The Lady Commander paused at the revelation, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Lord Pollux, I saw the system map in the command room with you. This system has four planets, and while I was far from the greatest student in the Schola, I do know my home system has ten planets. What is the meaning of this?"
"Lady Miriel, are you familiar with the past of your planet? I assume not, as that information is, to say the least, hard to come across. While we are above Armageddon, at least, according to the planetary scans, we are not in the Armageddon System. We appear to be an unnamed system. This is what worries me. For during the War of the Beast - You were taught of it, yes? - a certain world named Ullanor was held as the capital of the beastly Orks."
"Ullanor was destroyed after the Imperial victory, the Mechanicus enacted Exterminatus on that foul world. What are you getting at, Pollux?"
"Ullanor was bombarded, yes. This is a secure channel, correct? Very well. What I tell you must not be overheard."
Lord Trader Pollux took a deep breath, his eyes roaming the empty room, searching for anyone or anything that might overhear.
"Ullanor was deemed to be of too great importance to the Mechanicus to be completely destroyed. While the planet was desolated by orbital bombardment, the Mechanicus could not let so many valuable archaeo-tech ruins be destroyed by Exterminatus. The planet was moved, using ancient techno-sorcery, into what we now call the Armageddon System. Many who knew of this act were purged during the Beheading, though a few valued members of the Mechanicus survived. Some of these Magos and Tech-Priests were sheltered by a planetary noble. A noble named Basilious Pollux. That is why I now know this. As for why I share this knowledge with you, a well kept secret of my family for generations upon generations, I… Lady Commander, the world you now stand on is Ullanor. By the lack of Imperial presence, and the lack of the brutish Orks, there are few conclusions to draw. We must, at the very least, be in the 31M, perhaps even earlier. We must remain vigilant, and find the nearest Imperials, warning them of the destruction to come.
"I see."
Miriel's face was pale, her knuckles white from gripping the table before her. The command Chimera was empty, the Guardswoman the only one to hear of this momentous news. Her home was no more. Her planet, everything she had known, was no more. Closing her eyes, the Lady Commander steadied herself. She would have to tell the troops something, anything. A quick thought flitted across her mind: could the Rogue Trader be lying? There was no conceivable reason for him too. His explanation simply made too much sense, why the rescued colonists did not know of the Imperium, the position on the star maps, the relatively simplistic weaponry the locals wielded, and so on.
They were in the past.
"Thank you, Lord Pollux, for your trust. The Emperor Protects."
His face grave, miniaturized on the screen before her, nodded. The Rogue Trader echoed her words, leaning forward to terminate the link.
"The Emperor Protects."
Husks and Collectors seemed to melt away, retreating to their battered ship with alarming speed, the courtyard emptying rapidly. The trench-coated men and their red-cloaked companions continued firing until the enemies had disappeared, the bodies of the slain Collectors fading into nonexistence. Jane Shepard was pleasantly surprised. The Collector threat had been neutralized, a mission brought back from the brink of failure. While their new allies were strange, they certainly were helpful.
It was also nice to have allies, for a change.
She turned to the apparent leader of the trench-coats, the one who had called in some form of intense artillery support. He had negated the need for the Guardian Defense System, and the need to fight through hordes and hordes of Collectors. Though odd, though strange, though Jane had no clue who these people were, he at least deserved recognition. Jane's eyebrow raised for a moment when she saw him. She almost ran forward, trying to find some medi-gel in her pack. The man had been much more severely wounded then he had let on, almost collapsed against his comrade, a few pained breaths echoing from his gasmask.
"Miranda, get over here! Zaeed, you too! We need medi-gel. Miranda, tell these people that I'm trying to help their leader, not hurt him!"
The other trenchcoats were trying to pull Shepard back from their commander, who was slowly staggering to his feet, holding up a hand. Miranda's Latin commands appeared to be understood, and waved off by the trench-coat leader. Supported by one of his soldiers, he gestured, leading the party onward, trying to hold Shepard's attention. Jane followed reluctantly. The man was alive, and evidently able to continue onwards, but she kept her eye on him. She was not letting another die on her watch. Not after Virmire.
The group struggled forward, led by the wounded soldier. As they walked, Shepard's com suddenly burst into sound, Joker's frantic voice echoing in her ear.
"Commander? Commander! Commander Shepard, can you hear me? Commander!"
"Joker, calm down, I'm alright. The new arrivals seem to be friendlies, what's the situation up there?"
"Goddamnit Shepard. You scared me there, thank God you're alright. As for up here, well, we have three Gothic Cathedrals masquerading as space-ships, bigger than any known designs, besides space stations. The largest is absolutely gigantic, and I could fly the Normandy up some of the guns. I don't know what the new guys look like down there, but uh, be nice to them? Please? I'd rather not be space dust."
"Hold up a moment, slow down Joker. Just… hold position. No reason to antagonize them, stay where you are. I'll be up in a moment. Oh, and Joker? The new arrivals down here don't have translators. One of them speaks in Latin, but that's the closest we've gotten to communicating. Can you get Edi to work on that sort of thing?"
The A.I's voice chimed in on the com channel, sounding vaguely amused.
"As you wish, Commander. I'll create a brand new lexicon for a language I've never heard before. If you need this done, I need a live subject up here. Can you get that for me?"
"I'll see what I can do."
As Shepard walked alongside the trench-coats, coming up a rise, she began to see signs of battle damage. A collapsed wall here, a roofless building there. In the destruction, hulking metal shapes were seen. Scarred tanks, cannons pointing to the sky. Shepard and Miranda's eyes were wide. Zaeed was less surprised, having fought in more conventional ground wars than his two companions, but he was impressed, nonetheless. The vehicles each looked like they belonged in a museum, but none of the Collector's weaponry had done more than scratch the paint. On each vehicle, more trench-coats sat, masks and helmets off, wide smiles all around, joking and laughing. It became rapidly apparent that the it was not a strike force that had attacked the Collectors. It was an army.
But, despite the tan trenchcoat army covering the colony with tanks and what appeared to be APCS, the scene was not one of occupation. It was one of relief. The soldiers were happy. The colonists were happy, if in a bit of shock. Kids played, some hanging from tank barrels, the trench-coats reassuring nervous parents. Though the colonists and the soldiers could not understand each other, gestures and charade proved to be more than effective. A few of the more hospitable locals had brought out freshly made food. Each offering was greedily and gratefully devoured by the soldiers, cries of what she assumed to be thanks and praise echoing from stuffed mouths. They even sighted the nervous mechanic from earlier, rushing over to two children and a woman, tears in his eyes. Glancing up, he met Shepard's gaze, nodding in her direction, mouthing "Thank you". It was an uncertain feeling for Shepard. She had succeeded with minor problems, for once. The colony was saved, with only a few taken.
Though the overall scene was one of relief, as Shepard continued, she saw a few small, somber groups, both of soldiers and of colonists. The trench-coats were standing around freshly upturned earth in a field, with a man in red reading from a book. A priest, or chaplain? Though religion was not unheard of in the modern world, it was certainly rare, and Jane did not recognize any familiar symbols. She filed the sight away for later, returning her gaze to the groups of colonists, grieving for those taken in the attack. To her surprise, there were much less than she expected. The soldiers, no matter what their affiliation, certainly cared for protecting the human element.
Her musings were interrupted by someone calling her name. A voice she had not heard in a long time, a voice that Jane Shepard had remembered.
"SHEPARD? Jane Shepard, is that you?"
The Commander paused, the more heavily armored trench-coats she had been following pausing. Their leader looked back at the yelling woman, an expression of confusion on his unmasked, heavily scarred face.
"Ashley?"
"I thought you were dead, Commander. We all did."
The Alliance officer stepped up to the SPECTRE, her brows furrowed with anger and confusion. The squadron they had been following merely looked on in interest.
"It's been too long, Ashley. How have you been?"
"That's all you have to say? You show up after two years, an entire goddamn army in tow, and that is all you have to say? You just act like nothing's happened? I would have followed you anywhere, Commander! Thinking you were gone… it was like losing a limb. Why didn't you try to contact me? Why didn't you let me know you were alive, or to, at the very least, tell me the colony would be under military occupation when you arrived?
"You're still with the Alliance. You've turned a blind eye to the problem. But human colonies are disappearing, and I'm trying to save them. I don't know who these soldiers are, or where they come from. But they are doing a damn sight more than the Alliance, whoever they are."
"Really? Is that what you're doing? Because I saw reports that you were working for Cerberus. How do I know this isn't some kind of mercenary force they've put together?"
Miranda, helpful and lacking in social graces as always, chimed in.
"Reports? So much for security. And if Cerberus had an army this size, don't you think they'd put it to more use?
Ashley ignored her, plowing ahead with her anger and shock.
"Alliance intel thought Cerberus might be behind the missing human colonies. They got a tip that this colony might be the next one to get hit. Anderson stonewalled me, but there were rumours you weren't dead. That you were working for the enemy."
"Our colonies are disappearing. The Alliance turned its back on them. Cerberus was the only group willing to do anything about it, until this group showed up."
"You can't really believe that! We both know what Cerberus is like. What they're capable of. And who knows with this group. They could be even worse, for all we know. I wanted to believe the rumours that you were alive, but I never expected anything like this. You've turned your back on everything we stood for!"
"Ash, you know me. You know I'd only do this for the right reason. You saw it yourself. The Collectors are targeting human colonies. And they're working for the Reapers!"
"I wanna believe you, Shepard. But I don't trust Cerberus. I don't trust these soldiers and their weapons of war. Cerberus could be using threat of a Reaper to manipulate you. What if they're behind it? What if they're working with the Collectors? And if you don't know where this army came from, what's to say they aren't working with them as well?"
Leaning back, Miranda conferred with Zaeed.
"Typical Alliance attitude. So focused on Cerberus, and so blind to the real threat."
Zaeed grunted and shrugged, still favoring one leg, still using the crutch, but well on his way to healing his damaged leg. Jane took a step forward, using her height to look down on the other woman.
"You're letting what you feel about their history get in the way of the facts. Why would this army defending this colony, killing hundreds of Collectors, if they are working with them?"
"Maybe you're right. Or maybe you feel like you owe Cerberus because they saved you. Maybe you're not the one who's thinking straight. You've changed. But I still know where my loyalties lie. I'm an Alliance soldier. Always have been, always will be. I gotta report back to the Citadel. They can decide if they believe your story or not. Besides, I have to tell them about a new army that appeared. These soldiers don't speak English, and none have any translator nodes. The Citadel has to know."
"We both know how that's going to turn out. The Alliance is going to blame Cerberus and these newcomers, just like you did."
"Cerberus cannot be trusted, and neither can this army. Goodbye Shepard. And be careful."
There was a polite knocking on the door to the command Chimera, a gloved hand rapping on the closed door. Climbing out to the entrance, gas mask unbuckled and hanging from her neck, Colonel-Commander Miriel exited her makeshift office. Outside, a nervous looking sergeant was waiting, an apologetic look on his face.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Colonel, but Sergeant Sigismund, the regiment's champion, is here. He has the local defenders of the colony with him."
"It's alright soldier. At ease. Send him over, I'll meet with him, and these locals. Oh, and get my aide, will you? I could use a pot of recaf."
Miriel sat at a makeshift table, chairs 'donated' by the locals, table made from an emptied ammo crate. Within moments, her aide appeared, pouring a steaming cup of recaf for her, as the wearied sergeant trudged up to meet her, three locals in his wake.
"Sergeant."
"Lady-Colonel. These are the defenders of the colony, the ones who helped with the intel needed to purge the foul xenos. However, Colonel, they… they do not speak Low Gothic. The one in white speaks a highly corrupted form of High Gothic, but I can at least understand most of what she's saying."
"Understood. Sergeant, are - is that blood? Sergeant, go see my personal medicae. You've brought these citizens here, take some rest. That's an order from your Colonel."
Reluctantly saluting, Sigismund grimaced at his injuries, before stiffly striding off to a worried looking medicae. As he strode away, the locals glancing after him with mild concern Miriel waved over one of her enginseers.
"I need a three way holo-graph and vox link with Pollux and the Arch Magos. Can you do that for me? Now?"
The enginseer nodded, stomping off to return quickly the clunky equipment, his mechandite tendrils and augmented limbs making short work of the set up. As Pollux and the Arch Magos appeared on the viewer, the locals looked on with interest at the new technology, murmuring amongst themselves. Though she would never show it, Miriel was somewhat pleased. Though they may not know about the Imperium, it was always good to show the might of Mars. Pollux and the Arch Magos nodded, waiting for Miriel to begin.
"I am Colonel Miriel of the Armageddon 547 Steel Legion. I understand you have aided in the defence of this colony. For this, I thank you. The Imperium needs more like you."
Stumbling, the woman in white began to speak, speaking with a strange accent, with strange words
"It is an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Miranda, this is Shepard, and this, is Zaeed. Apologies for the question, but where or what is the Imperium?"
A cold line of shock ran down Miriel's spine. The Imperium was known throughout the Galaxy. Every xenos knew of it, every heretic feared it, every loyal citizen tithed to it. To not know of the Imperium was inconceivable. There was only one explanation, though Miriel was having a hard time accepting the reality. Pollux must have been right. From the expression on Pollux's face, it was clear her shock was shared. There was always the chance of finding new human settlements, but this simply confirmed Pollux's theory. If this planet was Armageddon, then they were truly in the past. The metal tendrils of the Arch-Mago's 'face' twitched slightly. Though he, or more accurately it, was hard to read, it wasn't a stretch to know the Martian was worried as well.
"I'm afraid I must ask a question of my own before I answer that. What is the date? What is the year?"
"It's 2185. What's going on? Is there something wrong?"
The translator shared a confused look with her superior at the question, the redheaded woman's eyebrow raised. No doubt wondering why this question was being asked. Did they not understand the perils of warp travel? The chances of being thrown about in the currents of time?
"What millenia?"
"It is the third millennium. What's the meaning of this? I can provide you with the standard first contact package, if it's needed?"
Her face began to drain of color. The third millennium. That explained the relative weakness of their technology, why they did not know of the Imperium. It was before the Emperor had revealed himself to the human race. It was before the Eye of Terror, before the Great Crusade. Before the Heresy.
Before a Galaxy-spanning war that would last for more than 10,000 years.
There were no records that remained of this time. Miriel did not know what the current political situation was, whether or not these humans had found out ways to deal with Xenos or not. Perhaps these naive peoples did not even know the horrific heresy of Chaos.
Pollux quickly began conferring with a woman next to him, his pet psyker, if Miriel could recall. The Arch Mago's eyes glowed, blue power coursing behind them. If the red-robed individual still had a mouth, he would have smiled, Miriel was sure of it. She knew he was the only one who relished the opportunity the date provided. Miriel was more worried about the various xenos races that would be around. Orks, Eldar, and Hrud would still be problems in this time, as they had no known origin date. There were no Astartes around to help protect humanity at this time. No legions of guardsmen. Though humanity had made it through this era, Miriel was worried. Pollux's ships would attract too much attention from things that could wipe humanity out.
With a polite smile, hoping to mask her shock, Colonel Miriel folded her hands, knuckles white.
"I see. That… would be helpful. One more question, if you will. What were those xenos attacking this colony? Where were they from? They bear no resemblance to any in our archives."
The local defenders looked almost excited at that question, the redhead leader's eyes burning with intensity. She began to speak rapidly, the pale translator having a hard time keeping up.
"Those are the Collectors. They have been attacking human colonies in the Terminus system, stealing away colonists, striking and disappearing before we could respond. They are one of the greatest threats to humanity, at this moment. And both the Alliance, and the Council have done nothing about them"
The anger behind the leader, Shepard's speech took Miriel aback for a moment. The greatest threat to humanity? They had been utterly devastated by the guardsmen under her command. According to preliminary reports, the 547th had suffered exactly 22 casualties, with most of them standing a good chance at recovery. Morale was sky-high, and the gratitude of the locals certainly did nothing to harm that. She was certain that the language barrier would not mean much for a few of them that night. What was this Council, and Alliance that she had mentioned? The current human governing powers? There was no other idea or explanation she could come up with at the moment, so she moved on.
Pollux had kept oddly quiet, preferring to let her do the talking, simply observing and taking notes. Out of the(admittedly few) Rogue Traders the Colonel had met, Pollux had seemed to be more loyal to the Imperium than others, having used his considerable power and wealth for quite patriotic causes. He looked thoughtful, no doubt wondering about these Collector's naval capabilities. The landing ship they had driven off the planet had been ignored by the Rogue Trader's fleet, their weapons still undergoing repairs from that disastrous warp jump. Given its relatively small size, the Trader Lord began to smile slightly. If that was the greatest the enemies of man could offer, things were beginning to look up.
"What of the Orks or Eldar? Have these Collectors rivaled them in power?"
Before the translator could respond, Pollux cut in, speaking in Low Gothic, keeping the locals out of the conversation.
"Lady Colonel, according to some Inquisitorial histories I have just pulled up, Ullanor was home to an Ork Empire for a large chunk of time before the Great Crusade, possibly before the Dark Age of Technology. If this is truly it, there must be an Ork presence on this planet. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong."
The translator, with an absolutely bewildered look on her face, responded after Pollux's outburst.
"Orks? Outside of bad fantasy writing, they don't exist. What are you talking about? Is this some sort of bad practical joke?"
"Orks. Big, green, and dumb. The enemies of mankind, horrific xenos that destroy all they touch. You… you have never encountered them, have you?"
"Again, outside of poor fiction, no. Perhaps the First Contact package would help? It has a dossier on all known aliens, should that help. Just where exactly are you from? Where have you heard of these Orks?"
"I, and my regiment, are from Armageddon, Segmentum Solar, but I suppose that means nothing in the third Millennium. Miranda, was it? Miranda, it would be better to ask when we are from. And the answer to that would be the 41st Millennium, though the exact time is a matter of some debate."
"Lady Commander, Lord Trader, and our new friends, I may be of some assistance."
The Martian had finally deigned to speak, his hood hiding much of his metal face, blue eyes glowing from beneath it. With a gesture, he pulled up a scrolling screen of text, written in High Gothic.
"These are the records from the colonies library, downloaded by my tech-priests on the surface. The Omnissiah has clearly only begun guiding humanity, as your security methods were nought but chaff in the wind to his blessing bestowed on my adepts. Thanks be to a cognitor one of my priests was sanctifying for the Ordo Grammaticus, we have managed to crack the code of these humans. We know the language, what appears to be one of the many ancestors of Low Gothic."
Miriel did not know how a the various metal bits that made up the face of the Magos could look that smug. The hooded Martian continued, seemingly unperturbed by the worried and confused talking between the three locals.
"If I may, there seems to be more than a few things wrong. There are no mentions of Orks, Eldar, or any other known xenos that would have been operating at this era. Even more worrying, there are records of ancient civilizations before this one, and none of those match descriptions of what those Inquisitorial histories know of that era. There are not many other possibilities. If there is no records of known xenos, no artifacts that should be in place from the War in Heaven, there is but one conclusion, no matter how implausible, that we could draw. We are not in our history. We are in a different past."
AN: So, it's late, and it's not the best, but it's something. Hopefully I can pump out more chapters faster, but Real Life has a way of interfering. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and now to do what I love best about writing: talking to the readers!(Seriously, that you all for the reviews!)
Commissar Carl: I don't have a huge collection, but I do run some pure Skitarii and some Mech Guard. The Alpha, the Sergeant, and the as of now unrevealed Psyker are the planned main characters, but Colonel Miriel, Rogue Trader Pollux, and the Arch Magos are all planned to get quite a bit of 'screen-time'. I'm planning on sticking pretty dang close to the Skitarii lore, and the lore of both settings in general. If I get something wrong, please, anybody, tell me. I'll try to fix it. And yes, plans are on making more.
That-Bosh'tet: I'm not exactly sure about which Skitarii will be seen. Honestly, they are just as eldritch and horrific to most of the ME people as the Reapers and Husks are, and I don't want to horrify the Council too quickly. But I'm not saying no, I'm just not sure what exact units I'll include in future chapters.
Guest and Guest: Yes, Armageddon is a ten planet system. However, the Ullanor system is not. So, yes, as you can see, Amageddon's past is not ignored.
Terence: Yes, yes it would be. Imperial ships are gigantic compared to Mass Effect.
BluePanedGasmask, Guest, edboy4926, and everyone else who reviewed or even just read, thank you, and please keep it up. Next chapter will be up when it is up. Hopefully in a week, possibly(and probably) longer.