A/N: Thanks to LeroyZanzibar for betaing!

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is copyright of Bioware. Ci-Ci is mine.

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7 September 2185 — Cargo Bay, SSV Normandy, orbiting Zorya, Faia System, Ismar Frontier

Zaeed cracked his neck and checked his assault rifle. He had everything planned. Assuming Shepard didn't fuck it up, everything would be perfect.

Shepard came into the loading area, already in his armor. Rufus/Urz was plodding alongside him, tongue hanging out happily. Thankfully, the Commander looked ready for action, not like he'd just been coddling his woman.

Shepard threw Zaeed a belt of grenades. "You might need these."

"So we can take them because Ci-Ci's not coming?" Zaeed asked. "About bloody time."

At the mercenary's request, Corinthia was staying behind. She would compromise Zaeed's idea of the mission.

Shepard put his equipment into the Kodiak. Jack was already inside, lurking in the shadows. "Are you guys going to stand there holding your dicks or are we going to get moving?" Jack demanded irately.

Shepard shook his head and climbed inside, Zaeed directly behind him. "You ready for this, girl?" Zaeed asked.

"I've seen shit that'll make what's left of your hair curl."

"I could say the same to you. Haven't you heard me telling stories?"

"To anyone that'll fucking listen," Jack muttered. "That's only Ci-Ci because she's the only one that talks to anyone."

Shepard shook his head. "She'd bite my head off if I paid anyone more attention than her."

"I haven't seen you without her in a month."

"And that's a problem why?"

Jack snorted. "You're fucking whipped, Shepard."

"Glad to fucking know it," he answered, pounding on the pilot's door. The Kodiak took off, pulled out of the Normandy, and headed to the surface of Zorya.

"So why the hell am I doing this?" Shepard demanded.

"Because it's part of my contract with these Cerberus bastards," Zaeed answered.

"No fucking shit," Jack put in.

"I'd like a better one," Shepard continued, ignoring her interruption.

Zaeed lit a cigar and took a long drag. "Did you know I founded the Blue Suns?" he growled.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "You mean one of the sets of bastards that keep trying to kill me?"

"You're worth a lot of money, Shepard. If I weren't being paid more to help you, I might hunt you down myself."

"I'll tell Cerberus to give you a raise."

Zaeed laughed. "You know, Shepard, I like you, even though I shouldn't. It's why I'm asking for you help. My ex-partner, Vido Santiago, is on this planet. I'm going to kill him."

"Isn't he the head of the Blue Suns?"

Zaeed gestured to the vicious scars on his face. "Yeah. The bastard betrayed me. Muscled me out and shot me in the head. Time for some payback."

Shepard's eyes flickered darkly. "Sounds like my kind of party."

Jack smirked. "Fucking right it is."

Shepard leaned back, readying for the fight. The Blue Suns weren't particularly formidable — then again, not much was in comparison to Shepard — but that wasn't what was setting Shepard on edge. He understood completely where Zaeed was coming from; after all, Shepard had nearly ruined their mission to avenge Corinthia. He'd done it before when he'd gone after Cerberus for her, aboard the first Normandy and when they were close friends before. He was not the sort of person to let people get away with bad deeds, especially to anyone he considered close.

But it wasn't Corinthia who was getting to him. The fact was that Zaeed was talking exactly like Shepard's closest friend in the Reds, Steven Matheson, had done. Shepard hadn't thought about Stevie in years, not since he'd decided to join the Alliance, but now that his name was in Shepard's head, the Commander had a bad feeling that this mission was not going to go as planned.

31 October 2170 — Los Angeles, United North American States, Earth, Sol System

Shepard fingered he tattoo on his neck. It would still sting for a few days more, but the effect was what he'd wanted: he was really part of the Reds. He'd been tagged and there was no going back. He couldn't wait to show off the large, black 'X' to his peers. They'd be so fucking jealous...

Stevie put down the tattoo machine and slapped Shepard on the shoulder. "You aren't going to regret this, Johnny."

Stevie Matheson was Shepard's role model, so of course Shepard was going to do whatever Stevie asked. Stevie didn't look at all like a thug. As a matter of fact, he looked extremely respectable. He wore suits, kept his blonde hair stylishly cropped and spiked, and had one of the most seductive smiles in the galaxy. Shepard was too young to be able to dress like Stevie, but Shepard at least tried to look as little like a gang member as possible.

They were sitting in Stevie's apartment. Being second in command of the Reds, he was more than rich. The walls were covered in fine art. The windows overlooked the breathtaking skyline, making the room seem to float over the entire sprawling metropolis. It was anything but the slummy, dirty streets Shepard had grown up in, or even what his own room was like.

Shepard smoothed his hair down over his forehead. It was long enough to conceal his eyes, but he wasn't ready to cut it just yet. "I never have, Stevie," Shepard said lowly. Even for a sixteen-year-old, Shepard's voice was cold, low, and dangerous. He didn't look much older than he was (after all, age is hard to determine amongst teenagers), but he held himself like a cynical, jaded young man with nothing but ambition in his heart. One day, he was going to be Stevie. He was going to take Stevie's place within the Reds. Shepard would rule the Western Coast.

Stevie got this his feet, rolling down his sleeves and re-buttoning the cuffs. "You know what this means, don't you, Johnny?"

Shepard didn't answer. He knew exactly what it meant: He was a permanent member of the Reds, and therefore in line for leadership. He wasn't the youngest to be tagged, but he was going to be the one to rise through the ranks fastest. So, yeah, he'd taken Stevie's tag instead of the Red's main one (which was a red 'X' instead of a black one), but it was what Shepard had to do to prove himself.

Within a year, Stevie would be in charge of the Reds. It was just a matter of time. Their boss, Kovic, was prejudiced, weak, and little better than a thug. Stevie actually thought about the Reds like a business. He invested instead of simply taking. He understood that he had to spend money to make money. He didn't even partake in Red Sand like the other gang members.

Red Sand was designed to enhance biotic abilities, or even give them to those that didn't have them in the first place. It was in increasing demand on Earth. Stevie didn't need to want biotic abiltiies because he already had a powerful one on his side: Shepard. In 2168, he received secondary exposure to Element Zero and the abilities manifested. Stevie, being older and not fourteen, helped Shepard learn to control the abilities. Shepard wasn't an expert at using his skills, but he would be before much longer and there was no telling what his potential would be. Stevie had every intention to find out.

Though Shepard idolized Stevie, the teenager was nothing better than an asset to Matheson. Stevie could see already that Shepard was going to be great. He had this way of making people do what he wanted when he wanted. In all honesty, Stevie was a little intimidated by Shepard. Though cold, calculating, and cynical, Shepard had the ability to overcome any situation. Though he'd already won a few scars, he had yet to be in any serious scrapes. He enjoyed working alone, though Stevie didn't know why. It was as if Shepard wasn't willing to put anyone on the line.

Stevie would break Shepard of that. The kid needed to know how to use people before he would ever become great. He needed to be ruthless if he wanted to get anywhere in the galaxy.

"You work for me, now," Stevie said, smiling. "You aren't going to regret it."

Shepard grinned. "I don't."

"Good, because we have one hell of a celebration in front of us. Ladies!"

Two stunningly beautiful women, probably in their early twenties, stepped out of Stevie's bedroom. They weren't wearing enough to even be considered clothed. Shepard blinked and gaped.

Stevie clapped Shepard on the back. "Trust me, kid, you haven't seen anything yet. That one's Candy and that one's... uh... Well, I think her name's Candy, too. Show Johnny a good time, will you? Kid hasn't been with a woman before." Stevie headed to the door.

Shepard shifted in his seat. "Where are you going?"

"Out." Stevie winked and pulled on his jacket. "You'll be fine, Johnny. These girls know what they're doing and I know you're going to like it."

The Present — Zorya

Shepard stopped short of the entrance to the refinery. The door was unlocked. So far, there had been a pathetic resistance put up the Blue Suns, with Santiago shouting death threats to everyone that retreated. Shepard didn't envy their predicament; Death stood in either direction.

Zaeed put some extra bullets into a dead Sun for good measure. Jack crossed her arms and tapped a foot impatiently. "Come on, old man. Don't we have a fucking bastard to kill?"

Shepard tightened his grip on his assault rifle. "Get ready for an ambush."

Jack sniffed the air. "You're right, Shepard. Want me to rip the door off?" Her biotics flared eagerly.

"Good idea, but let's go for something a bit more subtle," Shepard answered.

"Blowing it to Hell?"

"I was thinking we just open it and throw a grenade at a grenade at whatever's in there."

"Shepard, it's a goddamn fuel refinery."

"So no grenade, then."

"Ci-Ci fucking your head, too?"

"Something like that."

Zaeed pushed past them and opened the door. "We don't have time for this," he growled.

The refinery looked like any other one, with pipes full of combustible gasses running everywhere. Santiago and his thugs were standing on a platform, guns out and already trained on Shepard as he entered the area.

"Zaeed Massani," Santiago muttered.

"Vido," Zaeed answered, turning off the safety off.

Shepard saw the fight coming and signaled Jack to get ready. In the old days, Shepard would've just killed Santiago then and there, but it wasn't his place. Besides, one stray bullet in that place and everything would explode.

"Just don't do anything stupid," Shepard ordered, putting his hand behind his back and readying a biotic field.

Jack followed his lead. "Do you want everything splattered on the walls or just their brains?" she asked lowly, an evil smirk creeping across her lips.

"You decide," Shepard answered.

Santiago leaned on the rail, barely looking at Shepard and keeping his gaze fixed on Zaeed. "I should've put you down last time like the dog you are," Santiago growled.

Zaeed unconsciously turned his scars out of Santiago's view. Still, Massani wasn't about to roll over and die; he was too old for that. He would do anything to get rid of Santiago... and there was more than enough opportunity. Zaeed's eyes lit up dangerously as a plan formulated in his mind — or, rather, he decided to take the opportunity.

He raised his assault rifle and fired at Santiago. The Blue Suns instantly responded. Jack threw up a biotic shield between her, Shepard, and the mercenaries as he put a singularity by their heads.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Shepard demanded, diving into cover.

Zaeed ignored the Commander and kept firing. Santiago ducked. "You just signed your death warrant, Massani!"

Zaeed was too enraged to pay attention. As soon as Santiago was gone, he ran for the main line and started hammering off the spigot with the butt of his rifle. Gas flowed into the room, catching fire like everything else and readying to explode.

Shepard rounded on Zaeed. "Are you fucking insane?"

"I want him dead," Zaeed hissed.

"Sounds fair to me," Jack said with a shrug. "Guy's an asshole."

Shepard sighed. "Fine. So we go kill him, but if this place blows up, I'm blaming you, Zaeed, and I do not forgive easily."

"As long as he dies, I'm happy," Zaeed muttered.

Shepard shook his head and started following Santiago. "I know I'm going to regret this..."

Shepard gritted his teeth. Of course there would be a complication. Of course he would have to choose between letting Zaeed getting his revenge and saving a bunch of innocent people.

"Fuck," Shepard growled, kicking the door.

"We don't have time for this!" Zaeed shouted. "He's getting away!"

"What do you want me to do? Leave those people to die?" Shepard snapped.

"That woman's getting to your head, mate, because that's exactly what I want you to do and it's exactly what you're going to do."

Shepard clenched a fist. "You don't give me orders. It's your fault this place is going to blow up, so you're going to fix it."

"Like hell I am!"

Shepard went to the door. "Like you said, we don't have time for this. We're getting those people out of here and if there's time to kill that mother fucker, we'll do it. If not, we live to fight another day."

"Another day? Another day?"

Shepard wasn't in the mood. He rounded on the mercenary and, without dropping his weapon, roundhouse-elbowed Zaeed in the jaw. "Listen to me, old man. I may have a reputation not caring about life, but my job is to save as many lives as I can. I'm stopping a goddamn invasion and the whole fucking galaxy from being destroyed, not help you take care of your personal vendettas. You fucked this mission up so you fix it. It's you that lost Santiago. If one person dies that doesn't have to, I take it out of you in body parts, that clear?"

Zaeed rubbed his jaw. "I don't believe you, you pussy."

Jack snickered. "Fucked yourself, didn't you, Shepard?"

Shepard put the barrel of his assault rifle under Zaeed's chin. "You are expendable," Shepard said lowly. "So's that bastard we're chasing, and maybe so're the people in there. You have no problem letting fifty people die to kill one, fine. I can do this without you, but you can't do it without me, so you have to do whatever the fuck I say, old man."

"Like hell I will!"

Shepard put his finger on the trigger. "I kill you now, Santiago never dies. Do it my way, he still might. Your choice, Zaeed."

Zaeed sighed. "Fuck this up, Shepard, and I will kill you."

Jack snorted. "I'd like to see you try. Shepard doesn't exactly die, in case you haven't noticed."

Santiago was getting away and Zaeed was pissed. Just like Shepard asked, Massani had saved the workers at the refinery. He fired his weapon uselessly at Santiago's ship (well, almost; he did manage to kill one of the goons).

His weapon jammed. He pounded out the thermal clip, only to have it land in a trail of leaking fuel. Shepard took a step back, waiting to see what would happen. In all honestly, it wouldn't be any loss if Zaeed killed himself.

Sure enough, the place exploded, A support column fell on top of Zaeed. Jack laughed and Shepard had to try very hard not to as well. He thought it was only fair, really, that the mercenary be pinned down and needing someone else to save his life.

"What the hell are you standing there for?" Zaeed demanded.

"Poetic justice,"Shepard answered, stepping forward. "The only reason this mission failed is because of you. If you would've been patient instead of shooting the hell out of him when you first saw him, there never would've been that little detour to save the people you condemned. Fact is the guy's now lost his base of operations. I've probably killed seventy-five percent of his forces. You found him once, you can do it again. You aren't dead and next time you corner him, he won't get away."

Zaeed gritted his teeth, partially because he was in pain and partially because Shepard was right. Zaeed had lost his head. Experience had taught him better than to act on his emotions (when he had them). Even Jack had been calm and collected when she'd gone to destroy her past. So had Garrus, Miranda, Jacob, Kasumi... Everyone but Zaeed. Unfortunately, the Mercenary hadn't worked with Shepard since the man had gotten that damned woman back, so Zaeed had no idea that the Commander actually had a good side, especially one that would take precedent in any situation.

"Alright, Shepard, you win," Zaeed hissed. "I'm an old dog, anyway, and I've survived this long. I've still got time to catch him, don't I?"

Shepard nodded. "Yes, you do." He lifted the support off the mercenary and helped him to his feet. "And I won't come with you, either."

"I might have to take you up on that offer, then." Zaeed glanced back to where Santiago's ship disappeared over the horizon. "I'm a goddamn hero now, aren't I?"

"Something like that," Shepard answered. "After all, you saved a lot of people's lives."

"You're making me go soft."

"And that's a problem?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I might just be getting too old for this shit. Don't say anything else, Shepard. I'm still going to fight for you. I've got a contract and you ."

31 December 2170 — New York City, United North American States, Earth, Sol System

Shepard tugged at his collar. He felt like a monkey in that suit, but Stevie needed him in one, so he'd worn it.

Today was a critical day. Stevie was making his move to take over the Reds and Shepard was going to be his right hand. The boy had the makings to be the man that could change the galaxy. In a way, the next few days were going to test Shepard, see what he was made of... what he was truly capable of.

Stevie may have looked serene, but inside he was impatient. He was meeting the head of the Reds's rival gang, the Hudson Hawks, and they were going to discuss an alliance and coup. Shepard was only there as a second in case something went wrong (which, in all honesty, was likely).

Shepard saw an ambush coming. The offices they were meeting in were death traps for the unprepared. They were in a corner conference room, which only had one hallway access point, and a table large enough to take up the whole room and still not be slid across because there was a massive hole in the center of it.

Yes, Shepard could blow out the windows and run, but they were fifty stories up and he highly doubted that he could think of a creative enough use of a mass effect field to save his own ass before it splattered all over the pavement below.

He cracked his knuckles. "I don't like this," he muttered. "We've been in here alone for too long."

Stevie smirked. "Calm down, Johnny. This isn't a gentleman's game... That is, not yet. We're going to change that."

Shepard glanced around the room, finding exits and planning for the worst. "Ten minutes before we leave."

"Patience," Stevie warned. "You think I haven't thought through ever possible scenario? I'm ready for anything."

Shepard had no idea just how right Stevie was. As a matter of fact, Shepard had no idea what Matheson was actually planning to do. Shepard didn't even know that he was, in a sense, participating in treachery. He saw Stevie as the Tenth Street Reds, not as a would-be defector or part of a splinter group.

The leader of the Hudson Hawks entered the room, flanked by five thugs. Their leader looked much like Stevie, in the sense that he was well-dressed, clean-cut, and generally respectable-looking, but his eyes had the dangerous glint of a man who had climbed to the top on a stairway of bodies. The thugs were all generic: big, burly, brusque, and boorish. There was no way they were intelligent enough to actually understand the discussions that were about to take place. If anything, it proved a point: the Hawks were nervous and the Reds had the upper hand. Despite the odds, Shepard knew he could win the fight single-handed. The Muscle carried illegal pistols under their jackets, knives in their belts, and knuckles in their fists. One mass effect field and they'd be free-falling five hundred feet into the traffic below. The Boss would be dead from a pistol shot between the eyes.

"Mr. Matheson," the Boss began, his accent still heavily marked by his New York heritage.

"Mr. Hawk," Stevie answered calmly. Neither man extended a hand to shake.

"Your offer was... unexpected," Hawk continued, sitting down at the conference table. "Our territories don't even meet."

Stevie leaned back in his seat. "They don't yet."

"What, exactly, are you proposing?"

"I already have Las Vegas, Chicago, Dallas, Atlanta, and Washington. You're the last piece of the puzzle," Stevie murmured, lighting a cigarette.

Shepard remained silent, but his hackles were now up — not because of Hawk, but rather because of Stevie. Over the last two years, the major gangs of all the cities Stevie had named had vanished from the map, only to restart and reform at the Xzars. It was only a matter of time before they were the leaders of the criminal underworld.

Stevie was in control. Now that Shepard knew, he could tell how the situation was going to end: Death. As soon as Stevie had what he needed (whatever that was), everyone else in the room would die. In all likelihood, Shepard would be the one to do the killing, too.

Shepard smirked. That was exactly how he wanted it.