Author's notes: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3 and all related characters and trademarks are property of EA/Bioware. Rated M for language, violence and suggestive themes.

Author's Notes: Just a little something I've decided to do alongside my main ME3 fic. This deals with certain minor characters that appear in Into The Unknown, and helps tell the story of what happened after Shepard left Earth. This will feature OCs only, no Canon Characters, as it is meant to be an extension of ITU, much like the Dark Horse comics are to the games.

There will be six chapters, which I will release from time to time to coincide with certain events from ITU. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Mass Effect: Resistance

Chapter One: Endurance

'Two million dead in the first day, another seven million by the end of the first week…'

The streets were completely devoid of movement, inhabited only by the occasional wisp of smoke escaping from a pile of debris or the very rare rat scuttling about furtively, although those sightings had become more scarce in recent days. Some thought that the invaders emitted a form of radiation that killed small life forms, others suspected that the strange beings' even stranger servants devoured them. The pair of beings moving through the streets didn't know, nor did they care as they stalked through the empty city.

The normally pristine sandy hair of the former Alliance soldier at the head of the column was heavily matted with grime, dust and ash, clear evidence of his long stint in the burnt out husk of a city. Green eyes glared out from beneath heavy brows, encircled by an armada of wrinkles, the parting gifts of many sleepless nights spent on watch. He was tall, with a frame that wasn't overly broad, but at the same time wasn't too narrow either. His lanky arms and legs, along with the thick muscles on his body spoke of the kind of strength crafted by a life filled with struggle and hardship, beaten into an especially tough exterior by recent difficulties. He still wore his old combat armour, a dusty grey collection of plates that could deflect most forms of small-arms fire. Bullet holes and scorch marks across the exterior spoke of recent combat, along with a lack of facilities to repair them. The left leg of the suit was pitch-black, out of sync with the rest of the armour, clearly stripped from one of the dead to replace a destroyed predecessor. The soldier walked with a slight limp, indicating that the attack that had destroyed the last piece of leg armour had also left him with a troubling injury. However, he did not allow it to slow him down, bearing the occasional twinge of pain with a strong expression.

"We're almost there." His companion muttered.

Benjamin Swift, a former Captain in the Alliance, turned to look at his companion, the small but heavily muscled Tina Hebditch. She stood at about five foot and seven inches, but the way she held herself gave the illusion of extra height. She had the stance of a boxer, intimating stored strength. Her arms were bulky, and her legs were coated in thick muscles. Having spent her life making a living in London's back streets, she'd quickly learned of her gift for combat, and had soon found employment, mostly as an enforcer, but also sometimes as an amateur boxer, wrestler, or anything else she could find to do that involved getting into a ring and fighting in front of a crowd of intoxicated men. All too often, she had been forced to use her skills to emphatically turn down a potential suitor on the wrong side of a bottle of Batarian liquor.

This powerful build, however, did not mean that she was unattractive, however. Although not extraordinarily endowed, she had been granted the appropriately curved physique that turned some heads in any bar or nightclub she entered. Her soft, rounded features were somewhat attractive, with round, slightly pouting lips and almond shaped eyes that betrayed a drop of Eastern blood in her veins, although she possessed the pale skin and striking blonde hair of a woman of Norse descent. A true child of the multi-cultural Britain in existence today, her true ancestry was difficult to pinpoint, although the air of mystery did add somewhat to her attractiveness. When she spoke, her voice purred with the slight burr of a resident of the borders between England and Scotland.

Benjamin looked about dubiously, eyeing up the surrounding buildings. They were in the middle of a residential area, identical in appearance to any other. Buildings on either side stared at them with hollow, accusing windows, soot from long-dead fires staining the walls.

The initial attack had sparked a fire of greater intensity than the Great Fire of several centuries ago, washing through the city in a cleansing wave that left many dead in its wake, some killed by the flames, others choked by the smoke that had formed a cloud about four kilometres across. Even now, fires still burned in certain districts of the city, and Benjamin had walked through places where the rubble still smouldered deep underfoot, causing the streets above to become unbearably hot. Without any intervention, the fire could continue to burn for years to come, underground and out of site. It made seeking refuge a nightmare. Lifting a manhole or opening a door could allow an inrush of air to a mostly dormant blaze and spark a lethal fireball. This made any haven a godsend, earnestly sought after by survivors the city over.

With all of this running through his mind, Benjamin examined the empty houses around him. They were all fairly standard, two-floor semi-detached homes, possibly a good investment for a young family looking to spread its wings, but not especially secure for the survivors of an alien invasion, and especially not ideal as a fortress against the creatures that roamed the streets at night, doing their masters' bidding. Ben raised an eyebrow as he turned back to Tina. He returned the questioning glance with a grimace of annoyance, pushing past him.

"Just watch, soldier boy." She grumbled, although the smirk on her lips betrayed her amusement.

She strode up the street, counting the houses. As she approached the front gate of the fifteenth one along, she turned and entered the house through the front door, the actual door having been broken down by some immensely strong creature and forcing her to pick through the jagged fragments. Ben followed cautiously.

The soldier was forced to turn away in disgust as they passed the living room, confronted by a scene of horror. His hand shot to his mouth as bile rose in his throat, but he managed to quell the urge to vomit, steeling himself to look again as Tina guided him through.

The occupants of the house were still there, all in varying stages of decomposition. The father of the family was lying on the floor of the living room, face-down. Judging by the amount of blood staining the carpet around him, there must have been very little left of the front of him. Various organs spilled out across the carpet in a gory tide, sending a smell up towards the ceiling that had an almost tangible presence in the room. His wife and young son had fared no better, huddled in a corner with fear etched across their faces, an expression that death had made permanent. Benjamin refused to examine them any more closely, knowing that what he would see would only further rob him of peace. Thankfully, Tina quickly guided him past the grisly scene.

"What are they still doing there?" Benjamin asked, his ability to speak returning once he had left the room.

"A house full of bodies suddenly getting cleaned up would look rather suspicious, don't you think?" Tina pointed up to the ceiling, indicating something outside. "They know we don't like to hang around our dead. That our first instinct would be to put the bodies to rest. They've had plenty of time to learn our ways, and now they're using those against us. We've got to change, start doing things that don't fit into the pattern."

Benjamin nodded in silence. It made sense. He didn't like it, but apparently it worked. He followed Tina to a door at the back of the house. She opened the door, revealing a staircase heading downwards. Without another word, they descended into a basement, dank and musty. Ben looked about with the aid of his omnitool's torch function, scanning the room. When he realised it contained only a few boxes, he glanced to Tina questioningly.

"Just hold on a second." She muttered back. With that, she walked up to one wall and thumped on it with a clenched fist.

Moments later, a grinding sound could be heard a segment of the wall shuddered back a foot before sliding to the side shakily. A large, heavily built figure stood in the new opening, glaring at the two new arrivals with open hostility. A lit cigar danced on his lower lip, casting strange shadows across a scarred and pock-marked face.

"Who is this?"

His voice was thick, heavy, bearing a strong Slavic accent. As he talked, the lit cigar bounced around, trailing dim orange light across his face. Benjamin could see several days worth of black stubble, matching the greasy mop of limp black hair shot through with flashes of grey that covered his scalp. Sharp brown eyes glared from beneath a brow like a paving slab.

"A new recruit." Tina answered stiffly. "Stand down, Nikolai."

With a grunt, the lumbering man stepped back, hand dropping from his hip. Benjamin took note of the gun holstered there, a little surprised to see what might as well have been a compact shotgun in each hip holster, such was the size and evident power of these pistols. Benjamin was a little surprised to see this 'Nikolai' carrying two, as he guessed most men would struggle to carry one and be able to fire it effectively. The recoil must have been monstrous on them. 'Nikolai' caught his gaze, and glared.

"Nice guns." Benjamin muttered. He was rewarded with a snort, followed by a thick chuckle.

"Ha! Go play somewhere else, leedle man. These are not toys like guns you carry. They break your arm in two shots."

Benjamin bristled at the mocking comments, but held his tongue. Now was not the time to piss off potential allies. Tina waved him past the door-guard, ushering him on into the tunnels beyond. Behind them, the inconspicuous entrance into the basement ground shut.

"We stumbled on these pretty much by accident." Tina explained as she clambered over piles of rubble and through pools of water coated with thick scum. "One of our jeeps got a wheel stuck in a manhole, and when we saw that the tunnel wasn't on fire like the last half dozen, we decided to investigate. Turns out the sewer's been sealed off about a mile in each direction from here by falling material, dislodged when those things landed and started blasting the crap out of the city. We got free air-flow, water that can be cleaned up to a drinkable standard, and all the vermin we can stomach. Not much, but living's better than dead."

"How many of you are there? You said you had jeeps?"

"Yeah, 'had' being the operative word there. They're hidden somewhere in the city, but they're useless without any petrol."

"They still run on petrol?" Benjamin asked incredulously.

"They're the only vehicles that don't get spotted by the global surveillance network. Let's us move about without drawing attention to ourselves. Of course, nobody's really made vehicles that run on internal combustion for a couple of decades, so we had to steal these out of a museum. The petrol was even worse. In the end we had to find a close enough substitute and just hope the engines didn't blow up too quickly." She paused to look back at him. "Don't know what you were thinking, but an army, we ain't."

"I'm just glad to finally meet up with some survivors." He said, glancing to the walls distractedly. "A month in one goddamn clock tower completely alone can do funny things to a man's head."

"I'll bet." Tina chuckled. "Alright… we're here."

As she said this, she led him around a final corner, into a brightly-lit segment of the sewers. A half dozen faces turned his way, hollow eyes regarding him with caution, hope and hostility, all at once. Three tents had been set up in the tunnel, little more than canvas sheets laid over hastily tied together sticks in a feeble attempt to service modesty. Crates of supplies had been piled up against the far wall, behind the biggest of the tents.

Benjamin spared a moment to look around before his attention was drawn to a short, solidly built man approaching him. He must have been the leader of the settlement, if it could be called that. 'Camp' seemed more appropriate.

"Tina! Welcome back." He spoke warmly. His accent bore just the slightest twang of an Irishman, a quiet purr to his voice. "And who might this be?"

Benjamin regarded the new arrival. He was short, but possessed muscles that would make a smart man think twice about taking him on. His face was weathered to such a degree that he could have been in his late forties, more probably his early fifties. The rust-coloured hair on his head was thinning, allowing a dome of smooth scalp to peek out at the crown of his head. His eyes were a dull greyish-blue in hue, and his teeth were a weathered yellow, stained by years of smoking. A bulbous nose protruded from the front of his face, coloured the angry red of an alcoholic of several decades.

"Captain Benjamin Swift, Systems Alliance Navy." Benjamin said stiffly, extending a hand.

"James Kenney, formerly a Colonel of the Alliance Army." The ruddy-faced man took Benjamin's hand in his powerful grip.

"Formerly?" Benjamin asked.

"First Contact War, Shanxi. Stood too close to a grenade one of those Turian bastards threw our way. Medic patched me up just fine, but the nerves were never the same, you know?" James turned away, waving for the duo to follow him. "So, where did Tina dig you up, then?"

"Benny boy here's been the one taking out all of those damn creatures around Westminster." Tina explained.

"Is that so? Well, I guess I owe you me thanks, boy." James threw a wink back over my shoulder. "I was out there one night when an unknown sniper got two of those beasts offa my back. Let me get the hell outta there that day. Never could find anyone there when we went back the next day."

"I've been keeping low."

"Well, what made you come outta hidin' now?"

"Food. I had supplies, but those MREs only last so long."

"Plus they all taste like shite."

"That, too. I'd hoped to see some reinforcements arriving before now, though. So I thought I had enough to last if I stayed put and did my best to keep the area clear."

"I think we've all got used to the idea that help's not comin', son. It's been a month and a half now, and there's not even been a flash o' light in the sky to say that somebody's fightin' to get through. We just gotta make do with what we have ourselves."

"No. Help's coming." Benjamin said firmly. "Shepard's out there, working to gather an army to come back here and show these bastards a thing or two."

"Shepard?" James almost laughed. "He's probably dead, along with the rest of the people who tried to fight."

"He's alive." Benjamin said.

"And how would you know?"

"Because I helped him get out of here. I let myself get stranded here so that he had a shot at saving the Council and getting to safety."

"So you saw Commander Shepard get away?" Tina asked with hope in her voice.

"Yes. He's out there right now, doing everything he can to help us." Benjamin assured.

"Then what's taking him so long, huh?" James asked in a confrontational tone. "Why hasn't he come riding in to save the day like you seem so certain he will?"

Benjamin was silent, glaring at the former soldier's back. James sighed, sensing that this topic pained the young Captain.

"This isn't the time for this." He grunted. "We're on our own right now. We've got to focus on what we can do by ourselves. Tina, did you find anything out while you were scouting?"

"Just the same as what we've seen before. They're taking the city apart, piece by piece. Herding up any survivors they find, less and less every day. They take the captives and the raw materials from the buildings to someplace over on the East side of town. I couldn't get close enough for a good look, though. Too heavily patrolled. It was on my way back I bumped into Benny here."

"What are they doing with all those resources?" James wondered out loud. He shrugged. "Gotta find out. Tina, gather everyone together. We need to talk."

~o~0~o~

Moments later, the small cluster of people had gathered around a large crate that served as a table. James stood at the head of the table, watching those in his care with sharp eyes. Tina stood to his left, arms folded across her chest. Benjamin looked to the rest of the group around the table, examining each one in person. There were nine of them in total, including Benjamin, Tina, James and Nikolai, who had just returned from watching the concealed entrance to the tunnel. Benjamin scanned the other five survivors briefly. One was a stocky man of American descent, with stony features and a calculating gaze, another was a young black man, barely out of his teens, who constantly ran his hands through his wiry black hair and nibbled at his nails. The third and fourth members of the crew were plainly bother and sister, their deeply tanned skin spoke of a Middle-Eastern origin. The final member of the group returned Benjamin's probing stare with one of her own, sparing him a smirking wink. She deeply slanted eyes, combined with a snow-white complexion and deeply red lips hinted at a Chinese or Japanese lineage. As she pushed a few strands of her raven-black hair away from her face, she spoke up to address the new arrival.

"Ts'ao Lei." She bowed her head. "But you can call me Lei."

"Benjamin Swift."

"Good to meet you, Benjamin. Welcome to the resistance."

"Lei, that's enough chatter." James said sternly. He turned to face the rest of the group. "I wanted to speak to you all today because its becoming clearer with every day that we can't just sit here and wait for the world to come to an end. These invaders are moving. They're gathering any resources they can take by disassembling buildings, taking entire city blocks for some unknown purpose. They're also rounding up survivors, herding them about like cattle. Things are happening, and it's only a matter of time before they find us. We need to find out what we can do to fight these things before hiding ceases to be an option."

He leaned forward, spreading out an array of datapads on the table before the group. Benjamin felt his breath catch in his throat as he surveyed the grand sum of knowledge the survivors had on their strange new enemy. He glanced from image to image, shivering as he spotted the cold, emotionless metal shapes. James caught his gaze, the duo sharing a significant moment of understanding. The former Colonel's next words were primarily addressed to the Captain.

"Let's take the fight to these 'Reapers'."

Author's Notes: If you're still with me now then I hope you liked this opening chapter, and I hope you enjoy what's yet to come. Please leave a review to let me know whether you like it, hate it, think I should go die in a fire, or just really like fudge. Expect future chapters to be of a comparable length to this one, and hopefully a bit more actiony.