Day 13.

My leg wouldn't stop bouncing.

I rubbed my clammy palms down my trousers, attempting the rid of the sweat forming on my skin. I was waiting for Fist to finish his meeting on the com. Occasionally I heard a sharp voice, muffled but coherent with its vexed tone. It rose then became quiet again, off and on.

I could picture his eyes, flashing with anger at the revelation I had agreed to sell him out. Then possibly activating his turrets to shoot me down, bullets filling me with holes and draining my life.

I didn't have a choice.

The thought of the C-sec officer made me fidget, glancing around and flinching at the slightest movements. One of the rare human dancers openly compared me to a shaky chihuahua. I was on edge, the thought that he could be watching me was wildly unsettling.

The hairs on the back of my neck spiked. I sharply inhaled, reaching up and scratching the side of my head. He isn't here. Calm down.

My eyes darted to the door the instant it hissed open, spine snapping up straight and skin crawling. I shot to my feet, sending another paranoid glance over my shoulder. My gaze quickly scanned the area as if he would be lurking there. But he wasn't- all I saw were the usual customers. Some new, some old. Bronx leaned against the door with what I assumed was a bored expression, squinted amber flicking around the club slowly and almost tiredly. Yulana was leaning forward, a flirtatious smirk smoothly gliding onto her mouth. Any quiet voices melted into the loud, rhythm of the music. Crimson and dark blue lights clashing against each other.

Slightly more assured, I switched my eyes back over to Fist- who seemed to quirk an eyebrow at my apprehensive keek. He didn't say anything and merely made a motion with his hand, beckoning me inside. I hurriedly shuffled forward, trying to resist the strong urge to peep behind me. It was a little difficult to keep my breathing pattern unwavering, lungs filling until they felt like they could burst. My heart was galloping out of the airlock and setting into hyperdrive.

The last time I was in this office was when I was signing my employment contract that started my career in the Den. It took less than two weeks before things started falling apart. Threatened by my supervisor into keeping things to myself and staying out of the way, then blackmailed by C-Sec into becoming their little snitch. Funny how my life got so much more complicated over a short span of time.

I'm a janitor for crying out loud. Janitors weren't supposed to have so much shit dropped into their laps.

Arranging this meeting was hard. Fist wasn't just any kind of boss, he's also a crime boss. You don't just go and talk to a crime boss, even if he's your employer. Bronx, that krogan bouncer who also seemed to be serving as Fist's personal bodyguard was almost ready to dislocate both my arms before I finally managed to persuade him that I really needed to speak to Fist.

Now though? I'm seriously starting to have second thoughts.

Fist didn't speak after hearing what I told him, not that he needed to. His body language clearly conveyed all that needed to be said. That he wanted nothing more than to thourotte me with his bare hands. Or hand me over to Akira. Or worse, Bronx.

I recalled the parting words Officer I-can't-pronounce-his-name gave me as I left the precinct earlier in the day after the briefing. "Don't get caught Miss Daniels. I may not be able to help you if you do."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, clenching the material of my trousers between my fingers. Technically, I didn't get caught. I approached him and spilled everything, so that's different. So I should be fine.

Oh who am I kidding? I'm screwed.

When he finally did, his voice was low, seething with an emotion I'm too terrified to identify. "If I remember correctly, you stated in your contract of employment that you did not have a criminal history."

"No charges were pressed." I folded my hands in my lap, so I wouldn't fidget underneath the searing fire in Fist's gaze. My gut churned uncomfortably and I tried to keep eye contact. "I didn't think it was important enough- I got released-"

He jumped to his feet, cutting me off mid sentence and snatching the bottle of scotch off his desk, hurling it past my head. I jolted and struggled to keep the yelp of fear from escaping my throat and shuddered, shrinking back into my seat as I heard it smash open against the door.

"Then what the fuck is this?!" He all but screamed at me, spittle raining all over his desk as he raged, slamming a palm down on the desk in a deafening boom. "C-Sec! Fucking C-Sec! You lying bitch!" The last word was accompanied by the sound of more glass shattering as he threw his drinking glasses at a nearby wall.

I kept quiet for a moment when I felt the tremor violently rake through my body. I felt tears stinging my vision but held them back, averting my eyes to my shoes. "I'm-I'm s-so, so sorry!" My voice broke. Fuck, this is bad. "I'm really, really sorry! P-please, forgive me. I-I fucked up!" The volume in my words grew softer as my agitation increased, sending a chill of dread through my veins. "I'm sorry… Please..."

Trying to defend myself with excuses was obviously just going to make him more furious, so all I could do was apologise immensely and hope he didn't blow my head off. If it meant I got to live- I was ready to drop to my knees and plead and beg for his forgiveness. Making enemies with Fist was the last thing I needed right now. All I wanted- was to live.

Fist paced angrily behind his desk as he fumed. "Yet, here you are, telling me all of this instead of keeping it quiet like any normal person would." He stopped, mid step and turned to face me. "Why is that?"

"S-scared." I ducked my head, holding my breath before I continued. I noticed my leg was bouncing again and stopped it, shoving my quaking hands underneath my knees. I closed my eyes, tilting my head down as I slowly tried to get my breathing back under control. Fist didn't seem like the kind to go soft over waterworks, but rather go the complete opposite. "Scared of what would happen if I get caught. And threatened…. P-pissed at C-Sec for blackmailing me." I exhaled shakily, curling my fingers.

Fist sneered, turning his back to me. "Get out," he seethed. "I'll need some time to think. And decide what to do with you."

Unsure of what this meant, I didn't need telling twice. I quickly stood, then zipped to the door. I didn't look back. Guess my ticket out of jail is gone now. I needed to think of a plan of action- and fast.

Maybe Omega wouldn't be too bad.

Bronx stood outside Fist's office, blocking my way. My muscles trembled within my flesh and I attempted to circle around him- however, he didn't budge. Shit.

"See to it that she doesn't try to run away," I heard Fist order right before the door hissed shut behind me. A thin, feral like grin was all the warning I got before the lumbering krogan seized my wrist in a bone crushing grip and started to drag me away.

"You don't have to hold onto me." I looked down at the arm he was using to haul me off, noticing just how huge his hand was in comparison to my limb. My arm looked like a pale noodle in contrast to his beefy fingers- which coiled uncomfortably and painfully. One twitch, and he could probably break my wrist.

"No," his voice rumbled deeply as he chuckled, tightening his hold. It forced a whimper out of my mouth, through my wincing teeth. "But I want to."

Sadistic bastard.

He brought me back to the cleaning closet and tossed me inside. The door hissed shut, engulfing me in darkness. I gritted my teeth and carefully moved to the side, feeling along the wall until my fingertips brushed up against the lightswitch. The sensor pinged at my hand- then the room flickered to life.

The equipment was neatly put away, as I arranged it earlier. Broom tucked in the corner, with the mops. Things put away inside the cabinets. There was no other exit. Just the one door Bronx wa guarding to make sure I didn't sprint for my life.

I sighed and pressed a hand to my forehead, leaning my back up against the wall before slowly sinking to the floor. My gaze blurred and tears started to cloud my vision- flowing freely down my cheeks. I started to silently cry to myself momentarily, and slapped a hand over my lips to muffle the sounds. I didn't want them to hear me.

I am screwed.

Officer-who-I-could-not-name would probably be annoyed when he found my corpse in the lake- or wherever Fist decided to dump my body. If there was even a body left to find. After all, I did alert Fist to the fact that C-Sec was onto him.

My watering eyes shot to the door, knowing that Bronx was behind it. I flipped up my hand, throwing him the bird without him knowing. I wanted to scream in frustration. I wanted to go home.

I swiped at the salty teardrops and sniffled, drying my face with tissues in here. Then I stared up at the ceiling and started to question what I did to deserve this. What I did in my old life to deserve being pushed to another dimension, being forced to work for this asshole and having to skit around C-Sec for fear of being put away just for existing.

Laben would no doubt be confused at the fact his housemate suddenly vanished out of nowhere- not a notice or note or any form of communication. He'd probably be mildly annoyed that he would have to find another person to rent the apartment with but get over it rather quickly. He was a salarian after all. He processed things a lot quicker than us humans did.

Whilst dread and a strong sense of anxiety ate away at my insides- anger quickly heated through my bloodstream. How could I have been so stupid to think that Fist wouldn't be so furious as he was? To think everything would have been fine and hunky dory?

"Urgh!" I cried out to myself and viciously kicked the door in my aggravation, not caring if Bronx heard me. I cursed a line of swearwords afterwards, a short explosion of pain bursting out in my ankle. I had obviously kicked the door at a bad angle. I sighed and curled up against the wall, tangling my fingers through my hair, attempting to zone out the headache pounding at the back of my skull.

At some point, I must had fallen asleep, because I woke up to the sounds of an argument outside the door. I recognized one of the voices as Akira's.

"- in there? You bloody idiot, what if she drinks from one of the bottles? Half the fucking cleaning agents in there are lethal to ingest- she could be looking for a quick way out."

I drew my legs to my chest, peeping up at the metallic, circular door. Tresses cascaded in front of my vision like a curtain, so I quickly swiped the hair aside so I could keep an eye out for the door in case they came in. My mouth felt dry. How long was I asleep? How long have I been in here?

"Good," the second voice was unmistakably Bronx's. "Then it'll look like suicide. Save us the trouble."

"Out of the way," she growled irritably. "I'll take it from here, Fist's orders."

Christ. Cthulhu. Spirits. Goddess. Any Gods or devils out there, or whoever put me the fuck here- fucking help me. Please.

I tensed when I heard footsteps from the other side and pressed myself to the shelf as if it would help me.

Then the door slid open.

There was a long silence as neither of us spoke or moved.

"You know," she started at last, putting her hand on the doorframe. Her thin eyebrow rose, lips pursed. "I didn't think that'll you take my words that seriously. And certainly didn't expect you to go all the way to defy C-Sec just to do it."

"What can I say?" I grimaced at the hoarse tone in my voice and cleared my throat. "You made an impression."

"How are you feeling?" She asked. That simple question caused me to tense up, my gut knotting together in worry.

"What's going to…" I pushed myself up the wall, my hand sliding up it as leverage to pull myself to my feet. I steadily set my jaw, the cool surface of the shelf on the side felt soothing. "What's going to happen to me?"

No point in dragging this out.

If I was going to die- I wanted it straight.

"What do you think you slacker?" She grabbed my coveralls off the hanger and tossed it to me. "Get back to work."

What?

Her proclamation came as such a surprise that I didn't react quick enough to catch it, so the uniform was chucked into my face and draped over my head. I dumbly stood there as her words slowly processed in my brain- then I yanked off the clothing and chased after her.

"W-wait." I held the uniform in my trembling hands and stumbled forward, dazed by this news. Bronx wasn't here- he was by the front entrance, not looking too plussed when he caught my eye. But I was too confused to care, I fumbled after Akira. "W-what's happening? Fist isn't going to kill me? I'm not fired?"

"No," she stopped, turning to face me. "Things carry on as it is."

I stared at her in my confounded state. "But… what about C-Sec? Isn't Fist angry?"

"You are still going to do as they told you," at my deepening frown, she elaborated. "Nothing has changed really. Except that you'll only be telling them what we want you to tell them."

It finally clicked in my head. "So- wait, is this like a… double agent thing?" I asked, attempting to grasp the concept of what she was telling me. "So, I'm snitching you guys to C-Sec still, but only snitching what you want me to snitch?"

My head span, and it was clearly written over my face so she released a sigh. "Look, you are a janitor, it's highly unlikely that C-Sec expects you to be giving them a trove of information. Just the occasional report on the staff to help them narrow down their list of options and guess when are we planning something or shit like that."

"So- just to clarify..." I couldn't help the smile that was gradually growing on my lips, along with the growing feeling of relief that welled up in my chest. "I'm not going to have my throat torn out and have my head mounted on Fist's wall? I'm good?"

"And what, so one of us gets slapped with a murder charge?" She smirked at me, I almost glowed. "Hell no."

"Is my uh... " I shifted on my feet. "I'm sorry, I have to ask- is my paycheck unaffected? Like- my pay isn't cancelled or anything? Everything is still the same with the exception of occasionally relaying information?"

"For the most part," she shrugged.

I scuffed my shoe nervously, glancing over at Bronx before averting my eyes from the krogan. "Did… did you tell Fist this idea? Or did he come to the conclusion by himself?"

"I'd love to take credit for it but no, it was all his."

"I'm surprised he didn't fire me and be done with it." I muttered, scratching my cheek.

"Because firing you would spook C-Sec off that he knows what they are up to," she said simply before a worried frown crossed her face, concern flashing within her emerald gaze. "Look, earlier, when I asked how you felt, I was serious. I know Fist has… quite a temper when it comes to it."

I nearly laughed at the question, swiping my hair out of my face. "I had no idea what I was going to do. If I was going to die- I'd say stressed is an appropriate word." I raked a hand through my tresses. "But now that I know it's gonna be okay… I feel better."

"You sure?" She peered at me worryingly. I suddenly felt an appreciation toward my supervisor, realising she wasn't as bad as I first thought. "You can take the day off if you want, take your mind off all this madness for a while."

"Thank you, seriously. And I would," I gave her a grateful look, leaning my hip against the wall. It was very tempting to take the day off. Incredibly so. All I wanted to do was curl up on the couch, maybe eat a bowl of cereal and watch the crappy reality TV show that I had started the other day. It was the type where it was so bad it was good. "But, as I've stated before- I have rent to pay. I can't risk a day off."

"Take the day off, don't worry about it." Akira bent her knees a little until she was down at my head level. "If it makes you feel any better you can always take up another shift to make up for it."

I was unsure, but gave a firm nod of my head. "Alright," my shoulders relaxed and I untensed my arms. "Thanks Akira."

"Don't mention it, now get out of here kid."

I gave another nod, smiling as I did before returning back to the closet to hang up my coveralls. It's nice I supposed, that I'll be back before midnight for once.

"Hey," Yulana smiled at me as I passed her at the bar on my way out. "Leaving early today?"

"Akira suggested I take it easy today, due to um… circumstances." I threw her a shrug. "I'll take an extra shift to make up for it though."

"Did something happen?" She asked, lips pulled together in concern. "Your skin seems more colored than usual, especially around your eyes and nose."

"I gues- I mean no." I sighed, rubbing my temple. I didn't feel like dragging more people into this mess I got myself into. "I'm good, don't worry about it." She didn't seem very convinced. Yulana poked out her hip, placing a hand on it as she sent me a dubious look. I forced a smile and waved her off, to which she shook her head. "Don't worry Yulana, I'm good, I'm good. I just need some sleep."

She looked like she was going to drop it, but then seemed to stop and stared at me, eyes regarding me with a thoughtful glisten. I immediately began to feel a little uncomfortable and shifted on my feet, placing my hand on the bar counter. "What?"

"You know, my friend is having a party tomorrow night," she informed me, leaning over. In the corner of my eye, I couldn't help but notice her rather large bosom press against the counter. I wasn't even sure I was bi- or into aliens. Or even just a pervert- but it was very hard to miss. They're huge.

A small pang of envy pierced my chest, but I ignored it. What sort of party, I wondered. Hopefully I wasn't being invited to a crack house- probably bad of me to stereotype but I'd rather not be involved in any more unnecessary drama. "Oh?"

Her mouth spread from ear to ear, a wicked grin graced her pretty features. I was suddenly nervous. "You should join."

"Oh, I- I don't know," a party was the last thing on my mind right now.

"I need a plus one," She nudged me gently in the forearm, tilting her head. Then her gaze flashed mischievously, her voice light and playful. "Free drinks and foooood,"

"How is it," I started, taking a seat at the stool, resting my legs on the feet stand attached to the bottom. "That you haven't even known me for that long- yet, you realise my weakness for free food."

Especially since I can barely afford it these days.

"I can read people easily," she swatted a dismissive hand. "It's part of my job."

This bit of news shouldn't have even affected me, but it did. My spine stiffened ever so slightly and I had to put my hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing. Fuck. If she can read people, how will I hide things from her? "Really? Are you good at it?"

"The fact that I am at least twenty times your senior probably has something to do with that too." She smirked, leaning down on the counter and propping up her head lazily with her hand. "So, what do you say?"

I tapped a finger along the painted metal, gaze slowly trailing the chipped nail varnish staining my nails. "I'll have to think about it."

"Don't take too long," she leaned over just enough to flick me in the forehead teasingly before sliding away to the other side of the bar, flipping up a glass and placing it onto the counter. I watched as she poured the alcoholic beverage, looking at the amber coloured liquid bouncing around the edges of the glass.

A ping from my omni-tool drew my attention away with a frown. I didn't have much contacts at the moment. Hell, my contact list was almost virtually nonexistent with the exception of Laben's. And he's busy with work right now, so who else could it-

Ah. Right.

I was almost tempted to ignore it just out of spite, but given the hold he currently held over me, that wouldn't be very wise. Letting out a long sufferable sigh, I acquiesced, tapping a quick command into my 'tool and opened the message.

"Miss Daniels,

As I promised, C-Sec can be generous to those who aid us. A small sum has been deposited into your account, take it as a sign on bonus.

Be smart and delete this once you are done reading it.

Regards, Styczyński."

At least they had the decency to keep their promise. I thought the pay would have been taken away after he threatened to arrest me and just use this hold as blackmail but apparently when he said I'd be getting paid for this shit storm bound to be brewing; he had truly meant it.

My eyes scanned the number before they widened to the size of plates, threatening to drop out of my sockets. 600 credits.

600 credits weren't really a large sum by any means, but given my current circumstances it was a godsend and a blessing. There's so much I could do with 600 credits, choices that were previously closed off to me due to lack of sufficient funds were now opened to me, a staggering list of things I could do, buy and improve my situation...

I took a deep breath, eyes closing and calming myself before slowly went over my available options. New clothing to start. I really needed some pairs before someone started taking notice that I've never changed my clothing. At all. That's going to bring up a lot of questions I didn't feel comfortable with answering. And pajamas perhaps. If I still had some leftovers maybe I'll consider it.

And new underwear too. Dear God, I really needed a few extra pairs of those.

Food. Not that I'm lacking in any right now but really, consuming cheap cereal and unhealthy, but cheap preserved canned food for almost two weeks straight was without a doubt damning to my health. Last thing I needed was to start falling ill and be forced to pour credits into medication.

Toiletries… nice to have but they could wait. Not something I placed under essential things I needed.

A new omni-tool would be nice too. The one I'm using right now, as I had discovered, was a third generation BlueWire Tool from Aldrin Labs. At least twenty years outdated and an utter piece of junk by modern comparison. Unfortunately, acquiring a replacement right now would be too costly and painful to even consider.

Not to mention unwise, since a better, more advanced and modern omni-tool would serve me no real purpose since I'm no hacker or particularly tech savvy.

As much as I regretted working for that C-sec dick, this… didn't seem that bad. Suddenly, doors were options to open in my world. I could safely sit in my apartment, that I easily paid rent for- and eat a take out whilst watching a crappy vid like Blasto if I wanted to. I could take a shower before changing into new clothes or pjs.

Whilst pajamas would be nice, it wasn't a priority. However, sleeping bare wasn't… unpleasant. It was unrestricting and kind of relaxing. I just had to hope Laben respected privacy and didn't storm into my room without knocking first- but he didn't seem the type, like my grandmother was. Laben made the rule of knocking in the first place as a part of the courtesy rule when living together. He found privacy important- so did I.

… and there's protection. A personal firearm.

Not something that had ever crossed my mind in the past. It was unthinkable. Not that I shared the mindset of one of those gun-right activists and their bullshit, it was just that… well, there wasn't really a need to own one.

Now? After all the shit I got myself into?

Owning one seemed wise. Except I had no idea how to use one, and owning a firearm without being trained in it's proper use or having some familiarity with it was the only thing more dangerous than being threatened by someone with a gun. Far more likely that I'll end up shooting myself in the foot if anything goes off. Or do something stupid with it.

Not to mention I'll most likely require a permit or license before I could purchase one. Which also costs credits. I could of course attempt to purchase one illegally, but that could end up shoveling me deeper into the big pile of shit I was struggling to dig myself out of. Especially if C-Sec found out, then I would find myself adding 'unlawful possession of a deadly weapon' into the list of charges they were currently holding over my head. Not to mention I had no idea who to even approach for that in the first place.

Kinetic barriers on the other hand…

Those didn't require permits or licenses. Not to mention much cheaper than a gun.

It's not going to help me by much if I ever found myself in a sticky situation, but it would however, buy me enough time to escape from it unharmed.

I wondered if I requested a gun from them for my own protection, that they would consider it.

The customer placed a talon on his stool and grabbed the drink with his other hand, leaning back into his chair to relax before scanning around Chora's Den to enjoy the view. I felt my head tilt to the side whilst I analysed the turian, realising he had no facial markings. Hmm, odd… wasn't being barefaced uncommon or something?

I made a note to read into it later on the extranet.

For now- I wanted to go shopping.

Excited over the new prospects, I stood up and tucked the stool in, getting ready to leave.

The atmosphere was a little humid, with a surprisingly amount of people buzzing around the markets. An asari women stood at one stall with her child, holding tightly to her hand whilst bargaining with a salarian, who seemed to be frustrating the woman so much there was almost a purple-pink tinge to her azure cheeks. A krogan towered over this one turian, but appeared rather tame and calm, quietly talking with him. I saw a bunch of aliens filling the large space, some even merging with humans. But I saw more alien than I did of my own kind.

There was an asari standing behind one stall and I approached, narrowly sidestepping one person who stormed through the horde of people. She yelled someone's name, then became engulfed by the crowd. I placed my hand on the counter of the stall, lifting a hand to wave and get her attention.

"Excuse me!" I politely cleared my throat, she shifted to my place, leaning over so I could hear her over the lively markets.

"Please scan our items using your omni-tool! Just connect and use the terminal to make a purchase!" She raised her voice, so I could understand. I nodded and moved away from the mass horde.

A lot of dresses made in the similar fashion I had seen a lot of asari wear around here. Ankle length, with slits down the side around the waist area. Some were less modest, and had a daring cut down the middle to the chest, which no doubt revealed a lot of cleavage. I passed on that one and kept scanning. There were a few good torso pieces for human females, elegant looking blouses and professional working shirts, I then eventually decided to check out the male section.

There were some interesting looking sleek trousers, along with some suits. I added some trousers from that section to my basket, before adding a comfortable blouse, purchasing a skirt with a nice shirt and two dresses, along with underwear. Finally, clean underwear. And at least people won't look at me oddly when I walk about in my new clothing.

Due to the sale that drew most of the people here today, I learned that it didn't come to much- and I bought one more thing; A lilac pencil skirt that stopped above the knees, with two odd thin suspender straps leading up to a deep blue vest top, which covered the neck and had short sleeves. It was strange, but bought it.

A lot of the fashion nowadays seem to lead to one suit outfits… unless it's an asari dominated area.

50 credits well spent, I thought.

Shopping for a civilian grade kinetic barrier for personal protection on the other hand, proved to be unsurprisingly much more complicated than I had actually thought is would be.

My knowledge of armors extended only to the ballistics resistant vests and that they 'stop bullets'. Here? Protection came in three different forms: shields, the armor and built in microcomputers that responds instantly to provide rapid response to any injuries that may occur with auto dispensated medi and omni-gel.

After long deliberations, and frustration to the condescending turian who owned the shop, I ended up with a simple and 'cheap' shield generator that would provide me with some limited protection should I find myself in a nasty situation. 'Cheap'. That damned thing had cost me nearly 400 credits, and at best could only top up to two, three shots before collapsing. Four if I'm really lucky.

Oh, and it had a heat problem, so I should keep it on for more than thirty minutes less I want that thing to short circuit.

On the bright side, it was easily concealable. It looked just like utility belt, except that instead of tools it held a micropower unit that provided power to the shield generator installed right beside it. Nobody would even look at me twice if I wore it under my clothes.

What's left of my 'sign on bonus' was quickly spent on a few other basic necessities, small things here and there that would make my stay more comfortable. A small odd sense of satisfaction swelled within me when I saw that my room wasn't as bare as before. Almost nice to have more than a few things that I could actually claim ownership off other than just the clothes on my back.

A longing pang hit me out of nowhere but I sighed and brushed off the homesickness that wrenched my gut. I told myself it was okay. That I would be fine. This was all temporary until I got home.

I dragged the chair by the side over to the window, leaning back into it and crossing my leg over the other. I teared a piece of the orange peel in my hand, gaze drawn to the bird's eye view of the wards. It was during the night cycle, lights on in some apartments, cars zipping forward in their high traffic.

I had a theory- well I had a bunch. But one was ringing clearly around in my skull that to get home, I needed to complete the game.

A frown knitted my eyebrows together. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and released a sharp exhaled, gradually picking bits of the orange. Complete the game, get out.

The other theory, was that to go back to my previous life, I needed to die in this one. But that was a risk I wasn't quite willing to do. I didn't want to die. I didn't have a massive life but it just seemed unfair. I had a family. I had friends. I probably didn't have any influence on the world at all but I deserved a chance, just like everyone else.

But….

To complete the game, I needed to join Shepard.

I had already thought about it. About how to survive in this world, it was ironically by the main protagonists side. Tucked in the front seat of danger, staring death in the face with every breathing moment. I could die instantly on the field. I wouldn't even know, I could get sniped in the head or hauled off on a Collector ship to be turned into a human reaper.

The image of me being converted into a human liquid was incredibly unpleasant, that I physically shuddered, a terrified shiver raking down my spine.

Either way, if I didn't join Shepard there was still a high chance of that happening. If I stayed out of it, if I stayed at home- in this apartment. I could potentially be turned into a husk. The reapers would destroy the Citadel. This apartment will break into tiny pieces. Laben….

My mouth thinned.

I hadn't known the guy long, but I didn't want him to just die.

I didn't want to get attached to anyone, seeing as how they could just die so easily. Any romantic partners were purely out of the question. But I was living with Laben, it was impossible to not get to know him and hard to not be friends with the guy.

If I could, I would convince him to move somewhere safe. Somehow… I didn't know how though- it seemed inevitable. If there was somewhere safe, I would be there in the blink of an eye by now.

My path was strongly drifting to Shepard, by the looks of things.

A dry smile painted my mouth. Glory and friendship awaits at the end point if I survive, right?

I highly doubt that would be the case here however. Because believe it or not, the games seemed to make things go a little too smoothly in the third game. Too smoothly especially considering that they are going up against a race of cthulhu like genocidal machines who had been exterminating life for millions of years. Whose main weapon was a red laser beam that cuts through shields and armour of a warship like it were butter. Or melting a skyscraper to slag.

Expecting things to go as smoothly as it did in the games would be as stupid as charging off into war after watching Rambo. Then finding out that war itself was less like how it looked in Rambo but more of Saving Private Ryan but a hundred times more hellish.

I stripped a piece of the orange, biting down into it. A citric taste burst onto my tongue and I chewed down on the fruit. Would Shepard even recruit me? Worse, what if they were the Renegade Shep? A downright asshole. Shepard could be anyone.

At this thought, I decided to put the orange aside, wipe my hands and use my omni-tool to search the extranet, typing in one thing:

Commander Shepard.

A shit tonne of results came up. But the top article that caught my eye chilled me to the bone and killed what little enthusiasm I had for joining the Normandy.

Fuck. Me.

Alliance Drops All Charges Against Torfan Butcher Despite Outcry.

There was a photo of her, telling me that Shepard is also female. The description put a coiling in my stomach, along with the image. Shep had short, jet black hair. It was short and spiked up with blue tips. Her skin was olive toned and flaring, bright emerald eyes stared straight at the camera. My gaze trailed the scar that stretched across her forehead, nearing her brow.

"Fuck me." I hissed, then let out a dragging groan, muttering to myself. "Fuck. Fuck!"

We were potentially doomed.

Shepard was a Renegade.