Good evening, and welcome!

This story is most definitely a work in progress. I'm plotting and making things up as I go, trying to tie everything together and make it all into one solid whole. That said, I hope you enjoy reading it, and forgive me if I make any glaring errors.

This story is set AU to both fandoms. On the Mass Effect side, this takes place during the same decade the game is set, but the plot of the game just doesn't exist. The Normandy's mission to Eden Prime went well enough, with Nihilus' reccomendation Commander Shepard became the first human Spectre, and the galaxy continued on as it should have. On the Transformers side...well, there's a lot of stuff that's different. You'll have to wait and see. 83

Prologue to World Conquest

In all of his years as captain, Niiras'Faron vas Rezna had never seen or heard anything like this.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the ship for what felt like the millionth time. He had never been a superstitious person, but his instinct had rarely led him astray—and even before the first transmission had come to them, that instinct had been telling him something was wrong.

The ship was easily twice as large as any dreadnought, far outclassing their tiny frigate. It radiated massive amounts of heat, more than any ship should have been able to generate without lethal consequences for its crew. And something about it sent shivers down his spine. As silly as it seemed, the thing just looked ominous. The architecture looked strange, alien to his eyes—and he had seen the ships of every starfaring race in the galaxy. This one was all sharp curves and jutting angles, its purple-plated hull scorched black in countless places. A survivor of many battles... It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

"Captain, I think they're hailing us again."

Niiras tore his gaze from the windows. "Put them through."

His communications officer pressed a button on his console, and the message—if it could be called a message—echoed across the bridge. The collection of sound, mechanical whirrs and beeps, was incomprehensible. It certainly wasn't Galactic Basic, and it didn't match any other alien language in their database. It could have been some kind of code, but it wasn't quarian, and his language expert was still working to decode it. There was only one thing any of them could be absolutely positive of: The transmission had been beamed to them from the ship hovering in orbit before them.

The message ended abruptly, and Niiras turned to his decryptor. "Any luck this time?"

"None at all." She shook her head, frustration obvious in her voice. "I mean, someone must be on board if they're sending us a transmission, and if it was broadcast over multiple frequencies the ship has to be hailing us, but as far as I can tell the sounds doesn't match any language in existence, which is ridiculous, because it obviously exists, but—"

"Lyza." Niiras kept his voice steady. "Focus, please."

Lyza ducked her head and mumbled an apology, eyes never leaving her omnitool. "Well...I, umm...I just don't know, sir. I'd need more time."

"We don't have more time. We have to rendezvous with the flotilla—they won't exactly wait for us." Niiras straightened, looking to his comm officer. "Koor, initiate a return transmission along the same frequency." He waited until Koor nodded, then spoke in Basic, his voice ringing with command. "Unknown ship, this is Captain Niiras'Faron vas Rezna nar Tesleya. You have hailed us on this frequency, but we cannot translate or decrypt your message. Please respond in a known language of Citadel space and declare your intentions, or we will move on. End transmission."

The transmission was followed by a long silence. Every member of his crew remained still—even the anxious Lyza remained remarkably quiet.

Waiting.

Finally, Niiras exhaled (he hadn't even realized he was holding his breath). "That's it, then. Get us out of here, Lukai. The nearest mass relay should only be a few—"

Then the first blast hit them.