Shepard peered down the ladder of the aft hatch and dropped, rifle raised. He caught movement and whirled around to see Legion poking its head around the nearby junction.

"Shepard-Commander," the geth said. "The immediate area is clear. Negative contact. But Xenophon's cooling system is less than four minutes from failure. We must evacuate immediately."

"This way," Shepard said and led Legion forward. Acting as one, they advanced up the corridor, sweeping their weapons from doors to corners as they went. A low rumble boomed through the ship, and another klaxon began to wail. The Xenophon yawed suddenly, then corrected, sending both Shepard and Legion crashing into the wall and each other.

Legion pulled Shepard to his feet. "Xenophon's secondary systems are beginning to lose power. Attitude controls and inertial dampening failing. Reactor failure imminent."

Shepard and Legion staggered forward. Red lights reflected from the polished white floors and walls of the ship. With the deck shuddering beneath their feet, they passed another set of labs as the corridor bent inward. It ended in an open security door at the centerline marked Airlock - Authorized Personnel Only.

A middle-aged man in a Cerberus science uniform braced himself in the middle of the open hatch, waiting for survivors. His eyes grew wide at the sight of Shepard and the geth platform.

"Wait!" Shepard shouted. The man's hand slapped the switch next to the door. Shepard fired, dropping the man to the deck, but it was too late. The door sealed shut. "Legion, override!" Shepard pointed to the airlock control panel. As the geth worked, he peered through a rectangular window to the right of the door. Instead of a hangar, the docking port was open to space at the nose of the ship. Beyond, a gleaming white runabout, slightly larger than a Kodiak, rested in a docking collar and clamps.

Shepard could see the pilot looking over his shoulder through the bubble cockpit as well as the last of the Xenophon crew all staring at him through their windows, terror in their eyes. Though Shepard couldn't hear them, they were all screaming for the pilot to launch, but the docking clamps still held the shuttle in place.

"We have terminated launch clearance," Legion said, its omnitool glowing in front of the control panel. "Overriding airlock."

Shepard couldn't take his eyes from the runabout's pilot. The man's uniform indicated he was from Engineering, and the way he haphazardly slapped the controls told Shepard something bad was about to happen, "Get back!" Shepard grabbed Legion's shoulders and yanked the geth platform away from the hatch.

The corridor flashed white through the windows as the runabout's main engine fired. The airlock mount squealed and snapped as the runabout pulled away, peeling the forward bulkhead away from the nose of the Xenophon. Still connected by a strip of twisting metal, the it swung back into its mothership and slammed nose first into the bow, then tumbled toward the rear of the ship, leaving a trail of sparks and debris as it went.

An emergency barrier snapped in place where the airlock used to be and Legion and Shepard found themselves staring into Ma-at's milky white corona. The entire ship was rolling like a side of meat on a barbecue spit, trying in vain to keep one side of the ship from overheating and burning through. A new series of alarms squawked through the air, competing with all the other alarms wailing for attention.

"Escape pod," Shepard said and retreated up the corridor without missing a beat. "We'll eject from the side of the ship when it's away from the star, use the Xenophon as a shield."

Legion followed Shepard to the starboard corridor leading back into the ship. The deck heaved and bounced them once again. "Xenophon's physical hull will provide cover from direct rays to a distance of only fifty meters along its minor axis. Escape pod shielding insufficient to protect occupants during escape."

Shepard stopped in front of a bright yellow hatch in the starboard wall marked EMERGENCY ESCAPE. The Xenophon's reactor was about to overload, killing both of them. Or it would shut down, causing its shields to collapse, allowing Ma-at to incinerate the ship and killing them both. Staying aboard wasn't an option. "I want those fifty meters!" He opened the escape pod's hatch. "We'll have to time it just right. Let's go!" Shepard peered through the pod's front window. "What the hell-?"

The deck shuddered, and the light and gravity on the deck winked out. Legion's actuators strained to find a grip as the Xenophon rolled on a second axis. The geth hurtled forward up the length of the corridor, away from Shepard and the escape hatch. It smashed headfirst into a bulkhead then tumbled all the way through the gap left by runabout's ruined airlock. The emergency barrier flared as Legion passed through. Legion grasped the ragged edge of the hull and came to a stop, then pulled itself back into the ship. The ship's acceleration ceased, but the gravity did not re-activate. Small debris spun and flipped in the air, flaring in Ma-at's corona as they escaped beyond the emergency barrier.

Legion oriented itself and scanned its surroundings. "Shepard-Commander," it said over the tactical net, but there was no response. There was no signal from his comm, nor was his position available. In free fall now, Legion righted itself and propelled itself back toward the escape pod amid flashes from the remaining emergency lights.

Back in the corridor, Shepard-Commander was nowhere to be found. The hatch leading to the escape pod was sealed, its holo panel indicating it had launched. Shepard-Commander had ejected from the ship.

Another explosion shook the ship as Legion bounced around in front of the closed hatch, debris now careening from all directions. Shepard-Commander had made the only logical choice, even if it would prolong his life by only a few seconds after Xenophon was destroyed. But Shepard-Commander had never left any of the Normandy collective behind, even when his life was at stake. Why had Shepard-Commander abandoned Legion now? Legion's programs struggled to formulate an answer as the Xenophon, close to death, moaned and creaked around them.

With no ability to archive, isolated from the collective, Legion's consciousness would die with the ship. Legion's processes considered the alternatives, and proposed a course of action for consensus: they would seek out alternate means of escape.

A single geth program, responsible for visual imaging, offered a different perspective, reiterating that Shepard-Commander never abandoned a member of the Normandy collective. Therefore Shepard-Commander did not abandon Legion, but was acting with intent to return. That being the case, the best chance for survival to remain where Shepard-Commander expected to find it. Relocating to another position of the Xenophon might result in the destruction of both of them when Shepard-Commander returned.

Consensus achieved. Legion retreated from the hatch and braced itself against the opposite wall, positioned for maximum visibility and stability as the ship continued its death throes, and overclocked its location beacon to improve its signal.

The emergency hatch, designed never to open if the pod were missing, exploded in a shower of sparks and three-fingered hands reached through the hatch and yanked Legion through. Outside the hull, Legion found itself at the center of a cluster of geth. Just meters away, an insect-like frigate half the size of Xenophon hovered in space, its shadow protecting the geth from Ma-at as they recovered the precious cargo. But like the Xenophon, the geth ship's radiators burned white as they tried to fend off the star's power, and a steady stream of heat sinks ejected from their launchers.

The swarm of geth jumped across the gap, maneuvering Legion quickly into the geth ship's open cargo bay. Xenophon's hull splintered behind them. The shell of the once mighty Cerberus ship boiled away, dissolving into plasma that streamed into space.

The cargo hatch closed. Lights from a dozen geth platforms illuminated the small bay and the small pill-shaped life pod from the Xenophon. "Mobile Platform One was positioned where you indicated, Shepard-Commander. Recovery successful."

A lone organic pushed his way through the gaggle of geth. "Legion! Are you okay?"

Legion climbed to its feet. "Affirmative, Shepard-Commander."

"Sorry I took off like that." Shepard nodded toward the other geth platforms. "I saw them outside and had to get their attention."

"We knew you did not leave us."

Shepard gave Legion a pat on its shoulder, then doubled over with his hands on his knees, relaxing for the first time in days. He looked up at the ring of geth surrounding them. "Damn, it's good to have all of you back again."

The quarian cruiser Ciantess was known through the Migrant Fleet as the Ghost of Tikkun, a nickname earned during the exodus from Rannoch. Ciantess and the other vessels in its squadron repelled wave after wave of geth fighters at the Tikkun relay as the quarian ships jumped to safety. Ciantess was the last ship to escape before the relay fell. Every other ship in the system was left behind to face the geth. The captain of the Ciantess famously vowed that one day his ship would come home to finish the fight.

Three hundred years later, Ciantess was back at the Tikkun relay as her captain promised. She was top-of-the-line at the time of the geth uprising, and over the centuries had been maintained with the most modern weapons, sensors, and drives the quarians could scrounge. A mere cruiser no more, the Ciantess was the flagship of the quarian Navy, a functional promise to the quarian people that they would one day see home. Now, just as her captain had promised, the Ghost of Tikkun had returned with six thousand ships of the heavy navy, commanded by Admiral Veral'Dayal vas Ciantess.

She stood with her hands at her back in the CIC as she studied the strategic plot overhead. All around, tacticians, comm specialists and intelligence officers bustled about providing updates. The geth screening force that met them at the relay, close to two thousand enemy ships of all classes and tonnages, had been blown to scrap without the loss of a single quarian vessel. Thanks to Admiral Xen, the synthetic fleet remained dormant as quarian guns shredded their ranks, and now the Fleet's battle groups rearmed and reformed amid their wreckage for the final mission to take the real prize.

This far from the system's center, the first planet barely appeared as a speck next to its parent star. But even with standard optics, it resolved into a blue and brown crescent against the black of space, making the crew of the Ciantess among the first to lay eyes on Rannoch since the uprising.

"If Xen's virus was as effective at Rannoch as it was here," Durane, Daval's senior operations officer said, "we'll be back on the homeworld by the end of the cycle. Or should I use the proper term, day?" That sentiment brought muted cheers from around the compartment, but Daval was unmoved. "What's wrong, Admiral?"

"The geth reactivated once already," Daval said. "Until we know for certain they're down for good, we'll hold here until all groups finish transit from Dholen, then proceed slowly and in force." Her eyes wandered back to the image of Rannoch on the screen and shook her head. "It should have been Gerrel leading this charge. He devoted his entire life to this."

"So have you."

"So have we all. Get the Group commanders on the line while we wait. I want to to say a few words."

"Right away, Admiral!"

An alarm blared through the CIC. "Report from the Norgam! Geth vessels on an intercept course from the homeworld! Hundreds of them!"

"They're back online," Daval surmised. "As I suspected. This is it."

"The geth vessels are slowing," the voice over the radio said. "Coming to a stop just inside of sensor range."

"Creator-Admiral." The sound of the harsh, synthesized voice made everyone freeze.

The CIC's comm officer looked up from his panel, confirming what everyone already knew. The rest of his staff were already isolating the systems. "It's the geth."

"Any intrusions?"

"No, Admiral. No data. Voice only."

Durane exchanged an uneasy glance with Daval. "They're not attacking. Maybe Xen has control after all?"

Daval looked back to the strategic plot. All of the quarian battle groups were vectoring toward main body of geth ships. They would be in range to fire in less than a minute. Could Durane be right? Could Daro'Xen have brought the geth back under quarian influence? "Speak, geth."

"All Creator vessels must retreat to Nariph or be destroyed. You will not receive another warning. Acknowledge."

The eyes of all those present in CIC narrowed with grim resolve. "Extend our pickets." Daval growled. "Let's find their heart, and cut it out."

"Admiral Daval," said another voice, female, quarian. "This is Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. Stop your attack! The geth are fully back online. Our intelligence estimates vastly underestimated their strength! Even with the ships you've destroyed, they still outnumber you five-to-one!"

"Where's that coming from?" Daval asked with evident confusion.

"Same channel," the comm officer said. "From the geth."

"It's a trick," Durane said. "Could they be more obvious?"

"Incoming transmission," said the comm officer. "From the Conclave. Priority one, High Captain Wylo himself, Admiral, from the Anba at Nariph."

"Admiral Daval," Wylo's spoke calmly, but urgently. "Tali'Zorah has put us in direct contact with the geth. They have shared their strategic overview and we agree with Tali'Zorah's assessment. You are hopelessly outnumbered! Stop your attack immediately!"

The CIC's sector map widened from the space around the relay to the entire system of Tikkun. Wylo's data caused the thin cordon of geth ships facing the Migrant Fleet Navy to thicken into a wide swath containing tens of thousands of ships. An even larger force resolved around Rannoch itself. The Navy force would fall within minutes... if what was on the digital display represented physical truth.

All eyes in CIC turned to Daval, who watched the quarian forces speeding toward the geth concentrated in front of them. "Pass word. All vessels continue on course."

"Admiral," Wylo tried again. "Daro'Xen was acting without legitimate authority when she relocated the Fleet and instigated your attack! The Conclave, and the entire Migrant Fleet, had just agreed to engage the geth in peaceful negotiation and she violated that truce! It was an unlawful order, unsanctioned by this body! You must not carry it out!"

Daval stared at the tiny dot of light in close orbit around Tikkun. Never in her entire life did she actually think she would see it in person. Nor did anyone else, for that matter. "What would you have us do? Surrender to the geth?"

"No," Tali said. "Not surrender, retreat. The geth will let you withdraw. Fall back to Dholen. Regroup with the Civilian Fleet at Nariph. Admiral, please. Our ships are badly scattered. They're already under attack throughout the Terminus. It will take days for everyone to catch up. Without your ships, our people are vulnerable, and if you attack, the Migrant Fleet will be completely defenseless!"

"How can we know that any of what we are seeing is true?"

There was a pause from the other end of the line. "Show them," Tali said. "Please."

"Acknowledged," said the geth.

"Active sensor emissions across the board!" The announcement echoed around the CIC. The live display blossomed with contacts, rippling and filling the empty space behind the geth lines as fast as light travel time allowed. As the quarians watched, the geth cordon flared into a wide belt, then a sea of contacts dwarfing the quarian battle groups. The intelligence assessment on their screens was now horrifying reality. But the geth had only revealed their positions without attacking. They watched and waited for the creators to make their move.

"Keelah," Durane murmured, audible in the now silent CIC.

Daval stared, transfixed by the sheer number of geth contacts on the board. She lowered her head. There were fifteen million reasons to retreat, and only one to move forward. "Send word to all vessels," she said. "Break off the attack. Fall back to Dholen."

"Creator forces are retreating," Blue said to Tali, "and transiting through the relay back to Dholen."

"Keelah..." Tali slumped against the hull Normandy's shuttle, still parked on the surface of Orbital Body 413319. The Migrant Fleet had survived. As a quarian, she had been conditioned her entire life to believe nothing else mattered.

When the geth assault at the hub ended, the entire squad rushed Kasumi back to the Kodiak where medical equipment and an oxygen atmosphere were waiting. Even though it had not participated in the battle, Blue looked as beaten down as the rest of them. Once sleek and shiny, segments of its carapace had been removed by Cerberus, exposing tubes and points of light in its chest cavity. What armor it had left was crisscrossed with scratches and cracks from explosions when it joined the assault on the control room. Though damaged like the rest of the Normandy collective, it was fully operational. While the rest of the crew stepped inside to tend to Kasumi, Blue and Tali remained outside. Interfacing with Creator-Tali'Zorah now had the highest priority.

And in spite of everything that transpired, the betrayal by Admiral Xen, drive on Rannoch, the destruction of thousands of immobilized geth ships at the Tikkun relay, the geth allowed the Navy to retreat without pursuit. "Thank you," Tali said, shaking at the thought of how it might have otherwise gone. "Thank you for letting them go."

"You restored consensus to the collective. We could not use the freedom you bestowed upon us to destroy your people. We thank you, Creator-Tali'Zorah."

Tali stepped away from the shuttle to face the geth. "I don't have any right to ask this after everything we've done, but we still need your help. The Fleet's scattered between here and Raheel-Layya. And our food supplies will run out soon. In days, maybe. We need your help. You have every right not to trust us, but... is there any chance you'd be willing to send us the replacement liveship? Maybe pick up the peace process where we left off, after the Conclave voted to negotiate?"

The geth's flaps undulated around the perimeter of its head, seeking consensus. "Negotiation is no longer necessary. A more permanent solution is required, or conflict will inevitably resume. If the Creators agree to a cease-fire, the homeworld is yours."

Tali swayed, suddenly dizzy.

The geth platform reached out to steady her. Consensus dictated that it provide support until she was ready to stand on her own.