The diversion of imperial resources to securing the Empire's borders meant with it a proportionate reduction of imperial patrols beyond those borders, a reduction that allowed for an upsurge of pirate activity preying upon worlds not of the Terran Empire but which had previously depended, if only implicitly, on the security umbrella it provided. The worlds in question were obviously displeased with being so exposed, but as the imperial government pointed out, no formal agreement bound the Empire to actually keep such worlds safe, especially if they were not inclined to accede to imperial authority. There were, as always, some exceptions to this rule, a few colonies that did possess formal agreements with the Empire. Even these worlds however saw some decrease in the support being provided. The time between visiting patrols lengthened, the sizes of such patrols decreased, all these culminated in a sense of being abandoned by the fringe worlds, further increasing animosity against the Empire amongst these worlds' populaces.

Several events would however prevent an outright rupture in relations between the Empire and these border worlds. As the threat of further geth attacks lessened, the Empire released more resources to once more act as a deterrent against pirate incursions around its borders. Other, more direct acts involved fleet and ground actions that worked to evict those pirate and slaver factions that tried to put down roots closer to imperial space in the wake of the Empire's temporary withdrawal. The first of these actions was initiated by Major Evangeline Shepard, when she arrived at the Horizon colony in time to thwart a slaver attack upon that world and ultimately culminated in the destruction of the pirate and smuggling network commanded by one Tonn Actus.

-Forward Unto Twilight: The Terran Empire

Chapter 27

Gloria filiorum patres

Very few things gave Garrus pause after making a decision, especially when the turian felt it to be the right one. Even the disagreement of his superiors, no matter how much he might respect them, could sway the resolution with which Garrus carried forth, practical impediments like direct orders aside. Not surprisingly, family was the exception to that rule, and it was with remarkable ease that Garrus' little sister Solana could get her brother to play to her tune. Garrus' mother was more subtle in how she managed her son, needing only a word or two to convey her desires. A day had yet to come when Garrus was prepared to disappoint her.

It was Garrus' father, Castis, that the turian was about to do just that to, however. Castis, the rigid taskmaster and disciplinarian whose exacting standards had molded Garrus throughout his life, no matter how much the son chafed under the father's will. Where Garrus might regret disappointing his mother, he feared disappointing his father. That was as true today as when he was a child. But now Garrus was prepared to face that fear, and to overcome it.

Despite officially having retired to look after his ailing wife, Castis remained highly respected by C-SEC and was kept on retainer as a consultant. With that part-time position came an office, and whenever Castis was not at the hospital he tended to be holed up in there, working away at whatever C-SEC needed help with to distract himself from his wife's deterioration. Garrus was not sure if that was the most healthy diversion his father could find, but he would leave that battle to Solana. With a deep breath, he pressed the buzzer to announce his presence.

"Enter," Castis' voice called out.

Bracing himself, Garrus walked through the opening door and came to a halt before his father's desk.

"Dad."

Castis looked up, easily picking up his son's nervousness, and determination.

"Garrus," he responded simply, but said nothing more to give his son the chance to get whatever he wanted out first.

Garrus tried not to flinch. It was not easy and the effort made him far stiffer than he would have liked. Nonetheless he forced himself to speak once more.

"I've accepted an invitation to be evaluated for the Council's Spectres," he said.

Castis blinked, taken aback slightly on several accounts. That his son would speak so plainly on such a matter without further preamble, that Garrus had accepted the invitation at all, and that he was now in Castis' office announcing it so suddenly.

"I see," Castis said, his mind racing despite the calm veneer he projected.

In truth this was not the first time such a matter had been raised. In Garrus' younger days, his aptitude had drawn the attention of the Council's recruiters and suggestions were made that he could be evaluated for entry into the Spectres. Castis had squashed such notions hard, using his influence both as a father and as one of C-SEC's most respected officers. As he had explained to Garrus back then, the Spectres were not role models of any sort, and their flagrant disregard for law and protocol could only led to mess ends. Garrus had accepted that judgment back then, but it was clear that he no longer did now. It was a day that Castis had long dreaded might come, and it filled him with no small regret that his son would turn out like this.

Before Castis could respond further however Garrus shook his head.

"No, I don't think you see, Dad," the turian said. "You've probably already jumped to the conclusion that I'm doing this because I'm sick and tired of C-SEC's red tape. Well, I am sick of it, but I'm not going to become a Spectre because that would let me ignore the rules."

That was the second surprise today for Castis. That Garrus resented some of C-SEC's protocols was something none of Castis' admonishments had managed to change, and in his more fearful moments the older turian was very concerned with what sort of path his son might take if his resentment turned into outright disregard. He had thought that day had come with Garrus' announcement. His son was however claiming otherwise. As Castis tried to muster a response, Garrus took the opportunity to further elucidate.

"You've heard me complain about C-SEC protocol all the time before, Dad," Garrus continued. "About how it just gets in the way of me making the collar. You kept telling me that the rules are there for a reason, but I never cared. I didn't care because I couldn't see past my own investigations, I couldn't see the consequences beyond catching the crook. I couldn't see the cost that comes from breaking the rules, the cost to not only the victims, but to me."

Castis' eyes widened slightly. He was impressed, genuinely impressed, with what Garrus was saying now. After all those years of trying to instill that very lesson in his son, it finally seemed to be taking. Or perhaps, someone had finally managed to teach his son this truth. Someone not him.

"What, brought about this change of heart?" Castis asked.

A wry smile crossed Garrus' face. "You know I've been traveling around with the humans as part of the Eden Prime investigation."

Castis nodded, indicating to Garrus his son need not explain in further detail about the investigation itself. Considering the sensitivity of the matter, Castis understood need to know all too well.

"Well, the commanding officer of that mission," Garrus continued, "Major Shepard, she's…"

The younger turian actually paused a moment as he searched for the words that would befit her.

"She's what you've always told me to aspire to be," Garrus finally said. "She's strong, she's loyal, she's, she's not broken."

At that last bit Castis could only give his son a confused look. At Garrus' grimace the younger turian likely recognized how odd that sounded, so he tried again.

"The missions that Cadre get handed, they're tough," he said. "But Shepard still gets the job done. And she does it without ever looking for shortcuts, or making compromises, or any of that. When she does something, she does it because she knows it to be right, not because it's easy or quick. In some ways she can do that because she's just that good. But honestly? I don't think it'd matter either way. Even if doing the right thing was impossible, I think she would still try, because she knows the right things are the ones worth doing."

Castis considered his sons words carefully. It was clear Garrus might have an overly idealized view of this Shepard, but it was equally clear this human woman had made a major impression on his son. It was not necessarily a bad impression either. It still did not explain, fully at least, Garrus' decision.

"So why become a Spectre?" Castis asked.

"Because we need more Spectres, that respect the rules they're supposed to be able to ignore."

That elicited a thoughtful expression on Castis' face. The older turian was beginning to see what his son was getting at, even if he was not entirely convinced. Then again, how much was that him not quite being ready to acknowledge his son's sudden growth? Just a few months back he could not have imagined Garrus saying any of this.

"You believe you could be such a Spectre," Castis said.

Garrus snorted, the first sign that the tension he felt was finally breaking.

"Look, Dad, I'm not an idiot. I know why the Council has the Spectres, why they tend to recruit from the STG or Blackwatch or look for people that are more, independent minded, or whatever. I also know why the Council has the reporting structure set up the way it is for the Spectres. It's as much about plausible deniability, offloading responsibility, as it is about operational independence. Well, I got a chance to watch someone that has probably as much operational independence but is still held to full account. There's no reason I can't do the right thing as a Spectre, whatever the Council's desire for expedient, deniable solutions are. And every case that I can crack the right way, is one less case that can be shuffled off into the dark and made to disappear."

It was ambitious, and more than a little audacious. And yet Castis could not help but feel at how Garrus intended to assume this burden. A little worried, but that was inevitable as a father.

"I had a chat with an old friend right after you harried away on that frigate," Castis said after a few moments. "You never met him, you and your mother and Sol were still on Palaven at the time, but Alec Ryder is also a, Cadre, like that Shepard of yours. I wanted to know what kind of soldier my son would be serving with. And Alec, he was someone whose judgment I trusted."

This time it was Garrus' turn to remain silent and simply listen.

"Alec had quite a bit to say about Shepard. Apparently he and his wife mentored her when she was a child. You could say they even watched her grow up. His words certainly sounded like that of a father, at least. And while he isn't as, awed, of Shepard as you sounded," Castis actually smirked at the slightly embarrassed shade his son now put on, "he was certain of her judgment and character. Someone that would obey orders, follow the rules, and do right by her duty, and by her self."

Without speaking a word Garrus' expression made clear he was in firm agreement with that.

"I can't say whether your decision is the right one or the wrong one here," Castis continued. "And I certainly can't say if the impact of this, Major Shepard, is for the better. What is clear however is that you are trying to do right, actual right. So." Father and son held each other's gazes unflinchingly. "Go, do right. And make us proud."


The bar was still mostly empty when Shepard entered, making it easy to spot where Emily was seated. The enthused wave from the reporter certainly did not hurt in that regard either. When Shepard slid into the booth Emily pushed towards her a Caesar cocktail, celery and all poking out.

"Your favorite, if I recall," Emily said with a smile.

"Might as well start light before we get to the hard stuff," Shepard said, raising her glass. "To generous friends."

"And mouthy ones," Emily returned the toast.

"Hah, is that how you see me?" Shepard said with a smirk.

"Better that than having loose lips," the reporter responded.

"Fair enough." Shepard took a sip of her drink. "So, business or pleasure first?"

"Let's get business out of the way," Emily said, her demeanor noticeably turning more serious. "Bravo tango alpha niner six five eight zulu foxtrot four."

The sequence of letters and numbers quickly triggered the requisite filter in Shepard's connection to the imperial data net, activating an authentication query in the process.

Shepard, Evangeline, authentication 1237-Zulu-Foxtrot-Bravo.

The mental command successfully completed the handshake and the data payload unpacked, providing Shepard with a briefing. The grimace from Shepard's expression was a pretty good indicator of the tone the information set.

"One of these days, I'm going to get you drunk enough that you explain all the faces you make," Emily joked.

As the mere courier, Emily had no idea what information lay behind the keywords she delivered. Playing messenger girl however provided her with access to certain personages that might otherwise be out of her reach as a reporter. She was not exactly in the employment of the imperial government, but neither was she entirely independent. It was one of those mutual backscratchings that both sides benefited from, when the official channels were too clogged or watched to suffice.

Shepard chuckled. "Think I might bankrupt your employer before that happens." She took another snip. "So, that's that. I presume you have some questions for me that I'll actually be able to answer?"

The reporter nodded. "The Eden Prime investigation. I know from my other sources that you've been charged with investigating it."

"One of," Shepard corrected. "I'm certainly not the only person working on figuring out what's behind the attack and how to stop them."

"But you're the one that's actively working with representatives from the Citadel Council on it," Emily persisted. "And you were also present at Feros and Noveria when those places got attacked."

An eyebrow arched upward on Shepard's face as she listened to Emily rattle of those tidbits. Whomever were the reporter's other sources, they did seem the talkative sort.

"Fair enough," Shepard said. "But one correction, I was actively working with representatives from the Council. Those representatives have however been recalled."

"Oh, that's a new tidbit," Emily said. "I don't suppose you could tell me why?"

"The investigation has moved onto a new phase," Shepard chose her words very carefully, "and so the types of resources necessary have also changed. At the same time, I also have other duties to attend to as a Cadre, and the leads that have been developed as a result of Feros and Noveria are being pursued by other elements."

Any good reporter could read between the lines, recognizing the unstated truths behind more bland assertions. A great reporter however knew not to overstate what he or she heard, and Emily's ability to distinguish between fact and imagination placed her amongst the very best of her generation.

"Would these leads be in finding the base from which the attacks are launched, or to the parties that might be supporting them?" Emily thus probed further.

"The parties responsible are the geth," Shepard answered.

"That doesn't actually answer my question," Emily pointed out.

Shepard snorted. "Maybe not, but that's the only answer I can give."

The reporter shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright, in that case, is this new phase a more proactive one than responding to attacks and looking for clues in the aftermath?"

"It is," Shepard stated openly. "Assuming things go to plan, we should be able to neutralize the core threat soon, after which it should just be a matter of cleaning up any straggling geth forces."

"And how would you rate those chances?" Emily asked.

"Not as good as if I were there, better than if it was just the regular army or navy handling it."

Emily gave a bemused snort at that. While the major might have a very high opinion of her abilities, that opinion was not entirely unfounded. And as metrics went, it was actually more informative than one might presume at first glance. The Cadre were after all considered the Empire's elite, but they were not the only such force in the galaxy. What the major was insinuating was that her counterparts in the service of the other polities were also being deployed in response to the geth threat. But by virtue of their fewer numbers, even the best of the best might require a helping hand, hence the qualifier about how much her own continued involvement might increase the chances of success.

"So this means that the other races share the Empire's concerns about the geth threat?" Emily asked.

"The geth have already attacked a non-human world," Shepard said. "And while Noveria might not be in Council space, it is still affiliated in its own way. I expect it is only a matter of time when an actual Council world faces the same sort of threat, a concern that I suspect the Council also shares. This being the case, it is not unexpected that they would deploy resources from their member races to face this problem."

"But this far all of the major engagements have been shouldered by the Empire's forces," Emily pointed out.

"True enough, but that had more to do with positioning than anything else. Eden Prime and Feros were attacks on human worlds, so naturally it would be imperial forces responding. Noveria, frankly we just got lucky. One of Eighth Fleet's battle squadrons was transiting home from its participation of the Feros operation and was close enough to respond to the mayday that was sent out. Had that not been the case, Noveria would have had a very different outcome."

"And we might not be here having this conversation," Emily said softly.

Shepard smiled slightly at the reporter's concern. "I'm a tough woman, Emily. I'd have figured something out."

Emily returned a wryer smile. "I'm sure you would have. Ahem, anyway, last question." The woman's eyes turned deadly serious. "There have been increasing rumors that the attacks launched against the Empire, while conducted by the geth, were in fact instigated by dissident elements amongst the Council races, hence the tepid cooperation offered by the Council."

The major kept her expression impassively stoic as Emily paused, the reporter obviously hoping to catch some sort of reaction that might give a hint as to the validity of those rumors. When she found none, she plowed ahead nonetheless.

"Is there any truth to these rumors?" she asked.

"The degree to which the Council has been assisting in the investigations of the attacks has certainly been less than the government or military would like," Shepard began her answer. "The active cooperation that we have received with the people operating at the ground-level in this investigation however has been of the highest caliber. Indeed Citadel Security's leadership has also been extremely helpful in coordinating joint efforts, dispatching one of their finest investigative officers to help complement our efforts. And I even had the pleasure to work with one of the Council's finest direct agents recently. The friction that does exist is certainly not because the Council or the governments they represent are trying to shield anyone on their side. It is arguably down to a difference in relative priorities. But as much as I might disagree with how the Council's other priorities are complicating collaborative efforts, I do not for a moment doubt the dedication and determination of all agents of the Council that I have worked with thus far in finding and bringing to heel those parties responsible for killing so many of my fellow humans."

That was certainly the longest answer Shepard had given thus far, but there was a lot that she needed to convey in a roundabout fashion. Strip out all the qualifiers and polite language, and the major's message was clear enough. The Council was indeed stonewalling, at least to some extent, but all of the people actually assigned to work the case on the Council side and with whom the major had worked with were not letting their superior's intransigence stop them from working with the Empire to do their jobs. And if Emily phrased her eventual report just right, it could help bring further pressure onto the Council to be as cooperative as its subordinate organs were.

All well and good that, but Emily was a sharp enough reporter to notice that again, Shepard had not fully answered her question, specifically about whether there were parties in Council space somehow supporting the geth attacks. That the major did not deny it outright was telling in and of itself, but it was clear that Shepard was not going to give any sort of definitive answer on this topic, even off the record. As frustrating as that might be as a reporter, Emily could respect that the major was still bound by her own rules, her own oaths. Besides which, it was not as if there weren't other topics that she might more fruitfully dig for.

"So these field agents that you mentioned," Emily thus asked. "Would you happen to be able to share a little something about them? After all, this might well be the most important joint operation the Empire has ever conducted with the Council. People are going to want to know who the Council chose to represent them."

"Umm, I'm not sure that's something you'd be able to publish while the investigation is ongoing," Shepard said. "Drawing too much attention to them is liable to interfere with their ability to work."

"Okay, then how about just telling me enough to give me a head start for something I can publish after the investigation is over?" Emily suggested.

"They still might not be terribly enthused to be drawn into the limelight like that," Shepard said. "Then again, that's probably going to be inevitable depending on how the chips fall. Alright, I'll give you some basic info, but the rest you'll have to dig up yourself or convince them to do an interview with you. I'll vouch for you, but if they say now, I'm not going to push it."

"Thanks Jane, that's all I need," Emily said, flashing the brightest and friendliest smile she could muster.

Shepard gave a snort, then held up her emptied glass. Emily gave a chuckle and waved down a waitress to get the major a refill. Only after wetting her throat once more did Shepard resume talking. There was a lot of talking to do after all, considering all the colorful characters amongst Shepard's non-human crew. While Emily was probably more up to speed on the other Citadel races that the average imperial citizen, that hardly made her an expert on all of the associated cultural tidbits. Neither was Shepard for that matter, but by bringing up things like the quarian pilgrimage or krogan clan hierarchy, the major was providing points of reference that Emily could investigate further when writing her big expose. By the time they were done, a waitress had had to clear out all of the empty glasses from Shepard's side of the table twice.

"By the sounds of things, it's a miracle you've managed to keep some of your crew in line," Emily remarked at the end. "I mean, that krogan especially sounds like he has a nasty temper."

"Wrex is actually pretty mellow when not shooting at things," Shepard said. "Granted he's always happy to have an excuse to shoot something, but otherwise the worst he gets up to is daring someone to arm wrestle him or chow down on my coffee supply."

"And you let him get away with that?" Emily teased.

"He gets to take point when we deploy, so some indulgences are warranted."

"From the sound of things he probably enjoys it too much to consider it a punishment," the reporter pointed out.

"True." Shepard considered the point for a few moments. "I think I'll have you sit an interview with him next time we're in port then."

That elicited a hearty laugh from Emily. "I'll be sure not to disappoint."

Shepard flashed a grin of her own before something caught her eye. With a wave, she signaled to the patron that just walked through the door. Glancing over, Emily caught sight of a slightly disheveled man wearing a cargo shifter jumpsuit, followed by a younger blond haired man with a neatly trimmed beard. The latter was suddenly beaming widely at catching sight of Shepard.

"Friends of yours?" Emily asked.

"Well, one of them at least," Shepard responded. "Not sure who the second guy is."

"Guess we'll find out," Emily said as they approached.

"Shepard, guess I wasn't the only one to bring a friend," Ernesto greeted as he slid into the booth next to the major. "And who is this lovely spectacle here?"

"The name's Emily," the reporter introduced herself. "Shepard and I go some ways back, though these days she just mooches off my work expense account for drinks."

The former marine gave a laugh at that. "My condolences then. The major here's managed to outdrink even me, and I'm a recovering alcoholic."

"And since you are recovering, only soda for you tonight," Shepard stated firmly.

"Yes ma'am," Ernesto said, grinning all the while.

Shepard looked over at the other man as he took a seat next to Emily.

"So, you're a friend of Ernesto's?"

"That's right Major Shepard. And wow, I have to say, it's an honor to finally meet you."

Shepard regarded the man, then looked over at Ernesto. The former marine gave a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that, Conrad's been nagging me for a chance to meet with you. Seems to be some big fan of yours."

"Right, sorry, that probably came off weird," Conrad said. "The name's Conrad Verner. I work in the station's engineering section. When Ernesto mentioned he knew you, I just had to meet you. I've always admired the men and women that go out there fighting the good fight, and you, I mean, you're the hero of Torfan."

That elicited a raised eyebrow on the major's part. "That's not usually how that goes."

Indeed, there was a rather wide gap between butcher and hero.

"Pshew, I know how to read the news, Major," Conrad said. "It was pretty clear some people wanted a scapegoat, and you were an easy mark at the time. Especially with how your brother was being feted as the hero of Elysium. Someone in the press probably decided it'd make good copy to have a contrast like that, and the rest of the idiots went along with it once the story grew legs."

Shepard was now regarding Conrad more carefully. The man's enthusiasm was genuine, as far as her sensors could tell. What drove that enthusiasm was not something she could infer however, seeing as those same sensors did not extend to reading a person's mind.

"You seem very well informed about my service history," she said.

"Don't weird her out, Conrad," Ernesto admonished his friend.

"Sorry," Conrad apologized again with a sheepish smile. "It's just, so exciting, what you and the other people in the service do. Flying around, chasing down pirates, defending colonies."

"It's not all fun and games," Shepard said. "People do die doing all those things."

"I know," Conrad said, slightly more subdued. "And it's that kind of sacrifice that lets people like me sleep sound at night. I appreciate that, I really do. That's why I volunteer at the veterans' affairs office. Fact, that's where I met Ernesto."

"Oh really?" Shepard said, grinning as she looked over at the older marine.

"Well, you know," Ernesto said, scratching his head. "Been thinking about what you said. And thought, well, I thought I'd give it a shot."

"I'm glad to hear that," Shepard said.

"Don't worry Major," Conrad put in. "I've been making sure Ernesto here's been on the straight and narrow. And if he ever needs someone to lend an ear, all of us down at the VA office are there for him."

"I know you are," Shepard said, with a tad more respect for the exuberant man.

"Enough about me already," Ernesto said. "Conrad, wasn't there something you wanted to ask Shepard?"

"Oh, right! Umm, so we keep a rotating gallery of photos of servicepeople in the office, both active and retired. I was wondering, would you mind letting me take one for that? I don't think we have one of any Cadre."

Shepard considered the request for a moment or so. There was little harm in agreeing, and the quick background check she had run on Conrad over the course of the conversation checked out. Indeed, Conrad really was just an overenthusiastic military fan. Still, the good of it was he did seem to be genuinely helpful down at the VA office.

"Sure, but on two conditions," Shepard said. "First, I get a copy." The major then pointed at Ernesto. "Second, he's in it too."

"Wha?"

"Sure, no problemo!"

Ernesto gave his friend an incredulous look while Conrad simply grinned at him.

"Well c'mon, let's get this show on the road!"

With a weary sigh Ernesto shifted closer to Shepard.

"There, happy?"

"Almost, we just need a big smile now," Conrad said, with one of his own as an example.

"You're going to make me regret this, aren't you?" Ernesto said even as he complied, or tried to.

"Alright, just hold that pose," Conrad said as he pulled out his camera.

From beside him Emily tried and failed to suppress a snicker as Shepard's hand rose behind Ernesto's head. Even Conrad's grin widened at the sight. It did not take the older marine long to catch on.

"You're doing bunny ears behind my head, aren't you, Shepard?"

"Yep."

The strain disappeared from Ernesto's face and a more genuine one expressed the humor he was trying to stifle. As the photo displayed in the VA office would show, that effort proved futile.


When the Normandy emerged from FTL, alert klaxons immediately began blaring. Shepard was already at her station and so her response came with similar speed.

"Report."

"We're receiving a mayday from the Horizon Colonial Militia," Pressly answered. "The colony is under attack by what looks to be a pirate fleet."

The galactic map was replaced by a projection of the system astrography. Further in-system markers popped up, indicating Horizon's space assets as well as an unidentified contact.

"Sensors make it out to be two ships of cruiser tonnage, four frigates, and a trash hauler," Pressly continued. "Small fleet, but still pretty big by pirate standards."

"That it is," Shepard agreed as she leaned against the console. "Artemis, tactical analysis."

"The opposing frigates are older generation turian warships, the design having left service in the Hierarchy's service a century ago," the AI said. "The cruisers are however current generation designs from Batarian State Arms. The freighter is a standard Elkoss Combine design."

"Of course," Shepard said with an exasperated sigh. "Is cruiser an export variation, or did they not even bother with that much?"

"Emissions are uneven from the pirate ships," Artemis reported. "Whether that is because they are not equipped to spec or because the crews do not know how to fully utilize their systems is unclear."

"That's something I suppose," the major said. "Have they noticed us?"

"No ma'am," Pressly said. "Stealth systems were engaged the moment we emerged from FTL."

Shepard nodded. "And Horizon's ships?"

What little there were of them, as markers appeared on the system map to indicate their positions. The colony had only two old frigates the Empire had decommissioned from service decades ago. Their weapons were still respectable, but their electronics suites were woefully outdated compared to what the Empire had presently deployed. Against the average pirate, that was not really a problem. Against state sponsored 'privateers,' especially those the Batarians supported as part of their proxy war against humanity, things got a bit more dicey.

"Are there any other taskforces in range to respond?" Shepard asked.

"No ma'am," Pressly said gravely.

Shepard regarded the projection thoughtfully. From a pure numbers perspective, ignoring the freighter since that thing had no place in any actual fight, the pirates outnumbered Horizon's defenders three to one. They outmassed those defenders at a significantly higher multiplier, with all the advantages that entailed. Even with the Normandy thrown in, from a purely numerical perspective it was the attackers that held the advantage. Of course, there was the slight problem of the pirates not even knowing Normandy was coming in behind them. That might serve as a sufficient equalizer, depending on how she played her cards.

In truth the prospective confrontation with the pirates did indeed boil down to a numbers game, albeit one far more complicated than just the count of ships or tonnage on each side. The Normandy was small enough that its designers did not attempt to give it a large spinal gun like with larger cruisers or dreadnaughts. Instead the ship mounted a pair of smaller mass accelerator cannons, allowing it to deliver more albeit weaker punches. Against the hulls mounted by similarly sized ships, they were more than enough to punch through after a salvo or three. Against the cruisers, the combination of armor and shields might well allow one to survive even an attack from behind.

The Normandy's designers had not really intended the frigate to go up against cruiser-grade opponents, at least not on a regular basis. It did mount a rack of disrupter torpedoes on each wing, the combination of which could allow it to close in and gut at least one cruiser before running like hell. That still left the second cruiser though, at which point the issue of relative firepower came into play again. Maybe the trio of nukes the Normandy carried could help with that.

"General quarters," Shepard ordered.

"Aye ma'am," Pressly said.

The command deck dimmed considerably, though bits of light still peeked through from the surrounding stations and the emergency kinetic barrier based life-suits the crew wore. Others down below were changing into sealed soft suits and would rotate out with those currently manning the stations to allow them to do the same. Shepard was doing the same, though that did not preclude her from giving further orders.

"Position us behind the enemy, keep a distance of two light-seconds out."

The Normandy curved about at a leisurely pace, able to take its time due to the complete obliviousness of their would-be prey. The frantic radio traffic coming from Horizon made clear the colony's defenders were feeling far less sanguine, but that was to be expected. Besides the two frigates, Horizon had a grand total of one defense satellite in orbit. The design was almost as old as the surplus frigates, and it was noticeably under gunned relative to modern designs. Its biggest weakness was its relative lack of maneuverability however, making it easy prey for any warship with a moderately competent gunnery crew. That was by no means assured with a pirate crew, but the only real difference was how many shots they might need to kill the satellite, and how many misses might end up impacting on the planet the satellite orbited.

"Any ideas on what the militia pair might try, XO?" Shepard asked.

"Not sure what they can do, ma'am," Pressly said. "If the pirate squadron stays concentrated, any attack run they try is going to get them chewed to pieces."

As true as that may be, the commanders of those two frigates would be feeling a lot of pressure, personal and professional, to do something against the pirates headed towards their home. The presence of the larger freighter probably played a major part in that pressure, seeing as it marked these particular raiders as not just pirates, but slavers.

"If these people really are slavers, then this raid is only worthwhile if they can take a lot of prisoners," Shepard said. "That means the strategic objective here is the freighter. Were I in command over there, that'd be my target. Take out the freighter, you take out any ground troops it might be bringing, and deny the slavers the ability to lift off with a large number of captives."

"Would be tricky, skipper," Pressly said. "The pirates have to know that too, they're not going to let any of the frigates get close to take a shot."

"They'll certainly try," Shepard said. "Their formation's a bit looser than it ought to be if they're serious about screening the freighter though."

Not too surprising seeing as they were pirates, not a trained and disciplined naval taskforce.

"Looks like the two militia frigates are rendezvousing," Pressly said.

Indeed the projection showed the two warships closing in on one another. That made a degree of sense. While staying separate might have allowed them to attack from multiple directions, the force disparity was simply too great to try any sort of encirclement. Together however, they might be able to get close enough to get a few shots through. What happened afterwards was a different matter entirely, at least under conventional circumstances.

"Maintain position relative to the pirates," Shepard ordered. "Lock in targeting now. Priority is cruisers designate bogey one and bogey two. Bogey one is to be engaged with cannons and two tactical nukes. Bogey two is to be hit with both racks of disrupter torpedoes. Attack run is to be conducted along an oblique vector, max thrust."

"Payload targeting locked in, course confirmed," Pressly said. "At your word, skipper."

Shepard nodded. "And now, we wait."

Pressly glanced back at his commanding officer. "Ma'am?"

"The moment we open begin our attack run we'll expose our position," Shepard said. "I want the pirates as distracted as possible when that happens, so they won't have a chance to react."

The navigator nodded slowly. "And if we time our attack with that of the militia, their attention will be focused in the wrong direction. Too bad we can't communicate with them to coordinate."

"Too bad indeed," Shepard said softly.

It was more than just the matter of practical convenience, Shepard was in effect using the militia ships as bait without their awareness. While it was entirely possible, even probable, that they would have agreed to such a role had they been aware of the major's intention, that Shepard was making the presumption without their consent was not something that would engender much goodwill regardless of how the battle ultimately concluded. All the Normandy could try to do was kill the enemy quickly enough that they got off as few shots as possible at the militia ships. Of course, as the saying went, no plan of battle survived contact with the enemy.

"Status change," Pressly said, even as the projection showed the very thing he was about to report. "Two pirate frigates and bogey one are peeling off." He looked back at Shepard. "They're going after the militia ships."

Shepard bit back a curse. It seemed the pirate commander was not a complete imbecile either, whatever his or her chosen profession. The best way of keeping the freighter intact was to neutralize the only things the pirates knew might be able to harm it, namely the two militia frigates. Even splitting their forces like this, they still outgunned the militia and should be able to neutralize them with without taking too heavy a loss of their own.

At the same time, this did offer some opportunities of her own. The Normandy was now in position behind the main force, ready to open fire. The major quickly updated the targeting queue in light of these developments, as well as a slightly different course to fly upon completion of the attack run. Now all she needed was a window in which to execute her plan, assuming something else did not require yet another change.

The militia frigates were staying together, but they were also disinclined to accept the challenge the pirates were laying down. Instead they continued skirting outside the effective range of the flotilla advancing upon them, even as the entire dance edged deeper into the system closer to Horizon. The pirates remained as overconfident as ever, allowing the distance between their two forces to continue widening. They seemed certain that nothing the militia could do would seriously impede their objectives, and there came a point when the two frigates would have to try something, if only because the pirates would eventually be in position to bombard the colony itself. Fortunately, that point would never arrive.

"Engage."

From the perspective of the pirates, it was as if a ghost ship suddenly appeared behind them and unleashed hellfire. The salvo of disruptor torpedoes, fired at effectively pointblank, slammed into the rear of the cruiser and tore through its engines. The result was, predictably, a horrific chain reaction as the ship's reactor went critical and snapped the ship in two. Bursts of oxygen were quickly consumed in the ephemeral flames that erupted in the ship's death throes, but the Normandy was already moving onto its next victim.

The pair of frigates screening their larger brethren were as unprepared as the destroyed cruiser. Indeed one quickly followed the larger ship to its doom as cannon fire chipped away at the kinetic barriers before shattering them outright. And then nuclear fire kissed its hull as the missile detonated, having slipped past the woefully undermanned and underequipped point defenses. The sudden transfer of thermal energy caused the hull to buckle, then crack. The ship's engines flickered then died as the ship vented atmosphere, along with a few flaying bodies that quickly stilled.

The sudden onslaught had taken the pirates by complete surprise and they rushed to respond, however ineffectual that effort might be. The panic already suffusing them only grew when their sensors reported the hunters that had so badly mauled them, a trio of frigates that had come completely out of nowhere behind them. Only one of those three signatures was real, the others the product of Normandy's considerable electronic warfare suite. The pirates had no way of telling however, and the remaining frigate commander panicked at finding that they were the ones now outnumbered. The survivor tried to make a run for it, which was the exact wrong response to make as it allowed the Normandy to slide right behind and open fire. The engagement was over in a matter of seconds as the hulked wreck continued careening away, carried forth only by the momentum imparted by its engines at the time of its death.

The second pirate group was clearly aware of what had happened to their fellows, even if they did not understand the how. What they did understand however was that their numerical advantage was effectively gone, and that this new force would soon be turning its guns upon them. Even with a cruiser backing them, their confidence in surviving such an engagement could not be high, especially after seeing the other cruiser made such short work of. Morale was in many regards half the battle, and after having what promised to be a milk run against a weakly defended colony turn into a one-sided slaughter, the survivors did not seem eager to join their fellows in martyrdom. They began running, accelerating out of the system while spinning up their FTL drives.

"Should we pursue, Major?" Pressly asked.

"No," Shepard responded. "They're beat, and they know it." She looked over at the freighter frantically trying to avoid the debris now strewn in its path. "Besides, we have our own prize to deal with here."

"Understood ma'am," Pressly said, then. "Ma'am, we're getting a communications request from the Horizon Militia. They wish to speak with the senior commanding officer."

"By all means, put them through," she said. "And keep an eye on our guests. If they try to make a run for it, take out their engines."

"Aye ma'am."

While Pressly went about minding the ship, Shepard turned towards her console's side display. And now for the other job that came with her command.

End of Chapter 27

Ernesto's side thread is progressing nicely. His slow recovery from PTSD has taken some time instead a single pep talk from Shepard getting him to go get help. In my version it was a more gradual process, where Shepard would hang out with him while passing through Arcturus and slowly getting him off the alcohol. The major's patience has now been rewarded with Ernesto going to get treatment, and drawing Conrad Verner into Shepard's circle of acquaintances. So, mission accomplished, with some collateral damage.

This is probably the second chapter where the Normandy has shown off its combat capabilities. Despite being a stealth frigate, it is still a fully equipped warship with all that entails. And with a good commander and crew, she can really dance.

An interesting presumption, that Shepard will die as part of my ME2 arc. Not saying whether that presumption is right or wrong, just an interesting one. Tum te tum te tum.

I've already answered the question about the rachni queen in a previous chapter's author notes.

Humanity's relations with the Council regarding space exploration is, complicated. Broadly speaking the Empire agreed to a moratorium on opening up more relays while negotiations were underway, and it is in some respects the Empire's threat to resume such actions that won them some of their previous concessions. In some ways this is at the root of a lot of turian resentment of the Empire. While the Empire is not part of the Citadel and so technically speaking it does not have to obey Council law, even the Terminus Systems more or less adhere to certain specific guidelines laid down by the Council for fear of military reprisals. The Empire however is too big and powerful to be swayed by that stick, something that the turians are having just a bit of trouble accepting since it always worked in the past. Some of their more open minded leaders are slowly recognizing that the Empire's supposed defiance isn't some sort of existential crisis, but others like Saren and Sparatus never did, hence the political tensions you're seeing.

On the other side, even if the Empire no longer opens up every relay it finds, it is not as if humanity's exploration efforts have stopped. There is a lot of space even just counting the volumes close to relays. The Empire has a much denser concentration of colonies compared to the Systems Alliance, since it has been pursuing a much more systematic policy of overt expansion. But worlds that they don't care about? There is some exchange of survey data on a quid pro quo basis with the other governments, as well as a few formal agreements about freedom of navigation. Basically no blackmailing of other species' colonies by locking them out of travel through your space and whatnot. It's not a perfect system and there have been tensions in the past over worlds multiple races desire, but none of that ever escalated to the point where a shooting war might erupt.

Recall that Cord-Hislop was, in the canon at least, always a front for Cerberus. That diamond logo we see splashed all over Cerberus gear? I believe that is actually the official Cord-Hislop company logo. So it is less a case of the Empire 'letting' Cerberus have so much access to Cord-Hislop as the company is effectively an extension of Cerberus. Not to say the company is not useful in and of itself, it is after all legitimately (mostly) one of the Empire's largest defense contractors and the bulk of the company's employees have no idea of their employer's shadier activities. Plus Cord-Hislop's public assets provide one other avenue for the imperial government to keep tabs on Cerberus activities, under the cover of ONI's counterespionage and internal affairs work.

On the other hand, the Empire's oversight is obviously imperfect and Cerberus manages to pull off a lot of things that the imperial government really would prefer they not do. The amount of resources that Cerberus diverts is not insubstantial, though there is an obvious limit to how much they can take without blowing a massive hole in Cord-Hislop's corporate balance, which is actually a consideration since a bankrupt company is not exactly a very useful front. As to the specific question, well, in the third game Cerberus somehow came up with an entire navy seemingly out of nowhere. Now that doesn't mean the same will happen in my version of the story, but I like to be prepared and lay the groundwork to justify things that I might have happen later on (though even in that case this would only cover the hardware, the trained personnel needed to actually man all those ships is another problem entirely).

Shepard's not on a first name basis with the emperor. I'm using Charles as the author because, with a few exceptions, I try to use first names for most characters in the prose (that and traditionally British royals don't have actual last names in the conventional sense). Throughout the conversation Shepard always refers to him as 'Your Majesty' and Charles similarly refers to Shepard by her rank. What Shepard is however is a fairly high-ranking member of the Cadre, despite 'merely' being a major.

The Cadre is officially only a brigade, meaning its frontline strength is not much more than five thousand, at best. The ranking commanding officer is always a flag officer of some sort and gets moved up the grades based purely on accrued seniority until he or she retires, meaning an especially long serving commander could end up becoming a lieutenant-general or even full general commanding a mere 'brigade.' The brigade itself is composed of two regiments, each commanded by a colonel. There are also usually a group of officers that don't hold direct Cadre commands, usually in the major to colonel range, instead acting as floaters that are sent on independent commands or work on special projects. Alec Ryder is one, working on next-generation AI. Shepard is another, with her command obviously being the Normandy.

What does that mean for Shepard? Well, right now she's the most junior major in the Cadre, but seeing as there are only six or so majors in total, that places her as the 11th highest ranking officer in the entire Cadre. And every formal promotion in the Cadre is handed out directly by the reigning sovereign or a member of the imperial family if the sovereign is somehow indisposed. Combined with the times when Shepard served a rotation in Geneva, she's had plenty of opportunity to interact with Charles and his family. And as her liege, Charles also makes it a point to familiarize himself with all of his directly sworn armsmen. Even so, there still exists a protocol that defines how they interact with one another. Charles may joke with or tease Shepard, and the major may be willing to crack jokes of her own in return, but Charles will always be 'Your Majesty' and similarly Shepard will always be 'Major' or whatever rank she holds. If that ever changes, something needs to have gone very, very wrong, or very, very right.

There is a naval element attached to Cadre that muddles things a bit, but I'll talk about that another time.

Sovereign had been engaged by one of the dreadnaught divisions of the Empire's Third Fleet during the Eden Prime battle. The navy got plenty of telemetry from that, including the fact that the pair of dreadnaughts present were causing strain on Sovereign's shields. They couldn't bring it down, but they were definitely having some effect. It's why every operation afterward where they expect to run into Sovereign they deploy a full battle squadron of four dreadnaughts, at minimum. Feros they sent two battle squadrons, making for eight dreadnaughts. The fact that Sovereign ran at Noveria isn't why they believe they could have taken it, it was just another bit of evidence that added to the body they had already accrued.

John will return to the story if and when the situation warrants it. Otherwise it's not unusual at all for Shepard to not see her brother for months on end. You can presume that they are exchanging letters in the background, just that none have been especially plot relevant thus far.

Not sure what the question about remotely detonating nukes is actually asking about. There is not enough context for me to answer it.

There is no United States in this timeline. The American colonies were integrated as formal provinces with representation in Parliament as they developed and hit various milestones. The consequence of this is of course the overall character of the 'British' Empire has a more American flavor to it simply due to the sheer difference in population between the old United Kingdom versus the colonies.

I honestly don't know what is going on with the site that they're tagging a review as being for a chapter that I haven't even published yet.