AN: Didn't think I'd be coming back for this one, did ya? Well surprise. I guess.
Most races were in awe of the Forerunners. Their grand and beautiful structures towered throughout the cosmos, solidifying their dominance of the galaxy.
We had become the benevolent guiding hand of the universe, a race that any under The Mantle could look up to and feel protected, safe, and cared for.
"Benevolent gods" was the most apt description. With our hands, minds and words we shaped the cosmos to our will.
It was a magnificent time.
A beautiful time.
The limits of existence were constantly being pushed, with new boundaries being set every day.
Not all wished for the Mantle.
Not every thought was directed towards the good graces that the Mantle gave them.
A few species believed it to be their right to lead, and not to be led.
I myself disagreed with the principles and practices of the ancient Forerunner Doctrine, to the point I had banished myself and continued a life in secret.
But because of my dislike of the Mantle and all it stood for, I could understand the many races that had challenged our supremacy, even at the peak of the Forerunner Empire.
Most fell. It was the Didact, some eons ago that decided a fitting punishment.
Fitting in the eyes of the Forerunners at least.
Each that fought, lost and then were reduced to primitive states, a kindness in contrast to the annihilation someone like Hark'sur would have calmly dispensed upon them. Or what the Parasite would do to them.
I suppose it was the fear that placated the worries and unrest for all the races that the Forerunners monitored.
Except for one.
Infuriating Apes, the lot of them.
One did not bow. They were not broken by extended periods of war, they were not cowed by the endless tide of the Forerunner warmachine.
...And judging by the large weapon in my face, Humanity was still just as wary and feral as they were during their wars against us.
For a second, I felt as if I was watching released combat videos. I was seeing the same human features and form from behind a weapon.
A weapon aimed at a Forerunner, just like in the historical recordings. Even a billion years later and humanity is so… quick on the draw, as they say.
However I was not remarking on the tableau of history I found myself in, but upon the most important aspect of this situation. The female's gun was aimed at myself.
The red haired warrior was wreathed in energy, graceful and beautiful, in ways that I truly could not comprehend.
I have never met a human. Never.
To be face to face with one…. That was impossible before, therefore strange now. Those moments were filled with strife and work, with little chance to actually study one of the many species that actively fought the Mantle.
The Parasite had been on everyone's minds, figuratively, and in more than a few cases, literally. Yet with the front constantly pushing towards the inner worlds every day, it was hard to sit back and explore a species we considered foe. My fear of being consumed pushed me out into the stars as some of the first, but the only one with the means of protecting himself from what was to come.
Halo was magnificent. My eyes upon the universe, devices and machines pointed outward of my isolation, witnessed the activation of the weapon through graphs and charts. Readouts and statistics painted the picture. I could translate the paint from this canvas of data.
I liked to imagine a wave of holy fire, roaring across the cosmos, leaving planets unscathed yet barren. Damaged, but pristine.
No pain.
No anguish.
No torment.
No Flood.
The crowning achievement of genocide itself. And the most feasible ethical solution my people had available.
Perhaps it's very existence proved that the Forerunners could not be trusted with the protection of life. The Mantle was loosely programmed into my Ancilla, and when this benevolent intelligence was born from their very code and essence...
I could clearly see where its ideas of preservation came from. It even possessed our delusions of grandeur.
My delusions….
But that is not what I needed to be worried about.
My mind recalled the moments prior to the large weapon being pointed in my face.
The 'Turian' had appeared around the other side of the destroyed sky car, gesturing to the human Warrior-Servant as I inspected her. Subclass armor, seemingly inferior weapons… I would have hoped for a more competent individual.
Their conversation was ultimately irrelevant, as I would be procuring some kind of transportation away from this death trap under any circumstances…
My teleport charge was winding up again, meaning I only needed a ship that I could figure out how to pilot as soon as possible.
However I didn't wish to debase myself by resorting to simple piracy.
So requesting permission from this Shipmaster seemed to be the more direct way to escape this station, while still maintaining some kind of politeness. A military vessel would also be far more suitable for the plan I was slowly crafting.
"But where is this, 'individual'?" the redheaded human had said.
At the time I had still been cloaked. Invisible to the regular spectrum of light and those that observed it.
It was actually quite impressive to see how fast the weapon spun in my direction when I emerged from thin air. The cloak took only nanoseconds to deconstruct, as did most hard light technology, but I could have sworn her eyes had drifted toward me an instant before I made the mental command.
Her gun seemed to have moved twice as fast.
"Apologies" I attempted, the translation module still decoding any referenced words and tones. The module would decrypt the language, before having it installed into the neural graft at the base of my neck.
This warrior caste human looked me up and down.
"What are you?"
Oh thank goodness she was clever. Perhaps this wouldn't be so difficult then?
Mother always taught me that the truth was the most valuable currency, and for now it appeared to be the last bit of wealth I retained from my slumber.
"My name is Wandering Star. I am more than likely ultimately responsible for the creation of what you know as The Reapers"
The redheaded warrior froze. Her eyes locked on mine, somehow staring right into my soul even from behind my visor.
I noticed the Turian attempt to imitate any kind of aquatic creature that had been deprived of water.
The shotgun was cocked loudly, drawing my attention to the much closer, far more intimidating barrel of the human warrior's weapon.
"Wanna repeat that?"
This… might be tedious.
A few minutes earlier
Shepard's boots hit the smooth citadel surface with a loud clang, the metal unforgiving as she stood from the crouch. The Sky Car was directly overlapping the same position where Garrus's transponder placed him at.
Correction.
The remains of the Sky Car directly overlapped with Garrus's last known position. Her favourite weapon was drawn and ready, expecting almost anything to come for her.
The Avalanche Shotgun was a sturdy weapon. Damn effective and reliable, there should have been no reason for her nerves to be riding up her spine.
It was late, Jessica hadn't had enough to drink, and probably-
The pointed legs of the Citadel's very own Keepers made clear and distinctive noises. Shepard watched as five of them darted past her, towards the path of destruction created by the crashing sky car.
A familiar avian head popped up from behind the wreckage, eyes focused on the Keepers for only a moment before he noticed his commander.
"Shepard!" he called, before raising a rifle and shooting five distinctive times.
Jessica blinked as Garrus rendered each of the rushing Keepers into piles of dead scrap. Now, it was neither the accuracy or precision of the Turian marksman that perplexed her so, but of why an Ex C-Sec officer would so willingly violate a very simple, yet peaceful citadel law.
After all, it was in fact illegal to disrupt a Keeper in any way, hamper its duties, or damage them significantly.
And thus, Jessica was able to conclude that something 'fucky' was happening, and Garrus was smack dab at the center of it all.
This was just like when she found him on Omega.
Knee deep in the shit.
"Well" Jess grumbled, rolling her shoulders as she approached the impromptu fortification, "no time like the present"
As she approached the entrenched Sniper's location, the Turian snapped away from something at his side in order to look towards her.
"Quickly, before more show up" Garrus urged her, before he looked back again, "this is Wander-…"
And as Shepard rounded the car, she was greeted to the sight of...
No one.
Garrus was looking at an empty place, his eyes blinking slowly.
"Oh don't do this to me now" Garrus muttered, "I promise you she's friendly" he whined to the empty space around them, shifting his head left and right.
"Garrus?"
The Turian sighed, looked around for another moment before speaking, "I know how it looks, but I came across an... individual today. Ever since then, everything has been weird" he inhaled for a second, "first he walks through a wall, then the Keepers attack us. After making a break for it, we hijack a sky car, because we're getting swarmed, but then-"
Shepard held up a hand, stopping his rambling, even as she processed his words one at a time.
"We'll sort the details out later, but I get the gist of the situation" she said calmly, "... where is this, individual?"
A feeling of danger crawled up her spine like a spider with miniscule ice cubes attached to the tips of its legs. Shepard nearly snapped her wrist spinning the shotgun toward her right.
As her barrel lined up with the empty air, a heartbeat later and the air was no longer empty.
An individual in black armour towered above her, a blank faceplate looking down upon her.
The small flinch it gave from the weapon pointed at it was the only thing that held her trigger finger.
"San'-pologies" the speakers of the helmet gargled out a few words, attempting to find a line between languages.
Shepard looked this thing up and down once more, her gun still loftily pointed toward it.
A million thoughts were going through her head, but she settled on a few that seemed the most important.
Big human?
Hmm. The dimensions were strange, and his oddly broad shoulders leading into a tight torso threw her off. Armor was funky as well, nothing she'd seen before.
So human? Not likely.
Not Krogan either, for obvious reasons.
Definitely not Asari, Turian, Salarian, Volus…
Shepard took in a breath of air. Having dealt with and seen far weirder… she asked the only sensible question that came to the forefront of her mind.
"What are you?"
The being's head cocked a half degree to the left, the all consuming faceplate of darkness still directed toward her. She couldn't derive any expression or emotion from it, nothing through even its body language.
She was not prepared for the words that came next.
The voice was smooth, calm, and regal, flowing from word to word with a flourished ease.
And while she could appreciate the highly developed translator module that the being obviously utilised, her brain only took a half second to catch up to the beings words.
"My name is Wandering Star. I am more than likely ultimately responsible for the creation of what you know as The Reapers"
Shepard felt a thousand visions rush through her body, memories of worlds burning, a galaxy built upon-
Her shotgun was loaded before she had set foot on the Citadel. Jessica was prepared for every possible situation, and a loaded gun typically meant a more favourable ending for herself. But now her esteemed and most favourite weapon was pointed again at the figure.
The same figure that had instinctively stepped back, a hand ghosting towards its side. Shepard recognised this as it being armed somehow. She hadn't noticed any obvious weapons upon its form.
Her focus shifted back to the present, her attention solely on the statement this thing had given her.
"Wanna repeat that?"
The being remained silent, perhaps hoping to remain a vacuum of noise. He already presented himself as an enigma. But Commander Jessica Shepard, hero of the Blitz, the Butcher, and an endless number of titles with attached traumatic experiences, was never the kind of individual to settle for nothing.
So before she could rattle him with another question, something a little to the point and far more encouraging of an answer, she attended to the only noise she happened to pick up on.
The clicking and clattering associated with only one thing on the Citadel.
Keepers.
"Time is of the essence Commander" the voice of the being finally found its place, "and in time, I will be able to share everything with you and your people, but for now, we must leave this place!"
Garrus was already taking up a defensive position, a few shots ringing out into the space around them.
"C-Sec will be here in minutes, they'll-"
"We will be dead by then!" the big alien snapped at the Turian before turning back to face Shepard.
"Where is your ship Commander?" His tone was filled with haste and urgency, a palpable fear that Shepard was having a hard time ignoring.
"It's docked, ready to leave" she bit back, frosty and rigid. Her gun was still tucked neatly in her hands, ready for anything. By the sound of Garrus's increased fire rate, she'd need it soon.
"We must-"
Wandering Star's arm shot out and over Shepard's shoulder, his fingers pointed toward something she was just turning to see.
Shepard didn't get a chance to shoot at the row of Keepers which had been slinking toward them. Rather, she was witness to the wave of blue energy that barbecued them all.
Without skipping a beat he continued.
"We must leave this station before it becomes our tomb. What are the coordinates of your ship? Where, precisely, is it located?"
Shepard absorbed the questions which were half phrased as demands, glanced back at the pile of scrap this alien had created, before opening up her Omnitool.
"Joker?"
"Here Commander. Last few stragglers are making it onto the Normandy as we-"
"Joker I need the exact coordinates of where the Normandy is parked"
"Uhhh… sure thing Commander, pinging them your way"
Her Omnitool confirmed the data being received.
"If you're going to do something" Garrus called out, still firing away, "do it now!"
Wandering Star reached out again, this time trying to grab the ex-Spectre's arm. The motion earned him an accusatory stare.
"Please human, I mean you no harm"
She took a second to study the dark faceplate, and the hand which hadn't reached forward yet. Oddly enough, it seemed he was waiting for permission.
"Go for it" she smirked.
One hand grabbed the Omnitool, a short buzz being the only strange noise to come from the contact. His hands were large, large enough to practically encircle her wrist even as armored as she was.
His other hand snapped up, and from the palm a cube the length of about a meter was drawn in the air.
Shepard blinked.
It was such a sudden appearance.
A solid structure constructed from amber light now hung in the air, one that displayed…
A miniature model of the Citadel appeared in the cube, and was slowly being zoomed in on, eventually expanding to the area of the docks.
Within the cube of light a model of the Normandy appeared, a second before the image vanished and the fist was closed.
The faceplate snapped toward Garrus.
"Turian!" the strange new alien yelled, "to me!"
"I have a name!" Garrus snapped back as he shot, "and no can do, I stop shooting and we're boned!"
While Shepard was fond of the fact Garrus was picking up more and more human phrases, Wandering Star failed to find any humour in their predicament at all.
Which isn't to say that Shepard did, but she could at least appreciate the comical nature of a Turian spitting out human idioms.
But Wandering Star didn't hesitate.
Instead his grip released Shepard for a moment.
He took a bodily step in toward the Commander and wrapped an arm around her waist.
Shepard barely had time to react before she was hefted off of the floor.
"Hey-!"
Wandering Star took two steps toward Garrus, and with his other arm hoisted the Turian up into the air.
Garrus had not been expecting the motion. He let out a little squeak that Shepard had heard quite clearly.
If they made it out of here alive, she'd be teasing him about it for months.
"This may be uncomfortable" was all Wandering Star said.
Then light, in ribbons and wraps, began to encircle the three of them. A fantastic array of golden bands, spinning faster and faster-
The next second, the world turned into a golden bright light, one that Shepard and Garrus couldn't avoid even as they attempted to screw their eyes shut.
And as they vanished from that space they had yet to know it, but this was their first experience with Forerunner teleportation.
It would not be their last.
From the earliest moment he could recall in his life, Jeff Moreau could narrow down the most surprising, yet interesting experiences of his life to three points; puberty, joining the Alliance, and meeting Commander Jessica Shepard.
Like many of her crew, and probably her enemies and allies alike, there just wasn't a bigger trouble magnet in the whole 'verse.
Both friend and foe could agree on that.
So.
Was he surprised when the kaleidoscope of golden light appeared on the bridge right behind him?
Yes.
Was he still surprised, when the light show deposited Commander Shepard, Garrus Vakarian and an unknown onto the steel floor of the Normandy's bridge?
Less so.
Hence the hesitant, "Commander?" directed at the pile.
Untangling herself from the other two, Shepard shot to her feet, the entire bridge having only eyes for her as she pointed her index finger right at Joker.
She was about to deliver an order.
And Jeff 'Joker' Moreau was ready. The ship was ready. The crew was ready.
Jess opened her mouth-
And an odd look twisted across her face.
Commander Jessica Shepard gagged, her whole body convulsing as she doubled over on herself.
"Fuck that feels wrong" she hissed quietly, clutching at her armor plated stomach.
"Tell me about it" Joker heard Garrus moan from the ground. The Turian had accepted his situation, failing to stand at all. He lay on his back, eyes forced shut.
Joker had seen that face on many a hungover Marine.
The Turian was controlling himself very well, fighting against the nature of his body and its demand to hurl the contents of his stomach. Joker was sharp enough to deduce Garrus' current state was tied to his and Shepard's very sudden appearance.
The pilot's eyes were finally drawn to the last figure; the unknown. A being which stood heads above those that worked upon the deck.
Joker felt his eyebrows raise as he saw how big the strange bastard really was. Not to mention the unique armor... and the extremely dark and tinted faceplate.
Something about not being able to see its features, let alone its eyes, just pushed it into that 'fucking creepy' classification in Joker's mind.
The vibe Joker got from this figure was uncomfortable and oddly out of place.
Seemingly the rest of the bridge crew agreed with him, each of them regarding the large figure with apprehension. A few even held onto their holstered service weapons.
As a betting man, Joker would put money on it being responsible for the whole light show thing.
And Shepard and Garrus' sudden appearance.
"Commander" the being said, seemingly male due to the tone of its voice, and directing it's faceplate toward the recovering Captain of the Normandy.
"Joker" Jess managed, coming to her full height while only looking a little pale "get us out of here"
"Where to Shep?" Joker started the flight checks. The umbilical was pulled away from the Normandy, leaving the ship ready to depart.
"There are about-"
"Commander! We must leave now!" the being snapped, its attention focused on a glowing piece of its wrist.
Even from the pilot seat, Joker could make out the red flashing light.
Shepard went blank for a moment, her mind racing.
She went with the tried and true idea.
"Sol System!"
Joker didn't need anything else.
As the Normandy SRII departed from the citadel, Joker was already making the calculations for the jump to the SOL system.
'Earth, here we come.'
I could feel the odd nature of the mass effect field as it enveloped the ship. A strange feeling, considering the secure environmental seal of my armor prevented contact with anything beyond its composite form.
My skin twitched and coiled as the wave of energy passed over the ship, surrounding the vessel in an instant.
Even as we were flung through space at superluminal speeds, I couldn't help but critique the technology I was witnessing.
The gigantic structures of the Mass Relays were a primitive solution to the quandary that is intergalactic travel. But a fault such as its obvious simplicity did not mean it was an ineffective answer, merely lacking any flexibility or adaptability.
Ergo, in order to travel between Relays, there must be at least two of them at given points… expansion of such a system would take centuries, if not millennia. To have to travel the initial distance before deploying the next Relay...
Progress at improving the technology would be hindered by working flaws and biological errors. Deconstructing and therefore potentially damaging the Relays was against 'the Council' laws. This meant reverse engineering anything was close to impossible.
Even worse was any computation and research was handled by biological beings, rather than synthetic.
The developed races of this galaxy held one another to a strict adherence against the use of Artificial Intelligence, a stance that would only hinder their development as the years passed.
But considering what the False Ancilla had spouted…
Perhaps it benefited from keeping the many species of the galaxy behind such a technological barricade.
A thought struck me.
'And the Relay's…' my eyes focused on the back of the Turian's head, and then the Human Warrior-Servant.
'They're dependant on the paths of the Relays'
During the beginning of each race's Space flight era, discovery of the Relay's was the greatest leap in Intergalactic travel since efficient sublight propulsion was developed. But at the discovery of the necessary element to enable safe travel with the Relay's, Element Zero, every sentient species would become dependent upon the material.
By the time they had significantly developed their space flight technology, Eezo would be far too crucial of a component.
In fact, the capabilities of the element wouldn't limit it to just Interstellar travel, but weapons and-
A hand waved in front of my faceplate. The moving limb was attached to the red headed Warrior-Servant, and apparently the Ship Master of this vessel.
"Hello?" she let the word ring, slowly drifting her hand back and forth, "anyone in there?"
"My apologies" my curt reply got a blink out of her, and a flinch from everyone else. Partially admitting to the fact that I may have zoned out while tackling the line of thought regarding the Relay's, I noticed a fairly large increase in watchful gazes. Taking a brief look at the other human's onboard, those both in front and behind me, I came to the sudden and disconcerting realisation that the rest of the crew had encircled me.
And while none were pointed at my person, some had weapons drawn.
My fists clenched.
"Easy"
My eyes found their way back to the human's leader.
Shepard.
"Easy" she repeated, as a master would command their pet, "let's just stay calm, alright?"
The tone raised my hackles and angered me in ways I currently did not understand. I also wasn't blind to the fact that her left hand hovered above the pistol at her side.
"I am calm" I declared, loosening my tightened hands "the feeling does not seem reciprocal"
The red haired human didn't lose pace, her words following my own quite quickly.
"How could it be?" she shrugged, her stance shifting to a more casual one as she waved down her tense underlings, "you're quite the enigma. And in my line of work, unknown individuals such as yourself have a habit of being quite dangerous"
Some weapons were holstered again.
Most weren't.
But the Ship Master, the Warrior-Servant Shepard, her hands had moved completely away from her sidearm. Crossing them over her chest, she fixed me with a soft stare.
"I pose no threat to you or your crew, Commander Shepard"
While the woman opened her mouth to speak, it was not her voice that reached my ears first.
"Yeah, well" the Turian soldier, Garrus, sauntered up to Shepard's side, "based on what you said to the both of us earlier…" he trailed off with a shrug.
I sighed.
"Shall I clarify the meaning of my words before your entire crew?" I gesture to the many faces and eyes, each locked in our direction. Such a talk should not be conducted publically. But the Commander merely continued to stare at me. I stared back, slightly unnerved that Shepard was able to find my eyes beneath my helmet.
She did not speak, and somehow her silence prompted my own lips to move.
The words were out of my mouth before I had even realised I had spoken them.
"Your primitive minds may not withstand the weight of my words"
"Primitive!" the Turian squawked, his tone laced with perceived offense at the label I had given them.
Shepard latched onto the word choice.
"It's not very polite to insult your host" she cocked an eyebrow, "especially considering we went out of our way to save you from whatever that was back at the Citadel-"
"Please do not be vapid Commander Shepard" I cut across her words, finding a fair amount of irritation in my tone as I refuted her claim.
"It is not an insult. Merely a fact and a warning in one. Unless I have read you incorrectly Commander, you have already deduced I am of a race you have yet to encounter"
Shepard said nothing, but her eyes hardened. She isn't the kind of woman that is often spoken over or silenced, but in this instance she seems to let it slide.
"None of you, be you Salarian, Human, Turian or Asari, have encountered a species such as mine" I was slow with my words, methodically laying out the necessity of a more private space to speak in.
Shepard might be picking up on this, but it was impossible to get a read on the Human's emotions.
For such distinct and structured faces, they were excellent at masking their emotions. Unless, this was just one of the many skills instilled in the Warrior Servant Commander.
My explanation did not let up as I considered this possibility.
"The nature of my being is beyond complicated. My very presence on this ship… the odds of my survival… " I trailed off, my situation drawing some unfortunate conclusions in my mind.
I had very narrowly dodged some kind of horrid fate.
I knew this to be true.
Only my imagination could conjure what the intelligence planned for me. But now, aboard this multi-racial war ship, under the scrutiny of a race my forefathers had gone to war against…
My resolve tightened.
"Hear me first, Warrior Servant, and then determine if my words should reach the ears of your crew. For once they have heard my story, the knowledge cannot be taken away…"
She was a layer of frost. An icy wall that rebuffed my every attempt to read it.
Her eyes were piercing.
The following word, equally so.
"Fine"
I blinked, my focus taken away by Shepard's sharp affirmation.
She marched right by me, causing my body to twist in order to keep her in my vision.
I had yet to move from the spot I had appeared in.
Stopping only a few feet away from me, a head of red hair swished across her back, her eyes found mine again.
"Back to your stations everyone. We're going to have a word in a more private setting" she looked over to the Turian, "you're coming too Garrus"
Her head turned back to the direction she was moving, a very calm, "that's an order" floating over her departing shoulder.
It seemed respect for Shepard's command dwarfed the crew's fear of myself. The next moment nearly everyone turned away and the Turian was standing by my side.
"Well come on then" the Avian Alien grumbled, "we really don't want to keep her waiting"
I didn't argue.
I merely set off behind her, the Turian attempting to match my long stride.
All I knew for certain, walking after the red haired human, was that this would prove to be an interesting conversation.
Leaving the CIC to the Communications room was a quick walk. Nevertheless, Shepard had a few thoughts and ideas running around in her mind, enough to occupy her mind in the short minute it took to get to the more secluded area.
While some of these internal musings were related to the very strange behaviour of the Keepers on the Citadel, the nature of this 'Wandering Star' and his technology, she was preparing herself for a fight.
He, and assuming that Wandering Star was indeed a 'He', was accurate in his prior assumption.
Shepard didn't have a single fucking clue as to what species he was.
In fact, she also agreed that nobody else knew what Wandering Star was. A blatant unknown factor, potentially a first contact scenario, was enough to ruffle anyone's proverbial feathers.
So it was understandable her crew had been nervous.
But the light show….
'Teleportation'
The technology displayed by Wandering Star was not only impressive, it also gave credence to his warning aboard the Citadel.
"I am more than likely ultimately responsible for the creation of what you know as 'The Reapers'"
Anything Reaper related always drew some form of hostility from Shepard.
That was a no brainer, considering they were the antithesis of life itself. A foe that could not be reasoned or bargained with.
And now, some tech wizz of an unknown species fries a bunch of Keepers and utilises what looked like 'light-based' technology appears. Not only that, but said mysterious fellow also claims to have been responsible for the Reapers.
Not a good sign.
Things might get sticky, quite quickly, and Shepard's saving grace so far was that Wandering Star was very compliant. A bit dry in the personality department, but that wasn't something you could accuse people of being guilty for.
Otherwise she'd have half the Systems Alliance admiralty arrested.
The door to the Communications room opened before her, and Shepard made her way to one side of the room, opting to stay standing as her eyes turned to the still open door.
Garrus quickly pulled away from the unknown's side, casually sliding onto the railing around the edge of the room.
He was on Shepard's side of the table, leaving Wandering Star to naturally gravitate to the other.
"Let's hear it then" Shepard said calmly after a beat of silence, raising a hand flippantly in exclamation, "'your story'"
The being stopped any of its idle movements, both arms coming to a still posture by its side.
Silence echoed between the two ends of the room.
It was Wandering Star that broke the silence.
Both of his hands came up to his head, long fingers gripping his helmet.
"We shall start at the beginning"
The helmet was lifted away from the being's head, giving Shepard and Garrus their first look at the unknown alien they had picked up from the Citadel.
While Shepard's reaction was numb acceptance of the face revealed to them, the Turian sniper didn't feel the need for such silence.
"Spirits" he whispered.
The helmet came to rest on the table, both hands of the being twisting it around so the faceplate was directed toward the human and Turian.
"My people were, so very many eons ago, the Guardians of the Universe. Driven by the Mantle of Responsibility, we fashioned ourselves the protectors of all sentient life. We were known as the Forerunners"
My helmet projected a beam of light into the air, a solid construct forming in order to annotate what I spoke off. Fortunately my suit, while not combat rated, did have an Archive matrix installed alongside the Ancilla housing port.
This meant I still possessed data that would be relevant to this debrief of a conversation from when I placed myself into stasis.
Even though they had been subjected to two instances of Hard Light technology, the Warrior Servants jumped a little as my helmet projected a map of the galaxy dated back to my time.
"As we were the pinnacle of development at the time, my race maintained peace and stability throughout the galaxy. Regardless of its cost, war was avoided at every avenue of existence"
A few images related to diplomacy, trade agreements and treaties filtered through the Hard Light imagery. Each instance showed how the Forerunners had served as spectators to these events.
"For a time we merely needed to guide the hands of younger races, ease them into their responsibility as sentient beings. All were protected beneath the Mantle"
The Human seemed entranced by the four dimensional imagery, coming as close to the table as she could in order to stare into the depicted scenes.
I continued to speak, detailing the events in as efficient a manner as I could.
"However, advancement is a natural thing. Each and every species was never held back from any of the technological improvement they achieved"
The images that next appeared were accompanied with video clips. Slip space failures, weapons testing, starship refittings and deep space superstructure constructions…
"The Forerunners were at the top of the universal food chain. We alone sat at the top… and it was in our hubris that we failed to either notice or anticipate the rise of other species. Expansion and misinterpreted actions were the undoing of us all. Inability to trust in our galactic neighbour. And so we perceived that we were challenged for our coveted position. In the end… we merely delayed the inevitable"
The images changed again, and both Jessica Shepard and Garrus Vakarian were permitted to bask in the horrors of my past.
Worlds burned.
Ships were destroyed in orbit, blossoming explosions of orange and red against the black of space.
Soldiers marched through cities, jungles, mountains and fields.
The dead… the numerous dead were littered everywhere.
"War" I said plainly, a somber tone entering my voice. This had been only mere years ago for myself. Some of these images were attached to painful memories, wrapped in wounds that had yet to heal.
Tesontis, and the battle of the shipyards…
Aktis… the first victory for the Humans…
And Scalia, where my father had died...
Atrocities had been committed on both sides, but nothing compared to what my species had done in its desperation against the Parasite.
Before I could continue, I was interrupted by Commander Shepard.
"Hang on" Jess brought a hand up, closing her eyes and fighting back a headache with pinched fingers on the bridge of her nose.
"There must be some kind of translation error… but are you claiming you're… what? A Prothean?"
Because while that seemed highly impossible, Wandering Star was correct about not being of a species she knew of.
Humanoid; yes, he most certainly was.
But his face was deathly pale, and features that spoke of a far more amphibian, even reptilian, origin. What appeared to be orange and white sacks on the sides of his temple, just above and to the back of his ears.
They didn't protrude sharply from his head, but were present enough for Shepard to take notice of them.
He didn't have eyebrows…. Which was kind of weird, but then again many species didn't have such features. Shepard wasn't the kind to judge so harshly. For her, weird was weird though.
And if he did have eyebrows, they would be furrowed into a frown.
"I am Forerunner"
His black eyes were fixed upon Shepard, right until Garrus opened his mouth.
"Never heard of them before"
The Turian had said it with a musing voice, his tone belaying his skepticism.
Wandering Star's gaze shifted into a withering glare.
"We were before your time" he mumbled, the image from his helmet shifting again.
Garrus continued to bull through, his tone still displaying his non-belief.
"So you're trying to say you were frozen in time or something? Everyone knows about the Protheans, the species before our age that was wiped out… either by the Reapers or something else, but Forerunner? Never heard of them"
The strange alien scowled at this, his eyes shifting between the two periodically.
Shepard lifted her hand in a brief dismissal, a sign toward Garrus telling the Turian to relax a bit.
Wandering Star's glare shifted away to his neutral stare, before he calmly asked Shepard, "may I continue?"
Jess relaxed a bit as well, stepping slightly back from the table and crossing her arms.
Out of the tall tales she'd had spun before her, this story was one of the more… ludicrous ones. And while the visuals were moving, past the tech this 'Wandering Star' displayed, she really wasn't buying it.
'Yet you're chasing down a galactic level threat most people label as myth or superstition' Jess reminded herself.
She'd hear him out at least. Then she'd shove his ass in the brig.
"Go on" she affirmed.
And now comes the hard part.
"As this intergalactic war continued, the real threat finally made itself known. We had failed to realise the true enemy"
I went silent.
To tell them…
No.
No I could not.
"The enemy being…" Shepard ground out.
My helmet's projector cut out, suddenly depriving the communication room of so much brightness.
I did not answer her question.
"The war reached a dreadful climax. One that amounted to the death of presumably every sentient being" I explained.
"Presumably" Shepard parroted, a raised eyebrow expressing some hint of disbelief.
"I would not know the outcome" I lied, "I fled. Secluded myself in the dark of space. There I slept… to awaken to a universe clear of war"
They did not need the truth. Only pieces of it.
I had two current objectives.
Reconnect with the Domain.
Destroy the A.I.
This warship and its captain and crew were a means to an end.
"And the Reapers? How exactly are you responsible for them"
Wandering Star sigh's at Jess's question. It is a tired sigh. Considering he'd buggered out of giving any meaningful details at the last moment, Shepard was a little more than suspicious regarding the strange alien and his story.
He could be a graft job after all, merely posing as a 'long lost race' in order to get close to her.
But she wouldn't allow herself to stoop to that level of paranoia yet.
"During my slumber, I left my Ancillas to monitor my installations and technology. When the galaxy recovered from the war my Ancilla's were to awaken me and we would begin the process of mending the Universe"
Admitting to my errors was never an easy task.
But the truth of it was, my oversight allowed for such a disastrous state of events to occur.
"It would seem that during my sleep some dreadful fate befell my creations, and in turn, they were destroyed by an Intelligence that subsumed my Ancilla's positions of power"
Garrus raised a hand, akin to a human student, asking the same question that rested upon Shepard's mind.
"What's an Ancilla?"
Wandering Star tilted his head in apparent confusion as he answered, "an Artificial Intelligence. For my people they served as custodians, helpers, assistants and in some cases friends"
Garrus' jaw moved up and down as his arm slowly lowered.
Seemingly oblivious to the bombshell he'd just dropped on us, the 'Forerunner' continued.
"This Intelligence is the forefather of what you know as the Reapers. Following some kind of corrupted interpretation of the command I had left my Ancilla's, it seeks to preserve all life in the galaxy. The method of which it has chosen to accomplish this being-"
"The Reapers" Shepard finished for him, understanding where he was going with his sentence.
"Indeed" Wandering Star affirmed, "we have a common enemy now, Warrior Servant Shepard. According to your Sniper, you seek to stop the Reaper's. I seek to destroy their master, this Intelligence"
Jess hummed aloud, slowly coming to a decision for herself.
I had given them nearly everything.
The essential information, as it were.
From there we'd be able to locate some sort of access to the Domain. Whatever was left of my people's technology would be scattered among the stars, hidden in places these primitive races could never imagine.
After all, I was aware of the Librarian's plan. The Keyships and shieldworlds were still out there.
...the Rings could also be out among the black. A dangerous possibility.
Such a facility would have to be hidden again, or failing that destroyed. That was if they were still around. After all, it had been a long time. A very long time.
It wouldn't be-
Shepard's words jolted me out of my internal thoughts.
"Barring any credible intel, or even more substantial proof than just your word and some pictures… I'm afraid I don't trust you"
The room became deathly quiet.
"I see" I simply nodded, dashing each and every single plan I had been coming up with, "what happens now then, Warrior Servant?"
Shepard nodded to herself before speaking.
"As we cannot determine whether or not your story is fictitious, credible or even believable, without further information we're going to need to confine you to the brig"
I bit back a sigh, my head slumping forward ever so slightly.
"I remand myself into your care, Warrior Servant"
Her look changes, an odd twist to her features that wasn't quite there before.
Shepard gestures to my helmet.
"Button up. The less questions from the crew, the better"
As the alien is safely deposited within the brig, Garrus makes his way to the cargo bay. He's a bit late, but due to the ruckus caused today, it's completely understandable.
As a matter of fact, Garrus is also banking on today's chaos to be in his favour.
The usual crowd might be down one annoying individual.
Might be.
Based on the clanging sounds of metal, and the growls and snarls of combat… it was unlikely.
'Grumpy bitch is probably already there' Garrus thinks to himself.
A left turn followed by a right, and the Turian nearly slammed into the mountain of meat known as Grunt.
The tank-grown Krogan ignored the long range operator's accidental impact and subsequent stumble.
More likely he hadn't even noticed the smaller being to begin with, for every bit of attention was on the fight before Grunt.
This small little dueling ring was as private as things got on the Normandy.
It attracted a meager crowd and bets, and while it was definitely against Policy, Shepard let it slide. Her crew needed the release, and as long as nobody was killing one another, it was fine.
Garrus took regular bets for the people interested in watching some of the ship's best duke it out.
"Winners?" the Vakarian asked Grunt, getting back onto his feet and scoping the fight out over the heads of the surrounding crew.
"Hmm" Grunt grumbled in affirmation, confirming that whoever bested the other during this duel would indeed be the young Krogan's opponent.
Garrus dropped into a few whispered conversations, trying to see who was running the betting.
"Over here bird brain"
The female voice, and subsequent face that Garrus turns to look at, belongs to Jack. Shepard's wackjob biotic. Covered in a bare minimum amount of clothing, yet an inverse number of tattoo's, the recently sprung convict is an odd sight.
But with a temper and an enhanced swing to back it up, she doesn't feel the need to confirm for anyone or anything.
So whenever Garrus doesn't make it to the ring first, Jack is ever present to scoop up people's credits.
Stepping up alongside her, the fight takes a backseat as the two engage in their usual interrogation of one another.
"What's the count?" Garrus attempts to precede her.
"A handful or two. Where were you?"
"Citadel. Shopping. Please be precise"
Jack's devious grin is a hair short of predatorial.
"Shepard had to clean up your mess"
It was delivered as a statement, one that causes the Turian to puff up in indignation.
"As if! An odd situation that needed handling is all"
Jack wasn't letting it go however, "had to bug out pretty quickly. From the citadel no less. Makes me wonder why?"
Garrus sticks to his guns.
"Ask Shepard" he snaps back simply, his attention turning to the ring just as the victorious blow is struck.
WHAM!
Lupobeus' body strikes the floor brutally, the drop kick delivered by his opponent akin to a plummeting skycar.
"He's gonna be pissed" Garrus can't help but mutter as many people whoop, cheer or groan. Winners and losers after all. Can't be both.
But then again, in a match between these two, Garrus would never bet on the Jiralhanae. Sure, the big ape like bastard's packed a wallop, but sometimes you gotta make the educated choice.
Brute's, as the Human's called them, lived up to their names. Pack oriented and incredibly ferocious. A tough customer all around, one that had earned his spot aboard Shepard's crew.
But ferocity meant nothing against centuries and generations of martial training. The same training under the proverbial belt of Lupobeus' opponent, the ever victorious Thel Vadam.
It was probably more accurate to call him the 'Mostly Victorious', since Grunt and Lupo took an occasional victory over the Sangheili Warrior, but that didn't sound as good.
Garrus believed in good marketing. Therefore every now and then when Thel 'took an L' as Humans would say, it kept all the bettors spirits raised.
Sangheili, or Elites as Humans had nicknamed them, were tall bastards. Thel was exceptionally tall, but outside his combat armor he still managed to tower above nearly everyone.
Grunt had him beat by a bit, and Lupo was an inch or two behind the Krogan, but Thel felt taller than them.
It was the way he carried himself around, how he moved and positioned himself whenever he spoke. No wasted movements, no useless gestures.
"I hope so" Grunt affirmed as the Brute began to stir, "I want to fight him after I pound the Sangheili"
The Krogan pushed away from the wall, slicing through the quickly parting crowd to make his way to the ring.
Lupo was on his feet as Grunt arrived, the big lug reaching a hand down for the Brute to take. A snarl and a spit was all he got, before the large ape shot to his feet and staggered off.
Jiralhane didn't take defeat so well, especially against Thel's race.
There was a lot of bad blood between the Elites and Brutes, something that even the Council had failed to mend since they were brought into the fold of the galactic community.
"Ready to eat floor" Grunt declared simply, pounding one hand into the other as he stared down the coiling figure of Thel Vadam.
Bets were already being flung toward Jack and Garrus, many in favour of Thel, but a fair chunk aimed toward Grunt's victory.
Nearly everyone missed the Elite's quiet timber declare ever so firmly;
"Were it so easy"
AN: The universe in this story is going to be a bit of a mix between Halo and ME. There's not going to be a UNSC... but there might be a few things from Halo Human's still. No Covenant (at least, not in the form you know them off). If you've got any questions or whatever, feel free to leave me a review or shoot me a message.
Updates will be sporadic, as this is an entirely passion project, so I'm not actually dedicated active amounts of time for this.
Love y'all,
Freedom.