Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Mass Effect, Toshiba, or Ubisoft.

A/N: Here again. Remember, be good to those you care about. You may not always have them.

Normandy SR-1

February 18th, 2183. 3 A.M.

The world is hardly ever simple. Situations are never black and white. That kid who went crazy, killed his dad? Beaten every day of his life. The man going to church, loving his family? A ruthless drug pusher and trafficker. So when I set a sleeping girl to bed, an exhausted Shepard awaits me with a cup of coffee, asking me more about myself.

"I'm not sure how much I can tell you," I evade, sitting down in the empty mess hall. "I told you the first twelve times."

"Well, start from the start," He persists, pushing the cup towards me.

"Okay," I relent. "But this stays between us, Shepard. Anything I tell you, you take to your grave unless I say otherwise."

"That secret?"

"Just personal. you wanna know how I tick, and why. I'll tell you, but it-" I stop short at the sight of a (Currently) purple menace peeking around the corner. "It's rude to eavesdrop. Shouldn't you be passed out?" There's no accusation in my voice though, and I motion for her to come forward.

" ...Was just coming up for something to drink." She half-says, not really convincing anyone in her tired state. "I was asleep, and having an amusing dream, when I woke up in the arms of a limping suit of armor. So you should only blame yourself."

"Yeah, I'll blame myself for you poking into my business."

"As you should." she plops herself at the table, not getting any actual sort of drink.

"...Fine. But shush." I look back to Shepard, who looks utterly confused. "What?"

"Nothing." He mutters, leaning into his chair and flicking on his Omni-Tool. "Whenever you're ready."

"My name is Cory Weston, born... Under another name, in Detroit, Michigan. I lived a fairly solitary life, and when I was a teenager, I was taken by some human extremist group. They interrogated me."

"About?" Shepard interjects.

"Something that had happened in Tokyo."

"Care to share?"

"It'll only incriminate a friend. Suffice to say, I behaved in a way that caught their interest."

"Okay, go on." It continues this way for a while, explaining in detail the experiments, tests, and the implants.

"The Phoenix Nanite Breeder," I explain. "Is the biggest reason I'm still alive to this day. nestled into my chest cavity, it constantly produces and regulates microscopic insect-like drones that circulate in my bloodstream, repairing damage at a rate comparable to a Krogan, or Vorcha, to a certain degree."

"Keelah," Tali breathes, speaking up for the first time in several minutes.

"The way they function is a mystery to me," I continue. "But I know that they're taking their toll." I look down for a moment. "They're slowly killing me, I found out." The surprise is evident, more so in the person who didn't know that part. "Mutating my DNA structure, causing damage as they go to the point that without them, I would die. They can't be removed, not without putting me into a coma that I wouldn't be able to wake up from."

"God..." Shepard sighs.

"It causes a lot of pain, so much so that most wouldn't be able to function. Another implant, however, regulates my nerves to the point that I can't feel pain like I should. Other things to improve reflex, reaction times, probability calculation, they make me what I am."

"So the way you fight..." Shepard begins.

"I'm not some sort of badass, or anything of the like. But I know exactly what I'm capable of, and am able to move in a way that leaves no room for counter-attack."

"A fine line to walk. One mistake, and it's over."

"Good thing I don't make mistakes in those situations. Haven't yet, in any case."

"You know, it kinda classifies you as a badass. From a technical standpoint." I laugh, continuing the story. As I speak, I relive the entire mess... The escape, Omega, Aroch Ward, months of travel and work, not taking pause. Was I trying to forget? Bury it? Or just run away? Didn't work, in any case.

"It helped at any rate, to go into an auto-state, not really thinking. Gave me time to adjust without completely snapping. It also let my credit account to build up."

"Oh?" Shepard asks, smirking.

"Yeah, didn't spend much. I ended up investing in a nice little music company in April. It went pretty well."

"April," Shepard mutters, before snapping to attention. "New World Industries. Bullshit."

"Afraid not." I chuckle.

"You own New World Industries?"

"For the most part. I'll keep some tickets open for you. Anyone you want to see."

"Well shit, if I had known this, I would've given you my cabin." He jokes.

"I could do you one better. Face-to-face with any of them."

"Any of them? Mathers included?" I laugh full out at this.

"I might be able to, Why? You a fan?" I say, still grinning. Shepard seems a bit defensive.

"His music is impressive. Inspiring even." Tali speaks up. 'Thought she fell asleep'. "Giving people something to relate to. It helps people."

"Yeah, that was the idea when we started this stuff up." I say, uncomfortable. More like I was pressured into it.

"Well then," Shepard starts. "I'll make sure you get a good bonus at the end of this mess."

"Not necessary, but I appreciate the thought." I look over to the yawning Quarian, and she nods slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going to bed." She gets up slowly, but Shepard stops her.

"Actually, I'd like a word Tali. Sorry." He says. She mumbles a bit, but sits back down.

"I think I'll leave you two to it." I mention as I start to get up and head for the elevator. "I've got something I need to check on anyways." With that, I leave them to their business.

(Shepard)

"So, what do you need?" Tali asks me, concern showing through.

"Nothing bad," I assure her. "Wondering how you were doing, for one. You seemed a bit shook up earlier."

"It was a shaky experience." She mutters. No denying that. "But I'm alright. You don't need to be concerned."

"I'm the commander of this little group of dysfunctionals," I chuckle. "Concern for your people comes with the job. Plus, I respect everyone on this ship. I'd like to think I'm not too harsh on the commanding part."

"No need to worry about that." She says, before looking up at me. "Uh, sorry." I just laugh.

"It's fine. I'm not the best at giving stuffy orders. But something else I wanted to ask."

"Okay, What?"

"Well, I figured, now that you have your Pilgrimage gift, were you planning on leaving?" I ask apprehensively. She looks as though I just insulted her.

"Of course not!" She says adamantly. "I joined to help with this. After everything everyone has done for me, it's the least I can do."

"Good, good." I say relief evident. "You won't miss the party then."

"Party?" Now it's her turn to be apprehensive.

"Yeah. Your pilgrimage is a coming of age kind of thing, right?" She nods. "Well, it's customary to throw a party in celebration of that."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea.." She mutters. "It seems like a lot of work."

"Nonsense," I assure her. "I've already spoken to a couple of people, and they're excited to do it."

"Well..." She still seems unsure.

"Trust me Tali, it'll be fun."

"Okay, but nothing major." She says uneasily.

"Trust me." I repeat, before continuing. "So, I need to ask you a question."

"Okay, go ahead." 'I have got to stop getting involved in these sorts of things' I think to myself with a smile.

"Cory." I start. She continues to stare quizzically. "Do you like him?"

"Like him?" She repeats. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Well," I say, trying my best to not grin. " You two spend a fair amount of time together, and you seem like you'd be a cute couple." I finish, a smile breaking through on my face.

"W-.. What are you talking about?!" She asks, flustered so bad that I know she's thought about this before.

"Well, judging by that reaction, You know what I'm talking about."

"I assure you, I-I don't." Oh no you don't.

"Well," I start. "I just thought I should mention something, all things considered."

"Things?" She asks uncomfortably, but curiosity laced in. Just as planned.

"Well, it's faint, but you can tell that he's been through a lot in a short amount of time." I say, and Tali nods surprisingly. "He's lost people he cares about, and doesn't want that to happen ever again. So he shuts people out. But, you've wormed past that."

"I have?"

"You have. I think he'd do just about anything for you." She seems surprised at this.

"He says that I remind him of someone he used to know."

"All the more reason he doesn't want to get to the point that losing you would crush him." I explain. "But, were someone to want to get past that mental barrier and be with him, they'd have push past that mental barrier. Theoretically." I finish.

"You've put a lot of thought into this, Shepard." She says in an accusatory manner.

"I deny everything."

(Tali)

"Madness. Utter madness. I mean, he's kind, and not that bad to look at, from an aesthetic point, but- Dammit! The only reason I'm thinking like this is because of that Bosh'tet."

"Tali?" I freeze, before looking back at the Asari scientist behind me. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine." I mutter.

"You sure? 'Cos you're muttering outside of your room in the middle of the night." Ulp.

"It's... Don't worry about it. I'm just headed to bed."

"Well.. Goodnight." She says uncertainly. I walk into the room only to find Cory shirtless... Dammit Shepard. He catches me staring, probably the worst thing I could do given the circumstance.

"It looks worse than it is." He mentions, gesturing to the acid burns along his right shoulder and side that took me a moment to register.

"Keelah, why didn't you go to Doctor Chakwas?" He waves the statement off.

"I'm fine. I needed sleep more than her fussing." He's busy smearing a greenish gel across the marks as he speaks, and I look at the arm applying it. Strange glyphs adorn his arm, seemingly apart of his skin.

"what are those?" I inquire, gesturing to his arm. It takes hims a moment to understand before he realizes.

"Oh, tattoos." He explains. "Art immerssed into the skin, usually by ink. I take it that it's not popular on the Migrant Fleet?"

"I guess not," I shrug. "I've heard of that sort of thing, but it's not an appealing option for Quarians. Besides the inherent infection risk, our skin has become sensitized from living in our suits for so long. Something like that would cause irritation." He seems to process this for a moment, before nodding.

"Well, it's often used as a means of expression. Mine? The sleeve along my arm is mostly lines coming together to form patterns. The top 313 is just a nod to home."

"Home?"

"Yeah. For me, Detroit will always be my home." He turns toward me, and I see additional marks along his left side. I take a seat on my bed before he continues. "The text along my chest is a prayer for peace for the fallen, and a promise to protect the ones I love." He looks down a moment, but shakes off whatever emotion struck him. "Well, it's more personal than that, but I don't really want to get into it. The one up here," He leans forward a bit, showing part of his shoulder blade, "Is a cross with a crown and snake. That part I'll explain some other time." He finishes applying the sharp-smelling chemical, and relaxes back onto his bed. I suppress my curiosity and do the same, trying to actually stay down this time. The silence is abrupt, but I'm so tired that I welcome it.

(Cory)

Darkness. Their screams. Over and over again I hear them in pain, pain you caused. How much blood will coat your hands before it ends? Before they end you? Before my memory drives you to your death?

Quiet. I open my eyes slowly, but there's only the sounds of murmuring and Metallica. Every muscle aches, and try as I might to stretch them, it's no use. I switch off my Omni-Tool. Better start the day.

The trip to the cargo bay feels shorter than usual, and I step out, I feel eyes on me.

"Cory." Garrus greets me, looking at my burns, turned grayish by the gel. "Are you okay? And where's your shirt?"

"You wear a shirt when you plan on working out?" I ask him.

"Well, yeah, actually." He chuckles. "But Turians are a bit bony to look at. You sure you won't get the Chief in a frazzle?" Said Chief rolls her eyes and goes back to her bench.

"I did it for you Garrus." I deadpan.

"Hmm." He looks me over. "Nah, too rugged. Potential mates have to have fewer scars than a Krogan warlord. You look like you've been fed to a Varren pack. Twice."

"The ladies love the scars though, Garrus. You'll see." He chuckles.

"I hope not to see. Getting scarred up isn't in the plan." But it's in the cards, my boy.

"Well, I wish you luck in that." I say walking over to my set of crates, glancing at the gear strewn about. Hmm.

"Working out, huh?" I look up at the grinning Turian, and rub the back of my head.

"It was the original plan." I mutter. "I got caught up." I gesture to the holo-display.

"Another shotgun?" He inquires.

"Reworking a design," I say, moving parts around on the display. "More power, sacrificing a shot. When I'm done, it'll will carve through a Geth unit like a hatchet through flesh."

"Nice description."

"Accurate. Anyways, I'm adding a manual sink-cycling system; it wont be semi-automatic, but it'll be stable enough to fire in any situation."

"Why aren't you designing guns somewhere on the Citadel?" Garrus asks as I move the complex array of parts around into a working order.

"Because most of the 'Making the design function' bit is thanks to someone else. Good guy, likes long walks over the corpses of his foes." Garrus looks lost on this statement. "Nevermind that part." I mention, and he nods.

"Good plan. Now put a damn shirt on."

"You know you love it."

It's over an hour later that I finish the redesign, torn under-armor on to appease Garrus. Two more hours, and everything is put in place in the actual shotgun. Shepard comes out of engineering to find me pointing a shotgun at him. "Oh hey Shep." I greet him, lowering it. "Just tinkering here."

"I see," He says, not really seeing. "Improvements?" I nod.

"Just gotta finish the engraving, but that can wait."

"Engraving?"

"Yessir. Gotta get it looking just right."

"Any particular reason?" He says, eyebrow raised.

"You'll see." I answer vaguely. As the light sound of rubberized footsteps pick up, I wave my hand over the design, and it shifts to the disassembly of a P90. Shepard looks confused before picking up on the sound himself.

"Tali. You ready?" He asks her, and she nods.

"Ready for what?" I inquire.

"Garrus asked me to look into this Salarian doctor that evaded custody a while back. Real sick bastard. We've found his ship, but it looks dead in the water. Us three are the boarding party." I nod.

"Need another?"

"There wont be room for a huge suit of armor." I point to it.

"Not like I can wear it, in the condition it's in. I'll use my quiet gear." He shrugs.

"Up to you." I nod, and he turns to Tali. "Looks like you get to watch the monitors like you wanted." And I glance at her.

"You wanted to watch monitors?" I ask, and she twitches uncomfortably, but Shepard swoops in.

"Actually, she got the idea of having someone monitoring our vitals and watching our technique. It's an interesting learning tool." I consider this.

"That's not a bad idea, actually." I admit. "So you'll see what we do through the suit cams?" She nods.

"Seeing it through everyone's eyes will give me a better grasp on what I should behave like in the field."

I guess so. "Well, let's bring Liara along then." They look at me. "You'll see the reaction of someone less experienced, and the difference will be telling." Shepard frowns at this.

"Isn't that using her?"

"Well, Biotic support would be handy," I reason. "And she needs all the experience she can get."

"I'll let her know." Shepard agrees after a moment of consideration. "Ready up."

(Tali)

"Docking complete. Commander, whenever you're ready." Moraeu says, his usual demeanor quieted in the face of a serious team. Shepard nods a moment, and the team moves as one through the airlock. In a moment, they clear the other door, and enter the ship.

"Docking area clear. Moving." Shepard says via comms. As they approach the door to the main cargo area, I look over the vitals, and Cory has a point. Where Liara's heartbeat is picking up with every step towards the unknown, Shepard is rock steady. Garrus' is up, but that was anger and vengeance brewing inside of him. And Cory... Barely anything. His heartbeat is almost at resting. Eerie. "Breach."

They move in like a wave, but recoil a bit and some unknown source. "Extreme odor coming from the area. Rot, and waste." He moves to continue, but is stopped within a few steps by a noise. They watch as a shuffling sound comes around the corner, and the sight of what comes around is enough to paralyze me with horror.

"What in the hell.." A human male, Three eyes where there should be two. Disgusting lumps and disfigurements barely covered by a patient gown. His skin nearly translucent and stretching over him, barely fitting. I turn away from the sight, instead looking at the vital monitors. Shock is evident across the team, Liara in a near panic state, Shepard's heartrate spiking upward along with Garrus', and Cory-

A flutter. A moment of surprise, buried under that controlled calm. "Please..." My attention snaps back to the monitor as the man starts to speak. Out of everyone, Cory once again acts out of place, putting a hand on his pistol where everyone else lowered their weapons. "PLEASE!" The.. He, rushes them, and everyone else is frozen as a pistol comes up on camera 4, The resulting round entering the man's head in a neat hole and leaving in an ugly spray of blood and bits of skull. It's holstered as soon as it came out, replaced by a P90 as another nightmare rounds the corner, an Asari, turned into a sick experiment. Garrus and Shepard raise their rifles unsteadily as several more people come out from behind the crates.

"Please.." The chant starts, and the simple click of Cory's P90 from safety to auto is enough to send the mob screaming at them. A simple "Fire." From Cory forces the other two into action to save themselves from the mob. It only takes a moment of fire, and there's only a mass of still twitching bodies at their feet. He goes from one to the other, leveling his weapon at their heads, and pulling the trigger. A swapping of magazines, and he's looking towards the closed doors on one side. A retching sound comes from behind, and he turns to see Liara shaking from her place by the wall.

"Why... Why would they come at us like that?" She stutters, on the verge of collapse.

"There are fates far worse than death." Shepard mutters, moving to keep her from falling. "Garrus, Echo... Do what you have to."

"Leaving it to us then?" The question goes unanswered, and Shepard makes his way back to the Normandy, Liara in tow. He greets me in person a minute later when the airlock cycles.

"Tali"

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Hard to say." He grunts. "I'm taking Liara to the Med-Bay. I hate to ask it, but can you go in there? I want somebody there to make sure nothing creeps up on those two. It's awful to ask, but.."

"I got it Shepard." I say confidently, Or as confidently as I can while trying not to beg him no. He nods, and I head into the airlock as he heads down the hall.

As it opens, I have to kill my sensors to not be overwhelmed at the smell. 'Death, it reeks of death.' I hear raised voices coming from the front of the ship, and hustle towards them. I only stop when I see... The Massacre. The bodies strewn about on the deck, in person, makes me want to vomit. The blood, the disfigured bodies.. I'm not sure how long I stare before coming to my senses and moving. The door the the medical area is open and I stop in the doorway, frozen as Cory Forces Dr. Hart to his knees.

He looks into the man's eyes as he draws and readies his pistol in one fluid motion, pausing only a moment to look at his own reflection, mirrored in the eyes of the man he's about to execute.

He pulls the trigger. A flash, and the Salarian crumples to the ground.

Post-Note: I don't have any excuses for you guys and gals. Maybe I'm just not properly motivated like I used to be. In any case, thanks for reading.