Widow Nebula, Citadel. Zakera Ward, 1630 hours, Galactic Standard Time.

A master thief. Of all the things that she should recruit, a thief had made it onto the stack of dossiers outlining the crew she had to acquire. Granted, the sounds of an 'expert hacker' and 'infiltrator' did sound very useful, especially after several close shaves with hordes of LOKI mechs.

'I wish Tali was still on the Normandy,' Shepard thought to herself, as she activated her Omni-tool on a notably...unique...advertisement.

'Please tell me your password, Commander Shepard,' the advertisement spoke, the woman's face on the advertisement still obscured by a hood.

'Silence...is golden,' Shepard said uncertainly.

'Good to finally meet you, Commander Shepard. Kasumi Goto. I'm a fan,'

The woman stepped out from the shadows above her, standing on a catwalk. Behind her was another person; one of those cat-creatures, judging by the slowly swinging tail. But unlike the others that Shepard had seen follow the Empress, there was a certain...crudeness...about the way the creature seemed to stand. As though it were not gifted with the ability to crouch and remain still and silent.

'What's with the password and sneaking around?' Shepard asked, frowning, 'You in trouble or something?'

'I'm the best thief in the business. Not the most famous. Need to keep it that way. And also, I might get into trouble if someone notices S'Tharra with me,'

'Why's that?'

'Oh, a couple of things I've overheard from the Council. Things like how Imperial citizens weren't allowed to be in Council space just yet. Not to mention she's highly visible,'

'This one is grateful that Kasumi-san has taken her away from the four-eyes,' the cat spoke softly, slowly.

'Alright, let's move on. What brought you to Cerberus?'

She shifted slightly, but her hood masked whatever emotions she had, except for a slight downward curl of her lips.

'That's a bit of a story. Short version, they were looking for me. So I trailed them, to find out why. Turns out, they were looking for someone to join you on an important mission...and, they were offering a serious signing bonus-'

'S'Tharra dislikes Kasumi-san's obsession with money, but S'Tharra owes Kasumi-san a great deal,' the cat cut in, bristling slightly, 'Even if this one does not think highly of mercenaries...or thieves...this one will follow,'

'-and I needed a thing I needed help with. So I made them a deal. And here we are,'

'Wait, wait, wait. A deal? Is this something I should know about?' Shepard said, raising her hands.

'Yeah, I guess it slipped their minds. I'm looking for my old partner's graybox. A man named Donovan Hock took it, and I'm planning to get it back,'

Shepard racked her mind, thinking about the article that she had read from an Alliance engineering article that she had read. Graybox. A top-secret...what was it...memory module? Implanted in the brain? She was certain it was illegal for an Alliance member to even have their hands on the tech outside their labs, but one of her partners, with it actually implanted in his brain? They needed to upgrade their security.

'A graybox. Illegal, but there's got to be more to it than that. Tell me about this former partner of yours,'

'His name was Keiji Okuda. The best hacker and entryman I've ever known. Unfortunately, he slipped up and made himself infamous. Stole something he shouldn't. He warned me it was bad, something that could spark an interstellar war if it got out,' said the thief, concern lining her voice, 'That information...got him killed,'

'What could've he found that was so bad...?' Shepard whispered.

'I don't know what it is, but he encrypted it - wrapped it up with his memories. Made it so that it couldn't be unlocked without sifting through the time we both spent together. Now those memories are all that's left of him,'

'I can understand why you'd want it back,'

'Getting it back will be easier with your help, Shepard,'

'If that's what Cerberus promised you, then let's get it done,'

'It'll be fun. And if we're lucky, you won't even have to draw a gun. We should wrap this up - you look pretty silly talking to an advertisement,'

The thief turned around to slink away again on the catwalks, however before she could do so, she noticed another cat-woman approaching, apparently searching for something - or someone - by the way she was scanning the docking bay.

'This one was certain there was a sign of an Imperial soldier here,' Shepard heard a rasping voice speak behind her.

'Excuse me, are you searching for someone?' she said to the lavishly-robed cat. One of the Empress' inquisitors, if she wasn't mistaken; one of those taken along for the diplomatic mission. She wrinkled her nose at the unmistakable pungent stench of burnt rubber and the sharp sting of ozone as the cat approached. The cat must bowed her head apologetically at Shepard as she caught the Spectre's gaze.

'Yes. Pardon this one's...smell, this one has not discharged her abilities for too long. This one has been seeking an Imperial Legion soldier, one whom this one thinks was here but a moment ago,'

She sniffed the air, and looked around.

'Must be a Khajiit. Female, perhaps thirty to forty years of age. Still fairly close, if this one can smell her still,'

'You don't need to look any further. She's right here. Kasumi, come down here,'

The thief jumped down from the catwalks above them, landing with a soft thud on the concrete floor, followed closely by the other cat - S'Tharra, if Shepard heard her name right.

The inquisitor seized S'Tharra's arm, and brushed aside the tan-coloured fur on the top of her left arm. A tattoo of a dragon crest, in blood-red ink, was barely visible beneath the fur. 'Yes, this should be her. Thank you, Commander Shepard. The Empire owes you a debt of thanks for recovering one of its lost citizens. J'Bari shall call the Empress immediately,'

'S'Tharra does not wish to return to the Empire just yet. This one has unfinished business,'

'Truly?' the inquisitor said, raising an eyebrow, 'J'Bari wonders. What unfinished business does S'Tharra speak of, that would overrule S'Tharra's oath to the Empress?'

The cat simply lifted her hand and showed J'Bari the paler band of fur on one of her fingers. The inquisitor's eyes widened, and she wrapped her arm about S'Tharra's shoulders in a comforting gesture.

'This one is...sorry for your loss, clan-mate. However, this one believes the Empress has almost arrived, and she may be better able to provide wisdom than J'Bari. J'Bari knows only how to destroy things, not heal or repair,'

A number of C-Sec officers had begun to usher people away from the shuttle landing area as a sleek black skycar started its approach to the docking bay. Its engines shuddered to a halt, and its doors lifted open, revealing a thoroughly unimpressed Empress and two of her bodyguards.

'Officers, thank you, but your presence is not required at the moment. Kindly leave us, please; I would like to speak to these people in private,'

The officers nodded, and resumed their stations by the docking bay's doors, as the Empress drifted towards Shepard. The Spectre shivered as the air took on an unmistakable wintry chill, one almost as biting as Noveria; and as the Empress' tail brushed past her leg, it was as though her leg had been thrust into a bucketful of ice.

'J'Bari, I see that you have been acting outside my orders again. See to it that you do not suddenly depart when a task remains to be completed. However, I see that you have...found...one of my children. Ah, Commander Shepard. It is an honour to meet you again,'

'Likewise, my...lady,' Shepard said, resisting the urge to rub the freezing patch on her leg.

'I do hope that one of you would be able to recall how this soldier has come to be under your care,' she spoke, 'For I do not think it is possible that one could have escaped the Batarians' foul clutches without assistance, and my ship's records show that you have been docked at the Citadel for the past week,'

'I paid for her at a slave market,' Kasumi said, 'Uh, for her release, not ownership, of course,' she added, flinching as the Empress glared at her.

'I see the shadow of Nocturnal hanging about your soul, human. Yet I do not see her deceit in your words, so I shall assume you speak the truth, for now. I suppose I am indebted to you for this deed. As for you, ja'Khajiit, I do suggest finding a different companion. A thieving knave good company does not make. What of your oath to the Empire? To maintain security and peace wherever it is required?'

She fixed a threatening glare on both the scarred cat and the thief; while the thief backed away a little, S'Tharra stood her ground, standing proudly before the Empress, before declaring,

'This one thinks that this thief has saved S'Tharra's life, and would appreciate Her Majesty to allow some room for understanding,'

'Paaz. A fair answer. And a bold one, too,' Valeria answered, smiling, 'Loyalty in itself is a virtue, S'Tharra. I see that the Legion officers had not wasted their efforts on your training. I have no doubt that the Legion would welcome your return to their ranks,'

'...'

'Am I to assume your silence is agreement? Then see to it that you return to them. The Wrath of Talos shall depart this...Citadel...in but six hours. You shall be able to rejoin your shield-brethren soon,'

Your Majesty, this one has a request she wishes to humbly make,'

Valeria raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to one side.

'I am listening,'

S'Tharra walked to the railing on the edge of the docking bay. There, on a shuttle on the far end, was a human man, about to board a shuttle; his Asari bondmate had given him a tearful kiss before he entered the shuttle, no doubt bound for a long journey elsewhere. Alongside him were a number of what seemed to be the man's children, all waving sadly to their father. She gritted her teeth at the sight. Her husband had died attempting to distract the Batarians so that she may escape. And even now, the chance for a joyful, settled life had been dashed to pieces. She was but three months from her honorable discharge, and he only six. Snarling at her misfortune, she whipped around to face the Empress again.

'This one has...matters...which must be resolved. This one's husband was killed, like some mere herd animal at a Nord's butcher shop. This one seeks a blood price for her loss. This one also possesses a debt to Goto-san, which she hopes to repay by serving with her on the Normandy,'

'What you ask, ja'Khajiit, is nothing less than dereliction of duty. I fear I cannot simply discharge you, as that would only prove to be a terrible precedent for all future recruits. What of the other Legion members, who have remained in service despite all hardships? They have not deserted in search of vengeance, even if their shield-brothers or loved ones have perished on the field of battle. Furthermore, in doing this you shall not receive your honesta missio, and thus forfeit your retirement stipend. Your name will also be struck from the records as a deserter would have done to theirs,'

'This one's husband is dead. Will he receive his discharge? He has no children to speak of, and neither does S'Tharra. This one's home would no doubt have been destroyed in the attack. No. This one will have its pain returned, even if this one's name will never be remembered,'

The air around the Empress chilled to a point where even the floor took on a silver sheen from a fine layer of frost forming on it; her ear twitching in a slight display of annoyance. Maintaining a smile that could hardly be taken as friendly, she spoke in a dangerously sweet voice.

'Remember that your Empress has afforded you shelter and honourable work through the Legion, S'Tharra. And remember your place; you have sworn an oath to honour and defend the Imperial throne until your last breath,'

The threat was not lost on S'Tharra, who glared at the Empress, but nevertheless snapped to a salute, pressing her right hand to her breast.

'This one is still your loyal servant, Your Majesty, and would not think of committing treason,' she growled.

'And I suggest that you watch your tone, youngling. Off to your quarters on the Wrath of Talos!'

Her hand seemed to be wreathed in purple flame, a ball of which she hurled at the cat; she yelped in surprise, and in the blink of an eye, S'Tharra was nowhere to be seen. Shepard's hand reflexively went to her pistol holster, while Kasumi shook her head slowly.

'I am insulted that you would think I would harm one of my subjects without cause,' Valeria said coldly, 'I would have thought better of you, Spectre,'

'Even if you did not harm her, was that the right thing to do? She's just lost her husband. Give her room and some time, maybe she would come to her senses anyway,'

'I will not have an outsider questioning my decisions. Oaths are binding in our realm, and the punishment for perjury much greater than any I could find reference to within your law codices. I am merely protecting her from powers that would sooner see her dead, had she followed through with her desertion,'

'You're the Empress. You could make an exception, just for her,'

Valeria sighed, and fixed her eyes wearily on Shepard.

'If I were to make an exception, then other Legion soldiers would also seek my approval to likewise escape their obligations that they swore under oath. It would consume far too much of my time, time better spent performing research to improve the lives of those under my rule, or to pursue this war against the abominable Hegemony,'

'But-'

'Enough. I have made my point, and may I remind you, Spectre, that while your authority exists within Citadel space, it does not in mine. And I do not believe for a moment that you understand the enormous difference between your oaths and ours. Ours is far more binding than what is written by ink and pen, checked against books of law. Ours transcends the mortal realms, and into the afterlife. I will not have one of my citizens condemned to Oblivion by Stendarr, if I may still save them,'

With that, she wreathed herself in the same purple fire, and vanished into thin air. J'Bari did likewise, shooting Shepard an apologetic smile as she too vanished, leaving nothing but the stench of sulphurous fumes and wisps of smoke.

'Well, there goes the cat. I hope I see her again sometime. She was...quite interesting to speak to,' Kasumi quipped, 'So, Shepard. Where to now?'


Wrath of Talos, Widow Nebula. 1700 hours, Galactic Standard Time.

'Clan-sister-'

J'Bari did not get to say much more before S'Tharra punched her jaw with bone-shattering force. The inquisitor yowled in agony as she felt several of her teeth fall to the ground.

'This one does not think you acted in defence of her clan-mate's wishes, sister,' S'Tharra hissed, hauling J'Bari to her feet by the collar of her robe, 'What do you want, visiting the unworthy foot soldier of Her Majesty?'

'J'Bari does not believe she spoke any harm,' she said angrily, cupping her bruised cheek, 'Nor does she think she deserves that sort of welcome. J'Bari visits you to inform you about your upcoming assignment in the Sixth Legion - one that would allow you to avenge your late husband. But seeing as you care more to strike one who would assist you, this one thinks that perhaps you should read the message yourself, in person. Good day, clan-sister,'

Slamming the dataslate on S'Tharra's bunk, the inquisitor bent over to pick up her teeth and then stalked off, cursing to herself. Fuming, S'Tharra looked at the dataslate, bearing a red Imperial seal. Tapping it, she watched on as a hologram of the Sixth Legion's general appeared above the dataslate.

'Scanning...identity confirmed. Opening message,' the dataslate hummed, before the hologram glowed green and pulsed with every word.

'This is a message from General Vyrthus of the Sixth Legion, addressed to one Centurion S'Tharra. You are hereby formally transferred from the Nineteenth Legion's planetary garrison unit to the Sixth Legion's planetary invasion crew. Under standard procedure, your gear would be transferred back to your original Legion's armouries. However, in light of the grievous attack on Ardour's Reach, you will simply be issued a new set of Ebony laminate armour and monomolecular longsword as befits your rank as a centurion. Upon completion of this message, report to the armoury and collect your new equipment, then report to the shuttle bay, sector A-15 for your new orders. Vyrthus out,'

S'Tharra's jaw dropped. Vyrthus? Sixth Legion? They were legends, even among the Imperial Legion. The Sixth was the most seasoned - and brutal - fighting forces ever to bear arms in the name of the Empire. They were the first ones in a fight, breaching defences and establishing landing zones. To join them was nothing short of the greatest honour a Legion member could ever achieve in his or her lifetime - if they survived, that was.

Standing up, she walked over to the teleportation pad in the common area outside.

'Armoury,' she said. A great force swept her off her feet, and she found herself dumped roughly on the grated metal floor of the Wrath of Talos' armoury. A green hand seized her and hauled her to her feet.

'Well, if it isn't my favourite girl,' a booming, gravelly voice spoke, 'Didn't think you'd be here, on the Empress' flagship,'

S'Tharra stumbled forward two steps as the Orc thumped her back, but nevertheless flashed back a toothy grin. 'The sands are warm indeed. Uncle gro-Grak, how have you been?'

He wasn't her uncle by blood. But the ancient Orc had been her mother's friend long before she had learned to even speak, let alone handle a sword. He was one of the only ones that had remained around her for long enough to know well, for the life of a legionnaire's child was often marked with frequent transitions from garrison to garrison, knowing other legionnaires and their children for brief moments at a time. The Orc had been assigned to her mother's unit as a quartermaster.

'What's that, little one? Speak louder. Only thing I can hear these days are anvils and lathes. Damn earplugs didn't save my hearing,'

S'Tharra sighed. If there was one thing that hadn't changed, he was practically deaf.

'How have you been!' she shouted. The Orc laughed, and shook his head.

'You don't need to shout. I can still hear you. I'm fine, as usual. Malacath has been looking after me. I suppose you'll be after something, now,'

Handing him the dataslate, S'Tharra propped herself up on top of a stack of ebony ingots, tapping her foot anxiously on the ground. Groaning, gro-Grak pulled out a pair of heavy glasses from the pocket on his apron.

'So, if I'm reading this correctly - pardon me if I don't - you've been moved to the Sixth Legion? By Malacath's rotten tooth, you're going to need the best of what we can get you,'

'This one does not understand,' S'Tharra replied, raising an eyebrow.

Gro-Grak slammed a heavy longsword on the crate next to S'Tharra, followed by greaves and a breastplate. He looked at her with worry as he placed a helmet on top.

'Word on the army grapevine is that there will be action soon, and the Sixth Legion, as always, will spearhead the operation. I don't know much more, but from what I have heard, it's going to be a bloodbath,' Gro-Grak said grimly, 'You'll need better than what I'm authorised to give you, but to Oblivion with regulations. I'm not standing by when my battle-sister's daughter is going to be in danger. This breastplate was meant for one of the inquisitors overseeing the operation, but I think I can put another one together before it's needed. You take it,'

S'Tharra lifted the breastplate to eye level. There was a faint tinge of white to the otherwise jet-black metal, and there was not even a single scratch on the glass-like material, and cold as a Skyrim winter to the touch. It was genuine Ebony plate, new and unblemished. She stroked its surface with wonder. Properly-tempered Ebony was far harder than any composite alloy could be, though it was significantly heavier.

'Don't go around telling the others what it really is, or they'll have my hide. That there's been reinforced with an enchantment,'

'What sort of enchantment?'

'I wouldn't know. I barely can read runes, much less enchant, kiddo. I like my hammers, not quill and ink. But the mage assured me that whatever these ingots make would pretty much tide you over until Dagon comes knocking on your doorstep,'

'Thank you, Uncle gro-Grak,'

'Don't mention it. I'll just be making sure that these ingots...got misplaced. Now go, put that on and find what's-his-name, General Vyrthus. He's not a very patient man, from what I hear,'


The shuttle bay was far more crowded than S'Tharra had ever remembered on any of her previous troop carriers. Dozens of corvettes sat in bays, tended by hundreds of hulking blacksmiths. Hundreds more soldiers lined up in ranks, headed by centurions as they performed their drills, while the few legates discussed battle plans on the sides, sitting on stacks of ammunition and armour plating. And if S'Tharra was not mistaken, there were even several tanks on the far side of the nearly quarter-mile long shuttle bay; and perhaps even an entire legion's worth of troops inside the entire structure, all wearing combat gear.

'So, there's our newest member. Welcome to Oblivion, Centurion,' a short, stocky Imperial man growled; a general's stars decorating his shoulder plates, 'See to it that you'll last longer than the previous dozen or so Centurions, won't you? Cleaning out bits of flesh from armour gets tiresome after the fourth time around. But, seeing as you've survived Ardour's Reach, maybe you'll last a bit longer. Just a bit. Let's get started on the plan,'

The man was brusque, and rather ungainly. The lower half of his left leg had been replaced with a Dwemeri prosthetic; while a reddish-glowing lens revolved slowly in its socket over his right eye. If it were not for the thick red Imperial cloak wrapped over his armour, one may have mistaken him for a mere mercenary brute, with the countless scars on his body. He drew out a short sword from the sheath on his hip, and moved towards the enormous paper map on the wall.

'This is our galaxy, soldiers, as mapped by those high-and-mighty cretins that call themselves the Citadel Council,' he barked, drawing a circle with his sword, 'And this is our property, here, in what they call the Attican Traverse. Right now, we've got pirates shooting up civilians on our borders towards the Terminus Systems, and slavers trying to grab some poor fools trying to get to our newest colony,'

He paused to take a breath, surveying each of them with a critical eye.

'The Empress wants the Legion and the Imperial Navy to put an end to these raids. I believe we are all familiar with the punishment for enemies of the Empire?'

S'Tharra shifted slightly. She'd never be able to forget the first time that her decanus had ordered her to execute a Breton rebel. It wasn't clean - not a round from a gun, nor a crossbow bolt to the heart. No, she was ordered to puncture both of his lungs, and leave him in the middle of a fly-infested field. Only when the local priest of Arkay had persuaded the decanus to offer some mercy was she permitted to put the poor soul to rest.

'We're in luck, soldiers. We're ordered to support the Ninth Fleet on a...diplomatic...mission. To a place they call Omega. High command stated that we are to assume that all personnel aboard that sorry void-station are hostiles, and are to be treated accordingly. That is, assuming that the Ninth Fleet is unable to force them to submission. In which case, you'll all be getting the entertainment you crave so much. In any event, organise your troops. We will need them shortly,'

'And are there any figures on enemy troop numbers, sir?' a towering Nord spoke.

'No exact numbers, Svensson. We are aware of the presence of at least a hundred frigates and a few dozen cruisers, but that doesn't concern us. Let the navy pansies deal with the enemy fleet, and we will deal with whatever ground forces they have on that station,'

'Noted. Any further information we should know, sir?'

'None that are important. Now, regarding troop organisation. Svensson, you will be leading the spearhead. Take half a dozen inferno charges with you, and form a breach in their defences. Snow-shod, Rashid, you will follow behind. Bring with you as many flamethrowers and explosives as you feel is necessary. Stick low, stick together, keep the chatter low, the usual-'

He continued to pace, stopping as he came by S'Tharra.

'But...I'm forgetting something very important. Centurion. What do you believe is the goal of the glorious Sixth Legion?'

'This one believes that it is to serve the Empire to the best of our abilities,'

'To the best of our abilities? Truly, it is that easy?' the general chuckled, frowning, 'No, it is much more than that. We are the hammer of the Empire, that which crushes the enemies into dust, so that they will never rise up ever again. Each of us bears a shield, reminding us of the duty that we owe to the thousands of those that look to us for protection. And with that...'

He drew his shortsword, and in a lightning-quick movement, he had the blade to S'Tharra's throat, faster than she could even see. Leaning in, glaring into her eyes, so close that his nose was touching hers, he growled.

'You will return with your shield, or upon it, soldier. We do, or we die. There is no retreat, no surrender; only success. That is what makes the Sixth Legion especially feared within the Empire, and wherever else we damn well please to go. Where other Legions would fail, we will not. I suggest that you get to know your fellow commanders, and get your damn fighting shape back. Those enemies aren't going to back down if you can't even react to this old and slow veteran! Do I make myself clear, Centurion?'

'Yes,'

'That's yes, General Vyrthus to you!' he growled, sheathing his blade, 'Dismissed, Centurion. If you have any further questions, ask Svensson over there,'

The general snapped off a quick salute to all the commanders, before hobbling off to the next group of centurions as quickly as his prosthetic would allow. S'Tharra glared at his back. None of her previous superiors had ever talked to her in such a way, even if they were far higher ranked than her. The Nord that he'd called Svensson approached her, smiling grimly.

'So, you're that new person they transferred over to the Sixth. Pardon General Vyrthus' temper. He's...had a very long service. Twice discharged honorably, and every time returned to serve. I'm surprised they still took him on this time. But we're not here to talk about Vyrthus,'

He glanced over to the ranks of soldiers in the shuttle bay. Unlike the other legions' soldiers, they possessed the battle scars to prove their history. Many had their limbs replaced by Dwemeri prosthetics, to further boost their strength and durability.

'This isn't like any other legion. Vyrthus is blunt, and I won't deny it. But the fact is, our legion gets things done when others cannot, or will not do so. No matter what the cost. You'll be serving with another transfer; Centurion Caedwynn. I don't know if you've ever seen her, but she's done three stints with the Sixth, and hasn't died yet. I don't think I need to tell you more than that. Follow her lead in the upcoming operation,'

'This one wonders. General Vyrthus said that the navy is to negotiate with the enemy first. So why plan for an invasion now?'

Svensson raised an eyebrow as though she were mad.

'I don't know how it is in your legion, soldier. But in the Sixth, we do not negotiate with criminal scum. Likewise, I don't think the Navy will get anywhere with those pirates - nor would they want to. Ah, here comes Centurion Caedwynn. You're in good hands, now,'

Sitting down on a nearby bench, he began to buff away the scratches on his armour. A Breton woman marched towards them, one hand on her hip, and a case of bolts under her other arm.

'Centurion S'Tharra?' she asked tersely, dropping the crate beside the map on the wall, 'Centurion Caedwynn. I take it that you've been briefed?'

Nodding, S'Tharra offered a hand. Caedwynn scowled and slapped it aside with the back of her hand, snarling.

'Drop the formalities. I've retired once, and came back for adventure. I don't even fancy leading a squad of wet-behind-the-ears Imperial Academy recruits who think they're good just because they're in a legion with a good story behind it. Here's the deal; you listen to my orders, don't get yourself killed. Split heads, or pierce the enemy's brains, whichever you want done, and then get a stiff drink at the mess after we're done with any mission. Sounds good to you?'

'Yes, Centurion,'

'I don't think I've gotten it through to you just yet. I've got a name. Caedwynn. It's not 'Centurion', or 'officer'. Get some rest, or food, or whatever you need to keep you going, because we're going to be needed in two hours' time. Go, do that now-'

The dataslate in her hand emitted a high-pitched whine, and then began to glow red. Quickly tapping its surface, her eyes roved over its surface. Her face grew pale, and she threw the dataslate on the nearest table.

'I would never have thought...no, that couldn't be right. Soldier, there's to be no rest for you and I. An order has come from Admiral Servilius. We're to help them load Firestorm shells into their broadside gun pods in preparation for the anticipated siege of Omega,'

'Firestorm?' S'Tharra replied, tilting her head to one side. She had never been one to follow Legion developments, let alone naval developments.

To her surprise, Caedwynn gripped both her shoulders, as she growled darkly, 'It means that they're planning to turn the station into molten scrap. Along with whatever happens to be on it. If the station doesn't fall, then we get sent in, to take out what poor bastards are still left alive. If the station does fall, then we get sent in anyway. To clean up whatever isn't ash or glass,'

The Breton veteran shuddered slightly as she recalled the memories of the final siege of the Frostreach rebellions. The entire rebel stronghold had been turned to glass, and there was scarcely anything that they could have identified as being alive at some point or another. That was the time when the Imperial Mages' Guild had completed their research into the Firestorm shells, and she did not doubt for a moment that whatever master-wizard that had developed it was merely seeking a test target. Needless to say, the Empress did come down upon the Admiral that had ordered the fleet bombardment - and summarily executed him - but the damage was done, and the shells remained a permanent fixture in naval armaments.

'That time, they'd used thirty thousand shells to level a rebel-held stronghold. We're using only a thousand this time around, but I would certainly hope that the Admiral is planning to use these only for intimidation,'

'This one must have misheard. Is Centurion Caedwynn suggesting that she is willing to offer peace to the pirates?' S'Tharra growled, her ears flattening to her skull.

'I've never said such a thing. Look, I like putting bolts through skulls just as much as the next man or woman in the Legion, but there's a difference between killing a man, and killing a whole city, including children and innocents. Let's get moving, before General Vyrthus comes down on our heads for chatting too long. If you want to talk, talk while we're doing our jobs,'


Omega, Sahrabarik System. 0900 hours, Galactic Standard Time.

'Aria. You have to hear this,'

The self-proclaimed Queen of Omega turned to face her Batarian second-in-command, visibly annoyed that he had interrupted her in the middle of a particularly delicious glass of Noverian ice-wine. Putting the glass aside, she motioned for him to sit down next to her.

'A fleet of warships has just jumped in to the system through the Omega 2 relay. Probably those Imperials, if the strange hull shapes are any indication. At least three dreadnoughts present,'

'Send out the mercenaries' ships, then. There should be enough here to deter even the Hierarchy's fleets from attacking,'

'It's not that simple. They've blown three of our cruisers into scrap metal at thirty thousand kilometres out when the damned Blue Suns decided to play hero and power up their weapon systems. The rest have turned back to Omega, too scared to do anything,'

'Keep them there. We'll see what they want. And I'll make them remember the one rule of Omega,'

She gulped down the rest of the wine, and threw the glass to the ground.

'Nobody. NOBODY. Fucks with Aria,' she snarled, 'Send word to the Blue Suns, Eclipse and the Blood Pack. Tell them that Aria's come to collect on her debts. Get their mechs, gunships and all their available frigates and cruisers ready. If they're going to try and take this station, we're going to kill every last one of them,'

'On it,'


Wrath of Talos, Sahrabarik System. 0930 hours, Galactic Standard Time.

'Preliminary scans show that there exists between five and ten million people resident upon the station,' Fortis droned. The Empress looked at the holographic representation of Omega impassively.

'Are there any Imperial citizens present aboard that station?' she asked. The holographic representation flickered green on some of the lower sections, concentrated in a few scattered points throughout the jellyfish-like structure.

'Excellent. As with any slaver scum, they have our citizens gathered in slave pens,' General Vyrthus growled, rubbing his hands, 'Send the word, and I will have my legion escort the citizens back to safety. Along with the slavers' heads, if necessary,'

'One matter at a time, Vyrthus. Wars are won by patiently outmanoeuvring the enemy, not by hurling as many men as we could muster at the problem. Admiral Servilius. Are the bombardment pods currently prepared for use?'

'I have requested assistance from the Sixth, and they have admirably assisted with loading the pods. They shall be ready within an hour, Your Majesty,'

'Very well. Fortis, run a secondary scan for power sources on that station. Perhaps we may be able to capture the station without excessive bloodletting on our side. In the meantime, dispatch a message to the station requesting their leader for a parley. Continue to load the missile pods. Admiral Servilius, have your subordinates move their cruisers into defensive formations. Ensure that their weapons are primed and ready to fire at a moment's notice,'

She turned to Vyrthus, who was visibly disappointed with the Empress' orders.

'Is there something you wish to state, General?' she demanded, her tone icy.

'No, Your Highness,'

'Indeed? Your face betrays otherwise. Remember, General, that sending thousands of men to their untimely deaths is not the purpose of your position. I have not forgotten your rash acts during the Frostreach Rebellions,'

'...'

'Go and prepare your soldiers now, if you have nothing more to speak of. Immediately, General. And see to it that your men do not perish in droves in this assignment. I would truly miss your delightful company,'

As the general grunted his assent and departed for the shuttle bays once more, Valeria sighed, and drifted towards Admiral Servilius, who was intently watching the numerous surveillance displays on the missile bays.

'With all due respect, Your Majesty, I do not like General Vyrthus' attitude towards his men's well-being,' Servilius whispered, 'His casualty counts are greater than three other legions put together,'

'I am aware of that, Admiral. However, one cannot overlook his successes in the face of impossible odds. His legion held firm against forces four times their strength in the battle for New Bravil. Despite what...reservations...I hold against his demeanour, and his style of command, he remains the best option for leading this assault against the pirates, should an open battle break loose. Let us keep this between the two of us, Admiral. We have a task at hand to focus upon,'

She surveyed the holo-display of the system. Four major mass relays existed in the system, and several shipping routes passed through Omega. It was a powerful position indeed, one capable of strangling the pirates' and slavers' capacity to wage war should they conquer it. The asteroid fields in the system were likely rich with metals for the Dwemeri automata to harvest, and the new planet that they had conquered would be far safer without this den of iniquity harbouring criminals.

'May Akatosh guide my words, and Talos guide the hands of my warriors today,' Valeria muttered to herself.


Omega, Sahrabarik System. 0945 hours, Galactic Standard Time.

'Aria. Their fleet is signalling for a clearance to dock a shuttle. Their...admiral...said they wanted to talk,' Anto grunted, 'They haven't powered down their weapons, but they haven't fired either,'

'Classic Terminus diplomacy. Talk while having a gun in your free hand. Well, what are you waiting for? Let them in and let's hear what they've got to say. If they were itching for a fight, they would have fired by now,'

'Alright. I'll have one of my lieutenants send the message now. The Blood Pack are ready to fight, in the lower levels, and Eclipse says their mercs are waiting for these bastards,'

'Damn Archangel had to make things hard by killing all the merc leaders,' Aria spat, 'Get the Blue Suns onboard; by threatening to space them out of the airlocks, if needed,'

Anto nodded, and dashed off to the shuttle bays outside of Afterlife once more. Aria looked around her club - no, her fortress. Despite all the Asari dancers and the bars, the numerous defense perimeter turrets protecting the area - and the anti-aircraft cannons mounted on its roof - served as reminders that she was the supreme power on Omega.

'Aria, we've given them the approval to land, as you requested. I don't see any shuttles coming - wait, what's that,'

'Anto. What's happening?'

'They're already onboard the station. Nine of them. One of them is probably a biotic, and the rest may be too. But my scans don't show any biotic amps on any of them. They're coming to Afterlife now. Two of them are cats, and the rest look like humans,'

'How the hell did they get onboard so quickly?' Aria demanded. It was at least a fifteen minute frigate trip from their position to the docking bay outside Afterlife; to arrive within the space of less than one minute was unthinkable.

'I don't know. The docking bay filled with smoke, and then they were there,'

Standing up, she watched as the inner blast doors slid open, and the Imperial party entered. A floating cat-woman flanked by eight retainers, all wearing some ancient-looking robes, turning up their noses at disgust at the garish lighting of the nightclub - or perhaps the strippers, if their glares were any indication.

'I have been informed that you are the one they call Aria T'Loak. The ruler of Omega, as they call this...place. I am Valeria Septim the First, Empress of the Nirnian Empire,' the cat said, her face betraying no emotion.

'Whoever told you that Aria was a ruler of Omega is wrong. I am Omega. What do you want, cat,'

'It is good that I have come to the correct person, then,' Valeria continued, unfazed; though her followers seemed to stand more stiffly, 'I have...an offer. One that you cannot, and will not, refuse. You will surrender control of this station immediately. You will turn over all slavers and pirates to the Empire for summary execution. And you and your men will be disarmed at the leisure of my soldiers,'

Aria laughed. If the cat had been telling a joke, it had been in very poor taste. There was only one ruler in Omega, and only one rule to follow. And she didn't seem to be aware of it.

'And what would I get out of this,'

'Your life, and a career as an Imperial administrator in this sector. In exchange for your cooperation, you shall receive a full pardon of any and all misdeeds you have made in the past. I assure you that this is not an offer that I extend lightly,'

Aria shook her head slowly. This cat, this ridiculous cat, was ordering her to surrender her station, HER Omega, to be a lapdog to some bureaucracy? This Empress was probably not aware of the power balance in Omega, the delicate manoeuvres that were required to keep the mercenary groups in line. And the fact that most, if not all, people had moved to Omega to escape the very bureaucracy that this cat was now offering to impose upon the station.

'Tempting. But I do not think you understand,'

'And what is there that remains to be understood?'

'There's only one ruler in Omega. Me. And there's only one rule in all of Omega,' snarled Aria, glowing blue with biotic energy, 'Don't. FUCK. WITH. ARIA!'

She hurled a shockwave at the Empress, and her bodyguards instantly unholstered their assault rifles and fired a barrage of bullets at the Imperial party. Valeria immediately produced a barrier, blocking most of the biotic blast, though slugs tore the silver-and-black robe that she wore to ragged strips. The ebony weave beneath held, though she hissed in pain as a few stray slugs pierced a thinner flexible section with her thigh. Another inquisitor was not so lucky, an armour piercing slug piercing his neckguard. He collapsed to the ground, blood spurting from the wound in his neck.

'A pity that you lacked the sense to accept an offer that would have preserved the lives of many,' Valeria growled. Aria's eyes widened as a white-hot fireball glowed in the Empress' hand, growing more intense with each second, 'And an even greater pity that this station would lose a capable magistrate to govern it. Few could boast that they have ruled a realm filled with criminals with any semblance of order. If your wish is to witness the end of this station, then I shall grant it. FO KRAH DIIN!'

Aria screamed as a wave of frost washed over her - and the bodyguards behind her. Unable to move, struggling to breathe, she could only glare at the cat as she turned away from the Queen of Omega. A fireball erupted from the Empress' hand, flying towards Afterlife's entryway. The blast bent the inner blast doors inwards, and the heat fused the metal solid; the other inquisitors hurled more fireballs at the doors, reducing the locking mechanism to a misshapen glob of molten steel.

As the patrons began to register the danger, visitors and dancers alike shrieked in terror and fled to whichever tunnels led beneath the station. Aria's private mercenaries sprinted to the defence of their queen, only to find an enormous slab of ice encasing her and her bodyguards, surrounded by a wall of silvery-white barriers erected by the seven men still standing.

'I shall give you two hours to rethink your decision, Aria. Whether or not this station survives is of little consequence to me. Should you come to your senses, I shall maintain the previous terms of surrender, if you kiss my feet in apology three times before the second hour's coming. But I shall assume that your misplaced pride shall prevent such a thing from occurring, and I will gladly dismantle this station, one level at a time, until every single body upon this miserable station is but ash floating in the Void. Inquisitors, let us depart. There is nothing else that remains to be said here,'

And with that, a purple mist enveloped all of the Imperial delegation, and they vanished as quickly as they had come. The icy barrier likewise melted away, leaving only puddles of water. Aria slammed her fist into the wall beside her, denting it.

'Damn that cat. I'm not surrendering Omega without a fight!'

She looked at her mercenaries, who stared at her blankly, awaiting orders. Gritting her teeth in fury, she shouted at them, 'What are you waiting for? Get your damn guns and get to battle stations. Get every ship fitted with guns ready to fly. Force their owners to give them up, kill them if it's needed! Go!'


Wrath of Talos, Sahrabarik System. 1030 hours, Galactic Standard Time.

'The pirates seem to have rejected your offer,'

'Yes, Admiral Servilius, they have indeed,'

The Empress ground her teeth together as the healer before her inserted a pair of forceps into the wound on her thigh. Insisting that she continue to supervise the progress, the healers have obliged by treating her on the ship's bridge. With a final twist, they had managed to pull the metallic slug free from her thigh. Growling, she sealed the wound with a healing spell, and waved away the healers.

'It's a good thing that you've forbidden General Vyrthus from committing his legion into an all-out ground assault. Stendarr knows there aren't enough anaesthetic potions in our stocks after the Battle of Lorek. Nor do we have sufficient stocks of healing potions of any strength,'

She levitated higher, observing the scanner readings more closely. The enemy fleet consisted of numerous small ships, some merely freighters with cannons crudely retrofitted on their hulls, and others in very poor condition. Still more were older models, perhaps abandoned by the Turian Hierarchy and purchased by a very wealthy pirate.

'I have no illusions that he would not attempt to subvert my instructions to better fulfil his bloodlust. Admiral, send these pirates to Oblivion,'

'As you wish. All cruisers, fire at will,'

Bolts of superheated plasma and beams of pure magicka lanced out from the cruisers' cannons, in a wall of firepower directed towards the enemy fleet. Numerous enemy frigates were blasted clean in half, their kinetic barriers failing to protect them against the shots. However, many more had dodged the shots, utilising their faster movement to hide behind the asteroids that floated around Omega, allowing the rocks to absorb the searing blasts of energy.

'Enemy fleet took moderate damage. Kinetic impacts sustained by frontmost frigates. Asteroid fields absorbed most of our fire,' an ensign reported from the crew pit, waving aside a fire control crew's report.

'Cruisers, begin charging your next shot. Frigates, move forward and engage the enemy craft. Do not permit any of them to reach the dreadnoughts!'

'Sir, forward frigates are reporting- Gods, that can't be right. One of their frigates just rammed into one of ours. And detonated its munitions. By the looks of its radiation wash, it must be a nuclear warhead,'

Valeria frowned. She had banned research on nuclear weapons technologies after seeing the first-hand effects of a runaway laboratory explosion. To think that the rest of the galaxy had been so foolish as to continue using such a terrible, ruinous power was unthinkable to her. The laboratory - and the town surrounding it - had been levelled by the explosion. Decades after, the survivors were still plagued by illnesses caused by the toxic metals used.

'Left wing requesting reinforcements. Right wing has broken their lines and is advancing towards primary objective,' another ensign called out, 'Cruisers on left wing damaged by asteroids, pulling back. Heavy asteroid activity is preventing fleet movement on the left wing,'

'Admiral. Have the dreadnoughts fire upon the larger asteroids to clear a path,' said Valeria.

'Understood. Firing main cannon,'

The entire ship shuddered, and a blinding spear of blue light shot forward from its spinal mounted cannon. Valeria smiled as she watched the holo-display from the frontmost scouting frigate. The asteroid before it was struck clean through the centre, shattering into hundreds of pieces from the sudden burst of energy. What few enemy ships had taken cover behind the rock were pierced through by the shards, exploding soon after as their fuel reacted to the volatile magickal residue that trailed the beam.

'Direct hit. Target disintegrated. Significant cover still present on the left wing. Further bombardment will increase chances of success,'

'Excellent. Continue to press the attack,'

'Enemy centre remains strong. Their ships are too small for cruisers to attack effectively at long distance. They seem to have some newer ships there,'

'Order the right wing to finish fighting on the right and circle around their centre,' Servilius replied, looking at his dataslate. There had been close to thirty of their frigates destroyed in the initial minutes of fighting, wiped out by the wall of fire that the Imperial fleet brought to bear upon them. Many more would have been destroyed, had it not been for the asteroid belt surrounding the station. Six Imperial cruisers had been disabled by return fire, three of them suffering engine failures; one had been catastrophically annihilated when it was unable to move out of the way of a wayward asteroid. Many more Imperial frigates were crippled or destroyed as the battle progressed, shielding the cruisers and the dreadnoughts from enemy fire.

'Glory of Akatosh firing its main cannon. Three frigates on the right flank disabled by their cruisers. Dreadnought fire destroyed two of their cruisers,'

'Their left wing is fleeing. Permission to pursue requested,'

'Permission denied. Order the left wing to converge on the enemy centre's flank,'

'Affirmative, Admiral. Left wing moving in,'

'It seems that you've once again proven your aristocratic colleagues that heritage does not equate to skill, or lack thereof, Admiral,' Valeria said, 'Continue to impress, and I may yet offer you governorship of this sector,'

'That would be an honour, Your Majesty. However, there still is a battle at hand. Do you have any further orders?'

'Continue to bombard the enemy. When their lines are broken, advance on Omega,'

She watched on as the fleets continued to battle. Beams of light piercing through enemy hulls, and volleys of orange slugs slamming into Imperial ships. The enemy's numbers were great, but theirs was greater; there was no doubt in her mind that the pirates were clinging on to false hope. However, there would be some time yet until their numbers could be thinned, and until then, the Legion could not land on Omega.

'Admiral. Ensure that all of the four Mass Relays in this system are locked down. No vessel without either Citadel or Imperial clearance shall pass. I will not have any pirates live through this day. Your vessels have authority to destroy any vessels which do not desist from approaching the relay,'

'As you wish, milady. It shall be done,'


Normandy SR-2, Sahrabarik System. 1130 hours, Galactic Standard Time.

'Shepard. There is a significant Imperial presence between Omega and the Omega 2 relay. Travel in that direction is ill advised,' EDI's electronic voice stated.

'She's right, Commander. It's pretty much a shitstorm out there, and the merc fleets are getting trashed. Aria's cruisers have just come back to dock, and they're pretty much limping back in with half of their parts missing,' added Joker. Shepard looked at the displays that everyone in the CIC was staring at. The fleets were currently locked in heated battle; some Blood Pack freighters had performed suicide runs with illegal nuclear warheads on board, but most had been blasted to pieces before they could deliver their payloads.

Mordin tapped a few calculations through his Omni-tool and shook his head. 'Hm. Over six hundred vessels of different sizes, up to dreadnoughts. Employing energy weapons, kinetic barriers ineffective. Estimate Omega's fleet to last another fifteen to thirty minutes. Implications for Omega...grim. Would like to extract my assistant, if possible,'

'We'll do it, Mordin. Jacob; get a shuttle down there, and get a man called Daniel out. Get as many civilians out of Mordin's clinic as fast as you can,'

'Shepard, you can't-' Miranda protested, though she halted as Shepard thrust a finger to her chest.

'Can't what? Make use of this ship to save some innocent lives? To hell with your Illusive Man's regulations about helping only humans. They can bunk here until we get to the Citadel, and then C-Sec can deal with them. I don't know what the Empire has planned for Omega, but whatever they have lined up is worse than whatever C-Sec can throw at these people,'

Miranda opened her mouth as if to protest, but closed her mouth after Shepard glared threateningly at her.

'Commander, you've just received a private message from Councilor Anderson,'

'Thanks, Kelly, I'll get to it. EDI, try to raise the Imperial fleet. See if they respond,'

'Already done, Commander. I have a connection with their...intelligence. You may use the communications holopad for transmissions,'

Inside the communications room, the table had already been lowered; and a notably severe-looking silvery holographic man stood in the centre, pacing about.

'Commander Shepard. I believe we had met once,' the figure boomed, thousands of voices speaking in unison through it, 'Fortis of the Wrath of Talos, at your service. Your ship has requested my presence, and I have obliged. I question the wisdom of docking your vessel in such a den of iniquity, but that is none of my business. Do you have business with the Empire?'

'I do. I need to speak to the Empress?'

'Regarding?'

'This assault on Omega,' Shepard said, her voice rising, 'This is not an attack on pirates, this is insanity! There are tens of thousands of civilians down there, beneath all the criminals and the mercenaries. They just wanted to pursue their own freedoms, outside of the Citadel,'

'It is not my place to question the Empress; and it is most certainly not yours either, seeing as you are outside of our realm. However, you are identified as an agent of the Council, and thus I have relayed your message to the Empress, as per her prior request,'

The silvery man flickered and faded, leaving in its place Valeria.

'Commander. I do hope that this is important,' she growled.

'I don't think anything is more important than saving innocent lives. There are civilians onboard that station. Free men, women and children. If you are destroying that station, you'll be murdering tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands!'

Valeria surveyed the Spectre as though she were mad. Tilting her head to one side, she sighed, 'If they were truly free men, as you suggest, then they would do as any good Imperial citizen would, and attempt to destroy these criminals. To stand back idly and watch is to support the actions of these foul pirates through indifference. No - there is justice yet to be executed, on the pirates and slavers, and their supporters,'

'But they did not commit any crimes themselves. This is not justice, it's murder!'

'Justice. You speak of justice - but is there truly any justice for the victims of those that the pirates have murdered? Those whose loved ones had been taken by slavers, and to the merchants whose hard-won belongings were taken by those undeserving criminals?' Valeria hissed. Several large ice crystals had formed around her feet, 'I would think otherwise, Commander. These...free men...that you speak of, are unworthy of the lives granted to them by the gods, for they have chosen inaction over trying to ensure that their brethren would be able to live freely, without the threat of violence hanging above their head. They are merely self-interested creatures, willing to be culled at the behest of those wilful enough to wrest power for themselves!'

The vehemence of the Empress' outburst shocked Shepard. Silence hung above both of them, interrupted only by the crackling of the shattering ice at the Empress' feet.

'If there is nothing more that you wish to speak of, Commander, I suggest that your ship depart within the next half hour, for I will not be held responsible if your ship is struck by a stray dreadnought shot. If you truly believe that these civilians deserve to live, then I will allow you to take them as you see fit. Whomever you are able to collect, whether in your ship or one of theirs; I shall allow them to walk free. Should they cause trouble in any region which I possess, I shall hold you personally accountable for their actions. Good day,'

'Damn it,' Shepard spat, watching the Empress' projection disappear; the door to the comms room slid open immediately after, revealing her concerned crew members.

'Jacob, Miranda - get your gear. We've got a lot of ground to cover. Get to the apartments near the clinic and start evacuating everyone. Joker, get the shuttles warmed up. EDI, plot a course for a FTL jump in case their bombardment starts early. Garrus, Mordin; you're with me. We'll collect the people at the clinic. Go, go, go!'


- Codex: Firestorm Missiles -

Developed in 5E 1412, Firestorm missiles revolutionised ship-to-ship and ship-to-planet warfare, permitting smaller vessels to bombard targets with extreme localised firepower. Two black soul gems powered a spherical magickal shield, set to a certain radius prior to launch commensurate with the size of the collateral damage intended. Upon impact, conventional explosives focused a compressed powdered soul gem fuel sphere, at which point the black soul gems would activate their secondary enchantments and produce an intense burst of radiant energy, triggering a localised explosive reaction. The explosion's power was proportional to the size of the containment field; a smaller field would generate a more powerful explosion than a larger one; a further benefit was that the containment fields permitted close-range fire support of infantry assaults, as any damage sustained by objects outside the field was very slight.

A smaller, lightweight version is issued to infantry as demolition charges. Dubbed Inferno charges, these possess less power than a full Firestorm missile, but can be carried by a single sapper.

Owing to the highly sensitive - and powerful - payload of these missiles, a vessel carrying these missiles that is disabled in enemy territory usually has its missiles remotely detonated, both to preserve the secrecy of their construction, and to reduce the risk to any salvage crew that might stumble upon a destabilised missile.

- Codex: Imperial Sixth Legion -

The Sixth Legion was composed of various veterans from all the other legions. Commonly known for its brutal methods of fighting - and brutal efficiency - the Sixth Legion harbors contempt for all enemies of the Empire, as well as an almost equal contempt for new members from other Legions. It is often said that the average lifetime of a new member in this legion is approximately an hour after deployment, as they are almost always used to spearhead ground assaults. However, veterans that have survived extended deployment can be counted among the deadliest troops in the Empire.

A/N

Decided that to follow the Shepard story is probably not the best of ideas, given how people would have likely played through ME2 a few times; and reworked a few characters to better suit racial talents and flaws.

The Sixth Legion is modelled after the Roman Legio XIII Gemina, which frequently took on veterans from other legions. This would ostensibly create a legion that is much more skilled than is typical - albeit with very jaded and harsh personnel, being all veterans. And more likely than not, skeptical of the abilities of soldiers that are unproven in combat from their point of view.

Updates will continue sporadically.

ArcturusWolf, signing out.