Drifting

"And so, it is said, you are haunted.
My friend, we are haunted all."

-Isabella Banks

David stood in the expansive office with mixed feelings of uncertainty and anxiety flowing through his veins. For the hundredth time the twenty-five year old human wondered just what he had gotten himself into. He was not entirely convinced that the man sitting with his back turned to the young man was not instead a devil in human form; after all, when the person that David was looked at pictures of the person he used to be, it was hard to believe that he hadn't sold his soul.

My reasons were good, he told himself, as he always told himself when such thoughts wormed their way into his head. Over the past few months, he had done a good job of burying those feelings under a mound of emotional numbness, but every once in awhile a seed of doubt would still try to blossom.

My reasons were good, he repeated.

David had been contacted the day before by a man who would not give his name. He simply stated that the time had come to 'pay back the favor'. That was all David needed to hear to understand. He was told that there would be a shuttle waiting for him at dawn and his lack of appearance would be greatly frowned upon. David was at the station hours before the shuttle even landed.

He was 'greeted', for lack of a better word, by a tall man with dark skin and hard gray eyes that looked as though laughter hadn't touched them in years. The moment he stepped onto the small passenger ship, the man shoved a black and white uniform into David's arms with a pair of boots sitting on top.

"Change," the man said, and then walked off.

David unfolded the neatly pressed clothes and looked them over. He wasn't too surprised to see that the outfit would perfectly fit him. With a sigh, David began to strip, thinking of how he had stepped out of one jumpsuit and into another.

He did not see the man again until they landed several hours later. Walking back into the room, he gathered David's clothes, folded them up nice and neat, and then presented him with a strip of black cloth.

"Tie this across your eyes. Make sure you can not see a thing. If I have reason to believe otherwise, I'll knock you unconscious and drag you to our destination myself."

He took the blindfold willingly enough, but did not immediately put it on. "Is all of this really necessary?"

"You are an outsider and can not be trusted. You may remove it after we have reached the offices."

David didn't like the idea of walking into the unknown blind, literally, but what choice did he have? There was no where to run to now and the dark skinned man was nearly twice his size as well as armed. While David had built up his body significantly over the past two years, he highly doubted that he could take on this man in a bare knuckle brawl.

It all could be a trap, he supposed, but it didn't seem likely. If his only surviving enemy had caught up with him; an assassin bullet to his back seemed more likely than anything this elaborate or theatrical.

With one last look at the man before him, David closed his eyes and tied on the blindfold. If this did turn out to be a trap, than so be it. Death, no matter how slow or cruel, would be preferable to whatever lie ahead.

A strong, meaty hand wrapped around his upper arm and began to pull him forward.

"Come," the man said, "and consider yourself honored. After all, not many are graced with the opportunity to speak face to face with The Illusive Man."

It took all of David's willpower no to fidget. Even without The Illusive Man's eyes upon you, there was still a presence about him that inspired unease. In on hand he held a cigarette which he would take the occasional puff from and in the other; a glass of scotch.

"Mr. Bastian," he greeted in a casual 'we're-all-friends-here' tone that David did not believe for a second. "I assume your trip went well. I must apologize for the security. I know it may seem irrational, but as you must understand a man such as myself must be careful about whom he chooses to trust."

David crossed his arms, trying not to let his insecurity show. "Can we skip the pleasantries? What do you want from me and why am I dressed like one of your goons?"

"Strait to business, I see. Very well. You are 'dressed as one of my goons', as you so eloquently put it, because for all intents and purposes, you are one." David opened his mouth to object, but The Illusive Man raised his hand as if had been expecting this protest. "Only temporarily, I assure you. I have some work for you and once it is complete you will receive your final payment."

David's hands clenched into tight balls, causing his knuckles to first turn red and then white. "Why won't you just tell me where he is? Why are you making me play this game?"

"Because the information you requested from me was not bought cheap, as you well know. I gave as much as I have as a sign a good faith, but I am not a charity, Mr. Bastian." The man paused long enough to take a drag from his cigarette. "If you want the rest than you will have to earn it."

"And if I say no?"

The Illusive Man shrugged. "Such is your right. No one is forcing you into this. You are more than welcome to walk away at any time. However," he took another drag. "Should you choose that path, than I can not guarantee that the man you are after might not find out about your relentless pursuit. Nor can I guarantee that an. . .anonymous source may not move this man into such heavily protected custody that he will never be seen again."

"You wouldn't dare," David hissed.

"Dare what, Mr. Bastian? I'm simply giving a possible outcome of your decision; to help you make up your mind."

His shoulders dropped and he felt all of his anger pour out of him like water down a drain. He was trapped. He knew it and the bastard sitting before him knew it. David had signed himself up for this the moment he agreed to talk with Cerberus.

"What do you need me to do," he sulked.

The Illusive Man turned around in his chair, his hands cupped loosely together and a hint of a smile touching his lips as he asked; "Are you aware of a man named 'Shepard'?"

Several days later David was sitting on a bench just outside Illium's spaceport dressed in the Cerberus uniform and with a fresh haircut and shave. He looked young, professional, and completely unremarkable; just as The Illusive Man planned.

"I will be informing Shepard that I am assigning a new engineer to his crew," he said. "Don't worry, I'll make it clear that you are not to be used for any assignments that may arise."

"It's not like I'm helpless," David protested.

His 'employer' nodded. "I'm aware of that. Your escape of the Citadel speaks volumes for your survival instinct, but I'm not in the habit of taking unnecessary risks. You're no good to me dead. Besides," The Illusive Man paused, inhaling from his cigarette and blowing out the smoke before continuing. "You need to be my constant eyes and ears aboard the Normandy. You are to remain generic, plain, easily glanced over. I can't have Shepard thinking I've sent him anything other than someone to. . .lighten the load, shall we say. If he becomes aware of your combative skills then questions may begin to arise." He blew out a final puff of smoke before stamping out his cigarette, his eyes never leaving David's. "I can't have that."

"Won't he be suspicious of the one random crew member you've suddenly added?"

"Not at all. I've been slowly filtering in non-essential crew for some time now in preparation for your visit. Shepard will have no reason to suspect you than he would anyone else aboard the ship."

"Just how long have you been planning this?"

His only response was a devious smile.

David sighed and ran a hand through the messy hair that would soon be cut. "Why use me at all? I would suspect someone like you would have that ship completely wired."

"I need that human element," The Illusive Man replied. "I suppose that's not surprising to hear, coming from me. Bugs and wire taps only see so much and can be easily broken. The salarian alone has already disassembled a small fortune worth of spy equipment. No, I need you to pick up on the subtleties that the cameras, or what remains of them, may miss."

"Than why not contract one of your men already on the Normandy to do this or hire someone trained in espionage?"

"As long as my people are under Shepard's command, they are security risks. As for hiring an actual spy. . ."He shrugged. "Not preferable. To anyone else such an assignment would just be another job, and jobs can be done sloppy or abandoned completely. That is where you come in. You're in a unique position, Mr. Bastian. For you failure does not come at the cost of a lost wage or termination. No, for you, failure means losing something important to you. The only thing that has been important to you for the last year."

"You don't know a thing about me."

The Illusive Man smiled. It took all of David's willpower to not race across the room and wrap his hands around the man's neck. "Whatever you say, Mr. Bastian. Whatever you say."

The sound of footsteps descending down the hall awoke David from his memories. They were coming from the spaceport and headed his way. David had thought he saw a ship docking while he was lost inside the world of his own head, but he hadn't been sure until now.

Standing from the bench, he tucked a gray folder that had been resting by his side under his arm just as the doors slid open and a Commander Shepard stepped though. He looked just the pictures, but David always thought he'd be much taller. . .

In truth he had expected someone from the ship to come and grab him, but not the Commander himself. David figured the man would be far too busy to worry about the newest peon being added to the ship, yet here he was. David was thrown off of his game, momentarily, but quickly managed to recover.

As the two men walked to meet one another, he took a deep internal breath to steel his nerves and thought: Well, here we go.

David stopped a few feet short of the Commander and offered a strong salute with his free hand before reciting the lines he had written for himself and practiced in his head over and over again. He thought they sounded good; very 'mindless professional'.

"Sir, David Bastian reporting, sir. May I say what an honor it is to be assigned to a man of your caliber, sir."

Not bad. I should have been an actor.

"I appreciate the thought, but this isn't a military operation," Shepard said with a raise of his hands and a soft smile. "There's no need for those types of formalities."

"Oh. O-of course. My apologies." Once again David had been thrown from his stride. Just as he never expected the man to come greet him himself, he had also not planned on Shepard being, well, friendly. What he had expected from the stories that he had heard was something closer to The Illusive Man; someone who was cold, cruel, poisonous. He could have worked with that. Friendly, however. . .friendly was going to be a problem.

David suddenly remembered the dossier tucked under his arm. Bouncing back as fast as he could manage, David took the folder and handed it over.

"For you, Commander. I was told you would need to review this."

The dossier contained a signed transfer order from a facility that did not exist by a man that was just as fictitious, as well as several pages containing falsified information about David's 'time with Cerberus', his skills (which was one of the few truths in the papers), and suggested placement. The Commander skimmed over the few pages and nodded in satisfaction.

"This all looks in order," Shepard said, offering a hand to David. "Welcome aboard the SSV Normandy, David."

"Thank you, sir," he responded, shaking the hand offered to him.

"I'll give you some time to unpack any personal items you have and get familiar with the ship. Be sure to introduce yourself to Ms. Tali'Zorah on the engineering deck. You'll be reporting directly to her."

After the handshake, they had started to walk back to the ship, but now David found himself stopping dead in his tracks. "That name. . .that's quarian, isn't it?"

Shepard came to a stop as well and eyed the young man suspiciously, his tone suddenly sounding much more intimidating. "Yes, it is. Will that be a problem, Mr. Bastian?"

"N-no. Of course not, sir. Just curious."

"If you have any qualms with non-humans, I suggest you leave them behind you. Cerberus might be funding this operation, but they do not control it. I won't stand for a 'humanity-first' mindset aboard my ship."

"I understand, sir. There won't be any problems."

"Good," Shepard responded and offered a small smile to show that the matter was behind them. It was a smile that David easily returned, but did not in the least bit feel.

A quarian. A quarian that he would be working along side with in close quarters. David hadn't even stepped foot aboard the ship yet and already things were going wrong.

Well, he thought. At least it can't get any worse.

"I don't understand," David said as he skimmed through Shepard's dossier. It had been uploaded to a specialized omni-tool provided for him specifically for this mission. "If you've spent all this time and this money on this Commander Shepard, than why the secrecy, the distrust?"

"I'm suspicious of everyone," The Illusive Man responded as he lifted his scotch, gently swirling it in one hand so the ice clinked against the glass. "It's one of the ways I've remained in power for so long."

"I can see why you're so interested in this guy," David commented as he read through Shepard's personal history. It was almost as if he was destined for greatness since birth; his childhood, his accomplishments in the Alliance, not to mention becoming the first human Specter. It was all so unreal.

"Humanity needs a man like that. He's our greatest hope against coming storm."

"Afraid he'll refuse to work with you?"

"Oh no. Shepard may not want to admit it, but he needs Cerberus. Without our funding and information networks, he would be stumbling around blind; it's what comes after, that concerns me."

"Meaning?"

The Illusive Man lifted his drink to his mouth and downed the glass. "Shepard will play ball for as long as he has to, but he's a wild card. He's already proven himself too idealistic for his own good. Worse; he's an alien sympathizer. I need to know exactly where his priorities lie. That is where you come in. Keep an eye on the Commander and his crew. Inform me of any important details that may arise. Should Shepard surprise me and turn out to be loyal to our cause, than so much the better, but if my personal suspicions are correct, than you are to uncover any form of. . .leverage that might be needed to steer the Commander back on the right track."

"And by 'leverage' you mean 'blackmail', right," David asked without really asking.

The man sitting before him raised a hand as if dismissing the claim. "Call it whatever you wish, Mr. Bastian, just as long as the work gets done."

David shifted on his feet, not liking the way The Illusive Man's words sat like a stone inside of his stomach. "This doesn't feel right. . ." He confessed.

"Perhaps," the man said as he lit a fresh cigarette. "But you are no more worthy to comment on morality than I."

There was a short pause as David worked to silence what small part of his conscious that still remained. "And if I do this for you," he finally asked, "we're done, right? I get what I need and then we're done?"

The Illusive Man took a drag from his cigarette. "Correct. I am many things, Mr. Bastian, but not a man that goes back on his word. Do what I have asked of you and you will be paid with the last of the information you've commissioned. What you choose to do after that is none of my concern. So, do we have a deal?"

There was another moment of silence as a part of David's mind asked him if he really wanted to go through with this. There was still a chance to walk away. He could pick up what pieces remained of his life and just walk away, that part of his brain that was either cowardice or reason told him. It wasn't yet too late.

Except it was. It was too late from the moment he made his first kill in cold blood. He could kid himself with the illusion of 'choice' all he wanted. In the end there was really only one way to go.

"Yes," David said, "We have a deal."

The days passed and David integrated into the Normandy's small, but respectful crew perfectly. For a short while he was 'the new guy' but it was a title didn't take long to fade as he sank into the background, just like he wanted. David was polite, but not openly friendly; hard working, but not an overachiever. He never stayed in one place for too long, never became too close to one person, never did anything to make him stand out from the dozen others like him dressed in identical black and white suits, yet all the while as he played his role David was listening. A small ship was a lot like the small colonies he was familiar with; word always got around and no secret was ever a secret for long, not if you knew who to stand around and when to listen. Everything of importance went into his omni-tool; names, dates, personal observations, and not all of it about Shepard. David made it a habit to learn as much as possible about the essential squad members Shepard chose to surround himself with.

Miranda and Jacob were among the first of his crew, and rightfully so. Both were highly skilled in their fields and had earned their spots in this mission through years of blood and sweat. Still, they were Cerberus, and thus there seemed to be a bit of mistrust among the 'freelancers', as David labeled them in his mind, and much of that distrust seemed to be pointed at Miranda directly. David certainly didn't blame them for that; she was The Illusive Man's 'go-to girl' after all. She was intelligent, shrewd , and not too different from the man she worked for, as far as he could tell, yet even she wasn't aware of David's true purpose aboard this vessel. David made it a point to stay away from her whenever possible. Someone of her experience and personal intellect would only need a passing glance at his dossier to see that it was a fraud. Luckily, she didn't seem to take much interest in the 'peons'. As long as he kept on doing what he was doing, David thought he could continue to fly under her radar.

Mordin was the first non-human crew member to be brought aboard the ship. He was a genius in his own right and talked about a mile a minute, but the man had probably forgotten more about science and tech and just about anything ending with 'ology' than David would ever know. Mordin mostly stayed locked inside of his lab all day, usually had his meals brought to him and only taking a break from his work when directly brought on a mission with Shepard. He might have slept at some point, but David had certainly never seen it.

His only direct conversation with the salarian came when David first joined the crew. Like everyone else he was given a general health exam to check for any serious or contagious illnesses that could affect personal or crew performance. Most of their conversation, if it could be called that, was the generic 'stick out your tongue and say 'ahh'' kind of thing, but David managed to insert a little personal conversation which he hoped sounded casual enough.

"I'm surprised at the extent of your knowledge of our physiology, Professor. I don't think I've had human doctors that knew half as much."

"Comes with position," Mordin absently remarked as he checked David's blood pressure. "Am familiar with the inner workings of many species; human, turian, volus, krogan."

"Yeah, but it's still amazing. If you don't mine me saying, I'm surprised any non-humans would even consider the idea of working with Cerberus, let alone agree to it."

"Will go where needed-hold still, please-where probability to do greatest good highest. Peer opinion irrelevant. Currently suffering from any aches or pains?"

"No," David answered.

"History of specific disease in family?"

"Nope."

"Have in engaged in sexual intercourse within past two months with any species: human, asari, vorcha?"

"No, I- wait. Vorcha," he asked, not sure if he had heard correctly.

Mordin shrugged. "Happens."

As the days passed and David spent more time on the ship, he began to realize that life on the Normandy was not too different than colony life at all. There was a kind of 'small-town' mentality that was hard to escape. Everyone knew one another and worked together to keep the giant metal can that was keeping them alive as they floated through the vastness of space in working order. Now, that didn't mean that everyone got along. Miranda and Jack (the super-biotic psychopath with the million tattoos and skimpy top that lived in the bottom of the ship) were at each others throats on a near daily basis. Most of the time their fights boiled down to little more than a few poisonous words, but sooner or later the day would come where the fists would begin to fly and that time came, David severally hoped to be in a completely different solar system. The fact that Shepard was able to keep them in line was nearly awe inspiring. For the most part, though, everyone seemed to get along well enough and, despite his own reservations, David couldn't help but take a liking to some of the people that had taken up residence; Garrus for example.

David had seen the turian around a handful of times, but had never found a good excuse to talk with the man, or rather; to dig for information, until one night during dinner. Meals aboard the Normandy worked about the same as a cafeteria. Mess Sergeant Gardener had set the hours which breakfast and dinner would be served with several 'light snacks' that could be picked up and eaten at any point between meal times. The Crew ate in unassigned shifts which were usually based upon when you were hungry, how critical your current project was, and whether or not you could find someone to cover you. Still there were 'dinner rushes' where the small cafeteria would be more crowded than normal and it would be during these times that David would try to plan his meals. The food and casual setting had a way of loosening lips, and he could almost always overhear something interesting.

Of course, such finer acts of espionage came with a risk; his was trying to keep down the cooking. Now David was as used to bland and tasteless food as the next guy, but when you closed your eyes and couldn't tell if it was the mashed potatoes, peas, or beef you just popped into your mouth, then there was a serious problem.

One day he found himself sitting down to dinner later than he was used to. Despite what his true purpose might be, there was still actual work that he had to do and, for what it was worth, he took it seriously and did it well. Today was one of those times where he became a little too engrossed and found he had lost track of time. In fact, it wasn't until Miss Zorah approached him and asked if he had eaten yet that David became aware of how late it had become and how hungry he was. She told him to run upstairs and grab a quick bite, the work would hold until he got back. David thanked the young woman and headed for the elevator, trying not to let the hard pang he felt in his heart show on his face.

There were about fifteen minutes left of Gardener's 'dinner hour' (an ironic name since it actually lasted for three) and everything still edible had been taken leaving David with very little to pick through.

After filling his tray with what he thought he could keep down, David took a seat at the mostly empty table. Looking at his food as if it were something he scraped from his shoe, the young man cut off a piece of what he hoped was Salisbury steak.

"Please be edible," David chanted under his breath. "Please, oh please, oh please be edible." He popped the piece of meat into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "Damn it."

"Well, looks like you're having fun," a voice said from in front of him. Looking up he saw the turian, Garrus, take a seat just across from him. There was a metal tray in his hands similar to the one sitting before David expect the food upon it was completely unidentifiable to him. "Is Gardener's cooking really as bad as I hear?"

"Worse," he responded, poking at the meal.

"I'm suddenly very happy about the whole dextro acids thing, then," the turian said with a short chuckle. "Get my meals delivered in bulk. Homemade, you might say."

"Wanna trade?"

"This stuff would probably kill you," Garrus said as he swirled was looked like short, red spaghetti noodles around on a fork.

David motioned down to his own food. "So could this."

"Hey, this ain't no cruise line, kid," Gardner called from his station. "If you don't like the grub, than starve."

David looked back at Garrus and smiled. "Ooh. Tempting."

They shared a small laugh before going back to their respective meals. Silence settled over them; the only sounds coming from the ship, the few people moving about around them, and from the kitchen where Gardener was washing up. For awhile, David toyed with the idea of just taking today off from the spy bullshit, maybe just pretend that he really was a legitimate and deserving part of this team, if not for a few hours, but it was an idea he could only briefly entertain. He was so close to the end of his journey now; so close to the person he had spent the past year tracking from one rat hole to the next and with every day that passed his feelings of anxiousness grew, becoming harder and harder to ignore. No, he was going to have to get to his real job here, and the sooner he got what was asked of him the sooner he could put this all behind him before he had the chance to fully accept the wickedness of his actions. Still, it didn't make things any easier.

"So," David spoke up, breaking the stillness. "I've heard rumors that you and Miss Zorah served with Shepard on the original Normandy during that whole 'rouge Specter' thing about two years ago. That true?"

The turian nodded. "Seren? Yeah. Funny to think that was only two years ago; feels. . .much longer than that."

"But you came back again. Why?"

Garrus looked across the table at him with an inquiring look upon his face. "What's with all the questions, kid?"

"Morbid curiosity, I guess," David responded with a shrug. "I hear the other crew members talking sometimes about Collectors, and Reapers, and geth. They make this sound like a one-way trip."

"Possible."

"Right, but you served with Shepard before. You have to know better than anyone what we're up against, so why jump back into it? I mean, are you really that loyal to Shepard or just suicidal?"

Garrus gave a snort of laughter. "A little from column A, a little from column B."

"Come on, I'm serious."

"So am I," Garrus said, but David just stared him down, waiting for some kind of real response. The turian sighed a little and shook his head. "Shepard's a good friend. Let's just say he opened my eyes to a lot of things and I owe him for that, alright?"

"Okay," David agreed, popping a spoonful of watery cream corn into his mouth. In his head, the young man was already making out the notes he would type up later in private. From what he had gathered from Garrus' files as well as first hand accounts, the turian was fiercely loyal to the Commander. Any decision Shepard made, he was almost sure to follow whether he agreed with the man or not and would most likely die defending him if necessary. Personally when David thought of the already existing friction between humans and turians mixed with the near-impossible odds that Shepard and Garrus had already survived before Cerberus came into the picture, he found the fact that such solid a friendship could be created between the two all the more impressive.

"-you here?" he heard Garrus say.

David looked up from his meal. Not expecting to have been spoken to again, he had lost himself to the details he would later write in his report.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said; 'why are you here'? It's only fair that I get to drill you for information now."

"Oh, there's no story there," David lied. "Nothing you'd want to hear."

"Humble, but not true. Come on, if you weren't good at what you did, you wouldn't be here. Despite my personal feelings for Cerberus I will give them this; they know talent when they see it."

For a moment, the young man was at a loss for words. He was treading into dangerous waters. Let the wrong thing slip and everything could come crumbling around him like a house of cards. "I'm just an engineer. I was assigned here and. . .that's about it."

"Come on now. I think we both know that's a lie."

David's blood froze cold inside of his veins even through his heart was now running at triple pace. Did the turian suspect something? Was it possible that, despite how careful he had been, David had somehow given himself away at some point? The young man's mind began to race. What if Garrus went after him? He was currently unarmed and the turian easily outweighed him inside of that armored suit. Even if he did somehow get away, where could he go? He was trapped out in the middle of nowhere.

"What do you mean," David asked, surprised at how relaxed his voice sounded.

"How old are you, kid? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?"

"Twenty-five," David corrected, wondering where this was going.

"So by your species standards, you're just barely an adult, right?"

"Right. . ."

"Okay, so than here's my question; what compels a young human who probably has a good hundred years left in his life to agree to join up on a suicide mission? And don't say it was because you were ordered to. That line might work for turians, but your species? No offense, but humans don't have quite that level of public servitude."

David couldn't help but breathe a soft sigh as relief flushed through his body like a drug being pumped into his brain. For now, at least, he was still in the clear.

How does anyone make a living doing this crap, he asked himself.

"It was just something I felt I needed to do," David responded. "Something I had to do. When you really have something worth fighting for, it's hard to dwell on the consequences."

"There we go," Garrus said. "Now, doesn't that sound better than 'I was told to'?"

"I. . . yeah. Yeah it does."

David stood up from the table and took the metal tray in his hands; most of the food was still untouched.

"Done already," the turian commented and he began to go back to his own meal.

"Yes," David said. "I'm not very hungry anymore. . ."

David had kept notes of various lengths of the men and women Shepard brought aboard the Normandy. There was the hired mercenary, Zaeed and the tank-breed krogan, Grunt, both of which would provide little in the way of The Illusive Man's desired 'leverage'. There was the drell assassin, Thane, whom David had yet to speak with. The man lived an even more sheltered life aboard the ship than Mordin. Most of his time was spent inside the life support chamber, and whenever he did emerge for meals he always sat alone and with his back towards one of the walls. It was hard to tell if the man was unfriendly or just private.

An asari Justicar and human thief, Samara and Kasumi, also rounded out the cast and were both people David actively chose to avoid. The asari pretty much made her living hunting down and killing people like him and the less aware of his presence she was, the easier he would breathe. As for Kasumi, well, she reminded him a little too much of himself; always sneaking around, always listening, never really saying anything when she spoke. There were far too many red flags for the woman to pick up.

For the most part David respected the crew that had been assembled on the Normandy. Even people like Jack who, frankly, scared the hell out of him commanded at least some bit of trust. Yet, a lot of that changed with the arrival of 'Legion'. By some logic or madness David did not understand, Shepard had decided that it would be a good idea to not only bring a geth aboard the ship, but to activate it as well. David had only seen the bucket of bolts a handful of times around the ship, but whenever it did it brought back too many bad memories; fear, claustrophobia, the overwhelming feelings of dread and panic. Shepard knew what the geth were capable up just as much as anyone else, perhaps even more, and if he activated this 'Legion' than it must be for good reasons. Still, David didn't trust it and never would. Between turning on the geth and releasing the krogan (both actions done without any possible knowledge of their outcomes) the young man had come to think that Shepard was either an overly-trusting man, or a foolishly brave one.

Bravado or naivety aside, one thing that never failed to impress was the way Shepard managed to not only keep this assorted crew of killers and psychos in line, but as time went by each in turn had become very loyal to the commander. He had begun to understand just what The Illusive Man had meant when he said that humanity needed Shepard, because there was no one else; no human, or turian, or asari, or whatever, that could achieve the level of respect that he did. The fact that he was being forced to work with a group like Cerberus at all was disgraceful. The Council should have been hanging off of every word that the man had to say, not dismissing him like a madman raving on a street corner like they had.

The people who are supposed to be protecting us are throwing us aside, and in their absence the terrorists are acting as our guardians. David once thought to himself as he reread the notes he had stored on his omni-tool. My god, these really are the end times.

Yet out of all of the people David found himself working with each day, the one who's presence he found most enjoyable yet at the same time the hardest to endure was Tali'Zorah. The young quarian was sociable, as most of her species were, but she was also very kind, gentle, and highly intelligent. Much like Legion, the girl often awoke memories and feelings that David would have much preferred stayed docile, but unlike the geth these thoughts were reminiscent of a more bittersweet time in his life; times that changed him, first for the better and then. . .

David often found himself catching glances of her out of the corner of his eye as he worked, thinking of how similar Miss Zorah was from the girl he used to know. Not exactly the same, of course, but the parallels were there and were strong enough to often make him upset. David tried to work it so they wouldn't speak more often than was needed and when they did it was short and professional like discussing specific tasks she needed completed or tests she wanted done, yet despite the formal-ness David found he couldn't quite look her in the eye. It had been so long, but he still didn't have that kind of strength.

At first, the young man had worried that being assigned to one of the lowest levels of the ship would make for little opportunity to do his actual assignment, but this turned out not to be the case surprisingly enough. Shepard seemed to always find an excuse to go down to the engine rooms, sometimes to ask questions of the ships status from himself or from Ken and Gabby, but eventually he would ways find his way over to Miss Zorah and while their conversations started quite casual at first, as the days passed David began to notice something between the two; there was a tone in the Commander's voice that David never heard for anyone else, the way Miss Zorah would shift on her feet and ring her hands together. David began to wonder if there wasn't something more than a friendship developing.

It wasn't too long after that those suspicions became confirmed.

The Normandy's shielding had received one hell of an overhaul not long ago and while it would do wonders from this ship from ending up like the predecessor it was named after, it also caused energy bleeds as the ships engines tried to sort through the sudden increase in electrical power. David had done what he could to try and even things out and while it was yet to become a huge issue, it was still one that needed to be repaired and was just beyond his know-how. He had gone to find Miss Zorah and run the numbers he was getting by her, hoping that she could make sense of it all, but when he stepped into the engine room he found it strangely empty. He knew where Gabby and Ken were, he'd seen them upstairs in the mess hall a few minutes ago, but Miss. Zorah was almost always at her station. He had poked his head a little further into the room, thinking he might find her at one of the other consoles, but found nothing. A feeling came over him; the one that you could only say in French as David stepped a little further into the room. His head filled with bad memories of an overcast night, cool breeze, and tall grass. Something strikes his foot and when he looked down to investigate. . . David was snapped out of his trance, suddenly becoming aware of voices drifting down from the engine core; muffled but audible. Moving closer, trying to stay as silent as possible, David made his way towards the noise.

"-died on Vermire," Miss. Zorah was saying, her voice tender, sad, filled with longing. "I've watched you for so long and I never imagined you'd ever see past. . .this."

David dared to take a few more steps in. He knew what he was doing was bad, but at the same time this could have been just the break-though he had been looking for.

"Tali, if you're scared I don't blame you, but I don't want anyone else. . .I want you and I'll do whatever it takes to make this work."

He peeked around the corner as Shepard spoke, watched as the man reached out and took the girl's hands in his own. The softness in his voice, the look in his eyes; it was beautiful, pure, and painfully familiar. . .

They were sitting next to one another on the shuttle; dirty, tired, bloody, but alive by some sort of intervention either lucky or divine. Her head was turned down slightly and she was ringing her hands together. He was looking right at her, though. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"David," she finally said; her voice much more quiet and meek than he had ever heard before. "Being with me, with any quarian, it's. . .it's not easy."

"I know," he said.

"There would be a lot we couldn't do; a whole lot, and I don't just mean. . .you know. Even the simple stuff; a caress on the cheek, a soft kiss. . . keelah, David, we couldn't even share the same stupid meal! This can't work. There's-there's no way. People who go through stressful situations together often develop strong emotional bonds, but. . . but those feelings never last and. . .and then. . .damn it, stop looking at me like that! You're not making this easy!"

David, a much younger David, a more innocent David, a David who had yet to make his first real kill, smiled. He lifted his hand and brushed it across the soft fabric of her veil. She stiffened at his touch, but didn't stop him.

"I once heard that being with a quarian wasn't easy, but you know what? The best things never are."

The young man ducked his head back behind the wall and made his way out of the engine room as quietly as he had come in. He could hear Miss. Zorah talking; nervously stumbling over her words, but David didn't need to listen to any more; he couldn't. Out in the hall, he opened up his omni-tool and began to write his last set of notes;

'While Shepard has developed a fierce loyalty with each member of his crew, officer Lawson included, it seems a strong personal bond has grown between himself and the quarian; Tali'Zorah vas Neema, now under the name Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. While it is unknown just how far this romantic entanglement will go, or how long it will last, all logic would indicated that the best way to control Shepard-'

David paused, unable to go any further. His hand felt as if he had turned to stone. Could he do this? Could he really go through with it after everything he saw?

For a moment the young man almost deleted the notes, to hell with The Illusive Man. But then he thought of that last person he needed to find; still out there, still breathing; free to continue with his wicked life as if the sins of his past would not be avenged.

David typed one final sentence into his omni-tool:

'The best way to control Shepard will be through the girl.'

My reasons were good, he told himself again.

The words rang hollow.

The days turned to weeks and David did nothing with his data. Deadlines came and went without him reporting in. David began to feel sick and tired almost all the time. His apatite was basically non-existent and the hours he should have sleeping in the crew quarters were instead spent staring at the metal walls. He was constantly at war with himself; his exhausted mind rationalizing his actions one minute and then condemning them the next.

His work and appearance began to suffer. Over the past few days David started to get dark rings under his eyes and he would make simple mistakes with his repairs, often causing him to have to do back and redo hours of work. His emotions were killing him, yet he could do nothing but sit on the files he had collected, unable to submit them, yet unable to destroy them. No matter how hard he worked to conceal his problems, it was only a matter of time before someone caught on. Perhaps it was only fitting that that person was the same as the one causing the majority of his convictions.

"David, can I speak with you for a minute," Tali had asked him one evening as he crunched though numbers that his brain could not seem to put together.

"Hm? Oh. Yes. Of course. What can I do for you, Miss Zorah?"

"I'm. . .concerned. The quality of your work lately as been. . . how can I put this. . .troubling. David, you're making too many mistakes, some of them extremely vital. When I compare this with your past performance, it leads me to suspect that something is wrong."

"Everything is fine, Miss Zorah. Really."

"No, it's not. Maybe you're not aware of this but quarians have become skilled at spotting illness."

"It's nothing," he insisted, uncomfortable with concern he heard in her voice. "Just a little stress, nothing I can't handle."

"Prehaps you should go speak with Kelly. She might be able to help."

"I would really prefer not to. . ."

"Well we need to do something. You can't keep going on like this. Listen, if you're worried about the mission, I can understand. You're being asked to sacrifice a great deal, we all are. If you need to talk about it and aren't comfortable with Ms. Chambers, than I'd like you to know that it is perfectly alright to speak with me."

He found himself floored by her words. David knew all too well about the history between Cerberus and the quarians, as well as Tali's own personal feelings on the matter, but the fact that she would still make such an offer, whether it was sincere or not. . .

"You. . .you would really do that, Miss Zorah?"

"You're a member of this crew and, more importantly, you are one of my engineers. Look, as far as I can tell you don't seem like a bad person even if I have concerns about your choice of employer. No one is making you do this, David. If you're having doubts, serious doubts, than we can have a talk with the Commander, maybe see about getting you a transfer."

It had been so long since anyone had shown him that level of kindness, of concern. Her words, her interest; it was too much. He couldn't do this. He couldn't be this person. He would tell her, he would tell her everything; the lies, the notes, the betrayal. Whatever became of him afterwords, he would accept, but if it meant being free of all this. . .this guilt, than even execution would be preferable.

David opened his mouth, ready to spill the truth about everything that he had done, when three short, toneless beeps rang from his omni-tool as if on cue. Against his better judgment, David looked down to see that he had received a message. It was encoded, but the young man knew perfectly well who it was from and what would say.

The Illusive Man wanted to talk. Immediately.

He had made some pathetic explanation and excused himself from the room. Moving with same anticipation as a criminal marching down death row, David made the trek from the lowest level of the ship upstairs to the debriefing room. Mordin was so engrossed with whatever project he was working with as David passed through the lab, that the man didn't even look up. He probably wouldn't have noticed the young man's presence unless David waved a hand in front of his face.

"EDI, open up the communication line between the Normandy and The Illusive Man, please," David ordered as the door slid shut behind him.

"I am sorry Mr. Bastian," the AI responded in its female voice. "But you do not have the necessary clearance to-"

David opened up his omni-tool and read off the code that had been provided to him before his arrival. "Authorization Override: 4-H 8-C 3-R 3-A"

There was a paused that lasted for several seconds. When EDI's voice returned the tone had changed to that of a monotone sleepwalker. "Confirmed. Channels opened. Scrubbing recent memory data," it said and then was gone.

The table that stood in the middle of the room began to lower to the floor. Once it slid into place, David stepped into the ring it formed on the ground and waited patiently as the necessary scans were made. A few short moments later the ship around the young man disappeared, replaced with the holographic image of an unwontedly familiar office and the man that worked within.

"Mr. Bastian, so are still alive," The Illusive Man said. "I had started to worry."

"I'm sure you were all broken up."

He ignored the young man's comment. "Perhaps than you can explain to me just I have stopped receiving your reports."

"I've been busy," David said. "There's a lot of work to do around here and I-"

"I'm not interested in your excuses. What I want are results. Maybe you're forgetting that I am the one doing you a service here, not the other way around, therefore; you work around my schedule. Are we understood?"

"Look I can't-"

"Are we understood, Mr. Bastian?"

David lowered his head like a beaten dog. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, what information do you have for me?"

David bit down on his lower lip, unsure of what to do. A moment ago he was ready to spill his guts to Miss Zorah and would have done just that if not for The Illusive Man's timely call. Now he wasn't so sure again. Time, as well as the man's patience with him, had grown very short. When he had arrived on this ship, David was set to deliver the information asked of him. He wasn't happy about it, but he would do it. But now. . .being here, seeing the things Shepard did for his crew, talking to the people on board, and most of all; hearing Miss Zorah's kind words and seeing the relationship she shared with the commander. . .would it really be worth putting it all at risk, to put his own needs before the lives of all of these people; people who were risking their lives in what would surely turn into a suicide run to save a galaxy that had labeled them as terrorists and loons? They didn't deserve this. Not Shepard, not Miss Zorah, none of them. David didn't know if he was finally coming to his senses after all of these months of near non-stop roaming and killing or if he was simply too cowardly to see things through to their end, but whatever the case, David realized that he couldn't. He was neither that strong nor that wicked.

"No," he lied, his voice just over a whisper.

"You disappoint me, Mr. Bastian," the man said. Even as a hologram, his eyes seemed to burn into the boy. "You better find something and soon. If you ever want to see your payment, get me the leverage I need to control Shepard."

With that said The Illusive Man cut the feed; sending David into a world of darkness that faded away and left him standing in the middle of a mostly empty room once again. David rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He had hoped that there would be relief now; some sort of assurance from his mind that this choice was the correct one, but there was nothing. He no longer even felt ill. Now. . .now he was just empty inside; hollow and tired. All he wanted to do was find an empty bed in the crew quarters and sleep for the next fifty years.

Turing around and thinking that he might go do just that, David found himself face to face with the deadly end of a pistol.

"How dare you," Tali said, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal. "How dare you!"

David had no idea just when the woman had stepped into the room or just how much of the conversation she had heard, but the look in her eyes and the poison in her voice told him that she had heard enough; and the gun in his face was a pretty big hint as well. He had been caught, but if he could explain his actions, make her see that he had never had a choice like he was going to say to her before, then he might be able to fix things; make them right again.

"Miss Zorah I-"

"No! Shut up," she commanded. "You don't get to speak, not after everything you've done! I can't believe I felt sorry for you. I should have known better. Cerberus. You're all the same. You're a monster."

David cringed at her words as if they had physically hurt him. He supposed that, in a way, they did.

Never taking her eyes off of him, never allowing the gun to waver, Tali brought up her free hand up the side of her helmet about here the ear would be.

"Shepard," she spoke into the communicator. "I need you to come to the debriefing room." There was a slight pause as the man asked a question that David could not hear. "Please, just hurry." With that said, she brought her hand back down to the pistol.

"Please just let me-"

"Shut up," she cried at him. "I can't believe that anyone could sink so low. After everything the commander has done for us, for all of the galaxy. . .you've seen the things he's sacrificed! You know how important this mission is, but you didn't care! You better pray the commander is more forgiving than I am because if he instructs me to shoot, believe that I will not hesitate."

David closed his eyes, his hand touching something small and metal from the outside of his pocket. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's far too late for that," Tali replied, mistakenly thinking that David was speaking to her.

Several seconds later he heard the sound of the door opening and closing. Peeking out from behind his eyelids, David saw Commander Shepard looking back and forth between himself, Tali, and the gun. There was a look of confusion upon his face.

"Tali? What's going on here," he asked.

"He's a spy, Shepard. I saw the sudden spike in power coming from his room at my counsel. When I came to check I found him talking directly to The Illusive Man. He's been placed here superficially to gather information on you, Shepard, to find a way to keep you under The Illusive Man's control. I told you we couldn't trust Cerberus!"

Shepard turned his eyes towards him and David could literally feel the weight of his stare. The man's face gave no hint of what he was thinking or feeling and somehow David found this more troubling than the gun that was still pointing at him.

"David," Shepard said. "Is this true?"

The young man dropped his eyes, unable to meet the man's gaze, almost looking like a child being scorned by an upset father. "Yes."

"What do you want to do with him, Commander?"

Shepard crossed his arms, looking at David as if he were a complicated puzzle rather than a living person. "He's too much of a security risk to keep on board, that's for sure, but this raises a very disturbing question about who else might be acting as a mole."

"There's no one else," David said, his line of sight still trained on his shoes. "Just me. You. . .you command amazing loyalty from your crew, Shepard. Everyone on this ship, they know the hazard, but they're still willing to fight. I really don't think anyone else could have united these people together like you have; worthy goal or not."

"If you really feel that way," Shepard spoke, "than why do all of this?"

"I. . .I had to."

"Liar," Tali called. "I heard The Illusive Man talk of payment. It's just an act, Shepard. He's in this for credits."

"It's not money," David tried to correct.

"Than what? What were you promised? Power? Was that it?"

"No."

"Than why? Why would you betray us?"

"For revenge, okay," David screamed, filled with an explosion of anger and self-hatred that he had no idea dwelled within him. "I'm doing it for revenge, are you happy now?"

"Against me," Shepard asked. Where as Tali had jumped slightly at the boy's sudden outburst, Shepard still remained the definition of serenity.

"No, not you," David replied; once again sounded fatigued and helpless. "It has nothing to do with you. I. . .I'm sorry that you got dragged in my problems, Shepard. You and Miss Zorah."

Tali looked over at the commander. "I don't think we can trust him, Commander. What if he's still trying to fool us?"

Shepard seemed to ponder this for a minute before finally turning his attention back the boy. "Tell me the story. All of it, but keep in mind; I'll know if you're lying." His tone near the end was almost threatening.

David sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. His story. . .it wasn't a pleasant one and he didn't even know where to start.

Well that's simple enough, he brain said; half joking, half serious. Start at the beginning, and when you get to the end; stop.

Taking one more deep breath for good measure, the man opened his mouth and began the tale of how his once boring and simple life had spun so far out of control.

"My folder and everything in it is a lie," David explained. "I'm not with Cerberus, not really. Two years ago I worked maintenance on the Citadel. Basically if anything needed to be patched, or repaired, or cleaned than I was one of the guys who got called in. The hours were long and the work was often. . .unpleasant, but it paid and it was a living, you know? I was there when Saran and his geth attacked the station.

I had been inside some of the air ducts for several hours trying to repair the damage done by the Duct Rats; children who play inside of the vents. It all happened so fast. One minute everything was normal and then the next. . .there were gunshots, screaming, sounds of. . .of panic and chaos. We were one of the first wards attacked. No one had time to evacuate or run or. . . it was a slaughter."

"Than how did you survive," Tali accused.

"Like I said; I was inside the ducts. The geth didn't see me, but I saw them. I watched as they cut people down of any age or species, it didn't matter. They just kept shooting. Some even tried to surrender, but. . ." David shook his head, as if trying to clear the memories out. "Anyway, I waited until it was safe as things were going to get before I ventured out of the ducts. I knew the layout of the station pretty well then. I figured that if I stuck to the back allies and side streets then I could get to the spaceport. I was holding on to the slim hope that there were still evacuations going on. It was while I was sneaking around that I. . .ran into her."

The young man began to reach into his side pocket. Tali, who had lowered her weapon at Shepard's request after David began to talk, suddenly raised it again. David hesitated, but only for a moment. She wouldn't shoot unless directly ordered, at least he didn't think she would, and he was going out of his way to make sure his moments were slow and steady almost as if he were dealing with a pack of wild animals.

Inside of his pocket, the young man's fingers wrapped around one of the two personal items he brought aboard the ship. While the other he kept inside of his assigned footlocker, this he carried with him at all times and had been for a long time.

"Here," David said, holding out a holo. Shepard motioned for Tali to lower her gun again, advanced several steps, took the device, and turned it on. A moment later a miniature image to two people, arms loving wrapped around each other's waists, floated above his palm. The man was David; young, smiling, dressed in casual clothes and sporting messy brown hair in bad need of a trim. The young woman David held was quarian. She was about his height and wore an envirosuit of blacks, dark pinks, and light reds. Bright, intelligent eyes shone from behind a mask the color of dusty roses.

"Without her I never would have survived. Her tech, her skill. . .it saved our lives out there."

Tali moved closer to the image, studying it. He couldn't see Tali's expression, but there was something in her body language that suggested familiarity with the girl in the picture. "David, what was her name?"

"Rin," he said, not missing the fact that this was the first time Miss Zorah had used his name since finding him here. "Rin'Leer nar Rayya."

"nar Rayya," Shepard repeated. "Tali, that's your birthship, right? Did you know her?"

"Yes, a bit. She and I were friends when we were younger. She left on her pilgrimage shortly before I did."

"That's why she was on the Citadel," he continued. "She was looking for work to purchase a gift to bring back to your fleet, but that places is already so full of techs that trying to find work in that field. . .it's kinda like throwing a message in a bottle into a sea made entirely out of messages in bottles."

"And I suppose being a quarian on top of it didn't help her chances," Shepard said.

David gave a quick shake of his head. "Not at all," he said before returning to his story. "I don't know how many people made it out of those wards alive, but it wasn't many. After going through all of that, after nearly dying a dozen times over, Rin and I we. . .we drew close. I. . .I guess we kinda just. . .fell in love. The wards were practically destroyed by the time the attack ended and help arrived. She didn't have any reason to stay and I had suddenly found myself homeless and unemployed, so when Rin went back on her pilgrimage journey, I sort of tagged along."

The young man smiled slightly, his eyes growing distant as he remembered their trek from colony world to colony world and starship to starship. It had harsh, sometimes dangerous, but never boring and he didn't regret a second of it. They were memories that he wouldn't trade for all of the money in existence.

Shepard spoke up, raising David from his daydreams. "I thought the Pilgrimage was supposed to be done alone, how is it fair for Rin if she brings along help?"

"It's not like I was babysitting her, Shepard. She was always a. . .very willful girl. If there was something she really wanted than she would get it; one way or another. I was just along for the ride. Besides, if she was able to inspire the loyalty of a non-quarian during her Pilgrimage, than would that really be looked down upon?"

"Quarians are not required to do everything on their own," Tali explained to the commander. "If we find our Pilgrimage is taking us someplace particularly dangerous than it's not uncommon to hire an armed escort. While it is best to prove that you are willing and able to do whatever is needed of you with your own skill, we're no good to the Flotilla if we are killed."

"Exactly," David said with a small gesture of his hand. "Besides after awhile the traveling became less about finding a gift and more about. . .well. . .the thrill of it all. I don't think Rin ever really wanted to go back to the fleet and spend the rest of her life slaving under the command of some captain." Both Tali and Shepard gave him a look. "Oh, no offence. Like I said; Rin was a spirited girl. She was smart, kind, gentle, but she had a wild streak in her. She wanted to be out there among the stars; traveling and adventuring, but she wanted it on her terms. As for me. . .I just wanted to be with her. It didn't matter if we were sitting inside of some cramped cargo hold or lying in cot underneath some planet's night sky. I was happy."

Shepard held out the holo and David took it back, holding it as gently as if it were brittle and could break at any moment. Looking at the picture, he couldn't help but to feel overwhelming joy and love, but with it came a bitter aftertaste. It had been a long time since he'd last looked at the holo. It just hurt too much, he found.

They had seen some amazing things, met incredible people, and lived a life the young mechanic often dreamed about, but never thought he'd actually do.

"For a long time we went from one ship to another; traveling with whoever would give us a lift and staying with any colonies that would take us in. We weren't free-loaders though, don't think that. Between her tech and my mechanical skills we always found work to do and often managed to walk away with a few extra credits in our pocket. It was hard, but it was heaven."

David crossed the room to the far wall. Leaning his back against it, he allowed himself to slide down to a sitting position on the floor all while still looking at the holo in his palm almost as if he was speaking directly to it.

"She showed me her face once," he reminisced. "We had been planning it for weeks. We scrounged up all of the money we had saved up and used it to buy top-shelf antibiotics. We took every precaution. We wanted it to work. . ."

Rin paced the back and forth in an arc. She had compiled a list onto her omni-tool of every necessary step needed by a quarian looking to pursue a more 'physical' relationship with an outside species and she was not checking this list for the hundredth time as David sat in his underwear on their cot.

"If you're not careful, you're going to make a hole in the floor," he said.

"I'm glad you're able to so easily joke about something that can kill me," Rin snapped causing David cringed as if struck. "Oh geez, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just-"

"Nervous," David finished. "I know. I am, too. Look, Rin, if you don't want to do this; if you're even the least bit unsure. . ."

Rin shook her head. "No. No, I want this, David. I. . .I want you. I want you to know what I look like. When you put your arms around me, I want you to know the face of the girl you're holding."

Pushing himself up off the bed, he crossed to the girl. Gently, he place one hand around her waist and the other behind her head. "If we're going to do this, I want it to be for the right reasons. I already know you're beautiful, Rin. There's nothing you have to prove."

She placed her hands on the side of his face, running her fingers over the rough surface of the stubble he'd not yet shaved. "I love you, David."

Rin was a wild girl, a spirited girl, and often a hard girl to be around, but in these moments when she would lower her emotional walls and show him the person that waited just behind the sarcastic words and harsh stares, David thought his heart would just brust.

"She was sick for over a week," he told them. "Near the end I finally had to drag her to a hospital and I only got her there because she was too weak to fight back. I was scared. I thought I might have killed her despite all of the precautions we took. That was the first and the last time I ever saw her without her suit. . .she really was beautiful. She. . .she really was." David suddenly snorted a quick burst of laughter and shook his head. "Hell, you don't want to hear about that. Sorry, I'm getting off track. When it comes to Rin I kinda tend to 'go drell'. Once I start thinking about her I can't seem to stop."

Tali nodded slightly. "I understand. I had heard that Rin never returned from her Pilgrimage. I never imagined that she might have found something she wanted more than finishing our people's right of passage. Until. . .recent events I never would have believed it was possible. I suppose I had always thought something had happened to her."

"Something did," David muttered.

"You've proven your point. If you don't want to finish, I won't force you," Shepard said, breaking the silence that he had been holding for some time.

He thought about the offer for awhile, seriously considered it, in fact. In the end, though, it was a tale that he wanted to tell, perhaps even had to tell. He had allowed the memories to fester and rot inside of his heart and head for a long time and look at where it had gotten him.

"No," he said. "I need to do this. I owe you that much."

The rest of the story would not be easy to tell and even harder to recall, but not because the memories were faded. Quiet the opposite; David could remember almost every moment he had shared with the quarian; both good and bad. They were coming up to the worst.

David snapped the holo closed, shutting off the image.

"We'd been on this freighter for a couple weeks," He told them. "The captain needed extra security for a cheap and we needed a place to sleep and eat. We traveled with them as the ship made pickups and deliveries to several remote colonies outside of Council space; easy enough work, no big deal.

Anyway, we eventually stopped at this tiny mining colony way out in the galaxy. I don't think there more than thirty, thirty-five people in that entire place. As the crew was checking the engines and running some maintenance procedures, Rin and I decided to take a stroll around the camp. No harm in a little exploring, right?"

David gave a laugh with absolutely no humor behind it.

"So as we're walking around this settlement, not really looking for anything in particular, just enjoying the chance to stretch our legs, when we came upon this old minimal-crew spacecraft, the kind that only requires one or two people to fly, sitting behind one of the equipment sheds and Rin; her eyes just lit up- er, no pun intended. What I mean to say is that she was excited; like 'kid at Christmas' excited. . ."

Rin ran her hand over the rusted old ship, stirring up a small cloud of dust and dirt. "Keelah. Look at this thing. It's incredible."

"Rin, it looks older than us combined. What's the big deal, anyway?" Understanding suddenly bloomed inside David's head, answering his own question. "Rin; no. No way."

"It's not in too bad of shape," she commented.

"No."

"It just needs a little paint,"

"No."

"Some new wiring,"

"No."

"Maybe a little engine work. . ."

"Rin!"

"It would be great," she said and David just knew that she was smiling behind that mask. "We could have the whole galaxy to ourselves, to explore as we saw fit! Think of it; no more hitching rides from place to place; going only where we are taken, no more working our fingers to the bone, no more sleeping in cramped cargo holds-"

"Yeah, now we can sleep in a cramped cockpit."

"Come on! Where's your free spirit, your sense of adventure?"

"Look at this thing, Rin; it's almost solid rust! It would have to be completely rebuilt."

"Well, luckily for us," the girl said, moving towards him until her body was just brushing against his own. "I'm a quarian and you're a genius. We can do it."

She always knew just how to manipulate him. Still, he pathetically tried to put up a fight.

"I really don't think. . ."

"Please, David?" She placed her hands on his shoulders and turned her head up slightly so her eyes were looking into his. "Please?"

"I . . .okay," he agreed, unable to say no to those eyes. "But only if we can find its owner and only if we can get it at a reasonable price."

Rin closed the last few inches of distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you, David" she whispered into his ear in a mixed tone of sincerity and slyness. "I knew you'd come around eventually."

"So the freighter left and we stayed behind. I can't even recall how long we spent working on that ship. There was always something that needed to be replaced, or rewired, or fixed, or changed; hell, I thought it would never end, but I have to admit. . .I enjoyed the challenge. I mean, I bitched and moaned constantly, but I really did have fun.

Rin loved that ship. Every time she looked at it she would get this gleam in her eyes that said that she was already millions of miles away, flying through the depths of space with a ship to call her own. She even picked out a name. She called it 'Tilla'.

"Tilla," Shepard repeated.

"Short for 'Tiny Flotilla'. That's that she said it was going to be; our own personal Flotilla."

"Did you ever finish," Tali asked.

The faint smile that had worked its way onto David's face now faded away. The cold, stone look that replaced it made it appear as if the joy had never been there to begin with.

"I did," he said. "But that was after."

"After what?"

"She died," he whispered.

David brought his hands up to his temples and rubbed them as if he was getting a headache. For the most part he felt surprisingly okay; a little drained and physically exhausted, but had had thought the memories would have held a sharper sting. Of course, as much as he would like to believe that the first steps of healing might have begun, there was a larger part of him that knew that this was the numb before the real hurt could kick in, and sooner or later it would. Even though there came a time where all emotional wounds ceased to bleed, there were some that never healed.

"There wasn't any room for us inside of the colony, hell there was barely enough room for the people who actually lived there, so we slept inside the equipment shed on the outskirts of the camp, the one Tilla was parked behind. We were used to sleeping in cramped conditions, so a few blankets laid out on a metal floor wasn't a big deal. Besides, I think Rin liked sleeping so close to the ship; 'our child', she would sometimes call it."

David shifted uncomfortably from where he sat on the ground and swallowed back a lump that had grown in his throat. So far he had managed to hold himself together fairly well, but he knew he needed to tread carefully from this point.

"It was often cold inside that shed and always drafty. One night I rolled over, meaning to pull myself closer to Rin. Those suits don't really do much for sharing body heat, but. . ." David shrugged. "Anyway, I reached around, but couldn't find her. After a few minutes I opened my eyes and in the dim glow of moonlight that shone through the cracks in the walls I saw that I was alone. I sat up, looking around the room, but she wasn't anywhere. So I stepped outside the door and. . ."

The moonlight lit the world around him in a faint blue glow as it when it rolled out from behind the clouds and draped it in velvet blackness when it slid back in. A soft wind blows through the night air stirring the leaves on the trees. It's cool, but not yet cold. However, there is no doubting that the temperature has dropped since they first arrived on this planet. They were going to need to find someplace warmer to sleep before long or finish the work on Tilla within the next few weeks.

That was then an idea struck him; Rin must have been behind the building with the ship. They were so close to finishing now, just a few more repairs and they would be ready to take to the skies. Rin was becoming antsy to get moving and if David had to guess, he'd say that she was probably having trouble sleeping and decided give 'their child' another look. David chuckled to himself as he walked around the shed, thinking that if she wasn't careful David just might start getting jealous, but as he came around the corner, he was stunned to see their solitary child and nothing else.

"Rin," David called softly as he made his way towards the ship, looking around in all directions. "Rin are you out here?"

There was no response.

Now the young man was starting to get nervous. If she wasn't inside their makeshift bedroom or out by the ship, than where else could the girl be at this late hour?

He called a little louder, but to no response. Now he was passing from nervous to panic; his imagination reeling with a thousand horrific scenarios all of which seemed completely improbable, yet at the same time all too possible. He cried out her name again, this time not holding back on the volume.

Circling the ship, trying to see everywhere at once, David's foot kicked something hard lying on the ground, causing it to skip across the overgrown grass and come to rest a few feet ahead of him. Moving carefully, David headed towards the thing lying before him. He could see it clearly in the moonlight, yet he could not make sense of it. His mind, still groggy from sleep, told him that it was something that he had seen before, that he knew well, but simply refused to place it.

Closing the distance between himself and this unknown yet familiar thing, David bent down and touched its cool, smooth surface. His fingers gripped its edges and lifted out of the unattended grass. Holding it up to his face, David saw moonlight shine off of a mask that's glass covering was the color of dusty roses.

His body went numb; his eyes wide with terror, and when the wind picked up it brought goosebumps across his skin, that and something else: a sound from the north. It was very faint, but very close. It was the sound of quiet sobbing, and it was Rin.

"Rin," cried out as he headed towards the noise with her suit's faceplate in hand. "Where are you? What's happened?" There was a shape in the distance; darkened in the shadows of the thick forest that stood around it and by a moon that had gone back into hiding. The figured stirred and seemed to look up at him. "Rin, is that you? What's wrong?"

The figured looked over its shoulder at something that seemed to be hiding just out of David's sight. He should have saw the motion, should have understood it for what it was, but he was too scared, too confused to do anything but keep pressing forward.

"What is it? What's going on?"

"David," The figure screamed, Rin screamed. "It's a tra-"

The sound of a rifle shot cuts through the night air like thunder from the heavens, and David is quickly and violently thrown off of his feet by invisible hands. He hits the ground hard enough to make stars burst before his eyes. Rin screams, but only for a second. There's a sound of flesh smacking hard against flesh and her voice is cut off.

The young man tries to get up, not knowing what is happening or how he has ended up on his back looking up at a partially cloudy night sky, but he can do no more than raise his head before a burst of white hot pain rips through his abdomen. His eyes are wide and he's gasping for air, each breath a little harder coming than the one before. His insides feel like they're burning and the taste of copper fills his mouth.

The wind has stilled for the time being, but there is rustling from the trees and bushes around him. A moment later five shadows gather around and looked down at their target. From above them all, the moon slides out from the clouds and illuminates their faces; two humans, a batarian, an asari, and a vorcha; each wearing matching black armor that blended in with the night. David looks up at them. He does not know it at the time, but he is marking their faces. He allows each one to burn into his memory where they will stay as clear as a photograph.

The batarian upholsters his pistol and levels it with David's head, but before he can squeeze his finger around the trigger, the bald human with a dark goatee standing next to him pushes the gun away.

"No," he says. "Let him bleed out. I want them to suffer."

"What about the girl," the batarian asks.

The human smiles, his white teeth shine in the dim light and for a moment David is reminded of a character named the Cheshire Cat from a story his mother once read him when he was young.

"Like I said; I want them to suffer."

The faces start to blur as the world around him losses color and focus. He can still feel the cool, tall grass pressing against his neck and arms, but the pain is gone now and he feels like he falling while still lying still. There is no way to fight the feeling. He wants to, but it's simply to strong. The young man closes his eyes and gives in to the darkness. The last thing he hears is Rin.

She's screaming.

"I woke up several days later in a hospital bed," David continued. "I was weak and bandaged, but alive. The colonists had heard the noise and came to investigate. By then those people were gone and I was still clinging on to life, though just barely. My doctor said I was lucky. If I had been hit an inch to the left or right I would have died in minutes. That wasn't luck, though. That was where the sniper wanted the bullet."

"What about Rin'Leer," Tali asked. "Was she. . ."

She didn't finish the question, and for that he was thankful, but none the less David found he couldn't answer it. He cast his eyes down to the floor and gave a slow shake of his head from left to right.

Tali crossed the room and knelt down before him. She holstered her gun and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Reaching up, David touched the hand and offered her a weak smile in thanks, grateful for the act of comfort she had given. When she stood up, the young man did the same. There was nothing to be gained from sitting on the floor against the wall like a homeless bum, even if that was what he technically was.

"Who were those men," Shepard asked after the young man had been given a moment to compose himself. "Raiders? Thieves?"

"A little of both," David answered. "They're a merc group, or they like to pretend to be at least. In reality they're no better than raiders; taking whatever they want, killing anyone that gets in their way. They call themselves The Void."

"Never heard of them."

"I'm not surprised. They're not the Eclipse, or Blood Pack, or anything. They may like to act like a gang, but they have no where near the numbers or equipment to be even half as good. The pry on non-military ships and deep space colonies; anyone who's weaker than them. They would never go near someone like you, Shepard. They're ruthless, but they're cowards."

Shepard crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels, trying to make sense of it all. "So were they there to attack the colony, or was it the shipment that you landed with they were after."

"Neither," David said. "Well, probably neither. The colony was about the right size for one of their raids, but as far as I know no one else was attacked and the shipment we brought with us was just normal provisions: food, water filters, medical supplies; some of which was used to save my life, ironically enough. There was nothing there that they couldn't have gotten elsewhere and in larger bulk. No, this attack, it was personal. Rin and I, we've. . .run in to The Void before."

"What happened," Tali asked.

"That's a long story. Let's. . .just say it was enough to make them track us halfway across the galaxy and leave it at that."

Tali nodded. "I understand."

"David," Shepard spoke up in a softer tone, "I'm sorry, about all of that."

The young man wave off the apology with a flick of his hand. "Don't be. There's nothing you or anyone else could have done."

"So then, how did you go from all of that to working with Cerberus?"

"I'm not working with them, Commander. I'm being blackmailed by them."

"After leaving the hospital I got in contact with the Alliance, they were the only people I could think to call. I thought they would help, but instead I was told that this was not a 'military' issue and there was nothing they could do. They gave their sympathies and said that they would keep a look out for The Void, but. . .I could smell the political bullshit from a mile away. They weren't going to help. No one was; one dead quarian? Who the hell cared?"

"Why not get in touch with the Migrant Fleet," Tali asked him. "If you would have contacted the adamantly board, if you would have explained-"

"Miss Zorah," David calmly interrupted. "I may not be quarian myself, but being with Rin, I tried to find out as much about your people as I could. Can you honestly tell me that the board would have done anything better? Honestly?"

There was a moment of silence as Tali looked away.

"I could stand here and lie to you both by saying that I wanted justice. Maybe in a way I did, but I think we all know that's not the whole story. What I really wanted, what I needed, was revenge. I was hurt and I was angry, and I decided that any sacrifice I had to make would be worth the reward, but first I needed to find The Void, so I went to the place that everyone goes when they need information; the Shadow Broker. After some searching I managed to come into contact with one of his agents. As it turns out, no one ever speak to the Broker in person."

"Yes," Tali said with a glance in Shepard's direction. "We're aware."

David nodded as if he understood before pressing on. "I talked to the agent and told him that I needed every bit of information I could get on The Void. I wanted their names and current locations as well as any personal info I could get dug up. The agent agreed that all of this was possible, and for one moment I thought I would finally get the relief I wanted, but then he started talking about price. I had spent the last two years of my life roaming around ships and colony worlds. Before that I was fixing broken fuse boxes and unclogging toilets, I didn't have anything the Shadow Broker could possibly want and what little credits I had left. . ."

David shook his head. "I sort of just. . .drifted for awhile, just me and Tilla. I finished what little repairs there were on my own. She wasn't pretty, but she flew. . .and she was the closest thing I had to Rin. I started to try and track down The Void on my own. Hell, if I ran into them once, why couldn't I do it again, I thought. The galaxy is a big place, Shepard. There are a lot of places a person can hide.

For I don't know how long I just went from one place to the next, searching and looking and asking questions, but it was all aimless. That was until I heard about this asari on Illium; she was making a name for herself as an information dealing, but here was the thing: she didn't work for the Shadow Broker. As insane as it sounds, she actively opposed him. . .and was doing a damn good job. So, I made my way to Illium. A beautiful place, but way too far out of my price range. I remember thinking to myself that another information broker, even one that was independent, was going to be a long shot. . ."

. . .but it was also the only shot he had. He had already gone to everyone he could think of for help, but was turned down at every bend and his own private investigation had done nothing but waste time and increase his frustration. That left his choices as either giving up and letting five monsters go free to continue their destruction, or put his trust in some stranger he had never met. The second option was not preferable, but the first was unthinkable.

David made his way though the Nos Astra trading floor. Around him thousands of people came and went; buying, selling, and trading, gaining and losing fortunes in the blink of an eye. It was a daunting to think of how much money passed through this place, perhaps even a little disturbing. The revenge business was one thing, but a lifetime as a stock broker? That was a horror David would never survive.

Pushing his way through the crowds, the young man finally found the landmark he was looking for; a digital sign reading 'ADMINISTRATION' by a stairway that headed up about half a floor. Taking the stairs two at a time in long strides, David came upon a desk resting at the top of the stairs from which an asari sat behind. The woman noticed his presence and glanced up at him. Even before she spoke, David had come to the conclusion that this was the secretary rather than the broker.

"Yes," she said pleasantly enough. "May I help you?"

"I have some business with the information broker."

"Do you have an appointment?"

David blinked. "I- no. No, I didn't think-"

"I'm sorry, sir, but in order to speak with Miss T'Soni you'll need an appointment, but before that you must first prove that you can provide payment for services rendered." The woman looked David up and down, taking in his hair and clothes. "Which I highly doubt you could do."

"You don't understand," he persisted. "This is important."

"I'm sure it is, sir. Perhaps when you are able to pay for our services you can- Hey! You can't go in there!"

David had been stonewalled for the last damn time. He had tried playing nice and he had tried playing fair and so far it had done nothing for him. Rin's death was already a tragedy, but he refused for it to become an insult because of politics or secretaries or appointment books, or whatever else. David would talk to this broker himself, he decided, and headed for the door halfway through the secretary's brush-off.

"Try and stop me," he shot back as he stepped through the doorway.

The office itself was about what David had been expecting: a large and expensive looking desk sat before a pair of arm chairs for the clients. The walls were decorated with an assortment of fine works of art and a number of plant life dotted the room to add some greenery to the environment.

An asari woman (Miss T'Soni, he presumed) sat behind the desk. She appeared to be going through a large stack of files until David entered the room. "What is the meaning of this," she asked as she stood from her chair. David was shocked at how young she looked. He had been expecting a matriarch as an information dealer, not someone who was barely an adult by her people's standards. Well, whatever. It didn't matter if she was one hundred or one thousand, just as long as she was useful.

"I'm sorry for bursting in ma'am," David started, knowing that he had precious little time to plead his case. "I'm in desperate need of your help. If you'll just give me a moment-"

Before he could finish his speech, David felt a force close around his body and lift him off the ground. It was as if the hand of God had reached down and plucked him from the earth. Straining his neck, David could see the secretary standing just inside the room, her right arm held out before her and a faint glow around her body as she held the man in air with her biotics.

"My apologies, Miss T'Soni," she was saying. "I tried to tell him you were unavailable, but he refused to listen. I'll get rid of him now, my lady."

"Please," he begged the asari standing before him. "I don't have anywhere else to turn! I can't let them escape! They murdered her and I can't let them get away!"

T'Soni rested a hand on her chin and looked at him as if she were studying something under a microscope. "Put him down," she finally said in a tranquil voice.

"But my lady, he-"

"Nyxeris, put him down and return to your desk."

"I. . .yes, my lady."

The biotic field around David's body suddenly vanished and the young man found himself falling back to the floor. Landing on his feet, David just managed to catch himself on one of the chairs before he could topple over."

"I apologize for my assistant," Miss. T'Soni said as she slid back into her own seat. "She is new and still cooping with the way I choose to run my business. Now, what was it you were saying Mr. . ."

"Bastian. David Bastian. Does this mean you'll help me," he asked as he took one of the chairs across from her.

"It means that I will listen. I promise no more than that."

David nodded. It wasn't much, but it was a start and certainly more than he had gotten from anyone else. Mentally crossing his fingers, David began to explain about the Citadel, Rin, The Void, and the things they did.

The asari watched him as he spoke, her chin resting on her cupped hands. Every now and then she would nod at something he said, but would make no comment of her own.

"And that's it," David finished. "That's the story. Do you understand why I have to find them?"

For a moment Miss T'Soni said nothing and the young man felt his stomach knot up into a tight ball. Finally, she lifted her head and allowed her hands to drop back to her desk. "What will you do when you find these men, may I ask?"

David briefly considered lying to the woman, telling her something about brining them to justice or some such crap, but he didn't see the point. He could tell that she had already made up her mind one way or another and nothing he said from this moment on would change that. Now the question was; was she getting information from him for their deal, or was she merely humoring him; playing with him a little before kicking him out? He supposed he would find out soon enough.

"I plan on killing them, ma'am. Maybe quick, maybe slow. I haven't decided yet."

The asari looked at him for a moment longer before sitting back in her chair and nodding as if in agreement with something he said.

"I am still building my network of contacts. It will take some time to track down these men. In the meantime I will have Nyxeris find you a room here in Nos Astra. I will contact you once I have the knowledge you seek."

For a moment David was stunned stupid. He had come here fully expecting another brick wall, but it seemed that maybe, just maybe, he had finally found the break he needed so badly.

"T-thank you, ma'am, I don't know what to say. . .I. . .I'm afraid I can't offer you much in the way of credits, though."

"We can discuss the matter of payment later." A small smile touched her lips. "But as I said; this information will take some time to track down. By the time I have something for you, I might have completely forgotten that I have not been remunerated, if you. . .'catch my drift'?"

"I. . .yes. Thank you," David said, once again taken aback by the woman's kindness. "Can I ask you something? Why are you doing this for me? It's not that I'm ungrateful, I just. . .don't understand.

The woman stood from her chair and turned to face the window behind her that overlooked the trading floor, but not before he saw a look of desolation come over her face.

"You. . .cared for this girl, yes? You loved her?"

"More than I can say."

"A tragedy befell someone you loved and you are willing to do anything to make it right again. I can. . .sympathize."

David leaned against the debriefing room's table, idly running his hands over its wooden finish. "Three days later I was summed back into Miss T'Soni's office, but the news she had for me was not what I wanted. Basically she had procured a list of names and where The Void was often spotted, but could not nail down a precise location. I was almost right back where I started."

"What do you mean by 'precise location'?" Tali asked

"Miss T'Soni managed to lower the ring of search, but the place she tracked them to. . .it wouldn't have done much good to look."

"Out of curiosity," Shepard asked. "Where was this place?"

David looked over at the commander. "Omega, but trying to find one specific criminal there? I can't even think of an analogy for how impossible that would be. 'Needle in a haystack' doesn't even begin to describe it."

"But that still doesn't explain how Cerberus is involved," Tali said.

"That. . .was Miss T'Soni's idea, actually. She said that if anyone would have the resources I needed, than it would be them. If I wanted, she could set something up, however she also warned that the price would be steep. I knew she didn't mean credits.

Ultimately, I asked her to make the call. I had heard about Cerberus before; rumors involving the awful things that they were accused of doing, but I didn't care. If it meant avenging Rin I would've worked with the Devil himself. I. . .guess that's what I did, huh?"

David began to walk the length of the table, back and forth, as he talked. At the time of doing these things he was still blinded by his lust for revenge. It was only now that he actually spoke of his actions out loud did he understand how desperate he had become, how addicted to the idea of death. Of course, there was also that saying about hindsight having perfect vision.

"I'm not sure what that woman did or said that caused Cerberus to agree to help, but she wasn't lying about the cost." David looked from Shepard to Tali and back again, sighing deeply. "No, she wasn't lying about that. Of course, I was never told what would be expected of me until it was time to do it, nor was I forced to pay upfront." David gave an ironic smile. "You know, the more I think about it, the more it sounds like I'm talking about a red sand addiction."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I was allowed to get hooked and fall too far in before being asked to pay. Apparently not too long ago The Void had pulled off a massive score, for them at least, and for the time being they had split up to spend their credits on booze and drugs and cheap asari whores. One by one, locations were filtered down to me and one by one I found and killed them, striking their faces from the picture in my mind as I went. Some of them fought back, some ran, some begged for their life, but I killed them all. I wasn't always. . .humane about it, either."

Trying to suppress a shiver that wanted to work its way up his spine, David pushed the memories of some of the things he had done out of his head, but they would come back. They always did; usually as he slept.

"Finally there was only one name left; Reiner, their leader. The same guy who wanted us to 'suffer', but this time Cerberus refused to give me anything. They said that the time had come to 'earn my pay' and. . .well. . .I guess you know the rest. That's basically how I ended up here."

There was a long silence that seemed to stretch on for hours as Shepard only stood there, watching him, measuring him. David's fate was now in the commander's hands. He used to be so terrified at what would happen to him if he were caught. The idea of failing, of Rin's spirit never resting easy, it disturbed him. She was a exquisite, magnificent soul and what happened to her. . .it was a travesty, blasphemy, yet no one could or would help. David wasn't a warrior. Everything he knew about fighting came from either his own trial-by-fire experience or the knowledge that Rin had gained before her Pilgrimage and then passed along. David went towards each target knowing full well that he could, and probably would, be killed. Dying for his cause was something he thought he could accept, but dying because he had been discovered doing someone else's dirty work? He would not let that happen.

He liked Shepard, he really did. Shepard and Miss Zorah and nearly everyone else aboard the Normandy, but if they tried to stop him, he would fight back. At one time he was afraid, but now that he truly stood at those crossroads between forgiveness or damnation, David found that the fear was gone and in its place there was this odd, almost placid calm.

Shepard spoke up at least, breaking the stillness. The commander looked directly into David's eyes, his voice filled with that authoritative tone that said 'I'm the man who gets things done'. David would give The Illusive Man one thing; he knew exceptional aptitude when he saw it.

"So," Shepard said. "You mentioned something Omega, right?"

The music was loud and all consuming; the deep rhythm seeming to reverberate in his very core as he and Shepard walked down the short hall. The walls were digital screens projecting the image of burning flames and soaking the room with a heavy red tint. As the passed through the second set of doors and into the club itself David was greeted by the biggest holo he had ever seen. The massive tube-shaped projection stood two stories tall in the center of the room and showcased vids of beautiful asari while the real version danced provocatively around on floating platforms. All around them men and woman drank, danced, and fondled one another inside of the club's dome.

Afterlife, this place was called. The young man thought the name was very precise.

"Shepard, I appreciate you not shooting me out of the airlocks and all," David said, having to shout over the driving music. "But you don't have to do this. It's my problem; I should be the one to solve it."

"You're a member of my crew, David," the man called back as they pushed they way across the crowded room. "That means your problems are mine as well. If I can help, then I will."

"That's a noble outlook, Commander. It's going to get you killed one day."

"It already did."

The two approached a short staircase being guarded by a batarian. The man looked at Shepard and then nodded him up. At the top of the stairs, in what David could only guess was some kind of VIP section, there stood a few tables, mostly empty, more guards, a large window that looked out over the club, and a long black couch with a single asari perched casually in its center.

Instructing David to wait, Shepard crossed over to the woman. She looked at him for a moment and motioned for him to take a seat.

"Commander Shepard," she cooed. "Did you need something else?"

"I'm looking for someone," he said.

"Again? I appreciate the things you have done for me, Shepard, but your continued confusion of me with an information kiosk is beginning to grow annoying."

"So is continually having to bail you out of trouble," he retorted.

The asari flashed a wicked smile. "Fair enough. Give me a name and I'll see what I can tell."

"A man named Reiner, human. He's leading a small raider group calling themselves The Void."

The sarcastic smile was gone off of the woman's face in the blink of an eye. Now she had the look of someone who has just bitten into something sour and distasteful. "Reiner," she said. "Yes, I know of him. An arrogant bastard who thinks a few lackeys and matching armor entitles him to respect. He's been an annoyance ever since he first arrived here."

"If he's that bad then why not kill him?"

"There is a difference between an annoyance and a threat. The man might be egotistical, but he's not a fool. His group knows not to cross me or my operations. Besides" she said as she leaned forward. "If I had everyone I found unpleasant killed, Omega would be much emptier."

"So you know where he is, then?"

"Of course. I know everything that goes on in my station. He has a home in the slums. I believe he uses it as a kind of headquarters, but I wouldn't worry about his team; they haven't been seen for some time now. I would beware of the man himself, though. He's like a snake. If you get him in your sights; shoot. Otherwise he may just wiggle free."

Shepard stood up from his place on the couch. "Tell me, Aria; are you always so quick to sell out your residents?"

"Have you ever played chess, Shepard? The pawns exist for no other reason than to be sacrificed in pursuit of a higher goal. Men like Reiner; they're not even pieces on the board. If you want to be the bleeding heart, than feel free. Just don't expect me to shed a tear after he's gone."

"What makes you so sure he's going to die?"

"Because the man is proud, but weak. It's a combination that always leads to challenging the wrong opponent, and if you are on his trail, Shepard, I'd say he's done just that."

Walking into a place on Omega that is specifically referred to as 'the slums' was like heading into the 'unpleasant' part of Hell. The streets were dirty and littered. The people who moved and slept around them were mostly vorcha with a few spots of human and batarian, most of which looked completely strung out on red sand. The smell of urine hung in the air and David felt as thought he had contracted ten different diseases just by breathing the air.

It had taken a lot of searching, several back tracks, and a few bribes before they finally found the address they wanted inside of this sick maze of desolation. The door was completely unremarkable from the thousand or so others they had passed. David had almost been expecting a giant neon sign, advertising to all that this was the home of The Void. Good to see Reiner wasn't a complete fool.

"The door's locked," David said, "But the encryption is crap. Give me a minute and. . .there. Open sez me."

"I wasn't aware you could hack," Shepard commented.

"A little. Rin taught me that."

David reached into one of the large pockets on his uniform and removed from it the only other item he had brought with him aboard the Normandy, the thing he had kept stored away in his locker; a pistol. He had been carrying it for awhile now. It had saved his life more times than he could count and today. . .today David planned to call upon it for one last job.

He checked the thermal clip; almost empty, but all he needed was one shot to put between the bastard's eyes. It almost didn't seem real, how close he was to the end. For so long he had been dreaming of the moment when he could come face to face with the man who had taken everything that was good in his life away. A strange feeling had come over David; some concoction of numbness, calm, anger, and determination all swirling into some emotion of which he knew no name. He was ready to put an end to this.

David began to move towards the door, not knowing what would happen in the next few minutes and at the same time not caring, when a hand came down on his shoulder; the grip gentle, but firm. David looked back at Shepard, his face was stern.

"I want you to think about this, David. Really think. Are you sure this is what you want?"

There was no asking what he was going to do, Shepard already knew, and while David appreciated his concern, it was far too late for him. If there was an afterlife of some kind, some form of Heaven or Hell, than his soul was already damned. Whatever he did now would not change that. The best he could do was to make sure he did not burn alone.

"I'm sure," he responded evenly. "I've waited too long for this. Do not try and stop me, Shepard, but. . . look; whatever happens, I want you to know that I'm grateful for everything you've done. Now, let's just get this over with. On the count of three." Both men readied their guns. "One. . .two. . .three!"

David slammed on the button, the door slid open, and the duo stepped into the darkened lair.

Reiner's home was as filthy and disgusting as the rest of Omega. The ground was covered in stains and littered with trash. The furniture was cheap and torn and covered with more garbage. In one corner of the room an unmade bed stood, its sheets draped halfway on the floor and covered with stains David would not care to identify. A kitchen stood a little ways across from them; its counters dirty and the sink littered with pots and dishes that had gone months without washing. The smell of mold filled the air. Except for the trash and tacky furniture, the apartment stood empty.

"He's here," David said under his breath. "I know he's here."

The two began to wade their way through the sea of refuse as they started their search for the man. The hunt, as it turned out, was not long. Only a few moments after stepping into the room, Shepard's head perked up. With the strong push of an arm he was throwing David to the ground and leaping away in the opposite direction just as the sound of discharging pistol echoed through the room, the bullet cutting the air and smashing into the far wall.

Within seconds Shepard was on his feet and bolting for the direction the shot had come from; a partially opened closet door. He threw it open revealing the human standing behind it. Reiner was a tall man with a bald head and a black goatee. His face was lined with wrinkles and a scar cut across his forehead just above the eyes brows from some wound that never quite healed. Shepard grabbed Reiner's arm and twisted it upwards, causing the gun to fire harmlessly into the ceiling. Using his other free hand, the commander took hold of the cheap pistol and pried it from the man's hands before yanking him out of the closet, hard.

Reiner stumbled across the room and might have caught his balance if his feet did not become entangled around a discarded pair of pants sending the man tumbling to the floor. "Is this him," Shepard asked as David got to his feet.

"Yeah." Even in the dim moonlight, the man's face had imprinted into his brain, always waiting, always visible whenever he closed his eyes. Now this man was on the floor before him; no backup, no weapon.

"I don't know who the hell you people think you are for bursting into my room, but I'll have your heads for-"

David pulled his arm back and stuck Reiner across the face with the barrel of his gun sending a spray of spit and blood across the room.

"Shut up," David commanded, a strange chill settling over him. "Stand."

The man brought his hand up to his bleeding and already swelling cheek, but did not move. "I said stand!"

Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, David pulled the man up off the ground and to his feet. "I found you. It took months but I finally tracked you down you son of a bitch."

"Kid, I've never seen you before in my life."

"Liar," David screamed. With his hand still firmly grasped around the man's shirt, he threw him back against the wall that stood behind him. Reiner's head collided with a smeared, cockeyed mirror shattering the glass and sending large shards raining to the floor.

"'Let him bleed out', remember? 'I want them to suffer', remember?"

Spitting a wad of blood on the floor, Reiner looked up at the young man and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I know you. Took a minute, but I've killed so many people it's hard to keep track, you know? You're the brat traveling with the quarian bitch."

"Don't you talk about her."

"Did you hear the way she screamed?"

"Shut up."

"She loved it. She begged for more."

"I said shut up!" David pressed the barrel of his gun against the man's forehead, digging the metal deep into his skin, his finger squeezing down on the trigger.

Shepard stepped in, gripping on to David's wrist. "Wait," he said. "Think about this."

"He killed her, Shepard! They took of her mask, they ripped off her suit and they. . .they. . ." David swallowed hard as tears began to form in the corner of his eyes. He had tried so hard not to think out it, not to talk about it, but now he couldn't stop. Now the floodgates had opened and every sick and horrible memory that waited behind came spilling out and there was nothing he could do but be swept away.

Rin slept in her hospital bed. All she did was sleep now. Maybe it was for the best. David just hoped that her dreams were of pleasant things.

The young man sat in a chair, his upper body a roadmap of bandages that stretched around his gut and chest and over his right shoulder. Lying on the bed before him, sealed away in clear plastic walls was Rin. She wore only a white cotton gown. There was nothing salvageable left of her suit; The Void had seen to that. An IV was feeding oxygen directly into her nose while a dozen others hooked into her arms pumped her full of antibiotics and pain meds, but the girl was beyond saving, David knew it and he could see it in the eyes of every doctor that saw her. All they could do now was keep her comfortable before the inevitable.

For several days David never left her side. He ate in her room, slept in the chair, and refused to leave for his testing. The nurses and doctors tried to persuade him away at first, saying that if they didn't check his wounds regularly there was no telling what kind of infections could occur. David laughed at that. They were worried about his infections while Rin's body was racked with disease, or at least; an allergenic reaction so strong it might as well have been a sickness all it's own. After awhile the medical staff just let him be.

He talked to her constantly, even though she never answered. He told her about how as soon as she got better they would make the finishing touches on Tilla and then they would go see as much of the galaxy as she wanted. He talked about all the places they would go, all the people they would meet, all the things they would do. He sat there in his uncomfortable rubber-coated chair and spun lie after lie for the girl. Except Rin was a sleep, she couldn't hear him, so who was he really lying to?

In the vids and on TV the ending is always something dramatic and deep; there was hand holding and cryptic last words, a soft kiss and a final goodbye. Real life, though, was rarely so cinematic. Rin's end came at 04:51 Galactic Standard Time. David had been half asleep when he was awakened by the sound of a high-pitched whine. Looking up, he saw the screens that read off the girl's vitals had flat lined and as David had drifted in and out of an uneasy rest, Rin had passed away.

Standing up on legs that felt like the same rubber as the chair he sat on, David moved towards the plastic dome. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle to its only door and pulled. There was a faint rush of air as David stepped into the sterile zone. Reaching out, he took Rin's still warm hand in his own. Brining it up to his lips he first kissed the tip of one finger, then the next. David brought the bare hand upwards and pressed the palm against his cheek in an almost mirror image of what Rin had done the first and only time she had taken off her suit for him. She had gone to the hospital then, too, but they had prepared. They had taken all of the precautions and prescriptions.

The Void was less gentle.

Hot tears began to flow down David's cheeks, creating a small pool where Rin's hand caressed him. That was how the nurse found him several minutes later; standing in the sterile bubble with the quarian's hand against his face, gently weeping.

"No," David said and then repeated the word for good measure. "No, he doesn't get to get away with it, not after what he did, not after what he took."

"Is killing him the best way," Shepard persisted.

"It's the only way!"

"No, it's not. I can call the Alliance and tell them what happened. They can arrest him and-"

"The Alliance doesn't care," David whined. "No one cares! She was beautiful, Shepard. She was beautiful and young and innocent and no one cares that she's dead! I want Reiner dead!"

"So that's what this is all about. You're really just a selfish brat," Shepard suddenly said, his words hitting David like a truck.

"W-what?"

"You heard me. All this time you kept acting like you were doing this for Rin when you were really satisfying your own needs. If you want your cold-blooded murder, than fine, but don't you dare hide behind someone else's name while you do it."

David was dumbfounded. He looked at the commander like a hurt and confused child that isn't getting his way. "B-but he. . .she. . ."

"No more. You're the one that knew Rin, would she really want you to spill blood for her? Look at yourself, David. Do you think she would like what you've become?"

"Why are you protecting him," David screamed, motioning towards Reiner.

"I'm not. I'm protecting you. If you want to kill that man then do it, hell, the galaxy will probably be better for it, but you damn well better admit that you're doing it for yourself first. Don't think for a minute that I'll get you taint someone else's name with your need for vengeance."

David looked back at the man who stood with his pistol buried into the flesh of his forehead. Reiner's eyes were wide; his face splattered with blood, and his lower lip was quivering. He looked weak, pathetic, and David understood that was what the man was. That was why it took a team of five hiding in the dark to take out two unarmed people.

"Show him mercy," Shepard persisted.

"He didn't show Rin mercy," David argued, but in his heart he knew he had already lost.

"You're right. He didn't. So what does that mean if you do the same?"

For a moment David just stood there, caught between two choices. There was so much of him that wanted to pull the trigger anyway, to paint the walls of this shithole with his brains, but the commander's words; the things he said. . .

"Damn you, Shepard," David whispered and he lowered the gun. "Damn you to Hell."

Letting go of the man's shirt, the young man stepped away grasp as Reiner slipped down the wall to the floor where he huddled up.

"You did the right thing," the commander said.

"I. . .whatever. I don't. . .I don't care anymore," he said with a sigh. "So what happens now?"

"Now we get in contact with the Alliance. They'll pick him up and cart him off towards a prison cell where he'll have a long, long time to think about what he's done."

David nodded. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was something and it meant that Reiner would never be allowed to hurt anyone again. The Void was a good as gone and Rin. . .maybe her spirit could rest now. Maybe he could start sleeping again.

"No," a voice said from the floor. "No, I ain't going to jail. You don't get to win, you bucket-loving shit."

David looked down to see Reiner holding a large shard of broken mirror glass in his right hand. Before he could so much as blink, the man brought it to his throat and sliced it open in one fluid motion.

Blood instantly began to gush out of the wound in streams. Crying out, David dropped to his knees and grabbed the man by the shoulders. "Don't you dare," he screamed in the man's face. "Don't you dare die!"

Reiner looked up at the boy's face; a sick and insane smile stretching across his lips, twisting his face into something cruel and horrible. A few moments later, he went limp in the boy's hands. Screaming in rage, David dropped the body and leapt to his feet. He leveled his pistol and unloaded upon round after round into Reiner's chest, causing it to jerk with every hit, until the gun clicked empty in his hands. Even then he still pulled the trigger as if his blind fury was enough to conjure up more ammunition. Finally, the screaming stopped, the dry clicks from the gun stopped, and David stood breathing heavy with sweat pouring down his face.

Shepard began to speak, began to say some form of words that would be hollow and empty, but the young man refused to listen. Spinning on his heels, David aimed his empty pistol at Shepard.

"You bastard! You son of a bitch! I had him! Here was right there and you let him go! What was the point of it all? Why did you make me save him if he was just going to die anyway? Why?"

Shepard didn't flinch, didn't so much as blink. He allowed David to scream, allowed him to have his temper tantrum, and only after he had finished did he talk; his voice calm and even in a way that made David wish he still had one bullet left. "Reiner's death was on his own hands, not yours. It was never a matter of if he lived, but if you could stop yourself from killing him. You said you sold your soul, David. This proves you didn't."

"I was. . .I was too weak to do it myself."

"No. You were given a choice and after everything he did you still found it in your heart to spare him. Revenge is easy, David. Forgiveness is hard."

"I don't forgive him," he said, lowering the gun. "I just. . .couldn't kill him."

"That's as good a start as any."

David looked around the room, filled with trash and filth and blood. The smell seemed stronger now and it made his stomach churn. "Can we go now, Shepard? I. . .I don't want to be here anymore."

The man nodded. "Let's go."

"What will you do now," Shepard asked as they made their way back to the Normandy.

"I'm not sure," David said. "I've. . .been in the revenge business for so long that I don't really know what to do with myself."

"Well, you know. . .we can always use the extra help aboard the ship. Tali says you're a pretty good engineer."

The boy blinked, not sure if he had heard the commander correctly. "You. . .you would really want me back on the ship after. . .after all of that? How do you know I won't keep reporting in to The Illusive Man?" Shepard crossed his arms and gave him a look that seemed to say 'are we really going to have to discuss this'. "Okay, good point. Still, he is going to be pissed when he finds out about this."

"Don't suppose there's anything he can do about it, is there?" The question was asked in half jest and half seriousness.

"Not a damn thing."

"Then let's head back to the ship. There's still the reapers to worry about and I need my crew in working order."

David shot the man a joking military salute. "Yes sir, commander."

Shepard returned the gesture.

He felt better than he had in a long time. For awhile during their trek back he had still been angry, still felt cheated out of his revenge, but at last he calmed and rationality set in once again. When it did David felt. . .okay. Not good, and not great but. . .okay. For the first time in a very long time he felt like he might get some peace. The young man fell in behind his commander and watched as Shepard walked back to his ship; back to the woman that loved him. As he followed David thought that maybe, just maybe, he would sleep easy tonight.

Reaching into his pocket, David removed a small holo. Opening it up revealed the image of a human boy and a quarian girl; arms around one another, both so young and so in love. David smiled at the image and closed his eyes.

Above them a million and one stars shone like gems pressed into the night sky. The air was warm and still and the smell of grass and earth surrounded them as they lay on one of Tilla's wings, looking up at a never-ending vastness that would soon be back in their grasp.

"I want to see it all," Rin said, her head resting upon his chest. "Every last inch. I want to visit the shops on Illium and dance in the clubs on Omega and I want to see every homeworld; Thessia, Kahje, Palaven, Earth, Tuchanka-"

"Tuchanka," David repeated, lifting his head slightly so he could look at the girl. "The krogan? Really?"

"David, the krogan are a beautiful species. So are asari, salarian, turian, volus," Rin rolled over onto her stomach. Placing a hand on either side of him, Rin lifted her body until it was hovering just a few inches above his own; her eyes looking down in to his. "And human, of course. Humans are very beautiful."

Smiling, the young man wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You're beautiful," he said.

"I know," she teased, settling her head back down on his chest. "But it's still nice to hear."

For a long while they just lay there, resting on the wing of their 'child' and watching as the stars twinkled above.

David placed a hand on her shoulder. When Rin craned her neck to look up at him, the young man bent down and placed a soft kiss against the mouthpiece of her mask.

The young man smiled and looked into the deep pools of her glowing white eyes, thinking how he would do anything for her, become anything, say anything just as long as it made her happy. She had become as vital a part of his life as the air he breathed. Of course, David knew that this couldn't last forever. At some point the time would come that Rin would need to finish her Pilgrimage and return to her people. It wouldn't be today and it probably won't be tomorrow, but soon the day would come and it would be the worst day of his life. Until then, however, he planned on making every last moment count, on filling himself up to the brim with her love and returning all that he had and more. It was corny, yes; kind of like what you hear in all of the bad daytime soap-opera vids, but maybe there was a reason for that. Maybe romance was at its heart a silly, cheesy thing; something to be laughed at and at the same time adored. In the end, what did it really matter? As long as you were together and happy, who cares what others may think or say.

The girl chuckled and gave him a playful shove. "What was that for?"

"That was because-

-I love you, Rin," he whispered.

"Goodbye."

The End.

Drifting

"And so, it is said, you are haunted.
My friend, we are haunted all."

-Isabella Banks

David stood in the expansive office with mixed feelings of uncertainty and anxiety flowing through his veins. For the hundredth time the twenty-five year old human wondered just what he had gotten himself into. He was not entirely convinced that the man sitting with his backed turned to the young man was not instead a devil in human form; after all, when the person that David was looked at pictures of the person he used to be, it was hard to believe that he hadn't sold his soul.

My reasons were good, he told himself, as he always told himself when such thoughts wormed their way into his head. Over the past few months, he had done a good job of burying those feelings under a mound of emotional numbness, but every once and awhile a seed of doubt would still try to blossom.

My reasons were good, he repeated.

David had been contacted the day before by a man who would not give his name. He simply stated that the time had come to 'pay back the favor'. That was all David needed to hear to understand. He was told that there would be a shuttle waiting for him at dawn and his lack of appearance would be greatly frowned upon. David was at the station hours before the shuttle even landed.

He was 'greeted', for lack of a better word, by a tall man with dark skin and hard grey eyes that looked as though laughter hadn't touched them in years. The moment he stepped onto the small passenger ship, the man shoved a black and white uniform into David's arms with a pair of boots sitting on top.

"Change," the man said, and then walked off.

David unfolded the neatly pressed clothes and looked them over. He wasn't too surprised to see that the outfit would perfectly fit him. With a sigh, David began to strip, thinking of how he has stepped out of one jumpsuit and into another.

He did not see the man again until they landed several hours later. Walking back into the room, he gathered David's clothes, folded them up nice and neat, and then presented him with a strip of black cloth.

"Tie this across your eyes. Make sure you can not see a thing. If I have reason to believe otherwise, I'll knock you unconscious and drag you to our destination myself."

He took the blindfold willingly enough, but did not immediately put it on. "Is all of this really necessary?"

"You are an outsider and can not be trusted. You may remove it after we have reached the offices."

David didn't like the idea of walking into the unknown blind, literally, but what choice did he have? There was no where to run to now and the dark skinned man was nearly twice his size as well as armed, and while David had built up his body significantly over the past two years, he highly doubted that he could take on this man in a bare knuckle brawl.

It all could be a trap, he supposed, but it didn't seem likely. If his only surviving enemy had caught up with him; an assassin bullet to his back seemed more likely than anything this elaborate or theatrical.

With one last look at the man before him, David closed his eyes and tied on the blindfold. If this did turn out to be a trap, than so be it. Death, no matter how slow or cruel, would be preferable to whatever lie ahead.

A strong, meaty hand wrapped around his upper arm and began to pull him forward.

"Come," the man said, "and consider yourself honored. After all, not many are graced with the opportunity to speak face to face with The Illusive Man."

It took all of David's willpower no to fidget. Even without The Illusive Man's eyes upon you, there was still a presence about him that inspired unease. In on hand he held a cigarette which he would take the occasional puff from and in the other; a glass of scotch.

"Mr. Bastian," he greeted in a casual 'we're-all-friends-here' tone that David did not believe for a second. "I trust your trip went well. I must apologize for the security. I know it may seem irrational, but as you must understand a man such as myself must be careful about whom he chooses to trust."

David crossed his arms, trying not to let his insecurity show. "Can we skip the pleasantries? What do you want from me and why am I dressed like one of your goons?"

"Strait to business, I see. Very well. You are 'dressed as one of my goons', as you so eloquently put it, because for all intents and purposes, you are one." David opened his mouth to object, but The Illusive Man raised his hand as if had been expecting this protest. "Only temporarily, I assure you. I have some work for you and once it is complete you will receive your payment."

David's hands clenched into tight balls, causing his knuckles to first turn red and then white. "Why won't you just tell me where he is? Why are you making me play this game?"

"Because the information you requested from me was not bought cheap, as you well know. I gave as much as I have as a sign a good faith, but I am not a charity, Mr. Bastian." The man paused long enough to take a drag from his cigarette. "If you want the rest than you will have to earn it."

"And if I say no?"

The Illusive Man shrugged. "Such is your right. No one is forcing you into this. You are more than welcome to walk away at any time. However," he took another drag. "Should you choose that path, than I can not guarantee that the man you are after might not find out about your relentless pursuit. Nor can I guarantee that an. . .anonymous source may not move this man into such heavily protected custody that he will never be seen again."

"You wouldn't dare," David hissed.

"Dare what, Mr. Bastian? I'm simply giving a possible outcome of your decision; to help you make up your mind."

His shoulders dropped and he felt all of his anger pour out of him like water down a drain. He was trapped. He knew it and the bastard sitting before him knew it. David had signed himself up for this the moment he agreed to talk with Cerberus.

"What do you need me to do," he sulked.

The Illusive Man turned around in his chair, his hands cupped loosely together and a hint of a smile touching his lips as he asked; "Are you aware of a man named 'Shepard'?"

Several days later David was sitting on a bench just outside Illium's spaceport dressed in the Cerberus uniform and with a fresh haircut and shave. He looked young, professional, and completely unremarkable; just as The Illusive Man planned.

"I will be informing Shepard that I am assigning a new engineer to his crew," he said. "Don't worry, I'll make it clear that you are not to be used for any assignments that may arise."

"It's not like I'm helpless," David protested.

His 'employer' nodded. "I'm aware of that. Your escape of the Citadel speaks volumes for your survival instinct, but I'm not in the habit of taking unnecessary risks. You're no good to me dead. Besides," The Illusive Man paused, inhaling from his cigarette and blowing out the smoke before continuing. "You need to be my constant eyes and ears aboard the Normandy. You are to remain generic, plain, easily glanced over. I can't have Shepard thinking I've sent him anything other than someone to. . .lighten the load, shall we say. If he becomes aware of your combative skills then questions may begin to arise." He blew out a final puff of smoke before stamping out his cigarette, his eyes never leaving David's. "I can't have that."

"Won't he be suspicious of the one random crew member you've suddenly added?"

"Not at all. I've been slowly filtering in non-essential crew for some time now in preparation for your visit. Shepard will have no reason to suspect you than he would anyone else aboard the ship."

"Just how long have you been planning this?"

His only response was a devious smile.

David sighed and ran a hand through the messy hair that would soon be cut. "Why use me at all? I would suspect someone like you would have that ship completely wired."

"I need that human element," The Illusive Man replied. "I suppose that's not surprising to hear, coming from me. Bugs and wire taps only see so much and can be easily broken. The salarian alone has already disassembled a small fortune worth of spy equipment. No, I need you to pick up on the subtleties that the cameras, or what remains of them, may miss."

"Than why not contract one of your men already on the Normandy to do this or hire someone trained in espionage?"

"As long as my people are under Shepard's command, they are security risks. As for hiring an actual spy. . ."He shrugged. "Not preferable. To anyone else such an assignment would just be another job, and jobs can be done sloppy or abandoned completely. That is where you come in. You're in a unique position, Mr. Bastian. For you failure does not come at the cost of a lost wage or termination. No, for you, failure means losing something important to you. The only thing that has been important to you for the last year."

"You don't know a thing about me."

The Illusive Man smiled. It took all of David's willpower to not race across the room and wrap his hands around the man's neck. "Whatever you say, Mr. Bastian. Whatever you say."

The sound of footsteps ascending down the hall awoke David from his memories. They were coming from the spaceport and headed his way. David had thought he saw a ship docking while he was lost inside the world of his own head, but he hadn't been sure until now.

Standing from the bench, he tucked a grey folder that had been resting by his side under his arm just as the doors slid open and a Commander Shepard stepped though. He looked just the pictures, but David always thought he'd be much taller. . .

In truth he had expected someone from the ship to come and grab him, but not the Commander himself. David figured the man would be far too busy to worry about the newest peon being added to the ship, yet here he was. David was thrown off of his game, momentarily, but quickly managed to recover.

As the two men walked to meet one another, he took a deep internal breath to steel his nerves and thought: Well, here we go.

David stopped a few feet short of the Commander and offered a strong salute with his free hand before reciting the lines he had written for himself and practiced in his head over and over again. He thought they sounded good; very 'mindless professional'.

"Sir, David Bastian reporting, sir. May I say what an honor it is to be assigned to a man of your caliber, sir."

Not bad. I should have been an actor.

"I appreciate the thought, but this isn't a military operation," Shepard said with a raise of his hands and a soft smile. "There's no need for those types of formalities."

"Oh. O-of course. My apologies." Once again David had been thrown from his stride. Just as he never expected the man to come greet him himself, he had also not planned on Shepard being, well, friendly. What he had expected from the stories that he had heard was something closer to The Illusive Man; someone who was cold, cruel, poisonous. He could have worked with that. Friendly, however. . .friendly was going to be a problem.

David suddenly remembered the dossier tucked under his arm. Bouncing back as fast as he could manage, David took the folder and handed it over.

"For you, Commander. I was told you would need to review this."

The dossier contained a signed transfer order from a facility that did not exist by a man that was just as fictitious as well as several pages containing falsified information about David's 'time with Cerberus', his skills, and suggested placement. The Commander skimmed over the few papers and nodded in satisfaction.

"This all looks in order," Shepard said, offering a hand to David. "Welcome aboard the SSV Normandy, David."

"Thank you, sir," he responded, shaking the hand offered to him.

"I'll give you some time to unpack any personal items you have and get familiar with the ship. Be sure to introduce yourself to Ms. Tali'Zorah on the engineering deck. You'll be reporting directly to her."

After the handshake, they had started to walk back to the ship, but now David found himself stopping dead in his tracks. "That name. . .that's quarian, isn't it?"

Shepard came to a stop as well and eyed the young man suspiciously, his tone suddenly sounding much more intimidating. "Yes, it is. Will that be a problem, Mr. Bastian?"

"N-no. Of course not, sir. Just curious."

"If you have any qualms with non-humans, I suggest you leave them behind you. Cerberus might be funding this operation, but they do not control it. I won't stand for a 'humanity-first' mindset aboard my ship."

"I understand, sir. There won't be any problems."

"Good," Shepard responded and offered a small smile to show that the matter was behind them. It was a smile that David easily returned, but did not in the least bit feel.

A quarian. A quarian that he would be working along side with in close quarters. David hadn't even stepped foot aboard the ship yet and already things were going wrong.

Well, he thought. At least it can't get any worse.

"I don't understand," David said as he skimmed through Shepard's dossier. It had been uploaded to a specialized omni-tool provided for him specifically for this mission. "If you've spent all this time and this money on this Commander Shepard, than why the secrecy, the distrust?"

"I'm suspicious of everyone," The Illusive Man responded as he lifted his scotch, gently swirling it in one hand so the ice clinked against the glass. "It's one of the ways I've remained in power for so long."

"I can see why you're so interested in this guy," David commented as he read through Shepard's personal history. It was almost as if he was destined for greatness since birth; his childhood, his accomplishments in the Alliance, not to mention becoming the first human Specter. It was all so unreal.

"Humanity needs a man like that. He's our greatest hope against coming storm."

"Afraid he'll refuse to work with you?"

"Oh no. Shepard may not want to admit it, but he needs Cerberus. Without our funding and information networks, he would be stumbling around blind; it's what comes after, that concerns me."

"Meaning?"

The Illusive Man lifted his drink to his mouth and downed the glass. "Shepard will play ball for as long as he has to, but he's a wild card. He's already proven himself too idealistic for his own good. Worse; he's an alien sympathizer. I need to know exactly where his priorities lie. That is where you come in. Keep an eye on the Commander and his crew. Inform me of any important details that may arise. Should Shepard surprise me and turn out to be loyal to our cause, than so much the better, but if my personal suspicions are correct, than you are to uncover any form of. . .leverage that might be needed to steer the Commander back on the right track."

"And by 'leverage' you mean 'blackmail', right," David asked without really asking.

The man sitting before him raised a hand as if dismissing the claim. "Call it whatever you wish, Mr. Bastian, just as long as the work gets done."

David shifted on his feet, not liking the way The Illusive Man's words sat like a stone inside of his stomach. "This doesn't feel right. . ." He confessed.

"Perhaps," the man said as he lit a fresh cigarette. "But you are no more worthy to comment on morality than I."

There was a short pause as David worked to silence what small part of his conscious that still remained. "And if I do this for you," he finally asked, "we're done, right? I get what I need and then we're done?"

The Illusive Man took a drag from his cigarette. "Correct. I am many things, Mr. Bastian, but not a man that goes back on his word. Do what I have asked of you and you will be paid with the last of the information you've commissioned. What you choose to do after that is none of my concern. So, do we have a deal?"

There was another moment of silence as a part of David's mind asked him if he really wanted to go through with this. There was still a chance to walk away. He could pick up what pieces remained of his life and just walk away, that part of his mind that was either cowardice or reason told him. It wasn't yet too late.

Except it was. It was too late from the moment he made his first kill in cold blood. He could kid himself with the illusion of 'choice' all he wanted. In the end there was really only one way to go.

"Yes," David said, "We have a deal."

The days passed and David intergraded into the Normandy's small, but respectful crew perfectly. For a short while he was 'the new guy' but it was a title didn't take long to fade as he sank into the background, just like he wanted. David was polite, but not openly friendly; hard working, but not an overachiever. He never stayed in one place for too long, never became too close to one person, never did anything to make him stand out from the dozen others like him dressed in identical black and white suits, yet all the while as he played his role David was listening. A small ship was a lot like the small colonies he was familiar with; word always got around and no secret was ever a secret for long, not if you knew who to stand around and when to listen. Everything of importance went into his omni-tool; names, dates, personal observations, and not all of it about Shepard. David made it a habit to learn as much as possible about the essential squad members Shepard chose to surround himself with.

Miranda and Jacob were among the first of his crew, and rightfully so. Both were highly skilled in their fields and had earned their spots in this mission through years of blood and sweat. Still, they were Cerberus, and thus there seemed to be a bit of mistrust among the 'freelancers', as David labeled them in his mind, and much of that distrust seemed to be pointed at Miranda directly. David certainly didn't blame them for that; she was The Illusive Man's 'go-to girl' after all. She was intelligent, shrewd , and not too different from the man she worked for, as far as he could tell, yet even she wasn't aware of David's true purpose aboard this vessel. David made it a point to stay away from her whenever possible. Someone of her experience and personal intellect would only need a passing glance at his dossier to see that it was a fraud. Luckily, she didn't seem to take much interest in the 'peons'. As long as he kept on doing what he was doing, David thought he could continue to fly under her radar.

Mordin was the first non-human crew member to be brought aboard the ship. He was a genius in his own right and talked about a mile a minute, but the man had probably forgotten more about science and tech and just about anything ending with 'ology' than David would ever know. Mordin mostly stayed locked inside of his lab all day, usually had his meals brought to him and only taking a break from his work when directly brought on a mission with Shepard. He might have slept at some point, but David had certainly never seen it.

His only direct conversation with the salarian came when David first joined the crew. Like everyone else he was given a general health exam to check for any serious or contagious illnesses that could affect personal or crew performance. Most of their conversation, if it could be called that, was the generic 'stick out your tongue and say 'ahh'' kind of thing, but David managed to insert a little personal conversation which he hoped sounded casual enough.

"I'm surprised at the extent of your knowledge of our physiology, Professor. I don't think I've had human doctors that knew half as much."

"Comes with position," Mordin absently remarked as he checked David's blood pressure. "Am familiar with the inner workings of many species; human, turian, volus, krogan."

"Yeah, but it's still amazing. If you don't mine me saying, I'm surprised any non-humans would even consider the idea of working with Cerberus, let alone agree to it."

"Will go where needed-hold still, please-where probability to do greatest good highest. Peer opinion irrelevant. Currently suffering from any aches or pains?"

"No," David answered.

"History of specific disease in family?"

"Nope."

"Have in engaged in sexual intercourse within past two months with any species: human, asari, vorcha?"

"No, I- wait. Vorcha," he asked, not sure if he had heard correctly.

Mordin shrugged. "Happens."

As the days passed and David spent more time on the ship, he began to realize that life on the Normandy was not too different than colony life. There was a kind of 'small-town' mentality that was hard to escape. Everyone knew one another and worked together to keep the giant metal can that was keeping them alive as they floated through the vastness of space in working order. Now, that didn't mean that everyone got along. Miranda and Jack (the super-biotic psychopath with the million tattoos and skimpy top that lived in the bottom of the ship) were at each others throats on a near daily basis. Most of the time their fights boiled down to little more than a few poisonous words, but sooner or later the day would come where the fists would begin to fly and that time came, David severally hoped to be in a completely different solar system. The fact that Shepard was able to keep them in line was nearly awe inspiring. For the most part, though, everyone seemed to get along well enough and, despite his own reservations, David couldn't help but take a liking to some of the people that had taken up residence; Garrus for example.

David had seen the turian around a handful of times, but had never found a good excuse to talk with the man, or rather; to dig for information, until one night during dinner. Meals aboard the Normandy worked about the same as a cafeteria. Mess Sergeant Gardener had set the hours which breakfast and dinner would be served with several 'light snacks' that could be picked up and eaten at any point between meal times. The Crew ate in unassigned shifts which were usually based upon when you were hungry, how critical your current project was, and whether or not you could find someone to cover you. Still there were 'dinner rushes' where the small cafeteria would be more crowded than normal and it would be during these times that David would try to plan his meals. The food and casual setting had a way of loosening lips, and he could almost always overhear something interesting.

Of course, such finer acts of espionage came with a risk; his was trying to keep down the cooking. Now David was as used to bland and tasteless food as the next guy, but when you closed your eyes and couldn't tell if it was the mashed potatoes, peas, or beef you just popped into your mouth, then there was a problem.

One day he found himself sitting down to dinner later than he was used to. Despite what his true purpose might be, there was still actual work that he had to do and, for what it was worth, he took it seriously and did it well. Today was one of those times where he became a little too engrossed and found he had lost track of time. In fact, it wasn't until Miss Zorah approached him and asked if he had eaten yet that David became aware of how late it had become and how hungry he was. She told him to run upstairs and grab a quick bite, the work would hold until he got back. David thanked the young woman and headed for the elevator, trying not to let the hard pang he felt in his heart show on his face.

There were about fifteen minutes left of Gardener's 'dinner hour' (an ironic name since it actually lasted for three) and everything still edible had been taken leaving David with very little to pick through.

After filling his tray with what he thought he could keep down, David took a seat at the mostly empty table. Looking at his food as if it were something he scraped from his shoe, the young man cut off a piece of what he hoped was Salisbury steak.

"Please be edible," David chanted under his breath. "Please, oh please, oh please be edible." He popped the piece of meat into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "Damn it."

"Well, looks like you're having fun," a voice said from in front of him. Looking up he saw the turian, Garrus, take a seat just across from him. There was a metal tray in his hands similar to the one sitting before David expect the food upon it was completely unidentifiable to him. "Is Gardener's cooking really as bad as I hear?"

"Worse," he responded, poking at the meal.

"I'm suddenly very happy about the whole dextro acids thing, then," the turian said with a short chuckle. "Get my meals delivered in bulk. Homemade, you might say."

"Wanna trade?"

"This stuff would probably kill you," Garrus said as he swirled was looked like short, red spaghetti noodles around on a fork.

David motioned down to his own food. "So could this."

"Hey, this ain't no cruise line, kid," Gardner called from his station. "If you don't like the grub, than starve."

David looked back at Garrus and smiled. "Ooh. Tempting."

They shared a small laugh before going back to their respective meals. Silence settled over them; the only sounds coming from the ship, the few people moving about around them, and from the kitchen where Gardener was washing up. For awhile, David toyed with the idea of just taking today off from the spy bullshit, maybe just pretend that he really was a legitimate and deserving part of this team, if not for a few hours, but it was an idea he could only briefly entertain. He was so close to the end of his journey now; so close to the person he had spent the past year tracking from one rat hole to the next and each day that passed his feelings of anxiousness grew, becoming harder and harder to ignore. No, he was going to have to get to his real job here and the sooner he got what was asked of him, the sooner he could put this all behind him before he had the chance to fully accept the wickedness of his actions. Still, it didn't make things any easier.

"So," David spoke up, breaking the stillness. "I've heard rumors that you and Miss Zorah served with Shepard on the original Normandy during that whole 'rouge Specter' thing about two years ago. That true?"

The turian nodded. "Saren? Yeah. Funny to think that was only two years ago; feels. . .much longer than that."

"But you came back again. Why?"

Garrus looked across the table at him with an inquiring look upon his face. "What's with all the questions, kid?"

"Morbid curiosity, I guess," David responded with a shrug. "I hear the other crew members talking sometimes about collectors, and reapers, and geth. They make this sound like a one-way trip."

"Possible."

"Right, but you served with Shepard before. You have to know better than anyone what we're up against, so why jump back into it? I mean, are you really that loyal to Shepard or just suicidal?"

Garrus gave a snort of laughter. "A little from column A, a little from column B."

"Come on, I'm serious."

"So am I," Garrus said, but David just stared him down, waiting for some kind of real response. The turian sighed a little and shook his head. "Shepard's a good friend. Let's just say he opened my eyes to a lot of things and I owe him for that, alright?"

"Okay," David agreed, popping a spoonful of watery cream corn into his mouth. In his head, the young man was already making out the notes he would type up later in private. From what he had gathered from Garrus' files as well as first hand accounts, the turian was fiercely loyal to the Commander. Any decision Shepard made, he was almost sure to follow whether he agreed with the man or not and would most likely die defending him if necessary. Personally when David thought of the already existing friction between humans and turians mixed with the near-impossible odds that Shepard and Garrus had already survived before Cerberus came into the picture, he found the fact that such solid a friendship could be created between the two all the more impressive.

"-you here?" he heard Garrus say.

David looked up from his meal. Not expecting to have been spoken to again, he had lost himself to the details he would later write in his report.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said; 'why are you here'? It's only fair that I get to drill you for information now."

"Oh, there's no story there," David lied. "Nothing you'd want to hear."

"Humble, but not true. Come on, if you weren't good at what you did, you wouldn't be here. Despite my personal feelings for Cerberus I will give them this; they know talent when they see it."

For a moment, the young man was at a loss for words. He was treading into dangerous waters. Let the wrong thign slip and everything could come crumbling around him like a house of cards. "I'm just an engineer. I was assigned here and. . .that's about it."

"Come on now. I think we both know that's a lie."

David's blood froze cold inside of his veins even through his heart was now running at triple pace. Did the turian suspect something? Was it possible that, despite how careful he had been, David had somehow given himself away at some point? The young man's mind began to race. What if Garrus went after him? He was currently unarmed and the turian easily outweighed him inside of that armored suit. Even if he did somehow get away, where could he go? He was trapped out in the middle of nowhere.

"What do you mean," David asked, surprised at how relaxed his voice sounded.

"How old are you, kid? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?"

"Twenty-five," David corrected, wondering where this was going.

"So by your species standards, you're just barely an adult, right?"

"Right. . ."

"Okay, so than here's my question; what compels a young human who probably has a good hundred years left in his life to agree to join up on a suicide mission? And don't say it was because you were ordered to. That line might work for turians, but your species? No offence, but humans don't have quite that level of public servitude."

David couldn't help but breathe a soft sigh as relief flushed through his body like a drug being pumped into his brain. For now, at least, he was still in the clear.

How does anyone make a living doing this crap, he asked himself.

"It was just something I felt I needed to do," David responded. "Something I had to do. When you really have something worth fighting for, it's hard to dwell on the consequences."

"There we go," Garrus said. "Now, doesn't that sound better than 'I was told to'?"

"I. . . yeah. Yeah it does."

David stood up from the table and took the metal tray in his hands; most of the food was still untouched.

"Done already," the turian commented and he began to go back to his own meal.

"Yes," David said. "I'm not very hungry any more. . ."

David had kept notes of various lengths of the men and women Shepard brought aboard the Normandy. There was the hired mercenary, Zaeed and the tank-breed krogan, Grunt, both of which would provide little in the way of The Illusive Man's desired 'leverage'. There was the drell assassin, Thane, whom David had yet to speak with. The man lived an even more sheltered life aboard the ship than Mordin. Most of his time was spent inside the life support chamber, and whenever he did emerge for meals he always sat alone and with his back towards one of the walls. It was hard to tell if the man was unfriendly or just private.

An asari Justicar and human thief, Samara and Kasumi, also rounded out the cast and were both people David actively chose to avoid. The asari pretty much made her living hunting down and killing people like him and the less aware of his presence she was, the easier he would breathe. As for Kasumi, well, she reminded him a little too much of himself; always sneaking around, always listening, never really saying anything when she spoke. There were far too many red flags for the woman to pick up.

For the most part David respected the crew that had been assembled on the Normandy. Even people like Jack who, frankly, scared the hell out of him commanded at least some bit of trust. Yet, a lot of that changed with the arrival of 'Legion'. By some logic or madness David did not understand, Shepard had decided that it would be a good idea to not only bring a geth aboard the ship, but to activate it as well. David had only seen the bucket of bolts a handful of times around the ship, but whenever it did it brought back too many bad memories; fear, claustrophobia, the overwhelming feelings of dread and panic. Shepard knew what the geth were capable up just as much as anyone else, perhaps even more, and if he activated this 'Legion' than it must be for good reasons. Still, David didn't trust it and never would. Between turning on the geth and releasing the krogan (both actions done without any possible knowledge of their outcomes) the young man had come to think that Shepard was either an over-trusting man, or a foolishly brave one.

Bravado or naivety aside, one thing that never failed to impress was the way Shepard managed to not only keep this assorted crew of killers and psychos in line, but as time went by each in turn had become very loyal to the commander. He had begun to understand just what The Illusive Man had meant when he said that humanity needed Shepard, because there was no one else; no human, or turian, or asari, or whatever, that could achieve the level of respect that he did. The fact that he was being forced to work with a group like Cerberus at all was disgraceful. The Council should have been hanging off of every word that the man had to say, not dismissing him like a madman raving on a street corner like they had.

The people who are supposed to be protecting us are throwing us aside, and in their absence the terrorists are acting as our guardians. David once thought to himself as he reread the notes he had stored on his omni-tool. My god, these really are the end times.

Yet out of all of the people David found himself working with each day, the one who's presence he found most enjoyable yet at the same time the hardest to enture was Tali'Zorah. The young quarian was sociable, as most of her species were, but she was also very kind, gentle, and highly intelligent. Much like Legion, the girl often awoke memories and feelings that David would have much preferred stayed docile, but unlike the geth these thoughts were reminiscent of a more bittersweet time in his life; times that changed him, first for the better and then. . .

David often found himself catching glances of her out of the corner of his eye as he worked, thinking of how similar Miss Zorah was from the girl he used to know. Not exactly the same, of course, but the parallels were there and were strong enough to often make him upset. David tried to work it so they wouldn't speak more often than was needed and when they did it was short and professional like discussing specific tasks she needed completed or tests she wanted done, yet despite the formalness David found he couldn't quite look her in the eye. It had been so long, but he still didn't have that kind of strength.

At first, the young man had worried that being assigned to one of the lowest levels of the ship would make for little opportunity to do his actual assignment, but this turned out not to be the case surprisingly enough. Shepard seemed to always find an excuse to go down to the engine rooms, sometimes to ask questions of the ships status from himself or from Ken and Gabby, but eventually he would ways find his way over to Miss Zorah and while their conversations started quite casual at first, as the days passed David began to notice something between the two; there was a tone in the Commander's voice that David never heard for anyone else, the way Miss Zorah would shift on her feet and ring her hands together. David began to wonder if there wasn't something more than a friendship developing.

It wasn't too long after that those suspicions became confirmed.

The Normandy's shielding had received one hell of an overhaul not long ago and while it would do wonders from this ship from ending up like the predecessor it was named after, it also caused energy bleeds as the ships engines tried to sort through the sudden increase in electrical power. David had done what he could to try and even things out and while it was yet to become a huge issue, it was still one that needed to be repaired and was just beyond his know-how. He had gone to find Miss Zorah and run the numbers he was getting by her, hoping that she could make sense of it all, but when he stepped into the engine room he found it strangely empty. He knew where Gabby and Ken were, he'd seen them upstairs in the mess hall a few minutes ago, but Miss. Zorah was almost always at her station. He had poked his head a little further into the room, thinking he might find her at one of the other consoles, but found nothing. A feeling came over him; the one that you could only say in French as David stepped a little further into the room. His head filled with bad memories of an overcast night, cool breeze, and tall grass. Something strikes his foot and when he looked down to investigate. . . David was snapped out of his trance, suddenly becoming aware of voices drifting down from the engine core; muffled but audible. Moving closer, trying to stay as silent as possible, David made his way towards the noise.

"-died on Vermire," Miss. Zorah was saying, her voice tender, sad, filled with longing. "I've watched you for so long and I never imagined you'd ever see past. . .this."

David dared to take a few more steps in. He knew what he was doing was bad, but at the same time this could have been just the break-though David had been looking for.

"Tali, if you're scared I don't blame you, but I don't want anyone else. . .I want you and I'll do whatever it takes to make this work."

He peeked around the corner as Shepard spoke, watched as the man reached out and took the girl's hands in his own. The softness in his voice, the look in his eyes; it was beautiful, pure, and painfully familiar. . .

They were sitting next to one another on the shuttle; dirty, tired, bloody, but alive by some sort of intervention either lucky or divine. Her head was turned down slightly and she was ringing her hands together. He was looking right at her, though. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"David," she finally said; her voice much more quiet and meek than he had ever heard before. "Being with me, with any quarian, it's. . .it's not easy."

"I know," he said.

"There would be a lot we couldn't do; a whole lot, and I don't just mean. . .you know. Even the simple stuff; a caress on the cheek, a soft kiss. . . keelah, David, we couldn't even share the same stupid meal! This can't work. There's-there's no way. People who go through stressful situations together often develop strong emotional bonds, but. . . but those feelings never last and. . .and then. . .damn it, stop looking at me like that! You're not making this easy!"

David, a much younger David, a more innocent David, a David who had yet to make his first real kill, smiled. He lifted his hand and brushed it across the soft fabric of her veil. She stiffened at his touch, but didn't stop him.

"I once heard that being with a quarian wasn't easy, but you know what? The best things never are."

The young man ducked his head back behind the wall and made his way out of the engine room as quietly as he had come in. He could hear Miss. Zorah talking; nervously stumbling over her words, but David didn't need to listen to any more; he couldn't. Out in the hall, he opened up his omni-tool and began to write his last set of notes;

'While Shepard has developed a fierce loyalty with each member of his crew, officer Lawson included, it seems a strong personal bond has grown between himself and the quarian; Tali'Zorah vas Neema, now under the name Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. While it is unknown just how far this romantic entanglement will go, or how long it will last, all logic would indicated that the best way to control Shepard-'

David paused, unable to go any further. His hand felt as if he had turned to stone. Could he do this? Could he really go through with it after everything he saw?

For a moment the young man almost deleted the notes, to hell with The Illusive Man. But then he thought of that last person he needed to find; still out there, still breathing; free to continue with his wicked life as if the sins of his past would not be avenged.

David typed one final sentence into his omni-tool:

'The best way to control Shepard will be through the girl.'

My reasons were good, he told himself again.

The words rang hollow.

The days turned to weeks and David did nothing with his data. Deadlines came and went without him reporting in. David began to feel sick and tired almost all the time. His apatite was basically non-existent and the hours he should have sleeping in the crew quarters were instead spent staring at the metal walls. He was constantly at war with himself; his excused mind rationalizing his actions one minute and then condemning him the next.

His work and appearance began to suffer. Over the past few days David started to get dark rings under his eyes and he would make simple mistakes with his repairs, often causing him to have to do back and redo hours of work. His emotions were killing him, yet he could do nothing but sit on the files he had collected, unable to submit them, yet unable to destroy them. No matter how hard he worked to conceal his problems, it was only a matter of time before someone caught on. Prehaps it was only fitting that that person was the same as the one causing the majority of his convictions.

"David, can I speak with you for a minute," Tali had asked him one evening as he crunched though numbers that his brain could not seem to put together.

"Hm? Oh. Yes. Of course. What can I do for you, Miss Zorah?"

"I'm. . .concerned. The quality of your work lately as been. . . how can I put this. . .troubling. David, you're making too many mistakes, some of them extremely vital. When I compare this with your past performance, it leads me to suspect that something is wrong."

"Everything is fine, Miss Zorah. Really."

"No, it's not. Maybe you're not aware of this but quarians have become skilled at spotting illness."

"It's nothing," he insisted, uncomfortable with concern he heard in her voice. "Just a little stress, nothing I can't handle."

"Prehaps you should go speak with Kelly. She might be able to help."

"I would really prefer not to. . ."

"Well we need to do something. You can't keep going on like this. Listen, if you're worried about the mission, I can understand. You're being asked to sacrifice a great deal, we all are. If you need to talk about it and aren't comfortable with Ms. Chambers, than I'd like you to know that it is perfectly alright to speak with me."

He found himself floored by her words. David knew all too well about the history between Cerberus and the quarians, as well as Tali's own personal feelings on the matter, but the fact that she would still make such an offer whether it was sincere or not. . .

"You. . .you would really do that, Miss Zorah?"

"You're a member of this crew and, more importantly, you are one of my engineers. Look, as far as I can tell you don't seem like a bad person even if I have concerns about your choice of employer. No one is making you do this, David. If you're having doubts, serious doubts, than we can have a talk with the Commander, maybe see about getting you a transfer."

It had been so long since anyone had shown him that level of kindness, of concern. Her words, her interest; it was too much. He couldn't do this. He couldn't be this person. He would tell her, he would tell her everything; the lies, the notes, the betrayal. Whatever became of him afterwards, he would accept, but if it meant being free of all this. . .this guilt, than even execution would be preferable.

David opened his mouth, ready to spill the truth about everything that he had done, when three short, toneless beeps rang from his omni-tool as if on cue. Against his better judgment, David looked down to see that he had received a message. It was encoded, but the young man knew perfectly well who it was from and what would say.

The Illusive Man wanted to talk. Immediately.

He had made some pathetic explanation and excused himself from the room. Moving with same anticipation as a criminal marching down death row, David made the trek from the lowest level of the ship upstairs to the debriefing room. Mordin was so engrossed with whatever project he was working with as David passed through the lab, that the man didn't even look up. He probably wouldn't have noticed the young man's presence unless David waved a hand in front of his face.

"EDI, open up the communication line between the Normandy and The Illusive Man, please," David ordered as the door slid shut behind him.

"I am sorry Mr. Bastian," the AI responded in its female voice. "But you do not have the necessary clearance to-"

David opened up his omni-tool and read off the code that had been provided to him before his arrival. "Authorization Override: 4-H 8-C 3-R 3-A"

There was a paused that lasted for several seconds. When EDI's voice returned the tone had changed to that of a monotone sleepwalker. "Confirmed. Channels opened. Scrubbing recent memory data," it said and then was gone.

The table that stood in the middle of the room began to lower to the floor. Once it slid into place, David stepped into the ring it formed on the ground and waited patiently as the necessary scans were made. A few short moments later the ship around the young man disappeared, replaced with the holographic image of an unwontedly familiar office and the man that worked within.

"Mr. Bastian, so are still alive," The Illusive Man said. "I had started to worry."

"I'm sure you were all broken up."

He ignored the young man's comment. "Perhaps than you can explain to me just I have stopped receiving your reports."

"I've been busy," David said. "There's a lot of work to do around here and I-"

"I'm not interested in your excuses, son. What I want are results. Maybe you're forgetting that I am the one doing you a service here, not the other way around, therefore; you work around my schedule. Are we understood?"

"Look I can't-"

"Are we understood, Mr. Bastian?"

David lowered his head like a beaten dog. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, what information do you have for me?"

David bit down on his lower lip, unsure of what to do. A moment ago he was ready to spill his guts to Miss Zorah and would have done just that if not for The Illusive Man's timely call. Now he wasn't so sure again. Time, as well as the man's patience with him, had grown very short. When he had arrived on this ship, David was set to deliver the information asked of him. He wasn't happy about it, but he would do it. But now. . .being here, seeing the things Shepard did for his crew, talking to the people onboard, and most of all; hearing Miss Zorah's kind words and seeing the relationship she shared with the commander. . .would really be worth putting it all at risk, to put his own needs before the lives of all of these people; people who were risking their lives in what would surely turn into a suicide run to save a galaxy that had labeled them as terrorists and loons? They didn't deserve this. Not Shepard, not Miss Zorah, none of them. David didn't know if he was finally coming to his senses after all of these months of near non-stop roaming and killing or if he was simply too cowardly to see things through to their end, but whatever the case, David realized that he couldn't. He was neither that strong nor that wicked.

"No," he lied, his voice just over a whisper.

"You disappoint me, Mr. Bastian," the man said. Even as a hologram, his eyes seemed to burn into the boy. "You better find something and soon. If you ever want to see your payment, get me the leverage I need to control Shepard."

With that said The Illusive Man cut the feed; sending David into a world of darkness that faded away and left him standing in the middle of a mostly empty room once again. David rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He had hoped that there would be relief now; some sort of assurance from his mind that this choice was the correct one, but there was nothing. He no longer even felt ill. Now. . .now he was just empty inside; hollow and tired. All he wanted to do was find an empty bed in the crew quarters and sleep for the next fifty years.

Turing around and thinking that he might go do just that, David found himself face to face with the deadly end of a pistol.

"How dare you," Tali said, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal. "How dare you!"

David had no idea just when the woman had stepped into the room or just how much of the conversation she had heard, but the look in her eyes and the poison in her voice told him that she had heard enough; and the gun in his face was a pretty big hint as well. He had been caught, but if he could explain his actions, make her see that he had never had a choice like he was going to say to her before, then he might be able to fix things; make them right again.

"Miss Zorah I-"

"No! Shut up," she commanded. "You don't get to speak, not after everything you've done! I can't believe I felt sorry for you. I should have known better. Cerberus. You're all the same. You're a monster."

David cringed at her words as if they had physically hurt him. He supposed that, in a way, they did.

Never taking her eyes off of him, never allowing the gun to waver, Tali brought up free hand up the side of her helmet about here the ear would be.

"Shepard," she spoke into the communicator. "I need you to come to the debriefing room." There was a slight pause as the man asked a question that David could not hear. "Please, just hurry." With that said, she brought her hand back down to the pistol.

"Please just let me-"

"Shut up," she cried at him. "I can't believe that anyone could sink so low. After everything the commander has done for us, for all of the galaxy. . .you've seen the things he's sacrificed! You know how important this mission is, but you didn't care! You better pray the commander is more forgiving than I am because if he instructs me to shoot, believe that I will not hesitate."

David closed his eyes, his hand touching something small and metal from the outside of his pocket. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's far too late for that," Tali replied, mistakenly thinking that David was speaking to her.

Several seconds later he heard the sound of the door opening and closing. Peeking out from behind his eyelids, David saw Commander Shepard looking back and forth between himself, Tali, and the gun. There was a look of confusion upon his face.

"Tali? What's going on here," he asked.

"He's a spy, Shepard. I saw the sudden spike in power coming from his room at my counsel. When I came to check I found him talking directly to The Illusive Man. He's been placed here superficially to gather information on you, Shepard, to find a way to keep you under The Illusive Man's control. I told you we couldn't trust Cerberus!"

Shepard turned his eyes towards him and David could literally feel the weight of his stare. The man's face gave no hint of what he was thinking or feeling and somehow David found this more troubling than the gun that was still pointing at him.

"David," Shepard said. "Is this true?"

The young man dropped his eyes, unable to meet the man's gaze, almost looking like a child being scorned by an upset father. "Yes."

"What do you want to do with him, Commander?"

Shepard crossed his arms, looking at David as if he were a complicated puzzle rather than a living person. "He's too much of a security risk to keep onboard, that's for sure, but this raises a very disturbing question about who else might be acting as a mole."

"There's no one else," David said, his line of sight still trained on his shoes. "Just me. You. . .you command amazing loyalty from your crew, Shepard. Everyone onboard this ship, they know the hazard, but they're still willing to fight. I really don't think anyone else could have united these people together like you have; worthy goal or not."

"If you really feel that way," Shepard spoke, "than why do all of this?"

"I. . .I had to."

"Liar," Tali called. "I heard The Illusive Man talk of payment. It's just an act, Shepard. He's in this for credits."

"It's not money," David tried to correct.

"Than what? What were you promised? Power? Was that it?"

"No."

"Than why? Why would you betray us?"

"For revenge, okay," David screamed, filled with an explosion of anger and self-hatred that he had no idea dwelled within him. "I'm doing it for revenge, are you happy now?"

"Against me," Shepard asked. Where as Tali had jumped slightly at the boy's sudden outburst, Shepard still remained the definition of serenity.

"No, not you," David replied; once again sounded fatigued and helpless. "It has nothing to do with you. I. . .I'm sorry that you got dragged in my problems, Shepard. You and Miss Zorah."

Tali looked over at the commander. "I don't think we can trust him, Commander. What if he's still trying to fool us?"

Shepard seemed to ponder this for a minute before finally turning his attention back the boy. "Tell me the story. All of it, but keep in mind; I'll know if you're lying." His tone near the end was almost threatening.

David sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. His story. . .it wasn't a pleasant one and he didn't even know where to start.

Well that's simple enough, he brain said; half joking, half serious. Start at the beginning, and when you get to the end; stop.

Taking one more deep breath for good measure, the man opened his mouth and began the tale of how his once boring and simple life had spun so far out of control.

"My folder and everything in it is a lie," David explained. "I'm not with Cerberus, not really. Two years ago I worked maintenance on the Citadel. Basically if anything needed to be patched, or repaired, or cleaned than I was one of the guys who got called in. The hours were long and the work was often. . .unpleasant, but it paid and it was a living, you know? I was there when Saran and his geth attacked the station.

I had been inside some of the air ducts for several hours trying to repair the damage done by the Duct Rats; children who play inside of the vents. It all happened so fast. One minute everything was normal and then the next. . .there were gunshots, screaming, sounds of. . .of panic and chaos. We were one of the first wards attacked. No one had time to evacuate or run or. . . it was a slaughter."

"Than how did you survive," Tali accused.

"Like I said; I was inside the ducts. The geth didn't see me, but I saw them. I watched as they cut people down of any age or species, it didn't matter. They just kept shooting. Some even tried to surrender, but. . ." David shook his head, as if trying to clear the memories out. "Anyway, I waited until it was safe as things were going to get before I ventured out of the ducts. I knew the layout of the station pretty well then. I figured that if I stuck to the back allies and side streets then I could get to the spaceport. I was holding on to the slim hope that there were still evacuations going on. It was while I was sneaking around that I. . .ran into her."

The young man began to reach into his side pocket. Tali, who had lowered her weapon at Shepard's request after David began to talk, suddenly raised it again. David hesitated, but only for a moment. She wouldn't shoot unless directly ordered, at least he didn't think she would, and he was going out of his way to make sure his moments were slow and steady almost as if he were dealing with a pack of wild animals.

Inside of his pocket, the young man's fingers wrapped around one of the two personal items he brought aboard the ship. While the other he kept inside of his assigned footlocker, this he carried with him at all times and had been for a long time.

"Here," David said, holding out a holo. Shepard motioned for Tali to lower her gun again, advanced several steps, took the device, and turned it on. A moment later a miniature image to two people, arms loving wrapped around each other's waists, floated above his palm. The man was David; young, smiling, dressed in casual clothes and sporting messy brown hair in bad need of a trim. The young woman David held was quarian. She was about his height and wore an envirosuit of blacks, dark pinks, and light reds. Bright, intelligent eyes shone from behind a mask the color of dusty roses.

"Without her I never would have survived. Her tech, her skill. . .it saved our lives out there."

Tali moved closer to the image, studying it. He couldn't see Tali's expression, but there was something in her body language that suggested familiarity with the girl in the picture. "David, what was her name?"

"Rin," he said, not missing the fact that this was the first time Miss Zorah had used his name since finding him here. "Rin'Leer nar Rayya."

"nar Rayya," Shepard repeated. "Tali, that's your birthship, right? Did you know her?"

"Yes, a bit. She and I were friends when we were younger. She left on her pilgrimage shortly before I did."

"That's why she was on the Citadel," he continued. "She was looking for work to purchase a gift to bring back to your fleet, but that places is already so full of techs that trying to find work in that field. . .it's kinda like throwing a message in a bottle into a sea made entirely out of messages in bottles."

"And I suppose being a quarian on top of it didn't help her chances," Shepard said.

David gave a quick shake of his head. "Not at all," he said before returning to his story. "I don't know how many people made it out of those wards alive, but it wasn't many. After going through all of that, after nearly dying a dozen times over, Rin and I we. . .we drew close. I. . .I guess we kinda just. . .fell in love. The wards were practically destroyed by the time the attack ended and help arrived. She didn't have any reason to stay and I had suddenly found myself homeless and unemployed, so when Rin went back on her pilgrimage journey, I sort of tagged along."

The young man smiled slightly, his eyes growing distant as he remembered their trek from colony world to colony world and starship to starship. It had harsh, sometimes dangerous, but never boring and he didn't regret a second of it. They were memories that he wouldn't trade for all of the money in existence.

Shepard spoke up, raising David from his daydreams. "I thought the Pilgrimage was supposed to be done alone, how is it fair for Rin if she brings along help?"

"It's not like I was babysitting her, Shepard. She was always a. . .very willful girl. If there was something she really wanted than she would get it; one way or another. I was just along for the ride. Besides, if she was able to inspire the loyalty of a non-quarian during her Pilgrimage, than would that really be looked down upon?"

"Quarians are not required to do everything on their own," Tali explained to the commander. "If we find our Pilgrimage is taking us someplace particularly dangerous than it's not uncommon to hire an armed escort. While it is best to prove that you are willing and able to do whatever is needed of you with your own skill, we're no good to the Flotilla if we are killed."

"Exactly," David said with a small gesture of his hand. "Besides after awhile the traveling became less about finding a gift and more about. . .well. . .the thrill of it all. I don't think Rin ever really wanted to go back to the fleet and spend the rest of her life slaving under the command of some captain." Both Tali and Shepard gave him a look. "Oh, no offence. Like I said; Rin was a spirited girl. She was smart, kind, gentle, but she had a wild streak in her. She wanted to be out there among the stars; traveling and adventuring, but she wanted it on her terms. As for me. . .I just wanted to be with her. It didn't matter if we were sitting inside of some cramped cargo hold or lying in cot underneath some planet's night sky. I was happy."

Shepard held out the holo and David took it back, holding it as gently as if it were brittle and could break at any moment. Looking at the picture, he couldn't help but to feel overwhelming joy and love, but with it came a bitter aftertaste. It had been a long time since he'd last looked at the holo. It just hurt too much, he found.

They had seen some amazing things, met incredible people, and lived a life the young mechanic often dreamed about, but never thought he'd actually do.

"For a long time we went from one ship to another; traveling with whoever would give us a lift and staying with any colonies that would take us in. We weren't free-loaders though, don't think that. Between her tech and my mechanical skills we always found work to do and often managed to walk away with a few extra credits in our pocket. It was hard, but it was heaven."

David crossed the room to the far wall. Leaning his back against it, he allowed himself to slide down to a sitting position on the floor all while still looking at the holo in his palm almost as if he was speaking directly to it.

"She showed me her face once," he reminisced. "We had been planning it for weeks. We scrounged up all of the money we had saved up and used it to buy top-shelf antibiotics. We took every precaution. We wanted it to work. . ."

Rin paced the back and forth in an arc. She had compiled a list onto her omni-tool of every necessary step needed by a quarian looking to pursue a more 'physical' relationship with an outside species and she was not checking this list for the hundredth time as David sat in his underwear on their cot.

"If you're not careful, you're going to make a hole in the floor," he said.

"I'm glad you're able to so easily joke about something that can kill me," Rin snapped causing David cringed as if struck. "Oh geez, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just-"

"Nervous," David finished. "I know. I am, too. Look, Rin, if you don't want to do this; if you're even the least bit unsure. . ."

Rin shook her head. "No. No, I want this, David. I. . .I want you. I want you to know what I look like. When you put your arms around me, I want you to know the face of the girl you're holding."

Pushing himself up off the bed, he crossed to the girl. Gently, he place one hand around her waist and the other behind her head. "If we're going to do this, I want it to be for the right reasons. I already know you're beautiful, Rin. There's nothing you have to prove."

She placed her hands on the side of his face, running her fingers over the rough surface of the stubble he'd not yet shaved. "I love you, David."

Rin was a wild girl, a spirited girl, and often a hard girl to be around, but in these moments when she would lower her emotional walls and show him the person that waited just behind the sarcastic words and harsh stares, David thought his heart would just brust.

"She was sick for over a week," he told them. "Near the end I finally had to drag her to a hospital and I only got her there because she was too weak to fight back. I was scared. I thought I might have killed her despite all of the precautions we took. That was the first and the last time I ever saw her without her suit. . .she really was beautiful. She. . .she really was." David suddenly snorted a quick burst of laughter and shook his head. "Hell, you don't want to hear about that. Sorry, I'm getting off track. When it comes to Rin I kinda tend to 'go drell'. Once I start thinking about her I can't seem to stop."

Tali nodded slightly. "I understand. I had heard that Rin never returned from her Pilgrimage. I never imagined that she might have found something she wanted more than finishing our people's right of passage. Until. . .recent events I never would have believed it was possible. I suppose I had always thought something had happened to her."

"Something did," David muttered.

"You've proven your point. If you don't want to finish, I won't force you," Shepard said, breaking the silence that he had been holding for some time.

He thought about the offer for awhile, seriously considered it, in fact. In the end, though, it was a tale that he wanted to tell, perhaps even had to tell. He had allowed the memories to fester and rot inside of his heart and head for a long time and look at where it had gotten him.

"No," he said. "I need to do this. I owe you that much."

The rest of the story would not be easy to tell and even harder to recall, but not because the memories were faded. Quiet the opposite; David could remember almost every moment he had shared with the quarian; both good and bad. They were coming up to the worst.

David snapped the holo closed, shutting off the image.

"We'd been on this freighter for a couple weeks," He told them. "The captain needed extra security for a cheap and we needed a place to sleep and eat. We traveled with them as the ship made pickups and deliveries to several remote colonies outside of Council space; easy enough work, no big deal.

Anyway, we eventually stopped at this tiny mining colony way out in the galaxy. I don't think there more than thirty, thirty-five people in that entire place. As the crew was checking the engines and running some maintenance procedures, Rin and I decided to take a stroll around the camp. No harm in a little exploring, right?"

David gave a laugh with absolutely no humor behind it.

"So as we're walking around this settlement, not really looking for anything in particular, just enjoying the chance to stretch our legs, when we came upon this old minimal-crew spacecraft, the kind that only requires one or two people to fly, sitting behind one of the equipment sheds and Rin; her eyes just lit up- er, no pun intended. What I mean to say is that she was excited; like 'kid at Christmas' excited. . ."

Rin ran her hand over the rusted old ship, stirring up a small cloud of dust and dirt. "Keelah. Look at this thing. It's incredible."

"Rin, it looks older than us combined. What's the big deal, anyway?" Understanding suddenly bloomed inside David's head, answering his own question. "Rin; no. No way."

"It's not in too bad of shape," she commented.

"No."

"It just needs a little paint,"

"No."

"Some new wiring,"

"No."

"Maybe a little engine work. . ."

"Rin!"

"It would be great," she said and David just knew that she was smiling behind that mask. "We could have the whole galaxy to ourselves, to explore as we saw fit! Think of it; no more hitching rides from place to place; going only where we are taken, no more working our fingers to the bone, no more sleeping in cramped cargo holds-"

"Yeah, now we can sleep in a cramped cockpit."

"Come on! Where's your free spirit, your sense of adventure?"

"Look at this thing, Rin; it's almost solid rust! It would have to be completely rebuilt."

"Well, luckily for us," the girl said, moving towards him until her body was just brushing against his own. "I'm a quarian and you're a genius. We can do it."

She always knew just how to manipulate him. Still, he pathetically tried to put up a fight.

"I really don't think. . ."

"Please, David?" She placed her hands on his shoulders and turned her head up slightly so her eyes were looking into his. "Please?"

"I . . .okay," he agreed, unable to say no to those eyes. "But only if we can find its owner and only if we can get it at a reasonable price."

Rin closed the last few inches of distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you, David" she whispered into his ear in a mixed tone of sincerity and slyness. "I knew you'd come around eventually."

"So the freighter left and we stayed behind. I can't even recall how long we spent working on that ship. There was always something that needed to be replaced, or rewired, or fixed, or changed; hell, I thought it would never end, but I have to admit. . .I enjoyed the challenge. I mean, I bitched and moaned constantly, but I really did have fun.

Rin loved that ship. Every time she looked at it she would get this gleam in her eyes that said that she was already millions of miles away, flying through the depths of space with a ship to call her own. She even picked out a name. She called it 'Tilla'.

"Tilla," Shepard repeated.

"Short for 'Tiny Flotilla'. That's that she said it was going to be; our own personal Flotilla."

"Did you ever finish," Tali asked.

The faint smile that had worked its way onto David's face now faded away. The cold, stone look that replaced it made it appear as if the joy had never been there to begin with.

"I did," he said. "But that was after."

"After what?"

"She died," he whispered.

David brought his hands up to his temples and rubbed them as if he was getting a headache. For the most part he felt surprisingly okay; a little drained and physically exhausted, but had had thought the memories would have held a sharper sting. Of course, as much as he would like to believe that the first steps of healing might have begun, there was a larger part of him that knew that this was the numb before the real hurt could kick in, and sooner or later it would. Even though there came a time where all emotional wounds ceased to bleed, there were some that never healed.

"There wasn't any room for us inside of the colony, hell there was barely enough room for the people who actually lived there, so we slept inside the equipment shed on the outskirts of the camp, the one Tilla was parked behind. We were used to sleeping in cramped conditions, so a few blankets laid out on a metal floor wasn't a big deal. Besides, I think Rin liked sleeping so close to the ship; 'our child', she would sometimes call it."

David shifted uncomfortably from where he sat on the ground and swallowed back a lump that had grown in his throat. So far he had managed to hold himself together fairly well, but he knew he needed to tread carefully from this point.

"It was often cold inside that shed and always drafty. One night I rolled over, meaning to pull myself closer to Rin. Those suits don't really do much for sharing body heat, but. . ." David shrugged. "Anyway, I reached around, but couldn't find her. After a few minutes I opened my eyes and in the dim glow of moonlight that shone through the cracks in the walls I saw that I was alone. I sat up, looking around the room, but she wasn't anywhere. So I stepped outside the door and. . ."

The moonlight lit the world around him in a faint blue glow as it when it rolled out from behind the clouds and draped it in velvet blackness when it slid back in. A soft wind blows through the night air stirring the leaves on the trees. It's cool, but not yet cold. However, there is no doubting that the temperature has dropped since they first arrived on this planet. They were going to need to find someplace warmer to sleep before long or finish the work on Tilla within the next few weeks.

That was then an idea struck him; Rin must have been behind the building with the ship. They were so close to finishing now, just a few more repairs and they would be ready to take to the skies. Rin was becoming antsy to get moving and if David had to guess, he'd say that she was probably having trouble sleeping and decided give 'their child' another look. David chuckled to himself as he walked around the shed, thinking that if she wasn't careful David just might start getting jealous, but as he came around the corner, he was stunned to see their solitary child and nothing else.

"Rin," David called softly as he made his way towards the ship, looking around in all directions. "Rin are you out here?"

There was no response.

Now the young man was starting to get nervous. If she wasn't inside their makeshift bedroom or out by the ship, than where else could the girl be at this late hour?

He called a little louder, but to no response. Now he was passing from nervous to panic; his imagination reeling with a thousand horrific scenarios all of which seemed completely improbable, yet at the same time all too possible. He cried out her name again, this time not holding back on the volume.

Circling the ship, trying to see everywhere at once, David's foot kicked something hard lying on the ground, causing it to skip across the overgrown grass and come to rest a few feet ahead of him. Moving carefully, David headed towards the thing lying before him. He could see it clearly in the moonlight, yet he could not make sense of it. His mind, still groggy from sleep, told him that it was something that he had seen before, that he knew well, but simply refused to place it.

Closing the distance between himself and this unknown yet familiar thing, David bent down and touched its cool, smooth surface. His fingers gripped its edges and lifted out of the unattended grass. Holding it up to his face, David saw moonlight shine off of a mask that's glass covering was the color of dusty roses.

His body went numb; his eyes wide with terror, and when the wind picked up it brought goosebumps across his skin, that and something else: a sound from the north. It was very faint, but very close. It was the sound of quiet sobbing, and it was Rin.

"Rin," cried out as he headed towards the noise with her suit's faceplate in hand. "Where are you? What's happened?" There was a shape in the distance; darkened in the shadows of the thick forest that stood around it and by a moon that had gone back into hiding. The figured stirred and seemed to look up at him. "Rin, is that you? What's wrong?"

The figured looked over its shoulder at something that seemed to be hiding just out of David's sight. He should have saw the motion, should have understood it for what it was, but he was too scared, too confused to do anything but keep pressing forward.

"What is it? What's going on?"

"David," The figure screamed, Rin screamed. "It's a tra-"

The sound of a rifle shot cuts through the night air like thunder from the heavens, and David is quickly and violently thrown off of his feet by invisible hands. He hits the ground hard enough to make stars burst before his eyes. Rin screams, but only for a second. There's a sound of flesh smacking hard against flesh and her voice is cut off.

The young man tries to get up, not knowing what is happening or how he has ended up on his back looking up at a partially cloudy night sky, but he can do no more than raise his head before a burst of white hot pain rips through his abdomen. His eyes are wide and he's gasping for air, each breath a little harder coming than the one before. His insides feel like they're burning and the taste of copper fills his mouth.

The wind has stilled for the time being, but there is rustling from the trees and bushes around him. A moment later five shadows gather around and looked down at their target. From above them all, the moon slides out from the clouds and illuminates their faces; two humans, a batarian, an asari, and a vorcha; each wearing matching black armor that blended in with the night. David looks up at them. He does not know it at the time, but he is marking their faces. He allows each one to burn into his memory where they will stay as clear as a photograph.

The batarian upholsters his pistol and levels it with David's head, but before he can squeeze his finger around the trigger, the bald human with a dark goatee standing next to him pushes the gun away.

"No," he says. "Let him bleed out. I want them to suffer."

"What about the girl," the batarian asks.

The human smiles, his white teeth shine in the dim light and for a moment David is reminded of a character named the Cheshire Cat from a story his mother once read him when he was young.

"Like I said; I want them to suffer."

The faces start to blur as the world around him losses color and focus. He can still feel the cool, tall grass pressing against his neck and arms, but the pain is gone now and he feels like he falling while still lying still. There is no way to fight the feeling. He wants to, but it's simply to strong. The young man closes his eyes and gives in to the darkness. The last thing he hears is Rin.

She's screaming.

"I woke up several days later in a hospital bed," David continued. "I was weak and bandaged, but alive. The colonists had heard the noise and came to investigate. By then those people were gone and I was still clinging on to life, though just barely. My doctor said I was lucky. If I had been hit an inch to the left or right I would have died in minutes. That wasn't luck, though. That was where the sniper wanted the bullet."

"What about Rin'Leer," Tali asked. "Was she. . ."

She didn't finish the question, and for that he was thankful, but none the less David found he couldn't answer it. He cast his eyes down to the floor and gave a slow shake of his head from left to right.

Tali crossed the room and knelt down before him. She holstered her gun and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Reaching up, David touched the hand and offered her a weak smile in thanks, grateful for the act of comfort she had given. When she stood up, the young man did the same. There was nothing to be gained from sitting on the floor against the wall like a homeless bum, even if that was what he technically was.

"Who were those men," Shepard asked after the young man had been given a moment to compose himself. "Raiders? Thieves?"

"A little of both," David answered. "They're a merc group, or they like to pretend to be at least. In reality they're no better than raiders; taking whatever they want, killing anyone that gets in their way. They call themselves The Void."

"Never heard of them."

"I'm not surprised. They're not the Eclipse, or Blood Pack, or anything. They may like to act like a gang, but they have no where near the numbers or equipment to be even half as good. The pry on non-military ships and deep space colonies; anyone who's weaker than them. They would never go near someone like you, Shepard. They're ruthless, but they're cowards."

Shepard crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels, trying to make sense of it all. "So were they there to attack the colony, or was it the shipment that you landed with they were after."

"Neither," David said. "Well, probably neither. The colony was about the right size for one of their raids, but as far as I know no one else was attacked and the shipment we brought with us was just normal provisions: food, water filters, medical supplies; some of which was used to save my life, ironically enough. There was nothing there that they couldn't have gotten elsewhere and in larger bulk. No, this attack, it was personal. Rin and I, we've. . .run in to The Void before."

"What happened," Tali asked.

"That's a long story. Let's. . .just say it was enough to make them track us halfway across the galaxy and leave it at that."

Tali nodded. "I understand."

"David," Shepard spoke up in a softer tone, "I'm sorry, about all of that."

The young man wave off the apology with a flick of his hand. "Don't be. There's nothing you or anyone else could have done."

"So then, how did you go from all of that to working with Cerberus?"

"I'm not working with them, Commander. I'm being blackmailed by them."

"After leaving the hospital I got in contact with the Alliance, they were the only people I could think to call. I thought they would help, but instead I was told that this was not a 'military' issue and there was nothing they could do. They gave their sympathies and said that they would keep a look out for The Void, but. . .I could smell the political bullshit from a mile away. They weren't going to help. No one was; one dead quarian? Who the hell cared?"

"Why not get in touch with the Migrant Fleet," Tali asked him. "If you would have contacted the adamantly board, if you would have explained-"

"Miss Zorah," David calmly interrupted. "I may not be quarian myself, but being with Rin, I tried to find out as much about your people as I could. Can you honestly tell me that the board would have done anything better? Honestly?"

There was a moment of silence as Tali looked away.

"I could stand here and lie to you both by saying that I wanted justice. Maybe in a way I did, but I think we all know that's not the whole story. What I really wanted, what I needed, was revenge. I was hurt and I was angry, and I decided that any sacrifice I had to make would be worth the reward, but first I needed to find The Void, so I went to the place that everyone goes when they need information; the Shadow Broker. After some searching I managed to come into contact with one of his agents. As it turns out, no one ever speak to the Broker in person."

"Yes," Tali said with a glance in Shepard's direction. "We're aware."

David nodded as if he understood before pressing on. "I talked to the agent and told him that I needed every bit of information I could get on The Void. I wanted their names and current locations as well as any personal info I could get dug up. The agent agreed that all of this was possible, and for one moment I thought I would finally get the relief I wanted, but then he started talking about price. I had spent the last two years of my life roaming around ships and colony worlds. Before that I was fixing broken fuse boxes and unclogging toilets, I didn't have anything the Shadow Broker could possibly want and what little credits I had left. . ."

David shook his head. "I sort of just. . .drifted for awhile, just me and Tilla. I finished what little repairs there were on my own. She wasn't pretty, but she flew. . .and she was the closest thing I had to Rin. I started to try and track down The Void on my own. Hell, if I ran into them once, why couldn't I do it again, I thought. The galaxy is a big place, Shepard. There are a lot of places a person can hide.

For I don't know how long I just went from one place to the next, searching and looking and asking questions, but it was all aimless. That was until I heard about this asari on Illium; she was making a name for herself as an information dealing, but here was the thing: she didn't work for the Shadow Broker. As insane as it sounds, she actively opposed him. . .and was doing a damn good job. So, I made my way to Illium. A beautiful place, but way too far out of my price range. I remember thinking to myself that another information broker, even one that was independent, was going to be a long shot. . ."

. . .but it was also the only shot he had. He had already gone to everyone he could think of for help, but was turned down at every bend and his own private investigation had done nothing but waste time and increase his frustration. That left his choices as either giving up and letting five monsters go free to continue their destruction, or put his trust in some stranger he had never met. The second option was not preferable, but the first was unthinkable.

David made his way though the Nos Astra trading floor. Around him thousands of people came and went; buying, selling, and trading, gaining and losing fortunes in the blink of an eye. It was a daunting to think of how much money passed through this place, perhaps even a little disturbing. The revenge business was one thing, but a lifetime as a stock broker? That was a horror David would never survive.

Pushing his way through the crowds, the young man finally found the landmark he was looking for; a digital sign reading 'ADMINISTRATION' by a stairway that headed up about half a floor. Taking the stairs two at a time in long strides, David came upon a desk resting at the top of the stairs from which an asari sat behind. The woman noticed his presence and glanced up at him. Even before she spoke, David had come to the conclusion that this was the secretary rather than the broker.

"Yes," she said pleasantly enough. "May I help you?"

"I have some business with the information broker."

"Do you have an appointment?"

David blinked. "I- no. No, I didn't think-"

"I'm sorry, sir, but in order to speak with Miss T'Soni you'll need an appointment, but before that you must first prove that you can provide payment for services rendered." The woman looked David up and down, taking in his hair and clothes. "Which I highly doubt you could do."

"You don't understand," he persisted. "This is important."

"I'm sure it is, sir. Perhaps when you are able to pay for our services you can- Hey! You can't go in there!"

David had been stonewalled for the last damn time. He had tried playing nice and he had tried playing fair and so far it had done nothing for him. Rin's death was already a tragedy, but he refused for it to become an insult because of politics or secretaries or appointment books, or whatever else. David would talk to this broker himself, he decided, and headed for the door halfway through the secretary's brush-off.

"Try and stop me," he shot back as he stepped through the doorway.

The office itself was about what David had been expecting: a large and expensive looking desk sat before a pair of arm chairs for the clients. The walls were decorated with an assortment of fine works of art and a number of plant life dotted the room to add some greenery to the environment.

An asari woman (Miss T'Soni, he presumed) sat behind the desk. She appeared to be going through a large stack of files until David entered the room. "What is the meaning of this," she asked as she stood from her chair. David was shocked at how young she looked. He had been expecting a matriarch as an information dealer, not someone who was barely an adult by her people's standards. Well, whatever. It didn't matter if she was one hundred or one thousand, just as long as she was useful.

"I'm sorry for bursting in ma'am," David started, knowing that he had precious little time to plead his case. "I'm in desperate need of your help. If you'll just give me a moment-"

Before he could finish his speech, David felt a force close around his body and lift him off the ground. It was as if the hand of God had reached down and plucked him from the earth. Straining his neck, David could see the secretary standing just inside the room, her right arm held out before her and a faint glow around her body as she held the man in air with her biotics.

"My apologies, Miss T'Soni," she was saying. "I tried to tell him you were unavailable, but he refused to listen. I'll get rid of him now, my lady."

"Please," he begged the asari standing before him. "I don't have anywhere else to turn! I can't let them escape! They murdered her and I can't let them get away!"

T'Soni rested a hand on her chin and looked at him as if she were studying something under a microscope. "Put him down," she finally said in a tranquil voice.

"But my lady, he-"

"Nyxeris, put him down and return to your desk."

"I. . .yes, my lady."

The biotic field around David's body suddenly vanished and the young man found himself falling back to the floor. Landing on his feet, David just managed to catch himself on one of the chairs before he could topple over."

"I apologize for my assistant," Miss. T'Soni said as she slid back into her own seat. "She is new and still cooping with the way I choose to run my business. Now, what was it you were saying Mr. . ."

"Bastian. David Bastian. Does this mean you'll help me," he asked as he took one of the chairs across from her.

"It means that I will listen. I promise no more than that."

David nodded. It wasn't much, but it was a start and certainly more than he had gotten from anyone else. Mentally crossing his fingers, David began to explain about the Citadel, Rin, The Void, and the things they did.

The asari watched him as he spoke, her chin resting on her cupped hands. Every now and then she would nod at something he said, but would make no comment of her own.

"And that's it," David finished. "That's the story. Do you understand why I have to find them?"

For a moment Miss T'Soni said nothing and the young man felt his stomach knot up into a tight ball. Finally, she lifted her head and allowed her hands to drop back to her desk. "What will you do when you find these men, may I ask?"

David briefly considered lying to the woman, telling her something about brining them to justice or some such crap, but he didn't see the point. He could tell that she had already made up her mind one way or another and nothing he said from this moment on would change that. Now the question was; was she getting information from him for their deal, or was she merely humoring him; playing with him a little before kicking him out? He supposed he would find out soon enough.

"I plan on killing them, ma'am. Maybe quick, maybe slow. I haven't decided yet."

The asari looked at him for a moment longer before sitting back in her chair and nodding as if in agreement with something he said.

"I am still building my network of contacts. It will take some time to track down these men. In the meantime I will have Nyxeris find you a room here in Nos Astra. I will contact you once I have the knowledge you seek."

For a moment David was stunned stupid. He had come here fully expecting another brick wall, but it seemed that maybe, just maybe, he had finally found the break he needed so badly.

"T-thank you, ma'am, I don't know what to say. . .I. . .I'm afraid I can't offer you much in the way of credits, though."

"We can discuss the matter of payment later." A small smile touched her lips. "But as I said; this information will take some time to track down. By the time I have something for you, I might have completely forgotten that I have not been remunerated, if you. . .'catch my drift'?"

"I. . .yes. Thank you," David said, once again taken aback by the woman's kindness. "Can I ask you something? Why are you doing this for me? It's not that I'm ungrateful, I just. . .don't understand.

The woman stood from her chair and turned to face the window behind her that overlooked the trading floor, but not before he saw a look of desolation come over her face.

"You. . .cared for this girl, yes? You loved her?"

"More than I can say."

"A tragedy befell someone you loved and you are willing to do anything to make it right again. I can. . .sympathize."

David leaned against the debriefing room's table, idly running his hands over its wooden finish. "Three days later I was summed back into Miss T'Soni's office, but the news she had for me was not what I wanted. Basically she had procured a list of names and where The Void was often spotted, but could not nail down a precise location. I was almost right back where I started."

"What do you mean by 'precise location'?" Tali asked

"Miss T'Soni managed to lower the ring of search, but the place she tracked them to. . .it wouldn't have done much good to look."

"Out of curiosity," Shepard asked. "Where was this place?"

David looked over at the commander. "Omega, but trying to find one specific criminal there? I can't even think of an analogy for how impossible that would be. 'Needle in a haystack' doesn't even begin to describe it."

"But that still doesn't explain how Cerberus is involved," Tali said.

"That. . .was Miss T'Soni's idea, actually. She said that if anyone would have the resources I needed, than it would be them. If I wanted, she could set something up, however she also warned that the price would be steep. I knew she didn't mean credits.

Ultimately, I asked her to make the call. I had heard about Cerberus before; rumors involving the awful things that they were accused of doing, but I didn't care. If it meant avenging Rin I would've worked with the Devil himself. I. . .guess that's what I did, huh?"

David began to walk the length of the table, back and forth, as he talked. At the time of doing these things he was still blinded by his lust for revenge. It was only now that he actually spoke of his actions out loud did he understand how desperate he had become, how addicted to the idea of death. Of course, there was also that saying about hindsight having perfect vision.

"I'm not sure what that woman did or said that caused Cerberus to agree to help, but she wasn't lying about the cost." David looked from Shepard to Tali and back again, sighing deeply. "No, she wasn't lying about that. Of course, I was never told what would be expected of me until it was time to do it, nor was I forced to pay upfront." David gave an ironic smile. "You know, the more I think about it, the more it sounds like I'm talking about a red sand addiction."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I was allowed to get hooked and fall too far in before being asked to pay. Apparently not too long ago The Void had pulled off a massive score, for them at least, and for the time being they had split up to spend their credits on booze and drugs and cheap asari whores. One by one, locations were filtered down to me and one by one I found and killed them, striking their faces from the picture in my mind as I went. Some of them fought back, some ran, some begged for their life, but I killed them all. I wasn't always. . .humane about it, either."

Trying to suppress a shiver that wanted to work its way up his spine, David pushed the memories of some of the things he had done out of his head, but they would come back. They always did; usually as he slept.

"Finally there was only one name left; Reiner, their leader. The same guy who wanted us to 'suffer', but this time Cerberus refused to give me anything. They said that the time had come to 'earn my pay' and. . .well. . .I guess you know the rest. That's basically how I ended up here."

There was a long silence that seemed to stretch on for hours as Shepard only stood there, watching him, measuring him. David's fate was now in the commander's hands. He used to be so terrified at what would happen to him if he were caught. The idea of failing, of Rin's spirit never resting easy, it disturbed him. She was a exquisite, magnificent soul and what happened to her. . .it was a travesty, blasphemy, yet no one could or would help. David wasn't a warrior. Everything he knew about fighting came from either his own trial-by-fire experience or the knowledge that Rin had gained before her Pilgrimage and then passed along. David went towards each target knowing full well that he could, and probably would, be killed. Dying for his cause was something he thought he could accept, but dying because he had been discovered doing someone else's dirty work? He would not let that happen.

He liked Shepard, he really did. Shepard and Miss Zorah and nearly everyone else aboard the Normandy, but if they tried to stop him, he would fight back. At one time he was afraid, but now that he truly stood at those crossroads between forgiveness or damnation, David found that the fear was gone and in its place there was this odd, almost placid calm.

Shepard spoke up at least, breaking the stillness. The commander looked directly into David's eyes, his voice filled with that authoritative tone that said 'I'm the man who gets things done'. David would give The Illusive Man one thing; he knew exceptional aptitude when he saw it.

"So," Shepard said. "You mentioned something Omega, right?"

The music was loud and all consuming; the deep rhythm seeming to reverberate in his very core as he and Shepard walked down the short hall. The walls were digital screens projecting the image of burning flames and soaking the room with a heavy red tint. As the passed through the second set of doors and into the club itself David was greeted by the biggest holo he had ever seen. The massive tube-shaped projection stood two stories tall in the center of the room and showcased vids of beautiful asari while the real version danced provocatively around on floating platforms. All around them men and woman drank, danced, and fondled one another inside of the club's dome.

Afterlife, this place was called. The young man thought the name was very precise.

"Shepard, I appreciate you not shooting me out of the airlocks and all," David said, having to shout over the driving music. "But you don't have to do this. It's my problem; I should be the one to solve it."

"You're a member of my crew, David," the man called back as they pushed they way across the crowded room. "That means your problems are mine as well. If I can help, then I will."

"That's a noble outlook, Commander. It's going to get you killed one day."

"It already did."

The two approached a short staircase being guarded by a batarian. The man looked at Shepard and then nodded him up. At the top of the stairs, in what David could only guess was some kind of VIP section, there stood a few tables, mostly empty, more guards, a large window that looked out over the club, and a long black couch with a single asari perched casually in its center.

Instructing David to wait, Shepard crossed over to the woman. She looked at him for a moment and motioned for him to take a seat.

"Commander Shepard," she cooed. "Did you need something else?"

"I'm looking for someone," he said.

"Again? I appreciate the things you have done for me, Shepard, but your continued confusion of me with an information kiosk is beginning to grow annoying."

"So is continually having to bail you out of trouble," he retorted.

The asari flashed a wicked smile. "Fair enough. Give me a name and I'll see what I can tell."

"A man named Reiner, human. He's leading a small raider group calling themselves The Void."

The sarcastic smile was gone off of the woman's face in the blink of an eye. Now she had the look of someone who has just bitten into something sour and distasteful. "Reiner," she said. "Yes, I know of him. An arrogant bastard who thinks a few lackeys and matching armor entitles him to respect. He's been an annoyance ever since he first arrived here."

"If he's that bad then why not kill him?"

"There is a difference between an annoyance and a threat. The man might be egotistical, but he's not a fool. His group knows not to cross me or my operations. Besides" she said as she leaned forward. "If I had everyone I found unpleasant killed, Omega would be much emptier."

"So you know where he is, then?"

"Of course. I know everything that goes on in my station. He has a home in the slums. I believe he uses it as a kind of headquarters, but I wouldn't worry about his team; they haven't been seen for some time now. I would beware of the man himself, though. He's like a snake. If you get him in your sights; shoot. Otherwise he may just wiggle free."

Shepard stood up from his place on the couch. "Tell me, Aria; are you always so quick to sell out your residents?"

"Have you ever played chess, Shepard? The pawns exist for no other reason than to be sacrificed in pursuit of a higher goal. Men like Reiner; they're not even pieces on the board. If you want to be the bleeding heart, than feel free. Just don't expect me to shed a tear after he's gone."

"What makes you so sure he's going to die?"

"Because the man is proud, but weak. It's a combination that always leads to challenging the wrong opponent, and if you are on his trail, Shepard, I'd say he's done just that."

Walking into a place on Omega that is specifically referred to as 'the slums' was like heading into the 'unpleasant' part of Hell. The streets were dirty and littered. The people who moved and slept around them were mostly vorcha with a few spots of human and batarian, most of which looked completely strung out on red sand. The smell of urine hung in the air and David felt as thought he had contracted ten different diseases just by breathing the air.

It had taken a lot of searching, several back tracks, and a few bribes before they finally found the address they wanted inside of this sick maze of desolation. The door was completely unremarkable from the thousand or so others they had passed. David had almost been expecting a giant neon sign, advertising to all that this was the home of The Void. Good to see Reiner wasn't a complete fool.

"The door's locked," David said, "But the encryption is crap. Give me a minute and. . .there. Open sez me."

"I wasn't aware you could hack," Shepard commented.

"A little. Rin taught me that."

David reached into one of the large pockets on his uniform and removed from it the only other item he had brought with him aboard the Normandy, the thing he had kept stored away in his locker; a pistol. He had been carrying it for awhile now. It had saved his life more times than he could count and today. . .today David planned to call upon it for one last job.

He checked the thermal clip; almost empty, but all he needed was one shot to put between the bastard's eyes. It almost didn't seem real, how close he was to the end. For so long he had been dreaming of the moment when he could come face to face with the man who had taken everything that was good in his life away. A strange feeling had come over David; some concoction of numbness, calm, anger, and determination all swirling into some emotion of which he knew no name. He was ready to put an end to this.

David began to move towards the door, not knowing what would happen in the next few minutes and at the same time not caring, when a hand came down on his shoulder; the grip gentle, but firm. David looked back at Shepard, his face was stern.

"I want you to think about this, David. Really think. Are you sure this is what you want?"

There was no asking what he was going to do, Shepard already knew, and while David appreciated his concern, it was far too late for him. If there was an afterlife of some kind, some form of Heaven or Hell, than his soul was already damned. Whatever he did now would not change that. The best he could do was to make sure he did not burn alone.

"I'm sure," he responded evenly. "I've waited too long for this. Do not try and stop me, Shepard, but. . . look; whatever happens, I want you to know that I'm grateful for everything you've done. Now, let's just get this over with. On the count of three." Both men readied their guns. "One. . .two. . .three!"

David slammed on the button, the door slid open, and the duo stepped into the darkened lair.

Reiner's home was as filthy and disgusting as the rest of Omega. The ground was covered in stains and littered with trash. The furniture was cheap and torn and covered with more garbage. In one corner of the room an unmade bed stood, its sheets draped halfway on the floor and covered with stains David would not care to identify. A kitchen stood a little ways across from them; its counters dirty and the sink littered with pots and dishes that had gone months without washing. The smell of mold filled the air. Except for the trash and tacky furniture, the apartment stood empty.

"He's here," David said under his breath. "I know he's here."

The two began to wade their way through the sea of refuse as they started their search for the man. The hunt, as it turned out, was not long. Only a few moments after stepping into the room, Shepard's head perked up. With the strong push of an arm he was throwing David to the ground and leaping away in the opposite direction just as the sound of discharging pistol echoed through the room, the bullet cutting the air and smashing into the far wall.

Within seconds Shepard was on his feet and bolting for the direction the shot had come from; a partially opened closet door. He threw it open revealing the human standing behind it. Reiner was a tall man with a bald head and a black goatee. His face was lined with wrinkles and a scar cut across his forehead just above the eyes brows from some wound that never quite healed. Shepard grabbed Reiner's arm and twisted it upwards, causing the gun to fire harmlessly into the ceiling. Using his other free hand, the commander took hold of the cheap pistol and pried it from the man's hands before yanking him out of the closet, hard.

Reiner stumbled across the room and might have caught his balance if his feet did not become entangled around a discarded pair of pants sending the man tumbling to the floor. "Is this him," Shepard asked as David got to his feet.

"Yeah." Even in the dim moonlight, the man's face had imprinted into his brain, always waiting, always visible whenever he closed his eyes. Now this man was on the floor before him; no backup, no weapon.

"I don't know who the hell you people think you are for bursting into my room, but I'll have your heads for-"

David pulled his arm back and stuck Reiner across the face with the barrel of his gun sending a spray of spit and blood across the room.

"Shut up," David commanded, a strange chill settling over him. "Stand."

The man brought his hand up to his bleeding and already swelling cheek, but did not move. "I said stand!"

Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, David pulled the man up off the ground and to his feet. "I found you. It took months but I finally tracked you down you son of a bitch."

"Kid, I've never seen you before in my life."

"Liar," David screamed. With his hand still firmly grasped around the man's shirt, he threw him back against the wall that stood behind him. Reiner's head collided with a smeared, cockeyed mirror shattering the glass and sending large shards raining to the floor.

"'Let him bleed out', remember? 'I want them to suffer', remember?"

Spitting a wad of blood on the floor, Reiner looked up at the young man and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I know you. Took a minute, but I've killed so many people it's hard to keep track, you know? You're the brat traveling with the quarian bitch."

"Don't you talk about her."

"Did you hear the way she screamed?"

"Shut up."

"She loved it. She begged for more."

"I said shut up!" David pressed the barrel of his gun against the man's forehead, digging the metal deep into his skin, his finger squeezing down on the trigger.

Shepard stepped in, gripping on to David's wrist. "Wait," he said. "Think about this."

"He killed her, Shepard! They took of her mask, they ripped off her suit and they. . .they. . ." David swallowed hard as tears began to form in the corner of his eyes. He had tried so hard not to think out it, not to talk about it, but now he couldn't stop. Now the floodgates had opened and every sick and horrible memory that waited behind came spilling out and there was nothing he could do but be swept away.

Rin slept in her hospital bed. All she did was sleep now. Maybe it was for the best. David just hoped that her dreams were of pleasant things.

The young man sat in a chair, his upper body a roadmap of bandages that stretched around his gut and chest and over his right shoulder. Lying on the bed before him, sealed away in clear plastic walls was Rin. She wore only a white cotton gown. There was nothing salvageable left of her suit; The Void had seen to that. An IV was feeding oxygen directly into her nose while a dozen others hooked into her arms pumped her full of antibiotics and pain meds, but the girl was beyond saving, David knew it and he could see it in the eyes of every doctor that saw her. All they could do now was keep her comfortable before the inevitable.

For several days David never left her side. He ate in her room, slept in the chair, and refused to leave for his testing. The nurses and doctors tried to persuade him away at first, saying that if they didn't check his wounds regularly there was no telling what kind of infections could occur. David laughed at that. They were worried about his infections while Rin's body was racked with disease, or at least; an allergenic reaction so strong it might as well have been a sickness all it's own. After awhile the medical staff just let him be.

He talked to her constantly, even though she never answered. He told her about how as soon as she got better they would make the finishing touches on Tilla and then they would go see as much of the galaxy as she wanted. He talked about all the places they would go, all the people they would meet, all the things they would do. He sat there in his uncomfortable rubber-coated chair and spun lie after lie for the girl. Except Rin was a sleep, she couldn't hear him, so who was he really lying to?

In the vids and on TV the ending is always something dramatic and deep; there was hand holding and cryptic last words, a soft kiss and a final goodbye. Real life, though, was rarely so cinematic. Rin's end came at 04:51 Galactic Standard Time. David had been half asleep when he was awakened by the sound of a high-pitched whine. Looking up, he saw the screens that read off the girl's vitals had flat lined and as David had drifted in and out of an uneasy rest, Rin had passed away.

Standing up on legs that felt like the same rubber as the chair he sat on, David moved towards the plastic dome. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle to its only door and pulled. There was a faint rush of air as David stepped into the sterile zone. Reaching out, he took Rin's still warm hand in his own. Brining it up to his lips he first kissed the tip of one finger, then the next. David brought the bare hand upwards and pressed the palm against his cheek in an almost mirror image of what Rin had done the first and only time she had taken off her suit for him. She had gone to the hospital then, too, but they had prepared. They had taken all of the precautions and prescriptions.

The Void was less gentle.

Hot tears began to flow down David's cheeks, creating a small pool where Rin's hand caressed him. That was how the nurse found him several minutes later; standing in the sterile bubble with the quarian's hand against his face, gently weeping.

"No," David said and then repeated the word for good measure. "No, he doesn't get to get away with it, not after what he did, not after what he took."

"Is killing him the best way," Shepard persisted.

"It's the only way!"

"No, it's not. I can call the Alliance and tell them what happened. They can arrest him and-"

"The Alliance doesn't care," David whined. "No one cares! She was beautiful, Shepard. She was beautiful and young and innocent and no one cares that she's dead! I want Reiner dead!"

"So that's what this is all about. You're really just a selfish brat," Shepard suddenly said, his words hitting David like a truck.

"W-what?"

"You heard me. All this time you kept acting like you were doing this for Rin when you were really satisfying your own needs. If you want your cold-blooded murder, than fine, but don't you dare hide behind someone else's name while you do it."

David was dumbfounded. He looked at the commander like a hurt and confused child that isn't getting his way. "B-but he. . .she. . ."

"No more. You're the one that knew Rin, would she really want you to spill blood for her? Look at yourself, David. Do you think she would like what you've become?"

"Why are you protecting him," David screamed, motioning towards Reiner.

"I'm not. I'm protecting you. If you want to kill that man then do it, hell, the galaxy will probably be better for it, but you damn well better admit that you're doing it for yourself first. Don't think for a minute that I'll get you taint someone else's name with your need for vengeance."

David looked back at the man who stood with his pistol buried into the flesh of his forehead. Reiner's eyes were wide; his face splattered with blood, and his lower lip was quivering. He looked weak, pathetic, and David understood that was what the man was. That was why it took a team of five hiding in the dark to take out two unarmed people.

"Show him mercy," Shepard persisted.

"He didn't show Rin mercy," David argued, but in his heart he knew he had already lost.

"You're right. He didn't. So what does that mean if you do the same?"

For a moment David just stood there, caught between two choices. There was so much of him that wanted to pull the trigger anyway, to paint the walls of this shithole with his brains, but the commander's words; the things he said. . .

"Damn you, Shepard," David whispered and he lowered the gun. "Damn you to Hell."

Letting go of the man's shirt, the young man stepped away grasp as Reiner slipped down the wall to the floor where he huddled up.

"You did the right thing," the commander said.

"I. . .whatever. I don't. . .I don't care anymore," he said with a sigh. "So what happens now?"

"Now we get in contact with the Alliance. They'll pick him up and cart him off towards a prison cell where he'll have a long, long time to think about what he's done."

David nodded. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was something and it meant that Reiner would never be allowed to hurt anyone again. The Void was a good as gone and Rin. . .maybe her spirit could rest now. Maybe he could start sleeping again.

"No," a voice said from the floor. "No, I ain't going to jail. You don't get to win, you bucket-loving shit."

David looked down to see Reiner holding a large shard of broken mirror glass in his right hand. Before he could so much as blink, the man brought it to his throat and sliced it open in one fluid motion.

Blood instantly began to gush out of the wound in streams. Crying out, David dropped to his knees and grabbed the man by the shoulders. "Don't you dare," he screamed in the man's face. "Don't you dare die!"

Reiner looked up at the boy's face; a sick and insane smile stretching across his lips, twisting his face into something cruel and horrible. A few moments later, he went limp in the boy's hands. Screaming in rage, David dropped the body and leapt to his feet. He leveled his pistol and unloaded upon round after round into Reiner's chest, causing it to jerk with every hit, until the gun clicked empty in his hands. Even then he still pulled the trigger as if his blind fury was enough to conjure up more ammunition. Finally, the screaming stopped, the dry clicks from the gun stopped, and David stood breathing heavy with sweat pouring down his face.

Shepard began to speak, began to say some form of words that would be hollow and empty, but the young man refused to listen. Spinning on his heels, David aimed his empty pistol at Shepard.

"You bastard! You son of a bitch! I had him! Here was right there and you let him go! What was the point of it all? Why did you make me save him if he was just going to die anyway? Why?"

Shepard didn't flinch, didn't so much as blink. He allowed David to scream, allowed him to have his temper tantrum, and only after he had finished did he talk; his voice calm and even in a way that made David wish he still had one bullet left. "Reiner's death was on his own hands, not yours. It was never a matter of if he lived, but if you could stop yourself from killing him. You said you sold your soul, David. This proves you didn't."

"I was. . .I was too weak to do it myself."

"No. You were given a choice and after everything he did you still found it in your heart to spare him. Revenge is easy, David. Forgiveness is hard."

"I don't forgive him," he said, lowering the gun. "I just. . .couldn't kill him."

"That's as good a start as any."

David looked around the room, filled with trash and filth and blood. The smell seemed stronger now and it made his stomach churn. "Can we go now, Shepard? I. . .I don't want to be here anymore."

The man nodded. "Let's go."

"What will you do now," Shepard asked as they made their way back to the Normandy.

"I'm not sure," David said. "I've. . .been in the revenge business for so long that I don't really know what to do with myself."

"Well, you know. . .we can always use the extra help aboard the ship. Tali says you're a pretty good engineer."

The boy blinked, not sure if he had heard the commander correctly. "You. . .you would really want me back on the ship after. . .after all of that? How do you know I won't keep reporting in to The Illusive Man?" Shepard crossed his arms and gave him a look that seemed to say 'are we really going to have to discuss this'. "Okay, good point. Still, he is going to be pissed when he finds out about this."

"Don't suppose there's anything he can do about it, is there?" The question was asked in half jest and half seriousness.

"Not a damn thing."

"Then let's head back to the ship. There's still the reapers to worry about and I need my crew in working order."

David shot the man a joking military salute. "Yes sir, commander."

Shepard returned the gesture.

He felt better than he had in a long time. For awhile during their trek back he had still been angry, still felt cheated out of his revenge, but at last he calmed and rationality set in once again. When it did David felt. . .okay. Not good, and not great but. . .okay. For the first time in a very long time he felt like he might get some peace. The young man fell in behind his commander and watched as Shepard walked back to his ship; back to the woman that loved him. As he followed David thought that maybe, just maybe, he would sleep easy tonight.

Reaching into his pocket, David removed a small holo. Opening it up revealed the image of a human boy and a quarian girl; arms around one another, both so young and so in love. David smiled at the image and closed his eyes.

Above them a million and one stars shone like gems pressed into the night sky. The air was warm and still and the smell of grass and earth surrounded them as they lay on one of Tilla's wings, looking up at a never-ending vastness that would soon be back in their grasp.

"I want to see it all," Rin said, her head resting upon his chest. "Every last inch. I want to visit the shops on Illium and dance in the clubs on Omega and I want to see every homeworld; Thessia, Kahje, Palaven, Earth, Tuchanka-"

"Tuchanka," David repeated, lifting his head slightly so he could look at the girl. "The krogan? Really?"

"David, the krogan are a beautiful species. So are asari, salarian, turian, volus," Rin rolled over onto her stomach. Placing a hand on either side of him, Rin lifted her body until it was hovering just a few inches above his own; her eyes looking down in to his. "And human, of course. Humans are very beautiful."

Smiling, the young man wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You're beautiful," he said.

"I know," she teased, settling her head back down on his chest. "But it's still nice to hear."

For a long while they just lay there, resting on the wing of their 'child' and watching as the stars twinkled above.

David placed a hand on her shoulder. When Rin craned her neck to look up at him, the young man bent down and placed a soft kiss against the mouthpiece of her mask.

The young man smiled and looked into the deep pools of her glowing white eyes, thinking how he would do anything for her, become anything, say anything just as long as it made her happy. She had become as vital a part of his life as the air he breathed. Of course, David knew that this couldn't last forever. At some point the time would come that Rin would need to finish her Pilgrimage and return to her people. It wouldn't be today and it probably won't be tomorrow, but soon the day would come and it would be the worst day of his life. Until then, however, he planned on making every last moment count, on filling himself up to the brim with her love and returning all that he had and more. It was corny, yes; kind of like what you hear in all of the bad daytime soap-opera vids, but maybe there was a reason for that. Maybe romance was at its heart a silly, cheesy thing; something to be laughed at and at the same time adored. In the end, what did it really matter? As long as you were together and happy, who cares what others may think or say.

The girl chuckled and gave him a playful shove. "What was that for?"

"That was because-

-I love you, Rin," he whispered.

"Goodbye."

The End.