Chapter Text

Thane's fingers remain steady as he pulls back blonde locks and clips in the tiny pink flowers. Adora bounces slightly in anticipation, her excitement barely contained.

"Will it be bigger than this ship?" she asks, eyes bright with curiosity. "As big as the Citadel?"

Thane nods, reaching for another barrette. "Much bigger than our ship, but not quite as expansive as the Citadel." He releases a quiet sigh, ensuring she doesn't hear his concern, and pulls another strand of hair back behind her head. "You must listen to your brother and grandparents. Do as they ask."

"Yes, Daddy." She sways her plush toy in her arms, its velvet legs swinging with each twirl of her small body.

"Adora, please remain still," Thane says softly. She stops and turns to face him, her expression suddenly serious. "If I'm to arrange your hair properly, I need you to be as still as you can manage."

"You have to promise me, Daddy." Her voice carries a weight that seems too heavy for such a young child. "You won't forget me when you go."

Thane's hands pause their work, then reach forward to push a stray lock from her eyes, securing it with another floral barrette. "I could never forget you, my darling. But I will miss you." He leans forward, placing a soft kiss atop her golden curls. "I will miss you with every part of my being."

"You don't forget anything, do you?"

"Nothing important." Thane smiles at her, his expression warm despite the ache in his chest. "And neither does your brother," he adds with a knowing look. "So don't think you can trick him into anything."

"I'll miss you too, Daddy." She reaches up around his neck and squeezes tightly. He closes his eyes and commits this moment to perfect memory—her warmth, her scent, the weight of her small arms around him.

"Ten minutes," Garrus announces from the doorway, entering with two travel bags. "I think I managed to get everything packed." He sets the bags down with practiced efficiency. "Mind if I get in on this hugging business?"

Adora breaks from Thane and runs to Garrus. Lifting her effortlessly, Garrus smiles at her in a way that soothes the worry in Thane's heart.

"You're going to be good for everyone?" Garrus asks, his tone gentle but expectant.

"Yes." Adora nods with exaggerated solemnity.

"Listen to Kolyat and Auntie Sol?" Garrus continues his checklist.

"Yes!" She groans and buries her face in her plush toy. "I will listen. You keep asking me that!" She looks up, frustration creeping into her voice. "I will be good."

"We keep asking because we have to," Garrus explains gently, then chuckles. "And you'll listen to Gran Hestia and your Grandfather?"

Adora blinks and looks around before yelling "Yes!" without actually considering her words, then bops Garrus on the head with her toy. "STOP ASKING ME!"

Garrus gives her a sideways glance, mandibles quirking in amusement. "I don't believe you, and no hitting." He smiles again, leaning into her neck to flutter his mandibles across her skin. "Hitting means I get to tickle you."

"Papa!" she squeals. "STOP!"

Thane smiles and reaches up to her foot, running his finger around her ankle. "DADDY! NO!" She squirms as Garrus barely maintains his hold on her.

A knock interrupts their moment. They all turn to see Kolyat standing in the doorway, a bag slung over his shoulder and resignation in his posture.

"It's time," he says softly. "Come on, curls. We have to go."

"Okay." Garrus sets her down and meets Thane's gaze. Neither of them speaks—they both know there's no choice now.

Adora runs to Kolyat, taking his hand as they move toward the back of their ship.

"I hate this," Garrus says, his tone carrying that particular edge Thane has learned to recognize—the one that borders on barely controlled worry.

"As do I," Thane replies quietly, "but we have little alternative. After you've handled your affairs, of course."

"Going to be strange having my colony markings again." Garrus turns to examine his reflection in the mirror of Adora's room. "But I won't refuse if the Hierarchy is offering forgiveness."

"There's nothing to forgive," Thane states firmly—it's been his position throughout this ordeal. "You did nothing wrong. Love isn't a crime."

Garrus turns back to him. "Do you want me to stay barefaced? I can, if you prefer."

"I want you to make whatever choice feels right to you. I won't deprive you of your autonomy in this matter." Thane frowns slightly and reaches up to touch Garrus's face. "I love you—with marks or without them. It makes no difference to me."

Garrus's mandibles flutter in what Thane recognizes as a pleased expression. "I hoped that's what you'd say." He nods decisively. "I want to do it. Besides, we don't know what we'll face on Kahje. I want to ensure I'm as respectable as possible."

"I understand your reasoning," Thane acknowledges, "though we have little say in how this proceeds. Our representatives will handle everything, including my reinsertion into the Compact."

They've argued about this multiple times already. This is the price of Thane's continued life—they've been able to delay until now, but their excuses have finally run out.

Garrus takes his hand and kisses him gently. "Let's go, Mr. Krios-Vakarian. We shouldn't keep my mother waiting."

"Agreed."

The Turian warship Agilla boasts a massive cargo bay that dwarfs their modest vessel.

"Whoa," Adora breathes, looking around in wonder. "Auntie Jane needs a ship like this."

"Auntie Jane couldn't afford it," Garrus chuckles, lifting her into his arms.

"Though perhaps we could manage it," Thane observes quietly.

"Hush," Garrus laughs.

"There he is!" A door on the far side of the cargo bay opens, revealing three Turians. One of the females approaches quickly, her expression warm.

"Hello, I'm Sol," she says, smiling at Adora, who instinctively shrinks back.

"It's alright, Dora. This is your Aunt Sol." Garrus sets her down reassuringly.

"Look at all that beautiful gold," Sol says softly, kneeling to offer her palm to the girl. "May I touch it?"

"My hair?" Adora asks uncertainly.

"Yes, if you'd like." Sol's smile remains patient and kind.

Thane watches approvingly as Adora takes the offered hand and guides it to the bouncy curls at her ears. "It's soft because Daddy and Papa brush it every day," she explains, then frowns. "I don't like brushing it."

"Hair must be brushed regularly, or we'd have to cut it short," Thane explains gently. "And you've told us repeatedly that you don't want it cut. The things we wish to keep require proper maintenance."

"Garrus." The elder Turian's voice commands attention. "You look... different."

"Father," Garrus inclines his head respectfully. "Mother."

"Oh, Castis, look at our son." Garrus's mother hasn't seen him since their last visit to Palaven. "I still have difficulty adjusting to seeing you like this, fledgling."

"We'll get him properly marked again soon enough," Castis says, extending his hand. Garrus shakes it before embracing his mother. "You must be Thane."

"Sir." Thane accepts the handshake with equal formality. "And this is my son, Kolyat."

Castis Vakarian studies Kolyat with the calculating gaze of a career military officer. "Do you know how to handle yourself in a fight, son?"

"I'm proficient with firearms, if that's what you're asking," Kolyat responds with dry precision.

"There's been intelligence that Reapers are invading planets in the outer system territories," Garrus's mother interjects, her expression grave. "The situation will deteriorate before it improves."

Garrus looks up sharply from where he's been watching Adora. "What?"

"Reaper ground invasions?" Thane asks, his tactical mind immediately assessing the implications.

"Zorya was among the first planets hit," she continues. "Heshtok won't be far behind—possibly Illium as well."

"Korlus, Thessia, and Kahje are all in similar system sectors," Thane observes, his strategic training evident in his analysis.

"If they strike Kahje, the Citadel becomes the next logical target, followed by Earth," Castis confirms with a nod. "Palaven would likely follow in that sequence."

"Reapers are conducting actual planetary invasions?" Garrus asks, disbelief coloring his voice. "Full-scale ground operations?"

"What's a Reaper?" Adora looks between the adults, picking up on the tension. "Is it dangerous?"

Kolyat immediately steps forward and takes her hand, his protective instincts kicking in. "It's nothing you need to worry about," he tells her firmly, shooting a pointed look at the adults—a clear request for them to moderate their discussion.

"I can show you where your quarters are," Sol offers diplomatically. "I have a present waiting for you there."

"A present?" Adora perks up immediately, bouncing on her toes. "Can I go, Daddy?"

"Of course. Enjoy yourself," Thane says, placing a grateful hand on Kolyat's arm—a silent acknowledgment of his quick thinking.

As the younger members of their group depart, Castis turns his attention back to the adults. "Your son demonstrates good judgment."

"He does," Thane agrees. "He'll serve as Adora's guardian during our absence."

"I'd like to review this Reaper intelligence," Thane continues, his tone shifting to match Castis's military bearing. "Would that be possible?"

Castis glances at Garrus, then nods approvingly. "Of course. Follow me." He turns to his wife. "My dear, why don't you join Sol and the children?"

She smiles and touches Garrus's face affectionately. "I'll see you both at dinner."

"Yes, ma'am," Garrus responds before she follows the others.

Four tactical displays illuminate the briefing room, casting red warning indicators across the walls. Garrus and Thane study the strategic overview with professional focus.

"These red zones represent what, exactly?" Garrus asks, his C-Sec training evident in his systematic approach to the intelligence.

"Planets and installations we've lost contact with," Castis explains, manipulating the interface. "Some are space stations and supply waypoints, but we have no communication with any of them. We haven't received transmission from the Nimbus Cluster in nearly forty-eight hours."

"That shouldn't be possible," Thane murmurs, his assassin's knowledge of galactic infrastructure coming into play. "Omega going dark would require..."

"We haven't been able to get reconnaissance assets near that sector," Castis confirms grimly. "Palaven is issuing recall orders for all Turian citizens throughout Council space."

"What's the strategic endgame here, Dad?" Garrus manipulates the interface with practiced efficiency, cycling through data screens. "Long-term projections?"

"Complete galactic extinction," Castis states with quiet finality.

Before he can elaborate, a Turian officer enters and stops short upon seeing Garrus's unmarked face before handing Castis a datapad.

"Sir, the Reaper invasion has reached Alliance systems. They're requesting Turian military assistance."

The officer continues staring at Garrus until Castis dismisses him. "Thank you. Dismissed."

"What's Earth's status?" Thane inquires as soon as they're alone.

"Not yet engaged," Castis hands over the datapad, "but we lost a Turian fleet vessel carrying two admirals and forty senior officers just outside Alliance space. Earth's invasion is likely imminent."

Garrus examines the data. "With respect, sir, concentrating that much command authority in a single vessel seems tactically inadvisable."

"You're not wrong, Garrus," Castis concedes with obvious frustration. "But we're operating with available resources while waiting for better intelligence."

Garrus passes the datapad to Thane. "Can you read Turian military notation?"

"Sufficiently, thanks to Adora's language tutorials," Thane accepts the device and parses what he can from the tactical syntax. The images show Reaper movement projections and casualty estimates that make his blood run cold.

"It's a complete strategic collapse," Castis admits with defeat in his voice.

"What does that mean for us?" Garrus asks, settling against the console and meeting his father's gaze directly.

"With so many senior officers presumed dead, the command structure is fragmenting. I've been field-promoted to Admiral, which means I may need you marked and commissioned as a General."

"Dad, I warned you this would happen," Garrus's voice rises with frustration. "Shepard tried to warn the entire galaxy, but did anyone listen—"

"I know," Castis interrupts firmly. "That argument is academic now."

"Damn right it is," Garrus snaps.

"But I'm listening now," Castis states with quiet authority. "I hear you. I see you."

The words seem to deflate Garrus's anger immediately, and Thane recognizes they carry deeper significance between father and son.

"How can I help, Dad? What do you need from me?"

"I'm not entirely certain yet, but your willingness to serve is what I need right now." Castis looks around the tactical display as if searching for answers that aren't there. Thane recognizes that expression—the look of someone suddenly adrift in circumstances beyond their control.

"It appears our journey to Kahje will have to be postponed," Thane states with calm decisiveness. "We'll provide whatever assistance we can, Admiral. You have my commitment as an extension of my husband's service."

"Whatever plans the galaxy had are now in fragments," Castis observes as two more systems flash red on the display. "This invasion shows no signs of slowing."

"Then we protect what we can," Thane says simply.

"That's admirable, son, but I have obligations to the entire Turian people," Castis responds.

Garrus looks between them before speaking with renewed focus. "I need to contact Shepard immediately. We're running out of time."

"Agreed," Thane opens his hands in a gesture of tactical readiness. "What can we do to assist you, Admiral Vakarian, while we await word from the Commander?"

Castis turns from the display, his expression grim but resolute. "I wish I had a clear answer for that."

To be continued...