AN: REWRITTEN. This entire (former) trainwreck of a story is being rewritten. I've moved the outdated chapters to the Doc Manager so nobody has to suffer through them anymore.

Reviews of all shapes, sizes, and Caps Lock configurations are welcome.

AUDIO LOG # 000157935

Note: Considering how much damage the recording unit sustained, it's a miracle we managed to recover anything viable without Luna. Send to Luna for VI-assisted final restoration.

DATE: ERROR

WARNING DATA CORRUPTED

So, this is what elite special forces do, huh? Repair mining ships? Well that's just great. Heh, maybe-WARNING DATA CORRUPTED

Jesus Barnes, what are you, 5? The boogeyman isn't gonna fly out of one of a vent. If you're gonna be such a pansy, then I'll do it. Just give me the damn cutter. Ha ha, that's very funny Shep-WARNING DATA CORRUPTED

Something's wrong. Houston went to look for the captain three hours ago. He should have been back by now.

Something's scrambling my electronics, I can't get any of the others to respond. And where the hell is the crew? There was some kind of fight on this ship, we saw a lot of blood when we went through the bridge but no bodies. No bodies anywhere.

This place smells like shit. And cheap perfume. And vomit.

"-of course, that means that Tarak's group would likely take the promised shipment-"

Why am I here again?

"I don't care how you idiots organize your shares, just get it done. I don't like being interrupted in the middle of a conversation."

Oh right, that's why.

With the creaking of leather, cold blue eyes and a raised eye ridge turn to me.

"Red, do you have any wisdom to add?"

Get better taste in music. "Well if you already insist on using mercs for a recovery job, you'd be better off with Eclipse or CAT-6 than the Blue Suns." My ever-present helmet modulates my voice, making it sound oddly distorted.

The second eyebrow joins the first. "You're not recommending your own people?"

I take a look at the brandy placed on my end of the couch, briefly contemplating whether I should give up my anonymity to take a calming swig. "I'm afraid my men have filled their escaped worker recovery quota for the fiscal year."

"Fair enough." The Queen of Omega turns her gaze from me to our dear, horribly nervous, interrupting, guest.

"You'll get your recovery force, Ellerne. From my own people."

The breath the asa -Ellerne was holding in rapidly escapes her lungs as she closes her eyes and smooths the lapels of her suit jacket. It's emblazoned with a turquoise diamond encircled in white- Illium Mineral Acquisitions. Galaxy's fifth largest precious metal ore exporter. Net quarterly revenue: 1.8 trillion credits. Deep pockets paired with loose morals.

A smirk worms its way onto Aria's lips while Ellerne expresses her eternal gratitude.

"Of course, I expect a fifteen percent increase in... diverted shipments. For my troubles."

Ellerne's relief is short-lived.

"I-I-" She looks desperately to Anto, at her side, and then to me, presumably for help.

She finds none.

"A-alright. I can do that. Fifteen percent. Got it."

She says it as if everybody didn't just see her practically soil her dress pants in fear.

"Good. Now get the hell out of my club."

After Ellerne pitters and patters away through the crowds of Afterlife, Anto, ever the loyal second-in-command, steps back into his position guarding Aria's stairwell. What a job.

"Well now, with that out of the way I think we can continue our discussion." The Queen pulls the lapels of her jacket forward, reseating herself on the oversized couch we're both occupying.

I look down at the oddly pristine floor, briefly considering how much longer we have left until everything goes to shit.

"Well? Don't keep me in suspense."

I turn to meet her eyes and I think in that instant she realizes she isn't going to like where this is going.

"I'm gonna have to accelerate the timetable. We dawdled for too long with the Initiative." At least it's done now. In case everything goes really pear-shaped.

A slight, almost imperceptible widening of the eyes is the only indication anyone would have of an actual reaction from her Highness.

"So that means-"

"Yes." I interrupt her. Probably the only one who can without being immediately killed. Now there's a privilege. "Soon. This is likely the last time we'll see each other in person before Phase One begins."

She reclines in her seat, looking up at the myriad of lights sparkling above, like stars on a mountaintop. "Are the others ready?"

"I hope so." A sigh escapes me, and for the first time in decades I feel... apprehensive. "Otherwise this was all for nothing."

A quiet chime from my Omni-Tool draws my attention.

Hello, [$CUSTOMER_NAME]!

Thank you for choosing Castaris Transportation Solutions!

We are glad to inform you that your shuttle to Arcadia Orbital Relay Station is ready!

Departure time: 23:45 EST (00:03:59:56 from now)

Disclamer: CTS is not responsible for any rapid decompression that may or may not occur on CTS registered vessels. All rights reserved.

"That's that, I guess." A quick counter-clockwise turn of the arm closes my Omni tool. "Don't miss me too much."

She doesn't look very amused. I can't tell if the steady thumping in my chest is my heart or Afterlife's playlist.

For a second I fool myself into thinking the slight smile on Aria's face is genuine. "Good luck, Red. You're gonna need it."

Ain't that the truth.

8 days to go until Phase One initiation.

Time to brush up on my Geth anatomy.