Author's note: This fiction is written with three key elements in mind. The story must no betray any lore of both universe, Readers who are unfamiliar with either universe of the crossover must not be lost or confused and Readers must be entertained. Should any of these elements be lacking, please inform me. I'll give you the story you deserve.


It was the calm humming that disturbed her sleep. Her dreams faded away, replaced by a deep artificial rhythm, invading her mind as she came closer and closer to consciousness.

Before all thoughts began to emerge, she fell the warm metallic floor underneath her. The familiar heat of a cockpit. A space vessel.

Prometheus.

She woke up violently, her head spinning in pain after the shock. The shock? Around her, the small cockpit dimly lit by the emergency light was showing signs of serious external damage. But there was no indication of any breach, otherwise she would be dead and frozen.

Crawling in the tight space, she lifted herself near the console, her legs seemingly paralysed, but she didn't cared why. She had one single focus. Activate the distress signal.

Her hand brushed the orange holo console that lit as clearly as if nothing had happened. The civilised voice of a VI resonated.

-Emergency lock-down. Please log in supreme authorisation to access.

-XCV N7 2-32, she said as loud as she could. Commander Shepard, Alliance military.


It took several minutes for Sarah Shepard to extract all the data out of the VI, but even then, she wasn't sure what happened.

She was on board a Prometheus, a nigh indestructible escape pod in the form of an egg. Developed by the Alliance military in cooperation with SED (Salarian Exploration Division), those had only been installed in Salarian cruisers as far as she could tell.

Her head spin. It was hard to think, hard to remember.

She had to move.

Her muscle control had progressively came back and she could use her legs without any difficulty, but her right arm was still unsure and shaking. Her left however was perfectly fine, probably due to the fact that it was entirely artificial. Slender design, Quarian technology. The scars of the hardest battle of her life.

With it, she tied her dark red hair back in a ponytail and launched a complete diagnostic of the surroundings. The Egg was sealed and opaque, but there was enough sensors to scan for anything dangerous around it.

While the VI was processing the info, she checked the inside. While badly damaged, everything was still functional. Her own armour was intact, and so were her weapons and omnitool, to her relief. But she was unable to make contact with anyone outside. Instead, she only received static.

-Analysis complete, said the VI in his calm demeanour. Position: unknown. The atmosphere is breathable, gravity to 1g, scans indicates a fully functional space station suitable for human life. Origin unknown

-We crashed into a space station?

-The scans indicate you are currently inside the space station. There are no breach detected nor any visible point of entry. The immediate surrounding is an empty room.

The commander was perplexed. She was in an escape pod inside a space station, with no one answering the comms. There was nothing more she could do while prisoner of the Prometheus, it was time to explore.

-VI, she said while putting her helmet and arming her N7 Valiant rifle, continue scanning and synch with my omnitool. Update status every 5 minutes, I want comprehensive reports and remote access to the distress call.

-Very well, logging you out Commander.

Her hand grabbed her battle worn pistol, a dark and red HMWP X, first and last gift of the Spectre bureau. Space station meant close combat. Assume hostile. Survive first, ask later.

She took a deep breath and opened the hatch.


Head spinning, legs not working, pain all over.

Focus.

Lauren Shepard, already in her complete armour, was trying to make sense of the data that was hurling at her through the VI. She had crashed somewhere... but where was she? She tried to remember, but couldn't. She only felt confusion, and tried to shake herself back to full speed.

She was in a space pod, that was for sure, and a ruined one at that. The VI was beginning to diagnose the state of the vehicle.

-Belay that, she muttered while forcing her legs to move despite the pain. What's outside?

-Preliminary scans indicate an artificial construct. There are no vacuum or toxic component detectable at this time.

-Anyone outside? Hostile or otherwise?

-Insufficient Data Commander.

Lauren swore under her breath. It reminded her of the N5 selection tests, she had been drugged and sent into an out of control ship with potential hostiles all over. She had to crash it on a planet and survive, not sure on how she got here in the first place or where she was. She had survived that, she would go through this too.

Her body slowly returned under her command again, she checked her equipment. Weapons, thermoclips, rations, everything was there. She checked her sealed helmet, a shiver running down her spine as she recalled the time when she... died. You wasn't going to die twice because of equipment failure.

The familiar sensation of the N7 Valkyrie in her arms reassured her. It was stocked, ready to fire, and had saved her life throughout her most trying experiences. She even had a hand in it final design, and modded it to fit her style perfectly.

And her style was shoot to kill.

With one hand, she opened the hatch, and a small hole on the floor was blasted away.

The metallic door buried itself in what seemed like a soil, crushing some dried up plants beneath it. Shepard tried to slip through, but her legs failed her and she stumbled out, gun in hand. There was, however, no one outside, only an immense low-ceiling artificial garden. And abandoned by the looks what tried to grow there.

Lauren took a deep breath and got up. There was no sign of sentry, of camera or even activity. Only the artificial lights were on. She took a few step forward and looked back on her vessel. Her Prometheus was in bad shape indeed, it was like it had been send into an asteroid field. There were marks of impact everywhere, but no sign from weapon origin.

And most of all, no sign of any breach in the room. It was as if it had been just left there, or that they build the station around it. It made no sense, and she didn't liked it one bit. She rigged the pod with explosives, just in case, and went out to explore the station.


Camouflaged under her cloak, Sarah had swiftly asserted her surroundings, and her findings were few and puzzling.

Through exploration and the scans of the Prometheus, she had determined that the Space Station was as big as a little city in the form of a spinning top. And it seemed like a giant coffin.

The walls, the floors, everything was bright white and bare. Absolutely pure and clean. It was sickening.

As far as she could tell, she was in a level dedicated to farming. Most of the rooms were similar to the one she arrived in, and there seemed to be hundreds of them. The other rooms may have had equipment or even furniture but everything that wasn't fixed to the ground had been taken away. Even the computers in the wall had been stripped of every components.

But the strangest thing was that she wasn't recognizing anything. It had obviously been made by a human-size species, but there was no insignia she could recognize, nor the Alliance nor any organisations, alien or otherwise. And the tech was also intriguing. The computers may have had been stripped, but when she tried to rig herself to the central web, she couldn't find any viable port for VI.

She had no idea who built the station, where those people were or even how she got there in the first place. Her pod seemed to have simply been put there, in the middle of what seemed to be an artificial garden, and there was nothing else.

But there was one thing for certain. She was not alone.

The life support was functional, even if it was on a strange setting, every room were still supplied with a steady amount of power and even the elevators were still working. But most of all she noticed traces of very recent passage. Doors left open, distant sound reverberating, disturbed debris on the ground, there was at least one person, probably a scavenger, in those corridors. And he may had answers.

The trail seemed easy to follow, at first, but her as she walked along the white walls, silently approaching the source of the disturbance, she felt uneasy. It was a smell of familiarity, the way the doors were left just not close enough to be seen, how the clues were just at the right place to choose the right turn.

She knew this feeling, she had felt it many times. It was the feeling of being the prey.

Shepard crouched and thought for a moment. How could she outmanoeuvre her unseen adversary?

Typing on her omnitool, she gathered the info of the scans and projected a 3d map of her surroundings. From this new perspective, she realised that she was progressively being led to the centre of that level, some kind of large circular room, heavily supplied in computer nods, although those were probably absent like the rest.

She couldn't tell if her adversary was conscious of her, or was simply making sure that any potential threat would be led to a kill zone. In both cases, there was something in that central room, and even a trap would be enough for Shepard to break the stalemate.

For some reasons, the station was using bulky cables to supply power, and most of those had been taken away. That made the conduits were they were supposed to be empty, and a passage toward the central hub. An unexpected one, she was hoping. She easily removed he trap doors to the cable conduits and sneaked in with agility. Crawling through it as carefully as she could, she manoeuvre herself around the tight dark space with absolutely no visibility, trusting her maps to guide her to her destination.

The maze seemed endless, but finally she had arrived. The tight tunnel became a large octagonal sub level, just beneath the ground of the main room. It must had been filled with cables at one point, but now it was just a simple empty crawling space.

Progressing as silently as a predator stalking her prey, she moved in the dark sub-level, distinguishing the access port to the room above by the light filtering through the grids. She activated her omnitool, warping her right arm in the soft orange glow of an holoconsole. Using the micro construction tools inside her armour, she produced a recording camera drone. Nothing flashy, or even visible to the human eye, just a camera the size of a fly, standing on the top of her finger. Slowly, she slid it through a grid and activated it.

In her helmet, she saw the room. It was a large empty octagon, with visible traces of tearing. There must had been a lot of stuff there, and but even those who were build within the walls had been tore and stripped. There was seemingly nothing.

Except one person, at least three mines.

She couldn't get a good look at her adversary, but he had barricaded all but two doors within the hub and had placed mines within close range of the possible entry. Sarah silently noted that everything had been done perfectly, from the false trail, to the traps and even the escape routes. Should had Shepard followed the trail, thinking her prey at her mercy, she would have been overwhelmed by the mines alone, and let's not speak of the weapons the "prey" was possibly carrying.

However, he wasn't aware of the critical flaw of his fortress.

And that was Sarah's way to victory.


The trap was set.

Lauren was crouched in the big empty room, ready to aim at whatever the hell was going to get through those doors. She had been scouting the level for 30 minutes when she finally found what seemed to be the central control room for the plants. Like in all other rooms, it was empty, and laid bare of any indication of what was going on. However, she knew she wasn't alone.

She may had been a bit reckless in her search, she was far from being an idiot, and had left little presents behind her. Omnitool mines modified as motion detectors, gifts of Garrus. Everywhere she went, she had left those little spy behind, carefully camouflaged, and 30 minutes after she had left her pod they emitted their warnings.

It was probably only one person, and he was searching considering his movements, but searching for what? Lauren decided that interrogation was the only way to go, and put a little trail towards her, and her trap.

And then, nothing. No motion, no sound, no trace of anything anywhere. The other guy had just vanished.

The whole thing began dangerously to feel like Omega during the Adjudant crisis. Tight corridors, no visual, unknown enemy you know is stalking you... Lauren knew that the worst thing to do was to move and blow every chance she had of getting a reading again. So she waited, still, patiently.

Until all hell broke loose.

Her mines suddenly exploded all at once, releasing their concussive blast in a terrible shock wave and filling the room with smoke. The unexpected attack triggered Lauren's most basic survival instincts and she rolled on the side, her body brutally shaken by a surge of fear and adrenaline.

It was here! But where!?

Two shot, from inside the room. The first one exploded in her face, stopped merely millimetres in front of her head by her kinetic shield. Destroying in it one go. The second one missed her legs by an hair, as Lauren charged head first toward the hidden enemy, her vision blurred, her blood on fire. It wasn't Omega. It was Torfan, all over again.

The bold move would prove successful as the commander clashed with a form in the smoke, sending them both rolling on the ground, tangled in a violent struggle to get the upper hand. Her mind went blank as she tried to keep her enemy in lock while regaining her own balance, but he was a slippery one.

Rotating himself inside the lock with an uncanny agility, he broke from Lauren's grasp and tried to place himself above her, his rifle dangerously approaching her head. With the strength of a bull, Shepard placed her feet on his stomach and send him flying back. Somewhere beyond the thick curtain of smoke, he crashed violently on the wall, losing his rifle in the process. Lauren still had hers.

-Move and you're dead! She screamed, aiming at the indistinct form.

Only to have her Valkyrie overheat system flared up and automatically locked itself, transforming the machine of death into a glorified crowbar.

The riposte came like lightening. An impact of tremendous strength smashed on her helmet, sending her back temporary blind for the sheer shock, despite the armour. Her weapons was then tore from her hands and thrown aside. A brief vision of death came clear to her, fear took hold of all her senses. And she refuses it. With all the fury she could muster, Lauren activated her omniblade. A red omnitool appeared on her right arm, creating instantly a white hot blade out of thin air with which she slashed furiously in front of her. She nearly decapitated her opponent had he not acrobatically rolled back, but while her blade broke down as quickly as it had been created, Lauren wasn't finished.

She charged head first to prevent the slippery one from gaining a better position, ready to pierce his heart. He was too dangerous to be kept alive.

And suddenly, Shepard froze still. The smoke was slowly dissipating, revealing the shadow that attacker, back to the wall, an outdated pistol in her hands aiming for her, yet not shooting. It was a woman, in full armour, including the helmet. She was wearing an Armax Arsenal set, made specially for snipers and scouts and a very expensive one. And her arm could have been even more expensive. An entirely artificial member, not unlike Saren's, but with five fingers and a slender look. But Lauren didn't stopped her assault because of this.

On her white with blue strips armour, her attacker was showing the Council Spectre's insignia. And her pistol was an HMWP X, Spectre pistol from before the thermoclips.

-I'm warning you Asari, she grunted, I have the bad habit of killing Spectres who get in my way... So you better answer my question before it gets ugly, fast.

The Asari in white armour simply got up, her weapon still focused on the human. If she had any fear, she didn't show it. But they both knew that the weapon only offered her a small upper hand, and the situation could rapidly turns upside down.

-You N7? Asked the Spectre with a steady voice.

-I ask the questions here, boldly replied the woman with a gun pointed at her head. What's a council Spectre doing here? And where the hell is here?

Without a word, the Spectre taped on the side of her helmet with her Geth-like arm, and unsealed her armour. The frontal plate retreated back inside the sides, revealing the Spectre's face. And to Shepard's increasing surprise, it wasn't an Asari. It was a human. Another human Spectre?

The human looked like a ghost, her skin was as pale as her armour, and the form of her bones were clearly visible on her face, as if she had been malnourished. However her eyes were of a bright green, staring at her without any sign of weakness.

-I'm Commander Shepard, Council Spectre and Alliance military. Who are you?