As I Wait Beyond the Traverse

Chapter One: Wandering Through the Fog

Time had no meaning when the bodies of mercenaries fell as quickly as they trickled through a long, metal bridge on Omega. It was filthy. Not only was it smudged from years of accumulated dirt and grease, vibrant red rust was eating away at it. One could only wish that various slabs of metal and wire lying across it were merely left from those who passed and not segments supporting the bridge. At first there were the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and the Eclipse mercenary groups. Then there was the increasing amount of men and women equipped with questionable firearms and armor. The mercenaries were beginning to become desperate as key members perished in the carnage. They were forced to recruit all the help they could get. Even if it meant inviting untrained, but eager individuals in hopes of someday joining one of the mercenary groups.

A shot rang out and another body collapsed to the ground.

Hidden from his perch, the faint lights gleamed against the gloss of his angular dark blue and black alloy armor. On Omega, if the number of stars in the sky marked one's prosperity, the future would be bleak. While it was a land of opportunity to some, it was also a world without law. The sniper had already lost count of those he killed when he saw the hopeless mercenaries who took turns removing the piles of bodies on the bridge. If he were an artist the splatters from the red, blue, and green blood from those he killed would have been considered a masterpiece. How much death would it take for them to realize that it was a lost cause? How much longer could he hold out? Dazed, he glanced at the supply crate beside him. There was a sense of unease when he saw the last of his bottles of stims which lay empty beside it. Although there were enough medi-gels to take care of a dozen close calls, the amount of ammunition would likely last him until the end of the day. That is, if his recent dependence on the stims did not claim him first.

Initially, the killing had possessed him. Although his three-fingered gloved hands were numb, he continued to grip his sniper rifle while scoping the bridge for more mercenaries. Every so often, he would give his sniper rifle a strong squeeze because his hands would have been shaking uncontrollably from exhaustion had he not been holding it. Despite the rows of luxurious black couches the room had to offer, he had to resist. Though the mercenaries seemed countless, they were not. Had any managed to get close, they would treat him without mercy. He had to remind himself of his presence because fatigue was not an answer when death was waiting to get across.

Another shot. Another casualty.

The ring from each trigger became more bearable after each consecutive kill. It happened so frequently that it progressed from a slight headache to a drowned out burst followed by a soft thud of the body against the metal bridge. The chatter across the bridge began to emanate as he noticed the increased movement of the mercenaries across the bridge. He had to shoot at anything that moved because he knew that this perch would not last.

"It won't be long before I can see you again," he muttered while his helmeted head pressed against the wall from where he hid.

Although his place across the bridge was advantageous for him, he knew of its flaws. The mercenaries were only able to move across the bridge towards the room where he stood his ground. Despite the scattered and bloodied bodies from where he stood, he had a clear view of everything that came through. However, beneath him was a spacious room with three entrances. It was only a matter of time before the mercenaries were able to hack through those doors and storm up to slaughter him. Coincidentally, the area from which he sniped was not primarily chosen for its tactical vantage. It was chosen for its sentimental value as it was the last place he had spent time with his squad.

He readied his sniper rifle and took aim.

There was little comfort in the solitude of his small, dark room. Although unable to make use of the faint lights flickering outside, he leaned against the wall beside the window. His grey blue avian eyes danced as his attention was fixated on the orange glow of holovid the omni-tool on his arm emitted.

"Hey Garrus," the dark haired woman in the video smiled. At the sound of the name, his mouth slightly opened as the mandibles at the sides of his mouth flared baring a normally hidden row of sharp teeth. It had been years since anyone had called him that.

"I'd normally type a message to your omni-tool, but right now I'm flooded with reports," she continued, "I wanted to let you know that the Normandy will be docking at the Citadel in a few weeks. We received minor damage during our last encounter with geth resistance and I hope to have Normandy repaired there before we go at it again. While at the Citadel, the crew will be receiving three days of shore leave. If you're not too busy with your work at C-Sec, I think the crew would love to see you again. I thought it'd be nice if we could catch up as well. That is, after I submit my reports to Anderson and another attempt to persuade the council that…"

Upon hearing the soft chirps of his door being opened Garrus quickly turned off the holovid. A flood of light entered the room while a blue skinned woman stepped through the door and approached him. He stared at her as his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

"There you are," the asari sighed with relief, "the guys had a hunch you were alone in here."

From a distance, Garrus noticed several men gathered around a table in the bright room outside. They were playing what he assumed was variation of Skyllian Five poker.

"Hey, Archangel," one of the men shouted, "what will it take for us to drag your ass out here and join us? I'm tired of losing all my credits to this krogan bastard!"

As loud laughter from the group followed, the woman stepped deeper into the darkness of the room. Her black commando suit complimented her slender body while the patterned violet markings which framed her face and finger-like scalp crest made her inherently fierce. As she swaggered towards him, it left nothing to the imagination.

"Ripper, do you need something?" Garrus casually asked while glancing at his omni-tool.

Ripper stopped her advance and crossed her arms. She easily read through his attempt to conceal his annoyance of her intrusion.

"Archangel, I don't know what's going on with you," she frowned, "I know that its none of my business, but it worries me that you've been locking yourself up in this room this past week."

Garrus nodded at her with his eyes focused on a message on his omni-tool.

"I've only been with the squad for a few weeks so I wasn't aware of this, but the guys told me that this isn't the first time you've been this way. Apparently, you were acting the same way at around this time last year," Ripper said while attempting to read the vertical text display on his omni-tool.

Garrus closed the message once he noticed her closing the distance between them. There was a pang of worry as he attempted to narrow down who in his squad may recall such an event. However, the thought was quickly halted by the sound of her voice.

"Archangel," Ripper said with wide eyes filled with worry, "I just wanted you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to or someone to vent to, I'll be all ears."

"Thanks, but we have larger issues to worry about," Garrus reassured her as he reopened the message on his omni-tool.

After giving a slight smile, Ripper slowly began making her way to the door. As she reached the entrance Ripper turned to face him and let out a quiet sigh.

"They tell me that you're worrying about a bond mate. Perhaps a former bond mate? I don't know. It's only because Erash mentioned that he heard a woman's voice coming from your room last night," in attempt to avoid eye contact, Ripper stared at the floor as she continued, "I… I mean, we just want you to know that you don't need to do this alone."

"Just leave me be."

After her exit, Garrus gazed at the door for a moment in worry that another squad member would enter, but was promptly reassured when a muffled roar of laughter came from the door. Turning back to the holovid on his omni tool, Garrus felt hesitant as he held a talon-like finger poised to continue the woman's message. In frustration, Garrus sat on the small unkept bed near the window with his elbows on his knees, he ran his fingers from the ridge of cartilage above his eyes onto his forehead.

"Shepard…" Garrus whispered to himself.

The voices from across the bridge became louder.

While peering over his perch, Garrus reloaded his sniper rifle. As he caught a glimpse of a group of men and women frantically shouting at each other while adjusting their firearms he knew that the mercenaries were preparing another round of attack. Garrus could easily take on a small band of mercenaries who attempted to cross the bridge, but he understood that time was running short. Although his mind persisted, his body told him otherwise. Ultimately, it was the thought of Shepard which helped Garrus endure the waves of oncoming mercenaries. Her influence during his stay on the Normandy was what inspired Garrus to lead a squad of his own. Shepard also encouraged him to question his morals on justice, which helped him determine the foundation of guidelines that were enforced at every mission. That is to say, no civilians were to be killed regardless of the situation. However, his position with the mercenaries across the bridge was a constant reminder of his own failure to live up to the one whom he admired and respected.

He closed his eyes.

Night was eternal on Omega. As it was formerly an asteroid which was mined for element zero, implementing a day cycle was never a priority to those who visited or inhabited it. Through the years, people had created makeshift dwellings in the hollowed areas of the asteroid. Thereafter, the population on Omega slowly grew as did the crime. Despite being governed by a de-facto ruler, an asari named Aria T'Loak, Omega was a haven for the illicit. It was the perfect location for one to enact justice.

The squad had been waiting for two hours in a large refrigerated cargo hold of the J-65 docking area. Typically the location stored items for the illustrious Aquila nightclub on Omega, but there had been increasing reports about weapon smuggling originating from their storage area. Inside there were large shipping containers filled with various alcoholic beverages ranging from various types of Batarian beers which suited the pallets of most patrons to the Thucydian iced wines which needed an acquired taste. There were also smaller shipping containers which were organized into piles according to their sizes. Inside they were filled with a limited assortment of meat, vegetables, and fruits from nearby planets. Searching for the smuggled weapons, however, had been too easy. There were no attempts to hide them as they were found near the docking hold in metal military grade storage cases.

"Dammit, it's fucking cold," Grundan Krul complained as he retracted his green scaled crested head into the warmth of the hump on his back. "Why are we still here? Archangel, you sure the tip we got was reliable?"

"Scared already? I can see you shaking in your boots from here," quipped Garrus through his transmitter as he watched the angry krogan from the safety of the dock's catwalks. "The tip is reliable. Erash said it was triple encrypted on the Eclipse servers."

"But, it's been two hours since the expected meeting time. Something is obviously wrong," countered the krogran.

"I want us to wait longer. The weapons are still here, so it means that they're late."

"Or, they finished early."

"Eclipse is never early," interrupted Sidonis as he stepped beside Garrus while him a reassuring nod.

The group comprised of twelve members. In the beginning, Garrus worked on his own to eliminate various crime on Omega. Although he never shared his name, the civilians who he had helped in his fight for justice dubbed him the Archangel of Omega. After several missions, Garrus had been approached by various individuals who wanted to join him. Initially Garrus had been wary of having others join his crusade. However, in his years with the military, C-Sec, and the Normandy he was able to quickly decipher between those who were skilled in fighting and those who wanted to join for the sake of being associated with the Archangel of Omega. Garrus also respected his squad's privacy as members were never questioned nor forced to reveal their past. However, they all shared a common element, they were all associated with someone who was killed by a mercenary.

The first to accompany Garrus was the unlikely batarian and salarian duo, Erash and Mierin. Erash was a tech expert who had never failed in his attempts of hacking and decrypting, while Mierin was suspected to be a former salarian Special Tasks Group explosives expert. They were followed by two human men named Butler and Monteague. Through the way the two managed to stay calm throughout a fight, Garrus gathered that they may have previously been Alliance military soldiers. However, Monteague had two talents. He was capable and eager to shoot off the head of a mercenary as he was to prepare a meal for the squad after each mission. Then there was Grundan Krul. On the exterior, he may seem as if he were another stereotypical krogran hothead. However, the reason behind his decision to join the squad was because he was fed up with the ways the mercenaries exploited the asari and female human dancers in the nightclubs on Omega. Grundan Krul was also open about his interest in xenophillia, and often shared copies of his monthly subscription to Fornax with others in the squad when he was finished with them. The squad's repeated decline of his offer baffled him. However, the young turian sniper named Sidonis once accepted the offer when he first joined the group. He was promptly reminded of the childhood lesson of saying no to strangers. In the months after, the squad grew significantly in size. There was Sensat the former batarian slave trader, a human male named Weaver who shared no personal information with others apart from his hatred of mercenaries, Vortash the krogran demolition expert who preferred to use the bulk of his body to remove obstacles, Melanis a former turian C-Sec agent who specialized in security, and a young asari maiden named Ripper who was as talented in her biotic powers as she was with singing asari folk songs.

In the cargo hold, the squad was split into two groups. One group was designated to snipe oncoming mercenaries from the catwalks, while the second group were expected to clear out the remaining mercenaries from ground level.

"There is an old Earth story I read a few years ago. I forgot the name of it, but it was about two swordsmen who had planned a duel. One of them was said to have arrived three hours late. Whether it had been on purpose or not, the other swordsman lost the fight because he was too enraged to concentrate in the duel," Butler reminisced as he knelt down behind a large shipment container.

Vortash peered from the side of the container and responded, "You saying that we have one more hour to go before we lose our minds and get ourselves killed by mercenaries? Humans and their crazy stories… "

"Nah, just saying you could use a little more patience. It's not like we're going to freeze to death here and if we get hungry there's a lot of food and drinks here."

Vortash let out a loud groan which not only resonated through the squad's transmitters but also throughout the cargo area. He proceeded to walk towards a short shipping container next to Ripper and lifted the lid.

"Stop it!" Ripper scolded while she slapped his hand off the container. "Shut up and focus on the mission!"

While quickly retracting his hand from the lid, Vortash mumbled, "Yes mom," as he gave the asari a piercing glare. Before Ripper could return the favour, she was interrupted by some good news.

"I'm reading heat signatures coming from outside the door," reported Melanis as he made the final adjustments to his assault rifle.

As the squad quickly shuffled to their positions, Garrus set out an order through his transmitter for the two groups, "Get into your places and be ready. Remember only to fire on my signal, and leave Gus Williams to me."

Within moments, the door of the cargo hold opened. Entering was a human male wearing brown grease patterned coveralls who was being escorted by a dozen of fully armored Eclipse mercenaries.

"Hurry up," the human male said as he hastened his pace, "Just to let you know, I have more than one shipment to do today."

"Don't worry. We'll make it worth your time and credits. That is….if our shipment is fully accounted for," responded a salarian who briskly walked through the crowd of mercenaries. The black markings on the iconic yellow and sliver Eclipse armor he wore denoted the salarian's position in the mercenary groups. He was a high ranking Eclipse operative.

The human male couldn't help but glare at the ignorant mercenaries as they were unaware that his role in the agreement was merely to deliver the goods. The arrangements were made between the Eclipse leader, Jona Sederis, and his superiors. As the group approached the series of weapon storage cases, the human hunched over as he walked near them and proceeded to lift their lids. They were all filed to the rim with firearms.

"Here is the cargo you asked for," the man smirked, "top of the line shotguns, SMGs, and heavy pistols. Feel free to check them out."

As the mercenaries crowded around the opened storage cases, the human male proceeded to lift each firearm individually as he boldly announced to the group the model and strengths of each firearm.

"In the box to my right is the M-6 Carnifex heavy pistol. It's great against armor, but at the cost of high-recoil. I personally wouldn't want anything else at my side if there's a krogan charging at me," advertised the human as he held the pistol above his head for everyone to see. As he lowered his arm, an asari Eclipse member childishly grabbed the heavy pistol from the human male's hands and began to admire it while holding the firearm closely to her face.

"Next is the shotgun all the firearm magazines and catalogues have been raving about. It's the mighty M-300 Claymore," the human continued, "It offers superior short range damage compared to other models in the market. From what I've heard, it's strong enough to blow a person's face off, not that I'm trying to give you guys any ideas..."

As the mercenaries chuckled from the comments, the human male continued onto the next box, "Last but not least is the M-9 Tempest SMG. It boasts a firing rate of 925 RPM. That's 225 faster than the M-4 Shuriken. Also, with its high capacity magazine, it'll be great for shaving down those pesky shields and biotic barriers of whoever gets in your way. "

A majority of the Eclipse mercenaries in the group had been actively touching and running their fingers over the grooves and angles of their latest acquisitions. There was a group of mercenaries who seemed to be modeling with the new firearms, while the others stood and watched.

"Hey Ranula! Telrin! Stop gawking at the goods," the salarian operative harshly snapped, "make a quick count of the inventory so we can get the hell out of this freezer!"

While tightly gripping their datapads, a human and asari Eclipse mercenary began to sift their way through the firearms in the boxes as their comrades continued to vocally admire their latest procurements. They were unaware that the human male was closely observing their latest weapons ensuring that the two mercenaries would not miscount his valuable cargo.

As the mercenary group and the human male were firmly occupied, Garrus took the initiative and began to ready his sniper rifle as he searched for his target. Gazing through the scope, Garrus caught sight of the salarian operative's earthen red speckled skin and readied his finger on the trigger. With the flang of his voice slightly muffled by his helmet, his order resonated through the squad's transmitters, "In 3… 2…"

Prompted by the reverberating sound of Garrus' shot from the catwalks, Butler instinctively threw a flashbang grenade towards the mercenaries. Upon impact, the grenade enveloped the group in bright light and incapacitated them with an aggravating high pitched ring. As six loud shots echoed through the cargo hold within seconds, the human male panicked as he fell onto his elbows and knees in attempt to escape the blanket of light. The shock of the flashbang grenade and the rifle shots did not frighten him. Instead, it was the lack of screams from the bodies which simultaneously collapsed around him. Not only were the mercenaries strategically killed, their pursuers had aimed for their throats.

Emerging from the shipment containers which lined the room was the ground team. As the two imposing krogan members of the squad stood forth, Ripper's biotics flared in excitement as her body became surrounded by a thin layer of pale blue translucent smoke. The intensity of Ripper's biotics danced upon her skin as she created a biotic dome to protect Grundan Krul and Vortash as they charged towards the remaining mercenaries.

When the brightness faded, all that was left was the human male who was seen to be kneeling down on the floor. Miscounting the fallen mercenaries from the massacre, he shielded his face with his arm soiled from his desperate escape through the bloodied bodies.

Garrus propelled himself over the railing of the catwalks onto a series of shipping containers, creating loud repercussions as he made his way onto the ground. As he regained his composure, Garrus faced the man and calmly questioned, "Williams, who is your supplier?"

Standing from his crouch, Williams grimaced as he responded, "I presume that you are the infamous turian named Archangel?"

Garrus ignored him as he calmly walked towards Williams while glancing at the weapons which lay on the ground. The room had been silent in anticipation for the encounter, with only the static of Williams' stressful breathing enrapturing the storage hold.

As the sound from Garrus' boots became louder in his approach, Williams furrowed his eyebrows and questioned, "What is it to you? There's nothing to gain. By now, you should know this already. Rid Omega of one source, and another will gladly take its place."

"Tell me the name of your supplier and I will let you go," Garrus firmly demanded as he knelt down to pick up an M-6 Carnifex. As it lay on his three fingered hand, he gauged the weight of the heavy pistol.

With his back facing the enemy, Williams moved his head slightly to the side in attempt to evaluate his potential escape. Without fully turning around, the only things he could see were Garrus' armored bipedal feet slowly moving towards him. In fear, Williams discreetly reached for his SMG which was hidden in the front pocket of his coveralls.

"Stop wasting time, Williams," Garrus started as he removed the empty heat sink ammunition clip from the pistol and dropped it onto the ground. "Spit it out and I'll let you walk out… alive."

"Or what? You think I'm stupid?"

"I'll say it one more time," Garrus proposed as he reinserted a new heat sink letting the click resound in the room, "What do you value more? Your next pay cheque or your life?"

As Williams responded with nothing but a series of quickened breaths, further observation of the slight movements of William's arm persuaded Garrus to stop his advance. With caution, Garrus assumed a defensive position as he held his loaded pistol.

"Don't take me for a fool, Archangel," Williams snarled as he turned his body while pointing the SMG in Garrus' direction.

He pulled the trigger.

Disclaimer: All things Mass Effect belong to BioWare & EA.

A/N: This is my take on the Garrus and Shepard romance which occurs during Mass Effect 2.

Many thanks to my non-fanfiction reading + non-Mass Effect fan beta reader, J.V. I'd also like to thank E.M for encouraging me to go on a 'creative break'.

I apologize in advance if there is some messy grammar that I may have missed. Being quadrilingual has its side effects.

Reviews, criticisms, comments, and suggestions are greatly appreciated.

I'm also looking for a beta reader. Essentially someone to double check the grammar, ensure that my ideas are factual within the Mass Effect universe, and to watch over my ideas before they go off into the deep end. If you're up for the challenge, please PM me.