DISCLAIMER: I do not own Mass Effect.

REVIEW RESPONSES:

SIreader: Thanks for the review. Sorry, but I don't really know how you could improve your fic, apart from the fact that you don't need to always spout off the entire name of a firearm every single time, nor do you need to rattle off the design specs at all. At most, you should say the whole name once and then shorten it to something quicker. A bunch of streams of letters and numbers can get annoying in a story. Anyway, for the shortening, and example would be shortening "Sig GSR 1911 TTT" down to "Sig GSR", or simply "Sig".

JustAFerret: Why thank you, Ferret.

Chris7221: Answer to 1st review: Thank you, and this is not a parody. Answer to 2nd review: I figure, if I (or the story version of me) is screwed anyway, might as well insult them as creatively and as often as possible; just because I'm trapped doesn't mean I can't be a huge pain in the ass. Answer to 3rd review: Thank you, and there's one more addition in this chapter and story!me will be good to go.

A/N: Hey there, readers! Here's chapter 4 for your reading enjoyment!

CHAPTER 4

I sat on the bench in the shuttle. I was free. Free of those fucking Cerberus lunatics. Free to do . . . well, whatever I want really. The amount of credits on Captain Bastard's credit chit is enough that I could probably buy my own ship if I wanted to. He must have been really well paid. Either that, or Cerberus had me captive for a pretty long while. Maybe both. I clenched my gauntleted hands, which were speckled with Captain Bastard's blood from when I searched his body for valuable crap I could steal. Maybe I'll go back to that facility and destroy it like Jack did in ME2 with the Teltin facility.

Speaking of which, where the hell am I anyway? I should probably find that out. Maybe I'll ask the asari, I'm sure there's a navigation computer or something in the cockpit.

I got up from my seat and went to the entrance to the cockpit. Weirdly enough, it looks a bit like Joker's station in the Normandy's cockpit, except the seat looks different. And it's probably not leather.

"Hey," I said to the asari, who squeaked and jumped. Apparently I scared her, or someth- oh, wait, the voice distortion.

"Sorry about that," I apologized, and took off my helmet. "It's the voice distortion, isn't it?"

The asari nodded. "That and your helmet design. Not the best thing to wear if you don't want to scare someone."

I spun the helmet around in my grip and looked at it properly for the first time. It actually looked fairly similar to the helmet off of the Collector armour that you could get in ME2, except it didn't have the huge mandible-things all over the place, the eyepieces were bigger and coloured blood-red, and the surface was plain steel-gray metal rather than looking like a Collector exoskeleton.

All in all, it was a fairly intimidating looking helmet.

"Sorry about that," I said, "That was probably the idea when the armour was designed. Bit of psychological warfare or some crap like that, probably."

The asari nodded in agreement. Then I added, "By the way, we never really got to make introductions. I'm Julian." I held out my hand to shake.

"Shara," she responded, tentatively accepting my outstretched gauntlet and giving it a small shake. Her hand looked tiny in mine. "Nice to meet you, I guess.

"Anyway, was there something you needed?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," I answered, nodding, "Could you tell me where we are and possibly what year it is?"

She turned back to the console. "Give me a moment," she said over her shoulder. A moment later, she spoke again. "We just got out of orbit of a dwarf planet called Thooft. We're in the Boltzmann system . . . Serpent Nebula." she then whistled quietly. "They were hiding right under the Council's noses."

I raised an eyebrow. That's oddly convenient. Cerberus facility that's within FTL range of the Citadel?

"As for the year," Shara continued, "I have no idea myself what the human year is, but the computer says it's 2183."

My head jerked up. Holy fuck. Cerberus had me for five goddamn years. Jesus fucking Christ, this day seems to be getting longer.

". . . Fuck." was all I could manage to say. I rubbed at my forehead with one hand.

"What's wrong?" Shara asked.

"Five years." I answered. "That's how long Cerberus had me for. You saw what that asshole was doing to me with the control chip. I had to endure him torturing me on a regular basis for five years. That's what's wrong."

I got up and put my helmet back on. I calmed down as I resealed it. Despite only having the armour for a very short time, it was quickly developing into something like a security blanket for me. Probably had something to do with the fact that it fit like a second skin and was actually quite comfortable.

"Thanks, Shara," I said dully. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go . . . think. Or something."

She looked at me sadly. "I understand that you probably want to be left alone right now." she said.

I nodded. "Kinda. If you could let me know when we get to the Citadel, that'd be great. And by the way, how long should it take to get there from here?"

Shara looked back at the console for a moment. "About six hours, give or take." she answered a moment later. I nodded and ducked back out of the cockpit. So I have six hours to figure out what the hell I'm going to do. Fantastic.

I slumped back down into the seat I had previously vacated, letting out a sigh. Alright, so I am in the Mass Effect universe at large, rather than just being a lab rat for a terrorist organization's supersoldier program. I have also grown and bulked up a great deal because of said program, and given how over-the-top Cerberus goes with everything, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm on par with a Krogan, or very close to it. The best - and so far, only - plan that I currently have is helping Shepard out with the fight against the Reapers.

I sighed and dropped my head back against the wall with a clank. Helping Shepard out at this point is going to be somewhat difficult. I never played the first Mass Effect game, and while I know most of what happens in the game, first-hand experience would have been good to have. Not that I won't do my best, but still . . .

My train of thought was abruptly cut off by an electronic voice in my ear.

"Hello, Julian."

A/N: Whooo, cliffhanger! I just couldn't resist.

Sorry about the short chapter length, but this just seemed like a good place to cut off for dramatic effect.

What will happen? Who, or what, is that voice? You'll have to wait for the next chapter for that, I'm afraid. :P