Garrus, for his part, had been doing whatever he could to keep's Spectre's attention. He kept up a steady barrage of glimmering energy cannonballs - each one taking a wide, curving arc to impact the Spectre from an odd angle. They didn't seem to do any appreciable damage of course, but they didn't need to as long as they kept him distracted.

He was about to hurl another when Dick appears at his side, offering the spear.

There's a part of Garrus that's reluctant to take it - that would much rather wave Dick off and tell him to find someone else. It'd probably be better that way. Garrus might have commendable discipline under fire, but self-control? Resisting some of his darker, more destructive impulses when he really gets pushed?

He's been less than great about that.

But he doesn't say any of that. Garrus has only known Dick for a little while, but he's got the sense that Dick knows what he's doing. If he's handing the spear off, it's because he believes Garrus has a better shot at getting this done than he does. Garrus might not share that assessment, but he trust's Dick's instincts and he knows that every second they wait was a chance for things to spiral out of control.

So, instead of arguing, he nods and takes the spear without hesitation. As Dick sprints off, Garrus moves as well. He can hear the whispering in the back of his mind as he searches for a vantage point. The words are indistinguishable, but they send an icy chill running down his spine.

Let's make this quick.