AN/Obligatory Disclaimer: Mass Effect and the characters and elements therein are the property of Bioware and EA Games, and Bioshock Infinite is the property of Irrational Games and 2K Games; any other elements or sources of pop culture referenced in this story are the property of their respective creators/owners. I make no claim to them, and am simply a humble fan using them to tell a story. Any OCs that appear in this story, however, are mine. This includes myself (i.e. my self-insert character, through whose eyes this story will be told); at least, I'm pretty sure I own myself. Probably. You can't be too careful these days (lol :-P).

Right, that's it for the standard disclaimer. On with the show!

Chapter 3: Cultural Relations, Part 1.

"So..." I begin awkwardly, drumming my fingers against the elevator's railing in an attempt fill the silence as the lift crawls along at a pace even snails would find ridiculous. "Is it always like this?"

Shepard gives me a quizzical look, aware that I'm trying (and failing) to engage in small talk, but with a hint of genuine interest. "Is what always like this?"

I dip my head in the direction of the floor, suddenly very aware of my impatient foot-tapping which I will to cease before continuing. "The elevator. Is it always this slow? I mean, it feels like we're barely moving at all. I wouldn't be surprised if the door opened right now and I was at eye-level with Kaidan's shoes."

The Commander barely manages to stifle a chuckle at that one before regaining her composure. "You know, it's weird." Now it's my turn to look curious. "All this time on the Normandy and you're probably the first person to actually bring up the elevators; well, the first person besides me at least."

"Really?" I lean against the rails, crossing my arms as Shep' cracks a smile at some to-be-elaborated memory.

"Yeah. In fact, I brought it up to Captain Anderson the first day I was brought onboard." Despite my prior knowledge of the ME Universe, I give her a look that pleads for some context, which the Commander happily provides. "Oh, right, the Captain. Well, Captain David Anderson was the Normandy's previous CO. Like most of us, I'd served under him on the SSV Tokyo, so he had me on his shortlist when he was putting together the Normandy's crew. Apparently, he saw fit to appoint me as his XO for the regrettably short time he was in command of the ship." Her expression sours a tad and there's a sudden hardness in her eyes. "However, due to some complicated political bullshit, he was relieved of said command and I was given charge of the Normandy."

'There it is again, giving me the run-around,' I glower internally, feeling a mix of hurt and annoyance at Shep's continued insistence I be kept in the dark as to her Spectre status and mission to stop Saren. I get why she feels the need to do it; I'm a civilian that's been on ice for over 18 years, who just woke up to find- as far as she and everyone else is concerned- everyone he knows and loves is probably dead from a meteor-strike on a backwater planet in the Traverse, on top of having retrograde amnesia and spontaneously developing biotic abilities. She doesn't need to drag me into her campaign to fight the Reapers, or at least that's how she feels. Still, I just don't like it. Regardless, I push these feelings aside and continue my conversation. "I'm sorry to hear that, Shepard," I reply sincerely, "he sounds like a good man."

"He is," Shepard asserts in agreement, relaxing slightly. "And while it pisses me off to no end that he was all but forced to step down by the top brass and hand his ship over to me, I know that he did so with the intention of helping us achieve our goal with this mission. For that, I owe him." A silence passes between us before the Commander remembers our original topic. "But yeah, the elevator. The first time I rode on this thing, I asked him why it was so damn slow. He said that it was a design feature the Hierarchy added to the ship that the Alliance thought to try out as a continued show of good faith. It's similar to how my station in the CIC is at the rear of room, rather than in the middle like on other Alliance ships. Apparently, the slow elevator ride is a feature from the Citadel that the turians thought we'd prefer, seeing how the asari and most of the other races are alright with it. That and I'm pretty sure it was their way of subtly telling us to slow down and actually try and think about what we're doing and how it will affect the rest of the galaxy, not to mention our own species."

I give an understanding head-bob. "I see... But still, it seems like a slow elevator would be more of a detriment on a military vessel like this one. I mean, what if there was an urgent call for you in the Comm. Room that you needed to answer, one that was time-sensitive, like a person was trying to get in contact with you while under fire or something; or what if the Normandy were to be attacked and you needed to get to the CIC or the bow on the double?"

Shepard nods at that. "Exactly, I know. I wanted to tell the Captain the same thing, but it didn't seem to be that big of an issue to him at the time, so I let it slide and accepted it as another feature of the ship I'd have to get used to for the time being." She pauses briefly, cradling her chin on her thumb and index finger in a "Thinker" pose. "However, maybe it's time to speed things up a bit. I'll have a talk with Adams while we're down in Engineering, see if we can't get this thing moving a little faster in the future."

'Awesome, no more slow elevators on the Normandy!' I mentally pump the air at that, a soft grin tugging at the sides of my mouth. It's nice to see that my ideas are listened to here, given I'm more of a passenger than a crew member at this point; one of the benefits of having an approachable- but still professional- Shepard in command.

The elevator finally lurches to a halt and the shutter slides open, and we disembark. Rounding a corner, much to my surprise, I find myself looking at a level on the ship I'm not at all familiar with. Again, something I should've expected, given just how different the Normandy is from the game now that I'm actually here in person, but it's still a surprise. The room is rather expansive, with mirrors spanning the walls and exercise equipment both familiar and alien dotting the proverbial landscape. The back wall is the only one to lack mirrors, instead bearing a long window that looks in on what appears to be a futuristic firing range of sorts, judging by the stalls, the earmuffs being worn by the rooms occupants, and the muted sounds of gunfire.

"And here we are," Shepard announces as we step off the elevator. "This floor primarily houses the Normandy's training facilities. Nothing really special, all things considered, just your standard gym and firing range. It's where we go to stay in shape, keep our skills sharp, and generally blow off steam if need be."

There are a couple of crew members down here, some running on the hologram-assisted treadmills, others jumping rope the old-fashioned way, a few engaged in warm-up stretches, and a couple of them running through what I assume are CQC drills with padded shields and gloves. That scene in particular makes me a touch nostalgic, remembering how I used to take Hung Gar classes back in high school before the economy tanked and couldn't afford lessons. 'Well,' I think optimistically, 'this time will be different. No sashes, no tapping out halfway though because money's tight and the folks can't afford it anymore. This time, it sticks.'

Brushing that thought aside, I turn the Commander as she leads me around. "This a pretty nice set up, Shepard. I mean, I'm no gym guy, but you seem to have all the best stuff here."

"Trust me, if this were a real gym, membership fees would be through the roof," she jokes as we walk past a pair of crew members jogging the edge of the room. "Starting tomorrow, this is where you'll be going for the physical part of your workout regimen for your biotic training. You'll find the schedule in that file I sent to your omni-tool earlier." I nod, making another mental note to check that out later as she continues. "The actual biotics part of your schedule with myself and Kaidan will take place on a different level of the ship, somewhere quieter and with fewer people, where you'll be able to concentrate better." She pauses for a second, apparently noticing something that breaks her train of thought. "Speaking of, there's your training coach right now."

Following her line of sight, my gaze comes to rest on... 'Damn.'

Bouncing on the balls of her bare feet in front of a punching bag is none other than Ashley Williams herself, dressed in workout attire with hands wrapped in gauze and padded gloves. A flurry of motion pummels the bag, only to be followed up by an utterly brutal kick that echoes with a solid TWACK! and makes me cringe reflexively. Grabbing her inanimate opponent, the Chief delivers a series devastating knee strikes before finishing it off with another volley of rapid punches. Panting, Ash wipes a sheen of sweat from her forehead before taking notice of our presence, made all the more obvious by Shepard's clapping. It's a little weird, seeing just how many things are different in the ME Universe now that I'm here in person. Ash -and Shepard too, I'm noticing- has way more definition to her musculature than her in-game model, which makes sense given her military background. She reminds me somewhat of a toned-down version of Valmet from Jormungand, minus the eye-patch, back-tat, and lesbian tendencies. Making her way over to us, Ash snatches up a towel from the edge of the mat to drape over her shoulders.

"Thanks for the applause, Commander," she manages between breaths.

"Hey, with the thrashing you gave that bag over there, Ash, you've earned it," Shepard smiles back, patting me on the shoulder. "I was just telling Oz how you're going to be in charge of his morning workout."

Ash turns to me with her own smile, removing a glove before offering her hand, which I accept for a firm shake. "Good to see you're up and about, kid. Settling in alright?"

"For the most part," I say with a non-committal shrug. "Just been getting the lay of the land from the Commander at the moment. I gotta say, the Normandy's a damn impressive ship."

I can practically feel the Commander beaming next to me as I say that. "I was just telling Oz about that workout routine we set up for him," she adds, clapping me on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "Starting bright and early tomorrow, Ash'll be in charge of your physical training, though I'll probably drop in every so often to see how you're doing, maybe even join in if I have the time. So long as it's okay with you, of course, Williams."

Ash gives her CO a professional nod at this, her posture straightening a tad. "The more the merrier, ma'am."

Shepard sighs in mock exasperation at this. "I told you before, Chief, you don't have to be so professional all the time."

"Sorry, Commander," the Gunnery Chief apologizes, "force of habit."

"Trust me," I interject sympathetically, "I know how you feel, Gunny." No sooner have the words left my mouth then I already regret them, as both the Chief and Commander give me an odd look, though Shepard's expression is more amused that confused. 'Damn it! Why did I say that?! What the Hell possessed me to make an NCIS reference at a time like this? Curse you, my idiot brain!'

"Gunny?" Ashley parrots somewhat incredulously.

'Damn it,' I curse mentally, massaging the back of my neck nervously out of habit as I explain myself. "Well, back in the med-bay, Shepard said your rank was "Gunnery Chief" of the 212. So, I guess I just figured I'd shorten it so it would be easier to remember. Sorry about that, Ash. It won't happen again " I don't dare make eye contact with her I'm so embarrassed, and already it feels like I've got a nest of hornets in my stomach. 'Social Oz strikes again.'

"Hey, don't sweat it, Oz," I hear her say with an implied shrug, looking up to find a thankfully nonplussed Ash smirking back at me. "Besides," she chuckles at some humorous thought or memory that crosses her mind, "I can think of way worse. Hell, it's better than what those assholes in basic used to call me behind my back when they thought I wasn't listening." I feel myself relax a little bit, thankful I didn't completely ruin my first impression with her on top of sounding like an idiot. Thank goodness for small victories, I suppose. "Just for the record, though," she continues, crossing her arms, "I usually go by either "Chief" or "Ash" when it comes to shorthand."

"Gotcha," I say with a confirming nod. "I'll try and remember that next time." A nervous chuckle escapes my lips as I add, "Just don't be surprised if I slip up every once in a while."

Ash smiles somewhat devilishly at that and I already feel my confidence wavering. "Just so long as you don't slip up tomorrow and sleep through our training session, kiddo. Remember, the Commander may have set this up, but she didn't say anything about my going easy on you." She looks over at Shepard, who's doing her best to hide her amusement at how uneasy I must look under Ash's intimidating gaze. "Right, Commander?"

"You got it, Ash," Shepard affirms with a grin, "just make sure you don't push him too hard. Kaidan and I still need him for our part of his training. That's not to say you can't make him work up a sweat though."

'Damn it, Shep'! That's not helping!' I force myself to calm back down, reminding myself that I'm running with a different crowd now, so I need to get used to this if I'm going to be staying with them for the long haul, doubly so if I want to be of any use to them in the field. This kind of banter's a little different than what I'm used to, but still... 'It's nothing I haven't done before,' I think reassuringly before giving Ashley a firm nod. "Sure thing, Chief. I'll be here on time."

"Good man," Ash says with an approving smile, staggering me slightly with a solid pat on the back. She glances back over her shoulder at Shepard for a moment, who beckons me to follow her. "Did you need me for anything else, Commander?"

"Not at the moment," Shepard replies, turning to head back the way we came. "Carry on, Williams."

"Will do, ma'a- Shepard," Ash says, barely catching herself mid-ma'am before remembering to drop protocol. She smiles after me as we leave, giving a short wave. "It was nice talking to you again, Oz. See you tomorrow. Remember, bright and early, and be ready to sweat!"

"I'll be there," I promise as Shepard and I leave the gym and head back to the elevator. As we round the corner, I breathe an exasperated sigh. "Well, that wasn't awkward."

Shepard laughs at that, returning a weak smile to my lips at the knowledge my sarcasm is appreciated. "It's only awkward if you make it awkward, Oz," she says encouragingly. "You need to stop being so hard on yourself and relax, okay? The sooner you loosen up, the sooner you'll start being able to roll with our brand of humor around here. Besides, the more you do that to yourself, the more ammo you give us to keep messing with you, ya know?"

Now it's my turn to laugh. "True," I admit sheepishly as we step onto the elevator and Shepard heads for the button. "I guess I'm still getting used to talking with you guys. I can't remember having interacted with a lot of military personnel before now, so it's a little intimidating. Especially after seeing the Chief in action back there."

A bemused smirk follows the Commander's soft chuckle as she leans back against the railing and the shutter gradually slides closed behind us. "Yeah, Ash can be a bit abrasive at times, not to mention absolutely ruthless in a firefight. But, if you take the time to get to know her, you'll find she may just surprise you. Besides, it's not like she's completely unflappable either." Her smirk turns into a full-fledged grin. "Remember how antsy she got back in the med-bay when I hinted at her having a hard time dropping protocol? Double that when I found out she's into poetry."

'That's right, Ulyssess in particular, if memory serves,' I think, quirking an eyebrow to keep up appearances. "You're kidding. Gunny and poetry?" I curse myself again at the slip-up. 'For some reason, that nickname's dead set on sticking. Brilliant.' Thankfully, Shepard barely notices, too busy laughing at the memory of a flustered Ashley Williams.

"I know, right?" She says with a smile, her voice shifting as she does her best impression of the Chief. "'Just because I can drill you between the eyes at a hundred meters doesn't mean I can't like sensitive stuff!' You should've seen it, I thought she was going to turn as red as Wrex's headplate!"

We both get a chuckle out of that, and I feel a bit more at ease now. It's nice being able to talk to Shepard like this, makes me glad I'm in the company of Paragon Shep'. However, the mood seems to shift after that comparison to our resident krogan badass, and a more serious expression crosses the Commander's visage. "Speaking of which," she begins, reaching for a button on the control panel. A fraction of a second later, the elevator shudders to a halt, I assume somewhere between the gym floor and the next.

'Huh, so Shepard uses the Gibbs Stop trick too,' I think ponderously, giving Shepard a confused look. "Why're we stopping?"

"The next floor down is the brig," the Commander explains, returning to her spot on the railing and crossing her arms. "It's not really a major priority as far as our tour goes, and there's not really anyone of note there right now, so I figured we'd skip it and head down to Engineering and the hangar area." She looks me square in the face, a mix of concern and professionalism in her expression. "However, before we head down there, I want to be sure of something first." I signal her to go on, to which she acquiesces. "As you know, the Normandy's crew is inter-species, regardless of the human majority. In fact, one of them was on the team that helped me pull you out of that ooze on Eletania, the turian I mentioned earlier, Garrus. I know you didn't seem to take issue with him at the time, but you were still delirious from exhaustion, not to mention half-blind thanks to that stigmatism Chakwas has been fixing via gene-therapy. You still haven't recovered most of your memory, Oz, and a lot of things have changed in the last eighteen years since you've been on ice... Or, ooze, as the case may be." We both get a grin out of that before Shepard resumes. "Plus, 2165 is rather close to the First Contact War, so I need to know if seeing Garrus could inadvertently trigger some less than pleasant memories, or reawaken forgotten animosity."

"So basically," I interject, "you want to make sure I don't have any problems with aliens, right?" The Commander nods in confirmation. "I can understand that. Like you said, I'm eighteen years out of the loop, and eight years isn't that far off from Shanxi. But," I add, "as fuzzy as my memory is, I do remember living most of my life on Earth, up until Eletania, that is. So, I never really had any connection to what went on during First Contact, and my parents were civilians so I don't think I have any real grudge against the turians in regards to military stuff. Besides, my dad was the one who wanted us to move out to DPF's colony project on Eletania in the first place, and as far as I can tell, the rest of us were onboard with the idea too, so I don't think you have to worry about the possibility of my shoving Garrus out an airlock or something." I laugh weakly at my own joke, rubbing my arm anxiously. "In all honestly, I'm more nervous than anything else. I've never really met any aliens before, so I'm not sure what kind of impression I'm going to make on them."

I feel the elevator lurch downward once more as Shepard walks over and drapes a reassuring arm over my shoulder. "Well, I wouldn't worry about that too much, Oz," she says supportively. "They may seem a little intimidating at first, but trust me, once you get to know them, they're an okay bunch. Just treat them like they're no different from anyone else, really; because when it comes down to it, regardless of appearances, they really are just like the rest of us on this boat, if you'll pardon the expression." We share another smile at that, and I start feeling more confident. "Still, there are a few things you should know before you talk to them."

"Such as?" I lead questioningly.

"Well, first off, Wrex isn't going to be as talkative as either Garrus or Tali," the Commander begins. I had figured as much already, given his usual standoffish demeanor in the first game and what not, but I roll with it for the sake of staying in character. "Don't take it personally though, it's just how krogan are to pretty much everyone, even if he is getting better about it. Also, don't be surprised if he calls you "weak." Not that I expect us to be talking to him that much on this tour, but it's worth knowing beforehand. Just don't back down and don't let him see you sweat, and he shouldn't give you too much shit." A subtle smile crosses Shepard's expression as she moves on to another topic. "Garrus will probably be busy tinkering with the Mako's systems when we get down there. Sorry, not tinkering, "calibrating," I should say." She brings up her hands and air-quotes the word with an infectious grin. "He's not as rigid as most turians are, thank God, so you don't really need to worry about that. Just, don't expect him to get many human idioms you may come up with."

"How come?" Genuine curiosity this time, as I'm sure this is something the codex never really expanded upon in the game.

"Well, it sorta goes back to what I said about krogan tending to be a bit gruff towards people," Shepard elaborates. "It's more of a cultural thing than anything else. Turian culture is very strict, militaristic. Hell, their whole society pretty much revolves around the military, and everyone serves in some capacity. If a turian can walk and talk, then they're trained to fight. Even Garrus is ex-military, though he went to work of C-Sec on the Citadel when his tour-of-duty was up. Although, that has more to do with his family than anything else. But to the topic at hand, because their culture is centered around the military, making sure orders are given clearly is the best way to they can count on their subordinates to properly do their job. Ergo, slang, shorthand, and metaphors tend to be confusing for them. I'm not saying you need to dumb it down for him or anything, just don't expect him to understand right away."

"Got it," I say, glad that she cleared that up for me. "And Tali?"

"Tali's probably the one you're gonna get along with the easiest," the Commander says rather confidently. "She has to be one of the nicest people I've ever met, not to mention the smartest. Like I said, if we keep her on like Adams has been all but begging us to, the Tantalus drive will probably be operating at 100% capacity, 100% of the time." She gestures at my left arm. "If you want a good conversation starter, you can ask her about some of those apps and programs on your omni-tool that you're having trouble with."

I glance down at the limb in question before giving Shepard an understanding nod, filing that away for future reference. "Sure thing," I say with an affirming nod, which seems to be what the Commander was looking for, as she give me an approving smile before stepping back and returning to her initial spot on the railing. 'Yeah, I say that, but really I'm more nervous about meeting her than anyone else!' Having romanced her in the second game, there's bound to be some awkwardness there, albeit possibly one-sided on my part. 'I mean, it's Tali! She's one of my favorite romance-able characters in the series! The second she starts talking, her accent alone is likely to be the death of me, double that if she gets embarrassed for gushing over how awesome the Normandy is- not that I can blame her, because it's pretty freakin' awesome!' The sound of the shutter retracting thankfully derails this train of thought, signaling our arrival on the Engineering/Hangar deck. I break the nervous gaze I've been holding with my shoes this whole time, only to abruptly find myself at eye-level with a familiar- yet intimidating- amphibian maw.

"Gah!" I bark in surprise, taking a step back and clutching my chest dramatically before shooting the offending party a glare. "Don't do that! You almost made me jump out of my skin!"

Wrex glares back down at me and grunts with a hint of amusement. "Guess I'll have to try harder next time."

Shepard chuckles in amusement as she disembarks to stand next to me. "Hey, Wrex." The krogan turns his attentions to her and nods in greeting. "Where are you off to? Get tired watching Garrus rotate the Mako's tires for the ten millionth time?" A ravenous growling answers the Commander's question, Wrex smirking as he pats his stomach.

"Thought I'd head upstairs, see if you humans carry any decent grub on this ship." He chuckles deeply at both his own wit and Shepard's joke before turning his attentions to me. I suddenly feel incredibly small under his gaze, though for a krogan, that's hardly a difficult thing to do, what with their being bigger and bulkier than pretty much every other species in the galaxy. But, I will myself to stand firmly and do my best to make it look like I'm not intimidated by him, like Shepard advised. "So," Wrex says, crossing his arms as he gestures in my direction with his chin, "this the runt you and the turian brought back from Eletania?"

A pat on the back from the Commander makes me stiffen somewhat before remembering to keep cool. "The very same," Shepard confirms, turning to me. "Oz, meet Urdnot Wrex. Mercenary, battlemaster, and all-around badass." Wrex smirks proudly at that as she turns to him and makes the same introductory gesture towards me. "Wrex, Oz Hyland. Civilian, man out of time, and as of his release from stasis, newly-minted biotic."

There's a gleam of intrigue in his eyes at that, quickly hidden as he narrows them and looks me up and down in an appraising manner. 'God, I feel like I'm getting sized up at an auction or something,' I think, becoming increasingly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of someone who could literally crush my skull in his bare hands. Thankfully, Wrex seems satisfied- in the sense that he feels he's seen all he needs to see in his once over of my person- and backs off, shaking his head.

"You've got a bad habit of picking up strays, Shepard," the battlemaster says with a disapproving tone.

"Really now?" Shepard says sarcastically. "Huh, and here I thought it was the Quasar." Now, this catches me off-guard. Shepard with a gambling problem? I mean, sure, there were side-quests that involved playing Quasar for credits and XP in the game, but you never really heard about them getting hooked in it.

'Then again, the Normandy has several floors that aren't in the game and I'm technically a Splicer, so maybe I should keep an open mind,' I reason with a smirk as Shepard and Wrex snark back and forth.

"Joke all you want," the krogan shoots back, attempting to cover an amused snort at the Commander's sarcasm, "just don't come crying to me when he gets you all killed."

Quirking an eyebrow in genuine confusion at that, I decide to step up and see if I can actually talk to him at least. "How would I get her killed? I mean, I'm not exactly military, nor am I skilled enough with my biotics yet to actually do anything, even if she decided to let me tag along with you guys in the field." I think back to the training regimen waiting for inspection in my omni-tool for a second, to the Twins' cryptic back-and-forth in the med-bay and my visions. 'Though hopefully, that'll all change with training.'

"Exactly," Wrex says with a hint of a finality in his voice, casting a creepy, sidelong glance at me derisively. "You're useless in a fight. Weak, innocent, soft." He turns his attentions back to Shepard for a moment, gesturing at me off-handedly. "Keeping him onboard breeds in that kind of weakness, Shepard, mark my words."

"Your concerns are duly noted, Wrex," she replies firmly, crossing her arms as a seriousness crosses her brow that commands respect. "But still, this is my ship, and who I decide to keep on my crew is my decision, remember? Besides, that Prothean Beacon on Eden Prime?" She jerks her head in my direction. "Same thing with him. That means his visions could hold some information vital to our mission that mine don't. Meaning, he stays with us so Dr. T'Soni can have a look at him too. That, and I can't just let an untrained biotic wander around when there are three of us here who can teach him to get a handle on his powers better than most Alliance instructors. Understand?"

Wrex grunts in begrudging acknowledgement, giving me a deploring glare. "He's still soft. Wouldn't last a minute on Tuchanka."

'Okay, he's going to be insufferable if he keeps going on like this,' I think in annoyed irritation. 'Might as well nip this in the bud while we can, or at the very least curb the whole "weakness" thing somewhat.' Now it's my turn to narrow my eyes and cross my arms at him. "Given what I've read and seen, I have my doubt anyone outside the krogan or a total badass like the Commander here," I jerk my head in her direction, "could last more than a minute on Tuchanka, Wrex." Shepard looks at me like I'm crazy for a second, then smiles at my complement as I continue. "Besides, doesn't it seem a bit hypocritical to judge a person or species simply by physical appearance? I bet krogan get stereotyped as brutish, single-minded thugs, simply for being bigger and stronger than most other races." He grunts in agreement, a sly smirk crossing his lips as I list his strength as a positive. "And as for my supposed "innocence," I think you'll find that's hardly the case."

This seems to catch his interest for some reason and he unfolds his arms to get right in my face. I should be scared shitless right now, Wrex's rather threatening mug mere inches from me, but for some reason, I'm not. I stand my ground even as he snorts directly in my face. "Oh, really?" he poses in sarcastic disbelief.

"Yeah, really." I give him my rather sure smirk, trying my best to look and sound tougher than I really am. "I don't know how much of Earth's pop-culture has made it out this far in the universe, but you'd be surprised just how much of it addresses some pretty gruesome shit. For a while back there, around the 2010s if my fuzzy memory serves, we had a weird obsession with the deviant and the macabre. There were a number of serials about serial killers, psychopaths, crime scene investigation, sociopathic vigilantes, and a whole bunch of other bloody things. Because of that, even though I still haven't gotten all of my memories back, I can think of at least a couple of ways to torture someone that allows me to keep them alive- and in pain- for a substantial period of time. Little things like taking a joint off of someone's finger with a cigar cutter for each snide comment or minute of silence I don't get an answer, or scooping out someone's eye with a rusted spoon. Plus, thanks to the wonders of the extranet, I know at least one tactic you can use on a krogan." I lean forward slightly. "Is it true that, if you jam a knife under a krogan's head-plate in juuuust the right spot, you can pop it clean off like an old-fashioned bottlecap?"

I feel the slightest hint of satisfaction at what comes next, watching as Wrex's eyes widen and his hands begin to subconsciously inch up to his own head-plate before he catches himself. 'Thank you Zaeed, you crazy bastard.'

"Guess that answers that," Shepard chimes in.

Wrex's lips pull back in a snarl as he looks at both of us, glaring daggers as he waves a finger in either of our faces. "Not a word of this, to anyone. Got that?!" A nod from Shepard and myself seem to be enough for him, and the battlemaster calms down, his formerly tense shoulders relaxing once more. "Good." He turns to me with what I assume is a begrudging look as he answers the question. "Yeah, you can. The angle's pretty precise, and if you're not a krogan, you'd have to work the knife a bit, but it's possible."

"Seems like something you're pretty keen on keeping a secret, Wrex," Shepard notices, arching a brow at the krogan with intrigue.

"Would you want your enemies knowing they could bring you to your knees with a single threat?" Wrex shoots back, to which Shepard shrugs understandingly. "It's a cultural thing for krogan. They're a sign of masculinity, of respect. Without our plates, we can't headbutt, which is how our people- our males at least- establish dominance. The threat of losing them, it's enough to drive most krogan crazy."

Shepard gives him a sincere look. "Don't worry, Wrex." She looks at me before continuing, "We'll do our best to make sure this stays between the three of us."

"Right," I agree in earnest, miming pulling a zipper over my lips and tossing a key over my shoulder. "Mum's the word."

"If that means you'll keep quiet, then good," Wrex replies in satisfaction as he sends a glowering look in my direction. Shepard was right about human idioms and metaphors going over other species' heads, though apparently turians aren't the only ones to have trouble with them. Wrex backs off slightly and gives me another once over, though his gaze seems less harsh this time, for a krogan at least. "Guess you're not as innocent as you look, human. Still," he continues as he pushes past me on his way to the elevator, shoving me rather roughly against the shoulder as he does, "doesn't change the fact that you're weak."

"Maybe," I acquiesce with a half-hearted shrug as the lift's shutter closes, ignoring the twinge in my shoulder from her he bumped into me, "but still, doesn't mean I can't change that."

Whether he heard that last bit or not, I have no idea; though I doubt he would ever properly acknowledge it if he did, the gruff bastard that he is at this point in the series. With the elevator finally closed and Wrex out of sight, I allow myself to wince in visible pain and rub my likely bruised shoulder in discomfort. "Well," I say with a relieved sigh as I turn to Shepard, who looks rather pleased, "that was a thing."

The Commander chuckles and shakes her head at that. "It sure was," she says with amused pride as she signals me to follow her lead and we head out of the elevator corridor towards the drive core. "You have to be the first civilian I've ever seen that's been able to rile a krogan that badly. In their language, you've got a quad on you, Oz. Even if Wrex won't acknowledge it, I sure as Hell will. That took a lot of guts." I give her a look of false confusion at the "quad" crack, which she thankfully addresses. "Krogan internal biology has pretty much double of everything, so yeah. You do the math on that one."

My best weirded out look seems to satisfy her, if the grin is anything to go off of. Still, that doesn't answer the other question I find preoccupying my interests at the moment. "You said something back there about Quasar," I begin in a leading manner, hoping she'll pick up on where I'm going with this and I won't have to ask the actual question.

She nods in confirmation. "Yeah, but don't worry, I'm not putting up you or the Normandy up as collateral the next time we're on the Citadel and I feel like hitting the Silversun Strip." The Commander smiles wistfully as we head down towards Engineering. "No, when I was a kid, my dad taught me the finer points of Quasar for the sake of fun. When I enlisted with the Alliance, and especially after I joined N7, my skills turn out to be much more profitable than originally intended. I can't count how many poor schmucks I took to the cleaners over a "friendly" game of Quasar." A comically evil chuckle escapes her lips as she rubs her hands together menacingly. "Good times, good times."

I smile back at this, enjoying this more playful side of the Commander. Again, another positive of being here in person is that everyone feels more real; even if Bioware did their best to convey the same thing through the game, it's nothing compared to actually being here and talking to people like Shepard and the others. "So," I say as we near the door to Engineering, "you're something of a card shark, are you?"

Shepard smirks smarmily in my direction. "Only if we're playing with cards, Oz. Quasar's a whole different breed of animal." She adds with feinted innocence, "How could I be a card shark if there are no cards to shark with? The very idea." That playful, Cheshire-like grin just confirms it.

"Commander," Joker's voice hails over Shepard's omni-tool, halting our progress just outside the door to the drive core as she brings it up. "Just thought you'd want an update, we're beginning our approach run to the Hercules Relay. We'll be in the Artemis Tau Cluster in two shakes."

"Thanks, Joker." Shepard replies. "Much appreciated."

"I aim to please, boss," the flight lieutenant snarks back. "Besides, what with you showing the new kid around, I thought he'd like a heads up for his first real jump out of "ooze sleep." Didn't want to spook him with what comes next."

I start to protest before Joker cuts me off again with the countdown to contact with the relay and our eventual jump. "Hitting the relay in three... two... one..." I feel my whole body tense with anticipation, tinged with more than a hint of excitement.

'I'm about to pass through an actual mass relay!' I geek out to myself, doing my utmost to restrain my overwhelming desire to bounce up and down excitedly. 'This is going to be so cool!'

It starts with a subtle vibrating sensation, one that I feel ripple through me from the front backwards as we hit the relay and make the jump, followed by a tingling akin to an electric shock- only less painful and more relaxing, like when I got to try out the TENS Unit my mom had to use after the accident messed up her back. And then, just as soon as they came, either sensation vanished, gradually lessening until they were utterly gone. Both had lasted little more than a moment, really, but my anxiousness probably helped make it feel like they'd endured a bit longer. Joker's voice over the Commander's omni-tool snaps me out of my stupor.

"Jump successful. Ladies and gentlemen, let me be the first to welcome you to the Artemis Tau Cluster. Four systems, nineteen planets, and somewhere out there, one Prothean expert named Dr. T'Soni."

"Nice work, Joker," Shepard compliments sincerely. "Set a course for the nearest system and planet, let's start looking and hope we get a bite. Keep me posted."

"Aye, aye, Commander." With that, the channel shuts off and the Commander's omni-tool goes silent.

'... That's it?' I think incredulously, a bit shocked at how simple that was, not to mention a bit let down by that very same simplicity. I was expecting something a bit more dramatic, flashier. 'Man, what a rip-off. Still,' I give a mental shrug of resignation, 'I guess not everything can be a Lucas-esque hyperspace tunnel into the unknown.'

Shepard gives me an expectant look. "Everything you remember?"

I give her my best not-disappointed nod of confirmation, not wanting her to catch on to my expectance of something greater as a newcomer to this world. "For the most part, fuzziness of said memory aside." Thankfully, this seems satisfactory and she beckons me forward, the Engineering room's door sliding open with a hiss.

AN: Apologies for the late update, True Believers, but I've been swamped with real-life stuff as of late. That aside, it looks like things are still going well for our hero. The jump through the Relay might not have been what Oz was expecting, but at least he's managed to make an impression on two more squadmates. However, there are still two more members of Shepard's team that he needs to meet on the Normandy's lower levels. How will they react to meeting our intrepid hero for the first time (or the second, as far as one of them is concerned)? What will Oz' reaction be to seeing more of his favorite characters from the ME Universe? Don't touch that dial/mouse, and stay tuned in to find out! Again, many thanks to my beta-reader for their help with this chapter, and thanks to all of you as well for your support, True Believers. Just like before, I'll try to have the next chapter out as soon as possible, time and tide providing. Please feel free to R&R as you see fit; constructive criticism is always welcome, trolls get crushed by their own bridges, and flames get put to a more practical use as fuel for thermal clips and incendiary rounds. Until next time. EXCELSIOR!