Afterlife.
The nightclub was the erratically beating heart of Omega. It rose up against the dank, heavy background of the rest of Omega, its colors seeming unnaturally bright, seeming more alive than any other place on the station. It was a palace of vice, which was fitting, as it served as the throne for Omega's pirate queen.
Denali stood on the top floor of the club not far from Aria's private booth, looking down at the other levels, packed full of patrons fighting, drinking, and watching the dancers gyrating on the center stages. She gripped the railing, the only outward sign of tension she gave as she watched a batarian make his way up out of the corner of her eye, moving toward their boss with an almost sheepish look.
When he reached the booth and stood in front of Aria, Denali finally turned, shifting so she was close enough to overhear.
"….slipped past us before we realized it. She went straight to the quarantine zone and talked her way past the guard. Moklan's waiting for her if she comes back out."
"Probably infecting the rest of the station. I told you Cerberus probably had something to do with that plague," another batarian in the entourage of guards around Aria spat.
Aria remained silent, leaning back in the booth, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "No, I don't think so."
Denali had to close her eyes for a moment. Two years ago, Liara T'soni, the asari who had traveled with Arian Shepard on her hunt for Saren, had come to Omega in search of the commander's body. Therefore, it wasn't as much a surprise to her when rumors had started that Shepard was still alive.
Denali had been slower to believe it. It hurt too much to hope. She'd known Arian since she was thirteen when her bastard of a father had brought her to the Terminus Systems. Had helped her when she finally escaped from him four years later. They had been friends and occasional lovers and everything in between right up until her death. Now the rumors…
She didn't know what to believe now, but Denali did know she couldn't simply stand by and do nothing.
Aria finally made a flicking motion with her hand. "Change of plans. Have Moklan send her to me if she comes out. My curiosity is piqued now."
Denali moved away from the railing, resigning herself to waiting a little longer.
Kasumi was starting to rethink her opinion about who was the most interesting character among the dossiers. Archangel was still up there, but Dr. Mordin Solus was starting to sound equally cool.
"Damn it...damn you..."
She glanced over as the batarian Shepard was crouched next to coughed and fell back, too weak to even curse Shepard anymore.
Obviously irritated, Shepard batted the sick batarian's hand away when he tried to stop her and stuck a micro-syringe of medi-gel into his arm. "That won't cure the plague but it'll probably help."
"If he's weak enough to be taken down from it, he doesn't deserve to live," Grunt's rumble was interrupted by a harsh cough. Shepard rose and regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, and then casually rammed a larger syringe of medi-gel into his neck as he bent over. Grunt let out a very un-kroganlike yelp and glared at her. Kasumi snickered.
The sick batarian was watching Shepard with wary confusion. "You...you helped me. Why?"
The commander shrugged. "Why not? I told you, I don't know if I can find a cure for the plague, but I'm going to try. Might as well have you live to see it."
One of the things about Shepard that made you believe she could do the impossible was the casual way she approached doing so. She talked about curing the plague that had shut this district down and was killing off everyone but its human and vorcha residents like she did it every day.
"Your words sound...sincere. Maybe it's the fever, but as you said...what have I to lose?" the batarian said. That was the nice thing about being trapped in a quarentine zone with mercs on one side and a killer plague that came out of nowhere on the other: the very real possibility of certain death at any moment certainly gave you perspective.
The very confused batarian was happy to direct them to where Solus's clinic was located, especially when Shepard promised she'd ask the salarian to send someone back for him. Kasumi saw Jacob eying Shepard with curiosity and couldn't blame him for it. Shepard wasn't know for having a particular love for batarians, for obvious reasons. Of course, no one really liked batarians, but before she'd joined the Normandy, Shepard had been renowned for being a scourge to batarian slavers. She'd shot an asari in cold blood, but she tried to save a dying batarian. Shepard was a strange woman. But never a boring one.
Most of the thugs they were picking their way through were from the Blue Suns or the Blood Pack. Kasumi knew about both of them, of course. She loved big gangs like that. You never felt guilty at all about stealing stuff from them.
"There's a lot more of them than I would expect in a plague zone," Jacob said as they watched Grunt take down a Blood Pack krogan with almost frightening ease despite the increasing coughs that rattled from his throat. Shepard kept frowning at him worriedly.
She glanced over at Jacob. "Actually, there's much fewer than I was expecting. I would have thought I'd see more of the humans from the Blue Suns here picking off stragglers and looting." She paused, lifting her hand to her comm as she listened to something. Her brows furrowed. "Ah. EDI says she's picking up communications between gangs about plans to deal with Archangel. Damn…come on."
"She doesn't mean the gangs working together, does she?" Kasumi scoffed.
"I don't know. Looks like we'll just have to find out once we have Dr. Solus."
The batarian they'd helped had suspected Solus had probably been some kind of special forces among the salarians due to the fact he had never come across a clinic doctor who warned off gangs by displaying the bodies of their slain comrades in front of the clinic.
Shepard liked that. It made a statement.
His dossier said he was a biological weapons expert with light weapons training from the Salarian Special Tasks Group. Having encountered that particular group before, Shepard knew that wasn't anything to scoff at.
Finding Mordin Solus turned out to be the easy part. The clinic was stuffed with shell shocked refugees and harried workers, but it was easy to pick out Solus. He was a pale skinned salarian with a plethora of impressive scars, including missing one of his horns. He flitted around the clinic, chattering to himself, making notes with his omni tool.
Convincing him to join the cause required a bit more work. For one, they had to figure out what the hell he was saying. Trying to follow his speech reminded Shepard of playing that game where someone hid a ball beneath a cup and shuffled them around then made you guess where it was. Salarians in general thought (and talked and lived) faster than anyone else in the galaxy but Mordin was a cut above the rest in that area. He'd figured out they were from Cerberus once Shepard had asked him to join up, shooting deductions one by one out loud as he looked them over and coming to that conclusion within a minute.
Mordin had become interested when she had mentioned they were after the Collectors, mentioning almost off handedly that the plague had to be engineered and the Collectors were the only ones who possessed that kind of technology. It made sense; coinciding with the fact the plague didn't kill humans. Considering what she'd seen of the Collector's technology from the footage on the colonies, she though they might be better off dead.
Before he joined, Mordin had tasked them with taking the plague cure he'd developed and distributing it throughout the district via the environmental control center. A task that was made considerably more complicated by the fact the environmental controls shut down minutes later. Apparently the Collectors had changed their minds and decided everyone ought to just die right here and now.
This, combined with the fact her temper was already honed to an edge just by being on Omega, might have made her less than diplomatic with the vorcha guarding the control center. She'd officially used up all her diplomacy convincing a group of batarians to let Mordin's assistant, a bright young man named Daniel, live. She'd kept her word and let them leave once Daniel was free, but another surge of violence had swept through her as they left and it had taken all of her control not to take them out like she had with Rana.
So it was that she and Grunt were in a similar mood by the time they reached the control center. There were big groups of vorcha keeping guard on it, just as Mordin had warned. One of them ran forward, hissing at them. "You no come here! We shut down machines, break fans! Everyone choke and die! Then Collectors make us strong!"
So they were spreading the plague for the Collectors. Little bastards. Vorcha creeped her out. They looked like monkeys bred inside a nightmare, all sharp teeth and wide, crazy eyes. It gave her no little satisfaction to let Grunt loose on them and watch him mow them down.
Jacob whistled as they moved inside, helping Grunt out from a safe distance. "Remind me to never piss him off." Mordin had cured Grunt of the plague at the clinic and the little dear seemed bound and determined to remind them how strong he was.
More Blood Pack, Shepard noted, seeing a couple of krogan in red armor among the vorcha. The Collectors must have given them some kind of cure or immunity, because none of them seemed to be effected by the plague. However, neither they or the vorcha seemed to have realized that everyone in the district choking and dying meant everyone in the district. Including them. Shepard could already feel the air pulling at her lungs as she breathed in and out. It left a foul aftertaste in the back of her throat.
Grunt plowed through the control center ahead of them, Kasumi fading into the shadows and attacking at random as Jacob followed Grunt and Shepard flanked him. They took out vorcha attacking Grunt from the side and larger groups of them when Grunt turned to take on one of the krogan. It went slower than Shepard would have liked, but eventually they made it to the controls. Jacob watched their backs as she and Kasumi got everything up and running again, taking a deep breath when the air started to circulate again and coughing, shaking his head. "Still tastes nasty."
"It'll take a while for the filtration to take care of that, probably," Shepard said. Personally, she thought the air on Omega was always heavy and foul, but that just could have been her. They distributed the cure per Mordin's instructions as Grunt came bounding up to them, covered in blood and looking like he was having a grand old time. He sniffed the air and huffed out a breath. "Air doesn't taste sick anymore. Guess the doctor has some use."
"What do you have against Dr. Solus?" Jacob wondered. "He just cured the plague."
"I hate salarians." Grunt tapped his head. "Programmed memories. I hate turians too!" He sounded delighted, which made Shepard snort, Jacob frown, and Kasumi edge slightly behind Shepard just in case he suddenly remembered he hated humans too.
"I wonder if the Collectors really were going to mutate the vorcha into something new and strong or if they were just going to let them all die with the rest of the district," Shepard said, looking around at the bodies scattered through out the control center.
"Don't know, but if they did keep their word, I'm going to go out on a limb and say it probably wouldn't have been quite what they thought it would," Jacob said. He looked over at her, his expression solemn. "I don't like what all this means for the colonists that have been abducted, Commander."
"Yeah…neither do I…"
"Environmental systems engaged. Airborne viral levels dropping. Patients improving. Vorcha retreating. Well done, Shepard. Thank you." Mordin Solus's fingers flew over the controls of one of his consoles and he muttered a couple of things to himself she couldn't make out.
Daniel was standing not far away, tending to a couple of patients. He looked up. "And thank you from me, as well. Those batarians would have killed me." He studied Shepard with sharp eyes. "For a second there, I thought you were going to shoot them even after they let me go."
Shepard just looked away.
Mordin turned from the console. "Merciful of you. Risky. Would have killed them, myself."
Daniel looked shocked. "Professor? How can you say that? You're a doctor. You believe in helping people."
"Lots of ways to help people. Sometimes heal patients. Sometimes execute dangerous people. Either way helps."
And that, Shepard thought, just about summed it up as neatly as you possibly could.
After leaving final instructions to Daniel, who would be taking over the clinic, Mordin insisted they all go through a specialized decontamination before leaving the district. Shepard had intended to drop him off at the ship to let him get settled and start going over their notes on the Collectors before looking into Archangel. She checked her stride as someone called out to her and turned to see a batarian stomping up.
"Commander?" Jacob asked quietly. Kasumi moved up to her side and Grunt moved up on the other, growling.
"Get Mordin settled and if Massani has come back from getting his bounty, then bring him out with you when you come back," Shepard said, speaking of the bounty hunter Cerberus had hired around the same time they hired Kasumi. Jacob didn't like it but he nodded and led Mordin onto the Normandy, the salarian loudly speculating that the batarian was an emissary from Aria T'Loak. Shepard was willing to bet that's what he was there for too.
The batarian stopped a few paces away and glared at her. "Welcome to Omega…Shepard."
"Evening."
The batarian crossed his arms. "We had you tagged since you entered the Terminus Systems." He paused, waiting for a response, and seemed a bit perturbed by Shepard's utter lack of surprise. "You're not as subtle as you think," he continued, digging a little.
Kasumi snorted. "Many words can be used to describe Shepard. Subtle isn't one of them."
The batarian barely spared her a glance before focusing on Shepard again. "Aria wants to know what brings a dead Spectre to Omega."
Of course.
"I suggest you go to Afterlife and present yourself."
"I've been here before, you know. Even I'm not stupid enough to cause problems or piss off Aria," Shepard said.
The batarian shook his head. "Things explode around you, Shepard. You can't blame Aria for keeping an eye on you."
He had a point, though she wasn't going to say that out loud.
"Afterlife. Now." With a rather dramatic arm wave, the batarian strode back the way he came.
They waited for Jacob to return with Zaeed Massani. EDI had suggested Afterlife as a jumping off point to find Archangel, but a little niggle of defiance and pride kept Shepard from just hopping to at Aria's order.
Shepard paused to take in the sight of the club with its gaudy lights, holographic flames burning above the doorway, and noisy crowds waiting to get in. They were waved through without even being asked to check their weapons, which Shepard judged to be a deliberate move on Aria's part. She wasn't afraid and wanted to show it.
To some, Afterlife was the real representation of Omega. Pirates and gangs tended to view Omega as a haven, a place where they were surrounded by people just like them, where they were honored for their deeds instead of hunted for them. The more romantically inclined passed through Omega considering it a place that was truly free, unbound by the hypocrisy of the bureaucrats in Citadel Space, where the strong weren't hindered by the weak, where they could be their true selves: different, better than the mindless sycophants who adhered to Council law.
To Shepard, it simply brought back memories of blood and rage and death, the smell of cigarette smoke and rot. Of children sold to the highest bidder and an entire station full of people who couldn't care less. Of close calls, barely escaping groups of men with furtive eyes who were on the constant look out for seventeen year old girls who let their guard down.
Omega was a cesspool. A rotting, stinking carcass of a meteoroid that stood as a balance to civilization, a constant reminder of what went on beneath the surface of things.
Afterlife hadn't changed a bit. She could have been walking in to the exact same scene she might have over a decade ago. That thought weighed her down.
Jacob seemed on edge, but Kasumi and Zaeed, who had both surely seen Afterlife many times before, were unimpressed. Grunt sniffed the air and looked around. "Drinking, fighting. These people all think they're krogan."
Shepard felt a smile curve her lips. Leave it to Grunt to take the mythical Afterlife down a peg.
We don't have museums on Omega, we have Afterlife. Or maybe Afterlife can be considered a holo museum considering all the posing going on there.
It was sheer, utter willpower that kept Shepard from swaying at that amused female voice echoing through her head and kept her walking instead of stumbling. Denali. How could she have forgotten Denali? She glanced around as if the thought would conjure the woman she considered one of the few good things Omega had going for it.
There was no time to dwell on her friend, they were coming up to Aria's throne and one did not let their attention wander when in the presence of the Pirate Queen of Omega.
She stood, a tall, purple skinned asari, with her back to them, looking out over the club. She barely glanced over her shoulder as Shepard came up. "That's close enough."
Weapons were suddenly bristling from all sides, every one of them pointed toward Shepard and her people. Jacob drew his gun automatically, Grunt snarled, and she saw Zaeed's hand drop to his pistol. Shepard didn't even bat an eye, watching Aria silently. If she'd wanted them dead, they never would have made it here.
For a long moment, they stood that way, until Aria finally made a small motion with her head and her guards backed away, holstering their weapons. Shepard glanced at Jacob, who put his pistol away, and laid a hand on Grunt's shoulder to restrain him. Grunt shot a glance around, taking in how many people and weapons were around. She could almost read his thoughts, his common sense fighting with the idea of going out in a wave of glorious destruction and bloodshed. Since there was still a part of her that wasn't entirely adverse to that idea herself, she waited until she was certain he wasn't going to cause trouble. He was learning.
One of the batarians was doing some kind of scan on her with his omni tool. "Stand still," he said curtly.
"Certainly." Shepard kept her eyes on Aria, who finally turned to look at her.
Shepard had never actually met Aria T'Loak face to face. During her foray into Omega when she'd been younger, she had been far too insignificant to warrant Aria's attention. Funny, she'd never thought in a million years she would ever be in the position to warrant Aria's attention. Denali had started working for her long after Shepard had left for Earth.
She was gorgeous. Shepard had never met an ugly asari, but even among that beautiful, ageless race, Aria was exceptional. She didn't have a weapon or fancy armor; she didn't need either. She wore power like a cloak, it was in every move she made, every flick of a glance she shot your way. To shorter lived races, she seemed to have ruled Omega from the beginning of time. Shepard didn't have any doubt that she had cultivated that image over many a year, but the fact remained she was able to pull it off with ease.
The batarian stepped back and the two women regarded each other for a long moment, the silence stretching out. Silence was a very good tactic to make your enemies nervous; Shepard knew and utilized that herself. It was rather annoying to have it turned back on her, but she withstood it. Aria was running this show, let her take the lead.
Kasumi, a romantic at heart, thought the picture the two made was fantastically dramatic. The entire world seemed to have narrowed down to those two figures. Everyone else seemed to just fade, as if overwhelmed by their presence.
Aria, finally taking Shepard's measure, spoke at last: "You've been busy. You managed to slip by Moklan when you arrived, it's been a while since I saw that happen."
"Unintended, I assure you, I wasn't trying to sneak anywhere, I was just in a hurry." As with the Illusive Man, Shepard knew she didn't have a prayer of matching Aria's skill in this subtle game of power and posturing, so she figured honesty was the best policy. "I didn't come to cause trouble. I know who rules Omega."
"Rules?" Aria seemed amused, turning and spreading her arms. Also like the Illusive Man, Aria understood the value of a good background. The picture she presented was dramatic, resonating with power to go along with her words: "I am Omega." She looked back to 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. Omega has no titled ruler and only one rule." She sat down in one smooth, graceful movement, the picture of arrogant self possession. "Don't fuck with Aria."
Shepard fought the urge to applaud. "Easy enough to remember."
"If you forget, someone will remind you." She glanced over at one of her batarian bodyguards, who grinned as he spoke: "And then I toss your sorry ass out of the nearest airlock."
"Ah, well, I'll keep that in mind. I already died once in a similar manner, I don't want to repeat the experience. It isn't pleasant," Shepard said calmly.
That discomfited the batarian. In fact, it was the first thing she'd said that seemed to make an impression on everyone around them. Aria merely raised her eyebrows, but Zaeed eyed her curiously and several of Aria's people glanced at each other, not sure how to react to such a bizarre statement, especially with the calm, matter-of-fact tone Shepard had said it.
There was another moment of silence, this one a bit awkward, before Aria calmly gestured to the wide booth that took up the entire alcove. Grunt growled when the batarian shifted so he would be closer to Shepard. She looked over at him and shook her head. "Grunt, treasure, you've been chomping on vorcha all day and it looks like you'll be getting some gang members later on. Patience." Shepard sat, crossing one leg over the other. Aria studied her for a moment. "You didn't come here to cure the plague," she finally said.
Sticking with her 'honesty is the best policy' approach, Shepard shook her head. "I came to…recruit…a few people for a mission." She gestured to Zaeed, who smirked. "In that case, it was Mordin Solus. Curing the plague was a nice bonus, though."
"The Professor? Good choice. Don't let him start talking, though, he never shuts up," Aria said.
Shepard smiled wryly. "I noticed."
"So who else are you after that means your young krogan there will get to snack on gang members?" Aria seemed genuinely curious now that she had established Shepard wasn't a threat.
Shepard considered that a stroke of luck. "I'm trying to track down Archangel."
"You and half of Omega. You looking to recruit him, or do you want him dead too?"
"He's on the list."
"Interesting. You're going to make a lot of enemies teaming up with Archangel."
"What's a few more?"
Aria gave her a slightly condescending smile. "That's assuming you can get to him. He's in a bit of trouble right now."
"So I hear. You don't happen to know where I could find him, do you?"
"The local merc groups are recruiting anyone with a gun to help them take down Archangel."
"The local merc groups?"
"Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack, mostly. It's actually impressive, they never band together unless there's a war," Aria said.
"All three of them? Well, that's…annoying." Shepard scowled, genuinely irritated, which seemed to amuse Aria.
She jerked a thumb toward the club. "They're using a private room for recruiting…just over there. I'm sure they'll sign you up."
Well, damn it to hell, couldn't they have waited another day or so? Then she might have taken Archangel off their hands and everyone would have been happy. "Thanks for the tip."
"See if you still feel that way when the mercs figure out you're here to help him."
"Sounds like a good fight, Shepard," Grunt chortled. He bared his teeth in a grin that reminded her so much of Wrex in that moment, it was almost painful.
"Indeed. Sounds like we don't have much time to waste." She rose to her feet.
Aria chuckled. "You've got all the time in the world. Archangel…not so much."
Garrus crouched and pulled a heavy peace of tarp over Sara Montegue's body. Her face was peaceful in death, though her hair was matted with blood. He laid a hand on top of the tarp for a long moment, closing his eyes. He didn't feel much, either of guilt or sorrow. He didn't have room in him for that at the moment. All he had was a moment or two to cover them all up decently.
It was all he could do.
He turned his head toward the balcony and rose, snatching up his rifle as he looked over. More freelancers. Sheep for the slaughter. Grimly, he brought his omni tool up and set it to record before settling the rifle on his shoulder and sighting down the barrel. There seemed to be a grim symmetry in gunning them down while he recorded his last words.
There was no room in him for mercy anymore, either.
AN: Move your ass, Shepard!