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(Not much point in counting the votes, is there? ;) Here's a snippet, early.)

Deus Ex Human Revolution is the property of Eidos/Square Enix

Mass Effect is the property of Bioware and Electronic Arts

Mass Effect: Human Revolution:

Chapter 52: In Sheep's Clothing, part 7

~[h+]~

There was really no way Captain Simmons could stay polite in the face of this, though it wasn't for lack of trying. "What the FUCK is this?!" he snarled.

"...It is what it is," replied Anderson. The Alliance officer could empathize with Simmons' anger, as he himself had been rewarded for his decades of service by becoming little more than a desk jockey. He may still have his rank, but being assigned to Logistics was hardly a promotion Besides him, Brooks, the office mouse that he had been assigned, seemed to wilt under Simmons' glare.

"Are you telling me," Simmons growled, "that the United States government just handed this ship — crew included — over to a bunch of glorified coast guards?!"

Anderson let the insult slide with a calm sigh. "Pretty much. I will oversee the transition of the Durendal and its crew into the Alliance Navy's service. If you have any more questions..."

Simmons tossed the datapad — with the words ARES ACCORD highlighted in red — back to Brooks, who fumbled with it almost comically a bit before getting a firm grip on it, and then he promptly walked out of the bridge without taking his leave. Anderson had every right to have the man put in the brig for that affront, but chose not to: he wasn't about to make this any worse for anyone.

~[h+]~

Frost and his Spectre minder, Tigris, were walking through one of the Durendal's corridor, headed to the CIC. Frost was intent on getting some answers to some questions. Questions such as 'why were Alliance goons were walking around as if they owned the place?' and 'Why are they combing the place like a bunch of cops looking for contraband?'

"Wow, you humans sure do fight dirty amongst yourselves," said the Asari Spectre.

"Yeah, it's kind of our hat," agreed Frost.

Tigris didn't quite get Frost's meaning. "...I'm sorry?"

"Nevermind that — HEY SIMMONS!" Frost jogged right besides Captain Simmons and matched his pace. Tigris, meanwhile kept a respectable distance away from both men. "How come Allie's moving in?"

"Ares Accord," said Simmons, ruefully.

"No shit? Does that I'll be—"

"No, the paperwork applies to Navy and Marines. Alliance isn't interested in the Army."

"Well, shit, my feeling's are hurt now," said Frost, with mock sadness.

"As for me, I plan on taking this up with Commodore Ross — the Admiralty, if I have to... something about this isn't right."

"How so? Sounds like regular political bullshit to me."

"No," said Simmons as he walked up the elevator doors and pressed the nearby hologram. "The paperwork for that kind requisition takes a lot of time to process. Someone fast tracked this."

"That, or they set this whole thing up before hand." As Frost said this, the elevator doors slid open, and Simmons stepped through.

"...I refuse to believe that," said Simmons. "Do me a favour, when you become a Spectre..."

Frost grinned. "I'll be sure to take the Normandy out for a spin." He was a little disappointed when that failed to get a smile out of sailor, as it the doors hissed closed and the whirr of the linear motors became more distant.

"So, now what?" said Tigris.

"Now, I get what I came here for," replied Frost.