Mass Effect: Vindication

Chapter 1: In for the Long Haul

Millencolin- No Cigar

A/N: Um, hi guys and girls. If you're reading this then I love you already and I can only hope you read my story as well. I began reading the fanfic series "Masses to Masses" (it's far better than ANYTHING I'd be able to crank out), a self insert of the author into the Mass Effect Universe, who possesses the knowledge of all the events of the first two games. Through various references to other franchises (Movies, other game series, etc.), he makes the ride not only thrilling, but utterly hilarious as well!

Anyway, this has inspired me to start on this piece of fiction. There are bound to be similarities between my fic and "Masses to Masses" only due to the similarity in concepts (both being OC/Tali told from the OC's POV), but I assure you, this is my story and the ride will hopefully be somewhere within the same ballpark of magnificence.

I'll be leaving song names for you all to look up and listen to while you read the chapter (or certain parts as it is designated). These songs will be right after the chapter title for each chapter.

And so, I believe I've rambled enough. Please, however, review every chapter if possible and tell me what works, what doesn't, and just let me know how I'm doing all around. I like constructive criticism.

I don't own any part of the Mass Effect franchise besides a copy of the games. Which I love. A lot. But, Bioware /EA owns it and I can only hope that ME3 does it justice

Without further ado, I present to you all: Mass Effect: Vindication…..

Fuck.

My eyes flash open. Oh, God, why can't I see anything but red? Slowly darker spots appear in my vision, spreading outwards like drops of water across a flat surface. Soon, my vision is back, giving me a view of the solitary little hovel that surrounds me.

"Ow…" I groan. "What hit me?" Glancing down, it looks like I'm in the only bed in the room, and in some kind of skin tight t-shirt and shorts, both colored varying shades of navy blue with gray trimming. Experimentally, I twist my abdomen, trying to stretch away the stiffness of sleep. Bad move. A searing pain bolts up my left side, causing me to see colors and grip tightly at it, as if I could tear the pain out of my body.

Well, one thing is confirmed: I should stay in this bed. I have no clue of where I am, how bad these injuries are, or even how I got here. I lean back on the lumpy mattress, glancing at the sheets. Half a second later, and that wasn't as good of an idea as I'd initially thought. The sheets are a hue somewhere between a dark yellow and tan and covered with stains from… never mind. I don't want to guess, let alone know.

I don't want to stay in this bed, but I really should….

Fuck it.

Should, can, and will are 3 different things entirely, I decide, swinging my legs out of the bed. I gingerly throw my weight on to my right leg, hoping any damage is confined to the left side of my body. Success! My right leg gets me off the bed and, as I get accustomed to standing, allows me to get a better view of my surroundings in this room.

The condition of the bed sheets proved to be the norm of the entire room. "Wow," I mutter. "You'd actually have to try to be this filthy." There was dirt and grime everywhere. The walls, the furniture, even the ceiling. It's like this place radiated a trashy aura. There's red and orange light flooding the room, illuminating it rather well. A couch rests on the opposite site of the room from the bed, a door just next to that, and a table a few paces in front of me.

The glimmer of something on that table catches my eye in the warm colored lighting. Moving to take a step forward, I step down with my left foot… a bit too hard. It buckles beneath me, leaving my body's forward momentum to carry me towards the table.

Smack.

God dammit.

My face hits the floor. Hard. Wincing in pain, I open my eyes. Oh look, more colors. "This damn light show is getting old," I growl under my breath. My nose feels fine, luckily. No break. No blood. Pushing my weight off the floor carefully, I get my knees beneath myself, leveling my line of sight with the edge of the table. The shiny thing is still there. It's bigger than I'd thought. It looks like some kind of silver, mini briefcase thing, just sitting there harmlessly.

I grab the box from the table, setting it on my legs as I position myself a bit more comfortably. It seems like stretching out those muscles is helping me maneuver better. Good. That means my damage in my legs is just stiffness, or they were asleep, or something else completely stupid and irritating. Whatever. Not the time.

The box only has two simple clasps, and with a flick of my thumbs they come undone easily. The spring-loaded lid opens by itself slowly. The contents seem entirely random at first. A rather strange looking sword hilt, some odd silver technologic looking chip, and possibly the most important item in there: a note.

It was actually a holographic pad of some kind, but the point was, whoever left me here has decided to leave a message. Hopefully, I could get some answers from it. Grabbing it and quickly holding it in front of my eyes I read:

I hope you read this in time. My name isn't important right now. I don't know who you are, or what you were doing here in the Omega System, but you saved my life not even 48 hours ago. I'm guessing from your clothes under your armor (sorry, it was too busted up to repair, so I left it. I dressed the wounds as well as I could, as I didn't have enough medi-gel to heal it completely at the time), that you're a soldier from the Human Alliance (Wait, soldier? What?).

Omega was the only place I could think of to take you, and hopefully you are reading this safe and sound. The Alliance isn't really as respected out here as it is in Council Space, so I left you with that blade you used to kill those geth that snuck up on me.

I know this is so much to read, but this is all important. There should be a change of clothes on the couch. Use that instead of your uniform, and don't leave the room. I don't know what your story is, but people seem to want you dead, judging by the few attacks by individual bounty hunters I dealt with while dragging you around (I shuddered, thinking about the filth of this room and being dragged across it with wounds).

I got your Omni-tool's address while you were unconscious so I'll send you a message later if things get too troublesome while you are unconscious. Hopefully it will give you enough time to get up, read this, and move. The credit chit should help you buy a ticket off Omega, and back to the Citadel. I'm heading there as well, but if circumstances force you to leave, then maybe I'll see you there

I had some things to take care of, so I doubt I'll be here when you wake up.

I'll do my best to return quickly,

T

So, my reading skill went up one point from that wall of text, but at least I know I'm not in this alone. T seems decent enough, at least. I guess I'll know for sure when they get back here. Shifting my weight to my right, I slide my legs out from under me before they fall asleep again. I seriously don't want to have another intimate moment with the floor.

Standing up isn't so tough now, I note as I stretch my arms over my head and arch my back. My side sears with pain as a result from stretching my abs. Forgot about that. I clip the sword hilt to a magnetic strip on my hip and the chit into a small pocket in the shorts, and try to walk over to the couch. My left leg threatens to give out again, as it tingles from the sensation of being asleep. Slowly and carefully, I hobble my way over to the couch, hoping that T had left me that change of clothes from the note.

Sure enough, there was a brown vest, a long pair of pants in the exact same hideous hue, along with a red sleeveless shirt. I slowly remove my shirt, trying to avoid another experience with my side flaring up, only to notice the bloody bandages wrapped tightly around the left side of my abdomen.

What the hell happened to me? You know what? Better to ask T. They seem to know a bit more about whatever is happening than me.

Wait…

No, that can't be right.

Shit!

I look around frantically. This can't happen! There's nothing! The words in the note sounded familiar, but held no meaning to them. This pain in my side from an injury I don't remember getting, -from some kind of fight I don't remember fighting, against geth and I don't even remember what those are!

My memory… who I am…where I come from…

It's all gone.

I fall to my knees once again, clutching the navy blue t-shirt, as tears stream from my eyes like some scared child. I'm no one. I have no place I know, no person to explain any of it to me, not even a name to call myself. "Where am I?" I manage to sob out. Omega? Where ever the fuck that is. "What's going on around here?" Well apparently, people want me dead.

"Who am I?" That's the only question I don't have an overly vague answer for. A soldier? I'm crying in a dirty room, so I'm gonna say that's not a very soldier-ish way to act. "Who am I?" I ask again, lowering my head into my Alliance shirt as the tears flow more freely.

"WHO THE FUCK AM I?" I yell into the uniform, pulling back from the tear stained top.

I open my eyes, unballing my fists, staring at the navy blue shirt in front of me. Nothing special about it. The same as I am right now. The only thing to identify it is the logo of the Human Alliance Military (whatever that is) and the nametag…

Wait! A nametag! Frantically I wipe my eyes with my forearm, clearing away blurry tears.

There, right below the military symbol….

Right parallel with where the wearer's heart would be…

Was a name.

MY name.

Ben. Ben Karos.

A rush of emotion hit me. Joy? Joy that I wasn't a nameless crying soldier. Confusion? Well, I was feeling that before, so never mind. Determination. That's what it was. I was gonna get out of here and figure out what the hell is happening.

I staggered to my feet, catching myself on the couch as my left leg wobbled threateningly yet again. Once I had my balance, I finished changing, folding my uniform into a size that would fit in the silver briefcase. I hobble back over and lay my folded clothes in it, sealing it up and placing it next to the bed and sliding it underneath.

Once that was stowed away, I shuffle my way over to the bed and collapse onto it. Dammit. I'm too tired to look for answers now. I could feel my side throbbing in pain. Definitely in not in a shape for anything but sleep. Fuck cleanliness, I decide. Black invades the edge of my vision as my eyes begin to close, and darkness finally takes me with a smile and a name on my lips.

Ben Karos.

Thump, thump, thump.

"Open the fuck up!" angry voice accompanies the unceremonious beatings on the door. I prop myself up in the bed, suddenly wide awake. Placing my feet on the floor, I stand with little trouble, grabbing the silver briefcase from beneath the bed. I flick it open, grabbing the sword hilt from the strip on the shorts. Hastily, I throw the case closed and stow it back under the bed.

I don't know who the fuck is waiting outside, but they don't sound as friendly as the message left by my mysterious ally. That meant one other logical conclusion:

Whoever was hunting me down was doing their job, and doing it well.

"This is your last chance, Karos!" Wait, they know me by name? "Open the door, and we won't kill ya!" Something about that voice didn't sound human… too rough… too dangerous. "Keeping quiet won't help you any! We'll force our way in and take your head instead of the whole thing! The bounty is for dead or alive anyway!"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! Think Karos. T left you that "sword." Well, fat lot of help that does, it's a fucking handle. I stare at it on my belt, practically begging it to actually be a sword of some kind. But the handle was just a handle still, mocking in its silent rebellion.

"Fine!" came the voice from outside again. "You, go get the grenades. We'll blow open this door and bring him out the hard way." Awww, come on! Grenades! All I get is a fucking half a sword and my hunters have GRENADES!

I officially resign to the fact that my luck is the worst ever. I mean , seriously? They have explosives and God knows what else and I'm stuck with this! I smack the pommel of the "sword" against my right leg in frustration. As if being triggered by the impact, a blade extends from the opening in the cross guard. Almost like a spring loaded sword. How odd.

Nothing special about it though. Just a normal metal blade. I could hear a faint hum from it as I stared at it for a bit, swinging, and twirling it around in my hands for a few seconds. The weight… just felt kinda, right, ya know? Like it was made for me. Intricate movements flowed through my head. Memories of things I'd learned? Maybe. Or maybe my body remembers better than my mind and I feel inclined to move according to the physical recollections. I guess this is what they call muscle mem-

A clamping sound on the opposite side of the door snapped me from my reverie as I slipped over to the corner on the opposite side of the door as the couch, sword at the ready for who, or what for that matter, came through that door next…

I just hope I don't need a bigger sword.

A/N: So, that's chapter one. Next time, we'll be looking at a bit of a battle, and maybe a meeting with the enigmatic T, so I'll post some song names to go with that!

I'm gonna have to apologize ahead of time because I really like leaving cliffhangers. It's so much fun! Anyway please review and tell me how I'm doing. I'll do my best to make regular updates, provided people like my story. Yeah, I know the start is slow and vague, but think of it this way: You already know more about Ben's situation than he does! He doesn't even know what a geth or even an Omni-tool is! So, bear with him and myself please. :)