"What have we got Joker?" Shepard asked the moment he set foot in the cockpit.

"A shit-show. A big, old shit-show."

"Looks like half the quarian fleet's here."

"That'd be my guess."

"Is that," Garrus entered the cockpit, hot on Shepard's heels. "Is that the Perugia?"

"Holy shit. You're right." Shepard answered. "That's Hackett's ship! What the hell is he doing here?"

"Something big is going on."

"No kidding. They found something on Haestrom. Dedicating a battalion and the flee..." A slender, tadpole shaped ship careened into view, guns blazing against the geth fighters.

"That's a salarian ship. Scanners identified it as Wordort Doralana plus, you know, twenty more names." Joker exclaimed.

"He's gathering power, influence, and allies to pit against the Reapers." All three of the men jumped a bit, startled by Miranda's sudden appearance. They'd been enraptured with the battle and oblivious to all else. "Dammit. I wish he'd trust Cerberus. We're on the same side. Why can't he see that?"

"You have any idea why they're out here?" Shepard pressed. Curious at how much the terrorist organization had on Anderson.

"No. Honestly, we didn't even know about the quarians joining the treatise."

"He mentioned Cerberus knew he was preparing for the Reapers. I guess I'm… curious. You must have more on the man."

"Hm. Well, I suppose trust goes both ways. I was only apprised of the Zeta Cell thanks to your affiliation with Anderson – it wasn't my project. They infiltrated one of his shipyards, gathering intel and sending necessary materials. The schematics suggested he's attempting to build a fleet of stealth ships, far more advanced than the Normandy. Our intentions were altruistic. I'd swear my life on it. But our agents were rooted out and executed anyhow. He wouldn't even entertain negotiations."

"Was he successful? With the ships I mean."

"Maybe he will be in eight years or so. The project is a far cry from complete. And time is not on our side. He needs help. This aversion he has to Cerberus borders on hysteria."

Haestrom's dingy, yellow atmosphere came into view, the hazey light pervaded through the cockpit's windows signaling that the time for discussion had ended. Shepard hit the intercom. "Ground-team, it's go time. Grab your gear and be ready for inspection in the shuttle bay."

Mordin supplied them with a spray-on substance that dried into a reflective mylar strong enough to withstand Dholen. There was nothing to be done about kinetic shielding, but at least their guns wouldn't morph into blighted, metal clubs or something equally useless. All their gear was now coated in the stuff. And everyone had polarized helmets to ward their eyes against the reflection.

However, their omni-tools would be defunct on the planet. Anderson offered a supply of lead-lined boxes – same as the ones granted to the tech-team, but it would be a moot point and an additional weight to carry. Omni-tools couldn't be used unless they were in a shielded area. As a result, he chose to leave Kasumi behind. She'd be more a liability than an asset without her tricks. And even if they chose to go the way of the quarian tech team, dragging a few, sacred omni-tools along in heavy boxes, she couldn't hack geth. It seems that ability was constrained to the quarian species. Another reminder of how badly he needed Tali on his team. Miranda was their sole biotic, so she definitely needed to come along. But other than that, he only had Zaeed, Jacob, and Garrus – who was right about him being short-handed. The turian was one of his heaviest hitters. He needed Garrus.

Shepard consulted Dr. Chakwas about Garrus's vertigo treatment and she insisted it was solid. The only catch was, it was a one-mission crutch. There were health consequences should he use the medicine long term, but it would work for the interim. All-in-all it'd be less intense than Alenko's migraines. Which always made him a little wary about taking the man in the field. Better he train the next generation of biotics than get himself, and his talents, blown up because he was busy puking with his head in the dirt when a firefight broke out.

Still, he was worried. Garrus was not coping well – with his injuries or the loss of his squad. The AI kept him apprised of his crew's well being, and its last report indicated that Vakarian was barely sleeping, drinking well into the wee hours of the morning. He was still functional – the Normandy's armaments were calibrated with incredible precision. The man was on the top of his game in that respect. But he was concerned about throwing him into the thick of it. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the turian then set off to ready himself.

Shepard and his squad landed to the distant beat of gunfire. True to Anderson's warnings, the shuttle had to be abandoned once they were 3000ft AGL (Above Ground Level.) Thankfully, whomever remained were keeping the geth occupied and the synthetics didn't detect them.

As soon as their boots touched ground, they made for the rendezvous point. It was the coordinates of the last known location for the battalion, and where they were to meet up with Anderson's marine detachment. Who turned out to be none other than Captain – now Major – Kirrahe, along with several familiar faces from the Third Infiltration Regiment. They exchanged greetings while they waited for the remaining troops to land. Considering they were in a fortified bunker, far back from the battery's line, they could relax for a moment.

"Ah, Commander! Anderson said we'd be fighting together again. I almost didn't believe my horns."

"Kirrahe! Good to see you. Wish it were under more pleasant circumstances."

"You and I have different definitions then. I see nothing but hope all around us."

"Pardon me for pointing out the obvious, but our shields were obliterated by the time we hit solid ground and we passed at least sixty bodies on our way to this bunker. I'm a far cry from jolly."

"The old man didn't say why we're here did he?"

"Care to share?"

Kirrahe croaked. Eyes scanning the horizon as he considered the request. Garrus sidled up beside him and they too exchanged greetings, clasping one another's wrist. The sight of yet another familiar face seemed to solidify the salarian's decision. "I don't like men running into the fire without knowing why. And you'll find out soon enough. Keeping it secret is a moot point."

The entire squad stepped closer, curiosity peaked.

"The sun's state is… unnatural. The star is dying. Yet, it was fine before the quarian's flight three centuries ago. Something destabilized it. Now it's burning at ten times its normal intensity. In a few years, when it runs out of fuel, the fusion reaction will cool, and the star will collapse and go supernova. The entire system will be eradicated in the process. But that's not why we're here. As I said, the star's state is unnatural. We think the Reapers developed some kind of weapon and shared the technology with the geth. Something so destructive that it altered the sun on an atomic level. Ignoring the fact that none of us want those synthetics to possess such a detrimental thing, something that powerful…"

"Could be used against the Reapers."

"Exactly."

A round of 'holy shit,' 'god damn,' and 'spirits,' circled the group. Then Kirrahe picked up where he left off. "Anyhow, intel says that the geth have a fortified bunker in the Northern Pole. The tech team couldn't get a reading until they were planet-side, thanks to the sun screwing with our instruments, but there's a strange energy signal originating in that bunker. Our objective is clear."

Ever since the beacon, Shepard felt threatened from within. A fear, a burden, that he alone was to bear festered inside. And sometimes it felt as if the enemy of all organic life could sense it. It clawed through the abyss, haunting his sleep. Screeching artificial sounds. Flesh fused with metal. Trillions perishing in the blink of an eye. To think they were within miles of a weapon capable of affecting, maybe even killing, the Reapers, seemed too good to be true. Which meant it probably was. After all, if this thing did exist, it ate the sun. What good would wiping out the reapers do if they destroyed themselves in the process? He was far too cynical to be taken in by theories involving magical weapons that would solve their impending extinction. But it throttled morale through the roof.

So he kept his skepticism to himself as they inched into the village. It was slow going too. Not only did they have to tip toe around sunny patches, but the shade meant buildings. And buildings meant a plethora of cover for snipers and ambushes.

They split the teams. Kirrahe and his men investigated the buildings to the east, while Shepard and his team ensured the western bits were clear. The edifices were ancient and magnificent in size. Made of a red clay with streaks of pale gray, the base was square and thick, with stairs that wound around the sides. It tapered off towards the top – each level smaller than the one before. They advanced up the stairs in Herringbone Formation, ensuring every angle was covered.

That's when they learned a critical and promising, bit of information – the sun messed with the geth too. Not their shielding or equipment, they had clearly developed a countermeasure, but their communication. Normally the second a single geth unit spotted hostiles, every flashlight head in the vicinity knew. They'd swarm an area within minutes of discovery. But here they were hobbled, cut off from one another. And their attacks were disorganized as a result.

They spent a good eighteen hours gradually inching through the cluster of buildings. Eventually coming across a trench the battalion had cleared and set camp. Everyone was exhausted and in need of some shut eye, along with some sustenance. But Garrus caught Shepard's eye. The turian swayed a bit as he unrolled his sleeping mat, steadying himself against the earthen wall. A tremble coursed through his legs while he emptied half a bottle of steroids into an ear-hole. "Hey man, doin' alright?"

"Oh yeah. This stuff is nothing short of miraculous." Garrus answered.

"You're not on shift tonight. Get some food and some shut-eye."

"You sure? Turians don't need as much sleep as humans."

"And salarians only need an hour. Between Kirrahe's men and the rest of the team, we'll be fine. If you wake up before we're ready to head out, just rest."

Shepard and Zaeed took first shift. Kirrahe and half his team were patrolling the area. The trench was long and needed several spotters. And Kirrahe would not rest until all his men had the opportunity to do so.

Although it was technically nighttime, they were at Haestrom's northernmost pole in the dead of summer, meaning the sun never set. It hovered at the edge of the horizon – a massive, glowing orb. It'd be beautiful if not for the fact it was deadly. The one time he removed his helmet, it felt as though his skin was cooking. Now whenever his face muscles moved the area pulled painfully, burnt from mere seconds of exposure.

Zaeed shared in his hatred for Dholen, and dubbed it 'a goddamn menace.' The man was bitching while he scoped the southern landscape at Shepard's back. That's when John caught movement on the perimeter. He lifted his visor, and brought the scope closer in. A single geth unit. But an odd one. It had a massive hole on the right side of its chest, the glittering blue of circuitry peeked through human-made armor. N7 armor in fact. Then it did something beyond bizarre. It spotted him and instead of raising its rifle, it holstered the weapon and lifted its hands in the air. Was… was it surrendering? "Zaeed, you seein' this shit? Straight ahead."

Right as the geth screeched, "SHEPARD-COMMANDER," Zaeed answered with the crack of a rifle. A head-shot.

"Dammit Zaeed! I asked if you saw it. Not to shoot the thing!"

"It's a goddamn geth! The hell do you expect me to do?"

He radioed Kirrahe and they advanced in unison towards the thing. It was lying in the dirt offline, with its flashlight completely blown out. "Fascinating," the Major mumbled as he investigated. "You say it spoke? There are no other units around. And with the sun, it couldn't be networked. That shouldn't be possible."

"Exactly. It looked like it was trying to surrender. And what's with the armor?"

"Field repair possibly? A trophy? Although, I'm not sure an AI would care."

"I've fought hundreds of these things, and not once have I seen something like this. It spoke English. Not that chittering shit. And nothing that needed to be translated. It knew I'd understand."

"Sure you're not anthropomorphizing?"

"I know what I saw. Can you tell if it'll spontaneously reactivate?"

"The thing's intact so it's possible. But it's also possible it's permanently disabled. I'm no geth expert."

"And I know one of the best. Alright, let's remove its weapons and bind it with cables. Given the state of the sun and the fact none of us have an omni-tool on us, it shouldn't be capable of harm – even if it reactivates."

"You want to capture this thing?"

"I've never spoken to one. Hell, I've never heard one speak. I want to start up, and interrogate it."

Kirrahe looked a bit skeptical but helped him anyway. They strapped it to a wayward bit of plywood and dragged it back to the trench where everyone was updated on the situation, so there would be no more misunderstandings.

It took another two days of tracking before they caught a lucky break. And stumbled on an abandoned radio with a frantic sounding human on the other end. The area was well shaded with hastily setup fortifications. Clearly a base of operations. Now abandoned. It was a miracle that the radio survived. "Breaker, breaker, this is Private Vega requesting LC Kal'Reegar. Come in Kal'Reegar."

Shepard pulled the device off a dead quarian, and answered the call. "Copy. This is Commander Shepard speaking. Sorry to tell you but no one here's alive. Out."

"Woah. SHEPARD? The Shepard? First human spectre?"

John paused waiting for the signal that the guy had finished his message before realizing it wasn't coming. "The one and only. Out."

"HEAR THAT YOU MOTHERFUCKING TIN CANS?! WE GOT SHEPARD! Y'all are FUCKED now!" With every roar came a loud fizzle and pop. Then the voice settled down a bit. And there was less static when he spoke. "Fuck yea. What's your ETA?"

"I need you to fire a flare so we can get a lock on your position. And start using military procedure on the transmission. Out."

"Uhh… Copy that. Right. But if we fire a flare all the geth will know about us and swarm… Flemmons is dead. Just a bunch of grunts here. Uh… out."

"Copy. It's the only way we're getting to you. Out."

A flare no more than a couple klicks North erupted. Kirrahe immediately went to work with a pen and a map, calculating their position. "Got it. We're on our way, over and out."

Even though they were dragging a geth unit with a slab of plywood and cables, it only took twenty minutes to reach the private. True to predictions, the machines were swarming. Shepard flanked them and they took down a prime attempting to quash what was left of the human team. Once the dust settled and it was clear, a young, baby faced man ran up to their platoon and held out his hand. Shepard shook it as the private rambled. "Ohh man, are we happy to see you! I'm Private James Vega and this is what's left of Flemmon's command. Old man kicked the bucket a few days ago and we've been in a fight for our lives."

"Got a status on the quarian leader Kal'Reegar?"

"Alive and well. Just spoke to him on the radio."

"Alright, take us to him."

Kal'Reegar and the rest of the marines were thankfully not far. The two companies had been separated by an onslaught of geth – before the brass realized that their meager blockade wasn't doing squat to prevent the synthetics from dropping in reinforcements and called in the navies. Reegar was a one man army though. Reminded Shepard of Nihlus a bit. He had a shotgun with devastating capabilities. A rifle too. And knew how to wield them with maximum devastation. He melted through geth with ease, leaving nothing but a white, glowing puddle. Garrus watched closely has the Migrant Fleet Marines finished off the latest push, then motioned to the gun. "Saw something like that once before, on Omega. Care to tell me the model?"

"Reegar carbine. Designed by my crazy-ass brother. He went into weapons design while I put his hard work to use. This is one of his prototypes. Should never see it on a non-quarian though. Said there was a model on Omega?"

"A vorcha friend of mine had one."

"Well that's not something you hear every day, now is it? Can't say I'm happy to hear a vorcha got its claws on one though."

"Don't uh… don't worry. The gun and the… you don't have to worry." Garrus seemed to think better of continuing the conversation and went to check on Vega who was preoccupied with a decommissioned geth-flier. Something similar to their shuttles, but capable of withstanding the sun. It really got Shepard thinking. If the geth could design a flier unconquerable by Dholen, why couldn't they communicate with each other? Even the quarians managed to setup an interplanetary radio. Something wasn't adding up. And if there was one thing he hated, it was not understanding the enemy. All the more reason that captured geth was critical.

That being said, he didn't understand his allies. This whole mission was a mess. And very unlike Anderson. For one, his forces were about as green as they could get – few had seen real combat before this fiasco. The next was an issue he planned to take up with every bureaucrat from one end of the galaxy to the next – there was a critical supply strain. These thermal clips were ridiculous. They returned to limited ammunition with little benefit. Sure a soldier could shoot faster, which was more effective against geth given how fast their shields could rebound. But when you were knee-deep in the shit with little between you and the enemy, a gun's ability to cool on its own was essential. Not to mention the fact that a war to end all wars was coming and the tax on supplies would be astronomical. Anderson was either desperate, or had grown a little too comfortable in the politician's chair. Given the state of that man, his money was on the former. Whatever he was doing was big. And it sounded like he had little in the way of support.

The quarians' main base of operations was massive. But difficult to look at. A series of foxholes covered in a reflective material dotted the landscape. And in order to protect their suit-functions, the quarians replaced their wrappings with more of the same. Even with the polarized helmet, Shepard felt a dull ache blossom behind his eyes.

A quarian emerged from one of the holes and began assisting Miranda, who was making rounds, checking on the wounded – both quarian and human. She must be exhausted after days of marching, followed by the heavy fighting. But there she was working her ass off, ignoring the lewd jeers, all while administering life-saving measures. Say what you will about Cerberus, that woman earned his respect.

It took him a moment to realize the quarian was Tali. She had traded in her purple wrappings for the same reflective material the rest of the forces wore. A sense of relief washed over him. Her potential death was something that he'd compartmentalized and pushed to the back of his mind, so he could do what needed to be done. She waved to him, but there was no time for pleasantries. There were more wounded than medics. And it seemed she had acquired new skills in the intervening years.

He joined the quarian's camp with the rest of his squad, assigning foxholes, rolling out mats and chowing down on an MRE before hitting the hay. It felt like he had just closed his eyes when someone was shaking him awake. A familiar voice loomed overhead. At first, he was annoyed. He was off-shift and by the sound of it, the geth weren't causing any trouble. Then he recognized Tali's voice and the frantic edge that crept into it. "Shepard? Shepard please. I need your help."

He exited the hollow and found Reegar waiting at the edge, as stoic as ever. He wouldn't glean any information from that one. Not that he had to wait long. They slunk off towards the far side of the camp and well out of earshot of the soldiers. Within minutes, he was fully apprised of the situation.

"I think..." Tali shifted, nervously twisting her fingers. "I think we need to push. Now."

Shepard paused and glanced back. There were several armed patrols guarding the area – mostly Kirrahe's men. But the rest were either wounded or exhausted from days of non-stop fighting. They needed time to rest and regroup. "We do that, and it'll cost a lot of lives."

"Tell him your theory." Reegar interjected.

"It's not a theory. It's a fact. The Admiralty and the Alliance said to secure what was in that bunker at any cost. We couldn't get accurate readings before we hit the ground. But I've been monitoring the area since we landed. There's an energy signature coming from that bunker."

"Kirrahe mentioned it. Said it was some kind of weapon."

"I don't think so. It's not that powerful. Certainly nothing that makes me think it could destabilize a sun. But who knows with Reaper technology. What I do know is that the energy – whether it's a battery, a weapon or a ship – is fading and we are under orders to secure that bunker and everything within intact."

"Think the geth are trying to destroy it over letting us have it?" Reegar asked.

"No. I think you knocked something loose when you bombed the entire area!"

"It was that or the metal heads wipe us out. We did not have the forces to hold."

"Let's get back on topic." Shepard intervened. "Tali, our job is to assist the experts. If you say we need to take that bunker now. We take it now."

She hesitated, twisting her fingers over and over. "I … I think we need to. Otherwise, this was all for nothing."

"We push now or we don't. There's no room for doubt."

Tali looked over the encampment, shivering as she spoke. "Ancestors forgive me, we need to push. I don't see any other way."

"Alright. Reegar, ready your men. I'll tend to mine and inform Kirrahe of the change in plans."

Garrus couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes it felt as though the ground parted and he was falling eternally into the abyss. Eyes open wasn't much better, but at least he felt more centered. Like his senses weren't entirely snuffed out. So he was just sort of drifting, staring into the darkness, watching his men die on a merciless loop. It was the first time he thought of them since landing on Haestrom. Logically, he knew it was due to the near-constant action. That the mind focused primarily on survival when the situation called for it. But logic did nothing to abate the guilt. He could still hear Cynthia Newberry's Leverett's voice as he broke the news. The sound of an infant crying in the background. Her voice shuddered on the com. "I… I knew something must've happened. I've called every hospital but I… I hoped…" He couldn't recall much of the remaining conversation, merely the broad strokes. She insisted on breaking the news to her sister. He offered help should she need it, stumbling over the words like a fledgling. Swearing to himself that he'd look out for Weaver's family, come what may.

Liara helped him track down Weaver's daughters. They both married and changed their last names, making locating them borderline impossible. Especially for a turian unfamiliar with human customs. But he failed to find them before a missing person's report was filed. More guilt. More failures.

So, he wasn't in the best of mental spaces when Shepard marched over and said it was time to move. He nearly jumped out of his plates at the sound of the commander's voice. The fact that boot-stomping man snuck up on him (unintentionally) did not bode well. But he gathered himself all the same, strapping on his bandoleer and helmet. Then he stood and wound up right back on the ground, retching as his dinner revisited, straight from the proventriculus.

"You're off duty man. I'll get a stand in from the quarian team."

"No. No. I'm good just help me…. Get that bottle. Yeah. That one." He squeezed the thing until a stream of medication gushed into his ear. "I'll have my bearings in a few minutes."

"Then you can guard our backs. You're not in the push."

"We both know the geth aren't breaking through the blockade up there."

"You go down, I lose three guys. You, and the two who have to carry your ass outta hell. Stay put."

Garrus grabbed at his arm, rambling."Just … don't get killed. Alright? She … deserves something good for a change."

Behind the helmet, Shepard's eyes widened with alarm. Immediately, he summoned Tali. The tech team was under orders to wait until the area was clear, then cross to the bunker. So they wouldn't lose any manpower. Thankfully they were on the final stretch, but he couldn't help wondering if bringing Garrus was the right call. The man was losing it. "Keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't take off or do anything crazy."

Then he turned back to Garrus, voice firm. "Your orders are to sit tight. Understood?"

Garrus slumped back, muttering his acknowledgment. But at least he capitulated.

They split the teams into three. Reegar and his men – which now included several, human marines – went up the center while Kirrahe took the right path with Shepard and squad to the left. They inched forward on their bellies, Guardian shields strapped to their backs, furiously wriggling towards cover, where they'd unleash on the geth. And damn if the flashlight heads didn't want them reaching that bunker. They threw everything they had at them – drones, soldier units, primes, and worst of all a damn colossus.

Garrus and Tali were situated on the far end of a gulley, with a pristine view of the battlefield. He heard Vega's frantic call over the radio when Reegar went down. Right before the sun fried through their coms, cutting the troops off from one another. Then he got a taste of Shepard's new capabilities. Armed with a guardian shield, the commander ran for Reegar's squad, using the metal bulwark to ward off gunfire. Yet, the colossus got a bead on him. A brilliant beam of energy crashed against the shield. He thought for sure that it was the end of Shepard, mind churning towards the morose. How would he explain to Jane that not only had her brother come back to life, but died right in front of him…. All over again. Then a roar traveled across the battlefield, piercing through the din of gunfire, and the man charged on. Flinging himself into cover once he reached the struggling privates.

Turians were physically more adept than humans. Their bones possessed trace amounts of metals while their muscles were naturally bulkier, with more points of attachment. The result was a species that was far stronger and faster than all others in Council Space. Shepard had always been formidable for his species, thanks to several strength-enhancing genetic mods the Alliance gifted him, but this was… this was something else. Even the strongest turian would've buckled under the force of that energy burst. Yet Shepard braced against it, shield in hand, then continued on as if nothing had happened.

"Keelah," Tali muttered alongside him, giving voice to his thoughts. "Say what you will about Cerberus, but they certainly know how to build a soldier."

"What in spirits name did they do to him?"

Silence was his only answer.

Through the scope, Garrus spotted Shepard doling out orders in the form of hand signals, before he raced back to his own squad. Because crossing a battlefield like a mad-man once wasn't crazy enough. Although it was clear the man learned from his earlier misstep. The colossus never had another opportunity to take him out.

Forty minutes later, Shepard's squad had made it to the home stretch. They were laying into the colossus while the other two teams kept the geth at bay. But the damn machine was proving an issue. Normally, they'd use heavy weapons and a few tanks to bring a thing like that down. Yet, the sun precluded those methods of attack. The colossus killed two salarians, three quarians, and five humans inside ten minutes. And they had a long way to go. Every time they'd whittle down the shields, it'd huddle up and repair.

No one noticed a missing private. It didn't take mystical foresight to understand the troops' loathing over the situation, learning that they were expendable in the eyes of the powerful. But no one noticed Vega's absence until a geth flier zoomed overhead, loudspeakers blaring, "I GOT THIS ONE!" as he soared into the colossus. The sound of crunching metal, exploding plastic, and glass resounded across the battlefield. For a moment, there was nothing but deathly silence. Even the few remaining geth seemed shocked at the display. For a milisecond anyway. They recovered so quickly that, none of the organics noticed. Then Shepard ordered his team to close in, and they finished off what was left the colossus in minutes.

The remaining geth scattered, their attacks growing increasingly haphazard. Mere minutes passed before they were eliminated and Kirrahe signaled for the tech team to cross.

"Time to see if Vega survives Shepard's reprisal." Garrus chuffed as they sprinted towards the bunker. His medication kicked in awhile back. His legs were steady, gait even, but he knew that would turn on a feathered fringe as his body grew increasingly resistant to the steroids. He had a few hours before the vertigo returned though.

They arrived to find Shepard face-to-face with Vega, screaming at the top of his lungs. Garrus could scarcely make out the words in the borderline, incomprehensible screech. He caught the phrases reckless moron and court martial due to repetition, but overall his translator couldn't keep up.

Under the bunker's shade, the tech team removed their omni-tools from the boxes and quickly went to work. Tali was already interfacing with the panel installed on the side of the bunker door. Fingers deftly flying over the console.

The door itself was captivating, drawing Garrus in. Nestled between stone bricks inlaid with a perfect, circular vortex was an ancient steel ingress. It was painted in such a way that the structure appeared to be made of wood. He slipped off a glove, pressing the pads of his hand against the dense beams. Cool metal. Intricate engravings. "Quarian architecture. Now those are two words you never expect to hear together."

Ten minutes later, the door creaked open, and Shepard left Vega in Kirrahe's capable hands. Although, when he spotted Garrus among the throng of people, his ire found a new direction. "I told you to lay your ass down!"

"I crossed with the tech team commander. And the meds kicked in awhile ago."

Garrus could practically feel the scowl pulsating through the helmet. Eyes scrutinizing every inch of him. "Fine." Shepard relented. Satisfied by the steady, even presence Garrus exuded. "Technicians behind me and Garrus. That's the big turian standing next to me. And Zaeed – get your ass over here! Stay behind us three. Enter only when we announce that the room is clear."

Merely a handful of geth were inside. And they weren't capable of much. They crawled along the floor, headlights blinking and flickering as their circuitry scraped against concrete. A few head shots and that was that. The tech team entered and immediately went to work on the final door. Whatever lay beyond, the geth had been desperate to protect.

"Any idea what we're looking at?" Shepard inquired with the techs.

Nela'Leris, a junior on the team, answered. Orange reflected across a steel-blue mask as she surveyed the area. "We're standing in some sort of superstructure. According to my scans, there's a massive chamber beneath our feet."

"Any evidence of the weapon?"

"I… I don't know. But the energy signature Tali'Zorah identified is losing twenty joules a minute. Should it keep this pace, whatever it is will be drained within a day."

After reiterating that all techs were to remain in the secured area when the doors opened, Shepard let them work in peace. It took twenty minutes and most of the team to navigate the geth's sophisticated and heavily encrypted lock, but they broke through.

Despite his reputation for sacrificing men to achieve the goal, Shepard was always the first to volunteer for dangerous missions. And he never allowed his troops to take a risk that he himself was unwilling to endure. And in this instance, he insisted on being the first into the unknown. When he stepped through the door, half expecting a Reaper to leap out at him, it took everything he had to remain impassive. To maintain the visage required of a commander and not gasp in wonder.

Beneath their feet laid a palace. The walls were comprised of creamy marble inlaid with gems the size of his fist. They glittered in the soft, yellow light produced by dozens of sodium vapor lamps lining the walls. Overhead there was another light-source wilder than any living being could've predicted in geth territory. Chandeliers of glass and taper candles hung from the ceiling, merely a few flames remained, burning low. Not a speck of dust or debris littered the place. It was impeccably cared for. Shepard walked across the landing and peered into the chamber's depths. A marble staircase twined in tight circles, hundreds of feet above the floor, eliciting images of a world lost to time. Something ancient. Something magnificent.

"Keelah," Tali whispered from behind. "It… It looks like an ancestral archive. At least, how I imagined one from the history lessons."

"You were to stay put until I announce that the area is clear!" Shepard snapped. Immediately, Tali scuttled back beyond the threshold.

Him, Garrus, Miranda and Zaeed took point. The air was still as the they descended. A quiet reverence settled over the group. Intruders in a sacred place.

The ground floor was even more opulent than their view from above suggested. Rich tapestries encapsulated the room, woven from metal thread. Gold and silver if he wasn't mistaken. The patterns were perfect in their design. Created by a machine, his mind chimed. "This… this is a place of worship. Isn't it?"

But the replies were cut short. The hall spilled into a circular room lined with thrones of gold. And sitting atop were three bipedal beings. Dead yet meticulously preserved. Mummified. Their heads weighed down by crowns studded with diamonds. The skin was brown and lifeless. It clung to their emaciated forms like a crusty scab. Yet, the shape of them…. He'd seen them before on Freedom's Progress. "These look like Collectors."

"They remind me of Egyptian mummies, but you're right. Their skeletal structures are alarmingly similar." Miranda answered.

Shepard called for the tech team. Tali chose two quarians to accompany her and left the rest to the important task of setting up communication with the fleet. Anderson and the Admirals needed to see this.

Tali wasted no time. As soon as her feet touched the ground floor, she caught up with the rest, scarcely looking up from the omni-screen until she raced ahead and ripped the tapestry from behind the thrones, revealing a panel and a large, glowing orb. "This is the energy source. The one that's draining and..." Whatever she was about to say was cut short. Focused entirely on the console linked to the orb, she mumbled to herself. "Keelah… it can't … no… maybe…is that? Of course not."

"How about complete sentences for the class?" Shepard asked.

At first he thought she hadn't heard. Her head remained bent in front of the console, heedless to everything around her. Then she responded, voice shrill and frantic. "Take the tapestries down. Everyone just start tearing! The energy is fading and … it's easier to show than explain."

The fabric slid easily to the ground, revealing dozens of cylindrical pods, a bright glow around the edges.

"We've seen this before, haven't we?" Garrus spoke for the first time since they set foot in the chamber. "On Ilos."

"Yes." Tali affirmed. "According to that console, they're protheans. I don't know how or why but it looks like the geth took some before the power ran dry. This orb is a sophisticated battery of geth design. They… saved them."

"Wait," Shepard cut in. "Are you saying they're alive?"

"Not all of them. It looks like there were problems when they initially hooked up the pods. Energy fluctuations that didn't agree with prothean physiology. But yes, yes they're alive. I'm fairly certain these bodies belong to those who didn't survive the transfer." Too excited to wait for anyone else to speak, Tali rambled on, mind ignited, ideas flying a mile a minute. "The sun! The sun skews all our equipment and readings. It… it hid them."

"The sun or the geth?"

"It looks like that doesn't it? The sun was fine before the Great Retreat. And that was only three centuries back. Do … do you think they did something to the sun to hide them?"

"We can debate what the hell the geth were up to later. Right now, we need to ensure these beings survive. Do we just crack open the pods?"

"I'm not an expert on cryofreezing or a biologist. But I think that would be… bad."

Shepard turned to Miranda. She was already hard at work on the console, an inscrutable expression on her face. "Two of the pods have fading life signs. Tali was right. Bombing the shelter damaged the battery. We need to get them out but I'm not a xenobiology expert-"

Shepard didn't wait for her to finish. He rushed back towards the stairs, taking three at a time, bellowing the whole way up. "That radio transmitter you're building, we need it now! Contact the Normandy and tell Mordin Solus I need him planet-side ASAP."