[Won't be so bad. There's no proof that the agony Thane went through had been connected to his failure, but Garrus can't think of another reason that would have happened. And yet Garrus doesn't want to try to convince Samus otherwise, because there's precious little optimism to be had here anymore.

Garrus takes another drink instead of raining on her parade, and realizes he can already feel that something's a little off, that he's definitely starting to get impaired. He just has to hope they're not about to be attacked again.]

Good guy.

[Before Macha, he would have easily agreed with that. But even he's got civilian blood on his hands now. None of the neraki had wanted their prisoners free.]

I agree with what we're about. What Armada says we're about. Protecting. I want to keep the people here safe, my world safe, that sort of thing. With that focus, it's not so hard.

[There's a beat as he swirls his drink around in his glass, looking into its sparkly depths. Garrus' voice gets heavier, his subharmonics dropping to be sad faint rumbles.]

But I know some of the neraki I shot, some of the ones I zapped, some of the ones I stabbed, were civilians. Wrong place wrong time. Wrong planet. Not their fault, but they're all gonna die. I don't like it. But there isn't a choice.

[He does far more than not liking it. Sure, he couldn't tell one neraki from another if his life depended on it, but he's got some mental images of the civilian ones he'd downed, the way their leaves had looked, their height. He has an approximate number, too, and it's a number he knows he'll be adding to.]