A/N: Sorry for the delay, and for the shortness. This was supposed to be longer but...well, bad week. Hopefully tomorrow and Friday will be back to your usually scheduled Effectiveness :)

Shepard's boots made faint little ghosts on the dark polished wood floors. A gold insignia was inlaid upon it, Dantius's own initials entwined like lovers in a display of pure arrogance and narcissism. Blood patted down on it lightly as Shepard wiped her cheek and flicked her gloved fingers. The gash wasn't bad, little more than a scratch, but the tickle of blood was irritating.

The great doors were the old fashioned kind, hung on actual hinges. The lock, however, was top of the line with a full holographic security interface. Stepping past a receptionist's desk Shepard fastened down her helmet again and lifted her rifle, covering the doors as she nodded at Miranda. The dark haired Australian quickly hacked the door lock and with a not-so-subtle slam of his boot, Zaeed kicked it open.

There was the distinct ratchet of weapons from within but no actual gunfire.

"I'm coming in," Shepard called out. "I'm armed. Don't shoot at me and I won't fucking erase you."

Edging around the door Shepard stayed within stepping distance of cover, just in case someone inside got smart and tried to fire. She quickly scanned the three tense mercs and the single civilian, all clustered behind a console desk big enough to be a king-sized bed.

Normally Shepard's response to having guns aimed at her was blow the faces off of the ones doing the aiming. It was just good sense, good tactics, and a reflex hammered into every Alliance soldier from the moment they signed their enlistment papers. If someone presents a threat your top priority is to eliminate that threat, at any cost. Oddly enough, however, she felt little threat from these bozos even though they were holding guns on her, and when none of them tensed to shoot she didn't act immediately to empty their skulls.

All three wore the same armor as the fucks she'd been taking down all over the building and all three, even the asari, looked skittish as hell, wide-eyed and nervous. The civvie was another asari wearing a nice suit. Shepard didn't need any formal introductions to know this was Nassana Dantius, a woman she'd talked to but never before seen.

"We can discuss this," Nassana said tersely. "There isn't a single matter under the stars that cannot be talked through and rectified without violence."

"Is that so?"

"Please, we're all rational people. Let's behave civilly."

"As civilly as you did when you used me to take down your sister?" Shepard demanded. Nassana blinked, then her eyes narrowed as she tried to see past Shepard's face-plate.

"Commander Shepard…? But…you're dead!"

"I feel pretty lively for a corpse. Lively enough to erase your security all through the building," Shepard told her. "Gunning down your own goddamn workers, Nassana? I should put a bullet in you right now for that alone!"

"Listen, we can talk about this," Nassana hedged. "Is it credits? I can give you as much as you want, three times what you're being paid."

Shepard scowled blackly. "I told you before, Dantius…I'm not an assassin after creds or some goddamn merc thug-"

"And yet you're here to take me out," Nassana retorted. "You've wiped out all of my guards and now you're here, gun pointed at my head. Someone paid you, Shepard…or is this just your weak idea of vengeance, a healing of your wounded pride because of our little arrangement-"

"Arrangement? You lied to me, had me take out your own sister," Shepard snarled. "You made me look like a fucking patsy!"

"So murder is the only response?"

Shepard's smile was as sharp as a blade, as cool as ice, as she lowered her rifle. "I'm not here to kill you, Nassana, but I would like to remind you of what I said during our last little conversation."

"What's that?"

"I said you had better hope to God that you never see me face to face, because I would be the last thing you see."

As if on cue, a shadowy form suddenly dropped from an access vent on the ceiling, making no sound even as he landed. In a breath, he had all three guards dead. Taking Nassana's arm he pulled her around and in toward himself, as if drawing her into a dance.

There was a muffled gunshot, and slowly the asari woman sagged. Stepping forward a pace, the assassin laid her almost reverently back on her console, folding her hands over her stomach before he took a step back, bowing his head.

"I love it when I'm right," Shepard cocked half a grin at Miranda, before looking at the drell. "Thane Krios, I take it?"

The assassin said nothing, and after a moment, Shepard cocked her head. "What…are you doing?"

"Praying," he replied, his voice holding that faint reverberation all drell possessed. "Prayers for the wicked should never be overlooked."

"For her? She hardly seems to deserve one."

"Not for her. For me."

"Oh yeah? Might wanna make mention of me in there somewhere too then. I need all the prayers I can get."

The drell said nothing, and Shepard shipped her rifle. After a moment he lifted his head. "I am Thane Krios," he affirmed, as if it were even necessary. "You've come a long way to find me."

"I want your help," Shepard replied. "I'm putting a team of specialists together to go against the Collectors, and your name came up."

His gaze was weighty as he watched her, eyes unblinking and dark. "Confronting the Collectors may mean passing through the Omega Four relay. No ship that has done so has ever returned."

"I know, but they're abducting human colonies, and may be working for an even greater threat. Hundreds of thousands of my people have vanished."

He looked pensive, and she shook her head. Walking over she leaned on the console next to Dantius's dead body, regarding him. "I'm not doing this stupid," she promised. "But I need the best team if we're going to stand a chance. That means you."

"Low survival odds don't concern me," he replied, meeting her gaze.

"They tend to concern everyone else, why not you?"

"I am dying," he said bluntly, his tone never changing. He could have been talking about the sunset just beyond the windows, or how his houseplants grew in the winter. It was a simple statement of fact that took her off-guard a moment.

Nodding, she straightened. "I'm sorry to hear that. Thank you for your time. We'll be moving on."

"Do you not still want my help?" he asked. "I am strong and healthy enough at the moment. My condition should not hinder the mission."

She paused, knitting her brows. "You still want to help? I'd figure if your time was short you'd want to spend it in the company of-"

"Friends?" he asked, shaking his head. "Family? I have done many dark things in my lifetime. I am trying to make this galaxy a brighter place before I die. Helping you would accomplish that. I will join you…free of charge."

"Good, but if that's what you're trying to do…why the hesitation?" she asked.

He shook his head. "This was to be my last mission," he admitted. "I felt with this, I had made my closure, my peace…that this would be all that was left. I did not expect, in truth, to survive it. It takes a moment of…adjustment."

"Oh. Well, good news then," Shepard told him. "You probably won't survive ours."

"Liara, it will be all right," Feron soothed as he watched the asari woman pacing back and forth, clearly nervous, clearly troubled.

The transmission room was small, and empty save for them. Feron was standing outside of the scope of the transmitters so he would not be seen, but he had lingered to offer Liara moral support.

"I would feel better if it were not such a complete unknown," she told him. "I do not know if he knows anything about me, or what he has been told. His reaction could be-"

"Anything," he agreed. "But he's millions of miles away on a different planet. He can't…"

He broke off as the signal light began to flash, nodding encouragingly to her as she stiffened. "Good luck, Liara. I will be right here."

The interface brightened, the grid transmitting Liara's image to the compound on Tuchanka even as light formed the shape of a large krogan boy in front of the asari.

He was dark of coloring, iron gray with black plates and startling green eyes. He inclined his head a little as he regarded her, his expression difficult to translate.

Then again, krogan are always hard to read. Wrex was no exception.

"Dundrin Thug…" she greeted. "Thank you for meeting with me."

"I was curious," he rumbled. "I know much of you."

"You…you do?" she asked. "I…suppose Gellian told you?"

"Mother put pictures in my head. I know of you and of Benezia. You're some kind of…doctor? You read a lot."

"Yes," she agreed, trying to keep things as neutral as possible. So far he didn't seem hostile but angering him would not get her the answers she wanted. "You have my condolences…on the passing of your mother."

"She was sick," he stated as if it were nothing. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to talk to you," she replied, "and…to talk to m…y-your sister, if it is possible."

"Eír? She is not here. She left with Shrive, days ago. Why do you want to talk to her?"

"We have the same mother," she said. "I…wanted to get to know her, and to know you. See if there is anything I can do to help you."

"I don't need help," he snuffed. "I have a clan, a teacher and a Warlord, brothers. I am fine. Eír…she is on her own, except for Shrive. Mother wanted me to stay with her, to protect her, but Eír said we had to make our own paths, that mine was here. She was right, but she is still out there alone, and…"

He broke off, scowling. Liara nodded in understanding.

"And you worry…"

"Eír might want to speak to you," he admitted. "She told me they were heading to Omega for a short while, and from there, to some…some planet where Shrive has a friend, I think. They weren't sure. Said they'd contact me once they'd settled down, once my training was done."

"Omega…do you have a contact number for her, for her omni-tool perhaps?"

He bobbed a nod and activated his own, sending the information to hers. "There. Up to her if she talks to you."

"I appreciate it so much, Thug…thank you. I know you say you have no need of me, but if you ever do…please, do not hesitate to ask."

"Save it for Eír," Thug grumped. "I'm fine."

And the call ended, just like that. Thug's holographic form faded away as he terminated the connection. As Liara regarded her omni-tool, Feron approached. "You going to try calling her now?"

Liara bobbed her head. "I must…before I lose my nerve again, start second guessing."

She attempted to put the call through, but after a few moments it dropped, its status flashing as 'unavailable'. She tried again, with the same result.

"She may still be travelling," Feron told her. "Or maybe she just turned it off. She's young, in love…might just not want to be disturbed."

"I…will try again in a few hours," Liara agreed reluctantly. "I have work I should be catching up on, anyway."

"You'll talk to her, don't worry," Feron reassured. "You'll find her."

"Shepard, seriously…it's not going to bite you," Kasumi said with a bemused smile.

"Oh yeah, because that's what I'm worried about," she replied sarcastically. She was standing in the middle of her small gym, holding the katana sword that Kasumi had given her balanced on the palms of her hands.

"Then what's the problem?" she asked.

"Kasumi, this thing is extremely old," Shepard replied. "I feel like it'll break if I breathe on it wrong."

Kasumi shook her head, setting her own blade aside before taking Shepard's from her. She drew it out of the wooden sheath, turned, and slammed the blade against the metal bench nearby as hard as she was able. The sword rang loudly.

Turning back to Shepard she showed it to her. "You see? Not so much as a scratch. This is a Hānzo blade, Shep. He built to last. So long as you don't toss it into a volcano, this blade will outlive you."

She passed it back to Shepard, then picked up her own again. "Give it a few test swings, feel the weight of it."

Shepard was scrutinizing the blade, amazed there wasn't so much as a knick in the edge of it. She looked up when Kasumi cleared her throat, then gave the weapon a little sweep.

"It's so light…"

"Think of it as an extension of your arm, of your body," Kasumi told her, demonstrating a stance, moving her own sword slowly in front of her chest. "It's no different. Let it speak to you."

Shepard mimicked her motion, carefully extending her sword. It was not a new concept, really. Her weapons' trainers had emphasized that pistols and rifles were also nothing but extensions of the wielder, this was merely a different application of the same principle.

She followed Kasumi's motions silently and as precisely as she could, well aware she was nowhere near as graceful as her companion. Shepard's body had been honed for blunter tactics…she was designed to throw punches of force, not of finesse. The gentle movements were oddly exhausting given what they were.

"Not too bad, Shep. You're getting it," Kasumi encouraged as she straightened. "It's going to be a little while before we'll actually fight each other with these…last thing we need is you losing an ear."

As Shepard resheathed the katana, Kasumi set hers aside and picked up a pair of wooden swords, tossing one to Shepard. "Here. We can beat each other to a happy pulp with these instead. Get the rudimentaries of combat down."

An hour later saw Shepard dripping with sweat, teeth grit and a feral fire in her eyes as she swept the wooden training sword at Kasumi again. The thief expertly dodged it, but her return blow was blocked with enough force to make her teeth rattle.

"You don't connect much but when you do…you're like an earthquake," Kasumi teased.

"Well, if you'd stop doing all that fucking flowing, bending…'be like a flower in the wind' shit I'd be able to hit you more often," Shepard grumped back, planting the tip of the wood sword on the ground and leaning on it, trying to catch her breath. Kasumi laughed.

"I think we've done enough for today. You pick things up fast, Shepard. Soon you'll be a flower in the wind too."

"Yeah…right now I feel like a fucking pig in the sty," Shepard snorted, drawing her forearm over her face. "Next time, we box."

"Deal," Kasumi smiled. As Shepard parked on the bench, picking up her water and dumping half of it over her head before taking a drink, Kasumi returned the practice swords to the wall and picked up her own Hānzo, sitting down beside the Commander.

"You should have Samara teach you some things as well," she suggested. "And Thane, too. I bet both of them have some very good pointers on different fighting styles. Just think, you'd be able to kill people in four different languages."

"Mu gou," Shepard smirked.

"Baka," Kasumi shot back. Shepard laughed, then squinted as she tried to remember.

"Kutabare," she announced. Kasumi giggled.

"Baita."

"Uh…shit. Um…ah! Kasumi wa…futotte rushi, taido…uh…mo warui shi…tabako mopu…shit….mopukapuka suu shi!"

Kasumi's jaw dropped with a mock gasp of indignation, and she reached over and slapped Shepard's knee. "I am not fat and if someone smokes too much, it's you!"

Shepard snickered. "Is that so?"

"Yes, that's so," Kasumi giggled. "Where did you even learn that? I didn't teach you that!"

"I do have access to the extranet you know," Shepard grinned, then turned, aiming the water bottle at her friend, before squeezing it. A spray of water slapped Kasumi right in the face, and the thief gasped, before retaliating with her own water bottle.

A moment later, Miranda's voice interrupted the full on water brawl. {Commander, the Illusive Man wishes to speak to you. He says it's urgent.}

Shepard groaned, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, ok. I'll be up in a minute."

"It's a draw, anyway. We're both out of water," Kasumi said, wiping off her face before she picked up a towel, pitching it at her friend.

Shepard caught it, tossing her empty bottle toward the reclamation unit before mopping off her face, slinging her towel around her shoulders. "I'd better go see what the asshole wants."

"I'll clean up in here. Try not to have too much fun," Kasumi grinned.

Shepard headed down to the command deck, fluffing the towel over her wet hair as headed into the conference room. As the holographic interface took hold she narrowed her eyes at the Illusive Man, hands gripping each end of the towel slung over her neck.

Almost the instant he appeared, he began speaking. "Shepard, one of our colonies in the Terminus just went dark."

"Dark?" she asked, instantly straightening.

"We've lost all communication with the colony on Horizon. The last time this happened, Ferris Fields was abducted. It looks like this colony is the next on the Collectors' agenda. If they're not already there, they will be soon."

"Are we the closest ship?"

"Not the closest but the fastest and the best equipped. Please tell me Dr. Solus has those countermeasures ready."

"He was close to something but I'm not sure how close, I never got final word," Shepard replied. "Jesus fuck, man…a general distress should be going out to every military vessel in range-"

"To do what? Be cut down by the Collector ship? Be abducted right along with the colonists? The Normandy can be there within an hour, and you are the only one that has the equipment, intel, and crew needed to even begin handling the threat. Besides, any non-human military vessel would ignore us, and any Alliance vessel would refuse to enter the Terminus without forms signed in triplicate. You're their only hope, Shepard."

Shepard swore again, and turned on her heel to leave, already opening her mouth to call out for Joker.

"Shepard, wait! There's one more thing," The Illusive Man said urgently, drawing her to a halt. She turned her head and glared at him.

"What?"

"Ashley Williams is on Horizon."

Her face went dark, eyes dangerous as she strode back toward him. "Ash? What the hell is she doing there?"

"Officially she's there as part of an outreach program between the Alliance and the colonies," he replied calmly. "I believe that's just a cover. It's more likely that she's researching the abductions herself, on behalf of the Alliance."

"And it's what…just a fucking coincidence that the Collectors suddenly chose a colony that has one of my former crew on it?" Shepard spat venomously. Turning again she strode out, whipping the towel off from around her neck and snapping it against the wall as she went past, the motion one of pure frustration.

"Joker! Get us on a course for the Horizon colony in the Terminus, ma shang! I want to be there yesterday!"

{Yes ma'am, adjusting course now. ETA…looks like forty-five minutes.}

Slapping the door interface with her palm, Shepard strode into the lab, her eyes fixing immediately to their only hope of surviving this mess.

"Tell me you have something, Mordin. We've got a colony dark and Collectors heading in right now. We need those countermeasures."

The salarian glanced up at her with remarkable calm, and then smiled. "Yes."

"Commander, I would like to accompany you."

The voice was like a calm center in an angry storm. The CIC was bustling as they drew near to Horizon, scans already picking up a large Collector vessel parked just outside the colony. Both Miranda and Shepard were barking orders, and they would be in range to send the shuttle down in just a few minutes. Shepard was already half-dressed in her hard-suit, waiting on Mordin to finish the tweaks to her chest-plate.

Yet through all this noise and tumultuousness, Samara's voice cut through and was immediately heard, even though she didn't speak loudly. Turning her head to look at the Justicar, Shepard straightened.

"I thought you might want to stay aboard a while, acclimatize yourself to the ship and the mission before diving into the fire headfirst."

"Diving into the fire, as you say, is what a Justicar does, Commander," Samara replied smoothly. "I would like to join your ground team."

Shepard nodded. "Very well. Get suited up, and see Mordin, then meet me down in the cargo bay. Shuttle leaves in ten minutes."

"Who else do you want to go with you?" Miranda asked as Samara headed away.

"I got biotics and firepower, I need some brute force," Shepard replied. "Get Grunt. He should be happy to pound some faces in and I get the feeling there are going to be a lot of faces that need pounding down there."

The man was pale, warm sunlight glowing off of muscles tensed for running, an expression of alarm or surprise in his unblinking eyes. A soft blue hand lightly touched a cheek as hard and still as alabaster, and grey eyes met green as the man's gaze edged painfully to hers.

"They are aware, Shepard," Samara stated in concern, turning to look at Shepard. The human woman was peering at another colonist nearby, this one collapsed in a position of agony on the ground.

"This is…some kind of stasis field maybe? A paralytic toxin?" Shepard replied, before she crouched, examining the fallen's eyes. When they slowly fixed to hers she nodded.

"Don't worry. I don't know if you can hear me but we're here to stop them, all right? We're not going to let them take you."

Lightly touching the man's cheek she straightened and looked around. They had crossed half the colony already…a colony crawling with Collectors, of which they had taken down their fair share. These, however, were the first actual colonists they'd found.

The great Collector ship was looming overhead, still half a mile away at the edge of the colony, big enough that its crest was wreathed in swirling clouds. Hearing the now-familiar drone, Shepard readied her rifle.

"We got incoming!"

"Good!" Grunt grinned, ratcheting his shotgun. "I want to step on more bugs!"

Collector soldiers appeared over a wall. Landing at the far side of the courtyard they immediately moved for cover, even as Shepard and her two companions did. As she pressed her back to a water reclamation unit, Shepard felt a moment of gratitude that she was not afraid of bugs.

That's what they were, the Collectors…big, goddamn, human –shaped bugs. Naturally armored with a brown, shiny, chitinous exoskeleton, the smallest of them so far stood at six feet. They had rudimentary wings tucked on their backs…at least, these soldiers did. While not capable of true flight they could lift themselves through the air several feet off the ground for a short time. This was not the first time a patrolling squad had dropped in on them unexpectedly.

As their position was peppered with gunfire she could hear Grunt's laughs as he ducked from cover to cover, each transfer punctuated by a heavy whump from his shotgun.

"Boy has some skills," she smirked to herself, before taking aim as well and cutting two of the soldiers in half. Just before she dropped back down, she noticed three of the Collectors seemed to be trying to hack their way into a small building nearby. Switching her assault rifle for her sniper, she set her crosshairs on the head of the nearest one, and deleted it.

As it collapsed in a splash of dark ichor she shifted her aim, eliminating one of its companions before her position was suddenly inundated with weapons fire. Ducking back quickly, she grinned to herself, the expression terse and bitter.

Clearing her thermal clip, she turned as she heard a break in the gunplay, then lifted a brow. The third Collector had abandoned the door and was rushing forward toward Samara, who was standing in the midst of the courtyard, surrounded by liquid blue. No fewer than four of the remaining soldiers were lifted into the air by her biotic energy, hurled to lifeless wreckage against a wall. She had not, however, seen the charging soldier.

Snapping her rifle up to her shoulder Shepard drew a bead and knocked the fucker down just as it leveled its weapon at the asari biotic. It hit the ground, one eye missing in a wash of black fluid, but it was not out. Struggling, it rolled to its side, struggling to get to its feet.

Rising from her own cover, Shepard strode forward, taking another bead on it, and hit it again. Chunks of carapace went flying in a rain of thick ink, and the soldier slumped at last, lifeless.

"Thank you, Commander," Samara noted as Shepard lowered her gun.

"My pleasure," Shepard replied, eyes scanning the yard for any more hiding soldiers. "They were trying to hack that door. We should-"

**SHEPARD**

She heard her name spoken in a deep baritone, the sound itself seeming to slice into her skull like a band-saw. She gasped in surprised pain, the heel of her hand planting to her temple.

"Shepard?" Grunt slung his shotgun against his shoulder, heading her way, even as Samara turned toward her, frowning.

"Commander?"

**SHEPARD**

She gasped again, then grit her teeth, lifting her rifle to her shoulder as she whipped around, aiming it.

A Collector stood a dozen yards away. Instead of white, his eyes were a strangely luminescent yellow. His exoskeleton was cracked and seemed…stretched, somehow, as if a larger creature had tried to put it on as a costume.

**WE ARE HARBINGER**

The sound nearly stumbled her to her knees as pain rocketed through her skull. Desperately she opened fire on the strange drone before actually dropping her weapon, everything in her brain seeming to flash white with agony.

**WE KNOW THIS HURTS YOU**

Then, just that quickly, it was gone, the fading thunder of Grunt's shotgun blast echoing through the complex. Panting, she groped out for her rifle, struggling up to her feet as her eyes cleared. Someone took hold of her arm, and as her glove scrubbed under her nose, it came away bloody.

The strange drone was on the ground, dissolving in a hiss of acid much as Saren's corpse had once dissolved.

"Shepard, are you all right?" Samara asked with concern.

"I'm fine…" she replied, wiping her nose again. "D-did you hear that? Did you hear it talk?"

"I heard nothing," the biotic admitted, and glanced at Grunt, who shrugged.

"Didn't hear a damn thing."

"It sounded like it was in my head," Shepard replied. "It knew my name, called itself…Harbinger."

"This is a concerning turn of events," Samara murmured. Shepard tugged away from her, not ungently, and cracked her neck.

"I'm fine now…I'm all right. They…they were trying to get into that building. There's got to be something or someone in there they want. Let's check it out."