Ch. 2

Ashley was at her workbench, cleaning the rifles used by the ground team. Having scrubbed away the sediments from the coils on each weapon, her eyes wandered up, looking around the hold of the Normandy. Only a dozen hours had passed from Eden Prime, and her transfer to the ship was official. Her duties as the team's gunsmith weren't particularly taxing, and she had quite a bit of free time. Now was such free time, as the weapons were folded and stowed in their respective lockers. Looking back, she focused on the machine and the tall man in the corner of the hold. The bulk of the mech was now clear in the bright lighting of the deck, it's massive silhouette crouched, barely fitting underneath the ceiling. Between the legs of the metal beast, cross legged, sat the man they found. His girth wasn't visible, as he hunched over a disassembled piece of equipment. It looked to be a rifle, though it lacked any elements that Williams could recognize. No heat sinks, no ammo block to source the grain-sized bullets most weapons fired. No rail to launch them from. Only a stock and a pistol grip were discernable, and Ashley's mind was going into overdrive, trying and failing to come up with a logical purpose of the object. This situation lasted for a minute, only the faint clicks of metal on metal as Seven assembled his rifle. Only when he was done and slid a magazine into it's place did it occur the Gunnery Chief: the weapon used 'normal' bullets, with metal casings filled with propellant. It confused her to no end, why would a person with such advanced gear use chemical weapons? Why, when mass accelerator armaments were the galactic standard? She had many questions on her mind now, most directed to the man sitting on the floor like a child playing with toys. Though he, unlike a toddler, was in full combat gear. She would've gone ahead and asked him, if Shepard didn't walk in from the elevator. Obviously in a sour mood, the commander went to her locker and, with a ferocity usually unseen, took out her gear and slammed it on the table. Ashley was wise enough to step aside from a pissed off CO, however Seven perked up at the sound. He slowly stood up, walking the width of the deck with nary a sound. Only a tap on Ashley's shoulder alerted her to his presence. With a quiet yelp, the marine spun around, coming face to armored chest. Seven tilted his helmeted head in silent question, pointing to the commander. The only response that could be given was a shrug. To that, Seven had an answer of his own: he went to the woman to ask her himself. As with Williams, Shepard was unaware of him standing over her shoulder until he tapped it. Her reaction was far more aggressive than the marine had: a growl was heard as Jane tried to backhand him away. She was in for nasty surprise, as her bare hand smacked right into the titanium chest piece and the pouches, holsters, and containers that were on it. Hissing from pain, all Jane could do was turn to face Seven, massaging her aching hand.

"What?" annoyance was clear in her voice, as her eyes bore into the emotionless visor that covered Seven's face. He did not answer, merely pointing to the armor splayed on the workbench, with a tilt of his head.

With a puzzled look, Shepard stepped back, a quiet 'go ahead', not much more than a whisper. Seven raised his hands over the table, his movements slow, measured. Tracing the plates of the armor, the shape saved in the data banks in his head, burned into his brain.

And then he started.

His arms, sparking with energy, went up. So did the hardsuit.

The armor stretched, as if a body was inside. The plates floated off their mounts, hovering in place. Screw became undone, frozen in the air. Grime and dust came off, swirling down, forming into neat piles. Cavities and dents in the armor were mended, metal flowing like mercury, filling in all defects of the hardsuit's plates. When Seven let his hand down to his sides, the armor left looking brand new. And Shepard and Ashley gawking.

"Oh." were all the words the two of them could muster as with a quiet huff Seven turned back, sitting back under his robot.

Out of curiosity, Jane followed, and Ashley, emboldened by this, did so as well.

Seven was taking apart a different weapon, this one blocky, with a thick cylinder for a barrel. Yet again he sat like a preschooler, on the floor beneath the metal giant. As Shepard stood over him, he looked up as a child to an adult. A grin was now on Shepard's face, her bad mood all but forgotten. Her hand extended, a friendly gesture if he had ever seen one.

His mind raced through all the different implications of it. It was Avei in his mind that slowly explained the matter to him, as if, yet again, he was a child. With a small tinge of hope in his mind, he got up and looked into Jane's eyes. In them, he saw a small promise of a life not full of abuse and tests.

So, however reluctantly he followed that hope, he followed Shepard too.

Alenko was sitting at a table in the mess of the Normandy, shoveling food into his mouth. The deployment on Eden Prime, while not overly taxing, required him to use his biotics a lot. Being one, his metabolism was much faster, forcing him to eat much more than a normal human. During the over a dozen hours since then, he'd already eaten lunch twice.

It wasn't unexpected for him then, when Shepard, a biotic herself, finally joined him at the table, a similarly sized MRE before her. Next to him, Ashley sat down with a meal of her own, steam rising from it. With his mouth full, all he did was grunt in greeting. He went back to his food, eager to finish his meal. A heavy thud shook the floor as he did, making him jump, if only a little. There, besides his commander, sat Seven, looking around the mess. The table before him was empty, his hands flat on it's surface. Even while he sat, his heavy build made him stand out. He towered over them still, his head good 10 centimeters over Kaiden's, leaving Williams and Shepard dwarfed with their more slender physique. Any crew passing the table. As Jane opened her own MRE, she tilted he head in question at the man.

"You eatin' anything?"

"Negative." he answered, head still scanning the room.

"You don't eat?" confusion was apparent as both marines at the table stared into the grey visor covering Seven's face. For a moment, he sat there, his head tilted as if he was listening to something. He straightened, moving his left hand, palm up, on which the violet hologram of Avei appeared. Of course, nobody present expected that, and Kaiden started choking on his broccoli with Ashley trying to help him, and Jane spilled some of her coffee on her plate.

"He doesn't need to. Though he should try." the AI said when Kaiden finally stopped choking. "But he's a stubborn idiot and refuses to- Oi!" the shout came out when Seven clenched his fist around the small hologram, it shimmering off.

"Commander. Are there any power outlets onboard?" having given up on saving the remains of her meal from the coffee spillage, she answered after a bit of thought.

"Yeah. Around here and in the hold. Why'd you need one though?"

All Adam could bring himself to do was a small shrug.

"Permission to get back into the hold, ma'am?"

"Yeah, sure. Kaiden, don't choke on your greens again."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am." sarcasm was clear in the man's tone.

Standing in the slow-descending elevator, Avei was chattering away inside his head. I detect sarcasm… You should've chuckled at least. That was one of the best jokes I've made in a while. She kept up this one-way chit-chat until they made it to the engineering deck. Adam moved after Shepard, who waved him over, pointing to a small slot near the workbench. It was round, almost unnoticeable, flush with the wall. Seven touched the circle, it popping open with an audible click. Avei meanwhile, steeled herself for the inevitable sensory overload that she'd feel in the man's head.

"So, what do ya need it for?" Shepard's question fell on deaf ears as Seven began phasing out the armor on his left hand and forearm. He had tried charging with it still on, and it left the plates singed and blackened. Now, as the armored gauntlet was off, he unsealed the techsuit that was beneath it. In a cloud of blue pixels the skin-tight layer dematerialized, leaving his left forearm exposed to the air in the first time in years. Or, at least, what substituted for his arm.

"What kind of prosthetic is that?" Jane's curiosity was now piqued, as she, despite the imposing figure attached to the arm, moved closer to see the metal hand in detail. And what she saw reignited that small fear in the back of her mind. Because what she was seeing was beyond common sense. The hand was covered in small plates, them acting as a kind of primitive 'skin' of it. It had multiple ports and sockets. Out of one, a small chip popped out with a click, which Seven pocketed. He turned to the power socket in the wall. He put his hand up to it, a cable snaking out of the metal wrist. It clicked into the plug, with the insides of the prosthetic glowing a vibrant blue. Seven however, had stiffened, with only the hand connected to the wall twitching. Unknown to Jane, he was still only thanks to the armor lock of his suit, otherwise he'd be thrashing around in pain he had not felt in a long time. For all the time he had been the machine of war that he was turned into, any nutrients he needed he got from IVs that went into the cybernetic spine in his back. This sort of charging, through his hand, was painful on purpose, as his creators wanted to make him dependent. On them, or their logistics, to provide him the nutrition packets that he could use. He never tried eating since, and now, Adam didn't know if he could even eat anymore.

That was not on his mind now though, as pure energy coursed through his being, burning in his veins. At least, that was how he felt. For Avei, stuck in the chip in his pocket, which left her only the readings of his armor, he was completely fine. She knew that was not the case, though. Putting a stop to this was her priority, lest Adam fry his brain from the sensory overload.

"Shepard!" her voice rang out, the small chip straining to let her speak this loud. "DISCONNECT HIM! NOW!"

Jane froze, before she charged at the armored man, trying to tackle him to the ground. As he was five times her weight, her attempt was all for nought. So, stepping back a good couple meters, she thrust her arms forward, alight with the glow of biotics. Seven was caught in a corona of blue fire, and thrown away from the wall with a biotic pull.

"Get me plugged in! Quick!" Jane fumbled around, following the voice of the AI. She found the small metal slate, a glowing crystal stuck inside. She lifted it to her eyes. It pulsed with light in time with Avei's words.

"The slot in his prosthetic! Plug me in dammit!"

Shepard obliged, slotting the AI casing into the socket left for it in Seven's metal arm. She sat there, on the floor of the cargo deck, over the limp soldier, waiting for something to happen. She was going to make her rounds and get to know some of the crew. It seemed, however, that the two AIs onboard had different plans.

"Commander Shepard." Looks like the big robot woke up. "My Pilot's vitals went flatline multiple times during the charge attempt. Requesting he be moved to the medbay immediately."

"Yes, I was about to ask you, commander. He's convinced himself that he's fine. He never was. At least since I know him. He could use someone caring about him for once. Can you get him to Doctor Chakwas?" After a second in silent thought, Jane nodded, standing up.

"You reckon I can carry him there?" a small chuckle was heard as a tiny version of Avei projected herself out of Seven's left hand.

"Wouldn't count on it. He's around five times your weight while in armor. When I get him out of it though, you might just be able to help him walk there."

Clapping her hands, Avei vanished, and all the armor, pouches and gear that was on the man slowly crumbled into those blue pixels, with him left bare-faced, only in his techsuit, short of his left forearm, as it was already phased out. With a confirmation from both constructs, that yes, she could move Seven, Shepard tried to pull his arm over her shoulder and get him up. Despite her repeated attempts, she could only get him to sit. Anything beyond was out of her ability. That's when she facepalmed herself for forgetting biotics. Figuring she'd help however, she called Alenko down to contribute his own powers to the task.

With the lieutenant's assistance, getting Seven to the sickbay was a non-issue, the combined strength of mass effect fields enough to keep him suspended in the air while they made their way to Chakwas' workplace.

The good doctor met them at the door, already leading them to a cot ready to hold Seven for the second time in the last couple hours. Having set him down, Alenko left for his shift in the sleeper pods, with Chakwas shooing Shepard away after she stayed in place, wanting to see what was up with the tall soldier. With a quiet sigh, the medical officer activated her omni.

"Now, how are we feeling, dear?"

Jane stood before the door of Anderson's cabin, waiting to be let in. The captain called for her to come some time after the incident with Seven in the cargo deck. The door opened, letting her in. To her surprise, Chakwas was also there, scrolling on a datapad, a frown on her face. Focused on the device, she didn't notice the N7 coming in, only Anderson speaking getting her attention.

"Good to see you, Shepard." a respectful nod from Jane was her reply, as the captain continued "Computer, lock the door. Disable any recording and surveillance in this room. Authorization: Bravo-Tango-Seven-Two-Seven-Four-Bravo-Three-One-Two."

The lock on the door turned red, as the commander locked eyes with Chakwas: this was something interesting.

"Now. Doctor, if you could." Chakwas let out a short huff, looking at the datapad in her hands. At last, she spoke.

"As you know, Shepard, I've done a checkup on… Seven? That's how he said he's called?" after a nod of confirmation from Jane, she continued "Well, he's… A special case, you can say. First off, he's half machine. Literally. His entire lower body is cybernetic. I couldn't get much with my omnitool. As if his body was acting as a jammer From what the medbay scanners could gather, however, many organs are straight up missing. His kidneys are gone, bowels are almost non-existent, he has no liver, reproductive organs are gone too… All his bones, those left, that is, are mostly metal and ceramic. The spine is… I'll just show you."

The doctor flicked at her datapad, the holo-display at Anderson's desk going alight. What it showed was a holo-vid from Chakwas' examination of Seven. The camera circled the man as he stood there in nought but the undersuit of his armor. From the recording, his rough voice could be heard as he responded to the doctor's questions. When Chakwas asked if he could get out of the undersuit, he looked her straight in the eye. The lifeless look of his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Jane. To her, it looked like Seven had gone through some shit. Possibly more than her.

"Affirmative." he responded, and the hiss of the unsealing suit signaled that he complied without complaint. He slid it off with practiced ease. What was underneath that suit sent bile up her throat. He was covered in scars, head to… chest it seemed, since his legs and lower abdomen were navy blue, just as his left forearm. They, unlike the arm, were smoother, looking closer to normal skin turned metal. A rough line of scar tissue separated the metal and flesh below his ribs. The camera froze in place, with silence permeating for the next 10 or so seconds. The next sound they heard was the shaky voice of Chakwas as she asked Seven to turn around. He complied. And Jane felt bile in her throat again, trying with all her will to not vomit. The doctor paused the film, giving both Shepard and Anderson a good look at what was done to the man that sat in the medbay still.

"What… Who… did this to him? How?" the shakiness of Jane's voice didn't escape her, as she looked on with a mixture of horror and pity for Seven. For now she saw: along his back, a line of metal. In place of his spine, jutting out of his skin, going into the base of his skull. It looked like his entire spine was ripped out and replaced. What kind of sick bastard did this to people? The answer was beyond her understanding. As Anderson conversed with Chakwas, Jane kept looking at the orange tinted image. It was seared into her memory, right alongside the vision.

It kept her awake for most of the night.

As they docked with the Citadel, both Anderson and Shepard stood before the airlock of the Normandy. They were called to the Presidium by Ambassador Udina, presumably to explain the fuckup on Eden Prime. While they dealt with galactic politics, the ship was meant to restock on supplies, and the crew was to have a few days of shore leave. The resupply of the ship was complicated by the fact that a giant mech of unknown origin and design was inside it's hold. To remedy this issue, Cray was covered by a tarp, while the dock workers were instructed to keep away while the crew loaded the supplies.

Seven, meanwhile, was getting ready for a goal of his own. After the attempt at charging made his brain short-circuit, and restart the shackles installed in his system.

'Uphold directive' rang through his mind, as he readied himself to do so.

With the knowledge implanted into his mind came the list of names. He didn't know why, but he knew they'd be important somehow. One was on the top of that list. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. A Quarian, according to Avei and Cray after their Extranet search. He did know why she'd be important or needed, but the directive was to go out into the Citadel and locate her.

The Operating System changed his directive: protect target and gather intelligence.

So, he got ready for non-lethal CQC, guessing he'd be fighting in an alley or a building. Dead targets could not provide intel, after all.

This was a giant station, so he didn't bring firestars or satchels. Both grenadier and anti-titan weapons were also out of the question, as to not blow a hole in the station's hull. Additionally, he only took a handful of arc grenades. They could fry power grids of small settlements, afterall. Not that he couldn't use any of that, with his hammerspace and phase resupply modules. So, he phased in a R-97, screwing a silencer on, sliding a magazine filled with Arc Rounds into place. It would serve as his main weapon for today, with multiple sidearms and knives if things got serious. He slid his P2016 and a Mozambique, both with silencers, into their holsters, the semi-auto pistol on his right thigh, and the three barreled energy shotgun pistol (the number of adjectives was one of the few things to get a chuckle out of him) in a cross draw holster on the left hip. The Hammond P2016 he loaded with live ammunition, while the Mozambique was left switched to non-lethal. He didn't take his pick, instead attaching a foldable stun baton in it's place. The last new toy he took were the self-made stun grenades, an amalgamation of classic magnesium flashbangs and Arc grenades, which left the target blinded, deafened, and convulsing on the floor. One effect he didn't foresee was that Arc energy seemed to overload this universe's weapons pretty reliably. A systems check, courtesy of Avei, told him that all his Armor Modules and Pilot Tacticals were online, completing his arsenal befit of the killing machine he was.

After Jane and the captain, tailed by Alenko and Williams left for the Ambassador's office, Seven activated his Active Camouflage unit, the cloaking units salvaged from the Covenant, ONI and both the IMC and Militia worked in unison, rendering him nigh undetectable. He was invisible, any sound he made was muted, infrared was useless against him, sonar and LIDAR couldn't see him either. He was a ghost, heard by none, and seen by no one but his target. And his target: Fisk in Chora's Den.

Shepard walked out of the council chamber fuming, with both marines from the Normandy trotting behind her. Anderson left with Udina, and she was now left with nothing but the Council's words echoing in her head:

"And what proof do you have?"

It angered her more than she thought it would, the denial of politicians and their willingness to uphold the status quo of the galaxy at any cost. What did not anger her, fortunately, was the presence of the C-Sec officer next to her: Garrus Vakarian, the Turian responsible for the investigation of Saren. He was, much to his dismay, shut down by his superior, Executor Palin, and stuck watching Saren get off scot-free.

Now, his blue-painted face was looking over his omni, reading a message.

"Shepard. There's this thing I think you might wanna know. I got a call from Doctor Michelle, she runs a clinic on one of the wards. She had a Quarian visit the clinic, gunshot wound to the leg. Female, lavender suit, purple tinted mask. She says the Quarian was babbling something about Saren and the Geth, and was asking about Fisk and Chora's Den." He looked up, his clan markings reflecting the light coming in through the windows of the Council Tower.

"Now, about Fisk… He called C-Sec about half an hour ago, mumbling something about a mech that walked into his office invisible. He might know something about this Quarian."

Jane was about to nod and answer that, yes, they should, in fact go pay Fisk a visit. She didn't, instead a flash of her omnitool told her someone was calling her. An unknown contact. She accepted the call, and was surprised to hear Seven's AI voice coming from the device.

"Commander. Good news. We've had a small talk with Fisk. We know where the Quarian will be. We'll secure her and bring her to the Presidium."

The entire group froze, Jane glaring at her omni. "You mean you're off the ship? And you didn't even think to get Fisk to tell you who he works for?!"

After a couple of seconds, they all heard Seven's harsh voice answer, in-between quiet breaths.

"Commander, I was not made for intelligence gathering."

"Yeah, yeah. Fine." looking up at Garrus, Jane raised her brow in question "Maybe we'll go ahead and meet Fisk for ourselves?"

With a flare of his mandibles, Garrus responded:

"Wouldn't wish for anything else, Shepard."

Seven was making his way to the alleyway that Fisk specified. With Avei's help, he had no trouble navigating the steel and glass jungle of the 13 million space station turned city. Thanks to his camo unit, he could bring his arsenal to bear without annoyances in the form of C-Sec border control. He flew through the Citadel, his jump kit propelling him along walls and over rooftops. He was close to his target, according to what Fisk told him when he spilled his guts. Adam was, thanks to his appearance and lack of empathy, a great interrogator, so Fisk was left shaking on the floor when he cloaked and left to uphold his Protocol 2: Uphold Directive. He was now on a roof, the supposed meetup point below him. Letting his cloak recharge, he sat down cross legged behind a cooling unit, leaving Avei to notify him when the sensors he dropped into the alley were tripped. He sat there, still as a statue, for fifteen minutes, waiting in silence. When Avei told him that the Quarian had finally shown up, he stood up in one smooth motion. Normally, he would've silently shot all three thugs from behind without warning. This time, however, intimidation was in order. So, he shut off his jump kit, dimmed the lenses of his helmet, and activating his cloak, dropped into the aisle.

Tali had her reservations about contacting Fisk, but it was her only shot to get to safety. So, she walked into the dimly-lit alleyway, wincing as the wound in her leg stung with pain. There, in the back of the alley, she saw a Turian with a Salarian behind him, both leaning on the wall. Noticing her, they both approached, stopping halfway.

"Hey there. You alone, beautiful?" the Turian spoke first as she slowly limped closer, his hand already on her shoulder. She did not like where this was going.

"Hands off." she said with as hard of a tone as she could muster, slapping the claw off her shoulder "Where is the Shadow Broker? They were supposed to meet me."

The Turian shook his head, his hand now going along her back, nudging her along to a doorway further in the back. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed another Salarian, hand on pistol, closing off the entrance to the small space. This was a trap. With the realization, a light shudder ran through her arms. At this, the thug pushing her along chuckled.

"What is it? Scared of somethi-" he didn't finish the sentence as a loud, metallic thud reverberated through the gap between buildings. She was harshly shoved aside, with all three thugs drawing their pistols, aiming down the alley. She sat there, under a metal wall, wounded, looking on as the three moved up to the source of the sound. Further down, in the shadows, something moved.

"Hey! Come out with your hands up!" one of the Salarians shouted, trying to sound intimidating, and failing miserably. Their fear only intensified as a blue light appeared in the darkness. A line, nothing more. Then, multiple dots around it lit up one by one, all brilliant light blue. They moved as an eye, going up, forcing even the Turian to look up. A series of dry and quiet cracks sounded from the darkness, like dampened gunfire. The left Salarian staggered back, dropping his pistol and clutching at his chest. What followed was an absolute clusterfuck.

Seven depressed the trigger of his SMG for the second time, sending half a dozen Arc rounds into the torso of the other skinny amphibian. This one too, dropped his pistol, only he fell down on his back, limp and not getting back up. The taller reptilian alien, a Turian apparently, had only enough time to look at his fallen comrade, before Seven rushed out of the shadow, shoulder checking him. As he fell, the R-97 was raised and a staccato of suppressed gunfire sounded, after which the Salarian he one-tapped fell just as the others before him. As the HUD in his helmet and eyes confirmed the area was clear, he mag-locked the SMG on his back, turning to the Quarian quivering beneath the wall. He came closer, slowly kneeling over the small woman.

"Tali'Zorah, yes?" the gruff voice surprised Tali, as she was convinced this was a mech out to kill her.

The Quarian's frantic nods were the answer for Seven. He took out a medi-gun, the small injector filled with a concoction of Stim, nanites, and a lighter version of the chemical cocktail that made Spartans. Grabbing Tali's shoulder, he stuck the injector's needle next to the wound on her leg, depressing the trigger. He stuck a patch of sealant over the puncture, and straightened. The HUD identified Tali as the target, with status displayed next to her blue outline: Target secure. So, cracking the knuckles of his last 'normal' hand, he went over to the three thugs. The Turian seemed the most cognitive of them, so he hoisted the alien over to a wall, dropping him beneath it. He woke him up with a slap, having already tied him down.

"Name of employer."

"What?" the still half-unconscious alien looked at him, puzzled.

"State your employer."

"Pfft. And why'd I do that?" the alien was trying to hide his fear with humor. Subroutines and his mind made consensus: that would not do. Solution: psychological warfare. Suggested action: execute two neutralized hostiles, possible associates.

Without a word, he drew his P2016 out of its holster, and double-tapped both Salarians. Slowly lowering the handgun, he turned to the avian alien, blood pooling around both corpses, with some splattered on his boots.

The mandibles of the Turian twitched in fear, as the silencer of the pistol was pressed to his forehead. The beady eyes of the alien darted between the weapon, and the lights on the machine's head. This… thing, had killed both his men, and would kill him now too. His mind was overcome by something he hadn't felt in a long, long time: unrelenting, paralyzing fear.

So he told the thing all he knew. For a moment, he felt hope as the pistol was pulled away from his head. It was thwarted by a trigger pull, a 11.43 millimeter lead slug smashing the front of the alien's skull to pieces.

Shepard, accompanied by Vakarian, Alenko and Williams, was now looking at the entrance to Chora's Den. The club's neon signs were off, and the front was dark and empty. Turning back, she saw her little rag-tag team check their weapons, reading for combat. She noticed the sniper rifle on Garrus' back.

"You a sharpshooter?" when the Turian did his interpretation of a raised brow, she pointed to the weapon on his back.

"Oh, yeah. A bit. Was in the navy, it turned out I was a pretty good shot. Joined C-Sec, they suggested I should try getting marksman training. Got issued the rifle after some time." he shrugged, folding the assault rifle he was cleaning and putting it on his back next to the sniper.

"Okay, we all good?" getting nods of confirmation, she continued "Alright, Me and Williams take point, Alenko, take care of any biotics we might encounter, and Vakarian, stay behind and pick off anybody you can with that rifle of yours. Understood?"

After a 'Yes, ma'am' from Kaiden and Ashley, and another nod from Garrus, she turned to the exit of the alley they were in. Only to find a Quarian in a lavender suit standing there nervously.

"Excuse me, are you commander Shepard?"

"Yeah…" unfolding her rifle, Jane looked behind the young woman, Kaiden doing the same as Williams dragged her back into the alleyway.

"You're the Quarian that got the evidence against Saren?" when Tali nodded, the N7 continued her questioning "Ok. I didn't catch your name…?"

"Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya." the woman answered, fidgeting with some pouch on her belt.

"Well, good to meet you, Tali." Jane was about to ask her next question, but Williams beat her to it.

"How did you know where to find us? You a spy?" Williams brought up her rifle to low-ready, the unspoken threat hanging in the air.

Right then, Seven decloaked, as if appearing out of said air.

"We brought her here. Couldn't leave her alone, could we?" the playful voice of the AI sounded in the small alley, with a tine hologram of her sitting on Seven's arm.

"Directive upheld. Tali'Zorah is secure." the quiet mutter was left unheard by all except Shepard.

Garrus, meanwhile, not having met the man beforehand, was looking the armored behemoth over top to bottom.

"I didn't know humans got this big." Vakarian flared his mandibles in thought. Subconsciously, Seven clenched his fists, already running subroutines readying all of his armor's Modules and Tacticals. He knew this was not an Elite or Glyphid out to get him, but the resemblance was uncanny.

Any lingering hate to split-jaws was flushed from his brain as Protocol 1 was engaged by the computer engraved into his flesh when Jane approached. Again, he mumbled to himself. "Protocol One" escaped his lips, before he turned to his CO, he saluted, raising two fingers to his helmet.

"Commander. Condition green, unit ready for combat." He stood at attention, rigid as a statue, hands behind his back, folded on his jump kit.

"At ease, Seven. No need to be so strict. You heard the plan, yes?" the armored Pilot didn't speak back nor loosen up, only clicked his comms once to signal affirmative.

"Alright, everyone, get a move on." She walked out onto the boulevard that separated them from Chora's Den, the muzzle of her weapon scanning all the possible avenues of attack. They got halfway before being fired upon. She regretted taking this approach, as it was devoid of any meaningful cover, only small planters sprinkled throughout the avenue. They all dived behind them anyway, trying to at least reduce the target they now became. At least most of them, as Jane didn't see Seven anywhere, metal shavings zipping past her at relativistic speeds. The thugs in Chora's Den had a heavy machine gun, with heatsink to spare for continued fire. She knew they wouldn't last under such fire, even as Garrus picked off the gunner, the barks of his sniper heard clear among the scarce return fire of the squad.

Memories of Akuze flashed through her mind. She would not lose men like that again. Shepard stood up, her rifle roaring in full auto as her shields were pelted with projectiles. Just as her they collapsed under the hail of fire, she was yanked back and on the ground by some force. As she looked up, she saw Seven, standing over her, his left hand extended, the same blue vortex he used on Eden Prime covering both him and the commander.

He unclipped a shield emitter from his back, throwing the disk on the metal flooring of the station. He had made it himself, smashing together the Bubble Shield he got when scavenging an Hoxxes and an A-Wall emitter. The device activated, recharging the N7's kinetics as bullets pinged off the orange hardlight wall harmlessly. Seven threw all the metal pellets back at the machine gun nest, and looked back at the two marines and Turian, still stuck behind potted trees.

'Protect handler. Uphold directive.' rang in his head. He ran out from the shield, grabbing both Kaiden and Ashley and throwing them back into the safety of the bubble shield he had brought from Hoxxes.

As his own energy shields flared, he grabbed Vakarian by the collar of his armor, and ran back, full tilt, into the protection of the shield. As he slid to a stop over the Normandy's marines, he let go of Garrus, the Turian falling flat on his back.

Good thing we left Tali back in the alley he heard Avei in his head. Anyway, the heavy weapons are ready. Phase them in anytime.

Reaching into the hammerspace, he grabbed the handle of the Leadstorm. Yanking the weapon out, he grabbed it with both hands, bringing it to bear upon the unfortunate thugs in the club. The three barrels of the gun whirred into motion, as Avei phased in the ammo belt connected to the hammerspace, mounted to his back. Seven thumbed the safety of the weapon, smashing his finger on the trigger. And the weapon roared with fury in response.

Tali sat in silence, leaning against the wall of a building. She was alone in the alley, with only a turret left behind by the mech that helped her with the trio that were trying, at least she thought so, to kidnap her. Now that she thought about it, it seemed more and more obvious that this 'mech' was actually a living being. A human, most likely. Could humans really get this big, though?

Her musings were stopped by a hail of gunfire sounding from the boulevard outside the small street she was in. The staccato of mass accelerators was then broken by a thunderous roar, making her instinctively flinch. Wincing from the wound in her leg, Tali slowly got to the corner of the building to peek out. She saw Shepard and the small team sitting smack-dab in the center of the street. They were taking potshots at Fisk's mercenaries, with most of the shots only scratching the cover the thugs hid behind. Except for the human-shaped mech that helped her earlier, who was shelling said cover with a rotary gun, the blaze of muzzle flash from the three red hot barrels a meter long. The stream of tracers went left to right, and back again, ripping apart kinetic barriers and flesh with indifference.

Looking on, she decided that, maybe, the figure was indeed a mech rather than a human. It was scaring her, if only a bit.

Seven dropped the overheated minigun at his feet, his movements machine-like as he pulled multiple grenades off their places in straps and pouches. As the hardlight shield finally collapsed, he flinged three electric smoke grenades in an arc, the billowing smoke covered him and the four around him. His OS blared at him to 'Uphold directive' as he fished out six gravstars, three for each hand. He threw them all through the smoke and at the thugs, while Avei managed to phase in a modified MGL loaded with a belt of HE grenades onto the clamps on his back. Unclipping the ammo belt of the Leadstorm from his backplate, he grabbed the launcher and sprinted through the smoke, leaving Shepard&Co to not kill themselves.

He cloaked, stimming into the unlit club, his body on an adrenaline high of unprecedented levels. His HUD was alight with red signatures, as he readied his MGL. For the second time this day, his finger squeezed a trigger, without letting up until the weapon held stopped. He froze for a second, scanning for the survivors of his barrage. There always were some. He pinged Jane and her team to advance to his position. He digitalized the launcher in his hands, along with his stun baton, replacing them with his pickaxe and his EPG. The Mozambique was pulled from its holster, the safety switched from non-lethal to full power, the pistol in his hand, with the other clutching his Data Knife. He suspected there'd be at least one Krogan here, and just when Garrus stuck his head inside through a smashed window, said Krogan threw itself onto Seven. It didn't expect Seven disappearing with a crack, leaving only black and grey smoke, only to feel the knife's blade the Spartan was holding to bury itself in the side of his neck.

With a snarl, the heavier alien smashed their back into Seven, toppling them both to the ground. The Pilot picked up the merc and threw him at the bar, smashing it to pieces. He charged after the big lizard, emptying the clip of the Mozambique at it. Not having enough time to holster it, he discarded the pistol into hammerspace. An uppercut sent the Krogan back to the floor, bleeding orange from their nose and gunshot wounds on their torso.

Seven, with mechanical precision, kneeled over the 400 kilo alien, and sliced it's throat with the Data Knife in his hand. After a moment, he snapped their neck for good measure. The OS in his head was once again blaring at him to seek out hostiles and neutralize before they could pose a danger to the team.

Said team had entered the club, going up to Seven, guns scanning back and forth for targets. Jane, assured that no more hostiles were in vicinity, turned back to the Spartan Pilot. His armor, all scratched and dented, was covered in splatters of blood, in varying colors: dark red of a human's, a Turian's cobalt blue, some green splotches of Salarian, and dark orange hues of Krogan blood. Still as a machine, and not bothered by the gore covering him, Seven shouldered the R-97, flicking the magazine of Arc rounds out of the SMG, sliding in one with live ammunition and cycling the bolt.

"Ready for orders." the tone of the soldier's voice unsettled Jane, but she said nothing od it, as she waved at the team to advance further in. Meeting no resistance, they arrived at a door leading to Fisk's office. It was sealed shut, Shepard's and Garrus' hacking attempts yielding no results.

Any patience the OS in his head had was gone, as Seven stomped over to the two figures bent over a ripped open panel next to the door. The hardlight blade on his left forearm lit up as he reared it back. He buried it into the metal door, a small gap now sliced open. The blade off, his hands were in the gap, as his muscles and servos strained. The door, at last, gave way, pried open to reveal two terrified humans in worker's overalls. One held a pistol with shaky hands, aimed at the armored chest of the Spartan as he went through the doorway.

The weapon fired, the slither of metal leaving the barrel at unthinkable speeds, only to be eviscerated by the golden veil of energy shields covering the figure at the door. As soon as the projectile hit his shields, Seven had his pistol out, one-tapping both workers in the heads. Their skulls popping as grapes, perforated by the Full Metal Jacket bullets.

"WHAT IN THE HELL!" Jane snapped as the bodies hit the floor.

"Hostiles eliminated."

"WHAT HOSTILES?! THEY WERE CIVILIANS! You could've just let them go!" the commander kept screaming her lungs out at the perplexed man, who head was snapping between the livid N7 and the corridor, his pistol holstered and SMG out, scanning the space before him.

"Individuals were armed. Opened fire upon this unit. Unit upheld Protocol Three."

Still fuming, Shepard stomped past him "Let's get this over with. Kaiden, Ashley, come with me. We'll have a talk with Fisk." Turning back, she looked at the blue-faced Turian standing at the pried-open door.

"Garrus. Stay here and make sure this guy" she stuck a thumb at Seven "doesn't execute any more civilians. And you" *insert intense glare at Seven* "will listen to him. Am I understood?"

"Affirmative."

"Good. That's good. Okay…" Jane's voice faded behind a corner leading to Fisk's office.

Garrus stood there, leaning on a wall, having folded his arms on his chest.

What did he get himself into?

A galaxy-wide conspiracy, that's what he's gotten himself into.

That's at least what this seemed to be, as he stood near the door, watching the office along with Seven. Tali sat in a chair before the desk of the Ambassador Udina, her omni aglow as she forwarded him the recording she got from a Geth datacore.

The Ambassador was, understandably, adamant that they go and present said evidence to the Council at once. All of the people in the room, sans Tali and Seven, were almost shaking from excitement at the prospect of bringing Saren to justice.

"Shepard, we're going. You, Quarian, come with us. You need to testify." Udina barked out orders like a harsh officer would. His walk to the door was stopped as Seven stepped in front of the aging diplomat.

"Sir." The man stood frozen for a second, before speaking again.

"Handler Tali'Zorah nar Rayya is wounded. Protocol Three dictates I keep watch and provide medical assistance, commander." he said, turning to said redhead, his movements still more like a machine than man.

"Yes, yes, you may stay. Go on, we'll be late." Udina waved Shepard and the rest to go, which they promptly did, leaving the two alone. Seven immediately took out an injector, sticking it's needle next to Tali's wound. Before she closed the door, Jane glanced back at the tall man, who now stood guard, his SMG at low-ready, towering over the frail Quarian slumped in the chair.

It was an odd sight, if she's ever seen one.

Avei walked across the cyberspace and the mind of her Spartan, as he stood watch over the small alien woman. She had access to the data of the damned Operating System in his head, which made him more of a machine than her. Looking over the visual from his eyes, she noticed the updated parameters: Tali was now considered a 'handler', just as Garrus, Alenko, Williams and, of course, Shepard, whose orders could apparently override any directive and protocol.

His eyes darted around any entry points to the room, blue and green lines outlining all objects in his vision. As Seven stood there, she got to play with the data that she was forwarded from the nanites coursing throughout Tali's veins. The Quarian's immune system, was, in fact, nearly-non-existent. Just as she read in this so called 'Extranet'. Truly fascinating.

Avei was about to relay the news to Seven, when the comms crackled to life, and Jane's voice came through.

"Seven. Meet us on the Normandy."

"Affirmative. What is to be done about Tali'Zorah?" he deadpanned in response.

"Well… I've been made a Spectre. I guess we can take her with us… ?" the hulking man turned back to the Quarian in the chair.

"Commander Shepard questions whether you are willing to join her crew." Tali perked up, Seven saw hopefulness in her body language. After a some hesitation, she made up her mind.

"Tell Shepard I'll be joining her. Saren's a danger. I'm going to help you stop it."

"Affirmative. Commander, will rendezvous at the Normandy."

As he scanned with his SMG with Tali in tow, he heard Avei berate him in his mind once again.

You should loosen up sometimes, you know? Acting like a machine is supposed to be Cray's thing. Or mine. Not yours.

As usual, he did not voice his thoughts. This time he could try using the technique Avei was showing him. So he tried.

As Avei wandered across the space inside Adam's head, she came across a string of ones and zeros, formed into a message. To her.

Odd.

She extended her non-existent hand, and the numbers started changing into letters. A single word, it turned out.

NEGATIVE

A quick massage to anyone reading.

Firstly:

Thank you to everyone reading and/or reviewing. It helps to motivate me to wirte further.

Secondly:

I need help.

A beta reader, or someone to help me with idioms and general terms and wording would be of great assistance. If anyone is interested please PM me.

Also, since the summer holidays are here, the pace of my writing *might* increase.

For future reference, please do comment any inconsistencies or mistakes. It will help me improve. Any and all constructive criticism is welcome as well.

Have a good day, and Rock & Stone, miners.