MASS EFFECTIVE 1.5: A HERO LOST

Saren's in the Past. Cerberus' in the Future. After the Battle of the Citadel, the Council is already ignoring the warnings we left them. And with Sovereign dead, the Crew of the Normandy have spread to the far corners of the Galaxy. So what the hell am I left to do? Become the Hero I always dreamed to be? Is that even possible? Probably. Rated T for Profanity.

(Author's Note - The First 11 Chapters of ME:AHL are written in full, as the author originally intended for the story. However, due to the unavoidable FF author syndrome, the story was not likely to be finished conventionally. So the rest of the story, as well as the series, was unfortunately finished through summation of plot points and the general arcs that Shield would undertake had the story been written in its entirety. This anthology series includes the plot points of Mass Effective 1.5: A Hero Lost, Mass Effective 2: A Hero Returns, and Mass Effective 3: The Hero. If you enjoyed Shield's journey in ME:AHM, know that it was a lot of fun writing for the guy, and giving detail to my own head-canon for how Mass Effect's plot could have been improved, and encompassed all lore ever released.)

July 27th, 2184 CE

The God-Forsaken Wastelands of Some Far Off Alien World

"Get in position god dammit! They're about to make it rain lead!"

"What position?! I thought we lost them-"

"Shut the fuck up and keep your eyes forward private!"

"Sorry sir! Yes sir!"

"And hey, you! Toothless! Shore up that ridge! I don't want my ass plugged by a stray round!"

"What he said! With all you FNGs around, I have enough assholes under me as is!"

"Moving!"

"And double check that you actually have thermal clips in your guns! Especially you Preacher! I don't want these new toys screwing us over!"

"Damn, I can't see shit through this fog!"

"I said shut up Private! Before I decide to deck you with a ton of bricks!"

"Sorry sir!"

"And where in Grissom Green's Earth is our signaler?!"

And that'd be me.

"He's still trying to get that intel from HQ LT!"

No, not this guy. Try again.

"Still?! We don't have time to play peek-a-boo with these damn birds! Tell him that he needs to get his fat ass up here! And to double time it!"

What the-

No, I didn't mean this guy either. Come on now. A lieutenant? Hah. If I was a commissioned officer, I wouldn't currently be stuck doing the dirty work down in these trenches. However 'vital' a duty it may be. No, further below the hill my unit was currently bunkering atop of, I was in the middle of another attempt at working the radio.

Puddles of mud splashed about as I tried to put a cable in, pull a cable out, shake a cable all about, shift it up, shift it down, shift the console all around, desperately attempting to get this damn receiver to work. And I really regretted my struggle with it too, as the grime was splattering all over my new threads. And yeah, you heard right. I finally got something other than my Onyx Armor to wear. Though that lifesaver from Aldrin Labs' has seen me through a lot of shit, I had to retire it about the same time it's ablative armor was sheared off in a violent explosion.

But yeah, I now currently possess the hottest new armor of this year's season: a navy-colored camouflage bodysuit of the typical Systems Alliance naval marine. That one you see every Alliance type wear in ME3. And apparently, there's a whole system and hierarchy to who's actually issued and wears what in which scenarios and what people gets whose gear but I'll get into all that later because honestly, we really don't have time for all that right now, just try to keep up with me here guy.

Anyways, yes, you heard right. 'Alliance armor you say? You joined the Alliance Navy?!'

Yeah, I joined the Alliance Navy. Like any of you wouldn't. I mean, I wasn't gonna go to Omega and start my own smuggling/pirate gang or anything like that. I didn't have the creds, the rep, or the cutthroat and/or bloodthirsty disposition one requires in such an occupation. And I sure as hell didn't want to join a merc gang. That'd be as wise as becoming a colonist on Freedom's Progress or Horizon. I didn't plan to die as cannon fodder in the name of some illegal act of random violence committed somewhere deep in bowels of the Terminus Systems.

So what else was there? I didn't exactly want some random odd job like working as a lifter for some random shipping company. And I didn't exactly have the background necessary for as prestigious a position as C-Sec either. While I'm sure my heroic actions alongside one of C-Sec's Special Response Units would have gotten me some dope career references, I didn't exactly have any prior experience as a po-po. And C-Sec only takes the best of the best, just the cream of the crop, only the sponsorship of an ambassador or council member even qualifying you for application. Although their hiring standards have somewhat lowered since the Battle of the Citadel...I still didn't meet a single one.

And honestly, neither of those, nor the dozens of other ideas I came up with, would even remotely help my end goal. Which of course, had originally been to stop Saren. God did that guy suck. But since the events of Mass Effect Uno had come and gone with nothing happening, no waking up in my bed, no great being telling me my mission was finally accomplished, no congratulatory screen saying I actually beat the sim or what have you... I was apparently in this for the long haul.

And with Saren long gone, I decided to update my goals in concordance. And of course, I only had two years to make them all happen. Unless whatever power that brought me here decided to whip me back out of this universe right in the middle of fighting the Collectors or some shit. Oh my god would that be frickin' annoying. But ah, I digress. You could dwell on all those if's, and's, or but's all day. Which would only be a fat waste of time. No, since the final events of 2183, I've had laser-guided focus in reaching my new goal. Which was now to simply prevent the shitty ending of ME3 from ever happening. Ever.

Human colony kidnappings? Naw. Asari screwing everyone over? Nope. Illusive Man fucking everyone's shit up? Haha no. And I had promised myself this most of all.

Shepard wasn't going to die.

Not again-

"Private! What the hell are you doing?!"

I suddenly found my extremely thoughtful, and poetic internal monologue interrupted by the loud bark of some guy I now found kneeling beside me, getting all up in my metaphorical grill. I mean like damn ho, get your scarred, nasty-ass mug all outta my face. It's like spacers never heard of personal space or something-

Then I remembered where I was. Man was this fog making it hard to concentrate.

"Oh, I'm, uhm...I'm trying to raise command...sarge!" I ended up eloquently replying, just noticing the bars on his shoulder plate. And with my pontificating now over, I quickly glanced back down at the machine, still finding the radio unable to connect to a relay.

But like I said, the trench we were in was VERY foggy, vision practically null, making it hard for me to even see what was going on with it. I wasn't completely convinced there weren't any particles or magnets or metals or some shit causing interference with the radio either. Or if I was just simply being incompetent-

"Well don't waste your time! We just found out they cut our comms!"

Oh. At least it wasn't me then.

"If you're with able squad, then get back to the line! Those damn birds are going to attack any second-"

And since the universe does love its specific brand of irony so, the loud cacophony of gunfire suddenly broke out beside the trench we were in, and-

Oh wait. Sorry.

Sometimes, everything happens so fast around me that it's hard for me to even keep track of where I am, let alone what's happening around me and what's-

Alright. Okay. I'm good now. I apologize.

Let me just backtrack from the very beginning.

...Ahem.

And since the universe does love its specific brand of irony so, the loud cacophony of gunfire suddenly broke out INSIDE the trench we were in, and several shouts of terror immediately erupted throughout it.

"Ah fuck!" the man across from me suddenly swore too as he was tagged by several rounds.

And then, the turian responsible immediately did the same as Sweetness and I whipped around, returning the favor. The subsequent headshots dropped the soldier to the ground, brown goop scattering everywhere as she faceplanted into the sludge of the ditch. And with that over with...now I could at least tell the Lieutenant where all the turians had gone.

"THEY'RE FLANKING US! MOVE IT!"

Oh. Guess he already knew then.

Welp.

This was bad.

Cue Mass Effect - Main Theme (0:40-1:00)

In the year 2183, an unintentional explorer from the 21st century discovered themselves in the realm of a famed franchise originally set in the Milky Way. In the time that followed, their subsequent adventures led said explorer to eventually find their raison d'être, enabling them to survive countless more scenarios of peril that followed them throughout the stars. This is their story. The basis for their impossible existence is unknown, contradictory to the very fabric of space and time.

The explorer called it utter BS.

The readers of this story call it...

MASS EFFECTIVE: A HERO LOST!

...

..

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ACT 1: The Alliance

September 31, 2183 CE

SA Reception Center Rhode, Earth

"Name."

"Shield."

"Full name please."

"Marauder Shield."

The portly man raised an eyebrow, incredulous, as his lazy glance was cast my way.

"Yeah, I know, the person who named me was very creative. Here are my forms."

Because even in the 22nd century, apparently, some circles still thrived on paper work.

"Mmm." He pointed to a counter in disinterest, resuming his prep. "Just put them over there along with your clothes."

It didn't take long for me to oblige as I was damn ready to get the hell out of here. If I needed to expose my tanned, supple, naked form to this doctor for that to happen, then so be it.

"Step inside the machine please," he muttered next, continuing to write gibberish down. "Hold out your arms like in the diagram. Yes, feet apart. Don't move."

I did as instructed, standing awkwardly as he casually flipped the thing on, machine's scanners immediately springing to life, arms swiveling around me, blue light enveloping my body as it finished its job in the span of mere seconds.

"1.82 meters. Hm. 81.6 kilograms. Systolic at 115. Diastolic at 66. Hmph. Blood Type B. Ah. Extensive genetherapy. Appropriate vaccinations. Cranial implant? Interesting. Appears subject is-"

He stopped translating the scanner's report as his eyes finally caught the problem, gaze actually directed at me for the first time since I walked in.

"...what in Arcturus' name...did you get yourself mauled by a pack of rabid dogs recently? The hell happened to you son?"

Son? I was probably only like twenty years younger than this old fart...oh my god.

You know, it still hits me hard every time I realize I'm technically, probably, reasonably, somewhere in my mid-thirties. Real difficult thing to wrap your head around. Probably what those people trapped in the body of the wrong gender feel like. Except with age. Though I'm sure that was a thing in 21st century too.

In regards to his question however, I only shrugged, just hoping that we could still get this over as quickly as possible, and finally end my wretched wait here in reception. It really only took like an hour and a half to fill out all those damn forms for enlistment here. So, it's truly insane that they've kept all us recruits here for as long as they have. I mean, it's already been...what...five days since I've gotten here? Maddening. Insanity. Our entire stay so far has just been an enormous waste of time-

I shivered as the physician tentatively continued their overdrawn examination, pressing their stethoscope onto my back, glancing at every other scar left from my previous adventures while doing so, obviously concerned.

"Really. Some of these wounds are still healing, open even, what in the world-"

"I haven't had the chance to put some medi-gel on the ones that reopened during the physical assessment. Sir."

"Why haven't you been checked into a hospital for these-"

"I was just released from one several days ago. Sir."

"Really?"

"...they said I was cleared for release."

The man took a sharp intake of air through his nose before stepping backward, removing his stethoscope.

"...was the place located in a back-alley son? Because I don't know what they were thinking. I can't possibly see any doctor clearing you as you are. In my professional opinion, I don't think you're in any kind of shape to be walking around, let alone capable of taking BCT-"

"With respect sir...I think I am." Though he wasn't wrong. I had definitely left that hospital before I had been cleared for release. "I can assure you a couple of cuts won't affect my performance-"

"Look, just wait a couple more weeks...Shield was it? At least before trying again. There's nothing wrong with coming back and finishing this all later. The Alliance won't disappear overnight-"

"Sir, to be frank, I don't have the time. I need to enlist. As soon as possible."

"And...why is that?"

"To...make a difference. Sir."

The portly physician stared at me before turning back to the application in hand.

"Well...if you wanted to do that, maybe you should have thought a little harder before getting yourself involved in a fight with a pack of-"

"I got these from the Battle of the Citadel...sir."

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry." Shame now plagued his face. "I'm sorry you were caught in that. No one, let alone an innocent bystander, should have to experience the horrors of war. But-"

"I was no civilian," I immediately made sure to correct him. "I defended that station from the geth side by side agents of C-Sec. I even received a commendation for my actions from C-Sec's Executor-"

"Look, that's extremely commendable but I can't in good conscience-"

"And if you actually read my forms, you'd see that one of my references is the Admiral Anderson, current military liaison to the Human Embassy on the Citadel. My efforts there impressed him. I hope my actions speak louder than my words doctor, but if they fail to convince you, then I'm not afraid to still resort to the other-"

"Is that a threat Mister Shield?"

"What? No! I...I meant that I'd just use my words to convince you instead."

"Oh."

"Because...doctor, if you approve me, and I'm not up to snuff like you say, I'd just fail and get myself kicked out of the academy before it really even starts. It wouldn't hurt anyone but myself. And that would just prove that I'm not able to carry out the responsibilities I even want. As they'll be much, much harder than this."

"Shield, if you just waited another-"

"I can't wait!" I now raised my voice at him. Because I didn't have the time. Two years. Maybe less. I had to be worth something by then. "It...it has to be now. I have to learn the skills this place gives you as soon as I can-"

"What skills?" he now responded, growing quite frustrated himself. "How to march? How to drill? ...how to shoot a rifle? How to kill-"

"How to protect. Doctor. Protect the people I want to." I've come this far. I couldn't lose now. Not to some random coat. "...Because I know what it's like to be unable to do that...and I don't want to experience that feeling ever again. Just let me prove to you that...no. Let me prove to myself that I can actually do this. That I can actually become the person I want to be. Just give me that chance Doc. I persevered through a lot in the past couple of months, and I sacrificed more than I'd like to get here. But I'm willing to give a lot more if it means I can help the people I want."

The doctor just shook his head as he rifled through my papers, flicking by one after another. He glanced at me, seemingly disappointed, before letting out another sigh and stamping the folder they were in. And my eyes lit up in response.

"This better not bite me in the ass son."

"Don't worry Doc! You won't regret this! Thank you!"

The man sighed heavily again, his long day apparently finally catching up with him.

"...and that was a very laud-worthy performance you gave there."

"Oh. Thank you."

"How long did you practice that?"

"Uh, long enough...I guess," I could only reply coyly, scratching my head. Though I have to say, it still felt pretty weird after being shaved. My handsome head of jet-black hair...gone. Entirely. Just like that. Was enlistment here truly worth the cost?

"Honestly though? I thought I'd need that speech for the fingers."

I then wiggled the two metallic digits on my left hand.

"We accept applicants with prosthestics as long as they're up to date and work as intended," the physician replied, finishing up the rest of the check-up. "You're free to go."

"Again, I can't thank you enough Doc," I replied, already redressing myself.

"I appreciate it. Now get out. I have about twenty more of you to see," he then told me curtly.

"Ah. Right."

"...and good luck, Private Shield. I believe you're going to need it."

Author's Notes:

As you might have gathered reader, this story is actually a sequel to another ME SI named Mass Effective: A Hero Made! To those who've read it, welcome back, glad to have you join me for this next ride! And to those unfamiliar with the ever-expanding saga, feel free to read this story without doing the same for the first! I'm sure you'll catch on to most of the OC's actions in the first game and story's overall tone within just these first few chapters alone.

Anyhoo, hope you're all ready for the next adventure, and a completely off the rails ME setting that covers a large amount of semi-canon lore you probably never even heard of! Real excited for it all! And hope you are too! Until next time, later gators!

Next time on Mass Effective: A Hero Lost!

It's not yelling, it's motivation. ALLIANCE BOOT CAMP!