Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect. I only own Tristan; he is me, yet he isn't… I've changed a few things.

I won't bother telling you how I got here, not all that interesting anyways. All you need to know is that I've been in the Mass Effect universe for five years now. My life here has been… interesting, to say the least.

My first memory of this place is a frightening one. I woke up with explosions going off around me and Zaeed Massani standing over me. "Tristan," he bellows at me, "get up!" The fire in his eyes didn't grant me time to ask questions.

I grab a Matlock rifle and push myself up. Shots wiz around me as I run for cover, slamming myself against a large boulder. Peeking out from behind my cover, I notice batarians firing at us. Batarians, Zaeed. Places me in the Mass Effect Universe. "Crap," I mutter under my breath. A few shots glance off the rock and I lift the Matlock, taking aim. My finger pulls the trigger and the recoil knocks me on my butt. Screaming cuts through the air; my intended target I'm guessing.

"Bloody hell, you hit?" Zaeed asks. I shake my head as he extends a hand and pulls me up. Before I can say anything, he turns, rolls out of cover, and opens fire. He charges forward and the batarians fall back. "Amateurs!" he screams, his face turning red. "Stand and fight!"

I follow in his wake, keeping quiet with Matlock raised. We vault over their dead and weapons, hot on their heels. Opening fire, I bring down two more batarians, the recoil nearly knocking me off my feet. I've got to get used to that.

The last of the batarians pulls out some sort of grenade and we back up. A blinding flash, flames everywhere. I hesitate while Zaeed rushes on, dashing through the flames as if they were nothing. A couple of minutes later, shots are fired and Zaeed returns. "Got the bastard," he states, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Let's head back to the ship Tristan."

My memory is a bit foggy after that. Zaeed and I split ways after that, him going off to track down a bounty on Illum while I go to my home. On Omega. Of all the places to end up... curse my luck. Aria and I don't see eye to eye, and she's suspicious of me. I'm worried she'll try to have someone off me.

Using a terminal in my room, I try to research myself. Thankfully, the terminal interface isn't that much different than a computer; otherwise I'd be out of luck. The research takes a while, but I finally found my profile in the Omega citizen registration logs. Didn't expect this type of thing to exist here. Anyways, here's my profile.

Tristan Alchmeda Ryein

Gender: Male

Birthdate: April 23, 2155

Current age: 23

Hair: Dark red

Eyes: Cyan

Birthplace: Edinburgh, Scotland, Planet Earth

Background: Born and raised on Earth, graduated at the age of 18. His parents were both former Alliance soldiers. Former member of the Shaded Star gang on Earth and bounty hunter. Minor catches. Specializes in Matlock Heavy Rifle and dual pistols. Trained from a young age to be the perfect soldier by his parents; fled home after graduation. Parents died two years later.

Threat level: Medium. Keep an eye on him. His skills with pistols is greater than his skills with a rifle; recommend sending a small squad to make him "disappear" if he causes any problems. His skills are most likely due to the training his parents put him through.

That's the end of it. Needless to say, I worked my way down to the "low" threat level and Aria lightened up around me, though there's not much of a difference. That was five years ago.

The current star date is 2183. I'm no longer on Omega. Currently, I'm staring down a small squad of geth on the Citadel. To think I moved here to get some peace and quiet; this place is anything but. The Reaper, Sovereign, has started his attack. No worries, though. I've played the game, I know Shepard's going to save us.

The question is, will I be alive to see it? One bounty hunter and four C-Sec personnel against twenty or so geth? Odds aren't in our favor. Still, we fight on. Plasma tears past me and into the chest of Chitwa, a salarian officer. Her muffled scream as she falls is barely noticed. No time to mourn; she was a good friend, I'll make sure she gets the funeral she deserves.

Back to the task at hand. We're running low on ammo, the geth are advancing. Few of them fall, not nearly enough. It's going to take a miracle for us to get out alive. One of the other C-Sec officers, a turian, pulls out something from his belt and tosses it.

The concussion grenade goes off, knocking a few of the geth backwards, bringing down shields. More of them fall. Thirteen to four now. It hardly seems to matter, though, as both geth destroyers are still standing.

Our fire slackens as we take pot shots, doing our best to conserve ammo and stay alive. Guess I should mention we're holed up in one of the 800 level apartments; probably one of the reasons we're not dead. Yet.

Still advancing, their lights focusing on us. I take out an incendiary, hoping it'll buy us time. The a couple of the geth, including one of the destroyers, catches fire and I expend the last of my ammo and bring it down. No gun, no ammo, I look around for anything that I could use. Why I left my weapons in my apartment I'll never know; perhaps because I don't want them to get confiscated.

The only thing I see is Chitwa's sub-machine gun. The clip's half empty and there's only three clips left. Returning to the window, I expend then switch out the clip. There are less than ten now. We just might make it through this.

"Out!" the turian cries. He then proceeds to run to the doorway, prompting the rest of us to do the same. An explosion rips the wall away, sending chunks flying everywhere. We're booking it out of the apartment complex and into the next, the geth streaming in behind us. The last of our grenades is used to collapse a hallway, forcing the geth pursuing us to find another route.

An explosion rocks the ward, then another. Burning metal falls from the sky, and I know that Sovereign is no more. With baited breath we wait for the geth, holing up in this apartment. Movement to our left, gunshots, cries of victory. "They're on the run!" somebody shouts. More gunfire. A knock on the door. "Is anybody in there?" the same voice shouts.

It is the turian who speaks up. "Officer Visket, C-Sec. I've got officers Ginwe and Chrugak with me and a bounty hunter. We lost Chitwa."

The door opens to reveal another turian. He nods towards Visket address us. "The destruction of that ship has thrown the geth into disarray. They're uncoordinated, like they don't know what's going on. C-Sec is cleaning them up right now with help from Alliance personnel. Word is Shepard had something to do with it. Not bad for a human."

"This one's not too bad either," Visket replies, pointing to me. "Great shot with a Matlock. Keeps calm under pressure. Friend of Chitwa's, I believe."

"Tristan Ryein, sir," I state, addressing the turain. One eye opens wide.

"The Ryein who stopped an assassination attempt on Admiral Hackett last year?" he asks.

"Yes sir," I reply. Didn't feel like talking about it. I was made a hero for killing one of my closest friends and saving Hackett's life; I didn't feel like a hero. Just a regular guy in the right place at the right time.

He seems to notice my demeanor and doesn't pursue the matter, though he wants to. The others slightly gawk at me. "You can help clean up or report to the infirmary if you have wounds," he orders. Turning to me, he adds, "Want to help clean up the geth?"

I nod. "Give me a weapon and ammo and I'll be ready."

None of us got any sleep the next couple of days. The geth formed small pockets of resistance all across the Citadel, but we located and wiped them out. Bloody took forever, but we did it.

So, the Citadel's saved, the Council was saved, Anderson is the first human Councillor, and I'm alive. This universe has become my home, and I've all but left the other universe in my distant memory.

One month from now, the SSV Normandy will be destroyed and Shepard will be killed. Two years from now, Cerberus will bring him back to life. Two years from now, I'll probably still be on the Citadel.

I'm Tristan Ryein, and this is my story.