I sat on the ground, leaning back against the VR pod I'd raced inside of, still trying to catch my breath. Most of the racers had left, either stomping away with thunderous expressions or just laughing and shooting the shit. A few pockets remain, but they ignore me and I ignore them.

"I want one," I say to Jade, echoes of the powerful machine still vibrating up my arms, humming in concert to adrenaline just fading from my veins. It's the closest thing to a stiffy I've had in months.

"No," is her immediate reply, and she continues as I open my mouth to argue, "You saw how easy it was to crash! Something that unpredictable can in no possible way be made safe! Besides, any ship above freight class goes that fast anyway!"

"Yeah, out-atmo," I definitely didn't whine, "That thing was fast as hell! It'd make land approaches a breeze!"

"You have a jetpack for that! Or on any civilized planet, skycars!" Jade rebuts, and I get the urge that she's restraining the desire to strangle me, AI or no.

"But if we do have to make a land approach over a long distance, and you can't say we won't, then having that or something like it would be very handy!" I retort. It's a good point, and not just because I'm imagining all the sweet tricks I could pull.

"Are ya that rattled, sugar?" A Proxy appears next to me with a flash of light, leaning suggestively on the pod. "Or are you sad you got second? 'Cause I gotta say, if you're sad after that amazing bullshit longshot you pulled…you might have issues."

"What?" I look up from my conversation, "Oh, no, I'm fine with that, just wondering how I'd be able to make one of those jet things in real life." And how do flips and barrel rolls in it. While also not dying.

"Zero Jets, that's what they're called," the projection shifts almost imperceptibly, the pose more natural and relaxed. "I'm also pretty sure that the R&D on completely frictionless material needed to make a jet go that fast in-atmosphere would cost about as much as a fleet, and they can't go into space."

I shrug, pushing myself up. "I guess, but it's nice to fantasize, you know? Playing in one of these things, though," I rapped the outer shell of the pod, the metallic noise echoing slightly. "Brings back memories of hanging at the Tayseri Ward arcade. Of course, it wasn't all fun and games…"

"Wasn't there some bastard turning VR pods into death traps like two years ago?" Moxy asks, crossing her arms and frowning as if the thought of a machine for fun being turned into a machine of death was a personal insult.

I snap my fingers in remembrance. "Yeah, Tel'Shezran and his Lighting Rounds. Little prick." What a pain in the ass that had been, and not just because Garrus got caught up in it by sheer accident.

"You know about it?" She probes, arching an eyebrow in interest. "Not too sure on the fine details, myself."

"Yeah, me and my team are the ones who cracked it, by chance more than anything," I shrug, stretching my neck as I wrack my mind for the fine details. "So there was this Quarian, Tel'Shezran, who loved games. He joined a tournament going on and ended up in fourth place, and that was such an insult that he decided to hack the machines the other players were using and made them do a one-on-one battle or race or whatever and if they lost, they got fried by the hacked systems. Thing is, he also set them to race against a computer who cheated, so they couldn't win."

"Bad enough to turn a game into a death trap, but to cheat, too?" Moxy clicks her tongue in disappointment. "How'd he get caught, though?"

"Well my best friend Garrus was in the tournament too, and his game was hacked but him being familiar with computers and shit let him realize it real fast," I explain, "Two other people had died and I figured if someone was petty and sadistic enough to fry people to death for playing games, then they'd probably watch it go down in person. While Garrus was racing and my partner Nelon was trying to figure out a way for him to, you know, not die, I decided to look through the crowd. Sure enough, I saw this little Quarian messing around on his omni-tool, so I snuck from behind to check it out and I saw the program he had up was a hacking suite. I called him out and he bolted. Had to chase that slippery weasel half a mile before it came to a shocking end…" I pause dramatically, looking to the shimmering projection expectantly. I've had to deal with her innuendo-laden speeches, she can let me be dramatic.

"And then what happened?" She obliges, crossing her arms. "And how'd your friend survive?"

"Well, completely unrelated to anything that anyone did a few days before involving a car chase and an accidental crash, a power conduit was damaged and had to be replaced. That day, as they had just patched it up, turned it on and were about to close it up, Tel'Shezran ran into one of the workers, stumbled and…" I mime a person falling into an open power conduit, along with inappropriate shocking noises. "Crispy-fried in a second. Couldn't eat bacon for at least three days afterwards. As for Garrus, well…the power line was hacked. Nothing was added, just hacked, so disconnecting the power meant the trap couldn't go off. A bit of an anticlimax, really."

"Yeah, kinda," she shrugs before waving her hand. "Anyway, you gotta get outta here, the next set of races are about to start. You can watch if you want, but you can't stay here."

"Right, and you said the next fight was in a couple of hours," I nod, pushing myself up and heading for the corridor, "Out of curiosity, what's the fight against?"

"Murderous Mecha-Horde Level Two," Moxy relays, ignoring my groan. "If you were bored fighting the first level that's your fault, sugar. Horde Modes are supposed to let you show off your style and power, until the higher ones at least. And level two ain't as easy as the first, so wow the crowd a little, huh? Show them TEETS off, you know?"

I sigh. I mean, she isn't wrong, more combat data is always good but while I want to show off and build my brand a bit, I don't want to show off too much. Giving some hypothetical future enemy an easily-accessed research point on my abilities would just be stupid. "There any fabricators in this place?"

"…Yeah, all over the place," the showoman waved an arm at our surroundings, the people and the Fill-ins hanging around, a few partaking in the debauchery the whole station was soaked in. "How do you think I build the Mecha-Horde, by hand?"

"By foot, actually," I reply before tapping my gun, "No, I mean a weapon fabricator I can use. I can provide the omni-gel if that's an issue."

Moxy gave a level look, her eyes narrowing slightly. "No. No weapon fabricators except behind the counters at the weapon stores, those should serve your needs. Thinking of upping your arsenal? Looking at how many weapons you've got, I gotta imagine you might be…compensating for something."

…That would've stung a lot more a few years ago before I'd lost what I had, and the fact that I was compensating for something: my lack of rapid-fire capability and kick-ass dual-wielding. "Well look who's talking, Madame. I suppose I can browse for a bit, see if anything catches my eye." I shrug and turn my head, finding a floating, brightly-lit sign cycling through a riot of colors depicting various types of weapons on it. "Perhaps I'll even whip it out and give the crowd a show, who knows?"

"See? Only a day and I'm already rubbing off on you," Madame Moxy smiled, buffing her nails on her coat, the movement sending her ridiculous breasts jiggling like two greasy bowling balls wrestling in a leotard. "Damn I'm good." Then the projection faded into flakes of glowing light.

Don't kid yourself, Moxy, I've been making juvenile innuendos ever since I became an adult. The gun shop matches the sign, being bright and colorful, looking more like an old-school arcade than a store that sells deadly weapons, with a fog-filled Fill-in tube behind the counter. As I approach, I feel the Rumble card vibrate on my belt and the pod hisses open, the Draenei from last night stepping out with the skin-tight suit now bearing several different logos in very interesting places.

Across the chest, mostly.

"Hello again, handsome." my self-control comes slamming down so that the only sound escaping from my mouth is more a sigh than a bark of bitter laughter, "Looking to power up your firepower?"

"Something like that," I reply with a wave. "What's with you being here?" I'm still not sure of the sentience/non-sentience of the Fill-ins, so I'll just default to 'treat them like people.' My hand taps the menu, opening the weapon selection before refining it to just SMGs.

"It's a part of the setup, blank Fill-ins take on the preferred character of the nearest Rumble Card," she answers, leaning on the counter and pouting, arms conveniently enhancing her cleavage, "Is that a problem? Do you not like me?"

I'm sure the wide, watery eyes and pouty lips would've been effective on me at some point. "I like you just fine; wouldn't have slept in your lap if I didn't. Just wondering." I scroll down, eyes scanning the list. Asari-style is burst-fire, which is not what I'm looking for, though the sticky explosive rounds are neat. Batarian-style, while rapid-fire, also had rounds that were shaped in such a way that they caused ragged cuts whenever they hit flesh; while cool, I doubt most of my enemies will be wearing just clothes. Or naked.

One can hope.

I look up from the terminal, the Draenei Fill-in still leaning on the counter, her hands cupping her cheeks as her tail slowly swishes through the air. "You got a name?" I ask, moving the Batarian SMG over to a 'Try Out' list.

"Yours," she answers as if it was obvious.

"Mine?" I clarify.

"No, Yours," the Draenei repeats, shaking her head, the thin tentacles behind her ears waving with the motion.

"So, Sa-Onslaught?" Weird name for a woman.

"No," she puffs her cheeks out in annoyance, "The default name for a Fill-in is 'Yours.'"

My hands come to a stop as I look up at her, the static of Jade…giggling? Vibrating through my skull, trying to parse the logic she'd presented me. "…Right…which is Onslaught."

"No!" The Fill-in throws her hands up in the air before bringing them back down, sketching out a nametag on the front of her suit. "The default designation for a Fill-in is-!" It fills in, reading, 'Hello, My Name is 'Yours.' "-Yours!"

"…Oh." I feel just a little stupid now, not helped by the laughter echoing in my ear. "As in…"

"'I'm Yours,'" Yours replies, sighing in relief. "Yes, I know it's confusing, but Madame Moxy refuses to change it. Whenever someone asks, she just laughs to herself and says, 'classic.'"

…Huh. Bit of a dick move there, but to be honest, I would've done something similar. And also seriously, how sentient are these things? I barely noticed I was talking to a mech. "So, to avoid that again, I should probably name you, then."

"Yes please," the Fill-in nods, leaning invitingly on the counter again as I go back to browsing.

"What about…Yorha?" It's the first thing that comes to mind, shut up.

"A bit derivative, don't you think?" Is her response, arching an eyebrow.

"Cortana?" The other eyebrow goes up as well. "Okay, yeah, you aren't purple." A Krogan-style SMG is what most people would consider a cut-down Assault Rifle and about the same size as a human shotgun, and it also fires a bunch of metal shards instead of regular rounds. I move it to the 'Try Out' list just because it sounds cool, if not particularly useful at any range besides point blank.

"How about something more fitting to the setting?" The Fill-in offers with a shrug, gesturing at her horns, decorative tentacles and other alien features. "A fantasy game, so something fantastic."

Well, when I play those kinds of games, I usually do it as a tanky warrior class with self-heals because I like survivability. Though I have to admit, the classes with best-looking gear are the more arcane ones…hm. "How about Arcane…Arcane-e. Arcani."

"Arcani?" She asks, the subtle yet delightful trill of her somewhat-Russian accent rolling the 'r' wonderfully. "Yes, I think that would work…though I would've preferred at least two more tries. Does it work for you, handsome?"

"Yeah," I nod, casting my gaze back on the screen and pausing. A Kassa Locust? The gun that killed two Presidents when an assassin pulled it during a conference and the Vice President dove in front of the President…and it still punched through both of them. Very good armor-piercing, especially for an SMG, though not quite as fast I'm looking for…but I'm going to buy it anyway, those things are cool and hard to find. "So what's with the store? Is there a shooting range or something where I can try these out? I'm assuming there is, given the 'Try Out' option."

"Of course," Arcani replies, waving a hand at the booths lining the walls. "Whenever you're ready, I'll show you how they're used. You just purchased Fabrication Rights for a Kassa Locust…though you used credits. Have you already made a decision?"

"No, I just wanted one," I say, scrolling down further. Oh hey, a Tempest…very fast rate of fire, shit accuracy, but I'm not planning on using just one kind. Like most of my weapons, it'll be a combination of many with the best parts combined to make something better than the others while also looking and being generally kickass, if specialized. "Ready to try these out, though."

"Follow me, handsome," Arcani purrs, stepping out from behind the counter and leading me towards a shooting range cabinet thing, her hips swaying and tail curling. As I step up to the counter or whatever the list appears in the bottom left, a typical concrete shooting range stretching out before me, though I don't think most shooting ranges are bright pink. "Simply tap the name, give it a minute for the weapon to form, select your range, then have fun."

"Alright." Doing so, the first weapon comes together. The style is blocky yet minimalist, the various polymers and metals uncolored and plain. The only real sort of ornamentation is a trigger guard that curves from the underside of the barrel to the grip, which I suppose someone could grip for extra stability. "Targets." Simple metal targets pop up in a staggered line, bullseyes on the head, chest and between the legs. Sighting down, I brace and pull the trigger, but something odd happens. I see the gun buck, hear the discharge and see the targets falling, but I feel exactly none of it.

At my confused look, Arcani taps her arm. "You haven't connected to the system and authorized haptic feedback," she explains. "You have your onboard network set to private."

And encrypted to hell and back."Well no shit," I mutter, opening my omni-tool and silencing my outbound sound. "Jade, you think you can slip something through the connection?"

"Well, I have been experimenting with cloning my processes. Perhaps a splinter or a seed that feeds on the host data to compile itself?" She muses, and I can feel the static of her thoughts crackling against my brain.

"What would you call that, a Subordinate Mind? A Sub?" I ask, pretending to fiddle with my settings. "Think you can pull one together before I finish testing these weapons?"

"Of course I can," Jade replies, sounding slightly offended, "There, connection established. And no, something like Seed or Root."

Switching my sound back on, I take the gun up again. "Targets." Once more, targets pop up and once more I sight and squeeze the trigger. This time the gun presses back against my palm and the muzzle climbs. The recoil on this bitch is seriously bad. First six shots were on target, but all the others missed, and the recoil wasn't straight up either. Adjusting my grip, I call up the targets again and fire, feathering the trigger.

It's a bit easier to control this time, but even in short bursts the accuracy is shit. Feels like someone slapped a rapid-fire weapon together just to fire it wildly into crowds…of unarmored targets…and it's a Batarian company…ah.

"Indeed, it isn't a very reliable weapon," Arcani says, reaching an arm across my chest to press a finger above the trigger guard, "But it does have an interesting addition." With a sharp, heated shing, a viciously curved omni-blade bursts into life, the blade nearly six inches long.

…So. They put a bayonet on a submachine gun. With how trash the accuracy is, I can see why. "Interesting. Next weapon." The Krogan-style SMG as said before is blocky and about the size of a shotgun. It'd look appropriate as an SMG in a Krogan's hands, not so much in mine.

The accuracy was still bad, but recoil climb was more vertical, so there was that. As I thought, the shredder rounds were pretty much useless outside of close range, but made for decent suppressive fire. Also fun as hell to shoot, but more for the novelty than anything else.

Shooting the Tempest is, well, normal. Average in almost every way; high fire rate, decent recoil with a predictable climb with good burst-fire accuracy and shit full-auto accuracy. "I'm gonna buy all of them," I announce, setting the gun down and turning back towards the counter. "None of these have exactly what I need, so I'm just going to make my own."

"Are you going to use your Charge this time?" The draenei asks, leaning on the counter beside me. "I saw your race, and I'm curious to know how much you gained from it."

"Me too," I agree, pulling the Rumble Card from my belt and slotting it into the console, the screen changing into the bombastic results font.

ZERO JET RACE 1: RESULTS:

FUN: 80/100 - That end was awesome! Not so much before.

APTITUDE: 80/100 - was good.

POSITION: 90/100 - Second Place!

STYLE: 100/100 - Holy shit what the hell was that?!

OVERALL: Stroked all the way to end. Charge: 9565

"Not bad," I mutter, scratching the chin of my helmet. I've got somewhere around twenty-three thousand Charge, which is enough to buy the Batarian SMG and the Tempest…but I'll just use my credits, because my personal budget is quite large. "There. Well, I've got some work to do, so…"

Arcani gives me a pout on par with a sniper round to the heart, but there's no way I'm letting anyone I don't personally know on my ship. "You will visit me again, right? I very much enjoyed our time together last night…" She flutters her eyelashes enticingly.

I shrug. "If I'm sticking around until tomorrow, probably. Otherwise no."

"Awww," her face falls, tail drooping as I head for the door. "I eagerly await our next meeting all the same."

I give her a wave and head out down the walkway, my eyes scanning the neon signs and facades until I slow to a stop. "...Where the fuck am I? How do I get back to my ship?"

In answer, a golden arrow coalesces before me, pointing to the left. It floats ahead at the same place as I walk, so I follow it. So, if the Proxy popping up every time I ask for one wasn't enough, it's obvious that not only does Moxy control the entirety of the station, that includes hearing and seeing everything everyone says or does. No wonder no one's tried to fuck with her. All it would take is one person getting too drunk or high and spilling something they shouldn't and bam, everything-proof shield.

If she isn't quite the hedonist she appears to be, this whole place would be an Orwellian nightmare. One thing at a time.

The Scarab's ramp hisses open as I approach, the dark interior lighting up. It's a short walk to the cockpit, with an extensive workbench on the right and a pile of boxes full of grenades and omni-gel next to it. On the left is a fabricator to fix or upgrade my armor that doubles as a stand, with a cot and a small bathroom space taking up the rest. Think it's a bit optimistic to have those last ones considering my state, but it makes sense for a prototype single scout/fighter ship.

As I near the bench, the fabricator slides open and a freshly-made Krogan SMG slides out to join the Batarian one and the Kassa Locust already there. They all go on the wall above the bench, like a little trophy case that also works as backup if I need them. "Jade, bring up the weapons and stats."

A holographic representation of the Locust, Batarian and Tempest form above the bench, a list of firing speed, accuracy and heat capacity along with pros and cons underneath. "Based on your description, I would say a weapon between the Batarian SMG and the Tempest is what you're looking for."

"That's what I was thinking, but neither of those had the best recoil," I reply, rubbing my jaw, "And while replacing every oxygen molecule with bullets is an acceptable method of incapacitation, the lack of accuracy would be unsustainable in populated areas. That shit won't fly in Council systems."

"Of the three, the Locust has the best recoil in both burst and automatic fire," Jade comments, highlighting the relevant parts of the gun. "The shaving block is integrated into the grip, adding weight as well as length to the barrel."

I hum, clearing a space in the center. "Separate the parts and label." As the hologram does just that, I drag those pieces towards the center. Then I reach out and grab others, pulling together a rough outline. Examining it for a second, I swap out the barrel and add in the curved omni-blade bayonet. "Streamline."

Parts become uniform, fitting together neatly into a compact package. "Fire rate: high, decent recoil, high heat capacity, lightweight. It's just about everything one could ask for in an SMG. Want me to begin fabrication?"

"Do we have the readings from Geth weaponry? Add phasic coating to the rounds so they'll pop shields like soap bubbles." The middle bulks out slightly, but otherwise remains unchanged. "With phasic rounds and the high rate of fire, they'll be excellent for stripping kinetic barriers, good at popping Biotic Barriers, but for heavy armor they may as well be shooting spitballs…" Ah, that works. "Designation, Spitballers. Also make two, I wanna dual-wield."

"Alright, on it. Fabrication started. Although…" The display changes from the gun to my armor, followed by a question mark. "Where are you going to put them?"

"On my…" Huh. I don't really have that much room on my person.

I've got Invictus on my right thigh, my knife above that the perfect angle quickly reach down, draw and cut, with my lightsaber hanging from my belt behind that; Medusa on the right side of my back, Tyrant near the small, and my grenades on the back of my belt. "Okay, so-" I reach behind me and draw Tyrant, lifting it over my shoulder and positioning it as a mirror to my assault rifle. "That goes there, then I can store one Spitballer on my left thigh in an easy position to draw that and Invcitus at the same time, and the other angled on my back. That works."

"I think so," my AI companion hums, the graphics fading. "So, how long are we going to be here?"

Drawing my knife, I twirl it between my fingers, the sharpness of the blade nearly audible as it cuts through the air. Having it, Invictus and my lightsaber close together makes sense, easy to reach and easy to use, but that area is a little full of stuff. "As long as we need combat data and depending on how far I get in this tournament. If something else more important comes along, we'll deal with that." Maybe some kind of hiding place for my knife is in order.

"Garrus should be showing up on Omega soon. It'll be nice to see him again, don't you think? Him and Chloe. Nihlus, too."

"Mm." Maybe a sheath on the underside of my arm? Might be a bit awkward to draw at first, but surprise slash is a nice way to end an argument. Holding the hilt so the length of the blade reaches down my forearm, the look of it jogs something even though it feels wrong.

"I wonder how Ashley, Kaidan and Tara are doing? Any N-Level training is supposed to be grueling, but I think after the Geth it'll be a breeze for them."

"Yeah." Flipping the blade around so that the tip rested just below my wrist, I push it out and it hits me. "Jade-"

"-And it would be a good idea to check in at HQ, I hear the NEMO Pods have-"

"Jade," I cut across, opening up my omni-tool, "You got anything for spring-loaded devices?"

I can feel her confusion and slight dismay. "Uh, not really? It's kinda archaic compared to Eezo tech, even magnetic holsters. Why?"

I pull up a video of a man in a white robe stabbing someone in the neck. "I have an idea."

…

…

…

…

A/N: Hello again, strangers, friends and lovers. As you can see, I'm holding to my fixation on this story and as was stated, things are going to pick up soon enough as more of the arc is explored and the main story takes shape. It's gonna get crazy.

I won't lie, this chapter fought me a bit, not because I wasn't inspired, you see, but because I was way too inspired. Last time that happened, I ended up publishing like, four different stories at the same time.

And some of those might be getting some attention soon, wink. Wink.

WINK.

Austin: You okay?

Anyways, thanks for stopping by and watching this guy struggle to pull a story together while battling his deadly foes: his own hyperactive, flighty muse and procrastination! The Deadly Duo!

Have a commercial.

"Here at Solaire Optimal Solutions, we recognize that as the technology of recreation advances, so too must the strength of security." The tall mech with the extremely deep voice strode languidly across the screen, the camera panning over a myriad of people zipping around in jetpacks. "With access to enhanced mobility, it is natural that some will use this new technology to beyond acceptable limits."

Various images flashed on screen, a figure peeking through a high-rise window, another peering down at a couple on a walk, another clinging to the top of a sky-car as it sped through a lane, and finally someone boosting over an entire team to slam-dunk a basketball on the other side of the court. The lone jetpacker was definitely an adult, while the other team looked to be children.

"As the primary manufacturer and distributor of jetpacks, it falls to Solaire Optimal Solutions to take responsibility," the mech continued, now passing an empty stretch of room with two pylons on either side. "To that effect, we've devised an exclusive security device: The Jetpack Exclusionary Field."

A figure with a jetpack on their back comes flying towards the mech's back. As it flew between the pylons, it suddenly sputtered and began to drop until the person landed on their feet with only a slight stumble.

"With the Jetpack Exclusionary Field and a new software update launching tomorrow, anyone using a jetpack in range of the Exclusionary Field will receive a warning from their system. If they continue, the Exclusionary Field will access the system of their jetpack and reduce its functions to the bare minimum, leaving them safely on the ground." The mech turned to face the camera, the logo fading in as its optic faded out. "At Solaire Optimal Solutions, we care about the effects of our products. Secure yourself today."

"Solaire Optimal Solutions. Optimal Technology, for a Brighter Future."

Thanks as always to NorthSouthGorem, AJR3333 and Dairegh for poppin' in and whatnot, why not give them a look and see what they're doing? Then point and laugh. Anime?!

Ha. Nerds.

Anyways, remember to review and check out my pals. Stay indoors, the outside only brings pain. Indoors is safe. Indoors is nice. Indoors has couches.

Stay Safe, Stay Awesome.

~Soleneus

P.S.: Fuck me when did my country become chaos? I keep telling my friends and family, New Zealand's where it's at. Temperate weather, no virus, it's not fuckin' Australia, and hey, hobbits. It's the closest thing we got to Planet Sensible right now, so as soon as I get the money, job and stable internet connection, you best believe the Shire's going to get a visitor.

Fuckin' Christ, seriously. What the fuck 2020?