DISCLAIMER: Mass Effect video game is the property of its respective owners and the author has no financial gain from it. Original Characters and story concept are mine though.

A/N: Here is the second part of Chapter 6. This one has a about 6,5k words for your enjoyment. We finally go to the Mass Effect galaxy - took us long enough. I am posting this one a little bit earlier than usual, because two more updates are already done, so there is no point in procastrinating. The next chunk though, will be posted on the next Saturday as it should be.

My beta is still the one and the only Redentor

I would also like to take a moment and thank James from Redentor Publishings for his diligent work, brainstorming and suggestions. Without him this story would probably never saw the light of the day and I think there is at least a few people who actually enjoy reading my scribbles. So thank you and thank you again!

The next week and a half was spent preparing for my Beta-Body upgrade. The Consciousness Acquisition team moved into Camp Bravo Two and had a special lab prepared there for the body upgrade and subsequent deployment procedure. In my personal opinion it was highly unlikely that something would have happened to me on the way, should I have to go to the Alsmoor facility, but Security Branch wasn't taking any chances so close to my deployment.

While the Interactive Dislocation Department team prepared the upgrade I was still going to my classes and taking part in military exercises with the rest of the 3rd Battalion and occasionally with the Confederate Army and Navy. The closer we got to my deployment date, the higher rose the level of combat readiness in our base and the more agitated the soldiers of 213th Infiltration Brigade became.

The base security was upped considerably in the last week or so. The security measures from nearly three months ago, when I first came to Camp Bravo Two seemed very lax in comparison. We now had emergency drills daily, all soldiers wore weapons with them at all times and more and more duties were performed in the full body armor instead of regular mottled gray fatigues. Drone operators deployed all four defense wings for patrolling the vicinity of the base and all passes for the Security Branch personnel were revoked. You could feel in the air that something was about to happen and I admit that I was very excited for it.

I was sitting in my class, typing furiously on my holo-tablet and listening to the lecture when the door opened. An NCO that I couldn't recognize entered the classroom. He nodded apologetically at the lecturing officer and said, "Lieutenant Dubois, with me."

I immediately stood up and left the classroom, saluting the lecturer on my way out. It was very unusual for NCOs to be sent out personally to collect wayward agents when a simple wrist-comp message would do the job all the same, so I was immediately curious. It was either something very important or very urgent.

We left the classroom behind and passed the administrative offices of the base. We walked through the hallways and I inquired.

"Can you tell me what happened, Staff Sergeant?" I asked, noticing the insignia on his collar.

The NCO's response was respectful and professional, but he remained reticent.

"I don't know anything, lieutenant."

"But you know where we are going, sergeant?" I pressed on, determined to find out.

"We are going to the laboratory prepared by the Interactive Dislocation Department, lieutenant. That's all I know." The NCO looked exasperated at my questioning, but I already found out what I needed to know.

"Thank you, Staff Sergeant." I said curtly.

I was fairly sure where we were going. It seemed like everything was prepared for my Body Upgrade and it will be done today. As we navigated the familiar hallways of the administration building my mind started to wander once more.

One of the rules of the Security Branch was: 'Gather information wherever and whenever possible. You may never know when it might be useful.' In addition to another one: 'Never go into combat situation unprepared – intelligence and preparation, not foolish bravado is what wins the wars.'

That was all the External Affairs Bureau cared about – wars. Not tactical small-unit engagements, not pitched battles, not even large-scale combat operations, but wars – pure and simple.

Yes, we put strong emphasis on the combat capabilities and training of particular field agents, but in the end everything became less important in comparison to a final victory. It didn't matter if your enemy thought he won a thousand engagements, big or small. All that mattered was that our side accomplished strategic goals of the war. Such a holistic approach by definition put the lives of soldiers and non-combatants or destruction of the property as secondary to the war effort as a whole – the complete opposite of what I was taught in history classes back on Earth. On Earth modern societies condemned torture, while Confederacy citizens gave their tacit agreement into torturing their enemies with one clause: 'we don't want to see it or hear about it.' Sure, there were voices of discontent against such a policy, but the majority of people as usual could not be bothered enough to care.

In the Mass Effect universe, even the turians balked at dropping nuclear devices on the surface of so-called 'garden worlds' – and for a good reason. Garden worlds, suitable for supporting life and colonization were rare and precious. For Security Branch on the other hand it was a perfectly valid strategy if it denied the resources to the enemy. In the end a corporation like Nebular Dynamics would win a contract to terraform the planet back to its previous state, earn billions of credits while doing so and everyone would be happy. Sure, taxpayers' money and innumerable sentient lives were wasted in the process, but if it achieved us the strategic goals, we were more than happy to pay the price.

Also, I learned during the course of my studies that while Confederacy would not go out of their way to endanger innocents, all sentient living beings came second when put against the Confederacy's citizens or property. If the push came to shove, Confederate Navy had no problem with conducting a 'gunboat diplomacy' with starships and weapons of mass destruction. To paraphrase the French general and president, Charles De Gaulle: 'Confederacy doesn't have friends – it has spheres of interest.'

But that was for later. Now I had to get ready for the Body Upgrade procedure. I had been mentally preparing for it for the last week or so. I was still apprehensive, especially about the possibility of losing my memories (to my horror I still could not remember where my parents lived), but I reached the conclusion that it had to be done. I gritted my teeth as we approached the entrance to the labs.

"Thank you sergeant, I will manage from here on." I said silently but firmly, turning to face him.

Staff Sergeant seemed like he wanted to protest for a moment, but he took one look at my serious face and left without saying a word. I was still his superior officer, even if he'd likely been given orders by MY superiors to bring me here.

I activated my wrist-comp and opened the door to the labs. I entered a spacious room with something akin to an operating table in the middle. The first thing I thought when I saw it was: 'It's very blue'. There were cold blue lights illuminating the space, which gave an aura of a sterile environment – I suspect it was supposed to put me at ease. On one of the walls there was a huge flat screen displaying some complicated readouts which meant absolutely nothing to me. Apart from that I noticed couple of vaguely dangerous looking tools lying around, but I knew that in IDD work they would mostly use nanotech, which was kept in special durasteel containers. Multiple durasteel containers were placed on one of the metal tables, easily accessible if needed.

Christiansen and Vassilevskiy were there, preparing the table and consulting their own wrist-comps. Both men had foregone their snug gray coveralls and wore something similar to HAZMAT suits, which didn't fill me with confidence at all. Gillespie stood in the corner, operating what looked like a large desktop computer. He was surrounded by an energy field of some sort, probably to keep him from contaminating the sterile room as he didn't have the environmental suit on him. He had a 'Google glasses' headset that I've seen many people wearing and was monitoring the screen. Matthias was a consummate IT specialist, when he was in his 'programming space' he didn't notice the world around him, so I wasn't surprised in the slightest he completely ignored my entrance.

Behind the reinforced glass window I saw Dr. Koeckritz, General Anjou, Colonel van Koolwijk along with Galtieri and Sharpe. There were a few more officers that I didn't recognize as well as a couple of older looking ladies and gentleman, whom must have come from the Interactive Dislocation Department if their elegant attires were anything to go by.

Three months ago I would have been mortified if I was told to undress in front of all these people. But that was the old me – my months of military and espionage training combined with the years of knowledge passed through methodical and numerous data transfers completely erased any feelings of embarrassment or shame I would have normally felt. I could bet my next salary that the people present here knew my most intimate secrets by now in any case. They were the ones who put me through my hellish interrogation after all. Compared to those experiences my upcoming Beta-Body Upgrade was nothing.

Christiansen smiled at me and indicated that I needed to rest on the table. Only then did I notice that Lox was also present in the room in his terminator-like, durasteel chassis. The AI assistant helped me with removing the uniform and I was left in my underwear. As I lied down on the 'operating table', Vassilevskiy approached me with his wrist-comp activated. The orange glow was in the shape of a narrow syringe, to which he attached one of the nanogel containers. The app in my eyes identified it as the dreamless sleep solution.

The geneticist said reassuringly, "We will put you to sleep now, Dubois. You won't feel a thing."

I nodded, still rather apprehensive and asked Vassilevskiy.

"Will you give me my memories back, doctor?"

Vassilevskiy and Christiansen exchanged quick looks. Finally the smiling Swede said.

"I will do the best I can, Dubois. I promise you that." He nodded at Vassilevskiy and motioned him to continue.

I was aware that the procedure I was about to undergo was very difficult and dangerous to me, but I couldn't bring myself to care about it. You only live once, right?

Vassilevskiy injected me with nanogel. It entered my bloodstream and spread itself throughout my body. A heartbeat later I drifted into unconsciousness, sleep claiming my fatigued mind.

We were lying on the hill, an overwatch position above the enemy base. This time I knew that we had live rounds in the magazines. I scanned the FOB with my binoculars and to my great surprise I spotted the green colours of the Technocratic Peoples' Federation. From my readings I recognized them as their elite Volunteer Guards Battalions – by far their most unforgiving soldiers. Their answer to the Confederacy's Special Forces, and Security Branch.

Above the enemy FOB waved the TechnoFed flag. This flag stirred in me the memories of my shameful interrogation, which quickly turned into cold hatred. It had the colors of the Confederacy, a twisted mockery of what we stood for. I understood that it represented something that I hated with every fiber of my being.

I gritted my teeth at the TechnoFed bastards and gave a quick order.

"Trang, call in the QRF. Light up the whole base."

"Roger that, el-tee," Came the muffled response of the drone operator.

This time our artillery came in immediately, walking barrage sweeping the TechnoFed FOB. These were no dummy rounds and they would not lock up the enemy combat armors. Exploding ordinance tore H-barriers and sandbag walls to pieces, ripping apart the TechnoFeds who took cover behind them. This time we didn't need any support and I ordered my squad to 'fire and advance' with a grim expression.

I felt my pulse racing as we once again bound forward by teams. This time everything went perfectly, seeing as the small FOB did not put much of a fight. There was barely any return fire from the beleaguered TechnoFeds as we sprinted toward their positions. Elite infantry, right!

We entered the nearly empty base-camp. Enemies were still shell-shocked and they could barely recognize their surroundings, let alone fight against us. We put each of them down easily as we fanned out inside the base. They did not surrender to us and no quarter was given, because Confederacy does not negotiate with terrorists. Sure it was not the way that we fought on Earth in 21st century, but the Multiverse was a dog-eat-dog world!

I approached one of the lying TechnoFeds with a satisfied smirk. His legs were completely gone as he was caught by the edge of the explosion during the artillery barrage. He seemed rather lanky for an elite soldier, but perhaps the Technocratic Peoples' Federation was scrapping the bottom of the barrel now. The soldier was not moving – my knowledge of combat wounds was limited, but I believe that it was the condensed air pressure generated by the exploding ordinance that was the cause of death. I crouched by him and took off his helmet. My eyes opened wide in horror.

It was my little brother - Tommy. I had three brothers and his head was shaved completely bald, but I would recognize his face anywhere in the world. His lifeless eyes looked up at me with a surprised expression, as if he didn't expect his young life to be cut so short.

I couldn't stop my tears – he wasn't supposed to be here! He was supposed to be safe at home where there are no wars, no Reapers and no dimension-hopping terrorists. I cried as I cradled what was left of his body on my lap, not even noticing the dark red blood painting my armor.

Oh God… oh God… fucking TechnoFeds… How dare they? My family… I'm going to kill them all!

Then there was light again.

Waking up felt good for a change. My body was working better than ever and I was filled with energy. I opened my eyes and saw Christiansen looking down at me. The neurologist looked very satisfied and I took it as a good sign. He noticed that I had awoken and helped me up.

"How are you feeling, Peter?"

I smiled at him slightly. I was not going to tell him that I just killed my brother and I waved away his helping hand. Despite knowing that it was simply a nightmarish dream, I still felt shaken to the core. I mean, Confederacy would not allow any harm to come to my family, would they?

"Better than ever, Olaf." I lied. It came to me easier with each passing day. "I take it that the surgery was successful?"

Of course it was. I could still recall my brother's dead body on my lap. Memory doesn't get any better than that.

"Indeed. We have managed to fully restore memories of your previous life and believe me – it wasn't easy. I think that the results of this surgery will be enough to guarantee my PhD."

I barked a short laugh at that as I recounted things I previously could not remember. I was immensely relieved to find that I could recall them with perfect clarity.

"Feel free to use them, mate. You did a good job." I said approvingly.

"No, lieutenant. I did the best job." He corrected me with his traditional goofy smile. "We have noticed some unusual brain activity during the procedure. Are you sure you're alright, Peter?"

"I'm fine, doctor. Stop being such a mother-hen." I gave him a tight smile as I looked for my uniform.

I found it in one of the lockers (Pathfinder app being indispensable once more) and put it back on. I strapped on my sidearm and adjusted my headgear, as I recollected my dream. I didn't believe in prophetic dreams – they were simply the visualization of our hopes and fears. But I recalled with vivid clarity my burning hatred for the TechnoFeds. I knew that people who interrogated me were Security Branch employees in disguise. Why would I feel such hatred toward the terror group, then? Is it possible that it was subconsciously ingrained in me during my multiple data transfers? Or perhaps some of the Galtieri's memories were affecting my own judgment? Jesus H. Christ, I was shaping up to be a real basket-case.

Christiansen opened the door and led me through one of the side corridors to a larger conference room. The large armored door opened silently in front of us, allowing us entrance.

My training created certain habits that I followed and this time was no exception. When I entered the unfamiliar room my eyes swept all four corners of it, quickly assessing possible covers and escape routes. The conference room was spacious with very elegant wooden tables and comfortable leather armchairs. Everyone I saw prior to the surgery was sat there with their holo-tablets activated, including the men I'd never seen before. There was a clear line in sitting arrangements with Security Branch people having taken seats on the left and IDD personnel on the right. They all seemed to be waiting for me.

I sat down at the chair indicated by the Pathfinder app and waited for someone to speak first. Thankfully it was the General Anjou who broke the uncomfortable silence. The severe-looking officer looked at me and spoke, business-like and composed.

"How are you feeling, lieutenant?"

"Never better, sir. All my memories appear to be back." I answered crisply, not willing to divulge further.

I noticed that everyone wrote something on their holo-tablets. One of the older gentlemen from the IDD that I couldn't recognize said, "According to Dr. Vassilevskiy's and Dr. Christiansen's post-surgery reports they were able to fully recover the Lieutenant's memories and fix the imbalances of his Beta-Body, especially concerning the issues with data-transfer procedure. Problems with memory overwrite and painful knowledge transfer have been resolved. They won't be of any concern in the future, we can assure you lieutenant."

The unknown IDD man said the last sentence in my general direction with a slight tilt of his head. To say I was relieved was an understatement. Usually, at the end of the working week I was physically and mentally exhausted due to multiple knowledge transfers. During the weekends I could barely move in the morning, before Lox injected me with my daily cocktail of vitamins and energizers. Knowing that I would not have to suffer the phantom pains made me a very happy man. I definitely looked forward to getting some good night sleep without any headache or nerve pain.

General Anjou nodded at that and stood up from his armchair. He turned towards and addressed the gathered scientists.

"It seems like finally everything went according to the plan, ladies and gentlemen. As we all can plainly see Lieutenant Dubois is alive and healthy. This concludes our meeting. I would like to take this moment now, to thank everyone from the Interactive Dislocation Department who have taken part in the Consciousness Acquisition and Transfer procedure and subsequent body upgrade. Please remember that Security Branch and the Confederacy are grateful for your hard work. You have made your country proud and the Multiverse a safer place."

It was a clear dismissal if I'd ever heard one. For all his nice words what Anjou said was basically: 'You've done your work civvies, now get out. Let the big boys handle the REAL job.' Have I mentioned that the Security Branch and the IDD disliked each other when it came to Consciousness Acquisition due to their overlapping responsibilities? I believe I did. And as you could clearly see, my big boss despite his age and experience was no exception to that rule.

The IDD personnel swiftly emptied the conference room – neither of the agencies had much time for elaborate ceremonies. Once only the Security Branch personnel were left in the room, General Anjou used his wrist-comp to lock the door and said.

"Lieutenant, we must plan your deployment now. Your body and mind have been fully tested and found to be within the acceptable parameters. You have also passed all your competence examinations and it was decided that you will be promoted to full Lieutenant as you should be, seeing as your training is now complete."

He paused for a moment, letting me absorb the information. It wasn't that much of a surprise, really. Unlike my previous promotion, I saw this one coming a mile away – without a full lieutenant rank I could not be deployed outside of Multiverse Confederacy territory, especially not on a solo mission.

"During your training we have also assessed your strong and weak points and have adjusted your mission plan accordingly. Obviously, the basics remain the same; your job is to establish an espionage network in Sub-verse F-Out number 524. For simplicity's sake from now on we will use the colloquial designation 'Mass Effect Universe' after the video game from your world. We already maintain a number of undercover sources in the galaxy in question and you will be receiving their particulars after you are deployed. You will also be forwarded a full list of equipment that you will be issued – this list has to be double-checked and signed off, but the details you will discuss with Captain Galtieri."

Of course I would have to do more paperwork, because that's what people in the Multiverse Confederacy did. The invoices kept our multiverse spinning. Or should I say running? Never mind.

Meanwhile Anjou motioned Major Sharpe to continue. The Commander of my battalion consulted his own holo-tablet.

"We hold a strong belief that your first contact point should be one Zaeed Massani. He is a former Alliance soldier and currently a freelancer mercenary. Mr. Massani does occasional jobs for the Shadow Broker, even if their affiliation is not very deep or secure. Nevertheless, he still harbors an ambition to take back the control of the private military corporation he established – the Blue Suns. If we are able to help him out in this endeavor we may secure his loyalty and use the Blue Suns' considerable firepower and numbers to our advantage. While the Security Branch and the Confederacy in general may have a problem with sending our own troops to the Mass Effect Universe they won't have any issues whatsoever with providing funds to pay off Blue Suns contractors."

Blue Suns had a very bad reputation in Mass Effect games, usually serving as cannon fodder to be killed by Shepard or as faceless and nameless troops to one Terminus warlord or another. Some of their reputation was certainly deserved. Private armies in Mass Effect were not like our PMCs who took mostly government contracts concerning training or guard duties, who existed under the tolerance of the established administration. The companies like Blue Suns, Eclipse or Blood Pack had no problem with smuggling illegal substances, weapons or even slaves. They really weren't the kind of people a girl would bring home and introduce to her parents.

Despite all that, no one would ever say that they were cowardly, poorly trained or incompetent at what they did. Blue Suns were well-led on a squad level, well equipped with small arms and heavy weaponry and they even had their own small navy. As much as it pained me to admit it, they were my kind of troops. In addition – they were loyal to money and for everything that the External Affairs Bureau was lacking, money was not one of these things.

"So you want me to subvert Mr. Massani to our cause and use Blue Suns as the starting point for military build-up against the Reaper threat, sir?"

Sharpe nodded with a small smile and said.

"That is correct, lieutenant. Additionally, many of the Blue Suns contractors are Batarian. We can use the Blue Suns mercenaries and their knowledge to gain valuable insight into the current situation in the Batarian Hegemony. Sadly, we have been unable to properly infiltrate the structures of the Hegemony so far, due to the totalitarian nature of their state. Part of the problem is also the traditional Batarian xenophobia, which was ingrained into their culture over centuries, almost if not as much as slavery was."

Sharpe looked severely around the table and continued, his tone of voice carrying a note of finality.

"We don't like the way the Batarian Hegemony is run at the moment, but the near total eradication of their race during the course of Mass Effect video games is not an acceptable solution by any stretch. No matter how two-faced or inhumane the Hegemony regime is, condemning a whole race to genocide does not sit well with the Multiverse Confederacy. For that matter, it shouldn't sit well with any decent human being."

I didn't particularly care one way or the other for the Batarians when I played the video games – unless they happened to kill my Shepard, but that's a whole different story. At the time they seemed like a pretty generic space-asshole race whose sole purpose in the game was to provide an enemy that we, as players could all hate. Also, the Batarians fit pretty well with the Crapsack Universe that Mass Effect galaxy was, with their totalitarian political system and glorification of sentient servitude.

"These two are your first objectives lieutenant. It will provide you with a beachhead, a stable base of operations. The moment you are deployed to Sub-verse F-Out number 524 all our assets in that 'verse will become your assets. Do you have any further questions, Dubois?" asked Sharpe

I thought about it for a moment. To be frank, winning the loyalty of the old mercenary seemed like a piece of cake in comparison to stretching the Bureau's espionage network to include Batarians and infiltrating the Hegemony's territory. It seemed like the Security Branch provided a steep learning curve for their field agents. But my training was kicking in as usual and I smirked to myself. I already had an outline of a plan that I would use.

In the mean time I was writing down everything I could on my holo-tablet. I raised my eyes and looked back at General Anjou, who was listening to our conversation closely.

"What measures are authorized for subverting Zaeed Massani, taking control of the Blue Suns and infiltrating the Hegemony structures, General?"

Brigadier General Edouard Anjou, the commanding officer of 213th Infiltration Brigade looked at me for a moment that felt like eternity. His eyes were wholly unreadable and I could feel deep unease settle over me. Finally, he responded quietly.

"You are authorized to use any and all means at your disposal to fulfill these objectives, lieutenant."

I gulped loudly as I heard a soft murmur pass among the gathered Security Branch officers. They understood the gravity of this permission and so did I. It meant that I'd received something that only a limited number of agents got – a carte blanche. The white card. It meant that I could do anything I deemed necessary to achieve my goals, including acquiring liquid assets through illegal means, detaining people without lawful order, conducting 'forceful interrogation' and even a summary execution under the provisions of Martial Law.

Of course, I was still bound by the Security Branch code of conduct. I still had to fill in monthly reports that would be kept under strict scrutiny. Even stricter scrutiny in fact, given the nature of the carte blanche. Still, if I didn't tread carefully it had potential to go very badly indeed.

I heard General Anjou call the meeting to adjourn, but my body was moving of its own volition. I barely registered saluting the senior officers as I left the conference room.

I needed a drink. And a smoke. And maybe a shower.

It was Thursday, of all days. The day I was going to be deployed to my first and very likely last solo mission as a field agent of the Security Branch. It took me some time to absorb all the information that I recently learned. Seeing as my problem with knowledge transfer technology was now fixed, I spent my last few days getting all the data-transfers I could get my hands on that concerned the Mass Effect Galaxy. Some of the knowledge that I acquired was very useful. Others not so much, but I didn't mind.

According to the ever-helpful Lox I was now an expert in Hanar algae farming technologies and I could write a proper scientific essay on Asari folk music, god awful as it was. Seriously, Asari might be the ultimate space babes with awesome psychic-biotic powers, but they definitely should be kept away from any music instruments. There were a couple of other useless and mundane topics that I learned, but the less said about them the better. Nevertheless, no matter what happened in the future, even if I failed horribly, I could say with all honestly that I did my best to prepare for the task ahead.

Security Branch wasn't the Army. They didn't have any elaborate passing-out parades, seeing as parade drills were only performed during the basic training to establish discipline among the raw recruits. Apart from my meeting with the Security Branch officers few days ago, which confirmed my promotion to full lieutenant there was no official ceremony to mark the end of my training. That in of itself was fine, but a romantic part of my soul still yearned for a little pomp and pride.

I sat down on my bed, waiting for the all clear signal. The Supply and Logistics Company was still doing some last minute tweaks to my transport. I looked at my folded hands, excited and terrified at the same time. Finally, after what seemed like the standard queuing time for a healthcare clinic, I heard the beeping sound of an incoming message on my wrist-comp. I guess I should start calling them omni-tools now, since it wouldn't be very good to slip up during my time in the Mass Effect galaxy. Then again, an Omni-Tool was essentially a wrist-mounted computer. Aside from all the other functions that made it seem more like a Swiss-Army knife than a piece of electronics, I could just as easily pass off any potential slip-ups as a personal quirk.

I checked the message to confirm what it said:

'Lieutenant Dubois to the flight deck.'

I sighed heavily and got up from my bed. For the last time I took a good look around my room. It was completely devoid of any personal knick-knacks that I gathered over the weeks and it was fully prepared to accept a new tenant, whoever that might be. I gathered my bearings and left the bunk in which I lived for the last three months. My name was erased from the holographic display on the door, the moment I closed it behind me – in about an hour it will be as if I never existed here. And that seemed to be the Security Branch's goal, since one of the reasons I was recruited was plausible deniability.

All my clothes and equipment were already packed by the enlisted personnel, so I only wore my light Interceptor Armor, its helmet loosely attached to my waist. I had my assault rifle, my knife and my sidearm with me as I walked the corridor – everything else was already aboard. I left the officers barracks and crossed the parade ground outside, going straight to one of the hangars. While I was walking there I was alone, apart from Galtieri and Sharpe who joined me on the way. Galtieri was there in his capacity as my direct superior and Sharpe as an officer who had operational control over my mission. They didn't offer any words of encouragement or pity and I was strangely touched by that. It meant that my training was finally over and I was fully accepted into the ranks of the Security Branch agents. Galtieri and Sharpe were no longer my mentors – and their behavior reflected that. But it also meant that they trusted me to fulfill my mission to the best of my abilities, and to accept the responsibility for mistakes made in the line of duty. A tall order.

We entered one of the hangar bays on the edges of the Camp Bravo Two. There I noticed the Alliance corvette that would become my home away from home for the duration of the mission, or at least until I could find a better ship. Its shape was markedly different from Confederacy's starships that surrounded it – it was more lean and aerodynamic in design, whereas Confederate Navy put more emphasis on heavy armament and utility.

The decommissioned ship was called SSV 'Coronado' when it served in the Systems Alliance Navy. She was one of the Freedom-class patrol corvettes. She was supposed to be scrapped along with her sister ships when the Freedom-class units were being replaced with a newer type of vessel, but it never came to pass. The vessels were spacious, respectably sturdy and space-worthy but above all they guaranteed a very long period of operational independence, as they were designed for scouting and long range patrols. Because of that it was much more reasonable to sell them off on the civilian market and many of them had ended up in private hands. The Confederacy had no problem with acquiring one of the corvettes and refitting it for their own purposes.

As a long range patrol boat she was designed to work with a skeleton crew of four people, even if she could comfortably accommodate up to twenty. The problem was – I was just one person. It would be impossible for me to run the ship by myself, even if I specialized in this field, which I most certainly did not. The solution proposed by Major Sharpe was elegantly simple, but because we were going to be in the Mass Effect galaxy it posed a rather large problem. Long story short, Lox would be going with me as a second crew member, along with four of his android bodies. As an Artificial Intelligence he had (much like displaced people) a special status in the Confederacy, which allowed him to be sent to other universes under the authority and jurisdiction of Security Branch. In addition, he could easily control four of his bodies at the same time, which allowed him to take full control of the boat. He was also a veritable walking encyclopedia of the Mass Effect galaxy, which would definitely come in handy, seeing as I won't have access to the Confederacy's equivalent of Internet.

The danger was of course lay in the fact that Artificial Intelligences were illegal in Citadel Space. Just as with my feelings upon the Batarians, I wasn't really bothered with breaking Citadel law that much, but I didn't want to suffer through a headache of police or military investigation either. And that's what would happen should it be discovered that I harbored an AI on board of my ship. Of course, there was nothing I could do about it so it was decided that I would simply tread carefully.

I turned to Galtieri and Sharpe who accompanied me and saluted them respectfully. Without further ado we shook hands and I climbed aboard my new corvette. I had to use the stairs, because the docking port was on top of the ship.

We decided to leave the name 'Coronado', because I liked it and we simply scrapped off the Alliance markings. Any armaments that the corvette originally had were removed as it went to military surplus, but Confederacy reinstalled many of them. To avoid suspicion, they installed a standard, low-caliber mass accelerator cannon along the spine with one torpedo launcher. Such weaponry was bound to raise some eyebrows under closer scrutiny, but I honestly didn't care. I could simply say that I mostly fly through Terminus systems. 'Coronado' didn't have any dedicated defensive weaponry like GARDIAN lasers, but she didn't need it. Confederate engineers placed an overlay of plasteel with nanites, which was guaranteed to withstand much more punishment than standard Mass Effect armor. A proper cruiser could still do a lot of damage to her, but if I ever got stupid enough to go up against a proper cruiser in this high-tech dingy, then I deserved to die.

We also had the regular mass effect drive, but the engineers of the Security Branch managed to jury-rig an additional, suitable wormhole-jump mechanism that would provide us with some dimension-hopping ability. The 'Coronado' would never be able to run circles around the Mass Effect starships, she simply wasn't built for that. But she would definitely be capable of running from the danger zone if the situation ever demanded it. Which was almost a guaranty.

I sat at the pilot armchair and looked at the holographic indicators. To my undertrained eye everything seemed okay, so I reclined comfortably and waited for the launch.

I did go through the basic flight training after my failure with flying the shuttle, but I wasn't proficient in it by any stretch. I was reasonably certain that I could keep her flying straight if necessary, but nothing more sophisticated than that. As it was, I preferred to leave the particulars of running and flying the corvette in the able hands of Lox, who was much less likely to crash land us on some lifeless planet.

It wasn't a very long wait before I heard that the countdown begin. The hangar ceiling opened up like the petals of a blooming flower and the 'Coronado' activated its maneuvering engines. I had no windows in the corvette, but I turned the external cameras on to observe the world around me. On the holographic screens I saw Camp Bravo Two and the surrounding forests and fields. It wasn't High-Definition quality, but it was still breathtaking, since the external cameras were installed everywhere around the ship. The apps in my eyes were constantly scanning the screens and indicators, advising on the most efficient and correct routes, completely unaware that the corvette was not in fact being steered by me. As we climbed slowly above the base, a couple of Security Branch 'Fulcrums' provided an escort to the wormhole-jump area. It was indicated by flashing anti-grav beacons, which floated around the staging area and warned flying drones and other aircraft of the imminent jump. It was a safety precaution. Apparently third party ships caught in the transition were usually found ripped to pieces, along with their crew.

I had no idea whether it was true, or whether it was just another of the legends that spacers liked to tell in the bars, but I wasn't very keen on testing it on myself. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best.

The countdown reached zero when we were at the staging area. Lox activated all boosters and I felt a sharp tug on my body as it was pressed into the armchair by the accelerating corvette. I opened my eyes and through the screen right before my face I saw a dark wormhole forming, the same as the one I saw the cruiser form from during our military exercise. It grew bigger and bigger and I thought that it would completely swallow my ship as we came near it. The 'Coronado' went through the opened wormhole like a knife through butter. There were no flashes or lightning strikes during the transition – one moment we were above the ground at Camp Bravo Two and another we flew through the void of space.

We were in a different universe. It still felt weird to say and it happened so fast! I reigned in my apprehension and steeled myself to do what needed to be done. The Reapers were coming to melt me down along with everyone else in the galaxy.

We had to be prepared for everything.

END OF CHAPTER 6

A/N: So this is the second part of Chapter 6. Thus we also conclude the Training and Preparation Arc (no it wasn't really a proper story arc, I just made that up on the fly). From now on Dubois will venture deep into the ugliest corners of Mass Effect galaxy. He will see the dirty underbelly of the universe and gain some questionable allies. But that is for Chapter 7, so stay tuned!

Have a good one!