Collective thinking is usually quite limited, short-lived. We're fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction.

The Reclamation Effect

Epilogue

Ep-i-logue (noun)

1. a concluding part of a literary work, as a novel.

Afterlife pulsed with euphoric energy, a constant wail of pleasure and payment blending endlessly, reverberating off the cheap walls. Aria T'Loak smiled, crossing her legs in silent victory. A gesture of comfort, by turian body language. Rakora snarled, hand clenched in impotent anger. There's nothing physically separating the two of them but she might as well be halfway across the galaxy for how untouchable she is. Infuriating.

The chances of this working are minute, almost nonexistent. But it doesn't cost her anything, and the reward is excellent. When else might she get a chance to duel a master again?

"You will do nothing?" Rakora demanded, and she knew he was longing to her throat out. His arm was still weak from the human's attack and she knew his leg would need weeks to recover fully. Her guard shifted tensely, but she didn't pay much attention. He'd kill armies of them without the satisfaction of a single good kill.

No, the reason Rakora stayed his blade was because she was too strong, too daunting. Aria T'Loak. Everyone knows the name, few know the history. Before the arrival on Omega she was a commando. That was common speculation, everyone knew that. Before she was a commando, though, she was a princess. Aleena T'Maia, heir to one of the Thirty families of Thessia. That, she wouldn't be surprised if the Broker knew.

It was the heritage that gave him pause. All Asari hailing from the Thirty were somehow more dangerous, more deadly than other Asari. More biotically potent, swifter of mind. It was said that they never produced Ardat-Yakshi, that their genes were purer than any other. It was not wise to meddle with one of the Thirty if you weren't entirely sure of yourself.

"Why should I?" Aria responded. "It wasn't any part of our deal. We aren't allies. Buyer and seller, if you'll recall. If you can't keep your hands on your property, how is that my concern?"

The Turian wasn't surprised Aria was being difficult. Aria's organisation had long butted heads with the Shadow Broker's network, mostly over issues of Broker agents on Omega. Theirs was a strained relationship, but also at times a profitable one.

Rakora turned on his heel and walked as ably as he could away, seething in quiet anger. Nobody had the right to defy the Shadow Broker- not the Council, not Aria T'Loak, certainly not some fucking human from the ass-end of nowhere.

Aria watched as the Turian left, releasing a slow breath. For a second she thought he would fall for it and come at her, but he was smart enough to walk away. For a second she toyed with the idea of sending her people after him; losing Rakora would be a significant blow to the Broker's network across the galaxy. Then she dismissed the idea, curling up on her couch with the self-satisfied air of a victorious feline.

She contented herself with knowing that it might even work. But the losses her people were sure to suffer would have been counterproductive and besides, there were plenty of people in the galaxy willing to remove the Dagger's head from his shoulders. The Hierarchy, for one. They'd love to get their hands on the most notorious ex-cabalist of all time.

Cerberus, for another. After this little number, the Broker and Cerberus would tear one another to shreds for her. Apart from her, they were the two most dominant powers in the Terminus systems, or soon would be. Why involve herself when she could just sit back and take victory in the end?

She had to admit, the ragtag group of humans and Drell had put on quite a show. Snatching the body of one of the greatest galactic heroes of the modern age from under the nose of the Shadow Broker's most famous and deadly lieutenants, as close as one came to being his right hand? Yes, that was a story she could spread. Cerberus needed some help, after all.

Too bad about the Batarians, but really. They were far less interesting than anyone else. Besides, they broke Omega's one rule, using her tunnels and firing on her people. Maybe she should leak that someone affiliated with the Alliance killed them. That might be fun.

A shame Parker had chosen the human-supremacists, really. She could have used someone like that in her own organization. Then again, the way she'd thrown the boy and his friends to the wolves, she doubted he'd work for her. Conventionally at any rate. He survived an assignment that killed one of her oldest friends, so he was certainly difficult to remove.

Tobias Parker, Miranda Lawson, The Illusive Man and his pawns against Tetrimus Rakora, the Shadow Broker and the most powerful information network in the galaxy.

Well. The next few years were certainly going to be interesting.

"We failed," the flanging voice declared honestly, a tinge of shame in the tone. Hmm, there was something else too. Regret? Anger, most definitely. Pain. No fear, something he noted pleasantly.

"I'm surprised," the voice said. He wasn't often surprised, and when he was it was almost certainly a matter of galactic importance. The supplicant Turian lowered his head in silent apology. As well he might. "But only slightly."

Tetrimus Rakora's head rose at the last three words, eyes confused. He'd seen his employer execute failures, destroy governments over failure. And yet, a blunder of this magnitude only rated such a small response?

"This Tobias Parker. What was your opinion of him?"

The Dagger hesitated. The human whelp? He almost said an irritation, but restrained himself. There was no such thing as a simple conversation with the Shadow Broker.

"A competent biotic, to be sure," Rakora began slowly. "Not master-class, but he has the potential. Impulsive, self-confident to the point of recklessness. Rough, unpolished. He is one who will use whatever means necessary to accomplish his goal."

"And yet he surprised you. Almost defeated you." The rebuke was unspoken, but still apparent.

The ex-Cabalim growled. "He was fortunate, and I underestimated him. It will not happen again."

Especially now that the human had shown his hand. Burst, the whelp had named it. He would have to add it to his repertoire once he unravelled its secrets.

"No, I dare say it will not. I give you this task, Tetrimus. Find Project Lazarus and raze it to the ground, leave nothing but ash. But this human, this Parker. Bring him to me. Alive. The corpse of the late Commander you will also recover. However, I will say this: Commander Shepard is your secondary objective. Do you understand?"

Rakora bowed, stitches in his leg aching, a tangible reminder. Why the whelp was so important, he didn't know. Still, that was no reason not to obey. Everything would become clear in time. "I understand, master."

The Shadow Broker smiled, his slight silhouette tapping the desk in thought. "Good. Leave us."

The disgraced Cabalim withdrew soundlessly and the figure in the chair smirked. So, he'd been correct. The Human had indeed shown up. "Well?" he asked the empty room, his voice substantially more respectful.

"We were correct," a Batarian voice responds. Female, obviously satisfied. "What about Rannoch?"

"Rannoch doesn't -hkkk- matter," the second audio feed counters, condescension obvious. "This may break the deadlock."

Silence reigned for a long minute.

"Will he side with us?" The Broker asked quietly.

"He has joined Cerberus," the Batarian responds, deep in thought. "It will be difficult. We must hope he has chosen to do so out of some loyalty to his Commander."

"And -hkkk- Sur'Kesh?"

"Sur'Kesh… yes, Sur'Kesh is a problem," the Broker murmurs. "He may move just to regulate the balance." He scowled. "The Human is too unpredictable. He doesn't understand his place. If we uplift him, he will join us."

"Conclave," the Volus voice suggests calmly. "With -hkkk- all of us."

The Broker chuckles. "Conclave. We haven't held one of those in ages. But it may solve our problem. In favour."

"In favour," the Batarian declares.

"Excellent," the Broker concludes, voice carrying his smile. "Let us decide the fate of the galaxy once more."

Liara T'Soni awoke to fire and agony. Her first instinct was to scream, an impulse she clamped down upon only with years of training. Her only response to the searing flames in her body is a muffled grunt and a clenched jaw.

Beyond eyelids squeezed shut, Liara sensed light. Bright enough that she could tell, light enough that she felt compelled to open her eyes if only to take it all in.

True light had been very scarce on Omega.

The scarred Asari forced the pain to the side, looked around the white room. As the pain receded she began to hear sounds; the soft beating of a heart monitor, the steady hum of power generators inside the walls. Soft music playing from overhead speakers. That movement was… Sonata of the Tides?

There was a window, the source of the light. Natural light, almost burning after her sojourn on Omega. Even the Citadel didn't compare.

She recognised the view. The verdant plains, the wide lakes. She was home. Her heart rate fell, her frantic breaths easing. Home.

As if on cue, another Asari garbed in hospital dress quietly entered the room. "Dr. T'Soni," she began. We're glad you've returned to us. How do you feel?"

"I feel like my neck is on fire," Liara responded, voice taut with pain. "What happened?"

"You were injured by a bomb blast," the doctor began. "I'm sorry, doctor. Your injuries were very severe. We managed to stabilise you, restore most of the lost tissue. Do you have any idea what hit you?"

Images flickered behind her eyes. Running to help Feron, Parker trying to say something. Then, blue fire and noise and nothing. Darkness.

"No," Liara said, shaking her head tenderly. "Nothing. What was it?" A thought struck her, a niggling lack she'd felt since she awoke. "Am I alright?"

The paramedic took a breath, steeling herself. "No. No, I'm afraid not. The blast was some kind of element-zero destabilisation device. I've never heard of anything like it. We're still not sure of the details, but your cerebral cortex was very badly damaged. Some of the blast particulates entered your body and lodged in your nerves and bloodstream. We theorise it's why you feel pain, why painkillers are ineffective. By now the particles have travelled through your entire body multiple times. I'm sorry, Dr. T'Soni. The weapon has burned out every gram of element zero in your body."

Liara gagged, her mouth handing open in stunned horror. "But that- I can't-"

"I'm afraid so," the paramedic confirmed, her own face pale. "You will never be able to us biotics again."

"Get out," Liara said, dazed. The attendant made no move and something in her snapped. "I said GET OUT!" she screamed, throwing her hand out in a violent arc, channelling biotic power to force the woman though the door. Or the wall. Anything.

Nothing happened. No glowing. No power. Just burning agony.

The scarred Asari, crippled, dropped her head into her hands and cried herself to sleep.

It was night when she awoke, roused once more by searing pain. This time she took it with an iron hand, forced it to a target. The Shadow Broker. He was responsible for all of this, for Feron's death, for taking her birthright. Parker wouldn't tell her anything, out of some misguided desire to protect her or something else she didn't know.

But even he could give something away. When he woke screaming in the middle of Mordin's surgery it had to mean something. It had to.

She brought up her omnitool, lighting the room with orange luminescence. It might take her a while. That was fine. But she would find him eventually.

She typed the word Parker had been screaming into the search bar.

'Hagalaz'.

A/N: This is the second epilogue I've done for this series. Two down, two to go. Or three. I haven't decided yet. Oh well. I'll figure it out.

Anyway, this marks the start of sorts for the plot of ME2, which was the game that originally got me into the MEverse. ME2 was an absolute masterpiece in my opinion, and I can't wait to get into it. For everyone out there looking for something fresh and original woven into the regular plot, you'll definitely get it. We're getting very close to the point where I'll change the tag from 'increasingly AU' to flat out AU. It's going to be great!

Also, this is the LAST CHANCE YOU'LL GET TO VOTE IN THE POLL regarding whether or not we go straight to Lazarus Station. I didn't want to divulge this until it was down in the story, but I'm toying with the timeline pretty heavily for ME2. Some things will happen really early, much earlier than they do in canon. That might change your mind regarding the poll, I don't know. I'll wipe the current results so you can all vote again. Please weigh in if you have a moment! If I can make the story better for everyone I'd certainly like to. Reviews are another way to speak your mind, I'll count a review as two votes J

I won't say much, because honestly I did the whole ending-of-the-story thing last chapter. So, I'll just give my shoutouts: DelVar0 for his advice, confidence and honestly just having a voice to talk story with is really, really great. The Extroverted Recluse for her amazing ideas and grasp of story-crafting, of what to do and how to do it. She's really, really brilliant. Plus we find out what gender our little marshmallow is tomorrow! :D :D :D

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this story and that you enjoy The Resurrection Effect just as much!