Despite the fact that Omega's underbelly was pretty much exactly what you'd expect - dank, dark, and buzzing with an intensity that threatens to send a man insane - there was always something new to find out. The fact that a slaver outfit had taken it as their favorite jaunt was not the surprising part. The level they had chosen, however, was. It was, where else, closer to the bottom than the top of the station. But there was something very odd about this level. The walls were... painted with murals, elaborate ones, although faded and scratched. We passed what undoubtedly must have been a hotel, and a classy one at that, which was reduced to free space for whoever wanted to take it. As we walked by the dilapidated doors, I saw inside frayed carpets and heavily damaged, elaborate lamps of turian design hanging from the ceiling. Even the more residential-looking structures were ornately decorated, and still retained an air of aristocracy to themselves.
"Someone tried to gentrify Omega. Now I've seen everything," I said.
Jacob gave me a glance and chuckled, he probably was thinking something similar. He was leading the way, his footsteps sure but quiet, definitely feeling a lot more confident than I personally thought the situation warranted. Behind me, I could sense Jack's restlessness. I could almost see the biotic energy crackling around her fingers every time I glanced at her. To be honest, I was surprised she had more or less stuck to the plan - or whatever we had that could be considered close to one.
"I've had just about enough of this sneaking around," Jack muttered.
"Sneaking around is the only way we're getting to those traffickers without alerting them and getting everyone killed," Jacob replied without looking back. "And saving the prisoners is top priority," he added, anticipating what I guessed we both have surmised Jack's answer was going to be.
I mean, if you want to convince Jack to pump the brakes, don't threaten her with a good time.
Jack snorted. "Speak for yourself."
"Remember the plan," I said, trying to diffuse the tension. "We go in smart, and we get out with as many civilians as we can. Then you can blow the place to hell."
She glared at me. Those wild eyes, so full of fury, held a hint of something else today. Weird. And my head was busy enough making sure I could focus on walking and talking to have any deeper thoughts, at least for today.
"Don't think you're calling the shots, dumbass."
"I don't need to. We've got Jacob," I said with a nod towards our fearless leader.
Jacob smirked. "That's right. We've got a job to do. Let's keep moving."
The walkways were narrow, and the further we went, the fewer civilians we saw. The almost-gentrified but eaten-by-Omega open area was left behind and we entered the much more familiar labyrinth that was the inner corridor structure of the station. Every now and then, someone well armed and armoured would walk by, and we'd hug the shadows, waiting for the right moment to slip past. We had no idea who would or wouldn't be part of this group we were about to confront, so we couldn't take any chances. To be honest, I was secretly with Jack in wishing to stop all the sneaking around. Fresh air or not, I'd rather get stuck in the firefight already if there was one to be had, than to deal with the tension of trying not to start one too early.
As we approached the entrance to the traffickers' base, Jacob held up his hand, signaling for us to stop. He gestured to a small service vent. "Jack, think you can open that up?"
She approached, rolling her eyes. "Obviously," she muttered.
Very carefully, we made our way through one of the side corridors around the front area, and to where the vent was. Once we were there, Jack wreathed herself in biotics, her hand glowing as she used her powers to force the vent open. There was barely a noise from the thing becoming unhinged, and easily passed as another example of the clanky machinery that kept Omega running - barely.
Jacob peered inside. "Roy, you've got the best eyes here. What do you see?"
Best eyes? News to me, but it occurred that he was probably just trying to keep us all involved. I approached the vent, squinting to make out the details within. There were guards, of course, and cells with civilians locked inside. Six of them, all of them humans. Which kinda explained the whole "human trafficking" thing, it was literal. The traffickers had them huddled like animals. That definitely set the mood. "Five guards on the main floor. Two by the entrance, three patrolling. The cells are on the far side. And of course whatever they have on the second level. Seems like they're all batarians."
Jacob nodded, thinking. "We take out the guards as fast as possible, free the civilians, and then create a diversion for our escape."
Jack grinned. "Now you're talking my language."
"Don't make a mess, let's do it clean and fast," Jacob retorted, getting an eyeroll from Jack.
"And the guards by the entrance?" I asked.
"We'll need a distraction," Jacob replied. "Roy, you think you can handle that?"
I nodded. "Consider it done."
"We stick together. No heroics," Jacob warned, looking pointedly at Jack.
She snorted but didn't argue. Yeah, heroics wasn't the word I'd have used either. As we crept closer, I felt that familiar rush. The thrill of the fight, the adrenaline. That letter from Archangel had stung Jacob, I could see it in his eyes, even though he wouldn't admit it. He did have a pretty high opinion of Shepard, after all. Main reason why he had come with us to rescue her from the Collectors and stuck around afterwards. Personally? Right now my opinion wasn't as high as I'd have preferred.
I slipped a smoke grenade from my pouch, waiting for the right moment. With a quick glance at Jacob, I threw it towards the guards by the entrance. Smoke billowed out, obscuring their vision. Screams and shouts filled the air.
"Now!" Jacob shouted.
We moved as one, a well-oiled machine. Jack's biotics flared as she threw a massive biotic push towards the general direction of the guards, sending them flying. Which made me wonder why the hell I was doing a "distraction" to begin with if Jack was just going to come out and start throwing shit around. Jacob must have had the same thought, because he had rushed through the door and was now pretty much on his own as the three inside turned to the commotion.
"Jack! Goddammit!" he yelled, assault rifle up and already opening fire. I didn't even blink, because I knew who I was with.
Jack, of course.
She hadn't even stopped walking, covering herself in biotics, and with a scream, she let out a shockwave that made the very building tremble on every impact, sending guards flying left and right. It was my chance. In seconds, we had made the main floor ours. But we didn't have long before reinforcements arrived. I had already rushed past everything, knowing Jack and Jacob could deal with the batarian clowns, and made quickly for the cells, easily unlocking them. A nice little tech spike courtesy of the Normandy's armory.
I mean, how else would it be easy for me? Future Tech and me didn't exactly mix.
Yet with the cages open, the people didn't move an inch. They were dirty and barely clothed, all of them with wild matted hair.
"W-what's..." one of them muttered.
"No time, let's go!" I called, spurring them into action.
"Move it, follow him!" Jack added, almost pulling them out of the cages herself. Despite her usual self, she was... almost gentle with them, for Jack's standards. I mean, she didn't even call me a dumbass. I guess that even a force of nature like herself has a soft spot somewhere.
So we had them, the civilians we came for, but the hard part was yet to come. The base was on high alert now, alarms blaring. And just as we were getting ready to bolt, a heavy metal curtain fell across the main entrance, locking us in. The sounds coming from upstairs were almost like a demolition derby, and soon we had people pouring down the stairs on both sides of our position. Even as we opened fire, trying to slow down the outpouring, enough of them pushed through that it was futile. They came down with heavies at the front, and quickly placed themselves in good cover positions.
Damn, they were better than I expected. I quickly evaluated the situation. We were outnumbered, outgunned, and caught between a rock and a hard place. The civilians, pale and frightened, huddled behind us. Their terrified eyes darted between the mercenaries and us. It was clear they weren't ready for a fight.
Jacob turned to Jack, his voice low and intense. "You're up."
Jack grinned, an unsettling smile that promised destruction. "Of course I am."
She surged forward, blue biotic energy flaring to life around her. With a powerful thrust, she sent furniture, crates, and cover barriers hurtling back, taking with them three of the hunkered down mercs. The way they smashed into the walls, they weren't getting up in a hurry. They crumpled to the floor, out of the fight. As she did all this, Jacob and I were laying down cover fire on the opposite side. Not only had Jack given us a better position, but the two remaining mercs on that side hurried back and didn't look ready to try and bolt out any time soon.
"I need you to rip that door open Jack!" Jacob called.
"I'll be a sitting duck while I do that!" she replied.
"We'll cover you!" I yelled, poking out of cover, SMGs in both hands. It was time to put the gene mods to use. Jacob threw a smoke grenade, not blocking the entire field of view, but aiming for the closer side. It'd cover their view once Jack came out and started working her boitics, while we'd be visible enough to draw their attention. Smart.
As the mercs unleashed a barrage of gunfire, I nimbly targeted two simultaneously. I fired with my left hand, focusing on it while my right fired in the general vicinity of the other target, and as soon as he dropped, almost instantly shifted to the target within my right. He skidded, scrambling to move back, and clearly surprised by how poorly things had gone for him. Bet he expected the split fire would give him time to reach cover. His backpedaling would have been somewhat successful, but Jacob was there to finish the job for me. We had to duck down ourselves right after, shields teetering on low, and not wanting to leave Jack hanging, I threw a grenade overhead in the general direction of the mercs.
"Get down!" I yelled to our charges. They obeyed immediately, and the explosion in that small space was almost deafening.
I didn't realize how awfully loud it was going to be but, luckily, Jack didn't seem fazed. It was barely two heartbeats then the metal door was finally ripped from the entrance, sent flying and crashing on the opposite wall. Jack almost stumbled, taking two steps back, but simply waved at me, as if she had already realized what I was about to do.
"Move, move!"
The civilians looked at me, and this time, despite all that was going on, they did as told and followed me as I charged first, twin SMGs firing wildly as I moved.
"Covering fire!" Jacob yelled, out of cover and letting his assault rifle fire freely.
He moved closer to Jack, and without a further invitation she took the cue to start heading for the door, pulling her shotgun as she did. The prisoners rushing behind me, I stood by the open door, and let loose a barrage of gunfire, drawing the attention of the mercs and buying the others some precious seconds. Jack, her biotic energy swirling around her, charged forward, clearing a path and creating a barrier between us and the enemy. She had to be running hot by now, but she seemed undeterred. We cleared the door and headed out at speed, and not a moment too soon as a rocket hit the wall right behind us, probably fired blindly from behind the smoke of the grenade.
"Civilians first!" I shouted, holding the position by the door as the terrified people rushed through.
We kept running, putting space between us and the enemy. It was clear that the civilians had smelled freedom, and they liked the smell. We all moved swiftly, the sounds of gunfire growing more distant as we put some space between us and the traffickers. I could feel the adrenaline still pumping, but we were almost clear. We were alive, and the civilians were safe. And that was all that mattered.
Our escape was less of a sprint and more of a tactical retreat. The civilians, feeling more like part of our motley crew, moved hesitantly through the maze-like passageways of Omega. I could feel their anxiety; Omega wasn't exactly a sanctuary for the fearful. But we had taken this route for a reason. The maze-like corridors were a great way to throw our pursuers off our scent. Jacob took point, leading us through the labyrinth of dark corridors, omni-tool up and keeping half an eye on a map of the area to guide our steps. At each nexus, we employed a calculated delay—smoke billowing from canisters, electrical interference disorienting any pursuing trackers, and hacked doors sealing behind us. This had been Jacob's idea, and mostly because of how... well, messy Shepard's own op had been.
The pulsing neon lights of Omega flickered overhead, casting eerie glows and deeper shadows as we moved. Every time we made a turn, the pursuit seemed to take longer to catch up. Soon we were actually laying decoys. More smoke grenades, more hacked hatches. Making it harder for them to guess which path to take. We turned another corner, breathing a collective sigh of relief as the path ahead seemed clear. But that sense of security was short-lived. We all pulled our guns up, pointing at the figure in front of us. Turian. A sniper rifle resting in his arms, but not pointing at us.
"Quite the escape you orchestrated," he said, his voice modulated with extra echo. It took me only a moment to place it, mostly because of the adrenaline and stress, but it was obvious. Archangel.
"Archangel, I presume," Jacob said. He said it with such calm and poise I had to suppress a snigger, as I wished for a moment Garrus had decided to go by Doctor Livingston instead.
Still got a couple of glances thrown at me.
"Disappointing," Archangel said, but giving Jacob a nod. "Not much use staging a rescue when you leave the perpetrators unharmed."
"Our priority was the civilians," Jacob replied, his voice unwavering. "We're not going to turn the place into a warzone when we have six people to take care of."
Archangel tilted his head, his face still hidden behind the helmet. "And I assume leaving the traffickers alive was part of that 'priority'?"
"We did what we had to. Not everything requires a bloodbath."
One of the civilians, a lanky young man with matted hair, squinted at the mysterious figure. "You're... Archangel?"
The turian nodded. "And you're safe now. Here," he reached into the back webbing of his hardsuit, and pulled out a datapad. "Instructions to a shuttle. It'll get you off this station."
The civilians took a moment to process this, exchanging glances of disbelief and gratitude. They took the datapad, the young man offering a shaky nod of appreciation before they continued onward. As the last one disappeared from view, I couldn't help but chuckle.
"You know, Garrus," I began, my voice dripping with mock concern, "you still seem like you've got a cactus in your armor."
Everyone turned to look at me, surprise etched in the faces I could see. Then Jacob turned to look at Archangel. Jack didn't seem to know or care, I think she was just surprised I had said something. Garrus took a moment, then pulled his helmet free. That was him all right, same facepaint, but different eyepiece this time. He regarded me with this usual sour look, and finally just shook his head.
"Morgan. Of course it's you. Still playing soldier?" he said. "I'm surprised you're still alive."
"You sure you want to go there?" I replied. "Where's your team?"
Garrus seemed like he was about to say something, then stopped. And then I realized I should've kept my mouth shut. Kinda gave a bit too much away.
"All right, you two know each other," Jacob said, clearly sensing the tension and wanting to cut through. He turned to Garrus. "Look, we've jumped through all your hoops, so are you going to hear us out or not?"
"Where's Shepard? Assuming that's her," Garrus replied.
"Oh it's her all right," Jacob said. "She's a bit stuck in quarantine. You know, deadly virus in the place you sent her to clear out without a warning?"
Ooh, Jacob was testy, too. He did want to impress Shepard, after all. I looked at him, looked back at Jack, and saw she was following the proceedings with the most bored expression on her face I had ever seen on her. Bored Jack was a first for me. I assumed it had something to do with her biotic exercise. Bet she was itching for a second round, but was too stubborn to admit she needed a break before then. Just keeping it down and not giving anything away.
"Yeah. Old Shepard wouldn't have had a problem with that one," Garrus said. "So what happened?"
"Why don't you come and ask her yourself?" Jacob said.
Garrus took a moment to think. He looked at me for even longer, though, and then at Jack, who took the chance to very visibly yawn. I didn't hide my smile.
Never change, Jack.
"Fine. I'm curious to see what kind of outfit she's running," he said. "So far, it hardly seems worth faking her own death."
"You-"
"Great," Jacob said, interrupting me, and pointing at the sealed door. "Let's go before our friends find us."
Garrus looked at me again, up and down, then shook his head and followed Jacob. Jack, too, gave me a look, but she instead rolled her eyes before following the group. Man, Garrus had always been a hardass, and we never quite got along - I mean, he punched me off my feet and broke my nose the first time we actually talked aboard the Normandy - but he seemed specially dickish today. I looked around, taking the scenery in before moving on, but stopped to do a double take. I could swear I had seen...
Is that... someone cloaked?
Nothing ever goes to plan. Nothing. Jacob was used to that, it was literally part of his training. But for whatever reason, things always seemed to go off the rails in the most unexpected ways when Roy was involved.
Case in point, he was literally missing.
Again.
They hadn't even noticed. He had been so focused on the morose turian with them that he hadn't even realized Roy had stopped following at some point. He hadn't even expected it. Where the hell was he?
"Where the hell is he?" Shepard said.
They were in the penthouse, as most of the crew called it. Shepard's quarters. It had been quite an awkward time, waiting with Garrus until the quarantine was over for Shepard to come out. He seemed to find the whole thing amusing, but every chuckle seemed laced with a derisive, bitter core that made it unpalatable. And Jack? She had laughed, and left for her hidey hole at the bottom of the ship. With the way she had reacted when he asked, Jacob was convinced she had actually noticed, and hadn't said a thing.
Unbelievable.
"I don't know," Jacob said. "I didn't even realize it until we got to the shuttle."
"Probably for the better," Garrus said.
"Don't start, Garrus," Shepard said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Jacob looked at Miranda, but she wasn't giving anything away, despite the fact that she was probably the best person in the room to share thoughts about this. Considering everything Morgan went through for Shepard, it was surprising he'd abandon ship at the first sign of trouble. Well, maybe not the first sign. Shepard seemed a little, or a lot, unstable. But for crying out loud, she had been dead. You don't just take off when someone's at their lowest just because they bark at you.
He had no idea what had transpired between Garrus and Shepard. She had gone in the meeting room, kicked everyone but the turian out, and by the time they had come out, Garrus seemed on board with the whole situation. His attitude towards the rest of them hadn't changed, though, but he seemed to be cutting Shepard some slack.
Well, I'm glad I didn't open with Roy going AWOL before that happened.
"Look, why don't I go out and look for him," Jacob said.
"You," Garrus replied. It wasn't even a question.
"Well then, why don't you do it," he replied hotly. "You're the local."
"Can we just-"
Shepard's reply was interrupted by a ping of her omni-tool. She furrowed her brow and looked around, as if she was taking inventory of the people present trying to figure out who'd send her a message. She glanced at her tool, and with a frustrated roll of her eyes, swiped it with her right hand. Didn't seem like a long message.
"It's Roy," she said. "Wants to meet in Afterlife."
"Neutral ground," Miranda said. "Not a terrible idea," she added, with a smile so forced it had to be intentional.
Shepard stood up and grabbed the jacket of her uniform, already making for the door.
"Let's just get this over with," the Commander said, walking out with resolute steps.
Author's Notes: So I was thinking, when I started writing this chapter. How would the mission go? Big mess? Close calls? Well, if you stop to think about it, if the objective is to hit some slavers that are moving captured people through Omega, then ideally you'd want to put the safety of those prisoners first. And with a skeleton crew of only three people and no possible reinforcements (or few, hi Rosie!) , then the moment you hit a speed bump you're going to want to make like a tree and leave if you've got the prisoners with you. Which is what they did.
As for Garrus, well! What did Shepard tell him? Canonically, in game, you have three options, which amount to, essentially, "that's why you're here, to watch my back," "they're a necessary evil," or "well, they're right about this." None of them sound like Shepard is particularly fond of them, so take your pick as to how Shepard convinced Garrus to stick around. They all work in this case :D
And the second part? Well, I was thinking about the inevitable conversation between Roy and Shepard, and where and how it would take place. Then I started considering the others. And the chain of events led to - ah, I mean, you can easily guess :) Ended it there, because I want to spend a bit of time to work it, as several things will fall in place, and it's not going to be a quick chat.
And as always, ff you like what you see, you can always throw a bit of support (which is GREATLY appreciated) my way at:
tinyurl (period) com (slash) y2q9cop6
Next time, we go for a drink in Afterlife. Let's hope I do it justice! Thanks for comments, support, criticisms, and for reading the story. I appreciate them all. And yes, Rainsfere, I do agree we can't quite go back to the way things were in ME1. My intention, if it wasn't obvious enough, was to have this Shepard, who you, the reader, knows is actually the clone, have to go through something similar to what real Shepard went through with Roy back then. Of course, the clone doesn't know she's a clone, and seems to have Shepard's memories (we know how that happened, Miranda being quite sneaky about the tech she used, and got Roy to unwittingly help with it). But it can't go the same way as it did. It can start similarly, and that was the intention, but if it hits too close it's me making a mistake and not writing it properly. Roy isn't who he was back then.