Alternate Past: Uncertain Future Mk. II

Chapter 27

"...Paves the Path to Hell"

"When the Spirit reaches its limit from so many lashings, only two courses are left to it: to submit, or to fight."

-Unknown

The were many garden worlds under the dominion of the Batarian Hegemony. But Crematoria was not among them. A planet of two extremes, it was arguably the most hostile planet in the known galaxy, at least within the Hegemony. Divided in two halves by its angle of rotation, one side a burning cauldron of flame and magma, its surface constantly ignited by the rays of the local star. The other a frozen wasteland, near pitch black at all times, the temperatures so slow, any sentient being would freeze solid in minutes, the wind so biting and cold that the snow drifts froze sideways, creating lethal icicles that could snap off and go flying without a moment's notice. The zones where the two extreme's met divided by massive mountains so that the two never met.

Yet, despite its apparent hostility to nearly all forms of life, it was among the Hegemony's richest worlds. Deep beneath the planet's surface, massive deposits of ores and minerals flowed through the planet. The raw resources needed by any growing interstellar society. The vast majority of it however, was buried underneath the Crucible, the name of the inflamed half of Crematoria. No machine could hope to survive such an inferno, and since the Hegemony desired those resources, they were forced to dig from the Frost, the name of the frozen wasteland.

Thousands of slaves had died establishing the first settlements. Whether it be from the elements, or by the Impale-Hail, the name given to the icicles that broke off and flew through the window, impaling any poor soul unfortunate enough to be in one's path. Even with the settlements established, the mining efforts was forced to crawl as slaves could only used tools and few machines to mine. Explosives would always cause cave-ins, even in reinforced tunnels, and drilling machines could cause the planet's thin plates to shift and cave in entire networks and affect the settlements themselves.

The settlements themselves were not special, the same features as many of the Hegemony's mining worlds. Slave barracks, refineries, docking locations for freighters and living quarters for the masters. One unique feature was how every structure was connected by an underground network, allowing the residents and slaves to travel between buildings in relative safety. Despite their best efforts, the cold still manages to seep through, both icicles and ice are a common sight, with even snowfall sometimes occur in large enough areas, such as the Central transit stations with train lines connecting all of the settlements.

The truly exceptional feature of the main settlement was its spaceport. For such a small community, Crematoria's colony had a very large and sophisticated spaceport. It was a necessity; due to large amounts of raw materials it exported, and the vast amount of slaves it imported on a regular basis.

The harsh conditions of the planet meant that the company responsible for operations there, the Batarian Mining Consortium, was hard-pressed to find willing workers. Thankfully for them, they had legions of slaves to do the mining for them. The frequency in which slaves died on the planet, whether it was a mining accident, abuse, or the elements was astounding, but the profit the mining produced negated the losses. Crematoria had become so notorious for way it treated its slaves that masters throughout the Hegemony threatened their slaves with selling them to the Consortium for misbehavior.

But those slaves proved to be a key weak point for the Rebellion to exploit. Using the slavers under ONI control they sold large numbers of slaves who were already committed to the rebel cause to Batarian Mining Consortium. Dropping them off directly at the Crematoria spaceport (and smuggling in numerous weapons in the process). The thousands of slaves already laboring in the mines also proved very receptive to the rebel message.

They were already dead men walking (and in a few cases women) and they knew it. Sent to perhaps the worst place in the Hegemony to be quickly and brutally worked to death. They had virtually nothing to lose, and hearts filled with hate for their oppressors.

The Batarian Mining Consortium didn't know it, but its grip on Crematoria was weakening by the day. With their slaves moving further and further away from the servile role that the mining company had intended for them.

All that that was left was a simple...push.

**APUFMKII**

It was a rare sight to see a Citadel Councilor in public outside of the Council Chambers, more so to see them alone without a large escort. But when that particular councilor was a krogan with several centuries of battle experience, one could be forgiven for thinking that an escort wasn't needed.

So no one said a word as Wrex moved through the Presidium heading for the Councilors' Private Firing Range. Built by the first turian Councilor, both as a place to hone his skill with firearms, and also as place simply for him and his old military buddies to hang out, it had gone through numerous expansions and renovations over the centuries. It now included an area for wrestling, a spa and whirlpool, a great deal of exercise equipment, a massage parlor, and a full service bar.

It was probably more accurate at this point, or even decades ago, to call it the Councilors' private resort. A place that only the Councilors themselves (and whoever they invited) had access to. Technically not even the Spectres had unrestricted access to it. Although in practice, once a Spectre had proven themselves, they were usually allowed to use the facilities whenever they wanted.

Of course the Councilors often made an exception for family too, and the fact that the krogan Councilor's brother had been granted unlimited access was an example of that. But Wreav had made little use of the facilities beyond the original firing range itself. Trying to prove (if only to himself) that he was still the warrior and marksman he once was.

Unfortunately the more he practiced, the more the krogan warrior doubted himself.

Wreav had spent hours under the rubble after the operation against the Spartans at the Castle R&D facility had ended in disaster. Even his robust krogan physique had struggled to survive his injuries. His right hand in particular had been damaged, crushed to paste beneath a shard of red-hot metal, wrecked beyond even a krogan's ability to heal.

Now Wreav was attempting to use a heavy pistol with his remaining left hand. But since he had spent centuries shooting with his right, it was awkward even after weeks of practice. His frustration obvious to his brother as Wrex entered the firing range.

"USELESS PIECE OF JUNK!" Wreav screamed in frustration as he hurled his weapon away. The gun accidentally discharging as it hit the ground. The shot missing the krogan Councilor by only a few inches.

"Wreav, still letting your temper get the best of you, even after all these centuries." Wrex tried to joke as he went to pick up the fallen weapon. The two were the last surviving siblings of their brood as far as they were aware, and had only reconciled the majority of their differences less than a decade ago. Ironically enough, they had the humans to thank for that. After seeing what had happened to the turians, both brothers decided that it was time to talk.

"WHY SHOULDN'T I BE ANGRY?...THE DAMN HAIRLESS APES ARE STILL WINNING AND THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT!" Wreav ranted.

Wrex just sighed at his brother's reaction, though it was understandable why. "I never said you didn't have a reason to be angry, but that's no excuse for a hardened Battlemaster like you to be throwing a tantrum like a broodling that still hasn't left its clutch!" Wrex shouted, "No matter what insult they've dealt to you!" The Krogan Councilor's own ire peaking.

For a Krogan, one of the greatest insults that could be dealt to them, after the forcible removal of the headplate, was to cripple a Krogan so that they could not fight without aid. A vacuum suit was different as opposed to a prosthetic. "And you're wrong on both counts, Wreav. The Rebels aren't winning, not as easily as they have been before. We've started hitting back."

"How?" said Wreav doubtfully.

"Tactics. Instead of going after them like an overeager broodling that still hasn't done his Rite of Passage, we try the path of patience. They love to harass the Hegemony by raiding their bases and depots. Even the convoys if they get the chance. I've had the Krogan forces station themselves at or near potential raid targets. Every time the Rebels launched a raid since then, they've been beaten back. Without anything to show for it."

"What...what about the Spartans?" Wreav asks with unusual (for him) hesitation.

"That's why I'm here." Wrex answered with a smile. "The people I've talked with think that a Krogan Battlemaster, or perhaps a Warrior could take on a Spartan and beat them in brute force alone. But I've taken steps to tilt the odds in our favor."

Wreav turned away from his brother. Silently brooding for a moment, then admitting "They're stronger than us Wrex...I've thought of us as the galaxy's toughest race my whole life...but none of my boys were strong enough...I wasn't strong enough."

Wrex stepped forward, placing a hand on his Broodbrother's shoulder. "I know Wreav, that's why I came to find you. It's high time that we've changed that back to the way it should be."

"You have a way of making the humans weaker?" Wreav asked in confusion.

Wrex laughed at Wreav's question, a true laugh. "No, Wreav. And it wasn't me. Okeer has found the way to make the Krogan strong again. Strong enough, that the claim that there is no race stronger than the Krogan in the galaxy will be true again." Turning Wreav to look him in the eye, he added. "That' why I came here brother. I'm here to ask you to be the first."

"First what?"

"The first, of Tuchanka's Alpha Warriors."

**APUFMKII**

Since the Rebellion began, the Hegemony had held onto the belief that it was the humans, and especially the Spartans, that allowed these Rebels to grow as large as they had and effective as they were. So long as they were contained on Khar'Shan, however many other Rebellions may begin, they would never be anywhere near as worrying as the one on Khar'Shan.

In the span of less than a single week, the slaves of Crematoria would utterly shatter that belief. At the height of the workday, the slaves were treated to the sight of new arrivals. A batch of turians, krogan and even the odd asari, sent to the planet to work the mines. A good number of them would be dead within weeks, either from the frost or the abusers. At least, that was what everyone had thought.

Turian slave 626 toiled away with his power-hammer, each swing magnified by the mass-effect field generator in the handle. 626 had long since forgotten his name since he was kidnapped just as he was to reach the age of conscription.

As he hammered away at the ore vein, he sneaked glances at the overseer, a hand on his shotgun, unfolded, carefully watching the mining slaves. 626's spirit had not been broken by his enslavement, indeed like many of his fellow diggers, he had been sent to this planet because he would not break. While he would have loved to just take his hammer and slammed it against the overseer's skull, he knew that the Overseer would just perforate him before he could get close.

But now things were different. The new slaves spoke of revolution, saying that slaves on the Kar'Shan itself had already begun to rebel. Bringing new weapons and ideas to the dreary hellhole of Crematoria. Telling the slaves already there that the time for revenge against their brutal masters was almost at hand.

Rumors had been flitting around the barracks that it was almost time, that the signal would be given soon. And when it was, the slaves of Crematoria would enact their revenge. 626 tightened his grip as he began slowing his swings, trying to make it look like he was slowing down from exhaustion.

It was supposed to happen today. When the signal happened (which they had been told would be the alarm used to announce an immanent cave in) the slaves were all supposed to turn on the nearest overseers. Killing them and then moving to the guards barracks and administrator centers throughout the colony. Slaughtering everyone not on their side.

But 626 had his own addition to the plan, he wanted to personally take out this particular overseer. He had seen friends die thanks to this one's cruelty. As the time to the signal ticked down, his swings kept getting slower, drawing the overseer's attention. "Hey, 626! What do you think you're doing?! Get back to work!" The Overseer stepped closer, intent on making sure he was heard. "Hey, I said-"

But the overseer (who had never bothered to tell 626 his name) never finished his sentence. 626 swung hard and fast with his hammer, the Overseer's head splattering into pieces as it was violently ripped off. The overseer's blood drenching him as blood gushed out like a fountain from what was left of the batarian's neck, 626 grinning like a lunatic as he watched his tormentor's body twitch twice before falling backwards. Without hesitation, another of the slaves ran to the body, stripping it of weapons, omnitool and most importantly, the keys to their collars.

Then, a red light lit up the tunnels (the cave-in alarm) the normal blue shutting down (telling the other rebels to attack). Gunfire, screams and a collective cheer rang through the tunnels as the other slaves turned on their overseers. "Step One: Break the bonds!" Collars throughout the tunnels popped off as stolen omnitools were sent their signals. "Step Two: Breach Jericho!"

The slaves charged towards the surface access doors, armed with their power-tools, stolen and smuggled weapons. As 626 charged towards the doors, he saw krogan, freed of their restraints prying open the doors with repurposed tools.

Throughout the colony, the guards and administrators were dying as the slaves turned on them. They had grown fat (in some cases literally) off the labor of those they oppressed, failing to demonstrate their supposed superiority in the moment of crisis. A few of the guards tried pleading with the suddenly violent slaves once they realized how utterly screwed they were. But they received the same measure of mercy they had given out (none).

A permanent expression of glee was etched across 626's face as he shattered body after body with his hammer. Shouting along with the rest of his fellow oppressed, "Step Three! Purge the Infection!" Another hammer blow ended the life of another Hegemony citizen. 626 spied another security force batarian hiding behind an overturned skycar. Without hesitation, he swung again…

In less than an hour, every single non-slave batarian was either dead or fleeing from Crematoria with all speed. Only one small freighter managed to escape, bearing word of what happened to the Hegemony. "Step Four: Expunge the vermin." Not that such actions were truly necessary.

Because the former slaves soon used the colony's communications equipment to broadcast a message on the strongest signal that they could. "Step Five: Hear our Voice!" Declaring that Crematoria was now a sovereign and independent world, calling on governments like the Turian Hierarchy, New Covenant, Asari Republics, and even the UEG to acknowledge Crematoria's independence.

**APUFMKII**

The Office of Naval Intelligence had had a presence on the Hierarchy world of Jarum since the first humans had arrived there. Gathering as much intel as they could on the Citadel Races, and doing their best to infiltrate the local government (which was difficult, due to the fact that humans weren't allowed to even become citizens on the colony). All while doing their best to do nothing to arouse the locals suspicions.

Nevertheless, most of the assignments on Jarum were relatively easy by ONI standards. The colony was perhaps the only world in Citadel space where humans were popular, and was their main (legal) gateway into Citadel territory. So ONI did its best to not upset the locals.

Janice Jackson was one of the newest ONI agents to arrival on Jarum. She had only recently become a field agent, and this was her first assignment. Being told to shadow and observe a human/asari couple. What made Janice particularly suited for this mission was her lack of bias against non-humans. Having been born during the twilight days of the Second Insurrection, she was also not poisoned against aliens like many others of her generation by her parents.

Although she had no idea why ONI was interested in this particular couple.

Both the human male and asari were doctors who had dedicated their lives to helping the less fortunate. They appeared to be friends with everyone they knew, and what little time they didn't spend with their patients seemed to be almost entirely devoted to their children. To Jackson they appeared normal and wholesome to the point of being boring.

Still, one did not question the orders they were given, especially if those orders were from the Office of Naval Intelligence. Which was why Janice was following the couple through the local farmer's market today, dressed in a blend of asari and human clothing, as was the fashion among both of the aforementioned races on the planet.

At least, she had been following the pair. It was about midday on the colony, and being the weekend, meant it was packed. "Excuse me, pardon me." She squeezed her way through the crowd, trying to find her quarry. "Coming through. Sorry sir." Squeezing between another two market goers, she finally managed to get out of the crowd. At the last second, her foot was caught on something, causing her to trip forward.

As luck would have it, Jackson landed more or less face first in Rayna's cleavage , making the asari Matron grunt in surprise and fall with her back to a wall. Most women would be shocked and/or outraged Rayna Cardiga's position. But as doctor, and a compassionate person, her first thought was to check and see Janice Jackson was all right.

"Are you all right dear? I didn't trip you did I?"

Janice just sputtered as she tried to recover from the fact that she had her face buried in another woman's cleavage. "I-I-I'm fine. Sorry, sorry." She tried to compose herself but was still flustered by what just happened. "You, uh, didn't trip me. I think it was some kid. I'm fine."

"Are you okay honey?" Michael Smith asked with concern, having rushed to his partner's side when he saw her knocked down.

"I'm fine Mike, she just startled me." Rayna reassured Michael.

"Again, I apologize." Janice kept apologizing, trying her best to try and salvage this situation. She had been trained for a lot of things when working in the field, falling face first into the boobs of another woman, an alien woman at that, was NOT included in the program. The most mortifying fact was that it had been the woman she was shadowing. "I should have been more careful." 'Oh god... my handler is going to kill me for this...' She thought to herself.

But Rayna Cardiga and Michael Smith were very different from the kind of people that Jackson was used to. They saw her as young woman who appeared to be embarrassed, anxious, and possibly injured. So they helped her to her feet and Michael said, "Are you SURE you're all right?...if you hit your head we should probably get that checked out."

Janice stepped back, waving one of her hands back and forth. "No, no. I'm fine. Really, I'm fine." The other was holding her basket holding her purchases, and was sending a signal for assistance, while keeping it hidden from view. "I apologize for so rudely imposing on you like this." She kept trying to get away from the couple, for once cursing just how nice selfless the pair were. Had they been like most any other human or asari, she would have left the area by now and reported to her handler. "I'll be on my way, have a good day now." She tried to leave, only for Reyna to gently grab ahold, but before more could be said, they heard someone call out.

"Darling!" an 'asari' said as she emerged from the crowd, enfolding the surprised rookie agent in an embrace. Whispering into her ear, "Tell them you have a headache, stupid.", right before lightly kissing Jackson on the mouth.

The ONI Agent was in shock she recognized that the 'asari' in question was actually her handler, Katya Geran, who had reported back to HQ on Earth weeks ago. Returning to Jarum just a few days ago. Although this was the first time that Janice had actually seen her direct supervisor since Geran had gotten back.

Quickly catching on to what was going on, Janice pretended to stumble for a second, falling into Katya's arms. "Oh...sorry about that love, I think I may actually be coming down with something." She moaned pitifully, adding to the act, "I told you it was a bad idea for 'fun time' after so much of that rum you love so much."

"We should get you checked out if you're not feeling well. we'll give you a check up at the clinic at no charge." Michael generously offered.

Katya feigned surprise at the 'news'. "Oh! So you two are the ones helping everyone in this town for free?" She smiled at the couple when they gave her surprised look, "Oh don't be so surprised. I'm a bit of a gossip, even as hidden as you two are, news of two selfless people helping the needy still get around." She flashed an award winning smile, "And thank you so much for the offer. We would really appreciate that."

As the four made their way to the Community Health Clinic, they all chatted about their lives on Jarum. Of course everything the two ONI agents said was lies, and Katya did most of the talking on their side. Trying to put the doctors at ease, and convince them that the two agents were a nice human/asari couple, just like Rayna and Michael.

But once they reached the modest building that functioned as the clinic, a sangheili was waiting for Smith and Cardiga outside.

Both ONI agents froze for a sec at the sight of the Sangheili, despite this one's apparent youth and lack of experience. He, since both of them had been trained to be able to tell the genders apart, was small for his kind, under the seven feet in height that was the norm. The lack of scars and muscle build-up also pointed to the fact that this one had not trained or been in any fights. Even a Sangheili Minor, the lowest of their soldiers, had a number of scars from training.

"So...who's your friend?" Katya asked, keeping the nervousness out of her voice, even as she reached for the holdout pistol strapped under her clothes.

"Oh this is Doctor Voro Tulum, he's helping us on a little...project were working on." Michael said awkwardly. For he was a man uncomfortable being secretive. For such a thing went against his basically good and honest nature.

Voro just huffed at the new arrivals, his way of greeting them, before turning his attention to the doctors. "Cardiga, Smith, you did not say that you would be bringing others to our discussion. I might be unblooded, but my uncles taught me well enough." He narrowed his eyes, his lips flanging for a second. "It is your decision, but I have the results with me." He tapped a tablet that he held his talons.

But for all their good and trusting natures, Smith and Cardiga weren't stupid. So Rayna looked at their new 'friends' and said "could you please wait out here for a minute while we talk to our colleague?" With Michael adding a moment later "sorry but our own medical standards demand that these procedures be confidential."

Katya just waved them off, "It's alright, I understand. We'll just wait here until you get back." Referring to the waiting room, as sparse as it was. The two doctors nodded their thanks before turning their attention back to Voro and moving to another room, closing the door behind them. As soon as the doors closed, Katya dropped the facade before tearing into the rookie. "You idiot! Just what were you thinking, getting that close to them?" She whispered, so as not to be overheard.

"Well you said to closely observe them!" Janice replied defensively. "Besides, we're at the clinic now, and we can probably start making regular visits here now if we become their friends."

"That's only because I managed to save you before anything else." Katya retorted, "Still, good job back there, playing along like you did. I thought you were going to pass out after that kiss."

Janice blushed profusely, "T-t-that, I wasn't expecting you to do something like that!" She squeaked. "And why do you even look like an asari anyways?"

"You shouldn't even be asking a question like that in public. AND I wouldn't even consider answering here and now, if better agents than you hadn't already determined that there's no surveillance in this area other than ours." Katya replied coldly.

Janice bowed her head meekly, 'I'm just a rookie', she thought to herself, not daring to voice such defeat. Glancing at the door the three doctors had disappeared behind, she asked, "Should we try to find out what that Sangheili was here for? I never thought I'd see one of them as a doctor of all things."

"As I was just telling you, we have the place bugged," Katya said contemptuously as she used her neural implants to listen to the conversation in the other room. Smiling triumphantly at the younger agent a moment later. Spelling it out for Janice Jackson directly.

"This is what's its all about little girl...Voro has just confirmed their findings telling them its a VERY strong match. Which means you're going to see a lot more blue ONI agents in the near future."

"What's a match?" Janice asked in confusion.

Katya's initial impulse was to let the younger woman stew in her own ignorance. But if she read Michael and Cardiga right they would soon make their discovery public anyway. So she told Jackson. Grinning like a predator as Janice gasped in shock.

**APUFMKII**

In another part of the Hegemony, at one of the increasingly more secured military bases on Khar'Shan, Datak Korra and several of his 'peers' and subordinates were in attendance of a meeting discussing the latest event: The Uprising on Crematoria.

"The Department of Information Control has largely managed to contain the broadcasts coming from the planet." A Captain said, "They've set up Electronic Countermeasure Jammers in orbit of the planet, no more broadcasts are escaping the area." The insignias on his uniform marking him as part of the actual department, rather than just relaying information given to him thirdhand.

"Suppression of the initial broadcast has already since begun," the captain continued after no one spoke up, "Damage control has proven to be effective, but parts of the broadcast are still being recorded and retransmitted by later-generation sources."

"So in short," Another officer, this one a general, spoke up. "Your department has utterly failed to do anything in effectively silencing this broadcast." A series of nods went around the room as other officers agreed with the general. "So, for once the DIC has actually fallen flat. It's about time someone humbled you, however the circumstances are."

"As that may be," Datak Korra said before anyone could offer a rebuttal, having grown tired of the bickering, "our primary concern should be Crematoria, specifically, what we are to do now."

"We don't have to do anything right away, the rebels on Crematoria have no warships and few spaceworthy vessels at all...moreover the population there has always had to imports all its food, we can simply starve them out" the DIC Captain explained.

"And the risk of them figuring out a means of breaking through the jamming signals?" The previous general rebuked, "That mining colony has some of the strongest and most durable broadcast systems in the Hegemony, as you all know. Something that's needed to maintain constant contact."

"And the longer this goes on, the chances of an outside entity taking notice grows with each passing day. No matter how isolated or unknown the colony is. I'm speaking from my own personal experience." Korra added.

Datak Korra's career had first gotten a boost when he was a young soldier who had, through admittedly more luck more than skill, killed an STG operative who had been investigating batarian raiders, said operative having established a safe house on the border world where Korra had been stationed. Thanks to Korra's talent for self promotion, he had used that early victory to put his career on the fast track, telling the events of that day in such a way to his advantage. Altering his image in the eyes of many. And over the course of several years, he had shot through the ranks due to a few key victories. Victories that the High Admiral had earned, rather than been gifted through luck. Though he had never forgotten that early lesson in how perception could be more important than, and even define, reality.

He recalled how during a batarian skirmish with a minor Terminus power, he and the platoon under his command had silently seized the second largest city on the planet. Only for things to nearly go wrong and abandoning the subjugation of the planet entirely when evidently one of the other colonies took notice of the silence and called for help.

"If that's the case, perhaps we should just gather whatever forces we can, then simply overwhelm the rebellious slaves through numbers and tactics." Someone suggested.

"And you have obviously never lead an actual fighting force on the ground, Uro." A general rebuked. "Crematoria is a nightmare to fight in though, our troops can't fight outside at all without a lot of protective gear and the settlements themselves have no wide open spaces, most of the colony is made up of tunnels that can easily be caved in or blocked, we could lose hundreds to thousands of troops trying to seize those tunnels" General Quso explained.

"There is also the threat that they broadcasted as well. One that was thankfully jammed before it could even leave the planet." The DIC officer added. "They have threatened to simply level the entire colony, along with the mining network should any Hegemony troops attempt to, in their own words, 'claim the first Free Nation of the Batarians'."

Most of the officers fidgeted uncomfortably at the words. No major batarian settlement had been truly independent of the Hegemony since their species had begun to colonize other worlds. Their self-interests, upbringing, and ideology compelled them all to deny the very idea. Yet the slaves on Crematoria had seized the world all the same.

"We need to admit to ourselves what kind of enemy are fighting; these radicals consider it a victory to hurt us, even if they should die in the process. Should we try to reconquer Crematoria, they will gladly fight us to the last, and make our forces pay in blood for the victory, along with destroying as much of the colony's infrastructure as possible. They would rather die as martyrs, then even consider living under our rule again." Korra bluntly stated.

"So, what are we to do then, sir?"

Korra leaned back in his chair as he contemplated the question. Every scenario he could think of regarding Crematoria, there was always losses of some sort. Biological weapons, while normally all too effective, were virtually useless on Crematoria. The safeguards used to keep out the extreme temperatures and maintain a habitable environment, also served as quarantine measures. The slaves would be able to contain any sort of viral outbreak. Chemical weapons would make the mines inaccessible until the weapons lost their effectiveness, which could take decades if not centuries. And as Quso had explained, a conventional assault was out of the question.

In the end, the High Admiral saw only one option. "We level the colony." Shock and disbelief was the shared reaction by all those present as he continued. "Whatever option we take will be either inefficient or result in significant losses. The colony is lost to us no matter what happens. The rebellious slaves will see everything be turned to rubble and ash before it is taken from their hands. We simply shall accelerate that decision."

"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" the representative from the DIC said indignantly.

"Of course I can. I command the batarian military, NOT the Department of Information Control" Korra shot back coldly.

Many of the other officers present wanted to disagree too. Destroying an entire Hegemony colony seemed wasteful at best. Especially considering the fact that there could still be batarian citizens alive on Crematoria. Technically nobody but the President and/or the Senate had the authority to make that kind of decision.

But none of them dared to publicly disagree with Korra. Even though he officially had to report to the President, and was dependent on the Senate for funding, in actuality he could do largely as he pleased. Moreover, prominent enemies of his had a way of simply 'disappearing.' And if they annoyed him enough, their families would too.

**APUFMKII**

Ever since it had been realized by the Rebels that the Spartans, the ones who had started the Rebellion and aided in its growth, were humans, there had been a great deal of wariness when it came to the super-soldiers. Particularly among those who been living in Citadel space at the time of the short lived UNSC/Council War before their enslavement. Those who had been enslaved prior to the UNSC's introduction by gunfire, were quickly filled in on the war.

Those who had been born slaves were used to the idea that people with great power could (and would) exploit those without it. Despite the fact that as rebels, they were explicitly rejecting the might-makes-right philosophy and master/slave dynamic of the Hegemony, it was hard for them to completely shake off the expectation that the Spartans (who were undeniably ruthless and strong) could start exploiting them at any moment.

Many had given the Spartans a wide berth after that. Still, the harsh feelings did not last long as the Spartans continued carrying out their aid and missions, despite whatever feelings against them or that they may have had. Showing stoic professionalism to some, while presenting an approachable front for others.

Then, the Spartan's Assault on the Hegemony Castle Facility happened. While, at the time, it had instilled hope and respect for the Spartans for the harsh blow they had dealt against the Hegemony, something else had taken root as well.

Fear.

The majority of the rebels were coming to see the Spartans as invincible heroes. The Rebellion's sword and shield against the brutal Hegemony. But the more thoughtful and/or cynical rebels were becoming all too aware of just how powerful the humans were, and how dependent the Rebellion was on them. Wondering if and when the humans would turn on them, and try to hurt and exploit them as those in power all too often had.

Cara T'Val was unquestionably the most prominent person in the Rebellion who felt this way. Which was the main reason that Jella Korragan had not taken her asari lover with her when she had gone to greet the Spartan reinforcements. Leaving Cara behind to take care of the orphan batarian and asari girls that T'Val seemed to have informally adopted.

Jella Korragan herself didn't completely trust the Spartans (except perhaps for John Doe, the only male Jella could imagine ever willingly inviting to her bed). But her hatred of the Hegemony and desire to see it gone vastly outweighed any concerns about her human allies. Frankly Jella would have willingly allied with the devil himself if it gave her a chance against the Hegemony and its aristocratic elite.

Still, Jella had made sure that the only ones present were those almost fanatically loyal to the Spartans. Essentially who would side with the Spartans should a schism ever occur within the Rebellion, that it ever would.

"So, any idea when your friends will be coming, John?" Jella asked as she scanned the skies, searching for the faintest of blurs that would signify the presence of the human ship. Though, she didn't expect to see it until it was about to touch down. "You know we can't stay too long out here, right? We only have so much time." Jella pointed out, referring to how the Hegemony was always on the lookout for any Rebel activity, and moved in on any potential targets within minutes. The longer they were out here, the chances of their being spotted and attacked rose.

"They'll be here." John answered, not taking his eyes off the night sky. "We won't be staying any longer than we have to."

Jella frowned at the nonchalant way the Spartan had responded, 'It's like he's not afraid of being found at all.' She thought to herself, 'Then again, he does have a reason for that.' She turned her attention back to the night sky.

Suddenly, John spoke up. "They're here." Before she could even ask where, a waypoint appeared in the sky, projected onto the glasses that provided a Heads-Up Display, courtesy of the UNSC, An outline of the still cloaked ship appearing soon after. "Alright let's-" She started to order before John stopped her.

"Wait." Jella didn't have a chance to ask why, nor did she have to. Above, the active camouflage faded, leaving parts of the ONI Prowler exposed to the naked eye.

'Are they planning on just dropping supplies or something?' She thought to herself. 'They can't possibly be thinking of jumping from that height. Nothing could survive that except maybe a krogan.' She got answer a moment later.

A dozen silhouettes fell out from the Prowler's hold, falling through sky, approaching terminal velocity, hurtling for the ground below. At first, Jella had thought she had been right, that it had only been supplies. Then, four more leapt from the craft, nosediving through the air. Jella's jaw dropped, "Are they insane?!" the four figures gained speed, actually flying past the crates that had precede them.

The Rebel leader thought they would deploy some form of chutes, but when that never happened, her concern spiked. Then, they spun. Going end over end, their feet now coming first, their arms stretched out, thrusters on their backs popped open and flared, slowing their descent. Even so, when they finally landed, their speed and sheer weight combined created a small dust cloud and crater in the dirt.

The crates landed around them in a similar manner, creating more impressive craters and dust clouds. Leaving one Batarian Rebel and one Spartan with a light coating of dirt, the former all but gaping at what just happened. "How did? That's not...this isn't possible…" John just placed a hand on her shoulder, with the unspoken promise that he would explain later.

The four apparent Spartans rose and stepped towards the waiting pair. The first one to approach was a woman, if the way the armor hugged her body was an accurate sign. Her helmet was decidedly different from Johns with what looked like a number of optics over where her eyes would be. She snapped off a sharp salute. "Spartans-058, 111, 006, and 120, reporting for duty." John returned the salute, at which point, she relaxed. "Hello John."

John nodded. "Hello, Linda. It's good to see you." He had recognized her the moment she had stood, Linda was perhaps one of the most graceful of the Spartans in how she walked, bested perhaps only by Kelly. That and the sniper rifle that she carried on her back, seeing as she was THE Sniper of Snipers. He turned towards the others, each with their own unique armor. All of them significantly more battle-scarred than any of the other Spartans. Two men, and one more woman. "Jai, Mike, Adriana." He called to them, identifying each of them by their gait and armor. Jai wore the Close-Quarters Battle, or CQB, variant, Mike opting for the Extra-Vehicular Activity, or EVA, armor, and Adriana preferring the privately manufactured Rogue Variant.

Jai stepped forward, "Master Chief. Oops, I mean, Spartan-Commander 117. That is what you're going by now right?" Jai, or rather, Jai, Mike and Adriana were the Spartans of Gray Team, the UNSC's premier team for operating behind enemy lines. With little to no support, and providing the same. The reason for this was that, compared to other Spartan-IIs, they were the most undisciplined of them. And quite easily fit into civilian life.

They just didn't follow specific orders very well. Being more effective with a general goal. Of course, this lead to a lack of discipline, nothing on the scale of Diego though. John ignored the jab and just ordered, to both the Spartans and the Rebels, many of whom were still slack-jawed by the Spartan Airdrop, "Alright, everyone grab the supplies and load them up. We're moving out now!"

The Rebels snapped out of their stupor and the supplies were soon loaded and they were all on their way. Gray Team taking the back of one of the trucks for themselves, while Linda, John and Jella shared another.

"So, why Gray Team?" John asked. "The plan didn't call for a specific team, but why them?"

"Lord Hood learned of the Operation, and though he has allowed it continue, the timetable of the plan has been accelerated."

John nodded his head in understanding. Gray Team would fit the role perfectly then, in stepping up the plan's timetable. Their tactics would deal heavy blows against the Hegemony in a small time frame. "Tell me everything else that's been happening back home."

In the time that it took Linda to fill John in everything that had been happening both on the homefront and in Citadel Space as far as the UNSC knew, the truck had managed to return to base with no incidents.

The building currently serving as the rebel headquarters was an abandoned bookstore (in one of Overseer City's worst neighborhoods) that was set to be demolished in less than a month. But until then it functioned as a decent base of operations for them. Most of the rebels enthusiastically greeted Jella and the new Spartans as soon as they arrived. But Cara T'Val was absent.

"Where's Cara?" Jella asked, annoyed that her young lover wasn't around to greet her.

"Oh she's just watching some news program with the kids." one of Korragan's followers answered casually.

Jella made her way to the little room she and Cara had claimed as their own. Out of curiosity (and having nothing better to do at the moment) the new Spartans followed her. They found Cara sitting on the floor in front of a large holoscreen (the orphaned asari and batarian girls sitting on her lap). All of them watching the news footage being broadcast Live from the Hierarchy colony of Jarum (via the extranet).

"Cara, why are you and the kids hiding out here?" Jella asked.

"Shh...watch." the little asari girl told the rebel leader, her eyes never leaving the screen. Cara didn't even show any signs that she had heard her lover.

These were the first words the little girl had ever spoken to Jella (being too scared of Korragan to say anything before). So Jella complied, more out of surprise more than anything else. Wondering what could have seized all three's attention in such a powerful way.

Realizing almost immediately that a human male and asari doctor were being interviewed. As they explained their latest scientific findings to the public. The man and asari sitting down and holding hands, a well dressed sangheili standing directly behind them.

"-are the colonial doctors who made the initial discovery, and their colleague who has reaffirmed their findings with his own experiments." A reporter off-screen said before the human doctor, his name listed beneath him as Michael Smith, started speaking.

"When we," referring to himself and the asari, "first started this research, we had done it as a gag, a joke if you will. We had expected to find absolutely no relations between our two DNA samples. After all, why would there be? Our two species grew up light-years from the other, making it all but impossible for there to be any similarities."

"Yes, you can imagine our surprise when we did find similarities." The asari continued, the text on-screen identifying her as Rayna Cardiga, letting the human doctor, who was looking flustered, take a break. "It soon became a near obsession as we couldn't believe our own results, and thought that there had to be something wrong, with either our samples or our instruments. But no, we found nothing." Shaking her head to emphasize her point.

"And what about you, sir?" The cam shifted onto the Sangheili (identified as Doctor Voro Tulum) as someone off-screen asked. "What were your thoughts on this discovery?"

"At first, when they had approached me with their findings, I had thought them to be mad." The Sangheili answered, "Then, at their request, I ran my own examinations. The results were, in a word, incredible. But the science did not lie. Considering I did so with samples of my own, rather than what they provided me." Referring to the two doctors. "The results do not lie."

"Humanity and Asari, share genetic markers. The two races are, without a doubt, genetically related to each other and undoubtedly share a common ancestor at some point in both their histories" Voro continued to explain.

"So the asari and humanity are sister species?" the reporter stated dubiously.

"Not quite...are more like cousins." Rayna admitted. "A precursor race all but certainly interfered in one, perhaps both species' evolution. But before you ask, it is impossible, for us at least, to tell if the DNA was taken from the asari, and implanted into humanity, or the other way around."

"Can you believe it Jella!" Cara exclaimed as she turned away from the news program and turned towards her lover. Staring at the female batarian with wide eyes.

"Yeah...its weird...but I always thought humans looked like hairy asari." Jella said with a shrug. Not quite sure how she felt about this revelation. Although she was fairly certain she cared a lot less than Cara.

"You mean Asari were humans with scales and tentacle heads." Mike said, butting into the conversation. "Don't forget, we were here first before any of you brats."

"The asari started to colonize other worlds and solar systems long before any modern race" Cara said in defense of her people. Offended by the stranger's arrogance and bad attitude. Unconsciously clutching the girls closer to her in the face of the threatening male.

"Sure, you got us beat in that." Mike admitted, though thoroughly annoying Cara with how offhandedly he said it, "But humanity had an interstellar empire before any 'modern' race had anything larger than clans. We're just reclaiming all of that." Not noticing, or rather, not caring about the rising ire of the asari around him, the Spartan-II added more fuel to the fire when he added, "And who basically kicked aside your 'Destiny Ascension' a couple of years ago?"

"Shut up. Nobody here cares about your government's propaganda. And if you were all really all-powerful, humanity wouldn't need people like us to weaken your enemies." Cara replied angrily, the children in her lap starting to get anxious in the face of the mounting tension in the room.

Mike just snorted at what he considered to be impotent anger. Before he could offer a retort, he heard his CO order, "Spartan-120, end what you are doing." Mike glanced at John, give a shrug and tilt of his head to show his assent.

Give a half-bow to the incensed Cara, he started moving towards the trucks, "C'mon people, help me unload this gear. First ones get to try out some new toys, courtesy of Misriah Armories."

Under the stern gaze of their commander, the other Spartans shared looks. Uncomfortably aware of the fact that they had made very bad first impression, though admittedly, they had expected this. Mike-120 was a very brash individual, with a very abrasive personality. He always aggravated those not close to him. They had developed a thick enough skin that whatever Mike said never bothered them.

Still, the two remaining members of Gray Team thought it best to play nice. Jai went first, "Spartan Jai-006, Gray Team leader." He introduced himself. "I apologize for my teammate's words and behavior, he is not...humble, for lack of a better term. Do not let his words define who he is. While abrasive, he is incredibly loyal to those he trusts. Were it not for his unwillingness to leave me behind, I would have died several times over."

As Jai stepped back, the remaining Gray Team member stepped forward. "Spartan Adriana-111. Gray Team." She gave them all a two fingered salute. "Look, about my brother, I'm sorry that he's an ass, but that's who he is. I won't apologize for him because that's his job, not mine. Don't take what he said too personally. I've had to live with it since I've meet him." Looking down at Cara, she added. "Don't worry about sister, or is it cousin? If he bothers you again, let me know, and I'll sort him out."

With their piece said, the two went off to join their brother in unloading the trucks. John left a moment later, giving the two a respectful nod as he did so. Leaving Cara, Jella, and the kids alone in the room.

"Listen Cara...the humans might be the asari's space cousins or whatever. But they're still the same people that they were yesterday. Remember, most of the people oppressing the batarians ARE batarians. Just because somebody is related to you, doesn't mean that they're on your side." Jella gently explained to Cara.

"I just thought for a moment that; if humanity and the asari were related, it would mean that we were kind of like family. And we wouldn't have to fight" Cara slowly admitted. Her voice little more than a whisper, the little ones in her lap watching the two closely.

"Maybe you won't, the asari aren't the kind to start wars." Jella said reassuringly.

Although in truth she doubted it would be that nice or simple. The obnoxious new Spartan seemed to imply that humanity had some sort of Manifest Destiny to rule the galaxy, or 'reclaim' it, in his words. She hoped that Mike was just an arrogant hothead. Because if his leaders shared such sentiments, then once the Hegemony was overthrown, they would almost certainly try to use the batarians they just freed to further their own dreams of empire.

**APUFMKII**

Since the Rebels had laid claim to Crematoria, a small fleet of warships had been blockading the Mass Relay, jamming any transmissions outgoing from the planet as well. Now that fleet had increased twofold, reinforcements coming through the Mass Relay. On approach to the planet itself.

There were no transports within this fleet. Frigates and cruisers made up the bulk of this fleet, at its head, three of the Hegemony's dreadnoughts. The fleet had no plans for any invasion. Instead they were on mission to (as the High Admiral had put it) "purge the infection."

The rebels sent out their few ships (all freighters) to meet the enemy fleet. Planning to use the civilians spacecraft themselves as weapons. Ramming them into the Hegemony warships.

But the rebel ships were aging unarmed freighters piloted by people who barely knew how to work the controls. The warships destroyed them without even bothering to slow down. Taking up orbit around Crematoria.

The batarian fleet ignored the rebels attempts to contact them as they took up position around Crematoria. Awaiting the order from Datak Korra. Preparing to unleash a new kind of hell upon those living on the world below.

"It is said that victory belongs to the bold. Accurate, if deceiving. In war, those who are hesitant will surely fall to their adversary's resolve. By that same token however, those who first overstep the bounds of the conflict, may find themselves unleashing a force that they can not withstand."

-Thel'Vadam, in regards to the escalation of warfare.

Author's Note:

aDarkOne: I always thought it was weird that the asari were the only aliens that looked like humans in Mass Effect (except maybe for the Quarians, but the game developers kept their appearance mysterious until ME3). Add in the fact that it's canon that the Protheans interfered in the asari's development, and it seemed natural to assume that it wasn't just a coincidence that humans and asari look so alike.

Especially given how most of the fandom seems to assume that asari look just as much like women without their clothes on :)

Of course, that actually seems like a fair assumption. Given how many times in the game we see the asari virtually naked, and that nobody comments on the asari having any weird features under their clothes. Besides, if the asari had something like razor sharp nipples they wouldn't make very good space elves : - ]

The character Rayna Cardiga was born from this train of thought. I deliberately gave her a girl-next-door vibe to help illustrate just how much humans and asari are (potentially) alike. And also to just have the perspective of an more ordinary type of person on all these galaxy changing events.

Of course Rayna and Michael are in the crosshairs of the galaxy's Powers That Be now, so time will tell how long they can remain as they were.

Follower38: Well aside from that very disturbing imagery my co-writer just provided, or is it comical, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Took a bit of a while, but that's life for you. As you can see, the stakes are rising as Spartan-IIs are taking to the field in force. And it is a confirmation that John Doe is indeed John-117. For those who did not realize it, or more accurately, did not think that it was indeed, 117.

For obvious reasons, he is not the legendary figure as he was in the Halo series, due to the events of Halo: Combat Evolved, and subsequently, the majority of the rest of the series, never occurring as well.

For those of you who think that I am going out of character with Gray Team, well, it's called a fanfiction for a reason. If you have grievance with John Doe being John-117, send me a PM. But please, be reasonable and rational in your reasons, I don't need a fanboy rant. Though, considering the maturity in the majority of my reviews I've received, this request is probably and hopefully a redundant one.

As always, please review and let us know what you thought.