Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

The Krogan's eyes, round with amazement, are an amazing sight. The most interesting thing is that he still did not understand who he was talking about. But I was impressed. In advance.

"That's how it is..." a short shake of the heavy head. "Good luck in... bringing back your Evil."

Nihlus closed his eyes and nodded.

"I heard you've crossed paths with Rex Urdnot."

"There is such a thing." I smiled.

"No one has seen him for a long time." Krogan said suggestively.

"Well... I don't know, I don't know... When I saw him, he was happily rummaging through the arsenal."

Greste bowed his head in surprise.

"In what arsenal?"

"In the ship building."

"What ship?"

"On mine."

The Krogan blinked in surprise.

"What's Rex doing on your ship?" I glanced at the omny-tool screen.

"Judging by the time, he should now be eagerly gutting a package from the arsenals of the Special Corps. They were supposed to deliver it. What's your interest?"

"Urdnot Greste." The Krogan introduced himself with a grin.

Wow!

"Oh, how! Are you wondering where your leader is?"

"Do you know already?"

"Sure." I shrugged my shoulders. "As soon as he gets tired of hanging around with us and collecting all the problems of the galaxy on his ass, we will kindly throw him on the Tuchanka."

"He will never get tired of collecting all the problems of the galaxy."

Greste replied reasonably, knowing his leader very well.

We laughed.

"Okay, we'll get out of here. It's not very good to drink in a bar whose previous owner you shot."

Greste chuckled.

"So it was you?"

"I promised." I spread my hands. "Come on, handsome!"

On this cheerful note, we said goodbye and crawled to the exit. Almost at the door, I was acutely aware of someone else's heavy interest. Tripping slightly, I hung onto Garrus's arm and turned, falling slightly on my foot, quickly isolating the source from the crowd. A tall, powerful Turian in C-SEC armor. And the face is familiar... and tattoos like Garrus's...

Understanding came instantly. Holy shit! Vakarian is the elder...

The door closed, cutting us off from the bar.

"Rin, what happened?" I was carefully set on my feet.

"Garrus... Either I imagined it, or I saw your father." The guy shuddered. "And he followed us purposefully."

A moment of stupor and an uncertain answer:

"Rin... I'm not ready to talk to my dad right now..."

Nihlus blinked in surprise. We've never seen Garrus so lost and confused! It's true that things aren't going well with his dad.

"In that case, we'd better hurry."

When Kirrus Vakarian left the bar, there was no one in the dimly lit hallway. Sighing heavily, the man shook his head and wearily ran his hand over the comb. The son disappeared again in an unknown direction.

But this time he had a clue. Those two. He recognized the Turian. Nihlus Krayk. The spectr of the Council. Student of Saren Arterius. And an unknown human woman.

"What have you gotten yourself into, son..." The low voice faded into the silence.

Chapter 26: A Kind Parting Kick in the Ass

After a hasty escape from the Kora's Lair, we stumbled into a small club on another petal of the Citadel. None of us knew what kind of place it was. Which was good, no one knew us or bothered us either. We looked, however, warily and cautiously, until we realized what was going on: openly carried weapons of far from civilian modifications and a short Turian sword on Nihlus' hip. But at least they didn't touch it, having sensibly reasoned that there are a lot of C-SEC posts on the Citadel, and since we haven't been swept up yet, it means that we have the right to carry these weapons. And then we completely forgot when we realized that we would not be violent.

The near-encounter with his father had thrown Garrus off balance. The guy was sitting depressed and upset, thoughtlessly staring into his glass. Nihlus was tactfully silent, but I... at first I didn't pry into his soul. I thought he'd leave on his own. But no... Garrus was slowly and surely slipping into melancholy, winding himself up for some reason.

"Garrus." I shook his shoulder, bringing him back to the real world.

He blinked in surprise, staring at me blankly with bright light blue eyes. Now, in civilian clothes, without armor and weapons, he really was perceived as an ordinary hooligan guy with a lot of problems that he masterfully hid from others behind his equanimity, slight sarcasm and harmless banter. Only now his inner armor has visibly cracked, exposing the soul of a deeply lonely intelligent man with a lot of problems and complexes. He still hasn't gotten used to the idea that he's not alone anymore. That there are those who will support him under any circumstances and no matter what.

"Something happened?" a cautious question, said in a completely unhappy voice.

"You tell me why you're not yourself."

"Ah..." he waved it away. "It's okay."

I grabbed his hand.

"This is NOT normal!"

Garrus blinked, looking into my eyes in confusion. He turned his gaze to Nihlus, but when he met a hard gaze, he drooped.

"You know we'll support you in any case." calmly pressed Nihlus. "Do you trust us with your life in battle, but not with your problems?"

"This..."

"The same thing! Trust is trust!"

Garrus looked at his brush, which I held in my hands, confused, not knowing what to do. That's how he could, having served in the C-SEC investigation department for who knows how many years, maintain such shyness and self-doubt? He just amazes me sometimes! I do not dispute that the versatility of personality is great, but you need to know the measure! Garrus on the battlefield and Garrus sitting next to me right now are two completely different personalities.

For a while, he fell out of reality again, thinking about our words and.. gathering my thoughts. We didn't say anything. Nihlus just kept quiet, and I held Garrus' hand. Finally, he was ready to talk.

"You know about... the peculiarities of our society, Rin?" dully, he began the conversation with a question.

"I know."

A short nod, and then in the same hollow voice:

"I'm the youngest in the family. I never have been... enough... disciplined. Because of this, I had problems not only with my father, but also with my immediate superiors. In training, in C-SEC. Such neglect is not welcome among our people. They don't understand him. I'm a bad Turian."

Is Garrus the bad guy? From which side? I've never seen a more loyal and honest reasonable person in my life! And his adventurism, prudent riskiness, gambling, courage on the verge of losing the instinct of self-preservation, and a thirst for adventure, coupled with shyness in some ways, only add to the charm.

Nihlus, who had a lot more fun with subordination and discipline than Garrus, just snorted. I grimaced.

"And you're generally silent, the joy of discipline, ignoring orders!"

Garrus blinked in surprise at the grinning kinsman.

"Yes, yes, our Nihlus has problems with discipline... he also often ignored the orders of his immediate superiors if he thought they were... not quite right."

"It was like that." Nihlus graciously agreed. "And then I caught Saren's eye, and he nominated me as a candidate for the SPECTR."

Garrus flinched.

"Me too... They pushed it. But my father resisted. He believed that I would eventually consider myself superior to others. Above the law." There was a hint of irony in his voice. "He often cited your mentor, Saren, as an example of the Spectr and its methods. Not too legitimate... or even illegal ones."

"Are you going to be above the law?" Nihlus looked skeptically at the embarrassed Garrus. "With your desire for justice? Your father doesn't know you at all, if that's what he thinks. The whole shadow Citadel knows that, but your father doesn't."

Garrus shrugged his shoulders.

"We often quarreled on this ground. For the last time, we... They said a lot... too much." Garrus rubbed his free hand over his face, looking at us in frustration. "Things that shouldn't have been said."

"How long ago was that?" I asked cautiously.

Garrus flinched all over, but confessed in a hollow, cracked voice.

"Three years ago."

Holy shit! Three years! He avoided his father for three years, working with him in the same structure! Now it is clear where such fear and insecurity come from, generously seasoned with pain and guilt. He'll eat himself up like that someday! Especially if the father suddenly dies.

For a very short time, I felt sympathy for the elder Vakarian. I saw the look in his eyes. He definitely wanted to catch Garrus and talk. To close the gap of misunderstanding that has opened between them. He's genuinely worried about his son. She's just scared for his life! And rightly so. There are reasons. The elder Vakarian knows perfectly well how famous Garrus has become among the local scumbags and what kind of raids are being organized on him! Yes, the whole C-SEC and the Citadel knows it! That's just it... If he looks even a little like his son, then he won't say what he wants with all his heart, but what he has to say. And all his endeavors will end in another conflict. As if not the last. And Garrus understands that perfectly well. Maybe that's why he's avoiding his father. To delay this conversation and the inevitable final breakup?

"And you haven't been in touch since?" I asked quietly, catching his eye.

"No"

And in her bright blue light eyes there is longing and pain. Garrus genuinely loves his family, but keeps his distance from them. He doesn't even risk getting close. He knows that he will not be understood, and does not even try to explain himself, so as not to spoil the relationship even more and not disappoint his loved ones. I just don't have the words! A completely lonely guy with a living and loving family! And they love him, as far as I remember, even though they don't take him seriously. Mda...

Nihlus sat brooding and overcast. Did you also appreciate the depth of Vakarian's ass? I must have appreciated it! Yes, I also felt it! He can't help but feel it, even if he wants to. He doesn't know how to shut himself off yet. Empathy is sometimes a true evil. And Garrus is shaking so much that his mind is twisted by a storm of emotions, even though his face is wearing the usual mask of equanimity and calm.

Is it any wonder that he became attached to us so quickly and firmly? We accepted him for who he is, with all his advantages and disadvantages. Without masks and pretense, without saying a single word of censure, without trying to force us to adapt to us and break our personality. Garrus is smart and observant, and it was not difficult for an excellent investigator to understand exactly how he was treated. And once he understood, he couldn't help but accept what was offered to him. Just like that, without demanding anything in return. I couldn't give up what I wanted so much. We became his family, albeit unconsciously, on an instinctive level. A reasonable person cannot be completely alone without harm to reason. Moreover, he is alone in a crowd. There should be an inner circle. It may be narrow, but it has to be! But Garrus didn't have one, and the guy was slowly stewing in his problems, gradually acquiring an outer armor of equanimity, unshakeable calmness and ironic sarcasm.

Nihlus himself has no one close to him except Saren. That's why he freaks out at the thought of a mentor. Although... What a mentor he is to the demons! I've seen quite a lot of images in Nihlus' memory. Saren may have been holding a brick in his face, but his actions speak for themselves. This is not the way to treat a student, colleague, or friend. That's how they treat their little brother!

I called up the menu and dialed the order. Garrus practically did not perceive reality, plunged back into gloomy thoughts, and Nihlus only looked at me skeptically, but did not object. We're flying to Vermaer tomorrow. And who knows how things will go. There are too many unknowns. The risk of failure is too high.

"Fuck it all!" I squeezed the hard and hot brush. "I have no one in this reality at all. Just the two of you. So... May it all burn with the flame of decay! Tomorrow we will be in space, but in the meantime we are walking."

"Do you want to please Sparatus?" Nihlus asked ironically.

"Did you see his face? He's just looking forward to morning reading and a boost of energy for the whole day ahead!"

"Then... Let's not disappoint our immediate superiors." Krayk grinned.

Our order was brought to us. The pretty Azari looked at me strangely as she set the bottles on the table. The reason only came to me when I saw the outright horror on her face when we poured alcohol and started drinking. She even came over and tried to warn:

"This is for you... You can't! It's Turian alcohol!"

I looked skeptically at the familiar bottle.

"I can. My body digests both types of foods. Thank you for your concern."

The Asari nodded uncertainly and retreated. And I took the glass Nihlus held out... She noted alcohol as not life-threatening, preventing the body from equating it to poison and instantly splitting it into safe components. Since we're walking... So we're going for a walk. I want to get drunk in good company and forget about ALL the problems at least until the morning. Even if later I will be painfully ashamed of what I will do on a drunken head.

Apparently, similar thoughts were walking in the minds of the Turians, as we set to work cheerfully. Garrus was drowning his thoughts about his family, Nihlus was drowning his thoughts about Saren, who had firmly taken the place of his long-dead brother, at the same time trying to distance himself from the storm of Garrus' emotions. Of course, nothing worked out for him, but by the end of the fifth bottle, Vakarian recovered a little and perked up. We started telling stories from life. When Saren's name was mentioned again, our brains turned on and it dawned on us that it was normal for us not to relax in front of strangers, because we would have to filter the speech. Loaded up with alcohol, we went to Nihlus.

Apparently, Nihlus made a mistake when he indicated the destination, as the taxi dropped us off at the markets of the Lower City. After looking around the area with a happy gaze, we stumbled through the entire Market for some kind of horseradish to the far taxi terminal, pushing reasonable people aside with our elbows. Naturally, we couldn't help but run into a compliment. Some big-eyed Batarian mug recognized the drunken Turian, half-hanging on Nihlus, as the familiar and reverently beloved Garrus Vakarian, and with a cry of "That's him!", Batar reached for a pistol. Garrus woke up for just a moment: silently snatching the pistol from the clip, he put a bullet between the four eyes of the noisy freak, looked around with unfocused eyes at the fucking people, and asked hoarsely: