Chapter Text
Magdalene.
She turns the name over in her head. She can’t remember where she first heard it. Maybe on a vid, or in something she read. But each time she tries to think of a name, it pops into the forefront of her mind.
Magdalene Shepard.
Well, maybe not the Shepard part. After her doctors on Ilium blabbed, the last thing she needs to do is link herself to the Commander. Especially not since they look so similar. Even after the surgeries and the hair dye and the colored contacts, if someone were to really look, they would see the Commander’s DNA hiding there.
Magdalene – she’s decided that, yes, it’s as good a name as any – glances around the club suspiciously. But no one is paying her any attention. They’re watching the asari dancers, or dancing themselves, or drinking until they pass out. She sips at her own drink, comforted by her invisibility. A quarian sits down beside her and signals the bartender for a drink. Magdalene glances at her warily, but relaxes when she seems largely uninterested in who she’s sitting beside.
“Didn’t think I’d see you around anymore,” the bartender says, sliding the quarian a drink.
“Why’s that?” the quarian asks.
The bartender shrugs. “Figured you’d be dead. Or on the home world.”
“Magnus, you know me better than that,” the quarian replies, her tone playful and chiding. She takes off her mask and sets it on the counter. The action surprises Magdalene- she’s never seen a quarian face before.
Quarians look fairly human, as it turns out. The main difference Magdalene notices off the bat is the eyes. They’re slightly bigger than a human’s, and have long black eyelashes. This quarian’s irises are silvery, and she doesn’t seem to have pupils. In the pulsing light of the club her eyes seem to be almost…luminous. Her skin is different from a human’s as well. It’s a strange off-white color, and there are faint brown markings that curve over her large eyes.
The bartender – Magnus, apparently – stares at her in shock. “That a good idea, Raela?”
“Relax,” she says. She downs the drink. A faint shudder runs down her body, and she smacks her lips. “I’ve got the immune system thing covered.” She gestures for another drink. “Isn’t that right, Tick?”
“Affirmative, Creator Raela,” says a synthetic voice, seemingly from nowhere.
“Shit- you have one of those things in your suit?” The bartender seems astonished as he passes her another drink.
“Yeah. A bunch of us do now. They’re bolstering our immune systems like you wouldn’t believe,” Raela says. She smirks. Magdalene notices she has other markings; swirls of light brown underneath her eyes that extend into stripes across her cheeks.
“Is it safe?” Magnus asks. He cleans out a glass and looks at Raela skeptically.
“Yeah, it’s safe,” Raela says. “The geth weren’t programmed to hold grudges.”
Magdalene finishes her drink. She stares into the empty glass and blocks out the banter between the bartender and the quarian. So, she has a name at long last. Now what? Where is she going to go? Maybe she can get a job here on Omega in a shop somewhere. People here tend not to ask a lot of questions. So she’s heard, anyway.
“What about you?”
Magdalene looks up to find both the bartender and the quarian staring at her. She says nothing and simply stares back at them.
“Another drink?” Magnus asks again.
“Uh. Yeah, sure,” she says. He turns to make her drink, but the quarian’s attention stays on Magdalene.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” the quarian says. She swirls her drink in her hand, apparently pensive. It’s strange not hearing a quarian speak through some sort of filter. The mechanical element to her voice is lost.
Magdalene raises an eyebrow. “You come here often?”
“All the time,” she says, a small smirk on her face. “I like Omega. It’s…exciting.”
The bartender slides Magdalene her second drink and leans against the bar. “Raela is the only quarian I’ve ever known to enjoy being away from the Flotilla.”
“I love my people,” she says. “But the Fleet was crowded and dirty and I didn’t want to spend my whole life policing people on liveships. I wanted to see the galaxy. So I became a special forces marine. And it worked out for me.”
“What about Rannoch?” Magdalene asks. She knows that Tali was spending most of her time there; she only came to the Citadel to visit ‘Shepard.’
Raela simply shrugs. She opts not to answer, and instead continues to question her. “So what brings you to Omega…?”
“Magdalene,” she says.
“Magdalene.” Raela rolls the name over her tongue. “Kind of long.”
“I like it,” Magdalene says, a bit defensively. She’s had the damn name for ten minutes and people are already criticizing it. Great.
“Can you really say anything about long names, Raela’Shinar vas Nuraka?” Magnus says teasingly. The look he gives her is almost flirtatious.
Raela smirks and dismisses the remark with a faint wave of her hand. “I’ve nixed the ‘vas Nuraka’ part now. I’m not on the crew of anything. None of us are. I’m just plain old Raela’Shinar.” She looks back at Magdalene. “So. Mags. Where are you from?”
She gives her a suspicious look. “Why do you care?”
“I like talking to people,” Raela says.
Shit; she didn’t think about this. People will eventually want to know about her if she stays here. Where she grew up, what her family is like, that kind of shit. Magdalene hasn’t given any thought to a fake backstory, but she’ll need one. It’s not like she can explain to people she’s a force-grown clone. “I…grew up on Elysium.”
“Were you there when Shepard saved the colony?” Magnus asks almost immediately.
Shepard, Shepard, Shepard. Can’t people talk about something else for once?
“No,” she says quickly. She sips at her drink. “I left when I was eighteen. Before the Skyllian Blitz.”
“What do you do?” Raela asks.
“I’m a merc.” It’s surprisingly easy to lie. A story quickly comes together in her mind. Born on Elysium, left to go make her own fortune as a mercenary. She’ll tell people she had very loving, supportive parents. She would have liked to have had parents who loved her, anyway. Her parents are Shepard’s parents, and God only knows where they are.
Raela grins. “Oh, really? Well-”
There’s a sudden crash that gets all of their attention. A krogan, it appears, has thrown a human into a table. One of the bouncers rushes to detain him, but he gets smacked aside like he’s a fly.
Magnus frowns. “Oh, Aria’s gonna be pissed.”
“Keelah,” Raela says. She reaches for her mask and clicks it back into place over her face. “Mags, help me with this.”
For a moment Magdalene just sits there. Then, hesitantly, she gets up from her seat and follows Raela over. Most of the patrons are backing away from the angry krogan. He’s massive, and obviously battle-worn. The remaining bouncers are circling like vultures, not certain what to do. But Raela walks right up to him and draws a pistol as though she’s not afraid of this monstrous creature.
“Get out,” she says.
“Why don’t you make me, suit-rat?” the krogan snarls. He charges at her, no doubt aiming to slam her into the ground. Raela steps aside nimbly and fires at his back. The shot does little more than anger him, and he turns on Magdalene. There’s blood rage in his eyes. He charges at her, and she rolls out of the way.
Suddenly it’s as though a switch has been flipped. Magdalene suddenly reverts to all of the training Maya drilled into her when she was first awakened. She pulls her pistol and fires once, twice. The krogan charges again. She jumps over a table to avoid him. There are people cheering now. Some are encouraging them, some are egging on the krogan. Magdalene blocks them out. The krogan turns his attention back to Raela as she fires at him again. He charges, and she side-steps him gracefully. Then, shockingly, she jumps on to his back. It’s difficult given krogan anatomy, but she manages to get her arms around his neck and start squeezing.
Magdalene can only watch in amazement as the krogan tries to throw Raela off. But she’s on tight, not letting go. It’s like some sort of absurdist rodeo, starring an angry krogan instead of a bull. Finally the krogan drops to his knees and chokes out, “Get off, Raela!”
She lightens the pressure on his neck. “You good, Trendok?”
“Yeah,” he grumbles, “I’m good. Too much ryncol.”
Raela hops off. “Go sleep it off. If you’re here when Aria comes down she’s going to be pissed.”
One of the bouncers approaches and grabs the krogan’s arm. He jerks it away and marches out of his own accord, grumbling all the way. Raela sets her hands on her hips and watches him go.
“…you know him?” Magdalene says incredulously. Her breath is coming out in huffs.
“Trendok? Oh yeah, we go way back. I met him on my Pilgrimage and he kind of took me under his wing,” Raela says. She begins to walk back towards the bar, and Magdalene follows her. “That was pretty impressive. What company are you with?”
It takes her a minute to realize she’s talking about mercenary companies. “No one right now.”
“Perfect,” Raela says. She looks towards Magnus. “What time do you get off?”
“I switch off with Yaara in ten,” Magnus replies.
“We’ll make this quick then,” Raela says. She looks back towards Magdalene. “I have a business proposition for you. I’m looking to start my own merc band. But I’ve been looking for the appropriate business partner.”
Magdalene raises an eyebrow. “And you want me to be your partner? We met like fifteen minutes ago. You don’t know anything about me. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”
“What are the odds we’re both serial killers?” Raela jokes.
“1 in 5,425,642,” the synthetic voice chimes in suddenly.
Magdalene can practically hear Raela rolling her eyes behind her mask. “Thank you, Tick. (“You are most welcome, Creator Raela.”) Look, I’m a great judge of character. And you’ve got the right stuff. Just consider it. Here, I’ll transfer you my number.” She pulls up her omni-tool and taps something in. Moments later, Raela’Shinar pops up as a new contact. “Call me once you’ve made up your mind.
“…alright, sure,” Magdalene says hesitantly. She goes back to her drink, sipping it while Raela and Magnus go back to their flirting. Minutes later an asari woman arrives to relieve Magnus of his station. Magdalene watches Raela lead him off through the crowd, clasping his hand in hers.
For a moment she thinks of Garrus, but quickly pushes the thought of her mind. She’s left them – all of them – behind. It’s time to find her own life. And she can’t do that with Garrus.
She looks down at her omni-tool. Raela’s name sits there in her contacts, almost popping out at her. The prospect of creating her own merc group…well, it’s certainly tempting. What does she have to lose? She was trained to be a solider. Joining the Alliance isn’t an option for her- so this is the next best thing.
Magdalene finishes her drink. As she makes her way back to her tiny, dirty hotel room, she resolves to call Raela in the morning.