:: Chapter Twenty Nine :: Novam Vitam ::

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On the other shore I'll wait

With the hope of ever seeing

Your face once again.

Whose strange silver eyes

Betray age and wisdom.

Leaving the misfortunes of past lives

Pained smiles and dead eyes

On the other side I'll wait.

-Alcest-

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Shepard rolled over as he cast the warm sheets to the side, groaning as he put a hand on his forehead.

Perhaps he had drank a little too much. He had heard many a tale of the brutal hangover, but apparently you couldn't relate until you had one yourself.

Shepard slid his legs off the bed and stood up, slightly nauseated and with his head pounding. He yawned a few times as he walked over to his desk, pouring himself a glass of water—and hopefully not the clear alcohol he had drunk last night—and sipped from it as he slowly recovered from his splitting headache.

Shepard hadn't dreamed.

A wide smile began to grow across his face as the headache and pounding faded away with the sudden revelation.

Shepard hadn't dreamed.

Every single time Shepard had closed his eyes for the past year, he had seen bloody faces, he had heard accusing words, and he had watched everything around him dying. He had faced guilt, betrayal, adversity and chaos every time he laid to rest.

And Shepard hadn't dreamed.

He had escaped—the nagging urge to slice and to kill was gone, the guilt which had haunted him for so long like a blurry memory.

And Shepard laughed as he looked at his haggard reflection in the mirror. For once, those long ropy scars cutting across his brow didn't make him look like a monster. For once, his sharp face didn't look like a corpse's. And for once, he could look into his own eyes without cringing.

Shepard turned away from the mirror with the smile still on his face as he casually picked up another Alliance uniform out his almost-magically-replenishing supply, and swapped out his current, not-so-formal clothing for the more familiar uniform.

Just as yesterday, he quickly strapped on his pistol around his hip and the knife around his leg while he quietly whispered an old military tune from the back of his mind, straightening out his collar and uniform before he stepped out of the door.

"Morning, Kaidan, Garrus," Shepard said as he gave a salute to the two who were sitting down at the table of the mess hall, casually chatting with each other as they ate.

"You're looking well," Garrus said somewhat dryly. "And Kaidan told me that it was just him who could take his ale."

"I swear humans aren't immune," Kaidan said with a chuckle.

"Don't worry, I've got a headache too," Shepard said with a quiet laugh as he walked past them and towards the stairs.

"Shepard! Wait up!" Doctor Chakwas called out, leaning out of the door of the medbay as he stopped and spun back around.

"What is it?" Shepard asked.

"Come here," Chakwas firmly commanded. With a shrug to Kaidan and Garrus quietly observing from their table, he made his way into the room and close the door behind him.

"What do you need, Doctor?" Shepard asked.

"Let me see that left hand of yours."

Obediently, Shepard lifted up his casted left hand, holding it in the air as she gently grabbed onto his wrist.

"Try moving your fingers slowly."

Shepard began to flex his fingers, the stiff feeling appendages seemingly out of practice, but moving easily enough.

"Is that difficult?" Chakwas asked.

"Just a little stiff," Shepard replied.

"That's normal," Chakwas said with a pensive nod. "Any pain?"

"Nope."

"Then let's get it off."

Shepard's eyes widened slightly. "Already? I thought I was going to have this on for a few weeks at least."

"Maybe as a fashion statement," Chakwas said dryly. She turned around and reached into her cabinet and pulled out a small tube-shaped device, with which she placed the end onto his wrist and pressed onto a button. In a smooth movement not dissimilar to the way that Shepard would maneuver his blade to slice through a bandit's throat, Chakwas split the cast down the center and pulled it off, revealing the pale and blotchy skin underneath.

Shepard grimaced slightly at the reminder of what had almost been—what he had almost done.

But it was over now—last night had been proof enough of that.

"Might take a few weeks to look normal," Chakwas said with a slight smirk. "As long as you get your hand moving again, it should be back to normal in a day or so."

"I'll work on it," Shepard said with a thankful nod to the doctor as he turned around, holding his wrist in his hand. Purple bruises ran the length of his wrist and the long, reddish-black scar along the center which had been sealed together by some miracle of medicine didn't feel as if it belonged to him—as if he weren't looking at his own hand, but rather somebody else's.

Maybe it was someone else's hand.

"Got the cast off, Shepard?" Kaidan said. Shepard glanced up at him, having forgotten that he was still there.

"Yeah," Shepard said with a small smile. "Can get back to hurting myself again."

Shepard made his way up the stairs with no particular purpose in mind. Maybe he'd head out and pick up some more miscellaneous supplies—he could always use a few more of those. Or maybe he'd check in with Anderson—as much as Shepard was enjoying his little bit of relaxation time, the itch to get out and do something useful was always omnipresent in the back of his mind.

Shepard headed forward to the front of the cabin, hitting the button to open the airlock.

"Hey, Shepard, you're awake," Joker said as he spun his chair around. "Anderson left a message."

"He did?" Shepard said. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"His orders," Joker said with a shrug. "Told me not to wake you up—said you needed the sleep." Shepard merely shrugged.

"So? What did he need?"

"Said to meet him at the embassies—he has a mission for you, or something like that."

Shepard nodded a few times as he slipped back into the airlock. Anderson had mentioned that he would be sending him word as soon as he found out what they needed to do to stop Saren—it would be good to get back on the case.

Shepard followed the same route had he grown accustomed to by this point, travelling through the less populated and more sketchy underbellies of the Citadel and back up to the surface where he made the transition from the Ward to the Presidium, leaving behind the tumultuous crowds and entering the land of the rich and important, where he would never quite feel at home. The posh and self-righteous crowd was never one that Shepard had ever found appealing—even back on Mindoir, he'd steered away from the families that lived on the top of the big hill with the motorized scooters and fancy vehicles.

Shepard blinked a few time as he wondered where that memory had blown in from. It certainly wasn't something he had recalled before, but there it was—clear as if it had only happened moments ago. Strange.

Without much more thought, he stepped up the stairs and knocked on the door to the human embassy, waiting a few moments before it slid open, revealing Anderson standing with a salute.

"Shepard, it's good to see you," Anderson said as he finished his salute and gestured to one of the chairs in the always-changing office.

Shepard saluted the man back with a smile as he walked over to one of the chairs and lowered himself down in it, keeping his back straight as he addressed the man.

"What's the plan, sir?" Shepard asked.

"You got some rest, son?" Anderson asked instead, as if he hadn't heard the question.

"I did," Shepard said with a curt nod.

"I heard that you were out for a day—what happened?"

"I had to take care of some business for my crew," Shepard said with a shrug and a slight frown. "Is… it a problem?"

"How are you feeling?" Anderson asked, his eyes searching.

"I'm good, Captain," Shepard said as he slowly nodded. "I'm really good."

Anderson seemed to relax a little as he scanned Shepard before a small smile appeared on his face.

"Good," Anderson said as he lowered himself into the opposite chair. "Then you're ready for what we've found out."

"What is it, sir?" Shepard asked.

"The information that I mentioned to you a few days ago—we've finalized the details and we've got a plan worked out. We spotted one of Saren's liutenants—an asari named Matriarch Benezia—who has a lab rented out on Noveria.

"Noveria?" Shepard asked.

"It's an out of the way planet, but it's not under Council jurisdiction," Anderson explained. "They're notorious for less-than-legitimate dealings and controversial research. They rent out their labs to people who can't carry out experiments in Council territory without being arrested." Anderson paused for a moment. "And that's why we're worried."

"What makes this incident special?" Shepard asked.

"Because of who's involved," Anderson said with a shrug. "We've been using Tali's data extensively—without it, we would have fallen weeks ago. But with the data she found, there was a key list of some of Saren's top liutenants. And all but three of them have been confirmed dead."

"So you want me to stop Benezia?" Shepard asked, seeing where he was going.

"Not exactly," Anderson said. "That's secondary—we need to find out what Saren's planning. This whole time, he's been attacking the Alliance—but it simply doesn't make sense. Why would he just attack the Alliance? What is there for him to gain?"

"Vengeance?" Shepard said.

"Vengeance?" Anderson said as he gave Shepard a curious look. "How would you know?"

"Just a thought," Shepard said with a shake of his head.

"He lost a brother in the First Contact War," Anderson said, his gaze distant. "But that was so long ago."

Anderson was silent for a few moments before he shook his head. "But that's what I want you to find out."

"So…" Shepard said, putting a hand on his chin. "Go to Noveria, find Benezia, and find out what Saren's plans and motivations?"

"That's the barebones of it," Anderson said as he leaned back in his chair. "But I doubt that things will be that easy." Anderson paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Because of Noveria's spotty record, they're not on fair terms with the Alliance or the Council—and I'm one to believe that they wouldn't hesitate shooting you out of the sky if you tried to dock."

"They can get away with that?" Shepard said incredulously.

"We can't act again them without sparking bigger conflict," Anderson said helplessly. "They've got high friends in high places—friends who could turn the whole of the Terminus systems against us, as if the geth weren't bad enough."

"So how are we going to get in?"

"There's no way to land without them detecting you, even with the Normandy's stealth drives, so you'll need to go in disguise. While you're on Noveria, you'll be the leader of the Blackwater Mercenary Band—looking for potential employers on Noveria."

"They'll believe that?"

"It's not an uncommon story," Anderson said with a nod. "Illicit businessmen need illicit protection—they should buy it."

"What about the Normandy? It's an Alliance ship," Shepard said, wondering how exactly all the pieces would be falling into place.

"It's not a well-known Alliance ship," Anderson said. "It's a prototype design that's been kept on the down-low. The only people who know about it are the Council and the Alliance."

"And news reporters," Shepard said sarcastically, remembering his conflict with the nosy woman last night.

"They won't know," Anderson assured him. "They likely won't even look at you twice."

Shepard nodded quietly. "Where is Benezia?"

"That we don't know," Anderson said. "You'll have to find out once you get there—you can probably find some kind of records."

Shepard nodded a few times.

"Be careful," Anderson warned. "We don't know if she'll try to escape as soon as she learns that you're after her. We can't lose this opportunity."

Shepard nodded a few times as he stood up in his chair, stretching his legs. "I won't fail you, sir."

"One more thing," Anderson added as he also stood up. "When we first learned of Benezia, we sent you after her daughter—Liara T'Soni."

Shepard frowned slightly at the mention of her name. He hadn't been proud of their last meeting.

"We've had her with us for the past few weeks, and we've determined that she's innocent of the crimes that her mother has committed," Anderson began to say. Shepard could already see where he was going with his line of thought.

"I want you to take her with you and see if she can't convince Benezia to leave Saren's side."

"Will… will that even work?" Shepard asked, skeptical of the effectiveness of that plan.

"That's secondary, too," Anderson said with a shrug. "If it works, then we'll have a valuable ally in our battle."

"Are you sure T'Soni can be trusted?" Shepard asked. "There were geth where we found her."

"She was being attacked by geth," Anderson corrected. "They wouldn't attack her if they were working with her."

Shepard shook his head slowly. As much as the logic made sense, he didn't want to bring her along. After a few moments, he sighed and shook his head resignedly.

"Alright," Shepard said. "I'll take her."

"Then it's settled," Anderson said with a smile. "Contact me once you've carried out the mission."

Anderson walked him over to the door as he stepped out.

"And take care of yourself, son," Anderson said with a warm smile as the door slid shut, leaving Shepard alone on the same doorstep that he had been on a few days ago.

Shepard made his way down the stairs and headed back towards where he came from, but unlike the last time he left the embassies, this time he had a little bit of a skip in his step.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali sat down in the mess hall—which she had quickly found was where most everyone on the ship seemed to spend their spare hours—hunched over top of her Alliance-brand shotgun, with a weapons kit sitting beside it. Along the bench sat another crew member—a flight technician named Johnson—and another, more silent and grim looking man who was part of the weapons maintenance engineering staff, who she had seen around the weapons battery a couple of times before.

The two of them casually chatted back and forth, idly debating about some facet of whether better guns or more effective maneuvering was a better tactic during interstellar battle, though it wasn't necessarily Tali's forte—the details were more to her liking. While she could probably fly a ship—and probably crash it just as easily—and while she could fire a cannon, they were skills that she would leave to prodigies like Joker.

Every so often, she would toss a comment over in their discussion arguing one way or the other, but for the most part, she was absorbed into the task of fitting the extended dispersion mesh and the electrical attachment which would fit onto the front of the barrel like a bayonet.

Weapons engineering wasn't a familiar field for Tali either—though it seemed fairly straightforward and would prove to be invaluable if she could master it. She had considered perhaps asking Garrus or Wrex, since she had seen both of them in the back corner of the armory with some kind of weapon split into so many pieces it was no longer recognizable, but Garrus had seemed much more reserved and introverted as of late, whereas Wrex was simply Wrex.

But perseverance was a valuable trait—at least that's what Tali told herself while she tried—for at least the ninth or eleventh time—to roll up the heat dispersion mesh to the right size, fitting it into the barrel, and then trying to tease it out just the right amount to facilitate the highest efficiency of heat dispersal while avoiding a catastrophic "explosion" of metal heat dispersion mesh springing out of the shotgun and into the air—like it had already done eight or ten times.

The door to Shepard's cabin—which was, admittedly, one of the reasons why this spot in the mess hall had recently become accessible to her—slid open and the soldier stepped out, speaking into his omni-tool.

"—in place?" Shepard said as he briskly walked out the room. Tali nodded slightly to him as he walked past.

"I'll be there in a minute," Shepard said as he stopped behind Tali and put his omni-tool back down.

"Something wrong?" Tali asked Shepard.

"Kaidan just wants me to quickly check in with Liara," Shepard said with a grimace and a shrug.

"Is that bad?" Tali asked innocuously, wondering why a grimace adorned his face.

Shepard merely shrugged again as he slowly shook his head. "We didn't get off on… the right foot," Shepard said—a barely comprehensible expression to Tali, but she got the gist of what he was saying.

Tali merely nodded silently. Shepard gave her a salute and a slight smile as he turned around and slipped around the corner.

"Commander never talks to anyone," the grim engineer said from across the table—not to anybody in particular.

"Said hello to me yesterday," Johnson said with a shrug. "First time."

"Maybe he got a promotion or something."

"We don't get any damn promotion," Johnson grumbled—though from what Tali could tell, the man was more bluster than bite.

Tali snapped her shotgun back into place with a victorious chuckle, the heatsink fitting in place perfectly.

"Got it," Tali said with a grin.

"You do know I could have done that for you," the grim engineer from across the table said.

Tali raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"Fun to watch you launch heatsinks into the ceiling," the grim man said with a rare smile.

"Bosh'tet," Tali muttered under her breath as she shook her head in exasperation.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard gently tugged onto his new piece of silvery, gleaming armor, adjusting it to fit evenly across his shoulders. On his chest shone the stark black crossed rifles of the "Blackwater" mercenary band—a ruse which would hopefully allow them easy access into Noveria. Luckily for Shepard, his new armor had arrived insignia-free—likely as a result of Oswald's slightly less than legitimate suppliers—and he had little work to do in adding the logo. As for someone like Kaidan—who proudly took care of his suit of armor which was labelled with the Alliance logo on nearly every piece—he would need to take much longer in stripping away the Alliance logo and putting on new, Blackwater logos.

With a final adjustment in the mirror, Shepard turned around and strode out the door, tapping on his omni-tool while he exited. They would be at Noveria soon—the trip had been fairly short, only around six and a half hours, but once they touched down, they would need to get back into action quickly.

"Don't get too crazy," Doctor Chakwas said while she leaned against the wall outside of the medbay.

Shepard rolled his eyes as he nodded his agreement. "I'll try not to," he said unconvincingly.

"I know you soldier-types always like getting hurt—maybe you think the scars are attractive, or something," Chakwas said with a chuckle. "But keep in mind you're not supposed to lose a gallon of blood every time someone looks at you funny."

"I'll try not to," Shepard said again with a chuckle. With another nod, he continued on his way.

"You've got your medigel?" Chakwas interrupted.

"Yes," Shepard replied, glancing back at her.

"And your painkillers?"

"Yes."

"And the monochromide tablets?"

Shepard gave her a strange look. "What?"

"Kidding," Chakwas said with a smirk. "Take care, Shepard."

With a slight salute, Shepard continued on, making his way up the stairs and across the main deck of the Normandy as he approached Joker sitting in his pilot's chair—as usual.

"Don't you ever take a break?" Shepard asked as he sat down in the co-pilot's chair beside him.

"Not now," Joker said incredulously. "ETA to Noveria is six minutes."

Shepard easily leaned back in the comfortable chair, looking out the window into the blur of space and lights. Joker's window never looked quite the same—every time, the blackness of space contrasting with the points of light which dashed across his field of view seemed to make a different, majestic pattern.

"Pretty comfy chairs, though," Joker said with a sidelong glance at him.

"I wonder how you don't fall asleep for half the day," Shepard said with a chuckle.

Joker raised an eyebrow as he shuffled backwards a little bit, stiffening his spine. "Lots of concentration."

Shepard quietly chucked as he shook a hand dismissively. "Call up the ground team."

Joker nodded and tapped on a terminal in front of him a few times. "So, Kaidan, Tali, Garrus, Ashley, and the krogan?"

"And Liara," Shepard added—slightly reluctantly.

She had quickly disappeared within one of the remodeled cargo bays down on the second floor, and Shepard hadn't seen her since Kaidan had gotten him to quickly confirm that the proper security systems in place. All the while, she had kept her gaze respectfully to the floor, avoiding even glancing up at Shepard with her blue eyes.

Perhaps what bothered Shepard more than his less-than-kind treatment was the fact that she was a reminder of what he had begun to turn into—a creature incapable of thought or emotion, only murder and hatred.

"Hey, Shepard," Kaidan said, leaning on the back of Shepard's chair.

Shepard glanced up at Kaidan, noticing that rather than his typical navy blue suit of thick combat armor, he wore a thinner suit of grey armor with more of the bullet-resistant fabric in between the ceramic plates rather than flexible or linked up pieces of metal chain. Apparently, he hadn't felt like messing up his current suit of armor.

"New armor?" Shepard asked.

"Picked it up before we took off," Kaidan said. "Thought it would work better."

Shepard nodded a few times.

"So," Kaidan said expectantly. "What's the plan?"

"Find Benezia," Shepard said. "We'll need to get access to some kind of records once we touch down."

They remained in silence for a couple of minutes until the rest of his companions began to trickle in, one by one. Wrex showed up first—since apparently he had nothing to do on the ship anyways, with his massive shotgun clipped onto his hip as usual and his red-colored armor protecting him. Ashley showed up next, giving Shepard a curt nod as she leaned against the wall, her usual assortment of assault rifles and pistols across her back and hips.

Garrus and Liara both entered together, quietly chatting with each other as they walked towards the front of the ship. Garrus was, as usual, carrying the long sniper rifle on his back, but Liara's choice of equipment was slightly more curious. She only carried a pistol on her hip—though her biotics would likely compensate for her reduced firepower—but most curious was the grey-ish colored uniform that she wore, which looked woefully under protective.

In any case, she likely wouldn't be in the brunt of combat—she would be towards the back lines, providing support where it was needed.

As she approached, she cast her gaze down to the ground, noticing Shepard's searching eyes, stepping past him and hiding behind Wrex's more massive bulk.

But where was Tali? It was strange—typically she had been one to make her way up to the airlock before anyone else. Shepard frowned slightly. As much as he had enjoyed the night out on the Citadel, it was tough to justify that considering recent events. A slight pang of guilt rang through Shepard, both for the things he had done and then trying to act as if nothing had even happened.

Shepard glanced down the hallway, looking for Tali's familiar purple frame as he worried that perhaps he had misjudged her actions on the Citadel. Perhaps she had only been polite? Perhaps he had been reading too far into her movements and her speech, believing that he had seen something which was not truly there? Maybe, he, in fact, had actually been—

"Incoming transmission from Noveria," Joker said as everybody looked over at him. With a few taps, a holographic screen popped up, displaying a woman's pale face with blond locks resting easily beside her head.

"Identify your ship—all trespassers will be shot down without further warning."

"Jeez, these guys are pushy," Joker said as he shot a smirk back at his audience.

"This is the pilot of the Normandy," Joker said, putting on a slightly gruffer voice as he spoke through the microphone. "We're looking to find business on Noveria."

"What kind of business?" came the woman's response.

"Mercenary work," Shepard interrupted, putting on a similarly gruff voice.

"State your organization and affiliation," the woman demanded.

"Blackwater Mercenary Company," Shepard said easily. "Affiliated with anyone who has the coin to pay us."

The woman on the screen sneered slightly as she looked down. "Cleared to dock. Head to dock Echo Seventeen on Port Hanshan."

The screen disappeared as Joker shot another wry smile back at the assembled crew. "Real nice welcome wagon they sent us."

"As long as we get in," Shepard said with a shrug.

Shepard glanced back down the hallway again, hoping beyond reason that perhaps Tali's figure would appear up those steps, eyes filled with life and enthusiasm. He stood in silence along with the rest of the crew for a few minutes as Joker navigated the Normandy through the icy winds and into a shielded dome of sorts which contained a set of the large magnets which were common for holding onto ships on the Citadel. With a couple of shakes and jitters, the Normandy made its way into the loading dock as the two magnets clasped down on the sides of the metal frame, sending vibrations through the hull. The interior airlock door slid open, and Wrex, Ashley and Kaidan funneled in, filling the entire airlock with help from Wrex's massive frame.

Shepard leaned back against the wall beside Garrus, waiting for the airlock to clear and open up again before they entered.

"You're late!" Garrus shouted out past him down the Normandy. Shepard turned his head to Tali, who was jogging down past the galaxy map with her shotgun held casually in her hands.

"Sorry," Tali said with a shake of her head. "This darn thing wouldn't fit back together," she said as she shook the shotgun in her hands.

"New heatsink?" Garrus asked as he looked at it curiously. "I could have helped with it."

"Didn't need it," Tali said with a shrug. "But the darn rails wouldn't fit back on properly."

"Were they backwards?" Garrus asked with the hint of a smile on his face.

"Uhm… maybe," Tali said, rolling the shotgun awkwardly in her hands.

Garrus chuckled quietly as he shook his head. "Rookie."

"Be quiet," Tali said. "You couldn't even find the transformation power modulators if you tried."

"Not like any normal person would ever need to."

"Be quiet," Tali said again with a chuckle.

All the while, Shepard watched Tali out of the corner of his eye, watching the way that she nervously shifted her weight from side to side, and the slight unease in her shoulders. Shepard opened his mouth to ask if something was wrong, but quickly shut his mouth as he pushed the question out of his mind. Maybe he was looking too far into things.

The airlock door slid open with a whoosh as the three of them funneled in with a final farewell from Joker, lining up as they waited for the decontamination beam to pass over them. With some slight pleasure—or was it dismay?—Shepard noticed that Tali didn't have the knife strapped to her leg like she had before, only the shotgun which she had clipped onto her hip.

As the exterior door slid open, Kaidan and Ashley stood at the forefront of the walkway around their ship, addressing what looked to be like the same woman that they spoke to while they were approaching Noveria.

"…the captain's duty, not mine," Shepard caught Kaidan saying. As he finished, he turned around and gave Shepard a curt nod.

"Captain…" the woman in blonde hair said as she approached Shepard.

"Belial," Shepard said without much thought to the name, instead focusing on the grungy inflections that he hoped would make him sound more intimidating. The woman raised an eyebrow as she regarded him— he was coated in scars, with the rough beginnings of a beard around his chin.

"Captain Belial," the woman said with disdain evident in her voice. "What is the purpose of your visit to Noveria?"

"Looking for anyone who might need a little bit of extra security," Shepard said coolly.

The woman nodded a few times. "While you are in Port Hanshan, you are under watch at all times. If you make any threatening actions or statements, you will be disposed of with impunity. Abide by our rules, or we will not hesitate to put you down."

"And we will not hesitate to defend ourselves," Shepard said as he stared at the woman coldly.

The woman raised an eyebrow as she spun on a heel and marched away from them, heading towards a small metal shack at the end of the gangway. With a quick glance at his companions, Shepard followed her.

As Shepard stepped beyond the boundaries of the metal shack, the same woman suddenly reappeared, bolstered by another two women, each holding an assault rifle pointed towards Shepard's chest.

Without any thought, Shepard's hand instinctively shot to his back and brought his shotgun to bear in blurring motion that nearly set one of the guard's rifles into action, were it not for the quick hand raised by the woman in blonde to indicate to them to hold fire.

"What the hell is going on?" Shepard said in a deep, threatening voice. Already his companions had gathered beside him—their weapons similarly out and ready. Shepard knew that as soon as he gave the signal, the meager guards before him wouldn't stand a chance. His shields would hold against their combined assault for a few precious seconds—seconds which would give his squad a chance to their through their shields and armor without any difficulty.

"No weapons inside Port Hanshan," the woman in blonde said again, this time with a threatening undertone which emphasized the rifle in her hands.

"This is my business," Shepard said as he narrowed his eyes. "What kind of mercenary doesn't have a gun?"

"One that's alive," the woman said, her hand noticeably tightening around her trigger.

Shepard glanced back at his crew for a moment, each with their weapons in hand and trained on the guards who stood before them. They outnumbered them two to one—and certainly were better trained. They could have torn through them in a moment if they willed it.

"We'll kill you all before you can even fire twice," Shepard said ominously. The slightly terrified—but admirably firm—expression that one of the guards in back held showed that Shepard wasn't the only one with thoughts of destruction in mind.

"And then you'll all die when the ERCS reserve gets here," the blond woman said, her expression unwavering.

Shepard glanced back at his squad again, carefully judging his options. Whether she was bluffing or not, whether he was capable of killing everyone in this port, they had a specific mission—to get to Benezia without alerting her of their presence. Murdering everybody as soon as they arrived probably wasn't a great idea.

Shepard lowered his shotgun, putting a hand out to the side to indicate to his companions to do the same, all the while watching the blonde woman with narrowed eyes.

"Kaidan, take the weapons back to the Normandy," Shepard said coldly as he handed his shotgun back to the man, who paused for a few moments, likely equally reluctant to simply give up the familiar weapons which he carried, but conceding after a few moments to Shepard's judgement.

"The knife, too," the woman said brusquely. Shepard cast her another deadly glare—he would give up the knife, too. Perhaps in her chest.

Shepard reluctantly—more because he was submitting to the woman—gave his knife to Kaidan, who had gathered up the heavy pile of weapons in his hands and was walking back towards the Normandy.

It was alright—they could manage inside of the port. Once they figured out where Benezia was stationed, they could return to the Normandy and pick their weapons back up. In the meanwhile, they were far from defenseless. Shepard might have become accustomed to his blade, but his close-quarters combat had dealt with a considerable amount of weaponless self-defence—or as he styled it, weaponless offense.

Not to mention that he had two biotics, a hardened soldier, a krogan, a capable turian, and an engineer along with him. They would be fine.

All their physical weapons now gone, Shepard stepped forward past the three guards, still feeling naked without the familiar weight of his shotgun hanging easily at his hip.

"Good man, Belial. Play nice," the blonde woman taunted.

Shepard shot a withering stare at the woman—one he was sure that told her beyond a doubt that the only reason he hadn't killed her on the spot was because he had better things to worry about.

The rest of the crew stepped past, Kaidan quickly rejoining them after a few moments once he had dumped their weapons back on the Normandy. Ashley and Garrus both appeared slightly nervous—perhaps not without reason, as they didn't have technology or biotics to fall back on to like everyone else did.

"Greetings," a woman dressed in a tight pink suit said as they stepped through the metal shack and into a slightly more decorated chamber with a large metal rectangle standing up in the middle. The woman frowned slightly as she looked at Shepard, but then she replaced it with a warm smile.

"Gianni Parasini," the woman said, gesturing for Shepard to step through the weapons detector. With a slight nod, he did so, and the system lit up green for a moment before beeping it's affirmation.

"I apologize for the strict policies—we've had no end of trouble in recent days."

"What kind of trouble?" Shepard asked, hoping to maybe squeeze some information from her.

"None that I should talk about publicly," Gianni said with a slight smirk.

"I was hoping to pull a profit," Shepard said, slipping back into the guise of a mercenary. "Lookin' for work around here—thought that you might know a good place."

"Perhaps check in with Lultin—he has a history of dealing with mercenaries. Good luck, Commander."

"Captain," Shepard corrected with a suspicious look.

"Of course, Captain," Gianni said with a low bow.

The rest of Shepard's squad stepped through without any further troubles, easily passing through just as Shepard had. They went up the staircase into another room—a large room with a glass ceiling which proudly displayed the raging snowstorm above them.

"Looked like it was going to be a bloodbath," Garrus said casually.

"Could have used the excitement," Wrex said with a bored expression on his face.

"We can't risk drawing too much attention to ourselves," Shepard warned.

Ashley snorted from beside him. "Shepard—a krogan, a turian, three humans, an asari and a quarian walk into a bar."

Shepard couldn't help but chuckle at the statement—fate really had led him into a strange set of circumstances.

"Either way," Shepard said, having a hand in the air. "We're going to need to find some way to get access to sale records—Anderson told me that all he knew was that Benezia had purchased a lab on Noveria. It's up to us to find out which one."

"Maybe we could get someone to check for us," Kaidan offered with a shrug.

"That wouldn't work," Garrus said instantly. "What if the person was working for her? Then we'd lose her before we even got away from here."

"What about if I hack a store terminal?" Tali asked, her quiet but firm voice ringing out.

"Would that even work?" Ashley said as she frowned at Tali. "Unless we went to the store that rents out labs—if that exists."

"I can access the mainframe," Tali began to explain, unfazed by Ashley's concern. "All terminals have to report their sales back to a central computer so that they can be taxed appropriately—at least, that's how it usually works."

"I never knew that," Kaidan said with a slight chuckle.

"She's right," Garrus said. "I've been sent out a couple times to take in shopkeepers who try to hide their sales."

"And if I can get a path through a market terminal to the mainframe, I should be able to get access to all sale records," Tali said.

"And from there, we find Benezia," Shepard finished with a smile. She had changed in a few short weeks—from the upset, crying girl who they had found on death's row in some back alley of the Citadel, to the confident, and certainly intelligent young woman who they wouldn't be able to carry on without.

"You know how to hack into a market terminal?" Garrus said somewhat curiously.

"I haven't before," Tali said firmly, giving Garrus a slight glare, "But I'm sure they're not any harder to crack than a geth."

Garrus merely shrugged, backing away slightly at the hidden hostility in her words. "No offense," he meekly added.

"Then we need a store," Shepard said with a nod. "Let's move out."


Thanks for reading!

This week, I'm sending out a call to arms. I'm looking for a pair of beta readers who meet the following conditions:

- Have a strong grasp of the English language

...Pretty much. As of late, I've been far busier than I was when I started writing this, so I haven't had the opportunity to proofread most of my work before publishing it. As a result, I'd like to have a couple of people (READ: TWO) who I'll provide a chapter in advance to edit. Just send me a private message or leave a review, and I'll get back to you.

But, before you ask to be a beta reader, know this; reading while looking for errors isn't as fun. It's something I've noticed myself, and if you're enjoying my story thus far (somehow), looking for flaws might take some of the fun out of it. I don't think there are a large number of flaws, but nevertheless, I'd like what I write to be ironed out as much as possible. So, accept the position knowing that reading might become more of a chore and less of a relaxation activity (though I'm flexible with editing and uploading). Once again, more details will be provided at a later point and I'll elaborate even further than my current state of rambling craziness.

Now that the business is out of the way... I have nothing much else to say. I, of course, want to give special thanks to reviewers who make me feel happy and whatnot, as well as Azzorath for being a great reviewer/person overall, but I don't want to get too repetitive with my inane comments. Regardless-I shall thank them despite it all!

I'll stop my blubbering for now. I'll see you guys again real soon!

-Zalgroth