A/N: This is the last chapter in the Peace arc. Next chapter will see the beginning of the Innocence Lost arc, set in 2171. I know there will be many plot points unresolved in this arc, most of them will carry on into Innocence Lost.

I can confirm there will be a total of at least six parts to this story, the last of which will be significantly longer than the others and may be split into two or more arcs depending on whether or not I decide to time jump. A summary:

1. Defiance (2157)

2. Peace (2165)

3. Innocence Lost (2171)

4. Reapers (2177)

5. Schism (2180)

6. War (2183)

###

"Wakey wakey."

Liara's eyes snapped open, her tenacious control over her vision failing her and the world once again a shapeless mass as her hypersensitive hearing was assailed by the myriad sounds she had become accustomed to blocking out. Her head reeled from the sensory overload as she tried to sort through the raw data pouring through her senses.

She felt a surge of relief as the now familiar green biotic overlay appeared in her vision, the blur filled with the flickering outlines of the objects in the room. The relief quickly shifted to alarm as the green was replaced by sickly yellow. That had never happened before. Through a monumental force of will she banished the overlay and focused her eyes, quickly skimming through and memorising the objects in the room.

She was cuffed to a chair in the middle of a large room, pulsing blue objects on her palms and forehead, what she assumed were biotic inhibitors and the cause of the yellow overlay. Set up about four metres in front of her was an automatic turret, one she recognised as a Blue Suns model, six barrelled chaingun spinning as it pointed directly at her head. As well as the turret there were seven Suns in the room with her - a Salarian engineer, two biotic specialists, one Atavira and one Human, three assault specialists, two Raachok and a Seu'Seun. It was the seventh Sun that caught her attention though. A scarred Human mercenary captain holding an insanely customised Blitz LMG, a cigar clamped between his chops. She instantly recognised him despite never having met him in person.

Zaeed Massani.

"Good morning. I trust you slept well?"

The Human biotic was doing the talking as Massani just watched, puffing away on his cigar. She addressed the merc leader as she replied.

"Why am I here?"

"We have some questions for you."

She stared at the biotic for a moment then turned her attention back to Zaeed.

"Where's Grunt?"

"Who?"

"My Krogan friend."

The biotic frowned at her.

"Yes, about that. How did you acquire a Superkrogan? It talks and has a sound grasp of tactics, perhaps a new model?"

"I freed him. Now where is he?"

"Answer the question."

"Not until you answer mine."

The biotic flared up a corona of dark energy, speaking through clenched teeth.

"That's not how this process works, little girl."

Liara wasn't quite sure how she did it. One moment she was locked into an interrogation chair, the next she was flying through the air, one hand wrapped around the arrogant Human's neck as he clawed at her arm. Not pausing to ponder her newfound ability, she slammed the merc into the wall, denting it with the force of the impact.

"You're good."

She hadn't even noticed Massani right behind her. His punch struck the vulnerable nerve cluster in the small of her back, making her muscles instantly tense up. The second punch clocked her in the amp jack at the base of her skull, throwing her biotics into disarray, and the third one slammed into her temple, knocking her to the floor and dazing her.

"I like you. So listen up. You're either an asset or a threat, your pet too. Which is it going to be?"

She regained enough sense to roll on her back and look up at the merc general.

"Are you offering me a job?"

###

The female Turian slipped out of the shadows, alighting on the bench beside Solana and pulling her hood down to reveal a familiar red-painted face.

"Hey Sol."

She leaned over and nipped Solana on the neck, making heat flush through her even as she turned to reciprocate.

"Hey Nyreen. Listen, I've been thinking about the military, our term of service."

Nyreen sighed and pulled away from the half-embrace they were sharing.

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to think about that yet."

Undeterred, Solana pressed on.

"I think I've found a solution."

"What?"

She brought up something on her Omnitool.

"Here. This is the application form for an exchange program between the Hierarchy and American special forces. It's an experimental unit composed of Turian recruits trained as US SEALs. We would serve our term as part of the US military then have dual Hierarchy/American citizenship."

Nyreen peered at the information on the Omnitool.

"What about biotics?"

"Says here they're looking for biotics too. Apparently Earth bloc militaries usually integrate their biotics into their units instead of segregating them like us or the Salarians."

Nyreen looked sideways at her girlfriend.

"I still don't know about it ..."

"Just take some time to think about it."

###

Thunawurona clomped slowly into Citadel Control, making the Salarian on duty look up at her ponderous approach.

"Ah, Thunawurona, good you're here. Shift change twelve minutes ago."

"Annoyed: My skycar is in the repair shop. With great vexation: The elevator is very slow. Sarcastically: I could have walked quicker on three legs. Apologetically: Sorry for the delay."

By the time she had finished her monologue the Salarian's skycar was already disappearing into the bustle of Tayseri ward's traffic.

"This one is pleased to greet Thunawurona."

"Glad you're here. That *ksst* Sur'Kesh-clan is such a *ksst* inside trader it's *ksst* unbelievable."

"Casually: Greetings, Holhool and Farkha."

Farkha chuckled and waddled over to a console on the opposite wall, carrying his stepping stool with him.

"We sound like a *ksst* joke. A Vol-clan, a Dekuuna-clan and a *ksst* Kahje-clan walk into a bar."

"This one is sorry to inform Farkha Fors that the Enkindlers did not create the Hanar with the ability to walk."

"Friendly tease: In your case roll would be a more appropriate adjective."

"*ksst* Bah. Try to make a *ksst* humorous comment ..."

"This one respectfully wishes for silence. A new vessel is requesting a direct link."

"Curiously: Who is it?"

The three mismatched aliens gathered around a comm screen to listen to the transmission.

"This is the Rannochian dreadnought Omboro requesting docking accommodation be made for an audience with the Citadel Council."

"Confused: Huh?"

###

The first indication that something interesting was happening was when a very large dreadnought appeared outside the Citadel. The second indication was the heavily armed and armoured shuttle that delivered a Quarian in an ornate exosuit to the Presidium.

Councillor Luceius looked at the Quarian standing before the Council, his stance one of casual nonchalance before the three most powerful individuals in the galaxy. He had heard the mutterings of the other two about the possible reason for the meeting but he had already figured it out. He had recognised the rifle slung on the man's back as one of the many Mattock variants favoured by the Earth bloc and seen the HR motors on the dreadnought. The Quarians had aligned with the Earth bloc and this was a courtesy call.

###

Aåstrīūt was a stone worker. It was his role in society to shape the great lithoships that soared through the Holy Kingdom, spreading the Word to the ten planets. He worked the stone as part of the Stonemason's Chapter. Then the Sailor's Chapter took their works and used them to transport the Warrior's Chapter to bring new worlds under their heel, then the Prophet's Chapter to consecrate them to the Word. Then the Stonemasons would come and shape the world to the whims of the Word, and the process would continue.

At the moment he was working on a cutter, the sleek stone shell designed to transport a single Prophet to a far off world. The Ruling Chapter had seen several possible targets for conversion. One was a fragmented people, torn apart from the inside by rebels and spies. One was an angry people, trapped on their world. One was a weak minded people, primitive and malleable. The last was a bitter people, at the mercy of those that defeated them. Those were their targets. And soon they would bow to the Word.

Eventually everyone did.