AN: it's been some time since the last update. A lot of things happened in the meantime, what with the quarantine and the impact of the COVID-19 virus. Right now, I'm working from my home, but that might change in the coming days. I'm doing alright and I can only hope the rest of you are doing alright as well.

Anyway, we're about to branch into Mass Effect 3 territory with this chapter. Don't forget to leave a review if you liked this chapter. Stay safe out there, try to stay home if you can and be good people!

-(++)-

Codex / Humanity and the United Nations Space Command / UNSC Diplomatic Relations / Turian Hierarchy

The United Nations Space Command maintains distant, but amicable relations with the Citadel Council, with the Lambda Serpentis System (see Section Zero) serving as a staging ground for diplomatic activities. Due to the different specializations and advancements in technology, the UNSC has grudgingly admitted that they and the Citadel Council have a lot to learn from each other.

Relations between the UNSC and the Turian Hierarchy are good, despite the UNSC's refusal to sign the Treaty of Farixen, Citadel Conventions and extensive usage of sentient Artificial Intelligences. This is mainly due to the extensive overlap to be found between the Hierarchy and the UNSC. Both have a history of putting down violent rebellions, adhere to the policy of Total Warfare in Space Warfare Doctrines.

After the brief skirmish in the Lambda Serpentis system, the UNSC and the Hierarchy adopted several commercial agreements and trade treaties, with a tentative research treaty awaiting approval. Several turian organizations have made a significant contribution to the economic recovery of the Unified Earth Government, shipping in large amounts of credits and raw resources.

UPDATED:

Rumours are circulating about a possible joint Hierarchy/UNSC anti-piracy force, but these have yet to be verified

-(++)—

17:45 Hours, June 15, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar)/

Lambda Serpentis System / On-board UNSC Autumn-Class heavy cruiser Pillar of Autumn II

"Welcome to the Alliance News Network. I am your host, Emily Wong. Our main topic today! A flood of batarian traffic brings rumour of war? What was supposed to be a decisive strike against an unknown hostile fleet turned dire when the Master Builder, believed by many to be the last survivor of an ancient alien race predating the Protheans, and his fleet never returned from the batarian-held Harsa Relay.

Mere hours after the gathered fleet went into batarian territory, colonies across the Hegemony began evacuations. They claim a hostile species has fought through the Master Builder's fleet, attacked the Hegemony's fleet and began bombarding Khar'shan and other batarian planets. Some refugees claim the attackers were the UNSC. Others blame the geth or even the Covenant. All report that the enemy, in whatever form, is blockading the relay, destroying most spacecraft trying to make it through."

Fleet Admiral Joseph Harper snorted and disengaged the civilian channel. The Office of Naval Intelligence had only just released a data package for every UNSC warship containing declassified information about the Reaper threat.

So how long ago did this happen? The Citadel species had based their superluminal communication on the Relays, and the UNSC's own superluminal communication system wasn't in place yet, so this could be anywhere from a couple of hours to two days old. He just returned to the Lambda Serpentis System from a harrowing meeting back on Earth and already he found himself in the midst of a national crisis.

So the Master Builder had gotten himself in a fight he couldn't win, eh? Well, no skin off his back. In fact, it would save Margaret a hell of a lot of trouble. A happy Margaret Parangosky was a healthy UNSC.

But the thing was, the Fleet Admiral was not sure which enemy he would rather fight against. After the entire mess on the Ark, he did not feel at all comfortable fighting anything Forerunner related. But these supposed Reapers were just as much of a problem. Reportedly, it took the entire Citadel Defence Fleet to kill even one of those things.

Now granted, it seemed like the Citadel Fleet could be crippled by a moderately angry calculator if Spartan-117's escape was anything to go by, but Harper would never take anything for granted. After all, he had witnessed first-hand what damage single, desperate capital ships could do if left even moderately unattended…

The UNSC Officer was shaken by his thoughts when the shirtless, muscled figure of Kintarō suddenly appeared in front of him. The AI crossed his massive arms over his even more massive chest, as if scolding the Fleet Admiral for something. "Yo, boss! You got an appointment coming up, check your time!"

Frowning, Harper checked his personal datapad. According to his own notes, he was supposed to meet the quarian engineers down in Engineering two minutes from now.

He muttered a curse under his breath, thanked the AI for his foresight and quickly marched towards the elevator.

How could he have forgotten? It wasn't only unprofessional, it was worrying. He was in command of this entire system, all of "Section Zero". Its logistics, its diplomacy, not to mention its defence against the numerous enemies that were gunning for the UNSC even now. The Lambda Serpentis system was vital for the ongoing negotiations between the Council and the UNSC. If he wasn't at the best if his game...

The weary Admiral ran his hand through his hair and ordered the elevator down to the lowest levels. The last months had been hectic. From the Fall of Reach to the Battle of Earth straight to First Contact with the Citadel species. One thing after another, an entire campaign for survival without any chances to sit back, regroup and recover.

Sleep didn't help. He believed it was the same for the other soldiers too. They didn't talk about it in public, wouldn't admit what they perceived as weakness, but it was there. Oh, it was there.

Harper made his way through the labyrinthine corridors of the Heavy Cruiser, having long since memorized their layout. An Officer who didn't know their way around their own ship wasn't an Officer in his eyes.

This close to the conference room prepared for their guests, Harper saw various quarian engineers working in vital sections of the ship. Only a couple of human handlers were around to keep an eye on them. What little distrust had lingered after the quarians found and returned the Master Chief to humanity quickly disappeared after a showcase of competence, efficiency and enthusiasm.

Basic exchange programs with the Quarian Flotilla had proven to be very successful, with large groups of quarian engineers working around the clock to repair and refit salvageable ships from Jericho's debris field in return for credits or nonclassified technological caches for their Pilgrimages. From there, the UNSC had approved the Joint Engineering Doctrine, a large-scale cultural and technological exchange program between the UNSC, the Turian Hierarchy and the Flotilla. After hours and hours of negotiations with the quarian Admiralty and the turian Primarchs, the UNSC managed to hammer out the perfect compromise. Officially, nobody was happy, as both the UEG as the Citadel Council was hesitant to openly share their technological achievements.

Off the record, however, the presence of over three dozen quarian engineering ships and platforms in the Lambda Serpentis System was a sight for sore eyes. Kinetic Barriers were no Energy Shields, but it would take months of extensive work to equip the UNSC Navy with such shields. In the meantime, Barriers were cheap and effective.

Above all, they were easy to install.

The Fleet Admiral nodded to the quarians who spotted him, then continued on to the conference room. Once there, he checked the time and winced when he saw that he was three minutes late.

He subconsciously stopped to check his dress uniform, straightened his cap and knocked. He waited five seconds before entering.

His liaison, Captain Zaene'Suma nar Vebra, stood up from her chair. "Ah, Admiral Harper."

"Captain Suma." The Fleet Admiral closed the door behind him and sat down at the other end of the table. "You wanted to talk to me about the project?"

The quarian Captain was the quarian representative of the Joint Engineering Doctrine aboard the Pillar of Autumn II. Initially, Harper expected the quarians to be a massive strain on humanity's already-weakened economy, but Suma's team was willing to work for wages that were even worse than the legendary-abysmal Marine salary. At first, Harper had felt guilty for paying the workers so little, but Captain Suma had made it very clear to him that their income was much better with the UNSC than it was with most Citadel companies, so he had dropped the issue.

Captain Suma typed in a couple of codes into her omni-tool and "flung" a series of files from her device to Harper's own.

The Admiral's own datapad was one of the first JED creations, with many more to come. It was a standard Officer's datapad that incorporated many details of the omni-tool's design. It recognized the attempt at a data transfer, which Harper quickly authorized.

"My engineers had some trouble understanding the design of the Pillar of Autumn II's weapon systems," she began. "As its design is more modern than those found in the debris field. Still, applying the mass effect in itself is an easy concept. A small mass effect core can lighten the shell before it is fired. Of course, this loss of mass must be compensated for with an even greater increase in velocity and finding that balance is tricky. I have attached the relevant files."

Harper opened one of the files. It was an elaborate blueprint of sorts, three-dimensional. It depicted the Autumn's Mark IX Heavy Coil, but with several modifications.

"I take it these minor changes aren't enough to warrant a personal meeting," the Admiral replied.

Suma shook her head. "No Admiral. It is about the ship's power systems. Installing the components for the kinetic barriers will be easy enough, but without access to the power systems there is no saying how potent the barriers will be. Reformatting them to be compatible with your generators is one thing, but doing so without actually working with said generators?"

Admiral Harper leant back in his chair, observing the quarian's blank faceplate. He wished the woman could afford to walk around without having to conceal her face in his ship. Alien or not, she was his guest, and the thought that his ship wasn't safe enough for her irked him.

Maybe that's something our biologists can work out in the future?

"I understand your problems there," Harper replied. He flicked through the schematics, encountering another one regarding the point-defence systems. "UNSC standard procedure is to keep any and all aliens from gaining access to our technology, no matter how insignificant it might seem."

He only realized how offensive that sounded when the words had already left his mouth. Luckily, the quarian didn't appear at all upset about it.

"Given the UNSC's past experience with other species, that is understandable. Still, without full access to the Pillar of Autumns II's power systems, our modifications will not take."

At this point, Admiral Harper seriously doubted that the quarians of all people would screw them over. The Joint Engineering Doctrine had its detractors, but he genuinely believed the project was for the betterment of mankind.

The UNSC only had a few hundred ships left after the Human-Covenant War. High Command had yet to complete the official count, but since even the vessels operating at the far fringes of human territory had returned to Earth, Harper doubted there were more than three-hundred fifty warships left operable after the war. Maybe four fifty, but that was pushing it.

The Navy continued to replace its losses with the shipyards at Mars, Tribute and Earth herself, but the pace was still slow. The economy was still recovering. Humanity needed this.

"I understand," he reluctantly said. "Your people will have access to the ship's power generators. Was there – "

His datapad buzzed loudly as an urgent call came through.

The Fleet Admiral held out his hand to the quarian and answered the call, expecting the worst.

"Harper here. What is it?"

"Admiral, we've been hailed by the turians! They're reading activity from the Relay!"

Another officer could be heard, yelling in the background. The Fleet Admiral was already up and moving when his 2-IC, his Second-in-Command, confirmed his suspicions. "Sensors are reading two dozen new contacts leaving the Relay."

"I'm on my way now. Form up defensive lines and patch the Citadel ships into the Autumn's network!" Ordered Harper.

The Pillar of Autumn II featured an advanced and extensive long-range sensory arsenal, reverse-engineered Covenant hyperscanner detectors, combined with state-of-the-art naval battle network relays located on its dorsal with the Heavy Cruiser's role as either an attack, command or escort Capital ship, that made the Autumn ideal for coordinating entire fleets in direct action.

The Captains and Admirals from the Citadel theatre had begrudgingly agreed that, in case of an emergency, all vessels in Section Zero would serve under Fleet Admiral Harper's command for the duration of the emergency.

And when Harper returned to his command seat on the bridge and assessed the situation, he realized that calling this an emergency was an understatement.

The holographic projector in front of his seat had already materialized a three-dimensional replica of the staging area around Jericho VII. One by one, the Citadel ships establishing a connection to the Autumn appeared within the projection.

The command screen, meanwhile, showed footage of twenty-eight alien vessels surging forth from the Relay. They lined up in a loose arrowhead formation, with the largest vessels up front and the smaller vessels behind. The ships were almost black, covered with angry red lines. The front of the ship consisted of five tentacle-like protrusions, while the rear was tapered into a point. The design reminded him of a squid with a pointy hat.

Problem was, these squids were two kilometres long, even larger than the Autumn II.

"Ship designs are a match for the Sovereign ship that attacked the Citadel two years ago," Kintarō said, appearing from the holopedestal next to Harper's command seat. "Boss, it's gotta be the Reapers!"

Harper quickly tagged the Reaper ships as targets One through Twenty-eight. "Get me targeting solutions for our MAC cannon and sync them with the rest of the fleet," he growled. "I want the entire salvo hitting them at once. And prime the Hornet Mines."

"Aye!"

A cluster of small red dots appeared around the Mass Relay. These stealthy, Plutonium-cored nuclear devices would come as a nasty 30 Megaton surprise to any Reaper reinforcements.

One micro-second later, Kintarō had sent the encrypted firing solutions and countdown timers to the rest of the fleet. A web of trajectories appeared on the tactical map, connecting each of the allied warships to one of the incoming Reapers.

"Divert as much power as you can to the MAC guns. We'll be lobbing everything we've got downrange."

As the bridge officers got to work, the Fleet Admiral sent a quick message to the quarian engineering team down below. As the Reapers were still on approach, there was a window of opportunity for them to leave the ship while they could, but only if they dropped everything they were doing.

"Citadel ships have reached their location," a Lieutenant reported. "The asari Admiral called for reinforcements. Turian Eight Fleet is underway from a patrol, but they're three hours away."

Three hours…this battle would be over in three minutes if the Reapers were as powerful as the Alliance claimed.

His datapad buzzed again. Captain Zaene'Suma had sent her reply: she would be staying aboard the Autumn, along with the rest of the engineering team.

For a moment, the Admiral stared at the message. He had not expected such nobility

"Enemy is launching fighters!" Called a crewman.

"Kintarō," Admiral Harper said, "Activate our point defense systems."

On-screen, the various Frigates and Cruisers launched their own fighter and drone squadrons, bolstered by the lone UNSC Carrier Happiness Delivery. The Reapers had gotten close enough for the Council warships to fire, and Harper immediately cleared them to do so.

With a series of synchronized flashes, the Citadel ships opened up. Their armaments were weaker, but much faster than the Magnetic Accelerator Cannons, both in fire rate as projectile speed. Hundreds of yellow flashes peppered the approaching Reapers, even as the Reapers returned fire.

Destructive crimson beams speared into the defendants' formation, cutting into the smaller ships and destroying them almost immediately. The Autumn rumbled as a Reaper scored a direct hit, but the effect was even less noticeable than when the ship fired its MAC.

"Damage report!" Harper snapped.

"Moderate damage to the outer hull," replied one the crewmen. "Shield generator yield is nominal."

If anything, Harper's after-action report would mention that the electromagnetic armour upgrades worked like a charm. The damage done to the outer Titanium hull triggered a series of sensors within the armour. It triggered the nearest shield generator embedded within the hull, creating an intense, transient energy shield effect localized solely on the point of impact.

Still, he wasn't going to bet on the system saving his ass every time. Harper didn't know what the hell those bastards fired, but it was potent enough to carve through the kinetic barriers of the Council ships like a knife through butter.

One of those larger turian Cruisers managed to shrug off a direct hit from a smaller Reaper, though just barely. Venting atmosphere, the Cruiser's Captain swiftly received the order to retreat.

An asari Cruiser was not so lucky. One of those red beams slammed into its dorsal side and the ship detonated, disappearing in a flash of blue light.

By then, the Reapers had gotten close enough for the UNSC to show her teeth. Frigates and Destroyers launched smouldering lines of metal that raced towards the unwitting Reapers. Seconds later, the Happiness Delivery andthe Pillar of Autumn II shuddered and spat lethal bolts of thunder towards the Reapers.

While the Reapers could shrug off several salvos of those small mass accelerators, the immense might of the modern MAC was completely different matter. The Reaper capital ships attempted to evade, but they were too slow. The rounds slammed into their lines, the massive kinetic force instantly overwhelming the barriers of the stricken ships. Those unfortunate enough to be hit twice, or be the target of the lone Carrier and Heavy Cruiser, were scattered into a million pieces.

One of the Autumn's own MAC's slammed into a Reaper capital ship at seventy kilometres per second. The ultra-dense depleted uranium slammed into the Reaper, gutting it from stern to stern. Broken pieces of hull scattered through the Reaper formation, bouncing off their kinetic barriers.

With their main weapons recharging, the USNC ships engaged the rest of their immense spectrum of firepower. Hundreds of missiles streaked from the formation, further bolstered by Disruptor Torpedoes and broadside mass accelerators.

"All ships from group three through eight, engage FTL and break off!" Harper ordered. "Circle around the remaining targets and attack from the attached coordinates!"

The Reapers unleashed another wave of single-ships. Hundreds of odd, circular craft streaked towards their battlegroup. The Citadel ships were faster and more agile than their UNSC counterparts, but more fragile as well. Admiral Harper knew that, if he didn't capitalize on their strengths, they would be undone by their weaknesses.

Kintarō chuckled as he took control of the formation's point defense network. The Autumn alone sported four Mark 40 Spitfire naval coilgun batteries, coilguns that had higher muzzle velocity, improved tracking speed, and better accuracy than their Mark 33 predecessors. These coilguns were also armored with new Titanium-A formulation that shaved several tons off each turret without compromising protection. Combined with the 50mm autocannons and M910 Rampart gun batteries, the AI effectively filled the cold vacuum around the battlegroup with enough metal to turn it into a traveling hazard for years to come.

GARDIAN lasers speared the few Reaper fighters that did manage to get through. But once the Reapers had gotten close enough, they were free to bombard the defenders with their strange, high-powered cannons. More and more allied ships vanished from his tactical overlay, including two heavily-armoured UNSC Destroyers.

The Halbert-Class warships had maneuvered themselves "above" a trio of heavily damaged turian Cruisers that had been shelling the Reapers with long distance fire, allowing the Cruisers to reunite with the rest of their battlegroup.

The loss of his fellow soldiers pained him, but the aged Destroyers had taken a tremendous beating and given the Reapers everything they had in return.

The joint UNSC-Council attempt to stonewall the Reapers had cost the monstrosities dearly - twenty enemy ships had been taken out of commission.

Eight Reapers were left to continue the onslaught. All of them capital ships. Strangely enough, they did not press the attack. Instead, they veered off-course, taking a heading that saw them sling around the sun and leave the system altogether.

"They're running?" One of the officers muttered.

"Can't be. They're supposed to be incredibly intelligent. Why pick a fight and then run away?"

"Maybe we took them surprise?"

His 2-IC looked at him. "Admiral, orders?"

Harper stared at the tactical overlay, wondering what the hell these things were doing. Did they know the Relay was mined? Were they trying to circle around, strike at the industrial facilities the INSC only recently moved in-system?

"Kintarō , where are they heading?" Harper asked.

The AI shrugged. "Don't know. Space is, like, big. Current trajectory sees them pushing into UEG territory. Dunno what they want to do there; without the Relays, it could take them weeks to reach one of our worlds. Worlds they won't ever find, 'cause we're not dependent on the Relays to begin with." He tapped the side of his head and grinned, but Harper didn't feel very reassured.

There had to be a reason the Reapers suddenly decided to bug out. Jericho VII was the only UEG world the Citadel Council knew of, wasn't it?

Harper didn't know. What he did know was this entire battle had been way too close. They had taken nine UNSC ships out of commission – destroyed or too damaged to keep fighting – with more than double that number of casualties on the Council's side. Without the Autumn's heavy MAC and the Carrier's double coiled onslaught, they might have very well lost this encounter.

"Set a rendezvous point at the refit station," he ordered. "Make us ready to take on wounded. Prep the Hospital Corpsmen for alien casualties."

"Ehm…aliens, sir?"

Harper nodded, still looking at the tactical overlay. "They could have left us to dry when the Reapers came. It's our ground, not theirs. But they stayed, they listened, they fought. And that makes them our brothers. Send a message to High Command. Tell them what's coming."

-(++)-

She woke with a start, frantically looking around the room to search for him. Panic welled up within her when she realized that she was alone and she leapt upright. Everything was still and quiet. The dull, grey room contained nothing but a bed, a suit of armour and a rifle.

Her armour and rifle.

She struggled to recall what happened before she went to sleep. There was the fight in the mines, against the humans with the black armour. There was the hasty escape from the planet, meeting the other people like him. And…and Shepard. Commander Jane Shepard.

The woman her makers wanted her to become, or failing that, serve as her replacement organs, before he came and saved her.

She remembered the instructions. They were burned into her mind, echoing within her dreams. Knowledge, vast and vague, welled up in her thoughts every time she looked at something.

Without his help to make it concrete, it was all just whispers and echoes. Nothing to make sense of.

Awkwardly, the woman climbed out of her bed. As she put on her armour, she fought to recall her name.

Jane Shepard is in the past, he had told her. You are you.

Annah. Your name is Annah.

They all went aboard this ship to escape the metal monsters. He told her that he was going to talk with the other soldiers and left her alone in this room.

Okay. So far so good.

But he hadn't come back for her. Why not? What happened?

Annah fumbled with the omni-tool they had taken from one of the blue-skinned people. Most of her equipment came from the bad people they killed. He had instructed her in its use, telling her how to fight with it and communicate through it.

Her pulse quickened when she saw that he left her a message. With trembling fingers, she opened it.

'Left with the other Spartans and Shepard to find Millennia's mainframe – '

Millennia was the mean girl inside of his head. And, whenever she lost her temper, she was the mean girl in her head as well.

'- and I'll find you when I get back. Go to the Alliance. Find a man, David Anderson. Tell him everything. '

Everything? But he told her not to talk about the things they did!

'I mean EVERYTHING. Even the things we've learned. I've put together files, which should help. He'll know what to do. Stay in your armour, don't let anyone beside David Anderson know who you are. Stay safe.'

Apprehension struck. Annah didn't want to do anything but do as he asked, but there was so much she didn't know! So much he hadn't taught her! How was she supposed to get to this "Alliance" on her own? She didn't even know where she was!

But when she read the last part of the message, she realized that he already knew she would struggle with his orders. He left her a series of names and terms to namedrop if she ever found herself facing someone she wasn't meant to kill to get past. Some, she understood. "Millennia Never Falling", "Master Builder" and "Spartan". Others terms, like "Master Chief" and "John", she had never heard of before.

Nevertheless, how was she going to make sense of all this?

Then, she read the very last message.

'Read the Codex'.

That gave her a measure of security. The Codex was that digital book that often provided the context her jumbled mind needed to make sense of the world.

Stay calm.

Annah took a couple of deep, stabilizing breaths. She had to stay calm. He taught her that she always had to let logic reign.

Stay calm.

She attached her rifle to her back, struggling for a moment to find that spot that made it stick.

Magnetic straps.

When her rifle remained in place, she walked towards the door and opened it. The hallways were small and cramped. This had to be that stealthy ship, of the…the…

She checked the Codex.

Yes, the UNSC, the other humanity. The angry one.

Finding the spot where the other humans were wasn't that difficult. Most rooms were either locked or abandoned, and the largest room was the one all the way at the front. There, several USNC humans were quietly communicating with each other while fumbling with their computers. The outer edge of the room showed a computer screen, which in turn showed the face of a wrinkled, angry-looking man.

It sounded like they were arguing.

" – agreed to follow you this far, Admiral. But we don't answer to the Alliance."

"You answer to the UNSC, yes. But it was your ship that took in Spartan-003, who is considered a criminal by Citadel law, as you are no doubt aware."

"The UNSC never agreed to obey galactic law as the Citadel Council sees fit. Given the circumstances, surely some leeway can be expected? Especially since your Spectre, Commander Shepard, interfered with an official Office of Naval Intelligence operation, which is considered a punishable offense by our law."

The older man snorted. "The Systems Alliance is aware that Commander Shepard and Spartan 117 departed on a joint operation, Captain. Even if that weren't the case, Shepard's the only reason the Sahara got out in one piece."

"Captain" sighed. "I'm a soldier, Admiral, not a politician. We've been for three hours already. Surely our sensors don't outperform yours that much?"

Annah gathered her courage and softly scraped her throat.

"No Captain, not enough to warrant a stay at Earth for that alone. What – "

The man on screen didn't hear her, but the crew did.

"One moment, Admiral."

"Captain" turned around and looked at her. He knew her, because he had been there when she boarded his ship. He probably had no idea what to do with her, however.

That was okay. She knew the feeling.

"I need to speak with Admiral Anderson," she said. Was she too timid? Too loud? She understood just enough about inflections to know that they could colour your entire conversation. "It's important."

The man on screen narrowed his eyes, staring at her as if peering right through her helmet. "Commander? Is that you? I thought you left with the Master Chief."

Was it alright to lie, if it got her where she needed to be? "It's complicated, Admiral. I need to speak with Anderson. It's important."

Annah knew enough to realize that the Admiral looked very sceptical, so she added, "It's about Millennia Never Falling's activities. The Master Chief asked me to explain to David."

That last bit was a gamble on her side. Without knowing how this "Anderson" fit into the picture, or if this Admiral even knew about the Master Chief, there was every chance of this backfiring on her.

According to the Codex, the real Shepard was so good with people that some dubbed it supernatural. How did she do that?

The Admiral was silent for a few, nerve-wrecking seconds. But then…"Anderson's currently on Earth. I can arrange a meeting, Commander, but I'd like to know what the hell you've been up to the last couple of days. Where is the Master Chief? Where are the Spartan and the AI?"

Annah could honestly say that she had no idea, but that wouldn't exactly help her case here. "All in due time, Admiral."

With that out of the way, she simply turned around and left for her room again. She wondered if she did good?

-(++)-

Earth-SA

Vancouver

System Alliance Offices

Most of the members of the congress in the room were pleasant, professional people. Men and women with sharp minds and the will to challenge the status quo. These were the ones Anderson mostly dealt with.

Then there the politicians who were like sharks in a tiny pond, attracted to even the faintest whiff of blood. They'd pounce on you like a bunch of damned predators, eager to tear you apart for the slightest slipup. Any "conversation" with those people was more like a public, verbal execution. Painful, drawn-out and often just cruel.

If their debates were broadcasted on civilian channels, it was even worse. They'd throw each other to the dogs if it meant giving their own personal views a moment in the spotlights, like schoolyard bullies without adult supervision.

Even Anderson, the Council representative of the Systems Alliance, loathed having to deal with those politicians. He avoided them whenever he could. As it was now, he was looking at four such politicians concentrating their efforts on one man and by God, that man was winning.

"The United Nations Space Command intervention on Mindoir was just one of the Citadel Council's many concerns. Do not think that, because we are humans as well, we will ignore your blatant lack of adherence to galactic foreign policy."

"The UNSC's primary mission is to ensure the safety and security of Unified Earth Government territories, possessions and areas vital to its interest," Ambassador Sergeant Major Johnson barked. "An unopposed pirate attack on a world the UEG attempts to hold a commercial treaty with definitely belongs in there, wouldn't you agree? The UNSC's success in defending Alliance territories is just as relevant as the Alliance's inability to defend her own damn territories!"

Some of Terra Firma's representatives perked up at that exclamation.

Anderson rested his chin on his hand as he watched the spectacle unfold. When he heard that the Alliance had scheduled a public debate with the only UEG representative left in their territory, he'd been dumbstruck. Demanding answers from the UNSC was a PR debacle waiting to happen. Demanding answers from this man Johnson was akin to national public suicide.

One half of the room was tensed up, ready to interfere if this turned south. The other half probably had bets in place.

"The Alliance resents these accusations!"

"Good for you," the Sergeant coldly replied. "Hierarchy's pledged their support to the UNSC's operations in the Terminus Systems, so you can knock on their doors if you want. You wanna keep going, or should we pick another subject? For once I am being paid by the hour!"

Anderson cleared his throat. "The subject of Mindoir's intervention has been handled. On to the next subject at hand."

A few moments of silence as the politicians switched to their omni-tools and readied themselves.

"Science Without Borders would like to ask about the Forerunners," a woman proclaimed. "Where are they now? What was their relation with the Protheans and why is the UNSC so afraid the other races will encounter their artefacts?"

A colleague of hers immediate chimed in. "Is the UEG scared that the Citadel species might reverse-engineer Forerunner technology for themselves?"

"Ma'am, unlike your Prothean pansies who left behind build-a-tech kits for your species, the Forerunners were so advanced that we're still trying to reverse-engineer them! My people don't want aliens poking their noses where don't belong 'cause of she shit they might accidentally unleash! Last time some shmucks played with Forerunner tech, they woke up the Master Builder and turned Illium into a crater!"

Anderson winced. Another upset Matriarch…

But Johnson had only just begun. "Now, the Forerunners are gone. But the Reapers ain't the only space-assholes out there trying to take a piece of humanity. The Forerunners dealt with their own shit as well, shit that would clog up the entire galaxy if it ever hit the hyperdrive,"

"So you believe that the alleged Reapers are true?" Someone else quickly asked.

At this point, Anderson had given up all hopes of damage control. Trying to control Avery Johnson was like trying to control a Thresher Maw. Or Commander Shepard, for that matter.

The Sergeant Major had bought himself enough goodwill with the Citadel Council to last a lifetime. He saved them when that AI assaulted the Citadel. He had tried – in his own special way – to explain just who the Forerunners were and what they were capable of. He had stuck by Anderson's side all the way back to Earth, where the masses were screaming for an explanation.

As the representative of the UEG and her military branch, the UNSC, Johnson took the brunt of their actions. Though he only ever forwarded the more promising messages to Anderson – which included not one, but six declarations of love from across the galaxy, most of them turian – the human Councillor knew for a fact that there were enough people who blamed the UNSC for everything that happened.

And it wasn't hard to see why. It almost felt as if this entire mess was the direct result of First Contact with the UEG.

"Believe? Hell no, I believe in Cupid and beautiful grinding threads! I accept the existence of the Reapers just as I accept the resistance of this second humanity," Johnson replied.

Was that a sexual joke? Military? Anderson had no idea anymore. He didn't think Johnson knew the difference. As the Sergeant Major began to explain just what he really thought about the lack of preparations for the Reaper menace, the doors to the conference hall opened and half the damn Admiralty board entered the room.

One of them caught Anderson's eye and subtly shook her head.

The Councillor felt his stomach plummet. He swiftly stood up from his desk and said, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to wrap this up…"

On his cue, the cameras stopped rolling, and the atmosphere changed instantly.

"…the next meeting is due to start. If you could all vacate this chamber?"

As Anderson swept his gaze through the room, he saw that Johnson was already on his feet, his personal belongings gathered under one arm as he tried to march past the Admirals.

"Actually, Sergeant Major, if you would stay for this meeting?" Admiral Nitesh of the SSV Logan asked. "We believe we have need of your expertise."

Johnson glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the politicians as they left the chamber. When the last civilian had left, leaving only those with the highest military clearance behind, the man returned to his seat and put his belongings back again.

"So what's this about?" The man asked while the Admirals – and some Generals, Anderson saw – took their seats. "Who messed up this time?"

Admiral Nitesh glanced over at Anderson. As the Commanding Admiral of the Third Fleet, it was rare for him to attend to meetings on Earth. Whatever this was, it had to be big.

"Two matters, actually," Nitesh started. "I…will not beat around the bush here. We are sending one half of the Second Fleet as reinforcements to Section Zero. Our auxiliary force there reported a hostile fleet on approach."

"The Reapers?" Anderson asked.

"We don't know," the General replied. "Not for sure."

Johnson scoffed. "It's either the Covenant, or the Reapers. In both cases, you wanna start mobilizing your Fleets."

"We are very aware of the decisions that need to be undertaken," a female Admiral hissed back. "We don't need a grunt telling us what to do!"

"Either way," Anderson quickly intervened before the Sergeant Major could deliver a scathing response. "We're not ready. If it's the Covenant, then the Master Builder lost. If it's the Reapers, we need all the help we can get! We need to contact Shepard – "

"Actually Councillor, that's the second matter," Nitesh interrupted him. "The UNSC Sahara…turned out to have Commander Shepard on-board. She contacted Admiral Hackett, says she needs to talk to you."

Hearing that, Johnson and Anderson exchanged an uneasy look. What the hell was this about? Jane had last been spotted by Admiral Hackett in the Perseus Veil, on-board a USNC stealth ship, getting the entire gathered Citadel fleet to stand down and let her take the Spartan with her.

Said stealth ship had agreed to return to the System Alliance's Earth, said Spartan may or may not have possession of the Forerunner AI and said Citadel fleet had been surprised by the sudden appearance of what could only be described as a derelict Dreadnought, which reportedly took off with a Covenant Assault Carrier.

"Commander Shepard?" Anderson repeated. "You're telling me that Shepard contacted Admiral Hackett from that stealth ship?"

This was a trap. It had to be. Shepard was MIA together with the rogue Spartan and that AI. Nobody had any clue where they were and the UNSC wasn't talking.

"I know, it seems farfetched, but Steven seemed convinced," Admiral Nitesh explained. "She mentioned the Master Chief, as well as the Forerunner AI. She said it's important."

Johnson's expression was inscrutable. He never talked much about his time on-board the Normandy, but he had to know Jane well enough to know if this thing was real or not.

But the man remained silent, so Anderson had no other choice than to go along with what Nitesh suggested.

"I'll go that meeting, see what it is about," he said. Two of the security officers escorting the Admirals joined him as he vacated the chamber.

They escorted him to a smaller conference hall in the East wing of the building. Alliance brass had doubled security in there after Shepard's supposed arrival. Soldiers in sleek-looking armour patrolled the hallways, their faces hidden behind dark visors. Two of them stood at attention at the far end of the hall, flanking a door.

David guessed that the Alliance still didn't trust her. Hell, after Cerberus, that mess with the asari and her stunt in the Perseus Veil, he could hardly blame them.

But that didn't matter to him. He had been the first authority figure in her life after Mindoir. It didn't matter what Shepard did, he would always have her back.

He approached the door and the two guards saluted him. He returned the salute and they stepped aside.

Time to figure out what the hell is going on.

The door slid open and the human Councillor stepped inside. A woman stood on the other side of the room, leaning against the window as she glanced outside. She was tall, easily above six feet, and her blood-red hair was longer than he last saw it.

When the door closed behind him, the woman turned around. Sharp, green eyes surveyed Anderson with mild curiosity.

David returned her gaze with a neutral expression, careful to betray nothing of the turmoil he felt upon seeing her again. Simple observation told him that this was Jane, but something in his gut told him to be careful.

"Shepard?" He quietly asked.

The corners of her lips curled upwards in a little, melancholic smile. "Not exactly. Close enough, I suppose."

Not exactly…"Wait, what do you – "

"Call me what you will. It matters little," the woman said. Her voice sounded distant, her expression devoid of emotion. Her detached interest was the exact opposite of Jane's usual enthusiasm and it only added to how wrong this situation felt. "I've come here to talk."

"I don't understand," Anderson said. "You look like her. You sound like her."

"But I'm not. Commander Shepard is with the Spartans."

Anderson blinked. Spartans? Plural?

He grabbed the chair and sat down, not just because that would be more comfortable. "You lured me here under false pretences, acting like Commander Shepard. Hell, you even look the part. Could have pretended you were her and nobody would see the damn difference." David halted, keeping his temper in check.

He couldn't help it. This wasn't a case of someone using surgery to look more like someone. He was looking at his girl. And it wasn't her. "You came here to talk? Fine. But whoever you are, you better start making sense."

She mimicked his gesture, sitting down in one of the chairs as well. She was slower than her, too. More careful. "I'm not Shepard. I'm a…duplicate, created from her genetic material by Cerberus. Assurance, in case she ever needed spare organs."

Anderson took a moment to process that. It sounded just like Cerberus to do something messed up like that. His anger and outrage at the woman's visage ebbed away; she never asked for this either.

But then he remembered Cerberus' standard procedure for things that weren't needed anymore. And the suspicion returned. "And they just let you go?"

"A man saved me, maybe a couple of weeks back," she replied. "I believe you know him as the "rogue Spartan"."

That didn't exactly help Anderson's suspicions. But hell, Shepard told him all about the Chief. He'd trust any Spartan above Cerberus, rogue or not. "Why'd he save you? And why are you telling me about this? The man's an enemy of the Systems Alliance."

He hardly even finished that last part before the woman shook her head. "No, he really is not. He's on the Master Chief's side, and he is on Shepard's side, and she wants to save the galaxy." The woman paused, then added, "Don't know why."

That last bit wasn't malice, or misanthropist, as far as David could tell. Suddenly, he felt a bit more uncomfortable, sitting here on his own. Jane was a Biotic powerhouse, a finely-tuned killer even before Cerberus brought her back with those implants and cybernetics. There was no telling what this woman could do.

"This Spartan was on Illium. His appearance was linked to the AI that took the Citadel," Anderson explained. "The UNSC denied all knowledge of his presence, but all the agencies agree that he was present when the Forerunner Intelligence and the – "

"You mean Minerva?"

"No, I…who?"

"Her real name is more difficult to remember," she explained, a lot more cheerful now. "I call her Minerva."

Anderson was aghast. In his mind, this capricious, ancient AI was a blight on the galaxy, as much of a problem as the Master Builder and a lot more malicious. And she named it?

Oblivious to Anderson's confusion, the woman continued. "I don't know where they met. She found him, or…or he found her. They were already together when he freed me. She didn't talk to me a lot, but I knew she was there."

Anderson would not doubt that. "And then? What happened in Illium?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. He asked me to tell you everything we knew, so that's what I'm doing. The asari freed the Master Builder, and Minerva has some sort of…rivalry with him. I don't really get it. They're both killers, and they've both lived for more than a hundred thousand years…"

Those staggering numbers only reminded David more of the Reaper threat, looming overhead, growing darker with every passing day.

"…but the Master Builder thinks he's solution. Minerva thinks he's part of the problem, just like the Reapers are –"

Anderson couldn't even hear the rest of what the woman told him. "Hold on, part of the problem?"

" – and the only way to actually stop any of this from happening is by finding her Mainframe."

She didn't notice his distress. She didn't see how her words struck him like mass accelerator fire. Jane would have. She would have seen everything. "Shep – hold on a moment. This doesn't make any sense."

She blinked, puzzled at his confusion. "It's not supposed. Not to us. Minerva said that it was all set into motion long ago, even before her time. I…have it written down, if you want to make sense of it?"

David almost instinctively agreed, but he stopped himself. She said it wasn't supposed to make sense. If all of this was decided by ancient precursor species, long ago, how could she have files?

"Written down what, exactly?" He asked.

She seemed so serene now. Like she understood everything just fine. Maybe she just realized that she couldn't understand, and made her peace with that. "It's just what they pieced together, up to now. He told me to give it to you. He said you would understand."

The Spartan who carried an ancient, all-powerful Forerunner AI with him thought that he would understand?

The soldier in Anderson's heart overruled the politician in his brain. "Fine. Send me those files. I'm tired of always running around in the dark."

"Don't be," the woman replied a she activated her own omni-tool. "We're all be doing that, sooner or later."

-(++)—

He found himself lying in a bed, covered in soft blankets. He felt groggy, but warm. His surroundings were vague and dull. He heard the turning of papers, and looked to his left, seeing his sister sitting in a chair with a book.

"Hey…" he muttered.

"Hey," she replied. She looked happy. She closed her book and laid it by her side. "How ya feeling?"

Outside of his mind he was aware of an incredible pain, great enough to blot out all coherent thoughts, but something – or someone – seemed to keep it at bay.

"Where am I?" He asked. "I was…I was on Reach. I helped the Chief…pull her out of the tunnel and…"

He trailed off. The rest was just blurry.

His sister nodded. "I think you're dead,' she said in a cheerful voice.

That would make sense. Then this…this fever dream was…what, his final neural activity?

"Finally…" he muttered. "So what…what happened? Did the rest make it?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. I'm trying to find out."

Snatches of memory played through his mind. The Didact and the Librarian, the revelation of an ancient humanity who warred with the Forerunners…he was the only one who knew. The only one who understood the Forerunner and the human perspective.

He closed his eyes, and the image of his sister was gone. He was alone with his thoughts now. As long as he still had those, at least.

Voices called out from far away.

"Again."

They sounded like they came from underwater. What was - ?

" – gel, right there…"

Just trying to listen to those voices was exhausting. He felt too weak to concentrate, and it was all too easy to just let go. To stop trying and just…let go. Was there even a purpose to fighting at this point?

Then, he felt the touch of another consciousness – one so vast and powerful he felt like standing before a mountain. The faint echoes of music ran through its alien depths, like deep amber chords that pulsated with angry melancholy.

Come, it is not your time.

He recoiled at her mind, so much closer to his than before. It took him a moment to recognize it.

Rise, Alan. You are needed.

With great effort, he clawed his way to consciousness. He reluctantly opened his eyes, his blurry vision coming into focus slowly. His surroundings were dark and purple. Emergency lights occasionally flickered at the ceiling, far above him.

Someone had removed his helmet. He didn't see his HUD, couldn't access his suit's diagnostics. His mouth felt dry and sore. He tasted copper.

He tried to move, but his feverish limbs felt too heavy, and his body cramped up with pain in protest, so he simply lay…wherever he lay.

Someone covered his body with a blanket. And he wasn't alone; another MJOLNIR-clad figure lay next to him, not even a meter away. Her helmet had been removed too, revealing a young, pale face. Her eyes were closed.

That was Spartan B312. Noble Six. He couldn't tell if she was breathing or not.

Now that he was slowly throwing off the tail-end of shock, he started to remember just what happened before everything went dark. The Brute, Atriox. The Master Chief, covering him as they dragged a limp Six up the tunnel. After that…nothing.

Where was he? There was gravity. Was this the Covenant ship? If so, why leave the two of them alone in here? What if some zealous Elite decided to barge in here and finish what the Brutes started?

He tried to speak, but his throat was sore and bruised. He couldn't get the words out.

But she answered him, nonetheless.

Stay still. Any movement on your part might end up killing you. Your Combat Skin kept you together, but barely so.

Alan slowly blinked, then turned his head slightly towards Six again. He blinked away the blurriness and spotted a couple of sleek consoles standing in-between them, the same colour as the floor beneath them.

All of a sudden, something bluish and black hovered into vision. It had several tentacular appendages sprouting from its body and was kept afloat by several pink bladders attached to its body.

An Engineer.

The creature uttered a strange, gurgling sound and floated towards him. One of its tentacles reached for the console and split into dozens of needle-thin fibre and it began fumbling with the machine.

It has been fourteen hours since the Warrior retrieved you from the surface and brought you here, I had to reroute power from your suit's generator to restart your heart at least five times during that time. We might need to replace it soon. As it is now, it would not last you a week. How you get by with a such an inefficient lump of meat is beyond me.

Fourteen hours? And they were still stuck in this system?

Why would your superiors augment your body, but leave your internal system so woefully delicate?

She sounded so captivated…about such an irrelevant detail. Shouldn't this just confirm what she already "knew"? How inferior humans were to her own creators?

Alan didn't think he would ever understand her.

The Engineer stopped working on the console and turned its attention to the prone Spartan-III. Alan felt his pulse quicken. What was that thing going to –

Do not concern yourself with the Huragok. My people designed it, we know how to control it. It has worked tirelessly to keep you and the young female from dying. In that, it proved to be a multitude more useful than the humans.

Both of them-?

Alan glanced down at his chest and saw that over half his suit had been removed. His entire torso had been laid bare, even the black undersuit was gone. Strangely enough, he didn't see any new scars.

Had an alien just saved his life? An alien created by the Forerunners? So the Engineers weren't part of the Covenant after all…whatever difference that made.

He made a mental note to inform ONI of this, before remembering that ONI attempted to assassinate him. He needed to do some cleaning in the Office when this was over…

He heard the electronic confirmation sound of a Covenant door opening, followed by light, careful footsteps.

Couple of seconds later, Commander Shepard walked into view.

That alarmed him. To have another Spartan see his exposed face was one thing, but Shepard? He didn't want her seeing him like this. He didn't want anyone seeing him like this, in fact. He had lived his entire life in the shadows. It was, at his core, who he was. Being dragged out into the light like this was hurtful, and Jane Shepard was blinding.

"Hey," she said, oblivious to his distress. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't have the vocabulary anymore to accurately describe how he was feeling.

"Guess you want to know what we're going to do next?" She continued when he didn't respond. "Those squid-thingies are trying to repair the ship's engines. Bad news is, those Banished have them too."

Then it was a race against the clock to see which Assault Carrier repaired first. They had to get the hell out of dodge and fast. There was no saying what the Master Builder could do while they searched for Millennia's mainframe.

The Commander stepped closer and Alan flinched. In the rare occasions he absolutely had to deal with other people, it was either from a distance or from a position of power. Here, it was the exact opposite, and didn't know how to handle it.

"The Master Chief wanted to know who she is," Shepard said, gesturing at the sleeping Noble Six. "They don't know her. So I guessed, they don't know you either, so maybe you…" She trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

Spartan-003 attempted to clear his throat. His lips were dry and his larynx felt like it was caked with dried blood on the inside.

The moment he did that, the Engi – the Huragok – gave a chirp cry and floated towards him, extending its tentacle towards his throat.

Millennia had said that these things could be trusted. Forerunner make, not Covenant. He didn't protest as the tip of the creature's tentacle split into a hundred needle-fine cilia and gentle embedded themselves within his skin, caressing the inside of his throat. If his heart survived this ordeal, it would survive whatever this galaxy had left to throw at him…

It felt like hours of torturous surgery, but in reality the Engineer prodded his larynx and finished in a couple of near-painless seconds. When it was done, Alan's throat didn't burn nearly as much, and the pressure he felt before was gone.

"I would presume that's classified," he whispered.

Jane crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him, her expression half surprise and half frustration. "The Reapers are about to return and burn this galaxy, and you're telling me things are still classified?"

"Look around. Relations are changing. Loyalties shifting. Unspoken animosities, hidden agendas. Decisions become more about personal gain, turning more into emotion than sense," Alan replied.

"Personal gain means nothing when reality comes crashing down," Shepard pointed out. "We're either going to fight together, or die divided. It's that simple."

Oh, he knew. It was the whole reason the Spartan-II's had been created. But in the end, as long as individualism existed, everybody wanted something for themselves. Humanity and the Insurrection. The Covenant and the Separatists and Loyalists. The asari and their rich inner circle, the Alliance and their Cerberus – not a single species out there was willing to sacrifice themselves for unification in the face of the greater good.

"Then we shall divided," the Spartan replied. "It took humanity everything it had and billions of casualties to unite." And even then, it failed on some level. "What makes you think the other species will?"

Shepard let her arms hang by her sides. She didn't appear at all bothered by his remark. "Because there is, objectively, no other choice. They'll unite against the Reapers, or they'll be wiped out. Money and power are useless when the Reapers win, and those powerful enough to be bothered by that, know it."

Her voice brokered no argument, but her emerald eyes almost dared him to keep this up. The Spartan decided not to. "We'll see."

"Yeah," she said, unwavering. "We will."

She held his gaze for a couple of long moments. Then, seemingly entirely on Jane's whims, the conversation went a full one-eighty the other direction and she was casual and friendly.

"Hell of a job you did, bringing her back up in one piece. Chief doesn't say much, but he's glad you found her. There's not a lot of Spartans left, these days."

Three was surprised to hear she knew about that. Spartans generally didn't talk about themselves to outsiders. Maybe the Chief –

Suddenly the deck shuddered underneath them. The emergency lights, running on what little backup power the ship still had left, flickered and dimmed.

"What was that?" Alan asked, glancing at Shepard.

The Commander shrugged. "Dunno. But I'm going to find out."

Spartan-003 braced himself to get up out of them makeshift stretcher, but stopped when two women began yelling at him.

Stay. Put.

"Don't move! I'm heading to the bridge, see what came up," Jane said, gesturing at him to lie back down again.

The ship trembled again, rolling through space as if something rammed it at high speed. Shepard had disappeared, leaving the two wounded Spartans alone again.

Alan cursed under his breath. There was always something.

He spent a couple of minutes listening in, trying to get some sense of what was going on while the Engineer continued to monitor the equipment.

That was when he heard a series of large explosions, way too close for his comfort. The Engineer gave a cry of surprise, but then got distracted

Noble Six stirred. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened.

"Millennia…" Alan groaned. "Get…get this thing to suit me up."

Keep your neurotrauma-induced rambling to yourself.

Her response was dismissive and distant. Like…well, like something just exploded in the ship. '

"What's going on?" Six whispered. She was sensible enough to stay put when she saw the Huragok, but she didn't take her eyes off it. "Is this…are we on a Covenant ship?"

Alan felt like all people asked him was "what's going on?" these days. Hell, he hadn't even pieced the whole thing together himself.

Nevertheless, he did his best to explain. "This ship brought us to Reach. We found what we were looking for, but the Reapers found us."

Six had a good mastery over her emotions, he had to admit. Her face didn't betray any of the confusion she must have been feeling. Her voice however, was a different matter. "These…Precursors?"

"Yes."

"Why aren't we running?"

"Because we got hit by an EMP."

She blinked. "Reapers got EMP's that can fry Covenant ships?"

"No."

"Then who - ?"

"A Forerunner."

He could see that she was starting to reach the same mental breakdown he had a while ago. The cogs were turning in her head, but they didn't connect the right way. "Forerunner…that scientist, doctor Halsey, she said their knowledge was our…our birthright, but…"

Our birthright…the sins of our fathers…

"Yes, I'm working on it." He closed his eyes again and tried to get his breathing under control. He felt exhausted. "Millennia, if we can't defend ourselves, we're dead. Tell…tell this thing to suit us up."

"Who are you talking to?" Six demanded.

"An AI."

"Smart? Dumb?"

"Forerunner."

She stared at him for a couple of seconds, obviously ill at ease. "I don't understand."

A stream of high-pitched chirps emanated from a corner-mounted speaker. The Huragok stopped what it was doing and veered towards him, pulling up pieces of his MJOLNIR's thoracic plating.

"I know," Alan replied. "I just roll with it."

-(++)—

Epsilon Eridani System

On-board Kerel-Pattern CAS-Class Assault Carrier Shadow of Intent.

After a couple of minutes running through the dark, purple corridors of the drifting Carrier, Commander Shepard arrived at the ship's bridge. The main door shad been left half open when the EMP hit, making it possible to wander the vessel while still leaving enough cover should the Banished board them.

Shepard squeezed through the gap between the two heavy doors and stepped onto the circular bridge. It was just like she left it; Elites standing behind every console, a pair of black-clad Special Forces flanking the Shipmaster as he frantically tried to fix the damage his ship sustained and of course, John standing next to said Shipmaster, quietly watching him do his work.

A pair of enormous Hunters watched the Chief from a distance. The behemoths stood ramrod straight, but somehow managed to make that look casual. Their armour was thick enough to shrug off anything short of a Thanix blast and the explosive damage from their assault cannons was bullshit, probably enough to put down a Mako in one hit.

The Commander would have thought twice of doing anything fishy on the bridge, had that been her intention. That was probably the point. Knowing John however, he wouldn't be too concerned.

" – and pull the remaining ones back!" The Shipmaster barked at one of his Elites. "Send a team to engineering at once!"

"What's going on?" Shepard asked. "Is it the Banished?"

The Shipmaster probably had a translation chip as well. Something like that, as he shot her a glance over his massive shoulder and growled, "A hostile fleet emerged on the outer edge of the system. They're engaging and my ship cannot defend itself!"

Yeah, I know how that feels, big guy, Shepard grimly thought. She didn't immediately respond, as one of the few active holographic displays showed her an image she was all too familiar with.

Deep black hulls with crisscrossing lines of redness. Five elongated tendrils and a long, tapered "head".

"A Reaper," she breathed. Adrenaline coursing through her, she turned to face the Shipmaster and said "We need to get out of here, now!"

"Sangheili do not run from fights, human!" The Elite snapped.

"The ship's still dead in the water," John told her. "Shields, weapons and propulsion are still down."

"Why – "

The ship rumbled again.

Shipmaster 'Vadum slammed his fist into the console in front of him, growling. "Tell the Huragok to work faster! We survived Halo, we survived the Parasite and we will survive this!"

Halo? The Parasite?

The Shipmaster spoke of those two like they were somehow the bigger achievement than surviving the goddamn Reapers. But the thing was, the Chief used to speak of similar subjects just like that. When the Elites and the UNSC had teamed up together, what the hell were they fighting that made the Reapers look like a secondary concern?

Explosions rumbled through the lower decks. One of the Elites turned away from his console, yelling, "Shipmaster! Enemy vessels breached the port hangar!"

Jane shot an alarmed look at the Chief. They had left their wounded in the port hangar!

"Our forces are engaging the enemy!" Another Elite called.

"Move one of our drones into position. Get a team ready to repel boarders!"

Millennia's avatar materialized from one the consoles, similar to how Cortana used to do that moments before taking control of a situation.

"A Reaper has attached itself to this ship. It is attempting a hack," she calmly said. "Countered. Remove the physical nuisance yourself."

Shepard only ever heard the Intelligence speak with barely restrained rage or contempt. Right now, she looked as serene and composed as Cortana did.

A stark contrast to how the Commander felt. The AI just informed them all that a Reaper had attached itself to the ship's hull! That was a two-kilometre Dreadnought that could brainwash people with its thoughts, trying to dig them out, and it was likely sending an army of Husks into the very place they put the two fallen Spartans.

""Reaper filth…" Vadum hissed. "Reinforce the Huragok in engineering! We must have power!"

John nodded at her, pulling out his rifle. "Blue Team's moving into position, but they're encountering resistance.. We should hurry."

"Don't need to tell me twice."

-(++)—

The cavernous hangar bay was filled with the sounds of gunfire, plasma discharging and roars as the Separatist defenders clashed with the Reaper forces. Without the Carrier's tremendous shields to protect it, these Reaper things managed to blast their way through the bulkheads that separated the hangar from the cold vacuum of space.

On the far end of the port hangar, enemy forces poured through the large holes that the Reapers had created. Fred had heard the stories about the abominations that the Citadel theatre had to offer. Stories about Collectors and Husks and how the Reapers used them to do their bidding. The things that came pouring through, however, were even worse than he imagined.

Bloated monstrosities rushed through the breaches, screaming at the defenders through gaping, white-glowing maws. Their brown-red hides were marked by rings of blue and their bodies were covered with enormous, tumorous growths that protruded from their shoulders and necks. They opened fire with large, glowing cannons that seemed fused to their arms, much like Hunter cannons.

These "Husks" ran into a venerable wall of plasma fire as Elites, Grunts and Hunters took up superior positions with good cover. Whatever the Reapers did to the people they once kidnapped, didn't render them immune to fire. The plasma burned through their unarmoured hides with ease, burning large, gaping holes that put them down with relative ease.

"Cleansing flame!" A red-clad Elite yelled, before flinging a plasma grenade into the fray, vaporizing several Husks at once.

But there were so many of them. All across the bulkheads, a hundred meters to the left and the right, the Husks poured through. The Elites in command positioned Hunters all the way on the front, allowing them to take the brunt of the attack. The monsters' eight-centimeter thick armour proved to be near invulnerable to the Reaper forces, while they obliterated entire clusters of them with well-placed shots.

The volume of Husks made the Spartan wonder how many aliens these Reapers had already taken. He read the files on the Collectors, understood how these things worked, but the Reapers had only had a couple of days max to set this up. Just how fast did they work?

Fred waved Kelly towards the left flank. Moments later, Linda confirmed that she was in position and he gave the order to engage.

Perhaps a heartbeat later, the Husks that managed to get into cover – strewn our ammo crates, dropships and staging facilities – began falling as 12,7mm rounds tore them apart.

Fred sighted in on one of the Husks and put a short burst of 7,62mm rounds through its head, blowing the upper part of its skull off. As the abomination fell, however, two more rushed from their cover and throw themselves atop their fallen ally.

Fred watched with a modicum of disgust as the two Husks began devouring the body of their fallen comrade, shoving whole fistfuls of mottled, glowing meat into their maws.

The Spartan-II didn't like that at all. He pocketed a plasma grenade, primed and threw it. The resulting flash of plasma blew all three of the freaks away.

"Be advised, hostiles might break cover to eat their fallen," he told the Spartans over TEAMCOM. "Prioritize those if possible."

It was standard procedure; if the enemy wanted something, you denied them that. If these things were willing to break cover and risk enemy fire to consume their comrades, they had something to gain from that.

"These things don't even wait until after the battle to remind me of Brutes," Kelly commented.

Fred didn't think that was it. There was something to these things' tactics, something that reminded him too much of the stories that John told them. Stories about horrors entombed within Halo. Were the Reapers somehow connected to these things?

"At least they die easy enough," he replied. His rifle clicked empty and he swiftly dropped the empty mag, slapped a new one in place and cycled the chamber. A second later he resumed firing.

Linda didn't comment. Knowing her, she had likely climbed up to the highest level, slipped into her serene state of mind and couldn't even hear them.

"Blue-Two, friendlies coming from your three o'clock," John's voice came over the COM. Moments later, something began tearing into the Reaper's forces from the right flank. Plasma and mass accelerator fire slammed into the Husks that had taken cover, cutting them down. A ball of Biotic energy appeared in the middle of a cluster of the cannibalistic monsters. Somehow, the field of dark-blue energy began dragging them towards the sphere in the middle. The Husks flailed wildly, screeching and roaring, but they were helpless before the barrage of plasma fire that tore into them.

To top it off, another bolt of Biotic energy was flung right into the centre of the gravitational anomaly and the whole thing exploded violently, hurling charred body parts all over the hangar.

Hell of an entrance, Fred thought, knowing that Shepard just entered the hangar.

That got the Elites' attention. To them, the display of Biotic talent must have been a sacred ability or something, as they heralded it with an enthusiasm he'd seldom seen before.

Strangely enough, Fred could relate to that. Jane Shepard was a very impressive woman. Energy shields blocked most Biotic, but only the Elites used those during the war. One of those gravity fields could have dragged an entire phalanx of Jackals into the air, rendering them helpless. How different would the war have been if humanity had had access to Biotics? Or kinetic barriers, or Element Zero?

Again, the ship rumbled underneath the Spartan's feet. This time however, Fred recognized it. He also recognized the lights that suddenly illuminated the hangar bay and the doors around them that closed, locked, then unlocked.

"Warriors!" The deep voice of Shipmaster 'Vadum rumbled through the speakers. "The ship is coming back online! Fall back to your designated zones and remain vigilant!"

A Waypoint appeared on Fred's HUD, highlighting one of the hallways on the ground floor. He confirmed this with the rest of Blue team, but John and Shepard had a different fallback location assigned to them.

Fred thought that was odd, but since the Chief didn't comment on it, he wouldn't either. He, together with Kelly and Linda, fell back to the hallway they had been assigned.

"With the power back up, the Shipmaster's going to want some payback," Kelly said as she covered them with quick bursts of assault rifle fire.

"Let's see how these Reapers stack up to an Assault Carrier," Fred replied. "Link up with the Chief.

-(++)—

Secondary reactor complex operating at maximum efficiency. Primary generator coming online. Main systems rebooting.

Shields online.

Weapon systems online.

Sensors online.

Engines nominal.

The Construct crossed her arms over her chest as she beheld the sudden influx of data from all major systems. She seemed content.

Rtas 'Vadum wasn't content. He was ecstatic; the Shadow of Intent was alive and these Reapers would rue the day they challenged the might of a Sangheili vessel of war.

"Warriors!" Rtas ordered through his intercom. "The ship is coming back online! Fall back to your designated zones and remain vigilant!" Then, to his bridge crew, he roared, "Get me targeting solutions for our energy projectors and plasma lines! This Reaper has overstayed his welcome!"

His officers were eager to shed blood. They had the Intent's twenty-four Mictix-pattern heavy plasma cannons warmed in a matter of seconds. All seven of the torpedo silos that ran across the Carrier's flank facing the Reaper glowed an angry red.

The shields had reached enough strength that the Reaper could not hold onto the Intent anymore. It lost its traction. Thus repulsed, it now faced the Assault Carrier's full might.

"Burn it," Growled Rtas.

Seven boiling lines of crimson light erupted from the ship's side. With all the wrath of a newborn star, the plasma torpedoes splashed across the Reaper's frame, boiling through its hull and spraying plumes of molten metal into space.

Its outlines visible for a split-second before it exploded, falling towards the human planet.

"That was satisfying," the Forerunner spoke. "Prepare for a Slipspace jump. I will provide the coordinates."

"Shipmaster!" The Sangheili at navigations barked. "Remaining Reapers are opening fire!"

On his screens, several beams of burning light splashed across the Intent's repulse engines. But the Carrier's shields had reached their full apex of strength and its silvery might repelled all that the Reapers threw at them without wavering.

In return, the Construct unleashed the two Urpeon-pattern plasma lances, spearing two of the Reaper capital ships as they attempted a second salvo. Meanwhile, all seven-hundred pulse laser turrets discharged. Individually, these pulse lasers would not have harmed the Reaper too severely. But when the seven-hundred lights flared, the Reaper burned.

"I see why she would want to index your species," the Construct muttered as she directed the eight Luxor -pattern energy projectors towards her prey. "It is regrettable you had to encounter the San'Shyum."

"Yes Holy One," Rtas replied. "They have led our people astray. They have the blood of billions of innocents on their hands. In our need for repentance, we turned to the Master Builder, so that we could fight for peace."

"Repentance…peace…" she muttered. The Sangheili Shipmaster the viewscreen in silence, watching as she made short work of the other Reapers with the Intent's vast arsenal.

He had heard that the humans allied themselves with artificial beings. Computer constructs with a vast intellect but no physical body. He always thought of this as a weakness. It wasn't until the Ark until he understood that it was a sign of strength.

The Covenant had conquered their allies. The UNSC had created theirs. It seemed that the Forerunners and the humans were more alike than anyone had thought.

"The Slipspace capacitors are fully charged," Rtas said. "On your command?"

But the AI stared at the data streaming through the console, as if lost in thought. "I wonder…"

"Holy One? The Slipspace drive is ready. The Banished have already left."

"Yes…" she remarked. "I suppose so."

The Shadow of Intent's Slipspace drive opened a blue-black portal in front of it. The engines flared, and the Assault Carrier, accompanied by the decrepit dragon, left through the rupture.

-(++)—

19:23 Hours, June 16, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar) / CAS-Class Assault Carrier Shadow of Intent, in Slipspace, location unknown

The Chief didn't see much difference between the Collectors and the Reaper ground forces. The former had bigger heads, while the latter were a lot more ugly, but they both came apart with a healthy dose of 7,62mm rounds or plasma bolts.

Superior numbers might have been a problem on the Collector Base, where Shepard's crew had limited ammo and cover, but in this Carrier the Covenant reigned supreme. The Separatists had the numbers, the cover and above all, the firepower to match to go toe-to-toe with the wave of Husks and come out on top. For all their experience and cunning, the Reapers were not prepared at all for a ground war with the Covenant.

The Reaper boarding action came to a sudden, violent halt, like a Mongoose driver plowing into a Hunter. The expected tactics of terror and chaos proved to be completely useless in the face of Blue Team and Shepard, several Elite SpecOp teams and a lot of well-armed, well-positioned fireteams.

To the Chief's surprise, Three and the Spartan they found on Reach were up and at them, too. They had provided covering fire from prone positions, behind the Covenant lines.

That Three had been moving was something he hadn't expected. Back on Reach, the Spartan endured damage that would have incapacitated a SPARTAN-II. Yet he had still been moving when, by all rights, he should have slipped into a coma.

That suggested different augmentations. Ones that the II's had not been administered. Why? And did this other Spartan have them as well?

After the ship came back online, the Chief took a moment to assess the situation. The casualties on the Separatists side were few; only a couple of Grunts KIA. Some wounded.

"Sound off," John ordered.

A second later, all members of Blue Team had flashed their green acknowledgement lights. They were good to go.

For a moment, the Chief considered putting Three in his place for jeopardizing himself like that. Blue Team had fought like hell to keep him stable long enough for those Engineers to get to him and even then, he had been hanging on by a thread. The last thing any of them needed was for him to get himself killed.

Still, he decided against it. He was sure that Millennia would give the Spartan more than an earful about her discontent.

While the Master Chief and Commander Shepard, accompanied by Fred, Linda and Kelly, made their way back to the bridge, the Shadow of Intent made short work of the Reapers in the system. John didn't know if the Banished managed to get out in time or if they got caught up in the Reaper attack. Either way, he hoped he wouldn't run into them again. Things were difficult enough already.

"When the Covenant make things, they make them big, don't they?" Shepard commented as the team wandered through the long complex of passageways. "Joker could have dogfights with the Normandy in there."

The Master Chief mentally reviewed his response, filtering out any classified details before replying. "Near the end of the war, this ship ferried UNSC Frigates around."

"No shit? You mean those Cruiser-sized Frigates?"

"Yes."

"A Carrier that carries Frigates…" She shook her head, her expression bemused. "You'd think I would get used to that by now?"

"The Covenant kept surprising us late in the war as well," Fred retorted. "Three decades into the war and they kept pulling out new things."

John had missed this. He felt like he had been drifting the past few weeks. There was a blackness inside of him, an emptiness that even a reunion with his surviving brothers and sisters couldn't fill. He had never felt truly hopeless in his life, not even when Reach fell, but…he didn't realize how little hope he had left until he met Three and Millennia Never Falling.

Without Jane, it was likely he would have compartmentalized the loss of Cortana. Without his time spent on the Normandy, he would have ignored everything he felt, breaking his promise to Cortana in in doing so.

Can you promise me that? Please?

"I was plenty surprised when I encountered them on the Migrant Fleet," Shepard replied. "Did the Chief tell you about the quarians?"

"We've read the Codex," Kelly said. Her tone was a bit sour, enough that John picked up on it. The last time they dealt with Elites was on this Forerunner world, Onyx. Back then. the Elites were still enemies. They didn't have an Arbiter, or an N'tho and Usze.

They didn't have the Normandy's crew. They didn't see how utterly loyal Garrus was, or how wise Samara was. They didn't see the finesse and grace of Thane, the unbridled enthusiasm of Grunt.

They didn't see how human Tali was.

After all of this was over, maybe the UNSC would attach them as a strike team aboard the Normandy. Now that the Reapers had returned, Shepard's name and reputation were all but cleared. Even with Millennia's help, the galaxy wouldn't stand a chance unless they united against the Reaper threat.

Shepard was the only one who could do that. John honestly believed that. And that made the appearance of that ONI strike team all the stranger. Trying to take out what they believed to be a rogue Spartan made sense. But shifting that aggression towards Shepard? A team led by a II would be more professional, more disciplined.

It was clear that the asari weren't the only ones scheming in the darkness.

They reached the bridge half an hour later. Contrary to the chaotic scene he first witnessed upon arriving, Shipmaster 'Vadum and his crew now seemed calm and serene as they went about their business.

"Shipmaster!" Shepard proclaimed, shaking up several Sangheili from their concentration. "That was awesome. It took the entire Citadel fleet to destroy just one of those monsters. You basically turned eight of them into your bitches!"

'Vadum stared at the female, looking confused. As far as the Master Chief was aware, no human had ever complimented him before.

"The Reapers merely offer steel that melts and soldiers that die," Rtas said dismissively.

Millennia's avatar appeared next to the Shipmaster. "It is too soon to celebrate. We are missing something of utmost importance."

"Missing something?" The Chief repeated.

"Sovereign once said that all civilizations are based on technology of the Mass Relays," Shepard said. "The Reapers' tech. He said that our societies develop along the paths the Reapers desire. Now they're dealing with something they didn't foresee and it bit them in the ass, hard."

Was it that simple? Was the development of civilizations outside of the Reaper cycles really so detrimental to their tactical operations?

"Perhaps," Millennia replied. "Or perhaps it is something far more devious, something we have yet to perceive. It matters little. We are about to transition."

"Already?" Fred asked. "Surely it couldn't have been that close?"

"To my people, crossing interstellar distances was a matter of hours, if not minutes," the AI replied. She sounded just like Cortana did when she boasted of her capabilities. Prideful, if a bit arrogant. "Behold, the fruit of our labours."

The bridge lights flickered and darkness filled the arc of displays around the bridge. Stars winked into existence.

A second later, the Shadow of Intent had scanned the entirety of the system they just entered. Data streamed across the Shipmaster's display and a three-dimensional holographic image of the system appeared by his side.

Kelly stepped towards the image, scanning it. She was silent for a couple of seconds, then…

"Where is it?"

The Chief bowed over the screen, observing the Intent's scan of the system. Apart from a thin asteroid belt, there was nothing. The entire system was empty.

"There's isn't even a star?" Jane commented. "That can't be right."

"Data checks out," Fred replied, reaching out into the holographic projection and spinning it around. "Unless it's really small? Did we miss it?"

"It cannot possibly be missed," Millennia replied. "Scan it again."

Shipmaster 'Vadum issued the order, but he didn't seem too sure about it. "We scanned the system meticulously, Holy One. This is the place."

"There's nothing here," said Kelly. "Are we sure the information is solid?"

"It was unfalsifiable and impossible to interpret wrongly," the AI replied, anger rising in her voice again. "It should be here."

"Maybe it was destroyed at the end of the war with the Flood?" Fred suggested to her. "It was worth a shot. We should link up with the UNSC. They need to know that the Reapers and the Banished are aware of Reach's location. Earth may not be safe."

John barely heard him. He stared at the empty screen. From the corner of his eye, he caught Jane staring at him, a hint of regret in her eyes.

Silently, Millennia's avatar flickered out of existence.

"John…" Linda spoke up over a private channel. Her voice sounded like it came from underwater. Far away. "We'll find another way. Maybe doctor Halsey knows…?"

The Master Chief didn't respond. He just stared at the image of the empty system, trying to make sense of this. He struggled to rise above the his emotions and expectations. Was there really another way? With tens of thousands of Reapers about to descend upon the galaxy?

Without Cortana?

He just didn't know anymore.

-(++)-

Codex / Humanity and the United Nations Space Command / The Joint Engineering Doctrine

The Joint Engineering Doctrine is an ongoing program that sees cooperation in the development and integration of new and existing technological achievements between the Turian Hierarchy, the Migrant Fleet and the Unified Earth Government.

As the UEG, the Alliance and the other Council species are centred around differing paths of technological development, it did not take long for the governments to recognize the importance of cooperation in the development and manufacturing of new and existing technologies. ÙEG President Doctor Ruth recognized the importance of integrating the mass effect into everyday UEG technology in the aftermath of the devastating Human-Covenant War, while the Citadel Council acknowledged the importance of a civilization not bound by the Mass Relays or Element Zero.

Negotiations with the Migrant Fleet and the Turian Hierarchy saw the proposal of a large-scale cultural and technological exchange program. To prevent any potential leaks of military secrets, all parties agreed to share technological achievements that are considered widespread and easy to develop among their respective civilizations, such as omni-tools, mass accelerator rifles, sterile field generators and the possible development of "Dumb Artificial Intelligences", the latter of which is still hotly contested in Council space.