In the year 2186, the Galaxy found itself invaded by a force called the "Reapers",

A race of hyper-advanced synthetic intelligences dedicated to wiping out organic life

In an extinction cycle that has lasted for longer than any could guess

There is only one hope, and even he might not be able to save them all.

In 2185, the Andromeda Initiative was delayed because Ark 5, the Keelah Si'yah, experienced technical difficulties.
It was declared against better judgment to allow it to make the journey alone later.
Months later, the Turian Pathfinder team were all killed while doing a routine training stop, catastrophic shuttle failure to blame.

Now, hidden away, the Arks and the Nexus remain as the Last Plan, if the war cannot be won. They are the only lifeboats.

Andromeda is the only safe shore.
And as tensions about Rannoch came to a head, it became clear that the Reapers had a contingency plan as well...

Nexus: Day 2

Tali sucked in air, and initial bolt of panic zapping through her.

"Keelah..." she breathed as the pain of ice gradually relaxed it's grip on her, and breathing became easier. Her breath fogged on the inside of her mask as her suit's systems all gradually came back online. The inside of the cryo pod was dark, but she could hear movement on the other side; someone pressing buttons, initiating the subroutines that would open the door and let her out.

Tali thought she might cry.

After... after It destroyed the Fleet... she'd wanted to die. It had taken Garrus, an unlikely friend, and the timely arrival of the few survivors(Kal'Reegar among them, by some chance of lucky fate) to convince her there were more things to live for yet.

Keelah, Garrus. Just the thought of him made her want to bust herself out of this pod and demand to know if the Natanus had docked yet. I have to tell him. Traveling to another galaxy, after watching your entire species get wiped out, your Commander(and crush) dead with them, and recovering from the subsequent suicidal behavior caused by the trauma, had a funny way of revealing just who was important to you the most.

Of reminding you, of all the things you'd forgotten to do, and that there might not be a chance to do them later. She... wasn't sure when she fell for her best turian friend. Maybe the fact he'd been her rock... after, had something to do with it. Opened her eyes to the fact that, for all that Shepard was her secret heartthrob, it was always Garrus she went to.

Writing letters for the team she'd lost on Haestrom. She'd asked him for help.

He'd been there for her trial. When she was exiled.

When she'd tried to open up to Shepard about her feelings, only to be rebuffed, it was Garrus who managed to coax the reason for her melancholy out of her.

And for all he'd helped her, she'd been all but useless to calm the emotional storm that occurred after he killed Sidonis.

When she spoke to Shepard, expressed all her fears about being an admiral, the Commander had seemed... nonplussed. Unconcerned. Disconnected from crisis she was experiencing. But Garrus, caught suddenly in the role of 'Reaper Adviser' had sympathized. Maybe that was where it started.

Shepard had been on top of the world. Handsome. The Lion of Elysium. Sure, he could be... morally dubious at times, but she'd usually overlooked that, seeing more of those previous qualities than the man he actually was. In short; she basically been a bit of a school girl with a silly crush.

But she was a woman now, and after the Collector Mission, she'd grown wiser. The schoolgirl crush diminished, and when she saw Shepard next, she been able to look him in the eye without blushing beneath her mask. In comparison...

Garrus was a lowly thing. Mangled and scarred inside and out, as much by loss as by unfortunate rocket fire. Archangel, the most feared-and dead, as far as anyone else knew-vigilante in the Terminus Systems. He'd been a total, rash and headstrong bosh'tet when she first met him, but by the time they saw each other again during the war, life, grief, trial and error had made a deadly, considerate, witty-but-nicer-than-before man out of him.

They'd both grown since Saren, she supposed. With Shepard, she'd been infatuated with the legend behind the name; the face of a person. But with Garrus... she'd finally noticed the person behind the face.

And dammit, like a coward, she hadn't told him before they left. She blinked as tears began to well up in her eyes. They'd been fleeing the end of the galaxy, and she'd hadn't had the guts to say three simple words, to reveal one simple feeling.

The door hissed open. She felt a smile crack her face despite the tears slowly running down her cheeks. At least she still had her 'unlikely friend' to keep her company, despite it all.

"Creator Zorah." Legion extended a hand, and helped her into sitting position. "Welcome to Andromeda."

Ark Hyperion: Day 421

It wasn't like last time. This time, he woke before the pod was opened, resulting in the initial thought that he might be trapped inside; a fear that was quickly assuaged.

Primitives have stupid stasis pod designs. Was all Javik decided to think.

But he was secretly relieved to take his first breath of free, not-stuffy cryo pod air to the sound of the Williams human complaining about a headache. For a few moments he just... looked around.

They'd made it. These crazy primitives had actually made it. He'd made it! Again, none the less. He'd survived idiotic notions of survival by freezing twice now! But this time, he hadn't woken up alone, nor to the unfamiliar faces of species he couldn't have cared less about.

Alright, fine; he still couldn't care less about them. But at least he didn't have to start over. The Normandy crew were used to him, he didn't want to go through the motions with a new set of primitives.

These creatures have succeeded where my own people could not. Grant it, his superiors hadn't been insane enough to think about moving to another galaxy.

They also hadn't been spurred on by a giant Reaper that could blow up stars and subsequently eliminate entire civilizations in the blink of an eye.

Javik shook his head, casting away the thought about It, but still retaining some bitterness. The primitives had succeeded where his people could not. Not for the first time, he found himself questioning the wisdom of that 'great empire' that he'd served, that he'd been expected to bring about again. The logic of the old cycle didn't work as well in the new; he'd been proven that more times than he cared to count. If his people had been smarter, they might have survived.

He might not have wound up alone in unfamiliar territory, if they'd been more careful with their plan. They'd rushed things; he knew that now. There had been no back-ups for the wake-up timers. Their position had been known and breached by the Reapers. Everything had gone wrong.

Wasn't there a term for that in this cycle? 'FUBAR', he thought it was.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" He turned his head at the sound of the 'Vega' human's voice. He was standing at the entrance to the cryo block, a mug in his hand and looking disheveled. He spread his arms wide "Welcome to Andromeda!"

And that was when an explosion rocked the ship.

Habitat 2: Day 329

Garrus woke with a gasp. Ice still ripped his bones, but even as he gulped in stale air, the clutches of cryostasis quickly continued to release him. The first thing he noticed, was that this was wrong. His pod was still closed. As he regained feeling in his talons, he pressed his left hand against the door.

His whole arm tingled uncomfortably after the action. He vaguely recalled a conversation he'd had with Javik shortly before departing for the Natanus. Some sort of rhetorical question about 'tips on being an icicle'. The prothean had discouraged rapid movement immediately after thawing- probably something to do with his own reaction to waking up on Eden Prime 50,000 past the mission's target ETA.

But Garrus' pod was still sealed, and when he banged on the door, there was no response from the other side. And the gravity was wrong... he was laying on his side. That couldn't be right. Had his pod been knocked over? Oh, why couldn't they have put windows on these things? A lot of problems he'd had could have been solved by the simple inclusion of windows to various pieces of architecture. Windows you could shoot out of and scope enemy positions with.

Seeking with his talons, he found the small compartment on the inside of the pod for personal effects. It was roughly 18 by 12 inches, and he'd only just managed to squeeze his Incisor rifle, folded and in pieces, in there, along with his visor and omnitool. There were probably rules against putting weapons in your pod, but he'd gone into this expecting things to go FUBAR. That was how things usually went when you were part of the Normandy crew.

He found his omnitool, and lit it up. He probably only had a small amount of oxygen in here. if there was, spirits forbid, no air on the other side of this door, he'd simply be trading a slow death for a quick, unconscious one. He angled his tool just right, and activated the omniblade, the heated, flash-forged edge searing right through the hinge of the cryo pod. A few more slices in other strategic positions, and Garrus Vakarian was free to shove the door right off his cryo pod...

To be blinded by sunlight, and blasted by heat. He covered his eyes, sitting up. The air was hot, but breathable. The temperature was incredibly high- high enough to kill a human or asari after prolonged exposure, but nothing a Palaven-born turian or a krogan couldn't handle.

He climbed out and stepped into shifting sand. There were other cryo pods scattered in the dunes all around him, several still on fire. He looked up, trying to make out the Natanus or signs of other ejecting pod blocks or life pods. They really weren't kidding when they said these could survive re-entry.

Or, at least the pods could. He'd survived... but as he went around checking, Garrus quickly discovered that none of the other had been as lucky. One had asphyxiated(they clearly hadn't had an omnitool with them, nor his near-paranoid foresight). Another's inertial dampeners had failed before hitting the ground, shattering the occupant's body. And so the list went on.

Shaking his head in sadness after discovering one was a child, Garrus made his way back up to his own pod, and collected the pieces of his Incisor. He'd managed to sneak one block of ammo, and three thermal clips in as well. When his gun was in one piece, loaded, and ready for use if he needed it, he sighed and looked up at the sun. It seemed to be sinking.

"Well, Garrus; welcome to Andromeda." He sighed.

After much consideration, I decided that, instead of permanently deleting my first Mass Effect fic, I should re-write it. As in total overhaul. This probably won't get a lot of attention, since my main focus is the Out of Tricks verse and Losing Time, but I thought I might just get it set up and have it ready in case the urge to continue it strikes me even more.

Hope the set-up caught your attention! The 'big bad giant Reaper' is basically going to wind up being my solution for the Dark Matter subplot, and why they're running away, just to clarify.

Chapter Recap: I killed Renegade Shep just for kicks, stranded Garrus in the desert, and saved Legion because why not.

Fare Thee Well!