Author's notes: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3 and all related characters and trademarks are property of EA/Bioware. Rated M for language, violence and suggestive themes.

Chapter 49: Council Mission Two: Krogan Weapons Dealer

Dark gloom filled the narrow service tunnel, broken up by a rhythmic, pulsing light that raced down its length, a side effect of untold amounts of power flowing through the countless wires lining the tunnel's sides, the power itself a by product of the Normandy's drive core creating the Mass Effect fields that gave the ship momentum, created its defensive barriers and simulated a reasonable amount of gravity for the crew. The light was accompanied by the soothing, almost melodious whomm, whomm, of the drive core, the sound of dozens of deck plates, rivets and bulkheads vibrating in harmony. Behind this dominant sound lurked a tangle of other, smaller noises: The hum of wires, the rattle of pipes, the occasional spang of a metal section heating or cooling, depending on any of the multitude of processes the ship performed every moment of every day just to remain operational. Normally this orchestral harmony was hidden from the ears of the crew. But here, deep within the inner workings of the frigate, the din rose to almost deafening levels.

Through this neatly arranged chaos moved a single figure, clambering down the tunnel on hands and knees. A faint glow emanated from the red-tinted faceplate, casting unearthly shadows wherever the figure looked. Two eyes, shining like a pair of bright stars, stared out from behind the mask, scanning the tunnel's sides for any irregularities.

The arc-welder was both blinding and deafening as it sputtered to life, a white-hot lance of concentrated flame searing metal as it sealed up a split in the housing of some vital component. The Quarian wielding the tool ignored the sparks, his face and body protected by his suit, well adapted to enduring such tasks. Even the hottest of sparks left nary a mark of carbon scoring on the hardy suit.

Jano started at the sudden screech of grinding metal, twisting in the narrow confines of the tunnel to face the source of the noise just as the metal deck plate above his position shifted, revealing the open space of the Engineering Deck through the tangle of wires and pipes. Beyond the open hatch, the pulsing orb of the Eezo core shimmered quietly.

As the Quarian turned to the new opening, a dark silhouette eclipsed the view of the drive core as someone leaned down to peer through the net of wiring.

"Commander?" Jano asked as his eyes picked out the shadowed features. "There something I can do for you?"

"Yeah, actually." Shepard answered, his voice a little rough. "You got a moment?"

Moments later, the HUD in Jano's suit informed him that the Commander's vital signs were somewhat off, quickly leading the Quarian to the conclusion that his Commander was suffering from the after-effects from a bout of heavy drinking the previous night, an all too common occurrence in the past few days. Although the funeral seemed to have eased the Commander's pain over the loss of their Batarian comrade, Jano could see the rising costs of the war sitting ever heavier on his shoulders. It was a change the rest of the squad had noted in their leader, a subtle muted quality to his normally overpowering confidence. While Garrus and Kaidan had tried to soothe their doubt with bold words, many still held some reservations, concerned that the strain was too much even for the mighty Commander to withstand.

These reservations running through Jano's mind, the Quarian squirmed around the wires, finding his way to the open deck plate so he could climb up into the drive core chamber to join the Commander.

"So… what did you want to talk about?" He asked, a little nervously.

"The Council have asked us to gather some intel for them." Shepard explained, brandishing a datapad. "They need information on a weapon smuggling ring. We've got the location of a depot they operate out of, and the Council have asked that we send in a specialist to extract some vital information on key members of the ring. Fences, merchants, the transports they use, favoured clients, the works."

"So you want me to accompany your squad on this?" Jano asked. "Serve as escort and backup for the specialist?"

"Not exactly. I want you to be the specialist leading this mission." Shepard explained. "I've got some matters to attend to here before we set off for uncharted space. A couple of things to nail down with Wrex, some supplies we need, things like that. We don't know what we'll find when we get to the ruins the Revenant saw in his memories, so we need to be prepared. But this matter needs attending to before the intel goes stale, even if I can't go myself."

"But… surely one of your other specialists would be better suited to this?" Jano asked, his trepidation rising. Being asked to lead his own team was far worse than anything else he could have imagined that the Commander might have wanted of him.

"I need as many techs as I can here, working to get the Normandy back up to full strength." Shepard explained. "I figured a Quarian could handle any challenges thrown at them with the minimum of backup."

"I don't know if you've noticed, Commander, but I'm not the most technically focused of Quarians." Jano objected, grasping for something, anything, to convince the Commander that he was making a mistake, but Shepard would not be moved from his decision.

"You'll be fine, Jano." He assured. "As a Quarian you can out-hack any other member of my crew, save maybe Legion, but they're tied up with running through EDI's blue box for errors. You're my best bet." The Quarian remained silent for a moment until Shepard patted his shoulder. "You'll be fine. Besides, you won't be alone. I'm sending Kaidan and Jacob with you to watch your back."

Jano felt the urge to maintain his protest, but realised that there was no reasonable argument to counter the Commander with. Shepard was wisely choosing the remain focused on the Normandy's priority mission while making sure that the Council's requests were dealt with, regardless of how comparatively unimportant they may have seemed. Only a small team would be needed, and even Jano had to admit that his hacking skills were above those of the average soldier, given his heritage. But the Quarian was not totally oblivious to the ulterior motive behind the Commander's request. Shepard was sounding him out, trying to ascertain the full range of his abilities. As a new member of the squad, he remained somewhat of an unknown. This was his chance to prove himself.

Armed with this knowledge, the Quarian relaxed, his quiet sigh muted by the filter in his mask. He looked up into the face of his Commander, nodding his assent. Shepard, aware of the short-lived hesitation, nodded his approval at the young alien's acceptance of his duties.

"Good. Get whatever gear you need together. I'll have the crew get the shuttle ready for you."

~o~0~o~

Just under an hour later, the Normandy's elevator opened to allow Jano to step out into the Hangar Bay, carrying a pair of crates rather awkwardly, their shape making them difficult to hold onto.

"Damn. I never realised this was going to be a long trip."

Jacob's words made the Quarian jump, uncharacteristically distracted by the task before him. The alien turned to see the good-natured Human striding towards him, taking one of the crates with ease, his five digits better suited for finding a solid purchase to hold onto than the Quarian's three. Even so, the heavily muscled soldier struggled under the weight off his new burden.

"Woah! You pack the kitchen sink, too?"

"Kitchen… sink?" Jano asked uncertainly. "I believe that the galley's fixtures are a part of the ship. They cannot be removed from the vessel. Besides, I can't really see what kind of application-"

"Easy, Jano." Jacob chuckled. "It's just an expression. You just seem to be… overly prepared, is all."

"I have no idea what to expect." Jano defended. "I didn't want to find myself needing something and not have it."

"So what exactly have we got here?"

"Oh, you know… spare ammo, field survival kits, air scrubbers, gun lubricant, an atmospheric tent-"

"Wait, what?" Jacob interjected. "An atmo bubble? Isn't our destination oxygen-nitrogen?"

"Well… yes, but-"

"And gun lubricant?"

"If our weapons jam-"

"That's why we bring spares."

"And if we're stranded out there for-"

"Then the Normandy will come by to pull our asses out of the fire within a couple of days." Jacob stopped beside the shuttle, placing his crate down carefully. "Look, you're never going to manage to carry this out into the field. You're going to have to find a way to cut down."

"What would you suggest?" The Quarian asked nervously.

"Well, for a start…" The soldier opened the crate, sorting through its contents, removing a large number of items. "The bubble we'll definitely not need. Lubricant, the hydraulic jack, definitely the minifacturing units."

"But what-"

"Our omnitools can handle most of our immediate minifacturing requirements. For anything bigger, we'll either improvise or do without." Jacob delved back into the crate. "The thermal survival gear can stay behind, as can the solar shields. The dossier says that we'll be landing in a location with sub-tropical temperatures and no anomalous solar activity. And as for- what is this?"

Jacob lifted the offending article out of the crate, a much smaller black box with a pair of secure clasps on one side. Balancing it on the corner of the crate, he cracked it open to reveal three rows of six shining silver orbs. Jano shuffled his feet awkwardly as he offered an explanation.

"They're high-yield grenades. I took some of our normal stock and applied a few upgrades we've learned to make on the Flotilla."

"What kind of upgrades?"

"Just a little boost to the payload. On the fleet, we treat the explosive core with raw antimatter to give it some more kick, then rewire the fuse to deliver a stronger charge. Boosts the grenade's yield threefold."

"…I guess we can find room for them somewhere." Jacob said after a moment's pause, replacing the box in the now much emptier crate. "Are these all of them?"

"There's just those, plus my own supply of twenty." Jano explained. "I've got those on my person. Figured it'd save on crate space."

"Twenty grenades? What about saving space for spare clips?"

"I've got those, too."

"MREs?"

"Yes."

"Medi-gel?"

"Yes."

"How can you have enough room for all of that?"

"Pockets." The Quarian shrugged. "Our enviro-suits have quite a lot of them."

Jacob, unable to counter the simple statement, settled for shrugging and nodding silently as he took Jano's second crate, stowing it in the back of the shuttle with the first one. A scant few seconds later, the third member of their party arrived, the Commander in tow. As Kaidan set about stowing his own equipment, Shepard nodded to Jano.

"We'll be in orbit over Tuchanka for the next two days. Time enough for you to get to Trudd's compound, get the intel we're after, and get out. We'll meet up with you at the Mass Relay in the Pylos Nebula."

"We'll do our best not to be late." Jano promised. "And to bring the shuttle back in one piece."

"Well, if we do we'll have a better track record than the Commander, anyway." Kaidan interjected, stepping up next to the Quarian. "You've got to have destroyed… what, three shuttles? And that's saying nothing about the Mako."

"Hey!" Shepard chuckled good-naturedly. "I never once totalled the Mako."

"No, but that's a testament to the old machine's construction, not your driving." Kaidan smirked.

"You're just jealous." The Commander laughed, turning to his Quarian comrade. "Don't listen to a word he says, Jano. He's a damn dirty liar."

"I'll bear that in mind." Jano chuckled.

"Alright," Shepard said, clapping his hands together. "You ready?"

"As we'll ever be." Kaidan said. "The shuttle's good to go, and we didn't need much in the way of supplies, so loading up didn't take long."

"Good." Shepard said, glancing to Jano. "And you? You ready to take charge of your first mission?"

"As I'll ever be." The Quarian sighed. "I'm sure Kaidan and Jacob can help with anything I can't handle."

"Great." The Commander reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "Good luck, and watch your backs out there."

This said, the group parted, the Commander heading towards the elevator while the team boarded the shuttle. Mere minutes later, the craft lifted off from the Hangar floor, darting out of the Normandy's bay into the blackness of space, the Quarian piloting it a knot of nerves and anxiety as he engaged the FTL drive and the safety of the frigate vanished in a flash, replaced only with the rippling light of faster than light travel.

~o~0~o~

Thunder roared across the rolling hills of Hereza as the heavy downpour pummelled the long grass, filling the air with a loud, insistent hiss. The last vestiges of the planet's sun, Mellin, faded from the sky as dusk grew, turning the clouds from an oily grey to a murky black.

Very little of this registered with Jano as he crawled over the crest of a hill, his envirosuit keeping out even the most pervasive raindrops. He scrambled forward a few more feet, reaching the same vantage point that he had been frequenting every hour over the past twelve hours. Once he had settled, he reached up to activate a control on the side of his helmet. Inside his face-plate, his HUD shimmered, its zoom function focusing on the compound in the valley before him. Waiting for just a moment, he scanned the movement of the distant figures along its walls, taking note of the pattern of the floodlights that illuminated the compound's perimeter. Satisfied with the brief scan, the Quarian turned away, getting back out of sight before he could be spotted.

Slithering back down the hill on his belly, he came to a halt at the base, standing to stride over to the waiting shuttle. The team had taken a risk coming in so close, but fortunately the hills had served to screen their approach, allowing them to come down some fifty or so miles away and slowly skim the ground, bringing them to within the range of a skilled sniper's weaponry. Here they had set up their temporary camp, sheltering in the shuttle while the rain pummelled its hull, Kaidan and Jacob allowing Jano to take responsibility for reconnaissance in the bad weather while they prepared their gear.

As Jano stepped into the craft's shelter, Jacob looked up from where he had been running tests on his assault rifle, assembling and disassembling it in a time that would have made any seasoned soldier green with envy. Serving as the heavy weapons specialist on this mission, he'd come prepared, both sniper and assault rifles adorning his back while a pistol and a sub machine gun sat respectively on his right and left hips. A small grenade launcher sat over the small of his back, its potential boosted by the complement of Quarian-enhanced grenades he now carried in addition to his normal loadout.

Kaidan, meanwhile, had been standing perfectly still in the centre of the craft, one hand outstretched. Over his upturned palm hovered a small globe of bright blue energy, pulsing loudly. Serving as the biotic portion of the team's complement, he had tried his best to conserve his energy during the long wait, keeping his activities limited to a small number of simple biotic exercise regimens that helped him to focus his power. Anything more could have left him depleted and weary.

Both soldiers watched Jano expectantly as he gently shook himself, dislodging the coating of raindrops that clung to his suit before moving to where his own equipment lay neatly arrayed on a bench ready for him.

"No change to the guard patterns. Looks like they're not really expecting any kind of serious threat." He explained. "My scouting drone hasn't detected any kind of advanced screening measures. Looks like they only rely on vid cams and the eyes of their guards."

"So it looks like our initial plan is the best one?" Kaidan asked.

"Yes." The Quarian nodded. "I can get over those walls easily enough. Once inside, I'll get to the primary guard post and hack the side entrance."

"Where we'll be waiting." Jacob added.

"After that, getting to the central database and pulling the files should be easy enough." Kaidan said.

"In theory." Jano interjected. "Avoiding the eyes of the guards will be the real trick. Fortunately, getting to the guard post will give me the chance to insert a virus into the defence system to blind the cameras to our armour locator signatures. Anyone watching the footage won't see us, meaning we've just got to watch out for the actual guards running around. If we're lucky, we'll have nothing to worry about."

"Looks like you've got everything wrapped up pretty neatly." Kaidan commented approvingly. "Not bad, for your first outing."

"Yes, well." Jano said, glancing away nervously. "Let's make sure the plan works out before we go congratulating ourselves."

"How long until the window in the patrols?" Jacob asked.

"Fifteen minutes." Jano replied, placing the last of his weapons, a small pistol, in his hip holster. "We haven't got much time to waste."

"Fifteen minutes?" Kaidan interrupted. "Not much time for you to get there."

"I can move very fast on my own." The Quarian answered confidently. "And with the weather and the darkness, I should easily be able to keep myself unseen."

"If you say so." The Alliance soldier shrugged.

"Be at the side gate in twenty minutes. I'll only be able to keep it open for a short time."

With those short words, Jano returned to the gloomy darkness, hunching his shoulders against the rain as he vanished from the sight of his companions. In seconds, not even his footsteps could be heard, drowned out by the downpour.

~o~0~o~

Jano could feel his skin pulse against his suit as he scrambled through the long grass, a result of the blood pounding through his veins. Every subtle beat was followed by a silent twitch as he forced his body to keep moving, knowing that to break the momentum of his bandy-legged crawl would be to spell disaster. Renewing his progress might cause a betraying rustle or a wrong movement of the grass that an attentive guard could pick up on.

A victim of poverty too many times to count, Jano was no stranger to performing a raid upon a secured building. His training with the Wardancers had further honed skills he already possessed, but he'd already been quite proficient at moving about unseen. To all but the most fortunate and attentive of eyes, the Quarian would have been nothing but a shadow flitting across the grassy plain before the compound. Even those lucky enough to actually perceive anything more of his movements would have had their doubts as to whether they had seen anything more than a figment of their imagination.

The Quarian raced over the grass, soon placing himself within the dark corners at the base of the walls. He flattened himself against the wall, his body clinging to the metal sheets like omnigel spread over a door lock. He paused for just a second, his breath coming in carefully measured gulps, long and drawn out to keep them silent. One of the many risks of wearing his envirosuit was that the mask could betray his presence, his breath rasping through it loudly. He had to be careful to avoid that.

He looked up, eyes scanning the top of the wall quickly. After a heartbeat, he was rewarded with the sight he had been anticipating. A beam of light danced across the wall's upper edge, cast from a light source carried by someone standing on top of the compound's defensive perimeter.

The Wardancer waited until the beam of light, casting countless little sparks of illumination into the night as it passed through the sheets of rainwater descending from the sky, passed on from above him, its owner continuing his transit of the wall. The guard appeared to have no desire to linger about his duties, swiftly progressing away to presumably get back to the shelter of the guard post.

Once he had gone, Jano emerged from hiding once more, turning to face the wall. Taking a deep breath, he placed one hand on either side of the angular corner, long digits easily finding small purchases to cling to. With a muted grunt, the Quarian hoisted himself off the ground, clambering up the sheer wall like a spider.

The athletic feat would have been all but impossible for a Human, or any other species, for that matter. Jano's Quarian physiology, though, was another matter entirely. His longer, thicker fingers were stronger than a Human's or an Asari's, allowing them to take the full weight of his body while still being dextrous enough to permit him to make use of what scant purchase he could find. His lighter frame was an added bonus, granting him the agility needed to reach ever further for the hand and footholds needed. Even so, it required all of the strength his Wardancer training had granted to him to grant him the ability to perform the feat, and by the time he'd reached the top his fingers and toes were an aching mass of strained tissue. Nevertheless, he did not allow the pain to get the better of his caution, choosing to remain hiding beneath the lip of the wall for just a few more seconds as he listened out for the sounds of more guards. After a full ten seconds of hearing nothing but the wind, rain and thunder, he hoisted himself over the edge of the wall and onto the walkway that ran the length of the perimeter.

A quick glance around confirmed that the guards maintained the same patrol pattern he had observed earlier in the day, the pair of rain-soaked guards who had just passed by now having paused not twenty yards away as they used their helmet radios to communicate with someone else. Jano assumed the call was to submit their report, given the fact that he had seen every patrol in the past twelve hours stop in the same exact location to make the same call.

Jano nodded as he rubbed the feeling back into his fingers. This was good. The next patrol wouldn't be coming by for another fifteen minutes, long enough for the Quarian and his companions to have travelled deep into the complex and far away from their watchful eyes.

Moving on, he gently dropped down off the far side of the walkway, landing noiselessly on the ground inside the compound. Finding shelter behind one of the support struts holding up the walkway, he glanced around the compound's interior, the various scanning functions of his face-mask allowing his gaze to easily pierce the gloom.

~o~0~o~

Manuel Rojas sighed as he trudged on through the rain, shoulders hunched against the chill of the downpour as his ears filled with the rattle of countless droplets striking his helmet. In his hands, the ancient Mattock assault rifle he'd been issued with struggled to keep its built-in flashlight lit, the power cell sputtering and occasionally losing its charge as water drove its way into its inner workings.

Manuel cursed as his shoddy weapon lost power once more, the beam of light he'd been using to illuminate the path before him vanishing. The damned thing was older than he was, having seen use on a frontier colony decades ago. Hell, it hadn't even been outfitted for thermal clips, instead relying on the outmoded cooling system. Manuel knew all too well that he could snap in a fresh clip faster than the gun could shed its own heat, a situation he'd regretted more than a few times when he'd been caught in a gunfight with a loudly hissing weapon, little more than a lump of inert metal and plastic in his hands.

He snapped off a string of loud curses as he slapped the side of the gun, thumping at the power cell until it finally spat out a shower of sparks, showing no sign of further co-operation. The guard let loose a particularly coarse exclamation, resigning himself to the fact that he was going to be left in the dark for the rest of his patrol.

Taking shelter in the lee of the generator shack, a roughly built metal structure that housed all of the compound's power generators, Manuel activated his radio.

"Control, this is patrol three."

"Patrol three, this is control. We read you loud and clear. That you, Manny?" The guard recognised the voice of one of his friends.

"Nothing out of the ordinary on the south side." Manuel answered, inwardly simmering. His comrade sounded altogether too happy to be inside on a night like this. "Nothin' out here but wind and rain."

"And you." The man on the other end chuckled.

"Not for long." Manuel answered, keeping a lid on his irritation. "My gun's light packed in. I'm gonna need a replacement once I come off-shift."

"Well, you can feel free to ask Trudd if he can spare you one from our latest delivery. I bet I can tell you what he'll say, though. You remember what happened the last time a Blue Suns shipment came up a few items short?"

Manuel shuddered, the rain not the only cause of the involuntary twitch. Their Krogan employer was well known for his violent streak, cruel even for one of the lumbering aliens. Not everyone who went into his office came out. Not in one piece, anyway. The drenched guard sighed once more. It looked like he was going to have another late night trying to coax out a few more weeks of functionality from his gear.

"Alright, I guess I'll catch up with you at the end of my shift."

"Later, Manny."

Just as his radio clicked off, Manuel's eyes caught sight of a tiny flicker of movement, a black shade shifting against the darkness of the towering walls. Tilting his head, he peered back in that direction, trying to spot whatever it had been. He took a few steps forward, glad for once that his gun had its faults. He was sure that if he'd had the flashlight ruining his night vision he'd have never spotted the motion off to one side and in an out-of-the way location, so slight was the movement.

Drawing close with careful steps, he flinched as another flicker of movement pulled at the edge of his vision, a ghostly image of a circular red glow with two piercing white spots of light in its centre. Manuel's gut clenched, the first thoughts to occur to the guard being those of ghosts and spirits. His hands trembled as he turned in a full circle, now unable to see any evidence of whatever it was that had drawn his attention. Beads of icy-cold sweat seeped from every pore of his skin, his breath catching in his throat as a lump of fear clogged his airways.

The guard almost fainted from fright as a black shape dropped down from the underside of the walkway, only just holding onto enough of his wits to raise his gun. Before he could fire off a single shot, however, a long, thin limb snapped out to strike the side of his gun, knocking it out of his hands before he could apply the slightest bit of pressure to the trigger.

The red spectre appeared again, flaring to life like a match being struck. The face hissed as another arm swung powerfully, catching Manuel in the throat. The guard gagged as pain and breathlessness kept him from crying out, taking a sharp kick to the belly before the nimble creature slipped behind him, a slim but surprisingly strong arm looping around his neck to constrict his airway even more. Black night and bright stars began to blossom within his vision, but the guard held onto enough awareness to try and dislodge his attacker, leaping backwards so the pair fell to the ground, the smaller black figure caught under Manuel's bulkier frame. Even this did nothing to loosen the vice-like grip, the pair rolling around for a few seconds more before unconsciousness overcame the guard, his last few thoughts being of his own body being lowered gently to the ground before consciousness and the attacker both released him to his slumber.

Jano stood up from crouching over the slumbering guard, stepping over to the discarded weapon. He studied the Mattock for a moment before pulling out its Mass Effect core and throwing both the gun and its main power source in opposite directions, neither one of any use without the other. This done, he dragged the guard further into the shadows, then set off for the control centre.

~o~0~o~

Jacob stamped his feet impatiently, gazing across the open ground towards the compound. The rain had worked its way inside his combat jumpsuit, a single icy droplet worming its way down his spine and only making him more tense by the minute.

By his side, Kaidan counted off the time on his omnitool, waiting for the agreed upon time. The normally friendly soldier had maintained a stony silence from the moment he had left the shuttle, intensely focused on the mission. Much to Jacob's annoyance, the weather appeared to have no effect on him, the Alliance soldier keeping perfectly still, statue-like.

With a suddenness that made Jacob jump, Kaidan stood up straight, speaking out in a hushed tone.

"That's time. Let's move." He explained simply, wasting no words.

Trying their best to remain stealthy, the duo set out towards the compound wall and the door at its base, a heavy steel construction that promised to keep out most invaders. They moved slowly, wary of the possibility that a guard could appear at the top of the wall at any moment and betray their presence.

After half a minute's tense scurrying, they arrived at the door Jano had instructed them to wait at. Kaidan stepped forward cautiously, trying the door, only to receive the fat blorp of the interface as it turned red, refusing him entry. Tilting his helmeted head to one side quizzically, he tried again, receiving the same response. He glanced to his omnitool, worry showing in his stance.

Both seasoned soldiers almost jumped out of their skins as a dark shape dropped down from above, striking the sodden earth between them with a loud squelch. They spun to look at the object, hands darting to their guns.

A guard lay at their feet, very wet and very, very dead, his neck bent back unnaturally far. As Kaidan prodded the corpse carefully with the armoured toe of his boot, the door clicked quietly before hissing open to reveal Jano, stood at ease with his hands folded behind his back.

"You're late." Kaidan remarked as he stepped inside the compound.

"The guy with the bendy neck and his buddy decided to stop for a smoke in the shelter of the guard post." Jano explained, pointing to the small structure sitting on the wall above the doorway. "I'd hoped they'd move on before time was up, but I guess they wanted to linger on a night like this."

"Rule number one of any operation:" Jacob said, holding up one finger as he spoke. "No plan survives contact with an enemy force, no matter how simple or straightforward."

"Speaking of plans, where to next?" Kaidan asked, deferring to Jano's lead. The Quarian nodded his thanks for the gesture, turning to point around the compound.

"I've already paid a visit to the control centre, so the cameras and doors are already under my control. All we have to do now is get to the central computer core, grab our data, and get out again."

"I'm sensing a 'but'." Kaidan said, picking up on the hesitance in the alien's tone.

"I've been thinking." Jano said slowly, unsure about the reception his thought would receive. "There's no way we can completely hide our tracks. One way or another, this Trudd character is going to know we broke in here."

"As long as it happens after we leave, I don't see a problem with that." Jacob shrugged.

"But he's going to figure out that we went after his files. He'll be able to warn his contacts and suppliers that they've been compromised."

"Unless we do something else to hide our true objective." Kaidan finished for Jano. "Any ideas on how?"

"A few, but our best bet would be to make it look like a rival trader sabotaging the competition." The Quarian explained. "Steal some of the goods, blow up the rest."

"Now there's a line of thinking I can get behind." Jacob chuckled. "So you wanna split up? You take care of the hacking while we go start some fires?"

"That's what I was thinking." The Quarian nodded. "The central databases shouldn't give me much trouble, and you'd serve as a good distraction."

"Alright." Kaidan nodded, still a little uncertain. "But if anything goes wrong, don't try to be a hero. Get out of there and fall back to the shuttle. Some smuggler's dirty laundry isn't worth getting killed over."

Jano's first instinct was to rail against the older soldier's authoritative tone, but he realised that the Human was merely trying to help, considering the alien's precious little experience with leading an operation. He nodded silently before the trio split apart, the two Humans scurrying off under the cover of darkness while the Quarian took a moment to centre his thoughts, turning to head in the opposite direction.

~o~0~o~

Computers hummed loudly in the long, wide room, decaying after years of poor maintenance. Jano winced at the noise, centuries of Quarian instinct causing him to almost feel the torture of the machinery. Still, he thought to himself, he couldn't expect much when the owner of said machinery was a Krogan, not known for their love of technology.

Moving cautiously, almost as if fearing that a single errant footstep could trigger some alarm to bring a swift, unfortunate end to the mission, the Quarian approached the bank of computer terminals that was his goal. Behind him, a trail of unconscious or dead guards hidden away in storage cupboards, waste chutes and other dark corners traced his route through the silently besieged compound. Even so, his hands trembled just a fraction, nerves unsettled by the nearness of his objective and the importance of the next few moments.

The Quarian tensed as the door to the computer room shuddered open, its motors releasing a dull whine as they fought against thick layers of rust and dirt. He twisted, eyes darting about to find some kind of refuge from whoever was approaching.

A tall, broad shouldered woman strode into the room. She wore heavy combat armour, well worn and dented with the marks of years of action. The rifle slung on her back was an old model, commonly used out on frontier colonies, but the lumps of metal and plastic attached to it in odd places spoke of more unconventional origins, some of the modifications being of an illegal nature. Her breath passed noisily through an almost completely flattened nose and escaped through a set of crooked teeth, stained brownish-purple from decades of heavy Hallex use. As she walked, her armour creaked at its seams, straining against fat deposits it had not originally been moulded to accommodate.

The woman's somewhat masculine face twitched somewhat as she glanced around the room, the numerous wrinkles deepening as her eyes narrowed. She stepped up to the terminals, activating her omnitool to interface with one. In no time, a comm channel had been opened.

"Control, this is Sergeant Roberts. I'm getting no response on my comm unit. Are we still online?"

She waited a few seconds, feet shifting under her awkwardly, only to receive no reply. The comm channel remained deathly quiet. She tried again, with no change in her results. She cursed, dragging up a gobbet of phlegm and mucus that she spat out onto the dirty metal floor.

"Damnit!" She muttered. "There's something not right here…"

Jano's thighs tensed around the thick bundle of cables he'd latched onto, his arms and legs squealing out in equal protest against the strain of dangling down from the roof, a mere half dozen inches above the merc's head. He fought the urge to move, to adjust his grip, to do something, unwilling to risk a stray noise or a subtle shift in the air that might alert the Human to his presence. Painfully close to the hiding alien, the woman turned to scan the room again, unable to escape the sensation that she wasn't alone in there. She turned back to the comm again.

"I don't know if anyone else can hear me, but something's not right here. We may have an uninvited guest in the compound. I need-"

Jano's limbs had reached their limit, unable to hang onto the precarious refuge for any longer. Realising he had to act now, the Quarian opened his hands, allowing the cabling to slip free of his grasp. His body twisted, dropping so that he dangled by his primary set of knees, torso waving back and forth perilously close to the back of the merc's head.

The grizzled Sergeant must have sensed the motion behind her, years of combat experience giving her a keen awareness of her surroundings. She spun, eyes widening as she caught sight of the alien dangling before her face.

"What the-?"

She got no further, as Jano's hands darted out to grab either side of her skull, his helmeted head jerking forward to strike her. The metal covering his forehead struck her squarely on the nose, opening up old fractures and tearing cartilage to summon a fresh stream of blood. She staggered back from the blow, but only made it half a step before the Quarian's still-firm grip on her head stopped her.

Jano, unaffected by the impact thanks to the protection of his helmet, pressed the advantage of his surprise, shifting his grip on the woman as his legs released their final purchase on the cabling. His body twisted, for a moment putting all of his weight onto the Sergeant's shoulders as his legs whipped around to lock around her neck, the Quarian coiling like a serpent as he tried to pin his victim. His torso slipped under her arm, his own arm snaking around to further restrict her movement as he lurched against her, his added weight bearing her to the floor.

The pair crashed down onto the metal, a terrible racket going up as she regained her composure and began to fight back, straining against the smaller alien's grip. Realising that his advantage was quickly slipping away, her larger bulk causing her to prove to be a more difficult target than, say, another Quarian, he moved out of reach of her arms, taking a moment to reorient himself.

She rolled out from under his next attack, neatly dodging the swiftly descending foot that was aiming for her gut as she moved with speed Jano would not have expected from one of her size. Keeping up her momentum, she rolled up into a crouch, standing up with a lightness in her feet that flew in the face of her worn, slovenly appearance. Snarling, she lunged for her attacker.

Reacting without a moment's thought, the Quarian ducked the first blow, responding with a kick that, in his experience, would have stopped roughly half of the Galaxy's inhabitants dead in their tacks.

The Human paused for half a heartbeat, glancing down at the three-toed foot striking her firmly in her crotch before looking back to the Quarian with a chuckle. Completely unfazed, she took another swipe at the alien.

Definitely not a male, then. Jano noted, able to dismiss at least one issue that he'd been unsure of since the confrontation had begun. Dodging yet another powerful punch from the burly woman, the Wardancer settled for dropping into a crouch, one leg sweeping out to knock the Human off her feet. She struck the deck with a loud thump, but was soon rolling into a crouching position, from where she began retrieving her weapon from its holster on her back.

This latest development spurred Jano to act more decisively. If she pulled that gun on him, it would all be over. She'd either kill the outgunned alien, or her shots would alert any guards still conscious within a large radius. The Quarian was certain he couldn't handle multiple armed opponents all at once.

Jano darted forward, pushing himself to move quickly. His hands darted out, striking the woman three times in the space of a second or two. One impact to her shoulder sent red hot fire running through her arm, cold numbness following straight after as it dropped to her side. The next blow struck her square in the chest, knocking her back just enough to present an opening for the third and final blow to the soft spot below her jaw, striking the pressure point just right to send her spiralling down into the darkness of unconsciousness. With a grunt and a sigh, the Sergeant slid to the floor, breathing heavily through her mouth.

This threat dealt with, Jano turned his attention back to the terminals, activating his omnitool. Unsure as to whether the guard's transmission had been heard, he had to work quickly. In moments, his omnitool's powerful software sliced through the system's defences, providing him with near-total access to the compound's facilities. A quick search later and he had the data he needed, erasing any trail he might have left behind and closing the terminal down.

He'd almost reached the door to the computer room when a loud alarm began blaring out overhead, red lights flickering on all around him. His comm crackled loudly in his ear, the sounds of gunfire and panicked shouting echoing behind Kaidan's strained voice.

"Jano, do you copy?"

"I read you, Kaidan."

"We're pinned down at the storage warehouse! Guards moving in on all sides. Can't get to the objective."

"Just hang tight," Jano reassured him. "I'm on my way."

"Negative!" The older soldier replied. "They're deploying mechs and turrets. We have to pull out before things get really hot in here! Get the data, then get back to the shuttle, we'll pull out and meet you there."

Jano hesitated, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, what Kaidan said made sense. They had what they had come for, and risking it would achieve little. But on the other hand his concerns over the fact that the smuggler Trudd might realise their true target and alert his contacts, allowing them to take steps to negate the damage the intel could cause, weighed heavily on his mind. He couldn't stomach the idea that this weapons dealer could walk away relatively unscathed because the Quarian hadn't gone the extra measure to ensure the success of his mission. Steeling himself, Jano spoke up again.

"We can do this, Kaidan." He answered. "Just hold tight until I get there."

"… Fine. Its your call, Jano. But make it quick! They're pushing hard here."

"Understood. Jano'Yorish out."

~o~0~o~

Bullets zinged by overhead, some peppering the metal skin of the overturned all terrain vehicle with a thunderous rattle as Kaidan crouched down behind it. Spent clips littered the ground at the soldier's feet, some glowing white-hot in the darkness. Rain still cascaded down on the compound, the thick layer of moisture somewhat muffling the noises of battle.

Beside Kaidan, Jacob leaned back against an axle of the overturned vehicle, clutching at a painful injury to his side. A lucky shot from an enemy mortar had caught the young biotic off guard, the exploding ammunition causing his biotic defences to fall as he was blasted back off his feet. His reward for his inattention had been a trinity of cracked ribs and a whole lot of pain, his armour's adrenal stimulant system being the only thing allowing him to remain conscious. Even as injured as he was, Jacob continued to fight, balancing a rifle over the ATV to fire off a string of bullets at the enemy in short bursts. He'd even managed to launch off a few biotic attacks, but the strain on his body made it too painful to keep up the assault. At his feet lay the grenade launcher, its ammunition long since expended.

Kaidan risked leaning out of cover, taking numerous hits to his barrier as he launched a Shockwave, the ripples of blue energy barrelling towards a cluster of enemy soldiers to send them tumbling through the air, many of the victims landing with a loud enough crack to guarantee that they wouldn't be rising again. He took a brief moment as the enemy ran for cover to glance around the compound, surveying the battlefield.

One warehouse was burning merrily, the only victim of their plan to destroy the weapon stockpiles. Occasionally a loud crash would herald a billowing cloud of smoke as another crate of volatile ammunition went up in flames, but the building was already a lost cause. Much of the weaponry within had been destroyed by the fire, and what remained intact would most likely be warped by the heat so as to be nearly useless. In spite of this success, two warehouses remained intact, their contents untouched and ready for distribution to who-knew-where.

Kaidan cursed as he noticed that the enemy were making use of the contents of these warehouses, some large pieces of equipment being carted out and set up. He flinched back into cover once more as another grenade exploded very close to the ATV, the blast rocking the vehicle violently from side to side.

"Where the hell is Jano?!" He shouted over the clamour of incoming fire. Another blast made their shelter shudder.

"He said he'd be here." Jacob said patiently, tiredness shining through in his voice. "We just need to give him time."

"We don't have any more time!" Kaidan retorted, his voice strained. "We must've got pretty much the whole compound coming down on our heads out here!"

They both tensed as the incoming fire suddenly halted. Dull silence rolled over the compound, accentuated by the rain. Suddenly, a deep, bass voice rolled out, thunder clinging to its heels like a faithful pet.

"Are you still alive out there, little Humans?"

"Krogan." Jacob surmised, unwilling to risk a glance for fear of exposing himself. In a quiet moment like this, at least a dozen rifles would be trained on the ATV, the relative safety of a distracting firefight no longer present to cloud perceptions and dull reaction times. "Big one, from the sound of it."

"Must be Trudd, the one in charge of the outfit." Kaidan concluded.

"I can hear you out there." The voice rumbled, full of the kind of malice that took pleasure in tormenting the weak and unfortunate. "I'm glad my troops didn't finish you off before I could join in the fun. It's been a while since I've had the opportunity to kill someone myself. I was just thinking that I'd have to go to Omega for another hunt. How fortunate that I find some prey stumbling within my grasp here, in the comfort of my own home!"

"He's a wordy bastard, isn't he?" Jacob muttered.

"Especially for a Krogan." Kaidan's brow creased. "I mean, Jorall's the smartest Krogan I know, but even he doesn't talk like this."

"You delivered a grave insult by damaging my property." Trudd continued. "For that, I'm afraid I cannot let you leave here alive. However, the first one of you to tell me who sent you will be allowed a few minutes head start before I begin my hunt. Who knows, if you prove to be good enough sport, I could allow you to survive for several days!"

Jacob and Kaidan glanced to one another, neither one believing a word of the Krogan's offer. The former Corsair lifted a finger to his lips, reaching out for the sniper rifle that lay on the dirt beside him. Stifling a groan, he slid down to lie on the ground, finding a niche underneath the ATV to slide the barrel of his weapon through. He tutted as he realised that the tiny notch wouldn't grant him a clear shot at the weapons merchant, all of the vital areas on the Krogan mere centimetres out of his field of vision. From what he could see, the alien was enormous. Not quite as big as Grunt, but then again no Krogan was. Trudd wore heavy armour, in some places as thick as a starship's armour, that remained unpainted, its battle-worn, pitted grey surface somehow more intimidating than any colour scheme he could have applied.

Realising that his shot had to be a killing one to even be worth attacking the Krogan, Jacob instead shifted his aim to the creatures around the Krogan, spotting one grizzled Batarian sticking close to Trudd, possibly a bodyguard but more likely some kind of officer in the compound's hierarchy. One quick pull of the trigger was all that was needed.

The shot cracked out, echoed by the Batarian jolting backwards as his helmet erupted in a fountain of gore, blood and grey brain matter spattering those around him. The body, almost completely decapitated, dropped to the ground with a wet slap. Trudd turned at the shot, barely reacting as he faced the ATV once more.

"So be it." He said, his tone tense, excited at the prospect of a proper challenge.

The guards were so distracted by the pair of Humans behind the ATV that they completely failed to notice the four small, spherical objects that rolled amidst their feet, blue lights flickering rapidly. They were caught off-guard, therefore, when the grenades detonated, bathing the back ranks of the seasoned fighters in furious fire. Those closest were incinerated, those slightly further away merely stripped of most of their equipment and knocked unconscious, some still further away thrown to the ground by the shockwave. Even the lumbering Kornis Trudd was knocked off his feet, landing on his face in the mud with a wet squelch.

A small shape leapt into the midst of the chaos even as the flames of the grenades still burned brightly. Leaping over one merry blaze that had once been a pair of Turians in full armour, the nimble figure of Jano'Yorish vas Normandy cut a neat somersault before striking the ground again, using his momentum to launch himself into the gut of a stunned Salarian who fell quickly under the assault, never to rise again.

Trudd growled as he levered himself up out of the mud, fury blazing in his sapphire-blue eyes as he rose to his feet again. The ATV forgotten, he turned to the whirlwind of kicks and punches that ripped through the ranks of his men, using the confusion of the explosions to its full advantage. The Krogan's eyes narrowed as he charged, arms held wide as he raced towards the new arrival.

Jano was well aware of the charging Krogan, even as he dispatched a Human who tried to bring his nasty-looking shotgun to bear on the Quarian. Even so, he waited until Trudd was a mere couple of feet away before reacting, neatly side-stepping the Krogan's bulk as he ducked the outstretched arm, the weapons dealer blundering past him before he could come to a halt, his massive feet leaving gouges in the mud. Trudd turned, snarling as he re-evaluated his opponent, approaching more slowly this time.

The speed of the next punch from the Krogan startled Jano, who had assumed that his opponent was a typical Krogan; slow, straightforward and obvious. The Wardancer silently chided himself as he narrowly dodged the blow, realising that Trudd was not a Krogan to make assumptions about. Looking at his opponent with a fresh perspective, he realised that he recognised the positioning of the Krogan's feet, the way he moved his body. It was an old-fashioned stance, one Jano had learned very early on in his training. The blundering, overpowering Krogan-ness of his movements was a feint, designed to catch opponents off-guard. Underneath that hulking clumsiness was a careful calculation, a well thought-out plan.

Realising this deeper level to his opponent, Jano shifted his feet, adjusting his stance slightly. He couldn't afford to put too much faith in his own techniques, as the Krogan's knowledge of such martial techniques could have left the Quarian vulnerable, his weaknesses exposed to the larger alien. With both combatants versed in the finesse of hand-to-hand combat, the playing field had been levelled, meaning that it wouldn't be the strongest or fastest who would necessarily win. No, in this fight it was the quickest to adapt that would dominate the engagement.

Trudd lunged again, his style very aggressive even as he made sure to keep up a strong defence. While one fist moved in a dazzling series of swings and jabs, the other would remain close to his body, ready to counter any attacks from the Quarian. His armour was surprisingly flexible, less solid than it appeared at first. The thick metal plates covered less of his body than Jano had thought, softer material between the plates granting him the ability to move at speed, but also presenting more opportunities to land a blow that could hurt. Jano used these to his advantage, striking as frequently as he could. Normally exploiting the joints like this would have severely hindered his opponent, the pain running through their limbs to slow them down, but Trudd's powerful Krogan physiology made this impossible, his body almost impervious to any paralysing effects.

The criminal grunted as Jano landed a couple of vicious blows to his gut, retaliating with a powerful overarm swing of his fist. The Quarian flinched from the attack, raising both arms to counter Trudd's one. Such was the weight behind the attack that Jano's knee buckled, causing him to slip in the mud. Sensing an opening, Trudd applied more weight, pushing the Quarian down with all of his might in the hopes of crushing him.

Sweat ran in wide rivulets under Jano's enviro-suit, his breath coming in gasps as the Krogan's weight pressed down on him. His arms began to shake, threatening to buckle. In an act of desperation, the Wardancer kicked out, catching the Krogan on the knee. The powerful attack, made more potent by the Quarian's extra set of knees adding more power, buckled the leg, bending it back with a loud crack. Trudd shouted at the pain, releasing the Quarian as he struggled to remain upright.

Jano pressed the attack, darting under the Krogan to slip between his legs, standing up to pour a flurry to blows into the alien's back. Trudd stumbled forward, his damaged knee bending under him weakly to allow Jano to leap onto his back. Reaching around, the Quarian grabbed either side of the Krogan's impressive black brow plate, twisting with all of his might. It took every once of strength the Wardancer had, but the neck gave way with a loud ripping noise, vital sinews and nerves giving way to drop the Krogan to the ground in a twitching mass of flesh and metal that would soon be utterly lifeless.

Jano turned from the Krogan corpse, only to find himself confronted with the muzzles of a dozen rifles, aimed directly at him. He froze, hands rising into the air as he mentally assessed his situation. He still had a gun in the holster at his hip, plus his fists and feet, but the likelihood of him being able to use any of those before he was riddled with more holes than Sovereign's corpse was very low.

A loud crack sounded out, one of the soldiers aiming at the Wardancer collapsing with a hole running clean through his torso. The rest of the enemy ranks descended into chaos as more shots followed, Jano taking advantage of the distraction to leap into cover. Soon enough, the last of the enemy had been picked off, Jano rising from cover just as Kaidan strode out from behind the overturned ATV, supporting an injured Jacob.

"Nice work." The soldier commented, nodding to the deceased Trudd. "Never seen anybody take on a Krogan unarmed like that."

"And you'll probably never see it again." Jano grunted, clutching at an array of new bruises that covered his body. "Next time I'll just use a shotgun."

"Thane's always recommended a bomb." Jacob grunted.

"I'll bear that in mind." The Quarian looked about. "We've probably taken care of everyone in the compound. Reckon there's still point in torching the rest of the stockpiles?"

"Can't hurt to have a look round first." Kaidan answered. "The Council will be glad they've got one less smuggling ring to take care of, plus we're about to give them a list of customers and contacts. I reckon we've just put a stop to a fair amount of illegal weapons trading in Citadel Space. It'd be pretty petty for them to object to us helping ourselves to a couple of pistols before we leave. But we don't want to take too long. Shepard will be waiting for us."

~o~0~o~

Just over an hour later, the Nathak left the rain-soaked compound behind, jetting off into the inky blackness of space. Inside, its occupants rested after their mission. Jano and Kaidan sparred, the Quarian showing the Human a few of the moves he had used on the Krogan weapons dealer, while Jacob, still nursing his injured ribs, inventoried the salvaged guns. All twenty crates of them.

Behind them, the compound sat silent for some time, the rain continuing to pour down. Eventually, a few surviving guards awoke from their unconscious slumber to a scene of chaos, no memory of the previous night remaining save for the image of a shadowy demon with glowing eyes attacking in the dead of night. By the following day, the compound sat empty, tales of ghosts and monsters ensuring it was never occupied again.

Author's Note: Once again, I apologise for the delay in getting this up. What's more, I believe that dragging out the writing over such a long time has seriously hurt the quality of the chapter. I'm definately not very proud of this one, but I needed to get it finished so I could move on to another mission, move past my slow patch and make myself capable of picking up the pace again.

Anyway, I'll also post the Story Update I put up a few weeks ago, just for those of you who missed it:

This is just a quick status update to let you know that this fic is not dead, just hobbling along a bit at the moment. I'll delete this once I have a new chapter to submit.

It's been far too long since the last story update, and for that, I am truly sorry. I have about half of the next chapter done, but things have slowed to a crawl of late. In fact, since March I've been struggling to get much writing done at all.

I won't go into too much detail, but a large part of this is work related. Basically one of my co-workers left the company I work for only to try and set up his own business in opposition, after which several years worth of schemes have come to light, such as junior members of staff trained wrongly, a lot of missing stuff, customers directed away from us right on our shop floor and suppliers convinced to no longer work with us. Because of all of this, I've had to shuttle back and forth between our two branches (on pretty much opposite sides of the country) on a more or less fortnightly basis. Aside from being a serious drain on my resources which I have to compensate for, this is a huge drain on my time and energy, plus it kind of makes it difficult to get into the right mindset for writing, as its pretty hard to focus when you keep getting told about things that just cheese you off. Anyway, its finally reached the point where I'm permanently moving to the branch this guy left so that I can attend to the problems with more time and money to do so. This means I'm moving house over the next couple of months, and then hopefully my life will gain some kind of balance once more, allowing me to increase my output to something approaching previous levels.

But at the same time, that's not the only reason my writing's been affected over the past six or seven months. When you look at it, between December 2010 and March 2012, I wrote forty-three chapters. From March until now, I've written five chapters. That's almost a fifth of the output, a huge drop. And the main reason for that lies with ME3. I still haven't quite gotten over my disappointment with this franchise. ME3 fell short in so many areas, excelling only in the areas that don't appeal to my demographic such as fluid combat, big cinematic scenes (which can't really offer player input), and hollow, forced drama.

ME1 and 2 offered such an amazing experience, in my opinion. They did more than tell a story (Which they had to. I mean, let's face it, their plot was hardly anything inspired). They made me a part of the in-game universe. I was the goddamn Commander Shepard. What he felt, I felt. What he said, I echoed. What he chose, I chose. And I went into ME3 with a huge mixture of emotions. I was excited to end the story, see how I got to kick some Reaper tail. I was angry with the Reapers for all of the losses I had already endured (my first Shepard lost Ashley, Mordin, and Grunt through Virmire and the SM, respectively). But most of all, I was worried. I had made a number of choices in keeping with my own set of principles, and I thought that any one of those could cost me dearly in the climax of the series. And that's what made it so powerful for me. I thought that I could genuinely be screwed from the first moment of the game if I did things a certain way, but it was all MY experience, my consequences. ME3 completely failed to deliver anything resembling meaningful consequence. Instead it chose to focus on spectacle, drama and pseudo-philosophy. ME1 and 2 are like The old Transformers stuff from G1; Good fun, maybe not the meatiest messages to them, but still a hell of a ride. ME3 is like the Michael Bay films; Completely lacking in substance in exchange for big explosions, childish jokes and forced storylines. While the first two made me a part of the universe, ME3 had me feeling like I was watching the events unfold from outside of them, outside of the building, standing in the cold, looking in through a grimy window.

The characters that mattered to me, those I had been literally feeling a knot of anxiety in my belly for when I did the SM, were sidelined in a cheap fashion that left me unable to care about their fate this time around. what material we did get with them was so out of keeping with their characters that the restructured writing team was plain for all to see. Characters are Bioware's greatest strength, and they completely ballsed it up in order to promote the meathead, the sexbot, and the developer's pet.

This just... *sighs*... I could really go on for hours. And the fact that I still feel this way after such a long time shows how much of a grip this franchise had on me. I thought this was a crucial point in gaming, the definition of a new genre of interdependent games whose gameplay and storyline altered from player to player, a newer, more advanced form of RPG. I thought it would help to further video games as a medium and an artform. Instead we get mindless, mediocre summer blockbuster-style material with no substance, where the only choice that has an impact is playing the game to be disappointed or not touching it in order to save yourself the bother.

ME3 has robbed me entirely of my enthusiasm for this franchise. Every time Bioware announces something else to push their shoddy product, I can do nothing but curse, choking on my own bitterness over the experience. And I think this is a shame, because I still love everything else Bioware have produced. KOTOR was my first video game, and still ranks in my top five (alongside ME1&2, Shadow of the Colossus, Minecraft, and the Portal games), ME2 is by far the most rewarding game I have ever played, and I bought Jade Empire over the summer, thoroughly enjoying it. Heck, I even still play TOR, though I think the stories are spread too thinly over fifty levels of grind, but I still find them enjoyable and love every companion character. Bioware can make good games, but they let their arrogance and overconfidence poison their crown jewel, the ME franchise.

This is my biggest obstacle to continuing this story. I just... every time I think about ME, all I can feel is disappointment. Its very hard to find your muse in that. I can't even describe it as apathy, because I still care about this franchise, damnit. Occasionally I fell a swell of 'No, don't let it end like this!' and I just have to write on, but that's not a constant source of motivation. I think if I didn't already have the plot points of every chapter worked out, including some scenes I really want to write, then I'd have already given up on ITU. Working on 'what could have been' is very draining.

But I won't stop. I refuse to let Bioware win here. ME3 could have been a powerful story while still taking our choices into account, and I plan to show that. I'll keep writing. Just... please have patience with me as I push on. I'll get to the endgame, even if it takes me another two years.

Moving to another matter, I feel like I need something non ME-related. As mentioned above, I've been playing other games of late, foremost of those being TOR. Playing this game has immersed me in a universe that... I kind of moved away from with the discovery of Mass Effect. Star Wars was one of my great passions when I was younger, with KOTOR probably providing my single most emotionally powerful gaming experience. I still have an extensive SW book collection, and I used to run SW RPGs for a group of my friends. Anyway, about nine years ago (a couple of months after finishing KOTOR for the first time), I sat down for about eight months and wrote a Star Wars novel. I originally planned a trilogy, but after realising it had no hope of being published, I stopped writing, only ever completing the first installment. I still have my original manuscript to this day, although the digital copies have long since been lost to computer brain farts and one memory stick going through the washing machine.

What I'm asking is, would anyone like to read this if I tweaked the wording a bit, tarted it up to my current writing standards, reworked some of the plot to fit with the current continuity? Its currently sitting at seventy five thousand words, so its not that daunting of a task for me these days. I realise that its a distraction from ITU, but I feel like I need one of those from time to time.

Let me know what you think, and as soon as I have some spare time I'll get to writing some more ITU.

Once again offering my humblest apologies. You guys deserve better from me than this.

Fainmaca Out.

Anyway, to provide a further update: I am now halfway through moving house. I just need to return to my old place, pick up some furniture and sign a few things, then I'll be settled. Work's still a pain in the backside, and ME3 is still ME3. Still, one resolved problem out of three ain't bad.

As for the Star Wars story, I have received overwhelmingly positive support for doing this, which surprised me. I've gone back to thje story, re-reading it to see what needs changing, and sometime over the next few months I'll get some reworked material out here. It needs quite a few changes to account for the Old Republic and KOTOR 2, but I'm looking foward to the challenge.

By the way, I'm still looking for additional material to add to the ITU-niverse. The very talented Ashtrails has drawn an image of Jano'Yorish, which you can find on the ITU thread on the BSN, and I've hopefully got a few more pieces lined up with different people. I'm also still looking for supplemental material based in the continuity of this story, trying to get a few authors involved in padding out the setting with their own unique slant on things. If you're interested, give me a shout.

So now I guess I'd best get back to work on the next chapter. Its one many of you have been looking forward to- The Revenant's mystery planet! I have some pretty cool stuff lined up, so watch this space!

Fainmaca Out.