Alright, here it is: the long awaited 4th chapter of Effect of a Titanfall.

I've honestly been surprised by the support this story has been getting. So here's a huge thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, following, favoriting, ect.

Quick note: I have edited the previous 3 chapters to fix a few typos and mistakes along with removing the 'Luck-o-meter' thing (which, in hindsight, was a pretty stupid idea).

Now, enjoy.

Cyrene - March 23rd 2181 CE, 6:09 am Earth Time

"Alright, push it now! Steady...! Steady!"

So.

*CLANK* "Dammit!"

It appeared that I had forgotten accounting for a certain factor when I drafted my brilliant plan of using the ship we had hijacked to get to the pirates' home base.

"Are you serious...? Is this actually happening?"

What might that have been, you ask? I'll give you two words: BT's size.

"This is getting us nowhere." I sighed as I watched a team of workers trying to move BT's chasis into the cargo hold of the ship. Something they were failing quite spectacularly at. "Isn't there a way to attach a container to the ship or something?" I asked Hektor, who was silently chuckling beside me.

The man chuckled, blue eyes crinkling with mirth. "Unless you want to lose your mech inside a Relay's transit, no there isn't."

"Lady Luck preserves me." I muttered as I raised my head to the heavens, trying to ignore the giggling in my mind. "Screw it. Guys! This isn't going to work. Just- ugh, just leave it." I told the men, who reluctantly stopped and pulled back the lifting platform they'd been using to try and push the Titan inside the ship. "Looks like you're going to have to sit this one out, BT." I said as my friend rose from the platform and stepped aside.

"Acknowledged. How should we proceed?"

I racked my brain for a moment before turning to Emma, who was watching the scene unfold with us. "You have the coordinates to our target. How long do you think a trip back and forth, plus a few hours on site, might take? Keep in mind that the back trip will be done with a carrier ship."

She adopted a thoughtful expression. "Our target is hiding inside an asteroid belt on the edge of the Mil system in Sigurd's Cradle. Factoring the fact that a carrier moves slower than this scouting ship and that the initial trip from here to Sigurd's Cradle will take about twelve hours, I'd say around thirty-six hours in total."

I winced. We still had no real ETA for when the Alliance would arrive but I knew it would be in less than twenty-four Earth hours for sure. And I had no illusions that the populace would keep quiet as to how exactly the batarians had been defeated.

"If I may, I have a suggestion." Hektor said and I gestured him to go on. "We could put the chasis into a container until your return. The location of it would be kept from everyone else but you and I, of course, and the crew would be sworn to secrecy."

"And how would you explain my presence to the Alliance?"

"Easily: you are a freelance mercenary who stopped by to resupply and stumbled upon the aftermath of the raid." He said, weaving a cover story on the spot. "We have asked you to rescue the men and women who were taken by the batarians who managed to escape this mysterious mech and its pilot, who left immediately after the battle was over. Once you come back from your successful endeavor, with a brand new carrier ship in tow as to accommodate for the people you rescued and the loot you found, the supplies would then be given to you as a reward in, say, a certain container as to facilitate transport." he finished. "How does that sound?"

I could only stare him with my mouth moving soundlessly -not that he could see it, but still. "I don't think I could have cooked up a better tale myself, Hektor. Let's just hope that the Alliance will accept it once they arrive." I turned back to Emma. "Are the supplies loaded and the others ready to go?"

The blond gave a sharp nod. "Yes sir."

"Then tell them to embark, I'll join you shortly." I told her before looking at BT. "Will our communications be able to hold, even with close to twenty-five light years of distance?"

The Titan's optical monitor blinked. "Calculating. Affirmative, communications should hold, albeit with a slight delay of 1.67 seconds."

I nodded. Good. Then again it wasn't exactly a surprise given that BT had managed to maintain communication even when I was using the time shift device back on Typhon. "Alright then. Hektor, I leave the matter of relocating BT and the container to you. I'll see you both tomorrow, God willing."

Hektor gave a solemn nod. "Good hunting, Mr Wolfe. We'll be waiting for you."

"Good luck, Ethan."

In short order, I embarked the batarian ship and Emma quickly lifted us off the ground and into space.

Fact is, Cyrene was quite isolated. From what I had gathered from Hektor, the project was to make the colony a transit station between the Titan Nebula and the rest of the Terminus Systems. Something to invite explorers and miners to explore the systems of the Nebula without fear of having to go back to Omega in order to resupply, since the Titan Nebula Relay only linked to the one of the Omega Nebula. The isolation which would make their economic prosperity would also make them a prime target for the Collectors in the future, just like many others.

Even more worrying was how the Collectors had managed to travel all the way from the Omega Nebula to the Shadow Sea in order to attack Horizon (a colony that was literally on the frontier between the Traverse and Alliance space) without raising any red flags and avoiding patrols. It meant they could travel anywhere and being very discreet about it. Something to consider for the future.

A few minutes of watching the stars fly by, I stepped away from the cockpit's window with a small sigh. "Tell everyone to meet me in the cargo hold, if you would."

"Going to brief the recruits?" Emma asked from her seat.

I huffed behind my helmet. "That, and they'll need all the help they can get if they are to stay alive until this is over. I would have done this alone, if possible, but with hostages in the equation doing this alone would be more troublesome than I can afford."

She gave me an uncomfortable look. "...Are you expecting casualties?"

"From our side? A couple in the worst case scenario. Unless I separate myself from the group for too long, this shouldn't happen. In the prisoners' case? It will be a miracle if none of them die." I honestly replied. "It will really depend on how much of them there are and where they are located. If we can get to the holding cells fast enough, and with little opposition, then yes we should be able to minimize the risks. But otherwise..." I trailed off and she nodded grimly before turning back to the console.

In battle, you always have to consider both the best and worst case scenarios along with everything in between if you want to have a chance at victory. And even then, no plan survives contact with the enemy. While I hadn't been officially been inducted into the Marauder Corps, never mind the Special Recon Squad of which Lastimosa had been part of, I knew their Modus Operanti very well. After all, it was the one on which BT's protocols had been based:

1: Link up with your unit.

2: Uphold the mission.

3: Ensure your unit's survival at all costs.

Rarely had there ever been any true plan to follow. We had a mission, an objective, and how we accomplished or reached it was up to us. Plans were for when you had the time to prepare, something the IMC had rarely allowed the Militia. Most of our victories had been because of how devastatingly and rapidly we could make a counter-attack, not how meticulously it had been done.

Here, it was more or less the same. Success would depend on how much chaos we'd be able to sow in the pirates and how fast we could secure the main objectives before they could re-organize themselves. We had no information on the base itself aside from its location and its resources, which made this operation all the more complicated.

I snapped out of my thoughts as I entered the cargo hold and approached the twelve people, eight men and four women, who had volunteered to join me in this endeavor. Their chatter ended quickly as they noticed me.

"I won't ask why you're here. You all have your own reasons and they are none of my business." I told them bluntly. "I'm not a leader, and you are not soldiers under my command. However, if we're going to do this the right way, I need to know that if I give you an order, you'll follow it immediately. Can you do that?"

They traded looks between them, some looking a bit nervous, others resolved. "Do we know how much opposition we can expect?" one man with copper hair and a beard asked.

"Sadly, we don't." I replied. "However, we can safely assume that they left only a skeleton crew to man the base and watch over the prisoners they already have. Just the same, we do not know if they have implanted the control chip into these people yet. But if you see someone with a slave collar, knock them out first. It will prevent the batarians from forcing them to fight us or kill themselves."

"What about security turrets and the likes?" another asked

"Leave that to me." I said. One thrust of my data knife into one of the thing's port and the IFF would rewritten to consider its former owners enemies. "I've also asked for a medic to join us, who would that be?"

A woman that looked about fourty years old with curvy raven black hair reaching up to her shoulder blades raised a hand. "I do not have much experience treating battle wounds, but I shall do my best."

"Your priority, unless one of us is to suffer severe injuries, will be to treat the prisoners once the battle is over. Expect broken bones and bruises, at the very least." I told her. "Now, who here has experience in holding and shooting a gun?"

Five of the men, a couple of which I recognized as members of Cyrene's security forces, raised their arms while only one woman did.

"How many of you had experience prior to the raid?"

Only the two guards kept their arms up this time.

"Alright. You." I pointed at the men in question. "You're in charge of teaching those who haven't ever held a gun how to do so properly. The rest of you, with me." I gestured as I moved to the far end of the cargo hold.

"Now, you five already had a taste of how it is to shoot. Now, you're going to learn how to aim properly. Weapons at the ready!" I instructed and watched as they raised the batarian rifles in classic, if messy, shooting stances. I'd have correct that quickly, if I was to hope they'd be able to hit their target. "Contrarily to what most people would think, just putting your eye to the sight and aiming before firing isn't enough. What you want to do is make sure your aim is stable so that your shots don't fly around instead of hitting the target. In order to do that..."

And so, for the next three hours, I trained these men and women as best as I could in order to make sure they could survive in the first thirty seconds of a firefight, putting them through the basics of my rifleman drills and squad tactics. They wouldn't become soldiers overnight, but it would make them go up from complete amateurs.

"That's all for now. Grab a bite and get some rest, everyone." I said after one last exercise involving how to cover your allies when pushing the enemy, making all of them slump in relief. "Good work, all of you."

And I meant it. While there was only so much I could do in such a short amount of time, it should be enough to make them hold their own against the rest of the pirates. Sure, the batarians had probably more experience but most of it was probably gained from raiding colonies with little to no defenses. If put in a defensive position, they should be at a disadvantage. Moreover, I knew from my own experience that most mercenaries have no sense of unity or teamwork, making them easy prey for even a slightly cohesive unit.

Well, unless said mercenaries were part of the Apex Predators, but those were the exceptions to the rule.

Still, I had high hopes that we would be able to accomplish our objective without much trouble.

Rolling my shoulders, I made my way to the common room inside the ship, intend on grabbing a couple of MRE before setting for my next task. "If anyone needs me, I'll be performing some maintenance on our weapons." I told the exhausted dozen people as I walked away. We still had more than eight hours of travel, and I had nothing better to do than to familiarize myself with how weapons from a different universe worked.

Most of the assault rifles and shotguns we had taken from the raiders were from the Terminator and Executioner lines respectively, except for the odd Banshee and Hurricane thrown in the mix. I'd quite forgotten how many different weapons manufacturers there had been prior to ME2. Although the designs didn't vary much, it was all about the difference in specs. I could only guess that the implementation of detachable heat sinks, aka thermal clips, had caused several of the manufacturers who couldn't adapt quickly enough to go out of business.

'Although,' I mused as I slowly and methodically dismantled a Terminator assault rifle. 'the fact that the use of thermal clips will be implemented to deal with kinetic barriers quicker seems like a serious downgrade to me. At that point, the Alliance might be better off going back to using lead bullets for greater mass, armor penetration and stopping power, since the thermal clips are basically just a fancy term for ammunition.'

Once the rifle had been completely dismantled, I checked each part individually. Somewhat unexpectedly, most of them were in good condition, which meant that either its previous owner had been relatively adept at taking care of his own weapon or someone among the batarians was in charge of performing maintenance on their weapons. I suspected the latter.

On Typhon, maintaining my weapons hadn't exactly been an issue as I often had to change the ones in my possession for those I'd find on dead enemies due to lack of ammunition. But, just like every rifleman, I had been trained in maintenance. The Militia's resources had been, at times, stretched thin to the point where having a spare rifle was a luxury, which meant making sure your weapon didn't give out on you during the mission had quickly become a necessity.

Reassembling the rifle, I put it away and took another one from the pile, repeating the process. The next few hours were spent in silence, with only the metallic sounds of me disassembling and reassembling the weapons filling the room.

"Mr. Wolfe?"

A voice made me raise my head from my task just as I finished reassembling the last shotgun. In the doorway stood the medic woman, looking hesitantly at me.

"Yes Ms...?"

"Vernay. Jessica Vernay." She replied. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

I looked at her before putting aside the reassembled gun and leaned back in my seat. "Ask away, Jessica. Although, keep in mind that I reserve the right to answer or not."

With a nod, she sat down in front of me, her ruby colored irises staring into my helmet. "Why are you doing this?" she asked after a moment. "I know the others are mostly motivated by revenge or rightful anger, but what could make a soldier such as yourself to agree to this?"

"To put it simply, I am finding myself in need of resources." I told her. "Beyond doing what is right and making sure these pirates can never plague the galaxy ever again, this is also an opportunity for me to acquire a not so insignificant amount of capital that I will sorely need for the future."

"So you're doing this for money?" She asked with a frown.

"No." I refuted. "If I was in this only for the money, I would have asked for a reward from Hektor -Mr. Salvail- the moment the raid was over. As it is, I'm trying to stay under the radar of the influential people of the galaxy until I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

"That, I will not tell you. I'll only say I intend to create an organization for my own purposes and this operation is the first step toward that goal."

"Do you wish to create a mercenary group then?"

I snorted. "Please, I'm not so stupid as to imagine any group I could create would be able to compete with the already existing ones." The Blood Pack, Eclipse and Blue Suns would quickly eat up any newcomer in their territory. "But even now this is only a project. Who knows how long it might take and how successful it might be."

I only had the bare bones of a plan at the moment. BT would help me refine it in time, of course, but I had to start somewhere.

"Anything else?" I asked Jessica, who seemed lost in thoughts.

"Just one." She paused, narrowing her eyes at me. "Are you a deserter running away from the Alliance?"

I blinked behind my helmet as the question registered in my mind and I couldn't help the short burst of laughter that escaped me. The woman scowled and raised my hands in a placating manner as I calmed myself.

"While you couldn't be any farther from the truth, I might as well be." I answered, my shoulders shaking with mirth. "I'm an unknown human with obvious military training in possession of a combat suit of unknown design and a mech the likes of which have never been seen before. If that doesn't make the Alliance raise red flags everywhere in order to find me, I'll eat my boots."

Which also meant Cerberus would also be on my trail faster than I would like. But I was confident we would be able to cover our tracks for a while.

"If that is all, there are still…" I checked the time. "Almost five hours left before we arrive into the Mil System. As we'll have one more training session in half an hour, can I ask you to rouse the others?" I said as I rose from my seat and collected the weapons in the crate I had used to carry them in the first place before walking past Jessica, whom I heard move a couple of seconds after me.

As promised, I spent another one and a half hour drilling the basics of combat into the dozen people on the ship. Once I was satisfied with them, I sent them away to take a few hours of sleep to make sure they'd be in top condition before the assault began.

As for myself, unable to sleep, I decided to join Emma back in the cockpit, engaging in quiet conversation with her. I learned that her parents had died in a ship accident when she had been very young, which had placed her in the custody of her only alive relative: her grandfather. The man, whose name was Frederick Nightingale, had only just retired from his service as an Alliance pilot and was watching over his infant granddaughter when tragedy struck. From that day on, it had only been Emma and her grandfather, the man taking another job in order to support her education. As the years went by, he had taught her many things, even passing down to her everything he knew about piloting.

"He didn't want me to die the same way my parents did." Was her answer when I asked her why he had done so. "That, and it was his passion. Something that I also inherited from him."

In return, I told her about my own late mentor, Taï Lastimosa, who had been the one to teach me what it meant to be a Titan pilot, while carefully omitting anything that would reveal too much. I told her he had been the one to take me under his wing after I'd lost my whole squad, leading up to the point where I officially became his apprentice.

"He's the one who left me my suit and BT when he died." I said lowly. "They were his, originally, but we had no other option."

"You respected him a lot." Emma stated.

I nodded and we relapsed into silence. The only other person person that I had respected above Lastimosa, aside from my own family, had been Sarah Briggs, the commander of the Militia and the Marauder Corps. The woman had charisma and a no-nonsense attitude that just made you straighten your spine in her presence. That, and she cared for her soldiers, which was more than you could say for most military officers out there.

It also made me wonder what kind of person Shepard would be, when I would meet her.

"Hey look, here it is: Sigurd's Relay." Emma said, bringing me out of my musing, and I inched closer to the port side window to gaze for the first time at the gigantic transit device.

The first thing I noticed was, of course, its massive blue glowing core made of Element Zero at the center of a set of five revolving rings. Those same rings were surrounded by two long curved arms made of a metallic material that gave the Relay, in my opinion, an appearance not unlike that of gun's barrel.

Then again, seeing that a Relay was used to propel ships across the galaxy like a bullet out of a gun , I might've been onto something.

"We'll be reaching the Mil system in about one hour, and the asteroid belt in one hour and twenty minutes." Emma announced and I blinked in surprised behind my helmet. Had we been talking that long?

"I'll go wake the others up, then." I said before standing up and making my way back to the cargo hold, where cots had been set for everyone to sleep and rest on.

In short order, I had all twelve of them up and gearing up for the assault.

It was time.

Raider base - Asteroid belt of the Mil System - March 23rd 2181 CE, 17:48 pm Earth Time

Prark Denpaba was starting to get frustrated. Fezis and the others should have been back by now. Although he knew his fellow batarian had a tendency to indulge his urges instead of simply grabbing the loot and flying away, this was a bit too much, even for him.

Had the intel been incorrect, then? Could the humans have better defenses than what they had been told about? No, the Hegemony had assured them this wasn't the case and they had carefully monitored that colony before giving the order.

Maybe they had encountered some kind of complication on the way? Perhaps a mercenary ship or another crew of pirates? Possible, but the probability was low since the Titan Nebula was more or less unexplored space as it was.

With a sigh, Park rubbed the space between his four eyes in an effort to calm himself down. It's nothing, he tried to tell himself, just Fezis who might have lost track of time without anyone having to remind him.

And yet, the hours passed and still no sign of him. The comms were silent, as was the radar, and the stress was starting to get to Prark. He was close, oh so close, to go vent his tension and frustration on one of the prisoners but he held himself back. Damaged merchandise didn't sell well, after all.

"Sir! We've got a friendly inbound!"

Finally!

"Put it on screen, now!" Prark barked, all but running to the man who had alerted him.

"Patching it through."

A few button presses and the display of the camera surveillance inside the base switched to that of the cameras outside. And there, on the screen-

"Only one...?" Prark muttered in confusion. "Raise them!" he ordered. He needed to know what was going on!

With a nod, the other Batarian -Darok, he remembered- pressed a few other buttons and waited a few moments before turning to his superior. "They aren't responding, sir. The transmission isn't even going through. Their comm system must be damaged."

Prark tensed a bit more. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. "Check for other signatures and signal them to land outside the docking bay."

"Scanning." Darok waited another beat. "Negative, only one ship, sir. Signaling approach vector."

Slowly, the ship gave an 'acknowledged' signal back and changed trajectories. Prark relaxed somewhat. Not a suicide ship then.

"I'm going to meet them at the landing pad. Keep radio contact." He said before marching out of the room without waiting for a reply. As he made his way, he encountered a few other minions he couldn't bother remember the names of "You four, with me. Helmets on." he gestured and they quickly fell in step behind after exchanging glances. They arrived at the landing pad just in time to see the ship touch down.

"Doesn't look damaged. Think it had a malfunction?"

"Nah, they'd have come back sooner otherwise. What do you think, Prark ?"

"I think you need to shut up. We'll have our answers soon enough." He snapped at them before turning his attention back to the ship. After several moments of the waiting, the doors finally started to open and Prark marched toward it expectantly.

Only to be met with the barrel of a Terminator shotgun.

Slowly, Prark's four eyes followed the gun's barrel to the hands that held it, then up the arms and all the way to the owner of said arms' strange helmet which had a glowing blue visor.

"...Wha-"

The shotgun's muzzle flashed and Prark knew no more.

Bathythia Caliix's eyes snapped open as the blaring alarm sound registered to her senses. Switfly, the Asari rose from the ground, internally wincing at the pain in her back, and moved to the security grid that separated the room she and the other prisoners were kept in from the rest of this awful place.

Discretely, she looked to either side of the corridor, not seeing the batarians guards that were usually posted at the entrance of their cell.

"Mother, what's going on?"

Bathythia turned to look at another Asari that was slowly sitting up from the ground, rubbing her temples. This was her maiden daughter, Nis'sa. "I am unsure, Nis'sa. Our guards are gone and this alarm is something that has never happened before." she replied.

"Spirits! Could someone have finally come to rescue us?!" a Turian -Tiruns, she identified from his facial markings- exclaimed.

"Unlikely." Aerarth, a female Salarian with light purple skin, scoffed. "Who would ever come and rescue us in the Terminus Systems? No, if anything this is a raid by other pirates or mercenaries, neither of which bodes well for us."

A distant rumble, most likely caused by an explosion, followed her words.

"Nevertheless." Bathythia interjected before any argument could begin. "This might be our best chance at freedom. Faan, is it ready?"

Faan'Tiss, a Quarian engineer who had been there long before any of them, activated his hidden omni-tool. "Technically, yes. But without any tests, I am unsure how effective it will be or how long it will last." he drawled.

"It will have to do. What about the biotic dampeners?"

"Now that one," he fiddled a bit with the orange holographic device before waving his hand and several bracers clicked open before falling to the ground "has been ready for quite a while."

Bathythia let out a short sigh of relief, as did her daughter along the other few Asaris and biotics, as the connection to the powers she'd had since her birth was reestablished for the first time in weeks. Then, her face hardened and a corona of biotic energy flashed into existence around her as she turned toward the security grid of their cell. Slowly, she raised her right arm and threw it forward.

A pulse of biotic power slammed against the grid and the doorway exploded as a result from the powerful Shockwave she has just unleashed.

"Let us go." she simply said as she stalked forward and her fellow prisoners cheered before following her.

It was time she reminded those four-eyed scums that you did NOT fuck with a Matriarch. Especially an ex-commando.

"Stay in formation, eyes forward and watch your flanks!" I barked as I dropped a scrambling Batarian with a single trigger pull of my borrowed Hurricane shotgun.

'So far, so good.' I thought as we continued our advance deeper inside the base. 'No serious injuries and little resistance met. Either we took them completely by surprise and the lack of leadership threw them into disarray or they're currently regrouping somewhere else.'

Aside from a few engagements against the one group of batarians and some stragglers here and there, the base seemed for the most part empty. Each room we had checked had been void of any occupant. Then again, the alarm that was still blaring overhead probably had something to do with that.

"Turrets!" a shout snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned my gaze to the far end of the corridor. Four security turrets were sprouting from the walls and turning their targeting systems at us.

"Get behind me!" I shouted as I took the amp wall emitter off the small of my back and threw it in front of me. The orange wall of honey comb patterns sprang up just as the first rounds were fired, effectively protecting us from them.

Fifteen seconds.

"Do not move past that wall and get to cover." I told the others as I cloaked and darted forward.

Twelve seconds.

The thing about automated defenses, is that they're very predictable. Not once as I approached the first turret did their aim waver or did they detect me. Eight seconds. Jumping onto the farthest one, I ripped the plate hiding its control pannel and jammed my data knife into it. Five seconds. In just under three, the rings signifying the hacking of it turned from orange to blue and all the turrets stopped firing.

Two seconds. I flicked my gaze to the Amped Wall, which disappeared exactly as the countdown in my head reached zero.

Just to be sure, I quickly set a grenade inside each turrets' gun barrel and detonated them as soon as I was out of the explosion radius. In an instant, all four had been reduced to scrap metal.

"Clear." I said as I picked up the A-Wall emitter and clipped it to my belt.

Everyone was just looking at me slack-jawed.

I smiled behind my helmet, feeling somewhat proud of myself, before I slipped back into mission mode and snapped my fingers, bringing them back to reality. "As much as I feel honored by your appreciation of my skills, we still have a job to do."

That instantly sobered them and, with a grim nod, we forged onward.

It was only as we entered another room a few minutes later, which seemed to be the security and comm center, that things took a turn for the worse.

Barricaded behind what little furniture the room had -a few chairs and a table- were four Batarians aiming weapons at us. But that was the least of our worries.

"Throw down your weapons, or we will kill them!"

In front of the Batarians, effectively being used as both meat-shields and hostages, were half a dozen prisoners -some humans, others not- with glazed eyes staring at nothing. Just the mere sight of it made me grit my teeth in anger. But the fact that one of them was clearly a child just made my blood boil.

For a moment, no one moved. The others behind me were clearly waiting for a clue from my part and I knew we would be gunned down the moment we lowered our weapons. I had only one chance to salvage this, and hoped it would work.

With deliberate slow movements, I transferred my shotgun to my left hand and held it away from me before letting it fall to the ground.

The moment I let go and saw the Batarians' eyes follow my weapon, I drew my smart pistol as fast as I could, giving the system a snap second to lock onto the aliens' faces, and fired.

But even that wasn't quick enough.

One of them clearly had been watching my movements more than my weapon. And in that instant where I leveled my pistol at them, he fired.

And instead of four, six bodies hit the floor.

With a curse, I immediately was at the side of the unlucky Turian prisoner who had suffered the brunt of the volley fired by the Batarian. But even as I looked at him, I could tell he was already dead. One of the rounds had punched through his body where I knew the heart of his species was, according to the biology articles I had read about Turians.

"Was that the best way to do it?"

With a sigh, I closed the eyes of the prisoner before turning to the man who had spoken. "Perhaps, perhaps not. But it was always a possibility that I prepared for. I didn't expect us to be able to save every other person on this base, but I hoped we'd be able to." I said before rising to my feet. "In the end, the rescue of those people is a secondary objective behind that of our own survival. You can't save people if you're dead."

That said, I turned to Jessica, who was administrating medigel onto the other wounded, a young human woman, while performing a scan on her with her omni-tool. "How is she?" I asked

"She'll live." the medic replied. "But beyond those wounds, I'm picking up fading bruises, cracked ribs, hematomas, as well as the lingering results of... sexual assault." she said in a clipped tone.

The reactions from the others varied from sadness and horror to rightful anger and grim acceptance. I had warned them of what we might encounter when it came to the prisoners but, as they say, seeing is believing.

I didn't know how the Batarian government had managed to include slavery in their culutral heritage in a space faring age, nor did I have any interest in learning it. Most likely, it was a caste system dating from the ages where Batarians had been limited to their homeworld and that had had somehow managed to persist to this day.

"Do what you can. However, be mindful that there will most likely be others to help and treat." I told Jessica before I moved to the other prisoners, who were still staring into nothing.

'Now, how do I snap them out of it?' I wondered. Information on the way the control chip worked had been scarce. It was a secret that was closely garded by the Hegemony, for obvious reasons, and what BT had managed to find could be more or less resumed in two sentences.

One : The chip granted total control of its victim to whomever owned him or her.

Two : Trying to extract the chip without having 'access' could result in devastating consequences.

"Probably some kind of signal..." I muttered before snapping my fingers loudly. Which, no surprise, didn't have any effect. Now I kinda wished I had left one of the Batarians alive, if only to get the knowledge out of him.

I shook my head. 'Something to look into later. Focus on the mission.'

"Alright everyone, I want four of you to stay here and watch over them." I gestured to the prisoners before moving to the room's console. "While the others guard the door. Also, can someone help me display every camera feed inside the base?"

In short order, I had a visual of every available feed from the cameras. This revealed that most of the Batarians had holed themselves into the mess hall, which they had barricaded with tables and benches, making it easier to defend. There were also several prisoners standing in a semi-circle and acting as unwilling meat-shields.

However, other camera feeds weren't available, indicating that they had been destroyed. A quick look at the base's map showed that those were mainly around the wing where the prisoners cells were located. Bringing up recent footage from those cameras confirmed what I had thought : The prisoners were mounting an escape.

On one hand, it made things easier for us as the Batarians had to fight on two fronts. On the other, this could quickly turn into a three-way fight, something that I wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Is there a way to put me on speaker for the entire base, save the mess hall and its adjacent corridors, to hear?" I asked, not looking away from the camera feeds.

A quick confirmation was followed by a few button presses and I was live on radio.

"To all ex-prisoners, this is Ethan Wolfe, in charge of the assault on the base you are currently inside, speaking. Your former jailers have gathered in the mess hall and have barricaded themselves inside it. I would advise against assaulting it as things stand. Instead, I would like to direct you to the security room, where you will meet up with myself and those accompanying me. Once this matter has been resolved, I will see that you are returned to your homes and families. This I swear on my honor as a soldier."

I took a breath as I stepped back and turned my gaze to the monitor feeds again, carefully watching each feed for any sign of any Batarian while keeping an eye on the feed from the mess hall. It was a gamble on my part, as I had no way to predict what the reactions would be on both other parties.

'And now, we wait.'

Bathythia frowned thoughtfully as the message from the speaker system ended. While she could certainly trust that this did not come from the Batarians themselves, she did doubt the truth behind the words it contained.

"What do you think, Mother?" her daughter asked and she turned to look at her and the others standing behind her, who were muttering among themselves.

While their initial push had given them enough energy, thanks to the adrenaline in their system, to take control of the armory, followed by the med-bay in which they currently were in, it hadn't been without casualties on their side. Weeks with little food or liquids had quickly made them stop using biotics to avoid exhaustion, and without enough shield generators...

"I don't recognize the name, and I've lived long enough in the Terminus systems that I know most of the mercenaries who managed to make a name for themselves in this part of the galaxy." Tiruns spoke.

"He did swear on his honor as a soldier though, doesn't that count for something?" Nis'sa replied.

Aerarth scoffed. "Girl, honor means nothing in situations like these. It's just a fancy word."

"I say we make a break for one of the ships in the docking bay." Faan chimed in.

Bathythia brought a hand up, effectively silencing the room. "Arguing about it doesn't change our situation. Beside, this other group has most likely already secured the docking bay to make sure no one could escape. As things stand, we either continue to fight our way to freedom, in which case many of us will probably die, or we take a chance and see if we can hold this man to his word. Worst case scenario..." her biotics flared briefly. "We fight anyway."

Silence filled the med-bay for a moment before a middle-aged Human man with cropped blonde hair huffed something between a laugh and a sigh. "Screw it, anything's better than those four eyed bastards at this point." he said as he rose from his seating position against a wall and brought up his rifle. "And I don't know about you folks, but I ain't ready to give up after we've come so far."

"Well said." a female Turian with a bronze skin tone said, her mandibles flaring, before turning to Bathythia. "And if we must die, then say we do so with weapon in hand and taking as many of them as we can with us."

The matriarch looked around the room and smiled slightly at the looks of reolve on the faces of her fellow would-be escapees. It made her feel somewhat nostalgic of her commando years.

With a simple nod from her, they walked out of the medbay.

The walk through the base's corridors was brisk and tense, the silence only filled by the sound of their steps and breathing. The more they neared the security room, the more their hands clenched on their weapons.

However, as they entered the last corridor between them and their objective. Bathythia froze at what she saw was waiting for them by the doorway of the room.

His build identified the individual as male, and the five fingered hands with light skin color as a human, but beyond that Bathythia couldn't discern much from him aside that he had obvious military training. He wore a chest armor the likes of which she had never seen before, with a deep red undersuit beneath it along with some kind of harness. But the most catching feature was, without a doubt, the figure's helmet. It was of a grey-ish green color, with some kind of design she couldn't exactly see painted on the left side of it and a glowing blue visor that seemed to bore into her.

"Well met." The man spoke, and Bathythia instantly recognized his voice as the one who had spoken earlier through the speaker system. "I am Ethan Wolfe. Might I know who speaks for your group?" he asked, his posture lax but ready for anything.

The ex-commando stepped forward. "I am Matriarch Bathythia and I speak for us. Well met, Ethan Wolfe."

The man's visor turned slightly to her and he tilted his head a bit, as if in confusion. "...You're telling me those four-eyed fuckers managed to catch an Asari Matriarch without having being flayed alive? I find that a bit hard to believe." Bathythia's form bristled in anger and shame as he paused. "Then again, such a daring escape wouldn't have been easy to pull off without a proper plan."

"Who are you, exactly?" Tiruns interjected.

There was a light chuckle from the man. "Just a soldier trying to find his place in the galaxy." he replied before turning away and gesturing for them to follow him. "Now come. There are still Batarians that need to be dealt with."

Bathythia exhaled, letting go of the anger the man's words had stirred within her. Not a day had passed since her captivity that she hadn't wondered how she could have changed how things had happened.

But no matter how she turned it in her head, there had simply been two choices : either her daughter's life would have been forfeit or she had to let the Batarians capture her as well. She had thought them to be simple pirates and that they would ask for a ransom from the Republics. But only when she had learned that more than just pirates, they were slavers, had she realized the gravity of her mistake. Death would always be preferable to an eternity of torment and servitude. It was something all Asari maidens willing to venture outside of Council and the Republics' Space were taught once past their first century.

Bathythia had been prepared to end her daughter's life along with her own if their escape plan failed.

'Thankfully, it seems that I won't need to resort to this.' She mused as she followed the man inside the security room.

There were almost twenty people inside. Five of them, she recognized as fellow prisoners by their attire and the way they just... stood there, staring at nothing. She also noted the body of another, laid aside and covered with a jacket, along with the four Batarian corpses pilled at the other end of the room. As for the others, they were all human wearing simple space suits and basic armor.

However, what stood out to her the most was the way they carried themselves. Surely she was imagining things. They couldn't be-

"Are you all civilians?" Someone behind her blurted out, voicing her thoughts.

"If by that you mean they are volunteers who decided to risk their lives to get revenge on these bastards and help you, then yes, most of them are civilians." Wolfe corrected. "But we do not have the time to argue about this. First, does any of you know how to break them out of this state?" he gestured to the immobile prisoners.

Faan'Tis stepped forward. "I've managed to create a program that scrambles the signal of the control chips. So far, it's been working with... various degrees of success, depending on the individual." the Quarian explained.

Which was true. While most of them had been able to ignore the batarians' orders, there had been some who hadn't been so lucky. Commands such as 'kill yourselves' had made a few victims before anyone could stop those influenced.

Was it due to how recently the chip had been implented? Or perhaps how strong willed the individual was? Questions that would probably remain unanswered.

"That's still impressive, nonetheless." the human praised. "It must have taken a great deal of time to create, however. How long have you been held here?"

Faan'Tis's shoulder slumped somewhat. "I didn't bother counting after a standard year. I was too... valuable to this place as a whole to be shipped away like others."

"And yet, you still held onto the hope that one day you'd be able to escape. Otherwise, you wouldn't have created this program. I think that speaks for itself." Wolfe said. "It's better to fight in any way you can than simply give up. Now," he turned to the others. "I want to know who amongst you still feel strong enough to fight. It's time that we end this."

Bathythia, along with her fellow prisoners, nodded. She was more than ready for this day to end.

As I examined the various people who had entered the room, about forty of them, I couldn't help but feel it had been a miracle that they suffered little casualties during their breakout. Most of them were showing early to old signs of malnutrition and physical -also, in some cases, sexual- assault.

It was a small mercy that the children among them, six in total, had been spared from the worse of it. They would probably be traumatised by the experience and, from what I could see, only two of them had a parent which had been captured with them.

With an internal sigh, I shifted my attention to those who still felt well enough to fight alongside the others and I, more specifically the supposed Asari Matriarch, who seemed to be the de-facto leader for the group.

She was one of the few who had any kind of military training, from what I could see, and she certainly seemed more composed than the other Asaris but other than that I had no way of telling if she truly was a Matriarch.

"BT." I spoke, cutting the helmet speaker. "Can you please search for a 'Matriarch Bathythia'?"

"Acknowledged. Searching, please stand by." came the response after a couple of seconds. Half a minute later, the Titan spoke again. "Records found. Matriarch Bathythia Caliix and her daughter Nis'sa Caliix have been reported missing by the Asari Republics one Galactic standard month, two weeks and five days ago. Their last known location was around the Crescent Nebula, after which all communications were lost."

'So she seems to be telling the truth.' I mused as I looked at her from my peripheral vision. 'I wonder what it will mean for me in the future. I hoped to avoid notice from the greater powers of the galaxy but if she's Matriarch with even a bit of political power, this could either be very good or very bad.'

I cast away those thoughts and focused back on the present. I could worry about that later.

"Alright everyone, gather around." I said as I gestured them closer. "I think it's high time that we finish this."

And so we planned

We already knew that the Batarians were holed up inside the mess hall with a dozen or so hostages. While this might have seemed like a smart move, as only a few of us could come in at the same time, those idiots, rather than trying to ambush us in the corridors, had effectively trapped themselves.

If we'd had sleep gas canisters, this would have been already over. However, we did not, so I had to improvise.

With the help of the Quarian engineer Fan'Tiss, it didn't take much time to get a complete blueprint of the base, including several things that didn't appear in the base design available in the database... in particular several air ducts leading right above the ceiling of the mess hall.

And once we were in position, the bastards didn't even hear or see us coming.

Fist the lights went out, courtesy of our Quarian engineer, plunging the mess hall into obscurity. And before the Batarians could truly react, I dropped from an opening in the ceiling and threw a Pulse Blade into the ground. In an instant, I could see everything in the mess hall while my enemies were still blinded by the sudden darkness and fumbling to activate the flashlights on their weapons.

What followed was nothing short of a slaughter. I weaved between tables and Batarians like a shadow, my Cloaking ability masking the glow of my helmet while my data knife carved a bloody river as I went. From above, my allies released a hail of mass accelerated slugs on any Batarian that managed to turn on a flashlight or fired blindly. Before long, the last body had hit the ground, leaving the hall filed with naught but the drip-drop sound of blood falling to the ground and the moans of the dying pirates.

With a sigh, I cleaned the data knife as best as I could of leftover blood and sheated it. "Clear." I spoke into the comm. The lights came back and the others started coming down from the vents, giving me looks ranging from awed to slight fear and grimaces of disgust. I didn't need to look into a mirror to know that my suit probably looked like I had bathed in Batarian blood. I sent a regretfull look to the few hostages who'd been hit by unfortunate stray shots, one of them having killed an Asari by going straight through her head.

"We're done here." I said before making my way back to the security room. "Let's grab whatever looks useful or valuable and leave. This is no place for celebration."

The next few hours, I spent hoarding away whatever material resources the Batarians had kept into the carrier ship while Miss Vernier and Aerarth, who was in fact a Salarian medic, treated injuries and gave everyone food and drink. With the adrenaline rush gone and their stomach filled for the first time in weeks, if not months, most of the ex-prisoners save for a few had fallen into restful slumber, which I was loathe to wake them from, inside the crew quarters on the ship.

'Hopefully, the Alliance will be able to help these people.' I thought as I pushed one last crate of the mineral known as Palladium into the cargo hold. With a grunt, I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck from side to side before giving a quiet sigh of relief.

"Is that the last of them?" a feminine voice asked and I turned to see Emma walking into the cargo hold.

"Yeah, we're good to go." I replied. "Ready to blow this whole place to kingdom come?"

The blond gave me an eager grin. "You bet."

Fun fact about this base: the pirates had implemented a remote self-destruct sequence into it. In case of a prisoner outbreak getting out of control, the Batarians would have simply taken the ships off the station before blowing it up. I had linked the sequence to Emma's omni-tool upon finding it and she was more than agreeable to destroy the place.

"Then let's do this and go home." I told her, smiling back from behind my helmet.

Emma didn't waste any time and dashed back to the cockpit with an excited exclamation. As soon as she was gone, my gaze turned to other person in the cargo hold: Matriarch Bathythia. The Asari looked back at me with an indecipherable look from her position against the wall.

"Is there something you want?" I asked.

She blinked. "Part of me is filled with questions, but I doubt that you would answer them. You have my -our- gratitude for rescuing us and I do not wish to repay such a debt by becoming inquisitive." she replied, pushing herself off the wall. "But I must admit that you intrigue me. Solo mercenaries with skill such as yourself usually make quite a name for themselves. Yet, I do not recognize your name nor do I know of any manufacturer who could make such an intricate and unique suit. And I made my research long before coming to this Goddess forsaken Space."

I mulled over my options for a moment. "You could say I'm just starting in this field of work. I do not intend to remain a mercenary forever, but it will help my goals for now. I do not operate in Citadel Space because it would inevitably grab the attention of the Council, not to mention the Alliance, and other... unsavory parties." I replied. "Lastly, my secrets are my own and I do not wish to share them with you at this time."

"Secrets are something we Matriarchs know very well. You do not live as long as we do without learning, keeping and, sometimes, sharing these. But, as I said, I will respect your privacy and will not pry you for answers I have no right to." Her lips quirked a bit. "Although, bear in mind that I doubt your anonymity will last much longer."

"I am well aware of that. It just needs to last long enough for me to properly get started."

The fact that BT was still working on suppressing any leak onto the Extranet was telling. I probably had a few weeks to a couple of months (If I was optimistic) before anyone troublesome might come looking for me, and while going underground would be a good option, BT wasn't exactly easy to transport or hide.

"Whatever your goals are, they sound like something big and long term." Bathythia hummed. "And if there's one thing Asari are good at, it would be long term planning." She then turned to gaze fixedly at my helmet. "If I were to offer you my aid in your endeavor, would you accept?"

"...Pardon?"I couldn't contain the bafflement I was feeling out of my voice at the outrageous offer she had just made to me. "I get that you feel indebted to me, but what you're proposing is just absurd. You do not know me, you do not know my goals. Hell, for all you know, what I told you could be a lie!"

"As I said, you intruigue me. However, I would ask something of you in exchange."

'Ah. So that's what she was after. As expect of an Asari Matriarch.'

From what I remembered of the games, most of the Asari that were even slightly relevant were manipulative to a certain degree. From Sha'ira the Consort all the way to the Council of Matriarchs who sent Aethythia to keep an eye on Liara with Aria T'Loak in between, all of them had influence which they used in various ways to further their own ends, whatever they might be. This was no different.

'Still,' I reasoned, 'this might an opportunity that I cannot miss.'

"And that would entail... what, exactly?" I asked wearily.

She answered.

For a moment, my mind blanked. The sheer incredulity of what she'd just say overwhelming me. Then, I laughed. It was only a chuckle at first but soon it descended into the first full blown laughter I'd had in a long time.

"I do not see how you would find such a thing... hilarious." Bathythia commented dryly at my outburst.

"Apologies." I raised a placating hand, still chuckling. "Indeed, this is no laughing matter, but I was NOT expecting this." I coughed and straightened myself. "But if that is the condition for your aid, then I accept." I said as I extended a hand to her.

And with that simple handshake, the future of the Galaxy was changed drastically.

Hello ladies and gentlemen, MidnightFenrir here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if there is any feedback you'd like to provide, feel free to review!

Baseless flaming shall be as always, ignored.

I won't lie. The huge delay for this update has been mainly due to the fact that I got my new computer and bought Monster Hunter World. That game is, quite simply, addicting.

Hopefully, next chapter won't take so long, but I'd like to work on my other stories too. But, like for all full time workers (I think), free time is a valuable resource that I never seem to have enough of.

This is MidnightFenrir, signing out.