A/N: Shorter chapter- working on my Frozen stories more, but this popped out and although short, you Mass Effect fans deserve your fix too.

Anyway…

Lights. Camera. Slaughter!

Mass Effect: Reality Locus

Chapter 4: Martial Prowess

It took a few minutes, but finally we got ready to assault the bar. The fact that Ashley had to wait outside? Icing on the cake.

When we walked into the seedy strip bar, the first thing I did was unload a HE Arrow into a Krogan's face. His shield and natural resiliency kept him alive, although he was knocked on his ass.

My follow up leap that took me across the length of the bar and ended fist-first through his cranium?

Cause of Death: Leaping Facepunch of Doom.

I might have to copyright that.

As I stood up, I took stock of the situation. Shepard and Garrus were working over a few idiots near the doors who just charged them- Garrus got a collateral kill via sniper, while Shepard pulled a classic and a poor assault rifle wielding merc got a face-full of futuristic buckshot. Wrex was wreaking havoc- he was ignoring the incoming fire and his own shotgun in favor of wading in and smashing heads. He grabbed two idiots who got too close and turned them into conjoined twins- at the head. I winced; that was brutal. Finally, the men oriented on me got over the shock of someone drop-punching a Krogan to death and started peppering me with rifle fire. I took cover and re-drew my bow, aiming along a trajectory path that my HUD projected onto my retina. Drawing the cable back, I prepped an armor piercing arrow, and let fly. The arrow flew true, penetrating the thin table I aimed at and spearing the man behind it in the neck, just in line with the spine. One more down. Across the way, I hear a yell of panic and an unfamiliar roar; I look over and the world slows.

A Krogan- most likely a warlord, judging by the hammer the size of a car's engine block- was standing over Shepard, hammer in mid-swing and glowing with biotic energy. I did the only thing I could think of at that moment- I disengaged the safeties on my armor suit's joints and moved.

A little known fact about the race that I was adopted into? They have an extreme reaction to the 'Fight or Flight' instinct. Depending on which side was triggered, one could gain ridiculous resistance to pain while the chemical limiters on the muscular system temporarily relax, or you get an absurd quickening of neurological functions, causing your reaction speed to barely be measurable, and causing the fast-twitch muscles in the body to work at increased efficiency. I had discovered that my unique biology allowed me to activate them by will, but only during elevated stress times; in other words, I needed adrenaline to spike my system into action.

At this point, I chose "Flight." I was across the intervening distance in less than two seconds, the hammer just having started to swing down towards her face. I arrived, and acted.

I grabbed the hammer's handle just below the Krogan's grip and twisted- this caused his biotic effect on the hammer to dissipate, and allowed me to relieve him of said weapon. Leveraging him up and around, using the momentum of his swing, I slammed him onto the ground opposite Shepard. Stunned, he could only goggle at me as I raised his own hammer and brought it down straight onto his face. The noise was disgusting- Blood, bone, brain and a mixture of all three was sent flying as his head and shoulders ceased to exist- his barrier didn't hamper my swing at all. Still in my blood-rage, I stand up and shift from "Flight" to "Fight." Feeling the burn of my muscles overclocking, I heft the hammer in one hand with ease and throw it at the nearest group of mercs. I hit one head on, and the hammer obliterates his torso, tearing a huge hole in it as it sails through and bashes the man behind him in the legs, turning them into little more than bags of shredded muscle and bone gravel. I follow the hammer, grabbing and throwing all in my way towards the mercs- chairs, tables, other mercs- didn't matter. Every projectile I launched killed or crippled, and I tore through the crowd, not even noticing that the team I came in with had stopped shooting in amazement and horror. As the last merc gurgled through his crushed ribcage, I sighed and released my hold on my rage, fatigue rushing up on me as my boost wore off. Stumbling a bit, I make my way over towards the team. Before I can say a word, Shepard freaks.

"Holy SHIT! Was that REALLY NECESSARY?! This is a bloodbath of epic proportions! What the HELL set you OFF?!"

I look over at her, sigh, sit down on a relatively blood-free chair, look her in the eye and speak.

"What set me off? That was normal for me; I'm protective of those I fight with. I saw that warlord standing over you and reacted- would you rather be a stain on the floor?"

That shut her up quick. She gives me the fish eye as the group rests a bit. Wrex just shifts impatiently, wanting this to be over with. Finally, we're ready to go on. By unspoken agreement, I take point and head down the hallway. I spot the dock-workers, give them a glare and a growl, and they sprint off screaming before the others can even react. Wrex still has a comment, though.

"You should have killed them- they had weapons pointed at you."

I look over and give him a deadpan stare. "I could have- and the second one of them pulled the trigger, they would all die. But they didn't, and I didn't have to kill some misguided civvies, and so that is a good thing."

I end the discussion by opening the door to Fist's office, revealing the man and setting off his auto turrets. We take cover, and shoot back. The Turrets don't go down easy; they're heavily armored, and don't seem to need to vent that often. Finally, I get grumpy.

"I've had enough of this shit. Fist, turn off the turrets before I use you as a meat shield for them." The idiot laughs, and begins to taunt us. Feeling the throb in my temple worsening at his irritating spiel, I just give up and go. Sprinting from cover, I make for the turret on the left- it's more exposed, and I'm willing to bet the other turret has safeties to prevent it from firing on its twin. Charging across the room, my shields go down quick and I take three rounds- one in the chest that is stopped by my armor, one in the left arm that isn't too bad- I ignore it, and one in the leg- just as I reach the turret. Stumbling, I throw myself behind the turret's firing arc and pull a molecular disruption blade from my flatspace storage. Thusly armed, I hack at the casing and wiring until it smokes and goes still. Turning, I ignore the pain in my leg and arm and sprint for the other turret, vaulting over Fist and his desk as I go. I manage to grab his gun as I pass overhead, and when I land next to the turret I use it as a club and jam it straight into the swivel base, shattering both the turret's connections and the rifle. Standing up, with Shepard, Garrus and Wrex behind me, I walk over to the whimpering Fist.

I look him in the eye and speak in a low voice. "You have a lot of questions to answer, and not a lot of time. You get one out, and then I start breaking important things, capiche?"

His frantic nod is his answer. I wave Shepard forward, and she begins interrogating the man. I half listen, more to see if I can catch him in a lie or not. Too bad he took my threat seriously- I would have loved to follow through on it with that piece of shit. Finally, Shepard's done questioning him. I see her walk away, and Wrex walk up. He racks his gun and-

*BANG*

Look ma, no head!

Shepard looks over, horrified. I stop her oncoming tirade. "Shepard, Wrex was hired to kill him- he puts his job first, and really? That sack of donkey balls deserved a much worse death than that. So, let's get the hell out of here and clean up, yeah?"

Her jaw works for a moment before she nods. We walk out, them heading for their dock, and me for my ship. A quick rapid transit ride and I arrive. Entering my ship, I notice something odd- I smell nachos.

I didn't program that into the meal system, so I went on high alert. Turns out, I didn't need to. I arrived in the main cargo bay to find a mako-sized bowl of nachos waiting for me. I look around, bewildered, before looking up to the ceiling and reading the text that Loki wrote.

"That was kinda a Gouda two shoes thing to do, eh? Why help them? Bah, I don't care, you just make things fun! And as for the nacho's? Well, they're here… FOR THE CHEESE!"

As I read the last word, the nacho bowl suddenly erupts, spraying hot cheese everywhere. It covers me and my armor, and I groan- the blood and battle debris are going to be hard enough to get out, but this stuff?!

I needn't have worried. The junk vanished after a moment, leaving the room and my armor sparkling clean.

Pleasantly surprised, I head to the galley to eat and plan my next move.