So, guys, this is my first fanfiction. I have to say I was pretty nervous about uploading this, but the only way I can progress and write better stuff is showing what I've made to you. If you guys think that I should work on certain things then by all means, let me know. I really want to write credible and interesting conversation, as well as a little bit of my take on the smaller details of the universe's technology, so I hope I deliver. Also, characters from the games will start appearing in future chapters... bear with me please!

This is a fan fiction, all characters and themes belong to Bioware... except the OC's... well they can keep them if they want to.

Without further ado, here's the story. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Caleb Jerris sat at the Eternity bar in Illium. In a few days he would embark on a month long journey aboard the Langdon, a cargo ship for hire, carrying a full load of containers across de Attican traverse. He was done with the background check of most of his crew, but he was missing a VI technician. The ship would be crossing unsettled systems, so a skeleton crew was the only option, but he had a few days, and he had worked his ass off for a week, so he deserved a night of drinking and maybe an asari on the side. A turian bartender slid a blue phosphorescent drink towards him and it stopped right in front of his hands. After activating his omnitool and touching the tip jar, making it ping, he began nursing the sweet liquor as he swept imaginary hair back over his bald scalp. The asari beverage made his tongue tingle and goose bumps went down the back of his neck as the alcohol burned his throat. His gaze floated to his right where it met the eyes of a young asari who was ignoring the friends she was with, a small smile tugged her lips to one side, and Caleb could swear he felt being pulled like a magnet towards the woman at the other side of the bar. He gulped down the rest of the glass and began pushing off the bar when a man sat down beside him, covering the view to the girl.

"Sorry, Jerris, am I interrupting your love staring session?" the man asked in a mocking tone. He wore a long, hazel, scruffy beard, reaching the collar of his shirt, his green eyes seemed tired and droopy, giving him a hungover look. No one wore beards in Illium unless they were homeless, which was precisely why Caleb kept a clean shave to show off his sharp chin and dressed expensively. He was no hobo, and the world needed to know it.

"And who the hell are you?" Caleb's piercing blue eyes scanned the man's face. He had no time for small talk with this mess of a man, even if seeing humans in Illium was a rare sight. Furthermore, the asari would probably lose interest after seeing them talking. If there was something that Illium taught him is that appearances matter. They matter a lot.

"I'm hurt you don't recognize me. It's Nicolas Baker, from Eden Prime? I'm not surprised I found you here, you always did have a thing for aliens." The man adjusted his sleeves. He was dressed in common black clothes, but his shirt was wrinkled and there was an odd smoked smell to it.

Caleb gasped as memories of his time in university were conjured back from many years ago, "I would never have recognized you, it's been years! What is that shit on your face?"

"It's hair, Caleb. Looks like you've been among cartilage heads for too long, you forgot what it is."

"At least I look like a person with a job. What brings you to Illium anyway?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm looking for a job, and your security chief is a common acquaintance of ours. He told me you were looking for a VI technician." Nicolas smiled under his beard as he beckoned the bartender over, who reluctantly approached, "Give me a Thessian Temple and a beer, pretty please," when the bartender set off to prepare the mixed drink, he opened his omnitool to pay and directed his attention to Caleb, "The girl is drinking the Thessian shit, go give it to her. I'll leave you alone if you hire me."

Caleb sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. When the bartender returned with two glasses, he smiled at the man beside him, "I'm just doing this because I know you can get the job done. Let's meet tomorrow for the contract and all that stuff, here's my number." His omnitool came to life and after a few button presses, Nicolas' wristband beeped. As Caleb stood up, he grabbed both the beer and the blue drink, "Thanks for the beer, buddy."

Nicolas' mouth hung open as Caleb left with his drink but chose not to protest. He had a job, after all, and in his old friend's ship, no less. This called for something stronger than a beer, and maybe a shave later in the night… people were staring and it was getting on his nerves.

"Did I keep you waiting too long?" Caleb set the glass beside the asari, and she accepted it with a sultry smile.

"I could literally have waited seven hundred years, darling. Who was the hobo anyway?"

Nicolas chuckled to himself and stopped eavesdropping as he waved at the bartender again. Rolling his eyes, the turian walked over to Nicolas, ready to kick him out of the bar for bothering the patrons.

"Give me the rest of that Serrice Ice Brandy bottle over there, would you say there's two portions left in it?"

"I'd say three, but whatever. That'll be two hundred credits."

After finishing the bottle, he got up to leave, head suddenly woozy from standing up too quickly. He saw Caleb talking to the asari, laughing with the rest of the group. That dog. His friend had a way with people, which was probably the reason why he was able to coax Illium's finest mercenaries to work security in a transport vessel, or maybe it was the money. Quick inter-system transport was a booming business in the Illium sector, and Caleb was well aware of it. Nicolas checked his omnitool to see the contact info Caleb sent him.

The Boss

[Press to call]

Note: get your ass to port 17 at 0800 Standard Illium time, you start tomorrow. Pack your things, because we're having a long trip.

He chuckled on his way out of the bar and walked towards the hotel he was staying in. His previous contract had expired, and now he found a job after a couple of days of searching, praised be networking with mercenaries. Looking back on the past few eventful days, sleepiness caught up with him shortly after entering his hotel room.

…

"I see you decided to look decent today." Caleb spoke loudly when Nicolas was within earshot. The sun shone on his scalp and dimples formed on his cheeks as he directed a smug smile at his friend.

"I know I looked gorgeous, but people went overboard with the whole staring thing." Nicolas rubbed his chin, the skin soft and a bit itchy where the thick beard once was. His cheeks felt cold, but he would get used to it soon enough. A duffel bag hung at his shoulder and a small tool bag was strapped to his back. With modern technology, he needed little more than a week's worth of clothes and his omnitool to make any trip, regardless of the length. The only limited resource was cigarettes, but they surely would have loads in the Langdon.

"I think they were staring because they feared for their valuables, I could've sworn you were gonna jump me when I saw you."

"Real funny, man. So where's the rest of the crew?" Nicolas drew a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with his omnitool's flash-forged lighter, a five centimetre long film of silicon-carbide, which combusted after use.

"It's just us, Nicolas. I brought you here so you could get acquainted with the ship. You sign the contract, check in right now, and you wait till we arrive tomorrow."

"You're keeping me here for a whole day? What about lunch and dinner and stuff?"

"There's a fully stocked kitchen in the Langdon. Make yourself at home, get to know the VI, explore the ship, whatever the hell you wanna do. We leave tomorrow for thirty days, so I would recommend you get comfortable."

"Fine. Where are we going, and where's the contract?"

"We're taking a shit ton of mining equipment to Ondeste, then bringing back whatever they want to sell to Illium. Here's the contract," Caleb handed Nicolas a data-pad, which he read over carefully, and signed with his finger at the bottom when he saw that his friend wasn't trying to bullshit him, "Ok, then. The Langdon is yours to explore. Don't get lost, and don't fuck with Hal. It's taken me long enough to program jokes into the thing."

"You named the VI Hal? What are you two hundred years old now?"

"Admit it's a catchy name. Now get in there." Caleb slapped him on the shoulder and turned to leave.

Nicolas watched him go before approaching the blast door for the transport shuttle. The Langdon would be waiting above Illium's atmosphere, as the ship was probably too massive to venture into it. He took some drags from the cigarette and looked up at the sky, as if he were able to make out the outline of the ship in the deep blue sea of stars. Cigarette hanging from his lower lip, he swiped his hand over the door's green open light. It cycled a few seconds, the shuttle's internal computer checking biometrics to cross reference with publicly available records to make sure it was indeed an employee who was trying to enter. Nicolas puffed smoke impatiently. The shuttle blastdoor soon hissed open to reveal a cramped cabin which could fit ten people at the most. Seats with over the shoulder restrains lined the edges, it was a rapid transport vessel, so it should probably take him up to the Langdon in a matter of seconds. He left the duffel bag under a seat and sat down, pulling the restrain over his shoulders until it clicked into position. His omnitool beeped once and when it lit up, a menu popped open with basic actions for the shuttle, ascend, open blast door and release restrains. After pressing the button to ascend, the blast door slid shut and a calm masculine voice filled the inside of the hull.

"Preparing for launch. Priming thrusters for rapid ascension. Praying everything goes well."

"What!?"

"Launching in ten seconds, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, mark." The voice continued oblivious to the interruption, and a low pitched hum emanated from the bottom of the shuttle before a loud rumble shook the hull and Nicolas' head was pulled down from the momentum of the shuttle ascending towards his new workplace.

After a couple of seconds of straining to keep his head from falling off, the rumbling of the ships thrusters slowly faded away into silence, the G's were diminishing to decent levels and a screen slid down from the ceiling, covering the blast door. It lit up, displaying a diagram of the Langdon, Illium and the shuttle ascending towards its destination. A counter appeared, signalling contact was just seconds away. When the shuttle arrived, the shuttle shook briefly as it latched on to the Langdon's airlock and the blast door opened. Nicolas pulled his restraint upwards and stood to walk into the ship. The artificial gravity was set to Earth standard, and he felt oddly light in comparison to when he was in Illium. After the airlock opened for him to walk into the ship, the same disembodied voice from the shuttle disturbed the low pitched humming of the ship's generators.

"Hello, Mr. Baker, I am Hal, the onboard VI."

"Hello Hal. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too," the voice continued with a tone of absolute indifference, making it very clear that it was indeed originating from a computer program, "My duties aboard the Langdon are maintaining life support, auto-pilot functions and diverse basic systems required to maintain the ship's equipment, as well as cargo logistics and organization. I understand you will be working on keeping me in check."

"As long as that doesn't bother you, my job will normally involve that all your hardware is kept in optimal conditions." Nicolas smiled as he walked down a corridor that connected the airlock to the bridge.

"I see no reason to be bothered. I trust you will do an… acceptable job," the VI's response made Nicolas stop in his tracks and consider whether it was mocking him, "That was sarcasm, Mr. Jerris instructed me to use occasionally during conversations with you."

"Alright Hal, let's just get to work. Can you upload the ship's schematics into my omnitool? Also, where is the smoking lounge and where can I get something to eat?"

The man wandered around the vast insides of the ship, stretching four hundred meters from bow to stern and boasting a personnel deck and a single high ceilinged cargo deck. While smoking a cigarette, Hal informed him that ventilation was active across all decks, and as long as the entirety of the crew inside a determined room smoked, it was permitted. In any other situation, the smoking lounge would always be open. After an hour of exploring and enquiring, he ended up at the mess hall. Easily able to fit thirty crewmembers, it had a variety of cooking appliances, and in the pantry hidden behind a door on the port side there were stacks of boxes filled with instant-cook flavoured rations. Nicolas heated up his dinner and finished his trip with the VI core, located at the end of the pantry behind a locked door which he and a couple of other employees, according to Hal, had the clearance to enter. After eating he picked up his duffel bag from the shuttle and went to sleep at one of the bunk beds in the barracks near the mess hall.

…

"Captain Jerris has arrived, Nicolas." The VI announced over the bathroom speakers the following morning, making Nicolas jump and nearly slip on the wet floor.

"Next time you wanna talk to me, Hal, do it after I'm done with my shower," Nicolas sputtered as the shower spray hindered his ability to speak.

"Duly noted, but you really should hurry up, water is a limited resource in spa-"

"Jesus Christ, mother hen! Alright, alright, alright," he turned the knob to off and shook his hair off before stepping out of the cubicle to grab a towel, "I'm out. And don't bullshit me, I know about your water filters."

"Well then, have fun drinking your own pee."

Caleb stepped off the shuttle and sent it back down to make another trip, picking up the rest of the crew. He had brought the pilot, Patrick Fitch, the head of security, Robert Pearson, a ship technician and a couple of mercenaries. The next shuttle rides would bring the rest of the mercenary security team.

"So Robert, you already knew Nicolas?" Caleb inquired, curious at his old friend's odd circle of acquaintances.

"Ha! I met the lad a wee while ago, but I could tell 'e was a good egg when I saw him. Ye start noticing things with age, Cap'n," the bald mercenary had a face way more wrinkled than a regular sixty year old. With modern medicine, plastic surgery and skin rejuvenation was as cheap as can be, but some people saw little use in looking young eternally and some habits could age skin twice as fast as normal. Robert cared little about a young complexion and smoked like a chimney. Caleb noticed he had a lit cigarette in his hand every time he saw the man.

"Hey Caleb!" Nicolas waved as he emerged into the bridge from around a corner, "Robb! It's been ages! Who's the new one?" Nicolas stepped towards Robert and shook his shoulder amicably as he stretched a hand towards the much taller pilot.

"This is Patrick Fitch, our pilot for this voyage." Caleb explained, patting the pilot on the back, "Get along with him, the blast door controls are in the cockpit."

…

After a week in deep space, the ship had to stop at an uncharted solar system to discharge the hull from the FTL jump they just finished. Caleb opened a comm channel to Nicolas' omnitool.

"Nicolas, could you go down to the VI core? The systems seem to be overheating a bit, maybe the refrigerating system is malfunctioning."

"Tell Hal to be cool. I'll get back to you in a bit."

The Captain massaged the bridge of his nose and smiled despite himself, and a voice message came in from the pilot, "Can his jokes get any worse?" he chuckled, as he hovered his hand over the button to end the call.

An audible gasp came through the intercom, "I am comedy gold, Fitch." Was the on-board engineer's response, sounding mock-hurt.

Captain Jerris shook his head as he closed the line. Being the captain of a transport vessel would've been boring without his friend and now colleague aboard. Usually these ships were travelling for weeks at a time, but due to their large mass, FTL travel couldn't be sustained for long distances before having to stop and discharge at the nearest system with gas giants. The Langdon was the biggest transport ship in the Crescent Nebula, making regular travels between Illium and the neighbouring systems. With its nearly half kilometre length and being able to run on a crew of four, it had the resources to travel without stopping for almost three months, and ten of the best mercenaries in the Attican Traverse to protect whatever the Langdon would be carrying at the time.

Caleb was getting ready to turn in to get some shut-eye before the next shift, when the pilot pinged his omnitool again, requesting his presence at the cockpit. The sector they were traversing had no colonies, so whatever the problem was, it surely wouldn't be too bad.

"It's good you're here, Captain. We have a ship on intercept course. Batarian make, and we won't be able to make a jump for another fifteen minutes."

"Who are they, P? Have they hailed us yet?"

"I've tried making contact over radio, but they aren't responding, and approaching that deliberately can't be good. I think we should have five minutes before they are within docking range, unless they make a short jump."

"Arm the torpedoes and let that ship know that we're prepared to use them. Call Illium authorities, I'm not taking any chances with these guys."

"Aye aye." The pilot tapped a couple of commands into the cockpit console, and soon there was a whirring sound vibrating through the hull as the ship's disruptor torpedoes were prepped to fire. As the captain turned to leave and head for the crew's quarters to brief the merc team, he could hear the pilot recording the message for intersystem security to be sent over the nearest extranet beacon.

The security team were playing Skyllian Five when he arrived, and he was met with leisurely salutes and greetings. Having a human only crew with such a long rotation time gave way to a more at ease work relationship.

"Hey Robb, can I talk to you for a second?"

The older man nodded and huffed as he got up and followed the captain out of the room. Tapping a command on the omnitool, the mercenary shut the door behind them for privacy.

"We've got batarians headed to us on collision course. We have tried hailing them, but we're getting no response. We have armed our torpedoes in case they get too close and notified the authorities, but we should get ready anyway."

"Pirates, Cap'n?" The older man frowned, deep wrinkles spread from the corner of his eyes.

"I would suspect so, and if they don't change their course or hail us, they won't be around nearly enough to know, but if they do, will you be able to take care of them? I don't want to risk trying to escape while we still haven't discharged."

"Don't worry, Jerris. The lads and I'll show 'em how bad humans can be."

Robb turned and went into the room. A moment, later, the team emerged and headed for the armoury. Suddenly the pilot's voice came over the Intercom.

"Captain, the ship just sped up towards us, comms are being jammed. Permission to fire the torpedoes?"

"Permission granted, Fitch. Give'em hell."

The captain waited in silence as the whooshing sound of the launching torpedoes came and went. It wasn't long until the pilot spoke again:

"The torpedoes hit." An almost palpable air of relief swept over the group, "Wait, the ship is back on course, EMP resistant systems? Captain, they are firing on us! Taking evasive manoeuvres."

The intercom shut off as a siren started blaring, and the captain was followed by the returning security team to the airlock. The ship technician stopped working on a panel on the bridge and jogged to the safe spot in the cargo bay, far away from the ship's entrance. Jerris activated his omnitool and brought up a LADAR feed of the ship's surroundings. A call came through, it was the VI technician.

"Hey Jerris, what's going on? I thought I fucked up when the sirens started blaring."

"We have a probable case of the pirates, you should head for the cargo bay." The deck near the airlock was soon crowded by the merc security team, and the whirring of various mass accelerator weapons being primed could be heard over the siren. "Could you turn off the sirens on the main deck before you go? It's getting on my nerves."

"Of course, buddy. Should I put some music through the speakers while we're at it?"

"I'm seriously considering stopping at omega and leaving you there, Nicolas."

"You wouldn't! The ship's too big for there to be no me in it." The connection was cut off, and soon enough the sirens stopped blaring. The only sound that could be heard was the hum of the ship's life support systems and the beeping of the Captain's omnitool LADAR feed.

"Captain, the pirates fired an electrostatic torpedo that I can't evade. Brace for an EMP blast, I'm shutting down the generators pre-emptively." The pilot's voice came over the deck's PA speakers.

"Keep me posted, P."

The hum of the ship's systems died down, and fluorescent lights along the bridge's corridor floor lit up. After a couple of silent seconds, the generators powered up again. The EMP blast had come and gone.

"Systems back online…wait… Is that- Captain! The Ship's signature split in two! One is heading for the airlock and the other to the back of the ship, close to the cargo bay."

"They probably had a dormant ship being tugged along with the first one. Let's take half the team to the cargo bay, Captain." One of the mercs said as he pulled on some shoulders and left running with the new group.

"Go ahead, hurry up and get t-" There was a powerful blast on the side of the ship as the deck's starboard hull burst and the captain along with the pilot and most of the security team were spaced. It had been the impact of an empty ship repurposed for use as a battering ram. Kinetic barriers lifted to seal off the rupture, and the remaining mercenaries headed for the cargo bay immediately after a second blast shook the entire ship. This time the cargo bay had been breached, but it was the pirate ship, unloading a team of batarians onto the maze of containers and the unsuspecting ship engineer.

From within the VI core, Nicolas watched the main deck video feed in horror, and tapped a few commands into the console in front of him to bring up the virtual intelligence, Hal.

"Hal, give me vitals on the whole security team and the captain, and show me the cargo hold video feed."

There was no response, but a sidebar on the VI core console showed the status of the remaining security team, with half of the team dead, along with the captain. The video feed of the cargo hold came up with a gruesome image:

Fifteen batarians were met with little resistance as their assault rifle fire decimated the engineer, and they immediately shot the cameras out after checking the area. Nicolas covered his mouth and wondered what the hell he could do from where he was.

"Patch me through to the security team."

"Patching through, Nicolas."

"…This is Robb, go ahead Nicolas," came a raspy voice over the room's speakers.

"Robb, I've lost contact with the cargo hold, but I managed to see 15 pirates in there. Herman's dead. Can you take them out?"

"Yeah I'm pretty sure we can, keep us posted, lad."

The team of five came up to the cargo hold doors and formed up at both sides. Immediately after the door opened, one of them tossed a flash-bang grenade into the hold, but to their horror, a regular grenade rolled into the corridor where they were waiting.

Nicolas couldn't help but shout a quick "no" as the grenade's blast thundered through the console's speakers and the rest of the security team's vitals dropped to flat line.

"Hal, vent the cargo hold and get me the pilot."

"Mr. Fitch was spaced along with the captain. Venting cargo hold."

"Is there anyone else in the ship?"

"Negative, only the pirates. They managed to leave the cargo hold before it was vented."

"Shit, shit, shit! Um… Deactivate all kinetic barriers, open all doors except the VI core and vent the whole ship."

"Yes, sir."

After a few seconds of claustrophobic silence, the engineer spoke up again.

"Is anyone in the ship apart from me now?"

"Negative, but I am reading heat signatures in the pirate's cockpit."

Nicolas knew that if he did nothing, the pirates could come through the cargo hold prepared for another possible venting, and that the ships were probably joined through a docking sleeve in the cargo hold. If he could crash the ship into the pirate cockpit, he might be able to kill the remaining pirates.

"Hal, activate the port thrusters, I want to crash the ship into the pirates."

"Port thrusters, full throttle." Came a cheerful response from the console. It almost seemed as if the VI was having fun with all the destruction, which was disconcerting.

A deep rumbling resounded through the walls of the room as the ships came into contact, like a roll of thunder far, far away, and as the thrusters shut off, silence again.

"No heat signatures remaining in the pirate ship, Nicolas."

The engineer backed away from the console and slumped back against a wall, sliding down to the floor as his heart raced and his eyes teared up.

So, yeah.

I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter. As I said before, any feedback is appreciated :)

Chapters will be uploaded as fast as I can. I've had this chapter written down for quite some time, and I have the whole span of Mass effect 1 planned, but I wont be able to upload too frequently because of my studies.