Alright guys, back already Didn't expect that, did you? :)

Well, I recieved a bunch of positive reviews on the latest chapter, and as usual, they were just heart-warming. Especially a couple of special people who really seem to enjoy what I'm doing here. Their reviews are really paart of what keeps me going :)

Also, I'm posting this one now because, as silly as it might sound, one of my readers said that the only complaint he had was that I didn't write fast enough. So, here's to prove you wrong my friend ;D

Noveria - Charged and Locked

October 9th

Arcturus System

Arcturus Space Station

Dry-Dock overview room C-2

17:42 (Actual Station time)

Fleet Admiral Anna Fisher looked out her window from the overview room of the space-station. It had been two days since she wrote her last message to her brother, and she had yet to receive a reply. Considering the news, she would actually have been surprised if her 'big' brother would have had the time to reply, seeing as the Normandy was reported heading towards Noveria, and more specifically port Hanshan, the major corporate facility on the planet, and also the one connected to most of the more dubious research-facilities. Other than the Normandy, the Council had sent another frigate, the TSF Centurion. From what Anna knew, it was under the command of Captain Decarissa Feltan, an officer of the kind you would expect to find in the Hierarchy: Stubborn, strong and tactical. Also with the individual thinking of a human. This placed her above the standard officer in her own right. Anna had met her once on duty, during a counter-raid on a Batarian colony to liberate a mass of slaves before they were sold off and disappeared from the radar. Anna could still remember the surprise she had felt when meeting the Turian woman, a feat in itself, seeing as most Turians in the higher positions were men, even if the women were trained on the same terms. She could also fondly remembered how they had met under less than ideal terms, solving a brawl between a human and a Turian marine, having to shout both of them down. Anna couldn't remember what had caused the fight to begin with, though she guessed it was the same kind of anti-Semitism still evident in both races since the First Contact War. After that there had been a short time of mistrust between the two races onboard, but she and Decarissa had solved that quite simply. A sparring match. To be accurate, it had been a match between herself and her Turian counter-part.

"Sprits, you just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Like I said, humans are like Turians trying to duck: we don't know how." She had said, sending her opponent backwards with a punch to the upper chest.

"Damn… just admit it, you're getting tired." The Turian recon-sergeant had said, rubbing the place where the fist had impacted. Anna, being a Master Sergeant at the time, had just smirked at the comment;

"Not as tired as you Feltan. Your dad may have been some kick-ass admiral back then, but you just can't handle me-"a curled fist, consisting of three talons had cut her short as she received a rather nasty cut on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" The Turian had growled, determination burning in her eyes.

"Nah, I was just thinking how you can even hold-" She said, swinging at the Turian; "- a fork or a pencil with only three fingers. Evolution sure screwed your kind over, huh?" The fist had hit Decarissa right under her jaw, knocking her on the floor for the third time. Seeing as the Turian attempted to get up, but seemingly hadn't had the strength to do so, the referee had deemed Anna the winner. Though when people, both human and alien had expected Anna to either deliver a final kick to her defeated opponent, or simply leave the stage, she had surprised them both by bowing down, helping Decarissa on her feet again. One of the mandibles had been turned at a wrong angle, and looked as if it hurt like hell.

"Good match. Feeling up for a new one?" the Turian had asked, seemingly ignoring the medic trying to tend to the obviously dislodged piece of facial bone. Anna had been taken aback by the cockiness in her voice, having expected her to say something like 'you only won because this and that'. To say she had been impressed would be an understatement.

"No thank you… but I wouldn't mind your company in the cafeteria." She had said with a smile. One the Turian had, if a bit surprised, returned.

"God… how long has it been… ten years? Fifteen?" She said to no one in particular, trying to figure out if she had missed their annual meet-up-and-kick-ass day. The two of them had shared extranet addresses after that day, and had been seeing each other every year since that day, occasionally getting in a few scrapes that could only be solved with fists or talons… and the occasional use of a bar chair. Anna still walked with a slight pain from the injury she had sustained while tossing a bar chair made from caste-steel at a Batarian thug and his group, thinking two women to be weak and easy targets. Their attempt had ended with them being left unconscious in a back alley, six blue eyes and a pair of broken limbs. After that, they had gone out drinking. Smiling at the 'happy' memories, Anna turned her attention back to the console next to her, and while absentmindedly looking at the construction taking place in the dry-docks, she pulled out the large schematics for the prototype dreadnaught she had designed. Actually, it was part human, part Volus design, as she had been given access to the designs of the broadside guns for the new ship by the little folk, in return for a renewed trade-contract and the schematics for the engines on the gunships. That was another thing her sharp mind allowed her to do: ensuring the economy of her own projects, in her own way. In the end, she had ripped of the volus, given them soon-to-be public data, while receiving money and ingenious designs. Thinking about how the Volus would react when the Alliance still sold the schematics to the rest of the galaxy, she couldn't quite contain a chuckle, but stiffened her behavior when another person stepped up to the window next to her, hands at his back;

"How's the construction going Anna?" The old man said. There weren't a lot of her colleagues she allowed calling her by her first name…

"As well as one could expect Steve… it's cutting edge we're working on here…" …But the old admiral was one of them.

"I am still a little confused as to how you actually obtained these blueprints… most of this isn't even invented yet, and the rest… if it were anyone but you, I would have called the person out on the bullshit, but…"

"Yeah, I get that. Let's just say I got them from a close source." She said, a cheeky smile etched on her lips caused a few of her wrinkles to turn upwards as well. Hackett just shook his head;

"Anna, do we have to play these games every time you get your hands on something first?" Hackett said, holding a cup of soda to his lips, enjoying the prickling feeling he got from the carbon dioxide in the sweet liquid.

"Afraid so uncle." She said with a teasing tone to her words. Hackett was her mother's brother, and as such he had been one of those helping her through her childhood, lost in a new world. He was also the only one beside Thomas who knew of her real past. Thinking about it, maybe she had been a little hypocritical back at the meeting with Thomas, seeing as Hackett had known about her past for more than fifty-five years.

"I swear, it's like listening to a child-version of you, all over again…" He said, sighing. She had always been like this, although it had become more evident the older she got. Sometimes, he asked himself if she would ever actually be able to find a man worth her time. There sure as hell hadn't been one so far.

"Yeah well, what' ya gonna do?"

"I would still like to know where you have those schematics from, seeing as even the Salarians haven't invented a weaponized version of ion-technology yet." He said, changing to a more officer-like voice.

"As I said, a close source. Really close in fact." She said, remembering the fateful meeting between her and Thomas, seeing the shock in his eyes, how he had studied her name-tag, then looked her straight in the eyes. It was hard to say that she felt a real bond with him yet, having only met him once, but family would be family.

"Elaborate a bit please, I haven't had my pills yet, and quite frankly, I'm not in the best of moods. You may have heard that port Hanshan has dropped out of contact…"

"Yeah, I have… that also brings me to answer your question. The Normandy, the ship commandeered by John'Shepard… you know, the Quarian?"

"Yes, I know who he is. I met him on Akuze a few years back." Hackett said, remembering the scene he had been greeted by upon arrival to the planet, seeing what had looked like big fingers reaching up from the sand, dragging down the shuttles, killing fifty Alliance Marines.

"Well, on that ship… remember my side-job a week or so back, the decoration of a soldier who distinguished himself on Feros?"

"Now that you mention it… his last name… it was…" Hackett said, eyes starting to widen in realization as it hit him. Anna beat him to the punch though;

"No, I don't have a son or nephew you've never met, if that's what you're thinking Steve. Thomas Fisher, the corporal in mention… he's my brother." Anna said, a slight hesitation in her voice. Upon hearing the last words, Hackett inhaled sharply, causing him to drag down a bit of the drink. He ended up coughing and hacking, trying to get air past his irritated air pipe. After a few minutes, and harshly returning the stares of quite a few ensigns in the other end of the room, he finally got his posture back, looking his niece in the eye;

"You need to repeat that one… it sounded like you called a maximum twenty-five year old marine for… your brother? I really hope that's your idea of a bad joke."

"Yuop, always said I had a crazy family, and I am always right." She said with a tired voice, looking out the window. This was mainly to avoid the surely burning stare of Admiral Stephen Hackett.

"I'm… not really sure what to say here… do you even know for sure?" In Hackett's eyes, there were almost only two possibilities: one, she had gone crazy, or two, she was joking. He sincerely hoped for the latter.

"Yeah… I had a DNA-test taken the same day. The doctor probably thought it was a mother-son test… you should have seen his face, Thomas' that is, when he learned… Damn, I wish I had recorded it. Or at least taken a picture." She said, completely unfazed by the fact that the admiral next to her looked like there might be a stroke coming.

"Anna… this is where you are supposed to reveal to me that you are only joking. Hell I still have some difficulties figuring your past out, let alone this supposed brother of yours." He said, rubbing his eyeballs.

"Well, no one ever said being my uncle was easy, did they? Or did you think that being in charge of seven fleets and thousands of human lives would save you from that?" She said, not breaking her eyes from the mounting of what she recognized as a broad-side Mass Accelerator Cannon. It wasn't nearly as powerful as the hull-length main cannon installed in every single warship from cruiser and up these days, but they could fire a fourteen-kilo slug every tenth second, so she reckoned they would do just fine. Especially in a knife-fight like she had planned for them to be used in.

"No… I guess they didn't… so you are actually serious then? You have a brother, and not one your parents just decided to have late?"

"Actually, in theory, he's my older brother… don't ask, and for the moment, I think he is still just as freaked out about it as I was… and as you are at the moment. Listen, I'm not expecting you to believe me, but that guy is my source for these things. He has some way of finding this shit, and quite frankly, what he gives me for free is better than what any Alliance Tech has ever sold me. So I don't plan on losing that source. Which is why I took some precautions with him and his crewmembers the last time they had shore leave here." She continued speaking, only sneaking a quick look to see if her uncle and mentor had had a stroke, or was about to gently pull her in a strap-jacket. Instead, she just saw an old man with a tired smile on his lips, massaging his temples.

"Which brings me to another subject… you wouldn't know what happened to fourteen proto-type phase-II combat-hardsuits we've just developed, would you?" He said, giving her a suspicious stare, though with a small glint in his eyes.

"Well… I may… have included them in my precautions… not like they were gonna be used for anything better than that, and besides… what better way to test them than to put them through the fire?" She responded, a small smile protruding on her lips. Hackett just sighed;

"Then we'd better hope they survive, or that project of yours will lose some funding."

"Yeah right, I've tried that one before. No problems, I'll find some way to finance this shit." She shrugged.

"How come my niece is the only Admiral in the Alliance who swears? I mean, what did I do wrong?"

"Ah, not your fault. Dad just had a… colorful language at times. Kinda stuck." She said with a small smile, remembering the last time she had been home on a visit. To think that she was going to be a grandmother was nowhere near as exciting as her parents going to be great-grandparents. Just a shame Sam was such a douche bag. Kids ought to have a grandfather, not make do with only a grandmother.

"Well, I guess there's nothing I can do there. Any more news on the Noveria situation? I have been told there's a second ship meant to help the Normandy out?" Hackett asked, seemingly in a hurry to change the subject. The very idea of what Anna had called 'jumping' not only went against every single kind of science out there, it also gave him one hell of a headache and had given him more than a few sleepless nights.

"Yeah, Remember Decarissa Feltan?"

"The Turian lieutenant? Yeah, you two always seemed like an odd match, despite the… Hmpf, similarities in behavior and attitude."

"Actually, she's a captain now, commandeering the TSF Centurion. She never could stay away from where the action was." Anna said with a warm smile, wondering if a certain Turian would be sneezing as she spoke.

"I'm surprised, I didn't think reckless behavior helped someone climb the stairs in the Turian military. Still, I suppose I can see why she was promoted, seeing as she has one of the best records of keeping her men alive."

"So you have read up on her? Why am I not all that surprised?" She asked with a wry smile.

"Well… I… had to make sure you weren't running with the wrong crowd, fun as they may be." He stammered, something that almost never happened. Anna took pleasure in knowing she was one of the very few capable of making him do just that.

"Awww, you're still trying to protect me, aren't you? Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm actually a Fleet Admiral now, same rank as yours… maybe with a bit fewer decorations and medals, but same rank. Besides, I'm sixty-two now; you can hardly consider me a small child anymore."

"I know, I know… It's just, I'm getting old, and my favorite niece isn't going to run with the wrong sort of people if I have anything to say about it. Damn the fact that you're only twenty years younger than me."

"Hah, and people call me stubborn. I appreciate it, I really do Steve. Now, I guess you didn't come up here just to ask about suits and personal behavior. What's on your mind?" Anna asked, turning from the view of the construction of one of the largest ships ever made by mankind. Looking at her uncle, she could recognize the look of weariness and a tiny bit of fear.

"I was just contacted by the Citadel Council… there's one hell of a shitstorm coming our way."

…

October 9th

SSV Normandy

"How long till… we get there?" seventy-two

"I think we're till one day out, meaning we'll arrive at Noveria tomorrow… nervous?" Ash says, not breaking off her crunches. I've actually gotten in much better shape since we started this little program of hers, now being able to push it to one hundred crunches, provided I take a break when we reach fifty.

"I would be lying if I said no, so… yeah, I'm pretty fucking nervous at the prospect of going into that kind of hellhole. You?" Seventy-four

"Yeah… I guess I am. You know, even with all the training they give marines… none of it really matters when you step up to a battlefield the very first…time." Seventy-six

"I know… that kinda made itself clear to me on Eden Prime… Damn I was scared at that point." I say, reaching seventy-eight in the meantime.

"I don't know. You seemed pretty much in control back then, surviving and all… just a shame you couldn't tell us about Sovereign's attack… we might have been able to save more than survived on their own…" Oh fuck… I knew this would come up sooner or later.

"Would you have believed me if I had told you?" eighty-three

"No… I guess not. Unless Roku could have popped out and verified it?"

"I don't think he could, not at the time. I get the feeling he's like a character in a game: the longer he sticks with me, the more he learns."

"That is not too far from the truth… though it is a rather crude comparison, don't you think?"

"Yeah well, it's true, isn't it?"

"In a sense, yes. Though I would prefer calling it 'achieving understanding of the limits of your body."

"I suppose that makes sense… hey, by the way, have you ever heard of Tennyson?" Ash suddenly changes the subject, forcing me to stop the exercise.

"Eh… can't say that I have… but from what I know, you have."

"One of dad's sappy poets. He used to love them, both reading to me and the girls, and being read to."

"Sounds like there are worse ways to spend time with your parents. I guess I never really took much time to be with mine, and then one day… poof, I'm here." I say, not really being able to keep the pit in my stomach from affecting my voice. Fuck, I still miss them so much!

"I know… miss yours?" She says. I know it's with the best in mind, but the worst part of it, is thinking about them.

"I do… worst part is, until now I haven't even thought about them. I mean, I didn't live with them at the time I was… sent here, but still… what kind of person am I, to completely forget my parents like this? I just… I guess I just threw them out the mental window the moment I saw you… fuck…" I can feel a few tears coming to my eyes, but I just shut them down hard. I'm not supposed to be crying over something like that. not while I actually have a job to do. I then feel a hand on my shoulder;

"Hey… hey it's okay. If it… helps, then I think my mom would just love you." She says with a warm smile, letting her hand glide over my head, where the side that was burned is just starting to grow back in a somewhat normal length.

"Thanks Ash… you know, I could ask you the same question you've asked me a few times now…" I say, trying to get a normal breathing going.

"What?"

"Why… why me? What is it with me that makes you actually like me? I'm not the brightest, strongest or smartest, hell I have recently been declared autistic, brain-dead and clinically dead… all within two months. It's not as if I bring a promise of stability. Other than that, I'm not even the best looking." For some reason, she responds by impacting a knuckle on my forehead. Looking at her, I recognize the same warm smile I've grown to love over the months, the smile that people don't seem to care about when they call Ash out on her 'racist' remarks over the time.

"Because, you make me feel special… appreciated. You don't look at me and think 'oh, there goes the granddaughter of General Williams, the first human to surrender to alien forces ever' you see the person I am, and you apparently have for a bit longer than I care to think about. Point is, when I'm with you, I feel like the whole military-thing for once doesn't have to be all I have to care about. Damn, I'm not really good with words…" She says, slightly blushing. It's just too adorable. I hold a hand out, cupping her cheek;

"You know… I think you are doing just fine." I say, not being able to keep my lips from parting in a big stupid smile. Ash just blushes even more, returning my smile with her more elegant one.

"Smart-ass…" She mumbles as we come closer to each other, me looking into her eyes. Those beautiful hazel eyes. We close the gap, embracing each other in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. As I just wrap my arms around her, I feel like I'm holding the most perfect woman in the world in my arms, which probably isn't too far from the truth.

"You've said that a few times now… running out of expressions?" If there's one thing capable of ruining the mood, it's one of Roku's untimely interruptions.

"Shut it Danny Phantom, wrong timing."

"And, you are getting better at this boyfriend-thing." Ash says as she pulls away. I just shrug;

"Like I said earlier: I have a good teacher." I can't help a wide grin that probably makes me look like a pervert.

"God, you're still horrible at the dialogue." She says, punching my arm.

"Ouch, what was that for?" I say, rubbing my real arm, since she wouldn't bother hitting the one made of… whatever Emhart said it was made from.

"Call it my way of showing affection. You don't see me hitting anyone else, do you?" She says with a toothy grin. Gods, even her teeth are perfect… how the hell can I even compare to this deity?

"Well, there was this time where you almost smashed that Bosker guy… that mean you love him too?" I say with a snide smirk playing on my lips. This just earns me a new punch;

"Still, sometimes you are an ass… but I guess that's just part of the package, am I right?"

"Yeah well, there's plenty of the package you haven't seen yet." I reply with a smirk. Gods, did I just say that out loud? Sometimes I just wish I could tie a knot on my mouth, to prevent just that kind of remarks. Fully expecting a new punch for my pervy comment, I'm pretty damn surprised when Ash just pulls me in for a new kiss, this time a bit harder than before. Damn… she still tastes like she smells… flowers… because beauty just doesn't seem to be enough…Mara, are you keeping taps on me or something?

"Should I ask her?"

"Wrong, just wrong Roku… can you?"

"Don't see why not, universe intertwine, so deities should as well."

"Let's just hope that means the Dragonborn doesn't show up as well. Thu'um or not, he would die here."

"True… reminds me, I've got a fun story from once where I played the Greybeards…" Yeah, nice joke…

When she finally lets go of my shirt and gently pushes me back, I see the most devilish look in her eyes. Spawn of Chutulhu! What have I unleashed?

"Oh, so when do I get to see the rest of the package?" She says, running a finger down my chest, towards my abdomen. I can feel the sweating becoming a real problem now, cold sweat running down my back, face heating and blood boiling. Not to mention that my heart is trying to pound its way out of my ribcage.

"I… I… err… I…" Of course my mouth has to follow suit, babbling incoherent nonsense, instead of expressing my feelings. The devilish grin disappears from her face, but the look in her eyes persists;

"Oh relax Thom; I'm not going to eat you or anything. Just a bit of teasing, you know?" She says as she continues running her finger in circles on my chest. I bet she can feel the pounding from my heart. As long as she doesn't realize the reason for my shorts suddenly becoming so tight, I think I might live through the day.

"Ahem… are we interrupting something?" A new voice suddenly cuts in, its flanged sound easy to recognize. Tearing my gaze from Ash's finger, I look to my right, discovering Garrus and Nihlus standing a few meters away, one looking highly entertained, the other merely observant. Both of them are wearing the new proto-type armor Jane somehow procured, through means she has refused to reveal. Upon hearing Garrus' voice, Ashley yelps, almost falling backwards over the bench. It's only stopped by me grabbing her hand, pulling her back to a seated position. When she looks at the Turians, I can see the irritation burning in her eyes. At least, that's until she notices their armor.

It looks, for lack of better words, like a turian version of the armor Boss and his men are using, just with some modifications in color. Also, it kinda weirds me out, just how and where Jane found armor pretty much identical to the phase-II armor from Star Wars.

"I seem to remember your sister mentioning armor and weapons in context with the commandoes. Could Jane have obtained them from Anna?"

"I… guess that's possible, but how would she have done that? It's not as if Jane is listed in the databases as a Spectre or commander of the Normandy."

"Beats me how she did it, but you have to admit: there is a connection."

"Garrus, you look… I don't think that kind of armor was originally designed for Turians." Ash says, shooting him and Nihlus a slightly mocking look. It does look pretty damn funny, I'll admit that much. Especially the weird bowl-like top on the armor, as to copy the Turian design. I'm just glad Wrex didn't get one. Imagining one of those suits, with a tail… that would just do me in.

"Yeah well, it was that or use the pinkie-type you normally run around in." He retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

"The purpose of this armor is not to look good, but to increase our chances of survival… though I admit; it does feel a bit more stylish than my old armor. Let's just hope it stacks up." Nihlus says, being the everlasting voice of reason.

"And the optional exoskeleton-mounted miniguns don't have anything to do with you liking it better?" Garrus says, referring to the piece of tech leaning against the wall next to Nihlus. For some reason, Nihlus discarded that part, preferring his normal weapons. I guess I can understand, seeing as you would normally use the weapons you are familiar with.

"No, I would rather stay mobile than be bugged down by that sort of weight. Though it would seem our esteemed chef is of another opinion." Nihlus says, gesturing at the far end of the room, where Nic is practicing with his new toy, swinging around and aiming, guided by Tequila who, for some reason, has taken on the role as his tutor in heavy weapons. I just don't seem to remember her ever having used anything but the pulse-rifle in the game. Still, the movements are remarkable similar to those of the USCM-guys in the movie. I suppose it comes with the regular training. I wonder what Tequila would say if I told her that Cameron supposedly planned the machine-gun to be made from a handle to a regular bike. On the other hand, given her reaction during the movie, perhaps I should just shut up about it.

…

October 10th

Normandy Cargo hold

14:23 (Ship time)

"I have to agree with Nihlus: This does feel oddly stylish, like I'm wearing nice clothes for the first time." I say, flexing my hands in the white-armored gauntlet. This is another thing I could have sworn I would never get to try, and yet here I am, putting on the last piece of a phase-II set of armor. The entire thing is in a dull white color, occasionally with a tint of green, blue or red. It depends on the person wearing it, but I chose the one with a blue tint on it, seeing as it is the closest to the clones in star wars. The breastplate is less flexible than the old hydra-model hard-suit I used before this, but it also feels like it can take more of a beating than the old suit, being made of a mix of alloys, spanning from Graphene-enhanced steel, plastic and a underlying layer of non-Newtonian fluids, and an inner coating of synthetic black foam. Other than that, the left wrist has an incorporated Omni-tool, as well as a communicator that connects to the rest of the squad by a single push of a button, instead of having to dial them up on the tool, or removing the helmet to activate the mike. In the utility belt, which Jane somehow got along with the suits, there are useful stuff such as small packs of medi-gel, which I've finally learned how to use, grenades and emergency-stems containing an adrenaline-engaging fluid. Other than that, the belt contains rations for two days, water included, as well as a water-cleaning tool. I'm guessing that last one is for when the soldier finds a creek or a lake, and instead of suffering from dysentery, allows the person to purify the water before drinking it. For some reason, each belt also carries a rectangular heatsink, about the size of my hand. The odd thing is, we are still using inbuilt heatsinks in our guns, so what's the purpose of having an external one? Other than that, the suit also sports the optional exoskeleton, which I chose because… well, because it has a miniguns with infinite ammo. I don't think that one requires anymore explanation. Besides, if we're going up against xenos, the last thing I need to worry about is finding cover from bullets… unless they have learned to shoot a gun by now.

Anything's possible, I guess…I mutter to myself as I put on the helmet, a modified version of the regular phase-II helmet, seeing as the original Systems Alliance issued helmets actually grants the user a better and easier flow of oxygen than the tell-tale mask of the clone-trooper. Gods, did I just refer to this as 'clone-trooper'? I know the design is similar, scarily so, but it isn't the same thing. This thing was produced by Elkoss Combine, in an unusual partnership with Aldrin Labs, supposedly humanity's biggest and best supplier of weapons and armor. I guess as long as it keeps me alive, I really don't care if it was made by Hanar, though I have yet to see something the Hanar have actually made. Hearing the low hiss as the helmet insulates me from the surroundings, I see a bunch of small data-systems appearing in my visor, kinda like the inside of the Iron Man, just a bit simpler, seeing as the ordinary soldier is supposed to use it, not an eccentric billionaire with practically unlimited funds and an AI in his basement. Also, I don't plan on producing missiles for the Afghani-wars anytime soon. I tap the helmet with a gloved finger, feeling a slight disturbance inside it;

"Testing, testing… is this thing on?" I ask with a small, yet nervous smile as I look around me, observing the rest of the team suit up. One of the fully armored-up forms turns to face me, the bulge in the chest-plate revealing the gender of the wearer.

"Yes Fisher, I believe it is on… but maybe you should turn the volume down, before I lose my hearing." The voice of Liara says, making me aware of the insanely high volume my speaker is currently set on. Mumbling as I fumble with the button for the sound-control, I see Nic step into his exoskeleton, lifting his arms and fists as to try out the mobility. Oddly enough, these things haven't seen much change since the twenty-first century, seeing as the modules all run on the outside of the suit, nodes and modules exposed to incoming fire. A set of tongs, as well as a few cables run across the user's shoulder, latching onto the fifty-kilo minigun. Since right-handed people use the left hand to support most of its weight, I considered dumping the exoskeleton for a few moments, before being lectured in how my shoulder had dislodged the last time I tried lifting something to heavy for my shoulder to keep up. Even though the arm took most of the strain. Maybe I should consider getting a new shoulder as well… as creepy as that might sound.

"Sorry, it should be down now… better?"

"Yes, it does sound more acceptable now, thank you." She says. how come her speaking is so different from how it was in the second game. I know I shouldn't be comparing reality to games anymore, but how could Hudson have missed this? Unless of course, it's my influence that's crippled her manner of speaking. That would just be another nail in the coffin of the original reality, the one that existed before my untimely arrival. I think I'll refrain from asking. Weird as some people may see me, I know when there are questions better left unasked.

"How does it fit?" I ask, simply to make conversation. Liara isn't the easiest person to talk with, but it isn't her fault, being used to spend her time alone in dig sites for the past fifty or so years.

"Well, aside from the slight discomfort of the helmet, given the probable fact the designer though human and Asari heads to be similar enough that a change wasn't needed, giving me a slight headache from my stiff scalp… I suppose it is fine. I will just learn to live with it, I guess."

"But… I thought we still used modified versions of the normal helmets… what happened to the design for Asari?" I can't believe the designers didn't give her an Asari helmet. That or someone else is walking around with room for head-spikes in his or her helmet.

"Yes, but… it is not custom among Asari to wear helmets in low-oxygen areas, and we rarely venture on spacewalks. Instead we tend to adopt breathing equipment So, fully closed helmets for my people were never really developed. Hence the awkwardness of this helmet." Liara says, sounding a bit ashamed.

"You've gotta be shitting me! You girls live for hundreds of years, and never, never did you think of developing closed helmets? Wha- what the hell do you wear when riding a bike, or working in construction?"

"We… I don't know actually. My education was always centered on archeology, not riding motorcycles or building houses." Now she definitely sounds ashamed. Okay, I kinda get why people thought her the ideal love interest in the games, seeing as she is that type of cute nerd, and socially awkward as hell too. Still, it does seem like she's almost overdoing it. But again: I guess spending most of your life in solitude tends to do that.

"Well… that's a bit problematic…" I say, stepping into the external skeleton, allowing the motorized joints to spin to life before I pick up the minigun. It's a smaller model than normally seen on tanks and such, but I guess that's a good thing, seeing as it would just become too heavy to stand upwards with, even with my arm and the exoskeleton. Also, this one looks a bit more accurate, not having such a large area of coverage, but rather focusing on laying down a stream of deadly and precise fire. Pressing the button that causes the barrels to spin up, I point it away from Liara, just in case, and feel the vibrations going through my hands as the weapon roars to life without actually firing anything. Thank the Gods for that function…

"Yes, though I imagine that since I am relatively young, my scalp is still flexible enough to simply bend like the fur covering your species heads."

"It's called hair, you know, like a strand of hair? Is having that really that unusual?" I ask, letting go of the button and putting the gun in a hanging position over my back where it folds up like the rest of the weapons tend to do, ending up resembling a complicated lunchbox, combined with a few short pipes.

"Well… yes. From what I know, you humans are the only civilized beings in the known galaxy sporting fu- hair on your heads. Then again, I do not know if Quarians do. They have been sealed inside their suits for so long, I imagine only few people remember what they look like."

"Maybe you should ask John or Tali? I'm sure they would be happy to answer, and it could be worth adding to your research… in some ways I can't think of at the moment." I say, starting to inspect and oil the joints in the skeleton, as having it getting stuck while gunning down hostiles would be as effective as shooting myself… I think.

"Yes, that could work, but… I am not the best 'people person' as you no doubt have noticed, so…" She says, looking at her feet while she's speaking. I sigh;

"Let me guess: you are afraid to go ask them yourself, fearing you might cause offence in one way or another?" It's really just a guess, but judging by her behavior so far, I'll wager it's not too far from the truth.

"You speak as if you know me… it is true, I do not really know how to ask such… personal questions, without making a scene."

"Fine, I'll ask them. Hold on." I say, starting to walk over to John and Tali, both sporting the new suits, however neither have even spared the miniguns a single glance. I guess Quarians just like to stick to their shotguns. John notices my arrival, and puts down his shotgun, being in the middle of maintaining it I guess;

"Thomas, what can I do for you?" He asks, with a much more military voice than the first time I met him. I guess he's growing into the role;

"First, you seem to be getting better at this whole 'commander business' speaking professional and all that…second, I have a question… or, Liara has one but she is afraid she might cause a scene asking, so I kinda volunteered to do it for her and… John, do Quarians have hair, you know, like humans?" Okay, that was a bit more direct that I would have wanted it, but the die is cast now… so to speak. John's body language, read like a human's, portrays him as being surprised by the question;

"Ehm… I… that's a funny question, but yeah. We have hair in a manner quite similar to you actually. I have only seen a few of my species without their masks on, but all I have seen, their hair was dark, including mine and Tali's." John says, scratching the back of his neck with an armored three-fingered glove. I breathe out a sigh of relief I didn't even know I have been holding in.

"Okay… thanks Shepard- I mean John- Shepard… hhhhrrrrr… what do you want us to call you, actually? I mean, now with Jane onboard, calling both of you Shepard would be a little strange, even with the pronunciation being different, and do you still want the crew to just go with 'John', or is it 'commander' or 'John'Shepard'? Sorry if that came out as too much, but I guess I have been haunted by it for some time… commander." At first John just looks at me, then Tali, than back to me. Then, he laughs. Well, not laughs, but he chuckles;

"Heh, heh… I think 'John' will be fine for now. I might force you to call me 'John'Shepard' later on, but for now, 'John' will do."

"Phew, thanks John… well, I'll just be leaving the two of you alone again. John, Tali." I say, returning to my spot.

"I'm amplifying their conversation, listen to this:" Roku suddenly says, causing me to stop dead in my tracks.

"He is a little strange at times…" The voice of Tali comes from the inside of my head. What the…

"Yeah, but he's solid. I may not trust him with our lives yet, but that's because of his youth. He could snap at some point. I do not doubt his character, or his loyalty, don't get me wrong, I'm just finding myself in need of seeing him a bit more in action before I can fully trust him, that's all…"

"You mean like Nicolai Tengberg?" Tali asks. None of them seems to realize I can hear them, although I almost wish I couldn't. Ignorance is sometimes bliss, like Jacob's dad said it. Never thought I should find myself agreeing with a man who made sex-slaves out of his crew.

"Yeah… remember how he almost snapped back on Feros, when the geth were getting too close for comfort, and Tequila had to slap him to get him back on his feet?" Okay, I didn't really need to know that.

"Well the geth are scary, especially since they don't know the meaning of mercy or unarmed…" Tali says, a hint of sympathy in her voice. Okay, can we stop this now? It feels so wrong, on so many levels, to be eavesdropping like this.

"Sure, just thought you might want to listen to conversations about you."

"See, this is why I sometimes wish Kelly was onboard: You have the meanest and most disturbing habits."

"Oh yeah, name one."

"Well, you seem to wait until I'm kissing Ash to make some really random comment, and you want to reveal yourself to every single person even remotely related or connected to me. You enjoy scarring people, and preferably in a horrifying way and last, you-"

"Okay, okay I get it. You don't appreciate my sense of humor."

"That's humor? Then I would prefer to never see what you do when pissed off." Sometimes… this 'guy' is just too much. Looking back at my spot, I notice Scorch is standing next to Liara, apparently trying to make conversation. Neither of them are wearing helmets, and from the looks of it, the conversation isn't going too well;

"-Anything by it…" I pick up the last words in Scorch's sentence.

"Oh… I see." Liara responds, looking at her feet. I damn well better not be interrupting something.

"Listen I… what was said in the mess hall that day… I… crap, I don't usually clam up like this, I'm… what I'm trying to say… I don't know what I'm trying to say. I guess I… just wanted to say sorry, if you have been thinking of me like what Sev said back then, what he referred to…I mean, I don't consider you to be ugly or anything, I just…Force! Why is this so hard?" Scorch ends up almost shouting, drawing a few gazes, as well as seemingly startling Liara. I just keep to the side, within ears-range.

"I'm sorry, if I am making… you uncomfortable Scorch. I didn't mean to-" Liara says, drawing Scorch back to looking at her, throwing out his arms;

"Liara, that's the thing. You can't make me feel uncomfortable. I… when I'm around you, I just feel right, even if Sev is hanging around nearby…" Man, Scorch sounds like he's actually confessing feelings to Liara… and I don't even have the decency to buzz off while he's doing it. I guess my sense of decency left along the line of listening to Tali and John without them knowing it.

"What are you saying? That I make your day better or that it is Sev who makes your day better?" Oh… damn. Poor guy. Liara is so oblivious to his confession that he probably has to spell it to her.

"I… no, it's not like that at all… well, the part with Sev isn't, but the part with you making my day better and… listen, if we come back from Noveria… when we come back from Noveria… would you like to… I don't know… maybe go out and… For Frak's sake, why is this so hard?" He looks really worked up now, face having shifted from a light brown, to a shade of red. Liara suddenly seems to see the light, so to speak, and gains a very embarrassed look upon her face;

"You… you mean that…" She says, probably not yet sure enough on his intentions to ask directly. Scorch looks back at her at the tone of her voice. It looks like something's just turned back on in his eyes;

"I… yeah. Yeah I guess that's what I've been trying to say… that… listen, I know that me and my brothers, that we look alike and were pretty much bred to fight and die, with no personality intended and so on… but, we're different. Boss, he is always the voice of calm, he is clever and smart and never lets someone get killed under his command… if he has a saying in it. Fixer, he is like this geeky guy you would know from college, knows all the tech and skills and ways of hacking into the most complicated systems… and you don't want to fight him in gravy-ball, guy's a fucking monster when he's playing… and Sev… Sev… Sev is a guy you want covering your back, even if you hate each other's guts, he's a soldier to the core, not knowing the meaning of fear, but he's pretty good at teaching others… he also has the social sensitivity of a Rancor, but… yeah." Scorch says, slowly losing the redness from his face, regaining his brown skin-color. Liara looks at him with a small, soft smile;

"And you Scorch? What makes you 'you'?" She asks. Scorch doesn't answer instantly, instead slumping down on a crate, massaging his face with both palms.

"Honestly? I'm not sure. I may have a sense of humor, everyone does… I like blowing things up, but that's just part of my programming, the things we are taught inside the vats. I guess there isn't really a lot that makes me stand apart from the regular clone, except for my training and all…" He says, not daring to look at her while speaking. Damn, did he just shoot himself down? Hell, I think even I did better than that… if only one tiny bit. Still, poor guy. At least Liara seems to have caught on to it by now. I'm torn from my thoughts by a slightly entertained sigh, coming from my right. Turning, I notice Ash is suddenly standing next to me. How did I not notice that?

"Hey Thom… how's he doing so far?" She asks, nodding at Scorch. I shake my head;

"Well… not too good. He seems even more nervous than I was back then, remember?" I say, giving her a slight smile.

"Yeah, I don't know about that. You were more or less a wreck, probably because of the things going on at the time, with your secret being blown and all."

"Hey, no fair. Do you have any idea how much of a headache I get each time Roku uses me as a mike?"

"Luckily no…" She says, leaning back against the wall, her red-tinted armor looking the same as Liara's, with the slight bulge on the chest. Her helmet is still in her hand, the outside looking a bit like that of the actual phase-ll armor, except for the tubes extending from the back of the helmet to her back, merging with her armor. I decide to defy decency again, and attempt to listen in on Scorch and Liara;

"… But I just… I think you are really nice person, and not just one of many. I am not sure just what the 'vat-part' means, but to me, you really seem like a nice person Scorch." Liara says.

"So… do you want to… I don't know… go and have a whatever it is you people drink, after we come back from Noveria?" Scorch asks with a hoarse voice, probably on the verge of fainting.

"Yes, I would like that." Liara says. Looking over at the two of them more closely, I notice how their hands are nearing each other, just at fingertips' range. Damn it looks cliché, and really sweet. Alright, that's one more couple to the list… let's see, who's left? We have Garrus, Sev, Boss and Fixer, Kaidan may have something on for Jane, and Garrus may as well, now that I think about it… so we have an opportunity for… one more couple? Wonder if I should bet with Ash who else gets it together first… think I'm betting on Kaidan to- no wait, Garrus seems much more interested, but… Jane ignored his attempts… Damn this is difficult…

"Say Ash… up for a bet?" I say as casually as I can. She gains a confused look on her face.

"Uhm… sure. What about?"

"Since pretty much every girl but Jane has engaged in some kind of relationship… who do you think will be the next couple?" I could just as well have asked if she wanted to see my turd, because the surprised look on her face I just priceless.

"Uh… I don't know… I guess I'm guessing on her and Garrus. He seems pretty on to her, if you know what I mean…" She says, even making the pervy eyes and all. Oh Gods! She did not just use that meme! Now the only remaining thing would be for Ash to love videogames, and she could be chiseled in marble and portrayed as the perfect woman. Not that she already isn't, but that would bring down the hammer on any doubters.

"Alright people, prepare for docking with TSF Centurion, and try not be enrolled in the Roman army, 'cause you know, they tend to get you killed." Joker's voice sounds over the comm., almost scaring me out of my armor.

"I didn't know we had arrived already… Centurion… that's the turian ship, right?" I ask, looking at the commotion as the rest of the ground teams make their final preparations, putting on helmets, stepping into the exoskeletons or picking up rifles, shotguns and pistols. Despite not having an exoskeleton, Wrex wanted to try out the minigun, and he is already looking at it with the loving care of a proud parent. For some reason, I can't help the feeling that he's going to do something incredibly badass with it. His shotgun is still placed on his back, so he hasn't replaced it, and will probably go back to using it after we're done on Noveria. Along the wall, people are engaged in final touches, a paint-job here and there, testing out the weight and flexibility of the armor, putting on gauntlets and helmets, testing out the sound and radio. When I look at Nic, he and Tequila re both in the finishing touches of assembling their set, both are sporting the miniguns. So far we're four people who have chosen to use them. I guess that could settle it if we were to divide into teams. Though if I have learned one thing from movies such as Aliens, it's never to split up.

"Well, onto business then…" I say, sticking my Raikouin the belt's holster and placing my helmet over my head, followed by Ashley already wearing hers.

…

October 10th

Normandy docking tube

17:11 (Normandy ship time)

The loud hissing from the door causes all of us to stand at ready, guns at our feet, or in the case of those without the miniguns, on their backs. The 'Honor guard' as one could call us, consists of representatives from each grouping. Boss is representing the clones, although we are all dressed pretty much the same by now, all armored up and with weapons at the ready. The biggest difference is that while the Alliance has yet to copy their weapons, they seem to have been able to procure more ammunition for the blasters, meaning they won't have to change to our weapons anytime soon. Representing the Spectres, and not the Turians, is Nihlus, clad in the red-tinted phase-ll armor, with his shotgun on his back, and Avenger rifle at foot. Always the professional I guess. Representing the crew, since we are a bigger group, is Ashley, Garrus and me, all three armored up in blue and red. Tequila refused to use the helmet given to her, probably because it looks so much like the helmet of the 501st, the clones at the lead in operation Knightfall. Somehow it doesn't seem like she trusts the clones one hundred percents yet, but I guess things are better than when she accused them of murder on Feros. Jane and John are standing at the end of the line, backs to the CIC. Jane has sort of become the unofficial second in command on the Normandy, and being reinstated as captain probably did a good deal to improve her mood, seeing as she now commands the rest of us lowly grunts again. Jane is, like the rest of us, sporting the brand new armor. Difference just is, that aside from Fixer, she's the only one wearing a green-tinted armor. I'm guessing there's some meaning behind the colors, but so far I haven't been able to see any purpose aside from color of choice. John, and Tali who's waiting with the rest in the mess hall, being served what some of the crew referred to as 'the last supper' Assholes, have both been equipped with a modified version of the turian armor, seeing as the manufactures, whom Jane revealed to be paid by my sister, of all people, didn't feel like making a quarian version. Damn racists… so, with a bit of tinkering and helped by our requisitions-officer, whose name I, so help me, can't remember, they managed to modify the turian version of the phase-II armor, making it suitable for Quarians. It even comes with an extra protective mask, a plate of plastoid-alloys, complete with gabs in the plate for the wearer to see out of. Both of them have donned them, although I don't know how easy they are to see through. I mean, I can hardly see John's specks of light through the V-shaped gap in the plate. Both of them are also still sporting shotguns, though John seems to have found his knives again, polished and sharpened them all. I'm guessing there are at least ten of them. I just don't hope he plans on retrieving them if he throws them at a xeno. The acid will destroy the knife instantly… I think.

As the airlock opens, John walks up the corridor, Jane in tow;

"Ten hut!" Jane barks, instantly causing all of us to snap to attention, if that's possible with a minigun at your feet. The door slides open, revealing the shapes of three turians, two holding handguns at their hips, and the one in the middle calmly walking through the door, nodding to us, spending a few seconds starring at Garrus, for whatever reason that might be, then turns its attention at the Quarian and Human walking towards it. That's when I see it: The long spikes that should be coming out behind its head like on Garrus and Nihlus… they aren't there. Is this a second race of turians or…

"At ease." The turian says, and the revelation hits me like a hammer to the face. The voice… that turian is a female! I'm actually looking at what fans have been demanding for years: a turian woman! Resuming my posture after having swayed a bit, I continue looking straight through the air, like some odd tin-soldier. Nevertheless, this is how you salute in the grander style. We all then obey her command, seeing as John nods his assessment, and I turn my head to follow the scene, noticing the odd looks the Turian honor guards send our new armor. Yeah, I'm pretty sure this thing is the shit, compared to their armor. Next to me, I can hear Garrus uttering some swearwords, though most of them don't translate, I do pick up Oh crap, it's her! From his words.

"Commander Shepard." She says, extending a three-digit hand towards Jane, then looking a bit confused when the human woman instead gestures towards the Quarian next to her. John is looking a little upset, from what I can tell. Oh great… just great… this is how we should always start a partnership, by messing things up in racist style. Quickly regaining her calm facial expression, the Turian instead extends her hand to John, being met with a, from what I can hear of rubber chaffing against bone, pretty strong grip;

"Decarissa Feltan, captain of the TSF Centurion."

Codex entry - phase-ll hardsuits

Following the sudden jump in armor-tech, supposedly made by Rear Fleet Admiral Anna Vestergaard Cologne Fisher, Aldrin Labs have begun the production of a groundbreaking new type of combat hardsuits, utilizing a mix of different light metals, as well as nano-carbon mono-molecule-reinforced plastoid alloys. The new type of battle-suit, dubbed phase-ll armor by its inventor, is reported to be able to withstand volleys of enemy fire, even after the shields have been shattered by incoming fire.

There are currently DELETED suits in active testing, as well as more than DELETED still in production, with many new modifications expected to be revealed.

Other than the materials in the new suit, it also sports an improved helmet, complete with enhanced breathing equipment, longer-reaching communicators and inbuilt flashlights, making the older rifle-mounted flashlights obsolete. The helmets also connect to the users currently equipped weapon via a VI interface, helping the soldier not only keeping tabs on his shielding, but also on his level of ammo, or in the case of modern weapons, how close the gun is to overheating.

Lastly, the suits sport addable exoskeletons, making the soldier inside capable of hefting a fifty-kilo minigun to the suits interface, turning the already enhanced soldier into a walking machinegun-position. The developers at Aldrin Labs have dubbed this 'The Juggernaut' as the combination of heavy shielding, enhanced armor and the minigun turns the soldier into an almost unstoppable killing machine.

Codex entry - Exoskeleton-mounted minigun.

From the dawn of the nineteen-hundred wars, one of the favored weapons of support and anti-infantry and anti-LV fighting, has been what humans refer to as 'the minigun', more correctly known as the Gatling gun, a weapon invented in the colonial conquering of the African continent, and later used in Japan and in the pre-USA America. Quickly gaining a fierce reputation for its ability to mow down entire walls of enemies, the weapon had its baptism of fire when British and Dutch colonial soldiers used it to massacre the otherwise well organized Zulu armies, and later when it was used in the American civil war to churn up the ranks of north- and south state armies. It was later sold en mass to the Japanese as part of their pro-western program in order to wipe out the resisting clans of Samurai.

Later on, in the twenty-first century, the weapon, now known as the minigun, became standard equipment in most militaries around the world, filling roles from gunner-position in a Humvee, to being mounted on tanks and helicopters. The rate of fire was even fast enough for fighter-jets to use them in dogfights.

The M56A2 Exo-mounted minigun is a 10mm general purpose automatic squad support weapon effective to 1,500 meters. The pulse-action system employs a free floating recoil dampened motorised rotating breech mechanism firing 10 mm x 28 pellets chipped from inserted blocks of tungsten. The guns also incorporate a muzzle booster to ensure the necessary operating forces from the kick-back of the launched projectile. Cyclic rate is around 1200 rpm. The gun is constructed largely from molded carbon-fibre and light alloy stampings, though some interior parts of the mechanism are plastic. The replaceable barrels-system is cooled by an internal heat sink, though a heat sink attachment can be jacketed onto it, maximising the rate and duration of the weapon's firing. The system is mounted on an operator's harness and slaved to an infrared tracking system. The entire gun assembly (including harness and additional heat sinks) masses 47.82kg. The length of the gun itself is 122cm, and the length of the barrels are 54.5cm for each. Ammunition-bloks are stored in a drum mounted on the left side of the gun, and enables it to hold up to five blocks, making the firing of seventeen-hundred rounds a possibility.

Ideas have been proposed to convert the systems of the minigun into using actual ammunition again, seeing as the problem with overheating would then disappear, and since most Omni-tools are capable of turning variable sorts of scrap, stone and junk into Omni-gel, and from there into hardened casings, only the power to launch these projectiles would be needed. So far though, attempts to find a more reliable source than the heatsinks have proven futile.

Alright... so much happened in this chapter, I almost won't bother summing it all up... which is why I'm letting you guys do it for me ;)

I know, lazy fuck and all that, but consider that I just gave you, in three days, more than 20.000 words worth of reading, that's more than thirty pages of writing with a broken thumb, give in to me here ;)

Before you start saying that Hackett doesn't have a family, or we don't know who they are and he can't act like that... well, we saw him so rarely that I consider it up to the individual to decide that. I chose to give him a more human out-look, instead of the grizzled veteran we all know him as... and can you honestly say you can't imagine him as the caring uncle?

Till next time, where we embark on the Frozen Heart... hmm, maybe that could be a title for something?