Feeling That Punch in the Gut

It's been about three months now, just a day over I think, since I finished Mass Effect 3.

The end of the Mass Effect trilogy has completely thrown me for a loop.  Enough even to affect my writing schedule and the progress I make on creative works in general.  Yes, this is completely pathetic.  I understand that, and I admit it.  Doesn't make it any less of a reality for my overly-attached psyche.  I grew to love the Mass Effect franchise right to its very core.  I was excited and eager to see the end of Samantha's story (I'm calling her Samantha, not Shepard, it's my blog, eat it).  I was equally excited and eager to see further adventures of other characters within the wider narrative.

That, when everything is said and done, is what it all comes down to.  At least, for me.

I love Sam's story.  Her interactions with the crew of the Normandy, and all those wonderful characters who circulated in and out of the broad story spanning the trilogy, are what made those three games so powerful.  I won't bother going into the specifics, since I'm hoping anyone who might read this would understand completely.  Even now, if you're who I hope you are, you can easily think of at least a dozen touching, funny, badass, horrifying, or sad moments involving any of the characters.  So we don't need to go there; we've already arrived.  The story of Commander Shepard and her friends is what it is.

Yet, as I said, I love the setting as a whole.  The technology, cultures, even the politics of the setting fascinated me from the very first few hours of Mass Effect.  I was excited to see the stories of other people throughout the galaxy.  It's one reason the multiplayer of ME3 is so exciting to me; other heroes doing their part to fight the Reapers.  I was eager to see the exploits of soldiers throughout the galaxy go on their own adventures trying to bring things back under control after the Reaper invasion.  I wanted to see bounty hunters with their own rough-and-tumble ships chasing batarians through Alliance space.  I wanted an intricate murder mystery set entirely on the Citadel.  I wanted legends of the great Commander Shepard to inspire young heroes throughout the galaxy, sending them on their own adventures across uncharted regions of space on unexplored planets.  I wanted more!

But now, we won't get more.  Sure, according to Bioware, there will be more Mass Effect games.  They've said from the beginning that the trilogy would be the entirety of Shepard's story, but that they would make other games in the same setting.  What they didn't say was that the end of Shepard's trilogy would bring an end to the entire setting as we know it.

Soldiers now can't bring things under control, because they have no Mass Relays to go anywhere.  Bounty hunters and young would-be heroes suffer the same problem.  Mass Effect, as we know the setting, no longer exists in any form.  That, of course, assumes the destruction of each Relay didn't obliterate all life in its respective star system (as they are demonstrated to do upon death).

What I'm trying to get at, and using far too many words to do so, is that the ending of Mass Effect 3 didn't bother me for any story, choice, character, or plot reasons.  Those all exist, and are bothersome.  Yet I could have overlooked them.  They'd have angered me as much as they do, but I could have gotten past them.  The real kick in the gut as I watched the credits roll, I've come to realize, was the understanding that there is no more Mass Effect.  We can't have more.  If there are any more games set in the franchise, they'll have to either be set during the existing trilogy or, if post-Reaper Invasion, be completely unrecognizable to the Mass Effect we know.  Neither of these are satisfying.

The former option doesn't satisfy because we now know exactly how hopeless any struggle for hope really is.  It's one thing I keep hearing from other Mass Effect fans.  Some are perfectly able to replay the trilogy without a hitch but many others, myself included, are unable to do so.  My enjoyment of the moments within the games aren't diluted in any way, but I can't find any hope in them at all because I know that, in the end, Mass Effect will die completely.  It will end.  There is literally no hope.

Not to mention, of course, the problem of piling story after story onto the same frame of time.  The Star Wars franchise has seen its share of this problem.

The latter option doesn't satisfy because if we play a Mass Effect game, we want to play a fucking Mass Effect game.  I know I do, at least.  A setting where synthetic and organic life are one type of super-being sounds really interesting, but it isn't Mass Effect.  A setting in which all synthetic life has been obliterated sounds boring, and isn't Mass Effect.  A setting wherein synthetics have been mind-controlled to do....something....is ambiguous, and it isn't Mass Effect.  A galaxy without Mass Relays is not Mass Effect.  Fuck, the Relays have been one of the primary identifying images of the franchise since inception.

So there.  That's what my problem really is with the ending to Mass Effect 3, as I've come to identify it.  I suppose I owe Bioware some kind of gratitude, in a strange way.  I've been developing my own settings, of course, with the intent of ending the setting itself in a final and unalterable way.  This, I feel, is no longer something I can do.  When I first thought of it, I thought it sounded like a really fascinating idea.  I imagined it would stimulate dialogue about possibilities, shock and delight people who thought it wouldn't really happen, and shake my readers out of complacency in an interesting way because normally the heroes always save the day.  I can't do that now.  I've felt what they would feel.

I want to think that the Bioware team thought, as the built ME3, much as I did about my setting.  I really hope they've seen what I now see.  Ending a beloved franchise doesn't spark debate, shockingly delight, or shake from complacency.  It just damages any enjoyment of the franchise because...well, fuck, it's all already over, isn't it?

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Rambling - Ignorance, Love, Pain

Well, it's over.

I generally like to stay informed on the gaming hobby as a whole; the movements of various developers, corporate actions of publishers, innovations and concepts, plus a whole general slew of things that generally won't appeal to anyone who isn't interested in the design of games in its own right as an activity.  As a result, I tend to be fairly well-informed about upcoming titles.

For some reason, in the summer and fall of 2007, there was a hole in my knowledge of upcoming events.  I honestly wouldn't be able to say why.  Maybe I was distracted by other things (I was living without a roommate at that point and pulling extra hours to cover rent), maybe I simply rolled a bunch of 1's and missed every relevant article, but somehow I ended up being completely unaware of an upcoming title called Mass Effect.  By all rights, I certainly should have been.  Baldur's Gate was and is one off my favorite games, and KotOR stands high as one of the best games ever made.  Given my distaste for the standard ideal for Japanese-made RPGs, as well as games that focused on gameplay in place of story, here was Bioware as the champions of story dictating gameplay, and choice being given a prominent place.

My first indication of this thing called Mass Effect didn't even really ping my radar.  A friend of mine mentioned the game being made, and I even saw a teaser trailer leading in to a special showing of a BSG special on the big screen (I think it was Razor, but my memory could be off).  For some reason, none of it stuck.  The game just didn't settle into the "GET EXCITED, GEEK!" part of my brain.  As a result, I was not ready.  I genuinely wasn't excited for Mass Effect when it was released, and can't even remember the impetus for which I bought it, other than "it is a game, therefore I must play it."

So I made my first character.  Being that the vast majority of RPGs tend to favor hack-n-slash combat over tactical, and thinking that this strange "biotics" the character creator talked about sounded an awful lot like magic, I went with the assumption that the gameplay would be easier for a soldier than an adept (being that, in most RPGs, a wizard gets killed right and left while a fighter can barrel through most of it).  I figured a soldier would be an easy-mode way to get the story on an initial playthrough, and went that route.  Messing around with things, I ended up with a female soldier, earthborn because it sounded gritty, sole survivor because it sounded harsh.  Figuring she was a career-minded girl dedicated to her job as her only escape from a harsh earlier life, I gave her a shaved head and pale skin (doesn't see planet-side much).  I named her Samantha, and went off to adventure in the galaxy.

The artifact that gave her a vision, the adorable little quarian in the citadel, the silly asari scientist I met in a dig site, giving that dramatic speech to my crew, leaving a friend to die on Virmire, that conversation with Sovereign, falling in love with a geeky blue girl, that final end-run with Sovereign ever imposing and ever closer.

When the credits rolled, I sat in shock.  Nothing had prepared me for Mass Effect.  I hadn't pored over pre-release interviews and dev diaries.  There was no foreknowledge of anything at all; not gameplay, not story, not characters, not thematic elements.  Nothing.  After the credits finished, for three days I was at a loss.  Some people might give me shit for this, but for three days I couldn't play other games; they weren't good enough.  I couldn't watch movies; they weren't good enough.  Couldn't read books, either.  I couldn't even start a replay of Mass Effect, because I didn't want to lose the tremendous high on which the game had left me.  Later, when I did try subsequent plays, I found I had a very unexpected problem.  So attached had I become to my character, that I couldn't playthrough as anyone else, nor could I make different decisions.

Samantha Lynn Shepard.  Grew up on the streets of west-coast North America.  Did what she had to survive, even ran with a gang for a while, and got out at the first opportunity.  Joined the Navy with a fake ID (she's three years younger than her service file would suggest), discovered she liked soldiering and had a talent for gunplay, and promptly saw her unit on Akuze get wiped out.  Sam survived, thrived, and found herself in the right place at the right time to be the savior of the galaxy.  She's a good person, to her core, but she's also harder than anyone she's met; she'd put a bullet in your head to save the rest of your family.  Do the horrible things that must be done, because that's what a hero is.

I waited for Mass Effect 2.  I practically frothed.  Realizing that my lack of foreknowledge about ME1 had been part of why the game hit me so hard, I deliberately avoided anything and everything I could.  Yet still, I frothed.  I chomped my bit like a raging animal, and I couldn't get my hands on that game soon enough.  The day before it was released, my friend Kris and I stayed up all night watching our package track from Amazon, chattering at each other via Google Wave.  We pulled hair out when our package seemed to not be moving, or went in a direction that indicated it might take longer to get here.  We wondered what might happen, how the story might progress, and how characters might react.  Then the package finally showed up at my door, and I asked my roommates to provide food for me the next few days.

That horrifically glorious opening scene, Joker's return and the SR2's reveal, realizing Garrus is Sam's best friend, hugging Tali when she finds her father, Jack holding her own against the swarms and then hurling a wave of rage and hate at them to clear the room, that reaper baby, defeating the Shadow Broker, wiping out an entire star system.

During the final segments of ME2, I was literally on the edge of my chair, face less than two feet away from a 47" television.  I knew that ME2 was touted as a suicide mission, and I was terrified for my beloved companions.  Every time Tali begged me to hurry and open the next vent, I couldn't shoot collectors fast enough; they had to die now now now and I had to hit that next switch and Tali was burning and I had to get them the fuck out of my way this very second.  Sam even progressed and had a bit of an arc in this one.  She grew her hair out (since she's not in the Navy anymore, why bother), and realized she's in it for her crew now.  It became less about "I wanna be a badass because that's how I survive" and more "I wanna be a badass and stand between my crew and the enemy."  She remained the silver-hearted badass; wiping out the batarian system is entirely what she would have chosen to do, and in my mind she watched the wave sweep across that system not because she had to, but because she chose to.  She makes the hard decisions, and then doesn't let herself ignore the consequences.

I waited for Mass Effect 3.  It simply could not come fast enough.  I devoured every tiny morsel of information that Bioware sent our way yet, as before, if anything even felt like it might hint at story elements I flung it away from me like a chunk of living disease set to infect me.  Despite my own misgivings about story spoilers, I even played the demo because I just couldn't wait for another ounce of Mass Effect.  Kris and I again fretted, via text this time, going into near panic when it seemed our games wouldn't be delivered in time.  When they did, we began playing in earnest, texting away like teenage girls as we gushed over the gameplay, the story elements, and wonderful moments as they came one after another, after another, and another, and another.

That opening scene of reapers on Earth, shooting Mordin in the back and betraying all krogan and crying to gain salarian aid, saying goodbye to Garrus in a wonderful way, saving the quarians to hear Tali so joyful, saving the geth and being so proud, shooting Wrex and crying when he learned the truth, that failure at Thessia, making the assault on Earth and knowing I'd die in the process.  That ending.

My gut still twists when I think of the ending.  Everything about Mass Effect has been glorious from the first moment of character creation in the first game; when it thrusts you into the world by turning the character creation screen into an Alliance database error.  Everything about every game was amazing, engaging, and wonderful.  Right up through the desperate, ugly battle in London.  Right through that glorious charge down the hill toward the beam, reapers tearing apart everything and everyone around you.  Right through slogging along with no strength left, just a pistol to force your way to a Pyrrhic victory.  Right through talking The Illusive Man down, or at least shooting his delusional ass right the fuck off.  Right through Shepard dragging herself, bloody and hopeless, to that last console.  But not past that.  Never past that.

I do not understand, and unless some major revelation comes very soon, I will never understand.  Bioware carried my emotions to greater heights than any video game of any genre or platform has ever done.  They made me care about my character more thoroughly than I can care about any protagonist of a movie or book.  They made me care about my character's friends, who are her family.  By the time of ME3, Sam had let loose just a bit more--primarily influenced by her relationship with Liara, but partly because she had stopped caring so much about the military as a way of life--and even gotten a bit more sun.  Her world fascinates me, inspires me, and excites me.  I love the species, the locations, the history, the technology, I even love the politics of Mass Effect.  And then....and then that ending.  The ending that literally undoes all of it.  The species become irrelevant, the locations become unavailable, the history is made pointless, the technology is rendered useless or outright destroyed, and the politics become entirely nonexistent no matter which of the so-called choices I pick.  The decisions I made through three games which, granted, shaped my story in a wonderfully personalized way, have no bearing on that so-called ending.

I had planned, as anyone who scrolls down this blog might notice, to write some Mass Effect fan fiction as an exercise to get myself writing on a more regular basis.  I decided to hold off on it, considering I didn't know how ME3 ended and I didn't want to jump the gun.  Figuring I would wait until after playing the game, I put my writing on hold until I knew how the story unfolded; I wanted to be sure my fiction didn't conflict with the state of the galaxy once the reapers were defeated.

Never, not for even an instant, did I suspect that Bioware would completely undo everything.  The entire setting.  It was said they were setting up a franchise.  Well what kind of franchise did they leave?  There is nothing left of the Mass Effect I might recognize.  Depending on which of the three staggeringly different endings become canon (which in itself is a fucking insult to the idea of my choices being important), the Mass Effect franchise that continues in the future will be nothing like the one with which I have fallen in love.

Everything about Mass Effect was perfect.  Right up until that last tiny little bit.

Now I don't know what to do.

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Mass Effect: Olympus - 07

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20:41 Hours - September 10 - 2194

The medical bay was quiet, sterile, and still.  Captain Liao stood motionless, arms crossed, watching the still form of the quarian within the protective environmantal bubble the med-techs had erected around him.  The material was light blue, opaque, and she didn't have any more idea what a quarian looked like underneath their suits than she did yesterday.  Though not a terribly horrible thing of which to be unaware, Dai found herself frustrated.

Part of her hated that she was so concerned with what the quarian looked like; there were more important things about which to worry.  Security, for one, since it was clearly so simple for a stow-away to climb into a cargo container and make it on board without being discovered.  The launch of her ship, for another, with a great many departments to organize and less than a month in which to prepare them.  More importantly, the fact that the young man was clearly on the brink of death; his appearance should be the last thing Dai was thinking about.

Still, he was a quarian.  It was the same with both quarians and volus; Dai couldn't help but wonder what they looked like.  Everyone wants what they can't have, so the old saying went, and as far as Dai knew she had no way of knowing what a quarian looked like.  It would be so simple to open the protective bubble and take just a peek, but doing so risked allowing some type of airborne germs into the area.  Though not a problem for anyone else board the ship, and likely not even life-threatening for the quarian, an illness at a time like this might tip the balance out of his favor.

Behind her, the medical bay door opened, and Dai turned to see her executive officer.  They exchanged silent waves, and the big man moved to stand beside her.  Both watched the quarian for a few moments.

"Any change?"  Karl asked.

"Not since they stopped the bleeding," Dai replied.  "Doctor Peters says he should be safe to move by morning, but that we can't do much for him until then.  We're just not equipped to deal with quarian physiology."  The Captain held a hand to her head and gave a sigh.  "We haven't even launched yet, and already this command has drawn blood."

"Can't be all bad, can it?  He's alive."  Karl shrugged and gave a little smile.

"The human isn't.  He died about half an hour ago, in the operating room."

"Fuck."  Karl went silent again as the two officers watched the recovering quarian.  Both wondered about what had happened.  If the quarian was somehow to blame for the death of a human, this incident could have political ramifications.  Given recent galactic events, this was not the time for these kinds of problems.

"So what did the security report say?"  Dai finally asked.

"Oh, right.  That's why I came down, actually."  Karl pulled a datapad from his belt and handed it to the Captain, explaining the basics as she skimmed over it.  "Short version is they don't know.  Security cameras coincidentally malfunctioning in the area where shots were heard, no forthcoming witnesses, and the only security guard on duty was the kid we found with the quarian here."  He gave a heavy sigh.  "He was barely eighteen."

"Not anymore," Dai said, flipping the datapad off.  "Come on Karl, let's let this one sleep."  Dai turned and left the room, with Karl not far behind.  Neither said anything as they walked through the corridors and made their way to the command deck.

Other than a few last-minute stragglers making final touches in various areas of the ship, workers from the Olympus' construction had cleared out during the day.  Finalizing their reports and giving them the go-ahead to clear out had taken all of Dai's time, and left her with a pounding headache.  Yet with them gone, and the staggering majority of ship's crew yet to arrive, the Olympus was eerily silent and empty.  Their foot steps echoed through the corridors, which quietly hummed with the passive might of the dreadnaught's tremendous engines.  Where once had been a teeming mass of construction workers and robots, now was only two worried officers in a very lonely ship.

Nearing the command deck, Dai turned from the main corridor toward the communications room.  Attached to the comm room, wherein was contained holo-units that could be used to reach command personnel both on the Citadel and back on Earth, was one of many meeting rooms scattered about this level of the ship.  Waiting within one of the rooms, the turian Termidus sat in a chair.  He stood to attention when the two humans entered.

"Captain Liao, Commander Ostermann," he said respectfully.  Dai noted that he refrained from saluting.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Dai said with a smile.  She sat at the conference table, across from Termidus, and Karl sat a couple seats down from her.  "This is just an informal meeting.  I wanted to get to know you, seeing as you're going to be my security chief come tomorrow morning."

If Dai could read turian expressions at all, she would say the man was surprised.  "Captain?"  His voice made it obvious.

"I know, sensitive positions and all that, your orders said the same thing mine did.  Well I just came from the med bay, where a young turian is dying and a young human is dead."  Dai gave a small sigh, and her jaw set.  "Command has a point when they tell me not to put aliens in positions of security, but I think their point is wrong."

"Respectfully, Captain, just to play the advocate," Termidus said slowly, "some would say you have a right to keep human interests foremost."

"I think the war we just fought says otherwise," Karl interjected.  The turian looked between the two humans, and Dai nodded her affirmation.

"You're a trained officer, served in your own Navy for the past ten years and you've held this type of position before."  Dai looked down at her hands, then back up at the turian.  "I'll be perfectly honest, I only made this decision today.  Had a little talk with the volus on board--on whom I suggest you keep an eye, by the way--and he made me realize something."

"Captain?"

"If I don't trust you good folk in sensitive posisions, I shouldn't even let you on my ship."

"The volus...he said that?"  Termidus sounded half shocked and half amused.

"No," Dai was thoughtful.  "I just think it's the way this ship seems to be going."

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This is a work of fan fiction, intended for the amusement of myself and those reading it.  I am in no way affiliated with Bioware, Electronic Arts, or anyone else who has any official say over the Mass Effect franchise.

Also!  This work is an effort by yours truly to force myself to write 1,000 words of fiction each and every single day.  Without exception.  It isn't planned, or plotted, or pre-thought, I literally pull this stuff from my ass.  The quality of writing may reflect that origin.

Like my words?  Buy my stuff!

Also, please support my facebook page and follow me on twitter!

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Mass Effect: Olympus - 06

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16:30 Hours - September 9 - 2194

Dai was already through the elevator hatch before it had already slid open.  After a long trip through several corridors, many interruptions to deal with the significant number of complications involved with running a brand new ship (let alone a ship of such considerable size) she had finally made it to the hangar deck.  She was not too much delayed, the trip would have taken her a bit of time anyway given the length of the trip, but she was aggravated by this minor delay all the same.

Her conversation with Topri Von had been troubling.  Though he hadn't said much, what he did say had Dai wondering just who had assigned him to this ship and why.  If he was an analyst, of any kind, he was likely associated with sensitive topics of information, and she had been specifically informed that the high brass, and especially Intelligence leaders, didn't want the alien members of her crew attached to anything that might be considered sensitive.  Yet now there was a volus claiming to be an analyst, and being frustratingly vague about it to boot.

"What's the problem?"  Dai asked, as she entered the hangar.  Karl was already there, surrounded by the deck chief and a Lieutenant who looked as if he hadn't slept in three days.  Given the busy schedule lately, that seemed likely.

Karl looked relieved to see the Captain, and he immediately turned her direction.  "You should take a look at the supply crates we just got, Captain."

Dai gave him a questioning look, but the big man just raised his eyebrows with a "you'll see" expression, and motioned to her right.  Suppressing a frustrated growl, Dai turned and followed where he indicated, led by the tired Lieutenant and the nervous deck chief.

"We haven't touched 'em, ma'am," the deck chief was saying as they walked.  "They showed up like this, and I called the Lieutenant, and now here we are."

"Don't worry..." Dai looked back at him questioningly.

"Service Chief Felden, ma'am," he supplied.

"Chief Felden.  I'm sure everything is in order as far as you and your crew are concerned.  Now what happened?"

"Well they got shot up, ma'am," the chief said, and as they rounded a group of high-stacked cargo containers, Dai saw the chief meant exactly that.  A set of cargo containers, surrounded by curious deck personnel who quickly either snapped to attention or dispersed at the sight of their commanding officer, had clearly been riddled with small arms fire.  Heavy gouges were dug in from several angles, and many direct hits could be seen, there were even a few scorch marks from apparent explosions, either missiles or grenades she couldn't tell.

"Harbor security claims they don't know how it happened, Captain," the weary Lieutenant supplied, in an equally weary voice.  "They do have an incident report of gunfire in the temporary holding bay last night.  No arrests, no conclusion, but I'd guess whatever happened was right around our containers.  Harbor sent these up on the last shuttle, probably hoping we wouldn't notice in the rush.  Almost didn't."

"Whatever happened to these containers didn't happen around them, it involved them specifically," Dai added, walking around the most heavily damaged container.  "These aren't stray shots, whoever had the guns was shooting directly at the container."  She ran a hand across the bullet-ridden surface, wondering exactly what happened.  "What's in here?  Actually, I should probably ask, what's supposed to be in here?"  She exchanged a look with Karl, who appeared equally concerned.

"Generator parts, Captain," the Lieutenant replied.  "Nothing vital, just backup equipment."

"Open it," Dai stepped back, motioning to the container with her arms.  Karl stepped to her side.

"Shouldn't we have a security detail here?"  He asked quietly.

"Not if it's what I think it is," she replied.  "I think we have a stow-away, with trouble attached."

"That's exactly my point, Captain."

"We'll be fine," Dai said, holding a hand out.  She just hoped she was right about that part.

By then, the chief had organized three nearby gawking deck personnel into a work detail, and they had the side of the container unlocked.  With one last grind of metal and the sound of sliding support bars, the container slid open.  Boxes of parts were stacked high, large and small.  Nestled within them, tucked between to of the larger boxes near the side of the container, was a quarian male.  Just beyond him, the crumpled form of a human male.  Both men had been shot multiple times, and were laying in a pool equal parts human blood, quarian blood, and fluids from the quarian's environment suit.

Amid the exclamations of shock from the crew, the quarian raised his head almost imperceptibly.  Seeing a group of humans staring at him in mixed parts shock and horror, he raised one hand weakly in their direction.  It looked like he was trying to speak, judging from the faint flickering of light at the front of his helmet, but he never managed to get out any words.  Instead, his head slowly slumped back down, and his hand dropped to the floor of the container, resting in the puddle beneath the two mean.

"Med-bay.  Now."  Dai commanded, her voice heavy with authority and adrenaline.  The Lieutenant, weary as he was, had already left for the nearest comm unit.  Both Dai and Karl approached the canister.  Dai waved back several deck crew who had moved forward to help.  "No, don't touch them," she ordered.  "The quarian's suit is ruptured, we could kill him."

"Medical emergency, medical emergency!  Trauma team to forward hangar two!"  The Lieutenant's voice no longer sounded tired, as the shock of the sight in the container sent everyone's adrenaline skyrocketing.

Karl and the deck chief kept watch, and even ordered nearby personnel to cordon off the area.  Dai walked gingerly into the container, stepping carefully over a box and past the legs of the quarian, careful not to disturb anything.  Looking them over, it seemed that both men were still breathing.

"Welcome to the Olympus," she said with a sigh.  "Hang in there, boys."

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This is a work of fan fiction, intended for the amusement of myself and those reading it.  I am in no way affiliated with Bioware, Electronic Arts, or anyone else who has any official say over the Mass Effect franchise.

Also!  This work is an effort by yours truly to force myself to write 1,000 words of fiction each and every single day.  Without exception.  It isn't planned, or plotted, or pre-thought, I literally pull this stuff from my ass.  The quality of writing may reflect that origin.

Like my words?  Buy my stuff!

Also, please support my facebook page and follow me on twitter!

More importantly; tell other people about my work!

Mass Effect: Olympus - 05

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16:03 Hours - September 9 - 2194

Topri Von waddled down the passageway at a liesurely, unhurried pace.  The short, stocky alien looked curiously at the ship around him through the lenses of his mask, viewing this human environment from the safety of his pressurized environment suit.  Some of the crew personnel he passed would give him curious looks, and he would wave to them with his little three-clawed power glove.  Others would wave cheerfully at him, and he would wave back at them as well.  Overall, Topri was enjoying himself.

Of particular enjoyment to the industry-fascinated volus, many aspects of the ship's design seemed to be less than economically efficient.  Everything was all very sturdy, and looked quite capable, but to the young businessman's eyes he could already see seventeen different ways in which the construction cost more money than it should have; materials from known overpriced vendors being the primary issue.

A small commotion among the crew alerted him to the presence of a high-ranking officer behind him, and Topri halted his waddle.  With small shuffling movements, he turned around to greet Captain Liao, raising his little three-clawed power glove to wave at the human female; asian, likely Chinese, of an old family line.  Eighty-three possible families came immediately to mind, as Topri studied the Captain's posture, comparing it with her behavior during the recent meeting with the frightened turian, the angry salarian, and the dangerous asari.  Having narrowed the Captain's possible ancestry down to eight distinct family lines, Topri realized the woman was within socially comfortable speaking range.

"Uh, hello, Captain," he said.  Like most volus, he spoke slowly, somewhat haltingly, and sounded a bit congested.

"Hello again Topri," the officer smiled.  As a volus, Topri was probably the only person aboard the SSV Olympus who was shorter than its commanding officer.  She stopped in front of him, and though she took time to acknowledge and smile at passing crew, it was clear that Topri had her full attention.  It was a marvelous trick she did, dividing her attentions that way without sacrificing etiquette.  Topri noted this ability positively.

The Captain continued speaking.  "I did get a chance, back at the group meeting, to talk to you about your assignment here.  I have to admit, that unfortunately my superiors haven't told me exactly where aboard the Olympus they intended you to serve."  She was holding back many words, it was evident.  Likely it was the confusion brought about by the assignment of a volus, among the least physically capable species in the galaxy, assigned to a ship of war.  Captain Liao did a remarkable job of concealing her confusion however, and expressing her question in the least offensive way possible.

"Oh, nowhere special," Topri replied.  He gave a little shrug of his shoulders, which moved his entire sturdy environment suit.

"Well, what's your area of expertise?  Where were you trained?"  Topri saw a tick of concern in the Captain's eyes, and wondered about it for an instant.  Which was, for him, quite a bit of consideration.  He was forced to conclude that the Captain was having a trying day, and the presence of a volus about whom she had not been informed was irritating her.

"Nothing specific," the young volus replied with a sigh of effort.  Her irritation twitched in that right eye again, and so Topri continued.  "If you like, um, I can spend time on, the command deck.  You'll see what I'm good at, fairly quickly I'm sure."

"Are you a trained deck officer, then?  I wasn't really given much to go on."  Apparently Topri's comment had piqued the human's curiosity, and her irritation was pushed to the back.  She was now more intrigued than not, and she was genuinely curious as to exactly what skills the volus was referring.

"Well," Topri began, "I'm kind of an analyst."

"An analyst...what type?  Personnel, tactical, or intelligence, maybe?"

"Yes," Topri answered.  "For a start."

The human's brow furrowed a bit, partly in surprise but primarily in returned irritation.  Topri headed off any further discussion of the subject.  "Captain, there is a disturbance, uh, on the hangar deck," he spoke before the human could say anything.  Mere seconds after he spoke, the ship's intercom cracked to life.

"Captain Liao, to forward hangar two.  Captain Liao, forward hangar two," a voice spoke.

Dai looked at the volus with a dangerous mix of confusion, suspicion, surprise, and amazement.  In reply the volus pointed to the side of his helmet.  "Monitoring comms," was his only response.  The Captain didn't have time to question further, but she seemed hesitant to leave at just this moment.  "You should go," he prompted.

"Please do join me on the command deck," the Captain said, as she began to turn and leave, "I'll have a spot for you, and we'll see if we can't find a use for a...an analyst, as you said."  She made an effort to be friendly, but it was clear she was slightly put off by Topri's responses and foreknowledge of events on her own ship.  The volus sighed to himself quietly in his suit, the good mood he'd been enjoying slightly dampened.  He hadn't intended to upset the Captain, he liked her.  She was friendly, cared about her crew, and well equipped for the job ahead.  Clearly, he would need to put time into undoing the potential damage he'd just done with any eventual friendship that might be possible.

For a few moments, the volus stood in the hallway and let crew personnel wander past him.  He did not respond to them as they looked or waved, but was lost in thought as he wondered about the possibilities of this upcoming venture.  Eventually he did begin to walk again, in his slow and waddling manner, shuffling to turn the other direction and head towards the nearest elevator.  He boarded quietly, giving a small wave to the crewman standing near the control panel.  "Deck eight, please," he said.

"Sure thing," the crewman said, and complied with a smile.  Topri conversed with the young man on the elevator ride down, but his mind was busy the entire time.  He was distracted.  There was much to consider.

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Mass Effect: Olympus - 04

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14:00 Hours - September 9 - 2194

Captain Liao and Commander Ostermann made their way through passageways, hatches, compartments, and elevators as they traveled through the massive starship.  Most of their journey took place along what was informally referred to as The Line.  Technically it was the Firing Line Parallel Compartments, but that was simply a construction term that had very little relevance to the ship's future life.  Crew, however, tended to refer to the compartments and passageways along the ship's central main gun as The Line.  It ended up, more often than not, being a focal point for meetings and off-duty activity.

Even now, with the ship still uncommissioned and with only a tiny fraction of her full crew, the line was busy with activity.  Though there were scant few sleeping quarters along the line, many of the widest passageways stretched along or wrapped around the ship's central gun.  Newly arrived crew gravitated here; whether old hands familiar with the function of the line or new recruits unfamiliar with most onboard traditions, the line was simply a place where people ended up.  The Olympus' gun was quite simply her physical, tactical, and societal heart.

The two ranking officers aboard the ship found themselves greeted by excited crew personnel who were settling in and getting to know each other.  Karl replied to each greeting with a friendly, if formal smile and nod.  In contrast, Dai was practically a social butterfly.  She smiled brightly to her crew, answered questions swiftly enough that she didn't need to slow her pace, and made a point to ask the names of several personnel along the way.  Tradition referred to people like Dai as "the soldier's officer," and she was proud of that.

Within a reasonable amount of time, the two officers reached one of the berthing areas, designated for officers and visiting dignitaries.  Turning down a passageway marked with a dark blue deck, in contrast to the standard steel gray found throughout most of the ship, they passed a sign on the bulkhead that read "Officers Only."  Karl barely even noticed the sign, and was surprised to find that his Captain was no longer leading the way.  Looking back, he saw the small woman glaring up at the sign.  She looked over at him.

"I don't have anything with me to pry that off.  Can you get it?"

Karl blinked a few times, and looked at the sign.  He thought at first to question why, but the man was quick.  Without a word, he reached for the sign and yanked at it with his hand.  Though built of sturdy material, in a multi-alloy bulkhead designed to withstand the stresses of interstellar flight and tremendous kinetic impact, the adhesive bonding them was no match for the big man's powerful grip.  The sign came down with an audible ripping sound, drawing the attention of nearby personnel.  Captain Liao smiled cheerfully.

"Thank you, Commander," she said with genuine warmth.  Leading the way again, she headed into the berthing area to find her newest crew members.  The task was not overly difficult.  Some way down the corridor, the voice of a young woman could be heard chattering away happily.

"These rooms are much more spartan than I was expecting, but not as bad as I had heard about human vessels.  I like that they each have their own bathrooms, that makes everything so much less complicated.  Do you think the corridors in this part of the ship are less echoey than the rest of the ship?  I do, I hardly hear any echo at all in here."

Dai and Karl rounded a corner into a small, open rest area for officers.  Relatively comfortable couches were arranged in a near-full circle around a small holographic display, and a row of computers on the far bulkhead allowed for easy access to the extranet during off hours.  Along the couch were arranged four people.  The first, a turian male listening with amusement to the chatterbox next to him; a small blue asari woman fiddling with her head tails as she spoke.  Just a few spots down from the asari was a salarian who appeared to be reigning in the desire to forcibly silence the young woman.  Directly across the circle from the other three, a volus sat as best he could on a human-made couch, legs sticking out rather adorably.  He was the first to see the two humans round the corner.

"Um," he managed to say, in that slow way that volus tend to speak, raising a finger to point.  The others turned to look, and all three immediatly stood up.

"Captain, it is a pleasure," the turian said, instantly snapping to attention and giving a salute.

"You're the Captain!"  The asari exclaimed.  "It's wonderful to meet you, I'm Kimila, these two are Termidus and Kiran, and that's Topri," she waved her hand toward the volus, even turning to give him an excited smile.

"It's wonderful to meet you all," Dai said, returning Termidus' salute.  "On Alliance vessels we don't actually salute while indoors, but I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Metridus."

"Blast, and I remember reading that now that you mention it.  It won't happen again, Captain," the turian scowled.

"It's fine, don't worry about it.  Today is fairly informal, I just wanted to meet the four of you, and it's nice that you're all here in one spot."

"I was hoping we would meet you today as well, Captain," Kiran, the salarian, jumped in as the asari opened her mouth to say something.  "It seems our berthings have been mixed up, the document says I'm bunked with...with this young lady."  He nodded his head toward the asari, who smiled cheerfully, seemingly unbothered by the interruption.

"I apologize, Lieutenant, but we're going to be full up as soon as we leave port.  We will have individual berthings for both you and Ms. Danagi within a few months."

The salarian made a face, at least as far as Dai could tell, and she smiled sympathetically.  Opening her mouth to speak, she had to catch a laugh at the look Kimila gave her new bunkmate.

"Don't worry Kiran, I never snore, and I don't sleep much anyway."  She seemed genuinely concerned for the other's peace of mind, which apparently only irritated him.  He gave a curt nod to the Captain, and returned to standing at attention.  Already, Dai liked this bunch.

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Mass Effect: Olympus - 03

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13:40 Hours - September 9 - 2194

The heels of her dress uniform clacked lightly against the deck plates as Dai hurried through the corridor.  Workers nodded and greeted her as she passed, crew personnel quickly slid to the side to let her pass.  The Captain returned workers' greetings, and made a point to acknowledge each member of the crew, few and far between though they currently were.   As she neared the bridge, there were more crew than workers, and by the time she passed through the archway onto her command deck, she was surrounded entirely by the fresh-faced young crew of her new dreadnaught.

Around her, activity was the watchword of the day as the command deck veritably buzzed with enlisted personnel busy with the task of getting a brand new dreadnaught up to launch status.  Men and women at their stations worked swiftly, communicating with each other and with personnel in other sections of the ship as they organized their activities.  Each station was taking the time and putting all their energy into finalizing preparations for launch in just a few short days.

"Captain on deck!"  Called a nearby young officer.

"As you were," Dai replied, letting everyone get back to what they were doing.  She took a moment to stand and gaze around the command deck, taking everything in.  Navigation personnel were downloading and updating the latest star charts, and coordinating with the helmsmen for calibrations.  Combat personnel were running diagnostics on each of the weapons systems, speaking busily with each individual weapons group around various sections of the ship; they were eager to test the ship's weapons, but to their regret that would have to wait until after they left port.  Personnel in Sensors, Security, Comms, and the many other departments necessary for running such a large vessel were equally busy at their assigned tasks.

Dai felt a rush of energy surge up her spine, and she desperately wanted to run full tilt around the command room, or jump into the air screaming for joy, or grab the nearest person and dance wildly about the room.  Her excitement was overwhelming, and she found herself almost hopping in place she was so desperate to express it,  but she managed to keep it contained to a bright smile and a brisk pace when she resumed her walk to the center of the command deck.  Surrounded by Navigation personnel, as well as her new executive officer, the galaxy map wasn't yet online but its position in the center of the room would eventually serve as the place form which she commanded the ship.  Standing at the map, with her personal computer in arm's reach, she looked around again at the entire command deck that surrounded her.

"My dreadnaught," she whispered to herself, letting out a steady breath to calm herself.

"Pardon, Captain?"  Commander Ostermann asked, walking up from the other side of the map.  She smiled at him.

"Status report, Commander."  She managed to keep her voice relatively controlled, though her excitement was likely noticeable.  Not a terrible crime, given how excited most of the crew seemed to be.

"Joy across the board so far, ma'am," Karl replied.  He held out a datapad containing the reports that had been completed so far, and she glanced over it.  Karl continued his report as she read.  "Mr. Deschamps says within the hour his workers will be finished with those aft compartments he mentioned yesterday.  All civilians should be off ship by the end of the night.  How did everything go with the Senator?"

Finished with the report Dai looked up at her XO, towering over her.  She gave a tiny roll of her eyes that only he could see, and smirked.  "It went well enough, but the honorable Senator Brezhnev likes to talk."

Behind her, a young Lieutenant arrived, and stood at attention.  Dai turned and acknowledged him with a smile.  "Captain, Navigation reporting, all star charts downloaded and updated," he said, nervousness evident in his voice.

"Thank you Lieutenant, good work," Dai replied.  "Stevens, is it?  You're quite young for a Staff Lieutenant, your service record says you finished schooling with high marks."

Lieutenant Stevens smiled and blushed, and his youth showed.  "Yes ma'am, I know I'm young, but you won't have any problems with me.  I've been playing with stellar navigation since I was fourteen."

"I believe you," Dai said warmly, and nodded to dismiss him.  "Thank your crew for me, as well."

Stevens nodded gratefully, and Dai turned around to her XO again.  "Do me a favor, see if you can find the aliens I'm told arrived today, I'd like to meet them before launch if possible."  Ostermann nodded and turned to relay her order, while Dai focused her attention on the galaxy map before her.

Software fully downloaded and updated, the Navigation crew was now bringing up the visual core of what would be the central hub of their job aboard the Olympus.  A gigantic holographic representation of the known galaxy, marked with colonized planets, political borders, trade ports, military bases, and the all-important mass relays.  Dai let her gaze sweep across the hologram, watchin countless stars drift slowly in their circular pattern.  Her previous command, the SSV Sydney, had carried a similar map, but she never got tired of looking at it.  Here before her, somewhere she could reach out and touch, were all the stars sentient beings had found or seen in the entire galaxy.  She wanted to visit them all.

After a few moments, Ostermann returned to her side.  "All aliens are reported on board, ma'am..  Turian Termidus Metridus, asari Kimila Danagi, salarian Kiran, and a last minute addition, a volus named Topri Von."  His voice carried the surprise Dai felt, and she gave a little laugh that Ostermann echoed.

"Someone playing a joke on us, or am I misisng something"

"I have no idea Captain," Ostermann replied.  "Maybe he's a bit more military-oriented than other volus?"

Dai chuckled and gave a helpless shrug.  "Well, alright then.  Let's go meet our new friends, and find out what a volus can do aboard an Alliance dreadnaught."

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Mass Effect: Olympus - 02

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10:02 Hours - September 9 - 2194

With a small hiss of air, the hatch slid open and allowed entry.

"If you'll just step this way, sir," the young enlisted woman said, motioning to the corridor that opened up before them.  Busy with workmen cleaning up the last of their tools, and a handful of military personnel either overseeing the operation of going about their own business, it was a rather crowded affair.

Following behind the smaller human, Termidus looked around.  The tall, well-build turian was cool and collected, never said a word as the humans stopped what they were doing to look at him.  He met each of their curious gazes with a nod, and proceeded on his way down the corridor behind the young woman.  What was her name?  Inwardly Termidus cursed himself, but at least he could recognize her rank, having studied human military when he learned of this posting.

"Serviceman," he spoke up in a heavy voice, "is the Captain not on board yet?"

"She is," the young woman spoke as they walked.  "She was going to meet you when you arrived, but a Senatorial delegation wanted to view the ship, so she'll meet you later this afternoon."

Termidus nodded, and continued to follow silently.  It was disconcerting to arrive at a new post without meeting his commanding officer, but he supposed this was just the first of many new things he would have to get used to.  This wasn't a standard post, after all.

As they walked through the various corridors, the turian continued to exchange nods with crew and workers that they passed.  He struck an imposing figure; his turian height over them was the first impression, and his fierce countenance with bone-plated face and sleek head spikes another.  Still, he did his best to appear nonthreatening, even amicable.  It was in this mindset that he first encountered Kimila.

Rounding a corner at breakneck speed, the small blue asari nearly collided head-on with the massive turian.  Only Termidus' quick reflexes, and the asari's sudden roll to the side, prevented the two of them from ending up in a heap on the floor.  Several nearby workers and crew were forced to dive against bulkheads as well, and the Serviceman who was escorting Termidus turned with a wide-eyed stare.

"Sir, are you alright?"  The young woman asked, even as the asari stood from where she had landed with a roll.  With a nod and a scowl, the turian reached down to help up the blue alien.  When he did, he was dumbfounded by the brightest, bluest, shiniest eyes ever to grace the galactic stage.  She gave a dazzling smile, blushing.

"Sorry about that, I was in a hurry to explore the whole ship and I didn't look where I was going.  The corners on these ships are really block compared to what I'm used to, and normally on asari ships I can see where I'm going a lot better."  The asari, who appeared young, spoke at a pace that nearly had Termidus' translator at a loss, and he gave a grunt of amusement.  She held out her hands, one to him and one to the Serviceman.  "Kimila Danagi, just got here this morning and I'm happy to meet you both."  The asari gave a little laugh as she shook their hands.  "Sorry I'm talking way too much, I do that, just tell me to be quiet if I get annoying.  My mother--"

"Kimila, please," Termidus said, holding up one hand gently.  The Serviceman next to him blanched, but the asasri didn't seem the slightest bit offended.  She just smiled, and nodded cheerfully.  Termidus looked back up and down the corridor, chuckling quietly to himself.  "So you're part of this whole new program too, I assume?"

"I am!  I'm so excited, this is a tremendous honor, and I can't wait until we launch, it's going to be the best!"  She looked over at the Serviceman.  "Are you taking him to his room?  I'm learning the layout of the ship, I could take him if you have other things to do, or I could come with you and tell him about things that a human might overlook.  Not that you might not know to point things out, but you know some things would be automatic for you and you might not think about pointing them out to someone who hasn't--"

Termidus held out a hand silently, and Kimila shut her mouth with a delighted giggle.  Clearly young, as Termidus had originally surmised, and very excited.  He smiled however, and looked to the equally amused Serviceman.  "It's your call, Serviceman, I haven't offically reported for duty yet."

With a smile and a shrug, the human woman gave a small laugh.  "Well, I'm happy to have you along, Ms. Danagi.  There aren't many crew aboard the ship yet anyway, so it'll be nice to talk to people who aren't workers on their way out."

Kimila clapped happily, and the trio began walking down the corridor again.  As they did the young asari chirpped happily about many various things around the ship she had discovered.  She told him about the engine room and its sheer size, exploring the shapes of corridors around the vessel's central gun, the smell of the mess deck, and how far along she was in counting the different structural frames from one end of the ship to the other.

"So what's your name, anyway?"  She asked at the end of a lenghy description of the medical deck.

"I apologize Ms. Danagi, I hadn't realized that I forgot to introduce myself earlier," the turian replied, giving a small salute.  "I am Termidus Metridus, third--" he stopped when the asari snickered, and gave her a scowl.  "I'm sorry, is there something funny?"

The asari blushed again, and gave a little shrug.  "That's...is that really your name?"

"It is."  His voice indicated his annoyance, and to her credit Kimila didn't push the matter further.  She did, however, have to bite her lip to maintain such an advanced level of etiquette.  Termidus made a face.  "You're very young, aren't you Kimila?"

"Hundred and thirteen three months ago!"  The asari beemed cheerfully.  Termidus exchanged a look with the human escorting them, and both of them shook their heads.

Kimila began to cheerfully regale them with tales of the adventures she'd had in the cargo bay.

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Mass Effect: Olympus - 01

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22:15 Hours - September 8 - 2194

Shots peppered the ground around him, and the wall just across form him, as Tolan rounded the corner.  Running far too fast to round easily, he slammed into the wall and grunted with the impact, pushing off again in an effort to maintain some sort of forward momentum.  He worried for just an instant that his suit might be damaged from the impact, but he had no time to stop and check.  Desperately the young quarian sprinted as fast as he could, as the cries of his pursuers drew closer.

Ahead of him stretched a long alleyway, devoid of much cover aside from a few trash canisters, and his heart sank.  There didn't seem to be anywhere he could hide, and his pursuers would round the corner any second.  The heads-up display of his mask warned him yet again of his elevated heart rate, and yet again he ignored it.  One bit of shadow up ahead looked like it might contain a doorway, and Tolan forced himself to maintain his sprinting pace.

Just as he reached his target spot, the mercenaries rounded the corner he had just passed, and almost instantly the alley was filled assault rifle fire.  Tolan felt his arm jolt, saw warning lights flare up across his HUD, and knew that he had been hit.  There was no time to react, as he frantically pressed the panel of the door in his little sheltered alcove.  His ancestors were with him, as the door opened swiftly and Tolan fell through it amidst a hail of gunfire, and the sound of gunshots on metal as the doorway closed again.

Knowing he had only seconds, Tolan activated his omni-tool and frantically scanned for the door code.  His fingers veritably flew over holographic keys, and within just a few rapid heartbeats he heard pounding on the door's other side, even as his omni-tool and the door gave echoing security beeps.  Tolan fell back onto the floor, almost sobbing in relief, his entire body shaking.  This was not how today was supposed to go.

The sound of a pistol sliding open and powering up sent electricity up the exhausted young quarian's spine.  He moved to roll onto his side and leap up, but a voice stopped him cold.

"Freeze!"  The man, a human, carried a pistol and wore what looked to be the uniform of a soldier.  Tolan didn't know enough about human military to even guess what branch the man was, or even if he was enlisted or officer.  In the long run, he figured it didn't really matter.

"Please, I was just trying to get away from the Blue Suns," he said, between panting breaths.  His helmet was working overtime to scrub the air fast enough for him to breathe

"Who the hell are you?"  The man asked.  He seemed frightened, almost as much as Tolan, and the quarian was simultaneously comforted and made uneasy by that assumption.  Slowly, he raised his hands and looked up from his prone position, trying his level best to appear as nonthreatening as he knew he was.

"My name is Tolan'var nar Kelif," he replied.  "I'm being chased by mercenaries, thugs, and I just wanted to hide."

Those same mercenaries were still pounding on the door less than a meter away from Tolan.  Their muffled curses could just be heard through the barrier.

"You a thief or something?"  The human asked.  Tolan winced inside his helmet.

"I...no.  Well, they think I am."  He sighed.  "I bought a small ship from a volus, and I think he stole it from someone, because they came after me."

A particularly loud thud hit the door, causing both Tolan and the human to jump.  They both looked at the door, and could hear someone working at the access panel.  Apparently the mercenaries were being paid enough for persistence.  Tolan looked up at the human.

"Please, I'm not here to cause trouble, please just let me go," he begged.

The human looked at him for several moments, visibly frustrated.  He seemed at a complete loss for what to do, until another loud bang at the door made his mind up for him.

"Get up.  Slowly!"  The last word was emphasized, and he waggled the pistol.  Tolan complied wordlessly, rolling onto his side and standing up.  He groaned with pain as the wound in his arm surged across his nervous system, and he wondered how bad the hit was.  According to his HUD the environment suit had successfully sealed off the breach, but he figured he would still pay the price later.  Once he was on his feet, the human moved to the side.

"Walk to the other side of the warehouse," he said.  Now that he could see the human at a proper angle, Tolan judged that they were about the same age; maybe Tolan was even a bit older (not that he was an expert at judging human adges, the man just seemed young).  Looking around, it made sense.  On the flotilla only the youngest quarians were saddled with boring duty such as guarding warehouses, and it seemed logical that humans would follow a similar pattern.

"What are you going to do?"  Tolan asked, as he slowly walked to a passageway between large crates.  He kept his hands clearly up at shoulder level on either side.  The human fell into step behind him, pistol shaking but never wavering.

"I'm taking you to the Lieutenant," the human replied.

Eager to be done with this whole thing, and hopeful that the human military might help him out of this situation, Tolan gave a sigh of relief.  Surely things would go better now that he could appeal to some authority figures, and explain his situation rather than being shot at.

With alarming suddenness, the thudding behind them stopped.  Both Tolan and the human stopped, the quarian turned, and the two exchanged a look.  Just as the human turned around, the doorway exploded inward completely in a massive ball of fire.  Both quarian and human were knocked prone, which saved their lives as gunfire filled the air.

"Keelah!"  Tolan exclaimed, and he dragged himself behind a crate.  The human followed him, and the two young men found themselves pinned by a withering hail of gunfire.

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This is a work of fan fiction, intended for the amusement of myself and those reading it.  I am in no way affiliated with Bioware, Electronic Arts, or anyone else who has any official say over the Mass Effect franchise.

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