A/N: Before you read my story, I must give you a fair warning. This is rated M for Mature. Not because of Sexual Content or anything like that, but because of the general theme of the story. The Hunt is the first act of a massive retelling of the Mass Effect Trilogy, where military realism and the accurate portrayal of military life, specifically in a USMC-inspired Systems Alliance Marine Corps, takes priority. Everything you love about Mass Effect (minus the decision making, of course) is still here. But this is, at the end of the day, a military drama. Combat is gritty and brutal. Shepard isn't some all powerful hero; in his heart he is a simple Marine. A man with a past that continues to haunt him. Even as he becomes the leader of not only the classic squadmates of ME, but also a new cast of Recon Marines, all with their own personalities and backstories. The men and women under his command are Jarheads through and through. Dark humor and sexual innuendos are their specialty. They have mouths dirtier than the worst truck drivers and make Jack look like an angel. Ask anyone in real life who's ever known a marine as either family or friend; they won't tell you it's any different. Anyways, I digress. Point being, know what you're getting into. This isn't a story for the feint of heart. Consider yourself warned.

The Hunt

Prologue

There was still a long list to go, but not nearly enough coffee to last. Captain David Edward Anderson, Human Systems Alliance Navy, had already picked up the mug and brought it to his lips before he finally realized it was empty. With a frustrated moan, he set it back down on the conference table with a little more force than intended and rubbed his strained, sleep deprived eyes. After a deep, audible sigh, he looked over his shoulder to the linoleum counter at the end of the room and, much to his dissatisfaction, took notice of the empty decanter. "We're out of coffee," he declared in monotone before practically tossing his datapad onto the table.

"Yes," said the weary, slightly Irish-accented voice of the man sitting across. Ambassador Donnel Udina, representative of Humanity to the Citadel Council, spoke in his usual neutral tone. "It appears we are."

"I'll go get some more from the cafeteria," said another deep, aged voice from the other end of the table.

Anderson saw the man in question, dressed in a high ranking officer's Alliance Blues, steadily rise to his feet from his chair. "Much appreciated, Admiral Hackett."

"Please do," said Udina, his squinting eyes not leaving the datapad in his hands. "I feel we will be here for quite a while longer."

The admiral did not say another word before leaving the room, Anderson catching a brief glimpse of the Alliance Marine keeping guard outside the door before his superior closed it. Only after another half-minute of rubbing his shut eyes and catching himself nearly passing out in the process did the captain pick back up his datapad. With a swipe of his index finger, the next profile in line loaded onto the holographic screen. "This is taking a lot longer than I thought."

"Nothing is ever easy in politics, Anderson." Udina too swiped at his datapad a moment after his statement.

"True enough," Anderson snorted. "Remind me again later to stay as far away from it all as possible."

That elicited a small grin from the ambassador. "My pleasure."

With another sigh, Anderson once again swiped with his finger in irritation and disappointment, finding nothing that truly fitted the quota provided by the day's task. After a few seconds of skimming over the new information displayed, however, his eyes widened and he leaned forward over the table. "Ambassador..."

Having waited several seconds for the captain to continue only for no such thing to occur, Udina finally cast his gaze away from his datapad and placed it down. "Yes?"

Anderson's eyes were still looking over the dossier in his hands as he spoke. "What about Shepard?"

The ambassador stared at him for a couple still seconds while he tried to piece together who the captain was exactly referring to. "Commander Shepard," he asked as he reverted back to his datapad. He spoke again when he searched for and found the proper profile. "He... grew up in the colonies."

"He knows how tough life can be out there. His entire family was killed when Batarian slavers attacked Mindoir in 2170. Joined the Alliance two years later on his eighteenth birthday."

At that moment, Admiral Steven Hackett returned with a full decanter of black coffee. When he entered the room and closed the door behind him, he immediately took notice of the new attitude. "Did we find someone?"

"Shepard, sir," Anderson replied.

"Hmm, Shepard..." Hackett walked over to the counter to his right and put down the coffee. Once having done so, however, he did not move. He simply stared at the decanter. "He's a fine marine, but his whole unit died on Akuze in '77. Saw them torn to pieces by thresher maws with his own eyes." He then turned around to acknowledge the other two men in the room, his face showing a grim expression. "That, coupled with the attack on Mindoir... he could be suffering from some serious emotional scars."

Anderson looked up at the admiral, his eyes showing a mind clearly set on a decision. "Every soldier has scars. Shepard's a survivor."

Hackett did not respond, but Udina continued instead. "Who recommended him?

The captain hastily shot a glance back to his datapad before responding to the ambassador. "Nihlus Kryik."

Udina's eyes opened wide in shock. "The Turian spectre?"

"That's what it says." If Anderson was going to be honest, even he was fairly surprised that a Turian, of all people, actually brought up the name of a Human prospect. In a way, however, it made the decision that much easier for him to make. If a Turian thought highly of Shepard, it must sincerely speak wonders about the man.

A long moment of silence passed in the room as the three men shifted through their thoughts, each one going over their own version of the pros and cons to this decision. Finally, with his eyes now showing skepticism, Udina asked the million credit question. "Is Shepard the kind of person we want protecting the galaxy?"

There was only the briefest of hesitation in the Alliance captain. "He's the only kind of person who can protect the galaxy."

The ambassador, after another couple seconds, finally sighed. "I guess it's settled... I'll make the call."

In the year 2148, explorers on Mars discovered the remains of an ancient spacefaring civilization. In the decades that followed, these mysterious artifacts revealed startling new technologies, enabling travel to the furthest stars. The basis for this incredible technology was a force that controlled the very fabric of space and time.

They called it the greatest discovery in Human history...

The civilizations of the galaxy call it...

MASS EFFECT