Disclaimer- I do not own Mass Effect or any of its characters, settings, ships, storylines, etc. BioWare and EA maintain all rights, and I am merely a lowly hack with a laptop and an internet connection.

Mass Effect: Aconcagua Dawn is rated (M) for violence, strong language, sexual/adult themes and alcohol/drug use.

A/N- FemShep, Earthborn street urchin, Akuze survivor, Paragon, FemShep/Liara and a lil bit of Garrus/Tali later on. But not really.

September 4th, 2013 (Update)

So… as I finish writing and posting Episode II of Acon Dawn, five long years after having started it, I'm noticing that many people are viewing this first episode. That, while being awesome, is also a pain. This episode was short, choppy and, worst of all, contained numerous errors. Kaidan's name spelled 'Kaiden', every race being capitalized in name (Krogan, Asari, etc.) and random typos and continuity errors. The first game was the only thing I had to go off of, the other two being merely a dream and a hope of what was to come. I made, and will continue to make, a lot of mistakes. But at least now I can suck it up and run back through this, fixing the most glaring of errors. So that's what this update does. No new story elements, just… you know, making it less cringe-worthy.

Also of note; ME: Aconcagua Dawn is AU after ME1- Takes place mere weeks after the events of Mass Effect 1, as that was all we had when I first started writing and uploading this. No Cerberus, none of the awesome cast of ME2 (yet), no little blue space-magic motherfucker. Just the core cast of the first game.


*~~*~~*
CITADEL
TRANSIT PORT AR-12
*~~*~~*

Din Korlak stepped on-board the Nightingale with a heavy sigh. Thirty-two hours ago he'd been asleep in his temporary chambers, awaiting the completion of the restoration effort to his home and office back on the Citadel. One distress call over the extranet later and he'd been forced to scramble up whatever meager essentials he could find, build a shipping party that could take him to Tuchanka in three days and maintain some sense of civility towards the complete lack of intelligence and respect that surrounded him.

He rubbed at the chain connected to his suited wrist. The chain ran from his wrist to a brown pleather briefcase attached to a metallic hoop at his waist. It was aggravating, but the safest form of travel for the documents he was transporting.

Whoomph! Behind Din, a number of his bags containing personal effects tumbled off the loader and onto the cold grey steel floor of the Nightingale's entryway.

"Hey!" Din shouted.

The young salarian who'd been carting his bags on board stopped and turned to him expressionlessly.

Din continued, though a look of respectful fear would've been appreciated. "I understand that you scaled, bulbous-eyed, worm-feeders have no problem with failing at simple tasks, it comes naturally to those with a lower intellect, and I can't fault you for being clumsy either," Din took a deep breath of methane from his suit, "because with a body that gangly and malformed it's a wonder how you put one foot in front of the other every day," another breath, "but if it's not too much trouble, in the future, and only if you'd be so kind, when you decide it's just too daunting for you to push something of mine from point a to point b without dropping it, I'd greatly prefer that you do so with your head to the ground, so that when I pick up my bags myself, I don't have to look you in the face and realize that the future of my people", one final deep intake of gas as his voice rose several octaves in anger, "has been entrusted to a species so inept that half of my carry-on luggage has been crushed and broken before I've even seated myself for the flight!"

The salarian stared back silently. Din waited, breathing heavily and staring up at him.

The salarian blinked.

Din sighed, turned and waved his hand. "Just stow them in the back, preferably somewhere enclosed, like a storage compartment. You know, a place for bags."

When he got to his seat, several large forms were already seated around the area. They were not part of his shipping party.

The creature closest to him lowered the magazine it had been reading (or at least holding in front of it's face) as Din hopped into his seat, fussing with the briefcase to fit it comfortably beside him.

The female krogan leered at him. "Trouble with your bags, Ambassador?"

Din huffed. "From one idiot species to the next. My suffering never ends."

The krogan barked out a husky, feminine chortle. "Take heart, Ambassador. All suffering ends eventually."

Din looked up at her sharply.

She smiled, and even for a krogan, the smile held a lot of venom. The promise of pain.

"But not before it gets much, much worse."

The ship started to rumble and shake. It was taking off, and forty minutes before it was supposed to.

Din looked around nervously. "What's going on here?!"

The figures, the krogans, rose from their seats. All of them.

Din lunged forward from his seat and darted his bulky form to the right, then turned towards the rear of the ship, narrowly missing the female krogan's claws as they swiped for him.

All he had to do was make it to the rear hatch, fifteen, maybe twenty feet away. The suitcase jostled at his waist. Din reached out and grabbed a cart of medical supplies, yanking it into the corridor between him and his pursuers.

He jumped forward just in time to avoid being crushed by the lead krogan as it tumbled over the cart, landing on its side.

The krogans roared behind him as he bolted for the exit, fear and adrenaline giving him the speed he needed.

He stumbled into the back and tripped, an arm's length from the door. Enraged, Din looked back to see what he'd tripped over. Two of his bags. They'd been stacked on the outside of a storage compartment.

Several feet away lay the salarian boy. His throat cut, lifeblood pouring out of him in waves. His eyes were sightless.

"Idiot!" Din gasped and stood, slammed against the exit hatch. His small, chubby hands fumbled with the release bar. He strained against it, the bar beginning to lift.

And then Din felt a claw tear into his shoulder. Then another on his leg.

She breathed into the side of his mask, a rank smell of rotten flesh and mildew.

"You can't leave Ambassador. You have a very, very, important meeting to catch." The claws dug deeper.

Din Korlak screamed.