A/N: The SR character list from Ch9 has been adjusted slightly. Make sure to go back and reorient yourself!

TEN: THE INDUCTION

April 8th, 2182

As of three days ago, Assessment Phase was over. Having endured through the worst that Paryn had thrown my way, my performance finally had won Pallin's reluctant and unprotesting acceptance, if nothing else.

The political pressure probably helped.

Now, after a weekend's break, I was stepping back up to the plate, ready to start Training Phase. My anticipation was only magnified by the contents of the table Paryn and I were standing in front of.

Guns. Gleaming, shiny guns.

To be fair, I was a bit of a firearms aficionado. While I hadn't owned one due to my age before my untimely demise, I had shot and handled them enough times to feel comfortable. I was a reasonably good shot with a pistol and better still with a rifle. Shotguns, on the other hand? Don't even ask...

Of course, shooting at a paper target with a 9mm handgun or ringing a steel gong at 200 meters with a .308 rifle was leagues away from the world of combat shooting, where targets were constantly moving around and shooting back at you all the while. But the principles of shooting still applied, and I was confident enough in my ability to learn and adapt.

"Seen any of this before?" Paryn asked offhandedly, noticing my reaction.

"Yeah." I replied. "I'm familiar with the rules of safety and the fundamentals, but it's probably best if you go over everything anyway, just to be sure." Heat sinks, ammo blocks...different ball game from magazines and individual cartridges.

Paryn nodded, and moved to collect a pair of sleek-looking assault rifles. "We'll start out with the assault rifle, then. This," she said, checking the safeties, "is the Crossfire series from Armax Arsenal. Higher grade than the Avenger models that most officers on Enforcement carry - optimized triggers, upgraded cooling systems, reduced recoil, and reflex sights in place of the normal-issue 3x scope. SR assaulters are trained in instinctive shooting, however, so they barely even use the sights…"

I followed with interest, drawing more parallels in my mind between this and special operations units of my time. This just gets better and better.

With a flare of light, Paryn opened her omni-tool and produced a small tool of some kind. "However, we're not going to bother with any of that right now…" A quick application of the tool to a set of latches on one of the rifles, and the reflex sighting system slid off cleanly, leaving a set of stock iron sights. "Today, it's back to basics." The other rifle's sights came loose. The turian checked both rifles again, and then handed one to me. "Safety's on."

I took the rifle by the stock and forend, conscientiously keeping my finger off the trigger. A quick visual check to ensure the selector switch was on SAFE. Good to go. I tested the weight, lifting the rifle up and down. Not bad at all. Lightweight, but I could definitely feel its presence.

We walked over to the shooting range, passing Sheoquol, the salarian sniper. He was sighted in on a moving target a hundred meters downrange, but he did turn long enough to give us an affable nod. I waved back, and he returned to his scope.

At Lane 7, Paryn pulled up a display and entered a few variables. A holographic silhouette target appeared five meters downrange.

Behind me, I heard the boom of Sheoquol's sniper rifle. I glanced over at his target, aided by my enhanced eyesight. Perfect headshot. I snorted amusedly. A hundred meters is child's play for any trained sniper. He could probably do this with his eyes closed. I wonder if there's a proper range for long-distance shooting on the Citadel? For a sniper, this distance is tiny.

I shook my head and turned my attention back to my own target. "I don't need to go over the range safety rules, do I?" Paryn said pointedly. I shook my head, and she stepped to the side. "Target is the head. Fire when ready." she said.

I instinctually began to reach up to make sure my earplugs were in tight, before remembering the genetic enhancements - they would deaden loud noises while still allowing me to hear normal conversation. I don't need earplugs. Right.

"What's wrong?" Paryn asked, noticing my movement.

My heart jumped. Shit. "Got a bit of an itch." I said quickly. "Gone now." I avoided her eyes and looked back at my target. Taking ahold of the pistol grip, I tucked the stock firmly into my shoulder. Then I flicked the selector switch to SEMI and sighted in on the rings around the target's face. Slow press to the rear, and…

CRACK. A hole appeared about one inch high. I scowled to myself and adjusted, then squeezed again. CRACK.

Dead center.

"Good adjustment." Paryn muttered. I smirked, and for the next two minutes, I steadily put the next ten rounds into a tight one-inch group around the first, taking care to hold the sights on the exact same place each time. It wasn't exactly hard - five meters really isn't a challenge for any reasonably competent shooter.

"Moving it out to ten." the turian said, and adjusted the target. My shot groups widened at first, but with some pacing and slowing of my breath, I narrowed them back down to just above an inch.

"You have an interesting grip." Paryn commented. I looked down at my left hand, whose thumb was wrapped completely over the top of the handguard in a thumb-over-bore grip. This was contrary to every other SR operator I had seen, who held their guns underneath the barrel. Blame Magpul Dynamics, I thought amusedly.

I shrugged. "It's something I picked up. It works better for me at close range - lot more intuitive for snap-shooting. For long-range, I'd probably stick with the traditional stance." I wasn't just pulling that out of my arse, either - it helped a lot in bringing the rifle up more quickly at close range.

We moved on to twenty-five meters, then forty, and finished off at fifty. Naturally, I wasn't shooting extremely tight groups at those ranges, but I managed to keep everything relatively compact. Paryn looked rather pleased as the rifle session ended at noon.

Following a short chat with Aeshia a few weeks back, I knew for certain that my physical strength had been augmented slightly among other things, like reflexes and endurance. The differences weren't huge, but they were noticeable. In terms of shooting, I was able to minimize movement greatly and keep the sights almost still on target, which greatly helped my aim. It was a strange feeling. I hadn't touched a real steel firearm for almost six months before I'd died, and yet here I was, carrying on like nothing had happened.

However, while my target accuracy was good, for practical purposes, it was combat accuracy that mattered - the ability to put rounds on target quickly yet accurately enough to stop a threat. If a criminal was drawing a gun of his own, I wouldn't exactly have the ability to take time to line up my shot. My shooting would have to be done off of instinct and muscle memory borne of training, and that, Paryn told me, was the focus of the SR assaulters. This would come naturally with practice - for now, it was important to nail down the fundamentals. For the time being, I continued with accurate, unhurried shots - and had fun doing it.

Slow is smooth and smooth is fast.

After lunch, we moved onto handguns; as with the rifle, accuracy was the emphasis for the time being. Towards the end of the day, Paryn took me to the armory to get me outfitted.

Standard SR gear included medium-grade armor from Aldrin Labs, painted in blue and black. Surprisingly, it wasn't too hard to move around in, due to the lightweight materials used. A pistol holster was mounted on my right thigh, a combat knife on my left, and pouches for flashbangs and other kit on my left hip. Just like in Mass Effect, weapon mounts were located on the back. Kinetic barriers provided additional protection from incoming rounds. A helmet with targeting suites and other electronic goodies completed the ensemble.

It even played music.

I was issued a proper C-Sec ID as well, having been entered into the officer database at the end of Assessment Phase. Currently, the ID was labeled 'in-training', but once I was a fully qualified SR officer, I would have all the rights and responsibilities accorded to my position, including a license to carry a sidearm concealed and the obligation to respond to any distress calls in my vicinity.

Training Phase continued in this vein for the next few weeks, advancing from shooting holes in static targets, to timed drills where I would have to let off a shot within three seconds, to exercises in which I walked away from the target, then spun and fired on command. Then we started the whole process over again with the introduction of the double tap - two shots, one right after the other. After I had mastered this, I started shooting on the move - advancing towards, parallel, or away from a target. Later on, we threw multiple targets into the mix, working on transitioning from target to target. I ran all of these drills with both weapons, rifle and handgun. Naturally, my sidearm would be my fallback if my rifle overheated or malfunctioned, so I had to be just as good with it as I was with the rifle.

And I was doing well. Apart from physical conditioning in the morning, we had been spending the entire day on the range for three weeks straight, working really, really hard. My palm was starting to develop a blister from the constant pounding of the handgun. However, my shooting ability was spiking upwards rapidly. Muscle memory is all about repetition - do anything over and over again at eight hours at a time for three weeks straight and you're likely to become very good at it. I was at a point where I could place a double tap dead on target at ten meters with barely a thought. Just as well, since the start of the fourth week was my introduction to the Killhouse.

April 29th, 2182

"This looks really realistic." I commented as Paryn led me through the rooms. They were fully decked out with furniture and everything, all the way down to the plates on the kitchen table.

She nodded. "Our training has to be as realistic as possible. That means replicating everything down to the smallest detail, which includes our enemies and our hostages." Paryn tapped a few commands on her omni-tool, and the holographic targets I had seen used before in the CQB drills sprang up around us, unmoving.

I flinched as I noticed one of the human hostages - her face was the splitting image of one of my past friends, right down to the auburn eyes that somehow managed to convey an uplifting sense of warmth even through the projection, and the delighted smile that never failed to make me do the same. A brief twinge of hurt passed through me at the reminder of someone else I would never see again.

It served to highlight just how good the simulation was.

I started off slow, walking through with the full target setup and learning how to clear the rooms piece by piece. My time on the range was soon to pay off with the introduction of hostages thrown in amongst the opposition targets - sometimes, the head of a hostage-taker was the only part of the body visible behind a hostage, thus necessitating that SR operators went for the more precise headshot at close-quarters. I was also instructed on how to advance through a room in a way that presented me the clearest shots with least risk to the hostages while simultaneously reducing the amount of possible return fire.

Flashbangs were introduced (even through our insulated helmets, they were damn loud) as well as a piece of door-opening tech called the Masterkey, which upon application linked to the Citadel's master control systems and overrode all possible locks on a door, then forced it to open at extremely high speed. In case the door's electronics were fried or impassable, we would use very precise breaching charges.

So after absorbing all of that information and testing the equipment a few times, I was stacked up by the ground floor entrance to the Killhouse, fully geared up and ready to go for my first live CQB exercise. The exercise was two rooms, five tangos, three hostages. For now, I would be running solo - I would learn how to work as part of the team later.

Paryn's voice came through my radio once I signaled that I was ready. "Standby." she said coolly. I reached into my pouch and pulled out a Masterkey and a flashbang. I leaned forward and slapped the unlocking device directly on the door lock as instructed. Since it wouldn't be particularly efficient for me to juggle two devices, Paryn was remotely controlling the Masterkey's activation.

"Three…"

I twisted the rotating pin on top of the flashbang and prepared to pull.

"Two.."

I tensed, the springs in my feet coiling.

"One. Execute execute execute!"

On the second execute, I pulled the pin. At the first, the door punched open, and I flung it inside. It bounced off the wall and rolled as I seized my assault rifle.

BANG. The flashbang roared, and I launched myself into the fray.

Directly in front, two simulated criminals staggered on their feet, hands over their eyes and ears. Engage engage my brain screamed even as I leveled the rifle and sent two shots crack-crack into the head of the first. The rifle snapped left and barked twice again, dropping the second threat. I stormed past and into the next room, jumping over a discarded chair on the way.

That almost became my undoing as a screaming, knife-wielding female maniac appeared right in the doorway, too close to bring my rifle to bear. My mind blurred, and I parried her frenzied stab aside with the barrel, then slammed the butt into her temple. She went down with a splitting headache that was promptly terminated by a four-round burst into the neck and head.

Unfortunately, this speedbump meant that the remaining two criminals had plenty of time to ready themselves, and several rounds splashed across my shields as I entered the second room. I immediately took in a snapshot of the two criminals standing over three hostages on the floor, one of them using a girl as cover-

-the splitting image of my friend-

I fired twice. The rounds left my friend unscathed and hit the hostage-taker, but the pistol swung in a wide arc as he fell and his fingers tightened reflexively - discharging the gun right into her back.

My heart stopped a split second, and I could swear her eyes widened in shock as she fell.

I faintly heard myself yell something even as I whipped my rifle right and emptied five shots into the last criminal, who collapsed in a heap. "Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck…" I muttered frantically as I made my way over to my friend, expecting the worst. A ring of blood was pooling on the front of her shirt and her breathing was coming out in ragged gasps. I opened my mouth to shout for a medic-

"Weapons cold. CQB exercise completed." the VI announced dispassionately.

I blinked, and looked down again. As the adrenaline bled off, I could now see the thin wavy lines indicating the presence of a hologram. It was just an exercise, it wasn't real... my friend wasn't dead after all.

She wasn't even in this universe.

I slumped against the doorway and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to ward off the immense headache that was screaming in like a freight train.

"What was that?"

It was the calmness of Paryn's voice that made it all so much worse. Had she been yelling at me, I could handle that. But her voice was at the same pleasant lilt that it was always was, and she was simply asking the same question that I was trying to answer myself: What was that?

"For the nearly two months that you've been here," Paryn continued when I didn't respond right away, "I've gathered a picture of you as a very collected and composed person. Whatever happened just now, I know it wasn't normal."

A pause. I sighed.

"I'm listening." Paryn said patiently.

"One of the hostages…she looked exactly like an old friend." I answered truthfully, having taken the pause to consider my words. "A really close friend. She was taken in a slave raid a few years ago. I was there."

Obviously, that last part was a lie.

"So when that hostage went down, you had a flashback of sorts." Paryn said comprehendingly.

"Yeah." I replied. Another pause. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"I understand." she said. "Shall we start lunch a bit earlier and save the exercises for later? Clear your head a bit?"

"That'd be great, thanks." I sighed, giving a weak smile. Paryn nodded in understanding and left.

Once she was gone, an immense feeling of weariness washed over me. That hit way too close to home. To see her just so...casually taken away like that...god, that's going to haunt my dreams for weeks.

And yet I still have a job to do.

I shook my head in frustration and stood up. Maybe a bite to eat would take my mind off things.

Sometimes, I could be a very talkative person. Other times, I prefered to just sit back and observe, gathering in my surroundings without saying a word. This occasion counted more towards the second.

I was sitting at a table and eating my lunch, a levo-amino sandwich with now-not-so-mystery meat that Carehn had brought for me as a joke.

"Mhmph." I uttered appreciatively, taking my second bite of the sandwich. "Thish is goood. What is it?"

"Varren meat." Carehn replied, completely deadpan.

I stopped chewing and examined my sandwich incredulously for all of six seconds. Then I shrugged. At hunt camp, I've had deer, raccoon, coyote, pheasant...honestly, how much different can this be?

I took another bite, and Carehn's jaw dropped. I mock-sweetly smiled at his astonished expression and made a show of swallowing. Somehow, he groaned and chuckled at the same time. "Damn...does anything ever get a rise out of you?"

Dead friends, sure. I thought darkly. I scowled at myself, waving the thought away. Carehn noticed, and was looking at me quizzically before Paryn elbowed him and whispered into his ear. He looked back at me. You okay?

I nodded. Yeah. Dealing with it.

I wasn't much in the mood for conversation after that, but even if I had been, I would have kept to myself. I normally ate lunch alone or with Paryn, but due to the early lunch, the rest of Team Five was sitting with us, laughing and talking with their buddies from Team Six, who shared the Division Bay with us (hence the label Division Bay 5/6). It was mostly small talk, and given that I knew about but didn't really know the men and women of Team Five, I didn't feel comfortable joining in. Add to that the fact that I was horrible at small talk, and there I was, sitting a little off to the side and eating by myself while listening idly to the conversation.

"Has anyone seen the new Blasto?" Atim asked eagerly.

"Spirits, not this again…" Nithiluay groaned. "Kids these days…"

"Hey, I thought it was good." the younger turian protested.

"You seen that new line of Spectre pistols?" Carehn was saying around a mouthful of his own sandwich, nudging Sheoquol.

The salarian sighed. "Don't tell me. It's been torture as well, looking at those shiny pieces knowing I'll never even get to touch them. Especially their rifles."

Then, I was ambushed.

"Hi." Seruai said cheerfully, sitting down beside me.

I blinked.

She smiled apologetically. "I was hoping to get to know you better, since you're on track to join the team and all."

"It's fine, you just...surprised me, is all." I said slowly. Uh...what to say…

"So, how has your day been so far?" she asked, digging into her meal.

"Okay, I guess." I shrugged.

"Just okay?" Seruai queried when I didn't elaborate.

"Yeah."

She didn't seem to know how to respond to that. I felt bad for being such a terrible conversationalist, but the incident back in the killhouse had cast a cloud over my day, and it needed time to dissipate on its own.

Without offense to Seruai, I was slightly relieved when Sheoquol tapped me on the shoulder. "You'll be joining me the day after tomorrow for sniper training." he informed me. I took it in with a nod and a small grin, which the sniper returned before resuming his meal.

I glanced over at Seruai, who seemed slightly perturbed at my unresponsiveness, casting the occasional confused look my way. I sighed to myself, remembering another friend who I had met in much the same way; starting out with the same awkward conversations yet by the end of the year becoming a person whom I considered to be one of my closest confidants. Seruai reminded me of her in more ways than one.

I sighed again, and made a mental note to apologize when I was in a better mood.

After lunch, I was in the locker room, sorting my equipment into some semblance of order when I felt a hand come down firmly on my shoulder and spin me around. I instinctively batted it to the side and leapt back, ready to fight. Instead, I saw Tonadim standing in front of me with a scowl on his face.

For the past few weeks, the abrasive turian had been constantly making snide comments about me and my race whenever Carehn and Paryn weren't around. He didn't particularly care if I heard him or not, and it was starting to grate on my nerves.

Oh, great. Just what I needed.

He examined me disdainfully. "Human."

I rolled my eyes. "That is my species, yes."

"Show some respect." he snapped. "It's only by the graces of the Council that we didn't pound your little home into dust."

I simmered, my hands balling into fists. Not in the mood for this. "Really. Good for you, sport." I snarked.

"Don't pull this shit with me, human." he hissed, getting up in my face close enough for me to see every detail of his red facepaint. I resisted the urge to reach for my combat knife. "I know what your kind does to everything it gets your hands on."

What's your fucking problem? "By all means, enlighten me." I returned acidically.

"Reckless. Entitled. Impulsive. Arrogant enough to think you can open mass relays at whim and petition the Council for membership when you haven't even been here for a century. Does that ring a bell?"

I raised my hands in frustration even as my face took on a stony expression. "And this relates to me how?"

"HOW DOES THIS RELATE?" he suddenly shouted, making me take an involuntary step back. "You're a textbook example of the human fucking race! You come waltzing into SR thinking you can just take your place among us and no one will bat an eye? You think you can just push veteran officers and friends aside? That you can take all the glory? Well, FUCK YOU!"

Outside the door, something clanged against the wall.

My restraint disintegrated. "Right back at you, you bigoted arsehole." I snapped. "How much have we interacted? Maybe a few exchanges? You commenting on my race every chance you get? You dare to fucking judge me based on that? Fuck YOU! You don't know me!"

"You little-" he began.

I cut him off, my berserk button still firmly engaged. "And you know what? Shanxi happened TWENTY-FIVE FUCKING YEARS AGO! I wasn't even fucking born yet, so I didn't have anything to do with it! And the same applies now! I'm not whispering into the ears of the Alliance Parliament, telling them what to do! I'm just your average Joe, trying to live out my life without running into ASSHOLES like you! I don't need your shit! Go fuck yourself."

Tonadim looked like he was about to hit me. I tensed, waiting for things to get ugly-

And suddenly, he remembered where he was. Instead of attacking me, he let out a guttural sound that didn't even pretend to be a word, and snarling, turned and stalked away.

I slowly released my breath. Good thing he caught himself...I don't think he was quite willing to risk getting kicked off the team.

Then I realized that the door was open. A stunned Seruai stood there staring at me; her mouth agape over a set of armor balanced precariously in her hands.

I tried to say something, but my throat stuck. Eventually, I just threw my hands up exasperatedly and spun on my heel to leave, casting an apologetic look her way.

Her confused gaze followed me all the way to the door.

A/N: So, with a slight delay due to my end-of-the-year finals, we've hit the ten chapter milestone! A big thank you goes out to all my readers for your patience and loyalty. Special thanks go to those who have stuck around since the beginning and consistently given me feedback on every chapter - you guys know who you are, and you guys rock.

I realize that I'm being very detailed in my description of SR operations, but I want to establish our setting firmly, so my apologies if some of you go a little cross-eyed at the technical stuff.

For now, I need to inform you guys that this chapter - Chapter 10 - will be my last update for approximately the next month and a half to two months. I'll be out for two of those weeks backpacking/camping, and thus won't have access to my computer. That of course throws off the time I get to write, so I'll be going dark for a while. But I WILL be back.

Now is probably also a good time as any to inform you readers that I have decided to split the Temporal Leap continuity into five separate parts. Incipiens is the first of these, covering the time before Mass Effect 1 - thus, we won't be seeing any familiar faces for a while, at least not until the second installment rolls around. Therefore, the listing of Liara and Shep on the main summary is a bit misleading. Just a heads up.

That is all.

*awkward beat*

I should go.

EDIT: I just looked this morning, and holy crap, we've broken both 100 favorites AND 10K views for the entire story! Man - when I started in January, I had no idea this project would become so big, or that I would receive such a positive response from the fanfiction community. I am truly humbled. Thank you, each and every one of you.