HOLOCAUST

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR:

YOUNG ONES STAY BEHIND

July 28, 2186

1203 hours.

Main Bridge, Kilimanjaro-Class Dreadnought SSV McKinley HA-6, En Route for Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster.

The Reaper War.

Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett, Commander Ricky Landman.

"Bring her in, nice and steady. One half speed," Hackett ordered, watching as the McKinley, and the rest of task group Zealot, dropped out of FTL, small blinks of light as sixteen ships seemingly appeared out of nowhere, blue flashes dissipating into the black void of space. Hackett stood on the bridge of the McKinley, hands clasped behind his back as he watched through the viewscreen as their task group was greeted by the sight of Rannoch, an almost clear mirror image of Earth, orbitted by its four moons and the largest composition of ships the galaxy had ever seen. Hackett felt himself taking a deep breath at the sight of it all. Geth ships flying in formation, quarian vessels intermixed among them, while the large forms of liveships and dreadnoughts were almost picked out amongst the entanglement.

"The man never fails to impress, sir," his XO, Commander Ricky Landman, stated. The man was of brown hair, his eyes a bright hazel and skin of fair complexion. He was not a well built man, his shoulders of reasonable size, but his uniform seeming to hug the rest of his body quite tightly. His composure was not authoritarian, which likely contributed to his inability to reach or accept the rank of captain; Hackett knew the man had received numerous promotions, but he had turned down each and every one. Hackett told Landman he would have to move on eventually, but Ricky's response simply was, 'The McKinley is my home and will be for as long as it will have me.' Despite all of this, Landman never failed in his duty as an XO, and followed orders to the letter. He couldn't have asked for a more competent XO, "I'd say that spiderweb of ships over there is proof enough."

The man gets results. Its why he's in charge of this whole movement. Of the UGC. He's the only one capable of getting any of this done. Hackett nodded, noting Landman's observation, "Honestly, I never thought he'd top curing the genophage. Welcome to the next step of the UGC, Commander. This will be a huge boon for the UGC and the galaxy in general. We're creating a thunderstorm. We've got the clouds and the rain, here comes the thunder," he turned to his communications officer, nodding, "Contact the Marathon, tell them we've arrived." Hackett had made a heavy gamble sacrificing thirteen stealth frigates to Marcus' war effort, and he was glad it had paid off. Unfortunately, it was time to find out just how many stealth frigates they had left, and how many men.

Alot of troops were committed to this.

"Sir, we've established a line to the Marathon," his comms officer replied, "Patching him through, sir."

"This is Captain Carmine Del Toro of the SSV Marathon," the captain replied, an image of the Marathon's cockpit appearing in view, the captain standing in the middle of the main deck, "You sure took your time, Admiral. We were beginning to feel lonely with all these quarians and geth mingling about."

Lonely. Doesn't sound good. Hackett gave a quick nod, "It took time to round up the ships we could. You'd be surprised at how scarce they are these days." He wasn't wrong. The McKinley had brought twelve salarian Galisus-Class troop transports with them, along with four Warsaw-Class light frigates as escort, two flanking each side. The Warsaw-class frigates were very easy to acquire, as there were so many of them as to make four being used almost inconsequential; not to mention they were easy to replace. The transports however really took some pulling with the Union brass, but they eventually gave in when they found out said transports would be coming back with a surplus of fresh quarian and geth troops, and then some; no doubt the geth would want to use their own troop transports as well. Suffice to say, they were more than willing after finding out about that, "How many ships did we lose?"

Del Toro smiled, "Not a single one, Admiral. Even with the Reaper upgrades, the geth still couldn't see us with our stealth drives activated. The most heat we got was the Marathon taking on a geth cruiser...which we destroyed, mind you."

Hackett had to admit he was surprised at that, "And our ground forces?"

Del Toro's small vanished, "That...they were not as lucky. The 82nd Heavy Artillery Division got out untouched, but the entire 8th Blackwatch Company was wiped out, and the 7th Marines Battalion have sustained 94 percent casualties. The 45th Mechanized Regiment and 39th Mechanized Infantry Regiment sustained major casualties. The 7th Infiltration Company sustained minor losses, and the krogan lost about half their men. Lieutenant Colonel Cameron is KIA, and Major Chei Tou has taken command of what's left of his battalion. Colonel Durand is also down with severe injuries; the doctors say she will lose her entire right leg, and that a bullet has punctured her cheek; its not likely she will return to service for several months. Its a fairly grim picture, Admiral."

"Jesus Christ," he heard Landman almost whisper to himself.

Hackett nodded, "I will make sure the brass inform Cameron's family, as well as those of the men that were lost, of their deaths. As for the remainder...remind them of their comrade's sacrifice and tell them their deaths were not in vain. They died for the ultimate cause."

"A consolation they are apparently already telling each other, Admiral," Captain Del Toro countered, "But I will make sure its hammered in. If the UGC wishes us back, all thirteen ships, as well as the Course Divided, are ready to return to service."

Hackett nodded, "You are welcome back. We'll be sure to keep you busy, Captain Del Toro," after a moment, he spoke again, "Inform Captain Shepard that I will be docking with the Normandy very soon. I expect to see him immediately. We have much to discuss."

Captain Del Toro nodded, and then nodded to his comms officer, "I'll be sure to pass on the word, Admiral. Del Toro out." With that, the screen went blank again, switching back to the view before them. Hackett exhaled deeply, exchanging a glance with his XO as he retreated to his command chair, grasping the edges of it firmly in his grasp. Their casualties on the ground had been substantial, but their victory in the end had been absolute. Whatever the cost, it had been worth it. I just hope the rest of the UGC leadership agrees with that perspective. Many won't.

He removed his cap, scratching his scalp before allowing the cap to firmly rest on his head once more, turning to his navigation officer, "Navigation, what's our ETA to the Normandy?"

The navigation officer's response was quick and precise, "Seven minutes, Admiral."

He nodded, "Very good. Tell Lieutenant Ford to forego the usual marine escort. I won't be needing it."

Landman was quick to object, ever the man of protocol, "Sir, those regulations are there for a reason. Your safety is paramount."

Hackett sighed, rubbing his temples, "And how much danger do you think I'll be in on the Normandy? My safety will be absolute. Now, as I ordered, tell Ford and his men to stand down."

Landman exhaled deeply, but bit his lower lip, holding back any further objection he might have had, "Understood sir," he turned to the comms officer, "You heard the Admiral, comms. Relay the orders."

Hackett spent the next six minutes in complete silence, contemplating all that had happened so far, all they had done. What they'd accomplished, what they had lost. He remembered the losses they had suffered when the Reapers attacked Earth, how much the turians had lost at Palaven. Cerberus' movements and repeated attempts to halt their success. The construction of the Crucible. The curing of the genophage. The attempted coup on the Citadel and the death of Udina, a man he never liked to begin with. And now this. Ever since Marcus had left for Rannoch, Hackett had been left to effectively run the UGC and their military operations.

It hadn't been easy. The war had been taking its toll on the galactic economy since it began, but now it was only getting worse. With the Aethon cluster declared a mandatory exclusion zone and Irune effectively under Reaper control, the Vol Protectorate was in ruins and, as a result, the pillars of galactic commerce were beginning to crumble. The Citadel Stock Exchange had come close to collapsing just a few days ago, with spending reaching an all time high, but enough being returned to keep a balance. Military spending for all governments were through the roof, with an estimated 8 trillion credits spent on the Alliance military alone. Many industries, such as film, agriculture and retail, were entering their own miniture depressions, and Zakera Ward and Tayseri Ward were quickly becoming ghost towns with the amount of businesses simply packing up and leaving. The smarter ones left and moved to Shalta Ward, which was the most wealthy ward to begin with.

The volus were struggling to keep the economy on its feet, but the Reaper War simply wasn't allowing it. And with colony after colony falling...the UGC was going to have to resort to illegal collection of resources or wartime rationing to keep funds for the Crucible rolling. The only device that matters. Soon, we won't even have the money to replace the ships we lose...

The war itself wasn't doing any better either, but that didn't mean they had no victories. The Reapers had launched their first incursion into the Annos Basin on July 9. A small force; five destroyers and four Scarab-class carriers, launched an assault on Mannovai, where they attempted to quickly wipe out their comm buoy network before they could call for help. Unfortunately for the Reapers, the STG already had a plan in motion, Operation: Iron Curtain, where they had been preparing for Reaper invasion for over a month.

Because of this, early warning detection quantum nets had detected the Reaper advance from systems away, and allowed the Union to mobilize the Fifth and Ninth fleets in response to the threat. Also part of the plan was the installment of ground-based surface-to-orbit thanix cannons, which had an operational range of seven million kilometers. This, along with a field of thermonuclear mines that orbitted the planet, made a perfect defense. When the Reapers attempted to land, the initial ranks of mines destroyed four destroyers and one of the carriers. The thanix cannons opened fire and destroyed two more carriers, whilst the salarian fleets came in from behind and wiped out the remaining forces. The Battle of Mannovai, as it has become known, saw the first triumphant tactical engagement against Reaper forces. While Operation: Iron Curtain was initially classified to all but the highest of Union personnel, the STG were forced to disclose its existence after the battle, although the details were kept secret so as to not fall into the hands of the Reapers or Cerberus. But the salarians now knew the Reapers were coming, and the Reapers now knew what they faced; next time would be worse.

Elsewhere, Operation: Hornet's Nest was in full swing. Proposed and designed by the STG, SIA and ISP (Intelligence Services of Palaven), Operation: Hornet's Nest was a plan to implement cyberwarfare, guerilla warfare tactics and surgical deployment in concentrated doses to devastate Reaper conversion centers, limit the amount of troops they can produce, as well as to destroy Reapers using a range of means including smuggling nuclear or antimatter warheads on board stationary Reaper vessels (codenamed Operation: Hardlight), liberating or bombing conversion centers (Operation: Mercury) and luring Reaper forces into traps in small numbers where they can be picked off (Operation: Byzantium). Overall, the operation was proving to be a success, as the ultimate goal wasn't to inflict major losses on the Reapers, only to hamper their progress; it was a delaying action, nothing more.

To top it off, Anderson had contacted Hackett from Earth using the QEC device he found to tell him the resistance was uniting and converging on London; apparently Harbinger was present, and wherever that Reaper was, things were going down. Anderson said they would set up a network of operating bases in and around London where they would bunker down until reinforcements from the UGC arrived with the Crucible. Which, at this point, seemed to be an eternity away.

Having geth will certainly speed up the process, however...

"Sir," his navigation officer spoke, breaking through his thoughts, "We're one minute out. Captain Shepard said he's expecting you."

Excellent. "Understood. I will head for the airlock. Commander Landman, you have the deck," he stood up and quickly saluted the commander, of which Landman replied in kind. With those formalities addressed, he turned on the spot and left the bridge, approaching the airlock quickly and quietly, attempting to remain out of the way of all the crew members moving about the corridors. They saluted him as they walked by, and instead of returning said salutes, he merely nodded, moving with his hands clasped behind his back. He walked past a pair of engineers crouched before a open piece of wall, the panelling that covered it resting on the wall beside them as they used their omni-tools to run their maintenance. He paid them no mind, allowing them to carry on with their duty, this time saluting properly as a sextet of marines, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts, a thin sweatshirt and a simple regulation SAMC cap, ran by, their sergeant chanting to them as they jogged, likely running their usual drill. As the sergeant ran by, he saluted, before continuing his chant, "And when I die, don't lie on me. Pick up my rifle and fire some for me." He smiled as the marines repeated the chant, their shouts dissipating as they got further away.

He finally reached the airlock, feeling the ship shudder slightly as it connected to the Normandy. The ship's VI, Eastwood, spoke, its dull monotone announcing their arrival, "Docking process...complete. The commanding officer stands relieved. XO Landman has the deck." Hackett stood into the airlock, waiting for the decontamination process to complete, thoughts ticking through his mind.

We're working this man over the clock, but he never complains. The SAMC could do with more marines like that.

Finally, the decon process finished, and the opposite airlock opened, and Hackett stepped through.

Greeting him was not an unpleasant sight, but not one he expected. Infront was Shepard himself, the man dressed in the Alliance regs he seems intent on never wearing, the rank of captain stamped into the left breast and shoulders of the uniform. The man had shaved recently, with his beard shortened to mere heavy stubble. Hackett would have commented on how his beard wasn't in line with military regulations, but given how much the man had done? He wasn't going to chastize him on a beard that was a few inches too long. As for everything else, the man looked like he had showered recently, with his hair glistening with the glow of hair that was still damp. Upon seeing Hackett, he stamped his foot, and saluted, "Admiral on deck!"

More foot stomps, and Hackett turned to see Keeling, James, Kaidan, Cortez, Traynor and the rest of the ship's CIC crew salute back, all of them lined along the flight deck. Hackett returned to the salute, before addressing the other people in the room.

He had been hoping to speak with them, but he didn't think the Admiralty Board would be present. Standing on the far left was Admiral Han'Gerrel, the man's posture similar to Hackett's own, and favoured, currently. He met Hackett's gaze and nodded, and Hackett immediately knew this quarian to be the leader of the Heavy Fleet...and the man responsible for pissing off many turian prefects. The turians are not a fan of this man, but I can at least respect a fellow admiral.

Next to him, on his right, was Admiral Zaal'Koris, the man adopting a similar position as Gerrel, but not as much emphasis placed on it. His head was held high though, and his chest was pumped out in a gesture Hackett could only describe as pride. Beside Koris was Admiral Shala'Raan, the female dwarfed in comparison to her male counterparts, but every bit imposing as a presence; she nodded at Hackett, but otherwise let her hands hang at her sides, alot less formal than her other counterparts. And beside her, finally, was Admiral Tali'Shepard, and member of Marcus' squad, who had hands clasped behind her back just like Koris and Gerrel, adopting the formal posture of her two compatriots. Oddly enough, Admiral Daro'Xen was not present.

And finally, to Tali's immediate right, two geth troopers: one with a white chasis and another with a black chasis. Neither of them he identified, although he knew they were the geth representatives almost immediately. Hard to imagine another reason why they're here.

Hackett moved forward, holding out his hand as he accepted Marcus', shaking it firmly, "Captain. I wasn't expecting the full greeting party. You needn't have bothered."

Marcus just shrugged, pulling his hand back, "You still outrank me, Admiral. The formality was a necessity on my part. As for our accompaniment..." he turned to motion to the admirals and geth before them, before he turned his head to face Hackett once more, "You'll be happy to know the Conclave passed the vote. It was a 9:1 vote. Close to unanimous. The Rannochian Coalition is officially a reality, and the quarians and geth are ready to join the UGC and fight the Reapers."

"The Rannochian Coalition?" Hackett asked, raising an eyebrow, "I gather that's what you've chosen to name this alliance. Appears fitting."

Koris was next to step in, "We have not met before, Admiral Hackett. I am Admiral Koris," he held out his hand, and Hackett shook it, "I was the former admiral of the Civilian Fleet and now, thanks to Admiral Shepard, a Fleet Admiral in the navy of Rannoch. Gathering that we will likely be talking battle tactics, I see it only fair we get acquainted."

Hackett nodded, "So I assume you've already decided what forces you'll be devoting?"

Gerrel scoffed, gathering the attention of all those in the room, "We're sending in every military asset we have. Civilians who do not wish to fight will be left on Rannoch to help begin settlement where they can remain safe and look after our children, while those who wish to fight and are already in the military, will join the war. The geth are already working with us to prepare all our ships for combat. As of now, the Migrant Fleet is no more. The Rannochian Coalition Armed Forces is its new name; and the geth are part of it."

The white geth spoke up, nodding, "Creator Han'Gerrel is correct. With old greviances settled, we are ready to mobilize. All geth platforms are equipped for combat, but we will leave two million behind to help the creators with reconstruction efforts. The rest of our troops will join the UGC."

Hackett nodded, "And how many troops are we talking?"

Gerrel butted in, talking, "We have a force of around one million marines, and that's not including any new recruits. You already know our fleet strength; we'll have 48,000 warships by the end of next month if we keep working at the rate we're going. As for the geth..."

The black geth finished for him, "...we can have six billion troops assembled and ready for deployment within the first month. The other five in the months following."

Hackett exhaled at those numbers. That's...eleven billion troops in total. Twelve, if you count what the quarians have. And combine the geth and quarian fleets...that's over seventy thousand ships. Christ...he turned to Marcus, who nodded at him with a grin, knowing full well what Hackett's reaction would be. Hackett couldn't help but smile back. Before, the Reapers had the advantage of awe-inducing numbers. They had hundreds of thousands ships and billions of troops...now we have the scare factor...

"Those are some big numbers," Hackett finally replied, wrapping his head around what he had just heard, "I think that'll be more than enough to give the Reapers pause. Before, they'd always had the advantage of more troops. Not only have we got the rachni and krogan, but now we've got billions of geth and a million quarian engineers to bolster that."

Gerrel seemed surprised by that, "Rachni? Aren't they extinct?"

Marcus rubbed the back of his head, "Just another major historical change on my list of historical changes."

Raan chuckled, crossing her arms, "From the sounds of it captain, you've been more than busy. You should be careful how many changes you make; next you'll be resurrecting the protheans."

"Technically I already did that," Marcus scoffed, shaking his head as he turned back to Hackett. He noticed the lopsided grin on his face, how much more relaxed the man had looked. Before his last transmission to Hackett prior to him entering the Veil, Marcus had looked like a wreck on the verge of collapse. Now he looked revitalized, a changed man. His demeanour has improved. I have no doubt it has everything to do with a certain quarian.

Marcus spoke again, motioning to Gerrel and Koris, "Admiral Hackett, these two men will be your friends on the battlefield from now on," he then pointed to the black geth, who had now joined them, "As will our geth friend here."

"Greetings, Hackett-Admiral," the geth greeted him, and Hackett, quite awkwardly, shook his hand, "I am Themistocles. I will be the admiral in command of the geth navy and our troops on the ground. I will be working alongside Admirals Gerrel and Koris."

Marcus nodded, motioning to the former Heavy Fleet commander, "Gerrel has been nominated as the supreme commander of the quarian military, while Koris will work under him as Fleet Admiral of the new Fleet of Tikkun. As supreme commander, Gerrel will act as the representative for the quarians in the UGC in a military capacity, while Koris will represent them in an official capacity. Obviously, a geth will be present to represent the geth on the UGC as well."

Hackett nodded to the white geth, who now approached upon their prompting to do so, "I'm guessing that will be you."

To his surprise, the geth shook its head, "I am Caesar, chosen leader of the geth. However, I will be remaining on Rannoch to coordinate with the Conclave on the resettlement process. However, the platform known as Aristotle has been chosen by the consensus to represent the geth in your UGC. He will transfer to your vessel within the next solar day."

Themistocles. Caesar. Aristotle. Should I be afraid that geth have taken an interest in human history? Oh well, at least they chose fitting names. A greek general. A roman general. A greek philosopher. All fitting enough.

Hackett nodded, "I understand, Caesar. The UGC will welcome Aristotle into their ranks with open arms, as will they the quarians. Your entrance into this war is timely, but in a dire period. Despite our new alliances, we are only losing ground more slowly. Completion of the Crucible is key to winning this conflict," he turned to them all, "How many engineers are you willing to commit?"

Tali spoke this time, her arms now crossed, "Our Special Projects fleet represent the most brilliant and technologically savvy scientists the quarian people have to offer. It has been decided that they and all their resources will be committed solely to the Crucible, with Admiral Xen maintaining her command over them."

Hackett was surprised by that, "As valuable as Admiral Xen's knowledge would be, she is indeed an admiral. I would have thought she would be needed on the battlefield, not the lab."

Gerrel shook his head, "Xen was never a tactician or a soldier. She is a scientist, first and foremost. While eccentric and often erratic, she is undoubtably brilliant. Her expertise helped us develop the weapons we needed to invade Rannoch and, while they were ultimately wrong, it cannot be denied they were effective. Her involvement in the Crucible project, as well as having access to her best scientists, will not be a decision you'll regret making," he shrugged, "Another bonus for us is that she is mostly kept away from Rannoch and any major involvement with the geth. She was...one of the few minority that disagreed with the coalition."

"Believe me admiral, she is better off on the Crucible, far from the main war effort," Tali declared, drawing his attention to her, "Any problems she has with the geth will be more isolated and less likely to impact any military operations."

Hackett nodded, "From what I've heard of this Admiral Xen, I think the decision you've made is for the best," he looked around the room one more time, making sure he hadn't simply missed her. Turning back, assured his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, he frowned, "Where is Admiral Xen?"

Raan spoke this time before Tali could respond, "Our first meeting with the geth on neutral ground started out on the wrong foot. Suffice to say, Xen did not endorse or approve of an alliance with the geth. As a result, we deemed it necessary to bar her from any further exchanges with the geth so as to not damage relations between our peoples. She has been informed of our decision and, despite her disagreement with it, she is currently finishing preparations with the Special Projects fleet. They should be prepared to leave with you shortly at the earliest convenience."

Caesar's headflaps twitched and moved in tandem as it prepared its own statement, "As for the geth, we are prepared to send every engineer we have available to work on the Crucible project. While we will need assurance that Admiral Xen will not attempt to capture one of our platforms for her experimentation, we have no qualms about assisting the Crucible. We understand that Admiral Xen's actions only represent a minority of the full quarian people, and will not make generalized judgments based on this minority movement."

Hackett nodded, "I can arrange for you to both work in isolated environments, if that assuages any concerns you have, Caesar."

The geth nodded, headflaps coming to rest as they clicked into place, "The geth find this acceptable, Hackett-Admiral."

Hackett took a deep breath, and turned to Marcus, exhaling slightly, "There is alot of preparations to be made captain, and I'm sure you're aware the war is growing ever more dire every day."

Marcus nodded in understanding, licking his lips, "Believe me admiral, this is a game changer. This can really change the tide."

"We'll give the Reapers everything we've got," Tali backed up, "No more, no less. Our people have our homeworld back and a friendship with the geth we will not allow to become compromise. We will crush the Reapers."

Caesar nodded, "The Old Machines are a threat to all life in the galaxy. They are a parasitic entity that desires nothing but destruction and only generates hate. These values conflict with those of the geth. We will build our own future, and we will not allow our newfound individuality to be destroyed by those who used us for their own ends. The Old Machines deserve only one fate: complete destruction. We will not allow our future to end like this."

Gerrel nodded, "Caesar put it perfectly. Any weapons we have, any ships, any troops, any resources...they're the UGC's to use."

Hackett couldn't help but let out a chuckle, nodding, "Then welcome to the war, admirals."

You're late, but there's still some seats left. Front row, too.

{Loading...}

July 28, 2186

1649 hours.

The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster.

The Reaper War.

Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Junior.

It had all come full circle. The quarian exodus was finally over, and hostilities between the geth and quarians had come to a close. The hatred and animosity between the two groups had faded into history. The bitter rivalry concluded by unexpected revelations. Legion, his friend, had sacrificed his life to bring individuality to all geth. Tali had risen from a pilgrim to an admiral in the span of three years. Geth, of who he had fought on Eden Prime and had been his first enemies in his gruelling 'Reaper Campaign', were now his allies. Everything that could have gone wrong, did and didn't. Peta, a man of who Marcus had once despised, now his slight respect for what he attempted to do back on Rannoch. Now he rested on Rannoch's surface, near the peak of a mountain, where he belonged.

It all seemed like a dream he wasn't part of. Like he was watching scenes from some over-the-top Hollywood movie, or at the controls of some science fiction RPG video game. None of this seemed like he was doing it. Not just the reclamation of Rannoch, or the 'Reclamation', as the Rannochian Coalition was now calling it, but everything before it as well. Curing the genophage. Saving the Citadel. Watching Earth fall. Blowing up the Bahak system. Storming and killing the Shadow Broker. Marrying a beautiful alien woman who had somehow fallen in love with some stupid fuck with a death wish. His resurrection. Allying with a terrorist group to save the galaxy. Hell, just the words 'save the galaxy' had fallen into the realms of media convention known as 'cheesy.' He wouldn't even be surprised if he woke up and realized he was sitting at a computer, writing some Star Wars fanfiction or something.

But no. It was all real. It was hard to come to terms with that, and he imagined many others thought the same. He really had done all of that. The good, and the bad. The ugly, and the uglier. The fantastic, and the best. He really had fought geth. He really had taken down the Council's best spectre. He really had uncovered a billion year old genocidal secret. He really had taken on a Reaper on foot. He really had been brought back to life, and he really was in charge of a galactic war effort. All of it was happening, right now.

But despite all that, there was still one concept he found nearly impossible to grasp.

He was a father.

"Careful, Mark," Tali chastized, Marcus looking up from the son he cradled in his arms to see his quarian engineer putting the finishing touches on her suit. Kasumi had somehow managed to get them to allow her of all people to babysit Junior, which she said would give them time to 'basically just do it like a couple of rabbits.' Despite their objections to the contrary, they really had ended up doing just that. Four times, in fact. He hurt all over because of it, but holy shit, it was certainly worth it.

He smiled warmly at her, looking back down at his son as he continued to feed him. A small bottle of milk was almost plastered between the boy's lips, sucking on the teat at the end. Tali had tried to insist on breastfeeding, but Marcus had objected due to the huge amounts of stress they had been going through, and that simple bottled milk would do until they got more time to tend to their child. Tali still wasn't happy about it, as apparently the prospect of being a mother had implied, but she had accepted his point.

"I still can't believe this little bundle of spasticity is our kid," Marcus chuckled, not turning to watch as Tali put her mask back in place and joined him on the couch, sitting on his left, her hand reaching up to stroke Junior's scalp. There was a goofy smile on Junior's face, not quite a grin, but close enough. He was adorable.

"Wow, Mark," Tali mockingly exasperated, "Already calling our child a spastic. Must do wonders for his self-esteem."

He shrugged, grinning back at her, "Well, if anyone were to ask you, being a spastic is good. He's taking after his father."

Tali chortled, holding her mouth piece to contain her laughter, but failing, "Ain't that the truth."

"If this little guy is anything like me when I was young, he'll be climbing trees by the time he's five," Mark joked. Tali looked at him, confused. Noticing her confusion, he corrected himself, "Well...attempting to climb trees. Let's just say, more often than not, I ended up returning to the ship either bruised or dirty. My mother loved me, that's for sure."

"He said with utmost sarcasm," she added with air quotes, shaking her head, "If I have anything to say about it, he won't be climbing trees until he's 15. It's dangerous."

He creased his lips in disagreement, stroking his son's right cheek, "Nothing wrong with some adventurous spirit. Call me old, but when you're young and full of energy, its best to harness that before you age too much. You only have that youth for so long," this time he grinned, looking up at her with a glint in his eyes, "Besides, I'd be more worried about the girls..."

Tali sighed, shaking her head, "Puberty. That'll be fun."

He let out a single, loud bellow, his chest shaking with the single laugh, "I can already see it. Let it be known, Tali, that our son will not find himself many rejections. If anything, he'll have alot of rejecting to do himself."

She slapped his shoulder, laughing herself, "Like father, like son."

"Hey, in my defense," he pointed at her, "Liara was...I don't know, she was pretty insistent. And Ashley...I'm not sure her first interest was Kaidan. If my son ever has to deal with that...I'll be there to pull him out of the fire. You women can get feisty."

"Fear us," Tali mockingly warned, "Don't get married, because we'll take all your money and make your life a living hell. Sound about right?"

He leaned in closer, smirking, "Didn't know you could prophecize the future, Tali."

She leaned in even closer, mask tapping his forehead, "Careful, Mark. I might just take your model ships away for a month, or worse yet...sell them on the extranet."

He pulled back, grin disappearing as he frowned, "Wait...you're serious?"

Tali nodded, crossing her arms as she kicked her feet up, hands behind her head, a subtle grin behind her mask, "Deadly serious. Its that, or you get confined to the couch for a whole month...that, and it'll be your duty to calm him down when he cries at night...for a whole month. Shall I continue?"

He pretended to look shocked, looking back down at Junior, creasing his lips, "Your mother's the devil, Junior."

The baby's response was a gurgle; he wanted more milk.

He sighed, feeding the teat back into his mouth, "Well, you don't want much, do you, Junior? Just milk. Nothing but milk. No responsibilities but...drinking milk. You lucky bugger."

Tali laughed, "Perhaps he'll need a bodyguard to keep all the girls away."

He looked at her, shrugging, "Yeah, I should think Moses will suffice."

A loud sigh could be heard, and he looked up at her, the quarian shaking her head as she held her mask in one hand, "I still can't get over Moses declaring himself my bodyguard. I don't mind him as an ally, but to devote himself to my protection? I don't think I really want that much attention."

Marcus pretended to ponder, thinking through what she said, before looking at her, "I don't know, our son having a geth prime for a bodyguard would be pretty cool. A geth butler, of sorts. Like Alfred Pennyworth."

Tali frowned, "An Alfred...what?"

He exhaled, scratching his head, "Forget it. Just think our son going to school on the back of a geth prime would be pretty freakin' cool, that's all."

She rolls her eyes, standing up as she heads over to the bed to put her boots on, "You're such...a guy."

"Discovery of my day," he dryly replied, sighing in relief as Junior finally drifted off to sleep, the man removing the bottle from his lips and placing it on the table beside them, "One day, Junior will be just a guy too."

Tali's reply was a mere mumble, her voice lowered and no longer as jovial as it had been. The mere sound of it caused him to look up, the smile slowly vanishing from his face, "Yeah, one day..."

She was standing in the middle of the room, her boots back on her feet, but her head lowered so as to be looking away from him and at the ground, arms crossed but not firmly; a clear sign that she was troubled.

He knew immediately what it was, and sagged alittle himself. He stood up, Junior having drifted off to sleep, and lightly placed him in the crib next to their bed. Making sure the child stayed asleep, he moved back over to Tali and hugged her, "I know it's going to be hard, but you know it has to be done. He can't come with us."

She nodded, arms reaching up to wrap around his own body, head tucked into his shoulder, "I know. But you only just found out he existed, and now you're leaving again..."

"It's better off this way," he declared, "It would be foolhardy to attempt to bring him with us. The life we lead...the war...it's too dangerous to be bringing up a baby on a warship. He has to remain here...where it's safe."

They had reached the decision themselves three days ago; they decided to do it on the day they left. It had not been an easy decision; Tali herself had brought it up, saying she had pondered on the idea for many days beforehand and had decided that it was the best option. Junior was just a child, and unlike the two of them, could not defend himself if the time came. If Marcus needed Tali to help him, they couldn't waste time worrying about their child, especially during a life-or-death combat situation. It was simply too risky, and the requirements of being a parent would eventually conflict with the requirements of being a soldier.

Marcus had been reluctant, but eventually saw her side. To tell the truth, he saw her side immediately, but had wanted to explore every other option beforehand. Like she said, he had only just found out he had a son; now he was leaving once more, and likely for much longer. He probably wouldn't see his son for another few months. And with the war going on...it was a possibility, although one he hated to think about, that he would never even see his son again. That neither of them would.

Eventually, the decision was made: Junior would be left behind on Rannoch, where it was safe, where he would be taken care of by a quarian they trusted. Marcus had suggested letting a geth take care of him, but Tali had laughed the idea out the window, stating that Junior needed a mother's care, something the geth, no matter how fully evolved an AI they are, cannot provide. He quickly conceded her point, and even laughed at the idea himself and how he could possibly have even considered it.

Calls were made, investigations done. In the end, it was discovered that Shala'Raan would not be leaving with Hackett's force; Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris would command their military forces, and Daro'Xen would head the quarian engineering team on the Crucible, but Shala would remain on Rannoch to help coordinate the resettlement efforts. She had argued that she was no combat specialist, and that her tactical ability was inept compared to Koris and Gerrel; and, compared to Xen, Shala was about as incapable an engineer as a vorcha. However, Shala was a good diplomat and mediator, and she also had experience in growing crops, as Clan Raan was, after all, famous for the creation of the nutrient vats initially used on the liveships in the early days of the Migrant Fleet. Because of this, Shala was a perfect candidate for leading people alongside Makk into resettling Rannoch, as well as maintaining the new, but still shaky, relationship with the geth. And she was a good motherly figure, which Tali could vouch for. In the end, it was an easy decision, and Shala was more than willing to take up the task, understanding their reasons for it.

"Just..." she began to argue again; not so much an attempt to find an excuse to keep Junior onboard, but more of a subtle rant to let her vent her frustration, "...what if something happens to him and we're too far away to help?"

He shook his head, pulling away from the hug as he held her at arm's length, "Tali, do you honestly think that would happen? Shala has a lot of experience with raising a child, and there are many quarian doctors who could help out if any medical conditions arise. That, and being surrounded by millions of combat-capable geth...I'd say Junior's in good hands. Better off than he would be remaining on the Normandy."

Tali just slacked, nodding as her shoulders lowered, looking up at him, "I know. Keelah, of course I know. I'm just being an idiot. I just...he's my son, Mark. Our son. If anything happened to him...I wouldn't forgive myself."

"I know," he sighed, a quick peck on top of her visor before embracing her again, "Which is why we're leaving him here. You know it's for the best. The war is just too dangerous to raise a child in. Besides, would he not enjoy his childhood more on Rannoch in a peaceful environment than he would being raised on a warship that's in constant danger?"

She nodded, signalling for him to let go. Once he had, she moved over to the bed, gripping its edge as she looked down on their child. He could hear her sniffling, and he knew immediately what was about to follow. He walked over and squeezed her shoulder, and her left hand immediately shot up to grasp it, her sniffling becoming choked weeping, "He's so...small. And...precious. And...he's ours. Our blood. And we're leaving him behind..."

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in. She accepted the movement, and tucked her mask into his chest, letting it all out; the tears flowed forth, and she wailed into his chest, venting. He simply nodded, right hand moving up to cradle the back of her head as he simply held her there, letting her cry while silently listening to it all. She cried for minutes on end, but he just continued to stand there, understanding her need to vent; that she needed to let it all out. Again, it was no easy decision they had made, and they had done it with a heavy heart and a reluctant shake of the head. Junior was their son; but they were also his parents. It was their duty to protect him, and if that meant leaving him in the arms of Shala so they could win him a better future, then it was a price they were willing to pay. Didn't make it easy, though.

Out of all the things I've had to do, this is probably the hardest. Goddamn this war.

Over an hour later, and they were ready. Tali, with child in her arms and Marcus, with all the essential items in one bag slung over his shoulder, descended in the elevator. There was nothing but silence between the two of them, both just appreciating the other's presence, and knowing that if they needed to hang onto each other, they were there. For Tali though, all tears had been shed, and she was ready to do what she thought possible. To leave her baby behind.

Young ones stay behind, Marcus mused.

For once, they were both thankful for the ludicrously slow speed of the elevator. In just over a minute, the elevator had arrived on the CIC deck, and they stepped out. The first people to greet them where Samantha and Kelly, both of them working at Samantha's terminal at the rear of the galaxy map. Both of them turned upon hearing the elevator doors opened, and Kelly was the first to notice the baby Tali held in her arms.

In a typical, girly fashion, Kelly almost squealed, and was there in an instant, eyes wide as she 'appreciated' Junior's appearance, "Ooooooohhh...he's so cute!"

Samantha nodded, leaning against the console with crossed arms, a smirk tugging at her lips, "Kelly's a sucker for babes, apparently."

Kelly grinned, smiling warmly at Samantha, "Young and the beautiful, Miss Traynor."

Marcus did not fail to notice Samantha's blush, and rolled his eyes, "Knock it off, you two. Not in front of our kid."

Kelly giggled, stroking Junior's face, "What, afraid we'll teach your son a thing or two?"

Marcus chuckled, "I have no doubt of the horrors he'll face having you as family, Kelly. You'll probably visit...what? Twice a day?"

"Only twice?" she retorted, snorting, "At least five. He's so adorable! Junior's his name, isn't it?" she aimed the question at Tali.

The quarian nodded, managing a smile of her own, "Yes. No. Well, for now it is, yeah."

Kelly turned back to Junior, smiling, "Hey, kiddo! I'm your auntie! Well, one of your aunties! Pretty cool, huh? Aunt Kelly! Ooooohhh...I like the sound of that. Sounds better than Aunt Chambers, at least."

Samantha laughed, "Already an aunt? Self-proclaimed one, too," she turned to Marcus, still smirking, "Watch out, captain. Next she'll be the mum."

Kelly wagged her finger at the yeoman, "Enough of that, Sam. I have no intention of stealing children. I'd prefer to...politely influence them to accept me. Through toys...lots of toys. And possibly some clothes. I might even buy him a cat, if he's lucky! I love cats!"

Marcus cringed, "I hate cats. Selfish creatures. Get him a dog; they're loyal and provide companionship. All a cat will do is demand a bed rest."

"Hey, you leave cats alone!" Kelly frowned, crossing her arms, "Besides...cats aren't selfish."

"That's what they want you to think. Trust me, once you've served your usefulness, they'll move on," Marcus retorted.

Tali spoke up, her tone not as jovial, but still not as glum as she had been before, "Well, we'd better get moving...don't want to keep Shala waiting."

"Oh, of course. I didn't mean to keep ya," Kelly apologized, backing into the console, "Besides, I'm sure Shala would like to-" To distract Kelly and allow Marcus and Tali a quick escape from the baby enthusiast, Samantha jabbed her hands into Kelly's side, causing her to let out a loud chorus of laughs. A few officers on the CIC looked up with frowns on their faces, not at all amused. Kelly didn't care however, continuing to laugh as Samantha tickled her, pinning her against the console so she couldn't escape.

"S-ss-Sam! S-s-stop! O-oh-oh my God! Stop it!" Despite her objections, she continued to giggle and laugh as Samantha's hands assaulted her ticklish waist area, much to the irritation of the officers on the deck. Marcus just shook his head as he motioned for Tali to follow, who had managed a genuine laugh at the display. Once the two had reached the flight deck, she spoke again.

"I didn't know those two were in a relationship," Tali pointed out.

He shrugged, "With this ship, anything's possible. Besides Samantha was pretty clear of her...orientation. And considering Kelly's openness about her...activities in the past...I'm not at all surprised those two hooked up. Besides, its good for Kelly. Helps her forget her ordeal on the Collector Base."

Tali nodded, "I guess. We could all do with some happy moments."

They spotted Shala immediately. She was in the cockpit, standing behind Joker's seat with her arms crossed, apparently listening to a conversation between the pilot and Cortez, which seemed to be getting very animated. As they got closer, they could pick out bits of the conversation.

"...James piloting the Normandy? We wouldn't get past drydock."

Cortez chuckled, his own arms crossed, but now uncrossing as he waved his arms in the air, mimicking what it would like if the situation actually occurred, "Yeah. The Normandy would meet the planet surface faster than you can say 'who let the grizzly bear drive'?"

Joker shook his head, "Even Wrex drove a shuttle better than him. A krogan. James pilots worse than Marcus in a Mako."

"I heard that, loud and clear, Joker," Marcus announced, drawing the attention of all three as he entered the cockpit, Joker turning around in his seat. EDI was sitting in the seat beside him as usual, but made no movements to address them, clearly focused on something, "And I resent that."

Joker held up his hands mockingly, "Oops, you got me. I messed up, I admit. Just don't make me ride in a Mako with you."

"If my driving is so bad, perhaps the whole crew can try driving it and see how easily they criticize me," he drawled before quickly moving on from their conversation, "Besides, me and Tali aren't the inquisition Joker; we're not here for you."

"You're not?" Joker asked innocently, and when Marcus shook his head, he frowned, pouting, "Oh, and I thought I was special. So my dreams are dashed...once again. At least Cortez will keep me company."

Cortez sighed, checking the chrono on his omni-tool before shaking his head, "Unfortunately, neither can I. My next shift starts in a minute, and I've got to run some maintenance on the shuttle," he turned and nodded to Marcus, before turning and walking down the flight deck. Joker sagged in his seat, lazily waving at the screens before him. Marcus smiled, before turning to Shala.

Shala turned to face him as well, nodding at him, "Marcus. Tali. I was just waiting for you two to come down with Junior. You took slightly longer than I expected, so I decided to join their conversation."

"We understand," Tali spoke up, rocking their baby back and forth gently, their son remaining asleep, "We...well, this was harder than we thought it would be, and we needed time to adjust."

Shala sighed, reaching out a hand and grasping Tali's shoulder, "This is your first child, Tali, but a mother's instinct is paramount no matter what. I can understand your urge to stick by your child's side, but I also understand your need to be by your husband's side; after all, if this war is lost, it won't matter whether your baby is fine or not; he soon wouldn't be," she looked down at the child in Tali's arms. She looked back up at Marcus, whose expression had become stone. No weakness. We made this decision, we must stick to it. No going back.

Shala looked between the two, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't keep it a secret from her, and she was able to easily pick up on their indecisiveness, "If you two aren't ready, I can give you more time to come to a decision..."

He shook his head, feeling his eyes water up slightly. He gulped, holding back any tears as he shook his head, a bit too frantically to be outwardly genuine, "No, its okay Shala. Besides...if we had anymore time to think...we might make a decision we'll end up regretting. We don't want to be the parents who lost our first kid due to stupidity."

Shala nodded, turning back to Tali, "Do you agree with this, Tali? As the mother, your word means alot."

His wife nodded, "It...has to be done. As difficult as it may be...we have to let go, even if only for a while..."

His adoptive aunt nodded, before turning and walking forward, her arms open, "Well, then this means goodbye. You already know of my decision to remain on Rannoch."

He sighed, moving forward and embracing the elder quarian. The hugged briefly before breaking apart, Shala holding him at arm's length. He spoke, smiling slightly, although he didn't feel any of the effects that should have come with such an expression, "We know. We wish you luck with the reconstruction efforts. And before you ask...I'll take care of Tali, just as she'll take care of me. Two halves make up the whole, remember?"

Shala laughed slightly, a sound that was still as alien to him as she was in actuality, "Indeed they do, Marcus. I understand all too easily what you mean," there was a moment of sadness, likely remembering her deceased husband, before she straightened again, letting go of Marcus as she turned to her niece, hesitating for a moment. Frowning, Marcus turned to see the source of Shala's issue; Tali was standing still, not looking at either of them, simply looking down at Junior, unmoving. She did this for several more moments, not acknowledging either of them.

Before Marcus could step in, Shala made her move, motioning her arms so that Tali looked up. She did so, meeting Shala's eyes. He simply watched in calm solemnity as Shala nodded to the young quarian, his wife nodding back as she slowly, but surely, reached out and extended her arms, the baby moving out with them. Gently and with extreme care, Shala pulled the baby out from Tali's open arms and pulled him into her own, hugging him closely to her chest.

Tali let her arms fall and stepped back towards Marcus, ever silent. He didn't say anything, he too remaining silent as Tali backed into him, his left arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her in, offering the comfort of his embrace. Shala gently rocked the baby in her arms, testing the waters as she looked down at the child to guage any kind of reaction.

Junior never woke up or registered any change of holder.

Content that Junior was asleep, Shala looked up, glance moving between the two, before she nodded, "I...this is goodbye, then," she looked back to Tali, "Tali, my child. You have grown up so much, developed so much. You...have made me so proud, and now you're a mother," there was evidence of Shala tearing up herself, before she simply nodded it away, "It was a pleasure being your aunt, and I wish you luck on the road ahead. Please...be safe," she motioned to the baby in her arms, a smile behind her mask, "You have a child to come back to now. A child who needs you. Win this war and come back, for his sake."

The two parents simply nodded, before Tali spoke again, "I will miss you, Shala. I...we can't promise we'll be safe, but we will certainly promise to make every effort to come back, no matter what it takes. We will...we will see our son again, we swear it by the ancestors."

"Do not swear to me, Tali," Shala stated firmly, "Swear to Junior."

"I swear it, son," she stated after some hesitation, a noticable gulp preceeding her next words, succeeded by a sniffle, "I swear it on my life, by the ancestors and the homeworld we have seen today. Your parents will return home and we'll be one happy family."

Shala gave a quick nod, "Then farewell, Tali'Shepard vas Normandy. Marcus'Shepard vas Normandy. Safe tidings preceed you both, and may the stars grant you safe passage in these times of strife and endless misery."

They held their hands up in a frozen wave, their faces frozen with sadness, but ultimately conviction that they had done was the right thing. No matter what, what we did? It was...necessary. It was the right thing to do.

Shala turned, beginning to walk into the airlock, but was stopped as Tali suddenly called out, shattering her long silence, "Goodbye, Junior!" The sound was choked and garbled, the quarian obviously holding back the urge to cry again.

He smiled warmly at her, looking up to see Shala stop, turning back towards them. Afterwards, she turned away slowly, letting the two of them see Junior for as long as possible before the two of them disappeared behind the airlock, EDI announcing the decontamination cycle as the two crossed from the Normandy to the quarian ship they were docked with.

They were both still and silent for a few moments, before shaken by Joker's voice suddenly speaking up, "You guys alright?"

He shook his head, turning to see Joker had rotated the seat to face them, his arms resting on the arm rests as he looked at them. He nodded to the pilot, "We'll...be fine, Joker. We just need time to adjust. But thanks for asking."

Joker just tipped his cap, nodding, "Before you ask, EDI just ran the decon process in your cabin and cleared your schedule for the rest of the day. Take the day off, Marcus. The Normandy can look after itself for now."

Marcus nodded, "Thank you, both of you."

Without hesitation, he gently guided Tali down the flight deck towards the elevator, where they could both let go of their stress and focus on what mattered: wiping out the Reapers and returning home to their son. In the end, that's all that mattered at this point.

That's right. Coping mechanisms. Calm thoughts. Think of the happy future we'll soon have together...the family we'll raise...

A/N:

Technically speaking, I said there wouldn't LIKELY be frequent updates...

Anyway, this OFFICIALLY wraps up the quarian-geth arc. I'm not really happy how I ended the chapter, but in the end, I couldn't get it to work any other way. I'm not a fantastic writer of emotion. I convey my anger through blood, guts and dead stereotypical british villains have had their heads bashed in after a particularly nasty, but well thought out, monologue. Dark, grimy and bitter nightmares help me convey terror. But trying to convey the emotion of a mother saying goodbye to their child? I can't possibly do that kind of event any justice. So...this is the best I can do.

Until then,

Keelah Re'lai, troopers!