Disclaimer: Mass Effect is copyright of Bioware. Many of the characters contained herein—Shepard included—are property of Bioware. Shepard is partially of my forging, since I am able to choose many of his reactions to events within the parameters of the game. The sequence of events and their outcomes are property of Bioware. The interpretations of and reactions to the events are largely my own. Ci-Ci is mine. Please do not repost this story or any parts of it herein. Always give credit where it is due. I owe the Mass Effect Wiki a great deal for helping me figure out timelines, details, and other such things that I did not pick up during the game.

I welcome constructive and/or encouraging reviews/critiques. Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

1 May 2185—Afterlife Club, Omega, Sahrabarik System, Omega Nebula

Shepard's murderous eyes roved the club, making people back out of his way. Jacob and Miranda exchanged uneasy looks. They had both known that Shepard would be cold and on-task, but this… This wasn't what they'd expected. Miranda wondered if she had gotten something wrong in rebuilding him or if she had miscalculated something. No, she couldn't have. Shepard wasn't an emotional man. His dabbles with Commander Corinthia-Imreas had been a past-time and hadn't lasted long enough to become anything serious. He was a man who used whatever assets he had to their full extent before disposing of them, hence why Corinthia was his only friend. She hadn't outlived her uses when she served with Shepard, nor had she at her death, but Miranda could easily replace her on all levels.

Her eyes swept over Shepard. She was proud of the outcome of her labors. Unbeknownst to him, she'd even improved him by making him stronger, faster, taller, leaner, bigger… She wondered if he'd notice. So far, he hadn't shown an ounce of appreciating for all the work she'd put into him. He seemed fixated on that Corinthia woman, who had done nothing but giggle and be a slightly talented hacker to gain his attention.

Miranda had her orders: Keep Shepard in line. This mission was a test. If he screwed it up, Miranda was going to have to take action. If she was lucky, Shepard wouldn't fight. Much.

"Commander, we should go speak to Aria," Miranda said. "She's the ruler of Omega. She'll know about Archangel and the Doctor."

He half-turned his head to look at Miranda out of the corner of his eye. He'd clearly heard her, but wasn't going to grace her with an answer. His hand rested on the butt of his pistol as he stalked towards Aria's loft. The guard opened his mouth to ask something, only to get a gun barrel wedged between his teeth as Shepard shoved him into the wall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a batarian demanded, surging forward, assault rifle drawn.

"I want to talk to Aria," Shepard growled, glaring at the batarian.

"Put your weapons away."

"No."

"I said—"

Shepard's biotics flared dangerously and he put his finger on the trigger of the pistol wedged between the first guard's teeth. "Do you want to be next?"

"Let him up," a cold female voice ordered. Shepard shoved the guard away and slowly came up the stairs, staring down the batarian.

Aria T'Loak sat on a large sofa, legs crossed and arms splayed on the sofa back. She had dark purple skin, black facial tattoos, and dark eyes that made her look as dangerous as her reputation claimed. She looked Shepard up and down before jerking her chin a little. The batarin stepped forward, omni-tool out. Shepard put his gun against the alien's forehead. "Fuck off."

"I have to be cautious," Aria said casually. "You wouldn't be the first man to come through here claiming to be Shepard."

Shepard lowered his gun, but didn't holster it. The batarian scanned him. "It's him."

Aria jerked her head, indicating that Shepard should sit. He did, leaning back with all appearances of being relaxed with his pistol in his lap, but in actuality he was ready to strike.

"I know why you're here," Aria continued. "Archangel is a menace and the Doctor is insane."

Shepard didn't answer.

She rolled her head around to look at him. From anyone else, it might have been a cute or seductive move, but from Aria, it was like a cobra waving its head before striking. "You aren't going to cause trouble on my planet."

Shepard narrowed his eyes. "Don't count on it."

She smirked and then laughed. "I thought you might say that, so here's a little piece of advice: I am the Queen of Omega." She stood, facing Afterlife and spreading her arms wide. "I own this place and, here, there's only one rule: Don't. Fuck. With. Aria."

She turned and sat next to him, leaning in closer than he liked. He put his finger on the trigger.

"I hear that you have a similar rule," she murmured.

"Move any closer and you'll find out," he growled.

Aria shifted her weight away from him. "That's what I like to hear." She snapped her fingers. The batarian came over with a datapad and put it in her hand. "The mercenary groups here have gotten together to hunt Archangel. He must really be crawling up their asses to make them work together like this. I think they're recruiting in here, somewhere. Your doctor is in the slums. He runs a clinic there. Another plague's broken out, so it's under quarantine. Show them this and they'll let you through." She casually held the datapad out to Shepard. He took it and read the information for himself. "Satisfied?"

He nodded and stood. "Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe I'll be here," she answered, watching him leave. He wasn't what she'd expected. She'd expected him to be acting like some kind of hero, not like a ruthless killer. Either way, she liked him. He was hard, knew what he wanted, and knew who to respect—namely herself. "Keep an eye on him," she ordered the batarian.

The guard nodded, not looking forward to the job. Shepard would have killed everyone in that bar if it would mean getting his way. He was dangerous... A liability, and Aria was just letting him walk out of there.

Miranda was almost insulted at the exchange. "What the hell were you thinking, Shepard?" she demanded. "We can't afford to make enemies with everyone we meet!"

He rounded on her, hand sliding around her throat and shoving her into the wall. "I'm here to get the help I need to annihilate the Collectors," he hissed. "I'll do this however the fuck I want. Don't think because you swayed your hips and did some science experiments that I won't kill you if you cross me, because the second you outlive your use, I will."

Miranda returned his cold stare, but her heart was racing. She hoped that he couldn't feel her pulse. He gave her a final shove before turning away, satisfied that he'd made his point. Jacob touched Miranda's arm, concerned. She waved him off, glaring at Shepard. She had never questioned the Illusive Man before, nor was she about to start, but she was starting to think it unwise to have returned Shepard to life.

Jacob read her thoughts. He was tough and had faced down plenty of scary things in his lifetime, but Shepard was on a completely different level, as much a danger to his allies as his enemies.

Shepard glanced around the bar before spotting the recruiting station. A Blue Suns mercenary stood in a private room, a computer console before him, putting down the names of anyone that came in with a gun. Shepard approached him, stopping a few feet away and crossing his arms.

The Blue Sun looked the Commander up and down. "You here to sign up?"

Shepard nodded coldly.

"You got a working weapon?"

Shepard put his palm on his pistol.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Does it matter?" Shepard growled.

The mercenary shuddered. "Pay's fifty credits a day. There's a shuttle outside the bar and to the right. You'll see it."

Shepard turned to leave, running directly into a scrawny teenager holding a piece of junk that someone was idiotic enough to call a gun. Shepard grabbed it and deftly took it apart. The kid's eyes widened in anger. "Hey! I paid a hundred credits for that!"

"Fuck off, kid," Shepard barked, shoving him out the door. "Get a job that won't turn you into gun fodder."

Miranda couldn't believe it. After how cold Shepard had acted, he was going out of his way to stop someone from doing something stupid? Had she, again, missed something?

Shepard was half-way out of Afterlife before she realized that he was still moving. She ran to catch up with him. "I don't understand," she started. "Why—"

Jacob interrupted, saying, "Just don't ask, Miranda. I don't think it's going to help."

"Watch him carefully."

"I don't even trust our boss, Miranda. Why would I trust him?"

Miranda's eyes examined Shepard's back (and ass). "There's nothing we can do about it now."

"Yes there is."

Miranda shook her head. "No."

"You can at least offer."

"It won't secure his loyalty."

"Shut up," Shepard hissed. "You can talk on your own time. Let's find Archangel, pick up the Doctor, and get out of this rock."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Miranda answered, smiling a little. "Every time I come here I feel like I need to take a shower, despite decontam." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "Let's hope that Archangel is worth it."

6 hours later…

Garrus took a deep breath and released it slowly. He'd been in a foxhole for two days. The Eclipse, Blue Suns, and Blood Pack were closing in on his position. He would last maybe another day, if he was lucky. He was fortified, having jammed the basement doors and forced the mercenaries to approach him across a narrow bridge, and had the high ground, but they were up to something. They'd stopped throwing people at him.

He needed to sleep. He'd been on longer missions, but even on those he had a chance to relax. He'd also had good people beside him-like Ci-Ci, Shepard and Wrex-to keep him company and keep him laughing. It served him right for getting himself cornered, but he hadn't had a choice. This wasn't about justice anymore; this was revenge. He'd seen ten men killed because of one bastard's betrayal and he was going to avenge every last one of them.

There was movement on the far end of the bridge. Archangel cracked his neck, hunkered down, and looked through his sniper scope. His heart almost stopped beating. It was the Commander. Shepard. He was alive and walking across the bridge, assault rifle in his arms and not looking at all threatened by the situation.

Garrus thought quickly and loaded a concussive round. He couldn't give Shepard away. He fired once, hitting the Commander's shoulder. Shepard staggered a little, eyes locking on the mercenaries in front of him. Garrus grinned evilly as Shepard let loose, biotics flaring and throwing mercenaries left and right, assault rifle cutting down anything else left breathing. As soon as Shepard was inside the building, Garrus switched his rounds to incinerate and fired at anyone still moving.

Shepard entered the room, pistol out and pointed at Garrus. The turian held up a hand and took a final shot. He stood, gratefully stretching, and rested his back against the wall. He leaned his sniper rifle against his leg and pulled off his helmet. "Shepard."

Shepard smirked and holstered his weapon. "Garrus. I should've known it was you." He stepped forward and embraced the turian. "Who put you up to this?"

"I know what you're thinking, but Ci-Ci had nothing to do with this. It was all me." Garrus smiled painfully. "I'm sorry," he added. "Nothing can replace her."

Shepard nodded coldly, quickly dismissing all thoughts of her. "What's done is done. What the hell happened to get you here?"

"I killed a few mercenaries." Garrus shrugged. "And I might've killed their second in commands or cousins or something like that. It's only fair. They killed my team."

Shepard picked up Garrus's sniper rifle and examined the bridge. "You pissed them off something fierce. I had to sabotage half of their equipment to make sure you'd survive."

"Why are you even here, Shepard?"

"To recruit you."

"Again?"

Shepard nodded, kneeling to better aim the rifle. "Want me to explain now or after?"

"Doesn't matter. If you help me out of this, I'll help you."

Shepard took his shot, blowing off the head of a salarian Eclipse mercenary. "Oops."

Garrus chuckled. "I thought you might do that."

"He was getting close… ish."

"What's your plan?"

"Kill everything that moves. Blow up everything that's left."

Garrus shook his head. "You do realize this plan has me walking into Hell, too, right?" He smiled. "Just like old times."

Something flashed across Shepard's face. Garrus couldn't quite place it. "Not quite," Shepard murmured. He took out his shotgun.

"Commander, the doors," Miranda interrupted.

Shepard nodded. "The mercenaries have been tunneling to get through the doors you blocked."

"I thought they were too quiet," Garrus mused. He sighed. "I knew it wouldn't last for long. Same plan?"

"Not quite. Jacob, stay here with Garrus and cover him. Miranda and I will take care of the newcomers."

"Whatever you say, Commander." Garrus watched as Shepard and Miranda left.

Jacob took his place by the door. "Is he always like that?"

"That depends," Garrus mused, readying his rifle. He looked through the scope.

"Depends on what?"

"If he'd gotten to kiss Ci-Ci or not."

Jacob laughed. "You're kidding me… Right?"

"I wish I was."

"Shame we tried to kill her."

"We?"

"Cerberus."

Garrus stiffened. "You're Cerberus?"

"Yeah… Sorry."

"I hope Shepard knows what he's doing."

"Me, too," Jacob murmured. "He isn't what I thought he'd be."

"Is anyone ever?" Garrus answered. "But I've never seen him this bad." He stiffened. "Right, they're coming. Get ready."

3 May 2183—SSV Normandy SR-2, Omega

Garrus woke in a bright, white room. For a moment, he wondered if the human stories were right about the afterlife, but then someone spoke that he didn't expect.

"Well, Garrus, you live to fight another day."

"Dr. Chakwas?" he breathed.

The old, English doctor smiled, leaning over him. "Shepard brought you back to the ship. You took quite the hit."

Garrus gingerly touched his temple. He'd been shot in the head, like Corinthia had on Eden Prime (or, at least, he imagined it was from how she explained the scar). "And you brought me back."

"You were never lost."

"So… Shepard's with Cerberus."

"We all are."

"We?"

"Jeff's here, too."

Garrus winced. "Shepard can't be too happy about that."

"I honestly can't tell. The Commander's been acting..."

"I know." Garrus sat up painfully. "Can I see myself?"

Dr. Chakwas hesitated before saying, "It isn't healed yet, Garrus, but we'll keep an eye on it. Commander Shepard wanted to see you. He's in the conference room."

Garrus groaned as he got to his feet. He was a little disoriented, but none the worse for wear. The new Normandy was ten times as nice as the old one, looking more like a civilian ship than anything military issued. Everything was brightly lit and clean, accented in black and yellow to match the Cerberus insignia (a golden hexagon, broken at the bottom, resting in two conforming arms). Garrus shuddered, remembering vividly the missions where Shepard and Corinthia had hunted down the xenophobic bastards. What the hell had made Shepard think that he could just go and join up with them?

The turian entered the conference room. A large, hexagonal, wood table rested in the middle, a holo projector in the center showing a readout of the Normandy. Shepard leaned against the wall, arms crossed and looking mutinous while Miranda explained the ramifications of his actions.

Shepard looked up, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" Garrus asked. "Is it that bad?"

"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. I don't think the ladies are going to notice."

"I hear that krogan and human women like scars, or maybe that was just Ci-Ci." Garrus realized he'd touched a nerve a moment too late. Shepard straightened, fist clenched. "I don't like that you're working with Cerberus, Shepard, but I'll do it. For you. Want to tell me what you're up to?"

Shepard looked at Miranda. She nodded, stepping forward and opening her omni-tool. "Our mission is to stop the Collectors. They've been abducting entire colonies of humans. Shepard is helping us hunt them down."

Garrus exchanged looks with the Commander. Garrus knew the glint in Shepard's eye only too well: Revenge and, considering its intensity, it was for Corinthia. Though Garrus had never heard the exact means of her death, he knew what had happened now.

"They're in trouble, then," Garrus mused. "I know what happens to Shepard when he's out for blood."

Shepard stormed out of the room. Garrus followed. "Shepard. Shepard!"

The Commander stopped with a foot half in the elevator. "What?"

Garrus realized that he had no idea what to say. "If you…" He stopped. "Damn, it, Shepard, you know what I mean. I lost my entire squad to those mercenary bastards because someone betrayed me. I want his blood, too."

Shepard put his hand on Garrus shoulder, squeezing slightly. Even if Garrus wouldn't be able to give any kind of emotional consolation, at least the turian understood the lengths that Shepard was going to go.

"It'll happen, Garrus," Shepard finally said. "I can guarantee it."

Garrus grinned. This was going to be fun.