He stood outside the med bay, willing himself not to pace. Intellectually, he knew Dr. Chakwas was one of the best. It was still difficult not to go in and hover. Michael clenched his fists and headed back up to his quarters.

The comm unit sat on his desk. It almost felt like it was taunting him. Two years. And everyone thought he was dead. Garrus had believed right away, but that was face to face. And Garrus was crazy. Hackett was crazy too, but... He sighed.

Michael walked into the restroom, and splashed water on his face. He caught his reflection again, and leaned forward to examine it more closely. The scars radiated out from around his left eye, forming a circular pattern. They put him vaguely in mind of the sextant his grandfather had kept on the windowsill. A memento, belonging to some ancestor or another.

With a sigh, he went to the desk and called up the next dossiers.

#

Zaeed Massani was beating up a batarian while he waited. As hobbies went, he'd seen better. "You Zaeed Massani?"

The man turned, and looked back at him with mismatched eyes. He had a rather impressive array of scars himself. "Yeah. That's me. You must be Commander Shepard. I hear we have a galaxy to save."

"Yeah, that's pretty much it." He glanced down at the batarian. "Luggage?"

"Batarian delinquent. Pissed off someone rich enough to hire me to go after him. And for my 'bring 'em in alive' rates, even." The prisoner tried to plead, and Zaeed kicked him in the face. "Tried to lead me on a chase all over the Systems. He should have known better. These people always run to Omega."

"You've been briefed?" He'd heard the name Massani before, though he hadn't gotten a lot of details.

"I've done my homework. Cerberus sent me everything I needed to know."

Well, that made one of them. "Go ahead and get set up on the Normandy. We've got one more pickup to make, then we're on our way." He gestured for good cop and bad cop to follow him and headed deeper into the station.

#

Aria was able to direct them to where he could find Mordin. And apparently there was a plague between them and the doctor. A plague and a gang turf war, with vorcha. Because of course there was. He double checked the sights on his rifle, semi-politely asked the guard to get out of his way, and headed in.

"A plague that doesn't kill humans." Michael glanced at Miranda. "A Cerberus project?"

"No." She shook her head. "Though we should probably collect a sample."

"You know, if you want me to shoot you, you can just ask."

#

There was a batarian collapsed near bend in the corridor. The man looked up at him, glaring balefully out of all four eyes. "Human. Should have guessed." He shook his head. "Bad enough you infect us with this plague. Now you lack the decency to even wait until I die before you come to steal my possessions."

The thief in Michael was actually rather insulted by that. "Humans didn't create this plague."

"Lies drip from your mouth like the blood from my sores. The proof is there for all to see." Well, that was a disgusting bit of imagery. "Your species is the only one that does not succumb to the virus. Yours, and the wretched vorcha."

This banter was getting them nowhere. "I need to find Mordin Solus."

"Humans looking for the human sympathizer. I hope the vorcha burn Mordin and his clinic to the ground. I hope you..." He coughed. "I hope..." He choked before spitting out some blood. "Damn it. Damn you. Can't..."

Almost before he knew what he was doing, Michael was kneeling by the man, applying a dose of medigel. "Hey, stay with me. This won't cure the plague, but it might help a bit."

"You..." The batarian staggered to his feet. "You helped me. Why?"

Michael started to glance over his shoulder to look at Kaidan before remembering Kaidan wasn't there. He clenched his fists. "I told you, I'm looking for somebody. Would you rather I let you choke on your own blood?"

"I suppose not." The batarian nodded. "What do you wish to know?"

He promised to send help after the batarian directed him to Mordin's clinic, then continued onward.

#

The place was bloody and brutal. People had simply been locked in their homes to die. A few had actually tried to claw their way out. He mentally crossed Omega off his list of retirement locations. One building contained looters. Michael sent them scampering off with their tails between their legs. Scavenging the bodies of people who'd barely had anything in life was just...

#

An attendant at the entry to the clinic actually threatened him. In the interest of being polite, Michael chose to ignore it. A stream of medical babble led him into one of the rooms. A salarian was instructing his assistant on mixing a medication. "Professor Mordin Solus?"

The doctor turned towards him and ran his omnitool in their general direction. "Hmmm... Don't recognize you from area. Too well-armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause. The plague? Investigating possible use as bio-weapon? No. Too many guns, not enough data equipment. Soldiers, not scientists."

Holy shit. The man talked faster than Brekin's kid. "For the love of god, take a breath. I came here to find you, okay? I'm Commander Shepard. I'm on a critical mission, and I need your help."

"Mission? What mission? No. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Who sent you?" Mordin ducked down and handed some vials off to his assistant.

"Ever heard of an organization called Cerberus?"

Mordin stood back up. "Crossed paths on occasion. Thought they only worked with humans." He shrugged. "Why request salarian aid?"

"The Collectors are kidnapping entire human populations. We're going to find out why and stop them."

"Collectors?" Mordin tapped his hand against his chin. "Interesting. Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar." He nodded. "But must stop plague first. Already have cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it. Need to kill them."

"Just once I'd like to ask someone for help and hear them say, 'Sure. Let's go. Right now. No strings attached." Michael sighed.

"Life is a negotiation. We all want. We all give to get what we want." Mordin was about to say something else when there was a rumbling sound. And then the air flow coming from the vents abruptly stopped.

"What the hell was that?" Jacob asked.

"Vorcha have shut down environmental systems. Trying to kill everyone. Need to get power back on before district suffocates." Mordin started handing him things. "Here, take plague cure. Also, bonus in good faith. Weapon from dead Blue Sun mercs. May come in handy against vorcha." The salarian held up his hands. "One more thing. Daniel. One of my assistants. Went into vorcha territory. Looking for victims. Hasn't come back."

"Do you need me to pick up milk while I'm out as well?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." Mordin nodded. "Excellent supplement for adolescents. Good thinking."

#

Michael used two of the empty barrels as a makeshift sniper nest as he started picking off oncoming vorcha. Both Jacob and Miranda threw out biotics to keep the vorcha pinned. He sighed as he took the head off one. "This is almost unsporting."

#

"Please..." A young man was being threatened by a group of batarians. That would be Daniel then. "I'm telling yo the truth. I work for Mordin at the clinic. I came here to help you."

A batarian had him by the neck. "We know you're spreading the plague virus. We saw the vials in your bag."

"No. Those vials contain the cure. Please..." The man was shaking his head desperately. "You have to believe me."

"Maybe we should cut off your fingers. That should loosen your -" The batarian cut off when Michael entered, gun drawn. "Don't move. One more step and we kill your friend."

He refrained from pointing out the guy was a complete stranger to him. It seemed impolite. "Pull that trigger, and you're breathing through a new hole in your head. Let him go, and you walk away."

"Oh, God..." Daniel looked about ready to wet himself as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"You must think batarians are stupid." Well, yeah. "What's to stop you from killing us if we let him go?"

"Let him live, I let you leave. Kill him, I do the same to you." Michael shrugged.

He saw the batarian do the math, and then lower his weapon. "Let him go." He turned to Michael. "You got what you wanted, human. Are we free to go?"

Michael nodded. "We had a deal."

The batarian actually looked surprised. "Human nobility. I didn't know such a thing existed." They filed out.

Daniel managed to catch his breath. "Thank you. I thought they were going to..." He swallowed. "To kill me." He looked up at Michael. "Did Mordin send you to find me?"

"It's too dangerous out here." Michael gestured. "Go help the Professor tend to his patients."

"Yeah, okay. I'll go right away. Thanks again. I owe you..." Daniel blinked. "Well..." He shrugged. "Everything."

#

Michael sighed. "Poor cover, lots of bad guys with missile launchers on the high ground, enemies can dig in, and we've got to run through a shooting gallery." He shook his head. "I'm guessing this is the place."

Sure enough, they hadn't gone far when some vorcha emerged. "You no come here. We shut down machines, break fans. Everyone choke and die. Then Collectors make us strong."

He sighed, and took aim. "I've had enough of this."

"Collectors want plague. You work for doctor, turn on machines, put cure in air. We kill you first."

A quick pull of the trigger sent a shot through the vorcha's head. "Next?"

They quickly started to oblige.

#

He fired off a round into the tanks on the back of one of the vorcha. The vorcha spun around, and a heartbeat later exploded, taking three of its companions with it. Then he rushed out of cover, grabbed Miranda's wrist, and hauled her behind one of the pillars. "Status?"

She used her omnitool to apply some of the gel to the wound on her side. "I'll be fine."

"Barriers are no substitute for armor." He came out of cover and fired off another shot. "The Indulgent Man may be alright with that get-up, but its not suitable for field work." He put a round into another vorcha. "Taylor, get that vial in." He switched to cover fire as Jacob headed into the control room.

#

"Missile launchers, grenades..." Michael growled. "I find the fact that they have more ordinance than we do annoying." He activated his stealth unit and moved to where he could get a clear shot. Two seconds later, he had exactly what he wanted lined up. The round went through the head of the first vorcha and into the spine of the one standing next to him. "Lawson, krogan charging."

She barely managed to dive out of the way, but sent a wave of biotic energy back at her attacker that sent the krogan over one of the railings. Then she continued the roll to reach the cover of the control room. "Activating fans."

"Taylor, with me. We've still got some clean-up on aisle seven."

#

"Miranda, make a note." Michael applied a bit of med gel to the burn on his shoulder. "I want you to find whoever gave vorcha flame throwers..." He gave the armor a critical look and made a mental note to upgrade the shield generator. "And send them a sternly worded letter. Attached to a live grenade."

She rolled her eyes before stalking away. Michael glanced at Jacob. "She doesn't think I'm funny."

"You aren't trying to be funny, sir." Jacob's lips twitched slightly as he glanced at the readout of his omnitool. "You're trying to annoy her."

"Fair point." Michael shrugged. "But in my defense, she wanted to put a control chip in my head."

#

"Environmental systems engaged. Airborne viral levels dropping. Patients improving. Vorcha retreating. Well done, Shepard. Thank you." Mordin looked away from the display and nodded.

Daniel smiled. "And thank you from me, as well. Those batarians would have killed me." He wiped at his brow. "For a second there, I thought you were going to shoot them even after they let me go."

"I was tempted for a minute." He shrugged. "Might have been better if I had."

"Agreed." Mordin nodded. "Would have killed them myself."

"Professor?" Daniel looked horrified. "How can you say that? You're a doctor. You believe in helping people."

"Lots of ways to help people. Sometimes heal patients." Mordin gestured as he spoke. "Sometimes execute dangerous people. Either way helps." He waved a hand. "Go check on the patients. Lots of work to do. Think about what I said." He waited for Daniel to walk away before turning back to Michael. "Good kid. Bit naive. He'll learn. Letting him take over the clinic. Should be able to handle it now that vorcha are gone."

He could get to like the man. The salarian doctor had a fairly impressive collection of battle scars himself. He was starting to suspect whoever made the dossiers had a fetish. "I honored my part of the bargain, Professor. Now you need to do the same."

"Yes. Unexpected to be working with Cerberus. Many surprises." Mordin nodded. "Just need to finish up here at the clinic. Won't take long. Meet you at your ship. Looking forward to it."

#

A quick check with Dr. Chakwas revealed Garrus's condition was improving. It was hard not to breath a sigh of relief. Michael looked in on Zaeed to discover the man had taken over one of the storage rooms in engineering and turned it into his personal quarters. It wasn't worth arguing about. Then he headed into the briefing room. Taylor led Mordin in a few moments later. "Welcome to the Normandy, Professor. It's an honor to have you on board."

"Yes." Mordin looked around. "Very exciting. Cerberus working with aliens. Unexpected. Illusive Man branching out, maybe? Not so human-centric?"

"You're very well-informed." Michael gave Mordin another appraising look. The man reminded him briefly of an old man that had squatted in one of the warehouses he'd once holed up in. Slight, a little dotty, and when pushed had brought a knife to a gun fight and won handily.

"Salarian government well-connected. Espionage experts. Had top level clearance once. Retired now. Still hear things." Mordin shrugged as he continued his rapid fire speech. "Informed of name only. No knowledge of man behind it. Anti-alien reputation listed as problematic."

"The Collectors have been abducting colonists from the fringes of the Terminus Systems. No distress signals are sent out. No signs of attack."

Jacob nodded. "There is virtually no evidence that anything useful happened at all..." He leaned on the table. "Except that every man, woman, and child is gone."

"Gas, maybe?" Mordin paced and gestured as he spoke. "No. Spreads too slow. Airborne virus? No. Slower than gas. Drugged water supply? No. Effects not simultaneous. Intriguing. Fascinating. No distress calls? No signs of resistance? New technology. Marvelously advanced..."

It was tempting to just watch and see what kind of conclusions the man drew. But they didn't have that kind of time. And he wanted to look in on Garrus. "You don't have to sit there and guess. We collected samples from one of the colonies. I'd like you to analyze them and figure out how the Collectors did this."

"Yes." Mordin pointed at him. "Of course. Analyze the samples. Going to need a lab."

EDI's voice entered the room. "There is a fully-equipped lab on the combat deck, Professor Solus. If you find anything lacking, please place a requisition order."

"Who's that? Pilot. No. Synthesized voice. Simulated emotional inflection. Could it be..." Mordin frowned. "No. Maybe. Have to ask. Is that an AI?"

Did the man even have an internal monologue? "This ship is equipped with an artificial intelligence." He wasn't yet sure how he felt about that.

"An AI on board? Non-human crew members? Cerberus more desperate than I thought."

"The Collectors have taken tens of thousands of colonists." Jacob nodded. "We'll do whatever we have to do to find and stop them."

"Yes. Of course. Can't risk being captured like colonists. Need to identify, neutralize technology. Need samples. Which way to the lab?"

"Follow me, Professor." Jacob led him out.

#

Michael quickly checked his messages, and felt a chill when he saw one from Anderson, of all people. He quickly pulled it up and read it over. A sigh escaped him. Yeah, he definitely owed Anderson an explanation. And Hackett was going to hit him with another stun grenade. He was about to head in to see Garrus when Jacob returned. "Commander." Jacob nodded. "We've done what we could for Garrus, but he took a bad hit. The docs corrected with surgical procedures and some cybernetics. Best we can tell, he'll have full functionality."

The door opened, and Garrus walked in. The right half of his face bore an impressive array of scars. "Shepard."

Jacob blinked. "Tough son of a bitch. Didn't think he'd be up yet."

Garrus walked towards him. "Nobody would give me a mirror. How bad is it?"

Michael chuckled. "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face-paint on there, and no one will even notice."

A burst of laughter came from the turian. "Don't make me laugh, damn it. My face is barely holding together as it is." He shrugged. "Ah, probably for the best. Everyone was always ignoring you and hitting on me. Time for you to get a fair shot at it."

"You still think you're funny." He rubbed his forehead. "I asked Dr. Chakwas to fix that."

He waited until Jacob saluted and left the room. Garrus spoke before he could. "Frankly, I'm more worried about you. Cerberus, Shepard? You remember those sick experiments they were doing?"

Yeah. He did. "Right now, they're a necessary evil. I need to get their resources to get this done." At least until he had access to resources of his own.

"I'm fit for duty whenever you need me, Shepard." Garrus nodded. "I'll settle in and see what I can do at the forward batteries." He headed out of the room.

For a moment, he just stood there. Then he sighed, and hit the button for the comm. "Joker, set us a course for the Citadel."