Awakening

Chapter Six

…

Shepard is stolen out from under Cerberus's nose before they can wake her. The warring factions who still want her body lead her right to Omega… and Garrus. Shepard/Garrus.

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Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.

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Shepard lined up the shot and fired. "Boom!" she shouted. "Headshot!"

She felt popcorn pelting her back and turned to throw Ripper a glare.

"Sidonis is still beating you by like, a hundred points," the young asari said helpfully.

Shepard's glare turned on Sidonis before returning to the screen. "I don't know how," she complained. "Medal of Duty is an N7 game and I'm—well…" she trailed off, realizing she probably shouldn't say. Most of them knew, or at least she was pretty sure they knew, who she used to be. But it was an unspoken thing. It was too dangerous a secret to talk about.

"I can tell you what you're not," Ripper replied cheerfully. "A video game whiz."

Shepard dodged some fire and threw a grenade before replying. "Please remember that I know where you sleep."

She snorted. "Well I know where you sleep too."

"Yep," Shepard said. "Next to your boss. Your move."

"Guys," said Sidonis. "The match is over. You can stop sniping at each other now."

Shepard looked at the scores. "How did you get another hundred points? I swear I just checked the scores. Are you hacking the game?"

From behind her Ripper was laughing uncontrollably, adding insult to injury.

He held his hands up. "You were too busy arguing to shoot! It's not my fault that I'm good at this game."

Shepard slapped him on the shoulder. "I'll get you next time. I swear I should be better at this!"

Mierin popped her head into the room. "Guys, team meeting. Let's go."

…

The team stared at Garrus.

"To be clear," Vortash said, "You're sending the humans into Blue Suns territory, into a plague zone that may or may not have been caused by the Collectors, to possibly bring plague back to the base?"

Garrus raised his eyes to the heavens as if praying to the spirits for patience. "Yes, Vortash, clearly my purpose in this mission is to infect my team." He leveled a gaze at the batarian. "Whatever is happening there is something we need to know more about. The Blue Suns don't know much about the plague, according to what access we have to their network. We can't get more answers without going in. And I already know that humans can't spread it to us, so long as they decontaminate properly." He glanced at Shepard but didn't give away her little field trip to Mordin's.

"Also," he said, "We know they are getting more cautious. They likely suspect we've broken into their network again. You've all been telling me of rumors that the gangs are looking to collaborate against us. What I need is information, the kind that will be well protected. To that end, the humans won't be the only ones infiltrating."

Garrus went on to explain his three-prong approach. All teams would act at the same time, preventing word from passing between the gangs about their investigations. While Shepard, Butler, and Montague would be in the Gozu district, Sensat would travel with Mierin and Ripper to dig into Eclipse a little more. Grundan Krul would take Vortash and Erash into Blood Pack territory.

"Disrupt and destroy what you can," he told them. "But remember that our primary goal is information."

…

Monteague took the lead on their trip into the Gozu district.

They were undercover for the moment, but fortunately running around in full armor was common enough on Omega not to excite comment.

"Streets are looking empty," Butler commented.

Shepard agreed. She had been in the district only a few days before and it had still felt normal, despite the unusual crowd in Mordin's clinic. Now the rest of the district seemed just as affected. The clinic was their first stop, to learn what they could about the plague.

The receptionist answered what she could. Not much was known about the plague yet, except what everyone knew—that it didn't affect humans. Or vorcha, of course, but nothing seemed to affect the vorcha. The woman was kind, but her information was not particularly helpful. Fortunately Mordin, despite having patients waiting, would spare five minutes for a friend.

"Plague is not natural," he told them. He pulled some kind of diagram up on his omni-tool, though none of them were quite able to understand what they were seeing. "Synthesized, targeted. For what purpose is unknown. Collectors are a possible culprit."

Shepard felt a little queasy at that. As far as she knew, the Collectors were still interested in her. She wondered if she was the reason they wouldn't let their plague affect humans. They couldn't take her if she was dead.

Mordin explained that he was working on synthesizing a cure, but he needed time. "Have only just started," he said. "Need to experiment more."

He was able to tell them a little more than what they already knew. The plague was airborne and easily transmissible from person to person. The initial infection vector was unknown, though there were a number of possibilities. It wasn't hard to spread sickness in the slums.

At that point Mordin was out of time, but promised to alert them once he had figured out a cure. From there, they went to infiltrate the district's Blue Suns base.

It was the work of a mere few minutes to take down a small group of patrolling gang members and steal their armor, stashing the gear they arrived with. Butler couldn't help but snark a little. "Hope they don't ask for a password or else we'll have to get in the old fashioned way."

"Sounds like you'd rather shoot and loot," Monteague said. "That attitude's gonna get you killed one day."

Butler shrugged. "Lived my whole life on Omega and I'm still here. Must be doing something right."

The older man just shook his head.

With a little remote assistance from Weaver, they were able to sync to the Blue Suns omni-tools, so any worry about passwords was moot. The Suns used an electronic system at their main bases, so any needed passkeys were coded to the omni-tools. They were able to enter without a hitch.

"Divide and conquer," Monteague whispered to them. "Butcher, you're free to cause any disruption that won't get us caught. Ghost, you're with me. Need to look for any unsecured datapads or a network room. If they've got lines of communication to the other mercs, we've got to find them."

Shepard nodded and followed, trying to seem casual. Their Blue Suns armor seemed to be enough for them to pass without suspicion, as long as they didn't try to talk to anyone.

Shepard grabbed and copied any unsecured datapads without bothering to check what they contained. The team would sort through the data later to see if anything was useful, and they didn't want to waste time now while they were inside. They went deep into the base, and, after looking in a few wrong places, finally found a server room.

"Hey!" An unfriendly voice called out as they approached the terminals. "This room is restricted. Get back to your patrols!"

In two long strides, Monteague had reached the merc and with a deft move, snapped his neck. He looked back at Shepard. "We're on borrowed time now, let's hurry."

She didn't need any more convincing. She pulled a small security key from a hidden pocket and plugged it in to one of the terminals. Hopefully Weaver would be able to break into the deeper encryptions before it was discovered. Then she started copying data to her omni-tool, as much as could be saved.

"Five minutes," Monteague said from another terminal. "Won't risk any more time than that. If shit goes sideways, I want you to cloak immediately."

"Yes, Dad," she murmured, and ignored his huff in response.

It was perhaps two minutes later when they heard footsteps in the hallway. Shepard whipped around, fingers hovering over the controls for her tactical cloak.

"It's me!" the figure said quickly, hands up, as he stepped into the doorway. They were all hard to recognize in their matching armor, but the voice was undeniably Butler. "We gotta go."

Monteague was at the door in a moment. "What did you do?"

"Why do you think I did something?" Butler asked, voice full of faux innocence.

"Because you always do," Monteague grumbled. The three of them started moving down the hallway.

"Well…" he prevaricated a moment. "Sensat gave me some gifts before we left."

"Christ." Monteague looked at the sky. "How soon is this place going to blow?"

Shepard sped up her pace.

Butler waved his hand. "Maybe five more minutes? And it's not the whole place. Just, you know, the armory. And where they keep most of their mechs."

Shepard wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Disrupt their operations, he'd been told. To blow up the part of the base that was already full of volatile substances was more than that. It was… well, it was very Butler.

They left in a hurry, and were fortunate enough to only hear the explosion once it occurred.

…

Miranda was sick of these games. They had gotten nowhere electronically, there was nothing left to be learned when their operations were under constant attack. She knew the answer was to get boots on the ground on Omega. But there were two obstacles. First, to convince the Illusive Man to let her go. And second, that she couldn't go alone. Who could be trusted?

She could only think of one. Jacob Taylor. Once he was Alliance. Once he was her boyfriend. All of that was past. But she still believed he was a man of honor. She had to admit to herself that those seemed to be thin on the ground at Cerberus, at least for now.

Neither of them were the sneaky type, nor accustomed to following rumors. But she couldn't trust this to anyone else, could she? Miranda was determined to find Commander Shepard. She would do anything she had to do.

…

"So…" Garrus looked a little sheepish at the start of the team meeting. "You were all correct. The Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack are in negotiations to take us out."

"Gonna be a little harder with their armories destroyed," Butler said, grinning as he high-fived Sensat and Vortash.

"Yes, your little sub-mission went off without a hitch," Garrus said dryly, crossing his arms. "Though you might have considered mentioning it to the rest of us."

No one deigned to reply—they knew they would do it again if they could.

"Next step, we are breaking into their higher encryptions. We need to sow discord and mistrust between them. Keep them from teaming up. Maybe give them enough of their own problems to keep them busy, problems that they won't assume are our doing." He looked around. "Weaver, Erash, I want you on those encryptions. Everyone else, think about how we can create mistrust and keep them busy once we're in."

With that, the team went their separate ways. Some of the cheerfulness seemed forced, Shepard noticed. They were all a little afraid. They'd been one step ahead of the mercenaries before. If they did manage to team up, that could mean real problems for Archangel's crew.

Death was a possibility any day on Omega, and doubly so for anyone who went up against mercenaries and slavers. But today death felt just a little closer on their heels than usual.

…

One thing Shepard liked about how Garrus run things, was that she had access to all the information. There was no "need to know". She could just hop on a terminal and look at everything they'd collected. A lot was boring and useless, but she had found something that interested her.

Mordin wasn't the only one with suspicions about where the plague originated. The Blue Suns thought the plague in their district was a warning from the Collectors, meant to scare them. Meant to show what the Collectors could do to them if they didn't get what they were owed.

And what they were owed was her. Shepard. A soldier in a crate. A resurrected woman.

She still didn't know why they wanted her so badly, and that scared her.

Shepard looked up from the desk when Garrus stepped inside the bedroom door. "Let's go shopping," he said with a grin.

A distraction was welcome. She stood up from the desk. "For what? Do we need more weapons?" She thought to their well-stocked armory.

Garrus came close and pulled Shepard into his arms. "You and I need something nice to wear." He kissed her. "For a date."

Shepard's eyes lit up. "A date?"

He laughed. "Yes. I realized I've never taken you out, and that's a tragedy. Omega does have a few places here and there, some little secrets that are nice for couples."

Her fingers stroked down his back. "I'd rather know all of your little secrets, Archangel."

The breathy, low way she spoke gave him shivers, but he wouldn't be deterred. "After, my love. Afterwards. First…" He took a step back. "Shopping."

As he went out the door, she couldn't help but grin and follow. A date!

…

Strolling through the shopping district was the kind of nice and normal thing Shepard had rarely done. She and Garrus pointed out oddities and laughed, stopped to look around and tried on outfits for each other.

"Blue really is your color," she told him, her eyes devouring him where he stood.

Garrus couldn't help but think red was hers. From the curtain of flaming hair to the blood-red stripe on her N7 armor, he'd always thought of her in red. When she pulled a red dress and a black dress, he knew which to choose before she tried either of them on.

"I'd love to see you in this," he said, subvocals rumbling at the thought of her creamy skin contrasted with the vivid fabric. In a moment, her lips were on him. The salesperson had to clear her throat several times before they separated.

After finding everything they needed, they returned to the base to get ready. Mierin and Melanis whisked Shepard away to be styled and made up.

"You can't just get ready together," Mierin insisted. "You need to make an entrance. Let his mandibles hit the floor."

Shepard liked the sound of that visual and submitting willingly to their ministrations, though neither of them was willing to attempt styling her hair.

"It's perfect as it is, anyways," Melanis said, stroking down the length of it. "I've always thought human hair is so pretty, and this color is really unusual."

"You're ready," Mierin said, brushing a last bit of powder over Shepard's nose. "He's going to lose it."

Shepard squeezed both their hands in thanks and went to find her date.

When he saw her, he gaped. "You are…" he trailed off. "I'm speechless."

"I clean up well," she said smugly. "So do you."

He shook his head. "It's more than that. But if I get started, we might not make it to the restaurant."

He led her down winding paths, on a skycar ride, and into what looked like just another warehouse. Inside was like another world.

She couldn't see the ceiling, only a projection of shining stars. Omni-candles were lit around the room, giving the space a warm glow. The wealthy of Omega, such as they were, surrounded them, at tables divided by sparkling barriers for privacy.

"It's beautiful," Shepard said in surprise. "How did you find this place?"

Garrus smirked. "You can find just about anything if you know where to look. Let's get our table."

The meal was made up of delectable little morsels with complicated names that Shepard would never remember. There were easily a dozen courses and half as many glasses of wine. Garrus rubbed her leg under the table. Shepard's senses were aroused, that was certain.

The asari waitress, in a shimmering gown as black as night, had just gone to get their desserts when Garrus's omni-tool chimed.

He frowned as he raised his arm. "I'm a bit busy at the moment," he said as he answered the call.

"Boss!" Sidonis's panicked voice came across the line. "I need you! Blue Suns have got me!"

Shepard felt a frisson of fear. None of them had been in that situation before, and she had a soft spot for Sidonis. He was so young and looked up to Garrus with more than a little hero worship.

Garrus went still. "Send your location. We'll come for you, just hold on."

Shepard could see, as the line went dead, his map pop up with a ping. He met her eyes. "Are you packing?" he asked.

"Always," she said. Her fingers itched for the pistol in her thigh holster. "Let's go."

…