(A/N): Mass Effect 2, a game which in my personal opinion is two steps forward, two steps back in terms of its progression over its predecessor Mass Effect. As much as I like the superior character development save for several exceptions (*cough* Jacob *cough* Samara *cough cough*), I really wish that ME2 and ME3 still had that same level of bigness that ME1 had, or at least gave the more authentic feeling that the environments are actually lived in. In short, it's an example of quantity over quality, and while Mass Effect is certainly much bigger than Mass Effect 2, some of the environments are just not as diverse. I get the use of prefabricated structures would be very handy for rapid expansion, but try explaining why the hell the Geth in the Armstrong Nebula are using underground bunkers otherwise commonly found in Alliance Space as a forward HQ. But enough of the ranting, now onto more senseless drama.

Chapter 1: One Step Forward, Twenty Back

It was an emotional storm, but I survived. For the briefest moment, I had felt better than I had in decades. But all good things must end, and none of us could've foreseen that the Harvesters' retaliation would be so soon.

July 18, 2183

11 hrs/07 min/08 sec

Citadel Station

Fredrick temporarily stopped his work to turn to an approaching lieutenant. "Sir, Major Sokolov has arrived in the docks to relieve you."

"Good. I'll make my way to the docks to return to Khonsu. As you were trooper." The Citadel was an absolute mess after Nazara's attack. Pieces of his remains everywhere, destroyed Geth and corrupted corpses to deal with, and everyone had barely gotten started. At most, he was furious that the council denied him of permission to pursue Keepers to retrieve chunks of Nazara for study and finding means of countering the Harvesters in combat. "It is against the rules to disturb the Keepers," they'd said as he tried to argue that those remains were their best chance of facing what was ahead. Continuously, they denied any serious actions till Commander Shepard "further evaluated" the threat even after he presented them with all the data he'd collected up until then on the Harvesters.

As he walked by the docks, he saw a long line of Alliance soldiers walking along. A few of them were injured, many of them had long faces, all of them weren't even in combat armor. He raised an eyebrow glancing at the few faces that looked at him, finding them to be familiar. Finally, towards the back, he saw Ashley, Kaidan, Chakwas, Tali, and Joker in a wheel chair. Suddenly taken aback, he strode forward to the four, took off his helmet, and asked, "Williams, Alenko, Zorra, Chakwas, Moreau, what the hell happened?"

"We were attacked by an unknown enemy deep in Terminus Space. Ship was nothing like we've ever encountered, and nothing remotely close to the Geth. They tore through our shields and plating like the Normandy was made of plywood. We lost twenty one crew, Shepard included. She stayed behind to make sure we all made it out," Kaidan answered.

He couldn't believe what he heard. "I wha- what the hell happened?"

Joker had tears streaming from his eyes. "It was my damn fault. I thought I could save the Normandy and Linda came up to shove my ass into an escape pod. She just got me inside when an explosion threw her aside, and she closed the pod doors behind me."

Fredrick shut his threw a palm onto his forehead with exasperation. "Oh for Christ's sake..."

July 23, 2183

14 hrs/25 min/02 sec

Citadel Station, Presidium

Linda deserved better than this. He delayed his departure so he could attended the funeral, but still wore his full suit of armor. There was so much wrong with the scene, he was on the verge of bursting. Aside from her team and Councilor Anderson, the speeches of the other councilors and the few others who spoke felt like spitting on her name than paying respects. To add insult to injury, they made no effort to find her body, the Alliance and council alike classified and locked away all research into the Harvesters, and the one team who could put things together and get back to work was dissolved faster than sugar in a pot of boiling water. Right after Jeff gave his speech at the podium, Fredrick took control of Joker's wheel chair and pushed him off to the side.

Between sniffles and gasps for air, Jeff asked, "Freddy? What's going on?"

"Don't call me that," Fredrick answered. "I just want to have a light talk, then you can rejoin your friends." Fredrick pushed the wheelchair to a small store still undergoing repairs and into a small warehouse in back. The goods were largely untouched, and the crates were all still intact. "Remind me. What happened on the Normandy the day it was attacked?"

Jeff was barely able to speak through his constant sniveling. "I- I already told you-"

Jeff was cut short by Fredrick kicking a crate across the room, shattering it. "What. Happened? Answer the fucking question."

Trying to maintain keep himself calm, Moreau continued, "I thought I could get the Normandy to safety, seeing how most of her systems were still int-"

Beginning to use his biotics, Fredrick threw around shelves, boxes, and more container of product, smashing the respective objects to pieces and spilling their contents on the floor. "Hopefully, you know of the error in your actions?"

Jeff started shaking his head. "I didn't-" Jeff instinctively threw his hands up to protect himself as Fredrick threw another bout of rage. The room after what seemed like an eternity of destruction looked like the rest of the Presidium as panels and wires from the ceiling, walls, and floor were thrown into the mix.

"There in lies the fucking problem, flight lieutenant!" Fredrick yelled as he continued carrying his rage out against the room, leaving Jeff untouched. "The one person, the one fucking person who was actually capable of pulling everyone's heads out of their collective assholes to see the incoming threat has died because you and your eternal wisdom thought it was more important to save a goddamn ship than it was to ensure only twenty died and not twenty one! Do you see the problem here?!"

"I'm sorry! Okay? I'm sorry!" Moreau screamed as tears once again flowed from his face.

Pausing, Fredrick let all objects within his mental grasp fall to the floor and returned to Jeff to wheel him out of the room. Leaving the pilot in the middle of the wrecked shop, Fredrick finally returned, "Saying sorry doesn't fix your mistakes, Jeff. I'll see you around." Fredrick continued to walk away as he left the cripple to wallow in his sorrows for a bit longer.

Destroying more property did help to put off his seething anger for a brief moment, but the facts still hurt. He hadn't exactly worked on maintaining his PR over the course of combating Nazara. Linda was the one fresh face, the galactic icon who could've helped lead the galaxy in the fight against them. Ironically, he thought the same thing of Saren until he received news of the Turian specter's infection. Now, it was back to square one, and six precious months of potential research and further discover was wasted. Ignoring the brief flashbacks of seeing a younger Linda, he still wanted to have one last drink before he left the station, so he decided to make his way to Flux and get something at the bar. As he entered, the first unfortunate soul his eyes landed on was Garrus Vakarian. The Turian had barely taken off his formal wear after leaving the funeral ceremony before drowning his sorrows away. He remembered when he was in the same position over a century ago, and he remembered when the two of them one last goodbye kiss at the Citadel docks before the council sent her to her death one month later.

Fredrick simply walked up to the mourning Turian and put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry this happened."

"I should've been there instead of training for the Specters," Garrus answered simply, barely looking back at him. "None of this would've happened."

Fredrick took his hand off, saying, "I should've as well," before turning to return to the Persistence.

15 hrs/00 min/54 sec

TMSD Persistence, Argos Rho, en route to the Nile Nebula

Fredrick walked onto the bridge without having taken his armor off at the locker room first. Walking up behind Commander Burke, the commander greeted him with, "At least we got that bastard Nazara. Shame it's a short-lived victory."

"What's the death-count?" Fredrick asked. They were still counting their loses after the battle on the Citadel with the Geth forces.

"Ours are almost a flat four thousand total along with five cruisers and two dreadnoughts. We've gotten the data back to Khonsu and are starting to upgrade our hardware to better cope with Harvester combat. Additionally, a new series of dreadnoughts are being manufactured at many locations throughout the Republic, ships that are capable of self-sustaining its crew for several years with the use of advanced air filters, aquaponics, and the best eezo cores we have to date," Burke answered.

Fredrick stared out of the bridge and into the abyss, watching as the Persistence lie in wait at the Mass Relay instead of entering. "So, what are we waiting for? Why are we still here and not on our way through?" Fredrick asked impatiently.

"Traffic control flagged us, and had informed me fifteen minutes ago that a trade ship was coming through and that we were to stand aside till we were clear," Burke answered again.

"Fifteen minutes? What's taking them so long? Ships don't take that long to get from one end of a Relay to an-" Fredrick started before an enormous, rocky object sharply came out of FTL, and turned to make evasive maneuvers. "What the hell?"

"Everyone! Brace for maneuvers!" Burke barked. Mere seconds after he gave the order, a yellow, ominous core within the rocky pillar released a burst of energy, striking the side of the destroyer.

As the ship shook violently, one of the bridge officers reported, "Sir! Our shields and armor are holding for now, but our coms have been jammed and one of the engines are damaged!"

"Commander! Hostiles are making maneuvers to board!" Fredrick said, pointing out the ominous ship eclipsing their as it hovered overhead. The ship felt another violent shake as the enemy vessel docked with their own.

"The Persistence is lost! Everyone, get to an escape craft! Müller, come with me and help defend till as many are off the ship as we can!" Burke said, pulling a rifle from an emergency locker and shoving in a bioelectric cell.

"Sir, these are the same hostiles that took down the Normandy! We just have to make a break for it!" Fredrick barked as he ran towards the exit, drawing his own rifle.

"Are you sure?" the commander asked.

"I got my hands on the reports, the data points are all the same," Fredrick answered simply as he pulled up a chart on his omnitool.

Burke's jaw hung with disbelief. "Well I'll be... Well, that doesn't change things. We're still getting off this ship. Stick close to me, major. If it's the last thing I do, you're getting off this ship." As the two and fifteen others entered a supply locker located right outside of the hanger, a group of the hostile invaders came into view. It was no other than the notorious Collectors, a bipedal insectoid race who have been regarded as little more than myth. A few more marines were caught in the line of fire as the men dashed for cover. "Dammit, these filthy cockroaches!" Burke cursed as he popped from cover and gunned down a few of the monstrosities. "Turn on that nanite shield of yours, Müller! Get to whatever ship you can find and get the hell out of here! Never mind the rest of us!"

"With all due respect, sir! I'm not leaving this crew for dead!" Fredrick retorted as he shoved another battery into his rifle.

"They're after you! Now get going!" Burke yelled before a flanking Collector put a beam through the unfortunate commander's head, dropping him instantly. Swiftly gunning down the Collector, Fredrick proceeded to activate the nanite shield and biotically charge through a squad of Collectors and ran into the hanger. The hanger was even more chaotic than the room before as engineers and other marines were dashing around with biotics to get an angle on the boarding Collectors. Swiftly jumping into a dropship, he ran to the cockpit, jumped into the pilot seat, hit the autopilot, and watched as the ship exited the hanger and flew into the vacuum. Doing a full 180, he directed the dropship towards the Relay, watching as the Collector ship detached from what remained of the Persistence to follow him. The ship VI shook the ship back and forth, narrowly dodging the heavy particle beam of the Collector ship as he advanced closer towards the Mass Relay. As he rapidly approached, the Sokol along with two other dreadnoughts came out of FTL and began to open fire on the Collector ship. Incurring heavy damage, the majority of the Collector forces simply made for the Relay and retreated.

"Fredrick, is that you in there?" Max asked over the intercom.

"Hong, you're a godsend! How did you know about the attack?" Fredrick asked.

"We headed out as soon as we lost contact with the Persistence?" Hong continued.

"I don't know, but we lost Commander Burke," Fredrick answered quietly.

"Damn it. Meet me in the Sokol's hanger. Along with debriefing, we've got a few hardware upgrades for you."

TMD Sokol, en route back to Khonsu

"This is not good. It's also a shame to hear of the commander and the Persistence's demise. Are you sure it was the Collectors?" Admiral Hashimoto asked.

"The writing is on the wall, Admiral. I'm not exactly sure how else to put it." Fredrick sat on a medical bed as his implants were evaluated.

"You know your word alone is not going to convince anyone." The admiral wasn't as old as Fredrick, but the two men had been around for long enough to recognize the council's arrogance.

"No need to remind me. Anything from high command?" Fredrick asked.

"I've already brought this attack up, and the decision was rather swift. You are being promoted to colonel and will be stationed at a factory on Taitus in the Caleston Rift. The station doubles as an R&D lab and is beginning operations to upgrade our navy to required specifications if we'll be in all-out conflict with the Harvesters," Hashimoto informed.

"That's awfully close to the Terminus Systems. Are you sure that is a wise logistical decision?" Fredrick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't like it either, but the courts want to know what makes the Collectors tick. If they are another asset of the Harvesters, they'll no doubt constantly throwing themselves at us just to get at you. We might even be able to take them out, and get samples to present before we slip back to convincing the public," Hashimoto answered, with a solemn nod. "I know you'd rather be in the fray of action, but we all agree, Müller. You've wasted enough time trying to convince a blind and deaf public. It's now down to us to save them, regardless of how many go extinct by the end of this massacre."

"Understood, sir." As the projection of the Admiral went dark, Nolan walked around the table with his omnitool out.

"Well, all your systems seem to be in order. In a few moments, you may be feeling some aching and tingling on the senses, but we're giving you a system update," Nolan explained.

"An update? What for?" Fredrick asked, glancing at his former teammate.

"Some additional parts now on the market. Along with more accurate and efficient power use, tissue regeneration, improved biotics, and making sure all the systems and drivers are still functional, you also been given a few new toys to boot," Nolan said, handing Fredrick a datapad.

Feeling the light spikes of pain, Fredrick asked, "Alright, what sort of new hardware am I looking at?"

"While it is still mostly used for espionage, you've been given a vocal cord modulator, used for direct translations into other languages, and will likewise what language you are speaking in your HUD. Additionally, we've had a few new additions to the neural director, allowing you to more efficiently control nanites that you've split from your own body, allowing for faster work. Nanites themselves have more touch to them this time, and are not only capable of rendering a target unconscious for once again espionage or medical procedures, but also easily opening and closing tissue, dissolving and reconstructing certain objects, though efficiency is still gradually improving. Finally, we've boosted the range at which you are capable of accessing the neural cloud. We do have satellites strewn throughout the Galaxy, but command wants to move away from the need of using those satellites so we aren't completely in the dark when the Harvesters invariably blow those satellites to hell," Nolan answered.

Getting off the bed, Fredrick nodded with approval before asking, "Sounds good. Anything else I should know?"

"In the long run, you should be able to go through missions for longer without having to use an overclock stim. Like I said, efficiency is still gradually improving for some of the more experimental parts. If anything goes wrong or something seems to be out of place, please please please let us know ASAP so we can check if this is a common problem and fix it."

"Perhaps they weren't such a worthy investment," Harbinger thought, glancing over the memories of the Collector warriors after attacking the hybrid's ship.

Before Nazara died, he'd put plenty of emphasis on how much this "Fredrick" could be a threat to the cycle. While they largely ignored the pleas for permission to more actively seek and destroy the lone organic, Nazara's sudden demise had finally caught his attention concerning now an organic and a the hybrid. While the organic had been dealt with, though her remains still hadn't been found to be made an example of, "Fredrick" had slipped through their grasp once more. He was now in a more stationary location, but he wasn't entirely sure of whether he'd would actually be a threat. Furthermore, something seemed inconsistent with the figure.

He turned his attention towards the memories of Nazara and began to shift through the endless files. Most recently, Nazara had been obsessed with the hybrid before his death at Relay Alpha at the hands of overwhelming organic forces. "Fredrick" had been showing up much more frequently within the last few cycles, and was now causing some concern for himself. He stopped at an image of Nazara looking down upon a platform in some organic structure.

From the metadata, it was a lab that was "owned" by one of Nazara's puppets, and on the platform was the white and crimson annoyance himself. Playing the memory, Harbinger was initially surprised that the Hybrid was capable of communication beyond what his physical form would normally allow. He knew Nazara had made some indirect contact with this organic as early as little over a century ago, and started to sift through many of Nazara's earlier memories. "Just who are you?" Harbinger wondered. "Where do you come from?"