A/N: And we're back

XXxxXX

"You're kidding me right?" Adrian said incredulously. His voice was low, borderline growling.

All eyes in the transport tube turned to him.

"It's plausible that she might be under the Flood's influence, we've seen the test with delayed assimilation."

"Parangosky… controlled by the Flood?" Adrian sighed, shaking his head. "Are you listening to yourself Donnie?"

"Look, the analysts and I…"

"You, me, and you're panel of analysts all have lost someone at Northfold. We all hate her, but listen to yourself!" Arca interrupted.

Keyes remained silent, averting his gaze to the floor. He leaned back against the white hull and crossed his arms. "It doesn't make sense, why would she?"

"She's a war criminal," Adrian said bluntly, boring his blue eyes at the Director. "She doesn't want to be caged up like your mother… or worse."

"Do you really think it's that simple?" Essingdon asked. He had never been one for blatantly simple ideas; he always held a belief that there was always something more elaborate lying underneath.

"Sometimes it is."

And just like, the theory had disappeared into nothingness. What Adrian said was true; ONI was blinded by their hatred towards Parangosky. He was wary enough to stay clear of that trap, regardless of how much the bitch had taken from him.

"She is still dangerous," the Operative added, "she's got a large portion of Aegis in her hands, and who knows how many terror cells."

"You think she'll make another Northfold?"

Adrian nodded.

"Okay, I'll mobilise everyone."

Mobilising in this context meant that all of ONI's critical operations would be going mobile. Operational Command, Administration Management and whatever R'n'D projects would be moved onto the Organisation's stealth fleets.

Training facilities would have an increase in security, and sites will still be manned, but all pinnacle staff would be stationed on ships. Something like that would be expensive, but no chances could be taken. Not with Parangosky running rampant. If she could attack Northfold successfully, she could do it to other facilities, such as Forbidden City.

"What's the situation outside?" the Paramilitary Officer asked.

Keyes rubbed the back of his neck. "There's been talk of a merger between the Alliance and the UNSC. Containment Teams haven't come into with any Flood, and I'm ordering more SOGs classes."

ONISAD had been hit hard lately, the SOGs in particular.

Adrian turned his eyes down to his shoes, giving a small nod. Donnie knew that it was the look of a present pain that had not left.

"Hey, when you take time off, relax a little, and try not to worry about what's going on here okay? I've got things under control."

Arca gave a more pronounced nod.

"When you get the fresh batch, take them out; help them acclimatise on the Citadel."

"Okay."

Keyes turned to face John, who was sitting next to Shepard.

"R'n'R, get some now, because well, you know what's waiting for us."

John gave a gesture of understanding. He could do with a bit of shore leave before jumping back into the fray. Right now, while things were "quiet", he couldn't really do much. And it looked like Shepard agreed.

"I'm pulling back Gray and Red to cover for you, so don't worry."

The Chief's expression softened even further, he could always rely on his Spartan brothers and sisters. Shore leave sounded quite appealing right now. It was one of those take-it-or-leave-it moments that rarely John came across.

Coming to a stop, the tube's doors parted open with a whisper, allowing the occupants to disembark.

"Donnie, just remember, I think you're overreacting," Adrian said quietly.

Keyes cleared his throat.

"I know we want to try and justify what that bitch did, but sometimes, the reasons are anti-climatic."

"Yeah," Donnie sighed with a nod, "I know."

The group walked down the hallway a bit further until they parted for their separate ways. Essingdon and Liara were off to consolidate assets in order to combat future Flood and Fifth Column threats. Arca and Sandman walked towards the training room that held the next batch of Arcani, with Palmer and Thorne in tow.

"We'll meet you in a few," John said to the team when he noticed Jane starting to lag behind.

Gazing out of the viewport, Shepard felt a sense of nostalgia wash over her. It felt like a lifetime since she became a Spectre, but at the same time it felt like it was only yesterday. Gazing at where Omega once stood, it served as a reminder of how far Jane had come.

A slow soothing feeling spread across her chest as she inhaled, and remembered when the galaxy had its back turned on her. When it was really just her and a band of unique people just slugging it out. Now, she had the backing of the most powerful organisation known to the galactic stage. But at the same time, she was caught in a sinister conspiracy.

Shepard could always ask for out, but that just wasn't her way. Dealing with politics and a gun was her specialty that was why she was a Spectre after all.

"It's been a while, hasn't it."

John knew exactly what she was talking about. He knew about how she had to deal with the galaxy's scum to make sure innocent people slept easily in their beds. It was one hell of a ride that Shepard had been on, a truly unique experience. He had to admit that it was far more colourful than his journey.

Jane got to experience eons of culture and human expansion into a wider community, before meeting him and seeing an even greater past. Yes, she had lived a thousand lifetimes with her journey. A good ride, one of the best of rides, but a damn tiring one.

The wears and tears of the journey were showing on her. Being involved in a sinister conspiracy did that to people, turned them all into the same mental age.

"Yes it has," John said, his deep voice held warmth in them. Something that had always been exceedingly rare

"When all of this is over…" Jane trailed off, "hmm, we'll get there when we get there.

DECK 5C

Though not necessarily the ONISAD-SOG's training ground, the expansive chamber was nonetheless impressive. It currently simulated a night time, torrential rain environment for the candidates, or in this case, the graduates, to train in. Sarah's eyes trailed along the brutal course which was designed to push Spartans to their limits. She could see the next batch of Arcani Operatives climbing up the obstacles in the most unconventional way, straining their already fatigued body.

She moved to the observation deck, which overlooked the entire area, and gazing down, Sarah knew that the graduates were going through a marathon. No other military school or program in the UNSC demanded training marathons after graduation, especially this calibre. Airborne assessment phase was considered to be the most brutal, closely followed by the ODSTs. Special Missions Unit training and selection are equally the same.

Curiously enough, selection for the Spartan-IV Program was not that intensive. Maybe it was because that the candidates had already proven themselves on the field of battle. Palmer did know that ONI did spend copious amount of time to finding the right recruit, so that also might have something to do with it.

SOG training looked brutal, the Arcani Program was implemented to train ONISAD-SOG Operatives, and mould them into becoming the perfect assassins. Below in the pit, men were crawling, no, swimming through the mud, before moving through a parkour section under heavy fire. There movements were sloppy and lacked the precision that Sarah was used to seeing.

"Anyone ever drop out?" Palmer asked.

"I've never heard of anyone dropping out," Adrian said.

"Me neither," Riley shrugged.

"Let's go down and meet them."

Sarah was thankful that they took the time to stop by the lockers to get changed. She wore the standard bodysuit that Spartan-IVs wore when off duty, making her standout against the Operatives whom wore grey-digital camo combat uniform, complete with matching armoured vest, shoulder, elbow, shin pads and gloves. It was designed to be worn during urban incursions where moving lightly through tight spaces was key. The gear they wore was absolute minimum allowed for combat.

Palmer was slightly thankful that they had their sleeves rolled up and left their helmets and other headgear back in the lockers. It made them look more human and less scary. She also noted that they always travelled armed, even when off-duty and inside the safety of a ship. Their black customised sidearms hung in their thigh holsters, ready to be drawn in a split second. The whole message of "don't fuck with us" was written all over them. However Riley decided to go a step further, and have his bow slung on his back.

Overkill much? Palmer pondered.

Upon reaching ground level, Sarah heard mud squelched under her boots and felt the rain soak through her hair and cargo pants. She was grateful that the bodysuit shed off any liquids. Watching Adrian walk to the Instructor, she could see the Operative's expression soften. Immediately, she knew that the Instructor was an old friend.

"Saps," Adrian greeted.

"Arca," Alec replied. He had curly, but neatly cut, short dirty blonde hair. His eyes were blue, and his features were slim. Sarah could tell that most of his limbs were prosthetic, mainly from the way he moved, and that his rolled up sleeves revealed onyx black arm. Unlike Adrian, he didn't try to hide his robotic limbs, but displayed them proudly.

"New batch? How old?"

Alec pursed his lips. "Fresh out of graduation, age varies between twenty-three and twenty-five."

Sarah watched a number of Operatives finish the parkour segment, and moved onto rope climb and rope swing. After that, they dove into a wave pool, swimming against the current to get to the other side. From there, they proceeded to the combat section. Each graduate had a rifle, a sidearm and a knife. Instructors were pushing them on through the course, increasing their stress levels significantly.

Eventually, the twenty-three graduates formed up in front of Alec. They were tired well beyond exhaustion, half of them were droning already. They wore the exact gear as Adrian and Gabriel was, but instead of being fresh and clean, they were cacked in mud, and gore from the gut trench.

"I think this takes the cake for the hardest training course I've seen," Sarah commented.

Riley turned to face. She could see that his piercing blue eyes were just as weary as Adrian's, and there was a very thin, barely noticeable scar running vertically down over his left eye. The rain poured through his closely cropped brown hair, somehow enhancing his general tiredness. But at least his nature was more relaxed than Arca.

"This isn't training," Sandman said, "it's secondary breakdown."

Adrian walked amongst the ranks and inspected each Operative. Each one sported a different style of buzz cut hair, giving them a sense of uniformity and individuality simultaneously. Sarah swept her eyes across their tired faces. Despite their exhaustion, she could still see the cold, calculative, impersonal nature drilled into them.

"Gents," Alec said, addressing the class. "I'd like you to meet Arca."

All eyes turned to Adrian. They've all just completed the program, and in just a few days, they'll be shipped off for deployment.

"I'm here to grab replacements," he said bluntly.

None of the graduates moved, except to blink.

"Any suggestions?" Adrian asked Alec.

"Twins!" Saps called out.

Two men of Anglo Saxon descent with black hair and brown eyes quickly jogged to the front of formation. They gave a curt nod to Arca, ONISAD never saluted.

"Names?"

"Blaze…"

"… and Viper."

Sarah arched an eyebrow. Twins finishing each other's sentences, this'll be fun. There was absolutely no way to tell each other apart. They looked exactly the same, same haircut, same mannerisms.

"And why do they call you that?" Sandman asked.

"Knack for clearing out positions with fire," Blaze answered.

"Precision and speed," Viper replied.

Adrian faced Alec. "What's the real story?"

Nicknames and call signs generally have a deprecating story behind them.

"Blaze ate a lot of chilli during our multi-cultural lessons, couldn't sit for a week, and Viper was bitten by a snake when he was a kid… cried like a bitch," he turned to Palmer and raised his hands, "no offense."

"None taken," Sarah said. "Can we get out of the rain now?"

Alec gave a nod, and then addressed the class. "Follow me to the armoury."

Upon arriving into the weapons bay, Sarah quickly noted how artistic the room looked. It was lacked the ever present utilitarian feel in the UNSC. Instead of angular tables, there were curved counters illuminated by lights.

"Alec loves to tinker. He holds master degrees in engineering, computer science and physics," Adrian supplied to Sarah. "He loves to take care of his weapons."

"No kidding," Palmer whispered, "this place feels like a jewellery store for millionaires."

"But, we are, millionaires," Adrian drawled.

"You know what I mean," Sarah sighed.

The group gathered around the central bench which was set up in a semi-amphitheatre area. Alec stood behind the counter, showcasing a weapon.

"Gather round kids."

Palmer saw a small smile on Adrian's face when Alec said 'kids'. There was a certain irony to it.

"We're not that young," Blaze said in a slight joking manner.

The class was recovering from the brutal marathon, but they would still be tired until they got food and enough bed rest. Blaze's little comment helped brighten up the spirits of his tired classmates.

"Yeah, and I'm not that senile," Alec replied. A few more instructors filed into the room. He then gestured to the onyx black streamlined weapon in front of him. "Kids, this is the Gauss Battle Rifle Model Two. We call it 'Grim the Second', or 'G2', or just 'Grim'."

The Senior Operatives folded their arms and gave a soft smile. Even Thorne appeared to be happy. Sarah had rarely seen him smile. It seemed genuine… and it was probably about the gun, which seemed sad and tragic at the same time.

"Our older members will remember the first Grim."

"A damn good rifle," Sandman said. Thorne nodded in agreement.

"Well, the G2 just came fresh from the devs," Alec continued, he picked up the rifle for the demonstration. "Rounds have been optimised for maximum range, stoping power and capacity. Multiple magnetic coils along the barrel are powered by hydrogen fuel cells that you insert into the stock, just above the magazine. On maximum settings you can turn Innies into chum… but be careful though, nearly burst my eardrums and almost burned the house down. On stealth settings, its whisper quiet and still packs enough punch to bring down shields quickly. Normal settings give Grim one hell of a bite. Finally my most favourite feature is the firing mechanism."

Alec's hand brushed over a compartment above the trigger, and replaced the box with a blue pulsating cylinder.

"Now, it's a DEW. Excellent for fighting the Flood, Innies and the Reapers."

"Must be a Grim…"

"…Reaper then!" Viper finished, "Zing!"

A few groans were made as everyone heard the terrible pun. Alec continued on his lecture about Grim, giving Sarah the inkling that he may have an obsession for destruction. He consistently focused on the damage output of the weapon. When he was done, he displayed other rifles, and as Palmer expected, he talked about how to take care of it with utmost prudence, and stopping power. Finally the talk was over, and the class of Arcani Operatives dispersed to browse through the weapon racks, before leaving for the billets, leaving Viper and Blaze behind.

Sarah was somewhat annoyed at the graduates' comical behaviour. She found the jokes endearing, but the fact that they joked, disturbed her. Maybe it was because of that detached, impersonal look they had in their eyes.

Fresh out of training, and they know what they're getting into.

CONTROL ROOM-01

Liara had left to spend time with Shepard, leaving Keyes alone to ponder the conversation he had with Adrian. He had to admit that Chen was right. ONI's judgement had been clouded and hasty due to Parangosky crippling Northfold and beating hell out of ONISAD.

PAG were working overtime to try and tack her movements and freeze all of her assets. But Aegis's had assets that weren't part of the Coalition's economy. Hence they would be relatively immune from the PAG's incursions.

Section II was still busy cleaning up after the incident surrounding Omega. He really did not want people panicking about the Flood right now. Section I was still monitoring the suspiciously quiet Reapers. And well, Section III continued with their Black Ops Programs. The Arcani Program had been developed by them to be implemented into ONISAD.

It had been based open the culmination of covert and clandestine assassination programs. They made sure that the Operatives could carry out their order without question, but being human enough to trust, blend and work as an effective team. They weren't as heartless as their predecessors, but they could work longer without requiring heavy drugs or breaking down. That time of training was hard to exploit. But Parangosky had exploited it. She was now a woman on the run, with an ace in the hole against ONI. That was what Keyes feared, it didn't help that a head count revealed that ONISAD was missing 13th Element.

"Fuck," he swore, slamming his pen down on the table. But he quickly regretted it, he had lost self-control, and his hands were now covered in ink.

Regardless of how much training a person had received, stress of having to deal with an unknown factor will always have the same effect. The unknown factor for Donnie's case was the Flood and Parangosky. Having a Fifth Column and a parasitic race running wild was never a good thing.

But this was ONI, so logically; they'd concentrate on the Fifth Column and let the rest of the UNSC handle the Flood, right? Wrong! They were ONI, they're entire existence revolved around having a hand or an eye on everything. Of course that was not logistically possible, but that was the gist of how the Organisation operated.

Really could use some shore leave right about now… should've taken it last year.

XXxxXX

SERPENT NEBULA, CITADEL II, PRESIDIUM COMMONS, LI'SHIER HALL

The calm before the storm was always stressful. Keyes had made that clear to John. He had never been much for shore leave, but according to the reports, it said that he needed one. The Spartan wasn't one to complain, he'll let the professionals do their job so that he could do his.

The station was currently going through its night cycle, there was a function happening. And John knew exactly what it was about. That was why he was in his dress blacks, and Shepard was wearing the dress blues with an eagle perched atop the Alliance Symbol.

He felt the need to smile at Ambassador Richard Enderfield's sheer brilliance. The Alliance had become a vassal of the UNSC, which meant that humanity got to retain its seat on the counsel, and the Alliance gets to have access to Tier-1 technology.

"History in the making," Jane commented.

The two of them stepped out of the formal skycar and onto the red carpet, manned by ODSTs in the ceremonial dress on the left, and N7s in their dress blues on the right.

Calmly, with such grace and precision, the two walked down through the throngs of reporters bombarding them with questions that Jane wasn't comfortable answering. Upon reaching the stairs, Shepard turned around and gave a polite wave, before disappearing behind the glass doors with John.

"So when do the others get here?" she asked, gazing around the immaculately decorated hall.

"Rook and Wizard have been reassigned," John answered, "Palme and her people are already here. Essingdon and Liara will be coming later. I'm not too sure about Vega, Cortez, and Joker though."

"I heard those guys wanted to go out for a movie."

"What movie?"

"Something Goblet, I dunno, I wasn't paying attention," Shepard shrugged.

John was a bit more of a talker these days, despite his register being quick and direct. It was still a sign of trust though, one that Shepard appreciated.

"There's Palmer and Cortana… and Anthony," Jane gestured. She was careful to use their cover names. Being able to read people had allowed her to gather that Adrian was one very paranoid person. She assumed that Gabriel and Riley would be the same.

"Gentlemen," John greeted politely. He made sure that he followed conventions of a social event like this. For some reason though, he remembered how Johnson made fun of him wearing the MJOLNIR while everyone else was in ceremonial dress.

"Chief," Cortana beamed. She had changed her avatar form to wear a flowing navy halter neck top dress. "You look nice."

"Richards," Adrian said. Either the man had been paying attention to what the Chief wore, or his investigations to protect Halsey had allowed him to have glimpses of extremely sensitive files. Probably the later.

The group milled over by the bar which commanded an excellent vantage point over the hall. It was also next to the windows, providing an expansive view over the Citadel Wards, and the orbital habitats.

But despite the heavy Coalition presence in the system, John didn't feel safe. He could tell that Adrian and Riley were feeling the same too. Thorne however was a bit more difficult to read. Probably what made him an excellent asset to monitor others.

"You know you're paranoid, right?" Shepard said quietly to John.

He arched an eyebrow and tilted his head.

"Act less paranoid, just in case."

Shepard was just as paranoid too. Attending the ceremony was purely for PR. People at home loved to see their heroes fighting on the frontlines and making a difference, but they loved it even more when their heroes were out being normal people and relaxing.

From a morale standpoint, this was crucial. Recent events had damaged a fleeting morale in the galaxy. The ceasefire from the Reapers had not been that helpful as many believed the race of sentient starships were gearing up for a major offensive.

Gradually as time passed, more UNSC and Alliance officers arrived. John spotted a few delegates from the Coalition, such as Thel Vadam and his entourage of ambassadors and scholars. The Elites had become a truly remarkable race when they're interests began to shift towards science. Their discipline allowed them to make such leaps and bounds that was thought not possible.

"Spartan," the Arbiter said with a respectful bow.

"Arbiter," John said with equal respect.

Shepard brought over a tray of drinks, she wasn't too sure if they were alcoholic or not, but it didn't really matter. The beverages wouldn't inebriate them in the slightest.

"My thanks, Shepard," the Elite said. "I have heard great things about you."

"As have I about you," Jane said. She made sure that she spoke with a polite and poetic register, in order to be respectful of Sangheili customs.

"What are your thoughts on recent events?" Thel asked.

"It's been difficult to say the least," Shepard said. "I've lost many friends on the way, and seen things that I never wish to see again."

"Trying times are ahead of us. With the parasite here, we can only hope to prevail before they do."

It was clear to John that the Elites were also concerned about recent events, particularly the Flood. But it was also clear that they were annoyed at the galaxy's inaction.

PRESIDIUM COMMONS, MARKET PLACE

Thane and his son, Kolyat had been spending their time together enjoying diner when the rest of the Normandy crew came along to join them. Kasumi was with them, and was sure to brighten up the mood of the gathering. They sat in a restaurant that overlooked the rivers and the wards, enjoying the variety of asari cuisine available.

"Moreau, what time's the movie gonna be?" Vega asked.

"Uh, in three hours," Joker replied.

"I managed to get into contact with Miranda and Jacob," Kasumi said excitedly. "They'll be here in right about… now."

And true to her word, the two former Cerberus Operatives arrived. They had forgone their body suits and arrived in formal clothing appropriate for the occasion. Taylor had a woman with him, Doctor Byrne Cole. Judging from the jewellery on their fingers, they were married or soon to be.

Jacob pulled out a seat for her, before sitting down next to Garrus.

"It is good to see you all again," Thane said. "But what of Zaeed, Tali, and Samara?"

"Last I heard, Zaeed was out on a contract," Vakarain said.

"Creator Tali'Zorah is unavailable as she is attending a summit with her people," Legion supplied. "Samara, I do not know."

The use of 'I' caused a few people to raise their eyebrows. But they ignored it and continued on with the party.

"Shame Shep couldn't be here," Kasumi said.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately she has to do some morale boosting every now and then," Joker sighed.

"Shepard has arrived at the hall," EDI said as she projected a live video feed above the table for everyone to see.

"Yeesh," Kasumi recoiled, "why would she wear that? I mean, I've seen her dresses and I can definitely vouch for her excellent tastes."

Miranda murmured in agreement.

"Her style would appeal to most tastes," Traynor said, "I believe she has satin-silk dresses."

Smaller conversations broke out across the table where people who have never met before, began to discuss what they knew about Shepard.

Thane smiled as he saw these people relax, and talk about a wonderful woman who was a gift to the galaxy. Yes, life was good. But then… the feed was cut by an explosion. All talking ceased, and eyes remained glued to the screen.

"Oh my god," Cole uttered.

"We need to get their now!" Garrus barked.

Without hesitation, everyone was on the move.

LI'SHIER HALL

"Chief!" Cortana cried. "John!"

The Spartan winced; he breathed in, but felt a fiery burn spread across his back. He had remembered Shepard walking to the balcony to get an iced drink, before he was knocked out by a powerful explosion. Staving off the shock and pain, John grabbed Cortana's hand and stood up from the rubble.

"You're armed right?" the AI asked.

He nodded, drawing a DEW sidearm. Cortana's platform had inbuilt offensive capabilities, she probably had the most firepower right now… probably. John swept his eyes across the torn surroundings and could see smouldering bodies everywhere.

"Spartan!' the Arbiter called out. Aside from his tattered cape, Thel seemed unharmed thanks to his armour. "Are you injured."

"No. Where's Shepard?"

"I don't know," the AI said. "Move to the balcony."

"Do you have a tag on her?"

"This place is faraday caged, I can't get a signal."

"Sound off!" a voice yelled, it was from an ODST.

An assortment of slurred cries and clear voices rang out. Medics and drones immediately went to prioritise casualties.

"Shepard!" John called.

No reply.

"Chief!" Adrian bellowed, "Palmer's been hit!"

Quickly the group swung round the central bar and found Palmer slump against the counter with a rebar through her stomach. Arca had torn off a segment of her chest to halt the bleeding.

"How is she?" John asked.

"She's going into shock," Gabriel answered, monitoring his former CO's vital via tacpad.

"Have you seen Shepard?"

"Shit, she's missing?" Riley swore.

John nodded. His eyes scanned across the hall just to be sure he hadn't missed anything.

"I last saw her going to the balcony," Palmer slurred.

"Check the Balcony, Arca, wait here until a medic arrives," the Spartan ordered.

"Got it," he turned his gaze back to Sarah. "Hey, just stay with me for a few minutes longer. Shit we're losing her."

"I'll got get a medic," Thorne said, running off.

John pushed towards the balcony, vaulting over any obstacle in his way. Upon leaving passing through the doors, he saw a number of people having been shot where they stood rather than harmed in the explosion. This was a coordinated attack, the Spartan began to fear for the worst.

"Jane!" he roared.

Still no reply. He felt his pulse rise, and his chest ache. Something was terribly wrong He turned his gaze skyward and could see the QRF and C-Sec arrive to set up a perimeter.

"Do you think she's been taken?" Cortana asked.

John felt his blood freeze over.

XXxxXX

"We're seeing a stark contrast in behaviour between senior and junior operatives. Juniors attempt to be normal or pretend to be at least, while Seniors are impersonal to extent of unnerving coldness. However, when amongst each other or those who they perceive to be their equal, there is a certain warmth and compassion. We usually see this when Operatives are around Spartan-IIs"
-Colonel Veronica Dare, assessing Acani Operatives.

XXxxXX

A/N: Well whaddya think guys? Please review… copiously and let me know.

Thanks.