Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, or anything to do with it. I'm not making profit off of this story.

A/N: how's it going guys, I'm here with another chapter of the story. Things get into the big leagues, and I'll try to make the story canon enough to be Mass Effect but adding my own flavor to it. And as for my character, he may be skilled, but do you think that a person who's been through as much as him is all there? Things will not be a simple walk in the park. I hope I do the combat justice. Also, a guest reviewed asking about a cliffhanger[?] all will be revealed... Probably. Edit: Added a mostly irrelevant point to the timeline at this time concerning my favorite artist. Labeled April 14th, 2182.

Aroch Ward, Citadel.

February 7th, 2183.

As I look into the mirror, a man who looks like he's seen hell stares back out at me. A blade scar cutting from right eyebrow to an inch below his eye, a wide scar over his lip on the left side, and eyes that look thousands of years old. A lean-looking 6'1", a surprising 200 pounds of muscle and skin, he looks a lot leaner than he is. The brief look of the additional scars and tattoos across his body before the shirt goes on suggests an active life for his 21 years.

"For all I've been through," I mutter to myself. "I'm nervous about this. I have a mixed rep, and if Shepard is a tightass paragon, I doubt I'll make the cut. Hope to god he's not some white knight." I amuse myself with this statement. "I'm long past hoping to Him for anything."

I don my customized gear, the white now faded and red lining replaced with a silver. the bracers, at least, I've kept in peak condition, and I had a third made from the design of the second, for emergency replacements. I am ready for this.

"Delta." I greet him as I walk out of the bathroom.

"Echo." he responds. We know each other's names, but rarely use them these days.

"So you're certain you won't accompany me?" I've asked him before if he'd want to help me on this, without revealing the fact that I know exactly what is going to happen.

"You know why man." He says."I'm not exactly a friend of the Alliance anymore. They either think I'm dead, or a deserter. It wouldn't work out, brother." I nod, accepting this.

"If all goes according to plan, I'll be traveling all over, stopping the end of the galaxy." I say dramatically.

"You really believe that, huh?"

"Yup."

"well, have fun. Don't forget to write!" He calls as I head out the door, and I shake my head.

As I walk towards the rapid transit, I consider my plan of action. I could hang around Dr. Michel's office, or even the C-Sec offices. My next thought makes me smile.

'Or, I could go get drunk.'

Chora's Den isn't a very refined establishment, but that fact made the bad guys open about their business. I watch the comings and goings of the people, brushing off the waitresses/dancers, the look of a pleasant buzz obscuring my alert eyes.

"Hey." I look up at the Turian staring down at me.

"Yeah?"

"I could use your help on something. You look like a capable guy, considering the pistol tucked in your jacket." My lips quirk at this. "Yeah, I saw. I do the same thing." he says. "Assassins know how to spot assassins better than anybody. You busy?"

"Depends on what you need." I say carefully.

"Well, me and a buddy are trying to track down these two suit rats," He gestures to the other Turian at the bar. "And this is too important to mess up. So, here." He sends a message to my Omni-tool. "If you're around the lower part of the Ward later, just message me. We might need back up, just in case."

"And if I help?"

"Then you'll get a cut of the action."

"How much?" He smiles.

"10,000 credits."

"Must be important." I say.

"It is."

"Then you wouldn't mind sparing 15." His smile drops.

"Fine, 15. But only if we need you."

"I'll be around." Fate, it seems, is a funny thing.

"You rang?" I answer.

"Yeah! Stupid little.. The bitch is heading your way. She torched Jacobus! Look, stop her, and you'll get his cut. Just do it!"

"I'll be waiting." I answer.

The marketplace down here was a mass of people buying, selling, haggling. A Yahg could charge through with barely any notice. So when a Quarian clutching her side tried to come through, nobody payed any real attention. I shake my head at this, and intercept her.

"let go of me!" She growls in her accented voice as I pull her into the alley, before slumping against the wall, obviously exhausted.

"Hey!" I answer, looking at her. "I'm saving your ass, so calm down." I look toward the crowd, spotting the Turian I spoke to earlier heading our way.

"Man, I'm glad you found her." He starts, relaxing. "I wasn't sure if you would-Huurk!" The sound that comes from him is far less relaxed as my left blade plunges through his throat. I drag him farther into the alley, wiping blue blood from my blade as I walk back towards the Quarian.

"You can trust me, miss." I extend my hand to her. She takes it shakily, so wobbly on her feet I have to get her right arm around my shoulders, and assist her in moving. "Come on, I know someone who can help."

"Chloe."

"Cory! What happened?" I am greeted by Dr. Michel, one of many doctors I've seen over the past year.

"She was shot, Chloe. Some bad people are trying to track this girl down." I answer, gently setting the girl down on a bed.

"Well, you've come to the right place." She says, immediately seeing to her patient.

"I thought so," I say, smiling. "For your trouble." I set a credit chit down on the nearby table.

"I don't want your money, Cory." She chides me.

"Well, it's not for helping her." I answer. "I'll need some medical equipment. My emergency supplies aren't going to cut it for what I have in mind."

"Oh?" She says, already looking too scold me again.

"Yeah, I need a better capacity, and I'm going to need some Dextro Medi-gel as well."

"O..Kay," She answers. "And what about her?" She gestures to the now unconscious Quarian.

"Give her my Omni-tool info after she comes to," I answer. "My emergency one. I need to check on something."

"You're not going to wait here?" She asks. I shake my head.

"Something has been set in motion here, Chloe. I've got to get to the bottom of it."

"You be careful, Cory."

"No promises, doc."

I sit back down in my spot at Chora's Den, calmly waiting as time goes on. Many hours spent looking through a scope has given me a patience I lacked when I was younger. Eventually, I see a red-armored Krogan walk in and two red and black-armored Turians walk out. 'Showtime.' I think, heading for the door.

I step out quickly, ducking behind the railing as gunfire starts to erupt. I wait a beat before rushing the armored men in cover, driving a blade through the back of the skull of the first before turning the second's face into shreds with my pistol. The fire from the group across the way stops, and as I carefully stand up, hands unarmed, I get my first look at Commander Shepard and company.

Kaiden Alenko and Ashley Williams look how I expected, only real. The Commander is a light-skinned, dark-haired man who looks like he has seen his own share of hell, with scars along his lips and eyebrow in the average configuration, and deep blue eyes, carefully assessing the situation. His eyes zero in on mine as he calls out.

"Thanks for the assist. Now, who in the hell are you?" Not a stick in the mud, then.

"A merc, Mr. Alliance." I answer. "You looked like you needed some help."

"I'm sure me and my people could handle it," He says, a smirk on his face. "But thank you."

"No problem." I answer, walking away.

"Hey," He says suddenly. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Nowhere, sir. Except the shadows." I answer cryptically as I move towards the alley.

Making up my mind, I simply wait for the pseudo-meeting to go down. Time seems to crawl by as I hear what sounds like more than three people marching towards Chora's Den on a mission. 'Things are coming to a head.' I think. I'm waiting for her to show in the alley, but am interrupted by my Omni-tool chiming. Confused, I answer it.

"Hello?" I hear the accented voice again. "Is this Cory?"

"Yeah," I answer. "What's wrong?"

"I was supposed to be meeting the Shadow Broker in the markets," She says, which is different from my memory. "But these thugs have showed up. Dr. Michel said I could trust you, so I need your help." My answer comes quick.

"Stall them, if you can. I'm on my way."

It's a short jog to the market that she mentioned, and it looks abandoned save the meeting happening now. Seven people, with two Turians, four Salarians, and a Krogan all looking as suspicious as can be in the empty market. On the other side, a Quarian who looks like she is going to fall over.

"Where is the Shadow broker?" She asks the Turian in front of her. "Where is Fist?" I tune out the rest of the transaction as I consider my options. With the conversation between the two ending, I move.

I take off at a run, using the crates along the wall as a runup to boost myself into the air. The flashbang I throw at the krogan catches him in the face as I land on two of the salarians, my blades finding purchase in their skulls. The M-84 goes off after I shut my eyes, and the resulting sound has my head ringing despite my earplugs. The other two salarians are rolling around in pain from the combination of the flashbang and the tech mine that was thrown at the end of the conversation, and the Krogan looks like he just woke up with a massive hangover, dead to the world. I sprint to the Turian grappling with the girl, slamming my blade home in the side of his neck, only to be grabbed from behind and choked by the other Turian. I'm struggling with him for a brief moment before a pistol goes off next to my face. On the other side is a trembling set of arms, attached to someone who looks like they only just realized what happened. As the Turian slumps to the ground, I gently guide the pistol towards the ground.

"Hey, look at me." I tell her. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah." she answers shakily, Only for her eyes to widen. "Look out!"

I turn around to see an armored fist flying for me. I duck, grabbing the attached arm and twisting them over my head. As they hit the ground. I extend my blade an inch from their throat.

"Enough!" I hear the shout, looking up but finding it's not entirely aimed at me. "Williams, I told you to stand down." I look at the pink-armored figure below me, and I step away. She gets up before answering.

"I had to act, Commander. You heard what Fist said!"

"And you heard me say that that was the guy from earlier." Replies Shepard. "He could've killed you."

"Sorry commander." She replies. "I just.. reacted."

"I'm not the one you should apologize to," he says. He looks to me, and extends his hand, looking around at the dead or moaning thugs. "Looks like I owe you one, friend. Commander Matthias Shepard."

"Cory Weston." I say as I shake his hand. "And this is.. I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't catch your name?" I ask the Quarian girl standing there sheepishly.

"Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya." As they discuss the reason for the fight, I look at the others. Ashley looks pissed off, with Kaiden and Garrus looking nervous standing next to her. Wrex looks jaded to the whole mess, casually slamming his foot into the head of the now-stirring Krogan.

"And what about you?" I hear addressed to me.

"Hmm?" I answer eloquently." What about me?"

"He saved me here, Commander." Tali interjects. "He can fight, obviously."

"Well, Cory?" Shepard asks me, and I seriously consider it one last time.

"I know that something is going down here Shepard," I respond. "And I'd like to see it through, now that I'm involved."

"Okay." He answers, then speaks to the group at large. "Let's go make Udina's day." The little troupe falls out, and I walk alongside Wrex at the back, coming to a silent understanding. I'm surprised when Tali starts walking alongside me too.

"Thank you," She says. "Most wouldn't have stuck their neck out for a Quarian once, let alone twice."

"You'll find that I'm not like most people." I answer with a smirk.

A/N: Alright, that'll do it for now. I'll have more up soon, but this one was running a bit long. As always, let me know what you think, and let me know if I've misspelled something or missed something in the plot on accident.