chapter 9

really grateful to Shepard for the geth data. . . help the Flotilla. . take back our home world. . . ."

Garrus Vakarian sighed as he watched Tali chatter animatedly with a bemused looking Liara.

Spirits, how much had he missed this!

There was a human saying about not knowing what you had until you lost it. Garrus felt he could relate to this better than anyone. He'd experienced it exactly thrice in his life in the previous timeline: first when he'd lost Shepard, second when he'd lost his mother. . .

. . . and the third time when he'd lost Tali.

He gazed wistfully at Tali. Out of all the friends he'd made on the Normandy, Tali had definitely been his favorite (with the exception of Shepard herself). Intelligent, quick-witted, armed with a razor-sharp tongue and her beloved shotgun, she reminded him so much of his own younger sister that he had to catch himself before calling her 'Solana' sometimes. There had been a time when he had thought of her as just another naïve little quarian, unworthy of much attention like the rest of her species. He still remembered some of the things he'd said to her back then.

"It is natural for people to dislike rootless wanderers. If the quarians would just settle on another home world, you would not run into such concerns."

"The quarians endangered the entire galaxy when they let the geth break free. I hope your people are properly contrite, Tali."

Spirits, he had been such an asshole! Joker hadn't exaggerated at all about the stick up his ass. There had been times when he'd wished he could go back in time and beat his younger self to death with it!

Thank the Spirits I retained my memories and experiences when I came back, otherwise I'd have actually done it!

Fortunately, all that had soon changed to a protective older-brother feeling. He'd even promised himself, watching her break down over her father's corpse back on the Alarei, that he would look after her as if she was his own blood; that he wouldn't let her down like her own people had.

But I broke that promise. I let her down, just like everyone else did.

He still remembered that fateful day on Rannoch when Shepard condemned the entire quarian fleet to death at the hands of the geth. He remembered how she had begged Legion to stop the upload, had practically fallen on her knees and pleaded with Shepard and him to call off the attack and spare her people. He remembered doing nothing to stop Shepard, even turning his back on Tali in a cold dismissal of her grief.

Ruthless calculus. Sacrifices had to be made in war. He'd repeated those words to himself over and over again, trying to drown out the dying screams of 17 million quarians, trying to drown out Tali's scream of anguish and despair as all her hopes and dreams burned around her.

He'd turned his head just in time to see Tali standing at the edge of a cliff, her mask dropping to her side. He saw her beautiful face for the first time in her life, contorted in unfathomable grief, saw her spread her hands and fall backwards, saw Shepard rush to the edge and make a futile attempt at grabbing her hand, saw her disappear, going to join her people in death. . . .

"Garrus? Garrus. . . Garrus!"

He started, blinking rapidly to clear his mind of the nightmare he had gotten lost in. He focused his eyes to see both Liara and Tali looking at him in concern.

"Are you all right, Garrus?" Liara asked. "You seemed kind of tense there, for a moment."

"I'm fine," Garrus said. He realized he had unconsciously been digging his talons into the surface of the mess table. "Just thinking, that's all. . . ."

"Anything in particular?" she enquired. It was obvious from her tone that she wanted to talk about something, anything, to keep her mind off of Noveria. Garrus actually approved. It was better than her locking herself up in her room, anyway.

"I was thinking about the quarians, and their problems with the geth," he replied.

"What about the quarians?" there was a note of defensiveness in Tali's voice.

He held up his hands in a placating manner. "I was just thinking how different things would've turned out if the Council had chosen to react differently during the Geth War."

"What do you mean?" Liara asked curiously.

Well, here goes nothing.

"Back when the geth overran the quarian colonies and Rannoch, the survivors requested the Citadel Council for aid in reclaiming their homes. But instead of helping them, the Council voided their membership and stripped them of their embassy, as punishment for breaking the laws regarding creation of AIs. They even went one step further and denied the quarians permission to colonize other worlds, effectively forcing them to live aboard their ships."

"They were so hung up on the idea of making an example out of the quarians that they completely ignored the, what's that saying the humans have. . . the elephant in the room. Instead of looking for a way to deal with the geth, the Council allowed them to run unchecked throughout the Perseus Veil, until their numbers became too high for any effective action to be taken."

"Now, just imagine for a moment, how different things would've turned out if the Council had chosen to act instead of simply wasting their time with their ineffectual politics?"

"I hear ya," said Ashley, who was sitting nearby listening intently. "If the Council had actually done something, the quarians would probably still have their homes and the geth would never have left the Veil." She clenched her fist tightly. "And Eden Prime would never have happened."

"My point, exactly," Garrus was pleased to note that a lot more people were listening in. "This is a mistake the Council has made over and over again. Each time they had an opportunity to take care of a problem, they kept putting it off, until the problem became too huge for anyone to solve without paying a steep price. The Council's reluctance to act when they had the means and opportunity to do so has led to unintended consequences, some of which have threatened the very fate of the galaxy. They made the same mistake with the Rachni, they made the same mistake with the Krogan, they made the same mistake with the Geth and frankly. . . I think they're making the same mistake with Saren."

"Are you calling my people a mistake, turian?" Wrex growled, his voice silencing everyone in the mess.

Garrus steeled himself. This wasn't going to be easy.

But I have to say it.

"No, Wrex. I'm saying the way the Council dealt with the Krogan Rebellions was a mistake. The genophage may have been the right strategy to use back then, I wasn't there so I can't honestly judge. But allowing the genophage to continue a whole millennium after the war is just asking for a whole new kind of trouble. The Council won that war; they should either have pushed to completely eradicate the krogan, or they should've started working to rehabilitate them: given them a cure and helped them find a different way of life. But leaving the krogan hanging in the middle, leaving them to watch their entire race die a slow death. . . can anyone honestly blame the krogan for being as bitter as they are?"

A silence fell over the group as everyone contemplated Garrus' words. Wrex however simply stared at him in shock, as though he couldn't honestly believe that a turian was defending his people.

It was Alenko who finally spoke. "You've got a good point there, Garrus. But frankly, I'm not sure if there's anything that can be done about it. Humanity is still too new to the galactic scene to hope to cause any significant changes over the next few centuries. Besides, if that's how the Council has worked over the last few millennia, I'm not sure if there'll ever be any real change on the galactic front, at least not in our lifetimes."

Garrus merely shook his head. "Honestly, lieutenant. I think change in galactic politics has been long since overdue." He got to his feet, slowly looking over the entire room. "Mark my words, someday this galaxy will end up facing a threat far worse than anything it has ever seen. Worse than the Rachni, worse than the Krogan, worse than the Geth. . . . and we'd all better be ready to face it together, or we'll go down in flames together."

He turned and walked out of the mess hall, leaving a stunned silence in the wake of his extraordinary pronouncement.

He smiled softly to himself.

The seeds have been planted. Now let's see what kind of fruit it yields.

Jahleed was having a real bad day.

He'd spent most of the morning at the C-Sec Academy, trying to convince someone to 'take care' of Chorban for him. He remembered being approached by a young turian C-Sec officer who informed him that he had been assigned to investigate his claims. The officer had then proceeded to question him thoroughly about Chorban and their relationship and then walked him out of the academy, assuring him that everything would be handled to his satisfaction.

Next thing he knew, he was waking up in an abandoned warehouse, handcuffed to a chair. In front of him, in a similar predicament and looking just as confused as he felt, was none other than the salarian, Chorban!

He had absolutely no idea how he'd gotten there! Dimly, he recalled feeling a strange sensation in his pressure-suit, as if someone had injected him with something. But before he could proceed along this train of thought, the door slid open and their captor walked in. Jahleed could make out an assault rifle in his hands, the dim glow of his visor reflecting off it.

It's him! That turian C-Sec officer who offered to help!

"Please!" Chorban screamed, trying to free himself desperately. "Don't kill me! I want to live! I want to live!"

"If I wanted to kill you, you both would already be dead by now. Now stop screaming." He casually took a seat, rifle hanging at his side.

"Wh-Wh-What do you want?" Jahleed asked fearfully.

The turian merely regarded him for a moment. "I know you two are secretly scanning the keepers on the Citadel for some sort of project."

"We'll stop!" Chorban cried. "You can have the scanner! You can have the research! Please, just let me go!"

"If you'll shut up for a moment, perhaps I can finish?" the turian asked quietly. Chorban fell silent. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I know you two are secretly researching the keepers."

"Now, I don't know what problems you two have with each other, and frankly, I don't care. What I do care about is the project you two are working on."

"So, here's what's going to happen. You guys are going to find a way to work together, you will find someone to help you scan all the keepers to get your data, you will finish your research. . . and finally, you will share your results with me, and me alone."

Jahleed merely stared at the turian incredulously. "You want us to research the keepers?"

"Are you hard of hearing or something? I believe that is what I just said. I want you to work on this project together, and send me your findings. Rest assured you both will be compensated for your efforts; and if I like what you send me, I will be most generous."

For a long time, Jahleed and Chorban stared at each other, contemplating their options. As one, they nodded.

"It's a deal!" Jahleed said, trying to inject some confidence into his voice.

"Can we go home, now?" Chorban asked timidly.

"By all means," the turian got up from his chair, idly collapsing the rifle. "But I would strongly advise you to not repeat this conversation to anyone else, nor to share your findings with anyone. Otherwise the consequences will be most. . . unpleasant." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Jahleed cried, stopping him in his tracks. "Who-who are you?"

The turian didn't even turn around. "My name is Archangel, and that's all you need to know. Goodbye, gentlemen."

Garrus exhaled a tired breath as he gazed out towards the Presidium Lake.

Truth be told, he was glad that Shepard had chosen to give them shore leave on the Citadel. He knew it was meant to be mostly for Liara's benefit, and possibly even for her own, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

He knew what was going to happen next. The next mission was one he dreaded almost as much as Virmire. But it had less to do with what they'd be facing, and more to do with the possible consequences of his actions, or rather his choices.

Balak was going to die.

In his mind, the outcome was already decided. It did not matter whether the hostages that he would eventually take on Asteroid X57 lived or died, Balak was not going to get off that hunk of rock alive. Garrus was going to make sure of that.

He sighed. He knew that by killing Balak, he was condemning an entire race to death at the Reapers' hands.

When the Reapers would finally attack the galaxy, the batarian Hegemony would be completely decimated. With Balak dead, the remaining batarians would have no leaders to turn to in their time of need. Their fleets would be decimated, their colonies would burn. . . .

. . . . and if Garrus played his cards right, he could get the Reapers to focus exclusively on the batarians for a while, buying the rest of them precious time.

He was under no illusions of what he was doing. This was genocide, pure and simple. He was condemning the batarians to extinction. But it's not like he had the luxury of choice. When the Reapers arrived in full force, everything would boil down to numbers and statistics. Ruthless calculus.

No! Don't think about it! This same "Ruthless calculus" crap cost you everything in the last war!

He knew why he was sacrificing the batarians. The answer was simple – he hated them. He hated that they were responsible for turning the Terminus systems into a criminal hub, he hated that they were responsible for most of the slaver gangs and drug rings in the galaxy, he hated that they were responsible for so many tragedies like Mindoir and so many battles like the Skyllian Blitz. . .

Was it so wrong that a government that encouraged its citizens to enslave others, to treat them like property be the one to face the wrath of the Reapers? Wouldn't the galaxy be better off without the batarian race as a whole? If Earth, Palaven, Thessia, Sur'Kesh and Rannoch could be saved at the expense of Khar'shan, shouldn't he take that chance?

But is that truly my decision to make?

For the first time, Garrus fully appreciated the magnitude of the burden Shepard had carried in the previous timeline. It was one thing to order your troops to their deaths defending civilians from the Reapers, it was another thing entirely to decide the fate of an entire species; and Shepard had been forced to do this more than once, all by herself!

Spirits, that woman. . . .

He sighed again. This wasn't the first hard decision he'd have to make, and it certainly wouldn't be his last. No use driving himself crazy trying to justify everything at once.

He had always trusted Shepard's judgement. He would do so again. When the time was right he would confess everything to her, and accept whatever punishment she'd give.

But until that day came, this burden would be his to bear. Alone.