"How'd this thing even get here?" Kaiden asked. His best guess was that it belonged to some terrorist organization, but in this line of work, the simplest answer was not often the correct one.

Shepard let out a short, cruel laugh. "They told me to say it was stolen by pirates."

"I'm guessing that's not what happened."

"Nope. According to Hackett, they strapped nukes to all their spy probes during the first contact war. He said they didn't want their equipment to be caught. Except, after the war ended, some probes were never recovered. The one we're after just started blinking back home again."

"Your disregard for alliance secrets is… understandable".

"Ya." But his "ya" had been sarcastic. Some things were best left buried, and even though they might one day rise up again to destroy you, at least you could make do with the time you had until then.

"Stop the Mako, the signal's close," Tali informed him. He gently applied the brakes and the Mako ground to a halt. Shepard put the vehicle in park.

"Alright, let's go." He'd only brought the techs so they could safely disarm the nuke. And himself, so he could supervise the mission, even though he was completely useless for this kind of thing.

John stood from his seat and crawled through the top hatch of the Mako. He jumped down, landing in the red soil. His head turned from left to right and back to left again as he searched for the probe. "Where is this thing?" he asked in frustration.

Tali and Kaiden joined him on the surface of the Mars-like planet. Their silence was immensely annoying. "Well?" he inquired again.

Tali brought her omnitool closer to her mask so she could make sure she was reading it clearly. "It's…it's saying it's underground. In that mineshaft, over there." She pointed towards the mountain and one small entrance that he'd neglected to catch.

"How the hell did it get underground?" Kaiden asked.

Shepard reached for his shotgun. Not holding it, he felt out of place. Now, he had a reason to clutch it like no tomorrow. This thing had been like a brother to him, more dependable than any person had ever been; it had been with him in his greatest moments, in his worst, and even when he was close to death. It never left him; now, he needed it again. "Someone moved it. Someone," he groaned, "is here."


The cavern was eerie. Moisture dripped off of the walls and pooled on the floor. He knew he was probably walking into a trap, but there was no other way to find this thing. As soon as the door to this mineshaft had opened, a pit had started to form in his stomach. The lights were still on, dull brown orbs haphazardly hung from the ceiling, wires running between them. He wasn't afraid of the scary shadows the lights would cast; no, he was afraid of what the lights meant: that somebody was here.

He'd long ago dropped the nonchalant façade he had when he'd landed on this planet; he'd forgotten his hatred of Hackett for giving him such a stupid mission. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, if only out of anticipation. Tali was behind him, directing him to turn left or right through the winding passageways of this cave. It probably would have been easier if she had taken the front and led the way, but he couldn't allow that. She was still new at this, and he would rather have her die for any reason other than his laziness.

Shepard was beginning to regret not bringing the whole team, but it was too late for that now. Unless it was an entire army, Shepard could probably take them; at least that's what he told himself.

He crouched so he could fit through the short passageway ahead of him. He passed through, crawling on his hands and knees. At its end, he exited through circular metal doors. He could only imagine the unbelievable pain he would feel if the doors had decided to close and cut him in half.

The room was a dead end. A lamp post stood in one corner of the room, holding up a light. In the other, he could see a long, rectangular shape; it was metallic; it must be the nuke they had been looking for.

"That's definitely it" quipped Tali.

"Get that thing and let's get the hell out of-"

A loud, thunderous roar shook the cavern. Dust rained down from the ceiling. For a second, he could have sworn they were going to be buried alive. It probably would have been a slow, painful death given that he was protected in his armor, and he most likely would have died out of suffocation. So he let out a sigh of relief when the dust settled and the trembling of the ground stopped.

They needed to get out of here, as they were in danger. Shepard turned to face the way that they had entered, only to find it locked. "Shit."

A pillar of orange light now illuminated the center of the room. Initially, he couldn't tell what it was, but the light gradually formed into the figure of a man. This was a projection.

"Shepard," snarled the image of the man that stood before him. The hate in his voice was immeasurable. "At last."

"I don't believe I know you," Shepard replied, a sarcastic tone on his voice. He could now put a face to the enemy.

"My name is Elanos Haliat, although you probably don't know it."

"I don't fucking know you, nor do I care about you. What the fuck do you want?" Shepard pointed his shotgun at the aberration, even though it was useless to do so. Instincts were hard to shake off.

"Who do you think runs the Terminus Clans, Shepard? Hm? Thousands of pirates, slavers, criminals of every stripe?"

"Probably an asshole like you."

Haliat's face contorted into an angry mask; Shepard was adding insult onto injury, even though he did not yet know it. "It's the one who creates the most profit, loots the most ships, pillages and sacks the most colonies."

Shepard started to chuckle humorously, his shoulders rising and falling. "And what am I supposed to do with this information. Come out there and kill you? Because that's what I do to people like you." Kaiden and Tali could only watch the interaction between the commander and this mysterious figure. It was clear that they hated each other; this confrontation would end violently, there was no question about it.

"I'm only here to give you something that was coming to you for a long, long time." Hatred dripped off his words.

Yet Shepard was genuinely confused. He didn't know this man, nor did he know what he did to make him this upset. However, Shepard couldn't deny that Haliat's grudge was probably real. Just because Shepard didn't remember didn't mean that Shepard hadn't done something to piss this man off. It was more likely than not; he had hurt so many people over the years. "Just spit it out, already."

"A decade ago, I was the man who ran the Terminus clans. I had plotted the largest and most ambitious plan yet. All that was taken away from me when I failed; I was blamed, all because of you."

Shepard felt something in his chest. Emotions came back to him, memories of that day, the faces of the people who he was supposed to protect but failed, innocent people dying back when it still affected him. "It was…you. You attacked the colony…Elysium," he whispered.

One man had saved Elysium: John Shepard. Kaiden didn't know the commander back then, but he could remember seeing him in the newscasts after the attack. Kaiden saw how they held him up as a hero and gave him medals, made him smile for the cameras; except if you looked closely enough, you could tell the smile was fake. And when they tried to make him speak during interviews, he was a man of few words because he was lost and didn't know what to think. They paraded a broken man around, telling him he was the epitome of glory, even though he was dying inside. To feel so shitty when people were telling you that you should feel so good? It would drive a man to the brink of madness. Now Kaiden got to see the end results, what happened to the man after the universe had destroyed him, taking everything and leaving him empty inside.

"Indeed I did, and it was all in vain because of you, Shepard."

"You came here to admit… to The Butcher of Torfan," he said, choosing that name over what they had called him in the news, The Savior of Elysium, "that you're responsible for the attack on Elysium." Shepard started to roar in laughter, much to the silent horror of his teammates. But John couldn't help it, he found the situation so peculiar and odd. "I'm going to kill you, now."

Haliat shook his head in disgust. He and the commander, they were very different people. They might often have similar ends, which was killing, but the means were very different. Haliat was a planner; he preferred to predict his enemy's every move, counter them, and defeat them, whether in space, the battlefield, or in the slums. Shepard was very different; he was emotional and impulsive, the remnants of a child, which ironically enough was something he never really was. He lacked creativity, originality, and nuance; he was like the barbarians of old who would rush into battle with bloodlust.

Shepard had fallen into his trap, just as he had planned; it was a simple matter of pushing a button now. But what fun was defeating your enemy without toying with them? "Your words ring hollow commander. You're trapped down here, and you will die down here as well. I regret to say that we will not be meeting in person."

"I have one of the most advanced alliance warships in orbit, staffed with some of the most skilled soldiers in the galaxy. My crew will come for us," Shepard replied defiantly. He wasn't scared about his life so much as he was scared for the lives of the people with him. They didn't deserve to die, and they definitely didn't deserve to die because of his past catching up with him.

"This cave is laced with heavy metals. Your suits radios won't reach them, and even when they realize you haven't made contact, they won't know the first place to look for you." A smug grin spread across Haliat's face.

Shepard tried to call the Normandy on his comms, but to no result. "Normandy, do you copy? Normandy?"

"An alliance warship will make a fine prize as well, I suppose. Goodbye, commander. It's been nice talking to you." The projection winked out.

"If he thinks a fucking cave is going to kill me, he has another thing coming. Get those doors open, now!" Shepard ordered.

A low whine started to reverberate around the room. At first, he couldn't tell where it came from, but as it got louder, the source became abundantly clear. "Oh god…" Shepard mumbled. He wanted to scream it, but the gravity of the situation was too immense: he was going to be taken out by a fucking nuclear bomb. In a way, it was fitting to go out in such a grand explosion.

He stood there like a statue, inept and helpless to resolve the situation before him. Kaiden and Tali had already jumped into action to try and disarm the nuke, and a small part of Shepard admired the duo, both for their skills and their optimism, for these were things he didn't have. Yet he couldn't help but feel consumed by guilt. They would die in a tremendous explosion; none of them would feel pain, it would be instantaneous; but two people, two good people who didn't have to be here for any other reason than because he had asked them to, would die. He didn't speak to them often, but from what he could observe, he knew that they shouldn't go out like this. Except Shepard couldn't do anything; he didn't know the first thing about unlocking a door, let alone disarming a nuke. He could not help them, even though he wanted to. He yet again found himself helpless and having to depend upon others, like a toddler.


Haliat watched the seconds tick down on his omnitool. 30, 29, 28, 27, 26… With each second that passed, the anticipation rose. He had waited so long for this moment, waited so long to ruin the man that had ruined him.

He had worked hard to ascend the ranks of the Terminus clans. His background was not that different from Shepard; he grew up poor and without an education. He used to be afraid. Yet he fought and struggled and clawed his way up the ranks until he wasn't afraid anymore; people became afraid of him, afraid of the power he had. He was destined for glory and power. But in one fell swoop, it had been robbed from him; he was blamed for the failure; he had been kicked out and cast aside.

25, 24, 23, 22, 21…

He remembered taking the fall for the failure and watching Shepard and other soldiers being praised. Praised for what, protecting a bunch of lifeless drones who did the bidding of what their government told them to do?

20, 19, 18, 17, 16…

After the Blitz, Haliat yet again found himself with nothing to his name, reviled by those around him for his mistakes. He'd spent all the years afterward rebuilding himself, trying to reclaim the glory and prestige from before Elysium. A decade later, he had gotten some of his old life back, but he was still a shadow of his former self.

15, 14, 13, 12, 11… And while Haliat struggled to regain what he had lost, Shepard had been patted on the back. He was now a spectre, riding high on an alliance warship of his own command. What better way to regain his name than to kill humanity's first and only spectre, their 'hero.'

10, 9, 8, 7, 6… It didn't matter that Shepard had brought some extra soldiers with him; it wouldn't change his fate. Shepard would die here, by his hand. The others would just be collateral damage; it would serve as their punishment for deciding to aid Shepard. Besides, one of them was a quarian. The mere thought of having such a disgusting animal on his ship made him cringe. He internally questioned why Shepard had bothered to let her on his ship, but it soon wouldn't matter.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1… A wicked grin spread across his face as the final seconds on the timer ticked away. His men had told him that they should just leave already. They had asked what the point was of waiting for the bomb to go off. He waited because it was important to see a task through, to the end. What kind of man would he be if he walked away before he faced the results of his works? He was no coward. Besides, the nuke was far enough underground that the blast wouldn't affect them, except maybe a small tremor. It was stupid of the alliance to have sent out nuclear weapons with these probes when a simple bomb would have sufficed, but at least they weren't crazy enough to put really big nukes.

0. The timer reached the final number. Zero was a funny number. It was something that stood for nothing. But it was fitting for Commander Shepard, who was about to be blown to smithereens. All that would be left was the memory of the man. He waited with anticipation, waited for the ground beneath his feet to start shaking and trembling. He waited and waited and waited. Nothing happened. "Which one of you was in charge of setting up that nuke!" he roared.

A meek, young engineer step forward. Haliat berated him, demanding a reason for why the nuke had not detonated. The engineer tried to explain that the trigger mechanism was relatively simple, that it should have gone off, that the nuke not blowing up was not his fault. Haliat waived him off, told him to go back and do whatever he was doing. The engineer turned around, headed back to his place leaning beside the Mako they had stolen.

He ordered the rest of his men to get into their vehicles. They would go to the site and finish off Shepard in person.


They arrived at the site of the mine. The mountain that stood over it remained, a visual confirmation of what most had already known: the nuke had not gone off. The mercenaries and ex-soldiers gripped their weapons with fear. The plan was to kill Shepard with a nuke while they were far away from danger; that was what Haliat had told them when he'd asked for some men to follow him, and the only reason any had bothered to join him at all. They all had known who their target would be: Council Spectre and Alliance Commander John Shepard. Except Haliat's plan had failed. Now they would have to face down the Commander on the battlefield.

They had heard the stories and rumors about this man; they had heard that he wasn't a man but a devil. The batarian's they would sometimes work with spoke of Shepard; they had a special name for him: Butcher. When asked why he was called that, they were told stories that sounded too impossible to believe. He would turn the tide of battles. He would survive the bloodiest of missions. He would kill pirates and the innocent alike, which was a testament to the fact that he was no normal soldier. They weren't sure which stories were hyperbole or fact. And as if it wasn't bad enough already, John Shepard had been given a position as a council spectre. This was the man they were about to fight, and not a single person in Haliat's company could say they did not have reservations about this mission.

Some of the warriors reverted to their nervous habits: sweat-filled brows, the tapping of feet, the rubbing of hands and forearms, paleness, and the rapid beating of hearts, among others. These were grown adults who'd served as soldiers, mercenaries, and assassins for years, and sometimes, even decades. They had the disturbing feeling that they were about to die for someone else's personal vendetta.

The humans were particularly afraid. This was supposed to be their guy, the one who would be watching out for humans in the galaxy. They had tried to kill him. Now, he would surely try to kill them if he wasn't dead already.

They exited their vehicles, both the troop carrier they had arrived with and the Mako they had stolen. All was silent except for the howling of the wind. They might be nervous, but they were still skilled fighters. They began to fan out in groups of two or three, looking for fresh tracks in the ground or scanning the hillside.

Seeing nothing, they decided that Shepard could only be in one place: inside the cave. Haliat ordered half his men to search the underground labyrinth.

"Boss, that's a bad idea."

"Are you crazy? He could be in there."

"It's a trap." How the roles had reversed on them.

"There are only three of them, three!" Haliat was disgusted with his crew. He'd never seen so much hesitation, so much weakness and fear, and most of it from the humans, his own kind.

Yet some of the handful of Krogan seamed all too happy to go into the cave. It was their moment to prove their glory and kill the legend. Yet they could never realize that in their quest to look the strongest, their dying race had been turned into cannon-fodder. Some of the turians, and a single human, followed the krogan.


The entrance to the mineshaft was not lit with the orange glow of light that had been there before. Now, its black entrance was like a void that contrasted against the red rock that surrounded it. They turned on their flashlights, steeled their nerves, and raised their weapons in front of them. They entered the cave.

They never thought that they would be back here. This place should have been obliterated. Yet here they were.

"Have you found him yet?" It was Haliat, impatiently asking for a status update.

"Nothing. The lights have been turned off, though. I don't think this is a good idea." They so badly wanted to mutiny but there would be no backing out. They had reputations too, reputations that they needed to keep if they wanted to work.

"You're the one who wants him. Why don't you come down here?"

"Search the whole damn thing," Haliat replied. He wouldn't even dignify that question. If these men had done their jobs properly, there wouldn't have been a problem.

Once the entire team was inside the mineshaft, they began to explore its dark rooms and passages. This place was a maze, and their fears were only comforted by the fact that there were so many of them.


Haliat and the remaining half of his team remained on the surface, ready for a fight, waiting for their target. A glint in the distance caught his eye; he turned his head to examine what his eyes had seen. Three tiny specs, up on the mountain. Haliat raised his rifle, using his scope to take a closer look. The specks, under magnification, were no longer specs. They were three bodies; a standard armored helmet, a purple mask, and a red-black helmet. Shit.

"Shepard's not in the cave, get the hell out of there," he yelled into the comms. Static was his reply. They were probably so deep underground now that the heavy metals he had once ago boasted about were now a hindrance. Forget them. "He's on the mountain, Shepard's on top of the god damn mountain!"


They had searched every room, every nook and cranny, and under every rock. They were not here.

One of the troops tried to radio Haliat and provide him with an update. "Boss, this place is clear." He waited and waited and waited for a reply, except none came. So he tried again. "Haliat? Do you read me, Shepard's not down here." If he's not down here, then he could only be up there.

The comms still silent, he gave up with a shrug. He turned to the mercenaries with him. "He is not fucking responding. I'd say let's get the hell out of here."

The others agreed and began to file out of the last room they had searched.

The sound of screeching metal echoed throughout the cave. They all jumped, rifles raised, pointing their flashlights every which way, trying to find what had made such a sound. They renewed their efforts to leave and started running, tripping up on rocks along the way. They reached a dead-end, although it shouldn't have been. This corner of the room had led to a passageway which, ten minutes ago, had brought them here. Their frenzied minds slowly started to piece together why that passageway no longer existed. The sound of screeching metal came from one of the circular doors in this cave. The door was blocking their escape because it had closed.

"We need a tech!"


Haliat pointed at the mountain, trying to get his men to fire. Haliat gave up trying to show them and started firing with his rifle. Yet the gun he carried was ill-suited for the range they were at. Most of the rounds never hit their mark, and the few that did harmlessly bounced off their shields.

Some of his men were finally able to locate Shepard's team on the hill. A sniper stepped forward and got on one knee, preparing to fire her massive gun. She breathed deeply and looked through the scope of her rifle, aiming her weapon at the target.

Snipers, despite the craziness of the battle around them, were supposed to stay calm; the smallest movement, even a heartbeat, could throw off their shot. This fact made it very difficult for her to line up the shot because she was basically staring down the magnified barrel of an opposing enemy sniper. Panic gripped her, the fear of death overwhelming; she knew that if she didn't fire first or her shot missed, she could die. She tried to steady her hands as best she could as she squeezed down on the trigger. The weapon rocked against her shoulder, and a deafening crack echoed around them.

She looked through her scope again to see if she had succeeded or failed. The man she had fired at, who she assumed was the commander, was still there. His weapon was too. She pressed down on the trigger again, but her weapon yelped back at her, still too hot to fire.

The last thing she saw was the opposing sniper. His weapon was not very different from hers: a scope, a long barrel, and a trigger. The recipe of what made a good sniper rifle was pretty much constant. Half of the commander's armored helm was blocked by the scope he looked through, but enough remained for her to make out the image painted on it: a skull. He stood up on the mountain, and his body language was almost saying 'now my turn.'

She knew perfectly well who his target would be: the only person who could threaten him at this range: her. She jumped to the side, but she was too late. The heavy round, having been fired from an elevated angle, hit her in the chest and smashed her body to the ground. Her screams were cut short as blood filled her lungs.

The other mercs were horrified. There were now nine of them; the others were still underground and couldn't be reached. They ducked for cover behind anything they could find: rocks and boulders, the vehicle they had brought, even each other. In the frenzy, another one of them was nailed in the thigh.

"Kill him already!" Haliat screamed, even as he too ran for cover. His options were being taken away by the second. He called the frigate that had brought him here. It was an old, rusting alliance warship from long ago. "I need air support, immediately! Bring the gunships." He knew it was a mistake. Shepard was no longer in the cave; he could easily call the Normandy and shoot his ship down.

One of his mercs popped up from behind cover, peppering the hillside with rounds. His head was blown off a second later. The body stood there, leaning against the rock for a second or two as electrical impulses still fired. It then fell to the ground, racked with spasms. Now there were seven.

Haliat didn't have a choice. He could try to fight Shepard and probably die, or he could get rid of Shepard now and worry about the Normandy later. In both cases, he would most likely die, but the latter gave him more time to think, and hopefully, for new possibilities of escape to arise.

He sheltered with two other mercs behind the Mako they had stolen. Its thick armor plates would protect them for now. Haliat felt damp with sweat. He hated this feeling of not being in control.

To his right, one of his men, a turian by the shape of his armor, got the bright idea to stand up from his crouched position. "Get the fuck down. What are you doing?"

The turian didn't even bother to face Haliat. "Getting us the fuck out of this mess. You fucked up, again." The turian began to climb up the side of the Mako.

Haliat put two and two together. The turian was trying to use the main gun of the Mako, but Haliat knew he would never get inside. He would be dead before he even had a chance. The turian reached the top of the vehicle and grasped the hatch, tossing it open.

Haliat watched from behind the Mako, patiently waiting. He knew what would happen. He felt an odd sense of pride as the turian's body came tumbling back down, spraying dark-blue blood all over him. However, he also felt a sense of dread. He was down another soldier.

No one tried anything else. To move meant to expose oneself, and to expose oneself meant death. Shepard would no doubt be descending the side of the mountain, descending towards them. Haliat wondered why Shepard hadn't killed him when he had the chance, when Haliat was running for cover. He'd instead opted to kill others. Why? Why not just kill him then?

A deep rumbling passed them overhead. Haliat looked up to see his ship zooming through the sky. It had just broken through the clouds, running towards them. Yet as it got closer and closer, the ship wasn't slowing down, it was speeding up. He radioed in; "what the hell are you doing? You're going to overshoot us?"

His comm was quiet for a few seconds before any response came through. When it did, he could hear heavy breathing, from the captain of course, and shouting in the background. "It came out of nowhere. We're not going to be able to help you! You're on your own." Before Haliat had time to respond, the channel disconnected. Bastard.

Another form broke through the clouds. It was sleek and moving at a blistering speed. He tried reaching the frigate again, desperate, almost pleading over the radio. "Let the gunships out!" He needed those if he had any hope of killing Shepard. He wouldn't get them if the ship they were carried on was shot down. He hated himself; he was failing again, his plan having been ruined and everything he had amassed once more being taken away from him. "You have a hostile on your tail." Haliat got no response back.

The two ships, high in the sky, chased each other off into the distance. Then, he watched The Normandy swoop down like a hawk from above, firing blue bolts at his ship, striking it several times. The ship slowed down and lurched heavily to one side. Even from here, he could see the massive plumes of smoke and fire billowing from its hull. It nosedived into the ground, and a massive fireball went up into the air. The other mercs on the ground stared straight at him. He was their leader, he was supposed to think of something so they all wouldn't die, but he was fresh out of ideas. These were all hardened warriors, but every single one of them was demoralized from watching their only means of rescue explode. And let's not forget the fact that dozens of souls had just winked out of existence in one fell swoop. There would be no hope, no survival, for any of them. They would be forced to watch themselves be cut down.

"I KNOW YOU'RE HERE HALIAT!" a voice boomed. It reminded Haliat of the man he'd heard on the news all those years ago. Yet in a way, it was different. It was different from the man he had spoken to earlier today too. Shepard must have been very close to the bottom of the mountain, maybe already on the base. The time of reckoning was upon them.

A boulder where a handful of his men were hiding behind was suddenly tossed into the air. This was an impressive feat given its size, yet Haliat doubted Shepard had done this tactically. Those who had been seeking shelter behind it scrambled to get away before it would crush them on its return trip to the ground. Haliat watched three of his men being shot in the back as they tried to get away, taken down by several controlled bursts of assault rifle fire. Four remained.

"Where are you Haliat?! You wanted to face me, well here I am!"

Another biotic blast sent a rock flying backward through the air, striking the ground with a loud crash and kicking sand up into the sky. This time, no one was behind it, but it would only be a matter of time. Haliat looked at the body of the turian that had tried to get into the Mako. That would be him in a matter of minutes, not unless he could miraculously kill Shepard.

It was only at this moment that he realized something: for all the things Shepard and he had 'done' to each other, they had never actually fought face to face. He realized how much of a coward he was being, cowering behind a Mako with his arms tucked close to his chest clutching his rifle. That's how he could tell who the real man was here. No, no that judgment wasn't fair. Haliat was a man, he was just dealing with something else entirely. He was dealing with a person who defied logic and probability, a person who lived when he should have died; he was dealing with a person who didn't possess reason and humanity, and that comment was coming from him, a fucking pirate.

"Are you seriously hiding Haliat?" The commander started laughing, and it nearly made Haliat shit is pants. What he was hearing… it belonged to someone who was psychotic and unhinged. He'd met a lot of interesting and soulless characters over his life, but this was something different. This was a soldier who enjoyed killing, it was such a joke to him that he was laughing. "You wanted to blow me up with a nuke, but you can't bother to face me?"

Another laugh howled over the red sands. "Did your balls drop off that quickly? I know you're hiding behind MY Mako." Haliat's blood ran cold. It was no longer a matter of probability of where he could have been hiding. Shepard knew with a reptilian certainty.

The mercenary that squatted next to Haliat looked up at him. Haliat didn't need to see his face to know the fear he was feeling because he was feeling it too. If I only let it go. What did I even have to gain from this?

Shepard blasted another boulder into the air, sending it flying over the Mako. If the commander could toss boulders around like toys, he could probably do the same to the Mako. Again, he had to wonder why the commander didn't just crush him with the vehicle and get it over with.

The last group of his mercenaries, a trio, was hiding in a ditch. He could see them from here. They were straining their necks to try and look over the dirt in front of them. They glanced at Haliat, clutching their assault rifles and shotguns. One of the turian's had his helmet off. The intensity in his gaze and the way his mandibles spread said it all; they were mad at him; they would blame him for dying.

The mercenaries jumped up from their ditch and started to fire at Shepard in a last-ditch effort, although Haliat couldn't see where the commander was exactly. It only lasted two seconds before their weapons stopped firing and started screaming back at their yielders. They were overheated, except that was impossible. The weapons weren't overheated, they just believed that they were. A blue haze formed around the mercenaries, picking them up in the air and preventing them from going back into cover. His men screamed, an ear-piercing cry of terror that should not have come from grown men; it scared Haliat. Abruptly, they were tossed into the air like ragdolls. They reached their peak in the air and began falling back down towards the ground, screaming all the way. Short, controlled, and lethal bursts of fire from a rifle shot each one of them before they hit the ground, spraying blood over the area behind them before they landed with a sickening thud. Shepard had killed these men like he was at a gun show competition, tossing empty soda cans into the air and shooting them as they fell to the ground, except the soda cans were living and breathing people. Shepard was hunting them down like a gun sportsman.

"So that's what you're going to do, let your men die for you while you get away alive? I expected more from someone who boasted his ass off less than half an hour ago." Haliat, who had been leaning against the Mako, felt the vehicle move behind him. It started to groan as its own weight was being taken off its transmission. Haliat turned around, watching the five-ton Mako slowly being raised into the air, inch by inch. He saw three pairs of booted legs. With each inch that the Mako rose, he could see more and more of the people hidden by the armored tank. Eventually, the Mako was high enough so he could see all three individuals in their entirety; these were the same three people that should have been blown apart into their individual, constituent atoms. They were alive.

Haliat pointed his assault rifle at the three of them but held back from firing. There would be no point. The human next to him started to run away at breakneck speed. Haliat watched as Shepard raised both hands into the air, straining to raise the Mako even higher. The commander then took a step forward, pushing his arms forward as well. The Mako lagged behind the commander's movements by a second, but not even the tank was able to resist Shepard's will. It was tossed backward, after the running soldier. It landed at an angle, crushing the man instantly, before coming to a rest on its side, slightly buried in the dirt.

Haliat slowly retreated, step by step, his rifle still raised, switching his aim between the three enemy soldiers. Only the commander pointed his weapon at Haliat. The quarian and the human soldier that accompanied him had their pistols out and ready, but these weapons were pointed towards the ground. They knew this fight was over.

Haliat knew he would die, but it didn't mean he wasn't angry and full of despair. Haliat had watched Shepard's entire display of gaudy violence and there was no denying that Shepard was an expert at what he did. Yet Haliat didn't believe Shepard had been the one to disarm the nuke. The commander only knew death, not circuitry. "You should have died down there, Shepard. Originally, I thought I had messed up, but I don't think I did. You were saved by a fucking suit-rat! How does that make you feel?"

The commander threw his rifle to the ground and started to take long, powerful steps forward. Those steps gradually turned into leaping strides as Shepard closed the distance between himself and Haliat. A blue wall of force formed in front of him as he charged.

Haliat fired his weapon at the commander. The bullets bounced off the blue aura, as he had expected, but Haliat had to try. Haliat was still firing bullets at full auto when the commander reached him. He felt like he'd been hit by a freight train as the commander's body slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. Shepard then jumped high into the air with Haliat, retaining his forward velocity. He held the pirate at arm's length as they soared through the air. Haliat tried to escape from the commander, but it was as if his punches and strikes were feathers. They began to fall towards the ground, and Shepard drew his right arm back, folding it close to the side of his body, elbow jutted out.

Haliat landed on his back. He could feel his ribcage collapse in on itself and his pelvis shatter from the force of the impact. At the moment they hit the ground, Shepard landed the elbow of his right arm on Haliat's helmet, cracking it inwards. The commander slowly rose to his feet and took a step back. Haliat screamed in pain and instantly regretted it as his lungs expanded and contracted against his destroyed ribcage. His breathing became shallow, yet even that still hurt like hell. Now, his only weapon was his fists and a small sidearm strapped to his thigh.

Shepard didn't move. He just tilted his head to the side and watched Haliat lying in the dirt, withering in agony. In the back of the pirate's mind, he was getting the disturbing feeling that Shepard was enjoying watching his pain.

Haliat's eyes were wide with shock as he looked back at the commander. This man should be dead! It isn't fair!

Shepard sighed. The aggressive posture of his stance slowly faded until he was standing with his feet together and arms by his side. He hung his head as he looked down at Haliat's crippled form. "Why'd you make me do this?" he asked, almost childishly.

Haliat wanted to scream the answer back. Haliat knew that Shepard knew the answer, so Shepard was just taunting him at this point. However, the tone of his voice was almost sincere, as if he didn't know. "Elys…ium," he gasped.

Shepard nodded his head solemnly. He let out a short, sad laugh before sitting down next to Haliat, legs crossed. "You're mad at me for saving the colony. I can understand." He was silent for a moment before continuing. "You didn't fail, I did. Tens of thousands of people died that day."

Haliat's mouth was opening and closing like a fish in water. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what. How is it possible for someone to be so angry one minute and so calm the next? "You…you ruined me. I wanted to…reclaim my name." For Haliat it was never about the good or the bad you brought into the world; it was the image you carried. That's where real power was derived from: people fearing your reputation.

"So do I, but we can't always get what we want, can we?" What Shepard meant, he didn't know. Yet, Shepard telling him in person that he had again failed was like a slap in the face. All he knew was that he wanted to reach his arms out and strangle this man to death in a last act of defiance, a last hurrah.

Haliat could see two figures slowly approach behind Shepard. It was his crew. The human was carrying an extra assault rifle, the one Shepard had tossed to the ground before charging him.

He had planned it to perfection, and his enemies had fallen into the trap exactly as he had expected them to. Except none of it worked, again. He wanted to understand why, even in his last moments. What made this man tick, what made him live through what would have killed so many others? It didn't make any sense, no matter what angle he looked at it from. He shifted his gaze from Shepard to the people who had accompanied him. "Were they the ones to…disarm the nuke?" He just had to know if his plan would have worked if Shepard was alone.

"Yes, yes they did." Haliat could hear a hint of pride in his voice. "You never failed. I can just sometimes be very, very lucky. I should have died long ago."

What the hell is this, a therapy session? Just kill me! Haliat could only wonder why the commander was divulging his thoughts to a dying man. "What's going to…happen now? Kill me?" He didn't think he would leave alive. It was an impossible outcome. But for a man as egotistical as himself, he had to know how it would all end.

Shepard sighed again, like he was having trouble saying what he was going to say. "You'll die." Shepard then leaned closer to Haliat's ear as if he was telling him a secret. He wanted to squirm away, but it hurt too much. "Your men trapped in the caves below will die too, although I haven't decided how yet."

These answers were what he expected, and he knew that Shepard's latter statement alluded to the nuke he had brought here. He could only hope that Shepard would really detonate the nuke before leaving. Otherwise, these men would be tortured and driven mad by the darkness he had sent them into. A quick death was preferable to a long, torturous one.

This thought, of having to plead for a certain kind of death, enraged him. He shouldn't have to plead or beg for anything. He wasn't a dog, he was Elanus Haliat, the smartest and most ambitious leader of the Terminus Clans there ever was. He had planned and carried out raids larger than any had seen before. Except I failed every time. He was dying, and he was being forced to confront the fact that he had accomplished nothing in his life. He was going to die here, in the middle of nowhere. He for once just wanted something to go his way. And as far as he could tell, it was Shepard's fault that it wasn't; this man had first ruined him, and now he was going to kill him.

Shepard got up and stood next to Haliat. "If you want to know why you failed, it's rather simple." He spoke in slow, deliberate words. He was taunting, but at the same time, consoling the dying pirate. "When I was a kid, I used to be hungry all the time. My friends had taught me how to catch rats. When you're desperate, anything's a delicacy. You know it's amazing what you can do with a piece of wood, a spring coil, and some rubber bands." He paused.

"What?" Haliat breathed. What the hell was this man talking about? He was about to murder him, and he's giving stories from his childhood.

Shepard continued, undisturbed by Haliat's question. "Sometimes, I would sit across the room and watch the trap, huddled in the corner. You know what I saw?"

Kaiden tried to interrupt, slowly getting freaked out. "Shepard, what the hell? Call the Normandy, let's get the nuke, and let's get out of here." But the commander didn't even bother to turn his head. He didn't care what anyone thought.

"If you left the rat enough time, some were able to escape. Would you like to know why?" He continued to speak, not bothering to wait back for an answer. "Some were lucky, and somehow managed to squeeze their way out of the trap. Yet most weren't, so they died. They died and got eaten. One day, while I sat in my corner, I saw a rat scuttle towards the trap. It stepped into the trap and got caught. Whenever that would happen, I would always be filled with glee. You got to see the rat jumping around, lunging every-which-way, trying to escape. This rat was no different, and it eventually gave up and tired out. Do you want to know what it did instead?"

"Shepard…"

"Shut up," the commander snarled back. He wanted to finish this story, to tell Haliat why he had failed. He wanted this man to be tormented before he died.

"It turned around and started to chew its own foot off. I knew I should have gotten up and killed it before it got away, but I was so…entranced by it, by its attempts to escape. I'd never seen one do that before. The thing didn't even squeal, it just kept chewing for minutes." His voice turned hoarse. "It kept chewing until its foot came off. And then it scuttled away as if nothing had happened, leaving a bloody trail. I was a little kid but I found it so cool."

"You're a freak!" Haliat tried to scream through pained breaths. "Get the fuck away from me!" He tried to drag his broken body away from the commander, but he could only move inch by inch.

"Most die. Some escape through luck. But there were others, who if given enough time, who's will to live was so strong that they would do anything to survive." He tilted his head to the side almost as if he was contemplating something important. "Now I see the funny side. I think this time you were just unlucky." Shepard drew his pistol and held it in his right hand, pointing it towards the ground.

No, Haliat refused to go out like this, to die a beggar or at the whim of another person. His hand slowly crept to the sidearm on his leg. He imperceptibly drew his gun out of its holster. All he needed was one swift motion, one decisive shot at one unarmored spot on the commander. Shepard would never notice, the man was barely in this universe at the moment. He was clearly in another; the way he stared ahead, away from Haliat, as if he were unimportant, to not even dignify his death…

"Shepard!" Kaiden yelled.

"I said shut up!"

Haliat was shot twice by Kaiden before he could even move his arm. He collapsed back into the dirt. "Fuck you!" he screamed through gurgled breaths. "Fuck you and your alliance. Fuck you and your crew."

He watched Shepard slowly turn towards him through red-tinged vision, undisturbed by what had just happened. The commander walked around his dying body and wrestled Haliat's gun out of his hand. He tried to resist, but it was useless; his strength was leaving his body by the second. "You're a disgrace to your race, Shepard!"

The commander's back straightened. He turned to point the weapon at Haliat in a swift, abrupt manner, almost as if he was a robot. Any semblance of the men who he had just been speaking to was gone. In his place, the man who'd killed his entire squad with deadly precision spoke. "If you wanted to die faster, all you could have done was ask."

"Go… to hell!" he screamed through gritted teeth, straining against death itself to speak three final words.

"How 'bout I meet you there?" Shepard offered.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.


"Commander, good to hear from you again. I take it you found the nuke?"

"Yes, sir. I took care of it."

Hackett paused, taking the time to deliberately choose his words. "What do you mean by 'taken care of'? Did you secure the nuke or not?" He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that told him that Shepard went way past the scope of the mission.

"The mission parameters changed. It was captured by enemy hostiles. However, the nuke won't be a problem."

"I'm having a hard time believing you engaged enemy hostiles in the middle of nowhere, Shepard. And the alliance won't take it lightly that you lost control of a nuclear weapon."

"Did you ever wonder who was behind the Skyllian Blitz?" Shepard asked cryptically.

"How does this have anything to do with-"

"I found him. It was Elanos Haliat. He was the one behind the Blitz, and he was the one responsible for activating that probe's signal. It was never a coincidence, admiral. You sent me into a trap, sir" he replied brazenly. "He tried to kill me with that thing, said it was revenge for what I did to him, for stopping the Blitz."

Hackett nodded along slowly. This was big news. The alliance had never found the mastermind behind the attack on Elysium. To have some closure and the knowledge that the menace who orchestrated it was no longer alive was a relief. "Well, at least you got out. I take it no one else except your team and Haliat were at the nuke. If anyone was hurt in that explosion… we could get into serious trouble commander."

"No one else. I blew it up before I left the planet, sir. Just a bunch of pirates in a cave."

Hackett crossed his arms. All this news was a lot to take in. Old enemies returning out of the blue, alliance secrets on the verge of being exposed to the galaxy, the threat of Saren and his geth armies, life at the moment sucked. "Do you have any leads on Saren yet?"

Shepard gulped, his Adam's apple visibly moving. "Nothing, sir."

"In that case, we have a colony that's dropped out of radio contact for a couple of days now. Could be trouble over there, and I'd appreciate it if you can sort it out. The place is called Feros, in the Attican Beta cluster."

"If I had to bet, sounds like another Cerberus experiment to me," he spat. "I'll head over there immediately, sir." He knew what they had done last time with the Thresher Maws on Akuze. He would not make the same mistake twice.

"And commander, try not to die. I have more than enough clearance to see the recent string of serious injuries on your medical record."

"Sorry sir, I guess I'll have to wait 'till Christmas for my wish, then."

"The galaxy is counting on you, commander." It was only ever so rarely that you found a soldier that was truly willing and ready to die. And they only had one soldier that he knew of that kind of wanted to die and didn't fear death. It had its positives and negatives, yet he preferred Shepard stay alive, both out of the importance of the mission and Hackett's belief that life was something important that should be cherished.

"Hackett out."


The signal cut off. Now it was just Shepard, standing alone in the comm room of the Normandy. "They chose the wrong man to count on," he whispered to himself. He didn't want that guilt right now but he wouldn't lie to himself. He didn't honestly believe he could defeat Saren. Today only seemed to reinforce that.

If this was a game of chess, Shepard would have lost long ago. He'd so easily walked into a trap today, and almost gotten himself and two others killed. Shepard did prevail in the end, but his problem was that Haliat was a nobody. Saren, however, was anything but a nobody. Sooner or later, Shepard knew that he would be outsmarted by that turian.

His life at the moment was sobering. He knew he was only alive over either an accident or Haliat's ego. For some stupid reason, they'd put a 30-second timer on the nuke instead of blowing it up immediately. That, and the fact that he had two techs with him, was the only reason he was alive. Shepard doubted Saren would make such a mistake as Haliat had done.

Something else scared him too. It was a fact he implicitly knew and lived, although never thought of: people can hold grudges for a very long time. Haliat had waited ten years for his revenge. How many others were out there, plotting revenge against him for the things he had done right, and more concerningly, the things he had done wrong? Like Haliat, he knew what it was like to have a grudge and hide it inside yourself until it festered. It was impossible to let it go; you had made yourself a silent promise and staked your meaning to exist on the completion of your revenge. He and Haliat were not very different after all, at least in this regard. He couldn't blame the man for something Shepard knew he couldn't let go.

Killing Haliat and his pirate crew, in the moment, had felt exhilarating. He could feel their fear, and it made him feel powerful. He knew it was wrong and it made him a monster. He could only find solace in the fact that Haliat had tried to kill him; to any normal person, the threat of death would have been absurd, but to Shepard it meant that he had a license to kill that person without second thoughts, or so he told himself.

He took a seat in one of the dozen chairs in the comm room. He leaned forward so that he was resting his elbows on his thighs and concentrated on the dull hum of the Normandy's engines. I'm condemned, aren't I?


"Are y'all right babe? You look pretty shaken up after today," she whispered. It was late at night, and they were in the cargo hold. They stood at the weapon's bench, cleaning their weapons so in case anyone caught them, they had an excuse.

"He didn't say anything about the mission, did he?"

"No, he didn't. You know he's reclusive, and I haven't even seen him today at all."

He shook his head in disgust. "Probably trying to kill himself," he spat.

This was worse than she'd thought. She'd never seen him this mad before. He was usually pretty calm and collected. This was something different. "Tell me what happened."

His brow furrowed, unsure. He'd never been so close to death, and he still felt like throwing up. How Shepard had killed those men today was…disturbing.

"Please?"

He put down the gun barrel, resting it on the table. He reached for the rag to wipe away the grease and gun oil that covered and blackened his hands. "I knew from the day that I stepped on the Normandy that it would be a rough ride."

His eyes were distant as they stared down at the floor. "First thing he did when he got down here, yelled at a bunch of troops gawking at him and started punching a locker because it wouldn't open."

She couldn't say she was surprised. His description of the commander was almost fitting.

"We almost died down their today, again."

Her voice caught in her throat. "What he do?"

He snorted. "It's not what he did. More like what people want to do to him." Then he slammed his fist down on the table in front of him. "And the damn alliance too. You know that when they sent out spy probes during the First Contact War, they put nukes on them?" he cried. "We were sent to clean up their mess. Except someone got there before us and tried to use the nuke to kill Shepard."

She wanted to crack a joke, to say that using a nuke was overkill, but Kaiden didn't need that right now. "Who was it?"

"Somebody trying to kill Shepard for one of the only things he did right. It was the man behind the god damn Skyllian Blitz."

"We never did find him," she mumbled.

"I almost died by one second today. We had to disarm that thing while he just stood there and watched. I sure as hell knew he didn't care what happened, but what about us?"

The fear of losing Kaiden, or even anyone for that matter, would be unbearable. It was too soon after Eden Prime. She didn't want to go through that again. "I'm sorry Kaiden. I'm just happy that you got out alive. If anyone could disarm that nuke, it was you."

"Ya right," he sighed. "If Tali hadn't been there, I would have been toast. I almost cut the wrong wire for crying out loud!" His voice, it gave him all away. He was scared of something. But he was a soldier, and they all knew that when they woke up in the morning, they ran the risk of dying that day. There must be something else.

"Kaiden…"

"I hate him. Bad things follow him everywhere he goes, and other people end up paying the price. And the worst part is I'm not sure he cares. He didn't even have the respect to listen to me when I was trying to prevent him from getting shot in the fucking back while he was telling some fucked up story from his childhood. Told me to 'Shut up'" he mocked with air quotes. "I don't want to die as an expendable cog."

"You're not, not to me."

"I know." He rested his hand on her shoulder. He wanted to say more, but he was afraid. He was afraid that this wouldn't last. He'd die, or she'd die, or the reapers would come and kill them all. Being a soldier was the worst profession for love and romance.


Shepard had been rummaging through his closet, looking for something. He found it in a metal box in the back corner, buried under his clothes. He opened the box. It was his collection of important items, the only things of meaning to him. It too was cluttered, which he found odd. He set it down on his bed and began to feverishly unpack the contents, looking for something.

He found it. The white and blue ribbon attached to it was specked with dust and the colors were fading from having been packed in such a mess. But the metal shone as clear and as bright as the day he had gotten it. He'd worn it only once, then he'd stuffed it away. He didn't care for fancy metals or praise. It was all a lie. The media had only cared because he had been willing to die for them. That's why they pretended to treat soldiers so nicely, it was a fucking bribe for people too scared to fight for themselves.

Except what had he ever even fought for? He'd seen humans attacking Elysium that day, much to his surprise. But to believe that the entire thing had been orchestrated by a human against a human colony…why did he bother fighting for them when they wanted to destroy themselves? Why not just let them die and fulfill the death they were seeking?

He clutched the metal in his hand and threw it into the ground. A chip flew off from one corner.

He never really cared for this thing, but now he just felt like outright destroying it.

He picked it up again and hurled it into the wall, throwing it as if he were throwing a baseball. Another piece of metal cracked off.

He picked it up again and placed the center of the metal on the edge of his desk. He struck its end with his palm. It cracked in half. He lobbed it into the garbage can, where he believed it belonged. He sat down at the foot of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, and his forehead in his hands. He shut his eyes and screamed.