One

"Commander Shepard,"

Miranda Lawson's impatient voice brought Commander Kaitlyn Shepard's attention back to the task at hand. She shook her head a little, running a hand over the top of her head, smoothing back her ponytail and dragging the end of it across her shoulder. She nodded to Miranda, allowing her to continue. Beside her, the Cerberus man; Shepard hadn't the memory to yet recall his name, shot her a sideways glance. Shepard made great effort not to react, his presence was borderline traumatic for her; he reminded her too much of something she'd rather forget.

"As I was saying, Commander, we have to begin assembling our team and I believe Omega is the best place to begin. We have three potential candidates there," she handed Shepard the board she was holding; the dossiers of the Omega prospects. It took Shepard a great strain to play along with this meeting; she flipped through the dossiers quickly and then over and over again even more quickly. Miranda yanked the board from her hand.

"The dossiers are for The Professor, The Veteran, and The Archangel," Miranda said, taking a deep breath afterward. It was often a struggle for her to keep her composure.

"So we've got a bookworm, and old man, and a reverend. All wonderful sounding teammates, let's get right on that," His name was Jacob. Shepard perked up a little; she'd remembered something without help. He was breathing heavy sarcasm, picking up the rifle he'd been interrupted cleaning and leaving the comm room.

"We'll be in Omega's orbit by tomorrow," Miranda said finally, gathering all of the things she'd brought in. She looked over to Shepard, stared at her awhile. Shepard just sat with her head down, looking at the ground and refusing to meet her gaze.

Mordin Solus, the Salarian scientist, had been of no difficulty for them to recruit. Miranda did all of the convincing, though after they saved his clinic and his partner from the vorcha, he hadn't needed much. And Zaeed Massani had practically waltzed aboard without any hesitation. This ship (Shepard guessed she could call it a Normandy) was beginning to feel full again. Shepard, however, still felt empty. Besides Joker and Dr. Chakwas, everyone here was a stranger. People she passed by saluted her, called her their Commander; but she did not know any of their names. They were faceless. Shepard spent all down time in her quarters, avoiding the nameless that haunted the ghostly halls. The Normandy, the real Normandy, had been destroyed two years ago by a Collector ship. Shepard had sacrificed her life to save her crew, or so she was told because she did not remember. One of the first things Shepard had done was to visit the crash site, where many had met their final resting place; where she had. To say it had been surreal would've been an understatement. To say it hadn't shaken her already fragile state of mind would be a lie.

She carefully shook her fiery curls from the tight ponytail she kept them in and laid back on her bed, letting the bluish glow of the aquarium in the wall wash over her hollow shell. The single fish floating between the panels in the big empty water might as well have been a mirror. Kaitlyn Shepard was lost. Alone. Forgotten. No, not forgotten. She had forgotten them. And they thought she was dead. For all she knew, they might be too. She sighed deeply, and the intake became a yawn. Sleep and soon after nightmares were surely to overtake her. In her final conscious moments, she wished that something, anything, would anchor her to this ship; to this life; before she was consumed.

The Archangel was holed up; fighting three bands of mercenaries he'd managed to piss off, royally. Well, Shepard thought to herself as they landed on the planet's sham of a docking bay, they can't all be easy.
She was the first to hop off the shuttle, surveying Omega. Even a day after she'd just been here, the place already looked significantly worse for the wear. Behind her, Jacob and Zaeed stepped off; Shepard figured they were no more familiar to her than anyone else and Zaeed had been incredibly anxious to 'get back out and start killing'. They approached the shuttle they were scheduled to take to the place these gangs had Archangel cornered. Zaeed had convinced the mercenary recruiters that they were going to be vital to the cause, and it looked like the news hadn't reached their shuttle driver.

"You three are the ones I'm waiting for?" The Turian exclaimed as they approached. Shepard froze as though a Thresher Maw had popped up from the ground in front of them. She wished she was invisible, not to be acknowledged or doubted by strangers. It was hard enough for her to acknowledge herself. Zaeed stepped up, and shoved the Turian with a forearm against his shuttle.

"You are a member of the Blue Suns, eh, kid?" he said calmly. The Turian nodded, looking a bit fearful. Jacob stepped up, pulling a pistol.

"Your little gang wouldn't exist if I hadn't shed blood for it, you scaly bastard. And when we bring the Archangel's head on a sliver platter to your idiot boss, you'll eat your words and maybe some bullets too," Zaeed let him go, and dusted off the Turian's armor.

"Now, son, let's get moving. I ain't got all day."

They walked into a scene that would've turned a lesser man's stomach like a washing machine. Bodies of dead mercenaries lined the walls and the dying lined up in cots across the expanse of entire rooms. All the dead, Jacob had observed, had been the victims of clean shots in-between the eyes. It had been simple for Zaeed to sweet-talk them into the line-up for the next wave, mostly because volunteers were hard to come by; it was easy to see why. The one visible entrance to the two-story hideout was an extremely well-lit and sparsely covered bridge and the second-story housed a ledge perfect for picking off anyone who attempted to cross it. The small group of mercenaries pooled around the cover leading to the bridge resembled lambs awaiting a slaughter. The goal was to arrive on the other side with as few of them alive as possible, and attempt to blend in with the cause as much as possible.

"He's got no defense if you can get inside, so get inside," the mercenaries' commander was finishing up a pep-talk when they arrived. No amount of encouragement is going to extend the lives of these people, Shepard thought as she loaded her pistol. If Archangel didn't kill them, she would.

A fierce -swish- echoed through Shepard's eardrums as she ran, and a bullet pierced the helmet and skull of the mercenary behind her. This was a thrill, being on the field. It was the only place Shepard was sure of herself, the only place she was allowed to act like she had nothing to lose. She thought she'd be picking off anyone who got too close, but Archangel was even better than she'd thought. Another bullet brushed by her, and nearly hit Jacob. By the time they reached the ground floor of the fortress, every single mercenary was dead and Jacob was muttering about getting revenge for nearly being shot. She shook them off, eager to keep moving. She ascended the stairs that led to the Archangel's post, and saw no one at the top. Shepard could feel the sight trained on her cover, waiting for her to start shooting. So she did what he wouldn't expect. She holstered her gun and stepped out into the open. So what if he shot her? It wasn't like she'd never died before.

"Shepard, what're you doing? Get back here!" Jacob shouted, catching the red dot being trained on her. It disappeared.

"Shepard?"