Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect. I also do not own any of the music rights or their artists, I only reference them in this non-profit story. Dont hate.
A/N: Hey guys! We hit over two thousand views at some point on this little story, which is 1,500 more than I actually expected. Cheers! As a side note, my author name, adding xz to the end, can be found on a popular gaming website that relates to pipes. I only have Left 4 Dead 2 right now, which I do not own the rights to, merely play, but plan on others. Hit me up for a game.
March 6th, 2180. Operative Echo is asked by an acquaintence what he'd want to see on a shotgun. Echo responds he'd like something with more range and armor-piercing capabilities. When asked on how to make this possible, he suggests the ammo be cut into wedges instead of pellets. The idea, while strange, proves to be effective. The Eviscerator is scheduled to be mass-produced later this year. Echo is credited with assisting the design, and is given partial profit for all units sold.
October 20th, 2180. Echo is tasked with the assassination of the current commander of Eclipse forces In the Terminus. Accessing files... Complete.
I lay in wait, silent, as the patrol passes by. There are more mercs here then there was supposed to be. It makes my job more interesting.
I move like a spirit, felt by most but seen by none. Three fall to my blade before I reach the watchman, eyes unfocused. Lazy.
I end his shift, taking up my own watch on the field. There, 400 meters and closing, the Salarian was calmly looking over a shipment of some kind, weapons by the look of the warning labels. Unfolding the rifle on my back, I take a moment to admire the monster in my arms.
The Barrett M-107 was a popular heavy-caliber rifle in my time. With the popularity of mass-effect weapons, standard weapons fell to the wayside to make way for these new death dealers. However, the Krogan have always respected weapons no matter how they kill. I went to Granith with the idea, and he delivered in amazing style. Using a Krogan-based munitions mixture, I now held a rifle that could fire ten times with the force of an M-98 Widow. Lightweight, high-density materials meant it that it is easy to carry, though it can't fold up completely, only slightly folding into itself to be less cumbersome. The downside to it is the recoil, which could take off most people's arm, but I handle with enough ease due to my implants. All in all, it is a scary weapon.
Which the Salarian commander realized as what sounds like a cannon goes off along the ridgeline, but the .50-caliber round that tears through his head ends all fear pretty quickly. The three rounds put into a refueling tank stationed next to several gunships cause a satisfyingly large enough distraction that anyone moving quickly enough wouldn't be noticed.
End File.
January 19th, 2181. Operative Echo is unreachable for three days, which consist of his birthday and the days after it. Questioning Delta who took his place on mission revealed that someone he cared about died in that timeframe. He ignores all who try to speak to him, including Delta.
March 20th, 2181. Lidria Iallis, an Asari that operative Echo 'spent time with' during his vacation, seeks him out on the citadel.
"Cory!"
I look in the crowd, and sure enough, Lidria is there. I smile slightly, uneasy with the sudden need to speak to me. I'm in my usual outfit; blue camo hoodie with some black cargo pants and sneakers. Strange to most on the Citadel, but they're comfortable.
She leads me to a small restaurant before sitting down, motioning for me to sit down.
"It's been a long time. How are you?" I start off.
"I've been well." She answers, seemingly nervous. "Look, there's something I need to tell you. I know that you lead a pretty dangerous life, and I'm not telling you this as some ploy to get back together with you, I just thought you should know." I look at the picture she's holding, a baby Asari.
"Cute kid. Yours?" She nods, but continues to speak.
"Yes... And yours."
Wat.
"Ajsdnyhfru?."
She seems scared now. "Well.. I hit my matron stage a few years ago, and when I looked into your mind, I couldn't get through. But I could feel that you were someone special, someone gifted."
"So.. So what.? You wanted my genetic makeup? Do you realize how insane that is?" My voice rises slightly, more out of shock than anger.
"It's not like that... Not really. I should've asked first, I know. Look, you don't have to worry about raising her. Most Asari raise their children alone anyways, and-" She's cut off by my hand raised to pause her.
"Look.." I begin, taking a deep breath." If this is my daughter, then I want to be apart of her life, in whatever way I can. I owe her that much to be a better parent than what I had."
"Really?" She asks, and I nod. " I didn't think.. You'd actually care."
"You must've met some shitty Humans then, in your time." I answer.
"Or just no great ones." She responds. "I wasn't going to tell you at first, but... I had twins, and one of them didn't make it. I figured.. You deserved to at least know. I know you're young, and frankly, I don't want my daughter to be raised by a merc.. But, I think in a few years you'll either be more mature, or dead. By then, she'll be old enough to recognize you."
I don't know what hurts me more, her wanting to completely to completely cut me from the equation, or my ability to nearly accept that right off. "Look, allow me to help you. I can get you anything you need-"
"I already have enough Cory. You're a great guy, and I respect you, but please accept my decision on this."
"... No."
"No."
"I want to be apart of her life, at least a little. Give me that." She looks at me a long moment before answering.
"Okay." I nod.
"So, what's her name?"
"Lettiandra." End file.
August 25th, 2181. Operative Echo shows signs of a disease currently extinct on Earth, Tuberculosis. Medical scans confirm this is not the case, but he continues to cough up blood and experience pain. He has started taking an synthetic pain reliever that hasn't affected his abilities.
November 10th, 2182. Operatives Echo and Delta attract the attention of other highly skilled mercenaries, forming a small alliance of five individuals, Echo and Delta included. Delta call the group 'Echo Rho Tau', mostly to annoy Echo, but it sticks.
January 26th, 2182. Studies confirm Echo's condition linked to his implants, an embedded kill-switch. The more injuries he sustains, the faster his condition will take affect, ultimately leading to massive internal hemorrhaging. The implants are also linked to too many of his organs; to remove them now would kill him. I have not told him the extent of this danger. At his current rate, this will kill him in 10 years.
February 20th, 2182. The Spartan armor, after long delays of getting it to Echo's exact specifications and Granith's not accepting anything but exactly what Echo wanted, is complete. A similar suit is being designed for Delta, though it will be easier to complete using the schematics of Echo's set.
April 14th, 2182. At the insistence of Kasumi Goto, Echo releases a new style of music he previously wouldn't. He also does these songs in person, with a surprising amount of accuracy. He performs in the studio under the name of Marshal Mathers. The first song, "Mockingbird" goes to the top of N.W.I. charts. The actual song has been changed slightly, relating to Echo.
July 16th, 2182. Echo's new suit earns fame as he and Delta bring down a slaving ring alongside Kasumi Goto. He is described by some slaves as "a dark avenger in black armor." Kasumi took several of the youngest to safety while he and Delta clear the ship the slaves were being held on, with no friendly casualties.
September 15th, 2182. Echo takes time out of his new training program to visit his daughter for her birthday. Her mother is still hesitant about Echo's involvement, but cares about him enough to respect his wishes.
December 18th, 2182. Echo's condition has become more frequent, but he has stopped taking the pain reliever, calling it "addicting', and causing him to be emotionless at times.
E.R.T. gains notice as a very highly-skilled group of mercenaries.
January 30th, 2183. As per Echo's request, he has been receiving reports of Pilgrimage movements from the Migrant Fleet. Upon reading the latest list, he asked for a audio call. Granted, he said that while he appreciated the work I sent his way, he couldn't currently take on any more work. He said that he was respectfully stepping down from being an operative. I let him go graciously, and Delta too. As per agreement, his 'friend' is now paying to keep his information largely secret.
A/N: I'm sorry if I've been rushing the story a bit, but it is as I stated previously. I will go back and add chapters to the backstory era if it is so requested. We are getting into the big leagues now guys and gals(?). Let me know what you think, one way or another.