This contains some adult themes but as I marked this story as M I hope none of you are going to be too offended. This is also a warning for the future, this is going to have adult themes, I am an adult and I am writing a story about ME that I can believe in(well apart from the whole SI part). This is not going to be porn or a slasher but neither I am going to shy away from descriptions of sex and violence. I am also going to expand/modify some of the tech that exists in ME because while gameplay in games could not have allowed certain things just by using logic some uses of technology seems rather obvious.

And please review, I would like to hear feedback. I don't promise it will change how I write of what I write but it's still helpful to know.

Edited 28/05/2021 for stylistic, grammatical and logical errors. Timeline condensed. Added description of training.

14/08/2173 Hourglass Nebula, Ossun, Erinle

The alien version of mosquito buzzed away unhappy as it couldn't pierce my skin despite trying for the past five minutes which in an insects life must be a week or something. It is a liberating feeling to know that all the creepy crawlies can't pierce your skin. It was also helpful for when you had to lie in a swamp for two days waiting outside a compound for the VIP to arrive, without armour, kinetic barriers or any power sources just in case the compound's sensors were sensitive enough to pick it up.

Salarians sure knew how to pick a disgusting planet. I was pretty sure that if any humans found it first they wouldn't settle here on the account of smell alone given off by the toxic algae let alone the insects that routinely measured in inches.

The job was simple enough, get to the planet, find the compound and wait for the guy to arrive. When he arrives kill him and then exfil. It would never be disclosed what happened here but the salarians would get the message that Alliance doesn't take kindly to sheltering of known traitors and criminals. Not that I actually was part of Alliance in any official capacity. The rifle that I had was a standard Elkoss combine Reaper Mk7 rifle. You could find these in any weapon shop. Not that I actually paid for this one. My last job involved tangling with some turian arms smugglers. They had a few crates of weapons that in fact were still back on the ship that I relieved them of. Not that they would ever go looking for it. Alliance doesn't like anyone supplying separatists on Alliance colonies with weapons.

It had been two months since I had finished my training, two months of going out on missions. Always alone, always outnumbered. The orders arrived by untraceable omni-tool message, only a seal of red cross within a circle divided in half of black and white with the words Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed Nomini tuo da gloriam written on the outside of the circle. A quick extranet search pointed me towards Knights Templar but I was pretty sure that was just a ruse. Pretty sure.

The shuttle whined as it passed above me and went for the landing. Salarian shuttles looked like a supercar version of a normal shuttle, looking like they were flying even when standing still. As the shuttle landed I picked up the rifle and peered down the scope settling into a shooting position. Less then a minute later a human walked off flanked by two salarians, I was grateful that salarians were trying to keep this compound low key and hadn't installed kinetic barriers all around the facility. Six hundred meters to the target, even with the basic ballistic compensator that the rifle had, it was a shot I could now make quite easily. The rifle bucked against my shoulder and I saw the traitors head explode into mist. With the settings on my rifle set to heavy fragmentation shot it was to be expected. I folded the rifle and pressed it deep into the muck, in a few hours they wouldn't be able to find it, it would have sunk in too deep and in a few days the swamp would degrade the inner workings of it until it would just become an inert lump of alloy and composites. Then moving carefully I slid away from my position, it would take me the best part of today to hike back to where I left the turian smugglers ship. This brought the memories of my training back.

I died again. The records aboard the SSV Einstein were altered and I died again "due to complications". When the ship arrived back at Arcturus I was given a basic Alliance combat suit and shipped over to the station in a cargo shuttle. I was met with two men in the same basic Alliance armour that I was in, with helmets that obscured everything but our eyes. The helmet mikes distorted our voices just enough that even if we met again we wouldn't recognize each other.

They led me to another shuttle that took me to Bekenstein. What I didn't know at the time was that my training had begun the minute I stepped off the cargo shuttle. Everything and everyone I would meet for the next few months would be part of my training, every situation analyzed and studied by people whose combined combat experience could only be measured in thousands of years. Their task was not to make me or the other recruits into soldiers. Alliance did that well enough on it's own. Their task was to make us into operators like the Alliance N program or turian Blackwatch but completely deniable.

My first instructor was the pilot of the shuttle. As we broke through the outer layer of Bekenstein's atmosphere he stood up, walked into the passenger compartment where I was sitting wished me good luck with a wave of his hand and jumped out of the shuttle. There really wasn't much danger in the situation but the terror that I felt was quite real. Not that I realised it at the time. Switching on the autopilot and putting it into a landing sequence is harder than you think when you have no idea how to work the controls and when part of your brain is devoted to trying to make you scream like a scared little kid. Whoever designed the shuttle however must have been told to idiot proof it as much as possible. There was only one destination in the shuttle's computer. It would turn out to be the training base.

I was greeted by a man in full armour. He explained the rules to me which were simple. No real names. No sharing life stories or details of previous life. The only way out of the training for the next month was feet first. Then after the first month we were allowed to choose, to quit or to continue on.

At first the training seemed like the instructors wanted to kill me and the rest of the recruits. Twelve instructors from almost every species in the galaxy. Three humans, two asari, two turians, drell, quarian, krogan, elcor and even a volus. No salarians because there was no such thing as an ex-STG salarian. They seemed to take it as a personal challenge that a standard alliance combat knife could do no worse than scratch me. I would be lying if I said that I didn't think of quitting, every single night after that shuttle ride I went to sleep with the thought that if tomorrow was worse I will quit. It got worse but the same part of my soul that rebelled against moving on, rebelled against simply accepting that kindness also kept me from doing so.

And I learned that even my new body had limits. Oh at first it took time to brake through the limits imposed on my body by my own mind. My mind that was used to deal with my previous totally human body. But then when that limit was broken the instructors took me beyond it. Sparring with krogan in a test of strength and endurance, learning to deal with biotics, humans to show you just why the rest of the galaxy doesn't like us. However lifting the limits of my body was not as hard as the limitations of my mind. Drell with his perfect memory teaching to notice everything around you and recall it in an instant, volus explaining the intricacies of financial transactions and the way to trace them covertly. Quarian instructing us in the fine art of stealth, be it in a crowd or in the empty hallways that echo with every step. Turian former C-Sec officer showing how to investigate a crime scene and clean up after yourself. An elcor to explain everything you never wanted to know about toxins, poisons and their effects.

My final test came one night without any indication that it was coming. It started with me waking up and feeling something hot beside me. Even in the darkness without opening my eyes I could tell that it was an asari in my bed. Asari have a slightly hotter body temperature than humans, they come from a planet that is mostly covered in tropical jungle after all and a different skin texture than humans. Let me tell you, disentangling yourself from a woman, any woman is hard. Disentangling yourself from an asari huntress that had hundreds of years of experience and when your own hormones are screaming at you to just let her do what she wishes is a hundred times harder. Braking free from a kiss that was making my brain melt I caught her other arm, the one that wasn't below my waist and squeezed it just enough so that she would release the stiletto knife in her hand. Despite what Ray Shepard said my eyes were not bulletproof. The second poly-crystalline eyelid did give my eyes more protection but it worked as built in safety goggles rather than a helmet's visor.

Pinning her down, which was not hard given my strength and weight advantage I hesitated for a moment. She had arched her back just right giving me a full view and the seductive look in her eyes couldn't have been more promising. Instead of following up on the suggestion I jumped out of the bed as if it was a vorcha and not an asari in bed with me and went for my gun. It was a Devlon Industries Stinger Mk6. The standard pistol had more shots before overheating but I preferred the stopping power that the larger Stinger had. Before I could aim it I was however thrown in a biotic field through the open door. Combat against biotics was one of the things that was thought to me so I rolled with the momentum, luckily it was just a standard push and not something more advanced like Stasis which would have immobilized me in a mass effect field.

Without wasting time to stand up fully I half-crouched just enough so that I could roll sideways or jump away and pointed my gun at the door to my room. Kal'leena, the asari that tried to seduce and kill me, walked out her hands glowing with biotic energy, the bluish purple glow illuminating her whole naked form. The light show reminded me that I was also quite naked as a certain part of me reacted to her.

Instead of attacking however she tilted her head sideways.

"You owe me a hundred credits. He is not gay." she said loudly and a shadow separated from the corner and walked towards us cloaking field disengaging and revealing Knorr Vas Halat the quarian infiltration specialist that was also one of my instructors.

"Well he seemed a bit too curious of how I looked without a suit, for quarians that's pretty much a direct proposition. Are you sure? Maybe he is faking" he said

"Yeah, even if I knew nothing about human males I could tell." Kal'leena said

"Erm?" I said not really knowing what to say at this time.

"So how long has it been Sam? Don't worry we won't judge." Knorr said his tone implying otherwise

"A lifetime but never mind that. What is this?" I said before he could further speculate on the amount of sex I was getting or not getting as the case was

"A final test, which you passed with flying colours as you humans are fond of saying." Knorr said

"And the bit about me being gay?" I asked

"We had to decide who to send in. I won in that ridiculous game you humans do decide things. Stone, paper, cutters? We had a little side bet going." Kal'leena said motioning towards the quarian

"Rock, paper, scissors. I am glad you won. But could we get some clothes on before we continue with the conversation. You are a bit distracting." I said standing up and waving the gun in my hand in her direction. Shame was an emotion I learned to ignore during my training. And it seemed that Kal'leena wasn't against seeing me naked.

"Just a bit?" she said and turning around waltzed back into the room making her hips sway more than usually

"A test?" I asked looking at Knorr and he shrugged his shoulders and walked away so I followed Kal'leena into my room.

After getting dressed I decided to get some answers.

"Why is this a final test?" I asked

"We could train you and test you on nearly everything you can physically do and mentally can take, but the only one thing that could not be prepared for is the situation you just found yourself in. 112 trainees have passed through this facility, only twenty five have passed the final test. The test is individual. It's aimed to strike you where you are the least prepared, where you have the least amount of experience and confidence." Kal'leena explained

"What's next?" I ask pointedly trying to appear nonchalant

"Your training is finished, in the morning you will leave this base. After that you will be given a cover identity. They might have a mission lined up for you already. I do not know." Kal'leena said

"You know Knorr now owes you his life." I said after a brief silence

"How so?" she asks

"If I had woken up with him in my bed trying to seduce me with a knife in his hand it would have ended quite fatally. " I said

"He would have been fine. Knorr is as slippery as they come. Sometimes quite literally." Kal'leena replied

"So what would have happened if I went for it after I disarmed you?" I asked curious

"You should know by now that not every question gets an answer." she answered coyly

Taking off from the planet I quickly entered my flight plan into the orbital network, chatting for a few minutes with the traffic control guy. My cover had been that I was a freelance agent for an exotic vacation provider. The salarian seemed rather amused when I said that humans wouldn't come here even if someone paid them to.

My flight back to the Citadel was uneventful. The ship, more like a large shuttle that I had taken from the turians was surprisingly in good working order. I was already planning the next few days on the Citadel, leave the weapons in the usual warehouse, get the ship registered in one of my names. Maybe even take a few short cargo hops to solidify my cover as an independent cargo runner. My funding came primarily from my own efforts, all the weapons and armour that I got that I didn't need in my missions I would leave in the warehouse in the Wards and a few hours later I would get payment for them. I wasn't getting as much as I could selling them by myself but this way I didn't get asked awkward questions and I wasn't bringing attention to myself.

As the ship entered the Citadel arms and I was directed to a dock I marveled, not for the first time at the beauty of this place, it was hard to believe Reapers could actually build something this beautiful. Then again I wasn't exactly sure on the whole cosmological question of how a fictional universe could exist and if it exists is it still fictional. Did the people at Bioware create it or did it exist parallel to ours and some of it bled through into the minds of the creators back in my universe. I had thought of this question but I couldn't find an answer, likely only the being that sent me here knew for sure.

Landing the ship gently on a platform I took my time getting appropriately dressed, calf-high combat boots, 2170 version of traditional jeans but made out of fabric that had absolutely nothing to do with cotton being about ten times more comfortable, plain t-shirt and a real leather jacket. The jacket was another acquisition I had from a mission. An elcor collector of alien cultural items had been buying Earth culture related things by the shuttle load and then selling off the items that didn't interest him in a shop here on Citadel. The guy that I had just taken care of used the same shop to pass on information to his salarian handler. I had managed to convince the elcor that the items he was receiving had been stolen and that he would be in trouble if he didn't help catch the people who sold them to him. He graciously allowed to install a few hidden security sensors and being relieved that he wasn't held accountable gave me the jacket. The jacket also gave me enough room and cover to carry a Kessler Mk2, cheap and not very good but precisely something that a lone cargo runner would have in his possession.

Exiting the ship I allowed my omni-tool to connect to the Citadel network and not a second later I received a ping for several messages. As I got into one of the ever-present rapid transit cabs I scrolled through them noting the usual selection of messages. Mostly spam. How was it that even more than a hundred years into the future no one had invented reliable spam filters. One however was out of the ordinary. It seemed like the usual spam messages on first glance but on the second look I knew who it was from.

Dear Mr Ritter

Have you embraced eternity lately or are you waiting for another lifetime to pass?

Our staff of friendly and approachable asari maidens are always happy to entertain new clients.

Our office is located at Citadel Tayseri wards address of KLN0344.

For more information please call 7T3195HJ9A

The first and last sentences drew my attention, the last one especially since I remembered vividly the time when Kal'leena woke me up, it was 0344 on the clock. A quick extranet search later I found the address 7T3195HJ9A and directed my taxi there. It could be a trap but if I got the message right Kal'leena needed my help and I wasn't about to let her down.