A/N: It appears that the ideas in my head are yet to run out. This chapter ain't gonna be as long and action-packed as the last one, but even Mass Effect itself hasn't made a great story without some good old talking. Minus the ending of course. It was dogshit, and I plan to change it. Besides, this story is primarily of the carvins, and while moving the plot forward is important, so is filling the world you create, for it not to feel empty. Anyway, feel free to leave your opinion and any potential criticism in the reviews or PM me, as this really helps. That being said,

Enjoy!


Perseus Veil, Tikkun System, Migrant Fleet formation, Normandy Sr-2, Deck 2

After the rather eventful escapade to the geth dreadnought a few things happened. First of all, the departure of all quarian Admirals, except one who Virox heard was in somewhat close to Tali. She was also the most moderate of the four, which made sense, since the others didn't exactly make a good impression when staying for the first time. Of course, the only exception to the "departure" part was the peaceful Zaal'Koris who, as Virox remembered, crashed on Rannoch after being shot down by the planetary defense cannon. But both the jingoist and the tech overlord left shortly after Legion introduced himself.

It was somewhat funny to see the warmongering and usually bold (borderline stupid in Virox's opinion) Han'Gerrel stop dead in his tracks, as he saw Virox leaning on the glass wall of the meeting room. Virox deliberately put up a scary appearance, similar to the one he used when he wanted Zia and Nalik to do what he said. He didn't say anything, but it became quite difficult for him to keep the act, as Han'Gerrel's reaction was amusing to say the least.

Xen however was less than entertaining. While Gerrel left in silence, too scared to confront him, Xen approached Virox without any reservation. She was curious about his cybernetic implants and had the spine to ask him to... 'lend her' one of his limbs for examination. It was then that Virox's threatening act became his real approach. He disliked that particular Admiral, who clearly had dreams of megalomania, and warned her that one day someone else will treat her like a tool or a toy, and that he looks forward to that day. She shrugged it off and repeated her question, to which Virox responded saying that of course, but only if she survived his cough, unprotected by her suit. That did the job, and she left him alone.

Right now however, the only thing that Virox wanted to do was talk with Legion. They got along pretty well in the past (or at least he thought so), and he was curious what Legion has been doing after the Suicide Mission. After all, it was almost a year since they last talked normally, and the geth dreadnought wasn't exactly the best place to hold conversations.

Virox walked through the checkpoint, greeting the two marine women guarding it, and headed for the war room. When he entered, some of the Alliance crew looked at him with surprise. It was rare for them to see him here in particular, and for a good reason: he rarely visited Deck 2 at all, unless it concerned a mission. Nevertheless, he waved them as a 'hello' and scanned the room. Since Tali wasn't here, she was probably on Deck 4. Shepard was in the QEC room for some reason, and at the holotable was the quarian Admiral. Raan was her name if Virox remembered correctly. She was talking to someone over the comms, possibly her brethren back in the Fleet. And finally Legion, on the far left side of the room, doing something on one of the terminals.

"'Sup, Legion?" Virox approached the geth casually. "Got shot by anybody yet?"

"The word 'yet' implies that you expect it to happen." Legion stopped whatever he was doing and turned towards him. "Based on this, we question your peaceful approach."

"Okay, sorry 'bout that. What I meant was if you had any problems with anyone onboard." Virox clarified, already feeling nostalgic from this conversation.

"The creators' hostility towards this platform was understandable and expected. So were the reactions of the crew that did not interact with this platform in the past." Legion replied, as emotionlessly as he did back when they were with Cerberus. "But we did not encounter any troubles integrating, and this platform is capable to deploy at any moment, with 100% combat efficiency."

"Glad to hear it." Virox nodded, then decided to change topic. "How are you holding up? I mean... collaborating with the people that want your kind destroyed can't be easy."

Legion was silent for a moment, the panels on his head moving slightly as he thought of an answer. "We judge it necessary to end the Reaper control over the geth, and we view eliminating any geth platforms and programs that attempt to prevent us from doing so as justified."

"And what then? After the signal goes down?" Virox pressed on. He knew that Legion was conflicted, but wanted to hear his own thoughts on it.

"...we do not know. The geth didn't want to fight, and were forced to by circumstances. Should the creators show a legitimate desire for peace, the Consensus is ready to accept mutual coexistence." Legion spoke after another brief pause. "Otherwise, the conflict will continue, and it will very likely result in the extermination of either the geth or the quarian-creators."

"I'm assuming that in such an event, you would support the geth." Virox guessed, but seeing the conflicted geth, he added "I don't judge you by any means. It would be understandable. I would do that if I were you."

"The behavioral patterns of carvin-Virox rarely match any other observed organic behavior. We are skeptical of using this perspective as reference." Legion replied.

"You bastard." Virox smiled mentally, then shifted his gaze towards the quarian Admiral. He had seen her glowing eyes turn towards them several times during this conversation. "And what's your thought on this situation, Admiral?"

She looked surprised that he noticed her stealthy glances, and despite her desperate attempts to hide it, Virox was now definitely sure that she was observing and listening.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said, yet her tone betrayed her lie. Given that carvins were almost identical, all of them learned to detect even the slightest changes in behavior.

"Uh huh." Virox nodded sarcastically, clearly not convinced by her words. "Because those sneaky glances and eavesdropping is 'just a coincidence', considering the fact that you should be working. Now off with the bullshit."

"..." Raan clearly struggled to find words. "I just fail to understand your emotional attachment to this geth. It doesn't follow the Reapers, true, but how else does it make it different from its bretheren."

"You know, you can just ask. Oh wait, sorry, I just remembered that your people loathe even the slightest prospect of doing so." Virox said sarcastically. "Also, it's a 'HE' not an 'IT'."

"I was informed of your... mental condition by some of the crew. But I didn't expect this." Raan retorted.

"Oh now we're jumping to insults?" Virox made best effort to sound as offended as possible. "Real smooth. Low blow. How do you even live with yourself?"

And Legion just stood on the sidelines, observing this entire situation and collecting data. It seemed that this was indeed going back to the old days. No matter what form they used to describe him/it, Legion still could not comprehend the thought processes of Virox, now more than ever. Then again, this might've just been one of these things about organics and Virox in particular that would never cease to surprise Legion.


Angean Expanse, Roth system, Asteroid field, Quasar - ship of the STU Menace

There were a few advantages of being elevated to a Special Task Unit. First of all, own ship, which was already a huge step. This automatically increased the autonomy of the unit, allowing it to act more independently, and respond to crises without constant contact with a superior to approve. With the newly acquired freedom, Special Task Unit Menace managed to sortie more often than other similar units that lacked their own vessels.

Additionally, a full-sized crew, complete with an executive officer that could oversee any operations from the ship, a dedicated medical personnel, pilots that could be depended on while deploying on a sortie, made for increased social contact for the ex-members of the now disbanded Shadow Team. Fighting in a war, where every news you get is bad, can get to one's mind. Having trusted people to talk to makes up for this depressing atmosphere.

Phantom Leader finally started to understand the little things that made the Normandy crew so efficient, as he stared at the galaxy map with a canteen of water in hand. After getting something that even loosely resembled Shepard's ship and crew, the feeling of being dependable, and being able to depend on someone was very reassuring. And it seemed that the feeling was shared across all three squads, as well as Wraith, the Executor, that made up the bulk of the task force.

As Special Task Unit Menace, they sortied in areas and locations that would normally be off limits for any other force smaller than a full-sized army group, complimented by a full fledged assault fleet. Sabotage, supporting resistance, placing nukes below or inside Reaper transport or processor ships, all were a norm for them now. And danger associated with these tasks only added to the thrill.

Now normally, after a sortie or another type of mission, Menace would wait for a next assignment that usually came within a few hours from the Headquarters on Carvistorn. But after destroying Qreten, and by extent a large part of the Reaper assault force that was supposed to defeat the carvins, most of the action was now handled by the frontline units and rear echelon forces, trying to reinforce the outer systems, and evacuate the most endangered crucial worlds on the frontline. Menace was now sitting on their asses, doing absolutely nothing, or how the HQ put it, being "on stand-by".

They even sent a secure transmission to the Alliance Commander-In-Chief, Admiral Steven Hackett, with a request to aid their N7 teams in any potential operations. But even this was denied, as admiral feared some bad blood between the carvins and other races could appear, given their latest actions associated with Qreten. He did stress that it was nothing personal, but Phantom Leader managed to catch a subtle change in tone that indicated that it wasn't "nothing personal" at all.

"P-L, I have reviewed our supply status, as well as our combat readiness." Phantom Leader was suddenly approached from behind by his XO, Ferin Qi'Roon, codename 'Overseer'. The crew didn't usually use their names, rather callsigns as they were easier to use, and also because some of the more... controversial crewmembers have forgotten their real names.

P-L was an abbreviation of Phantom Leader's designation. And since there was little time for full designations, they replaced their original full callsign calling with these shorter versions for efficiency. It was actually Overseer's idea. He was a young little thing, but full of ideas and energetic. He usually acted as the team's eyes, delivering information at will during combat and providing suggestions based on orbital observations or other data.

"Thanks. I'll look over it in a while, but can you give it to me briefly now?" Phantom Leader asked.

Overseer straightened and nodded, with that weird emphasis on superior respect. "Assuming we will not partake in any major operations, our next resupply should occur in two weeks time."

A weak smile has appeared on Phantom Leader's face. He liked the kid's enthusiasm. "And what if we do actually sortie?"

"Well... it depends on the sortie number, and intensity of the mission. But it shouldn't be earlier than in 5 days." Overseer replied, a bit tense since his superior was giving him an important, but also a difficult question to answer. So many unknown variables.

"That's all I need. Dismissed." Phantom Leader ordered, and Overseer saluted then left with a dignified step.

When Phantom Leader was just about to take a sip from his canteen, when his earpiece came to life.

"Boss, we've got incoming transmission." Comm officer, codename 'Sound' spoke to him from his post.

"We finally may be getting an assignment." Phantom Leader thought, then pressed a button on his earpiece. "Who is it?"

"Alliance encryption, augmented with parts of Reaper-characteristic code." Sound replied. "It's definitely Normandy."

"Put them through. I'll be in the comm room in just a moment." his commander said and closed his canteen, with partial disappointment.

Recently, their contacts with Normandy Sr-2 were more frequent, whether it was to pass on the message from the higher-ups, to discuss Virox's mental state, or to simply exchange data and reports for reference. It was rarely to ask for real help though. However, according to Shepard, they were on the outskirts of the galaxy, in the Perseus Veil at the moment. And given the current situation in the region, there was little reason for him to call for their support.

For Normandy to be possible to contact them via QEC was a tad bit complicated. First their message went to the Alliance Fleet HQ near the Citadel. From there, using traditional means like comm buoys, the signal traveled to carvin detachment of the Citadel Defense Fleet, that in turn sent the signal to the Carvistorn HQ. And only from there did the QEC work. It was a lot of bridges and secondary channels, but at the very least it would make it difficult for Reaper programs to determine the sender and the receiver, as well as intercept the message, as all encryption from previous stages was retained.

Phantom Leader entered the QEC room, where Commander Shepard's holographic projection was already levitating, awaiting for a conversation. He walked onto the scanning platform, which took a moment to calibrate to his silhouette. When it was done, Phantom Leader finally looked right in Shepard's eyes. "Commander Shepard. Given your current location, I did not expect you to contact us. To what do we owe this sudden contact?"

"Since you understand my situation, I'll be brief." Shepard said, with an unreadable expression. After that, a projection of a planet appeared next to him. "My Comm Specialist has managed to acquire intel on a group of Cerberus defectors, who are now fleeing from Illusive Man's vengeful response. From what we can tell those are mostly scientists and technicians."

"And we are supposed to rescue them, isn't that right?" Phantom Leader asked, with a smile, but seeing Shepard's serious face, he quickly returned to his by-the-book approach. "Can we trust them?"

Shepard pressed something on his omni-tool, and the planet projection vanished, replaced instead by some written messages, likely Cerberus reports. "We managed to intercept some comm traffic regarding that specific group. A high-priority order came down from the Illusive Man himself to find these people and kill them, as they were one of the most skilled scientists of entire Cerberus. If they want them dead so badly, then I assume we're on the same side."

"A few extra eggheads wouldn't hurt, especially since you're building that... whatever unholy mechanical monstrosity that seems to eat up most of the resource stockpiles." Phantom Leader nodded in agreement. "Send us the coordinates. I'll quickly send a request for a permission to sortie to the Carvistorn HQ, as this planet is outside of our default AO."

As the coordinates came through, he sent the request from his omni-tool, attaching the supposed location of Cerberus scientists, then waited a moment for a reply. It took the Command no more than 15 seconds to send clearance for the mission, and Phantom Leader deactivated his omni-tool.

"We've got an approval and will head out immediately. If you have any additional data on our enemy or our targets, we'll happily take whatever you've got. You can never have too much intel." he said, earning a nod of appreciation from Shepard. "I'll send you a report after we're done."

"Glad to hear it. Shepard out." Commander replied and both his image and the Cerberus correspondences vanished shortly after.

While for an outside observer Phantom Leader may have appeared as composed as ever, on the inside his mind was screaming with joy and excitement. Being stuck on standby was bad for both morale and combat readiness. With a Special Task Unit such as Menace, constant action was essential to keep the crew committed. And now they got it.

"Overseer, this is Leader. Scramble the teams. We're deploying soon." Phantom Leader spoke to his personal comm device.

"Yes sir. I'll pass the message." Overseer answered, not even hiding enthusiasm in his voice. "By the way, where are we going?"

"To Gellix. A planet in Arrae system, Minos Wasteland." Phantom Leader said and already headed towards the elevator that would take him to the armory. "We're taking Wraith too. Have him prepare."

"Copy that." Overseer said and ended the connection.

Having left the QEC room, Phantom Leader almost immediately noticed the effects of his orders. The ship was put on high alert, and the crew movement was significantly increased. Chatter was greater, although more organized. While looking over the additional data received from the Normandy, he reached the elevator, that took him to the armory on the lower deck, where most of the team members have assembled. Phantom team was browsing through available assault rifles and shotguns, Smoke team picking out explosives and other equipment useful in manipulating the battlefield, while Assassin team stayed on the sidelines, having already picked their gear for sharpshooting role. Even Wraith was already there, observing everyone with that very same expressionless look.

When they saw him enter, all straightened up, and one of his squadmates from the Phantom team, P-2 approached him. "What's the plan, Boss? Some N7 guys finally accepted our help?"

"Yes and no." Phantom Leader replied, then turned on a holographic projection of Gellix from his omni-tool. "Commander Shepard has contacted us with a request to extract a group of ex-Cerberus scientists from this planet. Their exact numbers are unknown, but they are a high priority target." then seeing conflicted expressions of his subordinates he added "And yes, based on the intel we've got, which is quite good, we can trust them."

"Aw, I thought we'll be fighting Reapers." P-2 said, clearly disappointed. "Cerberus is no fun to fight against."

"Stop whining. At least they're smarter than Reaper husks, which spices things up. You're the one who likes easy prey, P-2." P-6 pointed out.

"Both of you, get your shit together, or I'll file a request for an elite disciplinary detachment to be stationed here!" Phantom Leader ordered with a stern voice. His threat had the desired effect, as all of them tensed up and went silent immediately.

Disciplinary detachments were a formation present in most frontline units, with at least one per regiment. They were composed from the biggest scumbags Carvin Military had: unsuccessful and bitter field commanders, reformed criminals, and reassigned drill sergeants. Their sole purpose was to instill discipline by their very presence or using other less peaceful means.

While on the surface they were just people looking for people to torment for fun, they were tightly regulated in what they could and couldn't do. Many of these guys were violently and harshly conditioned to be order keepers and not tyrants. Still, disobeying one of them during wartime was almost always equivalent to corporal punishment, trial by court martial, or reassignment to penal battalions, and having them around wasn't exactly pleasant. Member of these detachments earned a deserved reputation of being insensitive, cold, and merciless, but they did their job.

Phantom Leader sighed and returned back to the topic at hand. "We're getting these scientists out of there alive. Prepare for potential Cerberus presence. Should we meet them, they'll probably use an extensive array of support equipment so keep that in mind, Smoke Team. Explosives are mandatory."

"Understood." All Smokes nodded, visibly pleased with this allowance for some collateral damage.

"We won't reach our objective earlier than in an hour, so feel free to look over the data on the planet that Shepard had sent us, as well the newest info on Cerberus forces. We don't want any surprises." Phantom Leader ordered.

"What do we know about Gellix?" One of the Phantoms asked, and Phantom Leader brought up a hologram of the planet.

"A levo-amino world, contested by krogan and turians in the past. Later made into penal colony by the Alliance, but the prisons had terrible safety records. After that, some corporations came in and started to set up some facilities, but the planet itself has been largely forgotten after that. Probably what makes it such a good hideout." He explained, then deactivated the hologram.

"Any notable environmental hazards?" This time Assassin Leader joined in.

"Other that it's a bit colder than a usual garden world, no." Phantom Leader shook his head.

Everyone nodded their heads and either started gathering outside of the armory, or finishing packing their remaining equipment. After that was done, all three teams made their way to the hangar bay of the ship, where three of their designated shuttles were awaiting them. All three had extensive stealth capabilities, complete with both internal emission sinks, as well as active camouflage, a measure against visual detection.

Now all they had to do is wait.


Serpent Nebula, Widow, Citadel, Citadel Tower

After the attempted Cerberus coup, Zayan Te'Kraan became a very busy man. Having been interviewed more times than he could count from the top of his head, he was carefully trying to balance between the more staunch approach favored by his superiors back on Carvistorn, and the less aggressive way, more focused on intrigue and making connections with influential personas or groups to gain leverage on the Council. Both had their strengths and weaknesses.

The direct approach, favored by the High Generals was fitting and justified for one simple reason: war. Because of the need to act quickly, without the restrictions of red tape, carvins would put pressure on the Council to do things that were necessary, as they were either delusional, in denial, or just inexperienced with managing galactic affairs during a war such as this. The risk of this was approach was obvious though. Should carvins overstep their boundaries, and exceed the acceptable limit of pressure, a lot of the trust gained over the recent months would be undone, and any future attempts to convince the Council to do what was needed would be more difficult.

The alternative to that, while safer and easier in successful implementation, had a huge glaring weakness: it took time. Time that the galaxy didn't have. Zayan could put up multiple appearances, fitting for almost every type of meeting he held with people of interest, but for these measures to take effect, closer cooperation had to be established, and in some cases even guarantees of profit after the war, guarantees that he couldn't give them.

However now the Empire decided to go a step further, in a manner that would make the safer solution largely irrelevant, and could create a huge rift in relations between the carvins and the Citadel races. With the death of Donnel Udina, Council was robbed of one voice, and although human councilor was not the brightest in terms of managing the Citadel during war, he did one thing that was good and necessary: constantly push for more resources and assets to be contributed to the war effort. Whether that was just for the benefit of his species or not didn't matter. What did matter was the fact that this influence was now gone. High Generals wanted the carvins to fill the spot left by Udina. And that would require them to have a seat on the Council.

Zayan sighed, as the time of his next meeting with the Council was getting closer and closer. Asking... no, DEMANDING a Council seat in the time like this, especially since carvins were members of the galactic community for a little more than a year, was a bold and dangerous move. But at the very least, Carvin Empire had the means and strength to prove that they are equals with other Council races.

As he was looking over his influential contacts on the Citadel, a window opened up in the middle of his screen, reading 'INCOMING TRANSMISSION'. Zayan knew exactly what this meant. The High General Council was hailing him, except in this instance, they wanted to talk... in private.

He looked at his guards, and made sure they listened. "Lock the door, close the blinds. And make sure nobody's listening. Last thing we need is someone selling this conversation on the black market."

They complied swiftly, as one of them slammed the door lock and closed the blinds, while the other used a sophisticated scanner to check for any bugs, or worse, cloaked individuals. Fortunately, there appeared to be no danger for the security of this conversation, and after a moment, Zayan accepted the call and established connection. Holographic projector in the middle of the room displayed 4 carvin figures. High Generals themselves, on their seats, seemingly piercing him with their gazes.

"Ambassador." All of them said in a perfect unison.

"High Generals." Zayan replied, bowing his head a little, with a mixture of respect and fear. Never before did more than 2 High Generals contact him. "What is the reason for this... unexpected exchange?"

For ordinary citizens, High Generals were mighty but distant individuals. Everyone knew that it was them that ruled the Empire, but very few had met any of them in person, and even fewer could consider one their acquaintance. This made them look cold and at times terrifying, especially when they were as serious as they were now.

"There are several. But first, give us a brief report on your progress in swaying the Council to commit strategic and operational reserves, as well as Citadel industry and stockpiles to the Summit?" Indrigan spoke first.

"Yes sir." Ambassador saluted and brought up his list of contacts. "I have managed to form an agreement with representatives of Armax Arsenal, Elkoss Combine and Ariake Tech respectively that should they support our promotion to full membership of Citadel Council, we will vouch for huge tax exemption for them, as well as massive orders for military equipment from them specifically. In addition, thanks to our contact with the Shadow Broker, a volus economist Barla Von, provided us with some dirty data regarding the Citadel Bank, that we may exploit to gain leverage on the Council..."

"But?" The skeptic Kraytt had sensed nervousness in his voice.

"Most of the big conglomerates, especially those owned by the asari have openly voiced their protest, and threatened to liquidate their assets on Citadel, should we gain a seat in the Council." Zayan explained. "Apparently they see us trying to use this conflict to strengthen our position, calling us imperialists and backstabbers behind closed doors."

"Do not concern yourself with the asari. Their assets can be nationalized and confiscated, then returned to them after the war. We can also use their strategy against them, and accuse them of hampering the war effort and being responsible for the deaths of millions. This should shut them up." Tivennia dismissed his worry. "Soon, they will not have much of a choice to support us anyway."

"Pardon me, but I don't understand." Zayan said, clearly confused by that statement.

"Our intelligence says that despite the confusion created by Qreten, Reapers have begun restructuring and reorganization of their fleets. Their main focuses now shall be us, and the asari." Kraytt explained, then looked at the last of the 4 High Generals that was yet to speak. "Which brings us to our first point. Seviros, would you kindly?"

High General Seviros, sitting in his chair located on his flagship, the Relentless, had his hands clasped so far, with an expression that even Zayan, skilled in noticing and reading physical expressions of all organic races, could not read.

"Reports from our scouting flotillas and drones have indicated that Reaper forces have begun massing in two locations. Eagle Nebula and Hourglass Nebula, with a clear intent of striking into our territory. Reaper scouting parties have been spotted in the sections of the front where the distance to the Lexaant system was the smallest. This leads to one conclusion." He paused for a moment, as if trying to build up the tension. "They are coming to Carvistorn."

Zayan froze for a moment. Of course, the prospect of a Reaper attack on the carvin homeworld was known and considered by many, yet considering the Empire's location outside of the Mass Relay Network reach, it seemed distant to say the least.

"I... presume we will try to force the Reapers into a war of attrition, inflicting losses which they wouldn't be able to replenish once they are deep in our space." He tried a wild guess, hoping to at least partially get a grasp of how the High Generals wanted to go about all of this.

"Hardly. We're luring them in." Kraytt almost laughed.

This time, Zayan wasn't just surprised. He was utterly shocked, to the point that a seed of doubt took root in his mind. "With all due respect High Generals, but are you just going to let the Reapers fly into the orbit of Carvistorn and attack our homeworld?"

"Maybe not the way we would put it, but that's the general idea." Tivennia replied calmly, which only further increased the feeling that something was not right.

"Forgive me for this insubordination, but I would call you indoctrinated if I didn't know better." Zayan spoke with a shaky voice, as he was now treading on a thin line.

"Your concern is understandable, ambassador. No sane military commander would agree on something like this, even considering the circumstances." Seviros reassured him. "However, while seemingly unviable from a military standpoint, its strengths lie elsewhere. Mainly the economy, as we will be able to keep the Reapers occupied in our home system, while our industrial powerhouses will provide supplies and equipment to sustain the fighting. But there's also a... psychological advantage."

"A wild animal backed into a corner is infinitely more dangerous than the one that is not." Indrigan spoke with a calm voice. "Almost all species have their own variations of this saying, but the meaning is the same. And we WILL draw out the cornered animal out of every single carvin that still breathes. They will be conditioned to feel that loosing Carvistorn means loosing the war. Whether that is true or not is irrelevant."

"I see." Zayan said, scratching his lower jaw with his hand.

The plan, while risky and immoral in almost every way possible, had a visible chance of success. After all, Carvistorn, and by extent the entire Lexaant system, were the biggest fortress of the Carvin Empire. Entire system was filled with hidden fighter hangars, traps, defense stations and other means with the sole purpose of making any invader's life miserable. Carvistorn itself had a huge network of bunkers, MagLev trains connecting all continents while safely placed deep under the planet's surface, planetary defense emplacements, and huge stockpiles of light and heavy weaponry. All citizens, especially now, had personal weapons and passed lessons on guerrilla warfare. Reapers would surely find the planet extremely difficult to conquer and break. With the scars of the Great Grox War so deep, it was unanimously decided that no such thing would happen again. And the memories of that war would be brought back once the Reapers arrived, strengthening the carvin resolve.

"But that is not the main reason we have contacted you, although it ties to our next point, which is." Tivennia pulled Zayan out of his thoughts. "Your directive regarding the carvin approach towards the Council is shifted. We're not playing around anymore."

"You are to use the reports we've given you, as well as the data from Barla Von as a leverage for our ultimatum." Kraytt ordered, his sarcastic and almost playful tone completely gone. "Demand that we are at least temporarily elevated to a full membership, that can be surrendered after the end of the war, or the dirt on the Citadel Bank will go public. In addition we will liquidate all of our assets on the Citadel, close our embassy, and recall our detachment of the Citadel Defense Fleet to defend our territory from an impending Reaper attack."

"Yes sir..." Zayan saluted, although nervousness still lingered in his mind. "But are you sure that this ultimatum is the right choice? We could... no, we will antagonize most if not all of the species towards us."

"If Council wants stability at home, they will not risk our denial. And we need additional resources to fight anyway. If they will not commit their economic and industrial reserves to the war, we'll just take back what we committed to the Citadel." Indrigan replied, seemingly not sharing Zayan's worries. "And with our fleets gone, this will spark additional unrest, as Citadel will be all the more vulnerable."

"You are given a highest level clearance to order our private corporations and conglomerates to withdraw or liquidate all assets they possess on the Citadel in an instant, under threat of nationalization, should the Council decline." Tivennia said, and pressed a few buttons on her omni-tool. A few seconds later, Zayan's own omni-tool beeped, having received the message. "Present this ultimatum to the Council, ambassador. Preferably as quick as possible. That is an order."

"I will arrange a meeting for tomorrow morning immediately." Zayan nodded with compliance. "If they will not accept that time, I will bust into the Citadel Tower or their personal quarters by force."

As he uttered those words, he felt as if something inside him just died. His hearts became cold. Thoughts: merciless. Eyes: threatening. With the fading projections of the High Generals, the blinds were reopened once again, and light once again entered the room.

"Inform Captain Bailey that we ARE getting to the Citadel Tower tomorrow morning, regardless of whether the Council wants it or not." He ordered to his bodyguards. "I don't want to walk over his men's corpses to do so, should it come to a forceful approach."

He sat down to his computer once again, and quickly wrote a short yet still formal request for a meeting with the Council for the next day. To minimize the risk of refusal, he deliberately stressed the meeting to concern 'a matter of stability of Citadel and more'. Not a lie, but not complete truth either. Still, it was necessary for what he was supposed to do.

And he would do it, regardless of personal consequences.


Sagittarius Star Cloud, Lexaant system, Carvistorn, Travalaan, Urban district 5, Or'Zaal apartment

When the invitations came, Zia didn't know what to say, let alone what to do. Even by carvin standards she was just a child, no different than her younger brother. And yet they were both invited to join the most elite frontline formation of the Carvin Empire. Not as reserves, but as regulars. It was truly something else, even considering the fact that she took a therapy and then a course in biotics as a 3 year old.

The invitation in question was from what became of the Unity Division, a project started by High Generals in order to create a symbol of carvin unity. But right now given its initial successes, both combat and propaganda-related, it was expanded to a full-sized corp. At the moment it was made up from 1 orbital assault division, 2 armored divisions, 1 mechanized infantry division, an air support detachment, and a set of other support companies.

At first carvin High Command wanted them to only engage in battles that had a huge chance of success, so that they make a good propaganda material. But the division, and later corp command risked demotion several times while disobeying orders not to engage. They spearheaded ground assaults and once even managed to weaken a Reaper destroyer enough for bombers to destroy it. After that they re-branded themselves as the Stormtroopers, first ones to fight in any combat they were to participate in. Right now they were garrisoned on Carvistorn.

As Zia was packing her necessary belongings for transfer to the Stormtrooper Corp while already geared up, suddenly her door opened with a loud bang, and Nalik stood there, panting heavily.

"Do you know what time it is, sis?" He asked her between deep breaths.

Zia looked at her clock and was horrified. "It's-"

"Exactly 11 minutes until we're supposed to report to the unit!" Nalik interrupted her, looking at her with nothing short of anger and contempt. "Is that pillow really necessary?"

"Shut up." Zia grumbled and quickly zipped her suitcase, then put on her backpack and darted out of the room.

Both of them quickly ran downstairs and looked around for the last time. It was pretty plausible that they wouldn't return here anytime soon, if at all. Uncle Virox warned them numerous times about the dangers, but they could see that he was somewhat proud of them. They just wished he could see them now. Even their mother was at work right now, tending to the few wounded that were brought on the planet, as well as keeping an eye on their father.

"We should go." Nalik said, while pulling her hand.

"Yeah... we should." Zia nodded, trying to hide her emotions from her younger brother. After all, she was supposed to be the tough one out of the two of them.

After a brief moment, they left the apartment and made their way down to the exit. From there they took a taxi to the garrison, and managed to make it to the entrance just two minutes before they were to report to their superiors. The garrison itself was guarded, but that didn't stop people from entering and leaving at will, all passing through control though.

They examined the direction signs, and saw the one reading 'reinforcements and logistics'. Not exactly say what they expected, but it was more sound than any other option they saw, so they headed there. After all, they were... kind of reinforcements?

While they walked, passing the seasoned soldiers and support staff, they could almost physically feel the tension in the air. Everyone was serious, saying only things that needed to be said. For a moment, Zia was scared that she wouldn't exactly fit there with her more... loose approach to language. She rid herself of these thoughts after a moment, as they approached one of the officers who was seemingly tasked with logistics.

"Excuse me sir." Zia said, trying to grab his attention. "We have been... invited I guess, to join this unit as reinforcements, and we want to finish transferring. Can you tell us where to go?"

The officer looked at them, with a visibly doubtful expression. "Really? Show me these 'invitations'."

Zia complied and displayed the messages sent to them by the corp command. He looked at it briefly, his eyes widened slightly, but enough to indicate surprise, then checked something on his computer, and finally turned back towards them.

"You've been assigned to the 78th Orbital Assault Division, . Go to the barracks 27. Far northwest of the garrison, building left of the landing pad. Take your belongings there too." He said and gave her an identity card, then looked at Nalik and did the same. "As for your brother, it's Combat Engineers detachment of 103rd Armored Division, barracks 09. It's closer, just two barrack rows behind me. You'll recognize it by all the machinery and equipment surrounding it."

"Thank you, sir." Both of them replied with gratitude.

"Oh don't thank me. You're up for some gruesome stuff. Not my idea to conscript children anyway." He shrugged, then returned to what he was doing.

The carvin siblings took their suitcases and looked at each other with thoughtful expressions.

"This is it." Nalik finally broke the silence. "Watch yourself out there, sis."

"You too, bro." Zia replied, trying to hold back tears. "You too."

After that they looked away and walked towards their respective destinations, trying to not look back. This was their life now and they have committed to it. It was time to reap what they've sown.

A few minutes later Zia reached the barracks that the officer was talking about. A simple, utilitarian building, meant for strictly military purposes. There was nothing that indicated any form of artistic expression present when designing it. When she walked through the door, a VI drone scanned her ID card, then a room number, alongside a service number, rank, and unit have appeared on it.

Shortly after that, Zia made her way to where she was supposed to stay. It was a small room, with four beds, a table, and a bathroom. Not even a window was provided. There were some things already lying around, indicating that somebody was already living here, but it didn't matter. They were gone now, which meant that they either had an assignment or were just off duty. Trying to not waste time, she left her suitcase next to the door inside, then left. But as she was walking through tight corridors of the barracks, she realized something: she didn't know what to do now.

"Okay, maybe asking around like back at the 'reinforcements and logistics' will do the trick." She thought to herself, then approached two soldiers leaning on the wall and chatting. "Um... I'm sorry. I've been transferred here as a reinforcement, a biotic vanguard. Apparently I'm a part of 2nd platoon. But I don't exactly know what should I do with myself. Could you direct me to my superior?"

She then showed her ID card to them. Both soldiers looked at the card, then at each other. "Oh boy..."

"What? You've got a problem with me?" Zia asked, raising her voice. She was convinced that her appearance somewhat amused them.

"Wha... no! We don't. But you're in trouble... Big trouble." One of them said, with a quieter and lower tone.

"What do you mean?" She couldn't hide her confusion. There was apparently something that she didn't know, but was supposed to.

"All of the reinforcements are undergoing inspection. Right. Now." The second soldier explained. "And the Devil is leading it."

"Devil?" Zia's disorientation only grew with every second.

"Commander of the disciplinary detachment. Biggest piece of shit you'll find in the entire corp." First soldier explained, not even hiding fear in his voice. "You have to run and get inspected, otherwise it's a labor camp for you. Or worse."

"Go through that hallway." His friend directed her, pointing at the path next to him. "Turn left when you reach the first door, then go all the way 'till the end, and leave through the emergency exit door. It's the quickest way."

"Thank you. I... uh, I'll better get going." Zia said, and waved goodbye to the soldiers, then followed the directions they've given her.

It wasn't long before she reached her destination. The emergency exit was seemingly not rigged with alarms, should anyone use it. She gently pushed the 'open' button and ran outside, only to bump into someone's back. Someone far larger than her.

She fell down, and looked up. To her eyes was revealed a huge figure, almost certainly a brute. Whoever it was, they turned around and looked at her with what Zia could only describe as pure anger. The soldier grabbed a shock baton from his belt and activated it, but before the situation could escalate another silhouette appeared in the corner of Zia's eye. She turned around and saw the one, who the soldiers must have called 'Devil'.

The carvin approached her, and Zia took a short but good look at him. He was even larger than the one she bumped into, and had a missing left arm, along with a big chunk of flesh where the shoulder used to be. Now it was all covered in armor. His left eye was almost completely white. The sound of his steps were almost echoing through her skull. But in an almost caring way, he kneeled down beside her, while dismissing his colleagues.

"Are you lost?" He asked, his voice bearing hints of genuine concern.

"Uh, no. I actua-GAH!" She didn't get to finish, as the caring expression vanished in an instant, and he grabbed her by the neck.

Next thing she knew, Zia was thrown onto the ground behind the 'Devil', hitting the metallic ground with a loud *BANG*. The impact stunned her for a moment, but she could see a few rows of recruits looking at her. And in their eyes was fear. Then the roar from behind her though brought Zia back to reality completely.

"You are late exactly 7 minutes and 28 seconds, you scum!" Devil walked towards her, taking big steps, and when she tried to get up, he stepped on her leg, then activated his knuckle blades and brought them to her throat. "What is your excuse?"

Trying not to move her throat in a way that would push her skin onto the blades, Zia replied with "No excuse, sir."

"I see." He said, then retracted his blades and removed his foot from the top of her leg.

Zia let out a sigh of relief, and tried to stand up once again. She was almost on her feet, when Devil turned around unexpectedly and slapped her in the face with full force of his remaining arm. The impact was so strong, that Zia stumbled back onto the ground, grabbing her jaws. From how the unbearable the pain was, she could swear that they were broken. But the pain did not dull her senses, as she heard the voice coming from nearby.

"This is how I'll be punishing insubordination, you miserable lot!" It was Devil's voice, but he wasn't talking to her... rather to the recruits. "If I don't see your sorry asses where they should be, I will drag them through the entire garrison and kick you out myself!" he then looked back at her and grabbed her by the throat. "Get up and join the line."

Zia could feel the strength in that one arm, as he lifted her up and placed her on her legs. She fought the immense desire to biotically warp that bastard out of existence, but she knew that doing that would mean court martial... or worse. For now she had to stomach it, and so she did. Standing in the first row alongside other recruits, who were mostly higher than her, she watched as Devil walked around, looking at the terrified faces of the fresh reinforcements. He used his remaining hand to inspect their jaws, grabbing them and squeezing, as if trying to make the ones he inspected scream. But nobody did. Even Zia held firmly, as he seemingly tried to crush her jaws, knowing perfectly well that they were either broken or severely bruised.

"Alright, listen up! While the High Command does not want to deploy us anywhere anytime soon, this won't mean you're just gonna do yourself a hanar tea party, doing jackshit until they send us somewhere!" He shouted, as he finished his inspection. "They'll be taking you lot to a combat sim tomorrow, to check if you're actually capable of working together. If I'll hear at least one complain from your superiors, I will rip off each and every one of your mechanic limbs and feed them to you! Do you understand!?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The entire group called out in unison.

"Bullshit, I can't hear you! Sound off like you're carvins, not anemic volus!" Devil yelled.

"SIR, YES SIR!" Everyone yelled back.

"Good." Devil looked at them with visible irritation. "You're lucky I have other battalions to check. Dismissed."

As those words escaped his mouth, every single soldier let out a huge sigh of relief. It seemed that the stress associated with Devil's inspection was mutually shared between the reinforcements. Zia was just glad that he wasn't hitting her in the face anymore, as she could feel the pain heavily pulsating in her right and lower jaw. Though given her attitude, she doubted it was the last confrontation of the sort.

But instead of worrying about that, Zia shrugged it off and headed back towards the barracks entrance. The anger inside her was seemingly dissolving. After all, she couldn't judge the entire formation by the less... pleasant elements. It would be unfair to the people who legitimately cared and cooperated in order to achieve their objectives.

Making her way to the entrance, she noticed a few individuals sitting and standing around it. The moment they noticed her though, all of their eyes focused on her. Trying not to get any unnecessary attention, Zia attempted to walk past them and get back to her room, but then one of her observers stood up, followed by two of their colleagues.

"Well well well. Not a reaction I'd expect from a kid after being beaten up by Devil." It was a male soldier. He wasn't exactly blocking her way, but Zia knew that he wouldn't just let her go.

"What do you mean? What did you expect?" She asked while doing her best to conceal her emotions.

"Mostly crying, running away, or worse: fighting back." He said nonchalantly.

"What Phase means is that even seasoned soldiers are often pushed past their limit by the Devil." A more feminine voice called from behind. "I'm impressed that you resisted the temptations."

"What do you want?" Zia asked. Back at the inspection, it was anger that dominated. Now it was fear, because there were three of them, and she was alone.

"To congratulate you of course. Few people of your age managed to remain calm when put in a situation like that around here. Those that didn't are all dead." The final member of the group, and ironically the least imposing one spoke from behind her. Zia turned around, only to see him extending his hand to her. "And having you in a squad will definitely not be regrettable."

"Uh... what?" The previous confusion returned to her.

"You're our reinforcement, aren't you? The one that left the suitcase in the room 31?" The female soldier asked, and Zia nodded, as the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. "Well then. Welcome to the team. Let us show you around."

And it was in that moment that Zia finally felt like she was starting to belong here. Being led by those three soldiers, all of them emanating a faint but detectable biotic energy, she found her sense of belonging.

"Wish you could see this, mom. And you dad. And you, uncle Virox." She thought, as one singular tear flew down her cheek.

A/N: Done. Next chapter covering the Quarian Arc almost exclusively. And since I'm back on my feet when it comes to the upload schedule, we may even have this story over by Christmas. Carry on!

Bonker out!