I remember the words of the Matriarch I served with. There were many wise matrons and peers to listen to then. I paid attention when I wanted; however, the Matriarch, my own mother, knew what really caught my fancy. I was always searching the night sky, knowing that beyond them were adventures far beyond my imagination. I did not stick around a second longer than I needed to. When I traveled on my first mass relay I had little clue what I was going to do. I did know; however, that I wanted to travel them all...

Among my people, I was never that significant. I was just like every other soldier. Enlisted in the mandatory service at age fifteen. Rose the ranks at a reasonable pace and did what I had to do. I had no clue that some of the people I would meet would be more than just comrades and commanders. Sure, I knew I would meet a few people who would be close. I just never realized how long they would stick around in my worse firefights...

When I was younger I was so fascinated with everything, the land, mountains, trees, streams, rivers, my own kind and perhaps even that which transcends us all. Sooner or later, I had to look up at the night sky and realized that it too had to be crossed and explored. My mother and father raised me well. Perhaps I never had a reason to question who I was, it was just a matter of what I would do. I looked to the heavens, and wondered what that exact thing was. I always knew, in the starry lights that lit the twilight, that no matter what it was, it would be somewhere up there...

I don't remember much from my younger days. All I knew was that where I was born and raised, it was far from home. Journey after journey, it never ended. Life has been one long trip for me. You know how you meet interesting people every time you take a long trip? I've been doing that all my life. The problem is that you start to wonder about a place called "home." You also start to wonder about these people called "family." I always wondered when I would find home, and finally meet this "family." I would look around all the time, see the vast darkness, the countless glowing lights around me and I could not help but cry at times because in such a big, dark galaxy, I was all alone...

It was like any other day at the manufacturing and research facility. The robotic machines relentlessly pounded out and fabricated the materials before them, hammering together the parts they were programmed to do. A handful of technicians, mostly humans and Salarians, oversaw the controls. Posted in various intervals along the length of the plant were armed guards, hired mercenaries to stand watch over the facility. Normally, the company would not worry about hiring them, but there were close to the danger of the Terminus System. Considering the distance, mercenaries would be considered a good investment for the general safety of the facility. Although they were still in the safety of Council Space, the closer one got to the Terminus system, the closer dance they played on a razor's edge. Compared to the Council Space, the Terminus system was a chaotic entity. The only thing that would unite the Terminus was a perceived invasion by Council forces, something that the Council always tried to avoid, even to the point of appeasement. In this case, it usually meant letting a few raids by Terminus space go unresisted. Established bases that got hit were on their own.

Because of this policy of open appeasement, this particular manufacturing and research facility was soon obliterated. The day may have started like any other, but out of nowhere, explosions ripped through the walls of the facility, armed pirates or mercenaries, it did not matter which, stormed into the building. Few technicians were able to escape with their lives while the hired guards were quickly cut down by gunfire. Typical pirates preferred special chemical rounds that rapidly liquidated a body upon death, the carcasses dissolving into a vile green mess that quietly evaporated away.

In the aftermath of the carnage, the attackers looted what they wanted and simply left. Around them, a human gave orders, the obvious leader of the group. He directed his minions with an iron fist, both metaphorical and literal. His right hand and arm was a large, bionic prosthetic, a robotic extension of his body. A single scanner was latched over his left eye, as that too was long gone. Simply put, the large man's build was made half of muscle, half of machine. He coolly directed his lieutenants under him.

"Secure the crates. Make sure there are no survivors hiding. Move this stuff quickly, we got to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Yes, captain." they yelled in unison before going off to follow their orders. The mercenary leader scanned the carnage around him when his comm link suddenly alerted him. He activated the message.

"Captain Methalos...I get the impression you have made your first raid." a voice spoke.

"You are correct." Captain Methalos grunted.

"Were you able to get into the archives and find the package?" his correspondent asked.

"Not in this plant yet. We'll look into the next one we hit."

"I see...very well...just be thorough, captain." the voice said before the comm link went out. Methalos growled under his breath.

"Like I care how soon he gets what he wants."

Mass Effect