"Ein Anfang ist kein Meisterstück, doch guter Anfang halbes Glück."

(A beginning is no feat, but a good beginning is half the success.) - Anton Alexander Graf von Auersperg

Chapter 2 - Citadel: The Quarian

Six hours later, I was leaning on a wall close to Chora's Den and waited for the inevitable.

The 'breaking news' that I had read had been published roughly nine hours before I woke up, and I was still tempted to kick myself in the balls for not checking the media prior to going to bed. There was nothing I was able to do about it now, though, so instead I had chosen to instead act as swiftly as I could.

I estimated one hour for the information to reach the newswriters once the assault had begun. Every radio transmission from Eden Prime had been cut by SOVEREIGN while it had been there. The NORMANDY had been the first ship to respond to Ashley's squads call for help, and when my memory served me correctly, had only been fifteen minutes away from Eden Prime. The mission on Eden Prime itself had likely cost another hour, depending on how long the train ride to the beacon had taken. Then Commander Shepard was supposed to be out cold for an additional fifteen hours, after that debacle with the Beacon.

So, according to my rusty calculation skills and counting from my wake-up call, I had roughly six hours left to get ready for Shepard's arrival on the Citadel.

And additionally, maybe another one or two hours had to be added to the clock for Shepard's Council meeting, for recruiting Garrus and Wrex and for the investigation into the strip club. So I had been in no real hurry, but decided to move close to the points of interest as soon as possible regardless. Fucking everything up because I had miscalculated the time would've been the singular most stupid mistake in my entire life.

After showering, brushing my teeth, eating breakfast and ordinary stuff like that I had lain back on my bed - I didn't want to be too tired for the challenges ahead. This room was still mine for the rest of the day, and I figured that I could wait here just as well anywhere else.

Unfortunately, trying to strike a balance between resting and timing, I achieved neither of these thing. I hadn't closed my eyes and looked on the watch every few minutes or so. The slowly building axienty and nervosity kept me from actually relaxing, and an hour later I rose back up and, not without frustration, packed my things and left the apartment without looking back.

Then I had gone to Marson, had thanked him for his hospitality and checked out – not without leaving a nice tip. Well, why the hell not? As Roman had said before, the hotel was a decent standard. Cheap, but decent. The only real negative was a catastrophic lack of coffee machines.

Once out of the hotel, I had caught up with what I had forgotten the days prior - I got rid of a few of my most useless or incriminating items, stowing them in various hiding spots around the wards, but not without making sure that they could not be traced back to me if found, particularly my cellphone which would've been impossible to explain. I left them behind with a heavy heart. After all, I gave up some of my very few links to my old life. I held on to most of it, though, like my old clothes that I had tied up to a bundle and attached to my bag. To blend more into the crowd, I had donned the colonist clothing - with the exception of the wristbands and that ridiculous mini-jacket, which I had replaced with my old jacket. In essence, I was clad in all black, including my armor below the jacket.

Now, I had to catch up or await Shepard's group, while preparing myself for Fists hitmen.

And that was the reason why now, four hours later, I was hanging around the shadows at Chora's Den 'fast travel point', also known as Citadel Transit, and smoked at least five cigarettes in a matter of thirty minutes. While most certainly a very unhealthy pastime, it did have the desired effect... My mind was clear, and the nervosity was held at bay.

I had chosen this particular scene to 'introduce' myself for various good reasons.

It was on the Citadel, there were few enemies to expect, I knew Shepard had to get there and was able to roughly guess when, I had a good chance to make a positive impression of some important people and finding a good explanation for my interference was supposedly easy as well.

That was the plan, at least.

I just hoped that everyone's favorite quarian wouldn't believe me to be the one who wanted to harm her. And hopefully, I could avoid any friendly fire incidents once Shepard arrived. She and her squad might thought that I was one of Fists goons. I doubted that I was going to live long enough to prove them wrong in that case...

Even with my all-black clothing and in the shadows of the lower wards, I was far from being actually invisible, but still no one of the numerous passersby took real notice of me. I was just another stranger in the crowd, practically hidden in plain sight.

I watched the patronage going in and leaving the area in front of the strip club for roughly a quarter of an hour. Then I looked down at my hands. They were starting to shake violently once again.

I had fully realized by now that I was about to enter my first real firefight in only a few hours time. No quicksaves. No restarting and using your knowledge to finally beat that Geth Colossus after your fifth try. You get killed, you're done for good.

And seeing how I had exactly zero 'real' experience, it was highly unlikely that I would get out of there unharmed.

Unfortunately, the other option was to hide myself for as long as possible before, inevitably, getting caught and interrogated - plus, living a short life full of regrets. So, this was the true point of no return. I lit up yet another cigarette and thought everything over, again and again.

Once I was done with my cig, I decided to get moving. One can only lean against the same wall for so long before it gets on your nerves. Patience had never really been a virtue of mine, and I still had around an hour left for sure - it maybe was a cynical line of thought, but I would without any doubt hear gunfire when Shepard was close. I would have to remain in the area, though, just in case.

Trusting that everything would work out just like in the games, and putting too much trust in my own calculations was too risky of a gamble. I sucked at mathematics.

I resisted the temptation of having a drink at Chora's Den. As Kaidan had phrased it, the club did indeed have "some nice views" (*cough*), but the last thing I needed right now was to be distracted by some asari maidens dancing their... admittedly, very nice behinds off.

Plus, staying out of sight of some of the guys inside Choras Den was important to keep control over my cover story. I decided to instead spend some time in the Upper Markets - contrary to what the game makes one believe, the area was quite crowded. And my clothes allowed me to blend in nicely.

I positioned myself at the large windows granting a clear look at outer space and posed as someone taking a break, but kept my eyes on the people passing by. A thought struck me out of nowhere and I grinned, albeit coldly and melancholic. If just any one of them had known, what fate had in store for this station...

Another ten minutes pass without anything really happening - with one minor exception.

Though many Asari prefered to wear these sort-of formal dresses we all love (or hate) from the video games, actually the vast majority was clothed in what I would describe as 'casual attire'. Finally and under circumstances I even today still consider outright mind-blowing, I was able to call out BioWare for only offering a limited taste of the Mass Effect reality.

And then, a group of seemingly younger Asari walked by, all of them centered around what appeared to be their 'pack leader'. Her violet skin tone even made the Queen of Omega look pale, and her outfit for some reason screamed 'gang leader' to me. It looked somewhat like a human style - black stockings, black and tight short jeans, white shirt, and most notably a vest in the exact same color as her skin. She definitely had all (male) eyes on her. If my own eyes didn't deceive me, in addition, she also got some very jealous, and worrisome, looks from a couple of dress-wearing 'standard' asari. Something about that whole group just smelled 'trouble'. And the 'alpha-girl' seemed to be very aware of her reputation and her effect on the people around her... if the smug grin on her lips was anything to go by.

"And here Liara claims that asari are not female… technically", I quietly mused, shaking my head and distancing myself a few extra steps from the spotlight. My guess was that the asari was in some way associated to someone powerful, and that was more enough of a reason to no risk any confrontation.

This in a sarcastic way amusing little scene aside, Real Life being by far more colourful made it far easier for me to avoid trouble. Especially since my fellow humans, much as I had anticipated, came - literally - in all colours and tastes. I remembered a quote from Samara. 'Put three humans in a room, there will be six opinions.' And in a time where there was seemingly no dominant fashion style, I could definitely see why aliens would be in wonder about human diversity. It actually made me a little proud.

The only one so far who gave me a suspicious look was the one batarian that I saw – and I was quite sure that the only reason for this was the deep hatred between batarians and humans. To be fair, his disdain for me matched my own dislike. We made eye contact, stared at another for a few seconds, then he walked away with a snort. I briefly closed my eyes, idly wondering if 'Bring down the Sky' would be part of all this as well.

I let my gaze wander around the area. The market did not only look exactly like in Mass Effect 1 (with better graphics, of course), but also kind of really boring. Grey, aliens, grey, supply crates and, ah well, grey.

The only really interesting bit was the large window front - only few meters separated the vibrant city from the cold black void. The DESTINY ASCENSION flew, or should I rather say, drifted by a few times, concealing the view on the system's sun. This breathtaking view never ceased to fascinate me… and scare me. Just a little.

And then, all of a sudden, I saw something in the windows' reflecting glass which made me turn around on my heels in an instant.

A scarred krogan in a red armor walked past. A shade of crimson which exactly matched the color of his headplate. His presence was intimidating, even oppressive. I saw most of the people looking into his direction with distressed or even scared expressions.

Like the Asari before, he dominated the area - but where she had done it by charme and glamour, he did it by an aura of authority, of physical supremacy. He didn't demand attention, he demanded submission.

Even the few other Krogan standing and walking around seemed to have high respect for this warrior, they went out of his way without even hesitating.

My pulse went sky-high in an instant.

Urdnot Wrex.

No doubt possible.

He looked grim; even grimmer than I remembered him from the games. The scars ran deeper than I thought, and in his eyes glimmered a fire the other krogan lacked. Without even as much as looking around, he made his way to the Lower Market and descended the staircase.

He had only been here for maybe half a minute, but his disappearance left a lot of relaxing people behind him – and a young human who did not relax in the slightest, but instead felt an imagined rope tighten around his neck.

I leaned back, supported my body on the handrail. I had guessed that Wrex would come this way – there were not many different routes leading to his target, to Fist.

Still, meeting my first my in-game character in reality… Saying that he made an impression would be quite an understatement. Especially considering that it was not some forgettable quest-giving NPC. That was Wrex, for hell's sake.

I tentatively glanced on my watch. About half an hour left. Shepard should be on the Citadel now, on her way to the Council chambers. I needed some alcohol. And I hoped that I had made no mistake in letting Wrex go. Because if things were not going according to the game, then I would be, truly and beyond any doubt, screwed.

I had chosen a relatively small bar, the 'Mannovian Star', not far away. When you leave Chora's Den, just follow the way and after thirty meters take a turn to the left. The senseless obstacles that kept me from leaving the area in Mass Effect weren't existing here, just as the entire district was far more crowded.

'Relatively small', to my understanding, was a counter roughly the size of the bar in the SR-2 plus five small tables - what you would call a typical corner pub. The salarian barkeeper poured me a glass of Jack and Coke, and while I sipped that I kept both eyes pinned at the holographic TV-screen at the backside of the room.

Fortune was smiling on me, sort of. Currently, broadcasted live from the Presidium Tower, the first in-game Council meeting was on said display.

It had been a few years - double-meaning intended - since I had last played the first part of Mass Effect. I had forgotten how rage-inducing Sarens haughty tone was. Hearing him deny his presence on Eden Prime in such a manner made me clench my teeth, and my fist around my drink.

I saw close-ups of a very frustrated Ambassador Donnel "Douchebag" Udina, Captain Anderson who appeared calm, collected and ready to strangle his old enemy through his hologram and… Commander Jane Shepard, accompanied by Lt. Alenko and Sergeant – no, Gunnery Chief - Williams.

Seeing the Commander somewhat counteracted my attempts at putting my mind at ease, but at least changed my mood from 'You'll puke soon' to 'Wtf is this…?'.

Just as her name 'Jane' suggested, she essentially was the default f!Shep, although surprisingly more resembling her model from Mass Effect 3 – but better. I figured the superior 324 megapixels resolution would do that to people.

Shepard and Kaiden were still wearing their basic Onyx-Armor, the Commander's sporting the famous N7 logo with the red-white stripe. Ashley, on the other hand, had to endure that ugly white-pink Phoenix pattern. It had never been a topic the games, as far as I could recall… yet still, I was ready to bet whatever sum that whoever had given that woman her armor, had chosen this disgusting colour scheme deliberately. Either because she was still General William's granddaughter - or just because she was Ashley Williams. After all, I had a certain dislike against her as well. I didn't flat out hate her - I had spent enough time around her in multiple playthroughs that I could kinda see where she was coming from - but her attitude rubbed me the wrong way regardless.

But that Phoenix pattern… Seriously, who had the audacity to design such an armor, and then the luck to get away with it?

"Do you have anything else to add, Commander Shepard?"

Councilor Valern's last question to Shep stopped my mind from wandering off any further. I shook my head, once more amazed at the way my brain worked sometimes, then refocused on the last act of that little farce.

I had to give the Commander credits for her composure. She looked extremely pissed, but she kept her cool. Almost.

"You made your decision. I won't waste my breath."

The asari, Councilor Tevos tilted her head to her turian counterpart who only shook his head in response.

Why hello, Sparatus! Udina may be bad, Saren may be the enemy in this part, and still that one man managed to be the worst thing in the entire game. At least for me. Seeing his face made my day even worse.

"The council has found no evidence of a connection between Saren and the Geth," Tevos said. "Ambassador Udina, we decline your request for further investigation."

"Good. Justice has been served.", Saren added, gloating as scornful as we all know him.

I had heard it a million times before. I should've been used to it. But still, my impulsive nature took control of me. I nearly crushed my glass in an iron grip, my blood almost boiled over.

"We'll see about that... wanker", I said softly, trying - and failing - to not let anyone notice my anger.

"This meeting is adjourned."

And with these final words, the transmission from inside the Tower ended. A Salarian and an Asari in a TV studio replaced it, no doubt waiting to give their own comment. Before it could come to that, however, the barkeeper lowered the volume - then sniffed in a way only salarians can.

"I guess your pompous ass of an Ambassador has finally gone too far," he said in my direction and began to polish the glasses on the counter. "Accusing a SPECTRE of attacking a colony? And Saren, of all people? *Sniff* Ridiculous."

Some turians who sat in the back of the bar murmured in agreement. Some shot me hostile glances. I took another deep sip to both cool down and give me the time to think of a good reply. It's unsettling to get spoken to in that way – especially since I was the only human in that bar, and starting a fight a few minutes before one of the most important decisions of my life was not a good idea.

I finally settled for a diplomatic answer. "Udina's a douchebag, no argument. But I wouldn't be too biased if I were you – before Eden Prime people also swore that the Geth would never leave the Veil."

"You have a point, human. But Saren? He's the most famous and successful SPECTRE the turians had in the last 300 years. He wouldn't do that, even if he hates you humans as much as you claim. I say, tomorrow Udina will crawl to the Council and try and smoothen things out.*Sniff* If he has the guts to do so."

"What about Commander Shepard?" Suddenly, I heard a female voice from behind me. I turned around, stunned. A cyan-colored asari with what looked like a cocktail was sitting at the table closest to the wall. "She was on the human colony, wasn't she?"

The salarian and every turian in the room looked at her, in various stages of disbelief and/or disgust. An older turian with fading facial markings spoke up, his voice laden with condescension. "Do you really believe what a human has to say about an attack on a human colony? Those upstarts cannot to be trusted."

I narrowed my eyes, and so did the asari. "I'll rather believe the Lioness of Elysium, the one human who has done more damage to these damned slavers on one single day, than most of the Hierarchy's soldiers in their whole lives - and not the most famous SPECTRE," she responded, "Famous for butchering hundreds of innocents whose only mistakes were to get in his way."

That statement was spoken which such a challenging voice that the air seemed to both heat up and freeze at the same time. The turian was left speechless. The look on his face was so hilarious that I couldn't hold back a short burst of laughter.

"Thank you, ma'am!" I raised my glass in her direction, feeling grateful to my only ally in this room. "Your next drink is on me."

She blushed ever so slightly and averted her eyes - a curious contrast to the perky response from before. "I was serious.", she said, a little defensive. "Thank you for your offer, but I have to decline – I am expected back in less than ten minutes."

"You don't get it", the old turian interrupted us. The alcohol in his system made him a little unsteady, but his gaze was sharp and showed awareness. "A turian soldier would never even think about betraying his superiors! Especially Saren! He is one of our best! " He leaned back and flared his mandibles, then cast me a somewhat angry and arrogant look. "And you upstarts want to ruin his name to have someone to point your finger at, nothing else – because you are too weak to defend you own worlds!"

I tried to keep a neutral face, but felt an increasing urge to shave his non-existent beard with my combat knife. But then I remembered that time actually worked for me… and, feeling restless and overconfident (no doubt thanks to my own drink), I answered with both an impertinent smile and voice. This oughta be fun.

"How 'bout a 'lil bet, then? If your precious Spectre S.O.B."- He flinched ever so slightly, so I guess he knew what that abbreviation meant - "really is as innocent as he claims, I'll buy your next drink, too." I turned to the salarian who looked quite baffled. "Here is a chit with fifty credits" – I put it on the counter – "and you" – I gazed back at the turian – "are free to buy drinks with these credits… if either Udina takes his accusations back or 72 hours pass without anything happening."

The old turian flared his mandibles once more, looking set to accept the challenge - or rather, any challenge I would throw at him."And I", he added, "will give Easum fifty creds on my own, and you are free to use them how you deem fit …. If Saren is really to be blamed for that whole affair. But" he laughed, which sent a chill down my spine, "He isn't, and in three days I will have a toast in your honor, human."

"Alright, we'll see", I smiled, admittedly in a very cocky manner, and emptied my glass with one large swing. "Until then... goodbye."

I stood up, felt the usual bit of swaying around, left the bar and tried my best to ignore the stares in my back. I wasn't entirely sure if it was a good idea to challenge a stranger like that, but... ah, fuck that. The time for hiding was over, one way, or another.

I checked my watch and – having reached the point where I didn't give a damn anymore - pulled a cigarette from the package. The whiskey felt warm in my stomach, and the first few lines of Motörhead's 'Ace Of Spades' were repeating themselves over and over again in my head...

And then, suddenly, I noticed movement behind me and spun around. The asari from before was there. I turned my face in her direction and gave her a small smile. Now that I saw her from close up... somehow, I knew her. At least I recognized the black spots on her crest and the light violet eye shadow. But where the hell…?

"I know that you were serious", I spoke up, "and I thank you for that. I doubt that many other people would speak in such a manner about and for humans." I bowed slightly, awaiting her response.

It came with a smile. "You seem to be quite confident in your fellow humans", she said, her hands folded in front of her belly. "May I ask why?"

"I hate Udina", I bluntly answered. "I really do. But despite the many things he is and might be - he is not completely stupid. He wouldn't go to the Council and blame their arguably best SPECTRE just for fun."

I lit up my cig and used the time I took the first drag to consider my next words. "As for the others: Captain Anderson and Commander Shepard are heroes, maybe even paragons for Humanity. And when both the Lionness of Elysium and the most decorated N7 soldier in the Alliance' history have something to say, it is worth listening."

"I agree", she said, and for a brief moment, her smile widened. "Unfortunately I really have to return to my duties, but it was a pleasure to meet you, Mister…?"

"Raven," I answered and reached out my hand which she took after a brief moment of hesitation. "Jess Raven. And you are…?"

"My name is Saphyria T'Maris", she answers, and bowed politely. Click. The receptionist at the embassies!

"Well, it was nice to meet you, too, Miss T'Maris." I smile and hoped that she didn't notice my surprise. "But I don't want to keep you from your duties. Goodbye!"

And with a final "Goodbye" she turned around and left. I watched her going, but I didn't really see her. I inhaled some smoke. Before my inner eye, I saw a scene from Mass Effect 2.

Illium. An asari in a white lab coat looking out of a window. She cries.

"My daughters died on the Citadel when the Geth attacked. One worked in the Embassy. The other was a greeter for the Consort."

The tobacco tasted like cold ash.

I return to my watch-post in the Upper Wards, still lost in thought but with the alcohol loosing its effect. Close to Dr. Michels clinic, I focused back on my surreal reality and prepared for some more idle time. Luckily however, it didn't take too long until the most important character appeared on the stage. Quite literally.

That time it wasn't just a holographic image, but the real deal. And damn, what a deal.

She rose up the stairs from C-SEC Academy. The medium-lengthy red hair, shimmering in the artificial light. A little bit messily, but not much. An almost white face (What was it called? Spacer tan?), dotted with freckles. Full red lips. But most impressively... the eyes. Emerald green and overcharged with energy.

Wow.

Thinking back from the distance of a few years, the amount of fanboyism that overcame me in this moment is almost ridiculios. After all, I had known that this moment would eventually come – but I had absulutely not expected to be that awestruck. I had thought... well, honestly I don't know what exactly I had thought. Maybe I had guessed that there would be a little moment of fanboyism – after all, she is the legendary Commander Shepard. But this?

She seems to take in and control the whole area with one single glance. She did not, however, seem to take real interest in any of the other people in this part of the wards – inclusing myself. For her, I probably looked like a normal passer-by taking a short break and being busy with my own life. That worked for me – if she couldn't remember seeing me early, I'd have less explaining to do. As I mentioned earlier, it did help quite a lot that the entire Upper Ward was much more populated than in the game, maybe five times as many people of all races. And I didn't stand out at all.

Shepard briefly spoke to Kaidan and Ashley – who I noticed only at this point – and then the three of them walked over to the market counters, passing by only five meters from me.

I leaned back against the handrail and release the breath I hand't noticed I was holding. Damned. This should get interesting.

I followed them but kept my distance. Again, not too difficult as long as I moved with the flow of people. There was only a small chance of me loosing them – the civilians were smart enough to give the three armed soldiers some space. Plus, I knew where they were heading, and Shepard didn't waste any time with strolling around.

I stepped on the stairs leading to the Lower Wards a minute or so after Shepard (while both she and I noticed and ignored the fact that Conrad Verner stood at the top of them) and saw them rounding the corner leading to Chora's Den.

Just a few moments later, gunfire erupted in the distance. Two incompetent rookie hitmen less in the wold. I decided to stay away from the trouble, turned around and proceeded to return to the upper area – when three heavily armed turian C-SEC agents rushed past me down the stairs.

Well, it wasn't really surprising that in real life, the rapid response forces of C-SEC would investigate gunfire in their territory. After all, they were the Citadel's police and had a job to do.

As had I.

Knowing that it was about time for me to step up, I vanished in one of the many dark corners to ready up. I checked my concealed armor for the last time, then firmly pressed the shield generator's on-switch. For a second I was embedded in blue light, then the barrier was stable and I put my jacket back on. The kneepads were drawn from my backpack, put on and fastened.

I grabbed my pistol and the knife with their respective holsters and strapped them to my tighs. The rest of the guns were still stowed inside the backpack – I didn't necessarily want to run around with an assault rifle in my hands. But it would only take a few seconds for me to take them out if necessary.

Finally, I took a single molotov cocktail, put it into my jacket and then looked everything over once more, for good measure, slapping twice on my armored chest.

Taking a deep breath to calm my flattering nerves, I walked back into the upper market and the crowds, and watched Dr. Michel's clinic from a safe distance. Shepard was back soon enough, and she and her team walked inside.

I waited.

A few minutes, a few bullets fired and a few civilians running away in panic later, and Shepard left again – with Kaidan Alenko, Ashley Williams and a very specific turian in tow. I hadn't really believed that Shep would not take him into her team, but it was still a bit of relief.

So Garrus was now in for the ride.

And they were heading to the C-SEC Academy, so I considered it a given that Wrex would join in, too.

And, just for the record, two more C-SEC guys appeared, briefly spoke with Garrus and Shepard and entered the clinic. They carried some obviously inconspicuous bags with them, and I shook my head.

It's official, I heard the voice of cynicism in my mind, wherever Shepard steps, the officials always hold some body bags ready for use.

I mentally swatted the voice away and made my way back to Chora's Den where I once again used the shadows to lay in wait.

I watched as Fist's mobsters sent all patrons and even their strippers out, and not very gently.

They didn't fire a shot, but the weapons they carried had a quite... convincing effect on the crowd. The patronage and ladies hastily made their exit until the street was empty again. I briefly wondered if half-naked women would even stand out in this area, but that was definitely not the time to think about it.

Only a few minutes later, Shepard and her now four allies arrived for the next act in this little drama. They seem to smell the trouble, spread out and took cover to both sides of the club's entrance. Shepard briefly stepped into the motion sensors, and the door had not even fully opened when a hail of bullets impacted into the floor behind the team. I heard how the Commander shouted a few short orders, then she and her squad stormed the Den, all the while returning fire.

That was my clue. Nobody saw me when I gave up my cover of trashbins, crossed the street and ran over to the alleyway. I entered, charged up the stairs and then carefully approached to look down to the lower area.

A lone person stood there, looking in the opposite direction. She wore a black and violet suit which covered her whole body, had a knife in a holster at her left leg and a shotgun stowed on her. I watch her for a brief moment, shook off my anxiety and took one last deep breath.

All or nothing. Here we go.

"Miss?", I addressed the young quarian pilgrim.

She spun around in an instant and turned her face to me. It was covered by an oh-so-familiar violet mask which concealed every feature – save for two shining bright spots which I knew to be her eyes.

"A human? You aren't Fist" she responded, showing signs of surprise in her voice. A light shudder crawled down my spine. "I was told to expect Fist, a turian, salarians and the Shadow Broker!" Her body language was hard to read but her tone suggested a rising panic.

"Miss, I am not working for either the Broker or Fist", I replied and slowly closed the distance, all the while keeping my hands visible and away from my gun. Still, with one swift motion, Tali drew her shotgun and pointed the barrel at me.

"Don't come closer! What do you want?!" Fuck. Trying to maintain my calm, I slowly rose my hands above my head and prayed that this mess would not escalate any further. "Let me explain, please."

"Who sent you?! Saren?!" Her voice is high-pitched now. Damned, not good!

"I don't want to hurt you. I am not working for Saren. I'm on your side. I wanna help you."

How I managed to keep my voice calm, I don't know. All I knew was that showing any signs of nervosity would cause Tali to open fire.

She seemed to relax ever so slightly at my slowly spoken statement, but kept her gun up.

Before she was able to ask anything, I continued as calmly as I could manage, trying to swing the situation in my favor.

"Look, Miss, I don't know what kind of business you and Fist have, but I know that he's not going to play fair. A few minutes ago, I heard him talking to his men... he said that they should 'take the data from the quarian... and deal with her.' Saren would want it that way."

She flinched and the gun in her hand hands shivered ever so slightly.

"But... the Shadow Broker..."

"The Shadow Broker never involves himself into such deals personally. He always and only works with his agents. Nobody knows who he or she really is."

I tried to remain as reasonable as possible. The image of the original Shadow Broker, the yahg from the Lair DLC, proved difficult to shake off, but I couldn't allow memories to affect this moment. Later.

"He would've sent only Fist or Barla Von to negotiate with you, and not a full squad."

Even from a distance, I could almost see how the gears worked inside that helmet, and when they stopped a decision had been made.

"I knew I couldn't trust Fist," Tali suddenly burst out, "but why do you know all that? Why should I believe you any more?"

"I know about this stuff, because I've been involved with the underworld before – everyone involved there for some time would know."

That didn't exactly cause her to relax, so I followed up with a 'Knowledge' wildcard.

"You're on your pilgrimage, right? You cannot know."

That surprised her. More than I expected. "You know about the pilgrimage?" came the unbelieving question, and the shotgun barrel twitched away from me.

I would've tried to 'sweet talk' some more, under other conditions, but the imagined clock kept tick-tick-ticking in the back of my head.

"You quarians are an interesting species, Miss, and I'd love to talk some more - but we're running out of time. They're going to be here soon." I gazed quickly to the stairs behind her. My anxiety wasn't faked the slightest.

"As for the 'trust'... if I would work for Saren, I would've attacked you from behind when you didn't look - and I wouldn't have risked to talk to you before. I know, that's not a lot," I grimaced, "but I'm afraid I can't promise you any more right now. Listen, when will the deal happen?"

"In two minutes.", she answered, having regained her composure and carefully aiming at my chest once more.

"Dammit, no time to run away", I swore. Well, of course I had planned this detail; Changing a lot of things would be more trouble for me. I had to fight.

"Listen, I know someone who would be interested in the data, a Commander Shepard who investigates the attack on Eden Prime. This data could be the evidence she needs to expose Saren as the one responsible and she is in a position to offer you protection from him."

I seem to have have the young quarian surprised once more, and took my chance.

"I'll hide behind these crates," I lowered one hand and pointed at the one to the right, "and ambush these tossers when they're attacking you. And if I am the liar you might think I am," at this point I fully met her shiny gaze, "then it's all of you against me alone. Does that sound acceptable?"

"It does," Tali nodded and finally lowered her gun, which I took as a sign to lower my arms. The tension hadn't left her her body, though. "But be warned - if you try to betray me, I will kill you.", she threatened.

"Fair enough." I gave her a tight-lipped smile, but felt not too comfortable in my skin. If someone you know as rather cute and naive, even lighthearted at times threatens to kill you, you should take that very serious.

"If you want me to attack them, just say 'The deal is off.'" Another nod, we were in agreement.

Knowing that we had only moments left, I dashed to cover. Tali returned to her former stance, but kept me in her field of view and a hand on her shotgun.

This is it.

There was no time to get into the right state of mind. I threw my bag on the ground close to the wall, ducked behind that crate and pulled my pistol from its holster and activated it, breathing out as it unfolded and all the lamps flashed green.

In the same second, I heard the hard clack-clack-clack of armored boots on the metal floor. Fists mobsters had arrived.

"Did you bring it?"

I hastily, but as quietly as I could, tucked the gun under my right shoulder, took a makeshift incendiary from my jacket and my trusted lighter from my pocket.

"Where's the Shadow Broker? Where is Fist?"

The lighters' faint click was lost under Tali's voice. The small flame set the cocktail's rug on fire. It burned almost silently.

"They'll be here. Where's the evidence?"

I didn't even have to look at the scene unfolding behin me. I remembered it in detail from my own playthroughs – including how the turian's greedy fingers tried to touch Tali's helmet.

And in the exact right moment, a slapping sound when she swatted his hand away.

"No way."

My left hand tightened its grip on my sidearm, the muscles in my right arm tensed.

"The deal is off."

Strange, was the thought that shot through my mind.I suddenly felt completely calm.

I turned around and left cover just in time to see one of the two armored salarians raising his pistol and Tali throwing her tech proximity grenade.

I, however, took two small steps forward and took aim at the turian leader. He noticed me the very second, but was too astonished to react swiftly enough. I threw my Molotov cocktail at the him with all the power I could bring. He had no chance to raise his pistol in time.

Shields offer great protection from modern Mass Effect weaponry. To sum all the technical wizadry up in few words: They are, in essence, mass effect fields around your body that counter the effect used in weapons.

An average weapons mass effect field reduces the weight of the grains of metal used as ammo inside the weapon's barrel. Mass effect weapons are first and foremost railguns, after all. But by reducing the mass of said grains while they get magnetically accelerated, they are gaining much, much more speed then they could under usual circumstances. The result: Extremely high amounts of kinetic energy on impact.

On the contrary, a shield negates this kinetic energy by basically using the same effect - reducing the ammo's usual mass back to nearly zero, so that the 'bullets' glance off even from flesh. It is not that the grain doesn't touch you - but without any weight to carry the energy, the 'impact' is compareable to letting a grain of sand falling onto your skin from a very low height. Additionally, most shields have some kind of integrated deflection, something 'pushing against' bullets to keep them from touching you just in case – and even then, you usually carry body armor for absolute protection.

Shields also work (albeit far less effectively) against blast waves... as long as they don't get overpowered and you give them the time to regenerate in-between impacts.

However, they have three essential weaknesses. Barriers common for infantry firefights are almost useless against massive projectiles. Drastically put, an armor's barriers aren't powerful enough to reduce the mass of an incoming asteroid. You're still getting smashed. So the more mass a projectile has, the lower are your odds.

Second, they lose a lot of their effectiveness in melee. A knife or even a club can't be deflected - the club has too much mass, and if someone gets a knife's blade between your ribs it doesn't really matter if the knife is weightless.

Third: It only protects against physical energy. Not against heat or cold or electricity, unless you add something more exotic.

The flask splintered on the turian's chest barrier without causing any damage. The burning fuel however was too close to be effectively blocked. A lot of the searing hot substance stuck to his face and splattered inside his armor.

His painful cries were horrific. He desperately tried to extinguish the hungry flames eating him alive. Moments later, a blast from Tali's shotgun shattered his face and sent him to the ground, lifeless. Blood splattered in all directions, shards of bone and blue all around his head – or what was left of it.

I stared on the burning corpse and felt a bitter taste in my mouth. Lucky for me, I wasn't granted the the time to throw up - a bullet barely missed me and I reflexively went back behind the crate.

It took a brief moment to shake the impression off, but then I joined Tali who was busy fighting the remaining salarian mobsters. Another two shotgun blasts took one of these guys' shields out, and I hit him with two or three bullets in chest and head. He stumbled, but remained on his feet.

Crack! A large, fist-sized hole appeared on his chest. The salarian's body jerked once, then went limp and fell down. Surprised, I turned half around to see not just three, but five people coming down the stairs from Chora's Den, a red-haired human woman taking point, all with their weapons drawn.

A turian in blue armor unshouldered his still smoking sniper rifle and pulled back the lever to cycle in a fresh heat sink.

Then I noticed my mistake, unfortunately too late. The last remaining salarian exploited my brief unawareness and fired his rocket launcher.

The shell hit the side of the crate I was half standing behind and exploded. My barrier absorbed most of the shockwave, but was overpowered. The remaining energy punched straight through the soft armor into my chest.

My feet left the ground. I felt all air getting pressed out of my lungs, the next thing I knew was that my back and head hit something hard. The impact on the hard ground hurt.

I blacked out for a second before tasting blood. "Scheiße! (Shit!)"

I winced, my chest and head felt like the were on fire. But then I registered that there were still guns blasting, so I painfully rolled out of harm's way, stood up as quickly as I could manage and, leaning out of cover, took aim.

The next time the RPG merc rose his head out of cover was his last. Seven guns blasted almost simultaneously, bullets cracked both helmet and skull. Suddenly, everything fell silent like on a graveyard.

A thought flashed through my mind, with a bit of delay – they weren't supposed to have RPGs this early – but then a jolt of pain tore through my chest and made thinking about anything else impossible. I hissed, carefully raised my right arm while keeping a tight grip on my gun and felt my head for wounds. I was bit light-headed and had to lean against the wall for support.

Could have been worse, a voice inside me spoke up, laced with cynicism. At least you're still alive. Congratz, Hero. I felt too worn out to argue against it.

Then I heard a pair of boots clicking on the floor. Having a dark feeling of 'trouble', I looked up.

Right in front of me, only two meters away and with a rather icy look on her face, stood Ashley Williams. Her expression was grim – and her assault rifle trained on my heart.

"Drop your weapon, and don't move", she ordered cooly.

I had never hated her so much before.

Despite the tension, I sighed and noticed that my shields were back up. Then, for the second time that day, I rose my hands about my head – but this time, without dropping the pistol.

I had no intention to let that three-times cursed woman ruin my day in such a way.

This, I thought, meeting Ash's gaze with one of borderless annoyance, ends just as well as I thought it would.

Addendum, July 2017- Reworked large parts and overall, polished wording, grammar, and style. In case you're wondering what I mean by 'colonist clothing' – I'm referring to M!Shep's casual outfit in ME2.

Original A/N, 2015: Wohoo! Cliffhanger! Yay... Don't worry, it' nothing fancy. That much I can say.

As you may have or maybe haven't noticed, I have reworked parts of the prologue and the first chapter thanks to some very useful feedback I've got. Please, if you are interested in this story, leave me a review! I enjoy every fav and every follow this story gets, but only the reviews give me the necessary feedback to make this whole thing better. So... please? :)

Anyway, thank you for sticking around! We have only just begun :) Next chapter will likely be released around the 29th May, depending on how fast I am with writing it. I hope to see you guys then!

P.S.: Last edit 13.8.2015 - Big shoutout to 5 Coloured Walker for correcting my sloppy mistakes with the technical weapons/shields issue. Hope this new explanation is better than the one before :)