Chapter 4: Station of Lost Souls

The door opened on Archer's new personal quarters and a grin spread across his face. This was the first time he had been on a ship this "small" and hadn't had to at least share a room with someone else. He had his own desk with a personal computer, his own king sized bed, a display case for…something, and even a personal shower! He quickly set about the task of stowing all his personal belongings and equipment in their appropriate areas. Then he saw something on the wall.

Upon closer investigation he found it to be a hole. An impact crater more accurately, from a mass-effect weapon.

Doe (which he thought was a funny name especially since her file listed her first name as "Jane"; as if she were an unknown dead body) had briefed him on who-or rather "what"-CABAL was. Steve seemed to ask the air "CABAL, why is there a bullet hole in this wall?"

The ships AI spoke from the desk console. "Your predecessor Lieutenant Commander Shores committed suicide by self-inflicted cranial gunshot through his temporal lobes. The detritus from the incident was cleaned as best as possible but the hole remains for lack of repairs."

"Ah. Um…thanks. I guess." Archer sighed.

"You are welcome. Any further inquiries may be addressed to me in a similar fashion." CABAL replied with a tone of something approaching an artificially construed form of happiness.

Well, this program is staffed with people with nothing to lose. It would be foolish to think that something like this would never happen. Steve thought to himself.

After he finished putting his belongings away he hopped into the chair by his personal console and spun around a few times.

Dizziness is a most unpleasant sensation. Stop that. Devisor emanated. And before you ask why this doesn't hurt anymore it's because I reworked your cerebral neurology so it wouldn't cause damage.

Fuck you, I wanna spin around in my chair! Archer mentally yelled back. Also, thanks for the head work.

He ceased his spinning shortly threafter and brought up his personal messages. It was mostly full of the usual bullshit. Messages of "Welcome to the Okinawa!", questions regarding rations, duty shift requests, and a few "so-and-so is picking on me" were the order of the day it seemed. He almost hit the "delete all" command when he noticed one with no sender name, no address, and about a thousand points of origin. He gave it a click…after deleting the others.

Postal-

I have taken the liberty of sending you a dossier on a certain person who may be of benefit to you and your operations. I believe you two may have worked together in the past.

-"Handler"

Steve downloaded the file and began to read it.

Oh yeah. He thought to himself. I certainly do know this guy. The question is whether or not I can convince him to sign on…

===/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\===

The space station near the Omega Mass Relay had always been a place of last resort. Beings out of money, out of options, refuge, time, faith…all seemed to find themselves in the galaxy's drain sieve called Omega Station.

Omega Station had nearly as many names as it had people. Names for this place ran the gamut with titles such as "The Last Place", "The End", "Final Resting", and countless others among the species of the galaxy. Yet all names came to the same conclusion: this was the end. This was the last place many ended up going to for a variety of desperate reasons. For many, this station would also serve as their unmarked grave for one reason or another.

Few things mattered here on Omega. Survival was the utmost among the populous. There were the usual disparate difference in wealth as those that "had" boasted about it and those without wept and begged in dark alleys, conducting shady dealings, and shelters hoping for the charity of someone or something more fortunate. For a disgusting majority any sort of dream devolved to a sort of nightmare of perpetual need. The needs for shelter, food, and companionship were frequently unmet when the desire for such things was not utterly exploited.

This was the realm of a man known as Aaron Ward. The station had been his base of operations since after the Reaper War. While he had an apartment there that he shared-or at least thought he still technically shared-with another person in Aria's employ; he had always considered his stolen Thunderbolt Mk. II fighter as home. The long range and endurance class of "scout fighter" provided for nearly all his needs for weeks on end.

While officially free-lance; he had a sort of flexible contract with Aria T'Loak. He could take any job he wanted (which all but exclusively courier missions for people or items of questionable legal nature) as long as they did not interfere with her operations; and that any job she needed him for had priority over any others. While normally this might have been an issue to Ward, working for her had too many benefits. Chief among them usually was a reliable source of parts for his spacecraft.

The incoming communication light began blinking its bright blue at him nearly as soon as he cleared the mass relay and with a deep sigh he tapped the open channel command into his haptic interface console. He was going to have to check his ship for another hidden transceiver from Aria. He understood her desire to know where he was or at least when he'd return; but it was far too great a security risk.

"Yeah, what is it?" he spoke to the other end.

"Aria wants to speak with you Mr. Ward. You are to proceed directly to Afterlife. A landing space is being cleared for you now. Control out." And with that the line was terminated.

Crap. He thought to himself. Normally she at least lets me have a shower before talking to me. Maybe she's pissed or something.

He parked the fighter in an aerocar spot and activated the security systems. The large Krogan bouncer at the door waved him through the door. He walked past the various strippers and bar while pushing his way through the crowd. Aria's bodyguard Bray met him at the base of the stairs and while by Batarian standards he was not exactly big, his presence kept a sort of "zone of denial" there.

Bray brought up his omnitool and scanned Aaron for diseases and weapons while also giving him a thorough visual inspection. "I know the blade stays with you, but you know the drill-I need the sidearm." The Vanguard removed his M-358 Talon heavy pistol from its concealed holster and handed it to the Batarian. Weapon now in hand he yelled at the nearest bartender and pointed at Ward. The barkeep waved back and began to prepare a drink for another customer. "Head on up."

"What did I do to piss her off?" Aaron Ward asked. "Shit when down perfectly. To the fucking letter even."

Bray slapped him gently on the shoulder. "If she is pissed it's not at you. Don't worry."

Aaron took the steps up to her private room that was essentially Omega's capital. The nearly deafening noise of the dance floor waned to a heavy murmur but the flashes of light still stabbed into the large club room like daggers in a haze.

Aria's face was illuminated by these flashes of the pageantry below. She sat against the wall, her arms on the top of the couch…her couch; her throne even one could fairly state. Aria's blue face seemed to be in a sort of permanent scowl and Aaron could not help but wonder if she knew how to play Earth Poker. She had the perfect face for it.

He stood in front of her; still tense and slightly on edge. "You summoned ma'am?"

She waved at a lounge chair a few feet from her throne with a dismissive gesture. As he took his seat a scantily clad Asari came up next to him with a tray with a single container which he took eagerly after removing his helmet.

"There is a potentially serious problem I might need to have you deal with." Aria said without looking at him.

The container opened with a hiss and the aroma of Dr. Pepper soda arose from it. After a long pull of the beverage he answered her. "What sort of problem?" he said as he waved the waitress off.

"You no doubt remember our 'resident' privateer ship; the Okinawa? She's on her way back here to Omega if rumor is to be believed. It's a rumor with a very strong body of evidence." Aria said; her scowl never lightening. "She also has a new commanding officer, though he seems to be mostly a ghost."

Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Pfft. A ghost? I have a hard time believing that you of all beings can't find out who it is. What about asking the Shadow Broker?"

She finally turned her head to him and her expression softened a bit. "I'd be flattered by your confidence in my abilities if I weren't even more frustrated and surprised by it myself. Also this issue isn't big enough to warrant the Broker's costs.

"He's a virtual ghost. All I could find was his sex and species: human male. No age, profession, history, banking records, nothing shows up. That's why I might need you to…deal with him.

"That's why I needed to talk you. The ship is estimated to be here within two days and you need to be ready. Your payment has been transferred to your preferred account and your case of that soda you love so much is ready to be picked up by your ship." She finished and gave another dismissive gesture toward the exit.

===/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\===

Ward opened the door to his sparsely decorated apartment. A few posters and holo-images adorned the wall as well as Aaron's bladed weapons collection; but not much else. The room may have been best described generously as Spartan. After filling the fridge with the cola and grabbing some ramen, he divested himself from his armor and put his feet up on the table to watch the local sector news while he ate his snack.

"Another passenger ship has disappeared this week, presumably to slaver action." The almost disturbingly calm Batarian newscaster stated. "This marks the eighth vessel in three months that has been lost and attributed to slaver action. The question arises from many as to what the sector authorities plan to do, if anything; about this growing problem."

Aria has bigger issues on her plate. Aaron thought in reflection. He was privy to more than just casual information because of his position in Aria's hierarchy. The Eezo shipments are coming under even more frequent attack and since those are the stations and the sectors economic lifeline they have priority. Her corporate defense fleet is far too small to even cover the majority of the shipments and that situation isn't going to get better since losses to piracy are beginning to overcome procurement. Something doesn't happen soon we may find ourselves outgunned.

"In science news; recent breakthroughs in neuroscience and quantum-scale electronics have allowed Salarian scientists to posit the theory of a truly artificial brain with its own mind." The reporter continued as he forged ahead with his list of headlines. "The Citadel Council has already passed an injunction against their research, saying that the threat of misuse and abuse is too high."

Now that is some crazy shit right there. Aaron pondered before killing the video feed.

He let out a deep sigh and looked over to the sealed door of former flat mate's room. At least he thought former. He hadn't seen the guy in a few years, but the utilities were still being paid in full every cycle. He'd tried to get in there but the keypad used some crazy level of encryption and was hardened against tampering. The door was also somehow actively jammed scanning and was plated in silaris type armoring meaning he couldn't even get a hint of what lay beyond by anything less than capitol ship level weapons.

"Fuck you door!" He yelled as he threw the empty ramen cup at it. "I'll figure you out someday!"

===/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\===

The Okinawa dropped out of the mass relay two days later almost to the minute. The Omega Station Defense Flotilla surrounded the ship with weapons at the ready.

"Holy shit, Aria musta been serious about her threat to have us slagged if we came back." Burns commented before she hailed Archer. "You better have a damn plan sir."

The response was pretty quick in coming and had the noises of the cargo bay in the back ground. "Chill, Sam-I got this." Steve told the ensign. "Also, get Alpha Team together in the bay and I need you to fly the shuttle."

She was taken aback by request. The ships pilot fly a shuttle? "Why? Can't you fly it? Or maybe get one of the Geth to do it?"

"Sam, I don't even have a driver's license." Archer replied back. "Besides: the ship isn't going anywhere and I think you'll enjoy where we're going anyway. Contact Traffic Control if they aren't already harassing us and tell them that we're just sending a shuttle to discuss things with Aria. If they don't allow it tell them 'Aria's Bowman has returned'."

Burns did as she was told and the predictable response came back of essentially "fuck off and die"…until she gave them Archer's "code phrase". There was a few minutes delay and then another transmission came through. "A fighter is being readied to escort your shuttle with orders to destroy you if you deviate from your flight path. Control out."

A few minutes later Sam climbed into the Janissary shuttle to see Archer in his black and red-striped Ajax armor; helmet on with the reflective visor in place. As she started the departure sequence she turned to look at who Stephen had selected for his Alpha Team. Chief "Jade" Doe in her Phantom Mk. II armor (who creeped her out since she seemed to lack emotions), Karth (who was probably tech-support), Platform 7 in "Geth Grey" with a white numeral "7" stenciled on the chest, and of course Archer.

As the shuttle slid out of the bay Archer began his briefing. "Here's the shindig peeps.

"I'm not expecting anything combat wise but we have to plan for it. When we get there we'll be searched and have our weapons taken-most of our weapons at least. Jade will still have her blades, 7 and Karth will be able to hack-I hope, and I have a something of a holdout weapon.

"The bottom line is to be polite people. In my experience Aria detests disrespect and as such I will do the talking. Follow my queue and we should be peachy keen."

Jane's voice was the first to arise. "What do you mean by 'Your experience', sir?"

"It's a story that is of no importance to you; chief. At least for now." He snapped back. "If all goes according to some semblance of my 'plan' y'all should at least be able to cruise away from this. Now shut up and let me do the talking from here."

===/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\===

The armed detail that "greeted" them at the pad was less than friendly. In fact it would have seemed that none of the literally dozen or so goons had any sort of understanding of the word "friendly". There was one individual that Archer noted who stayed in the shadows and out of direct sight of most people. Archer recognized the man, though he let nothing of his knowledge show.

A series of escorts, scans, and rough physical searches finally saw them into the Afterlife club interior that represented the Omega Sector's seat of power.

Bray stood next to an obviously much younger Batarian. Bray's recognition of Archer's armor would have been undetectable to all but the Batarian's most familiar circles; a barely faint lift in one of his four eyebrows. He'd been doing this job long enough to know some of the tricks humans could come up with.

Stephen stood within scanning ranged of the "noob" guard. Dutifully and with a sigh of almost fatal boredom the young Batarian scanned Archer's team. He dutifully told Bray who had weapons; which Archer's team readily turned in. After a second scan the youngling stated that they were clear of weapons and waved them up. As they walked up the stairs to Aria's throne Bray gave Stephen a wink of his left upper-he knew almost exactly what was on Stephen's mind.

Bray and the younger Batarian followed Archer and his team up the stairs, the younger of the pair with his assault rifle drawn. Archer stopped at the top of the stairs and stood at parade rest with his hand resting on the butt of his revolver.

Aria stood in front of the team with her arms crossed and a look of extreme skepticism on her face. "If you're not who you say you are, I'm going to find out who you are and what you know then blow you out the airlock and scrap your ship. Start fucking talking!" It was just then that Bray's assistant finally noticed Archer's magnum and reached for it.

Archer's right leg shot out and impacted the Batarian's leg a few inches below the knee with a wet crunch. As this happened he drew the gun and jammed the muzzle into the mouth of the inept guard. Doe reacted flawlessly as her wrist blades extended and she held them at the throats of the two guards nearest her as the rest of the guards saw their weapons overheat.

"I'm going to ask you a series of simple questions. Yes or no answers only-a nod for yes and a shake for no." Archer said. "This is a revolver. Humans developed this type of weapon several hundred years ago. They don't use a mass effect field and therefore don't show up on scans. Do you understand?"

A quick nod.

"Good. You know what else doesn't show up? Blades. Like hers and his." He followed with a gesture toward Doe and a blackened corner where Ward walked out of; hand on his sword. "Depending on how things turn out in the next few questions; that's a lesson you might be able to walk-scratch that; I mean be carried off. I forgot about the leg. Anyway, you might be able to use the info later.

"Alrighty then, here's the next question.

"Do you know who I am?" The young Batarian shook his head in reply. "I'm a very dangerous person. Next question. Do you have a family? Wife, kids, close partners?" Another shake of the head to answer in the negative. "Ah, that's sad."

The more experienced and familiar guards had shouldered their weapons, as this standoff had revealed to them who this seemingly crazy human was. Doe didn't lower her blades though as she was still uncertain about the situation. She stole a glance at Aria who was…smiling?

"Now a lot hinges on your answer to my final question." Archer told his prisoner as he angled the revolver in a way that put the muzzle pointed at the brain stem. "Have you ever been a slaver?"

The Batarian delayed his reply. The kid looked at Bray with eyes the size of dinner plates with fear. Bray simply looked at him with crossed arms. A seeming eternity passed as he silently begged Bray to save him.

This situation has the potential to lead to our mutual destruction, Archer. Devisor warned. Archer promptly ignored the advice.

The Batarian finally gave his answer; a yes.

"Wrong answer bucko." Archer snarled and pulled the hammer back.

"Archer stop!" Steve's head snapped back to the Asari matron. "You'll put a hole in my couch, make a damn mess of this room, and Batarian blood stains horribly.

"Bray-get him to the clinic. Also he's fired effective now." She waved at the released and extremely shaken being. "That was pretty fucking ballsy of you Archer; still living the call sign obviously. What do brings you back to Omega?"

"Ma'am." Stephen said as he popped the seals on his helmet and removed it. "I heard my predecessor pissed you off something fierce. I hope to amend that." He hung the helmet on his left hip and returned to his previous stance.

"You're team can go. I don't know them and I don't want them here." Aria ordered.

"Head back to the shuttle. I'll contact you with the results. I got this." Stephen told them. It was apparent in the body language of the biological members that this was not sitting well with them. Once they were sufficiently distance from him he turned back to Aria. "I wish to negotiate terms of allowing the Okinawa to reestablish here as well as a steady intel stream."

Aria raised a tattooed eyebrow. "Oh?" She said with a snicker. "What do you have to offer me?"

Archer took a seat opposite her and put his hands behind his head to support it. "I have a really fancy ship, a decent crew, skills, and a set of gonads that would make even the boldest of Krogan jealous. You have feelers, resources to protect, and enemies.

"In exchange for the info my mission and purpose require, I can help you with…'sensitive' issues throughout the sector. The only caveats are that we won't interfere with Citadel affairs as that's a varren I'd care not to fuck with and that my handlers' missions have priority."

Aria leaned forward and rested her chin on her interlaced fingers. "Your 'handler'?" She said with a taint of incredulity.

"My freedom from Alliance service came with a price." Archer sighed. "Now…shall we discuss details?"

===/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\===

Samantha Burns looked around her as if she was in Mecca. The bass of the music, the lights, countless bodies danced covered in sweat, the miasma of the air; it all went through her head like an orgy of her senses. She couldn't believe she was there in Afterlife, a hub of the club and electronic music scene. She ordered a stiff drink and sat at a table to absorb everything.

The CO before Archer had a strict policy of never granting shore leave whenever they docked at Omega. Moral had generally sucked ass under LCDR Shores since everyone aboard was always essentially confined to quarters. One could only play so many hands of cards, chess, or tidily-winks before people broke out the razors to break the numbness of it all; and many of the crew had literally played tic-tac-toe on themselves and each other…and she remorsefully counted herself among them.

Archer as the CO held the promise of at least something best described as "different". He was a "lead from the front" sort of CO, whose reputation for unpredictability and seeming insanity all but guaranteed that-at least when it came to privateering-there would hardly be a dull moment. After thinking of the potential for getting out and about, Burns found that she enjoyed his lack of a driver's license; it meant she had a an authorized reason to leave the ship!

She smiled as she took her first sip. The liquid burned like a slug of pleasantly molten glass as it slid down her esophagus, leaving a deep and warm feeling in its wake. Doe, Karth, and 7 took a seat with her.

Doe scowled at her. "You are drunk."

"Pfft. Not nearly!" She looked at her oddly cloudy drink before continuing. "This place is a hub of modern music! Tiesto 12.5! Enraged Against the Consensus! Thermal Clips and Flora! Mister E! Oh by all the deities in the cosmos, I would give literally everything I was and am for a live Mister E show!"

Doe's helmet hid the disapproving scowl she was giving her pilot. "It was your duty to fly us back to our vessel. Are you still capable of doing that?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just having the one drink." Burns moaned. "You should ease off a bit Chief. Take a moment and relax."

Jane cocked her head quizzically. "I will not 'relax'; especially here where there are too many potential angles of attack and ambush. What gives you this confidence in our situation?"

Sam took another pull from her drink and slid the tall glass toward Jane Doe. "What gives me confidence? For the first time in two years our CO isn't a total fuckup, idiot, or suicidal moron. Major Archer knows what he's doing even if he has no real naval experience. He's also connected to this place. He obviously knew that senior Batarian bodyguard-yeah I was watching y'all."

Doe's head jerked back a bit in surprise. "How could you see that given the distance? I didn't notice the Batarians facial expressions and I was far closer than you were."

Sam smiled and pushed the drink a little closer to Doe with her index finger. "To coin an ancient Earth phrase 'I once was blind; but now I see'." The smile faded quickly as though a sour memory had resurfaced. Sam looked Jane straight in the faceplate and said; "At least pop the seal and take a small drink. I think we'll be waiting here for a while anyway."

Karth had already taken the time to grab a stiff drink; a dextro-amino acid safe version of the Earth classic "Jack and Coke". He was a bit put off at first by the strong sour taste of the "Dextro-Jack", but the Coke helped mellow it out a bit. Thank the ancestors for induction ports. He thought to himself.

He dumped himself into the chair next to Burns and visibly relaxed. He carefully balanced the sterilized sealed container on his chest as he slumped back like a dead body in the seat. He took another sip and openly said "Crazy humans might be onto something with their dextro-safe booze. We might want to see if we can at least get some of the soda for the ship."

7 raised an equivalent of an eyebrow. "Curious. The crew has the potential to starve to death; and yet you still desire recreational beverages?"

"Thanks, Mister Buzz Killington." Samantha sighed as she returned from her lean across the table.

A slurping burble emanated from the now drained container on Karth's chest. "Buzz kill or not he has a point. I hope Archer can at least get us some food supplies. Even I'm getting sick of sucking down nutrient paste tubes. I can't imagine what the Turian crew members think since they're used to a solid diet."

"Several members of the crew have noted that the latrine spaces have required more intensive and frequent cleaning since the Turian crew members we forced to shift to the emergency nutrient rations." Burns looked at 7 with disgust. "We have made it a…'habit' of listening to the crews non-mission specific conversations. This topic was first noted two months, eleven days, and-"

"We get it! Folks have had the shits for a while." Sam barked at the AI. "We don't need that much detail. Actually, now that you mention it even the female latrine has been getting nasty pretty quick too." She shuddered in disgust. "Oh my fucking god; why are we having this discussion in a dance club!? What the fuck is wrong with us?!"

Jane carefully placed her helmet on the table. "I think it comes with the job." She glanced around. Sam was obviously interested in the thought while she could see a raised eyebrow through the tinted visor of his envirosuit. 7 was being Geth.

"We have no real contact with anyone or anything outside the Okinawa. Lieutenant Commander Shores was an asshole who never let us off the boat; and our mission demands we stay off the grid. Given that sort of environment little things become important. We all know each other's business; save for the new guys…but they'll get there at some point if this continues." She took the glass Burns had previously offered and tipped a toast to the other woman before downing the remainder of its contents. "To be succinct about the overall status of the crew we have 'cabin fever'. With no knowledge of the galaxy outside the ship we have begun to focus on the galaxy within the ship."

Karth snickered as he disconnected his beverage container. "Now I finally have an explanation for all the masturbation jokes regarding Petty Officer Granger. Ha! Poor bastard…" He stood and turned to the rest of the seated team. "I'm going for a reload. Anyone else want one?"

Jane lifted the freshly emptied glass. "Two more of these for us." Sam raised her eyebrows in surprise to which Jane leaned in and told her "Like you said: we're probably going to be a while. Besides, there's always a back alley to pass out in."

===/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\===

A little over an hour of negotiations saw Aria and Archer coming close to reaching an agreement. The terms and scope of the jobs the Okinawa would undertake for her benefit were quite a bit larger than he had hoped for but were also mutually limited compared to her hoped outcome. There were some other details to work out however.

Aria glanced at Ward. "I'm reluctant to give you Aaron. His skills have proven themselves invaluable since you left."

"Oh for fucks sake, Aria!" Stephen half yelled at her. "First off: he's not being 'given' since he's not a slave! Second is that he's still going to be working for your benefit and mine!" He looked Aaron in the eyes and said to Aria; "It's a 'win-win' kind of scenario. Transferring Ward to my command gives both of us great benefit."

If looks could kill; the dark glare Aaron was giving Stephen would have been enough to vaporize a Reaper.

There was an uncomfortable pause from Aria. Both Stephen and Aaron knew this was due to her weighing the costs and benefits of her available options. Archer offered a cigarette to both Ward and T'Loak which was refused. "What do you think Aaron?" She asked.

"Before you answer that Ward, could I talk with you alone for a moment? Is one of the private rooms open?" Aaron asked after putting his cigarettes away. Something about the stasis had killed his nicotine cravings. He was already getting the "quitters cough".

Aria looked at Bray. "Clear The Patriarch's old room."

Once in "The Patriarchs" room Archer shut and sealed the door. He slumped into one of the well-worn corner couches and sighed. "You're not making this easy, man. I was really hoping it wouldn't come down to this."

Aaron leaned against the door and leered at Archer. "Is this the part where you start breaking fingers and break out the metal slivers? That was always my favorite part about working with you."

Archer reached into the drop pouch on his thigh and produced a datapad which he tossed on the table. Ward used a biotic pull field to launch it into his hands.

Aaron Ward scanned the table of contents quickly until he got to a certain part. He quickly expanded the section and read the details. "What the…?"

Steve leaned on the table from his seat. "I can assure you;" he said while pointing at the pad. "That everything on that pad is from some sort of C-Sec file." He saw a look of anger, disbelief, and perhaps a drop of the closest emotion Aaron had to fear on his face. "They know and not because of me. It's only a matter of time before they either make you disappear or find something they can make stick that will put you away till your dust in a backwater prison cell…and I think they're about to the point of forging evidence to do that.

"They have a filing cabinet worth of dirt on Aria too, though I don't have it with me. The only reason she gets a ride is that since she holds Omega and its eezo, she's important to them. Whereas you are…" Steve let the sentence trail off.

Aaron's response was almost void of emotion. "Expendable…"

"Exactly." Steve put the tips of his fingers together and angled them at Ward. "You are expendable to them. Not me. The question at the end of the day is whether or not you take my offer?"

"What can you do?" Ward said while sliding into a seat across from Archer.

"The powers that hold my leash will give you part of what they gave to me: a clean slate. Tabula Rasa." Archer explained. "When they determine that you have lived up to their end of the bargain you will reappear on the grid as a different person. Same face, same attitude, just as a new person that until that day will have never existed and a bank account fat enough to-they hope-retire someplace out of the way and stay there."

Aaron perked an eyebrow. "Part of what they gave you?"

"My details are not important now. But the matter of why I'm here is…" Archer stated as he stood up. He extended his right hand the Aaron with his palm slightly up; as if offering his past coworker help from some sort of precipice. "Yes…or no; Mr. Ward. I don't have the option of offering this again, though you know me well enough to know that if I could I would.

"What say you? Yes or no?"