"Thank you again for seeing us Doctor. I haven't really been feeling that great lately and when I read up on that recent flu that's been going around I was getting scared that-"

"Please, it was no problem at all. And your baby's in perfect health. Just keep along as you are. You're doing just fine."

"No Doc, you really did us a big one, meeting with us on such short notice. Rebekah here is as hypochondriac as a Quarian, so I'm glad you could put her worries here to rest."

"Hey!"

"If you ever need a favor Doc, just call my number here. My boys could get you a permit to expand this clinic of yours by the end of this standard week."

"Oh, that's very kind of you to offer, but that's much too generous. Your child's fine, and as parents, that's all that matters-"

"Oh, he's not actually mine. He's my brothers. Rebekah here is just my sister in law."

"Ah, my apologies, I-"

"Hey, no need to apologize! You helped US here Doc! In fact...do you think you can help with something else? Now, I've been reading up on these treatments that could prevent this very thing that Rebekah was scared of-"

"Michael, I already told you! I'm not getting them!"

"...ungh."

I could only begin to blink as bright lights slowly seeped into my vision. However, in doing so, I quickly realized that my eyes were quite dry. As were my lips. And that my nose was pretty stuffy too. And that even my bones were aching...and that I now regretted even waking up in the first place. I swear, consciousness was overrated. I could only let out a silent yawn in protest as I half-heartedly propped myself out of the bed next, trying to get my bearings, wondering where I was.

Wondering where I was?

A Mako-load of regret hit me as the events that had transpired just moments ago flooded my mind. Where I had just been prior to this room. What I had just been doing. Why I was- No. I quickly realized that all must have been hours ago. I was currently in a bed. Out of the streets. The alleyway. The Club in Manash.

I cautiously propped myself up again, attempting now to figure out where the hell I exactly was. And I realized...I realized I was in a very familiar place, as the stark white walls of the clinic and its red-haired owner came into view. They were a welcome sight, and one I had seen naught just a week ago. And the kind woman who owned these very walls now turned their attention toward me, apparently noticing that I had just woken from my stupor. She quickly excused herself from the bed across from me before beginning to sashay on over. The couple behind her however seemed ignorant of the fact that she had even left, continuing to bicker.

"Ah, Mister Shield, good afternoon. I hope that you slept well. How are you feeling?" In no time at all, I found Doctor Michel already leaning over the side of my bed, reading whatever was displayed on the data pad adjacent to it, simultaneously placing a tray of what looked like gruel that she had pulled from god knows where on a table next to my bedside.

"Not great," I ended up mumbling, growing faintly aware of the cheek swelling below my eye and the fleshy bruises lining my body. Everything was beginning to ache now in fact. Annoyingly so. "...why am I here? What happened?"

"Mon dieu! Do you not remember?" My blatant confusion and pathetic shake of the head gave her the answer she wanted. "I'll have to write that down. But ah, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. It's entirely understandable from the state I found you in." She walked over to grab a glass of water and small container from a nearby counter top, deciding to resume the story when she returned. "From what I recall, I had just left my clinic, and had begun to close for the night when I heard something come from around the corner. With my curiosity getting the better of me, I went to see what the source of such a unsettling sound was. And as I turned the corner of the street, imagine my surprise to find you of all things, half-conscious, bleeding on the ground right before me! You wouldn't believe the fright you gave me!"

"...uh, sorry," I pathetically managed to mouth in return.

It was unsettling to hear any of this since I had no recollection of it. I didn't remember coming here. Nor did I remember or even try to fathom how I'd even feasibly got to this section of the Ward. My body must have been on auto-pilot. There was no way to determine how I made it all the way back up here otherwise-

"I spent most of my night attempting to just keep you alive. You had lost a dangerous amount of blood from that terrible hole in your shoulder. Let alone the amount of trauma done to your body..."

I followed her gaze now, noticing the large bandage affixed to where I had been first slashed by that bottle on my forelimb. Following that trend, I came to realize my left shoulder also had a giant patch on it too. And hell, even my hands were wrapped up in gauze and bandages. I was about half-way to being buried inside a pyramid. I didn't realize things had really been that bad-

"...what in the world happened to you?"

I found myself gritting my teeth as she asked. Which I suppose is because I refused to relive an inkling of it. To even recall a shard of these memories. It was just another eent I was content to let join the others I had first lost when I woke up here. When I woke up in this god-forsaken universe. It was just another failed venture. Another pointless loss this place decided to thrust in my face-

I stopped my wallowing when I realized she was still waiting for an answer.

"You don't need to worry about it Doc...it's nothing to worry about now."

"...it didn't involve that young Quarian boy did it? You never told me what happened to you both after you left-"

I reflexively grimaced as her face looked on with concern. "I'm...sorry about that. I forgot." I avoided her eyes, turning toward the 'edible' porridge before me instead. Everything had happened so fast that first day. I had been overwhelmed by all the sights. The newfound lack of responsibility after I had been booted off that ship. "But I...you don't need to worry about him anymore. Someone...heh. Someone set him straight. He won't be getting into any more trouble...Not any time soon."

My sick words were taken at face value, and Doctor Michel just crossed her arms, letting out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I'm glad to hear that. And I'm glad of course to see that you're alright after last night's events too. I wasn't sure if I had already been too late to help. To be honest, I'm surprised to even see you awake so soon! You've made an incredible recovery."

"Huh," I let slip quietly, eyeing the bandaged body beneath me.

"Be sure to take these for the pain however," the doctor fretted next, motioning to the container she must have set down next to my bedside a split-second ago. "I'm surprised you can even sit up in your bed with the amount of stress your body's been through-"

"Look, I'm telling you, this is not what Jake would want!"

The couple's argument across from Doctor Michel and I was now quite a bit too loud to ignore. As much as the Doctor and I had been trying to for the past few minutes.

"Who are you to tell me what my husband would want?!"

"I'm the only person making sense right now! You're endangering your baby!"

"Yes, it's MY baby! And you have no authority to say what's good or bad for it!"

Determining that things had escalated long enough, the doctor gave an apologetic nod and now rushed away to try to settle the two's dispute. Though we were the only patients present in the small clinic, I don't think Doctor Michel was a particular fan of the shouting match regardless. I expected her to snap pretty soon just like she had at me and Zael just the other da-

I felt the porridge turn sour in my mouth, and I put down my spoon, deciding instead to just take the medicine the Doctor had left me. I drowned the putrid taste of the gruel with the water that had accompanied it.

"Please, there's no need to raise your voices-"

"I don't care what you think Michael! It's my decision!"

"I know you're hurting Rebekah, but don't let your grief hurt your baby too!"

"How dare you!"

"Perhaps you can talk some sense into her," 'Michael' asked Doctor Michel now that he realized she had returned, ignoring the fact that the doctor was intending to simply nix the argument, not join it.

"I don't need anyone to 'talk sense' in to me Michael! I'm not undergoing the treatments!"

As their voices escalated, I realized Michel's clinic really did seem to be a happenin' place. What she had to deal with on a regular basis...I mean, the hazards of healthcare in the 22nd century were apparently ridiculous. What with all the treating fugitive Quarians on the lam, enduring shakedowns from hired goons, dealing with blackmailers and thugs after dwindling supplies, not to mention voluntarily taking in any vagabond that stopped by for treatment-

What are you doing?

...

Why are you still here?

...

...how did things end up like this?

I couldn't bare it anymore. The failures. The helplessness. How weak I was-

"What kind of treatments are you talking about?" I decided to suddenly ask aloud, almost ecstatic, electing to thrust myself into the middle of the dispute.

"Well," Michael surprisingly deigned to reply to the random stranger that had addressed him. "My sister-in-law here is pregnant, and she's refused to let the baby undergo gene therapy in utero-"

"I know you mean well Michael, but in regards to a family matter like this, I'm afraid it would be best to keep this just between members of your family. Ultimately, the choice should be made by-"

"But this could be the difference between life and death for that child Doc! If I can't convince Rebekah, someone has to!"

"I don't need 'convincing'!"

"Is gene therapy unsafe?"

His attention returned to me with the question. Though the conversation had honestly been begging it since it started. I thought it had been a fairly common occurrence in the universe of Mass Effect. I mean, I had thought it the kind of thing people in the 22nd century got all the time. Whether in-utero or post-birth, with even military enlistees at age eighteen and up getting it upon joining the Alliance...I'm pretty sure that's what that guy with MarsGene says in the game anyway...why the mother is so adamantly against it is sort of boggling-

"My husband, Jacob, died from a rare heart condition several months ago." In lieu of Michael, the strawberry-haired woman in bed had answered instead, humoring me. Though the response had quickly rid whatever levity I had hoped to find in their predicament.

"There's a chance that the baby could develop the same heart condition, but routine gene therapy can eliminate it," the auburn-haired man beside her followed up, interrupting the woman.

"I know you both-"

The doctor tried to get a word in edgewise next before the woman loudly spoke up again. "A very small chance Michael! And extranet reports say the therapy could harm the child!"

This is all pointless.

"Please you two, I don't believe-"

"It's less dangerous than the genetic enhancements that every soldier in the Alliance receives!" Michael now yelled.

After this is over...what will you do?

"Exactly how dangerous we talkin'?" I asked before the woman, who I believed to be named Rebekah, could snap back at him even louder, in a feeble attempt to drown it out.

"One in three hundred at most," the man I believed to be named Michael asserted.

"Hmmm. Interesting."

"But extranet articles say there could still be long-term complications we don't know about!" She now turned to address the man beside her. "Don't you understand? If my baby is that one in three hundred, I'll always wonder if I...if I...killed my baby for nothing!"

That one kid died for nothing.

"Rebekah..."

"Please, you both need to calm yourselves. For the sake of your and the child's health. Please, take a deep breath and relax."

"I...alright," Rebekah whispered, finally acknowledging the Doctor and taking her advice. She wiped a small tear away as she did.

But I wasn't done with the conversation. I wasn't ready to be alone with my thoughts. This distraction was all I had left. "But...what are the odds that the baby might even get the same condition as his father?"

"Mister Shield, while I understand you want to help, this matter should stay just bet-"

"According to the doctors, there's a one in fifty chance," Rebekah decided to answer again almost cheery, any hint of her previous melancholy already gone. "And if my baby develops the heart condition, medical treatments are still available."

"Which are nowhere near effective as getting the gene therapy!"

"Mister Petrovsky! Please watch the tone of your voice! If you shout again, I will have to ask you to leave."

...Petrovsky?

"I'm sorry Doctor," the man seemed to respond in embarrassment, likely cowed by her reprimand.

Though I couldn't blame him. Doctor Michel's signature glare really did demand that response every time she gave it. It was just that intense. While it might not be as bad as...

You don't want to remember her either.

A-anyway, I still remembered the last time I had received one from the Doctor vividly. The last time I had seen it had in fact been when...I had been with...

I almost had to laugh. I was pathetic. Why was I so hung up on any of this?

"But this is a serious a matter," Michael followed, voice rising again as he continued his overture. "If I don't convince her-"

I now redoubled my focus on the conversation. Because the entire reason I had joined it in the first place was to avoid just that. To move on from it all. I never truly cared about any of it so there's no reason for me to even dwindle on it.

But what Doctor Michel had just said now...my attention was actually centered on the conversation for a tangible purpose. Because I could have just sworn-

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but what did you say your last name was?"

I was too gripped by the prospect not to.

"Oh, I never introduced myself did I," the man murmured as I derailed the beginnings of their next volley. "I'm Michael Petrovsky-"

And there it was again. I hadn't misheard. It was a galaxy full of names. Billions of them. Trillions probably. The odds of at least two people sharing the same surname while still being unrelated are practically absolute. Probably was something everyone experienced at least once even in the 21st century. Because, yes, coincidentally shared surnames were unavoidable. There was no reason to assume anything at all.

"-you might have recognized my name from the ads my firm puts out every now and then-"

But what did I have to lose from just simply asking.

"And my sister-in-law here is-"

"I can introduce myself Michael-"

"You wouldn't happen to be related to a General Oleg Petrovsky would you?"

The man turned his gaze back to me, brow raised. Though I figured as much. I didn't know why I had even asked.

"Oh, you know him?"

Because even if he had answered yes, I hadn't had anything in mind. What would I have even-

My gaze moved from the end of the bed back to him.

"What."

"Does the man you're thinking of have black hair, a stern gaze, and a need to constantly quote grand historical works or larger than life figures?"

"...ye-yeah. Yeah. Yeah that sounds like him."

There was no way.

"Hah, then that sounds you're talking about Uncle Oleg. Are you an officer under his command? I just happened to notice you have an Alliance crew uniform there."

I followed his gesture, looking to the other side of my bed now, where my only set of clothes lay neatly folded on a stool, clearly washed as they had no tell-tale signs of filth or blood they must have been caked in the last time I wore them. I guess I had the Doctor to thank for that too.

I owed her too much at this point.

"...I-yes. Yes I am." My heart was racing now, mind wild as I realized for the first time since I came here...that it had just given me another fresh slate. I hadn't planned for it. I couldn't possibly have. How did I even assume? But now that he had just affirmed it...out of the blue...this could be it. What I was waiting for. Why I had even been meandering around this hellhole. This was big. There was no other way to put it. Since I got here, I had never been lucky enough to come across an opportunity like this.

And what exactly was Eden Prime? Waking up just in time to see Shepard?

This was...

I blinked as I realized he was still waiting for me to continue. "Or he was," I declared, scrambling for words. "He used to, uh, command my unit. You...haven't heard from him recently have you? I haven't seen him in quite a while."

"Haha, actually, I just met with him for lunch not that long ago."

"Really?!"

"Yeah. I think he even mentioned he'd be on the Citadel for a couple days afterwards. Was meeting with some old colleagues of his or something...I could get you in touch with him if you want."

"...you...you would do that?"

"I don't see why not. I'm sure he'd love to reconnect with an old soldier of his. And it's the least I could do for those protecting Humanity." A cheesy smile accompanied the remark. "Give me your name and I'll let him know that you wanted to meet sometime-"

Dammit.

"Oh, actually, uh, could you not mention my name in your message? I...I was kind of hoping to surprise him." Though the General would be surprised regardless. It's not like I've ever actually met him before. Or have heard any name that the Cerberus officer would possibly know. "I haven't seen the general since...Torfan. And I was thinking of just showing up out of the blue. Thought he'd be a fan of the...serendipity."

"Huh, I wasn't aware that Oleg served at Torfan."

Dammit.

"Oh, I think it was just a small skirmish with pirates. Nothing I would say was anything newsworthy."

"Ah, I see," Micheal frowned.

I mimicked his action. What was I even doing. Because I sure as hell didn't know. I had no direction, hadn't had one since I had left the others. What even was the current goal of the person sitting in this bed-

"Well, if you want to go down that route...I think I can help you out."

"I under...huh?"

"How 'bout this. I'll ask him if we can meet again, and if he says he's not busy, you can pop by in my place. Would that work for you?"

"...that would be amazing."

"Ha great. I think he'll find it a hoot. He always did love surprises didn't he? I'll message him right now. Where would you like to meet? There's a well-known place that sells drinks nearby. Think it's called Flux...would that work for you?"

"Yeah. I'm familiar with it. Yeah, that'd be great."

"Great," the man said, now tapping on his omni-tool. "Heh. What are the odds that a random stranger in the bed across from us would know a family member?" he said aloud to no one in particular.

Rebekah Petrovsky now paused her sidebar with Doctor Michel to retort. "Well when you talk to every single person in the Citadel, it's bound to happen eventually."

"And I'll continue to do just that until someone I talk to can make you seen reason! The gene therapy could mean the difference between life and death for that child!" The man had a goal he was dead set on getting, I'd give him that. Tenacious would probably be the word for it.

"I don't care what you think!" Rebekah shot back, having none of it.

"For what it's worth, I think getting the treatment would be the right choice here-"

Why did you say that? Why do you even care?

"And who are you anyway!?" she immediately snapped at me. "It's my child! It's my decision."

Because you know you don't.

"Mister Shield," Doctor Michel began again, "I'm going to ask you to please-"

"Look Ms. Petrovsky. I know I'm a stranger; that I have no right to tell you how to live your life. It is your baby after all. It should be your decision on how to raise it, damn what anyone else says." Michael made a motion to object before I opened my mouth again, while Doctor Michel merely pinched her nose in turn, finally yielding to the fact that she had no chance in stifling the debate. "But you said it yourself. If that child of yours gets his father's disease...would you be able to say you were glad you chose not to get the treatment in the end? That'd you be fine if your child dies because of your indecision?"

And why would it matter. Dying of the disease would be no less different than the child dying due to the treatment. The worst outcome would be the same regardless.

"You- even if my child is born with it, there's still treatments available after-"

"Did those treatments help your husband at all?"

The room fell silent, the woman at a loss for words with how I had crossed the line. The others made to immediately object.

"Hey now-"

"I-"

She was on the verge of tears again.

"Mister Shield! That was extremely inappropriate! I'm going to ask that-"

"If that happened, you wouldn't blame yourself? That you wouldn't still ask yourself if you were the one responsible for killing your child because you didn't take action in the end? That you just sat by, paralyzed by indecision, hoping for better when you had the chance to actually fix things?!"

Oh I see.

"I...I had to watch Jacob die! I can't risk causing the death of my child as well!"

You're not even talking to her are you?

"So you'd leave it all up to fate instead? I..." I turned my eyes away from her, to my left hand instead, staring at the metal digits glinting through what parts weren't bandaged. "Someone once told me that you can't just hope for things to get better. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands. Sometimes...you have to take risks."

Sad. Look at you. The Old Man would be so thrilled that you took those words to heart wouldn't he? Or would he just lecture you on how regurgitating words instead of living by them is still just as pathetic?

"But...what if I make the wrong choice?" she almost whispered now, voice wavering. "What...what if that risk ends up killing a child who would have never developed the condition?" Her voice was faltering. "...what then?"

"...then you'll know you did all you could to keep your baby safe. That's all you can do."

Do...you truly even believe that?

"Don't you understand? I can't lose this baby!" She made no attempt to wipe away the drops gliding down her cheeks as her heart made one last defense. "This...this is all I have left of him."

"And you and that baby are all I have left of Jacob!" I didn't need to answer this time. Michael promptly replied now, on the verge of tears himself. His sudden voice caused her to look up from her bed in shock. "I can't lose you, either of you. Not after this," the man replied, now facing her for the first time.

"Then...why didn't you say that instead of yelling at me?"

Her strangely gentle voice in contrast with before was enough to coax out the truth from him. "...I...I was scared. I'm sorry. I just...I just wanted Jacob's child to be safe. I want to give him that much."

The two continued to stare at one another for a while, apparently understanding what the other was feeling for the first time since the argument arose. How long had it been hindering their relationship? How long had this issue cause them to fight? Days? Weeks? Months even? What did it say about them that the entire affair had seemed to be resolved in but a moment by a passing stranger? And that it stemmed from just a simple lack of communication?

...from a lack of truth?

Doctor Michel stood silent still beside the bed, obviously appalled by the sudden turn of events. Turning from me to them, and back again, perhaps completely at a loss as to how things had turned out the way they did.

"If it means that much to you Michael...if you trust that it's...the right thing...I'll do the therapy."

"You...you will?"

"I will. I promise."

"Rebekah..."

Why did my words resonate with her at all?

The mother wiped away another tear before turning her gaze toward me. "Thank you so much. I...I guess we just needed a person on the outside to talk some sense into both of us."

"Hey...I'm sorry. I was out of line. I just thought-"

...why? Why on Earth would you care about this? They have three years tops until they all die anyway. Treatment or no. Hell, they could die this year when the Geth-

"...Mister Shield?" I came back to as the doctor called my name. "Are you feeling alright? You don't look well."

"I'm sorry," I whispered again.

The woman shook her head, smiling gently. "No. I think those words were exactly what I needed-"

...I'm sorry.

"-thank you."

Hours Later.

I think I've hammered it in enough on how pathetic things were.

In retrospect, if I really just stopped and took a look at the consequences of all my actions thus far, I think it'd be safe to say that my adventure has really been just one long, overdrawn, misleading, monotonous, mundane, aggravating shaggy dog story. Which I realize now is all redundant but sue me.

I never knew what I was doing. I knew that from the start. And even after all my mistakes...I surely didn't now.

Despite my omnitool citing it was the middle of the day, the club around me still thrummed with activity; waitresses navigated crowded tables with impossibly wide trays, payouts of quasar machines buzzed loudly from the mezzanine above, and the general clamor of the crowd around me reached such ludicrous heights that it almost drowned out the tones of Flux's thumping bass. Yet here I sat in spite of it all. Silent. Alone. A blatant contrast to the atmosphere around me. It really was quite pitiful to be frank. But from my small nook in the furthest corner of the room, I was already ignoring everything mentioned thus far, as my focus had become entirely fixated on the man who had just walked in some time ago.

And there he currently sat, at a table for two near one of Flux's window panes, seemingly nonplussed by the raucous atmosphere around him. He had checked his omni-tool thrice since he had been seated, ignored a white, drunken Turian with black markings ask him for credits, and declined the service of a flirty Asari waiter that had all approached him in the time since. But between each of those actions, I could see that his attention was simply gripped by the view outside the club's large paneled window to his right, apparently engrossed with the bustling air traffic of the Citadel outside.

I didn't know what I was doing.

Michael had told me it was on shortly before they left. I had rested a while longer before leaving the clinic quickly after...against Doctor Michel's wishes. I hadn't been kind to her when I did. But I had shed the medical gown for my pressed clothes, picked up the firearm from the locker she had let slip about, ripped away most of the bandages hampering me against her and my own better judgement, and set off for Flux, damning my aching body for hindering even that simple task. And here I had sat for the past several hours since then, mind blank.

What are you even doing here?

How did this happen? What was I planning to do?

Can you not realize how idiotic this is?

The man responsible for leading the occupation of Omega. The disenfranchised general who had turned away from the Alliance, and instead, toward the extremists known as Cerberus. A man that I forgotten even existed up until his name was uttered earlier this day. And why had it been?

Stop before you make a mistake dickweed.

Chance? Fate? Was there a reason at all?

Don't do it.

My table was already behind me.

It's not too late.

But I suppose it didn't matter. I knew why I was here.

Head for the exit.

The sounds of my footsteps were the only thing I heard now as I approached him.

You have no idea what you're doing.

It was because I didn't have anything else. For seemingly no reason at all, it constantly punished me. Whether I had a plan I wanted to follow, or simply none at all. Nothing went right. It refused to leave me alone. Like my very existence was a blight it needed to cure. A cancer it needed to excise. I could say without a doubt that this universe was indeed a cruel one.

You fool.

I was above him now, hovering over his shoulder, already absentmindedly uttering the words.

"General Petrovsky?"

He slowly looked up in turn, grey eyes rife with curiosity as to who could possibly be asking for him now. But I soon found myself mimicking his face as the subtle expression on it turned to blatant shock, his mouth quietly uttering the name.

"...Alexei?"

Codex Entry:

Spacehouse Rock with Spacer Sam, Episode 457: The Interstellar Criminal Organization Corner Special 39. Name of the Week: The Tenth Street Reds.

Hey kids! Spacer Sam here! Today I want to teach you all a little something about organized crime! Now as I hope we all know, organized crime is a category of transstellar, stellar, or local groupings of highly centralized enterprises run by criminals who intend to engage in illegal activity, most commonly for money and/or profit. Some criminal organizations, such as terrorist groups, are politically motivated. Sometimes criminal organizations force people to do business with them, such as when a gang extorts money from shopkeepers for, what in they refer to as, "protection". Gangs may even become disciplined enough to be considered organized. A criminal organization or gang can also be referred to as a mafia, mob, or crime syndicate. Together, the network, subculture and community of criminals as a whole may be referred to as the underworld. And in today's special, we'll be discussing about the organized human crime syndicate named the 10th Street Reds. First founded by its leader, Alexandar Razin, in the year 2152 CE, the gang took to humble beginnings in the city streets of Volgograd of the Russian Federation on Earth, the birthplace of Humanity. Since then, it has jumped to the forefront of interstellar crime by being a staunch pro-human organization and being one of the first groups to take to the colonial space lanes, with branches now spanning from the Local Cluster to the Serpent Nebula.

Beginnings as a Street Gang: 2152–2165 CE

From 2152 to the internal power struggle that erupted in 2160, the 10SR first solidified its role as a gang in Volgograd through crimes such as theft, racketeering, arson, murder, and other Organized Crime Act charges.

In 2157, Razin was taken to prison after a short release for parole violations stemming from the receipt of stolen goods. However, Razin continued to guide 10SR members, who now numbered about 1,235 (both incarcerated and free). In 2160, with the rapid growth of the 10th Street Reds due having taken to purchasing privately owned orphanages and welcoming new branches from overseas, an internal power struggle erupted and violence within the Reds ensued. Between June 2159 and February 2160, fifty six 10th Street Reds were murdered. Following the pan-continental outbreaks of internal gang violence, Alexander Razin and 19 others were charged with murder and racketeering; the indictments ended in 2161 with 39 tenth street reds indicted by the Systems Alliance under advisement by the Russian Federation.

The details of the charges against Razin were later revealed in 2165. Razin was charged with specifically ordering the killing of Broderick (The Comissar) Weisman. Weisman was taken to an abandoned apartment where he was strangled, decapitated, mutilated and had his corpse set on fire. Talk about gross violation of human conduct! Although Razin was in prison, the Alliance and Russian government later alleged he had ordered a TOS ("Terminate On Sight") to all 10th Street Reds for the murder of Weisman. This message sent, along with many others, were how Razin was initially linked to three murders on the streets of Montreal as well; testimony from former Reds was used as further evidence of the orders. The datapads had been copied and stored by the UNAS Department of Corrections, who were not aware of the significance of the messages until an Alliance task force was formed that linked homicide investigators from the Russian Federation Criminal Justice Department, UNAS Federal Intelligence, and DOC crime division.

Reformation: 2166–2173 CE

In 2170, following the trial of Alexandar Razin, Antonio Calum, who was recently elected as the Secretary General of PanAsia, kneeled with other Reds in front of a Federal District Court in Moscow, quoted as stating, "It's time for a fresh start...now they can't hold our past against us. 2170 will be the beginning of the 10SR's transformation from a street gang to a 'street organization'."

10th Street Reds began appearing en masse at political demonstrations in support of the Pro-Human community. To further its transformation and efforts to legitimize, the organization began to hold its monthly meetings (universals) at Systems Alliance embassies around Earth. At this time, the membership of the 10th Street Reds is believed to have swelled to 2,560 incarcerated and 6,350 free. The monthly universals drew attendance of 800-900 regularly. Internal changes to the organization began to take place as Calum amended the 10SR manifesto to include parliamentary elections and new procedures for handling inter-organizational grievances and removing death as a possible punishment, replacing it with "vanishing", the act of being banished from the movement. During this period, Calum was indicted with domestic abuse and drug possession charges.

The pending charges against Calum were dropped in early 2171. Following the release of Calum, a joint operation of the UNAS Federal Intelligence, Volgograd City Police Department (VCPD), Systems Alliance Immigration and Naturalization Service, and the Systems Alliance Trans-continental Earth Justice Division came to a close with the arrests of 92 suspected high-ranking 10SR members. The 10th street reds' leadership insisted over half of those arrested are not members in spite of this. The operation, dubbed Operation Berlin Wall, cost the city over five million credits and took 19 months to complete. Calum was eventually permitted in 2173, though on house arrest, to attend monthly universal meetings. It was during this time that the 10SR truly underwent a shake up in leadership, dismissing many of its leaders in order to bring in more pro-human politically focused members.

Currently: 2174-2183 CE

The 10SR after this period of reformation begin to gain legitimacy and its movement spread to other colonies in Alliance Space. First, Erma Vandergut, who was a member of the Terra Firma Party, appointed the Terra Nova 10SR to protect her during a demonstration in front of the colony's Alliance Embassy. Following the Alliance Systems demonstration, Rafael Pans, a member of the Arcturus Senate, attended a monthly universal. Before years' end, Raymond Ashe, an Alliance officer, attended a monthly universal and was given 10SR honors by the present leadership. Ashe was praised during the meeting and stated "These guys are hope for Humanity's struggle. I can die in peace, knowing that the disenfranchised youth of Humanity is willing to take up arms." However, the 10th street reds are still far from a legitimate organization, still participating in a large number of racketeering and smuggling operations, as well as acts of terrorism and racism throughout Council space. If you see one, be sure to hop to the other side of the space lane!

Welp, that's all the time we have for today kids! In the next episode: What exactly is a 'shifty space cow'? And why are they such a concern?

Tune in next time on Spacehouse Rock with Spacer Sam!

Author's Notes:

What started as a short, fun backstory somehow became a full-fledged parody that almost quadrupled the length of this chapter. What the hell. ANYWAYS, hope you bums enjoy the new chapter. Though it seems kinda hard to. Our favorite SI is as whiny as always, still beating himself up over that one kid whose name I already forgot. But...could there be change for Shield on the horizon now that Petrovsky seems to mistake him for this mysterious 'Alexei' as well!? Hurr durr who knows. I sure don't. I only write this stuff. ON TO MY FAVORITE PART...REVIEWS!

Reviews:

Death Lord: I'm glad to see that I'm not dead either man. Glad to see I'm not dead either. Weeeell...it's 50/50.

Ton of Deku: You mad over dat?! Oh you're not gonna like the next few chapters then lol

(SPOILERS FOR ME:Andromeda)

NY Guy born in 88: Maaaan, who hasn't heard of Mass Effect Andromeda. As controversial as ME3 is...we all know we gonna get it. You can biotic charge with a jet pack man. JET PACK CHARGING MAN. And...the protagonist's name is Ryder for gods sake. The possibilities are endless. I already have my first two runs planned. Dick Ryder (teehee), and Jay Ryder, who I plan to romance PeeBee with. So halfway thru I can start calling them PeeBee and...Jay LOLOLOLOL

(END SPOILERS)

cV Da: And dam sun. You think that if someone's life sucks, they should just kill themselves? That's rough bud. Though arbitrarily contriving pain for a character is a valid qualm...I will have to fight you on 'made-up' levels of racism. In actual canon, the 10th Street Reds are actually super-racist. Hell in ME1, there's even a mission for Earthborn Shepard where they find out their former gang is now violently anti-alien, with one being arrested for poisoning medicine that could have killed millions of Turians. MILLIONS. And with how Turians view their own biotics with suspicion, Salarians hating their Lystheni offshoots, Asari despising their own Pureblood sisters...racism is rampant in Mass Effect, even among own races. It's like a huge theme or something. Like 10 instances of it per game. At least. In my opinion, if there's no racism, it's just not Mass Effect...I mean, remember that one Volus in ME2 who lost his credit chit? RACIST. But sorry to see you go man. Hope you give the story another try one day. Maybe when it's finished in 2023 :(

Fonz: Uh, I'm pretty sure if you read the last chapter, you'd know Shield is already going to be paired with Zael. Nevermind that he's already dead or underage. The heart wants what the heart wants.

Guest: And I used to be right there with you bud. Once came across a SarenxGarrus erotic snuff fic. Makes me shudder to this day. And wasn't actually half bad.

Lagging Ace: Shepard has the colonist background, so is unfortunately not a member of the Reds. Though she is kinda racist. Mostly to Batarians though. Think they did shenanigans with her home on Mindoir or something. She doesn't like to talk about it.

Toothless: ...is it time for a new chapter? c:

In the Next Chapter: Who let Hades' Dogs out? Who, who, who, who-

Tune in next time on Mass Effective: A Hero Made!