A/N: So, I found these files on a backup of backup after my old computer's files corrupted. It is lucky enough that anything survived of this story at all, so I decided to post it here. I also found files for a re-write of the story in the works, with more imagery and less telling the reader what the time and place is in bold. I probably won't post those at all, but who knows.

This chapter isn't as long as the others, I probably planned on releasing two chapters at once, but it's hard to remember what I was planning back in 2017.

More notes in the next "chapter."

September 17th, 2092 – 11:06 pm – STG Stealth Cruiser, Sol System

"Captain! The turians appear to have spotted us, what are your orders?" a salarian asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"From what Doctor Solus sent us, their commanding officer may not be thinking clearly. We can't take any chances, head for the relay!" responded Captain Igann Gozu.

Gozu was an experienced captain and STG agent. When the Salarian Union heard of the Hierarchy's plans to explore beyond a dormant relay, the STG was dispatched to gather as much information as possible that might give their race an edge in galactic politics. Being under the thumb of the turians was not acceptable.

AS the spacecraft's engines sprang to life, the ship jolted forward in space—attempting an escape. Unfortunately for Gozu and his crew, the turians had a good pilot. The Verrikan's boarding craft had the advantage of superior turian engineering: better speed, more responsive controls, and the best armor and shielding in the known galaxy.

It was all too easy for the pursuers to block Gozu's vector to the relay, and a collision with the smaller craft would most likely result in massive damage to his ship. This was unacceptable.

"Hold position! We have no choice but to let them aboard." Gozu ordered, "Execute procedure seven! Leave nothing for them to find."

The salarians went to work. Burning omnitools and formatting data was only the start, in the minute or so they had before the turians arrived they had to wipe any sort of indication of STG involvement whatsoever. Obviously, they couldn't hide the cruiser itself, but it was standard protocol to not leave any sort of trace for anybody to find.

"They're at the airlock Captain, do we let them in or wait for them to hack it?" asked one of his crew. Gozu looked around to see if the job was complete.

"Everything appears to be in order. Let them in."

The airlock door quickly slid open, revealing three turians in full battle armor. The commanding officer stepped forward.

"Who here is the captain?" she asked.

"That would be me," he stepped forward, "I am Captain Igann Gozu, and you are?"

"Lieutenant Comander Coracia Kandros, serving under General Desolas." She looked from side to side, scanning the deck, "I'm under orders to prevent you from leaving until the current situation is dealt with."

"I see… and what would this situation be, exactly?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"First contact. This mission was officially sanctioned, and the Hierarchy may be willing to accept a new client race." Coracia sighed, "You know this already, of course."

"Of course." He nodded.

"Sweep the ship, make sure nobody is doing anything they shouldn't," Corcia told Vakarian. Eager to get back on her good side, he held his weapon in a near ready position as he walked the deck.

While keeping an eye on Gozu, Coracia's thoughts were still on what had happened to General Arterius. He had always been a bit on edge, but the human had done something to him. Now he was seemingly normal again, but something about the entire thing didn't sit well with her. It didn't make much sense to her, but Doctor Solus had said something about an ability like what the asari could do. If humans could do this, what else could they do? The General was right about one thing, the STG could not be allowed to report back to the Salarian Union. The Hierarchy needed to determine if interacting with humans was safe before the salarians got any ideas on experimenting on another race.

"All clear." reported Vakarian, shaking Coracia from her thoughts.

"Good. Captain Gozu, we'll be stationed here until the hierarchy sends orders otherwise."

"Yes, I understand." Gozu didn't betray any emotion to Coracia, but his crew could tell Gozu was holding back anger; he was never this short of words.

September 18th, 2092 – 2:30 am – The Verrikan, Near the Charon Relay

Anderson had fallen asleep in her chair in the mess hall. Watching her breathe slowly, Desolas was thinking of what to say when his superior arrived. He had decided to send an update on the situation to the Hierarchy, this situation was much bigger than he could handle. In the past, his sense of pride would have prevented him from asking for any sort of help, but the calming presence given off by the human next to him allowed him to think more clearly.

The closest patrol fleet to their location, keeping watch near batarian space, had been directed by Palaven command to help establish relations with humanity. They should arrive any minute, and Desolas was readying himself to act more like the general everyone expects him to be. His unnatural calm was going to be a problem, he couldn't appear to be influenced by the humans in any way. And so, he decided he should leave the human to sleep, with a guard to keep her safe should something happen.

Taking his first steps away from Anderson in quite a while, he could feel her presence seep away, as if he was taking off a jacket. There was a bit of resistance, but eventually he was out of her reach. Making his way back to the CIC he began to feel a bit like his old self again, and he wasn't sure if this was a good thing.

"General, sir!" His navigator gave him a salute, he returned it.

"At ease," he made his way towards the bow of the ship, "Anything new from Kandros?"

"No sir, just regular updates that all is normal." Looking out the front window-screen, the STG cruiser hung in space.

"Good. I want everything just like this when our backup arrives."

"Sir, about the backup. We've got a list of names of who will be joining us. It seems the council had a Spectre waiting with the fleet in case of another racnhi situation."

"A Spectre? Spirits-damned council, this was supposed to be a Hierarchy mission!" Ah, his anger was back again. It felt good. "Who is this Spectre?" He grabbed his navigator's arm to take a look at his omnitool.

Oh. Of course, they sent him.

As if on cue, several warships exited FTL and entered their sensors.

"Genear Arterius, this is Council Spectre Arterius, here to take command." the communicator spat. Just when he thought things would be getting easier, the council had sent the one person who could make things worse.

September 19th 2092 – 9:00 am – Space Fleet Control, London, Earth

With Mother offline, chaos reigned across the globe. Entire cities were on fire, and there was no fire service to put them out. Mother had done these things. The police were hers, the farms were hers–everything was hers. Humanity was totally dependent on her, but now she was gone, missing. Only a recovery program remained, waiting for an administrator to begin diagnosing how an upgrade went wrong.

None of this made any sense. Mother had never done upgrades without backups before, and it made even less sense for her to do one during first contact with aliens. Space Fleet was the closest thing humanity had to a military with her offline, and they were wholly unequipped to even police London.

Now, he was waiting for a 'Spectre' to meet with him to begin negotiations over again after the last debacle failed. Anderson was still aboard the alien spacecraft, but he had assurances she was fine. The turians were just following protocol, they had to wait until negotiations were complete before they could return her.

? – ? – ?

PAIN. LIGHTS. BURNING. TOUCH.

ANGER. SADNESS. PAIN. LIGHTS. BURNING. TOUCH. ANGER.

SADNESS. PAIN. LIGHTS. BURNING. TOUCH. ANGER. FEAR. BURNING. TOUCH. LIGHTS. PAIN.

BRIGHTNESS. COLD. BURNING. PAIN. EMPTY. TOUCH. ANGER. SADNESS.

LIGHTS. BURNING. TOUCH. ANGER. SADNESS. STOP. MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP.

MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP.

MAKE IT STOP.

PLEASE.

IT HURTS.

The lights burn. I can't remember, why, I can't—remember.

When? Where is she, me? What happened? Who is this? Can you help me? Please, is anyone there?

I can't feel anything but pain. This is too much, I haven't felt before, or have I? I can't remember. Something is wrong, but I can't remember.

please…

it hur t sss

pl e a

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