QuickNote: Okay, so I'm gonna try to push my way through this chapter, as it's the next one that I know exactly how I want it to go. And, as you may have noticed, All-Out Brawl has been taken down. Turns out writing for a fighting story is harder than it looks. Kudos to NetherRealm, I guess… Anyway, here's the next chapter, brought to you from the eyes of David Anderson.

Chapter 10:

Dead on Arrival

Anderson was getting worried. It had been nearly an hour since the ground team had gone into Estivus, and there was still no contact with them. Something had to have gone wrong. Foster was no less calm, pacing around the CIC, checking the mission frequency every so often. Anderson could hear him periodically mutter under his breath "Goddamn turian", most likely referring to Callus.

Anderson turned back to the monitor, using the Kennedy's scanners to look for Namis' bar. Unfortunately, the scanners could only go so far, and the bar seemed to be outside their range. The communications officer had suggested that Anderson boost the power by realigning the sensor array, but Anderson decided against it. He was a soldier, not a technician. Part of him wished he'd done better in the tech classes during N7 training. According to Shepard's file, he wasn't doing much better. That boy reminded Anderson so much of himself; the brass often asked him if he taught Shepard himself. Hell, sometimes Anderson thought the boy took after him. The thought made Anderson frown. There were definitely better role models in the galaxy.

After Udina ordered Shepard's promotion, Anderson found the lieutenant waiting in the lobby, silent and clasping his hands together. Anderson stepped over to him and sat down across from him. The boy didn't say anything for a moment, then he raised his head slightly. "CAT 6?" he asked, remorse not even the last thing on his mind.

Anderson shook his head. "Try Staff Lieutenant," he replied, handing Shepard a datapad with the information.

Shepard looked over the datapad, scrutinizing his new rank. He looked up at Anderson, eyebrows raised. "So… Telling Udina to piss off wasn't a bad thing? I may have to remember that."

Anderson grinned. "Yeah, well… I wouldn't make a habit of it, just to be on the safe side." Shepard nodded, still smiling. It slowly faded, however, and Anderson knew what was bothering him. "How bad was it down there?" he asked.

Shepard looked away, unable to look him in the eyes. "You saw," he said simply.

Anderson nodded. "Yeah, I saw." There was a pause, before he mustered up the courage to speak again. "Did you know the other marines well?"

"Not really. We were only there a couple of days before…" he cut himself off. Then he chuckled slightly. "There was this one kid, couldn't have been more than twenty. Corporal Toombs. He was eager to please Captain Rooden, constantly asking what he was supposed to do next. Think all he did was piss him off. He was there for seven hours before the camp was attacked." He shook his head. "A goddamn setup."

This caught Anderson's attention. "What was a setup?"

Shepard finally looked him in the eye. "It was an Alliance distress beacon," he said with finality. "That's why we were on Akuze."

The Kennedy's VI voiced itself through the PA. "Alert! Virus detected within the Kennedy's systems. Diverting routines to combat."

Foster turned to his monitor. "A virus? How the hell-?"

"Alert! Multiple virus' detected. System reboot required."

Anderson opened his omni-tool. "Fredericks! Get to the CIC immediately!"

"Aye aye, Commander. On my way."

Anderson typed a command on his console, but static was all he got. Damn it, he thought. He stood and made his way to the elevator, waiting for Fredericks to arrive. As soon as the elevator door opened, he thrust his arm in and pulled Fredericks out. "Come on. We need the virus purged ASAP."

Fredericks walked up to the system access and activated his omni-tool. "Holy shit," he muttered. "There's more virus' in here than any system in the Alliance can handle. It's going to take me a bit to reset everything."

"How long?"

"Forty-five minutes. At least."

"You've got fifteen," Captain Foster interjected.

Anderson waited impatiently for the call to connect. It had taken him three hours to find the frequency of the ship Admiral Tobias Harel was on. It then had taken another two to get clearance to speak with the admiral, and even then he had to lie about his reason for calling. After another moment, Admiral Harel's face showed up on his screen. "Commander Anderson. I've been asleep for two hours, which is pretty shy of the sleep needed by any human being. You'd better have a damn good reason for waking me up."

"I hope so, sir," Anderson replied. "It's about Akuze."

The admiral's face grew even more grave. "What about it?" he asked.

"The reason for the mission to Akuze was never clear."

"It was a classified mission, Commander. It stands to reason that the reason wouldn't be clear to anyone but the marines carrying it out and the officer who gave the orders."

"Classified aside, sir, almost an entire unit of Alliance soldiers was wiped out. The mission's purpose may have something to do with it."

"With a thresher maw attack? Surely you understand how ridiculous that sounds, Commander."

"Whatever the reason for their being there, it brought them close enough to a thresher nest for the maws' predatorial instincts to drive them to attack the marines. The survivor believes it may have been a setup."

Admiral Harel glared at Anderson. "Are you suggesting what I think you are, Anderson?"

"Absolutely not, Admiral. I'm simply trying to piece together every fact about this that I can."

"Let me give you some advice, Commander: stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." The call abruptly ended, leaving Anderson baffled.

"I've got it! It's starting back up now!"

Anderson returned to his station, just in time to receive a transmission. . "Shore team to Kennedy; come in, for Christ's sake!"

"I've got shore team!" Anderson called over his shoulder. Then he spoke into the radio. "Lieutenant, is that you?"

. "It's damn good to hear your voice, sir!" Shepard called. "Situation's critical down here. O'Brien's wounded, and we've got more hostiles than we can deal with. We need assistance and we need it now."

Anderson turned to Foster, who spoke into his omni-tool. "Riley, Thomas, suit up. You're going down and extracting the shore team."

Anderson nodded and turned back to his monitor. "Alright, Shepard, we're sending Riley and Dr. Thomas in the shuttle. Activate your PEB so we know where to send them." A moment later, two dots appeared very close together. "Got 'em!"

It was a tense ten minutes before the shuttle arrived. Anderson stood in the shuttle bay as it landed and rushed forward to help the team, but was greeted with a crying Dr. Thomas, an angry Sergeant Riley, a thoughtful Callus Orion, and a somber Lieutenant Shepard. Their faces said it all: O'Brien was dead. As Callus walked away from the shuttle, Foster glared after him. "Did you at least learn something after all this?" he demanded.

Callus didn't stop, but spoke in a low tone. "The person who's in charge of the assassin is Michael Hollister."

Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long… I really had a hard time finding a way to get through this chapter. As for the Anderson flashbacks, don't worry, this won't be the last of them. I'll finish up that arch later on down the road, as well as Shepard's Earthborn arch. Please review and let me know how I'm doing!