Re: All the king's horses, all the king's men. 5/? F!Shep/Garrus
anonymous
April 19 2012, 21:20:17 UTC
“Garrus?” Shepard looked up as Miranda stared down at them from the doorway, “as in Garrus Vakarian, from the original Normandy?” Shepard almost can’t look at the pity and horror stamped on that perfect face.
“Yeah, this is Garrus, you know, the same Garrus your boss said had disapeared,” the bitterness in her voice makes Miranda jerk back.
“You can’t possibly think he had anything to do with this?” Miranda looks genuinely shocked at the suggestion, "what possible purpose would we have in sending him here?”
“I thought that was the cerberus manifesto, the subjugation of aliens,” Shepard is well aware she is being petty, but she cant find it within herself to care about her unreasonable assumptions of cerberus involvement.
Miranda opens her mouth to answer, but seems to think better of it, pursing her lips into a thin line as she steps back from the cell. The sharp echo of footsteps approaching makes Shepard ease slowly to her feet.
“Ah, Shepard,” Warden Kuril’s mandibles are quirked in a self-satisfied smirk as he strolls casually into view, “I see you’ve found my new toy.” At the sound of the Wardens rumbling voice, Garrus gives an almost convulsive jerk, a low, strangled moan rattling in his throat, the tormented sound hitting Shepard in the gut like a concussive round.
“What’s your price,” Shepard grates out, hating herself for even having to consider making this a monetary transaction, but what they can’t afford right now is to start a war in the facility.
“By the hour, or would you like a bit longer than that?” Kuril taps a mocking talon against his chin, as a reappeared Decker barks a laugh at the quip. Seeing that Shepard wasn’t even going to respond to that, Kuril shrugs, “so you want to rescue your former crewmate, how sweet....but I seriously doubt you have the credits to make that transaction appealing to me. You see I’m rather attached to this prisoner.”The warden lopes a few more steps into the cell, “I had some good friends on Omega, I like to keep reminding Archangel here that I tend to take their deaths somewhat personaly.”
“Twenty thousand” Shepard offers, and feeling sickly guilty, she gestures at Garrus. “Its a good deal, he cant possibly last that much longer, he’s more than half dead already.”
“Sixty thousand,” Kuril twitches his mandibles higher into an all out grin, as Miranda makes a wordless sound of protest at the price.
“Forty.” Shepard grits her jaw, after the fee for Jack the Normandy account was just below fifty-thousand, she could only hope that she could bargain Kuril to the lower price. “And two hundred units of element zero,” she added, seeing the Warden’s eyes flicker with greed at the offer.
The Warden deliberates for a long moment, sharp gaze flickering between Shepard, and the hunched prisoner at her feet. “Fine,” he eventually shrugs dismissively, “Decker, do prep Shepard’s new aquisition for transport will you; Miss Lawson will come with me to see that your half of the bargain is transfered correctly.” Kuril swept his arm across Mirnda’s shoulders, ignoring the look of revulsion on her face as he propelled her away down the hallway.Staring off after them, Shepard felt a flash of gratitude for miranda's silent restraint.
Shoving roughly past her, Decker grabbed Garrus by his broken shoulder, pulling the arm back sharply, making the turian twist forward to avoid the agony of the torque on the mangled joint. Before Shepard could protest, the guard pressed a small device to the back of Garrus’ neck, and a half second later Shepard heard the sharp snap as the neural stunner discharged. Garrus went instantly limp in Decker’s grasp, and the grizzled merc fisted a hand into the tattered remains of his shirt and hauled the slack form out past the cell door, pitching him onto the hall floor with a dull thud. “Enjoy commander,” he muttered sullenly.
In the bright lights of the hallway, Garrus’ condition looked worse than it had in the dimness of the cell. Gently turning him over, Shepard pressed her fingers to his neck, feeling his pulse, weak and eratic beneath the abnormaly cold hide. “Its all over now,” she hates the choking feeling of tears in the back of her throat, “we’re going home now. We’re going home, and its all going to be ok.”
“Yeah, this is Garrus, you know, the same Garrus your boss said had disapeared,” the bitterness in her voice makes Miranda jerk back.
“You can’t possibly think he had anything to do with this?” Miranda looks genuinely shocked at the suggestion, "what possible purpose would we have in sending him here?”
“I thought that was the cerberus manifesto, the subjugation of aliens,” Shepard is well aware she is being petty, but she cant find it within herself to care about her unreasonable assumptions of cerberus involvement.
Miranda opens her mouth to answer, but seems to think better of it, pursing her lips into a thin line as she steps back from the cell. The sharp echo of footsteps approaching makes Shepard ease slowly to her feet.
“Ah, Shepard,” Warden Kuril’s mandibles are quirked in a self-satisfied smirk as he strolls casually into view, “I see you’ve found my new toy.” At the sound of the Wardens rumbling voice, Garrus gives an almost convulsive jerk, a low, strangled moan rattling in his throat, the tormented sound hitting Shepard in the gut like a concussive round.
“What’s your price,” Shepard grates out, hating herself for even having to consider making this a monetary transaction, but what they can’t afford right now is to start a war in the facility.
“By the hour, or would you like a bit longer than that?” Kuril taps a mocking talon against his chin, as a reappeared Decker barks a laugh at the quip. Seeing that Shepard wasn’t even going to respond to that, Kuril shrugs, “so you want to rescue your former crewmate, how sweet....but I seriously doubt you have the credits to make that transaction appealing to me. You see I’m rather attached to this prisoner.”The warden lopes a few more steps into the cell, “I had some good friends on Omega, I like to keep reminding Archangel here that I tend to take their deaths somewhat personaly.”
“Twenty thousand” Shepard offers, and feeling sickly guilty, she gestures at Garrus. “Its a good deal, he cant possibly last that much longer, he’s more than half dead already.”
“Sixty thousand,” Kuril twitches his mandibles higher into an all out grin, as Miranda makes a wordless sound of protest at the price.
“Forty.” Shepard grits her jaw, after the fee for Jack the Normandy account was just below fifty-thousand, she could only hope that she could bargain Kuril to the lower price. “And two hundred units of element zero,” she added, seeing the Warden’s eyes flicker with greed at the offer.
The Warden deliberates for a long moment, sharp gaze flickering between Shepard, and the hunched prisoner at her feet. “Fine,” he eventually shrugs dismissively, “Decker, do prep Shepard’s new aquisition for transport will you; Miss Lawson will come with me to see that your half of the bargain is transfered correctly.” Kuril swept his arm across Mirnda’s shoulders, ignoring the look of revulsion on her face as he propelled her away down the hallway.Staring off after them, Shepard felt a flash of gratitude for miranda's silent restraint.
Shoving roughly past her, Decker grabbed Garrus by his broken shoulder, pulling the arm back sharply, making the turian twist forward to avoid the agony of the torque on the mangled joint. Before Shepard could protest, the guard pressed a small device to the back of Garrus’ neck, and a half second later Shepard heard the sharp snap as the neural stunner discharged. Garrus went instantly limp in Decker’s grasp, and the grizzled merc fisted a hand into the tattered remains of his shirt and hauled the slack form out past the cell door, pitching him onto the hall floor with a dull thud. “Enjoy commander,” he muttered sullenly.
In the bright lights of the hallway, Garrus’ condition looked worse than it had in the dimness of the cell. Gently turning him over, Shepard pressed her fingers to his neck, feeling his pulse, weak and eratic beneath the abnormaly cold hide. “Its all over now,” she hates the choking feeling of tears in the back of her throat, “we’re going home now. We’re going home, and its all going to be ok.”
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