"Shepard, we've made it to the junction," Lann's voice came through the comms. "No sign of merch."

"I'm not surprised," Shepard replied, shouting over the chaos of the firefight. He didn't move from his spot, a solid bit of cover behind a metallic barrier on the side of the path. "They're all here!"

The drakat were dug in pretty good around the anti-aircraft battery, but even then, they were facing a never ending barrage of merch. The synthetics were throwing themselves with complete abandon at the anti-aircraft batteries, and were being mowed down by the heavy weapons that were guarding them.

It wasn't a perfect setup, but Shepard had to give it to them: the drakat did know how to craft a solid defensive position. The three anti-aircraft batteries were lined up so that their defenses could also give each other cover, and the access was not particularly easy for the merch. Best of all, it was set up so that the walkers weren't able to readily access the fortified positions.

They were well placed, but they were trapped. No flexibility. It was made with a siege mentality, and that was the weakness. If the merch ever tried something different, they would be in a world of trouble. They had no room to react, to do anything different.

Shepard was going to be the one to go off the script and do something new.

Story of my life, he thought, chuckling darkly.

For now, they were flanking the merch attacking the more central battery, trying to drive a wedge right through the middle of the ranks of synthetics.

Divide and conquer.

"We have found more survivors," Lann continued over the radio. Shepard continued shooting, his assault rifle spitting shavings off the ammo block at a regular three-round interval, but didn't miss the dark turn in Lann's voice.

"How bad?"

"Less than two handfuls, mostly chicks and children. Only one adult." He paused significantly. "It was a massacre."

"No wounded again?"

"No wounded. Dead or... left behind."

Shepard stopped talking for a few seconds to better aim at an approaching merch. It looked like a modified basic unit, but he had stopped thinking of a modified unit as something unique. The merch were constantly changing themselves, or rather, changing every new generation they constructed. It made fighting them an exercise in unpredictability. Whenever a new, different unit appeared, they had to brace for impact.

The particular one Shepard was aiming at was a pain in the butt. It was small, fast, and with a wide leg base and low centre of gravity, it looked designed to dart around over the rubble and get the drop on enemy troops.

Luckily, the small frame and light weight meant it didn't carry much in terms of shielding. After a third burst, a round from his assault rifle broke through and clipped the merch's leg, which was enough to slow it down and let Shepard seal the deal with a final burst.

He dug back into cover as his assault rifle hissed, venting heat.

"This doesn't add up, Lann. They have to be planning something for them to leave behind survivors like that."

"I agree."

"Are you sending them back?"

"Of course!" Lann's reply came through with real vehemence behind it.

"Then make sure Ga'lee knows. They better keep an eye on them."

"… very well."

Shepard closed the comms and went back at it. The merch were closing ranks and making a new push towards the battery, while, once again, leaving a small number of units behind to cover their backs.

It wasn't a bad strategy, if one didn't mind casualties. Once they broke into the fortified position, they'd have nothing to worry about from their backs.

"Incoming!"

He was down before his top level thought subroutines had processed the input. A whistle passed overhead, and almost instantly there was an explosion coming from the direction of the anti-aircraft battery. Shepard shot to his feet and looked at the damage. A hole had been blown through the barricade, and now it was acting as a funnel for the merch troops. They were all heading for the opening, while the defenders were mustering behind with all they had.

Shepard was impressed with how disciplined the drakat were. They had fallen back and moved to cover the damage without even stopping to ask what had happened.

"What the hell happened?" Shepard shouted.

The drakat around him looked as stunned as he was surprised, but one voice did rise above the chaos, the same one that had called the attack.

"Behind us! Another walker!" the drakat shouted.

Shepard scrambled back towards a new piece of cover and looked in the direction the soldier had pointed. There was a walker coming. A shorter one, armed with a heavy cannon instead of an automatic gun, and lumbering along precariously on what seemed to be a trio of hastily shortened legs.

If the merch did one thing right, it was that they worked fast. Unfortunately for them.

Without any more preamble, Shepard swapped his assault rifle for his sniper, and unfolded it. He took aim at the walker, and shot a quick double-tap at one of its legs. The merch walker wobbled and tumbled, but it didn't fall.

"Well, damn," he muttered. That didn't jive with the report C'ie had given him before they left. They had improved again.

"It's firing again!"

Shepard ducked under cover as the cannon started powering up, and rushed forward while a heavy calibre bullet rushed over him. He heard the sound of the ordinance hitting concrete and metal, and the scream from those who found themselves in the way of that gun.

Damn thing is going to tear my team apart!

He popped out of cover just as another shot was fired, already aiming, and pressed the trigger as soon as his sights fell on the merch walker. The leg he was aiming for bobbed and weaved, but even as his sniper rifle overheated, the last bullet managed to make a dent. Not enough to stop it, but enough that the cannon swung wildly, forcing the AI to stop shooting.

"I need heavy weapons at the back, now!" he shouted at the comms.

One thing he would have liked, it would have been to simply sit and wait for a response. But the downside of having a penchant for getting to the front line of trouble faster than anyone else was drawing the attention of every single enemy in range of their weapons.

He only took a fraction of a second for a quick systems check. A few servos damaged, bullets making their way to what could pass for his synthetic muscles. But there was nothing his body couldn't compensate for.

For now, he had to run.

Lann closed the comms. It was always unsettling for him to do so while his people on the other end were in the middle of battle. He always felt like he was abandoning them. But he had his job, and it wasn't any easier than what Shepard himself was doing.

He turned to look at the survivors, if they could be called that. For now, he had to get the drakat on their way, which was not going to be easy either. Most of the children looked like ghosts, barely responding to his words or those of the old drakat. The only adult. He wasn't in great shape either, Lann had found him muttering to himself, asking why he had been spared over and over in a low voice, all while his eyes were glued to the fallen corpse of a younger male. His son, as he found later.

"We have to move," Lann said, his voice terse. The old man looked up, but didn't move from the spot.

"What did Shepard say?" Dho'klee said, coming to join him.

"He's got his own problems," Lann replied.

The less he gave the scientist to worry about, the better. He looked shaken enough by what they had found, and in truth, he could barely blame him. For some reason, finding the few broken down survivors left behind by the merch was even more unsettling than the complete destruction they had so far unleashed. Dark as it was to think that the merch were nothing but a merciless race of killing machines, it was slightly more palatable to see machine-like efficiency than a somewhat more life-like cruelty.

"What now?" Dho'klee insisted.

"We move on." He turned to look at the old drakat. "You have to lead these children and get to safety."

"There is no safety," the old man said, not even looking up.

"Yeah, we're working on that," Lann replied, putting his hand on the grandpa's shoulder. "In the meantime, these children need you, now. Take them through the tunnel on the sixth corner, it's clear and it'll leave you by the square. The troops there are waiting for you."

It took a few seconds, but the old man finally looked up at Lann, and chuckled once, darkly, with no humor behind it.

"Never thought I'd see the day, when I'd see my house burn, and an ar'alee to come to our aid."

"These are strange times," Lann replied, a lopsided smirk on his face. "Come on, we have a mission too. Make sure you stay out of view."

Lann stood, checked his weapons, and made a gesture for Dho'klee to follow. Legion was waiting for them outside, and by the looks of it, he hadn't moved one inch. Shepard's companion was a weird one. Unlike the human AI, the geth rarely gave the impression of being alive. No, of being organic. But in an odd way, he had his moments.

"Any news?"

"Merch troop movements adhere to previous parameters," Legion replied.

"Then the plan is the same. Let's go, we're almost there."

He led the party away, keeping an eye on the HUD as they made their way through the streets. None of the main building columns had fallen, but the peripheral constructions had suffered tremendously. Precious few were still standing. Fortunately, the transport ways were still mostly open. Narrow alleyways running right beneath ground level, still open most of the time. Good improvised trenches, although it really wasn't their primary purpose.

Regardless, he wasn't about to complain. It was a good way to move unseen.

Mostly.

"Down," he whispered to the comms. "Walker northeast."

Dho'klee followed the instructions to the letter, and dropped quickly against the wall. Lann himself followed close. Legion... That was a different story.

He watched as the geth seemingly powered down, and dropped down to his knees, like a paper wingdoll that lost its strings. From afar, it must have looked like just an odd piece of scrap metal. Which worried him a bit, specially if the merch decided that was a great piece of metal to scavenge. But he was just too damn big to be able to hide.

The steps of the walker kept getting closer, louder. Dho'klee stirred, but Lann didn't move at all. Fidgeting wouldn't solve anything. He kept his ears sharp, listening. Louder. Louder. Then the sound seemed to peak, and slowly, they started to move away.

"That was close," Dho'klee whispered.

"No, close will be when we walk right under their legs," Lann replied.

Dho'klee chuckled, but his laughter was short lived. "Wait, you're joking, aren't you?"

"We're about to break into the main merch comms building, what do you think?"

He really shouldn't have enjoyed the look on Dho'klee's face as much as he did. At least it kept him quiet the rest of the way.

Their destination was easy enough to find. The merch had built, as per usual, a very shabby and hastily erected perimeter to protect their equipment, which had been set along the main central column of one of the taller buildings. For machines, Lann thought, they showed a remarkable lack of order in their constructions. Their pragmatism was quite extraordinary. And he knew that whatever they built always worked. And worked well.

So despite the fact that the place looked like it was ready to fall apart, with more than a dozen places where he saw they could have potentially slipped in with no problem, he remained cautious. He knew better.

"Legion, what do you have?"

"Updating threat radar," Legion replied. Red markers appeared all over the HUD, and to Lann's complete lack of surprise, they were all over the weak points of the walls.

"Great. We need a diversion."

"Acknowledged."

"What do you mean acknowledged?" Lann replied.

Legion ignored him, and strode off back the way they had come. Lann and Dho'klee looked at each other, until the drakat gave a sideways nod.

"The commander said Legion could intercept some of the signals."

"Yes, that's what I meant. Where is he going?"

"Feather brain moment?" Dho'klee offered.

"Legion?"

"Short circuit then?"

"Huh."

It took several minutes for Legion to return, while they stayed put and kept an eye for the merch. For what they could see, they stuck to their guard positions with mechanical precision, which left every angle covered. In the meantime, they had time to survey the outside well enough, and look at the structure sticking out. There were at least two large parabolic antennas pointed shywards, an odd piece of antiquated technology that the merch seemed to favour. Those had to be the links to the fleet. And then there was the unmistakable shape of an FTL comms antenna. That was highest of all.

The structure of the tubing and cables coming down, however, was a mess. There were several spots where a junction could be located, but from the outside, they couldn't tell.

"Where were you?" Lann prodded the geth. He then saw that he was trailing a cable, of all things. "What's that?"

"We are prepared for signal interception," Legion replied.

"But-" Lann looked at the cable, and changed his mind on what he was about to say. "You've been taking notes from Bo, haven't you?"

"We have concluded Honbarg-Bo's definition of surprise has maximum effect on organic team members."

"He's really not the one you should be taking notes from, Legion," Lann replied, not able to suppress a smirk. He then checked his rifle, and cradled it against his shoulder, pointing down. "Whenever you're ready."

Legion nodded, and without any more fanfare, his face flaps started twitching as he did... something. It really wasn't very dramatic, or very obvious for the matter. So they all waited. After a few very, very long seconds, the red markings on his HUD started moving. He made a gesture for Dho'klee to stay put as he felt him twitch, and watched. Most of the merch seemed to be moving back and forth almost on the spot, but it wasn't long before the majority of them started to migrate, in two different directions. Only a few scattered markers remained.

"Great, how long-"

"Estimated two minutes until discovery," Legion replied.

"Good, stay here and follow in thirty seconds," Lann said, and jumped over the edge of their cover, making for the wall.

If the radar was right, and there were no more lurking merch anywhere near, there were several gaps in the defensive perimeter now. He made for the second most obvious one, leaving the larger gap alone. When something was too easy or too obvious, it made him nervous.

Twenty seconds.

The downside of the HUD radar was the fact that it was two-dimensional. And he expected the sentinels to be high above. Once he got to the opening on the wall, he put his back to it, and took a deep breath. Now was the moment of truth, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had to look, and hope to all hell that the merch weren't looking his way.

He did a very quick lean in, and his eyes darted around, searching for the merch. He saw one far in the distance, and looked to be facing away. The second, closer one was-

Crap.

A jump back and he nearly lost his footing. The merch was right above, and there was a very good chance he'd been seen. He waited, but the dot didn't move from its spot on the HUD.

Ten seconds.

With a quick move, he hung the assault rifle on his back, and pulled the sniper rifle instead. It wasn't his best weapon, but it had a lot more punch, and with any luck, it'd be enough to avoid drawing unwanted attention.

Another deep breath, he secured the rifle on his shoulder, and prepared to shoot.

Five seconds.

With a swift and fluid move, he came out of cover, took aim, and did a double-tap. The merch twitched after the first shot, and went down on the second. Without even thinking about it, he rushed inside, finding the next piece of cover. He dug in, sniper rifle in hands, and listened, his eyes glued to the HUD.

No one stirred.

And go.

Exactly thirty seconds after he moved, Legion and Dho'klee followed. The large geth platform could be surprisingly fast, although rather noisily when he did run. It was definitely not built for stealth, which suited Lann just fine. He didn't have high hopes that the whole thing would end with one big shootout.

He swapped back to his assault rifle, and peered out to watch the rest of his team make their way in. Dho'klee hurried to drop next to him, while Legion stood by one of the pillars.

"Legion, you are not very stealthy," Lann said.

"Geth do not infiltrate," Legion replied pragmatically.

"You do today, or we're screwed." He stood up, keeping out of sight from the second merch. "Come on, this way."

They walked off towards the centre of the structure, looking for a good spot to access the hardlines. The place was a mess, making it really hard to find what they were looking for. And worst of all, they had to move carefully.

Come on, come on.

The twisted pathways seemed endless, like some sort of mystical labyrinth. Time stretched slowly, and every second, he expected the merch to come back running. Yet there was nothing, it was almost completely silent. They had to walk very carefully not to have their own footsteps echo through the entire space.

It was a lot more unnerving than he had expected. He almost wished the fight would break out already. All he could hear were the heavy steps of legion, and the softer pitter patter of Dho'klee's feet. On every turn, every dark corner, he expected the hammer to fall. But it didn't, they just kept going in silence, one step after the other.

"Stop," he whispered, raising his hand. His team complied immediately, and silence reigned once more. He pulled his sniper rifle, and peered through the scope. The single merch platform stood atop one of the walkways, immobile except for its slowly moving head.

"Has it seen us?" Dho'klee whispered.

"I'm not sure," Lann replied.

He considered the situation for a moment, risk detection by shooting, or by moving. But the truth was, they had to move faster, and they had to take risks.

A quick double-tap took the merch down again. They waited, but there didn't seem to be a reaction.

"Merch units appear unaware of our presence," Legion said.

"For now," Lann replied grimly. He looked around, trying to decide their next move. The dim light and whispered silence weighted on him like a tombstone. "Dho'klee, are you familiar with the legend of Ene'ee?"

"What?" the drakat replied, and paused to think when Lann looked at him. "I... don't think so?"

"He was a man lost in a labyrinth, looking for A'di's tears."

"Oh, right, it was supposed to cure all diseases. Found a blue slither to guide him, right?"

"Close," Lann said, eyeing the walkways above. "He saved a blue slither's from a furmar, and it told him that the centre of the labyrinth was a trap, not the location of the tears. It was a fountain in a corner of the labyrinth, embedded in completely boring and nondescript wall somewhere along the edge." He looked down at Dho'klee. "It was right there for the taking all along."

"You think this is the same?" Dho'klee said, following the direction Lann had been looking towards.

"Look around you. It's all twisted, difficult to move... Not very convenient for a comms centre, if you have to constantly come and go to access it."

"…I see your point."

"Come on, let's keep searching. We don't have much time."

He knew the time Legion had given them was either expired or quickly coming to an end, so they moved fast, caution not completely thrown to the wind, but left to hang in the breeze for a while. They veered away from the central pillar, looking for a more accessible spot that could give them access. Lann had to down a third merch, and saw red marks approaching through the edge of the HUD radar.

Dammit, we're out of time.

Lann stopped and pulled a pack from the back webbing of his suit. The demolition charges. He picked one, looking at the small brick intently. Concentrated destruction, and completely harmless unless activated. As it was, all they had time to do was set them and hope for the best.

"Lann! Over there!" Dho'klee called. He was pointing ahead, and nothing Lann could see indicated any of the structures-

"I see it!" Lann replied.

A junction, it had to be. Very discrete, but there was the unmistakeable glow of a low power holographic console, plus a whole array of cables that just happened to run though.

"I think it'll do!" Dho'klee replied, already bringing the console to life. He pulled a cover, and started messing with the internal cabling.

"You have to hurry, we're almost out of time!" Lann said. He swapped his sniper for the assault rifle, and took position behind the sturdiest cover he could find.

It was about to get real ugly.

El'e was not having a good day. Being in charge of her own ship had been, in some corner of her mind, a goal she hoped to fulfil sometime in the very nebulous future. She had gone through only one cull, not counting her graduation from the academy; there were literally thousands of officers just as qualified as she was.

Or unqualified, if she had to be more realistic. She was ten cycles too early to be in charge of a ship, and twenty to be in charge or a ship in the middle of a warzone during the largest engagement of the merch war to date.

She had no idea what she was doing. Shepard's orders-

The leader just up and left, didn't even left his second in charge!

The entire ground team was out now, with Laile shuttling the third team at that very moment. There were hundreds of merch ships out there, and the only reason they hadn't all come bearing on them was the planetary blockade which was landing more and more merch troops all across the planet.

The capital city was fighting fiercely. The rest of the planet, almost ten million drakat, were at the mercy of the merch.

It was a nightmare. And she couldn't wake up.

"We're coming about," Guni announced.

"Don't use the Thanix yet, just keep them off their tail for now," El'e replied.

Following her orders, the twins pushed the Normandy forward, bearing down on an enemy frigate and shaking it off course from the surviving Imperial cruiser. Her ship easily outmanoeuvred the merch, and a few shots from the main guns put a serious dent on its shields.

As per her instructions, the twins didn't fire the Thanix. That weapon terrified her. Every time it fired, she could almost feel the Normandy crying in pain. She had the feeling that if they abused it, they'd be sitting ducks in the middle of very unfriendly space.

It was ridiculous. They had possibly the most advanced frigate in the galaxy, and yet she had no confidence in it. It was Shepard's fault. She had heard no end of things that his Normandy could do better, including being able to fire two of those infernal guns at once.

"What's happening on the surface?" she said.

"Shepard is hammering the merch at the guns, and no news from Lann," Atal'ine replied.

"The merch reinforcements?"

"Still a few minutes out, they have time."

El'e nodded, and for want of space to pace, started kicking nervously on the spot.

"Shouldn't we be concentrating on the battle up here? They're big boys and girls, they can take care of themselves. Well, maybe not Sprockets, but..." Atal'ine said.

"Just keep an eye on them."

"Aye, leader."

She winced at that. Leader. What a leader she was, all she was doing was giving the twins as much wind as she could muster, and pray to A'di that the real leader made it back.

The Normandy banked sharply as they got in the path of a merch ship's weapons. She held on to the back of the leader chair to avoid faceplanting, and managed to regain her footing right before the impacts rocked the ship. Damage report was nothing to worry about, ten percent of shield strength.

They'd recover before long.

The Normandy banked sharply again, taking her by surprise, and throwing her off against the back of Atal'ine's seat.

"Damn!" he shouted. "Why don't you sit down on the leader's chair already?"

"It's not my chair," El'e grumbled. The Normandy was now giving chase to the merch ship, and the twins seemed rather intent on counting every feather on its ass before they shot it down. "Headswing!"

"What!" Nagi replied. "They started it!"

"Then finish it quickly!" El'e replied, irritated. She shot to her feet again, and looked at the tactical map. While they were on their merry chase, a trio of frigates had moved on the imperial cruiser. She marked the targets for the pilots. "We have to get back in there and cover the cruiser."

"Yes leader, sir!" Guni said. "Thanix?"

Sigh.

"Thanix," El'e replied.

She felt a slight push as the Normandy killed some of the momentum, letting the merch frigate get some distance. She knew what the twins were doing: lining up their target with a second ship. They kept saying it was a waste to take only a single target down with it.

"Headswings, we don't have time for this, take it down and turn around!"

Less than a second later the Thanix fired, and warnings popped up on several consoles along the CIC. That gun was going to be the death of her. A short moment later, and most of the alert went away, while the ship took a deep breath of relief, just as she did.

"Leader, I'm getting something off the relay!" Atal'ine shouted suddenly. El'e was right behind his seat even before he could open his mouth again. "It's lined up, something coming through!"

Her eyes darted back to the tactical map, waiting for the update from the buoys. Whatever was coming through was big.

"It's too early for the fleet," El'e said.

"It can't be more merch... can it?"

El'e didn't answer. She had had the same thought, and it really wasn't what she wanted to think about. They wouldn't have to wait long, but the fact that the relay had to charge up meant it was something big coming through.

The relay marker flashed on the map as the ships entered the system, and soon the onboard VI was busy processing the signal.

"Imperial ships," El'e said.

"Yes," Atal'ine replied, not at all sounding enthusiastic about the prospect. "There's... That's a dreadnought class, the Kha'le!"

"Is it in our databanks?" El'e inquired, looking at the central console.

"Yes, I have it here," the tactical technician replied from behind her. He moved his hands over the controls of his terminal, and the information popped out on the central console.

"Kha'le, dreadnought class, built... that just seven cycles ago?"

"One of the newest," Atal'ine agreed.

"What else is coming through?" El'e said.

"Nothing," Atal'ine replied, turning to point at the map. "That's all they brought."

"WHAT?!" El'e swiped over the map, zooming into the relay. The Kha'le had assumed vanguard position, and there were ten other ships with it. One cruiser. Nine frigates. That was all.

This can't be happening.

The twins had finally lined up the other merch ships, and moved to engage with them, pulling them quickly off the cruiser. Their ship was having that effect, drawing all kinds of attention whenever they got close to the enemy. The thanix, however, was quite a deterrent. After knocking their third cruiser down, the merch were not risking engaging with any of the bigger ships.

So far.

They had several destroyers out there, not much bigger than the cruisers, but armed to the teeth. And they had a dreadnought too, which worried her. It had kept its distance, but she wasn't too sure who was lucky. The twins had loudly expressed her disappointment at not being able to go after it, claiming they could take it. With a windcursed frigate. El'e wasn't so sure, thanix or not.

A barrage rocked the Normandy, and the ship veered sharply, rocking the inside beyond the capacity of the inertial dampeners. El'e didn't move from the spot, she was holding firmly onto the central console, looking at the map. The merch fleet was moving, markers from all over the planet were finally breaking formation, heading out in an intercept course. Straight for the Imperial fleet.

"They're going to be torn to shreds," El'e said.

Atal'ine followed her statement, his hands flying over his terminal. "I'm opening a channel to the-"

"No!" she snapped. "Let the defense fleet handle that, don't let them know who we are."

"But-"

"That's an order," she interrupted.

"… yes, leader."

El'e let that slide and kept her eyes on the fleet. The merch had formed ranks and were advancing in formation, and the Imperial fleet had dropped out of FTL approximately two hundred thousand kilometres from them. The merch numbered exactly one hundred ships; frigates, cruisers, five destroyers... and the dreadnought.

"Have we identified the merch dreadnought yet?" El'e said.

"It's not transmitting anything we can identify, and there are no markings," Atal'ine replied.

"Imperial or Federation?"

"Old enough that we can't tell."

El'e shook her head. That was a problem. The accursed war had gone on for so long that untold amounts of military assets had been recovered and re-purposed by both sides. Dreadnoughts, specially, were rarely wasted, no matter how badly damaged. Some of the older ones had changed their feathers so many times it would take an archaeologist to dig down to their original identities.

They were quickly approaching to weapons range, and the Kha'le was the ship at the front of the Imperial fleet. No buffer, no guards, nothing. The rest of the ships hung out in a wide formation far behind it. It didn't make sense; the Kha'le had the longest range, the most destructive power. Why put it at the front, put it in such risky position?

"I'm picking up something," Atal'ine said. "Transmission from... The Kha'le."

"What are they saying?"

"I'm not sure... I'm trying to- Argh!" Atal'ine pulled the headset off, wincing. Loud white noise was blaring through the earpiece. "What in A'di's name is that?"

El'e turned back to the map, and her instincts immediately set alarm bells inside her head. Something was wrong. The markers were all showing the fleets in perfect formation, both merch and Imperial. Nothing had changed.

Come on, come on! What's wrong with this picture? Think!

The Normandy rocked hard, and a groaning of bending metal made the entire ship shudder. El'e was thrown off again, this time coming to crash on the floor behind her own terminal, and crack her back against the seat. Alarms blared through the CIC, and a cacophony of voices exploded.

"Damn the wind, headswings!" El'e shouted, stopping to groan in pain.

"One of the destroyers!" one of the twins shouted, though El'e was in no mood to try and figure out which one it was.

"We've got to hit back!" the other twin shouted.

"One-" El'e groaned again, pushing herself up to her feet.

"That about sitting down on your chair, leader?" Atal'ine said.

"Not now," El'e snarled. There were a dozen voices vying for her attention, and she only had two sides to hear. "Damage report!"

"Hit to the rear, we've lost pressure in the cargo hold. Bulkheads are down. We've lost twenty-three percent of our atmosphere," the report came from the back of CIC.

"Head to engineering. Iun'er, how is it?"

The reply came, as usual, through a demon racket of a tring of emergencies.

"Leader, we lost half our emergency reserves. Power is down forty percent!"

El'e resisted the urge to curse. Her eyes were taking the battle formations as she spoke, and it wasn't good. The destroyer had moved in with a small fleet of support, and had taken the last imperial defense fleet cruiser, as well as frigates. There were only two other frigates left, and them. All that considered, there was a much more important question to ask.

"What about the thanix?" she said.

"Capacitors are fried. It's charged, so we can fire it once; then we won't be able to recharge it."

Now El'e truly let out a string of profanity. That was what she didn't want to hear. Markers were darting all over the map, with the destroyer giving chase and the twins moving through its support fleet as a way to avoid the destroyer's guns. The two other frigates were finally making a run for it, heading towards the Imperial fleet.

Realization struck her like a thunderbolt. The fleets. The Imperial dreadnought and the rest of its fleet had moved onto the merch, but their opposition wasn't retaliating.

They aren't even moving. The merch aren't moving at all.

She didn't have time to question it. There was something wrong, but she didn't have time for it. Her ship was first.

"Headswings!" she called, her voice firm. "You have one shot of the thanix, and a destroyer bearing on us. Make the best of it."

"Yes sir, leader!" they replied in unison.

"Atal'ine, get me that Imperial dreadnought. They're doing something to the merch, and they're stopping them dead on their tracks."

"I thought you said-"

"I know what I said!" she snapped. "Do it!"

"Fine, fine," Atal'ine replied, chuckling.

He started handling the terminal, and El'e left him to his work. The twins themselves were busy with the battle, trying to line up a shot to the destroyer without giving themselves up too. It occurred to her that she wasn't even considering the dozen or so ships that were around them a problem. Old re-purposed frigates, a few smaller gunships... being on a frigate themselves she would have had every right to be worried. But she wasn't. The twins, and maybe the ship itself, had a way of making those smaller dangers seem trivial. It had to be the twins. She didn't trust the Normandy.

Now she had a chance to really assess the damage. The reports started pouring onto her terminal, and it wasn't pretty. A good chunk of the rear hull had been torn by that shot from the destroyer, and the cargo bay had pretty much been rendered useless. There were names, too. No part of the ship was ever without crew.

Her eyes veered to look at the marker of the destroyer.

You're going to pay for that.

"Kha'le, please respond," Atal'ine called.

"Anything?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm connected, but they're ignoring me."

"Give me the comms," El'e said. The light overhead flicked to blue, and she reached up to open the mic. "This is El'e Ahi'ade, acting leader of the Normandy. I assume you are tracking our movements, despite so pointedly ignoring us. Watch carefully." She flicked the external comms off, and turned to the map. "Headswings, I want that destroyer out of my sky. Now."

"Okay, watch this!" Guni replied.

She felt the Normandy accelerate under her feet, and had to hold onto the console as the entire ship swayed left and right under the guidance of the twins. Some warning messages scrolled through the holoprojection, trying to remind her that the Normandy wasn't in the best shape, but she ignored them. She needed answers from the Imperial fleet, and the twins could get her that.

It was all about sending the right message.

"Now!" Nagi called.

The thanix fired, and the effect inside the Normandy was greater than ever. The lights dimmed, the central console flickered, and several terminals went offline, rebooting themselves after a couple of seconds.

In that couple of seconds, the twins had cut through two frigates, and landed a direct hit on the destroyer, running through shields and hull, and cutting it in half. The map updated itself once power came in full, and two markers had disappeared. The third one, the destroyer, showed up as two separate markers, until, with a few blinks, they too were marked as destroyed and removed.

Without missing a beat, El'e raised her hand to the comms switch again.

"Dreadnought Kha'le. Do I have your attention now?"

Codex: The Culls.

Despite being on completely different sides of every conflict that has shaken the galaxy for the last thousand cycles, Imperial, Federation, and Dau Drakat militaries follow very similar traditions in their organizations. While ranks and divisions differ between them, advancement through the ranks follows the tradition of the culls.

Historically, culls were made in ancient times to separate the weak soldiers from the strong ones, usually with bloody conflicts or gladiatorial competitions. While such methods are not employed nowadays, the tradition of advancement during conflict did remain. When a soldier or officer performs above and beyond their duty, or through their actions achieve a victory that most others of their rank would have been unable to, it is considered a cull, and promotion granted. Similarly, survivors of bloody or costly battles which finish with high numbers of casualties are typically considered to have gone through a cull, too.

While the latter is uncommon, the number of extremely bloody battles increased ever since conflict broke out between the Empire and the Federation.

The first cull all military personnel go through is graduating from the academy in whatever specialty they choose or are assigned to. Imperial academies are notorious for being ruthless, and for casualties to be substantial during training.

Author's notes: I just realized, as I finished this chapter, that I've left about three different threads hanging. So I hope you don't consider me an insufferable tease, but I can promise this time that quite a lot is going to be resolved next time.

Oh, and El'e is fun to write. Now you know (and so do I, I hadn't done her point of view yet).

Speaking of things, this is _still_ my most popular fic, even though I'm not updating that often. Thanks everyone! To answer a few questions - one of my favourite parts! - here:

Reality deviant: There's a few hidden things that'll turn the galaxy on its head, not exactly a fleet, but... things :D

jgkitarel: I really think you've taken it as far as it's humanly possible with the clues I've given out so far :) I think the real question is whether A'di'shira is going to burn the galaxy down before anyone can stop her or not.

Toothless is best: And everyone else, for the matter. Yup, it's going to happen! :D MAy take a few chapters (half a dozen? Maybe).

Perfect Carnage: Indeed! It really is just a guess :D I decided I had to put something concrete to the number of reapers, and to fit it with some of the narrative elements I wanted (including the four reapers created from our cycle). Having a much smaller number of Sovereign class reapers could also be a very interesting way to go, since it'd be a lot more "personal" every time one of them appeared, so to speak.

KMF-G: Shepard's a badass, don't need none of them upgrades! :D

pyr0: Thanks a lot! I'm still working on it, even though I've been a lil' slow recently :)

So, what's next? Well, we have El'e facing a merch and an imperial fleet with a damaged Normandy, Shepard trying to cut through a veritable tide of merch, Lann standing on the veritable belly of the beast, and somewhere between space and the surface, a shuttle carrying a honbarg, a drogn, and an ar'alee all armed to the teeth.

Something's gotta give! Stay tuned and find out what! :D