The asari hostess was watching the game from across the bar. There was one particular stack of poker chips that was growing unfailingly with every hand, and she had her eyes on it. She was lounging over the counter top, pretending to be busy while the seedy clientèle leered at her. It was with practised ease that she displayed her body at its best angles, pushing out her chest and arching her back, aware that the skin-tight catsuit was concealing nothing. One of her regular customers brushed past her and gave her a brief grope. She smiled and flirted, but the act earned her a meager tip.

She returned her attention to the poker game over by the window. The lucky player had added another small fortune to his pile of winnings. The hostess had been hovering around him all evening. She could see his drink was almost gone. Another chance for her to draw his attention. She straightened slowly, smoothed down her lycra suit and adjusted her cleavage. Then she moved towards him.

The player had his back to her, so he never noticed her approach. He was the only human in the bar tonight – and almost every night recently – so he already stood out. But he was a little more interesting than the average human. The asari girl had never seen a human male with such broad shoulders, or such powerful-looking arms. She had not been aware that humans could grow so large. His muscular form was visible through the fabric of his shirt, and the way his shoulder blades moved when he reached out to place a bet was almost hypnotic. He had strange markings on his skin. Besides the deep scars of past wounds, he bore some form of ink art along his forearm and neck. The asari was fascinated. And, of course, there was that pile of winnings. That certainly added to the attraction.

She sidled up behind the man and touched his shoulder gently. He glanced up at her. She liked his youthful face and his bright eyes. She liked it even better when he smiled.

'Get you a refill, handsome?' the hostess purred, drinking in the sight of him.

And there was the smile.

'Nice timing, señorita,' he said. He handed her his glass. 'I like the service here.'

One of the other players seated at the table shook an empty glass at the girl. Just another bad-tempered batarian drunk – her usual type of customer.

'Just get us some more drinks,' the batarian snapped. 'Stop distracting the kid.'

She scowled at him, but then the muscular human beside her reached up and deposited a credit chip on her serving tray. She looked down into that appealing smile.

'Don't listen to him, honey,' he assured her sweetly. 'Your kind of distraction ain't hurting my game. I think you're my lucky charm tonight.'

The girl blushed and fluttered her lashes, before sweeping away to collect the next round of drinks. She kept one eye on the poker game as the bartender poured.

'Hell, yeah!' exclaimed the burly human. 'Come to papa…'

He reached across the table to drag in another pile of chips. The batarians around him muttered their frustration, and one of them pounded a fist down on the table. This only made the human laugh.

'What's wrong, guys?' he mocked. 'Even with your two extra eyes, you can't read a poker face?'

'Your taunts are really beginning to irritate me, Vega,' one batarian snapped. 'Play the game and shut up.'

The hostess received a fresh tray of drinks and hurried to get back to the table. She leaned in especially close when placing one in front of the human, making sure that her breast brushed his arm, and lingered for a moment. He flashed her another smile.

One of the players grunted and pushed back his seat. 'Gotta change up some more credits,' he announced gruffly, standing up.

'Next game in ten,' the dealer said.

The asari girl leapt on the opportunity to spend some time with the handsome young customer. She perched herself on the chair that the other guy had left vacant. The human leaned back and stretched out, rolling his neck and shoulders until they clicked. He cracked his knuckles. The girl watched him, and her eyes roved between his credit chips and his muscular physique.

'Is your name Vega?' she said, tilting her head coyly.

The man gave her a nod. 'Uh-huh,' he replied. 'Hey, thanks for the good luck, señorita. I'm on a roll tonight.'

'What does señorita mean?' she asked him.

'Just something we call a pretty lady where I'm from.'

The girl smiled at him beneath lowered lashes. 'I like it,' she said.

The other players disappeared into the smoky gloom to top up their chips, and she was left alone at the table with Vega. He took a sip of his drink. She noticed the glint of a chain around his neck as he lifted his head. Curious, she leaned forward to examine the silver tags hanging from it.

'What does your necklace say?' she inquired, unable to make out the inscription.

He put down his glass. 'Here,' he offered, gesturing for her to come over.

She rose out of her seat and slipped onto Vega's lap. He put his arm around her slender waist. His gaze travelled down her shimmering blue face and neck as she picked up the silver tags to read them.

'Vega, James,' she read aloud. 'Lieutenant… Systems Alliance…' She turned the front tag over. 'Are you a soldier?'

'Yeah.'

She glanced at the criss-crossed flame pattern that was painted on his neck. It continued down beneath his shirt and around his forearm. 'Is that why you have these markings?' Tilting her head to one side, she reached out and traced the pattern with her fingers.

He smiled as her touch lingered on his throat. 'No, these are just for me.'

The asari bit her lower lip as she looked him over, her face close to his. His eyes were a beautiful shade of hazel and they shimmered in the light. She toyed with the collar of his shirt that was concealing the rest of the markings.

'Do you have more on your body?' she asked in a low, suggestive tone.

'I sure do…'

She edged in closer, and with a seductive lick of her lips, whispered: 'You know, Vega, there's a VIP room in the back,' she whispered. She stroked his face. 'I'd even give you a discount, just… because I like you.'

But something had caught his eye and he craned his neck to see past the girl's head. Irritated, she turned to follow his gaze. He was watching the holo screen.

'Vega,' she tried to draw him back.

'Shh, hold on.' He strained to hear. 'Hey, padre,' he called to the bar owner. 'Crank up the volume, will you?'

The asari glared at him. What the hell was so interesting on the batarian news network? She saw the owner adjust the holo screen settings from behind the bar. She turned to find out just what was so fascinating that had made the handsome soldier lose all interest in everything else.

'…named as the rogue soldier responsible for the destruction of the Bahak system,' the reporter was saying, as images of the recent terrorist attack were shown. 'A former Council Spectre, she is said to have acted independently…'

Confused, the hostess turned back to Vega. He was fixated on the screen. She tried to draw him back with a flirtatious kiss on the cheek. Finding no response, she went in deeper, kissing his neck and shoulder temptingly. He jerked his head away and shrugged her off.

'Just a minute,' he mumbled, removing his arm from around her waist. He sat up straight in his seat to catch the rest of the broadcast.

'…without orders, working with a known terrorist organisation. Commander Shepard already has a history of hate crimes against the batarian people, most notably on Torfan a few years ago. There Shepard slaughtered a group of traders after they had surrendered peacefully.'

Vega was shaking his head, a frown deepening. The girl watched his easy-going face turn steadily darker as the news reporter continued.

'While the Citadel Council scrambles to denounce the so-called "terrorist acts" allegedly carried out by Commander Shepard, batarian officials are demanding retribution. Councillor Udina has publicly denied that the human Alliance had anything to do with the destruction of the mass relay. Batarian leaders are calling for Shepard's head…'

The other poker players were returning to the table. Most of them were watching the screen as they took their seats in preparation for a new game. A few of the batarians spat on the ground in disdain for the infamous Commander Shepard. Vega was very still. The asari girl could feel the tenseness of his body and could see the muscles in his jaw clenching.

An image appeared on the screen, the slow-motion video of a human female in military attire. The asari did not recognise her. She was fair-skinned, had short raven hair and a serious face. Her eyes were not the eyes of an ordinary woman; within them a darkness lived, and it was deep. She had been through far more than any one person should ever have to. She had seen things she would never be able to forget. She stood strong, but with slightly hunched shoulders, as if the weight of the galaxy was threatening to break her. One could not help but wonder what her story was.

'Let's play,' said one of the men at the table, shuffling a deck of cards.

Vega ignored him.

'Commander Shepard has been apprehended, placed under arrest, and stripped of her rank and duties,' declared the news reader, freezing the clip of the female soldier. 'She is to be tried as a terrorist, responsible for the murder of over 30,000 batarian civilians. Human reporter Khalisah Bin Sinin Al-Jalani has informed us that the trial could result in a court-marshal, and that some are calling for the death penalty. The other likely outcome is that Shepard will be dishonourably discharged from the military and sent to prison for the remainder of her life. Either way, the "Butcher of Torfan", the "Destroyer of Bahak", will finally pay for what she has done.'

Vega took a deep breath. Then, gently, he lifted the asari girl off of his lap, placed her feet on the ground, and stood up. She stared at him in bewilderment as he left the table and walked slowly across the room. The news item continued with a pre-recorded interview with the human Councillor. Vega approached the screen as Councillor Udina's face appeared.

'We are shocked and appalled by this heinous crime,' the Councillor announced. 'Although Miss Shepard was not acting in behalf of the Systems Alliance or the Citadel Council, and neither body bears responsibility for her crime, we are determined to deliver justice-'

Before Udina could utter another word, Vega took hold of the television screen and ripped it clear off its hinges. It hit the ground and shattered, silencing both the interview and the entire bar. All eyes locked on to the young human. He turned back to his poker table, and the asari hostess scrambled to avoid his path. She fled to the end of the bar beside the krogan who owned the establishment.

'Hey!' shouted the owner, snarling at Vega. 'That's gonna cost you, kid!'

The human reached the table and gestured to his pile of poker chips. 'Take my winnings,' he responded simply. 'That should more than cover it.'

The batarians around him began to come out of their seats.

'That was an insult to all the people Shepard murdered,' said one of them.

Vega picked up his drink and knocked it back in one gulp. 'I'm not here to listen to a bunch of bullshit.'

'You don't think the batarians deserve payback?' demanded another of the gamblers, all four of his eyes narrowing sharply.

'You a Shepard lover, human?' said another.

'Why don't we all just sit down and finish our game,' Vega offered calmly. He was still standing up, watching everyone carefully. Some of the customers were beginning to advance.

The nearest batarian eyed Vega's military chain and realised: 'You're Alliance.' His teeth bared, sharp and dangerous. 'Just like Shepard.'

'Alliance types are all the same,' came one comment. 'You think you're better than us.'

Vega shrugged. 'Better looking, anyway.'

The flames of rage were being fanned. The batarian drunks were exhibiting signs of imminent physical aggression. The asari hostess cowered behind the bar, well aware that the room was about to erupt. She watched Vega with wide eyes, frightened for his safety. Didn't he see what was happening? Didn't he know how many violent batarians were gathering around him? He did not seem to be afraid, despite the fact that he was unarmed and faced with the kinds of criminals for whom weapons were as common as underwear. There was one particular batarian who was more agitated than the others, and he was reaching into his jacket for something as he bore down on Vega.

'We'll see how good looking you are after I'm done with you!'

There was a blur of chaos. The batarian lunged, a blade appearing in his hand, and Vega leapt back out of reach. With a frustrated roar, the attacker took a rush at him. The human soldier ducked a vicious slash that would have torn his throat wide open, bounced into a crouch, and came up with a shield of shattered TV screen in hand. The next thrust from the knife smashed through the screen, embedding itself in the frame. The batarian wrenched at it, but could not free his weapon. Vega took his chance, kicked the hand away from the blade, flipped the screen over, and drove the knife-impaled surface into the batarian's chest.

'Look out!' cried the asari.

Vega threw the dying man into the path of another advancing batarian, knocking him to the ground. Two more stepped over them and came for him.

'You can see your precious Commander Shepard in hell,' snarled one of them, 'After she fries for all the people she slaughtered, she'll join you there!'

Vega did not wait for another attack. He ran at the two assailants, head down, fists bared, and launched them back into the window behind them. The glass exploded. The three of them plummeted towards the promenade below. Horrified, the asari hostess flew to the window's edge to see what had become of the handsome young soldier. Upon peering down, she saw that he had managed to position one of the batarians beneath his own body to break his fall. The unfortunate victim was clearly dead, and his partner was seriously injured.

The girl watched with wide eyes as Vega lumbered to his feet, wiped the blood away from the gash above his eye, and stepped over the broken glass to meet the gang of batarians who were massing on the stairwell. No gun, no knife, no backup, the large human flexed his arms, shook away the dizziness, and broke into a run. He collided with the first of the attackers with a bestial roar, driving the batarian into the wall and cracking his skull open. Two more flanked him and latched onto one arm each. Vega almost broke free, but then two more men joined the subduction. The leader of the batarian group came to face him, savouring the sight of the pinned and helpless human. He took a swing at Vega's face, sending a gush of blood onto the ground. Vega wrenched at his captors, shouting. The lead batarian gave him a sinister grin that displayed a full set of sharp fangs and punched him in the stomach.

With a growl, Vega launched his body back against the men holding him, brought both of his legs up, and dropped a powerful scissor-kick into the chest of the one in front of him. He ripped one arm free and elbowed the batarian in the face, before taking out the other captor with a head-butt. He turned on the one who had led the assault – the batarian still on the ground struggling for breath. Angry and bloodied, Vega reached down and grabbed him by the throat. It was clear that he intended to kill him.

The asari girl who had been watching the brawl suddenly noticed a group of men approaching from the stairwell. They were human, dressed in the colours of the human Alliance military, and they were armed. The one at point was dark-skinned and tall, with close-cropped black hair mingled with grey. He was focused on Vega, and the asari saw him raise a pistol as he strode towards the fight.

A blast struck the wall just over Vega's shoulder. For a moment the asari thought he had been shot. He jerked back, releasing the batarian, and glanced back at the smoking hole in the wall that was the impact spot. Blood dripping down his face and one arm, Vega staggered into an upright position and faced the group of Alliance men.

'Enough!' barked the dark officer, sweeping his pistol in front of the violent rabble.

The batarians scrambled to escape, leaving behind a couple of dead bodies and a superficially wounded Vega. The young soldier stared at the blue-garbed entourage in confusion.

'Admiral Anderson?' he said, amazed.

'What in God's name do you think you're doing, Lieutenant?' demanded the Admiral. 'You dropped out for this? Drinking and brawling with the lowest scum on Omega?'

Vega blinked a droplet of blood away from his eye. 'I… Uh…' he fumbled. 'I don't understand, sir. What are you doing here?'

'I came looking for you,' replied Anderson. 'And you're a damn hard man to find, Mr Vega.'

The young soldier glanced between the men behind Admiral Anderson. They seemed like guards of some sort. He frowned deeply.

'Am I in trouble or something, sir?'

Anderson shook his head. 'I have an assignment for you. You weren't responding to Alliance comms, so I decided to come get you personally.'

'Sorry, Admiral,' said Vega, wiping a bloodied hand over his forehead. 'You came all this way for nothing. I'm not interested.'

The veteran stepped up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Dust yourself off and follow me,' he said. 'That's an order.'

The men fell in beside Vega and Anderson as they left the scene of the fight. Vega, still confused, kept looking around. Anderson led him towards the docking area, saying:

'You're a fine soldier, Vega. You've got real potential. I'm not going to let you waste it all just because of one bad experience.' He clapped him on the back. 'You did well on Fehl Prime, Lieutenant – why else would we have promoted you?'

Vega scowled at the ground as he walked, a darkness growing in his countenance. 'Beats me,' he said roughly. 'That mission went to hell.'

'I read the reports, Lieutenant. I know how difficult it was for you. I know that you lost a lot of people. But you did what you had to, and whether you like it or not, you're a vital part of the Alliance military. It's time for you to get over Fehl and be the soldier we expect of you.'

'No disrespect, Admiral, but I don't want to "get over it".'

They stepped out onto the docking bay and Anderson headed for a small Alliance frigate.

'I'm not leaving without you,' insisted Anderson. 'You're coming back to Earth with me right now.'

Vega stopped walking and held up a hand in protest. 'I'm not going back, sir. There's nothing for me there.'

'I selected you personally, Lieutenant. You're a soldier and I'm giving you an order.'

He shook his head slowly. 'Sorry, but you're gonna have to find someone else to do the assignment for you. I've done it all before, and I don't want to replay any of it.'

The Admiral continued to the frigate's docking station. 'I've got something for you,' he said. 'Something you haven't done before.'

'I'm not interested!' Vega snapped. 'You hear me? I'm out! So just throw me in the goddamned brig and be done with it!

Anderson activated the door of the airlock. Unruffled, he replied: 'You're not far off, actually. Only, you'll be guarding the brig.' He paused. 'One prisoner… in particular.'

The gangway came down. Anderson walked straight up into the ship, not even looking to see if Vega was following. The young Lieutenant glanced up at the vessel for the first time, his eyes focusing on the white letters painted across the hull.

NORMANDY SR2…