AN: It's been a while, but here's chapter 16, in which nefarious schemes are uncovered.

~0~


"I am not willing to risk navy assets for a whisper, Margaret. Unless you can bring me solid proof of a this "maybe" civilization, I cannot pull our ships away from their positions. We're vulnerable right now, even with access to the Ark. I'm sorry."

"Understand, Terrence, that this might be a golden opportunity you are casting aside. The galaxy is a large place. A dangerous place. Humanity needs allies."

"Allies? That doesn't sound like you, Margaret. I understand the need to explore, but I am not risking another attack. Not while we are still rebuilding our economy and industry."

"I propose we wait another week. If our employees can present you with solid proof of an existing civilization…"

"If your…employees…can find evidence of an alien civilization, I will rethink my statement."

"Excellent."

-Conversation between Lord Hood and Admiral Parangosky, [TIME STAMP REDACTED]

~0~

Aboard SSV Normandy SR-2


Most UNSC warships didn't offer a lot of commodities. They were meant for frontline combat, not luxury. Because of that, the Master Chief found it jarring just how manyamenities the Normandy offered. When the sleep-cycle came around again and most nonessential crew went to their bunks, he took full advantage of the Frigate's shower installations. Though brief, the hot water on his skin felt very good, and he enjoyed every second of it.

The Spartan dried off after that and quickly donned his suit yet. Despite rationalizing that they were allies and despite Shepard's advice to simply "Take the leap" and trust the crew, he really, really didn't trust them yet. He wanted to, but he found himself unable to even think of turning his back to one of these aliens unprotected.

Perhaps that was what had gone wrong on the Citadel. Perhaps his paranoia had taken the better of him, after a long and exhausting battle with a powerful Biotic.

Somehow, he doubted that was the full picture. It couldn't just be paranoia. Any soldier -any Spartan- would have responded like he had. Mere seconds after a harrowing battle, a wall exploding right next to you would set anybody off. It was a matter of discipline and training to expect the unexpected, to see any disturbance as a potential threat.

So why hadn't he stopped? Even more important, why hadn't he recognized that the breaching S-SEC squad hadn't been hostile enough to warrant such a lethal response?

As he checked the neck-seal of his hardsuit -just in case of sudden decompression- he heard Cortana chime in

"Still brooding over that incident, are we? I got something more interesting for you. Guess what the Normandy is named after?"

"A place of importance to their World War?" Supposed the Chief. He wasn't really interested right now, but he could humor her all the same.

"I thought the same. Guess what? The Normandy is named after the country where the first major peace conference was held! From there, it took only a month to end the war. Funny how that goes."

"Their Normandy was peace, ours was war," he mused. "Cortana, how does that work? We share our language, we share names. But their Earth isn't ours."

"If you look close enough, there are plenty of differences. Most of the things can be chalked up to a divergent evolution from a certain subspecies, but to speak the same language? Yeah, that doesn't make a lot of sense."

"So," the Spartan said as he made his way back to the hangar bay again, "You've discovered nothing?"

The AI sounded insulted when she gave her reply. "As if! I've discovered a great many things. I've compiled a list of divergences between our humanity and theirs according to the Sol system, composition of Earth, evolution, history, culture and genetics, just in case you have eighty-seven consecutive hours of free time at your disposal."

"Not expecting that any time soon," he remarked. He flexed his shoulders; they were still stiff, even after the quick shower.

"Let me guess. You're itching to get back into the fight?"

The Master Chief reached the hangar bay again and went to his usual spot. He had requested materials for a hammock before they had hit the Citadel. Keeping himself busy was one way to stave off idle thoughts and unwelcome ideas. "What is else is there to do?"

Cortana popped up via his omni-tool. She stood with her hands on her hips, obviously annoyed. "Well," she said, addressing him personally instead of using the helmet's comms. "How about the AI-friendly Jane, sitting in her personal quarters?"

The Chief raised his eyebrow. That first-name basis that Cortana and Shepard had going on bothered him for reasons he couldn't quite understand. "She's probably sleeping."

"It's Shepard. Judging by her daily habits, the chances of her sleeping right now are eleven point three percent."

"Your point?"

"Go visit her."

The Chief felt hesitative about that. He wasn't sure he wanted to face the Commander after what had happened on the Citadel. Not only had he discredited her name, but he had failed his mission. The one objective that she had given him and he had failed it. How could any Spartan face their CO after that?

He should have told Cortana about that.

But he didn't. "Visiting any Commanding Officer's personal quarters without a good reason is not acceptable."

Cortana sighed explosively. "You're being extraordinarily stubborn."

The Spartan was about to give his reply and proclaim his innocence when the AI raised her hand, stopping him. "Fine. If you could go to the armory and get me a spare omni-tool? I want to compare data."

The Chief frowned at that. When Cortana set her mind to something, she didn't just give up. Still, perhaps she had sensed his desire to be left alone for a while.

Whatever the cause of her sudden change of subject was, he wasn't going to push her. He quickly stepped towards the elevator and, eager to do something with his time, set the destination.

The elevator came to a stop within a few moments. Especially odd, since the thing was about as fast as the elevator's in Installation 04's Library had been.

It became apparent why. The doors opened, revealing the dimly-lit interior of the engineering deck and a slender quarian girl.

The Master Chief immediately stepped aside, allowing the girl to enter without having to brush past him.

She was fumbling with her omni-tool and only looked up when the doors had been open for a few moments. She gasped upon seeing him, but quickly regained her composure. "Oh. Ah…right."

The Master Chief inwardly sighed. Of all moments to move around the ship, she had to have picked the same one putting her in the same room with a Spartan.

Luckily, he had donned his helmet before embarking, otherwise this would have been much more difficult to handle. From what he understood about the quarian, she was a civilian. An engineering prodigy who had followed the Commander throughout every step of her campaign against Saren, but a civilian nonetheless.

The doors slowly closed again.

"So…" she started, facing him as she did. "You are the Master Chief, right?"

He nodded. If her body language was anything like that of a human, she looked nervous. She sure sounded uncomfortable.

"I…I don't think we have been introduced, properly."

The visor of her helmet was semi-transparent, and the Chief could roughly discern the features of her face. She looked human. Still, there was a glowing orb where her mouth should be, which bore an uncanny resemblance to the breathing apparatus of a Grunt.

So when she hesitantly offered her hand towards him, he was taken aback somewhat. "I'm Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

A long name.

"Like Master Chief Petty Officer is so easy to pronounce."

The Chief paused for a split-second, then took her hand and slowly, very carefully as to not harm her, shook it. Her hand felt small compared to his. Feeble, elfin.

That wasn't just him; her wrist was more slender than that of a human, even with her suit covering it up. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Zorah."

She groaned. "Please just call me Tali. "Miss Zorah" makes me feel like I'm old."

Shepard had looked young to him, but her military record was twice as long as that of the average Helljumper. The quarian sounded even younger and she didn't have a military record. How old was she?

The elevator reached the third floor, the crew quarters, and slowly continued upwards towards the CIC.

"I'm glad to see you've recovered…" she then started. "I was there to help remove your armor. You were hurt pretty bad."

Staying silent seemed like an impolite thing to do, especially now that the crew might already view him in a negative light. "I have had worse."

She chuckled at that. "That sounds like something Shepard would say. But your suit was already pretty battered when she found you, so I guess…"

The elevator reached the CIC, for which the Chief was thankful. He disliked slow-moving platforms ever since he had rode those in the Library and the idle conversation didn't help matters.

"Well, this is my stop," commented the quarian. She took a few steps towards the now-empty CIC. Further down the bridge, Joker could still be seen sitting on his seat at the far end of the hallway.

Then, the girl turned around and faced the Chief again. "I just wanted to say…I don't believe you attacked those officers for no reason."

The Master Chief looked at her, surprised that she would say that.

As if sensing his curiosity, she explained why. "I was there on New Canton, when Shepard got you out. You could have stayed hidden as the slavers took the civilians, but you didn't. Plus, Shepard told me you're a human, too. You're just like her, I think."

Her remark puzzled him. In what way was he just like Shepard? And how did the quarian -Tali- know that? "You don't know me," he said, trying not to make it sound like he was accusing her.

"Funny. I told her the same thing, back when she first found me on the Citadel," she replied. "But she told me, "I'd like to". So…see you around."

After that last comment, she left, leaving the Chief alone with his thoughts.

He knew he hadn't killed those officers just because. Spartans never killed without a reason. He had been fighting for mankind's survival for decades now, doing everything in his power to stave off humanity's extinction. He didn't harm people without a very good reason.

But these people wouldn't know that. He knew what it looked like to them.

So what exactly made him "just like her"?

John supposed it didn't matter. Cortana wanted another omni-tool to work with. He should focus on that.

"She seems nice."

Speak of the AI and she doth appear. "The Quarian?"

"Yeah. She's not a soldier and she's not a psycho. She's genuinely nice. And have you seen those hips?"

"What about them?"

"They're easy on the eyes. The latex spacesuit helps. A shame she's stuck in it."

The Chief recalled something about that. They were defeated in a massive war after having created the Geth, artificial intelligences that got too smart. "The atypical immune system would kill her without it."

"Like I said. A shame. Still, I like her, too."

Didn't the quarians hate all forms of AI's? "I don't think she would like you."

"Semantics. So! Let's get that omni-tool, shall we?"

Cortana seemed unusually cheery. Normally, she reserved that cheeriness for when she was executing one of her schemes. Maybe the Normandy's crew and systems were just more interesting to her than those of a UNSC ship?

The door to the armory was still open, though Jacob Taylor was nowhere to be found. The Chief supposed it was for the better; he would prefer to be able to do his duty without constantly encountering other people who liked stirring up conversations.

That was one thing he and Shepard didn't have in common. Even her files pointed out that she loved talking. One of the analyses he had read on the extranet even alluded to that: "never let her talk", according to the rules of engagement formulated by some Terminus organizations. "If you let her talk, you're already screwed".

The Master Chief picked up one of the spare omni-tools from the equipment locker and pocketed it. At first, he had thought the Commander's reputation was somewhat farfetched. The military records Cortana had uncovered, however, were legit. Shepard's feats were legendary. They ranged from single-handedly stopping a pirate invasion on Elysium to setting international records for Biotic potential. She had talked down terrorists, cult leaders and even PTSD-crazed veterans.

Just two years ago, she had talked a rogue Spectre to death.

Literally. Saren Arterius had committed suicide after the Commander was through with him. An allegedly-brainwashed anti-human extremist eager to usher in the return of the Reapers, and Shepard talked him to death.

He was pretty sure that even Mendez would have been impressed with that.

"So what are your plans with this thing?" The Chief asked upon his return to the hangar bay.

"Remember when I told you about the combat applications of omni-tools? The various offensive abilities made possible by omni-gel?"

"Like the flashbang and the EMP-stun?"

"So you did pay attention. Well, if I can cannibalize parts of the other tool's code and hardware, I should be able to supply my minions with enough orders to make it work."

The Chief raised his brow. "Your minions?"

"The nanomachines in your suit. They're still repairing the MJOLNIR's damage, but I can reassign them to the omni-tool to start updating it. They're nanomachines, you know. If you feed them more materials, they'll build more of themselves."

He knew how nanomachines worked. Every Spartan had been briefed on the extensive nanotechnology that made the hydrogen-injected internal combustion engine and space elevator work. Still, that was different. "Just be careful. The last thing we need is nanomachines going crazy and causing a hull breach."

"Still worrying about that? I'm a Smart AI, Chief. I can control some nanomachines."

The Spartan sighed. "Fine. Do your thing…"

"Great. Now, I just need you to hold these parts…"

The two of them tinkered with the two omni-tools for about two hours before Cortana suddenly declared that she got it. After that, she told the Chief that he could go catch some shut-eye while she wrote the code, which he didn't object to.

He just hoped things would get be better the next "day-shift".

~0~


Violence was a good way to settle things peacefully. Garrus was livid with how Jane had handled things with Sidonis, choosing to spare him instead of letting Garrus pop his little turian head. It had taken him the rest of that day to get over her decision, but apparently that wasn't enough.

So Jane had done the next best "sensible" thing; stay on Garrus' spiny behind until he either forgave her or got into a fight with her.

So he proceeded to challenge her to a fight and here she was, standing in a makeshift circle with Mess Sergeant Gardner as the referee smack dab in the middle of the crew quarters.

At least Jack and Zaeed were making a killing broking the bets…

A sparring match shouldn't be that brutal, but Jane felt like it was personal. At least, for Garrus it was. She had brawled with Wrex plenty of times but he had never attacked her so ferociously as Garrus did. Fighting Wrex had been more about establishing dominance. Fighting Garrus was more like letting him vent.

If she had to guess, the turian was burning away every ounce of anger and frustration he had been bottling up since they originally took down Saren. Sidonis, the mercenary gangs, maybe even his father. Those were proper targets.

The problem was that Garrus was a competent fighter with plenty of issues and Jane was probably the only person he knew who would take whatever he wanted to dish out. Well, the only person he trusted, anyway.

So Jane let him vent. She didn't use her Biotics, didn't use any martial arts except for basic hits and counters. The fight only ended when Garrus threw a particularly-nasty jab at her face, which she avoided by ducking underneath his arm and landing an equally-nasty blow of her own. And by that time, half her crew was watching the fight.

Shepard rolled with her eyes and threw the turian to the ground over her hip, before pinning him down by his cowl.

He looked exhausted, with all his anger burned away. Which was a good thing, because Shepard hadn't taken that much hits since her last game of "gang up on the human" with two Blood Pack krogan.

"Hot damn!" She heard Gardner yell. "Game set and match! Victory goes to the Commander!"

Grunt couldn't contain his happiness. "Battlemasturrr!" He barked. "Hah!"

Jane glanced at Garrus, who shrugged.

"You are such an inspiration for our little krogan…" muttered the turian.

Jane chuckled. "Someone needs to raise him."

She helped her teammate back to his feet. After a few grudging moments, he gave her a nod.

Hah. Victory. All Garrus' pissiness had left his system.

"No victory dance, Commander?" He then yelled, prompting half the crew to erupt into laughter.

And just like that, Jane felt her good mood evaporate. How the flying fuck had they discovered that she…that she lacked in the dancing department? "I save those for actual victories."

The laughing turned into a crescendo of "ooh's" and "aah's!".

"Touché. Looking forward to seeing that one again, Commander."

And just like that, the spectacle was gone and everybody returned to their quarters. Jack and Zaeed shared their profit together and Gardner peacefully returned to the kitchen.

Jane flexed her shoulders, which were kind of sore after the beatdown she just delivered. Not quite as sore as her sides, though. Garrus wasn't kidding; he really did have reach.

She spotted the hard-to-miss form of the Master Chief, who towered over the rest of the crew even without his special power armor. While the last of her crew left for the other decks, he remained. Odd.

"Hey Chief," she said, casually approaching the super-soldier. She saw that he was still wearing his helmet, even though there was no reason he should. "How are you?"

He stiffened in response, even though it had been weeks since she first told him that she wasn't technically his commanding officer. Old habits died hard, she supposed. "Green, ma'am."

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a questioning look. "Yeah, I see that. I also see you're still walking. People don't generally walk that much after a powerful Biotic is through with them."

"I should have been sharper. It won't happen again."

Now she understood why he wore his helmet, too. Without it, it would be all too easy to read him. For her, at least. "Hey, walk with me for a moment."

The Commander didn't wait for his response and quickly made her way to the medical bay, where there wouldn't be anyone overhearing them. Chakwas was still discussing something with Mordin and right now, there weren't any wounded. She'd like to keep it that way.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, John," she continued. "Sometimes, bad things just happen."

"I don't fail missions, Commander. I never have before."

Jane gave him a look. "You never failed? Not even once?"

He stared back at from her from behind his hardsuit's helmet. She had no idea what he was thinking, but his silence spoke volumes.

"Like I said, bad things happen. I've failed missions, too. It's not your fault Sha'ira died and neither is it your fault the assassin got away."

"There was a friendly fire incident. People died, when they shouldn't have."

Jane winced. "Yeah, that's kind of your fault…" Her mind raced to find her a combination of words that would help defuse this situation. She knew of his excessive military past and how secretive he and Cortana were about that past. If she had to guess, there were plenty of mental scars from his war with the Covenant. Anxiety, perhaps even PTSD.

In any case, it was clear that he felt remorseful. That was a thing.

"…but…I was forced to kill people I didn't want to as well. Self-defence in the greyest of areas. They jumped the gun on you and you acted to defend yourself. I told Commander Bailey the same thing."

She wanted to continue and tell the Chief that he was a good man who had already gone up and beyond the call of duty many times before, except Joker thought it was a good idea to interrupt her before she could do so.

"Commander? The Illusive Man wants to speak to you. Apparently, it's about New Canton."

Shepard grimaced. "Got it, Joker." She looked at the Chief and quickly said, "I'm coming back on this. Take it easy. There's not a single person aboard this ship who blames you for what happened. Except for, you know, Miranda. And Kasumi, a bit. Gabe, too…Rolston, but only because he doesn't know the whole story. My point is, I'll be right back."

Jane inwardly winced as she left the Chief behind. Sometimes, she really ought to stop talking.

She vowed to blame Tim for that. Hearing that he wanted to talk to her threw her entire agenda into disarray.

Yeah. That was it. Totally.

She made her way to the Comm room. The ship's quantum entanglement based communications array activated, the table popped down, the comms popped out and before she knew it, she was enjoying the privilege of having a realtime conversation with someone who caused flashback nightmares to her high school exams.

"Heeeey…"

The Illusive Guy exhaled a plume of smoke. "Shepard. I…don't normally do these things, so I'll make it brief. The Batarian warships you encountered on New Canton? We found them."

Batarian. Frigates, heavy ones. A slaver invasion force in New Canton, just like on Elysium, just like on Mindoir.

Jane felt the corners of her mouth rise into a smile, just a bit.

"Commander?"

"Where," she growled.

He looked at her with a mixture of weariness and…something she couldn't quite place. "Omega. Word is, someone aboard Omega placed a large order via Blood Pack officials. Those officials rerouted the order to the slaver party you and the Master Chief stopped on New Canton. They're at Omega."

Shepard didn't wait for the man to finish. She booked it out of the room, yelled an order at Joker to get them to the Omega Nebula and immediately moved to gather her gear.

~0~


The Normandy was moving, faster than it normally did. People were running around carrying weapons and other equipment.

John stood in the back of the CIC, watching Shepard bark orders like a UNSC Commander would do. The people she directed obeyed her without question, with a diligence and efficiency that would make even veteran navy personnel proud.

But it wasn't like her. Something was wrong. John's instinct screamed at him that something had come up and if there was one thing a Spartan should do, something any Spartan should always do, it was listening to their instinct.

"Cortana?" He quietly asked. He knew that his helmet could block his speech so that nobody on the outside would hear him, but his gut told him to simply stay still. Like he was in the presence of stealthed Elites, who hadn't noticed him yet. Somehow, Commander Shepard felt like a completely different person and his gut told him to be very careful.

Funny feeling.

Kurt would have known.

"Mindoir…" whispered the AI.

"Excuse me?"

"We are on-course to the Omega Nebula, the Sahrabarik System. We're heading to Omega."

The Chief frowned. He had read about Omega. A hive filled with the worst sort of scum. Mercenaries, who had been given a dishonourable discharge from their old military unit were among the least problematic individuals one could encounter on Omega.

Go to Illium, sell your life. Go to Omega, sell your soul. Or so the old saying supposedly went.

The Master Chief had thought it an overly dramatic line of poetry, but now…he wasn't so sure.

"Omega has a population of seven point eight million. Most of them are the type of people Spartans would get sent in against. Chief, make no mistake. If you make someone your enemy there, it'll be the Collector ship all over again."

"Noted."

He straightened his back when he saw the Commander approach him. Gone was the casual way she strolled around the deck, or the kind glimmer in her green eyes. Right now, she reminded him more of an armed Elite than anything else.

Primed. Ready to pounce.

"Master Chief, get your gear. Close quarters combat. Prep your suit; you're going to need it."

"Ma'am!" He snapped off a brief salute and immediately headed towards the elevator. The Commander's clear and simple orders cut through the confusion and apprehension like a knife. He completely set aside his worries about the situation and focused on the upcoming fight, like he had a thousand times before.

"Did you repair the MJOLNIR?" He asked Cortana as the elevator descended towards the hangar bay.

"Mostly. The outer shell is still compromised, but you air is rated for vacuum again. Shields are functioning, but it will take a while before the reactor is safe enough to siphon it for more explorative options. You'll have diminished shielding during this op."

"Understood. Omni-tool?"

With a burst of blue light, Cortana's holographic avatar appeared from the MJOLNIR's right wrist.

She waved at him even as she spoke from the hardsuit's internal Comm. "Combat applications loaded. Stun blast active. EMP pulse will drain your shields, but active. Omni-dagger, silicon-carbide weapon flash-forged by the tool's mini-fabricator, active."

The Spartan paused. "Flash-forged by a mini-fabricator?"

"Omni-gel. Not as good as AI-controlled nanobots, but hey, a girl's gotta have something to work with. It's diamond coated -compressed carbon gives it a real nice edge. While's it's no energy sword, it'll still cut it in a pinch."

Seeing what she had done there, the Master Chief nodded and activated the engineering drone that had been stashed away on-deck. With Cortana controlling it, the long, tedious process of rebuilding the MJOLNIR around his body started anew.

But the Spartan was eager to be back inside his suit. Without it, he felt naked. Vulnerable. He wouldn't have lost to that strange asari with it and he certainly would have reacted in time to prevent hostilities with those C-Sec forces.

He continued on and grabbed an assault rifle and a shotgun for close work. He stuffed a sidearm into his holster and pocketed four high-explosive fragmentation grenades just in case. He took seven magazines of ammunition for his MA5; he wasn't about to let anyone else die on his watch, especially not crew from the Normandy.

It took the ship another few hours to reach the nearest Mass Relay. From there however, it took them mere seconds to hit the Relay, propelling them hundreds of lightyears in a single bound.

The Master Chief ejected his magazine, checked to see if it was full and then slapped it back in place with a satisfying clack. He then did the same thing with Cortana's chip and the back of his helmet. As always, chilled mercury filled his mind when Cortana fused with his thoughts.

"Ah…feels good to be home."

The Spartan couldn't agree more.

~0~


Omega Station

Hrakk Graglag groaned weakly. He felt the salty taste of blood in his mouth and when he tried to breathe, his chest hurt.

Damnit. One of his ribs had to be broken…

This would be the last time he trusted Batarian State Arms! He had been assured that the neural jacks worked perfectly! That, once embedded into the base of the skull, they completely prevented free thought!

So when a single human slave just barged into the cattle-hold and started killing the guards there, one might have understood Hrakk freaking out. Said freak-out turned into outright panic when the pale-skinned worm unleashed a Biotic attack strong enough to shatter the windows, exposing their room to the filthy air of the Omega skyroad.

How in the blazing hells had the guards not checked that little freak for an Amp?

But Hrakk hadn't survived a decade of slaving just to die in a simple outbreak; when he saw the human weakling show that he wasn't such a weakling after all, smearing the walls with the other guards, he decided on the best course of action for a veteran snatcher like himself to stay alive.

So he pretended to be dead.

He overheard the human talking, and carefully opened one of his eyes, hoping to catch a better image of the merchandise he and his comrades would soon be dragging through the streets, naked and screaming.

His translator still worked; it automatically picked up what the human was saying and translated it to the major Batarian dialect.

"Mom!" Yelled the human. He rushed to the side of one of the older females and gently helped her up, cradling her in arms that were soaked in the blood of good Batarians. "Mom, are you okay? Can you talk?"

The woman muttered something in return, but Krakk couldn't hear what it was.

He couldn't for the life of him imagine how the human could withstand the implant; they were designed to inflict unimaginable agony, when tampered with. Slaves didn't run free once implanted, they didn't!

"Come on," whispered the human. "We need to get the hell out of here, before they come back!"

The female -the young slave's mother, Hrakk now understood- slowly reached out and touched his chest. "You used Biotics…you shouldn't…"

The child-slave uttered a short, humourless laugh. "They're just aliens."

"What…what about the others?"

The younger slave looked around, glancing at the various slaves gathered around him. Most were human, though there were a few asari and turians as well. Batarians, too. Lower castes…worthless.

Hrakk quickly closed his eyes, lest the monstrous Biotic discover he was still alive.

"They're not important. They're not you. Now come on!"

Despite his precarious situation, Hrakk couldn't keep himself from feeling victorious. Just aliens…not important…hah! That right there validated everything the Hegemony told them about humans. Racist, xenophobic bastards who only cared about their own.

The woman could be heard stumbling and Hrakk risked another look. She was implanted, like the rest. She wouldn't simply be walking out of here without its explicit permission to do so…and that wouldn't happen.

He could hear rapid footsteps approaching them. The human heard them too and Biotically slammed the doors shut, before throwing several heavy objects in front ofit.

And then he wavered. Fool. Let him burn up his energy trying to get his family out. He'd pay for this. They'd all pay.

The boy hauled his mother to her feet and tried to aid her towards the exit, but he didn't get more than a few feet before the barricaded doors exploded outwards in a whirlwind of Biotic energy.

Blue light washed over everyone in the room and even Hrakk got blasted off his feet. Only his armor saved him from getting his organs pulped against the wall. Several slaves weren't as lucky; when the Queen herself breached the room, everybody still standing got dashed to the walls and crushed to a pulp.

The Batarian tried to laugh triumphantly, but he only managed to squeeze out a wheezing cough. Still, watching Aria T'Loak herself stride into the room, surrounded with her soldiers, was one of the best sights ever.

And she looked pissed.

"Nothing on this station happens without me knowing it, " she hissed. "Nothing. Merchandise such as yourself should know better, meat!"

The human Biotic insulted the Queen's very name by ignoring her. While she put him in his place, the slave merely climbed back to his feet and crawled to the limp body of his mother, who, just like every other slave in the room, had not been spared Aria's justice. That the boy was still alive was strange enough; Hrakk had seen first-hand what happened to victims of Omega's Queen, when they incurred her wrath. The results weren't pretty.

It was pathetic, seeing him ire Aria trying to shake his mother awake, oblivious to the fact that she was so obviously dead.

Mom, he yelled at her body as if it could still hear him. Mom.

Though the desperation in his voice as he called her name meant he just might have figured it out.

The Pirate Queen noticed that he wasn't listening and advanced on him, pulling out her Carnifex in the process.

"I've paid my dues for you. We all have. Dealing with slavers is always a hassle and you have undone everything, you miserable little wretch…"

Aria kicked him in the side, knocking him on his back. She then placed her boot on his throat and took aim at his head.

"So consider this a kindness. Few get it."

But the piece of meat didn't consider it anything. With a wordless scream of rage, he grabbed a hold of her boot and unleashed a powerful surge of Biotic energy, knocking her back a few feet. He tried to get back on his feet, but Aria allowed no such thing. She Biotically Pushed him with enough force to send him flying out the window, down the starry skyroads of Omega's twisting streets.

They wouldn't be bothered by that defective cattle again.

But the Queen seemed to think otherwise. She stepped over the corpse of one of the killed slaves and looked out the window, glancing around.

"Tell Captain Gor'vak to get lost," she ordered one of her men. "His ship attracts too much attention. Send word out on the streets, too. A little human wretch thinks it can fuck with Omega."

~0~


Aboard Normandy Shuttle 01

The Master Chief glanced at the red space station with a sense of dawning unease. He saw swarms of smaller ships circling around the massive mined-out asteroid and from a distance, they could be mistaken for warships.

"I know what you're thinking," said Cortana. "The similarities are uncanny."

"High Charity was destroyed," he calmly said. More to reassure himself than Cortana. "We destroyed it."

"You're completely right. Don't worry; Omega is about as large as the Citadel. Forty kilometres, max. It probably has a main reactor, too. You know, just in case you think the resemblance become too uncanny."

The Master Chief checked the display of his assault rifle for the third time. "I don't think that would be necessary."

The shuttle docked in one of the smaller openings at the bottom of the asteroid-segment, after which the shore party entered Omega. Jacob Taylor, Zaeed Massani and Miranda Lawson casually left the shuttle and the Chief warily followed them into the dark hallway with flashing red lights.

Shepard led the way and the rest loyally followed her. Except for Jacob Taylor, who lagged behind somewhat.

The Master Chief didn't pay him much attention and walked past him. He immediately turned to face the man when he reached out for him, however.

"Master Chief, a word, please?" Said Jacob.

The Chief didn't particularly feel like having a word, but Jacob seemed somewhat worried. So he gestured with his head in the universal "go ahead" signal.

"Omega is ruled by an asari called "Aria T'Loak". Read about her?"

"Not much."

Jacob scratched his neck in unease and continued. "Well…she's the de facto reader of Omega. A pirate queen, a mercenary and, according to Shepard, a ruthless and corrupt killer."

The Chief didn't see why that would pose a problem. "So?"

"It's complicated. She's old, at least old enough to be a Matriarch. She's a very powerful Biotic and her organization is loyal to the core. No matter who she deals with, she makes sure she has the upper hand in the bargaining and the worst thing of all…she always tries to get the last word in a conversation."

That got the Spartan's attention alright. "But Shepard always wants the last word."

Jacob nodded. "You're starting to see the picture. If you think Miranda and Jack are bad, wait until you see Shepard and Aria together. The Commander hates her guts and the feeling is completely mutual."

"Mutual?" What had Shepard done to this Aria to make her hate the woman?

"I don't need to tell you that batarians don't go well with Shepard. Aria likes to employ them a lot, especially when it involves Shepard. The first time we came here, the Commander savaged the batarian sent to escort her to the club where Aria resided, Afterlife. Aria never forgot that."

The Chief could approve of that. "So, we kill her?"

"What?" Jacob seemed mortified. "No! A fight is the last thing we want! Aria is a very powerful and very dangerous individual. She and Shepard will try to provoke each other as much as possible and the last thing we need is that to escalate! We're here to keep Shepard from attacking her!"

"Commander Shepard is a highly lethal vector on her own," replied the Spartan. "If she thinks Aria is better off dead, I won't hesitate."

"Chief!" Jacob replied like the Spartan just proposed a one-Shepard assault on the station. "We're good, but Aria has an army!"

At this point, John really couldn't be bothered to care about a bunch of privateers and mercenaries, especially not when they potentially hid the slavers responsible for sacking New Canton. "Don't we have a krogan?"

And with that, the Master Chief hurried to join Shepard before she got too far ahead.

"We have a krogan. AND a psychotic biotic. AND a cranky Spartan! But in all seriousness, perhaps you should wait before engaging your next powerful Biotic user. It's hard to repair warped materials."

"Jacob wasn't there on New Canton," the Chief quietly replied. "Those slavers were no better than the Covenant. If this asari is actively hiding them…"

"Then Shepard will deal with that her own way. Besides; remember what we talked about before? Seven point eight million inhabitants? Collector ship flashbacks?"

"I'll be careful."

"Good. And in the meantime, I found some interesting radio signatures to work with. Patching them through to Shepard."

The Commander stopped when she exited the first door, right in the middle of what looked like an open space. There was a large structure up ahead, with several rows of people standing in line of a single large door. The words above it read "AFTERLIFE".

Aria's club.

To the left, the sky-lines of Omega could be seen. Skycars raced around and multiple districts were visible beyond the rim.

"Hang on…" said the Commander. "Something's wrong, something's…EDI?"

"Commander. I am receiving secured transmissions from a slaver Frigate. Apparently, one of the slaves escaped custody. He was last seen in the slums, trying to evade patrols."

Cortana laughed. "Hah. A badly-secured transmission. Let me see…apparently, our escaped slave is armed and highly dangerous. Strange."

"Commander?"

"You don't just escape a batarian slave vessel…" muttered Shepard. "It doesn't happen. EDI…who is this person?"

"Unknown."

"Yeah, yeah…hope my little friend knows…"

"Oh!" Said Cortana. "That's me! Let's see…Omega has an interesting administration system…randomly-generated, procedurally-forged, but not all that's it made up to be…apparently, our escaped slave carries an Amp."

"So that's what I've been feeling…"

Miranda turned to face the Commander, while Zaeed started appreciating the sight of the slums. "Ehm…Shepard?"

"Just a funny feeling…'member Samara? Her attuning to Biotics?"

"Yeah…I do?"

"Something out here is making a mess of things. Come on, I want to see it."

It was apparently normal for the Commander to just run off somewhere, as she immediately darted off to her left, where a small exit led to a different district.

"Damnit!" Snapped Miranda. "Not again…"

Very normal.

The Master Chief made sure to go last, so that he could cover the squad as they ran down narrow alleys and corridors, chasing Shepard as she trailed something that got her attention.

It was definitely an odd feeling, not taking point. For the past fifty battles he had been the one to lead the team through whatever hostiles area needed exploration. From cramped freighters to icy glaciers, from chaotic Cruisers to wide open plains. Everywhere he went, he went guns blazing, leading a team of Marines, or ODST's, or even Elites.

But not Spartans. He didn't even know if his Spartans were even alive. They might have perished during the Covenant's assault on Earth, along with the other millions of civilians and soldiers. He hadn't seen them on the Ark.

He shook those thoughts out of his head and focused on keeping the shore party alive. There were people around them, yelling at them as they ran by. In the distance, something exploded, but nobody seemed to care.

And the place stank, even through the MJOLNIR's filters. Was this what Omega was like? As bad as the extranet had made it look?

How exactly the Commander knew where to go, the Chief didn't know. She ducked into narrow alleys, climbed atop the roof of what appeared to be a slum-district and sprinted towards an impact site in the centre.

Something raced across his motion scanner behind him and he whirled around, gun at the ready.

There wasn't anything.

He was puzzled, but he couldn't allow that to keep him for long. He pushed the strange contact out of his mind and continued chasing after the Commander, who didn't possess the luxury of a motion scanner and was thus unable to detect such fast-moving signatures.

He didn't need to go very far, fortunately. Whatever it was she was looking for, she had found it here in the slums. She, along with Miranda, stopped near the blown-out remains of a building, where several figures lay sprawled across the ground. Two humans, one of which was scarcely clad, one batarian and an asari.

The Commander got down on one knee and surveyed the area. "Hah…found it."

"Commander, what did you find?" Miranda said with an exasperated voice. If she was frustrated with the Commander, she didn't show it.

"Obvious, 'innit?" Quipped Zaeed Massani. "A bunch of corpses."

Jacob sighed. "Yes, we can see that. Commander, I must ask. What are we going to do here?"

The signature was back. The Chief turned to his left and spotted something small and purple flying around the edges of the slum. His training kicked in. Time slowed down as he aligned the sights of his assault rifle with the target and he brought his finger to the trigger, ready to squeeze-

Only for the target to suddenly snap out of the air and towards them in a very erratic pattern, engulfed in the blue corona of Biotic fields.

"There we go," said Shepard. She had one arm extended to the little target, which the Chief now recognized as a drone. With a mounted camera, no less. "Finally got you. Surprised you didn't get it before, Chief. How did you know I wanted it intact?"

John lowered his gun. "…lucky guess?"

"Lucky number one one seven. Zaeed, would you hold this for a moment?"

The mercenary eagerly took the captured drone and promptly ripped a piece of electronics out, disabling its flight capabilities. "Heheh…a model ninety-two. Very old. I remember when my old team and I first encountered one, couple of years ago. It was a freezing winter in eighty-one…"

As Zaeed started reminiscing about ancient history with himself, the Commander gestured at Jacob, who immediately snapped to attention and joined her.

"Chief, Miranda, keep an eye out for more. I'm going to have a looksee."

The Master Chief, who had no idea what a looksie was, raised his gun again and moved to cover their entrance. It felt strange, obeying direct orders in a combat position. Just as strange as not taking point, he supposed. Not that he disliked it; in fact, he felt strangely comfortable taking Shepard's orders. He doubted any UNSC officer could have replicated that effect.

Except for Jacob Keyes or his daughter, Miranda. More exemplary individuals taken by the war, more people he had failed to protect-

He shook his head and sighed. Reminding himself wouldn't help his current position. His mind had to stop doing that.

"Hello there," he heard the Commander gently speak. She spoke soft enough to go practically unheard, but the MJOLNIR's powerful systems allowed him to pick up a whisper in a storm. "Take it easy, I'm a friend."

Someone weakly groaned.

"I'm not going to hurt you…"

A flare of brilliant light immediately got the Chief's attention and he spun around, ready to cover the Commander and riddle any hostile target with bullets. Miranda and Zaeed reacted a fraction of a second later, but they too immediately responded to any threat to their commanding officer.

Shepard sat kneeling next to one of the humans, holding him by his wrist and his forehead. Both of them were glowing with Biotic energy, though the red hint of the Commander's won out. The human she held -a teenager- struggled for a few seconds before suddenly glowing limp.

"There we go…"

"Commander!" Shouted Miranda. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Shepard casually waved her concerns away. "The kid's not though. This whole place feels like it got caught in a Biotic explosion. It's all…vibrating and humming. Has been for a while. Thought it might be a good idea to check it out, but then the drone started following us and it became an even better idea to check it out. Still got it, Zaeed?"

"Yes ma'am!" Zaeed spoke with a soft chuckle.

"Good. Take its data-chip and then dump it…right there."

"On it."

The Chief took a look at the person Shepard had been after. It was a human male, barely an adolescent. His hair was blond and dirty and when Shepard carefully picked him up, the Chief saw that his back was covered with angry crisscrossing scars.

"I'll be goddamned…" muttered Zaeed. "Those scars…"

"Yup."

"What about them?" Asked Jacob.

Zaeed scowled. "That's Batarian work. Look at his neck."

"Nope." Shepard instead used her Biotics to pluck a piece of fabric from underneath a pile of rubble. The remains of a carpet, or maybe curtains. She used them to cover the boy up somewhat. "You're right, of course, but first we're going to get him out of here."

"I don't get it," said Miranda. "What about his neck? Shepard, who is this?"

"If you look at his neck, you will find the scars of a crude surgical procedure. Batarians just love to implant their slaves with neural jacks, to keep them nice and meek. I think we found the lost slave. He even has an Amp…morons didn't remove it."

"If that's the slave," said Jacob, "The "masters" can't be far away."

It was that moment that the Master Chief's motion sensor registered more movement, somewhere behind them. "Commander," he called. "We've got company. Twenty meters away, five contacts."

Shepard sighed. "Zaeed, Jacob, take the kid and bring him back to the Normandy. Don't let anyone see you, least of all her."

Both men snapped to attention and moved to pick the boy up. The Chief, realizing he was now dealing with a VIP situation, adjusted accordingly. "Commander, permission to engage?"

Shepard made a face. "I hate conundrums…no, no…damnit."

She muttered that last part, but the Chief still caught it. Miranda moved to take Shepard's left flank and John, somewhat confused why they weren't engaging the targets, moved to take the right.

"Neural jacks…I don't think that has the same benign reasons for implanting as the neural interface," said Cortana. "To keep them nice and meek…that implies motoric disablers and perhaps cognitive disturbance. A portable lobotomy."

The Master Chief didn't like the sound of that, but right now, he needed to concentrate on winning this fight. The contacts casually wandered out in the open and the Chief suppressed the desire to simply open fire and cut them all down.

That they would enter a hostile area in such a loose formation meant they were either very foolish, or very confident.

The group was led by an asari with purple skin. She wore an open white vest and black, leather pants. She had markings on her skin, too, but nothing like the asari he had seen before. Two batarians stood at her flank. They, in turn, were followed by two turians.

Who was she? The owner of the slave? Or was this Aria T'Loak, the asari he had been warned against?

The Chief supposed he'd find out soon enough. He did take an instant dislike to her, however.

"Shepard," spoke the asari. Her voice was laced with annoyance, but also confidence. She carried herself with an air of command that felt somehow different from Shepard's. "There is only one rule on Omega. Recite it."

No, she didn't just carry herself with an air of command. It was like she expected more than that. Obedience, perhaps. Beyond military reasons. Total obedience, which others would hurry to offer. She would expect that.

It reminded him of Regret.

The Commander stared back with a sly smirk. It didn't meet her eyes. "Hmm…had a busy week, Aria. Lots of things happened, not all of it pretty. Bring me your big blue book of justice and I'll recite it."

Aria T'Loak's eyes narrowed and the Chief noticed that she clenched her fists. He tensed up, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

And she saw it. Somehow, his change in mentality was reflected in his appearance, as the asari broke her staring contest with the Commander to look at him instead.

That moment didn't last long, as her eyes flashed back to Jane after a few moments. "I thought I made myself clear the last time. Nothing on Omega even twitches or I know about it."

Now Shepard's smile disappeared. "Yes, I do remember that. Nothing happens on this station or the queen herself knows about it. So tell me, what's a batarian slave frigate doing here?"

"None of your damn business. Always the batarians with you…" she shot a sideways glance at one of her subordinates. "I would almost be tempted to think you were obsessed."

Miranda tensed up as well.

T'Loak didn't pay any attention to her.

"I had a fallout with them on an Alliance colony, where I butchered their little friends. I don't think you look like a human, Aria. But I think I do. So when slavers try to kidnap the civilians I am sworn to protect, that would kind of make it my business." There was a slight hint of challenge in her voice.

Nothing visibly changed, but the air suddenly felt very heavy. Three powerful Biotics were getting ready to open up on each other and he was standing right in the middle.

Strangely, the Chief felt very calm.

"It stopped being your business when you arrived on Omega. I own this place, Shepard, and you're coming very close to breaking my only rule. Return my property to me. Or don't, I don't care. Either way, I'm taking it."

"Chief, be a sweetie and return Miss T'Loak's property to her, would you?" said the Commander.

Cortana snickered and placed a waypoint on the Spartan's HUD, right where Zaeed Massani had dumped the drone.

Without its footage.

Have I mentioned how much I like her today? I don't think I have."

The Spartan immediately marched over towards the drone and picked it up with one hand. The metallic frame felt strangely heavy for such a small machine. It had been up-armored to help it resist small arms fire.

He brought the now-defunct drone back to the asari and offered it to her.

Aria T'Loak glared at him. It reminded him of a Brute Chieftain whose pack had been killed off. By him.

She gestured with her head to one of the batarians, who immediately shot forwards and grabbed a hold of the drone. The Chief released it a split-second before the alien could get a proper grip on it, causing the batarian to stumble and nearly drop it.

He lowered his arm again and was about to move back to Shepard's side when Aria's hand shot out and seized his wrist.

A Zealot couldn't have held him down, but there was something about the gesture that made him hesitate to rip his hand free. He had a feeling that this entire meeting would blow up if he did and the Commander and Miss Lawson were both standing in the open. He might be able to incapacitate Aria's team in close quarters combat before they could open fire, but he didn't want to risk it.

So he met her eyes and, in doing so, engaged her in that little power-play she had going on. She might have centuries of experience, but he never lost.

"And who…might you be?" She quietly said.

"That's just the Chief," Jane quickly said. A bit too quickly, even for her. Was it just him, or did she sound somewhat concerned?

"You're a new one…" continued Aria. Her eyes glimmered with recognition and her lips parted in slight smile. "Ah, you are the Master Chief."

Now she had John's attention. He slowly lowered his wrist, felt her struggle with resistance and continued unopposed. Eventually, she relented and released his wrist.

"Don't play games with me Shepard," T'Loak then said, but she never took her eyes off of the Spartan. "You're making powerful enemies. If I find out you stole from me, not even The Illusive Man can keep you safe."

"The Illusive Man isn't the one keeping her safe," the Chief softly said, against his better judgement. Everything about this person felt wrong and his instinct screamed at him to eliminate her with extreme prejudice, like he would when a pair of Hunters engaged a lone Marine.

Except, she felt more dangerous than a pair of Hunters. He found it difficult to reason why, however.

But he would not let veiled threats to the Commander slide.

"Charming," Aria replied sarcastically. "Hop back to your master, tin soldier. Your kind doesn't last long on Omega without restraint."

Shepard took a few steps towards him and stopped at his side. "I'm not his master. I don't have a leash…and people who do quickly find out that it's a very small galaxy when I find out. Just something to keep in mind, Aria."

The two women stared at each other again, trying to establish some form of dominance no doubt. Eventually, T'Loak gestured to her lackeys again and they stepped out of the way.

Shepard threw the asari one last glare and then walked past her, with Miranda on her heels.

The Master Chief didn't need an order that time and quickly fell in line, eager to get out of that place ASAP.

Hollowed-out asteroids filled with privateers and outlaws…it was like the Insurrection all over again. And this time, it wasn't a defected UNSC officer who led them but a psychotic Biotic warlord. Aria T'Loak…Jacob Taylor had been completely right about her.

"Well, that was…interesting," Said Cortana. "I don't like her."

The Chief snorted. "She seems dangerous. If we keep operating in this rock, we will have to neutralize her."

"Just as long as you're not wearing a normal hardsuit, I'm game. She is a surprisingly-hard woman to keep tabs on, but even a ruthless pirate queen has files. I'm saving the cracking process for a special occasion."

"Shepard?" Miranda eventually broke the silence. "I think it's safe to say that you royally pissed her off this time."

"She had it coming. Everything must end one day, Miranda. Everything. The krogan know that better than most, even though few want to admit it. She's been playing the part of the ruthless cutthroat for three centuries. So many have died because of her, I doubt even EDI could give me a decent number."

The Master Chief supposed that Shepard's logic had to apply to herself as well. "What about the slaves?" He asked. "The batarian Frigate?"

"Not here, not now. First, we're going to make sure our escapee survives the next twenty-four hours. We're in the Terminus Systems, so neither Alliance nor Council jurisdiction actually counts here."

"Even if it did, the Alliance wouldn't risk it," Miranda bitterly remarked.

"Ouch. Seems there's some bad history there."

"That lack of jurisdiction goes both ways," said the Chief. "If your…Alliance…won't step in, we should."

They reached the airlock that led to their shuttle. Zaeed and Jacob were already waiting for them there, weapons at the ready.

"Shepard!" Zaeed yelled with a voice that seemed uncharacteristically happy. "Hell of a time with you! Aria T'Loak, now there's a story!"

"Sorry Zaeed, storytime has to wait. How's our guest?"

The mercenary pointed a thumb at the shuttle. "Napping in the back. He won't be waking up anytime soon, I think."

"That was very close, Commander," said Jacob. "Diving into Omega's slums like that. Please tell me you didn't antagonize Aria further."

Shepard shrugged. "It's a principle thing. Anyone else starving? I heard Rupert doesn't use asses anymore."

As the squad boarded the shuttle and moved to rendezvous with the Normandy again, John realized that something didn't make sense. "Cortana? What did we achieve, back there?"

"What do you mean?"

"We went after the batarian Frigate for a reason. But we didn't find the slavers, nor did we free the slaves. What did we accomplish?"

"You didn't follow the whole deal with Aria and Jane, did you?"

He frowned. "Of course I did. It nearly escalated."

Cortana sighed. "Of course he did…Chief, Aria T'Loak and Jane have history together. Jacob hinted at that, remember? Aria was the one who bought these slaves, she paid the batarians for the humans they took."

"I guessed as much. But one escaped."

"Yup. And the queen-bitch was very pissed that she lost him. Nevertheless, there is one other problem."

John, who wasn't used to Cortana being this blunt, was still processing that she had sworn, when she directed his attention back to the bombshell Aria had dropped.

"She knows about you. More than she should."

He recalled that part of the conversation too. "She knows my rank. Either someone's informing her, or she has access to the Normandy's files."

"Or she paid a third party to observe you and Shepard, or she found the Dawn's wreckage, or her drone overheard us talking. There are many ways she could have found out. What's more important is that she took an interest in you."

Great. Another crazy asari after his head. "We really should have killed her when he had the chance."

"Maybe. I think we should focus on the asari from the Citadel first. There was something about her that doesn't sit right with me…"

The shuttle eventually docked with the Normandy and the ground team filed in through the airlock. Zaeed, Miranda and Jacob immediately made a beeline for the CIC, but Shepard lingered near the airlock.

The Chief was about to bid his goodbye and return to his quarters when Cortana scraped her throat.

"Nah-ah. Go talk to her."

He hesitated for a second, but the grudgingly did as she told him. "Shepard."

The Commander had been observing a little post-it on the door to the airlock. It read: "Commander Shepard is hereby forbidden from using the airlock to get rid of items and personnel she disagrees with".

John wasn't sure if it was some sort of practical joke, or if there had been an incident he had not been informed of.

"Chief."

The Commander kept her back to him, with her hands clasped behind her back. "What you said to her was reckless. You shouldn't have done that, John." She turned around and gave him a stern look, before smiling warmly. "Thanks for that."

"Coming here was reckless," he said, his voice harsh. "You two should know better than that." The Chief was about to explain his orders when Keyes' expression warmed, and the Autumn 's CO smiled. "Thanks."

"Any soldier should be regarded a failure if they cannot protect their commanding officer," he softly replied. He wasn't going to fail Shepard like he had failed Keyes. Like he had failed his daughter.

No way.

Jane gave him an odd look. "Oh? But what if your commanding officer likes to get in danger?"

That remark puzzled him. Why would any CO do that? "Then they'd be unfit as a leader."

Her expression soured. "Ouch.

"Sometimes, you can be SUCH an idiot…"

Something about the way both women replied to him made him feel like he had missed something.

"Good thing I'm not really your commanding officer then," Shepard said, somewhat snidely. She pursed her lips like she was pouting, before adding, "Let me rephrase that. What if your Shepard likes to get in danger?"

John was starting to feel like he was being surveyed by a debriefing committee. And with Cortana following every word of this conversation, he sort of was.

Although walking in a minefield might be a more appropriate comparison…"My…Shepard? I would keep a close eye on him. Her. I would keep a close eye on her."

The Commander all but glared at him as he said that. For several moments, the tension in the air was so thick that he was starting to wonder if he wouldn't be safer on Omega. But then she smiled. A real, genuine smile filled with kindness and warmth. "Good. Lucky me."

And with that, she reached out and placed her hand against the side of his helmet, where his cheek would be located. "I hope you can keep up, John."

Then she turned and left, leaving a moderately-confused Spartan to reflect on what had just happened.

Joker's voice rang out from the cockpit. "Real smooth, big guy."

The Spartan rolled with his eyes and returned to the CIC. He didn't know what he was looking forward to more; Cortana calling him a barbarian again or waiting a full minute for the elevator to arrive.

At least he wasn't covered in blood again.

~0~


Medical bay

One hour later

Jane wasn't a krogan. She was pretty sure that her parents would have told her that at one point during their happy but extremely-short time together on Mindoir. Still, fourteen years was long enough for parents to tell their girl that she was secretly a krogan and she had never been told such as thing.

So why, she wondered, did she have such a good synergy with violence? She was pretty sure she didn't enjoy killing, but violence itself? She had an emotional dependence on it. It helped her empty her mind, straighten her thoughts, push away unhappy memories and get sleepy.

And Aria T'Loak always made her feel like she wanted to get sleepy.

Of course, having Grunt as a permanent member of her crew helped a lot. Jane seriously doubted he understood just how much she valued the time he spent butting heads with her -literally, as opposed to a certain purple-skinned asari- but in the end, that didn't really matter. He was there to redecorate the room with her when she needed it and for that, she treasured him.

And now that she had sufficiently violenced herself calm again, she thought it time to visit the Normandy's latest visitor.

Although visitor implied a degree of conscious decision on the person's part. Jane believed that the young man had been somewhat unconscious as Jacob and Zaeed brought him back to the ship.

It was for his own good, really. He was a Biotic, a very strange one. She had felt all sorts of traces of ambient energy emanating from him, most of them unfamiliar to her. But if Aria T'Loak wanted him bad enough that she was willing to "stride among her servants" to find him, he had to be important enough to warrant her personal attention.

In Harbinger's words, Aria wanted to direct it personally.

And there were very few people that deserved to be stuck on a piss-hole like Omega with an entire slaver Frigate filled with batarians after their head.

After a quick stop at the mess hall, the Commander dropped by the medical bay, where they had temporarily dropped their guest off. Doctor Chakwas stood by the door, reading a datapad.

"Hey Karin. Brought you some coffee."

"Commander. How thoughtful; I appreciate it."

The good doctor put her pad away and took the steaming mug in both hands. "I assume you are curious about our guest?"

Jane glanced through the window of the medical bay. He was sitting upright, clad in a medical gown. He was staring ahead blankly with a perfectly-neutral face. A little bit too neutral, to her likes. "Yeah. He doing well?"

"Physically, he's fine. Exhausted after Biotic overuse, wounded from what I can only assume are skirmishes on Omega and bleeding from a peculiar wound in his neck."

"Batarian surgery?" It took all of Shepard's willpower to keep her voice from trembling. Getting riled up in front of a hardened veteran was one thing. Losing her cool in front of the fragile Karin was a completely different thing.

"Yes and no. I detected no sign of the neural jack after scanning for it, so I can only presume the slavers accidentally forgot to actually implant it after they made the incision. That, or he somehow lost it. He does bear the scars of their marking process, as well as the burn wounds of the branding process."

"I've never gotten the point of branding prisoners. I mean, they get chipped and implanted, so why bother?"

The doctor sighed. "Mostly for humiliation instead of identification. It eases the dehumanization of the victims, as not every batarian is a willing slaver."

Shepard crossed her arms. "You don't want to get too attached to the merchandise."

"Correct. I presume their culture has something to do with it as well. Species with less than four eyes…"

"…are inferior. Yeah, Anderson taught me that after I signed up. So…is he ready for a visitor?"

A dark look crossed over Chakwas' face. It was only there for a split-second, but Jane saw it nonetheless. "I suppose so yes, if you can get him to talk, that is."

Shepard peered through the window again. "He's conscious."

"That he is."

"He seems consciously conscious."

"Definitely so."

"But he doesn't talk?"

"That's what I said."

"…I'm going to have a talk with him."

She didn't miss how Karin rolled with her eyes, though she pretended to. "Of course, Commander. I will give you two some privacy."

As the good doctor headed towards the table in the mess hall, Jane casually entered the medical bay and got a closer look on the recently-freed slave, who was still blankly staring ahead like he was having a staring contest with the floor.

A case of shellshock, perhaps. Most batarian victims had it. His eyes were still red from crying however, which pointed to a certain awareness of his plight.

It reminded her a lot of Tabitha, the girl she had met on the Citadel two years back. Another victim of the "illegal" slave-trade in the Terminus.

I remember me.

"Hey," she softly said, not wanting to startle him too badly.

There wasn't the slightest response.

Well, that was to be expected.

"I'm Commander Shepard. I'm here to help."

Still no response. She was starting to wonder if that scan Chakwas had mentioned had maybe discovered a form of brain damage, or a bad concussion.

Batarians didn't just forget to implant their victims. They were very meticulous about that. But this young man had been escaping, he had been fighting to escape. He couldn't have done that if the neural jack was still active.

Jane was starting to feel somewhat uncomfortable. Something about this situation wasn't right and she was missing something, something important. Maybe even something right in front of her.

"Do you have a name?" She tried.

This wasn't working. They might have to wait until he was responsive, or bring him to the nearest System Alliance outpost and work things out from there. They would be able to discover where he came from, perhaps even locate some surviving family members of his.

A cynical little voice in the back of her head told her that his family was likely dead. And he looked old enough to sign up with the military…

Unwelcome thoughts weren't welcome. She ignored them and decided that the kid might need some sleep before he was in any position to talk. Slavers liked their victims nice and drowsy, after all.

Jane turned around to leave again. She didn't get more than three steps before something interesting happened.

"You're gifted."

The Commander tried to remember which question she had asked that warranted such an answer. She failed miserably, so she settled for turning back around and taking the bait. "Yup. That's me. I'm Commander Shepard, here to help. And you are…?"

The boy stared at her with a truly alien expression. Individually, his features might have expressed some rudimentary feeling or message, but they didn't seem to come together in any meaningful way.

Her feeling of unease became that much more noticeable.

She did like the blue color of his eyes, though. "Right. At this point, you are supposed to tell me your name."

"William Johannes Everheart," he told her in a monotone voice.

Telling was stretching it a bit too much. He recited his name, like he was quoting a book instead of sharing his identity.

And she didn't like the way he stared at her. Unblinking, devoid of any clear message he wanted to share with her.

It didn't happen to her often that she found herself unable to read someone. Very frustrating.

"That's a nice name," replied Jane. She wasn't going to treat someone differently because they unnerved her. "So then William, can you tell me how you escaped? You were abducted by batarian slavers."

"They told me to "eat"."

"Uh-huh?" When he didn't continue, Jane asked, "How did that help you?"

Finally, he blinked. "Violence makes me stronger. It gives me focus. I identify with it."

That was the kind of answer she'd expect Grunt to give her, or Jack. Not a boy who looked like he was barely legal enough to hold a gun. But she supposed the answer made sense to him. "And that helped you escape…okay then."

Then it hit her; Biotics often had a knack, or a thing, that motivated them Jack's strange obsession with killing made her stronger when she indulged in her dark fantasies in a fight, while Thane grew stronger the more he focused on a single task.

Things.

So he had told her how he escaped. In his own way.

"And then you were alone on Omega. The name of the station they brought you," she clarified. "A haven for criminals and pirates. Bad guys. Usually. What happened then?"

"She perished."

Jane blinked. "Oh. Who did?"

"My mother."

It was really disturbing to hear someone talking about their dead mother in a tone of voice that would make EDI sound like a livewire. "I'm…sorry to hear that. How did that happen?"

There was absolutely no emotion on his face as he told her that an alien wench had murdered her using "the gift".

Gifted.

He was talking about Biotics. Why call them that? "What did she look like? This alien wench?" Asked Jane.

"Unspeakably unsightly and breathtakingly beautiful."

Shepard had a nagging feeling that she knew exactly who had murdered his mom. "And did she have purple skin?"

"Yes."

Jane swore that when she saw Aria T'Loak again, she'd feed her scalp to a Thresher Maw. "I'm sorry to hear that. I really am. My home was attacked by batarians too, when I was young. They killed my mother and father as well, so I can relate."

"Is that why you hate them?"

That took her by surprise. "'Scuse me?"

"Batarians, aliens, the normal ones. You tense up when they're mentioned…flex your muscles, set your jaw. You hate them and that makes your gift that much more brighter to look at." He paused. "Too bright for my eyes."

Yeah, he was definitely starting to freak her out. It wasn't as much the unexpected psycho-analysing that would make Kelly squirm with the offense, but that he had more or less summed up what made her Biotics so powerful.

But she wasn't a krogan, so she won. "You call it a gift…" she then told him, subtly telling him that he had overstepped the boundaries of politeness by changing the subject. "Why is that?"

The boy squinted and then reached for his eyes, as if they were hurting. "That's what she called it…" he muttered. "The word "Biotic" is profanity where I live. Lived. Calling it a gift made it easier. So bright."

Jane realized that his eyes were wet, glanced at the lights in the medical bay and connected the dots. She gestured with her omni-tool and dimmed them. "That better?"

"No."

Odd.

The Commander stood up and circled around him. He tried to squirm and keep his eyes on hers, but she gently placed her hands on his shoulders and kept him down. He felt brittle, like he might break if she put too much force on his slender frame. Not like Joker, but fragile nonetheless. "Quit trying to stare at me. It's impolite. William, you have a hell of a burn wound on your back. And these wounds -don't they hurt?"

"Terribly."

"Then why didn't you say so? We had a doctor in here, she was inspecting you!"

Bright lights, horrible wounds, mother killed…no wonder his eyes were watery. He was crying, but without the actual crying.

He couldn't be much older than seventeen or so.

It screamed "disorder" at her. "I'm going to give you some time to rest in a few. Could you tell me if the aliens did surgery on you?"

"Yes."

"Did they…this is going to sound nasty. Did they put something inside your head?"

"Yes."

Jane gritted her teeth. "You're welcome to freak out, you know. This thing that they put in your head, what happened to it?"

"I burned it."

Huh. "You what?"

"I burned it."

"What does that mean?"

"I used the gift."

He burned a neural jack using his Biotics? He used his brain to destroy something in his brain?

Jane made a mental note to ask Chakwas to scan for brain damage and fixed William's gown again. "There. I'm going to ask miss Chakwas -our doctor- to give you something against the pain. I will make sure you end up with the right people, Will. You should rest for now."

She couldn't do much more than that. Normally, she could easily decide on the best course of action when it came to people. It was pretty obvious to her now that there was nothing "normal" about this situation.

She needed to know more before taking action. Maybe Mordin could help shed some light on it.

"Commander?"

"Doctor?"

Karin stood up from the table and approached her. "I presume you managed to get our patient talking?"

Jane hesitated. "In a way, yeah. He's hurting, pretty bad. Give him a sedative, to help him sleep. Some medi-gel might help, too. Keeping the door locked is pretty handy too."

"Locked, Shepard? Surely he didn't prove to be hostile?"

"Surely? No. But I'm not risking it. Something's definitely wrong with him, but I can't say what…make sure you keep Thane around when you treat the kid."

"Thane Krios?" Chakwas sighed. "I won't doubt you, Commander, but I prefer not to give my patients the absurd idea that I might fear them."

Which was exactly why she wanted Thane to keep an eye out. A skilled assassin like him knew just about a hundred ways to conceal his presence. "Noted."

A few minutes later, when she dropped by Mordin to see how he was doing, her mind was still struggling to process the rather one-sided conversation. She couldn't rule out brain damage, but she couldn't rule out that she had taken in a second Jack either.

No, that wasn't fair. Jack was messed up in her own ways, but she was honest. And, Jane suspected, secretly longing for bonds that wouldn't hurt her.

Luckily, Mordin's laboratory contained something that made her immediately forget about the weird conversation. The old salarian wasn't alone; he was watching a vid with John of all people.

Jane glanced at the screen that the two guys were huddled up for. It wasn't any vid she wanted to see though. Not enough hanar actors. It looked like a tour of the Citadel filmed from a high-speed skycar.

"Hey guys," she said, greeting her friends. "That's so cute, you're having a man-day."

"Shepard. Good of you to drop by. Were just investigating strange vid content with asari."

Strange vid content…wasn't that what Joker used as excuse for-?

Jane pulled a face. "Yuk. Hey, I'm not judging! I'll drop by some other time."

That was when she actually saw what was on the vid. The asari in question wasn't as hot as she would think for a vid starring "strange content"; the lead actress had a sickly white tint to her skin, her eyes were red and bloodshot and some spots of her body looked like they were rotting.

"Disgust understandable, ugly picture." Mordin took a deep breath. "Shepard welcome to "man-day"; wonder if super-soldier considers himself "man" as well."

John gave the old doctor a look that Jane liked to imagine as abject horror or quiet frustration. "It's my helmet footage. This is the hostile Biotic I encountered. The Consort's assassin."

Camera footage. Ah. Well, it was better than some Fornax-inspired puberty ritual. As smart as he was, Grunt didn't quite know how to delete his extranet history.

Neither did Joker, for that matter.

"She ehm…she's a…Mordin, what's the proper medical term for butt-ugly?"

"Buttockular-visibly-disturbing," replied the salarian. "Super-soldier's cam footage reveals unsettling details. Rapid skin-necrosis in limbs, mutated pigment tissue."

The camera pivoted to reveal the ground, then the ceiling, then the ground again. The owner immediately jumped back to their feet, just in time to dodge another sphere of destructive Biotic energy.

"Unprecedented Biotic potential as well," continued Mordin. "Results point to conclusion-" He took a deep breath for dramatic effect. "-assassin likely not natural. Results of experiment, perhaps Collector tech. If super-soldier would allow one tissue sample…"

John scraped his throat. "Stop trying to dissect me."

Shepard couldn't help it. The image of Mording looking at John with pleading little varren eyes, holding a scalpel in one hand and his omni-tool in the other…it was just too silly.

Roughly ten seconds later, she managed to get a handful of air back into her lungs and the laughing fit slowly faded away. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at the two guys, who were staring at her with a blank expression and visor, respectively. "Mordin…what did I tell you about trying to dissect people? It's not nice!"

"Shocking accusation! Wasn't trying to "dissect" anyone! …was merely going for tissue sample."

"I don't like needles," John stated with a deadpan tone.

"I can relate. Oh, and Mordin? Could you please call him by his name? He's not "super-soldier". " Jane paused, then sheepishly added, "He's Master Chief Petty Officer One-One-Seven. That's…that's his name."

"Ah. Rank offers better naming than description. One-One-Seven sounds more personal. Will remedy personal relations. Continue footage."

The three of them continued watching the helmet cam. It just now occurred to Jane how rare truly powerful Biotics were. She was one, Samara was one, Jack was one and if she was right, the boy was also one. But most of the people she encountered were your average pushovers. That this asari had undergone such extensive surgery for such immense power was…reminiscent of Saren's experiments with the krogan.

But if it gave one individual the power to fight off John in single combat…bad stuff.

"I think this is our best lead for now," said Shepard. "Because I'm starting to think this thing's appearance and C-Sec's sudden ability to show up in time are related to each other. Aria knowing your full rank bugs me as well. She knows everything that goes on at Omega. Even some things that don't go on at Omega."

"How will we track this thing?" Said John. "It disappeared."

"I think I'm going to contact Captain Bailey again, ask him how his men knew where to be. I might be able to find something in Sha'ira's agenda."

"What about that drone? Zaeed still has the footage."

Hmm…that thing would certainly have some interesting things on it. "Yeah. I think our mutual friend can discover something interesting. I'll drop by."

Jane was about to step through the door and wander straight back towards the CIC when she remembered why she had come to the lab in the first place. "Oh, Mordin? Is it possible to use Biotics to disintegrate a batarian neural jack?"

"Implications unsettling. Hope this not the start of a new plan?"

"Just give me your professional opinion, please?"

"Theoretically possible with Biotic control of asari Matriarch. Benezia might have. Requires advanced Amp, to begin with."

"Not impossible?"

"Not impossible. Very implausible."

"Right. Bye, Mordin. Bye, Chief."

She really ought to keep a diary for these sorts of things. The journal was just too…Cerberus-like for her likes. Too stiff and professional. Right now, she really liked to know where the hell she'd start thinking first.

If only Cortana and EDI were aware of each other. Working together, they would make the galaxy's finest thinker-box.

Food for thought.

~0~

AN: I've recently gotten some bad news. Nothing too serious, nobody died or anything, but it still shook me up somewhat. So it might be even longer before the next update appears.