Omega.
The dark underbelly of the galaxy looked a lot less dingy and unkempt in the vids, and the local street trash they illustrated was less than exaggerated.
Speaking of street trash, an eager-looking salarian was ambling over in Shepard's direction, an ardent, overly-enthusiastic grin on his face. Locking his feet in place just before he plowed into him, the salarian split his lips, revealing rows of neglected, brown teeth.
"Ah! Welcome to Omega! You're new here, aren't you? I can always tell! Allow me to..."
The salarian's effervescent ardor evaporated as a bitter-faced batarian approached from his left. Shepard almost didn't notice him.
"Oh...", the salarian mumbled after identifying the batarian. "Hello, Moklan! I was just-"
Moklan had no intention of entertaining the salarian's ploy. He gestured firmly behind him, sternly shooing the salarian off.
"Leave, Fargut. Now."
Fargut nodded his head in terror, reluctant to challenge Moklan's order. "O-of course, Moklan! W-whatever she wants!"
Moklan swatted his hand in the other direction, Fargut shrinking away from the gesture to scamper away.
Moklan shook his head in mild indignation. "Blasted scavengers."
The batarian eyed Shepard intently. A small, twisted grin contorting his features, he bowed his head. "Welcome to Omega, Shepard."
Slanting his gaze at the pompous being, Shepard locked his fingers together behind his back. "So, you know who I am?"
"Of course.", gloated the smug batarian. "We had you tagged the moment you entered the Terminus Systems. You're not as subtle as you think."
Shepard was never a big fan of being the subject of such deprecating mockery. But he held his tongue, regardless. He'd learned that some people just aren't worth getting frustrated at.
Moklan's despotic temperament continued to push Shepard's ire.
"Aria wants to know what brings a dead Spectre to Omega. I suggest you go to Afterlife, now, and present yourself."
"Cut the crap.", Shepard challenged him. "I'm not here to cause problems."
Unimpressed by his exhibition, Moklan continued undeterred. "Things explode around you, Shepard. You can't blame Aria for keeping an eye on you. Afterlife. Now."
Gritting his teeth, Shepard mused the thought of throwing a fist right in the center of Moklan's ugly face, but before he could act on the impulsion, the batarian turned to go off on his own way. Turning behind him to face Miranda and Jacob, Shepard released his oral tension.
"I really don't like batarians."
Miranda acted as if she didn't hear what he said, understandably. Jacob returned Shepard's remark with humor. Admitting a short chuckle, Jacob nodded his head in agreement. "They have that reputation."
Shepard's earpiece beeped with an incoming transmission. "I'm receiving quarantine warnings about the slums where Dr. Mordin Solus runs the clinic.", EDI's synthetically augmented voice resounded. "Anticipate resistance at the transport station. I have also accessed messages between mercenary groups regarding plans to deal with Archangel. There's a recruiting station at Afterlife that may have information on him."
"Copy that.", Shepard replied promptly. "Sounds like we've got no choice but to go visit this 'Aria'.", he relayed to his squad.
"Right behind you.", Jacob stated, speaking for both Miranda and himself. Normally, Shepard would have confronted Miranda, but he was in no mood to fight with her again, or to argue with a Cerberus operative.
Shrugging off the idea, he led his team around a corner, and through a door that revealed the entrance to his destination, the word 'Afterlife' glowing above the doorway. Above that was a holographic display of two asari in skimpy, shameless clothing, dancing in the same sequence over and over again.
Even from outside, a good distance away from the building, the music from inside rang out nearly clear as a bell. A line had condensed in the front of the building, an annoyed human arguing violently with a hulking elcor. It was a wonder how the elcor hadn't lost its patience and swatted the human ten feet in the other direction.
As Shepard drew near, he caught part of the heated argument between them, but his attention was diverted to another batarian standing in front of the Afterlife entrance when he heard a sharp whistle in that direction.
Locked in the batarian's four-eyed glare, he made a come-hither notion to Shepard with his hand. Ignoring the ornery stares from the varied species waiting in line behind the angry human, Shepard approached and ascended the stairs to the door of the club. As it hissed open, the batarian muttered in a dark tone.
"Go on in. Aria's expecting you."
Purposefully sifting through the hallway and through the actual entrance, the sight that met Shepard put Flux, Chora's Den, and any other high-end club on the Citadel to shame. The music was a tumultuous, punishing amalgamation of different beats, instruments, and time signatures. The scale of the building housed various floors, each with its own reputation and assorted ethnic backgrounds. The massive room he saw now was just a sample of what this castle was about.
Peering past the 'dancer' platform in the center of the room, Shepard identified a platform that overlooked the main room. Whoever was the head honcho of this place was sure to be someplace high. Elevated above the clubgoers like she was in a league all her own, a queen atop her perch.
After managing to slip past the dancing figures of various species, sizes, and shapes, Shepard had reached the staircase leading up to the platform. Standing in the center with her back turned to him was a violet-skinned asari, presumably Aria, guarded by batarians, humans, and turians alike.
The mental image he had of Aria contrasted substantially with reality. He expected a raggedy drug addict with bloodshot eyes and a pale complexion
Coming an arm's reach distance away from her, without turning to look or to even acknowledge Shepard's presence, she mumbled just loud enough to be heard over the music.
"That's close enough."
On cue, weapons of unknown model and caliber clicked and droned as they were trained directly on Shepard's head. Twisting around to gauge his competition, he found a turian with a large hand cannon trained on him, the barrel centimeters away from Shepard's temple, ready to pull the trigger at the snap of a finger. He shook his head, giving him a look that said 'You really don't want to try anything.'
A batarian to his left mimicked the turian's threatening position, focusing his machine pistol on Shepard's forehead.
As soon as Aria surmised that Shepard wasn't a threat, she made a notion with her head, ordering her lackeys to lower their weapons. The batarian to Shepard's left placed his pistol on his hip, and activated his omnitool. Waving his arm around Shepard's physique, he revealed a set of sharp teeth as he opened his mouth.
"Stand still."
Having taken one too many verbal challenges from batarians, Shepard furrowed his brow as he wrapped his fingers around the batarian's neck, and pulled him closer toward him.
"If I have to take one more order from one of you ugly asses, I might have to do something drastic..."
The batarian looked mildly disturbed at Shepard's threat, but it was Aria who replied to it, not even bothering to turn to face him.
"Hey, tough guy. You wanna talk?"
She left a void of silence between her next sentence. "Cut the hardass bullshit, and stand... the fuck... still, before I do something drastic. How does that sound?"
Without giving him the opportunity to respond, the batarian shoved Shepard's hand off his neck, and resumed his scanning.
Seeing no merit in challenging Aria, Shepard shook his head. "Make it quick."
"What's the rush?", Aria questioned airily.
"I was told you're the person to talk to if I have questions.", Shepard revealed, crossing his arms. "And I need some answers."
The batarian scanning Shepard deactivated his scanner, the corporeal display vanishing along with the omnitool itself. "They're clean."
The batarian promptly stepped out of the way, allowing Aria a space to swing herself around, and for Shepard to approach her.
Finally, she spun around, revealing a relatively young-looking asari, with unique, and interesting markings adorning her features.
"Depends on the questions.", Aria answered defensively.
Making a notion around him, Shepard wasted no time to get down to business. "I'm guessing you run Omega?"
Aria's lips curved into a sneering laugh, as if the question asked was too absurd to be taken seriously.
Walking to the edge of the platform, her dark silhouette contrasting with the bright pink light of the holographic display in the center of the room. Stretching her arms out like a great bird displaying its massive wingspan, like a queen exerting her rule over her proud kingdom, Aria replied with a vigorous, dignified fervor.
"I am Omega."
Facing him again, she searched his face for a reaction. Or something. Shepard couldn't tell with this one.
She returned to her position just before Shepard. "But you need more. Everyone needs more something, and they all come to me."
"I'm the boss, CEO, queen, if you're... feeling dramatic. It doesn't matter. Omega has no titled ruler and only... one rule."
Bending her knees to sit herself down on the couch before her, Aria wriggled to and fro to find a comfortable position. Finding a place to rest herself, she returned her steely glare to Shepard's eyes.
"Don't fuck with Aria."
An intrepid grin spread across the asari's face. She was confident that we was so relied on, and so important, she believed she was untouchable. And being the unofficial ruler of a madhouse like Omega, Shepard was more than inclined to believe it.
"Sounds like neither of us likes being jerked around.", Shepard observed.
"And on your ship, that would matter.", Aria replied sarcastically. "Here, we entertain my preferences."
Slanting his eyes at her, Shepard believed what she was trying to say was 'My house, my rules. Behave yourself'. Only, she wanted to put as much intimidating emphasis on it as she could.
Aggression.
Smiling marginally, Shepard was already able to see what Aria was about. Her tactics, her attitude, what kind of ballgame she played.
But a simple, uttered 'Understood' was all Aria needed to allow him to take a seat on the couch to her right.
As Shepard found a comfortable position, Aria turned her head to him, and locked her fingers together inquisitively.
"So, what can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for Mordin Solus. Do you know where I can find him?"
"The salarian doctor?", Aria identified, seemingly surprised at the mention of his name. "Last I heard, he was trying to help plague victims in the quarantine zone."
Aria stared ahead, a small grin creasing her face, and a hint of admiration in her voice. "I always liked Mordin. He's as likely to heal you as he is to shoot you."
At least she knew him. Hopefully, Aria could point Shepard in the right direction. "What can you tell me about him?"
"Used to be part of the Special Tasks Group.", Aria explained, facing Shepard. "He's brilliant... and dangerous. Just don't get him talking."
Aria rolled her eyes sarcastically before she continued. "He never shuts up. And, if you really need to find him, take a shuttle to the quarantine zone. No guarantee they'll let you in, of course."
"Then I'll take a shuttle as soon as possible.", Shepard declared. "Now, what about Archangel? I need to track him down."
Aria scoffed "You and half of Omega. You want him dead, too?"
"...No, I'm putting together a team, and he's on my list. Why's everyone after him?"
Aria's notorious sarcasm drenched her every word. "He thinks he's fighting on the side of good." Aria shook her head, condemning Archangel's noble actions. "There is no good side to Omega. Everything he does pisses someone off. It's catching up to him."
One side of Shepard's lips curved into a grin. "Just the kind of guy I'm looking for."
"Really?", Aria questioned, eyeing him with a certain curiosity. "Well, aren't you interesting?"
"You're gonna make some enemies teaming up with Archangel.", Aria advised. "That's assuming you can get to him. He's in a bit of ...trouble... right now."
"Really? What kind of trouble?"
"The local merc groups have joined forces to take him down."
Making subtle notions with her hands, Aria explained his situation. "They've got him cornered, but it sounds like they're having trouble finishing him off. They've started hiring anybody with a gun to help them."
Lifting a hand in the general direction of her southwest, she continued. "They're using a private room for recruiting... just over there. I'm sure they'll sign you up."
Nodding his understanding, Shepard rose to his feet. "Thanks for the help."
Again, an amused smirk pushed against her cheeks. "See if you still feel that way when the mercs realize you're here to help him."
Shepard turned to descend the staircase, but Aria's voiced halted his advancement for a split second.
"Come visit me again some time... Shepard."
"But what about shields? You know that most geth are equipped with a kinetic shield to protect from this exact type of firepower!", Admiral Han'Gerrel argued.
"That's why you can charge the shots.", Daro'Xen defended. "Did you forget that the ionization process that the pistol uses would punch a hole in the shield, just large enough for the shot to pass trough? The marines we can equip this pistol with needn't worry about kinetic barriers any more. And even if the ionization did malfunction, the charged high-ampere electric shock would be more than enough to destroy a kinetic barrier, as well as deal damage to the geth unit, albeit reduced due to its shield sustaining most of the electric shock. Then, the platform would be an exposed, easy target."
"What about in areas with no air to be ionized? The pistol would be useless.", Zaal'Koris chided.
Xen shook her head. "Not true, Admiral Koris. There is always air to be ionized, always malleable, and adjustable. Even in the far reaches of space, gases of all kinds are present. Maybe not enough to breathe, but definitely enough to be ionized in a straight line, and punch a tiny hole in a geth's kinetic shield. And even if, in such a situation, the ionization malfunctioned, an electric shock can still travel through space. The source of the electricity is local, after all. Inside the pistol. I thought of everything, admirals. This firearm truly is a masterly crafted weapon."
Admiral Koris sighed ruggedly. "Even if it was, Xen, you know we do not possess the resources to mass produce this kind of firepower to be standard equipment for our marines."
"It doesn't have to be mass produced.", Xen prodded further. "Not very much. It can be distributed to squad leaders as standard sidearms. That way, if the team is compromised, the weapon would be in the most capable hands available at the time. And, if needed, the weapon can be passed down the chain of command."
Han'Gerrel buried his visor in his hand and Xen and Koris went back and forth, arguing over the small firearm placed on the stand in the center of the chamber.
Tali couldn't shake the feeling of tension in her chest and shoulders. She barely knew anything about weapon mechanics, how was she supposed to give her opinion, let alone offer suggestions? Even as an admiral's daughter, how could she help with anything? The amount of experience and skills she has is nothing in comparison to these seasoned admirals.
How was this 'Admiral training' if she had really no idea what any of them were talking about?
A thick, robust finger tapped Tali on the shoulder. "Tali? Do you have any input?"
Her father.
Tali diverted her attention to the center of the room, where Admirals Han'Gerrel, Zaal'Koris, Shala'Raan, and Daro'Xen had fixed their glowing, castigating gazes on her. Her face turned hot as she avoided their stares.
"N-No. I don't."
Almost immediately, Zaal'Koris, Han'Gerrel, and Daro'Xen resumed their clash of logic and competence, nothing of which Tali could contest.
A voice behind Tali scolded her timidity. "Tali, from shrinking away at opportunities for improvement, you are reducing our people's chance at survival and prosperity. Do you not want that? Do you want to doom us to the mercy of harsh fate? Have you learned nothing from the schools I put you in? The training you underwent?"
Tali could do nothing. Say nothing. Her shame weighed down on her shoulders, her head dipped in defeat.
"I expect better from you, Tali. You should, too."
Once the bicker session with the Admirals had finally come to a close, she sighed as she realized she had the rest of the day to herself. She'd decided that all she really wanted to do was go home, and crawl into bed.
Dragging her feet through the bulkhead, she plopped down on her 'bed', and activated her omnitool.
Deciding to surf through the extranet, and see what was happening on the galactic scene, nothing could have ruined her mood more than what met her eyes.
'Commander Shepard- Alive?
Is it a hoax? A trick? An expertly crafted fabrication? You be the judge! Below is an unedited photograph of Commander Shepard, in the flesh, roaming the notorious local Omega club, Afterlife. Several pictures were taken inside and outside of the Afterlife nightclub, showing Commander Shepard casually making his way inside the club, trailed behind by two unknown individuals, whom some claim are Cerberus operatives! Another picture shows Omega's 'Pirate Queen' Aria T'Loak having a casual conversation with Commander Shepard! Was Commander Shepard's death staged as an excuse for him to leave the Alliance and join Cerberus? Was it even really him, and not a synthetic, or a flawless plastic surgery job? If so, where has this Alliance hero been all these years? Why has he shown up now, after being written down in the books as one of the greatest galactic legends to ever live- and die?'
[Read more!]
[More photographs]
Tali deactivated her omnitool almost instantly. Like she really needed that.
She didn't understand what she was feeling. Or maybe this was what being completely numb felt like. She still had a hard time believing it herself. He really was alive. Rebuilt by Cerberus, but not under their control. There was no right or wrong, nothing to be faithful in. All she could do was drag herself out of bed every day, hoping for things to suddenly make sense. Feeling helpless at her situation, she reactivated her omnitool.
Finding 'Damon Shepard' among her list of friends, she opened a small box that she could use to type a message to send to him. She knew that it was the one person she trusted most, but she didn't know what to say. It was like talking to a complete stranger. Someone she didn't know.
Nevertheless, she mustered all the audacity she could. Typing her message and hitting 'send' without any second guesses, she awaited a reply to her message:
You: Two years, and you're finally on the front page of Galactic News again. How have you been?
...Nothing. For five minutes, nothing.
Ten minutes later, no reply.
Thirty minutes, still nothing.
After an hour of no response, Tali was ready to give it up and close her eyes, but as she prepared to deactivate her omnitool, it beeped softly, a new message in her inbox.
Damon: Not any better than you, I'd wager. I have a couple hours free. Talk to me.
An involuntary grin split her face. The biggest grin she'd had in a while. The only real smile she had in two years. She crossed her legs as she wrote a reply.
Hello again! Hope you liked this one! It was short, yeah, but hopefully an improvement on my earlier chapters. I would have uploaded this Sunday, but I could never get around to finishing it, so here it is, finally. Please review, and thanks a lot!