Author's note: Well, after months of deliberating and plotting out the entire storyline, I present to you the first fanfiction that I've written after such a long time absence from the site! The Mass Effect universe is just so well-established and seeing as how it's chock full of so much lore, I've decided to do contribute my part in trying to expand on an already impressive universe.

I guess the main thing that I'm trying to achieve with my story is to further flesh out the universe because the game can only allow us to experience several aspects of what the galaxy has to offer in terms of localities, environments and the cultures of the intergalactic community. In short, my story will lean more towards vividly realizing elements of the galaxy that players of the Mass Effect games only got a small taste of when they assumed the role of Commander Shepard. Things such as how living as a elite member of Citadel society would be like, the life of an adopted human son with a turian foster parent, and the kinds of shenanigans that one would get up to during an intergalactic road trip, and stuff like that.

Don't worry though, there's still plenty of riveting action sequences that punctuate the story and rest assure, I didn't skimp on the plot and characters, especially when it runs parallel with the events of the first game. With that said, I hope you'll enjoy reading Mass Effect: Remnants! Do leave a review if you liked it! I'd more than appreciate the constructive criticism on my writing!

Oh before I forget, the disclaimer! Ehem, the Mass Effect universe is copyright of Bioware but all characters except those stated otherwise are the brainchild of yours truly.

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 1 – Of Uncle Leo and I

Countless stars, all of them bright, glittery jewels that adorn the infinite night sky twinkle all around me. I float freely through this expanse, weightless and free.

I find myself in the cockpit of a starship of some kind, staring blankly out into endless expanse of space. For some reason, the air of insurmountable grief and haplessness permeates the cockpit. These emotions can only be that of my own, yet I feel as though I'm a passive observer only sharing in these sensations.

Several planets in a system soon come into view; their vibrant colors a resplendent sight against the cold, bleak backdrop of space. The sun lying at the center of the system emanates a soft, warm glow that light up the surroundings, completing the picture's very resplendence. The starship comes to a stop before this majestic sight.

I stare in wonder, awestruck at both the beauty and the scale of this wonder of the universe. I reach out and I could sense myself drawing closer and closer to one of the uncharted planets, a spherical mass clothed in bright palettes of blue and green. Just then, I detect a shift in the air of the cockpit. Is that a sense of elation and of hope perhaps? I get the notion which I can only describe as the feeling of knowing that you're not the last of your kind out here. The starship sets a course for this planet.

Somehow, I'm wrenched from whatever being that my consciousness previously inhabited and pulled into my own self-aware self. A distant yet sonorous voice speaks. The voice is grand, majestic; transcendent. It sounds as though many a people spoke, yet all their voices coalesced into one soothing paean. I turn around to face the source of said voice, looking back again at the vast emptiness of space. There isn't a soul in sight; I'm the only one out here. Yet, the voice booms once more in my consciousness.

Child, come hither and heed these words.

Know that we are all brought into this existence, this never-ending cycle of death and rebirth for a reason.

Every being is gifted with their rightful place and purpose in this plane of existence.

Some of which are more significant than others.

Know this, for a legacy is entrusted to each and every one of us.

Do not fail where we have. Succeed where we have not.

While we lie in our ruined past, yours must brave the future.

But know this; there are forces of which we cannot comprehend that lurk in shadows.

Forces that reap the seeds of despair and destruction

And these reapers shall riddle your long and already arduous path.

Dear child, while you carry the burdens and regrets of beings long gone

Let it sway you not from your path.

Persevere in the face of adversity and stand strong with the courage of others.

For the future is yours to make and yours to keep.

Such is your purpose.

Such is your inheritance.

Such is your legacy.

Heed these words and go forth,

Our most cherished remnant.

The voice dissipates as it speaks the final few words, and I turn my attention back to the planets….only to find them lying in ruins. The once vibrant terrains of each planet are scorched with large swathes of fire and destruction. Large columns of smoke can be seen billowing out into orbit. The sun, its brightness lending warmth to the surroundings just moments before; flare menacingly, basking everything an angry shade of orange.

Then, a blinding beam of light explodes in my vision, and I shield my eyes. As my vision gradually returns, I make out the source of the light; the 'eye' of a mechanical, squid-like collosus. I can feel that it's an organic being with sentience, albeit being more of an amalgamation of machine and artificial intelligence. Worse, I know that the destruction they are leaving in their wake is not their first time, nor will it be their last.

As fear slowly overwhelms me, I note that similar beings were emerging all around the planets, their numbers in the thousands as they descend upon the hapless planets and lay waste to everything in their sights. Destructive rays of red light flash intermittently all across the surfaces of the planets, cries of agony echo into the cold dark void of space. Still, the unrelenting machines continue on.

The gargantuan being notices me at last, its gaze firmly fixed on me. It lets out a deafening bellow of rage and my head explodes in searing hot pain. Red clouds my vision and I grind my teeth so hard in an attempt to quell the pain.

Just when the pain gets to such a degree that I wish I would just drop dead and let the pain die away with me as well, the world around me fades into blackness. There are no longer any stars twinkling in this world of black. And on the bright side, neither are there any more of those menacing squid-like creatures.

But the last thing I recall is those cryptic words.

"Our most cherished remnant."

Then, I awake from my dream.

A warm, red-orange hue fills my vision. I blink once and then twice, opening my eyes to the white monochrome ceiling above. Shrugging off the haze of sleep from my mind, I sleepily turn towards the holographic clock on the bedside table. Its orange display reads 6.45, Human Coordinated Universal Time.

I groan out loud. That'll be the last time I play Code of Honor before bed again. Of course, I have been telling myself that for the past few months now.

That disturbing dream of mine comes back into clear focus. It's been, by my count, the third time this past week now? I swear that those dreams get even more vivid and surreal every single time they recur. Now, all that's left to remind me that they even happened at all is a dull throbbing at the back of my head. Just what the heck were they all about? Some end of the world prophecy or something? Just goes to show that I really need to stop watching all those post-apocalyptic vids on the extranet.

I grunt as I struggle to sit up and reorient myself.

God, I hate mornings.

It's a constant battle to ignore that bodily urge to just close ny eyes, fall back into bed and give into the temptation of just snoozing until the late morning. But my guilty conscience and Uncle Leo would soon nag at me for missing classes at school again. Not that it really matters.

I force myself out of bed. I put my bare feet on the grey-matte floor and shiver slightly at its unexpected cold. Stretching myself and stifling a yawn in the process, I turn to the window blinds across my bed and tap on its holographic controls. The blinds part to reveal a clear, cloudless indigo sky streaked with the receding night; now only a shade of auburn to mark its presence. A pale yet stunning sunrise in the east ushers in the new day above the quaint and orderly layout of houses and green lawns that span my neighborhood.

At least the morning's looking all good.

I turn my attention back to my square-sized room and note its barrenness. The table that houses my computer terminal on the bed's right side has only my datapad that I use for schoolwork, and the reading lamp that Uncle Leo insisted I put there lying idly on its surface. The gaming console sits innocuously to the side of the table.

The white, black-trimmed monochrome walls are untouched and sparsely decorated, save for the occasional posters of Blasto the Jellyfish and the intergalactic simulstim band Expel 10. My cupboard is built into the wall space on the bed's left and I sleepily rummage through what limited content it has, settling for a pair of blue slacks, a white graphic tee and a light brown jacket to go over the shirt. It might get a little chilly today.

Then, I head on out through the automated sliding doors and into the bathroom directly opposite my room. I pass in front of Uncle Leo's bedroom door and wonder if he's inside there, sound asleep. I pause to decide if I want to take a peek inside. I drop the idea. Chances are that he's not back home yet.

In the bathroom, I get into the shower and run some warm water through me in an attempt to wake myself up. Safe to say, I didn't even need bother. Even after that deluge of water to get my senses up and running, I'm still half-asleep and half-dead.

Once I'm done, I emerge and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I let out a deep sigh and absent-mindedly study my features while I brush my teeth. I can't believe I'm finally turning 18 and graduating high school in a few months time. That should be good thing….right? But, I'm just not feeling that sense of elation. In any case, the young man in the mirror with wavy jet-black hair and equally onyx-black eyes looked well beyond his years. And the tired, somewhat despondent glint in his eyes only added to the effect.

At first, I just chalked it up to the constant moving around that pretty much summed up my entire adolescent life with Uncle Leo but now…I'm not so sure anymore. I shrug it off, get dressed and head on down to the kitchen.

"Uncle Leo?" I call out, making my way down the stairwell and turning a right into the kitchen, which is separated from the living room by a general, multi-purpose countertop.

"If you're back home from your shift at the museum, I just want to let you know that I'm about to go to school now." The entire house, basked in the auburn glow of the rising sun streaking through the clear front windows, is blissfully silent.

Well, I'm not surprised. Uncle Leo does have a tendency to sleep through the last few hours of his graveyard shift at the museum. I enter the kitchen and just like the rest of the house, its white and black-trimmed monochrome walls are also sparsely decorated. Then again, there's little point in furnishing the house when we would just pack up our bags in 2 years' time and move again depending on where Uncle Leo's new job takes him next.

As I take a box of cereal and some slices of toast from the shelves to prepare breakfast, I muse over my life with Uncle Leo so far. First thing that comes to mind: we move a lot. I'm not exactly sure why but I can only guess that it concerns his job, although Uncle Leo never delved much into the specifics. I never did ask many questions about it back then seeing as how hard Uncle Leo worked to raise me and provide for us throughout the years.

As for me, I never really got to know my parents. According to Uncle Leo, Mom died shortly after I was born. It was an unfortunate accident that involved a really bad car crash, or so I'm told. And Dad? Well, he left when I was four and from there on, it was Uncle Leo and me all the way. So much so to the point that I really never did grieve much over the fact that I could hardly remember my birth parents; Uncle Leo eased himself into that void and has been there for me ever since.

Sure, he tries his best to make us feel like a normal, tight-knit family; the obligatory birthdays, we've celebrated; the more traditional holidays like New Years and Christmases, we've done our best to honor; but from what Uncle Leo and I share, we're definitely more than just your average family. He's more than just a foster parent; he means the world to me.

Also, the incessant moving pretty much kept my mind off of the matter anyways. If memory serves me right, our current residence in the suburbs of New Madison in the United North American States is the 7th house we have occupied in our nomadic lifestyle. Much like the current state of the house, I've been leading a rather lonely life most of the time. I don't think it's as much a problem with my personality rather than circumstances. I'm a sociable person, but the constant moving makes it hard to find and maintain long-term friends.

I remember the many times when a younger me would throw tantrums over the matter and the helpless yet pained expression on Uncle Leo's face as he tried unsuccessfully to console me. But let's face it: these things can be rough on someone at the age when he just wants to blend in, hang out with friends and lead an otherwise ordinary life.

However, my life is anything but ordinary. And it's not just the constant moving around either.

I finish my breakfast and down a glass of milk from the refrigerator only to notice that through my reverie, I took a good ten minutes longer than usual for breakfast. Having placed the plates in the dishwasher, I remember my school bag upstairs.

Damn it!

I curse my absent-mindedness. I usually never get to hear the end of it from Uncle Leo. I hurriedly stomp my way upstairs, grab my bag hanging by the edge of the bed, shove my datapad inside and rush downstairs. My watch display shows 7.45, meaning that I have ten minutes to complete the otherwise fifteen minutes commute to school. In my rush, I don't even notice the blue skycar pulling up into the driveway.

As I approach the bottom of the stairwell, I jump down the last few flights. I turn left through the living room to head to the front door. The otherwise red, 'locked' holographic door display blinks green and with the soft hiss of pneumatics, the door slides open to reveal a sleep-deprived and yawning turian standing in the doorway.

"Uncle Leo!" I exclaim, relieved. "Great, you're finally back!"

"Why yes, I am. What's the matter?" the turian speaks in that distinctive flanging voice of his.

"Now, I know how you're always telling me to be early to school but just for this once, can you please, please, please drive me to school?" I plead like a five year old. "I'm running a little late."

Oh, have I mentioned the fact that Uncle Leo's a turian? A middle-aged turian who's finally starting to show his age, as attested to by his grey, wrinkled faceplates. The odd skin pigmentation of his that leaves a streak of white across his features only added to the effect. Coupled with that ridiculous fringe-hat that he insists on wearing wherever he goes, Uncle Leo's a far cry from your everyday turian.

So, there you have it. We're both exemplary models of an interspecies family.

"Nate, I think you probably already know this but the answer's no," he replies, punctuated with a very big yawn.

Could their mandibles even stretch like that?

"We've had this conversation before and besides, if you've gotten yourself out of bed sooner, you wouldn't be late in the first place." A bleary-eyed Uncle Leo brushes his way past me, wobbles a little and collapses head-first into the sofa, still fully dressed in his blue turian suit and all. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've had a very long night in setting up the latest turian exhibit in the museum. I could use some shut-eye right about now."

"But Uncle Leo, this is an emergen––" I needn't bother. The poor old turian's already fast asleep with a blissful smile on his face. And the fact that he's mumbling something about supportive hips and drooling all over the cushions means that I won't be getting him up for the next few hours or so.

I sigh in exasperation and storm through the front doors, having already been deprived of precious seconds. In my haste, I catch myself mid-way down the porch steps and double back to activate the lock on the door. Then, I sprint off as fast as my legs would carry me towards the nearest monorail stop. I, for one, do not intend to ruin this bright and perfect day by being late to school. After all, what could be worse than showing up to school late for the umpteenth time?

"Target acquired. Scans show positive identification." A blonde man dressed in a black suit and seated in an inconspicuous car speaks into his omnitool's communications display as he watches from across the street, a human teen exiting a house and then dashing off hysterically to the Westport Valley monorail stop. "Affirmative, the operation is a go. No, back-up won't be necessary; I can handle this myself."

"Remind me to congratulate Operative Kaimori on rediscovering the trail," the man continues as he reaches over to the passenger seat to pick up a datapad and starts scanning through its screen that display the respective dossier of his two targets.

Leonus Daelon, turian male in his late 40s, and Nathaniel Sunderland, human male, age 17. Codenamed Project Remnant. 14 years on the run and they've been right here on Earth all this time. Who would've thought?

He activates the communications line. "The mission parameters still hold?" A voice at the end of line chatters indistinctively.

"Understood." The man pauses for a moment as he weighs in on his options. "Once I've secured the target, send the team to rendezvous at my current coordinates for the extraction of the package."

The plan is simple. Get in, get out, quick and quiet. If the turian interferes, he'll have no qualms about neutralizing the threat. Besides, he'll be doing this entire operation a favor by taking that damned turian out of the picture. If it wasn't because of him repeatedly giving them the slip, they would've secured the kid a long time ago.

"Copy that. Wilkins out."

The line goes dead. The man shuts off his communications display, reaches for the M-65 Naginata sniper rifle propped against the passenger seat and extends its scope, barrel and stock. He cradles the weapon in his lap as he returns his gaze onto the unassuming house.

I've been waiting years for you to show up again. What's the harm in waiting just a little longer?

A/N: If it's much too short, I apologize but I can promise you that future chapters will be a lot longer so bear with me here, okay? XD

As much as writing this a great exercise in creative writing, I also want to do the Mass Effect universe justice. So, I really look forward to feedback on how I'm doing so far. Also, suggestions and ideas would be gladly appreciated though I can't promise that I can work all of them into my story. Hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned for the next chapter! I hope to update this on a weekly basis if college doesn't get too hectic.