Shepard liked the bars in Keeliai better than the ones on the Citadel, or Omega. Less crappy pounding club music, more dark corners for quiet conversations.

Or just spots to sit and have a drink alone, thinking about your life and your role in the universe and watching people come and go.

The newcomer was young, good looking, with the cocky assurance of, well. A young, cocky soldier who thinks he's invincible. Shepard knew his type, though she hadn't seen this guy around before, and she came to this bar at least once a week lately.

"You're lucky the rationing isn't as bad right now as it was a couple weeks ago," she said lightly as he slapped down money on the bar. Gun on his hip, she noted. Well, she had her own gun, too. Not an unusual sight.