A/N: So were finally in the city... Enjoy all the shenanigans Shepard gets up to in a sprawling city of primitive aliens.

Italics indicate thought.

Chapter Start

Location: Eden Prime. (Unknown Praetorian city)

Time: 2700 hrs

Estimated Population density: 300,000

As their cart's wheels clacked, clicked, and tumbled along the cobblestone roadway, Shepard's eyes widened and filled with wonder as he gazed upon the towering white walls surrounding the Praetorian city. They were easily over three hundred feet tall and went on for what seemed like miles, dominating the immediate field of vision. But what was most breathtaking was that every thousand feet or so of wall, there was a single, super massive, intricately carved, stone Praetorian warrior; holding out his arm with an upturned hand, as if halting some unseen foe. Challenging any would be invaders to rethink the logic of their actions.

"First time gazing upon the Guardians of Kowloon?" asked Brynjar, a knowing infliction in his dual toned voice.

Shepard could only nod like a starstruck Asari seeing the citadel for the first time, and muttered a quick lie. "I've only heard stories from travelers. But to glimpse upon them with my own eyes... It's breathtaking." pointing to the statue who stood guard over the city's entrance, he noted its distinct feminine nature, "Who's that?"

"That is ancestor Syrio, the Titan of Kowloon." replied Brynjar, "Legends say that when the Reapers descended from the heavens to ravage our lands with fire, Syrio used her mystical shield to conceal us from Harbinger's and Sovereign's gaze. Sparing our destruction."

Ancestor Syrio, mystical shield, Armageddon myth; maybe explaining a meteor shower of some kind?... Reapers: Harbinger and Sovereign... Probably should pick up a few religious texts while I'm here.

"~Ooh! ~Ooh! Look!" Bjorn pointed to a moving dot in the sky, "There's ancestor Weiss'rain, making his rounds across the heavens."

John looked up and had a sudden coughing fit as he saw the faint glint from the Alliances low orbiting spy satellite.

Oh shit!... Heh heh, I guess we can throw cross cultural contamination out the airlock... I wonder if this little revelation will dampen my punishment from Dr. Magnus? I mean, I can't really contaminate a culture if it's already contaminated.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine... Just swallowed a bug." John lied as he coughed a few more times as he took a sip of water from Brynjar's offered leather skin pouch. "Ancestor Weiss'rain? I don't recollect mentioning of the deity in my studies."

"With good cause." Brynjar replied as he sip from the pouch, "Before he appeared in the heavens, Weiss'rain was considered a lesser ancestor. Only receiving small patronages from letter carriers. But now that he's made his presence known, he's been elevated in title. There's even rumors of constructing a temple for him in the capital."

By Athame's blue fucking tits! I was hoping the contamination was only minor. Now they're building goddess damn temples to an Alliance spy satellite. Christ! This is the stuff of cheesy, B rate, sci-fi movies.

"So, about these Guardians?" John asked as he made a few notes in his journal.

"They're okay." Bjorn stated nonchalantly, "My friends say the Guardians at the capital are three times as big. And house giant spell cannons in their hands," excitedly standing, the boy raised his right arm and gripped his wrist, "that can obliterate an enemy miles away!"

Shepard and Brynjar reeled back in their seats as a sudden small emerald hued fireball of dark energy erupted from the boys palm. After traveling about three feet it dissipated into the surrounding air.

"Bjorn!" his father yelled, glaring at him with all four of his eyes. Suddenly lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "What have your mother and I told you about using spells?"

Bjorn's shoulders slumped as he collapsed back down onto his burlap sack seat. "I'm too young, and not without supervision." he bemoaned.

"And?"

"Aaaand magic isn't a toy for my amusement."

"Very good."

Okay... So their biotics are green. They call them spells and think they're magic. By the looks of it, they're still unrefined constructs... Must buy some texts on the subject, or observe fighting pits, if they have them, to be sure... And the statues built into their walled cities house biotically powered anti-siege weaponry... Interesting. Very interesting.

Getting closer, Brynjar reached back into his pack and retrieved a dark brown wooden tablet; it wasn't much larger than the Praetorian's palm, and Shepard saw it had an official looking seal caved into the wood.

Yellow bushel; probably wheat, and two gray and black sickles crisscrossing over the center... A farming guild maybe? Or maybe some sort of merchants order?... Maybe it's an identification tag for customs?

A flash of worry sparked through Shepard's mind. "Will I require one of those to enter, Kowloon?"

"Not unless you plan on bringing wares to market."

"You need a pass to sell goods?"

"You really aren't from around these parts are you?" Brynjar asked rhetorically as he placed the pass in his lap. "Kowloon is the nexus for commerce for nearly all the surrounding lands, T'soni. As much of its goods are shipped to other markets throughout the empire, quality is tightly regulated by the state."

"Interesting." Shepard hummed as he took the pass and examined it thoroughly. Thank the goddess I don't need identification to enter... That could've been troublesome. Seeing several tick marks on a box grid below the emblem, he asked, "What do these markings mean?"

"It's a regulator report; denoting the grade of my grain. It stipulates the amount of coin I'm entitled to charge for a pound of my grain. Ensuring that neither seller nor buyer can take unnecessary advantage of the other."

So it's essentially price setting by the state to stop inflation. I wonder if the state subsidizes farmers?

"And is this... New?" John wanted to say 'new system set in place by the government' but didn't have the proper words at his disposal.

"Indeed." Brynjar replied with a glance of skepticism. He'd never encountered someone who didn't know such common, trivial things. But then again, T'soni's hands, clothes, and the way he spoke told him he came from money. Probably never worked a day in his life. Brynjar clamped down on his trills, keeping his disdain from being known. "Trade regulations were one of the first mandates Emperor Heimj'al enacted when he came to power. Enabling low born farmers across the empire a fair chance at raising their stature."

"It's why we call him, Heimj'al the Great." added Bjorn. "Also, he has dragons. Only great Praetorians can ride dragons... And his daughter is quite beautiful. Odd, but beautiful."

I don't know which part of those statements stands out more? The shifting social hierarchy, the mentioning of a beautiful princess, or the fact that theirs fucking dragons!

"~Oh." Brynjar mused mirthfully with a smile at his sons antics, "Taking an interest in girls now, Bjorn?"

"Daaaaaad." his son whined as he buried his face in his hands. The frills along his blue green neck turned a light shade of purple in embarrassment. "Stop."

"Explains why I find you toiling your days away observing Gavorn's daughters, instead of working the fields with your brothers." Looking to T'Soni, he clarified. "Gavorn Vickers is an old war buddy and our neighbor. He has three lovely daughters needing husbands, and I have three sons needing wives."

"Ah, arranged marriage."

"Exactly. That's what the future holds for our families... Unless of course other suitors come along."

"Daaad! Stop!" Bjorn pouted and retreated to the back of the cart while the two men shared a laugh at his innocence.

After everything calmed down, Shepard asked, "What makes the princess so, odd?"

"Nothing." Replied Brynjar as he directed his cart to a special lane for merchants, "But many nobles are dissuaded by her strong assertions and obsession with learning."

"I see." Shepard crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat. Obsession with learning... Wait till she gets a load of me. "They want a traditional wife for their son. Solely focused on childbearing and domesticity."

"Precisely... Thank the ancestors that princess Katella's father is the Emperor. And has two sons to carry on his name. Otherwise, I fear the princess would find herself in a very unfavorable position."

"Two sons you say?"

"Javik Vran Ksad, and Lucen Vran Ksad."

The mentioning of the name "Lucen" set off a warning bells in Shepard's mind. Lucen, was a culturally distinct Asari name for their deity of star travel. It didn't appear in any other space-faring race's nomenclature and was as Asari as the scalp crests on their heads. Why, of all things, the name of an ancient Asari goddess would appear in an isolated species dialect, some seventy-five thousand light-years from Thessia, he didn't know.

Sure, the Praetorian and Asari people could have glimpsed a few Prothean murals and formed religious deities around the same text. It wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility or feasibility for both species Lucen's to have some minor similarities. Just as Christianity, Judaism, and Islam shared overlapping scriptures, beliefs, and traditions. But then again, those three earth religions had their roots on the same planet, in the same geographical location, around the same period of time. Not two planets, with two vastly different cultures; each with their own cultural interpretations of the text, separated from each other by a vast ocean of space.

For there to be anything other than minor similarities between the two, it would mean that either an undeniable, honest to god, miracle had taken place. (And Shepard needed to start going to church.) Or that the Prothean's, in their infinite wisdom, had meddled heavily in the Asari's and Praetorian's distant past before mysteriously vanishing.

If Lucen is in fact a Prothean creation, the implications are... Troubling, to say the least.

In his mind, Shepard's next question would decide the matter. "Javik and Lucen as in...?"

"Indeed. They're named after the ancestral gods of vengeance, and heavenly travel."

"Heavenly travel?" John's throat dried as his face paled.

"Yes. Legends say ancestor Lucen saw our people aimlessly wondering the seas and land-"

"And as ships became lost to the waves, and men to the forests, his heart filled with grief for the loved ones left widowed. So much so that he came down from the heavens to gift the people he came to love with knowledge of mapping the heavens. So travelers could safely navigate the land and sea's during the long days and lonely nights."

"Yes, exactly." Brynjar replied as the cart moved foreword a few dozen feet, "So you've heard the tale before?"

"You can say that." Shepard found it difficult to respond. He had more than half a mind to jump off the cart and run back to the observation post and tell them everything. But he knew that if the scientific community (especially Thessia's) was ever going to take his allegations seriously, he needed hard evidence. So John forced himself to maintain his composure and smiled at Brynjar, "I pray the princes do nothing to tarnish their namesakes."

"Agreed."

000

Location: Outside Kowloon city.

Time: 2710

"Princess, I must give voice to my displeasure with your course of action." Ta'Rook hissed; so as not to be overheard by wandering ears, as their supply cart passed through the northern gate. "Not announcing your presence to Lord Whitehall, or to Kowloon's Justicars... 'Tis inviting disaster, M'lady. Do you know how difficult it is to protect you in such a vast population?"

"Yes, which is exactly why we have gone to such extravagant lengths to disguise our true identities."

"I do not like it, M'lady."

"Unless you wish to draw attention our way; refrain from addressing me as M'lady, Princess, or your highness... Use the title I have instructed."

"Very well... Senana." she heard the grimace in his thrums. Like she had grievously wounded him.

"See, was that so difficult, Ishan?" Katella innocently asked as she watched the shop merchants go about selling their wares, "We're dressed as commoners, and my chest is bound in wrappings. Were anyone to gaze our way they would see nothing more than a traveling quartet of merchantmen, looking to spend some coin."

"Indeed. No one will suspect a thing." Caslio said with a jovial smile and mirthful trill. Clasping his hand on the rigid Captain's shoulder, he asked, "Has anyone told you you worry too much?"

"Remove your hand, or I shall take it souvenir."

All joy left Caslio's frame as his hand reared back as if he'd touched glowing iron. "You need to relax, Ishan. You'll live longer."

"Yield addressing me as friend, young lord." Ta'Rook fixed the boy with a soul destroying death glare, "You'll live longer."

"By Xanadu's cock! 'Tis he always so unpleasant?" asked Arrusius sardonically from the back of the cart; his eyes perusing the aquamarine flesh of the Pergulae whores; enticing men from their balconies with sweet songs and promises of Nirvana. "I shan't fathom how your good nature blossomed in such displeasing soil."

"The Ancestors works are mysterious." Katella sighed and massaged her temple. "But 'tis best not to give it much mind. Despite his nature, he possesses a valiant heart and caring spirit... You just have to get to know him better."

"His loyalty and devotion to your safety is commendable," said Caslio, attempting to keep relations cordial. "a worthy goal for all to aspire too. However, Ishan, you can rest easy. Arrusius and I gave the Emperor our word that as long as our bodies drew breath, no harm shall befall the Princess."

"My word, what a noble statement." Ta'Rook sneered, and nearly gave a caustic laughed. He served the house of Ksad, and owed these lords no bonds of fealty or civility. "Idiotic, foolish, idealistic, but noble none the less."

"Excuse me, but you think our words empty gesture?" Arrusius hotly stated, "You think us infants; incapable of defense!?"

Ta'Rook only deeply laughed at the juvenile display before hardening his features, "Tell me young lords; what do you know of war? Of battle? Of killing?..." their silence spoke volumes, "You're both highborn. You've never served, you've never seen death, you've never seen the true brutality of what one man can do to another. Were you a few years older you would already know of what I speak. But you're young, and I give thanks to the ancestors everyday for that, and pray you shall never see a battlefield."

"You think us cowards?" Arrsius was clearly offended, "You think we couldn't handle it?"

"I did not say you were cowards, young lords," Ta'Rook replied as he turned their cart down another road, "I said you were stupid. A coward at least possess intelligence to know to be afraid of battle... I doubt you know nothing more than the romanticized stories you've read in books, or the fictitious, skewed tales the mistrals sing about in court."

"Ta'Rook." Katella softly pleaded with him and placed her hand on his shoulder. Never in her life had she ever heard him speak so frankly.

"No, Senana..." he replied and turned his gaze back upon the young lords, "Like so many your age, you speak of war like it's a game. That theirs some inherent nobility in combat, or glory in death... You know not of what you speak, but I do. I have seen the bloodshed, I have heard the screams, and I can resolutely tell you; their is no glory." he noticed his soliloquy had the desired effect on the boys, and he sighed, he knew he was being too hard on them. "Apologies, I did not mean this as insult, young lords. My only intentions were to educate... You see this trip as a vacation, but to me, it is an opportunity for the Emperors enemies to strike at his heart."

"Yes, but Lord Whitehall is a loyal banner-man of my father, and is a friend of the crown. I doubt we need to be so worried about enemies so close to home." behind her, both Arrisus and Caslio were silent as they tended to their wounds.

"I envy you, Senana. I wish I could see the world through your eyes."

Katella closed her eyes and sighed, wishing her father had not insisted Ta'Rook come with her. She wasn't a child, she felt she was more than capable of handling herself should she need too. But as she was a Princess, this was an inevitability. In fact she counted herself fortunate that her father hadn't sent his entire Royal court guard as her escort. Hopefully, if the ancestors were willing, nothing would happen to justify her fathers or Ta'Rook's fears. If they did, Katella knew she may very well be confined to the palace for the next few months, if not years.

"Come, it's been a long journey. Let us find an inn so we can rest and settle our things." her sentiments were mirrored by her party, and her hand idly stroked the heavy purse lashed to her waist-belt. It held the bulk of their allowance; a hundred gold coins. A hefty sum to say the least, and more than enough to purchase whatever they would require during their two week stay. "One not too lavish, but one not too dilapidated either... Any thoughts gentlemen?"

"There's no shortage of modest Inn's in Kowloon." said Caslio as he looked around, "Though I recommend we try to stay away from ones nearest the marketplaces, palace, or central roads. Those tend to be more on the high end scale, catering to visiting wealthy nobles and highborn merchants."

"Perhaps we should stay at a brothel?" Arrisus mused as he watched the going's on at a slave auction.

"Absolutely not." Ta'Rook stated coldly as he saw several vile men enter one such establishment, "We will sleep in an alleyway before I allow, Senana rest in such a loathsome place."

"It would help sell our cover." Caslio added, not to passionately as he knew who's presence he was in. But it still earned him a skeptical look from the Princess, "Well it would... Wouldn't a brothel be the first destination four lowborn men would go after a long journey together?"

Katella wasn't naive. She knew about sex and the differences between men and women; a benefit of having a palace library filled with all sorts of treasures, she was just a little innocent on the subject. "No... And that's all I will say on the subject."

"Doesn't matter," Arrisus plainly stated, "nearly all Inn's have some form of Diversoriums, or keep Blitidae's and Copea's on staff... Though, the higher the establishment, the higher the caliber of pleasure girls."

"Whatever you decide, we should first find a currency exchange center." said Ta'Rook. "Having only coins of gold is suspicious."

"Agreed." replied Katella, "Perhaps someone there could better aid us in our decision?"

"It is settled." Ta'Rook stated as he set the cart in motion once more, "Off to market we go."

000

Location: Outside Kowloon city, southern entrance.

Time: 2720

Mother fucking god damn it! Damn him! Damn that man! Jack mentally screamed from atop her treetop perch as she watched Shepard's cart get ushered inside the city. As it disappeared, she knew the possibility of sweeping this incident under the rug with command being none the wiser was now an impossibility. God damn you Johnathan, I can't protect you now. You're on your own.

Activating her radio, Jack contacted Zaeed, "Massani, he's inside the city."

"I'm aware, we're tracking him now." Jack could hear the distress in his voice.

"If he's trying to hide, he's doing a piss poor job of it... What are our orders? Have you heard anything from command?"

"We're handling this in-house, Jack. We're not contacting command. Taylor's already on board. I'm pretty sure you are as well."

"Damn straight. What's the plan?"

"You four are the closest assets we have in play, and our best chance at ending this peacefully. Enter the city cloaked, and make contact with him. If you can't convince him to come back by nightfall, both our strike teams will infiltrate the city while Taylor's provides over-watch."

The line suddenly hissed with static. "You guys really need to update your security protocols." Shepard's voice crackled in their ears. "I've honestly seen better programming on Liara's diary... Oh, and if you're coming into the city, you're gonna need this." Jack felt her omni-tool vibrate as a download started, a moment later it finished. "There, that program will update your tactical belts; enabling them to create a Praetorian avatar hologram... You've got six male, and six female templates to chose from. And modest wardrobe of outfits and colors to choose from. So, you girls have fun accessorizing... Oh! But stay away from any shade of violet, it seems to be the hue reserved for high end whores and prostitutes."

Zaeed resisted the urge to yell, "Shepard... I'm only gonna say this once-"

"How about nunce?" John retorted as he leaned his head around the corner to check and see if anyone was coming down the alleyway he had ducked into. "Believe it or not, I actually know what I'm doing."

"That so?" The sarcasm in Zaeed's voice was nearly palpable.

"I'm just gonna do a little shopping, take in the sights, and get to know the local indigenous culture better... I'll be back in a few days."

"Prey tell, how are you gonna do that 'igit? I doubt they take citadel credits."

"Pleeeease, do you really think I'd be so shortsighted, Zaeed? C'mon, you know me better than that."

"What did you do? Mass fabricate coins from the Firebase's gold & silver reserve that was meant for building electronic circuits?"

A long silence permeated the channel. Jack swore she heard a cricket chirp.

"Well this has been fun, but I really gotta go. Talk to you later." Shepard lowered his arm and deactivated the channel.

Part 1 end.

A/N: As I said, this will most likely be a three part chapter.

If you like the story and feel so inclined, please leave a comment or review.