2185 CE, 23:42 hours

Crew Deck, Normandy SR-2

Omega, low orbit

2 months, 3 days after First Contact...

Falks carried his personal items packed neatly in a crude metal box, the Normandy gave a rather bad impression at first, small on the outside but surprisingly spacious on the inside, not to mention ergenomics that would put Mengsk's extravagant throne to shame.

Bunk-22, Crew Deck-02. This is the place, thought the Mercenary as he slid his armored hand onto the scanner but somehow his DNA could not be read due to the thickness of the CMC-400, and so in anger, he flipped the birdie with a frown plastered on his face.

Luckily though, the door opened, someone from the inside had done sop; it was that Cerberus woman that had tagged along with Commander Shepard. She was rather startled when seeing Falks in intimidating armor towering in front of her as if, she was caught with her hand in a cookie jar, she curtly nodded then nimbly pushed her way past him, avoiding eye contact all the while.

"Strange girl, she is,"

With a little bit of effort, Falks managed to slip his combat gloves off and cleared the scanner, his bunk was small but enough to share with another War Pig, Nelson Deveraux, part of the team Falks had assemble to aid this Shepard. The first thing Falks did was to unpack his personal belongings, some clothes he bought from Omega, few boxes of Cuban Cigars from Earth, a picture of his wife and the kids, taken back in '49. He dotingly traced his armored finger over his wife's cheeks in the picture.

He then set them all in the appropriate places. A while later, he was out of his Combat Suit and taking a stroll around the ship, trying to familiarise himself with the narrow walkways and rooms. The Normandy didn't really pack much military hardware other than some dropships, and an IFV he saw once during one of his mercenary jobs, hostiles had somehow gotten their hands on one of them, Mako as its called, the Ghost had taken it out by simply bewitching the crew to blow each other's brains out before the sole survivor slit his own throat, shell-shocked by the madness that had ensued inside the Mako.

As he headed someplace else, the other War Pigs were already hitting the showers the Normandy provided, back on Hell's teeth, water sometimes ran out and they had to send some poor bastard to unclog whatever it is that's clogging the filter, in the meantime they rationed water and used it for basic purposes. Now, with water being in abundance, he could now freely slam the tap on full throttle without the fear of his bath cut short.

2185 CE, 23:47 hours

Normandy SR-2, low orbit

2 months, 3 days after First Contact...

Shepard was watching in amusement as War Pigs brought crates of unknown items back and forth into the mess hall, and each time they returned to the mess hall, Sergeant Gardner would yell at them incoherently. He stopped one of the Pigs,

"Hey, hold up a second,"

The mercenary towered above Shepard and flipped his reflective gold visor up, revealing a tight-jawed african-american puffing away on a cigar, suddenly the idea stopping the Pig and asking him sounded like the stupidest idea ever, aside from saving the Council during the siege of the Citadel. To his surprise, the monster of a man cracked a friendly grin, "Yes, sah' what can Ah' do for you?"

'Seriously what is up with these hillibilly accents?' thought Shepard, "Ahem, not to be rude or anything but what is that you're bringing in? And why is Gardner so pissed about it?"

Without a word, the merc pulled the lid off the crate, inside were several bottles of beer lying in neat rows of threes.

"Tis' ah' going away gift from the boys, not everyday you get hired for a save-the-galaxy kind of thing, course I'm not part of your team, only helping movin' stuff but, I sure wished I could,"

They walked and talked about issues not related to the Reapers or the Collectors, no, this time it was good ol' football, God how Shepard missed these kind of conversations instead of always going "Oh Reapers, this," and, "Collectors that,"They chatted with enthusiasm on their favourite teams, for about half an hour before Joker beeped Shepard over intercom the Normandy is ready to go. The Pig who had been talking with Shepard, PFC Mickey Foo had shown himself to the ramp where the other War Pigs that didn't tag along were waiting on him Shepard did a quick salute towards the armored forms as the loading ramp clamped shut and the Normandy headed for orbit.

2185 CE, 2348 hours

Miranda's quarters, Normandy SR-2

Omega, low orbit

2 months, 3 days after First Contact...

Miranda Lawson jumped onto her bed, it had been 3 days since she had a good night sleep, or was it 5? Most of her time she was spent filing in administrative issues, handing personal and routine reports to the Illusive Man and not to mention running and gunning around the galaxy with Shepard, hot on the trail of the Collectors.

Now, she had a whole week to herself since she had completed her latest assignment; plant listening devices and mini cameras at every room the Pigs had bunked in. She couldn't sleep yet, still shell-shocked that her cover was almost blown. Her personal computer beeped and the Cerberus Operative moaned in discomfort. The Illusive Man had given her another assignment, great, more sleepless nights.

She sat up slowly on her bed, activated her omni-tool and navigated to her chrono; 2348 hours. Well, the Illusive Man can wait, I'll look into this tomorrow, and Miranda went back to lying on her bed.

2185 CE, 23:48 hours

Medical Wing, Normandy SR-2

Omega, low orbit

2 months, 3 days after First Contact...

Down in the medical ward, Mordin was assisting Doctor Chakwas giving the War Pigs a medical checkup, she insisted so as months living in the underworld of Omega may in fact cause diseases of which the Mercenaries may have contracted unknowingly. "...Alright, you're clear, next!"

The War Pig dressed in singlet and shorts with an electronic dog tag slung around his neck came forward, "Right, hold still sir," a beam of orange light sprang forth from her Omni-Tool and Chakwas began her scan on the tough muscular form before her. Mordin had taken time to examine the suits they left outside her ward.

"Fascinating, fusion reactor also may run on waste materials, disgusting to certain extent but reliable, *raps on the chest piece* Sturdy and no doubt heavy, made of unknown alloys, Omni-Tool has no match, could be from where they came, yes, hmm would like to do more research on power armor, ah, Kinetic Barrier generator, custom upgrade, very adaptive suits, Omni-Tool as well, human tech, always fascinating wherever may be."

The last of the War Pigs emerged from the medical ward, and apparently he was the operator of the power armor Mordin was examining, "Got everything you need, doc?" the Salarian shook his head, "Learned much but not that much, must do more research, yes, such as-" The merc entered the CMC-400 suit, as he was fiddling with the damn locks and straps he conversed with Mordin, "Well, doc, I ain't got that much load on me at the moment, so, i guess we could do your research thing, but, don't tell Falks, he don't like sharing tech with yall'," The Salarian nodded and made his way to the Science Lab, his, science lab. With the War Pig tailing him.

2185 CE, 00:12 hours

Mess Hall, Normandy SR-2

Omega, low orbit

2 months, 4 days after First Contact...

With the War Pigs around, the Mess hall lived up to it's name, a mess, but Sergeant Gardner didn't mind, he let it slide, hell, they've created a whole new atmosphere in the usually silent area, almost like a pub, with the alcoholic drinks spilt every now and then, and the constant singing of drunk merry men in powered armor, and crowds of people exchanging money, grim smiles on their faces.

Shepard entered the mess hall just in time to see Gardner and a bunch of the Pigs wiping up the tables and chairs, "What the hell happened here," he asked, mouth almost agape at what has become of his beloved mess hall, Gardner did a quick salute, before answering, "Crazy Pigs that's what happened sir,"

The other War Pigs were fooling around with their mops and buckets and cloths, apparently acting out a parody of a play, dated early 17th century.

"Hey, quit playing around kiddies, and clean this shit up!"

Yelled Gardner across the din, the mercenaries immediately stood up to full height in attention before carrying out Gardner's orders, Shepard only shook his head, he still had to know where they came from, and he intended to after he had a bite of disgusting nutrient pastes that the Cerberus ship had a large stockpile of. After gulping down the unsavory morsel, the Commander headed to the exit, he remebered something and turned, facing Gardner, "Mess Sergeant, when they're done with your chores, tell them to head up to the Conference Room, got a new recruit to add," The aging mess hall owner replied back, raising his voice so he could be heard, "Will do, Commander!"

Garrus was the first to arrive, well, if you're not counting the Commander himself, his armor scarred and blackened by constant gunfights against crime lords and mercenaries, Mordin, Jacob and Miranda came in at the same time, and lastly were the War Pigs, "Now, that you're all here, lets get down to- wait, where's the other one? the..the...Ghost?" as soon as Shepard mentioned Ghost, the enigmatic psionic assasin winked into existence, standing at a corner, "I'm here," he rasped, causing Shepard to jolt in surprise. Jacob tried his best not to laugh at the Commander's reaction, Miranda and Garrus shook her head, the Pigs were, well, laughing their asses off, their armored fists banging on their thighs.

"That's very funny guys, now, We got another recruit, Illusive Man provided details, goes by the name, Jack, or her code name, Subject Zero and currently, said person is aboard the prison ship, Purgatory. Cerberus has paid for Jack's release and all we gotta do is collect her personally. Illusive Man hasn't provided me much background information, sadly. Purgatory is run by Blue Suns, I don't like this as much as you, things may get dicey but, we're there for Jack, and Jack only, simple extraction, nobody fires unless I say so, you get me?" "Yes Commander," "Affirmative," "Aye-aye Cap'n." and other forms of acknowledgement. "Good, Garrus, Miranda, Swash, with me, Falks, you break off a fireteam, lead by you and meet me in the hangar in 15 minutes, any questions?...no? Break."

Yay, chapter 8 part 2, redone, only chapter 9 and 10.