Authors Note:

Hey there, Brain.

Hey, Ray! What's going on?

Not much. Just another day in the life.

*Opens Chrome*

Oooh! What're we gonna do today? Browse Reddit? You know I love Reddit.

I know you do, Brain. But not right now.

*Opens Google Drive*

Uh, what are you doing, Ray?

Nothing at all. I just thought we'd look through some old files. You know, for old times sake.

*Opens "Fanfictions in progress" folder*

That...That doesn't look like just browsing through files. I don't...I don't think I like this, Ray.

Oh, it'll be fine, buddy. Don't worry.

*Opens Conversion chapter 9 file*

Ray...What are you doing, Ray? You can't trick me like this. I know what you're doing!

Oh come on, Brain. It'll be fun. We were pretty close. What do you say we finish this chapter, just for the fun of it?

Or! Or, we could browse YouTube. I think I saw a few notifications for some videos. Or what about Agents of SHIELD? Or Brooklyn Nine Nine!

Yeah, no. Let's do this, instead.

...I hate you.

So yes, that's been me as of late. Well, it's been more complicated than that. But you guys get it.

I want to throw out a huge thank you to my ever patient editor, yssssw. Honestly, I think after dealing with me on this chapter, you should be nominated for sainthood.

To my readers, thank you as well! I know it was a long road, but the road ahead is looking pretty good, and I've come back with a renewed desire to knock this story out of the park! So I hope you enjoy it, and lemme know your thoughts! Also, there's some quotes and references to a few movies and TV shows scattered throughout this chapter. See if you guys can locate all 5!

Garrus picked up a bag of dextro MREs and looked at the label. Vong fish spiced with ysalamiri root? No thanks. He frowned and continued to root around until he found a bag that would make a suitable breakfast. Ignoring the recommended heating instructions, he tore the bag open and carefully spilled half its contents onto a tray, then slid it into a reheater. The remaining half he returned to its original location to serve as another meal some other time.

As his food heated up he turned and leaned against the counter, letting his eyes rove over the members of the crew who sat and picked at their respective meals. His attention was diverted when he saw Shepard stroll - no, stalk - out of the elevator and head his way. He subtly watched as the spectre piled his own breakfast onto his tray, banging several spoonfuls of food onto his plate noisily. Behind him, Garrus heard the telltale beep of the reheater indicating his food was done.

While removing his food, he heard the human stomp over to a table near the medbay and drop his tray onto the table top. Garrus walked over to where his friend sat and carefully lowered both his tray and himself down opposite the human. Shepard, for his part, kept his attention on the meal before him, picking absentmindedly at its contents.

Garrus took a bite of his breakfast and chewed slowly. "Long night?"

"Hmm," was his only response.

"Wanna go down to the cargo bay? Maybe shoot at some empty bottles? I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself, if you want."

"Huh? No. Thanks Garrus."

Garrus moved his food aside and clasped his hands, growing immediately frustrated with his friends responses. Leaning forward, he pulled his mandibles in close to his face and drilled Shepard with an intense stare for several seconds. Shepard met it without blinking.

"Alright. What's on your mind?" Garrus asked. "I haven't seen you like this since, well, since Virmire."

The effect on Shepard was profound, if the sudden clenching of Shepard's jaw was any indication. Garrus' assumption was backed up a second later when his eye scanner detected a sudden, drastic spike in Shepard's heart rate. Damn I love technology.

"Jack's shuttle was destroyed. She's...gone," Shepard said after a moment, casting his eyes back down at his food.

Garrus rocked back in his chair and blinked several times. One of us. Just gone all of a sudden. It felt surreal. He didn't know her that well, but she had still been a squad mate. That sort of thing mattered, to Shepard and to him.

The silence lingered between the two for several seconds before he spoke up. "Spirits. They're trying to pick us off one by one. Cerberus?"

"Hackett's not sure yet. But they're looking into it. I just heard about it late last night. It was a...a rough day for everyone yesterday. I thought I'd let everyone enjoy their evening, at least. And Karin threatened to hit me with a tranq if I walked into the med bay again," Shepard said, waving his fork towards the opaque windows of the med bay.

"You could have told me last night, Shepard."

"I know but…" his friend began before trailing off. The human's eyes adopted a far off look as he swallowed several times. "Garrus, I'm the reason she got on that shuttle. I told her to come meet us. Because of my decision, Jack is gone now."

Garrus felt for Shepard. After all, he, too, knew what it was like to lose people under your command. For them to lose their lives because of decisions he had made. Garrus leaned forward, mustering as much strength as he could.

"Shepard, you can't blame yourself for this. Accidents happen, even to the best of us. You're proof of that. This is not your fault."

"I should have told her to stay on Earth," Shepard said under his breath.

"And if you had, she would have just been sitting around. A liability. And we both know the only time Jack didn't want to be a liability. She would have wanted to find these guys, with or without your help."

"You're right, Garrus," Shepard said with a sigh. "I just...it's never easy, knowing one of your friends is dead because of a decision you made."

"I know, Shepard. I know," Garrus said heavily. After a moment, he shook his head. "We need to stop being so reactive, and get out ahead of these guys."

Shepard paused for a second, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened again, they had that same familiar strength that Garrus was used to seeing. "I agree. I've already sent a message to everyone that's ever served with us. I want to rally as many of them to the Normandy as I can. At least that way they'll need to come to us, rather than picking us off one at a time."

"Might want to let them know to change course, then. I have a lead: Omega."

Shepard coughed a bit at the revelation. "Why Omega?"

Garrus leaned back in his chair and allowed a small smile to cross his face. There was always something that appealed to him about knowing things that others might not, and having control over the reveal. He referred to it as Vakarian's Rule #27.

He reached down to his side and removed the power unit he'd been carrying. Bringing it up to eye level, he spun it slowly in his hands. Once he was sure he had his friends attention, he continued.

"This is a power unit Tali and I managed to pull from the camera unit onboard the Tai Shan. Besides being larger than a camera that size needs, it's fairly normal. Unless you've got a scanner capable of 32x magnification and radiological scanning which, as it just so happens, I do," he said, tapping his eye scanner.

"Actually, Cerberus upgraded me with both of those when they brought me back to life," Shepard replied casually, taking a bite of his breakfast.

The admission caught Garrus off-guard, and he felt his mandibles droop a bit in disappointment. "Wait, really?"

"No," Shepard replied, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile for a second. "Please, continue."

"Oh for...Fine. There are initials and a trace radioactive signature present on the power unit. The radioactive compound is unique, and the only known match is Omega. Good news? I know who the initials belong to. A cocky little salarian arms manufacturer that I ran into a few times during my time as Archangel. Bad news? The salarian works for Aria."

"If that's the case, then I highly doubt she'll just hand him over."

"Exactly. But I doubt she'll be pleased about him selling tech to Cerberus. We may be able to use that to our advantage."

"Fair enough. Aria will be thrilled to see us, I'm sure," Shepard replied .

"Agreed. She's such a warm, welcoming spirit," Garrus responded sarcastically.

"Exactly. This is sure to put her in a bad mood," Shepard quipped. He paused for a moment. "Sounds like we're heading to Omega."

Garrus stood up and grabbed his breakfast. "I'll go let everyone know."

John watched Garrus walk towards the elevators.

"I was really hoping to avoid that this time."

In the silence of space, the SSV Normandy flared her thrusters, reorienting to her new heading. Against the kaleidoscope of colors behind her, she was all but invisible, the white and blue of her hull swallowed up by the oscillating color scheme the star Anadius presented.

If, however, one actually managed to catch a glimpse of the Normandy, their view didn't last long. In less time that it took to blink, the ship winked out of existence, her powerful FTL engines propelling her forward at speeds most beings couldn't comprehend, hurtling towards a destination unknown.

Just a hundred kilometers away, another ship drifted lazily. This one was much smaller, bore no logos or defining features, and was barely the size of a Kodiak shuttle, with a matte black hull that allowed it to melt into the darkness around it. Its pilot ran one hand through his short red hair and used the other to open an encrypted comm line, all without taking his eyes off the screen that indicated the Normandy's heading. On the other end, he heard two soft clicks, indicating that he'd established a connection to his superior in the Fangs.

"Booker. They're on the move, sir. Omega. I'll alert two and four. Yes, sir. We'll take him."

Aria sat on the couch in her quarters and closed her eyes, trying to draw some small ounce of pleasure in her situation. Unlike the lounge in Afterlife where she commonly held court, her private suite was her own little sanctuary. It was a place where she could go and drink in the view of Omega. It was a place she could finally relax and enjoy herself, though lately she'd spent more time in Afterlife, maintaining stricter control over Omega's rival mercenary factions. That made the time she spent by herself all the more precious. And currently, her precious time was being wasted.

She opened her eyes and shot a glare at the object of her vexation: a young teal asari currently kneeling between her thighs, trying everything she could to please the Queen of Omega. Unfortunately for Aria, the young maiden wasn't nearly as gifted at using her tongue as she was at speaking with it. By her own standards, Aria been patient enough to let her continue for this long. If she couldn't enjoy herself this way, she'd find some other way to entertain herself.

Aria reached out with one hand and gently stroked the head crest of the young maiden, prompting the younger woman to look up, her eyes meeting Aria's. In them, Aria could see a flicker of fear. But just behind the fear, there was a glimmer of something else. Hope, she thought to herself in disgust. Aria knew how to handle hope.

Aria smiled. It was a wide, warm, maternal smile that invited others to let their guard down and trust in her. It was a smile she had used many times. And every time, it made her inevitable betrayal hurt her target that much more. It worked. The younger asari's smile practically bloomed over her face, her eyes sparkling in joy. Joy that she had perhaps pleased the Queen of Omega.

She never saw Aria's hand until the moment before it impacted her cheek with a sharp crack. For Aria, the next few seconds seemed to slow to a crawl while she observed the flow of emotions that flew across the young asari's face. The transition from hope and joy, to the flinch just before impact, followed immediately by pain, and finally, fear and betrayal.

Aria placed a hand onto the maidens face and shoved her away in disgust. All she had wanted was to unwind, yet her frustration had only grown the longer this farce had gone on. Now she was tired, angry, and sexually frustrated.

"Grizz," she barked out curtly. Her turian bodyguard entered a moment later.

"Yeah, boss?" Aria noted the way he didn't even glance twice at his still-pantsless boss, though it had nothing to do with her modesty.

"Get this worthless sack of tits out of my sight. Send her down to Patriarch. I'm sure he'll have some fun with her."

"You got it," Grizz replied. He grabbed the young asari woman by the arm and forcefully began to drag her towards the door when he stopped and turned his head. "Since you're done, one more thing. The Normandy jumped in system a couple minutes ago. Shepard apparently wants an audience with you."

Aria sighed. "Fine. Fucking whatever. Bring him up."

Apparently tonight is just gonna be one disappointing experience after another.

John placed one hand on his shoulder and rotated his arm in a circle, trying to shift the way his armor sat on his shoulders. It wasn't easy, considering he and his squad were currently crammed in an elevator headed up to Aria's private suite.

Beside him, Liara meticulously poured over a datapad in her hands. Javik, to his right, seemed content to simply stare straight ahead, his ever-present scowl etched across his face. John couldn't help but notice the way the prothean shifted from foot to foot, a habit he had no doubt picked up from the races he was now surrounded by. Behind him, he could hear Garrus idly adjusting some of the settings on his assault rifle. While John generally preferred a three-man squad, this time the turian had insisted on coming along. Garrus thought his reputation as Archangel might help Aria give up their target.

"No offense Javik, but you're as nervous as a chihuahua," John said, breaking the silence and attracting the protheans attention.

"A what?" Javik asked, his scowl deepening.

"A...a chihuahua. Type of earth dog usually kept as a pet. Small, shakes a lot," John repeated uselessly, suddenly unsure of how to answer. "You know what? Never mind."

Javik grunted in response and folded his arms across his chest disapprovingly. Garrus' soft chuckle didn't help ease the sting of embarrassment that John felt.

"These 'dogs,' they are good companions?" Javik asked.

"Generally, yeah," John answered. "They've been kept as pets for centuries, and at times they've participated in wars. They're smart, brave, and loyal animals."

"I see. Perhaps I will talk to your Mr. Cortez about requisitioning one of these 'dogs' for my quarters," Javik replied.

John opened his mouth to respond, but shut it again right away, not willing to tackle the discussion about why Javik wanted a dog and why he couldn't have one. Fortunately, the elevator doors opened a minute later, revealing the always disapproving face of Grizz. The henchman flicked his head, indicating that the group follow him.

The quartet stepped off the elevator and into a well lit but sparsely populated hall that stretched on for nearly a dozen meters. The only defining feature was a single door two thirds of the way down which was guarded by another pair of Aria's bodyguards, one of whom was Bray. Approaching the guards, Grizz placed his hand onto a small scanner located next to the door, which opened a moment later.

"Aria will see you now," he said.

John and his group entered her private quarters unmolested, though Javik did attract additional scrutiny. Grizz followed the group in and as the door slid shut behind him, Shepard took in his surroundings. On the elevator ride up, he'd found himself wondering what Aria's private dwelling might look like, and he had to admit, it suited her perfectly.

To their immediate right was a door which, he assumed, led into the kitchen. He didn't get a chance to confirm, since a second later John found himself face to stomach with a large statue. He looked up and took in the stony gaze of a heavily scarred, very intimidating, and very well recreated face of Patriarch, the krogan warlord whom Aria had wrested control of Omega from.

He broke his gaze away from the stony visage and looked to the left side of the apartment, two thirds of which was dominated by a large bar. The mirrored backsplash with bottles stacked in front of it reminded him of the bar in his own apartment on the Citadel. Somehow, John highly doubted that Aria was the type to throw a party, so it was unlikely the bar had really been used as of late.

"Shepard. What in the living fuck do you want?" Aria called out.

He looked towards the sound, noting the massive window that stretched the entire length of the apartment. A large, comfortable looking sofa, just like the one in Afterlife, sat facing the window, an identical looking arm chair sitting to the right. He could just see Aria's head peeking out over the top of the couch. Aria, in her typical fashion, was going to make him come to her to talk.

"Nice to see you, too, Aria," he retorted, walking around the couch to stand in front of her.

"If I wanted to see you, I would have called. Did I call?" Aria paused for a moment and narrowed her eyes at the spectre. She stood up and brushed past him, moving to stand in front of the window. "What fresh new hell are you bringing to Omega this time, Shepard?"

He moved to stand beside her. As he took in the view, he replied. "Bringing? Nothing. I want to take something this time. Or rather, someone. One of your arms makers."

There was no doubt that Aria lived in one of the "nicer" parts of Omega, which wasn't saying much. But even here, on a remote space station in the middle of nowhere, the war had made a distinct impact. A number of buildings, including the one across from them, were in various states of collapse. The skies, normally crowded with the hectic dance of sky cars, now had a fraction of their usual traffic. Omega would be recovering from the war with the Reapers for a long time. Longer than the rest of the galaxy, probably.

"I'm not in the habit of handing things over, Shepard," Aria said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Who is it, and why would I give them to you?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could several thumps emanated from the entrance, as if someone had bumped into the wall. Shepard glanced at Aria, but she was no longer paying attention to him. She had turned around, watching Grizz as he approached the door. Something about the situation made the back of his neck itch, and John found himself tensing with each step that Grizz took towards the door.

His team had also picked up on the situation. While nobody had drawn a weapon, he noted that they had all spread out, each of them now loitering near cover.

Grizz approached the door, but jumped back when the door opened and the body of Bray, missing half his head, fell into the room. That was when he heard it. The clinking of a metal object skittering along the floor.

"GRE-" Grizz began to yell, but he was cut off by the explosive detonating at his feet. An instant later his only remains were distorted chunks of flesh flying throughout the room.

John's instincts took over immediately, as he dove behind the couch and pulled his Mattock, all in one smooth motion while Aria slid into cover next to him. A hand, missing a pair of fingers, landed between them. Aria's reaction to the appendage was immediate, as she bared her teeth and flared her biotics, launching an angry biotic attack at their assailants.

"Shit," John uttered under his breath, drawing his N7 Hurricane and handing it to Aria, who had ducked back into cover next to him.

He stood up and began to lay down suppressive fire while trying to get a look at the situation. He didn't get a great look at their ambushers, but from the glance he got at their armor, they looked human. Javik had taken cover behind the bar to his right. Meanwhile, to his left and closer to the door, Garrus was kneeling and laying down fire from his shelter, the statue of Patriarch now toppled over and serving as his cover. A biotic attack flew past his head from the left, indicating Liara's general direction. His critically low shields forced him to drop back into cover, and he saw Liara mimic his actions, hiding behind the small love seat slightly further back from him.

He opened up a communication frequency with the intention of coordinating his team but the sudden squeal of static stopped him short. Their attackers were jamming communications. He was really getting tired of being one step behind Cerberus.

"Everyone OK?" he called out to his team.

"Fine, Captain," came Javik's response.

"Took a few hits, but barriers held," Liara said from cover.

Garrus said nothing, which worried John. He slid over to the edge of the couch and peeked around, getting a line of sight on the turian.

"Garrus?" he called out, drawing his friends attention.

Garrus met his eyes, then glanced down at one of his legs, which had several large, twisted shards of debris sticking out of it. With those kinds of injuries, it would be extremely painful even sitting there. John couldn't imagine how excruciating it must be trying to adopt a kneeling firing stance. The new development added an additional layer of urgency to get to safety.

"Aria, how can we get out of here?" he asked.

"Through the front door. Unless you want to jump out the window," she replied, gesturing towards the panes of glass behind them.

John gritted his teeth in anger. First, they'd ambushed him at his own award ceremony. Then, they'd detonated a bomb in the hopes of killing him. After that had come the ambush at Cronos Station and Miranda's subsequent gunshot wounds. First Miranda, now Garrus. He couldn't keep leading those he cared about on to missions if they were always going to be seriously hurt.

The sudden jostle of Liara sliding into cover next to him snapped him out of his ruminations. He shoved his dark thoughts aside, and focused on an escape plan.

"How are we going to get out of here, Shepard?" Liara asked, giving voice to his thoughts.

"The front door is out," he responded. As if to accentuate that point, he stood up to lay suppressive fire. He dropped into cover again and eyed the window thoughtfully. "And we can't call for help. So that leaves one option."

"Oh no," he heard Liara mumble under her breath.

"Liara, what's the furthest you've ever thrown somebody?" he asked, drawing a concerned glance from the asari.

"Not that far," she answered, visually gauging the distance. "That's got to be almost two dozen meters. I can throw someone maybe half that."

He mulled over Liara's answer for several seconds. He was a decent biotic, sure, but he couldn't quite match her for raw biotic power. If they were gonna get someone across that gap, they'd need some kind of boost.

Inspiration struck when Aria reached out to his waist and plucked one of his three lift grenades from his belt.

"Aria, wait," he said while reaching a hand out to stop her from arming the grenade. "I think I know how to get us out of here."

"Yeah. By killing these assholes," she grumbled in response, but begrudgingly she returned the grenade to him.

"Not quite," he replied, pausing to fire off several shots. "Aria, trade spots with me. I need to get to Javik."

Aria shot him another glare but obliged, standing up to fire bursts from her Hurricane while John took her spot near the end of the couch.

He peered around the corner and caught the prothean's gaze, waving to the alien to indicate that he join them at the couch. It was going to be a little cramped, and he hoped that the enemy didn't use another grenade, otherwise they'd all be in trouble.

"What is it, Captain?" Javik asked once they were shoulder to shoulder with one another.

John said nothing, and instead opened fire on the window, which collapsed after a handful of shots. It was then that he handed Javik one of his lift grenades. The aliens four-eyes darted between him and the grenade, trying to piece together his plan. It was one of those plans so crazy, people would dismiss it immediately. But it was their only hope right now.

"Run towards the window. Just as you get to it, Liara will throw you as far as she can. Right after she does, activate the lift grenade, and I'll throw you the rest of the way," he explained quickly. "Once you're there, we'll throw the next person, and you pull them towards you."

Javik said nothing, merely staring at John much like he had when they'd awoken the prothean back on Eden Prime all those months ago. Javik was looking at him like he was insane. Strange. Foreign. Untrustworthy. Liara, next to him, took a turn keeping their attackers at bay. But even she didn't speak up, and that itself said all it needed to. John sighed in frustration.

"You don't like this plan? Fine. I can live with that. But right now there's two ways out of here. As a corpse, or out that window. You choose the former, then we're all dead. Or, you can trust me, and help us all get out of here alive. Your choice, Javik. But you survived two wars with the Reapers, so I highly doubt you want to die here," he said.

His point made, he stood up and fired a burst at the door. When he ducked back into cover, Javik finally spoke.

"I will trust this plan, as crazy as it is. Naturally a primitive would come up with it," Javik replied, anger present in his voice. He leaned in close to John when next he spoke. "But after this, we will have words."

"Fine. For now, help the primitives around you," John said. He didn't mean to take his aggression out on the prothean, but right now, Javik was the one thing keeping him from getting his squad, his family, to safety.

Without a second look, Javik took off towards the collapsed window. He reached the precipice, went to take another step, and suddenly took off flying as he was propelled by Liara's throw. The second after Liara's biotic ability had impacted with Javik, John tapped into his own biotics, summoning another throw to compliment Liara's. He felt the electrical energy dance under his skin, the sensation not unpleasant. The muscles along his spine tightened as the energy gathered there before surging out, along his arm and into his palm. Concentrating on the mnemonic actions necessary, he focused on his target, and thrust his arm out, sending the ball of energy towards Javik.

It was a tricky thing they were trying to do, land someone on top of a partially collapsed building. Assuming he actually landed on it, and wasn't under or overthrown, there was also the chance that the roof could collapse under his feet. Or he could hit it and roll right off the edge. Then there was the fact that either his or Liara's throws could impact too hard against him, breaking bone and rendering him unable to help.

Amazingly enough, Javik landed safely, rolling just a few couple times before coming to a complete stop. John had to stop himself from jumping for joy when the prothean stood up, seemingly unharmed. Javik wasted no time in waving across to his companions, signaling that he was ready.

John turned to Liara, her eyes narrowed just slightly, like they always did when she was studying a problem. He knew there was a crucial flaw in his plan, and odds were that if Liara was giving him that look, she knew it, too.

"Aria. You're next," he said, not giving Liara a chance to voice her thoughts. With a victorious smirk, Aria stuck out a hand, expecting him to hand over one of his two remaining lift grenades, but John merely shook his head. "You'll be fine. Between the three of us, you won't need a grenade."

Aria let out a snort of derision and dropped her hand, immediately making John wish he'd elected to send Garrus next. But he wanted to remain on the asari's good side, if only because she was a useful resource, and he knew there was a good chance he'd need her help again soon.

Together, he and Liara sent Aria flying across the gap into range of Javik's pull, where the prothean brought her to safety. John, though, had other concerns, if the increase in enemy fire was any indication. After they sent Garrus across, he'd have to hope for a long enough lull in fire to throw Liara across the gap.

"Garrus!" John called out as he stood and fired off a short burst from his Mattock. Garrus, meeting his eyes, shook his head, one hand gripping his injured thigh tightly. John had no chance to say anything else, his shield indicator flashing at him insistently and forcing him back into cover.

He maneuvered to the edge of the couch and poked his head around the corner, again meeting Garrus' gaze, but the turian shook his head forcefully. Ignoring his friends silent plea, John launched himself around his cover and towards Garrus, crouch-running to his friends side. While he had only been exposed for a couple seconds, his shields were again at critical levels.

He wasn't sure why their attackers hadn't made a push into Aria's suite yet, but it seemed like they were content to sit back and wait until John and his team ran out of ammo. He just needed them to hold off for another minute or two, so he could get Garrus and Liara out safely.

"Send Liara next," Garrus said, his voice strained. "I'll cover you two while you get her out."

"Shut up, Garrus. Just shut up," he bit out.

He grabbed his friend by the collar of his armor with one hand while activating his tech armor with the other. Standing up, he concentrated on getting he and his turian friend across the short gap to where Liara was currently laying down suppressive fire. Despite her efforts and his added protection, his shields collapsed under the strain, and he felt a trio of rounds impact against his armor. With one last effort, he covered the last meter and swung Garrus into cover, then collapsed next to him. He grunted in pain when a sharp pain made itself known somewhere near one of his lower right ribs. He reached around and probed the wound, his fingers coming back coated slick with his own blood.

"You OK, Garrus?" he asked, keeping his mind off his own injuries.

"Mostly, yeah. You managed to attract their bullets with your face," Garrus admitted with a groan.

"Good. Because you're up-"

"No!" Garrus interrupted with more strength than John expected. John was further surprised when Garrus managed to twist around into a kneeling firing stance, emptying a clip at the door. His clip empty, he reloaded and continued to fire as he spoke. "Liara next. We might need the Shadow Broker's network. You know I'm right."

"Fine," he said curtly. Turning to Liara, he placed a lift grenade in her hands and squeezed gently. "Ready for this?"

"Honestly? No. But with you, I've learned to just go with it," she replied, giving him a brave smile. Staying crouched, she moved to the edge of the window, then turned back to face him.

Without another word, he channeled his biotics and propelled her across the gap to safety, then turned around to help his friend lay suppressive fire. John could feel himself tiring. Using so many biotic abilities so quickly, and with such intensity, was wearing on him. Fortunately, he had one last lift grenade, and it would be this grenade that helped him get his turian friend out of danger.

They took turns firing at their assailants. One would pop up and fire several rounds, allowing the other to reload and recharge their shields, then they would duck into cover. But ammo was running dangerously low, and it was time for Garrus to go. Then there was also the fact that their attackers were getting more bold, staying out to return fire for longer periods of time. There was one benefit to their situation, though, and that was that he could get longer looks at their ambushers. John was able to confirm that they were human, and probably using military grade hardware. That meant they were either Cerberus, or well funded mercenaries. Either way, it was bad news.

John slipped back into cover and reloaded his Mattock. Two thermal clips left. He gripped the lift grenade in one hand, his rifle in the other. Giving himself a count of three, he slapped the grenade onto the armor at Garrus' lower back, where it magnetically attached, unlikely to be discovered until it was too late.

Garrus, thinking the touch signalled that John was about to take over firing duties, took cover again, and slammed his back against the couch, no doubt partly in frustration.

"My turn to go?" Garrus asked, anger clearly present in his voice.

"Yeah," John replied curtly.

"You know I won't go willingly," the turian stated. "I'm not about to abandon you, Shepard."

"I could order you to leave," he quipped, the comment drawing out a short laugh from the turian.

Garrus, grunting in pain, stood up to provide covering fire, giving John a chance to reload. One thermal clip left.

"Good thing I don't report to you then, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Garrus," John said, standing up next to his friend, preparing to activate the grenade and throw him to safety.

Garrus fired a trip mine at the door, then turned to face the human. He clapped one taloned hand on the spectre's shoulder with more force than was necessary, but John didn't mind. It might be the last few moments they spent together.

"Me too, Shepard. I'll give 'em hell."

"Wha-?" John began, unsure of what his friend meant.

Garrus used the hand on the spectre's shoulder to push him towards the window. Caught off guard, John stumbled a few steps before righting himself, but by then it was too late. The lift grenade he'd attached to Garrus was now secured to John, and exploded a moment later. Weightlessness immediately overcame Shepard, and he flailed his arms uselessly, his movements conveying his shock and surprise.

"Garrus!" John called to his friend. The turian limped across the short distance between them hurriedly, thrusting his beloved Black Widow sniper rifle into John's hands. Even in a weightless state, the weight of the sniper rifle felt tremendous in his hands.

"Take care of her for me," Garrus said quietly, leveling his Phaeston at the human. "It was an honor, Commander."

John's eyes went wide, Garrus' plan falling into place in his mind. Garrus fired a concussive shot, and the next moment it felt like a krogan slammed directly into his chest, sending him flying through the window and out of the apartment. John had a momentary glimpse of his friend saluting him as he flew backwards and out of control. After what seemed like an eternity, John felt a strong, invisible hand grip him, though this time it was a pulling motion rather than the feeling of being pushed.

His momentum carried him across the street to join Aria and the rest of his squad. Landing on his feet, but backwards, he stumbled again, his inner ear completely unsure what was happening. He slammed into something solid, which let out a small cry, proving to be Liara. Together, the two tumbled to the ground, where John found himself wanting to stay there. The idea that Garrus had just sacrificed himself for John hurt him deeply, and he wasn't sure if he was willing to get up and face that truth quite yet.

The sounds of gunfire pierced the veil of his self doubt, however, and dragged him back to reality. He had to find a way to help Garrus. He steeled himself mentally - an act that he was getting very tired of - and got off of Liara, pausing a moment to offer her a helping hand. Instead of a hand, she thrust Garrus' sniper rifle into his hands. That was it! He could provide Garrus with covering fire!

"Clips!" he barked out to his allies. "Give me all the thermal clips you have!"

He looked around at those that had made it across, none of whom made a move to give him their ammo. Finally, his eyes landed on Liara, her hands dangling awkwardly at her side, a sympathetic expression on her face.

"And then what, Shepard?" she asked.

"Then I give Garrus covering fire! Help him to get over here," he explained, the desperation evident in his voice.

"Fuck that. We should get out of here," Aria spat under her breath as she turned on her heel.

John glared at her for a moment before returning his gaze to Liara.

"How, Shepard?" Liara asked softly. John immediately hated her tone, and where the conversation was going. "Javik can't reach that far out with pull. We'd need someone on the other side to help get him over here.

"I don't...I don't know. But we can't leave him over there!"

"The turian gave his life to save yours, Captain. In my cycle, we would honor that sacrifice by continuing to live. Then finding our foe and striking back when we are stronger," Javik said.

John looked around at those around him, but nobody seemed willing to help. With no other options left to him, he hoisted the sniper rifle and peered through the scope.

Garrus was firing blind. At least two of their assailants had made it into Aria's apartment, and were doing a good job keeping him pinned down with a steady stream of fire. It had gotten so bad, that he'd taken to blindly sticking his assault rifle out from cover to take pot shots at his enemy. It was a delaying tactic. He knew he'd be dead soon.

His Phaeston clicked empty, forcing Garrus to slap in his last thermal clip.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath.

Well, this was how it was going to end. He had only one regret, and that was not saying good-bye to Tali before he'd left.

OK. That, and not bringing more ammo, he thought to himself grimly.

At least he would die knowing that he'd saved Shepard's life. Garrus had taken what he thought was the best course of action. In his current state, he'd only slow his allies down. This way, he could at least buy his squad mates - no, friends - some time to escape. He may die today, but at least he'd die knowing that Shepard would tear every planet in the system apart to avenge his death. That at least brought Garrus some small measure of peace.

Garrus sensed a lull in the shots currently flying over his cover. If there was ever a chance to get a reading of his situation, this was it.

Garrus stood up, only to find himself flying backwards, feeling like a shuttle had hit him in the chest. He slammed into one of the seats nearby, knocking the air out of his lungs, before tumbling over the back of the chair. He faced the floor for a moment and gasped for breath, which proved to be a monumental effort, as his injured leg screaming in agony. He had to buy his friends more time. He was a turian. Turians didn't give up.

Shaking his head to clear his thought, he stood up shakily and located his nearest foe: an armored humanoid now coming his way as four others flooded in through the door. Garrus noted the lack of markings on the troopers armor, but shoved that information to the back of his brain.

Garrus took a couple agonizingly slow steps towards his intended target and lanced out a short jab with his left arm that was easily dodged. He never got a chance for a second punch. His head exploded in pain and his vision darkened as he collapsed to his knees. Garrus groaned, but the sound seemed far off. His eyes, acting of their own accord, looked up at the two enemies now standing in front of him.

"You three, check the rest of the apartment." Garrus heard one of the troopers say.

He heard three pairs of footsteps walk off into other areas of the apartment, leaving just Garrus and two others in the sitting room.

"Orders, sir?" one of the remaining troopers said.

There was a momentary pause before the trooper drew a pistol from his belt. Garrus blinked a few times trying to clear his vision while the assassin was still occupied with his orders. The pistol was now hanging loosely at the troopers side. It was risky. Hell, it was suicidal. But if he was quick, and very, very lucky, he might be able to take one or two of them by surprise.

Turians never give up.

Shifting his weight slightly, Garrus pushed off with his good leg, charging as best he could while he let out a yell. He tackled the nearest trooper, taking them both to the ground. They wrestled on the ground for a second as the trooper tried to get his gun leveled at Garrus. Garrus, meanwhile, wrapped one hand around the troopers gun arm, doing what he could to keep the weapon, and worked to land blow after blow on the troopers head and body as best he could.

His plan came to a sudden stop when a sharp, overwhelming pain erupted from somewhere in his skull, drowning out all thoughts he had about turning the tables on his attackers. That fact was reinforced when he felt himself being gruffly lifted up, flipped over, and slammed onto his back, knocking the wind out of him again for the second time in as many minutes.

He lay there for less than a second, dazed and confused, struggling to get his bearings when the sound of a gunshot pierced his thoughts just as cleanly as the bullet pierced the floor next to his head. Garrus' eyes went wide involuntarily, locking onto the smoking muzzle mere feet from his face. There was no way the gunman had missed at that range.

"Don't you fucking move, Vakarian. I have permission to shoot you if I see fit."

Turians never give up.

He never had a chance. He saw the boot coming his way half a moment before the impact, and suddenly the world was dark.

"GARRUS!" John cried out.

He'd seen the whole thing. The concussive shot that had knocked him out of cover. The second trooper slamming the butt of his assault rifle into Garrus' skull. The way the turian had collapsed to his knees after the blow. Then when Garrus had fought back. The body slam. And he'd seen how they'd shot him point blank as he lay on the ground. And finally, the way the trooper had kicked his corpse.

Now Garrus was…

It couldn't be possible.

John's grip on the sniper rifle tightened.

Honor his sacrifice, Shepard.

John stood up and faced the three survivors, a mix of rage and determination on his face. Tears burned in his eyes, but his voice was strong.

"Aria, link up with more of your bodyguards, and get somewhere safe. You might not be a member of my crew, but that doesn't mean Cerberus won't come after you. Everyone else, back to the ship."

The trip back to the Normandy had been uneventful. Originally, he'd mulled over the thought of catching up to their assailants and exacting revenge. But his squad had neither the will to fight nor the ammo to.

Then there was the issue of the arms manufacturer that had brought them to Omega in the first place. Whether that was a carefully placed clue meant to lure them here and trap them, or if there actually was a weapons maker, John didn't know and no longer cared. Miranda was still in the med bay, and now Garrus was gone, and yet they were still no closer to tracking down the Fangs and putting an end to them.

John stalked past the crew stations on the way to the CIC before brushing past Traynor, his expression making it clear he did not want to talk right now. Fortunately, the younger woman picked up on the dour mood radiating from him and the rest of the squad, and chose not to speak up.

John approached the elevator and reached out a hand to palm the call button, but stopped midway when the elevator doors opened suddenly, revealing a face he'd been dreading on seeing. Or rather, a faceplate. He tried to speak, but her name caught in his throat. He felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach.

For her part, Tali didn't say anything, her gaze immediately fixed on the sniper rifle John still had a firm grip on. Wordlessly, she reached out an empty hand, and John, understanding her unspoken request, placed Garrus' beloved weapon into her arms solemnly. She hugged it tightly to her chest, and behind her tinted faceplate John heard a slight whimper.

"Tali," he said, finally finding his voice. She looked up at him with a slight shimmer around her eyes that John immediately recognized as tears. He tried to speak, but again found that his voice was unable to cooperate.

Tali took a step back into the elevator, and John heard one last whimper come from the quarian before the doors slid shut in his face. He stood there for several seconds, suddenly aware of the silence that had engulfed the CIC.