Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect. Bioware does.

This story is very AU. I decided to add a new character in an attempt to expand Cerberus's experiments even more...and to show how these experiments would affect the Normandy crew. This story will be rated M for violence, language, and adult themes (though that will be much later.)

Italics are thoughts.

This story will switch between character POV's occasionally.

Chapter One: Sorting the Wings

Faolan POV:

Faolan let out a soft huff of breath and froze. She felt the need to gasp for air warring with her fear of the Banshee finding her. Her muscles screamed in agony at being tensed too hard for too long. The carnifex in her hand felt like it was getting increasingly heavy to hold any longer; the barrel of it shaking violently just inches from the ground.

An ear splitting wail sounded on the other side of the room, and she flinched hard enough to let the pistol's tip tap against the ground. She bit the inside of her cheek and tasted blood, praying that the Banshee had not heard it. She could feel it more than hear it step closer. She squeezed her thin fingers tightly around the carnifex, trying to steady herself if it moved around her meager cover of crates. Its loud breathing sent a thrill of fear and anticipation coursing through her.

But just before it moved around the cargo crates, a sharp rapport of rifle fire sounded from the hallway. It was followed by the cannon like boom of a heavily modified shotgun, and indistinct voices yelling orders. She couldn't tell if they were Cerberus operatives or Alliance personnel; both groups had been swarming the base and engaging each other as well as the Reaper forces.

The dark haired girl flinched again as the Banshee let out a gleeful sounding scream. She could feel it warp to the door, and she peeked around her cover to see its misshapen body warp down the hall. Once it was gone, she let herself suck in several deep gulps of air. Her hands slowly quit shaking as the voices down the hall screamed in terror at the Banshee. She squeezed her eyes tightly. If it was Cerberus, they could die slowly for all she cared. And if it was Alliance, she hoped they killed it quickly.

As the gunfire picked up rate, she took a last deep breath and opened her eyes. She had to finish her task.

Being in the overhead ducts for the past few hours was wearing her out. As she passed from D Wing into I wing, she paused as a whooping yell sounded above the gunfire, "C'mon, Shepard! Person with the lowest kill score buys the others' drinks!"

"How can you two keep score?!" an exasperated, husky yet feminine voice interrupted Shepard's response.

"Very easily, Li," a third voice laughed, "Just count out loud so you don't lose your place."

"You two are giving away your positions, and- Goddess, you two are incorrigible!"

Faolan wrinkled her nose in confusion. She had heard the name Shepard a few times from some of the Cerberus scientists. But they had all said she was dead. Maybe this was a different Shepard. When the first, rough voice yelled about destroying damn Cerberus troops, Faolan decided to mull it over later and increased her pace, using the sound of the firefight to muffle her frantic scrambling.

"Okay, so the Alliance has three wings purged. Cerberus is bunked down on the northwestern part of the base." Faolan thought as she peered out of a small grate into the room beyond where Shepard was fighting. "And the Husks are swarming this room. And the next room." She shifted to lie on her stomach, wincing as it gurgled faintly. With a tired sigh, she moved a few feet down the duct, pausing at the gaping hole caused by a gas leak explosion.

She inhaled silently and counted to ten in time with her breaths. Her ears twitched at the whimpered moans from the Husks. She gripped her pocket knife in her right hand, and gently tapped the cloaking trigger on her belt. Then, as silently as possible, she eased herself out of the duct and into the room.

She immediately pressed her back against the nearest wall, her knife the only comfort. Around her milled the agitated Husks, nearly in a frenzy from the sound of gunfire in the next room. She stood still, barely breathing. If she hadn't timed this right-

WHOOSH! The door across the room slid open, and a woman covered in tattoos charged in, throwing Husks about with a laugh. The Husks rushed to the door, and Faolan dropped to a crouch to dash to the other side of the room. She pressed her back against the wall beside the door just as Shepard and an asari came through, both firing pistols nonstop. The redheaded woman took a step back and to the side, and Faolan quickly slid along the wall to avoid contact.

When the commander stepped forward again, she looked up and grinned. The open duct was right above her. Using the firefight as cover for her noise, she jumped and grasped the edge of the opening, wincing as the metal sliced into her palm. She pulled herself up; frantically praying Shepard did not step back again and bump into her dangling legs. With a grunt of pure determination, she willed her aching arms and hands to pull her into the duct. She had made it around the bend in the duct just as her cloak dissipated and the gunshots stopped. She paused, unwilling to let her movements attract attention. As she waited, she inspected her palms; torn ragged and bleeding profusely. She gingerly applied the last of her medigel, not registering the quiet voices in the room below.

Shepard POV:

Commander Shepard shipped her pistol and stepped back to lean on the wall, a happy remark on the tip of her tongue when a bead of wetness splashed against her cheek. She flinched and stepped to the side, looking above her. There, gaping into blackness was an open duct with blood clinging to the lip.

"Human blood," she thought, absently reminding herself that the modified Cerberus troops now had a bluish black blood, similar to the Reapers.

"Hey, Liara," she called the asari to her, who was followed closely by Jack. "Where do these ducts lead?"

Liara raised a curious brow but said nothing as she activated her omnitool.

"What's wrong, Shepard?" Jack asked, a bored look on her face.

Shepard showed the smeared blood on her fingers. "I don't think we are the only humans on the base."

"Well, shit," Jack grunted and let her biotics fill her hand. "Should I knock the ducts down?"

Shepard shook her head, "No, I want to know why they didn't attack us."

The pony-tailed woman scoffed. "Crazy as ever, Shepard."

"Commander," Liara interjected, "the ducts lead to the main storeroom, three wings away. The whole wing is pretty secure."

"Hmm," the commander ran a hand through her hair, grimacing at the gore in it. "Jack, go find Garrus and stay with his team. You need to eat something; replenish your stamina. Tell Tali to meet me and Liara here."

The tattooed biotic nearly made a remark, but merely scoffed at the look Shepard gave her. She turned and stalked out of the room, muttering about pushy soldiers as Liara and Shepard rested against the wall.

Faolan POV:

Faolan had carefully navigated through the broken ducts and rooms, finally making it to the last duct before her room. She eased a pocket knife from her cargo pants and eased it into the corner of a grate. She jiggled it as quietly as possible while twining her fingers as best as she could through the slots. When she had the second corner free, she jerked it away from its place and set it to the side. She slid out of the duct and landed in a crouch, waiting a heart beat before straightening. As she did, hands tightly grasped her legs and pulled.

A/N: This story will be revolving around Faolan, a young girl at the age of 12 at the start of this story. Most of the Normandy crew will make appearances. Shepard, Liara, Garrus, Tali, Miranda, and Jack will have the most appearances. I have a general idea of how this story will progress, however some of those things may change. I'm going to try and keep the story as consistent as possible. Some of the key story quests will appear in here, but they will be altered, as will the eventual ending. I will try to update this story as much as possible.