Author's Notes:

Hello everyone! Thanks for visiting my story! I'm just here to tell you a little bit about what Affinity stories as a whole are about.

This story focuses around several of my Mass Effect 3 Multiplayer Characters—before, during, and after the Reaper War. That being said, it is a strong focus on OCs. But, don't get too complacent! I might just sneak some canon characters in once and a while! The story itself is non-linear, meaning that I write most of the characters as they come to my head. This could be smaller scenes or full one-shots!

It will be a good story just to follow and learn about my aspect of the different races!

With that said, criticism is always welcome! I hope that you enjoy.

Updated: This file has been updated for better view pleasure as well as getting rid of some minor grammatical errors!

If you ever want to play with me, just send me a friend request at my Xbox account:
x Rypht x

If I don't jump into your party immediately, I may be busy. But, I will play with you and even talk on the mic. Just don't don't expect Platinum Difficulties out of me (I can do Gold, but barely. XD)

If you play PC or PS3, let me know as well. :) I will make the effort to procure a copy for each of those consoles as well just to play with you guys.

Episode One: Sayaek: Reverie

This was his happy face. It couldn't be seen from underneath his constant scowl or his rigid mannerisms, but Sayaek was actually in a rather pleasant mood.

He had arrived on Illium just a few hours before. He could remember the odd glances that he received upon stepping off of his vessel. An asari greeted him. Though she held the pleasantness of her job well, he saw right through her like well-cleaned window. She didn't enjoy his presence. In the first few seconds, she had made several assumptions about him—most were justified. On a simple glance, he would appeared like an ordinary merc; slightly broken and chipped armor, long scars across his face down to his lips, the cold fires in his eyes. But what yielded the most assumptions was one word: batarian. He was a batarian.

Sayaek remembered pushing thoughts from his mind as he watched this woman explain the laws of Illium in great detail. He was more than sure that no one else would have received such a thorough explanation. But he kept his cool. She was doing her job, perhaps a little too seriously. It wasn't until a half galactic hour later that he went on explaining his reasons on being here. The look on her face was priceless. She backed away with her drones, pale-faced and embarrassed.

"Good times," Sayaek said to no one in particular, aside from maybe his mug of beer.

Taking another draft of the beer, he glanced over his data pad. There were several names on his list that his contact had given him. A few he recognized from previous encounters. It was a shame that people tend to make the same mistakes. This volus was one of those people. Pitne For had a habit of getting in trouble far too many times. This time, the man couldn't keep his stubby fingers off of batarian imports. Not the illegal merchandise, he could keep those—they would make perfect evidence to slam him behind irons….or get him a bullet the head.

But he had made some deals with other races to ship batarian merchandise away. They were vital items that could help their already dying economic state. That he couldn't stand by and watch.

Sayaek was one of the only Judges left in their space. Though not half as rigid or as cold as asari justicar, Judges were probably just as rare. It wasn't because their training was hard. Nor was it that they must possess some high level of intelligence or skills (though that often helped on field).it was because batarians tend to avoid legality. Most people his age were with the Blues Suns, red sand dealers, or small-town smuggler. The Pillars of Strength taught him to be something different, more than just a thug.

He drained the rest of his beer. For a human beverage, it tasted pretty well made. It was hard to accept at first but, humans could make drinks and food, just one of their many talents. He only wished that he could say the same of his race. "Damn fools," he said, shaking off the stiffness of his body. He had a feeling that he was going to be using that word a lot today.

After paying the tab, Sayaek exited the bar. Force of habit made him exit covertly. It was practice. Years of practice learning how to make use of the slender anatomy that most forgo for bulk. In the words of the prophets; move quietly because you may not know what information you may pick up. It had served him right. You may miss some vital information because of the stomping of your boots. On the flip side, you are much harder to follow when everything you do moves like silk.

It took him a while to get back outside. The throng of people, businessmen and women of all races frantically shuffled through the cramped hallways. Finally, after slipping by a fairly slow human, he stood outside at the market district.

Asari knew how to dress up a planet. This was his second visit here, and he was still amazed. Buildings were tall; seemingly touching the skin of the sun-blazed sky. Lights of all different colors blinked for the skyscrapers. Taxis and transport vehicles soared above in blurs of color. Even with four eyes, it was hard to soak in everything that was going on. However, stupid volus don't bust themselves. He needed information.

He had heard rumors. This smuggling ring often resold their merchandise through various outlets. It was mostly dealing with weapons and mods. So, an outlet that sold both would be the mostly likely to find a link to the culprit, a link to For. There was only one that he could think of that would fit that description on this world.

He approached a small market kiosk known as Gateway Personal Defense in silent footsteps. It was small enough, with no customers currently purchasing anything. A rather bored looking asari stood beside it, leaning against the wall. "Miss…" Sayaek began, subsequently receiving a deathly stare. This is why he wasn't nice to people. They often retaliated with the opposite emotion.

"If you need assistance for becoming a Blue Suns, Eclipse, or any other mercenary group, I'm not the person to talk to. I just sell weapons."

It took all the power that he could muster not to walk over there and punch that pretty face off. He took in a jagged breath. "I'm not here…to join the Blue Suns..." She began to talk, only to be stopped by a raise of his hand. "And I already have a weapon." He tapped the M-5 Phalanx on his hip and his Revenant on his back. "One thing I don't have is information."

The asari woman sighed as she pushed herself off the wall. "What could you want? Looking for some humans to beat up?"

"Actually," Sayaek interrupted, "I'll looking for a volus to beat up. I thought you might help me with that."

She rolled her eyes. "So you are a free-lance then."

"I will enjoy that you drop of that pretentious attitude for a second," the batarian growled, causing the woman to snap up in attention. "I'm undercover and I would long prefer that you keep your mouth shut."

"So you are cop?" The surprise in her voice sounded like he just admitted that he was a father of a thresher maw.

"In essence yes and no," he said, slowly letting the taste of such a revelation melt in her mouth. "But that's beyond the point. I'm looking for Pitne For. My contacts tend to believe that your company may know something about them." He paused for a second to let the sales associate gather the information. "I'm hoping that you aren't involved considering you are just a worker here."

A cold moment burrowed its way into their conversation. Yes. He already knew who she was. She was one of the people on the smuggling ring list: Forae Tilan. He gave a tooth grin, one that only an experienced batarian could wield as a weapon. He was giving her a chance. A chance. Not three, not two, just one chance to redeem herself. He could easily ease the charges on some cooperation. He was flexible and open. But that wasn't going to be taken for weakness. If he deemed it, he would crush her underneath his heel.

Sayaek was still a ruthless man at heart, agreeable demeanor or not. Maintaining eye contact as he said, "Tell me where this man is." Fear tactics was something that he didn't mind using. Respect and fear were brothers in the psyche.

"He's…probably at the warehouse," she kept herself low. Sayaek rubbed his chin thoughtfully. She could be lying and it was time to check.

"Let's say he is at the warehouse…" he began. He fiddled with the end handle of the Phalanx, grin never fading. "Will I expect some…resistance there?" A small fidget of her shoulders was all he needed to know that it was true. Those were all the answers he needed, but he was still going to grill her. He wanted to see how deep her shovel will go for her own grave.

"Probably not," Forae spat out, followed by the worse poker face ever.

And there was it. She just lied to a professional, thus revoking his previous thought to ease her charge for cooperation. Besides, he wasn't going to give it to her anyway. She was scum. Just like Mr. For. He would just have to call some authorities to pick her up while he is on the way to the warehouse. It sounded easy enough. They were violating all sorts of trade laws; his organization just took it personally.

"Give me the coordinates, and I'll be on my way."

"No arrest..." It was a sluggish request that reached her dull blue eyes in hope.

"No arrest from me, I promise."

Forae gave a large sigh as she brought up her omnitool. With a few clicks, she brought up the location for the judge, who took it was a crisp nod.

Too bad she didn't listen that it wasn't going to be him doing the arrest. Anyone else was fair game. Clever wording has defeated a lot of people. "Thanks for your assistance. I have a ring to bust." As much as he wanted to add, and see you in jail, he just walked away. It would be much more interesting for her to see the authorities of Illium wheeling around the corner.

Blue Suns were everywhere.

He had grown to hate the mercenary group. It had become an outlet for so many of his races to lose their way that he had the very name left a bitter sting on his tongue. They were not all to blame. The caste system they lived in tore lives asunder. Very few batarians could not escape such walls. He was lucky. He was born of a prophet, a higher rank within the people. But that hardly meant anything He would give up all he had to change the way the system had grown.

It wasn't something he should think about now. It tended to wrap his thoughts in anger. Anger couldn't move quietly as calm. Sayaek was careful with his footsteps. His vision was top notch. He could see every corner, every flickering detail of the world despite the shadows. Though a great combat specialist, he preferred to avoid large fights.

With an unexpected amount of grace, he shifted from one point to another seamlessly. Cover to cover, shadow to shadow. It could have been mistaken for an infiltrator. A part of him grinned inside, they had it easy. They had tactical cloaks—a device that he had to learn without.

From the corner of the box that he was crouching behind, he saw them. There were two Suns; both thickly set batarians equipped with powerful looking assault rifles and heavy armor. From this distance, his bullet will just ricochet off the kinetic shields. He could probably kill one by stripping down his shield. But it will be too loud—the other would probably run off.

But…there was one that could probably kill both of them. Admittedly, it was one of his favorite tools to use. He pointed his fist in the direction of the men. "Higher….higher…" he noted mentally. With a flick of his wrist, the omnitool materialized in the shape of long-three pronged launcher. With a satisfying clunk, the weapon fired sending a stream of blades hurtling through the air impaling both of the men in the head simultaneously. Ballistic blades, they called them. When aimed correctly, shields and barriers were as much protection as a piece of paper.

Sayaek exited the shadows to inspect the bodies. He fumbled through the slips in their armor to successfully find himself a key card. He dragged the nearest body closer the scanner, pressing the man's thumb against lock followed by a quick slide of the card. He kept the body upward for protection; the man's shield was still useful. Besides, the light was behind him making the mercenary appear in a silhouette alone, even if it was just for a brief second. The door slid open.

"Jorn, Forgor…" the man paused to huff out the sound of his suit. It was Pitne For. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking in boss," Sayaek mimicked. Not many could hear differences in voices if they weren't looking for it. This was especially the case with hired muscle.

"Then," Pitne huffed again, "what are you doing? Get back, to work."

Sayaek looked over the body for nothing less than a second to scope the surroundings. He saw that Pitne For was surrounded backed by four mercs counting inventory. Perfect. He removed a grenade from his side. "Sorry, I can't get back to work right now." With a blinding fast toss, he sent the inferno grenade flying through the air, exploding on contact.

Panic swept throughout the room as the remaining Suns struggled to figure out what was going on. With no appropriate answer, they fired. The shields of the corpse and the actual body itself took majority of the rounds. When they were equally depleted, Sayaek dropped the body, grabbed his rifle, and returned fire. The battle was swift. What the flames didn't consume, the Revenant did. Before long, ashes and blood smeared the ground.

Pitne sat shaking in the corner of the warehouse. His stubbing legs knocking together as his batarian assailant approached. This man just killed so many men, so quickly. Blood from the meat shield he had to use stained his grey armor and two-toned brown and red skin. Yet, he kept an unsettling calm despite the gore. Yes, he looked anger…but they all looked angry. He swallowed deeply before saying, "Who are you?"

"Sayaek In'dan, Batarian Judge, and you are in violation of a trade agreement."

Pinte stared from the small goggles of his suit. "What are you talking about trade agreements?"

"You thought Batarians were lawless," Sayaek finished. "These armaments and equipment are property of our government."

"Are you suggesting, that I'm thieving, from you…" Pitne For's breathing felt like it was shredding his lungs; making even the normal huff sound normal in comparison.

"I'm not suggesting. I know. There have been several crates of missing merchandise in this section for years. We have tried to turn a blind eye to it, but the businessmen of our higher society are starting to get irritated by the unseeingly amount of disrespect. I was dispatched to look into the investigation. Let's say, I don't leave my home system."

"What if I told you that I wasn't acting alone?"

Sayaek tilted his head to the right. It was disgusting how quickly people will just give up information if their life was threatened…or if they can use it as some bargaining chip. "What information do you have? I'm not going all over galaxy for no apparent reason."

"It was. One of your. People." The breaks in For's voice was getting much shorter as nerves swelled up. "He was making the deal. He was getting profits from the Red Sand and the weapons."

"All four of Sayaek's eyes squinted in anger. He had a good idea who was involved in this nonsense. "Let me guess. It was a higher man with a crazy look in all four of his eyes. Looked important, always growling about humans taking up our space in the Verge."

"Generally…" the volus paused. "Yes."

"Balak…" Sayaek said to himself, followed by a stream of curse in his language. "You are coming with me. You are involved in this nonsense as much as he is."

"But I just helped you!"

The best thing with having four eyes is that they made the intensity of rolling one's eyes a lot better. "I never agreed to that. You gave the information on your own free will. Besides, I'm not corrupted like most people that you have met in your pathetic criminal life. Now let's go before I decide to rip your small head from your shoulders."

With nothing more to say, the conversation was over. Sayaek grabbed the rounded man and slung him over his shoulder. He had a call to make. "This is exactly why we can't get along with other races now," he grumbled ignoring the constant wailing of his prisoner.


Batarian Judges

Judges are a full combat specialist of born of a higher caste in the batarian society. Usually they are born of prophets and priest, thus connected with the Pillars of Strength on a deeper level. This is unlike the Justicar's Code, however, since the Pillars of Strength are teachings rather than specific rules. Many judges interpret them in many ways, thus giving a large amount of flexibility on the written laws.

They are responsible for several different duties within the jurisdiction of their colonies and their home planet. Once every galaxy week, they hold a hearing to iron out larger problems on Khar'shan. However, unlike the judicial system on Earth, Judges can leave to gather their own evidence on their specific cases. If one should do this, they are responsible for sharing any and all information to the rest of their order.

In battle, they serve to be a mixture of covert operations and weapon-master. Lightly armored, they are meant for long battles on their own—instead favors sneak attacks and powerful burst of aggression to win battles quickly. Many prefers the usage of assault rifles and heavy pistols but aren't limited to just those specific weapons. The key to their battle however lies in the use of their specially crafted "ballistic blades"; allowing to kill with the swiftness of a shotgun without the ammo or the added weight.