Out of all the times to catch wind of a human, Garrus Vakarian decided that this moment was one of the worst. He was on a case: the theft of a particularly expensive sky-car. It was owned by a volus business magnate, Wak Priv, who was known to host lavish weekly parties at his Zakera Ward penthouse.

Disgusting. Serving the interests of private property was not why he joined. Call him an idealist (and many people have), but the thought of protecting some rich sapient's trinket when there were true injustices out there set an itch under his mandibles. It was all in accordance with C-Sec's mandatory quota targets. Would it be up to him, he would hunt the worst of the worst- organ harvesters, drug dealers, sapient traffickers. Spirits-damn the special interests.

I suppose it didn't hurt to take a few minutes off, he thought, and turned onto the railing to get a better view.

After all, humans weren't even supposed to be on the Citadel yet, at least not in any official capacity. Contact was made a few weeks ago, and per procedure, the human leaders were invited here- the Citadel, the Five Arms, heart of the galaxy. Though it was apparently accepted, the diplomatic mission had suffered delay after delay, and no one was sure why. Some believed that the humans were actually feral, brutish things, like the Rachni centuries prior. Others cast them as an ancient race, perhaps even a group of Prothean survivors, who opted to recede back into their little galactic corner. There were also rumors that humans had their own, wildly different faster-than-light technology, which forced them to reach the Citadel using the "slow way," bypassing the galaxy-spanning mass relay network. Garrus didn't think to put much stock in any of them.

This one, standing a level below him, had been wandering around the ward aimlessly, somehow oblivious to all the people gawking and recording it. Had it been any other species, Garrus would have flagged it as a vagrant and reported its location to C-Sec for ID and processing.

He overheard murmuring from the onlookers.

"… what's it doing here? I thought there was another delay…"

"…looks so much like an asari, like a maiden in fact…"

"…brown fur instead of head-frills…"

"…do all humans wear jumpsuits? Geez man, hold the omni-tool camera horizontally-"

Suddenly very aware of the forming crowd and his contribution to it, Garrus turned and briskly walked off. The investigation scene was only a few minutes away.

It seemed that the carjacker was much worse at flying than theft. Security drones had automatically cordoned off the area, circling in the air slowly to dissuade pedestrians from walking too close. Amongst them stood a large bronze statue in the form of a salarian, triumphantly raising an ancestral palou sword into the sky. The plaque below spoke of a general who led several brilliant maneuvers during the Krogan rebellions. Thanks to this idiot, a large black mark now streaked across his side. Too bad for him.

Garrus had already reconstructed the events from security footage. A few hours ago, the sky-car took off, sped down the nearby lane, and shed its side on the statue. He was here to answer the pressing question: where the vehicle was going.

"Oh. What do we have here?"

Several large chunks of the sky-car had torn themselves off. From the look, they seemed to be internal components rather than pieces of the car's shell. Garrus kicked over one. The original chrome exterior of the sky-car was visible on one side, if only barely. The other side was warped, mangled, and covered in soot. Frayed cables were wrapped around other mechanical bits, which were bent to the point of being unrecognizable.

Shit. The condition of these pieces warranted inspection from an expert's eye, not his. He was about to request a forensic team when he heard a voice from behind.

"Excuse me sir, why are you holding a centrifugal compressor?"

It was a quarian, a semi-rare sight on the citadel, due to their 'reduced' status in the eyes of most races. This one wore a black environmental suit and a purple mask. She was outfitted with combat plating that had a collection of strange electronics draped on the outside. Garrus was about to order her to step out of the cordon, but held his tongue.

"Wait. You know what this is?"

"Yeah," the quarian female said as she bent down and inspected the piece. "A type II or type III by the looks of it. It took a lot of shear damage, but you can still recognize it by the type of wires attached. See?" the quarian explained, showing Garrus the tell-tale insulation on the wiring.

"It's an H-Grade, too. There are only a few workshops on the Citadel that can replace it."

That piece of information will certainly help. If the thief wanted his 'prize' in any condition to keep or sell, he would head to one of these shops, which C-Sec could monitor or cordon off. "Well, I'm impressed. I knew quarians were good with machinery, but not that good. What's your name?"

The quarian looked up from the debris. "Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. And thanks. Just some skills I picked up."

"I see. The pilgrimage, right? Not many quarians travel to the citadel to fulfill it."

Tali shirked away, and Garrus knew he touched some unseen nerve. "In a sense, I guess so. A lot of my pilgrimage was planned out by my father, so I'm not entirely here by choice…"

A yell suddenly pulled Tali from the conversation. It came from a nearby shop.

"Tali! Get over here and finish fixing my shop terminal! You're on the clock!" hollered a pissed-off Asari, arms overloaded with crumpled boxes of starship miniatures and candy. She strode out of a nearby store; Yaunya's Studio read the sign.

Tali suddenly shot straight up. "Y-yes ma'am, all be right there! I didn't get your name, officer-"

"Garrus. See you around, Tali."

As the quarian hurried back to her post, Garrus spent a few minutes taking pictures of the scene and compiling the outline of his report. On his omni-tool, he then gave the go-ahead for the forensic collection team. Starting back for C-Sec HQ, Garrus found himself in a good mood. There's nothing like a little community outreach, he thought.

"Officer Garrus, Pallin wants you to report to him immediately," the secretary said.

Garrus immediately clenched his mandibles in response. He and Executor Pallin weren't on the best of terms. In fact, their relationship often dipped in and out of hostility, and Garrus sometimes wondered if his local status as nearly-a-spectre was the only thing preventing the executor from kicking him off the force. The guy was cut from the same cloth as his father: a no-nonsense, by-the-books, model turian. The kind of turian that they hung posters of in elementary schools on Palaven, reminding kids to always apply their face paint and to report any seditious activity to the local guard. Garrus appreciated his motive, but didn't put much faith into rules and procedures. After all, criminals didn't play by any rules. Why should they?

Pallin was waiting in his office along with another turian. From his blue, black and white garment, Garrus could guess that the stranger was C-Sec, although probably from an administrative division.

Garrus dropped a salute and stood at parade rest. "Officer Vakarian, reporting, sir."

Pallin nodded. "At ease, Garrus. Sit down," and the officer obliged.

"I'll be frank. Garrus, something has come up. I have to take you off your current assignment."

That last sentence was all it took to rile him up. "But sir-" Pallin raised his claw. "Settle down Garrus, it's nothing you did… this time." That dropped Garrus back into his seat, and elicited a chuckle from the stranger, who was casually fiddling with his omni-tool.

"Garrus, this is Lieutenant Camnus Aganius, Enforcement division," announced Pallin. "He is C-Sec's liaison for the humans." The speckle-faced stranger put away his omni-tool and gave a form-perfect salute to Garrus, who returned it in favor. "A pleasure to meet you."

Pallin continued. "Special complications have required us to make extra preparations for the human delegation's arrival to the station. Th lieutenant is travelling to human space on a fact-finding mission to help adjust our security procedures."

"Not just human space," Camnus added, "but the human home system, Sol."

Garrus took a second to process. These 'extra preparations' might be part of the reason that the human negotiations have been delayed so long. "Alright, so where do I fit in any of this?"

Camnus replied, all the while fiddling with his silver-crested lieutenant's badge. "This mission… it's a bit of an emergency. We've had little time to prepare for it. We've managed to hire a human captain that can take me there, but security is a matter than has been left entirely open. We need someone skilled, observant, and comfortable in an environment with loose regulations."

"In short… me."

Pallin nodded. "Exactly. You'll be one of the first of the council to visit human space, and their seat of government at that. You'll represent the hierarchy to the upstarts. This is a good application of your skills."

And I'll also be out of your frills for a while. Yeah, I'm sure that factored into it.

"I don't appreciate leaving a case like this," Garrus started slowly, "but it would be an honor to represent C-SEC to a new race. I accept."

Pallin stood up. "Good. You and Camnus will leave tomorrow. Dismissed."

Terminal 57-AB was uncharacteristically decrepit. The smooth pristine white panels that were ubiquitous across the Citadel turned into surfaces of rough concrete, with the occasional bullet hole. The overhead lights flickered, and exposed wiring occasionally spat bundles of sparks upon anyone walking below. The terminal's residents, who loitered in corners and around bathroom doors, looked like the types to take weekly visits to a C-Sec detention center. Not the best location on the Citadel, and not the expected place to transport someone who was a diplomat in all but name.

Camnus was waiting for him there, already conversing with a smiling human. It looked like the one he spotted yesterday, although it had gold fur on its head that was styled in a shorter, simpler arrangement. Just like the human yesterday, this one wore a skin-tight barrier underneath a layer of 'normal' clothes, which looked like the minimalist garments found on any populated world. From her aged complexion, Garrus deemed the alien to be more of a matron than maiden, if following the asari analogue.

The pair waved him over. "Hail, Garrus. I'd like you to meet one Karin Chakwas, a female human."

"Most people know me by Doctor Chakwas," she said as she shook Garrus' hand. "Or just 'Doctor', if you prefer."

"It's a human greeting," Camnus explained, noticing his fellow turian's confusion.

Garrus glanced out at the waiting ship. It was obviously designed with asari sensibilities: sleek curves, a pristine white hull, and ample windows for viewing. Garrus personally would spring for something tougher, but he remembered two things: one, Pallin had to arrange transport on short notice. Two, he should be thankful that the alien ship didn't look like a nest of insects, or anything else too foreign.

"Impressive vessel you have there, Doctor."

Chakwas nodded in agreement. "The Heavy Light is a Saud-Kruger Orca. They are designed as luxury craft, designed for comfortably transporting wealthy tourists. However, this one has been modified for long-range exploration. Still, it was quite the voyage to get here. You see, we did not take the relays."

"So the rumors are true," Camnus concluded.

"Yes. Humans do not use these 'mass effect drives' as I believe you call them. We have our own faster-than-light technology- a series of technologies, if you can believe so. That is why there are so few humans in your occupied region of space, though I suspect that will be changing soon."

"Well then, it certainly will be a long trip back. Shall we get onboard?"

"Not quite yet," Chakwas responded, checking a device on her wrist. "We still have to wait for our pilot."

"I thought you were the pilot."

"Nope! I am!" The three turned to face another human. Garrus perked up- it was the clueless human she saw yesterday! Also, Tali'Zorah was beside her. The pair strode up to meet the group.

"You? You seem quite young to captain a starship," Camnus said.

The woman crossed her arms and scowled. "Yeah, but I'm fully licensed. I've already got one elite rank, so as of now, I'm the best pilot this side of the Coalsack Nebula." She extended her hand up at the turians. "CMDR Valerie Shepard, ready to take you two to Sol in record time."

Garrus didn't understand much of it, but if this Shepard was vetted by C-Sec, it would have to be good enough for him. "Tali, I'm quite surprised to see you here. How did you get involved with these humans?"

Tali recounted the tale, although her eyes were drawn towards the foreign human ship. "Well, Shepard came by Yanya's Studio later that day. I was still working my shift, and we struck a conversation."

"If I take off that mask, will you die?"

Tali instinctively clutched her air filter. "Probably. We quarians need the suit and mask to create an isolated ecosystem for ourselves. An hour without it means that I could catch a serious condition, and if I didn't have my emergency antibiotic package on hand, I would die within a handful of days… probably in my own vomit."

Shepard froze, unprepared for such a morbid answer. "Oh."

Tali, preoccupied on starting the reset procedure for a broken vending machine, continued. "It's a good thing us quarians are naturals with ships. Living on them makes the whole 'isolated ecosystem' thing much easier."

"That must be rough. I'm a spacer, so I'm pretty used to recycled air, but I do like not eating through a straw," Shepard commented. She took a sip of her drink, Willow Syrup Lassi, one of the most popular drinks served on Citadel grounds. Tali recommended she try it; she was often annoyed that they didn't carry enough dextro versions of the drink.

"…you mean an emergency induction port," Tali muttered quietly.

"Huh?"

"It's nothing."

After a minute of silence, she suddenly perked her eyebrow. "Wait. How good are you with starships?"

"Shepard offered to pay me five times more than that bosh'tet shop owner," Tali concluded. "Plus, I get to work on new ships, new technology! That alone is worth it."

Chakwas glared at Shepard, likely annoyed that she had inducted a crew member so suddenly. "I'll have to store extra rations, I suppose."

"Already took care of that, Karin."

Garrus knew that if they stood around any longer, a crowd might form. "Seems everyone's accounted for. Are there any more surprise hires, or shall we get going?"

The drell moved quickly but smoothly, as to not draw attention to himself. His beady eyes scanned the dock, mentally labeling each person.

Threat.

Innocent.

So far, nobody warranted the label of 'target'.

So, he pressed on. A distracted asari ran into him, and the drell realized that he had seen her drunk in an Illium night club seven years, four months, and 5 days ago. She stumbled out of the washroom, and slipped on an empty credit chit.

No threat. He reflexively put his hand over his left hip, where a heavily modified M-3 Predator was waiting in concealed carry. He learned early on that an accidental bump of the hip was all it took to notify someone that you were armed. It wouldn't do to be discovered early.

Finally, a sign labeled "57-AB" appeared overhead. This was it. It was so simple, and the best assassinations usually are- aim, fire at the turian twice, letting his specially loaded sabot rounds do the work of breaking any shields, and escape. His eyes quickly glanced to a nearby parked sky-car, courtesy of Citadel Rapid Transport. The asari he bumped into earlier was now resting by her luggage, chatting loudly on her omni-tool. She could be a serviceable hostage, if it came down to it.

He turned the corner. His hand reflexively went down for the draw, but he stopped. Outside the atmosphere barrier was the sight of the human spacecraft pulling away from her docking clamps, thrusters igniting fully once beyond the minimum safe distance.

"We've missed the window," he said over comms.

A short pause. "Head back. I have contingencies."

As the old turian saying went: "fact is stranger than fiction." As it turned out, it was a human saying as well, making the proverb an example of itself.

Humans had never discovered element zero, or 'eezo,' the substance that formed the basis for every piece of technology known in the galaxy. From FTL, to shields, to weapons, Garrus couldn't imagine how, but the new race had made do without it. There was one thing they haven't figured out though: artificial gravity.

Garrus awkwardly trudged through the human ship. His magnetic boots gave a heavy thud with each footstep. The floor, ceiling and some of the walls were completely made of wood, which salarians were fond of using. Most of the other surfaces were curved and either polished metal or pure white plastic, a distinctly asari aesthetic.

The humans walked ahead of the group, clearly more used to the faux-gravity than he was. Chakwas hung close the the aliens, directing a small crew of humans around at the same time. "Make sure you lock all your belongings down. Anything that isn't becomes a bullet if I have to accelerate quickly," Shepard said. "And over here is the bar. Help yourself to my stocks of lavian brandy any time you want."

"Sorry, Shepard. Quarians and turians are dextro-amino based races. Normal alcohol is poison for us," Camnus pointed out.

"Interesting," muttered a passing Chakwas.

"…oh. Well, here's the pool table. If you want, I can teach you guys how to pla-"

"Thanks," Garrus interjected, "but all I really want is somewhere to do my calibrations."

"I'm perfectly comfortable with the arrangements you've shown us, Shepard. Thank you," Camnus stated politely.

"Shepard, if you don't mind, could you show me a bit more of the ship later?" asked Tali. The request seemed to re-energize the young commander's spirits. "Sure! When I have time though. Gotta get back to flying now."

None of the non-humans expected the commander to simply vanish in a shimmer of yellow shards. They looked toward Chakwas, who simply smiled and pointed to a small white light in the corner. "Telepresence," she explained. "Human FTL communication and holographic technology is advanced enough to mimic the presence of a person, even if they're actually light years apart. Shepard's really fond of using it. You know how it is- kids love the newest things."

"Fascinating," Camnus mused. "I knew there was something wrong with her."

"You have a keen eye. Yes, telepresence has built-in limitations for civilians, but most politicians and other elites have non-restricted versions with full visual fidelity. Nevertheless, it's still extremely useful. It can be used for communication, training, remote piloting, and even holographic clothing, though the last one is quite niche."

Shepard's voice blared over the intercom. "Attention, this is your captain speaking," she announced coyly, "the Hard Light will be entering supercruise shortly. Feel free to look out the window and witness the majesty of human tech!"

The three peered out the ship's numerous viewports. At first, nothing seemed to happen. The citadel, the surrounding ships, and the Widow nebula all hung in space. Then everything everything started to move.

It seemed like some god or spirit plucked everything - the Citadel, the surrounding nebula, nearby ships – and simply dragged them behind the ship. Tali wondered how this could happen: by definition, light simply could not catch up to the ship now. That was why a conventional FTL eezo core obscured everything when in transit. All one could see looking outside was a tube of blue light.

"Incredible. This view alone is all the entertainment I need," Garrus quipped.

The other two couldn't help but agree.

"Alright, we're currently traveling several times the speed of light," Shepard explained, "but that isn't enough to reach another star in a timely matter. So, I'll be doing something called a frame shift drive jump. FSD jump, or jump, for short."

A low, rising droning sound could be heard all over the ship. Tali was all too familiar with it. Something was spinning up.

A cold voice replaced Shepard over the intercom. "Jumping in three… two… one… engaged."

Suddenly, the familiar purple hues of the Widow Nebula disappeared. The ship now appeared to be racing through an endless abyss, occasionally twisting through strange green and brown nebulas. Screams and groans could be heard as they passed by. All the crew could think to do was to stay silent and watch. Shepard called this place 'witchspace,' but didn't provide much else. After a few minutes, the ship reentered normal space, and the comforting glow of a star graced the view port once again.

"So, if you want to travel the stars without element zero, you have to go through a realm of angry spirits," Garrus said. "Got it."