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This was stupid.

Nah, it was worse than stupid, it was embarassing. Here he was; Axton the dashing, roguish Commando, defender of Pandora against the legions of hideous monsters, cold, unfeeling machines and insanity of Handsome "But not as handsome as Axton" Jack. And what was this stalwart defender of the weak, innocent, and particularly beautiful women doing at this moment? What possible adventures could the hero, this man among men, be up to now?

It involved sitting on his ass in a dank corner somewhere in the galaxy.

"Good going, Axton." the Commando chided himself, "You get to make first contact with the first aliens anyone's ever seen, and you ended up being tied up in the brig of their spaceship. Great."

Axton went over how he got here once more time, just to make sure that this wasn't a dream or something. A cool dream, yeah, but cool dreams don't get the ladies. It wasn't like he could do anything else with his hands encased in some weird, blob-thing. It was the aliens' version of a handcuff, to be sure.

Oh, sure, it was exciting to get here, no sweat. It involved two good-lookin' ladies with mystical powers! Who don't love that?

Alright, alright, there really wasn't that much of it that he had really been a part of. Maya had been getting some training from Lilith on using her Siren powers. The day's lesson was on teleportation. Now, Axton wasn't about to claim he understood how those powers worked, but he did at least get the impression that you had to concentrate a lot on what you were trying to do. He never did get around to asking Maya how they worked - Probably never will, now – but, the point was that Lilith had Maya trying to move things from point A to point B with her mystic, magical, weird-ass non-Eridium-infused powers.

It was at this point that the senior Siren thought Maya was ready for a human test.

Now as exciting as getting somewhere without a wait time might be to some people, fact was that it wasn't exactly heartening to be told in no uncertain terms that you're a lab rat; as expected, the waiting list for that position was shorter than a loot midget. So, Axton, naturally, put himself forward for the position to look better than his teammates – I mean, to extend a hand to the two lovely ladies in need. After all, he had complete confidence in Maya, of course, so there was nothing to worry about, right?

Wrong.

So apparently she hadn't gotten everything down at "Being a Siren 101". Now, to give her some credit, Axton was sure that trying to teleport a person without killing them would be a very commendable feat of skill, but he couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed by not showing up ten feet away from where he was before. No, no, he understood, it was totally cool, yeah.

Still a little disappointed, just sayin'.

He did go somewhere, not to say he didn't; he just didn't end up where they told him they would be. Instead of going from the balcony of the house the Vault Hunters shared in Sanctuary to the ground below, he went to… some dark, cramped place. Joy. After a few moments of realization that he was in a supply closet, he stumbled out of a door that yielded to a fumbling gesture of a handprint to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Apparently his arrival had not gone unnoticed. Now, at this point Axton's Dahl military training should have taken over, telling him the best way to disarm the enemy from an unarmed stance. It should have given him the indications on whether the enemy was angry, scared, or confused, and if violence was inevitable. It should have done this, but it didn't.

Because at the other end of the gun was an honest-to-god, no-foolin', I-ain't-kiddin'-you-believe-me alien.

Axton was understandably caught off guard.

"What the hell!?"

The alien's retort, if it could be called one, was some combination a bunch of clicks and hisses in rapid succession. Axton, being of sound mind and body, completely and unabatedly was not paying attention and followed up on his earlier interjection with:

"Holy crap, an alien!"

The alien repeated itself with a different combination of clicks and hisses. Axton took a wild guess that it was saying something in its own language. Alright, alright, play it cool, Axton. Meeting an alien, yeah, you've done tougher stuff. So, uh, first contact, right. Think, think! Um, first step in an unfamiliar environment is to… greet the locals?

"H-Hello! My name is Axton, and I am a Human!" the Commando said after a moment's hesitation. The gun didn't move, so Axton took a moment to get a proper look at the alien. Normally, he would be more confident in his movements, what with murdering a large chunk of Pandora's bandit population setting a bit of an example of what he could do; that, and being the generally all-around awesome guy that he is. However, Axton wasn't about to take a chance with a gun that he knew nothing about. It looked short, like a pistol, but for all he knew it could shoot laser beams, or maybe it could completely ignore shields like Handsome Jack's pistol, or something even worse! Play the diplomat now, take the wound to gut preferably never. As for the alien, it was a tall, lanky thing, with a long, thin face that was dominated by a set of large, black eyes. The thing had horns on the top of its head, with a skin tone that reminded him of a lizard of some kind. Axton's observation was interrupted by the alien speaking again, but this time it spoke in a manner that for some reason made him feel like he was being made fun of.

"Listen, buddy, I don't know who you think you are, but I got no idea what's going on here. If you can understand me, which I doubt, can you please point to something that speaks human? Or something, I don't know, some kinda translator or something? Aliens always have something like that, right?"

The alien responded to his request by hissing into a tool of some kind on its arm, still keeping its weapon pointed at Axton. Shortly after, a second alien showed up holding the weird blob-shaped handcuffs. As one can presumably guess, the action that followed was Axton unceremoniously getting handcuffed, shoved back into the supply closet and locked into the room.

And this, friends, is what brought our hero, Axton the Commando, to sit on his ass in a dank corner somewhere in the galaxy.

Just great.

Axton's self-loathing monologue was cut short by a small jarring motion of the room. Without a moment to contemplate, the door slid open to reveal the alien with the gun. This time, it wasn't pointing the weapon at him, as it sat holstered in the alien's belt. The alien spoke again to him, in a few short clicks. When Axton stared dumbfounded back at the alien, it shook its head and made a "come hither" motion with its free hand. They got three fingers. Huh. If he's telling me to follow, that's a surprisingly… human… gesture. Axton took a few tentative moments to stand up, partly out of not wanting to piss off the thing with the gun, partly out of difficulty of standing up with his hands behind his back. When he was standing at full height, the alien stood to the side as if to allow him to pass. Evidently the thing wanted Axton to leave the room. Alright, let's just see where this goes. It's been a while since anything I met was not interested in killing me, but if things go sour I'll have to make a break for it. No sweat…

Axton carefully stepped out of the door of the supply closet / impromptu brig and took a look around. He was in a passageway of some sort, with a feeling of crampedness. Wherever he was, the builders either loved to economize or they were forced to build really small. He didn't get much more of a chance to think about it as the alien prodded him to move down the hall. The Commando passed by a few more doors identical to the one he had emerged from, and then was stopped at the one door that looked different from the rest. Having been with the Dahl military for ten years, Axton knew what he was looking at: the portside hatch. He was being told to get off the ship. Whether or not the ship was currently docked somewhere was something that he didn't know.

"Uh, buddy, you want me to leave? I just got here!"

His protest went unheeded as the alien opened the outer bulkhead. A small sigh of relief escaped Axton; the thing wasn't trying to space him, at least. The sigh quickly cut off as he saw what was outside the door.

He was in a space station. Currently, he was in a port on the space station. He was able to surmise that fact from all the various spaceships that were docked in front of him, the multitude of cargo containers to his right, and the massive blue plasma-y force wall that was keeping out the cold, empty vacuum of space on his left. The fact itself wasn't anything too surprising, he'd been on many space stations before; however, those space stations didn't have a zoo's worth of aliens walking around in them. Axton's eyes boggled at the sight: some more of those tall aliens could be seen, but there were others! Some kinda things that had a face like a bird walking on two feet, short little metal things waddling around, and a… a… No. It couldn't be. The wishes of countless nerds couldn't possibly be true. But it was.

Blue alien space babes.

Awesome.

"Nevermind, see ya, gotta go meet a guy about a thing," came Axton's hurried recant. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Of course, had he been paying attention he would have seen the two bird-aliens standing in front of him. Both of them were wearing some kind of armor suit with the same markings; it was obvious that these ones were special, or in the same group at least. One of them started to squawk something to the lizard alien behind him, with the lizard alien responding back in its own hisses and clicks. Yanked out of his pleasant daydream, Axton was left standing between the three, wondering exactly was being said. Apparently these guys can talk to each other just fine, the man thought to himself. That, along with other thoughts such as Goddamn it Maya, what did you get me into and I really wish I wasn't handcuffed right now 'cause my nose itches real bad. After about a minute of playing the 'leave the human in the dark' game, Axton piped up with: "Ya know, I kinda wish I knew what you guys were saying." Apparently his babble wasn't being as ignored as he thought it was, since it caused the talking bird-alien to immediately stop squawking. "Wait, damn, can you guys understand me?" The previously unspeaking bird-alien gave him a nod, which simultaneously answered his question and gave him the new query of how the hell an alien knew how to nod.

Resuming their conversation and following a few more squawks, clicks, and hisses, it seemed like the aliens had reached the end of their conversation. Both of the bird-aliens, which Axton started to refer to as "Squawky" and "Quiety", motioned for him to walk between each other. Apparently they were going to lead him somewhere; Axton didn't miss the sight of weapons similar to that of the lizard alien in their holsters, so no doubt that this wasn't a request. "Alright, alright, I get it, you guys are taking me somewhere. Lead on, bird-man!"

Also apparently, they don't like getting called 'bird-man', because the shove in the back Axton received gave off a slight, ever-so-tiny indication that Squawky and Quiety were pissed off. Ow. Whoops. Note to self, don't call them that.

After a few tense minutes of getting led deeper into the station and receiving quick glances from everything and anything that had a pair of eyes or some sort of visual sense, Axton was shown to some sort of corner office building. When he stepped inside, he could see more aliens wearing armor with similar markings to his captors. Most of them were more bird-aliens, but he saw a few lizard-aliens and one or two of those blue space babes as well. Some of the aliens gave him a short glance before returning to whatever they were doing before, while others had completely ignored him. He was about to ponder why that was when Squawky suddenly stopped in front of him, to his surprise. Pointing at the open doorframe beside Axton, the alien gestured for him to enter. Stealing a quick glance, the Commando raised an eyebrow to what he saw: A simple room with a single table, a chair, and a large rectangular sheet of what appeared to be a mirror on the wall. All of this pointed to one thought in the man's mind:

Did I just get picked up by the alien police?

Nevertheless, he entered the room as instructed, the door closing and locking behind him. He'd rather not make an enemy out of the security force from the get-go, if he could help it. Sitting down in the chair, which was quite difficult with his hands still behind his back, he was just about to make himself comfortable when the door opened again and his jaw hit the floor; into the room walked a man. A human being. A large, burly man with an older face that said 'I'd rather not be here right now' with a side of 'I have more important things to do so don't waste my time' and a small seasoning of 'general displeasure'.

"Son," the man spoke, "you've got some explaining to do."

Five minutes earlier…

"Officer Lantio, report. What do you have this time?"

"We received the call at approximately 5:73 from one 'Kirak', a Salarian. He requested a customs agent to greet him upon landing to deal with a stowaway on his ship. Kirak had stated that he and his copilot were able to restrain the suspect. Both of the ship pilots stated that they'd never seen him before in their lives. The guy probably thought he could get a free ride to the Citadel by hiding in the cargo. The stowaway seemed eager to get somewhere, said he had to, quote: 'meet a guy about a thing'."

"That's a human joke, Lantio. It's a way of saying he wanted to leave."

"Ah, sorry sir. I'm still learning these expressions of yours. I swear, your kind has millions of them."

"It's alright, rookie. Now, continue with your report."

"Yes, sir. The suspect reportedly identified himself to the ship's pilot as "Axton" and a "Human". I was told that the stowaway had previously expressed shock when he saw that the pilot was Salarian. When he was transferred to our custody, he couldn't stop gawking at everything. It's like he's never seen a non-human before."

"He might not have. There are some places that have a completely human population; it's not unfeasible for him to never have seen an alien. But anyway, what did he say in his defense when you questioned him?"

"We weren't able to, sir."

"Weren't able to? Why?"

"He couldn't understand us. Or at least, he's pretending not to. I didn't see an omnitool on him; he might not have any translational software."

"Fantastic. A stowaway we can't even talk to. Alright, bring him in."

"Understood, sir."

Sergeant Hawthorne ended the call and leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to gaze at the wonderful office scenery of three and a half cubicle walls. In the older man's opinion, it was far too early in the day for this; he hadn't even had his customary three cups of coffee yet. His thoughts turned from idle daydreams back to the task at hand. What kind of person was this guy? There weren't many people nowadays who didn't have either the implants or at least an omnitool loaded with translation software on them at all times. Was he really that poor? Or was he playing the fool? Either way, he couldn't just leave this vagrant to wander. Hawthorne needed some answers. That meant he'd have to grab a basic translator package from the supply room before he could even start the questioning; unfortunately, grabbing something from the supply room meant paperwork. In triplicate.

"Fantastic."

"Son," the man spoke, "you've got some explaining to do."

Axton couldn't contain the shock on his face. There was another human on this station? Was this guy the only other one? At least he had found the guy; he hadn't seen a single human since he got there. Well, the blue space babes looked kinda like humans, but whatever. More importantly, it was the first thing he could actually understand around here.

"Hey! You speak English!" exclaimed the ex-soldier excitedly. The other man blinked in surprise before regaining his composure.

"Yes, I do. Luckily, you've just made this job a hell of a lot easier. Now I don't have to spend half an hour's time trying to get you to put this on." He placed the small chip containing the translator omnitool onto the table.

"What's that supposed to be?" That line gave the older man pause for a few moments.

"It's an omnitool. Haven't you seen one of these things before?"

"Nah, ain't seen nothing like that before, man. What's it do?" Axton got a very hard stare for that question.

"Well," the other man began after pausing, "it'll let you talk to the aliens, for starters".

"Awesome! Pass it over, I'll… Oh, yeah. Kinda tied up at the moment, right."

"Ah, that's right. Those were from the pilot, weren't they? Those can come off, so long as you promise not to try anything funny."

"Okay, I promise." The fact that all of his gear was digitized into the Storage Deck Unit on his waist certainly helped make that promise seem believable.

"Good." It took the man only a few seconds to remove the bindings from Axton's wrists. Apparently the civilian model was the "easy-on, easy-off" variety. After rejoicing for a few seconds in his ability to once again move his hands and fingers, the Commando reached across the table to grab the chip.

"So how do I use this thing?"

"I'll explain later. For now, let's get down to business. My name is Sergeant Hawthorne, from Citadel Security, Customs Division. Do you know why you're here, son?"

"Not a clue. Not even sure where 'here' is, actually. Ah, right, my name is Axton."

"You're on the Citadel, the hub of all galactic life. Its population is comprised of many different species from across the stars."

"Sounds cool! Which galaxy is this?"

Axton didn't think someone could stare as hard as Sergeant Hawthorne was doing right now.

"The… Milky Way Galaxy, of course. Are you feeling alright, son?"

What.

Axton had been to the Milky Way a few times in his life with the Dahl military and there were never any blue alien space babes hanging around there before. Or any other aliens for that matter. He should know, he checked.

"Er, nothing. I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure? Because being asked what galaxy you're in is not a normal question."

"Why not? Buddy, I got myself teleported to god knows where. It could have been any of the six galaxies I ended up in!"

Sergeant Hawthorne was silent for a few moments.

"Are you on drugs right now, son?"

"What? No! Humanity has spread across six galaxies! Everyone knows that! I should be asking you if you're on drugs!"

A look of displeasure was spreading across the sergeant's face like bullet casings from a Vladof assault rifle; quickly, and in large quantity. Evidently the man didn't like to be yelled at by the people he was detaining, especially not first thing in the morning.

"Now you listen here, son! Ask anyone on this station if anything has left this galaxy, and they'll tell you the same god-damn thing I'm telling you now! I don't know what fantasy you think you're living in, but some of us have to live in reality! Since you're obviously in no state to be talking any sense, you get to park your backside in our cozy little one-roomer until whatever the hell it is you're on gets outta your system!"

"What?! Hey, I told you I'm fine! Just gimme the magical space computer and I'll get outta here!"

"Quiet! Just for that the cuffs go back on!"

"Oh, come-on, seriously!?"

Whoops.