Hey there! I'm keenly aware of the fact that I've left all of my stories abandoned for some time. I've lately been obsessed with the idea of Gears of War in Space, so here I am! Any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Sweat rolled down Ben's forehead as he gritted his teeth, pushing himself off the ground. He let out a breath as he fully extended his arms, sweat soaking the black shirt and cargo pants he was wearing. He lowered himself once more to the floor, getting as close to the steel deck plating of the cargo bay as he could. Again Ben pushed himself up off the floor in a perfectly executed push-up.

"One Hundred!" Shouted Ben as reached the apex of his exercise. He stood up straight, brushing the sweat away from his eyes. He had been exercising for the past hour in the cargo bay. He had created a regime as he went, starting with twenty laps around the hold. Following the laps were four sets of fifty jumping jacks. Next he had completed four sets of thirty box jumps. Following those he completed multiple sets of squats and pull ups. After those he had performed three sets of one hundred sit ups. Having just completed one hundred push-ups, all he needed to do was a few cooldown laps around the Cargo Bay. 'At least it'll pass some time and keep me in shape.'

Ben proceeded to start a light jog around the perimeter of the Cargo Bay. His breath came out in short, labored breaths. His black combat boots made that tell-tale 'I'm brand new' squeak upon the steel floor, though it had been significantly quieted compared to how loud it had been at the start of his regimen.

He had began the workout as a way to take his mind off of his current situation. The physical exercise had helped to distract him, but he couldn't help but dwell on his situation. He was a Gear, a rookie, that had been flung across the stars in a highly improbable series of events. If you were to follow conventional thinking, plus the laws of physics, he should be a splattering of atoms on the steel deck plating in a back alley of Omega. He was damn lucky.

Looking at the small shuttle that was in the hanger as he passed it, his mind drifted to his home. Sera, his home planet, was so far away. Right now his family, squad and people were fighting a war for the survival of the COG and Humanity. Who knew when he'd get back? Would they have defeated the Locust Horde by then? Is it possible that they may be defeated by then? Maybe some other outcome. So much could happen between this moment and the moment of his return. He just hoped that he was able to see his home again.

'I jumped headfirst into this without fully thinking seriously about what was going on and what it truly meant. I'm on a spaceship, helping another version of humanity and I may never be able to return home if my luck doesn't hold up…dammit.' Ben growled in frustration. This line of thinking was getting him nowhere fast. He needed to focus on his new objective. What would Delta do in his situation? 'They'd jump headfirst into it and worry about the details later. They would help the Commander and figure out how to get home on the side...maybe professor Solus could help me? I'll have to go up and ask him…I should probably shower first.'

/?/

"Shepard, I'm seriously starting to doubt your abilities." Said Miranda. She was sitting at her desk, typing away another report to the Illusive man. As always, she looked the epitome of perfection. John was sitting on the edge of her desk, sifting through his omni tool's data banks. He let out a small sharp laugh.

"What's to doubt? Are you telling me that you don't see the benefit of having him on board?" questioned the Commander. Miranda rolled her eyes. Her hands were still working hard away at typing.

"Commander, I don't deny that there are many combat benefits that come from having a crewmember such as him. However, I must object to your entertaining of his ludicrous story." She stated. The commander stood up, a small frown dawning upon his face. He looked much older when he was like this. She groaned internally as she could see the telltale signs of a 'firm talking to'.

"Miranda, you've seen all of the evidence for yourself. He's not a normal human. Didn't you see Mordin's report?" Asked Shepard. He was referring to a report that Professor Mordin Solus had created after he became situated onboard the ship. He had been extensively investigating and testing the DNA of Benjamin Carmine as well as well as the bio-conductive fluid they had extracted from him.

"Yes, I am quite aware of the findings that Professor Solus presented in his report." Answered Miranda stiffly. She didn't like the report, it was far too sporadic in subject matter, but at least it was thorough.

"So then you see why I'm inclined to believe him?" Shepard walked over to the window in the room as he spoke. He stood before the glass, legs stanced and his hands clasped behind his back. A firm expression fixed itself upon his face, drawing the skin and scars tight. He looked every bit a Commander in his Officer's uniform, even if it was a cerberus one.

Once again Miranda Sighed, this time audibly so that Shepard could hear it as well. She halted her typing as this conversation was obviously not going to end soon. She crossed her arms across her chest, the limbs resting just below her bust.

"While I do agree that he certainly has a unique DNA structure, that doesn't mean that he magically got flung through space. I don't care what evidence a few mutated DNA strands can offer. As far as I can tell, he's just some spacer that got his hands on antiques." Her voice was filled with an air of uncaring. It gave the impression that she could care less and that she thought that Carmine's story was an obvious fallacy.

"Antiques that have never been built in the history of Humanity or any other race that's been met by the council?" Asked John, turning his head so that his gaze met Miranda's. He turned the rest of his body to face her as he paced slowly to her desk.

"Let's not forget he's the size of a Krogan and his weapons either pass through Kinetic barriers, or in the case of his Longshot, they shatter them entirely. Do you understand the implications of such weapons?" Inquired Shepard. He was in front of the desk again. He leaned on the desk, hand supporting him as he continued speaking.

"He gave the crew a little history lesson in the mess hall yesterday. According to him, his people have been at war for over a century, fighting on a global scale. Don't you see how, if his story is even remotely true, he could be an asset to the galaxy?" John stood up, bringing his hands behind his back once more. Miranda stared at him as silence filled the office. After several moments she sighed, turning to face the window that gave her a view of space. She stared at it, sorting through thoughts as she watched the stardust dance across the kinetic barriers of the Normandy.

"While I do see the benefits for an entire planet of people that have been fighting wars for thousands of years, I don't see how you are so easily accepting of his story. Yes, he has a mutated DNA structure that is easily linked to the DNA of Earth-borne humans. Yes, he's a remarkable specimen considering he's strong enough to bull rush a Krogan and win. His weapons are most definitely unique, but that doesn't mean I believe his story. It's simply to fanciful to be true Shepard." She closed her eyes as she finished speaking. All of this nonsense was starting to give her a headache.

"Regardless, he's a soldier and he needs help. If I can provide that while getting a valuable asset for our mission, then so be it." stated John. His tone brokered no arguments. He was dead set on helping Ben and in return he had high hopes for what Ben could do for them. Miranda opened her eyes, turning her head and looking into Shepard's eyes. She could tell straight away how serious he was about this. She sighed for the umpteenth time since this conversation had started. Standing up from her chair, she grabbed a data pad and handed it to John. He accepted the pad, a slight look of confusion donning his face. He began to read what was pulled up on the tac-pad. As he scrolled through the information, his face took on a sour look.

"What's this supposed to be?" Asked John, a slight tone of aggravation lacing his voice. He certainly wasn't happy. The tac-pad has several documents listed on it. He had glanced through the first few and wasn't impressed. They appeared to be guidelines and regulations for the non-Cerberus crew that they'd taken on. They listed everything from approved meal times to the access that they'd be allowed to have to on-ship systems and Cerberus files.

"I've taken the liberty to outline some regulations for all non-Cerberus personnel on the Normandy. I believe it'd help limit all information leaks and limit crew dramatics and quarrels." said Miranda. She looked bored and acted as if she was stating the obvious.

"I'm not going to accept this. I was given Command of this ship and it's crew to do with as I see fit. I was given a mission and I will complete it in the manner that I deem acceptable. That doesn't include telling my crew how they should live while they serve under me." growled Shepard. He understood the need for structure and regulations, but what Miranda wanted was too much. She had went as far as confining Jack to her makeshift quarters if it wasn't for food, bathroom use or a mission.

"I understand that you've got an unorthodox method Shepard, but I'm merely giving you options to improve the efficiency of this crew." Said Miranda. John knew the truth was far from what she had just stated. John felt his hands tighten into fists.

"I need to earn the loyalty of this crew. If I want them to go above and beyond, I can't be locking them in quarters and keeping them on a short leash when they haven't given me reason to." Miranda crossed her arms and frowned. What kind of game did Shepard think this was?

"So, tearing a ship apart from the inside wasn't enough of a reason to lock someone up? How about a vigilante who refuses to listen to law? Not enough for you? Okay then, how about the seven foot tall behemoth that can toss Krogan through walls and says he got shot through space and fires ballistic projectiles that could down a kodiak shuttle? As far as I'm concerned, they're all just a liability." stated Miranda. She had a frown on her face, snide and cruel looking. Regardless of what Shepard believed, it was her job to keep him in line.

"I'm doing this MY way Miranda, regardless of what you think is best. Earn my trust before you try to get me to hang my crew out to dry and maybe I'll decide to hear you out." With that said, Shepard turned about face and walked swiftly out of her office. The Illusive Man would need to know about this…

/?/

Crewman milled about the second deck. Some were making idle chit chat while some were hard at work running diagnostic scans to make sure that the ship was running at full capacity. Ben towered over these people as he made his way through the hallway behind the CIC. He quickly made his way to the door of the Normandy's lab. He noticed that the lock was...well, locked. Puzzled, he looked around for some sort of intercom. He quickly realized there wasn't one.

Shrugging, Ben brought his fist up to the bulkhead and proceeded to knock. The light rapping on the bulkhead yielded little results. Just as he was about to start frowning, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking over, then down, he met the gaze of Yeomen Kelly. She smiled politely and gestured for him to back away. He complied.

"Sorry, Professor Solus has a terrible habit of locking the door. Just let me.." Kelly proceeded to activate her Omni-tool and type briskly. After a few moments, the door's holographic display changed from red to green. "Ah, there you are!"

A slight red tint formed upon Ben's cheeks, his hand coming to the back of his head and scratching the imaginary itch there. "Thank you miss Chambers. I was honestly just going to start beating on the door."

Still smiling as she moved out of his way, Kelly brought her arms in as she held her data pad to her chest. "Any time Mr. Carmine. Besides, I don't think we need to be asking Engineering to remove dents from the bulkheads." she said, her tone taking on a hint of playfulness. Ben's face deepened to another shade of red as he looked down at the floor. Kelly, seeing this, giggled.

"I'm only teasing you Ben, no need to be so embarrassed. I'm merely commenting on your well built physical traits. Well, I must be on my way. Have a good afternoon Mr. Carmine." With a final smile Kelly turned and walked back towards the CIC. Ben sighed as he turned back towards the door. That was embarrassing…

Waving his hand in front of the control panel, the door slid open. As he walked inside Ben took note of the slight state of disarray that the whole lab seemed to be in. It was controlled chaos really. There must have been at least twelve machines going off, making sounds that definitely didn't feel like they were good. Standing in the back of the lab in front of a microscope was Mordin. Having heard the door open, he looked up from his work. He looked at Ben and a smile crossed his reptilian face.

"Ben! Hello, did not hear you knock. Busy, many experiments. What can I do for you?" He asked, his voice quick and precise. Ben had noticed that Mordin spoke very quickly, almost like he was always hyper, yet his tone never denoted such.

"Sorry to interrupt professor, but I was wondering if you could help me." said Ben as he leaned against a lab table. Mordin nodded, he hand coming up and grasping his chin as he seemed to dive deep into thought. He began mumbling as he paced back and forth.

"Hmmm, new weapons technology? No, not primary concern. Kinetic barriers? Perhaps, but still improbable. Leaves one option. You wish for me to find you a path home, yes?" asked Mordin, halting his pacing as he looked directly at Ben. Surprised that the professor had came to that conclusion so quickly. Ben nodded, confirming Mordin's theory.

"Yes, actually. This mission isn't going to last forever...I need to find a way home Mordin. My people still need me after this is all said and done." Ben stood up and walked closer to Mordin. "I know I can't ask for a miracle, but I really need to find a way home. Any help you could provide would be greatly appreciated. Please?" asked Ben. His face had adorned a mild look of pleading. Mordin seemed to ponder on the idea, before nodding firmly.

"We all deserve a home, for you, I shall try. Make no guarantee, but attempt I shall." As Mordin said this, a spark of hope began to burn in Ben's eyes. He smiled, a big grin fixed upon his face.

"Thank you Professor. Thank you."