The encounter of the ardat-yakshi monastery had put Shepard into a bad mood. Her hatred toward the Reapers had only increased after what she saw what Rila and all the other asari had gone through.

"I admire their strategy." Garrus said, pouring Shepard and himself a drink at the bar. "Whenever those bastards turn one of our own against us, we lose two soldiers: the one that they indoctrinate, and the one that can't pull the trigger."

She took the drink harshly away from his hand and tipped it back in one gulp, liking the burning sensation it made down into her stomach. "How can you even say that? They aren't even worth admiring over."

He shrugged, and knocked back his own special turian brandy. "War is war, no matter how sinister or evil it can be. And sometimes, you have to learn from the other team."

"You make it sound like it's a game."

Garrus laughed, his scars prominent on the right side of his face. "The ultimate strategy game, where the wrong decisions can cost you thousands, hell, maybe millions." He poured another round and then lifted his glass in a toast. "For those damn fine soldiers out there holding the line long enough for us to sort out all the democratic bullshit."

Shepard clinked her glass against his. "For Admiral Anderson and all the brave souls back on Earth. For Palaven and all the tough-son-of-a-bitch turians who are putting up a hell of a fight."

They took down the alcohol together in silence. Garrus watched her as she sat down clumsily in a leather chair. "Well said, Shepard. You know, without you, we'd all been dead years back when Saren and Sovereign took over the Citadel."

She snorted once. "Yeah, and the good karma I get is being spaced by a Collector ship. That was some scary shit."

"I can't even imagine." He chuckled, "And to think I had it rough on Omega taking out all those criminals."

"I'm just glad you're here, Garrus." She said quietly, looking down at her empty glass. "I couldn't imagine going through this without you."

He knelt next to her chair, replaced the glass with his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm here for you, Shepard. I always will be. I-,"

She watched him turn his head away from her. "Tell me Garrus."

"I know it's been hard for you since Thane past away. I don't want to rush in on you so quickly. You need time to heal, and I'd feel like a jerk if-,"

"Shh," she leaned to softly kiss him on the scar-ridden side of his face. "You - you are exactly what -hic- I need right now."

Garrus watched as she swayed in the seat with a mixture of scrutiny and amusement. "Is that the alcohol or Shepard speaking?"

"Both?"

"I think you need some rest, Commander," he said, helping her out of the seat. "You're going to have a helluva hangover tomorrow."

She stumbled over the foot rest and nearly fell if it wasn't for Garrus catching her around the waist. "Thanks, -hic- I nearly ate it on my face."

"Maybe I should help you up to your cabin," Garrus said with humor as he easily lifted her up with his arms and walked to the elevator.

"Was that liquor -hic- laced?" She asked stupidly, stroking his shoulder plating coyly. "Should have known you only wanted to take -hic- advantage of me."

That surely ruffled his feathers; if turians could blush, Shepard swore he would have at this moment. "Looks like the great Commander Shepard can't hold her liquor anymore."

"I blame that turian bartender on the Citadel."

His whole body shook with laughter, causing him to rattle her in his arms. "Oh, I remember that night. Had to hold back your hair as you puked your brains out in the toilet."

"Yeah, yeah, keep talking Vakarian. Don't think I -hic- got some dirt on you too."

"I don't doubt it."

They reached her cabin and he gently laid her on the bed. When he turned to leave, Shepard grabbed his hand to stop him. "Won't you stay here tonight with me?"

He turned to her and half-smiled. "Ask me that later when you aren't influenced by the brandy."

She had already fallen asleep when Garrus turned off the lights and left back down the elevator.

Thane was impressed by the amount of willpower these dock workers had. They had gone through waves upon waves of Cerberus troops without a single scratch on them. He guessed it was the amount of weaponry they had available in the cargo, that and discovering that this body had biotic abilities, and could make a strong barrier against any counter-attacks by Cerberus.

Just as they took down the last Centurion, Thane's omni-tool lit up. "Goddamn all of you! If I have to take down those shit-ass workers, then so be it!"

All the workers looked upon Thane, fright apparent in their eyes. He chose carefully the words he was about to speak. "We've made it through this far, if we can get through the Commander, then that leaves only evacuating citizens on to shuttles. Fight for your families, fight for the innocent women and children, whose lives are at risk if we don't stop Cerberus now."

Not a moment after he finished his speech, smoke grenades blocked visibility to the security check-in point. Somebody yelled "Atlas!" followed by a rocket fired from the smoke into their barricade of metal containers. Thane witnessed lifeless bodies thrown into the air from impact. "No," he whispered.

"This ends now!" The Commander screeched through the Atlas' intercom, and volleyed rounds of bullets. He put up another barrier to protect the workers from getting hit, then threw an array of warps at the Atlas, breaking through its shields.

"Punch through that cockpit to expose him!" Thane yelled, taking up his Viper and shooting multiple fires at the hull of the Atlas.

"ENOUGH!" The Commander bellowed, and used the powerful arm to hurtle a shuttle toward a group of workers. They all died instantly.

Consumed with rage, Thane detonated a half a dozen sticky grenades and threw them onto the armoring of the Atlas, watching them all explode, eventually causing the Atlas itself to fall apart into flames.

Thane leaped over the barricade, his pistol reloaded and ready. The Commander had jumped out in time before being consumed by the fire.

He looked up at him, face covered in a helmet, but Thane could see his indoctrinated eyes, and felt sorry for him. It wasn't his choice to become a slave.

"Well, aren't you going to do it?" He spat violently. "Shoot me, you coward!"

Shaking his head, he lowered his weapon. "No."

There was outcry from behind the barricades. Thane knew they wouldn't agree with this.

The Commander chuckled, and quickly pulled out an electric baton; but just before he could hit Thane, he ducked smoothly out of the way, kicked the baton out of his hand, and threw down his pistol hard on his shoulder blade, making a sickening crack.

Yelling out in agony on the floor, the Commander held his broken shoulder. "Bind him," Thane told one of the workers. "Take him into custody. Omega should be easy to take back and defend with him out of the way."

John, the worker that he first met, came up to him after a pair of workers and taken the yelling Commander away. "Thank you, so much. Without you we would have never been able to stand against them. You know, if you need a ride off Omega, I can coordinate a shuttle with my family and a few other workers families. We could get you to the Citadel safely."

This time, Thane placed a hand on John's shoulder. "That would be most appreciated. Get as many civilians off Omega as you can. It still isn't safe here."

"Of course, I'll get them ready for departure."

After a group of refugees entered onto the shuttle, John helped a very pregnant woman onto the cruiser. "We're the last ones," He told Thane, and he shut the shuttle door.

John carefully sat her down and held her hand tightly as the shuttle exited the docking bay. "Thane, this is my wife, Nicole."

Nicole looked up at Thane with a smile that warmed his heart. "I can never thank you enough for saving all the refugees here on Omega. If you hadn't of helped us. . ."

John patted her hand. "We're safe now, and that's all that matters."

She rubbed her swollen belly and then looked upon her husband with a love so deep, Thane felt the need to look away. It was something to be shared only between them. "Honey, I want to name the baby after him, if it's a boy. If it's a girl . . ."

"When my wife and I were picking out names for our unborn child, I always liked the name Sihaya for a girl." Thane said quietly. "It meant 'desert spring' in a dead dialect. But you can choose whichever name you like."

"No, no," Nicole said. "I think it's unique and beautiful. A desert spring symbolically is hope, if you are trapped in the desert. And that was exactly what we needed." Her big, brown eyes bored into his. "You gave us that hope."

Now, Thane knew exactly why he had stayed behind and helped, and knew why he was returned to the living. He had a purpose again, one that did not involve making assassinations.

It was something bigger than him, a larger picture made of tiny, miniscule pictures. The unknown entity had given him life at this exact point in this moment of time knowing he would make use of it.

As the shuttle entered the mass relay, he had a positive outlook on the future ahead. Hope, was a funny thing. It comes to those in the darkest time that needed it most. Surely, it had come to Thane when he did.