There he was.

Arek swung one leg over the edge, pulled himself up, and rolled onto the roof. Lying on his back for a moment, he stared into the fake sky. The elevator to the roof had been broken years ago, the emergency stairway collapsed. Being forced to climb two floors to finally reach the roof had taken its toll – the muscles in his shoulders were burning, his legs were numb.

I won't climb as much as a mole hill ever again for the rest of my life! He wiped the sweat from his forehead, and staggered back to his feet. He shoved the bag holding the sniper rifle back on his shoulder and walked to the other end of the roof.

"Mojo."

The turian was sitting on the ground, his back leaning against a ventilation shaft. Legs stretched, arms crossed, he stared past Arek into the distance.

"Not much of a climber, are you." Mojo's voice lacked its aloof snark, and while the greeting wasn't cordial, Arek found it easier to stomach than the usual 'fuck off' or 'get out of my sight, idiot'.

"Not my favorite pastime, true," he admitted, his mouth twitching as he wasn't sure if a smile was the right thing in this situation.

"Astonishing. For a species originating from apes."

Arek opened his mouth, ready to launch a retort, but then he decided to drop it.

"You know, you got a point. But hey, despite that, here I am." He opened his arms, tilted his head and allowed himself a light grin.

After asking my way like a tourist, being laughed at, and threatened to be skinned alive and being sold to a slaver if I don't stop snooping around when I searched in vain for the freaking elevator or stairs up here. Of course Mojo wasn't thrilled to see him, and a word of appreciation was the last thing he expected – or really wanted – from that guy, but... still.

"That you are." Mojo's head jerked up, and finally, he looked at the human. "You might as well go ahead and say whatever you have to say and be done with it."

"Uh, yeah, guess you're right." Stop staring, man! Arek ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head.

"Well," he began, bouncing on his toes. "I'm here to apologize. I'm sorry. People died because I was wrong, if I listened to you they'd still be alive."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, what else do you want? Me dropping on my knees in front of you?" He pushed his restless hands into the pockets of his pants, forcing his feet to stand still. How anybody could read anything from a turian's face was beyond him, and as he wasn't in the mood of facing Mojo's contempt he avoided looking at his eyes.

"No," Mojo snarled, baring his teeth. "Sure you aren't holding back another lecture? How everything's my fault, that I didn't save them when I could, that I'm to blame when nobody listens to me. That people died because nobody listens or trusts my word no matter how right I was." He broke off, taking a deep breath and releasing it with a sigh.

"Well, how do I put that..." Arek's foot scratched over the ground, rolling a small piece of scrap metal under his sole. If he thought back, he couldn't think of a day when pleasantries and polite words had worked with this guy. He might as well try the truth.

"You're an asshole, you suck at teamwork, and I'd rather prefer the company of a rabid varren than yours." He saw the turian's mandibles moving, but that could mean anything, from a smile to a warning, so he might as well ignore it.

"But... for a moment I took you for a blood thirsty killer. Somehow, I decided to think the worst of you, that you're capable of everything bad, because I don't like you. I mean, you're giving me enough reasons to dislike you but, well. A family is dead because I let my personal problems with you influence a professional decision. And I'm sorry for that. That's it. I guess." He took a step back, crossing his arms as well. Watching Mojo's face, hoping he might for once be able to decipher the turian's facial expressions, he waited for a reaction.

Air streaming from the vents created an illusion of a weak breeze. Arek's shirt clenched to his back, still slightly sweaty from the strenuous climb, and a chill crept down his spine. Standing still, he felt the pain in his shoulders, and a muscle in his left leg ached from a sudden cramp. Another minute of silence passed.

"I'm sorry they died, too," Mojo finally spoke, tilting his head back and staring at the sky. "Believe it or not, but I don't enjoy civilians die in front of my eyes either. Crooks, goons, people with military or any kind of training that should know better, fine by me. But children? Men or women who never held a weapon? I hate that."

"I see." Arek couldn't help but smiling, it was nice to hear Mojo sneer about something he actually agreed with. "I'm sorry I misjudged you."

"I misjudged you as well." The turian shrugged. Arek assumed that was the closest of a genuine apology he could expect; he guessed that this alone demanded some effort from Mojo, and he appreciated it.

"I thought fist thing you'd do when our paths cross is bathing in your triumph, enjoying every second you could rub in how I'm responsible for what happened."

"What?! You're kidding! I have my faults, but I'm not anything like that!" Suddenly, a new idea occurred Arek. He had made his own picture of Mojo, and it wasn't very pretty, colored with a decent amount of assumptions. He'd never taken in consideration that things went both ways, and that someone assumed things about him as the truth that were neither true nor pretty.

"I said I misjudged you," Mojo repeated after a pause.

"Same." After all, this was close to a normal conversation. Maybe...

"Not as much as you think, trust me on that." Mojo chuckle, and Arek caught an amused spark in the turian's green eyes. "I know I'm a jerk, and I have no intention of changing anything about that, if that's what you're hoping now. I know people like you don't understand it, but I am at ease with myself."

"Don't worry, I can't imagine you being anything else but a jerk." He saw no benefits of admitting that Mojo had been spot on – Arek had hoped against hope, for a short moment, that Mojo would finally become... what exactly? Normal? Agreeable? A considerate and friendly member of their squad? Well, that thought would have been amusing indeed, if the price others had to pay for them standing here like this hadn't been so high.

"But still, shit went down, and as a matter of fact you aren't happy with that."

"And we both have our share in this, I got that. I learned the same lesson. Whatever I think of you, and the other two, it was a mistake to let that interfere with my work. Don't get any ideas," he added when Arek smiled. "This is not the beginning of a wonderful friendship."

"Don't you worry, 'wonderful' isn't a word that comes to my mind when it's about you. Ah, almost forgot!" Arek rolled his eyes, let the bag slide from his shoulder and pulled out the rifle. "If I'm not mistaken this belongs to you." He thought he saw the plates above Mojo's eyes moving when he handed him the rifle, almost as though he raised his eyebrows in surprise – if he had eyebrows.

"Thank you." He turned the viper, stroking over the frame. Giving a nod, he lifted it, taking a look through the scope, and nodded again. "Praise the Spirits, everything's good. I'm sorry."

It was Arek's turn to look at him in surprise when Mojo gently apologised to a gun. Arek appreciated weapons as a helpful tool once in a while, he understood that a good gun could make the only difference between life and death for those who didn't rely on biotic skills. Of course a reliable weapon was a valued, respected companion for many soldiers, he had met others who claimed a good gun was the most faithful partner a soldier could have, that wasn't what surprised him.

It was the absurdity to see this guy, who either wasn't able to deal with others or didn't want to, treating an object with tender affection.

"Can I ask you something?" There had been something on his mind since his talk with the batarian, and now, as he was watching the turian with his Viper, it was burning on his tongue.

"Ask whatever you want."

But don't expect an answer if the question doesn't please the great Mojo, I get it. Tired of standing, Arek sat down, sighing with relief when the muscles in his legs relaxed.

"There's this engraving, from I.K. Marsh, you know, that batarian from the Omega Market, mentioned a guy named Kader. Mind me asking who he is?" He held his breath, expecting to be snarled at, that he should mind his own business and finally hit the road.

"A friend. Why?"

"Nothing!" He raised up his hands, defending himself from the suspicion the seemingly harmless question carried.

"Just curious." That, and nothing more.

"Curious if an asshole like me really has a friend who tinkered with his trusty weapon, right?"

"Well..." This... was a smirk, right? Sarcasm or not?

"Arek Turner, I don't tell you this because I need to prove anything to someone like you, or because I enjoy talking with you." Mojo put the rifle down on his lap, his hands resting on it as though he had resolved to protect it. He gazed at the weapon, his face moved slightly by what Arek now believed was a smile.

"Ibrahim Kader. A smart son of a bitch. Met him during an assignment here on Omega, a few years ago. We hated each other right from the start," he chuckled, one of his two long fingers tapping at the engraved letters.

"But turned out he was quite alright, for the arrogant human he was – is. Figured he had all the reasons to be full of himself. He knows how to wield a gun, has a gift for handling machines and computers, and of course, modifying weapons. He enforced the Viper's frame. Now she won't break when she has to use blunt force.

And no, I'm not going to tell you the story behind that. It's about him now, not me." He gave an impatient growl, and Arek closed his mouth before he had said anything. Mojo nodded, and continued,

"He's down to the point. Clear head, clear goals, no playing games. Can't disrespect a guy like that, and he respects that I'm a jerk and had no intention to change that. Once we sorted that out, it was the beginning of a wonderful friendship. Happy End."

"What's he doing now?" Arek dared to ask after a small pause.

"No idea. Next question." Mojo focused his attention on the Viper's thermal clip. He gave it a slap, and closer inspected it when the weapon ejected it.

"But if you're friends, why wouldn't you-"

"He also knew when to shut up and give a man a break." He put the clip back into its slot, listening to it clicking into its place.

"Okay, okay, I got it." Sensitive topic, eh? Damn, now I'm more curious about that guy than before. Not curious enough however to press the matter and to risk irritating the turian. This was the first time they actually talked, and compared to any previous exchange between them, this conversation was almost civil. The hostile tension between them was still there, but it had lost its aggressive edge.

"Thanks for telling me that much, I appreciate that." It almost makes you human... turian... you get the idea.

"Didn't do that for you, remember? Told you, Ibrahim has every reason to be proud of himself, and damn, he is some vain bastard. He loves it when others talk about him."

"Mojo, do not fear!" A wide grin on his face, Arek put his right hand on his heart, and held his left up with crossed fingers. "I swear, at no point I assumed that you wanted to enjoy a friendly chat with me."

"I knew I should have given your impressively sharp mind a bit more credit." There it was again, the usual sarcasm that Mojo liked to use when he didn't flatly call Arek an idiot or dumbass.

"Very funny." He pulled up the bag and fished for two beverage cans. "And here I thought I was smart when I assumed we could both need a drink after all that climbing. And after what happened. Catch!" He tossed one of the cans, and the turian caught it in the air.

"If it means so much to you, fine – that wasn't the worst idea you had today. Satisfied?" Mojo screwed the lid from the can and flipped it to the ground.

"Satisfied. Let's see this as the beginning of not fucking things up as much as before, is that good for you?"

"Good enough." Mojo took a generous gulp, and, to Arek's horror, broke into a violent cough attack. "Fuck, what is this?" he croaked, holding the can in a trembling hand.

"Beer, it's just... Fuck! FUCK!" Arek jumped to his feet, and leapt towards the turian, seizing him by his shoulders. "I forgot! Goddammit! Mojo! I'm sorry, God, I'm fucking sorry! Fuck!" Cold sweat covered his forehead when Mojo looked up at him through half-closed eyes, gasping for air.

"I didn't mean to... Fuck. I'm an idiot! Don't die on me, hear me? I gonna get help! Where's the next hospital?"

"Zeta district," Mojo whispered faintly, his eyes rolling up.

"Wait here, I'll get a doctor!"

"No time..." He grabbed Arek by his arms, his whole body shaking. "Arek... take me there, or..." He fell silent. His hands let go of Arek, and his head dropped on his chest.

"Hang in there, okay? I'll get you there, and when all's good again, you can punch me in front of the whole crew, and have a good laugh!" Fuck, fuck! How the hell do I get him down here... Dammit, Mojo, don't die now! He dragged him up by the wrist and shoved his shoulder under the turian's arm. "Damn, you're heavy..." He made a careful step, his knees shaking under his panic and Mojo's weight. How he should manage to climb down with Mojo as a load was beyond him, but he had to figure something out.

"Come on, man. That's no way to go out for a guy like you," he hissed through his teeth as he dragged him across the roof. His back ached with every step, and a protruding hip bone was stabbing his side. "I swear, I'll get you there in time, and if that's the last thing I'll ever – Mojo?!" He stopped in his track, holding his breath, listening. Mojo was – chuckling?

"Asshole! You goddamn asshole!" He pushed the turian away from him, clenching his fist when Mojo was shaking with laughter, holding his sides.

"That's not funny!" That was it, enough is enough! Who did this guy think he was? This wasn't a joking matter, he would have tried to carry him down this roof, probably broken every single bone in both their bodies. If he hadn't collapsed at the try to shove this heavy, tall jerk on his back... Just imagining what a pathetic sight he would have offered... No! This wasn't funny, and the dark space would freeze over before he allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch!

"Yes! It is!" the turian was roaring as he walked back to his spot and sat down again.

"You really got me worried! I thought you were dying!" Arek followed him, but remained standing, glowering above Mojo.

"I got that, and I'm really okay with that." Chuckling, he wiped a tear from his eye. "Better having you worried than trying to poison me."

"I'd never do something like that! I... I just..." Arek sighed when he picked up his still unopened beer. "Thought it was a good idea, and was so proud of my noble gesture that I forgot about that whole dextro-levo thing." Defeated, he slumped to the ground, ignoring his aching body. He tore the lid from his can, and gushed its contend down in one go.

"Too bad though, it's a good brand." Arek put the empty can down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "But you are okay, are you? I mean, even if it doesn't kill you, if you need a doc after all, I'll go and drag one up here."

"Not every mix-up means instant death, or getting sick. Most of the time it does less than nothing, might as well eat paper. Ugly reactions can happen, but they're more rare, and depend on the individual, circumstances and substance, kinda unpredictable. Often and predictable enough, however-" He picked up the open can and shoved it towards Arek.

"Levo tastes disgusting. To me, your delicious human beer tastes like rotten fish with too much sugar, liquefied."

"Sounds horrible. I'm sorry," Arek repeated, feeling flat out exhausted. If he had been responsible for another death... He took the second beer and let it follow the fate of the first.

"But sorry or not, your prank was still cruel."

"Spur of the moment. You really wanted to try getting me off the roof somehow." He snickered again, pointing at Arek. "You. Who can hardly climb a drain."

"Yeah, yeah, just keep rubbing it in." He pulled a face, shaking his fist in a lukewarm attempt to threaten the turian if he dared to speak on. "What's it with you and roofs anyway? You seem obsessed with them."

"I appreciate the view."

"The view?! Are you kidding me?" He nodded at the darkness behind Mojo. "That's even more boring to look at than you."

"That's why I sit here, smartass. Turn around."

"If you insist." He wasn't thrilled about standing up and turning his back to the turian, but he might as well humor him while Mojo was in this docile mood.

"Oh!" The market place that had impressed him when they were chasing after the coordinates was a small warm patch to his distant right. The tower of the Afterlife pierced into the sky like a thin, glowing needle. In front of him, a grey and black ocean of buildings stretched. Illuminated windows and lamps were scattered over it like a swarm of fireflies, but what caught Arek's awe was the horizon. A far away dawn ended the dusk as the lights of the dock beckoned a spaceship closer. Losing its momentum, the frigate was slowly sinking, as though it was in a trance, following the path like a moth was drawn to the flame of a candle.

Shuttles were shooting through the air, making him think of a flock of flushed birds escaping from a bird of prey.

The frigate was becoming slower to the point it seemed it didn't move at all, yet it did. He was too far away, and the noises of Omega were droning between him and the docks. So he was watching the silent spectacle, thinking of what lay behind and above – the darkness of space. An endless universe that was also moving and changing slowly, too slowly to grasp, yet it never halted. So many worlds within worlds within worlds...

By the time the spaceship had come to a hold a calm had fallen over him. If he could, he'd cling to this moment of peace, and keep on watching forever.

"Be careful, or it hypnotizes you."

"No... I..." A push against his shoulder knocked him off his balance. Arek staggered forward, finding himself back in reality the second his gaze was torn away from the docks. His back was still hurting, he was tired, and cold. He sighed. He was about to turn around to talk to Mojo, when realized that the turian was standing next to him, staring into the distance.

So this Kader and Mojo used to be up here, during their leisure time, and watched the horizon? The same Mojo who rather bit off his tongue than saying a friendly word to him enjoyed this sight, in the company of another human. Who was his friend, and partner – in which regard exactly?

Not that I care for your company, buddy, but when you do have friends, and like being around them, then... Their animosity had its amusing sides, as well as it was frustrating in its unfairness. He had firmly believed that the turian's dislike for him stemmed from one single reason – Mojo was a disagreeable asshole who hated everyone, and who was hated by he was forced to let go of that idea, and all it left was a stale frustration, along with an unpleasant realization.

What the fuck is so wrong about me? What did I do? And if I asked now, would I really want to hear an honest answer? He picked up his bag and shoved it back on his shoulder. It was time they returned, before Amalthea and the others worried. Then he looked at the docks for a last time.

"I start to get the appeal. Omega has its magical sides."

"Magical! Yeah!" Mojo sneered, turning himself away from the sight with an abrupt, dismissive wave of his hand.

"A cesspool of rotten morals and corruption, that's what it is. Can't wait to get off of this cursed rock." He shoved the Viper in its holster on his back, and started his way across the roof, Arek trotting beside him.

"Way to talk for someone coming from Omega." A smirk on his face, he looked up at the turian, but withstood the urge to give him a playful nudge.

Too soon. A look at Mojo's face along with the disgusted growl also hinted more at a serious punch in his guts in return of a teasing gesture. If not a punch, then at least a stomp on the tentative truce that had just begun to grow.

"I'm not from Omega, I lived on Omega, for a few years."

"Oh? Then where are you from?" Arek frowned, thinking quickly. "Palaven?"

"Forget it, Turner."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, what happened doesn't mean we're friends, got it." His knowledge about turian society didn't reach further than that they were strong at colonisation, but there it ended. He might as well drop the topic when he didn't know any colonies by name anyway. Now that he was thinking about it, what he knew about turians – and most other species for that matter – in general wasn't impressive. After all, two of his squad mates were turian, and even Mojo seemed to know more about humanity than he, Arek, was knowing about Meyrani and Mojo's origins and their worlds.

"Good. And you're following me, why?"

They had reached the end of the roof. Arek looked down, and flinched. This was like staring into an abyss, what had he been thinking when he believed he could get down here, in panic, with an unconscious turian in tow?

"Uh, because we have to go back to the docks, so a shuttle can pick us up and bring us back to the Hamburg? Wait!" He took a step back, and activated his omni-tool. "I'll contact Thea, that we're done here. What's wrong?" He caught the turian staring at him, the green eyes wide with surprise.

"Nothing. I just didn't expect that I still belong to the team. After what happened." Mojo shrugged, tilted his head away, scratching his throat.

"You're an idiot. Thea, you hear me?" Arek grinned when the asari bellowed at him, demanding to know what took him so long.