Chapter 75. The Very Model of A Scientist Salarian


21. March 2417 AD, Asgard System, Terra Nova, Residential Outskirts of Scott

With a huff, he unrooted the weed and tossed it behind himself. Then he dusted off his gloves and looked at a job well done. He had meant to clean up his garden last summer but with back-to-back deployments between Colonial Watch assignments and Operation Sentinel getting in the way, he hadn't really been home since august. But better late than never, right?

"Done already?" his wife Sam wondered as he wiped his brow. While it was only spring, Terra Nova was a very hot planet. In summer the regions around the equator reached up to sixty degrees and even the far more densely inhabited northern regions around the capital Scott regularly made it as high as forty degrees. Hence it was hot, even if it was just the start of spring.

"What can I say, I work fast and without interruption," Tore shrugged before getting up with a groan and cracking his back. Alright. Maybe it would've been better if he had taken at least a short break from being hunched over in front of his fence.

"And judging by that sound, that's not a good way of doing things," she observed with a chuckle. "Lunch is ready by the way. So if you want to clean yourself up," she said before trailing off and looking at something in the distance. It was a long enough break to make the ASOC officer curious so he spun his head around and looked at the black limousine that was pulling up in their drive way. As soon as he recognized the eagle painted on the doors, he started to accept that his leave would probably come to an end way too soon again. The door of the car opened and a familiar man in a blue navy uniform stepped out. He pulled on his cap and nodded to Haugen. No salutes were exchanges this time around since the captain was off-duty and in civilian attire. But that didn't negate the respect the two men had for each other.

"Work?" Sam figured with a rhetorical question.

"Yes. I'll be right inside. You go ahead and start without me," he replied. While she did well to hide it, Tore knew that Sam wasn't a fan of what was happening. Then again, who would be? He was supposed to be on leave.

But if Hackett showed up at his doorstep, he also knew that his leave would be interrupted for a very justified reason.

"Just give me a heads-up if you have to leave."

"Will do," he nodded. She kissed his cheek and then went inside. Then Haugen walked over to Hackett.

"Admiral," he greeted before the two shook hands.

"I'm very sorry to disturb you on your leave, Captain Haugen," Hackett said before lifting up the suitcase that he was carrying. "But something's come up. Is there some place where we can talk in private? I'd hate to interrupt your leave and have you shipped to a military base on the same day."

"My garage," the ASOC officer replied quickly.

"Lead the way."

He did just that and not a minute later, the two were standing at the small working desk in Haugen's garage. Hackett planted the suitcase on it and opened it up, revealing it to be a terminal. Then he unlocked it with three kinds of identification, a fingerprint, a password and a retinal scan.

"You remember Balak?" Hackett asked.

"Of course I do."

"Good. That'll cut things short. As you probably figured, HSAIS has been interrogating him for some time now and the last few interviews have revealed a troublesome possibility."

"What's the Hegemony up to this time?"

"It's not the batarians, Captain," Hackett muttered. "What I'm about to show you can't leave this room, understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

Hackett tapped on the terminal and it produced an image. Haugen immediately recognized it. It was the ship he'd seen on Virmire, the one Commander Shepard had talked to before it had nearly killed both of them.

"A Reaper? I thought we solved that problem when Shepard closed the Citadel Relay," that was the information he had been given during his last briefing.

"That's the official state of things, yes," Hackett nodded. "But intelligence given to us by Balak suggests that the Reapers might have put in place a contingency, something that'll assure their arrival in case Sovereign fails," the admiral went on and showed him a brief clip. In it Balak rambled about the Hegemony and how the chairman had apparently gone crazy and built hundreds of spires of some kind all over batarian space. "We think these spires are supposed to be beacons for the Reapers, something that'll help them find their way to the Milky Way and soften up their landing site while they're at it."

"So the problem isn't solved," Haugen figured before folding his arms.

"No. Far from it."

"So we just wasted two years thinking that we didn't have to deal with the Reapers again when in actuality they're already on their way to mess us up?"

"Yes," Hackett nodded.

Great.

Just great.

He sighed and judging by his expression, Hackett shared Haugen's frustration.

"What do you need me to do, Sir?"

"We have a team that's currently trying to locate these beacons and figure out if they can simply be shut down. If they produce a positive result, I need people who can go deep into Hegemony space and carry out precision strikes targeting these spires. It's a very dangerous mission that may very well decide the fate of our galaxy, so I want people who I can trust to get the job done, no matter the opposition," Hackett explained before looking around Haugen's garage and probably noticing the lack of an actual car. Since he wasn't around half the time and Terra Nova had basically been build around an automated transit system, Haugen had shipped his car to his unit on Mindoir years ago. Then it got blown up during the Blitz. "Your team are those people."

"I'm honored, but didn't you just say that there were hundreds of these spires?"

"Yes. There are."

The blonde soldier raised his eyebrow.

"You don't expect us to destroy all of them on our own, do you?"

"No, I don't. You'll have plenty helping hands," the admiral said. "If you choose to accept this mission," he added. "This is something that'll happen off the grid and I'll be honest with you; I can't order you to help me. If you don't want to do this and rather stay at home, then that's that. Just say the word and I'm gone. No explanations, no judgement."

Huh.

So he actually had a choice?

He glanced at the picture of the Reaper.

"These thing are coming, right?"

"With near certainty."

"And when they do, they'll do to us what they did to the protheans?"

"Without a doubt."

"Who'll talk to my team?"

"I already sent people to your team members, Captain. They all agreed to the mission on the condition that you lead them," Hackett said. Then he grew silent and let Haugen think.

The ASOC officer looked around his garage. He'd been home for two weeks now. Other than that, he hadn't seen his wife in months and his life had moved on without him the same way it had done ever since he had joined up nearly twenty years ago. For the first time since then Sam and he had had a serious conversation about his future. Ever since then he had seriously started to consider getting out of the military. His contract would run out by the start of next year and after that, he'd not only be payed a handsome pension, which would be even bigger if he managed to make major before his contract ended, but also have a very easy time finding work close to his home. In fact he had already scheduled the interview last week and it was a safe bet. If he did that there'd be no more back-to-back deployments, no more risking his life on battlefields and no more questionable occupation operations in the Verge. Just a peaceful life in his home with the woman that he loved and a memorable and accomplished career to look back on.

He sighed.

What would be the point in him enjoying his life when the Reapers rolled around a few decades down the road and murdered him and everyone he cared about?

"Then you got yourself a team, Admiral," Haugen finally said.

Just this last op.

He regretted thinking that as soon as he recognized the cliché.


21. March 2417 AD, Sahrabarik System, Omega

Omega was known as a place where one could find pretty much anything, if they were willing to go the distance and play by its unique set of rules. Whether it was something as basic as cheap Eezo or a hired gun or something as odd and specific as old turian weapons made before the Geth War or a left-handed batarian hitman with only two good eyes. If you knew where to ask, you could find anything, or anyone, here on Omega.

As she was about to step into the airlock, Emily went over the dossier Kirrahe had sent to her omni after their talk for one final time to make sure she had everything important about one of the first of the people she was here to collect memorized.

Doctor Mordin Solus had been born on Sur'Kesh in 2372 and ever since he had started his education, which continued to this day, he had been regarded as a protégé at everything that peaked his interest, be it academic studies or military intelligence. He was a natural-born, omni-disciplinary scientist, possibly the most gifted geneticist of his generation and, according to Kirrahe, been one hell of an STG mission specialist who had served with him on Virmire and a dozen other classified high-risk missions. In addition to raising the possibility that unbeknownst to her, Solus and she had already met, it also explained why he had been the only one flagged as a 'crucial' team member. He wasn't just an extremely smart doctor. He was also extremely deadly one. It was the exact kind of unique combination that raised their chances of success against the Collectors.

After she had skimmed over what little information Kirrahe had been able to provide her about Solus' time of active duty, she reached the only complete part of the service file, it's end. Half a year ago Doctor Solus had requested an honorable discharge, packed his personal equipment and moved to Omega. Given his background, STG had of course been interested in figuring out his motives and gone on to investigate why one of their best would trade a state-of-the-art laboratory for a run-down clinic in a place called the 'Gozu' District. But unless the file she had been sent had been altered in that regard, which she ruled out because it would kind of defeat the purpose of giving it to her in the first place, they had drawn a blank.

Solus was running a simple clinic out of nothing but altruism.

Normally that would be great and she wouldn't even consider interrupting him. But since she kind of had to drag the salarian away from his humanitarian mission to prevent the possible abduction of thousands of humans, Emily was already weighing her arguments. She had a feeling that she'd have to be extremely convincing to make Solus leave the new life he had chosen and somehow she figured that it wouldn't be nearly as easy as she hoped her second recruitment here on Omega would be. Unlike with Garrus, she couldn't exactly tell Solus to do it 'for old times sake'.

But all in due time.

Before she worried about convincing him, she first had to actually reach him and if their intel was accurate, that would involve going through several layers of quarantine. She had honestly chuckled when she had first read the latest intelligence report on Gozu District. Not because she found it amusing that a mysterious plague was killing every non-human in the district, but because it fell right in line with what Leng had said about her missions. There was never such a thing as a simple pick-up when Emily Shepard was involved. It always had to get more complicated. And as if the universe was trying to out-do the last 'simple pick-ups' of her career, which had respectively involved a Reaper attack on Eden Prime and a geth invasion of an outpost located inside an active super volcano, she was now faced with a disease that, according to HSAIS, had a ninety six percent mortality rate among anyone it affected. So she not only had to worry about her new turian team-member, but also about Solus himself. Reaching him wouldn't do any good if he had already caught the disease while working in his clinic and was already on his deathbed or worse, already dead.

So yes.

All in due time.

"So. Have either of you ever been to Omega?" Shepard idly wondered as she looked at the bulkhead in front of her and waited for the decontamination to finish. If she was honest, a quarantine procedure was the last thing she would've expected to run into on the infamous space station, even if a part of it was going through an epidemic. Then again Omega and the people who ran it probably hadn't survived this long by being stupid. So maybe her expectations had simply been influenced by having grown up during a time where everything form the Terminus had been declared as anything from 'bad' to 'vile' or 'evil' by most people in the HSA, including her parents.

"I gotta admit, I've been to some of the shadiest bars and clubs the galaxy has to offer. But surprisingly enough I managed to avoid this place up to now," Leng said before looking at their new Blackwatch ally, who was standing to Shepard's left. "What about you, Callius?"

"Not privately," she replied quickly."

"And in the line of duty?" Leng pressed on.

"I'm afraid I'm not at the liberty to discuss previous assignments with you," Callius said before turning her head sideways and mustering the two of them.

"You know that if you put it like that, it kind of gives away the answer," Leng pointed out.

"Maybe," Lieutenant Callius shrugged. "But it's either phrasing it 'like that' or lying to your face. And since I don't make a habit out of lying to my allies," she said before trailing off when the sound of the deep, batarian-accented voice of the quarantine VI made its declaration.

"Decontamination process completed. Airlock now unlocked. Welcome to Omega," it said. When it was done the turian didn't seem to feel the need to continue where she had left off and Shepard didn't feel like pushing either. There was something else on her mind right now.

While she didn't have a problem working with Cerberus, they were after all also a branch of the HSA's armed forces, albeit a rather secretive one, the red-haired N7 was still weary of this new alliance. It had been gnawing at her ever since she had woken up and while she couldn't quite place the source of her suspicion, she was certain that it was related to how Harper and she had first met. Yes. He might've been the first person to believe her about the beacon's vision. But on the other hand, he had also carefully avoided to tell her that what the beacon had shown to her wasn't just a random flashback but actually a warning about an imminent Reaper invasion. Furthermore he had neglected to mention that he had considered this kind of invasion a possibility for years in advance and also kept it a secret that he was far from the only one who was aware of this danger. Only when General Arterius had spilled the beans and pushed him into a corner had Harper opened his mouth and that alone made her question just how long he would've dragged out his version of things and what else he was still keeping from her in that regard.

Okay. So maybe she could place it. Nonetheless Emily found herself struggling to justify her suspicion this time around. Harper hadn't actually done anything to make her weary of him yet and there was no doubt in her mind that he absolutely wanted to stop the Collectors. She also didn't question that the director had humanity's best interest at heart, nor did she struggle to place him and Cerberus along with the rest of the 'good guys' like General Arterius or the late Captain Anderson.

Yet despite all of these arguments in his favor, she couldn't convince herself that the man didn't have an ulterior motive. Even when considering that Cerberus had brought her back from the dead and that they were working as part of a much larger network reaching across three of the four Council members, it wasn't exactly a stretch to believe that a secretive black-ops division with the self-declared goal and a practically fanatic devotion to prevent any and all threats to humanity by using any and all means was up to something questionable that they were keeping secret from everyone else. It was just a matter of figuring out what.

"Huh. Looks like someone's expecting us," Leng said, drawing Shepard form her thoughts and back to the reality of the docking area. A batarian in a black armor that had golden highlights, which nearly matched some parts of his yellowish skin, was walking towards them. While he didn't seem to have any malicious intent, his hands were dangling loosely by his side and far away from the boxy Terminator Rifle he was carrying, the fact that he was so purposefully walking towards them made Emily bring her hand a bit closer to her mass accelerator pistol. This was Omega, one could never be too careful.

"Aria's been expecting you, Shepard," he greeted as he approached them. Before she could ask who he was or how he knew who she was, even if the answer was rather obvious considering that according to Leng she had become quite famous after her death, he went on. "Don't bother with sightseeing or shopping. She's been waiting for you. So just follow me, okay?" Her eyebrow raised behind her helmet. Aria had been waiting for a dead Spectre? As far as she knew, it wasn't exactly public knowledge that she was back from the dead. So how was it that she was being expected? "What's the matter? Are you deaf now?" the batarian added.

"You don't even give me your name and you expect me to follow you?"

The batarian sighed.

"I'm Bray, head of Aria's security. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said with a hint of mockery. "Now please. Follow me to Afterlife. It's been a long day for Aria. You normally already don't want to piss her off but today it'd be especially bad timing."

Emily shared a look with her team. Leng shrugged. Callius spoke up.

"If there's a person on Omega that could give us actionable intel, it's probably Miss T'Loak. I think we should go to her but ultimately it's your call, Commander," the Blackwatch lieutenant said formally. Meanwhile the batarian winced.

"Whatever you do, please don't call Aria Miss T'Loak and please don't have the turian talk to her. She'll have you stuffed into the food processors for that kind of language," he muttered. The longer he kept talking, the more Shepard was sure that she and T'Loak wouldn't get along. But Callius was right. She was probably their best bet. "Now can we please get going?" he repeated his plead again.

"Yes, lead the way," Shepard replied before her team followed the batarian out of the docking area. The part of Omega they were now entering was a lot more in line with what she had pictured. Everywhere around her a mixture of proper buildings and prefabs climbed high into the sky, all the way to the top of the level they were currently on and every now and again, she could see bits and pieces of the reinforced asteroid walls that held the construction together. The air was polluted by artificial orange light, cast by refineries, casinos, billboards and living quarters alike, and flocks of sky cars and eezo transports traveled in between them in a seemingly random pattern. At every corner there seemed to be at least one seedy person who sold some kind of contraband or a drunk or drug addict who was sleeping out their latest rush. And although the Afterlife as already in sight and they hadn't walked for that long, she had already seen a lot of mercenaries or gang members, who all seemed to stare daggers into her when they made eye contact. The majority of them were krogan who still wore their old sets of Blood Pack armor and turians in red black and golden armor that bore the sigil of the Talons, a street gang with a paramilitary flair. She had been warned about during the briefing. But other than them, there were also asari clad in repainted Eclipse armor pieces, salarians and humans wearing ununiform sets of armor and a group of batarians who had picked bright orange for a paintjob.

Until they spotted Bray, they all looked at her like they'd want nothing more but to carve her up and pin her head on a spike and when they did see who she was with, they dismissively looked away. Since her escort obviously seemed to have a repulsive effect on the mercs, Shepard figured that she could ask her question without getting into trouble.

"What's the deal with all the mercs?" she said, causing Bray to look around. When he turned she noticed the remnants of a scratched-off blue sigil on his chest plate. Interesting. Aria's head of security used to be in the Hegemony's External Forces.

"They're getting ready to finally kick the Blue Suns off the station," immediately she looked back at the dozens of mercs and her mind went to Garrus. "Archangel and his unit have been terrorizing Lower Omega for the last year. They're trying to start some kind of revolution to destabilize the station enough for a Blue Suns invasion to come in and seize it the same way they took all those other planets. But no one really took him for a serious threat because well," Bray said before nodding his head at the Elcor bouncer standing in front of the line of people ho wanted into the Afterlife," no one on Omega is ever going to support a Blue Suns revolution. So everyone just kind of ignored him until lately. It wasn't like he was doing any more damage than the gangs he was taking out would've caused eventually."

"But?"

"But Archangel screwed up a couple of weeks ago. He messed with the Talons on their own home turf and killed one of their top leaders. They didn't have a problem with him up to that point, but he forced their hand. If they want to save face, they can't just ignore what happened. So now they want his head and opened the contract to anyone who can hold a gun. Last I heard, they used the freelancers to push him and his unit into a corner and now their own grunts are ready to go in. All ex-military or failed auxiliaries. They know his tricks so it probably won't be long until he's dead." Knowing Garrus, she wouldn't be so sure about that. He probably had a lot more tricks up his sleeve than what the Hierarchy's military had taught him. "Alright, here we are," Bray added as they reached a staircase. "Just go up and you'll be at Aria's."

"You're not coming along?" she responded.

"I'm not exactly welcome up there right now," Bray said before rubbing his neck. "Go on."

She nodded and climbed the stairs. Then she turned her head to the right and spotted an asari sitting on a couch that was flanked by six heavily armed guards. They eyed her team with suspicion and then one of them stepped up, carrying a device in his hand. He raised it and leveled it right between her eyes much like one would do with a gun.

"Take of your helmet," the instructed in a coarse tone,

"Why?" she responded, considering whether or not to draw her gun.

"So I can check that you're actually who we think you are and not some kind of surgically altered hitman," he looked at the device in his hand and realized where Shepard's hand was, on her gun's handle. "Relax. It's just a DNA scanner. If you're really the dead Spectre, this thing will just confirm it and it'll be all good. And if you're not," he added before looking at the other guards. "Well. You get the idea."

"Why do you have my DNA?" the N7 countered before folding her arms.

"Shit. Do you always ask this many questions?" the asari on the couch said with a sigh before waving her hand at the guards. Then she got up and approached her and looked at her through the visor of her helmet. "I have to say, Shepard, you do look surprisingly good for someone who's supposed to be dead. Definitely better than last time."

"Last time? I don't remember ever meeting you."

"Naturally. You were pretty much dead when your friends dragged you off my station," Aria responded before her face turned grim. "By the way, do tell your obnoxious spy boyfriend that he owes me an Eezo refinery, two sky cars and six new enforcers in full body armor. I don't care why he did it, but what he did to get you off of Omega costed me a lot of credits. I want them back from him. Preferably two years ago."

Emily grimaced behind her helmet. What spy boyfriend? But even if she had no idea what was going on, Emily was starting to understand the problem. The asari was talking about the operation that had saved her from the collectors. Interestingly enough, no one back at Cronos Station had told her that whoever had saved her had also clashed with Aria, killed six of her guys and somehow managed to give off the impression that he was a relationship with her while he was at it.

And just like that, her suspicion about Harper not telling her the entire story was once more justified.

"I'll pass on the word," she said, not bothering to mention that she had no idea who Aria was talking about. "I was told you were expecting me?"

"I was," Aria nodded.

"Care to explain how you knew I was back?"

"No, I don't," Omega's queen shook her head before gesturing for her couch. "Let's get straight to the point," she said as both of them sat down. "I know your reputation and I don't want you here. You always cause trouble and there's enough of that on Omega already. So why don't you tell me what you want and then I tell you why you can't have it and you fuck off of my station the same way you arrived?" Aria said before putting on a malicious smile and folding her hands in her lap. "Sounds like a deal, doesn't it?"

She ignored the open hostility and got straight to the point.

"I'm looking for two people," she replied honestly. The whole point of this was getting intel on Solus and Garrus, if she lied to Aria that purpose would be defeated. "One's a salarian scientist, Mordin Solus. The other's Archangel."

"What do you want with them?"

"What does it matter to you as long as I leave immediately when I found them? That's what you want, right?"

"Fair enough," Aria nodded. "Solus is in his clinic. Last I heard he was putting the finishing touches on a cure for the Gozu plague. You know, the one that kills everyone but humans and vorcha, has a near total mortality rate and probably came out of one of your labs to soften up Omega," she said before dismissively waving her hand. "I'm sure you've heard of it."

"I have," Shepard nodded. "But it didn't come out of one of our labs-"

"I really don't care where it came from, I'd just appreciate it if you let Solus stay until he finishes his cure" Aria interrupted before pinching her nose. "After I put it under quarantine, Gozu District turned into a vorcha nest. There are a few holdouts like Solus' clinic but everyone else has been eaten by that vermin. Literally in most cases. So unless you want a chewed up salarian and an out-of-control plague," Aria said before mockingly pointing at a band on her wrist that showed the current time in asari digits as soon as she touched it. "I'd hurry up and get him out of there," then she leaned back against the couch. "The same goes for Archangel and his Blue Suns buddies. They won't get chewed up but they don't have a lot time left either. The Talons and the buddies are getting ready to go in for the killing blow and if there's one thing those fucking turians are good at, it's killing people like Archangel."

"Buddies?"

"The other big gangs of Lower Omega, the Zara Reavers, the Morbian Gunrunners and the local Red Sand Guild," T'Loak explained. "They've got him cornered in his base of operations in Zara District. Word is they want to capture him and execute him for the entire galaxy to see. It's supposed to send a message to the Blue Suns, as if that would ever discourage them from trying again. Damn idealists they are, they'll probably just come back for round two to avenge their fallen battle brothers or some bullshit like that," Aria frowned. "Me and the Talons aren't exactly on good terms. I'd appreciate it if you take out a as many of them as you can when you go to break him out of there. Go for the leaders of the other gangs too if you can. If you do good, I might just forget about the Eezo refinery and the enforcers," the asari added. When she was finished she turned her head to Shepard and looked at her. "I told you everything I know."

Emily nodded. "Thanks," she said and she also kind of meant it. Even if the asari hadn't been nice about it, she had actually proved useful. As she considered whether or not to get up, Omega's queen made the decision for her.

"If you really want to thank me, you'll get off your ass, find your people and leave Omega by today's end."

"Don't worry, I don't have any intention to stay longer than I have to," the N7 replied before getting up and joining her team again, who had observed from the sideline. Even though she had only seen a little portion of Omega, it was already more than enough.

"Then why are you still in my club? Get lost."

With another nod, Emily took her leave. After Callius, Leng and her had left the club, her N7 comrade allowed himself a comment that knowing him had been on his lips ever since Aria had opened her mouth.

"I don't think I've ever met someone nearly as bitchy as that one," he chuckled before pointing at the club behind them.

"At least she was helpful. Even if it was out of pure self-interest," Callius shrugged. "Back there it sounded like Vakarian's in real trouble. Are you sure we should go to Solus first? He's STG, he an handle a couple of vorcha. But I'm not sure if I like the odds Vakarian's up against," she added.

"Have a little faith, Callius. It's going to take a lot more than some street gangs to really push Garrus into a corner," Emily replied confidently before placing a nav point to Gozu District. It was surprisingly close. "They might think that they have him but I'm sure that he's doing just fine. In fact, he might even enjoy himself a bit."

"If you say so."


Meanwhile, 2158 CE, Omega, Zara District

"Would you look at that. They're actually getting more accurate. They nearly managed to hit with the launcher this time around," Lantar Sidonis remarked as he and Garrus observed the fight between some of the freelancers the Talons had sent after them and the automated sentry guns that they had set up to delay their advance. A fresh scorch mark had just joined the set of already present battle damage on the fortification they had built yesterday but just like the others, the missile had missed its intended target by a longshot and only caused damage to the reinforced armor panels.

"I'm still saying that the guns are going to run out of ammo before these guys manage to take all of them out," the former C-SEC detective replied. There was a reason why one had to go through actual training before being handed any sort of missile launcher and it was being displayed to them right now.

"Fifty credits?"

"Make it a hundred."

"Someone's feeling confident."

"I calibrated those turrets myself, Sidonis. Even if they eventually manage to get a missile close to one of them, they'll just shoot it down before it hits."

"Alright. Calibrations or not, I have faith in the ingenuity of our criminal friends. A hundred credits it is."

"Great," Garrus chuckled. "Unless I'm wrong, the turrets should still have enough ammunition for the next day so I guess I've got twenty hours to figure out what I'm going to buy with your salary."

"How about victory drinks?" Sidonis suggested. "Spirits know we'll deserve them aftertoday."

"I'll think about it but let's not get ahead of ourselves," he muttered in return.

After watching the distant battle unmagnified for a few more seconds, the turian unfolded his Mantis. Next he leveled the scope with the head of one of the street criminals that had hunkered down in the distance. It would be so easy. Just one squeeze of his trigger and the galaxy would be down another scumbag. He would really do all of them a favor if he fired right now. But it would also give away their position and risk their actual plan of attack. Furthermore his turrets would eventually take care of this particular scumbag. So he restrained himself, something that had become increasingly rare ever since setting foot on Omega. He had probably killed more people in the last year than in his entire prior life and considering some of the places he had been deployed to while serving with Recon, that was really saying something. "Is the squad ready for the assault?" he asked Sidonis. While Garrus was in charge of the strike team, Sidonis was the guy every decent specialized unit needed, the organization talent who made sure they were actually capable of fighting their fights.

"Just waiting for your word," his trusted partner in command replied before both turned away from the edge of the rooftop they had been standing on and went back to where the hand-picked Blue Suns strike team was waiting. All in all, there were twelve of them and with the exception of two replacements, who's predecessors had died early on in the operation, all of these soldiers had been with Garrus ever since he had been tasked with 'preparing' Omega for a much larger Blue Suns operation. They were establishing a staging ground. But his team wasn't alone of course. Other undercover and direct-action teams were wreaking havoc in other parts of the station. But the decentralized nature of Omega meant that no one was able to connect the dots just yet. And hopefully they wouldn't be able to do so until their operation, which High Commanders Masani and Kuril were calling the first step in their 'crusade' against their 'sworn enemies' in the Terminus, was ready to launch.

He smirked behind the dark visor of his blue and white helmet. He hadn't been with the Suns long enough to be able to ignore that some of their ideas were starting to sound increasingly dogmatic and megalomaniac but as long as they kept putting people who deserved it in front of his rifle and set free people who didn't deserve the life they'd been born into, he honestly didn't care if his superiors were a little unhinged? If the situation on Zorya and the other worlds under their control was proving anything, it was that this hint of megalomania meant that someone was making the Blue Suns do the impossible. They were bringing order to the Terminus, something the Council had failed to do for two thousand years. And if that wasn't a worthy cause to follow up on his sadly short-lived stint with the Normandy and Shepard to save the galaxy, he didn't know what else was.

"Alright people, you know the plan," Sidonis announced after stepping on one of the empty explosives crates, the contents of which most likely rested somewhere on the bandolier of their batarian breaching expert, a former slave by the name of Taruk. He had joined the Suns in the same moment they had opened his slave collar twenty years ago and he was probably the most naturally gifted demolitionist that Garrus had ever met, even if he only had two eyes left. "While these idiots are biting out their teeth on our bait, we're going to circumvent their lines and hit the people who hired them. If we get lucky, we wipe out every leading gang boss in Lower Omega in the next few hours. So remember this. What we do here today will be crucial to Omega's liberation." When Sidonis was done, his speech got affirmation from the team. There weren't cheers or applause mind you, they were after all on their way to sneaking around an entire district worth of gang members and merc, but the silent nods of approval that his partner got said all that needed to be said. The Blue Suns were ready to end this fight.

Sidonis turned to Garrus and nodded.

"Just your word," he repeated.

"Let's move out," the former C-SEC operative ordered.


Meanwhile, 21. March 2417 AD, Omega, Gozu District

"Christ," she muttered as they passed another pile of burnt alien corpses. It were findings like this where she was really glad that her helmet was filtering out smells. Ever since they had passed the quarantine zone set up by Aria's goons and entered Gozu District, it was like they had wandered into a world that had already ended some time ago. Just about every building had been looted and in some side streets, the dead literally piled up on the ground. Every few minutes gunfire rattled through the air or a pack of vorcha growled and snarled somewhere in the shadows. Yet they hadn't actually seen another living soul up to now. It was just them, the smoldering pyres and the dead in the streets.

"You'd think there'd be pillagers," Leng observed off-mindedly as the three soldiers walked into a plaza that Emily's omni had identified as a short-cut to where Solus' clinic was supposed to be.

"They probably died off days ago," Callius figured. Shepard was still amazed how calm the turian was considering that unlike Leng and her, she could actually die from the pathogen that had caused the scene they were walking through right now. There wasn't a hint of worry to be detected on her. So either she was stone-cold or she put complete trust into her armor. Or maybe it was both.

While her two companions chatted, Emily looked around the plaza. There certainly had been pillagers at one point. Every store window was broken and some of the bodies lying in them had clearly died by various sorts of weapons and not the plague that had claimed the people gathered around empty medical dispensers or piled on the unlit pyres. If the small, claw-like cuts in one of the fresher bodies were anything to go by, this was probably the handywork of vorcha. After she passed a half-opened apartment and risked a glance inside, not going any further after she had spotted the crib inside, Emily got ready to climb over a high barricade that had been set up at the other end of the plaza. Luckily she decided to first look over it. That allowed her to spot the sharp spikes and dead vorcha that were waiting on the other side. Before she considered whether or not she could make the jump needed to clear the spike, the scorch marks on the ground gave her more pause. She let her omni-tool run a brief scan and sure enough, the entire area in front of the barricade had been dotted with shrapnel mines. They weren't going this way, at least not in one piece.

"Whole place is mined. We're going back," she announced before jumping down the unfortified side of the barrier again.

"So much for a shortcut," Leng muttered, speaking her mind. Then something clattered and he suddenly lifted his rifle to one of the stores they had just passed. After a couple of seconds, Emily and Callius did the same when they caught the hint of a shadow withdrawing back into the store.

"I saw at least one figure. Can't say what it was though," the asian N7 muttered while they moved to the closest piece of cover, the corner wall of an apartment building. He braced his Valkyrie against the corner and clearly waited for her to make a call. She leaned past his shoulder and looked at the store front. Just like the rest of the shops, the glass window had been bashed in and most of the shelves she could see had been tossed over.

"Vorcha?" she asked. It was the most likely possibility.

"Vorcha don't usually hide," Callius injected. "They're too stupid for that."

"Could be survivors," Leng offered, his eyes still set on the store.

"Only one way to figure that out," Emily replied before activating the speakers on her helmet. "Whoever you are, come out! We're not here to hurt you!" she declared. For a few moments nothing happened. Then the clattering started again. The N7 braced herself for every possible outcome. Then a human stepped out and she got less tense. He had a receding hairline and wore a hexagon-patterned clinic uniform with a holo nametag. He also carried a satchel. If she had to take a guess, this guy was working for a clinic and if she played that guess to its logical conclusion, it had to be Solus' clinic.

"Don't shoot!" he said with his hands raised. Then he evidently recognized them as friendlies. "Oh thank god. You're HSA soldiers aren't you?"

"Yes," Emily replied before quickly mustering the man and then stepping out of her cover. Her weapon was now lowered about halfway to the ground to the point where it looked less threatening but where she could also still react if this turned out to be some kind of eloquent ambush. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Doctor Daniel Abrams," he responded quickly, his hands still raised.

"Do you work for a clinic?"

"Yes. Doctor Solus' clinic," he responded quickly, still diligently keeping his hands in the sky.

"Okay. Good," she said before lowering her gun completely, pleased to have been right. "You can lower your hands, Doctor. We're here for your partner."

"Partner? Oh no, there seems to be a misunderstanding here," Abrams said. "I work for Doctor Solus. I'm his assistant."

"You're a long way from your clinic, Doctor," the commander figured.

"Because I'm supposed to look for more survivors while Doctor Solus works on the cure," Abrams replied. "You know because us humans can't catch the virus."

"Yes I know," she said. "Hold on. Virus? I thought this was a plague, as in plague bacteria."

"Well then you thought just as wrong as the person who thought simple quarantine measures would prevent a spread of a disease as malicious as this one," Abrams shrugged. "We're dealing with a virus and it's a damn near perfect one at that too. You catch it fast but it kills you slowly so that you can spread it longer. It also doesn't seem to have any exploitable weaknesses and if you try to treat its symptoms, it adapts to the medicine you use. In fact, Doctor Solus thinks that it's so perfect because it's not a natural virus at all but some kind bioweapon. But since it doesn't match any known diseases, he's not sure who made it or what disease it's based on, which is obviously a pretty big issue when you're trying to find a cu-"

"Can you lead us to Doctor Solus' clinic?" Emily interrupted. This guy was talking a lot and while she normally wouldn't have a problem with getting more information, they were standing out in the open in what was supposedly vorcha-infested territory. It was not exactly the best place for a medical lecture on diseases.

"Yes, of course, just follow me this way," the doctor began. Then he suddenly froze in place. It took her a second to understand why.

"You down there," a baritone voice declared. "Drop your weapons and armor or we shoot." From the sound of it, it was coming from somewhere up above. She slowly turned around and found its source. A trio of batarian survivors had snuck up on them through the buildings and were now pointing their weapons at them from the top of one pillaged stores in the plaza. Just by the way they were holding the guns and how they failed to take cover Shepard could tell that these guys were the exact opposite of professionals. Her team would win in a shootout, no doubt. But she'd like to avoid one nonetheless. These people were victims, not enemies. "I gave you an instruction, human. Follow it!" the batarian who had taken it on himself to lead this 'negotiation', declared.

"We can take them, Em. Just say the word," Leng muttered through the squad intercom, clearly having made the same observations as her. She muted her helmet and answered.

"Stand down," she replied. Then she unmuted her helmet again and looked at the batarians. "And I'm not going to take it," she said calmly. "We're not here to hurt you. We're here to help you. Lower your weapons and follow us to Doctor Solus' clinic. It's safer there."

"Help us? You humans are the reason why we have this plague in the first place!" the batarian countered before waving his gun around and finally stopping on Callius. "Why are you even with them, turian? Can't you see that they're trying to kill us all so they can take Omega for themselves?"

"Like the commander said, we're here to help," the Blackwatch lieutenant retorted. "I can't speak for every last one of them, but these humans definitely have nothing to do with this plague," she could see the moment of consideration that the other two batarians were going through but since they weren't the ones in charge of their group, that'd do them little good right now.

"Listen. I understand that you're scared," Shepard went on, intending to build on what Callius had said. "I would be too if it was me up there. But I really don't think that we should be having this conversation here. This is supposed to be vorcha territory, no? What do you say we talk this out at the clinic?"

"The clinic? The entire damn district is vorcha territory, even if the salarian says otherwise!" the batarian called back before shacking his head again. "Now drop your weapons!" after he was done, one of his companions seemed to whisper something to him. "And the armor too!" he screamed and just a few seconds later, a loud cackling echoed through the plaza.

"How long are we going to drag this out?" Leng said over the squad intercom. "The vorcha could be over us every second and if they start shooting at us when they do, we're pinned between two sides. We have to move." He had a point.

"Hurry up already!" the batarian shouted. "I'm serious, I'll shoot you if you don't!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Shepard replied. Then she heard a series of howls followed by a detonation. They were coming towards the barricade and time was running out. "Just think about it. You shoot us, the vorcha find you, we both die," she said even if she had the reasonable suspicion that her team would walk away in one piece. Vorcha and untrained batarians weren't exactly a match for one Blackwatch officer and two N7 operatives. After she was done talking, the batarian seemed to weigh his options. Then he suddenly lifted his rifle and started shooting. Only when she was done diving to cover did Emily realise that his sudden aggression wasn't aimed at them but rather the first vorcha that had climbed the barricade.

"You say you're here to help us?" he shouted. "Keep them from getting in here!" She threw one final glance at him and then he vanished off the roof, presumably withdrawing back into hiding. A few seconds later the second vorcha jumped the barricade and snarled at her, a crude shotgun in one hand and a hatchet in the other. He didn't even make one step off the barrier before Emily started shooting. With vorcha there was no such thing as negotiations, the HSA had learned that very early on.

"Leng, get the doctor!" she ordered as the second vorcha slumped over and two more immediately took his place. Much like their dead companion, they wear armed with rather ineffective close-range weapons and only clad with minimal leather clothes. And just like him, they were easily dispatched. However, in keeping with the trend, two more took their respective places and this time around one of the vorcha carried what looked like a self-made flamethrower.

Not good.


Meanwhile, 2158 CE, Omega, Zara District

Just like he had done a thousand times before, Garrus was laying prone on top of yet another roof and just like before, there was a gang member in his sights. He was standing around two hundred paces away from the former C-SEC detective and certainly didn't expect that he was about to die. "Assault team, I've got you covered. Make your approach," Garrus muttered before centering his Mantis scope on the salarian's chest. He was leaning against the wall next to the side entrance and enjoying himself a smoke filled with Red Sand. In the very unexpected case that Sidonis failed to take the frail-looking drug addict down, Garrus would be ready to handle him. Of course he'd much rather be down there and lead the assault himself but he was by far the most qualified marksman of their squad so the duty of sniper overwatch had fallen into his hands once more.

"Copy that, Archangel," Sidonis said before he spun around the corner of the building and jumped the amphibian. He grabbed his head, covered his mouth with his gauntlet and then smashed it against the wall three times, leaving an acid-green smear of blood behind. Then he let go of the salarian and he slid to the ground, unresponsive and presumably dead.

"Target down, moving into the building now," Sidonis radioed before Garrus saw him go through the door. Then the sniper scanned what little he could see through the windows of the house that was serving as the base of operations of the Talons and their allies. While security wasn't too tight, Garrus had no reason to suspect anything. Nothing was out of the ordinary. As far as the gangs were concerned, they had the Blue Suns in a corner. So what should they be afraid of this far behind the front line?

By his count, only ten guards were mingling around on the first level. Three of them were Talons who actually took their jobs serious, the rest were reavers, gunrunners or Red Sand enforcers who mingled with each other in a kitchen. It really showed just how much his team had pissed them off that these people were willing to work with each other. On any other day, they'd kill each other but now they were allies. If his superiors didn't have other plans, he'd really like to see how the relationship between the gangs would evolve after the successful conclusion of their alliance. Would they stay allies or would they go back to fighting each other? They'd never find out because soon enough, they'd all be history.

He relayed the information to Sidonis and then moved on to the next level where he spotted a Talon lieutenant. She wasn't exactly high ranking, but killing her would deal a blow to the gang nonetheless. That'd be one of his mark once the assault team went loud. While he knew that she couldn't see him, Garrus still froze for a second when the turian turned to look out the window and stared at his concealed position. Her skin and plates were brown and her green facial markings ran straight down the middle of her face until they divided by the bridge of her nose and followed down to each of her mandibles. A Taetrian. Interesting. They didn't exactly have a reputation for spawning criminals but then again, everyone was bound to have outliers.

"Going loud," he heard over the radio in his helmet. Then he saw his target flinch as she heard the first shot. Not a second later, Garrus squeezed his trigger and spattered her brains across the wall behind her. He shifted his aim to the next window and looked at the human cowering behind the table, clutching a gun in his hand tight enough that his knuckles were turning white. Judging by the tattoo on his wrist, he was a Red Sand Guild leader, although not one of the big ones.

The emphasis here was on 'was'.

He squeezed off another Mantis shot and exploded the human's head. Then the heatsink of his Mantis protested and he ejected the spent thermal clip. A few years ago he would've had to wait but the upgrade to disposable heat sinks saved him those few precious moments of killing time. Again Garrus adjusted his aim but sadly enough, the other leaders in the house seemed to have realized that they were being targeted by a sniper. They had taken shelter outside of his view. Not that it stopped him. He reached for his belt and opened a slot on his gun, deactivating the mass accelerator component for just a second. The bullet he was about to fire wouldn't need it. It had to travel much slower because it held a 3D scanner linked to his HUD, which would allow him to see through the thin walls of the metal building. He squeezed his trigger and sent the device flying through the window he had already shattered. A few seconds later red figures appeared on his visor. He got his gun back into working order, added an armor-piercing mod and aimed at the head of the biggest target, a krogan who had pressed himself against the corner wall and was eagerly looking at the door. Just to be cautious, he fired twice in rapid succession this time around. While that immediately ejected his next thermal clip, the fact that the krogan had dropped dead made it worth it. Besides, he still had more than enough ammunition and the old-school heatsink of his rifle to fall back on.

"Moving on to the second level," Sidonis informed him while Garrus moved on to the next red silhouette. It was either another human or an asari. Not that it made a difference to him, everyone in that building excluding his team deserved to die. He squeezed the trigger and the mass accelerator round tore across the gap between the two buildings and drilled itself through the wall and into the humanoid's brain. Surprisingly enough however, the unknown person didn't die immediately.

"Biotic, huh?" he muttered. An asari most likely then. He went to squeeze the trigger again, only briefly wondering where all the important targets actually were. Then he shot and saw the asari drop through his scope. While there was now a hole in her throat and he only saw her for a split second, he immediately recognized her face. She was a disgraced Reaver lieutenant, one who'd been on the chopping block before this op. In fact his last information was that she had supposedly been spaced by the Reavers' leader.

Immediately his trigger-happiness stopped in its tracks and his detective mind began to race.

This house was supposed to be the base of operations of the attack on his team, the newly declared nemesis of all of these gangs. So how come the ones in charge were a minor Talon lieutenant, a small-time guild leader and a disgraced lieutenant who'd been marked for death by her own gang? Where were the big guys? The ones that actually wanted him dead? They certainly weren't leading the assault, they were far too cowardly for that. So what-

Oh crap.

He opened the squad intercom.

"Sidonis, get out of there! It's a trap-"

Before he could finish his sentence, an explosion shook the building and a large pillar of smoke climbed into the air. His heart stopped but his eyes didn't stop noticing details and his mind didn't stop drawing conclusion. The smoke was glinting with blue dust, which meant that this was an Eezo bomb, the go-to improvised explosive of the Talons. Furthermore there was just a smoldering ruin left of the house, which probably meant that the assault team was dead to the last man. He observed the ruin for a few minutes, hoping to find some sign of survivors, a moving piece of rubble or a scorched, blue armored figure who climbed out of one of the few corners of the house that had survived. But there was nothing. And that was entirely his fault. He should've made the connection earlier. Instead of staring down the turian, he could've spotted the asari earlier. But he hadn't. And there was nothing he could do to change that now. So Garrus did the only thing he could think of doing right now.

He crawled off the roof, folded his sniper rifle, unfolded his Phaeston, set a nav-point for his own trap and set out to avenge his team.

It wouldn't bring them back but he'd still kill every last one of this scum for what they had done.


Meanwhile, 21. March 2417 AD, Omega, Gozu District

As the cone of fire shot towards her, Emily managed to hunker down just in time. While she hugged the wall, the vorcha who was attacking her laughed like a madman.

"Burn, burn, bu-" he screamed right until a dampened biotic noise interrupted him. Immediately the cone disappeared. She turned around the corner and saw him float high up in the air, now engulfed in his own fire, burning alive. Mercifully his screams seemed to be muffled by the ball of biotic energy but the sight she was seeing was still clearly one of agony. She turned to look at its source and saw Callius, who was clutching her hand to a fist. Then Shepard realized that the turian was doing this intentionally. It was in that moment that she realized that her Blackwatch ally evidently had a rather cruel streak to her personality. While she didn't feel particularly bad for the alien that had just tried to burn her alive, she couldn't say that she agreed with this either. After ten seconds had passed and the vorcha was still trapped and still alive inside his self-inflicted inferno, Emily spoke up. Enough was enough.

"End it, Callius."

The turian complied without a second of question. The bubble of biotic energy vanished and gave way to the fire it had trapped. As the liquid flames fell to the ground around them, a lightning fast Phaeston burst ripped through the head of the vorcha and killed him before he ever hit the ground with a thud. Then Callius lowered her weapon and walked away without another comment, scanning the barrier as she did.

"You alright, Doctor?" Emily asked after making sure that it really had been the last vorcha. Roughly twenty of the luckily rather dim-witted aliens littered the plaza. If they had coordinated, they easily could've overwhelmed her team but as things were, they had just charged into their deaths.

"I'm fine," the man replied before following Leng out of cover. Then he glanced back at the shop. "I should go get them," he said nervously, obviously referring to the batarians. "You should go ahead and hurry to the clinic without me. I'll be right behind you."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go in there alone, Doctor," Shepard replied. Who knew what would've happened if the vorcha hadn't attacked them? She was pretty sure the batarians would've shot at them eventually. The paranoia had gotten to them.

"We can't just leave them here. Out here it's just a matter of time before they get infected."

"Yes, we can. They just pointed their guns at us," Leng countered dryly. "So fuck 'em. They had their chance. Now it's their own fault."

"They are scared," Abrams insisted. Then he turned to her. "Please, we can't just leave them here."

Both had a point.

But she could only really justify one course of action.

"We said we'd help them, so we'll help them," she declared before looking at the building. "Let's go."


Meanwhile, 2158 CE, Omega, Gozu District Clinic

"No. Wrong again. Would trigger horrific mutation in respiratory system of turians and quarians," Mordin muttered as he looked over his latest design for his cure. If there weren't this many lives at stake, this virus would've made for a very entertaining activity that was rather reminiscent of a hobby he had had when he was still an STG mission specialist. During the slower months of the year, he used to dabble in the defense against bioweapons and always rather enjoyed the challenge they posed. But as things were, he found the complexity of designing an airborne cure that worked for every affected patient, no matter their species, to be more of a time-consuming and increasingly worrisome problem to solve than a fun and nostalgic past-time activity. Back then he had just pushed around numbers. Now there were actual lives at stake. So he couldn't mess around like he used to and simulate increasingly more deadly pathogens before trying to come up with a working cure.

He had to beat this monstrosity and he had to do so quickly. By his estimations, about a third of the district was already dead and it hadn't even been two weeks since patient zero. Since then he had simulated about a thousand possible concepts and every last one of them had contained some fatal flaw that'd kill at least one species, an issue that was born from the fact that the virus he was dealing with wasn't naturally created but rather designed with maximum lethality in mind. Normally he wouldn't have a problem with killing a minority to save the majority, but this was different. This was medicine and he didn't kill people with medicine. It was one of the few principles that he had carried with him his entire life. He wiped the holographic flawed draft created Daniel Abrams away and looked at his most promising design yet, the one that would 'only' kill every asari within Gozu district about a week after distribution. If he could just find a solution to this last problem, then all would be well.

Suddenly his eyes widened.

He had it.

It had been in front of him the last ten minutes and he hadn't seen it because he had been so concerned with his own mistakes.

His hand wiped across the hologram again and produced the flawed draft once more. There it was, a small protein chain that Daniel had added as an afterthought. It was compatible with his own creation, fulfilled the necessary requirements and fixed the issue of causing severe blood clotting within all major blood vessels of infected asari. He tapped on the component and ignored the gunshots of his mechs outside, presumably they were just taking care of more vorcha raiders. It glowed in a bright green and then he wiped away the rest of the flawed creation. Next he summoned his own design and inserted the new protein chain in place of his own design. It fit perfectly. Then he ran a simulation. It took a few minutes, the hardware of the clinic was nothing compared to the lab he had had as a mission specialist with STG, but when it was finished, he looked at a result he could live with. One in one hundred thousand patients may suffer from lethal side-effects. While it was of course not the perfect solution, it wasn't even close to the moral ramifications of intentionally spreading a cure that acted as posing for one sixth of the district's population and well within the perimeters of normal medicinal risks. He clapped his hands, ran the simulation again just to be sure and then sent the file to the clinic's automated medication dispenser.

That was one more bioweapon that he had successfully vanquished.

Now to the matter of distribution.

He happily hummed his favorite song and walked over to his desk.

He had to reach the main ventilation system and spread the cure. It was the only way for him to circulate it to every last corner of Gozu. The only problem was that the main ventilation system happened to be home to a large pack of vorcha. He opened his drawer and looked at the gun. He couldn't send the mechs, not only were they too unsophisticated for this kind of operation, they also needed to protect the clinic. Therefor he'd have go on his own. He had outsmarted beings far smarter than the vorcha and killed aliens far tougher than them too. Unless there was a factor that he was unaware of, this should be a rather easy endeavor for someone with his skillset.

Suddenly something caught his eye, someone he had seen before. Back on Virmire, when he had still served with Kirrahe's infiltration group as their mission specialist. The memory was important and clear enough that it even blocked out the pinging sound that informed him that his cure was finished. Onyx-black armor. An N7 sigil stamped on the chest-plate. The right height and the right posture. As Commander rank insignias on her collar and a small, stylized Star of Valour on her shoulder pauldron that marked her as a recipient of the rare commendation.

Shepard.

No.

She'd been declared dead. Nonetheless, here she was, exactly like he remembered what little he had seen of her. Commander Shepard. He closed the drawer. There was no need for him to go out there. After the decision was made, a question popped into his mind. As it was habit, he placed his hand in front of his mouth. It was something he always did when playing out scenarios in his head

What did she want?

Could it be related to the virus?

Or had she been sent by STG?

The latter was more likely. STG were the only ones who knew where he had gone, and he also knew that they were still tracking him. Not that he minded, he'd do the same if he was in their position and it was always nice to have a brief chat with his former colleagues whenever they came around to check and see if he had turned into a mad scientist yet.

If that was the case, what did STG want that involved Shepard?

Was it related to the threat they had contained on Virmire, the Reapers?

Or was there something else?

Something new?

He was itching to find out but before he could satisfy his curiosity, he had to fulfill his responsibility as a physician. He grabbed the reinforced veil, got up and left his laboratory. Then he went to greet the N7 and was pleased to find that she was not only accompanied by two other equally qualified operatives, another N7 and a Blackwatch member, but also three batarian survives and Daniel Abrams. Good. If Daniel had died, a very gifted mind would've been lost. He cracked a friendly smile and waved at them.

"Hello, Commander Shepard. Have to say, your arrival perfectly timed. Curious about your reason for being here but afraid personal questions and introductions will have to wait," he slashed his hand through the air in a horizontal manner and threw one glance at Daniel. Then held up the veil. "Cure has to be distributed through ventilation system," he said while chopping imaginary blocks with his free hand and pacing around. It was something he always did when talking about something exciting, he just couldn't help it. "Would go myself but can't leave clinic alone. Patients require my attention. Hence asking you to go. Will of course return favor once you're back. Can render assistance with whatever mission brought you here," even if he had no idea what that was.

For a few seconds the N7 looked at him.

Then she grabbed the veil and nodded.

"I'll take you up on that."

He certainly hoped for that.


Codex: Omega

'Omega' is only the latest name given to the station built into the largest asteroid of the Sahrabarik system. Formerly a dense, metallic asteroid filled to the brim with element zero, Omega has been mined and inhabited ever since its discovery by batarian explorers in 93 CE. While there are hints of a prothean presence on the surface of Omega, examination of the chunks of rock surrounding Omega and an in-depth analysis of its surface have proven that the protheans failed to penetrate the asteroid's crust. Only after the collision with a much larger asteroid was Omega split apart and access to its rich core made available. Almost immediately the various factions and corporations of the Terminus systems scrambled to claim the system for themselves. However the Council, still weakened by the Rachni Wars, failed to step up and establish their presence in the system.

Ever since then, various cooperation's, Terminus Warlords and crime syndicates have lorded over the station and turned it into a hub for narcotics, weapons, terrorism, piracy and every kind of imaginable trafficking. Famous for going through major civil strife and leadership changes every couple of years, crime is rabid on the station. Since the absence of mercenary groups like Eclipse, street gangs have crushed what little order they had established and only the asari syndicate run by 'Aria T'Loak' (Editors Note 1: It is unknown if this is the real name of the asari crime lord) has managed to hold onto its power.

Although already famous for its instability, Omega went through even more turmoil in Spring of 2416 AD to Spring 2417 AD when vigilante groups with ties to the Blue Suns surfaced across the entire station. While their exact motivation remains unknown, unconfirmed sources claim that these groups served as the vanguard of a much larger Blue Suns operation that has yet to occur.


A/N:

And just like that, we can check off the first bit of the Omega arc!

Yes, I know you probably didn't expect Omega to get a full chapter (that's a lie, i know the introduction isn't set there) but since I kind of want it to be a parallel narrative, by which I mean that the Archangel and Solus plot are supposed to unfold at the same time, I feel like t deserved a full chapter (and will probably get a huge chunk of the next one too.

Since I didn't feel like rewriting plot-based action scenes, I settled for something I did a lot lately, skipping over action scenes by chaging place and character. This of course resulted in you getting a Garrus AND a Mordin POV (has there ever been a Garrus pov? The story's so big that I don't remeber anymore.

As you might be able to tell from his little segment and the chapter title, I really, really love Mordin. (who doesn't? He's the very model of a scientist salarian)

He's just such a great dude and I 100% want to hit his tone right. He deserves that and so much more

Other than that, I don't really have a lot to say.

Don't read too much into some things Aria said. I only really wrote certain lines like that because I figured "well this sounds like something Aria would say to mess with a paragon Shepard". In fact, don't read anything into her lines. She's a deceptive crime boss!

Do I have anything else to say?

Nope. Not really. Review and let me know what you thought of the chapter!

For the record we're at 633 reviews, 988 favs and 1081 follows.

See you around next time.