Chapter 7 Eden Prime

The serenity around the Exodus Relay cluster was despoiled by the arrival of a sleek ship, with two swept wings and an angular prow not too dissimilar to a bird of prey, the vessel swooped away from the relay, disappearing into the black of space as heat sinks engaged.

It was a strange vessel, combining the sleek seafoam green hull of a human ship with the red and silver jagged wings of a Turian hierarchy vessel. It lacked any visible armament, instead holding along its port and starboard side of its fuselage an array of sunken spots, that looked like the eye turrets on a chameleon. They spun and twitched as they took pictures and tested out their new bioelectric interfaces.

In the rear, the matter-antimatter annihilation torches burned cold, fed and directed by small nozzles on the wings. Ye the vessel moved with unnatural speed lacking the central annihilation torch typically used by military vessels. Instead, it seemed the vessel was falling through space.

It had exited the relay with only 1500 kilometers of drift, a good showing for the ship's maiden sortie.

"Good? Good?! I hit the target the size of a pinhead and he calls it good?" Jeff 'Joker' Moreau scoffed as his hands flew over the control panel, "Can you get this guy Pressly?"

Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko turned from his acceleration couch to look at the scowling carrier, "You're reading too much into it Joker." Alenko was a calm and reserved officer, with a clean-shaven face and black curly hair. His veins had a faint bioluminescent blue glow to them, and his eyes burned like coals when he used his interface implants. He wore his duty uniform, a plain grey blue affair that could be vacuum sealed at a moment's notice.

"Good is remembering to zip up your jumpsuit when you use the head, I," Joker turned in his seat and pointed to himself, "I hit the target the size of a pinhead halfway across the galaxy, that's incredible!" Joker himself was unsurprisingly unmodified. Being a carrier he had what you'd expect of an adult man. A pair of sharp squinty eyes sat under his flight cap, and he had a scraggly black beard that was well maintained despite first impressions. He also wore his duty uniform with braces on his limbs.

Pressly's voice emitted from the control panel, "Mr. Moreau please keep us on course." Joker grumbled as he turned back over in his seat, "I get you though, Hate the guy."

Joker presented his hands towards his viewscreen, "See Kaiden! Pressly gets it!"

"Yeah and Pressly voted for Terra Firma the last two decades, he'd hate our special cargo if it was an asari giving out blow- ahh, candy." Commander Hazel Shepard shot back, catching herself before she said something she'd regret in a week's time when the brass went over the audio and duty logs.

"So Mr. Moreau you got any complaints?" She asked raising an eyebrow, meeting his eyes through his custom-installed rearview mirror.

Joker met her eyes through said mirror, "None at all commander. She flies like a brand new Corvette!"

"Lieutenant Alenko?"

"Well besides Joker complaining about our special guest's choice of compliments, the communications report signals all clear and no traffic as per expected." Alenko bowed his head.

"Mr. Pressly, our course?"

"Laid out and ready ma'am, I have our docking waiver ready for you when you come by."

Shepard extended her arms in a magnanimous gesture, "See, no need to bitch and moan boys." She leaned against Joker's chair and looked out the vision slit of the cockpit compartment, "No need to complain at all."

Nihlus' footsteps echoed in the communications chamber. At first glance, one would think it a sort of briefing or conference room, an oval array of chairs sat around a floating holographic matrix that displayed ship data and communications. When one blinked and examined the walls, however, it looked closer to a gieger-esque nightmare. Brain-like tissue adorned the walls, throbbing and thinking as the biological computers conducted their mysteries on the ship's conduct and operation.

"Captain Anderson."

David Anderson nodded his head, "Please, take a seat." He didn't even look up from his tablet. The black British man had little hair to speak of, and the hair he did have for his eyebrow's and scalp blended almost seamlessly with his skin. He had pockmarks and damage from exposure and battle wounds, particularly the well healed burn scars Anderson had been covered in on Camala.

By the spirits that was nearly a decade ago by this point.

Anderson wore an officers uniform for the ICL navy, which meant it had more silver and gold piping and a ribbon board on his chest that held only his campaign ribbons. After all, head enough medals that one could, "Melt them down and make a life-sized statue of him".

"Respectfully Captain, I'd prefer to remain standing." He looked over to the human-designed chairs, while the Normandy had been laid down by Turian shipyards the Normandy's interior design had been installed by Humans. He didn't feel like getting another backache slouching in them.

Anderson looked up, then clasped his hands behind his back, tablet still in hand, "Do you know who my senior marine commander on this ship is?"

"Commander Hazel Shepard, crown princess to the throne of Great Britain and Ireland. Current Duchess of the Shanxi province of New Leichester. A veteran of multiple campaigns. Scored middle of her class in basic and top ten percentile in advanced training, has recently completed a series of deep strike operations in the terminus systems, striking several slaver gangs in particular who had raided human colonies in the Skylian Verge. I hear she deployed quote 'a big fucking rock' in one mission."

Anderson smiled, a jerk of the lips to unveil a row of incisors, "And you are Spectre?"

"Spectre Nihlus Kryik."

Anderson's smile didn't waver as he stepped up to the Turian, "Don't lie to me please, Spectre." He locked eyes and Nihlus could see the pupils swirl as Anderson used whichever customized organ he had to bring up the extranet in his vision.

Nihlus didn't speak, so Anderson spoke for him, "I've had a chat with a certain elusive individual who has given me your full file." Anderson brought said file up on his tablet and pushed it against Nihlus' chest, "Go ahead, give it a read."

Anderson stepped away and looked at the central viewscreen while his guest carefully read the document.

"Is anything wrong with it?"

"No, Captain."

Anderson grunted, "Commander Shepard will not hear a word breathed on this." He looked over his shoulder, "But all the same, don't provoke her."

"Joker, status report!" Captain Anderson boomed.

"Everything is green captain. Brace yourself, Nihlus is on his way." Shepard shook her head in annoyance as Joker spoke.

"He's already here pilot. Send the commander down to the communication chamber." Anderson grit out before the line clicked off.

"Phaff, well you heard the old man commander."

Shepard knitted her eyebrows tougher, "He sounds angry, something wrong you think?"

Joker cracked a grin, "Nah, he probably just hates me, it's how he always talks to me."

As Shepard marched from the pilot compartment, she could faintly hear Kaiden retort, "Can't possibly imagine why."

Hazel ignored them as her feet clanged against the metal gantry that hung over the tactical pits in the neck of the ship. Command chairs were slung to the walkway awaiting an occupant to man the various systems of the Normandy. She nodded to the few specialists manning their stations right now as she passed into the central command center.

It was much more open than she would have liked, struts and columns acted as aesthetic support beams between the hull and the deck as if guarding the central command dais that stood above everyone else. Unlike the ore lived in areas of the ship, the all-business metal and tile walls and floors of the command center lent it a mechanical air despite the organic additions made by the human crew.

At the head of the command dais and galaxy holoprojector was Pressly, laid into the cocoon of his station, his skull was bald and he had a thin grey goatee, "I'm just saying this is highly irregular." He declared as his body twitched, "A Spectre and Captain Anderson? One maybe, but not both."

Chief Engineer Adams' voice echoed out of Pressly's open mouth, "You're being paranoid Pressly. If you don't relax you're going to give your interface an ulcer, let alone yourself."

Shepard stepped up, "Commander Pressly."

Pressly's face twitched, and the interface speakers spoke for him, "Commander Shepard. The Captain is eager to speak to you."

Shepard rolled her eyes, "Pressy, you're a senior officer, does tact mean anything to you?"

Pressly twitched again, and his face formed a frown, "I'm just voicing what everyone is thinking." His interface echoed, "Although I do apologize."

"You don't need to apologize to me, our boys and girls already have enough on their plates for this ship, they don't need us senior officers looking nervous."

Pressly smiled a bit, "Oh it's not like our careers rest on the fate of the ship ma'am." A click click click emitted from his speakers, a dreamers way of laughing through an interface. "You are right though ma'am, I'll keep the talk more private. Anyways did you need anything specific?"

Shepard rubbed the back of her neck, pulling an interface tendon and snapping into one of Pressly's ports, her face twitched, "Well I've been on covert deployment for the last year, and the minute I got off the shuttle they shuffled me onto here. So while you're talking scuttlebutt I think I need my fair share."

Pressly laughed through their connection, "Well all anyone can talk about is the Normandy these days. It's scandalous in its own special way doing a joint venture with the Turians. Of course Ma'am, my lips have been sealed on the matter. I do take that seriously."

His face contorted into a thoughtful expression, "It's strange, if this is a shakedown cruise like we've been told, then why the full crew? Okay, Captain Anderson is being proactive and getting familiar with his ship, sure. A Spectre? Okay, maybe he's also being proactive and wants to get the tour and inspection out of the way of his busy schedule. But it'd be cheaper and better for info-sec' to have a skeleton crew. Its not like we're going right on the border of the terminus, and all our systems are up to ICL specifications and doctrine. The only unusual pieces of equipment, the drive and stealth system, can be handled by Mr. Moreau and Chief Engineer Adams. Me and my cadre, let alone Adam's second and third maintenance shifts, are going to be wasted if we're just going to dock in the Citadel for months while the PR teams get their shit in order." He did a full body shrug, "That's my thoughts on the ship itself. Otherwise, I think we have one of the finest vessels in the fleet."

"Well, anything new for the past year?" Shepard prodded.

"Besides the Normandy? Well, there is the recent human sightings in the Terminus systems. And the talks between us and the Citadellians regarding membership. Honestly, I think that's why we have a Spectre aboard. We could be just a convenient lift for him to the Citadel after he did some sneaker net running."

Shepard's face twitched, "What do you know about Spectres?"

"Not much more than what you can find on the extranet, they're special council agents with near-unlimited powers. The right hand willing to do everything to maintain peace and stability across the galaxy. While they don't exactly have the power of summary execution, people do have the right to defend themselves under Council Law, and they're officially required to give people a chance to surrender, most organizations don't ask questions when dead bodies turn up in their wake. Don't know much about our Spectre though, just his name, Nihlus Kryik." Pressly's body shrugged slightly, or it twitched, "From what I do know, he's been the special agent assigned to us humans for the last ten years. I assume the ICL trusts him a bit considering how often he runs into our affairs. Hell, you probably acted on intel from him when you did your deep dive in the terminus."

Shepard disconnected, "Thanks for the update Pressly. I should get going."

"Anytime commander." Pressly squirmed.

Rubbing her interface tendon on her neck, Shepard tried to blink away Pressly's visage from her mind, and the tendril halfway pressed into his skull socket.

Absently she entered the main lift for the ship, joining Doctor Chakwas and Corporal Jenkins, "Commander." They greeted her as the doors closed.

Jenkins, the ever-squirrely kid, broke the silence first, "So ma'am! What do you think we're up to here? Eden Prime isn't exactly a hotspot!"

Shepard rubbed her forehead, "Cool your jets Jenkins, if all goes well we're just doing a relay race and we'll be back at anchorage before dinner."

"Thats easy for you to say ma'am, you've been out in the thick of it. If all goes well for us we just take some pictures and run back to the fleet. I'm itching for some real action!" He kicked the lift floor, "and if our job goes well, we don't see real action." He added more glumly.

Chakwas frowned like a disapproving mother, "I sincerely hope not! Your kind of action results in a full sickbay and a few new bodies in the morgue."

Jenkins looked to Chakwas, guilty, "I-I don't want that obviously, but it's been nothing but drills and police operations."

Shepard patted the young man's shoulder, "You have a long career ahead of your Jenkins, don't screw it up by getting what you wish for."

"I won't screw it up ma'am! And I'd certainly not want anything to happen on Eden Prime. Just, you know, something on the way or back." Jenkins admitted, the guilt still on his face like a trainee who smuggled a chocolate bar into his berth.

Shepard patted his shoulder again as the lift stopped. She entered the communications chamber. On the walls, the interface berths remained unoccupied, the interface couches sat forlornly, and a Turian with black and white facepaint stood admiring a holographic display showing a verdant world.

Nihlus Kryik isn't what Shepard would call a particularly memorable bird. He was tall and lanky like most of his kind, and wore dark crimson armor. His face was perhaps one of the most striking Shepard had seen of the various designs Turians wore. It was black with white stripes, painted as if he was in mourning for something or someone.

He shifted from foot to foot as he broke the ice, "Eden Prime is a beautiful world."

Shepard shrugged, "I wouldn't know, I've never been."

"Yes." He touched a symbol on his omni tool and the holographic projection changed to show another photo, "They call it a paradise, serene, safe in the heart of human space." He looked over and met Hazel's eyes, "But is it really?"

Shepard bristled, "Are you making a threat?"

Nihlus raised an eye ridge in an eerily human gesture, "I'm simply positing the obvious Shepard, you have more than abundant evidence of the dangers that the galaxy provides. People certainly thought Elysium was safe but you can personally attest to how sudden a war can come to a planet."

Shepard looked away, "Or how about Akuze? Your League certainly wasn't expecting a giant worm to be such a threat, nor as prolific." His flanges extended in a smile, "Or how about your recent adventures on Torfan? I'm sure the Hegemony is going to be thrilled when the biggest mercenary moon in their territory is discovered to have a brand new crater and no survivors."

Hazel frowned, but she was spared from having to endure the awkward silence of her stoicism by Captain Anderson entering from his office, "I think it's about time we informed the Commander about today's mission."

Nihlus took a step closer to Shepard, "This mission is more than a shakedown cruise for our joint venture commander." He touched his omnitool again and the holoprojector showed an excavation site.

"We're making a covert pickup right outside the capital of Constant here on Eden Prime. Then delivering it straight to the Citadel." The picture changed to show some type of battered machine.

"We're keeping this low profile to avert any possible outside interference. I sincerely hope we can keep whatever trouble this will cause outside of human space." Nihlus said as a new picture came on the display, "This is a prothean communications hub. It may not look like much, but this here is possibly the biggest leap in technology this century."

The captain nodded, "In short commander, this is a high-value item, if anyone gets wind of this Eden Prime could be facing regular pirate raids for decades in the hopes of getting anything like this." Anderson finished with a decisive hand chop, "As far as anyone knows we're just picking up some soil and material samples as part of the shakedown cruise."

"For the safety of the colony?" Shepard confirmed.

Nihlus nodded, "If your people found a working prothean comms beacon, who knows what else is laying under the dirt? We're not being covert for the sake of it commander, this could mean the life and death of thousands of your people on Eden Prime."

Hazel took a deep breath, she could admit to herself this was not exactly how she thought this conversation was going to go down, "Alright, I understand. But why aren't we taking it to Luna or Arcturus? Why the Citadel?"

Anderson sighed, "We don't have the facilities to refurbish the device into working order, and galactic law is clear, all such finds should be shared with everyone for the greater good."

Nihlus's flared his flanges, "You humans also don't have the best reputations. This could be one of the last bricks laying that legacy to rest. Not to mention you benefit just as much as we do from whatever scientific discoveries we make from the beacon. Everything, the citadel, the mass relays, and even the faster-than-light drives we all use are derived from the Protheans. I know your people are dismissive of the idea that the protheans were some beneficent precursors, but I think you can see the value in information sharing between us. This ship is proof of that."

Hazel's tongue explored her teeth, and she tried to hide the sour look on her face, "I guess this explains why I was chosen for this mission."

"Besides your excellent mission record, your divorce from galactic society during your black ops missions made you the perfect officer to lead the ground element," Anderson agreed.

Nihlus cut in, "But that's not the primary reason for your selection."

"You've been chosen as a Spectre candidate." Hazel's frown deepened at Anderson's words.

Nihlus took a step back, and looked over the picture on the central holo display, "I know your history commander but I think because of that you have the makings of a fantastic Spectre, the Terminus has been heating up, and the Batarian Hegemony is threatening to separate from the Citadel Council over human expansion, and your people themselves haven't been a bundle of flowers either. I believe someone like you being the first human Spectre could be that final brick needed to show everyone that our people's shared past has been laid to rest. It's why I nominated you for Spectre appraisal."

Hazel's guard immediately raised, "Why would you put me forward? You know my family's history with the Hierarchy, Turian."

"It's for that exact reason Miss Windsor that I put your name forward. I've read your speeches," Hazel scoffed, "I know what this would have meant to your cousin."

Hazel speared him with a glare, "How? You never met him!"

The Turian paused, then pressed on, "No, but you knew him better than anyone else, would he have denied this opportunity to you and your species? This chance at reconciliation?"

Hazel looked away. "No… He wouldn't have." She admitted. "What do you have to gain though? Why would the council settle on a Turian deciding on this?"

"Not all Turians resent your species for what you've done. Many of us understand your desire for isolation and hesitance to reach out of your sphere of space. Some of us see the potential in your species and your unique physiology. Where the Asari see a diplomatic time bomb, and the salarians perversions of science, and yes my own people an enemy who executed our fellow soldiers like Saren Arterias and others, we see the opportunity your bio-organic technology can provide for the wider galaxy. Medi-gel is only the beginning, immortality is not just a possibility, but a certainty as demonstrated by your own people."

Nihlus gripped Shepard's arm, and uncrossed them for her, "Commander Shepard, I want to mend this rift between our peoples, and I think we're the two most qualified individuals for that."

Shepard nodded, not meeting his eyes.

Joker's voice cut in, "Captain! We have an alert from Eden Prime! Video and audio!"

"Put it on screen Mr. Moreau."

He did, and a pit formed in the bottom of Shepard's stomach at what she saw.

Alenko and Jenkins had formed up in the vehicle bay as the captain had ordered, "Captain what's going on?! Is Eden Prime under attack?!"

"Shepard, if you would explain the situation." Anderson prompted the woman.

"Okay listen up you two!" Shepard shouted, not for the benefit of her two marines, but for the entire ship's crew who were undoubtedly listening in, "Eden Prime is under attack by an unknown force, and we're the closest Alliance ship. We're just one frigate so there's not much we can do, but what we will do is accomplish our mission. On the planet is a prothean artefact we need to secure. We're going to establish a corridor between the monorail system and the spaceport and secure this objective. Once that's done we'll evacuate the wounded we find and send a recon report straight to our reinforcements. This is a mission the Normandy has been built specifically to accomplish, get in, get out, and send the information our big ships need to squash these attackers. Even if they flee to the depths of space we'll make sure they won't get away to cause us grief ever again."

Shepard nodded to Anderson, who began to give the technical aspects of the mission, the beacon, what it means for the ICL, and secondary objectives. Jenkins looked antsy, and Anderson specifically addressed assisting the local defenders and civilians as a priority second only to the beacon itself.

Nihlus fiddled with his rifle, it looked like a modified Colt M-81 DMR, he was festooned with accompanying ammunition packs, but he also had a Citadel Armory Phaeston as his backup, but she didn't give it two looks but was interested that he'd default to a human firearm as his primary service arm, "I'll be scouting ahead of your position Commander and secure the spaceport warehouses and cargo terminal, You recover the primary objective and I'll ensure the enemy doesn't escape with it." He shouldered on a jet pack and saluted with one talon before falling out the back of the ship.

"We're approaching the LZ sirs!" Joker announced on the PA, "I see firefights on the ground from up here so be ready to go in hot!"

Anderson patted Shepard's shoulder, "Good luck commander!" The Captain had done all he could to ensure the best chance for his ground team, and now he had to pass the baton of responsibility to his senior Marine.

Shepard gripped his hand and nodded behind her helmet. Anderson wasn't the first man she met who had the nerves of steel necessary for this line of work, but having only known him for less than a day, she knew he would be a fine superior.

They all grabbed a stanchion and felt the Gs applied to them through the inertial dampeners as Joker brought them in for a landing. Shepard and Anderson had a hand on each other's backs to steady themselves through the maneuvers.

Then they stopped, and the three marines jumped to the green field below. As soon as Shepard blinked the all-clear on their shared radio frequency, Joker zoomed away. In the distance, screams, gunfire, and explosions contrasted with this peaceful setting.

Shepard looked around to get a feel for their surroundings, it was a relatively open field, enclosed by the canopy of trees to the west and south, and the cliff face overlooking a distant arcology to the north, "Jenkins you're a native, you recognize this place?" Shepard barked out as she advanced towards cover in the form of some jagged car sized boulders strewn about the place.

"Yes- I mean no! Never been here before! My family used the space port on the other side of the colony!" Jenkins shot back, head barely aside his boulder looking for hostiles.

Shepard sighed, "Great. Mission control, do we have maps of the topography?"

"Mission control here," a synthetic voice called out, "We only have aerial photographs at this time. We estimate you to be one kilometer away from the dig site, Spectre Nihlus landed closer to the cargo terminal. Reconnessaicne drones report heavy hostile drone activity over the tree line, we are currently down to 20% drone assets."

Shepard growled, of course, they'd have drone superiority, "Understood mission control, any advisement on advance?"

"Do not hike over intervening terrain, enemy drone forces have concentrated their forces in broken terrain. Your best bet is skirmishing with hostile infantry in open terrain." Oh great, double fuck.

"Understood, moving out. Alenko, you're navigating, get us a waypoint to the beacon excavation site! Jenkins, you're on overwatch!" Shepard picked herself up and marched forward, rifle at the ready.

Thankfully their progress was not immediately impeded, as they passed a stagnant pond and emerged into a boulder-strewn overlook path. They moved forward by the numbers. Advance, cover, signal, advance.

It would have taken them five minutes to cross an open area barely a hundred meters distant when walking normally would barely take a minute, but their caution paid off when halfway through drones emerged all around. They were strangely similar in aesthetics to the ICL's own drone fleet, with sleek angles and round curves, a gravity pod with a weapon system slung underneath. They had elected to emerge when Jenkins was halfway through his dash to the next bit of cover.

Jenkins had been trained and drilled on just what to do, but caught between finishing his dash behind solid cover and eating the dirt by going prone, his hesitation was understandable. Then the mass effect accelerated rounds impacted his torso armor and the decision was made for him.

Throwing himself to the ground with a cry, Shepard and Alenko laid down fire in return.

These drones were designed with a strong shield and weak casing, to save on weight and maximize maneuverability and protection. They would have been tough customers to the magnetic acceleration rounds favored by most of the galaxy where it would have taken a two-second burst from an assault rifle just to down their shields. Indeed, if their shields got low they were programmed to jink into cover or behind terrain while the next wave of drones advanced. But against ICL rated firearms, a single burst of shots was all you needed to blow them out of the sky. Some prebattle retrofits had been added to them in the form of a few millimeters of additional shrapnel protection against said human-designed chemical combustion firearms.

Sadly not enough time to mass manufacture the totally new chassis needed for withstanding even a single direct hit from a full sized rifle round. Worse, this was not the mass-manufactured Marine or garrison troop firearms typically distributed to colonial guard or standard ICL army

With a series of cracks, drone after drone exploded. HVAP tungsten rounds the size of a grown man's middle finger pierced and exploded deep within the drone's fuselage, rapidly disassembling the eezo cores used to keep the devices aloft, let alone the sensitive electronics insides that were now full of shrapnel and explosives.

"Reloading!" Shepard cried out, as she finished emptying her ten-round mag and grabbed a new one.

"Covering!" Alenko called out, as he snapped shots at any entrepreneurial flankers, hitting only one drone but keeping the rest at bay. Then his arms rippled with blue light and he thrust a hand, a barrier shield erected left of Shepard just as a drone came around the boulder, unloading its SMG into the shield.

Alenko pulled his pistol free and shot it, then reholstered, "Reloading!" He echoed the cry as Shepard took his place. She needed to end this stalemate, they'd have more hostile drones than they would have rounds and the real threat was the advancing infantry she could spy just coming over the lip of the hill.

She took a risk, popping out a smoke grenade she tossed it to her right, as soon as it billowed out she went left as the enemy gunfire converged on the in hindsight obvious ploy. Who would be stupid enough to do that and not use their smoke?

By the time they reoriented, Alenko was laying down suppressive fire, and Shepard had gotten a good look at her attackers. They were bipedal, with a shroud covering their necks converging into a single giant eye that glowed. She shot the first one right in its eye, and the back of its 'head' exploded into shrapnel. They tried to move fire onto her position now, and the drones got more brazen, uncaring of casualties now they swarmed forward from all their hidden fire positions. They wanted to end this fight just as quickly as she did.

Fuck, this was it, even if Jenkins was still combat capable they didn't have the firepower to fight this off. They'd bumbled right into an ambush with no escape.

An inarticulate scream of rage and hate reverberated across the hills and trees, and a giant strode into the battle, right behind the infantry lightbulbs. They turned around in unison, a simulacrum of shock entering their robotic carapaces as the trailing rearguard was picked up by the leg and thrown into the rearmost fireteam.

The new contestant in this game of death stood nearly ten feet tall and wore a standardized hard suit for a normal ICL marine, just scaled up and with appropriately sized weaponry. Shit, Shepard didn't think the goliath program had exited testing yet!

The giant leveled their chaingun at the exposed squad of infantry and laughed as it squeezed the trigger. The manic cackling was cut off by the hellish cream of a support weapon meant to be mounted on a gunship or an APC chewed through the hostiles.

The drones, torn between their previously suppressed enemy and this new threat that appeared like a raging phantom elected to shoot the bigger target. Alenko tossed a barrier on their new ally and Shepard joined him in smashing the exposed drones. They'd gotten about a third of them by the time they elected retreat was the better bet and flew away into the underbrush all around them.

"Come back you fucking cowards! I'll rip your cameras off and shove them up your tailpipes!" The raging inferno that was this Marine Goliath raged into the void as she smashed a drone infantryman's crawling body underfoot. Then she seemed to regain her senses, checked her ammunition levels for her chaingun, and with a growl of hatred threw the gun to the ground and pulled her rifle out. It was the same model that Shepard and her team used, just sized up for her use, and given a thirty-round magazine, "More spent than my ex!" She thundered, then crouched down onto hall fours like some demented horse demon and charged with nary a sound up to Shepard.

"Gunnery Sergeant Ashley Willaims Two-Twelve Marines, who the hell are you?!" She hissed, then looked down at Jenkins, "And is that boy going to be alright?" She added in a softer tone.

Kaiden was already checking over Jenkins, "Ripped right through his shields, the primary heart is gone, secondary is faint. We'll need to medevac him immediately if he's to live."

Shepard's gut fell out, before, in the face of certain death, she didn't have an ounce of fear. Dread determination certainly, but she could take that out on the enemy as she died screaming. Here, a man was about to die on her watch, and she had no way of saving him.

"Blood loss?" Williams asked.

"He's got about two minutes left until he's in critical, but without a working heart-"

"Give him to me, I got an idea! Bastard's lucky I'm O++."

Shepard looked up, "You can save him?"

"Yeah, it'll be tight in here, but it's not the first time I've done emergency stuff like this." Williams pulled off her vest and torso carapace, then her body's entire chest cavity opened up like an eldritch abomination's mouth to reveal a more regularly proportioned woman naked save for a skin suit, "Connect his blood vessels with my own and I can carry him with me until we can get a proper medevac."

The two special forces operators did, removed Jenkin's carapace armor and ammunition webbing, replacing their expended magazines with fresh ones as they stuck the now similarly naked kid into Williams' body. She spliced her Goliath's arterial bloodways with his own, and he was wrapped in a thin layer of tendrils. When she stood back upright it looked like she was pregnant or had a massive lunch, which made putting on the customized carapace hard suit armor a bit of bother but with Williams' direction, it was accomplished.

"Alright Williams, thank you, I'm Commander Hazel Shepard of the First Joint Task Force, Arcturus Division. We were sent here via courier ship to pick up a high-value target located just a klick from here."

Williams' Goliath face perked up, "Oh the prothean beacon? Shit! I can lead you right there ma'am!"

Kaiden arched an eyebrow, "You know of the HVT marine?"

"Yeah, as soon as the Eden Prime government learned what they had on their hands, the Two-Twelve and Two-Three-Two were routed from garrison to active duty. I only know about the beacon cause me and my platoon were guarding it." Her face fell, "Fucking flashlight heads, came out of nowhere! My… I think I'm all that's left of my platoon. Thought you were Gamma on patrol…"

Shepard raised her hand in consolation, "It's okay marine. Can you lead us there? We don't know our way there and we can't exactly take the direct route."

Ashley nodded emphatically, "Yeah, those drones are everywhere. I can lead you to the dig site. I take lead?"

Shepard motioned forward with her rifle, "Be my guest." Ashley nodded, and on all fours started her way up out of the clearing, "By the way Sergeant, who are the bastards responsible for this?"

Williams looked back, pain on her face, "I think they're geth ma'am."

The dig site was just up ahead, already Shepard and her fireteam had dispatched several squads of geth troopers and accompanying drones. Strike teams like Shepards were equipped with weapons made for the initial assault and follow-on skirmishes, not this war of endurance, they were currently slogging through, already she was on half ammo and had to switch to her mass effect backup weapon on more than a few occasions. The Lancer kicked in her hands as she sprayed down the tough geth shields.

By the time the close confines of the digsite had been cleared out, Shepard was sporting a few new holes in her armor and Alenko looked fit to collapse from the biotic exertions he was making.

"Area clear ma'am!" Ashley growled out as she took the adorned spikes holding the dead aloft, and tore the bodies from them, rumbling in hate as she spent her own time destroying the machines that had been holding her squadmates aloft.

"It's not here." Shepard breathed out instead, looking at the pedestal that the beacon was exposed to be at by her reckoning.

Ashley looked up, murder in her eyes, "They moved it towards the base camp this morning when we went on patrol. Maybe it's even at the spaceport itself."

Alenko checked his omnitool and integrated computer, "Mission control doesn't have any definite answers for us ma'am."

Shepard rubbed her new bulletholes and looked to the smoke chocked sky, "We regroup with Spectre Kryik." She announced.

"Wait wait what Spectre?!" Ashley asked, although it was a bit of a roar as she tore down the last spike holding what looked to be an officer, and then carefully slid him off of his defilement.

Alenko checked his rifle and ammunition levels, "Need to know information Sergeant, just fall in and keep us covered, please. We'll explain later."

Ashley looked torn for a second then the renewed sound of firing brought her back to the present, "You're right Lieutenant, sorry."

"Nothing to apologize about Willaims, kind of a big detail we haven't had the opportunity to pass on." Shepard grunted as she stepped over a partition and towards the earthen ramp towards the excavation base camp.

Peeking over the edge of the horizon were more spikes with bodies.

Ashley snarled, but a look from Alenko silenced it.

Shepard grunted as she climbed up the steep incline, "Bugs in your system Williams?" She laughed, "Or are you just part dog?"

Williams looked chastened by that, "Sorry ma'am, devil dog runs in the blood is all." Alenko and Shepard barked a laugh, and for a moment, all three of them felt camaraderie flow through them. Then they looked back up to the spikes holding their dead aloft, and hatred replaced their mirth.

Ashley continued to crawl on all fours as they crested the hill and looked over the base camp's devastation. The bunk buildings were still intact, but the tools and digging equipment scattered about before the busted storage container paid testament to the battle damage. All that stood here now was those cursed spikes. Shepard thought the mutilated corpses were twitching

"Oh god they're still alive!" Alenko shouted in surprise, then they all got a better look and realized that no, whoever they used to be was no longer the case, replaced by faceless full body cybernetics of some kind. The spikes lowered, and then unbelievably, the previously impaled humans stood straight and charged forward screaming.

Shepard didn't hesitate and pumped the first one full of lead.

"Commander what are you doing!" Williams shouted, uncertainty playing across her face.

Alenko didn't hesitate, he opened fire as well, downing the second and third. The fourth slapped Shepard across the chest with the fury of a power loader. Sending her flying back several meters, Ashley finally joined the battle and blew apart the monster's head with a well aimed shot.

"They're not human anymore marine. I'm sorry." Shepard gasped, pulling herself back upright, "Don't look at them Williams, secure the area," She gasped, pain shooting through her chest, gods she hoped she didn't have a broken rib, "Alenko grab any identification you can."

Alenko looked ready to be sick but swallowed and nodded, checking the bodies over for dog tags or intact dental records. Shepard investigated the bunkhouses, lowering her helmet's visor to perform a multispectrum check, "D-don't shoot!"

Shepard looked and saw the origin of the voice, a woman in field clothes, bright white and yellow, with a belt that held the ICL Archaeology Branch emblem, "It's alright ma'am, we're part of the reinforcements."

The woman standing in the door way shuddered and then began to sob, "Oh thank the maker, thank the maker." Shepard eyed Williams who met her gaze and clambered over.

As the goliath got closer she exclaimed, "Dr. Warren!" The marine's face lit up.

"Ashley! Oh it's so good to see you! Did- did?" At the negative nod from the marine, Warren's face fell, and she entered the bunkhouse. Shepard followed, and Ashley pulled open the shutters so she could stick her head into the room and contribute, "Oh god they're all dead." Warren cried as she sat against a wall.

Dr. Warren was a middle aged looking woman, probably in her late 70s, with brown hair down up in a tied-up bun. She wasn't wearing makeup because if she was the tears streaming down her face would have ruined it by now.

"Quick close the door, don't let the darkness inside you!" The other occupant, a middle-aged man dressed in the same field clothes as Warren shook from his corner of the room.

Warren pulled herself together and stood back up, "Th-thank you ma'am for saving us. I'm Dr. Warren, this is Dr. Manuel. We're part of the planet's scientific team."

Shepard nodded, "You're safe now, can you tell me what happened? Where is the beacon?"

Warren pursed her lips, "The beacon's been transported to the space port already, and was being prepped for pick up for some League ship. Me and Manuel were just back here packing up the last of the equipment this morning when the attack began. Lieutenant Sung told us to get in and lock the doors about an hour ago. We just got in when the firing started. They… They didn't last a minute. We thought they were going to find us but they just- I- I'm sorry." Tears began to well up again, and Shepard couldn't blame the woman. Sitting in terror, with nothing but a spanner to protect you, the fear gets to the best of people.

"Do not apologize in the face of death… You!" Dr. Manuel pointed at Shepard, "You! Beware the masked ones, they come in on disks of power, they direct the machines." Dr. Manuel raved at Shepard, and she took a step back.

"Oh I'm sorry, Dr. Manual is a carrier, and he has a minor neurological condition." Warren gently pressed against Manuel's shoulder and he visibly calmed, "Madness and genius are frequently two sides of the same coin. He's a xenobiologist specializing in prothean studies. I'm an archeological supervisor."

He jerked out of her grip, "Madness is not what I have now! I've seen our future!" He quailed and squatted low, "The voices as they descended, that ship is no machine, it is a god! And it comes to reap us all." He whimpered.

Ashley and Warren looked away, suddenly terrified. Shepard eyed them both, "Am I missing something?"

Warren spoke first, "This massive ship landed right before the attack and made this horrible noise as if it was boring in my skull, everyone felt it."

Ashley nodded, "Even I ma'am, it felt like… Felt like a banshee came out of moms grave and was screaming from my ears. It was terrifying for sure but, a grim reaper? I don't know."

Manuel shook in his squatting position, somehow remaining upright on his heels, "Horror, the voice of damnation speaks. Die now, do not let it take you." He muttered and rubbed the sides of his head.

Williams looked on in pity, "Will he be okay Dr. Warren?"

"I gave him a double dose of his medication, but he's been like this since he touched the beacon. I don't know why but its been worse since we found the thing." Warren explained Manuel looked set to speak but stopped and just waddled back to his corner and hugged his knees close.

"You won't listen, why listen? I'm a street corner doomsayer!" He cried, and now he was starting to sob, slowly growing more hysterical. At least he was being mindful and tried to be quiet.

Shepard's curiosity got the best of her, and Alenko hadn't declared he'd gotten the identification yet, so she had time to kill, "Speaking about the beacon, what is it exactly?"

Warren's face lit up and she actually looked pretty despite the drying tears on her face, "Its a communications server hub, we call it a beacon because it acts like a central processor. The Asari have found thousands of them across space but none were ever so well preserved or functional! This is the scientific discovery of the century, perhaps our lives! Who knows what's on there. It may even hold the secret to the Prothean's sudden disappearance!"

Manuel spoke up, "We already know how they died! Clawing at their own existence fighting gods."

Shepard nodded, ignoring the man, "So how does it work?"

Warren looked abashed and scratched her forearm, "That's… different. We have no idea, the Archives on Mars used physical terminals but that was only after we bypassed the regular interface mechanism for their operation, we think it forms some sort of neural connection with users. Hence a beacon, it connects and coordinates communication not just on a device level, but a user level as well. Its incredibly advanced, only the Asari would really have an inkling of how to unlock its secrets within the decade, what with their mindmeld. It's been theorized that the protheans used a more personalized and incredibly advanced bio-machine interface."

Shepard pretended to be listening intently, although without more information most of it went in one ear and out the other.

Dr. Warren, in an honest attempt to drill it into a hardened soldier's TBI-scarred skull, tried again, "It's a beacon like a radio signal. Everyone who sees it can coordinate with it. As the signal is two ways, it's thought that protheans can exchange information with the information cached within the machine itself. Since the machine was civic in origin from what we could tell, it's very likely it will have information on boring but very vital details like building materials or science. Their form of the codex or encyclopedia. Our problem is we don't have the right radio equipment to interface with this brand of radio beacon. We'll only get static and junk data. If we do it wrong we can brick the device permanently."

Admittedly that was a more coherent answer, "Boss I got the dog tags from all bodies." Alenko announced.

"Stay inside, we'll clear the area, hopefully, the geth won't be interested in this area now that the beacon is gone."

Warren nodded, "Don't have to tell me twice."

Nihlus Kryik's face fell whenever he found bodies. Most of them were civilians, clutching whatever firearms and equipment they had to hand when the invasion began. Many had elected to flee to cover and hunker down there. Sadly that would have saved them against raiders, but not the drones flying through the skies.

In the distance, anti-aircraft batteries were spewing their rage into the errant swarms that drew to close, but it seemed the digsite and cargo terminal had been the heaviest hit by the geth and their devices. They knew exactly what they were looking for.

The beacon.

He'd hurried towards the Cargo terminal where it was slated to be moved for transport onto the Normandy and found nothing. Not even a dead body to greet him despite the obvious battle damage.

"Nihlus Kryik. So we meet at last." A terribly familiar voice spoke from behind him.

He turned around, and Nihlus' heart stopped.

Saren Arterias, in the half cyborg flesh. He stood tall, taller than hm by a head. His face was bare, unpainted save for the mechanical implants that replaced his eyes and half his fringe, forming an overlapping set of silver colored plates. His arm was missing, replaced with what looked like a synthetic prosthetic, with the accompanying chest modifications to make it work.

"No."

Saren looked taken aback at this, "No… what?"

"No." Nihlus relaxed, and turned his back, "We've met before." He sighed as a human did, a habit he picked up through his many missions with them, "This isn't good. The beacon is gone and the geth? The Council will not be pleased."

What was the last conspiracy theory regarding Saren's supposed occupation? Ah yes, "I imagine the Black Lotus and Shadow Broker will be displeased as well, we need to recover it."

Saren nodded and carefully removed his pistol, "All is in hand brother."

Like a coiled spring, Nihlus moved, backing straight into the arm holding the gun to his head, and then elbowed the imposter in the gut. This wasn't Saren Arterias, this wasn't even a Turian!

He punched straight into the fake's face, and felt a hard visor behind the holographic visage, "How!?" the imposter cried in shock.

He punched again, then took his talons and clawed for the throat, if this wasn't a Turian then maybe- thick red blood spurted out, disrupting the disguise even more. They struggled, realizing what was going on as the shock and sucker punch wore off, "Shh shh shh! Easy now, die with dignity." Nihlus cooed, as the figure struggled more trying to get to grips with their pistol, and Nihlus ripped and ripped, feeling tendons, muscles, and veins slice under his claws. Ten seconds later, blood loss took hold, and the hologram failed, as he pulled several wires alongside flesh. Under his claws laid an unusually large Quarian, their face exceptionally pale due to blood loss, and their eyes losing their luminescence.

The Quarian blinked and twitched, the last of their blood leaving their brain. Saren looked on this alien and realized something. This couldn't possibly be a member of the migrant fleet. For one, their armor wasn't vacuum sealed like a normal quarian. By now they'd be coming down with a hell of a case of the sniffles.

The flair for the dramatic kicked in despite his better judgment, and he leaned in close so only the corpse would hear, "You can't use that trick on me." Standing up, soaked in the quarian's blood, he activated his omni-tool, and shot an incendiary on the body. Burning all evidence of his involvement to ash. A terrible droning noise drew his attention to the sky, and he saw the ship in the video, burning toward the sky.

It was truly massive, easily the match of the Destiny Ascension, the largest vessel currently in service in the entire galaxy.

Well, until he laid eyes upon this cuttlefish monstrosity.

Shepard considered herself a consummate professional. She'd upheld her oaths, played her pranks in boot and garrison, and stoically suffered the veiled threats Ashter threw her way.

She couldn't help but have her jaw gape when she saw that horrific ship spin as if some giant sea creature, and begin to burn to orbit, "It's… It's massive!" Alenko exclaimed the obvious, but Shepard couldn't think of a pithy rebuke. Yeah. It was fucking massive!

"Keep moving, we gotta keep moving." Shepard cut in, fighting the urge to stutter, "Nihlus, you read? We're approaching the cargo terminal now! You still alive out there?"

Static played on the radio until they finished cresting the hill overlooking the cargo terminal warehouse, "I read you Shepard- I see you now." Shepard looked down and saw a black arm waving behind cover, Shepard met the wave and then motioned for her team to take flanking positions, "Careful, I may have just disturbed the Kriska's nest-"

Kaiden interrupted, "Ambush! Drones incoming- By gods that's a lot of them!"

Author's note: Welp chapters 6 and 7 are done, and the commissioner has me for two more chapters at least. If you feel like you missed something, then this is a gentle reminder that I have released 6 and 7 simultaneously.

So for this I decided that skipping right into Mass Effect 1's timeline was for the best in terms of story flow. While long winded politics and cultural changes are interesting, unfortunately, I lack the time, energy, and word count to properly document said changes and have elected to present them as we go along.