Mass Effect 2: Desperation

by Alan J. Worthington

Humanity is threatened, and Commander Shepard is tasked with saving his species. He must find and recruit men and women skilled enough - and willing enough - to fight against suicidal odds. Though the galaxy is big, and such individuals are scarce, Shepard learns one thing: there will always be those willing to fight for the right cause, no matter which galaxy they may come from.

4. The Archangel

"Commander, we're approaching Omega. ETA, about ten minutes."

"Thanks, Joker," Shepard said as he pushed away from his computer, not surprised with the mess sergeant's first diagnostic of the escape pod they had brought in a week ago. Rupert's reports only confirmed that the pod wasn't of any design he had ever seen, and that it was too advanced for him to understand with his current tools. I wish Tali had come with us, Shepard thought to himself before standing and moving to his locker. Olinda hadn't been forthcoming with the design of her escape pod, and Shepard respected the Jedi's decision, but he was hoping some breakthrough might be made by studying the pod. Olinda's weapon and armor were of alien design but were more advanced than anything Shepard had ever seen. If his scientists could understand Olinda's technology, they could use it against the Collectors.

At once, he put that idea down. If they had reverse-engineered the technology, Cerberus might use it exclusively to further their own cause, and that wasn't an outcome Shepard wanted to see. He had even entertained the thought of jettisoning the pod out into space to prevent Cerberus from learning anything from it, but he was almost positive the organization had the means to retrieve it if they thought it valuable. Better to hold on to it for now. Perhaps Olinda would know what to do with it later.

He pulled on his armor and ran the startup diagnostics before grabbing his helmet and taking the elevator to the CIC. The two security soldiers snapped a crisp salute at Shepard as he walked out onto the deck, striding up to the galaxy map and changing the interface to show the ship's interior design. He spotted the four he wanted. "EDI, have Chief Taylor, Operative Lawson, Olinda Varr and T'Pira report to the conference room."

"Of course, Shepard." He waited a mere second and a half before EDI again replied, "Messages have been relayed. Operative Lawson, Ms. Varr and Ms. T'Pira are en route. Chief Taylor is logging his respective weapons out of the armory and will be along shortly."

Shepard nodded reflexively. "Good." He began making his way to the conference room, passing through the armory and seeing Jacob finish up logging his weapons. I probably could have told him myself, Shepard said as he nodded to Jacob before stepping through the hallway to the conference room. Bet that made me look lazy...He allowed himself some slack, given his current situation. Surrounded by absolute strangers, working with an organization I would rather dismantle, and on a suicide mission I may very well die on... He shook his head as he composed himself, hearing the door to the room hiss open and Miranda step through. Thankfully, Miranda either didn't see his moment of frustration or chose not to acknowledge it. She nodded at him in greeting. "Commander."

"Suit up. We're about five minutes out from Omega. Grab your whole payload and meet me back here for a briefing. I have to go over logistics for a moment."

Miranda nodded. "Of course." She turned and walked to the armory, disappearing through the doors, leaving Shepard to wait on the other two.

On a whim, Shepard called out to EDI. "EDI, can you patch into the Omega mainframe? See if you can get some data on our dossiers here?"

"Of course, Shepard." There was the usual short pause as the AI's matrices moved at faster-than-light speeds to accomplish his request. "I have acquired relevant data that will aide us in the acquisition of the two agents located here."

"Send it to me," he said, looking expectantly at the table's holographic interface. Moments later, the table's screen lit up with numerous tables and charts of data, with a table of contents listing the various subjects of interest to him, including last known locations of the targets, areas frequented, important associates and contacts, schedules, recent activites, etc. He studied the last known locations of both targets, as well as local persons of interest and the surrounding areas before hearing the door open. In stepped Olinda and T'Pira, the Jedi dressed in tan, loose-fitted clothing minus her robe, and T'Pira dressed in her military-esque uniform. He cocked an eyebrow. "We'll be setting down in a hostile environment. You girls will probably want to take your armor with you."

Olinda smiled. "Armor has its strengths, but Jedi have no need of it."

"Then why do you own a set?"

Olinda's smile grew. "It's mainly for exploring inhospitable terrain. A Jedi's movement is restricted with armor, and I am more efficient in combat with free range of movement."

Shepard thought about pressing the issue, but decided it wouldn't be worth it. Olinda was new to him, and he had no idea the extent of her capabilities. Perhaps it would be worth it to see what she was capable of without armor. He instead looked to T'Pira, who offered a similar, if less self-promoting, reason. "My combat abilities are astute. Armor only serves to hinder my reflexes and self-awareness. My armor would make me less efficient in combat than were I without it."

Shepard suppressed a sigh and nodded. "Suit yourself. Stop by the armory before we leave to grab yourselves a portable comm unit. Ask Jacob about them, and he'll set you up. We'll begin in a minute," he said, turning back to the charts. Though he studied the data with interest, he still noticed that, while Olinda seemed to have acclimated to her situation and was quite comfortable, T'Pira stood rigid, showing no curiosity or boredom. He had given her a few hours to study the galaxy in an attempt to catch up on current events, and was curious to see what she had discerned from the galactic archives. Moments later, both officers walked into the conference room, armed and armored. Shepard gave them a nod before beginning.

"Alright," he began as everyone stepped in and the door closed. "Two of the dossiers are located here on Omega. For those of you who don't know," he said, referencing the Jedi and T'Pira, "Omega is a haven for criminals, terrorists and malcontents for thousands of years. It was built into a mined-out husk of a metallic asteroid, and it has no central government or unifying authority. It's a major hub of narcotics, weapons, and eezo trafficking, and the place is crawling with every bit of slime you can think of." He brought up a holographic display of the structure, enlarging it for everyone to see. "I know you two are playing in the dark right now," he said, looking at Olinda and T'Pira, "but the only thing we all need to know is this: there are two people on Omega whose skills I want for this mission." He brought up the two relevant dossiers. "One is a biological weapons expert, Dr. Mordin Solus. The other is a mercenary commander noted for his tactical supremacy, known only as Archangel. Both are good, and if we want any chance of succeeding in our overall mission, we'll need them on the team."

"We're gonna be in enemy territory from the get-go, though. That's why I need everyone at their best." He straightened and looked at each in their eyes. "There will be people here that will want to kill us just to get what we have." He gave them a moment to consider that before he added. "Now comes the hard part: no killing if we can get away with it." He saw the Cerberus officers react, though both were trained enough that he couldn't get a read on their emotions. Olinda, on the other hand, looked quite pleased at the news. T'Pira was completely unreadable. "Granted, we'll likely encounter hostiles while we're there, but most will be civilians with desperation and greed at the top of their minds. I'm relying on your own discretion here." He gave them a pointed look. "You're better trained than anything down there. There should be no excuses for killing innocent civilians. If you truly feel your life is in danger, however, and the only solution is to kill the offender, I'll try to understand. Other than that, I don't want trouble. We're here looking for two individuals, and I think we're already going to be attracting attention. The less we're noticed, the better."

"Now, EDI has some information for us that will help us find the targets faster. EDI?"

"Thank you, Shepard." EDI's avatar sprang up at the front of the desk as she spoke. "There are reports of an ongoing quarantine in the slums where Dr. Mordin Solus runs a clinic. Inhabitants refer to a plague in the quarantined area. Monitoring of local radio channels suggest that this plague has a one hundred percent mortality rate and, of considerable note, doesn't affect humans."

"What kind of plague is it?" Miranda asked.

"Unknown. There is no specific data regarding the plague in Omega's mainframe. Dr. Solus's personal computer may hold relevant data, but it is heavily encrypted. To break through might invoke distrust. I can only suggest to anticipate resistance at the transport station. This plague has garnered the attention of what passes as the highest authority on the station, an asari named Aria T'Loak. She placed the quarantine into effect to prevent its transmission. No one is allowed in or out of the area without express permission from her."

"Beautiful," Shepard said. "And Mordin Solus is inside?"

"Correct. Radio channels claim he is administering medical assistance to locals unable to escape the quarantine." A notable pause. "I have also detected Blue Suns and Blood Pack activity within the quarantine zone. Since the beginning of the quarantine, the affected zone has become a battleground with both mercenary groups instigating a turf war against the other."

"So the quarantine zone is going to be bloody," Shepard reaffirmed. "One reason why we're going in hard and heavy." He looked to the others and was glad to see they were each carrying enough firepower to take out a whole platoon... At least, Miranda and Jacob were. Olinda had her lightsaber, though Shepard didn't know exactly how effective a close-ranged weapon would be in a firefight. The only thing Shepard noticed about T'Pira's firearm was that it was in the shape of a small pistol, and looked very plain. Compared to current weaponry, he had little doubt it was a poor excuse for a weapon. He broke from the briefing for a moment to address the two. "Say, Olinda. You think your lightsaber will cut it in a gun fight?"

Olinda merely nodded. "It will, Commander. Trust me."

Shepard merely nodded, not at all convinced, but letting it slide. Who knew? Maybe it shot energy beams. He turned to T'Pira. "And your pistol..." he gestured to it, and T'Pira arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a better gun? We have plenty in the armory."

No reaction whatsoever. "It will suffice."

Again, Shepard nodded. "Alright. Just so long as you're aware that we'll be walking in a warzone. You'd best be equipped. We have extra guns if either of you need them." Neither answered, and Shepard turned back to EDI. "Continue. Tell us what you've found on Archangel."

"Archangel arrived on Omega at an unknown place and time. From the beginning of his tenure, however, he has been crucial in dismantling many illegal activities on Omega. Over a period of one galactic year, Archangel recruited twelve operatives of significant talent and skill, and the team devastated mercenary activity throughout the station. Messages on encrypted channels suggest that the three dominant mercenary groups, Blood Pack, Blue Suns, and Eclipse, have recently established a truce until Archangel is dealt with. Of the thirteen vigilante operatives, only Archangel remains."

"What exactly did Archangel do to get that kind of attention?" Jacob asked.

"According to various reports, Archangel launched a war against all illegal activities, with the dominant mercenary groups as his main focus. Archangel disrupted cargo shipments of questionable materials, weapons, and slaves, dismantled racketeering rings throughout the station's casinos and clubs, and was responsible for several assassinations of top-ranking members of all three mercenary groups."

Shepard pursed his lips. "So...Is there anything you can see that might give us an edge in finding him alive?"

A pause. "There is a recruiting station in Afterlife that the mercenaries are using to hire freelancers. I have downloaded all recorded messages within the mercenary groups and, after decryption, have found evidence of a planned, unified attack. Until such a plan is put into effect, it is probable that they are consolidating resources by using these freelancers as disposable soldiers against Archangel."

Shepard nodded. "Alright. We'll hit Afterlife first, see what we can find out. Archangel sounds like he's in dire straits, and while I don't like the idea of leaving a salarian in a plague-infested zone that kills everything but humans, Mordin seems to be doing alright on his own. Any questions?"

"So we're going to the recruiting station to ask where Archangel is?" Jacob asked.

Shepard nodded. "That's what I just said, Jacob." Realizing he just sounded like an ass, he elaborated. "But we're not just going there to ask questions. We're going to hire ourselves out as freelancers." He saw that they were momentarily shocked. "It's possible the mercs might use us for their plan when they see us. I'll place a safe bet we're a tad more than most freelancers they've gotten. However we do it, when we're thrown against Archangel, we'll offer him a choice. Join up or fend for himself."

"You do realize that has us surrounded by enemies?" Miranda asked. "Once we make our intentions clear, all three mercenary groups will be vying for us as well as Archangel."

Shepard nodded, and was about to speak when T'Pira, surprisingly, spoke up. "As freelancers, we'll possess a window to gather information about the mercenaries' plan of attack, numbers, weapon and ammo reserves, and more. With this knowledge, our betrayal will be executed more swiftly, and with less danger."

Shepard nodded, smiling at T'Pira. "Right. We'll compensate. If worse comes to worst, we'll wing it. Improvisation is a must for N7s." He looked at the others. "Any more questions?"

T'Pira again spoke up. "Should Archangel prove hostile despite our proposal?"

Shepard had considered that option and, though it seemed extremely unlikely, he knew he had to prepare for it. "If we can, leave him. If he gives us no choice, waste him. Personally, I'd like to see that we at least get him to safety. Someone that can do that much damage to three of the most powerful mercenary teams in the Terminus is definitely someone I want brownie points with." He shrugged. "Again, that part we may have to wing. Above all else, make sure you're safe. You feel something isn't right, you do what is necessary. Understood?" All nodded. "Any more questions?" Silence. "Alright. Let's get it going, people." He grabbed his helmet from the table and put it on, sealing the armor from the outside atmosphere. He saw Miranda and Jacob don their helmets as well, with T'Pira and Olinda merely walking out, already prepared. The latter tightened her belt around her robes and pulled up her hood, lending an intimidating air to herself that Shepard was glad to have. It might keep the pickpockets and cutthroats off them.

The five stopped at the air lock, waiting as the chamber equalized interior pressure with the exterior atmosphere. As he waited, Shepard patched himself into Normandy's ship-wide radio. "Continue assigned duties, everyone. Until Operative Lawson, Chief Taylor, or I return, Mess Sergeant Rupert Gardner has the deck." He released the comm, content that the ex-Alliance soldier would know how to handle the ship. He had talked it over with the sergeant before, and the sergeant didn't seem sure of himself. Shepard liked him all the better for that. Put a man who's hungry for power into a position of authority, and you have problems.

The air lock opened, revealing a rusted-out hallway the color of copper. The few viewports were covered in grime and dust, and a vidposter was flashing on and off, close to its last days. There was clutter all around the air lock exterior, and Shepard had to step over debris as he made his way down the corridor. He noticed a sickly-looking salarian glance at them, and he readied himself as the salarian scuttled up to them, looking eager.

"Ah! Welcome to Omega!" the salarian said, spreading his arms in greeting. "You're new here, aren't you? I can tell. Allow me to -"

A heavy hand clapped the salarian on his shoulder, stopping the tirade and earning a squeak from the reptilian humanoid. The salarian turned to see a batarian staring at him with four angry eyes. "Leave, Fargut. Now."

Visibly terrified, the salarian nodded vigorously. "Of course, Moklan! Whatever she wants!" the salarian stammered as it rounded a corner and disappeared.

The batarian watched him go before turning to face the group, giving them a glare as he locked eyes. "Welcome to Omega," he said, eyeing the others. His eyes drifted to Shepard last. "...Shepard," he finished knowingly.

Shepard gave no indication that he was surprised, though he found it strange that a common thug would know he was alive. "You know who I am?"

The batarian scoffed. "Of course. We had you tagged the moment you entered the Terminus Systems." He shook his head condescendingly. "You're not as subtle as you think." Shepard maintained his silence, alert for anything amiss, and the batarian continued moments later. "Aria wants to know what brings a dead Spectre to Omega. I 'suggest' you go to Afterlife now and present yourself." Despite being outnumbered and outgunned, the batarian still managed to deliver his message with a seething hatred for the humans he saw in front of him.

Not wanting to cause a ruckus, Shepard nodded. He needed to see Aria about the quarantine anyway. "Then I suppose I should go pay her a visit."

The batarian nodded, obviously pleased. "Good thinking. They know to let you in. Just show your face, and you'll be escorted to her." His message delivered, the batarian nodded and left, leaving Shepard to contemplate Aria's desire to see him.

"He was obviously condescending," Olinda remarked as she fiddled with the comm unit in her ear.

Shepard shrugged as he continued walking. "And?"

"I find it remarkable you maintained civility." Shepard turned to see Olinda smiling at him, and he couldn't resist a small smile himself as he turned back to the path.

"You didn't think I could keep a cool head?"

Olinda's smile grew. "I said it was remarkable, not surprising. You don't seem to be the angry type."

Shepard shrugged again. "It wouldn't have helped me any to cause a confrontation."

"Not even make you feel better about the whole situation?" Olinda dared to prod.

Shepard shook his head. "If I gain satisfaction from hurting others, physically or mentally, what does that say about me?"

"A valid point," Olinda consented. "I'm beginning to like you already, John Shepard."

"I'm glad someone does," Shepard said with a smile to his face, the risks of the mission momentarily gone from his mind. As he neared Afterlife, however, they returned, and he began to take stock of his surroundings with the precision and care of an N7 soldier. The station here was the same as outside the air lock: messy, unmaintained, and uncared for. There was even more clutter around the streets, though they were pushed aside in some semblance of a walkway. Aliens of all types walked or moped around, and many of them were as bad as the streets, unwashed and uncaring, looking only for new prey to pick clean.

"Omega. What a pisshole," Miranda said, echoing everyone's thoughts. "At least it keeps you on your toes."

Shepard looked to her. "You trying to put a silver lining on this place?"

"Would that even work?" Olinda said, looking about at the station's disarray.

"I doubt it," Miranda said, shaking her head. "Thankfully, I've only been here once. Even then, I felt like a needed a shower - in addition to normal decontamination."

T'Pira seemed to agree, adding her own comments. "Even this far in the future, society exiles the sordid wretches to dilapidated hovels, condemned to live life coping with barely a crumb of food, much less the dignity deserving of every creature."

How right you are, Shepard thought to himself as he reviewed the scene before continuing toward the club. "C'mon. We're attracting attention." He noticed a few aliens look at them in interest as they walked in, and he suspected they looked new on the station, a dangerous way to portray themselves.

It seemed Afterlife had a limited population inside at any given time. A line had formed outside, with an elcor bouncer to prevent stragglers from wandering inside unwanted. A particularly vocal civilian was voicing his displeasure at being held up outside the doors.

"C'mon, let me in! Aria's expecting me!"

"Annoyed: If Aria were expecting you, you'd be inside," the elcor replied, and Shepard couldn't help but smile at the scene. The elcor's usual speech made the inflection of his voice sound truly annoyed, and his immense size prevented the man from going anywhere until allowed. He walked up to the elcor, past the line formed behind him, and took off his helmet.

"Shepard, here to see Aria."

Though he couldn't see the elcor's facial expression, he thought he could detect a faint trace of relief. "Politely: Go on through, human. Aria is expecting you."

"What? How come they can go in?" the man yelled as Shepard replaced his helmet and continued on. The batarian at the door gave him a once-over before allowing him through, and Shepard walked into a hallway that was a stark difference from where they just came from. Whereas outside it was cramped and cluttered, inside was clean and well-maintained. Vidposters were in working order, and holograms depicted projected fire, lending credence to the club's name in a dark hint. It was enough to take the commander's breath away. His surprise of his surroundings was suddenly interrupted by three batarians that crossed over to block their path, the middle alien glaring at them.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, the rhetorical question sounding incredibly stupid in Shepard's mind.

He audibly sighed. "Do you really want to do this?"

The other batarians were just as resolute beside their leader. The leader's glare intensified. "You scared or something?"

"Yeah," Shepard said. "For you." He pulled out his pistol and held it ready. He heard his two officers unholster their weapons as well, and though he didn't see it, he knew Olinda to be readying herself for combat. As for T'Pira, he saw her draw her pistol and click the safety off, where it began to whine. He found himself curious to see the weapon in action, but deemed this situation unworthy of combat. He silently hoped the batarian wouldn't insist on a fight.

At the sight of five, well-armed individuals in front of him, the lead batarian faltered. "Uh...well, it's good for you that I'm not looking for trouble."

Shepard didn't allow himself to smile, though he was inwardly relieved. "Good. I'd hate to help you find some." He gestured toward the exit. "Why don't you find another place to sulk around?"

"Yeah," the batarian said, eyeing the group as he walked away. "Good idea."

As they neared the door leading to the belly of the club, the music was noticeably louder, and when they walked into the club itself, the noise was near-deafening. It was as most nightclubs went: half-naked strippers dancing on raised platforms or in alcoves off to the side, some customers reserving a private dance. Drinks for every species were being served at a central bar at the back of the club, aliens of every variation were dancing on dance floors, drugs were being openly consumed on private tables, and the entire club was full of armed guards. This wasn't a flowery gentleman's club you would find on the Citadel; it was a raving bar with mad entertainment for those with enough money to enjoy it, rules be damned.

Welcome to Omega, Shepard thought as he stepped inside the club. At once he noticed a lounge overlooking the main floor, with a figure standing at the window. Aria. Shepard made his way to the steps that led up to the lounge, the guards letting him pass after a single glance to confirm his identity. Reaching the top of the stairs, he saw a blue-hued asari standing with her back to him. "That's close enough," she commanded. This had to be Aria.

At his appearance, each of the numerous guards inside the lounge had readied their weapons. At an unspoken command, they now aimed them at Shepard as a lone batarian stepped toward them. "Hold still," he said, not impolitely, and Shepard began to wonder if this was a trap. His hands itched to go for his pistol as the batarian began to scan them with his omni-tool.

"Do not fear, Commander," Olinda suddenly said. "They are merely assuring their own safety."

Whether the mercenaries heard her or not, Shepard didn't know, but the batarian soon finished and turned to Aria. "They're clean." Only then did Aria turn to look at Shepard, and when she did, she did with barely-concealed irritation.

"What can Omega do for you, Commander?"

"I was told you're the person to talk to if I have questions."

Aria shrugged. "Depends on the questions." She sat on the couch underneath the window and beckoned for Shepard to sit. The commander obliged as he removed his helmet, sitting at the farthest end of the couch to give the woman her space. She seemed the type to need it.

Shepard cocked an eyebrow when she didn't start the conversation. "Just like that? One scan and we're down to business?"

Aria mocked his eyebrow with one of her own. "Would you rather I submit you to a full invasive medical examination just to make sure you're you?" She scowled, annoyed. "I know you're you, Shepard."

Shepard nodded. "And why exactly am I being given the privilege of speaking with you? I don't think that's a common occurrence."

"You're right," she said. "It's not. However, when a man is raised from the dead, something tells me that man is important. Aside from that, I know of your exploits throughout the galaxy. While you have not necessarily earned my trust, you have earned my respect. I will listen to you, and if I can, help you." She shrugged. "I've got nothing better to do," she added nonchalantly. "And it might spice things up around here, adding you into the mix."

Shepard nodded, getting down to business. "I need help finding some people."

"Oh?" she replied in a bored tone.

"Mordin Solus."

Her interest piqued, Aria turned back to Shepard. "The salarian doctor?" Her eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Last I heard, he was trying to help plague victims in the quarantine zone." She smiled suddenly as she turned away. "I've always liked Mordin. He's as likely to heal you as he is to shoot you."

That caught Shepard by surprise. That didn't sound like any salarian he'd ever heard of. "I understand that he was part of the STG."

Aria nodded. "He's as brilliant as he is dangerous. Just don't get him talking. He doesn't shut up." She looked back at him as she leaned back on her couch. "If you really need to find him, take a shuttle to the quarantine zone. Tell them I sent you. Just don't expect to be let out if you have the plague."

Shepard nodded, deciding not to mention that the plague doesn't affect humans. "Alright. What about Archangel?"

This time, Aria laughed. "Half of Omega is trying to track him down. You want him dead too?"

Shepard shook his head. "Not if I can help it." He changed the subject deftly. "I heard he's been causing some trouble here."

Aria scoffed. "He thinks he's fighting on the good side." She shook her head. "There is no good side to Omega. Everything he does pisses someone off, and it's starting to catch up to him."

"Has he ever pissed you off?"

Aria looked pointedly at him. "Do you see me going after him?" Shepard didn't answer, and Aria turned away as she continued. "You're going to make some enemies teaming up with Archangel. That's assuming you can get to him." She smiled slightly. "He's in a bit of trouble right now."

"That's what I hear," Shepard said. "I heard he has three different merc groups out for his blood."

Aria nodded. "They've got him cornered, but it sounds like they're having trouble finishing him off. They've started hiring anybody that can hold a gun to help them." She began looking at her nails, as if no longer interested in the conversation. Shepard felt his gall rise at the condescension everyone here was showing him. "They're using a private room for recruiting. Just over there," she said, pointing to the room in question, below the window. "I'm sure they'll sign you up."

Shepard nodded. "Anything you can tell me about Archangel?"

Visibly frustrated, Aria sighed. "Not as much as I'd like. He showed up here around a year ago and started causing all sorts of problems. If you make your own laws - which everyone here does - he makes life difficult. He's reckless and idealistic." She paused momentarily. "But he seems to know enough to stay clear of me."

Shepard stood and replaced his helmet. "Sounds like I don't have much time."

"You've got all the time in the world," Aria pointed out sarcastically. "Archangel...not so much."

Shepard forced a smile and nodded to her. "Thank you for the information." He turned and gestured to his companions. "Let's go. Archangel doesn't have much time."

The five descended the stairs and walked into the private recruiting room, where they heard a batarian in Blue Suns armor pitching a new freelancer the rules. "You'll get paid when the job get's done." He waved the human away and called out. "Who's next?" Shepard stepped up in front of the recruiter's terminal, earning a stare from the batarian. "You five look like you could do some damage. Looking for a good fight?" The merc sounded vaguely excited at the sight of the five, as if seeing his troubles melt away before his eyes.

Shepard nodded. "Sure. Got a bullet with Archangel's name on it. You got a target for me?"

The merc nodded, unable to contain a small grin. "Hell yeah," he affirmed, turning to his computer. "Standard fee is five hundred credits. You get paid when the job gets done. If you die, your friends don't collect your share." A momentary pause. "You'll need your own weapons and armor..." He looked up. "Looks like you got that covered. I'm sending you the encrypted frequency address so you can patch in and wait for the signal to begin the attack." He straightened, having finalized everything. "And no, this does not make you a member of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or Blood Pack. You are a freelancer. Period." Finished with his pitch, he shrugged. "Any questions?"

"Seems like a lot of trouble for just one guy," Shepard commented.

The merc seemed more at ease with the five than Shepard thought he would be. He knew enough about freelancers to know that most merc groups considered them cannon fodder. To talk with one as an equal was rare, but the merc here was either different, or felt a small kinship with them. They obviously weren't the desperate jackals looking for a quick credit as much as they were hardened triggermen looking for a good fight. "He had a whole team, but we've dealt with them. Now he's just one guy." He shook his head. "But he's got the advantage. It's his base of operations, and he knows we're coming. He's planned for an attack like this. We've lost a lot of men trying to get to him already."

"Sounds like it's gonna be tough to get to him."

The recruiter chuckled. "Like chasing a vorcha out of a sewer pipe. But that's why we're recruiting. If we just keep throwing fighters at him, we'll get him eventually." He spared all of them a glance. "I'm starting to believe this will work now. Before, I was thinking we would have to starve him out or wait until he ran out of ammunition."

Shepard chuckled good-naturedly, not at all sure if that's what a merc would do but winging it all the same. "Where's the attack taking place?"

"Archangel's base of operations. He's been hiding right under our noses." He looked slightly sheepish as he continued. "I can't tell you exactly where you're going, but we'll get you there." It was as vague an answer as Shepard expected.

Shepard nodded, unperturbed. "So, what do we do once we get there? How do we get to Archangel?"

The merc shrugged. "The mercs on the other side will tell you when you get there. Last I heard, they were putting freelancers into scouting groups. They attack in waves to distract Archangel while we try to get past his defenses."

Shepard suspected as much. "Who would I have to talk to to get in on the real action?" He gestured to the others. "We're not your normal freelancers. You want us where we can do some damage."

The merc nodded. "Yeah, I can agree with that. We've lost so many freelancers already." He grunted. "Talk to Tarak. Tell him Morak sent you. He hates freelancers, but he might put you somewhere useful. Every other freelancer is getting crap assignments."

Shepard nodded. "Where do we go?"

"Just head outside to the transport depot outside the club and to your right. One of our boys will take you from there. Anything else?" At their silence, he gestured for them to leave. "Alright. Have fun up there." He looked over them as they turned to leave, calling out to the Blue Suns merc outside the door. "Send the next one in!"

As Shepard and his team were leaving, a young man walked past, heading toward the recruiter. "Hey, is this where I sign up?"

"Yeah, this is-"

The recruiter was suddenly interrupted by Shepard grabbing the young man and turning him around. Glaring at him, he asked, "Aren't you a little young to be freelancing?"

Indignant, the young man glared back. "I'm old enough! I grew up on Omega. I know how to use a gun!"

Shepard nodded. "And Archangel has assassinated men who've been shooting longer than you've been alive, kid."

"Archangel's efforts have resulted in the deaths of many soldiers and mercenaries older and likely more experienced than yourself," T'Pira put in.

Unwilling to listen to reason, the man shook his head. "I can handle myself! Besides," he said, pulling a pistol from his holster. Shepard tensed up until it was obvious the man was gloating over the gun. "I just bought this baby earlier today. I need to test-"

Shepard suddenly grabbed the man's arm and wrested the pistol from his hand. "Get your money back," he said in a low tone. He slapped the ejection port with the palm of his hand until the gun jammed before handing it back. "Trust me, kid. You'll thank me later." Smiling, he nodded at the speechless recruiter before turning to leave.

---

Their driver dropped them off in front of a series of apartment buildings. They immediately knew they were in the right place as the sounds of explosions, screams, and gunshots assaulted them. As the car lifted away, another batarian, also a Blue Suns, stepped forward to meet them. "It's about time they sent me someone who looks like they can actually fight." He sounded relieved, and Shepard detected no sense of malice or racially-based disgust in his tone. It made for a pleasant surprise. "They tell you what we're up against?"

"Just some merc with a stick up his ass," Shepard commented.

The batarian nodded, chuckling slightly. "That's about it. Archangel's holed up in a building at the end of that boulevard over there." He gestured over his shoulder, indicating the street directly behind him. "He's got a superior position, and the only way in is over a very exposed bridge. It's a killing ground, but he's getting tired and making mistakes. We'll have him soon enough." He spared them all a glance. "Sooner rather than later, I'd think now."

Shepard nodded. "Damn straight. What's the plan?"

"Well, originally, the freelancers were on a distraction team, heading over the bridge and keeping Archangel busy while an infiltration team snuck in behind him." He shook his head. "But just by looking at you guys, Tarak's gonna want to put you somewhere else."

Shepard nodded, liking that. He didn't need to be put in front of a sniper with no cover. "Good. More action for us, I hope."

The batarian shrugged. "Who knows? It's up to Tarak. Head up to the boulevard and get to the third barricade. Talk to Sergeant Cathka. He's in charge of logistics. He'll get Tarak to put you somewhere useful."

Shepard nodded. "Alright." He moved towards the stairs, and only after the merc was out of earshot did he speak. "Well. This could be interesting."

"Yeah," Jacob agreed. "We might have a way in, but getting out could be a problem."

T'Pira turned to Shepard. "I suggest we find an alternate route to the target, Commander." Shepard stopped to regard the vulcan, and the woman straightened as she elaborated. "To expose ourselves to fire before making known our intentions invites failure and death. We would be no better than the mercenaries before us if we were to cross the bridge."

Shepard nodded. "I was thinking the same thing, too. I don't want to walk across that bridge. Archangel will think of us as more mercenaries."

"Worse, he would target us first," Miranda said. "We're obviously more heavily armed, and pose a greater threat."

"Shepard," EDI suddenly interrupted. "I have scanned the area, but am unable to plot any other paths to Archangel."

Shepard furrowed his brow as he passed the first barricade. The entry idea was beginning to sound a little suicidal itself. "Let's hope the mercs have another way in. What else you have, EDI?"

"Scans show a considerable amount of mechs, both light and heavy, within the structure. Expect heavy resistance when you defect. Also, I have detected a gunship near the third barricade. Its power signals are inert. I can only speculate that it is offline."

Shepard frowned. "They failed to mention that one. It must have gotten damaged in the fight, or they would have used it by now."

"That is a possibility."

"Let's add that to the list of things I don't what to have to deal with," Shepard said.

"We could probably hack the mechs," Miranda suggested in a quieter tone as they passed some freelancers. "Scramble their friend-foe targeting parameters."

Shepard nodded. "Good idea. EDI, find out where the mechs are being held. Let's see if we can cause some chaos." He nodded to Miranda as praise for her idea before turning back down the boulevard. "Alright. Let's head up-"

A shot rang through the air, and a merc manning the second barricade was thrown off, his head torn to shreds. Shepard and the others had thrown themselves behind a wall, guns drawn. Shepard slowly looked beyond the barricade to Archangel's safehouse, looking for any sign of the merc. He was impressed when he saw no indication that a shot had come from that direction. "Did anyone see him?" Everyone shook their heads or replied a negative, and Shepard nodded in satisfaction as he stepped beyond the wall, keeping out of sight of the far building where Archangel was active. "I'm beginning to like this guy."

He moved passed the barricade into the connected apartments the mercs were using a storage areas, tactical planning rooms, armories, and more. One particular room had a red-skinned salarian standing in front of a group of other mercs, all dressed in the yellow armor of the Eclipse. The group stopped within the outer edges of the room so as to not interrupt the salarian, and Shepard watched as the man gave out a briefing to several of his fellow mercenaries.

"As the first wave goes in, the infiltration team will attempt to take Archangel by surprise." The salarian shook his head. "From what I've seen so far, I don't expect much from the freelancers. When they fail, we're up next. The light mechs go in first. If that's not enough, we send in the heavy. Be prepared. Archangel's exhibited hacking capabilities. If you see a mech turn on you or another merc, put it down. I don't care about the costs, I'm not losing another man."

As the salarian continued with his plan of attack, T'Pira leaned in to Shepard. "Jaroth. Leader of the Eclipse."

Shepard looked to T'Pira. "How do you know him?"

T'Pira didn't turn to him, continuing to watch the salarian. "I have reviewed all known and recorded data of this planetoid and of the surrounding bodies in the Omega system in an effort to provide multiple options for approach and coercion of the targets."

Shepard nodded, impressed with the vulcan's memory. "Anything on him we might find useful?"

He waited a moment before T'Pira replied, her supplemented knowledge of the merc surprising Shepard. "He is armed with an M-6 Carnifex heavy pistol. The pistol is modded with incendiary rounds that explode upon impact. He employs combat drones to flank his enemies, and his omni-tool is synced to deliver a blast of fire at a target or area within a 40-meter perimeter. His armor is reinforced and his kinetic barriers have been tuned to hold at a 30% higher threshold than normal. He employs LOKI-class mechs as shock troopers and YMIR-class mechs as mobile artillery." She watched the salarian for a moment longer before turning to Shepard. "Without use of his mechs, I don't think Jaroth will be a problem, Commander."

Miranda crossed her arms, impressed with the bounty hunter. "I think I can get used to having you on the team." T'Pira didn't comment, and the XO gestured for Shepard and the others to continue.

"We have to get moving. Archangel doesn't have much time." He continued walking, through a tunnel when EDI stopped him.

"Commander, I have located a storage room containing all accounted-for mechs to be used in the final attack against Archangel. I'm updating your omni-tool with coordinates."

"Thanks, EDI," Shepard said. He brought up the coordinates on his omni-tool and led the team to the indicated storeroom, where he scanned the interior of the room from just outside the door before turning to the others. "Miranda, scramble the mechs' parameters. We'll keep watch. When you're done, wait for the signal to exit the room. We don't want people to suspect us before we're ready to play our hand." They made sure no one was looking before Miranda slipped inside the room and closed the door behind her. Another five minutes passed before Shepard received notification that she had finished. He let some mercs pass by before knocking twice on the door to let her know that the coast was clear, and she was out in moments. A simple glance told him she was successful, and the group continued past a hallway preceding the third and final barricade, where a freelancer was hiding behind a wall. "Where's Cathka?" Shepard asked.

"Right over there, pal, working on the gunship," the merc said, pointing across the boulevard to a makeshift hangar on the other side. The metal hulking ship lurked just beyond sight.

Shepard left the man to hide, walking across the boulevard and into the hangar, where he was met by a bunch of armed mercs standing around in front of the gunship. "Cathka?" He called out, hoping one of them to be the man. A merc pointed over his shoulder, and Shepard looked beyond to see a helmeted figure hunched over, working on the innards of the gunship.

The mechanic stopped his repairs at the sound of his voice and turned to look at Shepard as the latter walked up with his group, visor tinted to protect his eyes from the arc welder he was using. "Sergeant Cathka," he corrected, turning his visor transparent to better look at Shepard. He sized him up before smiling suddenly. "You must be the group Morak mentioned. You're just in time."

"Yeah?" Shepard asked, forcing a smile to touch his lips. "How soon before we see some action?"

"Any minute now," Cathka said, pulling a cigarette from a hip pocket and lighting it. "The infiltration team should be sending us the signal soon. When that happens, Archangel goes down." He took a smoke before gesturing to the five. "Morak said you guys want to see some action. Any place in particular you want to be when it happens?"

Shepard nodded. "I want to be the one to get the jump on him. Got anything there?"

Cathka nodded. "Sure. You got a better chance of that with the freelancers. They cross the bridge on my signal and try to get to Archangel before he blows them away. He's a good shot; nobody's made it across that bridge so far. I'm willing to bet that you'd be the first, though." He took another smoke. "Once inside, assuming he doesn't have booby traps throughout the place, it's as simple as breaching the second story and taking him out." He patted the gunship. "If I get it up and running in time, Tarak will provide covering fire in the gunship. Should make it easier to get across that bridge."

Shepard nodded. Sounded easy enough. "Sounds good. Where do we go until the signal?"

Cathka raised his arm to point, but a beep at a computer terminal to the side stopped him short. [Target is in sight. We are a go.]

Cathka turned to the computer and confirmed the frequency to make sure Archangel hadn't hacked into their network before switching his helmet's comm channel to the mercs' encrypted, shared frequency. "Bravo team, we have a green light! Get your asses across that bridge and give Archangel hell!" He looked to Shepard and his team. "You, too! Get over there and get across that bridge! I'll have the gunship up and running soon!" He turned to the gunship, grabbing his arc welder and leaning back into the innards of the ship. Shepard briefly thought about incapacitating the merc before deciding against it; there were too many people around for him to do it unnoticed. He just hoped the gunship remained out of the fight.

They ran to the barricade, crouching behind it while Shepard gave them orders. "Alright. As soon as we jump this thing, run full out as fast as you can. Take a couple potshots if you can and put him behind cover. We need to get in that building." He looked at all of them. "Ready?"

"Commander, this plan of action will most likely get us injured or killed," T'Pira said. "Archangel has no way of knowing we mean him no harm, and so it is most logical to assume Miranda's assumption will be correct: Archangel will evaluate the danger we pose to him versus the conscripted mercenaries we are assembled with, and will deem us the greater threat, thereby concentrating his efforts in eliminating us."

"Or you're taking the fun out of it, and you can stay here while we storm the building," Shepard snapped, offering a grin that wasn't humorous. T'Pira ceased arguing, and Shepard looked to the others. They all nodded, and as one, the group vaulted the barricade.

The next moment, Shepard wouldn't forget for the rest of his life. As he sprinted for the building, he was overwhelmed by the sight of the bridge. Bodies littered the stretch of metal, covering almost every inch of the bridge, and with each passing second, Archangel's sniper rifle took out more freelancers that were assaulting his hideout. He had to step over so many that he began to wonder how the mercs were still signing up freelancers.

To his relief, they made it across the bridge before Archangel had shot them. Shepard looked back to see that every other merc that had attempted to cross the bridge had been killed, all with headshots as far as he could tell. He wondered idly about his luck before turning to the inside of the building. As far as he could tell, nothing was amiss within the building, but he didn't want to take chances. From just within the entrance, Archangel could do nothing but wait for them, and so they found a moment of respite. "Keep your guard up. Be on the lookout for booby traps." He gripped his assault rifle tight as he prepared to round the corner, when Olinda stopped him.

"Commander..." She paused. "I believe we're in no danger." Shepard looked to her to explain. "As you know, the Force allows me to sense other people's thoughts and feelings." She looked pointedly at Shepard as she continued. "I sense that Archangel recognizes you, and even feels relief that you are here."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow, wanting further explanation. "He knows me?"

Olinda nodded. "Yes. We should probably rendezvous with him. I think you'll understand when you see him."

Unbelieving, Shepard looked to the others, as if they could answer the question. Miranda simply shook her head, and Jacob shrugged. He nodded. "Alright. Let's move." Out of habit, he kept his gun trained for any threat and his eyes on the lookout for any traps, but as he ascended the stairs, nothing challenged him. He found himself at the door to the second story and, after a brief override of the door controls, walked into the room.

A turian sat on a table, hanging his head in exhaustion, completely unconcerned with Shepard's entrance. Shepard still had his gun trained on the turian, but when Archangel reached up to remove his helmet, he stopped himself. No...

Garrus's face smiled back at him. "If you're going to point a gun at me, you might as well shoot."

To be continued...