AN/: Back again with another chapter. Big shout-out to PartyPat22 who proofread this chapter to help catch my mistakes before I posted this time around, thanks again buddy! Also thanks to PartyPat(again), Colstrent, Typedoutatnight, and Saint Dismas for their reviews! Anyways, let's dive back in.

"Our knowledge of life is limited to death. What will happen afterwards? And what can possibly become of us?"-Erich Maria Remarque, All Quiet on the Western Front

Chapter 4: Outlier

After a few hours of napping, I woke up, unable to force myself back to the darkness. The soreness in my back and now my face had flared up again. I turned to sit on my cot, grimacing and squinting my eyes through the bearable, but annoying, pain. I found the rest of my team silent or asleep.

Lucus was passed out in his cot, with several discarded bags of rations lying neatly stacked beside his bed as he snored. He slept on his back with his hands clasped together in front of him.

Perhaps that's where the selection board saw the soldier in him.

Pago was also asleep, with his back turned to the room and his face towards the wall. He slept silently and it almost appeared that he wasn't even breathing, except for every few moments when he snatched a short breath, probably a reaction to some dream.

Vellia, however, was in a meditative stance on the floor at the center of the room. The Cabal was utterly still. Vellia's legs were crossed, with her hands resting open on top of her knees. I never knew if she slept like that, but I did know she barely slept at all. She had mentioned to me that her constant meditation helped keep her head clear. I knew it hurt her, like it did all of us, to leave Taetrus behind after all that happened. I won't argue the fact she suffered the worst out of all of us. Even though Vellia was combat hungry, she was a very thoughtful individual. I had a feeling that Blackwatch brass would try and split us once we got back to Menae, but I was going to do everything in my power to prevent that. Both Vellia and Pago had made themselves inseparable from the team.

"What are you thinking about?" Vellia asked, with her helmet now removed. Her chalky-white face was amplified by the artificial light of the room, with her green eyes not even stuttering as she kept her focus on the metal floor.

"It seems everyone wants to know the answer to that question," I said earnestly, my voice barely reaching above a whisper.

"Do you know the answer?"

"Maybe."

"Well, that's a start then. If you want my guess, I'd have to say something about leaving the planet we slaved over for a year only to get a fallen spirit to whisk us away at a moment's notice."

"Is that what you think of Mareus, a fallen spirit?"

She chuckled pretty heartily at that comment. "No, but I personally remain pessimistic of our chances with him."

"And why's that?"

"You think it's just coincidence that we were the only able-bodied troops that got to walk away? There were plenty of others that had to stay behind."

"Well, they were ordered to defend their posts to the end. We didn't have that sort of leash on us."

"Caen, it's not that simple."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You seriously don't think Mareus didn't try and wrangle hold of us as soon as we were on station from Verilus? I guarantee you he did."

"What's making you say all this?"

"Why don't you go and have your 'talk' with him. That may provide some answers."

What the fuck is she on about?

"Alright," I sighed, lifting myself to my feet with an added grunt, "No wonder I wasn't the spy type."

"Spies aren't the only ones playing at subterfuge, Caen. A primarch or a general is typically the one telling them what to do."

My mind was all twisted as she said that. I walked out of the room, the automatic door sliding shut behind me, leaving me alone to the sound of the Heraklion humming away as if the galaxy was in total order.

I headed back up to the bridge to find the previously buzzing hive to be dormant, save for Mareus and a few of the higher-ranking officers.

"The Hierarchy hasn't even fully organized the response fleet yet," the XO, Captain Quinlus droopily said, his vigor from before seemingly gone, "There's no way they're getting to Taetrus. Judging from the projections, they're probably going to be in the Trebia system and on the ground in Palaven within two weeks, likely even earlier."

What? They were lying to Prosco the whole time? They knew there was nothing they could do in time and gave him the false hope that ended up killing them all!

I had to swallow my anger, like every good Turian soldier, as I approached the strategic map. I stood there silently, a meter or so to the right of Mareus. The junior admiral rested his head on his right hand as he gazed longingly into the virtual image of the stars.

"Oh people, know that you have committed great sins. If you ask me what proof I have for these words, I say it is because I am the punishment of God. If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you . . ." the young Stilchi muttered to himself. He turned his head slightly towards me a moment later and nodded. "You know where I heard that?"

"On Earth," I replied, "Only humans talk about their God in that manner."

"Yes," Mareus said, as he dismissed the rest of his retinue, "But have you heard those words before?"

"No."

"It's the saying of supposedly one of the greatest conquerors of the human race. The words felt apt as we look into the eyes of this monster . . . the Reapers."

"One we seem to be already shooting ourselves in the foot against, sir."

Again, Mareus betrayed his confusion, his eyes darting for a fleeting moment, like they had with my refusal to accept his previously articulated request, but he quickly acquiesced. "Well, that's to be expected, Captain. We're a big monolith. And after the civil war, Taetrus is a moral battlefield as well as a military one."

"Sure, and we've already wasted too much time to actually attack. We need to defend Palaven. If they smashed the Batarians at the speed the reports said, they're going to be there a lot faster than anyone expects right now. As much as I'd love to go back and kick their asses, I'm not going to do it when there's absolutely no chance of winning."

Mareus looked back over to the map, humming in thought, "And what do we tell the people on Palaven? That we aren't going to try? When Primarch Fedorian addresses the people on this, they're going to want blood and fast."

"This war . . . it's not the same as any other we've fought. We go in alone? Say goodbye to all of those men and ships. You're not getting them back. We need help from the fucking Council."

"Good luck getting that," Mareus chuckled, "We're going to have competition for getting help first. Earth has fallen."

"You can't be serious."

"I am. The Reapers have so many ships they're attacking on several fronts with unstoppable force. No one has been able to even slow them down yet."

"And that's why the brass wants to counter? They think that is going to slow the Reapers down?"

Mareus grimly looked back towards me, "It's the only plan everyone can agree on right now. My tactics for small maneuvering fleets are going to be useless against a force like this. Only sheer firepower and strength is going to win this. As much as it pains me to do so, I have to accept this reality. I don't like it. But there it is."

"So, where does that leave us? What are you going to do?"

"Well, as the sole survivor of the tenth fleet, we have to report back in to Palaven. I'm sure the Primarch and the rest of the high command probably wants to hear about the situation."

Oh, he just has the ear of the Primarch and everyone at his beck and call . . .

"And what about my team?"

"I'll make sure you get to wherever you need to go, Captain. You name it."

"Menae. I'll forward you the coordinates for our headquarters." I worked away at my omni-tool for a second as I linked him the data.

"I have it, Captain. Menae will be our first stop once we're in the Trebia system."

"Thank you, sir," I answered as I turned around and headed back down the stairs to the team room.

Now my suspicions were immediately focused back on Vellia.

Mareus seemed like just another high-brow trailblazer. Not really as special as I thought. Why was Vell so worried?

I walked back to the bunk room and opened the door to find Lucus and Pago still out cold as Vell was sitting in a relaxed stance against her cot. I motioned for her to come out into the hallway, and she quickly jumped to her feet and came through the doorway.

"How was the conversation?" Vellia asked, her smarminess from before completely gone.

"I didn't see what you're overly pessimistic about, Vell. He just seems like a typical upper-crust officer who thinks he's a trailblazer."

She looked over her shoulder for a moment as she let out a long sigh. "I know you don't have any good reason to really trust me. But, I know his family a little bit better than the average person would. And they're . . . not the paragons of Turian virtue that the people believe they are."

I cocked my head at her response and gave a sarcastic huff, "Upper crust families have major issues. I am absolutely astounded at this development, Vell." It only took a moment for my statement to twist Vellia's face into anger.

"Do you just not get it?"

"I don't understand what sort of crazy theory you're trying to posit at my feet with no evidence beyond, 'they're bad and I know it'. I know you may not want to give up info, but that's the only way you're going to convince me. I'm sorry if that's not what you want to do."

Vellia dropped her head for a moment, taking some time to gather her thoughts together, and then she glared back up at me. Her eyes were filled with conviction now. "Do you know why the Saren-Blackwatch rumors started?"

"No, I don't. But I guess you have something to explain why."

Vellia lightened back up at that comment. "Well, to explain it simply, I'm the reason they started."

What the fuck did she just say?

My open mouth must have betrayed my shocked thoughts as Vellia laughed softly, glancing back over her shoulder again. "Yeah, I'll go ahead and apologize for that Caen."

"For starting it?"

"No. For being Saren's younger sister."

My eyes began bulging to exorbitant sizes. "That's . . . not possible."

"Says who? Do you think anyone actually bothered to check whether Saren had any other siblings besides Desolas?"

"It just . . ."

"Seems crazy?"

"Yeah, more than a little." I sighed, shaking my head to ward off the growing cloud that seemed to be forming inside my mind.

"My parents . . . have connections. What people don't tell you about my brother is that they pulled the strings to help him earn all those early promotions, at least within the Hierarchy. The Council made him a Spectre because they wanted a killer. And Saren was that, to a major degree."

"Sure," I replied holding up my hands, "But what does this have to do with you saying your family name is Macer, and having to lie to everyone about your identity?"

"I'm under orders to."

"From who?"

"Well, since I already broke those orders, what does it matter? Primarch Fedorian."

"And why does he care?"

"You need to stop with the jokes, Caen. Do you realize the repercussions of letting another Arterius sibling serve in the special forces when the others had . . . such bad outcomes? If people found out, who knows what would happen. They'd ask me to answer for my brother's crimes. It's not like I only really spoke to him two or three times in my whole life, and that we never got along. The other races, especially the humans, would want me impaled on a stake. My parents pulled the strings to get me with the Cabals anyway since I wanted out."

"Why didn't you go merc then?"

"Caen, I'm not that much of an asshole. I was never in it for the money. And besides, Turian biotics don't have the best of reputations. Mostly, we're known for getting killed."

"Except you."

"Yeah . . . except me apparently."

It took a little bit longer and some silence for all those facts to sink in. I still couldn't quite believe the story. It seemed way too far-fetched, but even so, Vellia's talent in combat was undeniable. And her reasoning did have some sense to it. Turians are very good at accepting things at face-value a lot of the time. We don't like to dig into the muck.

But here I was.

Knee-deep in the muck.

"So what does this have to do with 'fallen spirit' Mareus up there?" I finally asked, hoping for a real answer this time.

"The Stilchi and the Arterius blood-lines go way back. They've been partners, in war and sometimes in crime. My father was good friends with Fleet Admiral Stilchus, Mareus' father. Was. And if you're enough of a major scheming bastard to make Arterius the elder pop off, that means something Caen."

"Like father, like son, essentially?"

"Don't get me wrong, he is very tactically smart. But don't think for a moment his position didn't come without a body-count of his competitors. A good friend of mine growing up had his career ended by Mareus when he disregarded a reckless direct order from Mareus during the War on Taetrus. Everyone thought Mareus was going to get bumped down in rank, but my friend was forced to resign. He . . . killed himself because he was so distraught over the black mark he left on his family."

"Spirits," I sighed, "I'm sorry Vell. Hopefully, whatever happens, none of us will end up near him for the foreseeable future. But if we do, I have your back."

"Thanks Caen," she replied as she came over and gave me a side-hug, "Thanks for being the older brother that actually listened to me for once."

"Anytime, Vell."

-In the calmer times of 2184, and on calmer tides . . .-

"It's not quite like Parthia, but it has its own appeals."

My thirty-four-year-old brother, Nasicus Pius, beamed as he showed off the balcony view of his new apartment on the Citadel, where you could see almost the whole station, above and around, from that very spot. Nasicus' dark black plating and white tattoos stood out strongly compared to his dark blue outfit. He had bright green eyes that never appeared strained or taxed, despite his busy life.

"It's not bad," I added, "You haven't done too bad for yourself."

"The perks of being a weapon designer for Cipirtine," he huffed as he took a seat at a small wooden table, and motioned for me to join him at another seat near him, "I was never the combat reveler type. You fit that mold much better than I ever could, Caen."

I laughed, "If that's what you want to call my effort, I won't protest."

"Oh come on," my brother scoffed, "You're in Blackwatch, and as an officer, by the Spirits' sakes! Give yourself some credit for once!"

"I haven't done much beyond get in, Nas."

"Don't you worry about that, brother," Nasicus said as he clenched his fist, "Now you're in the club that fights so much it makes war look like a cakewalk compared to peacetime."

"Sure, sure," I replied, waving him off, "Let's not talk about that. Leave is for not doing and talking about those kinds of things."

"You're right," Nasicus held his hands up, in mock defeat, "I shouldn't have steered the conversation that way."

"We're our father's sons, Nas."

"Isn't that the truth."

"What are you two boys talking about out here?"

That was the voice of Sabrina.

Sabrina was my brother's wife, a human who had spent a decent chunk of her life on Earth, but had moved on into the stars to find a new future for herself, and as a result, found my brother. A German farm girl finding a Turian weapons designer on the Citadel. Not everyone would be willing to hitch themselves to a 'merchant of death', but my brother was a different breed of Turian. Nasicus and Sabrina just . . . were meant to be together. It was amazing how the galaxy brought people together sometimes.

Sabrina stood a half a head below myself and Nasicus, and had shining blonde hair tied back in a simple tail. Her oval face was unblemished and just slightly browned from UV light exposure. Her dark blue eyes hinted at the deep, thoughtful mind behind them. Sabrina was wearing a bright blue dress as a sort of complement to Nasicus' look when she walked out to join us.

"Nothing in particular," Nasicus responded as Sabrina took a seat next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to come and stay with us, Caen," Sabrina smiled, genuinely, "I'm always amazed by both of your abilities, I must say."

"Pah," I spat half-heartedly, shaking my head, "Nas is the one with the fucking crazy penthouse. I'm just a ground-pounder, Sabrina."

"I told him," Nasicus added, as he looked towards Sabrina who was chuckling at my persistent modesty, "He won't accept it."

"He gets it from your father," Sabrina replied.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Nasicus raised his hands in triumph, feeling vindicated.

"Can we please, move on to something else?" I groaned.

"Yes, yes," Sabrina chuckled, "Our apologies."

"Consider it over and done with, Caen," My brother said as he got up out the seat, "How about some drinks, you two?"

"Any beer you have is fine with me," I nodded.

Sabrina quietly nodded as Nasicus hurried back off inside. "So how was the flight over from Palaven?"

"Not too bad," I answered, "We just finished a refresher course in urban combat scenarios, so I didn't have to go far to catch a ride. It was surprisingly quick this time around, guess everything's finally back up to speed after the whole small war with Saren and whatever the hell that thing was, here."

"Yeah, at last, it was a big clean up project, took a hell of a long time. We weren't too inconvenienced, but it was a little rough on Nas. He doesn't like commuting much at all anymore, and the whole rebuilding scheme made him pretty mad most nights."

"Fair enough," I said as Nasicus returned, with a beer for each of us.

My brother quickly handed out the goods and took his seat again, but not before he said the customary,

"Prost!"

We all took a small swig of our drinks and quickly turned our attention back to the conversation at hand.

"So, what is your plan for the future, Caen?" my brother inquired, more seriously this time around.

"Well, I'd like to ride out this Blackwatch job for a while and see where it goes. For my military career, it's probably my assignment ceiling. I don't think I'll ever get to a real high-ranking general officer position, even if I wanted to. I like being in the field more anyway, since it makes me feel useful in a firefight. I can't stand the idea of being stuck behind a screen telling other people to go and die."

"It's good to be cognizant of all that," Nasicus commented, "When I turned thirty and moved away from my active-duty posting in the Marines, I wasn't really thinking that far ahead. I mean I had liked tinkering and working on weapons, but it took a little bit for me to figure that was something I was willing to turn into my career. Luckily it paid off for me, in more ways than one."

"Yeah, lucky for you," Sabrina jabbed sarcastically, "Who knows what sort of high-strung maniac you would've ended up with otherwise."

"Yeah, I know," Nasicus responded in honest relief, but quickly laughed to cover it up, "It amazes me sometimes how it all comes together, you know?"

"I wouldn't really know," I added as I took a long swig from my beer. It had always irked me slightly that my brother had landed himself so well. Even during his days as a quartermaster for the 16th Marine Regiment, he was lauded for his efforts and was pretty well-known for pushing the boundaries of weapon modifications. I don't know why Nasicus acted like he didn't know that weapon design was what he wanted to do for his 'civilian' career.

On the other hand, I was terrified of life after my retirement from active-duty. I definitely wouldn't retire at thirty like Nasicus did. I would go until the Hierarchy forced me out.

"You'll find something, I'm sure of it," Sabrina said, trying to dissuade my fears, "There's always a lot of security firms hiring on the Citadel and Nas has his connections within Cipirtine, so if nothing else, I'm sure there's some way we could help you."

"And be here for the rest of my life?"

"That's not what I'm saying, Caen," Sabrina countered, "I'm saying that if nothing else pans out, we can help you. I have no doubts you'll make plenty of . . . connections because of Blackwatch once you get settled in. I know you told us to stop, but you're a really talented and resourceful person Caen, those traits don't go unnoticed. Four years until you're thirty is plenty of time."

She sounds like mom.

"Well that's very kind of you," I admitted willingly this time, "Maybe one day I can have a place as nice as this one."

"Nothing's really too far away," Sabrina smiled as Nas wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in closer.

We all turned towards the view, soaking it all in, and basked in the warm silence as the Citadel hummed along. I watched the people and machines in a colorful and organized flurry make this unique place in the universe keep on existing so that one day . . . maybe I'd call it home too.

-September 29, 2186 CE -

After finishing my conversation with Vellia, not much else happened as the light-years of space passed us by in the Heraklion.

We all passed the time lounging around in the bunk room playing card games, mainly a few games I had picked up from spending time on Earth, and while some were familiar, others I spent more time explaining them rather than playing.

But eventually, Captain Quinlus stopped by and notified us that we were in the Trebia system and would begin the descent into Menae shorty. All of us took that as our cue to pack and head down to the cargo bay to get all of our gear ready for transport. We didn't say anything as we carried out our tasks. There was a weight on all of our shoulders, and we knew it wouldn't be lifted for a while. Once we had all of our combat gear together, we stood around in the bay and waited for the ship to land.

"What do you think the situation is gonna be like at Oracle?" Lucus asked as he clutched his sniper rifle across his chest.

"Probably a lot of action. I imagine they sent back the prospects to their old units, so it's going to be all the real hands on deck now."

"We're probably going to sit on our asses for a few days," Pago said, joining the conversation circle with Vellia following close behind, "And then comes the reckoning."

"I can't even begin to imagine what a fight on Menae would be like . . ." Vellia added as the ship shunted to a halt.

I chuckled as I looked to Vellia, "You won't have to, the Reapers will probably take care of that for you."

"What a relief!" Vellia responded, and we all shared a laugh as the loading ramp of the Heraklion lowered to reveal the chalky grey-white surface of Menae and the artificial, reflective silvers of Oracle base which rose above the large black landing pad and the Heraklion.

Waiting for us outside was the all-too-familiar face of Major Cosvus Falcus, my immediate superior. He was the one who had kept us stationed on Taetrus due to the assignment posting SNAFU, and when his demeanor drooped upon seeing us battered, it was obvious he felt even more guilty about it. Even though I knew there wasn't much he could've done to get us transferred out before the attack, it was nice that he genuinely felt like he had wronged us. His brown face and yellow face tattoos stood out against his midnight black Blackwatch armor.

Now, we're home.

"Captain," Major Falcus said as we walked down the ramp to him, and we shared a quick handshake, "It's good to see you all in one piece. We expected the worst when we lost comms with Taetrus."

"It's going to take a lot more than that to kill us, sir," Vellia responded.

"That it is," Falcus said as he motioned for us to follow him inside Oracle base.

Compared to a lot of the stations on Menae, Oracle base was much larger and one of the most classified locations in Turian space.

And I'm going to take you inside.

Oracle is a double-ringed circular base, close to the northern pole of Menae. In size terms, Oracle ranked as the second-largest permanent installation on the moon, along with holding the largest active garrison. The entire building was covered in metallic silver shielding, as is most Turian military buildings, with the outer ring containing most of the living quarters, the main mess hall, and the majority of the team rooms. The inner ring was the more guarded and secretive area, with the briefing rooms, officers' quarters, intelligence and observation secure areas (much like the ones in the Spookhouse at the Had), the medical wing, as well as the most important area, the quartermaster's and supply rooms.

"We're not going in with the counter-attack force, but we're keeping busy." Falcus waved us through the security checkpoint, and we received a few friendly greetings from the door guards. Now in the inner ring, I could see why Falcus said that.

There were squads of Blackwatch troops coming and going from almost every room up and down the ring. No doubt some of them were going planet-side to help assist in the defensive planning.

"Where are you going to use us?" I asked as we sped up to a jog to keep up with Falcus.

"Well, I don't think we have any good reason to separate you all now, considering you fought your way out of Taetrus and lived to tell the tale. Right now, though, you all will be debriefed by our intel team. We need any information we can get our hands on regarding these bastards and how to fight them. At least Blackwatch can be prepared for the fight here, even if command is off trying to placate the masses right now."

Now that's what I like to hear.

"Where's Colonel Gracchus?" Lucus asked.

"He's in Cipirtine for an emergency session of the Primarch's war council. Fedorian declared the Hierarchy to be at war yesterday, after Taetrus officially went dark. The Colonel will be back fairly soon, if that's what you're wondering. He's as eager for a fight as you all are, trust me on that."

After a further minute or so of walking, Falcus led us into a secure room and with some intel officers joining us not long after, we all took our seats in the scrubbed white room to begin the tedious process of a debrief.

We spent almost four hours walking through everything that happened to us on Taetrus, from first contact at the Had to our extraction at Spaedar. The whole time, we were barely asked any questions. The intel officers were too busy writing down our every word and translating them into actionable intel as quickly as they could. They did seem quite dismayed at the bleak picture we were painting.

I hoped it was better than going in blind.

Once we were finished, the intel officers rushed back to their center to start spreading the word.

"I know you guys are probably worn out to death, and probably need some recovery time. As of right now, Captain, your team is on alert and will have no other duties for the time being. Whatever you need to do to prepare yourselves before the fight, I suggest you do it. You may not have another opportunity for a while," Falcus said, giving us all a wave as he headed back out into the main hallway of the inner ring.

"That's it?" Vellia asked skeptically, "There has to be a catch."

"Maybe not," Pago said, crossing his arms in his seat, "They don't have the time or manpower to fuck with us right now. Better to leave us alone. It's not like we're going anywhere anytime soon."

"We could go see Chaos, see what new stuff he's got in," Lucus proposed.

"I need to get a replacement helmet anyway," I said, rising to my feet as the rest of the team quickly followed suit, "Let's go see the madman."

Chaos was the nickname of one of the beloved maniacs of the Turian military. If my brother was a magician with weapon design, then Chaos was a Spirit in flesh and blood. No one called him by his real name, Galvius Sulla. Despite being only a sergeant, his word on Oracle base was regarded as highly as Colonel Gracchus, which considering the talent walking around, that was saying something.

Chaos had enough clout to get an entire quarter of the wing reserved as a space to do his business, mainly building, modifying, and testing every bit of kit we took out into the field. He was a relentless psychopath determined to improve every tiny detail he could in our gear. Chaos was the one that built the retrofit for Lucus' Armax Punisher. The area was large enough to have indoor firing ranges, but not big enough for explosive testing, which he did outside only after he got in trouble for detonating plastic explosives for armor testing. But no one could say he didn't get results.

The large doorway to Chaos' domain had a large electronic sign above it which read:
"CAUTION: LIVE WEAPONS ARE FIRED IN THIS AREA. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK. CHAOS TAKES NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR IDIOTS."

Once we walked through, the sounds of weapons discharging quickly filled the air. Over to our left, the firing ranges were full of Chaos' assistants test-firing weapons on ballistic dummies who were unfortunate enough to end up being acquisitioned by Chaos. To our right, was a large workbench area organized into a 'U' shape up against the right-side wall of the high-ceilinged room where three individuals were gathered around what looked like a Krysae anti-material rifle.

"I don't fucking care how many thermal clips you need to use to get the weapon calibrated," the scratchy, shrill voice of Chaos rang out, who was in the center of the three, "Go tell supply to quit complaining and give me what I need!"

Chaos stood at about average height for a Turian, and stood out, mainly for his pale white skin plating. His face was pretty well scarred and scratched from his many self-created brushes with death. It seemed as if there wasn't a single part of his head that was immune from his technological pursuits, as even his fringe was shorter than usual thanks to his experiments with expanding thermal clip capacity. Chaos' yellow eyes were attentive, but hyper-active as his mind processed through his seemingly endless to-do list. He also wore the trademark black armor of the Blackwatch, albeit with a massive red Turian skull painted on the chest plate.

"Roger that," one of them replied as he bumped his way through us.

"I'll start running the test firing," the other said as he hefted the Krysae up with both hands and jogged over to the firing range.

As his assistants left, Chaos noticed us coming in and immediately cheered up.

"Well, well, well," Chaos clapped, "Looks like the badass motherfuckers are finally back from gettin' some. How was business?"

"Booming," I replied with a chuckle, "And more's on the way. Probably going to be danger close in the near future."

"Huh," Chaos remarked as he looked us over, "You guys look like shit."

"Thanks genius," Lucus snarked, "Tell us something we don't know."

"Really, Lucus? I'm pretty sure that's the reason I got this job. Try again."

"I assume you got the word about the Reapers?" I asked, trying to end a conflict of so-called 'wits' before it even started.

"Affirmative," Chaos responded with a nod, crossing his arms, "It's why I have everyone here working at top speed right now. Our timeline just got shortened massively. Of course we have the planned counter-attack in a couple of days, but who knows, we may be burning our asses in the fire sooner than that if things go really bad."

"You got anything new for us?"

If Chaos could smile, I imagine this would be a moment when he'd be grinning like hell.

"Maybe. Let me show you."

We all walked over to Chaos' desk, which was covered in all sorts of random tech and mechanical bits, but Chaos directed our intention to several pairs of what looked to be like shoulder mounted thruster packs.

"Are those some of Armiger's thruster packs?" Pago seemed to know what we were all thinking at that moment.

" . . .Kind of," Chaos coyly responded as several loud explosions went off in the room some ways behind us, starling everyone slightly. But, Chaos seemed pleased with whatever the explosive results were and turned his attention back to the thrusters, "They're modified of course. Mostly the Armiger guys use these for horizontal movement, quick dodges and accelerating into an attack. That sort of thing. These are a bit different. I've increased the fuel flow rate into the thrusters and strengthened them overall as a result because the heat is pretty immense. Not only can you move horizontally like Armiger can, this can propel you vertically, at least a few meters. Unfortunately, I can't do much more with it because the fuel packs for these are pretty small and putting even more weight on doesn't make much sense."

"Fucking brilliant," Lucus commented, in awe of the equipment.

Chaos then turned to me for a moment, and then seemed perplexed by my face.

"What happened to your nose? I don't think it was gashed like that before."

"No, an explosion knocked me off balance and I shattered the visor on my helmet on a rock. Sliced me pretty good."

Chaos clicked his mandibles a few times as he thought about something, muttering to himself as he looked through a few storage lockers under his desks.

"Hold this," he said to Vellia, handing her what looked like a heavily modified receiver for a Phaeston.

Vellia grabbed it quickly as Chaos threw a few other things out, sending them bouncing and clattering onto the floor.

"Here it is, the motherfucker," Chaos grunted as he pulled out what looked to be a normal Turian combat helmet, but there were a few significant changes to the overall design.

"This is a prototype I worked on a while back for Armax, but they didn't adopt it." He placed the helmet on a specialized rack so it could sit in a position like it would on one of our heads.

"I reduced the size of the viewing slit, so it doesn't have that bit where it goes down from your eyes to your mouth," he said pointing to a dark, metallic silver piece of metal that seemed a bit out of place, but was securely attached to the helmet, "That piece is reinforced Titanium. Costs a lot to mass produce that bit, so makes sense why they didn't want to do it."

"But there's some internal stuff you might like, so try it on," Chaos said, picking the helmet up and handing it over.

"You sure this thing's not gonna take my head off?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yes, quit being such a damn baby."

I placed the helmet on and found that I was in total darkness.

Oh great, I'm blind again.

"I can't see shit, Chaos."

"Just hold on, it has to boot up first."

Blue lights quickly flashed in front of me as the world around me came back into view. It almost felt like I wasn't wearing a helmet at all.

"How's it looking?"

"Pretty nice actually," I said reaching up to the helmet and adjusting it slightly, "I have no field-of-view hindrance at all."

"Well you can thank a couple of pieces for that. First, I actually moved the front of the helmet back so it's a bit closer to your eyes, that way your eyes don't freak out as much that you're looking through a screen."

"Why was it dark at first?"

"That's the second bit. Technically you're not only looking through a view slit right now."

"What?"

"You're looking through a combined image, the reason it's not delayed is because the base image is what you see out of the viewport, there's actually a camera embedded in the helmet right below the view slit, which is protected by the Titanium plate I added. So everything you see after about fifteen to twenty degrees down is the camera coming in. I ran some tests with it and it works fine with every optic system we've got."

"That's a hell of an upgrade."

"Tell that to Armax," Chaos snarked, "There's one last bit I need to turn on."

"What's that?"

"Well since you guys have been complaining we haven't done internal night-vision and HUD helmet upgrades yet; this is where they've been laying around."

With another series of flashes there were now all sorts of data readings, for my weapons, personal vitals and shields, readouts on the environment, and tracking systems which were highlighting all the people moving in the room.

"You can toggle night-vision and thermals from your omni-tool, the helmet automatically links with the user once it's initialized."

I took a moment to flip through the settings and found myself a bit blinded from the light all around, but impressed all the same.

"You think you can upgrade all of our helmets like this one, within a week?" I asked, removing the helmet and returning to my primeval vision.

"Maybe. I can for sure make two more in a few days. I'd need another one of those cameras to make a third."

"Is there a place where one could . . . 'requisition' one of those cameras?" Lucus asked as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Chaos laughed, "Maybe, but that's only speculative, of course."

"Just let me know."

"Sure, and Lucus, why don't you come try this new weapon I've been working on."

"You had me at 'try this new weapon'."

We all laughed as we headed over to Chaos' firing range to find the individual tasked with the Krysae rifle, who laid the weapon down on the firing bay table and turned to us.

"It passed the first run with flying colors, sir."

"Yeah, I heard," Chaos clapped with joy as he pointed to the rifle, "Give it a go, Lucus."

"What's different about this?" Lucus asked, looking over the weapon in his arms, "It looks almost exactly the same as a regular Krysae, just . . . bigger."

"Precisely," Chaos responded with a firm point of his finger, "This thing is really upgraded. It doesn't shoot the regular AP rounds any more."

"Well, what does it shoot then?"

"Proximity fused, armor-piercing projectiles."

"How big's the bang?"

"You heard it earlier."

"Spirits," Lucus muttered as he shouldered the rifle, aiming it downrange at an already horribly maimed Turian-shaped dummy.

"It has a two-stage trigger," Chaos continued, "The first stage focuses the internal optic from two to ten times magnification. The second stage is pretty light so be ready."

A second later, the Krysae rocked up vertically in his hands as the invisible projectile impacted almost immediately into the target dummy, sending the dummy and the next nearest one to it flying back towards the end of the firing range.

"I tell you what, damn, that's history-making!"

Chaos cackled at Lucus' answer. He couldn't be happier at that level of compliment, "Imagine when you put some of those poor Reaper bastards on the end of that sort of hurt."

"I'd be glad to give it a field test, just for you, Chaos," Lucus pleaded, giving his best pitiful expression he could muster.

"Go ahead, it's pending official adoption right now."

"This is why I love this job," Lucus hopped with joy as he gave Chaos a slap on the back, "You did it again Chaos."

"Hmmph," the tech master grunted as he looked over all of us, "Who knows if it will be enough."

AN/: And with that, the countdown to chaos on Menae ticks ever onward. I made some big leaps with this chapter character-wise. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, in the end. Please feel free to leave your reviews and let me know what you think, as always.

Until next time,

Esquire 6.