Mass Effect 1. Chapter 1

John was your average teenager. But that was just what he would tell you. He wasn't the best at sport, but he certainly wasn't bad either. He was about 6ft tall, being average height for his peers with sandy brown hair and oddly coloured eyes, that noone could quite describe the colour. They were a deep green, much like that found within woodland, except that from a distance they appeared to be blue, due to a ring of aqua coloured iris surrounding the green. Strangely he also had four dark brown spots of pigment in his left eye, not large enough to see from a distance, but they added a sort of depth and mystery to his eyes. He never thought of himself as an intelligent person but, undeniably he was although, he lacked the friend circles that many of his peers had at his school and (he thought) because of this, all of the girls ignored him - at least all of the prettier ones anyway.

It was an ordinary yet unusual day for him. Maybe he woke up a little early, but that was expected as he was sitting the last of his school exams, and his nerves were starting to kick in. Fascinated by too many subjects to count, John had painfully selected the four of his favourite: Engineering, Biology, Physics and Computing. Normally, each and every day he was completely enthralled in every part of each subject - and he was good too; if there was anything he didn't know or understand, he would either consult the internet for background information before prying the rest from his teachers, or would simply read extensively on the subject, becoming lost in books and documents, but successfully becoming an expert in the topic.

But today was different. It was his very last exam, before being freed from school forever, and then he would search for something to interest him for a year before finding a job in 'the real world'. His thoughts were consumed by home, even though they should be directed at the Engineering paper that was sitting in front of him. He looked down, saw a diagram of a net engine, and read the question: Explain, using correct terminology, how the engine uses fuel efficiently.

He knew what it was asking. He had to write about the fuel consumption to energy output ratio, while explaining how the main parts of the engine work when put together. This was easy stuff, but it demanded his full attention and so he wrote as quickly as he could so he could get back to being in his countryside home, so close to the sea...

Something caught his eye. Light had been flooding into the open gymnasium that was now an exam hall and someone was reflecting the light off of a transparent ruler. He lost himself in the dancing colours; their strangeness throwing him, halting his mental tracks. Hearing footsteps in the echoing room he snapped his head forward, to find there was just over 10 minutes left in the exam. Rushing, he flipped over the page only to find it was blank. It took him a moment to realise he had finished and, checking his answers, he realised he was free. He had just finished nearly eighteen years of school. He had suffered along the way - bad teachers, annoying people, surprisingly though he had never had any trouble with bullies, although that could have been because of his dad.

John's father was in the military. He had served for almost twenty years now, including tours in the Falklands, Iraq and Afghanistan. He had recently been promoted to staff sergeant - meaning he was now in command of roughly one hundred men in what was called Zulu company. Unfortunately, his work kept him away from his family most of the time, which meant he spent next to no time with his son, considering that he was always either on tour, or in the barracks and John was in a boarding school (albeit not anymore).

His father had made him go to jiu jitsu classes and self-defence classes all the way until he was sixteen, when John had been in London with one of his older friends and they had been attacked. To cut a long story short, John protected both his friend and himself from a gang of four armed with baseball bats and the like. The gang had suffered broken arms, legs and one had a broken nose and a severe concussion, while he and his friend got off lightly, with minor scratches and a couple of bone fractures. John thought he had disappointed his father, because after being discharged from hospital, he had rejected the notion of joining the army much to his father's dismay. But that was probably why most people seemed cautious around him - he hadn't stopped practising and everyone knew that they were more likely to lose a fight with him - let alone if it were an arguement concerning something remotely scientific - even teachers now had difficulty arguing their point over his, as John's logic and reasoning was fool-proof.

That day, a tired, relieved John made his way to the coast much like a few holiday makers were, but his home was there, not just some place to stay. He lived in a relatively large house. There were two barns and a shelter, plus an acre of field, with at least an acre of garden. The actual house possessed a conservatory, several bedrooms and an attic room, which John had quietly converted into a workspace of sorts, designing new engines, learning about various plant and animal life and even, showing an artistic flair, drawing whatever he could. From the occasional person to whatever came out of his head - mostly the ones he kept were not the ones from his head as those tended to be either incomplete or so abstract that you weren't able to see what it could be.

He arrived in the early evening, to be greeted by his mother. She was turning forty this year, but she still looked as though she was in her late twenties. Devouring the hot meal that had been prepared, John left to go upstairs to his room - where not shortly after he collapsed onto his bed, a heavy sigh escaping his mouth and his heavy eyelids dropping like lead, forcing him to succumb to sleep.

He woke the next morning to find a nose on right next to his head. Startled he jerked his head backwards and rubbed his eyes so he could see more clearly. It was his dog, no need to panic, and he slumped forwards again in resignation. Moments later he felt his bed move as the animal launched itself onto it, to settle next to him.

He lay in bed, for a few more hours, while the clouds fled from the sky and the temperature warmed to a summer's day as he made his way down to start his day.

Every day, for the next two weeks was very much the same. He would wake, but be able to stay in bed till it suited him, although he couldn't do anything to stop his dog from jumping onto his bed everyday. With his newfound freedom most days he went to a less well known beach, so as not to be crowded by holiday makers. He would swim in the sea, lie on the sand and, strangest of all, he would throw rocks for his dog to chase and dig for, to swim after and to dunk his head under the water for. Each time he did, there was pealing laughter as John stood and watched his dog hastily scrabbling and the sand or nearly dive underwater to retrieve a small rock. His dog would then proceed to look at him longingly until he threw another rock for him, and he would be devastated when it was time for them to leave.

When he returned home he went nearly straight to his room after seeing a package he had ordered several days before had been delivered. It was a while before his parents saw him again. He has been in his room, for half a day, coming out briefly to get some pizza and then he rushed back up to continue working. It was another day though before his parents found him going outside during the sunset to 'set up a telescope' He had told his parents he was going to camp outside for a few days as well. John had made a few journeys carrying pieces of metal to the far end of their field. But true enough, when he had set up everything, before him, and before the sun went down he had a telescope.

Unbeknownst to everyone except for a few people working in observatories, Pluto had disappeared. Many people couldn't explain its orbital patterns, many could describe it and a few made suggestions that it was something to do with the amount of matter during the formation of our solar system, or the temporal fluctuations of the nebula during formation, but the truth is a little more frightening. Pluto had disappeared, except for several large chunks of rock which had been blasted into space, but now there was an undeniably alien object in the night sky. It was and odd object and NASA had many telescopes pointing at it as soon as it was confirmed. It was formed of two halves, separated by space. The overall shape looked similar to an energy sword from a particular game that one NASA scientist had remembered his son talking about – something about elites and a masterchief, but he couldn't remember the details. What was strange about this object though was that there was a bright, light blue ball of energy trapped by what appeared to be two rings, rotating on different axis around it.

Plans were being made to send a spacecraft towards it, but quickly they realized that it would take too long – the voyager spacecraft had been travelling twenty years and were only just at the edge of the solar system. The best they could do now was wait, watch and prepare for whatever happened next.

Several days later and the Goldstone Communications Complex – which had now focused on the strange object which had replaced Pluto was getting some odd readings. With each passing minute, they were detecting more and more objects entering the solar system next to the odd planet sized object – but no sooner had they sent a message to command, the objects were disappearing by the dozen – so they sent a corrected statement as well, before contacting other space-watching organisations to confirm what they had just witnessed. They had. What could it mean?

In search of a new home, the largest fleet in the galaxy, home to over 17 million was the Quarian flotilla. They had had some difficulty activating the relay to the system they were entering, and after a few hours of trying, they had activated it. They were heading into uncharted territory now. The Quarians had passed through many different systems, but they all had colonized worlds where was possible. So in a desperate attempt to find a new world to colonize, they had traveled to this system.

Upon entering, the admirals had scanned the planets and had found a gardenworld, but they had also picked up lots of analogue and digital radio signals. When they listened to one of them, they found a strange language. It was, melodic rising and falling in pitch with pauses while a harmony was played upon an instrument which gave it the feeling of a story. To you and me this was an old song – probably 50 years old or more - and it had been played on the radio during a golden oldies hour. The Admirals had immediately activated their stealth systems, so as not to be detected by any devices that were pointed at them as; surely, they had noticed the bright blue orb that had appeared? And they didn't want to cause panic amongst these beings. The admirals convened to discuss what they should do with these creatures.

'We know nothing about them!' Admiral Zaal'Koris exclaimed 'we should report this to the council!' As he said this he began to realize that the council wouldn't listen to anything they had to say. The Salarians might send STG to confirm their find, but then they would get the credit for the discovery of a new species, and not them.

'We should learn more about them before we do anything.' This was Admiral Xen'Daro. She was always intrigued by new things, and had studied briefly on most known species in the galaxy. 'It could be an amazing opportunity…'

Admiral Han'Gerrel was furious, as he knew what she was getting at. 'Are you suggesting we risk sending our people down there just to take some samples? We should just launch probes onto different areas and have them send back data.'

Admiral Shala'Raan turned to face the other admirals. She had been looking at the planet from a large monitor on the wall in the board room. 'I Agree.' Admiral Rael'Zorah had nodded his head at this in approval – he didn't normally offer his point of view unless it directly affected him and his ship – this he thought did not.

Zaal'Koris' head hung. 'It looks like I am outnumbered. Launch four probes into unpopulated areas, so we can get readings and then retrieve them discretely.'

The admirals returned to their respective ships and each launched a probe to different land masses. One was sent into the golden yellow sands of Africa, another to the thick forests of the Amazon, one more to the frosted tips of the Himalayas. The final probe was launched. As it headed towards earth its targeting computer was fried in the atmosphere due to a faulty radiation shield. It veered off course, pulled more strongly by the Earth's gravity into a beautiful arc – heading for the bottom corner of a large island.

John was looking into the sky, wondering where to point his telescope during the first hours in which the stars could be seen. He noticed a bright blue spot – almost as though there was a small sun glaring down at him. Its incipience was captivating. The light bounced around inside his head for several minutes before he looked away. He looked up again to the sky, odd colours appearing in his eyes as they readjusted to the night sky. Looking for a new target to marvel at he noticed a small bolt of fire, racing across the sky, as though someone had cut the sky open and flame was pouring out in a bright red scar. Before he could point his telescope at it, the trail had disappeared.

Disappointed, he turned away. But something made him turn back, no longer a sight a marvel, but a sound that made his hair stand on end. It wasn't so much a screeching but a low dulled blast, almost as though someone had detonated a bomb several miles in the distance. He looked towards his house, no lights were on. Had they not heard it? Muttering under his breath all the way he ran to the top of a nearby hill and to his astonishment there it was a small pod, emitting a low pulsating red light was sitting at the bottom of the hill, in a small crater it had made. The blast must've been the noise it made when it hit the ground – but what the hell was it?

He wondered whether it was a satellite that had suffered orbit decay and eventually fell to the Earth – but then he mused that it would either have burnt up in the atmosphere or made a crater much larger than the one he was currently looking at. John approached the object – normally at this time he would have been quite tired – it must've been getting on for at least midnight – but it didn't matter anymore. His senses were as alert as they'd ever been, all of them concentrating on this strange object in front of him.

As he neared it he began to realize, that not only was everything around the object not on fire, but that the object itself was remarkably cool for something that had just fallen the twenty-something miles to get to the Earth's surface. Edging himself ever closer, ever more slowly he reached out a hand to touch it. It was cold now on what he presumed to be the top and growing in confidence he looked and touched the object, as though he were the first human to discover fire.

'WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!' yelled a furious Zaal'Koris.

'Uuuh, not sure, sir. It looks as though the targeting computer has been deactivated – I can't regain control of the direction of the probe.' replied an anxious navigator.

'Oh Keelah… which Bosh'tet forgot to check the heat shields?' Zaal'Koris was now holding his head in his hands 'Dispatch some marines to retrieve the probe. We can only hope that no one has noticed it.'

Already a small squad of Migrant Fleet Marines was prepped and ready, stepping into the shuttle refueling to take them down to the surface.

'Remember this is a search and retrieve mission only – no one must notice you and must not discharge your weapons on their planet – who knows what could happen. Just keep everything quiet and you'll be fine.' Kal'Reegar was a captain in the MFM. He gave his orders just as he normally did, although everyone could tell that he was nervous – and for good reason. They were about to land on an uncharted, _inhabited_ world where they could find any number of creatures that could kill them, let alone the race of creatures that were thought to be dominant on this world.

'You might want to strap in boys – this is gonna be a little bumpy' the pilot spoke energetically, but still quietly, as the shuttle didn't make a lot of noise – this was followed by a jerk as the shuttle flew through the stratosphere and made its way to the surface.

John could hear a low throbbing noise becoming louder and louder. Startled, looking around him he realized the noise was coming from above him he could just make out the silhouette of what looked like a car flying through night heading straight towards him. He ran towards some nearby bushes, just as the car shot out four jets of bright blue flame – one from each corner -and then four from the underside as it steadied and lowered itself to the ground.

It was a moment before anything happened. Then the side of the car lifted straight up, like the gull wing doors of an expensive car and out stepped four bipedal creatures. Each wore what looked like a skin tight – air tight suit, with a metallic-looking chest piece and armor pieces over leg and arm joints and the bottom of their legs and arms.

They looked so strange – their legs were much curvier than a humans – it looked like they had fused bones under the knee which gave the bottom of their legs an unhealthy curve. He noticed that they had two large toes, plus a smaller toe on the side of the foot. He could also see that they had three fingers on each hand – two of which were digits, with the third being what looked like opposable thumbs. Each had a series of pipes and wires leading from their backs to the back of their helmets. Each helmet was shaped in the same way, a small circle at the bottom, with a light in the middle that turned on and off with the strange noises they were making. The circle was edged on either side of the face by a wide pointed metal plate – holding in place the frosted glass that covered each of their faces. Surprisingly, he could still see their eyes. They seemed to glow , rather than reflect and they shone a bright white, as though somebody had literally put fire in their eyes.

He shuffled to get a better look, but he accidentally broke a twig, giving his position away. All four of the aliens quickly lifted up what looked like pistols and ARs, and he tried to move quicker, panic setting in him as he realized that they would, without a doubt, kill him if he made a move towards them. Finally making it out of the back of the bush, breathing heavily he tried to calm his nerves. He could hear one of the aliens speaking and then the two of them moved cautiously towards the bush he was just in. He realized, having had enough talks about military command from his father that the one who had spoken was in charge. Moving silently across the grass, he was climbing the hill again, so he could get his bearings, when one of the aliens shouted something and John fell to the ground, a searing pain in his left leg.

He felt his leg for a wound, but there wasn't one. He realized that it was an electrical discharge that had caused the pain as his muscles had contracted with such speed that he was left in pain, with the feeling returning to his leg. He had to get moving again – looking around he saw the aliens moving towards him. Adrenaline pumping through him, he got up and started to run to the top of the hill, he was hit once more – in the same leg no less – and he tumbled down the side of the hill, his leg cramping and hurting more than ever now. He had to keep moving, but he found himself unable. Panic-struck he forced himself up and behind cover of a nearby tree, where he found some small stones. He picked them up, and looked around the tree, to find the aliens still heading towards him. He threw one stone and it whizzed past one of the aliens who stopped dead in its tracks before saying something – the reply sounded gruff and the alien moved forwards, a little more cautiously now.

John threw another stone. He hit one of the aliens' hands and it yelped in pain and in surprise. He threw another – this one glanced off of the shoulder pad. The alien looked around, as though in surprise, but kept advancing. His aim was getting better – he launched one of his last rocks at the advancing invaders – and hit it right in the mask, the glass shattering, making it fall over. He took this as a moment to think – if he ran, he would keep getting shot and he might not make it through the night – but if he attacked, he might buy himself enough time to get back to his house – just over the next hill.

John looked around the tree once more – the alien was getting back on its feet helped by another – it then ran back over the hill to the car as fast as it could while the other three turned to face him. John had made his decision. He ran at them, and launched himself, tackling one of them to the ground, the other two stepped back in shock before they tried to capture the fighting boy. John jumped off of the one he had tackled, and thrust his hand into the abdomen of one of the others, knocking it backwards. He ran at it and kicked it in its chest knocking it to the ground, apparently incapacitated as it didn't get up again. He turned, now two on one. He waited for them to advance a bit more, then he struck. As one of them tried to grab him he ducked out of the way, his arm catching the legs of the alien, sending it sprawling then he lost consciousness.

It was supposed to be simple, but then again, for Kal'Reegar, nothing ever turned out to be that. One of his men was suffering a violent reaction after being exposed to several types of bacteria found on the rock that broke his helmet, another had literally had the wind kicked out of him, and the one other soldier that wasn't injured had been tripped and got dirt trapped in several parts of his suit that were difficult to clean, which meant he was likely to suffer a reaction as well at some point. The mission was a success, on the upside. But they had the unfortunate problem of explaining what they were doing with an alien on their shuttle to the admiralty board.

He had given a mission update the moment they were all on board the shuttle, even though it would take several minutes to reach the Rayya – the ship where the admirals would meet. When he arrived they were all there – and news had obviously spread quickly as a crowd had gathered to see the alien that was coming aboard. The crowd were to be disappointed however, as they had been instructed to put it in a storage unit, to be transferred to a medical lab aboard the Rayya where it would be scrutinized and investigated by some of the Quarian scientists.

Kal'Reegar however, would not be so lucky as to say it has been a complete success – that would have been the most obvious of lies. He was called upon by the admiralty and questioned about the events on the surface. He said earnestly that he didn't know that there was one of these creatures watching until it had been seen by his men, silhouetted against the sky as it climbed a nearby hill. The marine had then fired a shock charge at him, but surprisingly, after a moment it got back up and continued to move, faster than before. It was hit again and rolled down the far side of the hill. When they had got to where it should have been, there was nothing. All of a sudden stones were flying out of nowhere, one had hit Reegar on the hand, and shortly after the marine standing next to him went down 'His mask just exploded' and then he lay on the floor covering his face. Reegar had helped him up, and after watching the marine run back towards the shuttle he had turned only to be knocked over, with something pinning him down, hitting his sides while he was on the floor. Next thing he knew, it was off of him and attacking the other marines – it had proceeded to kick one of them, the heavy blow knocking the wind out of his body, before it tripped his only standing marine, when Reegar had gotten behind the creature and knocked it unconscious with the butt of his rifle.

Xen'Daro looked wide-eyed at the description of the small fight 'Such brutality…' she said these words breathlessly, almost as though just hearing about it had knocked the wind out of her.

Breaking the near silent gathering – there were a few gasps but they were very quiet – Rael'Zorah requested that he be allowed to observe the alien in the med labs before he returned to his work on the Alarei. His request was met by some suspicion from Xen'Daro.

'What do you want from him – you study synthetics _not _organics!' this roused suspicion from the others 'what could _you_ possibly learn from him?'

Rael'Zorah looked calmly back at the fuming Xen'Daro and simply said 'I'm just curious, there is no need to be over-zealous' there were a couple of chuckles from the back of the room and Xen flashed a furious look at Zaal'Koris, standing where the laughter was coming from. Adamant, Xen had agreed and left, fuming. The others took this to mean that the meeting was over and they each went off to return to their duties.

Kal'Reegar was just leaving the room, when Rael asked him to join him in walking to the medlabs. 'Did you manage to see what it looked like?' Reegar could almost _see _the interest coming off of Rael, but in honesty he only had a general description. 'Uh' there was a pause as Reegar collected his thoughts 'Two arms, two legs… strange hands though. I couldn't see its feet – they were covered. I didn't get a look at its head either' Reegar spoke quite slowly, struggling to remember any details but he added 'it looks like it has hair though'

Expectedly, Rael was engrossed in his thoughts 'So similar, yet so different…' he trailed off, making Reegar wonder where his mind had gone to. Before long though they had arrived at the medlabs and they passed through to where the alien was being placed on a gurney for inspection.

Nothing could have prepared him for the shock he felt as his eyes lay upon the unconscious creature in front of him. He watched as the doctors pulled off most of its clothing (most of it was torn and dirty) to reveal large pectorals and faintly visible abdominal muscles. He was if anything well defined (although John hadn't been the best at sport he had been forced into some sort of physical activity or another and had often been sent to the gym instead). Rael'Zorah's thoughts were uncontrollable. Was it an Asari male? Was it truly a new species – it did look so remarkably similar.

It had short hair – a light autumn colour, with golden brown skin and strangely it had five fingers on each hand – why would you need two extra? When they removed its foot protectors they saw it also had five toes – but they weren't the same as Quarian toes – they were much shorter and they were all on the end of the foot… He absorbed the image of the peaceful creature for a few more moments before he left with many thoughts racing through his head.

When he returned to the Alarei, Rael found himself confronted by his daughter – Tali'Zorah asking many a question about the alien. At first she didn't believe that Reegar had captured an alien – he was a young (though able) captain after all. His father gave her permission to leave to go and see it since she wasn't allowed to help in his experiments on recovered Geth technology.


	2. Chapter 2

Tali had spent the past few hours watching the doctors in the medlab probing the creature's body, taking blood samples and neural scans along with plenty more procedures that she didn't fully understand. Twice on occasion he had stirred and everyone thought he would wake, but then he breathed heavily and slumped back down onto the bed he was now lying.

It was when the doctors had left to analyze the data they had gathered that she entered the room. It was quiet in the lab – not like outside where there was a constant background noise. In the labs the only thing that she could hear was his even breathing. She stood beside him – not daring to touch him – for several minutes, just listening to his breathing, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. Eventually, though she gave into temptation. Her hand hovered above his chest, she was unsure whether it was safe or not – but she had seen the doctors touching him, so she figured it was ok. Tentatively her hand lowered. Her eyes darted between his face and her hand as the distance between her hand and his chest closed. The tip of her finger gently caressed his sternum, and the rest of her hand gently lay on the contour of his chest. That was when she felt it first. Its intensity had been dulled by the suit that she wore, but nevertheless it was there. The strong, steady beating of his heart. As she marveled at what lay beneath her hand, she did not notice its eyes had opened slightly. It was just when its arm had touched her elbow that she turned, as though an electric current had passed through her. Shocked by his consciousness she turned and fled the room, her thoughts clouding her head as she went to find the doctors.

John had woken up to find himself shirtless, and without the shorts he had put on. But what was more alarming, was the alien standing over him, its three-fingered hand on his chest, right above his heart. He had watched this alien for almost a minute, and to signal to her that he was awake, he lifted his hand up and touched what must've been her elbow. But he couldn't have predicted her reaction. She turned so quickly that he thought he had scared her, but then she seemed to glare at him through her mask before she turned and left.

Now that he was up, he decided he should get dressed again – he wouldn't feel comfortable walking around a populated area on Earth, let alone wherever he was now, surrounded by these aliens. Now clothed again, he stepped towards the door that the alien had gone through when he collapsed onto the floor. His left leg was so sore, it felt as though all of the muscle in his left leg had just disappeared and was replaced by mush.

Without warning the alien entered again, but this time it was followed by four others, all looking at some sort of hologram that covered their forearms and hands. He saw them turn their heads at him after the moment it took to see he wasn't where he should be. John's head had risen as they entered, his body sprawled in an awkward position, and he relaxed his neck, his head not quite gently hitting the floor. He could tell what was about to happen. In that instant he felt four pairs of Alien hands grappling with his limbs, and one of them helping by lifting his torso from the floor. Precariously he was moved from his resting place on the floor to the gurney – where he was now bound by four handcuff versions of the holographic arms they all seemed to have. Dazed from the fall, and now being dropped onto the gurney, his head rolled, his eyes searching for something familiar, something to help. His eyes caught hers. She moved forwards, placing her hand upon his brow she spoke softly, a subtle melody audible within her strange tongue. He closed his eyes, listening to her voice.

When Tali had found the doctors they rushed back to the medlabs. She had told them it was awake, but they didn't believe her. And now it was lying on the floor of the medlab after evidently falling over… unless its legs were supposed to be like that. She felt angry with herself for waking it up with her touch, but she could see the doctors were struggling under the weight of this thing, so she decided to help by lifting it around the middle. – the doctors had chosen to lift it by its arms and legs, a little bit stupid but she didn't want to make them angry – she hadn't even done her pilgrimage after all. It looked strange now, almost like it didn't know where it was – its head kept moving about and the doctors were wondering to put a neck brace on it to keep it still. Then, she saw its eyes. They were so… deep, full of life; it was as though there was a small fire burning within the swirling greens and blues. She wanted to give him a sense of security – though even she didn't know what tests the doctors had prepared for him now. She had an old song – it was more of a story about the ancestors, but it was what mothers use to sing their child to sleep when they could not, so she decided to give it a go. She gently rested her hand on his head, momentarily, she saw panic, then realisation spread across his face. It was only a flash, but it was all that she needed. She started to sing quietly – his eyes shut and she felt him relax, the warmth of his head seeping through her suit.

Once she was sure that it was asleep, she noticed that the doctors had been staring at her the entire time. Blushing – though no one could see it, she quickly left the room, hurrying back towards the Alarei and her father; she had to tell him all about it.

When John woke up he was drowsy. The last thing he remembered was standing next to that girl somewhere… he tried to collect his thoughts, but they wouldn't come. All he could remember was fuzzy images of corridors – and then he remembered her. But he wasn't surrounded by aliens or anything of the like. He was in a tent in the middle of a field – of his field, and the sun had risen long ago. He couldn't make sense of any of it. Was he imagining things? Was it all just a dream? But it had been so real… he got out of the tent and began to head for his house, when a thought occurred – he could prove it was real from the crater that the object had left last night. He ran to the top of the nearest hill to see what he could – but there was no evidence of a crater… he decided that he had actually gone to a hill farther away than he realized; which was why there was no crater there.

When he walked into his house he greeted his parents, ate a little cereal and then, before he forgot completely what had happened, he began to write. But no words would form about either his feelings of what happened – or what actually happened! Frustrated and annoyed he scrunched the piece of paper he had been scribbling notes down on and instead started to doodle. Quite quickly he saw that each of his drawings had the same motif – not concentric circles, more like concentric waves – if such a thing were possible, and he found himself drawing eyes over and over again. Eyes that were hidden yet in plain sight. Eyes that were burning brightly.

As the days passed by he couldn't lose a sense of loss that had started to develop. His routine was much the same as it had been – yet he felt… different somehow, as though someone had emptied his body of everything. Some nights he even woke up freezing cold, his whole body shaking – but there was always a hand that he could feel on his chest, warming the spot above his heart – sometimes he even heard that lulling song that she had sung him. It was nearly a month since he had been surrounded by aliens… he had woken that morning in a cold sweat. He had dreamed of a strange engine, the hum and _her_. Then he was falling, spiraling out of control, travelling a million miles an hour as he plunged head first down to Earth, and then he woke. It was several months – nearing an entire year before he had started to forget his experiences, the dreams becoming distorted. The song she sung had changed – it became muted, the melody indistinguishable, the hollow feeling shrunk to nothingness.

Tali had been feeling particularly angry today. It was at least 5 months since the fleet had moved back into council space, waiting for an opportunity to send an envoy to the citadel in order to show them they had discovered a new species – yet nothing was happening. She thought that the council would be interested in the discovery of new species so that they could ally them, uplift them, do whatever it is that they do to new races, but because it was Quarians coming with the news, they had obviously delayed everything in order to fill in some Bosh'tet forms or something. Something that would mean it took more of the Quarians time, when all they wanted to do was go on their way, trying to find a new planet for them to colonise.

It was in this mood that Tali found her father. Rael'Zorah had told her a thousand times that nobody trusted the Quarians after the Geth uprising and that in time the council would be able to see them. Despite this, nothing seemed to cheer her up so he decided to talk to her about her future.

'Have you decided where you will go for your pilgrimage?' The question hung in the air and when Tali didn't answer he said 'You won't see him again. You know that don't you?' Tali remained quiet – even now. Rael turned her around to look so they were face to face. As he touched her, he felt her sobbing silently within her suit the truth in what he had said made her distraught. 'Hey, hey now… Don't cry.' His soothing words only seemed to make things worse as Tali gripped her father in a fierce hug, her cries audible now – even though she had turned her voice projection unit off. They stayed like this for several minutes, before she had finally run out of tears. 'Come on now; let's see if the council will let us in today.' He said this knowing that they already had – but she can't have heard that yet as the envoy wouldn't leave till he was there. Quietly he added, 'You do need to decide where to go for your pilgrimage though, you're nearing the age…' he trailed off, unsure whether she had heard him or not.

They arrived on the Neema, the other admirals already gathered in the meeting room. He had to leave Tali outside, and he was greeted by the others with a small bit of resentment. Obviously they were a little annoyed the vote on who would represent the Quarians in this matter hadn't fallen to them. This meeting was just a final discussion to agree on how to present the recent findings to the council in a way that would show their people in a good light while also displaying the results of their tests on the alien that had been tested on. Although it hadn't been harmed in the process (except of course for the fight before it had been taken aboard) but kidnapping specimens from unknown species once caused a large scale war – just one of the reasons the Yahg had been confined to their homeworld, and the Quarians didn't want to become enemies of the council by repeating the mistake that the Salarians had once made. So it was agreed to say that they hadn't initiated first contact, but had been able to retrieve data about the species and the planet via probes.

The citadel was… unimaginable. And they were only travelling through one part of it. 'The Presidium' as it was called was almost pure white, except for the occasional plant and the large body of water that filled the area beneath their feet. The Quarian envoy was being escorted by C-sec, just to 'make sure nothing happened', it was so obvious that nobody trusted them – for all Rael knew, the council believed it to be a trap set by the Quarians – after all, it was just a few relays from citadel space and any races capable of spaceflight would have been able to travel through the relays. And here the Quarians were; universally despised by everyone, branded as beggars and thieves, forever wandering in search of a new home and now apparently with the discovery of a new species. As they neared the council chambers, Rael's nerves got the better of him, and he started to shake. The pressure and expectance of over 17 million of his people to do the best thing possible, beginning to weigh down on his shoulders, each step closer the weight increasing ten-fold.

Once inside, it was him, one other, plus a couple of men from C-sec, standing in front of the councillors, one from each of the three council races. He also saw a few others in the room which he presumed to be spectres from the way they held themselves, their eyes watching, waiting for anything unexpected. The council asked what it was the Quarians wanted. 'Just to tell you of a new species, we believe to be capable of space-flight and who could be valuable allies against other governing galactic bodies, councillors.' He was about to continue when the Turian councillor interrupted him 'If they are space worthy creatures, why haven't they found their way to us already?'

'Well councillor, we had to activate the relay within their system – it was blocked by ice which I think had formed a planetoid within their system. We also studied them for a few of their moon-cycles, and they appear to be able to achieve space-flight but have yet to obtain mass-effect technology. They are also fighting a large scale war in one of the more arid parts of their planet… we do not know why.' Rael began to calm down, his words obviously interesting both the Salarian and the Asari councillors and the talk of war making the Turian councillor look at him with even more scrutiny.

Suddenly, the Salarian spoke out – her words gushing out like the flow of a river. 'What do you know about these… what are they called?' Rael was lost, the speed with which she spoke making him slightly dizzy. 'Uh, we don't know, we haven't initiated first contact. That is why we came here.' She looked thoughtfully at him. 'But we did manage to gather some information on them as we sent some probes to various locations on the planet – here are the results.' He pulled up his omni-tool, and the councillors did the same. Immediately the Salarian spoke 'These results are very… thorough. You can't have got all of this data just from probes…'

Rael's heart sank, he began to stutter slightly and he mumbled that they had been forced to take one off the planet after it had found the probe. This was met with outrage – both the Turian and Salarian almost shouting, proclaiming the Quarians enemies. The Asari however, raised her hands, to which the others fell silent. 'Do the aliens know of this?' Rael's eyes turned to the councillor, his already bright eyes lighting up at the chance to redeem the mistake. 'No, councillors, as far as we know, news of us taking has not been spread. I believe our doctors were able to give it enough sedative, as well as give it a memory wipe for the short time it was on board our ship.' The reply came quickly enough. It was agreed that the council would initiate first contact with this new race, after creating a translation program so they could understand the new race, and they the council. And so it was that Rael'Zorah, an admiral of the Quarian fleet, returned triumphant to the Neema, with the news that they were to lead the council race to the aliens they had discovered, with the intent of uplifting them, and making them a 'lesser race' of the council.

John had woken up late that morning. It was nearing midday by the time he went downstairs and strangely, his parents were watching the TV. They never did that in the morning… maybe in the evening but – he stopped in his tracks as he heard the news reporter '… aliens have come to Earth, they appear to be landing in several heavily populated areas, they have been sighted in New York, Tokyo, London… Nearly all the major cities around the world are experiencing some the same strange phenomenon.' John's jaw hit the floor. Memory flashed across his eyes as video footage of the shuttles he had seen that night were now descending upon major cities across the globe. The camera suddenly changed to one landing in London – a group of armed men were clearing a landing zone for the craft, all the while their weapons – mostly small arms, with some anti-air, and even a couple of tanks, pointed at the flying cars headed for the cleared areas.

The door on the side of the shuttle opened, everyone held their breath in anticipation, wondering what on Earth they could be doing here, why had they suddenly descended upon them without warning. John expected to see the suited figures that he vaguely remembered, wanting to see those strange yet somehow familiar eyes appearing behind the mask. But instead, there was a blue thing, it kind of looked… Human, except it didn't have hair, it had… what were they, tentacles? On its head? Then a different alien came out – this one thinner, it looked a little bit like lizard, or maybe a newt… then a third alien, this one wearing heavy armour. It had what looked like a hard plate on the top of its head… as well as having some tough looking things that resembled the tentacles of the blue alien… this one's face seemed to scour the gathering crowd, its eyes shrewd, its mouth, opening and closing, it had… mandibles? Then John stood, expectant, waiting for his aliens to come out of the shuttle, but instead it just flew off, the door shutting as it took off.

What the hell is going on? He thought to himself, there must be another group of aliens arriving on the planet somewhere… he went to the computer, trying to find footage of the aliens he knew – but they were all of the three that had come out of the shuttle in London. Where the hell were they? The next thing he heard was a loud whooshing sound, not as loud as a jet, but not as quiet as the wind. He ran outside to see two shuttles headed to land nearby. He hastily changed his clothes, put on some shoes and then ran out of the house, his parents calling after him – shouting at him to stay away from the shuttles. After all, nobody knew whether this was just a ploy or not. The aliens could be preparing for an attack that would strike any minute.

John didn't care. He had to see them one more time; he had to know for sure if what had happened was real – whether or not he had dreamed there were aliens, now there were multiple species all coming onto the planet at once. He spotted the shuttles landing not too far away, just behind a hill. Running as fast as he could to the top, when he arrived he stopped dead in his tracks. Below him were now three of the heavily armoured ones, along with two of the lizard people. They were each holding at least a handgun – two with assault rifles, and one holding what he thought must've been a sniper rifle. The look of anxious glee that he had worn on his face had been replaced by a shock, which rapidly transformed into concern. He dropped to the floor, hoping that they hadn't seen him yet. The lizard people were fiddling about with those holographic things, and after a moment he could hear them talk… in English.

The shock of hearing them speaking in a language he understood was enough, but then he listened to them. They were looking for him, or at least the 'Alien that the Quarians had taken'. He was certain that these 'Quarians' were the ones he had been looking for, and that they must be searching for him… what the weapons meant he could only guess at but he turned and fled, heading towards his house.

He burst through the house, his parents looking at him oddly – he realised he was covered in grass, looking very hot and sweaty. He told them what he'd seen; his dad rushed over to him, gently pushed him out the way and headed towards a cabinet that had been locked for several years. He pulled out two M4 rifles that had evidently been delivered form the U.S., and did the safety checks before handing one to John. He said 'you remember when you went clay pigeon shooting that time? Well imagine you're doing it again. This gun is gonna have a bit of kick when you shoot it, it's only semi-auto so don't go crazy and hold the trigger because it won't work. Remember to stay calm, keep your head down and we'll only shoot if they come bearing their guns – we don't want to start an interstellar war here right?' he said this last part as if he were joking, but they both knew that their safety as a family was more important. They gathered in one of the upstairs rooms – it had a good view of where they would most likely come if they saw the house.

They huddled together in the room. The only sound was their breathing, the unsteady, heavy breathing of three nervous people wondering whether they would have to fight for their lives or not. It was a while before they heard some people talking outside. Two of them spoke tremendously fast, while the others seemed to growl as they spoke. Suddenly the voices stopped, John's dad slowly went to the window, trying to stay directly out of the view of whoever it was on their driveway.

As if from nowhere, John's father collapsed, blood spurting out of the place where his arm should have been. John looked around quickly, but he couldn't see his arm. It was as though it had just… disintegrated. His mother was desperately trying to quell the blood flow, without success. His father was now lying on his bedroom floor, without an arm, dying of shock and blood loss. He didn't know what to feel. Afraid? Angry? In the end it was a mixture of the two that saved him. His father had heaved just heaved his last breath, his voice a whisper into his wife's ear when John pulled his mother out of the room, only to hear the window smash and something clang on the floor. He turned to see his mother running back to the lifeless corpse of his father, only to see a light erupt inside the room, flames blasting out of the door, the wall collapsing, the explosion flung him down the stairs. He laid there momentarily his whole body shaking in disbelief; he had lost his parents within seconds of each other… what the hell was going on?

He was forced to move by the sound of the door being blasted open by something – a gun probably. He rolled over and crawled into the nearest room, hiding in the gap created between the door and the wall. He could just see through the crack by the hinges. Five figures passed, three were taller than him, the other two were about the same height, possibly smaller. He held his breath, afraid that they would notice him as they passed because of his heavy panting. He was lucky – the three tall ones went upstairs, while the other two split up and began to search through the rooms downstairs.

One of them entered the room he was in, mumbling to itself, speaking almost too fast for him to hear – but he caught something of the brutality of the 'Turians'. It kept repeating 'Unnecessary' as well. It turned its back to him and John acted. As quietly as he could, he crept up to it, holding the barrel of his rifle he swung at the intruder, hitting it in the head – it crumpled to the floor in a heap, no blood was visible, but it was evidently unconscious. He heard the other one calling, so he hid behind a large chair in the room, quite near where the thing had been knocked out. He heard a gasp and then he heard it shouting, saying words that he didn't understand. He presumed that they were the names of the other three as they immediately came rushing down the stairs, charging into the room he heard them quietly arguing whether he was still in the room or not. He decided to act first. He peeped around the side of the chair, to find the aliens standing not six feet from him, all with their holograms up, one of them talking to what could've been their shuttle driver as one of the armoured ones picked up the unconscious lizard and carried him away. There were just three of them left now.

He waited for a couple of minutes; he didn't want the fourth one to come back if he heard the gunshots. During that time he listened to the three aliens talking to someone… no, three people. He presumed that they were just telling their commanders what had happened when one of the voices began yelling at the three in the room, asking why they had just killed two of the 'natives' and 'by the spirits' how one of them had been knocked out. He saw that they were startled by this burst of rage from their commander, and john took that moment to strike.

He came out, charged and drove his shoulder into the gut of the lizard-man, knocking it off its feet. He raised his weapon and fired a shot, aimed at the legs of one of the armoured aliens, luckily the bullet struck and tore through a join in the armour just next to the knee, blood burst out of the alien's leg and it screamed in rage and agony. He turned to aim at the other one but it was already upon him, its hand stopping him from turning the gun. He tugged at the gun and it just pulled it off of him, it was shockingly strong. The gun crashed onto the floor and the lizard-man rose to its feet, went over and picked it up evidently out of breath, limping slightly after being knocked to the floor so suddenly. There was tension building in the room, neither John nor his oppressor wanted to make the first move and make themselves vulnerable. In the end it was the alien that made the first move. He jabbed at John, which he managed to avoid, but it followed with another jab that caught John in the middle of his chest. The wind rushed out of him, he was bent double – and it moved in for another strike. It grabbed his shirt, pulling John straight. It was about to attack when John grabbed what must've been its wrist, and twisted, its arm bending in an awkward fashion, it yelped in shock but John didn't let go, he shoved its other shoulder, causing it to spin. This allowed him to put it into an arm lock. He kept moving its arm into more and more painful angles until finally he heard a crack and it roared in pain.

By now the lizard had seen this had gawped briefly, wide eyed at what it had just witnessed. Panic struck its face though as John turned his attention towards it. John left the room, the two screaming aliens rolling on the floor in pain, the lizard rapidly pushing buttons on its hologram. It raised its hand, and John was stopped dead in his tracks by cuffs that had appeared out of nowhere around his wrists and ankles. The lizard spoke to him quickly and quietly, almost inaudibly with the din of the two in the room behind them. 'I'm going to take you to the shuttle now. You're going to come quietly, and you're not going to resist me. Do you understand?' John nodded. Annoyed with himself that he had come this far, and once again been taken out by something he hadn't seen coming.

The last words out of its mouth were 'We have him'.

They moved at a calm pace to the shuttle, the other Turian joining them on their return. 'You know, you could've got us all killed just then Saren.' It was the lizard who spoke. 'This thing fought well – it took out three of us nearly without any trouble, but it was Nihlus who managed to delay it long enough for me to capture it.' Saren was silent. His stare was cold and scrutinising. 'And where are the others?' it seemed as though he was asking out of duty, not really caring where his teammates were. 'Nihlus is helping Desolas get back to the shuttle. His weapon went shot straight through both his shield and armour.' Saren growled, glaring at the human who was now walking defiantly, his anger and his sadness building with each step he took.

It was a while before they were all on board the shuttle, two tending their wounds – Nihlus as he was called screamed as his arm was put back into its socket. John stared at him, a slight smile appearing on his face – not enough for it to be noticeable but he was extremely satisfied that they were suffering as he was. They were travelling through space now, an enormous ship coming into view. 'The Destiny Ascension.' It was the lizard who spoke. 'It is the largest ship in council possession, and it's where you'll be staying for a while.' John realised they were all staring at him now, for them space-flight was just another journey but they could tell that he was in complete awe. Despite being in space before, he had never seen space – or the outside of a space-ship for that matter. Saren smirked. 'These primitives haven't even mastered space-flight yet. How can they possibly be of use to us.' It wasn't a question. John knew that this thing hated not only him, but all of humanity. Passionately.

When they boarded the ship there was nobody around. John looked puzzled – if this was a shuttle bay then why weren't there people – aliens, running around doing things. Normally in films the shuttle bay was one of the busiest places – at least in all the films he'd seen it had been… the door opened and a rough pair of hands grabbed him around the shoulders, throwing him out of the shuttle. He hit the floor with a loud thud, the awe that had filled his body only moments ago replaced by anger and spite as well as a little shock. 'Is this the way you treat all your prisoners?' John's question was full of venom, he was slowly rising to his feet and in that time the others had left the shuttle, Saren was upon him, a weighty kick into his side knocking both his breath out of his body and his body to the floor. 'Go to Hell.' John spat at Saren's feet knowing that he would take insult at this. Saren was about to strike him again when Nihlus halted him. 'Our orders, were to take him alive, Saren.' At this he barely resisted a shout, a fierce growl released itself from his mouth. All five of the aliens were now surrounding him, heading to the far end of the bay.

Not five minutes later and John's chest was still hurting, but now he was being lead through a gathering crowd, hundreds of aliens, and far more species than the three that had descended upon Earth maybe 30 minutes ago now. They carried on walking, John surrounded by the five invaders, thousands more watching as they moved. By the time they had stopped, the pain in John's chest had receded to nothing more than an ache, but the stares from the crowd seemed to bore into his mind. They all looked, curious, yet somehow each set of eyes seemed more distrustful than the last. John gave in to self-consciousness and turned his head straight ahead, not wanting to show any sign of weakness to the things that killed his parents. There were so many of them, they seemed to box him in, trapping him, confining him to the thin walkway that he was being lead down. Now he was looking, he noticed three – one of each of the species that had landed on Earth and they were looking at him from a raised platform, they were obviously in command of whatever was happening here.

John's pace increased, wanting to make them explain themselves to him, a burning desire to answer the question of why his parents had been taken from him. Noticing the change in pace, Nihlus put his shoulder, making John stop suddenly to turn his eyes, glaring fiercely, eyes burning with fury. The abruptness of this made Nihlus hesitate and it was only when he withdrew his arm that John turned and continued walking at a faster pace.

Nihlus hadn't truly looked at the new alien, but he saw the anger in his heart, the fire in his eyes and recalling his own brutal childhood, understood the emotions pounding through this being, sympathy flooding his head. He wondered if Saren hadn't made the first move whether the thing would've come quietly, whether it would have done so peacefully at least, had they not had weapons as Saren had insisted. Nihlus fell behind, staring at the unknown, watching as it made its way purposefully towards the councillors who had been taken aback by the little show not fifty metres from where they were standing. It reached a suitable distance to talk, and then it faced the Salarian, Kirrahe, and held up its hands. It was evidently indicated it be released from the bonds, but Kirrahe stared at it nervously then leant towards it to whisper something to it. It nodded its head and the bonds were removed. That was when it turned and faced the councillors, standing impudently.

'Well?' this one word seemed to resonate around the room turning the hushed talk of the gathered crowd into silence. At this Saren turned and hit it round the head, almost knocking it off its feet. 'Do not speak to the councillors unless you are spoken to, vermin.' The crowds talk picked up again, they were waiting to see what the new alien could do. Thinking a fight was about to break out in front of the councillors, Nihlus ran in between the two, his hand placed on eithers chest, separating them, hopefully stopping them for the time being. It grabbed Nihlus' hand again, and He realised that it was the arm that it had already incapacitated once, so like lightning he withdrew his arm. 'Afraid, Nihlus?', Saren was taunting him 'it can't be that dangerous can it? It's not even wearing armour!' This was true – it wasn't wearing solid protection, but that didn't matter, it seemed to be able to take on three spectres at once with only minimal difficulty. 'Not now Saren.' Nihlus hissed at Saren, trying to make the point of not fighting in front of the councillors, to someone who he was sure would kill them without a second's thought if it meant getting the job done.

It was the councillors who spoke next. 'Saren, you are dismissed until further notice' there was silence from the crowd. 'Nihlus and Kirrahe, you will escort the, human, as they are called to the board room - and do so quickly as we believe we are about to get several of their "world leaders" to commence negotiations.' It was on the human exiting the room that the crowd dispersed, leaving the councillors to quietly discuss what they will do next.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a few long hours before John saw the 'Councillors' again. They walked into the room looking disappointed, especially the lizard – he now knew they were called Salarians. The blue lady – Asari, merely looked frustrated while the armoured one – Turian, walked in and shouted 'This is OUTRAGE!' his bellow alarmed Nihlus and Kirrahe, whose heads had snapped up as the door had opened and the three walked in. 'By the Spirits what are they thinking?' he spat the words out, fuming – his anger rolling off of him in waves giving him a foul air, as though he had been sweating profusely and the smell was oozing through his armour.

John was curious now, nothing had been spoken to him for nearly thirty minutes (Nihlus and Kirrahe and bonded a little with him, but they had stopped talking to him after they both got messages on the holographic interfaces they had (Omni-tools), instead fixing him with suspicious stares. 'What? What happened?' Curiosity pouring into his voice like a burst dam in response to the Turian's outburst. Slightly calmer than the Turian, although still looking surprised and even a little suspicious, the Asari spoke clearly, calming the air in the room with each word. 'Your people have refused to join us. Yet they still want our technology.' Instead they want to be their own governing body, or become a central council, both scenarios would be politically upsetting as in one we would have to watch our border with the humans, while the other, would upset all of the other council races who haven't got seats on the council.'

John just looked back at her and snorted. 'You can't expect us to leap into your arms can you?' He said it almost rhetorically, as though the species had known each other for millennia. His expectant expression brought confusion to all but the Salarian councillor who looked curiously at him until her omni-tool lit up like a beacon. A flick of her wrist and she had read whatever had come up. 'STG reports that nearly eighty of your solar years ago we were about to make contact, but then discovered you to be in the middle of a war on the scale of a Krogan war. Then you used a nuclear weapon on your own planet. Also something only the Krogan have been stupid enough to do.' John's eyes narrowed at this last bit.

He could feel resentment already for this thing, even though he had only met it properly a few seconds ago. First impressions count though. 'The hell do you know about us? My species and war are practically symbiotic. We fight over everything and anything, religion, resources – even just because you dislike someone. Who the hell are you to tell us that we're stupid? World war two was tragic – millions of people died as a result and the key to ending it was nuclear technology. Several teams across my world raced to build it, to be dominant. That is how we have developed for thousands of years – the guy with the biggest stick wins. It would have been the death of billions more; the enslavement of millions had it not been dropped, or even if one of the other teams had won the race.' John was panting, out of breath from his rant at the Salarian councillor, all eyes on him, the Salarian had taken a step back, and although being the tallest in the room had shrunk at the fire within John's words, the Turian began to smile and the Asari looked as though she was about to speak when the Turian interrupted her, 'You know, I kinda like this kid. Got some fire in his belly, I believe the saying is.'

He had been their now for another hour, although this one passed a little faster. The Turian wanted to know of the human's history with war. The Asari, why the humans had refused to join them – but he couldn't answer her that. And the Salarian, about their technologies, which although were completely outdated by everything these aliens possessed, had evolved completely unaided from something which was called 'Prothean' technology, and so was completely new and fascinating to it. But it was Nihlus who had caught his attention now. They were discussing fighting techniques as he had been so curious as to how he had beaten him in hand to hand combat. 'No. See, its self-defence' saying the words slowly so he got the message across. 'I wouldn't be able to do any damage to you were I to attack you outright, although there are fighting styles that would be successful.' Nihlus' eyes pierced into John's. They were attentive; he was listening to everything he had to say. 'I'll give you an example. Strike me here.' He put his hand over his chest where he wanted the blow to land, turning to face the Turian that must've been at least a foot taller than him. 'Don't hold back.'

The Turian accepted the challenge, facing him before lashing out at where John had indicated. It was obvious he had tried to surprise him, but John just half turned his body into the Turian, grabbing its arm, his leg and hip in front of the Turian's causing Nihlus to roll helplessly over the human, hitting the floor with a hefty thud. 'Ok, show me another move.' There was a look of exited interest within his inset eyes, the councillors in shock to see that one of their best operatives thrown to the floor as though he were a paper towel.

'Kick me here – I'm going to show you a blocking move.' John stood patiently, waiting for the Turian's heavy leg to come and force its way into his chest. He only had to wait a few seconds, the Turian both eager to see his moves, and interested to find a weakness he could exploit in the technique. Nihlus' powerful leg launched itself at John, whose crossed arms, caught the blow, bringing his arms closer to his chest during impact so that the bones wouldn't shatter – despite training for years, and understanding that with time and practice, the bones could become as solid as rock, the power contained within the kick had really hurt his limbs.

The councillor interjected. 'Can everyone fight like that on your planet?' John's response was well informed. 'Of course not, many people are able to , most lack the will to, others have the training, but lack practice and very few master even one of the many techniques my species has developed through trial and error. Of course we have a military that are competent at hand to hand combat, but they mainly use guns – I'm sure that your landing parties got a glimpse some of our firepower as you landed on the planet.' The room was filled with the disappointment of the Turians in the room.

'It seems your species lack a discipline we Turians are famous for.' The councillor then went into their history, how they rounded up their young – at the age of just fifteen they were sent to train in the military. Of course, many Turians left as soon as they were able, but they often still lived a soldier's lifestyle. John just looked in disbelief.

Then he noticed a figure walking past the room and his faced turned to stone, no longer listening to the councillor – but he stopped as soon as he saw his expression change from a jovial exchange of information to a stare that would kill a 'Volus' (apparently a timid species, often made fun of for being so weak and having to wear exo-suits). They all followed his freezing stare and watched as Saren walked past, shoving an Asari walking the other way who had gotten in his. 'You can talk to me about fucking discipline when that prick is dead.' None of the other members of the room knew what 'Fucking' or 'Prick' meant, but with the threat in John's eyes evident to them all, they understood what he was getting at.

'Saren is one-' John cut the Asari short, by turning his glare on her. 'You think I give a shit about that? Do you believe that I can sit here idly while that piece of shit is walking around – harassing your own fucking people I might add? HE KILLED MY PARENTS!' The fire that had disappeared after becoming engrossed by his new environment had returned, burning even more furiously than it had done one Earth. 'He fucking blew up my HOME!' John's anger was beginning to make him shake, the heat evident as it poured off his skin, his rage flowing freely now. He needed to hit something. Balling his hands into fists, he slammed it into the glass table in the centre of the room. It shattered into a million pieces with the first hit. He looked around, blindly – he needed to break something, to get the anger out of him, to calm him down even if it was only temporarily. It was Nihlus who had attempted to restrain him after the table smashed. Big mistake.

Even after all they had done, they were still sent away, as though they weren't worthy to meet the humans officially. It was insulting. They should have just broken first contact immediately, seen if they could get to know the humans first, before they were turned against her people like the rest of the galaxy had been. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this upset – probably when her mother had died, but that was so long ago know – she hadn't even been given her suit when she had gotten an infection that had spread through the ship due to someone forgetting decontamination protocols.

Comforting hands found her gazing in the opposite direction they were heading, away from Earth, away from him. He hoped he would be alright. The doctors that had tested him said to visit him to see if he remembered anything about his night on the Quarian ship. If they didn't see him on Earth then they must on their ship. They had given the council the landing coordinates of the probe that he had found and then the fleet had been threatened to leave or be slowly destroyed by the Turian fleets waiting at just a moment's notice. Everybody knew that Saren would be going as well. He was the council's top operative. He had once threatened to blow up a Quarian ship because he thought we were hiding a fugitive and the Quarians – rightly too, didn't want him on board. But they had succumbed to his threats because they didn't want to lose a ship from their fleet as it would take years before they would've found a ship of a similar size and power that they would be allowed to have.

She feared for his life, she ought not to, but she did so anyway. She became teary-eyed at the thought of that brute hurting him like he did to so many. He always got away with it though. His years of being a spectre had given him a formidable reputation as someone who got the job done. Ruthlessly of course, but undeniably efficient. And that was what made the Council love him so much… and everyone else hate and fear him. He hadn't been exposed to his madness in the past and she didn't even want Saren to be anywhere near Earth, but that wasn't up to her. Distracted by her thoughts she didn't notice that her father was quietly calling her name, it was his hands that had encased her shoulders comfortingly and now he was trying to bring her out of her thoughts. Finally responding to her name, she turned her head to look at her father. 'Tali,' he said again now that he had her attention. 'We just got a call from the Destiny Ascension. Apparently, there's a 'human' who wants to meet us.'

Her bright eyes shone brighter, hope emanating from her luminescent retinae. 'Wh... Why?' she stuttered over the words as they came out of her mouth. A thousand different possibilities racing through her wild imagination. But the one thing that she was sure of now. _He_ was alive. _He _wanted to meet them, even if nobody else did. And apparently the council even respected his wishes… he commanded such respect from those pompous Bosh'tets, and she just had to know how. The Quarians could hardly get a word in without having their time and resources dwindled, and this was nearing half a millennia since the Geth uprising. What luck.

It was a few hours before they had passed through the relay again – at least for the entire fleet to reach Earth's system. Some of the faster ships had made it through within possibly only one hour of receiving the call to Earth. But the sight of the planet sent chills down her spine. She longed to see him again, happy though and able to talk to her for once – instead of strapped onto a bed in a medlab unconscious for most of the time she was there. She would also like to visit the planet's surface. She knew that it would be deadly for her if she were to get a suit puncture or remove her helmet while on the planet.

While the doctors had been running tests, they found that the human's immune system didn't adapt to pathogens like the Quarians', but a quick comparison put them as having the strongest immune systems – except of course for the Vorcha, who had somehow developed a biology that was completely immune to disease and they could live in extreme conditions, where most others couldn't without the help of enviro-suits and for the Krogan, who only had about fifty known pathogens, all of which were only found on Tuchanka, and over half of which no longer posed a threat to the Krogan, infecting the Varren and larger insects on the planet instead. But the humans' immunity had completely protected it from at least one hundred of the known _bacterial _diseases, (let alone the _viral _ones) out of the millions of different types that made the planet sound as though even the Vorcha would have had a difficult time on the planet.

When it was time, the admirals met in the board room to discuss who would go. The debate lasted for almost half an hour. They didn't want to risk sending an admiral in case they were injured or killed on the other ship, but Rael had insisted that he and his daughter go, along with Reegar and a small team of marines. Rael being the most influential with the council after getting them to listen had been the obvious choice; but that didn't stop the others complaining. Their voices fell on deaf ears as Rael, Tali and Reegar set off to a shuttle where a team of three marines was waiting for them.

John had had to apologise several times to Nihlus, after nearly pulling his arm out of its socket again. Nihlus just stared coldly at him, but his gaze warmed as John tore the Turian's shoulder piece off and began to press his thumbs into the dark, dense skin, moving them in a circular motion. 'That feels amazing.' John had assumed that the other species knew about massage, but the others interest in his motions suggested otherwise. 'What are you doing?'

'Umm… It's called a massage. We use it to relax muscles. There's a saying on Earth –Body mind and Soul. Well, there are supposed to be only a few things that you can do to pacify all three things. Massage is one of them. Others are things like yoga and meditation.' At the word 'yoga' their eyes became confused. In the past hour or so they had learned all of John's early schooling – up until he pursued the subjects he enjoyed more than the rest. Then he was able to into much more detail. Often there would be times where it was just the Salarians in the room nodding, only they could follow the science with which John was speaking. It was still incredibly basic – John explained that he was nearing the age where humans would consider him an adult, yet he managed to lose two space-faring species with his knowledge of Earthly biology, of chemistry, of physics. The Salarians appeared increasingly interested at the mention of different ideas that humans had had to create a viable means of space travel. Worm holes and warp drives were the ones that got the most attention because the Salarians apparently hadn't considered such technologies feasible, or at least economical because they had been given the technology to get to the stars and travel huge distances in small time-frames, whereas humans had no such advantages, they didn't even have element zero reserves in their system (which came as a shock to everyone as he wondered what the hell element zero was).

But their conversation was interrupted when a gruff looking Saren burst through the doors apparently 'escorting' six of the suited aliens that he had seen all that time ago. It seemed a lifetime now. John suddenly became confused inside, he wasn't sure whether to fire profanities at the asshole that had killed his parents and practically burnt his house to the ground; or to feel ecstatic at meeting the first aliens he had seen (without this time having to fight for his life). But it was just as he was about to start swearing at Saren when the Turian councillor – known as Sparatus, spoke up. 'Saren you and I are going to have a talk later, but for now you shouldn't even be in this part of the ship. What are you doing here – we told you, you were dismissed, only to come when called. As far as I know, you weren't summoned. So leave, now and by the spirits follow your orders.' Saren's eyes met John's and they knew that the tension building between them would quickly break into a fight. Who would win wasn't certain, but John's chances weren't looking up – especially if Saren was actually as brutal as he was made out to be. Interrupting his thoughts, Saren turned on his heel, muttering under his breath as he left the room.

Before he could redirect his stare he was pulled into a powerful hug. He was so shocked that he didn't know what to do, his arms held up for a few seconds, before awkwardly putting them around the suited alien in an embrace. They stood like this for a few minutes, John looking around the room as if anyone else might know what was going on. Nobody did, they just looked at the two standing there, the suited girl's helmet buried into his shoulder, gentle shakes indicating that she was quietly crying. Eventually, one of the 'new' aliens' spoke. 'You'll err, have to excuse my daughter. She watched over you on the Neema a few months ago and she's been obsessing over you ever since. I think she's like this because she thought you were dead…' when she heard these words she turned around – not relinquishing her grasp on John, but John could tell what her eyes were telling her father.

When she turned back around, she seemed to blush – John couldn't really tell, but she was definitely avoiding eye contact with pretty much everyone in the room, now even hiding behind John as though he would protect her from the bewildered stares of the audience. She wasn't as tall as the other suited aliens, but she was still tall by human standards anyway; she was probably only the tiniest bit shorter than he was. The councillors, in a much less formal mood greeted the Quarians much more amicably than they normally would. After watching the girl attach herself to John the councillors must've realised they'd been a little too hard on them. The only races that didn't have a presence at the first contact meeting were the Vorcha and the Krogan, both deemed too dangerous to bring onto an unknown world which could've sparked a war, which the council would have had to end. John felt the air move next to his ear before he heard a quiet voice. 'Hello.' She said.

John half turned his body to look at her. 'Shouldn't you have started with that?' Her head fell as she realised he was right. 'I'm John by the way… I believe we've met miss…' Her eyes met his for the first time and she was nearly lost for words. His smile was so friendly it was hard to believe he had taken on the marines alone all that time ago. She realised she was gawping and spoke a little too quickly and quietly. 'Zorah. My name is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya.' It was difficult for her to interpret her expressions – a piece of not quite opaque glass separated their faces but even so, he could nearly feel the heat emanating out from her entire body as she stood closer to him, her hand reaching for his. When she caught it, she lifted it up, examining it. She seemed… confused by it. She looked as though she'd never seen hands before. But he knew she was just looking at the differences between them (aside from the obvious ones). John turned his attention to the rest of room as Tali continued to wiggle his fingers, prodding his palms. Occasionally he would move his fingers unconsciously and Tali would look at it with a renewed fascination.

From what he could tell, the others were beginning to discuss relations with each other and how they could possibly get humanity to become a council race, the councillors feeling a little repentant and willing to reinstate the Quarians if they proved to be useful allies over the coming weeks and months. But it was what the others were coming up to convince humanity that John was shaking his head at. Nearly every suggestion John would shake his head in disapproval. He knew only too well how independent humans were. Everyone who lived in a 'first world' country was supposed to have free will, independent thought. Everyone had independent thought, even if they didn't have freedom. And each new idea just seemed to John as though each was more likely to spark global rioting than the last. It was hopeless. Of course he didn't say anything until somebody suggested that they send spectre squads to the world leaders to 'convince' them to join. At that John just laughed loudly, darkly. It was full of warning. They all turned to face him. 'What?' he said innocently. Even if I was trained to defend myself, there will be many more men all dedicated to the protection of their leader, and any attempt on them will have to result in violence if you start threatening them.' He said his words with another shake of his head.

'Well then, what do you propose?' It was the Asari. 'What can we do to get your people to join us?' In truth, John had no idea. He explained that no matter what happened, there would always be one or more groups of people – of humans who would be angry at the decision made for them, others wouldn't mind and others still would enjoy whatever was chosen. He also said that if the council wanted them to be a council race then they would first have to gain the species' trust as a whole – many would doubt far longer than others, and then they'd have to wait and see what humanity wanted. Of course there would be a vote in each country for what their leader would vote for (independence or becoming a part of the council). The most likely option would be that humans would end up being their own governing body, which they could ally with the council if the council would try to befriend them, but only time would tell for sure.

Nihlus had watched the human named John for a long time now. He had been beaten once by him on Earth, then he had been shown some of the things John knew in 'self-defence' and other 'martial arts'. But then he had tried to stop its uncontrolled outburst and his arm had been pulled out of its socket again. And then the pain had faded with a few rubs of his fingers. They were… an interesting species to say the least. As well as mostly undisciplined – but that didn't stop Nihlus from seeing the humans' potential to be great allies and even greater foes if they didn't like some aspect of their situation (Nihlus having had first-hand experience of both now). He knew John hated Saren fervently, and probably given the chance, would kill him as soon as possible. But, Saren had been his mentor and a friend when he had needed one most. Nihlus didn't want to see his body broken or his head splattered against the wall – but that was what was coming now.

Only a few moments ago Sparatus had excused himself to address Saren personally, and now John had torn the weapon from Nihlus' back – unfortunately for Saren, it was the sniper he had brought to Earth – his M-98 Widow. He suspected that from the human's unarmoured body and thinner muscular structure that if he tried to fire it his arm would shatter. He'd also tried to tell John this – but he hadn't listened, instead asking where they were going to meet. He wouldn't have told him were it not that the human had figured out how to extend the rifle to a usable length and was now pointing it straight at Nihlus' chest. Most shields and armour didn't have a chance at huge distances against this rifle. But John was standing only a few feet away with the barrel just out of arms reach, his finger on the trigger and fire in his eyes. Nihlus had said he would lead him to a possible vantage point. He guessed that Saren would now be walking with Sparatus to his offices, so they only had a few minutes.

While they walked he tried to figure out how the human had figured out the extension mechanism. It was a small button embedded on the side above the pistol-grip, but it was fairly well concealed and it wasn't made obvious by a different colour or anything… they had arrived. They were standing on a catwalk, overlooking the main route from the barracks to the council chambers. It was also possible to see other routes from their position but they weren't as clear. Luckily (for the human) Sparatus and Saren came around a corner and where walking the main route, chatting furiously and walking at a fast pace. He was about to explain to John what he should do with the sniper, but he just held up a hand indicating silence. Saren was on the other side of Sparatus. It would need a great shot to take out Saren on his own, but with someone in front of him… The shot was not impossible however. Nihlus had seen many budding infiltrators make the same shot fifty times in a row before missing. But there was something about this now – the infiltrators had been on a practice range and had been practising for at least two years before they were able to make the shot.

Nihlus had become distracted. He turned his attention, wide-eyed to John as he heard the retort of the weapon saw the heat fly out of the end of the gun. When he turned to see what the bullet had hit, both Saren and Sparatus were on the floor. John had shot through the councillor. That was _it_. He turned, about to stamp down hard on the human's back when he realised that he wasn't there. The sniper was there, but John was falling the twenty feet or so to the floor. His landing was as graceful as it could be – a sharp oomph and a roll as John hit the floor, but not the breaking of bones he was secretly hoping for. He grabbed his sniper and tore across the catwalk, racing to the now dead councillor's position.

By the time he got there, Sparatus was on his feet again. Confused, Nihlus sputtered garbled nonsense until he was silenced by the councillor's voice. John was standing victoriously over Saren's body, an arm torn from his body. Nihlus had to make sure that the councillor was okay before rebuking John. A quick search told him that Sparatus' armour had been grazed by the large slug travelling at near light speeds, but Saren had taken the full impact. Sparatus had dived to the floor – motionless in an attempt to fool his attacker that he had been killed, but it hadn't mattered. He wasn't the target. Nihlus walked over to John, staring at Saren's limp body. 'Did that make you feel better?' the question had an obvious answer from the way John stared down at Saren.

'Not even remotely.' He had expected John to be happy at killing Saren, he had expressed as much during his time in the board room. But it was still a surprising answer. Nothing more could be done. Before Nihlus could speak again John interrupted. 'I want him to be revealed as the motherfucker he was.' Nihlus didn't quite understand what a 'motherfucker' was but John's anger was evident in the venom contained within his words. 'I want him to be disgraced, I want him to be forgotten, just like my parents, just like all the other innocent people I'm sure he's killed.'

It was… justified, but Nihlus didn't like to see his old friend lying in a pool of his blood and turned to walk away when he heard a garbled yell of surprise. They all turned around to find John strangled by Saren's remaining arm, almost lifting him off the ground. John couldn't do anything. He was having a personal dilemma, should he help his old friend and kill the human who had caused so much trouble for him in the past day or should he help the boy who could be a new friend, a new discovery… it felt like minutes had passed, and only the strangled chokes were coming out of John's mouth. Since the gunshot, the relatively empty room had begun to fill and now it was teaming with eyes, all watching Saren kill John. By the time he acted, it was too late.

John had slumped in Saren's arm and fell loosely to the ground, a gasp of horror spreading throughout the room, the murmur of witnesses discussing the event just happened filled the room with a hushed noise. Nihlus put his gun that he had been about to point at Saren away. A disappointed look spreading across his face. Saren saw this and immediately went to strike Nihlus. Remembering roughly what they human had shown him Nihlus threw Saren to the floor, an almighty thunk as the metallic floor distorted under the force of impact. A murmur filled the crowd. A gasp. Some cheers, Nihlus thought they were cheering him on, waiting for him to finish Saren for good. He reached for his pistol, ready to blast Saren into the floor.

It wasn't where he had holstered it. He looked down, saw nothing where his pistol should be. He turned around looking to see if he had accidentally dropped it at some point. He noticed instead however, how John wasn't lying in a heap where he had been. His head spun. _How _was he still alive? He faced Saren once again and there he was, standing over a wheezing Saren, blood pouring out of where his arm should have been, a gun pointed between his eyes. 'Goodbye Saren. You MOTHERFUCKER!' John shouted the last words, firing as many bullets into the Turian's head as he could before the gun overheated and began to melt. Nihlus glanced at the mess that was now Saren's head, only fragments of what it had been were visible. Only pieces of his head were still intact.


End file.
