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"And finally, we have Krogan shock corps, supported by Turian armored units and air, ready to perform a spearhead maneuver and secure Thessian space." Hackett finished with a tired sigh, taking a long sip from the whiskey he certainly hadn't stashed in the false bottom of his desk and looking around his office aboard the Everest. When the other end of the call didn't say anything, he went on dryly, "With their assistance, your forces can focus on reoccupying the planet itself, and retaking satellite colonies around the system. Then, we just need you to hold our rear and reinforce us across Republic and Union space."

"And I suppose I don't get much choice in the matter, do I?" She answered, sighing wearily and sending static across the comm-line. "You certainly didn't give me very much of one in regards to installing this in my office…"

"Operation : Troy is going to go ahead regardless of what you decide, Councilor Tevos. Going against it just means more risk for everyone involved in this fight." Not that the Citadel's remaining races and forces were very involved in the fight at all. Oh they fought tooth and nail in their own space, of course, but they are obstinate about not pushing out at all. Still, they could be counted to hold their line, at least… "And you know as well as I do that Quantum Entanglement Communicators are the most secure and advanced form of communications in the galaxy right now. You should be grateful the Coalition elected to share it with you."

"Share? You shared it?" Their third chuckled darkly, "The STG would have gotten ahold of the technology breakthroughs the Alliance used to finally get it running regardless."

"Why, are you implying that the Salarian Union is sabotaging the Coalition?" Hackett asked dryly, "That would be an act of war, Councilor."

"No, I am simply noting that you did not share anything. Your forced it onto us by refusing to communicate by any other means." The Salarian sighed, going on before Hackett could reiterate the obvious fact of it being the safest communications line they had. Instead, the Salarian grunted, "The Union will protect its territories, Admiral. Keep those beasts of yours in line, wne we'll use them."

"Very well." And he looked forward to the Salarians trying to 'use' the Krogan shock corps, too, to say the very least. "Councilor Tevos?"

"The Republic defense forces will refrain from firing on your forces until the Reapers are dealt with." She answered crisply and stiff, the way she'd talked ever since the schism of the Council, "But I don't promise anything else."

"That's more than enough." He sighed, closing the call without any fanfare and opening up the comm line to the rest of the fleet. "And more than I expected, too, Councilors."

Outside, through a viewport, he could see the looming form of the Mass Relay that, once his fleet had launched through it, would precipitate the single most important battle in Human history. Or, perhaps, even for galactic history.

Depending on who won the coming fight, of course.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between across every species that has come together for this momentous occasion, I am High Admiral Stephen Hackett, formerly of the Alliance Navy. Now, like all of you, I'm a Coalition soldier." He started quietly, levelly, knowing that his voice would be echoing out across thousands of comm lines. That pressure was a familiar enough one, even if the sheer mass of ears listening to him was not. Still, he was the High Admiral, and went on calmly, "Today, alongside over two dozen other fleets mobilized for the task, we undergo Operation : Troy. Do your jobs, follow your orders, and we will win. And when we win, we'll strike a decisive blow to the Reapers."

"One that will end this war in our favor." He finished, reaching for the disconnect button, "Godspeed, and all ships, all ahead full."

With that, he stood, took one last draught of whiskey, and began to make his way to the bridge. It was time to do or die, or maybe even both…

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Doe listened to the Admiral's brief speech in the near-silence of one of the Everest's flanking ships forward MOEIV/SOIEV launch bays. These new ships were torpedo boats and carriers, all the better to hide the launched pods according to doctrine. Four decks tall, and spanning nearly the entire front of the ship's width. The bays were heavily armored, with massive armor panels that would slide back and along the side to expose the launch tubes, as well as dozens of missile and torpedo tubes. The pod bay itself was brimming with thousands of soldiers preparing for orbital drop missions spread out over a hundred designated landing zones. Alongside six more ships just like it with the same complement of forces, all flagging just behind the Everest itself.

Each ship's bay had a large room that adjoined it, set up like a conference room with a large holo-display set up in it. The display was lit up by a lightly detailed map of Africa's southern tip, with hundreds of little markers lit up in orange showing off landing sites and targets both. Around a dozen Coalition soldiers had filled the room, surrounding Wrex while he spoke.

"We'll be landing all along here." Wrex growled quietly, trailing an armored finger all along the southern half of Farica's coastline. He was armored for combat even by Krogan standards and sporting a massive assault rifle called a Revenant, which his research essentially told him was a light machine gun with an identity problem. "The main fire teams will drop in by way of the big MOEIV pods, spaced around a kilometer apart from each other. Their jobs will be clearing out landing areas ahead of Kodiaks, bringing in armor and infantry."

"Why not just start with the Kodiaks?" A black armored, slim Turian asked from beside him, leaning against the table heavily and eyeing the map coolly. He was old and scarred, on his armor and not, and wore a bright gold medal on his shoulder that marked him as a Palaven liberation veteran. "I'm assuming the Reapers have anti-air cannons in place?"

"All along the coasts, and in the highlands 'n mountains, yeah." Wrex grunted and nodded, waving a hand over the map along the hills and, much further inland, the mountain ranges themselves, "That's the next objective. Once landing zones are cleared, officers on the ground are to send teams in to disable whatever cannons they can."

"A thousand drop troopers can't clear out half a continent's defenses."

"That's not the goal, Doe." Wrex grunted quietly, "They're forward forces, not the assault forces themselves. Once landing zones are secure as they can be, Lance fleet will deploy the second wave from low orbit in Kodiaks. Their job will be to pave the way for Sword fleet's battalions, which will lead distractionary assaults on the cities."

"Ahead of Operation : Troy's true objective." An old, weathered looking Salarian said. He was apparently an ex-SPECTRE that had come out of retirement when the Reapers hit and sided with his planet when the schism occurred. He raised a ridged, scarred brow and asked, "Correct?"

"Yeah." Wrex growled quietly, eyeing the Salarian with an old suspicion before sighing and pushing himself on, "Lance corps will come in with the artifacts, which will be divided up on the ground to anyone still alive at the time. Each'll come with its designated set location. Once they're all in place, the jammers will disable the Reaper's control of their infantry. Then, we take 'em down."

Of course, he knew the lie, there, and couldn't resist paying his Krogan friend a knowing smirk for it while the other soldiers murmured amongst themselves. The old Krogan laughed on seeing it and shook his head, waving him off and pounding a fist against the table to get everyone's attention back. The soldiers all calmed and turned to him but, before he could speak, John felt the ship tremble around them.

"Attention, crew and passengers. Listen up because I won't be repeating myself." The ship's captain, a young Asari mercenary he knew from his briefing before he'd boarded, said as more tremors rocked the ship. "We have successfully relayed and come into a Reaper defensive formation in Sol system. Hardsuits are mandated, and all drop forces are to be ready in Kodiaks and pods. All hands, brace as able."

"You all heard the lady." Wrex grunted as the entire ship shook more violently, it's lights flickering as combat strips lit up preemptively. "Get to your pods."

Murmuring, they all turned to leave through the wide doors that slid open automatically to admit them. Outside of the smallish room, the massive bay sat half empty on one side. The other was spanned by a massive fame that looked like a skyscraper, except laid on its side and curved with the front of the sleek-hulled ship. Lifts and stairs wound between it like a spider's web, carrying soldiers and material to pods in the hundreds of all kinds of sizes.

Some were MOEIVs, or Multi-person Occupant Exo-atmospheric Insertion Vehicles that could carry up to four Krogan down to the surface. A few smaller models existed, carrying sniper teams and additional ammunition down along with the soldier, all the way down to the more classic SOIEVs that were spaced along the top. The UNSC had never used the larger versions, and he wasn't sure why that was, but they'd claimed that these were just as safe and reliable as the standard.

"You're with me on this, Maw Caller." Wrex growled as they left the briefing room, clapping a heavy hand on his shoulder. Huffing, he rumbled a laugh that John more felt than heard, in the loudness of the pod bay. "Or I guess I'm with you, aren't I?"

"How do you mean?" He asked as they climbed the stairs, Doe forced to take them two at a time to keep up with Wrex's longer stride.

"I'm your drop partner on this one, John." he answered simply, grinning when John came to a surprised stop and choked on air. Turning to him with a widening smile and spreading his arms out to either side, he asked, "Did ya really think I wouldn't get my massive, armored ass into one of these before the war was out?"

"Ideally? Yes, you would keep your lizard ass out of a 'pod." But he knew Wrex far too well to expect the ideal, and pushed around him with a weary but resigned sigh. "You don't know how to steer like a coffin jockey, though, so hands to yourself. I'll bring us in."

"Jockey?"

"As in 'coffin jockey'." He explained shortly as they continued their climb. "Just an old monicker for ODSTs from back home. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, because why would I worry about a name like that?" The old Krogan warrior huffed, shaking his great head as they reached the apex of the massive frame.

Here the hull curved tightly above them, close enough for him to reach out and touch it, so they'd put the smaller drop pods up there. The new, and from what he'd read in the briefings final, version of the drop pod was jet black and shaped largely like a bullet, with a sleekly angled cockpit on top of it. It was also long, nearly twice as long as his old SOIEVs had been back in his universe. That was because these new ones were modular, stocked by order of the soldiers being deployed and with different kits depending on the soldier's needs. Weapons, ammunition, recon supplies and survival gear, you could use the space at the rear, behind the seats, for a variety of things.

It could also be stripped out to fit a secondary seat, if a soldier preferred a partner to extra supplies.

"Guess I get the back seat then..." The warlord huffed, looking into the pod.

The back of it was wider than the front, thanks to its shape, so it had been fitted with a wide, round seat and harness for him. Grumbling, he yanked his Revenant off his back and climbed in, slamming it down into a slot for it beside his seat. The other rack, on the other side of the Krohan's seat, had the normally nearly omnipresent hulk of his Claymore heavy shotgun crammed into it too.

"You good?" He asked, watching the Krogan settle in, his knees tucked up against his chest and arms laid out on the armrests so that it looked like he was hugging his legs. The Krogan huffed and shot him a glare and he chuckled, "What? A bit tight for you?"

"Shut it and get in before I kick your ass and find an airlock."

He laughed, ignoring another tremor as it rocked through the ship. There were no alarms, though, so he felt safe to pick on the Krogan while he last-checked his gear. His armor was good, and he could see his Harrier and M7 both locked in to either side of his seat. His M6C was in his pack, too, tucked away securely in case he needed it and the Phalanx on his hip wasn't useful anymore. And a small crate of ammunition, at least for their ME based weapons, had been built into place between the two seats.

"You sure, Wrex?" He asked, clambering in and dropping into his seat with a grunt." I could get a booster for you."

"I swear on kalros herself, I will eat. You." The Krogan threatened, huffing as he strapped in and then, as the hatch sealed, asking, "What do you think the odds are, anyway, Doe?"

"Talking about…?"

"Me getting some pups out of you!" He laughed while John sighed and shook his head, running through the simple controls of the pod while the Krogan blustered. After a second, though, the warlord asked, "I mean this operation. What do you think the odds are we pull this shit off?"

"About normal for my line of work." He answered, "Back home, I mean."

"So basically zero, then?"

"Pretty much, yeah." He chuckled, easing back in the seat as the automated systems slid his pod into place alongside hundreds of others. It wouldn't be very long now and they'd be launching while the Fleet stayed to fight… Quietly, he rattled on, "Once we launch, we'll be in open space. Then we have to deal with anti-missile systems and fighters, we know Oculi will slam into missiles. Then it's a long-cruise to Earth, and we have to hope Reapers don't pick us off there-"

"Well you're just a ray of sunshine and a fresh Varren steak, aren't you?" Wrex huffed a laugh, "I meant the operation itself. Not us livin' through it."

"Ah." He blinked and then shrugged, settling one arm on the armrest and the other in his lap, fingers playing with the joystick control idly while he waited. "I think that no matter what happens, the Reapers are going to be in pain after this. I imagine if we fail, the rest of the galaxy ought to be able to win without us."

"I hope so…" He sighed, then huffed and grunted, moving on to business, "Our drop'll put us right on the edge of an old city. Drone reports and survivors on the ground say it got hit hard and fast, then the Reaper left."

"How'd they hit it?"

"A few Destroyers landed and walked through, carving it up with their primaries and bulk dumping Cannibals." The Krogan answered simply, "Then they rushed on to some military targets 'round the area. Reads like they just wanted to smash the city up some first if you ask me."

"Probably, yeah." He nodded grimly, and knowingly, "Terror tactics. Armed forces would have mobilized to respond, then been caught trying to. Chaos out in the city would sow confusion, then you catch personnel carriers en route to help and cut them down which weakens the defense of your actual targets."

"All hands, brace for long-drop launch." The Asari captain said over the intercom system, "You have ten minutes, if you're the praying sort. Everyone else, get the rest you can while you can."

"Sounds like it's time to go." John sighed finally, rolling his shoulder until it popped. Then, curious, he asked, "What city, by the way?"

"Hm?"

"What city got smashed?"

"Ah." Wrex rumbled, tapping his finger loudly on the arm of his seat, "Old one, started with an 'M'... Ah, right, got it. Mombasa."

"Mombasa?" He snapped and blinked, turning bodily to look at his alien friend, "You're serious? We're dropping on Mombasa?"

"Yeah." Wrex nodded slowly, like he was confused, before John turned around and collapsed in his seat. After a second, the Krogan thumped the back of the frame his chair had been installed in and asked, "Why does that freak you out?"

"Mombasa was my drop target before I came here." He answered simply as his gut churned with a very new anxiety, "Gives me a bad feeling, that's all."

"Huh." Wrex grunted quietly, "Well, we end up back home for you, hope you put in a good word for me."

The Krogan warlord rumbled another laugh as the launch machines began to wind up, the pod vibrating around both of them gently. Knowing that when they launched he'd need to let the pod sail out on its trajectory and blend in with the missiles, he let his head rest against the back of the pod and closed his eyes.

Of course it'd be Mombasa…

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They received the ping warning of the assault a scant micro-second before a hundred more slammed into their receivers. Warships from a variety of species, engaging the defenses they had erected ahead of such a trivial eventuality. It seemed like every single Tier Three on the galactic stage race had thrown something at them. The attacker's numbers were… Within expected parameters. But their defences would not hold for long in any event, of course, and for a moment they considered sending reinforcements.

"Anomaly detected." A simplistic sub-AI reported mechanically, sending the relevant data through their connection without the needless prompt. "Anomalous minerals and strata patterns. Rock formations approximately forty-nine miles under planet one-zer-two-eight's surface in continent four do not match projections. Investigative sensor pings were reflected."

'Reflected?' They mused, 'That should be impossible…'

Four micro-seconds passed before they directed the AI to gather Destroyers in the area and begin more intensive scans and sample-digs. Whatever was down there was of… At least passing interest. Some unknown past of the Homo Sapiens' history, perhaps? If so, it would need to be thoroughly catalogued for the Archives.

Quietly, finally, they dismissed the alert regarding the combat at the relay, directing planetary defenders into place instead. It was an insignificant battle, after all.

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Bit of an exposition chapter but I needed to finalize the last dregs of setup. Now begins Operation : Troy, the last big act of this story. Hope you enjoy and see you next time for Rook and Wrex's wacky, totally not gonna kill any major characters off, fun time~!

Also, tidbits in some of these scenes that some might be able to pick out as things of interest, beyond the obvious~!

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Smokey Panda :

I intend it to be the last act, yeah. Been one hell of a ride.

Dasgun :

O.O

Just Another (Guest) :

Will you pout? I suspect you will pout.

Kancolle Haruna Chan n:

I've had a few Betas for this, after around chap 20, but we're all only Human. I hope the story is overall a good one, and you can forgive the errors!

And some of them are even NOT mistakes, but rather are stylistic. For instance, you pointed out 'bloody hunks of metal, carapace and metal'. I see the reading issue, and acknowledge it. But that was me pointing to how much metal a Reaper force is made of and thus stylizing the scene. Sorry if that was problematic!

And as a final note- Up until around chapter 25 I believe, this wasn't getting paid for in any respect. It was a side-fic that popular support pushed onto my main rotation.

The Right Price :

Liara Melded with them to help separate them out enough to prevent the worst of the dissociation. They still have weird memories and traumas that surge up, but using the Cipher, she could pick out the worst of the prothean bits. And using her knowledge of Shepard, she picked out the majority of the Shepard bits.

What you suggest is fascinating though, and fuck me but I wish I'd done that.