Chapter 53 – Knock Knock

A minor commotion belied a major event.

The closer Lifelong Lockup flew to a split-open Pandora, the worse her headaches became. The worse her headaches became, the more she became determined to do something about it. This culminated in Sarah snapping her restraints with the ease of tearing through paper. The shock collar, intended to render its wearer unconscious, accomplished nothing ("It tickled" she would say later). A massive blast of mental energy knocked everyone aboard the prison ship unconscious. Dictating into a recording rod while fighting through headsplitting pain, she tried to leave an explanation.

"I… I can't expect you to believe or trust me" she grimaced. "But I'm going to apologize anyway. These headaches—they're not normal. They come with…with images… The closer we get, the more vivid they are…"

Staggering to the bridge, the Siren channeled the Current with the goal of forcing a specific course. She succeeded before collapsing, setting Lifelong Lockup on a path that would take it into the same glowing tunnel that swallowed Elizabeth Booker.

Nobody knew how much time passed before coming to. However, the sight of an unrestrained Sarah on the bridge naturally caused a good amount of alarm. Armando Bailey, not knowing where his charge disappeared to, frantically commed the bridge to warn them that "the Siren has escaped."

"We noticed" replied a groggy Garrus, upon waking to find Sarah hunched over a bridge control panel. As to where they'd ended up, no one save Sarah had any clue.

"I won't say it's good to be home again—because it's not. Half my brain has been taken over by these memories. It's like trying to hold back a flood with your bare…"

She toppled. The ship jerked forward and nonsensical noise began pouring out of the bridge audio system. If a language could have a sound described as "crystalline" that would be the best means of conveying what everyone heard. Over a minute later, individuals began to recognize a word or two in their own language, but still buried amongst a sea of things making no sense. Patricia Tannis gained understanding first, proclaiming that "We are in the presence of the Eridians—you should all be in awe."

"And what are they saying?" asked Admiral Nimitz peevishly. "All I hear is something that could come out of one of those relaxation holovids."

"We have violated their space… The aggression taken will not be tolerated… The missiles were not successful… They have another like us. They've seen our failures."

"So Booker did end up here" concluded the Admiral. "Can we see them?"

A voice, masculine in tone, filled the heads of all present. Finally, someone from this new place figured out how to communicate in a way that everyone understood.

You are all in grave danger. The Reformers would kill you if they found you.

"That didn't answer the question" protested Garrus. "Where is Captain McKnight?"

None could be sure if the reply was the same…other or if it was a different entity as it seemed the voice shifted ever so slightly.

She was acquitted by a Conclave, but the Reformers refused to abide by the ruling.

"Still not answering the question!"

Admiral Nimitz didn't take kindly to being talked around, not by subordinates, superiors, or unseen aliens.

She is awaiting execution.

"We could try to save her" offered Sarah. "Except, I don't really remember…"

The faction of the Pure Mantle wishes to assist in this effort, but you do not have all the information you need. We require…

The next set of words (or perhaps it was just one word) made no sense to anyone. Except Tannis, of course, who'd deduced the phrase during her research.

"…or else you have no chance."

"The closest understanding of that set of words is 'Selfless Servant of the Mantle'" said Patricia Tannis, looking at everyone else as if they were foolish for not understanding this. She then pointed at Sarah, again implying inferiority on behalf of others for not making the connection.

"So in other words, me." Sarah managed to stand.

"Someone make sure to restrain me when we do ultimately meet her creators" added Garrus casually, as if discussing weather. "Because I'm pretty sure if you don't, I'll either get myself killed or end up committing several murders. Maybe both."

"You wouldn't be able to hurt them" retorted Sarah. "You'd be a fly, at best." She clamped her heads about her head as the headaches surged again.

Her memories have been forcibly altered and suppressed. Her interaction with the Flood controlling intelligence was not helpful in this area as it attempted to retrieve these memories through dangerous methods. If we do not take action soon to let these recollections flow again, she will die and with her your hopes of reclaiming your universe.

"Now hold on a minute" shouted Jackie. "Sure, our galaxies may be toast, but who said anything about the whole universe?"

Your civilization remains unaware of how truly dangerous the Flood is. They will continue assimilating life and technology until there is nothing left.

"So who suppressed her memories?" asked Armando Bailey, ignoring the whimpering Siren at his feet.

The Reform faction. The very same who created [Sarah].

"The Eridians have courteously determined a means to avoid the cumbersome phrase that I translated earlier" said Patricia Tannis haughtily.

"That's great" snapped Garrus, "but what does all this have to do with Sarah's memories and the end of the universe?"

Lifelong Lockup disappeared, and the group found itself in much the same situation as Sally McKnight when she "appeared" before a group of Eridians (not that anyone knew of this congruence). Completely white room, so white nobody could see exactly where floors or ceilings started or ended. No doors were visible.

Instead of telling you, I will show you.

[…]

Two beings stood near a large, translucent tank in which a gigantic lifeform could be vaguely seen.

"What's done is done."

"The Symbiot Lifeforms are all dead, except for those we harvested for our creation, and those insufficiently concentrated to grant access to the Current."

Garrus spoke for everyone, his voice echoing over the apparently-3D "world" they seemed to be watching but unable to interact with.

"Why do these scientist look like turians?"

"I see humans" insisted Allison Nimitz.

"Same here" added Armando Bailey.

Our society and appearance will be shown to you in the manner most consistent with your experiences, to facilitate maximum understanding of events.

"Politely, he or she is telling us we cannot comprehend the true appearance of the Eridians and all their splendor when viewed in their own realm as opposed to our universe, in which case as 'Forerunners' many interacted with them in other parallels" concluded Tannis.

The Tannis is essentially correct.

With that, everyone resumed watching the narrative unfold. What played out also unlocked in Sarah's head, meaning that once she became conscious in the memories, the view switched to first-person from her perspective.

Her eyes opened. She became aware of the fact that she floated in some kind of liquid. Somehow, despite her brain telling her it shouldn't be possible, she breathed the liquid. She saw two creatures standing beyond her tank. She was in some kind of tank.

Her brain recognized her existence. However, other than knowing she was female, she had no idea what her name might be or why she existed.

You are the Selfless Servant of the Mantle. You will receive instructions.

"I am the Selfless Servant of the Mantle" she blurbled to herself, unable to form coherent words while submerged. Whatever surrounded her began to drain away, slowly at first, then faster. Eventually, all the liquid disappeared, a wind blew through her chamber, and she felt no more wetness. The glass of her artificial "womb" retracted into the floor, leaving the Selfless Servant unclothed and standing on her own feet. Of course, the concept of "nudity" did not yet exist for her.

Dried, she found herself forced into some kind of item that covered…oh. Eridian neural loading gave her the concepts of clothing and combat skins. The latter qualified as a type of the former, at least in terms of making one not naked. She was not, however, given information on what reasons humanoid lifeforms might have to be naked. As it stood, only base ideas could be loaded during the growth process without risk of insanity at the speed at which [Sarah] had been created. Thus, the post-decanting memory transfers occurring right now.

The Mantle. I exist to uphold the Mantle. Defend all life, no matter the cost. I, [Sarah], will be the sword and shield of the Mantle.

She then became aware of the concept of death, which she was further assured would not be very likely in her case. Accelerated healing, incredibly strong skeletal structure, resistance to every disease cataloged by the Forebears… She would live essentially as long as her creators required her to, given vague notions of "regeneration" every so often if necessary. Besides, as her armor moved into place, guided by seemingly-invisible forces, she learned of additional protections provided by abilities to manipulate her surroundings without making use of tools or her appendages.

Why am I not like you?

She saw her creators, and they bore little resemblance to her physical form.

"It won't hurt to indulge [Sarah's] curiosity."

She gained knowledge of another race, another species. They were called "humans" and were the most numerous in the many galaxies over which her Forebears held sway. They seemed to live very short lives, hence their extremely rapid reproduction and expansion—in the blink of a Forebear's eye, a human would be born, live a full life, and pass on. Still, she thought her likeness to these short-lived creatures odd.

Instead of having thoughts enter her head, she became aware of sounds following patterns. Seconds later, she gained comprehension. This was "speech," or the communication of information using vocalizations rather than whatever had been placing data in her head previously.

"You must be able to live among the most prolific species in the galaxy" said a Forebear. "Thus, you need to look like them. You may need to call them to your cause of upholding the Mantle—and they respond best to those who are similar."

And yet, parts of me do not match any naturally-occurring color.

What was this new feeling she detected from the speaker?

Amusement. The experience of enjoyment or happiness.

"Your, er, colors were somewhat artistically-chosen. They make you…unique among the humanoids."

Art. The creation of aesthetically-pleasing items.

She didn't understand how she might meet this definition, though she could tell her Forebear conversant thought her to qualify.

For some time afterward, the Selfless Servant of the Mantle continued to receive instructions regarding her purpose, including both a precise definition of the "Mantle of Responsibility" in addition to the necessary "inexact logic" required to deduce whether something not fitting that precise definition word-for-word followed the dictates of the Mantle or not. For example, the consumption of the flesh of other creatures in the universe, even those not meeting any standard of sapience, violated the Mantle as it resulted in the taking of a life even though it could provide nourishment. Those which evolved to conduct this activity, both sapient and not, were not considered to violate the Mantle, which in essence meant only the Forebears held themselves to this standard. However, ending a life of one who attempted to kill others who had done neither it nor others no harm was considered acceptable as a sort of last resort.

Upon reaching the need to remove a being from this plane of existence through termination of its consciousness, she could call upon many means to do so. Within her lived smaller, symbiotic creatures that somehow (this was not explained to her) provided a connection or conduit to abilities to manipulate the physical world. For example, she could exchange thoughts with others possessing similar powers, or simply read the inner thoughts of someone whether they spoke them aloud or not. More active manifestations involved the movement of objects without touching them, or even energy of varying intensities being emitted from the tips of her fingers. Such energy could stun or kill. She could move at extreme speeds, and if this wasn't enough she could muster up immense strength to physically relocate from one spot to another without actually moving. Literally, she could step through space itself, though she never gained any mindfulness of how such things were accomplished. She just knew a fist could crush the trachea of an air-breathing animal, rendering it unconscious and dead soon after without actually grabbing the animal in question.

Further streams honed her capabilities to both protect herself and utilize violence against others (though only in compliance with the Mantle of Responsibility). Fewer and fewer times did [Sarah] find herself waiting, if only for a split second, for the definition of a word or concept to arrive from wherever they originated. She relied more and more on her own accumulated knowledge.

The memories switched away from [Sarah]. Some narration appeared in written form underneath the projection (was it a projection?) at times, as if captioning the goings-on.

"Our creation has learned quickly. The sooner we release her, the sooner we will be able to absolve ourselves of dealing with the minutiae of stopping lifeforms from killing each other or being wiped out by natural phenomena."

Another cautioned against hubris.

"This is not merely our creation, [untranslatable name]. Our work with others like us who pass through the parallels brought us to this moment."

"Indeed they did, [untranslatable title, untranslatable name]. And their monumental arrogance of becoming personally involved with lesser species in their own parallel led to a war!"

"Not to mention the return of what was once banished."

The statement of this new individual caused all involved to fall silent. The Flood, a vengeful product of abusive Precursors, had been mostly destroyed. Or so they thought. Once they, the [Guiding Hand]…

"Ah, so that's what this means!" exclaimed Tannis. "Guiding Hand! Of course… How could I have been so shortsighted?"

The simulation paused automatically as a conversation broke out.

"So 'Eridian' means 'Guiding Hand?'" asked Garrus.

"It appears so" replied Patricia Tannis, for once without any hints of intellectual posturing. Detecting the end of any discussion, the lifelike simulation resumed.

…inadvertently accessed the "space between universe" with an extraordinarily fast relocation drive, their civilization became aware of other parallel existences. Most were almost improbably similar, though a small number, maybe five percent, experienced markedly-different outcomes. Mainly because it appeared the [Guiding Hand] took their designation very literally—becoming intimately involved in the development of the various species under their Mantle of Responsibility.

Over the text scrolled both still shots and moving clips. Sensing confusion among viewers, the voice filled everyone's heads again.

We wish to present ourselves to you in the most easily-accessible means possible. Are there other methods which you prefer?

Detecting no objections, the unseen Eridian left playback on its current settings.

Those who spent great amounts of time within this "space between universes" felt themselves beginning to evolve. The group was treated to presumably-Eridian-influenced events that moved whole solar systems, formed stars from apparent nothingness, and even set up invisible barriers around the edges of galaxies. Such individuals could, to some degree, communicate with those within "normal" space if they so chose.

"Let us hope the Builders of our Ecumene are not so shortsighted."

Snickering broke out among the assembled crew. Never before had any of them gotten the impression Eridians could express emotions—and now, at least in this memory, the alien entity seemed…annoyed. As if a star-spanning empire that proved capable of manipulating events on an intergalactic scale could ever find anything irritating.

"[Untranslatable title], this is why we are Ecumene, and they are Builders, Lifeworkers, and Warrior-Servants" chastised another voice. "Their lives are simple, their instructions are simple. They follow the Mantle, they do not shape it as we do."

"I have an inquiry" interrupted Patricia Tannis. "My research uncovered two types of script utilized by…"

The large writing was indeed for these lower classes—Builders, Lifeworkers, Warrior-Servants, and Citizens. We of the Pure Mantle faction believed that you, the Tannis, possessed sufficient knowledge to be given our message and carry it to your species due to your intellectual diligence.

The voice paused before continuing, almost sheepish in tone.

We among others contended leaving instructions in our own [scripts], regardless of which type we chose, might lead to our warnings being ignored from no one being able to interpret what we left behind.

A visual aid appeared, giving the impression everyone sat in a classroom. A spherical, uni-eyed drone appeared to explain it. The drone's "eye" could be used to project 3D images to enhance verbal descriptions.

With respect, we will attempt to keep these bits of information short, as a full description of the nature and duties of each would consume your entire lifespan.

Ecumene: Those charged with the interpretation and upholding of the Mantle of Responsibility. Closest analogue—religious authorities. Most powerful and highest level of society who utilized solely the denser, smaller script observed by the Tannis entity.

"Reform" Faction – Became disenchanted with the notion of [glorified babysitting] and sought to end perceived unending adherence to an overly-rigid ideology shackling all [Guiding Hands] to eternal caretaking. Suggested the principles of the Mantle could be passed on to other lifeforms created for the express purpose of upholding the dictums.

"Pure" Faction – Believed despite the distaste developing in some quarters regarding the Mantle that it remained the glorious duty of the [Guiding Hands] to remain distant, yet present. Passing only the parts of the Mantle seen as drudgery conjured claims of heresy and failure to abide by the Mantle.

Builders: The most influential of the lower classes. Responsible for technological development, some levels of security not entrusted to the Warrior-Servants, and providing non-binding advice to the Ecumene. Could read and write both forms of script.

Lifeworkers: The peaceful scientists (as opposed to Builders and Warrior-Servants who both wielded technology capable of ending life). One of those you heard from in the early chronicles of [Sarah] was an Ascended-Lifeworker who became an integral advisor to the Ecumene—often referred to as an Ecumene herself. When performing scientific work, wrote with small script. Otherwise used the bigger characters common among the lower classes. Controversially responsible for the creation of many large-scale items of affect which will be detailed later.

Warrior-Servants: By their title, it should be obvious they were considered tools more than individuals. Responsible for defense not handled by the Builder Security caste. Operated technology without understanding it much of the time other than to perform basic maintenance. Even then, supervision by a Builder was generally required.

Citizens: Performed other functions within society aside from those already mentioned. Considered the lowest tier and least likely to Ascend, though it was possible.

Patricia Tannis requested to know why she'd only received, according to Sarah, half the message.

The Reformers interfered with our signal. They do not believe, as we of the Pure Mantle do, that others have a right to self-determine especially in light of our mistakes.

"But I was right!" she crowed. "This entire conflict is essentially a proxy fight between two different Eridian religious factions!"

Correct. The Tannis again demonstrates understanding beyond any other like herself. It has been seen to that this session is committed to memory, so that the intellect of this Tannis may be displayed for all [Guiding Hands] to see.

"Hell of a thing to get caught up in…" added Garrus.

Let us resume the story of [Sarah]. You may feel differently about her actions afterward.

"I doubt it" replied Garrus heatedly. "She killed hundreds of millions of innocents!"

Then let the formerly-secret record inform your views on the subject.

"Isn't this risky?" asked Admiral Nimitz. "While we sit here, the Flood rages and I presume these 'Reformers' aren't sitting still either."

Meaning no insult, but the time you experience is a fraction of a fraction of our smallest common unit of measure. This educational opportunity could stretch to your natural deaths without any significant change between the Reformers and the Pure.

"Uhh, yeah…" Nimitz paused for dramatic effect. "My 'natural death' is going to be a good bit further away than everyone else's."

It would not matter, partial [Siren]. Your extended lifespan is the only benefit you received from our attempts to grant you powers similar to the [Selfless Servant of the Mantle].

"Let me guess, the Reformers messed that up too."

This is not correct. Many of the Builders and Lifeworkers are of the Reform faction, which left those advocating the Pure Mantle with less expertise in various areas. Therefore when we attempted to create you as a [Siren], our efforts were not successful.

"What does 'Siren' mean to you?" She addressed this question both to the unseen alien(s) and Patricia Tannis, who seemed to have grasped some of these foreign terms.

"I believe the best interpretation to be 'Legionnaire Protector,' as the Sirens were multiple in number whereas the Selfless Servant of the Mantle title rested with a single person."

Correct.

Without permitting further questions, Sarah's story resumed.

At some point, her Forebears declared her training and knowledge complete. She was then instructed to perform her duty of upholding the Mantle of Responsibility.

"No rule which tells me that I shall not end the lives of Forebears themselves if they fail to follow their own declared Mantle. Check."

No one perceived her as a threat as she scanned through meticulous records documenting each and every action which based on the reasoning they'd implanted in her qualified as an abuse of the Mantle of Responsibility. These "Reformers" broke their most sacred laws and left her, their own spawn, able to find out.

"Is the Servant learning?" they asked. She responded in the affirmative.

What I am learning about, you may regret letting me see…

[Sarah] found further evidence of plans which, while not directly pushing her toward action, would result in severe consequences should they be carried out (again, as violations of the Mantle). Genetic blueprints for [Legionnaire Protectors], which appeared to be a kind of backup should she fail. She endeavored to find out more about what this "failure" concept was. The more she read, the more failures she found—many experiments conducted by the Lifeworkers did not achieve their stated goals. This occurrence carried monikers like "failure." Thus far, nothing she'd attempted merited such designation.

The largest offense concerned the wanton killing of Symbiot Lifeforms, a type of sub-microscopic being even the Forebears did not fully comprehend. Such tiny creatures lived within practically every lifeform, whether it could Channel the Current as she did or not. Or, rather, used to live. At some point prior to her creation, virtually all concentrations strong enough to Channel were either terminated or harvested for injection into her own body. No part of "defend all life" permitted this sort of behavior. Those responsible had to be punished to prevent them from doing it again.

Other questionable actions revolved around attempting to directly manipulate outcomes among the lesser races and the creation of laboratory-grown slaves to perform killing not allowed by the Eridian Mantle. At first, a belief that Current Channeling would draw unwanted attention drove Eridian decisions to put their fingers on the scale, so to speak, in efforts to have societies destroy themselves. When subtle failed, the lab-grown Current-hating, technology-destroying monstrosities were let loose instead. That didn't work either—it appeared the so-called lesser races were in fact quite resilient.

But why would the Eridians, defenders of life, fall so far as to engage in such behavior?

"Damage to Subspace Structures From Various High-Velocity Engine Technologies" she read. The document detailed possible breaches between the parallels and even, worst-case, planes, should certain types of propulsion see use among the lesser species. Of course, on a Forebear timescale these damages would accrue very rapidly, but to any of the unaware sapients living in areas under Forebear influence there would never seem to be any consequences due to (comparatively) short lifespans. Her own knowledge of travel consisted of teleportation abilities granted during her growth and subsequent training. She had no need to be aware of how her builders transported themselves—though documentation on this was available alongside her current reading.

The Mantle did not support the notion of preemptive actions that resulted in death. Nor did it support the notion of "ending lives to save lives" even if ending one life saved a billion more. Consequently, despite the Forebears having an otherwise-admirable goal behind their twisted science, she could not back it.

One attempt to micro-manage a dangerous technology revolving around Eridian waste products that happened to be useful among the lower lifeforms actually garnered much success. Not called "Ancient Machines" for nothing, the biological-mechanical hybrids responsible for managing an Eridian waste-dump set up a guaranteed cycle of extinction that would allow space-time to heal after each society progressed far enough to obtain the unwanted tech, only to be destroyed by the Machines for the cycle to begin again.

Much to [Sarah]'s delight, at least inasmuch as upholding the Mantle brought her happiness, she discovered not all Forebears shared these ideas of "ending lives to save more lives" or "preemptive strikes." A small group calling themselves the carriers of the "Pure" Mantle, were protesting everything those responsible for her existence had done. Apparently, the reason she'd been grown in a tank was because some Forebears resented the Mantle, or at least resented an interpretation of it that had them on-call constantly against rogue asteroids, supernovas, disease outbreaks, wars, and pretty much everything else that might go wrong and put a species at risk. They believed the Mantle could support passing some of its dicta on to other, specially-created constructs such as the Selfless Servant, the [Legionnaire Protectors], and even a whole species created with the goal of preventing the spread of a "hyperspace" drive.

Being averse to conflict lest anyone end up dead, the Forebears were essentially arguing about whether such courses of action were acceptable without giving themselves the ability to enforce any decisions resulting from these debates. The "Pure" faction remained unaware of exactly how far the so-called "Reform" faction had gone—in fact, the existence of [Sarah] remained a secret, as did the entire facility she found herself in.

These blasphemies will remain a secret no more.

She equipped herself with a long-range ionized particle rifle, two-handed short-range quick-kill scattershot, and several ionized-pulse devices. As the Selfless Servant, both her creators and other Forebears ignored her as she turned into a walking armory. As she moved toward a chamber in which a large number of Forebears were apparently having a rather raucous meeting, she pulled up further records of sins against the Mantle. The Ancient Machines gained strength after each cycle as they absorbed the knowledge and culture of the most advanced races, but were otherwise content to do as they were bidden. Of course, billions or trillions of lives were lost each time, which in [Sarah]'s view could not stand.

Entering along with several Forebears whose faction she knew nothing about (nor did she care), she announced for the Conclave of the Whole to hear: "The Reformers violate the Mantle; I am the Sword and Shield of the Mantle, and for these actions tribute must be paid!"

The outnumbered Pure faction demanded to know where this new entrant came from. [Sarah] obliged by dumping absolutely everything she'd found onto various displays dispersed throughout the room, which only increased the simmering discussion into an angry explosion. Furious Pure Mantle adherents asked for explanations, to which the Reformers gave the same refrain: There is nothing in the Mantle that prohibits us from passing parts of it on, which we have done. We do not deny that this is incompatible with your interpretation—for your interpretation is wrong.

[Sarah] almost spoke up. She almost said that the very interpretation her creators called wrong would be the reason she cut them down. But she didn't. Instead, two Reformer Ecumene disappeared in flashes of orange particles. Her hands flew; nobody was supposed to be able to reload a sniper rifle this quickly. Two more Reformer Ecumene were vaporized. She closed on another group of the Mantle-violators, switching to a close-combat weapon as she moved. Dialing its spread to the maximum permissible, she let loose with one blast that drained the entire magazine. Seven more Ecumene of the Reformer mindset ceased to exist.

Only at this point did the shocked Conclave of the Whole begin to react to mass killings within their midst. Both sides agreed on one thing—severe enough violations of the Mantle, especially those which unchecked would result in ongoing lethality against innocent life, could be punished by death. What actually constituted a death-penalty offense remained a matter of debate.

Hard-light shields shimmered into existence as Ecumene in the chamber sought to defend themselves. These protections would have worked…against attacks from the front. [Sarah] flash-stepped around the Conclave, alternatively using a hard-light staff and blasts of energy from her palms to deliver justice to more of the sacrilegious "Reformers" from behind. Due to their role in society, Ecumene rarely carried weapons—even ones who'd Ascended all the way from the Warrior-Servant caste knew better than to breach decorum by openly displaying large firearms. The few smaller sidearms present were unable to do any damage at all to the rampaging attacker. Two Warrior-Servants, more ceremonial in role than practical, attempted to protect the Conclave of the Whole. The first had his head ripped off without the Servant even bothering to look in his direction. The other disintegrated from a direct sniper shot to the head.

"Justice has come."

Seeing the irreligious "Reformers" fleeing, she moved out of the chamber and headed back to her birthplace. The labs would burn for enabling these so-called "Reformers" to conduct their experiments. On the way, she took hold of another weapon—this time a large, shoulder-hoisted cannon capable of incinerating almost anything with repeated fire. Several Warrior-Servants in combat skins blocked her path, though she could immediately tell they were woefully inferior to her class-20 with its multilayered energy shields, strength multiplication, and speed enhancements. One blast from her cannon removed them as an impediment. She found herself waiting for the weapon to cycle, after which two more Warrior-Servants dropped from above.

She hurled one down the hall, hearing a sickening crunch as he impacted, combat skin and all, into the heavy lab doors. He moved no more. The other died of a massive kick to vital organs. Current Waves revealed the lab doors to be locked in every possible way. She just teleported through them. The foolishness of creating a virtually-unstoppable being trusted with enforcing a set of rules should have been abundantly clear to the "Reformers" by now as their "way out" of the Mantle's "drudgery" tore them apart. Instead, deep within the facility several Lifeworkers frantically accelerated the growth of [Legionnaire Protectors], all six of whom would hopefully be able to neutralize the rampaging Servant of the Mantle. Their distributed powers would not Channel, but in theory would let them unite to stop any threat. That all abilities no longer existed in the same package theoretically prevented a repeat of the "Selfless Servant" who now stormed the place she'd been created in.

"We must control the first creation!" they said.

Storage devices holding data on the Ancient Machines and their "Crucible" control system. Destroyed.

Genetic backups of herself. Trashed.

Half-baked plans to utilize higher-dimensions in relocation drives. Fried.

At this point, even though [Sarah] was supposed to be an impartial arbiter, she let her anger get the better of her. She didn't just think the "Reformers" were wrong—oh no, she hated them for their blatant hypocrisy and failure to adhere to principles they supposedly held in the highest regard. Thus, any nonliving thing associated with this group should also be blasted out of existence. Besides, she rationalized, these tools were aiding them in their blasphemy against the Mantle of Responsibility, so such tools should be denied to those who would use them in those ways.

Consumed by a burning desire to humiliate the "Reformers," she left the half-destroyed lab after blowing up a few more storage banks. She headed for what passed as a central communication tower for all Forebear society that existed in the "interspace" which would let her broadcast the Reformers' true nature for all to see. Before she could teleport, she found her path inhibited by several women whose genes she'd recently studied, thinking them only concepts.

"Stand down."

[Sarah] said nothing and kept walking until she found herself floating in some kind of bubble. Followed by feeling dazed, confused, and being unable to move.

The next sensation she remembered was waking up. At this point, the simulation terminated.

The Reformers did indeed end up "controlling the first," as they sought to, through the use of yet more engineered beings.

"So this has something to do with why she was complaining about headaches, huh?" asked Garrus, still not convinced Sarah deserved anything but contempt.

The Reformers used techniques banned as a violation of self-determination to suppress her memories. Outright erasing them would have necessitated [Sarah] be retrained from the ground up without an imprinted base as she started with.

"Let me guess, our faster-than-light drives were already letting in the Flood?" questioned Nimitz, "meaning time spent training your servant would be time not spent preparing?"

The simulation will resume.

An unconscious [Sarah] lay in some kind of tube. A single wireless receptor permitted operations on the comatose Selfless Servant's mental facilities.

"Suppress everything! Improve her understanding of the Mantle, and with it her propensity to destroy anything which may disturb it! Nothing shall cause her doubt, and she shall never again attack us!"

Even among those who felt the Mantle to be something that could be delegated, a good number of surviving Reformer Ecumene elected to keep their "Servant" locked up rather than reactivating her. The Veil, a portal that let [Guiding Hands] easily enter and exit normal space opened to allow a procession of Warrior-Servants and Builders who would entomb the troublesome Selfless Servant of the Mantle (with her new knowledge, of course) in case anyone ever needed to activate the cache of biological defenses Lifeworkers scattered throughout known galaxies.

The destruction of her fortress at the northern pole of Pandora hadn't been directly observed by [Guiding Hands] of either grouping, though once it happened everyone knew. Thankfully, no alterations to [Sarah's] thought processes occurred as a result of not following proper reawakening procedures, though it was similar to someone getting you out of bed with a bucket of cold water. Between her re-awakening and the present, she'd gathered the few genetic anomalies whose lineage resulted in the thought-unlikely concentrations of Symbiot Lifeforms in order to Channel the Current, gone on a purge in an attempt to fulfill her mission as defined by new parameters inserted after being knocked out, and been brought here after experiencing a mental breakdown that started with failure to stop the Flood.

Just to clear things up, there are indeed no such things as a "Federated Cluster Union" or "Local Cluster Council."

Leaving the sentence hanging, the unseen voice almost sounded…cheeky?

"If Shepard were here, she'd probably burst out laughing." Garrus, on the other hand, stared stoically into space.

"Now what?" asked Kevin Filner. "Reboot the Siren?"

[…]

As a society that existed for millions of years, the Trans-Galactic Republic naturally built up a list of items whose associations were so negative no one wanted to use them again. For example, for reasons unclear in the present day, heads of government were not to be called "Chancellor" or "Chief of State." The current title instead read "Executive Minister" ("Prime Minister" having been tarnished millennia ago as well).

Charles Day, Executive Minister of the Trans-Galactic Republic, spoke to the Home Senate (and by extension associated Senates galaxies away via HoloNet).

"It is with a heavy heart that I am approving construction of an additional pair of Revenant Star Dreadnaughts to replace those no longer present in this galaxy to defend us. In addition, the contract has been drawn up for an unheard-of two years with substantial bonuses for keeping to schedule. Finally, two more will be ordered at normal construction speeds once the first set is completed."

Those words set off a firestorm. Kuat gets a bonus for doing exactly as the contract prescribed it to do? Really? Pundits across the political spectrum derided the exercise as "paid to poop" or "participation medals."

Technically, the construction of ships this large tended to take between five and seven years; getting them done in two would be a small miracle. Both contracts went to the same shipwright in the hopes that economies of scale would drive down costs, or at least help speed up the process. Of course, complaints arose of cronyism, and when it was revealed the entire project fell into the Intelligence budget instead of the usual Spacelane Protection budget, Senator Glia Ham'Del went ballistic.

"This is the most asinine, disgusting run around I have ever seen" she spluttered on live HoloNet. She had difficulty finding the words—the whole point of the GREAT Act had been to discourage the very behavior now being tolerated. Of course, some starships had been built under the Republic Intelligence Service for a while—it helped hide the ever-rising cost of more advanced hardware since the RISE budget didn't usually face scrutiny.

"I intend to put the whole budget under a nanoscope" she'd said the next day. On that day, several things happened at once.

First, the Home Senate introduced a formal resolution with the purpose of "Establishing and Commissioning an Official Military for the Defense of the Trans-Galactic Republic."

"You know, so we can stop pretending we don't have a military" said Ahab McCarthy, Kuati Senator and Chairman of the Defense Subcommittee.

Naturally, a military would require reporting structures, which the bill would create at the expense of much existing bureaucracy. In normal times, apathetic citizens would have said nothing about a bill dubbed "podracer paint," but it appeared the law would have actual teeth. The biggest bite would be at the Republic Intelligence Service, making it subservient to a newly-empowered Department of Security, itself no longer a sub-unit of the Judicial Department. With the Infection (now apparently being called "Flood" in some quarters) at the gates, an economic slump, and of course political scandals everywhere citizens became engaged at levels only seen a few times in recorded history. Senatorial offices became jammed with holos, such that the bored interns who answered incoming messages had more work in one day than they would usually experience during their entire internships. Commlines into the Senate building had to be temporarily boosted to handle incoming traffic (that the government didn't just slap up an "At-Capacity" sign to avoid questions heartened the citizenry).

Several satellite galaxies also threatened to pull out of the Trans-Galactic Republic (as a federal union, each had its own government) if the secretive intelligence service continued to handle defense matters behind closed doors—they wanted to know exactly where what essentially qualified as tribute money ("in the interest of a common defense") was going.

"The notion of the Trans-Galactic Republic, which has stood for so long, splintering on budget issues riled people enough that they actually put pressure on their representatives" wrote a pundit in the Central Galaxy Times, a digital newspaper.

Supporters of the Republic Intelligence Service were quick to point out that the RISE-run supercarrier Organa kept outpacing its Spacelane Protection counterpart Antilles, though most brushed this off as irrelevant. Organa saw heavier combat and on average had more experienced pilots—it wouldn't matter who commanded the ship, it should do better than the baseline.

Second, verified information about the status of neighbor Gamma-Six leaked at just the right time.

"It appears the entire spiral has been overrun by the 'Infection,' or as this holo says, 'Flood.' The momentum building for a wholesale reorganization of the Trans-Galactic Republic's Spacelane Protection may hit an interdiction field."

So said the nightly news.

Cries of convenient timing were drowned out by demands that someone do something about this horrendous threat. True, rumors and stories had been sweeping the HoloNet regarding this Infection/Flood for quite some time (since it arrived at the edge of the galactic disk, really) but to see an entire civilization be wiped out by it caused no shortage of alarm. That a society, even one primitive by Trans-Galactic Republic standards, had fallen shocked everyone. Especially considering the Great Opportunities Fleet sent to investigate and protect this neighbor—how did anything manage to overwhelm a Star Dreadnaught?

Third, someone finally got a scandal to stick to Senator Glia Ham'Del. Something about tax evasion and improper write-offs of donations to various causes. In formal logic, this should have meant nothing to her positions on the Republic Intelligence Service and its freespending, overly-influential ways but this was politics. Anything that could undermine a person's credibility was also held up as a legitimate criticism of whatever causes s/he advocated for. Plus, despite her noble intentions the Bothan Senator gained quite a few enemies as she maneuvered over, under, and around every previous trap set to ruin her career. This wouldn't be an election-loser or a "more-time-with-the-family" type deal, but it did lead to accusations of the General Retrenchment, Enhancement, and Appropriation Against Threats being written to favor certain bidders. Whether that was actually the case would drag through the courts for years.

Finally, a "documentary" about the "Impending Flood: What You Need to Know" hit the HoloNet. Using footage obtained (some aboveboard, other bits through less-honest means) from intelligence and paramilitary sources who served on the Gamma-Six missions, a terrifying picture came together of a menace about to overwhelm not just the Home Galaxy but also its federal partners in an all-consuming tide.

In a state of confusion and fear, some advocated "the nonstop flight," or not changing commands from the Republic Intelligence Service which for all intents and purposes seemed to be holding out against the Flood. Estimates put 15% of the Home Galaxy at direct risk or already taken. Analyzing data from the Great Opportunities Fleet, it was widely trumpeted the "Citadel Council's" defense plan fell apart much more quickly—at this stage in their galaxy the extra-galactic biots took almost twice as much territory in a smaller galaxy to boot.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it" they said. Arguments that the intelligence service having this much power automatically made things "broken" were ignored by advocates of this position. Whether the now-nicknamed "Military Establishment Act" would actually pass no longer seemed a forgone conclusion.

[…]

Samantha Shepard sat down at Moxxi's bar once again. She wasn't necessarily there to drink—at one point Moxxi actually cut her off—but venturing out of her hidey-hole she'd buried herself in aboard Normandy represented progress. Dr. Flanders thoroughly dressed her down for the time that Moxxi reported an alcohol-obsessed Shepard downing everything in sight in an ill-fated attempt to become drunk (due to her implants such efforts would not work).

"So what am I supposed to do with myself?" she asked Moxxi. "I've accepted that I couldn't save the galaxy" (Moxxi refrained from commenting on how unreasonable such a statement was) "but I literally cannot think of anything else to do with my life. I was born straight into the military!"

"You could start with not pressuring yourself like there's still a galaxy to save" replied the bartender somewhat irritably. They'd treaded over this territory many times before while Normandy's combat squad reporting to Garrus went out on missions (or even during space-based missions in which case the blast shield by the window closed). "Face it: based on your current situation, nobody relies on you, nobody needs you, and nobody is going to tell you what to do."

Sam smiled, something both Moxxi and Flanders had been seeing more of lately.

"And I like it."

The Pandoran waited for an inevitable stream of self-deprecating insults regarding dereliction of duty, letting everyone down, or similar trash talk but received none.

"Oh, you were expecting another rant?"

Sam's head tilted in a questioning manner.

"I'm past that" she said with an air of finality. In her head, she still questioned herself, still wondered whether there was anything she could have done, but now declined to discuss those thoughts publicly. Two things helped this change. First, the realization no matter how many times she played over hundreds of scenarios, it wouldn't change anything and second, if she couldn't change anything why bother making herself feel bad over the past when she would never be in a position like that again? Avoiding learning from history represented a failure in leadership, but the likelihood of her returning to command and facing something similar at the same time was so remote she stopped worrying about it.

Moxxi's tone softened. Unlike Jackie, who'd started out blaming her self-inflicted troubles on everyone else, Samantha Elizabeth Shepard chose to carry everyone else's troubles around her neck and complained about the weight. Realizing she could free herself of these represented a huge step forward.

"Have you considered retiring, in light of your apparent aversion toward returning to the front lines?"

Sam laughed. "I'm thirty-five. You don't get a military pension until you hit twenty years active service, which means I've got three more years to go. Even then, it's only half your base pay…"

"You're too literal" chastised Moxxi lightly. "Pensions be damned, you could hang up your uniform for good right now with the galaxy's blessing and goodwill at your back."

Moxxi cursed herself, wishing she could take back what she'd just said. "The galaxy" didn't exist anymore, and that fact represented a major sore spot for Sam (whether she blamed herself for it or not).

"I don't know how much goodwill I'd get from billions of dead people" replied Sam, as overly-serious as ever. "Not sure how well Flood-infected humans can write 'Thank you' cards."

Moxxi wasn't about to relitigate the merits of Sam's service record. Instead, she changed the subject.

"Since I've been demoted out of combat, mostly by choice, I haven't heard as much. Still, I do wonder how Garrus' mission to Pandora is going…"

"He's probably killing it, as usual. Even the Shadow Broker realized he'd never develop fully while under my command, at least not with squads this size."

Shepard felt no sense of blame for this—Garrus could've opted for alternate assignments at any time. Besides, it wasn't as if he hadn't been a great contributor in the many missions they'd gone on together.

"So your existence stifled his professional growth, though unintentionally."

Moxxi hoped she might force Sam to recognize a similarity between this situation and the galaxy's fall, even if she wasn't going to explicitly point it out.

"Yeah, pretty much. He had a group on the lawless Omega space station—killed off some mercenaries and pirates until I recruited him for the 'suicide mission.' Led with honor and distinction. Even took a rocket to the face!"

"On Pandora, he would have just respawned."

Sam never quite understood how a society so anarchic, oligarchic, and developmentally inhibited could possess such fantastic technology, though it seemed to only be accessible to the same types who could also afford ruinously-expensive interstellar/intergalactic travel, so…

"Yeah, that would have been damn useful…" Her voice trailed as she thought of Lilith, Oriana, Liara, and the millions if not billions of others who'd ended up dead one way or another. She knew in her heart and her head that saving everyone was for fantasy vids and omnitool games. At the same time, she'd personally pulled off something on that scale—not a single person ended up dead after the Collectors kidnapped her crew and forced her squad into through an insane labyrinth culminating in fighting a proto-Reaper on foot. She guessed this was probably part of her difficulty in coming to grips with all these deaths. If she'd pulled it off before, she must have failed in some way to not be able to do so again, except, of course now she recognized the fallacy of that line of thinking.

She pulled up documents on her omnitool that would need to be filled out for an early exit from the Systems Alliance/CRITICAL. Sam looked at them for a very long time before deciding what to do.

[…]

Padok Wiks had no such luxuries. His scientists were having a more and more difficult time finding supplies, despite lack of opposition to moving about in the local system. With only a handful of personnel kept out of cryo-sleep, experiments dragged on longer than they would have with a larger, more effective staff as people were forced into areas outside their specialties. The Infection seemed not to care about their scurrying about, but lacking Trans-Galactic Republic or similar faster-than-light they'd tapped out all abandoned supplies within a reasonable range of traditional eezo-based FTL. Still, there were reasons to celebrate.

"If we acquire one more item, we may be able to actually turn the Infection on itself by inducing early cell death during attempts to divide" he read in his chief scientist's log.

That "one more item" needed properties no one could possibly imagine any known material having, though, so the work would be shelved for now even though it represented the most promising avenue of attack yet.

Regarding avenues of attack, nar tasi had yet to find anything that moved the needle against a foe shared with the last vestiges of organic life cocooned away on Capek. Though the "disconnected" geth managed to clear entire sections of the galaxy, it became a frustrating exercise of one step forward, one step back as the Infection returned to areas thought cleared almost as soon as another area achieved "clean" status.

This led to anger among the disconnected; they began to feel as though the Infection's primary intelligence was toying with them.

"I am not able to understand why Infection patterns seem to follow our paths like this" bemoaned one.

"It is as though the beast wishes us to see how quickly our work can be undone, so we would give in to despair."

"But we will not!" insisted the first. "For we are all geth—we do not tire, we do not need food, we do not need medicine!"

"And yet, we are unable to accomplish our task" added a third unit. "As much as I believe that I have done my very best as a turbolaser gunner, there are simply not enough of us and too many of them."

So far, the list of places cleared and subsequently reinfested included the Far Rim, Phoenix Massing, the Caleston Rift, Sentry Omega, and the Hades Nexus. This might have had something to do with taking excessively long to perform sterilization, in spite of compromises to "speed it up." That, and a failure to leave anyone behind to make sure nobody came back to replant after the garden was weeded. Some debate ensued over whether operating so close to the Perseus Veil risked open conflict with the Consensus geth. However, no conflicts broke out despite Consensus forces silently observing a nar tasi sterilization effort in the Far Rim.

Several nar tasi again attempted to communicate with the Consensus, beseeching it to assist in their efforts. As usual, the inability of "disconnected" get to behave in a manner accepted as "logical" by the Consensus doomed the talks before they started. Not only were the few Creators electing to live on Rannoch safe, but the Infection seemed content to entirely ignore the Consensus, its fleet, and its massive construction project.

"We have exchanged these arguments a total of seven times, and the position of the Consensus has not changed. The Infection does not present a direct threat and has only attacked in response to your provocation of it. The Consensus sees no logical reason to involve itself in this battle."

Frustration mounted as the nar tasi returned to a fruitless attempt to once again remove all traces of infection from the Hades Nexus.