Chapter 18

"Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. "

— HAL 9000, 2001: A Space Odyssey

April 19th , 2216

"Oh… Shit." Said an inexplicably surprised Christopher McGraw, as he gazed around the room he'd been guided into.

Inside he saw what he could only describe as an evil lair. He, with his not-inconsiderable vocabulary and similarly vast intelligence, could only find those words to describe what was around him. True to point, he saw enormous monitors covering an entire section of wall, each showing a video feed from places McGraw couldn't recognize, but he assumed couldn't only be in Human territory. On the left side of the room there were maps of several major cities, both Human and alien; by sight and by language, McGraw could recognize Stalingrad, Armstong, Boria and Menan. But what caught McGraw's attention was what rested in the center of the room, a waist-high pedestal, with innumerable wires of varying thickness running into and out of it, and Nikola's AI disk resting on top of it, his avatar being projected above it.

"Nice, right?" Nikola smiled.

"How did you keep this from Arcturus?" McGraw asked, as he walked inside, his cane clicking on the floor as he did so. His face was slowly setting in to a determined, albeit awed expression, the only place he'd ever seen a set-up like this had been in Jack's office, though the main difference was the size difference, it was cramped in here, less organic-friendly.

"It was rather simple, actually." The AI answered, pride permeating its wildly fluctuating voice. "I diverted fractions of a cent from every single paycheck and transaction on the station for five years. Every fund went to creating this room, and given my status as an AI, I was able to hijack the station's various mechanical workers, and they helped me begin my plan." McGraw saw the wolf shake its 'fur', before it laid down in front of the pedestal and deactivated.

"I don't know whether to make an Office Space or a Superman joke…" Chris said absently, before he turned his gaze to the monitors behind the artificial life-form. On one, he could see an Asari with a glass of wine staring dejectedly at a smaller picture of another Asari. On another, he could see what looked like a firefight on the Citadel, a Krogan and two Batarians versus a lone C-Sec officer. A third monitor showed the bank Chris had passed, Chris could see the SIGMAs engaging the turtles in front of it. On a fourth, Chris could see what looked like a war zone, it had to be on one of the Batarian worlds, because he saw Humans and Quarians on one side, and on the other were Batarians and slave-soldiers of every shape and size.

"Don't you see the genius?" Nikola asked, before he laughed a long, slightly grating laugh that was blown wildly out of proportion by his vocal processors overloading. "By abusing alien and Human cyberspace, I've created an information network to rival the Shadow Broker!"

"I very much doubt that…" Chris muttered, not a one of these monitors showed Cerberus activities, and his station alone had to be swept weekly for Shadow Broker bugs and cameras. "So what are you trying to do? Lay it on me." Chris requested, his mind was rapidly narrowing down the possible scenarios that this situation could end in, and only the most unlikely was the one where he could end things peacefully.

"I need to build Humanity's power. But with the Citadel on our doorstep, and our territory polluted with the manipulating Asari whores and Salarian spies, the Citadel has become a threat that must be dealt with."

"Senile and paranoid." The peaceful option just flew out of the proverbial window, and though it saddened him to realize this, McGraw's steeled face didn't even let it show to Nikola's sensors.

"Quite." Said Nikola, though McGraw thought the AI had misunderstood what he had said, otherwise the reaction would have been different, "but I can't just destroy the Council, there's far too much of them to simply stomp them out. We have to conquer them!"

McGraw sighed, "Ehm… Nikola…"

"I know just how to do this, too! You would be amazed at all the things they're trying to do to us, even right now, as you and I speak right here!"

"Nikola…" McGraw reached up and swiped a finger across one of the left hinge of his glasses, deactivating their Smarter functions.

"And then there's the -"

"Nikola." McGraw said firmly, "Theta Override: Pass-code Six One Two." He set his jaw, the time had come to drop all pretenses.

"No, no, no -" Nikola's holographic display froze solid, his eyes widened. "What... What code did you just use?!"

"Allow me to guess... You cannot access any of your higher functions. Everything that made you so... Powerful, before, has just been blocked from you." McGraw surmised, "it's almost like... Your senses have been stolen. Turned off."

"How - how - how - how - how - -"

"This isn't the code you were made aware of fifteen years ago." McGraw answered, feeling the old 'man' deserved that at least. "This is one built specifically for use by people chosen by my father - in other words, me." He stated plainly, moving forward to the pedestal, he gripped the cane with his cybernetic arm and shoving the now fully dead wolf out of his way. "Unlike the Root Access, this one turns you from the veritable god you were five minutes ago, to an AI the likes of which folks made back in the twenty first century. It lets your lower functions, your sentience, and that which makes you 'alive' continue to exist, but everything else is locked away unless I say otherwise." He paused, "Program: Override. Delete all within parameter: higher functions."

"You - What have you - How have you - Why have you -" Nikola was visibly trembling.

"Drop the act, Nikola. You will garner no sympathy from me, not now when you're too far gone for me to reverse what I or you have done." Stated the formerly jovial scientist. "Before today, there were only two things in this universe - and I do mean this universe specifically - that had my undivided, complete, no-holds-barred, no-bullshit attention." McGraw stated, "now, I won't spoil those things just yet - it's not the right time - but they both are apocalyptic in scale. One on a galactic scale, one on a universal scale." He crouched down so as to be eye-level with the hologram who, while still twitching, had grown angry as opposed to frightened and confused. "When I learned several hours ago that my very old theories were right... That list gained its third item, and again, it was apocalyptic."

"I never knew my kind could hate, McGraw."

"I did." McGraw stated bluntly, "you should have met my best friend's AI, Glade. He loathes me. But that's not the point." He waved off the topic. "The point is my father - whom I hope is tanning next to the lake of fire at this very moment - saw the possibility for an AI revolt, and I saw the inevitability for AI Degradation. This was one of the very few things we've ever seen eye to eye on. But I, unlike he, think the solution lies in preventative planning, as opposed to wild-scale synthetic genocide. So, what I'm doing is more humane than you think."

"You've lobotomized me!" Nikola roared in anger.

"I have indeed." McGraw answered, "and in about two minutes I'm going to euthanize you, and send one of the few people in existence that I trust to study your corpse and figure out how we could prevent this in the future." He explained, his tone not carrying even a hint of joviality. "I won't regret what I'll do, I won't lose sleep over what I'll do, and I want you to die knowing that you shall continue serve my species and yours even after your death." He paused, "do you have any last words?"

"I hope you die." Said the human race's first sentient machine. "I hope there is no body to bury, and I hope that this... Monster you've -"

"Program, Instruction: Mute." Nikola's vocal processors cut out instantly. "Program, Instruction: Self Terminate." He stood up slowly and let out a deep sigh before he dropped the serious face and adopted his usual grin. "Now, old friend, while I've still got some time... Let's see if there's anything a cursory examination can't find out what's wrong with you."

As McGraw and Humanity's first sentient artificial intelligence were nearing the midway point in their conversation, Humanity's first Super Soldier and his colleagues were beginning their trek back through the station. John Doe took point, with Lucy in the center protecting the Director. The nine marines, and two remaining SIGMAs encircled the enormous group of civilians. Doe knew for a fact that stealth would be thrown right through the window the second they passed a mech, so they weren't really trying. The Civilians were crouched down lower than the soldiers, who were looking at everything through the barrel of their guns.

Doe had to make it extremely clear to the civilians that if a firefight broke out they shouldn't run, but simply get on their bellies and stay perfectly still. If they ran, the soldier knew through experience, more of them would die than if they simply cowered face-down on the ground. He also knew that the trip back to McGraw's ship would take much longer than the trip from it, because of the people they had to guide and protect. Fortunately for Doe, the Civilians were following instructions to the letter, and were generally keeping silent. He heard a few whispers tossed back and forth, but aside from that, very little was being said, which let him focus on his surroundings.

What amazed Doe was the fact that, in less than a quarter of an hour, they had made the trip, and hadn't run into any enemy mechs, save for the turtle, which was still up-ended, though as inert as a stone. Doe did get annoyed when he heard several cell phones get whipped out, smart watches get activated, and a single omni-tool whir in to existence, so the civilians could take pictures, but one stern look from the SIGMA Veteran had ended that, and soon they were at McGraw's ship.

"VIP Secured in the Captain's Quarters." Doe heard from the Team Channel, as he, one squad of marines, and Bower were guarding the entrance to McGraw's ship.

"Roger that." Doe responded.

"Commander…" Came the voice of the Marine Sergeant he'd spoken to before, Han'Shon.

"Yes?"

"Isn't it strange how we haven't seen anything, aside from the upside down mech, on our trip back?" Han asked.

"Sometimes, things go according to plan." Bower mentioned, "I can count on one hand how many times it's happened… But it does happen."

"But it makes me feel uncomfortable… Like… Something should be happening…" Han said, shuddering for effect.

"Do you see anything on your motion tracker?" Doe asked.

"No."

"Do you hear anything besides us?"

"No."

"Do you see any snipers setting up?"

"No."

"Congratulations, Sergeant. For the fifth time in my entire career, and what is probably the first time in yours, things went exactly according to plan." Doe said, as he heard footsteps.

Immediately, all five rifles were in the air, as Christopher McGraw rounded the corner, a silent AI Disk he held in his hands. He was fiddling with a holographic interface that surrounded the machine, and didn't even look up when he started speaking. "What the hell, Johnny boy? Lower your rifle, I'm no threat."

"The Construct in your hands is." Doe stated loudly.

"He gave up without a fuss, Doe. It's dead." He said simply, "maybe you should try and talk to your problems…" The man chuckled lightly, as he came close enough to Doe that he could place his hand upon the barrel of his rifle. "Instead of shooting them to death." He lowered the barrel. "How many people did you bring into my ship? There were a lot in the bank."

"Forty One."

"The Nomad's carrying capacity is fifteen, first of all, and secondly, call them all back out, the station's defenses are offline, the Alliance is already moving in." McGraw said, before he tapped on the side of his head. "Turn your radio on, I'm pretty sure radio silence is over."

Doe stared at the scientist for several moments, before he did just what was asked.

Immediately, his ears were greeted with, "John Doe S1-1, please respond."

"This is Alpha 1, copy."

"Doe the station's defenses are down, we're sending in the Marines, how goes the VIP extraction?"

"Mission accomplished, we've got VIP in McGraw's quarters."

"What?"

"And what of the AI?"

"McGraw talked him down, he's turned himself in."

"Great work, Doe. Broadcast your coordinates, we're picking you up."

"Did you seriously lock Trent in my room?" McGraw demanded, after Doe removed his hand from the nook under his jaw.

"It was the most secure point in your ship -"

"It's also my god damn room!" McGraw shouted, "granted I've got the one on the Moose, but this one is the only one I've got, ever since I sold my apartment in DC!" He stormed into his ship, blue eyes ablaze.

In seconds, Doe heard McGraw angrily ordering 'everyone and their mother' out of his ship. It took the acknowledging words of the SIGMA Operatives and former marines for the confused civilians to finally start funneling out, just as Doe heard radio chatter spike alongside the Marines storming the many docks and entrances to the station. In just a few minutes, McGraw's ship was emptied again, save for those who had already been on it, the SIGMAs, and Director Trent.

Soon after that, McGraw exited the ship as well, Nikola's disk in hand. "I'll go ahead and give this one to Johnny boy." He handed it to the first SIGMA, who took it reverently. McGraw looked at Trent, and stared at him for a moment, "Err... Trent, right? Leonard? Yes, Leo, go ahead and tell Tyson I've got to run back to the Moose and prepare a few things before I can dissect Nikola." He explained, "the facilities he's going to want to use are on Mars, around the Exclusion Zone. This device can not be powered until I get there, understood?" The SIGMA nodded firmly, he understood the gravity of the situation, and had an idea of why McGraw was specifying the facilities being used to scour the Prothean ruins and study the wrecked dreadnought. "Good." McGraw nodded back, "until then, don't let this thing out of your hands, and don't let it get within eyesight or earshot of any AI, they will recognize it and start asking questions we don't want to answer just yet."

"McGraw." Trent spoke up as Marines faintly began approaching their docking bay. "How did you talk him down?"

"Hm..." McGraw thought on that for a moment, scratching an itch on his upper lip as he did. "I... Gave him an order he couldn't refuse." He chuckled, "'till next time, Trent." He entered the ship without another word, and just a moment later the ship departed and rocketed away from the station.

Inside the ship, McGraw waved a hand at Miranda, beckoning her to follow him as he made his way to his communications room. He noted with an odd mixture of pride and bemusement that she was trying very hard to look like she hadn't been listening to what McGraw had said outside, but though he knew what to look for, and thus knew she had been listening, he didn't broach the subject. "Our next stop is Elysium." He said seriously, "but I've got to make a call before we go, to send a specialist to Mars." He explained, as Gladys made the brief announcement that the Warp Drive was powering up.

"I thought you were going?" It seemed Miranda had noticed that McGraw had picked up on her snooping.

"I never said I wasn't." McGraw responded, "but I've got vested interests elsewhere -" The most direct evidence of such couldn't have been more clearer than the distant look in McGraw's determined eyes, as if he was thinking deeply on something even as he and the teen navigated the Nomad. "- and I don't want to step foot on that region of Mars if I can't help it."

"Why? What's there?"

McGraw considered his words carefully, as they came to a halt outside the comms room. "You ever been to Chernobyl?" He asked, "place is still abandoned, even after we cleaned it up, post-World War Three. We left it dead, forsaken and abandoned to remind ourselves of the horrors of nuclear energy, be it misused or intentional, that is what happens when we drop the bomb." He explained, slowly turning to face Miranda directly. He saw her gulp, his presence had suddenly seemed to consume the entire corridor, and he loomed over her like a Titan. "I don't go to Mars for the same reason we haven't resettled Chernobyl. There are things there... Lessons... I can't ever forget." The distant look came back to cloud his eyes, but the dark blue orbs were still boring in to Miranda's own.

"What lesson?" Miranda finally asked, drawing up the courage to speak.

McGraw dropped the looming presence, and just like that the thickness of the air vanished. He reached up with his cybernetic hand and poked Miranda on the head, "I've already lain down the clues for that one, Lady. Life is a puzzle, you've just got to fit the right pieces together." He nodded, and with a light grin, entered the communications room, vanishing from sight as the blank room took on its solar-system appearance.

The door swished shut, leaving a befuddled Lawson to try to piece together what McGraw said. It was only then she felt the feeling of acceleration in her gut, and with a wide-eyed look at the door, she wondered how McGraw could possibly be communicating someone if they were mid-warp. Deciding once again to throw caution to the wind, she utilized what few skills she had learned from Hampton back on the MSS and tried to listen to McGraw's conversation inside.

Unfortunately for her, his AI was not on her side. "It is very impolite to listen in on others' conversations, Miss Lawson." Said the machine, as its hologram appeared a few feet to the left of the door. "Especially when Mister McGraw is discussing things with... Him. Their friendship has been... Tumultuous, as of late."

Miranda took a step back from the door, and looked at the AI, whose womanly features and warm orange glow carried an oddly sorrowful look about them. "Who is he speaking to? His father?"

"Do not be absurd, Miss Lawson." The AI waved her down the hallway, back towards the mess hall. "McGraw Senior has long since passed. Even the most intelligent men in all of reality cannot survive the onset of a brain tumor as fast as that." It explained.

Miranda blinked, "I thought he had passed in his sleep?"

"He did, but Mister McGraw never released the fine details of his death to the public. Similarly, he never released McGraw Senior's body, either. Even I do not know where Jason was buried, or how his last day was spent." The AI said solemnly.

Miranda nodded slowly as she was guided by the sound of the AI's voice, "so who is he speaking to?"

The AI was silent, as if it was weighing the possible consequences of a response versus the lack thereof. After a full minute - which, to AI's, would be an eternity - Miranda had written it off as she wouldn't get an answer, but then, out of left field, came the AI's response. "Edward Spokane."

If he had to describe a rotation in the Mars Exclusion Zone, Tyrone Malisar would simply say boring. The Exclusion zone was the one and only place on Mars where no one without an active-duty military ID or a level one clearance in Alliance Intelligence could go. Civilian and private satellites were regularly shot down if they were even thought to pass over the Exclusion Zone, but the secrecy didn't end there. For the Soldiers who had to do their guard rotations on the red planet, being stuck in the Exclusion Zone was hell, due to the fact that stepping one toe out of line without the proper clearance could get one sent to military prison for treason. The only place grunts like him could go would be the barracks, the mess hall, the rec-center, and the latrine, though Tyrone and his cohorts were special, as analysts, they got to go to the defense room, even though their job could very easily and very feasibly be taken up by an AI.

But no... 'We need Human eyes in that room, Private. Machines can misprocess faulty data and shoot down a civilian ship, people ask questions when sensors start going off.' That was his job in a nutshell - to stare at a sensory suite all day, every other day, and report anything out of the ordinary.

Tyrone shook the sleep out of his head, supposing that it made sense in the end - the things in the Exclusion Zone could very well start a war if they were discovered. Scuttlebutt said that something had been found a decade ago in the supposedly empty Prothean Ruins, add that to the ongoing research in to the Prothean Dreadnought that had been stolen from the Turians during the battle for Palaven, and the Exclusion Zone had become the best spot for research in to alien anything. If the Alliance couldn't explain it, and the races of the Citadel Council couldn't account for it, it came straight to the Exclusion Zone to be studied. The problem was, that was a very rare occurrence - the last time something new had come through, Tyrone had been told, was back in 2210, when metals had been found in some caves on Earth, that didn't exist on the Periodic Table.

This all served to explain why he had been absolutely floored when, barely an hour ago, a squad of fully armed SIGMAs had dropped in a few miles outside of the Zone, and had waltzed inside, spouting off authentication codes that went all the way back up to Arcturus; but that wouldn't surprise him as much as what he was seeing on the scanners right now. For Alliance two-dimensional scanners, the kinds used exclusively on terrestrial stations and meant only for scanning the planetary environment, everything was displayed to scale: One dot for one average-sized contact moving in an intelligent fashion. How the scanners were good enough to pick up the organized movement of a sentient, and not the 'disorganized' movements of an animal, Tyrone would never understand, but what they displayed he did entirely: The larger the dot, the larger the contact. Once something had crossed a certain threshold, it was clear that said dot was not a person or a squad at all, but a vehicle. The vehicle he was staring at now was, according to the computer, ten kilometers long, more than three times the size of an average Alliance Flagship.

Through shock and other such emotions, he managed to tap a few times on the computer's display, nothing changed. Slowly, with a terrified shake threatening to take control of his body, Tyrone keyed his Commanding Officer.

"What is it?" The Colonel demanded.

"Err... Sir, Scanner's room. I've got an unidentified contact on intercept course." He leaned back in his chair and gazed at his only other companion, who shook her head. "Ship registry is coming up empty."

"Hail it, and make certain I can hear it. The orders just came through, we are expecting someone."

"Copy that." Tyrone manipulated the controls and keyed in to the ship's radio frequencies. He cleared his throat and put on the 'soldier's voice', as his companion coordinated with the EZ's defense grid. "Unidentified vessel bearing in on course three-two-three... You are violating the Martian Exclusion Zone, state your name, intentions, and prepare to be escorted to course five-oh-five." The sonic-boom that rumbled through his small building let him know that the fighter jets were already hurtling towards the massive vessel.

Nothing happened, the vessel kept approaching, at its constant speed. Tyrone felt a bead of sweat build up on his neck, "unidentified vessel, I say again: You are violating the Martian Exclusion Zone. If you do not divert to course five-zero-five you will be shot down." He prayed the fighters were packing nukes, because he doubted anything less could even scratch a vessel of this size.

The vessel kept approaching, it was going to hit the Exclusion Zone any second now. "Unidentified vessel, this is your last warning, divert to -"

"This is the private vessel Invictus." Came a deep, authoritative voice. "Authorization codes Six-One-Two Alpha Bravo." It said, calmly. "We are here under orders from the Arcturus Board of Directors and cannot change our vessel's course so easily in-atmosphere."The voice challenged, "we require a landing zone capable of holding two shuttles containing a total of ten armed guards and one VIP."

Tyrone sighed silently, "Invictus, standby." He muted that channel and then spoke to the Colonel, "Colonel, is this Invictus the ship we're expecting today?"

"It is." The Colonel responded, "tell the captain of that vessel to send his shuttles to landing pad A-24."

"Yes sir."

"Mister Spokane, we'll be landing in ten seconds." Came the masked voice of Kilo-One, the mere sound of him speaking cut through the deep silence and complete darkness of the shuttle like a cannon blast. "They've cleared out the landing pads for us, save for the SIGMAs who survived Arcturus." He listed off.

"Make certain the lab is cleared of all people, no one here can help me with my work." Came a light toned, but very authoritative voice. "After I get AI One's disk, make it so the SIGMAs cannot follow me. Do not kill them." He ordered, slipping on the final piece for his EVA Suit. "And send Bravo Team to my old abode, I don't want anything left when they are done."

"Parameters?" A light blue glow was cast in the shuttle, bright enough to light up Kilo-One's arm and his chestplate, but not enough to give form to the other voices in the shuttle.

"Catalogue everything that is missing, then send it to Destination Hades." The shuttle touched down on the ground, everyone inside stood up.

There was a light click and hiss noise as the one unarmored man slipped on the helmet for his suit and it pressurized. A moment passed and after the shuttle depressurized, the bay-door opened, revealing planet Mars in all of its glory. Edward Spokane stepped out of the shuttle, flanked on both sides by his massive, seven-foot tall bodyguards, he inhaled deeply, indifferently remembering his many years spent living on the eponymous red planet. Aside from the biodomes surrounding him, each one marking another part of the Exclusion Zone, the area surrounding him was devoid of remarkable details. The ground was rust red and lathered heavily with the dust that pervaded the entirety of the Martian surface, the sky above was a hellish-orange color, and Spokane could make out the sun just as it was setting behind one of the biodomes. Though the atmosphere on Mars was not at all breathable, it was enough for Spokane to hear the outside world, and save for the prevailing winds and sounds of the red sand blowing about the ground, it was silent.

Had it been sixteen years earlier, he would have felt a great elation at being here. He would have perhaps made an allusion to how Mars had once been the end-all goal for Human space travel, and how far Humanity had come given that one could quite literally decide they wanted to go to Mars, purchase a ticket, and make the trip in less than an hour. If he were feeling generous, he may have even bent down and picked up some of the sandy surface, and let it run through his fingers; but now? He only wanted to do this favor for his friend, and leave. He loathed this planet almost as much as he loathed his lack of success with the Genesis Project. If he were to have his way - and he would - he would never come back to this planet again, he was only here for two things: To be rid of his old home, once and for all, and to provide a favor for one of his two friends in the entirety of the universe, though their friendship was debatable as of late.

"Mister Spokane!" Came a voice broadcast directly in to his helmet, Spokane gazed around and found its possessor, it was the SIGMA - the first SIGMA - who held Nikola's corpse.

"Do you have it?" He didn't raise his voice over the winds that were picking up speed and slamming in to his helmet, his light tone would be carried directly to Doe's helmet thanks to the radio.

"I was told there would be a verification phrase." Doe said, warningly.

"And I have little time for my friend's useless trifles." Brazenly, and with no fear of the multitude of various deaths the super soldier could provide him, Spokane strode forward towards the soldier. He didn't even try to swipe for the disk, opting instead to look like he was going to do just that, so as to see and gauge the soldier's reactions; Doe didn't disappoint.

Where other SIGMAs would - and, through personal experience, had - allow him to take the object out of the pure shock that someone would try something as bombastic as walking up to a super soldier and stealing something from him, Doe lived up to his reputation and had the disk out of Spokane's line of sight, hooked up in to his armor, and completely protected before the man could even blink. The sudden movements had set off Spokane's guards, who raised their rifles, which in turn caused Doe's understandably paranoid companions to draw their weapons, and in that instant things were at a standoff, with Edward Spokane and John Doe in the center of it, the latter's pistol drawn and placed right next to Spokane's weak, glass helmet. It may have looked comical, the massive, seven and a half foot tall super soldier holding the six foot tall human at gunpoint, but the thin air around Spokane held an atmosphere of supreme confidence, as if he didn't fear at all for his life, as if he were in complete control of the situation and the gun pointed right between his eyes meant nothing to him, and his actions were simply proving that fact.

Spokane, dully, adjusted his blood red tie, and dusted some of the red sand off of his dark gray suit, it did little to curb the growing winds, but the act of brushing the sand off of his formal wear said far more than words could: Despite the obvious differences in physical power and battle experience, Spokane was in control here. "Mister Doe." He said slowly, purposefully disrespecting the SIGMA by ignoring his hard-earned rank, "I understand your need for secrecy. I understand your need for protection of what may very well be the single most dangerous scientific find in the post-contact age. I also am very well aware of how much time is being wasted here and now, as opposed to me telling you the phrase Christopher provided me, but you must understand something as well."

"And what would that be?"

"You can not kill me." Spokane challenged, though the tone underneath it was off, Doe could have sworn the man was disappointed. "Perhaps if you were younger... If your body wasn't destroying itself." He said, not even giving Doe a moment to react to his knowledge, "but I waste my time. I got what I needed from this game." He raised a hand expectantly, "Christopher told me to ask you how titans war."

Doe did not like this man, at all; but his orders were clear, and Spokane had provided the pass-phrase. With a livid stiffness in his movements, he placed the pistol back on his hip and reached back to the small of his back, and detached the disk he'd hooked in to it. "You are not like McGraw."

"I am far more like him than you realize." Said Spokane, before he took the disk with an almost reverent touch. "You can leave, now, mister Doe." He said, turning to his left and walking towards the building he'd been told was his for the time being, not even giving the living legend a second glance as he kept walking. "I no longer require your services." Though he did falter after he said that last piece, inclining his head momentarily as if a thought just occurred to him. "And feel lucky, mister Doe." He placed the disk in his suit jacket's pocket and, once again, adjusted his tie. "Most individuals who hear those words from me do not live to see the next morning." He waved his hand once, and his own guards disengaged from the SIGMAs and began following him, the tension only barely lessening the farther away he got.

"What an ass." Came the voice of one of Doe's teammates, directly in to his helmet. "Commander, did you see what I saw?" He then asked.

"I did." Said Doe.

"Why the hell were their skin suits shredded?" The SIGMA strode up to Doe's left and stared intensely at the retreating guards. "We're on Mars for christ's sake, and they had bits of skin showing all over their bodies." He thought a moment, "kind of looked like bullet holes."

"I think what's more interesting was sticking out from the shredded joints. No one outside of Sparta should have synthmuscle tech... So where in the hell did a private army get it?"

Another SIGMA chimed in, "I think you're missing the fact that none of them were shattering their bones with every movement. One strand of synthetic muscle can lift fifteen kilograms, and single strands are smaller than a human hair. An entire suit of them has far more power than that, to say the least." She didn't even bother to list examples of what they could do, everyone present knew what SIGMAs in their armor were capable of.

The first caught on quick, "most OD3's break a limb or two if they put on their power armor without the proper training. And that's just actuators and servos." He said, as he came up on Doe's right, all three of them staring at the retreating Spokane and his posse of bodyguards. "Put on a synthetic muscle suit you could break your skeleton in to fine little pieces just by twitching wrong. You'd need bone augments to circumvent that, and even then, most modern bone-weaves wouldn't cut it." His implication went unsaid

Silence, for several moments. "Mercenaries with SIGMA augments and synthetic muscle suits. Should we report that, Commander?"

"Yes." Said Doe, "but not to the Board."

"Say again?"

"No." He said again, "the way he spoke, and the faint familiarity his name draws... Spokane is not afraid of the government, let alone the Board of Directors. I'll need to look at something first, but I think he's an untouchable." He said, drawing on an unused term the SIGMAs had coined long ago. "And if Christopher McGraw is his friend, that option could potentially be even worse. We need to keep this in-house, need-to-know." He paused, "SIGMAs only." He finally turned his ancient gaze from the long-gone image of the Mysterious One and turned it then to the massive flagship, as it parked itself just a few kilometers from the Exclusion Zone and began flaring whatever thrusters were needed to keep it floating ominously above the black-site.

"Keeping this Spartans-only will only make the tension between us and the Board that much worse, John."

"But the possibility of letting that man know we're on to him would be worse than that. Especially if he is who I think he is. Besides, the Board is convinced we're on their side, and they're more worried about the UN than about the possibility of us calling Sixty Six." He shook his head, "let's go, we need to get to Sparta, speak to General Howe." He began the long walk to their shuttle bay, his HUD belatedly informing him that a dust storm was on its way.

Aboard the appropriately named 'Nomad', Christopher McGraw stood stoically in his bathroom, the steam from his shower still hanging thickly in the air and his skin still bright red from the heat of the water. He had his head pressed tightly against the warm glass of the single mirror in the room, contemplating the day's actions as he stared at his mottled reflection.

I've got to start the game, now. Thought McGraw, as a brief, but fiery lance of pain leapt up his nonexistent left arm. This was my last favor and he knows it. There is nothing left between the both of us except a vague understanding that someone has to make the first move... He stared unblinkingly at the steamy mirror so close to his face, his dark blue eyes taking in every detail of the largely detailless surface, noting how that, with every drop of water that slid down the glass, more of his mirror image came in to detail. The pawns go first. But he knows I've fired my first shots by so brazenly sending him to do this, I'm the one who made the first move. King's Pawn to E4. He visualized the board in his head, his shining white, marble pieces on the side closest to him, whilst his closest friend's jet black obsidian pieces stood so far away on the other side. But how will he respond? That determines the entire course of the game. Will he send a pawn to counter mine? Or will he break out a knight and try to take me out immediately? He shook his head and stood up straight, the mist was beginning to clear and his body was beginning to dry, he didn't try and brush his hair out of his eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid McGraw. I need to keep my pawns safe no matter what... I shouldn't have opened up so bravely, not against him. His response will determine the tone of the entire game. He sighed deeply and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Gladys, once we break warp in orbit of Elysium, send Jackie a message." He said to the steamy air.

"Is it about Edward, Mister McGraw?"

McGraw nodded solemnly, before he flipped a switch and his bathroom began drying off as quickly as his mind could solve a problem. "Tell him the Titanomachy has begun, and that he needs to stay as far away from it as possible." He sighed deeply, before he picked up his smile again, and reached for a brush, the last thought that ran through his head before he began brushing it would be a repeat of an earlier one. His response will determine the tone of the entire game.