"Slaughter Club" from Hitman: Contracts

LV. Stolen Gift, Stolen Memory

(Shepard)

This first Monday of May, a fashion mainstay, a symbol for brighter days ahead—these sentiments stayed with me as I prepared for the day. Getting ready for Kasumi's mission, I had shed the last of my grief and angst. Looking at myself in the mirror of my bathroom, I felt like myself in this outfit. Kasumi had asked me to 'dress up' for Hock's party. So of course I went for one of my tailored suits. Sharp and stately, I smoothed down the structured lapel of my jacket. I adjusted and tightened my tie. I made sure I hadn't left a single wrinkle in my dress shirt underneath, clean and steamed. Perfect creases down my suit pants. Curved shine dulling over my shoes. All-black everywhere, highlighting my styled structures.

I also chose to do this for another reason—other than Kasumi's request.

Aria had mentioned going to Bekenstein for an event. She'd chosen to be coy about what it actually was. But I knew better. I had picked out my best suit, better than anything I'd ever worn. I wanted to surprise Aria at Hock's party. Spritzing on this smooth cologne of mine, I felt myself smiling, wondering what her reaction would be. This whole thing seemed like more than a mere coincidence. Like it was meant to be.

Since I last saw Aria the other day, I had tried to question this.

Just to be a contrarian. Just to play Devil's Advocate with myself.

I couldn't find any reason to doubt her. I couldn't come up with any excuses to avoid this breakthrough of ours. I couldn't possibly assume that Aria would hurt me in the same way everyone else had. Just because it happened so many times before, I couldn't automatically believe it would happen again. I wanted to think it was naïve of me, actually treating every new relationship as separate from the past. I saw no reason not to do that. And I knew Aria felt the same way, going through this exact same process.

At this same juncture in our lives—she and I had much more in common than I could've imagined.

Both of us so intense, so emotional, so averse to showing 'weakness' by being vulnerable. Both of us the type to give our all in a relationship, falling hard every time. Both of us willing to do anything for that person, self-sacrificing at our cores. But just as much, that person could easily take advantage of us. And so we had turned into the people we were today. She and I had every reason to be apprehensive, to tread carefully. This mirror of our shared experience stopped that from happening; this mirror of far more.

The only guilt and trepidation I felt was about the Collectors. What we'd discovered on that ship during the last mission. Knowing that they abducted those colonists because of me… Of course I wanted to put an end to it. Endless temptations accosted me—for us to just run through the Omega 4 Relay now, destroying the Collectors once and for all. But even without the IFF, I knew my team wasn't ready yet.

The Illusive Man holding the IFF hostage didn't help us at all.

I had considered storming his base. Going to find him in-person. Assassinating him for everything he'd done, and for what he'd planned on doing in the future. But every time I thought about it, I remembered: Aria in Insomnia, telling me not to worry. Cerberus would destroy itself. All I had to do was continue on this path. No matter how strange or out of order it seemed now, it would work out.

With that in mind, I made my way to the cargo hold, meeting Kasumi there. We'd just arrived at Bekenstein. For some reason, she had asked if we could rent a skycar. She didn't want to use the shuttle.

So I had obliged her request—the rental place on Bekenstein sent the vehicle here ahead of time.

When I found her, the first thing out of Kasumi's mouth was: "Wow, they weren't kidding."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "Who wasn't kidding? About what?"

That smirk slicked through the shadows beneath her hood.

"Oh, you know," teased Kasumi. "A few people mentioned how nice you clean up. And they definitely weren't kidding. I'm not surprised, though. I couldn't picture you in a dress. Figured you'd go for a suit instead. You look good, Shep. I'm almost jealous of Hock's guest of honor. She'll be pretty impressed."

I wasn't sure what she meant by that last part. "Thanks, Kasumi…"

Kasumi took the driver's seat, and I entered on the passenger's side. Together we drove off through the golden skies. The late afternoon sunlight from Bekenstein glowed through the windows; the nearing sunset blushed through the thin clouds, and the colony's misting vistas. And the colony's skyline glittered in such a luminous luxury, lights spanning out endlessly. "More glittering than diamonds, more expensive than surgery." I could definitely see why Bekenstein had earned its reputation as the humans' Illium. I expected to find an infinite amount of new-money tycoons flaunting their wealth out there. But this place did have some of the best romantic venues around. So I hoped Aria wouldn't be disappointed.

Dozens and dozens of towers raised higher than I'd ever thought possible. Rivaling any city on Earth, the rich and famous had practically created a utopia for themselves. Straight up to the clouds above, many of these towers and palaces competed as the tallest buildings ever created. One in particular stood out:

Taller than all, the handsome structure raised up to the airborne ships and sky balloons gently gliding along. Transparent windows and minimalist, structured black steel climbed up to Bekenstein's skies. The glare of the sunlight itself seemed to compete with those heights. I could only imagine staring out to the colony's end from the topmost part of that construction. Like standing atop a ship within a sea of clouds.

"And there's Donovan Hock's palace," noted Kasumi. "'The tallest building on any colony known to man.' He enjoys holding the title. Almost as much as he enjoys smuggling stolen goods. Or keeping them for himself to show off. Hock's only pretending he's a legitimate patron of the arts. Hence his crazy palace. But it's just a front. When Keiji and I targeted him, tried to pull off a heist, my partner ended up paying with his life. Now Hock's holding Keiji's greybox hostage. I need to get it back. It's all I have left of him."

"We'll get this done, Kasumi," I promised. "What's the plan? Give me the rundown."

"Right, here goes. Like I mentioned the other day, Hock's hosting a party at his palace. The Thousand Faces of Commander Shepard. It's an obsessive fashion show filled with models who happen to look exactly like you. While Hock's distracted, I'll find my way underneath the palace and find Keiji's greybox. While I do that, I need you to find Hock and assassinate him. You know, as payback for my partner. I'd do it myself, but I'm worried I would get too emotional. I can trust you to stay focused on my behalf."

"Understood. Tell me more about Hock's party. What's his angle? Is he really that obsessed with me?"

"Kind of. As with everything else he does, it's another front for something more nefarious. Hock plans on picking out the best Shepard imitator on the runway. He'll grant them a private audience, along with a reward of several million credits."

"Several million credits for a reward?" I echoed. "Sounds a little too generous."

"Hock uses fashion models to infiltrate the lives of his enemies. He sends them to befriend certain weak links, have affairs with others as blackmail—you know, the works. He'll recruit this Commander Shepard lookalike to handle those jobs for a big paycheck. The first reward is more like a down payment."

"So those enemies of his would think the model is the real me."

"They sure would," confirmed Kasumi. "Hock plans to make a killing off of it."

"Well, I don't want him profiting off of some cheap knockoff. I'll definitely deal with him myself. Should kill two birds with one stone this way."

"Oh, I just knew you'd say that. Glad to see we're on the same page!"

Remembering Aria, I asked, "And I assume this party is invite-only?"

"You bet," said Kasumi. "I've got that taken care of for you. You should blend right in with the other 'Shepards' at the party. To help with your cover, I created a new personal background for you, just for the occasion. You're an anonymous sniper-for-hire who prefers to let her guns do the talking. However, you'll suffer the occasional social gathering when it suits you. I took the liberty of giving you a reputation, too. Papers, witnesses, article in Badass Weekly. As a final touch, the name on your invitation has to be…nondescript. Just like the background I made up for you. I settled on Agent 47."

I didn't mean to laugh at that. "Agent 47 from the Hitman games? Really, Kasumi?"

"Why not? I doubt anyone else will get the reference. Those games came out centuries ago. The high-society people here won't be gamers. It was either that or Alison Gunn. You don't look very much like an Alison Gunn, though. I had to improvise. You're not a bald guy with a penchant for disguises and assassinating people with fiber wires, either. But clearly, you can rock a sharp suit when you feel like it."

"Whatever you say," I accepted. "What's security looking like at the palace?"

"Hock will have his Eclipse mercenaries everywhere. The mercs will be on the lookout for me. They have some pretty nifty scan technology to check for tactical cloak users. So you won't be able to use your own cloak to get around. No weapons, either. You'll have to find another angle to infiltrate the palace."

Something told me Kasumi had her own hopes, her own ideas.

She gave it away once she said, "Aria might be able to help you. Not surprised Hock invited her to the party. But that should give you an idea of who else will be there. Mob bosses, crime lords, merc leaders—not to mention tons of shady executive managers passing as upstanding citizens. I get the feeling Aria will be some type of guest of honor. She's the most high-profile name I spotted on the list."

Guest of honor, huh? "We should be able to use that to our advantage, then. I'll keep an eye out."

I noticed Kasumi had a lot more on her mind. More than just the mission. As we drove over Bekenstein's high-end manufacturing district, Kasumi stared out at the buildings. She didn't strike me as the type to openly complain, or share her feelings unprompted. Maybe she didn't want to feel like a burden.

"Something else bothering you?" I asked.

Kasumi sighed in exhaustion. "Oh, you know—this and that," she tried. "Everyone won't stop talking about you-know-who. It's just a little repetitive. I had an invitation for her to join you at the party…"

"And you decided to throw it out instead."

"Pretty much. To be honest, I'm not very happy with Miranda right now."

"Because of what happened on Pragia with her and Jack?"

"Not just that. It's also about Keiji's greybox."

"What's in it that makes it worth all this trouble?"

Kasumi explained, "The greybox holds Keiji's memories. Everything from the codes and plans he stole…to all the time we spent together. Wrapped up in those memories is the secret he stole. Keiji never told me what it was, but the information got him killed. All those precious memories are what I'm really after. It's all that remains of who he was. I guess it's not mixing well with current events."

"You mean with Miranda and me?"

"Maybe it's hard to believe. Maybe I'm more frustrated with her than you are. She's just…giving you up because of Cerberus. For an organization, for a job, for one man—the Illusive Man. She chose to leave you for such idiotic reasons. Meanwhile, Hock took Keiji away from me. I didn't have a choice. And now I'll never, ever get him back."

I never expected Kasumi to feel so invested in my story, linking it to her own.

If she felt this way, I could only imagine how everyone else felt about it.

I didn't want to know the details—but I liked that they cared for me.

Kasumi wrapped up her thoughts on the matter:

"She hurt you, Shepard. Plain and simple. Aria's timing couldn't have been better. You do seem—brighter. Now that you're going to meet up with her. So I hope you two have a great time today."

Seemed a little late to deny anything. "Thanks, Kasumi. This ought to be interesting."

"That's what I'm going for."

Arriving to Donovan Hock's palace, Kasumi and I went our separate ways for now. The elevator took me up to the atrium, while she took an alternate route down to the basement. Kasumi would go find Keiji's greybox downstairs; I would find an angle to infiltrate the palace and assassinate Hock upstairs. I already knew my most successful angle would revolve around Aria's presence here. So my first objective was to find her. I wasn't sure if she would recognize me, or if she would assume I was just another imitation. I felt my curiosities almost getting the better of me. If Aria really did like me, would she always know? Would she pick me out of a lineup with ease? Could she tell the difference between the real me and someone else? These rising fantasies raised me higher than this elevator, reaching the atrium now.

I stepped out to the expansive spectacle of the building. These polished black floors made it difficult to walk quietly with the shoes I had on. And I couldn't help staring up at the beams rising up from the floor to the impossibly high ceiling—gaudy golds and twisting patterns snaking up that climb. As I looked up, the sun shining in from the windows up the nearby steps nearly blinded me. Gold from the sunlight, gold from the beams, and that reflective black of the floor each animated the light everywhere. And I walked up the steps lined with a fine violet carpet, a decorative waterfall cascading right next to me.

And I passed by several armored Eclipse mercenaries, none of whom bothered looking at me. I blended right in with all my lookalikes here in the atrium. Plenty of other people took up the space, dressed in their flashy outfits; definitely looking as if they could've fit right in at the Met Gala on Earth. Their own blends of conversation, their canned laughter and fake compliments, and the sounds of their clinking champagne glasses filled the area. Those groups of merc leaders and other unsavory individuals—they certainly looked the part for today, standing around together in small groups. Some of them hovered near the center of the place, standing atop the clear glass of the floor opened up to the hundreds of floors underneath. Others hung around the tall windows open to the sea of clouds outside: Bekenstein's views unfiltered across the horizon. A number of waiters and palace workers walked around, with those Eclipse mercs vastly outnumbering them. Black, white, gray coloring of their armor instead of yellow.

Hock's mercenaries didn't have their eyes on me now. I needed to keep things that way.

Walking through this place with no weapons, no backup, and no freedom to use my tactical cloak…

I realized how vulnerable I felt.

Naturally, I looked around for Aria, needing her for more than the mission.

Kasumi updated me via radio: "Okay, I'm in. Don't worry about any surveillance in the building. I'm making it so Hock can't keep track of you anywhere. There's just…something odd going on."

I wandered off to the side, away from other people. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Hock won't know where you are. I've taken care of that. There's more. A specific VI is tracking you through the cameras. No one else. Even I can't scrub it."

"It's tracking me? How the hell is that possible?"

"No clue," said Kasumi. "It's specifically programmed to track your movements. I think this thing is able to jump around from location to location, no matter where you are. As long as you're by a camera, this VI will show up. Then again, this does sound familiar. EDI discovered something like this in her systems a few weeks back. She scolded me over it, figuring it was my fault and that I was up to no good. I told her it wasn't me, though I did promise to do my own research. Then EDI and I would tell you about it together."

All signs pointed to Aria. This was how I'd felt her watching me. Not right now. Just in general, before.

And yet she couldn't have had the means to make this VI herself.

"Can you tell who this VI is from?"

"Hmm, looks like…it's from the Council. But they're not the ones who've been using it. That's someone else."

Staring out at the sunlight beyond, I remembered:

Aria used to have a thing with the asari councilor before. So she must've called in a few favors with this VI—and her Tentron-level security clearance. I should've been angry. I should've been suspicious. I should've treated this as another Cerberus situation, mistrusting with misgivings. But I just felt…comforted by her. Consoled by Aria's intentions, as soft and harmless and gentle as the sun outside. Solaced by her promised needs to take care of me. The full evidence of her compassion played out before my eyes. From these views out the windows, I could picture another vista. The sunlight from Thessia, the eternal sunset's dream there. I saw it all, seeing everything around me so much brighter.

I continued my search for Aria, fully aware of this sunrise in my chest. This new dawn in my heart shined on. Shining over the long, dark night that I'd suffered before—not knowing who to trust, what to believe; never feeling at home on my own ship, with my own team. Aria had my back. She'd had my back this whole time whether I knew it or not. This surprise brightened these rays in me, burning in a calm and comforting heat. If I were less jaded, this heat could've warmed my face into a smile. But I knew it was the same for her, cynicism and emotions and all. I found her scars so beautiful in my hands.

Just as beautiful was the area I found Aria in.

She sat on a bench in a garden, carved out along the perimeter of this place. Plants and small trees leafed through the area. Rounded slabs of pure white dotted the paths. This sanctuary resided near the edge of the building. Waist-high railings glassed as separators from the long fall through the clouds.

Of course Aria wore her usual outfit, seeing no reason to change things up for the occasion.

And of course, Aria wasn't alone.

I smiled as I approached the scene.

Aria sat on that bench, holding a fluted glass of champagne. Legs crossed tightly, lips pursed over the ring of her glass, that glare of hers seemed deadly. She didn't appreciate this other Commander Shepard standing near her, trying to start a conversation. This other me wore a convincing version of my Alliance fatigues—even though I would never wear something so casual at a party like this. Aria knew that. She saw through this copy of my face, my long hair, and my mannerisms. And she saw through even more:

"Come on, Aria," tried the imitator. "It's me! How many times do I have to tell you? I'm the real Shepard. Can't we get out of here, go do something together? I'll prove it to you if I have to."

Aria sounded unimpressed. "I'm not buying it. Get out of my face."

"I don't get it. Why won't you believe me? We were just on a mission together!"

"You're whining, that's why. The real Shepard never resorts to whining. I'm sure you paid a lot of credits for the surgery to look just like her. Not to mention, you're obviously using some kind of modulator to make your voice sound like hers. But you're just another copy. For the last time—I'm not falling for it."

My doppelganger smirked. "So that's how it's going to be? If I leave, that basically means we're breaking up. I just went through a whole breakup with Miranda. Now you're throwing me away? After all the times we had in bed together! I'm the only one who knows how to give you what you want."

Some obvious fairy tales and embellishments had circled around the extranet, it seemed…

Aria cut her a stern glare, warning, "Walk away. Before this gets worse."

Laughing now, my copy spread her arms wide. "Did I lie? Everyone's talking about us together—"

As a clear danger, Aria activated her biotics, those blues and whites glowing all around her. That other Shepard stepped back in fright, giving herself away all over again. Aria settled her biotics just as quickly. Glad for the fake-out, she threw her drink in my imitator's face instead, champagne dripping down that doctored face.

"Now get the hell out of here before I throw you off this balcony myself."

My false double slinked away in humiliation. "I… I should go."

Watching her leave, I waited for a bit, hoping no one else would come by. And no one did.

Meanwhile, Aria sighed in aggravation. She set down her empty glass, muttering over the wasted champagne. I could only wonder what went through her mind. How many fake Shepards had come up to her today, pretending to be me; trying to get her in bed with them? Even just one was far too many.

I had the perfect idea to make up for it.

Going up to her, I put on my paragon appeal as a gentleman, respectful in intent.

Aria didn't quite notice me, too busy fuming over her wasted drink and her wasted time.

So I gave her an easy, charming smile. "Aria. You look beautiful as always. How are you doing today?"

Eyes growing wide, Aria snapped her stare to mine. She gaped at me for a moment. Baffled. Speechless as she took in every detail about me. The luster of her lips shined in this late afternoon sun, brighter with my attention. The ice of her eyes melted from this focus of my gaze on her. She began to wonder.

"My name is Agent 47," I claimed, still playing the part. "The party's getting pretty crowded out there. Looks like we both had the right idea, escaping to this little sanctuary. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Maybe she knew it was me. Maybe she had doubts. Maybe she had no idea at all.

Aria turned her head sharply, breaking our gaze. But she gestured to the free spot on the bench anyway.

Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I took the seat next to her. Not too close. I sensed Aria's suspicions growing despite herself. I sensed the wall she put up between us as well. She always did this thing—whenever she didn't trust someone, or if she just didn't want to show weakness, Aria would act like this. Not making eye contact. Purposely staring out at some other spot in the distance instead. Keeping her legs crossed the way she had them now, putting on that show of stature and calm. Just keeping me in her periphery, maintaining that powerful aura of hers. But this mask of hers slowly started to peel away.

I had a feeling: Aria expected me to pester her. So when I chose instead to keep a dutiful silence, she started to change her mind. I felt the shift in her energy. Especially once she got used to my presence. I knew she smelled my new cologne—this smoother one I'd had when we last saw each other. Of course it gave me away, but I couldn't mind. I liked that Aria noticed these small details about me. I loved that she'd memorized everything she could about me. She had absorbed my essence as much as possible.

Aria took the chance of starting a conversation. "So…you said your name was Agent 47, was it?"

"That's right," I replied. "Seems like you've heard of me."

"Strangely enough, I have. There was an article about you in Badass Weekly. Not that I actually read the magazine myself. One of my people on Omega recently pointed it out to me. I find it suspicious that I've never come across you before then. You're an expert sniper. You look an awful lot like a certain Alliance commander out there. And you supposedly do business in the Terminus Systems. It's hard to believe."

"I can see why you feel that way. Do you think I've just appeared out of nowhere?"

"It's just all very convenient to me. Someone who doesn't know Shepard the way I do—well, they wouldn't notice a thing. I suppose that's probably the point. I'm not the target audience. Maybe someone like Donovan Hock, our host today. An infamous smuggler; a knockoff version of the Illusive Man. I know he killed someone with connections to Kasumi. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Knowing she'd found me out now, I gave her my best smile.

Aria softened at this sight of me. She laughed freely, freer than I'd ever seen of her. I felt those gentle intentions of hers, all from the way she touched my face, stroking. She had my smile right in her hand.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she teased. "Trying to pull a fast one like this. I always know who I'm dealing with. You should know better."

"I wanted to surprise you, Aria. That's all."

"Well, I appreciate the attempt. I never thought I'd say this—but you're incredibly sweet, and I enjoy it. You're a real charmer, too. When you want to be. No one's ever had the nerve to do that with me. But now I have to know—what are you doing here? I assume you're helping Kasumi out, aren't you?"

All these plants around, so many places to hide. I didn't want to risk anyone overhearing us.

Standing up, I buttoned my jacket back up, then offered my hand to her.

Delighted by me, Aria settled her hand over mine. She let me guide her over to the balcony. The sun had lowered through the sky, signaling the nearing dusk. A few ships and wind balloons traveled by, higher than any birds could reach. The other buildings nearby and out in the distance—some of them only just came up to the clouds, hazed by those mists of graying white. They tried and tried to compete with Hock's palace, standing as tall as they could. But those other locations just couldn't measure up.

All the while, I absorbed this novelty as much as I could. The unique markers of Aria's walk, how she sounded: those clean, crisp sounds of metal movements. Those buckles shifting along Aria's waist, holding up those straps of leather around her skin. Her fingerless gloves, the texture about them—Aria had clearly worn these for a long time, using them to kill her enemies over the years—choking them out or disintegrating them with her biotics. Aria's actual hand, the slight callouses over her fingers—she had oiled and moisturized these from her recent grooming, in getting ready to see me today. These centuries of memories here in her touch. Tempered for me, she let us have this tenderness, so impossible before.

At this overlook, I eased Aria closer to me, pulling her in. She let herself go with the movement. She settled into my arms, relaxing right away. Whatever tension she'd had before subsided. She sighed just against my shoulder. She relaxed more—breathing in this smell of my new cologne, moaning in a soft satisfaction. And I remembered my revelations from moments ago. I tightened my hold around Aria's waist, firm and firmer in my convictions. I didn't want to let her go. I didn't want to lose her, now that she'd given me this light, guiding me out of the darkness from before. Aria couldn't understand yet, but she let out a gasp of surprise. Not expecting this from me; enjoying it anyway. Maybe she needed it, too.

"Shepard," she murmured in my ear. The breaths she let out left my head so hazy. "You seem…different. Very different. Even from when I last saw you a few days ago. What's changed? Tell me. I want to know."

A lot more than I could explain with words. "I missed you."

"Hmm." Aria knew better, yet she smiled against me anyway. "A likely story."

"I'm serious," I insisted, pulling away enough to look at her properly.

"Well, I'm glad you made these changes. I didn't enjoy seeing the way you've been lately… I felt powerless to stop it. But I knew you had to make this decision on your own. I couldn't force you."

"Your patience actually helped a lot. I never would've expected that from you. I think you know why."

"Of course I know," accepted Aria, smoothing her hand down my chest, my structured black jacket. "Compared to you in your sharp suit, I almost feel normal. I tend not to deviate from my usual outfit."

"It's you, though. It's hot, it's fashion. I love the way it shows off your curves, your legs, how tall you are. That's iconic to me."

Aria smirked, holding back more. How enchanted she felt by me—soon her laughter trickled through. I knew she wasn't used to it. I knew she wasn't one to be this open. But she couldn't really hold it back. Wonderful as a game-changer. She inspired my own endless smile, enjoying her enjoyment.

But we had a lot more to do today.

I explained to Aria why I was here, what went on.

As expected, she picked up on everything right away, asking questions as needed.

As coincidental as our meeting was, Aria understood that I needed her for this mission.

She summarized: "So Kasumi will handle the greybox on her own. You have to get to Hock, find a way to get him alone. Then take him out. And you need my help. Of course I'm happy to do what I can."

Kasumi chimed in: "I was hoping you'd say that. Shep's not much of a talker. Not with strangers. But you should be able to handle it just fine, Aria. You know Hock's type. He already likes you. That's a big plus."

Aria scowled in annoyance. "Were you listening to us the whole time?"

"Hmm, you sound really angry, so I'll have to plead the fifth on that one."

"Whatever. Shepard, we should go find Donovan Hock, see what he's up to. I'm sure he's wandering around here somewhere, playing host. I last saw him across the way not too long ago."

"Good idea," I agreed. "We'll have to figure out a strategy from there. Let's keep an eye out."

In working together, Aria's role had doubled with me. My team member for the mission; my date for the party. We walked along together with a simple ease about us. She enjoyed me, the way I kept my arm around her waist the whole time. Aria threw her weight around in a certain way, knowing that so many people recognized her, recognizing us both together. They couldn't know that I was the real Commander Shepard. But these merc leaders and mob bosses were practically Aria's peers. Maybe they actually knew, knowing that Aria wouldn't waste her time on a mere copy.

Still, she seemed content to let them wonder.

This powerful presence about her felt downright magnetic.

Aria and I had attracted everyone's stares—including the one and only Donovan Hock.

We found him mingling with a group by the bar. The all-white suit he wore made him difficult to miss.

Hock turned away from his group immediately, finding us together.

"If it isn't the Pirate Queen of Omega!" charmed Hock with a smile, raising his wine glass in celebration. I couldn't really place his thick, rolling accent. "The famous and infamous Aria T'Loak has decided to grace our humble human colony. Bekenstein welcomes you warmly. And it would appear you're with the notorious Agent 47. The two of you make a lovely pair. I'm glad you were able to make it to the party."

Aria charmed him right back, subtly sour—"The pleasure's all mine. When you sent your invitation along, I couldn't resist the opportunity. I'm glad I took the chance. This is quite the palace."

"Ah, it isn't all perfect. I hear you've been accosted by a number of our esteemed Alliance guests. They've since been escorted from the property. Their unruliness hasn't soured your evening, I hope."

"There's always someone trying to come for people like you and me. We should be used to it by now."

Hock laughed a bit, genuinely impressed. "Yes, that's true. I'm glad you understand."

"Frankly," said Aria, "I'm surprised you decided to invite all of them. It's a ballsy move, opening your front door to so many impersonators. Is it really all for the fashion show, or is there something more?"

"I can't fault your curiosity running wild. Though it's mostly for the entertainment. What better way to celebrate the Met Gala than to honor the most powerful human in the galaxy? We all know she used to be a fashion model herself. There's no harm in sending a more extravagant message when possible."

"I see. What's the rest of the story, then?"

Grandstanding, Hock made a show of his speech. Soaking in the gaudy atmosphere of his palace, his riches, and his celebrity status, the man spread his arms wide. He walked in place as he spoke, failing to notice Aria's barely-concealed irritation. And he attracted such curious stares from the partygoers:

"People these days want comfort, entertainment, love. They don't see that the galaxy is fragile. They only have to worry about simple luxuries. Why? Because people like me—and you—are doing the terrible things that keep the galaxy spinning. This party is for us. The cleaners. The support structure for the galaxy's gleeful delusions of peace! May there always be a market for the things we do."

Completely missing the irony, all the people around started clapping.

Hock bowed his head to them, basking in their mindless praise and admiration.

Aria was this close to letting out a sound of disgust. At the very least.

Before she could explode, Hock let us know, "Enjoy the party, Aria. Agent 47. The two of you are free to look around as you please. Should you decide to attend the runway, you may of course sit with me."

Hock went back to conversing with his group; I guided Aria away from him, off to a secluded balcony.

Aria sneered. "I can't stand his kind. People like him, so convinced they know what's best for everyone. He's insane if he thinks he's some kind of Chosen One. Just because he's filthy rich. That pisses me off."

I remembered—"You weren't kidding when you called him a knockoff version of the Illusive Man."

"Oh, Hock wishes he had that type of power. I wouldn't be surprised if he was an agent for Cerberus."

Bekenstein as a whole seemed crawling with Cerberus lackeys. "Probably…"

I glanced over to a nearby scene. Outside, we found a structure extending from the palace itself. The long walkway with rows of seats for an audience—that definitely looked like the runway. A fashion show up in the air, up at these death-defying heights above the clouds… I couldn't imagine the fall. I already knew it was too high up for my Icarus Landing System. If I fell from that height, I was done. But the danger seemed to add to the spectacle. Aria and I noticed the congregation of people not too far away. They stared out at the runway location, eager to get out there and take their seats in the audience.

Inside the building, I saw what looked like a backstage entrance. A bunch of my lookalikes—as fashion models for the show—and the backstage crew passed through the door. Some Eclipse mercs stood at either side of the entrance, letting them all through. They let anyone in who looked like me, or who clearly belonged back there to help with setting everything up. Yet they turned away everyone else.

Aria curled her lips into such a devilish smirk.

"Babe. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Aria, no…"

"This is the only way," she insisted. "How else are you going to get to Hock alone with all this security?" Of course she had a point. "Do the show. Walk the runway. Hock will know you're the best one. He'll pick you, then you'll go upstairs. Take care of business and get the hell out. It's really that simple."

I still didn't like the sound of this. "Then what will you do?"

Aria almost sounded excited. "I'll sit with Hock myself. If possible, I'll make sure he picks you. Even better, I'll try to go with you two upstairs to his penthouse. That way there's no confusion whatsoever."

"Out of all these 'models,' you're going to know which one's me?"

"No doubt about it. Trust me, babe. I can pick you out from a sea of doppelgangers with ease."

Sure, I believed her…

Leaning closer, Aria whispered in my ear, encouraging: "Embrace your alter ego from your fashion days. I want to see you come alive as Sol again. Just this once. Let go and be free. All this stress you've been under, having to perform as Commander Shepard—to hell with it. I'm your date tonight, and this is what I want you to do. Show these wannabes how it's really done."

"Okay, fine," I accepted, if only to see her smile like this. "When this is all over, you and I should get out of here. Come out to dinner with me tonight. I'd like to show you a good time. Somewhere special."

Taken aback, Aria asked, "Do you mean that? Are you serious?"

"Aria, when am I not serious?"

She thought about it, realizing how silly her questions sounded.

I took my turn to ask, "What's going on? Why are you hesitating? I thought you'd be happy."

"No, I'm glad you asked…" Aria's memories flickered through her eyes. "I suppose this is difficult for me to admit. I've never just—gone to dinner with someone. As a date."

"But I thought you've had other girlfriends. Flings, whatever. People you've dated."

"Shepard, let's just say my relationships were never stable in the past."

Glancing over at the backstage entrance, I noticed we still had some time.

And Aria looked way too uncomfortable, despite her masks. I wanted to know more about her.

She rebuffed me anyway: "Let's not get into this, babe. Not now. I'll tell you over our date. Is that fair?"

I smiled. "Okay, that's fine."

"Good. You should get going. I'll go find Hock and sit with him during the show. Try not to break a leg."

"The human saying is that we're supposed to break a leg. Not our actual leg. I think it goes back to our earlier theater days. I can't remember the details."

"Well, it makes no sense and I refused to wish it on you. We're doing things my way. Take that as a hint."

Aria gave me a smile of her own, before heading back down the way. I watched that teasing sway of her hips as she went. I kept her hints in mind, making my way backstage for the show.

Being backstage brought back so many memories.

These crowds, this rushing, this chaos, this confusion that made perfect sense:

On autopilot, already, I knew exactly where to go. I followed the backstage crew, their yelled directions—they directed us to an area with holo-closets lining the walls. Each separated by short panes as some kind of privacy. Just some was more than enough, more than I was used to from these shows.

I claimed a holo-closet for myself. Registering it to me, I found a full wardrobe. Titled and numbered for the runway, the crew wanted us to put on each outfit in order, starting with the first one. I found a fine mix of menswear and more androgynous looks. Only the last outfit was a traditionally feminine gown—and a showstopper at that. I wasn't sure how Hock would be able to keep track of me, just because that final gown had nothing to do with the other outfits. But that was something for Aria to worry about.

So I went ahead and got changed. I switched out my current suit for an all-white one with a slimmer fit and heels, making me look much taller than I actually was. High-fashion, slightly conceptual in the cut and styling—someone had definitely designed this for me, non-traditional as it was, intent on making a statement. Meanwhile, the cacophony of noise backstage grew tenfold: the runway's pre-show music began playing outside. That fitting background music for fashion shows: a robust, textured deep house sound, popping in an experimental high energy. Thundering through the space inside, we had to deal with the dulled thudding of the sound system. The audience outside must've started gathering by now.

"Hey, Shep," said Kasumi. "You know, I'm happy you decided to go this route. I think it's great."

"Uh-huh. Something tells me you had this in mind all along."

"Could be. The runway organizers are streaming the show live on the extranet. The rest of the team may or may not be watching right now. They won't know you're here, though. Not unless they look closely."

"Why am I not surprised…"

"Break a leg out there. Well, not really. I agree with what Aria said earlier. It's such a silly saying."

Moving along to the next thing, the crew rushed us over to hair and makeup.

I sat down in my chair in front of a brightly-lit mirror. A whole team of artists stayed over me, buzzing around and getting everything ready. They bumped my hair with a flat iron—re-straightening it—before brushing and spritzing it out for a special shimmer for the show. At the same time, the makeup specialists put the bare minimum over my skin. Light eyeliner, light foundation, and the lightest possible mascara. They seemed pleasantly surprised, as they quickly realized I didn't need any detailed work. Nothing to create that illusion of Commander Shepard. But because there were just so many other Shepards around, none of the makeup people really looked at me twice, trying to figure me out. They hurried and did what they needed to do, glad that they could soon move on to the next person after me.

Then the crew hurried us over to the line. The long, long line of models just before the show started. Women, drag queens, everyone—so many humans had dressed up like me, more or less passing as my own mirror. And they all paid me no mind, assuming I was just like them. Blending in with ease, I listened to the backstage crew shout more directions: high energy walks down the catwalk to match the music, to match the desired tone for the whole show.

Our outfits exuded a strong sense of genderless couture—aside from a few traditional pieces to show off a chameleon-like quality of mine. Just from how I could easily slip into any gender whenever I wanted. Power, confidence, and fierce energy as a maverick—everything I was known for in the fashion world. Even though I wasn't a model anymore, they wanted to keep my legacy going, respecting the image and the reputation I'd carved out for myself.

If Hock didn't plan on making money off of my unauthorized face, this wouldn't have been so bad.

Glancing at the vid screen nearby, we all had a view of the audience outside. A near-endless crowd pooled out at either side of the runway. Gatherings of actual people in the industry—designers, models, influencers—who'd decided to skip the Met Gala in favor of this show instead. They all mingled together, with Bekenstein's golden sunset as their painted background. Right in the center, along the front row, Hock socialized with Aria more, introducing her to some well-known humans. Aria seemed less on-edge than she had been before, focusing on the industry people instead of Hock this time. They also seemed familiar with her, knowing that she knew me. So maybe I was the topic of their conversation.

Soon after, Hock stepped onto the runway, ready to start the show. The crowd offered their applause. I couldn't even hear a thing he said, caught up in my head all of a sudden. Wearing this all-white suit and these heels, I almost felt self-conscious. I couldn't remember the last time I'd worn heels. That whole mindset came rushing back to me. Having to hustle, having to fight for my livelihood—that was me back then, but it wasn't me anymore. Embracing my alter ego, this time, felt more like a favor. A favor for Aria, to please her. To thank her for the last mission. And to thank her ahead of time for all the rest.

The models at the front of the line started moving. They exited this space backstage, heading down the runway. Staggered times. Letting one walk for a few moments, soaking in the spotlight, before the next one of me followed. I found my turn much sooner than I'd expected. But the second I turned the corner, coming face-to-face with that golden dusk outside, I remembered. I switched my alter ego right back on.

Walking down the runway elevated me. Natural power, natural confidence. Second-nature by now.

If I didn't know any better, the crowd sounded louder with me around. They noticed more, reacted more, engaged more with me. Maybe they could tell, maybe they couldn't. As I passed by Aria sitting with Hock, right in the center of the front row, she kept her eyes to mine. That clear interest brightened her stare. She watched me pass her by, going on to the end of the runway, before turning around. As I walked back, again, Aria's eyes refused to leave me. She would only lean over to speak to Hock about it, the two of them watching me together; nodding in agreement about whatever it was they discussed.

I kept the illusion going. Changing outfits, getting back in line, walking the runway again, and earning that elevated applause. Repeating and repeating, but with freedom. This freedom of having Aria's undivided attention. My pleasure from her attention, I gave in my walk, entrancing everyone without meaning to. There were some other copies of mine who came close to what I gave. None of them could really compare. Aria knew it; maybe Hock did, too. That did dispel the illusion somewhat.

I had never enjoyed this for the attention, for the applause.

Aria made this special for me. Because I never would've done this without her. If she hadn't suggested it. If she had no desire to see this side of me again, then it would've been pointless. She curated her attentions and her high expectations for me. I wore her expectations with this final runway outfit: the showstopper as a long, black gown with a train flowing behind me. The plunging neckline automatically marked the vintage Versace look—and I had my hair touched-up appropriately, fanning out behind me as another train.

Walking down the runway for the second-to-last time, I stared across to the final dredges of the sunset. The crowd had no idea what I held inside, projecting only what I needed to succeed. Just how worried I still felt about the mission. Worried for my team; worried that I couldn't protect them on my own. With everything going on, I still had Aria in my corner. Without a doubt, she knew it was me. She watched me with this pride in her eyes, not once looking away. Having her attention as my companion—Aria gave me this buffer I needed, to do what I had to do. To get through this runway—to make this final lap with all the other models, for one last round of applause before the end.

I couldn't do this without her: the runway, the mission.

So used to getting things done on my own.

But I was at my limit—it stared me down with an intensity this audience could never conjure.

I realized I couldn't keep carrying these burdens alone anymore.

At the end, Kasumi praised me, "That was pretty fierce, Shep. Glad you've still got it."

Just as well, I couldn't finish this mission today without Aria's help. We all lined the runway for this final evaluation. For Donovan Hock to make his decision; to pick out the best impersonator among us. But thanks to Aria, the choice lacked any pointless suspense. She picked me out of the crowd with ease. This little secret carried us along. We accompanied Hock up through his palace, up to the penthouse area at the very top. Keeping this illusion as best as we could, we had every intention of ruining it soon enough.

The novelty of holding Aria's hand while I wore this last outfit from the runway.

The sights we witnessed of this palace, reaching the topmost area as the sunset died.

The unspoken we shared, holding so much over Hock, oblivious as he was—for the most part.

The three of us arrived to a courtyard leading to the penthouse. Two narrow, rounded walkways converged toward the main entrance, where a few Eclipse mercs stood guard. Surrounding the walkways was a thin body of water glimmering with the last dredges of the day's sunlight.

As we passed along this path, Hock seemed to notice something. Something of our energy together.

"How uncanny," he said, eyeing Aria with me. "The two of you have quite an energy together. It seems real. Authentic. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the two of you were the real thing."

Aria glanced at me, signaling enough. "The real thing, you say?"

"Yes… The crowd out there went wild for her. You're clearly enamored with her as well. And if I know you, Aria, you wouldn't waste your time on a mere imitation. Is there something going on here?"

Hock stopped in his tracks. He turned to regard us, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Kasumi relayed, "Guess that's the end of the charade. I've already got everything I need. You can take care of him however you'd like. I'll make sure no one downstairs manages to find out."

Paranoia slipping through, Hock took a few steps back toward his guards.

Completely vulnerable without my weapons, I did the only thing I could.

I gave the order: "Aria."

Aria smirked freely, biotics glowing. "Oh, this should be fun."

Hock took off running inside the housing area.

Before his guards could even react, Aria raced ahead, disintegrating them in her wake.

Walking through Hock's penthouse, gown flowing behind me, heels clicking along the fine flooring, I basked in this next layer of novelty. I followed after the sounds of Hock's enraged yelling. I followed after Aria's trail of destruction behind her. She antagonized him and his Eclipse mercenaries the whole way, taking her maddened joy and enjoyment where she could. All the while, she completely wrecked the place. Corpses smoking from biotic blasts, craters left behind from the force of Aria's power, broken furniture and shattered windows. Aria had turned Hock's living area into a full-on slaughterhouse. Meanwhile, Kasumi overrode Hock's continued attempts to trigger his alarm systems. No one came to help him. No backup, no law enforcement, nothing. We had him cornered like this.

I arrived to Hock's master bedroom just in time.

Aria used her biotics to toss him straight out the window.

Out he went down the side of the building, screams echoing as he fell through the clouds to his death.

"That was easy," said Aria, sounding pleased with herself.

"I'll say," agreed Kasumi. "Thanks for handling this for me. I had a feeling you'd throw him out like that."

"Poetic justice," I noted, finding Hock's holo-closet nearby. "I'm changing out of this gown. Aria, see what you can find on his computer. Might be something valuable we can learn from his emails."

"That's true. I'll take a look."

As I changed back to my all-black suit and shoes, Aria sat down at Hock's desk. It didn't take long for her to hum in curiosity, having discovered something already.

"Find anything yet?" asked Kasumi.

"This is…interesting. Looks like Hock was in contact with someone from the Citadel. One of your human politicians—Ambassador Udina. I think you know him, Shepard."

I hadn't heard that name in a long time. "Yeah, he tried to cross me a few years back. Didn't work out too well for him. What did Hock want from Udina?"

"Hock tried to lobby the ambassador. He wanted Udina to take over Anderson's spot on the Council. Something about giving humanity more of an edge in galactic politics. Went so far as to offer Udina a supposedly fool-proof way to take over. Basically trying to goad Udina into a coup. But Hock wasn't able to convince him. This last draft is an unsent email for Udina, offering help from Cerberus for the coup. He never finished the draft, of course. So we'll never know what Udina's response might have been."

"That's pretty worrying. I don't think Hock would've mentioned Cerberus unless he had permission. I always suspected he might've been an agent for them. Not sure how I feel knowing the truth now."

"We put a stop to it," I stated. "Hock's done. Cerberus won't be using Udina to take over the Citadel."

Aria still stared at the computer screen in a quiet rage.

She remembered what could've happened to us on that Collector ship.

"Come on, Aria," I said, offering my hand to her. "Let's get out of here." She took my hand, letting me lead her back through the carnage she'd caused. "Kasumi, we should meet up outside. Where it's safe."

"Sure thing, Shep. I'll send you the coordinates. It's nighttime now, so we'll have some extra cover."

One last time, Aria and I passed through the spectacles of this palace. Night skies outside embellished the light inside. These high-society people carried on like nothing happened. They enjoyed their champagne and conversation, completely oblivious to all that had gone on upstairs. No one paid us any mind, letting us blend in with them one final time. As romantic as this place seemed, though, I wanted nothing more to do with the building at all. Moving on for the night and taking Aria someplace else, somewhere better and far-removed from these memories—this I could do.

Even though she seemed privately anxious over the prospect, as unused to this treatment as she was. Alleviating that anxiety, I just wanted to show her what she'd missed out on with me. I wanted to know what I had missed out on with her. Not so much starting over with someone new. Continuing from where we should've started a long time ago, just as securely as her hand felt intertwined with mine.

We met Kasumi at a convenient location: a mall-like center packed with high-end shops and restaurants. These pearl-white walkways lit by the moonlight and warm lighting all around; the palace-like buildings brimming with a similar romance from the palace earlier. Off in the distance, several couples walked around, carrying their shopping bags with designer brands. It all reminded me of Fashion Valley back in my hometown—that luxurious mall I had taken Ashley to way back when. This was all so very convenient from Kasumi, because I had planned on taking Aria here anyway. The restaurant I had in mind was already in my sights. I had to keep myself from looking over at it too much, in case I gave myself away. Aria paid special attention to me. Trying to gather as much information beforehand as she could. But I still wanted to at least attempt a surprise with this. Her hyper-attentiveness made my plans difficult.

Shadowed more in the night, Kasumi greeted us. "You made it. Didn't take you long to find the place."

"Not at all," I humored. "You mentioned you found your partner's greybox. Are you all set, then?"

"Yep, I'm good to go. I did want your opinion on something. But it can wait until later."

"What did you need my opinion on?"

"I'd like to spend some time with Keiji's greybox first. Making up my mind on what to do with it. I'll ask you about it once you're free. I'm heading back to Hock's palace for now."

"Why?" I asked. "Is there more you still need to take care of?"

"On my own. I'll head up to the penthouse; clean up any evidence the two of you might've left behind. I might even take a few more of Hock's belongings for myself. You know me. It's just what I do for fun."

Kasumi's intentions seemed much deeper than that. I didn't want to put her on the spot, though.

She sensed my sensing, giving me a certain smile over it.

"Have a good night, you two. I'm sure it'll be one to remember."

Kasumi slipped back off into the night, leaving us to ourselves.

Aria glanced around the mall, as if self-conscious of a sudden. She didn't seem like herself. More than never going out to dinner with anyone, it looked to me like she had never been out on a date, period.

I guided her over to another area removed from shoppers and other passersby. This place lit up in the night, lights dazzling from the hotels just across the street. Aria took special note of the fountain nearby: thin jets of water shooting up in the air in formation, like art as water, inspired by the same in Las Vegas.

We sat down at a bench with a view of the scene, across from the body of still water connected to the displays. I unbuttoned my suit jacket before sitting right next to her this time. As soon as she felt me beside her, Aria crossed her long legs out of habit. She pointed her boot the other way, opposite me. I did the same. We mirrored each other in this way. Aria still gave off a lot of heat against me. Her body felt so warm. Warmer still once I held her hand again. She stiffened her palm at first, down to her wrist.

I had to ask her, "Are you scared?"

Aria let out an uneven breath.

"If you're worried about me hurting you, I understand. You've been through a lot."

"It isn't that," she willed herself to say. "You can hurt me all you want. I can take it. But only under certain conditions."

"How would you be okay with that?"

Aria explained, "It's what we talked about before. No wandering eyes. I don't want you even thinking about other women while you're with me. You gave me your word that you wouldn't. I don't want you going back on that. I couldn't handle it if you did."

"I said I'm not turning back. I'm not attached to anyone else anymore. Was that not enough for you?"

"No, Shepard," she soured. "It wasn't. It's still not enough."

The warm lights surrounding us, the pointed moonlight overhead, and the contrast of this blackest night—they all shined a specific spotlight. The looming history of Aria's trust issues—those shadows had darkened her scowl, the violet linings of her strong brow. Intensely beautiful, painfully fucking beautiful, Aria projected her truest fears through this stalwart silence. I saw exactly what she stared at in the imagined distance. I caught her real focus on what she needed from me.

"Aria, I'm not in love with her anymore."

"…how is that possible?"

In choosing to put our team first, I had let go of that love. But I knew that now wasn't the right time to tell her.

"There are a lot of reasons. I'd rather save the main ones for later. What it comes down to is—she doesn't share my values. I think she spent a lot of time pretending like she did. But it wasn't true. When I found out…it just soured the whole experience. I was in love with the person I wanted her to be. Her best self. Principled, loyal, honest, hard-working, dependable. You could say I believed in her too much."

Aria gave me an incredulous look. "And you think I actually share your values?"

"I think you did a long time ago. You're getting back to what you believed in the past. You and I don't have to see eye to eye on everything. We're both willing to learn from each other. That's what matters."

"Well, that makes me wonder. When I inevitably show you my worst self, will you put your foot down?"

Not understanding, I tilted my head to one side. "Didn't you already say you're not that person anymore? With Liselle. How you treated her before. How you treated everyone before. That was it, wasn't it? You've decided to move on and better yourself. You're making an effort. I really respect that."

Aria smiled at me, adoring. "The moral of the story is…I'm trying to improve myself where your exes did not. Is that it?" Simple and simplistic, I nodded. "That makes a lot of sense. I fell into those bad habits because I lost hope. I'm surprised you haven't. You're…giving us a chance. I wasn't expecting you to."

"It feels right," I shared. "If I just assumed you'd hurt me like everyone else, that wouldn't be fair. So I'm not going to ignore this. I just have to know what's on your mind. If you're uncomfortable about anything else."

"It's nothing new. Just the whole…feelings thing. Expressing my emotions. Being vulnerable like this. This is what I can't stand—but it's also why I feel so strongly for you. I can't get away from it."

"I understand what you're saying. I only want you to know… You don't have to smile for me to know how you feel. You don't have to be affectionate. You don't have to do any of those typical things. I don't expect any of that from you, either. I accept you the way you are. Just like you've done for me."

Such a bright pleasure glowed in her eyes. "Okay then."

I beamed my own right back at her. "Okay."

Aria declared, "Anyway, enough about that. Where are you taking me? I'm curious."

"It's a Japanese restaurant. Narisawa. The original one back on Earth is pretty famous."

"Famous, you say? How famous is it?"

"One of the best restaurants in the world famous."

Unable to help herself, Aria smiled anew. "You know just how to treat a woman, don't you? This is new for me—to say the least. But I'm willing to go with the flow for once. I'm used to setting the agenda."

"Well, I'm still wondering why no one's ever asked you out on a date."

"It's not that no one's ever asked. I've just never said yes. Until you came along."

"And you've never taken the lead yourself? Taken someone out to somewhere you had in mind?"

"I could have," she conceded. "But I didn't want to. Didn't see the appeal. I wasn't much of a romantic. That's not how I operated in the past. My relationships were about sex and ownership and little else. The whole concept of spending time together, sharing my life with someone…it didn't compute for me."

"What exactly are you used to, then?"

"We'll discuss it over dinner, babe. Let's head over now. I want to see what this place is about."

Everything should have been ready for us by now.

So I walked with Aria to the restaurant, hoping for the best.

As we approached the exterior of the building, the black and white color palette mixed with soft golds, she seemed surprised. No one else was in the area. No other people walking about; no other couples coming or going. No one even stood around in the forest-like area nearby, nature on full-display to match the restaurant's menu and philosophy. Aria kept expecting someone else to show up. She didn't at all expect us to have the place to ourselves. And even once I did open the door for her, letting Aria walk through first, the reality was slow to sink in. Slow and steady and serene:

Aria stopped in her tracks. The short heels of her boots scuffed over the black hardwood floor. Intimacy of our surroundings: not a single soul around except for us. No noise or sounds except for the gentle mood-setting music playing at a low volume, upping the ambiance. The pure white of the walls and the ceiling stood just for us. The chocolate brown of the wine cabinets and far walls remained just for us. The soft lighting from the ceiling, the extra white of the tablecloths, the squared comfort of the chairs all around—just for us. Aria stared at everything in such a quiet awe. Disbelieving. Not wanting to believe, not able to believe. But I knew without a doubt: I had made the perfect first impression with all of this.

Even more, I guided Aria farther inside the building. Across the way, near our designated Spectre seating by the windows, another, longer table took up the length of the wall. Aria truly couldn't believe—that longer table held a full display of each meal on the menu tonight. Small portions of decorative seafood, finer traditional Japanese cuisines, foods and desserts styled after nature. Salmon roe, beef sirloin, boiled shrimps, dried sea snake. Avant-garde in design. Wines, champagnes, chocolate espressos, Japanese sake. Breathless in execution. Perfecting the whole thing, that view outside the windows sealed the deal: the luxury of the rest of the colony glittering across the skyline. Off in the far distance, Donovan Hock's palace stood tall in this late of night, despite everything. Those warm lights spanning the downtown area, showing off the loud and expensive evenings plenty of other people shared out there. None of that could compare to this quiet here, our emotions understated.

Aria seemed at a loss for words.

So I asked her, gently, "What's asari cuisine usually like? Is it anything like this?"

She found her voice, just as understated. "It is… We tend to favor light portions. Eating them one at a time until we've had enough. Maybe once or twice a day. Not your huge meals three times a day like most humans are used to. I'm not sure why I expected to find that here. This is…quite the surprise."

"Well, you're free to pick out what you want. We'll order it at our table. Whatever you're hungry for."

Reflexively, Aria licked her lips shimmering in this light. "I'm glad I decided not to eat anything earlier. For some reason, I haven't had much of an appetite lately. I'm having trouble figuring out the problem."

"That might be my fault," I explained. "I only need to eat once a day or so. It's from the implants I have. The same with sleeping. I don't have to sleep unless I want to. I think I'm sharing the effects with you."

"No wonder. It'll make things easier for tonight." Aria leaned closer to one of the meals on display. The unique presentation no doubt caught her eye—and her concern. But it was all part of the show, the fantasy. "Shepard, is that seafood…smoking on the plate? It doesn't look like it's on fire. What is this?"

"Scene of the seashore. That's a piece of cooked squid in the center. It's not actual smoke. Just lemon juice and olive oil mixed with liquid nitrogen. We can try it if you want."

"Yes, I want to try it," she decided.

"All right, then. What would you like to drink?"

"Hmm, this is a Japanese place, so I'd like to start off with the sake. I've never tried it before. I've heard good things about it. After that, we can have whatever goes best with the squid. I'll leave that to you."

"Sounds good."

Aria looked around at the rest of the food.

I pre-empted her worries: "The restaurant staff will pack everything else away. They'll take it to your ship, if you want. The meals, the desserts, the alcohol—it's all yours. Say the word and I'll arrange it."

"You're going to spoil me rotten, babe. But I accept. Gladly."

Heading over to our table, I helped Aria sit down in her seat first. She watched me take off my suit jacket, that hint of intrigue glinting in her eye. Glinting even more was the dazzle from the nighttime views, with Bekenstein on full display through the nearby windows. By the time I took my own seat just next to her, Aria still couldn't look away from me. I ordered our sake anyway, wondering about her.

"Something on your mind?" I asked, collecting the bottle lifted to the table.

"You've impressed me, Shepard," said Aria. "That doesn't happen. At all. I'm used to it by now."

I poured her sake into the wide porcelain cup. "Well, this is what I do. I take it seriously."

She watched me pour my own cup. "I honestly feel like this is some kind of fever dream."

"Why?"

"I don't know…" Tentative, Aria tried the alcohol. I spotted her smile forming along the ring of her cup. "Isn't this how first dates are always supposed to be? I'm caught up in the moment. In a good way."

This clean taste, slightly sweet, rich and lovely, unique.

I loved watching Aria as I drank this sake, finding her enjoyment brimming right through her skin.

"So everyone else before me," I prompted. "Did you assume they weren't able to impress you?"

"It wasn't just an assumption. They were incapable. I wouldn't say it was from a lack of trying. For some reason, nothing ever landed with me. Nothing stuck, nothing moved me like this. Nowhere close. They would write me letters and poetry. They would surprise me with tickets to some fabulous venue. They would ask me for a wild night out. I always turned it down. I couldn't tell you what the problem was."

I had a hard time imagining the asari councilor failing to impress her.

Unless Aria only meant her other exes like Nyreen.

But even after giving me those tidbits, Aria seemed completely removed from the past. She drank her sake with an air of relaxation, truly enjoying herself. Nearly everything that had happened throughout her six centuries of life so far—none of it mattered to her. So I took the opportunity to go ahead and order our food. This time our two blackened, concave plates raised up from below: illusions of ash smoking and misting already over the perfectly-cooked squid concealed in the center. Curious as ever, Aria stared down at her plate as I brought it over to her, utterly fascinated by the whole thing.

"Try it," I offered.

While she sampled the novelty, I picked out the best wine pairing. Normally I would mind a Sauvignon Blanc on my first date with someone else. But as the bottle of golden white wine emerged, I didn't automatically associate it with the past. This Sancerre had a reputation as the so-called fancy Sauvignon Blanc—and Aria noticed, eyeing the bottle as she tried her dinner. That succulent smile on her face this time spoke volumes.

"Something tells me you approve."

"Mm-hmm. As if you needed my confirmation. This squid is very—rich."

"This wine will cut some of the richness," I mentioned, pouring her glass first, as always. "The taste is more dry and flinty. Should be a nice balance."

Aria approved once again, savoring: "French wine at a Japanese restaurant. Your species is certainly diverse. Much more diverse than mine. Thessia and our colonies are too homogenous in terms of culture and variety. My kind are all the same, whereas your people have all sorts of unique differences."

"It's a strength and a weakness, I'd say."

While we ate together, Aria asked me to tell her more about human culture. I explained about our different languages, our international appeals across Earth and most of our colonies—Bekenstein included. She sounded almost envious of our breadth of experiences compared to the asari. I felt comfortable around anyone from anywhere; but she and every one of her people grew up expecting to conform to one set of ideals and mandates, no matter where they were from. That element of freedom always prevailed with Aria, needing to break free and do her own thing. I felt like I understood her more.

She seemed most fascinated by the language barrier between us—how we technically couldn't speak to one another without our translation programs.

"Shepard, when you say my name…what does it translate to?"

I smiled over the coincidence. "It's funny you're a dancer. Aria is an Italian word—and it's a music term."

"Oh, really? And what does the music term mean?"

"You could say it's a romantic type of song in an opera. Beautiful, melodic, emotional. On its own, the word just means 'air.' The wind around us. That natural appeal."

Aria soaked in the meaning. "Italian, hm? Have you ever been to Italy before?"

"Yes, for Venice Fashion Week. I've walked the runway a few times. I'd like to go back someday."

Something of what I said had Aria stuck in her head. More than just thoughtful, contemplative.

Not about Fashion Week. But about her name. Maybe my emphasis on the emotions of her source.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

Aria retrieved her wine, sipping more of that golden ecstasy. She bored her eyes into mine. Studying. Wondering. Wanting. Bekenstein's lights and sights glowed against her irises, reflecting the entire colony outside, everywhere. Slightly buzzed from the alcohol already, she basked in that pleasant feeling, basking in me much more. Whatever I gave her in this moment seemed to ignite that buzz tenfold.

So intense as she said—"You're very reliable, you know. I need that from you."

"Hmm, why do you say it like that?"

"Because…I'm beginning to understand the past. What I was. Why no one could ever get through to me. I had convinced myself to not let anyone close. Not necessarily out of fear. I just had a strong feeling they weren't good enough for me. Maybe I did have an inflated sense of self. Doesn't matter. What does matter is that I was right in the end, every time."

"I remember you said your relationships were mainly about sex and ownership. Is that part of it?"

"Yes, it was," confirmed Aria. "Things didn't always start out that way. I would usually be open to trying. Whatever the hell that meant. But once they started disappointing me, I would flip that switch. Mostly to protect myself while I watched the situation, waiting things out. When that happened, I couldn't really stop the outcome. I treated my partners as my pawns. They did my bidding as I pleased. That's all they were good for. Once they stopped being useful, I threw them away. I stopped caring. That was it."

"Considering how cutthroat your life is on Omega, I'm not surprised."

"Well, it had less to do with Omega and more to do with how unstable I am."

"What do you mean?" I worried.

Aria struggled to admit, "Shepard, when it comes to relationships, I'm all-or-nothing. I never had the freedom to go all the way with someone, emotionally. There was always some disappointment. Always some recurring arguments or frustrations; some other problems holding me back. So when I couldn't give my all, I ended up giving nothing instead. That nothing quickly spun into disinterest, indifference. Boredom. Dehumanization. Sometimes hatred. Then there was no going back from that point. Never."

"I get what you're saying. I'm more or less the same. Are you anxious about that happening with us?"

"No," she said immediately.

"How not?"

Aria went quiet.

She left the rest to my imagination.

That reminded me: "If that's the case, how do you want to handle this? The long-distance thing."

"It's only a temporary situation," replied Aria, subtle sorrows simmering. "I'll be aboard the Normandy full-time during the Reaper invasion. That's what we agreed on before."

Even though that was true, I sensed her flexibility with this.

If I didn't know any better, she seemed to want more.

Aria wanted me to ask for more, to confess what I actually wanted. As if all I had to do was ask. As if she measured my interest in her in my willingness to ask, to share my truest wants and desires, no matter how impossible or implausible they may have seemed. This gravity in her stare spoke as much to me.

"Aria…"

She smiled far and wide. "Hmm?"

I took the chance—"Listen, I know what you have going on with Omega. That's your home, that's your life. I was just wondering…if you could join up with us sooner. On the Normandy." Aria leaned forward, toward me, wanting me to sate her endless curiosities. "Minus the obvious offenders, the team are all very interested in you. They look up to you. They'd like to have you around for the rest of the mission."

"So, does this mean you also want me with you for the final assault? On the Collector homeworld."

"Yes…if you're able to join us. More than just the team, I want you with us, too. I want you with me. By my side."

"Well, I can't say no to that," she declared. "All you had to do was ask. Of course I'll join you sooner."

"Really?" I asked, barely holding back my surprise, my excitement.

"Yes, really. To be honest, this is a good opportunity. I can set up the infrastructure for my people to hold down the fort on Omega while I'm gone. Starting earlier will only be an advantage. I'll be able to handle my operations remotely, leaving my main players in charge: Bray, whom you've met; Jarral, my militia captain; and Ahz, my tech specialist. I can easily set everything up over the next few weeks."

"'Easily'?" I echoed. "I thought you didn't have the means to join me sooner."

Aria seemed amused by my perfect memory. "Babe, you know better. That was code for 'I want you to beg for it.' You weren't in the right state of mind for that. You've given me what I wanted. We're good."

That made sense… "Well, that time frame will work out for us. Mordin will be done with his game by then. Let's meet on the Citadel once everything's ready. Then you can come aboard the ship with us."

"I'd like that a lot. Works for me. Until then, we'll keep speaking like we've been doing."

After a while longer of talking and drinking, the alcohol almost got to me. This pleasant feeling had me buzzed, mostly gentle and mostly harmless. Aria could have taken advantage. She could've made me forget my stance; made me set aside my principles about taking my time, respecting her. As we left the restaurant, it seemed like she was on that edge. I was on one figurative wavelength, reminding Aria that the restaurant's staff would deliver all that food and alcohol to her ship. She was on another wavelength, wrapping her arms through mine closest to her—with that specific intention in mind. All those fine hotels across the street mocked my self-control, temptations tugging at my libido, hard.

I made myself walk Aria back to her ship anyway.

Besides, Kasumi needed to see me soon. I had promised to touch base with her about the mission…

I couldn't do that if I lost myself between Aria's legs tonight.

Working overtime as the devil, she whispered in my ear: "So then…no fucking on a first date? Is that your policy, Commander?"

Immediately my mind went back to Eden Prime, seeing her off after that mission.

Buried and heavily suppressed—how badly I wanted to press Aria up against her ship, taking her then.

I told her instead, "It is my policy… Besides, it's not just about fucking you."

That sultry smirk of hers against me—"Then what is it about, Shepard? Tell me. Don't hold back." As we neared her ship, I refused to answer. Aria laughed in an amused languor, loving my silence. "Remember what I said. Whenever you go quiet like this, it sends my imagination running wild. And it gets me off, every time. Whenever you say nothing, you end up saying a lot more. Much more. You have no idea…"

Aria's vessel greeted us in a similar silence. Waiting for her. Just like last time.

Aria herself turned to me, expecting something. Anything more from me.

She settled on teasing me again, breathing against my neck. "Take this with you, then. As a gift from me. Something to think about. Because every time I call you, or you call me, I get the same cravings. When I'm alone in my room, and all I have is the sound of your deep voice as my company…it does things to me. You don't even realize it. That makes it all worse." Aria gripped my hands, making me grip her hips; making her point; tempting, tempting—"You make my hands go right between my legs. Every single time. Without fail. Sometimes I end up muting you because I have to touch myself. I can't wait any longer. I need you inside of me then and there. You have so much power over me…and you have no idea."

This haze in Aria's eyes, fully erotic and fully dangerous—

Our unconscious experiences from Insomnia merged with this real life moment.

"You say that…but we haven't even kissed yet. How do you know?"

Aria grabbed me by my shoulders. She made me push her back against this side of her ship. Magnetism, her powerful allure—Aria pulled me right into her. Impatience and intransience both filled me from her full lips. Dominating me through her submission, bending to me as much as she bent me over her. Those emotions from her kept pulling at me and pulling, yanking me all the way down this slope with her, head-first. No control whatsoever. All I could do was grip Aria's body, as she wanted. All I knew was whatever she wanted, as I gave to her. She sped us down this slope faster and faster the deeper I tasted her tongue in my mouth: unobtrusive, but still filling and filling, tasting endlessly of the sake and golden wine that buzzed us so.

Losing my mind, it all slipped out of my control.

Losing my composure, I burned my palms around Aria's waist and her back, reeling from her reactions.

Every single sound she made had me sweating. Drenched and delirious from all this last-minute control I dredged up, trying not to fuck her this second. Aria had the nerve to enjoy this. She smirked as her invitation, making me fall into her more, falling for her harder, harder, harder. She even lifted her long leg, draping it around me, wrapping and clutching and needing in that natural elegance of hers, so erotic. I didn't mean to do it—I grabbed her ass anyway, making her react more, all in her pleasured passion. My mind just kept slipping away, slipping and slipping as I shot right down this rollercoaster with no end in sight. Constantly descending down into Aria's endless void, but with nothing to fear.

Aria held me securely around my shoulders.

She wouldn't let anything terrible happen to me. Despite her maddened thrills from my losses, I felt the way she kept me close, steadfast and stable past our shared instability.

Aria's words seemed to contradict her touch: "It's really cute—how you think you can be in control around me. That part of you ends tonight. I warned you earlier…we're doing things my way. I meant every word of it. But I'll be nice and let you keep your policy about sex, about choosing to respect me. If you make me wait too long, though, I'll just have to take matters into my own hands." She somehow kept me safe in this unknown. The gloss of the moonlight shining over her lips was my only light in this tunnel. In between our pain and press, laboring to breathe, pressing against each other, Aria made herself clear: "I'm fucking crazy about you, Shepard. You're mine now. I'm not letting you go. There's no turning back. None whatsoever. We're riding this out together. Wherever it takes us. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Aria. I understand."

This unilateral decision of hers just pulled me in more. I should've stopped it. I should have pulled the alarm, triggering that mind-wide emergency. Any other time, I would have. Somehow, Aria had ripped all the alarms clear off the walls in my head. She had yanked them away in this current of her madness. Barely hinged enough to keep us from fucking against the side of her ship. It was just that way I could feel Aria's heart beating out of her chest, knocking on the black of her breastplate under her jacket.

Breathing as hard as I did, Aria pressed her hands to my shoulders.

She eased me away, not as a rejection, but as a reminder. She made me stand back up properly. She reminded me that I had in fact asked to take this one day at a time. She wanted us to take those days in-sync with one another, together as a couple. I wanted the same; I couldn't say no to that. Aria caught her breath with this reminder, watching me watch her. Absorbed by her, engorged of her, I didn't know anything else. She was thoughtful enough to fix my suit. Readjusting my tie. Combing my hair with her hands. Smoothing down my collar, the lapel of my jacket, with her touch as caring and gentle as I needed.

That typical ice cold of Aria's stare thawed more as she asked, "Do you feel safe with me, Shepard?"

I nodded in a wide-eyed honesty.

Aria smiled fondly, stroking the sweat from my face. "You're too precious." She revealed this extra heat reddening beneath my skin: her treasure beneath the sand. Reaching over, she kissed this red of me, mirroring her familiar goodbye: "I'm heading back to Omega now. Give me a call tomorrow. Until then, you'll be on my mind. I'll see you around, babe. Toward the end of this month on the Citadel for sure."

Speechless again, just like last time, I could only watch as Aria took her leave. I stepped back and away from her vessel. This time, Aria at least glanced at me over her shoulder—before disappearing inside her ship. And I watched the machinery take her up to Bekenstein's night sky, taking her off and away. And I prayed for Aria's ship to get her home safely. Wishing on that star, I needed her to be okay. Always.

Back on the Normandy, I returned to normalcy. I went up to the command deck. I used the galaxy map to leave Bekenstein. But this normal felt too different now. Like I had walked into some other dimension without Aria in it, without her next to me. I stood at the galaxy map for the longest, staring at this image of the Milky Way, as if I could pinpoint Omega's exact location near the center. Eventually I got tired of my crew staring at me from the bridge. Whether it was my clothes or my mood—or both—they had never seen me like this before.

I left for the crew deck instead, intent on finding Kasumi in her room. Predictably, I passed by Liara and Tali leaving the mess hall together. They stopped in their tracks and stared. Moody as I already was, they weren't helping. I just acted like I couldn't see them, heading straight toward the port observation room.

Kasumi sat on her couch as usual, gazing out the window.

Next to her she had Keiji's greybox. Keeping her company.

"Hey, Kasumi," I said, getting her attention. "You still wanted to see me?"

"Of course," she replied. "It was really cool of you to take Aria out like that. Narisawa, too. One of the best restaurants in Tokyo, and in the world back home. You definitely know your stuff."

"I'm guessing you had your fill in the kitchen at some point."

Kasumi managed to smile. "I'll leave that up to your imagination."

"Figures," I answered, letting it slide. "So…your partner's greybox. You said it has all of his memories. Is there some version of him inside? Did you take a look?"

"That's the thing… I'm too scared to look. I feel like if I do, I'll never want to stop. I'll never want to leave him. Even though he's not actually in there. He's not real in there. Keiji knew I'd have this problem. When he started putting his memories inside, he warned me. He warned me not to make him my anchor—in case the worst happened. Now that the worst is here, I don't know what to do."

"What did he want you to do instead?"

"He wanted me to destroy his greybox if he wasn't around anymore. No greybox, no anchor."

I didn't understand. "But why do you think I have the answers you need?"

Kasumi told me in such sadness, "You're an expert at letting people go, that's why. You've always pulled it off whenever it suited you. Whenever it was the best thing to do. You're not walking around the ship moping over you-know-who. Instead, you're living your best life with Aria, not giving a damn about anyone else. I wish I had that quality of yours. Feels like I'll need a miracle to let Keiji go at this point."

Seeing the seriousness of Kasumi's issue, I sat down on the couch, just near enough to her.

She smiled a little more over the gesture. I knew she needed more than that from me.

"Kasumi, I think you're selling yourself short. There's a big difference between Keiji and my exes."

She tried to make a joke, "Your exes were all women?"

I laughed a bit. "No, not that. Keiji never broke your heart. He never betrayed you, lied to you about something important. He never chose something or someone else over you. Or am I wrong here?"

"You're…completely right," she realized. "We were partners through-and-through. I was the real romantic between us. Always willing to take more risks when I knew he had my back. When I lost him, it was like losing a limb. The thought of letting him go…it seems impossible."

"And I've never had that. I've never had a love like that before. Whenever I thought I did, reality ended up slapping me in the face. I had a way out every time. It isn't fair to compare yourself to me."

"Too true."

Kasumi's silence seemed loaded with words unspoken.

I asked her, "What is it?"

"Shepard, after all you've been through—do you think it's possible? Is it possible for you to have that kind of love? Maybe with someone unexpected like Aria. I think you deserve it. Both of you deserve it."

"Yes, I do think it's possible. With Aria, absolutely."

"In that case, do you think I should find someone else? Or should I hold onto my memories of the past?"

I looked to Keiji's greybox next to her.

"That depends," I said. "Could you be happy on your own, so to speak, with your memories of him?"

Kasumi gave a self-assured nod.

Taking the greybox in my hand, I placed it over her lap. "Then keep Keiji with you. If you decide to let him go down the line, do it when you're ready. There's no rush."

Lowering her hooded head, she nodded again, barely holding back her emotions.

I spent a while longer with Kasumi, talking her through the rest. I listened to her stories about Keiji, their heists together. Everything she said only reaffirmed my choices, her choices. Everything she talked about—taking those risks, knowing her partner had her back—it all reminded me of Aria, of these changes we had made lately. This change in course inspired an idea in me: to go to Insomnia again, sometime after the simulation game on the Citadel. And I wanted to go alone this time. I wanted to see if anything had changed after this whole upheaval lately. I wanted to make sure everything was still in its right place. And if it wasn't, then I wanted to get used to my new reality, finally embracing this fine chaos.