A/N: This is how it all got started.

"Landing LZ is hot, make ready, talon brothers." The voice of the dropship pilot was almost garbled with nervous sub-harmonics, the ship vibrating with the GTS fire from the human city below.

The five armored figures within the ship were all carefully checking weapons, examining armor, and putting on helmets. Their armor was heavy, angular, black, decorated with bright white paint in the symbols of the Turian Hierarchy, but over their right chest was a golden turian sigil, the mark of the Primarch.

On their helmets, in red paint, was a turian fist limned in an aura. Red runes beneath it spelled out the words 'PRIMARCH'S FIST.'

The largest of the figures was a giant, a full head taller than his companions, even seated. His hands carefully checked the fittings on his battle armor, his mandibles clicking in satisfied pleasure. "Everyone, check your amps, we have no margin of error on this operation. Turian High Command says that we have some monkey willing to sell us the location of the human Commander in return for concessions once we conquer the planet. This mess of a pacification has gone on too long, and we stop it now."

The turian to his left flicked his mandibles. "And the exact mission?"

Tetrimus smiled. "We get in, find this General Williams, strike hard, kill him and his command staff, and get out. Drop a locator beacon on the way out and the fleet bombards the command center once we're clear."

The other four nod solemnly, finishing their pre-battle checks, examining rifles, checking spare grenades and sidearms. Tetrimus checked his own weapon, slotting in a new ammo block and making sure the heatsink was clean and free of debris before compacting the weapon and clipping it to his back. He ran a nervous hand over his fringe as the dropship began its final descent.

"Havoc packs, power up. Santar, once we're down, put up a barrier north, Valkin, west, Cortha, east, Trann, south. We'll recon and move north once we're secure."

Again, the heads nodded, and one of them spoke. "Got it, Tetrimus. Any idea of the resistance we'll be facing?"

Tetrimus shook his head. "Scattered recon reports of snipers, little else is for certain. The human traitor says the command center isn't heavily defended to avoid drawing attention to it, but there are ground defenses." He paused, thinking. "Orbital recon shows GTS systems – if those are any indicator, then the area they cover could be holding as much as a battalion on the ground. The 45th and 46th Heavy Assault are moving in from the south to draw defenders away, so we should have a straight run, Valkin."

Cortha grunted. "Worst-case, a spirits-be-damned nightmare. Best-case? Fifteen or twenty soldiers on the ground in the building itself. Let's hope for the best and if it goes bad, they'll learn to fear the Fist."

Valkin rolled his shoulders and slammed his helmet onto his head. "For Palaven, then." Even as he spoke, the dropship lurched alarmingly, a heavy blast of fire sending the turians inside reeling.

The pilot's voice was half-panicked. "We've taken a hit on the port engine. It won't land safely. Jump now, I'll… draw their fire." A pause, and his voice hardened. "Victory, at any cost."

Tetrimus exhaled and nodded. "Die for the cause, talon brother."

Without further words, he kicked the hatch open, triggering the jump-pack on his back as he leapt from the side of the craft, falling freely. The vista below him was terrifying; the alien contours of the human city, all angular and almost robotic, were framed in the hell-light of weapons fire.

Human battle vehicles roared forward north of him to meet the charging advance of turian soldiers, rockets and accelerator fire lancing back-and-forth in sprays of blinding blue and silver. The dropship was spraying chaff and ECM drones in all directions to cover them even as it accelerated away, trailing flames and smoke.

He glanced up, relieved to see the rest of his unit following him, and a moment later was blinded by the flash of an explosion, their dropship being struck in multiple places by GTS fire before coming apart in a tumbling shower of debris.

Tetrimus spared a moment to pray for the spirit of their pilot, closing his eyes. He then focused his attention down, triggering the havoc control rockets in the armor to slow his fall, augmenting that with a biotic field to lighten his mass and cushion the impact of touchdown.

He came down in a roll, snapping to a kneeling stance, even as the rest of his cabal landed. Movement on the perimeter drew his sharp vision, and without hesitation he lashed out with pure biotic force, a lance of sheer mass smashing into the running target. The human staggered and was slammed from their feet to the ground, blood spurting from their smashed chest amid a tangle of protruding bones.

The other turians were putting up barriers now, making a protective shell, and Tetrimus consulted his omni-tool's map. The human command center was very near, and the attack on the city seemed to have drawn off any adversaries. With a hand motion, he moved, the cabal following, armored fists alight with biotic power.

They moved from the open field they landed in to the shadow of human buildings, all blocky and done in sterile stainless steel, covered in bizarre images. Plants were carefully arranged near entrances, and a few ground cars were parked nearby.

A pair of dead humans lie slumped against the building, both looking emaciated and drawn. One was dead by his own hand, the pistol limp in his grip, the other human appeared to have expired from several shots to the torso. Tetrimus ignored them, scanning the rough dirt path that passed for a street, and the cabal moved on.

A side street opened up, and the team moved close together, keeping low. A human soldier, clad only in BDUs, perhaps off-duty, stepped out into the open. His rifle he leaned against the nearby wall, closing his eyes as he listened to reports of the fighting on his omni-tool. Tetrimus made a motion to Valkin, who performed a biotic charge. The heavy bulk of the turian slammed into the soldier, sending him to the ground, and Valkin pounced down, his talon knife slashing the man's throat open.

Strange, red, alien fluid sprayed messily, and the man was still. Valkin absently wiped his knife on the man's uniform. The cabal checked in all directions, and began moving again, the sound of their passing nearly silent.

For a few minutes, all was calm, moving carefully from cover to cover. The sound of the firefight in the distance grew louder, more intense. Tetrimus glanced around, and the squad broke cover to move down a properly paved street. The city loomed over them, boxy buildings and colony modules stacked almost haphazardly, casting increasingly long shadows as the sun begins to set.

Rounding the edge of a large building with wide-set windows, Cortha froze. "Motion, north as the shanthra flies."

He pointed off to the right, where several human armored vehicles were parked, and a small number of men in armor milled about. Tetrimus pulled up the magnification HUD on his armor, peering in that direction.

It took him long seconds to translate the curvy human script and understand its meaning. "That's it. That's their command center. Get ready."

The five turians checked their weapons again, bringing full power to their kinetic shields. Valkin adjusted the sash of grenades, and Santar clipped on a shredder mod to the powerful submachine gun he carried in addition to the Lanistron rifle on his back. Trann unrolled a small shoulder sash, marked with the colony insignia of his dead wife, draping it around the curve of his armor's neck.

Tetrimus inhaled deeply, and nodded. "For Palaven, and the end to this ridiculous conflict."

The five erupted from cover, firing as they go. Humans jerked around in shock, but even as they did so, shockwaves from Valkin and Cortha burst forth, hurling them back bonelessly to slam against the walls of the nearby building. Two more humans moved up, firing light rifles, but Santar was prepared, his barrier deflecting their shots harmlessly before he angled it horizontally. The field pushed outwards, a razor-sharp blade bisecting the two humans a second later, their bodies collapsing to the ground.

Tetrimus skidded and leapt over a low wall, summoning his energies. He focused, biotic energies lifting three humans with weapons from their feet helplessly, then warped the field with a motion of his hand. Biotic light flashed, white on blue, and the field detonated, tearing the warriors apart in a wave of blood and body parts. As he turned away, Trann threw a heavy warp, catching a human dead-on. The human's armor literally unraveled as he screamed in agony, flesh sloughing from his face and bones shattering under the biotic power, before slumping to the ground in a puddle of red blood.

The turians were past the sentries now, and there were sounds of running feet. More humans in blue and white armor stormed out of the building, rifles raised, and Tetrimus coiled biotic energy around his fist. His signature biotic power was called the 'Spear,' and he demonstrated it now, radiant blue lines of shining force lancing out to slam into several humans.

Two of them were hit directly, and the lines detonated into warp explosions and cascades of shockwaves, sending biotic power scattering in all directions like an out of control tidal wave. Men flew through the air, screaming, or were hurled to the ground and walls with broken, shattered limbs. Cortha fired repeatedly, aiming to wound and slow, and for each target he hit, Trann followed up with vicious, targeted biotic throws, pushing humans into other humans, tangling them.

Santar calmly tossed a grenade into an open door, and half turned to fire his SMG at point-blank range into two soldiers coming through it. The rounds tore into the men, sending them stumbling back, just as the grenade went off, hurling them back through the doorway, smoldering. One was dead, the other stirred slightly until Santar coldly slammed the sharpened heel of his battle armor's boot through the human's faceplate.

With a grunt of effort, Valkin wrapped his biotics around a nearby pallet of heavy looking boxes, sending them soaring into the group of soldiers trying to form a defense near the building's entrance. The crates, all sharp and metallic, slammed into the men, knocking some down, scattering their formation. Cortha and Tetrimus erupted into blue light and biotically charged forward, Tetrimus impacting with a human with enough force to cause the man to fly apart, gore flying in all directions. Cortha's target was hurled to the ground, only for Cortha to let go with a full burst from the battle rifle in his hands right in the man's chest.

Santar killed two more human soldiers, both with a single singularity and some gun play, while Trann blocked a kick from a human female, counterstriking with a punch to her unarmored throat that sent her to the ground choking and turning red.

Tetrimus motioned with his hand to the open door. "Santar, guard our exit.

The other turian nodded, unclasping the sniper rifle from his back and dropping into a crouch. The others went into the building itself, its corridors just as angular and bare as the outside. Tetrimus peered about, then motioned the group forward, down the main hallway. They advanced swiftly, weapons ready, and came to the end of the hallway, which terminated in massive steel doors shut fast.

Cortha sniffed. "Locked, probably. I got it, stand back."

He dropped into a focus pose, building his biotic energy and anchoring himself, and then opened his hands almost delicately. A bright arc of biotic energy pushed outwards like a slow-moving bubble, unsteadily rolling along until it hit the door, and then it burst into a flash of light and booming sound. The shriek of tortured metal was combined with panicked screams from within the room as the doors flew back, one slamming into a pair of humans and reducing them to spatters under its bulk.

The team rushed in, each cabalist hurling shockwaves to suppress return fire. Biotic waves raced through the room, slamming humans aside or against consoles, shattering limbs and knocking weapons askew. Nine humans were in the room, gathered around a comm-link table, four of whom were down and unmoving. None of them were armored, and only a few had weapons.

Cortha and Trann were already in motion, quick shots to the head to kill the survivors of the combined shockwaves, while Valkin headed to the computer station on the wall, activating his omni-tool.

Tetrimus quickly scanned the faces and his mandibles flickered under his helmet. None of these humans was General Williams. Even as he realized this, the comm-link table flickered, and a blue hologram materializes on its surface. "So, looks like our little trap worked, eh, skullface?"

Tetrimus's eyes widened in horror, as there is a massive explosion outside the building, and a single pained turian scream cut off suddenly. The man in the hologram smiles coldly. "We figured we had a goddamned traitor in our ranks somewhere, some slime who valued alien money over his or her damned species, and it looks like we were right. Looks like there's one in your ranks too."

Tetrimus hurled a spear of warpfire at the console, shattering it, and brought his barrier up as tight as he can. "Valkin, drop a drone pack, Trann, Cortha, shearing left and right – we have to get clear."

Sounds of pounding footfalls outside echoed through the room, and the four turians gather themselves. Valkin tapped commands rapidly into his omni-tool and deposited a small package from his belt onto the floor. "Ready."

Tetrimus nodded, and flung his Power at the door, but even as he did, he heard a beeping noise. He barely has time to realize that the locator beacon to indicate the team was clear and to trigger the orbital bombardment has been activated remotely before panic seizes him.

"MOVE! GET OUT!"

He had no more time to speak, as there was light, and then, the unmistakable sound of kinetic impactors, and a hard blast of pain.

O-O-O

Tetrimus awoke to pain. His body ached in many places, and in others – his legs, his arms – he felt nothing. He tried to move or open his eyes, but his muscles did not obey.

His breath catches as he inhales – the muted scent of burned flesh, the crisp, lightning-ozone taint of medical nanites, the hint of corrupted and rotted flesh, and something else he couldn't pin down.

A second later, a rumbling voice echoed in the room, deep and basso. "Good. You survived. Undo the constrictor field."

There was a tingling sensation across his chest and lower body, and his muscles spasmed in pain before relaxing. He coughed several times before finding his voice, which came out strained. "Where… am I?"

He could not feel his left mandible. Or open his eyes.

The voice was somehow both threatening and reassuring. "You are on a human vessel. My asset in the Hierarchy managed to get you aboard after the turian fleet opened fire on your locator beacon. The Primarch has claimed your team's failure was due to you betraying the turian people."

Tetrimus's mind could not accept the words. He knew what they meant, but together they made no sense. "Why… the entire landing was a trap, baited by humans…?"

The voice gives a rumbling chuckle. "Indeed. The Primarch needed a reason to bring out a larger pacification force. And, of course, a reason to curb the influence of the cabalists, since your Primarchs Fist cabal had shamed his own elites in suppressing the humans and destroying their attempts at resistance. Your father's political machinations to back Fedorian were the final straw."

A long pause, then the voice speaks again. "Your entire family has been killed with the exception of one of your cousins already in the cabals. Your children were executed by the thasvar and hung from the heels as a mark of shame."

Horror and agony and confusion raced through his mind, as his body struggled and twitched. With a grimace of pain, he forced himself upwards, and one eye opened.

He was in a tiny medical room, packed with turian medical equipment. A pair of medical mechs stood to either side of the bed he was in, working steadily at attaching a cybernetic leg to the ruins of his body. Directly across from him was a single haptic viewscreen, showing nothing but a hulking outline of a being cast in shadow.

The image flickered as the being raised a massive hand. "You were left for dead. Your team is all dead. Your legs were blown off, your arms and body burned, and the left side of your face is a ruin. If not for my intervention, you would have died, Tetrimus Rakora."

"…Why save me…? I am nothing now. My family… my boys… my mate!" His voice rose into a snarl. "WHY SAVE ME?!"

The rumbling voice sounded almost gleeful. "Because it is within my power to grant that which you need. Revenge. Revenge against a Primarch who has gotten many of your race killed over a simple mistake, who has used your family as a playing piece, who has spat on the honor and duty you gave your entire life over to. What has the Hierarchy done to deserve your service?"

The voice deepened. "They have enslaved you. They enslaved your mate, trapped your young sons to a fate of third-class citizens, and now, murdered everyone you love. They have gotten your cabal killed over petty political intrigue, and the sad fact is that if your Primarch is not stopped, your race will be destroyed when they overreach themselves."

Tetrimus slumped back, streaks of pain shooting up his body as the mechs cut away something. A cold feeling suffused his right side, like metal flowing through his body. "Who… are you…?"

The figure's head-shape rose. "I am the Shadow Broker. I need a figure of terror and fear, a Hand to go where I cannot. You are the most skilled biotic the turians have ever created, and their fear of your power, their fear of your father's influence, their fear of losing face for their own mistakes, has taken everything from you.

"They required you to suffer, to be enslaved. To trap yourself in the wrappings of duty and honor and valor – of which you were never rewarded the fruits of, only the pains. They asked you to endure, to suffer, to be apart from that which you protected."

Tetrimus slowly nodded at that.

The voice gave a rasping laugh. "I require no such thing. I only require you to serve… and you will be rewarded."

There was a period of silence, punctuated only by the quiet whirr of the mechs and the faint sounds of flesh and bone being removed. Then the turian lifted his shattered visage.

"I want the Primarch dead. I want to kill his children and murder his family. And then I want the entire Hierarchy to pay, and pay, and pay. If you can…" He trailed off into coughing, trickles of blue blood seeping from his mouth, and grimaced, his battered mandible flicking out. "If you can give me that, I will serve you forever."

The hulking image nodded. "Then rest and recover, Tetrimus Rakora. When you awake, we will meet in-person. And you will see how I reward my servants."

O-O-O

The sky was a thousand shades of battered blue, bruised purple, and the red of burning ruin. Tetrimus stared into its depths, one hand on the curved black polymer cane that was his iconic calling card, the other hooked into his belt.

He inhaled deeply, the wind carrying a myriad of scents to his mind. His sharp hearing picked up the scrape of armored boots on steel and he half turned, silhouetted against the sunset.

"You are late."

The smaller turian standing behind him gave a small bow, arms crossed over the chest. "I was delayed, Ginnister. But no matter. Your request is done." The turian pulled out a small steel box, sealed with omni-gel tapes. "Unless there are eggs far off the spoor, the entire line of Rathis lies dead."

Tetrimus nodded slowly, turning all the way around. "After all these years…" He clenched his fist and exhaled, letting the memories spill over him.

The smell of his mate as she leaned over him in the grasses of Thatha. The awe that shook his limbs as he held his twin sons in his arms, each one tiny enough to fit in his hands. The pride that washed over him as the crowds thundered their approval and the Palavanus themselves decorated his cabal.

And then darkness, and he let the memories go. His voice was calm, emotionless. "And Fedorian? Did he interfere?"

The other turian shrugged. "…The Primarch deliberately removed Blackwatch security teams from the Rathis Family compound before my team even got there. I believe he understands the… message you sent."

Tetrimus's laugh was icy. "Very well. Now there is only one last thing to do."

The other turian looked up at him and flicked his mandibles. "I suppose I am a loose end, then?"

Tetrimus's single red cybernetic eye stared for long moments at the younger turian, then he softly tapped his cane once. "You have served me well. For that, unlike the worthless tarks I once served, I can allow myself one instance of… mercy. It is the last I will ever dispense. Do not make me regret it."

The other turian looked up at him, and slowly nodded. "…I came expecting to die, you know. My mate is dead, my children lost in the Relay 314 Incident. This revenge was as much for my own sake as yours, and… what do I do now?"

Tetrimus turned his back on him, staring at the endless expanse of sky once more. "Hate. That is all that remains to me. And this is why I spare you."

There is a long moment of silence before the other turian gave an ugly, pained laugh. "You are more cruel than I thought, Ginnister. I will not see you again in this life. May the spirits have mercy on us both."

The footfalls receded. Tetrimus waited exactly twenty seconds, then taps his omni-tool. "Once he is out of the range of the M/AM flek he was carrying, kill him."

He clicked off and bared his fangs at the sky, the wind whipping his robes around him. "Mercy is killing you, so you do not have to endure."

The sound of a single gunshot echoed across the plaza behind him, then, only silence.