AN: The First Arc of this story had several overlapping themes, but one of them could be described as professionalism and duty above emotions and prejudice. Cortana and the Chief, the Normandy Crew and Shepard all adhered to this. It helped them unite against their mutual threat and it helped them learn to trust each other.

The Second Arc of this story could be described as having the exact opposite central theme. Regardless, this chapter finally features the long-awaited First Contact between the USNC and representatives from the Citadel Council. It is basically my take on how a realistic meeting between a paranoid, militant faction like the UNSC and the relatively peaceful Citadel Council would go.


Kite's Nest / Hara System / Khar'shan

The order was given with a heavy, but steeled heart. The ninth nuclear blast was visible even without sensor data magnifying the detonation. Its cleansing fire spread from the capital city of the Rolkan Islands all the way to the coastlines, annihilating the entire region.

Sterilizing the entire region.

Grand Admiral Tarkun Hoff closed his eyes. He believed that, at this point, he was the highest-ranking officer left in the Hegemony. The Overseers were gone. The future of the entire batarian race might well rest upon his shoulders.

The burden was almost more than he could bear.

But he would persevere. He had regained control over the Fleets, merged them into the enormous Capital Fleet that now formed a loose sphere around Khar'shan. For the past week, his people had been doing everything in their power to prevent this mysterious sickness from escaping the homeworld. There would be no more refugees coming from Khar'shan, no more evacuating soldiers or last-ditch escapes. Every single vessel that attempted to leave the homeworld would be destroyed.

Most of the times, those vessels had been completely consumed by the sickness when they attempted to leave. Sometimes, they weren't.

The burden on the Grand Admiral's shoulders grew heavier with every order he gave. Every nuclear detonation that scarred his beloved homeworld bought his species perhaps the better part of a day before another area was overrun. Many countries had fallen. Many more would fall in the future.

Even now, as he watched the nuclear fire consume what had once been a small paradise, hundreds more ships attempted to leave the planet. No less than three-hundred warships now formed a perimeter around the homeworld, tasked with placing WMD's, area denial and enforcing the quarantine. The remaining hundred or so vessels – forty-six Frigates, twenty-one Cruisers and twenty-nine Heavy Fighters – served as a rapid-response Flotilla, intercepting those vessels that attempted to FTL out of the system and annihilating infected wrecks when their scanners indicated that there were still lifeforms onboard.

The Grand Admiral tried not to think about how many thousands of craft the homeworld still had. Shuttles, civilian ships and fighters. Sooner or later, one would slip through. Their scientists had concluded that this rotting plague could infect other lifeforms, as well. What would happen if an infected shuttle found its way to Republics space? The Hierarchy? Their civilizations might well collapse too.

And that was unacceptable. He did not wish this calamity upon any star-faring nation, not even humanity. History would teach that the Batarian Hegemony did not unleash damnation upon the stars.

Two hours later, another bastion was compromised. Tens of thousands of infected lifeforms stormed their perimeter, all of them heading towards the momentary weakness in the outer defenses. They brandished firearms, explosives and improvised melee weapons to overwhelm the entrenched defenders.

That bastion concealed twenty-three thousand, nine hundred and seventy-six civilians.

"Any vessels on overwatch nine three eight by seven two zero, prepare another fission weapon for the Sevostavic Bastion," growled the Grand Admiral. "We will not let our people be consumed."

The sickness had no way to protect themselves against orbital bombardment. Within minutes, the fission weapon descended towards the fallen sanctuary, promising a swift and painless transition into salvation for those wretched souls below.

A communication burst from the ninth listening station caught Tarkun's attention. "Grand Admiral, there is a spatial anomaly within the following grid. These vessels just appeared out of nowhere!"

"On-screen," ordered the Grand Admiral. Though he never raised his voice, his subordinates moved as if he shocked them with a Neural Jolt. On his screen, a fleet composed of alien ships surged towards Khar'shan, none of them having designs he recognized.

And the Grand Admiral knew all vessels, Citadel or Terminus.

"Hail those ships, inform them that this area is quarantined," ordered Tarkun. He would have ordered his Capital Fleet to annihilate these trespassers, but two important factors kept him making that decision. The first was that he could not afford his ships to break off their sustained barrage on the infected regions, lest the quarantine break.

The second was that even the smallest alien ship was the size of a Dreadnaught, while the largest was the size of a Mass Relay. He did not want to antagonize these vessels, even though he outnumbered them ten-to-one.

Suddenly, the screen that was usually reserved for communicating with the Overseers – the one positioned in the very center of the displays – flared to life, displaying…Tarkun had no idea what it displayed. He felt a vague sense of nostalgia, like the memory of a dream that could not be recalled.

A figure clad in noble, blue-silver armour, several components of which floated around him like moons around a planet, appeared on the screen.

"All sentients, hear me and take heed," the figure spoke, his voice filled with authority. "Your grueling effort has born fruit. Grant your people rest, while we deal with the Flood."

Grand Admiral Tarkun had a thousand questions he wanted to ask. Who was this mysterious figure? What was this "Flood" he spoke of and why did emanate such an aura of dread and awe? All of them amounted to the single sentence that Tarkun quietly uttered, "Who are you?"

"I am the return of the Forerunners, the true Gods of this galaxy. Your ancestors would have bowed before me."

"Let them pass," Tarkun quietly ordered. "Let these vessel pass." To the enigmatic Forerunner on his screen, he merely implored, "Help us."

"Your prayers shall be answered," the entity replied. His ships accelerated towards Khar'shan while the Capital Fleet hastily got out of their way. These mighty alien warships took up positions above the infected regions and rained down death upon the sickness.

And the Grand Admiral could only watch as this self-proclaimed God cleansed the infected regions of his homeworld with shocking precision, sterilizing the plague with more effectiveness than any fission weapon could. Beams of crimson light plowed through the overrun countries, reducing the infected wasteland to smoldering glass.

Your prayers shall be answered…

Grand Admiral Tarkun Moff bowed before the batarians' new benefactor, as did the rest of his bridge crew.


14:46 Hours, May 4, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) / Autumn-Class heavy cruiser Pillar of Autumn II

The cavernous bridge of the Pillar of Autumn II was a flurry of activity as the ships spread out across the system, forming a protective formation above Jericho VII. Since the massive Autumn-Class cruiser was meant as a command and control vessel as well as a flagship, numerous bridge officers were busy coordinating the other warships that made up the newly recreated Fifth Fleet.

UNSC Naval Command took the First Contact with a new alien civilization very seriously, especially since the aliens had been rummaging around in UNSC space, sniffing through old derelicts. It was as blatant an incursion as it could get. Both parties involved should be grateful that there weren't more casualties.

"The "Citadel" ships are still holding their position," said Kintarō, the Autumn's AI. "New ships likely hold their own envoys. What should we do, boss?"

Fleet Admiral Joseph Harper glanced at the confident-looking AI, mulling over his next decision. Doctor Ruth Charet, the President of the Unified Earth Government, had personally put together a group of individuals representing the very best of humanity. Scientists, philosophers, generals and many other experts who would ensure that humanity would not be dragged into another war with another galactic civilization.

It was his duty to make sure that those ladies and gentlemen remained safe. "We will need to facilitate direct contact in one of our own vessels. Problem is, national security – "

"Would be compromised if one of those aliens tried to engage in espionage, I get it!" Kintarō interrupted him, his enthusiasm blinding him to the fact that he just interrupted Harper yet again. "So what if we – ah, sorry boss. You were saying?"

The Fleet Admiral let it slide. He had a feeling that everybody was going to have to depend on Kintarō one way or another in the coming hours. "National security will be compromised if the aliens prove to be better at cyber-warfare than you."

The golden-haired mountain of a man smiled underneath his sunglasses, and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Don't worry boss! I'll be able to fend those devils off long enough for our fleet to blow them to smithereens!"

In truth, Fleet Admiral Harper did not doubt that for a moment. Though he presented himself like a man with the mind of a third-grader, Kintarō was a Fourth-Generation smart AI. He could take the Fifth Fleet and have it dance circles around the alien fleet if it proved to be hostile. The previous encounter with Commander De Blanc proved that the aliens weren't as advanced as the Covenant was.

Eight Paris-Class Frigates, seven Stalwart-Class Frigates, eight Halbert-Class Destroyers and a massive Repair-and-Refit station would make the aliens think twice about trying any funny business. Swarms of Longsword Interceptors and Broadswords Strike Fighters patrolled the system on regular intervals, all of them contributing to the central message that the UNSC wanted the aliens to understand.

We own this system. If you get near without permission, we'll hurt you.

Harper absently tapped his fingers on his datapad, lost in thought. Enormous alien teleportation machines, a complete new alien civilization – aliens who somehow thought that they needed to show humans to humans…none of this made sense.

"We'll invite the alien representatives onboard the Autumn," decided Harper. He ignored Kintarō's worried expression. "That will let us bypass the necessity of sticking humanity's most important envoys on a little ship that can explode when looked at funny. We've got two-hundred veteran ODST's packed around the conference room just in case, as well as…well, you get the picture."

"A picture clad in MJOLNIR armour, yes," said Kintarō, still looking uneasy. He glanced around, as if his sensors couldn't tell him that the rest of the crew was too busy to hear him, then leant in close and whispered, "You're not supposed to know about her presence, boss!"

Harper snorted. "Anyone who steps onboard this ship will answer to me. Spartan black operator or not."

"Just pretend she's a normal II and everything will be fine!" Finished the AI. On a louder, more natural tone he yelled, "Got activity from the Gate! Alien reinforcements imminent!"

Kintarō aimed a long-range camera array at the Gate and a close-up snapped into focus. Just like Commander De Blanc said, the gyroscope in the center of the spun faster and faster, until the entire device seemed to pulsate with hue of blue energy, after which an entire alien fleet appeared in the middle of the asteroid field.

"Uh-oh," muttered the AI.

"All hands, battlestations!" Yelled Harper. A rush of adrenaline flooded his systems and he immediately started barking orders. "Recall our fighters to patrol route Omega. Activate our point-defense systems and arm Archer missile pods A1 through A9!"

"On it boss!" Replied Kintarō, grinning with savage delight as he armed the heavy cruiser's offensive systems. "Packages for hostile alien contact away, the Fifth Fleet is assuming a defensive position!"

"We'll hold our fire until they attack," continued Harper. He reached out into the holographic overlay of the system and "grabbed" the location of the alien Fleet, magnifying it to take a closer look.

Something must have spooked them. Three massive warships just emerged from the Gate, each one escorted by four smaller ships and five really small ones. Nine-hundred meters, four-hundred and about a hundred meters respectively. Two of those enormous ships were elongated, while he third one looked more like an enormous eye with a hole in the middle. Adding to the already-present warships, the aliens now had thirty-eight ships in the system.

Even odds, Harper would say.


Onboard Turian Hierarchy Cruiser Palavan's Grace

Section Zero.

The arrival of the other representatives was…disturbing, to say the least. Their presence caused quite a stir within this "United Nations Space Command" humanity. It was like poking a group of krogan by dropping a bottle of ryncol in their midst. Except every krogan was armed with a nuclear weapon and the ryncol was more krogan.

The point was, General Oraka felt mildly disturbed. He silently prayed that nobody would be foolish enough to open fire as the new ships got into position. His own crew was calm and composed, but that did not go for the other vessels.

Oh, he understood the underlying thought alright. The UNSC-humanity showed that they were not to be trifled with in a show of force. Now, the newly-arrived representatives of the four Council species showed up with their answer to that message. They understood the UNSC's desire to be respected, but would not cave in to threats of violence themselves.

How ironic that the only representative not traveling per Dreadnaught was the turian one. General Oraka had been informed that he would soon be accompanied by the salarian dalatrass Esheel, the asari Matriarch Irissa and a human diplomat called Dominic Osoba, the only individual whom Oraka did not know.

Oraka wasn't certain if those representatives were…flexible enough to adapt to this situation. But they had little time; the news of another alien civilization had already been leaked to the extranet. Every government was trying to plug the holes in its own way, but they had perhaps a couple of days left before the media got a hold of this information. Time was of the essence here.

When the UNSC ships finished getting into their new formation, their flagship transmitted another message to the assorted Citadel ships.

Positive that they were beyond paranoid assumptions of viruses and cyber-warfare now, General Oraka opened the file, finding another video contained within.

"Open a communication link to the other representatives," he ordered one of his junior officers. "And synchronize the channels. There will be no private conversations."

It took the other diplomats a couple of minutes to answer his call. No doubt they had important business to attend to on their own ends. But one by one, their portraits appeared in a holographic overlay next to the galaxy map where Oraka stood. He tapped in a string of commands, then orientated the portraits in front of him, so that he didn't have to keep bowing down if the wanted to converse with his colleagues.

"Greetings, my fellow diplomats," he began. "I am General Septimus Oraka, representing the turian Hierarchy."

It was a formality at this point, but he deemed it important that the chosen diplomats had some interaction before they actually communicated with the UNSC.

"Hello, Septimus," the Matriarch said, politely inclining her head. "I am Matriarch Irissa, representing the Asari Republics."

"It is nice to meet you, General Oraka," said the human. He was a well-dressed middle-aged male, with a dark skin complexion and a serious expression. "I am Dominic Osoba, You may call me Dominic. I represent the Systems Alliance."

"And you may call me Septimus," Oraka replied, pleased that the human diplomat showed him that courtesy. He had been expecting another Udina…

"Dalatrass Esheel, of the Salarian Union," the dalatrass coldly said. "I assume you have some business, General?"

"I do. I will go ahead and assume that the three of you have received the same video from the UNSC as well?"

"We did. We already watched and analyzed it," replied the dalatrass without even blinking.

Oraka bit back a sigh. Of course. "I was going to suggest we watch it together and decide on our next course of action, to prevent any…rash decisions."

"That sounds reasonable to me," said Dominic. "Matriarch?"

"Yes, an apt suggestion. I have the footage right here."

"I will wait until the three of you have caught up," said the dalatrass.

"That is agreeable," replied Oraka. With that, he played the video file.

It was a three-dimensional animation, showing the alien flagship and the Citadel fleet. It showed a single shuttle leaving the three Dreadnaughts, move to the alien flagship and dock there. The animation replayed once, before showing the same shuttle leaving from the Dreadnaughts and travelling to one of the other alien warships instead. In that animation, the shuttle exploded violently.

Oraka scoffed. Barbarous. Although, if he looked at the destroyed garden world, he could understand their reservations. "I assume that the flagship carries their own representatives," he mused.

"The UNSC-humans must not have realized that we can translate their language," Dominic said, appearing completely unfazed at the sight of the promised violence.

"I just have they are amenable to peace," said the Matriarch.

"It could be a trap," said the dalatrass. "An attempt to capture us, hold us for ransom."

Irissa shook her head. "I doubt that an civilization who suffered the loss of an entire planet would be so petty. It would be the most disastrous attempt at a First Contact since the Rachni."

"We are, ultimately, expendable," said Oraka. "Even if such an event were to take place, the Council would not negotiate."

"Yes, such a move would meant the end of negotiations," added Dominic. "I think they want to initiate further contact. After all, this has to be their diplomatic fleet."

"These next few moments will be critical to our future," said Oraka. "We must decide on an answer, and it must be a swift one at that."

"I do not like this. It feels like we are meeting under their conditions, not ours," the dalatrass bluntly said. "Our safety would hinge on their decisions. Their whims."

Oraka agreed with her. Unfamiliar territory, unfamiliar humans…there would be no grand entrance, no subtle influencing before the actual diplomats arrived. He almost admired the UNSC for that decision. "Is that not our way as well, when meeting new civilizations? Would we have acted any different? I say we prepare our guards and our shuttles."

As he expected, the asari and salarian representative protested his "brash" and "sudden" decision. However, Dominic took Oraka's side, claiming that pointedly ignoring the UNSC's request would kill the negotiations.

"I say we fill our shuttles with flags, clothes and everything else we can stick our nation's symbols on and take the leap," he explained.

With a two-for, two-against front forming around a matter that needed to be decided upon as fast as possible, those arguing for taking action were in an advantage. Irissa and Esheel knew this.

Eventually, the decision was made. The four representatives would be meeting each other within the alien vessel.

General Oraka would never admit it to his subordinates, but he hadn't felt this excited in years.


15:33 Hours, May 4, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) / Autumn-Class heavy cruiser Pillar of Autumn II

"Ladies and gentlemen, the alien vessels are four minutes and fifty-nine seconds away!" Kintarō excitedly announced. "We're about to make history!"

Fleet Admiral Harper could not bring to join the Artificial Intelligence in his excitement. This day would mark the first time this "Citadel" species would shake hands with humanity…and their meeting would take place in the hangar bay of a heavily-armed warship, surrounded by tanks and gunships.

What would the aliens think of them? That they were a barbarous, violent species, to meet them in a place surrounded by machines of war? The crew had done their best to clean the hangar bay up as much as they could, draping flags and other large pieces of fabric over the equipment to make the newcomers feel more welcome, but there wasn't much that they could do.

Just another message that they needed to communicate…

The diplomats were readying themselves in the back of the hangar bay, going over things like their script, their nonverbal communication and their general positioning.

"Just remember your arm-positioning," said Melody Azikiwe, the woman who would be leading the conversation. "Sudden movements might aggravate them."

"I hope that these guys became a spacefaring civilization without violently murdering alien envoys because their nonverbal communications were a bit too sudden," replied Jens Forsburg, the man who would back her up and assist whenever possible.

"Do you want to put that to the test?"

"I'll think about it. Anything else to download in the meantime?"

Melody shook her head. "Kintarō will update our Interfaces on the fly. I doubt you'll even feel it."

"I hope not. I'll get back to the script, look it over one more time."

A direct contrast to the tension and pressure that the diplomats seemed to be feeling, was the apparent leisure of the Orbital Drop Shock Trooper squads positioned around the hangar bay.

"I'll take that bet," Harper overheard a Corporal say to his comrade. "Ain't no alien who doesn't want to commit casual genocide. Don't know why we even bother."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, would you Jones?" Said their Sergeant. "We're about to hit negotiations and you're ruining the fucking mood!"

"The mood? Sarge, we're putting aliens inside one of the most important warships humanity has left! If anyone is ruining the mood, it's going to be them!"

"You're going to follow procedure whether you like it or not! You're going to sit there, smiling, even if those blue women start shooting your ass! Is that clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

It was like that all around the hangar. The Autumn's Complement was experiencing the full spectrum of the human emotion complex, but the most prevalent one had to be skepticism, closely followed by a thinly-veiled hostility. The last time and of these men and women had seen an alien up close, it had been trying to violently murder them. No figure of speech there; the Battle of Earth saw a lot of grisly casualties. If Harper were to take a guess, the one thing that everybody had in common was a burning hatred of anything not human.

"One minute boss!" Kintarō informed the Fleet Admiral.

Harper straightened. Naval Command had been very specific in their orders; he was to act as the face of humanity until all representatives could start negotiating within the Officers Club, which had been cleaned up and repurposed as a conference room.

The future of humanity might very well hinge on his decisions. "Open the hangar bay doors."

The moment he finished the order, the heavy metal doors slid open, revealing the dark void beyond. Harper knew that the energy barriers prevented the atmosphere from exploding outwards, but after the long and exhausting campaign against the Covenant above Earth, the normally awe-inspiring sight of space merely filled him with a weary dread.

Not that the veteran ODST's flanking him would ever see even as much as a hint of that dread. This ship was his. In here, he reigned supreme.

"Positions!" He yelled.

For several seconds after he spoke, the hangar bay was a beehive of activity. ODST's and civilians alike hurried to get to their assigned location. Slowly, the alien vessels became visible. There were four of them, each one with a distinct, unique design. One had a sleek, elegant design, while another looked a lot more rugged, with sharp edges. They were all of the same size however; about as large as a Longsword Interceptor.

They're willing to go this far. War is out of the question, Harper thought. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're about to make history. Stick to protocol. If we all pull through, humanity might actually find some friends among the stars."


Onboard alien flagship

Dominic Osoba felt a faint shudder run through his shuttle as it passed through the nearly-invisible containment field that separated the huge hangar bay from the cold embrace of space. He heard the landing gear deploy, and a moment later the pilot declared that they made it.

In unison, Sergeants Laura and Khalash, the two N7 soldiers who served as Dominic's guards, unstrapped themselves and stood up from their seats.

Dominic undid his straps and stood as well. For a moment, he wondered what good two crack soldiers would be in in the very center of a hostile Dreadnaught manned by hundreds, if not thousands of enemy soldiers, but he quickly banished that line of thinking. He needed to stay positive, for humanity's sake.

Although right about now, he had to wonder whose humanity he had to be worried about.

The shuttle bay doors opened, and Dominic felt one final stab of panic before a serene calmness made itself the master of his emotions. This was his job, his profession. He had studied rigorously for days, leading up to this moment. He knew that he, along with his comrades, was ultimately expendable. Should the worst come to pass, the Systems Alliance would know of their new adversary.

Dominic slowly walked down the ramp, closely followed by Laura and Khalash, taking in his first impressions of the "alien" spaceship. This hangar bay was large, filled with what were obviously machines of war, though most of them were decorated with banners and flags. The hangar was also littered with soldiers and crewmembers, all of them decidedly human.

A handful of them were clothed differently than the others. They were clad in white uniforms, wore ornamented headwear and proudly carried what looked like military decoration on their chests. Judging by their almost regal appearance, their aura of authority and their position – the very center of the hangar and the closest to the diplomatic shuttles – these would be the UNSC's representatives. Behind them hung the largest of banners, an artistic rendition of a large avian with its wings extended upwards, sitting upon a spherical shape with the words UNSC going across.

Again, Dominic had to remind himself that this was not a hoax. Too many lives hung in the balance for someone to mess around at this point. This UNSC has proven to be quite willing to kill.

The three representatives standing opposite of Dominic stood tall and straight, their hands clasped behind their backs. Their expression were completely neutral.

It occurred to the Systems Alliance envoy that he might have to forego everything he knew about the human psyche when it came to these people. After all, he had no clue where they came from, or how they even came to be. For all he knew these people were completely and utterly alien in their thought processes.

The other representatives stopped towards these three humans as well, they too flanked by their guards. There was a tense moment where everybody stared at each other, suspicious and wary. Dominic, as the sole human representative of the Citadel as a whole, felt like it was his responsibility to cross the bridges, more so than usual.

When Dominic managed to get over his initial shock at seeing human aliens, he slowly brought his hand to his chest and said, "Dominic. Human." He pointed at his guards, who managed to keep their unease hidden behind a mask of impassiveness. "Laura, human. Khalash. Human."

The UNSC representative blinked, his gaze briefly settling on General Oraka, Matriarch Irissa and finally dalatrass Esheel, before returning to Dominic. Then, he imitated Dominic's gesture and replied, "Joseph. Human." He pointed at the woman standing to his left. "Melody, human." The man to his right. "Jens, human."

More words he could understand. His translator didn't seem to struggle with what should effectively a completely foreign language. Feeling bolstered by the success, Dominic nodded, convinced that they would be able to continue on like this. He glanced at the Matriarch, then gestured at her.

Irissa understood his meaning. She took a small step forwards, then introduced herself and the two Commandoes flanking her as well. Given name first, species name next. Oraka followed suit, after which Esheel introduced herself and her escort as well.

"Joseph" furrowed his eyebrows when the other representatives introduced themselves. It was only for a moment, and a subtle moment at that, but Dominic saw it nonetheless. Several of the soldiers who watched the contact happen visibly exchanged looks with each other, their expressions concealed behind their dark visors.

This would be a very good moment for an asari meld. Dominic closely watched the UNSC representatives as the woman, "Melody", leant closer to "Joseph" and muttered, "I think I understood that. I think they call themselves human as well."

Dominic could not prevent a small gasp from escaping past his lips. They understood him? This was unprecedented. If they understood what he told them about him being a human, and he understood them discussing that in detail…what on Earth were they doing communicating like they were primitives?

"I know, it's strange," replied Joseph. "That Interface works wonders."

"Excuse me," Dominic said, taking a sink-or-swim decision that would hopefully make things less awkward for both "species". "I believe I might have understood you."

"Me too," Laura quietly chimed in.

"As did I," added Khalash.

The UNSC representatives snapped to attention. Their expressions changed from impassive to shocked, suspicious even. Joseph raised an eyebrow, then said, "You speak our language?"

They understand us. "And you speak mine," replied Dominic, his heart racing. "This is a monumental discovery. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Dominic Osaba, representative of the Systems Alliance, the official government of my people."

"Your people," repeated Joseph. A dark look seemed to cross his features, before he replied, "I am Fleet Admiral Joseph Harper, representative of the United Nations Space Command, the military branch of my people."

Fleet Admiral, Dominic thought. A man with a rank even higher than Admiral Hackett. How would he address this man? What manner of speaking would show him the respect he undoubtedly required?

"And I am Melody Azikiwe," said the woman. She smiled, but the light of her smile never reached her eyes. "Official diplomat of the Unified Earth Government, the civilian government that administrates our homeworld and her colonies."

"Jens Forsburg," the male diplomat hastily said. "Also an official diplomat of the Unified Earth Government."

Their mention of Earth staggered Dominic. Their language was similar enough to be translated, their homeworld was Earth…was he communicating with some bizarre splinter faction that disappeared centuries ago?

No, that did not make a lick of sense. What was going on here?

"Dominic," Irissa quietly said. "What is going on? They can understand you?"

The Fleet Admiral glances at the Matriarch. "Regrettably, I do not understand...Irisa, was it?"

"Matriarch Irissa," Dominic quietly replied, shaken by the revelation. The UNSC could translate the human language. They could not translate the asari language. It was only logical to assume that they could not translate the salarian or turian language spoken here either. This was…a puzzling situation.

"He does not understand me?" Said the Matriarch. "General, dalatrass, could you perhaps introduce yourself with more detail?"

After glancing at her with unease, the dalatrass did as she was asked. Shortly after, General Oraka did the same.

But it was as Dominic suspected. The UNSC understood the Systems Alliance…and only the Systems Alliance.

Which put him in a position of power he did not feel comfortable in. "Please, can I ask, how fully do you understand me? Because I fully understand you."

"I understand you enough to communicate," the Fleet Admiral slowly replied, as if carefully mulling over each word he uttered.

Osaba glanced at his colleagues, uneasy about this whole situation.

"We understand, Dominic," Oraka kindly said. "Do your thing."

Dominic nodded, although he did not understand why the Fleet Admiral would not want to go into more detail about something as important as their language. "Then I will speak for my fellow representatives when I say that the Citadel Council only wishes for peace."

"Sir, that is a relief to hear. Citadel Council…" Fleet Admiral Harper slowly repeated. "Your overall governing body?"

"Yes, the Citadel Council represents all civilizations within its galactic community," Dominic said, eager to explain that there truly was no need for conflict. "But it does not rule them. It is difficult to explain without going to too much depth."

"That is good to know," replied the Fleet Admiral. "Our people are very willing to discuss peace. If you and your colleagues – " - he met the gazes of the other representatives – "- would follow me, we have prepared a room where we can discuss these matters in earnest."

In truth, Dominic had been eager to leave this hangar bay and begin the politics in earnest. Something about the hard, lingering stares of the soldiers surrounding them was…off-putting, to say the least.

"That is agreeable," said Oraka. "We can lock the shuttles down behind us, just to be certain."

The decision was easily made. Before soon, three four representatives followed sedately behind the UNSC trio, making their way through the cavernous hangar bay and towards what looked like a massive elevator.

"We would like to begin the official meeting by discussing the initial conflict between our people in this system," said Melody. "The UNSC has a standing policy of destroying any unauthorized ships in this system, after what took place here. The Commander of that battlegroup was acting according to our protocol. And, while we stand behind her decision, we regret that so many lives were lost. We are willing to offer reasonable reparations to the next of kin."

Dominic considered her words. He did not believe that this Melody was a soldier, but her tone was hard and her expression devoid of emotion. Every human in this ship had such a hardened exterior that he found it difficult to understand them. He had to fall back on his orders here. "My superiors understand now that this system is restricted. We also understand that a major tragedy must have taken place here."

The devastated planet and its enormous debris field. Yet another piece of evidence that this meeting couldn't be fake.

"That's one way of putting it," said the other diplomat, Jens. "There are probably more bodies within that debris field than we have people staffing this Fleet."

Dominic detected a hint of venom in Jens' voice. It was fortunate, then, that the conclusions his superiors had drawn would probably not clash with the UNSC's interests. He gave his reply, even as he felt the stares of Oraka, Irissa and Esheel burning in his back. "Because the Citadel Council recognizes how sensitive a graveyard of this scale must be to the UNSC, they have decided that nobody is to blame for this unfortunate incident."

"That is a relief to hear," replied Melody. As she said that, the elevator doors opened, delivering them into a series of tight, metal corridors. Dominic toured multiple warships in the course of his career, but this was the first time he visited a ship that felt so…grim.

"Dominic, could you ask the Fleet Admiral what happened to this system?" Matriarch Irissa quietly asked. "Specifically, their planet?"

"Yes, I would like to know that as well," General Oraka joined in. "I have a feeling that it will be an exceedingly important subject during these negotiations."

"Of course, General, Matriarch," replied Dominic. "My colleagues, as well as myself, were wondering what transpired in this system. Given that its unfortunate past was the cause of the initial hostilities, as well as the lives lost, we feel this would be important for us to know."

Melody and Jens seemed to glance at the Fleet Admiral, despite them being the official representatives of their humanity's government.

Even stranger, the Admiral gave an almost imperceptible nod, before replying himself. "That is a conversation best saved for when we reach our conference room. Suffice to say, I agree that the…Citadel Council would benefit from this information."

As they continued towards the diplomacy room, they encountered small groups of soldiers on patrol. They snapped to attention and saluted the Fleet Admiral as he passed through, but some of those soldiers looked too tense for a meeting like this. Dominic saw it in their stares, which seemed to be directed specifically at the alien representatives.

He was starting to piece together what happened in this system.

Eventually they made it to the conference room. It was different from the rest of the ship, in a nice way. It was decorated, for one. The brown-coloured walls were recently polished and furnished with paintings and portraits of various humans, worlds and landscapes. One of the paintings portrayed a strange, armour-clad figure, holding a heavy rifle as he stared off into the distance. He appeared different from the other humans; much sturdier, almost alien in its appearance. The background was a blue sky, which slowly transitioned into a golden hue as if the very land was on fire.

Despite the conference room offering more sights, Dominic stopped in front of the painting, captivated. There was a nobility in this armour-clad individual, an almost regal air that he had come to associate with Matriarchs.

Dominic turned around to ask who this person was, only to see dalatrass Esheel glaring daggers at the painting. He supposed she was trying to discern what type of armour it was, as it appeared much larger than anything the Alliance had ever fielded.

He tried to ignore his gut, which was telling him the dalatrass looked more upset than curious.

Their guards followed them inside, as well as a team of those black-clad, helmeted soldiers. They closed the doors behind them.

The four Citadel representatives, as well as those three of the USNC, sat down around a heavy, wooden table.

"I will be honest here," Melody said as soon as everybody was seated. "We do not trust you. Perhaps, with time, we will. As it stands now, our people have endured too much suffering, shed too much blood, to ever look at an alien lifeform and feel anything but hatred. "

Irissa nodded gravely, seemingly understanding what Melody meant. Esheel glanced at her, her expression inscrutable. Oraka merely looked at the UNSC representative, waiting for her to continue.

Dominic did not know how to respond to that. That statement explained everything he saw, everything he felt as he travelled along this ship. Luckily, Irissa helped him out.

"Could you relay my words?" She asked. "We do not know what she is speaking of, but we can guarantee that our words of peace are sincere. The Citadel Council is largest power in the galaxy and it protects and safeguards those who associate themselves with them. Our community exists out of many different species, spread among more than a thousand worlds."

As Dominic relayed her words, which should by all means have soothed the UNSC's concerns, their representatives seemed to grow even more grim and tense.

"This Citadel Council, does it claim control over the systems it controls?" Asked the Fleet Admiral.

"I would not put it that way," replied Dominic. "The Council has no power over the independent governments of other species, though their decisions do carry great weight throughout the galaxy. We all have a vested interest in cooperation and peace."

He paused to take a breath, and Jens replied before he could continue. "What exactly do you hope to gain from this meeting?"

Though there was no hostility in the man's voice, Dominic could not help but feel like he was being judged.

"All we wish is peace," said Oraka. "We will not deny that your people would be a welcome addition to the Council, but our foremost concern is stopping the loss of more lives."

Dominic, again, relayed the words of his colleague, and the two civilian diplomats exchanged a look.

"We have interest in peace as well," said Melody. "We are tired of war. However, that exhaustion is two-fold. It means we do not desire more war, but it also means that, should the worst come to pass, the UNSC would not hesitate to finish that war as soon as possible. Throughout the years, we were forced to reach for tactics and maneuvers that we ourselves deemed to be crimes against life. Throughout the years, those crimes against life became a necessity for our survival."

"Crimes against life?" Asked Oraka, his tone neutral and calm.

"The specific details of what we were forced to do in order to survive would sour this conversation," the Fleet Admiral said when the two diplomats didn't respond. "And now that we can conclude both sides yearn for peace, I feel like going into those specifics would be in bad taste."

While Oraka nodded in apparent understanding, Esheel said, "This system, then. What happened here? What caused that debris field?"

As the Systems Alliance envoy translated for his colleagues, the Fleet Admiral turned to address the dalatrass. "What you see here in this system is the price our humanity paid for defeat. Twenty years ago, the enemy attacked our colony here. After three long years of struggle, we lost. The enemy destroyed the world, along with the people we could not evacuate in time. Hundreds of thousands of people died back then." He paused, letting his words sink in. "That is the legacy our enemy left in this system, until your people arrived here."

Dominic felt sick. What kind of enemy had the firepower to destroy an entire planet? Such a senseless loss of life, a barbarous deed! To destroy a perfectly habitable world, along with the people who called that world their home? He had no words for that.

Irissa appeared stricken by the explanation, but she recovered faster than the others. "I see," she said. "That is…a horrible loss. Has this happened before? After?"

"Yes," the Fleet Admiral simply said. "Let me put it this way; if you know of any worlds that aren't settled yet, we'd love a couple to replace our losses. Our enemy was a collection of alien species – much like yours, in all honesty – which attacked us almost thirty years ago. Our humanity was forced on the defense almost on day one. We suffered…tremendous losses, each and every time we did battle."

"That war has been etched into our hearts, into our very culture," added Melody. "The scars are fresh, hence our…trepidation in dealing with other aliens."

A heavy silence fell. Dominic knew why the Fleet Admiral had not disclosed any solid numbers; he didn't want to make the UNSC appear too strong or too weak. That meant the casualties were either light, or extreme. Dominic did not feel like these people were dishonest, as the devastated colony could not be faked. And opening fire on unidentified aliens who might be strong enough to crush your military in one swoop wasn't a smart thing to do, unless you were desperate or traumatized enough to judge it an acceptable risk.

He believed Harper. He believed that the UNSC lost more than any one member-species of the Citadel could understand.

"This collection of alien species is troubling," Oraka eventually said, breaking the silence. "As far as the Hierarchy is aware, we have never encountered a civilization powerful enough to destroy planets without just bombing it with asteroids."

Still shaken by what he heard, Dominic translated for his turian colleague, with some minor changes to make it sound less…turian.

The Fleet Admiral leant backwards in his chair. "Well, they're called the Covenant. From what we understood, they were big. Likely as big as your Citadel community."

"Let us…let us clear this matter up, somewhat," Esheel said with a small voice. "With your permission, I would like to display a map of our galaxy."

When Dominic relayed her words, the UNSC soldiers seemed to grew even more alert, which in turn caused the Citadel soldiers to tense up.

Slowly, the Fleet Admiral said, "Of course. Go ahead."

It was very likely that the dalatrass was aware that she was no in the gunsights of an entire squad of heavily-armed, war-weary veterans with an aversion for aliens, as she reached for her omni-tool in slow, deliberate motions.

"My omni-tool," she calmly explained. A multi-purpose diagnostic and manufacturing tool, as well as a computer."

Almost breathlessly, Dominic translated for her as he watched her type in the commands necessary to conjure up the galaxy map. One nervous muscle spasm and this entire meeting would turn into a bloodbath. Thank the heavens for steady salarian nerves, he supposed.

A holographic display of the galaxy appeared above the table. When nobody opened fire, Esheel smiled. "This is the current division of the galaxy." One by one, the regions of space lit up as she named them. "Inner Council space. Outer Council space. The Systems Alliance. The Attican Traverse and the Terminus Systems. This region of space, about fifteen percent of the galaxy, is where we found your people. Section Zero, we call it."

She spoke slowly and clearly, so that Dominic had an easier time keeping up with her.

"We have neither encountered the Covenant nor the UNSC," continued the dalatrass. "But space is big, and we have explored less than a percent of the galaxy. We found a Relay leading into your territory. Hence the exploration team."

"I am sorry, a Relay?" Said Jens, shaking his head.

"Did you notice the structure within the asteroid field?" Said Dominic. "It was dormant, only to be activated from the other end. They form a network throughout the galaxy and allows for almost instantaneous travel across the galaxy."

"The Mass Relays, as well as the space station the Council is based, were built by an ancient species called the Protheans," continued Irissa. "They were unrivaled masters of the mass effect."

"The…mass effect?" repeated the Fleet Admiral.

"Yes, the…did your people never discover the Prothean ruins?" Irissa said, sounding somewhat surprised, though she kept her emotions concealed behind a mask of professional neutrality. "The mass effect, as based on the material known as Element Zero, is what powers all of our modern societies. It is the only way we can travel faster than light and settle the stars."

"What does this Element Zero do? Perhaps we encountered it, but gave it a different name."

"I doubt it," said Esheel. "Upon subjection to an electrical current, Element Zero releases a form of energy that influences matter. That energy can further be manipulated to lower or raise the mass objects within its field. That is the mass effect."

"No, we have never encountered such a material before," replied the Fleet Admiral. "Our faster-than-light travel works on an entirely different base.

"Yes, we noticed," said Esheel, picking up the pace as she continued speaking. "I hypothesized that your people used some form of dimensional breach, an inter-dimensional transition that – "

"What I would like to know," Oraka interjected, sparing Dominic from having to translate all that, "is how your people never encountered Element Zero before. It's not common, not by any means, but it can be found all across the galaxy. It is central to all our advanced technology."

The Fleet Admiral shook his head. "I have no idea. Our scientists would be very eager to find out why. We have travelled thousands of light-years and held many worlds. In truth, there is a subject that intrigues me more than any advanced alien material does." His eyes met Dominic's. "You. Your humanity. The Systems Alliance. "

Dominic expected this to occur sometime during their conversation, and so had his superiors. He had been told to act like the UNSC was genuine. Not a splinter-faction of the Systems Alliance, not some lost colony and certainly not a hoax or a mistake.

It only occurred to him now how completely insufficient his orders were. "I have no idea. Our humanity originated on Earth, on the complete other end of the galaxy from your homeworld…I presume, also Earth."

"But you have never been at war," the Fleet Admiral quietly said.

Dominic softly shook his head. "No. Our First Contact was with the turians – " he gestured at Oraka – "and it only resulted in brief conflict, with six hundred casualties on our side and slightly more casualties on the turian side. We never discovered anything that could suggest the existence of two humanities, let alone two humanities sharing the same language and name of homeworld."

"I believe I might be able to explain that," an enthusiastic voice exclaimed. The image of a bare-chested, mountain of a man with gilded hair and purple sunglasses emerged atop the table, obviously projected from hidden holographic projectors. He was barely taller than Dominic's forearm, but just looking at his chiseled appearance made the Systems Alliance envoy want to start exercising again.

The Fleet Admiral appeared somewhat perturbed at the tiny man's sudden appearance. "What do you mean?"

"It is obvious that this humanity has a precursor species. We've had signs of a precursor species ourselves. Maybe they transported small populations of humans across the galaxy, and left enough trails of evidence for the secondary population to name their people Earth. Even language can be artificially stimulated with the right cultural influence."

"An interesting theory," replied Esheel, glancing at the hologram appraisingly. "And you are?"

"That is Kintarō," this ship's Artificial Intelligence," replied the Fleet Admiral.

Those words had as much of an impact as the revelation of the Covenant. Oraka tensed up, leaning backwards in his chair as far as he could. Esheel's eyes grew large and wide, and she stared at the AI's holograph like it was a bomb about to explode.

"Ehm…that is…ehm…" Irissa nervously stuttered, no doubt trying to find a way to convey their incredible unease.

The UNSC representatives didn't miss that. "Is something wrong?" Asked Melody.

Oraka kicked Dominic underneath the table.

The human envoy nervously swallowed. "We…err…that is to say…yes, we, are apprehensive about using Artificial Intelligences. Just like your experience with aliens is…profoundly negative, our experience with Artificial Intelligences is…profoundly negative. In fact, one of the rules the Citadel members must absolutely adhere to at all times is the complete abolishment of AI's, as well as all outlawing of AI research and development. One of the AI species that roams the aforementioned Terminus Systems wiped out their creators, and actively target and destroy any organic vessel that they encounter."

"Oh. Ehm. Well, in that case," the AI sputtered, before his hologram dissipated.

The Fleet Admiral scowled. "I agree that an AI can be dangerous, but so can people. I can assure you that our AI's are trusted allies. In fact, our AI's have played a vital role in the Human-Covenant war, ensuring our survival. They are our mentors, our friends. Some would go as far as to say that they are our children. Hell, some have even fallen in love with humans, or the other way around. An attack on them will be treated as an attack on any other human citizen."

Dominic was afraid of that. There was no gentler way to say it, but the Citadel Council loathed AI's. And now that the Fleet Admiral spoke, for the very first time since negotiations began, with passion n his voice, he feared that they insulted him, and by extension, the UNSC.

"I propose we change the subject for now," said Oraka, much to Dominic's relief. "This Covenant. You refer to your war in the past term. Is the war over? If so, how did it end?"

When Dominic relayed the General's words, the Fleet Admiral's scowl seemed to lighten up somewhat. "The war is over, yes. The penultimate year of the war was…hectic, chaotic and extremely complicated. Our immediate survival is no longer threatened by the Covenant," he then slowly added.

The insinuation was obvious. The Covenant was no longer a risk, but now that the Citadel Council knew about the UNSC… "We wish to negotiate peace, and nothing less than that. We are even prepared to offer gifts, both as a compensation for trespassing on a mass graveyard, as well as a sign of good will."

"Our terms of peace are simple," said the Fleet Admiral. "No Citadel species will cross into our borders without permission. Our policy regarding trespassing ships is simple. We shoot first, maybe ask questions later. But if you verify that you belong in our systems, you will be treated as guests. Closely-monitored guests, that is."

"This is acceptable to the Hierarchy," Oraka told Dominic.

"As is it for the Republics. Esheel?"

"Fine," replied the salarian. "We can agree to this. Mister Dominic, please name the Council's terms."

"We agree to abide by these terms, on our own conditions," said Dominic. "For the sake of all our wellbeing, the Citadel Council would ask the UNSC not to open any dormant Relays until you are completely certain of what lies on the other side."

"Seems like the Citadel Council doesn't control as much of its territory as it would hope. Are there hostile nations we need to be aware of?" Said Jens.

"Apart from pirate and mercenary groups, the activation of dormant Relays might lead to the UNSC stumbling upon things that we are not aware of, which might endanger your people," replied Oraka. "I would ask the location of any activated Relays, but something tells me there are none."

When Dominic translated that, the Fleet Admiral locked eyes with the General. "That is correct, General. Our own method of FTL does not require the Relay network, and it has served us well. We agree to your terms; we will not activate any dormant Relays without verifying the other end."

"Thank you, Fleet Admiral," Oraka said, his tone sincere. "I can see that your people and mine have much in common. We look forward to helping you rebuild, to renew your trust in other species."

"Thank you, General," the Fleet Admiral replied after Dominic repeated what he said. "Humanity has very few friends in this galaxy. We have stood alone against the Covenant for decades. The thought that we might soon have a steadfast ally would bolster my people. If we are lucky, it might even bypass our fear and hatred of aliens. But until that happens, many of my people would not feel comfortable with aliens in our borders."

"I understand that your people are still recovering from the war?" Dominic suddenly said, an idea forming within his thoughts. "That you need to rebuild, economically and industrially?"

"Within reason and capacity, yes," the Fleet Admiral asked, suspicion creeping into his tone.

"We would benefit from welcoming the UNSC into the galactic community," explained Dominic. "In return, the UNSC would benefit from joining our community, because it would mean substantial boons to your recovery effort."

"Hmm…while I cannot deny that the idea of another humanity might have a positive effect on our civilization, I also cannot deny that a significant portion of our population might feel…hostility, towards the Systems Alliance," mused the Fleet Admiral.

"Hostility, towards their own?" Said Esheel, her tone unbelieving. "That sounds preposterous."

Dominic decided he wouldn't repeat that.

"No, it sounds reasonable," growled Oraka. "Imagine that you went through three decades of grueling war. You lost world after world, army after army. Then finally, at the end, it stops. And then you discover another version of your people, living their lives free of the burden of war, free of the suffering you went through. And then you discover they have been living in harmony with other species, living just like the very enemy who sought to destroy you? No, I doubt the UNSC would like the Systems Alliance more than they like us." The General paused, then seemed to consider how his passionate response might be interpreted. "No offense, Dominic."

"No, I understand," replied Dominic. "And I understand you, Fleet Admiral. I am merely looking for ways to solve our differences, in light of a stable relationship. Is there nothing that can be done?"

Fleet Admiral Harper seemed to consider his statement for a few moments. "I cannot make any promises or decisions until my superiors have spoken to yours. However, I believe…I believe that we might be able to put a positive spin on this encounter. If the consensus among the people is that the Citadel community is too reminiscent of the Covenant, I fear our differences might take decades to resolve. However, if they come to see the Citadel species in a positive light, I think they would be much more receptive to the concept of an alliance."

"Hmmm…Dominic, could you tell him that the Asari Republics would be very interested in opening a trade treaty with the UNSC?" Said Irissa.

"As would the Turian Hierarchy. That the UNSC suffered these losses for as long as they say they did will stir up the nations." Oraka turned to look Harper in his eyes. "My people have a strong sense of duty and service. We value honour. That we failed to see the plight of a species so similar to our own will almost certainly be interpreted as a disgrace." He paused to let Dominic keep up, then added, "We are willing to offer a trade treaty, as well as help rebuild your war-torn regions and remove trade barriers. Granted, of course, that the damage of your war was in fact as severe and unjustified as you claim it was."

"We value your sense of honour, and appreciate your intentions, if they are noble," replied the Fleet Admiral. "I do not have the power or authority to make such a drastic decision. Nonetheless, with the right supervision and public announcements, that might not be impossible."

Dominic felt a stab of…disapproval? Jealousy? The Hierarchy had certainly not been as forthcoming in the aftermath of the First Contact war. Granted, General Oraka seemed like an exceptionally empathic individual, but the turians as a whole still had to agree to his suggestions. That they would offer the UNSC so much, because they felt a kinship they did not feel with any other species, this fast, felt like a blow to the face.

He could be reading into this too much. After all, the Citadel had a vested interest in learning about the UNSC's FTL capacities and technology. But something told him that this was about more than just building bridges.

"Oh, before we continue, I must add one condition to our negotiations!" Irissa suddenly said, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Regarding the Prothean relics. My people place great value on the mysteries of the Protheans, and we have learned much from them. It is an important law that all Prothean relics and artefacts are to be shared with the galactic community, to ensure that no species will gain one advantage above another. We…cannot force you to comply, but your…AI did say that you have your own precursor species. If at all possible, we would formally request you share any Prothean artefacts with the Council."

The Fleet Admiral's jaw muscles worked, and his expression became sullen. "We see no problem in sharing any Pro…Protian?"

"Prothean," Dominic gently corrected him. It was an alien word, and nobody would blame the man for pronouncing it wrongly.

"Prothean, thank you. We see no problem in sharing any of their artefacts, should we actually encounter them. However, there exists a chance that our own precursor species has left signs and evidence of their existence in your part of the galaxy as well. It is imperative – absolutely imperative – that your governments share their location with us."

"I see no reason why we would not – " Dominic started, but Harper cut him off.

"No, I need you to understand. This is not about human interests. This is about all our interests. If you find any ancient relics that aren't Prothean, we must inspect them first. Let that be the UNSC's most pressing condition for peace."

The four Council representatives glanced at each other, their satisfaction and confusion slowly making way for unease.

"And why, might I ask, is that?" Said Esheel.

When Dominic relayed her words, the Fleet Admiral leant forwards and placed his hands on the table. "That is a matter of debate between your Council and our President," he replied, his voice urgent. "Let it be said that your precursors left you boons and technology, while ours left us problems. And believe me, these are problems that your people do not need."

Another series of glances and silent gestured were shared among the Citadel representatives. With a sigh, Dominic said, "We agree with this. Seeing as how urgent this matter to you is, it would be wise if your…President? If your President could arrive on the Citadel to solidify our negotiations. With that in mind, we would extent to the UNSC, and your humanity as a whole, an official invitation to the Citadel."

"An offer I shall take back to my superiors," replied the Fleet Admiral. "I look forward to a lasting friendship between people."


Lambda Serpentis System

Onboard UNSC New Dawn

Doctor David Ortyal found himself in the unfortunate position of wondering why the bodies he was operating on showed a lack of tissue damage, despite having been recovered from a warship that suffered from sudden-MAC syndrome.

Most bodies that got exposed to the vacuum of space would experience first-degree burns from unfiltered cosmic radiation. However, these aliens – called turians, as summarized by Commander De Blanc after a quick and thorough debriefing – seemed to have some form of metallic layer replacing the epidermis. That would explain the incredible resistance to solar radiation.

It also delayed the deep tissue imaging by a couple of hours. Hopefully, Yin would have it solved soon.

"The turian species appears humanoid…about six feet tall, with two arms and two legs," he muttered to himself. He'd have to compile an official report, so recording equipment in his hazmat-suit would safe him the trouble of having to recall his thoughts. "Opposable thumbs, tipped with talons. They remind me of birds of prey. Teeth profile and jaw structure, combined with eye placement, suggests the turian species is predatory."

Many people laughed at him when he told them that he poked dead things with a stick for a profession. Who had the last laugh now?

"Metallic skin layer does not offer much protection against blades. Yin, spoof the audio for three seconds would you?"

He picked up the Magnum from the nearby table and shot the dead turian in front of him in the arm.

"And neither does it protect from firearms. Good news for the jarheads who feared they'd have to face down the xeno filth with the power of their cold, hard stares and square jaws alone…"

"I'll have to cut that part out," warned Yin.

"Whatever. Turians must have evolved on a homeworld constantly bombarded with radiation…incorporating the tissue from their outer skin into current BDU's might provide complete immunity to radiation weapons. Must investigate further."

Then began the grim business of actually cutting the corpse open. Yin had installed a surgery rig just for the occasion, allowing her to perform pinpoint incisions which no human could ever replicate. Needless to say, doctor Ortyal completely ignored that possibility and continued without asking for her aid.

"Digestive system from carnivores is usually shorter and less complex than those of herbivores, since meat is easier to digest than plant tissue. Since the turian teeth, claws, senses and guts all point towards a carnivorous diet, it can be concluded that their diet is mainly meat-based."

"Deep tissue scans reveal that the bone structure lacks distinctive pneumatic cavities, the bone structure is more lightweight than that of humans. An avian ancestry can be hypothesized," Yin suddenly said.

David put his scalpel down. "Okay, what the hell?"

She materialized from one of the holographic pedestals, blinking at him like she was the very picture of innocence. "Whatever is wrong, doctor Ortyal?"

"I was tasked with one thing and one thing only, woman. You are stealing my thunder."

She rolled with her eyes. Running a hand through her long, blond hair, she then said, "Does it really matter as long as we are doing it for the UNSC?"

"As if the discovery of alien life is the biggest discovery of this event," he dismissively said. "Their Faster-Than-Light travel is based around that enormous machine over there and doesn't require ripping a hole through reality. You can present all of that to Lady ONI and earn yourself a pat on the head. Turning in the biological findings of this new civilization is my duty."

"I do like my headpats," quipped the AI. "In all honesty, you might have bitten off more than you could chew back then. What on earth were you thinking, blabbing off to the head of ONI like that?"

"Human conversations are long, filled with unnecessary details. Problem: I am the very best at my job. Other people might mess it up. Solution? Convince Parangosky to send me."

"Methodology? Blab off and get send to prove your worth, or show that you need to be "removed" as an unnecessary element". Smart move. One problem: what if you don't produce any results?"

"Then I will probably never see a natural light source again for the rest of my dramatically-shortened life," replied David, turning his attention to the internal organs of the alien. "Hence, don't steal my thunder."

"Okay," replied the AI. She stayed quiet for a full three seconds before suddenly saying, "Hey, did you know that these Citadel species have their own humanity?"

The doctor considered that for a moment "'Kay."

"What, that's it?" Yin said, surprised. "No existential crisis, no unholy madman-screeches? The Captain had to sit back with a bottle of whiskey when I told him."

He shrugged. "I know. A different human race, living thousands of light-years away? It seemed preposterous during the first few seconds. But then I remembered how fascinated the Forerunners were with us. The whole Reclaimer business. We also know of the Halo Array and the reseeding. And that clued me in. If the Forerunners could reseed the many, many many thousands of species to such an accurate degree, who is to say they did not make a backup? In case something screws up and eats our solar system, for example, they'd have an artificially-created solar system on the other end of the galaxy to start anew."

"Oh, right this you take well," the AI replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But when the head engineer puts the coffee machine on the other end of the table you freak the F out?"

"I am a xenologist, Yin, not a coffeelogist. Deep tissue scan, please?"

"Ugh, fine. I'll get it running. Any headway on the Admiral's pet project?"

"Well, I've written down three theoretical ways to alter an existing RNA virus to induce a viral hemorrhagic fever within a sangheili individual. There are four steps involved in the process; dissemination of the virus due to suppressed immune responses, which in turns leads to the prevention of antigen-specific immune responses. Third is induced apoptosis of immune cells and finally, a form of diapedesis that leads to coagulation deficiency. The following protein denaturalization will result in "gaps" between cells, leading to further increased endothelial permeability, hence the…the hemorrhaging."

"Now that will earn you a pat on the head," teased Yin.

David was less than amused. "Yeah, but it's only in theory. A practical application would take more resources than the New Dawn carries. Even if you were to synthesize the molecules required, the process would be long and tedious. Also, it's not a magical kill-Elite button. Our own history has proven that even the most dangerous plagues or viral outbreaks eventually die down when there are no localized hosts around, or when scientists start doing their thing, or even when immune individuals arise within a population!"

"That's not something you need to worry about. ONI can handle the rest, should the worst come to pass."

"Should the worst come to…is this how humanity wins the war? Attempted genocide?"

The AI looked at him with annoyance. "Do you want to do this again? Fine. Debating the terms of atrocities is easy after the fact. The Covenant was on the verge of wiping us out."

"But the Elites were fooled, betrayed even! Once they discovered the truth, they wanted out!"

"Oh, those poor aliens, fooled into happily commuting genocide," Yin said, placing her hand against her mouth in a mocking gesture. "This is who we are! We are survivors! Should the sangheili eventually come to the conclusion that the genocide of mankind maybe wasn't such a bad idea after all, we'll have a weapon to defend ourselves with!"

There was an odd emotional aspect in Yin's words, one that doctor Ortyal had never experienced with an AI before. "Yes, I know, a WMD as a last resort. Except some asshole in a black room that doesn't exist can decide the only way to alleviate his murder-boner is to push the big, green button and make an entire species suffer, or even perish. Do you really want to be responsible for that?"

"When you become part of this organization, you understand that you sometimes have to do terrible things in the name of the greater good," Yin all but bit at him. "You of all people should know this!"

"I do know that!" David yelled back, pointing at the AI with the scalpel. "When I applied I knew perfectly well that I would enjoy doing what I do if it meant no alien would ever harm a human again. But this is different! It's deliberately seeking out someone who does not wish you anymore harm and then shooting them dead, which is maybe a bad idea!"

Yin faked a cough, then pointed at something directly behind him.

The doctor swore under his breath and glanced over his shoulder. Captain Walker stood on the opposite end of the glass, looking at him with a slight frown.

Great. That guy.

"We're not done yet," he told the AI, before deactivating the noise dampeners. "Yes, Captain Walker?"

"I need you to team up with doctor Raymond," the Captain replied, sounding uncharacteristically restrained. "First Contact wrapped up. You've got new orders."

David frowned. He was still busy with the last time lady ONI gave him new orders. "What kind of orders are those? Sir?"

"We've got another ONI sloop heading our way. Real hush-hush. Designated K5. They'll want to debrief you for something."

Ortyal rolled with his eyes. Of course they do.


Serpent Nebula / Citadel Station / Council Private Chambers

Councilor Tevos had seen and experienced a lot in her long life. In the 587 year since she had been born, she experienced both the best as the worst of what the galaxy had to offer. While she hadn't lived as long as most Matriarchs in positions of power, she liked to think that there wasn't much that could surprise her.

But now, for the first time in her career as a Councilor, her vast pool of experience and knowledge came up short. The experience of her advisors and experts came up short. The wisdom of the entire Inner Circle might well come up short too.

Illium had fallen. The entity entombed beneath the Sanctum had returned with an armada powerful enough to crush the Fleet that protected the industrial powerhouse. That was all the contacts in the listening post had been able to reveal, shortly before the entire planet went dark.

The entirety of the Second Fleet had been sent to liberate the planet, as neither the Southern nor the Western Assembly of Matriarchs had been willing to send the Sixth Fleet, with its mighty Dreadnaughts and near-supernatural legacy. Revealing the true urgency behind Illium's liberation was not an option: the majority of Matriarchs were unaware of the importance of the Inner Circle.

Thus, with a rising sense of dread welling up inside of her heart, Tevos began reading the Second Fleet's reports. At the very least they made it to the Tasale System alive…who knows what this mystical entity could do with the power he wielded.

The report consisted of a series of video clips, accompanied by after-action reports that had been added to provide context. The first video clip was the Second Fleet's approach of the planet, taking note of the scattered clouds of debris that had once been Illium's defense Fleet. Glistering fragments of molten armour, milky clouds of propellant and vented atmosphere, broken segments of hull…and bodies.

A ghastly reminder that the situation in Section Zero demanded her attention as well.

The next video was of the planet itself. The capital city, Nos Astra, had been completely leveled. Enormous craters pocketed the surface, still smoldering. The city arcologies were mostly rubble. The after-action report pointed out that the damage seemed to come from a combination of kinetic impacts, followed by fission weapons detonating. Research was still ongoing, as the surface of the planet gave off unidentified energy readings.

Tevos cradled her face in her hands. Illium had a population of ninety million people…surely those had evacuated once the violence began? Certainly the mysterious entity would have taken pity on an unarmed civilian population, and given the chance to flee for their lives?

Oh Goddess, what had the ancestors been thinking, building the capital city around the alien artefact?

But the Protheans had favoured the asari! Their people were chosen to lead the galactic civilizations to new levels! Certainly the entity did not know that it was an asari colony he laid waste to?

The headache was slowly growing worse. How could the Inner Circle expect her to salvage this if she did not even know all the secrets? They knew that her decisions had an enormous, not to say lasting impact on the galaxy. All Councilors needed to be absolutely certain of the facts before they made any sort of decision or drew upon any form of edict.

The third video was one of those "amateur" vids that the population took before the planet went dark. It was the alien sphere – long thought to contain a living specimen of a powerful precursor species – and it floated high in the sky of Nos Astra, as if casting its gaze down on the population and deeming them unworthy. The individual who filmed it, started running when the massive alien Dreadnaughts started appearing. And then it cut off.

Tevos sighed. Hundreds of those clips had leaked to the extranet. Her people had been swift in pulling those fragments and images from the extranet, but it took a fool to believe that all the evidence could be made to disappear. Soon, everybody would know that Illium had been the victim of an alien invasion.

And when word of the attack on the Quarian Flotilla spread, and people started comparing those vessels to the Fleet that laid waste to Illium…

Tevos felt the urge to smack something. How could she do what was best for her people when she did not even understand what was happening?

She needed time to process this…bombardment of information. One matter at a time, as her mentor once taught her. Focus on the positive developments.

Yes…positive developments. The First Contact with the UNSC went according well, all things considered. The Representatives of the Council species had recently returned from their voyage, bringing with them a wealth of new information regarding this…second humanity.

And what information they found…

Tevos shut her omni-tool down again, in light of her preparations for the next meeting. Tiresome…bothersome. As if the Systems Alliance humanity wasn't enough to deal with. At least they could be kept on a tight leash, influenced both publicly as covertly to play along with the Council's desires. But this UNSC…they were aggressive, paranoid, unpredictable and difficult to reach. Thus far, Relay 315 was the only Mass Relay that led into UNSC territory, and there was no saying how much space they had claimed. If it came to war, the Fleets might not even be capable of reaching their worlds.

And peaceful contact with those people was supposed to align with the Circle's interests? Tevos was skeptical.

She sighed again and focused on her notes for the coming meeting. The UNSC would need a way to reach the Citadel for proper negotiations between their leader and the Councilors. Paranoid as they were, they would never agree to travel along with Citadel starships, and granting them access to Element Zero based technology was out of the question for now.

Although, their ability to appear and disappear using that dimension-transitioning seemed…disturbingly efficient. They might not need the mass effect to make their way to the Citadel.

Just like that, her thoughts traveled back to Illium. A planet that close to the Terminus Systems had plenty of ways to defend itself. How could this alien fleet just emerge on top of them like that, with nary a warning? Could they truly be the dreaded Covenant, the ones who waged war with the UNSC? There was no possible way that the Inner Circle could have predicted them as well. No doubt they were convening at this very moment, bringing their considerable assets to bear to locate this missing precursor and his alien armada.

But the more Tevos tried to convince herself that they could still salvage this situation, the more she started to think that her people had made a terrible, terrible misstep.

And that frightened her, more than anything. If the Inner Circle were to suspect that she had her reservations…she shuddered to think about what they might do.


Onboard unidentified warship

Spartan Operator-003 stared at the redheaded woman lying in her bed. A functional, viable clone. He read the documents about the Spartan-II program, even the parts ONI wouldn't want him to. He knew about the flash-cloned children, and how they would deteriorate and die at a young age.

Not her. A detailed scan revealed that she was augmented. Physical implants, which explained why she was so strong during her initial breakdown.

Not knowing what else to do, now that he couldn't plan for his next engagement, the Spartan spent hours on the alien network, reading up on anything that might give him an edge in the coming engagements.

According to the Extranet, the original Shepard was a woman of many talents and abilities. A charismatic speaker, a gifted leader and a terrifying combatant.

A Biotic.

Telekinetic abilities, miniature singularity fields, dark energy that could tear through solid armour…a tremendous asset. An enormous risk.

His hand slipped beneath the woman's hair and to the back of her neck. She made a soft noise, shifting in her sleep.

All Biotics required a Biotic amp to function in combat. Try as he might, the Spartan could not find such an amp in the back of her neck. If she were to prove useful to him, she needed such an implant.

He supposed he might have found one on Illium, before the Covenant reappeared.

Before the Forerunner reappeared.

Two days passed since Millennia got them out of there. Two days of hectic travel, resource gathering and what appeared to be covert searching.

Millennia Never Falling refused to communicate with any of them. She spent every waking second invading the systems of other species, hacking their systems and scouring their territory for any materials she thought useful. Sometimes, she seemed to forget to engage whatever spoofing or stealth technology she had at her disposal, and the owner of said system would send a small group of ships to attack them, only to be met with sudden annihilation.

In-between the star systems of the asari home-cluster, the AI seemed to be building something big. Whatever data she had left, seemed to allow her to rapidly assemble machinery.

But all of that frantic action meant that the ship's organic "crew" had little choice but to remain as far away from her bridge as possible. The asari they picked up from Illium seemed to be familiar with Liara and Feron, as she used one of those Biotic abilities to shield them – and herself – from the grueling gravitational force that the ship underwent during their escape. Given the callous nature of their pilot, it was very possible that this "Matriarch" saved their lives.

Lost in thoughts as he was, the Spartan missed the moment the clone opened her eyes. When he glanced down at her again, she was staring at him, green eyes with slivers of hazel, framed by thick eyelashes.

"Who are you?" The clone spoke to him, her voice a hoarse whisper, unaccustomed to the activity.

"Nobody important," he replied. "Better question. Who are you?"

She stared at him, her expression not quite blank. Bare. No memories, no instinct, a human mind with nothing to build from. She had the same DNA as Shepard. The same face. The same body. Did she have her skills as well? That knack for bringing people together, the charisma to lead them?

She blinked, but didn't respond.

"Your name is Shepard. Jane Shepard," he told the clone. You're a soldier."

"Shepard…" she quietly repeated.

"Soldier," insisted the Spartan. "Do you have any memories at all?"

Her stare remained blank.

This was hopeless. How many years of training would she require? "You need to learn," he told her. "If you want to survive the coming days."

He could see it in her eyes. His words had no meaning for her. He anticipated as much. Wordlessly, he tossed her an omni-tool, hoping that whoever implanted her with those augments, also programmed her to be able to read.

What had been Millennia's goal, sending him to the clone Shepard instead of the real one? What was she trying to achieve?

Feeling that he couldn't do much more for her, the Spartan went to check up on Feron next. The alien spent the last fifteen hours or so sleeping. It was very likely his body just crashed from the past few days; the torture at the hands of the Shadow Broker, the hurried escape from Illium…it was impressive that he had been able to keep himself together as long as he did.

As the Spartan made his way to the infirmary section of the ship, he heard Feron, Liara and the Matriarch speaking long before he actually reached their room. It appeared that the drell finally woke up. Good.

"- just saying, he shows up like a mystery man, all heroic, then pulls you from the ship? I don't buy it," a rough, woman's voice echoed through the hall.

They left the door open and didn't bother to lower their voices. Alan stopped just short of rounding the corner. This sounded like it might be relevant.

"If Feron says the Shadow Broker is dead, then he is. I believe him," a gentler, softer voice responded. "I don't know who – or even what – he is, but he did save our lives."

"Yeah, fat lot that means," the older woman replied again. "Could be a façade to earn your trust. You're stuck in its ship, in the company of a crazy, homicidal AI, doing Goddess knows what! You heard what happened on the Citadel, how an AI disabled the entire Citadel Defense Fleet, just like that!"

"That they are both armoured creatures does not mean they are the same group of individuals, or even species," Liara calmly replied.

"Oh, you're right! That one was green, this one is black!"

"Sarcasm it not the highest form of wit, Matriarch. And the galaxy is larger than you think."

"Oh, it might be a lot smaller than you think," grumbled the older asari. In a quitter tone, she added, "Both of us are Biotics. We could disable the thing, find out what hides underneath that helmet. Get some answers. He's basically holding us hostage, for crying out loud!"

Alan frowned. He didn't remember asking the Matriarch to come onboard. If she proved to be a threat, he'd have to neutralize her.

"That would be the most blasphemous way of committing suicide I can think of," Feron dryly replied. "And regardless, I would not stand for it. Be he organic, machine or deity, this…Spartan saved me. He saved Liara, and you, Matriarch. "

"Then what about that…that thing that commands him! If it's really a goddamned AI, we need to get out of here as soon as possible!"

"I wouldn't talk that way, Matriarch," Feron replied with a weary voice. "That she concerns herself with matters beyond our understanding, does not mean she does not hear you. And whatever she is, she is…a proud entity. It would be smart to remember that.

Feron was remarkably sensible. More sensible than some humans the Spartan knew. He was starting to get used to the green-skinned alien.

The Matriarch made a sound that Alan had come to associate with angry Brutes and the argument seemed to stop.

But the distrust she harboured towards him wasn't entirely misplaced. The Spartan valued Feron's presence and would tolerate this "Liara" because she was so important to him. The Matriarch, however, was an unknown element.

The Spartan Operators had been trained specifically to remove unknown elements. He'd keep a close eye on the alien.

…that being said, there was someone else he needed to keep an eye on, too. He knew that they couldn't just storm the Citadel, as any Forerunner activity would inadvertedly lead the Master Builder to the very center of galactic civilization. But he had hoped that Millennia had found a way to get to the real Commander Shepard by now. A human-made smart AI could get insufferable if they had a couple of seconds of downtime. A mind that could solve a couple trillion calculations per second needed constant stimulation

What could keep a Forerunner smart AI busy for two whole days?

The bridge doors were closed and locked, as always. However, when Alan slammed his fist against the locking mechanism, it disintegrated and burned away in red embers. Then, the doors soundlessly pulled open.

This was the first time he saw the bridge actually changing. Drones that looked suspiciously like smaller Sentinels seemed to be "weaving" components into the structure of the bridge with precision blasts of golden light. The lack of dedicated construction methods didn't seem to bother the things.

The view screen of the bridge was devoid of holographic images this time. The Cruiser drifted over a yellow-red planet, thought it looked like it had recently been bombarded with something. Large, gaping craters were visible in the view screen.

"What are we doing here?" Alan asked. He wondered how recent those planetary scars were.

Silence, cur. I must focus.

The message was clear enough, so Alan folded his hands behind his back and continued watching the planet. He presumed that there was a reason why the Cruiser was parked in what seemed to be geosynchronous orbit around this planet. As the minutes ticked by, a large dust cloud formed on the planet's surface.

The Spartan watched in fascination as asteroids and other projectiles entered the world's atmosphere, trailing kilometers of flames before slamming into the world surface.

A beautiful display of violence, for sure. But what was the point?

He got his answer a minute later, when…something emerged from the weathered planet's surface. At first, it looked like a massive piece of debris, losing many hundreds of tons of rubble and dust as it ascended from the surface. But the blue aura that emanated from the rubble's underside indicated that it was something else entirely.

Then, the dust and the rocks seemed to explode outwards, before disintegrating in an pulse of blue light, revealing a massive, skeletal machine. It had a segmented body and elaborate, shifting wings, like an eagle. Its head was roughly elliptical, at least vertically. The head was strangely humanoid, albeit it a helmeted one.

The structure reached escape velocity within seconds, rapidly approaching the Cruiser.

Its alien, skeletal appearance unsettled the Spartan. Apprehension welled in within his abdomen and he tensed up, ready to take evasive action should the thing prove hostile.

The construct was enormous, dwarfing the hijacked Cruiser three times over. It was the size of a Covenant Destroyer, easily.

"Are you done focusing?" He asked, taking a few steps back from the window, suddenly realizing just how frail these Citadel warships truly were.

They had it all wrong. The Protheans were shaped by those reseeded by the second, their curious resistance but a quirk of physics. The true glimpse of greatness was far closer than they ever thought. Just around the corner, but out of reach. Today, the capacity to lock down a solar system with but a single Custode seems insignificant compared to the task that lies ahead. But it is a start.

He really did not like the tone that the Forerunner spoke with. "What are you going to do with this?"

A show of force to those trailing us, first. To be the key spanner in the foul works of entities far beyond even the Master Builder, perhaps second. Watch.

Space seemed to boil and warp around the "Custode". Within mere seconds, a bluish rift appeared in front of it and the hijacked Cruiser, a tear in the fabric of reality itself. When it collapsed, the view screen showed a completely different sight. A group of alien vessels, most likely asari warships, drifted in space, the last crackles of blue light dissipating along their hulls.

Millennia manifested herself within the bridge, standing a full seven feet tall. Her light gave the reworked room a fiery, red hue. She spread her arms and the Custode, apparently positioned right above their cruiser, fired several blue lights at the assorted starships.

Thinking fast, the Spartan said, "Maybe they can be reasoned with."

The lights moved like lasers, crossing the hundreds of kilometers instantly and spearing the asari ships. They did not detonate, however. Whatever this construct packed, wasn't immediately lethal.

They are vermin. Primitives. I know that after your…alterations, your brain contains little in the way of rational thought, but you of all people would have me communicate with them?

It was almost ironic. He spent his entire life ruthlessly hunting down and killing anyone and anything ONI pointed him at. Humans, aliens, it never mattered to him or his fellow Operators. But now, he found himself serving as someone else's conscience. He couldn't think of someone less qualified.

"Until we can intercept Shepard's transport, we might as well try to retrieve other assets," he explained. "The asari are the most powerful and influential species in the Citadel. Since they are the ones who found the…Cryptum…"

Surrounding their development is a series of catastrophic flaws. Reverence directed towards the wrong entities seems laughable, were it not enough to bring the stars down upon them in an entirely different way than their pantheon.

"Is that a yes?"

Rings of pulsating gold light traveled the length of his body. Alan suddenly felt light-headed, and saw an explosion of white light. What felt like a second later, he felt his body rush together like a puzzle with a billion pieces. He felt disorientated, nauseous and strangely surrounded.

When he looked up from his unsteady feet, he realized that he now stood in an entirely different bridge. This one actually seemed friendly and welcome.

Were it not for the dozen or so asari staffed on the bridge. They looked up in surprise as the Spartan materialized in their midst. They gasped and flinched, some of them even stumbling backwards at his sight.

There. Reason to your heart's content.

"Goddess!" One of the present asari yelled, before reaching for her sidearm.

"You and I need to talk, when this is done," the Spartan growled at the AI.


Citadel Station

Citadel Security Services: Impoundment Yard

"Huh," muttered Chellick.

"Yeah," replied Jenna. "It's uhh…yeah."

"Did not expect that. At all."

The two C-Sec detectives stared at the smoldering puddles of organic and mechanical bits that remained of the five keepers in the vicinity. The likely-Prothean artefact they confiscated from Commander Shepard's ship now dominated the room with its eerie glow and faint, electrical pulses. Roughly as high as a volus and shaped like a Councilor's conference table,

"It didn't do that when they brought it in," said Chellick. "Spirits, it didn't do that when those scientists started poking at it."

"Well, you know those asari," replied Jenna, waving her hand in front of her face to ward off the horrible stench. "They've got a magic touch when it comes to tech. Maybe they were better than they expected?"

"I wouldn't call this better," grumbled the turian. Every keeper within the Impoundment Yard turned into a puddle goo because of this strange artefact. Had this not occurred after the cyber-attack, Chellick would have suspected Shepard of outright terrorism. And even then, the Shepard he knew wouldn't do this.

"What does this mean?" Continued Jenna. "Should we warn someone? What if they blame us!"

"They won't blame us," Chellick hurried to soothe his partner's fears. "Keepers only self-destruct if they're scanned, right? And we've got a Prothean artefact right there. And it's active to boot. No, nobody is going to blame us for this."

Jenna frowned. "Hold up. They only self-destruct when scanned, right?"

"Or when they're tampered with."

"Then…did that thing scan the keepers? Why? How?"

"I don't know," replied Chellick, annoyed. "It's above our paygrade, anyway. Let's call it in, have someone else solve this."

If Chellick knew his human expressions, Jenna looked very uneasy. "Why do you think Shepard carried this thing along with her? She wasn't smuggling it, was she?"

"Shepard wouldn't do that. That's not like her," argued Chellick. Though the Alliance would be taking the Commander into their own custody in a couple of hours, he still couldn't believe that she did the things she was accused of.

"I don't know. Smuggling an AI onboard the Citadel didn't seem like her either, but the evidence's irrefutable," replied Jenna. "And that armoured thing that was responsible for slaughtering an entire Special Response team? I want to think that this is just political racism or something, but it really does look like the Commander cracked."

Yes, Chellick supposed that made sense. He overheard some of his superiors talking about the case. A lot of her history was now coming back to haunt her. Apart from the Special Response team, there was something about an asari research vessel, the obvious colluding with a terrorist faction like Cerberus and other supposed acts of criminal activity against the Citadel Laws.

"Like I said, it's above our paygrade," Chellick simply said again. "Here, help me carry these boxes, would you?"

And both C-Sec detectives went about their daily routine again, both of them forgetting about the alien artefact that now stood in the very center of the yard, still vaguely pulsating with energy.