I want to skip the usual "Oh my god I'm in the Mass Effect Universe!" moment of normal SI's, not only because I think it is overdone, but also because I'm bad at writing such things. And I also want to avoid the usual problem how to bring Shepard to take along a relatively unknown person with nearly no abilities handy for the mission.

You know what I mean, right?

Chapter 1: What we are

2174

The grizzled, scarred man stared across the table in the dimly lit bar. As far as bar's go, this one was particular bad, even compared to some shitholes the old merc had been in. But what do you expect when you're in some backwater colony somewhere close to the damned Batarian's?

It was not unusual for him to meet his clients in such a location, a shabby bar was the third most used sort of location actually, right after strip club and a public library. Because, who would go to a public library in this time and age and who would ever expect an old warhorse like him meeting his clients, or their henchlings at least, in one? Exactly, no one.

However, as far as he was concerned, not only was this bar extremely shitty, this was also one of his most unusual contacts. Batarian's were normal, as were humans, the odd Turian now and then and once or twice an Asari. This had to be a mistake.

"Move kid", he grunted as he stood in front of the table, his voice a dangerously low growl. "You wanna find another table."

The Quarian in the dark red and green suit looked up and it was hard to say if he was scared or not, damned helmet killed any sort of facial expression. For a few moments the two observed each other, waiting for the other one to make a move and the older human was about to grab the kid and remove him by force, when the suited alien asked: "Are you Mister Zaeed Massani?"

"Yeah." Though he was slightly surprised, Zaeed didn't show it. A good poker face was always important when dealing with unknowns, especially when said unknowns know your name. "Why do you ask, kid? Want an autograph?"

"Actually, no", came the answer. "Please, step into my humble office. I'm the one who had send you an invitation."

"I gotta admit...", Zaeed rumbled as he sat down on the other side of the table and grabbed the waiting beer. "... that you don't look much like a George Martin. I should have come suspicious when I got a message from a long dead fantasy author."

Though it was against his policy to work with kids, Zaeed was not one to turn down a free beer. However the short stuff would want dead or what he would want delivered, he would turn it down, drink his beer and be on his way out to find some real work. The boy did not look much older than a teenager, all scrawny and thin, though it was hard to say in the fucking suit.

"Well, my name's actually Varah'Gel nar Sharida, but had I written that, would you have come?", the young quarian said with a light shrug and took a sip from his drink through the straw.

"No", his conversational partner admitted. "So what do you want? Who do you want dead, kid?"

"No one", Varah'Gel replied. Then, instead of explaining, he pulled out a data-pad and slid it across the table, where it was then taken by a slightly amused mercenary. For several minutes there was silence between the two, only interrupted by the occasional sip on some shitty beer or something equally shitty, as Zaeed Massani studied the content of the data-pad. Then, finally, he chuckled.

For several moments the scarred mercenary chuckled into his beer, eying up the Quarian with an amused glint in the one natural eye. "That's a very good joke kid."

"I would more see it as a business opportunity", replied the slim alien nonchalant. "If you have read the financial part of the proposal, you will know that I am willing to spend a large sum of money on this."

Again the human's eyes, the artificial and the natural one, scanned the content of the data-pad and for a second there was silence, before the scarred man said: "That is a large bundle of credits. Do you even have that much money?"

Again instead of answering Varah'Gel pulled something from his suit, this time a small cred-stick. He slid it over to Zaeed and then told him: "This is enough to cover the first six months, including ammunition, food, beverages and a lap dance from an Asari stripper once a month."

"I see you have your priorities straight Kid", Zaeed mumbled with a chuckle. He took another mighty swig from his beer and then he began to explain why this would not work. "I don't take on trainees..." A short pause as he realized just how stupid the whole idea was. You don't become a mercenary by being trained as one, you just become one or not, end of story. "I'm more of a lone wolf, you know kid?"

"Yeah, I heard that already", the Quarian replied with a shrug. However, then he added: "Yet when the icy winter winds blow, the lone wolf dies, while the pack survives."

The older mercenary eyed the scrawny kid with a mixture of distaste, amusement and admiration. He had guts, that was true. And though that alone was certainly not enough to become a good fighter, it was one of the most important attributes. "I will not be your friend. I will not be your daddy. I will not wipe your ass or dry your tears when you break down in the middle of a shootout. And if you die, I will not pay for your funeral."

"That is acceptable." Zaeed could not see it, but behind his mask Varah was grinning from what would be ear to ear if he were human. Who would have thought that this hare brained idea would actually work? Perhaps he would die, perhaps he would get maimed, but whatever would happen, at least he would have been the trainee of Zaeed Motherfucker Massani. Only one tiny thing: "Could you please stop calling me Kid?"

"No."

"Awwww..."

/

2175

In turian society, lying is not only frowned upon, it is practically unknown. You don't lie, at least not about your own deeds. You stand to what you have done, be it wrong or right, you stand firm and strong and when asked you say yes or no. It was one of the worst insults imaginable for a Turian to be called untrustworthy.

In turian culture, every one knew where you came from, thanks to the tattoos on your face. They would mark your home colony, the place where you were born and where you were raised. However, if you don't have these tattoos, a so called Bareface, then no one can see where you are from, no one can be sure what to expect of you. Of course this has lessened over the last centuries, but still, being called a Bareface was still an insult.

The turian woman out for a run was an actually Bareface, that means she had no facial markings. While in her record was written that she had been born and raised on a free asari colony and thus had no facial markings, the truth was, that she had never been born at all.

"Hey Bareface."

She ignored the barbed comment from her squadmate as she ran past him, she was too used to this by now to react to it any longer. And even if it would have faced her, she grinned to herself knowing that she had just passed him for the second time.

Like any good Turian, Chareen Tinius, the name of the female Turian, had enlisted in military service as soon as she had the opportunity. Other than normal Turians, she could have gotten around this, as she had not been "born" in Hierarchy space. However how else could she ever earn trust and recognition?

The plan had been simple: Get enlisted, one year training, one or two years of service and then join C-Sec. This way, she could make contact with Garrus and earn his trust and perhaps even got a way to join Shepard through this. She made it to the first step before the plan crumbled because of unforeseen consequences.

Now, two years after enlisting into the military, Chareen was still enlisted and had no chance of leaving the military besides fleeing, being thrown out or being weeded out. How could she have known that biotics are forced to serve not only longer, but also in specialized units?

"Hey Bareface."

This time she did not ignore it. Instead she suddenly whirled around and punched him in the face. The idiot kissed the ground with a loud, dull sound and he groaned in pain, while several others of the unit who had seen it broke down in laughter.

/

2176

Most Batarians are not allowed to leave their home system. They live in a despotic system, where everyone knows his place, with a ubiquitous, paranoid government and in which your chances of moving up are practically zero. The only exception to this rule are those who live outside of the system, outside their society, outside even the whole batarian space.

Pirates, mercenaries, criminals, slavers, looked down upon even by their own species. Yet they were the ones which the rest of the galaxy thought of when thinking of Batarians. Not a very favorable light in which the species found itself. But then again, their society was slave-owning, harsh, often inhumane and totalitarian, so perhaps the picture painted by the thugs and slavers wasn't that inaccurate.

Gorko was one such thug. Not the brightest, not the smartest, but unquestionable loyal and capable of great feats of brutality. That was one of the reasons why he had such a high standing in the small mercenary group he was part of, namely being right hand man of the leader. And that was the reason why he was holding the business end of a shotgun to the face of one of his comrades. Because his boss had said so.

"Oh come on now guys, this is really not necessary", said the four eyed alien on the other end of the weapon, looking a bit unnerved by the prospect of possible death via shotgun. At this distance, point blank, not even his personal shieldings would protect him from the damage. If he had been wearing them and was not standing there clad in only a towel around his waist. "And even if, must we do this here?"

"Yes", answered a broad shouldered, bald human as he stepped into the large room. Like Gorko, he was clad in hard suit consisting of black and gray plates and joints, complete with sidearm and larger weapon, in his case an assault rifle. "Yes, we must my good friend."

"If we're so good friends, then why is your lackey holding his compensation for a cock into my face?" For a second there was a stunned silence, then he added: "That sounded weirder than it was intended to be."

"Yeah, that was always your talent", said the human with a loopsided grin. He turned to look at the two naked women who were also inside the private bathing room, a human girl and an Asari woman, both looking with wide eyes at the exchange. "Get lost sluts. You've seen nothing, you've heard nothing."

Both did as ordered, though the black haired human girl only after giving her client, the nearly naked Batarian, a small kiss and then hurrying out of the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as they were out, the bald human turned back to his employe. "Gorko, shoot him if he tries anything stupid."

"With pleasure boss", the not too bright underling replied with a big, toothy grin. Apparently he liked the idea of shooting his fellow Batarian's head clean, or not so clean, off.

With that out of the way, the human began to explain. "Kor, it's like this: We will join the attack on the human colony of Elysium, grab a bunch of slaves, make huge money and become rich. And you will come with us or we will be forced to kill you."

Kor, actually Korrik Veg'gaz but only ever called Kor, eyed him. "We are mercenaries. We are no slavers last time I checked, and neither are we pirates. When I signed the contract, it was a group of mercenaries I signed on to. I am a mercenary. I'm not a criminal."

"Times change", his conversational partner replied. "Just imagine all the riches we could get. There is huge money in this."

"Dirty, bloody money, earned with deeds which would make every sleep filled with nightmares and pain of guilt."

"Money is money!"

"No it's not!"

Again there were a few seconds of silence, before the human sighed. "Kor, you're a good technician. You're an even better combat engineer. I don't want to lose your services to something so minor. So, why don't you just swallow your morals for once and when the deed is done you can silence your conscience with more whores, drugs and booze than you could ever had bought before."

Kor did not answer immediately. He thought about his options. He was unarmed, unprepared and slightly buzzed. He was also not clad in his armor while the two idiots were. And they were armed. If he flat out refused, he would most likely be dead the second he said so. That left him only one option: "Gimme a day to think about it."

"You have a minute."

Inwardly cursing, Kor sighed. "Not like I have much options, do I?"

"No, not really."

"Very well. But our clients better deliver."

"They will. Don't worry, they will."

While Gorko lowered his shotgun, Kor already formulated a plan on how to warn the human system alliance of this attack and how he could get out of there before the shooting started.

/

2177

"Fucking humans", one of the squadmates mumbled through his half open mouth, his words barely able to be made out over the loud techno music.

Chareen, or Face as she was called by her squadmates, ignored him and brushed aside the comment. She knew her squadmates feelings towards humans, no matter how wrong he was, yet she did not feel it necessary to be angry at him for that. He was just talk and no bite, he would be fair to humans, even if he did not like them.

Her squad was, as any turian biotic cabal was, tasked with constant training and betterment of their abilities and isolated from the rest of the military. They had their own barracks, their own canteen, their own command structure even inside the base, always kept apart from the normal soldiers.

But even they needed downtime now and then and after several tries they had finally managed to get some free days. None of the squad would go home, they all remained inside the base and spend their time together, though with enjoyable activities and not training, and went into the city in the evenings. Sometimes they ended up in a bar, sometimes in a nice restaurant and today they had entered a crowded club.

There was dancing, drinking, laughing, joking around and being playful with one another, a group of friends out to have some fun, nothing special. And Chareen was just having fun with her friends and sort of family, enjoying the familiarity with them and having a good time.

After the incident in which she broke a man's mandible square off with a brutal punch, Chareen had been reassigned into another cabal on another planet. Again she got into a direct fight with one of them, but she earned not only her squadmates' respect, but also their friendship. They called her Face as moniker, jokingly pulling her leg, and whenever someone outside the squad would call her a Bareface with malicious intent, the offender would either be hanged upside down by biotic powers or beaten up by whoever was there. Or both. Combined.

Right in that moment she occupied herself with listening to her male squadmates made idiots out of themselves by trying to get laid. Apparently, no matter what species, young men were awkward at approaching the opposite sex and talked themselves into the worst situations without even knowing it. Chareen snickered into her drink as she saw one of them getting yet another cold shoulder from a turian girl, when she noticed something strange.

At first she thought that the light was playing tricks on her, yet on second look her first guess turned out to be true. Taking another sip and then standing up she made her way across the dance floor, intend on saving Tinus from a major embarrassment... or worse.

"I assure you young man, that I have no intentions of sexual contact with you", the Asari said with a stony face and it was a shame that she should have shouted it, as Tinus, the young, eager turian soldier, did not understand one single word.

"Cool. So, you come here often?!"

Damn, did this dense idiot not take a hint unless it jumps into his face ass naked? Whatever the Asari was about to say, she did not get the chance when Chareen stepped in, grabbing Tinus at the shoulder and pulling him away roughly. "I apologize for my friend, he does not know when she should keep his mouth shut."

"Hey, find your own asari-piece of ass!"

At this Chareen nearly blanched. Knowing when it is better to retreat she hastily fled back into the crowd, Tinus arm held tightly in her clawed hand. When she was sure that they were out of reach she released him, yelling at him immediately: "Do you have any idea what you just did?!"

"I know what you did! I was about to get some sweet asari-loving!"

"No you were about to get your brain fried!"

"Yeah, by some hot asari-momma via hot mind sex!"

"No, by an Asari Justiciar who you offended!"

"I what?!"

Chareen rolled with her eyes and groaned. "That woman is an Asari Justiciar, a champion of justice of her people. Insulting one of them or hindering in what they are doing is a sure way of getting your brain fried!"

Tinus stared at her. Then he tried to get a look at said Asari, yet could not through the thick crowd. And after that he asked: "How do you know?!"

"I grew up on an asari colony you shithead!"

"Oh yeah, right", the male Turian mumbled under his breath. "So... thanks. I guess. Still, she's hot."

Again rolled eyes from Chareen, though she had to admit that yes, Samara was one major hottie. If you are into the MILF type that is. And male or an at least bisexual female. Or a normal female, as Asari are mono gendered. Well, whatever you were, Samara was a very attractive woman.

A very attractive woman who was just now unleashing her biotic powers to subdue an asari criminal who had fled to this world. Of course said criminal answered in turn. And being the good turian soldiers they were, Chareen and her squadmates reacted.

/

2178

The surface of Torfan was burning. Not because of the large scale attack of alliance troops and fleets, but because there was lot's of volcanic activity on the moon and it was quite normal for large lava fields to appear over night and earthquakes giving way for new volcanoes.

Still, there was an attack going on, a major one. A fucking huge planet size attack of the Human System Alliance, consisting of a huge-ass space battle followed by a full invasion force.

For long years Torfan had served as some sort of safe haven for pirates, smugglers, criminals and most importantly, slavers. Preying on the relatively weakly defended human colonies of the Skyllian Verge, large bands of batarian slave hunters and traders have become rich. Their wares were living, their trade brutal and hard and their money bloody.

Was it any wonder that the Human System Alliance would strike back? No, not really, only the most dense or naive of criminals would have thought to get away with this for all eternity. The only real surprise was, with which force the attack had come.

When the heavy doors into Bunker 14 were opened, the human soldiers were welcomed by a ferocious counter-attack and barrages of assault rifle salves. Still they pushed in, forcing their way in, killing the batarian slaver and pirate band who had rented said bunker and were trying to protect their riches. There was a bloody, brutal fight for every inch of ground, every room, Batarians against humans, criminals against soldiers.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but were only minutes, the last of the gang was dead, killed by a shot fired into the back of his head as he tried to flee down the corridor. Not very honorable, but then again, this was, sort of, war.

"Spread out. Cover as much ground as possible. Secure area", the Lieutenant of the human task force team commanded and his team did as ordered. There was no com chatter, no barbed comments, no acts of violence against the dead Batarians, only discipline and obedience.

Inside the bunker they found a series of sleeping quarters offering only simple pleasantries as well as a pleasure slave for every room. Said slaves were barely more than animals, asari and turian and human women not even fully conscious, some of them half dead from malnourishment or violent mating. There was also a kitchen, some rooms used for leisure, a armory and bath rooms, everything one could need.

Three men forced open a single heavy steel door after the technician of said group had failed to hack the, damaged, terminal. They were greeted by the smell of urine, faecal, sweat and blood, too many beings on too little room with nearly no hygiene. One of them turned around and began to be sick over the ground, no one commented on that.

"This is just... wrong...", the Lieutenant mumbled under his breath as he watched the slaves being led out of the cages into the care of para-medics. Mostly humans but also a pair of Salarians were carefully guided out of their prison, looking at their surroundings with hollow, empty eyes, as if they were not quite there. Most of them were badly underfed and some had to be carried. And all of them were wearing slave-collars, cruel control devices which could break ones will alone. "This is just... sick."

"Lieutenant, you better come and take a look at this", one of the soldiers said and with a heavy sigh the Lieutenant, a broad shouldered man of eastern European descent, stepped into one of the single cages were the slaves had been held in.

"Well, that's... surprising", he muttered. In front of him lay a pitiable creature like he had ever seen before. Badly malnourished, the body covered in festering cuts, one of the arms bend in a seemingly impossible angle, a single male Batarian was laying on the ground, breathing heavy, eyes closed.

"One of their own?", the soldiers asked. "We should just kill him and be done with it. Doesn't look like he will make it anyway."

For a few moments the commanding officer studied the body and waged his options. Thought it was tempting to simply shoot the Batarian, and he would not loose much sleep over it, he saw no real reason to do so. And anyway... "No. He is wearing a slave collar", he explained. Then he added: "Soldier, bring this man to the medics. He is as much of a victim as every other of those poor bastards."

/

2179

Two people were sitting inside an old shuttle, one so old that every one stepping into it feared it would go up in flames any minute. However, considering the sheer amount of explosives, grenades and heavy weaponry surrounding the two armored men, that was most likely the last of their worries.

"That reminds me of the time when I fought off an eclipse attack team", the human grunted through gritted teeth, his hands holding his old assault rifle so hard his knuckles went white. "Back then I too had a psychopath at my side."

"I'm not a psychopath", the heavily armored Quarian replied with a happy tone. Despite him sitting between a box filled with grenades, several rockets, a canister filled with liquid explosive gel and a folder for a trading card game, he seemed oddly relaxed. "I'm a highly functional sociopath."

"Whatever you say kid, whatever you say."

/

2180

Though this was not what she had planned in the beginning, not at all, Chareen enjoyed the quiet. A simple, good life in the military, a steady career, a bunch of friends, a post on a tropical world with long beaches and extremely good weather. No, this was not what Chareen had planned at all, but she took it.

Only two more years, then her time in the military was up and she could decide what to do then, how to get into good standing with Shepard and or get onto the Normandy. After all, that was the game plan, wasn't it? But until then...

She took another sip from her cocktail and got back to meditating. Sitting on the beach while the gentle ocean breeze tickled her face and the waves lulled her into trance, she thought that life could be worse.

/

2181

His plan had been to get inside the living quarters of his prey, say something witty and then shoot him. Or scout out the room and plant a detonation charge. Or fry him alive inside the bathtub. He had every intention of doing this when he stood in front of the door and was about to hack the terminal, when the door was opened from the inside and a small bundle of energy ran into him, fell back and landed on the small, diaper clad behind.

"Jerko, come back here!"

And immediately after that a batarian woman clad in a simple dress followed, startled by the man in front of her. The toddler screamed, the woman immediately swooped him up and turned to Kor, her four eyes wide in fear. "My husband is not here."

"I'm..." Kor opened his mouth to say something, to reply something, then he closed his mouth again after no sound came out. "I'm sorry to disturb you."

The woman eyed him carefully. Kor did not really look like a nice person, not even compared to the other Batarians on Omega. He was scarred across his entire head, was wearing a well-worn armor with scratches and dents, was well armed and was smoking a fat cigar. The cigar by the way he now hid hurriedly in one of his many pockets, it was not good to smoke in the presence of small children.

"Like I said, Gorko is not home", the woman said, trying to hide her fear behind a brave face. "He's at work. Working for Aria."

Was this woman trying to scare him? Yep, she was. Not that she was very good at it, but she tried it. So, why would she do that? Was Gorko in some kind of trouble anyway? Or had he heard about what his former comrades happened and was now afraid Kor would come for him? He was right with that, but it would be quite the feat. "Look, I'm just here to talk with your husband. I have no intentions to harm him or you or your, by the way drooling, boy."

She did not seem to believe him. "That's what the last debt collector said too. Now get lost, before I call security."

Oh, that would explain some things. So, Gorko was indepted? No wonder, the idiot had quite the inability to win at the gambling table but a great talent for using money he did not have. For another second Kor eyed the scared mother with her child on her arm, looking past her and seeing a lovingly decorated but simple home. Finally he said: "I'm not a debt collector. But when he get's home, please tell Gorko that Kor was here and that we're even."

/

2182

It ended where it began, inside a dirty bar with piss-poor beer, rowdy customers and shitty service. Zaeed took another sip from his, like said before, piss-poor beer, before saying: "This is it Kid. One last job, then we're done. Gotta admit, I wouldn't have thought you live past the first two months."

"And I wouldn't have thought you would survive any job without getting a heart attack", Varah replied, most likely smirking behind his helmet.

"I'm still young enough to lay you over my knee, kid."

"Sure you are gramps, sure you are."

The lighthearted banter was interrupted when a large Krogan stepped into the bar, followed by a bunch of Vorcha. The Krogan was dressed in blood red armor and towered over every other occupant inside the room, a fact he seemed to enjoy. And shielded from the rest of the people by the blood pack unit, a single asari woman was strolling into the bar, sat down at the counter and ordered a drink.

"Huh, now this makes things complicated", Zaeed grumbled under his breath as he saw this. This last job before he would return to his hunt on Vido was that blue skinned bitch surrounded by Vorcha. That means the plans she had stolen from her former employee.

"I would call it... interesting", Varah replied at that and pulled out a large pistol.

"Yeah, you would."

/

2182

The interview had been simple so far. She was asked about her experiences, about her powers, about her live, her qualifications and she was sure that somewhere inside all these questions a personality test was hidden. And finally the last question, the question which was said so many others failed.

"Why do you want to join C-Sec?"

Seriously, that was the dreaded question so many others feared? Seriously? Chareen would have laughed at that, would it not have broken her mask of seriousness. And she was quite good at wearing a mask, long hours of concentration and meditation for nearly ten years made it quite easy to master your own emotions and expressions.

The three interviewers sitting behind the large desk eyed her thoroughly, the Asari practically throwing daggers at her with her eyes alone. Was she some kind of hard-ass or did she just not like Chareen personally? Both viable options.

"It feels like the logical next step", the single female Turian in the room finally said after waiting for a few seconds, as if she had to think about it.

"Explain", the Turian on the right said. "You are a Biotic, if your file is correct a powerful at that. Your skills are best used in the military."

"My powers perhaps, yes", Chareen answered unfazed. She was by now used to the fact that most Turians not only distrusted Biotics of their own species, they also thought of them as powerful weapons best handled by military personal. "Yet my personality profile states that I am also at my best when not monitored every step and able to make my own decisions."

"Yes, you're a trouble-maker", the other Turian threw in his two cents, his eyes not leaving the opened personal file of Chareen opened before him. "You were reassigned to different cabals no less than four times, once after you were part of a violent and biotic bar brawl."

"Yes."

For a second all three C-Sec officers just stared at her in confusion, before the Asari asked: "You are not willing to explain yourself?"

"Would you listen?"

"And that is exactly the reason why you are not suited for C-Sec", the Turian on the left then said sharply. "You have an attitude-problem. You talk back, you are reckless, you are a wise-ass. C-Sec does not have room for trouble-makers."

And in exactly that moment the door to the interview room was opened and another Turian stepped in, dressed in black and red armor, his face covered with white markings. "But we have more than enough room for such a person." And then towards Chareen he introduced himself: "I am Nihlus Kryik, council Spectre. Have you ever thought about joining this specialized force?"

Very uncommon for her, Chareen was at loss for words.

/

2182

"What is your reason for visiting Eden Prime?", asked the clerk at the counter with his face holding a very unfriendly expression.

Kor grinned at him as broad as he could, just to anger him a bit. "I have bought a small piece of land here. I am a new, proud homeowner on this wonderful human colony."

The clerk's expression turned from unnerved to horrified.

A trigger happy, quarian sociopath. A sassy, biotic Turian. A morally upstanding Batarian. What could ever go wrong, right?