Shadow Contingency (v2)

To safeguard the UEG and its secrets, Task Forces with plausible deniability must be created in order to identify and neutralise threats posed by foreign and domestic powers.
-Shadow Contingency Abstract

Acknowledgements

My sincerest gratitude to Lady Pryde (who now goes by Silky Button) who helped me develop the story, for months on end… as well as putting up with my incessant pestering for her opinion on my latest idea or cover image.

Foreword

Hello all, this is a story I've had in the works for quite some time now. It was an idea I developed with Lady Pryde, to address the shortcomings that were in Lost Legacy. Though this story may be the spiritual successor of Lost Legacy, it is not related to it lore wise. Characters and tech have been revised, but overall, they are not the carbon copies of their Lost Legacy counterparts.

Will this story cover the Reclaimer Trilogy? Yes – well no… not really, there will be themes and elements of the Reclaimer Trilogy that I will include in the story, but overall, assume that the Reclaimer Trilogy is non-grata. I really want to focus on the dynamics of the Bungie's vanilla Halo and Mass Effect factions.

You'll also notice that the original version is still up. I decided against replacing it for a few reasons, among which I do not want to erase a version I have already spent so much time and effort on.

Author's notes

I've made major changes to the story, rewriting the lore, as well as changing the characters. As many of you know, when it comes to mass effect, I've largely used FemShep as the MEverse lead. In an effort to not repeat Lost Legacy, I'll be changing the MEverse lead to bro-shep. This does mean I will be getting rid of femShep. But not to worry, she will reappear in another upcoming story.

I've also lopped off a lot of story threads that though I do find interesting, would bog down the story, and most likely make you, the reader, lose interest.

Another note, I have made the UNSC and the Covenant have access to some access to mass effect technologies.

…

Prologue

…

"There was once a time, when we would gaze up into the stars, and wonder where our place might be among them, we'd imagine the worlds and people we would see, and envision the future we would eventually live in. But in one day, we lost all that… out of the blackness of space, the Covenant came, and with their arrival came the harsh reality that extinction could be an inevitability, that this war cannot be won by ordinary humans."
-Ezra Camerons, Journalist

…

1220 hours (local time), February 6th, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)
Walker Highway, Monte Pontu Province, Eden Prime

Calling this one-lane road a highway was being generous, but despite the small size, that's what it was. It connected the farming settlements of Monte Pontu to the highway network.

The op was simple, extract a package at Site Mausoleum, and get it off-world. Easy enough, but there were Innies here who'd do anything just to spite the UNSC, and they had help on the inside.

They'd already taken down one Albatross Heavy Dropship already, and with the loss of priceless artefacts onboard, ONI had been desperate enough to request help from the Special Intelligence Services Agency (SISA). That was where Operative Matthew Shepard and his team came in. They were to extract the last artefact off the planet by moving it to a secure spaceport via ground convoy.

"Stay frosty, they may be UNSC but they're still CMA," he COM'd.

"Heads up Canine, you've got, dirt roads one klick out," a male voice broadcasted.

"Copy that Baron," Shepard replied.

"Hate dirt roads," said the Langley Chen, a fellow spook at the wheel.

"Yeah, dirt roads make me nervous," Shepard agreed.

Matthew ran a gloved hand across his close-shaven head.

The large armoured freighter truck rolled over the broken roads, jostling the people inside.

"Shit, hope nothing broke," Langley muttered.

Shepard keyed his COM channel again.

"Baron, I need a sitrep on Beaumont traffic conditions."

"Holiday season, traffic should be moderate. Everything looks clear for now."

A sense of dread pooled in Shepard's stomach, just as a fiery hand lit a flame on his neck. Dust kicked up by heavy wheels blanketed the entire convoy, obscuring vision.

The seconds ticked by, punctuated by the sound of dirt hitting the car.

"How're we looking, Baron?" Shepard COM'd.

"No activity. Paved road two klicks out."

Shepard was all too happy to welcome the sound of asphalt rolling beneath him once more.

"So far so good," he murmured. "Miranda, how's it looking like out there?"

Miranda Lawson sat in the back seat, monitoring the sensor feeds. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she cycled through the scanners.

"Nothing," she said worriedly.

"Baron, you getting anything?"

"Uh… nothing. You're clear."

Shepard gripped his rifle a little tighter, his leg bounced up and down as he scanned his eyes across the farmlands.

Passing by another sign, Matthew let out an uneasy exhale.

"Canine, be advised, traffic conditions have worsened. Do you want to take a different route?"

Matthew weighed out his options.

"We'll be sitting ducks in traffic," Lang said.

"But traffic will stop the innies from di di maoing with the package," Miranda countered.

"Too much background in traffic, there's gonna be civilian casualties," Shepard said.

Matthew mulled over his choices.

"Baron, how's the beach looking?"

"One sec, adjusting. Hunnington is clear. Couple of surfers on the waves. Brighton's too crowded."

"Alright, have the local PD clear us a path after Hunnington. We'll take it and then get onto…"

Shepard zoomed in on his map.

"Dale Drive."

"Copy that, Canine-Actual."

The convoy slowed down as it approached the entry ramp onto Rodeo Highway. In front of the armoured freighter, two police patrol cars led the formation, followed by two warthogs with LMGs, a SWAT armoured van, and then two armoured SUVs that contained the UNSC Army Spec Ops that answered to Shepard. The formation was mirrored behind the truck.

There were only five vehicles with people inside that Shepard could trust. Everyone else, they had been cobbled together barely at a moment's notice. Despite the high-value nature of the package, the war still demanded most of the UNSC's resources.

"Canine-Actual, be advised. There's traffic up ahead. Car accident. Might be a while before it's cleared out."

"Copy that, Baron."

Another minute passed, the convoy crested over a hill, revealing the traffic jam that stretched before them.

Matthew picked up the microphone and held it close.

"Baron, how's our alternate route coming along?"

"Police are on site, clearing you a line. Once you pass the barriers, you are clear to off-road."

As the convoy neared the long line of cars, the lead police car turned onto an emergency vehicle lane. The rest of the convoy followed. But because of the truck's large size, they couldn't just charge through at breakneck speeds. Everyone was on edge. Shepard and Lawson had shouldered their weapons, ready to kick the doors open and rush out guns blazing if need be.

The convoy rolled through without a hitch, but that didn't mean they could breathe easy just yet. Moving across the beach, Shepard welcomed the vast open fields that would betray any would-be ambushers. They roared past the beach houses, garnering looks from a gathering on a porch.

"Great day out for a swim," Miranda commented.

"Lovely day out for a tan," Langley agreed.

Shepard glanced at the SatNav. They were a few minutes out from Dale Drive. From his elevated seat, he could already see the flashing lights of the police cars in the distance that were already clearing the way for them.

Approaching the hill onto Dale Drive, Shepard could see two police cars at the bottom where the grass met the sand, and two more at the top, redirecting traffic.

Langley pressed down on the accelerator, willing the rig to launch itself up the slope. Slowly but surely, the big truck managed to pull itself onto the redoubt and onto Dale Drive.

Shepard checked the SatNav again. Rodeo Highway was still blocked.

Dale drive stretched across the waterfront, and as the convoy entered Brighton Beach, Shepard almost felt jealous for not being one of the family goers enjoying the surf.

"Wish you could join in on the fun?" Langley asked, nodding towards the people on the beach.

"This is where the fun is, Lang," Shepard said. "Big wheels, big guns."

"And some pant shitting action," Yi-Chun added.

The beach houses on Dale Drive soon gave way to low-density apartment blocks of Cameron Avenue.

"Eyes peeled people, if they're gonna try anything, it's gonna be here," Shepard radioed.

"Got a lotta background here," Lawson said.

"Yeah, seems a bit crowded here," Shepard said.

"Lot of eyes on us," one of the SWORD operators radioed.

"Could be civies enjoying the show," Shepard replied. "Stay frosty."

"Canine, you've got contact high!" Baron yelled.

"Fuck," Shepard hissed. He leaned to one side, trying to see the roofs. "I don't see them!"

"Contact high!"

Time slowed to a painful crawl as a rocket entered Shepard's vision. The warhead streaked towards the SUV in front of the rig. But the active missile defence system kicked in. The rocket exploded just above the car, showering the vehicle in a hail of sparks.

The patrol cars weren't so fortunate to have active missile defence. Rockets slammed into them and exploded with shocking force. The lead police car was hit in the side, and engulfed in flame. The second was hit in the engine block and came to a screeching halt. The SWAT van swerved to avoid running over the patrol car, but in all the chaos, no one spotted a low fast-moving ground drone that ran underneath the van and detonated its explosives. A column of smoke and fire lifted the van's rear into the sky and tore off the wheels. The truck came crashing down, blocking the road.

Shepard lurched forward in his seat as Langley slammed the breaks. But the rig was a heavy vehicle, and it continued on into the front SUV, crushing the boot.

"Damn it," he hissed.

"Canine-Three, status?" Shepard barked.

"We're good – oh shit! Down! Down! Down!"

One of the Warthogs turned its guns onto the SUVs and opened fire. The heavy calibre rounds drained the barriers and tore through windows. The other front Hog reversed and drove around onto the other side of the avenue and hosed the SWAT van.

"Baron, engage! Engage!"

"Heads down! Firing for effect!"

The drone's autocannons opened up, sending a trio of airburst shells towards the Warthog attacking the van. The rounds detonated around the 'Hog, shockwaves pummelling the crew to death.

The second Warthog would've suffered the same fate, had it not been for the insurrectionist snipers that drew the drone operator's attention.

"Everybody down!" Shepard roared.

The barriers took multiple hits from gauss shells, draining the shields and leaving the armoured glass at the mercy of the mounted rotary gun. Heavy calibre bullets smashed through the class and tore through the upholstery, blanketing the FIA team with seat-filling.

Matthew's ears were filled with a high pitched ring. He shook his head clear and steadied himself against the dash. Reaching for the handle, he pulled the latch and shoved the door open. Shepard lunged onto the ground, grunting as the wind was knocked out of his chest. Scrambling to his feet, he threw himself behind the engine block of an adjacent car.

"Stay down!" he yelled.

He wasn't too sure the family inside could hear him, or even if they were still alive. Matthew quickly leaned out of cover, exposing as little of himself as he possibly could to draw a bead on the gunner. He squeezed the trigger in quick succession, feeling the rifle kick into his shoulder. A trio of rounds flew through the air and hit the gunner's shields. He sensed Miranda come up behind him, resting her rifle's foregrip onto the boot of the car. Taking aim, she flicked her weapon onto auto and let a hail of bullets stream from her short barrel PDW.

A bullet managed to hit the gunner's helmet, knocking him off balance. It was the opening the pinned SWORD operators needed. The UNSC Army's premier Special Operations soldiers looking worse for wear, rapidly dismounted and began engaging the rogue Marines.

Shepard, Miranda, and Langley broke cover and advanced on the Hog. The renegade Marines fired back, their guns chattering, spitting bullets at the core teams.

"Shit, contact right, three o'clock!"

Matthew looked to his right; SWAT officers were coming out of the alleyways, weapons trained squarely on their position. Vans and trucks crashed onto the scene, offloading dozens of hostiles.

The officers opened with automatic fire, forcing Shepard to duck into cover. Glass shattered all around him, gunfire drowned out the screams of frightened children. He peeked out of cover and fired. Three rounds caught the officer squarely in the chest, overloading the barriers and toppling the man over.

An operator flanked left of the Warthog, and gained a perfect firing position. He emptied three rounds into the gunner, overwhelming the Marine's shields. The Swordsman fired another two rounds centre mass, but the body armour held. Adjusting his aim, he quickly lined his sights onto the head and squeezed the trigger twice. The first bullet knocked the gunner into the machine gun and loosened the helmet. The second round met flesh and bone at the base of the skull.

Langley flanked right of the 'Hog, sidestepping or cutting-the-pie whilst firing in short bursts. His bullets caught a Marine in her arm, and another in her leg. She fell out of sight, behind the hog. Lang went prone, drawing a bead on the fallen Marine, and fired. Her body convulsed as the heavy calibre rounds chewed through her.

SWORD marksmen took cover behind engine blocks and returned fire on hostiles up high with the help of the drone. The thunder of their rifles filled the air as they nailed the less armoured insurrectionists. The rogue SWAT still remained firmly engaged with the SWORD assaulters. Despite not being as rigorously trained as spec ops, the SWAT officers were still largely competent. They kept close to cover, and fired in quick bursts, not wildly like the less well-equipped innies.

A SWORD team from one of the trailing SUVs advanced up the convoy, flanking the SWAT on both sides. Caught off guard, the insurrectionists and SWAT fell to accurate gunfire. The enemy force soon lost their nerve and began to retreat, leaving themselves at the mercy of the overhead drone.

The ambush had ended as quickly as it began.

"Clear front!" an operator called out.

"Please, don't shoot!" the pleading voice came from behind.

Shepard turned around, and moved towards the rear of the convoy, weapons raised. Behind him followed the other Swordsmen, with only three staying behind to watch their front.

The SWORD team in the trailing SUVs had already fanned out, weapons trained on the surrendering Marines and SWAT officers.

"Hands! Hands! Show me your hands!" an operator barked.

"We're not them! We're not them," a uniformed cried frantically, huddling over a wounded officer.

"On the ground! Now!" Yi-Chun ordered.

The Marines and the police did as they were told.

SWORDs cautiously moved forward, kicking away weapons.

"Please, he's bleeding!" the same officer said again as his hands were tied together with a zip cord.

Miranda knelt next to the wounded SWAT officer and pulled his sidearm from his thigh holster. Unloading the mag, she tossed the empty pistol out of reach, before focusing on the wound. Lawson pulled the medigel canister from the officer's belt and injected it into the wound. The man squirmed, his teeth gritted as the fiery sensation of the foam spread through the bullet hole.

"That should stop the bleeding for now," she said.

"Baron, what's it looking like?" Shepard asked.

"Police are en route, Canine."

"Tell 'em to back off. Until we bug out."

"Copy that, Canine."

Shepard took a step back to survey the carnage. Dozens of civilian casualties, with a few dozen more insurrectionists dead. A few balconies were smouldering with bits of meat smeared all over them. Matthew looked over at the armoured SUVs. Had the vehicles been any lower, the 'Hog's gun's level of elevation would've killed the SWORD operators inside the first SUV.

"Lang, how's the truck?" Shepard COM'd.

"Engine's fine, missing a bit of steering wheel. We'll probably get a ticket for the cracked windshield."

Miranda came up to Shepard, her head still on a swivel.

"Casualties on our end?" Matthew asked.

"Minor," Lawson answered. "Some of the Swords are banged up, but they can fight."

…

With the help of the local police clearing the way, the convoy made it to the airport within the hour. The trucks roared past traffic, undoubtedly garnering looks from the public. The vehicles were battered, riddled with bullet holes and caked in dirt.

"Hanger six," Shepard COM'd.

"Copy that, hangar six."

The lead SUV turned left, following the maintenance roads. A security detail waited outside the hangar. Two Hornets with snipers orbited the area, deterring any would-be attackers.

Langley steered the big rig into the hangar, parking it next to the ramp of a C-150 transport. Next to the aircraft stood a team of ONISAD operatives, shifting their weight about tensely.

Shepard dismounted the truck, brushing a bit of fluff off his arm before greeting the ONI team.

"Nice to see you could make it, Phil."

"We had a problem with customs. Sorry, we couldn't make it in time."

"At least you got here, the package is your problem now."

Walking up to the security console on the rig, Shepard entered in his password, followed by Phil. The trailer locks disengaged, allowing the doors to be opened. Inside were five black ovular-prisms, adorned with teal lines. It wasn't Covenant, and it wasn't human either. Whatever it was, he doubted the insurrectionists knew either – or even cared.

Matthew was just happy to have the package taken off his hands.

…

1300 hours, local time
Oshtal, Terminus Systems

The human looked up at him, with her eyes dull and in shock. Her clothes had been torn off, her legs parted wide. The mere thought of what had happened moments before made Jondum Bau's stomach turn.

"It's okay," he said softly in English. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The girl said nothing. It was as if the soul had left the body behind to escape the horrors.

Bau unfurled a thermal blanket in his bag and gently held it up in front of him.

"I swear to you, I will not let them harm you," he continued.

The girl's eyes slowly turned to him.

With infinite care, Bau placed the blanket onto her, and slowly stepped back.

"O-okay," the human stammered. "They're… they're not coming back… are they?"

Bau shook his head.

"They'll have to get through me first. May I learn your name?"

"Alicia."

"Alicia, well, my name is Jondum Bau. I'm a Spectre."

Alicia didn't say anything. She was too afraid to speak.

What have they done to you? Bau wondered.

"A Spectre is a Special Agent, tasked by Citadel Council Leadership to investigate high profile crimes and other matters that threaten galactic peace."

Alicia looked at him blankly.

"I want to help you."

Alicia still said nothing.

"I'm taking you to a human settlement. It's not much but at least they'll look out for you."

1300 hours, local time
Omega

Jondum Bau was a seasoned Spectre, with an illustrious career under his belt. He had pre-emptively ended wars before they began, and rooted out corruption at the highest levels of government. But just because his missions were high stakes, didn't mean he didn't take on less critical missions.

Despite salarian culture of hyper-competitiveness and hyper-meritocracy, it did not eschew generosity and charity. As the asari always espoused, cooperation and compassion are vital to survival. Bau agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly, and whenever he could, sort to break slaver rings. He was more sentimental than most salarians, but he viewed that as a point of pride. The removal of a slaver ring didn't always mean a safer galaxy, but it did mean that the list of freed slaves would expand.

Quarians were prized slaves. They were rare, difficult to capture, and even harder to hold on to. The quarians may be a nomadic species that were looked down upon by the rest of the galaxy, but their style of revenge earned them respect. As a species, they were always facing extinction, and that made them desperate. Some of the most brazen revenge missions were committed by Quarian Intelligence.

Just two standard years ago, the Batarian Ambassador was kidnapped and his personal security detail was killed after their skycar convoy was sabotaged. Everything about the attack was deliberate, no civilian casualties, no evidence of involvement other than a simple message that showed the Ambassador was in possession of two quarrian slaves. The autopsy revealed the ambassador had been tortured for hours. It had been a huge embarrassment for C-Sec, and of course, the Quarian government denied any involvement.

Bau didn't know the end of that story. He'd like to think the quarians were rescued.

Those quarians had the benefit of their own looking out for them, but there were other species that weren't so fortunate. They were species that had just left the safety of their solar system, just barely reaching out to the stars, only to be crushed mercilessly and enslaved.

With a galaxy so large, does anyone really notice a new species entering the fold? That was the general attitude. No one really cared if a new sentient species was encountered. It happened often enough that people stopped paying attention. Humanity had been one of those species that was at the bottom of the barrel.

No one cared about them, or more accurately, no one who knew of them cared.

They were a sexually dimorphic species. Evolution had designed the male of the species to be the hunters, and the females to be the nurturers. Strangely enough, human females were very similar in appearance to the asari, however, since they did not produce the same kind of pheromones the asari produced, they weren't considered as attractive.

Still, being less attractive than the Asari, didn't make human females any less sort after for sport.

Here on Omega, there was a small but sizeable population of humans. They were the rough and tumble, mixed with the desperate and destitute. Jondum Bau had observed them from afar. Their leaders were Zaeed Massani and Ronald Taylor, not exactly the most refined, but they were decent enough. And on Omega, decent meant the world.

Taking a deliberately slow pace along a path he had taken many times, Jondum Bau led Alice towards the human settlement.

He wished he could be taking her back to a proper human settlement, just like how he could take an asari back into Citadel space. Here, on Omega, Alice would still have to fend for herself. But at least she would be free.

…

1530 hours, June 7th, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)
ONI CASTLE Base, Reach

The war was coming to an end, he could feel it. One way or another, it was going to end soon. Blinking away the tiredness in his eyes Lieutenant Colonel Richard Keyes spun a pen around his fingers as he read through the reports.

"Colonel," Cooper interrupted.

The AI's avatar was modelled after a monolithic robot from one of Keyes's favourite childhood movie. Despite lacking any anthropomorphic features, the silvery blue slab had "appendages" and joints which gave him an endearing human quality.

"Yes?"

"Admiral Parangosky is here, as you requested, sir."

"Thank you, I'll be out to meet her in a moment."

"Of course."

Logging off his computer, Keyes pushed his chair under his desk and checked his sidearm. Straightening his tie and his Air Force jacket, he picked up his datapad and augmented reality glasses, and headed out into the foyer.

"I trust this is important," Parangosky said neutrally.

"Yes ma'am," Keyes nodded, and lightly gestured for her to follow.

The ensemble of shoes and boots gently thumped along the tiled floors of the base. Keyes led them through a labyrinth of security checkpoints before reaching the shuttle tubes.

"After you," he gestured.

Two guards went in first, then Parangosky stepped in, followed by Keyes and then the rest of her detail. The doors closed, and the locks hissed shut. He felt the acceleration of the shuttle as it shot through the tube, eventually coming to a halt as it reached the lower levels of the base.

Keyes was the first to step out, giving his challenge ID and countersign to the security station. Passing through another maze of security checkpoints and patrols, the group finally reached their destination. The Colonel led them into an observation room, granting Parangosky a view of the occupant in the chamber below.

"What exactly am I looking at?" the Admiral asked, looking at the unknown alien.

It was humanoid, wore red armour reminiscent of Feudal Japan. Its dark turquoise green skin was similar to that of an amphibian, and its four eyes panned across the room warily.

"A species referred to as a Prothean," Keyes explained. "Found him in a stasis pod on Eden Prime."

"Attempts at communication?" she asked.

"Mind-meld," Keyes answered. "Intern came into contact with it. Also, shows an incredible ability to read organic residue."

Parangosky looked at him with an arched brow as if the lack of holidays had begun to take their toll on him.

"When we woke the Prothean, he was disoriented and panicking. Exhibited green praecan abilities," the Colonel elaborated.

"Praecan?" Parangosky asked. "You mean biotics?"

Keyes nodded.

Tapping a few keys on the nearby console, he brought up the security footage of the incident. After revival, two scientists had hovered over the alien, and without warning or provocation, a dark emerald mist hurled the scientists a few metres back.

"He was confused," Keyes explained. "But he's got his bearings now."

"What have we learned so far?"

"He's been in stasis for at least fifty thousand years," Richard answered. "No evidence to suggest any relation to the Forerunners. He says his species were wiped out by the Reapers."

"Reapers?"

"I don't know," Keyes said, shaking his head. "He became agitated, ranting about warnings his species placed. We'll try talking to him again once he's cooled down."

Parangosky took a step closer to the monitory.

"Find out what he knows, use any means necessary, chemical or otherwise," she commanded.

"Might be difficult. We don't know anything about his biology."

"Just get it done."

Without waiting for a goodbye, the Head of ONI turned and left, leaving Keyes alone. Taking a quick glance at his watch, he guessed there was enough time for another chat before he headed home for the day.

Navigating his way to a vault nearby, Richard quickly ran through the security measures before picking up a Prothean artefact before heading back.

It was against protocol for a Project Lead to interact with unknown subjects, but Keyes doubted Parangosky would care. This Prothean was most likely the last of its kind, and Richard wanted answers up front, instead of talking via proxy.

He walked to the elevators and readjusted his dark navy blue tie. In one hand he held a datapad, and in the other, a Prothean artefact.

Richard walked out into the cavernous room where a table and other amenities had been placed. Guards patrolled in the shadows, and on the catwalks above. The Prothean looked at Keyes, all four yellow eyes with oddly shaped irises focused on him as his shoes padded silently along the concrete floor.

Placing the artefact front of the Prothean, and the tablet off to a side, Keyes pulled out the chair and eased himself into the synthetic leather seat. Scooting in closer to the table, he cleared his throat.

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Richard Keyes," he introduced himself. "And you are?"

"Prothean."

"You said that last time. What's your name?"

"Javik," the alien answered slowly.

"Why were you in stasis?"

The Prothean expression shifted something closer to that of human exasperation.

"You were already watching in the beginning… this is pointless," he growled.

He had an accent similar to that of a Nigerian, possibly due to the vocal muscles.

Richard's expression hardened as he shuffled through the files, keeping his eyes firmly locked onto the Prothean's centre two.

"Level with me," Keyes began. "Just need to make sure we have your story right."

Javik's four eyes flashed in annoyance.

"Alright, tell me about the Reapers. What are they?" Richard pressed. "Talk to me as you would a child."

"They are machines from dark space. Every fifty thousand years they come to harvest the advanced species, erasing almost everything about them."

A worried frown made its way across Keyes's face.

Javik held the device over the centre of the table, projecting a red holographic model into the air. It looked like a mechanised squid or a cuttlefish. Characters began to scroll beside the projection; characters Richard couldn't understand but assumed it was a technical specification – or so he guessed. He couldn't understand the glyphs but hopefully, Cooper would be able to translate.

"You were in stasis so you could guide this… era to fight the Reapers?"

Javik nodded.

"Yes," the Prothean said solemnly. "We would be in the pods, waiting for the Reapers to return to dark space. Then we would rise, a million strong."

The excavation team had uncovered thousands of stasis pods with Prothean remains in various stages of decay, most were bone or charred ashes, but some had died recently. Power failure and lack of automation had resigned a lot of the occupants to death in their sleep. The system had been horrifically flawed in Keyes's opinion. At the sign of power failure, triage protocols should've woken up whoever remained, not leave them to die within the pods.

"We haven't found anyone else," Richard said.

"I suspected as much."

Keyes activated the datapad, bringing up a galactic map of the Milky Way.

"How long did this war against the Reapers go on for?"

"Before I was born. By the time of my birth, my home was already in flames. I only learnt of what was through the memories of my ancestors."

Richard clasped both hands onto the table.

"And?"

"We were a proud race. Our empire spanned across the entire galaxy. We used the Mass Relays to expand our borders and to meet new species."

"Relays? These installations?" Keyes asked.

Swiping at the tablet, Keyes brought up a holographic image of a space station shaped like a tuning fork, with a bulbous end containing two gyroscopic rings encasing an orb of energy.

"Yes, the Mass Relays. We thought they were built by the Inusannon, but they were the creation of the Reapers. The relays would dictate the technological progress and expansion of any species. By the time we had learnt this, it was too late."

"The Inusannon came before you?"

"We believe so."

"Did they give you any clues? Anything to help you during the war?"

"No. We became desperate," Javik said sadly. "Every battle conjured a new nightmare. The Reapers were turning our own against us, forcing us to kill our own children. We fought them through attrition, system by system, planet by planet, city by city. But the Reapers, they were unstoppable. We sacrificed planets to regroup. The time they spent harvesting was the time we spent gathering our strength."

"Must've cost you in the long run."

Javik nodded.

"With every harvest, they gained far more strength than we could. We were delaying the inevitable. Our empire was already fractured by my birth. We could not communicate with one another; no one knew what the other was doing. The Relays, the Reapers deactivated them, crippling us, stranding countless soldiers on planets. We had to use our own ships to travel the galaxy."

Richard felt an all too familiar chill creep down his spine.

"What happened to the other species?"

"They became Prothean, one of us."

"Subjugation or by choice?" Keyes challenged.

"We offered them a choice. Join us, or face the Reapers alone. Our unity was our greatest strength, but also our greatest weakness. Once the Reapers found our flaw, we could not adapt."

"That doesn't make any sense," Richard said flatly.

"What doesn't?"

"Every superpower doesn't use one doctrine, they use a combination to avoid flaws."

"Combined arms only works against a foe of similar strength or weaker. Against the Reapers… it was no use."

A small vibration thrummed through his wrist, signalling he had just received a message. Pressing the command on his smartwatch, the message popped up in the lower half of his optical heads up display.

Beacon decrypted… you might want to see this. Our resident might be helpful too.

Looking back at the Prothean, Richard cleared his throat.

"We'd like you to take a look at a few things for us. Beacons about your history."

"Hmmm. What do you seek?" Javik huffed.

"I'm not asking you to give away your state secrets, but context into what we're looking at would be nice."

"My history?"

Keyes nodded.

"What does it matter about my people? They are dead now."

…

1324 hours, July 24th, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)
Olympic Tower, Reach

"Winter Contingency has been enacted."

Keyes looked up from his desk and gazed out the windows. Hundreds of UNSC aircrafts were taking to the skies. The red and blue flashes of the New Alexandria Police Department flooded the streets below. This was the chaos before the Covenant's assault. Men and women would run frantically to their cars, speeding through traffic to get to their families.

Security Personnel began to move through the office hallways, making their way to the private section that was his office.

"Sir, we need to go," Agent Jameson Locke urged, as he pushed the glass doors open. "Stanforth's orders."

Richard swore silently, hesitant to leave. His mother and Javik were still at CASTLE Base.

"Sir, I've been given orders to extract you by any means necessary," Jameson said, pulling Keyes away from his desk.

The Lieutenant Colonel quickly checked the pistol in his thigh holster, and pulled on an armoured vest, forgoing his coat. Adjusting his AR glasses, he fell into step with the ONI Special Activities Division Team as they guided him through the areas of cubicles and workstations.

ONI personnel were quickly moving from station to station, purging all work data or sending it to an offsite facility before being herded out by security.

Entering the lifts, Keyes opened up his TACPAD and interfaced into the secure channels.

"Holton, you there?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Yeah?" he answered his voice dry and grave.

"Where are you?"

"We're on lockdown here, they're evacuating us."

"I need a favour."

"Yeah?"

"Make sure the Subject in Room-Four-Two-A, gets out okay."

"That's xenobio."

"Do me a favour, and go. I'll send you the priority codes."

"Fine… but if I die, I'll haunt your ass."

The link was then terminated.

Keyes rolled his eyes. Switching channels, he entered in a new contact.

"Richard?" an elderly woman answered.

"Mum, where are you?"

"Richard? I'm so sorry. We've been cut off. Look, don't worry about me or your dad. Just focus on getting yourself back to Earth."

Keyes clenched his jaw, tightening his grip on a nearby handle.

"Sword is still green."

"No, Richard… the base is on full lockdown, no one gets in or out. Don't worry about me… just get home safely."

"Alright… I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Richard," Halsey said, barely above a whisper. "Be safe, sweetheart."

"Yeah, you too."

Keyes cleared his throat and turned off his COMs.

The rest of the elevator trip down remained quiet, Richard kept his gaze firmly on the console, watching the numbers tick by. Coming to rest, the doors parted open, allowing the team to usher the Lieutenant Colonel out.

Security was everywhere, manning checkpoints and standing at evacuation intersections in the underground foyer. Everything was so loud, and yet so quiet at the same time. Many here knew how many worlds had burned before Reach, Keyes had the feeling that a lot of them believed they were never going to see their families again.

"Sir, this way," Locke said, leading him to a vactrain carriage.

Stepping through the airlock, Keyes secured himself in one of the seats and breathed heavily as he tried to hide his shaking hand. Forcing his stiff fingers to work, he called his mother again. But there was no connection on the secure channels.

"Dammit," he murmured.

The sound of the hissing locks registered in his ear, followed by the sensation of acceleration pushing against his whole body. Non-electrical glow lights streaked by as the carriage shot through the vacuum tube.

Richard kept himself busy by working on his device, looking at the combat reports flooding the network. Reach was already lost; anyone who was left was just delaying the inevitable.

…

September 19th, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)
UNSC HIGHCOM Facility Bravo-6 "The Hive"
Sydney, Australia

The jump back to Earth was spent in virtual isolation, without knowing how Reach was developing. The wait had been killing him until a lone Prowler made it back with the news. Several days later, civilian shuttles and UNSC escorts arrived, but the numbers of those who survived were tragically low.

Richard didn't know if his mother had made it out alive, or if his father was still in the fight. The reports were meagre, not enough to form a coherent image. CASTLE was up for grabs, but a large portion destroyed, and Sword Base overrun. Most of the UNSC garrison had been wiped out, but at least the Pillar of Autumn was last seen making a slipspace jump.

Lieutenant Wagner reported that Keyes's father had made it off Reach, but whether he was alive or not was still an open question.

The elevator came to a halt at its final destination. The doors parted open, revealing a sparsely decorated foyer, which primarily relied on a holo-landscape display of the Sydney Harbour, segmented metal panels and indirect lighting to give it some kind of flare.

Walking along the carpet, Richard stopped by the front desk, manned by three receptionists. Bit overkill, but he knew that the two men and women were more than capable with a firearm.

"The Committee is ready to see you, Colonel," the woman said.

"Thank you."

Passing through the dual doors flanked by armed MPs, Keyes entered the Committee chambers. It was dark, barely lit by dull azure blue lights illuminating the UNSC Insignia on the floor.

"Colonel Keyes," Hood greeted. "Thank you for coming."

"Sir."

There were a surprising number of empty chairs, most of it from ONI. Section II Deputy Head was vacant, and so were both Section III chairs.

"We're here to discuss your promotion."

Richard's eyes flickered over to the empty chairs.

"A unanimous decision has been made, that you will be the Acting Head of Military Intelligence Section III. Congratulations Brigadier General."

The Committee gave him a curt nod, but no applause. No one was really in the mood for celebration.

"Thank you, sir, but… what about Colonel Ackerson?"

"Colonel Ackerson has been deployed… you're next in line. Please, take your seat," Hood gestured.

Richard decided to drop the subject of why he was now the Acting Head. Walking around the curved table, he pulled out the chair and eased himself into the leather cushions. He felt the servos kick in as they automatically shifted to the contours of his body. Looking to his right, Admiral Margaret Parangosky, the CINCONI gave him a slight nod and returned her attention back to Hood.

"Now, Keyes, you said you wanted to present something about a… Prothean?"

Richard nodded, and placed a small device onto the table, interfacing it with the room's monitors.

"We discovered this Prothean on Eden Prime, one of our Outer Colonies," he began. "His name is Javik, a military commander."

A humanoid appeared on the monitors and projectors. He was clad in armour reminiscent of Feudal Japan, with his three-digit hands, and two-digits on his feet, left exposed.

"What happened to his species?" asked Major General Nicholas Strauss, the liaison from the Army.

A crease formed in Richard's forehead.

"Destroyed… by an entity known as the Reapers, some fifty thousand years ago."

Another image appeared on the central holoprojector. It appeared to be a purple mechanised cuttlefish.

"His species has the ability to read their environment through organic residue; a skill that made them prime hunters. They quickly evolved and became space faring."

"Any relations to the Forerunner?"

Richard shook his head.

"No. Apparently they used these Mass Effect Relays, much like the one we found near Elysium. There could be more, but they are hard to detect. The Protheans used this network to expand their influence."

"Who built the Relays?" Strauss asked.

"The Protheans thought it was their predecessors, but it turns out it was built by the Reapers."

"And they are?"

"Sentient ships that harvest advance species every fifty thousand years," Keyes said gravely. "Our analysts believe that the Relays are a means for the Reapers to influence development, something that Javik confirms."

A galactic map appeared on screen, with red lines running across the stars like veins.

"These are known Relay lanes," said Keyes. "Virtually instantaneous travel across the entire galaxy. However, there should be a Relay in Sol if we are to go by the pattern of dispersion."

"Looks like interference," said Strauss.

Richard nodded.

"Could be the Reapers, could've been the Forerunners. We don't know."

"Know or not is irrelevant at the moment," Hood interrupted, raising his hand. "Time is not our friend here. If Javik has anything useful, use it. If not, shelve it."

Richard nodded. "Yes sir."

…

Email Archive

January 15th, 2551

From: Richard R.E. Keyes
To: Musa-096

Subject: Spartan-IV Program

Musa,

What you and Parangosky are requesting cannot be done. My team and I have run through hundreds of simulations, each concluding that the augmentations will result in death or serious injury of any adult candidates.

As requested, I've attached the procedures and chemical compounds to this email.

I have also provided another set of augmentations which will guarantee 100% effectiveness for adult candidates; however, they will not reach your desired results.

Regards,

Doctor Richard R.E. Keyes
Thetis Cell

…

Afterword

Well, there we are, the first chapter of Shadow Contingency has landed. Love it? Hate it? Leave a review and let me know.