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These Are Our Stars
LOG III: IT HAD TO BE YOU

LOG III: IT HAD TO BE YOU

"IT'S SO MUCH EASIER TO SEE THE WORLD IN BLACK AND WHITE. GRAY? I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH GRAY..."

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LOG III: IT HAD TO BE YOU.

The SSV Normandy SR-2: Captain’s Quarters

“Garrus, it’s me.”

The Gordian knot that was twisting itself throughout the turian’s heart tensed as the door opened again, this time for Joker, and by his lonesome. Taking his hat off as he came in, he scrutinized Garrus.

“I came as soon as I could, what’s wrong?”

Garrus didn’t reply, instead grabbing two glasses and two more bottles of alcohol. Joker followed his lead and sat down on the couch across from Garrus as he poured them both a drink, slid Joker his, and threw back his own.

“You aiming to be an alcoholic when the Commander comes back?”

“Jeff, I’m terrified.”

Joker paused, then took his glass between his hands and leaned forward on his knees. “Of what?”

He searched deep in his cup for the answer to reveal itself, but to no avail. Mandibles shuffling, Garrus took a deep breath, trying and failing to hide his crumbling composure in front of his friend.

“That I’m not.. I’m not…” a frustrated grunt squeezed out, “Jeff, those fuckers watched her for years, then brought her back from the dead, and now we’re going to try and do it again? What gives me the right? What gives me the right, Jeff?” he looked up, his distress plain.

Hands balled tightly to his sides, Joker got up and stepped around the coffee table and, painstakingly, knelt beside the turian. He grasped Garrus’ shoulder firmly, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“You’ve always been worthy: now, and then. Don’t you dare try to say the Commander was wrong about you two,” he said vehemently, jaw trembling, “not now. Now when she needs us the most. She’d do anything for you, and I know damn well you’d do anything for her. Now is our only chance.”

“I just need to make sure we’re doing this for the right reasons,” Garrus rasped, “no chasing ghosts. I didn’t handle it well the first time she died, and I am barely keeping it together for the second time. I won’t survive a third time.”

“Dr. Chakwas is working on that weird serum with Liara, and when we find the Commander, it’ll do its thing. We just gotta keep trusting our people, like we always have. We’re going to get her back, Garrus, I promise.”

Garrus looked up at his friend with a surge of warmth and appreciation towards the pilot, followed immediately by an icy chill. Fidgeting in his seat, Garrus set his glass down.

“Jeff, I’m… I’m so sorry about EDI. I had no idea what to say before, but I need you to know it’s not because I don’t care, I just-”

“It’s okay, I get it, don’t worry.”

Joker chewed the inside of his cheek roughly, setting his glass down as he sat back on the couch. He absently picked up his hat, crushing it between his hands as he took a long breath in, then out.

“I know you care, Garrus. About a helluva lot of things, including EDI and I. And I won’t pretend it doesn’t fucking hurt, man,” he said, mouth twitching as he looked at his feet. “I keep waiting for her to sit down beside me at the helm, or share some lame ass joke she learned from Adams. She was as real to me as Shepard is to you. But this is different,” Joker looked back up at Garrus, “there’s no chance for EDI now, but the Commander may have one, and we have to take it. For better or worse. We all owe her that much.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment, before the pilot chuckled.

“When the hell did I start giving pep talks,” he said, getting a snicker from Garrus. Rising, he clasped the turian’s forearm and helped him to his feet, offering an encouraging smile to the Acting Captain as they walked out to the elevator, though Garrus was drifting deep into his thoughts.

As the elevator door began to shut on him, Joker stuck his hand out abruptly, stopping it to stare awkwardly at him.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“Y’know uh, Gabriella? Kenneth, all them below deck? When we told them what we wanted to do, where we were going, all of them said yes, immediately. Every single one of them. Never seen anything like that before, but then again, never worked on a ship like the Normandy before. But she’s ours. And so is the Commander.”

At a loss for words, he nodded and waved as Joker disappeared down the elevator, then returned to the room, locked the door, and shut all the lights off.

Garrus stood still in the illuminated darkness, letting the silence settle on him. It was a comfort and a nightmare, the stillness of quiet. Slowly, he stripped away his armour and clothing. It was meditative to do so, as if he was removing his wounds, his very soul, for examination. When only his trousers remained, he ran cold water in the bathroom sink and washed his hands, face (and mandibles), and arms in it, up to his shoulders.

He had seen Shepard do this countless times before, usually when she needed to clear her mind after a debriefing or mission. He had asked if it was a human thing to do, and she had paused, then chuckled and shrugged, drying her arms off as she spoke.

“For some of us, yeah.”

Grabbing a towel, he dried off his arms as he padded back towards the bed. A saxophone was playing a sweet rhythm from the radio still as he lay down and stared up at the ceiling.

Joker’s rallying words, alongside the Normandy’s new mission objective, was the crutch that he was leaning on, heavily. It felt as if he were moving mountains to set aside the excruciating heartache for tenured resolve.

Shifting on the bed so his arm was behind his head, Garrus thought to himself, If this is my first and only command as a captain, I’d be more than happy to never be in a position of power again. Anything for her.

***

The ship was alive with preparations, as if they hadn’t just won a war a couple hours ago, the prospect of achieving their goal the only renewable energy source they could draw on for themselves. Garrus tried not to think about the bags under the eyes of the crew, even though Joker had assured him that every hand on deck was ready, willing, and unhesitating to see this through. Instead, he wondered what turians would be like if they had the iron will and fortitude a human does.

He had opted to stay in the captain’s quarters after Joker left, scrolling through Shepard’s datapad, trying to find any clues as to what she could have ordered, custom-made, even. Whenever she had to use a gun not her own, she would comment on what was different between her weapons and the one she’s “borrowing”: the trigger was sticky, sights were a mess, and so on. Maybe she was getting a new gun… from a place called Palaven’s Treasures?

A buzz through the comms jolted Garrus from his thoughts.

“Garrus, it’s Tali,” her voice said over the speaker, “I was wondering, should we tell Admiral Hackett what we’re going to do? Maybe he could assist us, clear out some debris so it’s not such a minefield.”

She couldn’t see him, but he was shaking his head before she finished her sentence.

“With all due respects, I don’t think Hackett would appreciate us going back to find her. And we haven’t gone back to meet anyone yet, assess the damage. He wouldn’t let us fly the Normandy so close to all that garbage,” Garrus said, adding, “And, at least this way if-if there’s nothing there, he won’t be any worse off, y’know?”

“Hrmm, well,” Tali let out a soft exhale, and Garrus could hear her nodding her agreement, “it’s your call, Captain. Let me know if you have any change in thought.”

The comms went silent, leaving Garrus feeling awkward. With a sigh, he sat down heavily at Shepard’s desk, admiring the personal touches she had added over the years: her beloved model ship collection, a stack of fictitious novels from both human and turian authors with a few bookmarks stuck between pages, and a collage of photos that sat in its place of pride, to the right of the terminal.

The smile that crept onto his face was one free from grief, even if only for those brief moments, as he scanned the photos: a sneaky candid Kaidan had snapped of Vala and him working in the main battery, frowns on their face as they discussed power supply; another stolen snap of Garrus looking out at the Normandy from the docking bay, leaning over the rails and lost in thought; the entirety of Shepard’s crew and companions, taken in her apartment living room after being forced into shore leave by Hackett; a selfie of Shepard and him from atop the Presidium, their smiles wide and laughing; and the most recent, the two of them in finery, raising a toast to the camera in the Silver Coast, Vala’s head on his shoulder, their arms around one another’s waist.

“Captain,” Joker’s voice came over his personal comm, the title making Garrus wince, “ETA to Crucible air space is eight minutes. If you need to gear up, now’s the time.”

“Ten-four, thanks Joker,” he replied, and the comms went silent.

Sparing the room one last backwards glance, Garrus headed to the armory posthaste in autopilot, a thousand thoughts and scenarios playing out behind his eyes.

Kaidan, Javik, and Tali were already there, prepping their suits and loadouts. A dark-haired man approached him from where the shuttle was parked, and saluted him.

“Captain,” Steve Cortez greeted him somberly, “if I may, the Admiral made a good choice promoting you. You have the full support of the Normandy, no questions asked, but I have to be honest - I’m nervous about this.”

“Stand down Steve, please, we’re friends,” Garrus admonished gently, “and for what it’s worth, I’m a goddamn nervous wreck. I have no idea what to expect, or if I should expect anything at all.”

A ghost of a smile touched the corners of Steve’s mouth. “If being on the Normandy has taught me anything, it’s to be ready for anything. Now, in the famous words of our fearless leader, we should go.”

“Ready to go?”

Kaidan appeared beside Garrus, fully armored with his helmet beneath his arm, firearms strapped firmly to his hips, rifle on his back. Tali and Javik joined them in similar attire, and Garrus took the opportunity to do a once-over of his own weapon.

“As I can be,” he replied, trying to inject some semblance of lightheartedness into his voice. The five of them boarded the shuttle in single file, Cortez pulling up the rear to shut and secure the door behind them.