A/N: Yo, gonna try to update every two weeks or something. Keyword being try. Here's chapter two. Also, my next priority is probably going to be my DSXRYBW Crossover (R.I.P. Monty Oum) and my 5D's x FoZ in that order. And maybe some small LoLxNaruto thing with Yasuo (Who is literally the coolest. Literally).

Primarch Tirach was not a patient birdman. He was not a joking birdman. Hell, one would even say, that he was so strict and reverent of the "True Turian Way", that he could turn a no-paint into the greatest Turian patriot and hero known to the galaxy. People should know. He was the one who trained Saren and his squad of course. Even his stature and form screamed "Turian Soldier" exemplified. Standing a good head above other Turians, and with enough strength to challenge Krogan warlords to arm wrestling matches and come out even, the Primarch cut an imposing figure. Even his facial features, scarred as they were, showed the sheer epicness and story that was the Primarch. So one would be wise to assume that he was irrationally angry when he heard the news.

"They are demanding what!?" Tirach shouted straight into the holographic receiver. The deckhand on the other end was visibly blown back by the decibels emitted by Tirach's mandibles. The news was bad enough as it was, but the fact that his own General and student wouldn't deliver the news was especially insulting.

"S-Sir, the "friendly" forces Lieutenant Arterius made contact with are demanding a conference with you. Lieutenant Arterius is willing to pull his Spectre status into the equation and demand an audience from the council if you are unwilling to cooperate." The deckhand was visibly flinching. He was no combat scarred battle grunt, just a normal Turian trying to serve out his mandatory military duty. One would wonder how even now he was able to handle the intensity of Tirach.

'Enough to pull the council into this? What in the world is Saren thinking?' Tirach thought to himself. Saren was never one to abuse his power. Hell, he barely even wanted to accept Spectre status. When approached about his refusal, Saren explained "I'm a weapon sir. A Turian weapon. I am not going to bow down to these councillors who are more than likely to send me on anti-Turian espionage runs." Patriot and hero through and through. Tirach did not create simple soldiers.

"Very well. If he believes it's that serious." And with that, the Primarch simply stood up, and walked out of his office to get his warships prepared. With the intelligence he received from the Indomitable, it was better to be safe than sorry. He made it to his office door, before he remembered something.

"Ensign!" Tirach shouted abruptly. The deckhand that had returned to his duties aboard the Indomitable saluted and began addressing the Primarch's chair as though he were still there. He was simply that intense.

"SIR!" The deckhand responded. Hand across his chestplate, and head held at attention.

"What's your name?" Tirach questioned. While it wasn't easily seen, Tirach had quickly analysed the young deckhand and deemed him worthy.

"Ensign Adrien Victus, Sir!" The deckhand, now known as Victus, exclaimed.

"Good. Report to me immediately for reassignment and training once the Indomitable returns from its expedition." And with that, the Tirach, took the last few remaining steps outside his office. The poor ensign simply sighed.

"To think that this all started because I drew the shortest straw among ensigns. I hate my life." Victus lowered his head onto his console in defeat. Was it too much to ask the Spirits to allow him to peacefully serve out his mandatory assignment? He wanted to be a baker damn it, not a war hero!

-(A.N. Poor Victus)-

Hours Earlier

When Saren Arterius stepped out of the highly advanced personal space vessel, the last thing he was expecting was a city in such ruin.

'Eat your heart out Palaven slums.' Saren thought to himself. He stood on the edge of a large balcony, upon a tower that oversaw the whole city. On the very edge he saw massive walls and turrets equalling the tower in height, protecting the city. He could see patrols, the size of which were indiscernible at this distance. However, none of them compared to the monstrosity of what appeared to be a mobile space station in disrepair. He could very faintly pick out the golden glow being projected by the sphere, creating a large geometrical shield around the city.

'A station that is bigger than the Citadel and easily rivals a small moon. Not only that, but it projects a strong enough shield to protect this city from orbital bombardment.' He determined. Yet still, the technology and evolution around him left him in awe.

'Hell, even this stupid tower, and those stupid walls defy all that Turians know of modern physics and materials.' Saren thought to himself. It was quite simple to see why. The structures were massive and unbelievably thick. He saw it from orbit. However, the sheer amount of weight they produced would have made it impossible to be built this high, or have foundations this sturdy. And they didn't have the natural curvature or "segmented" structure that eezo developed architecture was known for. However, Saren was confused. Because even with this technology, the species he had accidentally encountered were forced to live in horrid conditions. Even from his ridiculously high position, he could see scrap metal houses, what appeared to be their women and children in rags, and their armored soldiers patrolling every alleyway keeping peace. If they were so advanced, why was their apparent capital city in worse condition than an Outer Terminus ghetto? Saren felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned and was met face to helmet with The Strange One, or so he had dubbed the armband wearing rescuer. The being was pantomiming some ridiculous motions. One apparently looked like he was praising some god. And another looked like he was trying to imitate a sunrise. He appeared to be trying to get Saren to come with him for some odd reason, one which Saren was more than happy to ignore.

"Omnitool, how long until I have a working translation?" Saren directed to his wrist.

"1.1 millicycles." A metallic voice responded. In exactly 1.1 millicycles, he could understand and hear The Strange One's voice. Saren was not looking forward to the time after 1.1 millicycles.

"-and so, that's when the Shank learned that one does not simply mate with Joker's baby, no one touches MY sparrow and gets away with it. But why the hell am I blathering? Not like you can understand me, so come on and-" The blue humanoid started.

"But I can understand you now." That one small statement shut the cloaked being up. Saren was secretly happy with himself. It was probably the last moment of peace he'd have until the Turian rescue team decided he was worth the trouble to be rescued.

"How the hell? You know what, it doesn't even matter, I've seen weirder shit. You can explain this to the head honcho when you meet him. But first, your buddy just woke up and was thrashing around, screaming and screeching his bloody head off. So we need you to explain the situation and calm him down." Saren simply nodded and motioned for the strange man to show him the way. As they both walked through the tower to what was the presumed medical bay, Saren looked around at all the soldiers gathered. They were scattered, and at most, gathering in 6 man squads at different booths and accepting missions that way. He even saw what appeared to be a veteran of the species, judging by his scratched and nicked armor, and torn cloak, carrying a cloth sack of misshapen material to one of the vendor booths. Unlike a formal military, he mused, they seemed to work on mercenary contracts, assigned by the different sects, judging by the banners he saw. Interestingly enough, Saren noted, was that every single one of the military members were using their helmets to keep their faces and voices hidden. He could tell, because once he and the blue one passed, he could hear unmuffled voices discussing his "avian traits". On the bright side, he finally picked up a name for the species. "Human". He rolled it around his mandibles for a while, and decided the sounds were apt.

"So what's your name? My name is Jeff "Joker" Moreau. Pilot and driver extraordinaire. Comedian. Warlock. And overall badass." The human in front of him said.

"Lieutenant Saren Arterius of the Turian Hierarchy. ID Number 15423" He stated abruptly, following his training in cases of capture. They walked a few more feet before coming to a crossroads and Joker scratched his head in bemusement.

"Jeez dude, we're not gonna kill ya or interrogate ya, no matter how much you look like the Fallen. Now, if only I could remember whether we take a left or a-"

"The medical bay is on your right and one flight down Mr. Moreau." A female robotic voice interrupted him. Saren quickly drew his pistol and aimed it immediately at the strange box that materialized over the man's shoulder. It had one glowing bulb in its center and seemed to be a mass of triangles with bases pointed towards the center. He was about to pull the trigger when the warlock knocked his hand up with a quick block and forced him to shoot into the ceiling. It was quickly stopped by the metallic substance the wall was made of and absorbed into it.

"Yo, calm down there Big Bird! It's just a Ghost, every human has one. They're like personal assistants." Saren let out a quiet breath. He inspected it more closely, deeming it was of little threat, except for the fact that it had sharp edges. He kept his weapon trained on the block though.

"Is it a V.I. or an A.I.?" Saren questioned abruptly. Joker looked away and scratched is neck bashfully, thinking of an answer.

"I guess it's a mix of both. It's forced to follow our commands, but has enough understanding of self awareness and how to operate tasks that it generally functions independently of its human for the human's benefit. Mine is named E.D.I. Electronic Demonic Irritation." He put his arms up in a disarming manner as the Turian accepted the answer and holstered his weapon.

"Mr. Moreau, my actual designation is-" E.D.I. started before she was interrupted. Joker sighed.

"Just be quiet E.D.I. and give us directions" Joker said defeatedly.

"Of course Mr. Moreau." As Saren followed the small box leading the way, he could not understand the true threat potential of the box. On one hand, AI were absurdly dangerous. On the other hand, shackled AI had such great benefits. He simply filed away the information for later, maybe the eggheads on the Advancement could debate over it. Right now, it was time to be practical, and following the Council laws in unexplored space was certainly not practical. Perhaps Garrus was faring better than he was. Compared to the incessant, annoying, and outright irritating chatterbox and his actual chatterbox, Garrus must have been having a splendid time.

With Garrus:

"So what's your race like?"

"..."

"I see, practical and efficient. I like it."

When the big goliath he was with turned around, all he saw was a :l represented by dots on the behemoth's multi-lit domed helmet. The titan often let his helmet do the talkkng. An Insurmountable Skullfort was cool like that.

"Cool cool, I dig it. My commander's an asshole. How about yours?"

:l

"Not much of a talker are you?"

._.

"I guess not."

With Saren:

Yep, Saren Arterius was willing to bet his family name, brother's honor, his honor, and his seat as 20th Primarch Heir Apparent that Garrus was having more fun than he was.

A/N: Bet none of you saw that coming. If you don't want spoilers, don't read this line IIIIIII Joker is an exo, because fuck brittle bone disease. EDI is his ghost because even though I like dinkle bot, EDI is a better foil IIIII On to the next mission guardians. Also, the Titan's helmet is