CHAPTER 1
The world seemed to slow. Debris and dust drifted down as Commander Shepard popped out a heat sink to be quickly replaced by another. She could feel the bullets pelting against her cover though she could not hear them. She forced her breathing to slow, recalling the placement of her remaining enemies on the battlefield.
Batarian mercenary at two o' clock, shields down to 50%. Heavy weaponry.
Salarian at nine. Shields down.
Heavily armored Krogan with Batarian, but moving around cover for a possible flank.
"Not while I'm in command," Shepard whispered. But to first take out that missile launcher. Relaying to her comrades what she intended, the Commander's hearing came rushing back with Miranda's words, "Employing overload!"
With the beautiful sound of shields fizzing out, Shepard waited after another volley of bullets passed and upon Miranda providing cover, pulled the Batarian toward her.
"Thane!" And with that single word, the Batarian exploded, momentarily stunning the Krogan and giving Miranda enough time to destroy his armor with another warp.
Pull, Throw, and the Krogan sailed over the edge of the platform to fall to his death.
Shepard heard a break in the remaining enemy lines and vaulted over her cover, dashing behind a metal crate four meters in front and to the left of her previous position.
"Deploying drone!" Cried the Salarian. Damn. But that only meant…
Shepard quickly ducked out of cover and got off two quick shots in succession. And with that, the drone disintegrated to nothing. Breathing heavily, Shepard surveyed the field, searching for potential survivors. None.
"All targets eliminated," came Miranda's Australian accent. "Nice shot, Commander."
Shepard nodded in acknowledgement, not yet holstering her weapon. After ensuring her squad was unharmed, Shepard pressed her right index finger to her eardrum.
"Commander Shepard to the Normandy."
Joker's voice came back loud and clear, "Yes, Commander."
"Seems we ran into some resistance on the planet surface. Apparently, we weren't the only ones to investigate the signal. I want you to keep a close orbit just in case; send word to the Alliance if anything should go wrong."
"And Cerberus? Commander?"
Shepard only raised a single eyebrow, but Joker seemed to understand her silence. "Roger that, Commander." Miranda only looked slightly uncomfortable, but after the ordeal with the Collectors, Shepard knew her Second in Command was fiercely loyal. They didn't answer to the Splinter Cell group anymore. And it felt…good.
Sighing deeply, the Commander accessed her omni-tool with a flick of her wrist. The strange signal was close by, seemingly having strengthened in the past half hour alone. She waved for her comrades to follow and they fell in line. When they finally reached their destination, a short, but awed silence ensued.
"What is it?" Thane inquired.
"I have no idea." Shepard moved closer to examine the small, unknown object no bigger than her hand and shaped like a flat cone. It seemed to weave in and out of existence, giving it an ethereal feel. "We need this examined by our scientists; I don't want to…disturb…anything," Shepard finished, briefly flashing upon her initial contact with the Prothean beacon on Eden Prime.
Shepard backed away slowly. When she nearly reached her squad mates, she turned around and contacted the Normandy. "Joker, send the shuttle down; we're going to need—"
Both Thane and Miranda looked up at the Commander's abrupt stop in both conversation and movement.
"—some—what the—"
A flash suddenly exploded from the cone behind Shepard. In a burst of light, the Commander was caught in what seemed like a miniature mass effect field and judging by its pull, one that was emitting a much greater magnitude of dark energy than those used in space.
"Shepard!" Immediately, Thane and Miranda sprang into action, only to be halted by the Commander's shouts.
"No! You may be caught in it, too! Damn it…" Struggling to maintain control in body and mind, Shepard knew she had to act quickly. "Miranda! Return to the Normandy! Contact Ambassador Anderson and—"
But she didn't get to finish her thought. The Commander—and the unique object—was gone.
* * * * *
"Absolutely not!" the merchant cried in a heavy, Orlesian accent. "I will not sell to such filthy…mongrels!"
Alexander Cousland sighed heavily as did his dark-haired female companion, though each for very different reasons. His other Antivan companion was not as reticent.
"Ahh, yess," the elf said, his accent thick and rich, "We are the mongrels, but tell me, my dull, fat friend…who do your women turn to, mm?" He licked his lips suggestively, then hesitated. "Turned to," he amended, "…over and over…and under…"
Rolling his eyes, Cousland stepped between Zefran and the short, irate man who was quickly turning a bright shade of red. "They're not mongrels; they're elves," Cousland stated. "And treating them as such wins you no favors here. Think: we're living in dark times. Is it so wise to alienate potential buyers of any kind? You no longer grace the streets of Orlesia. Do you see bards about? Fair maidens prancing in silk shoes? No?"
The merchant glared at the Grey Warden, but hesitated, heavily considering his words. "I…" he started. "Not at full price! They—"
The Warden took another step toward the man, whose frustration seeped into every crinkle and shadow upon his face.
"Oh, FINE!" he cried.
Satisfied he'd helped yet another town in some small way and receiving a slight satisfaction in cowing the man, Cousland motioned his companions to follow as he wanted to begin heading out soon, before the dark took them. To his immediate left, he heard another familiar female sigh.
"Tell me, my Warden…the ever knight in shining armor…" the grey silk voice began caustically, "…do you plan on attending to every single problem but our own?"
"My dear Morrigan," he replied, "I am attending to our problem. Who's to say I cannot help others on the way?"
"I do and did, my dear. Repeatedly, in fact, though apparently to deaf ears."
"Apparently," mumbled Cousland. He could not deny that the woman was beautiful, carrying a certain enigma that most men might find rather irresistible, but he was not most men. Shifting his shield to a more comfortable position on his back, he said aloud, "Let us leave now. Has Leliana and Wynne finished with their respective businesses?"
Morrigan's slight figure stood, standing in a way that was both provocative and authoritative. Grasping her staff, she nodded. "Yes…though I'm afraid our dwarven friend may have found the local tavern."
"Grand," Cousland said, amidst Zefran's full-throated guffaws. "Do not worry, my friend," the Antivan assured, "I am sure he—"
Abruptly, the entire town was covered in a bright light, though it snuffed out just as quickly. Screams and chaos immediately ensued. Mothers ran looking for their children. Men looked for their wives. None he could see took to arms, but it was an innocent town—farmers and merchants. There were no soldiers here.
The Warden quickly took a combatic stance and his companions followed his lead, flanking him. He was soon joined by Wynne, Leliana and Sten. Swords and spells ready, they headed toward the shouts. The closer they got, the clearer the situation became, at least from the scared shouts of those nearby.
"…came from nowhere!"
"Filthy blood mage!"
"…strange garb, most likely a demon!"
The entire group tensed and the Warden ordered everyone he came across to safety. Demon? Blood mage? Here? He glanced at his companions. Leliana had equipped her bow, muttering prayers to The Maker. Sten predictably remained serious, his large hands expertly handling his sword. Wynne was muttering a spell of haste and health, Zefran looked excited, and Morrigan… Well…Morrigan simply looked amused. Hoping Oghren was all right (and hopefully wouldn't charge into battle drunk as a…well…dwarf), Cousland continued forward. Alistair had agreed to play scout on the outskirts of the town while the rest took care of whatever business that needed to be done. The commotion, however, would undoubtedly draw him back.
Good, the Warden thought. Best to remain as a united front.
As the crowd parted for Cousland, the Warden could feel his heart thumping as his muscles tensed. But he could begin to finally see what everyone was screaming about. A few more steps forward and both Wynne and Leliana audibly gasped.
It was the strangest sight The Warden had ever seen.
* * * * *
Commander Shepard felt nauseous. Like really nauseous. Taking great heaves, she attempted to steady herself, finding herself flat on her back and feeling the softness and moisture of wet grass.
Grass? She and her team had landed on an arid planet, devoid of intelligent organic life. Or organic life for that matter. Then she remembered…
The signal! She tried to sit up, but immediately winced, forcefully shutting her eyes in her attempt to just get her lungs to work properly. After what seemed like forever, Shepard slowly opened her eyes and tried to get her bearings.
Only to be greeted by a small throng who looked at shocked as she felt. Sitting up, she began in the friendliest way possible, holding out a hand in greeting, "Hi…I'm Commander Shepard…"
The woman closest to her shrieked, pulling away violently and grasping a child close by. Her daughter? Shepard tried to placate her, but her reaction seemed contagious and the more the Commander tried to calm everyone, the more panicked they seemed to get.
"Wait! Stop! I'm trying to…I won't hurt you! Son of a…" Shepard slowly got to her feet, quickly assessing the environment as well as her equipment. Who knew where the hell she was and what survived that…relay? Was it an artifact that no one had yet discovered? The signature was that of the Prothean artifact found on Ilos. But as she knew, that just meant Reaper technology, which was invariably still a great unknown.
Shaking herself of such thoughts to ponder later, Shepard unholstered her rifle, which seemed in working order, thankfully, and set it to use concussive rounds only. It was apparent that she had somehow ended up in a rural setting and based on the reactions of her arrival, civilians. She did not want to kill or harm anyone unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, the few men that had stayed nearby did not appear to share the same idea, having armed themselves with…metal?
Were those…swords? No shields or proper armor, she expected. But this…Shepard had a dark suspicion that she was much farther from her solar system than she initially assumed. And with that unpleasant thought, a commanding voice sounded behind her. In English no less.
"Stay your ground! Turn around…slowly." The men in front of her hesitated, so Shepard guessed the first command was for them, but knew the second was for her. So slowly, she obliged, her weapon not wavering for a moment, ready to face whatever came next.
* * * * *
"Okay…good," The Warden continued, "Nobody needs to die today." At his words, the woman—and a human one at that—in front of him looked briefly perplexed but did not dare put down her guard. She had the look of a hardened warrior and he noticed that she did not turn wholly around so as to be able to keep the other men in her sights. Her body at an angle, her posture firm, he knew this was not one with which to trifle.
Despite the fact that she had no evident weapon or shield of any kind. But she could definitely possess dark magic as was evident by earlier cries.
The Warden glared at the farmers to leave and after a moment, they obliged. Then he turned back to the woman. She held something in her hands and from the way she was holding it, it was threatening. A moment of realization hit him: a wand of some sort? Wynne or Morrigan would know, but from a quick glance, Cousland saw that neither of them regarded it as a danger. Despite this, Cousland didn't want to chance anything, saying, "Place it on the ground…slowly…" The woman had that brief perplexed expression again, and slowly lowered the object, though only slightly, but the Warden realized she was about to speak.
After taking a deep breath, she said, slowly and in a placating manner, "I'm Commander Shepard, a Spectre. I arrived…unexpectedly. I'm not here to harm you."
At that, a loud snort sounded to the Warden's right. "Like you could…*hiccup* harm a *hiccup* flyyyyyy little girrrrl." So apparently Oghren did find the local tavern.
"Oghren! Fall in line!" Cousland ordered, at which Oghren unsheathed his axe and swayed a bit. And then fell to the ground out cold. Zefran let out a small hmph and the strange woman raised an eyebrow, but it was Morrigan who next spoke.
"Despite our…friend's…rather unfortunate presentation, he does have a point: what makes you think to harm us even if that t'was your purpose? I sense no magic in you, my dear, and though you have a warrior's demeanor, I also see that you don no battle gear. So, what say you? I am most curious as to your answer."
No magic. The Warden glanced at Wynne, who nodded her agreement and Cousland visibly relaxed. Sheathing his sword, he and everyone else, including some remaining bystanders, awaited the woman's answer.
* * * * *
Magic? If she had breath, she would laugh. Did this woman in very revealing clothes just say magic? What? Was she serious?
Out of pure perplexity, Shepard lowered her gun. After all, they weren't an abnormally high threat. Abnormal? Yes. But a huge threat? No. She'd only taken down a partially constructed Reaper and Collector base but a month ago. What was a few poorly armed, albeit odd, men and women? This was all too weird. She didn't understand their reactions. Hell, she didn't even understand their clothes! But she knew she was in unfamiliar territory and she could sense that the apparent leader of the group didn't want any bloodshed either.
But damn…magic? Just where the hell was she? Realizing they were still awaiting her answer, Shepard licked her lips and started, "If by magic, you mean biotic, then I actually do possess…umm…magic…" a giggle started gathering in her gut, but Shepard quashed it. "Actually," she continued, "I'm an Adept. My crew and I were bordering the Traverse. I'm with…or was formerly with…Alliance Command."
She waited for a sign of recognition from them. Nothing. Oh boy.
Before she could continue this rather pathetic attempt to explain things these people obviously knew nothing about, the leader stated, "You're not from around here, are you?"
Commander Shepard let out a deep breath and smiled sadly. "No, no I really don't think I am."