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

A/N: Welcome one and all to the next installment of Of Soul and Steel. I've been cleaning up the previous chapters as best I can, and I try to monitor for errors as I go. Don't hesitate to let me know if I miss anything. And if you can, drop a review, even if it's just like "Great. Want more." They make it seem worth it to write the story, and attract more readers, which makes me want to shell out more chapters as often as I can. Shameless plug aside, enjoy :)

Location unknown
January 24th, 2177.

He steps forward, extending his hand, and I realize that I was mistaken. He is even taller, standing at nearly seven feet. With broad-looking soldiers, olive skin, and buzz-cut hair, He would paint a far more intimidating picture if not for the smile on his face as I take his hand.

"Hell, huh? Catchy."

"Trust me," The second of the trio says, a deathly pale, shorter man with a wide scar over his cheek. "You'll come to know it as the same." I nod, looking towards the final member of the little group. A girl, no older than 18 maybe, with dark hair, and... Oh, oh God.

She looks just like Ana.

The same nose, eye shape... As I continue to look, I start to notice the higher cheekbones, the different facial structure. It's not her, but it reminds me of the things that shifted to the back of my mind. I wonder briefly why I'm not a gibbering mess, curled up on the floor.

"Um, why are you staring at me?" She asks. Shit.

"Sorry" I say quickly, averting my eyes and walking towards one of the free beds. "You just... Remind me of someone I used to know." I sit down, and look back towards the group. "My name is Cory." Surprisingly, the pale man chuckles.

"Kid, names don't matter here." He looks towards the larger man. "Delta, maybe you should explain the situation." I raise my eyebrows.

"Alright," 'Delta' says. "Where should I start? ah, okay." He looks towards the locked door before continuing. "Each of us here was coerced, tricked, or simply forced to come here. As for the reason," he glances at me before continuing. "We're here because we showed traits that would prove beneficial for a program these guys have been running. They're developing our combat skills, our motor functions, and our general knowledge of warfare. They're trying to make super soldiers."

"That sounds insane. Who are these people?" I ask.

"We're not sure." He replies. "Not Alliance, I know that much. I was in the Alliance before I ended up here. They wouldn't do something this extreme."

"Then who?" My suspicions were pointing me towards something, but I couldn't be sure.

"Like I said, we're not sure. I do know that this facility is extremely small, and we're the only 'subjects' here."

"And the name?" I inquire.

"The doctors here gave it to me. They seem to recycle Greek letters."

"Wait, recycle?"

He looks at me a moment, than motions me to follow him. I do, and we head into the bathroom. He fills the sink with water, and submerges the hand that has a wristband like mine on it, motioning for me to do the same.

"We can talk now, so long as we're quiet. There are microphones in the devices, but the water distorts the sound coming through."

"Clever."

"You can thank Alpha for that one."

"Alpha?"

"The girl. She's been here longer than me or Gamma. Ghost, as the nickname goes."

"Ghost, huh? Kinda cheesy."

"Each one of us can take a nickname, makes us feel special I guess. I've never wanted one, and I guess Alpha hasn't either. But back to the reason we're pruning our fingers. Alpha has said that there were others here before her, and just vanished without any announcement or reason. We assume the tests and experiments take their tolls, killing us one way or the other." A cold chill runs up my spine at these words.

"Wait, what?" His face is dark as he explains.

"We weren't joking about the hell thing. The shit they make us do here... Their methods either work extremely well, or cause your painful death. I'm not sure which is worse, with these people."

"So we're lab rats."

"More or less."

"Shit, do you guys have a plan?"

"Of a sort. I'll let you know when it actually starts to form. For now, we've just been swiping what we can. Random crap, most of which is useless. But we'll figure it out."

"Lovely." He takes his hand out of the water, and I follow him back to the bunks.

"For now, you've got a reprieve. The only thing they'll pull you for is a scan." Seeing my confusion, he elaborates. "It's a full body scan that'll give them a sense of how to train you. That, coupled with the psych evaluation, Will show what you might excel in, be it shotguns, snipers, biotics. Whatever you may be predisposed to."

"I'm not 'predisposed' to anything." I argue.

"There must be some reason you're here." He replies.

I think about this. 'Everything I've done lately? Most people would've fallen to pieces. I'm not far from it, but I'm still sane. Why? And how have I taken down people without flinching? It almost feels like instinct... And I don't know how to feel about that.' Delta looks at me a moment, and continues.

"Well, anyways, grab an empty bunk and relax. The real shit begins soon." I heed his words, sitting down on one of the beds as Gamma dims the lights on a wall-mounted switch and Alpha and Delta try to unwind. As I consider everything Delta has told me, I start to process everything that has happened over the past 4 days. It feels like it has been weeks. I reach for my tags on instinct only to find they're not there. As my stomach drops I lay down fully, curling away from the others. it's time to let myself grieve.

I'm awakened by the sound of my shackle beeping. As I groggily sit up I realize that it hasn't been a nightmare, but a sick reality.

What a fun way to start the day.

The wristband beeps again, and I start to move towards the door barefoot, my shoes taken from me before I first woke up here. As I pay attention to the lack of the others in the room, I only wonder what is in my future. The door opens, revealing two armed guards and the sick bastard that 'interviewed' me.

"Well now, Mr. Weston. Good to see you're awake."

"Good to see you doc," I answer sarcastically. "How's your blue friend?"

"A bit traumatized, but no lasting damage," He replies easily." You know, Mr. Weston, you are interesting. Atypical. Nobody has fought so hard against a mind probe with such successful results."

"I try to be unique." I reply wistfully.

"Time will tell if that is useful to us. For now, we need to run some tests on you to check your abilities." He turns to the two guards."Take him to Exam Room 2, and let Sasha know she has a patient." He then walks away, leaving me to my fate.

It turns out modern medicine is highly efficient. After being brought to the room and told to behave under fear of the item biting into my wrist, The guards leave, and are replaced by a kind-looking woman in a nurse's uniform. As she runs the non-invasive, highly intelligent V.I.-operated scan on me, she starts to speak.

"You know, Dr. Decker might not seem friendly, but he has humanity's best interests at heart."

"Decker's his name, huh?" I ask. "And he has humanity's best interests at heart? What about everyone else?" I ask, expecting a racist reply.

"Humanity is a newcomer to the galactic stage. We need to prove we're just as capable as anyone else before we'll be taken seriously, and the other races will accept our help." I'm surprised by this view, and tell her so. "Not everyone here is some xenophobic, head-up-their-ass fool who thinks humanity should rule over all. I agree with the program's goals, but not with their personnel."

I look at her with surprise, glancing at my wrist.

She's quick to reply. "Don't worry, those audio things never work around me. My Omni-tool jams those. I don't like being spied on." I smile at her words, but my next question is far more bitter.

"Sasha, do you know exactly what goes on here?" she frowns, surprised I know her name.

"I hear things.." she replies uneasily.

"You must know some of it. Do you think it is really for the good of humanity?" My eyes plead with her, but she clams up immediately.

"Look, it's not my place to question results." She stops at the sounds of the scan completing. "Interesting. I'll forward the results of this to Decker. The guards will escort you back to your quarters."

I walk towards the door, but stop short. "Sasha, it's your place as a good person to question things that are morally unjust. For your sake, be careful of the company you keep." She shivers at the warning in my voice, And as I leave, she can't meet my eyes.

Welcome, Jack. Please enter your password

Authorizing...

Accepted

Loading requested files: Deckeraudiolog 472,

Opening Deckeraudiolog 472:

"When the Titan program began 5 years ago, I was a naive man believing science was a grand and beautiful thing that would help everyone it came across. I soon learned that the ends can justify any means. The work we've done here so far has been too valuable to let morals get in our way. We will make sure that humanity has the respect it deserves with this project.

Mr. Weston is an intriguing individual. His scans show an impressive mental fortitude, and I've seen first hand over the past week of drills that he is enduring for someone of his stature, even more so impressive when I learned he is only fifteen. He has a remarkable will to survive.

The scans also revealed the other reason the mental probe was ineffective: Mr. Weston has Eezo in his system, but no implant. As such, it is undeveloped, and there isn't enough there to make him effective as a biotic. I'm only surprised that this has not been noticed before, but it shows no signs of harming him. However, it did give him a sort of passive resistance to biotics, which is highly fascinating. If we found a way to direct this ability, perhaps make a device that mimics this process, we could have another defense against biotic power.

But moving on. He is intelligent, fairly quick for his size, and he shows proficient abilities with the sniper rifle and pistol, as well as a decent grasp with the other standard weapons tested. Further training will bolster these traits and others. I've authorized the Phoenix Nanomites and Neural Optical Enhancer, and am considering the Neural Reflex Booster and Hypertrophy Regulator, as well as a Nociceptor Inhibitor. We will have to monitor the first two for signs of rejection or impairment. They're experimental, but they should give us good information for when we make better, safer models for soldiers.

I have decided to give Mr. Weston the title of Epsilon, and when he was informed of this he decided to be called 'Echo'. While I am unsure of it's ultimate meaning, It will suffice. For now, Echo is settling in with his bunkmates with no problems. Alpha, our longest-surviving test subject so far, has taken a particular interest in him. When asked, she simply said "It feels as though I should know him somehow" I will monitor their social interactions for any developments.

This is Dr. Francis Decker, Titan Research Center, February 2nd, 2177.

A/N: Sorry for the delay guys, my weekend has been unfairly busy. As for questions a guest asked, all will be revealed in time, but for now we are in the dark as much as our protagonist.