Chapter 7: Pyrrhic Victory

Nyreen was dead. She had just died, right before my eyes.

Some humans believe the grieving process can be divided into five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Well I definitely went through the first stage. I stared at the biotic dome flickering before me for spirits know how long. Sure, she had tossed down what looked more and more like a bandolier of armed grenades. Sure, in that confined space, the trauma caused by all those grenades going off would have killed her—even if the fire did not. But somehow, I wrapped myself in denial, clinging to the slim, impossible hope that she would stroll out of the smoke with a smirk on her face.

The dome flickered again. And again.

And then it died.

The newly freed smoke spread out and dissipated. I ran forward, Aria and Shepard hot on my heels. We slowed down as we saw the bodies. Burned—blackened, really—to a crisp. Twisted. All of them. Including the one at the centre.

I don't know how long I stood there, staring in shock before I realized I was feeling… regret. Regret that I hadn't had the chance to confess my role in reporting her status as a biotic to the Hierarchy. Regret that I had never apologized for condemning her to spend the rest of her military career in the Cabals, forcing her to go rogue, dooming her to a life of wandering throughout the stars until she wound up on Omega. Regret that all the things I meant to say and should have said would have to stay unspoken.

Then I felt a sense of loss. And pain. So many people had died during the last year or so. So many people who didn't have to lose their lives. Better people. It wasn't right that they should die while schmucks like me lived on. But this wasn't just a generic sense of people we were talking about. This was Nyreen. A former soldier. A former comrade-in-arms. A former lover. She was gone now. I felt her loss—and with it, so much pain. I almost keeled over as the loss and pain hit me like a blade plunging into my gizzard. It hurt! It hurt so much!

And from that pain came anger. An errant spark deep down in my core ignited into an inferno of burning rage. I gave into that anger and let myself be consumed by the overriding need for vengeance.

Apparently I wasn't the only one. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aria's eyes narrow. Her hands clenched into fists. Her body erupted into a blinding blaze of biotic fury. "That's it!" she snarled at the Cerberus goons standing before us. "Tell your boss I'm coming for him!"

She didn't know it but right then, in that moment, she was singing my song.

Summoning a whip of biotic energy, she wrapped it around the closest hostile and yanked him off his feet. While he was still flying through the air, she emptied her shotgun into another. Turning her attention back to the first hostile, she struck him with her whip, over and over again, until his face was a charred, bloody pulp.

Dimly, as if from a distance, I thought I heard Shepard say something. It was hard to tell, what with the blood pounding in my ears. And the sound of my sniper rifle as I shot two hostiles of my own. I felt a grim satisfaction watching their heads explode like overripe fruit.

The last Cerberus goon in the area, a Centurion, saw what had happened to his men. Turning tail, he tried to flee. I fried his shields before raising my sniper rifle. After a moment's thought, I adjusted my aim and fired. Technically, it was a bad shot as it only took out his knee. But then, I didn't want a clean kill. Not this time. Instead, I moved towards him and kicked his weapon away. "Aria?" I prompted.

Without a second's hesitation, she swooped towards him. Summoning her biotics, she planted her hands on either side of his head and squeezed. The Centurion's helmet—and head—resisted the biotic force momentarily before caving in with a wet spurt.

Rising to her feet, gore dripping from her face, Aria moved towards Afterlife—walking at first, then a slow jog, before finally breaking into a sprint. The doors slid open, as if sensing her towering rage.

Three more Cerberus hostiles lay waiting in the corridor. They fired as one, hammering her barriers at point-blank range. I could sense their desperation in their body posture and rate of firing, their certainty that they had a narrow window of opportunity to take her down before it was too late. Aria's charge slowed in the face of their onslaught. Then she came to a stop. The boom of her shotgun was drowned out by the barrage of gunfire pouring into her barriers. I saw her drop to one knee. Seeing as how she was being overwhelmed, I raised my sniper rifle—

"Enough!" she howled. Reaching deep within herself, she tapped into some inner reservoir of fury and brought it forth. A wave of biotic energy swept outwards, slamming into the Cerberus soldiers. "I will kill you all!"

Never mind. She was doing just fine.

Jamming her shotgun into the closest hostile, she pulled the trigger. Not to be outdone, I took out the other two.

"Petrovsky dies," Aria declared, reloading her shotgun. "Now."

"No argument here," I replied grimly. Ejecting the thermal clip from my sniper rifle, I slammed a new one home and moved towards the door—which refused to open. Thankfully, Shepard wasn't the only one who knew how to get around an electronic lock.

Sparing a thought for where the bloody hell Shepard had gone to, I finished the bypass and opened the door. Pushing me aside, Aria ran inside. I was right behind her.

We slowed down after a few steps and swept the room. It was… different from the last time I was here. There were no neon strobe lights flashing rhythmically, for starters. No pounding bass trying to shatter your eardrums and your bones. No stench of spilled booze, tangy sweat and fresh vomit. No strippers gyrating in skimpy clothes. No crowds of drunken, horny civvies filled to over-capacity.

Instead, the room was… empty. There were only a few tables and chairs, lit up by a series of light panels shining steadily from the ceiling. The main bar was surprisingly bereft of booze and glasses. In fact, if it wasn't for a few vid-screens showing a digital, never-ending flame, you would never know that this was Afterlife. Nerve centre of Omega. Throne room of Aria T'Loak.

Looking past the bar to the far side of the room and up to where Aria used to hold an audience for her favoured guests and lowly minions, I saw him. Oleg Petrovsky. Cerberus general. The Illusive Man's military genius.

The man who killed Nyreen.

"How does it feel, Aria?" he asked. "To watch Nyreen Kandros die, right in front of you, and know it was your fault? She was a good soldier, a fierce defender of the people of Omega. She stood fast and watched over them while you ran to save your hide."

I swore I could hear Aria grinding her teeth.

"It's a shame she had to die, Aria, after all her accomplishments and sacrifices. All that potential… wasted. Used for nothing but your petty ambitions and then tossed aside like garbage."

Aria's biotics flared to life. "You're a dead man!" she snarled. She ran towards Petrovsky like some asari avatar of vengeance. I watched her charge towards the bar, noting again the lack of booze laid out. Which made the odd arches stretching from the bar like a pair of crowns—or the jaws of some animal—all the stranger. And familiar.

With a start, I suddenly realized why it looked so familiar. "Aria, wait!" I called out.

But I was too late. Aria planted a foot on a nearby chair, planted another on the surface of the bar and hurled herself towards Petrovsky. As she reached the centre of the bar, the 'arches'—which I now realized were mass effect field emitters—came to life. Four streams of energy poured out like bolts of lightning; two wrapping around her hands while the other two grabbed her feet. Aria screamed in rage and tried to break free, but she wasn't strong enough. Before she knew it, she was caught in the middle of a stasis field, hovering in mid-air like a fly trapped in a web. Or a prize trophy on display. The nod of satisfaction from Petrovsky could have gone either way.

"What now, Petrovsky?" I asked. "You've lost control of Omega. There are civilian riots all across the station. And our forces are converging on your location. Surrender while you still can. It's over."

"Is that what you think?" he asked. "Maybe things seemed that way in the heat of battle. But from where I'm standing, I see an entirely different picture. Yes, the civilian population has risen up. Yes, the combined forces of your mercenaries and the Talons are running loose. But my forces are holding the line and keeping yours at bay."

"Other than me and Aria, you mean," I corrected. And Shepard—where was he, anyway? "Not to mention Nyreen. She would have…"

I trailed off as something occurred to me. "She would have been here to fight alongside us," I said slowly. "If it wasn't for the adjutants." I looked up at him suspiciously.

"It wasn't a coincidence that Nyreen ran into them, was it? Not after you went to so much trouble to lock them up."

"Well done," he nodded approvingly. "Those adjutants were the last batch of test subjects, the ones we hadn't finished experimenting on. While Nyreen had demonstrated some… reservations in facing them in battle, I knew that she would overcome her fears if she was given the right incentive."

"You mean if civilian lives were at stake. Guess Aria isn't the only one who 'doesn't care who gets hurt."

"I knew that she would make the ultimate sacrifice if she deemed it necessary."

So much for Nyreen dying for Aria's petty ambitions. But then, it was pretty clear that Petrovsky had picked his words with care. He wanted to goad Aria into doing something rash. To use a human aphorism, Petrovsky had played her like a… what is that human musical instrument? The one with the strings? Whatever. You get the idea.

"And she did," Petrovsky continued, oblivious to the thoughts racing through my head. "In one move, I took out the leader of the Talons, culled the remaining 'feral' adjutants and led Aria straight into my trap."

"And all it cost was the lives of a couple civilians," I said sarcastically. "What a bargain! Especially since they weren't human."

He smiled thinly, refusing to take the bait I laid out, before turning his attention to Aria. "I'd extend my offer of surrender one last time, but I suspect it would be wasted breath."

"Fuck you!" she spat.

"As I predicted," he sighed. "No matter. The fact remains that you are now my prisoner, which will likely have a demoralizing effect on your forces. After all, why bother fighting if your client can't pay?"

"Not all of them are fixated on the bottom line," I said. "Shepard, for instance, will keep fighting no matter what."

"Perhaps you can convince him otherwise," he replied.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because if you can't—or won't—I'll have to fall back to my next option."

"Which is?"

Petrovsky pressed a button on his console. Below him, a door opened. A large, misshapen shadow darkened the threshold before an adjutant lumbered on through. Followed by another. And another.

"These adjutants have been outfitted with a series of neural implants, unlike the ones you have previously faced. The Illusive Man regards them as the prototype for his future army."

"Why?" I asked. "Because they're under your control? Your colleagues—and your boss—had the same idea on more than one occasion. None of them ended well."

"No, they haven't," he agreed, much to my surprise. "Project Overlord on Aite—and his attempts to control the geth. Depot Sigma-23 in the Gorgon system—and his attempts to control the rachni. Chasca—and his attempts to control husks. The list goes on and on. While I have taken the liberty of installing fail-safes in the event they do go rogue, I do have some reservations nonetheless. Which is why I would prefer not to deploy them at all."

"And yet, there they are," I said, gesturing to the slavering horrors.

"I can send them back. All I ask is for you to stand down. Convince Commander Shepard and his forces to do the same. And all this bloodshed can come to an end."

"I can't do that," I growled.

He shook his head. "As you wish." He tapped another button, then looked down at the adjutants below him. "Target the turian. Take him out."

The lead adjutant leapt forward and shrieked. His grotesque buddies stepped forward. I lifted my sniper rifle and took aim.

And that was when the music started.

It started off as a quiet drumbeat, then suddenly grew louder as if someone had turned up the volume. After a few seconds, the percussion was joined by a melody of synthesized music. The adjutants slowed down, confused by the unexpected sounds.

They weren't the only ones. Petrovsky looked around in bewilderment. "What's happening?" he asked aloud.

My lips slowly curled into a knowing smile. Petrovsky might have been a strategic genius, but even he didn't anticipate this development. It was only fair that I offer an explanation. "One word," I replied.

"Shepard."

As a burst of synthesized music began playing over the—obviously hacked—comm system, a series of NavPoints popped up on my HUD along with a single text message:

Stasis generators and control consoles. Activate latter, take out former. I got your six.
—S

All right, then. Time to get to work.

I'll say this much for Petrovsky: he was nothing if not adaptable. He figured out my plan the moment I turned away from him and ran for the stairs. "Hold the perimeter!" he snapped at his pet adjutants. "Keep the turian away from the generators!"

"We're talking away.
I don't know what I'm to say.
I'll say it anyway.
Today's another day to find you."

Roaring out loud, one of the adjutants fired a shot that glanced off my shields. I stumbled momentarily before recovering. The adjutant stretched its arm out to stop me, only to hastily pull back as a bullet, fired from wherever Shepard was hiding, blasted a hole in its hand. That bought me the time I needed to make it to the stasis generator control.

Activating the console, I ran back and found the corresponding stasis generator. Thanks to my earlier sprint, it was now exposed. One shot turned it to a pile of scrap.

"Take on me (take on me).
Take me on (take on me).
I'll be gone
in a day or two."

Spinning on my feet, I ran for the next control console. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aria struggle. "You can't stop me so easily!" she cried out.

"Watch out!" I heard some Cerberus goon yell. "Aria's trying to overload the system!"

I recalled our earlier journey to the reactor and how she managed to make a hole in one of the force fields. If she could do that, overloading the stasis field might be possible. Which might make things messy for anyone nearby. I made a mental note to stay away from her until I'd taken out all the stasis generators, lest I be caught up in the backlash.

Of course, I had to actually take out the stasis generators first. Which might be a little difficult given the adjutant who'd just leapt up to block my path. As I slowed down to line up a shot, a fireball flew down from above to hit the beast right between the eyes. I snapped off an EMP to excite the plasma just before Shepard let off a shot from his sniper rifle. Then I squeezed the trigger on my own sniper rifle to finish the job.

"So needless to say,
I'm odds and ends.
But that's me."

Racing to the next stasis generator control, I hit the activation button, ran towards the next stasis generator, waited for a clear shot and fired my sniper rifle again.

Aria struggled against her restraints as she felt the field weaken. "I will kill you all!" she howled.

"We can't afford to lose any more generators!" I heard someone scream.

"Stop him!" Petrovsky shouted.

I ran to the next control console, ejecting my thermal clip and loading a new one. My ears registered the tell-tale sign of Shepard's sniper rifle firing. Given the number of targets on my HUD, though, it was clear that Shepard was mainly focused on keeping the hostiles pinned down and out of my way. Once Aria was freed and back in the game, then we could deal with Cerberus and their adjutant horrors.

Slapping the stasis generator controls, I ran back out. Crouching down, I peered through the scope of my rifle. The generator was about 27 metres away. Easy shot. Three down, one to go.

"Stumbling away
Slowly learning that life is OK.
Say after me
It's no better to be safe than sorry."

"Enough!" I heard Aria say as I made my way towards the last control console.

"The stasis field's gonna overload!" another Cerberus goon warned.

"Hold the perimeter!" Petrovsky urged.

At last, I reached the control console and powered it up. Leaning around the corner, I propped my sniper rifle against the top of the stairs, aimed and fired. The last stasis generator went up in flames. Within seconds, the stasis field flickered and died.

As Aria dropped to the floor, a jagged burst of biotic energy lanced out like a bolt of lightning. Slamming into a nameless assault trooper, it drove him back into the wall before boring a hole right through his chestplate. "I'm back, you fuckers!" Aria declared as the trooper collapsed. "Omega's mine!"

"Take on me (take on me).
Take me on (take on me).
I'll be gone
in a day or two."

Now that the stasis generators were destroyed and Aria was free, it was time to wreak some havoc. Starting with the adjutant lumbering my way. Shepard must have seen it too, as he sent a burst of plasma flying into its ugly face. I launched an EMP, backpedalled to avoid getting caught in the explosion, took out an assault trooper who got in my way, then finished off the adjutant with a point-blank shot to the kisser.

Shepard finally popped up from wherever he'd been hiding. Pausing long enough to raise his sniper rifle and fire a shot, he ran down the stairs to join me. "Hi there, Garrus. How's it going?"

"Oh, you know. Long day. Destroyed a lot of expensive equipment. Freed an asari crime lord." I fried a Centurion's shields before shooting him in the face. "You?"

"Hacked a comm system, shot various people—including an assault trooper over there. The usual."

"Gotcha."

"By the way, that assault trooper I mentioned? His buddy was an adjutant. Still alive last time I checked."

"Let's find a good place to greet it," I suggested.

We broke into a run, racing through the lower level of Afterlife and up a flight of stairs. Aria joined us after taking out yet another assault trooper. We slowed down to catch our breath, grab a few more thermal clips and figure out where to go next.

The arrival of an adjutant and two more assault troopers answered that question. Shepard and I took out the troopers while Aria hammered the adjutant with her biotics. Shepard launched a fireball, lobbed a grenade and fired a shot from his sniper rifle. Needless to say, he got the kill.

The adjutant was still collapsing when we resumed the hunt for fresh targets. We went around a column and almost ran over an assault trooper who was looking the wrong way. Aria made sure he never got the chance to regret his error.

"Take on me (take on me).
Take me on (take on me).
I'll be gone
in a day."

About thirty metres ahead, we spotted another adjutant. I fired a shot from my sniper rifle while Aria and Shepard gave the horror a one-two punch of biotics and plasma. Just as Shepard plucked another grenade from his belt and hurled it forward, I spotted some movement. Turning to the left, I caught a Nemesis sniper with my EMP. The lightning was still crackling over her body when I blew her head off with a single shot.

Back to the adjutant. Aria and Shepard were busy filling its pale naked body with hot lead. I'm pretty sure it was Shepard who scored the final shot. I know he took out an assault trooper before reloading his rifle.

Aria raised her shotgun and pulled the trigger at another assault trooper. Instead of the usual percussive boom, I heard a dry 'click.' Frowning, she pulled the trigger again, only to get the same effect. The thermal clip had been spent. For a moment, I thought she would eject the clip and load a new one—especially as there were two more troopers closing in on her. Three on one were not good odds when the latter has no ammo. I raised my sniper rifle and prepared to cover her. "Aria!" I shouted.

To my disbelief, I heard her chuckle.

Then she sprang forward.

Uncoiling a biotic whip from her left hand, Aria wrapped it around one trooper's leg and yanked him off his feet. He was still falling as she weaved to the side, dodging another trooper's gunfire and wrapped her right arm around a third trooper's neck. She spun on her feet, forcing the hostile she had in a chokehold to awkwardly stumble along, and kicked the second trooper. As he staggered back, she swung her biotic whip at the first trooper, striking the gap between his helmet and his chestplate with surgical precision. As blood gushed from his neck, she finally released her grip on the third trooper, only to tackle him to the ground. She proceeded to pull his helmet off and punch him once, twice, three times. His cries of pain died down as she continued to pummel him.

The remaining trooper dropped his gun and tried to pry Aria off. Spotting her out of the corner of her eye, she sprang to her feet. She moved to the left as if to sidestep him. Just as he passed her, she whipped her arm out and wrapped it around his neck. They struggled. Then, with a flare of biotic energy, she broke his neck with a wet crunch.

Two down, one to go. Shepard and I exchanged looks and wordlessly agreed to let Aria continue. Unless she was overwhelmed, it seemed rude to step in. But it didn't look like she was in any kind of trouble.

Not until the trooper she had used as a punching bag pulled out a heavy pistol and opened fire at point-blank range.

Aria slowly stalked towards the trooper as he frantically squeezed the trigger, her barriers taking the brunt of the damage. Finally, one of his shots penetrated her barriers and hit her shoulder. Ignoring the pain, she picked him up and threw him into one of the holo-panels. His body seized up, then began twitching as the voltage from the panel's relays coursed through him.

Only then did Aria wince in pain, lifting an arm towards her wound.

"Here," I said. "Let me." I ran a quick medical scan using my omni-tool and determined that she had lucked out: the bullet was a through-and-through. Bit of medi-gel to patch up the hole and kick-start the healing and she'd be fine.

While I was waiting for the medi-gel to take effect, my omni-tool chimed. I looked at the message. Looked again. Stared at Aria as everything started to make sense.

"Come on," Shepard said, unaware of my discovery. "Let's clear the room."

"I'll be gone (take on me)
in a day."

We swept the room, looking for thermal clips and hostiles. We found more than enough of the former. As for the latter, they were all dead.

All but one.

We made our way upstairs to the private lounge on the third floor. Once upon a time, this was Aria's de-facto throne room, where she observed the activities of the Afterlife club and deigned to greet her subjects. Petrovsky has usurped the lounge, along with everything else, when he drove her off Omega.

Speaking of which, we heard his voice come over the comm as we approached the door. "Attention!" he called out. "All Cerberus forces: surrender!"

Did he just say 'surrender'? Shepard exchanged a look with me before he bent down and started bypassing the lock. I raised my sniper rifle and prepared to greet Petrovsky—and whoever else might be keeping him company—with hot lead. Just in case.

Turned out he was alone. And he wasn't in the mood for any further hostilities. "Cease and desist all aggression," he finished as we entered the lounge. "It's over."

He walked over to some kind of game board, where physical and holographic pieces stood in some kind of arcane arrangement. Leaning over, he knocked over one of the physical pieces before flicking a switch on the side. The holographic pieces faded away.

Then he turned to face us. "Commander Shepard," he said formally, "I surrender myself and my soldiers into your custody."

Aria pushed Shepard aside and walked up to Petrovsky, wisps of biotic energy trailing behind her. "That is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard," she said softly before backhanding him.

I think it was the biotic power behind the slap that knocked him to the floor. Petrovsky tried to pick himself up. "Shepard, I'm unarmed," he continued, directing his words towards the saner individual in the room.

Before Shepard could say anything, Aria hauled Petrovsky off the floor and threw him against the game board, sending the various pieces flying.

She put her hands around his throat and began to squeeze. Petrovsky struggled, but he'd apparently been taken off-guard, and Aria had her entire body weight pressing down on him. Maybe more than her body weight—with her biotics, she could increase her mass substantially.

"For all your scheming and planning, you made one mistake: you let me live. Looking back, I think you'll agree it was the biggest mistake of your life."

She doubled down on choking the life out of him. He began to flail more vigorously. "Do you feel that, Oleg?" she whispered into his ear. "That's death. Only inches away."

A gurgle was his only reply.

"Aria, stop." It took a moment before I realized that I was the one who said that.

"Don't go soft on me now, Garrus," she warned.

"You can't change what happened to Nyreen, Aria," I tried again.

"You don't know anything!" she snapped.

"I LOVED HER TOO!"

The words tore themselves out of my throat, filled with pain and regret. Shepard froze. Petrovsky stopped struggling. Even Aria paused in her homicidal activities.

"I loved her too," I repeated. "I know. I know how much pain you're feeling, because I feel it too. But killing Petrovsky won't bring her back. Nyreen wouldn't want you to kill him anyway. She always harped about doing the right thing—even when it drove the rest of us crazy. So I know that she wouldn't want you to avenge her death through cold-blooded murder."

"It's more than that," Aria said. "Nyreen isn't the only one who's died because of Cerberus."

"I know," I said again. "Lots of other people died as well. Like Liselle."

Aria froze. "What did you say?"

"That name sounds familiar," Shepard frowned.

"Three years ago, an asari named Liselle was captured for some mad scientist's crazy experiments," I replied. "A vorcha mercenary by the name of Geirk was hired to track her down and bring her back to Omega. Now Geirk isn't the kind of guy who can be hired by just anybody. You have to walk in the right circles—and have quite a bit of pull—to afford his services. Someone like Aria."

I faced Aria—who was still choking Petrovsky, but maybe not as vigorously—and continued. "Two years later, Liselle bumped into me while I was looking for a person of interest. Seemed a lot of people were looking for the guy and you got a little curious. So you ordered Liselle to intercept me and get me out of the way while you hunted him down yourself. You. Personally. Which meant that Liselle was pretty high in your criminal hierarchy or you trusted her enough to oversee these kinds of things. Or both."

"Get to the point, Garrus," Aria growled.

"All right," I nodded. "When Shepard told us about your proposal, I started to wonder how long you'd spent planning your big return. Imagine my surprise when I found out you'd only spent a couple weeks gathering your forces. After all, you told Shepard that you'd been exiled from Omega. Driven from your own territory. That's quite a blow to your reputation. I figured you'd start plotting your comeback as soon as you left the station.

"Instead, you made your way to the Citadel, found a seat at the Purgatory Bar and proceeded to spend your days knocking back drinks. Oh sure, you had Shepard unite the Blue Suns, Eclipse and the Blood Pack under your leadership in exchange for loaning them out for the war effort, but that was about it.

"Until you got a call. Just one. After that, everything changed. The number of calls you made and received skyrocketed. You began hiring every available merc and soldier-of-fortune you could find, not to mention every ship that could hold its own in a firefight. And then you sent an e-mail to Shepard with your proposal to take back Omega."

Aria grew very still. "How did you know about the call?"

"C-Sec might be mired in bureaucracy and red tape, but even they can't help but notice when Aria T'Loak, the Pirate Queen of Omega, sets up shop on the Citadel. They've been keeping tabs on you. Monitoring your communications."

"The call was encrypted."

"It was. C-Sec was stymied. But I know some people."

"Garrus," Shepard said. "What was the call about?"

"An informant on Omega who was living through the Cerberus occupation. He'd come across a report on Liselle's murder. The initial autopsy report stated that she'd died by exsanguinations after her throat had been slit by a kitchen knife. You blamed her lover, a man by the name of Paul Grayson.

"However, the follow-up examination revealed the presence of a tranquilizer in her bloodstream. The chemical composition of that tranquilizer was patented by a little-known pharmaceutical company… but was recently ID'd as a front for Cerberus. That report also found minute traces of genetic residue on the knife belonging to Kai Leng, a former Alliance soldier who'd joined Cerberus and had become the Illusive Man's personal assassin."

Shepard inhaled sharply at that one. I wasn't surprised. Kai Leng had caused a lot of grief in the name of his master. More importantly, he'd personally killed a good friend and comrade of ours. A reckoning was owed.

But I had to set that aside for the moment. "I guess that gave you more of an axe to grind, but it still didn't explain your behaviour. Not to my satisfaction, anyway. You were acting like Cerberus had hurt you personally. Maybe it was the loss of face when you were booted off Omega, but somehow I didn't think that was it. I didn't really understand what was going on until you got yourself injured just now.

"Before I gave you medi-gel, I ran a standard medical scan—which includes a genetic analysis profile. Nothing cutting-edge, mind you. Just the basic C-Sec forensic package. But it was good enough to automatically run a cross-comparison for any matches. And it found one: a 50% partial match between you and Liselle. The kind of match that you'd find between a mother… and her daughter."

The lounge was so quiet; you could have heard a pin drop.

"That's why you were so hell-bent on attacking Omega. That's why you've been running around half-cocked without any real plan. It had nothing to do with any blow to your pride or reputation, though there's no denying that both took a hit. It had nothing to do with Petrovsky, though going after the man who'd driven you off Omega was a bonus. It was about revenge. Revenge against the people who took your daughter away from you. You'd found out who was truly responsible and you wanted them to pay."

…

"Yes," Aria managed at last. "I did. I still do."

"If you want them to pay," I said, "really, really want them to pay, you'll let Petrovsky live. Let him live because killing him isn't what Nyreen would've wanted. Because turning him over to the Alliance, and having them sweat every last bit of intel out of him, will hurt Cerberus more in the long run."

We stared at each other for a long time, the silence punctuated by Petrovksy's raspy wheezes.

Finally, Aria eased up on her death grip. "Today's your lucky day, Petrovsky," she hissed. You're going to live—for my partners and for the war against your master. You'd better cooperate."

"If not, I have a ship," Shepard added. "And I know the route to Omega."

Behind us, the door opened. Bray marched up the stairs and into the lounge. "Afterlife's secure," he told us. "Reports are coming in: Cerberus troops are surrendering all over the station."

"Good," Aria declared. "Shepard, you and your Alliance can decide his fate. On one condition."

"Yeah?" Shepard prompted.

"While you're running around saving the galaxy, think you'll have time to track down Kai Leng?"

Shepard's face darkened. "Count on it."

Her lips curled into a cold smile. "Be sure to send him my regards."

"Done."

"Good. Now get this filth off my station."

As Aria stalked away, Petrovsky warily rose to his feet. "Commander Shepard, it seems this is where we part ways."

"Looks that way," Shepard said. "Bray, get him outta here."

"A moment, please," Petrovsky requested. "I'd owe this man—Garrus, isn't it?—my thanks. He saved my life, after all."

"Trust me, I'd rather let Aria finish you off," I growled.

"I understand. Nonetheless: thank you."

For once, Shepard wasn't peppering the general with questions. It seemed to violate the natural order of things. Someone had to restore the cosmic equilibrium before it was too late.

"Why surrender?"

Apparently that someone was me.

"Why not… I dunno…" I trailed off.

A faint smile crossed Petrovsky's face. "You expected me to order an all-out assault? Tell my forces to keep fighting, make you pay for every square metre, until your 'victory' tastes as bitter as defeat?"

"Maybe," I admitted.

The smile vanished. Petrovsky looked… insulted. "The men and women under my command went above and beyond in carrying out their duties. They did everything they were ordered to do and then some. I will not dishonour their efforts by throwing away their lives in a frenzy of false and futile heroics. I will not waste their lives trying to change that which cannot be changed. They deserve better than that."

"They went above and beyond because they had no choice," I reminded him. "Because they were brainwashed and reprogrammed by your boss. Because they had their choice and free will taken away from them. Maybe that's the one thing we can agree on: they do deserve better than that."

"Which is why every effort will be made to reverse what's been done to them," Shepard added. "And to offer counselling and treatment should we succeed. They'll need it—thanks to you."

He motioned to Bray, who grabbed Petrovsky by the arm, spun him around and shoved him towards the door. But watching them go, I couldn't help but think that Petrovsky had gotten exactly what he wanted. I thought about it some more. Then I gave up and walked towards Aria, Shepard close on my heels.

She was leaning against a rail, looking down on the lower levels of Afterlife. Below, civvies were slowly starting to trickle in. They moved tentatively, looking around as if seeing it for the first time. It probably was—at least, they probably hadn't seen the inside of Afterlife in a long time.

Aria glanced our way. "I've been waiting to kill that man for months," she told us. "Walk around with you two saps for a few hours, and I go all soft. The two of you are like a disease."

"The victory came at a cost, Aria," Shepard reminded her. "It's not soft to recognize that."

"You sound like a salesman trying to sell something. I admire your tenacity. And thanks to you, I have Omega back."

"So what's your plan?" I asked.

"There's a lot to rebuild," Aria sighed. "Starting with this… command centre. It may take some time to remove the general's stink from my throne." She shook her head. "Wonder if I'll ever really enjoy the pole dancing in here again."

"The citizens of Omega have been through a lot," Shepard said. "Try to remember that when the dancers are shaking their booty."

"How can I forget? There are reminders everywhere I look. And don't worry: I'll honour our arrangement. Troops, ships and a mountain of eezo. You earned it."

"I'll arrange for the Alliance to pick up Petrovsky and the remaining Cerberus troops," Shepard nodded. "Then I'll be going."

"Take this with you." Aria strode over to the game board, picked it up and tossed it to Shepard. "Might as well get the cleanup started. I have a station to whip into shape, after all. If you'll excuse me."

Aria walked over to one of the consoles while Shepard quickly scooped up all the game pieces that had been knocked over during the struggle. With a few keystrokes, she turned on the comm and set it to broadcast station-wide. "Citizens of Omega: hear me. I, Aria T'Loak, have given you back your lives."

Taking credit for other people's work. Figures.

"My rule is reignited. My hand is on the controls once more, and I will not let go again. Each of you owes a debt. Gain my favour by rounding up the remaining Cerberus invaders and…"

She stopped, visibly struggling. To my astonishment, a tear welled up in the corner of her eye. Angrily, she dashed it away before continuing. "…and we will cast them from our home, then bury and mourn our dead.

"My methods haven't always been popular and I can't promise that will change. But securing this station and everyone inside it is now my primary purpose. No one will imprison us again.

"We may be bruised. We may be bloodied. But we. are. Omega!"

'We.' Not 'I'. Well wonders never cease?

As it turned out, we didn't have to wait long for the Alliance. Not long at all. It seemed that Admiral Hackett had managed to cobble together a task force with elements of the Sixth and Seventh Fleets and sent them to Omega. While we were busy scrambling for our lives, the task force occupied themselves by driving off the Cerberus fleet—and the reinforcements they were expecting. Once Shepard got a hold of them, they began sending ships to take on the prisoners.

There were a number of civvies who expressed interest in finding passage off Omega. Some of them just wanted to leave—given the hell they'd just endured, it made sense that they'd want to leave the first chance they got. Others wanted to find friends and family, that had left before Cerberus established the occupation, and bring them home.

A surprising number of those civvies were accompanied by Talons. It seemed that they had been hired as bodyguards—though they insisted the proper term was 'personal protection services.' I'd also heard that the Talons had accepted offers to guard various kiosks, shops and centres—again, they insisted on using 'proper terminology' like 'site security'—at surprisingly reasonable prices.

I think Aria thought this was all some kind of protection racket. She kept those illusions right up to the point where she asked for her cut. Bray had been there when it all went down and gave us a quick recap. Apparently, the acting Talon leader told her that this wasn't some kind of illegal scheme. The Talons had found new purpose in defending and protecting Omega's civilians—from Cerberus and from anyone else who would casually put their lives in jeopardy—and intended to continue as the new security force of Omega. In honour of Nyreen's memory, they would dedicate their lives to establish some kind of order on the station. Their days of smuggling drugs and paying crime lords were over. And there was nothing she could say or do to change their minds.

Aria wasn't happy, but then, she wasn't in a position to force the issue. The strongest, most well-armed and most organized faction was no longer a group that she could bribe or intimidate. The civilian populace knew who had abandoned them and who had stayed behind. She might've reclaimed Omega for her own, but she could no longer rule as if nothing had ever happened.

Rather than argue, Aria chose to concentrate her efforts on other matters. Specifically, organizing an impromptu memorial service for Nyreen outside Afterlife. It was standing room only. The Talons showed up in force, naturally. But there were a lot of civvies too, grateful for everything the Talons had done to resist the Cerberus occupation and ease the suffering they had endured.

Once the service had concluded, Bray walked over to us. "If you're ready, I'll take you to one of the Alliance ships," he said. "They'll get you back to the Normandy."

"You're playing delivery boy? Really?" Shepard shook his head. "You always get these crap details, Bray?"

"Not this time." He looked at Shepard with some measure of respect. From what Shepard had said, that was a far cry from his response the first time they'd met. "You got a galaxy to save. Come on: let's get you off this rock."

Bray led us to a shuttle. Went through the pre-flight checks. Flew us back to some Alliance ship—I couldn't remember which one. Shepard made sure I was settled before leaving to check in with the captain.

I thought about everything that had happened. Despite all the odds, despite all the unpleasant surprises and developments, we'd won. We'd accomplished our objectives. Cerberus had been driven off Omega. They'd lost their staging ground and base of operations in the Terminus Systems. This was a huge victory for the good guys!

And yet there had been casualties. By that, I didn't mean dry numbers on some spreadsheet. They weren't faceless individuals. They were people. Real people with names and families and loved ones. Or former loved ones, in my case. Maybe this was the depression phase that humans—and turians, apparently—go through when they're grieving.

My head jerked up as the door slid open.

"Hey there."

It was Shepard.

"Mind if I come in?"

"Sure."

He sat down next to me on the floor. Which was where I'd been sitting for the last… however long it had been. Apparently I'd eschewed the bed and chairs and desk in favour of the floor. That was probably symbolic in some way.

"So… wanna talk?"

"What, like an after-action report?"

Shepard gave me a look.

"Oh," I said curtly. "Right. That."

"Look, if you don't want to talk about her, that's fine. If you don't want to talk to me about her, that's fine. But sooner or later, you'll have to talk to someone."

"I know."

"So… wanna talk?"

"No."

"Okay."

I'll say this for Shepard: he knows when to give a guy some space. He stayed with me for a long time. Maybe an hour. Then he got up and left—but not before telling me that his room was across the hall and his door was always open.

He came again that evening. Gave me a chance to talk. When it became clear that I wasn't in the mood for conversation, he left—only to return with dinner. He wouldn't leave until I took a bite.

The next day, he came back. With breakfast. Then again a few hours later with lunch. If nothing else, he was determined to make sure I didn't starve myself during my self-imposed isolation.

At some point, I found myself thinking about our mission to Thessia. Or rather, the aftermath of our mission. Things hadn't exactly gone as we had hoped and Shepard had taken it hard. Really hard. I mean, we all did. We all knew the stakes, we all felt the pressure. But Shepard had felt it more. So when Kai Leng had snatched our one big chance for victory right from our grasp—seriously, that bastard has a lot to answer for—he had been crushed. Devastated. I was there for Shepard when he needed it, just as he was there for me now. I offered my support and my encouragement, and I'm sure he was ready to do the same. But he made the first move by admitting that he was lost. By talking about how he felt.

Guess it was time for me to do the same.

When he came back with dinner, I was ready. "Why don't you join me?" I offered.

His face lit up. "Sure," he said.

I finished most of my meal before I was ready to talk. Well, I could've mopped up that last bit of sauce with my fishcake, but I was pretty full. And Shepard was this close to bursting with questions. So I guess I felt sorry for the guy.

"You remember that chat we had just before taking the Normandy through the Omega-4 relay?"

"Yeah."

"Remember how I was telling you how turians work off stress."

"Yeah—wait. That woman who you fought eight rounds in the ring before holding the tiebreaker in her quarters. That was Nyreen? "Damn."

He was quiet for a moment. Then "What was she like?"

"You met her. She hadn't changed that much."

"Then she totally kicked your ass in the bedroom."

"Hey!"

"I bet she gave the better performance that night."

"Look, my performance skills are just fine."

"TMI, Garrus. TMI."

We spent the rest of the night talking about Nyreen. How rigid and inflexible and utterly infuriating she was. How caring and giving and passionate she was. How happy she'd be to know that the people she swore to protect were now free and the hellhole that somehow had become her home was now safe.

She could finally join the spirits and be free.

Author's Note: the song in this chapter was 'Take On Me,' by A-ha. For readers in the know, this was an homage to the series finale of Chuck. Readers who have perused 'Something from the Citadel' and 'Archangels of Light and Darkness' will recognize the call-backs in this chapter. I laid the seeds a long, long time ago and it's a pleasure—and relief—to finally reap the harvest. So to speak.

Hopefully you enjoyed my take on Mass Effect 3: Omega. Now that it has come to an end, I'll return you to my ME3 novelization 'The Hero Rises.' See you next month!