The Powers That Be do exist it seems.

Sometimes they interfere directly with the otherwise insignificant lifeforms that make up the cosmos.

How can I say this? Well I'm being held four feet off the ground by a large spikey creature that I have never seen before.

"What the hell is this thing? It's not like any mech I've ever seen."

"Who knows? Everyone was fighting over the crate it was in. No sign of any external damage from the explosion."

/Turian/

Or so says something from my head. Not really sure what that is but give me time and I'll figure it out.

I always do.

After I stop feeling like I've got the flu. My head is spinning and I feel like my body is full of lead. My brain is also doing a good job of metaphorically spilling out of my ears.

I used to believe that the existence of honey was proof that god existed. After all, how else could something so useful and healthy come into existence. Seriously the stuff is great. It's delicious, full of nutrition, antibacterial and a great medical dressing. Not to mention it has an insanely long shelf life.

Damn, I should've used that argument for my public speaking class. That would've made for a nice long speech.

Wait. No. Focus.

I say that because being suspended in the air by a turian would normally raised a few eyebrows. Or a million.

But it doesn't.

Why?

Because I'm about the size of a lapdog and this place is full of them.

How did I end up in this situation? Hell if I know.

The last thing I remember is changing the water for my fish tank. Then I blink and I'm being snatched up and interrogated by a turian.

Urgh. Suspension does not reduce nausea.

"This thing doesn't match anything in our databases, nothing on the market anyway."

Their voices are kind of gravelly and their words are strange. It's like they have two tones or something like that. I can't see the other one that I'm hearing. But the one holding me has these really neat marks on its face. Kind of like a blue circuit stripe running across the nose. I wonder if it means anything?

/Clan markings/

See, there it is again. Somehow I know things. I don't know how I know these things, but I do. I hate when that happens. It's really creepy. It's usually wrong too. I don't want to think about it too much.

It hurts my head.

"Standard procedure is to send it to the lab back at headquarters. Try to see if there are more of them."

"The lab better not take too long with this. I wonder they were fighting so hard to get to it."

Then the other voice disappeared. Not sure how I know that either, but my guess is that I was listening to a telephone conversation of some sort.

The turian shoved me under his blue armored armpit as he combed through the area again with renewed vigor.

Looking for clues I guess.

I think it might have something to do with the fact that the area was once a warehouse and was currently a pile of burnt scrap. Maybe he was looking for the one who blew it up or perhaps he was looking for information that may have been left behind. Aside from me anyway.

How do I know this anyway?

Well, you'd think being stuck in someone's armored armpit would hurt and you'd be right. That is, if you were made of flesh.

It didn't hurt me because I'm not all soft and squishy anymore. I'm made of metal. It's kind of how I found out.

I'm really trying not to think about it too much.

I don't really feel much of anything. I guess that means I still have nerves so that's good. Right? The armor pressing against me is less like being jabbed by a bad cosplay and more like the memory of being jabbed by a bad cosplay. What else can't I feel? I wonder.

It's not bothering me. It is definitely NOT bothering me. Even if it was, now isn't the time to go over it.

I don't want to think about it.

I turn my attention back to the guy holding me. Watching him pick through the wreckage.

He's picking through every little nook and cranny, even the under the piles of soot. Maybe it's a turian thing? To pay such close attention to details. I can't imagine being able to do that. I could never focus on anything for long periods of time. Except when I could, then I would ignore everything else.

That's ADD for you I guess.

It's easier to watch him run everything through his glowing arm thing-

/Omnitool/

-Even if it isn't anything interesting. Even if it's making me feel worse. Must be the light or something. It's kind of obnoxious and it makes me feel like I'm strapped in a dental chair and the doctor is picking at a cavity.

Putting it like that isn't helping either.

Alas, the sudden change in circumstances, body, and health prove too much for me and I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness.

Staying awake is too much effort and while I could probably make it happen I don't really want to. I must've fallen asleep watching a movie or something, if I'm dreaming of aliens and explosives.

"Vakarian! I don't care how valuable the mech from SynTell was. It was not worth it to blow up the facility to stop a bunch of mercs!"

"Sir! I got the leader-"

"Do you have any idea how much damage you caused! One bounty is Not worth millions in damage!"

"Yes sir."

"I should fire you. You are a loose cannon and you have repeatedly shown a disregard for regulations. But since this last raid wasn't a total loss consider yourself lucky."

"Yes sir."

"You're on guard duty."

The younger turian opened his mouth to protest, but abandoned the act and bowed his head in submission. "Yes sir."

I sleep in funny positions and I kick at night. At least, I know some of my friends have told me as much. Something about kicking the walls and waking them up during sleepovers. It's why I'm usually at least semi aware of where my arms and legs are when I'm sleeping. This awareness is also how I realized that I should probably get my legs and arms out from underneath me before I wake up all stiff and sore in the morning.

So I twisted from beneath the blanket, onto my side. Or rather, at least I tried.

I seem to be stuck on something.

It takes some effort but I sit up and squint at the room.

This time it was a bunch of amphibians running about and waving their omnitools at me. Wow, dream within a dream. Didn't know that stuff actually happened outside of really badly written movies.

I blinked blearily at them trying to make sense of what's going on. On one hand, I don't feel sick to my stomach anymore. On the other hand, I have one nasty case of tinnitus. I hate when that happens. It's always when I'm trying to listen for something important. I hate waking up within another dream.

It makes my head hurt.

The waving lights aren't helping my headache. Ugh. It looks like orange is just as obnoxious in my dreams as it is in real life.

Also "Will you cut that out? I hate orange and I'm trying to sleep." I barked at the one waving right in front of my face.

It blinked in surprise before abruptly shutting off the light.

"Thanks." Then I closed my eyes again.

"I've extracted as much as I can before the security system shut me out. I'm decrypting it now." Said the the lab tech. Sepin Zisal, age thirteen, was a recent addition to C-sec. He had come highly recommended for his skill in tech. Garrus liked him, he worked fast, wasn't a stickler for rules and had always got straight to the point. "Sadly, 95 percent of the data I retrieved is either corrupted, encrypted, or buried in in junk data. I might not be able to get much more than fragments."

"Anything is better than nothing I suppose." Sighed Garrus. "So what are they? Synthetic or organic?"

"Neither actually. They have a partially organic nervous system. You are looking at the first known Biosynthetic creations. You made a good call bringing them back."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Hard to tell. I can't get any information on armaments or attack programs. Some of them have claws and other cutting implements but they seem to be purely utilitarian. They do have setae on their legs though, so they might escape through the windows or air vents." Answered the salarian as he tapped out something on his onmitool. "I can't get a good read on the personalities. Most of them seem to sentient to a degree. The one you brought in personally actually reactivated itself during the examination.

"That doesn't sound good. Did anyone get hurt?"

"Not at all. It only broke the maximum grade restraints we used to secure it, and demanded that I shut off my omnitool because it didn't like the color and it wanted to sleep." Chuckled the salarian.

Garrus blinked in surprise. That wasn't something he expected of a mech. He half expected it to go berserk and attack everyone or at the very least, hack the onmitool. "...Really?"

"Yes. Then it flopped over on its side again and became inactive. Unfortunately it was the only one with such a reaction. I have had it placed in a separate area for observation. The other biosynthetics you brought back became erratic shortly after they were activated."

Garrus gestured for Sepin to elaborate.

The salarian rolled his eyes and continued ."Howling, screeching, screaming, uncontrolled thrashing, attempts at self harm. Signs that match up with hysteria or psychosis in most sentient species. The less erratic ones were more animalistic. Like varren, canines, felines, and other semi domesticated animals. I recommend armor and protective ear pieces when dealing with them."

"That explains the noise from downstairs." The turian slunk into his office and began filling out the necessary paperwork. The raid had been a success but the resulting paperwork would keep him trapped in the office for days. Not to mention he was stuck with guard duty for the foreseeable future. "I'm going to need a drink dealing with these."

"Indeed. Drink after they become inactive or else some of them might try and drink with you." Replied Sepin.

The two of them worked in companionable silence until the salarian made a discovery. "Garrus come here. I found some audio journal entries from the talking mech!"

Garrus jumped out of his seat, happy for a chance to stretch his legs and rushed over.

Sepin glanced at him in amusement then began playing the entries.

'- is functioning as a proof of concept. Unit one is stable. We will be going forward with this model for all future tests.'

'- Tests show that keeping the structure close to the organic form will minimize stress and malfunction. Certain instincts can't be erased no matter what method we use. - unethical. It's our responsibility to care for them. We will be moving on to-'

'Damn it! Damn it all! They stole it right out from under us! I will not lose to the likes of Harper and Lawson! Tomorrow we begin the new stage-'

'-are not doing that! It's creepy as fuck! We're sticking to the quadrupedal form! Period!'

'- has resulted in the breakdown and subsequent malfunctioning of all the test subjects. We will not be using this in the future. Put it with the rest for study.'

'Subject C455 has activated sucessfully.'

'- are all showing signs of sentience.'

'Citadel law bans the creation of A.I. There is nothing about Biosynthetics.'

'The integration has failed. Subject C455 has gone berserk. Setting off self destruct program now.'

'For the sake of their mental health, organic sensations must be replicated as closely as possible. Extraneous functions are secondary to that.'

'Sensory perceptions are accurate. Dietary needs minimal. Leftovers are converted and dehydrated into incomplete nutrient pill.- says it's better then rations.'

'Several of my co workers have lost their hearing with the activation of Subject C509, we will-'

'-Made a move on my son. I'm running out of time. This next unit will be his bodyguard and watcher. It will grow with him where I cannot. It will succeed where I have failed. It will-'

'-not enough- too- crushed skull. Dr. Sa- couldn't be saved.'

'I have high hopes for this one. The integration was successful.'

'I will burn in hell for what I have done. Subject - shows signs of recall from prior death. - Have doomed it to a cruel and painful existence- all attempts at memory erasure have failed- becoming suspicious.'

'They took Torrence. I have failed as a father- give them- or-'

'I have destroyed my research or as much of it as I can. My son is dead. I pin my final hopes - are coming for me.'

The two of them looked at each other. The journal entries painted a rather morbid picture of the mechs. Correction, biosynthetics. One of them was obviously sentient and, from what he could pick out, aware of her organic origins on some level. What was he going to tell Pallin? What was he going to tell the counsel? They're sure to want access to them.

Garrus paced the room several times while he sorted through his thoughts. He needed to figure out what to do with them. Preferably in a way that won't end with him jobless, bankrupt, and crippled by the mechs.

He also had to hide it since the information was obviously valuable and thus the target of multiple corporations. Of course he could use them as bait to lure out the targets. That would have to wait though seeing as he's on probation.

One of the entries stated quite clearly that organic lives must be simulated or else they become erratic and dangerous. Which meant that he'd have to keep them in his office, or move his things to where they are being kept.

Sepin cut through his thoughts once more. "Brain signals indicate that the talking one is about to wake again. Would you like to meet it?"

AN:

I got writers block. It's really bad. So i figured that a writing prompt couldn't hurt.

Well, Guess who drew self insert and mass effect out of my prompt box. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this but now I have plot bunnies.

I got the robot idea from Poelinal-Whitestrake's A Woman and Her Wolf

Either way, enjoy the story and leave a comment.