Chapter 12: I Decline Your Offer

22nd May 2176
Mindoir
Paul Lord

Paul woke to his mother calling him, he voice slicing through the cool morning air like a sword through flesh, his eyes opened ad saw that his bed was bathed in the sunlight streaming through his window.

"Paul, wake up! Your breakfast is ready." Cassie called to her only son, bringing from his dreams back to the poor, farmers life he lived. Most people were a farmer on Mindoir.

"Ugh… I'm coming!" Paul yelled back, as he fell to the floor, his face now hurting from the sudden impact. Quickly putting on his clothes, he ran down stairs to his breakfast of cereal. His breakfast everyday was the same, boring cereal. He wished for something new, different, exciting.

After he had finished his breakfast, Paul slowly walked outside, the sun warming his face, his feet leaving footprints in the fine dust that covered the planet's surface.

"I've finished my food!" Paul shouted to the empty air, his mother nowhere in view, not an un-heard of occurrence, they couldn't afford to wait. Crops needed harvesting, machines fixing, and animals slaughtered, or shaved. Instead of waiting for a response, he moved to the closest machine, one that harvested Dextro-Wheet, since he and his family couldn't touch it, they had to use machines to harvest it. That was how Paul lived his life, helping his mother with the farming, fixing machines, He never got to see his dad, he died when Paul was young, heart attack.

When Paul finished his chores, he went inside, while his mother remained outside, turning on the tap to wash his hands, he heard a strange sound, something new to his ears, yet would haunt him for the remainder of his life.

Gunshots.

It was obvious that they were slavers, and everyone knew what to do when slavers hit the farming-world. But by the blood-chilling screams of people outside, they didn't get a chance to hide, or set up defences, they were just mowed down, some were taken, the sobbing barely heard above the screams of the dying.

His fear denying him all access to logic, he ran to his mothers' room, taking the riffle she kept to ward off invaders, he checked the ammo-block, like he was taught, and went to window.

Outside, he could see the ocean of blood staining the ground, the islands of corpses, littering the floor. He took the rifle, and set it up on the window-sill. Looking down the scope, he searched for his mother, he didn't care about the other farmers who were mercilessly cut down, a hail of bullets ripping apart their bodies, or those who were taken aboard the far away ships, he cared only for his mother, the last of his family.

Finding her struggling against a four eyed Batarian, he scoped in on the slavers head, wishing he could make it hurt more, but not willing to put his mother in danger, he pulled the trigger, the Batarians head exploding, leaving his mother to run for safety. He felt nothing for the aliens death, he didn't want to, instead choosing to focus on his mother's path, leading her straight to him.

His eyes went wide as a stray bullet her leg, her scream piercing the now quiet air. Keeping an eye on her, he waited for the low-life scum to take her away, no-one did. They left her to die. Taking his eye from the scope, he scanned the ground, looking for anyone who could help his poor mother, seeing none, he wiped the tears from his eyes, placed the rifle on the ground, and ran to her aid.

"Mother!" He screamed, his voice becoming hoarse at the volume he was shouting at. "Mother!" Still running, he threw open the door, and continued to his mother, the stillness of the air not even causing him to pause.

The screams had stopped, all was quiet, and still, above him, the sky was littered with ships. Slaver ship, where his friends were taken, he reached his mother, her eyes staring blankly out at space. Seeing a pool of red liquid growing around her, he broke.

He fell to the ground, cursing the Gods, the Batarians, even the Alliance, no-one had helped him save the one person who mattered to him, he sobbed and sobbed, for hours he wept and cursed, not even stopping when the Alliance shuttles were landing, and strong hands griping his shoulders, pulling his broken shell towards the shuttle, and away from the cursed lands of his farm.

20th November 2189
Normandy SR2
Paul Lord

"He's waking up. Doctor, he's waking." A feminine voice called, filling the air. He didn't remember who the voice belonged to, but it was sweet, he could listen to it all day, and still be sad when the woman left. Wanting to see who this voice belonged too, he opened his eyes, regretting it as soon as he did it. The lights of the medical bay burning his eyes, forcing them closed again, he grunted in discomfort.

"Now lie still, we don't know who much damage that blow to the head did to you" Another voice instructed, this voice however, was not so sweet, it was a caring voice, but it was like a mother he didn't know.

Remembering that which he would rather stay buried, his eyes welled up with tears, he clamped them shut, refusing to cry for that which he could not change.

"I'm fine, just let me stretch my legs a bit." He said, not so much asking as commanding, he done this enough when he led his little band of mercs on Omega. He moved his legs off the table, opening his eyes as he did so, this time, instead of the lights burning his eyes, they greeted him warmly. Standing above the table, the sweet voice once again filled the air, lifting his spirits from the depths of his burning memories.

"Are you feeling alright?" Liara asked, genuine concern filling her voice, he eyes pleading with him to tell her that he is fine.

"Besides from a raging headache, yeah, I'm fine." Paul replied, rubbing his head, trying to relieve himself of the pain, to no avail.

"EDI's having a look at that OSD we found, she'll tell us when it's done." Shepard said.

"Until then, you need to get some rest, now everyone else, off you go." The motherly voice said again, seeing that it came from Doctor Chakwas, the medical chief. Makes sense that she would act all motherly.

As everybody left, Liara stole one more glance at Paul, concern still not vanished from her eyes. When the door closed, Paul laid back down on the table, he didn't call it a bed, beds were soft and comfortable, but this was hard and cold. Seeing no rest coming to him, he looked over to his Omni-tool, deciding that he wanted some company, he raised his arm to his face, and tapped a few buttons.

Out of nowhere, a yellow and red combat drone appeared, bathing the room in a gold light. Paul let Sol run around for a bit, get him used to the new surroundings. Letting Sol roam about this enclosed, yet spacious room, Paul created a ball, like he used to do when he was bored back with his old friend. He threw it against a wall, and caught it in his other hand, he repeated this movement again and again, until the good doctor scolded him for playing in the med-bay. Paul just sighed at his fun being ruined, but obliged anyway.

It wasn't long before boredom overtook Paul's body, and forced to him fall to sleep.

28th December 2184
Omega
Paul Lord

While Paul was freelancing for Aria, the queen of Omega, he was tasked with taking down a Blood Pack red sand deal, but was told that the queen wouldn't stand for any civilian casualties if it could be helped, which lead to Paul being tucked away in the shadows.

"Come on, hurry up already." Paul muttered to himself, he had been waiting here for hours, his patience starting to fade. When he was certain that the information he was given was false, a Krogan and Vorcha showed up, the Krogan wielding a massive Katana shotgun, while the Vorcha was handling a bag of red sand.

Not waiting for the customer to show up, he moved out of the shadows and behind the two dealers.

Sniff. The Krogan smelled the air, and probably smelled Paul over the vile odour of the drugs. He started to pull out his shotgun.

Paul, seeing this immediately dispatched the Vorcha with perfect headshot from his sniper rifle, these short distance shots only adding to his already amazing aim, the head of the first victim disappeared, leaving behind a corpse quickly painting the floor a new shade of red.

"Ha! Nice shot, too bad that won't work on me" The Krogan teased as the shot gun was finally pulled free from the magnetic clamps. The Krogan turned to face Paul, his massive stature towering far above the human, who was putting the spent heat sink to good use, throwing it at the behemoth using his biotics to speed it up, penetrating the beasts' eye.

The smell of burning flesh soon filled the filthy air of Omega, as the Krogan roared in pain, his claws scratching at the wasted eye, trying to cool it down, but doing nothing more than causing the hulking mass to bleed.

Crap! He keeps this up, he'll send himself into a blood rage! Paul thought to himself, not wanting to see such a thing happen. He rushed the Stationary Krogan, pulling his knife out, he bounded up to the Krogan's head, driving the blade into his shoulder for grip, the blade becoming soaked in the blood of the raging Krogan. Pulling himself up on the Krogan, who was too busy trying to swat Paul off like a fly, Paul drove the, now bloody knife, just under the plates of the Krogan, and pushed, lifting the plate right off his head, exposing the brain.

"Got you now, you oversized lizard!" Paul yelled as he punched the Krogan's snot. Paul jumped of the stunned Krogan. "Now go tell the other Blood pack, that any Red sand deals in Aria's territory, are done by her, go now, before I take your balls!" Paul told the Goliath.

"But who are you? Not even Aria knows about our plates!" Whispered the shell of a Krogan.

Thinking back to his thought about the Krogan being Goliath, Paul remembered the old Cristian tale of a giant. "Call me David, I'll complete the deal." Said Paul, picking up the bag of red sand, clutched by the corpse of the Vorcha. It was not long before the costumer showed up, but long enough for Paul to hide the body.

Omega
Afterlife
Paul Lord

"So you stopped the deal, killing the dealers, but still sold on the product?" Aria asked Paul, her tone neutral, giving Paul no idea what answer she wanted.

"I did, but only after making sure that he buys from the best, that is you." Paul said. It had been only a few minutes since the incident, and Aria seemed very interested in that particular detail.

"Why?" Aria asked, he arms now folded under her breasts.

"A new buyer would bring up prices, giving you more profit." Paul said. Allowing none of his fear into his voice.

Aria said nothing for several moments. "You know about this 'Archangel" character?" Paul nodded. "I and he have a mutual beneficial agreement. The Blood pack have sent a heavy Krogan after him. I want you to keep Archangel alive."

"Do you have a location, or do I just wonder round?" Paul asked, thankful that he had a new mission. He hated waiting, having nothing to do.

"It has already been sent to your Omni-tool. Keep him alive." Aria let him know that the conversation was over with a wave of her hand.

Omega
The Wards
Paul Lord

Paul had been walking around the wards for over an hour, following the blue Turian known simply as: "Archangel."

Absolutely nothing had happened. He went into a few shops, made a few calls, but he wasn't attacked, in fact, there were barely any Krogan in the Wards. There were a few, but none were openly hostile towards Archangel.

"Hey!" A distinctly male voice shouted, causing Archangel to turn in surprise.

"Yeah, what's up?" The Turian asked, his voice so low that Paul could just barely hear it over the noise of Omega, a mess of shouts, gunshots, and music.

"Keep an eye out, you may be in danger, Blood pack have sent someone to kill you." The odd man whispered back.

"You mean try, but thanks for the warner, Butler." The Turian said, patting him on the back, and turning towards Paul, who kept walking towards the other end of the station. When they passed each other, Archangel grabbed Paul's arm, and pulled him to a slightly quieter corner.

"Since you're following me, are you here to kill me?" Archangel said accusingly.

"No, I'm from Aria, she wants you protected."

"So she sends one guy?" The unbelieving tone in his voice obvious. His metaphorical eyebrows hitting the roof.

"Just enough to be discreet, but more than enough to kill your killers. So to speak." Paul replied, slowly moving back into the crowd. "Just go about your day. You won't know I'm here."

Archangel just shrugged, and continued to his favourite bar. Purgatory.

10 minutes Later.

Paul Sighed. Archangel had just been downing drinks for almost ten minutes straight. But to Paul's continued annoyance, the mercs hadn't appeared to kill Archangel yet. Paul could take bullets like a champ, but waiting was not one of his favourite things.

When Archangel had downed his seventh drink, did to Krogan arrive, their large size and red clan markings making them easy to spot. Paul used his Omni-tool to warn Archangel, Aria wanted him alive, and Aria always gets what she wants. He moved behind the two Krogan, who in turn, were moving towards Archangel.

Paul was contemplating making a cheesy one-liner, but decided against it. Wanting this to be over quickly, Paul drew his combat knife, its serrated edge glistening in the artificial light, using all his might, Paul drove the knife into the closest Krogan's head, just below the plates. Watching as the Krogan released a surprised gasp, the other turned towards his companion, just in time to see Paul rip the Krogan's plates off.

"You sadist Human! You dare take his plates?! I'll end your pitiful life!" The Krogan yelled as he rushed Paul, who was forced to roll to the side, momentarily leaving the stunned Krogan without his plates.

"I resent that!" Paul yelled over the screams of the other species in the bar. "My life's not pitiful" Paul said, totally ignoring the 'sadist' comment. He rushed over to the Plateless Krogan, who had come out of his stunned state. Bioticly charging his fist, Paul sent a jumping-punch to the Krogan's exposed brain. The force exerted on the rather large brain, for a Krogan, caused it to burst, pink matter covering Paul hand and the inside of the Krogan's thick skull.

Forgetting about the other Krogan as Paul looked at his handiwork, he was soon reminded when a large mass came barrelling into his side, causing sharp pain to shoot up Pauls entire left side.

"I think I heard some of your ribs crack. Hehe." The Krogan chuckled.

"And you call me 'Sadist'" Paul retorted as he pushed himself up, only to be stopped when a heavy foot landed on his chest, stopping any movement Paul could make.

"Humans." The Krogan made a tutting sound. "Still thinking you are the strongest." The Krogan was pushing harder now.

"Maybe, but you made a mistake, want to know what it was?" Paul asked showing no sign of fear or pain.

"Go ahead, you'll be dead in a couple of seconds." The joy in the Krogans voice was evident.

"You failed to notice I'm biotic." Paul smiled as he glowed blue, lifting the Krogan into the air, allowing him to stand up right.

"Come on! This isn't fair, put me down so I can kill you!" The Krogan yelled, loud enough that Paul guessed that some of the patrons outside heard him.

Paul began thinking, or at least looking like he was. "Erm… No." and with that final word, Paul launched the Krogan into the far wall with enough force to crack it. The Krogan moaned. Damn these things can take a hit Paul thought to himself. He threw the Krogan into the opposite wall, cracking that one too. Deciding not to destroy the building with him inside it, he pulled out his knife, and took of the Krogans plates, his screams of agony doing nothing to save him. Putting him out of his misery, Paul thrusted the knife into the Krogans exposed brain, giving him a quick end.

Paul turned and went behind the bar, grabbed a particularly expensive drink, and left.

15 minutes later

Paul had been looking for Archangel for fifteen minutes now, and Paul was only just entering a tenth establishment when Paul saw the blue Turian. He was drinking.

Again.

Paul moved right up next to him, and ordered a drink himself.

"Your problems are solved." Paul said, not wanting to release details in a crowded place like this.

"Okay" Came the response.

"I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking." Paul said, injecting laughter into his voice so that Turian would know that he wasn't mad.

"I thought you would go back to Aria. I didn't expect you. Sorry."

"Nah, don't worry man, plus, I make sure a jobs done, until you get home, I'm staying where can see you." Paul continued.

"Huh, you're not like Aria's other goons." Archangel chuckled.

"I'm not a goon. And I'm better than most mercs." Paul's sense of pride entered his voice.

"I still don't know your name." Archangel finally looked over at Paul, prompting him to give his name.

"My names Lord. Paul Lord." Smiling to himself as he remembered the old movies he watched in his spare time.

Archangel nodded, and went back to his drink. Paul, only just receiving his, drank as well.

"Since I am a merc, are you gonna kill me?" Paul asked, no fear in his voice, just curiosity.

Archangel was silent for a while, making Paul nervous.

"You just saved my life, so killing you would be a pretty douche move, so no. I'm not gonna kill you. Far as I'm concerned, you're not a mercenary, you're just trying to help people, you haven't killed anyone innocent have you?" Countered the Turian.

"No, I always check their backgrounds, if they haven't done any serious crimes, I don't kill them."

Archangel began thinking; Paul just sat there and drank his drink. The bitter flavour rushing over his tongue, numbing the pain of his ribs.

"I have a squad, we do pretty much the same as you, you're welcome to join if you want." Archangel offered. "Might be nice to have another Biotic. What level are you if I may ask?"

"I prefer not to give out my personal information like that, sorry, I can't join your squad either, it's nothing personal." Paul said, thinking about his best friend, and what he would think if he did something like that.

"It's okay. I understand, it's not for everybody."

Authors Note:

N/N7: Why hello there Archangel. Yes this flash back is brought to you by Mass Effect 2.
K/N7:Why. In. The. Name. Of. Bioware did you turn down that offer?!
N/N7: Cause I know what happens to his squad, as do you, and every else.