A/N: Hey guys, I've been on the site reading others' stories for a while and decided to give it a crack of my own so any feedback, positive or negative, is appreciated. I'll mostly be sticking to canon but as this will be an insert of an OC (that in not an SI by the way,) there will be a couple things that get shaken up. Also, I've tried my best to research and present the technical aspects of the story in terms of military ranks and having a realistic progression. However, my military experience is non-existent so any feedback from someone who actually knows about this kind of thing would be thoroughly appreciated as I want to do my best to portray something my respect for is immense as accurately as I can.

Last bit, I will be using guns and biotic/tech powers from ME2 and 3 from the beginning as I couldn't find anything on the dates they came into existence in ME 'verse (except for charge, which was after the L5 implants as far as I can tell) but thermal clips won't be around until 2, and with that, let's start.

Disclaimer: Everything is Bioware's, I don't own anything except my OC's and a couple plot ideas of my own. Also, I don't have enough cash for it to be worth the time and effort to sue me, so there's that.

(And I apologize in advance, some of the line breaks are a bit wonky, could not get them to cooperate for the life of me but everything will be cleared up in a few chapters, thanks!)

(End of A/N)

"So, I'm not really sure how to start this…" I scratched my hair and looked at the ceiling in thought before sighing. As I returned my focus back to the center of the room, the voice recorder on my arm stared me in the face, mocking my indecision. "Doctor Chakwas said it'd be a good idea to voice my thoughts out loud. Apparently it's a good coping mechanism or something like that but now I've got absolutely no idea where to begin. And that's why I'm stuck here." I exhaled again in frustration. "This is going to drive me frickin' crazy."

Another few moments of silence passed before I found a topic. "Well, I guess I could explain why it is that I need a psych evaluation in the first place. It's been about three months since Saren, a famous Spectre gone rogue, along with an army of robots called Geth led an invasion of the Citadel. Apparently if he succeeded everyday life as we know it would've ended. The entire galaxy would've been launched into a battle that we had no hope of winning against a race of immortal machines who destroy the universe every fifty-thousand years, give or take a few. At least that's how I understood it. Whole thing's kind of above my pay grade to be honest. I just go where I'm told and shoot who they tell me to. But where was I?" Tapping my chin, I tried to regain my thought process. "Oh, right, Saren and the Reapers. Like I was saying, the turian's crew tried to take over the Citadel to speed up the hostile takeover. Would've done it too if Shepard hadn't managed to put that turian bastard six feet under along with the rest of his robot buddies."

"Everything was great for a while, award ceremonies, good press and the best part, getting free meals everywhere I went. Then two months ago it all came crashing down." I felt my face harden with the terrible memories that came with this part. "The Normandy was destroyed over Alchera by unknown enemies with tech we can't even compete with. These guys managed to split one of the most advanced ships in the galaxy like it was damn butter. I survived along with the majority of the crew. Unfortunately, Shep was among the casualties, died saving our pilot's crippled ass. Poor guy still blames himself for the whole thing. There were plenty of rumors floating around about who did it but nothing concrete and now those Council idiots are trying to play off the attack on the Geth. Plus they're trying to cover up any evidence of the existence of the Reapers. This despite the fact that there were remnants of Sovereign all over the Presidium for a while. Whole crew's a bunch of fuck-ups if you ask me, but that's a whole other story I'll have to save for next journal."

I fiddled with my omni-tool and opened up the note-taking function. "Note to self. Next time you have to make a journal entry be sure to bash the Council." Clearing my throat, I continued. "Now you might be wondering how some orphaned gang-banger from the streets wound up in the situation of defending the galaxy from genocidal, squid-looking robots. Well, to explain that I'll have to go back to the year 2176. My name is Nathaniel Wolfert and this is my story."

LINE BREAK

"Hey Wolf."

Turning my head, I looked at my fellow gang member, known to me only as Finch. Growing up on the streets of Detroit an orphan hadn't been easy. With a father I'd never known and a mother who'd been dead some dozen or so years in a robbery gone wrong. Life on the streets had begun at a young age for me. Sure there were foster homes that took me in here and there but I never really stayed too long. It just never felt right. Now after a long search, I finally felt like I'd found a home with the 10th Street Reds.

Fingers snapping in front of my face brought me out of my internal dialogue, "Wolf snap out of it. Today's your big day so stay focused alright? You get the privilege of meeting Curt and becoming a full-fledged member of the Reds so please try and look presentable. This affects more than just you." He spread his arms wide in an insistent gesture.

"I'll do my best, don't worry." I pulled at my jeans and red hoodie. Typical clothing for a junior Red like myself. "If we're going to meet with Curt why are we going this way though? I'm not the best with directions but I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's back the other way."

We're heading to Mr. Ramsey's place first. Apparently the boss has seen fit to give you a little gift in anticipation of your entry into the gang."

I tried to get my mind in a state of readiness to meet the head of our chapter of the gang. Curt Weisman didn't get to where he was by being a nice guy and meeting him was a necessary part of every Red's entrance into the crew. Before that happened though, we were apparently meeting up with Jack Ramsey, owner of Ramsey's Armory. Locals knew that if you needed some firepower in a tight spot, the Armory was the place to go. A veteran of the First Contact War, he was known around the city as a kind but firm man. Always willing to help out a person in need but also fully capable of forcibly extracting some unwanted guests from his business. Oh and the guy basically raised me since the day I was thirteen years old.

Swallowing nervously, I tried to make small talk. "So Finch. You're a full Red." I smiled broadly in attempt to charm my way into some info. "What'd you have to do to get in? I was trying to talk to a couple of the other guys but they wouldn't tell me a thing."

"Now you know I can't talk about that. It would ruin the surprise." Finch smirked, "You know…Curt and me we both agree you could do some good work for the Reds. First you've gotta make it through the big test though. Nobody gets special treatment around here, least of all someone who's only a junior member."

Trying one final time to fish for some info with the Red, I pleaded. "Come on Finch, just a little hint. I've put in some hard work. I think I deserve it. What is it Weisman's gonna make me do?" I started punching the air as we walked. "Please?"

"Listen Nate, I'm not gonna tell you again. Just shut your mouth and stick with me. I'm heading to Ramsey's and you're following. End of story." He gave me a friendly tap on the shoulder as he continued. "Sorry but that's just the way it is Wolf. Now let's go to Jack's and get this whole deal over with.

Finch's abrupt cut off of all conversation did absolutely nothing to ease my fears. Still, I decided to take his advice and shut my mouth. As we walked I observed our surroundings. Taking in the streets of the city that I knew so well after living on them my whole life. The walk was pretty uneventful until I gave Finch a quick nudge, seeing something I had only seen before on the omni-net.

Discreetly pointing, I asked what I thought was an innocent question. "Hey Finch, is that an asari?" I whistled appreciatively. "Wow, I have never seen an actual asari and I have to say they somehow look even better in real life."

Instantly his demeanor changed to an icy frown as he turned his head and spat in disgust. "Yeah, she's an asari," He muttered, "They should stick to the Citadel and leave Earth alone. Aliens aren't welcome here."

"What do you mean? You have a problem with them or something?" My facial expression turned into one of confusion. "I don't really get the big deal myself. We've always been fine with the asari and the fight with the turians ended a while ago. It's ancient history."

"Yeah, we're friends now but that's not gonna last. If the scaly bastards don't start something we will eventually." He turned and gave me a glare. "And by the way. I wouldn't go around voicing your flowery opinions to the rest of the guys. I like you so I'm not gonna do a thing this time but they might not take it as nicely as I do Wolf. You're gonna get yourself hurt."

"Alright I get the point. Let's just get to Jack's place. I wanna get this day over with ASAP."

After the blatant racism from Finch we walked the last few minutes to the store in an awkward silence. Arriving outside the low-key location, Finch walked in as the sound of a clanging bell announced our arrival. "I'll be out in just a minute." The gruff voice of the store owner yelled from the back.

I did a 360 as I waited, taking in the store which was covered in a mixture of Alliance posters, armor, and guns of all shapes and sizes. A few seconds later, loud footsteps from behind the counter signaled the arrival of Jack Ramsey. He held his hands out wide and a grin covered his face as he greeted us. "Finch, Nate, it's good to see you boys. Staying out of trouble I take it?"

I smiled at the brawny ex-soldier and gave an expression of fake hurt. "Of course Jack. I'm hurt very deeply that you'd suggest otherwise."

Shaking his head in exasperation Finch spoke up. "It's good to see you again Jack but me and Nate are here on business."

Turning to my companion, I spoke up. "You know, you never did mention why we were coming here."

"I said you were getting a gift so a gift it is. Mr. Ramsey," he said, pointing to the store owner, "Could you pull up your selection of side arms please?"

Opening up his omni-tool, he pulled up the pistols in his inventory as he waved me over. "Alright and here we go. Did you have any particular models in mind Nate?"

"Not really. I guess just a decent all around mix between range, firepower and heat sink size. I'll go with your choice though, you're the expert after all."

He scrolled through inventory pulling up a primarily dark grey pistol with a glossy black hand guard. "This right here is an M11. Just received it into stock in the last few weeks and it's been moving fast." He then adjusted his inventory to pull up the specs. "It's got some solid punch and a bit of recoil but I've seen you fire a weapon and I'm sure you can handle it."

He zoomed in on the front of the weapon. "The suppressor is actually integrated into the pistol itself which is a great feature as you won't have to worry about screwing one in and out. Also, you can fire approximately a half-dozen rounds before the gun overheats. Luckily for both of us Michigan is one of the few states it's legal in but most other parts of the country, well, you'd be S.O.L." He closed up the store selection and looked up at me. "So. You wanted my recommendation this is it, what do you say?"

I stroked my chin in thought. "Sounds good. You're the professional here."

He nodded in response. "Perfect. I'll even throw in a free customization with your purchase. There at the end of the counter is the customization tablet. Hold on one second and…alright, you can go ahead and mess with your color scheme down there. Let me know when you're ready and I'll go to work."

As I walked over, Finch began speaking to Jack. "The cost doesn't matter Jack. Just put it on Curt Weisman's account. He's handling everything." The Red turned towards me. "Wolf, I'm stepping outside. You got everything handled here?"

I simply gave a thumbs up and continued messing with the color scheme.

After Finch exited, Jack looked down the counter towards me. "So, you're joining the Reds officially then Wolf?" I just nodded as I continued my tweaking. "Well. You're nineteen now. You can make your own decisions but just a word of warning from someone who's lived in Detroit for a long time." His facial expression wavered as he tried to speak. The older man's mouth opened and closed multiple times before he sighed resignedly. "Look. Just…stay on your toes around this guy. Weisman's all business and if you want to stay on his good side you should treat things the same way. At least when you're around him."

Looking up from my work, I answered the ex-Marine with an expression of dead seriousness. "Thanks Jack. I appreciate the advice. I'll be careful."

"Good." His face which was previously creased with worry lightened up a bit. "On another note. Are you done with that pistol yet?"

"Yup, it's good to go."

"Alright. I'll be right back with it just hold on a sec."

I sat down in a vacant chair, occupying myself with checking my omni-tool for info about my new toy while I waited for the real thing. In just a short while he walked back out, cradling the new gun in his two large hands. I smiled as he handed it over turning it end over end to admire the raven black paint scheme with two diagonal red stripes running along the back, near the handguard.

"Jack this looks great. Didn't know you were such an artist." I grinned at the man before holding the weapon straight out from my body, pantomiming the act of aiming. When I was satisfied I turned back to the store owner. "As much as I'd love to stay and talk shop with you I'd better go. Finch is probably getting impatient."

"No problem. I'll see you later Wolf." We shook hands before I started walking to the door. "Just remember what I said about Weisman. And if you need anything I'm here for you bud."

"I appreciate the offer Jack." Peeking my head back into the store I made a final comment. "And watch out. Might have to take you up on that offer sometime soon."

I exited the building, still admiring the newly painted gun. "Well it took you long enough." Finch gave a lopsided grin to show he was only joking. "Now let's get going. We shouldn't keep the boss waiting anymore."

I started thinking over what Jack had told me. The more I deliberated the more my heart started to beat with nervousness. By the time we reached the facility, my nerves had hit the boiling point. As we approached, a tall twenty-something blonde holding a pistol came out to meet us. "Hey Finch that you?" His hand lingered on the pistol until we got within identifying distance. As his eyes lit up with recognition his posture relaxed. "Well it's about time you two made it. Better get your inside now so we can get this done with." He turned and looked in my direction, pointing a finger and thankfully not a gun at me. That would've been the last thing I needed. "You Nate Wolfert?"

Trying to appear more confident than I really felt, I swallowed deeply. "Yeah. That's me."

"Well congrats. Heard today's your big day." He leaned in a bit and spoke in a loud whisper. "Word of advice….don't fuck up. Curt doesn't tend to let failures hang around for too long." He returned to his normal posture and a jack-o-lantern like grin crossed his face. "No pressure though, right?"

"Of course not. No pressure at all." I lowered my voice to a difficult to understand muttering. "The thinly veiled threats are going right over my head."

Finch gave me a quick look as he cut in. A look that clearly meant not to say another word. "Let's just get inside and kick this off." He turned to the blonde and pointed to the run-down warehouse.

LINE BREAK

As our guard, Gavin, led us I glanced around the noisy warehouse, taking in the surroundings. We apidly passed through a couple open rooms to a posh, well-kept office that looked like the only nice thing in the warehouse. Behind the desk sat a dark haired, well-tanned man in his early thirties. As we entered he turned to address our tall escort. "Thank you Gavin you can leave now. I only need to speak to these two."

The tall blonde exited the room offering a mock salute. "Sure thing sir."

As he stood he offered a hand to shake. "I finally get to meet the young man who you've spoken of so highly Finch. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Wolfert."

As my hand fell into his vice-like grip, I tried to remember everything I knew about addressing your superiors. "No sir the pleasure is all mine. I've been hoping this day would come and it'd be an honor to become a full-fledged member of the 10th Street Reds. Just tell me what I need to do and it'll get done."

He sat back down waving his hand to indicate we should do likewise. "Respectful but to the point. I like that." A grin that was eerily reminiscent of a shark crossed his face. "Can I call you Nathan?" I simply inclined my head to indicate assent. "Well then Nathan. It is my pleasure to extend an official offer to become a Lieutenant in the Reds."

"Thank you sir. If you don't mind explaining, what would that entail exactly?"

"I'm glad you asked." He moved out of his chair and started pacing back and forth behind his desk. "You would be in charge of a couple junior members," he paused and pointed to my partner, "quite similar to Finch here. There would also be a specific area of the city that you would be tasked with overseeing. The land would be quite small at first but given time and lots of hard work I could see you rising through the ranks and being put in charge of more turf."

The predatory grin returned, leaving me more than slightly unsettled. "But first things first. Before you accept I'd like to give you a tour of our base of operations. What do you say to that?"

I turned to look at Finch and he simply nodded. "Mr. Weisman that sounds great. If you have the time I would love to take a look around."

As we exited the office, Weisman again began his monologue. The gang leader sounded as if he was a tour guide or teacher going over a historical site. "To the left is where our red sand is prepared to be sold by our individual distributors." He indicated a large room where groups of young men and women were boxing and bagging large quantities of a fine, powdery red substance. As we resumed the circuit we came into another room with racks of armor and weapons of all shapes and sizes. "This, as you have probably guessed, is the armory. If we have to deal with a…" He paused, as if searching for the right word, "disagreement, then this is the first place we go to for preparation."

As we slowly strolled through the base of operations Weisman pointed out the jobs that were done at different spaces in the warehouse. Almost every single one of them was illegal, it was just a matter of how high on the scale they went. Finally we reached a neglected looking part of the warehouse where the older man paused. "So Nathan. What do you think now that you've seen the base of my empire?"

"Very impressive sir. I can't wait to begin." Swallowing loudly, I tried to muster up the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing me. "If it's not improper to ask sir. Finch has been telling me there's a test I have to go through first before anything happens. When will I know what mine is?"

He turned, indicating a door. "The first portion is right through here Mr. Wolfert. If you're ready we can begin anytime."

I tried to banish the fear that was hanging over me. "Let's do it then."

Opening the door revealed a flight of stairs leading down into the lower levels of the facility. Almost instantly, a wave of heat rolled over me. As we walked further into the under bowels the intensity only increased until it reached an almost suffocating level. When we finally stopped descending I did a full rotation. Taking in the blazing furnaces littering the room in a haphazard way in all their roaring glory.

"The first test will be dual purpose as it will test your strength and at the same time announce to the world your membership in the Reds." He turned to Finch. "Please prepare everything while we talk here. I'm rather short on time so we need to start the process."

As Finch walked away he continued. "Now as I'm sure you're aware, a business like mine doesn't reach this state of success without making a few enemies along the way. I need to make sure you're capable of dealing with the ramifications of what would happen if you would fall into the hands of our enemies."

I nodded. "Of course sir. I've had my fair share of run-ins with some boys from other gangs and I can hold my own. With the Reds now backing me up too I don't think there's anything I can't handle with help like that."

"That's good. I admire your confidence but you have to understand that mistakes are sometimes made. And when you're in a war that means there will be casualties."

At that point Finch interrupted. "Everything's ready if you guys wanna follow me. It's right over this way."

Further and further into the basement we walked, the heat still ever present. Leaning over I gave Finch a little nudge on the shoulder. "You know you've been really quiet this whole time. Is everything ok?"

"Yeah. I'm doing fine." He exhaled sharply before turning towards me. "Listen. This next bit is gonna be a real bitch but I'll get you through it just," he sighed again, "listen to me alright? Whatever I tell you, however strange, just do it. No questions asked. You do trust me right?" As I shook my head he continued. "Good. We're right about there now so be ready and we'll get this shit over and done with. It'll be just a memory in a few days Wolf."

As we arrived at our location Weisman spoke up. "Grab the rope and towel. I'll handle the other instrument on my own." They both walked in separate directions, leaving me to ponder my fate. What's making Finch so nervous? I've never seen him act this way before and it's doing absolutely nothing to help my nerves. Usually he's a pretty laidback guy but this whole test thing must have him on edge.

As he came back with the rope and towel Finch led me over to a single metal bar hanging from the wall. "Alright Nate. Take your shirt off and put your arms straight up over your head."

"What the h-"

"Hey!" He cut off my exclamation at the head. "Just remember you agreed. We'll get this done but just trust me," he mumbled something that I just barely heard, "for a bit longer at least."

Doing what he said. I laid my hoodie and t-shirt off to the side and stretched my arms vertically. Not wasting any time, he looped the rope around both arms at the wrists, lashing them to the metal bar. At that point Weisman walked back with a red hot metal brand in his lowered right hand. "Are you ready Mr. Wolfert?" I nodded. "Give him the towel Finch."

"What will I need that for?"

Finch answered as he walked over with the item, his head lowered to the ground. "It's so you won't bite your tongue off." Inserting it carefully into my mouth he looked at the Red leader befpre signaling him to begin. As he closed in with the burning metal I bit harder into the towel and the rough material crushed between my teeth.

When it touched there was no feeling for a moment. Then the worst pain I'd felt in my entire life hit. My muffled screams rang through the basement. The echo answering with only more shrieks. As the smell of burnt skin wafted into my nostrils I blacked out.

LINE BREAK

"Hey wake up." A voice pierced through the foggy state I was in, causing me to look around the room. "Wolf are you up yet? Can you hear me?"

As I tried to sit up, a burning pain went through my chest and I hissed in pain. At that moment the memories of what had happened came flooding back and I looked down. The skin around my right pectoral was puffy. An angry-looking sort of red which was raised in the shape of the numeral ten. Finch looked at me and rolled up his sleeve showing a similar mark on his bicep. "Hey look. We match now." With a tight smirk and a humorless chuckle, he continued. "You should be feeling brutally sore but you'll be fine in a couple of days. Curt said not to but I snuck you some medi-gel and slapped it on there. It'll help out with the swelling and pain." He scratched his shaggy hair and an almost sorrowful look was on his face. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you more back there but thanks for trusting me."

I tried to get back up, grimacing from the pain the movement induced. "You're my friend Finch. I knew you wouldn't let anything happen that I couldn't handle." I made a facial expression that was an odd mixture of half-smile, half-grimace of pain. "Thanks for the medi-gel by the way, I really appreciate it."

"No problem buddy. That's what friends are for right?" He sat up from the chair he was in, motioning for me to follow. "As much as I'd love to let you lie down and heal up for a bit we gotta go. The boss wants this second part of the test done. He told me to bring you to the back room as soon as you woke up. This second part should be a cakewalk though. You didn't chicken out with the brand so I this won't faze you a bit I think."

I quickly walked to the door, opening it to reveal a room that was empty for the most part. The only objects were a large metal table, two chairs and something in the corner of the room that I couldn't make out yet due to the poor lighting. As Weisman re-joined us I turned to the pair of men, tilting my head in confusion.

"Your test is in here Nate."

Confused, I turned back again. "Finch is correct Mr. Wolfert."

Shrugging my shoulders, I walked into the room as the two followed. I sat in the metal chair and waited as they brought the, "something," over. To my utter shock, they picked it up and stood it on two legs. Holding an arm each they sat the thing down in the chair before removing the sack from his head.

For the second time that day, something I had never before seen in person was right in front of my face. A turian.

The leader of the Reds turned to me, smirk on his face as he spread his arms wide. "Well Mr. Wolfert. Meet your second test."

(This is the first of probably six or seven chapters that I'm in the process of rewriting. No real changes in terms of plot happenings, the only difference is a clean-up of the dialogue and descriptions.)

A/N: Sorry! I hate to end the first chapter on a cliffhanger but this was the best stopping point I felt like.

Any review/advice is much appreciated, my only request (especially if it's negative) is to please be as specific as possible, been working on this story for a while now and I finally feel like I have enough of a backlog to start posting so here it is. I've written through part 26 as of today and the chapters are averaging just over 5,000 words each which was right about where I wanted them to be but we'll see how long that goes for. And right now I'm almost into the year 2179 so it'll be a long while before we get into ME1 territory but I'm steadily working towards it.

Since I work full-time in addition to going to college also, I don't have much free time to write but I will be posting every Friday/Saturday as long as I have access to a computer. Hopefully I can keep up with that pace and there will be a steady flow of below-average writing coming to you, the reader. That's about it for now so I think I'll wrap it up. See you guys next week!