A/N: This is a re-upload with major changes, go to the bottom for more details.

I knew it was a bad idea to start another playthrough after I got off work on Friday. It had been around a year since I went through the trilogy, and I'd finally bought Andromeda on Steam to try it out when I finished the originals again. Problem was, I did pretty much nothing but play for two days straight. On Saturday, I got a total of maybe two hours of sleep and only stopped to take a leak and cook something in the microwave; I don't even remember what it was.

I pushed through the first one in record time, for me at least, killing Saren and Sovereign once more around five pm on Sunday, and in my quest to blitz through the games, I completely forgot about church and how I would be working the following morning. I'm not sure when my body finally decided it needed sleep, but I closed my eyes to relax them a bit, and the next thing I know I'm hearing an alarm go off. Oh come on, what is it now?

That's when I remembered what day it was. Crap, I need to take a shower!

I stumbled out of the recliner chair I'd been living on for an entire weekend after gently putting my laptop and wireless mouse down; careful not to scratch the relatively brand-new computer, seeing as I bought it a month ago so I could play the newer games that my old one just couldn't handle. When I looked around, I noticed the shades were drawn, so I opened them to help me see in what I assumed to be early morning. What was on the other side was definitely not the small, back-country town I was used to. Uhh, ok, either this is a really vivid dream, or I'm hallucinating due to sleep deprivation, because last I checked, cars can't fly! And since when did I live in a city?!

I looked down at the street to try and see if I could figure out where I was, only for my breathing to outright stop as I noticed the bystanders; able to clearly see their faces even though I had to have been ten stories up. Ignoring my seemingly better than 20/20 vision, I had perfect eyesight before so I didn't really notice it at first, I gaped at the people walking down below. After all, I'd recognize them from anywhere thanks to what I was doing that led up to this. Turians? Salarians? Asari? And is that an elcor?

"What the hell is going on?!" I said, pausing when I heard a strange sort of echo to my words. A flanging echo at that. Almost sounds like good ol' Garrus. Wait a second...

On a hunch I looked down at my hands, and immediately felt the blood drain from my face. Instead of my light tan, almost pale, skin, and the scar I had on my left hand's middle finger from a knife sharpening accident, I had three fingers on each limb covered in silver metallic plates that ended in sharp, retractable talons. "Oh. Oh..."

I looked out the window again, my brain in too much shock to register surprise when I saw the Destiny Ascension off in the distance, and something in my mind clicked when I put it all together. "I'm on the Citadel, in Mass Effect, and I'm a turian."

At first I scoffed, thinking it was ridiculous. A second glance at my hands and I started to chuckle, it quickly turning into a full-blown laugh, and I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, the flanging echo to all of it furthering me on, until I started to cry; the realization that no, this was not a dream impacting me full force.

It took another five minutes to calm down enough for me to think rationally; allowing me to notice the surrounding apartment 'I' lived in.

There weren't many decorations aside from a cloths rack with an odd-looking coat on it, and pictures of what I assumed to be family next to the bed on a nightstand, with foreign writing on a few of them. I picked one up, the edges frayed with the passage of time, and it showing four turians clustered around a fifth one in what appeared to be a black and blue uniform, all of them with what I recognized as a happy smile on their alien face's, even if I didn't understand how I knew that. At first I thought I wouldn't comprehend the words, I never was very good with languages not at least based on the English alphabet, but when I read them, I actually read them; the lettering and what was said somehow as clear to me as my native tongue. 'To our son, Mikaius. From your parents, Tastinus and Atalera Falinian. Make us proud.'

I don't know why, but each name sounded familiar; as if I'd heard them before. I put it back down, a sense of deja vu coming over me for a second, only to disappear just as quickly. I went over to a desk that had, if my intuition and what I'd seen in the game was right, a holomonitor on it, and turned it on; only to then wonder precisely how I was able to do such a thing.

Just another question to add to the steadily growing pile.

Either it didn't require a password, or it had some type of facial recognition program, because it went straight to what passed for a home screen; everything being in turian at least making it easier for me to understand. A haptic keyboard popped up out of nowhere, and the controls seemed to be easy to use as long as you were acquainted with a standard touch screen interface, so I didn't have any problems with it.

Figuring I may as well get used to the way it sounded, I decided to talk to myself while I messed around with the awesome futuristic computer from what I previously believed to be a fictional reality. What? It's a shiny new computer and I get lonely, so of course I'm going to talk to myself seeing as no one else is there with me. "Alright, first thing's first: the date by human measurements. March of 2183? Ok, so the first game's already started. Speaking of games, let's see what's on here: Galaxy of Fantasy, Alliance Corsair, Grim Terminus Alliance, Third Coil, certainly a lot of them. Well, at least I won't be bored, but I can always check them out later. Ah, here we are: Email! Wait, so just Email, no brand name or anything like that?"

I then remembered what the internet was called in this universe. "Ohhh, I get it, Extranet mail! Alrighty, let's see here….a message from a batarian business promising 'a surge in masculinity for males of every species'." I snorted "Yeah right, nice try hacker. Delete. A message telling Mikaius that his rent is due-whoa, hold up a second, why am I reading his mail?"

I glanced at the photo from earlier in concern, and picked it up again; bringing it over with me when I sat back down in front of the monitor, as I had a suspicion I needed to confirm. "Camera…camera…where's the..." That's when I noticed my phone on the ground next to my laptop. Weird, that should be in my pocket. Then again, who am I to complain; at least I have it.

I picked it up and used the built-in camera like a mirror; giving a first real look at my new face. "*sigh* Well, in the words of Shepard: you were always ugly. Wait, no, not the point." I compared the two, the face in the camera and the one in uniform, and quickly reached a conclusion.

"So….I? Suppose that's an accurate term. I have a family here. Okay, good to know." I shrugged, accepting it. I know most people would've missed their own family, but I only had an older brother and father in my immediate one; Mom died in a car accident when I was young and Dad never remarried, and I was never close to my extended family. We keep in touch, or kept I guess considering where I am now, but we'd all moved on with our lives years ago.

I slipped the phone into a pants pocket, glad some things were used by people other than humans, and sat at the future version of a computer desk once more. "Now then, what about those other messages? Hmm, junk mail, junk mail, bills, subscription fees to Fornax, wait, did I read that correctly? Apparently I did. Huh. I'm going to need to go over this thoroughly at some point. Anyway, where was I? Ah, finally, something useful! 'Sergeant Falinian, due to recent events surrounding the Eayan Allah attack and the subsequent deficit in C-Sec's available manpower, you are being transferred to the Zakara Ward Precinct Enforcement Division until further notice. The district officer in charge of your new posting is Lieutenant Armando Bailey, human, so you are expected to treat him accordingly.' Whoa, whoa, hold up; Bailey? And what's this about an attack? Just another thing to look up, I suppose. Maybe we never heard about it in the games because it wasn't that big a deal." I shrugged again, adding it to the pile of questions "What's this, a survey? 'Find out if you know what happens to Earth in 21…86…." No way that's a coincidence.

The first question was simple: 'Are the Reapers real?' My eyes narrowed in suspicion, but I went along with it. "Yes."

The next was a bit more tricky: 'Is subject "Savior" Paragon or Renegade?' "I always went Paragon. Ok, more like Paragade, but come on, Balak wouldn't have stopped at one."

I hesitated to answer the third, knowing full well that whoever made this had something in mind when they did. Well, I came this far, no point in stopping now. No way I'm just going to shout it out for anyone to find it, though. I remember the running joke in fanfics about the cyber security being terrible here, and there's probably a good reason for that. The question was: 'Who is "Archangel?"' "The sarcastic turian that I always picked with a female playthrough."

The fourth one almost made me walk away then and there, but as one of my favorite youtuber's regularly says: no guts, no glory, chicks dig scars. It was: 'Who is the Illusive Man?' Welp, either this is legit, or I'm going to disappear somewhere and never be seen again. Still not stupid enough to just say who, though. "Jack Harder with a p."

I think it was confused for a second because it didn't immediately go on to the next one, but it did eventually. The final question in the 'survey' may as well have been pointless after the other four, but at least it had an easy answer. 'What did Bioware create in 2007?' "Mass Effect."

It gave a bell-like 'ding' when I finished, and asked for several pieces of information regarding who I am, where I was, the last thing I remember before getting there, and a few other things about my background. I briefly thought about using my original name, but eventually went with the turian one; realizing that 'I', that is to say the me that fell asleep last night, had probably been dead for over a hundred years. "Mikaius Falinian, I'm 31 years old, or I used to be anyway, no clue how old I am now, and pretty sure I'm in an apartment complex on Zakera Ward that's at least ten stories high. I fell asleep playing…well, THE games, before I woke up in the body of a turian C-Sec officer. Used to be a captain and fighter pilot in the US Air Force, moved into the private sector when my term of service ended." Why do I get the feeling I should include a bit more than that? *sigh* Well, figure it wouldn't hurt to let whoever it is know a few extra details.

"I'm trained as a marksman in case of emergencies, and flew nine combat missions as anti-tank and ground support in anti-terrorist operations across the middle east. Also….I kinda just got here, so an explanation would be nice." I sent the message after reading it a second time to ensure it covered everything I wanted it to, and was told to expect a response in 2 to 5 hours, so I went back to and sat down on the chair that 'brought' me here. I was mildly annoyed to learn it hadn't changed a bit from what I remember it looking like before. Oh, sure, I get my entire body turned into a spirits damned alien with razors for fingernails, but you stay the exact same. Just my luck.

I briefly paused to think about why I would use a thoroughly turian curse, and after a few seconds I waved it off as just a random event inspired by my current situation, leaning back on the recliner while letting out a sigh of pleasure; now thankful it was unchanged. Ahhhhhh, still the best chair I've ever owned. Figure that I've got the time to spare, so where was I? Oh right, fighting my way through Horizon with my Sentinel. Heheheh, playing Mass Effect inside of Mass Effect. Irony most definitely abounds. Hope the battery lasts until they get here.

I flipped it open so I could enter the password, only to blink when I saw the power indicator showing it was currently charging even without a cord. "That's certainly convenient. The future's wireless technology at work? I'll have to find out later. For now, there's Collectors to kill! Err, the digital kind that is."

Ten minutes later, I learned how difficult it is to move using the standard wasd controls when you have only three fingers, thanks mostly in part to dying six times in a row against the Praetorian. "FUUUUUUUUUUU-"

KnockKnockKnock...

I paused the game and looked at the door, having a basic idea who was there. About damn time.

I got up and opened it, expecting this particular visitor. What I wasn't expecting were the four eyes on the person's face. "So you're the one that made that 'survey'?" I asked, somewhat startled.

The Batarian smiled back at me; he looked tired with heavy bags under all four of his eyes, but he seemed rather cheerful. "Not exactly, but these days we Station Chiefs keep a close eye on the old program regardless." He explained, stepping inside and activating his omnitool.

"So how has your job been treating you, Sergeant?" He asked, scanning the room with his 'tool.

I narrowed my eyes at the friendly tone, but played along; glad I wasn't the only one security conscious. "Good enough, all things considered. The Executor's still a pain to deal with, but what else is new."

"Oh nothing really, but with everything so shaken up given the recent Eayan Allah attacks; I'd assume that you would be extra jumpy regarding potential human terrorists." He replied, still keeping that chipper tone, even as he narrowed his own eyes at his omnitool; tapping in a few commands before lowering it.

"Alright, it's safe to talk; you had a bug planted in your room, though it looks like it didn't pick up anything important." He explained, turning to look at me.

I raised an eyebrow, brow plate, whatever it's called, and went back to my chair; intent on being relaxed for however long this ended up taking. "So, where was it anyway?"

A corner of his lips turned up in what looked to be a tired smirk. "If the scan was right, you are most likely sitting on it at the moment."

I jumped out of my chair, surprising myself with how fast I was, and eyed the cushioning warily. "So now even my own furniture can spy on me. What next, cameras in the refrigerator magnets?" I muttered.

The batarian shook his head in amusement, before turning serious; both pairs of eyes staring at my own. "You're probably wondering just what happened that brought you here, how you're in a strange alien body, why, and if you can return. Sadly, I only know a partial answer to that second one, and the rest are a complete mystery." He paused, most likely to judge my reaction.

Figures it wouldn't be that easy. Well, as the old Bear Grylls saying goes: Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. "Alright then; how am I a turian, and I'm assuming you're like me, so how are you a batarian?"

He blinked his eyes in a sequence, lower left-upper left-upper right-lower right, apparently not expecting my response. "I have to say, you're taking this remarkably well."

"I had my little breakdown just a few minutes after I got here, and I tend to recover fairly quick once the shock wears off." I explained casually, shrugging after I did. I'm not sure if it was because I was used to a rapidly shifting routine thanks to the time I'd spent as a pilot, or if it was a result of being raised by just my dad, but I'd never had problems adjusting to a new environment.

"I see. To put it simply: the brains of the people that used to occupy these bodies were rewired, their original personalities and memories replaced by ours. This process leaves holdovers from the previous owner in the form of understanding and being able to speak their language fluently, certain facial expressions or body postures, and a tendency to use curses associated with the species in question." I looked at him incredulously, and he noticed. "I'm not lying; I've been trying to keep myself limited to normal human ones, but I can't seem to stop the pillars damned words from making it out!" He blinked in sequence again, and sighed heavily.

Oh. So that whole 'spirits' thing from earlier wasn't a random event. Joy.

"I think I know what you're talking about." He raised a double eyebrow, prompting me to continue. "Pretty sure I already experienced it at least once. So, with the basics out of the way, what now?"

"Now, we go into who I am, who I work for, and why it's important to you." He gestured to my recliner, and I had a feeling my hunch about this taking a while would end up being right, so I followed the silent advice. He did much the same with the chair by the computer desk; moving it directly in front of me to make it easier for the both of us. "My name is Obram Cokeswar, obviously it's a pseudonym since it's a Batarians; but it's one that I've long since accepted as my real name. I am the Citadel Station Chief of the Group for Specialized Tactics."

"Group for Specialized Tactics? And that is?" I trailed off, looking at him expectantly, and he nodded; going into further detail.

"A few years ago, some 'Travelers', that is what we are called by the way, realized that there were others out there like themselves, and so they banded together with one purpose in mind: to stop the Reapers.

"It started off with my group here on the Citadel, and another group over on Omega; and overtime it grew and ballooned to what it is now. Close to two thousand 'Travelers' are now in the GST; we started out as nothing more than a loose coalition of people donating their spare change to equip and field teams to go and deal with the ugly in the galaxy.

"Along with the Travelers, there are approximately five thousand non travelers employed by us; but most are Case Officers, and they think we are just another intelligence agency. GST is Black by the way, no one is supposed to know it exists except for those employed by it; the Alliance oversight committee, who also believe it's just another Black Project, and those aliens that are in our good graces."

"Spirits! Two thousand others are already here? What's been done to prepare for the war? I'm assuming Eden Prime's already happened, so Shepard is out there hunting Saren and Sovereign; am I right?" It didn't take me long to realize the first word I used, and I had to resist the urge to cringe. Obram, however, did cringe; looking a little uncomfortable.

"The event you have in mind went off….slightly different than the original version. Combine it with what's taken place over the past month, and the only way I can put it is this: canon has gone straight off the rails." I opened my mouth to ask him to clarify, only to close it when he held up a hand. "I'll send the updated version of recent history to you on physical paper, along with a 'guide' in how to acclimate to your situation.

"That reminds me. I did some digging and came up with 'your'" he did air quotes while he said it "personal history; I'll send a more thorough description along with the rest of what we've discussed, but here's the basic summary, so be sure to memorize it: your name is Mikaius Falinian, and you're 27 years old. You're a Sergeant in C-Sec and have been on the force for 6 years; you used to have a salarian partner that you served with until he retired last year and moved off the Citadel, and you haven't been given a new one as of yet. Your parents and two siblings live on Palaven; their names are Tastinus, your father and 49 years old, Atalera, mother and 46, Amulitus, brother and 20, and Juana, sister and 17. According to what I've learned, you've been transferred to Zakera Ward; is that correct?"

I nodded absentmindedly, too busy trying to absorb all the information about what was effectively my new life to pay attention to what he asked, and he continued.

"Then that brings me to why I'm seeing you face-to-face. Normally, I'd send a courier to pick up a new traveler such as yourself; but in your case, I decided it needed a more…personal touch. You see, Zakera Ward is where the GST's base of operations is located on the Citadel, and 'Ghosts', the special forces branch of the organization, regularly come here for various purposes."

"Ghosts? Really? What, so do they all wear skull bandanas too?" I asked sarcastically.

He chuckled lightly, and his lips curled into a small smile. "They do indeed, yes. As such, seeing as we don't have someone in your position, I was wondering if you'd like to become one of our Case Officers."

"You brought that up before. Just what is a 'Case Officer'?"

"A Case Officer is what all you movie types call a Spy, or Secret Agent. A Case Officer's job is essentially just gathering intel on something or someone, but it's not like the movies where it's instantaneous; this is the kind of stuff that goes on for months or even years before you can produce anything viable. I'm grossly over simplifying things of course."

"Ah, ok, so you basically just want me to live a normal life for the most part; correct?"

"That's the gist of it, yes. I, or someone else in the higher ups might occasionally ask you to do something specific, but for the most part you'd go about in a regular routine; and if you notice something important or abnormal going on with C-Sec, I'll give you the contact information to one of my subordinates so you can get in touch with us. That's assuming you accept, of course." He finished with a bit of hopefulness in his voice.

I thought it over for a few seconds, and found that for the most part it seemed like a good proposition; there were just a couple issues that needed to be nailed down. "I assume that this comes with a few perks?"

He readily answered, though there was an undertone of guarded caution to it. "A few, yes. What did you have in mind?"

"First off: let's say I get caught somehow, whether following the orders of one of these 'higher ups' or just getting noticed for how differently I'm acting compared to before. What will the GST do?"

"We protect our own. If possible, we'll remove the person or people that are a security risk, and if not, we can relocate you elsewhere with a different identity. If neither of those is an option, then that leaves two choices: either we have a Ghost team extract you, or we ensure they don't have the chance to begin an interrogation." The vagueness of that second one was worrying, but in the end, I suppose there wouldn't be a choice at that point. Not that it makes it more reassuring of what it implies. Still, having support in the form of commandos named after the best of the best in Call of Duty has got to mean something; and I'd be on my own otherwise.

"Alright, second issue: how much would I be getting paid for this?"

He raised a double eyebrow, but the smirk gave it away; he probably knew that space cop or not, my salary was fairly low, according to what little I'd seen that is. "Case Officers receive a monthly check to make up for additional expenditures 'on the job', and if at the end of the month it hasn't been emptied out, the funds are forwarded to a separate account for your personal use. Just try not to go overboard; if you spend too much all in one go, people will start to wonder where the extra money is coming from."

"Alright, that makes sense. Lastly: are we still going to be here when the geth and Sovereign attack?"

His mouth became an even line at that, and he didn't answer right away; a worryingly long stretch of silence before he finally did. "I don't know. To be honest, it's entirely possible that won't happen now, or that it might even succeed. Thanks to how much has been changed, there's no way to know for sure."

"Well…shit. That's going to be a problem." I became silent myself then, going over my options and what each one entailed. "Fine. I can't see any real reason to turn you down, at least not yet anyway, so I'll be your 'secret agent'."

He brightened up almost immediately upon hearing me accept, the bags under his eyes receding, if only momentarily, and he stood up; a wide smile on his face as he offered me a hand. Not being rude, I stood up myself, and shook it firmly. "Glad to have you with us, Officer Falinian."

"Please, call me Mikaius. Whenever I hear someone call me that, I look around for my father." I said with a smirk, making him chuckle at the line 'borrowed' from Garrus.

I've always wanted to use that.

"One more thing: if you could come with me to my aircar, there are some tests that need to be performed at our base." He said.

"What tests?"

"Nothing too serious; we just need to make sure you're healthy, get your biometrics entered into the database, that sort of thing."

"Ah. Alright, lead the way. Just let me turn off my laptop first."

He tilted his head in confusion, and looked at me with furrowed double brows. "You didn't mention bringing something like that with you when you finished the survey."

"I didn't?" he nodded "Huh, must've slipped my mind. I'll need to save and quit the game first."

"Did I interrupt something?" He asked good-naturedly.

"Not really; I was about to start Samara's recruitment mission when you got here."

He squinted his eyes, funnily enough letting me know where the racial slur came from, before they widened to the point they exposed the normally unseen white surrounding them. "You brought the second game with you?" He asked in open shock.

"Hmm? Oh, that. No, I have all three plus Andromeda. Got a couple other games on there along with some of my favorite movies, some books on the future of aerial warfare and stealth aircraft, I may not fly anymore but I still have an interest in it, and a few other things I transferred from my last laptop that I need to go through. Why, don't you have them already?"

He went back to being calm and collected while I talked, although he seemed to become even more jovial and genuinely happy the further I went. "Would you mind if I got a copy of your data? Every now and then a Traveler comes here with highly valuable or long discontinued research, and yours could turn out to be a treasure trove."

I raised a brow plate at the excited tone, but shrugged, not seeing a reason to refuse. "Sure, go right ahead; I've got nothing to hide. I'm not seeing a flash drive on you though."

He snorted, bringing up his omnitool. "Don't need one."

I blinked. "Oh yeah, forgot about that. I'm going to need to learn how to use one myself; aren't I?"

"We'll cover that at the base." He watched a steadily increasing bar on his 'tool until it completely filled up around ten seconds later. "Done. I'll send it to the tech's so they can take a look at it. You have my thanks for being willing to share so readily; some would have hoarded such a thing to themselves. I'm glad you are not one of them."

I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment at the honest praise, noting the odd scaly texture of the exposed skin, and cleared my throat. "Well, you know, it's all in a day's work."

The loud bark of laughter startled me for a second; surprised it came from the man in front of me. When he spoke, it was with genuine mirth. "I think we'll get along just fine. I'll be outside your door when you're ready. Oh, and you may want to grab that coat."

"Why?"

"This isn't a game anymore, Mikaius. The Citadel is different from what you remember, and one of those differences happens to be weather patterns. Zakera has a fairly large human population, and right now it's the middle of March, so the early spring rain showers have already started in some areas."

Weather on a space station? I mean I know the Council is wasteful and extravagant at times, but this is stretching it a little. Guess he wasn't kidding about canon being off the rails.

"Alright, I'll be out in a minute."

He nodded, leaving me alone in the apartment after the door shut behind him. "This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder. First being a turian, and now this. *sigh* Well, no point in delaying the inevitable."

I went to the clothes rack and examined the coat. It looked a lot like what those turian npc's on the Citadel wore in the second game; with long sleeves and a hood that came over the fringe, and ended around the forehead. I slipped it on, struggling a little to get my head through, and walked out.

Like he said, Obram was leaning on the wall next to my doorway, and nodded upon seeing me; walking towards what I assumed was a stairway. "Not going to take the elevator?" I asked.

He paused mid stride without turning to look at me, and spoke with more vitriol and pure hatred than I thought possible from the typically cheery batarian. "You'll come to learn that while some things are different, many others have stayed the same. And elevators are one of them."

I gulped at how dark it came across, and immediately followed him; now almost afraid to even bring up the subject. If not for the boost in hearing thanks to being a turian, I probably wouldn't have picked up on the muffled snicker as I approached, and I scowled at the joke made at my expense; a low growl emanating from a previously unknown part of my body.

"My apologies; I do that with every new recruit we find. You should see some of the reactions I get; one asari girl literally pissed herself." He chuckled, noticing the glare I sent his way. "Come now, I need to find entertainment wherever I can in this line of work."

I grumbled various expletives, not even caring when I slipped into turian ones regarding the 'dishonorable spirits' of batarians and his 'unprofessional attitude' towards a job; and it only served to make him chuckle even more.

We went down the stairs without another word, and walked to the front entrance of the apartment building. The first thing I felt when coming 'outside' was a gust of cold air; telling me it was in the upper 40's. I shivered slightly, not expecting the sudden temperature shift, and pulled my hood up in an attempt to keep warm. That's when I noticed the surrounding aliens all had umbrellas out, and I learned why when the first droplets of water started to fall from a hidden sprinkler somewhere.

Obram noticed my discomfort and pulled one out himself, handing it to me. "Turians don't like the cold very much, and as I understand it, most don't like being wet either. Something to do with not being good swimmers if I remember it correctly."

"What about you?" I asked, nodding in thanks as I extended the umbrella.

"Khar'shan is a desert world for the most part; the days are scorching hot and the nights are freezing cold, so this is actually rather comfortable for me. As for the rain, I don't mind; you get used to it after a while, and it reminds me of where I used to live."

"If you say so." I said skeptically.

"Trust me, this is mild compared to the winter seasons around here. I think you'll enjoy the summer ones though; most turians become energetic when the temperature gets above 85. Apparently, it's considered perfect weather by 'your' kind's standards."

"I'll take your word for it. The seasons back home could get crazy at times, but they were fairly mild for the most part; where I was at least."

We passed the minute it took to get to his car in normal conversation; looking for all the world like we were simple, everyday bystanders just discussing the weather. We got inside, it being a nondescript one that looked completely generic, which I suppose was the point, and he started it up. The first second of near weightlessness was...unsettling to say the least; but the feeling of momentum when it flew out and up was familiar enough for me to relax. However, the view I received when we got high enough turned out to be nothing short of beautiful; the games not doing it justice in the slightest.

He must've picked up on my reaction, although that may have been thanks to my wide-open mouth, and chuckled; saying with as much grandeur as he could muster, "Welcome to Mass Effect."

Post-Edit A/N: So... Google Drive Sucks, and it apparently cut off about a third of this sidestory; and I didn't find out until Edge Messaged me asking if intended to do anything with the missing 1/3 of the chapter.

Cue embarrassed anger from all parties involved.

In any case, the reason It took so long to get around to fixing this is because Ian and I were debating what to due with it; before we finally decided that it would just be better to re-upload the chapter on our respective sights.

I hope this makes it better; Edge sorry this took so long to get around to fixing, I wish you luck on your own fics and eagerly await for when you're finished with them. And I hope we can work together on future projects.

Pre-Edit A/N: A Big thanks to site writer Edgeoftoday for this side story, go check him out for his own fics.

Ian and I are currently on Chapter 21 of the main story; and i'll be honest, it's a bit of a doozy. I will say you guys will, at the very least, will be shocked by it.

Now then, go check out our new story Half Life: Entanglement; it's updated every Wednesday, and frankly I think it's our best work.

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