/* May 17th 2021 Update. I updated some of the writings, because the direction I was writing toward didn't work out like I wanted it. So I revised some of the things here to make it flow better for the next chapter which I'm rewriting. Besides that thank you all for reading my shitty writings, I recommend that if you haven't read LP's OSABC or Siege of Shanxi, both excellent ME fics, you should read all of it and then come back to this comparative sewer.. */
6.87H 10M 2819Y (Galactic Standard Time)
Systems Alliance: Exodus Cluster: Interstellar Space
SSV Normandy SR1: Cargo/Engineering Deck: Observing
Humans were weird.
But understandably so, Nihlus reasoned, while observing Shepard at a comfortable distance. No species who suffered 47 galactic years of slave raids by the Batarians before kicking them off their planet would follow normal space faring species development. There were bound to be drastic sociological and psychological patterns that would spawn from such an experience. Xenophobia, isolationism, human-centrism being the most visible he had seen and heard from the Normandy's crew.
The whole species was traumatized from it. And still being traumatized considering how many humans were still enslaved within the Hegemony and beyond. From that trauma, darker emotions are born. Fear, rage, jealousy and envy, are but few of the dark spirits that haunt them. Didn't help that his people kicked them in their gonads when they were down, he supposed. But let those emotions blacken the spirit? You kill the person's spirit. When done to an entire species? You kill the species' spirit. From what he could gather from Shepard; she was the result of Humanity's spiritlessness.
For Shepard? She was an engineered weapon.
Nihlus had come to that conclusion from the scant few minutes that he laid his eyes upon her. She looked off, or at least more off compared to regular human females. She smelled off too, like overengineered karap. Stranger still was that she was a biotic; he could feel her fields in his plates. Unlike most biotic humans he had met, her fields felt more similar to Hanar biotic. Utterly confounding, at first glance.
Further observation revealed something important he missed. Unlike her other humans she didn't blend with the local social hierarchy. She was an outsider that either didn't fit in, didn't know how to fit in or didn't care to fit in.
Useful. Especially what the council intended for her.
Though potentially concerning given how she had risen to such a high command, without learning to lead or dominate subordinates into following her. Watching her practice and bark out commands to the ground team had shown him as much. Many followed her out of fear or pure adherence to artificiality of human military hierarchy. Yet there was no social grace. All her conversations had been either pertaining to the mission or directly about the mission, focused a little too much. No joking, or comradery that he had seen in previous human military personnel. If Nihlus had to identify it, she was robotic or laser pointed to the extreme. Potentially unhealthy, especially considering her near suicidal plans. Though that could be said of much of humanity. A piece was missing here.
The worse part? Something familiar about her that made him scratch his plates in frustration. He thought he had seen her face before, those eyes of fires. Delving into Spectre Intelligence discovered what he hadn't put together himself.
The Artificer's Nightmare. The Bane of the Hegemons. The Svetovid. Now the Nightmare of Prorok.
An impossible spirit that had alluded his talons for the last decade. He had hunted her across much of the Traverse, and was always two steps back. It was akin to a spirit hunt, a dangerous activity of futility as she would appear and disappear at random. With neither a trace on the wind nor droppings on the trail. A confounding mystery that his other spectres suggested was a series of carefully orchestrated flash clones or giant hoax/red herring of an unknown human death group. And now she was less than a second away from his claws if he so chose. Currently checking out hers and her team's gear in what passed as a cargo deck in this diminutive human frigate.
By the spirits of the hunt, wisdom and fire what was he going to tell the Council? That one of their most wanted fugitives that they've spent billions of credits and used dozens of Spectres agents to hunt was in fact a Systems Alliance death operative? The Council would shatter a moon.
His own compatriots would be less than helpful in this… situation he found himself in. Tela would be laughing right now, giving out some blithely ignorant asari saying. Avitus? He would be here mocking Nihlus's spirit hunt, implying he should shed his archaism. Jondum? He would start preparing for a fight. A friendly one, but a fight nonetheless. He would hate to think what Saren would do. Probably a slug to the head. If that could work, considering her known talents.
What was he going to do? He was supposed to evaluate this newest human champion that the humans had been pushing ever since they had joined the Citadel Union after the Relay 314 Incident. While the likelihood of them getting a Spectre agent was about the same chance that a Salarian dalatrass could shit out amber; his duty was paramount. Observe, evaluate and mentor her into something that if not a Spectre, at least mollified the humans.
Nonetheless this Shepard had potential.
She was a hunter just like him. Her achievements spoke for herself. Three Hegemons, Nineteen Merchant Princes, and over a hundred syndicate leaders slain. She had single handedly mauled so many SIU teams over the course of her "hunt" that the Batarians thought she was a fallen angel of Batar himself. Plus whatever that mess was on Prorok, if it was true. Which his spurs wobbled at the thought. And that was the deaths they knew about. Who knows how many other mass graves were out there with her claw marks over.
Yet if he could get her under Council control the opportunities would be immense. It would allow Spectre Intelligence increased insight into the nebulous world of human intelligence and death operations that the humans kept hidden behind an official cloud of incompetence. Maybe even gaining a look behind the Systems Alliance carefully manicured masquerade of being nothing more than a fragile alliance of primitives. If nothing else, then gaining a superbly competent human death operative compared to most her ilk.
The problem was to break that link of loyalty to the Systems Alliance, and that had to start with David Anderson. She demurred too much to him. Almost like a hatchling that follows the senior flock members out a misplaced sense of merit. And Anderson was watching her like an oppa watches a prey or its young, breaking it would not be easy.
He was a Spectre. Easy wasn't in the spirit damn job description.
First step? Conversation.
1932 Hour October 31st (UMC): Localized Time 05:31 Hours
Systems Alliance: Exodus Cluster: Utopia System
Eden Prime: Cain's Genesis: Prothean Dig site:
Her lancer barked bursts of hyper accelerated slugs down range, shredding the grey metallic monstrosity's shields and pinning it to the doorway of the prefab it had just come out of. The monstrosity flopped down; leaking omni-gel with exploding electronics and plasma munitions raining down shrapnel on the shields of the monstrosities behind it. She couldn't take advantage of that though as a full fusillade of plasma fire started to rip apart her position. She rolled, dodged and hopped out of the 2nd story of the prefab window she was in to avoid becoming like her comrades.
She landed in a heap of bodies of soldiers and researchers alike. Brutally executed with menacingly accurate fire that ripped through their shields and armor like christmas wrapping paper. And what remained was detached limbs, melted bodies and bloody lakes that pooled at the bottom. Digging her way out of the horrifying sight she sprinted across the wide open fields that served as the digsite's defense perimeter. Now it was a killing grounds; with bodies lying scattered on top of rows of uprooted GMO potato plants.
A few times she tripped, either on bodies or the grooves in the fields, but she wasn't fired on luckily. Behind her the digsite basecamp became a funeral pyre as the remaining buildings erupted into flames as the monstrosities burned out the last of the defenders. She didn't stop for a second as she fled into the surrounding Eden Prime undergrowth, heading unknown. She just tried to keep as much distance between her and them; a mission of survival.
Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams knew this was going to Shanxi all over again, only it wasn't Turians and Batarians this time. It was godsgone metallic robots from space with flashlights as heads and bodies that looked like a modern arts project. And plasma weaponry that made Alliance gear, which was already pretty inferior, look like something out of Napoleonic Wars.
The worst part Ashley thought, managing her way through the thick undergrowth, was she wasn't even supposed to be here. She had only been brought in to serve as the digsite armourer after the last one got a near-lethal infection from getting stung from one of the indigenious stinging insects. Even then that had more to do with her old commander taking an opportunity in transferring her out so he could wash himself being stuck with a Williams in his unit. More than ever though it was her fault.
If this was a test from God, she failed it. Utterly and absolutely. She had been praying for a combat posting even if she was in the Expeditionary Logistics, as a path towards washing away the shame of her family's past. So, helping servicing weapons and armor, putting together some of her custom mods and maybe helping defend the dig site from marauders sounded like a perfect way to do a solid A for the Alliance. Unfortunately for her, God answered her prayer with an opening orbital bombardment and thousands of silvered robots from space.
The problem was what was she able to do? Besides killing some of the weaker monstrosities and watching everyone in the base die? Diddly squat. She could have evacuated the researchers, maybe tried to organize everything when the CO got melted, maybe get the armoury open up. Too many soldiers and marines she saw died without a weapon. Or maybe she would be another corpse there, she thought darkly.
Ashley shook her mind off of the subject, and refocused on the here and now. She prayed for the souls left behind the camp and she asked God for forgiveness for her sins, before she returned to the task at hand. Quickly ducking below a low rocky overhang next to a bubbling stream she assessed what she had to work with, and developed a game plan.
Most of her armor electronics were fried when the monostrities denoted tactical EMPs across most of the Eastern hemisphere. Ostensibly to neutralize any defenses that would impede their advance. She still had a radio, however she guessed the flashlight heads would be conducting radio triangulating to hunt down survivors that way. So that was out. Still had a compass and she knew where she was, even after that headless escape into the wilderness. Ashley still had options.
Her own armor was in decent shape, even if it was 60 year old Phoenix armor, it's red highlights faded into an embarrassingly feminine pink. Against plasma munitions might as well be a cosplay costume. Her kinetic shields were ok, but her battery was damn near empty, probably partially melted. The only thing going for her was her heavily modded Lancer.
Modded with supercharged frictionless rails, kinetic coils that she spent half of her month's salary on, and a 4x scope; it was her ticket out here. Her baby could actually penetrate and deal damage to those monstrosities. Only problem was that the Lancer's heatsink nearly melted from the last engagement. Ashley guessed she could maybe do one or two more firefights before the weapon's case itself started melting. Then she would be left with her standard issue Predator, akin to shooting snot rockets at the flashlight heads she supposed.
She banged the back of her helmet against the rock she was leaning on. What a waste of a test of faith she growled to herself. When the attack occurred she was stuck at Captain Muller's office, filling out armory paperwork. If she was at her post she could at least have broken out the newly arrived Typhoons, or maybe organize a last stand at the armory doors. Instead of watching everyone around her get shredded by indiscriminate plasma munitions.
Focus Ash, God has a plan for you. He hasn't let you live this far without something else up His sleeve for you. She tried to reassure herself. It didn't work, she admitted. But it was better to keep her spirits up, than be on her knees and praying, when God's work happens through action.
She reoriented herself to what to do next. Hiding was out, since eventually the flashlights would fan out looking for survivors. She could keep heading into the wilderness, but that wouldn't help anyone but her stay alive. She was a Williams, not a coward. Restoring the family name was top priority. But going back to fight was suicide that wouldn't do a spit worth of help. Heading to the Prayer's Deliverance wasn't an option either, it took orbital kinetics from that funky looking dreadnought during the initial bombardment.
Eventually the Alliance will respond, she reasoned. Might not be for a day or two, depending on whether Warrant Officer Sokolov's distress beacon was intercepted before it could have hit the Alliance quantum routers. Or an entire colony going dark will have the brass in a confused quagmire, she supposed. Nonetheless, finding a position that would assist in the response would be vital. She had crucial intelligence on the enemies, a good idea of the topography and an idea what they were after, the beacon. Last time she saw that green glowing pillar was being examined by an entire company of those monstrosities, only for the beacon to fry them when one of them happened to touch it. Spooky.
To the north was the digsite, further beyond that the arcology and the space port. The east and west were heavily forested green zones that would make for harder landing zones, and harder fighting. Unideal locations for mechanized infantry land battles. To the south was Abel's Genesis, a rocky landscape punctuated by various native perennials that were harvested for their fruit, and wood by the locals. Given the many different valleys, rocky outcropping and atmospheric concealing foliage that would be the best place to go. As it would offer her ideal firing arcs, perfect ambush positions and a higher likelihood of other survivors congregating there. The only problem would be if the flashlight heads had any recon drones that could spot her, which would make it tricky.
Ashley's luck had held on for this long, maybe she wouldn't be spotted? She hoped and prayed at least.
Her luck was never that good to begin with, Ashley contemplated.
The monstrosities' recon drones were on her as she was just entering one of the first rocky culverts. A whole flock of them! Maybe seven or nine of them at a glance as she quickly ducked below a rocky crest, her hardsuit's boots nearly slipping on the wet gravel. She brought out her lancer, as she heard the sizzle and pop of exploding rocks. Plasma munitions detonating around her, narrowly missing her torso and shoulders.
The recon drones were maneuvering in a flying V formation, Ashley saw peeking out of the crest. Until they dispersed into three groups. One trio kept her pinned with plasma munitions. Another trio was conducting a wide flank to her east over a rocky ridge while the last group was positioning itself in an overwatch position. Ashley cursed, prayed and attacked.
Quickly standing up, she quickly took aim with the lancer and blew the first two drones with a burst each. Before repositioning herself to cover her flank with a boulder some distance away. The remaining drone took advantage of that and shredded her shields, with plasma munition narrowly missing her suit.
Taking cover behind the boulder, Ashley reoriented herself to the approaching electronic hum of mass effect engines as the second trio began their attack run on her. Switching out her hot lancer, she switched to her pistol.
Magnetically accelerated slugs slammed into the shields of the lead drone, causing it to carreen into the valley below it. The other two veered off, arcing away for a secondary flank while the overwatch group joined in pinning her down behind the boulder.
When there was a break in the fire; Ashley ran for a ditch 20 meters to her southwest, her shield able to soak most of the fire. However, when she skidded into the ditch, she caught two plasma rounds, both that pierced her armor in her kneecap and elbow. Dropping down to her good knee, Ashley turned, dropping two of the drones with wild panic fire. With adrenaline coursing through her veins she quickly applied medigel, before flopping into the ditch and crawling away as fast she could.
The rain of plasma munitions above her head signaled that her luck was about to run out, either Ashley could be a sitting duck when they reached her in her little ditch or she could try to run for it. Problem was there was nothing to run too, and her knee wasn't working as much as she wanted it too. But crawling in the ditch to die wasn't her style either.
Crawling to the ditch edge netted her more plasma fire, but it had helped Ashley confirm where the drones were. Two were currently performing a base of fire. Pinning her down while the other were two trying to envelope her sides. Left with no options, and little time Ashley decided to go out swinging.
The drones reached her sooner than she thought, cutting a rock in half not 8 centimeters from her head and grazing her right foot. Reacting quickly she threw her pistol up in the air, it's mass effect core set to maximum draw. Switching to her lancer, she fired.
The pistol failed to explode as she anticipated instead her rounds just broke the pistol in half. As they were falling to the ground, Ashley just had to laugh at herself. I guess my idea was pretty shit. I did steal that from an old movie afterall.
What saved her was the simultaneous electrical overloads of the drones above her. As well as the tell-tale sounds of Avenger fire splattering their intended targets and the drones' collisions with the earth. For a couple moments Ashley sat there, the adrenaline starting to fade, and the pain in her lower extremities rising. The crunch of gravel under hardsuit boots, alerted that her rescuers were here.
A pair of figures appeared, one standing over her while another one slid into her ditch and appraised her wounds. The medic was in white and blue highlighted Initiative armor, applying medigel and omnigel seals to her exposed wounds while the figure standing above her was wearing Onyx A hardsuit with a digital autumn camo pattern.
"Not bad, but not great." Said the recognizable voice of Warrant Officer Sokolov. "When we get you back, we are going to have to talk about how misusing military equipment based on vismedia action scenes will get you killed, Gunnery Chief. After we get you ready to go."
At this moment the white and blue highlighted soldier decided to speak, "She isn't too bad Warrant. A couple hours in a cell regenerator and skin graft will do the trick."
Ashley grunted trying to get up, before being dragged down by her leg and the medic, "I wasn't done Marine, the plasma shell burst opened your kneecap, rupturing the cartilage and possibly melting Patella. I would rather you keep pressure off of it."
Solokov looked the medic up and down, "We didn't bring a stretcher with us, any chance she can walk it off."
The medic shook his head, "Not without worsening the wound. We could carry her back?"
She looked at him in askance and up at Warrant Sokolov, "I'm a big girl, a little wound didn't slow me down at Apotheosis, this shouldn't slow me down now. Sir."
Sokolov and the medic exchanged a look, before the medic sighed. "Not likely. You stress that knee too much and it'll end up taking days to repairs not hours."
Ashley considered his point, as much as she hated being carried around like a fucking princess back to the castle, she identified a current of care that considering the circumstances was wierd. Maybe not warranted, but carrying her wounded ass back to where the fuck they came from was strangely comforting and confusing.
Ashley sighed, "Aye aye, Sir."
Sokolov signaled and pointed to several soldiers wearing EDSDF hoplite hardsuits, before turning to her. "Chief, you're the first bit of luck we've had since I've led these fucksticks here. As far as we were concerned, everyone else was dead. Finding you, tells us there may be other survivors that managed to circumvent the Geth patrols that have been killing and zombifying everyone and anything between here and deliverance. Ryder will want to debrief you to figure out our next moves. Understood marine?".
Ryder, Geth, Zombies? What in the flying fuck was Sokolov talking about. Ashley bit her lip before answering, "Ryder, as in Commander Ryder? The Hero?"
Sokolov appraised her, "Yes. Senior Commander Alec Ryder; N7 Paladin. Currently directing this mess, any more questions will wait till we get back."
He nodded toward the medic, "Scott carry our prize back to camp, your father will want to debrief her."
Now Ashley was confused, she tilted her head as the medic fiddled with an injector in his hands. "Who are you, Sir?"
The medic groaned at this question, his hands checking the seals before bringing the injector to the Ashley's armor's medicine injector port. "No one you need to worry about Chief."
For a moment Ashley resisted the sedative that this 'Scott' had given her, but soon it was too strong. She felt herself go limp and sleepy. Strong hands seemed to drag and drape her on someone's shoulders. Before the world started blurring and turning blacker. She heard one last thing before the blackness took her. "Geez, she's heavier than Sara. How am I going to carry her back to basecamp..."
2011 Hours October 31st (UMC)
Systems Alliance: Exodus Cluster: Edge of Utopia System Defense Sphere
SSV Normandy SR1: Cargo Bay
Shepard was becoming annoyed. While on the surface the ground team was somewhat adequately equipped as a space borne interdiction team, they were wholly lacking as a planetary insertion force. Besides the M35A3 OI-IFV, she didn't have a single anti-materiel or anti-tank option in her strike force. Not even Cobra RPGs. Only thing she had was an experienced Sentinel, marines equipped with shoddy Avengers and even shoddier Onyx A hardsuits, as well as her and the creepy spectre who was staring at her ass. Sorry Nihlus I don't go down on all tall, dark and spiky.
It was quite the change from going from IntelNet near limitless purse strings to hoofing it with the grunts so to speak. Best she could do was overcharge the marine's weapons acceleration rails, it would allow far greater kinetic punch though the recoil should be mitigated by the kinetic coils that Jenkins provided. Of course, more than a day of firing would leave them fried or demagged but with the Utopia System gone quiet, her gut was screaming that these weren't pirates or marauders. She had to make her luck here.
Didn't help she was practically skinning dipping in this armor that Anderson gave her, it was far too skintight and over reliant on its shielding for her tastes. But with her weapons and armor locked away back on Tribute, she just had to use what she had available. Still even her monomolecular sword would have bigger help than Avengers. She'll just have to abuse her biotics to an excessive degree.
The Normandy's intercom sounded in the cargo, "Commander Shepard and Spectre Nihlus please come to the comm room at once."
Shepard eyed Nihlus, before setting down the Avenger. "Kaidan, Valentine. I want extra shield batteries on every hardsuit by the time I return. They should give us enough buffer to take a couple bursts down there."
Valentine nodded, though Kaidan gave a questioning look as Shepard headed toward the lift. "Commander that would drain the hardsuits generators in a fairly short time, shouldn't it be better…"
Shepard cut him off when she entered the lift, "Lieutenant this is a smash and grab operation. We'll probably be on the ground for a maximum of a couple hours. Getting wounded would bog us down, leading instead of a battle of maneuver to a battle of attrition."
As the doors of the lift closed she saw Kaidan nod to this, Shepard sighed. Pushing a hand through her hair, Nihlus spoke to her.
"Stuffing shield batteries into your hardsuits isn't going to work if the enemies have phasic rounds, Commander" He said, his harmonics vibrating in the lift.
She looked up at him, "If they have phasic rounds we're already dead on arrival. What with our suits being just kevlar layered on a centimeter of ferromagnetic gel. Better if the marines have a higher shield buffer, a slower recharge. It'll give the marines a greater room for error against whatever took out Eden Prime." She was really starting to hate this sedate elevator, she had seen elcor walk faster than this could climb.
His mandibles flared, "You seem sure that this loss of communication isn't just another of your species' technical flare ups."
Shepard shrugged, "T-QEC is far more unreliable than C-ART that is true. However, I can't seem to think of a time where T-QEC just dropped off the map along with the system's secondaries, tertiaries or quadraries, besides Shanxi or Neo-Prague."
As the lift doors opened, Nihlus cocked his head. "And the technology that did both is strictly controlled by the council species members. However, paranoia is healthy in this case. The last beacon discovered accelerated my own people's technology base by several hundred years. Not everyone would want that to occur to your species."
Shepard twirled her fingers leading the way up the stairs, "I think you're forgetting that the SA is not a single species government. We've got Batarians, Qa'Eelyans, and Lholons under our banner, not to mention many Citadel and Terminus species that have been granted granted humans are the majority."
Nihlus flared his mandibles, "Those are client species Commander. They may have some limited contribution to your government, but I doubt your people would allow them to become a SA Premier or Prime Minister would they?"
Shepard shrugged, this was a topic she never put much thought in herself. "Most likely no, but they participate in elections and a few serve in the Parliament. More than can be said about the council species' client species."
Nihlus stopped short before the communications room, his claws resting behind his back. "Perhaps Commander, though I sincerely doubt many Volus would want to participate in cuttplate politics of the hierarchy, or Elcor would care of Salarian breeding contracts. Each serves their own species, bringing benefits that help both them and their patrons. "
Shepard responded as she walked into the comm room, "And maybe that's why the Volus are so eager to get on the council? They want to participate in some fashion."
The Normandy's communications room was one part server room, one part communications room, two parts briefing room and several parts whatever it needed to be in the moment room. Stuffed with the Normandy's IT servers and all it's important galactic communications equipment. It was a cramped space at the best of times. More so now as several haptic full bodies simulations were displayed in the back talking with Captain Anderson. Three to be exact, one Salarian, one Asari, one Turian. .
She heard the end of the conversation as she walked in, "With all due respect, councilors, I don't believe the Normandy is equipped to handle this sort of mission."
The Turian responded, "Considering the IES technology on board the Normandy and the reputation of your so called 'Nightmare of Prorok' as well as Spectre Nihlus. I would say you are more than capable of responding to this, Captain."
Captain Anderson considered this for a moment, before noticing her and Nihlus behind him. He motioned them forward, and began the introduction. "Excuse the interruption honored councilors, as requested this is Commander Shepard. Commander Shepard, this is the Citadel Council."
From what her old IntelNet superiors called the supreme alien triumvirate, they certainly didn't look or dress it. The Asari had expressive siari white tattoos that looked of the mountain variety. It was wearing a red and white ankle length dress that spoke of extreme conservatism considering normal Asari wear. The Turian wore a traditional blue and black Turian blackwatch's officer uniform, without ordination, making it hard for Shepard to identify his background. The Salarian wore a hooded poncho that partially concealed his matt black body suit that covered his extremities, signifying his likelihood of being a priest of the wheel. All together she was facing an Asari Scion, a Blackwatch Officer, and Wheel Priest. Not the picture she would have thought of as three of the most powerful persons in the galaxy.
The Asari declined her head and gave an Athamist gesture of greeting, "Commander Shepard, I'm councilor Tevos, with me our councilors Sparatus and Valern." She gestured respectively to her Turian and Salarian counterparts, before nodding at Nihlus. "And Spectre Nihlus, excellent you are here as well. Important events have occurred that require an immediate response."
Nihlus flared his mandibles to maximum yaw, before Shepard crossed her arms, "Are we being redirected ma'am?"
The one called Valern responded, "Not at all Commander Shepard. Current intelligence reports that a Geth Armada has invaded this so-called 'Utopia' System. We are directing you and Spectre Nihlus to retrieve the beacon at the earliest possible appointed time, before withdrawing from the system. We've already informed the Systems Alliance, and have offered our assistance in removing this most inappropriate invasion."
Shepard saw that Nihlus nearly spat fire at this. His claws nearly breaking out of his armored gauntlets, and his mandibles wobbling back and forth in agitation. "By the spirits of honor and bravery! How did they get through the Citadel blockade of the… [attempting translation, 98% likelihood Perseus Veil]?!"
Shepard herself tried to digest that info. Careful to keep her face blank. As far as she was aware, the Geth and the SA had a secret mutual defense agreement. Unless something had changed in the last year that she wasn't aware of? This was going to cause so many firestorms Shepard thought. Looking back at the councillors, "I have to concur with Spectre Nihilus councilors. The Geth haven't been out of the Perseus Veil in three centuries."
Sparatus answered in turn, " We ourselves were skeptical at the first reports. However, it was confirmed that a large fleet broke through the blockade three days ago. Subsequent evaluations suggested they may have been after the Migrant fleet considering past Geth actions."
Councilor Valern picked where Sparatus ended, "Current STG projections instead point to the Geth cyberwarfare runtimes uncovering the Systems Alliance newly discovered Prothean beacon. They may wish to attain technological parity through exploitation of the potential inside of them. We cannot let that happen."
Tevos nodded, "It is thus the Council's decision to task both of you in retrieving the beacon to the Citadel. Citadel fleets are currently moving to intercept or blocking positions along major relays in case the Geth try to retreat back to the Veil. Additional Spectre reinforcements are in route, with estimated time of arrivals far too late to assist. Civilian evacuation is countermanded unless related to evacuation of the beacon. Civilian interference is liable for immediate execution or detainment per your discretion Spectre Nihlus and Commander Shepard."
Nihlus nodded, "Does the Spectre Intelligence have any hard facts on ground numbers or fleet strength honored councilors?"
Valern blinked, "We believe that the Geth currently possesses an impressive array of ships, excess 300 frigates, 200 drone carriers, 120 cruisers of various sorts, 20 dreadnaughts, and a single super-titan."
Shepard now understood why Anderson was so uneasy. The armada was practically the firepower of a half of the Systems Alliance Space Forces in tonnage, a sixth in the number of space vehicles. There was no way SASF would ever dream of engaging that. They were too spread out, or camping the Batarian relays to concentrate enough to deal with that force. Utopia was already lost. Another gravestone to the limits of so called human expansions and ideals. Still her mission was still possible as long as they weren't detected.
Shepard nodded, "Do we know if the Geth have hit groundside councilors."
Tevos looked over at Valern who spreaded his fingers out in the Salarian version of a confirmation. "We believe so Commander. Our last report from our ground observer before we lost contact with them was of an initial orbital bombardment with several legion strength units of geth infantry with anti-vehicular and mech support landing around Prayer's Deliverance arcology. Currently we believe based on the report, that the beacon is currently defended by SA ground personnel. Though for how long, we cannot estimate."
Sparatus completed the debrief, "You are to link with SA ground personnel if still alive, or any other available forces and relieve the beacon from the Geth. Failing that, the beacon must be destroyed before it can fall into Geth hands. Geth are already a menace. With the beacon schematics and data, it would cause a galactic war on the scale of the Rachni Wars. The Council cannot allow that to come to pass"
Nihlus bowed, "By the will of the spirits of wisdom and luck councilors we shall succeed in this most trivial task."
Tevos inclined her head, "Excellent. Commander Shepard, you are to follow Spectre Nihlus directions and commands as per our understanding with the SA government." She nodded toward Anderson. "Captain Anderson has already been informed with the latest intelligence. If you have any more questions, he'll answer such."
With that the holograms vanished without so much as a goodbye from the councilors. Shepard saw Anderson deflate for a second, before standing a little taller and looking a little sharper. "This mission just got a lot more complicated."