Event Horizon || Garrus Vakarian x FemShep

Chapter Nine: Solar Flare

It did not take long for Commander Shepard to continue following the leads laid out for her by the Illusive Man. The day after Garrus woke up from Dr. Chakwas's surgery, she began making plans to search for Mordin Solus; rumors stated that he had purposefully set himself up behind the lines of a quarantine zone, though solid details on the reasons behind the quarantine were initially scarce. She and her team would have to investigate personally before pressing on, as the woman was not especially looking forward to rubbing noses with Aria again and risking her ire.

As she exited the elevator on the crew deck, still tugging the gloves of her hardsuit on after dressing in the armory, Garrus was rummaging around in the mess hall's refrigerator... Much to Mess Sergeant Gardner's chagrin.

"Do you seriously not have any dextro food other than military rations? Some of these look like they're left over from the First Contact war."

The balding man snorted from across the kitchen, lifting his hands up in an exaggerated shrug, "Oh, I'm sorry! I only cook food for people who eat like I do. If I had been told that a bird would be coming on board, I'd have gone back to Le Cordon Bleu!"

The turian had been hunched over, head deep in the fridge, but he stood straight and peered at Gardner over its door with a deadpan expression, "What are you even talking about? 'Gordon Blue'?"

Shepard couldn't help overhearing their little spat as she moved to Miranda's office. She paused to stand a few feet behind the mess sergeant, and despite the smile threatening to curl her lips, she managed to fold her arms and clear her throat to cut the tension.

"Mess Sergeant; Garrus. Are we playing nice?"

Though his face was still half-hidden by the fridge door, she could tell that Garrus was smiling by the way his brow-plates lifted and flared out slightly; his human counterpart reeled around to salute her quickly.

"Yes ma'am! I was just lamenting to, uh, Garrus that I don't have much dextro stock on board. We actually don't have much of anything outside of basic necessities; up-top didn't give me a lot to work with."

Behind the woman, the two crewmates who often ate together chimed in, jeering good-naturedly, "So you've improvised by mixing in dirt and your own special 'mystery meat', Gardner! I'm surprised we haven't died yet."

The human rolled his eyes, used to the teasing.

"If I had some real ingredients, I might be able to whip up something better than bean swill and scrambled xeno-eggs for the crew."

He shrugged.

"Maybe even something for dextro-aligned folk, especially if you're going to be expanding this ragtag army, here."

Shepard nodded along with his words, stomach rolling with agreement: Her breakfast this morning hadn't settled well, and apparently for good reason. She lifted a hand to appease him.

"If it'll help, I'll look around for fresh ingredients the next time we touch down on the Citadel. It should be soon. Just shoot over a list of what you need - dextro and levo alike - and if I find any promising merchants, I'll requisition them appropriately."

The balding man grinned, saluting her again: "Yes ma'am! Thank you."

With that sorted, the commander began to resume her course to Miranda's office next door, but heavy footsteps trotted over to match her pace. Garrus gestured for her to stop before she approached the doors.

"Hey, Shepard; mind if I ask what the loadout is for today?"

The turian lifted both hands, palms flat and facing each other as he held them about three feet apart, "Is this gonna be something I need a big gun for, or..."