Author notes: I took some decisions regarding the nature of Naquadah in this chapter. I think they are working, though you may disagree about them.

Thanks to all the people who took time to review this story or mark it as a favorite.

Special thanks to Narsil for betaing this chapter.

Disclaimer: see chapter 1, updated with notes regarding use of Mass Effect and Shadowrun.

Rating: FR18

IOH-4, January 1996

The station personnel smiled kindly as they observed the two girls playing tag. It was not an unusual scene for them. Once the initial fright linked to weightlessness passed, most kids felt the need to experiment, particularly when it was their first time up here, and this was why this section of the station existed. In fact, the attendants in charge of the observation room, who were here mostly in case people got sick, were more agreeably surprised at how well they seemed to get along. With one maybe fifteen and the other ten or twelve… it was often the moment when the oldest wanted her baby sister to leave her alone. Both had a healthy tan, rather long hair – dirty blond for the oldest one and auburn for the youngest one – and were in good shape. From the station records, they were dual nationals with French and US citizenship and went by the name of Buffy Antonia Summers-Venturi and Dawn Maxima Summers-Venturi.

"Dawnie, come see this," said the oldest one as she saw something interesting beyond the observation bay.

A little further away, Hank Summers smiled as he saw his two daughters float with assurance. He was himself quite prudently keeping a hand on one of the many handles that adorned the room's walls.

Sure, it was more expensive to use this way to come back from la Réunion but seeing them both so excited… priceless.

"What are you thinking about?" asked his wife as she drifted near him, finally sticking her foot under one of the handles to anchor herself.

"That it was worth every cent to have us change 'planes' here."

"It's not like we can't afford it," replied Joyce with a shrug. "It's also ten hours faster than the old way to go from Saint-Denis to Los Angeles."

He nodded. The start from La Réunion was almost the same, a standard plane to Johannesburg. After that however, it was one shuttle for a rendezvous in orbit with one of the International Orbital Hubs acting as a transit hub for 'higher' destinations and another to Los Angeles. It was more expensive than the plane but she was right, money wasn't a problem. Between his consulting work for various software companies and the money coming from the patents on Joyce's inventions, they were very comfortable.

"But you are right… it's a wonderful gift for our daughters," she added. "One that will be difficult to top."

"Hmm… in one year or two, they should have finished that Armstrong Museum they are talking about."

"The Moon… yes, that would top it," she replied, cuddling against him. "It would also be the occasion to go visiting Andie and Markus…"

Joyce missed her sister. For the first time in years, Andromeda had missed one of the Christmas gatherings as she was very busy putting her lab back together on the Jules Verne Base. Even with her cutting-edge, so-classified-I-can't-even-dream-about-it job for the French military, she usually managed to come, even if it meant she only stayed for a few hours and that her travel mode involved some kind of fighter jet.

Though Andie could not tell her any details about her new job, the main reason had been widely advertised by the media and subject to a lot of philosophical debate concerning the militarization of space. The 1st Spahis regiment had been removed from the 'Armée de Terre' and moved to the Moon while being subject to many personnel transfers, including a grizzled combat instructor for the commandos of the 'Marine Nationale' called Markus von Schlesien. The Spahis' new mission was a return to the roots: the defense of the French colonies. Logically, Andie was busy designing and field-testing a lot of new equipment while her husband had to come up with ways to make the men efficient in space.

In truth, Joyce had been more worried about how her niece and nephew Mariko and Karl were adapting. Thankfully, their own Alteran heritage seemed to have kicked in and they saw it as one fantastic experience. Also, from the video call Andie had managed to establish on Christmas day, Mariko had told them there were fourteen kids in total on the base. It was fun and the most annoying part was all the exercise they had to do to make sure their muscles and skeleton developed correctly.

Still, Joyce thanked the fact she was just a 'simple' academic, currently 'between two institutions' as she took care of some personal research. She could move freely and, thankfully, security scanners had yet to be smart enough to see the differences between a human and an Alteran-human hybrid. Medical examinations were another matter of course but this was why she had a rather special family doctor recommended by a certain office of the Los Angeles French Consulate.

She smiled as she remembered a meeting she had over twenty years ago, as she was taking one of the key decisions of her life…

Paris, 1974

Joyce was sitting in an office that officially belonged to some obscure annex of the archives of the 'Ministère de la Justice'. In truth, while the agents using the building had law enforcement powers, their mandate was different. It was in many ways essential but it was not one that could be acknowledged officially. The 'Septième Bureau' existed to handle creatures most people blissfully thought to be the realm of legend. Creatures like her.

She was currently sitting in front of its director, a man she had come to call Uncle Jacques over the years. He was looking better than he did the first time she saw him and she had a good idea why. With the way his Vril was undulating, a way she knew very well as she had often observed it on her Dad, the man had started to take Elixir of Life. She focused back on her immediate problem. She needed a favor from her uncle. She had been made an offer for a PhD at Caltech. She understood that she had some limitations normal people didn't have. It was the price to pay for such things as the Bureau faking her medical certificates. She would probably understand if he said no but… there was a note from Feynman himself saying he was looking forward to meeting her added to the invitation letter, for the Trimegistes' sake!

"Do you remember the day we met for the first time?" asked Berenger.

"Yes, it was in 61, the day the geothermal plant was inaugurated," she replied, wondering how he would construct his argument.

"Yes… that day, I wondered how much your family would influence this planet's history. Once I was back in my office a few days later, I put some more thought on the matter and I realized that your father had already contributed to change history."

"How so?"

"Before we continue, this falls under the non-disclosure agreement you signed."

"Understood… this is because of what Dad and you did together, right?"

"Yes. It was your father who helped me to… transmute my hypotheses into facts," said Jacques with a smile. "He also did something very brave that most of the other Résistants I spoke with considered pure madness. He traveled clandestinely to Germany and got me out of the death camps. He even made it so that I reached England and this allowed me to become De Gaulle's advisor on the supernatural. This event, as minor as it may seem, is in fact a major crossroad because of the possibilities it opened."

"I think I see… you were in the right place when the general was creating his government and he asked you to put the Bureau together. Without you, there wouldn't have been anyone reliable and letting… the usual suspects take care of things would have been the only reasonable solution."

Joyce knew that many in the old secret societies did not like at all the fact that some governments had decided to handle supernatural matters. From a discussion she had once with the Count, some of those attempts had ended badly, like with the American Demon Research Initiative. The Bureau's success was pretty much the success of one providential man: Jacques Berenger. The man's own brush with horror in the camps had led him to devise other solutions than the 'study it so that we can weaponize it' other groups had used. The Bureau tried more to act like a paranormal law enforcement agency and this implied that non-human sophonts – the Bureau was still trying to find something catchy enough to replace the negatively connoted demon – had rights and duties, even full citizenship if they applied for it. For Berenger, such details were not only a matter of being humane. It was preparation for the Big Reveal that was, according to his analysts, a matter of decades now. He had sworn that the Republic would be ready to prove she was still the country that created the Declaration of Human Rights then.

"Well reasoned. I wonder what I would have done without that… maybe become a writer. Anyway, this put me in a position that made a difference. I suppose you were taught in school about the war in Indochina?"

"Yes. My teacher insisted a lot on the disagreements between France and the USA on how to handle the conflict and how it sowed the seeds that led to the dissolution of NATO and the rise of the European Alliance in its place… aren't there a lot of hidden meta communities in the mountains areas there?"

Meta… he had a little smile at that. A simple term, maybe a comic book reference but based on facts in this case. Most demons were actually human hybrids and therefore metahumans. He filed the thought away. He would discuss it with his communication specialists.

"Yes, there are a lot of 'metas' in the mountains," he replied. "How they interacted with the various factions of the area, including the fact the colonial government ignored their presence, was one of the root causes of the war. It was also the first time I… butted heads with the Watchers and, as a consequence, became convinced of their… obsolescence."

"Why?"

"The Watchers were considering the supernatural aspects of the war as an isolated system."

"Ouch."

"Indeed. The whole Watcher philosophy is built around the idea that human evil is not for them to sort out. While it may seem a reasonable approach, one that allows them to focus on their mission without being tangled in mundane affairs, it has undesirable side-effects in the modern world, particularly when you mix it with the idea that kingdoms come and go while the Watchers endure. It creates in many Watchers the idea that any 'mundane' consequence of their actions is irrelevant, a collateral damage done for the Greater Good. In this case, their solution to the problem was simple and brutal… and completely oblivious to the effects it would have on the area's political stability. I honestly doubt that the Indochina Federation would have held if I had not stopped them."

Berenger had a bad taste in his mouth as he remembered the most despicable moment of that operation. Sometimes, deep in the night, he wondered if he could have spared that girl. He knew that she had been raised by the Watchers' Council and indoctrinated almost from infancy… could he have brought her in, taught her how to be a life-loving teenage girl instead of the Watchers' attack dog? He would never know. He had put a bullet through her brain because the situation was just too explosive and a Slayer, even in chains, was too dangerous. He could just hope he would not have to take that kind of decision again.

"Uncle Jacques..."

"Sorry, some… bad memories. To come back on the initial topic, your family has influenced history on several levels. The inventions released by your parents and more recently the classified work Andromeda is doing for 'la Grande Muette' are considered by those in the know to be a key to France's strategic advantage. While relations with the USA are not as bad as they were ten years ago, they will not like the idea of you studying abroad."

"You know Mom's policy on Alteran technology?"

"Yes. I know she only taught you learning methods and how to harness your capacities as a Vril-user. How did she say it? Something like: 'if my daughters are to fit in this world, I cannot afford to give them too many cheat sheets.'"

"Yes, that way whatever we discover is just normal scientific development and we're free to disclose it."

"I suppose I can sell it to the minister as part of the 'Détente' le Quai d'Orsay wants to have with Washington… I will put one condition thought. You are not to accept any contract with the American government without having a Bureau lawyer go through it first."

"That's fair. Agreed."

"Good. We have agents at the Los Angeles consulate. My secretary will give you the necessary contacts. I hope you enjoy California, Joyce."

"Thank you, uncle Jacques," she replied, rising to hug him.

IOH-4, January 1996

"Mom, Dad, look! That's the Toy Box!" said Dawn, pointing at something on the station's exterior.

Joyce and Hank drifted toward their daughters and looked at the ugly grey orbital shuttle moored on the station. Back in 1991, the Planetes TV show had done a lot to instill in the public the idea that space was not some distant thing. True, there were already space stations and Moon bases by then but the public did not really understand what it meant. Then came the shocking reveal at the end of the first season of Planetes.

The zero-g scenes were not a special effect. They had been filmed in space and the reason why many of the actors were unknown people before the series was because of what some had called a 'Bruce Lee solution'. Rather than to teach actors how to behave in space, the members of the Debris Section were real astronauts working for Omphalos Industries who learnt to act and the figurants picked among the station personnel of the IOH-4. Likewise, their shuttle, the Toy Box, had been built for real and was considered the prototype of the many orbital shuttles now used in the Earth-Moon system. It was now kept as a kind of memorial here. After that day, for many people, space wasn't just the same. If a company could afford to film a TV show in orbit… a big 'open for business' had just been painted up there.

And now, five years later, it is a place where you start to see tourists like us…

"Girls, we have two hours before we have to check in for the next shuttle," said Joyce. "How about we go to the gravity ring to grab a bite?"

"Funny they don't offer astronaut food to eat in zero-g," said Dawn. "I'm sure it would sell."

"Probably too messy… you imagine someone like Bert here?" replied Buffy, mentioning one of their kid neighbors known for his lack of table manners. "The filters would be clogged in no time."

Hank smiled as they drifted toward the elevator. Sure his family wasn't exactly what his late father would have called normal. Hank didn't really mind. He had his share of fights with Arthur Summers and his ideas of a woman's proper place, particularly after Joyce made her own opinions on the matter clear, making quite a few references to dinosaurs and cavemen in regard to his father. In the end, he had decided to keep his side of the family unaware of some realities.

For most people, including his own parents, the Summers-Venturi was just a family of science geeks. He was a software developer, mostly working for the gaming industries these days. His wife was a genius who was pretty much worshipped by most of the people in his field for inventing the optical chips that opened a whole new era of computing. As for his daughters… while he still insisted they go to public school so that they could socialize, he recognized that normal classes would just make them miserable. Both Buffy and Dawn had not only skipped a grade but were also taking all the advanced classes they could.

There was also another, darker side though and he was very thankful that Joyce had warned him thoroughly about it when they started getting serious in their dating. Sure, being dragged into that demon bar taxed his sanity, but at least he knew what he was signing up for when he married her. He had no idea how he would have handled a later reveal.

All in all, he was rather happy. Sure, there was the occasional supernatural occurrence in their life, like when Joyce used what he called 'her Jedi tricks' to zap that demon at the hospital or how he had learnt the hard way that if Dawn had a paper cut, her blood had better not end up on any kind of mystical drawing, particularly the ones related to summoning.

But still, we're making it work…

La Réunion, January 1996

Ariana played the scene on the TV, hit rewind and played it again, listening one more time to the explanations Tali Zora Vas'Neemah gave to a kid of the Feros colony about how mass effects and Element Zero – often shortened eezo – worked. The Alteran usually avoided science fiction shows as her own scientific knowledge often got in the way of enjoying the story, but her grandchildren had insisted on watching the Christmas special episode of Mass Effect. After a few minutes, she had started to raise a very intrigued eyebrow.

Shortly after the family left to go back to their own homes in France or the USA, she had bought and downloaded the first season from the Ad Astra Channel server. Since then, she had been going through a marathon session, taking a lot of notes in a wiry Alteran shorthand. On the paper, a word was circled several times, followed by the Alteran symbol for a question mark.

Guess it's time for a little experiment…

She got up and took the elevator going down, inside the bunker hidden in the rock below the Venturi estate, the very secure place that held her and her husband's labs. She put her hand on the bioelectric scanner to open the door of the rare components vault before going straight to the case holding a small black ingot. Holding the precious material, she returned to her main lab with the same decided stride.

"Philippe," she said, letting the lab's central computer locate and transmit her voice to her husband. "I took the orichalcum. I need around… ten grams of it for an experiment."

"Sure," replied the alchemist's voice on the loudspeakers. "I'm coming."

A few minutes later, he found her reading Alteran texts on her computer, her Vril-enhancing bracer already on her right arm. A small piece of the dense black mineral had been cut away from the ingot and set in a ceramic crucible.

Over the years, he had been able to complete his knowledge of this metal with some texts from his wife's database. Orichalcum itself was Element 164, which had a completely aberrant stability given its atomic number. According to the Alteran sources, many of its unusual properties, including the stability, was related to how it interacted with dark matter. The way it was created in nature was itself unusual, implicating complex interactions between an exploding supernova and the local hyperspace.

"Ariana… correct me if I am wrong, but does this have to do with the hours you spent watching Mass Effect lately?"

"Yes. For a Terran, the show is just using a little less technobabble than the old Star Trek."

"A statement that leads to a question. What does it look like to an Alteran?"

"Disturbingly accurate. I am not speaking about the alien species described in the show, though my people surveyed some planets that had an environment built around dextro proteins like the Turians or the Quarians in the show."

"Those reports are seven million years old, that gives time for evolution to work. Any chance this could describe current species?"

"I don't have sufficient information to give a reliable answer," she replied with a sigh. "What I can tell, though, is that the technology described in the show works. If we take faster-than-light propulsion… my people normally used hyperdrive which basically means opening a portal to take a shortcut through another dimension, then going out. In Mass Effect, the ships stay in real space. At first I thought it to be just artistic license but thinking about the other technologies triggered some memories. I remembered that this technology had been developed but judged too inefficient compared to hyperdrive. According to my database, this kind of drive was used only once, for an extragalactic exploration project."

Philippe nodded, understanding the logic. From what he remembered from a previous discussion he had with his wife, a ship in hyperspace was similar to a diving submarine. The picture it had of what happened in real space was limited and for exploration ships it may mean missing something.

"What about Element Zero then?" he asked, remembering it was the basis for all the Mass Effect technology. "From what you told me, orichalcum is at the core of Alteran technology but it does not have the same properties."

"You are partly right. See," she said, activating her bracer and putting her hands on both sides of the crucible.

The alchemical circle drawn around the crucible flared. Of course, over the decades, Philippe had taught the Art to his wife but he had soon discovered that she had an advantage that no human could hope to match. As a Vril user she was a living Philosopher's Stone and she could replace many of the lengthy processes needed to create a reaction with pure will and clear intent. The fragment of orichalcum started to change, soon acquiring a blue-white glow. Ariana directed a jolt of electricity into it and it started to float, taking the small crucible with it.

"Meet Element Zero, also known as white orichalcum, same element but different isotope. As the interactions with dark matter are caused by the nucleus' structure…"

"Any alteration to it changes radically some of the properties of orichalcum… it has exactly the same properties as the Element Zero described in the show?"

"Yes. The one thing I am not sure about are those 'biotics' described in the show as we weren't crazy enough to expose people to a toxic material to see if it bonded with the nervous system."

"How did the Alterans consider… let's call it eezo to prevent confusion, agreed?"

"Agreed. In the old times, just a curiosity. We never found any large deposits – not that it means there are none – only traces in regular orichalcum ore. Our technology did not have any need for it but if a civilization had access to large quantities of eezo at a stage similar to the current Terran one… at least some of the Mass Effect technologies seem to be a logical development."

"So, to summarize: eezo exists with properties like the one described in the show. Your people knew about it. They never encountered large deposits but the galaxy is a big place. Other technologies described in the show are actually using principles your people knew… the Olympians?"

"A definite possibility. But why?"

Los Angeles, January 1996

Buffy was skateboarding expertly through the streets. At first glance, the scene would have been familiar to someone of the eighties, maybe reminding them of Marty McFly in Back to the Future. A few things however, made it clear that while this wasn't the 2015 described in the second part of that movie trilogy, time had marched on.

Most of the girl's clothes were nothing unusual: jeans, sneakers, red and black checkered flannel shirt worn loose and with rolled up sleeves over a black t-shirt printed with a red coiled snake drawn in a vaguely Native American style. Some other items were another matter, like the black metal gauntlet on the girl's left arm, the wrap-around sunglasses with integrated headphones and the wire pinned to her shirt that linked the two items. Even if an astronaut may have recognized the combination as a stripped-down version of the computer system found in modern spacesuits, it was certainly not a usual sight on the streets of Los Angeles.

Her skateboard itself was raising some eyebrows. Sure, it wasn't a hoverboard but it was still motorized, its electric engine able to propel the girl at nearly twenty miles per hour at top speed. Of course, the batteries wouldn't last long then but Buffy was still working some problems out of her prototype. The dynamo recharging the batteries when the board was rolling unpowered was still not efficient enough for her taste.

Even if I understand her reasons, sometimes it's a pain that Grand-Maman is keeping such a tight lid on Alteran tech… well, at least I will be able to patent my board once it's ready. If I had a fancy alien tech one… guess the Bureau would have a word or two with little old me…

That was, in her opinion, the big downside of being part alien – she didn't dare to even think quarter after the gene therapies her grandmother gave her to fix some issues with her metabolism – and an alchemist in training. The French equivalent of the Men in Black would always be keeping an eye on her family. Sure, it was not very invasive, but there were things she just couldn't do. Medical examination in school? She had to come up with an excuse except for the simplest things. Chemistry class? She had to make sure to keep her knowledge about 'public chemistry' and alchemy separate. At least, she didn't have her Mom's problems with her Vril abilities… yet. Most of the things she knew how to do reliably were internal, like what she called her Astral Perception in reference to her favorite game. On the other hand, her Mom had a tendency to go 'Sith Lord' if she got too angry, with her telekinesis and electrokinesis reacting to her aggressive thoughts, like with the demon at the hospital.

But let's remember what Grand-Maman said: 'you have the talent. How far you'll go is just a matter of training and experience now'.

The fingers of her left hand touched her palm on the right spot to turn her skate's engine off. According to her estimations, she had enough inertia to reach the school grounds and the battery could use a little charge for the return trip in the afternoon. She remembered when she had started at Hemery High a year and a half ago. She was then the tiny thirteen-year-old who skipped a grade… well to be fair she still hoped she had a growth spurt coming. All in all, she thought that she had not managed her freshman year too badly even if she gained a reputation as the school's Nerd Queen.

At least the popular girls clique is avoiding me like the plague now…

She had a little smile as she remembered the events. At first, she had been approached by them. Sure, she had skipped a grade but she was rich and pretty, which meant they had to try to recruit her. Maybe because of her young age then, she didn't take any clear position, naively thinking she could stay away from school politics and concentrate on her studies. She quickly realized her mistake but, thankfully, fate offered her an interesting solution in the person of Kimberly Hannah.

Speaking of Kim… here she is.

She got down off her skateboard and picked it up. She waved to her friend who was sitting on a low wall, typing on the laptop Buffy had helped her build.

"How was it up there?" asked Kim, closing her computer as she got up.

"Loved it, even if it was only for a few hours. I'm definitely working in space after college."

"Good for you… maybe I'll do that too."

They both smiled. Shortly after she started her freshman year, Kim had approached her, asking for tutoring. In appearance, Kimberly was part of the popular girls' clique, the school elite, but Buffy had quickly discovered a sadder truth. The teen was in fact the whipping girl of that group's alpha bitches and the only reason she put up with the abuse was because she craved to be acknowledged. When they met, Kim was an emotional wreck and her grades were plummeting.

This struck a chord in Buffy's soul. She took the lost teen under her wing and, under the guise of tutoring, made it her mission to rebuild the girl. This was the reason why the popular girls were avoiding her and Kim. It was because in six months Buffy had transformed a valley girl into a first class nerd. So they treated the whole nerd clique that had gathered around Buffy as if they were a pack of rabid werewolves, fearing any prolonged contact could contaminate them.

"You saw all the buzz in the forums about the Christmas Special?" asked Buffy.

"Impossible to do otherwise. After they killed Shepard in the first season's last episode… we were all waiting to see how they would handle the fallout."

"Well… with the actress pregnant, they needed a reason to get her off screen for a while. Still… Cerberus."

Kim could only nod. During the first season, Cerberus had been depicted as a secret society of human supremacists severely lacking in the conscience department, particularly after that episode where Shepard found one of their scientific projects studying the technology of the show's big bads, the Reapers. The point creating a noticeable level of outrage among some fans was the deal with the Devil Liara T'Soni had struck with Cerberus at the end of the Christmas Episode. She had given them Shepard's corpse because the Illusive Man – Cerberus' mysterious leader – had promised that the mad scientists at his service could bring the Commander back to life.

"Well… I guess the whole gang is going to need to vent off. Friday night's game is going to be interesting," said Buffy.

Kim had a mischievous smile. She remembered a time when she would have scoffed at the idea of a weekly RPG session as a loser's pastime. That was before Buffy destroyed all of the things she held for certain and helped her to rebuild herself. Things that she used to like had become boring. It was as if her mind was getting hungrier the more the family learning methods Buffy taught her sank in. She started playing Shadowrun because she could not stand the idea of spending the evening talking about boys with a bunch of airheads anymore. She learned all the rules and how to make the most of her character… then she started to enjoy being a hacker – or rather decker to use the game's terminology – called Nightcrash during her evening sessions, helping to plan their runs with military precision as both the game and Buffy's gamemastering style had a very low tolerance for screw-ups. Probably what shocked her the most was the warm welcome she had received from the gang, despite the way she had treated them in the past.

Even if some of them think I'm the Vader to Buffy's Palpatine, she thought with a smile.

"Thankfully, we're not playing our regular Shadowrun campaign. At least, when Billy has us playing Paranoia, total party kills are expected."

Buffy laughed at that. While Shadowrun was a rather serious setting centered on bands of mercenaries in a mashup of cyberpunk dystopian future and fantasy, Paranoia was… crazy fun. The game gave each player conflicting personal objectives alongside the main mission and expected them to betray each other. When you added to this the setting, a city-sized bomb shelter run by an insane computer where a cloned population only had a very vague idea of what the world before the atomic war looked like… crazy fun indeed. Its only inconvenience in some people's opinion was that it needed rather mature players able to not take things personally when their character was backstabbed by another player.

"Someone is talking about Friend Computer?" asked a playful voice from behind them.

"Hi, Billy!" replied Kim while Buffy waved at the boy who joined them as they walked on the school grounds.

Neither said anything about his most striking feature: he was completely bald. A few months ago, Buffy had noticed something wrong with her friend's Vril and she nudged him to see a doctor about the headaches he sometimes got. Buffy was very thankful she had seen that as Billy Fordham was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Luckily, it had been spotted early enough and could be treated. When the therapy he was going through made him lose most of his hair, Billy said that if he was going to look like Lex Luthor he had to do it right and shaved the rest. Even now that he was cured, he kept shaving it, liking the style. Not that he was alone in that feeling. Some spacers, after they got sick of having to find ways not to have their hair floating wildly in zero-g, had done the same and it was starting to become a trend.

She waved goodbye to her friends as they reached the lockers and Billy and Kim headed for their respective classes. She quickly folded her skateboard and put it away in her locker with her gauntlet and wired glasses. She thought about the Latin translation she had to turn in this morning… she just hoped she hadn't messed it up too badly. She had a tendency to mix up classical Latin and Alteran.

Closing her locker, she headed to her next class.

Los Angeles, May 1996

Buffy was dreaming. Given the way her brain was wired, it didn't happen for her in the same way it did for humans. Things were far more organized, the dreamscape displaying more attention to detail and she could easily decide to slip into full lucid dreaming and remember a dream she found interesting.

Her current dream was in some ways typical for a teenage girl. True, some aspects of it were not usual and may have been considered disturbing by some people. Its central theme though, was pretty common and the way Buffy moved under her sheets would have given an observer an idea of the topic.

The décor of the dream was the Citadel, a big space station that was the seat of the galactic government in Mass Effect. More precisely, it was taking place in the Presidium, not too far away from the Human Embassy. Buffy was in a remote spot in one of the parks, lying with someone else on a blanket, a picnic basket near them. She was leaning toward him, looking straight into his gold on black eyes, her lips parting in anticipation of the coming kiss.

The slight problem some may have with that fantasy of hers was that the male was not human, but a bony humanoid creature that some had called a kind of evolved dinosaur. Buffy didn't care that the skin her hand was caressing was covered with a cream-colored carapace or about the mandibles spreading a little to better allow for their kiss. She just remembered that his dextro-proteins and her own levo ones meant they had to pay a little attention when exchanging bodily fluids. Race or even appearance? Irrelevant. The reason he was her favorite Turian was his personality.

"Garrus…" she said softly as his talon-like fingers caressed her back.

She frowned as she felt the embrace melt, the whole décor around her shifting to something else. Gone were the Citadel's peaceful parks, replaced by something that looked like a medieval inn. The scene's main feature was a fight between a girl and a creature she immediately recognized thanks to her grandfather's lessons: vampire.

I did not ask for that, she thought, her mind now completely lucid.

She let the scene unfold, noticing the superhuman level of physical prowess the girl was showing. She also noticed that she was around her age and that she seemed desperate… no that wasn't it. Tired, wanting for it to end but still fighting, out of pride or maybe of habit. Buffy averted her eyes as the vampire finally managed to land the killing blow. It wasn't because of the violence. It was because the girl's eyes were saying: 'I can finally rest'.

She knew it was the point where most people would have woken up in a cold sweat. Not her. She was Alteran and she did not take kindly to anything trying to hack her mind. She still woke up, but with a determined mind as she immediately sat on her bed in the lotus position, shifting to her Astral Perception to observe her own Vril. Yes, it was there. Small, blending in quite well if you didn't suspect it. It was like a tumor on her soul, still small but already burgeoning.

She decided to analyze the thing a little better and warn her pa… a ripple coming from the tumor. Was it surprise? Buffy was still wondering as she felt her awareness being sucked in, a little like during her own attempts at Astral Projection. Her room faded, replaced with an arid landscape. Her quick analysis revealed a structure similar to the medieval dream, alien structure pasted on her own thought. There was something else though, something lurking.

"Sorry, but I have no intention of speaking to you yet," said Buffy, concentrating. "This is my brain and… say hello to Seattle for me!"

She pushed with all of her will, using the techniques that allowed her to shape her own dreams. She heard the scream of frustration of the thing as the savannah melted away. Buffy was now standing in a high-tech office and she quickly manipulated the controls on the security cameras to see her opponent.

Interesting… she represents herself as some kind of dark-skinned cavegirl.

She eased out of her meditation, taking great care to keep her concentration. For now, the invader was lost in the virtual world she had created for her but this situation was entirely dependent on her continuing to feed this 'dream'. She walked slowly toward her parents' room. She could feel the emotions of the 'tumor'. It was temporarily off-balance because it wasn't used to resistance.

"Mom," she said as she entered the room. "I have a problem…"

Venusberg, May 1996

They were a group of apparently teenaged girls sitting on marble benches around a pool situated in what had once been a cave. Once, because the girls living in the nearby village had taken it as a pastime to transform the place into a subterranean temple. It had taken them decades but time was not important when you were already dead and had to do something to keep your afterlife busy.

The architecture was Egyptian with some Greek influences, though the frescoes that adorned the walls showed a variety of styles going from Ancient Egyptian to modern street art. One familiar with the history of art could however have seen a progression, from the oldest to the newest styles and with a blank section of wall after the latter. All of them also shown similar scenes: the prowess of a warrior girl against monsters. A girl whose age was similar to the girls sitting around the central pool.

The pool itself was circular and at its center lay a rock in which an axe of red metal was embedded in a way similar to the sword of Arthurian myth. It was the Scythe, a legendary weapon forged in ancient times for the Slayer. The Lord Mars – the only man who had the right to touch it – had moved it there over a century ago, saying its old hiding place wasn't safe anymore. When he struck the rock with the Scythe, a source sprung from the rock, its waters bathing the ancient blade before it cascaded into the pool and, through a small canal, flowed into the village.

Of course, the waters were not ordinary. How could they be given the circumstances of their creation? The Slayers spending their afterlife in Venusberg had made the place a shrine but this was not a simple matter of respect for a symbol. The waters were highly magical, charged with the power of the God of War and of the Scythe. Should a Slayer drink them, they were a source of health, often used when sparring got a little rough.

It went further though as Faith had discovered shortly after she came there. For a Potential like her, drinking from the source meant instant Calling. This was one of the reasons she was sitting with the others around the pool now. She had been a Slayer for five years, not that she minded. The training she had gone through during these years – either with her new Dad or with her fellow Slayers – would have probably killed her if she had remained human.

What they were doing was not really a ceremony, though the Senior Slayer, an Egyptian girl called Neferneferuaten Tasherit – Nefer for short – had sure made it feel like it. Not that Faith could fault her for that. Nefer was the daughter of a Pharaoh after all and her education had been that of a priestess.

But being an Egyptian priestess is not like a Christian priest. Magic is a mandatory class for them, she thought, also remembering that Nefer was one of the few Slayers the Watchers never could get their grabby hands on. Just like her and like the one they were observing, now that Nefer was using the Scythe's magic to turn the waters into a scrying pool.

"Hem… what is happening to the Sineya?" asked Xin Rong as she watched the scene in a liquid mirror.

They were all familiar with the black girl with dreadlocks and white facial markings clad in ancient rags that was at the center of the image. They had all met her at one point or another in their dreams and they knew what she was: an echo of the First Slayer, the avatar of the force that gave them all their power, the part of the Slayer that migrated from girl to girl. The problem was the landscape around her. They were used to see her in a savannah that had been the hunting grounds of Sineya. Not this time. This time, Sineya was standing on some kind of half-destroyed highway bridge, looking at the night skyline of a sprawling city, dominated by a huge pyramid marked with the word 'RENRAKU'.

"I think Buffy took control of the dream and sent the Slayer to lose herself in a fantasy world of her own," replied Jehanne, who had lived during the Hundred Years War.

In the pool, Sineya turned her head and dodged artfully as what looked to the assembled Slayers like a gang of demon bikers charged her.

"I don't recognize those demons," said Nikki Wood, a Slayer who died during the Seventies and had more or less been Faith's surrogate Mom since the then little girl had arrived in Venusberg.

"I don't think they're real demons," replied Jehanne. "They must be from a book she likes or something like that… and I really hope it's that because…"

They all winced in sympathy as, inside the dream, Sineya was blasted away by the explosion of an antitank RPG. Demons using modern military weapons was not something most of them liked to contemplate. They still remembered the mess Tarja had been when she arrived two years before, having been mowed down by assault rifles. Even now, the Scandinavian Slayer still insisted the demons had cheated.

Faith had no such preconceptions but she recognized that the education her father gave her was definitely not the one a Watcher-raised Slayer like Tarja had received. Mars was raising her to become a general, not a mere grunt. He had drilled repeatedly into her that war was not a matter of fairness. It was a matter of objectives and how far you were ready to go to fulfill them.

"Why does she fight it? I mean, why does Buffy fight the Call?" asked Xin Rong.

"Didn't we all resent it at one point or another? Didn't we all have times where we desired a normal life?" replied Nefer. "I certainly did."

"It is different for her," said Jehanne. "She knows she will never be what most people consider normal. Her very blood won't let her. She has learned to accept it, you have seen… her fantasy," she finished, blushing.

"What she wants is not normalcy. It's control," said Nikki thinking about Buffy's reaction to the Slayer Dream. "That's why she's fighting the Call… but she won't win. The Slayer will wear her defenses down eventually."

"Yep," said Faith, "but that's not the goal here."

"What do you mean?" asked Xin Rong.

"It's a diversion," she replied with a grin. "Notice that the attacks are all big shows: grenades, explosives and all. The goal is not to kill Sineya but to keep her busy. You can bet that she is telling her parents about it."

"Running to Mama?" asked Nikki.

"If I had her parents, I would," replied Jehanne on a slightly stern tone.

"Right," replied Nikki with a sigh.

"Add to this the fact she has both Alteran smarts and a human's twisted mind… as my big sis Discordia would say, a 'delightful combination'," said Faith, making air quotes around her two last words.

Los Angeles, May 1996

"…and that's all I know about her," said Buffy.

The whole Summers family was sitting in Joyce's lab as it was the place best equipped for a video conference. On the big screen currently split into three windows, several faces were frowning as Joyce had decided there was no time for half-measures and called in the cavalry. In the middle window, Ariana and Philippe looked very worried while in the left one, Jacques Berenger was staring at Buffy with his sharp, analytical gaze. In the right one… the Count of Saint-Germain was looking at the teen with evident sympathy.

"Saint-Germain," said Jacques. "The Slayer?"

"Almost certainly," replied the Count.

"What is the Slayer exactly? From what I was told, she's a killer in the Watchers' employ," asked Joyce.

Buffy's mother was really not happy about the situation. From her own observations, that thing already had hooks straight into her daughter's life force and no exorcism would get it out of her. Now she learnt that it was linked to someone who had a terrible reputation among the metas.

The Count started to talk, explaining some basic facts about the Slayer. While he sincerely wanted to help Buffy, he had to keep the bigger picture in mind. At Minerva's request, he had never told the Venturi about the Goa'uld and he could now guess part of the reason. So he just said that the Slayer had been created millennia ago and that while the Watchers were currently in charge of her, she was not their creation. He said how the 'tumor' Buffy had identified was the source of the power and how it migrated to another host after the current one's death.

"That Slayer thing is a kind of possession, right? Will it control my daughter?" asked Hank.

"From the data I have on past Slayers, no," replied Jacques. "Those who were tightly controlled were so as a result of the indoctrination they received at the hands of the Watchers. You have to be aware that there are historical precedents of them killing Slayers they cannot control, in hope the next one will be more pliable."

"Can the link be undone without killing the host?" asked Buffy who was obviously straining to split her attention between the conversation and maintaining the dreamscape distracting the Slayer.

"It was tried many times," replied Jacques, "but no attempt has ever been successful. However, the attempts I know about were made by demonic factions trying to eliminate the Slayer for good."

"Would killing me temporarily work?"

"Unknown," replied the Count. "The main issue is that it is already linked to your life force and that it will soon start to mutate your system to match its needs: augmented senses and physical abilities mostly. Your Vril will also start to emit… a rather aggressive wave that most demons will sense."

"Why?" asked Hank.

"A lightning rod to force supernatural menaces to concentrate on her," replied Ariana. "From what Jacques said, the Slayer is considered expendable."

"Harsh, but true, I am afraid," added Jacques.

"Uncle Jacques, Monsieur le Comte," said Buffy. "Is it possible that the Slayer was… 'patched' by the Watchers to fit their own methods? To me the aggression aura feels like someone wanted to make sure the Slayer would not try to be all buddy-buddy with the metas."

"Unknown again, I am afraid," replied Saint-Germain.

"If the host is willing, would it be possible to do that? Would it be possible to add a patch of our own on top of the rest?" she continued.

"What do you have in mind?" asked Jacques.

"I. Am. Not. Expendable," she replied, detaching each word. "If I cannot eject it then we anchor it to me for good. I die and that thing dies with me. If we can, we get rid of the aggression aura and make some specs updates. I want the Watchers to find a Slayer 2.0 when they look for little old me."

"What kind of updates?" asked the Count, smiling mirthfully.

"Here is what I have in mind…" started Buffy.

As he listened to his daughter, Hank Summers clenched his jaw. He could not deny that there was a part of him that wanted to just pack up and leave, to flee the madness that his life would probably soon become. One look at Buffy's face quashed it. His daughter wasn't desperate but determined to win. He had to be there just like he knew Joyce, Dawn and all the Venturi would. He had to support her and if it meant he had to fight… so be it.

Additional author notes: I'm posting here some notes for people familiar with the games wondering about this story's Mass Effect TV show.

- Shepard is a female adept with Spacer and War Hero background.

- The Season 1 (aired in 1995) covers the events of the first game. Kaidan (who was Shepard's romantic interest) dies on Virmire and Anderson is named Councilor. The season ends with the Collector Ship attack on the Normandy, Shepard plummeting from orbit in her depressurized suit being the end-of-season cliffhanger.

- The 2-hours long Christmas Special episode of 1995 covers more or less the events of Mass Effect: Redemption where Liara T'Soni, Cerberus and the Shadow Broker agents all try to get a hold of Shepard's corpse. The episode ends with Miranda Lawson overseeing the start of the Lazarus Project to bring Shepard back alive.

- Season 2 starts with episodes covering more of the secondary characters' lives during the two-years gaps between the games, fleshing out more the universe. For example, it shows Wrex's involvement with the Krogan clans on Tuchanka, Tali's work for the Quarian Flotilla. Mid-season, the events of the second game start.