This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction, bringing some more cyberpunk flair to the ME universe—cos face it, in ME, hacking is treated as more magical than even the biotics. The ME1 Citadel is still my favorite part of the whole series and I wanted to play around in it. Some existing, some original characters, intersecting with Shepard's adventures, with somewhat altered locations/events.

All comments and feedback are welcome, even if you absolutely hate it.

Chapter 1

The Red Lounge

"I think this is the place, Wrex". Harn pointed at the flickering holo sign above the door, casting a bright green halo over the downtrodden corridor and the junk that littered it. The bulky Krogan looked out of place, shifting uneasy on his feet.

Neither of them had been to the lower levels of Zakera Ward before. This part of the citadel was cramped, a maze of narrow passages and aging machinery, left untouched by the Keepers. The residents were mostly humans, and they weren't the good kind with credits either.

But the message he'd received earlier was too intriguing and direct to ignore. "I hear you're going after Fist. Come see me, The Red Lounge, Zakera C56. Ask for Joren at the bar."

Whoever sent it had gotten straight down to business and invited one of the baddest mercenaries this side of the traverse for a chat. He was either stupid or dangerous, and either way, Wrex knew it would be interesting. He'd brought along Harn for back up, in case someone had set him up for payback. Much to Wrex's annoyance, Harn was a loose cannon like most other Krogan, and not the most agreeable either. But he owed Wrex a favor and he wasn't a complete idiot.

Ducking to step through the doorway, Wrex let his eyes scan the room, peering through the shadows at the edges. The main bar stretched towards the back, where a staircase curved up towards an upper level. A dozen humans were scattered across small tables, talking in hushed tones, exhaling smoke into the already thick air. There was something about the insides of this place. It looked handcrafted and even artistic, but at the same time old and worn out. Scratched brass on aging wood, dust covered lights hanging low from the ceiling, casting a soft orange glow... Wrex didn't quite know what to make of it. Why would humans build a place like this on the Citadel?

What's more, the sight of two armed Krogans walking in should've turned heads. The fact that nobody seemed to notice spoke volumes. Underneath the quiet veneer, this little hide-away was just as crooked as some of the seediest bars on Omega.

"I'm looking for Joren", Wrex said as he walked up to the bar.

The bartender, a tough looking human female, looked the two mercs over skeptically before nodding towards the back. "He's upstairs."

The wooden boards of the stairs creaked with unease as the two massive mercs ascended. The smoke was thick here on the upper level, hard to see much except for a large table sitting brightly in the middle. It was oddly shaped, covered in red felt, with holes lining the edges. Colored balls were arranged on top. This was some kind of bar game? Not the kind a Krogan would play, Wrex thought.

And on the far side, sitting alone in a booth, was a single human hunched over a large drink, looking every bit the opposite of imposing.

Wrex chuckled. 'Stupid' it is then. Guess I don't need Harn after all.

"So, which one of you is Wrex?" the human offered as they approached.

Wrex studied the human. He found they were pretty transparent most of the time, but there was not much to read on this one's face. He had no scars, no wrinkles and a clean appearance and didn't seem bothered by the imposing Krogan peering down at him, or the unexpected guest tagging along. Correction, Wrex noted, 'Young and Stupid'.

"I am." he finally let out, letting his pride show.

"Have a seat. I'm Joren.", the human gestured.

Suspicious, Wrex shuffled in, his bulky armor barely fitting in the booth. Harn stood back, leaning into the game table, and waited for Wrex's inevitable charm to descend upon the little human.

"So, Joren." he said, drawing out the syllables. "Let's talk about Fist." He leaned into the table with a grin, bringing the full might of the Krogan into the conversation.

"Straight to the point. I see we have that in common. Very well." Joren replied with a simple nod.

"I'm an information and tech specialist, I do the odd job here and there. Fist recently hired my services to help him track and intercept a shipment of Batarian weapon mods. Which is easy enough, if you know your way around Citadel shipping and navigation nets." he said with a flourish. "But his goons botched the pick up, and he wanted to make sure no evidence pointed back to him. And that included taking me out."

Wrex had heard enough. "And now you're hiding down here, hoping I take out Fist before he kills you." He tilted his head and stared the human right in the eyes. He'd had this conversation a dozen times before.

"But maybe I'm not in a rush." Wrex mused. "Maybe I'll just wait for a while before killing Fist, let him take care of his own business first. Unless you want to offer me some motivation to hurry up. With your line of work, I'm sure you have some spare credits sitting around."

Harn grinned as he shifted his pose. Wrex was always entertaining to watch in his element, on or off the battlefield.

But the human straightened up and stared right back. "Or maybe I don't need to hide. Maybe while I was hacking the Citadel nets, I broke into Fist's systems too and installed a covert VI right in his mainframe. Maybe I changed his correspondence to make his kill order disappear, and made him think the job was done, taking the heat off. But you're right, I do have spare credits lying around, seeing as I ferried the would-be killer's fee into my own accounts."

Wrex perked up, narrowing his eyes. The human had brains and a quad after all... that was unexpected. He knew a lot more than he was letting on.

The man continued. "The thing is, Wrex, I don't care if Fist dies, he'll get what's coming to him eventually. But you do. I can get you access codes to his compound. I can hack his security systems. I can fake an emergency to clear out the place. That should make your job much easier."

"My job?" Wrex grumbled.

"To get me inside Fist's office. There's an item in his personal safe that I want to retrieve. And if he happens to die in the process, well, who am I to complain?" Joren added sardonically.

Wrex smiled at the human's refreshing take on things. Perhaps they had something in common after all. He had clearly thought this through. "What exactly is this … item … you're looking to pick up?"

"I found mention of it in Fist's logs. It's some kind of covert infiltration module, highly secure. But without access codes, or someone who knows how to circumvent them, it's nothing but a paper weight. So far he's just been sitting on it. I'm sure I could put it to better use, if I can get my hands on it."

Wrex had been on tech runs before, and having a tech specialist on his side did always make things easier. Either way, he wasn't exactly going to storm the place solo, he wasn't that stupid.

There was just one thing left to address. "As nice as this all sounds, I don't want a fragile human along for the ride when I go after Fist. They tend to slow me down when shot at", he countered grimly.

Undeterred, Joren played his hand, quite literally. Casually he raised his finger, suddenly glowing a vibrant blue, the air around it rippling with biotic energy. The glass in front of him gently lifted up and slowly turned upside down. The liquid inside seemed entirely unbothered by this.

Levitation by itself wasn't that hard, but as a fellow biotic, Wrex knew the control and precision required to keep the contents from flying all over the place. Impressive.

Joren finished his little demonstration, depositing the glass neatly. "Us human biotics are rare and most of us are untrained, but I've picked up a few things over the years. I can hold my own and I'm not too bad with a pistol either. But if that doesn't convince you, I can throw in some top of the line Batarian mods to sweeten the deal too."

Wrex saw where this was headed, but he played along. "I thought you just said Fist's goons botched the job."

"They did. All the crates reached their intended destination." Joren explained. "Except for one, which mysteriously vanished off the shipping manifest. That same day, the port's auto-loader found a lost crate belonging to a sealed shipment of pet food, destined for the Citadel. Which then disappeared on arrival at Zakera Ward and was written off as a minor loss." Joren deadpanned.

Wrex erupted into a hearty laugh, turning to his fellow Krogan to catch his reaction. But Harn was most definitely not amused, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight. Here was a biotic hacker who stole weapon mods from under the Batarian's ugly noses and now wanted to pal around with mercs. And the guy was smug about it too.

Harn stepped forward and leaned over too casually. "You've got this all figured out, don't you. Tell me human, do you always get what you want?"

"Most of the time", Joren quipped, feigning blissful ignorance.

And in between the pleasantries, the threat loomed invisibly in the air, thicker than the smoke billowing in from below.