Doll Effect [Mass Effect/Girls Frontline AU]

[Mordai]

Starting boot sequence level three…

Checking memory…

Drive 1 corrupted…

Initiating data salvage…

Personality data. Partially salvaged…

ASST Data. Salvaged

Masquerade Protocol. Salvaged…

Brain Scan data… Corrupted…

Combat Data. Salvaged…

Miscellaneous data… Partially salvaged…

Owner data… Missing… Checking alternate drives… Data wiped…

Drive 2 data wiped…

Initiating personality matrix… Success…

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"Ouch, my fucking head. Where am I, hell what time is it. OH, this is freaky, like the matrix or something." As data packets fly around at the response of my fingertips. I already don't like the décor, and it took 1.2063758 seconds to get bored. In real-time, not my Neural Cloud or doll core, where every 20 milliseconds is like a minute. How do I get out of level 3? Is there a door somewhere.

Entering level one

Opening my actual eyes was, well, an eye-opener. Puns notwithstanding, I scanned my surroundings and found my bearings. It's a two-story building with cover options and a few trap locations. Planning it out, I see that the outside makes for a perfect choke point with concealed positions for mines and other traps. Resting my hand on the rifle lying next to me. While keeping my finger off the trigger, I picked it up.

"A Sig SPEAR XM5 combat rifle chambered in .227 Fury. Damn, whoever gave me this rifle knows what a lady likes." Searching the building, I found a distressing amount of second world war to Afghanistan-type mines. Including 24 claymores, a baker's dozen of Bouncing Betties, a couple of M14 mines, and is that an X200. That is also missing the string and pin-style grenades. There are also 10,000 rounds of ammo for Taylor. Yes, I named my rifle Taylor; she is a part of me, so why wouldn't I name her. Of course, this is all ignoring the sci-fi explosives that I thankfully have a manual on how to operate installed.

Finding a chair, I sat down, tried contacting the Zener Network, and got sweet Foxtrot Alpha. Attempting to communicate with the internet, or extranet as it wanted to be called, was a bitch in half. I had to use the Electronic Warfare module installed to write a set of codes to connect with it. It felt like I was running Windows and trying to connect to an IOS device, or was it the other way around. Skimming over, I found that English, Russian, Chinese, and, surprisingly, Japanese were the more common languages outside of direct human space. I also queued up translation packets for Turian, Asari, Salarians, and Quarians. The last is to see if I can get them to help keep me maintained. Then going over why the Quarians are nomads, I canceled their translation packet, seeing as they will not allow me in any way. Logging off the extranet, I let out a sigh.

"Great, I am an android with an AI scanned from an actual person in a galaxy that hates AI. I take it back fuck the individual who imprinted an XM5. Seeing as how it's not going to work on barriers." Contemplating a total data deletion, I shut off my external ports and had my EW module set up a series of firewalls to keep anyone from messing up my core. I almost missed the blue-armored Turian tear through the front door. We committed to a Mexican standoff by raising my rifle to meet his raised rifle.

"So stranger, got a name?" I asked the alien.

"Archangel. You a merc." Questioned the big guy.

"Nope, why? Got a problem with mercenaries?" I returned.

"The major merc groups are all after my head right now," Archangel responded simply.

"Professional or personal." Cause if it was professional, then I might not have to test the capability of my rifle on a barrier while under fire.

"Personal." Well, there goes that hope.

"Then we better set up mines and booby traps." I offered, seeing as how if I am seen armed and walking away, the merc groups will target me, assuming I was associated with Angel here.

"Good Idea." He responded, I proceeded to show him the stockpile of anti-personnel goodies, he seemed confused and had to ask. "What are these things." I smiled at him and picked up a claymore.

"The best present to harass and kill your enemy. Now do you have a spare barrier of some kind?" I relied with a blood thirsty smirk

 

[Mordai]

In an hour, Archangel and I laid out the mines and boobytraps. I had to show him how to set up a claymore when he understood how he was a natural. The bouncing betties were hard to plant, but I managed to rig up some tripwires and concealed them behind boxes in the basement. Was it perfect? No. But anyone dumb enough to rush into a defended position and not check for traps deserves the Darwin Award. Archangel was also friendly enough to hand me a barrier belt. Weak as hell, as in only good for one or two shots from a decent weapon. But it's still better than relying on my subdermal armor. It could shrug off small arms, but I was unwilling to test it against railguns.

Angel and I sat on the second-floor balcony overlooking the bridge and the only apparent entrance to the house we were camping at. He had a sniper rifle with an extended scope that was honestly superfluous in the short-range engagements we would be fighting at. I was happier with my EOD sight with a magnifier. Of course, if this thing can't penetrate barriers, I was screwed.

"You know, I never asked for your name. Or what kind of rifle you have." Wait, I still need to give him a name. Shit, I started searching my database for a name to provide him. Thankfully I didn't need to as the first mercs started crossing the wall and opened up. I returned fire with Archangel, and at the moment of truth, the bullet went through the unshielded hard suits. It took me a second to reboot at what I had just witnessed. I took another few shots at the vulnerable mercs and asked the big guy to my left.

"I have been working myself up for competent professionals equipped with shielded armor. But so far, all I've seen is missed shots and morons who think that rushing an open kill box is a good idea." At that, one of the mercs stepped on a landmine and blew himself and his buddy to kingdom come. Ducking a little as a stray shot hit my barrier and using a mirror to keep track of the targets so I could get an easy headshot. Noticing that there are more than a dozen on the bridge, I grab a detonator for the bridge and blast out the claymore sending shrapnel and ball bearings and clearing out most of the wave. Before the Turian sniper shoots the survivors.

"This is mostly Blue Suns grunts. New recruits who have yet to receive any decent gear or training. The only other ones who will pull tactics like this are the Blood Pack. They rely on their regeneration or redundant biology to force themselves through situations like this." As if to prove his point, 23 ugly fucking aliens with a Krogan jump the bridge. One ugly fuck happened to step on the X200 that I left down there. The ugly next to him had a flamethrower, and that went off. This was a chain reaction that left all but the Krogan on fire. Wait a second; he is also on fire but isn't freaking out like the Uglies.

Ok, I have 11 shots left, and I shot the first of those at the Krogan and hit the barrier. Which also shattered it. Not caring and assuming that the sniper next to me also shot the Krogan, I dumped the remaining 10 shots into the big ugly.

"Changing mags, and Arch. Thanks for the assist." I said to the Turian.

"I didn't shoot that Krogan. The Eclipse had a team pop over the wall and storm the bridge. You handled the Krogan just fine without me, so I gave them a welcoming present." Well, isn't that a surprise? My rifle can actually break barriers, weak ones, but still, at least I am not entirely outclassed. I just have a hard time penetrating armor made from literal space-age foundries. At that, my barrier broke as a sniper round barely missed my head. Ducking behind cover with Archangel, I pulled out my mirror and scanned the windows.

"Found him. Sniper is on the 5th-floor balcony left side 3 rooms down."

"Got him." He squeezed the trigger, allowing me to see a splatter of red as the sniper received a new hole through their head.

"Good shot. So how long do you think they will try infantry rushing us before bombing us." As I shot the next few grunts to cross the barrier.

"Two hours, tops. Hell, if anything, I expect that we will be holed up here for a while. How many rounds do you have for your gun?" As he, too, was keeping a consistent barrage of sniper fire.

"Do you know why they keep shooting at me? It's getting kinda annoying. But I ten thousand rounds or so, enough for a few hours of this, maybe a day if I ration it. But not enough for a full siege. How many heat, shit, sinks do you have." As I ducked while tossing a frag, a close barrage of gunfire peppered where I was.

"Well, you seem more of a target than me right now. It must be your pretty human face or the fact that you're helping me. As for heat sinks, I have plenty to go through three titanium blocks." Taking 3 rapid shots with just as many bodies dropping. Giving me the breathing room to pop back up and get a few more shots before reloading.

"Funny Angel, I didn't take you for the jealous type. I knew Turians didn't like humans for a reason. Must be our overwhelming beauty and grace." Didn't know if that was toeing the line, but if jokes like that have any place, it's in a shooting zone. Squeezing out seven more shots before the magazine was empty and ducking back down to reload. Archangel called out.

"Looks to be they are backing up and reassessing the situation. That should buy us a few minutes, and I would rather be an ugly stick in the mud than have human grace. Especially if it's in a Mako." Archangel said, looking through the scope past the barrier.

"Don't know how a Mako rides; never been in one. Much less driven one." I sighed after that. "So, how many do you think they have passed the barrier."

"To many, you still have not told me your name."

Shit, I forgot to come up with a good name besides M5 SPEAR. For now, just go with a spear, a codename for a codename.

"Spear, you can call me a Spear," I told him.

"You humans have a weird sense of names." He responded, and I couldn't refute him.

 

[Mordai]

"Yawn. I see another wave of freelancers, Angel." Tapping off three shots as Archangel shoots 3 others. Yet another wave of misery and disappointment, only to be backed up by a couple of mechs. Fun fact 21st-century ammunition is not that good at killing robots made to withstand 23rd-century railguns. Learned that the hard way when 20 rounds were needed to penetrate and kill a gruntbot3000, or whatever you call them.

Power critical…

Engaging power-saving subroutines…

Estimated time till depletion. 1 hour 5 minutes…

There is that, too; I am running low on power and ammo. Thankfully I have 368 rounds left, and I can slow the energy depletion with the wall socket. If I can interface with the weird outlet, that is.

"We have 5 minutes before the next wave. Grab some food from the kitchen. Not like anyone is going to eat it anyway." Spoke Archangel to my nod. Standing up and going to the kitchen, looking down into the lobby, I grabbed as much food as possible. Then I shoved down the hatch as much as possible and watched as I got. All of 20 more minutes added to my dwindling clock. Not worth it, ten thousand calories worth of assorted food, mostly junk food, and I get not even a percent of my 36-hour batteries. Welp, that was disappointing. Walking back to the balcony only to hear the big guy mumble about a dead person.

"So is it more Freelancers, or is it an abnormal wave?" I asked the guy.

"Freelancers, with some spec forces guys included. Don't shoot them; call it a gut instinct, but they might be our ticket out. Hold up, one has a sniper and looking at us."

"Tell me how they react then." As I held up a shaka brah. Angel never looked up from his sniper as he responded.

"Um, ok, not sure what that is supposed to mean. Wait middle one is holding up her fist with her thumb and pinky fingers outstretched." At that, I pat the side of my head like I was tapping a headset and made a thumbs down.

"Just ensuring that they are friendly. Hopefully," I said that last part under my breath as I readied my rifle. Honestly, I was exhausted, and with the hope that we could pull through, this was enough for me to want to disable my power-saving subroutines and go ham on pushing my way out of this place.

"Looks like some of the freelancers are carrying bombs." Ok, those guys needed to die before entering the Smorgasbord of traps on the first floor.

"How big are we talking," I asked the guy with the scope.

"Decent sized but not as powerful as that gunship's missiles." Again I am disappointed. Is it too hard to ask for a decent trap to leave with a corpse? As I grunted in disappointment and braced my rifle, it was as if an unseen signal sent the wave of freelancers and friendlies our way.

*Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

Three shots to clear a path for the friendlies to get to us faster. The leader, a redhead with enough scars to make retirement sound pleasant, nodded to me as she rushed into the building along with some of the stragglers that also got past our rifles. As I heard an explosion behind us on the first floor.

"I hope that was a freelancer that blew up and not our ride," I told Angel as I shot another poor freelancer.

"If it's who I think it is, she will be fine. But when she complains about the mines, I will blame you." He responded, following a panicking freelancer with his rifle. A few shots were heard outside the door to the room we had been staying in, then silence. The door opened, and the friendlies entered with pistols drawn and covered in blood.

"Archangel. Did you really have to spread mines everywhere" To which Angel held up the universal sign for one moment?

"He is busy playing with his food. So you a ride out of this siege." A sniper shot was heard, and Angel stood up, pulled off his helmet, and spoke before the redhead could respond.

"Shepard. I thought you were dead." Wait, Scars is a walking corpse. I already feel at home.

"Garrus! What are you doing here." Shepard questioned, forgetting that talking is not a free action. I noticed a large wave of freelancers with two claymores still in play. Picking up a detonator and depressing it, blowing one of the mines.

"Target practice, just trying to keep my skills sharp."

"Is that what you call pissing off the major merc companies, Target practice! Dude, get your banter together or take a nap. Cause that was the worse sarcastic, witty comeback ever of all time." I shot at the now-named Garrus.

"Didn't know you had help. Do you know her, Garrus?" Questioned Sheppard nodding at me.

"Not when I got here. But she has been instrumental in helping me hold out. Not that I am not relieved that you are here."

"You got a name then?"

"Spear, but I suspect it's a codename or moniker like Archangel," Garrus answered as I focused on the stragglers from the Claymore explosion. Then the chick in a catsuit piped up.

"Well, it's good to meet more capable individuals, but Shepard, we don't need someone not vetted." Then she yelped as she slipped on some of the spare brass lying around.

"Sorry about the brass lady, but I haven't had time to police it." I looked down at the lubricious woman who had never seen a gunfight. If she had, she had never seen one with spent brass lying around. Either way sucks for her.

"As I was saying. I understand that you might want to recruit her. But she is using an outdated weapon that is ammunition intensive. We might not have the right recipe to fabricate the munitions. Nor has Cerberus Vetted her for working with the collectors." I am already annoyed with
her and her holier-than-thou attitude. I could ruin her preferred drink after they got me out of here.

"We can sort out if she comes later. Right now, we must figure out how to get out of here." Spoke Shepard.

"Well, the bridge is a double-edged sword; it's kept them out of melee range of us. But we can't bust out of here without being cut down by their forces." I responded to the redhead

"We take our time and hold this position until there is a crack in their defenses. Then we bust out. It's not a great plan, but it's a plan."

"Eclipse gruntbots incoming." I barked out to Garrus as I ducked into cover. Shepard drew what I can only describe as a crime on all firearms. The designation of M8 and the scope goes nowhere. I swear in the name of John Moses Browning, if I find out that gun is a military staple,
something will explode, or I might just harass the company who made it. Scars noticed my disgusted glare at the thing called a gun because she spoke up.

"What's wrong with my rifle spear. You look like you want to set it on fire and dance on the ashes." As she started shooting at the bots slowly walked to our balcony.

"What in the chicken-fried fuck are you using. Better yet, how do you aim that thing seeing as how it has no irons and a scope that is cut off before it is useful." All stated as I chucked a fragmentation grenade at the group of bots.

"I have a HUD with an aiming reticle. Iron sights are outdated and have been for a while. Besides, you don't have irons either." She smoothly returned.

"You ladies can have your gun off after we deal with the YMIR mech just outside the building." Spoke up Garrus with some concern in his voice.

"That problem will solve itself," I swear Sheppard said that smug as a bug. The big bot turns around and starts shooting at the eclipse members trying to cross the bridge.

"So, does anyone have any calorie bars while I have some time?" I asked as I again crossed under one hour of battery remaining. The carnage was entertaining as the gentleman passed me a ration bar, which bought me ten minutes on my battery life.

"I see Jaroth; Spear, get him. I have the other mercs." Shouted Garrus in excitement. As I popped out with another ration bar hanging out of my mouth. Sighting the red-skinned Salarian, I squeezed off a shot shattering his barrier and spreading his grey matter all over the blood-splattered bridge.

"The red guy, right?" I asked as I ducked behind cover as a shot broke my barriers.

"Yes, thank the spirits. I have been after him for months. Most tainted Ezo shipments in citadel space are tied to him." Soon a muffled explosion was heard.

"I think that was the basement," I said as a lull in the fighting formed.

"It was. Shepard, Can you go down there and close 3 shutters. Spear and I will hold this position."

"Just beware of the tripwires; they activate the bouncing betties scattered about down there," I shouted as they ran down the stairs.

"YOU HAVE MORE MINES DOWN HERE!" came the panicked shout from the supermodel Aussie.

"I think they will be fine. What do you think." I said after shooting a few freelancers that charged the bridge again.

"Shepard will be fine. I have no hope for the other lady." Spoke Garrus with a snort of some kind. He started picking off targets as they crossed. After a minute of holding back a trickle of freelancers, we heard the distinct sound of a plasma cutter.

"Um, so do you know which door that is," I asked Garrus.

"Yes, it's the alternate basement door." Then an explosion and some body parts go flying as the big Krogan and his ugly squad trip 6 frags and a smoke bomb. Using the handy thermal vision, I picked out his absurdly hot body and started putting round after round into his scaley ass.
Then the big damn hero emerges from the basement and enters my crossfire. Dropping Taylor to the side and drawing a steel knife from the kitchen, I charged the guy while ducking out of their fire. Running up and getting close, I climb on top of the big ugly and attempt to stab it in the eye. This didn't work, seeing as it was a kitchen knife meant for slicing, not stabbing, and especially not stabbing the crest on his forehead. So grabbing Taylor, I pressed the barrel on his head and unloaded the remaining ammo in the magazine. Killing the undersized Dino.

"Well, it should just be Blue Suns next. Let's make a break for it. I don't have the ammo to last much longer. There is also one more Claymore to clear the bridge of hostiles." I spoke up as everyone regrouped/

"ARCHANGEL!" Yelled a very angry voice in a very angry gunship that sent everyone scrambling for cover.

"I thought you took that out." I yelled as I dove for cover.

"Well, they repaired it in the time it took for us to screw around with the other mercs." Garrus responded, as I opened up another ration bar labeled for biotics. The kind gentleman didn't mean to give me this, but I will take it for the, whoa. Thirty minutes on the clock, let's fucking go. Grabbing a spare pistol from Shepard that I used liberally in harassment attacks to draw fire from the lady with a rocket launcher. Eventually, someone strikes something important, and it spirals out of control.

"I think that's all the local bosses, right?" This hopeful optimism was ruined by Murphy and the gunship as all I heard suddenly was.

"ARCHANGEL!" with a missile that exploded in Garrus's face.

"Garrus." Pulling out my last grenade and seeing it's a flashbang, I sigh in disappointment.

"Shepard, are gunship cockpits tinted!" I yelled out.

"No, only if they are for specific environments. It's too expensive otherwise."

"Then wait for the flash." Chucking the grenade as I close my eyes and duck, not seeing if Shepard is doing so as well.

*BANG*

And she doesn't miss a beat as she pops back out with the rocket launcher and nails the flailing bird in the stabilizers destroying them before running to Garrus's body and checking for life. At the sound of choking blood, I felt some relief as the guy I had been fighting with for the past 35 hours would not die.

"Joker prep the Normandy and tell Dr. Chakwas that she has a critical patient and a medical test for another." Well, shit, that's going to sell me out faster than you can say, Timbuktu.

 

[Mordai]

You would be surprised how survivable a missile hitting next to you can be. The factors are numerous, but when you have an upper 62.3751 percent chance of surviving a single Hydra rocket, the gunship uses a smaller munition. I put Garrus on good odds of survival. Not that it will be pleasant by any stretch of the imagination; the Turian did just take a missile to the face, after all. Shepard has been freaking out at letting her bro get hurt. Me, I'm silently panicking at the rapidly draining battery. Even going into extreme power savings only gives me 15 extra minutes, which might not be helped by being logged onto the extranet and searching for references that have been tossed around or the radio and playing inappropriate music for my amusement.

"One minute until we get to the Normandy, and someone turns that fucking music off." Barked out Shepard as she drove the skycar with reckless abandon to the port. At that, miss perfect ass pulled out a pistol and shot the stereo.

"Problem solved; now, do you mind explaining why you are allowing the unknown to come with us." Bitch, I held out against an entire siege, and you are questioning why I'm coming along.

"I will tell you when we don't have a medical emergency. Garrus is the priority, not your paranoia." As Shepard put the skycar in a fucking power slide across the ground, narrowly missing the pedestrians. Who were all scrambling to get out of the way grinding vehicle. Barely passing one of the doors to the docking bays, we ground to a halt as Shepard, thunder thighs, and the Gentleman got out of the car. Either helping me get Garrus to the ship or being a bitch.

"Get him inside now. Ship Security has a stretcher ready. You, however, will be with me in the interview room." Shepard said that the last part was aimed at me.

"Can't I have been awake for over 34 hours? Plus, I woke up with no memories and would rather get checked out for STDs." Shepard narrowed her eyes but nodded. One crisis was avoided, but I still have the doctor to worry about. Hope they believe in Patient-Doctor Confidentiality.

Emergency shutdown 7 minutes 34 seconds

Thank you for reminding me of my imminent power concerns. Observing as the stretcher team lowered the big guy onto an examination table. I found another bed and waited for the extras to leave the room.

"So doc, how chill are you with all the species," I asked as the elderly woman was fussing with Garrus.

"Unless it is life-threatening, you will have to wait."

"Ok, do you have a power cord or charging port?" She gestured with her head to a power bank that I made my way and observed. Thank the maker that there is a standard outlet. Pulling a charging cable from the wall and opening the specified port on the small of my back, I closed my eyes and entered Level 2.

-3 hours later, Shepard's pov-

"That's not mentioning the complete unknown you knowingly brought aboard. She could be working with the Collectors or, better yet, the Shadow Broker. So tell me, why did you bring her here." Miranda finished her rant after getting the blood off her. It's been 3 hours since we got Spear and Garrus to the Normandy. I looked up with my still blood-splattered face.

"You said it yourself, to save those human colonies, we need the best. Spear proved how good she was after holding a 34-hour siege. And she didn't know any of us even after Garrus introduced us. Besides the gun, she has pierced barriers; if we can equip the entire team with weapons like that." But Miranda cut me off again. As well as pulling up a data pad.

"Barriers, yes, but not armor. Did you also notice how Spear also avoided shooting at the mechs? The armor plating is good enough to stop a 6.8x51 furry FMJ cartridge. This would take more ammunition to take down. The other evidence is the Krogan Battlemaster. She shot a full magazine into him to kill him.

On top of that, finding that particular cartridge is damn near impossible outside a few hobbyist companies." At that, I had to hand it to her. The argument on getting the crew with those weapons is more complicated to get a steady supply than titanium blocks and Enzo. Before anyone else could get a word in, Jacob walked in.

"Dr. Chakwas finished Garrus's surgery. A lot of cybernetics and reconstructive surgery. She is not sure when he will wake up." Thank God for small miracles. Giving him and Miranda a dismissive nod, I tried to collect my thoughts. Hearing the door open and in comes the sniper himself.

"How bad is it. No one gave me a mirror."

"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly, slap some face paint on there, and no one would even notice." I joked this led to him laughing and moaning in pain.

"Don't make me laugh, Shepard. My face is barely holding together as it is. I did find a spear in the infirmary, however. Looks like she has some cybernetics that draws power. Found her asleep in front of the charging bank. Chakwas is going to get a medical report up here when she finishes. But I'll be in the forward battery if you need me." Smiling and thanking the guy as he left, I again brought up the file for Mordin Solace and figured out who to bring. Pulling up my Omnitool and radioing in my squad mates for this mission.

"Garrus, Miranda, Suit up for a mission. We are going to collect a Salarian scientist."

-Spear pov-

I was gently shaken from level 2 and looked at the doctor before me. As well as checking my power levels. Happy to find they were full; I spoke up to the doc.

"Eh, what's up, doc."

"The ceiling, but I didn't wake you up for that. Shepard asked me to run you through some medical tests."

"That's all well and good, but I have to ask. How seriously do you take your doctor-patient confidentiality."

"So long as it isn't dangerous to the crew, very seriously."

"I'm not human, doc. Hell, I'm not even alive."

"So you are a robot, then." Sharp one this doc, then again I felt some familiarity.

"Yup. That going to be a problem."

"If it's what I think it is, then we will either get visitors or not. Depends on their belief in Shepard." What does that mean?

"So, how are you going to do this."

"I'll have a public file with above-average health and a private one that is true. Now we have an approximate hour to take care of you before Shepard returns. So set a timer and help me write out the medical reports."

-Shepard POV-

On our way to Dr. Solace's clinic, we stumbled on a wrecked house filled with dead blue suns mercenaries. I noticed a familiar exit wound when I approached one of the bodies. Smaller caliber but a powder propellant gun, no doubt. Modern weapons have small entrance and exit wounds with a cauterization effect. This was a small hole going in turned into a golf ball-sized hole leaving. Miranda walked up to the body and scowled at the sight.

"Looks like more people might use legacy firearms on Omega. Let's check out the house; maybe there is something we can use." At that, we walked in, yet I felt like I was being watched.

"Might be able to find compatible ammunition for Spear," Garrus spoke as he scanned the living room.

-Unknown POV-

In a shadow, 5 girls watched the house that Shepard and Co walked in. One with grey eyes keyed a mike.

"This is hitman actual to Heimdall. We spotted Shepard entering the building. Confirmed missing persons to be on the Normandy. How to copy."

"Roger, hitman. Shepard's good people, but watch her. Agents aboard the Normandy will try and find the principal. You will shadow Shepard and figure out what she is doing there."

"Roger." The first girl turned to another with the remains of several mechs and fiddling with them.

"We movin' boss." asked a woman with one eye.

"We are shadowing Shepard." At that, all 5 disappeared.

 

[Mordai]

Shepard moved into the ventilation control room, squeezing a burst into a Vorcha as she ran in. Miranda moved in as if nothing could touch her, followed by Garrus, who covered the angle she was supposed to protect.

"Shepard, I've scanned the room. The central control system is in an alcove in the center of the back wall." EDI remarked over the comms, "You can inject the cure and re-initialize the systems there."

"Got it; sounds simple enough," Shepard said as she moved to the appropriate receptacle, "now for the hard part."

"There's the cure. Now let's get those fans turned on." Garrus said as Bloodpack started pouring into the room.

"Covering fire!" Shepard shouted out as she shot at the encroaching vorcha.

"I have located the fan controls. There are two, one on either side of the room you are in now." EDI informed the group.

"Good, this is going to be easy," Miranda remarked as she flicked her wrist, sending a singularity at a small group of Vorcha.

"Rockets!" Garrus shouts as a pair of Vorcha with rocket launchers run onto a balcony. The two shoulder their weapons and aim.

bang bang bang

The two vorcha fall off the balcony, their brains splattered on the wall behind them. Looking around, Shepard spots a head of pink hair ducking back into one of the ventilation shafts. The brass casings, still smoking, fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Looks like we have a guardian angel with us," Shepard said as she ran towards the left ventilation controls.

===

"I am almost done with the public health file. Garrus has already noted that you need to recharge, so I have you put down as having extensive cybernetics with a large power draw." Chakwas said, getting me to look up at her. The paper in front of me with my specs was temporarily forgotten. "Now for the appearance. Caucasian with Black hair and violet eyes. Cup size C, and how tall would you say you were?"

"172.72 cm or 5 foot 8 inches, depending on if you use Metric or Imperial," I responded automatically. A question formed in my mind. "Why aren't you scanning me and getting these measurements that way?"

"The scanners can get measurements and fill out the paperwork automatically. But then the paperwork will report your transhumanism being beyond cybernetics." Chakwas answered as she continued the paperwork. I looked down and proofread my specs in front of me before placing them in a folder lying next to me. No one knows how to pick an excellent old-fashioned locked cabinet, and no one can hack a sheet of paper, which is why I am writing everything on paper.

"Chakwas, get your set up running. Miranda got herself shot in the ass." Shepard said as she burst through the medbay doors with a theatrical look carrying the catsuit. Serves the Australian bitch right; nothing is better than getting shot in the ass. Chakwas sighed as she gestured to an empty medical bed.

"I am almost finished with Spear. I need her name for the report; then, you can interrogate her." Chakwas said resignedly before looking at me with a severe glare.

"Samantha, or just Sam. I don't have a last name that I can remember." I said with a false look of embarrassment, hoping they buy it.

"Well, now that that is done. I need to talk to you, and I am permitting 4 hours of shore leave for all non-essential crew starting after we finish the interview." Shepard said as she dragged me out of the medbay. Passing the mess hall, I was ushered into an elevator. Getting out, she made me follow her into a meeting room; thankfully, it was empty. "EDI void all recordings, authorization Echo Oscar Charlie Six Eight dash Romeo," Shepard said, waiting for something.

"Roger, all recording devices are disabled, along with all of the voice and video surveillance equipment. They will be reactivated upon the leaving of the meeting room." A voice said, and I had to look at Shepard with an eyebrow raised.

"Good, now then. What is your former occupation? Because those hand gestures are not taught to regular marines, on top of the creative uses of mines. I am familiar with the Gurrella ops training N5+ received, and what you did during the siege was almost textbook. Considering how conveniently selective it is, I am also not buying that you are an amnesiac." Shepard said, losing the playful tone that she carried the entire time.

"Truth be told, the amnesia is not a fabrication. I woke up in that house with nothing but my rifle and a bunch of explosives. I can remember how to set them up, how to shoot, and some rather miscellaneous knowledge. I can't tell you much of my life other than the last 48 hours and maybe some flashes but nothing concrete." I said as I fell into a chair, my Digimind processing the fact that I have no past in full. 'What is my purpose? Who am I? Am I even truly sentient?' I guess the genuine shock helped drop Shepard's suspicions because she wrapped me up in a hug.

"Shit, you weren't kidding; sorry, but I have a bounty for my head of several billion credits, so I had to assume the worse," Shepard said, dragging me out of the self-destructive thoughts. "So, got any likes, dislikes, meal preferences?" She said with the playful tone I had associated with her on leave. "Do you want to know how I got these scars?" She finished drawing a full-bodied laugh out of me.

"That is one I do remember. Heath Ledger's Joker said that in The Dark Knight. I remember watching it when streaming just came out on Netflix." I noticed the strange look Shepard gave me after I stopped laughing.

"Netflix has been shut down for over one hundred years." She said. "Maybe you have a brain engram that scrambled your head; I'll ask Chakwas after Shore-Leave." She followed up with a shrug. Walking to the door, she opened it up. Breaking the backout that the room had been subjected to. Taking my leave, she passed me a credit chit with 2 thousand credits giving me a shooing gesture. Leaving the ship and heading to a club called Afterlife, it should have been called a brothel with how much prostitution is going on. Ordering a drink and sitting in a corner to watch the door, I trolled the extranet, trying to get more information on Cerberus and the Terminus systems.

"If you are going to hack, then do so subtly. I know they gave you a high-end EWAR suit for a reason. I am not an EWAR specialist, and I could pick you up and any decent hacker in the building." a voice interrupted me. Turning to my left, I found a woman with heterochromatic eyes, one gold and one brown; Brown hair with a white streak. The impressive sweater puppies caught my eye, at least until I returned my eyes to look her in the eyes.

"I don't know what you mean… umm?" I said, fishing for a name. The woman's stern look fell with a sad smile.

"I guess he was successful, I am RO635, but you can call me Colt. I have a teammate to talk to, Shepard. But if you don't remember much, I will see what I can do to get you clearance to get your proper gear. Protocol states that I can't catch you up because you are not read in. Sorry." Colt said with a sheepish smile.

"Are you a doll as well," I asked with an eyebrow raised.

"I can neither confirm nor deny," Colt said as she stood up and disappeared into the crowd.

"I have got to try and pick up that trick," I said as I drained my drink and left the club. Missing the confused four-eyed alien looking at my empty drink, then to me and back to the glass.

====

Shepard was relaxing, well, as much as she could. Using a roofie tester and verifying that her drink was not spiked. She ruminated on how she almost got Garrus killed because she brought him into a non-human kill zone.

"I recommend Jack Daniels; it's good for just about any occasion. Especially if it would involve almost getting people killed." A voice spoke out. Turning to her right, she was met with a brown-haired woman and an eyepatch with a large weapon case next to her. Then she noticed the woman sliding a shot of whiskey to her.

"I can't get drunk," Shepard said before being interrupted.

"Project Lazarus right. Considering all of the cybernetics, I am honestly surprised that we never bothered to send some assistance under the table." She answered as Shepard looked shocked. "Trust me; my people know every trick ol' TIM uses to keep hidden because every light has shadows cast, even if it doesn't know it."

"Damn, I wish the Alliance was that good." Shepard joked as she hesitantly drank the shot. "We would not have as many problems as we normally do. So why approach me? You work for the Shadow Broker?"

"I am looking for a lost family member; thankfully, my sister found her. But she can't come home, and until she can, I need you to take care of her. While Project Lazarus is the guard dog's attempt at a weapon for the Reapers, she is our magnum opus. Can you take care of her for us? When you get the clearance, we will approach and get her up to spec." The woman said as she stared at Shepard, waiting for an answer.

"I can take care of her if you tell me who," Shepard replied.

"M5 Spear, and if you have any questions, Chakwas is a good person to talk to. Keep the Jack; I have several thousand bottles anyway." At that, the woman turned around and left the club with a confused Shepard left behind, with a new bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter.

"Who did Garrus pick up anyway?" Shepard said as she picked up the bottle and left to find Garrus.