Darkness crept in the corner of his vision as he struggled to remain conscious. Shepard felt the pain in his pulverized back, his aching head, and churning of his insides which he felt had been turned to soup by the biotic surge. It was becoming an unfavorable trend, finding himself on his back at the most inappropriate times, this being the latest. He made an unsuccessful attempt at clearing up his vision by lifting his head and let it fall limp with a thud on the metal floor. A blurry shape stood over him and in that moment realization washed over him and the events of the last few minutes came flooding back to him. He tensed up, his vision instantly coming into focus to gaze upon the enigmatic figure standing over him, a figure that filled him with the purest sense of shock and awe. For its height, which he pondered to be around eight feet, it had an incredibly slender body build with a smooth stringy texture to its skin. Its arms were just as thin as were its legs, which made up most of its height. Long, thick tendrils extended from its head, chest, back, and legs in seemingly random spots that made its body look as if it were covered in a mess of loose wiring. Its most striking feature were its eyes, large and as black as the void of space with tiny yellow pupils that appeared as stars in the night sky.

The Prothean kneeled down to him and said in its native tongue, "You are the one…" slowly it reached out to touch him while its body flared up in a biotic aura. The instant its index finger connected with the forehead the nightmarish visions of the past ignited in his mind like a wild fire. His body jerked and convulsed as he struggled with each breath of air. Suddenly, all at once, there was a loud clunk and he was back in the lab with a very distressed Miranda standing over an unconscious prothean. She looked to Shepard and offered her hand.

"Are you alright, commander?" Garrus rushed to his side and with Miranda's assistance, helped the spectre to his feet.

"That was a heavy kick you just took, Shepard. What did it do to you?" Shepard glanced at the turian in response to his question. He blinked several times, trying to clear the images from his eyes.

"I saw…them, just as I did when I interacted with the beacons. I think it knew about me. I don't know how but it did." Miranda kneeled down beside the prothean and nudged it several times with her pistol.

"We can figure that out when it wakes up. In the meantime we should get this…" the former Cerberus operative paused and gave the limp alien a kick, "…thing locked down in the med bay for analysis."

…

After the hefty task of getting the alien into the med bay, Shepard, along with Doctor Chakwas' help, had the prothean safely fastened and secured to one of the medical tables with an erected force field for extra control. Two had to be used to support the height of the alien. While it remained asleep, Chakwas proceeded to run a full medical work-up and other unorthodox testing, making sure to close the shutters on the windows to avoid distraction from the nosey onlookers of the crew. Shepard stood by eagerly awaiting the exotic alien to regain consciousness.

"Doctor Chakwas," he needed in greeting. "How's the patient?" Chakwas turned away from her computer and looked to him to answer.

"From what I've gathered, it appears to be in good health. But I'm quite overwhelmed by the complexity of its physiology." She pointed to chart on the screen. "These readouts indicate a significant amount of brainwave activity, almost twice that of any known species even in its state of dream. Nothing alive could maintain this level of neural activity without risking seizure or worse. It's unlike anything I've ever encountered." Shepard walked over the medical bed staring down at the prothean.

"So what exactly does that tell us about them?"

"For one thing, they're capacity for intelligence exceeds even the asari. From your experience, I would also say that its potential in biotics is beyond our understanding."

Shepard traced his fingers along the arm of the alien, surprised to find that despite its smooth texture, it had a leathery feel to it. "When it woke up, it said something to me. It said I was the one…" he turned to the doctor and asked, "What do you think?"

"I think you should ask it yourself," Chakwas replied, pointing to the prothean that began to stir. Shepard quickly turned back to the alien, staring suspiciously. It opened its eyes and scanned the room before fixing its gaze on the human spectre. Both were silent for a while.

"Can you understand me?" he asked. A strange sense of deja-vu came with his question.

"Yes," there was a familiar simple answer to a simple question. The alien glanced at its arms and legs, seeing the shackles that secured it to the bed. "Are these restraints really necessary?" Shepard circled the bed as he replied.

"For now they are. You already attacked us once and I'm not willing to risk the chance that you might do so again." Chakwas remained unaware of the nature of the conversation. Only Shepard could understand the prothean language, courtesy of the beacons.

"If you were to awake and find yourself confined to a nutrient tank, would you not be just as likely to overreact, young human?" it replied back, following the spectre in its gaze.

"I can't say I've never been in a similar situation. But that's far from what I want to discuss." He could not quite place it, but there was something oddly familiar about its voice. "You look like you understand me perfectly so I'd like you to tell me what you meant when you said I was the one."

The prothean tested its restraints. "Release me and I will be happy to explain myself," it replied. Despite its current circumstance, there was no anger in its tone or on its features. It was like talking to an emotionless automaton. He suspected its demand to be a ruse for it to employ another biotic attack. "Human, I have exchanged memories with you. I know everything you know and I understand why I am here. I give you my word I will not bring any harm upon you or your kinsmen."

Shepard became silent, pondering. Now he remembered what was causes that overwhelming sense of deja-vu. It made him think back to when he first brought Legion aboard and—after a quick interrogation—allowed the geth platform to join his crew. There was no sense in trusting a prothean clone less than a member of the geth collective. For all he knew the alien could surprise him, or bite him in the ass later, but he was willing to take that risk. They had already come this far.

Bringing his omni-tool online, he deactivated the force field with a few inputs and then unlocked the metal restraints. The prothean sat to massage its sore, slim wrists before sliding off the table and standing in an awkward, hunched over stance that he assumed was natural for a species of such tremendous height. "Thank you." It said with a nod. "Now as I promised…" It inhaled deeply. "The relic you recovered on one of your missions, the one that belonged to my people, it is a databank designed to transmit, receive, and store. When you first touched it, it downloaded your memories into its database, transferring them to me when I awoke. I know that you are Commander Shepard, captain of the Normandy and the first human spectre. I know of your conflict with the reapers and your defeat of Sovereign at the citadel two years ago. But most importantly, I know that you were able to access the beacons left behind by my people."

Shepard took a step back. "What makes that so important? Saren was also able to use the beacons without any trouble."

"The one you call Saren was able to exchange with the beacons because of his connection to Nazara," the prothean replied, leaning in closely to the human dramatically. "In truth, it would have destroyed him as it would have with you."

"Are you saying he is somehow connected to the reapers?" Chakwas interjected. The prothean turned to with a curious expression as if he had thought her to be mute. The thought slipped him that he had been speaking in human tongue since awakening.

"It's not quite that simple. When we realized that we were losing our war with the reapers, we knew we had to devise a plan to preserve a warning to the races that would eventually inherit the galaxy though we had no way of doing so because only a prothean mind could survive interaction with the beacons. That was what drew us to you. During the reign of the Prothean Empire we studied many primitive races, yours was among them. Ksad Ishan, director of the Ilos facility, theorized that the vast DNA variations of your people would allow us to make a slight genetic modification that would grant humans the ability to survive the transfer process with the beacons. They approved the procedure and performed it on a small number of test subjects, pleased to find that most had survived. Thus the gene was passed down through many generations and therefore…" the prothean reached out and nudged the commander's chest with its a finger, "to you."

"So what, I have prothean in me? Am even human?" By now Shepard's heart had almost stopped. It was one revelation after another with this strange being.

The alien continued, "In a sense, yes you are, but you are also human. The genetic code is so small that it would have gone unnoticed by your scientists. You may very well be the last of the carriers. That is why the reapers were so interested in your body. They wished to know as well how you accessed the beacons and lived."

"I have to admit that I'm thoroughly convinced that you're telling the truth," and though he never expected to be persuaded so quickly, something inside him said that it was ok to trust the prothean regardless of proof of allegiance. There were still a few questions, though they could wait until the appropriate time. Right now, he had to decide what to do with it now that it was awake. "If you know everything I know, then you know that the Sovereign got his hands on an age old super-weapon."

"Indeed I fully comprehend the gravity of your predicament, little human, and I am prepared to serve my purpose as your aid in the coming war." There was a hint of sincerity in its voice, finally something that confirmed it was not a hollow shell of nothingness.

Alright, that just leaves one thing left," Shepard stepped closer to the prothean, looking straight into its hypnotizing yellow eyes. "What do I call you?"

"An identity was not among the images in my imprint, but I would prefer to be addressed by the name of my creator who's genetics were used to bore me," In a move that took the spectre off guard, the prothean lowered itself onto both knees, folded both arms together, and bowed. "I am Ksad Ishan, and I am sworn to assist you in any manner you require so as I live, or my purpose be completed." Now he recalled, the voice, the tone, the mannerisms, even the name. Vigil had mentioned the original Ksad to be director of the Illos facility, the one who oversaw the development of the conduit. The prothean AI must have taken its voice from no other than the same Ksad, and therefore to his clone.

"It's an honor and a privilege to have you under my command, Ksad." The prothean stood to see the human offering to shake his hand. Were it not for the memory exchange he would not have known what it meant. He engulfed the human's tiny hand in his own large one and shook it awkwardly. "I'd offer you a quarters but the crew deck is full and you're too big to fit into the cryo-tubes. For now you'll have to resign to sleeping here in the med bay."

"I am grateful, but your hospitality is not required, Shepard." Ksad looked to the doctor and nodded before focusing back on the human spectre. "Now I believe I have an appointment with your Mordin Solus. I fear I will see my skin decay before my very eyes unless I have my growth enzyme neutralized."

"Granted, I'll send for him and tell him to expect you." Shepard did an once-over of the prothean. "I apologize in advance for any strange looks you may get from my crew. We have been studying the remains of your race for decades. This is quite a shock for all of us. It may be best that I escort you there myself."

"Of course," Ksad replied. Though he knew the ship's layout already, it was still a little frightening to awake in such a new and different world. "Please, lead and I will follow."

…

Shepard sighed heavily letting the back of his headrest against the wall. He took in several deep breaths feeling his heart rate slow and the tension in his muscles relax. A few hours had flown by after since his discussion with Ksad. Mordin has returned to the tech lab to find the prothean and the human spectre waiting for. The salarian genius was ecstatic if not a little wary with his new lab assistant, though he was confident that their combined efforts would yield many solutions on their current Sovereign problem. The salarian became quite annoyed a few times when he tried to explain the facts of their situation only to find that the prothean had already acquired all the knowledge from Shepard's shared memories. No scientist likes to have his sentences finished, especially by someone of superior intelligence.

It was only now that Shepard was alone did he feel the weight of the passed twenty-four hours bearing down on him. He reached for the burn mark on his neck and winced slightly from the sting. Roman Able, the apparent masked marauder of this story was real enigma to him. Before today, he had never heard the name or even met the man, and now he conveniently appears from out of the blue with information that could very well break the case concerning Anderon's murder. He was he, a bounty hunter, mercenary, or God forbid, a spectre? There was so much that did not add up. How had he come into possession of the data? If it was indeed, Armando Bailey that discovered the data, then where was he now? Had this shrouded man perhaps kidnapped or worse, killed him? There was also the matter of the forged documents he used to steel the councilor's corpse. It would take an expert—no—a genius to forge the council's electronic signature. This man was clearly a pro who had this charade planned down to the last detail.

Of course, even his current complications could not build a dam high enough to hold by the river of angst that spilled from his broken heart. Tali, he knew it was only a matter of time before they had their first marital fight, but he never expected it to hurt so much. The words he used… he acted as if she had never endured through the loss of a loved one when in fact she had more than three times now. The words of their argument echoed off the walls in his mind, replaying repeatedly only fueling the anger he felt, anger toward himself. He did not mean it, did he? He was drunk after all, how could he possibly have meant it. Whatever the excuse, he could not stop mentally punishing himself. She was right to strike him out of his stupor. He deserved it and he knew it as well as she did. However, there was an old saying about 'trouble in paradise' situations, "Never go to bed with a grudge," with that in mind, he boarded the elevator and waited for it to arrive at the cabin. He hoped she would be willing to listen.

"Here goes nothing…," he thought. With a soft chime, the hatch opened. He gathered his wits and courage with a single deep breath and took his first steps onto the Normandy's first deck. His heart felt heavier with each step toward as if it would fall into his gut. He hesitantly reached for the hologram only to have it buzz and turn red, signifying his denied entry.

"Commander, Tali'Zorah was very specific that I was not to allow you access to the cabin," EDI spoke. Now this was getting silly, he felt like he was in a bad romantic comedy where the wife would use her girlfriends as a barrier from her husband. This was his ship and he was not going to go to sleep without having this issue resolved.

"I know EDI, but I have to make things right with her. As your captain, I'm ordering you to open this door," EDI became silent, leaving Shepard waiting dumbly for a response. "EDI… EDI!" he sighed sullenly and reached out to knock on the door but stopped himself. Maybe it was best that he gave her time to heal, to cope. Tali was a strong individual mentally and physically, but emotionally she was very sensitive. An application of medi-gel would not fix a wound like that.

Lowering his arm to his side, he resigned himself to leaving her to her thoughts for the night. He walked back to the elevator, head sunk and downtrodden. He prayed this incident would not break the bond they swore to one another on the Neema. Either way, he was most likely sleeping in the med bay tonight. He hoped protheans did not snore…

Hope you all enjoyed my depiction of a prothean. I used the statues on Ilos as a reference and tried to keep the description as close as possible. R&R please! Tell me what you think! Also, I know my chapters are getting shorter, but it makes it easier to write and quicker to update. Next chapter I will try to finish up Zaeed and Aranya's story arc.