Mass Effect is not mine, nor do I gain monetary compensation from it. This has been stated once before, and shall not be stated again ... in all probability.


Over his early years, Shepard earned many titles. From a lowly private, he rose through the ranks swiftly, although he seemed reluctant to ever gain rank beyond Commander. As a sergeant, he earned the name: The Lion of Elysium. His actions against batarians across Alliance Space gave him the sobriquet Nar'sheth, or the "blood drinking ghost" in translation. His N7 codename was "Chaos," and to one overly romantic researcher, "M-theory." When I asked her, she said it was because he "operates by his own rules. You can never fully predict him, or determine why he does what he does … and he does it anyway."

She had a slightly glazed look when my agent interviewed her, ergo the validity of the statement is open to interpretation. However, the point is made, Shepard was famous. For his alleged wealth, for his skill in combat, and of course, his intellectual prowess. Any minor handicaps were blatantlyignored by what would later become history texts.

I managed to obtain an eyewitness account of his first encounter with the Reapers, although I was unfortunately unable to attend that historic event. As you could imagine, it was memorable. Not for his combat prowess, which was admittedly excellent, or the death of Spectre Nihlus Kryik, which was lamentable. No, it is memorable because of how the entire situation went from a planned mission into utter chaos. I believe the best analogy would be: "surfing an avalanche."

Dr. Arnold Pavenmeyer

~Project Ragnorak Files


Eden Prime

2183

Shepard landed with a light crunch, his weight cracking through bushes the Normandy's sensors had picked up, but deemed small enough to allow an effective drop point. The shrubbery had been remarkably difficult to detect. Immediately, the tactical part of his mind shifted into puzzling over whether the bushes could be bio-engineered as forms of natural sensor-baffles … or possibly as transplanted deterrents … and if he could get a few samples for R&D.

Fortunately, the rest of his mind was on the mission. Jenkins landed to his left, easily avoiding the shrubs with the practiced grace of a native. Having jets on his armor helped turn his natural grace into something almost preternatural. Behind Lieutenant Jenkins, Alenko used biotics to reduce his mass, using the lesser weight to gently skim over the thin branches before touching down.

Careful braggart. Think ahead, you're not alone on this mission. Shepard's head twisted left, then right, missing nothing in his immediate survey. No hostiles danger close, his gaze swept further out, clear mid, good. Something twitched, catching his attention. He swung a pistol into firing position. His comrades were almost as fast, Alenko's fist glowing with repressed fury while Jenkins lowered his carbine in an intimidating rattle of hardware.

Snorting, Jenkins lowered his weapon. "Oh, don't worry about those, Commander." Alenko glanced at Shepard before letting the pale flames die away. "We call them gas bags, harmless really."

Shepard flipped his pistol over in a more relaxed position but didn't holster it. "Fair enough." He stared at the ambulatory thing hard, then pushed it from his mind. "Jenkins, since you're the local, you take point." Sending light assault units on point was counter-protocol, but Corporal Jenkins was the most familiar with the terrain. Rules were made for paper worlds; war tore paper worlds in half.

"Aye-aye Commander!" Jenkins gave a half-salute, jets whirring in readiness.

Shepard watched him for a moment, casually moving through the waist-high underbrush without breaking a twig. Impressive. I'll have to keep an eye on that one. If he can lose the whole "awesome N7" idea, he might be a candidate ….

"Sir!" a shout reached his headset. Shepard reacted to the desperation in Corporal Jenkin's voice, clearing a pair of shrubs in a single bound.

The light assault trooper stood twenty feet ahead, staring at a large, flat rock. From a distance, Shepard could see the carbine in Jenkins' hands shaking like a leaf in a high wind. Whatever else he may have been, Shepard knew Jenkins was as brave as they came. Whatever the unknown threat was had to be formidable.

Hardened though he was, Shepard had to quell a deep sense of revulsion as he looked over the edge. Sometimes, he thought, it's better to be me. Next to him, Jenkins retched, trying to pull away from the sight, yet unable to do so. Shepard put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, silently offering comfort.

As the younger man quivered, Shepard took another scan of the horizon. From the relatively open clearing, he could now see a monstrous thing, rising above the trees. Threads of red electricity wound their way around the towering construct, like snakes. Just the sight made Shepard's teeth tingle; an almost palpable evil sensation.

"Poor souls." Alenko came up behind, having been slightly slower than Shepard. His body language spoke of compassion; Shepard was sure it was written on the dark-haired man's face, but didn't bother trying to find it.

Commander Shepard pulled his hand back, ignoring Alenko's approving glance. Stay cold, keep frosty. The closer they get, the more it hurts.

"Let's keep moving," he growled. "This looks like slaver work, but only the worst kind … " He took a moment to glare accusingly at the massive construct, still making red shadows flicker on the ground. Easy Shepard, you already have enough on your plate. No need to take on more … he studied the body at his feet. Its burnt, blackened form … somehow … made it a little more personal.

He growled again, a rumble from deep in his chest. "Someone's going to pay for this."

"Agreed, Commander." Jenkins voice wasn't joyful anymore, enthusiasm buried in a pit of anger. Shepard felt a twinge of sadness at yet another loss of innocence. It never got easier, no matter how often he saw it.

With the grisly example so close, Shepard kept a more watchful eye out. Watch the corners, even if you have more wit than wisdom. Three ranges, close, mid, and far. Focus on mid and bounce between the three.

A dual-toned voice broke in over his thoughts, clicking into his headset. "Commander. I've found quite a few bodies at a suburb, half a klick east of your position."

Shepard tapped the earpiece side of his visor, initiating a data transfer. While he eschewed helmets on ground missions, eye protection was a necessity. "Acknowledged, Spectre. Cause of death?"

"Short range energy discharge, and possible small arms fire. The bodies are badly damaged, but they're a mix of civilian and military, based on the armor pieces."

Shepard inhaled deeply, "Understood. Stay wary. Shepard out." As he closed the channel, he heard Jenkins curse under his breath.

"Same. Kryik out."

A large boulder offered a small spot of shade, incidentally an excellent place to think. Although the armor he wore employed its own thermo-regulation system, Shepard ducked under the massive stone's shelter, reveling in the cold sensation. He took a moment to survey his surroundings, noting the interplay between the abundant foliage and brilliant sunshine.

It was almost a parody on how such a sunshine-filled day could be hosting the terror that had to be occurring less than a mile away. The furrows between his eyebrows deepened. What could the slavers be thinking? Teach a lesson? Kill and burn? Nihlus didn't have time to go through a burned house, were the bodies hauled out and executed?

Shepard closed his eyes, concentrating on his other senses. He could smell the grease used to lubricate his weaponry's moving parts, and the slight ozone tang from Alenko's biotic amplifier, sending his thoughts down another trail. Alliance technology was still somewhat behind Council standards when it came to biotics. Humans had been discovered to be far less likely to have biotics, less than ten percent of the total population, in fact. Those few that were so gifted were wooed by corporations and government grants, almost to the point of bribery.

Following the train of thought, Shepard opened his eyes, studying his Lieutenant out of the corner of an eye. Alenko was a sturdily built man, dark-haired and possessed an impressive physique. He could also eat twice the amount anyone around him could, and work it off within hours.

Shepard winced internally, careful to keep the motion from his face. The cost of biotics was a highly accelerated metabolism, the ramifications of which were not yet fully understood. Advanced aging was a possibility, though the thought was frightening. Previous experiments had revealed no such symptoms, but those had been solely from people that had non –amplified abilities. Few official studies had been made after First Contact, almost no federal research had been made on the more efficient amplifiers created thereafter. A mistake in his opinion, not that it had been asked.

Can't always trust your eyes, Shepard, you know that. The voice of an old acquaintance floated to the surface of his mind. Smell. Listen. They can stop your eyes but they can't stop your mind. A soft whine, unlike any of the hardware he wore, disturbed the calm aura around the clearing. Shepard whipped his head around, eyes scanning. Jenkins had just entered an open space, covered by Alenko while Shepard pondered. Farther down the path lay a pair of fallen trees, massive, ancient organisms that had to have been centuries old upon their demise. More trees, some even larger than their fallen brethren, overshadowed the path at the far end of the clearing. Shepard's mind raced, something detecting movement somewhere under his nose.

There, in the branches. He spotted floating shapes hovering under the forest canopy. Faint prism effects coruscated across low-powered shields, partially occluded by the thick shadows.

"Jenkins! Take cover!" Shepard bellowed. The floating platforms dove from their concealment, already beginning to spew their fire.

Jets flared into life, as Jenkins obeyed the warning. He shot skywards, manipulating the jets expertly, flipping to flop into an ungainly landing behind a fallen log as the drones fire hit his shields. Alenko, pistol already out, made a fist with his off-hand sending an azure shield over the exposed marine. The field rippled, courtesy of the rapid-fire rounds peppering its surface.

Shepard put away his pistol, swapping it for his long rifle. He took a moment to observe the floating fire platforms, calculating their motions while Alenko and Jenkins sprayed suppressing fire across the intervening distance.

The rifle's scope slid into place in front of his eye. One of the platforms twitched slightly in his direction, and suddenly all three platforms pulled away, speeding for the understory. Shepard exhaled, feathering the trigger. The stock shoved into his shoulder, but he was able to see the robotic construct spin out of control. Sweeping leftwards, Shepard was surprised to see the other two drones already engaging in erratic behavior. Instead of the smooth progress of an automated system, they were skidding, altering their pitch to grant him a minimal target, almost as if they were being guided.

Shepard smirked, something he felt free to do behind the crosshairs of his rifle. You can run, but you can't hide. The scope centered ahead of the fleeing drones, and he feathered the trigger again. This time, the high-velocity round creased one of the drone's flanks, shaking its course into a limb whereupon it exploded in a brilliant fashion. The third drone, buffeted by the shockwave, didn't stop. Shepard lost sight of it in the upper branches, but he was fairly certain it was returning to whomever had sent it … or it had overheated its main gun and was unable to fight, one of the two.

High quality hardware, excellent manufacture, he thought. Those were metal constructs, very expensive, but insanely reusable. Most drones are polymer assemblies; cheap, but flimsy. Making them out of metal extends their lifespan for years, possibly. Months at the least.

"Easy private." He heard Alenko assuring the fallen soldier. "You're good now."

Shepard nodded to himself. Good man, Alenko. Depending on how long this deployment lasts, he should be my number two for ground.

"Up and at 'em." He said aloud. The tall grass caught at his ankles, slowing his progress to a stalk. "We have ground to cover, gents."

Jenkins bolted to his feet, stumbling slightly. "Sir, yes sir!"

Shepard waited until Alenko approached, then gave him an approving look. "Fast work, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir."

Pulling back a moment, Shepard tapped the earpiece once. "Alpha One, sitrep."

A mildly static-filled voice came back. "Alpha One here, sir. We're west of the main settlement, about five klicks away from that monster ship. It's … quiet. Way too quiet."

Shepard held up a fist, halting the team's progress. "Speculate."

"Well, there's broken windows and a few smashed doors, but there's very little blood. I put two scouts on perimeter, but we have no bodies." The voice paused, sounding almost hesitant before forging on. "Spooky, sir."

He snorted. "Bravo one, what do you have?"

A different voice responded. " Lieutenant Jørgensen here. We're not seeing – cut that out – any lack of civvies, sir."

"Any problems?" Shepard raised an eyebrow.

"Just a lot of panicked people, and some idiots with guns trying to take on all comers. One of the morons tried to take a piece of me; we're fine, sir."

"Civilians." Shepard made the word sound like a curse under his breath. "All right. Do what you can, but your priority is to see what's taking the civvies near Alpha position."

"Roger that. Jørgensen out."

Shepard shook his head, motioning for his squad to continue. Bravo squad's Lieutenant Jørgensen had been a relatively recent development; she was headstrong, but brave, almost to a fault – hence, her placement on the second team rather than the first. Have to keep an eye on her. Jets fly almost as fast as her mouth, she should be safe, but one wrong move … no. Trust her – for now.

The clearing was traversed within seconds, the dense grouping of trees throwing them in a deep shade. The thick trunks towered over their heads, branches weaving a wooden network dense enough to shut out most of the sunlight. Shepard kept a wary eye out for the retreating drone from earlier, but didn't see anything other than leaves and wood. Nothing living, or pseudo-living, anyway.

A glint of light caught his eye. A toolbox, partially buried, lay next to the body of a colonist. Traces of dirt on the container indicated it had been covered more completely, but there were no signs of struggle. Other than the dead body, obviously.

Shepard knelt beside the box, looking inside. What was so valuable it was worth his life?

He pushed back the lid. Inside rested an older, but still highly lethal pistol. Hmm, an old Mark V Striker. Not much power, but … he checked the side-mounts, noting the safety position and the mode indicators just beside it. Cryo mod, good for taking down pirates. Good condition.

Pausing briefly, Shepard closed the colonist's eyes before sticking the sidearm to a connecting magnet on his armor. "Male, less than forty years of age," he muttered. "Some small warning, but not much. Surprise attack." His head snapped skywards, angling towards the looming spacecraft. "That means fast acceleration, really fast if he started running when the raid sirens went off."

Gunfire, muffled by the foliage, broke through the analysis. Shepard barely noticed Jenkins lift off, true to his training. He launched himself forward, while the young man took a stutter-step in mid-air, moving behind a massive tree and launching into the lower branches.

To his left, Alenko lunged forward in a crouch, sidearm raised for action. This time Shepard took the point, rifle poised.

The trees thinned as they moved, Jenkins flitting from one branch to another, changing his angle as the hill sloped downwards. Shepard could make out a taller spur of rocks farther downhill, larger than the nearby ones, and somehow more … sculpted. Long vertical grooves, odd moss growth, like part of it was polished, interesting. The positioning looks something like an old guardhouse, if there'd been a curtain wall nearby … maybe a keep?

His observations ground to a halt when the source of the gunshot sounds came into sight. Two women, one with tan skin and white Alliance armor, pistol in hand, the other appearing to be a blue-skinned advertisement for what looked like a disheveled lab coat. The armored female was dragging the blue woman, perhaps guiding her? Both looked worn down, as if they'd been running a long distance, eagerly diving behind the tall rock Shepard had just noticed, pulling behind it as tightly as possible.

Close behind them flew another drone trio, followed by a pair of bipedal platforms, operating like a well-trained squad. Of the flying group, one was flying higher than the other two, as if providing overwatch. The lower two were moving low and fast, launching rapid-fire attacks that seemed timed for alternate cooldown periods. The walking units pushed forwards, splitting up to flank the sheltering rock, a textbook assault given their target.

Shepard didn't wait. He dropped to one knee, rifle stock cuddled to his shoulder. Barely taking the time to aim, he blew apart the highest flying drone, combining a shield-breaker from his omni-tool with the high-velocity round of his rifle. Normal drones would have only needed the breaker, or the round. Not both. The thought floated through his mind, vaguely familiar. Heavy construction has benefits. Behind and above him, Jenkins launched himself into the air, carbine spraying the remaining two drones indiscriminately, draining their shields. His altitude enabled an off-angle attack, forcing the opposing units to scatter. As Shepard drew a bead on one of them, Alenko slapped his free hand forwards and down, sending a blue sphere looping around the two women. The sphere rammed into the left-most walker, sending it spiraling into the ground.

The armored woman ripped an assault rifle from her back, leaning around her cover to pour fire into the helpless construct. It exploded, sending metal shards flying.

The single remaining drone peeled off, tiny engines lighting up for a quick retreat. One of those engines fell prey to Shepard's shield-breaker, forcing it to bank drastically away from its intended course. What was left of its shields sparked as the machine made a nose dive, trying to escape. A short burst from the armored woman's rifle crushed the last drone's shell. She adjusted her aim slightly, firing one more burst, and the bipedal unit sparked into pieces. The entire session moved so quickly, he hadn't had time to properly look over the walking threats.

Still cautious, Shepard gave the wooded landscape a once over before he made his way to the rock. Alenko stayed back, watching the Commander's back while Jenkins made a feather-light landing about ten feet to his right.

"You all right, soldier?" Shepard shipped his rifle, letting it fold to his back.

"Yeah … just a little … winded." The armored woman gasped. The blue woman nodded agreement. An asari, I should have guessed. Shepard thought.

"Chief Williams has been running a great deal today," the asari spoke. Her voice was a fair alto, compared to the soldier's huskier tone, and although Shepard didn't actively focus on her, he did notice that her body structure seemed more delicate than the Alliance woman's muscled physique. He caught Jenkins staring; one glare made the younger man turn away, blushing.

The woman in question waved one arm descriptively, "Been … long … day." Her face flushed as she noticed Shepard's N7 emblem. "Um, Sir."

Waving off the salute, Shepard took a step back, letting her catch her breath. "Alpha One, Bravo One, we have hard contact. Flying and walking drones, unknown manufacturer, highly durable, smart operator. Copy?"

Static filled his earpiece for a moment, then a voice, vague through the static. "Bravo Copy … static. Can reach Alpha … humans, but ugly … can't reach …."

"Sir," Williams gasped, "More of them. Some kind of walking robots. Doc here … says they look like geth."

Shepard nodded, tapped his earpiece again. "Shepard here. We have tentative identification, watch for geth. Get the quarians input on how to fight. Do you copy?" A faint burst of static, sounding vaguely like a quarian curse, indicated he'd been heard by at least one squad. His thought was confirmed when a moment later more static filled the air, followed by a stronger broadcast. "Acknowledged geth … will retransmit to alpha team. Jørgensen out."

The asari straightened, facing him after performing a brief examination on the other woman. Shepard wasn't sure, but something flashed in her eyes, her face twisting minutely before it disappeared. Deep in his memories, something twitched, niggling for attention. "I am Doctor Liara T'Soni, a specialist in Prothean archaeology, here by invitation. Are you here for the Beacon?" The asari's body language shifted from nervousness to a more eager posture.

Shepard raised an arm to shake hands, starting to answer, but the asari apparently missed the action.

"This place is incredible!" She gushed, waving at the surrounding area. "There are so many artifacts; this one site could provenance a thousand items in a few months! I wish I could rewrite my thesis paper here, maybe a study on furthering colonial-type –"

Shepard cut her off mid-speech. "Yes, I'm here for the Beacon. We can talk about it later, if we survive." Internally he frowned. Something is off with her body language … but what exactly?

The blue face turned slightly darker purple. Blushing? Embarrassed? Here and now? Shepard shook it off, turning to the human. "Commander Shepard of the SR1 Normandy. Can you give me a sitrep?"

The dark-haired woman nodded. She seemed to have recovered. "Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, Heavy Mech Operator, 212 Division sir. We were on a light patrol, doing a fast walkabout when those – things," she shuddered, "came out of nowhere." She finally rose to her feet. "I lost damn near everybody, shields don't hold up well for some reason, and we didn't have many heavy weapons. On top of that, my power armor is back at base," she gestured at the interloper spacecraft, "on the other side of that ship thing, so I couldn't get to it."

Shepard clenched his jaw. Being cut off from essentially an extension of your body was a crippling feeling. "You managed to get here, though, and it looks like you helped Doctor T'Soni?"

The asari lit up. "Yes, I was at the dig site, taking some measurements. I ran with two others, but the geth caught up with us." Her eyes turned downwards. "I … convinced them to take cover in … what do your people call it? Bunkhouse?" Her eyes turned to Williams whom nodded confirmation, "A bunkhouse, and I tried to distract them. Chief Williams and I ran into each other, almost literally, and we ran in this direction." She shrugged. "The rest you know."

Shepard was only half-listening to the last part, a dangerous buzzing sensation in the back of his head demanding attention. Experience had taught him to listen to that sensation, a habit that had served him well in the N7 program. He angled sideways, towards the main digsite location, listening carefully. He could hear rather indelicate footsteps approaching, but they didn't sound … human. As the asari spoke, he drew his rifle, suspicious of the sound. Where's Jenkins? He's on sentry position … Shepard's eye caught a vague impression of the rookie, ogling the asari's well-filled, if torn, outfit once more. His own vision tightened on the digsite path. That's it. I'll bust him down to cadet for the next ten years!

A faint flicker showed itself along the path, unseen by the still-chattering asari and behind the Gunnery Chief. Shepard acted, lifting his rifle, dropping its stock on his shoulder in one smooth movement. As if in slow-motion, he saw the others beginning to react.

The enhanced view through his scope showed a humanoid figure made of metal, similar to the bipedal units so recently dispatched. Its head, or what would have been a head by human standards, was a cylinder strangely reminiscent of the quarian helmets he'd seen. The Naginta under his jaw jerked once, then the mechanical being spun to the ground, missing a large piece of its pseudo-head.

Whatever else they were, the group surrounding him had fast reflexes. Between the moment where Shepard had begun lifting his rifle and when he'd stroked the trigger, the Chief had moved in front of the asari, whom had generated an azure field to cover the both of them, and Lieutenant Alenko had his omni-tool sparkling with an unspent shield-breaker. Jenkins, on the other hand, had nearly toppled off his vantage point, carbine pointed vaguely in the geth's direction.

Shepard inhaled through his nose, biting his tongue. The effect had him unconsciously attain the same demeanor as a glacier. It took a great force of will to not berate the youngest addition to his squad. Mentally, he let loose a few choice words. Private Jenkins, we will be discussing your performance on the Normandy!

Commander Shepard slapped his rifle stock, pointing it at the ground. "Alenko, check out the doctor." He turned to the female Alliance soldier. "Williams, you fit to fight?"

The dark-haired woman tilted her rifle sideways, inspecting its heat sink. "Fit to fight, sir." A predatory grin graced her features. "Time to get me some payback."

He tossed her his canteen. "Get hydrated. We have a lot of ground to cover." He fished out a high-calorie packet from a pocket. "This should help your energy level too."

As the gunnery chief snatched his offerings mid-air, Shepard examined his surroundings. Constant vigilance was a key skill in field survival, part of why he was so angry with Jenkins. First he ignores the flyers, then he's busy making goo-goo eyes at the asari chick … he's going to get himself killed. A glance assured Shepard that the youngest member of his squad was now behaving with extreme care. Good. Kid has more brains than me, better use them or lose them.

He took up position ahead of the others. "Gun check, amp check." He looked directly at the asari doctor. Civilian … but she handled herself well before, maybe? He sighed. "Normally, I would tell you to get to safety, but I have to ask: Would you mind accompanying us? I'm a bit surprised to see a prothean expert here already, particularly one from Council space."

The asari had a high-energy drink from Lieutenant Alenko's personal stock in her hand, slurping it down quietly. "Yes, not half as surprised as when I received the invitation. I was already on my way back to Therum when I received the request." Her eye ridges rose and fell expressively. "Apparently, I was the closest expert on hand, and your government had just given permission."

"Mmm." Shepard swallowed a smart remark, parsing her response. Now's not the time, halfwit. Interrogate the civvie later. Fight now. "Well, like I was saying, we don't have anyone familiar with prothean technology along. It wasn't something offered at the university, surprisingly enough."

Alenko, packing his limited medical supplies, snorted. "No surprise there. Ready Commander?"

Shepard gave his two new charges a critical once over. The Gunnery Chief was looking much more alert, polishing off the last of the energy bar packet with gusto. Doctor T'Soni was looking much better as well, even fussing with the torn portions of her outfit. Definitely civilian, although obviously trained for combat. Most solo asari generally are … For some reason, this Doctor T'Soni reminded him of a Huntress instructor he'd once had. The instructor had been able to use biotics to do anything from blast through a stone wall to summon individual wires to her hand. But her mannerisms are sometimes more like that of a neophyte … strange.

"Can you fight?" Shepard asked, somewhat belatedly.

The asari held up a fist, causing it to glow brightly. "I am perfectly capable of defending myself Commander, although I would request to be dropped off at the camp. There have to be other survivors, and I would be remiss if I did not seek them out."

"Fair enough." Shepard agreed. He tapped his earpiece. "Nihlus? We found two survivors, and took down some Geth lookalikes. Continuing on to the digsite."

"Acknowledged Commander. I am headed for the digsite myself, gotta check something out."

Shepard's jaw tightened. "Be warned, Spectre. There are a lot of strange things going on right now, we do not hold the advantage. I recommend caution; wait for us at the digsite."

A dry chuckle came back over the comm signal. "Your advice is appreciated, Commander, but I'll be all right. Contact me if you see anything else."

"Understood." He frowned. "Shepard out."

The sound of clicking hardware attracted his attention. Chief Williams had disassembled her assault rifle, and was installing a disrupter modification with practiced speed. He had to admit, she was possibly faster than he was, although possibly a bit rougher about it. Disrupter tech was more sensitive than other standard modifications, due to the delicate circuitry required to add a static charge to each accelerated shaving.

The fact she could move so quickly, despite the fragile nature of her modification, spoke volumes of her experience. She looked up, possibly sensing his attention. He let one side of his mouth curl upwards. "Good thinking, we might need that."

A slightly pleased look entered her eyes, before she ducked her head. "Thanks Commander."

He sighed inwardly. Right. Back to work. Wonder what's going to happen next?

[break]

Grass-covered hills swelled on all sides of the hollow. There were no trees in that section, a fact Shepard found interesting. Water runs downhill, this would be a good source for a large plant. Something kept those trees from growing here … prothean technology? Or a lack of mineral resources? He scanned the hollow more carefully. Stone plinths, millennia old by the look of them, stood in a rough circle, worn down into tooth-like shapes by wind and time.

The ground inside the stone circle was unnaturally smooth, like obsidian, but the color of common granite. Etchings like spidery writing circled around the edges, larger swirls looping towards an indentation at the center. Shepard's eyes narrowed. It didn't take a genius to determine something was missing.

"The Beacon … where is it?" Doctor T'Soni blurted.

Shepard sighed. Why can't it ever be simple? A quick pickup and transport, or maybe a nice, trouble-free vacation on Elysium? Who cursed me and why do I live in interesting times? He tapped the side of his visor. "Spectre, the Beacon is missing. Repeat, the Beacon is missing. As geth are present, I give it a high probability that the geth have it."

A string of untranslated words issued from Shepard's earpiece, presumably not a paean lauding his virtues, such as they were. "That moves up the timetable, Shepard. I'm out of contact with the Normandy, not receiving anything from anyone over a kilometer away. Headed for the tram station now, meet me there."

"Acknowledged." Shepard slapped the connection off, and rested a moment. Now I have to chase a stupid piece of alien hardware, the function of which we do not know, and probably never will. He stood up, circling his arm to gain attention, and pointed up the trail. "Let's move out. We have a glorified coffeemaker to catch."

He heard someone repress a guffaw, but Doctor T'Soni frowned. "I do not believe the Beacon was originally designed for … ah. You are … joking?"

"Sarcasm, actually." Shepard gestured for the Gunnery Chief to precede the group. An irrepressible urge to use levity overcame him. "It's a fine line between sarcasm and irony, but I'll walk it."

[break]

Their target was beyond a hill, but it was nearly level until that place. What was on that hill however was … disturbing. The kind of thing that made nightmare material for even a seasoned soldier's lifetime.

Shepard stared. He couldn't believe his eyes … over the course of ten years of delving into the seamiest side of what humanity had to offer, very little had come close to equaling this. Bad. This is very bad. Beyond a simple raid, people don't just horizontal-crucify others for the fun of it … and they weren't even cruel about it. The Turks once crucified people, Romans and Assyrians too … but the geth? No legal reason, no feeding need … why?

He and his newly augmented squad were partially hidden by a line of bushes situated next to the boulders that seemed so common to the colony. The path ran past their feet, directly intersecting the ridge just before tall spikes forced themselves into view. Two spikes held the motionless bodies of former colonists already; the last was just now rising, bearing its gruesome load.

It took a moment before Shepard noticed a familiar looking tattoo on one of the victims' lower arm. Where have I seen that before? He took a small white square from a packet in his belt popping it into his mouth. The taste flared against his senses, soothing. Maybe it would help alleviate the bile he tasted.

"Leroy!"

Emotion filled the scream, raw like how Shepard's intestines were feeling. Who's … No, not – "Jenkins!" He bellowed, flinging an arm sideways, trying to arrest the aerial specialist.

Corporal Jenkins blasted over him, rockets flaring white in the shadows. Ignoring all protocol, he rose higher, streaking into the sky like a blue painted missile. He hung in midair, frozen in time for a split-second, looking like an avenging angel. The effect was only heightened by the expression of pure rage in his movements and the fire on his back flaring sideways like a massive pair of wings.

"Cover him!" Shepard dropped his rifle, letting it fall to the ground in favor of drawing both pistols from his belt. They snapped open, spitting fire at the synthetic forms ahead of him. It was far more inaccurate than a single side-arm, but their combined fire rate, especially on full auto, put assault rifles to shame.

Williams had lunged out with him, assault rifle roaring a basso line to his syncopated tempo. Her face bore an unappealing mixture of anger and compassion.

Shepard tossed the pistol in his right hand to the ground, whipping a grenade from his omni-tool. It flew into the geth squad, grouped around the crucified dead colonists, depleting their shields. In an instant, he dropped to one knee, scooping up his pistol, resuming fire. A blue flash behind his head let him know Kaiden was working his magic; one of the drones lifting into the air gave further confirmation. A second blue flash from the asari banished the machine into whatever afterlife it espoused.

The silence almost took him by surprise. He'd seen the last geth fall, but had somehow expected a more jarring sensation. It was a silence interrupted by the broken sobs of a man, unexpectedly bereft. It was a hard thing to watch, seeing a grown man, skilled in the art of death, reduced to such a state.

"Leroy … no …." Shepard could only watch as the youngest member of his squad came to a stop by the post holding what had once been a man. Offering comfort was … hard.

Alenko, on the other hand, moved forward, gently touching the younger man's shoulder. "I'm sorry, was he …?" His tone was soft, hardly befitting the man of war Shepard had just witnessed.

"My brother," Jenkins whispered. "I was going to surprise him with a visit today, he works at the tram station. I saw him a month ago … my God, what have they done to him?" He flared his rockets again, this time much more carefully than his earlier burst. His pace slowed as he reached the top of the spike, giving him time to look at what was left. The jets hummed mournfully under his manipulation, quavering in time with his barely-suppressed sobs.

The young man studied the still form atop the spike, tears streaking through the mud staining his face. Almost violently, he pulled the body up, off the spike and then lowered it to the ground.

Shepard said nothing. The body, once Caucasian in color, now had a deep blue appearance, the tattoo fading into the darkened flesh. White wires, glowing with energy crisscrossed the body haphazardly. The entire body looked emaciated, as if it had desiccated under the sun for months with even the hair reduced to a few lost strands.

"Jenkins …" Shepard tried to warn him.

The young man glared down at him defiantly. "He's my brother! You may have lost your family a while back Commander, but I lost him less than a minute ago!"

The words almost made Shepard stumble. It had been years since Mindoir, but the pain was always present. He must have let something slip, when he saw a strange expression on Chief Williams face. He ignored it.

A gasping moan came from the blue body startled them all. Jenkins leaned over the body closely, seizing its shoulders. "Leroy! Can you hear me? It's Richard!"

Hair on the back of Shepard's neck rose. That body doesn't look human any more. Its eyes are open, but there's nothing actually looking out of them.

The body twitched, and then shuddered spasmodically. The Corporal clung to the body, trying to restrain its movements.

"Goddess …" Shepard heard the asari mumble behind his back. So, she returned. He had to agree, sending an additional silent plea for guidance.

Jenkins suddenly jerked back, screaming. Electricity arced from the glistening wires, sapping Shepard's shields even at distance. The effect on Jenkins was much more severe, cutting through his shields like a soap bubble. The shock released his grip on one arm, setting it free. The arm swung upwards, striking Jenkins across the throat, raking its claws into the skin. Jenkins flew backwards, one of the rockets detonating under the overstressed systems. The force of the explosion tossed Jenkins over the ridge out of sight.

With an outraged cry, Alenko swept his arm in a hammering gesture. The body, a mere husk of the man it once was, flattened, head crushed beyond recognition.

Shepard leaped over the still convulsing body, bounding over the top of the hill in full pursuit of the Corporal. He dimly heard Alenko shouting into his earpiece, warning the other two teams. I should have stopped him, could have stopped him. Shepard spotted Jenkins laying half-way down the hill, trapped between a boulder and a mass of fallen rubble.

"Commander!"

Chief William's voice didn't slow Shepard's steps. Her spray of assault rifle fire caught his attention though, directing it towards more geth on the flat slope beneath the hill. More of the blue ex-colonists were rising from spikes, emitting the strange howling noise Jenkins former brother had been screaming.

Shepard tucked into a shoulder roll. What was it ... shell? Husk? Hmm, that will do for the report. Until I get something better, anyway. He peeked from cover, spotting a likely target. Reaching back yielded nothing, shocking him for a moment. Then he remembered dropping his rifle at the top of the hill. Stupid, slow Shepard! That's what you get for leaping before you look. He drew one pistol, studying the situation. A half-dozen husks were lurching up the path, while geth forced him to stay down with long-range fire. It was an excellent strategy, he had to admit, even if it was at his expense. Ah well. Nothing for it but to bite the bullet. His hand tensed, swinging the death-dealing device into position.

The sound of footsteps crunching the stones on the path changed his focus briefly. He angled up the path, but redirected upon seeing the asari hurrying towards him. Alenko and Williams were flanking her, throwing suppressing fire past Shepard's boulder.

Ah. Failure to plan requires assistance, apparently. He gave a minute shrug. At least you won't have to put yourself at higher risk by going solo, like Kryik.

Taking advantage of the distraction the presence of his squad provided, Shepard launched a sabotage charge at the leading husk. It stumbled, glowing as if it had short-circuited something in its brain. Not bad. He tapped the override control, setting up a second sabotage charge before the initial bursts's cool-down finished. The second charge forced another husk to its knees, where Chief Williams was more than able to gun it into pieces.

Shepard winced. A blue chunk had reached his side of the rock, rolling like a thing made of metal, not flesh. A clattering noise drew his attention to the sniper rifle, lying at his side. The grinning mouth, set in the blue face of the asari doctor made a nice contrast to what he'd been watching. He smiled back, seizing the weapon. "Thanks."

She pointed at several trailer-shaped bunkhouses. "I left them in there, I have to check!"

He shrugged in return. She was a big girl, and could make her own decisions, stupid though they might be. "I can't guarantee your safety. There's no Beacon here, but I'm sure the Alliance could use your expertise when we find it."

The asari made an unfamiliar hand gesture. "I worked with these people, I'm responsible for them." Still, she looked reluctant to leave, almost torn, if Shepard was reading her body language correctly. "Call me when you find it? I've wanted to see one my entire life!"

"You'll be the second one I call." Shepard promised. "After I report it."

A brilliant smile made him almost wish it hadn't been a combat setting, and then she was gone, flitting over the rocks in an effervescent blur. Eyes on the target, Shepard. Ignore the scenery!

Sniper rifles came in many different categories. The better ones, in Shepard's opinion, were designed to drill through tank armor. Blowing holes through an engine was a highly efficient method for stopping mobile transports. A sufficiently accurate sniper, using such a weapon, could command an entire battlefield, holding back an armor rush that would otherwise overwhelm an infantry battle line; he'd learned that through experience on Torfan.

However, a lighter model, faster firing, could wreak havoc against infantry. While it did little against a krogan or a transport, it could force an entire infantry company to stay down. The Naginta line was especially effective in that line of work. And he had one.

An unholy glee bubbled just under Shepard's controlled expression. The Naginta felt delicate in his grasp, like a flower, scope expanding from the stock end. The omni-tool activated on his wrist, giving him quick-access to the personnel radar. After a quick glance at the screen, he acceded to the weapon's demand.

Crosshairs moved in front of his eyes, intersecting over the scene the radar had relayed to him. A husk, ambling up the path at a deceptively fast pace became his first victim. Two rounds struck just below what had once been its jugular, shredding everything they touched.

Without a spotter, Shepard wasted several valuable seconds checking his kill before moving on. His next target, a geth unit, received three rapid-fire rounds, two to rupture its shields, one to separate the flashlight from its supporting column. And that's why metal works only to a certain point, boys and girls. Slows you down, doesn't stop a higher power gun.

Shepard wished he could bring one of the more powerful Anti-Material rifles to bear, but those were simply too heavy for anyone but a krogan to wield freehand. The more massive constructs were normally mounted on tanks or transports, used to command danger zones from relatively safe positions. He'd heard rumors of asari commandos carrying them, but the idea of an asari toting a thirty kilo gun in addition to a normal kit was … unlikely.

Still. One of them could have blasted a geth with one shot. No mods.

He hesitated when his crosshairs swept over a turian of all things. It wasn't Nihlus, but he was no civilian either. The geth ignored his presence, even moved out of the way in some cases. He must have a really powerful IFF device. Or he's working with them …? No, ridiculous notion.

The crosshairs skimmed past the cranial fringe, plugging holes into a larger geth platform just past the turian's shoulder. It was a show-off maneuver, what his old instructor would have called a brag shot. Aiming so close to a friendly, in order to remove a foe, took skill. From the twitching faceplates, Shepard knew the turian was well aware of it as well.

"Shepard, I interrogated a civilian. The Beacon has been moved to the colony proper. Are you near the tram station?" The turian Spectre's voice, occluded by static, pierced through the sound of gunfire.

"Fighting our way through, Spectre." Shepard shouted. "Watch out for blue human thingies. Husks."

The voice came back. "Yes, I took down a few myself. Watch yourself, they are significantly stronger than a normal human."

"Got it. Shepard out." He pulled a bead on yet another geth unit, this one twitching as if it had downloaded a dance marathon program. "Who hit the geth, low right?"

"Me." Alenko's tenor came back. "Sabotage charge, must have lost shields already."

One shot, and the decapitated mechanical structure collapsed. "Excellent choice. We'll have to remember that trick."

"Commander! Behind you!"

Shepard spun. He saw a shadowy movement, and instinctively threw his rifle up in a parry. The weapon burst into pieces, cutting his face. Stumbling back from the force, he just barely missed being hit by a follow up strike. Where's a sword when you need one? The increased distance allowed him to see his attacker, another husk. The blue monster leaped, heedless of its own safety. Its legs wrapped around Shepard's chest, driving him backwards into the boulder, arms flailing in a savage beating.

Each blow rocked Shepard harder than he could remember being hit. Of course, if I got hit this hard in the past, I probably lost memory due to concussion. It was all he could do, fending off the blows with the forearm guards; striking back while in such a disadvantaged position would be … ill advised. His pistol was dropped again, and he couldn't reach its partner, tucked under the husk's leg. He didn't think the thing would respond to a polite request. Nothing for it.

He glanced around, blocking the powerful, albeit clumsy strikes; Alenko was exchanging fire with at least two geth units, and Chief Williams was nowhere in sight. The asari had her back turned, fending off a trio of husks. At least there are no witnesses.

Making the necessary motions in his glove while fending off an opponent that seemed to have the strength of a demon was very difficult. Impossible, by some standards. No. Not impossible Just hard as— there we go!

The contacts inside his gloves opened, unleashing the latent potential built into all NightStalker armor sets. Unlike power armor, the 'mechs' used by heavy marine specialists, the NightStalker had an intricate network of Element Zero nodules. The nodes ran along nanofiber wires, placed throughout the suit in mimicry of the human nervous system. The result was a hideously expensive method for artificially copying biotics.

The glow emitted from his gauntlet wasn't the soft blue he'd witnessed Lieutenant Alenko use. Nor was it the more powerful blaze that he'd seen Doctor T'Soni's palms emit.

No, this display had a much more mechanical look, a harsh white discharge that was tinged with blue around its penumbra. The simple warp technique his armor imitated, used to destabilize armor structure by biotics throughout the galaxy, had none of the subtlety a natural biotic would have attained. This warp disintegrated the husk's torso, leaving a pair of arms and legs to fall on the ground.

Shepard seized his dropped weapon, spinning it once, checking the rotation for wobble. It was a fast-and-ugly trick, but adequate for most circumstances. It landed cleanly, just in time for him to snap off a quick Mozambique drill{, dropping another husk in its tracks. He smiled. Old sarge was right; Two to the chest, one to the head, makes a bad-guy good and dead.

The sudden quiet, a familiar experience yet still jarring, met his ears. Shepard accepted the quiet nod of approval Alenko gave him, and gave one of his own to the Gunnery Chief across the way. She appeared to have gone hand-to-hand with a geth, and was now cleaning white hydraulic fluids from her boot knife.

"What kind of knife is that?" Shepard noted stab wounds in the geth unit's ocular portion, and what appeared to be severed hydraulics.

"Reichtan, modern copy," the woman answered. The blade slipped into her boot. "Get enough force in the right place, and you could take down a krogan with one of these."

Laughing felt too forced, so Shepard gave her a smile. I have to remember to keep another knife myself, especially if these husk things are going to be around more often. His thoughts turned to the weapons he'd stashed in various caches. Mmm, I got options. Maybe later.

That was only a distraction though, and he knew it. Reluctantly, he turned towards what had once been a brave man

Jenkins' body lay near the bottom of the hill, a footstep and an infinity away from Shepard. Too many. I can't remember how many have died, their faces are a blur. Shepard sank to one knee, gently closing the young man's eyes. I use the same hand to kill the shell of a man, to say farewell to another shell. Why them? Jenkins had so much potential.

He could feel a presence behind him, and smelled a faint scorch of ozone. He kept his voice low, almost whispering. "Rest easy, soldier. I'll take it from here."

Raising his voice, he acknowledged the man behind him. "We'll give him a proper burial later. For now … we have to move on."

"Yessir." Alenko didn't ask any questions. From what Shepard had seen, the man had been through a great deal himself. "Sir? That ship is taking off."

Shepard looked up, watching the massive construct rise into the sky. The same red lightning continued to play around its superstructure. The Normandy was still out of contact, and the colony had nothing large enough to repel the monstrosity, despite it being a colony numbering in the millions. He followed the ship's progress, watching its Mass Effect field warp the cloud layers into hollow rings. Bet that's going to change in the next few months.

[break]

The tram line was almost literally a dump. Crates littered the sidewalks, scattered in no recognizable pattern. Shepard saw one body stretched behind the crates, apparently crushed when a pile had toppled. Why anyone would have stacked heavy crates, and then hidden underneath them was beyond him, though.

Quick movement caught his attention. "Spectre. Glad you could make it."

The turian seemed to do a quick headcount. "Jenkins?"

Shepard shook his head once, roughly. "Recognized a husk. Rushed ahead." He could see Alenko's jaw tighten. Williams body language didn't change at all. Understandable, she'd just lost her entire company.

Nihlus simply nodded. "My apologies, Commander. He had promise."

The somewhat familiar form of the asari doctor joined the discussion. "Commander Shepard?" She tried to meet his eyes, something difficult as he kept watch around the station. "Thank you for helping us. I was able to reach some of the locals, and while they were not in the best of condition, they are alive."

"My pleasure, Doctor T'Soni. Will you be accompanying us, or staying here?" Shepard asked distractedly. Something was wrong. He could sense it. Where's the Beacon? If not here … did that ship take it? If not … why were they here?

"Actually, a ship is coming for me. My contract runs out next month but …" The researcher heaved a vexed sigh. "The situation here won't let me get to work until well after the contract has expired."

The turian looked at her sharply. "Doctor T'Soni? Related to Matriach Benezia?"

Apparently, the woman is known. Why? No. Don't think about it. You have enough mysteries without getting into Spectre business. Shepard reached for his rifle, only to drop his hand uselessly. It had been destroyed rather thoroughly by the husk … a move he could have countered easily with a simple chunk of metal.

"My mother, actually. I haven't spoken with her in years, my work has been very time-consuming."

Shepard's head twisted around at that. Ignore your own mother? Sad. He ruthlessly crushed a sense of homesickness. Work now. Grieve later. Brainless git.

"May I come with you, Commander?"

That came out of left field. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Shepard forced a polite expression.

The asari gave him a hopeful look. "I asked if I could come with you, to see the Beacon. Intact Prothean technology is an incredible find, and if the Geth moved it, I would like to verify its safety."

Shepard looked at Alenko with a raised eyebrow. The Lieutenant gave him a Gallic shrug. Your call, his eyes seemed to say.

The turian Spectre, however, had no compunction. "I don't think that would be a good idea, Doctor T'Soni. If anything happened to you—"

Shepard considered. Turian isn't in charge of this mission, but he does have experience. What does the asari say?

T'Soni did not disappoint. "'Happen to me?' You mean, 'My career would be over if I was seen as responsible for scratching 'the T'Soni heir'" Her arms folded across her chest. Shepard couldn't help but notice his concentration slip with that action. "I have trained for fifty years under the best tutors available. I've also defended myself when out on digsites, from overly amorous drunkards to artifact thieves. I can handle myself, thank you very much!"

That's it. She's strangely timid, then confident. Why?

Shepard glanced at the sun. Time was moving, and he needed to be. "Enough. The doc goes with us." He caught the smug grin. "But you stay close, doctor. No sense getting reckless." He pointed at the body of Jenkins, peacefully laying under the shade of a few trees. "Even the best of us can get hit by accident."

The asari followed his finger, grimacing a little at the sight. "Understood, Commander."

He walked over, kneeling respectfully. "Sorry, Jenkins. The lady needs these more than you do."

Once his hands were full, he tossed some of the equipment to the asari. Then, while no one was looking, Shepard broke off one of the fallen soldier's dog tags, slipping it into his pocket. He didn't mention it to anyone. The fallen deserved respect, and would receive it, if only in private.

[break]

The tram line was infested with geth. Without his long rifle, Shepard was forced to rely on the trick shots he'd learned during his early undercover years. Precision hits punctured weak points of the geth shields, followed by a flurried barrage by both pistols to obscure their vision. Multiple hits just in front of the eyepiece tended to make even a geth pause for a moment.

One geth popped its head up overly long, holding its assault rifle in an extended burst. The action reminded Shepard of a bodyguard stint he'd done, when boredom had threatened to destroy his mind.

Shepard took a single rapid glance, committing the positions to memory, then stuck both pistols over the edge. Muscle memory combined with the visual layout resulted in an expensive piece of scrap metal falling to the deck.

Had he been concentrating slightly less on the geth, he would have seen both the turian and Chief Williams watching him carefully.

"Shepard, 'ware right!" Alenko shouted.

Shepard knee-walked to the indicated side, and stuck his head up for a fast burst. The omni-tool was nearly fried, what with how many times he'd overridden its cool-down function but it still was able sap the geth's shields.

Alenko tossed a blue orb over his own target, a larger Destroyer model, keeping it busy with an inaccurate spray of high-velocity rounds. His orb struck a loose piece of metal, pulling it back towards himself.

Physics stipulated that the change in velocity of a moving object, combined with the added impetus of the tram's initial motion, made a significant dent in whatever was struck.

The bar, already loosened, broke free to jam itself into the geth Destroyer's shields. They had not been designed for such debris, and while successful in cushioning the initial blow, were unable to deflect it entirely. The metal severed a stabilizing component, toppling the geth unit sideways just as they passed a river.

The splash couldn't be seen, but it was the effort that counted.

On the far side of the tram, Shepard nodded to Doctor T'Soni. Liara. She asked you to call her Liara. The asari twitched an arm, launching a geth unit into the air. Shepard tapped his omni-tool, sapping its shields; a moment later, Chief Williams unleashed an overcharged blast from her shotgun. The hapless geth unit intercepted the shot with its chest, losing most of it in the process.

Williams tapped the heat sink, making it hiss open. "Good shot Commander."

Shepard gave her a two-fingered salute. That had been the last geth unit, he hoped. The towers of the main colony were coming into view, and he didn't want to be fighting on two fronts.

The omni-tool sparked on his wrist, the specialized software launching a warning shock into his wrist. It was smoking at the edges, so Shepard took the message carefully; death by omni-tool would be a rather ignominious end after the day's events.

The message was short and to the point. Green letters scrolled across the orange screen slowly, in the mode that denied recovery:

Pendragon. The Furies are moving quickly, something has them spooked. I am tracking two in Alliance space, but I suspect more are off my grid. The STG is following suit, easier to track in one case, which worries me. I suggest checking Republics/Alliance portfolios, especially for major purchases or inheritance activations. Emrys

Shepard groaned quietly. The towers were coming up quickly, he had no time for this! He tapped the response code, then his reply:

Busy. Beacon stolen on Eden Prime. Geth. Rifle smashed. Will investigate as able.

The screen vanished as soon as he hit the accept. No one seemed to have noticed. Not that such a view would be taken as given; sneaky people were sneaky after all.

"Commander … we have a problem."

This time, Shepard was able to contain his dismay. Now what? A parade of elephants in our way? He bit his tongue. "Understood, Lieutenant. Specify."

"Ah," Alenko rubbed the back of his head. "There appears to be a welcome party …"

Shepard nodded. The silhouette of geth units could be seen, walking around the tram platform. "Cover and prep for an assault." Somewhat vague, but should be good enough for now.

He glanced at his allies. Alenko had moved, so his back was braced against a thick metal beam, concentrating on his omni-tool. The minifacturing plant whirred to life, producing a grenade in seconds. Omni-gel blocks, the general-purpose material found in a plethora of hardware, slid into the contraption slowly; miniature versions of the massive construction facilities found on more developed worlds.

Behind another, thinner plate of sheet metal, Chief Williams had a slightly less industrious manufacturing process going. She sat with one leg crossed, assault rifle unfolded and ready for action at her side. While the omni-tool's minifacturer was operating, its owner moved more slowly as she kept an eye on the geth lines.

Liara, on the other hand, was expressing unusual body language. It had been Shepard's experience that people hid what their face said, but forgot their greater mass often told the truth. Actors and biotics were much better at concealing their intentions, due to a higher physical awareness. Trying to read eye movements or brow twitches was pointless, so he focused on her body. Her tensed limbs screamed: what am I doing here? Her loose hands, however, spoke of extensive biotic training, a constant level of preparedness.

Makes sense. He grunted mentally. Pretty girl, on digsites, has to be prepared for attack. Don't actually know if she's pretty, but she's female … ish.

"Shepard."

The turian Spectre's hissed warning brought him back to the front. He crouched, watching the warning sensors on his HUD blink red. He blinked. "There's something else there, not moving."

Nihlus grunted. "Someone else is here, this isn't geth tactics. If I see something, I'm going after them."

That gave Shepard pause. Geth are bad enough, but this confirms it. The Spectre's statement was informative … not exactly a request for permission, more of a statement of intent. He gave a grunt of his own; more than he gave me on the Normandy.

"Alright, but keep your eyes open." He shared a long look with the alien. For a change, he could recognize the expression; brooding worry.

The tram came to a full stop, geth on both sides. Shepard noted Alenko did not move, but Chief Williams switched her position to one affording slightly better angles. He waited, watching their flanks for several tense seconds. The clanking footsteps approached, getting closer. Shepard noted the maps positioning become fuzzy as the Geth jamming systems engaged, and gave a hand signal.

They exploded into action. Alenko and Williams each launched their grenades in a miniature bombardment, centering their spread on the HUD map's former positions, while Shepard did a quick visual check.

Nihlus lobbed a grenade of his own, landing it perfectly between two geth. It detonated in lightning bolts, shorting out the geth with minimal fuss. Something seemed to catch the turian's eye. He snarled, uncharacteristically. "I see someone Commander. Pursuing; cover me!"

Shepard pulled out his second pistol. Ha. They told me this was a useless tactic. Never been in my situation, have they? One second was all he needed to settle the twin barrels, and open fire. Seven seconds until overheat, so pause at six, resume two seconds later. He let the barrels cool a moment, then resumed a six second barrage. Heh, closer to six point five that time. Good.

Risking another look, he saw the back of the Spectre disappear through a maze of cargo containers. Then he was forced to duck before another geth put his eye out.

He thought he'd seen the static object, though, and it was not good. "We have husks incoming!" he warned. "Geth are falling back!"

Forewarned, and now better experienced, his squad was more than capable of holding off the melee-heavy monsters. The lack of continued geth support started tingling Shepard's paranoia, though. Why aren't they pushing? They have superior numbers, enough to take on a full colony … what's going on?

The fight led around a causeway, petering out as they traveled deeper into the colonial city proper. The spikes he'd seen turn humans into husks were strewn around the streets like discarded garbage. Dark colored stains permeated their surfaces, multiple items littered the ground. Shepard stooped, kneeling on one knee. Dear God, no ….

"Commander?" Lieutenant Alenko turned back towards him, then stopped. "We should … good Lord …"

Shepard touched a small stuffed bear, lying on the ground next to one of the spikes. Its stuffing was well crushed, the fur worn down from use. It still had both of its eyes, but the thread was of different colors, indicating repairs. He looked up at the spike, now retracted, inanimate. Ashes, reminiscent of the ancient pyres, seemed gathered around the toy. Pieces of cloth, the durable sort used for manual labor garb lay in shreds next to the teddy bear … why, Shepard didn't want to know.

He looked down again, gently stroking the toy between its ears. Bits of dirt fell from its fur, some stuck by a dried brown substance. Shepard's finger shook when it encountered that.

Lightly, softly, he picked up the well-loved toy, placing it inside a carry-all detached from his back. The container reattached to his armor with a click, toy safely inside. Before moving on however, he stepped up to the spike, tapping its side lightly. Metal rang quietly under his fist, indifferent to his actions.

He stared at it with an equal lack of emotion. "That," he said quietly, "was a mistake."

Ignoring the contraption, Shepard stalked onwards. It wasn't the sauntering movements he'd been using before. It was a nearly indiscernible change, but it was there.

His squadmates respected his silence. Alenko raised one hand in a commiserating gesture. Shepard noticed, however, that both the biotic and the gunnery chief's movements were more predatory as well, mirroring Shepard's. Liara however … Liara? Hang it all, where did she go? Shepard checked his map. The dot for her position was still several dozen feet back, rapidly catching up. He looked back as she trotted up to them.

"My apologies, "she said."I needed to re-do my boot strap."

Shepard pursed his lips. "Let us know next time." He glanced at the spike. Tourists.

[break]

The trail ended a quarter-mile later, the large red dot now filling their displays. Shepard sagged inside his armor, letting the supports hold him in place. No … just … ten kinds of negative. Denial. Refusal.

"That's a big bomb." Alenko commented.

Shepard blinked. The body of Nihlus Kryik lay on the ground at his feet; it had consumed his attention to the point where he'd missed the big mother-loving nuclear warhead! He sighed. I am not going to like the after-action on this mission.

"Right then." He forced his anger back in check with a quick breathing exercise. "Alenko, start working on that thing. Williams, keep a lookout. Liara, do you know anything about timers?"

The asari's wide eyes gazed at the construct. "Um, only if they are a few thousand years old."

"Great." Shepard rubbed his forehead, the visor preventing his gauntlet from reaching his eyes. "Well, help Chief Williams than. I'll see what I can do with this."

He moved up next to the Lieutenant, pulling a set of lockpicks from his belt. The biotic raised his eyebrows, but didn't react otherwise.

"Looks like it's set for another ten minutes," Shepard commented. "Any dummy leads?"

Alenko twisted his hand into a bundle of wires. "Three. I'm tracing them."

Activating his own omni-tool, Shepard began a similar trace. The tool sputtered, giving sparks off his arm, then faded completely. Finally died. Great. Perfect timing.

"Tool is out," he informed his counterpart. "Switching to manual."

"Already on the main line, follow my trace." Alenko wedged his knife into the depths of the bomb, letting the omni-tool have a better view at its innards. A faint red light wound its way through the device, following the man's wrist.

"On it. Shepard began separating the wires surrounding the indicated wire."Think this will be good or bad for the ol' resume?"

Alenko chuffed out a laugh. "Good. Saving the colony? Doing what a Spectre couldn't? Can't see a downside to this. Except for … you know."

"Yeah." Shepard disconnected several links to the explosive core. A nuclear weapon. Good thing I have at least some training there …. "Glad you can see the bright side of things, Lieutenant."

"Call me Kaidan. It's the least I can do for someone who's up to his elbows in the same bomb I'm working on." The biotic's dry delivery was amusing, if nothing else. Probably what he's going for, nice.

"Fine; call me Shepard." He took a moment to test a panel, "First name's Karl, but there were five Karl's in my training unit. Only Shepard though, so it stuck."

"Right. Good to meet you Shepard. I have to ask, do you come to this place often?"

Shepard's laugh was cut off by a screaming noise from one side. He exchanged a quick look with Alenko, then pulled his arms free. "Last step, better solo anyway. Got it?"

"I have it." Kaiden selected one of Shepard's lockpick tools, a micro-fusion device, and dove back into the bomb. His muffled voice came out of its depths, metallic sounding. "Go give 'em hell for disturbing my lunch hour."

Repressing a snort, Shepard took to his heels.

Following the noise took little effort. Two voices were involved, the asari and Chief William's respectively. The latter appeared to be cursing profoundly, displaying an intimate knowledge of multiple languages. From what he could hear, the former sounded as if she were delivering instructions on how to deliver a baby … something Shepard had experienced once, to his regret.

Coming around the corner, he saw one of the most bizarre things he'd ever seen in his life. Holy guacamole …

Chief Williams was slowly sliding across the concrete, holding onto the asari doctor's boot with both hands. Her own legs were rising into the air, pointing directly at the Beacon, which was pulsing a green light. Green mist slowly rolled out of the machine's side, not a good operation indicator, if Shepard was any judge.

Liara caught sight of Shepard. Her panicked eyes caught onto his. "Commander! Help me!"

Her hands clutched at the smooth surface, trying to gain a grip on the surface. To his surprise, actual grooves were slowly being dragged into the surface … then he saw a faint glow at her fingertips. Warp technique, on a very controlled level. Impressive.

"Are you just gonna' stand there or are you going to help us?" Williams bellowed at him. Her face was red from exertion, and possibly embarrassment. Mech drivers were usually the immobile support, not the ones clutching for a rescue.

"Hang on Miss T'Soni, this could hurt." Shepard jogged forwards, then crouched, putting one knee on the asari's back. She hissed under the pressure, but didn't stop her efforts, to her credit. The added weight stopped her backwards slide, but didn't appear to help Williams at all.

Shepard stretched, seizing William's hands and yanked back, using his weight and superior upper body strength to wrestle her back to the ground. She moved sluggishly, as if being dragged from a mud pit. To counter it, Shepard extended the combat cleats of his armor. They shot down, digging into the concrete firmly.

A firmer stance allowed him to heave Williams out of the way, only for Liara to squawk as she began sliding backwards herself.

Shepard growled, releasing the catches inside his gloves. He strained against the pressure, digging both boots into the crumbling material, putting his back into it. One hand gripped Williams by the collar, the other seized the asari doctor's light-armored shoulder.

In a herculean effort, Shepard lifted both women while sinking to his knees. Pressure, pulling back on his body intensified; whatever the Beacon was, it wanted one of them, and with great desire it seemed. Shepard gritted his teeth. Not again, not another if I have anything to do about it! The contacts inside his glove caught, and fired.

Pure white energy erupted from his palms, biotic pulses gauged for destruction this time flinging his charges forwards. He knew they would need medical attention, but they would live. The alternative was to allow them to fall prey to the … Beacon. Behind him.

The effort increased, pulling Shepard's feet upwards and out of their grooves. The forces slowly spun Shepard to face the Beacon, lifting him higher.

"Shepard!" One of the women, Williams by the sound of it, was screaming at him. "Liara! Do something! Use biotics!"

"I cannot, not so close to the Beacon," Liara's voice came back. "It might react, look at that eezo leak!"

Shepard managed a tight grin. "Good … fight …" he grunted. Hopefully, they would hear and not blame themselves for the predicament. Who would've guessed an archaic junkpile could activate like this?

Frenzied shouting bleached from his mind. An ancient pressure poked at his mind, like a headache that asked permission … without leaving time to refuse.


Fleeing civilians, inhuman joints bending against the mode, cries of terror. Too many to count, too many to hear. Millions of voices crying out for salvation. Nothing could be done.

Vengeance. Burning, powerful, vengeance. Nothing would hinder the destruction of the very stars to repay—

He struggled against the emotion. It felt like rage incarnate, the impotent fury of a caged monster. Somehow, it called to the deeply hidden anger he'd kept securely for years, fanning its embers into life.

Massive ... hidden in Most Secret –

Shepard snarled. My head! Stay out!

The pressure ignored him.

Countless … gone. The … remained still, dedicating their awesome intellect towards … that –

Images seared across his eyes. Things that simultaneously didn't exist showed their presence with undeniable force.

An incredibly gigantic construct, shaped like an aquatic arthropod, reached hungrily to devour. To consume that which had been sown. Reapers of the harvest, taking that which had been planted.

A last scream of rage, primal, reaching into the very soul. Shepard found himself joining its bellow, seeking to rend that monstrous obscenity.

We defy you. To our dying breath.

Shepard felt something finally break against his mind, and the pressure died out. The world spun, fading into clarity; blue sky, gray concrete, blue fingers and a concerned blue face. Maybe I'm becoming like Rembrandt? Everything in one color … bomb. Remember the bomb! Get to it!

He felt the ground press against his side, and pushed against it, rebelling this time against his own frailties. The world spun again, forcing him to crawl. The sky darkened, driving his head towards the ground. Bomb, must stop bomb!

Boots rang impossibly loud. Big boots. Military boots. An overly loud voice. "Commander, we got it! It's disarmed! Shepard? Shepard!"

Safe. Shepard collapsed, finally giving in to the swirling gray. It claimed him.


A/N: This particular chapter took me almost 2 months to write, and had a full rewrite for the last half. I've been going progressively off canon, but trying to stay close enough to be familiar; something that is changing a bit as the story continues.

I'd like to take this moment to give a shout-out to another work I have collaborated with: Dawn of Titans. It's a Mass Effect/Endwar crossover fic, co-written by F13D, Andotrota and myself. Sorry I can't put in a hyperlink here, but has changed the system a little since I started writing, over a year ago now ... wow.

Special note: The name Lieutenant Jørgensen is named for Morgan Løuise Jørgensen, the protagonist of Feathers in the Night, by Schadenfreude95, and used with permission by the same. Hope to see more from this author :)

Thank you for your kind attention. Until next time!