Chapter 10: The Caesar Initiative

Location: Iota Station, 23 Librae system. Date: December 16, 2187, Species Alliance calendar. March 17, 2596, UNSC calendar.

"Iota dockmaster N17, JHF Callahan requesting permission to depart."

With a hot cup of tea in one hand, Dockmaster Adam Alderson switched into the appropriate communications frequency with his other hand. "JHF Callahan, please identify your cargo for final manifest check, over."

"Affirmative, Callahan is carrying twelve generation eight JOTUN Heavy Combines bound for Second Harvest and a shipment of industrial lasers bound for the Cypress colonies. Check?"

"Check," Alderson said as he filled in the necessary information on a digital form. "Callahan, you're cleared for departure. Happy travels."

"Copy, dockmaster. JHF Callahan on departure from Hanger N17."

From the control deck high above the hangar floor, Alderson watched the Callahan lift off and vanish into the void of space. He lived for this job, sure an AI could probably do it faster and better, but it had been decided long ago by the government that a few thousand more employed people was more important than one tenth of a second of efficiency. The AI wasn't missing much anyway, all Alderson really did on this job was assign pre planned flight routes to outbound freighters, fill out initial and final manifest check forms, and direct dockworker teams to their stations.

At its core, Alderson's job was really monotonous, but that didn't really matter to him in the slightest. What mattered to Alderson was the chances this job provided his imagination to run wild. He was in a position to know what every inbound and outbound freighter was carrying and where it was going, and he got his kicks out of wondering what the colonies did with the shipments.

Some were easy to explain. The Callahan's cargo of combines on their way to Second Harvest, for example, was easy because Second Harvest was an agricultural colony founded atop the ruin of the first Harvest colony destroyed by the Covenant. The industrial lasers onboard the freighter were a different story. The Cypress colonies held their name because of their exotic lumber exports, making the shipment a bit out of place. Alderson grinned at the image of a group of lumberjacks cutting large swathes of trees down with the flick of a laser beam as he marked the Callahan as departed and attached the form to his daily log.

In line with his dreamer tendencies, Alderson had his fair share of reasonable ambitions. He pried his eyes away from the numerous holographic displays that made up his workstation to pull an old-fashioned photograph from his pocket. Two little girls looked back at him from the picture. Twins Alderson's wife had died to deliver and he'd raised them with help of a few friends ever since.

At the moment they were with a sitter in Alderson's apartment back in the city, but he did not intend for them to be there long. One day he would earn the promotion from dockmaster to harbormaster and be in charge of all 26 hangar bays in the N block operated by JOTUN Heavy Industries. After holding that position for a decent amount of time, Alderson hoped to have enough pay saved up to move his family out into the frontier where adventure and discovery were reportedly a daily occurrence and the need for competent dockmasters was always on the rise.

An hour and a half later, a flashing amber light shocked Alderson out from his reverie. It was a visual sensor alarm indicating a ship had gotten too close to Hanger N17 without providing proper identification of any kind. Slightly confused, Alderson pulled up schedule of all inbound vessels for the day and checked it against the current time. He found nothing that said a freighter was due right now, in fact, the next scheduled shipment wasn't due for another four hours.

Alderson keyed a command into his primary console and a real time video feed from a camera pointed out into space appeared on his holoscreen. On the feed he could very clearly see the familiar bulky profile of a freighter coasting slowly towards Hanger N17. The most bizarre thing about this freighter, other than being unscheduled, was the complete lack of running lights or any other kind of illumination. Alderson was only to make the freighter out because the angle of the camera highlighted it against the sunny side of the planet Madrigal. In other words, this freighter was running dark.

Alderson gulped down the last of his third cup of tea and switched on his COM gear. "Unknown freighter, please provide identification, clearance, and submit to an initial manifest check." There was no reply. "Unknown freighter, please provide identification, clearance, and submit to an initial manifest check," Alderson said again forcefully. Again, there wasn't any answer. "Unknown freighter, please-."

"Iota dockmaster, TLF Jack Cade on approach."

TLF? There had to be a mistake, TLF stood for Traxus Light Freighter, just like JHF stood for JOTUN Heavy Freighter. So why was this freighter approaching the JOTUN operated N block while the Traxus operated D block was on the other side of the station?

Alderson patched a call the Harbormaster Mack Sullivan's office a few levels above. Hopefully, he'd be able to solve this, "Hey Mack, we have an issue down here," Alderson was friends with the current harbormaster so directly using his name wasn't an issue. Unfortunately, a trend was seemingly occurring because no one answered.

"Harbormaster Sullivan, we have an unscheduled Traxus freighter approaching Hanger N17. Please advise," Alderson's alarm at the pervasive silence was skyrocketing. Then, out of the blue, he got an answer.

"Hanger N17 dockmaster, there's nothing to be worried about. Please allow TLF Jack Cade to dock and do not interfere any further."

Alderson paused, whoever was talking to him was not Mack Sullivan. The harbormaster Alderson knew never talked so seriously nor would he have permitted an unscheduled freighter access right off the bat. Plus, Alderson had never mentioned the freighter's name, something was very wrong.

"Who is this?" Alderson asked, his voice low, "Where is Harbormaster Sullivan?"

"I'm substituting for Harbormaster Sullivan who's dealing with some business. Now, I also have orders from the harbormaster to permit the Jack Cade entrance. Will you please comply?"

"No," Alderson stated, "I need express permission from Sullivan to allow an unscheduled freighter access to Iota. The Jack Cade will simply have to wait until-"

"No, it won't wait," a menacing female voice said. Alderson felt cold metal pressed against the back of his neck and he froze. Lithe fingers slid into Alderson's pocket and pulled out the photograph of his daughters. "If you don't want them raised in a state orphanage I suggest you open the hanger," the woman's voice radiated rage and remorselessness as she spoke.

Alderson struggled with the confusion of being snuck up on and the baffling fact that this person knew about the photograph, but the one thing he did know for certain was that there was a pistol pointed at his head. Now faced with the threat of death, Alderson only hesitated for a few seconds before inputting the necessary commands that would allow ships to pass through the plasma based shielding.

"Done," Alderson said dryly.

"Finally," the woman said in a dreamy sort of way.

Alderson felt the pressure on his neck relax slightly and recognized it as possible his only chance. He knew how to defend himself, and just because his job was easy didn't mean he didn't try to keep fit. Alderson spun this heel and launched his arm out in an attempt to chop the women's gun arm away from himself. The result resembled what happened when an egg hit a brick wall.

Alderson felt the bones of his hand and wrist crumble against the woman's hand and before he could cry in pain the woman viciously crashed her fist into Alderson's jaw, shattering it. He fell to the deck hard, gargling in pain all the way, and got his first good look at his assailant.

The woman was ridiculously tall with razor sharp features, raven black hair, and brown eyes that burned with insane anger. She hovered over Alderson menacingly, rose her left leg, and brought it brutally down on his shin. The sound of snapping bone was followed by a fresh wave agony and Alderson screamed as loud as his shattered jaw would allow.

"What a poor choice," the woman said with no emotion whatsoever as she reared her other leg back for a kick. Alderson hardly had any time to think about his family before the women's foot crashed into his head, shattering his skull and spine and killing him instantly.

Without a shred of emotion the woman stepped over the corpse and approached the console. To her Alderson was just another nameless face on a nameless list of those who'd gotten in her way and payed the ultimate price. After thoroughly making sure no alarms had been triggered and the freighter had full permission to dock she stepped back and observed silently as the Jack Cade came to rest.

"Docking procedure complete. The Cade has landed and the cause is just!" The communications officer aboard the freighter said jubilantly. The woman smiled evilly as red armored figures poured out of the freighter and began apprehending every dockworker in Hanger N17 either peacefully or with force.

The woman's smile faded and she left to rejoin the advanced strike force deep inside Iota Station. The time to strike was fast approaching and once the forces from the Jack Cade had sown enough chaos in the city a century of war would come to a climax. Of course having the right people in the highest places was a bonus.

/

30 minutes later.

Amid the forest of silvery angular towers of a city that was never given a proper name and commonly referred to in tandem with the gargantuan space station around it, Iota Station, was an arguably small clearing named Keyes Square. The cleaning measured hardly 100 by 100 meters and was surrounded on all sides by broad avenues and sidewalks. A field of well kept grass covered the clearing and was bisected symmetrically by two pathways creating four even squares of grass. Two fountains marked where the pathways met the sidewalk on all four sides and in the center of the clearing was a circle. The circle was 15 meters in diameter and paved with polycrete, a four foot high wall of marble ran the circumference of the circle, and in the circle's center was a granite pedestal supporting a bronze statue of a man in a plain naval uniform.

Miranda was leaning against the statue's pedestal observing the routine of the Square's visitors. More than a few picnic blankets were spread out and occupied around the Square, children scurried to and fro, and every bench along the pathways had one or two people on them. To Miranda, Keyes Square was the quintessential image of an urban park.

Pushing herself off the pedestal, Miranda began pacing around the statue and casting glances up into the skyline around her, an action she'd done quite a bit of recently. She and Samara had arrived here an hour and a half ago and in that time the latter had relegated herself to meditation off to the side while Miranda thoroughly combed the area of and around Keyes Square.

This moment of exploration served a twofold purpose for Miranda. On one hand, having been a member of the shadowy and secretive Cerberus organization meant that information gathering and critical deduction were essential skills of hers allowing Miranda to observe the multitude of storefronts and skyscrapers surrounding Keyes Square and form a handful of conclusions and hypotheses about Iota Station and the Assembly in general. Namely, she felt confident in concluding Iota Station was indeed a central trade hub based on a few snippets of information she'd heard briefly on the Normandy before they'd docked. This was based on how lively and bustling the nearby stores were and the enormous amount of things for sale in each business ranging from souvenirs, to tools and food, and even raw materials. Also Miranda's observations led her to theorize that the Assembly relied on a system of mercantilism reminiscent of the old imperial powers of 17th and 18th century Earth where, as advertised in and on numerous places and products, the outer colonies supplied raw material to the core worlds who then used that material in manufactured goods that were than sold back to the outer colonies. It was a fairly decent and efficient method as long as the proper balance was maintained and the parent government didn't overexert its control like the late British Empire.

Continuing her circular pace, Miranda cast her attention up to the tops of the surrounding towers. Each one sported either one or two logos and billboards denoting which corporation either owned or operated within each building along with a corresponding slogan. Silently and probably for the third time, Miranda read off a few of them to herself, 'Traxus Heavy Industries; for the development of our future, Liang-Dortmund Corporation; restoration and continuation, Sagittarius Financial; banking with pride, Vyrant Telecom; stay connected.' Miranda found these small glimpses into the Assembly's corporate end fascinating and very similar to Earth's early to mid 21st century where massive companies controlled huge markets and the government was keyed into the revenue one way or another.

She stopped about three quarters of the way around the pedestal. Here Samara had seated herself against the low marble wall in a meditative position and hadn't moved since and directly across from the Asari was a brass plaque inset into the statue's pedestal. Miranda had already read it earlier, but for the sake of collecting her thoughts she read it again.

Captain Jacob Keyes

(01928-19912-JK)

(February 8, 2495 - September 22, 2552)

Born and raised on Earth, Captain Keyes is one of the most brilliant naval tacticians to serve in the UNSC during the War with the Covenant. Credited with the development of several core naval warfare maneuvers including the Air Break Drop and the Keyes Loop, the legacy crafted from Keyes's three decade long career against the Insurrection and the Covenant lives on today.

In 2535 a then Lieutenant Keyes participated in a daring raid behind enemy lines in which Keyes's commanding officer was killed and Keyes was forced to take control of the prototype stealth frigate, UNSC Midsummer Night. After the raid's conclusion, Keyes was personally responsible for the rescue of millions of refugees previously trapped behind enemy lines and promoted to commander. This raid took place here in the 23 Librae system, specifically in the asteroid belt and the moon Metisette.

Seventeen years later in 2552, Commander Jacob Keyes in command of a lone Halberd-class destroyer, UNSC Iroquois, successfully defended the inner colony world Sigma Octanus IV against four superior Covenant warships. After destroying three and forcing the fourth to retreat through shear tactics, Keyes held the system until UNSC Battlegroup Leviathan arrived and repelled a Covenant counter attack. Commander Keyes was promoted to Captain and participated in the Fall of Reach later that year. One month later, Captain Keyes in command of the now legendary Halcyon-class cruiser, UNSC Pillar of Autumn, fell in battle behind enemy lines. His sacrifice laid the groundwork for the Covenant's eventual downfall.

Miranda shifted her attention up to the statue representing who the plaque described. Keyes was a stern looking man apparently in his middle years and his uniform simply looked too bare for someone of his accomplishments with only a handful of ribbons on his left breast. The statue's posture presented Keyes as a collected and calculating man standing straight with his left hand behind his back and his right hand gesturing towards the field in front of him with an old-fashioned smoking pipe. His bronze eyes seemed to take in everything around him and they exuded a sense of resolution and wisdom.

Miranda paused her examination of one of this humanity's greatest heros. The similarities between Keyes and another significant leader Miranda knew were now at the forefront of her thoughts. There was the most obvious connection of both Keyes and Shepard having been in command of stealth frigates and on a side thought Miranda wondered how UNSC stealth technology stacked up against the Normandy. That aside, both commanders were highly respected tacticians and were very influential in their respective conflicts. If what was described on the plaque true and had circumstances been different Keyes would've been a prime candidate for recruitment into Cerberus. Captain Keyes and Commander Shepard undoubtedly have made a mean team.

Personally, Miranda didn't have any remorse for her previous role as one of Cerberus's top operatives. She'd only ever done what she believed was right and within her duty to humanity. Even now Miranda continued to follow this little code by learning all she could about this other humanity. Even if it meant working closely with Admiral Hackett who she found placed too much emphasis on the bigger picture instead of the smaller details like Shepard had, any and everything she found out now meant no one back home would have to learn it the hard way.

Miranda stepped away from the plaque and turned towards Samara, only to nearly crash into a sprinting small boy. The child deftly weaved around Miranda and ran off clutching an action figure of a green fully armored soldier of some kind with a small plastic rifle. The boy occasionally made mock gunfire noises as he thrust the figure's rifle in one or another direction as the he ran towards the marble wall where he was met by a man and woman standing behind the wall. The women, likely the boy's mother, lifted the child off his feet and gave him a fierce hug then set him back down allowing the father room to reach out and ruffle the boy's hair. Both the mother and child walked away hand in hand along the wall, but before following them the father shot Miranda, and by extension Samara, an uneasy look.

They'd been receiving a lot of those in the past hour and a half since arriving in Keyes Square alone. Some people would approach Samara's impromptu medication spot, take one at the Asari's human-alien appearance, and shoot a look or promptly turn right around. Miranda hadn't quite nailed down the reasoning behind these people's reactions, more observations would be required for that, but with the her modest knowledge about this dimension's history a general mistrust of anything alien, especially something never seen before, wasn't surprising. Miranda had even notice that individuals who'd seen her spend most of her time near Samara tended to actively avoid her when she went roaming. She'd yet to confront these individuals to gauge their reactions, but it was something she was seriously planning.

All of Miranda's brewing plans and schemes were shockingly interrupted by the feeling of fingers tapping her shoulder. Miranda wheeled around and faced the intruder, who turned out to be the UNSC agent serving as their light escort. He was a plain looking man in military fatigues who'd identified himself only as Erving.

"Miss...," the agent glanced down to a holographic datapad he carried, "...Lawson, the call came. It's time to return to the terminal."

Miranda simply nodded and the agent walked away, leaving Miranda to collect Samara. She turned and approached the sitting Justicar.

"I take it you heard," Miranda stated.

Samara's eyes cracked open like someone only just pulling themselves out of deep sleep and stared straight ahead, unmoving. "This place is at ease," she finally said.

Miranda was immediately puzzled by the statement. Having spent a decent amount of time with Samara had accustomed her to Justicar bluntness, yet still the Asari would occasionally make a comment or statement that Miranda found difficult to decipher the exact meaning.

Samara saw Miranda's confusion and was quick to try to clarify. "These people feel confidence and safety in this place, but they do not know true peace. They consistently search for threats, yet are at ease here." Samara looking up at the face of Captain Keyes, "Only a true hero could inspire these emotions."

The Asari's meaning a little bit clearer, Miranda switched topics, "Be that as it may, our time here has run out." That said, Miranda offered her hand to help up Samara and caste one last look over the square. Miranda's gaze locked onto someone at the far side of the park and she tensed slightly.

Now back on her feet, Samara turned in the direction of the parked SUV they'd departed from earlier. Before she could get very far though the same hand she'd used to help herself off the ground fell on her shoulder. Samara could feel the slight tensing of Miranda's hand muscles and knew something was off. "What is it?" she asked then shifted to look Miranda in the face.

Miranda didn't answer immediately, instead she kept her focus fixed on the person of interest. He was leaning against one of the decorative fountains on the far end of the park across from Miranda, had close shaven hair, wore a large brown overcoat, and dark sunglasses, both of which seemed out of place in Iota's controlled climate. However, the most unnerving feature about him was the predatory smile he sported as he scanned his surroundings. Miranda had seen such smiles many times in her past, usually when an adversary believed they'd cornered their target.

Scenarios quickly began filtering through Miranda's mind as she searched the square for any other suspicious characters. One thought to cross her mind was her being paranoid and overreacting to nothing, but then she spotted a second man wearing identical garb as the first patrolling the perimeter of the square. All her ruminations switched to a possible assassination attempt before she reminded herself that the Normandy crew had yet to anger anyone in this dimension to that point.

"Two possibly dangerous individuals," Miranda answered Samara's question after a sizable silence, "Both have brown coats, glasses, and shaven heads." She was still trying to determine who the potential target was, if there was one, but she simply didn't have enough information. Maybe she was overreacting after all.

"Only two?" Samara inquired, her eyes narrowing down to slits and fixing on a spot beyond Miranda who responded with a court nod. "There is a third."

Miranda felt chills run up her spine as subtly peeked over her shoulder. A third browncoat had quietly positioned himself up against the granite pedestal of Captain Keyes's statue. Instantly, Miranda's guard was up and, believing she and Samara were the targets again, slid her hand into her fatigue pants pocket where a compact pistol from the Normandy's armory was stored. Instead, the little boy who Miranda had nearly collided with and was still sprinting in circles playing his game of make-believe with his little green action figure seemed to be the center of the browncoat's attention.

Minutes seemed to roll by as Miranda and Samara, both still unsure of what was going to happen if anything, kept tentative watch on the three unusual characters around them. Then something happened that briefly broke their concentration. A low roaring rumble that both Normandy crew members recognized as a far off explosion echoed and reverberated throughout the city. Things escalated beyond any hope of control from there.

Out of the corner of Miranda's eye she saw Samara reach for her own pistol. She then look back over her shoulder just in time to see the third browncoat's left hand lash out and clamp down on the child's outstretched arm with the toy as he ran by. Miranda wheeled around to face the action as the boy's apparent father leapt over the marble wall and moved to confront the stranger all the while shouting for his attention. The browncoat completely ignored his audience and seemed to only care about the action figure of a green armored soldier clutched in the child's hand. Then, without warning, his right hand burst from underneath his coat which fell away to reveal bright red militaristic body armor covering his upper body and in his right hand was a pistol pointed directly at the charging father who'd instantly froze in his tracks.

The browncoat then turned and stared directly at the two Normandy crew members, taking in their appearance with quick glances. "Earth and its icons will burn!" he shouted at them, likely mistaking them with their obvious military fatigues for UNSC soldiers. The browncoat was also evidently so hopped up on adrenaline he either didn't care or didn't notice that Samara wasn't even human. However, the browncoat's intentions became quite clear when his focus and his pistol turned towards the child's head.

Neither Miranda nor Samara had reason to hesitate now. The browncoat had made his choice. Both crewmembers pulled out the sidearms they'd already been gripping, unfolded the cut down variants of the heavier Predator pistol, aimed, and fired in the span of under a second. The shots rang out, and the precision guided sand grain sized projectiles impacted and pierced both of the browncoat's forearms. The shock and pain of the shots broke the man's grip on the child and his aim, moving his pistol slightly to the right where it discharged and embedded its deadly shot into the polycrete ground a meter away. If the mass effect based weapons sounded like someone throwing a stone at a sheet metal wall, then the browncoat's pistol sounded like a hammer bashing an anvil.

The now truly petrified and deafened child didn't seem to register his newfound freedom instead he crouched as low as he could and screamed with renewed terror. All the while the browncoat, whose coat was only hanging on by the left sleeve and his red body armor was fully revealed, reeled from his injuries. Miranda and Samara didn't waste a second, sheathing themselves in blue energy they lashed out biotically and sent the man flying head first into the far side of the marble wall. The sound of bones breaking was very audible. The entire event hardly lasted 15 seconds.

The boy's father took to the opportunity to scoop up his child and face his boy's saviors. Any thanks or praises he intended to give was cut short when he took one look behind the two biotics and dropped to the ground, covering the child with his body.

Miranda followed the man's gaze out into the square and quickly found the issue. Most people had fled after the three gunshots had rung out, but there was a bewildered few who were still wandering around. Walking through the confusion straight towards the two biotics was the first browncoat Miranda had seen leaning against one of the park's fountains. He had completely ditched his coat and now fully sported the red armor on his upper body and what appeared to be a compact machine pistol or submachine gun with a lengthy stock, short barrel, and a built-in foregrip. Miranda and Samara snapped biotic Barriers in front of themselves and angled them in a way that would deflect anything straight down as the gunman brought his weapon to waist height and pulled the trigger. Bullets pinged and sparked off the Barriers as the gunman's expression morphed from determined rage to shock and awe.

Miranda, seeing the gunfire was contained for the moment, turned back to the two civilians climbing back to their feet behind her. "Go!" she yelled once she had their attention.

"Thank you!" The father half sputtered then sprinted back the way he came carrying the little boy. Approaching the marble wall, the man cleanly leapt over it will a single bound never once touching it in any way. He rocketed for the edge of the park and was soon joined by the child's probable mother. Now complete, the family made it to the edge of the square and presumably to safety.

With that loose end tied up, Miranda turned back to the more pressing matter. The gunman was still firing like a madman, obviously not trained in how to combat biotics and trying to wear down their Barriers with sheer force. All he really accomplished was giving testament to the magazine capacity of his little weapon.

"Fun time's over," Miranda directed the jab at the shooter. She then allowed her Barrier to fall and ducked behind Samara who spared her a quick glance before turning her focus back to maintaining her own Barrier. She immediately prepared a Warp attack in each hand just as the barrage of gunfire stopped. Miranda risked looking over her shoulder, saw the gunman pull a small metal strip off the side of his gun, and yank another strip off of his armored vest. He didn't have a chance to reload as Miranda turned all the way around and lobbed both Warps over Samara's Barrier and directed them down towards the gunman.

Instead of seeking cover like anyone familiar with biotic attacks, the gunman took the strange energy blasts to the face and chest. He dropped to the ground screaming as his body was molecularly torn apart. Two shots from Samara's pistol ended his suffering, but Keyes Square didn't fall quite. Sounds of fighting and gunfire could be heard in all directions, some dim and distant, some seemingly a few blocks away.

"We need to reconnect with the admiral," Miranda stated while remaining fully alert for any more hostiles.

Samara's only response was to activate her Omni-Tool and attempt to communicate with Admiral Hackett. Meanwhile, Miranda moved to the spot where the third browncoat's body had come to rest against the marble wall and took a moment to examine him. The man couldn't have been out of his twenties and yet when he'd shouted his declaration at the beginning of the confrontation the fire in his eyes and voice spoke of a man dead set in his ways.

Slightly frowning, Miranda reached over the body and pried the man's pistol out of his still warm fingers. The pistol was quite compact, about the size of her own sidearm, but it had a squarish rectangular design that seemed reminiscent of early to mid 21st century pistol designs. Further examination revealed a series of etchings along the pistol's side that had Miranda's eyes widen momentarily in surprise.

Misriah Armory Model 6C

12.7mm Semi-Automatic

The startling knowledge she was holding an arguably tiny .50 caliber handgun aside, Miranda easily identified the manual safety, flicked it on, and stuffed it in her pocket fully intending to hand it over to Taylor once they'd reconnected.

"Operative Lawson!" Samara said with force as she crouched down next to Miranda. "Another enemy is nearby, and he has murdered civilians," the sharp edge in the Asari's voice was unmistakable.

Miranda, staying low, risked a glance over the marble wall to see what Samara was talking about. Sure enough, a small field of bodies provided evidence for a second firefight that happened and concluded simultaneously with Miranda and Samara's confrontation with the first and third gunmen. Most of the bodies were in fact civilians, but Miranda recognized one of them as Erving the UNSC agent assigned as their chaperone. He'd apparently rushed in to defend the civilians as evidenced by the pistol clutched in his hand and the prone body of one of the red armored gunmen nearby. However, it appeared somebody else had managed to finish him off.

As the two biotics carefully searched the surrounding area for hostiles they were easily caught by surprise. The body of the supposedly dead gunman who'd engaged the UNSC agent shifted slightly, briefly catching Miranda's attention. Then the body sprang up into a crouched firing position brandishing a large silver colored rifle.

Spotting the danger in time, Miranda latched on to Samara's collar and dropped, pulling the Justicar with her and snapping a hasty Barrier around the two of them. Automatic high caliber gunfire tore the air where the two biotics had previously been gouging holes into the Captain Keyes's granite pedestal and blowing away chunks of marble which rained down and bounced off Miranda's Barrier. Then, almost as quickly as it began the shooting stopped.

Miranda released her Barrier and scrambled back to her feet. Peeking over the now perforated wall she saw the last gunman sprinting with all his might away from them. Not intending to let him go, Miranda prepared and launched a Stasis attack freezing the gunman in place.

Both biotics were instantly over the wall and gliding across the square, weapons at the ready, towards their quarry. Miranda momentarily allowed Samara to pull ahead while she paused by the body of Erving and retrieved his weapon. It wasn't all that different from the first pistol she'd recovered. It was slightly larger, the barrel was vaguely cylindrical instead of rectangular, and it was a dull grey instead of matte black however the overall layout seemed to be identical. Like the first, Miranda found and flicked the weapon's safety then stuffed it in another of her fatigue's spacious pockets. She then moved a few meters over to where the gunman had opened fire on them and bent down to the ground.

The spot was littered with brass shell casings Miranda recognized as a staple of weaponry from her humanity's past, but were apparently still widely used in this dimension. She guessed it made sense. Without mass effect technology conventional ballistic or energy weapons would've been the logical paths of development and this humanity had chosen the former.

Miranda pocketed a handful of the shells for future study. Likely humans in this dimension, within the four centuries they'd been using conventional weapons longer than her own, had developed a number of improvements that could prove useful.

Miranda finished her little scavenging operation and rejoined Samara near the gunman frozen in Stasis. The man was much older than his two compatriots had appeared possible in his forties or fifties with leathered skin, greyed hair, and baleful eyes that tracked the two biotics' every move. He did not remotely seem phased by the pistol barrel Samara held at his temple.

"Tell us what the point of this attack was?" Miranda questioned, slipping into the interrogative personality that had served her well over the years. Now she intended to use it to extract as much information as she could.

"I won't talk to some Inner Colony creature and a damn xeno sympathizer," the man vehemently hissed.

Miranda looked over to Samara who the man seemingly had mistaking for a human dressing as an alien instead of the real deal. The Justicar answered Miranda's silent question with a nod. This man had murdered innocents meaning any chance he could spared was gone in Samara's mind.

Miranda began employing a technique she'd developed over the last year with Stasis. She manipulated the mass effect fields in such a way that the pressure within the bubble began to increase, making whoever was inside feel like he was being crushed by a ton of weight. Miranda had found this method useful whenever she needed to extract information on the fly. The fact that most law enforcement officials back home tended to look the other way on the unethical treatment of lawbreakers now a days helped too.

"I'll ask again. What was the point of this attack?"

The man had already begun to squirm and whimper. His hands and feet were desperately twitching, trying to break the invisible bonds that held him. Not long into the process and after a line of blood freely flowed from his nose the man let out an explosive gasp and sucked in another ragged breath and started talking. Not many could withstand the feeling of the their own head on the verge of imploding.

"Seize hostages...fortify...hold position...distract cops," he wheezed.

"Distract the cops from what?" Miranda asked with intent to keep her momentum rolling.

"Primary target," the man said with effort, his eyes starting to bulge.

"And who is your target?" Samara interjected this time.

"UN...SC...Security Council...convoy. Imperial Earth...will die." That was all the two biotics needed to know.

Miranda released her hold on the Stasis bubble and gunman inside promptly fell on his face. Samara then stepped forward and put a bullet in the back of his head. The Justicar usually wouldn't have permitted the mistreatment of a prisoner especially with such methods of interrogation, but ever since the end of the War she'd been operating in the morally grey so often exceptions and changes to the Justicar Code were almost daily. What was one more? Especially when the lives of her comrades and arguably the fate of billions back home was at stake.

Miranda was already attempting to contact the rest of the team on her Omni-Tool. Anxiety spread over her face as she realized she couldn't acquired a connection. "Did you get in contact with Admiral Hackett or any of the others earlier?" she asked Samara, already halfway knowing the answer.

"No," Samara stated, "something on their end is blocking our communications."

Miranda racked her brain, trying to put things together. The gunfire had all began with a massive explosion, most likely a signal to begin the diversionary raids. If the Security Council convoy was the prime target, Hackett and the others were either under siege or already gone. Regardless, Miranda fully intended to get them back to the Normandy alive or not, but she and Samara needed to find them first. Connecting with the local military or police forces would be a likely first step.

As fate would have it a pair of four door sedans Miranda had seen a dozen times today driven by civilians jetted around a corner and began rocketing down the street parallel to Keyes Square. The standout features that caught Miranda's attention and seemingly answered her unspoken prayers was the universal blue and white paint scheme and the flashing red and blue lights on the sedan's roofs.

"Sam!" Miranda called over her shoulder with the simple intent of getting the Asari's attention. She then initiated a biotic Dash halfway across the square and barely managed to come to a stop in the middle of the street. The police vehicles immediately applied breaks with the first sedan coming to a stop barely a meter in front of Miranda while the second sedan had to swerve off to the side in order to avoid rear ending their colleagues.

Miranda immediately began sucking wind. The Dash was technique she wasn't well versed in and compared to all the other biotic moves she'd pulled today the Dash had taken the most energy out of her. As Miranda began to slow her breathing the driver side door of the first sedan popped open.

The policeman who stepped out was tall, broad shouldered, and wore a blue and black uniform under a full set of riot armor comprised of a bulky flak jacket with other pieces of armor covering important spots on his arms, legs, and thighs. His helmet was fully enclosed with a golden colored blast shield covering his face. On the upper portion of the shield the words, 'PLEASE REMAIN CALM', digitally scrolled from right to left.

Miranda didn't take that recommendation very seriously. Especially when the policeman pulled a tubular rifle into view, racked the forward grip back and forth identifying it as possibly a pump-action shotgun, and pointed it directly at Miranda.

"Who the Hell are you?" The policeman's vaguely southern accented voice boomed from behind the blast shield, possibly aided by built-in microphones.

"I'm Miranda Lawson, okay, we need your help."

The policeman's gaze and aim shifted slightly in the direction of Samara as she came to a halt on the sidewalk adjacent to Miranda. "You two military?"

"Yes," Miranda said, deciding then and there to try and keep things short and simple. "The rest of our unit is in trouble and we need help locating them."

"What is she?" the officer cocked his head in Samara's direction.

"She's an Asari. A recently contacted species." Miranda lied. She knew revealing their extra-dimensional origins would only complicate things beyond control.

"UNSC's recruiting aliens now, eh? About time," the officer paused and stuck his head back into the sedan. Miranda barely heard snippets of a conversation mentioning a Colonel Mackenzie and the need to get to his position quickly.

The officer pulled his head back out of the sedan and looked back to Miranda. "You have anything to do with that?" He pointed his shotgun in the direction of Keyes Square where the small collection of dead bodies was very visible.

"We kept it from getting worse," was Miranda's only answer.

"Good deal," the officer said nodding. "Tell you what. Our CO is engaged with a large number of insurgents a few blocks away. Come help us out and we'll get you back to your unit. Sound good?"

"Perfect," Miranda chirped.

Alright, back seat's empty. Hop in." The officer lowered the shotgun and and reentered the sedan. Miranda and Samara quickly followed, stepped into the sadan's back seat, and strapped in just as the vehicle took off again followed by the second sedan. The officer in the passenger seat twisted around to get a look at the new riders. He was slightly smaller than the driver but otherwise wore identical armor.

"Corporal Shane Oberon," the second officer reached his hand back to Miranda who shook it. "This is Sergeant Rick Haynes. There's no need to worry, we'll find a way to fix this."

/

Minutes earlier:

"Target convoy in sight. 100 meters to killzone."

"Prime the IED."

"Primed. Waiting for the word."

"All teams hold fire."

They were pretty words. The prettiest she'd heard in years. Years of hiding in the dark, running from assassins, and rooting out moles. Years spent collecting, building, and scheming for today. Now the day was here, and the vengeance Ilsa Zane had spent decades persuading was finally in reach.

Zane brushed a stray lock of jet black hair out of her face and when the time was right she keyed her communicator.

"Detonate."

/