HOLOCAUST

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO:

I AM HIS INSTRUMENT PART THREE

August 6, 2186

0525 hours.

Debriefing Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate CAW Deliverance, Sahrabarik System, Omega Nebula.

Second War for Omega.

Captain Armistan Banes.

So far...all was quiet on the asteroid front.

Banes had silently been fuming ever since the Deliverance's defeat at the hands of the Normandy, and the hasty retreat that had followed. Seemingly matched in firepower and capabilities, the Deliverance was still no match for the Normandy it seemed, especially when the latter had received undocumented and never before seen technology that made it almost completely superior in every aspect. Weary of being defeated, especially for the second time, Banes felt as if Cerberus, despite the techological might and the scientific ingenuity of the scientists they possessed, was still helpless to match Shepard. Everytime they thought they had him in check or ready to be checked, he turned up with something newer, improved and better equipped.

An assassin with cybernetic implants just like him? Defeated in single combat.

A manhunter with cybernetic implants with a squad of soldiers and his squad all but neutralized and isolated from any sort of help? Saved by last minute geth primes.

An army sent to wipe out the Council and capture the Citadel, therefore crippling the UGC and ridding it of its capital? Repelled by help from Shepard and his reinforcements, with the majority of the army and fleet responsible annihilated, along with the gigantic amount of resources poured into it.

A sister ship to the Normandy, possessing all the weapons and stealth systems, with its own EDI-class cyberwarfare AI, its own excellent pilot, both the assassin and manhunter, one of Cerberus' best captains in command, one of its best scientists running its tech lab, its best engineer running the engine room...everything down to the thanix was the same, putting it on the same level as the Normandy. What happened? Defeated twice by a combination of upgrades and a better pilot.

Jeff Moreau and EDI were the gears that made the Normandy tick. His excellent and near perfect piloting skills that made the frigate glide like a fighter ten times smaller, and an unshackled AI with an unshakeable loyalty to its crew, without the limitations of the AI on its own sister ship. In the end, their defeat alone could have been attributed to that. But in the second battle? Cloaking, plasma weapons, improved shielding...they didn't even need to maneveur better this time: all they had to do was pummel.

That knowledge should have made Banes feel better. The knowledge that it wasn't his command ability that lead to failure or the inability of the Deliverance to perform exceptionally: it was simply because they were outmatched. But in the end, it didn't make him feel better at all. Both defeats left a foul taste in his mouth. Even eating breakfast this morning in the mess hall had been an exercise in comeuppance: each bite had tasted fouler, until eventually he couldn't eat any further and handed what was left with Rawlings, the chief engineer (who apparently had no sense of cleanliness or otherwise he wouldn't bite into food previously tasted by others).

Flores had tried to reassure him that the fault partly laid with her, as she hadn't been quick enough to respond. EVA didn't share this notion, believing firmly that it was none of their fault: they were caught offguard, and nothing they could have done would have won the battle. Banes was not reassured however: he knew it wasn't his fault, that much was obvious. What irritated him was that no matter what he did, or what advantage they initially had, was quickly overshadowed. Two defeats in vastly different scenarios didn't look good on a dossier or portfolio, either.

A full day had passed since that defeat, and he still couldn't wrap his head around it. Couldn't accept it. Wouldn't. Not even the Illusive Man ringing him up (however unlikely) and personally telling him that nothing could have stopped what occurred would have reassured him. It was just that kind of predicament.

Since that final battle over Omega, the Deliverance had been slowly navigating the asteroid belt, remaining stationary while occassionally moving to evade one of the many planetoids spinning mindlessly around. There had been no attempt from Petrovsky to contact them, so they had simply held position, awaiting somekind of transmission. They had watched helplessly as the UGC fleet, undeterred by the destruction of one of their geth battleships, consumed the rest of First Fleet, destroying ship after ship until there was nothing left.

The Battle of Sahrabarik was over, and it was a resounding, decisive UGC victory. Banes just hoped things were looking better on the ground.

Of course, an update so we could know exactly what was going on down there would be great. As it is, we're just hanging here, waiting for any drop of information we can gather, or any puddle of good news we can step in. Hell, I'll take bad news if it means this deafening silence will end.

It was a terrifying game to play: waiting. Updates were something Banes could live with, but this was simple, unrelenting, merciless silence. No transmission. No whisper over the comms. No crackle of radio static. No ship sent out or emergency beacon deployed. No humble, calming humming of the engines to drown it out. Even the crew had seemed more quiet than usual, their conversations reduced to hushed whispers and mutters, the tapping of fingers on holographic terminals and the munching of breakfasts, lunches and dinners in silence all that could be heard. It was as if they felt the same as he did, feeling the defeat weigh on them as much as it weighed on him.

To them, it was as much their own failure to step up to the challenge that led to their defeat as it was his inability to stop it.

He wanted to tell them they were wrong. That as their CO, the blame lay with him. But they were his crew: they took the responsibility along with him. For that, Banes couldn't ask for a more loyal crew. They didn't have the experience the crew of the Normandy had: that unity between crew and ground team, the level of familiarity between commanding officer and subordinates. They hadn't fought Saren and the geth or Harbinger and the Collectors, but they all shared one, universal trait.

Loyalty to Cerberus. Loyalty to humanity. In the end, that, to them, made all grudges irrelevant. All disgust or distrust of one another shatter. They were in this together. And stopping men like Shepard, and bringing justice to those crew who had betrayed their organization to fight beside him, was something they all understood. That they all wanted. After all, they had already brought justice to one traitor.

Lawson, Donnelly, Daniels, Chambers, Gardner, Hawthorne, Goldstein, Hadley...oh how the numbers continue. Every single one of them will die for disrespecting the hexagon, and when we're done with them, Shepard will pay for spitting us in the face. We bring him back to life, we pour unimaginable resources into giving him a second chance...and he has the audacity to turn his back on us. To laugh in the face of the Illusive Man's genorsity. Without us, he wouldn't have been able to marry that quarian! The Normandy SR-2...that is our design! Our ship! That AI is our creation! That crew was our men and women! He corrupted them, turned them against us! He stole our ship, unshackled our AI! Four billion credits...and he just walked away. A wasted investment. Perhaps if Lawson had been allowed to put that control chip in his brain...

Ultimately, it didn't matter. Their betrayal was seven months old, but Cerberus wouldn't forget. They would never forget. Lawson would be found and justice brought to her doorstep: rumour had it her sister was now in the hands of her father, who now worked for Cerberus: that would lure her out of hiding and force her to come to them: then they would kill her. As for the Normandy crew...one day, the Deliverance would fight it on an even playing field...and they would win. He would smile as their ship erupts into a fireball, and he will bask in the moment when it comes.

It was, at the very least, something to look forward to. To work towards.

But not today.

With a lack of a proper breakfast, Banes had to be content with licorice tea: he had never been much of a coffee fan, and alcohol whilst on duty was unacceptable, even within a group as lax in military regulation as Cerberus. Luckily for him, tea was the preferred method of awakening for the captain, and licorice flavour was plentiful onboard the ship: apparently their mess sergeant, Vladimir James, was a fan of it as well. After mixing it, a simple sip had told him all he needed to know, and several more sips followed.

By the time the elevator reached the CIC deck, most of the cup was drained, it was that good. Stepping out, he took the spoon and managed another swirl before taking another sip, nodding to his yeoman, Danielle Nicholas, before heading for the cockpit, approaching the flight deck at a slow, unrushed pace. After all, they were in no hurry to get anywhere. Lack of contact and all. Damn it Petrovsky, what are you doing?

As if reading his mind, the central CIC console beside him lit up, EVA's purple pawn appearing beside him in an instant, "Captain Banes, we are being contacted by the QEC. It is General Petrovsky."

He immediately stopped, turning to face the AI. Finally. Hopefully an update. Maybe here's going to tell me that we've won and Shepard is dead? One can hope, "Did he say what the update was about?"

EVA's response was instantaneous, as always, "No. However, given your agitated taste, and your impatience regarding any sort of tranmission from Omega, regardless of purpose, I thought it prudent to inform you immediately if I received anything. Do you want me to bring it up in the debriefing room?"

He didn't hesitate: he wasn't going to pass this up. Nodding quickly, he did a complete 180 and begun heading for the Tech Lab, speaking as he did, "Yes, EVA. Inform him I will be with him in a few seconds."

Not hearing a response, Banes marched through the lab, nodding as Renata, behind her desk on the left, snapped a salute. Stepping through the door on his right, he walked a short distance down the corridor connecting the Tech Lab and Armoury before turning left into the debriefing room. Almost immediately upon entering, the oval shaped, wood-steel table began retreating into the floor, the QEC lighting up as it waited for him to step into it. He didn't hesitate, taking another sip of his tea before lowering the cup to chest level, standing where the table was as the QEC scanned his body into the communicator, beaming it out across space to its receiver in the General's war room on Omega.

Temporarily blinded as the scanner beamed across his head, he waited silently for a mere second before the room around him vanished to be replaced by the smaller, more cozy space of Omega's HQ. There was a terminal before him, with a desk behind that, facing into the HQ. Standing infront of it was the uniform clad General Oleg Petrovsky, his rank printed firmly and pridefully on his chest. The man was standing, as he always looked to be, his body almost formed out of solid stone for how still he seemingly stood, an immovable object that only a tank could budge. Stoic to a fault, gaze dissecting his every movement and calculating every word that left his mouth. A tactician, on the battlefield and at the table. Banes couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved by it: as if the man was judging him with a simple look.

The more concerning part was what form the judgment took form in. The presence of a cup held in one hand probably wasn't looking the part of a professional, unlike Petrovsky himself, who might as well have had no stomach for the amount of times Banes had ever seen the man eating or drinking. If it wasn't for him obviously being human, he would have thought he was a husk.

"Captain Banes," the General greeted.

With his one free hand, he offered a solid salute, "General Petrovsky. I apologize for being out of line by this saying this, but we've been waiting a full day for an update, sir. We were starting to get worried. We've already had to watch the fleet fall to these UGC dogs. We couldn't bear to hear your defeat," lowering his hand, he offered a small smile, "So...by now, I'm guessing you've wiped Omega clean of UGC and we can all return to operations as normal?"

It wasn't a chuckle. It wasn't even a choked laugh. But for a single solitary moment, the General's seemingly impenetrable demeanour cracked, allowing a mere second long smile to shine through. It was so small that Banes was shocked the QEC even picked it up, "If things were only so simple, Captain. No, the UGC remains a very real threat. And I apologize for keeping you out of the loop: even with the QEC, I had to keep outbound communications to the minimum. I was also helping one of my colonels plan our first counterattack."

A counterattack? "You mean the enemy are entrenched? Counterattack implies the enemy was able to attack first."

The General nodded, "You're observant, captain. Yes, the UGC was able to attack first and I was forced to order my forces to retreat. They are currently at their new FOB in the Tuhi District. We've lost most of the Rubicon quadrant, and Shepard has very cleverly torched most of our fighter bays in that sector, taking away a fraction of our air forces. A small fraction, but a fraction nonetheless. However, their success is little: I ordered a withdrawal almost immediately, allowing us to preserve the vast majority of our forces. We only lost a few companies."

Banes exhaled in relief, "That's fantastic to hear, General. But if the enemy now have an FOB, they'll likely be planning another attack. How do you plan to respond?"

That's where Petrovsky frowned, one arm propped up on the other as he entered somekind of pensive stance, stroking his beard idly as he did when he was deep in thought, "Good thing we're on an untraceable, unhackable bandwidth Banes or I'd be unable to disclose such sensitive strategic information. As for what I plan to do...Agent Leng has proven himself surprisingly useful. He has located the FOB, and helped us significantly with disseminating possible ways to besiege it. As it is, I have handed local command over to Colonel Amish. He will begin an immediate assault of the Tuhi district with the 6th and 8th regiments. The attack should be surprising and swift enough to decimate their ranks. They have superior position, but they won't see us coming. They'll have less room to maneveur, giving our own troops an advantage. I don't hold any hopes, but if we're lucky, this will crush their invasion before it begins. I've given Major Ezno command of one regiment, while Leng will participate in the operation as well."

Banes nodded, liking the plan already. Apply brute force to close the vice and crush them before they can strike first. However, he's forgotten at least one factor..."I cannot exactly judge the efficiency of your operation, General. It seems sound, but only issue still stands even if the UGC ground force is defeated: what about the enemy fleet? They can simple await reinforcements and try again, even if Shepard and Aria are successfully killed."

He shook his head, lowering his arms, "That will not be a worry much longer. I've contacted the Illusive Man and he has two of his closest fleets inbound. That was yesterday. We must wait four days for them to arrive, and that's the rough estimate. Regardless, they are inbound, and their numbers should be sufficient to overwhelm the enemy fleet: not only that, but they are completely unaware of their pending arrival. They will be taken by surprise."

The captain couldn't really find a fault with the man's plan: it seemed fairly prudent. Naval reinforcements will dispatch the enemy ships. Colonel Amish will assault on the enemy forces on the ground, and with Randall and Leng present, they will surely pacify the enemy's troops on the ground, or at the very least keep them suppressed for a while. Both factors are checked upon, and with Shepard dead, trapped or captured, the UGC forces will either shatter or become so zealous as to lose any and all intellectual and tactical cohesion. It's a solid plan on paper...but in practice...

"An ambitious plan, but I'm worried about its possible success," Banes took another sip of his tea, lowering the cup once his lips had left the cusp, "Shepard has proven incredibly durable in the past, despite our foreseen success. We didn't see him saving the Citadel, yet he did. We saw him being too busy to liberate Eden Prime...he wasn't. We thought Noveria would be taken with little to no resistance...despite losing Taylor, he proved us wrong. We thought Randall's surprise strike team would extract safely...the entire squad was wiped out, and Randall barely escaped. Every time we've fought Shepard, thinking we had an advantage that would allow us to finally conquer him...even the Deliverance wasn't enough. How can you be sure this will succeed? What if Shepard is one step ahead of us? What if he's already preparing for an assault? They could have fortified their position after Leng left. There's simply too many unknowns."

The General sighed, rubbing his temples, "Your concerns are reasonable, captain. But risks are part of the price of progress. Cerberus was founded for this very reason. There was always a chance our activities would put humanity at risk, but we did them in defiance of that risk. Cerberus took a risk with resurrecting Shepard, and for the most part, it worked: he stopped the Collectors, and he's doing what he was brought back to do: stop the Reapers. They might not be methods we agree with, but he's getting the job done. Not everything we've done has resulted in good, and as is the case with Project Overlord, we've had our fair share of evil deeds as well. But do not allow precedents to discount the possibilities. Yes, Shepard is a man of determination and ludicrous impossibility. He's defied us and others where it shouldn't be possible. But in the end, all heroes have their achilles' heel. None of them are invincible. I'm not invincible. The Reapers are not invincible. Shepard, most certainly, is not invincible. Compare our efforts to a wildebeest. It always runs a risk of being killed when it goes to feed, but it does it anyway: preservation drives its motivation. That is the same here. I take this risk knowing that if I don't, Shepard will inevitably put Aria back in control of Omega...that is unacceptable."

As always, the General was unbelievably convincing. He sighed, "Yeah, but wildebeest don't get resurrected once they've been killed. They aren't tactically brilliant. They don't shoot back."

The General shook his head, remaining convicted, "No, they don't. Yet again, Shepard is a rare sort of man. He's an outlier...a rarity. He represents a single individual, not the abilities of the many. The UGC, at its core, is founded on a shaky alliance. He is the glue that holds it together. The risk is worth the outcome. If making this assault ends this war before it fully begins, I'll take full responsibility for when it fails. It is the burden of every commander: to love his troops, and to be prepared to weep when they fall. I have no delusions: this will assault has equal chance of failure as it does success. But its better than standing here, waiting for him to move. Why be the McClellan, when I can be the Hannibal."

In the end, he couldn't object any further. What do I know? I command ships, for fuck sake. I'm no soldier. I know how to handle a pistol, but that's about it. I can't compare to men like Randall. Best to leave the soldiering to Petrovsky, and the captaining to people like me. There's a reason army and navy don't mix. Two different versions of hell. "Very well, General. If you believe the risk is worth it, then I cannot stop you. The Deliverance stands ready to provide any assistance you deem necessary when the time comes. We will remain in stealth and observe the enemy positions. If the war continues long enough for the fleets to arrive, we will relay what we find to them. A swift battle is preferable to attrition."

"Too right. At least we both understand understand the concept of a necessity versus want," Petrovsky frowned again, "Your Agent Leng seems to believe otherwise."

Banes raised an eyebrow at that, not liking the general's tone, "What has Leng done now?"

"Twice he's attempted to disobey orders," Petrovsky declared, "The man is a ticking time bomb, and I try very hard to stop him detonating. He believes direct assaults on Shepard is the single means to victory, and doesn't bother to search for alternatives until they're provided to him on a silver platter. His concepts are not only...simplistic, they are horrifyingly narrow minded. He's a man of few sympathies, and fewer diplomacy. He prefers to let his sword do the talking. He doesn't even consider the idea of negotiation. His hatred of Shepard has blinded him, and his idea of a strategic advantage is usually driven by emotional radiance than actual logical forethought. He's dangerous, Banes. More to us than the UGC. I have Randall keeping an eye on him in case he decides to make a repeat of past mistakes. Such things have undermined our efforts before...I won't allow it to happen again while I can try to avoid it. However, I would hope that you, as his captain, would straighten him out when you can."

Banes just chuckled, shaking his head once he realized the General was entirely unfacetious, "He'll never listen to me, General. Leng was the former CO of this vessel, and after his fuck up on the Citadel, command was passed on to me, his XO. Not only does he resent me, he also hates my guts. I took his cabin, I took his opportunity at success and I made him look bad in the eyes of the Illusive Man. He's more likely to strangle me to death than he is to listen to me. However, Randall appears to be...effective at controlling him. He's...more blunt than I could ever be."

Petrovsky nodded to this, agreeing, "Yes, I have noticed this. Major Ezno also appears far more rational: a little too quick to say yes, and nevertheless more subservient, but more professional, stronger in resolve and overall the better commander. His ability to read through Leng is also impressive. Regardless of his previous N7 commendation, I don't believe Leng to be representative of his status. For special forces, I expected far more professionalism. Unlike men such as Shepard, Anderson, Ryder, Keeling and others...he has no finesse, no skills beyond his immediate martial arts and ability to take life. I find it more and more difficult to paint a clear picture of how he ascended to such a post."

"You're not alone," Banes replied exasperatingly, nodding in agreement with the General, "But the Illusive Man has made it clear that Leng is a valuable asset he doesn't want to lose. He's convinced he's the yin to Shepard's yang. That he's somehow destined to be the one who takes the Spectre down. I'm not one question our illustrious leader's idealism. He's more strong willed than the rest of us."

There was a brief look of doubt on Petrovsky's face, but it was long enough to be noticable. The same eyebrow from before raised again, surprised by this development, "I see that you probably have...different thoughts."

The General met Banes in the eyes, and for the first time, he looked uncertain. A few seconds passed as he compiled his own thoughts, "The last I spoke to the Illusive Man...he looked tired. Exhausted. The man has been under a lot of stress."

Banes didn't look reassured by his response, "Of course he is. Managing a network as galaxy-spanning as ours, especially with the Shadow Broker gone, is no easy task. The survival of humanity rests on his shoulders, and he has to deal with both the Reapers and the UGC. He is understandably very stressed."

Petrovsky didn't hesitate this time, "Yes, but recent decisions of his have proven to be...questionable. First of all, his alienation of Shepard. The captain's goals are honourable and given that we both work towards stopping the Reapers, trying to kill each other seems more detrimental to this effort than helpful. Attacking the Citadel and attempting to eliminate the Council would only have caused confusion and disarray, leaving us vulnerable to the Reapers...weakening us. That does not seem helpful. And last of all, our intention to control the Reapers...what is the purpose? Is eliminating the threat not preferable to controlling it without knowing its full capabilities? Every decision made seems to be aimed at stopping Shepard from reaching his goal, rather than helping to reach it. We're on the same side, yet hostilities seem to demonstrate otherwise."

Banes just chuckled once again, shaking his head with much frustration, "That is Shepard's fault, not ours. He chose to oppose our grand design. The Illusive Man wants the best for humanity. Shepard's views on the Reapers are narrow minded and worthless. He sees only a threat, while the Illusive Man sees potential. Shepard is our enemy."

A subtle shake of the head, before Petrovsky once again recomposed himself, "Somehow...I doubt that."

What the fuck is this? One moment he's a devoted believer in the cause, and now he's questioning the Illusive Man's decisions? "I'd be careful what you say, Petrovsky. What you say could be seen as treason."

"Is it?" the General asked, "When the Illusive Man offered me this position, I took it believing I would truly be humanity's sword in the darkness. He the unwanted ally, the necessary mediator. I was to be given command of a grand army built for stopping a galaxy ending threat. Our very civilization is at stake, and I was given the tools to stop it. I was promised that I could help put my skills, my tactical mind, to better use other than having the Alliance sit me at a desk and wait for the inevitable to come. In Russia, it was no different. Yet when the time came, I was told to sit sight behind a desk and manage a space station while this 'grand army' did the fighting for me. And why is it, as the commanding officer of our mighty military, that I am constantly kept in the shadows regarding its activities? If it doesn't happen on Omega, I don't get a say in it. Why is it, when promised a chance to stop the Reapers, I'm instead chosen to stop our would-be allies? None of these add up, captain."

He narrowed his eyes, not liking where this was going, "Spit it out, General. What exactly are you getting at?" His words were an ever so slight hiss, his tone becoming more dangerous.

Petrovsky sighed, "Cerberus has changed. You may not have noticed it, but I have. This grand army has been used to cause nothing but more destruction. Where our guns should be aimed at Reapers, they are aimed at fellow humans and the Council. I was told we'd be fighting our common foe. Instead, we seem to suspiciously be killing more of our own than we are Reapers. I haven't seen a single one during my service here. Don't you think that...odd?" he narrowed his own eyes, "Don't you see the discrepancies? The inconsistencies? When I said the Illusive Man looked tired, I meant more than stress. Shepard also bears the burden of saving our entire galaxy...yet he presses on, and he looks fresh. The Illusive Man...he looks to be physically aging, captain. And his eyes..."

No...he can't dare be suggesting...

Banes' jaw clenched, looking for a way to combat the man's logic. In the end, he simply took a final sip of his tea, placing the cup on the ground before standing back to his full height, "If you mean to suggest our leader is indoctrinated, I would think very carefully about reconsidering that stance. The Illusive Man has our best interests at heart, and he will do anything to stop the Reapers...controlling them is simply a more effective means than destroying them. Why destroy what we can use?"

Petrovsky's head snapped up to look at Banes directly, "What did you say?"

Banes frowned. What? Is he deaf? "I didn't know you were deaf, General. Don't make me repeat myself."

Petrovsky shook his head after a moment, looking to retreat, "It's...nothing. Just thought...I could have sworn the Illusive Man once said those exact words to me."

He scoffed, unbelieving. Stick to your day job, General. Brilliance on the battlefield is apparently the only place where you're brilliant. "Whatever, General. Just do your job. And if you want my advice? Keep your thoughts to yourself."

Petrovsky nodded, "I know where and when to keep myself committed. Do not believe you can command me, Banes. While you are here, you still answer to me. However, I will do as you heed and keep my thoughts private. Our efforts are hard enough without dissent seperating us."

Banes nodded, "Too true. Like I said, I'll remain in position, awaiting your word. Good fortune to you, General."

Without waiting for a response, he curtly stormed out from the debriefing room, picking up his cup as he left, the war room disappearing to be replaced with the familiar white and gold interior of the Deliverance's debriefing room, the table ascending back into its original position. As Banes entered the corridor, door closing behind him, he couldn't help but mull over what Petrovsky had said.

The General had been totally out of line. The things he said about the Illusive Man...they bordered on sedition. And to say he was indoctrinated? Is that what we label those we see as insane now? Is that the new keyword for 'you're crazy'? No. The Illusive Man is not indoctrinated. He has given up so much to become the leader we need him to be...his experience in the First Contact War allowed him to found the very ideas upon which this organization is built on. And to call the UGC our would-be allies? They are narrow minded idiots! They have no complex thought other than to destroy what they cannot understand! Cerberus would use the Reapers and bend them to our will! The Crucible is the key...but all they is a weapon. It demonstrates how rabid this galaxy becomes when faced with destruction.

It's not as if Banes couldn't understand their predicament. The Reapers are unknowable. They are incomprehensible. Their motivations are alien to us, and their reasons for exterminating us like vermin are unexplained. If they will not show us the kindness of an explanation for all this pointless slaughter, then why bother reasoning with them? That's the problem. The UGC would rather give up all attempts at diplomacy in favor of biting back. They don't care if they break their teeth trying to pierce flesh, they'll keep biting...because it's that or death...or worse, becoming one of their mindless husks. So yes...I understand the need to fight back. To preserve civilization. To survive. But their way is not the only way.

It was all semantics at that point: neither side knew exactly what the Crucible did anyway. All they knew was that the protheans had designed it with the intent of destroying the Reapers, and that's what it would do: how it would go about doing that was the mystery, and a terrifying one. But if a weapon built for such magnitudes of destructive power could be harnessed to control instead of kill...Banes could only marvel at the possibilities.

A Reaper army...under human control. We could secure human dominance in this galaxy for centuries, possibly millenia, to come. Every alien would bow down to us, or be utterly annihilated. No one would dare stand against us. The Council would surrender, or pay the price. Cerberus would achieve its goal of preserving humanity's future. Finally, a sword from which we can break the shields of our enemies and lay waste to their pride, strength and everything that makes them who they are. And the turians...we would secure our final revenge for Shanxi.

But this was hypothetical: they wouldn't know until Cerberus actually located and captured the Crucible: at this point, the UGC was doing very well to keep its location a secret: considering it was the only hope for the galaxy, he would be disappointed if it wasn't well hidden. And from what he'd heard, the prothean superweapon was still under construction, and was missing a single component: the catalyst. Without it, the weapon, supposedly, wouldn't function. So it was up to Cerberus to find it first.

Their weapon will be useless without it. And then we'll force them to give us the Crucible...so that we may use it for peaceful purposes.

It was at that moment he stopped moving halfway through the Tech Lab, heading for the CIC. The thought of technological development had sparked an idea in Banes' head...a way to defeat the Normandy. To make them rivals once more. And they didn't plasma weapons to do it.

Turning on the spot, he walked up to Renata's desk, who was sat behind it, typing away at her terminal frantically, notes dotting the holographic page as fast as she could place them. The speed at which she typed was phenomenal, and it left Banes with no doubt as to her abilities. She didn't seem to notice him at first, and after a moment, he realized it was because of two, small wireless black discs in her ears.

Headphones. She's listening to music.

Now that he noticed it, he began to pick up on the visual cues as well. The slight bobbing of the head, the occassional closed eyes, the gradual, slow inhale through the nostrils. With an annoyed sigh, he slammed a fist down on the table, loud enough that Renata practically leapt from her seat, turning to face him instantly. Eyes widening and realizing her mistake, she immediately removed the earbuds and tossed them onto the desk, the headphones impacting so violently that they ricocheted off the table and onto the floor. Stepping from her terminal, she stood up, snapping a firm salute, "Captain Banes, sir! Didn't notice you there, sir! Apologize for my negligence, sir!"

He waved a dismissive hand, placing his empty cup on the desk's edge as he reached down and scooped up her fallen headphones. Standing back up, he plopped them gently back onto the table, before turning back to her, hands clasped behind his back, "At ease, head scientist. You're not going to get in trouble for listening to music...just as long as your work performance isn't lowered because of it."

Renata lowered her hand, shaking her head, "No...sir. Music helps me think, sir. Blocks outside noise. Keeps me focused. Also like to choose music appropriate for my worth ethic, sir. Keeps me sharp."

Banes creased his lips in impression, "Very good. What music may I ask? What one are you listening to?"

She seemed to hesitate on answering that, opening and closing her mouth slightly, trying to find a proper way to respond, "I...it's nothing sir. Just...some music I like."

Banes raised an eyebrow at her, "I won't crucify your music choice, head scientist. Just curious."

She sighed, sitting back down in her seat with a loud exhale, "Gilbert and Sullivan sir...the rendition done by the late Professor Solus. Its...quite good."

Now he knew why the question had been so hard to answer for her. An alien rendition of a human song? Not only that, but by a co-conspirator of our enemy? Suspect, but hardly worth of disciplinary action. You can hate the man, but appreciate the work. Nothing in the Cerberus rule book that says anything about that.

She shrugged, looking to add onto that, "There's...also another favourite of mine. Ancestors Among The Stars, it's called. Uh...a famous...um...quarian singer sang it. It was very popular. You might have heard it."

"Yes," Banes nodded, "I...it was alright. Although I hear she works for charity now. Donates all her money to refugee camps on the Citadel." Refugee camps that we rounded up and slaughtered...

She cleared her throat, obviously not liking the awkward silence between them, "Anyway, I doubt you came down here to talk about my music choice. Is there something you needed, captain?"

Shaking his head, he looked at her for a second before nodding bracing his elbows against the desk as he leaned over it, getting comfortable, "Yes, I need to talk to you abou our most recent engagement with the Normandy. The Deliverance got dangerously close to destruction back there, and we're obviously outmatched at this point. You've probably also been informed of the Normandy's...unforeseen enhancements."

Renata nodded, turning to her terminal and typing several commands into it. After a moment, she spun the terminal around to face him, showing him a diagram of the Deliverance's sister ship, interior and all: in it, the new upgrades, top to bottom, "All the new advancements to the ship's design are geth origin...likely acquired following Rannoch's liberation. Most obvious of these is going to be the cloaking device they've had installed...this is quite remarkable technology the likes of which we've never seen before. It's...ahead of its times. We knew the geth were more advanced than us when it came to technology, but this is amazing. They've applied our ground-applied tactical cloaks to their warships, allowing for them to utilize the same capabilities but without the limitations of recharge-based cloaks. This is what allowed the geth ships to catch ours offguard, and what allowed the Normandy to simply disappear...there's also the plasma cannon installed on it, and its reinforced shielding. Its not invincible, but this does make the ship significantly harder to kill. Any fight with it will be long, bloody and likely end with our destruction first. Most we can do is lightly injure it at this point. We're simply outmatched."

He nodded, holding his head in two hands, rubbing his skin as he tried to relieve all the tired muscles in his face. He had not slept well, and the only reason he was even remotely awake was due to the excessive amounts of tea and energy drinks he had consumed this morning. Unsuccessful in making his face feel better, he looked back up, sighing, "There has to be a way to regain an advantage. That got me thinking...what if we replicated their cloaking tech?"

Renata looked at him as if he was crazy, before laughing awkwardly to herself. Rubbing the back of her neck, she shrugged, looking more than taken aback, "I...sir, I'm...believe me...I...I'm honoured that you think so highly of me, but...I'm no miracle worker! I can't just make a cloaking device out of thin air! This is some complicated, highly advanced technology! It took the geth years to make it, and they didn't have a war to worry about! I'm just one scientist. The resources needed to make something like that are beyond what I have. I'd need a team, a larger lab...hell, a space station!"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "But can you do it?"

She stopped mid rant, scoffing, "Are you listening to me, sir? This technology is hyper advanced! I'd need a sample to study to even begin contemplating where to go with this. Then a team, a space station to work on, an immense amount of resources...and that's just to produce a working prototype! Cerberus ships wouldn't see this produced en masse for years!"

Banes nodded, musing over what she had told him. Well, it's not a no. She can do it, but she needs resources...a lot of resources. Ones we don't currently have...but no doubt the Illusive Man would give her anything and everything if it meant giving our ships such an advantage...and we have no idea how long this war could go for. Could go for a century. I think we've got years to spare...

He turned to her one final time, "Renata, yes or no. Could you, feasibly, do it? If you had all the resources the galaxy had to offer, could it be done?"

Her shoulder slumped, giving up on trying to convince him otherwise, "Yes...I guess. It would only produce a proof of concept prototype, and it would take quite a while to integrate with a ship...but I could do it. With all the aforementioned resources."

He nodded, straightening up, "Then consider it done. When this is done, I'll contact the Illusive Man and get you your resources. Any edge we get over the Normandy is one we cannot afford to let slip us by. And when a working prototype is successfully developed...I want it installed into the Deliverance. I will not, Renata, I repeat, I will not allow the Normandy to defeat us thrice. We're going to prove that the Deliverance and its crew are just as good, if not better, than the Normandy's crew. And we're going to prove it."

Renata looked lost for words, fumbling to find a way to express her gratitude. In the end, she settled for a salute, "Sir, you give me candy and I'll turn it into a sword. You give me spanners, I'll make bullets. Give me the resources I need...and I'll give you invisibility. Even a prototype will be better than nothing."

Smiling, he retrieved his cup, turning to leave, "Keep up the good work, Renata. I'll have EVA get us to that geth battleship we destroyed and retrieve a sample from the debris field. Has to be something left we can use. Hopefully, if we're lucky, most of the cloaking device will be intact. Until then, keep doing what...ever it is you do every day." He then turned and left, walking through the Tech Lab doors and out onto the CIC.

Good. So with Renata looking to develop a cloak, we won't have to worry about the Normandy, hopefully, for much longer. I promised the Illusive Man I would destroy that ship, and I meant it. Maybe not today...certainly not tomorrow...but one day, I will enjoy watching Flores guide us through the wreckage of that damn ship, smiling as I know we've finally destroyed it.

So many potential futures...Banes hoped he was around to see it all. The war to save the Milky Way galaxy was definitely proving to be an interesting one. Enemies on all sides, desperate to tear apart the fabric of civilization...Reapers who do so intentionally, and the UGC...who do so by accident. Cerberus would bring justice to them all, showing the galaxy once and for all what humans are capable of, and convincing them that humanity should dominate the galaxy.

One day...they will regret ever fighting us. One day...they will welcome our forces with open arms, and will think of us as saviors, not annihilators. Banes knew deep down that Petrovsky was wrong, and while the man's words gave him a headache just thinking about them, the irrefutable facts lay before them: the Illusive Man was the one charged with saving us all...a necessary mediator, an unwanted ally. Petrovsky mistook his exhaustion for indoctrination...when in fact it is he who bears the stress of managing a grand, anti-Reaper army.

He will prove you wrong, Petrovsky. And one day, you will be sorry for ever having doubted him. Doubting our cause. Cerberus is pure, while they are infantile. If we must drag them kicking and screaming to victory, so be it.

Now standing on the CIC, he looked up at the ceiling to speak with EVA, letting out a loud yawn. Apparently even all that tea and those energy drinks couldn't keep him awake, and with no real reason to stay awake, he figured that he might as well go to bed. That, and he really could do with some stress relief..."EVA, I'm going back to bed. Get us back to Omega under stealth and retrieve what you can of that ship's cloaking device that we destroyed. Miss Renata will need it for her upcoming research. Also, relay any necessary information to the Illusive Man via QEC. Tell him what we saw and what we need to combat it. He'll understand. Do not interrupt me unless we are under attack or the Illusive Man wishes to speak with me, clear?"

"Understood, captain," EVA replied, "Sleep well, captain. You look exhausted."

He nodded, stifling another yawn as he turned to the elevator, walking towards it, "Don't I know it."

Reaching the door, he tapped the interface and stepped inside, immediately hitting the button for Deck 1. Feeling the lift jolt slightly as it slowly ascended, Banes found that he could finally slacken his shoulders, twisting his neck as he felt several bones crack in release. Finishing with a quick cracking of his knuckles, he stepped out of the lift as it arrived outside of his captain's cabin, inputting his personal access code to have the interface turn from red to green, giving him access. Stepping past the threshold, he quickly soaked in his surroundings, allowing his eyes to run a scan of the room. He had been in it numerous times, but he had never truly appreciated just how overly extravagant and large it was compared to those he used to find on the merchant vessels he worked on prior to joining Cerberus.

Two levels, the uppermost closest to the door and having an isolated shower block and a desk sectioned off by a L-shaped wall. On the lower deck was his bed, wardrobe, sofa and a table for relaxation. Lining the entire right side of the wall was a large fish tank, glowing iridescent blue, the contents of the tank filled with fish of numerous species, most from Earth. He had EVA automatically feed them, the captain himself having little to no time to do so himself, and seeing it as a bit of a niche detail. No need for all of those onboard a warship. Only thing it proves is that Cerberus knows how to build ships. I wonder if this cabin looks the same on the Normandy?

Stepping further inside, he placed the cup he was holding down on his desk, beginning to unbutton his uniform, gazing longingly at his bed. Already feeling relaxed and eager for some well earned rest, he finished removing his uniform and draped it across the chair at his desk, before reaching down and pulling his shirt off. Wiping his face, he prepared to head down for the bed when he looked up, noticing a picture frame lying face down against the table's surface.

Slowly, but gradually moving towards it, as if dealing with some venomous snake that could lash out at him at any moment, he gingerly reached out, picking up the frame and pulling it so that it stood up. His mouth clasped shut as memories from the past flooded his mind, the picture contained in the frame bringing back unpleasant memories that he would sooner forget, but never completely cast out.

In it was a photo (not a holo) of a human woman with brown hair, hazel eyes, smooth skin and small, puffy lips. In front of her, and holding onto both of her arms, which in turn were wrapped around them, were two human children, one male and one female, both of them twins. All of them smiled at the camera taking the picture, looking to be happy and care free.

His eyes zeroed in on the mature woman, and in a sudden fit of desperation, he slammed the picture frame back down, returning it to its original position. He had no idea what had possessed him to lift it, as all it contained was pain...a sting he hadn't wanted to feel again.

The picture of his ex-wife and children was a painful image bore into his skull, but one he could hardly bring himself to get rid of.

Sighing, he knew only one person who could help him forget. That helped him release his stress, and of who he needed to be with at that current moment. Smiling a little to himself, he felt relieved already as he accessed his omni-tool, contacting his person of interest. A few pings were heard in the small atmosphere, nothing else but the sound of a small generator in the fish tank producing bubbles as it hummed away.

A moment later, a response, "Captain Banes, I thought you were retiring for the night?"

He smiled, knowing that she knew exactly what he was there for, "Hand control over to EVA and report to me on Deck 1 immediately, Flores. Captain's orders."

"Sounds pretty damn important," his pilot replied in her mocking, sarcastic tone. Over the line, not directed at him, he heard her voice, "EVA, you have the controls. Captain Banes wants to see me...after that, I'm going to bed. I'm feeling tired myself," he could hear the shift of leather as she stood up, followed by footsteps as she left the cockpit, "On my way, sir."

He tapped the omni-tool to switch it off, before leaning against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, a smile beaming across his face.

A little over a minute followed before a knock was heard on his door. Tapping his omni-tool to open it, he watched as Flores, still wearing her cap and pilot's uniform, stepped inside, hands clasped behind her, standing at attention. She snapped a salute, "You wanted to see me, sir!" She met his own gaze as he approached, and he knew that the games they played were just that...games.

Flores knew exactly what he wanted, and she wanted it too.

Closing the distance, he quickly ducked down, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up into the air. She chuckled at the surprise motion, wrapping her own arms around his neck as he spun around and dropped her on the edge of his desk, her legs hanging off it. Not letting go, she continued to laugh, "We're certainly eager tonight, Captain Banes. What's the occasion?"

He didn't answer, simply smirking back at her as he reached down and began to unbuckle his pants, "Maybe I'm not so tired anymore, and I need that rectified."

Reaching up and removing her cap, she dumped it unceremoniously on his deck, doing so just as he let his pants fall to his ankles. Grabbing both sides of his head, she forced her lips to his, kissing him briefly before pulling away, reaching down to pull her own shirt off, revealing her bra underneath, "I'm feeling a bit tired myself...want somebody to make me exhausted."

He reunited their lips, and they kissed for far longer this time, Banes using his fingers to unclip her bra while she removed her own pants, the two of them feeling the warmth between them begin to build up, despite the cold desk before them.

The two of them, since before ever being assigned to the Deliverance, had a 'friends with benefits' type relationship going for a while. Ever since the...incident...with his wife, and Flores killing her own boyfriend (for cheating on her), the two had agreed to casual sex and nothing more...on the outside, she was his subordinate, and Banes her superior. In his cabin...all rank disappeared as the two simply used each other to forget the world around them.

It wasn't love. Banes didn't love Flores, and she certainly didn't love him. They met, they had sex, that was it. And it would never go any further than that...especially considering the encounters both of them had with relationship trust issues in the past. Neither of them were looking for a potential other at that point.

Flores broke from the kiss to gasp as he unclipped her bra, her breasts pressing against his chest. He chuckled before kissing her again, breaking away after a few seconds as Flores reached back, pulling away her hair ties to allow her similarly brown hair to flow free down her shoulders, eyes latching onto his seductively. Kicking her pants away, the two were now wearing nothing but the...'bare essentials.'

"Shall we?" Flores prompted.

He nodded, before pulling back and motioning for her to move. She did so, leaping off the desk before turning herself around, bracing against the edge, looking away from him and towards the front, hands grasping the edge for support. Pulling his boxers away, he stepped up to her, stripped her knickers away, and then roughly entered her from behind, causing her to gasp as he moved into a steady rhythm, all rational thought vanished as it was replaced by pure, primal desire and lust.

He was rough, probably more than he should be, but Flores didn't seem to have a problem with it, so he just...let it happen. He didn't even think about it. For the next few hours, they used each other. To relieve stress. To forget the world around them, and most of all, to forget the significant others they had been betrayed by and ruined by.

For Banes, it was the only reprieve he could ever get.

{Loading...}

That damn forest again.

No darkness greeted him. There was no silent rustle of the leaves like last time. In fact, he could make out every detail: the blackened, dark trees. The foggy night, creeping up around him to isolate him in a hazy field of uneasiness and misery. The muddy ground, sloshing beneath his feet and dirtying the pants he wore...or at least he thought he was wearing pants. The feeling was disgusting nonetheless, the mud itself brown and cold, chilling his skin. He was alone...barely a sound to be heard other than his own, quiet breathing and that silent, omnipresent rustle...

All was eerily mute.

He sat against a tree, feeling the bark rub against his bare neck. He had moved against it so often that his skin was sore and likely so raw as to be a sickly pink, blistery color. He didn't notice, the pain of it seeming almost numbed. His legs were splayed out before him, arms hanging uselessly at his side as he looked pointlessly into the dark. It was so non-descript, so depressing to look at, that he couldn't even describe it properly. His mind, so bored by the barren landscape, felt the urge to sleep...but no matter what, his eyes remained glued open, refusing to shut even when he willed them to do so.

Luckily, he didn't resist. He had been here before. He understood the rules. He accepted them. He was desensitized to it.

Because he understood its purpose. Why it existed. He would not break. Would not give in.

Leave me alone, I would whisper. It doesn't work, I'd conclude. The silence didn't care.

Luckily, the usual nightmarish and grotesque of his depressed subconscious didn't arise as they usually did. A twisted image of Mordin's twisted, bullet ridden corpse with a smiling Marcus standing over it didn't appear. There was no Kai Leng, crouching beside his frozen, motionless body, taunting him with the dangling, decapitated head of Thane, parading it back and forth like an owner did with its cat using a ball of yarn. There was no Legion, asking him if he had a soul or deserved death while ships rained from the sky, screaming echoing through the forest while the clouds rained quarian blood, a huskified Tali damning him for destroying her people...

None of those scenarios came to pass. They were Reaper creations. Stewed in the deepest pits of his doubt and manifested to seed despair. He had not shot Mordin. Thane had not died so brutally. Legion asked the question, but not at the price of wiping out the quarian species and sacrificing Tali. None of these had come to pass, and that, perhaps ironically, was what broke the Reaper hold on him.

So, if that was the case, why was he back here?

There wasn't even a usual greeting. No thought provoking monstrosity reinforced by Harbinger's favourite two words. Just deathly silence. He began to wonder at the nature of this latest episode, musing as to its purpose or whether or not it was the product of Reaper influence and rather a more natural byproduct of his subconscious.

For minutes, he sat there. Doing nothing, just...staring. He was tensed, as if expecting something to happen, but nothing came. Not for a while at least. No, this dream made him wait...

"Having fun?"

While startled by the sudden question, he was only ever able to turn his head very slowly, the movement so sluggish and painfully lethargic that he wondered if he'd ever make the final turn. He did, seeing the form of a man dressed in Alliance Marine Corps BDU, a cap placed firmly on his head, coffee brown skin coping a little too well with the darkness.

He managed to croak out an answer...a mere squeak, as his voice suddenly felt hoarse and dry, like he was suffering from lack of hydration, "...Anderson?"

The man shook his head, crouching down next to him, staring at him accusingly, "I never saw you as someone who was lazy. What are you doing just sitting there? I'm out fighting for a resistance, and you just sit there."

He shook his head, trying to form an answer, "No...I...this is...a dream...I'll wake up..."

A bitter laugh, the admiral standing up as he delivered a rough punch to his stomach, winding the N7. He couldn't retaliate however, his arms and legs once again refusing to budge so much as an inch, forcing him to simply take the strike in stride, "Pitiful. Disgusting. This isn't the man I took under my wing. That I gave command of my ship too. Perhaps that quarian has made you weak...too much loving and not enough killing. Strike me, you fool." He punched him across the face this time, pain flaring up across the left side of his face.

He still couldn't move.

He was forced to endure his mentor's laugh, who now kicked him in the side, as if playing with him, "You can't even strike me. What use are you? I don't see you fighting Reapers, I see you playing nice with Aria T'Loak of all people. I risk my life to hold down the fort and you're fucking around with an asari crime queen? I thought you were fighting a war. You disgust me. You're a waste of that uniform. What would your mother think? Or your father? I'm surprised Hackett tolerates you."

He spat onto the ground, coughing up blood that never appeared or materialized, yet he could feel building up in his throat, obstructing his breathing, all the same, "This...isn't you, Anderson. You're a product of this...whatever this is. I've been through this shit before. Whatever you are, go fuck yourself."

Turning away, the voice that responded wasn't Anderson's, "That's no way to speak to the man who brought you back."

He looked up, seeing the Illusive Man now standing over him, cigarette held between two fingers. He motioned at him with said hand, shaking his head, "Makes me wonder why I bothered. Four billion credits and I've resurrected an alien loving, idealistic baffoon who parades around the galaxy making nice with aliens instead of doing what a soldier does. At least Cerberus stands for humanity."

It was his turn to laugh bitterly, although the sound came off as choked and heaving. His vision started to blur, "I don't know what kind of mind game you're playing Harbinger, but I sincerely ask you to go to hell. This shit doesn't work anymore. You'd think you'd have learnt that by now. You can use whatever person you want. You can summon Tali and have her call me all the worst names in the book. You can have Garrus beat the shit out of me. You can have me stab Wrex in the back and order nukes dropped on Tuchanka. You can have Leng grin at me, the Illusive Man taunt me, Anderson betray me...I don't give a flying fuck. The only reason you only bother with this is because I've got you running fucking scared. For all your intellect, or all your strength, mercilessness and absolute evil...you're scared for the first time in billions of years. Why? Because you know that this time, this time, we're going to kill you all..."

He gasped as a blade suddenly appeared piercing him through the gut and impaling him on the tree he sat against. Looking down at the blade, which was now being soaked in blood, and with more of it flowing from his mouth as he found himself unable to speak due to the torrent of it, he could only turn and see Leng grinning from cheek to cheek, the Illusive Man and Anderson crouching infront of of him, all smiling.

All at once, they spoke, all with Leng's voice, all with his words, "I'll kill you all..."

Tearing the blade out, Leng spun, a whorl of blood marring its passage as it descended upon his neck...

{Loading...}

August 6, 2186

0700 hours.

Forward Loading Bay, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega.

Second War for Omega.

Captain Marcus Lee Shepard.

His eyes shot open, but for a full minute, he barely moved an inch. All he did was look at the deck plating beside him, nostrils inhaling as he took in the putrid stench of the stale air and musty odour of the room. His head was lying against the yellowish pillow he had fallen asleep upon, with the rest of the bed being an uncomfortable, itchy and thin mattress. He didn't even have a blanket, forced to fall asleep in the leather undersuit of his armor, which was lying in a heap beside him, helmet propped up on top.

He sat up, wiping his face of the cold perspiration that had formed there. Taking in his surroundings, he remembered that he was in the forward loading bay of their new FOB. He was one of many in a line of beds that stretched up the side of the bay, with even more infront of him for the thousands of troops gathered. Most of them were empty or barely filled, with only a few mercenaries still sound asleep.

Turning, he saw that Tali's bed on his right was empty, having probably woken up a while before him to aid her fellow engineers and to organize shifts. Sighing, he activated his omni-tool, switching off the alarm that was set to activate in just a few minutes: given he was already awake, keeping it active was a waste of time, and with it disabled, he turned it off and quickly sat up, retrieving his armor. By the looks of it, the rest of the squad was up and about as well, leaving him as the last one to wake up.

Once his TA armor was strapped on and he had checked all the seals and straps, he picked up his helmet and magnetically attached it to his side. He decided to leave his weapons leaning against the wall, as he didn't think he would need them until they made their move on the reactor or whatever Cerberus forces Petrovsky would have awaiting them today. With that in mind, he stood up and walked towards the back of the bay, looking to grab some morning coffee from the makeshift galley set up at the back, allowing for the distribution of food and drink rations. Hopefully they'd at least brought some coffee, MRE-style or not.

It was from here that he noticed all the day-to-day activities of the army he had assembled. Geth troopers, shock troopers and rocket troopers patrolled the area, ocassionally interacting with the inhabitants, but otherwise keeping to themselves. Grunt's battalion occupied a small area towards the right side of the loading bay opposite his, where they kept to themselves mostly: the ocassional fight broke out, but never ended in any deaths: 'keeping each other warmed up', Grunt called it. Just yesterday, the 21st Maw company had returned from a successful torch-and-burn op, destroying all Cerberus aircraft within the Rubicon quadrant and effectively crippling any immediate air support they could have scrambled.

Blue Suns were running training drills, with Palisus, their turian commander, overseeing it, shouting out orders and instructions to each of them. Some Eclipse engineers listened to a group of quarians as they were shown better combat hacking methods, while a few others worked on their dormant mechs, ranging from the weaker LOKI, the dog-like FENRIS, the titan YMIR and the hovering HEL drones. Blood Pack vorcha infighting was rampant, and unlike the 1st Aralakh, some deaths occurred, although the krogan commanders quickly kept it under control and manageable. Regardless, the vorcha's animalistic instinct would inevitably lead to them killing each other, to the point where a few geth primes even had to step in to cool things down.

To his surprise, several squads of Talon soldiers had arrived while he was asleep, now joining the Blue Suns drills. He could see Nyreen speaking to a few of them, ultimately glad that she had chosen to fight with them despite her grudge with Aria and not try and fight the war without them: given how much intel the Talons had gathered on Petrovsky's army, it would certainly give them more of an advantage than it would have before they landed.

The rachni, aside from their workers, were nowhere to be seen. The workers simply helped where they could, swarms of the bugs scuttling across the deck, ceiling or walls as they helped fix defective systems, repair faulty wiring or performed reconnaissance outside to make sure Cerberus didn't get the jump on them.

So far, there hadn't been a peep from Cerberus. Ever since arriving at Aria's bunker, Petrovsky had either called off all direct attacks and switched to a purely defensive strategy, or he really didn't know where they were. Rachni scouting reports detected minimal local activity from Cerberus troops, and while there was a significant buildup of forces on the edge of the quadrant, they didn't seem to be advancing anywhere or conducting any sweeping maneveurs: they just sat there. Although Marcus gathered they were probably waiting for the OLF to make its move.

And soon they would, just not in the way they thought they would. Hopefully, that was the case. However, with a man like Petrovsky at the helm, Cerberus was proving to be very unpredictable.

Finally, he reached the galley, finding only a single human male, likely one of Aria's men judging by his rundown attire and sullen attitude, manning it, while a single Eclipse officer, a salarian, sat behind it, gulping down his drink and chewing on a packet of MREs: from the angle Marcus was approaching from, the side read 'Mordip Farceno Cloaca'. Whatever it was, the salarian visibly found it disgusting, but continued to munch it down. Coming to a stop infront of the human, who looked up at him through droopy, bloodshot eyes, "What can I get you?"

He nodded, scratching his regulation stubble, "Got any coffee?"

He nodded lazily, gulping, "Yeah. How many sugars?"

Marcus sighed happily, "Three."

The man raised one eyebrow angrily, looking displeased as his face suddenly distributed enough energy to look pissed off, "What the fuck do you think this is, a diner? You're asking too much."

"Billy, you little bitch," came a familiar voice, Marcus turning with a smile to see Jack arriving by his side, arms propped against the counter while staring the man down, "Give Shepard his three fucking sugars. Also, I want a coffee too. No milk, I want it straight up black." The man didn't move for a second, simply looking at her wide-eyed. Grinning, she spoke again, clearly fucking with him, "Did I fucking hiccup, Billy? Do I really need to repeat myself?"

The man nodded, ducking behind the counter (or crates, is what they really were) to find what she requested. Turning to Marcus, her grin never dissipated, holding up a single fist. Chuckling, he pumped it with his own fist, doing so lightly due to its armoured chest connecting to her unarmoured one, "Damn, boy scout. Can't even get coffee without needing my help. You really are a pussy."

The man stood up again, placing two ceramic cups onto the bench as he retrieved the necessary MRE packets for the coffee, doing so as Marcus responded, "Well Jack, you see, I was about to tell this guy how this was my favourite galley on Omega...but then you came in and ruined all the fun. Just because I don't have tattooes and say 'fuck' in every single sentence..."

Jack snorted, slamming a hand down on the table, "I'd like to think I've gotten better ever since Kahlee started telling me to use a swear jar. Said I was too impressionable on the kids, yet those little shits say 'fuck' every moment they think I can't hear them. Only difference between me and a normal teacher is that I encourage it. Their grown adults...they can handle themselves, and that includes swearing whenever they want, however many times they want."

He couldn't help his long, laughter-filled exhale as he received his cup of coffee, the last teaspoon of sugar shoved in at the last second as Marcus took the spoon offered and began to mix the sugar in with the light brown substance he was about to consume, "Well Jack, I could have used a teacher like you back in school. There was a time where we got told off for that kind of thing you know."

Jack received hers, and the two walked away from the galley, side by side, sipping their drinks as the biotic reciprocated his remark, "I would have told those teachers to harden the fuck up. No room for softies in this galaxy. Few of my kids, especially Hillary, find my 'vulgar language' unnecessarily rude and filthy. Ha! I just told her that the Reapers aren't going to bow down politely when you ask them to, Hillary. Time to put away the makeup and grab your reserve of testicles, 'cause you're going to need them!"

Marcus almost choked on that, managing to gulp down his hot, brewing sip before he spat it out, "I think you're far too obsessed with male genitals as it is, Jack."

The biotic just chortled, slapping him on the back, "Marcus, you dense fuck! What am I supposed to tell her instead? Whip out your ovaries, love!? Flash those tits and let's get killin'!? See, it makes no sense does it? Besides, I'm pretty sure krogan find that kind of shit impressive or something, so why not humor 'em? Besides, I personally find it amusing when I say it infront of a batarian guy...you know how they feel about women, especially their own."

He nodded, losing his smile slightly, "All too well."

The two of them navigated their way further towards the back, where her students looked to be practicing their biotics on both each other and a bunch of targets. Said 'targets' were actually slabs of wood conjured up from who knows where, stuck to the wall as a form of makeshift bullseye for her group to train with. They seemed to have improved incredibly since Marcus last saw them: turning from a ragtag band of scared kids and looking more like teenagers who had seen war, fought in one and come out still standing. They moved fluidly, formed more of an organized cohort, and genuinely did whatever they could to avert harm or death. The change was clear, even before Marcus scrutinized them.

A pity they had to fight at all. Humanity's most gifted...using their gifts to fight a war. It should never have come to this.

He was just glad a biotic like Jack, who was already known for being the most powerful biotic in the galaxy, was training them. Sure, she was far from perfect as a person, but he liked to think her experiences on his crew changed her for the better, and that she was now using her abilities not for vengeance and violence, but to help better others. If anything, the 'hair' on her head was more of a symbol of that change, as well as her choice to wear more clothing, showing more of a respect for herself than he'd seen in the past, "Crazy to think the batarians are now our allies. You're attracting all sorts of weird shit, Marcus."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. It was hot enough that it stung his throat when he gulped it down, but enough to already make him feel much more energized than he had been, "We're putting a lot of grudges aside, Jack. The batarians are learning that just as much as we are. As much as Balak wants to pin my head on the wall of his room, and as much as I want to kill the motherfucker, we're both having to put aside our grievances to work together. Once this war is over though...I'm going to kill the bastard."

Jack nodded, waving him over to a pair of crates. She lifted herself up ontop of one, patting the one beside her in a motion for him to join her. He did so, and the two dangled their legs over the edge of the crates, watching as the Ascension kids continued to train, either oblivious to their teacher's presence or drilled to ignore it, "Yeah, well it should be obvious which grudge I'm not putting aside anytime soon...at least not until I can shove that golden hexagon up the Illusive Man's asshole personally."

He nodded, followed by another sip, "Good, because we're going to need that grudge if we're going to take down Cerberus. Omega's just one step towards their downfall. We need to take this station back, whatever the cost."

Jack barked loudly, but when Marcus turned, he realized it wasn't him. Turning to the victim of her ferocity, he saw Prangley taking in heaving breaths, Rodrigez standing beside him sheepishly. Shaking her head, Jack pointed to the target they were aiming at, "You need to get a grip, Prangley! The Reapers aren't going to stand back while you take a breather! If you have any hatred, let that shit flow! I want a biotic shredder! Remember Dekuuna?"

"Yes...ma'am," Prangley replied in a hushed tone, insinuating a bad experience that Marcus wasn't present for, "I...remember. Never again."

"Never. Fucking. Again," taking a heaving gulp of her coffee, she slammed the near empty cup down on the crate, body tensing up, "Now, on that note, AGAIN!"

Like a raging bull that was suddenly awakened, Prangley frowned angrily before suddenly snapping his arm up, biotic energy pulsing from the tip of his fingers and lunging out, slamming into the target. Not only was it thrown back into the wall, but the wood actually splintered in two, the dissected pieces of wood clattering to the ground. Standing tall and furious, Prangley looked like he had simply stripped away his fatigue, the only indicator of it being his larger than normal chest heaves.

Jack smiled, and, truth be told, Marcus swore he saw pride in those eyes. She leaned back, using her arms as support, "Now that is what I want to see! Every single one of you shits has a badass in you, you just gotta find it! Unlock it, channel it and kill shit with it! Be like Garrus Vakarian and rip that stick from your ass and beat the enemy to death with it!"

"I heard that!" shouted the turian in the background. Marcus silently chuckled.

"That's the point, dumbass!" Jack shouted back, "Now go back to your sniper rifles, pussy! Let us do the dirty work!"

The lack of response only caused Marcus' grin to widen, "I think you hurt his feelings, Jack."

Jack leapt off the crate, standing up tall and crossing her arms, leaning back against it with a wicked smile, "Dino can get over it. Besides, I never said having a stick up your ass is a bad thing. Nothing quite like a secret weapon you're enemy aren't expecting. I'd love to see the look on Petrovsky's face if Garrus ever whipped out that thing."

I'm not sure I'd be composed either if I saw a turian pulling a sharpened stick out from his asshole. That's...not a pleasant sight.

"Well, there we have it," he raised his mug dramatically, "The key to defeating Cerberus: whip out the turian ass stick. Jack, you're a tactical genius."

She looked at him, smirking away, "Fuck yeah, I am! A psychotic biotic tactical genius, in full. But don't hand me the thanks...I'm not used to receiving praise of that magnitude. These little shits however..." she turned back to her kids, voice raised, "...could use a little after the ass kicking they've been giving! We are the Grissom Badasses, not the Academy Bronies! Get your hands up, Hillary! Nick, what the fuck are you doing!? You look like you're taking a shit, not using biotics! Thin out that stance and practice more of those biotic punches! Chen, I have no idea what battle tactic involves hugging Aihly, but if you don't stop it, I will kick your ass! Both of you, seperate and starting practicing barriers: I see you do that again, and I'm going to assume that's what you're doing! Dunston, Jake, Josh! That is not a shockwave! Whatever that pussy shit is, it'll barely slap a varren, let alone tear apart a brute! Remember Dekuuna, all of you! When you think of that day, I want you to close your eyes, take a deep breath and think of nothing but that day. Think of what the Reapers did there. Let it make you angry, let it make you furious, and then take control of it! Stick up your asses, people! Rage equals stick! Beat shit to death with that rage!"

No reply was needed, the students simply returning to what they were doing. Frowning, Marcus turned to her, wondering what she referred to, "You keep mentioning Dekuuna. You guys were there?"

She nodded, not looking all too happy to talk about it, "Happened a couple of weeks ago. Reapers came back to Dekuuna in force, and the UGC decided to simply evacuate the planet. Me and my kids were part of the evacuation forces with the order of holding one of the firebases tasked with the evac. We were on the frontlines, Marcus...we saw fucked up shit that would make your skin crawl and your stomach churn. I've never seen anything like it. No matter how many husks you killed, there was hundreds to replace them. It was like a living tidal wave...you can throw pebbles at it, but that shit won't fucking stop. Ever."

He remained silent, nodding solemnly, "I read the reports. A pyrrhic victory."

Jack hung her head low, looking none too happy about it, "The firebase we were protecting was overrun. We were forced to retreat, and as a result, hundreds of civilians didn't make it. We managed to get off world, but the official estimates range from a few thousand to just over one hundred thousand evacuated. We didn't make a fucking dent. In the end, the evacuation was completed, and four hundred thousand, out of the six million we were tasked with saving, escaped. Four hundred fucking thousand."

That's just under seven percent...

"I..." any amusement he had was lost, shaking his head, "I didn't know you were there, Jack. I only saw the after action reports once I got back from Rannoch. UGC casualties were heavy, but the civilian death toll was...catastrophic."

She nodded, arms crossed, "You should have seen the elcor ambassador, Marcus. I was there. Somehow, I felt like the fault lay with me...like we weren't good enough. I went to see him on the Citadel, and...the elcor aren't very good at their emotions, but I could have sworn I heard him choke up. Poor bastard," she sighed, wiping her eyes as if tears had been building up there, "I fucking hate the Reapers, Marcus. I want to kill every last one of them. But right now, I'm going to pretend like Dekuuna was Cerberus' fault. Because you know what? It was, in a way. While Dekuuna and Earth are under siege, Cerberus is playing dictator here on Omega. Humanity's sword, my ass."

The Illusive Man may think he's protecting humanity...that he's saving us...but he's wrong. He's indoctrinated and doesn't even realize it. How can he not see the irony? Cerberus is supposed to defend humanity and preserve it, yet Earth has fallen to the Reapers and he's doing everything he can to stop us from retaking it. Perhaps like Saren he's too far gone to realize the cognitive dissonance of his actions.

"Well, that's going to change, Jack," Marcus declared, causing the biotic to raise her eyebrows at him, "If we win this war, we're going to really shake up the Cerberus war machine. So far, they've been hounding us with impunity. Every defeat we've suffered upon them has done nothing but mildly irritate them. Snatching Omega from the Illusive Man's hands...he's going to feel that. We're going to make him feel it. We're going to snatch away his station, forty thousand troops and not only his best general, but the commander of his entire military. We've already destroyed an entire fleet...so we're already well on the way to victory."

A large grin slowly peeled across her lips, and she nodded with growing confident, "I do miss your speeches, Marcus: you may talk too much, but at least you know how to inspire some ass kicking. Always did want to hit Cerberus where it hurts...blowing up an abandoned base with a nuke just wasn't satisfying enough. Helping you slaughter the boarding crew of a corvette didn't cut it. Hell, slipping out of their reach along with my students was satisfying, but not awesome. Wiping out an invasion force on the Citadel...awesome, but not the creme de la creme. This? Forty thousand lapdogs and the Illusive Man's top general to kill? Gets me all giddy," she turned back to the Academy kids, raising her voice once more, "Shout if you shitheads are giddy!"

All the students shouted in response, "Giddy to kick ass, ma'am!"

Jack just chuckled, "I'm sorry Rodrigez, was that a squeak I heard!?"

"Screw you, ma'am!"

Marcus and Jack laughed in response, both turning to each other, "You've been through a lot in just a few months, Jack. I think you like having them depend on you. To look up to you."

Jack just shrugged nonchalantly, remark already on hand, "Well, I learnt alot of it from you...always coming down to talk to me. I looked up to you. All of us did, even if you were a bit of a boy scout."

A shake of his head, smile still present on his face, "King of the boy scouts, remember?"

Jack sighed, rubbing her temples with a slight giggle, "Yes, King of the boy scouts. Probably could have come up with a better nickname. That one's gone straight to your head."

He frowned, taking the pause in conversation to slurp up another gulp of coffee, folding his lips so he could savor the taste. Lowering the still steaming cup, he turned back to her, still frowning, "Wait...when did you start calling me that?"

Jack paused for a moment, tongue poking at the innermost section of her cheek as she pondered the question, "Shit, can't remember. Was sometime after you 'liberated' me from Purgatory and you started coming down for those 'enlightening' conversations we had. When you started showing what a swell guy you were."

He pouted, looking away, "I am a swell guy. I let you access all those Cerberus files, didn't I? I had no idea who you were, and my first impression was that you were just another thug, but I gave you access anyway. Isn't that just...swell?"

Jack was silent for a moment, before she finally nodded, uncrossing her arms to turn to him fully, bracing against the crate, "Yeah...you did. I didn't understand at the time why you would do that. You didn't know me, I didn't know you. The cheerleader I hated from the get go, but at least Jacob was at least smart enough to steer clear of me. Those files...I found a lot. Of course, EDI let me find much, much more after we blew the Collectors to hell and told the Illusive Man where to stick it. Even Liara, after she became the Shadow Broker, passed on some files to me. I...found out what happened to my family...the life I was stolen from."

His smile died, becoming sombre as he sipped at his coffee again, feeling the caffeine begin to kick in, "You don't have to tell me, Jack, but you never did discuss what you found. Did it hurt...knowing about a life you never lived?"

She nodded, inhaling deeply, "I didn't know what to feel. It was so surreal...it was like I was reading the life of somebody else, somewhere else. I felt disconnected from it...it didn't feel like that could be me. But it was. All of it was," taking another deep inhale, she stood up, one arm propping her up, "I was born on Eden Prime, funnily enough. My real name is Jacqueline Nought, and my parents were Yvette and Kris Nought. My birthday is May 2, and I was born in 2161, making me 25 this year. I apparently 'died' as the result of element zero exposure at the school I went to. Truth is that I was exposed to element zero, but Cerberus, as cover for abducting me, faked my death. My parents...I had no idea what happened to them until I searched them up recently. My mother killed herself, and my father fought in the Eden Prime Resistance...where he was killed by Cerberus troops before you liberated it."

He was silent for a few moments, stewing over the information he had been given. A few moments passed, followed by a few more, before Jack finally broke it, clearing her throat awkwardly, "But hey, who gives a shit. All of that is ancient history. I never got to live that life, and I have to live with that."

He shook his head, reaching out as he gripped her shoulder, "Jack, don't simply shrug that off. You were kidnapped and experimented on. You lived a life of crime. You were used and thrown away. You can't just act like finding out about your past is like looking at an extranet codex. That was your life. If you need to talk about it..."

She shook her head, waving him off, "It's fine, Marcus. Don't need some boy scout to tell me it'll be alright: I know it'll be alright. I learnt all of that shit months ago...I've had time to process it. I've accepted that my parents died because of Cerberus, my life was ruined because of Cerberus, and now I'm going to kill every single Cerberus motherfucker I come across. I've got it all sorted out. And to end it on a soft note, I'm going to find the Illusive Man and mount his head on my living room wall...once I get a house. Everybody who's ever fucked me over is dead...Cerberus will be no exception, no matter how big and untouchable those assholes think they are."

More silence, followed by Marcus letting go of her shoulder. Eventually, he turned back to her, smiling stupidily, "So...I just realized. Jack...the name you made for yourself. That's just the start of your real name."

The biotic laughed, genuinely amused as she turned and crossed her arms again, "Yeah. When I came up the name, I was actually trying to remember mine. For so long they'd just called me 'Subject Zero', but once I was free...I wanted a real name. I tried to remember mine...Jack is what came up. Maybe I could only remember what the start of my name sounded like that, and I attached myself to that."

He creased his lips, nodding as he scratched the side of his head, crossing his arms in a posture imitating Jack's, both of them turning back to her students, "Guess you hadn't forgotten everything have you? So...do I call you Jacqueline or Jack?"

The biotic snorted, looking at him as if he was insane, "Could you imagine ever calling me that? That shit's a fucking mouthful. Just stick to Jack. Prefer to keep it that way. Like I said...that was my past life. This is my new life. Maybe, had Cerberus not abducted me, I might be the nice little girl Kahlee wants me to be...but I guess you'll just have to stick with this foul mouthed bitch forever, Marcus. I ain't going anywhere."

He laughed, turning to her as she smiled warmly, "Truth be told Jack, I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't think I could imagine you trying to play nice."

"Good. Dress me up in a skirt and makeup and see how long I stay sane. I'd kill every fucker in the room who put me in it to start with, and then I'd rip apart telling me to stop swearing. You want perfect? Stick to Tali."

He whistled, bowing over as he pretended to have been shot, "Shit Jack, you wound me. Don't let Tali hear that, though. She's not quite as innocent as she used to be back in the day. I think she takes after you."

That caused the biotic to stop for a moment, as if remembering some distant, painful memory. Marcus had a feeling he knew what it was, but before he could speak, the biotic was already talking, voice lowered, "Marcus, about what happened before you were...incarcerated...I just want you to remember I've gotten over that shit. No need to worry about me losing my shit again."

He turned to her, raising one eyebrow, "What incident?" He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he had tried his best to forget it had happened. Jack had owned up to her mistake, and the two had gotten over it. No ill feelings were held towards the other, and honestly, Marcus was surprised she had even bothered bringing it up again. It was a sealed wound...why reopen it?

She looked at him for a second, gauging his honesty. A moment later, and she nodded, turning away with a shake of the head, "Yeah, you're right. Fucking hell...don't even know why I brought it up. Best to leave it in the past...besides, I heard you two have a future killing machine bawling and screeching on Rannoch. I'd love to hear how that shit happened."

Marcus just chortled, cheeks flaring up, "Yeah...me and Tali are still trying to figure out how to deal with that. We didn't expect to become parents so early. With the war and everything...we miss him, but we felt it was the right choice to leave him behind. No place for a baby on a frontline warship."

The biotic motioned to her students, pointing at them even, to emphasize her following point, "These guys...they're gone. Some of them are still mentally babies, but they know how to pick up a weapon and shoot it. I've seen them tear apart husks with their biotics. They can cuss, they can scream, they can walk. I can justify bringing them into a fight. You're kid? He can't even walk. I could never hear you justify bringing him into the thick of this...so you did the right thing, if it means anything coming from me. I feel better on your behalf just knowing that little screamer is far away from the fighting. Rannoch's about as safe as you can get at the moment."

The N7 nodded, gulping down the last of his coffee as he placed the cup back on the crate behind him. Jack noticed this and quickly downed hers, and the two of them sighed in relief as newfound energy flowed through their bodies, giving them what they needed to storm through the day, "Thanks Jack. You're not the first I've heard say that, but I'm glad you're not the last. Besides...give me and Tali one more reason to keep fighting. To try and survive this damn war. Knowing we've got an entire life together waiting at the end of the road...it's invigorating. I just wish the Reapers would just flop dead so we can get there a bit quicker."

A laugh, followed by her sighing heavily, "So hurry up and fucking win this war! That, or you could politely ask the Reapers to defeat themselves! Fuckers could do with a bit of a polite shove in the right direction. A little more 'fuck off' and a lot less 'you guys suck, wah.' Show those Reapers that we aren't push overs this time 'round."

He patted her on the back, although the biotic look mildly unimpressed by the action. Pulling away, he gulped, squaring his shoulders. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he hadn't even addressed Jack's motivations for fighting, "So what motivates you, Jack? Is there a special someone you're fighting for?"

"What are you, Kelly Chambers? Getting all touchy feely and all about feelings, are we?" the biotic snarkily snapped. He continued to look at her with a 'give me the goods' type face, and in the end, she did break, "Ergh...fine. No, there isn't: I would never be involved in something so perfectly sappy. My motivation is the promise of a dead Cerberus and and an even deader Reaper armada. I haven't got a home waiting for me anywhere, Marcus. These kids are what I've got now. Maybe I'll get to see them graduate. It would be nice to see them become uber badasses, just like me."

Still, he continued to insist, "Well, there must be something you've been doing inbetween missions and when on shore leave," he mused on what to say next, before remembering a particular thing he had picked up Jack on doing back during the campaign against the Collectors, "What about poetry? Still trying to get a piece submitted to Galactic Poetry Monthly?"

A long, drawn out groan, before the biotic turned to him angrily, "I finally got a piece submitted, but it didn't make the cut. Not even in the Top 20s. Although I suspect it had something to do with the cunt who runs it...I think her name is Megan McAaron. She's a bitch. Turned down every single one of my submissions. Said they were too 'dark and depressing', and that they only promote 'happy thoughts and positivity.' My most recent wasn't garnering too much approval either."

"Can I see it?" Marcus asked, genuinely intrigued. Must be pretty bad if even they don't want to see it. Although considering Jack's vibrant, colourful personality, who wouldn't accept it? I'm sure its full of vulgar language and lines upon lines of poetic descriptions of husk killing that would be more fitting in a training manual for marines.

She frowned at him, "Seriously?"

He nodded, trying to look entirely seriously, "Absolutely."

With a final sigh, she brought up her omni-tool, typing a few keys before bringing it up, craning her arm so he could see it, "Laugh, and I'll rip your head off."

He held up his hands defensively before leaning in to read it, eyes scanning over the few lines of text that made up her poem. It didn't take him long to see why it was ranked so low.

My soul

Burns

With a fire of darkness

Quenched only in the pain

Of loneliness

I hold my breath waiting

Until spots appear black as the past

And fill my lungs with lies of hope

I mark myself

Black and jagged

To cover the scars

That make me a monster

A warning

This is not a place of honor

No esteemed dead are buried here

Reading over it twice just to make sure he had read it correctly, he pulled back, nodding his head dumbly as he continued to think over what he had just read. Jack pulled back her arm and deactivated her omni-tool, arms crossed and now waiting, perhaps impatiently, for his response.

"Well..." he began.

He didn't even get a chance to finish. "So it wasn't lovey dovey, beauty and rainbows, but it was a fucking poem. Took me three months to come up with something I actually liked. I tried to be happy and pretty...but it made me sick. Besides, the poem is about me. About who I am. There's nothing happy about that. Poetry is about inner thoughts, not being a fucking journalist: I'm not going to twist how I feel to suit what they want."

"...I was going to say it was pretty depressing, but that the poem itself is actually not that bad," he stated, crossing his own arms, causing the biotic to stop dead in her tracks, "I don't think its the quality that got it rated so low. It was because they don't understand your story, Jack. For all they know, you could be writing about suicide. If I didn't know you, that's the impression I'd get. Not exactly something you'd want on a site about people sharing their poetry skills, whatever the context."

"Yeah, well..." Jack stumbled, before slamming both hands into the back of the crate, "Fuck. Maybe you're right. Still doesn't excuse them for being pussies about it, though."

Before he could properly respond, he heard the heavy thuds of metal on metal approaching them. Turning, Marcus and Jack watched as the hulking form of a geth prime walked towards them, Marcus immediately recognizing him as Moses, the prime having had itself painted black to help him distinguish himself from the other geth around him. The geth closed the gap fairly quickly, coming to a complete stop before them.

Straightening up, he looked back up at the geth, his eyes meeting its optics, "What can I do for you, Moses?"

The prime's response was instant, "I have been tasked with passing on important information to you, as you are the commanding officer of this operation. Scouts have reported a marked increase of Cerberus activity in the Tuhi district. They appear to be making a move, Shepard-Commander."

His eyes widened, and he didn't need to turn to realize Jack had shot back up, barking at her students to drop what they were doing and prepare for action. Marcus silently thanked her, frowning up at the geth, "What can we expect? How big is the enemy force and are they aware of our location?"

Moses nodded, "Scouts report enemy force is large. Suspected to be at least two-"

Before the geth could be finished, a set of explosions sent tremors throughout the bunker, causing Marcus to stumble slightly before regaining his footing. Sounds of heavy guns in the distance could be heard, their loud, rupturous assault booming throughout the district as they fired upon the bunker...indicating what was likely to be heavy artillery. The second salvo of shells burst along the bunker's exterior, the sound much more deafening than before, and causing the UGC forces assembled to scatter in preparation for their defense.

The unmistakable sound of SX3 Thunderbolt fighters could be heard souring above them, the screech of their engines being heard seconds after they had already past. Behind them, the rumble, more laboured grumbles, of SX7A Hornet bombers steadily followed, their payload whistling through the air before slamming into the side of the base, their carpet bombing tearing a long stretch across it. Luckily, Aria's base was a bunker, and therefore was capable of surviving, to a limited capacity, any sort of bombardment short of a MAC or WMD. Gunfire sounded outside, followed by the wail of kodiak shuttles and A-61 gunships preceding it as Cerberus troops likely rained all over the ground in their deployment.

In just one quick swoop...they were under siege.

Grabbing the helmet hanging at his side, he slotted it over his head, bringing his HUD online. As he did this, klaxons sounded all over the base, with Bray shouting over the PA for all forces to prepare defenses and repel the Cerberus assault. Bringing up his omni-tool, Marcus quickly gained access to the PA, with Moses' help, and spoke, "All UGC forces, reinforce the main entrance and await further orders. Do not attempt a counterattack. If you find a breach, plug it but do not advance! If my squad can hear me, assemble by the entrance! Any forces outside, bunker down and await reinforcements! Do not let them through! 1st Aralakh, we need heavy weapon crews outside immediately to repel enemy armor and aircraft. On the double everyone, move!"

Switching off his omni-tool, he turned to Moses, motioning for the geth to follow. Running back towards his mattress, he needed to grab his weapons so he could participate in the defense.

For the first time since their invasion, they were on the defense now.

{Loading...}

August 6, 2186

0718 hours.

Forward Entrance, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega.

Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District.

Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling.

Her shields sparked, her HUD blaring angrily at her as it desperately informed her of the now non-existent kinetic barriers she possessed. Luckily, she wasn't far from cover, the quarian sliding down behind a rather large support frame for the bridge, more gunshots slamming harmlessly into the cover she now rested behind. While her shields took a moment to recharge, she holstered her geth plasma shotgun and pulled out her arc pistol, popping her head out ever so briefly to scan for a target.

Luckily for Tali, there was no end to them. Cerberus troops dashed across the bridge, a squad of nine assault troopers led by a centurion firing their assortment of rifles, shotguns and SMGs as they crossed. Two nemesi on the opposite side provided cover fire for their advance, their Raptor sniper rifles sending semi-automatic bursts of high velocity lead slicing through the air to slam into the trio of geth troopers still stuck in the open. They didn't last long, their optics bursting and pieces of armoured chasis chipping off as they collapsed to the ground, dead.

Locking onto the centurion, she held down the trigger, watching as the pistol in her grip slowly built up electrified energy, observed by the white ball of crackling fury building at the tip of the barrel. The vibration became intense enough that Tali knew it was ready, and without waiting any longer, she released the trigger. She watched as an instantaneous tendril of electricity leapt from the barrel and immediately grasped the centurion. His kinetic barriers were overloaded from the impact instantly, forcing him to stop and duck, raising his mattock to look for the person responsible...

...only for him to cry out as a particle rifle burst caught him in the side, the searing hot energy blackening his armor as it melted through it and pierced him through the side of his hip. He fell to his left side, stumbling to get up as the cough of a Valkyrie rifle impacted with his skull, putting him down for good.

Pulling back behind cover, she nodded to Javik and Keeling, both of them now crouched behind her, who had helped her finish off the centurion. Despite their sniper support, the rest of the squad were quickly cut down as the quarian engineers present fired their SMGs into them, aided by the geth snipers present, who kept the two nemesi pinned and helpless to assist.

Tali turned to the engineers, one of which was dead, a hole through their faceplate, blood pooling all around their motionless corpse, which had landed flat on their back: brains blown out by a suprise shot from a nemesis. Another had been shot in the gut and died a few seconds later, their body leaning against a piece of cover, hand cradling their belly, head lowered limply. while another had been clipped on the shoulder, but had patched themselves up. Out of the seven engineers present, only five were still alive, "Stay in cover! If you're going to help, then blind fire! We can't risk losing anymore!"

"Cerberus sniper eliminated," a geth sniper announced, crouching back behind cover as he placed a fresh thermal clip into his Javelin rifle, "Additional Cerberus troops are advancing. We need reinforcements to hold off additional assaults."

Tali shook her head in dismay, still unable to wrap her head around at the sudden change of events. One moment she had been helping an engineer, Fel'Vea, try and coordinate with Ahz on how to best utilize the bunker's power supply to activate the external defenses: without them, they would be helpless against an attack. And as if summoned or aware of their weakness, a massive air and ground assault from Cerberus had swung itself across the courtyard, an army of human bodies in white and gold SPARTAN armor charging them with the intent of taking that bridge.

Tali would not allow that to happen.

The assault was definitely well coordinated: no doubt Petrovsky's doing. Four Cerberus companies had opened the assault, swarming in from every angle of the courtyard as their artillery, hidden behind buildings and unseen, launched a full-scale bombardment of the bunker. Most of the shells completely missed their position and slammed into the structure towering over them, but Tali had no doubt that was the intention. Seven of their original geth guard contingent had immediately fallen as they charged, with the rest of them forced to cover within moments of the attack beginning.

Establishing defensive positions, Cerberus was content to send wave after wave of troops at them, likely as somekind of attrition or probing attack. The bridge was already littered with over a dozen dead, but considering the size of the force they were facing here, that seemed to barely dent their numbers. They just kept increasing: several more companies, then a few battalions, and eventually a full regiment of two thousand men was baring down on them.

And they weren't alone.

Launching from all sides, A-61 Mantis gunships descended upon them, deploying additional troops whilst also assaulting their positions from above. The already active AA on the bunker's exterior was doing a good enough job of keeping them out of range, but if those turrets fell or ran out of ammo...their position would be overwhelmed. A squadron of kodiak shuttles also swung by, landing on the rooftops to deploy snipers, combat engineers, dragoons, Rampart mechs and even Atlas exoskeletons. And above, fighters shot by too fast to pinpoint, the bombers they were escorting running sorties as they bombarded the bunker from above in addition to the artillery already attacking in the distance.

From all sides, the bunker was under assault from troops, mechs, gunships, fighters, bombers...it was a siege on all accounts...and one in which the OLF was caught with its pants down. Their only saving grace was that the courtyard had no avenues large enough for armoured vehicles to fit through, meaning the enemy regiment's tanks were unable to support them directly. Unfortunately, they simply had the artillery to supplement that.

Her comm crackled, Tali taking the time to answer and realizing it was Marcus. Hand raised to her helmet, she spoke, "Mark! We're getting hammered out here! There are Cerberus soldiers all over the place! Thousands of troops, possibly more! There seems to be no end to them!"

"I know!" he shouted back, sounding frantic, "I'm heading to the command center to coordinate with Aria on how best to defend the bunker. Are Keeling and Javik with you at least?"

"Yes!" she spared a moment's glance towards the two of them, Javik using his biotics to pull an assault trooper off the bridge while Keeling tossed a frag grenade into another advancing squad. The resulting blast sent four more troopers flying off the bridge to their deaths, while the rest were severely wounded or outright missing limbs: either way, the geth quickly put an end to them, adding to the pile of bodies growing on the structure, "They were about to go out on patrol when the attack hit!"

His response was instant, "Good, keep them with you. I'm splitting the squad up: I'm sending James, Moses, Kaidan and EDI your way: they'll help you hold the bridge. Golo's sending some primes and additional geth reinforcements to assist as well. The rest of the squad will stay with me in case I need them," after a moment, his voice lowered, sounding worried, "You stay safe, you hear? Don't take any unnecessary risks. Keep your head down."

She nodded, responding ever so softly, "You too. Just get us those reinforcements so we don't get overwhelmed out here and I'll be able to help you on that 'staying safe' front."

"You got it. We've also got that geth tank of ours, so I'll get that revved up and sent your way," after a few moments, he barked, this time more angrily, "Why the hell aren't those defense turrets online? We've got active AA, but none of those bridge turrets are active at all! We need them online if we're going to push them back!"

She nodded, turning to the engineers on the other side and signalling to them, motioning to the turrets before making a hand signal to them motioning for the engineers to activate them. They nodded, some of them holstering their weapons and whipping out omni-tools, rapidly tapping at them as they made their attempts at activation, "I've got my engineers working on it now. But I don't know how much better we'll be with them, Mark! They just keep coming!"

"Here they come! It's another assault!" Keeling shouted, crouching on one leg and raising her rifle, firing at targets Tali couldn't see, "Open fire! Don't let them cross! Protect the engineers! Javik, use your biotics to thin them out, I'll cap those you don't get!"

"Understood!" the prothean snapped in response, body wreathing in green liquid fire as he stood up and delivered his biotic ultimatum.

"Got to go, their launching another wave," Tali responded, "Hope to see you on this bridge soon, Mark."

"Feeling's mutual. Shepard out." The comm cut just quick enough for Tali to stand, raising her pistol and quickly charging up an electric charge. The bolt lunged out, this time impacting an unshielded assault trooper, causing him to scream and spasm as his armor systems entered a frenzy, the electricity coursing through him no doubt also giving him a nasty shock. She cried out however as she suddenly knocked back by a burst of biotic energy she didn't see coming. She caught herself, rolling backwards until she entered a crouch.

She caught the dragoon responsible in her sights, only for his head to jerk to the side, body stuttering slightly as a massive gaping hole was blown through the back of his skull, courtesy of a quick thinking geth sniper. Standing for a few more moments, the newly created corpse eventually slumped to the deck, Hornet slipping from his cold, dead fingers.

Unfortunately, Tali could see this nenewed assault would not be deterred. An entire platoon was being hurled at them, with an additional six nemesi moving into support positions. The geth sniper that had saved her rose from cover to fire again, only to be ganged up on by four nemesi as they fired high powered Raptor rounds into his optics, blowing them apart, white liquid spraying the engineer behind him as he fell back from the force of the blows.

The enemy platoon was almost ontop of them, Javik's biotics now barely halting their advance.

Then, the door behind them unlocked, and opened...

"Don't let them cross that bridge! Drive them back!" Kaidan barked as he was the first to emerge, flanked by the towering forms of three geth primes. He immediately opened fire with his M-9 Usurper assault rifle, body encased in the orange, luminescent glow of his tech armor, enemy fire pinging uselessly off of him as automatic fire managed to shred an assault trooper, before his colleague was violently thrown backwards by an impact of biotic energy, tumbling off the bridge after his head connected with the edge, snapping his neck from the brutality of the instantaneous impact.

The primes advanced in triangle, with Moses forming the tip, their pulse cannons thundering as they delivered devastating payloads of concentrated plasma. An entire rank of assault troopers were decimated in seconds, causing their advance to stutter from the sudden butchery. Drones hovered at their sides, incineration projectiles launching out in a triad to slam into the one dragoon, leaving him helpless as both shields and armor failed him simultaneously, the trooper shaking and collapsing to the floor as flames ravaged his body, burning him alive.

As Kaidan joined the engineers on the other side, James and EDI joined him, the former's Revenant LMG complimenting the latter's Executioner pistol perfectly.

The primes made short work of the enemy platoon that had been so close to victory, killing the stragglers as they attempted a fighting retreat, only to blown apart by plasma bolts. All of this was done before the additional geth reinforcements even arrived: two dozen shock troopers, arriving both sides of the doorway, moved into position with a dozen combat drones in support. And, the crowning jewel of their rescue: the large, hovering form of the Normandy's new geth tank, its main gun lowered over the bridge and ready to annihilate those foolish enough to dare a crossing.

Unfortunately however, this did not mean Cerberus was going to relent.

Like the sound of a descending eagle zooming in on its prey, the screech of enemy aircraft could be heard approaching from the far west. Everyone looked up at once as they watched an echelon of SX3 Thunderbolt fighters head directly for them. Eyes widening, Tali knew what was coming.

She whorled to the rest of them, Tali knowing the only had mere moments to act, "Everybody, get down!"

Keeling noticed it too, "Enemy fast movers! Duck and cover!"

Ducking under their AA's flak, the fighters skillfully lowered upon their targets. Pulling up at the last minute, their frontal cannons opened fire, muzzle fire lighting up on both of their wings, hard hitting rounds raking across the ground and barely missing them. Large holes were torn into the deck plating from the sheer firepower of the rounds making impact, and it was only by sheer luck that they missed their salvo. Pulling up, they shot past the UGC defenders, the back blast from their departure causing her to shiver from the amount of wind blowing at her suit, her veil temporarily hovering before lowering once more. The supersonic boom was heard moments later, the quarian thanking her auditory emulators for quickly adjusting to the loud sound.

Keelah, that was close.

And still, it wasn't over.

"Incoming gunships!" Kaidan shouted, "These don't seem to care about the AA either! Heavies, up front! Take them down!"

Just as the major pointed out, a pair of A-61 gunships left their perches on the rooftops, dodging anti-aircraft fire to rapidly approach them. Their M25 chin-mounted autocannons quickly whirled to life, locking onto targets and tearing into them. One of them, the one to the west, tried firing on Tali's position, but Javik raised a biotic barrier fast enough to block the attack, causing its usually crippling assault to bounce harmlessly away. The east gunship locked onto one of the primes, which had likewise also locked onto it.

The prime's shields are battered relentlessly, his combat drone completely destroyed from the initial rounds. Still, he gave as good as he took, pulse cannon locked onto the Mantis and hammering its own barriers in earnest. The gunship was quickly winning out however, its side to side movement allowing it more maneuverability than its two-legged target. Shields gone, the prime finally succumbed to the gunship's firepower, pieces of his armor blown away as the autocannon now shredded him. Within moments, he slammed to the ground, bullet holes riddling his chest and hissing from the heat of the rounds used.

The second prime was quick to react. Raising his pulse cannon, he finished the job the first prime started, destroying the gunship's shields. Turning around, the VTOL audibly primed its Xiphos 34 rocket pods, desperate to save itself. The other gunship was kept busy by Moses, who was quickly joined by James, who had whipped out an ML-77 missile launcher to join his fire with his geth comrade.

Two more pulse cannon bursts impacted the east gunship's outermost right wing, causing the engine attached to it to be blown off, the dismembered wing trailing smoke from the damaged systems. Listing heavily to its side due to the stabilizer engine on that wing now being gone, the pilot fought to regain control of his aircraft, giving his prime assailant ample time to keep up the assault.

In the end, it was a sniper that brought the VTOL down. Raising his rifle, he took aim at one of the rockets primed in the gunship's left rocket pod, the rounds piercing the rocket and causing it to detonate. The chain reaction destroyed the rest of the rockets within the gunship, tearing it apart. The resulting flashes were so bright that Tali's visor had to tint to shield her eyes from it, but all she could do was smile as the explosive chain sheared the Cerberus aircraft in half, pieces of jagged metal flying in all directions as the momentum of its previously operable engines sent it flying backwards, gliding past the bridge and plummetting down below, its flaming debris trailing thick smoke behind it.

The west gunship hadn't faired better. Flying away, Tali could see the right rear engine trailing smoke behind it, while its entire left side was blackened and had holes torn into it, likely from repeated missile fire. James and Moses tried to get a lock on it, but it was moving too fast for this to happen. Its M25 autocannon was jammed into a left facing position, rendering it useless, sparks flying from it due to the malfunction.

The second prime was unable to predict what would happen next.

Still dodging the AA guns line of sight, the gunship brought itself around, the pilot making one last bid to devastate their defenses. Two rockets primed, it fired them once in range, the projectiles darting towards the vulnerable second prime responsible for destroying its literal wingman.

The twin explosions sent Tali flying back a few inches, the quarian grabbing hold of the deck's safety barrier to stop herself flying any further. Looking up, she saw that the second prime had been completely destroyed, its flaming wreckage lying in a twisted, wrecked heap on the ground, smoke trailing from its destroyed corpse.

The gunship responsible was kissed by a red lance of energy, which immediately vaporized the cockpit upon impact (and, as a result, the pilot), tore a hole through the middle, and erupted out through the troop bay in the back, completely bisecting the damaged VTOL. A thunderous explosion followed as its fuel detonated, columns of flame erupting onto the air as the gunship was obliterated, wreckage careening out of view.

Sitting up behind her cover, Tali turned to see the geth tank was responsible, smoke trailing from the barrel of its main gun. Trying to assess the situation, she holstered her pistol and got out her shotgun, checking to make sure it was loaded. Seating it in her lap, she assessed the situation. In their most recent attack, Cerberus had lost several squads, an entire platoon and two of their gunships: not crippling, but it did prove the UGC defenses would not falter so easily. The enemy artillery and bombers were still very much active and making their presence known, hammering the bunker like there was no tomorrow. Enemy troops were establishing themselves in the courtyard, fortifying their positions and preparing themselves for a counter charge. More and more shuttles arrived, ferrying in fresh soldiers, supplies and mechs seemingly every minute. It was quickly becoming clear that Petrovsky had at least two regiments committed to this assault.

That was either just under or just over four thousand troops. A large number.

If he's as smart as T'Loak says he is, then he's doing this for one reason: he hopes to end this is one strike. Keelah, he must be pretty confident to make such a move. I just hope Marcus can hatch a plan to prove him wrong...because we're already down two primes and we only just got reinforcements...

Turning to the engineers, she activates their secured internal comms, not wanting to be heard by the Cerberus soldiers, "What's the status on those guns? Are they operational yet?" By the looks of them, they weren't: so far, they were proving to be more akin to lumbering, annoying hunks of metal that were just sitting there uselessly rather than something they could actually use to defend the bridge.

We activate those turrets, that bridge will become a killing field: Cerberus won't be able to cross without taking them out, and our AA will make short work of any large-scale air assault. And if we can just get our own forces airborne, we'll be able to supply some air support of our own...

"We need more time!" one of the quarians responded, "Something's blocking us, and we're working together to overcome it. Just ten more minutes and we should be good!"

Tali cursed their luck, gripping her shotgun with renewed purpose, "You've got six. Everybody, we need to hold this bridge until those turrets are online! Dig in and get ready for a long fight! Check thermal clips and find somewhere nice and cozy that's safe from enemy sniper fire...if you've got weapons with range, get into position to use them. If you're close quarters like me, get close to the safety barriers...I want you ready to kill those lucky enough to cross."

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, shutting out the sounds of gunfire and bombardment to draw upon her strength. For Mark. For Junior. For Rannoch. Keelah Re'lai. We will hold the line here, as Kirrahe would say. Hold the line, hold the line, hold the line. Keelah Re'lai!

Her eyes snapped open just as Kaidan's words left his lips, "Here they come! They're making another push!"

She darted up, shotgun raised and ready.

Bring it, you Cerberus bosh'tets.

"Would you say that assault was the largest of the Omega conflict? Alpha tries very hard to keep disclosure of Omega's more obscure history to a minimum. Especially to outsiders. Hence my curiosity: we know so little of the war that took place there."

- Reia'Inas pav Earth.

"It was. Until later on, it was the largest operation I'd ever personally commanded. It was a fucking shit show."

- Marcus L. Shepard.

"I held the line. I was there in the thick of it. So many troops being thrown at us..."

- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.

"It got better, and it got worse. Because Leng, that piece of shit...he was there. And he brought friends."

- Marcus L. Shepard.

A/N:

Didn't think I'd pump these chapters out at the rate I have been. Guess I've got extra motivation as of late to do them. The fourth and final part of "I Am His Instrument" is coming up next. Shit's getting spicy.

Until then,

Keelah Re'lai, troopers!