AN: Apologies for the long wait, but the last few months have been a roller coaster of sorts. Writing was pretty much the last thing I could hope to focus on.

But I'm back now. And on we go with the story. . .

The massive ship moved nimbly across the waters, its square white sails using the power of the wind to propel the craft forward with surprising speed. The black flag with its distinctive skull and cross bones waved in the air heralding the arrival of the Normandy, the scourge of the seven seas.

And atop its deck stood a figure clad in red, eyes forward, cutlass in hand. Every man and woman who laid eyes upon her trembled in fear and awe, for she was the most feared pirate in all the West indies.

Those who had seen her fight spoke in hushed whispers of the woman who could clear the deck of a Spanish galleon like it was nothing. A fearsome brute who fought like the devil, and lived on a diet of trouble and turmoil.

She was the Dread Pirate Shepard.

"Arr, at speed, ye scurvy dogs," she growled. "For I be the Dread Pirate Shepard, and I be itchin fer a fight!" She brandished her cutlass menacingly, a demonic glint in her green eyes whose effect was only slightly ruined by the eyepatch-wearing hamster sitting on her shoulder.

She strode over to her yeoman and poked her in the butt. "Arr, show me th' booty, wench!"

"Umm. . . right here, Captain?" Kelly Chambers blushed furiously.

"Arrr. . . not that booty, ye perverted bint!" She poked the ginger once more, eliciting a sharp squeal of pain. "I be th' Dread Pirate Shepard, an' I be as straight as the mast of me ship!"

Kelly looked doubtfully at the large mast upon which the sails billowed. "That's not very straight. . ."

"Arr. . . to damnation wit ye, wretched woman!" Shepard yelled in frustration. "Go to the cargo hold an' bring me an inventory of th' loot!"

"Aye, aye Captain!" The ginger scurried away.

The Dread Pirate Shepard sighed in annoyance. Good help was so hard to find these days.

Her spirits brightened as she spotted an island on the horizon. "Set course fer land, lads! We got a night of drinkin' ta look forward to!"

The crewmen cheered wildly.

"Fifty men on a dead man's chest," she sang. "Yo-ho-ho, an' a bottle of brandy! Drink to th' Devil an' he'll do th' rest. Yo-ho-ho, an' a bottle of brandy. . ."

"It's 'rum', actually," an annoying voice said from behind her.

An irritated Shepard swung around and swiftly stabbed the source of the interruption in the side, grinning at the very satisfying yelp of pain from her quartermaster. "Lawson, ye scurvy braggart," she said. "Have ye gotten a message fer me from th' Illusive Bum?"

"It's the 'Illusive Man'," the brunette mumbled through clenched teeth as she rubbed her abused hips. "And yes, I have. He has a mission for you."

"Hmm." The Dread Pirate scratched her fake red beard with a not-fake hook on her left hand. "Will there be booty?"

"Obviously. Since it'd be impossible to get you to do any work otherwise," Lawson sniffed. "Although why you'd need more booty is beyond me. We already have plenty on this ship." She blushed when she realized the unintentional innuendo in her words, a fact which was not lost on Shepard.

"Aye. I had ye pegged as one of 'em the day I firs' saw ye," the pirate captain nodded. "Just don't get any ideas wit me, Lawson. I be the Dread Pirate Shepard! I be as straight as. . ." she frowned in thought, "the straightest thing aboard me ship!"

Ignoring her quartermaster's stammered protests, Shepard moved to the helm of the ship. "Change course, Joker, ye scurvy wretch! Shore leave will have ter wait!" Her bright green eyes were filled with unholy greed. "We got me some lootin' ter do!"

Suddenly, a large shape burst out of the water, sending a massive spray of brine into the air.

"Shepard. . ."

"Harbinger, ye black bastard!" the Dread Pirate bellowed in rage. "Dare ye come between me an' my loot!?"

"We are the Harbinger of your perfection!" the giant squid announced. "Prepare yourself, Shepard!"

"Turn th' ship around, lads!" Shepard bellowed. "Let's give this bastard a taste of our gunpowder!"

Meanwhile, back in the real world, Garrus Vakarian surveyed the carnage with dispassionate eyes.

He counted no less than three turians, one krogan, and one hanar being led away on stretchers to be treated for severe alcohol poisoning. His eyes roamed across the partially destroyed bar before coming to rest on the sleeping form of his best friend and then, very slowly, turned to glare at the sheepish-looking bartender.

"I-I warned her to stop after her fifteenth shot of Elcor Brandy," the turian bartender protested meekly. "I did! But-but the crazy human with the tattoos threatened to tear me apart if I stopped mixing drinks. No way was I going to say 'no' to a drunk biotic!"

A wise decision, Garrus thought. But not one that did them much good in the end. Once again he took in the wreckage of what was one of the hottest bars on Ilium, before his eyes settled on the source of all this chaos who was lying bonelessly on the ground, groaning and swearing under her breath.

He honestly couldn't believe who was the bigger idiot here: the krogan and his buddies for challenging Shepard and Jack to a drinking competition, the bartender for agreeing to this, Jack for encouraging Shepard to take up the challenge, or the Commander for actually taking their team's resident psychotic biotic seriously.

The stoic drell standing beside him did not help matters in the slightest.

"Thane," Garrus said quietly. "I want you to know, this absolutely isn't what it looks like."

"I understand," the assassin answered.

"You do?" he asked, hoping against hope that Thane seriously wasn't reconsidering his life choices now.

"The measure of a man can be difficult to discern by actions alone," Thane said wisely. "I have already long since committed myself to helping you see this through. Rest assured I have no intention of changing my mind. My arm belongs to Shepard now."

Garrus heaved a silent sigh of relief. "That's good to hear."

"Besides, I must admit I have never worked for someone who could out-drink a krogan," the drell said with the barest hint of admiration in his voice. "This mission promises to be. . . interesting, to say the least."

"You can say that again," Garrus muttered, before clearing his throat. "Alright, we just need to gather these two and head back to the Norma. . ."

"Officer Vakarian," EDI's voice rang in his earpiece.

"Yeah?"

"I believe now would be a good time to inform you that Grunt has been apprehended by Illium's Law Enforcement division for creating a public disturbance."

"What!? What the hell. . . I thought Mordin and Jacob were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!?"

"They have also been apprehended."

"Spirits! But why!?"

"Inciting a public riot in a local strip club."

Garrus shook his head slightly. "EDI, I think I misheard you. Did you just say that Mordin and Jacob caused a riot in a strip club?"

"According to eye-witness reports, Dr Solus attempted to diagnose several of the dancers there with scale itch and a variety of other sexually transmitted diseases," EDI explained. "The asari who owned the club did not take this well, and ordered her bouncers to attack them both. By the time Illium Law Enforcement personnel arrived, Dr Solus and Operative Taylor had neutralized half the targets in the club. In self-defense."

The turian groaned. "I'll be on my way once I manage to wake Shepard up. Thane, could you find your way to the ship? EDI will help you settle in."

"Of course." And the assassin departed.

Garrus shook his head and stared at the passed-out drunk for of his Commander, who'd now begun to drool on the table, muttering impolite slurs under her breath as she battled her arch-enemy in the land of dreams.

Spirits. They don't pay me enough for this. . . . .

Thessia.

Linron gazed dispassionately out the window of her private cab as they drew ever closer to their destination. The sleek towers dotting the skyline of Thessia painted a beautiful picture against the backdrop of the setting sun. Views such as this were a key part of the Asari homeworld's charm.

But Linron wasn't here to enjoy the view. She had far more pressing matters on her mind.

The Dalatrass of the Salarian Union mentally steeled herself for the coming encounter. This was one particularly perceptive individual she was visiting, and as such, she would have to be extra-careful to not give anything away.

Her vessel guided to a smooth halt on a landing pad at the very top of an imposing tower. Linron allowed her security team a few moments to exit before her before rising from her seat and joining them.

Before her stood a magnificent patio, decorated with a variety of exotic plants some of which, Linron idly noted, were housed in artificial environments due to their being not native to the asari homeworld. A few steps rose upwards to a doorway flanked on either side by grim-faced asari, and at their very centre stood the person she'd traveled light years across to see.

"Dalatrass," the asari bowed formally, her hands clasped together. "It is an honor to see you again."

It took a great deal of effort for Linron to not grimace at that statement. Matriarch Trellani was probably the only asari in the galaxy who could really make her nervous. Tall, slender, and extremely beautiful by even asari standards, her attractive personality was matched by an intelligence that would have made even the smartest salarian in the Union look like an idiot. She was also one of the youngest Matriarchs to have a seat on the Thessian Council, which only further added to her image of complete perfection.

It was for this precise reason that Linron did not trust her. She had long since learned to be wary of people who appeared to be too perfect on the outside.

Still, the niceties had to be observed. Linron returned the bow with a polite nod, since that was as much leeway as her aged spine allowed her, and said, "Thank you. I apologize for asking for this meeting at such short notice."

"Not at all, Dalatrass," Trellani smiled. She turned gracefully and led her guests inside the apartment.

Linron took the proffered seat, gently refused an offer of refreshments, and waited until her hostess had perched herself comfortably on a nearby sofa.

The Dalatrass decided to directly get to the heart of the matter. "I received a call from the Triumvirate a few days ago."

A slight quirk of the eyebrow was Trellani's only reaction. Another reason why Linron disliked her. The woman could be downright impossible to read sometimes.

"They seem to be rather. . . concerned about recent developments in the fringes of the galaxy," Linron continued. "The Terminus systems, to be specific."

"Ah," the Matriarch nodded in understanding.

"You don't seem surprised," Linron observed.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Trellani gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. "The Triumvirate has always kept an eye on the unusual events in the galaxy. And "unusual" hardly does any justice to current events in the Terminus systems."

She traced a finger along the rim of her glass. "A Spectre back from the dead, entire colonies vanishing overnight, Collectors venturing forth from the Omega 4 relay. . ." A soft musical note of laughter escaped her lips. "One would've thought of it as the script of a new holo-vid, if not for the all evidence the STG has uncovered."

Linron ignored the subtle compliment. "The Triumvirate seemed more concerned about Commander Shepard's return than the Collectors," she stated.

"And?"

Linron gritted her teeth. The bitch wanted her to spell it out, did she? Very well. "I wanted to know if the rest of the Matriarch Council shares these concerns."

"You're asking me if the Matriarchs consider Commander Shepard's association with Cerberus a threat to the Asari's domination of galactic politics?" Trellani smiled slyly.

The Dalatrass nodded curtly, causing Trellani's smile to widen ever so slightly.

"It is. . . hard to say precisely what they think. The Council hasn't convened for their yearly meeting yet. But there have been rumors. . ."

"What kind of rumors?" Linron asked impatiently. She'd always had little patience for the mind games the asari liked to play. It was difficult for salarians to beat around the bush when their lifespan was already so limited.

Trellani did not answer immediately, choosing instead to gaze out of the nearby window. It was plain to see that she wasn't going to allow anyone to dictate the pace of the conversation in her own home, whoever they might be. "Cerberus has always been an object of curiosity for the Council."

"On one hand, they talk of advancing human interests in the galaxy, yet they have never been very forthright about what exactly that is supposed to mean. They speak of protecting their species from exploitation by the galactic community; yet they have shown no restraint in sacrificing members of their own species in many distasteful endeavors."

Linron almost snorted at that. It was hypocritical of Trellani to criticize Cerberus when neither of their species had ever held back on experimenting on their own. The Lystheni, a race of Salarian outcasts reviled for their extensive cybernetic enhancements, had often been used by the STG for experimentation and black ops missions, and at one point the asari government had been rumored to use Ardat-Yakshi for illegal research on biotics. "Your point being?"

"Why would an organization with such a history invest so much in one single human? Why is Cerberus so keen to help Commander Shepard when her own military, her own beloved Systems Alliance, refuses to take her seriously?"

"I imagine that having several thousand members of your species disappear overnight might be a little inconvenient for them. The Terminus Systems are a fertile recruiting ground for organizations such as theirs," Linron offered dryly. She had no desire to share any knowledge of Cerberus' true motives with the woman sitting before her. "Not to mention that having humanity's first Spectre in their corner will boost their failing reputation significantly."

"There is that," Trellani conceded. "Or perhaps they wish to obtain something that only Shepard can deliver? Something that will give them the edge they need to move against the major galactic powers?"

She let that ominous statement hand in the air for a few moments before getting to her feet.

"Personally, I have no particular grudge against Shepard herself," Trellani murmured. "If anything, I am grateful to her. Her actions at the Battle of the Citadel saved the Council and the Destiny Ascension, both key symbols of asari power in the galaxy, at the cost of so many of her own. So many others would have chosen otherwise."

"But despite everything she has done, one cannot deny that she is a threat to the status quo. Too wild, too unpredictable. . . too reckless to be allowed free reign." She heaved a dramatic sigh. "It is a shame. It truly is."

Linron nodded slowly while her mind raced a mile a minute. Without saying it aloud, Trellani had just given her everything she'd wanted.

Yes, the Matriarch Council considered Shepard a threat. Yes, they were aware that fighting the Collectors was just a ruse for Cerberus to get its hands on some very advanced technology. Yes, the asari (like the salarians) had no desire to let the humans get their hands on such technology.

"I'll take my leave now," the Dalatrass announced. "Thank you for your hospitality, Matriarch."

"It was an honor to host you, Dalatrass," Trellani curtsied. As she walked the older woman out, she asked, "If I may be so bold, how do you plan on solving our little. . . problem?"

"I was hoping to ask a small favor from a few Lystheni clans I know," Linron admitted. They had always been the STG's preferred source for covert assassinations of highly public figures. The Lystheni's outcast status was so well-known that no one in the galaxy would dream of connecting them to the Union."

"An intelligent decision," the asari nodded. "But while their technological prowess is unmatched, the Lystheni are not particularly known for their knowledge of combat tactics. It is unlikely they will succeed against a soldier of Shepard's caliber."

"Oh." Linron narrowed her eyes. It seemed that the wily Matriarch still had one card to play. "Do you have any alternatives in mind?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Trellani smiled, a glint of viciousness in her beautiful eyes. "I happen to know someone who is very eager to settle a score with the Commander and her friends."

At an invisible gesture from her, two asari commandos swept away. Linron heard the sound of a door opening and felt her body tense in fear as they escorted in what could be the largest salarian the Dalatrass had ever seen.

"Who. . . who is this?" she whispered, a chill going up her spine at the sight of the mercenary's mangled face.

"This is Tazzik. I believe you will find him most suitable to the task at hand, Dalatrass."

A few hours later. Normandy.

"Welcome to the Life Support section of the Normandy, Mr Krios. I trust this will be sufficient for your purposes?"

The drell ran over the room once with a practiced eye. Plain, with no unnecessary decorations or furniture, practical, and noticeably more arid than the rest of the ship. Perfect.

"This will do. Thank you," he replied to the AI, which promptly blinked out of existence. Thane waited another moment before walking towards a makeshift bed, upon which he placed a small bag with his meager belongings. He zipped open the bag and made a show of removing a few pieces of clothing, using a quick movement to stick a handgun under the nearby pillow. While he was more than capable of neutralizing anyone aboard this ship with his bare hands, it never hurt to be careful in his line of business.

Not that Thane had any particular reason to be worried. Certainly he trusted Garrus Vakarian, and by extension Commander Shepard, with his life.

Cerberus, on the other hand. . .

He ran another eye over his cabin, casually making a note of the number of hidden cameras and surveillance bugs present. Twelve. . . no, fourteen. Well hidden, certainly not planted by a novice. But not enough to fool a man with his skills.

He mentally considered removing them all before dismissing the thought in an instant. Cerberus already had a pretty thorough record about him, and there wasn't much else that he wanted to conceal. Besides, he had long since learned that the easiest place to hide was in plain sight.

The drell took a seat at the table close to the bed, his mind now going over the events of the last 24 hours. He had to hand it to his turian friend. Things had turned out almost exactly as he'd predicted they would.

His new friend's uncanny knack of being able to predict the future had always surprised him. For while there was no doubt that Garrus Vakarian was an intelligent man, he was no prophet. Yet his certainty towards the future had always struck Thane as fairly odd. Indeed, sometimes it was almost as if the young man had seen and lived through this life once before. . .

But, honestly, what did he care? It was not that unusual for his employers to shroud their methods in secrecy. And besides, it would be rather hypocritical of him to suspect the young turian when Thane himself had benefited more from his strange quirks than anyone else.

It was only thanks to Garrus Vakarian that he was able to reunite with Kolyat. It was only thanks to the Shadow Broker's resources that he more years to spend with his son than his Kepral's syndrome would have allowed him.

Thane owed Garrus Vakarian and Liara T'Soni a huge debt. And in Arashu's name, he would do everything in his power to repay it before the time came to be reunited with Irikah.

Unbidden, his mind went back to the day when he had first made the acquaintance of his benefactors. A smile bloomed on his face as his perfect memory replayed the events of that day, and the series of events that day had spawned.

Whatever the future held, one thing was for certain. This mission was going to be very interesting.

AN: So, I started replaying Assassin's Creed: Black Flag last night, and this idea popped into my head and just wouldn't go away. If enough folks like this, I might consider writing a separate AU spin-off on the adventures of the Dread Pirate Shepard. Lemme know what you think in the comments. . .

Incidentally, I've started writing the next one in the ITF series, which is set between the events of ME1 and ME2. It shows how Garrus and Liara work to get Shepard's body back, and how Garrus and Thane met for the first time. Bonus appearance by everyone's favorite krogan king as well ;)

My only question is: would you, my faithful readers, prefer to have that story as a separate fic or as a series of chapters inserted in this one? I've never actually written a series like this one, and would really appreciate some feedback. Lemme know what you'd like to see in the comments.

Stay tuned for more :)