I am back, and with my longest chapter so far! I must thank you for all your wonderful reviews. They made my day. Please, keep them coming! I always love to hear from my readers! The consensus among the readers was suicide mission now, description of Adas later, and so that is what I have done. For those of you who wanted Adas, fear not! It's coming in our next, and last chapter of Technophiles. After that, a sequel will be coming out, and I have some pretty big plans for it. I'm sure most of you will like and approve of it, but if you want any clarifications or further information, feel free to ask me!

As for this chapter itself, I do know that many people aren't particularly fond of Shepard and want to see more Mechanicus. Unfortunately, due to the subject nature of the chapter, Shepard does play a large part. You can't really just oust him from the suicide mission. However, fear not, for Cawl and Primus are here, and will feature heavily. For the first time, they drop their "cheerful mad scientist and long-suffering subordinate" routine, and we get to see exactly how deadly they are. In addition, we also get to see what happened to Kai Leng and Cerberus, and the well-deserved fate of several characters.

For those who like Primus, his full talents come out here. Let me remind all of you that he is an alpha-grade psyker... Now, on to the reviews:

LezGo35: A sequel will be coming shortly! We will see how the suicide mission ended here, and Harbinger does feature.

Colossus Bridger: Yep, Trazyn is just that awesome. There will be Quarian skitarii, which are very cybernetically-enhanced Quarians, but I don't think we'll see anything further. Maybe some Quarian Thallaxii if I'm feeling generous or people really want to see them...

eldritch-abomination001: Hey, Alpha Primus is here! He's a big part of this chapter, and while we don't see the "Space Marine awkwardly interacting with normal people" part, we get to see him do some pretty cool stuff! We will have Space Marines interacting with normal people in the sequel, though, so you should like that. We will also see 047 and Zore'Reer next chapter. I'm really exited to write it!

ProfessorZooms: Thank you. I know lots of people don't want to see Shepard, but he/she's just such a big part of Mass Effect that it's almost impossible not to include. Either way, I do like writing Shepard and the "new Normandy" characters in this AU. However, I can take your suggestion and include less Shepard in the sequel.

GDSony: I always prefer honesty. If you like the story, tell me. If you don't, tell me. Honesty fixes flaws. I thank you for your review, and might try to cut down on Shepard in the sequel. Also, I must mention that what I am trying to do throughout this story is tell it from different perspectives to better illustrate what is going on as a whole. Shepard is not doing his normal "give a speech and convince everyone to join him", but rather he is being sucked into the Dawn War and somewhat under the thumb of the Mechanicus. It's different, but I can understand people just not wanted to see Shepard as much.

kukuhimanpr: That is definitely true, for both Trazyn and the other reviews. Like I said before, what I'm trying to do is tell the story from different perspectives to better illustrate it as a whole. We do see the perspective of the Mechanicus, just as we see the perspective of the Quarians, Shepard, the Council, and several others.

themadnimrod: Thank you! Trazyn is awesome, and suicide mission is here! Also, I should mention that for some reason the website deletes the first portion of your name if I leave in the periods. Why, I'm not sure. Sorry about that, though. I've tried to fix it.

Everpeach: We are going to get a whole crusade. Don't worry: I can make it work. I have plans for what forces are showing up, and we will be seeing two First Founding Marine chapters. Which ones in particular remain to be decided. It's a very hard choice.

Doc43Souls: Thank you very much! I must look further into the Sons of Sanguinius. The suicide mission is here, and the sequel will be awesome.

Dezagstin: The Mechanicus will be there, and I can feature them heavily. Other Imperial forces will show, but I'm sure you'll like them. There will not be Chaos in the sense most people think of it, the gods will not be involved, there will be no corruption, and I most definitely will not be turning this into a "in the grim darkness of the future" fic. That being said, I have to put this bluntly: the Imperium would curb stomp the Reapers, so I will be making this fight more fair for your reading pleasure. I have a feeling that you will actually like what I have planned in this regard, especially for the more Mechanicus-oriented, which you seem to be.

blyatman123: Thank you! Adas will be next chapter, and there will be a sequel!

local doc: Thank you for compliments and wonderful review. I will be writing a sequel, and I'm sure many people, yourself included, will love it.

Sazq: There will be a sequel, and Adas will be coming next chapter!

Onix121: A little. I tried to give him a scene with him stealing stuff at the end of each chapter. However, due to word count and several other reasons, he won't be here for this chapter.

Enclave Medic Prinz: I can cut down on Shepard. That is certainly do-able.

valhalan guardsman: Yeah. Trazy is full of shenanigans.

Ikasuki: Thank you! I'm sure you could follow a plan if you tried. All you need is some time and practice, and a love for writing.

BonesofSmite: Thank you. Everything is proceeding as you have foreseen. Suicide mission here, Adas next, and sequel coming later. Stay tuned!

powerhendler: Thank you for reading! Sequel is coming after next chapter.

Imhappy0126: Thank you! Sequel is coming next, and the full power of the Imperium will be featuring.

Ghostly: Lots of Batarians. The Salarians are smart enough not to interfere. I haven't really thought about the Shadow Broker. As for Cerberus, we see what happens to them in this chapter, which should answer your question.

Guest: Thank you.

Anatheras: Thank you! Suicide mission here, Adas next, and sequel after! The Reapers delayed their invasion because of how easily the Mechanicus beat them on Rannoch, but they will be coming very soon, which will propel us into the sequel.

Chronus1326: Thank you!

Martiflex1991: Thank you very much!

Qinlongfei: Thank you! I liked both chapters. I realize that the Citadel is actually not that bad of a government, but that doesn't really matter when a Tech-Priest pulls up in an ark mechanicus and threatens to blow you to little tiny pieces if you don't sign his treaty. All things considered, I hope I've done a little to subvert your expectations on Mass Effect fics.

MemerDreamer: Trazyn's a great guy. He is indeed the hero we needed all along.

Brother Bov: A sequel will be coming. I will most definitely not be giving a "in the grim-darkness of the far future" fic. You can sleep easy.

Chillingbear: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it, and I'm glad you liked my portrayal of the Tech-Priests!

Guest: A sequel will be coming!

kingcat: Thank you! There will be more Imperial forces coming, and we will see Zore'Reer next chapter.

oOo

Suicide Mission

"Death before surrender. But today is not our day to die." -Darth Marr, Star Wars: The Old Republic

"You are Astartes indeed, and that will never alter. But you are Death Guard no longer. You are a ghost, a figure that stands between light and dark, trapped amid the grey. And I have need of such a man." -Malcador the Sigillite to Battle-Captain Garro, Garro: Oath of Moment

"Listen, my team is a group of the most deadly individuals in the universe. They are the best of the best, and could and did bring an entire species low. These few were chosen out of the trillions, if not quadrillions, of individuals in the galaxy. They can do almost anything.

They wouldn't last more than five seconds against Alpha Primus." -Commander John Shepard on Alpha Primus

oOo

Approximately One Month After the Dawn War

The Normandy waited on the edge of the Omega 4 Relay. It simply sat, still in space, its sleek curves still and element zero engines off. It was silent; waiting. It did not float through the void as it normally did, but instead was completely still. Very few systems could detect it in this state: the Normandy was a stealth ship, after all, and this was what it was built to do. Sensor systems that might detect the slightest hints of readout from movement or the most miniscule of output from the engines were now useless. The Normandy was silent.

There were three ways one could actually find this ship. The first was by getting close enough to pick it out from the void by naked eye (which would spell a death sentence for anyone that did so: the Normandy would know anyone approaching far sooner than could be detected by eyes alone). The second was if one possessed Mechanicus technology. The strange newcomers to this galaxy did things to machines that could almost be considered divine. They were the absolute masters of any form of technology: cybernetics, sensors, weapons, engines, vehicles, armor, shielding, you name it, the Mechanicus could provide it. It made one wonder if their strange Machine God was actually real, and blessing its servants with knowledge no one else could comprehend.

The third way to find the ship was if one fought for the Reapers. Reaper technology far outclassed anything humanity or the Citadel races could provide. The Collectors had killed the first Normandy. Now, the second iteration of the famous starship was out for revenge.

Aboard the Normandy itself, in deep contrast to its outward appearance, everything was in movement. Holographic consoles rang out with messages, informing their controllers that all systems were green and ready to go. Crates were dragged across the floor with terrible screeching noises and secured, making certain that when the ship went into combat, nothing would tumble through the interior and potentially damage systems or harm members of the crew.

The crew itself bustled with activity. Footsteps hurriedly double-timed through hallways. Omni-tools were checked, then double-checked. Ammunition of all sorts, cryo, incendiary, disruption, was stacked carefully or meticulously loaded into weapons. Mass accelerator weapons were unfurled, checked, and cleaned. Their ammunition blocks were checked, making sure everything was well. Propulsion systems were next, and when everything there was clear, fresh heat sinks were inserted into the weapons.

Engineers went over their omni-tools in greater detail, making certain any and all programs they might need were ready and operating in perfect order. Biotic specialists relaxed, doing their breathing exercises, and limbering up, ready to use their strange powers at the flick of a wrist.

In the armory, Garrus calibrated his sniper rifle, optimizing it to perfection. It was already near-perfect, but a sniper was a sniper, and they all went over their weapons in a way that even the most ardent of gun enthusiasts would find excruciating. Besides, it was Garrus's pre-mission ritual. It happened before every mission, and so far, it had worked every time but one. At least he was still alive.

Next to him, Shepard went over his hellgun, praying to the weapon's machine spirit and blessing it in sacred oil. It was strange; even more bizarre than any weapon ritual any member of the Normandy's crew had ever seen, and that was saying a lot. It was strange even to Shepard. However, this strange ritual had been part of the agreement he had made with Archmagos Cawl upon receiving the hellgun. It was what the Tech-Priests of the Mechanicus did to all their technology, and ordered him to do to this weapon. If this ritual was what made the weapon work, or work better, or even if it was just because this was a meaningless ritual part of the Mechanicus's odd religion, Shepard would not hesitate to complete it. He didn't know why he did it, he did not know what it did, but Cawl had ordered it, and so Shepard would do it.

Everyone was wearing their armor (or, at least everyone who wore armor in the first place). Garrus had his old suit, still scarred and beaten from his time on Omega. Shepard wore his N7 armor, the massive damage it had taken in the Dawn War repaired by Jacob. The Spectre did not wear his left gauntlet and bracer; instead, his left arm beneath his elbow ended in a heavy metallic Mechanicus prosthetic. He flexed the cybernetic several times, causing the plasma weapon hidden within to pop up with a soft purr of coils heating to life. Shepard smiled softly to himself. This was certainly a great gift: third only to his life and bodily enhancements. Despite his original misgivings, Archmagos Cawl performed his work well.

As Doctor Chakwas said on that fateful day, speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

"Commander, Serendipity is transitioning in-system," came the helpful voice of Joker over the Normandy's PA system. Shepard looked up from his work and activated his omni-tool.

"Be right there, Joker. Tell Cawl to send a shuttle to the hangar," he ordered.

"Copy that, Commander," replied Joker. Shepard daubed blessed oil around the Imperial double-headed eagle (called an Aquilia) emblazoned on the side of the hellgun. He interlocked his knuckles, making the Mechanicus's Sign of the Cogwheel over the weapon and muttering the simple prayer he'd been instructed to say. Zaeed, Garrus, and Jacob looked over at him, amused. Shepard ignored it. Praying to a rifle was odd, but over time, he'd gotten used to it. It soothed his nerves before battle, and he liked to think it made the weapon just that much better. Perhaps, perhaps not. He didn't know, but it certainly couldn't hurt.

Finished with the Mechanicus-ordained ritual, Shepard slotted his hellgun next to the heavy powerpack mounted on his back and made his way to the hangar.

Outside, in the dark void of space, seen only by Joker, the mighty ark mechanicus Serendipity transitioned into the system just beyond the Omega 4 Relay. The Normandy's pilot did not look at the massive portal which the Serendipity came through, and tried his best to ignore the terrible crawling sensation that moved over his skin like a colony of ants. Joker shuddered. Despite all its engenuity, plus the fact they did not have to use the mass relays, he hated the Mechanicus's form of transportation. There was just something wrong about it. Reality should remain reality.

From beneath the huge broadside lances on the Serendipity's starboard side came a shuttle. It floated out of one of the ark mechanicus's many hangars, heavy sliding doors clanking closed behind it. The hangar was nearly invisible against the Serendipity's bulk. Joker shuddered again. What did the Mechanicus fight that required ships that big? The thought was terrifying. At least their power would be on the side of the Normandy, fighting against the Collectors.

As Joker had instructed, the shuttle came about neatly and began its docking sequence with the Normandy. It would be landing inside the hangar proper; a tight fit, but the Tech-Priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus were some of the finest mathematicians in the known universe. If they thought it would fit, then it would most likely fit.

In the hangar itself, Shepard waited, hellgun strapped on his back. Miranda stood next to him, still clad in her tight-fitting Cerberus jumpsuit. Shepard had tried to convince her to wear armor, to no avail. He sighed to himself. A rather dumb decision, in his personal opinion, but Miranda could take care of herself. Come to think of it, all of the biotics in his crew, regardless of species or gender, distained armor and wore rather skimpy outfits. Biotics were just like that, apparently. They knew their powers could protect them, and preferred clothing they could maneuver in. Still, several more centimeters of ceramic/plastoid alloy couldn't hurt.

Farther back in the hangar, Tali fiddled with her combat drone, shotgun resting by her side. Shepard was certain her technological expertise would come in handy during this mission - unless the Mechanicus sent a Tech-Priest. In that case, anyone else's technological skills were really a moot point. Grunt paced nearby, a plethora of weapons hanging off his massive form. He muttered to himself, eager for blood and ready to destroy the Collectors.

The shuttle swooped in low as the Normandy's hangar doors opened wide with the barest of whispers. It turned in place and began slowly, ever so slowly, began its landing sequence. Whoever was piloting was careful that the top of the shuttle did not scrape the ceiling of the hangar, a fact that Shepard was rather grateful for. It wouldn't be good to start off this mission with having to repair scrapes off the top of the hangar.

Wincing as the shuttle's backwash swept over him, Shepard and Miranda advanced towards the shuttle. Grunt looked over with a sneer. Out of all the races in this galaxy, the Mechanicus like the Batarians, Krogan, and Asari the least. In that order.

"Grunt, why don't you go help Jacob check over the weapons," suggested Shepard. Grunt turned towards him with a low growl, annoyed that he could not fight these arrogant newcomers. They disparaged the Krogan? Fine. Let them fight the Krogan. That would change their tune quickly. However, his Battlemaster did not want him to do so. Grunt turned and went to the armory. The Mechanicus would be allies once more.

With a swirling hiss of released gas, the shuttle's ramp came down. Shepard and Miranda advanced, squinting to see who might come out of the darkness of the shuttle. They were promised reinforcements by the Mechanicus, but Shepard had no idea what Cawl might have sent them.

A familiar clicking, skittering noise sounded on the metal of the ramp, followed by the heavy thud of power armored boots. Shepard and Miranda stepped back from the ramp to make way for Archmagos Cawl in person.

The Martian Tech-Priest wore all his weapons, each one attached to his person by strange technologies. His huge hive of mechadendrites swayed as he walked, rippling the deep crimson robe he wore above them. In his hands was his huge axe, blade shaped like a toothed cogwheel. Cawl was followed by his strange, gray-armored bodyguard. Red lenses glared down at Shepard and Miranda, as if daring the pair to strike out against his (or maybe its. Or hers. Who knew?) master. A huge blocky weapon was clutched in the figure's hands. It did not look like a las weapon, or anything the skitarii used. It was heavy and blocky, with a large magazine sticking out from beneath the body. Emblazoned on the side was the Imperial Aquila instead of the Mechanicus Cogwheel.

"Ah! Commander Shepard! Officer Lawson!" greeted Cawl cheerfully. He shifted his axe from his right hand to his left and shook both of Lawson and Shepard's hands. Miranda visibly suppressed a wince at Cawl's cold augementic grip. The huge gray figure did nothing besides stare. In the back of the hangar, Tali looked up apprehensively from her perch, nervous of both the suicide mission and the strange events the arrival of Cawl usually brought. She put her head down and continued to work on her combat drone as the bodyguard's head turned to look her way.

"A pleasure to see you again, Archmagos," replied Shepard. He couldn't help but smile. Cawl, for all his strangeness and eccentricity, was always extremely cheerful and optimistic. It didn't hurt that he owed his life to the Tech-Priest.

"A pleasure to be here," replied Cawl magnanimously. They stood there for a very brief, slightly awkward moment before Shepard gestured towards the interior of the hangar.

"Well, uh, come in, I guess," he muttered for want of anything else to say. Cawl and his bodyguard followed Shepard and Lawson deeper into the Normandy.

"Do you have the IFF?" began Cawl, turning his masked face down at Shepard. The Commander rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yes," he replied. The crew of the Normandy had recently gone to the wreck of a Reaper, killed by some super-weapon in a cycle long ago. They had been sent there by the Illusive Man to recover a device that would mark the Normandy as an ally to the Reapers, and thus (hopefully) be able to make the ship able to pass freely through the Omega 4 Relay. The IFF had been installed and incorporated into the Normandy's systems just before the ship jumped to this location to meet with their promised Mechanicus allies. "It's installed and everything is ready to go," reported Shepard. Cawl nodded thoughtfully.

"Good. Very good," he mused. There was another slightly awkward pause before Shepard spoke up again.

"Well, it was good of you to come, Archmagos." Unlike a certain Cerberus leader. At least Cawl had the courtesy to show up and wish them luck on the mission. Shepard gave him a respectful nod. "Now, where are the reinforcements?" he asked. "We should get them aboard and get going as soon as possible." Cawl tilted his head.

"You have the reinforcements," he said bluntly.

"Well, yes. I know that," replied Shepard. He'd better have the reinforcements. He had been promised reinforcements, and the Mechanicus had better deliver. Shepard simply wasn't sure exactly what he was getting: a squad or two of skitarii, maybe some sort of robot. It remained to be seen. He only hoped Cawl would give him something good; something he would be able to complete this mission with. "So… where are the reinforcements?" he asked.

Shepard didn't want to waste anymore time. Simply send over another shuttle with his promised soldiers, and they would be on their way. Cawl looked at him strangely.

"You have them," he repeated. He gestured to himself and the large bodyguard. "We are the reinforcements." Shepard opened his mouth spasmodically. Miranda stepped up, looking like she wanted to say something. Her eyes met the helmet of the large bodyguard, and, strangely, she stepped back in acceptance. Shepard, on the other hand, stuttered in exasperation.

"You are the reinforcements?" he asked in the strangely lighthearted tone of someone who had been told a fact they couldn't believe. "You two? Just you two?" He closed his mouth with an audible clump and visible effort. It wouldn't do to insult Cawl by insinuating that he couldn't take care of himself. However, he was expecting a lot more than two people. This was a suicide mission. His crew was the best of the best, and even they weren't expected to survive. Two people, however powerful they might be, weren't going to add much.

Maybe. In fact, the more he looked at the two, the more he thought this actually might not be a bad thing. The Archmagos shot Shepard a slightly sour look.

"We are rather good at what we do, you know," he drawled. In fact, very good. The countless expeditions Cawl had led over the last 10,000 years were almost all more dangerous than this. The Archmagos was certain he would come out of this mission both alive and on top. "Besides, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't certain I would live through the experience, would I not?" sniffed Cawl. "Unlike your Illusive Benefactor." Shepard nodded, accepting the logic. Cawl smiled to himself. He liked Cerberus. They were, after all, the only competent and useful human supremacist group in this galaxy. All in all, a good thing. Cawl knew that Shepard didn't like the group.

But Shepard would come around eventually. Such things didn't matter. Only that Shepard accepted himself and Primus on the mission.

"All right then," said Shepard resignedly. "Take a… seat. I guess." Belatedly, the Commander realized Tech-Priests didn't really sit. He also had no idea if Cawl's gray-armored bodyguard even had the capacity to sit. "Go ahead and stay anywhere."

"Thank you, Commander," replied Cawl graciously. He trundled into a corner in the hangar, followed closely by Alpha Primus. Shepard sighed and turned to Miranda.

"Alright then. Let's get this party started."

oOo

The Normandy streaked through the Omega 4 Relay, engines glowing proudly, only to reach a scene of utter devastation. The wreckage of millions of years lay strewn throughout space. Nothing was rusted: the frigid void of space preserved all. Ships, of thousands of classes and models, lay blasted and dead in this graveyard of empires. Shepard recognized almost none of them. Beyond the wreckage was a huge black hole: the center of the galaxy itself. This place was death; the ruination of hundreds of thousands of once-proud vessels and millions of lives. No wonder no one made it through the Omega 4 Relay.

Normandy dipped and juked, flitting through the wreckage. With Joker at the helm, combined with the power of the Reaper IFF, this was the first ship in thousands, if not millions, of years that might make it through safely.

However, this place, this dark and terrible area beyond the edge of death and into the heart of the galaxy, had other ideas. It was defended by many things; its reputation first and foremost. There was also the huge amount of debris around the entrance to the system, almost guaranteed to smash any ship that dared enter the area. Indeed, the Normandy itself was almost claimed this way, and only saved by Joker's lightning reflexes.

Then there were the actual defenses of the Collector Base itself. Hypothetically, a good enough pilot, as demonstrated by Joker, could avoid all the wreckage strewn about this place. The secrets of the Omega 4 Relay and the base here must be kept, and so the system was patrolled by a series of powerful drones. A group of these drones, seeing the flowing form of the Normandy zip through the wreckage of a dozen starships, gave chase. Crimson particle beams blasted forward, whizzing by the Normandy.

Within the ship's cockpit, Joker gritted his teeth. Shepard and Miranda, standing behind him, looked for something to grab on to.

"Hang on!" he cried, spinning the Normandy into a steep dive, avoiding the sharp flashes of passing beams. Shepard and Miranda, unable to find something suitable to grab on to, went tumbling across the cockpit in a messy heap.

oOo

Within the hangar, Cawl calmly turned to Alpha Primus. His internal sensors had already detected the angle the Normandy was about to turn. Joker's warning over the PA system several seconds later was simply a bonus.

"Lock," he announced to Primus. The Marine said nothing in response. His heavy boots made a slight hissing thud, magnetically sealing themselves to the deck. Cawl's many legs dug in, making certain the Archmagos kept his balance. The Normandy went into its dive.

oOo

Joker gritted his teeth as Miranda and Shepard hung on desperately behind him. He dove and dodged, flitting through the incoming fire with the subtle grace of a hummingbird. Still, the Oculus drones pursued. Upgraded by their dark masters' fearful code, they would not be dissuaded from catching their prey.

After one particular dodging flip, a drone scored a lucky hit with its weapon, blasting a small chunk away from the Normandy's side and actually entering the ship itself, determined to slaughter anyone that dared to invade its realm.

"We have a drone in the hangar!" called Joker over the PA.

oOo

Cawl and Primus were nearly upside-down. The two looked like a pair of humongous, oddly-shaped bats perched on the slick floor of the Normandy's hangar. Primus still clutched his boltgun, perfectly at ease with the up becoming down and down becoming up. Worse things had happened. Cawl himself was largely in the same position. Several of his mechadendrites smoothed down his red robe, holding it in place so it did not fall upside his head. His Omnissian power axe was held casually in his hand, resting on the ground. Well, ceiling, now. It would become the ground in several seconds, then probably revert back to ceiling.

"All I'm saying, Master, is that I don't understand why you gave Shepard Mortarion's genes," continued Primus casually, as if he were back aboard the Archmagos's lab on the Serendipity instead of a rapidly maneuvering starship headed for a suicide mission. Cawl shrugged in reply. The gesture was rather lost upside-down.

"Well, like I said before, Mortarion is one of the most stable and resilient of gene lines," he replied. Primus stared at the Tech-Priest.

"He's a traitor!" Cawl looked back at Primus pointedly.

"Correct. However, that does not mean his sons will be traitors. Garro, the loyalists on Istvaan 3, yourself technically…" Cawl shrugged. "Genes do not make decisions. Each mind belongs to itself, and has the ability to choose for itself. That is an important lesson. Remember it well, Primus," advised the Archmagos.

"I suppose so, Master," sighed the Marine. "At least Shepard has a genetic tendency for resilience instead of a genetic tendency for, I don't know… drinking blood or turning your eyeballs to soup for jaywalking." Their conversation was interrupted by a blast that rocked the ship. A rent was torn in the side of the cargo bay, and a fearsome-looking cyclopian drone entered the Normandy.

"We have a drone in the hangar!" called Joker over the PA. Cawl looked over at the nearest speaker with a sigh. Of course there was a drone in the hangar. The pilot didn't need to get so panicky about it. He was supposed to be one of this galaxy's best pilots, was he not? He was supposed to be calm in all crises. Oh, well. That was human emotion for you. Sometimes it couldn't be helped.

The Normandy righted itself again and Cawl began to walk across the once more rightside-up hangar towards the rent in the wall.

"We have the drone under control," sighed the Tech-Priest. Mounted above his shoulders, Cawl's Solar Atomiser swiveled, facing the Oculus drone. Before the Reaper craft could even get off a shot, Cawl fired. Using a complex focusing array of the Archmagos's personal design, the Atomiser concentrated thermal energy and melta-waves into a short-ranged but searing hot beam of unstoppable direct energy. With a flash as bright as its stellar namesake, the Solar Atomiser disintegrated the Oculus in one shot.

Dragging a metal crate over to the rent in the ship, Cawl sliced off its top with a single blow from his power axe. Being exposed to the void of space couldn't really hurt the Tech-Priest or Alpha Primus. However, it was admittedly rather annoying.

Putting the crate over the hole, Cawl swiftly and carefully welded it into place with a plasma torch mounted on one of his mechadendrites. It ought to hold, at least until more thorough repairs could be made.

"Everything is under control here," said Cawl over the comms system to the cockpit.

oOo

The Normandy eventually made it through safely. It tangled with the Oculus drones, flipping forward and twisting into position to destroy each of them in turn. Such a thing was no easy feat; the wreckage was numerous, and much harder for the larger Normandy to dodge than the smaller drones. However, it pulled through.

The final, and last, defense the Collector Base possessed was its deadliest. From a docking bay on the base itself, a huge, ungainly and ugly starship was released and headed for the Normandy, cutting through the debris as if they were nothing. From his pilot's seat at the Normandy's nose, Joker looked at the incoming contact grimly.

"We have an old friend coming, Commander." Shepard frowned. This ship was an old friend indeed. This was the same vessel that destroyed the first Normandy. Joker growled. It was time for revenge.

Of course, there was a second possibility: the suicide mission could end early. Shepard tried not to think of that possibility.

In the end, Joker, and the Normandy's main guns, systematically calibrated by Garrus, came through. The Collector vessel was destroyed in a wash of bright light as the Normandy flew triumphantly through it. However, the debris, combined with damage taken earlier, forced the ship into an impromptu crash landing on the surface of the base itself.

Everyone was still alive. So far, so good.

oOo

Commander Shepard descended into the Normandy's CIC. He was met by the stares of every member of his ground crew, plus the interested mechanical eyes of Belisarius Cawl and the glowing red helmet lenses of his bodyguard. Hilariously, both seemed to be stooping slightly, unaccustomed to a starship built just for humans (or, at least species from six to seven feet in height). The room seemed crowded with everyone crammed inside; crowded, but not uncomfortable. There were a few wary stares at Cawl and his bodyguard, and some murmurings about what was to come, but all fell silent and looked over to Shepard as he walked in.

"The Normandy has been damaged," he began. "Joker and the rest of the crew here are working hard on repairing it. However, that's not important right now. What we need is a plan to destroy this station. That is, after all, our mission." Shepard looked around at everyone. He smiled as he saw all their faces. All of these souls had remained loyal, had volunteered to come and destroy an enemy no one else would. They were individuals with all sorts of backgrounds, people of every species (now including one twelve foot Tech-Priest and his mute nine foot bodyguard). These were the only people brave enough to stop the Collectors.

Miranda stepped forward and brought up a holographic diagram of the station. It flickered to life in orange-yellow light, showing the Collector Base in all its horrid vileness. It looked like some sort of overgrown and demented beehive. Shepard frowned.

"We should be able to overload their critical systems if you get to the main control center here," said Miranda, reaching forward to point out a single part of the base. The crew nodded along somberly. Cawl and his bodyguard simply stared curiously.

"That means going through the heart of this station. Right past this massive energy signature," pointed out Jacob. Shepard peered forward.

"That's the central energy chamber," he replied. "If there are any colonists still alive after all this time, they'd be in there." No one said anything. The colonists kidnapped by the Collectors seemingly so long ago were never intended to live. There were no illusions harbored: the colonists were probably already dead from the beginning. The Dawn War, and the resulting delay of this mission to stop the Collectors simply put a final nail in their coffin. Nothing could be done.

"Looks like there are two main routes," offered Jacob. The armorer looked over to Shepard. "Might be a good idea to split up to keep the Collectors off balance, then regroup in the central chamber." Jack snorted derisively.

"Ever watch a horror movie before, wise guy?" The biotic crossed her arms. "If we split up, we're easier to pick off." She looked around the group, seeking backup for her argument. "Plus, we lose half our firepower either way." Shepard frowned, considered. Jacob's suggestion had merit. Splitting up would divide Collector forces and keep them off-balance. It would be much harder for them to target two groups. However, Jack's perspective was equally profound. If they split up, they halved their firepower. If one group was caught, it would be much harder for them to get through. The other group might not be able to support them.

Plus, he'd watched horror movies before. "Let's split up," in the creepy alien base was certainly a good way to die an ignominious and early death. His thoughts were interrupted by Cawl.

"I concur with… Jack," said the Archmagos, breaking the silence. Shepard noticed that he had some trouble saying "Jack". Hilariously, it probably had nothing to do with a debate between who was right, but rather a distaste to call someone by their first name rather than their title. Titles were much more dramatic, and Cawl lived for drama. The Commander didn't know how right he was; Primus's eye roll was hidden behind his heavy helm.

"Well, it's no good either way," said Miranda with a frown. "Both routes are blocked. See these doors?" she asked, pointing to the hologram. "The only way past is to get someone to open them through the other side." There were mutterings around the table.

"Someone could sneak through this ventilation shaft," offered Kasumi before anyone else could speak. "Shut down the security systems and open the doors." Shepard was about to comment, but Cawl beat him to the punch.

"There's no need for something so… drastic," said the Archmagos. "I can open the doors." Shepard turned to stare at him. Cawl stared right back. "I am a Tech-Priest, you know." He turned around to the rest of the squad. "The codes used by the Reapers on Rannoch are the same codes used here. I now know how they work. Such codes are now useless to the Reapers and any of their servants." Shepard sighed. Well, Cawl was a Tech-Priest. He was by far the greatest technological expert they had on the ship. If he said he could open the doors, then the doors would be open.

"Very well, then. Archmagos Cawl, you open the doors. We go in as a team, blast through the base, get to the control room, and destroy it." Shepard looked around at his crew. Despite all the problems they originally had, this was probably the finest group of people he'd ever had the pleasure of working with. Probably even better than his original crew aboard the original Normandy. "Any questions, anyone?" he asked. Strangely, it was the oddest individual here that answered.

"I have point." A deep, rumbling, scratch baritone, modified and slightly synthesized through its owner's helmet, rang through the room. Several of the crew actually slightly jumped at its sound. Shepard looked over to Cawl's tall, gray-clad bodyguard. He made a slight nervous gulping noise. Even though several of the Normandy's crew had heard him speak before, aboard the Serendipity, and Miranda and Jack had actually seen his face, Shepard had no idea this strange individual could even vocalize.

"Uh…" The Commander glanced between Cawl and Primus, then at Miranda, who nodded, then back to Primus again. "Who are you, exactly?" he asked. Red helmet lenses turned to stare at Shepard. The look behind them seemed to bore into his very soul.

"I am Alpha Primus," said Alpha Primus. "I have point," he repeated. In the background, Cawl nodded at Shepard, telling him that this was a wise decision. Shepard shook his head hesitantly, still spooked over this strange being.

"Okay then. You have point." Shepard turned around to look at the solemn faces of his team. "Right. The Collectors have been terrorizing our colonies, our galaxy, our homes for too long. Let's go show them what we're made of." Everyone gave growling cheers of approval as they filed out of the room, led by the bulky form of Alpha Primus.

oOo

The Normandy had landed on the side of the Collector base. As Shepard disembarked, he saw rents torn in the hull of his great ship, blackened and sparking. He shuddered. The Normandy was a fine ship, and it nearly broke his heart to see it this way. He put such thoughts aside. They didn't matter. Joker and the rest of the regular crew would fix it. Shepard kept his mind on the only thing that presently mattered: the mission.

Ahead of him, Alpha Primus made the small leap from the edge of the Normandy to the platform outside the base. He landed with a small thud. Cawl, Shepard, and Miranda, next in line, followed him. Shepard and Miranda slid or hopped the gab; Cawl clattered down it near-vertically, like a centipede. Shepard shuddered. As much as he liked Cawl, that movement was simply unnatural, too insectoid for his liking.

Primus continued forward, leaving no time for the crew to catch their breath or admire the base surrounding them. The huge Marine didn't stop, didn't look back, didn't wait. His massive weapon, the blocky projectile thing fit for his massive hands, was held out and ready. The only thing that mattered was the mission. Primus knew this team of eclectic individuals was supposed to be the best in the galaxy. They'd better be able to keep up.

For his part, Shepard found it odd following someone else. He was the Commander, the Hero of the Elysium, Savior of the Citadel, First Human Spectre, and N7. He was always in front, simply because he was the best. Now, he felt odd and outclassed by Cawl's strange bodyguard.

The team filed their way forward, each one of them in position. The biotics on the sides and spread throughout, their powers at the ready to support everyone else. Garrus at the back, sniper rifle ready and watching, waiting, hoping for some particularly unlucky Collector to pop their head up just one inch too far. Grunt and Shepard in the front with Cawl, ready to blast through any resistance that might have the infinitesimally small chance of making it past Alpha Primus. The tech experts were spread throughout the group, ready to contribute their particular brand of mechanized mayhem, interspaced with the remaining crew, ready and waiting.

As the team moved farther into the base, ever closer to their goal, Shepard looked back, sweeping his gaze over his crew. As he got to Tali, he smiled at her, and even though she could not see past his blank helmet, she smiled back. He couldn't see her smile, either, but he felt it, physically felt it rush over him like the sun after a rainstorm. At that moment, surrounded by twisted and bizarre alien architecture, in a hostile base filled with deadly enemies that no one had ever come out alive of, John Shepard realized there was nowhere he would rather be.

"Contact," called Primus calmly. The team whipped around, weapons already raised and prepared to fire. Primus beat them to it.

Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!

His weapon made a strange half-clang, half heavy booming noise. Unlike the zipping whining noise of mass accelerator weapons or lasguns, this one seemed extraordinarily loud in comparison. Huge brass shells ejected from its side port, and though Shepard couldn't see them, each one was engraved with the Imperial Aquila and the seal of Mars.

The shots were single-fire, four in rapid succession. Shepard looked over Primus's shoulder, and saw four Collectors, sprawled on the ground, messily dead. Each was missing their head, and laying in a puddle of bloody gore. Four shots, four head shots, four kills. Shepard nodded, impressed. Primus was good.

He was only getting the beginning of the picture.

"Ten o'clock," called Primus. His voice did not move beyond an icy, almost scarily calm baritone. It was if the Marine was on a firing range instead of a suicide mission. Shepard looked over where Primus had pointed out, and saw the insectoid forms of Collectors flying at them, wings buzzing through the darkness.

"Take cover!" ordered Shepard. Once more, he marveled over how there always seemed to be well-placed cover wherever he fought.

Primus did not take cover. He spun left and fired.

A Collector was thrown back in a geyser of gore, shot through the head. Another was taken through the neck, and its head and upper torso simply ceased to be. Spent brass casings were ejected from Primus's bolter as he advanced steadily, armored footsteps ringing on the dull rock-like floor. Two more shots were fired. Two more Collectors died.

Primus did not even seem to aim. Everything was all instinctive. It was as if he simply willed his bolt shells to land, and they obeyed. Turning, spinning, almost like a boxer, he fired again. Another Collector's head disappeared in a fountain of blood.

"Clear," called the Marine in the same icy calm voice. Shepard and his team poked their heads up from where they stood. No one had even been able to get off a shot. The entire battle lasted a matter of seconds.

"Damn," whistled Zaeed, impressed. In the back of the party, Garrus's mandibles were slack. Shepard and Miranda simply stared. Primus had just dropped nine Collectors in nine shots, and in less than nine seconds.

Primus took no notice. He began walking forward. The rest of the team, galvanized by his action, hurriedly stumbled after him. Behind his metal faceplate, Belisarius Cawl smiled to himself.

oOo

The team reached the next room. More and more Collectors kept coming. Normally, Shepard would be wondering if his decision to not split up was a good one. The Collectors were attracted by the large number of people here. If there were two teams, one could sneak by while the other engaged the majority of the Collectors. However, it didn't really matter. These were far from normal circumstances.

Alpha Primus turned and fired twice, his bolter ringing its staccato tattoo of death throughout the base's humid air. Two empty shells clattered on the ground with muffled clangs! Two more Collectors died.

Primus's gauntled hands moved in a blur of motion snapping the empty bolter magazine from its place and grabbing a fresh one from his belt. The empty magazine fell to the ground, forgotten, as a new one nearly instantly took its place. Primus was already firing before his empty magazine hit the ground.

Blam! Blam!

Two more shots. Two more kills. A Collector flew in close, seeking to flank the gray-armored Marine. Primus spun, right hand holding his bolter and firing, still firing, still hitting targets with flawless accuracy as his left hand moved in one fluid motion, grabbing the knife at his belt, and neatly impaled the incoming Collector through the forehead. He retracted the knife with a sharp jerk, and the Collector dropped to the floor, dead.

Another Collector tumbled back, smoking crater blown in its chest. Primus's accuracy one-handed devolved from hitting headshots to perfect center-mass shots. That was something not even Wrex, or any of the Spectres Shepard heard of could do. Primus might not have been one of the Emperor's Angels, but he was nevertheless still an Angel of Death.

The team moved up, forced in an odd, awkward jog to keep up with Primus's lengthy steps. The Marine didn't even break stride to fight. He kept walking, kept moving, kept advancing as his boltgun boomed and Collectors died around him.

The Collectors were coming faster now, attracted to the mass of intruders and directed to stop them. The Normandy's team was even able to get in shots of their own. Shepard's hellgun spat carefully-aimed crimson bolts, crackling and hissing through the base's dim interior, illuminating the damp air and blasting Collectors like the bugs they were. Garrus and Thane's sniper rifles were there, snapping crisp shots at incoming enemies, their usual incomparable lethalness vastly surpassed by Alpha Primus.

The biotics added their power into the fray, throwing Collectors through the air like toys. They fought flawlessly, bodies shining with warping blue energy fields. Moving through the squad, harmonizing, protecting the Normandy's crew and fighting together almost as one, the biotics melded together, blending their power and dispersing it throughout the squad and chamber. Shepard grinned. There were very few things in the galaxy that could face his squad and come out on top.

But the Collectors kept coming. Their numbers kept growing. They were almost to the end, almost to the doors that Cawl said he could open, when the true potential of the Collectors came forward…

…and Alpha Primus unleashed his full power.

"Assuming direct control." The voice rang through the huge chamber, seemingly coming from every direction at once. It was as if the Normandy's crew were simply cells in this grand being's body, insignificant and unable to fight it. Ahead of them, a Collector rose up in the air, head twitching violently and arms pressed against its sides, as if possessed. It glowed a terrible yellow-orange, unstable light shining, pouring from every crack in its cybernetic body. With a final audible snap of its vertebrae, the possessed Collector turned to look at the squad. Squadrons of additional Collectors flocked to its side, outnumbering the Normandy's strike force nearly fifty to one. The Collectors took position as the possessed one, glowing with sickly light, turned towards Shepard.

Shepard heard his squad murmur at something. He paid it no mind, and raised his hellgun. There was bile in his throat as he sighted at the body of the possessed Collector. There was only one thing that had that sort of voice, that spoke as this thing did. Reapers.

In the back of his mind, Shepard could feel a growing pressure, like an incoming thunderstorm. His gut twisted and churned into a knot. He winced, facial muscles contracting as he tried to fight off this strange new feeling. Was it the Reaper? Could it, even here, while not in its own body, have this sort of affect on him? His finger curled around the trigger of his weapon. The temperature in the chamber dropped significantly, turning the place from merely unpleasant to nearly unbearable. It was cold and damp, like a sewer in wintertime. The Reaper pointed an accusing finger at Shepard.

"I am Harbinger. You are ignorant, we are knowing. You escaped us before, Shepard. Not again." The pressure in Shepard's mind grew, making him nearly stagger. It was a migraine now, throbbing in his head with unbearable certainty. "We are your genetic destiny. We-"

"This conversation is over," interrupted Alpha Primus. The pressure dropped. Shepard spun. Primus no longer held his bolter. Instead, it was strapped to his back, magnetically locked to his armor. Both his hands were raised high in the air. And… god. Shepard realized the terrible pressing sensation was coming from Primus.

Eldritch power flowed over his body, tongues of strange blue fire dripping through his fingers. The lenses of his helmet were pure electric blue, glowing with such a feverish intensity it made Shepard shudder. Unholy light coated his form, building up around his helmet and dripping like molten wax down his torso. Primus let it build. Reality itself shuddered. The pressure became even more intense.

In a moment, it was released. With but a simple flick of his hand, a bolt of pure Warp energy, glowing blue and magenta, lanced towards Harbinger. It hit him with such force his possessed body rocketed a full ten meters back before hitting a wall. Every bone in the Collector's body shattered as it slumped over, dead. The light faded from its body and eyes.

"Kill them." ordered Harbinger, the Reaper's voice echoing throughout the chamber. The Collectors raised their weapons to fire.

Primus held up a hand, palm facing upward. Every Collector in front of him levitated upwards, floating in mid-air, chittering in distress. Primus made a fist. Every Collector in the chamber exploded into bloody giblets.

"Jesus," whispered Zaeed. Shepard could only nod along dumbly. Zaeed certainly wasn't a religious man, but taking the name of an old religious deity, half in vain, half in prayer, only seemed right. Shepard's crew stared in both awe and abject terror. Miranda looked at her hand numbly, comparing her now-seemingly-insignificant power to Primus's.

Cawl, who had done nearly nothing at this point, clattered forward on his numerous metal legs. It was not that he didn't want to do something, it was that he merely didn't have a chance. His weaponry was closer range, and Primus and the Normandy's crew had been taking out everything that came close up until that point. He didn't particularly mind. Melta weapons were terribly messy. Better not to fire them and accidentally cook one of the Normandy's crew.

Humming cheerfully to himself, Cawl approached the huge metal door. It was sealed, predictably. The Archmagos paused for a moment as Primus let his power dissipate and drew his bolter once more. He nodded approvingly to himself. Primus's psychic power was seldom used, but terribly potent when it was. The psychic power was an unexpected, but welcome, bonus to Cawl creation. Primus was more powerful than any normal Space Marine librarian; even such mighty names as Ezekiel or Tigurius couldn't match him. The only other Space Marine, loyal or traitor, who might come close to Primus was Ahzek Ahriman, former First Captain of the Thousand Sons.

Stooping down near a collection of particularly nasty puddles of ex-Collector, Cawl reached down and picked up a strange, nearly ovular weapon. He turned it over in a pair of secondary hands, supported by mechadendrites. His critical eye examined the weapon.

"Interesting. Very interesting. Some sort of beam weapon!" He looked over cheerfully to Shepard and the rest of the Normandy's crew. They were all still staring, slack-jawed, at Primus. For his part, the Marine simply stood, bolter in hand, ready to continue. Cawl was certain there was a small smile beneath Primus's helmet. He shrugged to himself. Oh, well. Primus's psychic power was far more dramatic than anything he could say aloud.

Sighing to himself, the Archmagos moved over to the door. It was rather jarring to take a secondary role to Primus. Cawl was always the one who acted center stage. In the end, it didn't really matter. Perhaps it was a good thing to give Primus his own chance in the limelight for once. Snapping out of his thoughts, Cawl brought up the codes to bypass the door in the noosphere. With the binary world flowing around him, the Archmagos simply made a motion and the doors swept open. He now knew the Reaper code. They would never work for their dark masters again. Or, at least until they came up with new ones.

"Onwards!" he called. Primus stepped forward, and the crew began their trek into the bowels of the Collector base once again.

They reached the large center chamber, where the lost colonists were supposed to be held. The architecture here was strange, even stranger than the rest of the base. It was like some dark, twisted, and terrifying cross between a beehive and industrial factory. Rows upon rows of pods, all empty, stood on the walls, all leading upward into heavy metal tubes. The massive pipes lef onward, further into the base, providing fuel or plumbing for… something. No one, not even Cawl or Primus, knew.

"Those tubes lead into the main control room above us," commented Tali, bringing up a diagram of the base on her omni-tool. She looked over to Cawl and Primus, then back to Shepard. "The route is blocked by a security door, but there's another way that runs parallel to this chamber."

"Which way's faster?" asked Shepard. Tali checked her omni-tool once more.

"Probably the parallel route," she replied.

"There are high levels of thermal emission coming from that route," said Cawl, giving his input. "There seem to be… seeker swarms, I believe you call them, throughout the chamber."

"My countermeasures cannot stop that number of seekers at once," rattled off Mordin, speaking as fast as ever. Shepard frowned. The multitudes of tiny robots would quickly overrun and kill them if they went that way.

"Can we take the other route?" he asked. Cawl tilted his head, consulting some invisible database.

"No," he said eventually. "The door is sealed. It can only be physically opened from the other side, even with the codes. We would have to go through the parallel chamber with the seekers." The Tech-Priest shrugged. "I'm sure we could find some way to do this."

"I might be able to generate a biotic field to keep them at bay," said Samara. Cawl looked over at the Asari with a faintly disapproving glance. "I won't be able to protect all of us, but I could get a small team through if they stayed close."

"So… a psychic field could keep them at bay," interrupted Primus. Everyone turned to look at him with a faint aura of dread. The Marine was… intimidating at the best of times. Now that they'd seen his true and full potential, he was downright terrifying.

"Yes…" trailed off Samara, unsure for the first time in centuries. If something made an Asari Justicar uncertain, then that something was most likely extraordinarily dangerous. Alpha Primus certainly fit that description.

"Then I can keep all of you safe," rumbled the Marine in response. "We can take the route with the seekers, with little fear of reprisal." Shepard wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he took it that Primus could actually project a protective barrier powerful enough to protect all of them. He shuddered again. Not even Jack and Samara, two of the most powerful human and Asari biotics respectively, could come close to that.

"Okay then," replied Shepard, taking a deep breath. He nodded at Primus, then the rest of his squad. "Let's move out." A group of hesitant, yet resolute nods followed him. Garrus gave Shepard a discrete thumbs up. He smiled in response as the strike force began to move out.

The passage was dark, darker than the rest of the base. The squad moved forward at a normal pace: Primus, maintaining the huge barrier, was slowed down. Though, slowed down for a Space Marine meant going at a comfortable walking pace for a normal human instead of a jog. A translucent barrier of energy surrounded the team, encompassing Cawl, Shepard, and every member of the Normandy's crew with room to spare. Occasionally, flickers of color, ranging from light yellows to deep purples would flicker through it, like rainbows in the mist. Seeker swarms pattered against it with faint crackling, hissing noises, but Shepard felt oddly safe under Primus's protection.

Collectors would come at them with regular certainty, but the crew of the Normandy pushed them back. Occasionally, Harbinger would, in his own words, assume direct control and possess a Collector. Such avatars of the Reaper were more powerful than normal Collectors, but still defeatable. Shepard found out with grim amusement that a full-power hellgun bolt to the face would easily do the trick.

They kept moving forward steadily. Garrus and Thane would pick off flying or dangerous incoming Collectors, while the rest were dealt with by the medium-ranged members of the crew. At one point, a round pinged off Primus's helmet. Still maintaining his barrier, the Marine turned and stared at the Collector who had shot him. It quite literally withered away and shriveled to a husk beneath Primus's gaze. Shepard shivered. At least Primus and Cawl were on his side. He would have to make sure they stayed that way.

They were farther in, farther through the chamber now. The only thing that mattered was to keep moving, to keep going, to complete the mission. Primus didn't slow down; in fact, he sped up slightly, like a runner who knew the last lap was coming and tried to give it their all.

The Normandy's crew blitzed through the last collection of Collectors, mass accelerator rounds whizzing into the flesh of a species long dead. Crimson las bolts from Shepard joined in, blowing apart husks and swooping insectoids. Cawl even joined the fight at one point, solar atomiser charging up and disintegrating a bunched group of Collectors where they stood. His arc scourge crackled to life, claws splaying open as the raw power of the Motive Force danced through it, reaching out and shocking any enemy that came close.

There was one last causeway through the seeker chamber before they reached safety. Primus was moving faster now, his steps more determined. His barrier still stayed up, still stayed at full power even though the Marine had been projecting it for minutes now. Shepard was starting to think there was nothing Primus couldn't do.

The Normandy's crew was a well-oiled machine, fighting flawlessly in tandem with each other. The biotics did not need to protect; Primus was already doing that. Biotic blasts, accompanied by the tech specialists' engineering tricks, bowled over scores of Collectors. Shepard and Grunt shot down any that came too close in front, while Garrus and Thane blasted away any that might even come close to posing a threat to the unstoppable juggernaut that was the Normandy's crew.

They moved over the causeway at double-time, sprinting past Cawl and Primus for the safety of the doors at the end of the chamber. Those that got there first set up covering fire for the rest, blasting away at any Collector that came close to threatening their teammates. Primus stayed in position, waiting, barrier still up, making sure that everyone made it across and into the safety of the next room. Garrus, taking up the rear with his sniper rifle, was last across.

Primus simply stood there, waiting. Cawl, as faithful to his subordinate and surrogate son as Primus was to him, stood behind him, in the middle of Primus's protective barrier. Shepard stood up as the Normandy's crew blasted away at seeker swarms and a few flying Collectors.

"Come on!" he yelled, motioning for the two to move forward.

They did not listen. Instead, a mounting pressure built in the back of Shepard's head. The temperature in the chamber dropped. Ice crystals began to form on Shepard's shoulder pads. His armor started to compensate, increasing its internal temperature. A thin layer of frost coated Primus's slate gray armor. The Marine's eyes crackled with empyrean power. His fingertips sparked with eldritch energy. He held up his hands above his head, palms facing up, then with a shout of exertion, flung the barrier outward.

A wave of ethereal energy flew through the chamber. It howled like the center of a storm, swirling and pulsing. Terrible colors that shouldn't be able to exist churned throughout the interior of the Collector base. The wave connected with the seeker swarms, shattering them like glass. Small pieces tumbled down, clattering and clanging softly as they met the floor many meters below. Primus lowered his hands and let go of his power. The chamber stilled.

In the silence, Shepard could hear nothing but the faint ragged breathing of his squad. The buzzing of the seeker swarms was gone. Primus had destroyed every last one of them.

The Marine himself rolled his shoulders and twisted his neck slightly, as if loosening a crick in his neck from a long-run race. He said nothing. Instead, Primus simply unstrapped his bolter as Cawl moved forward to open the door.

The Tech-Priest worked silently. Absent-mindedly, Shepard noticed Cawl was still carrying the Collector particle beam. He grinned to himself. It seemed this mission wasn't a total loss for the Archmagos.

"There!" crooned Cawl triumphantly. "I've got it!" The heavy black doors in front of their position slid open noiselessly. The squad moved quickly and professionally through the door. It closed behind them with a faint clunk. Cawl hefted his axe and new beam weapon as everyone took note of the chamber they had just entered.

"What now?" asked Kasumi. Shepard looked around, surveying their surroundings.

"There are some platforms over there that should take us to the main control console," pointed out Tali, checking the map of the base on her omni-tool. "From there we can overload the system and destroy the base."

"Always funny that there's a way to do that," muttered Zaeed. A few of the crew snorted along in amused agreement.

"Just don't go pushing any big red buttons until I say so," joked Shepard.

"There are hostiles massing outside the door," reported Cawl. Shepard didn't ask how the Tech-Priest had gotten that particular tidbit of information. He was entirely sure he wanted to know. "It is their base. They have the firepower. It won't be long before they break through."

"Can't you stop them?" demanded Miranda. Cawl sighed.

"Of course I can. They can't hack the door. However, my technological defenses are rather useless if they blow it down."

"Okay," interrupted Garrus. "What we do is have some people go up to destroy the base, while everyone else stays here to defend this position and buy more time. Tactics," he said with the equivalent of a Turian grin. "The only question is… whose going up?" Shepard looked around. Everyone seemed rather certain that he should go, judging by their looks.

"I can go," said Cawl with a nonchalant shrug. "A Tech-Priest's expertise is always welcome in situations such as this," he offered. For his part, Shepard had to agree. Cawl would definitely be a great help, especially if they ran into trouble or any more insidious technological defenses.

"Okay." The Commander looked around. "I guess I'm going, since this is my mission and all." He pointed at the massive red-robed Priest. "Archmagos, you're with me. We might need your help." Cawl nodded happily and clattered over towards the platforms leading up. Primus stepped forward to follow him. Shepard made a move to stop him.

"We might need your help down here," he told the Marine. Glowing red helmet lenses bored down on the smaller human. Shepard gulped.

"Where my Master goes, I go," replied Primus in a tone that brooked no argument. Shepard let him pass.

"Okay then," he said, looking around at his remaining team members. "Well, I guess-"

"Some of us should go with you," interrupted Jacob. The rest of the squad nodded along.

"We've been with you this far. We should see you to the end," added Samara. Shepard smiled softly underneath his helmet, touched.

"Do you think you could handle the rest of the Collectors if I took a few of you with me?" he asked. A series of chuckles and derisive snorts greeted him.

"Of course we can, Battlemaster," rumbled Grunt. Shepard couldn't help but laugh.

"Just checking. I know you all can." He gestured towards Garrus and Tali. "Garrus, Tali, you're with me." Just as Samara said, those that had been with him this far should be there until the end. Out of everyone Shepard had ever met, out of every single individual in the universe, there was no one he trusted more than Garrus and Tali. They were there in the beginning. They trusted him and stood at his side when no one else would. He loved them both: one as the brother he never had, the other as the one love of his life. If he was to bring anyone, he'd definitely be bringing them. Shepard grinned over to the rest of the team. "The rest of you… give 'em hell." A chorus of approvals and warlike growls rang out after him as he mounted the rising platform with Garrus, Tali, Cawl, and Primus and vanished from sight.

The platform raised itself slowly through the huge interior of the Collector base. Shepard, though he hated to do so, had to appreciate the majesty of this place. He could now see everything: all the tubes, all the architecture in this huge main chamber, and even though it was all damp, grim, and terrible, it had a certain dark appeal to it. Garrus and Tali stood by his side, saying nothing, though they looked around as much as he did. In the silence, Shepard appreciated their company.

Cawl hummed to himself, looking around like a tourist might in a particularly interesting new location. The Tech-Priest was completely at ease, his strange mechanical body and crimson robe blending in perfectly with the dark and brooding atmosphere around him. Primus stood silently by his side, bolter at the ready, unmoving, simply waiting.

The ride was interrupted by a strange whirring, humming noise, interspersed with high-pitched whines. Shepard looked up to see another platform, this one filled with Collectors, levitating through the air.

"Hostiles on approach!" warned Garrus, extending his sniper rifle in one fluid motion and taking aim at the incoming Collectors. Shepard readied his hellgun, only to brace himself as the temperature near the platform plunged. Pressure built up between his eyes; though this time he was more accustomed to it and able to fight off its effects. Primus's helmet lenses glowed an eerie electric blue as unholy lightning flashed about his form. The Marine reached out a hand, almost grabbing at the incoming platform. He reached out and flicked his wrist as if he was simply scrolling through an omni-tool. The Collectors' platform rocketed through the air and slammed into a wall. Sparking and hissing, the annoying whine of its propulsion systems gone, it plummeted downwards, only to land with a crashing boom several seconds later.

Primus turned casually back to Shepard, Garrus, and Tali, and took up his bolter once more.

"Hostiles neutralized," he said calmly. Tali hummed nervously. Garrus's mandibles made the Turian equivalent of a splutter. Shepard winced. He was certainly glad that he'd brought Primus and Cawl along. A little frightened, to be sure, but glad nevertheless.

The Collectors sent in several more floating platforms towards them as the team went along. Each one made the same annoying whining noise. Each one was simply batted away by Primus. At one instance, the Marine got annoyed by a particularly accurate Collector and made a fist, crushing its platform with the might of his mind.

Shepard, Garrus, and Tali huddled closer together now, miffed and somewhat frightened by Primus's power. Whatever strange forces he commanded were far greater than anything a biotic could do. In fact, Primus was probably the deadliest combatant Shepard had ever seen, and that was saying a lot. The only things that could probably defeat him were Reapers and Titans. The strange, gray-armored Marine could probably crush a Knight with the power of his mind alone. Now that was true power, and that was terrifying. Shepard made a mental note to do everything in his power to keep Alpha Primus on his side. The consequences of fighting such a being otherwise were too horrible to contemplate.

Eventually, they reached the top. All of the tubes led to this point in the base. Shepard looked up, carefully watching. A good soldier always took note of their surroundings. The tubes seemed to feed into some sort of large superstructure. As the platform moved forward, Shepard squinted forward only to let out a gasp. He looked around, embarrassed that his friends might have heard such a strange sound come from him, but they were reacting the same way. Cawl and Primus both made some sort of low, involuntary growling noises.

The tubes, in their entirety, fed into a Reaper. Not just any Reaper… A human Reaper.

It could be nothing else. The sleek metallic carapace, the style, the design, the way it hung, suspended by the tubes… it was a Reaper. However, instead of the terrible insectoid or cephalopod body that most Reapers seemed to possess, this one was humanoid. It had a torso, two arms, shoulders, a neck, and a humanoid head. For some reason, the head had three eyes: one eye in its right socket, two in its left. Shepard didn't quite know why. One of the Reapers' 'upgrades', he supposed.

Reapers, Shepard remembered, were supposed to "impose order on the chaos of evolution" or some such nonsense as that. Harbinger had taunted that, "We are your genetic destiny," and, "Your worlds will become our laboratories." Shepard shivered. So, that was what the Reaper meant. That was what the terrible machine race wanted to do. Harvest organics…

…and process them into Reapers.

"Abomination," hissed Cawl. The Archmagos was known for dabbling in the less regulated and perhaps slightly more heretical side of things, but even he was disgusted at the sight of the human Reaper. This was everything he fought against. This was why the Mechanicus was created in the first place. To stop humanity from becoming, whether willing or not, into genetic or technological monstrosities. While Cawl might have been on the more heretical side of things, he had a line, and this thing crossed it.

The Tech-Priest looked disgustedly at the Collector particle beam in his hands, then tossed it off the side of the platform. Sour grapes or an uncharacteristic change of mind, perhaps, but after seeing the Reaper in construction here, Cawl wanted nothing to do with the technology of this place. He could make better, anyway.

The platform landed softly in front of the half-finished Reaper. Cawl examined it with disgust. Tubes, several of them glowing with strange orange-ish fluid, fed into the Reaper's shoulders and torso.

"This thing needs to die," remarked Shepard, appalled at the apparent fate of the colonists who had gone missing seemingly so long ago.

"Those tubes, especially the open glass ones with the orange liquid, are holding up the Reaper," said Cawl. The Tech-Priest was far from his usual animated and cheerful self. He wanted to see this abomination die just as much as Shepard. "Gunfire could destroy them, and cause the Reaper to fall into the abyss below." Shepard nodded.

"Good idea." Before he could unsling his hellgun, he was interrupted by a familiar annoying whine. Shepard rolled his eyes.

"Incoming, three o'clock," warned Garrus. Another Collector platform moved forward, intent on stopping the impudent humans that dared destroy the project they had worked so long on.

With an annoyed sigh, Alpha Primus telekinetically threw the platform into the right-side tubes on the Reaper, destroying them and sending the platform plunging to a fiery death far below.

"Two down, two to go," rumbled the Marine. Shepard grinned. His hellgun came up and targeted the remaining tubes on the Reaper's right shoulder (Shepard's left). Garrus's sniper rifle and Tali's heavy pistol joined the fray, and the tubes shattered, spewing orange liquid everywhere, dousing the Reaper's torso in the vile substance. The team watched as the Reaper buckled, then toppled forward and fell into the vastness of the chasm below.

"I think that'll do it," remarked Shepard. He brought a hand up and activated comms to the remaining members of the Normandy's crew fighting below.

"This is Shepard. How are you guys doing down there?" he asked. The response came quickly.

"This is Thane. We are holding but a quick exit would be preferable," replied the Drell.

"Copy that," responded Shepard. "Head to the Normandy. We'll blow this place sky-high and follow you there."

"Understood. See you there, Commander." Shepard turned over to see Cawl interfacing with a central terminal, mechadendrites polking at holographic buttons. He nodded satisfied. Time to get out of this place. He was interrupted by Joker.

"Uh, Commander, I have an incoming signal from the Illusive Man," said the pilot. Shepard turned, frowning. What did the Cerberus leader want now? "Patching it through to you." The Commander held out his omni-tool, and a holographic image of the Illusive Man projected into the air.

"Shepard," began the Man. "You've done the impossible."

"We're not done yet," replied Shepard, slightly annoyed over the interruption. "Ten more minutes, and this place is gone."

"Wait! I have a better option." Shepard turned over to the Man, listening. Cawl clattered into the picture. The Illusive Man turned. "Ah! Archmagos. Good of you to be here. I'm sure that you, of all people, will understand my plan." Cawl said nothing, but made a motion with a free hand for the leader of Cerberus to keep talking.

"Your plan?" asked Shepard, tired of the waiting, tired of the drama.

"A timed radiation pulse would kill the remaining Collectors, but leave the machinery and technology intact." Oh. Oh, no. That was a very bad idea, at least in Shepard's opinion. Reaper technology, which everything here was, corrupted. Sovereign corrupted Saren and Benezia, two of the most ancient, powerful, and resolute minds he'd ever heard of. What was worse was that both of them were in there, trying desperately to fight back against the ancient Machines that controlled their minds. He'd talked to Saren in a moment of lucidity, and the terrible and powerful Turian Spectre actually seemed scared. Reaper technology should not be messed with. However, the Adeptus Mechanicus and Cerberus were precisely the types of people to cheerfully mess with things they shouldn't… and pay terrible consequences later.

Shepard looked over fearfully to Cawl, who seemed to be considering the offer. Cerberus and the Mechanicus were alike in more ways than one. The worst part was both were human supremacist groups. The Mechanicus personnel Shepard had talked to seemed to approve of Cerberus. If the Illusive Man gave his usual spiel about giving humanity the advantage, Shepard was afraid Cawl would actually agree.

However, it was the Illusive Man's tendency for self-justification and dramatic over-elaboration that doomed him.

"This is our chance!" said the Man. "They were building a Reaper. That knowledge, that framework, could save us." At this, Cawl looked up sharply.

"What do you mean?" he asked. There was a tone in Cawl's voice that Shepard had never heard before. It sounded like… guarded suspicion.

"I mean that the Reapers are the most deadly force in the galaxy," continued the Illusive Man, cheerfully oblivious to Cawl's hooded tone. "There is a way, a better way to fight them. If we could use their own technology against them, then we could win this war. If we could find some way to control the Reapers, then-"

"I've heard enough," interrupted Cawl. The Archmagos spun to his gray-armored bodyguard. "Alpha Primus, when we get out of here… kill him."

"With pleasure," replied Primus with relish. For Primus, there was a very clear line between experimentation for the good of humanity, like the projects of Cawl or the Emperor, and trying to bend forces you had no hope of controlling to you for personal gain, like the Traitor Legions. The Illusive Man definitely fell into the latter category, and Primus would gladly pay him back for all the suffering Cerberus had caused its 'experiments'. Like Jack. For Jack.

Shepard cut the connection with a grin. Finally, someone saw the Illusive Man for what he truly was: someone out for their own gain. The Man was like a politician: good at speeches, good at justifications for atrocities, perhaps starting off with noble goals, but eventually more corrupt as time went on. Thank the Omnissiah that the Mechanicus was steeped in tradition. It got a little annoying at times, but tradition meant there was a line most Tech-Priests would not cross. Cawl, even though he skirted it at times, knew the line between playing with dangerous toys and endangering one's soul by dabbling with things like Chaotic artifacts or Reaper technology.

"Let's go," said Shepard, proud that he had allies he could finally count on. Cawl was good at thinking for himself; a skill that most people he came across sorely lacked. "We have ten minutes before this place blows." As Shepard turned around, the platform shuddered. He held his arms out, fighting for balance, as Tali and Garrus skittered across the platform's surface.

Looking back, Shepard saw one of the worst sights he'd ever had the displeasure to lay eyes on. The Reaper wasn't dead. Instead, it clawed its way back upwards, and loomed over the platform like a malevolent specter of death, eyes glowing a terrible orange.

"Aim for the eyes!" called Tali. As one, Shepard, Tali, and Garrus brought up their weapons and fired. Mass accelerator rounds zipped and hissed as heavier crimson las bolts thrummed towards the Reaper's head. Cawl joined in, his shorter-ranged but extraordinary powerful weapons crackling and whirring.

The temperature dropped once again as Primus called upon his dark powers. Warp lightning flickered and hissed around his form as baleful energies swirled. He did not unleash anything, but seemed to be concentrating on the Reaper itself, staring it down as if the power of his gaze alone could slay it. From what Shepard had seen earlier, he wouldn't be surprised if it did.

The Reaper fought back, swiping sideways at the smaller creatures in front of it. Occasionally, it would open its mouth, spewing strange balls of energy at Cawl, Primus, and the Normandy team. For their part, Shepard, Garrus, and Tali hung on grimly, fighting back with everything they had.

The terrible construct seemed to be staggering now. It moved slower, more sluggishly, and Shepard could hear some faint cracking noise emitting from its body. Good. He kept firing, confident that they were hurting the Reaper, until a huge pressure built up in the back of his mind.

Oh. So it was once more Primus that was doing the heavy lifting.

The Reaper shrieked aloud, a horrifying, unnatural sound that should never come from something that powerful. Its head shuddered and convulsed, then seemed to shrink inwards. It imploded with the force of an exploding sun. Directly where the Reaper's head had been was a vortex of dark energy, sucking in the remaining scraps of its neck. Primus had just created what was essentially a black hole inside the Reaper's head. Shepard couldn't be anything else but impressed by that.

The feeling was short-lived. With the terrible screaming of rent metal, the Reaper collapsed directly on top of the platform. It trailed down, arms sliding off limply as it made its final descent into the abyss, this time fully dead.

However, dead or not, it seemed to make its final mission to take out what enemies it could. The platform tilted diagonally, closer to vertical than horizontal. Shepard was able to keep his footing, luckily sliding into a container. However, closer to the back of the platform, Tali and Garrus were not so fortunate. They lost their balance, arms flailing, and tumbled towards the platform's edge.

Shepard saw them go as if in slow motion. He remembered Tali nearly falling to her doom aboard the Geth station during the Dawn War. She looked desperately at him, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop her downward slide. Next to her, Garrus reached out hopelessly, fear in his eyes, trying to reach out to Shepard. Shepard saw them both go, saw them both slide, and knew they would both plummet to their deaths unless he did not intervene.

A voice in his head, sounding suspiciously like the Illusive Man, whispered, "Choose," to him. He looked back and forth, seeing the terrified expressions of the two people he loved most in this galaxy. Choose. Your love, your life, who you saved twice in the Dawn War, who loves you more than life itself. Your best friend, your six o'clock shadow, your brother who you can joke with and tell anything to. Choose. One or the other. You cannot save them both.

Commander John Shepard politely told the voice in his head to go screw itself, and jumped after both of them.

It was, perhaps, not the greatest of ideas, nor the greatest of rescues. Shepard slid downward after Tali and Garrus. There wasn't really anything to grab onto; nothing to slow his descent. He didn't particularly care. Shepard was more than happy to die with Tali and Garrus. If he rescued them, great. If he didn't… that was fine too. He'd meet them somewhere in the afterlife.

High above, Belisarius Cawl locked his legs in place. They made a terrible screeching noise as they buried themselves into the metal of the platform. However, it worked. The claw-like tips of his legs deep in the platform, Cawl stopped moving and took stock of the situation as only a Tech-Priest could.

Next to him, Alpha Primus, weary from the use of his psychic power and off-balance, slipped and fell towards the abyss. Cawl reached out with his hand. Primus grabbed it around the wrist. Tired though he may be, Primus was still a Space Marine, still a prodigy, still aware of his surroundings.

Held in place by Cawl, Primus swung backwards until his boots made contact with the surface of the platform. They magnetically locked into place. Secure, the Marine reached out a hand and called upon the empyrean. Below him, the plummeting forms of Shepard, Garrus, and Tali stopped, suspended in mid-air. They looked around, twisting in alarm, only to look back up towards the platform. Primus had them. They would be fine.

oOo

There was no warning. One moment, space was calm. The next, a massive portal, straight to hell, opened in front of Kronos Station. From the portal came a ship. It was at least fifteen kilometers long, emblazoned with the skull and cogwheel symbol of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Huge guns, almost the size of destroyers, lined its port and starboard. The Cerberus technicians aboard the station scrambled, trying to lock down anything valuable and get any available military forces ready.

"Attention." The announcement came on every screen, every omni-tool, every speaker, every available technological interface. Many of the Cerberus personnel aboard Kronos Station tried to close the message or shut down their omni-tools. It didn't work. The message would play until its speaker deemed it finished. "Attention. This is Archmagos Belisarius Cawl of the Adeptus Mechanicus. The leader of Ceberus, the Illusive Man, has been declared Excommunicate Traitoris. Mechanicus personnel will be boarding your station shortly. Do not resist. We offer any of you who surrender or who do not fight back a place in the Mechanicus continuing your old work for the betterment of mankind. Stay in your quarters, and you will not be harmed. You may continue your work for the betterment of humanity under the jurisdiction of the Mechanicus. If you resist, you will be terminated." The message closed out, and every interface it had played on shut down. No one could bring them back to life.

From the Serendipity came a shuttle. It was heavy and bulky, covered with armored plating and bristling with weapons. It flew towards Kronos Station's main hangar unhurriedly. Inside, Cerberus personnel prepared desperately for its arrival. The scientists, technicians, and other non-combat staff were all locked away in safe rooms or in their quarters. The soldiers wouldn't be going down without a fight.

The hangar doors slid open noiselessly. They had been on lockdown; only able to open when the lockdown was lifted. Cawl did not care, and subsequently remotely opened the doors himself.

Inside, waiting for the shuttle, was a massive collection of Cerberus soldiers, accompanied by three fearsome Atlas mechs. They had all been scrambled the moment the Serendipity had arrived in-system to provide the first line of defense for Kronos Station. Each soldier waited tersely, clutching their weapons and fidgeting in their armor. The Atlas mechs, Cerberus-made mechanical walkers that combined the firepower of a YMIR mech with the tactical superiority of a trained human pilot instead of a mechanical brain, spun up their accelerator cannons as the Mechanicus shuttle came into the hangar.

The shuttle fired first. Before any of the mechs could get off their rockets or heavy cannons, las cannons flashed through the space of the huge hangar. The heavy crimson bolts impacted the Atlas mechs, blasting them apart in huge balls of fire and disintegrating their pilots where they sat. Kinetic barriers could not stop laser weapons.

The Cerberus infantry soldiers opened up with their individual weapons. Mass accelerator rounds pinged harmlessly off the shuttle's armor. Rotating in place, the shuttle turned and let loose with its underslung rocket pods. They spat explosive death at the Cerberus soldiers, pounding them into bloody pulp. The shuttle kept rotating, kept firing, until it was certain every hostile in the room had been dealt with. While kinetic barriers could stop explosives and shrapnel, they couldn't hope to stem the tide of sheer overwhelming firepower coming from the shuttle.

Certain that everyone in the hangar had been overkilled to eternity and back, the shuttle landed. A metal ramp descended, and a single figure walked out. Clad in slate gray power armor and clutching a huge bolter in his hands, Alpha Primus looked around the hangar introspectively. The charred and blasted bodies of the Atlas mechs stood in the background as he began to make his way deeper into Kronos Station, stepping over the shredded corpses of Cerberus soldiers.

Primus and Cawl had gotten off the Collector base safely with the rest of the Normandy's crew. After he saved Shepard, Tali, and Garrus, the group that destroyed the human Reaper had hustled out of the darkness of the base and into the light. The Normandy had picked them up promptly, and the crew had flown off in triumph as the Collector base exploded behind them. The crew seemed nervous around him; unfortunately, it was to be expected. Psykers were not trusted, and for good reason. Their powers were terrifying to behold, and made anyone watching apprehensive. Of course, if a psyker was not well-trained, far worse results could happen. Daemonic incursion, spontaneous combustion, Warp-borne mutations… There was a damn good reason why most Imperial Guard psykers had Commissars watching them at all times. Psykers were unpredictable.

What Primus was not prepared for was the thankfulness. It was an emotion that he'd never really experienced coming from others in his 10,000 years of life. The crew of the Normandy was thankful that he was there. Thankful that he had helped them. Shepard, Garrus, and Tali were thankful that he used his powers to save them. It was a very bizarre feeling, but not an unwelcome one. It was nice for someone beyond Cawl to appreciate his existence.

Along the way to the central chamber that contained the Illusive Man, Primus encountered little resistance. Such a statement was perhaps not entirely accurate. A better one was that Primus didn't encounter anything that could slow down a Space Marine and alpha-grade psyker.

Primus walked the corridors of Kronos Station as a god of death. Cerberus soldiers were burnt to a crisp, their bodies consumed by hungry orange fire with but a flick of Primus's hand. Atlas, YMIR, and Loki mechs were crushed by telekinetic force. Eldritch lightning wreathed his form, tendrils of untamed power flickering and warping reality as he walked. As Primus extended his fingers, the lightning would corse forward, reducing his opponents to spasming corpses. The lenses of his helmet glowed with the power of the empyrean as he bent powers beyond any mortal's grasp to his will. Alpha Primus was truly one of the deadliest individuals to ever walk the galaxy, and though he rarely showed his talent, it came through now to reduce Cerberus to a forgotten memory.

Primus was almost to the top of the station where the Illusive Man's chambers resided when he was stopped by a trio of Cerberus soldiers. Unlike most of whom he'd met so far, these three did not attack him.

The soldier in front was dressed differently from anyone Primus had seen so far on the station. Instead of their normal heavy armor and goggled helmets (Cerberus soldiers looked remarkably similar to Tempestus Scions, mused Primus idly), this one wore a slimmer form of black armor. His hair was long and black, tumbling down to nearly his chin. Metal augmentations of some sort covered his eyes like a blindfold, and Primus could see the tips of other cybernetics on his forehead and jaw. Interesting.

From his back, the man drew a sword. Primus raised an eyebrow behind his helmet. The sword was rather small, unlike the huge chainswords or power blades Astares wielded in battle. He'd heard somewhere that close-quarters weapons were not used in this galaxy; apparently this man was the exception to the rule. Primus cocked his head as the man sneered at him.

"Well, well, well." Primus frowned. The unnamed man had the type of voice that was already getting on his nerves. It was simply annoying. "What do we have here?" The man stepped forward and gave Primus the sort of look one might five a particularly strange animal in the zoo. "What made you, I wonder? What war would require something like you to fight? What are you?" he asked again.

"What are you?" replied Primus. The man sneered again.

"I am Kai Leng. Now, I asked you a question. What are you?" Primus gave no response. He was intrigued where this conversation would go. So far, none of the Cerberus soldiers had bothered to talk, or even bother to beg for their lives. If they had surrendered, Primus was under orders to let them live. Unfortunately, none had.

Frustrated at Primus's lack of response, Kai Leng pointed his sword at Primus. The two other Cerberus soldiers remained behind him, silent and unmoving.

"Some sort of lab experiment, I'm sure," hissed Leng. "You're not a robot. I've seen enough experiments in my time." He shrugged. Leng managed to make even that simple gesture look contemptuous. "Subject Zero, that biotic bitch who escaped her chains. She should be back here, under our control, fighting you. I wonder what would happen in that fight?" Apparently, Leng didn't notice the temperature of the room start to drop. If he did, he ignored it. "Lawson, of course, with her perfect body and perfect attitude. Shepard, even. Brought back from the dead! Only to give it up for a Quarian." Leng spat in disgust. "Disgusting xeno-fu-"

"You asked what type of war needed people like me to fight it," interrupted Primus. Stopped in the middle of his tirade, Leng looked back up to Primus curiously, muscles alert, waiting for an attack. Primus simply smiled with dark satisfaction behind his helm. Leng was very… unpleasant. Fortunately, he had the power to punish unpleasant people in unpleasant ways.

"Yes. I did," agreed Leng with a dark chuckle.

"Let me show you, then." Primus's helmet lenses flashed electric blue as he reached a hand out.

And Kai Leng saw everything.

Terrible battles between daemons and men flashed before his eyes. Huge monsters, the likes of which Leng couldn't even come up with in his most feverish imaginations slaughtered humans by the billion. Brother betrayed brother, warped and twisted by dark promises of untold power. Planets burned. Trillions died in agony, screaming forever into a sea of souls. Battles between gods raged.

And Leng understood.

In the grim darkness of the far future, there was only war. To be a man in such times was to live amongst untold quadrillions. It was to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. There was no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

Kai Leng clawed at the cybernetics that covered his eyes, screaming in agony. The two other Cerberus soldiers backed away nervously. Grown human adults rarely screamed like that. Perhaps they might give a startled yelp or shout, but this was a scream of pure suffering. The only time one of the soldiers had heard anything like it was when a comrade had been burned alive. They stepped away from Leng, and looked up fearfully at Primus.

The Cerberus assassin dropped to the ground, still screaming his lungs hoarse, and curled into a shuddering ball. Blessedly, the screaming stopped. Leng simply lay on the floor, convulsing, oblivious to the world around him.

"What… what are you?" asked one of the soldiers, voice filled with fear. Primus stared at them.

"Run," he replied simply. The two soldiers, veterans of countless fights and hand-picked by Kai Leng and the Illusive Man didn't give it a second thought. As one, they dropped their weapons and bolted from the room.

Primus stepped forward and entered the room Leng and the two other Cerberus soldiers had been guarding. The interior was stark and clean, made of a sleek black plastic-like floor and walls. Huge windows covered the front, showing a breathtaking view of a burning sun. The orange-red glow of the nearby star illuminated the room, bathing it in warm light. In the center, the Illusive Man, clad in an impeccable black suit, stood from his chair.

"Ah, welcome," he greeted Primus, extending his hand in greeting. He flashed a careful, completely in-control smile. "I knew the Mechanicus would send someone. Now, I do realize that we had some misunderstandings, but I'd like to give a new start. I know that with our powers combined, we can work together to-"

Blam!

Primus turned and exited the room. Behind him, the Illusive Man's body slumped on the perfect plastic deck, still cooling. The back of his favorite chair was decorated with brains, and a messy bloody wash coated the black plastic floor. An unarmored man stood no chance against a bolter shell.

Primus nodded to himself, satisfied. A fitting and ingnonmous end to yet another enemy of his Master. He turned and exited the station the way he came. No one stopped him.

In time, more Mechanicus reinforcements would come aboard and take control of the station. The remaining soldiers had no desire to fight, and the scientists and technicians were not trained for combat. They surrendered Kronos Station to Cawl and the Mechanicus.

What they were not expecting was for Cawl to offer them all jobs. They would be receiving relatively the same pay and protection, plus some new bonuses, like advanced cybernetics, if they agreed to serve the Mechanicus. Cerberus was dead, its leader slain. Most of the scientists, hearing Cawl's words about the advancements the Mechanicus offered and their roles in helping humanity and the forge of Adas, agreed to serve him.

Thus, Cerberus became part of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Kronos Station was towed into position around Adas, and the scientists, soldiers, technicians, and other Cerberus personnel in it and throughout the galaxy now answered to Fabricator General Natrius. All in all, though Cawl privately, a very great benefit for only sending in Primus to do some dirty work. Things were going very well indeed.

oOo

There we have it! There's no codex: sorry. I hope you liked the suicide mission. I know I cut it off a bit abruptly after Primus saved Shepard, Garrus, and Tali, but my word count was rising quickly and I wanted to keep the chapter in the realm of readable. I hope you all enjoyed the suicide mission and Primus unleashing his full potential. There will be one more chapter, concerning what is happening on Adas. After that... sequel time! I thank all of you for your wonderful reviews, and, as always, appreciate any comments, criticisms, concerns, questions, and reviews! Keelah na'sal and Glory to the Machine God!