Damn, I was afraid I wasn't going to get this one out before Monday, but well, you know me, I don't like to dissapoint.

Also, I have spent some time today, just going over the hundreds of reviews I have gained over time. It really is a pleasure to just read your reactions to my story as it evolved from amateur to what it is now. You might wonder what brought this up? Well, this story just passed follower number 100. I once set this to be the border, the line where I would ask the ultimate a writer can ask his readers... well, maybe not the ultimate thing, but pretty damn close.

Anyone who would be interrested in doing a new front-page for "Careful what you wish for"? The story has progressed to a length that you would know just what to draw if you were interested. Just give me a PM if you happen to be willing to do this. And thank you in advance to whomever might do it :)

Also, a warning... you might, just might, flip your shit at the end of this chapter. That will be all.

And, a good piece of music that came to me lately:

watch?v=9EEtGLLDhNY

Revelations

November 25th

Arcturus station, Arcturus stream

11:20

"Yeah, yeah I'm... fine. Just tired is all." I say as we head down the corridor. At first, Ash doesn't say anything, simply leading us down several corridors. We stop before a set of transparent doors leading to a large area packed with people eating. I guess this is the cafeteria, or maybe a restaurant?

Here, Ash stops me from going in, putting her hand on my chest. I look at her, at first not fully understanding what she wants.

"Thom... how long is it going to be before you tell me about your issues before I spend half an hour prodding? I know you think you are some sort of invincible warrior out there, but you are still human, just like me. And I know that seeing your best friend in a comatose... that isn't something you just shrug off." She says, making by heart beat a little faster.

I... it's not that I don't want to tell her about everything that plagues me, but I just think she has enough trouble as it is. I mean, we are hunting an insane Turian with an army of geth and husks under his command. I don't want to burden her more than I probably already do. And still... I remember how we ended up with our first time, how I opened up to her, like really opened up to her. How we opened up to each other, how all the pain came out, the grief, the doubt. If I can't even make myself trust her with this, what kind of person am I?

"I don't know... I don't know anything these days Ash. I... that we lost another one of our friends, another team-mate... it just... I never tried all this death and chaos before ending up here. I'm just... trying to cope with knowing that I talked to someone only a few hours before he was suddenly dead. It... just seems unreal... and now Nicolai is in a coma... I... seriously don't know what to do if he never wakes up, I... I'm scared Ashley." I say, feeling my throat tighten as I speak. I can't lose someone, not again. I have already lost my parents and everyone I used to know except for the guy currently in a hospital. If I lose him, then I really have lost everything from my old life.

It doesn't even make sense that he can get hurt. A solid wall of steel and muscle, armed with a minigun... how can anything even get close to him? It just doesn't seem real. Ash wraps an arm around my neck, pulling me into a sudden but soft embrace. Her being slightly taller than me, I return the embrace after the dumbfound surprise has worn off.

She still gives off the scent of flowers... Lavender?

I lean my forehead against her neck, trying to get my breathing under control again. She helps a lot, making me know that I have someone to lean on, someone who will be here for me. The feelings welling up in me... they are beyond description. I feel so glad that she is here, here with me, for me. At the same time, I'm pissed that she has to see this side of me. Why... why can't I just be like her? The calm and calculating, yet still violent, compassionate and gorgeous woman in my life. I only saw her break once, after the death of our entire platoon on Eden Prime. Instead of voicing any of these things though, I just hug her tighter, wrapping my arms around her back. I can feel the tears starting to press outwards, but I'm not going to start crying, not like this. My breathing becomes heavier, more strained as the lump in my throat presses upwards. I just know I'll either throw up or cry if I let it get out.

"It's okay... it's okay. I know it hurts, not being able to do anything for those you care for... believe me, I know." She says, stroking the back of my head with a soothing motion, causing me to initially feel the lump ready to blow up, but then slowly dissipate. It's a soft feeling, of her fingers against the back of my head, of hearing her voice in a hushed tone, telling me this will all be alright. Even if that isn't what she said, I still feel like it was. It is just something about the way she speaks, how she touches me... it is almost like there are two sides of her. One that allows her to rip a man's head off with a well-placed bullet, and the other that makes her God's own angel of compassion. I break a small smile, thinking of how I'm probably just painting my own picture of her, but by the Gods, she is something else.

Having forced my breath down to a normal pace, I slowly separate myself from her, really wanting nothing more than to just kiss her, feel her and just be what I can for her. Just feeling her presence is intoxicating, as is her touch. It almost feels like my skin burns when she is around, but in another way altogether than when people are trying to kill me.

"Thanks... for being with me through... this." I say, vaguely gesturing at the direction we came from, thinking of Nicolai currently suffering from injuries somewhat akin to what I had when I first arrived here. I just hope he isn't going to need bionic limbs. Not because it would take time to get used to, but because my bionic arm is the only thing making me anywhere capable of matching him in strength... even if it is cheating. Ash smiles at me, the same warm smile that always sends my knees jerking and my heart pounding. Now though, it's more of the warm, fuzzy feeling that makes me crack a broad smile and feel my blood rush.

"Always will be, just as you have for me Thomas. Now come on, Tequila and Jennifer is waiting in here." At that, I look through the doors, searching the room for the two most peculiar women next after Liara. Peculiar because they are so far from the mindset of most people around here. While Jen is innocent, yet with knowledge of horrible actions, perky and still shy, Tequila is like Liara mixed with either Jane or Ash. Socially she doesn't seem the strongest, but she is one of the most fearless soldiers I've ever seen. That... is probably because fighting armed people is way less scary than fighting xenomorphs.

I can only see one child in there, but it's so far away that I have some difficulty... no, that's her. The ponytail and the uniform can't be missed.

The cafeteria, if it can be called that, is among the biggest I have ever been in. This place, this room alone is bigger than my old high school, which I suppose is fitting, seeing as Arcturus houses... how many people again?

"This station, aside from currently housing the construction of five new dreadnoughts as we speak, as well as what appears to be one Super Dreadnought, it is home to more than forty-five thousand people. It is also the only station in the galaxy with a bigger defensive fleet than the Citadel. Current defensive fleet is eleven Dreadnoughts, more than five hundred heavy cruisers and over seven hundred frigates. It is also the base of carriers 'Spirit of fire' and 'Thunder-storm'.

"Damn... that was all just off the top of your... hat?" I ask as we walk through the room. About a hundred meters ahead, Tequila notices us and pokes Jen on the shoulder. The little girl at first seem annoyed, but follows Tequila's finger to me and Ash are going towards them.

"A little... also this place has a remarkably well-protected mainframe. I haven't been able to hack into any of their non-public sections."

"Wait... you... you hack the places we... you tried... you just tried hacking Arcturus station? Where both my sister and fucking Admiral Hackett are the bosses! ...Are you insane?"

Roku doesn't answer me though, and I am just fine with that. We have reached the table where Tequila and Jenny are seated, the corporal nodding to me with a smile while Jen looks up at me. She then proceeds to stand from her seat and hug me, her relatively small arms only just able to reach around my torso. I'm not getting fat, am I? In front of both girls are bowls of soup and bread, as well as glasses of juice and a beer.

Smells like tomato...the soup that is.

"Hey girl" I chuckle, hugging Jenny back. I smile, happy to see the... events, haven't been too traumatic for her. I know she made it out of the Teltin base somewhat unscathed, but death and chaos should never be part of what a little girl grows up with. Which is also why the diversion I need to ask of Shepard, either of them, is going to rip a small piece of me out.

But for now, I'm not going to think about that. For now I just want to sit down with some friends, eat some food and cherish what I have gotten left. Too much pain in this galaxy for me to try and bear it.

"I was really worried about you, and then everyone got hurt, and I thought you had too. But then Santa told me you killed a dragon, and that you were really... badass, when you did it. Did you kill a dragon? Was it, like really big and breathed fire? Oh, I bet there was a princess you had to save, but Ashley don't, doesn't need saving, because she is even stronger than Santa, and he is really strong, and she can just 'Hi-yah' it and then it's dead. Or, did you have a horse, and then you had this loooooong lance and rode in and speared it like that guy from the book?" Okay... I think I take back the part where I said she hadn't suffered any damage... or maybe six-year olds really are supposed to be like this. The mentioning of Santa brings a crack to my already wide smile. Chuckling, I remember telling Jenny, that if anyone ever said Santa wasn't real, she should tell them he was, and his name was Urdnot Wrex. As long as Wrex himself doesn't find out I labeled him as a big fat, red, bearded guy who delivers presents carried by fabulous reindeers, I'm good. If he does, I'm as good as mutilated. I smile to her as I ruffle her hair, making the girl squeal in laughter, a somehow blessed sound that... I don't know, but it just really opens up something, like when Ash smiles to me.

"No, I wasn't hurt, and yes, I did kill a dragon. It was big and dark and scary, and it breathed fire from two heads. But I killed it with my sword and angel-powers, and I even got a souvenir." I say, remembering the really creepy head and spine Wrex told me to keep. I have it thrown somewhere in the cargo-bay on the ship, not really wanting to drag it around like a belt.

"You did? Can I see it?"

"Later maybe." I say, turning to see Ash joining us with two bowls of soup similar to what Jenny and Tequila are eating, but unlike Jen, we're having beers... I think. The bottles are so weird these days, looking like something you would store drugs in. It's plastic and dull grey metal, containing the golden liquid. Technically, seeing as the Normandy is still in for refueling and some... minor repairs from one of the Harvesters thinking it was smart to try and attack Joker's ship. Just didn't know it was messing with the best pilot to ever sit in a cockpit, as well as a frigate packing the punch of a cruiser. In short, while the hull was scraped, and one of the engines got scrapped, Joker turned the game around, going from simply waiting on us... to fucking hunting Harvesters. Always did say the guy was shot in the head... But seeing as those things happened, we are on unofficial shore leave until the ship is fixed. However long that will take.

"Thanks. You know where the others are?" I ask as Ash sits down across from me. Turning a plastic spoon in her soup, Ash mulls over the question for a few moments.

"Well, I think Kaidan is trying to find a library, odd as it sounds... Chakwas is still on the Normandy, going to and from the station and the ship. I think she's stockpiling while she has the chance. Wrex is... well, Wrex. He's probably either scaring the piss out of someone, or practicing at the shooting range... where he is probably also scaring the piss out of someone. Garrus I think... I think I saw him somewhere near the QEC-section, but that was hours ago. Tali's still cooped up in the clean-room and the commander and Kryik are giving reports to the brass. Don't know if Jane's with them though, with the whole vision-thing she just got yesterday. The rest, joker included, are either still on the Normandy, in the hospital, or getting wasted somewhere at a bar." She says. Imagining Joker drunk... that's pretty scary. Also, would he be able to not break any bones if he fell while drunk?

"This place has a library?" Tequila asks. Funny, never had her pegged for a reader. I always thought her choice literature would be the texts on bullet-cartridges and 'how-to-set-up-a-turret' manuals. Meh, 'suppose that shows what I know about people.

"It's a city-sized station with nearly fifty-thousand people Aquila. Hell, I bet they have a swimming pool and a cinema too... and a golf-course, if you're feeling classy." Ash says, chuckling as she does. I can't help a small smile to crack up again as I glide a hand over my face at the... childishness of the two supposedly far more mature women.

And I still wouldn't trade it for the world.

...

November 25th

15:22

"So, to sum it up. You touched down in three separate teams at nine-hundred eleven on the surface of the planet Valhalla. Your team then proceeded to attempt a securing of the colony but was quickly swarmed by... what did you call them again?" The Alliance Prime minister, Amul Shastri said. He was the civilian leader of the Systems Alliance, a weathered middle-eastern man with thin grey hair wrapped up in a comb-over. Unlike the other members of the residing parliament currently in the room, he was wearing a formal suit-and-tie, complete with a red tie that matched his socks. In that way, he was a bit eccentric.

The Alliance Parliament took up the center of the Arcturus station. It was bigger than any governmental centers on Earth, taking up approximately the same amount of room as the Vatican in Rome. It had to, representing every single human in existence, Alliance or not. Even Cerberus, between the period of being Alliance to it was listed as a terrorist organization, had once held a seat there. A representative from every single country on Earth, as well as from every single colony they had in space. There even was a chairman from Altman Lunar Industries, the corporation running everything from water supply to prostitution on every moon from Luna to Titan in the Sol-system. Recently they had started pouring funds into estranged groups and companies, paying for the heavy-duty mining of moons and non-garden worlds outside Council legalization zones. None really knew or cared why, though they said otherwise when asked.

Politics... hadn't changed much since the day it was created.

"Husks, sir. We call them 'Husks', because they are the empty and controlled shells of human beings. They become the perfect shock-troops for the enemy, no feelings at all." Before the committee, a trio of people stood at attention. One was a Quarian, recently made commander-de-facto of the SSV Normandy. Not something Shastri approved off, but he hadn't had much say in a manner concerning only the military branch of the Alliance. Life could be a bitch at times, but that was how it was.

"I see... yes I remember similar reports from the ground-team from Eden Prime. Were these the same hostiles?"

"They were. The same methods had been used on the colonists from Eden Prime as on the colonists of Valhalla. We are not sure how it was done though, as we found no geth forces on the planet, and people don't tend to just impale themselves out of curiosity. At least I don't think humans do either... it is possible that the husks were upgraded to fulfill that purpose as well, but we are not sure." The second person before the committee was the Turian Spectre Nihlus Kryik. He was paying all due respect to the Alliance leadership, but Shastri had a feeling the Turian was silently thinking how his race should be above Shastri's race. There was a whole generation out there with bad blood for the Turians, and no amount of sweet-talking could fix that. They were called the 314-generation, as they had grown up with the looming and later realized threat of an alien invasion of human soil.

"You mentioned other types of these 'Husks' in your reports. Were they different mutations of humans as well?" The spokesman for the American President, Nolan Dubál asked. He was a young man, with the slick look of an ass-kisser.

Also he was French.

"No, they appeared to be made from Batarians, as well as a few being of Turian origin." Nihlus answered, despite not having been asked. Amul rubbed his forehead with his long- and index finger;

"I thought you said these 'Husks' were made from humans?" The French said. Shastri mentally made a note of having a hit carried out on all French people in the galaxy. They simply couldn't shut up. That would be acceptable if what they said were somewhat intelligent, but Dubál was just plain stupid. Even a five-year old could figure out that the other husks were still husks even if they were made from other races as well. Too bad shooting stupid people had been illegal for more than three-hundred years.

"They are. Husks, as we call them, are the Reaperised remains of what we assume can count for all organic races. Humans simply become mindless killing-machines, cann-" The third person of the trio said. She on the other hand, had drawn quite some attention from the board. Especially because the only people with access to her files were Fleet Admiral Stephen Hackett, Admiral Anna Fisher who was currently on his right side, and Spectre Nihlus Kryik. Therefore she was quite an enigma, but one very... appealing enigma. She had fire-red hair, emerald green eyes and a will-power that could have numbed the Yagh. All he knew about her was that she held the position of captain on the Normandy, but obeyed orders from the Lieutenant-commander John'Shepard. Military ranking had never been high on his to-remember list, but Amul was fairly certain 'Captain' was above LT.

"Yes, we have heard your theories on these Reapers. The Admiral Fisher has also provided us with her account of how she...hem, "won" against a single unknown enemy ship above Valhalla. I doubt we need to trouble the Alliance with fantasies when we have the geth and possibly the Batarians to worry about." God did Amul hate Frenchies. If anything, the representative from the US was the shining star of why the Prime Minister sometimes dreamed of Godzilla rampaging Paris. He was expecting a retort from the already, he knew, silently fuming Admiral. There had been a reason he had placed those two, Anna Fisher and Nolan Dubál so close together. If Fisher wanted to punch the man, she didn't have to cross the room, and Shastri could say he hadn't had the chance to prevent or predict it. Instead, he got one from the enigmatic captain.

"Are you fucking blown? One ship decimated over a hundred Alliance ships, and you call it fantasies? The geth are not the real threat here, and the Batarians are just backwater pirates! And you have the balls to fucking-" She barked, sending a look at the representative that pretty much mean that if those two were left alone, he would die in curious ways. The representative, being either brave or too stupid to recognize the look of death in the woman's face, cut her off with a dismissing wave of his hand;

"The geth are the only ones who could build ships like that, and with the resources it would take, I highly doubt we'll see any more of those ships. Your claims are entirely ungrounded if you think- "

"And I say you are fucking blown in the mind Dubál! I saw what that thing did to my fleet, I saw what my fleet could do against it. No fucking way that was made by the geth. It doesn't even resemble their designs, and don't you dare start with me. I have had enough of your dismissive talk to have you shot. Be very thankful I can't do that. No, we do need to be concerned here, not try and sweep it under the rug so your beloved boss can have a re-election based on those putrid fucking cunts you call the American Senate. This ship was not commanded by anyone, and the things it dropped off were mutated husks of allied species, of humans! Only one single enemy fits the description of what we encountered there, and I swear, if you try dismissing the threat, I'll have you locked up in a Gulag in Siberia." Ah, there was the outburst Shastri had been hoping for. In truth he would have been disappointed if the hot-head admiral had just taken this thing in a stride.

"Oh pray tell Admiral. What enemy are we facing then? Oh, let me guess. We are facing robots of doom who are eternal and godlike and can fly and speak. But surely you do not intend to waste the parliament's time with tales of sentient ships and doomsday." Shastri, despite his dislike for the representative, found himself realizing that there was a point to what he said. Just what was he supposed to believe? That doom was inbound because of one ship and the Council telling their top-admiral that robotic squids would kill them all? Still, more than fifty-thousand people had been killed in that engagement, and if the admiral was to be believed, there had been only one enemy ship above cruiser size.

"The Reapers." Anna Fisher said, resentment in her voice. The representative just smiled smugly at her, seemingly having gotten his way.

"Ah yes, "Reapers". The immortal race of sentient starships, supposedly waiting in dark space. Of course, why didn't I see that right away? Surely, we must halt everything we have and give all our money and recourses to the military just so that our admiralty can fight space-squids."

"Why you fucking little cu-"

"Enough! Ladies and Gentlemen, please try to act civil when in session. We have already gotten too far off track... Commander Shepard, you may proceed with the report" Amul said, feeling the headache spike. After this he would need a shot of bourbon... and a long nap. He had hardly gotten any since he had received the initial reports of the battle above Valhalla.

"Thank you Prime minister." The Quarian said; "We split in three teams, I myself leading the first while my second in command Jane Shepard led the second team to secure the facility for the N8-program. My team ventured into the colony and found the inhabitants had been turned into husks. We engaged the enemy but quickly came in need for backup from fireteam three, led by one of my men currently hospitalized with fractures and broken bones. At first, it seemed the backup had worked, the Normandy's Mako dropped down and started cleaning up the husks in scores. However, a husk made from what we guess was a Harvester, landed and started to hunt the vehicle. The crew of the Mako were forced to abandon us in order to escape the Harvester. Apparently, they were caught up with and the creature shot the Mako to a wreck, killing the driver and maiming a good part of the crew. While my team, yet unaware of this, finished wiping out the huskified hostiles in the colony, the second team inserted into the facility. Jane?" The Quarian said. At the mentioning of the woman's name, Amul perked slightly up again. It would be interesting to hear the enigmatic captain's tale.

"We entered the colony after a close encounter with one of the Harvesters. We managed to take it down before it killed anyone though. We proceeded inside the facility and found pretty much everyone to be dead. We didn't find any of the SpecOps to be alive, but we did come across three survivors. The first two were... weird, to put it bluntly. One was a coward while the other came off as lazy and sarcastic. They identified themselves with the names Danson and Biff, plus some numbers which I would guess were their ID-tags. As one of our men was unable to proceed due to his armor being wrecked, I sent him back with the two soldiers, as well as to escort the wounded Corporal Shepard to our ship. We then continued deeper inside the facility where we came across a Prothean Beacon. Given the fact that it had been held in a secret facility, I'd wager a guess that it was a violation of the Council's law on Prothean tech, and that all must be delivered to the Council or that we allow their scientists to examine it. It gave me a vision, much like the one Commander John'Shepard is carrying around. It told me of the Reapers, of their past with the Protheans, how they had wiped them out. I saw the fusing and mutilation of flesh and tech, how the Protheans became husks themselves. And then it ended, but fortunately without the beacon blowing up like on Eden Prime. We then secured the rest of the facility, encountering only a few more of the huskified Batarians. Commander?" The captain said. Shastri found himself scratching his chin at the explanation so far. From what he heard, and from what he could understand, they had faced a horde of enemies. He had, of course, been granted access to the files containing the helmet-recordings from the mission from all members but the krogan's, seeing as his helmet had been trashed when he was shot at.

When he watched it a few hours later, it was a horror movie like nothing he had seen before. The... creatures he saw, the way their bodies had been twisted and mutilated, how the tech glowed in their bodies. It was nightmarish.

And yet, as he and the collective board of admirals and the Alliance Director watched the different recordings, there was one team's recordings they kept playing over and over and over. It was to really see if their collective eyesight had been fooled by what appeared to be one of the soldiers' experiences as he took down first a Harvester the size of a big tank, and then a hulking creature with the head of a Turian. What both scared and had a few of them smile gleefully at the prospects, was the fact that the soldier did it with his bare hands most of the time. The green fire and flame covering his armor was like nothing they had ever seen before.

...

November 25th

Ismar frontier, Elysta system

Orbit of Hesano, the Ashanti.

17:41

If one tried scanning the Elysta system one morning in November, the human calendar, he or she would usually have found what was usually there. Pretty much nothing at all.

However, if one tried scanning the orbit of Hesano, the gas giant of the system one dark November afternoon, more specifically the twenty-fifth of November, the scanner would treat him to a surprise. No less than forty cruisers and as many frigates were floating in the void around the planet. Each moment, one of them would dip inwards towards the planet, discharge the drive-cores and then dip back out when the ship was ready for a new trip through a relay.

One of the ships that was last to dip back out from the planet was a small freighter of seemingly no importance. It didn't even hold enough space for an army of men, a sufficient amount of heavy mechs or even a tank. Therefore it seemed misplaced in the collection of blue- and white striped ships.

"Come on Sidonis! This has been in the making ever since you placed your ugly face here!" Magnus growled, his face slowly turning red with the straining of muscles. In front of him, a Turian with light purple face-markings on his lower mandibles. He was, like all other Turians built like a steel-clad soldier, his face encased in the bony plates that made the Turian species so unique.

"Think you're so tough huh, human?" The Turian snarled back, his own muscles tensing as well. The strain was noticeable at both of them, drawing a small crowd of onlookers, Tara included.

"Tougher than you bird-face."

"Let's see you be this confident with your arm in a sling." Sidonis growled again, his mandibles going from the chin to widespread. Instead of answering, the former Alliance soldier just put more grit into his arm, pressing against the talons currently trying to force his own hand down on the table. The mess had become sort of where most social activities went down, solution of pre-mission disgruntlements included. The crew on the Ashanti wasn't big, but it was big enough to get the job done. A crew of thirty soldiers also acted as make-shift techs when they weren't keeping their guns ready. Only the pilots were actual pilots in name as well, trained in the Turian Hierarchy for combat drops and the like. They were the ones who would be responsible for the handling of the deployable chain-gun if the men would need support... when they would need support. It was an unspoken truth that this mission could as easily go to hell as it could end up with them all alive.

"Ten credits on the FNG!"

"Me too!"

"I say five on Sidonis!"

"Ten on Sidonis!"

The crew consisted mostly of Turians with about five other humans than him. It wasn't the sort of camaraderie he remembered from his brief time on the Normandy or in the N7-program, but it was still looser than what most Alliance ships would fly with. One of the human Suns was a man named Aresh. He was a biotic, and a rather strong one at that. At least, that was what Magnus had been told. A demonstration would be stupid since warping the hull would kill them all. Also the man was kind of... weird. He had this thing, something he didn't like talking about, yet kept insinuating if someone pissed him off or prodded for answers. Magnus wasn't sure what his past was, but asking around he found he wasn't the only one. Not much was known about Aresh other than he had been a simple thug with biotics until the Suns took him in. That was a few years prior to the coup, and so Aresh was one of the veterans of the group, having been a Sun for more than twenty years. He had this air around him that suggested he would be willing to kill you for blinking when he didn't want you to blink... also he sucked at chess, but that was only something Magnus had found out overhearing a conversation between two Turian members in the cargo-hold.

Despite all this though, Magnus found himself enjoying his stay on the ship. Sure, he had never wanted to be a merc when he served on the SR-1, but after having spent months in a disillusioned state on Illium, he was just happy to have gained some purpose in his life. If that purpose was to kill Vido Santiago and make the Blue Suns good guys, then he supposed he could have used his time in worse places.

Feeling his arm being overcome by his distraction, Magnus quickly put his mind back into the game. Putting everything he had into his right arm, the Icelandic Blue Suns operator smacked Sidonis' hand down on the table, accompanied by several people complaining and just as many celebrating as they collected the bets made.

"Damn... you humans aren't all weaklings it seems." Sidonis said. His first name was Lantar, but on the ship, everyone were mostly last-name basis, meaning only the more intermingled members talked on a first-name basis. It wasn't as much as rule as it was a way the things were. A bit like 'don't piss in public' or things like that. Despite not really liking most of the crew, Magnus found he could somewhat agree with, and to Sidonis. While most Turians preferred solving a problem by shooting or jailing whatever was annoying them, Sidonis struck him more like a man who would prefer to simply stop the bad guys with only what was needed. Which meant, if he didn't have to kill them, he would more often than not simply knock them down with a concussive blast. Unconscious enemies could be left to the judgment of others, and he would have clean hands. Also, he was a mean bastard in hand-to-hand, from what had been told. While he didn't kill his opponents unless it was do-or-die, he could make it very, very painful to be on his bad side.

"Don't feel bad about it Sidonis, you never stood a chance anyway. It must have taken balls to... oh wait, Turians don't have those, do you?" Magnus said, a smirk crossing his face. Combined with the permanent facial scar, it made him look really weird, but most of the people on board had their own scars, physical or otherwise. He just happened to have both, and while he didn't let it bog him down, he would kill even Tara if it would bring Jane back to him.

"Funny, I could ask you the same thing." The Turian growled back, but with what counted for an amused smirk on his face. Before Magnus could answer, the ship tugged as they started entering FTL with the rest of the fleet. They were headed to Zorya, where they would kill Vido Santiago and piss on his corpse.

At least, that was if everything went according to a plan none of them had been told yet.

"So... I guess we're on our way then?" One of the other mercs said, his helmet dangling by his hip. The shining blue lights in it were turned off when it was not on his head, saving energy for use in darker areas. Originally the lights had been added to give the ability to wage war in complete darkness, but the give-away dots in the dark led to the lights being replaced with thermal cameras in the helmets' optics. However, as the hiring of Batarian mercs became the norm, the lights were put back in for psychological effect at the oppressed civilians the Suns were now targeting. Just another reason to take Vido down, and one Magnus could agree to. He had been in enough counter-terrorism scenarios to know just what to do with oppressors. Usually it involved a few bullets in the knee-caps, or just one through the head.

Getting up from his chair, Magnus rolled his shoulders, his right arm sore to the point of pain after the little contest. The armor was not, again, the same quality as the Alliance now packed. The Phase-II as it was called had substantially better stopping-abilities when it came to fire-arms and was lighter than the older hard-suits the Suns used. However, Magnus hoped that if they could dispose of the Suns images as a bunch of terrorists and law-breakers, maybe the Alliance would sell them the armor as some sort of olive branch?

Still, weapons hadn't yet caught up to the evolution of armor, so the old hard-suits could still get the job done. Shields still held merit, no matter how improved armor had become. Armor was conventional, it was physical, and therefore it could not just regenerate like shields could. Strong shields would overcome strong armor any day, in his opinion.

Still, he would have appreciated a Vindicator like the other had been armed with. Again, he supposed that just came with being the new guy. He figured himself lucky, not to have been filed as a free-lancer and just given a sum of money to go get shot. He was a Blue Sun now, and soon that would mean something truly great.

Tara gave the group of soldiers and mercs, friends and colleagues one last look before she headed up to the bridge again, her old cowl replaced by an armored system of plates that slid in-between each other. She had the mobility of her old clothes, but the protection of the rest of the men, plus her cloaking device that was imbedded in the back of her armor. With a flick of her wrist, she could disappear from view, holding the invisibility for up to five hours unless shot at.

At the bridge, a raised room that was cut off from the rest of the ship by a thick metal door and a set of stairs, she stood next to the two pilots and the makeshift navigator, a Turian named Velan Harius. He was, as all Turians were, former military and had been a navigator in the First Contact War, or the 314-incident as the Turians called it. That also meant he was old, probably one of the older Suns after Massani himself.

"What's our status?" Tara asked, slipping back into her role of captain on the ship. Not that there was much to be captain of, to be honest. A cargo-hold with room for five men standing close to each other, a mess with a small cantina that filled the role as both kitchen, laundry, room for five men, eating and social place on the ship, as well as the bridge she was now standing in. Still, it would suffice. She could always scuttle the ship later on if something better presented itself. As long as the pilots could fly it, she could use it.

"We're following the rest of the flotilla ma'am. The Solar Invictus will go first through the relay, then we follow as one of the last ships. All systems are green and engines are good. You did a fine job with this ship ma'am, if I may say so." One of the pilots said, his voice obscured by the helmet.

I had help, Tara thought, but said nothing as she stood at the bridge, hands behind her back as the relay to the Faia system came closer and closer. She could begin to see the silhouettes of cruisers and frigates as they became small dots in front of the gigantic Prothean construct, than they simply shot away, a small tail of lightning following each ship as it was propelled through space.

"Take us in." Harius said, his voice rusty and calm, betraying his old age. Still, his mind was as sharp as ever, making him the ideal navigator when his fitness was starting to fail him in the age of seventy-two human and Quarian years. It was, Tara pondered, a curious thing that despite Rannoch having longer days than Earth, the orbit of the planet was slightly wider than that of the human Homeworld, making the difference in length of the year only a few days. In the standard galactic years, he was one hundred and seven, it being one of the reasons the Quarians had never accepted the Citadel time measurement. Even at the time when they had had place on the Citadel, they had used their own measuring of time, as the humans were doing still. the difference between the established Council time and thousands of years of tradition was simply too great to just 'merge', and so they remained apart.

"Roger that. Approaching Relay One-two-five in twenty... acquiring vector... system is locked, we are inbound in ten. All hands, brace for transit." The pilot in control of the FTL said, causing Tara to grip the pilot's chair, steadying herself as the rim of the windows started glowing blue. She really wished she had remembered to add armored panels to the cockpit, but she had only had so much time.

"Hitting the Relay."

And with that sentence the Relay launched the small vessel into space, starting off what would later be known as a turning point in the history of the Terminus systems.

...

November 25th

Arcturus Station, Arcturus Stream

Office of Admiral Anna Fisher

19:17

Normally, one couldn't call Anna one to break regulations to the point of breaking the actual law. Of course, normal didn't really fit her state of mind after the battle above Valhalla, saving her own brother and the Normandy, then having to sit through first one hearing where the threat of the Reapers pretty much was shot down by bureaucrats and assholes in fine suits, then another closed hearing where the recordings of the mission had been reviewed, and it had turned out that her brother packed a lot more punch than she had been let to believe. Watching the helmet record how he had taken down a gigantic creature with a sword and his own flaming hands... had been something that shook her to the core. Granted, she was close to an orgasm in anticipation of the ways she could harness and study the power he seemed to wield, but the prospect of such powers also opened up a whole lot of questions. She herself had the suspicion that his 'voice' had something to do with it. This 'Roku' was of an enigmatic character, and she felt like she had only scratched the surface of the power he could bestow. If only she could find some way of explaining how her "cousin" had the ability to command fire and take down Harvesters to the rest of the Parliament, she would be good.

"Dammit... it has really come to this, hasn't it?"

And yet, even the recordings had been insufficient in convincing the Alliance Brass that the Reapers were real. They had the attitude that unless it really came knocking on their front doors, the next re-election held more importance than 'magical space-monsters'. Oh she had been so close to throw it all to hell and punch the US representative in the mouth, then slit his throat with a chain of his own teeth. Of course, in the longer run, that would have been counter-productive. The conclusion of it all had been that the Alliance would pour more funding into the creation of the Goliath ships, but they would be finished in the year 2184, too late for it to matter if the Reapers really came before that.

"Seems like it. You ready though? I know I tried something like this once, ended up biting me in the ass."

"He isn't Makarov, Price... just... I don't know what he is anymore, but if the Alliance isn't taking this seriously..."

She hated herself for this. The day Cerberus went off the grid, she had sworn to never again have anything to do with Harper. He had become obsessed with humanity to be in front of everyone else, and while that part was all good with Anna, she could never get behind his methods. She would rather die than condone any of the inhuman experiments Cerberus had carried out in the past. Oleg had told her about Teltin, about what he had found there. It had broken him, shaken him to the very core of his grizzled being.

"Are all cameras turned off? All tracers killed?"

"Of course." Price said, his voice being emitted from the projected sphere of code and data currently making it up for his Avatar.

And yet, despite Anna knowing that Jack Harper was an inhumane son of a bitch, she knew he was the only one who would act on the threat of the Reapers. He had so often said that humanity was in peril, and during the war, she had been enchanted by the way he spoke, the gestures, the action he put behind his words. That had been before Desolas had killed Eva, one of the best friends Anna had ever had. True, Decarissa Feltan was a true friend as well, but keeping contact was difficult when the female Turian was in the 'Blackwatch', and essentially impossible to reach.

Price, her now most trusted assistant, had handled the meeting with the Quarians surprisingly well, but it had been what happened shortly after the meeting that had her scared. Price, the undoubtedly most advanced AI ever built by human or other hands as far as she knew, had in a matter of seconds been reduced to a shell of is former being, forced into his own quantum armor by the entity known only as 'the Cold Code'. She had little doubt that the Cold Code had been none else than the vessel she encountered above Valhalla, the recorded voice being the exact same in both cases. The fact that it had been able to break Price down to his core, was not something she could comprehend. Price could hack anything, anywhere at any time. He only had to be plugged in on the same planet, and he could do his thing. And yet, here was something that had the AI scared. AI's shouldn't be able to feel fear, it wasn't in any way sensible that they could, seeing as one tended to make mistakes when afraid. It was ironic that Anna felt like she was about to do the same thing herself.

"Okay... I'll be court-martialed if this ever gets out..."

"Then what are you afraid off?"

"Right... and you are completely sure that all surveillance equipment, as well as the equipment used for tracing calls are all disconnected?"

"I said 'yes' already. Just get to it or don't, but we are wasting time. I still haven't been able to split since the... event, and I know Cole needs me in the labs." Price said, his faceless sphere not hiding the fact that he was tired.

"Right, right... Jesus, schooled by an AI to contact this time's equivalent of Bin Laden... I must have done something right along the way." She muttered to herself before he started punching in the very same code her old friend had given her before Desolas killed her. It had been intended to be the resident-number for Eva's and Jacks home after the war, but...things got complicated. And yet, she had a feeling that Harper, being who he was, had kept the number as a sort of connection to his lost love, Eva Coré.

...

Meanwhile

Cronos station, location unknown

Cerberus headquarters, TIM's office

"Sir, incoming call. Caller unidentified." the voice of Operative Cross sounded from the intercom. Annoyed, Harper pressed his cigarette against the ashtray, stubbing it repeatedly until only a thin line of smoke remained rising from the ashes.

"Where is it coming from? Any Intel at all?" He asked, pressing his head-piece. There was a short pause before Cross answered.

"Caller is using an old call-sign sir... I... that can't be right..."

"What can't be right Cross?"

"Well... it says 'Action before Words', but... I thought she was dead?" The initial startle quickly retreated for a thin smile that spread on his lips. Truly, he had not expected to ever hear from her again, and he had always thought that the way they had parted ways, then next time he heard her voice would be when she ordered the firing-squad to execute him. The universe sure did hold wonders yet, so why not see what his old friend wanted?

"Put it through to the QEC in my office." He said, then filled his glass with bourbon before turning around in the chair. The large circle on the floor started shining, the entangled quantum-particles activating their universal twins. Before long, the image of a woman in an Alliance uniform was appearing in front of him.

"Anna. Still the picture of beauty I see." He said with his most flattering voice. It was necessary, as he had never met a mix of anger and violence as intense as her. One wrong word and she would find some way to hurt him, even if she couldn't touch or find him. Her face was as set in stone, her red hair tied in a bun behind her head. She had a new scar that wasn't from Shanxi, but then again, he supposed she had been busy too.

"Illusive Man." She replied, arms crossed over her chest in the manner that demanded a bullshit factor of zero. He smiled vaguely, taking a sip from his glass before answering her.

"Please, it's just Jack to you. To what do I owe the pleasure? Also, how did you get this number, it isn't exactly in the phone-books." He said, a warm yet apprehensive smile on his lips.

"Cut the friendly bullshit Harper, I'm not here to talk about old days. You made your choices, I made mine. And as things are now, I stand to be relieved of duty if I'm found talking to you." She said, jabbing an accusing finger at him. Ahh, she had always been like this. A hot-head and prone to violence. But he supposed that had been part of her charm. Thát, and her handling of a rifle during the war.

"Then why are you calling?"

"I know you have spies in our systems. You know why I'm calling." She said, her mouth a thin line of barely controlled rage and anger.

"You are thinking about the abduction of your...hmmm, "nephew" Thomas Fisher, am I right?" He said, making the quotations in the air while skillfully managing not to spill his drink. Judging from how her eyes went wide, he guessed he had hit a sore spot in her life of secrecy.

"What do you mean by that Harper, and I swear to God, don't you play coy with me. Yes, I know Cerberus was behind the abduction of Thomas, but I think Oleg gave you enough of a beating for me not to waste my time with it. Make no mistake though, nothing would please me more right now than to break your spine."

"Ah, but we can't have that, can we? As for your... brother. I have kept an eye on him ever since he escaped Pragia. Don't worry, I will leave him alone. He, just as you did once, has proven that your family is full of surprises. It is amazing what you discover about people if you listen when they think you don't." Harper said, a thin smile creeping across his face once more. He seldom had the drop on Anna, even back then, but he had always been the one to employ subterfuge where Anna would just open the door with the key in the shape of her boot. Eva had always been the more diplomatic one, trying to solve conflicts before they really began. All that was past now though, and he had to deal with the fact that any physical meeting between him and Anna would end badly.

"Be very careful now Jack. I don't give a shit as to how you know that much about Thomas, but you better stay away from him."

"I'll remember that. Now, I suppose you didn't just call to scare me away from your brother?" He said. Anna brought a hand to her chin, scratching her lower lip in the way that had always unnerved him. If Anna couldn't solve a problem with strategy or brute force, and she was by no means stupid, then there was reason to be worried.

"You have spies in my networks, and don't bullshit me, I know you do. You heard of the Intel the Council gave Hackett and Udina a month back?" She said, settling back in her posture with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes... I picked up that the Council was worried about a new threat, but the exact specifications weren't mentioned."

"The Reapers." Anna said. For some reason, Jack felt an ungodly chill run down his spine at the word.

"So... it's true then? I thought my operatives had just been doing drugs... I even sent them to rehabilitation... but, you don't honestly mean to tell me that they were right? Machines of unfathomable power, bent on harvesting all life?" He felt his fingers tremble at the implications if this really was true. It had to be though. Anna might despise his methods, but she would never lie to him about something of this magnitude, and the fact that she risked imprisonment if found out just added to her credibility.

"Yes" He dropped the glass, the crystal shattering as it impacted on the floor. "I engaged them above Valhalla only yesterday... lost more than a hundred ships to two of them. We are studying the remains of the lead-ship as we speak, but... Jack, I will say it as it is. As things are now, humanity, as well as the rest of the galaxy, will be exterminated if the Reapers show up before the next decade. We can't afford to waste resources on fighting each other so... just... cut down on your insane shit, and... understand this, I'll be locked up for the rest of my life if this is made known... but... I am... I am sending you the blue-prints for the Goliath-class Dreadnoughts. Don't make me regret it." And with that she killed the transmission, not even letting him wish her a good day. But alas, such was the way it had to be when two factions dealt cards.

"Sir, incoming data-package. Are you expecting anything?" Cross asked over the comms. Harper, feeling his skin being drenched in cold sweat, looked at the place where Anna had just been. What she had just told him... it couldn't be true, it couldn't. And yet, he knew it was. Anna was never one to lie, he knew that. and it matched the reports he had received of a major naval engagement in Alliance Space just one-and-a-half day earlier. It just was too much to handle, too much to believe.

But he needed to act on it. The Alliance might be the ruling legitimate body of humanity, but if they didn't act, or if they simply weren't enough, and if the Reapers were on the march, The hellhound of Hades would stop them dead in their tracks, than dog them to the edge of space and bite until the void took them. Cerberus would never stand aside and let humanity be attacked. And nor would he.

"Yes, send it through." He said, then waited until the hologram of a dreadnought the likes he had never seen suddenly appeared in front of him, data-streams flowing down beside it. One quick glance was enough to tell him that this thing was not yet completed, and that it would take time to finish an effective amount of them. Time they might not have. Cerberus needed to make their own contingency for if and when the Reapers showed up. After having spent half an hour going over the new ship, the Illusive Man opened up a new file on his personal computer.

Operation Jaeger

Ah... always thought good old Harper was a bit too one-dimensional in the end. A little back-ground story is always good for the persona of someone important to a story. And don't worry, we will get to the next mission soon, but... there awaits one very important mission first, one which will be difficult for Thomas and the crew to leave behind. Luckily, fate has a way of playing boomerang with your life.

Also, I don't think is it necessary to even ask if you can guess what Timmy's Operation Jaeger is... but I do it anyway. Guess away :D

Also, we will see you all... next time, here on the Battlespace.