Written 03/07/11.

Disclaimer: I have no claim on Mass Effect, though it has ravaged my mind, body and spirit.

Courage may be taught as a child is taught to speak.

-Euripides

The Clinic

I wish that upon meeting Dr. Solus for the first time that I had been more eloquent, responsive even. But after the danger of my krogan mugger had passed, with the krogan earning two messy new holes in his head, I seemed to lose the ability to articulate past a grunt or squeak. Which is a shame, because I always had dreamt that if I ever met Dr. Solus, I would impress him with my own quick wit. And it was indeed the great Dr. Solus who had saved me. He looked a little younger than he did in the game, and he was not wearing his outfit either. Besides his holstered gun it looked like he was wearing Salarian casual wear. It was a form fitting burgundy outfit, with a short jacket in a slightly darker shade.

I was staring at him. He was staring back, waiting for an answer. I think he was trying to smile at me, comfortingly, but I was too far gone to care or realize it. "What year is it?" I blurted out without thinking. I winced and took a sharp breath, looking closely at Mordin's reaction. It was all in all not the best way to avoid drawing attention to the fact that I was very out of place in that world, in that galaxy.

Mordin frowned a little and told me, "Omega lacking in calendar, usually go by galactic standard. Galactic year is usually of little relevance," he hummed to himself for a second thinking. "Ahh, human, would want date in relation to home planet Earth!" He smiles again and raises his wrist and activates his omni-tool. I do not remember if he noticed me gasp, I certainly did not have the presence of mind to conceal my surprise.

Seeing an omni-tool for the first time was wondrous and frightening. It was the first real holographic technology I had ever seen. Pictures and simulations in movies just did not compare to seeing the light form a solid display and interface. Seeing the soft glow of the omni-tool, and it's actively moving display suddenly grounded me. It was so unexpectedly real, that my mind was finally able to comprehend what had happened, where I was. I was on Omega, a fictional place in a fictional galaxy that was populated by fictional species and characters.

One of these fictional characters was Mordin Solus, a Salarian, who delivered unto me an unexpected revelation. "The date by Earth standard is the tenth of March, 2180," he paused for a second, "C.E." he added helpfully.

Seeing my first sample of futuristic technology had grounded me, but the date Mordin gave me set my mind off in another spiral. 2180? That was three years before the first game and five before the second. I was barely familiar with anything from the first game, just what was referenced after. I had always imagined what it would be like to join Shepard's crew and save the galaxy, but I was not even in the right time. Only I could screw up slipping through the fabric of space and time like this.

It seemed like a thousand thoughts swirled through my head all at once. How did this happen, and why? Was I here for a reason, or by accident? I had been satisfied with the decisions of a paragon Shepard. I had never felt the need to change that story, I had never felt I could have done better than her. So why? What possible reason was I here? If it was just random, what should I do? Should I try to help Shepard, or would I ruin her path? Assuming Shepard was a she in this universe, or a paragon for that matter. Should I try to blend in? Should I tell the truth?

Dr. Solus observed me closely as I became overwhelmed by my thoughts once again. He held a fist to his chin and tucked his other arm across his chest, thinking for a moment. It was rare Mordin ever needed more than a moment to think. He reached a decision and gently placed a three fingered hand on my back. "Come with me. I will help you," he told me, though the words did not penetrate the haze of my thoughts. I followed him docilely, he guided me with words and light touches, but I barely acknowledged him. My mind was racing, forming theories, examining them, rejecting most keeping others. He guided me carefully around the twitching krogan, that was slowly beginning to heal on the ground. Its eyes stared fixedly at the spot where I had been standing, the krogan was unconscious for all that his eyes were open.

Should I just try to blend into the galaxy and feign ignorance of what is to come? No, I could not do that. I was not a warrior or genius, I probably would not be very helpful to Shepard. I had fired a gun before, an hour at a shooting range on a very bad date, but that was not quite combat experience. But I had five years to prepare, I could join the army and try to get myself assigned to the Normandy. No, there was no record of me in this universe, I would never get through screening. No record of my existence, unless there had been a me in this universe, nearly 200 years ago. That would not be helpful either. I would need conceal my identity. Should I try to warn people what was coming? Would anyone listen? Judging by the response to Shepard's warnings, it seemed unlikely. But I still needed to help, just because Shepard succeeds in a video game, did not mean she would in this universe.

Mordin guided me through the familiar yet unfamiliar world. If I had not been busy trying to process, I would have been staring at everything. I passed batarians and turians in the streets, humans, asari and every other sentient species. And not just the examples that had been present in the games, but females of every kind, children and no one was limited to the game archetype for their species. The variety was stunning, or it would have been if I had not already been stunned. Before I could realize what I was not paying attention to, Mordin ushered me through a door (it made a whooshing sound and everything,) and into his clinic.

"Dr. Solus! You promised you'd take the day off," an exasperated quarian reprimanded Mordin as he led me in. She was a few inches taller than my own 5'4, her suit was mostly dark blue in colour. The cloth of her suit was a field of white stars on dark blue, the metal of the suit was grey blue. If I had bothered to look I would have had to examine my previous belief that quarians beside Tali'Zorah and Kal'Reegar all seemed to blend together. I had to let go of a lot of assumptions that were created by the limitations of a video game as a form of media.

"Not professional, personal. Will be in patient room three, please do not disturb," Mordin told the quarian as he led me through the back. Compared to the relative chaos of the clinic during the plague, the clinic Mordin led me through was quite clean and professional looking. There were quite a few people in the waiting area as we passed through, but none looked to be in dire straits. If I had been paying attention I would have felt guilty for monopolizing Dr. Solus.

He led me down a hall and into a small room. It was very much the standard doctor's office, but it had posters and models of drell, asari and batarian anatomy in addition to human ones. It was a room for seeing humanoid patients. Mordin had me sit down on an examination bed, and then turned to the cupboards on the other wall. The room was small enough that it was two small steps between the medical bed and the cupboards. He withdrew a small metal device, a medical scanner I guessed after he pointed it at me and it bathed me in a beam of orange light. He had caught my attention again, rending me from my internal dilemma.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, then bit my lip. Was my ignorance of the future showing?

"Standard medical scan, non invasive. Hm, interesting. Lack standard immunizations, lack basic genetic modifications, basic medical problems, hormonal imbalances, unusual." His fingers tapped against the interface on the device, his rapidly changing alien expression was impossible to follow. "Teeth show signs of primitive correction. Minor scarring above right eye should have been easily avoidable unless destitute," he quickly looked up at me then back to his device, "No, no signs of malnutrition and manner of dress does not suggest poverty. Yet clearly not modern human fashions," he hummed again to himself, "Ah!" He scanned me again, tapping rapidly against the scanner's screen. Then he frowned, "No sign of muscle or tissue damage, no degeneration from excessive exposure to subzero temperatures, no sign of recovery either. That leaves one improbable answer," he turned and put down the scanner on a counter not looking at me, "What is your name?" he asked.

For a moment I was startled to finally be addressed. Listening to him think had been distracting, he had always been one of my favourite characters. For a moment after I realized what he had asked, I rapidly debated with myself what to tell him, "Um..." My eyes rapidly darted around the room trying to think, to tell the truth or to lie? Would my identity be dangerous? "My name," I paused and took a breath, centering myself, "My name is Kelly," surely a first name would not matter. His back to me, his head snapped up from between his shoulders, he had been leaning forward, slumped into the counter.

"Kelly? Common human name, not a useful indication..." he trailed off for a moment, "No, if the possible is eliminated, what remains is the truth, no matter the improbability," he turned to look at me, he braced himself against the counter, an uncharacteristic pose for him I thought.

"You asked me what year it was. What year did you expect it to be?" Mordin asked me casually, as if time travel was as much a doctor's daily business as a cold. His expression was mild, not betraying anything. He even had a small smile for me, to try and put me at my ease.

"I-uh..." I stammered for a second, "What-, what are you talking about?" I managed to retaliate. I sweated under my heavy winter clothes, from more than just the heat now. Twenty minutes in Omega and I had already been discovered. This was not what I had imagined at all.

"Obvious displacement is obvious," he scoffed deadpan, "Lack any signs of modern medical intervention and dressed in nearly historic human clothing, similar to that depicted in media from 21st century North America. Argued with krogan for possessions. Have shown no familiarity with modern technology, even a simple omni-tool surprised you," so he did notice that. "No characteristics of a renaissance cult. No signs of cryogenics," his statements started to be more forceful as he reached his conclusion. "Not only walked into a Vorcha, but apologized. Twice. Were stunned and stopped to stare at non-humans who did nothing remarkable. Behaviour only rational if experiencing intense disbelief. Constant behaviour indicative of sudden displacement from expected surroundings. Sudden and unexpected." He finished and took a breath, his large dark eyes bore into mine, waiting for a response.

I looked down. I closed my eyes, took a breath and gathered my wits and courage. I braced myself sitting on the edge of the medical bed, holding onto its edge. I will admit I wavered uncertainly for a moment, unsure, but I found my resolve. I was no simpering child, I would not panic or shy away from this. I looked back up at Mordin's dark alien eyes. "I think it would be very bad if I told you the details Dr. Solus," I swallowed, and clenched my jaw, gathering myself. "Your conclusion is correct. I'm not from here, this time or place."

"Do you know how or why? Why would revealing details be 'very bad'?" he asked eagerly. He leaned forward from the counter, his excitement obvious.

"I don't know how, or why, but it's not time travel. I'm sure that it's not time travel. I think I'm from an alternate dimension, do you know the infinite dimension theory?" I was calming, my hands began to unclench, my knuckles popping. I had not realized I had such a hold on the bed.

"Yes, very familiar. Often discredited for lack of evidence. Often compared to religion in scientific viability. Suggest that you originate from an alternate universe. Firmly rejects time travel. Body language now suggests familiarity," sudden understanding dawned on his face, "Rejection of time travel comes from knowledge about this universe! Multi-dimensional theory suggests that in infinite dimensions other fiction is reality. Familiarity suggests that this universe is familiar, unwillingness to discuss origins suggests knowledge of universe, of events yet to come!"

Mordin seemed pleased with his hypothesis. He smiled widely and offered, "Reluctance to discuss origins is unwarranted," he told me kindly, "simply avoid topic of dangerous knowledge."

He was right, but... "You promise not to tell anyone? If people knew or guessed..."

"Shocking suggestion Kelly, doctor patient confidentiality sacred, would never violate. Even so, no one would believe me."

He was right with a minor flaw, "But I'm not your patient," I pointed out obstinately.

He blinked, "True. Will rectify." He turned around again and rummaged through his cupboards and took out three vials and a device that looked an awful lot like a futuristic syringe.

He saw my noticeable change of expression, I was nearly phobic of needles. "Do not worry, theoretically technology has improved considerably. Will not hurt," he told me, pressing buttons on the syringe's advanced interface.

I learned that day that Dr. Solus is not only a brilliant doctor but a lying son of a female Varren. He loaded each of the vials into the syringe, "Please remove your coat. Need to inject at external carotid artery," I blinked at him and raised a brow questioningly, "Ahem. Side of neck. Left side."

I was quickly growing warm anyway, so I removed my heavy leather coat and my black hoodie underneath, revealing my, oh so sophisticated, black t-shirt and blue jean ensemble. At least the t-shirt had a flattering neckline. When I sat back on the medical bed, (or are they called tables?) Mordin stepped forward and smiled reassuringly, "Will correct minor chemical imbalances and repair damaged tissue and genes. Standard package for humans. Also includes important immunizers. Third vial beginning of standard gene modification, most humans would receive at birth."

He continued as he stabbed me with the syringe. He pressed a button and it depressed with a release of air. He was unperturbed by my indignant yelp of pain and protest. "Will eliminate most known genetic disease. Will strengthen immune system, natural healing. Unlikely to encourage further growth, already an adult, but possible. With secondary treatment, will increase strength and endurance. Other effects technical, unlikely to understand, not important." He put the syringe away and grabbed another device from a shelf. Did he always have all these devices on hand or was I just lucky?

"Lie back please, remove corrective lenses and keep eyes open," he instructed. With some trepidation I did as he instructed, rubbing at my neck. Another bruise already. Not a good indication of things to come from Omega. Mordin briefly revealed the device to me, another handheld device with digital interface, but this one tipped with a long, sharp point. Then, taking advantage of my widened eyes, he, quick as a flash, stabbed me in one eye and then the next. It was a shallow pricking, but surprisingly painless, just a quick electric shock followed by a cool tingling sensation. It did cause me tear up, but as I blinked rapidly and reached up to my eyes, Mordin gently caught my wrist. "Please do not stimulate eyes beyond blinking, will cause irritation." And then the sneak stabbed me in the throat again with the syringe!

"What the hell?" I asked angrily and pushed him away.

"Necessary. Injection will work with surgery to correct vision. Deception used to avoid protest," he explained calmly. "Now," he cleared his throat, "now have doctor patient relationship. Assured of confidentiality."

He certainly had made his point, not without making me suffer for it though, but not without purpose. "Yeah, I feel really reassured," I grumbled then sighed, "Thank you." I blinked again, sitting up fully, and looked at him, he was blurrier than he usually would have been without my glasses on. "What did you do to my eyes?"

"Minor corrective surgery. Decrease in clarity will resolve in a few hours, depending on natural healing ability and severity of lens curvature. Will increase clarity of vision to higher than average." I raised my brow at him in question, he seemed to understand my expression, "Professional pride in work. Enjoy providing best treatment available with easiest access."

He smiled and sat down on the small stool next to the bed, he looked up at me and asked, "Now will you tell me?" I could almost feel his curiosity choking him.

For a moment I hesitated, but he was right. As long as I did not reveal what I knew about this universe and he believed me, there was no harm. I really could not screw things up too badly, could I? "Okay. My name is Kelly, but I can't tell you my last name because there might have been an alternate me in this universe 200 years ago," I told Mordin, searching his face. He nodded and leaned forward, hands his knees, the picture of an apt pupil. I smiled at the image of him as a student, he probably had same eagerness then. "I was born on February 19, 1990," I hesitate and add, "On Earth. But that's kinda obvious, huh?"

"No idea. Humans in your universe could have had begun space travel earlier. However, not the case?" he asked.

"No. Humans in my universe have a very similar history to those in this one. I don't know what our eventual future is in space. When I woke up this morning the year was 2011. I just know that this place, Omega?" I stated as a question looking at Mordin, he nodded, "Omega is fiction in my universe and so are salarians, krogan, asari and nearly everything else in this dimension," I confessed passionately, waiting for the doctor's reaction. Mordin looked unexpectedly pleased.

"Amazing. Support for multi-dimensional theorem is unprecedented. Should write a paper," he closed his eyes and frowned, cocked his head to the side, "No. Little evidence," he looked back at me and smiled, "Also violates doctor patient confidentiality," he teased.

"Is interdimensional travel common in your universe?" Mordin asked.

"No, but there is a lot of fiction about the concept. The theory always made sense to me. But I don't know how I got here," I gestured at the room with both my arms, "Because of the concept of infinity I believe that anything is possible, but most things are very unlikely. It's just possible I'm here because... I don't know, our dimensions brushed against each other and I was just in the right place at the right time," I suggested half heartedly. I did not really believe myself, the chances of spontaneous dimensional travel would have already been nearly non-existent. And to on top of that, end up in this dimension, of all possible ones. Even just spontaneously ending up in a random unknown dimension was about as close to impossible as most things went.

"Fascinating. How much do you know about this universe?" He raised a hand to forestall my protests, "Factual information. Common knowledge. Will not ask for dangerous information. Need to know familiarity. Knowledge is power. On Omega power means survival."

I hesitated for a moment, looking away and biting my lip, but then I looked back at him, or the blurry shape that resembled him and said, "This universe is a story in my universe, a game. I'm sure not everything I know is accurate but I know a bit about each sentient species, different places in the galaxy, its history. I'm most familiar with the Terminus system, but I know a little about most important places. I know quite a bit of trivial trivia," I said with a weak smile, "I don't know a lot of the basics of functioning in this world though," I admitted. I wondered how toilets work on Omega.

"All knowledge is precious. Important. Better that you have some than none," he told me comfortingly. I smiled more strongly at him, he smiled back and continued, "Tell me more about you Kelly," he implored.

"Okay, I'm from Ottawa, Ontario, the capitol of Canada," he nodded, "I'm a university student, third year Criminology Studies. I was planning to apply to law school next year. I want to be a prosecutor and eventually a judge..." I trailed off, "Well that was the plan at least," I sighed and continued, "My Dad's military so I've lived in a lot of different places, on Earth that is. My Mom's a nurse and my little brother is two years younger than me," I smiled again, "The little monkey didn't bother with university, he was recruited for the Olympics right from High School, he runs like a gazelle."

I blinked in realization, "There's probably record of him, if he ever made it to the Olympics. I can't use my last name, it's not a common one, if anyone looked they'd be able to find me, the one from this universe, easily."

"Possible but not certain. May not be another you in this universe. Not time travel. May have never existed. But," he breathed, "Caution is warranted."

He looked at me, examining me, "Aware Omega is dangerous?" he asked me, tone serious.

"Yes, several parts of the story took place on Omega," I bit my tongue and pressed my lips together tightly, not wanting to give away anything else.

"Too dangerous for student, even criminology student," he said gently, "Have family on Citadel. Sister. Can take you to her tomorrow. Will need to make arrangement for temporary absence. Months since last contacted sister, but should be willing to help in adjustment-"

"No." I said, interrupting him. It took me a second to understand what he was planning. When I did understand I knew it was not an option. He wanted to take me somewhere safe, the Citadel, put me out of harm's way. It was very kind of him, he had no reason to stick his neck out for me like that. I was nothing to him but an exciting scientific discovery that he could do nothing about. He wanted to protect me, save me, help me. He did not think I could handle Omega.

But if I could, if I could survive Omega, I could survive anything.

"No," I repeated to Mordin as he regarded me, questioningly, "I'm staying on Omega."