Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect. At all.

A/N: Hello to the fifteen people who've looked at the story so far! As for anyone new, welcome! Glad you stopped by. I'm not very good at this stuff so tell me just how bad it is. Let me know what you think. Edit: Fixed muck up at the end of ch.2., Kudos to a reviewer who pointed out my mess-up on the timeline.

Detroit, Michigan
January 23rd, 2177. 10:00 A.M.

I spent most of the night considering the previous day's events. The non-'save the galaxy' events were haunting me. The only thing I could do was distract myself with the information Mr. Cryptic left behind. I was to go to Detroit metro, and open one of the lockers there. Inside would be the gear I'd need: Omni-tool, credits, and a ticket to Tokyo. That part was also bugging me. How would I help Kasumi? I'm not exactly a soldier. Maybe I could distract the group that was going to hassle her? And all this extra information. Shuttle controls, The layout of the market she was supposed to be in. It seems like they want me to be prepared, at least.

It still left me with a nagging question: did I want to do this? They could easily find someone who could do it better. Some Spec-Ops soldier or something. It doesn't make any sense to me. My inner monologue is interrupted by the chime of the microwave. The place doesn't have much, but it has ramen. Me and ramen, we go way back.

After eating, getting cleaned up, and redressed (I'm not going to question the futuristic version of my outfit I had found that morning) I set off. I didn't really have anything else I could do, so it made sense to do what I was needed for, at least for now. Arriving at the airport, I notice that it isn't equipped for large spaceships. It makes sense, as I consider it; only certain places would be legitimate spaceports on a heavily-populated planet, the other airports would merely direct planetary shuttles. Making my way through the typical crowds you'd expect from an airport, I reach the locker area. I list the required information to the security guard, and make my way in. Upon finding the locker and entering the punch code from the data-pad, I find an Omni-tool, 2000 credits, a card that looked like a chit but was a ticket for the shuttle I would soon be boarding, as well as a second data-pad. This one simply read: "Good to see you decided to help. When you've arrived in Tokyo, go to the luggage area. You will find some things that would've raised flags with security had you carried them aboard. Good luck."

This raises flags with me, but any extra help is a good thing, I'm sure. Moving towards departures, I search for the 12:00P.M. to Tokyo, which was surprisingly easy to locate. I guess they've learned something about flight coordination in 160 years. That was another thing I was forced to think about. Everybody I've ever known is long gone. the thought of it sticks with me as I fiddle with the Omni-tool, determined to understand the device and get it working during the flight.
The actual trip there was surprisingly short, a mere 45 minutes. Of course, air traffic is so congested over Japan that it took another 30 minutes to get groundside. So much for coordination. In that time, I got my Omni-tool up and running. After putting it on (this one basically clips on your wrist and forearm with some wires) I found out that it was a military model, Nexus IV, and had Overload and hacking abilities already installed. The actual interface could be activated by a button on the center chip, but could be programmed to be motion-activated. I don't want to stab myself in the leg or something, so I'll leave that part be.

Once I get groundside, I make my way to luggage as instructed. After bringing up the directory, and letting it scan my Omni-tool, the case pops out of a nearby dispenser. Efficient. Once outside (and away from anyone who would look inside it) I open the case. Inside is a shield generator, an earwig, and a weird backpack. No weapons to speak of, but it's probably better not to shoot my foot off yet. Underneath, I find a third data-pad, and read aloud: "The earwig is actually a temporary translator until I can have one implanted, fun. And the backpack is part storage, part.. Parachute?" I read the last segment again. "In case of emergency, the pack also contains a high-strength parachute." 'Oh, this is going to end badly.'

After getting the pack on and generator up and running (you never know), I set off. My only lead is that Kasumi would be in the markets near the port. Walking there gave me time to admire the architecture, showing that humanity was sometimes capable of great things.

"Stop! Thief!"

'Sigh'. Then again... I make my way towards the yelling, moving in between stalls of touristy junk, only to be bowled over by a diminutive Asian girl. "Ow, dammit.." I mutter, rubbing my head as she immediately stands and continues to run. Only then it clicked: Asian girl, yelling. I could see two stereotypical oversized goons headed this way. 'Okay, think fast, use the area: narrow walkway between stalls, stalls flimsy..' All of the sudden they're running past me. I facepalm at my idiocy, and chase after them.

Turns out oversized goons are a lot easier to track than small Asian girls, as they lost track of her while I keep an eye on them. I'm just starting to think that I wouldn't even need to help Kasumi at all until I hear a deep, triumphant yell, and the sounds of a struggle. I sprint towards the noise and hide by a wall. The two are holding her by the arms, and seem to be waiting for something. A few minutes later, that something turns out to be a seedy-looking man in a stained suit, panting heavily and clutching his side. Boss man, by the look of him. The grin on his greasy-looking face seals it before he even opens his mouth.
"Good job boys" He says to the pair of brutes, before turning his attention to Kasumi. "Well now, you caused a bit of trouble, didn't you sweetheart? Yes, you did. I think me and the boys are going to have fun paying you back for that."

'Okay, enough of this.' I grab the two most painful-looking items I can find from the nearby stall, a couple of bamboo.. I'm not sure what they are, but they'll hurt. The stallkeep is too engrossed with the show to pay attention to me. I approach the group, yelling at the overgrown thugs. "Hey! Gorillas!" To my amusement, they turn and face me. 'Heh, must get called that a lot.' "Eat this!" I chuck each piece of tourist crap at the duo. The first piece only clips the guy's shoulder, but catches his attention. The second is far better, hitting thug #2 in the face. Their focus on me, they drop Kasumi, who dashes without a second thought. Mr. Greasy tries to stop her, but a knee to the groin topples even the best of men. I hear him spending his little remaining air yelling at the goons approaching me.

My problem was the two goons approaching me, go figure. The people around the market are too busy recording the confrontation to be of any assistance. I can see it now: Tourist Pulped by Thugs in Tokyo. I have to think fast again. Well, faster this time. Salvation came in the form of my Omni-tool: Overload. I activate it, rather desperately, with beautiful results. Apparently, Overload on unshielded targets will cause a taser effect. It brings the twin towers of testosterone down into twitching heaps on the ground. With Mr. Creepy still down as well, and the sounds of others approaching, it's time to take my leave.
Moving quickly in the direction of the soon to be infamous thief, I begin to feel something that I haven't in a long time: accomplished. I did something that helped someone. Maybe, I could be of some sort of help after all. I'm brought out of my thoughts by a hand on my arm pulling me out of the street and into an alleyway. Me, ever the eloquent charmer, spoke first.

"Ajsdnyhfru!"

"Didn't mean to spook you, but you're kinda easy to track." The voice, with it's familiar tone, makes me look fully towards the one and only Kasumi Goto. "Why did you help me?" She asks, obviously mistrustful of the slightly sweating person in front of her. "And why did you chase after me?"

"You looked like you needed the help." Taking in her appearance, I realize that she must've been young in the Mass Effect series. 'She doesn't look a day over sixteen.' I offer my hand to her. "Cory Weston." She eyes my hand, but doesn't take it. "Well, those guys won't be down for long, I'm sure. Anywhere we could go?" She looks at me for a long moment, before her lips quirk into a slight smile.

"Yeah, follow me." With that, she's back into the thronging crowds, and with no other choice other than losing track of her, I scramble to keep her in my sights. Little did I know, it wouldn't be the last time I'd be running that day.