Vincent Shepard lay on his back, stretched out on his bed, gazing blankly at the ceiling of his captain's quarters. His new and improved captain's quarters. Complete with a lounge area for drinks and a giant fish tank running along the wall. There was even a case for collecting model ships. He snorted. What a joke.
Two years ago Vince had met his fate at the hands of an unknown vessel. After being left for dead by the Alliance, the human-interest group Cerberus had spent millions, and all the time since then, to reconstruct and revive him. What an honor, he mused. He put his arms up, clasping his fingers behind his head. He had been right about one thing – the geth activity he had been investigating led him to where he needed to be, even if it led him to his death. That unknown vessel belonged to a race called the collectors. Shady beings that were lurking somewhere beyond the edges of traveled space, the unexplored other side of the Omega-4 relay, were now the ones linked by Cerberus to human colony disappearances.
Vince wasn't surprised that the allianceAllianceAlliance did nothing. They'd never put much priority on the outer colonies in the first place. If Cerberus would get the job done, then Cerberus it was.
The intercom buzzed next to him. "Commander," it was his cute little yeoman, Kelly Chambers. "You wanted to know when we were entering the approach vector for Omega."
He rolled over and tapped the haptic interface. "On my way."
He decided to stop by the armory first. His arms master, Jacob Taylor, was in the process of taking apart his assault rifle and cleaning the parts. Vince leaned casually against the weapons locker and crossed his well-muscled arms, preferring the sleeveless freedom and utility of his old raider vest. His roughshod brigandine outfit, combined with his silvery hair, yellow-green eyes and the scars on his tanned unshaven cheek and chin gave him all the look of a rogue smuggler.
Jacob, by contrast, was zipped tight in his Cerberus utility uniform when he snapped to and had to stop himself from saluting. Still ingrained in the alliance ways, Shepard thought with a smirk.
"Commander," Jacob rocked on his feet. "We ready to go get this doctor?" His brown eyes seemed brighter against his dark skin. Shepard noted reluctance in them.
"Did your time in the corsairs ever bring you out this way?" Vince recalled their earlier conversation at the station. "Alliance doesn't mess with the Omega system much, even the black ops groups like your corsairs and my N7 Echo team."
Jacob shook his head, relaxing a bit. "Never been out here either. I heard about what you N7 Echoes did on Torfan. They promoted the shit out of that story, saying you were the tip of the spear that broke the defenses of those batarian slavers." He watched Shepard closely, "I heard it was brutal. The batarians still call you the Butcher of Torfan."
Vince's yellow-green eyes narrowed in remembrance. "We killed every one of those bastards because they deserved to die," he said matter-of-factly. When he looked at Jacob, there was gravity in his gaze. "If you would've seen what they'd done… Fuck those batarians."
Jacob folded his arms to match. "I believe it, Shepard. The alliance has been covering their dirt up for years. Even after watching them dishonor my fallen brothers when they didn't have to, because they had to protect their precious reputations, it took counselor Udina backsliding on his promises to make me walk away. Cerberus gets shit done. I might not agree with all their methods, but I'm only part of the Lazarus cell, and what we're doing is important because nobody else is doing anything." He seemed to think about it, "Did you know that after you died, the alliance hid that from the public for almost a year."
Vince raised his eyebrows with mild disgust. "Really?"
"Yeah," Jacob nodded, "They used old photos and shit for recruitment promotions. For a good six months you were all the rave in the alliance. When they ran out of legit footage, they just made fake vids until people started questioning it. Then they had a funeral." He snorted.
Shepard lifted off the locker with a sigh. "We do this our way from here on out. Cerberus can pay our bills all they want. We know why we're doing this."
"Amen to that," Jacob agreed. "You headed out then?"
"Yeah," Vince answered, "After I have a quick chat with Jack and Miranda."
"Hah," Jacob laughed. "Good luck with that. Miranda was pretty upset when you ignored her request to come to Omega first. She'll do whatever the mission requires, especially if the Illusive Man is pushing it, but I don't think even she wanted to go to Purgatory at all."
"She didn't seem too excited at the notion," Vince chuckled. Then in seriousness, "I spent enough time in a cell to know anyone that's going to be part of our crew doesn't deserve to rot in prison any longer than they have to."
"Your instincts were spot on this time," Jacob admitted. "That crooked ass warden is everything wrong with privatizing prisons." His face soured. "Greed and power."
"Piece of shit tried selling us out," Vince grunted. "I still need to speak with Miranda about Illusive Man's guarantees. We can't afford to get blind-sided by any more of those."
"Most def. The warden must've been offered a lot of money to go against the Illusive Man. I'd like to know who's throwing around that kind of cash."
"Cash," Vince said fondly. "Haven't heard that word since I left Earth. They still say it in Detroit..." His look became distant as his thoughts began to drift. He dismissed them. "You've got the deck until I get back." His golden green eyes flashed as he smiled. "Time to see if this seedy-ass spaceport lives up to its reputation."