Morgan. She couldn't believe it. She had had on her list to track down the traitorous son of a bitch and put a bullet in his head. She had merely hoped she'd be able to find him while taking care of the Collectors. The man was like a bad penny, as the saying went. Always turning up. But to have Jack, of all people, drag him into the ship with her? She hadn't expected that in a million years. Just how the hell did he do it? How did he always stick his nose in her business?

And how had he managed to get Miranda, of all people, to give a flying headcrab about him?

"So what about Morgan?" Shepard said, looking at the Cerberus operative. They were in the penthouse, as she had called the cabin, and while Shepard was sitting down, she had made Miranda stand. "And who told you?"

"Shepard," Miranda said with a light chuckle. "My cabin is across the medbay. I could hear you without even having to open the door."

"Right," Shepard replied, her voice clipped. "So?"

"I'm trying to understand what happened, Shepard. That's all," Miranda replied, trying to keep a neutral tone. As per usual, it didn't sound as if she cared one way or another.

"Back aboard the Normandy," Shepard said, pausing for a moment to put her thoughts in order. "Main deck. I was heading for the cockpit to get the last people out. And Morgan was on the ground in front of the escape pod, dicking around with the terminal. Him, doing something with a terminal."

"I'm well aware he's not a tech expert," Miranda replied, offering one of her cold, barely there smiles.

"Right. I go to try and get him to leave, he tells me the pod is malfunctioning, and before I know it, I'm kicked into the escape pod, which mysteriously fixes itself and ejects, leaving Morgan behind. The only one to make it out, While the rest of us were sent straight into the hands of the Collectors!"

"And-"

"And how did he know?!" Shepard snapped. "How! You yourself told me, how he was the one to lead the... rescue," she almost spit the word out. "And how he knew about Cerberus. A dumb kid from the sticks? Like hell."

"I also told you how he wasn't a fan of us," Miranda said. "And..." she seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"And?"

"It's hard to describe, but he doesn't actually know that much about us. It seems like he only knew about those of us who were, for lack of a better word, following you."

"And how does that change anything?" Shepard said. "How did he even know? How does he always know? And why did he throw us out to the Collectors?"

"I don't-"

"I remember it!" Shepard snapped. She paused, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers on the bridge of her nose. Thinking. Not sure whether she should say what she was thinking, specially not to Miranda. But having Morgan there, having held him down and damn near blown his brains out, she needed to say it. "Every time I close my eyes. Every time I let myself think. That moment, in the escape pod, not knowing what was happening. And then the Collectors." She opened her eyes and looked at Miranda, who was giving her one of those looks she hated so much. Like she was some kind of specimen for Miranda to examine. "I don't know why. I don't even know how. But all I know is that, if I hadn't trusted him, maybe I would still be alive."

"You are alive, Shepard," Miranda replied. She took a deep breath and sighed. "You went through a lot, but you are alive. Don't let your feelings cloud your memories, they're notoriously unreliable during times of emotional stress."

"And you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"You'd be surprised," Miranda replied.

Freaking frigging hell but I felt like absolute shit. I wasn't sure if I felt cold or hot. I was shivering, but also covered in sweat, and according to Chakwas it was going to last a while. There's only so much modern medicine can do, she said. Just had to wait for all this shit to get out of my system. The place where I had been thrown in was Spartan to the max, a single cot and, in a corner, a contraption that morphed into a toilet, shower, or drinking fountain depending on what I felt like I needed at the time. The fact that Cerberus had taken the time to build tiny cells at the bottom of the Normandy didn't surprise me one bit. What did surprise me was that Shepard had thrown me into one of them.

I expected she'd have questions about me throwing her into the escape pod. I even expected her to be pissed, given her mercurial temperament, but this was something else. I was pretty sure the Grim Reaper had been sitting on a chair watching the proceedings to see if his services would be needed. Not even Ash had been that freaking murderous when she pinned me down and put a gun to my head the day the Eden Prime attack happened.

Thinking of Ash brought back memories of some of the shit I had seen during the unending hallucinogenic trip I had undergone. She, too, had been quite accusatory in her tone. Not that I was exactly thinking straight now, but I was pretty sure that was my subconscious letting me know that I couldn't just brush her death aside under the excuse that the Shadow Broker had backstabbed me. I should have taken the bull by the horns myself, no matter the cost. At least she'd have been alive to snark at me.

I felt like shit.

"I've got orders," I heard someone say outside. Male voice. Didn't recognize it, other than it being one of the people who'd dragged me down here.

"You want me to hurt you?" another voice. Oh friggin' hell that was Jack. What was she doing?

"Not more than I want to hurt you," the man replied. Oh please don't escalate with Jack, please don't... "But even less I want to explain to the Commander why this guy escaped under my nose."

"He can't even fucking walk!" Jack snapped. There was a pause. "Just open the fucking door."

That... was very mild, by Jack's standards at least. I wondered what the hell was going on. I could barely see the door where I was, sitting in a corner right by the 'toilet', so I could only guess what was going on. I didn't even realize something had happened until Jack herself kicked my foot, nearly sending me crashing on the ground.

"Hey dumbass, you all right?" she said.

I steadied myself and looked up. I couldn't even see her face in the darkness, only her silhouette. "Jack, what are you... doing here?"

She crouched down, sitting on her haunches to be eye level with me, and she dropped something on the ground. Looked like a bucket. I could see a bit of her face now, and she looked... Well, she always looked pissed, but this time it looked a bit different. Like she wasn't as pissed as usual, but she was, and it was not all of it directed at me.

"You look like shit. Am I going to have to break you out of here too?" she said.

"No... need. Just... just need to... talk with Shepard..." I replied. I was trembling all over still.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jack snapped. "You dragged that bitch out of hell, and she pays you back like this. And you still want to kiss her ass?"

"I..."

"Just shut up," she snapped and, without warning, stood up and yanked the blanket off my shoulders. "You're not actually cold, so stop making it worse. Drink the fucking tupari and throw up."

She punctuated the last phrase by giving the bucket a kick, and stomped away, throwing the blanket into a corner as she did. She didn't even give me a chance to thank her. Once my half-fried brain had caught up, I realized she had been the one to free me. Breaking me out "again" kind of gave it away. Wait, did Chakwas mentioned her? I couldn't remember. I could barely process anything. I looked at the blanket, but despite all the trembling, I was covered in sweat. Maybe she was right. With shaky hands I grabbed the bucket and spilled the contents. Several bottles of some orange-red-ish drink, the Tupari logo displayed prominently. I reached for my omni-tool, and realized, for the n-th time, that I didn't have it anymore. Taken from me when I was captured. Omni-tool, guns, everything.

Mika's gun.

"EDI," I called, as I struggled to open one of those bottles. Jell-o hands. She didn't answer. "EDI, if... if it's not against orders... Can you ask Jack..." I trailed off. "Nevermind."

I very much doubted Jack went out of her way to look for that gun. I dropped the bottle and curled up on the floor, trying to get the new bout of nausea under control. Even after death, I had found another way to let Mika down.

I barely managed to stick my head in the bucket before I retched.

The cockpit. Called so because the cockiest son of a bitch in the galaxy inhabited it most of the time. Shepard made her way past the CIC and towards it, not managing to crack a smile. Not even the usual jokes seemed to be breaking through. Still, it was the place where she was spending most of the time these days, probably because it had both Joker and Talitha sharing the space and nobody else from Cerberus.

She knew the two of them were technically Cerberus, but she couldn't bring herself to think of them that way. Maybe she was just being willfully blind. There were a couple of others in the crew. Rosie was there, making the Draven pair ready for the sequel, so to speak. Tanaka was there, which had surprised her. He'd always been a family man, didn't expect him to risk it all to stay with her. A few others had joined Cerberus, but had decided to sit the mission out. And she couldn't blame them, who'd want to go against the Collectors for another round after the nightmare the first time had been?

Still, deep down, she felt an irrational prick of resentment towards them. She couldn't sit it out. Not if Cerberus' intel was right.

"You know what pisses me off?" Joker started saying as soon as she was within earshot. "Calling this the cockpit. Alliance ships have bridges. Asari have cockpits. Oh wait. No they don't." He looked up over his shoulder and made eye contact with Shepard. "Really? Nothing?"

"I thought it had to do with the pilot's cockiness," Shepard replied. Forced. Sounded forced, because it was.

"Completely earned, I assure you," Joker replied. He turned his leather seat around to face her. "You look like someone pissed in your cheerios. Was it Gardner? Did you finally catch him? I have EDI running the security footage 24/7, I'm sure I'll get him eventually."

"Mr. Moureau, as I have repeatedly indicated, Mr. Gardner performs his duties to the highest standards of hygiene."

"You say that because you haven't tasted what he serves," Joker said.

Those two had a very strange chemistry going. It was even worse when Talitha was around, because it was impossible to tell whose side she'd take. Often she took both alternatively, to egg them on.

"I'll see what I can do about that," Shepard said. "But it'll have to wait. Omega isn't the best place to go shopping for... Well, anything."

"I can think of a couple of things," Joker replied, raising his eyebrows repeatedly. When Shepard didn't bite, he paused for a moment, as if pondering what to say next. She had never seen him at a loss for words, but she quickly put two and two together. "Sooo... What happened with-"

"You too?" Shepard snapped back. "You gonna tell me that he's a good guy and not to be too hard on him after he fucking sold us out?"

"Oooh-kay," he replied. "Shutting up, Commander."

And with that, he slowly turned his chair back to the instruments. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. Dammit all. She sighed and sat down on the nearby console, rubbing her eyes with her hand. Even Joker?

"That bad?" she finally said. She knew the answer. Joker would be honest.

"Well, not that I'm one to know just how crabby being back from the dead can make one," Joker said, and paused just enough to see if she remembered what he was talking about. Which wasn't an idle question. Too many gaps in her head. Too many.

"Me? Crabby?" Shepard said, trying to at least pretend she found it amusing.

"I'd check for bite marks," Joker replied, but continued quickly before she could respond. "But! I don't think I've seen you this angry at anyone. Not even with Saren and, you know, he kind of did a number on us."

She closed her eyes and leaned back, resting her head against the metallic frame behind her. It was true. Yes, she remembered the events. The Citadel. Virmire. The latter had had much of that anger directed at herself.

"What do you want me to do? I remember it, Joker. He set me up. I remember it perfectly."

"Well... That's the funny thing. Memories I mean." She looked at him as he spoke. "I know you have a few gaps in there, but that's not it. I clearly remembered being the last one out of the Normandy, you know. That day. But after I had a discussion with Talitha, she went looking and showed me the logs we recovered. She was the last one out, not me."

"So?"

"So, if you had asked me before that, I'd have sworn it had been me," he said with a shrug. "Our heads play tricks on us sometimes."

"And you don't think he screwed us over."

"Me? Nah. The three days we spent in the pod he was so optimistic it made me sick. Well, that or the broken ribs, who knows. And before we took on the Collectors, too. But after? I haven't seen him that defeated since the Battle of the Citadel. You know, after they finished stitching him up together."

"Maybe he was pretending," Shepard said, her face scrunching in a frown.

"Morgan?" Joker said. That was all he said, but really, that was enough. "Just... you know, maybe talk to the guy before you shoot him?"

"Talking to him is more likely to have me shoot him," Shepard said, trying desperately to add humor to something was too close to the truth at the time.

"Granted, you two don't have the greatest track record. Just maybe have Miranda and Chakwas on standby."

She chuckled and shook her head, closing her eyes in the process. Maybe he was right. Joker, the voice of reason. She trembled for a moment thinking about the fate of the Universe when such a thing came to pass. But it was unnerving, not being able to trust her own head. Her own memories. What if she was wrong. Not because of Morgan himself, but what about.. everything else. She was surrounded by people she couldn't trust. If she couldn't even trust herself, what else was there?

"I'll think about it," she finally said. "It's going to be a while before he's back on his feet again. And I have more shit to do. The sooner I'm done, the sooner we can get out of this place."

"Hey, not the worst place I've been assigned to," Joker replied.

"I hear ya."

Yeah, the Alliance had some real shitholes reserved for the people who served. At least the Normandy didn't have to dock, it was floating a decent distance away from the base. No chance to catch... literally everything.

Afterlife. She felt it before she heard it, and she head it before she saw it. The fact that Omega was an abandoned Prothean mining facility did take some of the shine out of it. It was easy to recognize the actual function under the clutter, the design of the superstructure that had hollowed out the Eezo-rich asteroid. A bit like the Council chambers aboard the Citadel. Knowing that it was just the control room for the Citadel itself made the Council's grandiose appearances substantially less impressive. Like holding a dinner party in the bedroom. Notoriously out of place.

Regardless, Aria had made a decent job turning it into a glamorously seedy place, if such a thing existed. The central stage was large, with several asari dancing to the off-tone, hard beat of the asari music, but well out of reach from the regular patrons. If they wanted a more private setting, they had to pay up. And even then, a casual glance showed these private shows were still quite hands-off. Yet the feeling of anything goes oozed from every corner of the place. At a price, of course. But nothing unsightly in view. Aria wanted it to look good, it seemed.

Aria. She'll go poke her. But first, she needed that fucking drink.

"What will it be?" the bartender, a turian, yelled over the loud music.

"A shot of something that's not some batarian s'kak," she yelled back. "And make it good, she's paying," she added, pointing with her thumb at Miranda.

She wasn't surprised the Cerberus Cheerleader didn't react in any way. Cerberus Cheerleader. She had to thank Jack for that one, because it was about the only thing that had made her laugh out of the whole ordeal. The bartender nodded and a moment later had a glass of some thick, amber liquid in front of her. Ice cube, wide glass, probably not something to just scarf down. Truth is, she wasn't looking to getting drunk. At least not yet. For what she had read on her file, she'd probably be able to do just that with Jack.

Gonna be a hell of a job interview.

"So, nice place you got here. Greet all visitors with a gun to their face?"

"Depends on the visitor," the turian replied without even a moment of doubt. Didn't look like he laughed at it either. "And how cheap you are with the parking fees."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Shepard replied. "Ever heard of Archangel?"

"Sure have. You new here I take it?"

"Something like that. You know where to find him?"

This time, the turian did laugh. Or at least chuckled lightly. "You don't find Archangel, Shepard. He finds you. But I'll let people know you're looking for him, he might be interested." He tapped the glass in front of her. "And no need to pay, this one's on the boss."

Shepard felt herself pull a face, but stopped short before she said something that she'd regret. Again. At the very least, Aria was paying for a goddamn good drink.

"What's she want with me anyway?"

"Not for me to say. At your own convenience," the turian said. He gave her a nod, and moved on to a different customer.

Well, that certainly ruined her mood. She took one more sip of the drink - asari, had to be, but surprisingly not consisting of a mouthful of salt, sugar, or a mix of both - and gave the rest of her troop a nod to the side. Time to face the head bitch. She made for the stairs at the back, and was nodded through by the armed guards at the bottom. And was immediately stopped as soon as she reached the top. It was an open space, built to oversee the entire bar. Opulence dripped from every corner, including the sofa where one asari was sitting.

"That's close enough," the asari said, as the guards started scanning them.

Shepard didn't move a finger, but her internal alarm started blaring. For maybe a second.

"If you're looking for guns, you're awful at your job," she said, trying to make contact with the batarian scanning her.

"Can't be too careful with dead Spectres," the asari said. "Could be anyone under that face."

Only too right, Shepard thought, because it was way too close to the truth. That's how she had felt since the moment she woke up in that Cerberus base.

"We don't do cheap knockoffs," Miranda replied.

Unexpected, but didn't exactly surprise her. If Miranda had been around before, she could guess the clash of personalities would have been intense. And given the look the asari, who she had surmised could only be Aria, had shot towards Miranda, she guessed she was right.

"Could have fooled me," Aria replied.

"They're clean," the batarian said, stepping aside.

"Well then," Shepard said, pushing past the batarian and coming to stand in front of Aria. "What's all this about?"

"Straight to business?" Aria said, and gestured at the sofa next to her. "Have a seat Shepard, relax. This is Afterlife. Business, and pleasure."

"And you run the place. And Omega, for what I've heard," Shepard added, taking the offered seat.

Aria laughed. She raised her arms, palms up, and looked away. "I am Omega, Shepard. The only truly free place in the Galaxy, where there is only one rule."

"Don't fuck with Aria," Miranda called from the back of the room.

"What the bitch said," Aria replied, pointing at Miranda but looking at Shepard. And smiling. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "So what brings the dogs to my doorstep, for a second time?"

Interesting question. Sounded like she knew, or at least suspected, some of what they were doing. She knew Miranda had gotten some help from her, at a very steep price. She had been quite insistent on that point, and more than a bit peeved by it, too. Well, in truth, there was no point beating around the bush.

"The Collectors," Shepard said simply.

"Figured as much," Aria replied. "Settling grudges?"

"You bet," Shepard said. "As for what I'm looking for here, I'm trying to put a good team together."

"Really? Do tell, what was wrong with the old one? They did get you out, didn't they?"

"Mostly," Shepard said. "I think I can do better."

Aria looked away towards the back. Miranda looked as unamused as ever. Massani was completely nonplussed by the situation, as if he did this every Thursday. Hand close to the gun, but in all appearance too far to be an immediate thread.

"So that's why you took Jack," Aria said. "Shame. She's so entertaining. Did she get my gift?"

"Your gift?" Shepard said. "I didn't find any heads in a box, if that's what you mean."

Aria laughed lightly. "She'll know. And she'll know what it means. Ah, to think I'll miss her face when you tell her."

"I'll send you a picture," Shepard said. "I'm also looking for Archangel. Don't have a lot of info on him, just the work he does."

There was a moment where the smile in Aria's face... froze, for lack of a better word. It was but an eyeblink, but Shepard wouldn't miss it. Made sense. Omega used to have organized crime. It still had plenty of crime, but it was more disorganized. It made one wonder how much trouble that had caused Aria.

"As you humans would say, get in line Shepard. Plenty of people looking for Archangel. Not a lot of bites. A smart woman would instead look for the next place he will strike."

"If you have a way to find a needle in a haystack, I'd love to hear it," Shepard said.

"You use a magnet," Aria replied, "although I fail to see the relevance."

"It's-" Shepard caught herself. "Very funny."

Aria's smile relaxed slightly, before disappearing completely into her practiced mask of non-chalance. Small wonder she clashed with Miranda, they were two peas in a pod. "One thing you can say about Archangel. He does stay on target. Last I heard, he was chasing a merg croup down in the brown levels. Pack a barf bag."

"Joy," Shepard said. "So, what's the price tag?"

"Oh everyone comes to me when they need something, Shepard. I like to provide," Aria replied, twisting her smile once again. "I'll do you one better, and for free."

She made a casual swipe of her omni-tool, and a projection popped up in the middle of the room. It was a security camera view, showing a whole mess of dingy prefab buildings haphazardly put together. At first she thought the image was fuzzy, then her breath caught in her throat. Bugs. Buzzing bugs. Swarms.

Collectors.

It took every fiber of her being not to scream. Her fingers twitched, watching the video, while her memories rushed to the surface. The awful moment when the pod opened, and all she could see were the swarms. Then, the freeze. The pod. Then... Then, nothing. No, there was something, but she positively couldn't think about it now. She had to keep it together.

"And where was this?" Shepard said.

"Chalkhos," Aria said. "Not much left now. Other than the dead corpses, of course. Most of them asari, and assorted playthings. Except for one thing that was conspicuously missing." She paused and looked at Shepard. Dramatic effect? Looking at her reaction? "Humans. No human bodies to be seen anywhere."

Shepard turned and looked at the projection. It was just a very short clip, repeating over and over. It was mostly the bugs, but in between them she could see them. Collectors moving around. Casually shooting the frozen inhabitants of the colony.

"When was this taken?"

"Three days ago. Not the first colony hit. As you can imagine, it makes my people... nervous. And questions get asked. Like what did Cerberus do to stir up the bug's nest."

And so, there it was. For all the way she had presented herself as so helpful, Aria wasn't playing. Was she really blaming Cerberus for the mess? And why- No, she didn't as much care as she saw herself as the one in charge of the Terminus. It wasn't quite true, but she was an important figure in the Terminus. And the Terminus itself depended on being strong enough to pose a threat together. Not that the Council would ever allow any sort of unification, but the threat was there. Ifit got out that entire colonies were disappearing, well, that could have repercussions.

"Not the best person to ask," Shepard replied, giving her best nonchalant shrug. "I was dead all along."

"So the rumors were true after all," Aria said. "So many questions." She paused to sip her drink, and her smile disappeared. "Clean up your mess, Cerberus. The bill will be steep if I have to do it myself."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. Several ways to answer came to mind, none of them were good. She wasn't in the right frame of mind. Well, there was always the old standby. Agree and amplify.

"You should bill them anyway," Shepard said, standing up as she did. "They have surprisingly deep pockets. Thanks for the intel, I might be back later."

"I might be here," Aria replied airily, waving her off.

When Shepard had come back from her meeting with Aria, she had a haunted look on her face Kelly hadn't seen since the early days of her so-called revival. She had asked if she wanted to talk, and after a rather uncomfortable silence, Shepard had said yes. They had talked before, but it had always been distant. She never agreed to it openly like that, it had been more like begrudgingly accepting of her presence. But now, now she really looked like she needed to talk.

Even so, it had taken a while. For twenty minutes straight they had been sitting in silence. But after a while, she had finally opened up. The dreams. The panic she nearly fell to when she saw the recording.

Fear, real fear. Something Shepard was clearly not used to feeling. Well, death could do that to anyone, she guessed.

"So what brought this up?" Kelly said. "You've seen recordings before. From the inside of the Collector ship, right?"

"Yes," Shepard replied.

"So what's different this time?"

"I don't know," Shepard replied. Fast. Too fast. Obvious.

"You do," Kelly said. She waited, but no answer came. "I know that the whole thing about making you feel better if you speak about it sounds silly, but verbalizing our thoughts can help organize them. Just give me something. Describe your feelings. Maybe a word."

She waited. Nothing. Shepard sat there, eyes glued to the floor. She could almost hear the gears turning.

"Shepard. Today..."

"Yes, today! You know damn well what happened today, you don't have to pretend you don't!"

Shepard shot to her feet and started pacing like a caged animal. It really didn't take two guesses to figure out she was talking about Morgan, but it was a sudden opportunity. She knew Shepard needed help. Needed to be able to trust somebody. Yes, isolating her was part of the plan, but not to the point that she shut the crew out as she did. It was to transfer her trust and loyalty to Cerberus. It was a wide gulf, but one they could bridge with care. Problem was, Morgan had shown up and made her on the spot. She still didn't know how.

Well, maybe there was something she could do with this.

"For the record, Rosie managed to talk down Talitha. She's still here," Kelly said, trying to put her friendliest smile on. Nothing bad has happened, Shepard, she was saying.

"Even Draven. She could have taken off for all I care!"

Shepard fell heavily on the bed, and Kelly tilted her head slightly, looking at her and still smiling.

"I know you don't mean that," she said. "And you do, too."

"Yes. No. I don't know anymore," Shepard said, and put her hands on her face, followed by a deep breath. "But what, I'm supposed to trust him? I was there, I remember what happened." She looked up. "I'm supposed to pretend it didn't? That everything is just the way it was before?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Kelly said. Here goes nothing. "Maybe you don't have to trust any of us. We volunteered here to work with you, Shepard. It's not conditional, you don't have to force yourself, or pretend anything. Just... maybe keep a tiny window open to the possibility of letting us earn your trust."

Us. We. Loaded language, chosen carefully. Highlighting those who Shepard had never met, pointedly excluding Morgan. It wasn't ideal, feeding on her paranoia and letting her isolate herself. Shepard was in a vulnerable moment, and this could potentially set her back. Having some of her old crew aboard should have helped. For the matter, so should have having Morgan. Whatever Shepard remembered from the Collector attack, Morgan's effort to rescue her and the crew had been real - she knew as much, at least, from his dossier. It could have been used as a pivot to open Shepard up to trusting others in the crew. If she was wrong about that, what else could she be wrong about, that was the angle. But then, Morgan had made her, and now she had to make sure she was above him when it came to trustworthiness. She could even escalate and explain how her work was to monitor morale, and that reporting to the Illusive Man would happen only whether the crew needed help, psychological or otherwise. She was there for them. But no, now she had to drive that wedge between the two of them. Ideally, Shepard would keep Morgan under lock and key. Or even better, kick him out.

In the meantime, Shepard hadn't said a word. She had sat there in silence, thinking, eyes fixed on the empty fishtank. Eventually, she gave a small, imperceptible nod.

Internally, Kelly started cheering. She might have a chance to carry out her mission after all.

After Jack's visit, it was a while before anyone other than Chakwas came to say hello. EDI continued to be silent, even though I knew she had a terminal available. Chakas talked to her while she came down to check on me. Probably Shepard's orders, keep me isolated. I tried conversing with her, with the omnipresent guard, but got nothing, so I stopped trying. Silence was an old friend anyway. And I had started to feel better. The Tupari had been a surprisingly good help.

Eventually, after whatever time had passed because I didn't have a watch or an omni-tool, none other than Shepard showed up. At first, all she did was stand on the other side of the kinetic barrier and just... look at me. Like she wanted to dissect me or something. She did this twice, not saying a word - and I didn't say anything either - until, on the third visit, she opened the barrier and stepped inside.

I knew I wasn't a pretty sight, but it didn't look like she cared. Good or bad sign, I couldn't tell. For a while, she stood there, looking down at me. I was sitting on the spartan cot in the room, and wasn't feeling much like standing up. In every sense of the word. Yet she didn't talk.

"Shepard," I finally said. She just nodded back. Freaking hell I really was feeling too much like fried shit to play games. "So, what's it going to be? Are you going to shoot me, or are you going to let me go?"

The words were barely out of my mouth when I remembered. Saying almost the exact same thing to Nihlus before the attack on the Citadel. Either shoot me or let me go, I have shit to do. Back then, the AI had yanked me out and told me to stop him. I hadn't managed. This time, there was no AI.

No AI.

"Why?" Shepard said.

"Why? Why what?"

I saw an angry expression flash over Shepard's face, but in a rare display, she seemed to catch herself. "You damn well know why what. Why did you betray us?"

"I didn't betray you," I replied.

"No? Oh Shepard, the pod, it's not working," she said, her voice somewhat mocking in tone. "Next thing I know, you've kicked me straight into the Collectors' loving arms. And they take the entire crew. Everyone..." she gestured at me, "but you."

"And you think I had something to do with the attack against the Normandy," I said.

"You didn't?"

"No."

"Then what happened. What the hell were you doing. And it better be fucking good."

Well, I shouldn't have been surprised. I did kick Shepard into the escape pod, and I had been expecting some blowback. And I thought I had an answer, too. I knew damn well she'd never leave the ship until everyone had left, and I couldn't let that happen. It also had the advantage of being one hundred percent true. The problem was what came after. I was way too prepared for it, clearly. So, why not go for gold. I knew about the reapers. I knew about the collectors. I knew all their plans about how they were going to invade the galaxy. And it was about time Shepard knew, too.

So I opened my mouth. And no sound came out. I tried to breath in, but I couldn't. Shepard went out of focus. I could hear her yell something, but it was far away.

Oh no. No, no, not again. No way. She's gone. Not again...

"What... the hell is that?" Shepard said, looking at the screen. "And how did you miss it doc?"

"I missed it because I didn't have the time to do a thorough examination of my patient," Chakwas replied, her voice as even and calm as ever. "As for what it is, EDI helpfully pointed out it is a close match to some of the hardware that was removed from you, Commander."

They were having that conversation right in front of me, which wasn't as bad as it sounded because Chakwas had already explained it to me. Not that I needed an explanation, because I had already gotten one.

It had been creepy, which might sound redundant when the AI was involved, but it was extra creepy. It had been like a broken message, just bits and bobs, hadn't seen more than a small glimpse of broken digital noise. And a phrase. Shepard's timeline was not converging, whatever the fuck that meant. Something was wrong. Something about Shepard. And the suicide mission. And then the little nugget, that they had put that little thing in my head. For my own protection. That it had been the only way to save me. How bloody convenient.

What in the hell.

"So what, it's controlling him?"

"No it isn't," I said. Shepard didn't reply.

"I don't believe it is," Chakwas replied. "But... Morgan, what were you trying to do when it happened?"

"I was..." I hesitated, definitely not looking forward to trying that again.

"Attempting to say something," Chakwas finished for me. "There's two clusters, one in the Arcuate fasciculus, another in the cerebellum, and several infiltrates through the primary cortex."

"How the hell did this happen? When did this happen?"

"Given the residual swelling and blood markers, it's very recent," Chakwas said, and looked at me.

"I didn't know," I said. "I swear."

"So what, the Collectors got you under their thumb?" Shepard said. "Is that why you-"

"No!"

"Then what the hell is going on?!"

"I'm trying to help you!" I snapped. "That's it! You know why I pushed you into that pod? Because you need to survive! You're the only one who can fix this mess! You!"

Shepard and I locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity, while Chakwas worked on her terminal for a bit. It was the doctor who broke the silence.

"He's telling the truth, Commander," Chakwas.

"You can tell?" Shepard said.

"Oh Shepard, so could you," Chakwas replied, "if you gave yourself a chance to listen. Do tell, why is Shepard so important, Morgan?"

"Bec-

Because that's what whoever wrote the fucking script for Mass Effect decided.

That's what came to mind, but didn't come out of my mouth. I got stuck once again, trying to speak or breathe, and being unable to. Until I got a slap across the face, not too strong but not particularly gentle either.

"Breathe, Roy. Breathe," Chakwas said. "Think about something else."

Elephants. Think about elephants.

By the by, my breathing got back under control, and I could focus again. I couldn't believe it. The freaking AI. If Shepard's so important, what about giving me a break with her for once? Was it too much to freaking ask? What the hell did she have against me?

"What the hell do you have against me?" Shepard said.

"What?"

"You just... you just can't give me a break." She put her hands on her face, rubbing them vigorously. She then looked up, and for a fleeting moment, it didn't look like she was pissed at me anymore. "So who did this to you?"

"I..." I could feel it coming again. Like something squeezing my chest.

"You know, don't you?" she insisted.

I couldn't breathe.

"Roy!"

"Commander!" Chakwas called.

Shepard threw her hands in the air and turned around, and started pacing, while I concentrated on the freaking elephants again. Just that. Elephants. And breathing. For a while, there was blessed silence. Then, Chakwas just describing what she was seeing on the monitor. And still Shepard paced.

"Can you remove it?" Shepard asked as she walked.

"No," Chakwas replied. Shit, that was fast, and very convincing. "Or at least, not easily. I will consult with Miranda, it might be possible with the resources Cerberus employed for you."

Shepard stopped pacing and looked at Chakwas. Made sense, if they thought it was Collector tech. But...

"Shepard," I said. And I didn't know what else to say. I didn't know what else I could say.

"I need to think about this," Shepard said. She pointed a finger at me. "Don't do anything stupid."

And with that, she just walked away. I considered it progress, she didn't throw me in the brig at least. But the real question was the obvious one.

Who the hell is the stupid AI?

Author's Notes: Aaaaand...Hopefully I don't lose my remaining audience after this chapter! One thing I'm hoping I'm not overdoing (I might have last time with the abruptness of Shepard's "greeting") is the rather fragile state of mind Shepard's in. We know it's actually "Shepard". Her mountain to climb. And if I'm honest, the fact that Shepard is so... well, nonchalant about it in ME2 is kind of jarring. Maybe a happy medium between psychotic and "oh, I'm alive and with Cerberus, cool" should have been found.

So, the chip. Finshadow212th called it on chapter 53, and I hope you're willing to give it a chance. It was always the plan to have both things (Shepard's loss of confidence - again - after the events during the Collector attack, and the chip implant), but the manner of the chip was a bit in the air until I got to it. I decided that the best course would be for the AI to put it in place because of the kidnapping instead of the more direct/forceful solutions, and also have its return be a lot more ambiguous.

It'll play its part. Everything does (or at least I try to have an abundance of things be there as a Chekov's gun, not just for the hell of it).

So! That's that, we're in business.

As usual, if you want to throw some support at me, I'd appreciate it greatly!

tinyurl (period) com (slash) y2q9cop6

(Still think FFnet sucks at hyperlinks).

Thanks for all the reviews! As I saw, Shepard's brilliant return was a little bit of a mixed bag, but please bear with her for a bit longer. Hopefully we can go places with this :)

Next time on My Effect: Convergence: It's not volunteering, it's being voluntold. And someone doesn't like that shit.

Until then, thanks for reading!