Chapter 55: The Line


10. January 2415 AD, HSASV Normandy, Armory Storage

Pulling off the gauntlet from her hand and looking at the naked palm below it with a shared sense of confusion and wonder, Emily found herself at a loss.

What had just happened?

People like her weren't supposed to be able to do anything with prothean tech other than break it. It took ridiculously expensive equipment, a couple of doctorates and a huge scientific team to do something as simple as boot up one of their dusted up here she was, having broken through some kind of shielding device with the touch of her hand.

How?

As she formed a fist, halfway expecting something else to happen, the N7 didn't even notice that someone had joined her in the armory storage, overhearing both the hissing of the door and the quiet footsteps of the person walking up to her.

"Everything ok, Commander?" the biotic lieutenant asked while shoving the case in which his armor was stored into its designated spot below his nametag.

"Didn't I tell you to drop rank when it's just the two of us, Alenko?" the red-haired marine replied before tossing the last piece of armor in the footlocker and shutting it.

"Question still stands," Alenko countered with a shrug while inspecting his own armor compartment. "I know I'd be very confused if I was in your shoes right now. What happened down there? That's not usual. That's the opposite of usual."

"Don't you think you could say that about everything that's been going on since we hit Eden Prime?" she offered before turning around to face the marine.

"You could," the man said in return. Only when he kept quiet did Emily realise that he was still waiting for an answer to his question.

"I guess I'm as ok as I can be," she decided to answer truthfully. "It's not like this is the first strange thing that's happened to me because of prothean tech," the N7 added with a shrug of her own, remembering the vision the beacon had passed onto her, its contents still a jumbled mess she could make no sense of other than understanding that it was something to be afraid of.

"You're talking about the beacon, aren't you?" Alenko asked somewhat guilty. "Did it do something to you after all? I thought Chakwas cleared you."

The first time she had tried to talk to a fellow crew member about what the beacon had shown her, Captain Anderson had come barging into the room and ordered her to stand down. That had been before she had learned about Cerberus and been warned that neither Director Harper nor the Spectre who had kept her from talking, who incidentally happened to be the only two people who she had spoken to about the vision freely, were telling her the truth about what was going on.

"I'm not sure how it did it or what it means," she began. It was about time she talked about this to someone who she figured was going to be honest with her. Alenko seemed like the kind of guy who'd be just that. "But I think it tried to tell me something. Jesus," she paused after a chuckle while looking at the lieutenant. "I'm warning you, this is going to make me sound crazy."

"Try me, Shepard," he offered with a small smile that seemed to radiate sense of security.

Well.

Considering what she had already said, she figured she might as well go the distance with Alenko on this one.

"It gave me a vision."

"A vision?" the lieutenant repeated in a low, surprised tone. "Did you tell-"

"Captain Anderson about it?" Emily finished the sentence for Alenko. "Yes. Yes I did," she sighed,"and he told me to keep it to myself," recognizing that the last part of her sentence made the lieutenant shift ever so slightly, Emily went out of the strange need to justify her breaking the ordered secrecy, "But with everything that's happened lately, I'm starting to believe that that wasn't his best call."

"What do you mean?"

"Other than that something beside what we're being told is obviously happening wherever we go?" Shepard asked in return, "I feel like something's wrong with me," she confessed. "Ever since I touched the beacon, I keep having these strange dreams. Nightmares really. They're bits and pieces of the vision, clearer than when I try to think about it. Kind of like an old memory coming back," she tried to do her best to explain the feeling but guessed that it was something you had to go through yourself to truly understand.

"Okay," Alenko nodded once before raising an eyebrow. "What are they about?"

"That's the thing," she said while leaning against the table and tossing her head back to look at the ceiling. "I never quite remember. I just know that it's something bad. Like something really, really bad."

"You think it has anything to do with Arterius?" Alenko asked out of the blue. "He touched the beacon as well. Could he have done something to it that's messing with you?"

"At this point I don't know what to think, Alenko. It's like someone put my brain through a mixer."

"You know, asari mindmelds have been known to fix that kind of state," the biotic said with a shrug. "If something prothean did it to you, a prothean expert might be able to help you deal with it."

"Are you talking about the Doc?"

"Do you happen to know any other asari prothean experts?"

"Fair point," she smiled briefly. "Say if they mindmeld with you, asari basically look into your every thought, don't they?" At least that's how she had heard people describe it. In fact, it was this specific attribute of the mindmeld that made asari the go-to ambassadors whenever a new species stumbled upon the galaxy that didn't happen to have advanced enough computers to sort things out via a translation software. Learning a completely alien language in a few sessions was only made possible by having access to all thoughts. Unless she remembered it wrong, the elcor and drell had been integrated into the galactic community in precisly this manner.

"I wouldn't know the details of how it works," the dark-haired marine admitted. "Why?"

"Because she's a civilian and I don't think having her run freely over an N7's brain is that good of an idea," Emily replied. "Especially not with everything going on right now."

"So you don't trust her?"

"It's not just that," she explained again, placing an emphasis on the 'just'. "From what I hear mindmelds can be a bit," Emily paused for a moment while trying to find the right way to phrase it without making it sound wrong, "confusing for both parties involved. I really don't need that."

"I can see that," Alenko offered in return, the expression on his face telling her that there was something else he'd like to say. But before she could question him for a change, the intercom came to live with the quipping voice of Joker.

"Commander, Lieutenant, it looks like you're getting visitors," the pilot stated. "The Parnack's requesting to dock with us to debrief our Therum ground team. And before you ask, no, I don't know when generals started to request things instead of just doing them." Shepard grimaced at that last part. It hadn't taken her long to figure out why a pilot of Joker's caliber had never made it past the rank of lieutenant. A lot of the times he just didn't know when to keep his comments to himself.

"Permission granted," she said before nodding to the elevator. "Come on, Alenko, a general's waiting for us. We shouldn't keep him waiting. Probably wouldn't be good for our careers."

"Well, he is just Hierarchy. Technically," the lieutenant began, only the small smirk he offered when she turned to him in disbelief telling her that he was kidding.

"You picked a really bad time to develop a sense of humor, Lieutenant."

"Timing was never my specialty, Commander."


Eight Minutes Later, 2156 CE, HSASV Normandy, Conference Room

"Alright. That's it. The ground team's all accounted for, General," the human commander said as the bounty hunter finally decided to walk into the room, his eyes immediately going for the golden mexta sigil stitched on Desolas' grey dress uniform.

Whether he had already had personally clashed with his unit before or simply heard the stories about Blackwatch as they were told by the few survivors who had met them during the Krogan Rebellions, a time during which almost all missions of his legion had taken the 'from the shadows' portion of their battle cry to its darkest extreme, Desolas got a feeling that the krogan might not be all that eager to spent time around him. It wasn't a secret that turians, especially the ones that were part of a legion that had spilled as much krogan blood as Blackwatch, were still unpopular with the outcast species.

"Then we shall begin," his voice flanged through the now darkening room.

While he had done so with a heavy heart, he had come here with a simple intention. If this was the crew that was to stop his brother, a goal he wanted to achieve as well, the best way for them to both succeed was to work together. To do that, these people, even the krogan mercenary, had to know the truth. The whole truth. Not just the bits and pieces Director Harper had been willing to reveal to them or what they had pieced together for themselves already. They needed every detail, every little fragment of the unfinished picture he had been staring at every day since Haliat had died. Otherwise they not only wouldn't stand a chance at success but also risk ending up just like the others.

So that's what he'd do.

Tell them everything.

"The reason why I asked all of you to gather for this debriefing is that I recognize the need for transparency," Desolas said as he looked at the assembled mixture of humans, turians and krogan spread out across the room. "Our shared goal is to stop my brother who as all of you know has turned rogue and aligned himself with the geth. If we want to succeed at that, you need to know what it was that led him to do so," wiping his omni-tool at the holographic projector installed in te ceiling above him, Desolas watched as the depiction of the Leviathan that had taken part in the attack on Eden Prime assembled itself. "What you're looking at right now isn't a geth dreadnought," that was the official version that was being released by the Council now that footage of the battle was starting to surface on the extranet. "It's a ship of unknown origin believed to have taken part in the extinction of the protheans some fifty thousand years ago," even though it was dark he could tell by their expressions that this was the first truly shocking thing that he had said to them. It wouldn't be the last. "And while we don't understand how it achieves the effect, we know that this ship and artifacts related to it can influence the actions of people that come into close contact with them," with another wipe of his omni-tool images of Elanos Haliat, Edan Had'dah, Doctor Shu Qian, a number of the deceased Cerberus scientists encountered on Akuze and finally his own brother joined the projection of the alien ship. "My brother became a victim of this 'indoctrination' effect while trying to find a way to stop its master, an unknown entity indoctrinated indivudals have referred to as the 'Harbinger'."

"Stop him from doing what exactly?" the krogan injected in a low growl from his position near the door of the room.

"From doing to us what he did to the protheans," Desolas clarified before moving on. "Now, I am sure all of you have many questions," he couldn't blame them, "but right now what you need to understand the most is that the one pulling his strings is far more dangerous than Saren could ever be and that its the Harbinger's plan that my brother is following, not his own," for some reason the second human Spectre seemed to be the only one not surprised by this particular revelation. Had someone already told her? It didn't matter. "And that if he succeeds, we're all in terrible danger."

"Permission to speak, General Arterius?"

"It's your ship, Commander Shepard," he nodded.

"Where is all of this coming from?" the human asked as she pointed at the hologram before looking at her team. "I mean how long have you known this was happening?"

This was what he had figured would happen.

Luckily he had come prepared to tell a very long story.

"I was made aware of this situation when a Blackwatch captain killed his team under the influence an artifact a pirate gang stole from the Batarian Hegemony," he explained while producing a depiction of what the humans called 'Object Omnicron', its dark purple, spherical appearance and the memories connected to it sending a slight shiver down his spine that he refused to let show. "However the HSA's own awarness of this matter predates that event by at least a decade," as expected that caused the non-humans to look at the humans.

"When?" Shepard asked again.

And thus, the turian general began to tell said very long story.


Three Hours Later, 11. Janaury 2415 AD, HSASV Normandy, Conference Room

When the assembled group left the room in silence, the revelations of the general weighing heavily on all of them, Shepard had been confirmed in her suspicions.

Harper and Anderson hadn't told her everything.

They hadn't even told her a fraction of everything.

Although she realised that the other human Spectre hadn't had that much time to live up to his promise yet, Emily still found herself being mad at him. Not only because she suspected that he wouldn't have told her everything the Blackwatch general had told her but also because he had refrained from mentioning that this 'Harbinger' person and the ship they had seen on Eden Prime could literally hijack their mind.

She would've appreciated knowing that beforehand.

Hell, she would've appreciated none of this being a secret in the first place. Even if she had developed a distaste for secrets, she got the point behind classifying certain things. But keeping what the general described as a fight for the survival of civilization a secret from everyone but a selected few people? Despite the credit she gave him for telling them, she wasn't sure a worse decision could've been made. Good soldiers followed orders and she had been told to keep all of this to herself. Yet Emily couldn't shake the feeling that this was the kind of order good soldiers in fact didn't follow. People needed to know and telling them would've been the right thing to do.

She liked to think that she always did the right thing.

As she stopped in the hallway between the CIC, the conference room and the comm-room of the Normandy, Emily realised that anything she'd do right now wouldn't just be impulsive, it'd also be pointless. Sure, she could retell the general's story to anyone who would listen but who would believe her? She and her ground team had believed General Arterius because of what they seen for themselves. Besides the people who had fought on Eden Prime, anyone she'd try to convince wouldn't have that.

"Earth to Commander Shepard? Can you hear me down there? Jeez, is this think broken already or what? Next generation stealth frigate my ass," Joker sighed through the intercom of the hallway.

"Yeah, I'm here. What is it, Joker?" she asked, annoyed with he self. She usually didn't zone out like that.

Maybe she was being too hard on herself? She had just been told about an impending galactic cataclysm.

"For the third time, there's a call waiting for you in the comm-room." Yes. It was definitely his attitude that kept him from getting promoted. But that was the least of her problems now. "It's Captain Anderson," he added.

For a very good reason that immediately caused her to turn left and head into the room.

"I'm sorry it took me this long to get back to you, Commander," Anderson began as she entered the room, apparently already waiting for her. "Turns out finding a way to reach you without Udina noticing isn't all that easy."

"I met General Arterius on Therum and he told me everything," she fell into the words of the other Spectre. "Harbinger, Object Omnicron, the Budapest, Saren. All the things you and Harper have been keeping from me? I know about them now."

"He did wha-" shaking his head the former N7 placed a hand in front of his mouth in disbelief before collecting his thoughts. "If you know, you understand why I couldn't have told you earlier."

"What I understand is that you've been keeping the biggest damn secret in the galaxy for three decades. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about reactions like this one," Anderson countered. "And for the record, I haven't been keeping it for three decades, Shepard. It hasn't even been half a year since Saren told me. And when he did I reacted exactly like you're reacting right now. I wanted everyone to know. That is until I realised that telling the average person that the gun that killed the protheans is now pointing at our head wouldn't do us any good at all," as he paused after a rather sudden outburst, if one could call this rather composed reply that, Emily looked at the Spectre and for the first time since being told that he was keeping something from her decided to see things from his perspective.

Here he was, knowing all of these things, knowing that his friend was out there, indoctrinated and being forced to usher in what could be a galactic extinction event and he was powerless to stop any of it because he was stuck on the Citadel, condemned to watch other people chase someone he had worked with for years.

For a very good reason that suddenly made her feel like the bad guy in all of this.

She was in the right though, right?

Before she could come into conflict with her own perception of the situation, Anderson started to talk again. "I understand what you're going through right now, Commander," he said, "I've been there. All of this is just too much not to get overwhelmed at first. But before you make a decision, you have to think about what good it's going to do for us when in the long run."

He was right.

She recognized that now.

But still. Emily couldn't shake the feeling that she was right as well. No matter how contradictory that sounded.

If what the general had told her already caused her, a trained special forces officer, to act irrationally until someone talked sense into her, the average person would react even more poorly when being told what secrets had been kept from them and for how long they had been kept. That wouldn't do them any good. But on the other hand not telling people that they were in grave danger was just as bad. Maybe they'd handle it better than expected and prepare for what was looming on the horizon. Maybe the threat of a galactic scale war would finally bring the batarians and the Terminus Systems in the same boat as the Council and maybe, just maybe, together they'd do better than the protheans had.

Was that optimism or an outright lie she was telling herself?

Was she willing to take that gamble?

She knew she wasn't in any position to make that call, at least not right now.

"I understand, Sir," it was the only reply she could give at the time. It didn't imply that she'd decide one way or another, it just implied that she got what the captain was trying to say. That she'd consider his words the way he wanted her to consider them.

"I knew you would," he replied, evidently relieved. "Now that you know, can I assume that you also understand why I told you that taking Saren alive might be crucial to stopping Harbinger?"

"I understand that he might be able to tell us more about our enemy," might being the keyword. If this indoctrination really did what the general had said it'd do, Emily wasn't sure if the turian Spectre would give them anything. Removed from his masters or not, he might already be gone for good. Given the other examples, she certainly hadn't gotten the impression that it was a reversible process. Between the other cases, the N7 assumed that this was the lie Anderson was telling to himself to stay on top of things.

"Good. Good," he muttered. "Listen, I can't stay much longer. Udina's keeping me under a really tight lock. I think he knows something's going on. If there's anything on your mind, reach out to Harper or General Arterius. They can help you a lot more than me right now."

"Understood, Sir."

"Take care out there-" Anderson began only for Shepard to cut him off again.

"If you've got the time, I'd have one more thing to say, Sir."

"Of course. What is it, Commander?"

"I'm sorry for being out of line earlier. It won't happen again, Sir," somehow her realisation about Anderson's perspective had won over the part of her that insisted on being right.

"I am the last person you own an apology to, Shepard. In fact, it's probably the other way around," the dark-skinned officer sighed. "We'll talk again soon. Stay save. Anderson out."

Suddenly confronted with a lack of things to keep her distracted from thinking about fighting against the things that had killed the protheans, Shepard remembered another item of her 'to-do' list.

Wrex.

The operation on Therum had made it clear that she and the krogan needed to talk about his behaviour as part of a unit. Rushing in alone might work for someone who was basically a down-sized Paladin with biotic abilities. Even with Blackwatch tagging along for now, something she and the general had already agreed on on their way back from Therum's surface, that kind of 'tactic' might get a non-krogan member of her team killed in the long run.

She wouldn't allow that to happen.

Remembering what Alenko had told her about the krogan's mainstay on the Normandy, she marched to the elevator and headed for the observation deck located by the crew quarters, a quick wipe of her hand over its turian-style lock opening the door in front of her. Finding the krogan staring at the silhouette of the Parnack drifting silently alongside her own ship, its white and red paintjob standing in a rather stark contrast to the predominantly green of the Normandy, Shepard had been about to call him out when he turned on his heel and faced her.

"Shepard. Good," he greeted quickly. "You and I need to talk about what happened on Therum. I would've said something earlier but then those guys decided to show up," it was clear that he was referring to the turians even if he didn't outright say it.

"I was about to say the same thing," she replied surprised, the idea that he was talking about something completely different than her already forming in her mind. "Why don't you go first?" she added as she realised the uncharacteristic sense of urgency the krogan seemed to display currently.

"Do you remember the krogan?" he asked

"The one you interrogated to death?" she replied with a question of her self, clearly remembering passing by the beaten corpse of the mercenary on Therum. "Otherwise known as torture?" It wasn't that she had any pity for someone who had taken part in the massacre that had evidently taken place in the was that there were certain rules she and the people working under her were bound to or at least should abide to.

"If you want to call it torture, do it. Won't change a thing. It's the way we handle these things on Tuchanka," Wrex shrugged. "Besides, he was dead anyway. The only thing I did was make it quicker," he added. "But he's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"He wasn't? You were the one who started with him."

"Well. Yes," the krogan shook his head. "It's about him but it's also not about him," he growled in frustration. As the bounty hunter began to pace from one end of the room to the other, Shepard began to worry. Not because she was scared but because of how strange it was to see a person like Wrex be this unnerved. "Do you know how our headplates only fuse into one large one as we grow older?" he asked while knocking against the thick, scarred hide covering his yellow skin.

"I do now."

"The krogan on Therum, he looked like a whelp," she remembered Wrex calling him just that shortly before dragging him off to 'interrogation',"his plates weren't fused one bit but he was already fully grown."

"So? He aged a bit weird. Happens in every species, doesn't it?"

"No. With us that's all wrong," Wrex said before shaking his head again and stopping his nervous pacing. "The plates having fused or not isn't about how you age. It's literally how long you've been alive. How much time the plates have had to come together. The whelp might've been as big as any other krogan but he definitely wasn't older than a couple of months. Only newborns have plates like that."

"What are you saying, Wrex?"

"Saren figured out how to grow his own krogan army. It's the only way a welp could be so big already."

"Could that be the reason he took your females? To breed your people," that sentence left a bad taste in her mouth. Knowing what she now knew about indoctrination turned the krogan loyal to Saren from a fierce enemy into just as much of a victim as the people they killed.

"No," Wrex dismissed her immediately."Did you even listen to what I said? No krogan could have grown up like that," as he sat down on the couch in a manner of defeat she didn't figure he had in him, Wrex did the krogan equivalent of sighing. "He's doing the one thing even the damn salarians considered unethical to do to us. And they're the ones who came up with a plague that neutered my people."

"I'm not sure I'm following you," the commander admitted while rubbing her neck. Although no one could have expect her to be an expert in krogan biology and history, she still felt like she should know what had the bounty hunter so worried right now. If she'd work with them from here on out, she figured she needed to learn more about their people from here on out.

"I think he's growing us in tanks, Shepard. Cloning himself an army to serve that Harbinger of his," the krogan spat in anger before bringing his fist down on the steel table in front of him, denting it with ease. Considering what had happened the last time an organized krogan army had fought a war, that thought was sufficiently terrifying and his reaction understandably. "Anyway," he said somewhat awkwardly after several moments of silence, "I thought you should know what we might be up against if I'm right."

"Yes. I should. Thank you," she shook her head as she considered the krogan sitting in front of her, his defeated stare fixed on something in the distance. "So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked after another moment.

"The way you acted Therum," she sighed. Even if it was evident how much this weighed on Wrex, she had to do this now. Otherwise it might be too late. "You can't go charging in like that, Wrex. I don't know how you did things before but you're part of a team now. And not everyone on that team is krogan. Taking risks like that, even if they pay off," she went on after another moment,"it could get some of us killed. If that doesn't change, I don't think I can keep sending you down with us. Either you play by our rules," Emily said as the krogan looked up.

"No need to finish that line of thought, Shepard" he injected. "Until I find my people, I'll do things your way. You have my word on that." By the sound of it he certainly had his priorities straight. While she realised it was still stereotypical to think that way, the N7 was again surprised that Urdnot Wrex, a bounty hunter that only seemed to look for his own profit in any matter, could be so concerned with something so much bigger than himself.

It was a remarkable sentiment.

Who knew what would happen if more of his people started thinking like that?

"I'm counting on it, Wrex."


11. January 2415 AD, Armstrong Nebula, AN-493X

AN-493X was the HSA designation of a small asteroid that, at some point in the very distant past, had been caught in the gravity pull of its local gas giant. With its lack of rare materials like Eezo and presence in a system known to be regularly visited by pirate bands operating from the Terminus Systems making it uninteresting for just about everyone, it was rare for people to set foot on its surface.

Today was such a rare occasion.

"Alright, no doubt. Those are definitely our guys, Captain," Miller's voice crackled through the radio of his hardsuit, producing one of the few sounds he had heard ever since they had left the pressurized interior of the shuttle and began marching over the barren surface of the asteroid. "Check the markings on their shoulder pats. External Forces. Balak's crew. Checkpot."

"Yeah. I see it," he replied while tracing the sigil through the scope of his older bullpup rifle, noting the three yellow stripes that had been painted just underneath the blue symbol identifying the black-armored batarian as a member of the Hegemony's expeditionary forces. "Anyone counting more than eight?" he asked as he watched the soldier climb out of the small, dirt-brown crater to their east and take his place next to the large construct his comrades had been busy with ever since Phantom Squad had snuck up on them. Evidently stolen form a stockpile of the Batarian Hegemony, the sigil of Batarian State Arms and coat of arms of the Hegemony having been covered with the same three yellow stripes visible on the batarians' armors, the rougly truck-sized dark device lacked the angular design of most batarian-made pieces of tech. Instead of looking like it had been drawn up by a lazy engineer who had only gotten the job because of family connections and corruption, the thing might as well could've been a piece of modern art, its smooth shape and almost flawless craftsmanship standing in stark contrast to the other gear Balak's guys had hauled with them or the shuttle that had brought them here.

"No. I got eight as well, boss," Mav, the third member of his team, confirmed.

"Hofmann?"

"Counting eight on the drone feed, Sir."

"Copy. Pick your targets and get set," as he felt a vibration shake the ground the same moment the device began to flare up with the telltale blue of an Element Zero drive core, Haugen interrupted his sentence and pressed himself close to the ground to avoid being hit by the ensuing wave of dust flying into their way and the risk of being exposed it would bring with it.

"Alright. This is new," Miller spoke into the radio as the cloud passed over their position, barely missing their prone forms and keeping their optical camoflagues intact for now. "What the fuck did those bastards come up with this time?"

"Damned if I know," Mav offered. "It's definitely doing something to the asteroid though."

"Yeah, no shit it's definitely doing something. The question is what, man," Miller called back.

"Now I don't wanna worry anyone," Hofmann chipped in not a moment later as Haugen started to notice what he was likely noticing as well. "But my HUD says we're moving."

"They're trying to deorbit this thing," the captain voiced his realisation.

"Deorbit the asteroid? Why the hell would they do that?"

"The why's irrelevant right now, Miller. The important thing is that we stop them. If it picks up enough speed we'll be blown right off this rock," Hofmann offered.

"And straight into space. Great. Thanks for making my day, Hofmann," the younger NCO sighed. "You know I joined the army to avoid this shit, right? Figured the marines are the ones who get spaced?"

"Funny, isn't it?" the soldier to his left offered in a dry tone as his barely visible form shifted ever so slightly when the small dust storm the machine had triggered began to fade with a new one already gathering at its origin.

"No. No it's not fucking funny, Mav."

"It kind of is, Miller."

"Say Hofmann. Why do I get the feeling you and Mav-"

"Alright. Cut the chatter, Phantom. They're not going to hit full-throttle as long as they're still here themselves. EF are fanatics but they're not suicidal." Haugen ordered before once more rising to his former position and resting his rifle on the now vibrating surface of a small rock roughly forty meters away from the batarians. "So no one's going to be blown into space just yet," he figured while scanning the terrain ahead to see if any more targets had made their way out of the crater. Satisfied to find the same eight soldiers as before, he decided that it was time to risk breaking radio-silence. Pushing down one of the buttons on the left wrist of his hardsuit, he opened a channel to the frigate that had brought them here and was currently waiting to pick them up as well. "Ain Jalut, this is Phantom-Lead. Be advised, we encountered Balak's men. They're currently attempting to deorbit the asteroid. Over."

"Yes. We saw that, Phantom-Lead. Do you need extraction? Over."

"No. No extraction. We're not aborting the mission yet. If Balak has his guys trying to deorbit asteroids, we need to know why. Phantom-Lead out."

"Thinking about capturing one of these guys, boss?" Hofmann asked as he took his previous position on Haugen's right, the bit of dirt he shifted in the process of doing so far too insignificant to tip the batarians off on the fact that they were being watched.

"If we get the chance? Yes. If we don't," he went on while zeroing in on the orange glowing data pads the batarian that looked to be in charge of the operation was carrying, an action the HUDs of his squad members would track thanks to the link between their armor and their weapons, "we'll make do with what's on that thing."

"If we get to it before the pilot realises what's going on, we could try the transport as well," Hofmann suggested, causing Haugen to follow the sergeant's own marker pointing at the batarian-made shuttle that had been used to transport the machine and the squad of soldiers to this position. "How many guys you think are in that, Sir? Two pilots, one additional crew?"

"Tops," the captain replied. "Mav," he began while drawing up a new plan in his head."Think you can breach us into that thing without killing all of them?"

"With a small enough charge they should be save unless they're standing right in front of our entry point. Can't account for them doing that though," the ASOC operative spoke before his invisible form shifted ever so slighty in a way that allowed him to get a better look at the shuttle. "But first we gotta find a way to the shuttle without the grunts making us. That's easier said than done."

"I know and I'm working on that," he replied before watching the otherwise dark device pulsate with blue light again, the fine cloud of dust slowly but steadily swirling up around it giving him an idea. While it'd compromize their optical camo, it'd also keep the batarians from seeing each other die.

Now they just had to be quick enough to keep any of them from making a sound as well.

"When the cloud rolls over them, get ready to move. We'll each take out our targets and head straight for the shuttle," he ordered as the dust cloud grew denser and faster than the one before, suggesting that the batarians had upped its power. "All clear?" he asked a moment later, wondering if Balak's crew was suicidal enough to hit full-throttle after all.

"All clear, Sir."

"Good. Ready up and mark your targets," the ASOC officer ordered while flashing his targeting laser at two of the batarians, red circles appearing over their heads and making them stand out despite of the decreasing visibility. When his squad had mirrored the action, more red circles appearing over the unaware External Forces soldiers, Haugen slowly but steadily rose to his feet. "Almost there."

To an observant and focused person, the ghost-like shapes of the four camoflagued soldiers would've become apparent after a few moments of looking at them, their instincts telling them that something just wasn't quite right about the distortions within the dust clouds even before they realised that the dust was starting to stick to the ASOC operatives. But due to being too distracted with the task at hand, appearing almost confused as to what the device was doing themselves, the External Forces soldiers, like many of their fellow batarians, be they slavers or EF as well, Balak's men never saw Haugen and the others before it was too late for them.

As he aligned the barrel of his gun with the first red circle, Haugen covered the last few meters between himself and his first target with an ease that suggested that he had far more experience fighting in low-G than he actually did. Aware that no one would hear his shot thanks to AN-493X having no atmosphere whatsoever, he pulled the trigger of his SR-8 thrice without even thinking that the sound of it could give away his position. When the bullets made contact with the backside of the batarian's head in the same instant, his kinetic barriers having no chance to trigger thanks to Haugen's rifle being a mere centimeter away from its target, a fine red mist quickly mixed into the dust storm and became the only thing that could've clued his second target off. However before the EF soldier could notice the mist or turn around to see his comrade's body hit the ground, the ASOC soldier repeated the process, another set of three shots leaving the barrel of his assault rifle and killing their target.

Watching his own red dots vanish alongside the ones of his fellow operatives, Haugen spun around to the direction of the shuttle to find three outlines already closing in on it. Intending not to keep them, he jogged to the edge of the small crater and slid down its side.

"Charge's already in place, Sir," Mav said over the radio as he spotted the small explosive package attached to the door of the shuttle and the three soldiers standing near it.

"Blow it," he instructed right as he took position in front of Mav, pressing himself against the grey and brown exterior armor of the craft. After the fuse lit in silence, setting off an equally quiet explosion that ruptured the seal of the shuttle's door, all Haugen had to do in order to open it was to pull on the exterior release. Intending to use the disorientation the explosion had no doubt caused in the crew to his advantage, the man spun around the edge of the now opened door, knowing that the batarian currently struggling to get up on his left would be taken care of by the second ASOC soldier who'd his step. Set on stopping the two pilots in the cockpit, one of which was currently reaching for a sidearm and trying to level it square at his chest, his optical camoflague being of little use at this distance, Haugen pressed on. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to disarm the pilot in front of him in time, the captain didn't even bother to consider him the one he'd like to take captive.

Hence, a burst of SR-8 rounds tore through the thin fabric of the flightsuit he was wearing, sullying it with dark-red blood. When the batarian dropped his pistol and collapsed to the ground in a manner much slower than usual thanks to the little gravity of the asteroid, he simply stepped over him and entered the cockpit just in time to catch the co-pilot in the attempt of wiping the shuttle's computers. Intending not to let that happen but also remembering his personal secondary objective besides stopping the batarian operation, he jabbed his rifle against the co-pilot's head hard enough to knock him to the side and cause a small crack to appear on the otherwise clear visor of his mask that quickly created a spider-web like apperance. Recognizing the opportunity as it presented itself to him, Haugen then threw the pilot out of his seat and leveled the barrel of his SR-8 at his already cracked mask, Miller joining him in the cockpit not a second later.

"Clear," he spoke into the radio before ordering the ASOC operative to get the batarian on his feet and move him to the much spacier crew compartment, taking a big step over the dead pilot who by now had bled all over the metallic interior of the shuttle, the tan colour of his flightsuit and the emblems sown on it now several shades darker.

As Miller shoved the co-pilot down next to the other captured crew member, Haugen briefly wondered if the force behind the push would finally cause the mask to crack. Luckily for his secondary objective that didn't happen.

"Miller, grab everything useful off of the EF guys outside. While you're at it, go check on the device and see if you can shut it down. Mav, you've got intel duty in here. Flight-logs, radio-transmissions, if it sounds valuable, you copy it," the captain ordered before receiving two brief affirmatives. Figuring that there was no longer a point in keeping his camo intact, a bit of blood and a lot of dust already coating his otherwise dark-green armor and making him partially visible, Haugen turned off the small device on his belt, causing the cloak to drop and the ASOC operative to appear clearly in front of the batarians. When Hofmann, the soldier who had stayed with him, did the same thing, Haugen turned towards him.

"This one's just rank and file," the sergeant offered with a shrug directed at the other captured batarian, the lack of even the most basic rank insignia on his flightsuit indicating that he had barely been out of training by the time he had deserted alongside Balak's men. "My guess is he doesn't know shit."

"Alright. We'll see about that. Get us into their frequency," he ordered. It was the only way they'd be able to talk to their captives now that the vacuum seal of the shuttle had been broken.

"Sir, shouldn't we let the spooks handle their interrogation? I mean getting people to talk is kind of their job, not ours," the senior NCO replied while lowering his own weapon, a shorter carbine version of the older SR-8 ever so slighty.

Put off by the sergeant's sudden disapproval, usually his team followed all of his orders, Haugen paused for a moment before forming a reply. He wasn't the type of commander who lost it whenever a subordinate voiced his doubts. When working with small teams that particular trait some sorry excuses of officers displayed would get him nowhere. He had always believed in letting his guys speak their mind. It was what was best for the squad and ultimately their mission. Besides, Hofmann wasn't just his second in command. They were friends. If he had doubts about his call, he'd hear them.

"No spooks on the Ain Jalut," Haugen countered calmly. "If these guys want to go all Krogan Rebellions on one of our colonies," the only reason he could think of why Balak would want to deorbit an asteroid was to use it as an improvised weapon against a human world, "we need to know now, not in the week it's gonna take to get them back to HSA space. By then it could already be too late."

"Back there it didn't look like they were that close to achieving it, Captain."

"We still can't take the risk. Copy that?"

"Copy that, Sir."

Good.

As the sergeant went about his task, Haugen kept his SR-8 on the two batarians, making sure that both of them knew what would happen if they tried to make a move now.

"Done. You should be able to talk to them now, Sir," the other soldier informed him a few moments later before stepping back from their captives and bringing up his carbine again.

"Why were you trying to move the asteroid?" Haugen asked after changing the comm channel to the batarian squad intercom's frequency, its somewhat poorer quality becoming evident as soon as the co-pilot replied with nothing but curses. Deciding that he didn't particularly fancy what the guy had to say about his mother, he cut him off with another quick jab of his rifle, this time aiming at his torso and not the already damaged mask. "Balak's plan. Now," he demanded.

"I don't know anything about any plans. I'm just a grunt who flies shuttles," the batarian replied before offering a cocky smile that showed of his many needle-like fangs.

"Come on, you're an EF lieutenant," Haugen countered before pointing his rifle at the blue rank insignia, a half-circle inside a somewhat bigger, completed circle. "You know exactly what you're supposed to be doing here."

"Guess again, human. You shot the one in charge," the batarian spat back before narrowing his eyes through his cracked mask and throwing a nod at the dead pilot behind them. "And even if I did know why I'll die on this rock, I wouldn't tell it to some primitive," another smirk followed that statement, making Haugen wonder if the batarian would still be so full of it if someone were to crack his mask completely.

"How sure are you about that?" he asked as before carefully pressing the SR-8's barrel against the biggest of cracks it had created before, applying just enough pressure to put a sense of fear into the batarian. Turning his head briefly to check if there was an omni-gel container on the corpse of the pilot, a substance that among other things could be used to fix a damaged mask, Haugen went over his options when he spotted it.

"As sure as I am that Telesha smiles on all of those who give their lives to secure our birthright of the Verge."

"That smile didn't do you any good during the Blitz, did it?" Haugen asked before suddenly and rather forcefully pushing the barrel of his rifle against the mask, causing a tiny piece to give in just enough for air to start escaping from its interior. As the batarian made a move behind his own back, likely in an attempt to reach for his own omni-gel, Haugen kicked his chest hard. When he fell over, he planted his foot on top of the hand carrying his omni-tool and started to apply pressure while keeping his rifle aimed at his face. "Start talking or your lieutenant bites it," he demanded before turning towards the other batarian.

"Please. I- I'm just a radioman!" the other captive pleaded while trying to aid his comrade with his own package of omni-gel, an action immediately stopped by the other weapon now aiming at his own face.

"Captain, you're going too far," Hofmann injected despite being the one who held the radioman at gunpoint. "If he dies, he's no use to us."

"Stay out of this, Sergeant," he ordered before slowly turning to the other captive. "So you're a radioman? What orders were given to you on the way here?" nodding at the suffocating batarian to reinforce his point, Haugen gave his ultimatum. "Time's running."

"I-I-" the radioman stuttered as he fearfully looked at his lieutenant, "we were supposed to conduct a field study, get an idea how the tech works before we use it on our target."

So much for knowing nothing.

"What target?"

"There's no target yet," he said quickly as Haugen noticed the co-pilot was already struggling to stay awake. A clear sign of oxygen depravation."It was just a field study. Right now we have no idea how the tech even works. We just stole a shipload of it from a depot and-"

"Bullshit. What's your target?" he demanded again as the co-pilot seized his struggling altogether. Time really was starting to run out

"Please, I swear there's no target! I told you, we don't even know how the cursed things work!"

"Sir, if you keep going, we're gonna lose the co-pilot and everything he knows," Hofmann said from his side.

It wasn't empathy that finally got to the captain, he wasn't going to feel bad for anyone who'd attempt what this group was likely trying to attempt, but pragmatism.

Hofmann was right. His own interrogation had failed.

The next best hope was HSAIS.

And for that, the EF lieutenant had to live.

Briefly turning to the sergeant and then to the radioman, who's fearful expression was clearly visible through his uncracked breathing device, Haugen nodded and then, alongside Hofmann, lowered his assault rifle, giving the radioman the signal to rush to the aid of the now unconscious batarian. Wasting no second, he applied the omni-gel on the cracks, the faint orange glow of the liquid settling into the broken material and sealing it shut again hopefully not coming in too late. After a painfully long moment of not moving had passed, the co-pilot began to breath again, ensuring that he could be interrogated in detail later on.

"Mav, do you have something for me?" he asked after changing the channel and interrupting the continued pleads of the radioman for the time being.

"Yes, Sir," the soldier nodded as he left the cockpit and looked at the scene in front of him, likely wondering what had happened in here while he had gathered the intel. "I got some flight-logs that survived the wipe. If we're lucky the Ain Jalut might make something out of them," he said."

"Good," Haugen nodded as well. "Cuff these guys and ready them for transport," he added. "Miller?"

"I got the omni's and the tablet, Sir."

"What about the device?"

"Bad news. It's getting worse and I can't find the off-switch," the soldier replied through the radio. "My suggestion is that we blow it. There's no way we can take that thing aboard the Ain Jalut the way it is right now. Might as well make sure Balak doesn't come back for it," he had a point. Something that could make an asteroid, albeit a small one, move out of the gravitational pull of a gas giant had no business being aboard a frigate.

"Acknowledged," Haugen replied before again changing the channel. "Ain Jalut, this is Phantom-Lead. We got two captives and require extraction. Be advised, we're about to conduct asset denial. So don't be surprised if something blows up near our LZ. Over."

"Copy that, Phantom-Lead. Your ride's on the way. Ain Jalut out."

As he left the shuttle and climbed up the small crater alongside the rest of his teams and the captives, finding the dust storm to be as intense as he had imagined it after Miller's transmission, Haugen only briefly grabbed a couple of large demolition charges from Mav, throwing one of them into the shuttle and saving the rest for the batarian device, before sending the two soldiers and his prisoners to the extraction point, not wanting to risk bringing either of the captives into the storm.

"And you really got no idea how this thing works?" he asked after making his way to Miller, only the green outline his HUD had put over the ASOC operative and the blue glow of the Eezo allowing him to locate the soldier in the first place.

"No, Sir," he said as Haugen inspected the smooth surface of the device, a closer look revealing that the dark coating wasn't actually the same tone of black External Forces armor used but actually closer to a dark shade of purple. Listening to his instincts when they told him that he should just blow it to kingdom come, he withdrew his hand, took a step back, tossed one of the remaining two charges to Miller and quickly lodged his own as close to the center of the device as possible while Miller did the same on the opposing side. "All set?" he asked while throwing a final look at the batarian piece of technology that for one reason or another didn't seem all too batarian to him.

"Yes, Sir."

"Then let's get the hell ouf of here."


49 Minutes Later, 11. January 2415 AD, HSASV Ain Jalut, Hangar Compartment

After having been extracted Haugen had left his captives in the hands of the Ain Jalut's marine detachment and hurried off to being debriefed by his direct superior for the time being, Admiral Hackett, who had only been able to tell him that another frigate would be meeting them halfway to pick up the batarians and hand them and their intel over to HSAIS so that the Ain Jalut wouldn't have to leave its area of operations while the intelligence division worked on it. It hadn't exactly been a satisfactory outcome considering his own suspicion as to what Balak was planning but for now he just had to deal with it. He knew that Hackett was doing all he could right now, so he wasn't going to blame the man for something out of his control.

As he heard the doors of the elevator open behind him, Tore Haugen stopped the process of cleaning the last traces of AN-493X off of his SR-8 and looked up to where the dark-haired NCO was standing in a similar set of army green combat fatigues he himself was currently wearing.

"Captain," the man greeted as the door closed behind him.

"Sergeant," he offered back as he watched the man lean against one of the walls of the otherwise empty hangar, most of its crew was still sleeping, the expression on his face telling the captain all he needed to know. "If you've got something to say to me, just say it, Hofmann," he added casually. "Off the record, of course."

"Alright," his second in command nodded, taking his invitation. "What the hell was that down there, Tore?" he asked in an angry tone before folding his arms. "We don't treat prisoners like that. We're not the fucking Hegemony or some third-rate Terminus thugs. We don't do that shit to people."

"If we're right about what Balak wants to do with that tech, we could lose a whole colony any day now. That's a lot of lives we're talking about. There's no way I'll have that kind of blood on my hands because we waited for HSAIS to work its magic."

"So you tortured someone based on an 'if'?" the sergeant replied angrily. "That's crossing a line, man."

"If crossing the line is what it takes to stop Balak from killing millions of our people, you can bet your ass that I'll do it," the blonde captain offered as his own blue eyes met the equally blue eyes of his sergeant. "If that's a problem for you, I won't make you take part in it. Say the word and I'll sign a temporary transfer, no repercussions and no questions asked. Once the job's done, you can come back."

"You know exactly that I'd never leave Phantom."

"Then I can't promise you that you won't cross a line yourself, Hofmann."

"This isn't you, Tore," his friend said, not commenting on that possibility. "You've got principles."

"You're right," he nodded. "But until this is over, I don't have the luxury of sticking to them."

"If you go down this road, there's no guarantee you're coming back when we're done here."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

With that the two of the simply drifted into silence, going about their equipment checks as if the argument had never occurred. As he put the finishing touches on his rifle, a single thought kept his mind occupied. He wasn't going to let the batarian destroy a human colony. If he had to become someone he didn't recognize in order to prevent such a catastrophe, he'd do it in a heartbeat and without regret. Balak's picture was a clear one. Between the first raid on Mindoir and the Skyllian Blitz he and his family had already taken far too much from humanity. Thousands had suffered under his actions. And although Haugen had already given him a taste of vengeance on Torfan, the time that someone drew a line in the sand and made a stand against that monster was long overdue.

He'd gladly fix that.


12. January 2415 AD, Cronos Station

Pulling on the cigarette in his hand and staring at the star occupying the majority of the dimmed glass wall of his office, Jack Harper struggled to come up for an explanation for the message depicted on the terminal resting on the small desk at his right.

Months had gone by without the turian even trying to lure them out by contacting them directly. Why would he try to use this tactic now, after all of his allies knew that he had been compromized? Why not before when they might've fallen for it?

What had changed?

Was it the fact that Doctor T'Soni had slipped through his fingers again?

Did he want to put a stop to the people chasing him as soon as possible?

Was he gambling on the fact that he and the others would fall for this presicely because of how unlikely it seemed that he'd even try it?

Or was it perhaps actually a genuine cry out for help? Had Arterius managed to break the hold of the Harbinger?

For all intends and purposes, he should dismiss this right now and never think about it ever again. Saren Arterius was indoctrinated. Following his message would be downright stupid. An amateur move. Something no good spy would ever even consider doing.

So why was he in fact considering it?

Was it the increasing desperation that was pushing him?

The threat of an indoctrinated army of krogan?

The knowledge that every minute he spent considering this was another minute the turian could use to usher in the final stages of the Harbinger's plot?

Exhaling the smoke from his mouth, the director of Cerberus rubbed his brow. Until Section 13 managed to set in motion its own plan to use the Shadow Broker against Arterius, Shepard would be stuck waiting. Right now Feros was their only lead on Arterius and not using it might put too much time between them and the turian, eliminating every chance of stopping him before they even found him.

Thinking back to the last time he had sent someone chase after a hint he hadn't fully trusted, it had been the case of the Budapest and the now rogue Spectre, the former specialist looked at his own reflection in the black tile floor of his office, the piercing blue eyes, a 'gift' of his first encounter with an Object Omnicron, staring right back at him and reminding him of a lesson he had learned very early.

Only a fool made the same mistake twice. He knew that. If something similar were to happen to Shepard, it'd be his fault. If they lost someone else to indoctrination, the one to blame wouldn't be the Harbinger but his own judgment.

Drawing in another pull from the cigarette, Harper ceased the rubbing of his brow and straightened his back, eyes set right at the dying star in front of him.

Given the stakes, risking one frigate and one Spectre to possibly prevent something much worse simply added up. It was a ruthless calculation but ultimately he had to abide to its result the same way he had always done. It was what was best for humanity and ultimately, that was the standard by which he had to make his decisions. Muttering his apologies to an absent friend who like many others had died in the pursuit of stopping the Harbinger, the director dialed the frequency he had used to contact the commander the last time around, putting up a stoic expression and the illusion that he had a good feeling about this while waiting for her to pick up.

"Shepard," he greeted while dipping his cigarette into the ashtray. "There's been a development."


Codex: Batarian External Forces

Often called the elite of the Batarian Hegemony, the External Forces is at times described as a state within a state, its unique standing within the Hegemony, namely that of being the only force regularly traveling out of batarian territory and establishing outposts and bases in otherwise unclaimed portions of the Terminus Systems, granting it an independence and autonomy otherwise not found anywhere within the stricly regimented, stratified society of the Batarian Hegemony where every caste and every citizen is in one way or another dependent on the rest.

Estimated to make up roughly a third of the batarian military, the much larger but rarely seen Internal Forces accounting for the missing two thirds, the External Forces is itself split into ground and space elements equipped with the best weapons Batarian State Arms produces. Traditionally seen as the proving ground for individuals belonging to the most influential families of the military caste, the External Forces are as much a political tool as they are a military outfit, the practice of sending 'undesirable' or 'illegitimate' offsprings to units with high attrition rates suspected to be rather common phenomenon among the high-born officer dynasties.

Although recent years have seen the External Forces perform poorly for reasons suspected to be linked to infighting within the batarian government, the expeditionary force remains numerous, motivated, well equipped and well trained.

While usually depicted as the most loyal soldiers of the regime, it should be noted that the limited insight into batarian society ever since their departure from the Council and self inflicted isolation suggests that the military outfit might've taken its description of a state within a state to its logical extreme, carving out its own empire in batarian space and fighting an unseen shadow war against other factions competing for power within the Batarian Hegemony.


A/N:

Chapter 55. As promised, a bit sooner than usual. ( I almost managed to get back to my weekly scheduel with this one! Damn me. ... yeah don't get used to it.)

Before I hit the chapter, I want to use this opportunity for a little endoresment, something I don't usually do (which means you know that it's good.) These last couple of months I've been helping someone else with drafting up a story with a setting I find rather interesting (not gonna give away too much for now.) Going by the wonderful name of 'Palaven's Dogs', it was written by the same guy who as some of you might remember helped me come up with over FORTY chapter titles, AdmiralSakai. Given the work he put into that and my own involvement in Palaven's Dogs, I figured it'd give it a small shout-out.

And because I know I'll read it. (Because it's gonna awesome.)

So, if you're looking for something actually decent (god knows a lot of things on this website aren't) hop on over there and check Palaven's Dogs out now!

Now back to the chapter.

So.. Shepard finally knows what's going on.

Glad I got that over the bridge.

I know it should feel super special and heavy for every character to learn this but at this point I've had so many reaper reveals, I'm really fucking glad that this is probably gonna be the last on-screen one for a long, long time. I felt like I was starting to sound like a broken record :p

Also, we got a bit more Wrex and a bit more Kaidan.

And, to come to the surprising lion share of this chapter (didn't think it'd take up that much when I started to write it), we also return to the Renegade!Background, Tore Haugen, and his own little story (which as you all know by now is going to eventually lead right into Bring down the Sky and the Season 3 Ending (yes, Bring down the Sky will take place AFTER the end of Mass Effect because from what I understand, that's the way it went down in the 'canon' version of the trilogy)

I don't really have that much to say about that other than it's obviously meant to stand in contrast to what Shepard was worried about when being offered the N7 job some 20 chapters ago, becoming someone else.

But you knew that, of course.

So.

I will now make a short list of what I HOPE I'll be able to bring into next chapter (never want these to exceed a certain length. I feel like 10k words are already stretching what's comfortable to read in one sitting (the way these chapters are intended to be read)

56 is supposed to include:

A return to Redford, Elysium and the IFS murder mystery (haven't forgotten about it, it's just a lot of other stuff has happened in many chapters... that haven't actually chronologically been more than a couple of days since he first go tthere)

The continuation of the Paragade!Backgrounds 'sidestory', (putting that in quotes because well... he's gonna run into Shepard pretty soon again so it's actually going to lead into the mainstory again)

The beginning of Feros.

So.

That's gonna be a lot of original content.

You got that to look forward to.

For the record we're at 487 reviews, 735 favorites and 820 follows.

Not a lot of growth but hey, not a lot of time has passed since the last chapter. :p

See you around next time.