Afterlife. Where else. For all the sound and fury coming out of the place, if you need somewhere where you can take a break in Omega, no other place compares. The juxtaposition of its seedy atmosphere and the music pumping through the club provided the perfect distraction for my overactive mind. Of course, that works as long as you're in the good graces of her majesty the queen. But so far it seemed like I was. We even got a booth in the upper levels, which is as VIP as it gets without goint into the private rooms.

Having Kasumi randomly show up had seemed rather convenient at the time, except that she hadn't just shown up randomly. Apparently word had gotten back to Gee about my predicament aboard the SR2, and she had been, quite literally, planning a heist on the freaking Normandy. From her point of view, my coming out of the ship was the convenient part.

Probably a good thing. Given that Keiji was there, I probably saved a whole lot of repair costs for the Normandy.

Sneaking out had been quite easy, all things considered. I think Jack might have noticed, but she either didn't care, or she thought it was amusing and wanted to see what came out of it.

And now here we were, in Afterlife. Brand-new omni-tool, shield harness, a pair of custom SMGs, all of this clearly provided by the Shadow Broker. Unless, of course, Geth tech started making its way through the galaxy while I was out of commission. And a shuttle ready to take off, engines hot and destination programmed. Only it wasn't so simple.

"What do you mean it's not so simple?" Kasumi said. "I'm taking you home. I swear I've had less trouble stealing-"

"Easy," Keiji said, putting his hand on Kasumi's shoulder. "I'm sure Roy has a good excuse for it."

And then he looked at me, and he looked more like please have a good explanation for it so that Kasumi doesn't go off, please. No, really.

I took a moment, sipping from the amber liquid in front of me, letting the sharp taste of the alien whiskey settle on my tongue. A comforting burn that felt eerily familiar in an otherwise bizarre situation.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the rescue," I began, pressing my fingers to my temples. There was that little reminder somewhere in there about what was or wasn't off limits. "It's just... The whole situation with the Collectors. Like it or not, Shepard's in the middle of it. I can't walk away just like that."

Kasumi leaned forward, her dark eyes searching mine. "Roy, the intel we received about Shepard – it was... concerning. She kept you locked up? After everything? And it didn't sound like she was particularly stable either."

The fact that Gee had someone in the Normandy - for that is how I surmised everything had filtered through - didn't surprise me. And to be frank, I wasn't sure I wanted to know who. At this point sometimes knowing less is more.

Keiji nodded, his fingers still on Kasumi's shoulder. "It's just a bit much, mate. We didn't know if we'd be breaking you out of there or scraping you off the walls."

I grimaced at the imagery. "I get that. And believe me, things were confusing, and Shepard was... different. But I need to talk to her. Clear the air. Figure out where we stand. If it's more of a Mexican standoff, then that's that."

Kasumi shook her head, a strand of her black hair falling over her eye. "Roy, Shepard might be the galaxy's hero, but to us, she's just someone who locked our friend away. It's just hard to trust that."

"I've known Shepard," I began, "at least before all this. We've butted heads; but now there's something... off. I want to understand what it is. Whether it's to get closure or to rekindle a partnership. I can't just walk away without answers."

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she was dead?" Kasumi said, getting more agitated. "I still can't believe she's even walking."

Keiji raised his glass, taking a sip. "It's not about what's logical here, Little Bird. It's about emotions. Memories. The ties that bind, no matter how much they might hurt."

That sounded a bit like a quote, but it seemed to do the trick. Kasumi looked at me, at Keiji, and sighed.

"Alright," she said, and pointed a finger at me. "But you better not get yourself into trouble again. I swear, one more rescue mission, and I'm locking you in my vault."

"Sounds like a plan," I said with a chuckle.

"Careful what you wish for," Keiji said, and his smile turned mischievous. "Give her a lock and- Ow, ow, I'm delicate!"

"You just better make sure this talk is worth it," Kasumi said, ignoring Keiji's protestations while still twisting his finger. "Because Keiji and I? We're in this with you. We'll be watching your back."

"We always are," Keiji added, tapping his omni-tool, showing a live feed of the club's entrance. A clear visual on anyone that might walk in.

I nodded in gratitude, finishing my drink. Looking at the clock, it was about time Shepard showed up.

"She'll be here soon. Whatever happens, know that I appreciate this. Both of you."

"You sure she'll come?" Kasumi said.

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been stood up," I replied with a shrug. "That'd be an answer I suppose."

And with that, the two of them finished their drinks and walked off. Not too far, I was sure. Kasumi herself would probably cloak somewhere nearby. Way, way too curious not to be within earshot.

The dim lighting of Afterlife was broken intermittently by the striking purples and blues of neon lighting. A distant, continuous hum of conversations and pulsating beat of the music was omnipresent. Even in the more secluded areas of the club, its rhythmic cadence was ever-present.

As Shepard walked in, a bouncer immediately pointed upwards, not even giving her a chance to scan the room. With a frustrated exhale, she followed the direction, weaving her way through the throngs of patrons, mercenaries, and occasional interspecies couples lost in their own worlds. The fact that she had been recognized, or that the bouncer had pointed straight to where she expected Roy to be was not the most confusing part of this whole thing. The elevator door slid open, allowing her entrance into the exclusive upper tiers. The dim blue lighting, markedly quieter ambiance, and luxurious décor signaled the VIP nature of this area.

There he was. Roy, seated and looking very clearly out of place amidst the opulence of Afterlife's VIP booths. Her eyes immediately took in the fact that he was armed. That was quick. He looked up as she approached, his expression a complex mix of anxiety, relief, and a more familiar stubborn determination.

Shepard didn't sit. Instead, she towered over him, hands on her hips, her eyes glinting with an unspoken intensity. "Roy," she began, voice dripping with the controlled anger of someone struggling to keep a lid on their emotions. "What the hell is this?"

"I wanted to talk," Roy replied, attempting to keep his voice level and neutral. "And I thought it'd be more productive if our conversation didn't involve the barrel of a gun to my face."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "You betrayed me, Roy."

Roy took a deep breath.

"Shepard, it wasn't like that."

"Then explain it to me!" she snapped, voice tinged with desperation. "You put me in that escape pod, lied about it being stuck, and I ended up with the damn Collectors!"

Roy didn't look at her. Took a little too long to answer, in fact, so much so that Shepard started to wonder if what she was going to hear was just something out of that strange chip in his head. A chip that, Miranda claimed, was uncomfortably familiar when compared to the Collector tech that she had had ripped from every inch of her body.

"I was trying to save you, Shepard," he finally said, his voice slow and measured. "The Normandy was being torn apart, we were completely outmatched, and I saw you, still trying to get everyone out. I couldn't… I couldn't let you be the last one on the ship, not after everything."

"You think trapping me in an escape pod, feeding me to the Collectors, was the answer?"

"I didn't feed you to the Collectors," Roy replied, and this time there was more spirit in his voice. "I wanted you out, because I didn't even know if I was going to make it out. I barely got to Joker and Talitha in time."

"You killed me!" Shepard shouted. Her fists clenched as her voice lowered, a cold, sharp edge replacing the fiery anger. "Do you even understand, Roy? Being trapped in that pod, helpless. Those damn Collectors cracking it open, the numbing freeze of the seeker swarm. All the combat training, all the battles I've faced, and I could do nothing. Just trapped, waiting for whatever came next."

Roy looked up at her, searching her eyes for some glimmer of understanding, of forgiveness. But he found none.

"And then," Shepard continued, each word dripping with icy disdain, "I was taken out of that pod, brought into that... room. It was a nightmare. I knew, Roy. I knew they were going to take me apart. Piece by piece. And I could do nothing."

Roy's gaze dropped, a deep weight settling on his shoulders. "When I realized the Collectors had all been taken, Shepard, I tried. I moved heaven and earth to get to you. To bring you back."

Shepard took a step back, her voice breaking, but her glare unyielding. "But you didn't, did you?"

"No," Roy admitted. "I didn't."

Silence filled the space between them, the thrum of Afterlife's beats seemingly distant, inconsequential compared to the tension in the air.

"So what do you want Roy?" Shepard said.

It wasn't a question looking for a specific answer. It was a question that had been in her head since she woke up. It might have started even earlier, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember. All her memories were there, but... flat, for lack of a better word. IT was information, and knowing that information made her feel something, but the memories themselves were just repositories. It was extremely disconcerting.

"I just want to go home," he finally replied.

Shepard, taken aback by Roy's response, furrowed her brow. "Home?" she echoed, her voice a mix of confusion and disbelief. "I thought you hated it back there. Why would you want to go home?"

"No! That's not-" Roy hesitated, clearly grappling with how to express himself. "There's no home if the Reapers just come and destroy everything."

"So, what," Shepard said, crossing her arms. "You thought by using me you'd find a way out of this mess? That somehow, by handing me over to the Collectors, you could buy yourself a ticket home?"

"I didn't hand you to the Collectors dammit! I was trying to save you!"

Shepard didn't answer. Didn't need to. She just held Roy's gaze, as seconds slipped by. Finally, Roy just raised his hands, a gesture she understood well enough. Giving up. He stood up and adjusted his gear.

"Good luck Shepard," he finally said. "I truly hope you make it."

And with that, he walked away. Shepard watched him go, unable to bring herself to say anything else. As soon as he was out of sight, she fell back on one of the sofas, letting out an angry grunt through clenched teeth. This was supposed to have made her feel better. One weight off her shoulders. Instead, she felt like she had instead been trashing in quicksand, and was now a foot deeper in it.

She thought she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, but almost immediately a figure shimmered into view. Shepard reflexively reached for her gun, but the person didn't move. Dark bodysuit, pale skin, a red marking across her lip and striking eyes peering at her from the shadows of her hood. She didn't react as Shepard made for her gun. She was sitting placidly, both hands crossed over each other on the table.

"So, Shepard," she said. She had an airy, playful voice, lightly accented.

"Who the hell are you?" Shepard replied.

"I'd have thought Miri would have kept notes on us," she paused for a moment, her slight smile not changing. "I'm pretty sure I saw a dossier in her quarters aboard the Hibiscus." She waited, but no answer. "No? Kasumi Goto."

"Huh," Shepard replied, her hand relaxing away from the gun. "There was no picture."

"I don't enjoy photography. Except in very private settings," Kasumi said, her smile not wavering or changing one iota.

"Well, nice to meet you," Shepard said.

"Oh I wouldn't go that far."

That invited a pause. Shepard gave Kasumi a closer look, but her demeanor didn't waver. "I take it you're with Roy."

"I am. I'm here with him, I've been with him... hm, it's got to be two years at least now, doing all kinds of Reapery things. And I was with him when we got you out of that Collector ship."

"Your point?" Shepard replied, leaning back and crossing her arms.

"My point is that in all that time I've seen him go through a lot. And for all of it, I've only seen him truly fall apart twice. Once, when Mika died. You should know, you were there." Kasumi paused, and Shepard gave her a small, redundant nod. "And the second time, was in front of your dead body aboard the Hibiscus."

Shepard gritted her teeth and clenched her fist, her gaze narrowing. "It's what he wanted," she said.

To her surprise, Kasumi chuckled. It should have made her angrier, but for some reason, it felt like an ice dagger to her throat. There was something disconcerting about the way she laughed, no matter how soft and airy it seemed.

"It isn't, but you really can't tell, can you?" Kasumi said, adding emphasis by leaning forward so as to better look at Shepard. "It's so obvious, but you don't see it. Did Miri forget to put your common sense back? Is that was the Collectors were after?"

Shepard opened her mouth, but couldn't speak. Yet Kasumi didn't seem to care. She got up, took a few seconds to adjust her clothes and hood, and then gave Shepard one last look.

"Well, good luck then. Not with the Collectors, with Cerberus. If you can't tell friend from foe, you're going to have a great time in there. As for me? I'm going to go make sure my friend is okay."

And with that and a flick of her wrist, Kasumi cloaked herself and disappeared from view.

The muffled sounds of Afterlife's beats continued in the background, the flashing neon lights now a distant blur. I leaned against a balcony railing, staring out into the heart of Omega. The tangle of metal and rock, the smoke and haze rising from various corners, it was a complete mess, which felt oddly appropriate.

Kasumi and Keiji stood nearby, keeping their distance but casting glances my way. Kasumi wasn't even cloaked. A rarity in an open place like this. It occurred to me that I had almost gotten used to their presence. Their support. I could cast my mind a few years back and I wouldn't have known what that felt like.

I couldn't shake the weight of Shepard's words, the anger and betrayal in her eyes. I knew it was a risk, because I had in fact set her up to throw her into the pod. I had expected that she'd be supremely pissed once we got out of that mess. I had seen pissed-off Shepard before. I knew we'd weather the storm, as long as I stood my ground. But then the Collectors nabbed her.

All the time Cerberus had spent rebuilding her, I had spent dealing with it. The consequences of my actions. Sure, Shepard would have died if she had been the one to try and save Joker. Maybe Talityha's presence would have changed that. Maybe not. I knew we'd get hit the moment Joker left the controls. I knew it was coming. Shepard didn't. I had worked through it that I had failed, but so many of the crew had made it out that otherwise wouldn't have. And Shepard was back.

What I didn't expect is that she'd be unable to move past her being pissed at me. And maybe I could have convinced her otherwise.

Except for the lack of freedom to talk. And the AI riding my ass. Because yes, while not as strong as it had been, the entire conversation with Shepard had been done to the buzzing feeling of my brain being twisted to keep it in line. Shepard has to lead this mission, that much I got. And while the AI hadn't been particularly chatty, it was buzzing me quite often. If I'm honest, I thought I could feel some desperation coming from its end.

Or maybe exasperation. That one I'm more familiar with inciting.

Keiji approached, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Hey," he began, his voice soft, "it's going to be okay, man. We've been through worse."

I glanced over at him, forcing a faint smile. "Thanks. I'm not sure about the 'worse' part, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"I might have been a bit...forward with Shepard," Kasumi said. "I think she needed to hear some things."

I chuckled dryly. "That's one way to put it. But thanks, Kasumi. I'm not sure if it helped, but I appreciate you trying."

"That's what friends are for, right?" she replied with a shrug.

Before I could respond, my omni-tool buzzed to life, its orange hue glowing brightly against the dark backdrop of Omega. It was brand-new and I hadn't restored my data, so precious few people knew the address. I opened the messaging app, and froze.

"What is it?" Kasumi said. As it's her want, and not waiting for an invitation, she stuck her head in to read it. Then looked at me, and sighed. "I should've kept my mouth shut."

Keiji laughed, earning himself a series of not particularly hard but immensely entertaining slaps on his arm in response. I looked at them go, smiled, and looked at the message again.

It was from Shepard.

I'm sorry. Please stay.

Author's Notes: All right, the chat! Ironically, it actually got shorter after a couple of iterations. Our Shepard clone is, indeed, rather unstable, and we'll learn more about how and why she's struggling, but we've got a good look here at what's happening with her. Courtesy of Kasumi, of course, because if there's someone who's observant and good at reading people, it's a Master Thief.

So I don't know, this was hard to write so I hope I did a good enough job. But now we're lined up for actually starting to get some stuff done. Well, in the case of ME2 it's mostly recruiting people with some main plot sprinkled through it. It's an interesting narrative structure, because creating a powerful crew is pretty much what the narrative tells us is the most important part of defeating the Collectors. The main plot itself is... questionable (the baby reaper is something I conceptually despise, but accept it as being an objectively good boss fight: the disappearing platform, the waves, the two phases with the specific targets, it's well put together and the gunplay in ME2 is substantially better than ME1).

Anyway! I look forward to it. Delicious character interaction!

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

One thing that was brought up that's quite important (thanks for all comments/reviews everyone! I really appreciate them!). Rainsfere, regarding the alternatives, I suspect I'm going to have to drag a plot point forward so as to not get bogged down with the whys and the hows. The appropriate moment for the resolution between Roy and the AI will be much later (I mean, I don't think this is a spoiler!), but in terms of other plans and whatnot, I think I have to make the AI and Roy have a natter about that because it is quite the relevant point. Roy hasn't been completely idle, but he's definitely not taken the kind of strides his counterpart in Divergence did. I think you're right that I can't really keep going without addressing this particular slumbering Krogan in the room. As for the omni-tool, now we all know how that happened :)

Next time! Well, I'm going to be writing NaNoWriMo, so the next couple of chapters might be on the short side, but I want to wrap up omega with a fun little scene and tidy up the local recruitment, and then we're off to explore the big bad galaxy.