AUTHOR'S NOTE: Got a review I want to address directly to where all can see, as I wouldn't expect him/her being the only one feeling this way. Shepard won't always be so hard on Miranda and Jacob. Right now, in his eyes, they are literally nothing more than Cerberus scum. You'll see later that Shep begins the process of warming up to Jacob, but it'll take a lot of work for Miranda to shake some of her convictions, and become agreeable to Shep. That's all stuff I've been keeping in mind. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Commander John Shepard

As I had planned, after the conversation with Kelly, I was going over the dossiers I had been given. Meanwhile, of course, we were en-route to Omega. The first Dossier I opened was labeled: The Professor. Dr. Mordin Solus. He's ex-STG and in his thirties. His twilight years as a Salarian. He's an expert with Bio-Weapons, but his skills cover more or less anything remotely Biological. And beyond. Jack of all trades, master of all, it seems. At least, in science. So, he could help Chakwas in the Med-bay or any wounds in the field. That of course, on top of his research against the Collector Bio-Weapon. Maybe even developing new toys. There were some details about where he studied, but that wasn't something I was concerned about. Currently, he was running a clinic in the Omega Slums. An interesting change of pace for someone with his skills.

After closing Mordin's Dossier, I read through the others in alphabetical order. The first, was labeled Archangel. He's described as having small-unit tactical expertise, he's skilled with tech and his Omni-tool, and is a skilled sniper, at least from what Cerberus agents have gathered. He commands a kind of merc group that targets gang leaders and protects. The operations have been noticed for technical expertise and strategic brilliance, and a complete lack of any and all civilian casualties. A vigilante, it seems. Unfortunately, the only lead I have to find him, other than him being based on Omega, is that he's Turian.

The Convict. Jack. No last name, strangely. An exceptional biotic but with a criminal background, and is currently in custody. Jack is rumored to be the most powerful human biotic, but little else is known. Jack has a history of violence, and is held on a Freelance prison ship in the Terminus, ran by a Turian with close ties to the Blue Suns. Cerberus has already negotiated for Jack's release, so, as far as I'm concerned, this convict can wait.

The Master Thief. Kasumi Goto. Human, obviously, and the name is clearly Japanese. She's skilled in Sabotage, infiltration, extraction, property acquisition, a rather pretty word for theft, stealth, and agile combat. The dossier goes on to say how she's stolen extremely valuable resources from Cerberus in the past. Alarm systems, DNA encoders, guards, and plenty other security systems were all bypassed, and Cerberus has no idea how. I think I'll like her. Cerberus, clearly with this mission in mind, decided to track her down. I doubt they succeeded in making contact with her, but rather she learned they were looking to contact her, and made the first move. A deal was struck. I'm supposed to meet her on Zakera Ward on the Citadel, look for a special ad terminal by the docking bay there, and input the password, "Silence is Golden." Didn't know she was an old AMC theatre. Hm, the Citadel. Good chance for me to go see Anderson and the Council. Shit, if I go there, no way I'll be fully unnoticed. Maybe Chakwas can help me communicate with mom in a way that doesn't get her hopes up, but won't leave me with five million furious messages and calls. Back on track…

The Warlord. A Dr. Okeer. Krogan Doctor, eh? Interesting, only other one I ever saw was on Virmire. He's got several hundred years of strategic and combat experience. And apparently, a rumored familiarity with Collector tech. Dossier describes him as brilliant and brutal, and a veteran of the Rebellions. He's obsessed with saving the Krogan from the Genophage, and seems that he struck a deal with the Collectors to gain the necessary tech. He's at a Blue Suns camp on Korlus, which is basically a galactic Junkyard. His relationship with the Mercs is unknown. So, grab Mordin and Archangel, go to Korlus, get Jack, then Kasumi. Let's see how the next Dossier comes into play.

The Veteran. Zaeed Massani. Surprise, surprise, a name I actually know. Though I've never met or seen the man. He's a Bounty Hunter, and has the reputation as one of the best Bounty Hunters. That's more or less the limit to my own knowledge of the man. The dossier fills in the gaps. He's skilled in combat, survival, tactics, and protection. He's not like the more subtle bounty hunters. When he hits, he hits hard. Yet, at the same time, isn't an idiot about it. Lately he hasn't been taking many jobs, and instead spends his time drinking and shooting would-be rivals. Like with Kasumi, a deal had been struck with him. He's on Omega, wrapping up a bounty, but knows to meet up with us. We'll find him at Afterlife, the main bar and club.

As I closed the dossiers, an alert popped up. Seems TIM is finishing a few others.

So, game plan hasn't changed. Just picking up a third person on Omega is all. Might as well head down to the armory and see about weapons. I got off the chair, and into the elevator, took it down to CIC, stopping myself from instinctually pressing the cargo bay button. It opened, and I turned towards the armory. Jacob was cleaning his weapons.

"Commander, ready to see what we have?"

"I am. There a way for me to toy with them before we arrive?"

"Course. The briefing room can double as a small simulator. We have dummy weapons of everything on board that will simulate the whole thing perfectly. Even the kick," Jacob answered.

"Perfect. So, let's start with AR's." Jacob nodded, putting down his pistol and the dirty rag as he moved to one of the weapon lockers.

"You already know the Avenger, so I'll lay one out for you but won't bother going over it. We'll start with the M-15 Vindicator" Jacob took out and extended a brown rifle with a flat, trapezoid-like body. Simply made, and it had a scope. "High accuracy, low recoil. Fires in three round bursts with twenty-four shots a clip. 73 RPM overall, with 900 RPM per burst. You can pulse the shots to make it much more rapid. Not effective at close range, but strong at medium to long." I held a hand out to take it, and Jacob handed it over. I tested the weight and put the stock against my shoulder. Testing a good way to hold it. The grip, both for the hand at the trigger, and under the barrel, was comfortable enough, and easy enough to grip tightly. I set it down.

"That's one I think I'll take to the range. I prefer marksman weapons anyway."

"Then I'll pass over the M-76 Revenant. It's a full auto with a massive clip and high damage, but it's kick is brutal and it's inaccurate. Only one other AR weapon we have though, and you might recognize this one." He took out a clearly bulkier weapon and extended it. It was an older weapon, and one not generally used by the military. Farmers and Colonists normally.

"A Mattock?"

"Yes and no. Same name, but this one has gone through some upgrades. Funny story actually. EDI went over old battle telemetry and suggested that older, tried and true methods were being overlooked to try and make the cutting edge. An AI, telling us to tone down the tech," he chuckled. And I admit, I cracked a smirk. "We took some old Mattocks, but they still weren't military grade as they were. So, we adapted them to the new thermal clip system, and we modified its ammo. Lo and behold, the M-96 Mattock Heavy Rifle. Semi-auto with the low heat production of an AR, and a sniper's punch. Very accurate with next to no recoil. You can pulse through a whole clip and each shot will be tightly grouped. 750 RPM with 16 shots a clip. Surprisingly strong against both shields and armor, rather than one over the other. Up against an enemy with a helmet, it sometimes goes through to kill, sometimes it doesn't. But you can double tap fast enough that if they survive the first, it's impossible for them to not be hit by the second. Simulator showed me that," Jacob explained. I let out a whistle.

"That all sounds like it makes for a perfect gun, Jacob. Liking the sound of that more than the Vindicator."

"I'll get you set up in the sim with it once we're done. And final mention, the clip goes into the side right there. So, Shotgun?"

"Don't use em too often, but wouldn't hurt to go over them."

"Shotgun preferences?"

"Tighter spread, generally, but I want it strong enough to cut through a Krogan and his armor."

"Narrows it down to one. For now, at least. Goes by two names. Lieberschaft 2180, better known as the M-22 Eviscerator. Doesn't shave off chips or pellets from an ammo block, but rather serrated metal wedges that fly aerodynamically. Shreds armor, keeps the rounds grouped tightly, gives it better range. May or may not violate intergalactic weapons treaties. Militaries don't use it, but, well, Spectre's are a cut above that, aren't they?" Jacob remarked. "Three shots a clip, though, goes here, then pump it."

"Wouldn't hurt to try it. Sniper?"

"Honestly, with your preferences, you might as well stick with the Mantis. Hits the hardest," Jacob suggested. I just nodded. "Leaves us with pistols and heavy weapons. So, pistols, you still prefer something likely to take them down in one shot?" I nodded again. "Then you want the M-5 Phalanx. It's like the Carnifex, which they like to advertise as being able to stop a charging Krogan. The Phalanx is that but developed with military expertise. More accurate, more power," Jacob explained as he took the weapon out, placing it in front of me. "Even has a built-in laser sight. Clip goes in the same way as the Predator."

"Sounds good to me. So, last but not least, the big guns."

"Right. There is the M-100 Grenade launcher you used on Freedom's progress and the Lazarus facility. The only other heavy weapon we have on hand is the ML-77 missile launcher. The missiles themselves are small and easy to carry, easy to load, and it has an IFF homing system. Aim isn't a huge issue."

"Rather have that than the grenade launcher, even if it makes such a satisfying noise," I mused. "Now, weapon mods. I want a scope and foregrip for the mattock and a better sight for the Phalanx."

"Can do. Here, I'll set you up for the combat sim, then attach the mods. I'll send you copies of the weapon manuals."

"Thanks," I stated, as he led me along through a side door behind the elevator, behind CIC. At the other end was the tech lab, but the middle had a door. Inside was a small table in the center. The room otherwise painted completely white. The table descended to the floor, and some panels on the walls opened showing the frames of each weapon type. I took the rifle, and the panels retracted.

"It will scan you, then you'll see a target range. When you look at the weapon frame, it'll look just like a Mattock. Enjoy.

If I'm honest, I did.

After the session, I returned to the armory and let him know I was very happy with these weapons. Took some getting used to at first, of course, as I learned how much kick to expect as well as learning my body once again to see how much of it I could combat. I should probably go see about training for my new biotic capabilities, but that will also likely mean talking to Miranda. Something I'm just not eager to do right now. I thought I'd go see Joker. See how he likes the new Normandy. I made my way to the cockpit, seeing Joker front and center in the pilot's seat with all the displays lit up. Through the viewports, nothing but the pitch black of FTL. I also noticed that EDI had decided to keep her display online at a holopad beside him. Wonder what the purpose for that is. Joker must have heard the footsteps, and then the chair swiveled around. He saw it was me, and beamed. I could tell. He was ecstatic. And still shirtless.

"Am I dreaming, or something, Shepard? I mean, it's my baby! Better than new. Shit fits me like a glove! And leather seats," he shook himself in his chair. "Military set the hardware standard, but on a first-gen frigate, they could care less if the seats breathe. Civilian sector designs for comfort."

"Not sure this counts as civvie sector," I joked.

"The reproduction was not designed to be perfect, Mr. Moreau. Seamless improvements were made," EDI added. I noticed his features fell to annoyance.

"And there's the downside. Gotta admit I liked the Normandy better when she was beautiful and quiet." He began. Before he could continue, I butted in.

"So what, you like your ships like you like your women? Stick with sex dolls."

"Ha, ha, very funny. At least a sex doll wouldn't break my pelvis. What I was going to say, is that now, my baby has this thing I don't want to talk about. Ship cancer or something."

"I'll admit, the ship is good, great, even. Still, doesn't feel like home yet. Not like the SR1."

"There's still us, and Chakwas. I'll take what I can get. Last two years sucked," he looked down. Bad memories flooding him. "But that's the past now. Look, they invested too much to just screw us over. Even with this AI spying on us, it'll be better than the old days."

"Well, the old days did end by setting a pretty low bar. I died, won't take much to beat that," I joked.

"You're such a downer," he chuckled, turning back around. Before turning back towards me. "By the way, I heard you saw Tali on Freedom's Progress. How is she?" I couldn't help but smile.

"She's a leader now. She also slapped me." I revealed.

"Tali slapped you?! Are you sure it was the same girl?" Joker laughed.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I explained everything though, said she'd see about joining us once her next mission is done. I was actually going to send her a message, let her know about all this."

"Tell her I said hi." I nodded and turned to go back to my quarters. I got there and sat down in the chair in front of the Terminal. Ah, some setup. Just wants to link to my Omni-tool. It'll log in right away once it verifies its mine. Technically I can't access the extranet while in FTL. But there is a program that allows me to log into or create an email, and write up a message. Once out of FTL, and once connected to a comm buoy, the terminal will automatically sync with my email, and send the message.

Tali

Like I told you, I went back to see what Cerberus was going to offer. As much as I wish I could have turned the offer down, I couldn't. For Humanity's sake. For the Galaxy's sake. Fortunately, TIM understands that I'd never take orders from him, or join his organization, so he has not made that any of his terms. He's willing to provide intel and funding in my mission against the Collectors. All I have to do is leave his operations alone. For now, at least. I'm sure this message is being read over, but I think you know how little of a shit I give. What's more, is that Cerberus has given me a ship. And I'd think you'd like it. The Normandy SR-2. It's still technically a frigate, but it's a bigger, stronger, faster, and more powerful Normandy. I haven't read up on the specs yet, but I plan to. It looks, and is laid out almost just like her, but bigger and with extra bits. The crew is all Cerberus, but it seems like few of them actually know anything about the organization. I think there's also two other members of the crew you'd be both surprised and ecstatic to see. I know I was.

Joker and Doc Chakwas. Both of them say hi, and hope to see you here soon. So do I.

Anyways, I've been given dossiers on specialists across the Galaxy to go and recruit. Right now, we're on our way to Omega. Have three different ones to recruit. A Salarian scientist, some Turian Vigilante called Archangel, and Zaeed Massani. One of the Galaxy's best bounty hunters. There are a few other dossiers elsewhere, and TIM is finalizing a few others, but I plan to add a few of my own to that. See if I can't find Kaidan or Garrus. Maybe see if Liara wants to join up. And, of course, you.

I'm looking forward to that talk, by the way.

Shepard

I logged the message to be sent and took a deep breath. Couldn't help but smile a bit. Then my body decided to remind me how long it's gone without any sleep. I yawned and looked at my bed. Time to try it out.

Commander John Shepard

Fuck it, I'll say it. That was the best sleep I've had in years. Shitty jokes aside, that was really a good bed. I rolled onto my back, looking up as I opened my eyes. Hm, there's a viewport up there. I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. Huh, I think it is just a tad bigger. Won't complain. I finished and made my way to get dressed in my under suit, and then armor. Omega calls for that. Just as the door opened though…

"We will-" EDI began.

"Christ on a bike, EDI! I'm still waking up here! Look, if you need to tell me something when I'm in here, just… I don't know, ring a chime or something," I exclaimed. Thought I was alone in here. Gonna have to get used to this AI.

A chime rang.

"My apologies, Commander. I was trying to inform you that we would be exiting FTL in fifteen minutes. Just outside of the Omega asteroid belt."

"Thank you," I sighed. I got back to the business of suiting up, and when finished, made my way down to crew quarters. A decent amount of the crew was present, including Chakwas, Ken, and Gabby. I greeted them and noticed it was quiet now, most of the crew sitting straight up as they ate.

"If you don't know much about Cerberus, at ease," I stated. Grinning to myself as about three quarters relaxed their stance, while three continued to sit straight up, and even tossed confused glares at those now at ease. They seemed to also be waiting for me to say something. It wouldn't be what they were hoping to hear. "Who's the mess, sergeant?"

"That'll be me, Sir. Rupert Gardner," an older man answered a gruff voice.

"I'll just take a protein bar and some water, please."

"Right away." He returned a moment later with a protein bar and a bottle of water. I ate the bar, downed the water, and left. Went to the armory, got my weapons and clipped them to my armor, and stocked up on Thermal clips. My belt had a pouch on both sides that held about a dozen clips on its own. My greaves even had slots that could hold just a few more.

"EDI, anything changed in Omega since I've been gone?"

"Not by a significant amount. The addition of the Vorcha to the ranks of the Blood Pack have made them capable of expanding their influence and control through much of the station, but little else has changed.

"Vorcha?"

"A species discovered by the Blood Pack a few months after your death. They were a tribal society constantly fighting one another, and had not developed space travel on their own. They are not intelligent, savage, are short-lived, and reproduce rapidly. They are smart enough to use firearms, but generally not enough to think strategically. They have limited regeneration, like the Krogan, and are immune to all diseases."

"So, nothing of value has been gained," I muttered. I made my way to the bridge to watch. We exited FTL shortly, just outside the asteroid field, and right by Omega. Alerts popped up that we were connected to the comm buoy network, and that nearby ships were being tracked. Omega didn't have any air traffic control as it had no government, and no one cared enough to start one. If anything, the gangs would just tell anyone about to land in docking bays they keep for themselves to fuck off. I looked over the large station. Built into, though mostly 'under' a large asteroid. Red lights near the top with some kind of fins lining it. Maybe part of the shields that protect the station from other asteroids. The rest of the station just went down like a large pillar.

"Now, let's try to find somewhere to land…" Joker murmured as we got closer and closer to the station.

"Hey, you, Normandy," a gruff Batarian voice hailed us.

"Normandy responding. What do you want?" Joker answered.

"Aria wants to speak to you. Land by Afterlife. Over here," a dock designation was sent.

"Works for me," I shrugged. Joker took that as his go ahead.

"Fine by us. On our way." A lot less formal than the Citadel. And I wonder why Aria wants to see us. Maybe she recognizes the Normandy?

"EDI, ensure that Jacob and Miranda are ready to disembark. I want them armed. Have them report up here, we'll exit as soon as we dock."

"At once, Shepard."

"If this was anywhere else in the Galaxy, I'd ask to go out with you. Haven't been to a strip club in ages," Joker remarked.

"Well, least you're connected to the extranet here. I'm sure the local net is particularly filthy," I joked.

"Good point, just need to find EDI's cameras and cover em all up first. Don't want anyone at Cerberus to see that."

"My surveillance is in place for the safety of the crew, Mr. Moreau," EDI stated.

"What was it Ben Franklin said? He who sacrifices Liberty for Security deserves neither?"

"Yeah," Joker laughed. "The only security I need when jacking off is from viruses. And prying eyes." I chuckled with him as Miranda and Jacob arrived.

"Commander. First the ship, and now your own clothes. Must you really be so childish?" Miranda questioned. I turned glaring daggers.

"Lawson, childish would have been forcing the entire crew to strip to their skivvies until they found other clothes and uniforms. I'm sorry that I refuse to adorn myself or my ship with the symbol of a damn terrorist organization that killed forty-nine men and women under my command. Oh, and I know about the Idenna as well. Experimenting on a little girl, then killing innocent civilians to try and get her back."

"They most certainly exaggerated. And besides, it was hardly personal," Miranda shrugged off.

"Lawson. The only reason my fist is not connecting with your face right now is that I will likely need you all combat ready shortly. From this point forward, as your commanding officer, I order you to shut the fuck up. You will speak when spoken to. During combat, I will allow you to speak to provide tactical input." I growled. And I ended there, testing.

"This is-"

"Did I ask for your opinion?" I bellowed. "Did I give you permission to speak? Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," she answered, clearly furious.

"You goddamn better. Do the two of you know what one of the largest differences between Cerberus and I are? Unlike Cerberus, I will never knowingly put innocent lives at risk. Regardless of their species," I began pacing in front of them both, hands behind my back. "Unlike Cerberus, I will show mercy. Unlike Cerberus, I know that the ends do not justify the means. Lawson, do I make myself clear?" I stopped, right in Miranda's face.

"Sir, yes sir." She answered again.

"Taylor, do I make myself clear?" I stopped in front of him.

"Sir, yes sir." It wasn't lost on me just how different his response was to Miranda's.

Jacob showed respect.

"Taylor, I see you are not only armed but armored as well. I see you, like me, suspect that at least one of our potential recruits will take some convincing. And that convincing is most likely to involve combat. You plan well, soldier."

"Thank you, sir." he saluted. I stepped in front of Lawson.

"And I see you, Lawson, are still dressed in the same skintight suit as on Freedom's progress. Are you hoping to seduce our recruits into joining?"

"That is insulting!" she exclaimed.

"Indeed, it is! But what is more insulting, is that you are calling yourself a combatant! If you were a member of the deck crew, or if we were not about to exit the ship for potential combat operations, you could walk around in your skivvies and I couldn't give less of a flying fuck if I wanted! But if we come under hostile fire, if your shields, if your barrier collapses, you will have no protection against the next shot to come your way! Now while I will most certainly shed no tears at your loss, you will instead be compromising both the mission, and the lives of Taylor, myself, and any other combatants we recruit to our cause. If you are dead, that is one less combatant for our side. If you are wounded, then that will require one of us to protect and remove you from the battlefield, ridding us of two combatants! If biological weapons come into play, you will be exposed, you will not be fully sealed from the environment, and that will get you killed. If part of the station's hull becomes compromised to us, you will be exposed to a vacuum, and that is absolutely unacceptable! I order you to find, and don a full suit of armor. I do not care if it is light, medium, or heavy, but you are not leaving this ship with us until then. Understand?" I finished.

"Sir, yes sir," she still glared but stormed off towards the armory.

"Damn, I would have hated to have you as my drill sergeant," Jacob remarked.

"He wasn't even talking to me at all, and I think I shit myself," Joker called out, laughing.

"Going into combat unprepared… the fuck's going through her head?" I muttered.

"For what it's worth, she does have plenty of combat experience. As long as I've known her, never seen her in armor. Still comes out alive from combat ops."

"Wounds?"

"The occasional. You're no stranger to that either though," Jacob shrugged.

"But if she had armor she wouldn't have had as many of them. In battle, three things matter. Skill, first and foremost, followed by equipment. And just a dash of luck."

"True enough, but she's had quite a lot of luck," Jacob added.

"Ha!" I scoffed. "You think she'd have learned from having spent two years rebuilding me. Your luck runs out eventually." Jacob didn't answer. And I realized. I was talking to him… decently. Well, he did show respect, and while in the armory, he was being friendly, despite everything. Means he doesn't blame me for it. About half an hour later, Miranda returned, wearing an armor similar to mine, but black and orange, no N7, and she had a helmet attached to the belt.

"Now it's acceptable. Move out." The airlock doors opened, and we entered, then waited for it to equalize pressure. Didn't take long, and we disembarked the ship. I began leading the other two towards the end. There was a Salarian in scrappy, dirty clothes. He approached with a broad grin.

"Welcome to Omega! You're new here, aren't you?" A Batarian in armor, with Aria's symbol, a metal fist sheathed in biotic power, approached, one pair of eyes on the Salarian, those brows furrowed, and the other pair at us. "I can always tell. Allow me to-" The Salarian heard the footsteps behind and then beside him, the Batarian at the Salarian's side, body pointed at us, face to him. "Oh… Hello, Moklan!" the Salarian chuckled awkwardly. "I was just-"

"Fuck off, Fargut. Now," the Batarian warned.

"Of course, Moklan! Whatever she wants!" he nervously laughed, scratched the back of his neck, and ran off.

"Blasted scavengers," Moklan shook his head. He then faced us. Surprisingly, no animosity. "Welcome to Omega… Shepard."

"Surprised you know who I am," I remarked.

"Had you marked the moment you were in the system. You're not as subtle as you think," he shrugged. I turned back to Miranda and Jacob.

"Did we even have the stealth drive on?"

"No reason. We weren't trying to hide," Jacob answered.

"Well, there you have it, Moklan. If we didn't want, you to know we were here…"

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. What does, is that Aria wants to know what brings a dead Spectre to Omega. I suggest you come with me and present yourself."

"Tell her to relax. Here to find three people, maybe make a few purchases at the markets, and leave."

"A dead Spectre. Walking around on her station. She wants to know from you."

"Permission to speak, Commander?" Lawson requested bitterly.

"Granted."

"I advise we listen. Aria can be reasonable, but more than a pain in the ass when angry. Besides, she may be able to provide us with a lead on one of our recruits."

"Alright, then I suppose I'll play along. Lead the way," I gestured.

The Batarian turned and led us out of this docking bay. Turns out, we were right in front of Afterlife. At least, part of it. There was a line before the stairs that led up to the door, held back by an Elcor bouncer. The line was sizeable, but a large section of the way up and it was left open. For people that don't have to wait. Above the door was the club's name in bright holo letters, and a pair of fire jets on the left and right sides. And of course, a large vidscreen just above of a scantily clad Asari dancer. Some more guards were at the door, weapons down and relaxed, but still on show. After how long this system's been in place, those in the line knew better than to complain that we were bypassing them. The guards eyed us, me specifically, as we entered. It was a long hallway, with some chairs and sofas that had a few sitting in them. Plenty of variety to the species present. The walls were lined with video screens showing nothing but fire. We passed through the hallway to Afterlife proper. The center of the room was dominated by a large pillar surrounded by a 360 holo display. Showing more dancers, of course. Shaking their asses to techno blaring. The pillar extended to both the lower and upper levels. At certain intervals, the pillar was surrounded by a physical ringed platform with stripper poles, and dancers. Asari were exclusive to the main show, as every species lusted after them, but I noticed that on tables at the sides of the room, or the upper, still visible levels, there would be Humans, Turians, think I even saw a Batarian dancing for a group. So far, only seen females be doing the dancing. But I'm sure Afterlife has plenty of male strippers somewhere or other. Not really interested in where, though.

Moklan led us around the right side, past a bar staffed by a few bartenders. An Asari and two Turians, then up to the back of this area, towards a staircase protected by another Batarian guard. A VIP booth. The back housed people that must have Aria's favor. All being treated by dancers. I noticed that one Turian was had his arms sprawled out on his couch, legs spread wide, head back, and there was a little blue ass peeking out from under the table. Shaking and bobbing. But to the left, facing the inside of the bar, was three additional Batarian guards, two more Asari dancers on poles to the left and right of a large, sprawling, very comfortable looking sofa, and a purple Asari with her back turned, white vest, dark skin tight, maybe leather or spandex for all I know, and leggings. Along her side, just above and at the hips, showed some skin. Moklan gestured for me to step up. So, I began walking up the stairs. I was only halfway up when she spoke.

"That's close enough." One of the guards stepped forward and ran a scan with his Omni-tool. Hm, gotta hand off my weapons.

"He's clear."

"If you're looking for weapons… you're doing a pretty bad job," I remarked.

"I don't care about your weapons. You can't be too careful with dead Spectres. Could be anyone wearing your face," Aria answered, still not turning.

"So, I hear you're who I should ask if I had questions." Aria then turned. She had some markings. A black stripe along her chin, a pair of arcs between her eyes, and a line that looks… huh, like a text bracket on her cheek.

"Depends on the questions." I was permitted to step up to the same level.

"You run Omega?"

Aria laughed. She turned back again and held her arms out wide. Bathing herself in the light of the pillar, and her back shaded.

"I am Omega," she proclaimed. A dramatic flair. She turned back to me. "You already know that. And you need more. Everyone needs something, and they all come to me. I'm the boss, CEO, Queen, if you're feeling dramatic." She moved to her couch and sat down, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back. "It doesn't matter. Omega has no titled ruler and only one rule." Aria gave a prideful grin. "Don't fuck with Aria."

"Nice, simple, easy to remember," I remarked. She gestured for me to sit. So I did.

"If you forget, someone will remind you."

"Then I toss your sorry ass out the nearest airlock," one of the Batarians added. I was sitting on an entirely different arm of the couch, so she turned her head to her right.

"I'll admit curiosity, but I doubt whatever you desire will matter much to Omega."

"I came here for recruits. Got dossiers on three people. Hoping you might be able to tell me more about them, where to find them. Mordin Solus, but we already know where to find him." I began.

"The Salarian doctor? Hm. You might have some difficulty getting to him. He's in the middle of a quarantined plague zone trying to find a cure."

"There's a plague here?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes, but it's securely locked down. Either everyone inside will die, and I'll send some humans, they're surprisingly immune, to clean it out, kill torch it, and start over. Or Mordin will cure it and it'll be business as usual. I always liked Mordin, by the way. He's as likely to heal you as he is to shoot you," Aria gave a strange smirk.

"You know him? What can you tell me about him?"

"Ex-STG. That's obvious. Brilliant and dangerous. Just don't get him talking. He never shuts up," she kept the smirk. "You really want in, I'll have someone tell a guard to let you take a shuttle, let you in."

"Alright, so, Archangel. I'm looking for him too."

"Ha! You and half of Omega. Except unlike you, they all want him dead." I let out a whistle.

"Tired of his vigilantism?"

"If you want to call it that. He thinks he's fighting on the side of good. Omega doesn't have a good side. Everything he does pisses someone off, and it's caught up to him."

"I think he and I will get along great. You got a bone to pick with him?"

"No, he's been smart enough to leave me alone. So, I don't care. But you'll make some enemies teaming up with him. Fair warning."

"Ah I'd probably just piss them all off sooner or later," I shrugged.

"If you want Archangel, it'll have to be right now, not just sooner. Gangs found his hideout. And he's got the Blood Pack, Blue Suns, and Eclipse all working together to bring him down. He's cornered, but from what I hear, they're having… trouble, finishing him off. They'll hire anyone with a gun to help. Recruiting in a private room, just over there."

"Shit," I murmured. "Then I'll need to wrap this up quick. Can you tell me if Zaeed Massani is in Afterlife right now?"

"Massani? He just stepped out for a piss. Should be back here any moment now, but he might be a bit annoyed. Looks like Casius just finished his turn." I turned back to see that the Turian who had been getting… treated earlier was shuddering, and then an Asari came up from underneath the table. Classy.

"Oi! You finally fucking done?" a gruff, older voice called out from behind.

"Hey, Zaeed!" Aria shouted to him.

"Fuck you want, beautiful? Willing to let me break Omega's number one rule?"

"Not a chance. You got a Spectre's attention," she gestured her head to me.

"Wot?" he asked, an English accent showing itself. "Oh, Shepard, right?" he made his way up the stairs. "Sure, you couldn't have arrived thirty minutes from now? I'm- I was about to be in the middle of someone." The man had heavy scars on the right side of his face, and his right eye was faded, blind in that eye. He was wearing heavy yellow armor and had a Vindicator on his back.

"Sorry, Zaeed. One of our other recruits is in trouble, and I'd rather have as many guns as I can get."

"I'll be fighting with a stiffy, but I won't turn down a good fight either. Two conditions. One, Illusive fuck tell you about our deal?"

"Only that you had one. Figured credits."

"Not entirely. We'll talk about it on the ship. Second condition, after that, I get to come back here and finish with Veli."

"Works for me," I shrugged.

"Then let's get a fucking move on."

"Thanks for the information, Aria. Sounds like I don't have much time to waste."

"You have all the time in the world. Archangel? Not so much." I stood and made my way down the steps. Miranda and Jacob ready, and we moved down to the private room indicated.

"To save you the breath, Shepard, I'll follow your orders. It's what I'm paid for," Zaeed stated.

"Got a helmet?"

"Not unless you want me to waste time and go back to my place here. Besides, it'll be good for them to recognize me," Zaeed shrugged. Fair enough. For now, at least. A Batarian in Blue Suns armor was standing outside the private room.

"Hear you're recruiting."

"Hm-hm. Why don't you step inside?" he stood aside, and the door opened. Inside was another Blue Suns Batarian at a console, with a Freelance standing in front of him. Older, outdated armor, weapons don't look too high quality. The Blue Suns armor is only decent because they can afford decent standard issue armor. It's comparable to most militaries in fact.

"You'll get paid when the job's done, just like everyone else. Next!" the merc called out as the Freelance left. "Hm…" he hummed, intrigued, nodding his head. Eying over us. "You four look like you could do some real damage. You kill for that N7?"

"You could say that…" It's not a lie. You need combat experience before you can be commended.

"Should consider joining up with the Suns officially after this. So, looking for a good fight?"

"A fight against Archangel."

"Good. Standard fee is five-hundred creds each. Paid when the job's done. You die, your friends don't collect your share. You need your own weapons and armor, but you got that covered. And this doesn't make you a member of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or the Blood Pack. For this, you are a freelancer. Period. Any questions?"

"Where's it at?"

"His base of operations. That's all I can tell you. But we'll get you there."

"Guessing we'll get the plan once we're there?"

"Yeah."

"Guess we're ready then."

"Good. Just head to the transport depot outside the club. Main door, turn right. There're several shuttles ferrying freelancers out. One of our boys will take you from there."

Archangel

Not sure how much more I can take. Stims can only keep one going for so long. I haven't gotten much time to get any food or water either. I'm not wounded, not yet. But damn if I'm not tired. I leave used clips within reach, so I can use them again when they cool, but I'm due to be without any to use sooner or later. Helps I've put so many mods into this rifle. I can get more out of each clip. Still, I have an AR on hand for when they get a bit closer. I'll make them pay for it, but, doesn't seem like I have much to survive for. The whole team's dead.

Dad was right. About more than just what Shepard convinced me. I fought so hard not to listen. Every argument we had. Now I'm paying for it. Suppose there's just one last loose end to tie up. There was a small break in the shooting, in them trying to cross this bridge. I dialed my father.

"Hello?" he answered. Bullets struck my cover again and I stood to return.

"Dad." I fired.

"Garrus?! Is that you? What's that noise?" he was concerned.

"Just a little target practice." He knew what I meant.

"Then call me back later," he demanded.

"I don't think I'll be able to do that. Too many targets," I stated. He paused.

"I see." his voice fell. I fired again.

"I just wanted to hear your voice. Know how retirement was treating you. You good?"

"I'm fine, forget about that."

"Listen, I don't have much time. I wanted to say… you were right. About a lot more than I gave you credit for. And I'm sorry we butted heads so much." I loaded another clip and fired again. If it wasn't for this firefight, I'd probably be choking up.

"I said forget about that. These targets you're practicing on. They're moving fast?"

"So far, not fast enough. But they're learning."

"How are your clips?"

"You know how it is. Could always use a few more."

"Work with what you've got. Then, you don't stop pulling that trigger till it clicks, son," Dad ordered. Not angrily. Almost… pleadingly. I loaded a new clip. "No matter how bad things are falling apart around you, as long as you have at least one bullet left, you can get the job done. Understand?" I put my eye back down the scope. A body, someone wearing the N7 logo. Hm, fate playing a cruel joke. I aimed the scope to see the face of this man. This bastard who killed an N7 and took his body. He dies first. Dad was still talking.

"You finish up what you have to do there, and then you come home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out."

Impossible. The face of the man wearing that N7? A man who earned it.

Shepard. He was at the far end of where the new mercs were always coming from before they went to the front. He was looking straight at me. Couldn't recognize me, not with my helmet. I need to keep his cover. Even if I'm wrong, and going crazy, well, better to just die hoping, right? I swapped to a concussive round and shot him in the torso. He reeled back, likely feeling like he just got punched in the gut, and dove down out of my line of fire.

"Garrus?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Thanks, Dad. For everything. I have to go now. Don't worry about me." My mandibles flared into a grin. "My odds just got a whole lot better." Dad took a deep breath.

"Give em hell, son."