A/N: Next chapter folks… Sorry about the lag on my part.

On my own…thoughts as to the chapter. I only want to say that to me, the Citadel Council's resolution of the First Contact War, giving the Alliance colonization rights in the Attican Traverse and Skyllian Verge always seemed to be a ploy to me. The Asari are described in the Codex entries as taking the long view in things, and considering they live for centuries…they're thought of as making poor decisions in the short term, but are usually vindicated in the long term. Looking at the cannon results of giving colonization rights to the Systems Alliance resolved a large number of issues for the Council. It dealt with the Batarians politically since they left rather than making the council force them out, it placed a potent military force against them that fought pirates and slavers, placated the Systems Alliance in the aftermath of the war, and divided the Alliance fleet across a larger area of space that's rather distant from the Systems Alliance core systems. In essence, the Citadel Council shackled the Systems Alliance into a peacekeeping role without giving them the benefits of membership on the Council, or even paying them.

Remember, in ME 1 what Captain Anderson said? The Citadel wanted the Systems Alliance to colonize the Attican Traverse and Skyllian Verge to stabilize those regions, but the Citadel Councilors are extremely reluctant to send aid to colonies attacked by Saren's Geth. Even looking at the Galaxy map in ME 1 & 2, you can see the distances involved in traveling between Sol and the Traverse. Halfway across the galaxy, 50,000 lightyears. You need to keep fleets guarding that, even with Mass Relays…it's a long way away.

Divide and conquer, keep the Alliance military committed halfway across the galaxy, using their combat power to contain a known threat…and make them think that they're benefiting from it. It's incredibly cunning, and in my mind, the reason that the Asari made that negotiation in cannon, the same reason they made it in my story.


Shanxi, Memorial Square September 1st 2163

Shanxi was still not rebuilt. The short and brutal three weeks of warfare that had ground it's way through the outer lying districts of the Capital city had left brutal scars across them. Most of the city had been reduced to rubble. Turian bombing had devastated much of the central city. Bodies, both Turian and Alliance had long since been dug out of the ruins of the city, but bones could still be found in them. The starport had been rebuilt, but the simple elegant lines of Shanxi's skyline were a memory that had yet to be rekindled. Much of the population who remained lived in simple buildings, not the towering skyscrapers that had yet to be rebuilt. The Alliance was pouring most of the reparations that the Citadel had given them into rebuilding the colony, but it was admitted that Shanxi would never be as attractive as it had been before the Turians had launched their assault upon it. Most colonists didn't want to live with the specter of a Turian invasion hanging over their heads. So reconstruction was limited by the number of people who lived there. But one thing that had to be done was to honor the dead. And given that the Short and violent conflict with the Turians was the Alliance's first true interstellar conflict, it was fitting that the monument be made on Shanxi along with similar monuments on the Alliance homeworlds.

Memorial Square had originally been the site of an office complex that had taken a direct hit from one of the Borsta's counter battery rounds. The office building had been annihilated along with the anti-air battery atop it…in it's place a massive crater the size of a city block had been created. When the memorial had been built, that 'natural' bowl had been incorporated. The sides had been tiered out in broad stairs that gently carried one down to the central monument. One each of the broad and wide levels, marker stones rested barely a foot tall, on each was inscribed a the name of a soldier who had died and where they were from. Over 70,000 of those individual stones rested in neat and silent rows, the names facing inwards towards the central monolith. Carved of black obsidian, the obelisk rose to twice the height of a humanoid. On this central monument was carved the name of every civilian who had died during the battle of Shanxi, murdered by Admiral Varkus' bombardment. More than 90,000 names adorned that stone, mute witnesses whose testimony needed no explanation.

Surrounding this obelisk was a wall that came up to the average person's waist. On this was the militia monument, a flat 'tablet' like top went around the top of this wall, that boasted the names of every member of the Shanxi Militia who had given their lives defending their families and homes against the Turian onslaught. Behind each name though, a holo played, showing the face of the males and females who had died, standing strong not for flag or country, but for family and home.

The entire monument was always lit, either by daylight, or by the soft glow of the marker candles that existed for every soul whose life had been lost. To walk in this memorial, you could feel the eyes of those who had died watching you…feel their presence around you as you stood there. It always made those who stood within it's limits silent. Standing there, seeing the markers at night…it took your breath away.

Major Carmichael returned to the memorial more often than most. He always wore his dress uniform. Even if he was militia and not Alliance Army, he still wore the dress green uniform that he had never really worn for anything except what he had been ordered to wear it to. But Carmichael always wore it here. He looked around the monument and saw other soldiers standing around. Some looking at names, others with heads bowed, some speaking to the markers. Carmichael never spoke to them. But his troopers, they knew he was here, and he had to show them respect when he came. As he walked down the broad steps, he passed other soldiers, and each of them straightened and saluted him as he passed. The Alliance Medal of Honor around his neck was the highest award to be earned. The simple bronze star was not a gaudy emblem, it was simple, but it's power was beyond compare in the military community. Even if those who wore it merely viewed it as an award that should have been given to a dozen others…they still wore it…but not with pride…not really.

Carmichael wore his out of honor for the soldiers who had died under his command, even though he had been a Captain when the Turians had invaded, he'd commanded over six hundred militia and army troops whose units had been wiped out. He'd fought and bled along side of them and many of them hadn't crawled through the wreckage as they'd fallen back from the Turians. Those who had were heroes, they'd gotten their medals, had their awards. But those who hadn't, their names were here. Carmichael walked down to the militia memorial and walked around the panels where the names of the militia had been inscribed. He knew where every name was, he knew it by heart, and he knew how long it took him to touch every one of their names and close his eyes for a moment, remembering the soldier who went with it. He knew how long, but he never begrudged it, he never regretted spending hours here, remembering soldiers…because that was what he knew he had to do, he wore the Medal of Honor for the same reason, to remember.

To remember the sacrifices and the lives lost. Not passing things like honor and glory, but the things that would always remain, the lives lost.


The Citadel, Presidium Junction, Zakera Ward, July 5th 2163

"It's not Miami." Ambassador Kyle Sykes said idly, standing at the large window that looked out across the massive form of Zakera ward stretching off into the distance. The dark skinned man was idly gazing out the window of the newly completed Systems Alliance 'embassy' on the Citadel. Built near Presidium Junction, close to the central presidium ring, the massive structure was one of the larger private buildings in the Ward. The structure looked for the most part like any office building…but unlike the rest of the Ward's structures, this one had been built wholly by the Alliance, complete with materials shipped in on Alliance transports. Fifteen stories of synthetic diamond armor glass and adamantium supports made it look like any of the myriad office buildings close to the Junction, but instead, it was as strong a fortress as any military bunker. Taking four years to design and construct, after an entire year's worth of political negotiations with the Council for the construction of the building, it was a marvel that it existed at all.

Although the Citadel Council had not granted the Alliance an embassy…the Systems Alliance had not been in any kind of a hurry to petition for one. But Ambassador Jiv-nar had been very clear to point out to the Council that an 'embassy' for the Systems Alliance was a diplomatic post that existed between nations. It had been one of the many 'linguistic problems' between the Citadel Council and the Systems Alliance, like most it dealt with the simple fact that the Citadel seemed to use terms that possessed different meanings for the Alliance.

'Embassy' was one such term…to the Council, an embassy was only offered once a people had accepted the Council's authority and agreed to abide by their accords. That wasn't something that the Systems Alliance was going to do. But given the diplomatic situation, the Alliance had made it clear that there needed to be some kind of diplomatic station on the Citadel, so permission had been granted for the Alliance to build their own diplomatic mission without the same privileges as other species. The Council had been very clear when they declared permission that the Systems Alliance wouldn't receive the same degree of diplomatic access as the other species. Which had been met with a simple reply of 'no great loss' by the State Department.

"No, it's not Ambassador, but the Citadel is supposedly the most cosmopolitan metropolis in the galaxy. All the Citadel races have sent migrants here." The deputy chief of mission said behind him, her voice soft as she spoke. Ambassador Sykes looked over his shoulder at Min-tra, the female Aslan looked up from her data pad and cocked her head to the side.

"Yes…supposed to be. New frontiers and all that. But how often do you get odd looks on the street from the locals?" Sykes asked.

"Fairly often sir, but I usually expect it to be for my startling good looks." Min-tra said with a smile and received a chuckled from Sykes in return. The ambassador turned from the windows, letting the cityscape beyond them carry on with it's existence, his eyes and mind returning to his duties.

"So what is on the agenda today?"

"The Volus are here again. The ambassador is claiming that we're infringing on 'historical Volus markets'. Of course, they have been proclaiming their commitment to Free Trade in just about every venue they can find. I've included a few comments from their prominent Industrialists proclaiming their desire for trade in Alliance markets." Min-tra said, handing a data pad to Sykes, he looked at it for a few moments.

"They're getting keyed up over a few Wal-Mart's?" Sykes said looking at the information, rolling his eyes.

"And Burger Kings ambassador." Min-tra said in deadpan.

"Of course, that makes all the difference. And the reason that the commercial Attaché can't handle this…?"

"The Volus have been hearing 'free trade' from her every other word, they expect you to have a more…open understanding as to what they mean. Of course, they're smarting over the fact that Zurich is showing a much more reliable streak than the traditional Volus banking institutions." Min-tra pointed out.

"So we're pissing them off on more than one front?" Sykes said with a sigh. Ambassador Sykes was without a doubt one of the most important beings in the Systems Alliance. Originally a Career Foreign Service Officer for the State Department, he had risen up by using the proper mixture of politics (a common commodity in the State Department), talent (a rarer commodity, and charisma (the rarest of them all in any government bureaucracy), he'd bundled them together and managed to earn the post of 'Ambassador to the Citadel' even if the Citadel Council didn't maintain any kind of embassy on Arcturus and refused to refer to the Alliance facility as an 'embassy'. Sykes had the unenviable job of dealing with just about every diplomatic issue that existed between the Citadel Council and the Systems Alliance. Strangely enough, it wasn't over military standoffs since the borders were very clearly defined, nor was it over espionage across space, the Alliance Intelligence Service's senior agent in the embassy took care of that. No…trade…that was the biggest concern for the most part. Alliance Industries had seen the opening of the galaxy as a tremendous opportunity, and even before an official trade mission to the Citadel could be undertaken in the aftermath of the First Contact War, Human and Aslan traders had already been loading freighters with just about anything that they thought would sell.

So ironically, the Embassy that Sykes and his staff operated from had offices for major Alliance Corporations of just about every stripe and product. From Electronics firms like Sony/Samsung, and Drak-mek-tal/IBM…to Arms manufacturers like Colt/Heckler/Koch, Verak/Benelli, and Drak-atk-kiv/Federal…to software giants like EA/Bioware, Microsoft, and North American Synthetics. Most major corporations had an office at the Embassy and were eager participants in the trade shows that regularly filled the convention halls that had been designed into the Embassy. At first they had been curiosities to the residents of the Citadel…but it hadn't taken long before the Citadel's own traders had begun to see Alliance goods as more than merely trinkets. Salarians and Quarians flocked to the electronics and software expos, Batarians, Krogan…and even Turians came to examine the Arms demonstrations by Alliance firms.

Sykes didn't relish playing ringmaster to the diverse assortment of Alliance corporations that filled the Embassy, especially since many of them were bitter rivals back in Alliance Territory, but out here, the corporate interests had a 'new world' mentality…there was profit everywhere in their eyes. From new electronics that were ten years old being sold to Salarians, to a food processing corporation marketing genetically engineered Dextro based beef to Turians, they were making the kind of money on the Citadel that hadn't been seen since the days of Henry Ford and Andre Carnegie. Not that they didn't bristle at some of the 'regulations' that the Alliance Parliament had put in place.

The First Contact War had been won in no small part due to the Alliance's edge in technology. It was an edge that the Alliance wanted to keep, so the Parliament had passed resolutions limiting the tech levels of any goods sold in Citadel Space. It restricted weapons technology, computing technology and electronics among others, anything that could be turned back against the Alliance was forbidden. Most corporations had lobbied long and hard against those restrictions. They'd poured billions into campaigns to give them unrestricted trading privileges…but the political leadership in the Alliance had bucked the usual trend of politicians to pander to those who gave them money, and instead they showed remarkable foresight and forbade the practice…and to drive home the point, made it one of the few actions that could be charged as High Treason in the Alliance. Which was one of the reasons that Sykes occasionally regretted being so good at his job.

But only occasionally, he smiled to himself at the thought. He couldn't deny that he loved being here, doing something that truly impacted the galaxy. Plus it was pretty nice to be considered the number one diplomat in the Alliance.

"What else is on the agenda today?" Sykes asked, sitting down at the carved obsidian desk that he'd had moved to the embassy. His hands rested on the black polished stone, tapping the top of it idly.

"The Batarian situation has returned. They're claiming that our ownership of the Skyllian Verge is against council law." Min-tra said tiredly. The Batarians tended to bring up the issue fairly often, but the Alliance had yet to move any colony ships into the contested territory. But, the Alliance had just unveiled a new 'colonization drive' with an undisclosed direction. It could be into local space, but it could also be moving into the Verge or the Traverse, finally following the Navy's covert reconnaissance probes of the territory. Sykes didn't want to have to deal with the situation, ever since the Batarians had announced that they considered the Skyllian Verge to be a zone of Batarian interest in the wake of the Citadel Council's ceding of the territory to the Alliance things had been tense with the Hegemony. While the Alliance had yet to do anything more than scout, the Batarians had been furious. Furious enough that the Alliance had been tempted to move forces into the Verge to 'stake their claim'.

But the Batarians weren't the only ones to react harshly to the Council's abandoning of the Verge. Turian, Asari, Salarian, and numerous other Citadel races had small colonies in the area…colonies that had come under de facto Alliance control. It had sparked more tensions with the Citadel, and while the council had made it clear that the treaty would be enforced. There were some in the Alliance's military and political leadership who wondered if the Council hadn't made their concession with an eye to causing strife and tense relations for the Alliance. Sykes had been communicating back and forth with the State Department on the issue almost weekly since the Batarians had first contacted the Alliance over the issue. No answer had yet been satisfactory for the Batarians yet. They hadn't accepted that the Council had given up the territory in the interests of peace, nor did they accept that the Alliance wasn't going to back down.

The Alliance intelligence reports on the Batarians all said the same thing, they were mostly a group of thugs, pirates and slavers who were used to having their way and not used to having others stand up to them. The Alliance Victories during the First Contact war had made them reluctant to try and bully around the Alliance, but a surprising increase in piracy and the first attempts at slaving in Alliance Territory were taking place. Both of those offenses had been practically non-existent in Alliance Territory due to the rather draconian sentences put in place to respond to them. Piracy was handled by military tribunal at naval stations once the pirates were caught. Slavers faced summary execution if they were caught with their cargo, alive or dead. Both of those bleak actions had made piracy extremely rare, and slaving was unheard of. But the recent upswing in incidents had led the Alliance to believe that some kind of proxy war was going on. Possibly being done by the Batarians…although no connections could be turned up.

Sykes knew that something had to be done about the situation. The Batarians would get more desperate the longer they were put off, and unfortunately for Sykes, he would be the one trying to diffuse the situation. He couldn't give them the Verge, or the portions of the Attican Traverse and Terminus Systems that had been ceded from the Council. Although apparently the Council had given the Alliance rights to 'future claims without contest by the Council'…not actual rights to the territory, just the promise that they wouldn't argue against any claims the Alliance made…which for now were none. Sykes admired the political maneuvering that the Council had undertaken to give the appearance of generosity while not actually giving up anything at all. It had been clever, clever enough that the Alliance couldn't do much more than grumble about it.

Sykes sighed and looked at the Datapad.

"Anything else?" He asked Min-tra and the Aslan shook her head. "No such like Ambassador, the Batarians are intent on speaking with you, but the Volus were here first." She said and checked the chrono on her wrist.

"Right…then let's speak with the Volus representatives over why they find 'always low prices, always' to be so offensive." Sykes sighed and wished he had something more intriguing to deal with than trade and territory rights.


Deep Space near Relay 436, Corvette SSV Avalon, July 5th 2163

Name a Marine who likes customs duty, and you've found yourself someone who wasn't a Marine. At best, the work was tedious, at worst, it was simply mind numbing and boring. Most time, Alliance Corvettes and Frigates spent their customs and security patrols simply waiting at Mass Relays and navigation points to board and inspect any starship that passed through them. For the Marine compliments, it was a study in simply waiting for something to happen, and then carrying out the most monotonous duty they had been trained to carry out. Search a ship, inspect it, check the cargo, and then wave it past. Not something you liked doing, but lately the mission briefings had been treating the routine operation as one that could get you killed, hearing that kind of thing from your NCOs did make you sit up and take notice. So the mostly bored Marines started being bored and tense when they did their inspections.

But the Avalon was still on patrol at the Mass Relay that linked this portion of Alliance space to Citadel Space. It was mostly Asari and the only real experience that the Marines aboard the Avalon had with them came from the few interesting features in Playboy and the 'training videos' that the Navy pukes aboard kept hidden in the footlockers. None of the Marines had yet to see an Asari ship pass through the Relay, mostly it was Alliance traders going the other way or bringing back their own loads of goods…not that there was much of that. The Squad had boarded a total of two ships in the past week. It wasn't like the Shanxi Relay that boasted almost a hundred vessels a day. This was a backwater post…but you still had to be on guard, no telling what was going to happen.

Even if 'what was going to happen' was a transport out bound from the core worlds with a flight manifest proclaiming it to be headed towards Illium. The Avalon had hailed it, and dutifully, the freighter halted, powered down and stood to for boarding by the Corvette's marine detachment. The ten veteran troopers didn't expect much of a fight, but they drew their Carbines, shouldered their Battle Rifles, and loaded up for the mission all the same, boarding the lightweight gig that handled the boarding ops so that the Corvette couldn't be counter boarded. It was far from a spacious craft, barely big enough to hold the ten marines aboard the Avalon, but it did the job. As the gig crossed the small gulf between the two ships, the squad did their final checks on weapons and gear. All the while getting their pre mission briefing information over their neural links. The Transport that they were searching was a pretty standard light freighter, two hundred meters long and 3,000 dtons displacement. Normally carrying a crew of five, possessed of light armaments in case of pirate attack. Of course, those were the standards of the class. There was no telling what the crew had done to their ship, and just how much might have changed from the stock layout.

"Alright, you know the drill marines, let's do this one by the book." Sergeant Hall said over the link as the ship's gig docked with the side passenger airlock on the transport. His marines stood, blasters in hand rather than the far more lethal Battle rifles. Blasters wouldn't rip holes in bulkheads like the fusion weapons would. Unless his team needed to vent a portion of the ship to the big V, they'd stick with good old particle weapons. As Hall faced the lock, the door synchronized and pressurized with the ship and slid open, revealing the crew waiting for them. The Marines startled at the sight of Turians and Batarians waiting for them, along with an Asari. Their surprise didn't register to anyone outside the combat links of their system. But the Turians and Batarians gazed at the Alliance Marines impassively, as if they'd expected this. The Asari strode forward, holding the ships data pad out with the cargo manifest and itinerary.

"I'm Captain Tranya. I hope this goes quickly marine." She said brusquely as Hall took the data pad and examined it. He didn't look up, but his helmet sensors kept a clear read on every one of the all alien crew. His battle AI registered eight of them, plus the Asari Captain. All of them were wearing combat armor, all of them were armed. That was the second thing that set Hall's nerves on edge, the first was that there wasn't a single Alliance citizen in view.

"I am Sergeant Hall, your ship is being searched under routine inspection. I trust that you will co-operate Captain?" Hall asked as his squad filed out of the airlock, a show of force to give strength to his words.

"We shall co-operate marine. Though the reason for this search is suspect, does the Alliance see fit to harass merchants in it's territory?" Tranya asked with a snarl. Hall looked up, once more, his senses tingling. He wasn't a psi, but the human impulse to make 'gut feelings' about things had him on edge. Over the squad comm he signaled corporal Yin-tak-zhark to take his fire team to search the cargo areas. As the five marines moved out, Hall noticed that the crew seemed to move to attempt to stop them, but restrained themselves. Hell looked at Tranya for a moment before handing back the data pad.

"You're hauling fabrics from Muan Issler to Illium?" He asked as the Asari took the data pad back from his gauntlet. The feminine alien simply nodded.

"That's not a crime is it human?" One of the Turians growled. Hall didn't turn and look at the alien, his HUD had a full 720 degree situational awareness, so the speaker was clearly identified as the words left his mouth. Hall's eyes narrowed behind his view plate, things were fishy, very fishy.

"If you're actually hauling fabrics, then no, not at all. But it's rather unusual to see an Alliance manufactured craft in the hands of a non-alliance crew. Especially since your peoples have cast such a…negative outlook on Alliance achievements." Hall replied, without turning, instead focusing on the scowl of the Asari as she glared at his faceplate. She didn't respond but shook her head in disgust.

"The Hierarchy is right about them." One of the Turians muttered.

"How's the search going?" Hall asked over his suit comm, his bad feeling no ebbing at all…simply building with every passing moment.

"Corporal, how does it look?" Hall asked the Vegan in command of his other fire team.

"Nothing unusual sarge. Just boxes and crates marked to Vegan standards. All fabrics and textiles it seems in two of the holds." Yin-tak-zhark replied simply, but the Vegan's voice was a little off.

"What's up Yin?" Hall prodded.

"I got a bad feeling Sarge. It's all too…perfect. Like it's taken chapter and verse from the Alliance Starlanes operations manual. Not a single discrepancy or error, the damn crates are lashed down according to spec." Yin replied, his voice uneasy. The Human sergeant resisted the urge to nod in agreement. Controlling body language was something that you had to learn when you operated in Marine power armor, the slightest motion could easily get out of hand even with the neural uplink. Shrugging your shoulders could shatter your spine, shaking your head could break your neck, just to name a few. Plus when someone saw a group of marines standing stock still, communicating without an audible word…it intimidated in a way that few things could…that was just an added bonus.

"Yeah…crack a few crates." Hall said over the link. Something was wrong…

"Aye aye." Yin replied.

"Captain, in accordance with Alliance Law we will be searching several of your cargo crates during our inspection. You will be reimbursed for any damages that occur." Hall said coldly over the audio link. Tranya blinked and straightened, the indignation radiating from her body.

"How dare you invade my ship and violate my cargo!" She snapped and the Turian and Batarian 'crew' moved slightly where they stood. Behind him, the other four marines in his element raised their carbines slightly. The measured motion was enough to grab the attention of the aliens, and they froze.

"Captain, under Alliance law, I have the right to make sure that all your manifests are accurate and…"

"We got something Sarge." Yin replied over the comm and with a thought, an image of Yin's HUD filled a corner of Hall's vision the first person perspective from the Vegan's armor gave Hall a visual of a crate that had been packed with a few layers of fabric in bolts, but beneath that were weapons.

"Understood." Hall said and turned to fully face the Asari Captain. His team had raised their weapons, but the veteran marine sergeant hadn't drawn his sidearm, instead he was merely willing to look up and shake his head. The ship's crew didn't move as the muzzles of four blaster carbines swept over them, weapons in the hands of trained marines usually made people freeze. The Asari Captain stepped forward and glared at Hall's faceplate.

"What is it now marine?" The captain said.

"Well, you're in violation of Alliance arms trading protocols, along with registering a falsified cargo manifest and I'm pretty sure that's not your real name either, but I digress. You're all under arrest." Hall said, a smile on his lips. The Asari blinked in surprise and the indignation was simply replaced with shock.

"On the deck, drop your weapons." Lance Corporal Hesh snapped from her place behind Hall. The vicious female Vargr stepped forward, her carbine ready as the Turians and Batarians knelt down slowly to the deck, their rifles and pistols dropping to the floor. Hesh moved forward with the other Marines and began flex cuffing the crew, the Asari resisted for a moment, but before she could do anything with her biotics or even draw a weapon Private Vastrati brought his hind leg smashing into the rear of the Asari's calf, the motion taking her leg out as the Aslan Marine grabbed her head tendrils and forced her to her knees. A howl of pain filled the airlock passage as she was bound…Vastrati doing the job exceptionally well by binding the Asari's arms and legs together.

"Thorough Vastrati, very thorough." Hall said with a smile behind his visor.

"Aye sir." The Aslan said with a growl and a chuckle as he knelt next to the Captain, his carbine pressed against the back of her neck, curtailing the obscenities that the female Captain was hurling at the marines. The Batarians and Turians were quiet, but with three power armored marines watching them, they decided to be prudent and stay silent.

"Prep them to be moved back to the Avalon and let them know what we found. I want to check what Corporal Yin found." Hall said and Lance Corporal Hesh gave an affirmative from where she stood. Hall headed down the main corridor, the HUD in his armor giving him a full map of the transport and showing him where the fire team was. Hall made his way down the central corridor of the cargo levels, spotting Private Samuels standing at the airlock hatch. Hall entered the cavernous cargo space and saw the rest of the team cracking open cargo containers and pulling weapons out of them. As a Marine, he knew most of the weapons by sight, even without his suit's AI analyzing them and identifying each on his HUD.

"It's a full playground of destruction Sarge." Corporal Yin said, laying out weapons on an improvised table of crates. Hall looked at them and walked over to the layout. Hall touched them and examined the weapons one at a time. First was an archaic M-8. In production for over a century and a half, it's development originated almost two centuries prior, a projectile selective fire assault rifle chambered in 7.8mm, it fired caseless solid propellant rounds from a forty round clip. Designed and built in the 2020's it had been the standard infantry weapon for the North American Union before it became obsolete as an infantry firearm. The rugged versatility of the weapon kept it in civilian production constantly even to current day. Hall raised it to his shoulder and looked down the integral scope then replaced it on the table.

"Why would they want one of those? Damn things are a dime a dozen on any Alliance world." Hall mused as he checked the rifle's serial numbers and ID tag on the side. His AI analyzed the information rapidly, but Hall could tell everything he needed to know from a few small tags. The long numerical serial number that was nano-etched on all the weapons parts and stamped on the side of the lower assembly identified it as being selective fire, civilian model. Something you could pick up at Cabelas or Wal-mart for that matter, you didn't even need a license for the thing. The Serial numbers would give plenty of leads to the Security Service in tracking down who made the sale. Hall set the rifle back down on the crates and picked up the next one.

A light support weapon, also projectile and also a caseless firearm. Hall examined it for a moment and set down the weapon, noting the fresh oil that his suit sensors told him matched the CHK standard they used in their armories. Hall shook his head, an M249 was an ancient weapon, chambered for 7mm caseless rounds. Belt fed, and boasting a hundred rounds capable of firing in burst, or fully automatic. Something that required a few sign offs to own, but not something unheard of in most collector's homes. Hall shook his head once again, it was a commonplace weapon, but that was because of the Alliance's firearms laws.

Anything that operated on a principle of chemical propellant was more or less legal with a background check. Automatic weapons, heavy support weapons, hell even crew served weapons were legal to own by the average citizen…but with the sensor technology used by the Alliance, chemical propellants could be readily detected and traced, making the use of a firearm for terrorism, or even a simple crime a dangerous proposition for the criminals in question. Hall looked at the weapons that had probably rolled of assembly lines months ago, and which had been designed over a century ago sitting on the cargo crates and wondered what the hell these smugglers wanted with them. Hall looked at the next weapon laying on the makeshift table. A Lair standard gyroc assault rifle. Behind his helmet Hall whistled slightly and Corporal Yin nodded, pointing to the weapon with his tendrils.

"Yeah, that had me a little concerned, along with the rest." Yin said, knowing the specs of the gyroc weapon by heart. It was a heavier weapon than anything a civilian could easily own. A gyroc fired a self contained rocket propelled round it was heavy duty firepower, considering the conventional caliber of the thing put it at a 15mm round with a miniature armor piercing explosive round and enough propellant to drive the shell out to almost two kilometers in atmosphere. The weapon was considered a valid threat to Marine Armor if you fired enough rounds at it. Of course, the standard Marine armor could use microwave countermeasures to detonate the round before it got too close…but with a few dozen flying at you, they got through. Hall held up the heavy rifle and examined it. It was a bolter…much like the crossbow was a simple weapon that could kill a knight in medieval Europe, a gyroc could hit a marine hard.

"Nasty…very nasty." Hall said.

"Oh yeah, best for last sarge." Yin said and held up the final weapon in his tendrils, Hall's eyes opening in shock.

"That's a lasgun." He said unnecessarily, looking at the matte black casing around the weapon. According to his suit AI, the weapon was a IDA Laser Rifle, Mk. IV. The weapon was one of the more common laser weapon designs that was mass produced in Alliance Space, although it was strictly regulated. It was legally only available for private military contractors, major security firms and law enforcement agencies. The lasgun could pinch through most civilian body armor and in volume knock a hole in most vehicle armor plating. Hall held up the weapon, turning it over in his gauntlets.

"How the hell did they get all this?" Yin asked, looking at the weapons that had been hidden in storage crates. Hall shook his head, knowing that the Security Service would be going nuts over this find, and the Citadel crew would be interrogated at length…and Hall had no doubts it would be an unpleasant experience.


Arcturus Station, Systems Alliance Security Service HQ, July 15th 2163

The information was not good, but no one had expected things to go well…or quietly. Six years of relative peace had been quiet on the surface, but the Citadel Council viewed the Systems Alliance as something other than a friend or even a neutral. Rival would be the best term to use…enemy would be a better one. Six years had given the Alliance Security Service countless threats to deal with. Some of them had been overt, others had been subtle. With the war with the Turians in the background, there had been numerous 'nationalist' movements whose fires had always smoldered since their joining of the Alliance. Most of them were little more than extremist organizations and racist fanatics who put out propaganda and attempted to make terrorist attacks. Since the end of the war with the Citadel, numerous shipments of weapons and equipment and been discretely supplied to them. Almost all of them had been military grade firearms shipped from manufacturers in Citadel space. Some of the weapons had come from Batarian groups…others…they had seemed to have simply materialized at the Alliance/Citadel border in cargo vessels that had never existed before that moment. The Security Service had little luck backtracking those shipments, but they had begun to increase the instances of terrorism and mass violence in the Alliance, something that did not please the Alliance's political leadership one bit.

Along with that, there were the thefts and incidents of smuggling. Normally they occurred in any society…but some of the break ins over the past six years had been immaculate in their preparation and planning. From covert entries into Sony and Microsoft, to massive raid assaults on IBM and USR facilities, the number of high profile crimes that had been carried out against Alliance Tech firms had increased substantially. Many of the criminals who'd carried out the attacks and thefts had been captured, but all of them had spoken of someone else choreographing their operations, coming in with the plans and assembling teams to carry out the break-ins. Interrogators had always pegged them as being humans…human women, who always kept themselves hidden for the most part. Others talked about instructions received over the 'net, funds sent by numbered accounts. All of it was subtle, and all of it seemed to be set up to keep a barrier between who wanted to learn things and who wanted to stay covert.

Overall no one could link together any of the incidents cohesively, except that the thefts and break-ins had all seemed to be geared towards gathering advanced technology. It wasn't something that could hold up in a court of law, but the investigators who'd looked at the reports had all agreed that the Citadel had to be behind them, simply because all of the events benefited the Citadel and hurt the Alliance. As to who was carrying out the incidents…most of those investigators were up in the air about that. Most fingers pointed to either the Salarian STG or the more infamous group who was directly in the employ of the Council itself….their Spectres.

To the Security Service, the Council Spectres seemed to be some kind of uber-spies who could move through the galaxy with unlimited authority, doing as they wished to ensure the 'stability of the galaxy'. According to the Citadel's own information on them, they were the most trusted and respected individuals in the Citadel, the Right Hand of the Council, beings tasked and trusted with power that was unrivaled…beings who were beyond the law in every way…at least within Council space. The Systems Alliance had made it clear that Council Spectres would be regarded as spies and subject to imprisonment or execution if they were found in Alliance Territory. The Citadel Council had protested, but they couldn't enforce a Treaty that the Alliance Parliament refused to acknowledge. So the Alliance Security Service had considered Spectres to be the top of their list of potential external threats…primarily because of one reason and one reason alone.

Spectres had unlimited authority, but their objectives and goals were primarily dictated by their own interpretation of what a 'threat to galactic stability' was. Spectres could do as they wished for the most part…and that meant that personal vendettas and grudges bled over into the professional world. That was something that the Alliance viewed nervously, because Council Spectres were made up of the Council species, it wasn't hard to think that there were some who used their position to further their own goals, or carry out vendettas against the Alliance. The Council had made it clear that they didn't condone any kinds of activities which harmed the Systems Alliance, it wasn't hard to think that if they happened to come upon some Alliance Technology from one of their operatives…they might be handing out a medal and not a reprimand.

The Security Service had spent the past six years working in concert with the Intelligence Service to come up with a plan to deal with the Council Spectres and keep track of the dangerous operatives. Because of the jurisdiction issues, the Security Service was a 'domestic' agency, tasked with protecting Alliance citizens on Alliance planets and on any spacecraft or station within the borders of the Alliance, while the Intelligence Service dealt with any activities that were beyond the Alliance's borders. This meant that counter intelligence was a matter for the Security Service, but spying was for the Intelligence Service. Council Spectres made those clear cult lines of jurisdiction hazy, like any organization before them, dealing with Spectres who would probably be first and foremost spies within the Alliance, the Security Service needed information on them, information that had to come from the Intelligence Service's 'operatives' and 'activities'.

Polite euphemisms for spies and espionage.

Between the two organizations, they suspected no less than twenty Spectres were operating covertly within Alliance Space, though their activities were unknown and the ability of the Security Service to make arrests was limited. The Intelligence Service had been compiling dossiers on known and suspected Spectres, spies on the Citadel making note of the public 'Initiations' in the Citadel Tower, while other Intelligence operatives went through everything from Citadel Pay scales, to Citadel News Interviews with candidates.

For now however, the orders of the 'Ghost Taskforce' (as the Spectre Tracking program had been dubbed) had simply been to track and observe possible Spectres. No orders had yet come down for them to attempt to apprehend one of the Council's elite operatives. Most of the select few who were a part of the taskforce knew that any kind of apprehension would more than likely be undertaken by local law enforcement, or possibly planetary security forces. In the most dangerous of situations, Alliance Marines would be used to eliminate a target…domestically. Externally however, the Intelligence Service was more than willing to cause 'accidents' to any Spectre who warranted such an incident.

In theory. But like life, theory and reality were extremely separate things. Spectres were good, exceptionally good. None of them had ever left anything close to a trace within Alliance Space, and many of the suspected operatives working in Alliance space would never do anything suspicious. Most would vanish, an 'event' would occur in Alliance Space, and then they would re-appear.

Six years of watching had rankled many in the taskforce, most of them examining the disparate and vague information that they had pieced together, looking at files pointing to who might have decided to carry out a robbery or an info-mine raid on a database, trying to figure out possible ways to counter the Spectre who might have undertaken a possible crime. They all knew that the only way they could counter the Spectres, and by extension the Citadels attempts at stealing Alliance Technology and destabilizing the Alliance would be to deal with the Spectre threat. Something that was easier said than done, and the subject of every planning meeting from first to most recent. Some wondered about the political motivations behind the passive actions that had been the default of Alliance Policy towards the Council. Most understood objectively why the Alliance didn't make more pointed actions against the Council's meddling…

Although, fostering rebellions, stealing technology, attempting to contact genocidal species, and making themselves generally poor neighbors, whether the Systems Alliance Security Service could prove it before a judge or not, the Council's lackeys were making trouble.


Salarian STG Planning Meeting, Undisclosed Location within Citadel Space, August 21st 2163

"Outcomes are unpredictable. Our actions are not having desired results." One of the shadowed officers said, sitting around a simple table strewn with data-pads and flim- sheets, Salarian hands running over documents and holding information.

"Desired results are separate from intended outcomes. Alliance is unpredictable, they seem willing to accept civil unrest and disturbances. Protests, demonstrations, dissent, all are…acceptable to them, even desired." Another said, gesturing to a list of scrolling numbers.

"Desired? Nonsense! What government wants such diverse and angry dialogue among it's people?" The third asked. The first shrugged slightly in his half-lit chair.

"Most information describes it as being…normal. Such as it is, the Aslan, Vargr and Human political systems are highly acrimonious and standoffish. But the reactions are tempered somewhat by a history of such things." The First explained.

"That is…unfortunate. Forcing the species apart will not be easy, will it?" The Second asked.

"No, it will not." First responded.

"What of the attempt to investigate the…Reticulan Quarantine Zone?" Third asked, his head bowed and looking at a data slate.

"Ineffectual. Our probe was lost completely and captured by the Garrison forces. Must rely on Alliance information about Reticulan Threat for the moment." Second answered.

"Rely on Alliance data? Preposterous, more than likely it is propaganda designed to hide the truth." Third snapped.

"If it were, the Humans made a case for the lie over a century prior, and have tied up substantial resources continuing a lie. It is illogical." First said quietly, and Third sighed.

"That seems to describe these creatures quite succinctly." Third said with a grumble.

"Such as it is, our attempts to find a way to manipulate their systems are not progressing as we had hoped." Second said.

"No, they are not. What of the large numbers of reported thefts of technology taking place within their territory?" First asked.

"Unknown, many of the raids have the hallmarks of special operations units." Second said.

"Yes…that is…curious. The STG has not undertaken any kind of overt actions, but then such attacks lack a subtlety that is desired." First said looking at the shadowed forms of the other two officers sitting there. All three knew that the Special Tasks Group was formed up so that no one cell knew too much about any operations that were ongoing. IT was good for security, but certain orders did get filtered down to all groups, and for now, the STG was to avoid drawing attention or ire from the Alliance. That made things difficult when they were simultaneously given the order to probe the political and social systems in the Alliance. The STG was supposed to find possible ways to 'compel' the Alliance member races to fracture from their central government. A request from the Citadel Council that hadn't been well received by the STG. They knew the inherent risks to that kind of activity, and the Alliance had shown themselves to be extremely capable militarily, capable enough to hammer the Turian Hierarchy's forces back…and the threat of the Turian Hierarchy coming in on the side of the Union had been a reality for a long time.

But now the STG had been instructed to undertake possibly grave actions against a Galactic Power that had swept aside the Turian Hierarchy in what could have escalated to a full scale war. Not for the first time, all three members at the table thought heavily on what might happen if the Systems Alliance discovered it…and decided to do something about it. All three wished the same thing more or less…that the Spectre who had delivered the Council's instructions hadn't chosen them…youngest Turian Spectre ever inducted or not, favorite operative of the council or not…that Arterius had made every one of them wish that he had never crossed their paths.


Arcturus Station, September 15th, 2163

"Madame President, I'm sorry to say that we cannot prove any of the allegations that have been put forward by the Ghost Taskforce. There isn't any evidence that we can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that Council Spectres are involved in any of the incidents that we've been experiencing. But the sheer lack of a trail into Council Space, even when all signs point in that direction make it seem abundantly clear that person or persons unknown are orchestrating these activities." Director Tanner said calmly, sitting across from the President. Trindle sighed and looked at the data once more, the entire thinking on the issue was that if someone is being too quiet, they were up to something…and when it came to Interstellar Statecraft, it tended to hold true. The Citadel Council was being openly dismissive of the Alliance, and it's operatives had been going to exhaustive lengths to try and keep away from Alliance Territory.

But the data was clear, numerous tech break-ins, political incidents and terrorism incidents had all taken place with each group of suspects stating that their 'backer' or 'sponsor' had been from Citadel Space, sometimes it was a female, most likely Asari…but in a few incidents, the suspects had pointed the finger squarely at what they swore was a Turian. But other than knowing that, there was little to go on. No names, only theories from the Ghost Taskforce's members that when laid out seemed to theorize that just about any of the Council's Spectres could be 'the one'. Trindle sighed softly, she had known that the icy political situation with the Council wouldn't be easily improved…from the Alliance's adamant refusal to share technology with the Council that could 'threaten Alliance Security' to the rapid growth of Alliance commercial ventures into Citadel space…even the growth and rebuilding of the Alliance Navy, Army and Marines in the wake of the short and sharp conflicts on Shanxi and Macedyn, it had all combined to make the Council feel threatened.

More than once the Council had stated it was 'strongly considering' economic sanctions against the Alliance and a possible trade embargo…but unfortunately for them, in six years, the corporate interests of the Alliance had aggressively worked to capture market-share in Council Space. Despite the refusal and borderline corporate warfare that the resident conglomerates had held…the Alliance had grown strong enough that an Embargo would be felt more by the Citadel than by the Alliance. Trindle took refuge in that with a perverse sense of pride, politically the Council was icy…but their credits were good for Alliance Corporations and businesses. Other political issues had raged over everything from Genetic Engineering to Synthetic Sentience and everything in between. There was no doubt that becoming a 'member race' within the Citadel would be an almost impossible objective for the Alliance, subverting all Alliance citizens to an external…dictatorship…wasn't even legal according to the Alliance Constitution. But the resistance to that step was so strong from every facet of society in the Alliance that Trindle knew if she even suggested such an insane course of action she would be impeached…and probably put on trial for treason.

Trindle also knew that despite the cold distance the Citadel maintained, they were hungry for Alliance technology. The Council was entirely reliant on Prothean technology, their own advancement had remained more or less stagnant for millennia…while Alliance growth through it's member species had made it into a vibrant and dynamic economy with population growth that probably dwarfed the Citadel's species by several levels. The Council wanted that growth and strength…but they didn't want the political issues that came with it. There was only one concession that could possibly make the Alliance consider joining the Citadel…but to make them members f the Council would be unconscionable. Trindle had seen the reports about just why the Council would reject Alliance membership…fear…fear that their nice little oligarchy would crumble if faced with a government made up of multiple species who were equal and all on the same level.

They wanted it to be broken up and to have the Alliance members turn on each-other, attempts had been made by several 'unknown persons' to provoke political clashes. Even the possible attempt at causing an incident with the Reticulans…Trindle considered that one an act of war, but without proof, simply declaring war on the Citadel would be ludicrous. Whether that war could be won or not was a difficult matter of debate for the High Command as well.

"We've been too passive." Trindle said calmly, considering her options. She knew the state of the galaxy without having to check her data or have a Special National Intelligence brief done, without a doubt, the Citadel had the political initiative and Trindle wanted that taken back. With a slight nod to herself she knew just what buttons would need to be pushed to make the Council step back…and she ticked off their names in her head.

Batarians.

Quarians.

Krogan.

Geth.

Four species who had drawn the Council's ire in one way or another, four species who the Council considered to be 'dealt with'. The Council had decided that the Alliance policy towards Reticulans was inappropriate, and the political system in the Alliance was wrong. Trindle smiled at the thought of just how easily it would be to shake the Citadel's nice and set idea of the Galaxy…and to remind them that you didn't need to use subterfuge to do what needed to be done. Sometimes you could do it in the light of day with the Galaxy watching.


A/N:

Well, folks, two more chapters and the epilogue to go for this story, and I would like to officially sound out all of you for your input on an important matter. I'll be introducing our Hero later on, and I would very much like to know just what the consensus or thinking on how Shepard will be portrayed. Specifically, Cannon appearance, or custom appearance. I will be making Shepard Male, and I will be creating my own degree of Bad-ass for him…but I just want to know whether having a Cannon (generally generic handsome/tough-guy with a shaved head and stubble) face is preferred over…well…my own original Shepard's look.

I'm leaning heavily towards my own Shepard, but…this story has become very popular, the most popular one I've ever written, so I would prefer to differ to the fans of my work and give you something that we can all agree on.

So, let me know what you're all thinking.