Nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at without result. - Winston Churchill

Chapter 10 - UNC: Hades' Dogs

The cool metal floor offered the comfort I was looking for. A bit unconventional for someone who wasn't drunk, maybe, but then again I wasn't someone to care about conventions.

And strange looks or sarcastic comments, well… I was alone in the Cargo bay, lay sprawled between Mako and lock, had calming beats on my ears and my eyes closed.

I had been relaxing for the last twenty or so minutes. I just wanted to get away from all other humans, and luckily, Postle and Ash were off-duty.

Of course, it was an alien that found me.

"Raven? Are you alright?"

I opened my eyes and looked up. Turned upside-down, I looked into a violet visor. I suppressed a sigh and removed the earphones.

"I'm alright, Tali, thank you. I just needed a bit of calm." I chuckled. "If the guys," I pointed towards the ceiling, roughly towards the Crew's Mess, "keep at it at this pace, someone's going to be spaced before we're even in the OP-area."

The marines aboard the NORMANDY were, generally, a bunch of relatively nice people. Miller did lower the average nicety a bit, but still.

They knew who they were fighting against, they knew the reasons, and the overall morale was quite high. They were, to put it in one word, professionals. But even then, being confined in relatively small space can get people to act weird.

I was noticing it myself. The continued lack of a real day-night-cycle was starting to grind on me. During night shift, the lights were dimmed to compensate somewhat, but it just wasn't the same. The lack of natural weather did its share.

I had rarely dreamt in my sleep before, or at least rarely remembered them. Now I had quite the colorful dreams in which the recent events mixed in, creating wild and chaotic nightmares.

Doctor Chakwas, when I asked her, assured me that it was only a temporary problem. Twenty-one years of being used to planetside conditions wasn't something that was shaken off easily. She had handed me some sleeping pills to take in small dosages to help make the transition smoother, and while I noticed that it made me more tired during the day, the benefit for my state of mind did outweigh this drawback by far.

Some of the marines suffered much more than me. Due to our ship's marine detail being put together somewhat hastily, roughly half of the marines were not trained to actually live aboard a starship. They should have been deployed on a few minor Alliance colonies in the Skyllian Verge. To make things worse, some of these men and women were from colonies with relatively harsh climatic conditions, and the almost absolute stillness here was not quite unlike trying to grow a sunflower without sunlight - if you catch my drift.

And then, all it took was one single awkward moment. I wasn't present, luckily, but heard my fair share. To keep details to a minimum: Another private, even younger than me, apparently had a crush on Danners. One that he showed... a bit too freely. It resulted in a crushed nose and some harsh disciplinary working, ordered by unit commander Alenko, SLT.

Ever since, the air in the marine's quarters was a bit too thick for my liking. I used my squad privileges, stayed mostly on the officer's deck and waited for everything to cool down.

"What has happened? I can feel the tension... it is horrible."

I decided to be polite and stop acting like a carpet, rolled myself up and stood before her. "You guys live aboard your flotilla, many people in small spaces." I smiled at her. It was half a grimace. "Humans seemingly can't do that. At least, not as good."

She tilted her head in a way I translated as 'curious'. "But aren't they supposed to work together? Why would they attack each other when they have a common goal?"

I leaned my back against the Mako's reactive armor and invited her to do the same. I thought for a few seconds on how to answer, finally shaking my head in a bit of frustration. "Humans don't work like that, unfortunately. We can be social, but at times we just need some time alone." I gestured at the floor, giving a tired half-grin. "That's the reason why you found me here, by the way."

"Oh! Sorry, I can leave you alone if you want some, uh,..."

"No, no, 's fine. I actually wanted to go grab some snack, and I must've looked pretty stupid anyway." I rubbed my brow. "Sorry if that sounds rude, but, eh, what brings you here? Didn't Shepard tell you to get some rest, like, half an hour ago?"

"Well, yes, but I… can't."

I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head.

"It's all so… silent. It feels wrong."

I knew what that was about, but decided to play dumb. It had been an eternity since we last had a real discussion, a friendly conversation that was more than the usual small-talk during the meals or while working.

Our schedules were tight. The NORMANDY's prototype systems required much more maintenance than expected, the crew was too low on sailors - ten people can make such a difference - and we were not exactly going easy on our material. The ship was a small frigate, but with everyone being loaded with work, staying in contact with everyone just wasn't possible - even if they were only fifteen meters away.

Garrus, Wrex and Ashley were the ones I interacted with mostly - Garrus and I were practically assigned to the Mako together, Ashley trained me and let me help her with the maintenance of our guns, and Grumpy Big Badass was standing in his corner and watched everything, only occasionally giving his two credits.

I guess if you're living over seven hundred years, you will inevitably gain extreme patience... Or stop caring.

Liara was mostly keeping to herself - buried in the small lab, spending hours upon hours in the Extranet by the looks of it. The only times I actually saw her were during our shared meals, and most of that time she was in company of either our Commander, or Dr. Chakwas.

Speaking of her, Shepard really was the one making the rounds, two to three times a day. 'Course, those rounds weren't always the big game changers… scratch the 'always'.

Like, not a billion lines of hidden awesome squad dialogue. When she talked with Garrus and me, for an example, it was mostly small-talk, or discussion about potential Mako upgrades - that would likely never actually leave the early stages of development, aka, our twisted brains. Too much risk of accidental… unpredicted types of damage.

Although I really liked the Incendiary White Phosphorus Smoke Screen one.

It was still nice of her to look after us, especially since she somehow managed to not appear like someone trying to constantly breath down everyone's neck. On the other hand, I wondered when Garrus would drop the subject of Doctor… Sealeon? Saelon? I remembered darkly that there was some sort of a minor loyalty mission for him in ME1, just like Wrex' family armor, but had forgotten all the details.

Well, I was confident that we would solve that problem in due time. If Shepard even cared…

Hm. Other than those people? Of course, I had daily contact to most members of the marine detail - I mean, I technically was part of their unit. On the other hand... I'm not someone who socializes a lot and we had other things to worry about.

I leaned back, stared to the ground and thought about what Tali had said. The bits about how a quiet ship would be dangerous, as quietness would mean that some vitally important systems had failed. And that the NORMANDY felt too empty, as if half of the crew wasn't there.

We were both sitting on the ground now, each one leaning against the massive tyres.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but if I remember correctly, your people are very social amongst themselves. You live together, you sleep together, you work together for the better of the Flotilla. You're close to your fellow crewmembers, as if they were family…?"

Tali rubbed her right up arm with her left hand. "Well, yes, in a way. We are not family, we are... we are Ran'ech."

I looked at her, a brow raised. "Could you say that again please? My translator didn't pick it up."

"I think that's because there is no real translation. At least I haven't heard of any. It's... somewhere between a family and... and a team, a squad, a pack maybe."

"Tribe? Clan, maybe?"

"Tribe may work, yes. We aren't relatives, but we try to be like ones. It happens quite often that children are raised by ran'ech just as much as by their parents, for an example." She looked down. "My mother died when I was just a small infant. My father is an admiral, he always has a lot of work to do. My aunt Raan took care of me. Well, she is not really my aunt, but... you know what I mean."

I looked at her, feigning astonishment. "Wait, you father is an admiral?"

"Yes. He is leading the Admiralty Board. And Auntie Raan is the Admiral of the Civilian Fleet. "

I smiled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were a real princess."

She tilted her head to me.

"Hm?"

"Well, uhm... Commander Shepard said almost the same thing."

Careful. "Heh, I am not surprised. We humans are strange." I grinned broadly. "Even to one another."

We conversed some more. Tali told me some of the things she had already told Shepard – about the structure of the fleet, the workings of Admiralty Board, Conclave, Captains and Pilgrimage gifts. Knowing most of the basics, I asked her a few more detailed questions of my personal interest. Some she answered freely, almost enthusiastically, some others she had problems explaining to me. It was an alien society, after all.

Our conversation died down shortly after, and for a moment, we both just enjoyed the comfortable silence. The low humming of the engine made me sleepy. I felt almost sorry to interrupt the quietness.

"Do you miss the Fleet, Tali?"

She didn't answer for a few moments, and I carefully tilted my face towards her.

"... I do. If you had asked me before I began my pilgrimage, I couldn't await to leave. The crowds, they were too much. But now, I… miss them." She looked at me. "You must think that it's crazy."

I shook my head. "Heh, I felt the same once." I thought about how to stay true to myself, and still stick to my fake ID - it felt wrong, but was necessary.

"When I left my parents after what I found out, I was sure that I never would return. The hatred was too deep. Or that's what I thought." I stared up into the dimmed lights on the ceiling. "And still, at times I wish I could get back. Even now." I turned my gaze to her, smiling. An actual genuine smile, not sarcastic as usual. "You're about to become an adult with your Pilgrimage, I barely completed mine. I think that it's normal for us to miss what we're used to, especially to us young people who don't really know what's outside their home."

I shook my head, chuckling lightly, and closed my eyes. "Look at me, barely an adult, and trying to give some sage advice on life to someone who's almost as old as me. I should really leave that to Shep."

"Well, what you said, it is true."

"I really hope so."

The silence that followed felt more comfortable than before.

"I would really like to see the Flotilla, one day." I said on impulse. I remembered the pictures of ME 2 and 3, and our talks had intrigued me to no end.

Even if I would not know Tali, I am sure that I would be quite fond of the Quarian people. Now, I am a cynic, and so I was very well aware that they weren't all flowers and butterflies. Their ingrained hate against the Geth while understandable, had the potential to ruin both species, that was certain. Certain individuals, like for example Rael'Zorah and Han'Gerrel, were a testament that some of the quarian traits were questionable, to put mildly. And don't get me started on Tali's loyalty mission.

However... how they managed to survive against all odds, against all the racism and hate they had to endure, against the Council, with the limited resources, numbers and everything? Forced into suits, with every small injury having the chance of being a death sentence? Staying true to themselves in the process? You could argue that it was human compassion speaking, sympathy fueled by knowing about Tali, Shala'Raan, people like Veetor or the infamous Kal'Reegar - but one must pay respect to their race's collective power of will at the same time.

My line of thoughts was interrupted.

"Before I met, well, you all... I would not have thought that possible. Nobody wants to have contact with a Quarian. The galaxy thinks of us as inferior. That's what my father told me. My pilgrimage taught me that he was right." Tali focused me with her shiny eyes. "But, after meeting Shepard, you, the others here... maybe, he wasn't so right."

I gave her a small smile. Leaning back into the Mako's armor, I lowered my head, averted my eyes and looked down.

A thought had struck me a bit earlier, and I felt that it was at least something to consider. Now, with what had been said, the spark had gained more momentum.

But it was far too early to talk about it. Instead, I merely looked up again, and spoke with seriousness.

"I feel honored. And I'm sure, the others do as well."

A few days later, we were back in the struggle.

Approaching Nepheron, all stealth systems engaged.

Scanning the area, making plans.

Getting prepared and geared up.

Reaching the LZ.

Planetfall with the Mako.

Getting said tank close enough, taking out any hostiles that hadn't seeked cover in time.

Our attack on the last Cerberus stronghold we knew about was, from the outside, mere routine. It all looked like one of your regular Mass Effect 1 planetside missions. And me calling it a 'routine', that was both a good and a bad thing.

That said, on the inside, it wasn't quite that easy despite me getting somewhat used to all of this.

I had lost all hesitation attacking another living being, acted coolly and ruthlessly like one would expect from a marine. Killing Kahoku had made things personal, or so I told myself. Thinking back, I'd say I was trying to at least somewhat compensate for my lack of commitment in saving his life, and that's what made me eager to take down as many Cerberus operatives as possible.

If you're feeling dramatic, this change of heart was on clear display with my new piece of equipment.

With my balaclava and glasses consumed by acid, I needed another way of protecting my head from hazardous influences. Once again, Shepard and Postle came to my rescue.

I griped at the fabric once more, trying to straighten it with my glove… useless. It had to work that way.

"You ready?"

I looked up, nodded to Ash, and let her help me fasten my new mask to the seals of the armor.

The "suitable replacement" for my balaclava, that Shepard had talked about, was a goddamned Recon Hood. An older model, apparently. Or just the '83 version.

I didn't feel any magical 5% increase to my weapon damage, at least.

But, as advertised, the 'ballistic-mesh fabric' and the 'composite ceramic plating' offered greatly increased protection compared to my old balaclava, and the HUD was neatly fit into my general field of view - which was slightly increased, thanks to the fact that I didn't need to wear protective glasses anymore.

It looked pretty badass as well, especially combined with my black light armor, dark grey chest rig and the black and white Mattock. I already had plans to paint everything in a matching black-and-grey. Not most fashionable.. but surely an effective urban camo.

As a plus, I wouldn't have to deal with clunky breather masks anymore since an air filter system was directly built into the hood. I had no night- or infrared vision available to me, but that was a fact I could live with.

Especially, since that meant that the eyes didn't fucking glow. Unlike in the game, where sometimes, the urge to go all Hollywood was too strong with the graphic design guys.

I mean, needing to sell some products with flashy beautiful lights, okay. But why a hood for sneaky, stealthy black operations!?

The steel helmet, unfortunately, was not fitting with this ensemble – but I would keep it for worlds I could breath on. And as some sort of a trophy as well.

The pressure seals locked tightly together, and with one last glance and nod towards Ashley, who wore her helmet tightly sealed as well we jumped out of the Mako onto the frozen rocky ground of Nepheron.

Rifle in hand, I closed the distance to Shepard and the squad, dodging the broken bodies of Cerberus snipers in the process.

Shepard merely nodded and when Ashley was next to me, gave us a sign. We lined up, and as the airlock gave way, rushed into the base.

We worked fast and coordinated, secured the first room in a matter of seconds. Shep looked on her HUD, and ordered us to line up on the left inner seal.

I stood behind everyone else, fastened the grip on my weapon, and started sweating.

My HUD showed ten tangos on the other side.

"Raven."

"On it."

I readied up a flash, while the others sticked to cover. Shepard looked at me, I nodded, she pressed the large green button.

"Get ready!"

Almost as in Slow-mo, the door unsealed, and as the shutter started retracting the middle, I threw the 'nade on the other side – remembering just in time about the map layout to throw it in a bit of an angle, and got out of the way.

A few surprised yells that followed the bang! showed that I had stepped on the right people's toes.

The squad rushed in, and I saw a few tango's standing around, dazed. One of them, a Commando, reacted out of impulse and fired his biotics in the direction of the door.

It was aimed at Garrus, but the turian cop-turned-badass was quick enough to let himself fall flat to the ground and return fire.

I was anything but agile, and that's how I made the first acquaintance with a few kilonewton worth of Biotic Force.

It really felt like a fucking hammer impacting in my chest, but at the very least I was quick-thinking enough to drop half to the ground. That lowered my center of mass, so the Throw didn't blast me against the next wall, but only a few feet away. I tumbled with my back against said, but was on my feet and behind cover within three seconds.

Alliance standard issue excersises, brought to me by Gunnery Drill Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" was my response to Shepard's shouted question, then I used the opportunity to set up camp behind the large crates in the center room. A perfect angle to lock down one half of the room where the fighting was going on.

I was up in time to see Garrus taking a hit to the shoulder while he tried to crawl back to cover.

I took the sniper, who didn't even see me, in my sights and made him pay with two bullets. First one hit the chest and made him stagger, the second one was a clear headshot, impacting close to the mouth and causing brain, blood and dental stuff to splatter behind him. Needless to say that he fell immediately, causing me to flash half an emotionless grin while I gave the Mattock time to cool. I felt the adrenaline, but at the same time something kept me calm.

A second later, Shepard and Kaidan had dragged Garrus to cover, patching him up with medigel. A female Cerberus Commando tried to use the situation to her advantage, but a bullet from my rifle and Ashley's suppressing fire forced her back down behind an obstacle. Meanwhile, Tali and Wrex's shotguns sounded loudly, but what was going on on their side I couldn't see.

Garrus stood up again, shaking off Kaidan's offered help with a nod and a gesture – I hastily let myself fall behind my cover, dodging two sniper's targeting lasers and felt their rounds impacting into the ground around me - damn close to my feet. The barriers protecting me lit up like a christmas tree, and cursing wildly I pulled my leg from their line of sight as well.

The threat of being hit by their 'Assassination' ability was enough for me to stay fucking low.

"Commander, I'm pinned!"

Shepard gave a short acknowledgement. Then I heard three shotguns blasting loudly – and three dots vanishing from the sensors. I may never like the way they handle, but in the right hands, the 'boomsticks' surely get the job done.

Taking my chance, I jumped up and, when no one targeted me, dashed over to close the distance. Hostile fire accompanied my way, but it was inaccurate thanks to the squad pinning Cerberus in their place.

"Red! Flush 'em out!"

I grabbed an incendiary, readied it up and took aim.

"I'm burning him, get back!"

A red cylinder flew in a high arch, exploded mid-air and dropped half a liter of liquid hellfire right on a sniper's face.

The operative stumbled, fell to the ground and rolled around to get rid of the flames. His shields flared wildly, burning liquid was all over him.

Using Wrex' broad back as cover, four Mattock rounds made sure that the traitor was going nowhere with that.

I retreated to cool off, and then saw the last Cerberus goon mid-air, surrounded by a blue hue.

We attempted to take him into custody, however, he went limp before the effect of Liara's Lift even ended, falling down to the ground with a loud thump.

A later analysis showed that he'd taken the coward's exit. Potassium cyanide in his tooth. A very old, but unfortunately very effective way to avoid interrogation.

With all Cerberus forces dead and gone, it was understandably a pretty easy, relaxing even, task to scavenge the area for anything useful.

Unfortunately, just like in-game, Shepard's attempt at 'carefully pressing a few buttons' resulted in station-wide alarm and the complete flushing of all local data storages. I bit back a cynic comment about what our Commander meant by dealing with tech – I am not that suicidal, thank you very much.

At least, she did secure large chunks of it on her tool. Those were heavily encrypted, and deciphering them would take time and computing power the NORMANDY simply didn't have. The Alliance did, and with any luck, it would help dealing quite a bit of damage to Cerberus - or even be a war asset later on.

Shepard did not trade it in with the Shadow Broker. Wrex made no comment on it, during our debrief. Then again, both things would have surprised me quite a bit, despite our Krogan having worked for the Broker. He was a mercenary, after all.

The debrief itself, technical-tactical points of interest aside, had a strange atmosphere to it. Grimness dominated. But also a bit of…. Yeah, satisfaction may be the right word.

Kahoku could now rest a bit easier. But everyone knew that we hadn't seen the last of Cerberus.

It didn't take out-of-dimension knowledge info to feel it. I swore myself to be ready for Round 2 in 2185.

"Alright."

Shepard's sigh was long and full of feel. She let her gaze wander around, rest on each of us for a few moments, before she took a few steps aside and began to type into her omnitool. We had discussed the topic of our last mission pretty exhaustingly. We all got our time to be yelled at, she even asked and accepted critics on her own performance. Not what you would expect from a higher ranked officer… but to quote Tali in Mass Effect 2: 'Shepard is no ordinary officer.'

Still, I refrained from noting that Tali may have been the better choice to try getting the info from the base's servers. At that time, it was merely respect for our Commander. Writing these lines now, I think it may also have been wrong. It wouldn't be unlike Shepard to rather attempt it herself, than to get Tali on it and risk her getting the flak for when it failed.

It would have been too fitting, if Command would have put the blame on the quarian… regardless of what Shepard wrote in her report.

I got called out for leaving cover too often, but Shepard also made sure to drop a few positive words on my shooting.

Ever since I had abandoned my order to protect Liara at all costs back on Therum, I felt even less inclined to talk back at such things than I would usually, given my nature. I had received quite the backlash for just putting the hurt Asari in a corner and fighting back instead. Well, I knew that Liara wouldn't be harmed during the fight, but in-game knowledge of 'critical NPC's being invulnerable' wasn't exactly something you can use to defend yourself.

If it hadn't been for the cause of shielding the injured Ashley, the debrief would have been far more unpleasant for me… And our Commander would have been right. She made a comment in private - and for that I was grateful, not being called on the carpet in front of everyone else. I vouched to not abandon or risk any civilian or VIP, especially not when under her orders, and so far I had kept it.

"We covered all the mission details, and put Cerberus behind us. Case closed. I think it's time we get back to our primary mission - stopping Saren, and make sure that whatever he plans, it fails."

I had stayed quiet for the entire meeting, all the time considering our chances of running into Lieutenant Toombs. If Shep had been the Sole Survivor, then I had argued that completing that task was a no-brainer… but she wasn't, and so I was unable to predict if the 'Causa Cerberus' was indeed done. We would see. I had not seen or heard Shepard call her mother either.

There were other people around me, people that actually had important things to say. I made sure to listen intensely, but now things began to get actually interesting again.

"With all said and done… Feros is waiting for us." There was nothing to lean on where Shepard was, but everything about her posture suggested that, if a railing would have been available, she would have heavily supported herself on it. Take it for what it is.

"Alliance High Command has cleared the route for us. They will accept my SPECTRE level clearance, or that's what they told me. Our objective is pretty simple - get there, figure out what exactly is happening to the colony, resolve the issue, destroy all enemy positions, extract with all intel and assets we can possibly get our hands on."

I nodded, a notion that was lost in the agreeing murmur of my squadmates. Sometimes someone's needed to lead the charge into the enemy trenches… but that's what our Commander was made for. Literally, if you are feeling sarcastic.

"We don't have any proper intel on our enemy. As usual. But what we do have: There are a few hundreds civilians around, and if Saren's smart, he'll use those innocents to slow us down."

She shook her head, and absent-minded touched her forearm with the right hand. Some pistol shot had punched through her armor, but she had refused to let anyone treat her. A small dosage of medigel would have been enough… then again, if even Kaidan hadn't been allowed to treat Shepard planetside, I decided to leave that to Dr. Chakwas. Probably the only authority aboard that our Commander would listen to in medical matters - or in general.

"We're now five days from Feros. Geth attacks have been confirmed, but unlike Therum, where we knew what they were after," here she made a gesture towards Liara, who smiled a bit shyly in response, "Saren's objective is still unknown. Whatever it is, we must make sure that his guys don't overrun the colony. Raven, Williams!"

I straightened up, and out of the corner of my eye's I saw Ash doing the same. "Yes, Commander?"

"I don't know what exactly is happening right now in Zhu's Hope, but potentially defending it is part of the agreement the brass has reached with ExoGeni. I want you in charge of our marines, and Raven with you if you need more hands. You six, me six."

"Aye-Aye, Commander."

Wait, what?

I couldn't exactly say that I felt put out about not having to deal with the Thorian and his - its, whatever - botanical BS, but it was a surprise nonetheless. A major one. The NORMANDY's marine detail deployed to protect Zhu's Hope, while Shepard's squad would do the exciting stuff?

I didn't show my feelings, put on a mask and merely nodded in confirmation.

"You know where we're going." Shepard said in a final tone, retreating back to finally lean herself against the communicators. She folded her arms in front of her, looking positively confident. "Use the time we've left to get ready. I'll call you all a twelve hours before we go in. Time to show Saren that he's not fucking with our people. Dismissed!"

We cleared the room. I followed Wrex to the mess, but where he stuffed himself with some sort of spicy 'tastes-like-chicken' kind of meal, I grabbed the third mug of coffee for the day, and another protein bar.

For the upcoming Feros mission, our equipment needed to be up to scratch, which meant repairs, checks and upgrades to prepare for Geth ambushes, strange plants, green Asari, some sort of a bullshiat cypher to decrypt some previously encrypted knowledge from that freaking plant…

I may or may not have been utterly annoyed that day. But our last joyride with that three times cursed tin-can of a tank had left us dangerously low on spare tyres, and I was not looking forward to spending an entire afternoon trying to unbend the axles and patching up the solid rubber.

Then again, it was necessary, and I had signed up for this. Or so my monthly paycheck said.

And, well, small talking with Garrus wasn't a bad way to spend a sunday.

When Tali came by to help Garrus with the electronics, and Wrex went on to personally 'talk some sense' (as he called it) into the the rebellious and offending piece of iron-something-alloy, we actually made some progress.

We had three days left to prepare. And we would be ready when the call came.

Same time. Another place in the galaxy.

Intelligence. Counter-Intelligence.

It was, in theory, a game with a very simple set of rules, and a clear goal to achieve.

Know everything about your opponent, while denying all of your knowledge to him or her. And in the end, trade your advantage in information into to something more… physical. May that be hard cash, an allies' assets, a favorable battle plan.

The man knew that the game of knowledge had often be compared to a game of chess. He partially agreed, partially disagreed with that statement.

It was in the nature of humans and sentient life in general, that nothing was simple when it came to revenge, to loyalty, to changes of heart. Information warfare, to his understanding, was the game of and about organic emotion.

Only who managed the depths of a being's soul, with all their strengths and weaknesses, ambitions and fears, could hope to play it well. And only who could masterfully pull and cut the right chord at the time could ever hope to achieve the rank of a grandmaster.

And looking at the reports his teams had sent from Nepheron and Binthu, the Illusive Man could see the pieces moving in brilliant clarity.

The demise of Rear Admiral Kahoku was an unfortunate, but necessary precaution. Cerberus wasn't widely recognized as a major factor… yet. It was foreseeable, that the Alliance and the Council would turn more attention to the guard dog of humanity in the future.

But not now. Humanity had to have a single goal right now. And while the human survivalist group he led would be a considerable force in near future, right now many of its crucial projects were yet too vulnerable to risk a direct confrontation with Council forces of any kind.

The loss of Project Shell Shock, the experimental creation of an army of expendable, breedable shock troopers had been unfortunate, too. But its chances of success had been considered low right from the start, and if sacrificing a pawn was the price to avert a dangerous check, then the trade was not only favorable, but also of vital importance.

Cerberus wasn't lacking pawns. They just weren't in the right positions - this turn.

Leaning back in his chair and taking a drag from his cigarette, the Illusive Man looked absent-minded on the large holographic screens in front of him. They displayed every bit of information about the NORMANDY his agents had been able to acquire so far. One could argue that this was a pointless exercise, since he had all the blueprints available to him - hell, a large part of them had been drawn by his personnel - but it was worth noting the small changes between the plans and the actual construction, details that could prove invaluable to later… upgrades.

The technicians were already designing an improved model, a heavy frigate - a ship that was more than a 'prototype cloaked landing craft'. A ship that was meant to actively harass the enemy's rear, his supply lines, his bases - striking fast and hard before hiding in the dark of space. Like a submarine of old.

The batarians and turians had been hiding behind their fleets for long enough.

Though, that was not what The Illusive Man focused on right now.

The technical specifications were only secondary. Primary objective of his spies were the people aboard - one woman and her squad in particular.

He waved at a few tiles. New pictures formed, and from these, he pulled eight to the front.

Commander Shepard was a remarkable woman. The first human SPECTRE, symbol of humanities ambitions. But Cerberus had watched her before, ever since the successful defense of Elysium.

Someone who could inspire civilians and soldiers to such greatness would be a great asset to Cerberus, and as such to the entire human race - more than she could ever be as part of the Systems Alliance. Recruitment efforts were considered.

The current crisis however mandated a more… subtle approach.

The intentions and goals of Saren Arterius were not known to the Illusive Man. Even his wide network of agents had reached its limits, especially when it came to classified mission details in regard to SPECTREs.

The majority of Cerberus' agents were still centered around Earth… it was indeed time to put a greater focus on the galaxy at large, instead of just manipulating the Alliance.

The man who once had been Jack Harper took a grim satisfaction from the fact that Saren had seemingly followed his brother's path into madness. Some wounds just never healed, didn't want to be healed, even if he had proven useful in foiling Desolas plan's.*

The Illusive Man he was now however would not commit any assets of his still-fragile organization to combat an unknown threat, an action that undoubtedly would draw too much attention.
For him, it was an excellent opportunity to see how Jane Shepard fared.

He considered his men to be expendable, but he was also aware that they were good. And a team that could just tear through them in a matter of few minutes demanded attention.

He looked at the eight portraitures.

Four humans, including the Hero of Elysium, the granddaughter of his old superior officer and an L2 biotic who had taken part in the BAaT - a project his shell company Conatix Industries had funded and largely led. People with potential, but still too naively trusting in the Alliance.

The asari, daughter of esteemed Matriarch Beneziah, who headed the House T'Soni and who was widely regarded as one of the most powerful and influential leaders of her people. And who was now considered the second major traitor.

The turian, who had been one of the most deadly snipers during his time in the Hierarchy's military, a SPECTRE candidate even, and one of C-SEC's most successful agents after that. Something of a rarity amongst turians… someone who understood that the ends justified the means.

The krogan, a dangerous mercenary of deadly reputation. His exact age was unknown, but at least seven hundred years of experience in all kinds of warfare was a fact that spoke for itself. He was rumored to once have been one of the strongest krogan leaders… it was not difficult to see why.

And the quarian pilgrim, allegedly the daughter of one of five Migrant Fleet admirals and, by all accounts, a very resourceful engineer.

A truly… exotic troupe of experts.

More radical, xenophobe elements of his organization would consider this composition a disgrace for the human race. For The Illusive Man, all that mattered was that Shepard had somehow found a way to make this work, to the benefit of the mission and humanity at large.

He had studied the profiles of each and every member of this unlikely bunch of squadmates. It

was important to consider all factors, when asserting the Commander's leadership skills. Knowledge was the key.

And for that reason, the enigmatic eight, Jess Raven, was someone to be noted.

He tipped on Raven's profile picture. The young man's image zoomed in, multiple lines of text next to it linked to every bit of information on him that was available.

Which was remarkably little.

The Alliance Personnel Database contained only the barest amount of information. Footages, family ties, friends, history of service, background… all of that was not available, further informations were either classified, or not available either. Other accounts, like tax offices or other civilian organizations, were almost completely void of traces as well.

And outside of the Alliance' bureaucracy, he didn't seem to exist at all.

Cases of people signing up to cut all ties with their old lives were not uncommon. But nobody managed to pull that off completely. With this young man, it seemed different. It was as if everything had been wiped, except that there were none of the typical traces of that.

The Illusive Man looked it over once more, then closed the file and stubbed out the cigarette, exhaling the last bit of smoke into the Chronos Station's artificial air.

This lack of understanding was less than ideal.

And yet, he assigned Raven a low priority.

He would order a team of agents to search for traces. He was able to comb Earth's darker areas with an accuracy and efficiency the Alliance could only dream of. He would figure out who this boy was.

Because for all things that existed, there was always some sort of trail, even when it sometimes was very unobvious, particularly when someone was fleeing the Terminus. A ex-slave keeping their head down, or a person looking for a new start - successfully leaving it all behind. It would be found eventually, and Raven was likely in the same boat as the quarian girl - despite her alleged relations. Brought along to protect him for assassins, fighting because he didn't want to hide in a bunker. There was no guarantee - there rarely was - but there was enough evidence to consider it a fact.

Raven could only be considered an average fighter - merely armed better than the foes he faced. The Illusive Man had his teams analyze the security feeds from Binthu and Nepheron, down to the last frame, watching him in his customized, yet still Alliance-issued gear.

There was no doubt that, while he was gaining experience, the private was still subpar to the rest of the group. It wasn't a faked behavior. His analysts were sure of that.

And no one would place an agent in someone's ranks without at least creating a solid faked identity, let alone someone this inexperienced. It was just so ignorant of even the easiest of rules in the game he played, that he was not going to consider it a real option. Given how suspicious a complete lack of background was, there was only one logical reason for whoever might have placed him -

A distraction, either to conceal a more skilled agent's presence, or to enforce the commitment of valuable countermeasures that couldn't be used against a really important operation.

Still, it would have been something worth noting, and investigating in detail, if not...

His communicator gave an alarm. He read the name and allowed himself a small, almost unnoticeable smile.

For now, the war against the geth, a matter the galactic press already called the 'Eden Prime War' called for the leader of the Guardian Hound of Humanity and demanded his full attention.

Opportunities and openings revealed themselves every day, while the threat for humanity developed and changed its face. New technologies could be salvaged from defeated geth patrols, the detachable heatsink 'magazines' opened up a wide array of possibilities. New weapons, designed to combat the synthetic threat, were waiting to be field-tested. The inevitable power shifts in Alliance parliament, and in human leadership across Earth in result of the war's outbreak and the assignment of the first human SPECTRE needed to be exploited, in the best case by his allies of Terra Firma.

The question of Shepard and her mission needed to be addressed, but had to stay in the background for now. One of her subordinates…. doubly so.

"Operative Lawson. I understand there have been… complications on Luna."

After all, who would focus on a pawn when there were rooks, knights and bishops to be moved?

So, The Illusive Man would wait, and watch as the pieces started to move on the board he thought had control about.

That, maybe, was one of T.I.M.s greatest mistakes in the game he had dedicated his life to.

Raven, upon learning about him narrowly escaping Cerberus' attention at this time, would later comment in his usual, sarcastic-ironic manner…

"Nobody expects the promotion.**"

A/N: *See Mass Effect: Ascension.

**The promotion, in chess, is a move where a pawn reaches the far side of the board and is subsequently turned into another type of piece. Two things should be noted here… First: this move can literally turn the weakest piece, the pawn, into the strongest piece, the queen. Second: If it actually happens, it's often the match-winning move. Make out of that what you will.

And no, I am not using this just for the purpose of spicing things up… I really enjoy playing chess, even though I will probably never reach a high rank. Someone like Traynor could beat me any given day, and probably without any effort.

Other than that, I hope you all had a smooth transition into the new year - and that you enjoy this slight change of pace in the story. Playtime's over now, Feros awaits. And I have found new vigour, replaying all of ME1-3 in potential preparation for Andromeda.

Please, EA and Bioware. Do NOT f*ck this up.

Regardless how good that new ME may be, though… the tales and exploits of Commander Shepard will always leave me with fond memories, and as such, you all don't need to worry about me abandoning this lil' story of mine.

Thanks to the one and only 5 Coloured Walker for once again enduring bad English and horrible wording, and for helping me as a Beta reader - and giving so much valuable input that I should officially note him as Co-Author one of these days. It's appreciated, by me and by everyone reading, I'm sure of that! If there are (and I am sure that there are) still mistakes left, I take full responsibility.

Anyway - If you like this story, please consider to leave me a fav and a follow, maybe even a review. I am glad about any kind of useful critique I can get.

Until you read me again! (Hopefully.)