They were coming to kill her. They'd already killed her brother, and now they were coming to finish the job.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

They didn't know what they'd stumbled upon, not until they'd taken a closer look. And when they realized what they'd found, they tried to do the right thing.

They went to the authorities, tried to expose it all. Hackers they may have been, criminals to be sure; but what they'd found was so deep, so staggering in its depravity, that it'd awoken their long-dormant need to do their civic duty.

That was the first thing that'd gone wrong. They should've known it would paint a target on their backs. But they did it anyway.

It wasn't until her brother, her sweet Andrew, was bleeding out over her boots, and seeing the policeman they'd talked to holding the smoking gun had she realized what a mistake they'd made.

So she ran. But not far, and not for long, not when the ramifications hit her. The ones targeting her owned the police, had enough money to buy a legion of mercenaries and bounty hunters and arm them for war. A small-time hacker like her? She had no chance.

That's how she ended up in the den, a little hole in the wall place for people who wanted to escape the trials of life and experience bliss for a few hours. She'd paid for a cocktail of potent drugs, found a comfortable bag chair to slump in, and hoped that the hunters would catch up with her before she got sober.

The only consolation was that they wanted her dead, and the information buried. They wouldn't torture her, make her suffer or anything. They'd just kill her.

Through the haze in her mind, she heard the door opening, heard the echo of footfalls on the floor, and saw the trio of hunters who'd come to kill her.

A human, swarthy and kind of handsome in a roguish way with a smirk on his lips and a pistol in his hand stepped into her view, flanked on his right by a bare-faced turian holding a rifle, and an asari cradling a shotgun to his left.

It was ironic, she mused, that an alien she'd tried so hard to be like would be the one to kill her.

"Well, would you look at this," the human said, kneeling to peer into her glazed eyes. "No running, no chase, no last-second defiance, just calm acceptance. Seems almost a shame that a job this boring would be our last."

"Says you," the turian scoffed, "I've been waiting to retire for five years. The last thing I need is some action-filled chase."

"Ah come on, don't be so grumpy," the asari teased. "At least you two can relax until you die. For me, the money will get me a nice fifty-year vacation on some paradise planet. I can already hear the waves on the white beaches and feel the sand between my toes and the sun heating my naked body."

"Ooh, sounds lovely," the human grinned, giving the asari a wink. "Mind if I join you?"

"Only if you're naked too," she shot back.

"Can you two stop flirting for one minute?" the turian grumped, "Honestly, it's like you two are teenagers."

"Oh don't be that way, you're going to be naked right there with us." The human laughed, nudging the turian with his elbow.

They shared a chuckle, and she wondered if they were ever going to stop bantering and shoot her already.

"But first, let's finish the job," the human leveled his pistol at her head, the grin still on his face. "Sorry about this, girl, but it's just business. And hey, what better way to go than blissed out of your mind?"

There was a loud, crackling hiss as a glowing blue blade erupted from the center of his chest, the pistol dropping from his nerveless fingers as the trio stared in horror. "No!" The asari cried as a shadow stepped out from behind him, lunging forward to wrap an arm around her throat, pull her around and fire her shotgun into the turian in one smooth motion. Even as the turian hit the ground, the shadow reached up and snapped her neck cleanly, carelessly dropping the body to the floor.

"Sorry to cut it so close," the shadow said conversationally, the deep, abyssal voice reverberating inside her head. He reached out and pulled the lightsaber down and out, ignoring the thump of the corpse as it hit the ground, deactivating his sword and storing it away as he came to kneel by her head. "There were others coming for you, and I didn't want any interruptions while we had our chat."

"Whudd chaadd?" She slurred through a mouth that felt like it'd been replaced with dry marshmallow.

He uncapped a water bottle and brought it to her mouth, feeding her a gentle stream of cool liquid. "Our chat about your intentions with this information you found," he replied, pulling the bottle away. "Now, I don't know what it is, but I know it's important to a lot of people. The price on your head could buy a space yacht, and laying out that kind of cash for a simple hacker implies that it could damage a lot of reputations. And yet, you're here, blissed out of your mind in a drug den."

"Tried to," she muttered, blinking slowly, "We tried to show it to…to the authorities. They killed my brother. Didn't see…didn't see any point in trying. After that. Couldn't trust anyone."

The shadow hummed. "That's a good reason," he admitted with a nod, "But tell me, what if there was someone you could trust? Someone who could protect you, but also use that information to bring justice to the people who killed your brother?"

She scoffed lowly. "Like who…you? You're just here…to kill me."

"If I was here to get the price on your head, I would've killed you already," he replied reasonably. "I would've waited until you fell asleep or messed with that drug jamboree so you died unaware. Obviously, I didn't. And I have no intention of killing an innocent woman caught up in something she wants no part of. And you haven't answered my question."

She felt her mind clear slightly as she thought, the dull, lifeless eyes of her brother swimming in front of her vision. "If there was a person like that," she said slowly, her eyes rising to meet the glowing blue slits on his visor, "Then I'd say no. I don't want justice." Her visage twisted as she scowled, her eyes practically burning with rage. "I want vengeance. I want them to suffer for what they did to us."

"I can do that," he said simply. She could feel the smirk in his words as he spoke. "One could say I specialize in killing."

She slumped back into her chair. "Anyone would say that," she mumbled, sighing deeply. "I don't even know who you are."

"The name's Saul. Saul Dewitt," he greeted, nodding at her.

Something began to burn in her chest, the haze fading even further. "Wait," she gasped breathlessly. "Saul Dewitt? That Saul Dewitt? From the Normandy? The Reapers?"

"Yep," he said casually.

"Wait," she paused, narrowing her gaze on him. "Saul Dewitt's dead. Everybody knows that."

"My body doesn't," he replied, a hint of bitterness in his electronically deepened voice. "I take it you watched The Dewitt Files?" At her nod, he continued, drawing a weapon from his thigh. "Then you should know the significance of this."

She peered at the gun held in front of her, squinting in the low light until she could make out the fancy carved letters engraved along the barrel. Invictus. Her eyes widened, flicking up to look at his visor. "You really are him," she breathed, finally identifying the feeling in her chest. Hope. "But…how?"

"Turns out, I'm a lot harder to kill than even I assumed," he said, holstering the weapon. "You know who I am, what I'm capable of. Still think you can't trust me?"

She huffed a quiet chuckle. "Well, I'm fairly attractive, so I can trust that much," she murmured, looking up at him interestedly. "I don't know. I've only seen those videos, I don't actually know who you are for real. But…I think you're my best chance."

Saul stood up, towering over her slumped form, blue slits glaring down at her with the light shining from behind his head. Slowly, he held a hand out. "Then…come with me if you want to live. And get revenge."

"I do," she whispered, taking his hand. "By the way, my name…I'm called Omen."

…

"I know," I reply, hauling her up to her feet, throwing her arm over my shoulder as she stumbled on marshmallow knees. "I read the bounty on you. Speaking of, let's get you out of here before any others show up."

As we slowly step away, I hear a rustle from behind and one of my ARMs pops up, spin around and loose a shot. Turning back, I saw the turian I'd hit with the shotgun slump to the floor, a pistol slipping from his dead fingers. Nice reflexes, Jade. The door hisses open as we approach, the bodies of a few other bounty hunters scattered around the street.

Heading for an empty aircar, Omen stumbles and pulls herself out of my grasp, falling to her knees to puke her guts out. "Haven't seen many dead bodies, eh?" I ask, kneeling next to her with a hand on her back.

"Seen plenty," she gasps, spitting to the side. "I think…I think the mix I took isn't agreeing with me…"

"Taking a bunch of different drugs at once tends to do that," I say without righteousness or judgement. Everyone has their own ways of dealing with life and the shit we take and I'm no different, except for the fact that my ways involved sex and alcohol. Not that I hadn't dabbled a little when I had the money, but I don't like the way most drugs tend to cloud my mind. I also realize the hypocrisy in that while also saying I drink; but I don't drink to get drunk, I drink to get slightly buzzed.

And no, the episode with LSD doesn't count, I just wanted some gummy bears.

"I think I need a doctor…" Omen mutters, dry heaving.

"You'd trust a doctor on Omega?" I ask incredulously. "With a price on your head?"

She wipes her mouth, shakily standing up with my help. "Good point," she murmurs, leaning heavily on me.

"Don't worry about it, I'll get you somewhere safe then I'll go to a clinic and get you some meds," I reassure, handing her my water bottle. "You can keep that, by the way."

"Thanks," she says lowly, rinsing and spitting. "I'm gonna feel like shit in the morning." Helping her into the passenger seat of the sky-car, the hacker slumps against the cushion with a sigh, her head lolling back as her eyelids flutter.

Sliding into the driver's, I take us up and away from the den, joining a line of traffic headed for the center of Omega. "Saul," Jade whispers, a screen appearing in a lower corner of my HUD. "We're being followed. Looks like someone was being patient."

The screen shows a black aircar slowly following us and to be fair, it's not that conspicuous. On Omega, if an aircar's not black, it's red. "Alright, no need to let them know we're on to them," I mutter, looking over to check on Omen. She's passed out. Great. I hope it's just unconsciousness and not an OD. Reaching over, I press my fingers against her neck. "Jade, how's she doing?"

"She's asleep," my AI companion assures, "Though it'd be a good idea to purge her system, get her healing from all the damage she's done to herself."

"Will do," I sigh, taking the sky-car down and out of the lane, into another below. A few seconds later, the other car follows us, keeping two vehicles in between us at all times. "Here's what we'll do: take control of the car and fly us into an alley. I'll hop out and take care of our tail."

"Gotcha," Jade whispers, the console flickering green as she imposes her will on it. Smoothly, she guides the sky-car through traffic and into an alleyway just wide enough to fit it, cracking open the door after we enter and allowing me to jump out. Latching onto a pipe, I plant my feet against the metal wall and wait.

Sure enough, ten seconds later the following car enters the alley. Pushing off, I land on the back, igniting my lightsaber and driving the blade into one of the engines. The vehicle rocks, belching smoke as I draw a burning line to the other propulsor, leaping off as the car plummets to the ground far below.

I hear the crash a few seconds later. I don't know who was in that car of if they survived the drop, and I don't really care. Flying up to our sky-car, I slip inside and take a seat. Omen's still passed out, not that I expected any different, and our drive continues. "Saul," Jade begins, a smirk in her voice, "There's a tracker on this sky-car. I've disabled it, but I've got an idea for any else who tries to track us. I'm thinking Blood Pack territory."

"Ooh, I like it when play you dirty, Jade," I grin, fabricating a grenade and sticking it to the underside of my chair. "And when they come lookin', they'll get a little surprise."

"Also, I've finished simulations of our first-gen Cryo Sprayers. We don't have enough omni-gel stored away to begin modifying your launchers right now, so when we get to our new base of operations, you'll need to fire up the fabricator." She explains, setting us down gently outside of an abandoned, broken-down warehouse. "Speaking of…"

Stepping out and around the car, I lean in to slip my arms under her legs and her shoulders, hauling her out of the vehicle, her head lightly bouncing against my armored shoulder. "M'cold," she mutters sleepily, looping an arm around my neck. "M' too big…to carry…Drew…"

Balancing her in one arm, I reach out to depress a certain section of the rusty door which slides open, much more quietly and smoothly than its appearance would suggest. Stepping inside, the door closes behind us, the darkness closing around the pair of us. After a about a minute of standing there, I clear my throat. "Jade? Are you gonna open the door or what?"

"Are you sure you don't want to stand in the darkness a little longer?" she teases, the second door cracking open. The floors and the walls are a smooth grey, stretching out to cover about a square acre of space. Most of it is taken up by a few blocks of prefab housing, the same buildings you'd find in human colonies all across the galaxy. There's four apartments with a bedroom, a bathroom, living area and a kitchen, just in case this team I'm building gets a couple more people. Outside of the buildings is my workshop, or where I'm going to put it all once I unpack, with plenty of room for testing and modifying weapons and armor or my ship.

The rest is filled with boxes containing all my crap, plus food and omni-gel. "Welcome home, I guess," I mutter aloud, not sure if I'm saying that to myself, Jade, or the unconscious girl in my arms. Speaking of, I enter the closest apartment and set her down on the bed, tucking the blanket in around her before I step out and exit the building. "Keep an eye on her, please Jade?"

"Of course," she replies, going silent as I assemble a workbench and unpack a large fabricator. I remember hearing that the Intelligences on Orbit were working on something better, so I'll probably be upgrading in the near future. It'll do for now. "It'll only take an hour or so to make the modifications, so I'd recommend you stay out of trouble for the time being."

"Hey I don't go looking for trouble, except for all the times I did and will do so again in the future," I shot back, disengaging the gauntlets from my armor and setting them inside the fabricator. "In any case, I'm just going to a clinic…and also a parts shop, I want to see if they've got anything I'll need for my robot."

"Alright."

Taking the gauntlets from a spare hardsuit, I lock them in place as I head out of the door, stopping at a transit terminal to call a sky-car. The ride to the clinic isn't long, maybe ten minutes. The building itself isn't too bad, a little weathered around the edges but otherwise whole. The turian behind the counter sighs as I walk inside. "No, I don't sell red sand or anything like that; this is medical clinic for serious issues," he says, not looking up from his terminal.

Nice to know. "I'm not looking for drugs," I start, stepping up to the counter. "The opposite, actually. I need something to purge a drug cocktail from a person's system. A human woman, to be precise."

"That I can do," the turian, turning to the shelves behind him, rifling through the racks of vials and bottles. "What height and weight?"

"Five foot eleven, one-hundred ninety-eight pounds," Jade whispers, which I repeat to the doctor-wait, do you have to be a doctor to run a clinic? All the clinics I know of are run by doctors, but that might not be true on Omega. I should probably check that on the extranet or something.

"Here, this'll do the trick," he says, pausing as he turns back to look at me for the first time. Despite my intimidating look, he barely skips a beat before continuing. "It's an injection and I'll just assume you don't know how to use one of these, so all you need to do is press the opening against her shoulder and depress the button. After that, it's all up to her body to recover."

"Thanks, doc," I reply, taking the device and storing it away in a pouch. "How much?"

"Five thousand," he answers simply. "If you have any more medical needs, I'm always open. And I'm a nurse, not a doctor."

"All the same," I shrug, paying the man and exiting the establishment. In the distance, I can hear the pounding beats of that shitty music all the clubs play as I pass through a bazaar, occasionally glancing at the items on sale and the people selling them. A turian here, a batarian there, an elcor with cigar in its mouth flaps and isn't that just fuckin' hilarious, but nothing grabs my interest as I mosey towards Afterlife. I mean, I don't want to hang out in a noisy club, watching people drink things I can't drink, seeing writhing bodies I can't touch, but Aria wouldn't mind me sitting with her. Might even build my rep a bit.

Instead, I turn my feet towards a small hole-in-the-wall shop, a small sign proclaiming 'Kenn's Salvage.' Inside, I find a quarian, a guy by the look of him, with his back to the counter as he works on something at his bench, sparks flying as he welds what I assume is salvage. You know, given the sign. I wait a few minutes, leaning against the counter as he continues to work, but after a bit longer I clear my throat, which does nothing since he's welding isn't exactly quiet.

There's no chime, so I rap my knuckles sharply and call, "Ding-ding!" He jumps pretty high, spinning around to face me with a darkened visor. A short tap on his omni-tool removes the tint, letting me see the shining grey eyes behind.

"Oh, uh, please excuse me!" He stammers, nervously twiddling his fingers. "I uh, I didn't…hear you…"

"I can tell," I reply, unable to hide my amusement. "So, I had a couple of questions, if you have the time."

"Of course, of course!" He says quickly. "Um, what about?"

"I'm building a custom combat mech, which'll use long, medium and short range firearms, as well as knives, swords, axes and hammers and heavy weapons. The last thing I need for this mech are the points of articulation; shoulders, arms, fingers, hips, knees and ankles, and I've narrowed the model down to two: the TXK-2300 Alloy Joints and the 6Hb Articulates," I explain, noting that Kenn follows along with zero problems. "The TXK's are cheap and easy to replace, but breakdown fairly quickly, while the 6Hb are more expensive to buy and replace, and should last longer but tend to overheat and become brittle."

Kenn taps the light on his visor thoughtfully. "Also, both hold strict Fabrication Rights. You'd have to buy FRM licenses every time you'd need a replacement; that's why most buy mechs in bulk."

"Good point," I nod agreeably. I mean, it's not like Jade couldn't crack that stupid crap in a few seconds, but it's a good point. "So, custom joints with personal fabrication designs are the way to go, then? Maybe a meshing of the two designs for something better?"

"Mm-hm," the quarian shakes his head, "TXK uses a magnesium-steel alloy while 6Hb uses an iron-ceramic composite. Maybe…maybe the joints could be titanium coated in electrum, then suspended in the joints by an electromagnetic field? That would improve the flexibility and reactions times of the mech…"

"But it would also literally fall apart when hit with Disruptions Rounds, Overload or any kind of EMP," I cut, tapping my fingers against the counter. "And making the outer armor of the mech into mobile Faraday Cage would not only be prohibitively expensive, the weight would also make it completely useless for stealth."

"Maybe if…what if the joints were suspended in an electrostatic gel/omni-gel solution?" Kenn offered, pulling up his omni-tool to do the math. "Yes, perhaps…the gel itself would act as an insulator, as long as it's contained in a carbide-rubber nano-lattice casing-"

"-Like the ones used in prefab hydroponic gardens," I finish, nodding excitedly, "The omni-gel in the solution could be converted into artificial muscle fibers for more punching power in close combat, or into internal armor plating in an explosion! And the gel in the joints would also lighten the overall weight of the mech's frame and disperse the impact of footfalls through gel, so I could splurge a bit on the armaments or armor!"

"Or the gel could be repurposed to multiply the charge sent through, making the battery last even longer!" The quarian continues, nearly bouncing in place. "Oh! The joints could contain miniaturized friction dynamos inside the casing, so the mech could generate its own power simply by moving!"

"And if you add a secondary battery for the energy overflow, the mech would powered practically forever!" I add, rubbing my hands together gleefully. "And all the excess power after that could be diverted to an Element Zero core, lightening the weight even further-or an omni-tool with all the combat applications!"

"Exactly!" Kenn cheers, clapping his hands. Silence falls as we look at each other, nodding proudly in recognition of the other's nerd cred and capabilities.

"…So, you wanna draw up the fabrication designs?" I say after a minute of patting ourselves on the back.

The quarian perks up before slumping. "Ah, I…can't," he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, the other waving at the small, messy shop. "I can only use the flash-fabricator on my omni-tool, I don't have the room for anything large enough…or the money."

I tilt my head at him. "Why not?"

He jacks a thumb at the wall. "An elcor merchant, Harrot, runs this market and owns this building. The rent's through the roof, and I've had to raise my prices just to keep myself fed, let alone afford a decent fabricator."

"Hmm," I hum thoughtfully, rubbing my chin. "Let me ask you something: this thing we did, just now…that was fun, right?" He nods. "What if you could do that everyday? Push the limits of technology and your creativity, your ability?"

Kenn sighs, a hint of longing in his breath. "That does sound nice," he murmurs, scratching his cheek. "Why…are you asking?"

I lean forward on my elbows, my visor inches away from his. I can see my eye lights reflecting off of his mask.

"You wanna job?"

…

…

…

…

A/N: Expediency? Ha! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next part of the setup and the gathering of Saul's Bounty Hunting Team. Only one more to go.

And, introducing the new 'tech explanation,' which will appear every other chapter. The other chapters will have an excerpt from the Titan Information Archives.

The holo-screen in the corner of the bar darkened as the Crash Ball game went to commercial. When the picture returned, a tall mech dominated the screen, colored off-white and blue. "Good evening, I'm Doctor Samuel H-*krsshh*-" the screen fizzled out for a second, "-and I'm here to introduce you to a rising star in the fields technology. We are…Solaire Optimal Solutions, and we're here for you."

At the bar, a turian perked up and peered hazily at the screen, listening to the almost ridiculously deep voice of the cyborg.

"Today, I'm proud to announce a new line of Personal Propulsion Engines. Or," he chuckled deeply, "they're better known as 'Jetpacks.' Using miniaturized Element Zero cores and impulse engines, Jetpacks are capable of reaching up to a hundred thirty-five kilometers per hour. Easy to control, charge, and maintain, Jetpacks are an affordable alternative to sky-cars or public transportation. All models, from sports, performance and family come with inbuilt safety features for a smooth, comfortable ride, every ride."

The cyborg passed by a rack of jetpacks some large than others, some sleeker than others, and all in varying colors. "Jetpacks also come in all shapes and sizes, from the slimmest Salarian to the burliest Krogan and in any color desirable. Come in to your local vehicle distribution center and get your Jetpack certification today. We'll be ready to increase your mobility and personal joy in an increasingly darker Galaxy."

The cyborg faced the camera straight on, a symbol covering the screen showing a hollow sun, the words 'Solaire Optimal Solutions' contained inside. "Solaire Optimal Solutions. Optimal Technology, for a Brighter Future."

And there you go. Hope you enjoyed, and a big thanks to NorthSouthGorem, Kurogane7 and Dareigh, and the boys and girls on Xbox! Why not give them all a look, eh? At least the ones who write, you know.

Stay Awesome.

~Soleneus

P.S.: Christ I'm inconsistent, but I've got a lot of free time in the next two weeks, so look forward to more updates or more likely, a story or two appearing out of nowhere.

Yeah, I know. I can't help it.

Also, guess what started playing when I was writing the nerd-off with Kenn? Red Hot Chili Peppers, the song 'Go Robot.'

…I think my laptop's sassing me.

Stay Awesome Some More.

~still Soleneus