"EDI, can you send the report that Chief Baird compiled for me to my omnitool? I also need you to display the logs for every attempted use of the QEC over the past week and a half, starting about 2 days before we picked up the Chief," came the Commander's first order after he ensured there were no eavesdroppers within the medical bay that he had slinked back into.

Instead of immediately replying, the ship's artificial intelligence just did as asked, and Shepard's omnitool pinged softly with the notification. Opening up the report, he filtered in order to display every anomaly that would have signified a quantum entanglement transmission. With a few taps on his omnitool, and using the holographic display nearby his bed, he proceeded to line up each occurrence of the anomaly with a logged usage of the QEC room. What he saw surprised him, both pleasantly and un-so. They didn't match. There were a total of three extra anomalies that had not been logged using the shipboard QEC's computer. It seemed that the theory that EDI, Chief Baird, and himself had postulated had some weight behind it. Someone was using an extra transmission device to communicate with outsiders.

He immediately reached for his sidearm out of force of habit, something he had brought back from the armory on his trip down. It was a comfort thing, but he had a sudden urge upon finding out about this information that their situation was slightly more dire than previously thought. Before, it was more of a suspicion that there was a traitor aboard. Now, it was more or less confirmed. Well, he shouldn't say that yet, he had only found that extra communications happened, not what they actually contained.

"EDI, can you pull up the times and positions aboard the ship that each of these extra anomalies was logged? I need to find out what's going on on my ship."

"Yes Commander. The time of each anomaly is listed as August 1st- 1830 hours, the second on August 4th at 1415 hours, with the most recent and final listed at 0600 hours on August 5th. There are only two sensor suites with the necessary software and hardware to record said data, so I am still working on extrapolating the locations of each call."

That was interesting... From what he was able to remember, the first incident coincided very closely with the arrival of the Master Chief aboard the Normandy, with the call being placed almost an hour later. What did that mean? He would need to find out a little bit more in order to come up with any sort of conclusion on the matter. The next two calls were also interesting, with one being sometime after the crew had disembarked for the mission on Noveria. In fact... only a few hours after. They couldn't have been down there for long while the call was being placed. The third coincided roughly to a few hours after the retrieval of the team had been completed. It didn't exactly clear anything up, except possibly exempt the combat crew from any possibility of being a part of it. If they were all down on Noveria, they couldn't have been the ones to initiate the call. Well, all except for Tali, Vega, and... the Master Chief.

He tried to picture what he envisioned each of the messages to contain. The first - successful pickup of the Spartan aboard the Normandy, and a possible update on the details of his arrival. The second, a message that the operation to capture Shepard was under way, and the third, mission failure.

"EDI, you wouldn't happen to have any security camera footage from those three incidents, would you?" He asked, somehow already aware of the answer before she gave it.

"One moment, Commander. Searching. Extending search parameters. Most intriguing. It appears that the relevant footage has been corrupted or misplaced entirely. An average of 10 minutes of footage that coincides with each anomaly has been deleted from my systems. Odd. I had no awareness of such events. It seems that the footage across the whole ship for that time period was mishandled."

He knew it wasn't mishandled. He also knew he was dealing with an expert. Not a master, as a master would have looped the footage rather than outright deleting it, it would cause less suspicion. But still someone who knew how to outsmart what was quite possibly the most advanced artificial intelligence anywhere in the galaxy, if only in a technical sense, rather than a tactical one.

Breaking his thought processes, Joker's voice echoed over to his personal comms. "Uh... Commander? I think we've got a bit of a problem..."

He snapped upwards, mind already jumping to conclusions. "What is it Joker? What's going on?"

"Well, you remember how you talked to that one Alliance Colonel, the one who said that the entire crew would need to be detained?"

Uh-oh. "Yes, I do, what about it?"

"Let's just say he made good on his promise. I'm being hailed by an Alliance ship -a cruiser called The Morning After, they're saying that the ground team is being held captive aboard."

Captive? That certainly didn't sound like the phrasing that Colonel Silvers had used earlier. And a cruiser called the Morning After? That wasn't standard Alliance naming procedure... What was going on here?

Before he could ask anything, Joker continued, more frantically than before. "Commander! We're being hailed! The Morning After is saying that we need to power down all engines and defenses and prepare to receive boarders!"

Shit. "Are they giving a reason why?" Boarding actions were a little extreme given the circumstances - it seemed that either the Colonel was a good liar when he was talking about handling the situation, or he was no longer in charge.

"They said for affiliation with terrorists - no surprise there, use of an A.I., contraband weapons and equipment, and interference in a combat zone." Slightly quieter, Joker mumbled under his breath "Who the hell told 'em about EDI...?" Then continuing, "But I've been able to authenticate the hail's encryption - its legit. They're Alliance alright." Joker sounded worried. From what Shepard knew, things had most definitely hit the fan.

His brain rushed through the possibilities. He could surrender, possibly be reunited with his crew and have the chance to explain the situation to the Systems Alliance leaders and maybe be able to somehow acquire their assistance in combating the Collectors. Or he could run, leave his crew behind, figure out what the hell was going on, root out the traitor and form a plan to properly jailbreak his team. Things were looking bleak. His mind raced, trying to put every situation before his mind. He very obviously couldn't do both. Could he? Wait a second...

"Joker, I need you to patch me into the comm return transmission."

"Roger Commander, just did. Planning on dropping the pants now, or later?" Ignoring the pilot, Shepard spoke with as much authority and calm as he could muster.

"This is Commander James Shepard of the Normandy SV-2. That's a negative on the boarders. We are carrying hazardous materials that must first be deposited at a secure location. Afterwards we will proceed to follow instructions regarding boarding actions," he lied. To be fair, it was the best he could come up with at the time.

"Negative Commander, our orders require you to surrender your vessel immediately. Failure to comply will be seen as efforts to resist lawful arrest and the continuance of support to a terrorist organization, and will result in an escalation of hostilities."

Shepard didn't respond immediately. "Commander..." Joker repeated hesitantly. "What are we going to do?"

"Just give me a second. We need to stall them somehow." But how? They needed the Alliance in order to fight the Reapers, and maybe even the Collectors.

Then, over the hail's channel, "This is Commander Shepard - I was promised fair treatment for each of my crew members by an officer in your Alliance military. I can replay the audio if you'd like. Until proper confirmation can be given, I will have to decline the request."

Hopefully that would stall them just enough for him to sort out the situation regarding their leak. That was a priority one. No matter what happened with the Alliance, Shepard was willing to go to almost any length in order to end the Collector and Reaper threat. So far, this leak was proving to be the biggest obstacle to their efforts. Once on Noveria, they almost lost the crew- and now they would lose them in a whole different way. There was a reason he had gone to such a great length to gather this specific detail of soldiers and talented individuals together. Now, their whole plan was at risk. It seemed there was no other way for them to be in this current situation. He knew that none of the ground crew would've blabbed about EDI - it had to have been the spy. The others would've done everything they could to conceal her presence, especially to their hopeful allies in the Alliance.

"Request denied, Shepard. The System's Alliance does not negotiate with terrorists." James sighed. He saw that coming. He needed to think of something... something that would delay them just enough... A thought came to his head.

"Orders acknowledged. Directing crew to comply." And then, over the same channel, just patching in Joker in an attempt to further sell the idea, "Joker, power down the engines and do as directed we're-" and cut the transmission.

"Joker," he continued over a different channel, "I need you to depressurize the airlock and the hangar bay on my signal, put us into an 'uncontrolled spin' going the opposite direction from the Alliance ships. Just make it controllable, I don't want to crash for real - and make sure we're going fast enough away to get us a few minutes to figure things out. Once that's done, send an emergency message back to The Morning After for assistance. Delay them as long as you can."

"Roger Commander, waiting on you." Good. Now he just had to make it believable. Someone he trusted needed to do the next step... but who? He looked over at the other occupants of the cargo bay. Jacob had woken briefly a few hours prior, but was forbidden by the Doctor to leave the medical bay, and so had forced himself to fall back asleep and rest.

"Jacob!" He didn't stir. "Jacob - I need you to wake up!" The Cerberus soldier's eyes darted awake, and he sat up quickly -well, as quickly as he could considering his grogginess, after which he held his head and let out a soft moan.

"I'm here Commander. Whaddaya need?" He croaked out.

"Sorry for that, but I need you to head down to the hangar bay, program a shuttle for autopilot, and trigger it to self destruct right after it leaves the ship - can you do that?"

Jacob just stared at him. Of course, he was not privy to the earlier conversation that the group had had. Although quite confused at the sudden strange orders, he didn't question it, and it seemed that he was slowly understanding the urgency of such a request by the look on the Commander's face, and the tone used, as he just nodded and slowly rose. When he landed on his feet, he left as fast as he could.

That part was done. A controlled detonation of a nearby object would hopefully be seen as some sort of systems failure with the ships attempts to power down, and would be a logical reason for them to be sent into a 'uncontrolled' spin. The ships gravity would keep the centrifugal force of the spin from causing any accident with the ships crew, and would delay the Alliance navy from being able to approach and board his ship. They just needed a sliver of time.

As soon as Jacob left the med bay, Shepard got to work. "EDI, how long until you've narrowed down the location for those 3 transmissions?"

"Approximately 90 seconds, Commander." Okay, they could work with that. Shepard checked his sidearm. This would need to be done quickly, it would become infinitely harder to deal with a leak under Alliance supervision. And it needed to be dealt with permanently. It was one life versus the galaxy.

"Okay, let me know as soon as you do, send it to my personal omnitool, and then look at all console activity from the time of those calls - find any instance when there was a lack of official logged activity on work terminals, and match it with the crew member. For crew not using terminals, find any abnormal activity in performance logs during that time period - unused equipment, lack of diagnostic data, anything that would indicate someone wasn't doing their job for 10 minutes at the time of the transmissions."

She didn't respond, but Shepard knew she didn't respond. There would probably be a lot of such instances - but hopefully only one that would match each of the three occurrences. They were in the middle of standard duty hours after all, and Cerberus didn't hand out smoking breaks.

He slowly made his way up to the CIC via the elevator, and as soon as the doors closed he requested an update from EDI. It had to have been time now.

"Alright EDI, I need those locations."

"Still working Commander - one moment. Finished. The first instance and location coincides with the tech lab near the CIC." Okay, that could reasonably be anyone. Mordin usually occupied the tech lab, in fact, he was probably there now, working on the new reports of the Collector subspecies reported from the ground team, secluded from the other crew. Truthfully, the Salarian scientist had been probably the only one thrilled by that discovery. When the call came in, Shepard was just able to catch the hint of something about extraordinarily low pH before disappearing for the foreseeable future. The scientist though was someone Shepard could trust. He had no doubts about the crew that he himself recruited, as any such doubts would've undermined everything they had worked on building -trust and teamwork. The rest of the crew aboard the Normandy; however, were not hand-picked, at least not by Shepard.

But he would keep all his options open.

"The next location, recorded after the departure for Noveria, came from the cargo bay."

Shepard froze. The tech lab... the cargo bay... The timing of the event... He cursed himself for his incredible willingness to trust.

"Shit."

OOOO

John-117 recognized a warship when he saw one. While this... cruiser... was definitely not quite the same as the last UNSC cruiser he had served on - the Pillar of Autumn, it had the makings of a machine fit for battle. Dozens, if not hundreds of battle-ready marines marched through the corridors of the ship, with a strict adherence to discipline that the Master Chief found oddly comforting.

Interestlingly, he had been escorted to a different location aboard the SSV The Morning After rather than making the trip with the rest of the crew. It was intriguing to note that he was easily distinguishable from the others, or perhaps his request to be relayed to Alliance-held space had gone through, as he was escorted rather peacefully, but carefully through the maze of corridors that appeared much more colorful than the bleak gray bulkheads of UNSC warships. So much so it almost seemed civilian, but the presence of marine and navy personnel dispelled that feeling.

He had clearly heard the Military Police's accusation towards the other crew members. It was not a matter that he felt he could interfere with; however, as while he had some affinity for the ragtag group that had picked him up, the Systems Alliance - this humanities equivalent of the UNSC, was the overarching authority here. He had not been around long enough in this galaxy to determine who was truly a terrorist and who was not. Certainly, nothing he had seen from the crew so far had appeared overly fanatical or in any way in endangerment of the civilian population at large - if anything they had only been of service to the Alliance, but he had seen many an Insurrectionist pick up arms to fight the Covenant alongside UNSC forces when the need arose. Desperation could cause anyone to do anything. He was in no place to judge.

As such, he followed his escorts carefully through the corridors of the ship until he reached a locked door with two more posted guards. Each of the guards was outfitted similar to the Force Recon marines he had fought with on the ground, with slightly bulkier armor, heavier rifles, and the letters MP over their faceplates and across their chests. There were no names stenciled on their uniforms, which the Chief thought was interesting. In the UNSC, the only personnel exempt from wearing their nameplates were officers employed in the Office of Naval Intelligence and Special Forces, such as the Spartans and members of the 4 Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Divisions, in particular the 105th and 65th. All other ODST's that passed selection that weren't assigned to the official division were required to wear the nameplate. But even then, his dress uniform carried his designation, 117. Could that mean that these men were the 'Intelligence Officers' of this 'Systems Alliance'? It made sense, but like with most things, he would need more time to observe before jumping to conclusions. It was a different Galaxy after all, perhaps they just did things differently.

The guards near the door quickly checked the escorts ID's from the strange devices on their forearms that were called 'omnitools', apparently a personal computation device of some sort with a wide array of functions. It's tactical possibilities intrigued him. Mjolnir was a marvel of modern science, but he would take every edge he could get- he resolved to ask these Alliance Officers for one at the soonest available possibility - he had noticed them on the arms of each of the crew aboard this ship, the Normandy, and even the marines on the colony, so it obviously wasn't an expensive or rare commodity, and acquiring such a device would surely assist him in getting further acquainted with his new environment. After all, intel was the greatest weapon.

The door in front of him slid open sideways after a hologram in the center twisted as if to provide visual confirmation of the 'clear to proceed'. The escorts gestured for him to enter the room, which he did so, and they followed closely after them.

After stepping into the room, he noticed a few things about the walls and desk that were present that put him ill at ease. There were no paintings in this room, no insignia's, flags, or decoration. It was rather... spartan. Of course, this would not be abnormal, as his own quarters - if he was given any on the ship he served on - would have similar decorations: none. That was the problem. Because besides Spartans, it was usually only the intelligence officers who had personnel quarters devoid of any personal material. This was obviously not a debriefing room, it seemed more like the office of an officer.

"We'll wait here." The MP to the side of him ordered hardly, after which they stayed perfectly still. That was fine with him. He took the next few moments to take inventory - he had been disarmed - not forcefully, upon entering the ship, but that was not much of a problem. All he carried was standard UNSC weaponry, and there weren't much secrets behind those. Even the Galilean Nonlinear Rifle, while classified, was not worth fighting over in order to keep at his back. He needed these people, and he was sure that the UNSC would be fine with him doing anything necessary to acquire help and guarantee his return, short of leaking top secret intelligence - and while normally one strict to adhere to protocol, he understood the need for flexibility in this specific instance. He was also confident that the engineers would not be able to reverse engineer the M6 - it had taken the UNSC decades to come up with the design, and it only saw service during the last year or two of the Human-Covenant War.

He ran a quick diagnostic on his armor. He had been fortunate to not have experienced a single moment when his shields were breached, mostly because he moved a bit too quickly for his enemies to get a bead on him. These... Collectors were slower and physically weaker than Elites. It was a welcome relief. If they were all he would have to worry about - he wasn't worried. Most of the diagnostics came back green. Or yellow. A few systems were still damaged, such as the hydrostatic gel at the very base layer of his armor, it was having a much harder time acclimating to temperatures and regulating his body heat. It was also struggling to pressurize appropriately when he triggered the option to do so. Of course, seeing as it had been about 5 years since his last maintenance check, and he had put the system through a bit of a wringer, he supposed that made sense.

His chest plate was slightly cracked from his brief fight with 343 Guilty Spark, the monitor who attempted to stop him from firing the Halo array prematurely and damaging the ark. The damage to his chest piece was only aggravated as he fell from the wreckage of the Forward Unto Dawn to the surface of Requiem. The amplifying circuits on the outer edge of the gel layer were also slightly 'sticky' -no doubt from severe overuse. It didn't hamper his movements to any serious degree, but until he could get that fixed, he wouldn't be fighting 100%. In fact, he hadn't done so ever since he fell from orbit the first time from the Prophet of Truth's dreadnought during the Second Battle for Earth. That fall had blown a seal or two in his armor systems, and he was barely able to slap a fix together aboard the Forward Unto Dawn during the Slipspace transition to the ark. His armor wasn't falling apart, but it had seen better days.

His communications systems and HUD were functioning fine, as was his recycling processors and automatic bio foam injectors. Most other systems were functioning normally as well, but the sooner he could get to a repair bay, the sooner he could take a look at solving his other issues. All Spartan's had been trained in rudimentary field repairs of the Mjolnir system, and after 30 years of wearing the things in the field, it could take each of the super-soldiers approximately 10 minutes to fully desuit. Due to a few damaged parts on John's Mjolnir, he would need a few extra tools to get access to one of the emergency releases on his primary torso piece.

Moving onto the situation at hand, he attempted a self-debrief, something he had gotten into the habit of during the last half of the human-Covenant war to assist him in compartmentalization. His current mission - standing orders to assist with the defense of humanity from any foe, both foreign and domestic. His last official order came from Fleet Admiral Lord Terrance Hood aboard the Sangheili Carrier Shadow of Intent. He had accomplished that mission. He had defeated Truth and the Covenant, the Gravemind and the Flood, and then the Didact and the Prometheans. Humanity was safe. Wasn't it?

John didn't know what to do with peace. He had never lived it. The last 30 years of his life were full of frantically being transported from place to place, in a desperate attempt to slow the death of the human race. The deployment of the Spartans gave humanity an extra decade or so with which to work with. They really had been humanities sword and shield. He felt a sense of accomplishment when he pondered on that. His Spartans had done it. Dead or alive, they had finished the fight. For all he knew, he was the last. Which meant that as long as they had a Spartan, humanity still had a sword to swing. A twinge of sadness accompanied that feeling as he also considered his lost comrades. His Spartan's, so many of which had fallen with their home, Reach, were gone. Blue team was presumed dead or missing- he hadn't heard anything from them since the first battle for Earth.

And Cortana...

He filed away his feelings. Time for another duty, another mission.

As if on que, the doors behind him opened, and a pair of footsteps drew his attention. He waited, stiff at ease, until the man crested his peripherals. He was a tall man with a dark uniform, unlike the ones he had seen the other Alliance navy officers adorned in. His skin was dark, and he was bald with a pair of glasses rimming his deep brown eyes. The insignia on his epaulette was one the Chief was unfamiliar with, but its complexity signified that this was a high ranking officer.

In the UNSC, it was customary to treat officers in other branches of the military with the same decorum as their own, and while it wasn't quite the same thing - he figured it couldn't hurt and so he snapped to attention.

"Officer on Deck!" He barked.

A small smile greeted his actions on behalf of the officer before him. "At ease, soldier."

"Sailor, sir."

The officer chuckled. "Good then, sailor. I'm didn't expect to greet a fellow navy man, but I welcome the opportunity all the same. My name is Captain Andrews, I will be speaking on behalf of the Alliance High Command. I have a few questions for you, the first- could you please state your name and rank?"

"Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy, Spartan 117, UNSC, sir." He replied firmly. Technically the rank had been awarded postmortem, but seeing as how he still wasn't officially alive, he felt it wise to exert a little extra authority.

The officer, Captain Andrews, paused for a moment. "That's quite the mouthful. Now I don't know what that means in Alliance terms, but here, the same designation would apply to the highest-ranked enlisted man in the service - am I correct in assuming such?"

The Master Chief thought for a brief moment. Technically, it was true, he just hadn't ever considered it. In his career, experience overruled rank. Which meant that in most circumstances, 117 was in charge. "Yessir, that is correct."

Captain Andrews nodded. "We're quite fortunate to have stumbled upon you, then, of all people. Now, as I was informed, you seek assistance in returning to UNSC controlled space?"

"Yessir," he repeated. That was what he was after.

This only caused the Captain to sigh. "Well, son, I think you can see the problem in this." He paused so the Master Chief could agree. He didn't. "I'll be blunt, then. From what our sources have gathered, the signified space that you listed as under UNSC control is absolutely unreachable by any means the Systems Alliance has at their disposal."

John felt his heart skip a beat. There had to be a way back. There just had to be. He didn't miss the Captain's slip. 'Our sources?' He thought that the alliance only had one asset on board the Normandy... Lieutenant Vega. Apparently not. Only a few select people had been present when the Master Chief discussed the UNSC's location. Commander Shepard, Miranda, Tali, and Samara, plus a few of the bridge crew. He didn't take any of the combat crew for moles... which may have made them the best ones there could be. Excluding those individuals, there were approximately three remaining individuals present during his search for allied space, in addition to the artificial intelligence, EDI. They included-

He realized the Captain was still speaking. "Because of this... unusual circumstance, we've decided to take you to a more secure location to discuss some options with you. We will be leaving this system shortly, after which we will depart the vessel in order to reach said location."

The Master Chief's finger ticked imperceptibly in thought. "Are you not the Commanding Officer of this vessel, sir?"

That caused a strange look to come over the Captain's face, if only for a moment. It quickly disappeared. "No, I am not - don't let the rank confuse you. I am a part of the intelligence division of the System's Alliance." That settled it, spook it was. "Captain Truger is in charge of the Morning After. I lead the intelligence teams aboard her. We were previously surveying a recently settled colony world when we received the distress call, and I, my orders to assist you. We were ordered to abandon that mission in light of the recent invasion."

He noticed how this only brought up more questions, but the Captain simply continued.

"Before that, I have a few questions the board would like to ask you. The first, what was your role in the Cerberus operation on Noveria?"

OOOOOO

The Turian was no longer pleased with current circumstances. Things had seemingly taken a turn for the worse - if not the worst. Being confined to the brig of any navy ship was not the best goal to have. Especially for a Turian. Not to mention the incesssant head-banging of the nearby krogan on every accessible bulkhead was driving him nuts.

"Can you please stop that? I think my ears might melt if you keep doing it."

The krogan just responded with "RRghar", and continued to bang. The Turian gave an exasperated sigh and was about to start banging some heads himself when the krogan finally deemed him worthy of understandable lexicon. "Second Fucking Time! In a Crate. With Damn Squishees!!!!"

The other crew members looked downtrodden as well, specifically Vega. His shoulders hung, as did his head. The sullen look on his face was a clear window into the current feelings of the marine. Sure, the rest of them had been betrayed, but he had been betrayed. It was undoubtedly difficult, being accused of treason by your own military, after doing so on orders from the same. Garrus could only imagine how he would've felt had the Hierarchy accused him of such.

"The fuck are we supposed to do now, huh?" Jack questioned explosively. "The lizard's right - why the hell did we let ourselves get stuck in a fucking box again?"

Probably just looking for someone to disagree with, either that, or the two biotic's feud just never seemed to hit a lull, Miranda spoke up. "We've been through this! We need the Alliance to fight the Collectors. Busting out will only make things worse!"

"Keelah... she's right. There's nothing we can do. We just have to wait." Tali seemed as dejected as the rest of them. Garrus took one look around the 'brig' -the medium-sized room in which they had been put. A question popped into his head.

"Kasumi, you still have that box you found?"

"What?" She looked up, head obviously elsewhere.

"The box - do you have it or no?"

"Oh! No I ditched that when no one was looking, right before they frisked us. It's behind one of the seats in the shuttle we rode in on. Guarantee no one is finding that baby."

"You remember which shuttle right? Because they all look the same..." Vega spoke up, probably trying to distract himself. Good, they needed him on top of his game. He was their one ace in the hole- the Alliance Marine. Surely he could explain things to his superiors.

The thief scoffed lightly, a habit of hers when she seemed to believe someone thought she was underperforming. "Of course I remember. I can tell you the ID Number and everything. It's not my first rodeo, cowboy."

"Do you know what was on it?" Garrus questioned.

This caused a frown to come across the thief's face. "No... only that the Collectors seemed really anxious about it. Come to think of it... some of the marines did as well... at least the MP's that picked us up did."

"Wait, what do you mean, the MP's were anxious about it?"

"Well..." she tapped a finger to her temple, drawing out the L's in the word. "They were looking for something pretty hard, though they tried not to seem like it. After they searched us, they kept picking up stuff and looking around other stuff, searching through crates, pointing to each other, like they lost something. I don't know what else it could've been for 'cept the box."

"What do you think was on it?" Tali asked Garrus, referencing the box. He just shrugged.

"I don't know. It's not really any use just speculating, anyways, it won't do us any good. For all we know, it could be nothing."

That seemed to kill the conversation right there. He watched as each of the crew in turn seemed to each come to terms with their situation, and sad looks crossed more than a few faces. He thought hard. 'What would Shepard do?'

A movement by the young alliance marine drew his attention, checking his omnitool for mission details. Good, he was staying active. He had watched the Lieutenant throughout the operation, and he seemed to have a natural affinity for leadership. Even now, he was trying to stay busy, distracting himself from the terrible accusations.

"Hey." It caused Vega to look at him, if but slowly. "You're not a traitor. None of us are. We're doing the right thing- we still are. We're the only ones fighting the Collectors!" A few more heads turned in his direction. "The only ones fighting the Reapers. Why?" He asked, rhetorically, and paused for effect. "Because Shepard told us to? Because he asked nicely? Sure, that might've got a few us aboard, but why are we still here, doing what we're doing? Because it's all up to us now. We still have a job to do." The others were listening now. "We beat the Collectors here on Huriko. We can do it again. This was just the warm-up round. We've been through too much, done too much, to just give up now. So let's not give up!" It seemed to encourage them, if but slightly, but that would dissipate with a few more hours in the cage. Maybe getting them a little riled up, a little more involved would lead to some breakthroughs.

"Alright, lets start with what we know. First, in order to get out of here, we have to understand why we got here in the first place, right?" The others nodded in agreement. He took a deep breath. "Someone sold us out to the Alliance. The sooner we can figure out who, the sooner we can sort this whole mess." Everyone was listening. He looked around, briefly assessing before he spoke next. "My money is on the new guy. It doesn't seem like any of this was happening before he showed up." It was a bold claim, one sure to stimulate conversation, and while he believed it, he honestly just hoped to get the crew thinking.

"I agree." Miranda said. No shocker there, it was not a secret that there was some sort of invisible grudge match between the biotic and the super-soldier. "The timing of his arrival is too perfect, too... timed - to be a coincidence. It can't be accidental."

Kasumi nodded her head as well, but Tali interrupted. "I don't know, why would he help us like that twice just to get us locked up here? It doesn't make any sense to me."

The thief looked at her, eager to put something in. "Maybe that's why he did it- so we'd be less suspicious!"

Vega simply shook his head in obvious disagreement. "No... he's too much of a soldier for that. From what I've seen, pure soldiers don't make the best spies."

But this seemed to only further incite the small Asian woman, "don't you see? It's one of the oldest tricks in the book! He's hiding in plain sight!"

"But why go through all that trouble to make such an fuckin' unbelievable story? Wouldn't it have made more sense to just meet up on Omega or the Citadel or something?" Zaeed had been so quiet Garrus had almost forgotten he was there.

"That's the thing!" Kasumi was on a roll now. "It's so unbelievable that it's actually believable! After all, we did believe it, did we not?"

It was Samara's turn and, like always, the others seemed to quiet upon the sound of her voice. "I do not believe the Spartan capable of such treachery, I think that Tali is correct, the Master Chief is no more a traitor than the rest of us."

"Didn't we already have this damn conversation already?" Grunt mumbled.

"Well, yeah, but-" he was cut off by Miranda, who seemed insulted they had even discussed such a topic without her.

"You had suspicions of a traitor all along and you didn't tell anyone about it?!"

"Well we didn't think-" he tried to explain himself

"That it was that important." she finished for him. "And look at us now." Garrus caught Grunt's look, and they shrugged together.

"How can he be a traitor, if he was arrested with us?" Tali continued to question.

The Turian just sighed in response. "Tali, he wasn't arrested. He left on a separate shuttle with different guards. Didn't you see how he was all friendly with the marines when they came to pick us all up?"

Vega answered his question, but just not in the way he expected. "They were the same MP's that picked us up. Actually they all got off of the same shuttle."

Tali joined him, "they did say the entire crew of the Normandy was under arrest..."

Well, this is what he asked for. He did want them to be more conversational, and this is the topic he had chosen to bring up. He just had hoped that the others would agree with him and that part of the crew wouldn't so vehemently disagree with his accusations. So what if the Spartan was a traitor? What was that to them? Surprising everyone once more by speaking, Samara quietly broke her meditation with, "I believe we are asking each other the wrong question. Discussing a traitor in our midst is sure to incite only anger and mistrust between us. We must rather focus on the information itself that was shared. Doing so will assist us in answering our other questions, and resolving the situation."

Her statement caused them all pause for a moment. It was logical, he supposed. But Miranda was the first that jumped on it, in what seemed like a random direction. "After Noveria, the Commander said he was interrogated by someone... They specifically wanted him - targeted him. They were after something."

"So someone with a grudge against Shepard, then," Zaeed commented.

This caused a sigh from Jack, of all people. "I thought we were fucking over that, old man." She wasn't wrong. She sure wasn't quite as eloquent as Samara, but she got the point across.

"No, they wanted something, something that they thought he had... it was... the... the... ah what was it?!" She asked exasperatedly.

Garrus tried desperately to recall the debriefing they had after Shepard recovered enough to do so. It was on the tip of his flanges... Kasumi beat him to it. "James' Key!" She said loudly. He snapped, a very human expression he had lovingly picked up, made difficult with his three fingered hands. Of course!

Everyone looked to Vega. He looked back, and just shrugged. "Hey don't look at me - only key I got is the one to mama's place back on earth. There's two of us, remember?"

"So the Commander has a key to something... to what though?" Tali asked, not quite seeing why it was all that relevant. After all, the Alliance hadn't asked about it, had they?

"The Janus Key!" Miranda exclaimed. Yeah, that sounded a little bit better, now that he thought about it.

"But so what?" Tali said. "It was the Blue Suns that wanted the key, not the Alliance. We need to find out what the Alliance wants, not some mercenary thugs - no offense, Zaeed."

The man just shrugged. "None taken."

"She's got a point. But there was no way that they could've just coincidentally captured the same man they were looking for if they didn't have some way to ensure he would be the one performing the bust. Someone had to have fed us false intel. The leak must be communicating with the Blue Suns and someone in the Alliance. But I agree. The alliance is what is important now. They knew we had EDI. They had no way of knowing about her unless someone told them, because I don't think any of us would have told them about her, it would only further incriminate us." Garrus attempted to use all his prior experience as a cop to his advantage.

"What else did they say?" Tali asked, clearly unhappy that a discussion about loyalty to an A.I. was being used to prove her point.

"They said...possession of an A.I.," Garrus started, trying to recall, "affiliation with terrorists - no surprise there," he moved on, trying to avoid the narrowed gaze he felt from the Cerberus operative. "Interfering in a combat zone - to be fair, we were there first-they were doing the interfering, and possession of contraband weapons and equipment - so EDI, again."

They all though about it for a moment. It didn't seem to offer any clues to their current predicament. "Wait... what was that last part?" Tali asked after a few moments of contemplative thought.

"Uh... something about terrorists?" Zaeed offered.

She just shook her head, "no, after that."

"Being in a combat zone..." Garrus continued, trying to understand where the Quarian was going, but not quite seeing it.

"Keep going," she urged, making a little circular motion with her fingers.

"Contraband weapons and equipment?"

"That's the one!"

He just shook his head. "No, we just talked about that - that's because of EDI and A.I.'s being outlawed." It was a good try though, she had some of the crew hoping for something more.

But Tali just shook her head. "They said weapons - EDI is equipment, not a weapon."

"So what," Grunt started, "part of the same phrase isn't it?"

But Tali was the one on the roll this time. "Did anybody carry anything unusual into this last mission, anything you usually don't have with you?" It took each a few seconds to recall. They all shook their heads. As far as Garrus could recall, most of the team carried pretty much the same thing into battle every time, with little variation. They were very specialized that way.

"It was a good try Tali, but-" He started.

"I'm not done!" He didn't get to finish. "They listed an artificial intelligence separately, apart from the contraband."

"Wow, thanks Tali. We are saved, thanks to your fucking genius," Jack said. "Now we just have one more felony to add to the list."

"No, you guys don't get it!" Tali seemed close to exasperation, but her excitedness was uncontainable. "Okay, when Quarians go on their Pilgrimage, we have to study Citadel laws to make sure we don't get into trouble for doing something illegal we had no idea about," Garrus pointedly ignored the several looks directed his way by the multiple human occupants of the room, "and one of them is the Treaty of Farixen. It doesn't just limit the number of Dreadnoughts each race can build, it limits military buildup altogether. For example, no civilians or non-military persons are authorized to be in possession of either shipbourne or heavy anti-armor weaponry - which makes sense right?" Garrus supposed so. It probably wasn't the best idea to have store clerks carrying around bazookas.

"Looks like we got that one covered Tali. Anybody bring a MAC with them? Thought so, anyways, moving on," Miranda was not enthralled by the turn of conversation. Garrus despite himself was inclined to agree with her. 'Just get to the point, Tali'.

"Hehe," Grunt chuckled. "Sorry guys, that's my bad. Didn't know it was illegal to have such a massi-"

Tali hurriedly moved to cut him off, while a few snickers from the decidedly male crew members rewarded Grunt for his comment. "My point is, none of us had anything that would warrant them saying that. But you know who did?"

Jack was the first one to catch on, surprisingly enough. "The Master Chief had that laser thing, didn't he?" 'Wow', Garrus thought, 'and not a single cuss'. That was one for the archives.

"Exactly!" The Ex-cop could almost hear the Quarian smile through her faceplate. "Why would they throw in that accusation to arrest us if he was the only one it applied to! He couldn't have been the traitor, because they arrested him too!" He supposed it made sense, not that he liked it.

Miranda wasn't having it; however. "Tali, that doesn't really prove anything. That could just be how you're interpreting it. You can find anything to defend your position. For example, if he was arrested with the rest of us, why isn't he here with us right now?"

"Miranda is right," Garrus said. "When I was a cop, we used the phrase, 'beyond reasonable doubt'. It means that we have to prove pretty comfortably without much room for other possibilites that someone is either guilty or innocent. And until we can find the evidence for that 'unreasonable doubt', he's the only one that fits the description." Okay maybe that's not quite how it was used, but same difference, right?

"Tali is correct," Samara said once more. "The Master Chief has no motive to betray us to the Alliance or the Blue Suns. He is no liar, I sensed that much."

"You just like the bastard cuz' he's quieter than you!" Jack exclaimed. This caused a slight twinge of annoyance to cross the Justicar's features. Hmm, that one must've struck some sort of nerve.

Before she could continue, Kasumi mumbled, "we wouldn't be in this hellhole if it wasn't for him."

Vega just frowned. Garrus could see it now. Tali and the Marine, having worked with the Chief on Noveria, were slow to accuse him and quick on the defense.

"We wouldn't be in this hellhole either if someone would've done their job," Vega said, perhaps a tad unwisely, while looking at Miranda. It was no secret among them that there were a few members of the crew who blamed her orders for the injuries of the crew. Technically, it had some weight, as surely Commander Shepard would've had another spin on the situation even before they were arrested. Add that to the already blaze-filled tension between Vega and Cerberus - uh-oh. However, when he saw the woman's fists and teeth clench, her muscles tense, he realized it was more than a tad unwise for the Lieutenant to bring that up.

She stood quickly. "What was that, traitor?" She clearly put a lot of venom into that last word.

"Terrorist." He shot back as he simultaneously shot to his feet, which accompanied the crackle of biotics from Miranda - and Jack's position. It seemed she too was riled up.

"Fuckin' cheerleader." 'Whose damn side was she on?'

The rest of the crew got to their feet, Vega, Tali, Samara and Grunt to one side, with Miranda, Garrus, Kasumi and Zaeed on the other. It quickly devolved into a shouting match, the confines of the prison fraying their patience, except perhaps Samara, who was 'respectfully disagreeing' with the person before her - Zaeed, in this case.

It was only a matter of time before fists started to fly.

OOOOO

Of course. Why hadn't he seen it?? It made perfect sense, in fact, it was too easy - right in front of his face the whole time. He had been too trusting, too quickly. The Master Fucking Chief. Who else could it be?

Shepard cursed his mistake as the elevators slowly made their way upward. He looked at the sidearm in his hand. It was useless now, what with the man being on the ground and all. How would they deal with the leak now?

Before he could make any more orders, EDI spoke again, interrupting his thoughts. "However; because the timing of the transmission occurs approximately 15 minutes after the shuttle carrying Vega, Tali, and Spartan-117 departed for the surface of Noveria, I can safely rule out their involvement."

Wait, what? His thoughts ground to a halt. After they left? That just confused him more. "So the Master Chief is clean?" He asked, as if in confirmation.

"Correct, Commander. While his armor does have peculiar technological capabilities, it seems incapable of translocation. I do not believe it to allow him to be in two places at once." So the Master Chief wasn't a traitor... Shepard wasn't sure if that was good, or bad.

"Pull up the third location."

"Of course. The third and final transmission coincides approximately an hour after your safe return to the Normandy from Noveria, and from the sensors, I have been able to confirm that this last call originated from the woman's restroom on the second floor."

That ruled out half the crew, of course, he did know a few people... He hit the button one more time to keep the doors closed- the elevator had long since reached the CIC, he just needed a little extra privacy while discussing this with EDI.

"What about the diagnostics and console logs that I asked about? Can you match those up at all with any member of the crew?"

"Yes. There appears to be a lack of incoming logged data affecting the tertiary navigation system, which is in charge of mapping all foreign planetoids and celestial objects for safe system navigation. Logs require manual confirmation every 7 minutes. I see a coinciding lack of data during three periods for approximately... 15... minutes..." Shepard was immediately alarmed. It wasn't like EDI to trail off like that.

"EDI, what's going on?"

Instead of the artificial intelligence responding, it was a frantic sounding Joker. "Commander! On the bridge, there's some-" it abruptly cut off. He cursed loudly, and hit the button to exit the elevator.

While his body did in fact heal faster than most humans, by a long shot actually, he had still been impaled through the upper leg earlier that day. While his mind had forgotten that fact, his body certainly did not. His leg screamed at him as he limped as quickly as he could - which was pretty damn slow, past the CIC and towards the bridge. There were sounds of scuffles of something on the floor, probably feet, a few shouts, and most alarmingly, a few screams of surprise and a few of terror.

When he reached the bridge, his jaw dropped.

He saw Joker, standing behind his chair and looking at him, signs of fear in his eyes. The other crew members were giving him a wide berth, backing off slowly and trying not to jostle each other too much. He could see the shaking in the pilots body, and no doubt the fragile bones were likely bruised and possibly broken from mistreatment. The worried look on his face was not one the Commander was accustomed to. But it wasn't the pilot that had so surprised the Commander and everyone else on the deck.

It was the arm around his neck, and the body and face to which arm was attached. WHAT?! No! No... No, It couldn't have been her. Of all people? How did that make any sense?? Why her?!

Because the face to which the body was attached to, the one holding Joker hostage, belonged to Yeoman Kelly Chambers.

OOOO

"I just have one more question for you, Master Chief." The Captain was slightly annoyed, he could tell. Obviously not used to the short, clipped, and curt responses he had provided, it was testing the officer's desire to continue this briefing. Of course, this simply meant that he was unaccustomed to the Master Chief. John was never known for his exceeding eloquence.

So far, this debriefing/meeting, had seemed more like an interrogation. Of course, he had certainly had his fair share of similar debriefings where he was summarily 'grilled', as the marines like to say... at least, the UNSC Marines did. The odd thing was, each question seemed to bridge a completely different topic - such as his role on Noveria, his arrival onboard the Normandy, his weaponry, and even about his goals.

He prepared himself to give a respons.. "Where is the artifact known as the Janus Key?"

What? The... Janus Key? He tried to recall such an object. He felt as if it was familiar to him... it was odd. A tingling at the back of his head - a feeling that he should know. He racked his brain, searching for it. His nearly perfect memory, acquired through his perfect genetics, augmentation and mental conditioning, was coming up short. Was it a ship? A weapon? A formation? No- the captain had said it was an artifact. The way he said it seemed to imply that the Chief should, at the very least, know about it.

"I'm sorry sir, I don't quite understand."

"The Janus Key, son. I need to understand where it is." Why did the Captain assume he knew? He still couldn't shake that feeling - that he should know. It was almost like he had forgotten... but no, he hadn't forgotten. It was similar to the feeling that he had received on the first Halo ring, when faced with a set of Forerunner controls that managed the function of a light bridge. He had never approached or operated the system prior, but just... knew what button he needed to press. It was similar with other Forerunner artifacts. When asked by Cortana how he had known, he just responded with, "I just did." Or something along those lines. Was that what this artifact was? Forerunner in origin? What did that mean - and why did this man care about it? He just responded honestly, until he could better gauge the situation. If it was as he suspected, he would need to exercise extreme caution. There was a reason Forerunner artifacts were considered highly dangerous. And no one knew that better than the Chief. In fact, come to think of it, there probably wasn't another person alive with such intimate and thorough experience with objects Forerunner in nature as he had. He was as close an expert on the subject as humanity had.

"I don't know, sir." It looked like the Captain was about to respond with something, quite possibly a bit more impatiently than before, when he cocked his head curiously. The Chief guessed it was his earpiece, but he couldn't hear a word of what was said, even with his enhanced hearing and audio receptors. He supposed that meant that the vibrations were being transferred directly to the man's eardrum.

Captain Andrews sighed. "We'll get back to this. For now, there's an urgent matter I need to attend to. These men will escort you to the location designated earlier, after which we will continue this conversation at a later point. Dismissed." And then, without waiting for a salute or anything of the sorts, the Captain turned and walked swiftly out the door. That was odd. It was like there were two sides to the man. He was initially pleasant, more so than most UNSC officers, but as the conversation continued onward, he got more and more tetchy and irritable. 'Sorry, Cortana'. John hadn't meant to be that difficult.

As the Master Chief followed the guards down the corridors to the 'brig', he analyzed the soldiers beside him. They were surprisingly unintimidated by his massive stature and fluid movement. Their armor, like the other MP's, was also colored blue, with the letters MP inscribed both across the visor and the vest. The visor itself was polarized, so much so that he could not see though it, and he couldn't risk using his suit's enhanced visual sensors to get a better look, as that would require him to pivot his head and look directly into their visors with his own. If they weren't intimidated now, they sure would be if he chose to do so.

He was more than a foot and a half taller than the smaller one, but that was to be expected - most of the marines he had come across in either galaxy came no higher than his shoulders. He analyzed their gaits and compared them with the data he had recorded on the way in. They were taking slightly longer strides, their shoulders were slightly lifted as well, indicating either stress or anxiousness. If he had to guess, they had also been informed of the situation to which Captain Andrews was privy to.

He thought about it - what situation would cause the crew of a vessel such hesitation and distress? Lieutenant Harrison had confirmed for him earlier that the larger Collector vessel in orbit had been chased through the mass relay to an alternate location, and was now out of the picture. So that meant two things. There was a different threat in the system, or another had just arrived. He pondered what he knew about the system, and remembered suddenly about the Normandy. It's crew was still active! Shepard and the others, at least. But it seemed quite unlike the Commander to initiate hostilities with the official human military organization, but then again, what did he know? He did know that the Commander, as tactically and strategically capable as he was, would not seek to engage more than a dozen Alliance warships in a space battle. Only Spartans took those sort of chances. So that meant a different threat had just arrived.

Looking at the guards to either side of him, he realized that this was perhaps one of the first actual battles he would have to sit out for. You never sidelined a Spartan, even during a space battle. But he had little choice here, he needed these men to determine his next actions. So he resolved to stay put.

He easily memorized the route through which they were taking him to the 'brig' as he did when he initially entered the ship. He was confident in his ability to find his way out, if need be, but hoped that things would work to his advantage here. He had no desire to inflict harm upon humanity's military, and for now, he saw no reason he would have to.

As they crossed the corridors of the ship, the Chief received more of the typical looks that he was used to- awed open-mouthed stares, and more than a few times sailors and marines alike walked straight into bulkheads due to the fact that their faces were turned in his direction. He tried not to think of it too much. To them, he was just as alien as the Collectors. In fact, while they didn't quite know it yet, probably even more so. He was apparently from a different galaxy, after all. Being twice the width of a normal human being and having to duck every time they came through a bulkhead didn't help either, neither was the fact that he still had copious amounts of alien blood spattered on him from his hand-to-hand adventures with the Collectors.

An announcement over the ships overhead PA system caught his attention. "All medical and salvage crews, report to stations immediately, prepare to receive wounded." That announcement provided further insight into the situation at hand. The Master Chief certainly noticed the distinction in that only medical and salvage teams had been ordered to stations, rather than combat personnel. It wasn't a battle. It was something else. Before he could ponder too much about it, the marines gestured to a door before him, which promptly opened. In its place appeared a relatively bleak gray room, lined with gray benches which could be used as cots. This was the brig, he supposed. To others, the lack of furniture and items of comfort, even so much as a blanket, and the fact that the room was devoid of commodities including restrooms and showers would be considered barbaric. To the Chief, it was perfect. Just how he liked it.

OOOO

He was attempting to recover himself from his stupor when she spoke. The voice he had been so accustomed to over the last few weeks, usually filled with empathetic responses and soul-searching questions, was now hard and emotionless.

"Drop it, Commander," Yeoman Chambers ordered, her sidearm jabbed right into Joker's ribs. It took him a moment to realize she had even spoken. Kelly? He was incredulous. The psychologist?? She was the mole? That didn't make any sense... maybe that's why it made perfect sense...

Instead of listening, he spoke. "Why?" He just needed to understand. "Why are you doing this, Kelly?"

"Don't try and play nice with me Shepard. We both know how that ended for Saren. Drop. Your. Weapon." Her tone brokered no room for argument. He searched her eyes for a moment - looking for any sign of the Kelly he had known before. The bubbly, happy, carefree and caring woman that had helped many a crew member through difficult times. The more he thought, the more he couldn't believe it.

"So you sold us out to the Alliance, and the Blue Suns?" That just caused a self-satisfying sneer to come across her face. No, this wasn't Kelly. Kelly Chambers was gone, replaced by this cruel, barbarous woman. Had her whole personality been simply a facade? A ruse to gain their trust?

"I didn't do either. Not that it makes much difference to you, or that you'll be around long enough to find out. Now, since you're not going to drop your gun , let's do this instead. Because he doesn't want to listen to me, tell Joker to fire the emergency thrusters to stop our spin, and send an engineering team to seal up the breach in the hull." So his own ruse had worked, maybe too well. Even the mole was convinced of the malfunction. In fact, that's probably why she was forced to break cover - that or something else he couldn't foresee.

He needed to play along. Just a few moments more. He just had to understand. "Do it Joker."

The pilot simply nodded, at which point, the arm that was snaked around his neck holding him in place slinked back to the Yeoman's side, but her sidearm remained trained at the pilots ribs the whole time, and she made a point to stay behind him. They all felt the 'wawump' of the emergency reserve thrusters on the sides of the ship firing, at which point the flash of stars going by the cockpit slowed considerably. The Commander himself sent a team to 'repair' the hull, even though he knew no such breach existed. Jacob had done his job well.

The air was tense, the situation couldn't have been more taut if pulled by a frigate. "Kelly, you going to tell me what's going on?" He asked, his voice a little softer, trying to bring some semblance of the woman he knew to the surface. He didn't miss the wash of pain that seemed to come over her face at the mention of her name this time. Not emotional pain. Physical pain. She winced, and then returned to normal. Or... abnormal, come to think of it.

"No, I don't think I am. If you live long enough to ask our new friends that, maybe they can answer your question." She simply responded, just as coldly as before. He had to keep trying.

"But why? After everything, don't you think we deserve to know why?"

A pause. She cackled, very un-Kellylike. "Good point. After everything we've gone through. Quite a lot, hasn't it? Running around from one place to another, too occupied with handing out personal favors to actually do the thing we came here to do. How does that feel? That after so many weeks, you aren't any closer to stopping us then before?"

Wait a second... "Us, Kelly?"

"Them," she spat, but it was too late. He had understood. This wasn't the Kelly he knew because... it wasn't Kelly anymore. Somehow, someway, they had gotten to her. Not the Collectors. The Reapers. They were still out there. He knew it. But there was still a chance to save his friend. Both of them, actually.

"Kelly... just calm down. See?" He slowly set his sidearm on the ground, and raised his hands, palms forward. "All I ask is that you try and fight for me. For us. Can you do that?"

There it was, a brief flicker. Only for a second, but he had seen it. The hesitation, the horror in her eyes when she realized what her body was doing. She was in there. Just a little more.

"No!" The indoctrinated part of her fought back, trying to get back in control. She jabbed Joker a little harder with the barrel of the gun, and he grunted in pain. It was no doubt bruising his delicate ribs. "This is how it ends."

"How what ends, Kelly?" This was their final lead, the only thing they had on the Reapers. The egotistical side of the Reaper with which she was indoctrinated jabbed back.

"The cycles! This is the last one. Because this time, we won't stop. Don't you know? We already have him! He can't stop us this time! We've already won!"

"Who- Who do you have Kelly?" This didn't make sense. He could see the Alliance emergency evacuation shuttles drawing closer and closer. He didn't understand something else. Why would the Alliance benefit from her information - from her presence? And why would she benefit from being returned to them safely? Unless... shit. That meant - the Alliance - the Blue Suns... oh no.

The shuttles were too close - there wasn't enough time. He looked at the Yeoman. This last instance, his frequent use of her name, it had drawn something to the surface, something he hadn't seen since Saren. Her eyes pled with him. 'Please,' they seemed to say. 'Help me.' There just wasn't time.

Her movements were rather frantic - there was an internal turmoil now. He could almost see it written across her features - like a miniature battlefield, muscles shifting back and forth between different expressions. She was fighting back. She was losing, probably, but still fighting. He watched as the corner of her eye colored red as a blood vessel burst, and a vein in her forehead pulsed with the strain of resisting. He could still do it. She could still do it. The psychologist was doing something that not even the Council's greatest Spectre had been able to do. She was battling back the Reaper. Her limbs were jerky, eye movement rapid. And then, it all seemed to stop. She looked at the Commander, calm and peaceful as he had ever seen her, and answered his last question.

"The Reclaimer."

She dropped to the floor, limp as a ragdoll. Joker exhaled a deep breath of relief, while Shepard rushed to the fallen Yeoman's body. He searched frantically for a pulse. He found none. There was no movement in her limbs, and when he opened her eyelids, the pupils didn't dilate. She was gone. But she had, in the end, helped him.

The Reapers were still out there, and unlike with the Protheans 50,000 years ago, they weren't going to stop unless they steamrolled every other sentient being in the galaxy. He didn't doubt her for a second. One way or the other, this would be the final cycle.

One other thing was certain. The Reapers thought that this Reclaimer, that the Master Chief, could stop them. And he would make the Spartan do so if it was his dying wish.

UOUOUOU

Deep within the bowels of the SR-2 Normandy, a burst of electrons threatened to ionize the nearby field of pure element zero. It was stopped at the last second by a burst-gravitational field that was micro generated to catch said electrons before they caused a malfunction in the system. The vibration that the Element zero itself caused interrupted and manipulated the nearby quantum matter, resulting in a mirrored vibration halfway across Citadel Space. It was registered on a small terminal in the corner. The message, sent through the process known simply as 'quantum entanglement', was short. Incredibly so. In fact, it said only three words; Initial Phase: Success.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Hope that was a bit unexpected. Anybody surprised at all? I know, there's not much action in this chapter, but I feel like its good to have a bit of a break. I want to spend a little more time on character development and expanding the theme and plot of the story, and I'll try and put a good mix of either in the chapters as I proceed. Not to worry - I'm not half-assing this story as I go -theres a plan - a detailed and suspenseful one. If you think this was all the drama I could pack into one chapter - you're wrong. Was there anyone out there who correctly guessed how that would end up? How do the reapers know about the Master Chief? Are they the ones searching for The Janus Key? What is their plan - and why do they believe that the reclaimer can stop them? Find out more... eventually.