Mass Effect 1. Prologue

_This is a my first attempt at an SI-story and I have chosen, of course, the Mass Effect Universe. Because it is done so often and so bad sometimes, that even if I screw up, no one will really notice._

_No seriously, I do this because I like the Mass Effect fandom and though I also enjoy a few good SI stories from time to time, most of them are seem to be the same over and over again. So I have decided to write something a bit different, with a bunch of OC's who are more or less a parody in themselves._

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect nor do I own any trademark or copyrightet material. I just have fun in someone else's sandbox.

* * *

**Prologue**

It was a nice, rather mundane pit of sin and debauchery on Omega, in other words the Afterlife. To be precise, it was a private room in the Afterlife, rented for a game of junk food, booze and dice. There was only dimmed light and the three individuals sitting around the round table preferred it that way, it added to the athmosphere.

There were several sidearms laying around the room, a few guns, two assault rifles, a shotgun and a variation of other weaponry, together with a wild mix of armor, smaller equipment and a few books here and there. Yes, genuine books.

But despite the strange mixture of decor, most people would have most likely stared at the three occupants inside the room. It's not every day you see such a strange group of three different aliens united around a single table, munching on snacks, talking in a lighthearted manner and play Dungeons&Dragons.

"Okay, I know that I said that the Mass Effect Crew needs more aliens, but seriously?", said the stocky batarian as he took a drag from his way too big cigarre. Despite being a member of a rather despised species, this individual looked rather friendly and welcoming. Could be because he was wearing a pink t-shirt too big for him adorned with a cute fluffy unicorn on it. And there was also the fact that he was drinking from a cup with Homer-Simpson on it.

"Well, we're not yet members of Shepards crew", threw in another guy sitting in the room. Like the batarian, he too was dressed in what would be considered late 20th century clothing from earth, that means worn out metallica band shirt. It would not have been too strange on him, if he hadn't been a quarian wearing a dark red and green suit. "And anyway, you have nothing to complain about."

"I have four eyes", the brown skinned, and furred, alien said with a kind off smug smile, as if he was proud of having such difficulties.

"I am stuck in a fucking suit", the quarian countered without missing a beat.

"I have no tits," suddenly the third person in the room said in a matter of factly, kinda bored tone, you could already hear the shrug off shoulders with it. That means, if you could hear it at all.

Both males turned towards the female turian with the geekish glasses, the batarian actually raising an eyebrow. That means, two of them, the two on the left side of his face. "You always had tits before if I recall correctly."

"Yeah, but now they are gone and the only thing marking me as a girl is the lack of a crest of horns and me being as thin as a stick", the lone female answered with what could pass as sort of a sad look. Then she sobered up and leaned back in her chair, the one behind the game masters screen, changing then the topic to something more productive: "Anyway, we have 2173, ten years before ME1 and enough time to become some major kickasses."

"You mean like back in Middle-Earth?", the now-quarian asked with an amused tone. "When YOU chose to switch sides and lead an army of orcs against Helm's Deep, killing us all?"

"You gotta admit, it was fun."

"No, it wasn't", the batarian rumbled. "I got pierced by seven crossbow bolts. Seven! You have any idea how much that hurts?"

"Oh get over it you big baby", the turian teased, snickering slightly. "But no, I did not mean like back in Middle-Earth. Or back in a galaxy far, far away..."

At this the suited alien now suddenly had a great interest in the ceiling, no longer wiling to face his conversational partners. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

There were some more chuckles and snickers and light insults against each other, like old friends tend to do while storming the deep, dark dungeon of an evil warlock intend on raising hell in a peacefull kingdom.

It was always like this in a new world. They would arrive, orient themselves and then make a plan on how to proceed from there on. Sometimes they were alone, sometimes there were two of them, sometimes more. They knew neither the true names of another, nor how many of them there were, nor why it was them who lived through so many different realities and lives and dimensions. All they knew was, that if they had not each other, they would have most likely gone insane uncounted decades ago.

Finally, after long hours of laughing, talking, drinking and planning, they said their goodbyes and left the room one after another. And behind them, said room vanished from existence, like it would always do on this occasions.

It would be the last time the three of them would see each other before setting out to make names for themselves so that they could join Shepard in his or her crusade to save the galaxy. Because that was the plan.

A simple, nice and normal SI-run. No conquering the world, um galaxy, no collecting a harem, no running amok, no trying to turn the main character into a nervous wreck. Just helping the hero to get through the story as best as possible.

* * *

_This story is as much parody as it is a serious fanfiction, crack and humor as well as drama and adventure. At least, it is intendet as being so._

_As you have noticed, the SI's are no newbies to all this. I have decided to create them in such a way to make not only skip the "fish-out-of-water"-clichee, but also because it makes them unpredictable. And because I think it's funny._


	2. Chapter 1: What we are

_I want to skip the usual "Oh my god I'm in the Mass Effect Universe!" moment of normal SI's, not only because I think it is overdone, but also because I'm bad at writing such things. And I also want to avoid the usual problem how to bring Shepard to take along a relatively unknown person with nearly no abilities handy for the mission._

_You know what I mean, right?_

* * *

**Chapter 1: What we are**

2174

The grizzled, scarred man stared across the table in the dimly lit bar. As far as bar's go, this one was particular bad, even compared to some shitholes the old merc had been in. But what do you expect when you're in some backwater colony somewhere close to the damned Batarian's?

It was not unusual for him to meet his clients in such a location, a shabby bar was the third most used sort of location actually, right after strip club and a public library. Because, who would go to a public library in this time and age and who would ever expect an old warhorse like him meeting his clients, or their henchlings at least, in one? Exactly, no one.

However, as far as he was concerned, not only was this bar extremely shitty, this was also one of his most unusual contacts. Batarian's were normal, as were humans, the odd Turian now and then and once or twice an Asari. This had to be a mistake.

"Move kid", he grunted as he stood in front of the table, his voice a dangerously low growl. "You wanna find another table."

The Quarian in the dark red and green suit looked up and it was hard to say if he was scared or not, damned helmet killed any sort of facial expression. For a few moments the two observed each other, waiting for the other one to make a move and the older human was about to grab the kid and remove him by force, when the suited alien asked: "Are you Mister Zaeed Massani?"

"Yeah." Though he was slightly surprised, Zaeed didn't show it. A good poker face was always important when dealing with unknowns, especially when said unknowns know your name. "Why do you ask, kid? Want an autograph?"

"Actually, no", came the answer. "Please, step into my humble office. I'm the one who had send you an invitation."

"I gotta admit...", Zaeed rumbled as he sat down on the other side of the table and grabbed the waiting beer. "... that you don't look much like a George Martin. I should have come suspicious when I got a message from a long dead fantasy author."

Though it was against his policy to work with kids, Zaeed was not one to turn down a free beer. However the short stuff would want dead or what he would want delivered, he would turn it down, drink his beer and be on his way out to find some real work. The boy did not look much older than a teenager, all scrawny and thin, though it was hard to say in the fucking suit.

"Well, my name's actually Varah'Gel nar Sharida, but had I written that, would you have come?", the young quarian said with a light shrug and took a sip from his drink through the straw.

"No", his conversational partner admitted. "So what do you want? Who do you want dead, kid?"

"No one", Varah'Gel replied. Then, instead of explaining, he pulled out a data-pad and slid it across the table, where it was then taken by a slightly amused mercenary. For several minutes there was silence between the two, only interrupted by the occasional sip on some shitty beer or something equally shitty, as Zaeed Massani studied the content of the data-pad. Then, finally, he chuckled.

For several moments the scarred mercenary chuckled into his beer, eying up the Quarian with an amused glint in the one natural eye. "That's a very good joke kid."

"I would more see it as a business opportunity", replied the slim alien nonchalant. "If you have read the financial part of the proposal, you will know that I am willing to spend a large sum of money on this."

Again the human's eyes, the artificial and the natural one, scanned the content of the data-pad and for a second there was silence, before the scarred man said: "That is a large bundle of credits. Do you even have that much money?"

Again instead of answering Varah'Gel pulled something from his suit, this time a small cred-stick. He slid it over to Zaeed and then told him: "This is enough to cover the first six months, including ammunition, food, beverages and a lap dance from an Asari stripper once a month."

"I see you have your priorities straight Kid", Zaeed mumbled with a chuckle. He took another mighty swig from his beer and then he began to explain why this would not work. "I don't take on trainees..." A short pause as he realized just how stupid the whole idea was. You don't become a mercenary by being trained as one, you just become one or not, end of story. "I'm more of a lone wolf, you know kid?"

"Yeah, I heard that already", the Quarian replied with a shrug. However, then he added: "Yet when the icy winter winds blow, the lone wolf dies, while the pack survives."

The older mercenary eyed the scrawny kid with a mixture of distaste, amusement and admiration. He had guts, that was true. And though that alone was certainly not enough to become a good fighter, it was one of the most important attributes. "I will not be your friend. I will not be your daddy. I will not wipe your ass or dry your tears when you break down in the middle of a shootout. And if you die, I will not pay for your funeral."

"That is acceptable." Zaeed could not see it, but behind his mask Varah was grinning from what would be ear to ear if he were human. Who would have thought that this hare brained idea would actually work? Perhaps he would die, perhaps he would get maimed, but whatever would happen, at least he would have been the trainee of Zaeed Motherfucker Massani. Only one tiny thing: "Could you please stop calling me Kid?"

"No."

"Awwww..."

/

2175

In turian society, lying is not only frowned upon, it is practically unknown. You don't lie, at least not about your own deeds. You stand to what you have done, be it wrong or right, you stand firm and strong and when asked you say yes or no. It was one of the worst insults imaginable for a Turian to be called untrustworthy.

In turian culture, every one knew where you came from, thanks to the tattoos on your face. They would mark your home colony, the place where you were born and where you were raised. However, if you don't have these tattoos, a so called Bareface, then no one can see where you are from, no one can be sure what to expect of you. Of course this has lessened over the last centuries, but still, being called a Bareface was still an insult.

The turian woman out for a run was an actually Bareface, that means she had no facial markings. While in her record was written that she had been born and raised on a free asari colony and thus had no facial markings, the truth was, that she had never been born at all.

"Hey Bareface."

She ignored the barbed comment from her squadmate as she ran past him, she was too used to this by now to react to it any longer. And even if it would have faced her, she grinned to herself knowing that she had just passed him for the second time.

Like any good Turian, Chareen Tinius, the name of the female Turian, had enlisted in military service as soon as she had the opportunity. Other than normal Turians, she could have gotten around this, as she had not been "born" in Hierarchy space. However how else could she ever earn trust and recognition?

The plan had been simple: Get enlisted, one year training, one or two years of service and then join C-Sec. This way, she could make contact with Garrus and earn his trust and perhaps even got a way to join Shepard through this. She made it to the first step before the plan crumbled because of unforeseen consequences.

Now, two years after enlisting into the military, Chareen was still enlisted and had no chance of leaving the military besides fleeing, being thrown out or being weeded out. How could she have known that biotics are forced to serve not only longer, but also in specialized units?

"Hey Bareface."

This time she did not ignore it. Instead she suddenly whirled around and punched him in the face. The idiot kissed the ground with a loud, dull sound and he groaned in pain, while several others of the unit who had seen it broke down in laughter.

/

2176

Most Batarians are not allowed to leave their home system. They live in a despotic system, where everyone knows his place, with a ubiquitous, paranoid government and in which your chances of moving up are practically zero. The only exception to this rule are those who live outside of the system, outside their society, outside even the whole batarian space.

Pirates, mercenaries, criminals, slavers, looked down upon even by their own species. Yet they were the ones which the rest of the galaxy thought of when thinking of Batarians. Not a very favorable light in which the species found itself. But then again, their society was slave-owning, harsh, often inhumane and totalitarian, so perhaps the picture painted by the thugs and slavers wasn't that inaccurate.

Gorko was one such thug. Not the brightest, not the smartest, but unquestionable loyal and capable of great feats of brutality. That was one of the reasons why he had such a high standing in the small mercenary group he was part of, namely being right hand man of the leader. And that was the reason why he was holding the business end of a shotgun to the face of one of his comrades. Because his boss had said so.

"Oh come on now guys, this is really not necessary", said the four eyed alien on the other end of the weapon, looking a bit unnerved by the prospect of possible death via shotgun. At this distance, point blank, not even his personal shieldings would protect him from the damage. If he had been wearing them and was not standing there clad in only a towel around his waist. "And even if, must we do this here?"

"Yes", answered a broad shouldered, bald human as he stepped into the large room. Like Gorko, he was clad in hard suit consisting of black and gray plates and joints, complete with sidearm and larger weapon, in his case an assault rifle. "Yes, we must my good friend."

"If we're so good friends, then why is your lackey holding his compensation for a cock into my face?" For a second there was a stunned silence, then he added: "That sounded weirder than it was intended to be."

"Yeah, that was always your talent", said the human with a loopsided grin. He turned to look at the two naked women who were also inside the private bathing room, a human girl and an Asari woman, both looking with wide eyes at the exchange. "Get lost sluts. You've seen nothing, you've heard nothing."

Both did as ordered, though the black haired human girl only after giving her client, the nearly naked Batarian, a small kiss and then hurrying out of the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as they were out, the bald human turned back to his employe. "Gorko, shoot him if he tries anything stupid."

"With pleasure boss", the not too bright underling replied with a big, toothy grin. Apparently he liked the idea of shooting his fellow Batarian's head clean, or not so clean, off.

With that out of the way, the human began to explain. "Kor, it's like this: We will join the attack on the human colony of Elysium, grab a bunch of slaves, make huge money and become rich. And you will come with us or we will be forced to kill you."

Kor, actually Korrik Veg'gaz but only ever called Kor, eyed him. "We are mercenaries. We are no slavers last time I checked, and neither are we pirates. When I signed the contract, it was a group of mercenaries I signed on to. I am a mercenary. I'm not a criminal."

"Times change", his conversational partner replied. "Just imagine all the riches we could get. There is huge money in this."

"Dirty, bloody money, earned with deeds which would make every sleep filled with nightmares and pain of guilt."

"Money is money!"

"No it's not!"

Again there were a few seconds of silence, before the human sighed. "Kor, you're a good technician. You're an even better combat engineer. I don't want to lose your services to something so minor. So, why don't you just swallow your morals for once and when the deed is done you can silence your conscience with more whores, drugs and booze than you could ever had bought before."

Kor did not answer immediately. He thought about his options. He was unarmed, unprepared and slightly buzzed. He was also not clad in his armor while the two idiots were. And they were armed. If he flat out refused, he would most likely be dead the second he said so. That left him only one option: "Gimme a day to think about it."

"You have a minute."

Inwardly cursing, Kor sighed. "Not like I have much options, do I?"

"No, not really."

"Very well. But our clients better deliver."

"They will. Don't worry, they will."

While Gorko lowered his shotgun, Kor already formulated a plan on how to warn the human system alliance of this attack and how he could get out of there before the shooting started.

/

2177

"Fucking humans", one of the squadmates mumbled through his half open mouth, his words barely able to be made out over the loud techno music.

Chareen, or Face as she was called by her squadmates, ignored him and brushed aside the comment. She knew her squadmates feelings towards humans, no matter how wrong he was, yet she did not feel it necessary to be angry at him for that. He was just talk and no bite, he would be fair to humans, even if he did not like them.

Her squad was, as any turian biotic cabal was, tasked with constant training and betterment of their abilities and isolated from the rest of the military. They had their own barracks, their own canteen, their own command structure even inside the base, always kept apart from the normal soldiers.

But even they needed downtime now and then and after several tries they had finally managed to get some free days. None of the squad would go home, they all remained inside the base and spend their time together, though with enjoyable activities and not training, and went into the city in the evenings. Sometimes they ended up in a bar, sometimes in a nice restaurant and today they had entered a crowded club.

There was dancing, drinking, laughing, joking around and being playful with one another, a group of friends out to have some fun, nothing special. And Chareen was just having fun with her friends and sort of family, enjoying the familiarity with them and having a good time.

After the incident in which she broke a man's mandible square off with a brutal punch, Chareen had been reassigned into another cabal on another planet. Again she got into a direct fight with one of them, but she earned not only her squadmates' respect, but also their friendship. They called her Face as moniker, jokingly pulling her leg, and whenever someone outside the squad would call her a Bareface with malicious intent, the offender would either be hanged upside down by biotic powers or beaten up by whoever was there. Or both. Combined.

Right in that moment she occupied herself with listening to her male squadmates made idiots out of themselves by trying to get laid. Apparently, no matter what species, young men were awkward at approaching the opposite sex and talked themselves into the worst situations without even knowing it. Chareen snickered into her drink as she saw one of them getting yet another cold shoulder from a turian girl, when she noticed something strange.

At first she thought that the light was playing tricks on her, yet on second look her first guess turned out to be true. Taking another sip and then standing up she made her way across the dance floor, intend on saving Tinus from a major embarrassment... or worse.

"I assure you young man, that I have no intentions of sexual contact with you", the Asari said with a stony face and it was a shame that she should have shouted it, as Tinus, the young, eager turian soldier, did not understand one single word.

"Cool. So, you come here often?!"

Damn, did this dense idiot not take a hint unless it jumps into his face ass naked? Whatever the Asari was about to say, she did not get the chance when Chareen stepped in, grabbing Tinus at the shoulder and pulling him away roughly. "I apologize for my friend, he does not know when she should keep his mouth shut."

"Hey, find your own asari-piece of ass!"

At this Chareen nearly blanched. Knowing when it is better to retreat she hastily fled back into the crowd, Tinus arm held tightly in her clawed hand. When she was sure that they were out of reach she released him, yelling at him immediately: "Do you have any idea what you just did?!"

"I know what you did! I was about to get some sweet asari-loving!"

"No you were about to get your brain fried!"

"Yeah, by some hot asari-momma via hot mind sex!"

"No, by an Asari Justiciar who you offended!"

"I what?!"

Chareen rolled with her eyes and groaned. "That woman is an Asari Justiciar, a champion of justice of her people. Insulting one of them or hindering in what they are doing is a sure way of getting your brain fried!"

Tinus stared at her. Then he tried to get a look at said Asari, yet could not through the thick crowd. And after that he asked: "How do you know?!"

"I grew up on an asari colony you shithead!"

"Oh yeah, right", the male Turian mumbled under his breath. "So... thanks. I guess. Still, she's hot."

Again rolled eyes from Chareen, though she had to admit that yes, Samara was one major hottie. If you are into the MILF type that is. And male or an at least bisexual female. Or a normal female, as Asari are mono gendered. Well, whatever you were, Samara was a very attractive woman.

A very attractive woman who was just now unleashing her biotic powers to subdue an asari criminal who had fled to this world. Of course said criminal answered in turn. And being the good turian soldiers they were, Chareen and her squadmates reacted.

/

2178

The surface of Torfan was burning. Not because of the large scale attack of alliance troops and fleets, but because there was lot's of volcanic activity on the moon and it was quite normal for large lava fields to appear over night and earthquakes giving way for new volcanoes.

Still, there was an attack going on, a major one. A fucking huge planet size attack of the Human System Alliance, consisting of a huge-ass space battle followed by a full invasion force.

For long years Torfan had served as some sort of safe haven for pirates, smugglers, criminals and most importantly, slavers. Preying on the relatively weakly defended human colonies of the Skyllian Verge, large bands of batarian slave hunters and traders have become rich. Their wares were living, their trade brutal and hard and their money bloody.

Was it any wonder that the Human System Alliance would strike back? No, not really, only the most dense or naive of criminals would have thought to get away with this for all eternity. The only real surprise was, with which force the attack had come.

When the heavy doors into Bunker 14 were opened, the human soldiers were welcomed by a ferocious counter-attack and barrages of assault rifle salves. Still they pushed in, forcing their way in, killing the batarian slaver and pirate band who had rented said bunker and were trying to protect their riches. There was a bloody, brutal fight for every inch of ground, every room, Batarians against humans, criminals against soldiers.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but were only minutes, the last of the gang was dead, killed by a shot fired into the back of his head as he tried to flee down the corridor. Not very honorable, but then again, this was, sort of, war.

"Spread out. Cover as much ground as possible. Secure area", the Lieutenant of the human task force team commanded and his team did as ordered. There was no com chatter, no barbed comments, no acts of violence against the dead Batarians, only discipline and obedience.

Inside the bunker they found a series of sleeping quarters offering only simple pleasantries as well as a pleasure slave for every room. Said slaves were barely more than animals, asari and turian and human women not even fully conscious, some of them half dead from malnourishment or violent mating. There was also a kitchen, some rooms used for leisure, a armory and bath rooms, everything one could need.

Three men forced open a single heavy steel door after the technician of said group had failed to hack the, damaged, terminal. They were greeted by the smell of urine, faecal, sweat and blood, too many beings on too little room with nearly no hygiene. One of them turned around and began to be sick over the ground, no one commented on that.

"This is just... wrong...", the Lieutenant mumbled under his breath as he watched the slaves being led out of the cages into the care of para-medics. Mostly humans but also a pair of Salarians were carefully guided out of their prison, looking at their surroundings with hollow, empty eyes, as if they were not quite there. Most of them were badly underfed and some had to be carried. And all of them were wearing slave-collars, cruel control devices which could break ones will alone. "This is just... sick."

"Lieutenant, you better come and take a look at this", one of the soldiers said and with a heavy sigh the Lieutenant, a broad shouldered man of eastern European descent, stepped into one of the single cages were the slaves had been held in.

"Well, that's... surprising", he muttered. In front of him lay a pitiable creature like he had ever seen before. Badly malnourished, the body covered in festering cuts, one of the arms bend in a seemingly impossible angle, a single male Batarian was laying on the ground, breathing heavy, eyes closed.

"One of their own?", the soldiers asked. "We should just kill him and be done with it. Doesn't look like he will make it anyway."

For a few moments the commanding officer studied the body and waged his options. Thought it was tempting to simply shoot the Batarian, and he would not loose much sleep over it, he saw no real reason to do so. And anyway... "No. He is wearing a slave collar", he explained. Then he added: "Soldier, bring this man to the medics. He is as much of a victim as every other of those poor bastards."

/

2179

Two people were sitting inside an old shuttle, one so old that every one stepping into it feared it would go up in flames any minute. However, considering the sheer amount of explosives, grenades and heavy weaponry surrounding the two armored men, that was most likely the last of their worries.

"That reminds me of the time when I fought off an eclipse attack team", the human grunted through gritted teeth, his hands holding his old assault rifle so hard his knuckles went white. "Back then I too had a psychopath at my side."

"I'm not a psychopath", the heavily armored Quarian replied with a happy tone. Despite him sitting between a box filled with grenades, several rockets, a canister filled with liquid explosive gel and a folder for a trading card game, he seemed oddly relaxed. "I'm a highly functional sociopath."

"Whatever you say kid, whatever you say."

/

2180

Though this was not what she had planned in the beginning, not at all, Chareen enjoyed the quiet. A simple, good life in the military, a steady career, a bunch of friends, a post on a tropical world with long beaches and extremely good weather. No, this was not what Chareen had planned at all, but she took it.

Only two more years, then her time in the military was up and she could decide what to do then, how to get into good standing with Shepard and or get onto the Normandy. After all, that was the game plan, wasn't it? But until then...

She took another sip from her cocktail and got back to meditating. Sitting on the beach while the gentle ocean breeze tickled her face and the waves lulled her into trance, she thought that life could be worse.

/

2181

His plan had been to get inside the living quarters of his prey, say something witty and then shoot him. Or scout out the room and plant a detonation charge. Or fry him alive inside the bathtub. He had every intention of doing this when he stood in front of the door and was about to hack the terminal, when the door was opened from the inside and a small bundle of energy ran into him, fell back and landed on the small, diaper clad behind.

"Jerko, come back here!"

And immediately after that a batarian woman clad in a simple dress followed, startled by the man in front of her. The toddler screamed, the woman immediately swooped him up and turned to Kor, her four eyes wide in fear. "My husband is not here."

"I'm..." Kor opened his mouth to say something, to reply something, then he closed his mouth again after no sound came out. "I'm sorry to disturb you."

The woman eyed him carefully. Kor did not really look like a nice person, not even compared to the other Batarians on Omega. He was scarred across his entire head, was wearing a well-worn armor with scratches and dents, was well armed and was smoking a fat cigar. The cigar by the way he now hid hurriedly in one of his many pockets, it was not good to smoke in the presence of small children.

"Like I said, Gorko is not home", the woman said, trying to hide her fear behind a brave face. "He's at work. Working for Aria."

Was this woman trying to scare him? Yep, she was. Not that she was very good at it, but she tried it. So, why would she do that? Was Gorko in some kind of trouble anyway? Or had he heard about what his former comrades happened and was now afraid Kor would come for him? He was right with that, but it would be quite the feat. "Look, I'm just here to talk with your husband. I have no intentions to harm him or you or your, by the way drooling, boy."

She did not seem to believe him. "That's what the last debt collector said too. Now get lost, before I call security."

Oh, that would explain some things. So, Gorko was indepted? No wonder, the idiot had quite the inability to win at the gambling table but a great talent for using money he did not have. For another second Kor eyed the scared mother with her child on her arm, looking past her and seeing a lovingly decorated but simple home. Finally he said: "I'm not a debt collector. But when he get's home, please tell Gorko that Kor was here and that we're even."

/

2182

It ended where it began, inside a dirty bar with piss-poor beer, rowdy customers and shitty service. Zaeed took another sip from his, like said before, piss-poor beer, before saying: "This is it Kid. One last job, then we're done. Gotta admit, I wouldn't have thought you live past the first two months."

"And I wouldn't have thought you would survive any job without getting a heart attack", Varah replied, most likely smirking behind his helmet.

"I'm still young enough to lay you over my knee, kid."

"Sure you are gramps, sure you are."

The lighthearted banter was interrupted when a large Krogan stepped into the bar, followed by a bunch of Vorcha. The Krogan was dressed in blood red armor and towered over every other occupant inside the room, a fact he seemed to enjoy. And shielded from the rest of the people by the blood pack unit, a single asari woman was strolling into the bar, sat down at the counter and ordered a drink.

"Huh, now this makes things complicated", Zaeed grumbled under his breath as he saw this. This last job before he would return to his hunt on Vido was that blue skinned bitch surrounded by Vorcha. That means the plans she had stolen from her former employee.

"I would call it... interesting", Varah replied at that and pulled out a large pistol.

"Yeah, you would."

/

2182

The interview had been simple so far. She was asked about her experiences, about her powers, about her live, her qualifications and she was sure that somewhere inside all these questions a personality test was hidden. And finally the last question, the question which was said so many others failed.

"Why do you want to join C-Sec?"

Seriously, that was the dreaded question so many others feared? Seriously? Chareen would have laughed at that, would it not have broken her mask of seriousness. And she was quite good at wearing a mask, long hours of concentration and meditation for nearly ten years made it quite easy to master your own emotions and expressions.

The three interviewers sitting behind the large desk eyed her thoroughly, the Asari practically throwing daggers at her with her eyes alone. Was she some kind of hard-ass or did she just not like Chareen personally? Both viable options.

"It feels like the logical next step", the single female Turian in the room finally said after waiting for a few seconds, as if she had to think about it.

"Explain", the Turian on the right said. "You are a Biotic, if your file is correct a powerful at that. Your skills are best used in the military."

"My powers perhaps, yes", Chareen answered unfazed. She was by now used to the fact that most Turians not only distrusted Biotics of their own species, they also thought of them as powerful weapons best handled by military personal. "Yet my personality profile states that I am also at my best when not monitored every step and able to make my own decisions."

"Yes, you're a trouble-maker", the other Turian threw in his two cents, his eyes not leaving the opened personal file of Chareen opened before him. "You were reassigned to different cabals no less than four times, once after you were part of a violent and biotic bar brawl."

"Yes."

For a second all three C-Sec officers just stared at her in confusion, before the Asari asked: "You are not willing to explain yourself?"

"Would you listen?"

"And that is exactly the reason why you are not suited for C-Sec", the Turian on the left then said sharply. "You have an attitude-problem. You talk back, you are reckless, you are a wise-ass. C-Sec does not have room for trouble-makers."

And in exactly that moment the door to the interview room was opened and another Turian stepped in, dressed in black and red armor, his face covered with white markings. "But we have more than enough room for such a person." And then towards Chareen he introduced himself: "I am Nihlus Kryik, council Spectre. Have you ever thought about joining this specialized force?"

Very uncommon for her, Chareen was at loss for words.

/

2182

"What is your reason for visiting Eden Prime?", asked the clerk at the counter with his face holding a very unfriendly expression.

Kor grinned at him as broad as he could, just to anger him a bit. "I have bought a small piece of land here. I am a new, proud homeowner on this wonderful human colony."

The clerk's expression turned from unnerved to horrified.

* * *

_A trigger happy, quarian sociopath. A sassy, biotic Turian. A morally upstanding Batarian. What could ever go wrong, right?_


	3. Chapter 2: A soldier

_I think I will introduce the three OC's one after another to Shepard. After all, she has enough on her list as it is, no need to make even more trouble for her, right?_

* * *

**Chapter 2: A soldier**

There were lot's of lingering bad feelings between Turian's and humans after the first contact war. Many Turian's felt that humans wanted too much too fast, that they were unprepared and cocky, while many humans did not think too highly of Turian's thanks to the disastrous first contact between them and thought of them as arrogant and rude. That does not mean that there was a war about to break out, because the relationship between the two societies wasn't that bad.

It was just a fact that many humans did not like Turian's and vica versa, nothing more. A hate-crime here and there, a few slurred insults in a bar, nothing too serious in the grand scale.

Jeff "Joker" Morreau was not exactly what you would call a xenophobic asshole or a rascist. He thought of himself as someone with a healthy mistrust of strange things like overly friendly, attractive women, good luck out of nowhere, aliens who gave him the stinky eye, Turians in general. The last thing by the way not because he disliked Turians as a species, but because he disliked their way of thinking, it being way too strict and regulated to be healthy.

So when Jeff stepped into the cockpit of the brand new Normandy, the ship he would make dance under his fingers, and he saw a turian sitting in the co-pilot seat, he felt a bit put off, to put it lightly. He knew that the ship had been a joined project by the Human System Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy, but as far as he knew it was an alliance ship and thus had no alien crew.

And the day had started so nice.

So why was that turian not only gracing the cockpit with his presence, but also had his feet kicked up on the instruments and was, apparently, listening to music via headphones. That was no way to treat his new baby, no way at all.

Mustering all the courage he could find, and he had a lot of it, he hobbled up to the alien and tapped him on the shoulder. The effect was as immediate as it was explosive. With a speed that belied the alien's size it was on it's feet, headphones ripped off, turned around and babbled: "There was nothing to do but wait and I know I shouldn't do that but it was just so tempting and I'm sorry and, hey wait, you're not my boss!"

"Ummm... no, I'm not", Jeff answered after a few seconds of trying to understand what had actually been said. And after he realized, that the HE was actually a woman, indicated by the somewhat softer features, the lack of a crest and the different cut in armor, making her seem somewhat more slender. "Still, you can't do that? That's a sacrilege."

The woman in turn now took a moment to take him in, eying him with a scrutinizing look, then something akin to recognition dawned on her face. "You're the pilot, Flight Lieutenant Morreau", she said as if that was somewhat very clever. "I'm sorry I defiled your beauty like that, but there is no other place where I could kick back and relax without being bothered all the time."

She did not really sound sorry, but he took it. After all, he prided himself on the fact that he was the forgiving type. "It's okay, just don't ever do that to my baby again. Like, ever."

"Oh come on, it's not like I had sex on it. And anyway, it wasn't even your seat."

"Great now I have that image stuck in my head."

The woman chuckled at that, a quite strange sound to Joker's ears. He had never before heard one of these aliens laugh and it did not sound like he had imagined it at all. There was no booming, evil laughter like one would see in vids, no loud grunting like he had thought would that sound, but more of a melodic whistling, reminding him of a songbird.

"Could you please stop that?", he then asked. "You make me feel really stupid."

"I'm sure you can do that all on your own, can't you?", she teased with what could have been a smirk on her features. At least he thought that it was a smirk, he couldn't be too sure with her features and whole face just being so different from what he was used to. Couldn't this have been an Asari? Then he would at least been able to clearly identify the expressions.

"Yes, I can, I assure you. I'm all grown up, I can even feed me all by myself and clean up behind me", he replied half joking and half serious. "Now, who are you and why are you on this ship?"

For a second she seemed to think really hard about this, fighting with herself seemingly, before letting her shoulders drop in a very human fashion. But then she forced herself to stand upright and answer the question. "My name is Chareen Tinius and I'm the assistant of Nihlus Kryik, council SpecTre."

"Actually she is my trainee", a second voice suddenly said from behind Joker and if he could, he would have jumped from surprise. Calming his heartbeat he turned around and found himself face to face with a very serious looking, tall Turian with white facial markings and dressed in a black and red armor. Other than this Chareen, he looked every bit as stiff and hard as Joker had always imagined Turian's to look. "Is she causing you trouble?"

"Hey, why is it always me who you think is causing trouble?"

The protest from the woman went ignored and Joker just now understood, that the question had been aimed at him. "Um... no, no trouble here. We're just getting acquainted, nothing more."

For a moment the dark skinned Turian studied him, then he nodded. "Good. I will trouble you no longer Flight Lieutenant."

And with that he turned around and left the cockpit with seemingly the same silent elegance with which he had come in, unnoticed by Joker. The human watched him go and when he was certain that he was out of earshot, he turned back to Chareen. "Is that your boss? Damn, my condolences."

"Nah, he's fine", she replied with, again rather human like, a shrug of her shoulders. "A bit too stiff, a bit too serious, but still, a good guy. And if you think I am to be pitied for having him as superior, you have clearly not yet met your captain."

"Yeah, I have not", he answered, also shrugging. "He can't be that bad, can he?"

"Nope, I just wanted to pull your leg", she replied with something that could have been a grin. "Anyway, I'll leave you to make yourself acquainted with the ship. I'll see you around Flight Lieutenant."

Joker had no idea why **he** said that, but perhaps something in the way she had called him by his rank made him feel uneasy. She was, apparently, not someone who was big on protocol, so **if** just felt right to say to her: "Please, don't call me that, every time I hear it I think I'm about to get yelled at. Call me Joker."

"Sure. Call me Face."

/

David Anderson was a good commanding officer, at least he thought of himself as such. He had made it a practice of his to read every of his subordinates files, to memorize them, even if they just remained on the crew for a short time. And though his two guests weren't even part of the crew, he had read their files as well. That means, as much as he could.

Nihlus' file was not only short, it was practically not existing. There were two things written in it: His first name and his family name. Nothing more. Well, what did he expect, the man was a SpecTre, they were practically the secrets of secrets. Even his trainee, Chareen Tinius, had only a very short file, yet at least he had a list of where she had been posted during her stint in the military and what her abilities were.

And also a few comments about her personality which someone seemed to have missed when blacking the file. Attitude problem. Troublemaker. Disobedient. Those were just a few words written about her, but he tried not to think too much about it. She was not his trainee after all, he wasn't even her superior, neither in rank nor in station. Technically she was a civilian on board of his ship.

"May I ask you a question?", he asked the male Turian sitting on the other side of the small office table. He and Nihlus were sitting inside his small ready room, talking about the mission and, of course, Commander Shepard. Still, there was something he wanted to know.

"Of course Captain", the SpecTre replied and took a sip from his coffee. It was dextro-coffee and like always he was drinking it from a bright red cup. When he had come on board he had informed the crew that if they wanted to avoid poisoning thanks to drinking dextro-amino based beverages, they should refrain from drinking from the bright red cups. So far everything had gone smoothly.

"You already have a trainee. Why have you volunteered to evaluate Commander Shepard as well?"

"Because she is a damn good candidate and deserves a shot", he replied without missing a beat. "Your species is ready, you have great potential. One of yours making SpecTre is the next logical step, a big one."

"But why you?", Anderson asked him while leaning back. "There are other SpecTres, most of them not having a candidate to evaluate already."

"Yes, that is true, but I wanted to do this", Nihlus answered. Then he added: "You don't need to concern yourself with the details, not that I am allowed to tell you more anyway. Just be assured that I will judge your candidate fairly."

That was enough for Anderson, he was sure he would not get more out of the man anyway.

/

Since joining Nihlus Kryik as possible SpecTre candidate, Chareen had trouble sleeping. Some nights sleep eluded her at all, others she would wake up and drift back to sleep countless times and on other occasions she would wake up in the middle of the night and stare at the ceiling with her mind racing. In such nights she usually got up and went for a run to clear her head.

As this was not possible on board the Normandy, when she woke up in the middle of the night, she simply got up and went to the kitchen to get herself something to bite. To her pleasant surprise the Normandy was actually bigger than shown in the game, including proper sleeping quarters, bathrooms as well as a small but proper caboose. She would not have thought she would meet someone during two in the morning, except perhaps the night shift, yet as she opened to door to the kitchen she found herself facing a somewhat startled red head.

For a moment the two looked at each other in confusion, before Chareen decided that she really wanted a bite and made her way up to the fridge. Grabbing her chocolate, clearly labeled as dextro-amino based with big red letters, she then sat down on a kitchen stool, the only one remaining. On the other one was Jessica Shepard sitting, eying her carefully.

"Evening. I would offer you some, but then you would puke out your innards", Chareen said with a tired smile and took the moment to get a good look at the future savior of the galaxy. Like most of these hero types, even Shepard did not look like much when dressed in pajamas. Still, she looked nearly exactly like the default Shepard, red hair, green eyes, heart shaped face. Not too much in the bust department and a athletic figure. Clearly no super model but no face to hide from either.

"Thanks no", the woman replied with a tired smile herself, nodding towards her steaming cup of cacao. "Can't sleep either?"

"Nope. The bed smells like, sorry, human", Chareen answered. "I'm Chareen Tinius, but everyone calls me Face. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise", Shepard said and took the offered hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "I'm Commander Jessica Shepard. Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did. But shoot."

"Why are you called Face?"

At this Chareen had to chuckle. Of all the questions and she asks this. But then again, so far this wasn't the big-shot hero either, so far this woman was just a very brave, very good soldier. A soldier of whom she did neither know the skills, nor the deeds. Perhaps she should have taken more time beforehand to get her hands on some more information. "Because of my facial markings."

"But you don't have any at all." Shepard looked at her in confusion.

"Exactly." Chareen shrugged. "I'm a Bareface, which is also a slur for someone who is unreliable or untrustworthy. So in basic training they all called me Bareface to rile me up. In my next unit they did that as a joke and finally they shortened it to simply Face. I kept it since then."

"You're still in the military?"

"Nope, I took my leave last year. Tried to join C-Sec but they did not want me. So here I am, playing secretary and assistant for a big-shot SpecTre." Again she chuckled and took a bite from the chocolate. "May I ask you a question too?"

"Sure, shoot."

"Is it true that humans with red hair have no soul?"

Shepard's mouth fell open and she tried to answer but no sound came out and so she closed it again. Then she tried again and managed to say: "Wh... Where have you heard such stupid bull?"

"Extra-net."

"Sure, where else?", the human thought out loud and rolled with her eyes. "No, that is total bull. We humans with red hair are just as normal as any other human."

"So you're not especially, and I quote, _wild in the sack_?"

"That you have to ask my ex-boyfriends", Shepard replied with a sigh. "But no. Hair color, skin color, all that have nothing to do with a persons personality. A few hundred years back my people apparently used every excuse of someone being different to shun them. And red hair is rather rare."

"Ah, I see."

For a few minutes the two sat there in silence, one drinking her cacao, the other nibbling on her chocolate. For the moment they weren't soldiers or special forces, for the moment they were just two girls who could not sleep and did something to calm their nerves. "How is working for a SpecTre? It's not like in all that spyvids, is it?"

"I wish it was", the Turian replied. "No, in truth it's a lot more boring. Lot's of investigating, waiting, more investigating, more waiting, an interrogation here and there, a bit shooting thugs and hanging criminals upside down, but not much. But that is mostly because my boss is not much off a trouble-shooter. Other SpecTres are a lot more direct."

Shepard smiled at that. "I admit, I always thought SpecTres work alone."

"Most of them do, they don't trust outsiders with critical information", Chareen replied. "But it's not forbidden to have a team, just very uncommon. And to be honest, it wasn't his intention of hiring me as assistant when he approach me."

"So why are you his assistant then?"

"Originally he approached me to evaluate me as SpecTre-candidate. Only I didn't make the cut."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear."

"Don't, it's okay." In a very human gesture, Chareen shrugged with her shoulders. "It's not even officially decided yet. The council will have to decide on my case, but if they'd make me a SpecTre, then they are either completely idiotic or desperate... But then again, they're politicians, so it could be."

"Not a great fan of the council, huh?"

"Not a great fan of politics in general."

"Yeah, I can get that", Shepard said. "Hey, it was nice talking to you, but I'll try to hit the sack now. I'm sure we see each other around, the ship isn't that big."

"Okay, good night."

"Night." And with that Shepard stood up and left the kitchen, the door automatically closing behind her, leaving behind a somewhat amused Chareen.

That wasn't the first hero she had ever met, not by a long shot, and certainly not the first hero she had seen in her sleeping garments. Still, it was a nice chance to meet the hero of the story in such a relaxed surrounding, better than at gun-point like it was normally the case. Chuckling to herself she devoured the remaining chocolate and decided to try to get some sleep on her own.

/

No new ship is thrown from the dock directly into the fray, no matter how advanced it was. Especially not when it was such an experimental vessel as the Normandy. Every ship had hiccups, so it was only natural to run them through a series of test runs. So of course the Normandy was put through a series of stress tests, followed by minor adjustments to work out the problems and then another stress test, so long until it worked perfectly.

And though it was strange to do this with not just a skeleton crew but actually a complete full department, such an arrangement gave the crew some more time to get familiar with one another before being thrown into the action.

It was three days after first stepping on board of his new home, when Joker had again a run in with Face. Three days filled with one boring flight after another, the same ship movements one after another. Flying through a spectacular series of stunts is fun when you do it. Doing it for twenty times one after another, not so fun.

So he was thankful for any kind of distraction and wasn't even put out when he noticed someone taking place in the co-pilot seat and it not being Alenko like usual, but the resident female Turian. "Face, what brings my favorite Turian to my humble abode?"

"The view", she answered lightheartedly. "And the opportunity to catch up on some gossip. I mean, you weren't in the mess, so I thought I'd visit our resident hermit in his hideout. I brought snacks."

"Face, you're a woman after my heart", Joker said with a overly affectionate voice as he took the offering of tortilla chips. "If I weren't practically bound to this seat, I would get on my knees and thank you."

"Oh, I can think of a few better situations where you could and even should kneel before me", she answered playfully.

"Argh, stop giving me these images! Evil woman, begone witch, begone!"

Chareen broke down in laughter and again kicked up her feet to get into an overly comfortable position. "Ah, it's not like you don't want it too. Admit it, you dream every night of me."

"As if", he snorted. "Only because you want some of Jeff inside of you, doesn't mean I want to work my magic on you. I'm a one woman man."

"Aaaawww... And there is no room for a second beauty in your live? One with less chrome and steel?", she asked him with mock hurt in her voice. She was of course aware of the fact that he was talking about the Normandy, the one true love of this hot-shot pilot.

"No, no more room", Jeff replied. "She dances like none other, she glides and flies like a goddess and my fingers can do wonders on her."

"Woooooooooooo, now you made me all tingly", she teased him with a smirk on her face. "Come on, talk dirty to me, you naughty boy."

"Better not, or you will fire off right where you are. And I will not explain to the Alenko why there are spots on his chair."

"What, spots on my chair?", asked said man as he came into the cockpit. Apparently he had only heard the last few words and had been spared from some bad images in his head. Lucky him. "Miss Tinius, would you please leave my station?"

"Sure thing", Chareen answered and slid off the co-pilots seat, making it free for the man who was actually supposed to sit there. She and him had not talked with another so far and most likely the only thing he knew of her was that she was a biotic, nothing more. "So, do we have any special plans for today? Are we going pirate hunting or perhaps racing?"

"No, nothing special", Kaidan told her as he took place in his seat, though only after checking for spots. Happy not to see any he sat down and began working on the display in front of him. "The Captain has said that we will set course towards Eden Prime by tomorrow, when all the test runs are finished. But today... maneuver 105 one more time."

"Awww, come on now", whined Joker. "We've done that at least a thousand times. If the tech guys have not found the problem by now they never will."

"Joker."

"Yes?"

"Shut up and do your job."

"Righto, great leader, as you command mon capitan."

While Kaidan just groaned and rolled with the eyes, Chareen found it hilarious and yelled: "Hey boss, can we keep the pilot?! I will feed him and train him and bath him!"

"Dammit woman, stop giving me those images!"

/

"What do you know about Eden Prime?", Nihlus asked Shepard after turning away from the large screen inside the communications room. Besides these two also Captain Anderson and the SpecTre's trainee were inside the darkened room, though both remained silent for the moment and the female Turian even seemed to be totally disinterested in the entire conversation, being engrossed in something on her omni-tool.

"Not much", Shepard replied in a business like manner. "One of humanities oldest colonies, said to be very pleasant. You should ask Private Jenkins, as far as I know he grew up there."

Now Nihlus turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "It is said to be a paradise. It is also a symbol for humanity. You have proven that you can reach out and colonize space. However, can you also hold it and defend what is yours?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Though that question could have been understood as aggressive, Shepard managed to ask it in a neutral, rather bland way. She only tensed a bit in the shoulders and her stance got a bit firmer.

"I think it is about time we told the Commander what this mission is really about", Captain Anderson now threw in his two cents.

Immediately the red haired commander muttered: "I knew this wasn't just a simple shakedown run."

"What gave it away?", Nihlus asked with what would have been a smirk if he had been a human on his features.

"You mean between the fact that we have a full marine department on board and also a fully fledged council SpecTre?", she replied in a dry tone. "A gut feeling if you like."

"I like her", Chareen muttered to her boss.

"I knew you would", he thought out loud at that, before turning his attention back towards Shepard. "We're making a covert-pick up on Eden Prime. A research team on Eden Prime unearthed some kind of beacon during an excavation. It was prothean. I don't think I must explain to you what that could mean for the galaxy at large, do I?"

"No", she answered. "However, Eden Prime is a human colony last time I checked. So why is a SpecTre interested in such a relict?"

Instead of answering the turian male turned his head towards Chareen, giving her a pointed look, indicating that she should answer the question. What she promptly did: "According to council law, all prothean artifacts are to be given over to the Council for proper examination. Which the System Alliance will not like, I'm sure, and neither will the population should this become public knowledge. Because, come on, why should everyone just roll over an-"

"Thank you, Chareen, that's enough", Nihlus groaned with a somewhat pained expression on his face. It was obvious from this reaction, that this was not the first time he had to intervene before she said something too stupid or overstepped some line.

"You're welcome."

Shepard bit back a smirk at that exchange, as did Anderson, though the older human managed it better. Was this woman always this cheeky? Not a very common trait amongst Turians, who were more known for their rigid discipline and upstanding nature than their loose mouth'. That thought was shoved to the side by what Nihlus said next: "However, that is only part of my reason being here. The other, more important one, is you Commander."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

Again Anderson stepped in to explain in detail what the alien meant. "Humanity has pushed hard for a more active role in the galactic community. Nihlus is not only here to make sure the beacon is safely delivered, but also to observe your performance in this and following missions to evaluate your potential as candidate for SpecTre."

Shepard looked as if she was just hit with a baseball bat into the gut. "SpecTre? Me?!"

"I know that this is much to take in", the Captain replied. "Humanity depends on you. You're the best we have to offer and if one can make it, it's you."

"You're right, that is much to take in", she gave back. "I must admit, I have thought of many different possibilities what this mission is truly about, but this wasn't among it. May I ask why me?"

"You're name was among those put forward by the human embassy", Nihlus answered her. "On top of the list too. I too think that humanity is ready for such a responsibility and I volunteered to take a look at your embassies request. Your file impressed me and I decided to give you a chance."

"I see." For a few seconds there was silence as the red head was apparently thinking about what to say next, before she then asked: "May I speak freely?"

"Of course."

"Why not Gunderson? He survived Akuze."

"Gunderson is a good soldier, a damn good one, that is true", Anderson replied. "But he does not have the drive you possess, he lacks your ability to think on your own and not just blindly follow orders."

"I understand", she said, then she added: "What about Torfan? I did some really bad things back then, things people would most likely not be reminded of."

"You did what you had to do to get the job done", Nihlus said to her. "That is, in escence, what we SpecTres do. Sometimes we do the unhonorable things to do good. However, I need to see your skills for myself, Commander. Eden Prime will be the first of several missions together."

"You'll be in charge of the ground team", Captain Anderson explained to her. "Secure the beacon and get it onto the ship ASAP. Nihlus will accompany you to observe the mission."

Every other conversation was put aside as Joker's voice came over internal communication's network. _"Captain, we've got a problem!"_

Perhaps out of an inborn reflex, every face turned upwards, as if they could see Joker when doing this. However, everyone noticed that the usual humor in the voice of the flippant pilot was missing, alerting everyone. Anderson asked: "What's wrong Joker?"

"_Emergency transmission from Eden Prime. You better see this!"_

"Bring it up on the screen."

The peaceful scenery of Eden Prime vanished from sight and was replaced by a much more horrible sight. It was still Eden Prime, several trees and rocks in the background, while several Alliance marines were more or less cut down by enemy fire. It was not visible who was attacking them, only that the humans were under heavy fire and were fighting for their bare lives.

/

This was not how Chareen had imagined the start of Mass Effect to work. Originally she had not planned to be even be there, she would have preferred to be on the Citadel and join Shepard there. Changes to the story which were made too early could screw up the entire story-line, like Shepard dying or the beacon being destroyed without anyone getting the visions from it or what else.

Damn, that had been a really confusing time back in the world of Kung-Fu-Panda, when Po had died before being found by his adoptive father thanks to some SI screwing up. Fun, but confusing. But as Chareen and the others had agreed to try to turn this story, run, loop, whatever-you-like-to-call-it, into a quite normal one which should follow the main story-line, she tried to intervene as little as possible.

But hell, how could she have known that she would end up as trainee, assistant, coffee-bringer of exactly the SpecTre who was meant to mentor Shepard? At least she had performed so badly that no one would ever think of making her a SpecTre over Shepard. Would they? God, hopefully not, cause that would be really messed up.

That in mind, Chareen did not feel comfortable as she put on her medium armor. Other than most biotics, who could only comfortably move in the lightest of armor, she had learned to move and fight in heavier encumbrance, thanks to her long active service in the turian military forces. Like she had learned she checked her sidearm before clipping it to her upper thigh, then checked her assault rifle and fastened it to the back of her hip.

The plan was simple: Stick to the canon. No matter what happens, stick to the canon. Jenkins has to die. Nihlus has to die. The beacon has to explode with Shepard getting the visions. Stick to the canon.

Pity, she actually liked her boss.

She actually felt a bit bad when Jenkins eyed Shepard and her boss with his big, naive eyes, all hopes and dreams and innocence. Damn, he may be a tool, but did he deserve to die? No, but then again, most people don't.

"Your team's the muscle in this operation, Commander", Captain Anderson told the Commander as she was putting on her helmet. He, Commander Shepard, Kaidan and Jenkins were standing in a loose semi-circle inside the cargo hold, the Captain giving last orders. Chareen stood a few feet away, waiting for the arrival of her boss and orders for her, though she had a feeling what she was about to do. Meanwhile Anderson kept on giving the orders. "Go in heavy and head straight for the dig site."

"What about survivors, Captain?", Shepard asked immediately.

"Helping survivors is a secondary objective", the older man answered. "The beacon's your top priority."

It was that moment that Chareen saw Nihlus approach the group, or to be more precise the opening hold, as Joker informed the team of the ship approaching the first drop point. That means, where Nihlus would jump out.

"Nihlus? You're coming with us?", Jenkins asked with his voice barely containing the excitement.

"I move faster on my own", her boss replied without even looking at the hopeful human. "Chareen will accompany you. She is an accomplished soldier and trained biotic."

One last time he checked his shotgun, then he jogged to the exit. In that moment Chareen realized, that when everyone would go as planned, this would be the last time she would see him alive. The guy who had been not only her employer but also a mentor and sort of a friend to her was about to meet his end at the hands of a traitorous bastard he thought was his friend.

Suddenly her mouth felt very dry. She could warn him. She could go with him against his orders. She could do anything, hell, she should do something. So she said: "Good luck boss."

"You too Face."

And with that he was gone and Chareen was fully aware, that he would die. For about a year he had been her closest companion and now he was about to die. He wasn't the first of her precious people who would die, he wouldn't be the last. She was an SI. Something like that happened all the time.

After about a hundred deaths you get used to it.

* * *

_And that's the first chapter centering around one single SI. I'll try not to tell everything from their perspective, I hope I can manage that._

_Anyway, I thought about changing the story in some significant ways, like Nihlus surviving the confrontation with Saren or some other detail which will then lead to the well known butterfly effect. If you have thoughts on the matter, write me a comment, I'm always open to suggestions._


	4. Chapter 3: A philosopher

_Yay, I've got reviews, whoohoooo!_

_ DaLintyMan: I have so far not planned on going further into the other adventures of my SI's, but perhaps in the far future..._

_Anyway, onwards to the chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 3: A Philosopher**

Eden Prime did look exactly like the vids from the travel business had promised it to be. Lush forests, beautiful long beaches, a friendly wild life and of course wonderful weather the whole year. Except of course for the fact that someone had attacked the colony, gunfire was to be heard in the distance and an unpleasant feeling of someone watching you all the time was creeping up at you.

Shepard did not like it. Not one fucking bit. Back on Mindoir, when the pirates had attacked, she had seen despair and broken homes and fear, but she had known what to expect. Torfan had been a slaughter, a hellish vision directly from the mind of a deranged lunatic, all pain and horror, yet she had known what to expect.

Here, on what should have been a safe colony, she had no idea who, or what, she was about to encounter. Slavers going for a raid? Hired mercenaries after the beacon? She had no idea and that drove her crazy.

Still, she kept up a brave face and did what she was trained to do: Give orders. "Jenkins take left flank. Chareen on my right. Kaidan cover us. Keep your guard up."

At least her squad behaved like she wanted it, doing exactly what she had ordered but also thinking by themselves. That was one of the reasons why she did not like to command simple grunts, they were too... well, simple. But a small squad of individuals who could think on their own and still follow orders, that's something different.

"_This place got hit hard, Commander"_, the voice of Nihlus then came over com._ "Hostiles everywhere. Keep your guard up."_

Not that the Turian must had said that, cause they were doing so anyway, but Shepard took it as a sign that the SpecTre was concerned for the team and not that he wasn't trusting them to be smart enough.

"Move out", she more or less whispered into the com unit of her helmet and together with her squad she began to make her way deeper into the combat zone. The com unit was only one of the reasons why she wore a helmet despite her hating the damned thing. The protection it offered was only minimal, what couldn't be stopped by her personal shielding would more or less cut through the helmet like a knife through hot butter. However, it offered not only an integrated com unit but also a simple display linked to her weapons and omni-tool, allowing her to see a map of the area, a bio-monitor keeping check of her own health, ammunition and so on without the need to check her omni-tool, a simple look was enough.

However, she still hated the thing.

They had just crossed about two hundred meters of ground when they stumbled over some strange, bulbous bags of flesh hanging in the air, swinging softly in the wind.

"What the hell are those?", Kaidan asked, his voice showing his slight disgust.

It was Jenkins who answered, just as Shepard had thought he would. Why shouldn't he, he came from this colony. "Gas bags. Don't worry, they're harmless. We used them as target practice when we were kids."

"When you were kids?", asked Chareen and though her face was hidden behind a full turian helmet, matching the dark blue and orange color scheme of her armor, Shepard could not help but to think she was smirking. Or, doing the turian equivalent of it at least.

"Okay, we still do so when I'm home", the marine admitted.

"Cut the chatter", Shepard hissed then and every other conversation was cut short. Not that she had anything against it, not really, but this was a damn important mission and she could not allow herself to get sloppy. And such easy chatter was a distraction which could lead to exactly that. Better safe than sorry.

The small team passed the floating gas bags and ascended onto a small hill, careful not to walk into any kind of trap. There was still some shooting to be heard in the distance and an eery absence of other noise, setting Shepard on edge.

With a few simple hand gestures she ordered the team to take point and survey the area. There was no movement to be seen, no enemy presence, nothing at all, as if whoever attacked the colony was just waiting out there. She double checked and then again, before ordering to get moving again.

Several minutes passed in near complete silence, no com chatter, no screams or muttering or anything at all except the wind in the leaves and the nearby beach. And of course shooting in the distance. Shepard and her team made their way through a loose formation of rocks, as the motion detector in her helmet lit up.

"Take cover!"

Immediately, like a well oiled machine, the entire squad threw themselves behind the rocks, as a small group of flying gun drones zipped out of the nearby trees and opened fire on them.

"Shit."

A swear on her lips, Shepard whirled around and fired at the single drone which tried to get into their backs, frying it with only a few shots and sending scrap metal to the ground. At least they weren't overly robust she thought with a slightly lighter heart.

The fight was a quick one. The small drones were faster than any normal combatant could ever hope to be, whizzing around the four humanoids and trying to get into their backs. Two of them were suddenly pulled towards an anomaly and thus easy pickings for Shepard and Jenkins, thanks to Chareen's quick acting.

The remaining three machines tried to corner Kaidan and while two of them forced him into cover, as the last one circled around and opened fire from a blind spot. The biotic soldier bit back a curse as his barriers lit up, but whirled around and using his biotic abilities used a Throw, meaning he literally used mass effect fields to hurl the bugger away with deadly force.

"Concentrate fire!", Shepard yelled and immediately four weapons were aimed at the reeling drone, shredding it to pieces.

Following their commands, the small hovering gun platforms kept on fighting, now switching their attention away from Kaidan, who was behind a rock anyway, towards Jenkins who had foolishly exposed himself towards them to get a clean shot.

Again personal shields lit up as the shots of mounted weapons were fire into it and they would have sliced through them like through wet paper, if the young man hadn't been tackled to the ground by Chareen.

Their target suddenly no longer in front of them, the drones had to recalibrate and that moment Shepard used to lean out of cover and open fire herself. However, it wasn't her rather wide salvo which did the deed, but the quick acting of Kaidan who fried them with two well aimed shots from his pistol.

Checking for any more of the little buggers and not seeing any, Shepard checked on Jenkins and Chareen. Both were in the process of getting up again, the later helping the first up and handing him the assault rifle he had lost during the collision of the two.

"You saved my life", he said with honest thankfulness and what could be understood as awe in his voice. "I would have been riddled with holes if it weren't for you."

Thanks to the helmet on the head of the female Turian, Shepard could not see the expression of her, but it was clear that she did not know how to deal with this.

"Jenkins!", she then barked as she marched up to the pair, the one whose name was called standing ramrod straight immediately. "If you ever again display such carelessness, you better hope you get killed, cause I will make your life an utter hell! Understood?!"

"Yes ma'am."

/

There had been a very unpleasant encounter with another swarm of the drones, this time ten of them circling around the squad and making battling them really hard thanks to the fact that they had made use of the trees between which they had fought.

Eden Prime was a heavily forested planet and even in the settled areas, like this, there were lots of trees, light forests and thick underbrush. Hard to move through and even though they kept to the dirt tracks they needed more time than Shepard would have liked.

Again there was shooting in the distance to be heard and then silence and Shepard send a silent prayer to whoever was listening, when again she was warned of movement thanks to her motion detector. In front of them was a small clearing and a building and she signaled Kaidan and Jenkins to circle around in a wide movement to her left, while she and Chareen sneaked closer.

Not that she was much of a sneaker, thank you, but her basic training had taught her at least the basics of it. Apparently, Chareen was the same, cause though she was clearly no infiltrator, she at least managed to not step onto every branch.

If it hadn't been such a tense time, the clearing could have been like out from a mushy movie, completely with romantic music everything. It was a nice piece of paradise, including a small statue in the middle of it depicturing a kindly smiling being which could have been a human or an asari or everything else. Kinda like a garden gnome, only much more tasteful.

On the other side of the clearing, half hidden between the trees, stood a small building. It looked like a cross between standardized colony buildings and a Japanese cottage, including a patio, a broad porch roof, large windows and a lovely decorated sliding door. There even were wind chimes hanging on the porch roof.

Like said before, it could have been peaceful and nice, if not for the robotic beings trying to force their way into the house. Whatever they were, she had never seen things like them before. Walking on two, backwards tinted legs, two arms ending in three fingered hands and instead of a head only something resembling a large flashlight. And they were carrying weapons, which looked, like them, as if they had been half poured and half constructed.

They also had two of the small drones hovering around them, which made them the enemy in Shepard's eyes.

Two of the robotic beings covered the sides of the buildings and the last one walked up the door, extending his arm towards the console to open it and... the door slid open before he even touched it. However, it stopped after just a few inches and then the loud thunder of a shotgun could be heard. The flashlight-head all but exploded in a spectacular mess of metal, synthetics and unknown materials as it was hit by the full force of a shotgun in point-blank range.

Before the other robots could return fire the door slid close again, before the now lifeless body of the would-be intruder even hit the ground.

Using the moment, Shepard slid from her cover, threw herself to the ground and opened fire, her squad following her lead and catching their enemies in the cross fire. It was like shooting fish in a barrel and soon over.

"What the hell are those things?", Kaidan asked as he stepped onto the clearing together with the rest of the squad. Unlike last time he asked, this time Jenkins had no answer for him.

"They kinda look like quarian robots...", Shepard muttered out loud, however the rest of her sentence she swallowed as the door to the small house slid open, this time fully. "I should have known!"

The Batarian who now had four weapons aimed at him, raised two eyebrows, the ones on the left. "I assure you my dear, I'm as much delighted about this meeting as you are. However, may I ask you, what you are doing on my lawn?"

/

When he felt the desire to meet new people, he would go into a bar or a cafe or just enter a chat room in the extra-net. Meeting them at his porch with their weapons pointed at his face was not one of his favorite options, yet the Batarian took it with a glint of humor. After all, he was a Batarian and if they hadn't pulled their weapons on him, he would have been surprised.

"I assure you my dear, I'm as much delighted about this meeting as you are." That was actually a lie, but a good one. In truth, while Commander Shepard was clearly not happy to see him, that means any member of his species, he himself was more or less only amused. "However, may I ask you, what you are doing on my lawn?"

For a second she seemed startled, then she answered without lowering her weapon: "I am Commander Shepard, System Alliance Navy. My team and me are on a mission on this planet. So, who are you?"

Dammit, that was THE opportunity and he had to let it pass. Well, you can't have every joke it seems, sometimes you have to refrain from letting your mouth run away with you. Bummer.

"My name is Korrik Vegaz, but people around here just call me Kor or That damned four eyed bastard", he then replied after a few seconds of hesitation. "And like I said, you are standing on my lawn. Not that I hold it against you, you just killed the Geth trying to kill me, which makes you an ally in my eyes, yet there is the fact that you are holding a weapon into my face."

Again Shepard hesitated. For a few tense moments she eyed him carefully, then she nodded to her squad. "Lower your weapons."

"Ma'am!"

"I said lower your weapon, Jenkins!"

They did as ordered and immediately Kor relaxed a bit. Cause as much as he knew that if he died nothing really bad would happen, it still hurt like a bitch. "Now that this is out of the way, I'm sorry but I have to bother you with a question. Are you THAT Commander Shepard who is called "_The Butcher of Torfan_"?"

The Commander winced inwardly and her face hardened inside her helmet. "Yes, I am. What is it to you?"

"Good", Kor answered now suddenly smiling. Other than what Shepard normally saw the face of Batarians, he was not showing her a superior smirk, but an honest, friendly smile. The humans didn't knew it, but to Batarians body language was extremely important, including grinning and smiling. It was considered uncouth to show those lower than you an honest emotion, including happiness and joy. Even the lowest Batarian children learned from a young age, that smiling at a being with only two eyes was just not done, that it was more than just frowned upon. However, Kor just did exactly that. "Than I'm happy to inform you, that I owe you my life. So, consider me your new man-servant."

For several seconds there was stunned silence, before Shepard finally shrieked: "HELL NO!"

/

It had, of course, been a long shot. No sane Commander would ever just allow anyone to join the squad during a vital mission, especially not one who was a civilian. Who would ever think such a thing would work?

Certainly not Kor.

Of course he knew that Shepard would not allow him to accompany her and her squad, he was slightly crazy, not stupid. However, she could not forbid him to follow her faithfully no matter what she said. She could hardly just shoot him, could she?

Well, to be honest, she could, but apparently that wasn't her style.

So Kor trailed Shepard's squad after she had forcefully informed him that she would of course NOT allow him to join her. There had been some shouts and hard words, a try to use logic, but finally she had just relented, turned around and walked away. Now she had a shadow, one small spy drone always keeping an eye on her and Kor himself only a few hundred meters behind at best. Often he was visible by the naked eye, as he had every intention of informing her of his intent to really become her man-servant.

"Is he still there?", Shepard asked through clenched teeth, not willing to turn around. She had enough trouble as it was, she did not need a fucking Batarian on her six to add to it.

"Aye ma'am, he is", answered Jenkins, who seemed to be amused by all this. If Shepard was honest with herself, the situation was kinda funny. If it would have happened to someone else, she would perhaps have laughed about it too. However, as it was her who had to deal with this, it wasn't half as funny as it could be.

"Who is still there?", Ashley Williams, the marine in the white and pink armor, asked with slight confusion in her voice. Shepard and her squad had saved the woman's life by coming to her rescue in the last second and after a short conversation she joined them on their mission. Because other than the Batarian, she was a Human System Alliance soldier who was trustworthy and knew the lay of the land.

"Some Batarian who thinks he owes our commander his life", Kaidan explained to her.

"Vegaz?"

"You know him?", the red haired Commander asked her.

"I know OFF him. A political refugee who was saved from slavery a few years prior. An ex-merc I think, sold into slavery by his comrades. At least, that's what people say around here", Ashley began to explain. "Can't say I have even talked with him so far. But then again, I haven't heard something bad about him either... besides him being a Batarian."

Further conversation was cut off as Nihlus informed the team that he was about to enter a small space port. There was a moment of hesitation from Chareen, but it went unnoticed by the rest of the squad.

Again there was com silence as the five of them carefully made their into the direction of said small space port, Ashley knew the way. With swift but careful strides they climbed a small slope and found, again, several long spikes on which humans had been impaled upon. It smelled terrible, a mix of blood, machine oil and excrement, making Jenkins gag.

Shepard repressed a shudder as she took in the scene. Even on Torfan, a world which had given her nightmares from which she sometimes woke up in the middle of the night to this day, she had not seen such a gruesome sight. Inwardly she already thought that she would spend some sessions with the ship's counselor if there would be one, when the spikes suddenly slid back into the machines from which they came out of.

And then the corpses, the horribly disfigured corpses of men and women and children alike, began to move. From one moment to the next, the somewhat strange mission turned into a horror vid.

/

Following the small squad, Kor had a lot of fun, more than ever since he had come to Eden Prime. As peaceful and lush the planet was, as boring it normally was, when not attacked by hordes of Geth trying to do as much damage as possible. What were these things thinking anyway? Was this their own doing or was Saren just trying to kill as many humans as possible?

Whatever the reason, it was way worse than the game would make you believe. Perhaps because, as it was often the case, reality is much harsher and grittier than simple pixels. You can't smell pixels, you can't feel, you can't interact with them the way you can with reality. The husks, the damned zombie like creatures, were a horrible sight to behold. Because they still looked human in a way but then again did not.

They were monsters now, horribly disfigured hulls of former humans, programmed to maim, hunt and kill. Still wearing clothes, still looking like persons in some way, but now just mindless machines. Plastic and tubes and metal embedded in flesh, no eyes but blue glowing orbs of pure, soulless matter.

And god, they stank to the heavens.

Using the camera in his small drone and the holographic monitor inside his goggles, Kor had watched the fight between Shepard's squad and the space zombies, which weren't really zombies actually. And not even called that.

The confrontation had not been like he had imagined it to be. No, there had been much confusion and hesitating and chaos and of course shooting. This time, other than when faced with the Geth, Shepard did not have had the luxury of cover or seconds of preparation but had been in the midst of it immediately.

It's really hard to keep your calm when zombies swarm you, hitting you with their ungodly strength and trying to rip you apart. Shepard had managed that, as did Ashley and Kaidan and even the Turian. Jenkins... not so much.

Being shot is one thing. A husk sitting on your chest, trying to chew your face of, your arm twisted in a more than just unnatural way, that's something completely else. There is no training for such a thing, there is no one warning you of something like this. No soldier could have been prepared for that, no matter how well trained.

Kor had watched how the young man had only barely survived it, managing to save his own life by grabbing his pistol and shooting with it into the body of the one sitting on him till the weapon had overheated. And all this while screaming all the time.

Well, if Kor and his companions had not been there, the young man would have been shot at the beginning of this mission, as if only to emphasize the dire situation to anyone playing the game. Which was, in the mind of the Batarian, entirely the reason why he had died. The young, slightly naive soldier being killed directly in front of the main character, a classic.

"Heroes are born in fire and blood", Kor had mumbled with a hint of a smile on his features. "And so things... change."

He again got a move on as the squad began to descend the hill, making their way to the spaceport where they had hoped to met up with Nihlus.

Walking through the battle scene, smelling the scents of the husks, once even stepping into a corpse, Kor fought back a shudder. This was certainly one of the messier worlds he had been in so far. Okay, well, Warhammer40k had been a lot more brutal and harsh, but then again, that was dark fantasy, what did you expect?

But perhaps, Kor mused as he began to jog after Shepard's squad, it was only himself. Perhaps he just had a bit of bad luck always ending up in such situations and not ones where it was a bit more, well, clean. Less zombies or slavers or Geth, but perhaps just mercenaries and criminals. Perhaps he should have become a C-Sec officer. Do they take in Batarians? Would have been worth a shot.

/

Though it felt kind of morbid to think so, Kaidan got the impression that Jenkins had to be the most lucky guy ever. He got nearly killed by Geth. Then he got nearly killed by the walking dead. Then he got nearly killed by Geth again and then finally got nearly killed by an explosive charge. And he was still breathing and only a little banged up.

Well, perhaps a bit more than just a little, but nothing Dr. Chakwas couldn't cure. Perhaps he was more of the luckiest unlucky soldier ever, considering that he seemed to attract enemy fire.

Ashley was checking on the Commander, Chareen was scanning the remains of the prothean beacon. The beacon which had exploded just right as they had arrived, catching the Commander in some kind of gravity field and pulling her in.

They had arrived at the small Space Port of the colony and found a dead Nihlus there, killed by a bullet to the back of his head. Rather gruesome, really. There had been a witness, a local dock worker named Powell who had survived the attack because he had been slacking off behind some crates and had seen what had happened. Another Turian had been there, at least that's what the fellow had said, first talking with Nihlus, then killing him.

And apparently this other Turian, named Saren if this Powell was to believed, was working with the Geth. Attacking the colony, killing innocents, stealing and finally destroying the beacon, all that was done by this asshole.

After the encounter with Powell the Commander had ordered the whole team to make godspeed and follow Saren using the small hover train connecting the small civilian Space Port with the larger mercantile one. And of course there had been shooting involved again, as they had been attacked by a bunch of Geth and their unnerving drones who had only waited for them at the train station. However, thanks to quick thinking, good shooting and a few well aimed biotic powers, they had been dealt with quick.

The rest had been kind of a rush. There had been bombs involved, more shooting, shouted commands and a lot of adrenaline. Kaidan had no idea how he had managed to defuse the bombs so quickly, it had been as if there had been no firewalls at all. A design oversight? Possibly.

Well, and now the Commander was out cold, Nihlus was dead, Jenkins was banged up and the beacon was destroyed. All in all, a complete failure of a mission. Joy.

Kaidan sighed. It was then that his motion detector informed him of someone, or something, coming into their direction.

Thanks to shared sensory data between the squads omni-tools, immediately did not only he react, Chareen and Ashley too jumped to their feet and aimed their weapons. "Come out", he commanded, trying to sound as intimidating as he could. "We know you're there."

Of course it was the Batarian, who else, who stepped out from behind the wall and more or less jovially walked into their direction. Neither did he have his hands up in surrender, nor a weapon in his hands. On the contrary, he was typing away on his omni-tool. "I know that you know that I was there. I had no intention on sneaking up on you."

"Mister Vegaz", Kaidan began and then stumbled over the fact, that he had no idea what to say now. Hell, what would the Commander do now? Dammit, why him? Why now? This was all so messed up. "It is not safe here. I ask you to return to your home and remain there until further notice."

"No chance in hell my good man", came the friendly if kinda forceful reply. "It is like this: I have a debt to repay to your Commander and I intent on paying up. And anyway, as I see it, you need as much help you can get, even if this help comes from a strange and unexpected side."

"I assure you, the System Alliance Navy is more than capable of dealing with this", Kaidan answered him. If he said it a few more times, perhaps he would believe it himself.

"Oh, I'm not talking about the Geth alone", Kor said. "I'm talking about the fact that apparently, if Mister Powell is to be believed, the man you're up against is a highly decorated Spectre with years of experience, friends in high places, the trust of the Council and of course the fact that he has control over a ship larger than a dreadnought. I don't know about you, but for me that sounds as if you can really use some help."

For a few seconds Kaidan hesitated, then he turned his head to take a look at Ashley. She was fully concentrated on the four eyed alien, not taking any chances, her assault rifle still aimed at him. Then he took a look at Chareen, who met his eyes. Again a few seconds hesitation, then she nodded once.

"Okay", he finally relented, signaling Ashley to lower her weapon. "How can you help us?"

"Well, for starters..." Kor typed a few commands into his omni-tool and then showed the lit up holographic screen to the three of them. "I can hack military-grade omni-tools from a distance to use them to crack firewalls from Geth-bombs."

Again there were a few seconds of silence, before Kaidan nodded. "I can't decide such a thing. I will contact our commanding officer and inform him of your request, but I can't promise anything."

The Batarian did take that, it was better than having to remain behind and follow the Commander by foot, so to speak.

/

Nihlus dead, the beacon destroyed, his second in command being in coma and no one knowing if she will ever again wake up. This whole mission, which should have been a simple pick-up and delivery run, had turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Neither the military brass would be pleased nor the council.

However, those were things he could right now not chance. Captain David Anderson knew that it was pointless to cry over spilled milk, he could only hope for the best at this moment. Instead he had decided to do something useful for the moment, several of them to be precise. Writing a report for his superiors and the council, listening to the vocal reports of his soldiers, having an interview with Williams.

"The council will want your witness report", he said to her as she has sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk, where only a few hours prior Nihlus had sat and sipped turian coffee. "And it is always good to have another good soldier on board."

"Thank you sir."

"Lieutenant Alenko wrote high praise about your combat capabilities", the captain told her then, studying her reaction to it. Which was in essence none at all, she just sat there as stiff as a brick and left her face bare of any emotion. "Which is the reason why I requested for you to be transferred to this ship."

"Thank you sir."

For a few moments Anderson just studied her, looking for any reaction he could use to get a better feel for her, yet found none. Well, she surely did have the whole no showing emotions thing down. "There is written a lot of praise about you in your file. Level headed under pressure, disciplined, keeps her equipment in peak condition, mostly good things. There is, however, also a note about you being a thick-headed stubborn mule. Their words not mine. Will that be an issue on board?"

"No sir."

Damn she was good, not even flinching. To be honest, that note had been written down by her first commanding officer after basic training, which means she should have been asked that question a lot. People can change, mellow a bit with age. And considering that this entry into her file was more than ten years old, well, she must have had a lot of opportunity for changing. "You lost your unit down there, got them all killed. Not a good track record, is it?"

"No sir." Though it came a bit more shaky this time, again Anderson was impressed with her calm demeanor and expression, not even her eyes moving around. This woman was really good at self-control.

"But to be fair, I'm not sure anyone could have made better decisions had they been in your shoes. So, what exactly happened before you met up with my team?"

Now, finally, there was a short moment of hesitation, before the Gunnery Chief began to recount the events before she ran into Shepard's team. About how she and her squad had moved out for a patrol and got ambushed by the Geth, running right into their arms and being caught in the crossfire. From her account, yes she had made mistakes, yes she had not been prepared enough, but that was a mistake anyone would have made in that situation. The Geth have not been seen outside the Perseus Veil for over three hundred years and humans had never met them anyway, so who could have had anticipated this?

And all the time, Anderson did only half listen to what she told him, he was more interested in HOW she told it. There were seconds of silence as she recounted how her unit was decimated, there were balled fists and rolled shoulders and yet she was, all in all, still rather calm.

"You did the right thing", Anderson finally said. "No one could have done any better. Williams, let me be frank. I got the feeling that this will turn into a long deployment for all of us, even you. I want to know if I can count on you."

"May I speak freely sir?"

Normally when a soldier asked this question it was then followed by a very unpleasant statement. Like that they thought that their superior officers were incompetent assholes or that they thought the whole undertaking stupid as fuck. Hoping for the best but fearing the worst, David Anderson nodded to her. "Go ahead soldier."

"I would gladly blow some Geth apart and kick some ass."

"You're hungry for payback?"

"Hell yes I am."

Well, that hadn't been as unpleasant as it could have been. "Good. Cause I think you will get it. Dismissed."

Williams stood up and saluted him, before striding out of the small office. One thing done, about three hundred thousand and six more to do. Like a Batarian down in the brig. The Captain felt the need for a stiff drink rising. Perhaps Karen, um, Doctor Chakwas had some medical treatment for that.

* * *

_Jenkins is still alive, Nihlus is dead... what else is new?_

_I had thought about various ways of killing of Jenkins, but somehow I just could not manage it. Well, we'll see how that works out. Next time our heroes will meet the council, Udina, a bunch of other characters and some things will turn ugly pretty fast._


End file.
