Disclaimer: Any and all characters are not my own. Neither is the Halo and Mass Effect series.

Rated M

Chapter 7 - Back on the Offensive

"Horizon went dark not too long ago. We believe that the Collectors are responsible," the weight of The Illusive Man's words pressed down on Shepard's shoulders like deadweight. His breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped a beat. Shepard felt as if his legs were ready to give out… it was finally happening, a chance to take the fight to the Collectors, a chance to avenge the countless victims of this ridiculous crusade… a chance at redemption, to continue a soldier's duty.

For those few impossibly long seconds, one could hear a pin hit the floor before its announcement too faded and left behind an unbearable silence.

The commander took a deep breath, he needed to get his bearings straight, needed to take in this new information in a calm and collected manner. The ex Spectre cleared his throat.

"Are you sure?"

The Illusive Man took a long drag of his cigarette.

"Yes, they are the only ones who'd gain anything from attacking a colony of seemingly little strategic value. The only exception would be pirates, but they wouldn't have the capability to instantly disrupt a planet's communications," Shepard nodded, he didn't want to believe it at first, but now he has no choice.

"That means either the planet is under seige, or it will be soon," inferred Shepard.

"Precisely, which means that time is of the essence," The Illusive Man took a sip of alcohol. "Does Mordin have a countermeasure ready for the seeker swarms?"

Shepard shook his head in the negative, and inwardly grimaced at the realization of how unprepared they still are. "Not yet," he replied in a calm manner.

"That's a shame, hopefully he works well under pressure," the commander hoped so too.

If not, then they'd be screwed before the mission even really began. They had no other defense against those dreaded bugs.

"One more thing Shepard," began the Cerberus leader, he took another sip of alcohol painfully slow, as if the value of the liquid outweighed the existence of humanity itself. "It seems that one of your former crew, Ashley Williams, is stationed on Horizon," Shepard's eyebrows shot upwards.

Now that was unexpected news. He missed Ashley, she was a fantastic soldier and an excellent force multiplier to his team back when they were hunting down Saren. He smiled inwardly, with luck maybe he could convince her to join him in their campaign against the Collectors.

That is… if she is comfortable working on a Cerberus ship with a Cerberus crew… and a Cerberus AI.

Of course, that's if she survives the Collectors.

Shepard shook his head; none of that will happen, if there's anyone that can survive odds like that, it's Ashley.

But that also did raise some questions. Why was someone as valuable as Ashley stationed on some backwater colony? The whole reason such colonies exist is so people can get away from the Systems Alliance, they don't really seem to trust humanity's defense force.

"What could an Alliance soldier be doing out in the Terminus systems?" asked Shepard.

"Officially it's an attempt to improve Alliance relations with the outer colonies," Shepard nodded; he was expecting something like that.

"But they have to be up to something else. If they sent Commander Williams, then it must be something big," Shepard furrowed his eyebrows. What could the Alliance want with a backwater colony? It didn't make sense. Since the Terminus Systems are beyond the space administered by the Citadel or claimed by the Systems Alliance, there would be no reason to develop a secret operation to spy on or even sabotage the assets of any potential large scale threats such as the salarian STG, Batarian Hegemony, who absolutely hate humans, or even the Turian military with their significantly superior power.

Launching a campaign against slave traders and pirates threatening these colonies would require no secrecy. So what is Ashley really up to? He didn't know, and he never will just standing there thinking about it.

With that thought crossing his mind, Shepard's resolve strengthened; Horizon and Ashley are in danger, and if there's one important lesson that any soldier learns after their first few gunfights, it's that no gets left behind to die.

"I suppose I won't figure anything else out just standing here then. Send me the coordinates," said Shepard, just now hearing the unsaid order coming from him. With any other superior, Shepard wouldn't dare step out of line. But this is the leader of Cerberus… so why should he give a damn?

The Illusive Man, whether not hearing the tone of Shepard's voice, or not caring in the slightest, nodded and replied as he usually does. "Agreed, this is the most warning we've had Shepard. Good luck," and with that, the Illusive Man and the beautiful star behind him faded into nothingness, leaving an irritated and slightly concerned commander to himself.

The biotic took a deep breath; he needed to compose himself and push his emotions as far away from the mission as possible.

"Joker, set course for Horizon, I'm going to talk to the doctor and prep a team for ingress," ordered Shepard in that familiar confident voice that became so popular among those that heard the man talk.

"Understood commander."

Shepard nodded to himself, it shouldn't take long for them to reach Horizon, and when they do, the commander had a feeling that this wasn't exactly going to be an easy fight.

But that didn't matter, he had a planet to save, a galactic threat to eradicate, and an old friend to reacquaint with.

Kelly Chambers was a persistent woman whenever her occupation was concerned. The psychologist argued that she had to be whenever the mental well being of the crew was at stake. What some fail to grasp is that a soldier's mentality is just as important, if not even more important than their physical prowess and skills with a weapon. It was why the Illusive Man assigned her to this ship. She was the best at her job and a ship like the Normandy must be composed of nothing but the best. Anything less is a disgrace really.

After all, saving the galaxy is a really stressful job.

Kelly had just left Miranda's office after receiving a barrage of curses and insults from the usually calm and collected woman. Yes, Miranda did seem more agitated than usual. Luckily it didn't take much effort to get the woman to spit it out.

Of course Kelly already had an idea of what was agitating Miranda when she took a quick peek at her computer and saw that she was requisitioning more listening devices and micro spy cameras from Cerberus.

But regardless, the Cerberus princess confirmed that the resident half ton death machine seemed to be the main reason for her agitation.

Chambers was very surprised, not much got under Miranda's skin, and certainly not in such a short amount of time.

Actually, Kelly completely forgot that Six even existed. The man really kept to himself within the Normandy's cargo bay. From what she heard from Shepard, the walking enigma went through one hell of a war.

So Kelly decided that checking up on the soldier would be a good idea, he must be extremely stressed, being pulled out of his own universe and thrown into a new one before being pressed into combat again.

From Kelly's experience, no soldier should be able to stay completely calm after enduring such ordeals.

She waited patiently for the elevator to finish its slow journey into the bowls of the Normandy.

She's never seen the soldier before. What does he look like? Shepard briefly commented on his size, saying that the man was an absolute giant and as armored as a mako.

The last comment surprised Kelly. She could detect the humour in the man's voice but also caught wind of some underlying seriousness. Obviously Shepard isn't completely joking then. Many questions began to be asked to herself within her mind, and instead of answers, she only came up with more questions.

The yeoman knew she'd get her answers when the door opened and she stepping into the cargo bay.

It was nice and tidy as usual with the only real additions being the crates that the newcomer brought onboard.

She kept walking head on a swivel as she attempted to seek out the supposed 'giant of a man' but then froze.

She wasn't sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her, maybe she didn't get enough sleep, or maybe she needed a psych eval. But Kelly assumed that anyone would feel half insane after feasting their eyes upon the strange thing moving around the cargo bay.

It was just a black blur, but it was so out of place, so surreal. It seemed so stupid to describe the sight as just a 'black blur' but that's all it was really. She had no way of discerning on other detail with how fast it was moving.

Was it real?

It seemed to move across the cargo bay with such gracefulness and speed that Kelly thought that the thing was hovering an inch off of the floor. Hardly any sound was emitted from whatever the hell it was doing.

She tentatively took a step forward, hoping to get closer to observe, while at the same time wondering if this was a good idea. Shepard also briefly commented on the soldier's lethality, stated it wiped out an entire company of Batarian soldiers and nonlethally took down Shepard and the rest of his team.

Kelly began to sweat bullets and shiver in fear as she realized that that very being was in the same room as her. Still, the yeoman was sure that Shepard was over exaggerating the skill of this thing, there was just no way anything like that could be possible. Ms. Chambers has come to be used to just how humble the commander is; he always tries to undermine his skill, preferring to be recognized as your average N7 soldier rather than the galactically renowned hero that he is known as.

The woman slowly calmed down as she remembered that little tidbit about the commander's personality, still, that didn't mean that the man isn't dangerous.

Her thoughts were cut off as the blur stopped, finally allowed her to take in the enigma's true form.

Her eyes widened as she took in just how simply massive the thing was. Shepard certainly wasn't exaggerating in that regard. Kelly had to guess that the top of her head would just manage to touch the bottom of his pectoral muscles if she stood up against him.

The jet black armor was very bulky, no thing had the right to move that quickly and gracefully carrying that much weight around. The heavy armored plates definitely look impervious to small arms fire, even if she had her sidearm with her, it would be useless against this massive soldier. Its golden visor stared at her emotionlessly, and Kelly had the sudden urge to turn around and run as fast as she can.

The large being cocked its head in question before it spoke.

"Can I help you ma'am?" the man spoke in an iron hard voice void of any emotion. She's dealt with his kind before; veterans beaten and bloodied from constant fighting. Whatever kind of war he fought in, it was definitely a big one.

Still, she couldn't help but shiver as she took in just how devoid of life the man sounded. If Shepard didn't tell Kelly that he was human, she would have instantly assumed that Shepard brought a mech onboard.

Kelly took in a deep breath and regained some of her confidence.

If he wanted to kill us, he would have done it by now.

"Hi, I'm Kelly Chambers, the ship's yeoman. I was hoping to get to know you since we haven't met before," Kelly inwardly praised herself for how quickly she managed to regain her confidence.

She frowned however when the only response she got out of the soldier was a curt nod.

So the man wasn't much of a talker then.

"What's your name?" asked the yeoman.

"Six," well then, Kelly can't really say she was satisfied with that answer. That isn't a name. The yeoman assumed that it must have been a callsign used to identify him within a team. So he's using his callsign as his name? Either this guy was in the field for a really, really long time, or…

"I meant your real name," clarified Kelly in the friendliest way possible, smile and all.

"Classified," yup, that was it. Special forces. Or maybe something else?

The yeoman frowned, but knew better than to try and pry. Multiple theories fired back and forth within her conflicted mind.

Could he be suffering from PTSD? It certainly was likely, all the more reason for the yeoman to be gentle with the questions and prying. She had to get to know the man, get him to trust her, develop a kind of friendship between the two. That's where trust comes from; a strong bond.

So that was what the yeoman was going to do; take things nice and slow.

"I understand," began Kelly as she made her way over to one of the crates that the Spartan brought on board.

But before she could get any closer, she felt a firm grip on her shoulder, completely stopping her dead in her tracks and halting any further movement.

Kelly felt her heart stop and her body temperature felt significantly lower than usual. Her eyes widened and the yeoman's breathing increased. Kelly was certain the all the colour from her face instantly drained too.

She didn't even hear the soldier move… goodness he was fast too.

She slowly turned her head to the left to see the massive figure looming over her. Kelly wondered if she'd even get the chance to scream before her head was crushed into a fine pulp.

But Kelly's fear made it impossible to utter a sound. Her entire body began to shake violently like a leaf in the wind, she was at this point a quivering piece of flesh, petrified, unable to move or scream or even think.

Was this how she will die? Is she really going to-

"I wouldn't advise that ma'am," the iron hard voice was just as calm and emotionless as the last time he spoke, there was no malice or ill intent that the yeoman was aware of.

Is that a good thing? Kelly didn't know. What she did know is that special forces members are trained to control their emotions. So the yeoman assumed that her chances haven't improved at all.

The iron grip suddenly subsided, and a modicum of confusion manage to slip its way into Kelly's mind.

"I rigged the crates with a stun device to prevent their contents from falling into the wrong hands."

Wait what?

Kelly sighed in relief and felt her entire body relax as the overwhelming fear was expelled from her body. She inwardly berated herself for getting so worked up for nothing. But could she really blame herself?

"You gave me quite the scare," admitted Kelly in a quiet voice.

She turned around and looked up into that visor, which was staring back at her. Though she didn't feel the same fear or nervousness like the first time she saw the armoured man. It occurred to her that the massive soldier was protecting her in a way, preventing her from being incapacitated by his own defensive measures.

She inwardly smiled at that thought, realizing that there is a human in that armored shell that cares for members of his own species.

Six took a step back, Ms. Chambers noticed that no sound came from the boot impacting the ground.

"Sorry," said Six, bowing his head slightly.

Kelly's eyebrows shot up momentarily, she wasn't expecting an apology, not from a soldier as solid and as stoic as Six. But what surprised her the most was the sincerity in his apology. It was hardly noticeable, in fact, the yeoman was surprised that she managed to catch it at all.

The Spartan then turned around and sat down on a neighboring crate before gesturing to a smaller one in front of him.

The psychologist smiled.

She sat down and waited for the soldier to say something, hoping that maybe he would find it in himself to start off the conversation.

But when the armored behemoth remained silent, Kelly frowned and realized that she would have to not only start the conversation off, but also guide the man through it.

"So, how do you feel? It must be very difficult being in your predicament," Kelly started off with a simple question, she wanted to gauge the soldier's reaction; how much he'll reveal and how much he'll keep a secret. The yeoman has had enough conversations with secretive special forces operatives to know that Six is the type of man to withhold a lot of information from anyone inquisitive enough to dare to even question him.

It was understandable of course, but no less annoying.

"I was at first confused," admitted the Spartan. "But I have a purpose for now, and that is what matters until I can return to the UNSC."

Ms. Chambers has had thousands of sessions with all kinds of people in her many years spent in her profession. Some of them were quite open with how they felt, others not so much. With the amount of experience Kelly has accumulated, she was beginning to think that she's heard it all, that she could not be anymore surprised with any answer that could be giving in response to her curiosity.

Six was surprisingly open, that is to say a little more open than a black hole. At least his answer wasn't the damnable 'classified' that Miranda has complained about time and time again when Kelly talked with her.

But to remain so calm… especially after being literally ripped from his own universe and stuffed into a new one, is not only mind bogglingly astonishing, but also absolutely disturbing.

He wasn't scared, wasn't traumatized… he was confused?!

Kelly stopped to get her bearings straight, work past the disbelief, and ask the next question.

"Uh… what purpose are you talking about?" asked Kelly hesitantly on autopilot while her brain took the brunt of the shock.

The Spartan didn't answer at first, which confused Kelly. Did he forget his purpose? Does he have amnesia? Or maybe that answer is classified as well?

The latter is the most likely, Kelly was certain that a special forces soldier wouldn't be able to function with amnesia.

But she did notice something.

His gauntlets twitched ever so slightly.

Confused, Kelly raised an eyebrow in question; what on Earth is he doing?

Slowly but surely, Six's gauntlets slowly rose up from his lap, as if the weight of a mako was pulling down on them.

The yeoman watched with fascination as the gauntlets reached the man's helmet, and with no small amount of hesitation, slightly twisted the helmet to the side, and removed it. It was such a slow process that it looked as if some little voice in the back of the man's head was telling him to remove the helmet even though the soldier seems to be against it.

The first feature that automatically caught the yeoman's eyes was the large scar on the left side of the man's face, she wondered how the hell he managed to get it… what the hell exists in his universe capable of cutting through the armor that he is wearing?

Kelly shuddered thinking about it.

The yeoman's eyes travelled over the man's face, observing the myriad of microscopic scars, before they settled on his dark brown eyes.

Kelly was one of the best at her profession, that was what she was told by many of her accomplices, she can read a person's facial expressions in the blink of an eye, and determine what that person is feeling based on that analysis alone.

But Kelly has never, ever seen someone who could hide their emotions in the manner that Six can. The psychologist couldn't get a read on the human's expression no matter how much effort she put into it. It's as if someone literally reprogrammed his brain to wipe the concept of human emotions out of existence.

Still, Kelly learned a few things just from looking at those eyes.

They were cold, calculating, more so than any special forces operator she's ever seen. She could tell just from the way his eyes moved around scanning not just her, but their surroundings too, that this soldier carried himself in a methodical, mechanical way.

They were the eyes of a killer, an intelligent, efficient killer.

She shuddered and felt fear return in small portions.

"To protect humanity," the iron hard voice cut her off from her thoughts.

Kelly was taken aback… his purpose is to protect humanity?

The yeoman thought about exactly what that meant. Sure, it was the general duty of every human soldier to protect humanity… even from itself. But the way this man said it didn't sit well with the yeoman.

There was no pride, was no determination… there wasn't a single hint of emotion that existed within that hollow response that sounded like it came out of a broken VI. It was as if that response was the product of a constant reminder, a reminder that his life was not his own, a reminder that he has a lifelong debt to payoff fighting constantly, even if he doesn't know why he fights.

A reminder that he was born to die… but not before the enemy.

A reminder that he will expire once there is nothing left to kill. To be cast aside like a broken tool.

Like a broken tool.

Was he forced to fight against his will? Or is his emotionless deadpan a product of constantly being subjected to the horrors of war?

Kelly shuddered, she wanted to cry, wanted to know why this man seemed to be the way he is. She wanted to know his origins… or did she?

What would she do if she knew the truth? Smile in satisfaction? Comfort the Spartan as she did with any veteran that suffered more than any person should? Reel back in horror?

Kelly didn't know, maybe didn't even want to know, she's heard the saying that some secrets are best left a mystery… maybe that was the case here.

"Noble Six, Commander Shepard has requested your presence in the laboratory," deadpanned EDI unexpectedly, causing Kelly to jump slightly from surprise.

"Affirmative," replied the Spartan. If Kelly didn't know any better, she would have thought that the Spartan was competing with EDI to see who could pull off a better deadpan.

The difference was a minor one at best.

Six stood up quickly and placed his helmet back on, obscuring the only sign that proved that he was human behind that emotionless golden visor that has probably seen the deaths of more sentient beings than Kelly would want to know.

The giant of a man silently glided towards the elevator, as if the conversation he had with the yeoman meant absolutely nothing to him, as if Kelly didn't even exist.

"Wait," the Spartan stopped at the soft voice, surprising Kelly that he was able to even hear her how quiet she was.

He turned his head to the left slightly.

Kelly hesitated with her next words, unsure how the Spartan would react despite how meaningless the next statement would likely be to him.

"Thank you for taking the time to talk with me, and for being open," said Kelly, mustering the courage to put as much sincerity into her statement as possible.

"Of course," replied Six, he nodded before stepping into the elevator and disappearing within its maw.

The yeoman simply sat there, and stared at the door that separated her from the Spartan. Kelly realized just how fruitless the conversation really was though. She has more questions than answers now. Questions that she desperately wanted to find the answers to, answers that Kelly knew wouldn't just show up out of thin air.

Kelly sighed and looked at the floor, wondering how she would satisfy her curiosity, while at the same time failing to realize the implications of just what might happen if she delved into the mind of the man she spoke to just seconds ago.

"Excellent, you are here, should administer countermeasure immediately, perhaps even study the suit's workings… analysis may be required for countermeasure to be installed," Mordin was ecstatic, even for a salarian. The scientist might as well have injected himself with a kilogram of caffeine given the fact that the salarian looked to be on the brink on the brink of bouncing off the walls at the rate his excitement is increasing at.

There was a desperate pleading in Mordin's eyes as they simultaneously scanned every piece of the hulking behemoth's suit. Six simply stared down at the salarian, as if Mordin was an old friend that he was attempting to feign ignorance to in order to avoid embarrassment.

Of course, Mordin wouldn't know that, why would he care?

"That won't be necessary-" began Six.

"Nonsense! Countermeasure is required in order to prevent paralysis… though perhaps witnessing such an occurrence would prove fruitful to my studies," Said Mordin, completely ignoring the disturbed expressions that Shepard and Garrus were giving him.

"I'd recommend getting the upgrade Six, we have no clue whether or not your armor would be able to protect you," said Shepard.

Mordin grinned like a maniac at the support.

The Spartan spared Shepard a brief glance before turning towards Mordin.

"How do seeker swarms detect and paralyze their targets?"

"Simple, they can detect thermal signatures or the electrical signals emitted from the nervous system. They then latch onto a target and envelop them in a stasis field," the Spartan nodded.

Mordin waited for Six to speak but was confused when the Spartan said nothing, he didn't even move. The human just stood there as if, funnily enough, he was paralyzed by the same foe whose capabilities Mordin was just explaining.

"Uh, Six… you alive in there?" asked Garrus, speaking for the first time since the Spartan entered Mordin's domain.

Shepard took a tentative step towards the giant.

"Six-"

"My armor is fully capable of masking my heat signatures. My shields and power source can mask the natural electrical signals emitted by the nervous system as well. No upgrade required," said Six. His response was so unexpected that Garrus almost jumped and even Shepard flinched slightly.

Mordin was flabbergasted. Masking the heat signatures is elementary, he was expecting that. But to mask the nervous system's electrical signals? How is that possible!? Was that an intended part of the design or is it unintentional?

In order to mask the brain's electrical signals, his shields would have to be giving off an electrical signal of its own. That means that the shield has to have a charge… that doesn't make much sense now does it? If his shield is constantly giving off an electrical signal, that means that it would have to be a physical barrier made out of ions or something similar at least… Mordin's never heard of such a thing, the only direct comparison that he could think of would be cyclonic barriers. But that technology simply oscillates kinetic barriers which allows that barrier to be constantly active in order to slap aside linear force rather than take the hit head on. But it's still a kinetic barrier at heart, it isn't a physical barrier that is constantly active… nor could it be applied to infantry armor, that tech is limited to ships.

As far as his armor's power source goes… it would have to be immensely powerful if it is capable of scrambling a seeker swarm's ability to track its target. In truth, this revelation made Mordin even more excited about figuring out how Six's technology works.

"Incredible, the applications of this technology are truly limitless, may need to conduct research even if the countermeasure is not required-"

"Dammit Mordin, can you please stop talking for at least two minutes?" groaned Garrus in comedic irritation.

The salarian did stop talking surprisingly, but that ominous look of excitement never left the scientist's countenance.

"Six, I'm not sure if this is a good idea, I'm a firm believer in the concept of never being too prepared and well…" Shepard trailed off, struggling to find a way to convey his thoughts to Noble Six.

"Even if I did request the countermeasure's installation, you would not have the technological capacity to install the system into my armor," said Six with an air of finality.

Shepard seemed to think about Six's words for a second, no doubt wondering if Mordin's countermeasure was even compatible with the armour system. Said salarian was grumbling as he saw the hesitation on Shepard's face; another failed attempt, he will have to figure out something else then.

Shepard sighed. "Alright, I'll let it slide, you definitely know more about your armour than us afterall. But god forbid if your suit fails and you get paralyzed, because I doubt even Grunt would be able to haul you out in the middle of a free fire zone," said Shepard with a bit more exasperation than he may have been willing to show. It was understandable of course, Six's stubbornness wasn't just annoying Mordin, but it was worrying Shepard, who had no idea if the Spartan's armour could protect him. In hindsight, the commander is probably feeling like he is the one putting the super soldier in danger.

"Understood," said Six.

"Alright, now that the seeker problem is taken care of, I want both of you to gear up and meet me in the cargo bay. We won't be able to bring in anymore than three people for this engagement, lest we attract too much attention by having a larger presence on the planet. I picked the two of you because we need a mixture of power, speed, and precision for this mission. Krogans and an overuse of biotics can be indiscriminate, and that's detrimental to the safety of any civilians that the collectors haven't yet extracted," said Shepard, his voice was full of determination and the very same confidence that rallied the downfall of Sovereign.

Both the Spartan and turian listened intently to their leader, knowing that the man is an experienced commander and that whatever he says goes.

"Monitor fields of fire and apply lethal force liberally on anything that identifies as hostile, we've no idea how much damage they can take or dish out. But check your fire, we don't want any possible civilians getting caught in the crossfire… understood?" there was no need for a response, everything was understood.

All three members of the team were on edge. Both Shepard and Garrus were finally presented the opportunity of taking the fight to the alien bastards that have eluded them for so long. The Collectors were an enemy whose capabilities were never before documented, to face a new enemy without any previous knowledge on their capabilities would drive any soldier to the point of madness.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, Noble Six felt the same, though for much different reasons. It brought flashbacks of his first engagements with Covenant forces on planets both human controlled and neutral. All of his years of training couldn't prepare him for real combat.

He remembered his first skirmish against Covenant ground forces, they were already in the process of burning down the peaceful little hamlet by the time he got there on that cold Christmas morning.

Blood curdling screams echoed amongst plasma discharges throughout the frozen wasteland. The hungry flames that consumed to village lit up the cold, unforgiving night and the smell of the smoke, ozone being vapourised by plasma, and the stench of death permeated the previously peaceful scene. Corpses either burnt, cut to pieces, or devoured littered the dirt roads and the insides of the burnt out husks.

They called it a test, his trial by fire.

Mike remembered systematically slaughtering the Covenant unit. Every bullet fired marked the promise of an agonizing death, every human butchered promised the death of a hundred of the enemy's brethren.

He remembered the look of pure, unadulterated rage that that zealot tried to burn into his visor as it brought its sword down upon a screaming child.

He remembered his fists pounding the alien's head into the ground until it was a fine pulp as he roared in rage, reminded by the fate his family suffered when he was a useless child, unable to save them from their horrific fates. His enhanced lungs allowed the action to carry on for a half minute before the echoes of Mike's anger eventually settled and left behind an eerie silence that remains even to this day as he journeys across a universe not his own.

He was only twelve back then; a child soldier.

Has it really been that long?

"If nothing more needs to be said, then you are dismissed. I expect the two of you to be at the cargo bay no less than ten minutes from now," said Shepard.

The turian only nodded and Six saluted, before both sniper and Spartan left the domain of the overly hyper scientist.

"Excellent, now that the timeframe of two minutes has expired, I believe that-"

Apparently one of them just didn't get the memo...

"What do you mean we've been compromised?" growled Six within the confines of his helmet.

Sigma sighed; he knew that this would happen. The Spartan was as big of a perfectionist as they'd get. The slightest imperfection was enough the send the usually calm super soldier into a rabid frenzy. This was no different.

"That's exactly what I mean Six," began Sigma as he used MJOLNIR's scanners to determine Mike's status. Interesting, his blood pressure seems to be about 2% higher than usual… suffice to say, the super soldier was royally pissed.

"There is an unknown entity that managed to slip some surveillance equipment into the confines of the enemy stronghold through means unknown. Though going off of your recent… encounter, my current hypothesis is that Cerberus is on our trail. Though considering where our operation was regarding galactic territory… it could be any number of entities that could be after us. I estimate that there is an 87% chance that Cerberus was involved," Sigma was confident in his calculations, the AI has never made a mistake so far in his lifetime with regards to calculations, estimates, and the like. The AI didn't want a repeat of the several events where Six and the Master Chief was forced to fight in a four way battle between themselves, the Covenant the Flood, and Forerunner sentinels. Sigma wasn't 'alive' back then, but he did have access to the recordings since he was designated to be the companion of the single most secretive soldier in the entirety of the UNSC. Those recordings weren't pretty… Sigma decided to leave it at that.

"Understood, we don't know what we're up against however, assume nothing and consider all possible variables,"said Six, Sigma heard the order in his voice and obeyed instantly.

Silence permeated the inside of Mike's helmet and the dropship that he was in. No one said a word as the dropship left the Normandy's safety and began its descent towards the supposed ghost planet below. Sigma hoped that there were still survivors that they could extract. Any information about this new enemy would be a blessing. Anything about their capabilities, force projection capabilities, and tactics would assist the Normandy crew in developing counter strategies to combat the threat.

"Any luck with planetside communications or surveillance?" questioned Six as he checked his weapon; a M395 DMR, and chambered an 8.6x70mm bullet. Shepard and Garrus observed the weapon with curiosity, it was a foreign weapon system to them, how could a soldier deny his curiosity for new ways of killing the enemy?

"No, these Collectors completely knocked out the planet's electronics with a very powerful EMP. I can't use broken electronics," replied Sigma with no unnoticeable amount of exasperation. "Still, the Normandy seems to have a strong connection with the team, so at least something is going our way."

"Best to prepare for the worst," stated Six.

"So, so negative," teased the AI with a noticeable amount of mirth in his voice.

"Negatives cancel out," replied the usually stoic soldier. Gesturing over to Garrus without anyone noticing. The alien did appear to be agitated.

Sigma paused in surprise. "Is… is that humour? From the Grim Reaper of the UNSC? My, my I am impressed," drawled the AI in a fashion not often associated with a military grade smart AI.

"Don't get used to it," Sigma chuckled; perhaps things aren't so bad after all.

"Nice world, it's a shame that its inhabitants had to suffer this fate," muttered Garrus under his breath. His facial expression seemed to indicate sorrow, based on Sigma's knowledge of the Sangheili.

"I've never been to Horizon, but I heard that it's a beautiful temperate world," began Shepard, to no one in particular really. "They say that it had practically exploded in plant and animal biodiversity in recent years. A friend of mine that was in the same unit said he lived in Horizon, once you could get past the abnormally large insects and virulent disease, it felt a lot like Earth in a way," Sigma listened to the commander with interest. Often the things that makes soldiers fight the hardest is the thought of home, whether or not the commander did that on purpose was beyond Sigma, though he did notice Mike's heartbeat increase by about 0.21 beats per minute. He wondered if it was the thought of home or the thought of a planet's surface being recognizable and biosphere remaining intact after an enemy has successfully invaded it that was causing this fluctuation. To a human or even most computers, this small of an increase wouldn't even be noticed, but Sigma is a smart AI that has known Mike for years, he can easily pick out the tell tale signs.

"Damn is he…" started Garrus with a small amount of worry appearing on his features.

"No, a thresher maw got him a few years back, I only hope that the death was quick," said Shepard, his voice was just above a whisper, something that sounded like regret to Sigma.

"Shit Shepard… I didn't know I-" Shepard held up his hand in a silent order commanding the turian to stop. Garrus complied and stared at his commanding officer with no small amount of worry.

"That doesn't matter right now, we can't lose our heads now," Sigma was surprised at just how quickly Shepard's demeanour changed. Not even a moment ago he seemed to be filled with grief. But now it looked as if he would jump out of the shuttle, plummet to the ground, and slaughter the enemy himself.

Those were signs of a strong leader. Someone who could separate their emotions from the mission quickly like that in order to make way for logical thinking make for excellent leaders.

"ETA to touchdown is 60 seconds, standby," informed the pilot, a nameless fellow much like most of the crew.

"We're gonna land on the Eastern edge of the town, can't risk giving the Collectors multiple angles of fire on us," said Shepard as he ran one last weapon check. The commander and Garrus both stood up and faced the door with Noble Six.

"Line formation, three meter spacing, I want everyone to monitor their own fields of fire. Six, take point first and wait for us to form up, the more guns we have scanning every sector the better, we've no idea what to expect from the Collectors," a sound strategy, thought Sigma. A line formation would prevent the limited fields of fire that would arise from utilizing a column or arrowhead formation, giving everyone the chance to bring a weapon to bare on the enemy.

"Understood," deadpanned Sigma's human companion. Now Six was serious… more so than usual. Sigma usually calls it his 'mission voice'. He can tell the difference based on the more intense deadpan and very slight gravely tone… yes there is a difference surprisingly.

The door suddenly opened up and the three man team poured out of the dropship quickly and efficiently, sweeping every sector with their weapons whilst simultaneously forming up into the requested formation. Typical special forces fluidity, it was satisfying to look at, no matter how many times Sigma has seen Noble and Blue team do it. There was just something so satisfying about watching years of experience and training being translated into perfect movement and tactics.

"Mordin, we're on the ground right now, I sincerely hope your little science project actually works," Sigma hopes so too, right now, there is no way to reverse the effects of the seekers swarm paralysis ability. Who knows what would happen if Shepard and Garrus get paralyzed. Still, the AI was confident in the team's ability to overcome the odds and come out on top.

"Fear not, I have taken every precaution. Countermeasure should work as long as exposure to swarms are at the minimum. However, should it fail, I'm waiting to record the results regardless," said Mordin excitedly, seemingly without a care in the world.

"That's… not very comforting," admitted Garrus. "Perhaps you should educate Mordin on the importance of team morale."

"Yes, I presume some rehabilitation is in order here," agreed Shepard.

Sigma chuckled behind the scenes. But he knew that the humour was meant to calm down the soldiers, put them at ease. This wasn't just your average stressful situation where it's just another engagement with a familiar opponent. No, this was an organized and technologically advanced opponent whose capabilities have never been documented before, they had the right to be worried.

"I wasn't aware that they had orbital support. Yet another variable that we haven't taken into consideration… for Spirit's sake," growled Garrus. "Damn I just lost connection with the Normandy, I think they know we're here,"

"Ready yourselves," growled Shepard.

Sigma utilized Six's helmet camera in order to get a good glimpse of the vessel. It was quite large by this galaxy's standards, it seemed to be noticeably larger than a UNSC destroyer but much smaller than a cruiser weight ship. The vessel looked like a metallic superstructure built into a massive asteroid, it was a design the likes of which Sigma has never seen before. Why design a ship that way? Is there a strategic benefit? Or is it for the sake of some insane alien religion or culture probably paying tribute to whatever billion year old extinct race their species may worship?

"Inefficient placement of orbital asset," analyzed Mike, never one to miss out on strategic intelligence.

"Yes, they are leaving themselves vulnerable to surface to orbit weaponry and opposing naval assets… not that they'd have a problem with that."

It's strange though, these Collectors seem very confident in their capabilities, to so blatantly place their most valuable local asset in such a disadvantageous position seemed to speak volumes of their arrogance.

It reminded Sigma of the Covenant, of what the countless intelligence dossiers and files have revealed to him; decades of research on ways to counter the Covenant.

But not even the Covenant would pull a stunt like this, at least not to Sigma's knowledge. If the Covenant needed to land troops, they'd vector dropships from their ships in orbit to complete that task. If they had to wipe out military targets - or the planet itself - then they'd do it from the safety of the planet's orbit. Sigma knew right then and there that they have something now; a weakness to exploit. They didn't have knowledge on their full capabilities, their true motives, attack patterns, or force composition, but they still have something.

They were moving now, keeping their eyes on all sectors, enjoying the protection that the wall and large rocks provided on their left, and the absence of land on the right due to their elevated position above the seemingly endless farmlands.

"Looks like the Alliance's investments were wasted, I wonder if those guns would have made a difference had they been completed in time," said Garrus.

Sigma observed the weapon; it was larger than an onager MAC gun, he wondered if this particular weapon could outrange the emplacement that he was more familiar with. It was certainly likely since this universe didn't have anything resembling an ODP and thus had to rely more on these surface to orbital weapons.

"I doubt it, all intel points to the fact that the Collectors can disable electronics on a global scale. In theory, they can just sit on one side of the planet, out of range of the guns, and then wipe out all electronics from there," Shepard was right. Though how they managed to do that is still up to speculation. The UNSC has never utilized EMP devices that powerful to Sigma's knowledge. So without any information it could be-

Shit!

Sigma stopped his train of thought the nanosecond Six's sensor suite picked up movement. Time stopped from the AI's point of view. Literally. With Sigma's reaction time in the nanoseconds, he is a few million times faster than even a Spartan III or II. There was a dozen of them on the motion sensors, about 100 meters in front and closing. It won't take long until both sides collide in the courtyard ahead of them. The courtyard was littered with an assortment of barriers, pillars, and crates. None of the ground team were aware of the impending threat. It was too damn late to inform Six; despite the distance, the angle that both parties are at relative to each other would allow for visual contact just inside MJOLNIR's sensor range, which was in this case slightly augmented by Sigma's presence, though not too much so as to use up an unnecessary amount of power. Sigma just had to trust in the Spartan to react accordingly. With a reaction time of about four milliseconds in armor, Sigma was certain that Six will probably react even faster than the enemy that likely already know where they are. But what about Shepard and Garrus? Sigma knows that Cerberus augmented Shepard when they brought him back. But how extensive are those augmentations? How fast is Shepard? Fast enough? Sigma didn't know.

Sigma could only do one action, one simple thing, in order to give Six the edge. It was a simple form of communication common amongst Spartans.

He winked the red acknowledgment light inside Six's helmet.

Tens of thousands of hours of combat experience translated into Six's next movements.

To any normal individual, the time it took Mike to react to the red light would have seemed instant. But Sigma knew the truth; 3.998 milliseconds, impressive.

The deceivingly fast Spartan pushed Garrus to the side and took the brunt of the fire. The impossibly small shavings impacted instantly and the Spartan's brilliant golden barrier lit up in response to the punishment. Sigma found himself worried as a dozen or so bursts impacted the shield and brought its total strength down by a full quarter.

"Careful Six, those weapons pack more of a punch than the hardware you're used to dealing with from the pirates," Six didn't respond, but Sigma knew that Mike got the message and understood, he always did.

It was then that Shepard responded 110 milliseconds later; so he was fast, faster than Sigma anticipated. Still, for the AI, the difference was massive.

"Contact! Weapons free!" bellowed Shepard, his assault rifle barked and impacted the shields of one of the repulsive, insectoid creatures. Sigma watched the abomination's shields shrug off the absurdly light projectiles.

They were more durable too, and even without the shields Sigma had no way of knowing their biological makeup, where are all the vital organs clustered, how durable are their chitinous carapaces? This was all information that they had to learn with time and experience, but time is something they don't have much of unfortunately.

And then, as the Spartan's DMR continued to bark, the UNSC intelligence felt the unidentified transmission interacting with MJOLNIR's communication suite.

The AI knew that they were in trouble the second he traced that transmission to the enemy's ship; the center of their operations on this planet…

"We are your genetic destiny."

Joker growled in annoyance as the Normandy's communication systems tried, and failed to pierce through the metaphorical barrier erected by the Collectors in an attempt to cut off ground forces from orbital assets.

It was working.

The Normandy had some of the most, if not the most advanced communications equipment in the galaxy, to see it so easily overpowered both scared and pissed off the veteran pilot.

"Damn it… EDI, try clearing up that interference and isolating the ground team's signal," ordered Joker as his fingers frantically danced across the Normandy's controls.

"I have already tried thousands of times Jeff, however no progress has been made. It appears that the Collectors have managed to ionize Horizon's ionosphere far beyond what is normal, our hails cannot penetrate that type of interference," Joker's eyes widened.

How the hell could the Collectors accomplish such a feat? Typically, radio waves sent within a planet's atmosphere are reflected by the ionosphere back down to the planet's surface. This is why radio waves are a useless form of communication for ships and satellites that are in high orbit. Instead microwaves are used because their shorter wavelengths allow for them to pass through a normal ionosphere.

Joker thought back to the numerous planets he has ventured to throughout his career. There are planets that exist with an atmosphere so heavily ionized, that any signals from orbiting ships are simply reflected back out into space even microwaves. Horizon is not one of those planets.

"Impossible…" Joke gasped as realization dawned upon him.

"What is it Jeff?" questioned the AI.

"EDI, is it possible that the Collectors are not using a traditional jamming system and instead somehow managed to use element zero in order to project a global barrier that could ionize the atmosphere?" No one has ever considered the use of eezo in such an application, to be able to use it to effectively jam comms spoke volumes of the power of the Collectors.

"Yes, after analyzing the properties of element zero and the ionosphere, I have come to the conclusion that element zero can be used in order to ionize the ionosphere far more than what is standard in order to achieve the same effects as a theoretical global jamming device, though having much more profound effects on electronics," that was all that Joker needed and did not want to hear.

It almost made sense too; the ionosphere is a layer of weakly ionized atoms and subatomic particles. An ion is just an atom with an electrical charge. But these ions are not too numerous; they are spread thin. Somehow, the Collectors must have managed to utilize the high electrical conductivity properties of element zero in order to super saturate the ions with an electrical current, thus preventing and form of communication.

Strange… for the first five minutes of the infil, they were communicating just fine. That means that the Collectors must have jammed their comms recently… which meant…

"Damn, EDI The Collector ship knows where the team is, we need to do something now!" Joker was livid; that ship could absolutely decimate the ground team in a heartbeat.

"I'm afraid there is nothing we can do Jeff, the hostile ship's capabilities prevent us from being able to retaliate with the Normandy," Joker's left eye twitched in rage; that insufferable, uncaring, good for nothing waste of space will not stand between him and the ground team's safety.

"I don't give a shit, we have to do something, distract those pricks before they flip the damn chess board, pull a Harry Houdini, and send the ground team back to us in pine boxes,"

"Jeff, the Normandy's weapon systems are incapable of harming a ship that large with such a technological advantage," deadpanned EDI, seemingly without a care in the world.

Joker grit his teeth in anger, and was tempted to slam the controls with his fist but thought better of it; a broken hand isn't going to help him save Shepard or protect the Normandy.

Instead the pilot sat in his seat resisting the urge to itch himself as countless beads of sweat began to pour down his skin. Joker realised that he couldn't sacrifice the lives of everyone on this ship if it wouldn't change the outcome.

He also realized that there is a chance that the Normandy will be down a few members by the time this prematurely ends… he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Commander John Shepard was many things. He was the survivor of the Skyllian Blitz, Hero of the Citadel, first Human Spectre, Sovereign's destroyer.

But he was still human, despite his feats, despite his augmentations… and humans do feel fear. As the first of the chitinous aliens fell under prolonged fire from Shepard's assault rifle, he couldn't help but think: Is this what humanity felt when they first came into contact with the Turians? Is this what first contact felt like? It was scary, Shepard felt fear often, who wouldn't? But the commander knew better than to let that fear linger, his experience allowed him to push that emotion aside; he needed to get his bearings straight, needed to be more machine than man, for the sake of the mission.

And so that was exactly what was done, in an instant the fear dispersed like the lingering thermal radiation of a fire would on a cold winter night. In an instant Shepard was no longer a mere mortal but the legend the galaxy had come to know, respect and fear. In an instant he was the commander.

Shepard leaned to the right of the pillar and opened fire on the slowly advancing insectoid creature, peppering it with a hailstorm of pencil shaving-like projectiles. He was tempted to wince each second as the creature withstood more and more of his ballistic onslaught.

However, the worry was for naught as the shields collapsed and the carapace became victim to Shepard's weapon. Thankfully, the aliens were not too tough without their barriers, the rounds penetrated instantly and the commander hypothesized that moving at such velocities, the rounds themselves might have shredded small portions of the creature's internal organs through the dispersion of small micro shockwaves; almost like a sonic boom, though having much more power compressed on a microscale.

The ex spectre smirked as the abomination slumped to the dirt silently amidst the sounds of war.

Seeing that the flank on the right is clear, Shepard immediately switched directions and looked around the other side of his cover, widened his eyes to comical proportions as he feasted his eyes upon the over half dozen entrenched tangos in the middle of the courtyard, and then promptly retreated behind the pillar, wincing slightly as he heard the metallic ping for each time a round impacted the cover mere centimeters from where his head was not a moment ago.

Shepard furrowed his eyebrows, they were changing tactics, going for a mostly frontal assault while leaving their flanks lightly guarded; a grave mistake.

"Enemies are massing in the center of the courtyard, Six I need a distraction, Garrus, flank left," said Shepard in an authoritative tone, though he knew they'd listen, the situation sparked within Shepard the need to win - more so than usual; there are still fellow humans out there.

"Acknowledged," Shepard smirked at the deadpan reply, and watched in grim satisfaction as the Spartan's strange rifle fired even faster, already dropping a trio of the hostiles. Shepard marveled at the power of that particular weapon, wondering how such a primitive concept could be so powerful. Then again, it was very difficult to contend with an additional four hundred to five hundred years of experience with an already familiar weapon system. He wondered how many people would scoff at that, not wishing to believe for a second that a concept designed to replace a supposed outdated weapon system could actually be surpassed by the very same concept which has been experimented on and tweaked for an additional half a millenium. The commander inwardly laughed; some people just can't take facts or logic into account. Still, element zero weapons still had a few advantages that the commander is happy to have.

Without giving it another thought, Shepard turned tail and ran down the right flank, it seemed as if fate had a twisted sense of humour as another collector showed itself. Shepard cursed, he won't have enough time to raise his weapon in order to end the threat considering just how durable it is.

Instead the commander settled for the next best thing; ebon energy wisped around his physical form as the commander instantly accelerated forward towards the abomination. The commander had to be travelling at a blistering 70-80 kilometers per hour. The entire world felt like a blur for the briefest of moments before Shepard felt the biotic barrier in front of him take the massive impact. Even then, Shepard felt the air getting pushed out of his lungs. The collector flew back a good three meters and impacted a crate behind it, warping its metal frame.

The kinetic barrier that the alien is equipped with did not register Shepard's speed; even at his inhuman velocity, he was moving too slow to trigger the barrier, the full force of the impact cracked its carapace slightly and probably shook the organs within its own body; physics is a beautiful thing after all.

Remarkably, the thing was still alive, and was currently in the process of getting up onto its feet… until Shepard emptied most of his thermal clip into the repulsive creature.

The stubborn bastards just didn't know how to die it seems.

"Shepard, we've dwindled their numbers a bit more, though we should move quickly lest we get bogged down by more of these freaks," reported Garrus in a calm and collected voice.

Shepard recognized that tone, it was the concentration of a sniper moments before taking a being's life. Sure enough, there was a report, far louder than the rest, followed by another, and another.

Shepard turned his attention towards the bulk of the enemy force and lobbed a grenade into the group hoping to take some of the heat off of the Spartan. The grenade landed between two of the closer aliens and exploded.

The grenade's shockwave threw the aliens to the ground while the shrapnel eviscerated their barriers… but they didn't die.

Shepard growled, but refused to give up; anything can be killed if you shoot at it enough.

Shepard shouldered his rifle, prepared to turn his targets into swiss cheese. But before the man could pull the trigger, both assailants dropped dead in an instant, the commander's head snapped on to the armored bulk of the super soldier and raised his eyebrows in amazement; the two Collectors' deaths were so close together, that Shepard didn't know which one was shot first.

It was exhilarating even now to see the superhuman capabilities of Six. He chuckled grimly; Miranda's and even his own augmentations do not hold a candle Six's.

Shepard put that thought in the back of his head, took aim, and dropped three Collectors, two with his rifle, and a third with a vicious biotic assault which lifted the several hundred pound alien off of the floor and slammed it back down hard enough that the organs inside were likely mush.

"Commander, hostile elements are dwindling, recommend we push forward to avoid further retaliation, how copy?" Noble Six was surprisingly calm despite this whole first contact thing… then again this was his what… third time including the aliens from his universe and from Shepard's own home cosmos?

Fuck, how can he be so calm?

"Agreed, push forward Six, Garrus you've got rearguard," Shepard didn't wait for a response as he dropped another Collector with several bursts from his rifle.

Despite being outnumbered facing a completely new enemy, the three experienced combatants made surprisingly short work of the bastards. Shepard could hazard a guess why. If there was anyone that was experienced with first contact scenarios going wrong, it was Six, and he didn't think anyone else could attest to that fact. The ex Spectre was glad to have the man onboard.

With the last hostile left with a bullet in the middle of its head courtesy of Garrus, the trio continued to push forward through the outskirts and finally in the small town.

Shepard stopped to inspect one of the bodies. It was lying face up with two tiny holes in its forehead; Garrus' work. As the ex Spectre continued to examine the body, memories began to flash before him. Shepard's eyes widened slightly as the memories from Eden Prime became more and more vivid; metal and circuitry welded to flesh, machine and flesh becoming one.

Husk, they look like husks.

"I noticed that too when I was looking at them through my scope," said Garrus worryingly. Shepard frowned; it looked like the work of the Reapers almost.

"I suppose the Illusive Man was right on one thing; the Collectors are working with the Reapers," muttered Shepard.

He noticed the shape of Garrus on his left but didn't bother to acknowledge him. The only thing he could think of were these sick creatures lying dead before his feet. He felt sick and damn near threw up his breakfast as thoughts of these tortured souls plagued his mind like corrosion would to a sheet of metal.

"Now the question is," said Garrus as he poked and prodded the corpse with the muzzle of his rifle." Did these lakeys team up with the Reapers out of the goodness of their hearts, or were they forced?"

Shepard looked at the turian with furrowed eyebrows, then back down at the corpse, flesh replaced with metal and circuitry, brain for what would amount to a CPU, emotions for logic, life for death, and ultimately, death for life, a life of eternal torture, eternal servitude to the puppet masters of all of galactic life. Shepard shuddered.

"I'd guess the latter," he whispered; he wouldn't wish this fate upon anyone.

Shepard took a deep breath and turned his gaze to the right; wishing to seek the armored giant's counsel. He was surprised yet also not surprised to see the Spartan's rifle slowly checking every possible angle of attack.

"Thoughts Six?" Shepard asked hesitantly, he was still slightly nervous around the soldier, it wasn't easy to forget what he did to his team when they first crossed paths.

He was expecting a short simple answer but was surprised and even more concerned when the soldier didn't reply.

"Six are you-"

"Memories," the single worded interruption stopped Shepard in his tracks, it was very cryptic, though the soldier knew that Six was trying to say that he was okay. It still didn't put him at ease, whatever was giving Six pause must have been pretty severe.

"We should push forward, maintain the momentum. If there are any survivors, they'll be on the ship,"

"I suppose you're right," Shepard didn't pause for conversation as he cautiously moved towards a large metallic structure built into a cave, probably to keep it from coming down on the colonists' heads… he ignored the picnic table as he passed it, meals probably just turning cold, recent as this atrocity was. "You're universe had something like the Reapers then?"

The commander stacked up on the metallic pillar, team in tow.

"Yes-"

Shepard, blessed with reflexes far faster than the average human, popped out from cover with his weapon shouldered, ready to damn the enemies of humanity straight to hell. His heart damn near jumped out of his mouth, grew legs, and ran away once the distinct corpse of the husk was distinguishable from the dry Earth-like grass.

"-In a manner of speaking,"

Shepard motioned his team to follow him, and as the commander and his brethren approached the corpse, weapons trained on the front, rear, and the body itself, Shepard's adrenaline spiked as he took in the increasingly tense situation and deafening silence.

Though the whole situation screamed 'trap', nothing happened whilst their slow methodical advance carried them towards the corpse, no one came when the sounds of their hushed whispers carried theories this way and that as Shepard stared into those lifeless cybernetic eyes, and no opposition was put in their way when confirmations were made and courses of action finalized.

With a nod shared by all three members of the odd group, they continued through the natural cave, unimpeded by the enemy so far, yet victims of paranoia.

"Multiple buildings, that means different angles of attack," said Garrus rapidly. "We need to be careful."

"It's too quiet, something's not right," growled Shepard quietly, his trigger finger began to twitch, demanding that the enemy show itself so that he can riddle them with gunfire. "Keep your heads on a swivel."

"Commander, two foot mobiles three O'clock, unknown affiliation," Shepard jumped at the iron hard voice, once again forgetting about the vast scope of the Spartan's abilities.

Shepard regardless eyed the small house, more like a hut infused with twenty second century technology in comparison to the towering skyscrapers of Earth's bustling cities.

With a series of hand signals, the team begin to get into position to breach and clear, Shepard himself primed a flashbang; if there were survivors inside the structure, the flashbang will only cause temporary blindness and lack of hearing.

Thump

Shepard stiffened, what was that? It came from within the small building

There was the slight shuffle of feet from within the structure, but not much more than that. Could it be survivors? Could it really? Shepard began to put away the flashbang but stopped. No, unlikely… something wasn't right here.

"So… what exactly are the odds that we'd come across survivors now? I'd like to think that it wouldn't be that easy to escape the Collectors hiding in what would basically be classified as a glorified hut," Shepard scowled at Garrus' sense of humour but had to agree; about the only thing that would protect someone from a Collector invasion would be complete silence to avoid detection and a half meter bulkhead… minimum.

The hairs on the back of Shepard's neck stood up; this isn't good, it was just another situation that they were jumping into blind. But the commander had to take the risk and ascertain whether or not there really are survivors inside… but he'll be damned if he identifies himself as Cerberus.

"This is Commander John Shepard of the Systems Alliance. Is anyone in there? We are searching for survivors and have access to food, water, and a way off the planet."

No response, if there really were survivors, then they would have responded right? But then again, perhaps it's fear that is preventing them from speaking, fear of attracting Collector attention. Unless these pricks were trying to play some sort of practical joke on Shepard and his team, that was the only viable option.

Shepard nodded towards the Spartan, who was posted on the right side of the building, the super soldier readied himself for the breach, no doubt having done so numerous times.

The ex Spectre once more prepared his flashbang and made a steady advance towards the window-

"Contacts North," deadpanned the Spartan.

Shepard, ever the quick one, spun around and bore witness to the trio of Collectors, leaping over buildings via jetpack.

Shit!

Shepard's weapon was a blur to his own eyes, adrenaline flooded his veins and he sighted up the hostile in the middle of the group. His finger was mere millimeters from the trigger, so close to obliterating the treacherous creature, it was right before that horrendous, and very familiar scream tore Shepard from his tunnel vision and sent his heart rate skyrocketing to levels the commander isn't really used to.

He knew that sound, and suddenly this mission became that much deadlier.

He was knocked to the ground bodily by the unseen, yet audibly identifiable threat. Shepard's weapon clattered to the ground, out of reach. The commander's eyes bore into the cybernetic ones of his attacker… they were full of so much hate, so much pain, suffering. Shepard reacted instinctively and drove his omni blade into the husk's chest again and again until the tortured abomination stopped moving.

The commander refrained from sighing in relief in the middle of battle, and rolled the corpse off of him, noting just how much heavier it is than a normal human body with all of the horrendous cybernetics pumped into it.

Shepard sprinted backwards and into the previously occupied building, inside he found the corpse of husk number two with both Garrus and Six firing at the aliens through a window each.

"Hostile count has increased to 9," said Six.

Shepard swore as the sound of enemy gunfire increased and his shields began taking stray fire, he ducked, eager to save himself from becoming a piece of glorified swiss cheese.

"These bastards sure know how to throw a welcoming party wouldn't you say Shepard?" The humour from Garrus's statement was not lost to Shepard, and he scowled.

"Not now Garrus, keep up the return fire. No way we can leave this building until we dwindle their numbers."

The sniper didn't respond, but the heavy reports of his rifle was a good enough response to the commander.

"Hostile elements have increased in number, recommend maintaining a defensive posture," Deadpanned the super soldier.

Shepard emptied his clip into a collector, "Damn, alright maintain a defensive perimeter, don't let none of them inside!"

Shepard began to recall memories of similar situations, where he was locked in a building with a small group of friendlies as support, surrounded by hostiles. The best bet to survive would be to remain inside and thin out their numbers quickly before they pile in and storm their position.

Though the only difference is that he didn't have a super soldier on his side that can probably slaughter an entire company of marines without even breaking a sweat.

"Shepard, they're trying to get inside!" Shepard gripped his rifle tightly and berated himself for getting sidetracked.

"Six!" called Shepard.

His eyes met the golden visor, and he fought to hold back his devilish grin.

"Guard these entrances," ordered Shepard.

"Of course commander."

He turned his attention back to the enemy outside and caught a glimpse of the turian grinning in what was most definitely anticipation. Shepard couldn't help but grin himself.

Poor bastards.

"Tango twelve O'clock, doorway," called Shepard.

"Engaging," Garrus fired.

CRACK, CRACK, CRACK.

Round after round flew forth, impacting the creature's barrier, it glowed blue like the morning sky with each impact and eventually faded out like a candle being blown out at a child's birthday party. The hostile promptly dropped as another round found purchase in its skull and sent its soul to hell.

Another pair of Collectors appeared in the window of the structure perpendicular to the resting place of Garrus's latest kill. Shepard's eyes calmly observed the pair before he launched a ball of biotic energy. The warp, though slow, did well to impact its intended target. Both of the assailants, being so close together were caught in the warp. Shepard watched in grim satisfaction as the biotic barriers tore the collectors to shreds. Pieces of flesh and remains of their exoskeletons were flung in various directions.

The satisfaction was short lived however as the fatigue set in; the ex spectre put more effort into the warp than usual. Weaker warps, which are used very commonly, are typically used to make a target's armor useless by weakening the molecular and atomic bonds which allows for projectiles to pass through easier. Though the biotic energy lasts temporarily in both cases, it doesn't need to last for long after a target is shredded if the warp is overloaded.

"This is why Shepard doesn't belong in a kitchen… bringing a whole new meaning to the human term 'minced meat'," said Garrus humorously.

The commander ignored the turian and looked around for more targets, only to realise the absence of said targets, and gunfire in general. It seems that Shepard and Garrus had killed more than they anticipated.

Shepard turned around and widened his eyes in shock and amazement. After years of combat experience and the new addition of cybernetics, Shepard's perception is above human. There isn't much that can get past the commander; a patch of colour that doesn't belong where it is or perhaps a shadow that simply stands out. A mere change in ambient sound is enough to send a soldier the likes of Shepard into a rampage; constantly checking ambush points and the like.

But… to miss the slaughter of an enemy squad mere meters behind you not only impressed Shepard beyond words...

It also scared him.

7 broken corpses littered the home that Shepard's team occupied, murdered with brutal efficiency. Some sported brutal cuts while the chitinous carapaces of other victims were simply shattered revealing the flesh beneath.

"Spirits…" Garrus shared the commander's shock, the both of them have never witnessed an individual that can accomplish such a feat.

He simply couldn't believe the feat he just witnessed, he didn't hear anything behind him. No gunfire, footsteps, bodies hitting the ground, nothing. This means that Six didn't use his guns, just hand to hand combat and immense speed since it seems that even the Collectors didn't get the chance to fire their weapons.

And there was Six, just standing there without a care in the world, as if something like this is a common occurrence for him.

He shuddered as he locked eyes with that visor. How can something so heavy and massive move so quickly? So quietly? How can a human accomplish this feat?

The veteran shook his head in disbelief, he looked up to the ceiling as if praying to some divine being before wiping the disbelief and hesitation from his brain. Years of trudging through gunfire, mud, blood, and corpses taught Shepard the value of wiping his mind clean of emotions. The mission depends on it.

"Six take point, we're right behind you," said Shepard, all traces of awe erased.

The Spartan was quick to follow orders, usually letting his actions speak in place of his words. As emphasis, the titan simply turned around and led the team out of the building, weapon constantly checking for stragglers or counterattackers.

Shepard mirrored the Spartan and kept both his head and weapon on a swivel; they were like sentry turrets with their robotic and rhythmic movements.

Machines in a lifeless maze as silent and as cold as the grave.

As the hostile incursion continued through abandoned city… it continued to observe them with increasing curiosity.

It was familiar with the combat tactics of humans and turians and made to note the above average skills of the turian and human that appeared to be the leader of the strange trio.

It mattered not, they would be assimilated and used against the paltry resistance that will be crushed in the coming months. The assets that have fallen to the incursion is but a mere fraction of the smallest conceivable fraction of the full might of the unstoppable force that will bring this cycle to its end.

Still, the insectoid's curiosity merely increased as the hostiles continued along their paths , slowly weaving through the empty buildings and frozen humans that looked upon them with fearful and pleading eyes in hopes that they could be freed before their supposed saviours disappeared from their peripheral vision.

How fascinating is it to realize that these elite combatants lack the ability to do anything to save the stasis frozens members of their species from what is a token force that has temporarily entrenched its position on this world?

The the semi sentient and routine reliant husk of a formerly intelligent member of a once proud species gazed upon the large, armored human and spared but a moment to appreciate the extensive augmentations that the human is injected with and the powerful armor that it is wreathed in. Most of the damage done by the hostiles can be attributed to this new threat.

Still it knew that this human posed no real threat to the cycle, it would be ripped from its suit, assimilated, and turned against the sentient beings it protects with naught but futility.

As a dozen more of its assets began their descent to ambush and eliminate the useless incursion, it knew that now was the time to intervene.

It connected with one of the nervous systems of the soldiers and felt its consciousness being transferred along with the augmentations needed to strengthen the host.

"I am assuming direct control."

It looked through the perspective of the pawn and locked onto the visor of the armored human and the other two dismayed combatants. Projectiles from the strange human bounced uselessly off of the pawn as the transformation began to occur.

More of the pawns rushed forward and fired off their weapons at the hostiles, the turian almost seemed to drop as combined fire brought it down, though it was likely still alive.

The armored human, seeing the futility of its range assault, rushed forward and breakneck speeds. The former sentient mind almost scoffed at such futility and reeled back a bioticly enhanced fist.

If the pawns can't deal with the threat, then the king will remove the issue personally.

Surprised at my unexpected appearance? Yes I know it's been too long, but with school and the need to succeed to get to university getting in the way, I've become lazy with other things such as this story. This chapter is shorter than usual I know, hopefully you guys can forgive the shortness of this chapter and the length at which it took for me to get it out. But, just so you know… THIS STORY IS NOT DEAD! It will never die I promise you that, no matter how long it takes for me to update. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy, please share your thoughts with me, constructive criticism and praise is always appreciated!