"EDI… What is that?" Asked the Commander, immediately upon entering the bridge and laying eyes on the front viewsceen, zoomed to pick up a small object as it rotated through space.

"Unknown, Commander. Shape and configuration does not match any database available. Hypotheses include, prototype mech systems, a previously unidentified species, or… another anomalous object.

"Uh-huh", James mumbled unconsciously. The object, small, green and black was tumbling listlessly through the void. It was… unnerving to look at. It almost looked like a man.

"Joker, take us closer."

"Aye-aye." All jokes were left aside. He was just as curious as the Commander.

As they inched closer to the object, EDI again spoke. "Commander, with closer examination, object appears to inhibit humanoid dimensions, although the proportions are slightly misrepresented."

"Misrepre- what's that supposed to mean?"

"It's large Commander, and from further calculations of spin velocity and trajectory, as well as initial scans, extremely dense, slightly less than 500 kg. From the variation and shape, it does not match any known dimensions of Citadel species."

"So… not a ship?" There went a couple possible scenarios about the upcoming situation. Then EDI's statement registered. An eyebrow raised. Damn. "What in hell is it doing here?"

"Unknown, Commander."

"Joker, get ready to cycle the airlock, you remember if there were tethers in there for EVA stuff?"

"Yeah there should be, last I checked at least."

"Good."

OOOO

"What the hell is going on Shepard." Was all Miranda could manage through clenched teeth. The Commander looked at her quizzically, he knew she was easily miffed, and didn't like being kept in the dark, but this was a little excessive.

The biotic seemed to sense his confusion. Her head gestured aggressively to the side – he glanced over, seeing Jack and Grunt bickering. Oh. That explains it.

"I don't know… honestly. It looks like… well, like a man."

"What?! How in the bloody hell-"

"I don't know. And right now, I don't care. I've got a bad feeling about this. I say we get it onboard, take a look, and if we don't like it, send it right back out. Got it?"

A nod. He glanced around at other crew members. This op didn't exactly require all of them - as had been expected. But he knew their curiosity had been stoked. "Jacob, Garrus, come to the airlock with me, we're going EVA. Everyone else, wait here." And for the first time in a seemingly long time, no questions were asked.

Him and his selected team gathered inside the airlock as EDI cycled it to allow the vacuum to penetrate the small room.

His chosen team, Garrus and Jacob, had proven very reliable over the past while. Maybe a little too much so. He knew they probably needed a break, but if he was bringing anyone on a leap into the unknown, he would settle for the two most experienced and professional soldiers from the group - they would keep it together, and wouldn't question orders.

"You sure about this Shepard? I mean, we don't even really know what's out there."

He briefly thought on lying, then thought better of it. "No, I'm not sure. I like this less and less the more we stay out here. But I'll be damned if my next report to the Illusive Man goes like, 'well, we tried, must've been false data, nothing was out there.' And I don't think he'll like it if we don't at least check this out."

A sigh and a nod followed his explanation. "Just checking."

They attached their tethers to the specified hooks in the airlock. A hiss joined the team, as the air was slowly removed from the environment, along with the pressure. An eery blackness greeted them. They jumped. Shepard's time as an N7 was instrumental in zero-gravity situations. The disorientation lasted only a moment, before his eyes focused on the target. The suits micro jump-jets helped guide him into position.

"Jacob, take the extra cable and secure this thing once we get in range. I wanna check it out before bringing it on board. Garrus, keep on the lookout. I don't know how this thing got here, but it sure as hell shouldn't have."

A series of affirmative's greeted him as the team edged closer to the green object. 50 meters, 40, 30. As the object spun, he caught a glimpse - and his breath. It looked like, well, a person. A large person, but a person nonetheless. As they drifted closer, his eyes caught sight of the signs of damage. A large pockmarked area covered the chest, as well as numerous scratches and dents, some looking more recent than others. A gold visor stared back at him, the object completely unmoving. He attempted to grab on to its arm. It didn't flex, didn't move – like it was locked in place.

Numerous elongated objects were located on its back. Shepard recognized weapons when he say them, but they were different than anything he'd ever seen.

This had to be a prototype mech. The size, the density, damage, and weapons all pointed to it. Granted, it was a good deal more humanoid shaped than the average mech, but still. Garrus and Jacob shared a look. Without further hesitation, Jacob clipped on the tether to the mech's belt, noticing numerous small black objects that resembled thermal clips, but were loaded with… what looked like projectile ammunition. Lots of it.

"Last chance Shepard," Garrus warily mentioned over the comms.

"I think its deactivated. It should be safe. If not, we've got Grunt and Samara back there." More trying to convince himself than the other two crew members.

The olive-green and black figure was unmoving. Arms spread slightly from its sides. Knees and hips bent, the orange/gold visor seemingly peering through the darkness into the distance.

"EDI, pull us back." The tethers snapped taut, the coils inside the ship bringing the team back into the safety of the Normandy. As they reached the door, gravity slowly reengaged, and the mech fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Shepard stared.

"What… what is it?" Jacob ventured. "Definitely ain't Cerberus. Or Alliance. Asari maybe?"

Shepard shook his head. Asari weren't too big into building mechs. They also weren't this big. It vaguely reminded him of a Krogan design, with an Asari touch to it. This must've been a heavy combat unit, it was build like a tank, and Shepard suspected it could hit like one too.

The rest of the team waited patiently outside the airlock as it cycled the atmosphere. The pressure settled the rooms objects back to their normal variances. With the addition of fresh atmosphere, it seemed that the mech immediately delocked, its arms fell to the ground, and its legs straightened flat against the floor. The door opened, and a gasp filled the silence, emanating from Tali's direction. The techie was going to be very fond of this.

"Shepard, what the bloody hell is that?" Asked Miranda, eyes wide. He could understand her surprise. He himself was feeling it.

He shrugged. "Some kind of mech, but I have no idea who made it, or why its out here." He looked to the mech's legs and saw what was undeniably a sidearm strapped to the side. He tried pulling on it, and when it didn't give, he sighed and just stared. His eyes wandered to the hands, eyes widening as he did so. 5 digits. That ruled out a couple options. In fact, the whole shape of the thing was slightly… off. Much too humanoid for his liking. The joints were seamless, the thick black under-covering hiding all of the mechanical joints and operations he knew to be hiding inside.

"Should we… power it up?" Asked an excited Quarian engineer. The Commander chuckled at the Quarian's eagerness. She was practically bouncing.

"I don't imagine that to be wise Commander," came Samara's wise voice. Shepard looked immediately to her. She seemed… unnerved. Nervous almost. He stood immediately from the sitting crouch he was in to examine the mech.

He could see the apprehension in the crew now. If Samara was worried, hell, they all should be.

"What is it?" He tentatively questioned, "You recognize this?"

"No, the design is unfamiliar. I know not of its origins. However; its aura is…. Deeply unsettling."

A head cocked in her direction. 'Aura?' was the unsaid question. The Justicar nodded slowly. "Every creature has a detectable aura, discovered only through deep meditation and reflection. It is a difficult skill to develop, but indeterminably useful. We each have our separate aura's – each that I recognize. This… creature, is as unfamiliar in its aura as it is in origin. I feel…. I feel that something is wrong with this." She then softly spoke, something that sounded like, "the souls of thousands..."

Silence hit the airlock like a sucker punch. Apart from a grin from Grunt and a 'whoa' from Jack, nobody ventured a word. He saw Tali unconsciously back towards a wall from her position examining the upper torso of the figure.

This was when Mordin entered the room. Usually the scientist was isolated in the tech lab, but he even he had felt the nervousness that had seemed penetrate the ships bulkheads. The moment he stepped in, his eyes widened, postulating theories out loud. "Amazing! Marvelous construction, shape reminiscent of Asari powered armor. Size – substantially larger than typical Asari. Helmet and chest piece rule out Asari occupant. 5 fingers, similar humanoid dimensions indicate-"

"Mordin."

"-possibly human pilot. Surfaces too smooth, too well constructed to be Alliance mech. Possibly Cerberus? No, Cerberus not this advanced. Assorted weaponry does not resemble typical mass accelerator firearms. Must be…. Must be…."

"Mordin!"

The Salarian started. "Apologies Commander, was distracted by implications of missions primary objective. Obviously foreign in origin."

"Shepard…" Came Samara once more, the slightly uncertain tone even managing to gain the Salarian scientists attention.

They all stared for a moment. It was time to get a move on. "Joker, take us out, we've got what we came here for, lets get back to the Mass Relay. Everyone else, dismissed. You can each take a turn lat-" Shepard froze. So did everyone else.

He swore he saw it move. A slight finger twitch. He stared. Rubbed his eyes, and kept staring. Grunt, seemingly oblivious to the attitude of surprise, walked right up to it, peering into the visor.

"Hey, big ugly. Wake up." Was the surprisingly nonchalant, if slightly overeager statement.

Its hand slowly clenched, and then released, opening its huge span.

Grunt raised a fist, and like it was a regular door, rapped the visor once, then twice. Knock knock. Who's there?

Nothing. No movement. The breath that Shepard didn't know he was holding escaped his lips. He put a hand on Grunt's shoulder. His mouth opened.

"Shepard-" Came a warning from Samara. Things moved very quickly after that. Or slowly. Shepard couldn't decide. It replayed through his mind more than once in the coming days.

He simply blinked. He blinked, and the thing was no longer laying there. A crack was heard, as Grunt was unceremoniously tossed against the bulkhead, body limp. A green blur dotted his eyesight, and Jacob was suddenly unconscious on the floor, and Shepard himself was tossed aside almost halfheartedly. The next thing he knew, Garrus was pinned in the corner, a green arm around his throat, a menacing blade inches from his skull. The thing, easily as tall as the lanky Turian, and about twice as wide, was still as a rock.

Garrus struggled in its grip, hands grasping at the solid arm around his neck, gasping for air.

"She- pard!" Came his rasping voice. The rest of the crew was frozen, Samara being the first to move, glowing with biotics, while the rest of the crew raised their weapons.

The Commander raised his hand slowly, 'wait' was the message. That thing had Garrus. He opened his mouth to speak, to attempt to initiate some form of negotiations with the green behemoth. He was beaten to the punch.

"Identify yourselves." Barked a low, gravelly, almost comically rough sounding voice.

The Commander took a deep breath. This was to be handled delicately. Extremely so. Hostage negotiations, like with any good Special Forces group, was handled very well in his N7 training. He knew he had to be very careful. Honesty was the best policy here. "My name is Commander James Shepard, I'm with the Systems Alliance Navy. This is my crew. We just picked you up. Please, let's just talk about this." He said, slowly, calmly, as he was trained.

A pause. The rock hard voice asked another question. "What affiliation do you have with the UNSC?"

Shepard hesitated. He had no idea what this thing was talking about. Yet he had a sinking feeling in his gut that his crews very lives depended on his answer. They looked at him expectantly. He sighed inside. Time to put that training to the test.

He looked back at the thing, and raised his left hand- the one not controlling his M-8 Avenger, slowly, deliberately. Like an attempt to calm a startled animal, he motioned with his hand to calm down. Relax.

The green machine didn't move -arms still strong. Garrus was gasping for air now.

"Look," the Commander said slowly. "We don't want any trouble. We don't know who or what the UNSC is. Just tell us who you are, and we can help you get back to them. That's what you want right? To get back to them?" His declaration, syntax and word choice aimed as if directed at a child, rather than a 2 meter killing machine, everything except his tone, which he kept calm, controlled, and mature.

The arm around Garrus slightly loosened. Slightly. "What is the System's Alliance?" Shepard grimaced, 'so much for answering that question," he thought. Then he was confused. Wait, what? How did this thing not now of the Systems Alliance? He looked at Miranda, a similar expression written on her face, along with one he was not privy to often – uncertainty – with maybe a tinge of fear.

"The System's Alliance is Earth's governing body..." The green figure stiffened slightly at the mention of Earth, if only slightly. "We are a part of its Navy. We only want to talk. Just set down my friend, and I promise we will answer all your questions."

A hesitation. "Discard your weapons." It was an order so laden with authority that before he knew what he was thinking, Shepard was already lowering his rifle. He looked over at the others and nodded at them to do the same. They set their guns down, Jack was a little bit more hesitant.

"Shepard what the actual fuck? You're kidding right?"

"Just do it," he hissed. Now was not the time to mouth off. Standing back up, he saw that the thing hadn't moved. A small part of him instantly regretted disarming himself and his team. As he looked at the green armored tank behind Garrus, a feeling that he had come to trust inherently and instantly came over him - an instinct. Whether or not they had their guns, it wouldn't matter. He swallowed. It wasn't like him to get scared. He wasn't necessarily so now. but his teams lives were in his hands. Every decision he made would either lengthen or shorten their lifespans.

After another brief hesitation, the arm left Garrus' neck, who instantly dropped to his knees, panting for air and holding his throat. The blade that had been threatening the Turian's well-being, a foot long wicked looking angled piece of metal, was returned to its place, a sheath on the small of the giant's back. Not that it probably made a difference.