Hey Bros! I love the Mass Effect Series almost as much as Dragon Age, and so I've decided to write a fanfiction for it! If I like it, I will keep going! Wish me luck bros! Also: Sheogorath's Madness will have a new chapter before Christmas, you have my word. And Sin'Nati will be updated again before New Years. So, without further ado, I give you: the Warrior Queen

Not everyone gets the reason I named my Mantis the Warrior Queen. A gunny name would be much more fitting, most would think. Bumper, or Badger, or MacDuff. Something tough and intimidating, not some ballerina title like Warrior Queen.

Of course, no one expects a C7 marine pilot to have a specialization in classical literature either. Oh, right, no one knows what C7 even is. C stands for contract work, outsourcing. The seven basically means that the higher ups are getting a lot of profit for my services to the suits at Guanghui Solutions.

But back to the point, the idea that a marine would have a penchant for classical earth literature, everything from T.S Elliot to Ayn Rand to Sylvia Plath to Dostoevsky would scream schizophrenic. Still, with a suitcase full of books, I had left my bawling parents on Elysium to head to the Jon Grissom Academy, and from there I traveled to Arcturus to become a competent Mantis Gunship pilot.

It was a bit of a surprise, really, when Binary Helix had arrived on the station to look over the newest batch of G.I's. Still, we had stood straight with our uniforms pressed, ready to impress the company that our superiors told us was a vital provider for the military. Of course, we'd all had the genetic therapy by then, and the few biotics had been given free implants. We didn't need some Admiral's rubber stamp to tell us it was a big deal.

Even so, everyone was surprised when they started picking people out of the line. When the suit-and-tie looked at me, I stepped forward without question, though I was more than a little worried as to why I was being dragged away from the men and women I had come to know as friends.

Those of us called out, and it couldn't have been more than eleven out of the hundred-or-so graduates, were funneled into a briefing room, where we were surrounded by more suits, projections of technology, and big-ass company logos. Guanghui Solutions, Sonax Industries, Binary Helix, ExoGeni, the names seemed to jump off the walls at us.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the head honcho had called to us, implying we were all equals. Yeah, and my annual salary may have just passed what he made in an hour. "You have all been given an opportunity to serve humanity. That is the purpose of your training thus far. I am here to offer you a… different sort of opportunity."

We had all glanced at each other and said nothing. We all wanted to hear more, were eager to hear more. "Your military provides great security to the expansion of the human race. It must: or else we will fall victim to those who would see us crumble. However, this is not humanity's only lone of defense."

We all glanced at one another, perplexed. The suit continued. "Humanity's greatest resource is its ingenuity, its will to think outside the box. With this, we will prove we are a match for any other civilization, as surely as any war or battle can. These great corporations you see," he continued, gesturing to the logos attached to the walls around the room, "all wish to see humanity rise in power just as much as you marines do. However, as I said, there is more than one way this is accomplished." Understanding started to dawn among us, and we waited silently to hear what part we would play in this "other way".

The man continued with his speech, "As I said, our corporations are working to harness humanity's ingenuity, to channel it into our intragalactic economy, to see it grow, strengthen, and match that of the Turians, the Salarians, and even the Asari. To this end, we've made a special deal with the Alliance military."

The suit made eye contact with each of the marines in the room. When our eyes met, I didn't see any lie in his face. But I still wanted to know what was going on. "We have made past agreements, sure. Your genetic recoding is proof enough of that. But this is something… extra." He smiled. "We've looked at the test scores among all of the new graduates at Arcturus, and the people sitting in this room, are, without doubt, some of the best that this galaxy has to offer. As such, we're here today to offer you new placement."

From there, each individual suit standing about in the room had come forward and handed us a large portfolio with our information on them. Flight scores, training reports, psych evaluations, the whole ten yards. My name was at the top of my dossier, along with sterling recommendations from all of the above. I flipped through the pile of papers, which went into greater detail about what my qualifications were. A glance told me everyone else was doing the same thing.

"Shows calmness under fire… pilots a Mantis like it was built for him," that raised an eyebrow. I was sure that instructor hated me. "Psychological evaluation shows that subject #503095 has no xenophobic tendencies, and is equally suited to working in deep space, as well as on terra firma."

At the end of all the papers had been a much smaller pamphlet, with my name stamped on it, beneath a Guanghui Solutions logo. Inside was a datapad, as well as a paper that needed a signature. My signature. "We realize this all may be a bit hard to swallow. Please, take the day to think it over, and a representative will be by your quarters later to receive and answer." With that, the suits left, and we were excused.

I want to say there was some struggle in my head over honor or morality or something. There wasn't. The datapad told me what was expected: I become a class C marine and work directly for the corporate armed forces, and in exchange the Alliance gets a big bonus. I get a higher life expectancy, less restrictive leave, more pay, and still get to kick ass for humans. I was sold at higher life expectancy, but the bonus was on the last disk.

I, specifically, was going to become a flight instructor. There weren't enough savvy pilots apparently, so I was going to beef up the numbers as well as being on active duty. Double the pay, and my own private quarters. When the representative had arrived, my application was signed and my bags were packed.

That was in 2184. The last two years have been, well, exciting, to say the least. Besides getting to see my parents on Elysium every few months or so, the private room is nice, especially when it's on a starship. Piloting the Warrior Queen around eight or nine planets, blasting slavers and wildlife and pirates never really gets old either. But the most fun is reserved for the training. Nothing beats seeing your recruits finally get a maneuver correctly, or get above 80% accuracy on the simulators. It's nice to know they look up to me, especially when they have to cover me in a firefight.

But still, even after the training I've given them, they all give me a hard time about the Warrior Queen. They don't understand the symbolism. I've explained it dozens of times, but no one seems to get it! It's a Mantis gunship! Mantis, praying mantis, warrior, female, warrior queen! They chew the heads off their husbands for God's sake!

Fawkes sighed as he replaced the letter on his desk, then leaned back and ran a finger through his unkempt brown hair. "Ashley can wait," he mused, standing up and pushing his chair back into the desk. Fawkes ducked underneath the top of his doorway as he stepped in to the hall of the starship. It was a tight fit for him, tall as he was, since ships had to have an economy of size. He planned to stretch once they got groundside.

Clicking his tongue as he went, Fawkes strode through the halls to the CIC of the ship. His briefing told him that they would be reaching their destination very soon. Garvug, if he remembered correctly. He hadn't enjoyed learning that bit of information: he hated operating in the Terminus Systems. Still, the itinerary had got his attention. This was more than just a clearing run to wipe the odd gang off the map.

Fawkes' ice blue eyes flashed as he went through the lowdown again in his mind. They were rare now, blue eyes. He knew there was going to be a coup de tat that was supposed to replace the Wrund Clan, which ran the planet, with a pro-corporation regime that would allow corporation access. Guanghui Solutions wanted access to the ecosystem, to preserve the balance of nature for the unique life found this rock.

His job was supposed to be security, he remembered. Just be present to make sure a riot doesn't break out, or some Vorcha pack doesn't assault a commando team who wants into a building. He would be leading one of five gunship squadrons into Dhazil, the planetary capital of Garvug.

His thoughts were interrupted as he reached the CIC. He stepped through the double doors and into the only viewing station on the cruiser, the GSV Eclipse. He was joined by the captain of the ship, in his uniform, and the XO, in his full combat gear. Outside sat their destination, Garvug. They were ahead of schedule.

"What's the plan?" Fawkes asked the captain. The captain, an older man with an African complexion, swiveled back into his chair and looked at the fleet charts. "We're one of three corporation ships in the Paz system. The other is the ISV Excelsior, and the BSV Coral Reef. The coalition regs state we're to defer to the CO on the Excelsior for orders." Well, at least there's a chain of command, Fawkes mused silently.

Garvug seemed to be warning against any intrusion. Mountains and ice covered most of the planet, except for a narrow strip along the equator, where Dhazil was located. It was supposed to be a life-supporting world, but typical krogan mismanagement ensured over farming, pollution, and overfishing. Now, krogan and vorcha bands reigned in the wastes and cities, while corporations paid mercenaries to hold them off of some small enclaves.

Apparently, the corporations didn't like being pushed around by the hostile locals. Or hiring out for assistance. So, the Eclipse, Excelsior, and Coral Reef were in the Valhallan Threshold to give a spine to the new government in Dhazil. The captain basically affirmed this assumption with his next statement. "Status update from the ground says the coup is going to happen within the hour. We're going in to suppress riots and unrest. The chairmen want a clean transition."

"When do we deploy?" Fawkes asked, stepping up to look at the map of Dhazil himself. Most colonial cities grew around a central building, in this case the ancestral Wrund Clan fortress.

The captain turned to look at Fawkes. "Have your squadron assembled in the launch bay in three minutes. I'll have us in geosynchronous orbit over Dhazil by then. Get groundside and you'll be in the comm loop with spec ops on the ground." Fawkes nodded and turned on his heel, striding quickly towards the double doors of the CIC. He already had a prospective rally point from his brief view of the map.

Fawkes paced the hangar bay, suited up for atmospheric entry. The cockpits of the gunships were all airtight, but military training insisted on being ready for anything. Before him stood the rest of his squadron, nine of his gunship trainees that he had deemed ready for combat operations. The grim figures stood at attention, their own planetary entry suits strapped on as well. "So, we're headed to Garvug. From what I've heard, vorcha are probably harsher than krogan when it comes to war." Fawkes spoke clearly, his words reaching everyone. "So here's how this will go. Do as I say so you won't have to fight one head on. Now get to your ships and prepare for launch."

"Sir!" the assembled C.I's responded, before pairing off to head to their respective ships. Fawkes was joined by his co-pilot Tracy. He was dark-skinned and had close-cropped military-style hair. They were roughly the same height, though Tracy was significantly bigger, as he spent most of his time "training for the next big fight."

"Rousing speech as always sir," Tracy greeted him, as they headed to the Warrior Queen.

"Quiet," was the response as Fawkes slid into the pilot's seat. Tracy rolled his eyes and jumped into the back.

"So why do you call it the Warrior Queen anyways?" Tracy asked, much to Fawkes' annoyance. Tracy knew he hated the question, and never failed to ask before a combat sortie. Fawkes just gripped his controls all the tighter and signaled the rest of the ships to check in. Green lights all around told him the squadron was ready for combat.

"Raven One to bay doors, repeat, Raven One to bay doors, cockpits are sealed and we have green lights. Ready to head groundside, over."

A red light whirred to life, and a corresponding alarm sounded, warning everyone to get out before all the air left the room. After thirty seconds warning, the bay doors slid open, and the mass effect fields went up around the gunships as their cores came alive. The air roared out of the room, but the enclosed cockpits held enough air for them to get to the surface. "Everyone ready?" Fawkes asked over the comm. The affirmative responses sounded encouraging.

Delicately, Fawkes guided his gunship out of the hangar and into the blackness of space. In a few seconds, his ship's VI began warning him that the gravity of the planet was drawing them in, and they would soon pass the point of no return. "Program coordinates for Dhazil, set rally beacon at waypoint Echo; the open industrial park to the west of the fortress." The VI responded a few moments later that it had sent coordinates to the other four ships, and that the VIs would take over the miniscule changes in trajectory necessary for successful atmospheric entry.

Fawkes hit the comm button and contacted the CIC. "Raven One to command, we are at the away point."

"Rodger Raven One, the ground teams will see you on the surface."

Okay, simple enough, Fawkes thought. Get groundside, establish a rally point, and look terrifying. "All right Raven squadron, we're in radio silence until we get further instructions from the surface. Being your first actual atmosphere drop, please remember the basics. Your VI will do most of the work, let it. When you hit 30,000 feet, put on the reverse thrusters to decrease your speed. Do it right, and no one will notice you until you're right on top of them." With that, Fawkes shut off his comm and sat back in the pilot's chair.

Around the gunships, the air started to burn as they were pulled toward the planet. Fawkes and Tracy watched the planet get bigger and bigger in their windshield as they plummeted toward the ground. Fawkes was grateful for the mass effect field that blocked the g-forces from rupturing his stomach. "Hey Fawkes," Tracy said after a few minutes. "10,000 feet."

Fawkes chuckled. "Not today Tracy, we need to be professional."

Tracy was silent for another minute or so and then said "20,000."

"Deal," Fawkes agreed

The VI was micro-tuning their course, guiding them towards the small grey dot they both knew was Dhazil. The VI piped up again at 50,000 feet, then 40,000, then 35,000, then 30,000. The VI informed him that Raven Two, Raven Three, and Raven Five had begun to slow their descent, while Raven Four remained in freefall with them. Tracy sighed. "They'll beat us again."

Fawkes shrugged. "It's their risk to take." Free of the fires of the atmosphere, Tracy and Fawkes could make out the other gunship that was dropping with them. At 20,000 feet, Fawkes engaged his thrusters, and the other Mantis rocketed ahead of them. At what looked to be 15,000, they too finally engaged their thrusters and started to slow down. Fawkes breathed a sigh of relief. "Remind me why they're called the Heartbreaker again," he said.

Tracy shrugged. "Something to do with them being suicidal chicks, I guess."

The gunships continued to fall as Dhazil grew larger and larger in their sights. Fawkes began angling for the industrial park when he saw it, and noticed Raven Four doing the same. "Hey Tracy, now would be a good time to fire the signal beacon."

"Oh, right," was the reply, and hurriedly Tracy tapped on his console to bring up the necessary weapon system. "Aiming… just a moment… okay, we're in business." Though he didn't see it, Fawkes knew what had happened. A thin tube the size of a thumbtack had been shot out of the gunship to land at the precise spot programmed into the VI's rally beacon. The tube contained a nano-nuclear battery that broadcast a signal on a frequency detectable only to the ships back in space. It was a pain in the ass to find for someone on the ground who wanted to get rid of it, and they were generally more concerned with what came after anyways. Granted, the beacon would die in a few days, so it was impractical for anything other than the opening stages of an invasion, but it was still useful in securing a landing zone.

Close to the ground now, Fawkes righted his ship and came to a full stop, hovering above several open industrial complexes, probably warehouses. A beep from the VI told him that someone was on the comm for him. "This is Raven One, go ahead."

"Raven One, confirm you are corporate relief force."

"Confirmation code: Ikrit." Fawkes responded, remembering the code from his briefing.

"Confirmation received, counter is Jundrag. This is codename Abel."

"Confirmed that this is spec ops. What's the situation Abel?"

"The coup is on schedule, and we're picking up your landing beacon now. We'd like you keep in that general area. Keep the landing zone clear for backup and report anything you see that's out of the ordinary. Abel out."

Fawkes looked at Tracy and shrugged. "Now we wait. Easy."

The afternoon light dimmed as shuttles brought in ground troops. They quickly secured one of the warehouses, evicting the irate workmen and setting up a command center. Orders continued to flow between Abel and the ground troops. For now, the corporate forces were to spread out around the western half of the city, where the industrial infrastructure was located. Raven squadron was to continue sweeping the skies of the surrounding blocks to give advance warning of any attack.

As the sky continued to grow darker, Fawkes requested permission to do a deep sweep of the city, "to scout a possible route toward the fortress." After a moment of deliberation, the commanders on the ground gave their assent. "Just you, though. We can't lose all of our gunships to a surprise attack."

Fawkes spun his craft and boosted over the buildings, following the main thoroughfare toward the fortress of Haliot Wrund. On approach, he noticed fires in the surrounding buildings, fleeing civilians, and what looked like a massive army marching through the streets. "Hey Tracy?" Fawkes asked.

"Yeah?"was the subdued response.

"You seeing this?"

"Yeah."

"Doesn't look like the coup worked."

"Yeah."

"They look pissed."

"Yeah."

"You should start shooting now."

"Yeah."

Hope you guys all enjoyed my work! I love Mass Effect like no other! Review Review Review I'm begging you! And be sure to check out my other stories as well, listed on my author's page!