Hey people, Infini0n Here,

in case you have already read this chapter, note that this an update did not change the actual chapter content. i just corrected a few flaws with the Codex entry that i realized after reading a review from a reader. and corrected abit of content that I just didn't like. hope it flows a bit better now :D.

thank you to Dark Pheonix Jake for pointing that out to me

"Our Legacy"

Part Two: A Traitor In Our Midst.

Chapter 7: "Prep For Drop".

Date: January 31, 2681

Time: 0603 hrs.

Location: USAS SR7-1 Normandy en route to Eden Prime

January 31st, 2681

Okay, this is easily the most uninformed I've ever been on a mission. I've already been on the ship for 5 days and Captain Anderson has yet to give me any details on the mission I'll be undertaking. Am I hunting pirates? Uncovering drug cartels? Writing down my life story so that they can put it into a time capsule so that two million years from now someone will dig it up and know that I liked my lasagna a little on the burnt side because my mom couldn't cook anything more complicated than a PBJ or a bowl of Raman? I really have no clue. Literally, no clue. All the crew and I know is that we are flying to Eden Prime to do… something. And that doesn't even make that much sense. Eden Prime is a colony that is only twenty years old making it a relatively new settled planet that is not quite on the fringes of Alliance space. It is heavily populated with nearly two-hundred million citizens. That is a very high number for such a recent addition due mainly to its utterly perfect atmosphere and its unusually rich and peaceful ecology. But despite the high population crime is nearly nonexistent and no raiders or pirates would try for it due to the small fleet of several dozen destroyer class vessels manned by the Eden Prime military reserve. But that's beside the point

The point is that this is the third most peaceful planet in Alliance space with only nine criminal offences reported in the past year and only two homicides in the past twenty. So what, if I may ask, is a War hero, a Spectre, and a Spartan doing here? I can definitely tell that it is something important, otherwise Nihlus and I would not be involved, but why am I not being informed. All I've done for the past several days is check every individual piece of my gear over a dozen times, recite to myself the past tense of every verb in over a dozen different languages, put in a few hundred rounds into the FATS in the gym, brush up a little on my reading, familiarize myself with the layout of the Normandy, and get stared at funny when a few crew members walked in on me Squatting a ton…

Ok… I'll admit that that must have been a little freaky on their part. And since then I've had more than a few funny looks turned my way as I walk by. They think I don't see their eyes following me down the hall as I walk by. It's getting annoying, I'll admit, but I think I'll let them have their fun. As long as they do their jobs and whatever their thinking doesn't get in the way I really don't care what they think about, anyway.

I won't bother listing any theories about why I'm here, the only thoughts I have about it would be the kind I'd have to shoot you if you read it. It's just so dang vexing when you know absolutely nothing about what you're being sent to do. I just need to keep up the farce and act like it's not disturbing me. They will tell me eventually. Until then, I'll just have to be patient. But like I said, Vexing

In other news, there have been a recent string of very interesting and very… distressing reports of massive fleets moving around on the Far fringes. Everyone is starting to think that the Covenant is prepping up for something huge. And I mean something on the Covenant/Human War scale kind of huge. That would partially explain why that fleet was in Neylon 5… partially. There haven't been this many sightings and events for nearly a hundred years and every person in the alliance is getting a little nervous.

It's starting to look like we may soon have another Incursion on our hands... that's the absolute last thing that we need.

On that happy note, I'll go and get myself some breakfast.

Until next time WYL

With that John finished his entry and closed up his journal placed it into the personal locker next to his bed and locked it up and spun his chair around to stare blankly at the back wall of his room.

Another incursion, so soon.

This was a terrible development. The last Covenant war, what the Alliance has dubbed the term Covenant Incursion IV had ended barely four years ago. And was by record one of the most brutal yet. It may not have cost as many lives as the others, but it's sheer brutality made up for it so much so that many of the greatest Historians and Anthropologists claimed it bordered on the same level as was seen during the Holocaust in the mid twentieth century on earth. But what made it worse was the fact that the Alliance was currently in a state of cold war. With the many disagreements between the Citadel council and the Alliance Board this was, indeed, the absolute last thing that they needed. Right now everyone needs to spend all their resources to find a way to keep a peace. Not spend lives, resources, and money on one war that could potentially start another that would span on to the galactic scale and possibly cause the extinction of over a dozen races. That would be bad.

After sitting there for a few moments John rubbed his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully then cast the dark thoughts from his mind and with two long strides he left the room. It took him a few moments to reach the end of the hall and step into the mess. With a quick look he deduced that it was empty. Just the way that he liked it.

Based on the operational times of the Normandy's crew, he knew it most likely would be, but sometimes when he would get breakfast there was a straggler or two that had yet to get to their assigned positions or those that had yet to hit the sack.

In a few short steps he made his way to the dispenser and selected a paste with the flavor of a buttermilk blueberry waffle. In the next moment a tube was dispensed, he snatched it and in three quick gulps downed its contents.

Delicious.

Usually soldiers never got used to eating paste from a tube as their meals, but after living with it for nearly 19 years John had grown used to it. Actual solid food was a rare and precious occurrence in the life of an alliance soldier.

After that he just sat down for a few minutes at one of the tables and opened the files he had gathered on Eden prime once more. When you were a Spartan, there wasn't a lot to do on a ship apart from read, clean your equipment, and train. Since he had already done all three of those in ample supply over the course of the short six day jaunt from Jump 7 to Eden prime he had run out of things to do to keep himself occupied which he found left him in a slightly sour mood. Normally he didn't have this problem. Usually he would get assigned a mission and all the information he would need to carry it out then whatever time he didn't use in prep he would spend in a Regen-tube recovering from injuries that he had gathered on the previous mission.

That is how he had lived for the past 9 years. His once a year vacations have even ended up turning into assignments more often than not. But that never really bothered him. At least he had something to do instead of just sitting around doing nothing. He was never really any good at just sitting around.

He had even explored the ship and found two M40-FAV's, more commonly known as Wart Hogs, and a Heron dropship sitting in the Hold. He was impressed with the find. Most Alliance ships carried Model 30's because they were well built, easy to manufacture, and they had a really good rep since they were put into operation 40 years ago. The Model 40 has only been around for 6 and though it was definitely superior to the M30's it was also much more expensive. But John couldn't complain. They were top of the line tools, and any top of the line tool was sure to make his job much easier. With the two hogs, the Heron, the armory, and the 12 man marine complement the Normandy had everything a soldier could need for a small ground assault.

The only thing he could really do right now was familiarize himself a little bit more with Eden Prime and it's population so he swiped a coffee from a dispenser on the wall took a seat and got to reading.

The next few hours went by rather slowly for John. He got up a couple of times to refill his coffee and saw a few people come and go as they ate then went to bed or went to their stations, none of them bothered the large Spartan sitting alone at the far table. He was glad they saw reason. He also noticed that Nihlus hadn't been stalking him this morning. Which is a fact that he took to be rather… Curious…

He managed to read his way through most of the material on Eden primes military defenses when his clock showed he had a little over an hour till they dropped.

With that in mind he broke off from his reading, closed his PC then made his way to the Armory. Since it was on the port-side of the Cafeteria he only needed to travel about a dozen paces. Once inside he activated his locker and waited for it to retrieve his gear from the lookup in the ships hold.

It took all of 13 seconds.

As he reached into the locker the speakers clicked and their pilot's voice broke out over the comms. "Normandy, this is your pilot speaking, in a few moments we will be making out last check stop. After our final diagnostic we will make the final jump to Eden Prime. Prep for drop…"

Then he felt a slight inertial shift. Ah, the last diagnostic stop. About time they got that out of the way.

As per the operation protocols every alliance ship was required to perform a diagnostic after their first twelve jumps, to ensure proper calibration and construction of the Slip-space engines. Most people would say that it was unnecessary but since the Alliance had put the act into practice 37 years ago, there have been no ships lost due to Slip-Space misplacement so at least no one was complaining about it. It seems that joker thought it would be a good idea to get it done before their mission officially began.

With mechanical movements that were born out of incessant practice and necessity he assembled his armor and checked over his weapons and equipment one last time before magnetically clamping them onto their respective places on his thighs, belt, boots, and back. It took him not a moment over seven minutes to gear up but once he did, he was ready for action. His armory was back where it belonged… on his back.

He smiled lightly at the jest remembering what Kaiden had said when they'd first met and left the room intent on making his way to his room where he planned on getting a little more reading done when he caught sight and sound of Doctor Chakwas and Corporal Jenkins talking while getting something to eat from the dispensers.

"I'm telling you doc, there is something the captain isn't telling us about this mission."

Chakwas laughed and shook her head at that, "Ha, you watch too many spy vids, Jenkins."

"How do you explain that a Spectre and a Spartan are involved then? Spectre's aren't even allowed into Alliance space without top level clearance. And Spartan 9001… there is absolutely no way that ONI would pull him away from patrolling the outer fringe without a very good reason. I mean, have you seen that guy. He looks like a modern day God of War. "

Chakwas crossed her arms as she replied, "That's crazy, the captain wouldn't hand pick the crew then not tell us what was going on."

"Wouldn't be his choice doc," then he added suspiciously "ONI's ultimately in charge of anything that runs in intelligence in the Alliance and trust me… they've got their hands in everything…"

"Correction, Jenkins., you watch 'Way' to many spy vids" she replied exasperated.

John smiled under his helmet; he just HAD to get in on this. As he walked up they continued speaking back and forth. They were both turned to the dispensers which Jenkins was currently trying to get a coffee from. Chakwas already had hers and was sipping from the steaming cup contentedly. Since they were faced away from him they didn't notice him even after he stopped right behind them.

"You know, ONI doesn't technically have their hand in everything, they just hear about most of the things going on and can act accordingly. That is what an intelligence agency is supposed to do isn't it?"

The moment he spoke, Jenkins spun around like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Chakwas' turn was a bit more controlled and refined. At least she hid her surprise better, all she did was take in a full body look over. Jenkins' jaw dropped and his eyes went wide when he caught sight of John's massive armored (and armed) form. John couldn't help but smile at the young corporal's response to his appearance, but when he turned his eyes to look at Chakwas' youthful face his smile slightly soured. He knew her from many years ago after his mother, sister and he had survived the liberation of Shanxi. She had been the young doctor who had treated them after they had been rescued from the Turians that had assaulted his dad's ship. It's not that he didn't like Chakwas, she was a wonderful person with a quick laugh and an even quicker smile. But seeing her did bring up some bad memories. Thankfully his helmet was sealed so they didn't see his laps of facial control.

Jenkins quickly righted himself and snapped a crisp salute, which John returned he also turned a nod to the doctor in greeting and unsealed and retracted his faceplate to allow them visibility of his face.

"uh, yes sir, I just meant that technically, since ONI is responsible for SR vessels they are also in charge of this operation and that they had probably ordered the captain to secrecy regarding the mission we're on. He's hiding the real mission details from us." Once the words left his mouth he seemed horrified that he had said them, "I don't mean that he was intentionally hiding information from us, I meant that ONI had ordered him to secrecy." At this he just got more flustered.

Before he could frustrate himself any more John interrupted, "Hold up, Corporal. It's alright, I was just prodding."

When his tense composure visibly deflated john chuckled and shook his head.

"What are you two discussing so heatedly this morning?" it was only just after 9 "Problems? Concerns?"

Chakwas smiled lightly, "no problems here Spartan." She declared then sipped her coffee with both hands then with a conspiratorial raised brow directed at Jenkins continued, "Except some interesting conspiracy theories from our corporal here."

He smirked, "Really?" he turned toward the younger man, "let's hear them."

Jenkins visibly flinched and grimaced at the doctors cut down version of their discussion. "I wasn't talking about conspiracy. I was simply saying that there is nothing of import going on Eden Prime. You forget that I grew up there Doc, it's a peaceful world with the third lowest crime rate in Alliance space and relatively little to say for itself besides it's tourist attraction for the Council races, and that's mainly due to it's relative nearness to the Charon system Mass Relay. It's only a half parsec to the relay system from Eden Prime. Not even a full ten minute jump for the average Alliance transport ship. No offense, sir, but it's not the kind of place a Spectre, or a Spartan for that matter, would visit. There's just nothing there." He looked up at the Spartan for a moment with bright eyes, "what do you think, sir? We won't be on Eden prime long will we?

"Why do you ask?"

"It's just that I want to get to the real action. I'm here with a decorated War Hero, a Council Spectre, and an Alliance Spartan. I finally have an opportunity to show what I can do to people that can really make a difference in my career and, of all places, they have us going to Eden Prime."

Doctor Chakwas who had leaned against the wall sipping her coffee narrowed her eyes as only a military physician can. "I sincerely hope you're kidding, Corporal. Your 'real action' normally ends with me bottling up remains or patching up crew members in the infirmary."

"The Doc's right Jenkins. Don't rush into trouble just to prove how well you can get yourself killed."

"I'm sorry, sir. It's just that this waiting is killing me. I've never been on a mission like this before. Not one with a Spartan, War hero, and a Spectre on board." He didn't look very sorry.

John frowned inside, this is how they are before they get themselves killed, I just hope he can live long enough to grow out of it. "Just stay calm, keep your head down, and your nerves under control. Do that and treat this like every other mission you've been on and you should be fine."

"Easy for you to say, Sir. You're a Spartan, you're a living Legend of an entire race of hero's. But this… This is my chance to show the brass what I can do." Jenkins, replied, almost… passionate.

John narrowed his eyes, "Your young, Corporal, and you have a long career ahead of you. Don't do something stupid to mess it up." He was sure to put the secret meaning behind his words. He didn't want this kid to get himself killed because of his reckless desire to show off his skill. The 'pride cometh before the fall' and all the other quotes like it are as true a statements as they come. Chakwas appeared to visibly brighten after the statement, almost as if a load had been taken off her shoulders. Seems like she was more worried about Jenkins' excitement then she let on.

Seemingly Chastened, the corporal broke eye contact. "Yes, sir…"

Their discussion was a good bit milder after that and John took advantage of Jenkins younger life on Eden prime to learn a little more about the proposed 'Humanities Paradise'. He even learned a few new things. Thanks to it's strategic spatial position, it's high human occupation, and ridiculously harmless ecosystem the planet was a major tourist attraction for Citadel Species citizens who wanted to learn about the new Systems Alliance and they're species. It was a rather instructive and enjoyable conversation. But after a few minutes Jenkins took his leave saying that he had a prior engagement with a few of the other marines in the lounge of the crew quarters down the hall.

Both the doctor and Spartan watched the young marine walk away, tossing his empty cup into a recycle bin as he left.

As John turned to make his way up the steps Chakwas spoke.

"Thank you for talking to him. I've been trying to talk him down for days. I was getting worried that he would do something stupid, looks like your little 'warning' may have done the trick."

He turned back to look at the doctor then looked back in Jenkins direction, "he's a good kid, Doc. If what little I said will help him live longer than it was worth it. I think I may need to keep an eye on him though, if we get sent out together. Hopefully with some help, he'll live long enough to outgrow his fantasies." He paused as old memories, fond and bitter, came up to the surface of his mind. Each of them had a name and a serial number. With a mental shove he forced them back into the recesses of his mind. "Not all of us are that lucky."

She smiled lightly as she followed his gaze, "but it's good to know that people like you have his back."

John smirked and laughed quietly for a moment before replying, "More like every Alliance Marine. We watch out for our own, Doc. For a lot of us, it's the only family we have."

She smiled brightly, "I know, that's part of the reason I chose to work on warships"

"I figured as much."

After a few moments of companionable silence Chakwas spoke up, "I'd better get back to the med bay and be sure that all of the suits are filled and ready to go. You never know when you're going to need an extra Medi-gel, Medi-foam, or some Nanites."

John just stood there and looked back to where Jenkins had walked off to then shook his head and made his way to the starboard stairwell. The talk with Jenkins had him wanting to see 'Humanities Paradise' in person. And the place that he could get the best look would be the cockpit upon arrival. He hadn't ever been to the planet before and if it was anything like the stories he'd heard it might be something worth seeing. And it would give him a reason to familiarize himself a little more with their primary pilot, a very interesting young ace by the name of Jeffery Moreau.

Their first meeting from when he had explored the ship the first time had been… interesting. He figured that now was as good a time as any to ensure that his relation with the young pilot was off to a good start.

In a few long strides he cleared the distance to the stairwell at the rear of the mess hall and stepped through the automated doors and made his way up the steps to the top level of the vessel. Because the steps were sized so an Unggoy could comfortably take them one at a time he could take them at about three a stride. In a little over a dozen strides he made it to the top floor passing a young Unggoy male making his way to the mess. He stopped dead in his tracks wide eyed as the Spartan passed by.

John rolled his eyes as he passed. They'll get used to seeing me in my armor eventually. He knew that his visage was intimidating without the armor, but he had once been told that when he had it on he could be compared with the image of an ancient god of war. In his experience, there was only one God, and he was pretty sure that he never dressed like that. But despite this, he had seen things that were many times more intimidating that he himself was claimed to be and he had barely even flinched.

Maybe that has something to do with my military career. He mused as he came out behind the CIC. The moment the door opened and he stepped out the stairwell he was met with the sight of a dozen men and women from a half dozen races that were hard at work setting up the Normandy's next Slip-Space jump, the fastest form of FTL in the known galaxy, inputting data into the dozens of terminals and computer systems that flooded the Command and Control level of the vessel.

Because it's simplicity bordered on the ridiculous The Alliance had experimented with the use of Eezo jumping when they discovered that it could be used for such about eighty years ago. But after trying to make it faster for over a decade and not reaching satisfactory results, they gave up. Though element zero made jumping simpler, it also made it dreadfully slow. A jump from one system to another nearby with Eezo doesn't take minutes or hours like it does for Slip-Space, it takes days or weeks! No wonder the Citadel races have only explored less than one percent of their chunk of the galaxy, it takes forever and then some to get there!

Tech talks, and in the words of the great Sir Isaac Newton IV, "in this particular gamut, the citadel has been weighed and found desperately wanting.".

John chuckled when he imagined the phrase being spoken in the deep British accent of the Human master physicist. The man was a high soprano, and proud of the fact. But it did make it rather laughable to listen to him on occasion.

At the sound of his chuckle, a human working at the station nearest to John turned to see what was so funny. He didn't manage to utter a single word as his jaw dropped when he caught sight of John in his full Spartan garb. John decided to keep walking.

He saw Pressley in a heated discussion with a brown feathered Kig-Yar and nodded a greeting to the man as he passed which he returned without slowing his discussion. He already knew what they were talking about, from the bits and pieces that he picked up as he passed; it was about their honored guest, Nihlus, the Turian Spectre. Over their last talk Pressly had made it known to him that he had a very large prejudice against any Council race because of his service in the Relay 314 Incident, known to the Alliance as the occupation of Shanxi. It had been hard on the man, and he had harbored an very deep mistrust of Turians and every other new species since. John had commented at the time that this was a dangerous view for an officer to have. It tended to give an individual a 'shoot first and ask questions never' outlook. The navigation officer took the correction lightly enough, ensuring the Spartan that he would do his job, in spite of Bias. But John couldn't help but be glad that Pressly was just a navigations officer. It could have caused problems otherwise.

John heard the speakers come to life as Moreau's voice echoed throughout the ship. "Alright people, All systems are go and we're on our last approach vector… prep yourselves, we are heading into our final jump. Next stop, Eden Prime." His forward motion did not falter when he felt the sensation of falling as the ship leapt into Slip-Space for the final jump. His voice broke out over the ship again, "Arrival, T-minus 24 minutes and counting". When next they 'drop' they will be arriving in system of Eden Prime.

John made his way down a hall lined on both sides by people operating computer consoles responsible for sensors, communications, defense, and weapons systems, among dozens of other varying operations important for the ships continued operation. At the end of wall the door to the cockpit was sealed. As he neared it, it opened to reveal a red skinned Turian with white clan tattoos and heavy black and red body armor walking out. as they passed they traded nods of greeting and passed. John stopped in the center of the small room and looked around. He hadn't been in the Normandy's cockpit till now and decided that he may as well add it to his mental map of the vessel. It was rather Spartan in design, really. It had four chairs, two facing forward, one belonging to the pilot and the other belonging to the copilot that shared the responsibility of flying the vessel in straight nine hour shifts. The other two chairs, one facing starboard the other port, belonged to the Chief Navigation Officer and Chief Communications Officer. Two of the four chairs were full. Jeffery, the primary pilot, sat in his throne, the left pilot's chair, sitting back letting the computer do it's work and fly the ship, every few moments he would lean forward and check a reading on one of the many holographic consoles and displays that flooded the room and all it's walls, but that was the majority of his work at the moment. The only other occupant was sitting in the seat to Jeff's right. Kaiden Alenko had apparently assisted Jeff in the final jump. Most likely not necessary, but an appreciative gesture none the less. Sitting against the wall to Jeff's left sat a holographic display on which normally, Donna, the vessels AI would be standing. Right now it was dark. She must be doing some maintenance or something of the like, most likely diagnostics.

The most eye catching part of the small room was the window that spread across the entire front and both side walls of the room that viewed directly into open space which was currently flooded with the plethoric view of the indescribable beauty of slip-space. It was theorized by scientist long ago that if a man were able to move faster than light he would see nothing but blackness. But in slip-space, where physics were very different from normal-space a man could see the things that flooded the void as they traveled at FTL speeds. And the only word in John's mental dictionary that he could use to describe the vista before him, was 'Wow'.

The moment the door sealed Jeff Sighed.

"I hate that guy."

John raised an eyebrow in the brief pause that followed.

"Nihlus gave you a complement… Soooo you hate him?" john could tell from the tone that was sarcasm for 'yah, right, that makes perfect sense.'

"You remember to zip up your jumpsuit on your way out of the bathroom? That's good. I just cut a microscopic hole in the space-time continuum and threw us into a dimension of space that, according to a large number of leading scientists, is not even supposed to exist and, to top it all off, hit a target in this non-existent dimension of space that is smaller than the size of a pinhead. So that's increasable!"

Before either of the two could say anything in reply John spoke up, "I'll second that!"

John had to stop himself from laughing as both men spun around to stare at him.

The pilot looked mortified, Kaiden was surprised. "Where'd you come from?"

John raised a brow questioningly while looking Jeff in the eye.

"Right…" he visibly cringed "stupid question. How long have you been there?"

John shrugged, "since Nihlus left."

The pilots face visibly paled. "You heard all that?"

"Nope, I didn't hear a thing…" He even said it with a straight face. Then he smirked at him and winked conspiratorially.

It took a few long moments, but slowly, Jeff's petrified face visibly brightened then it slowly turned into a smile. Then he turned back around to check a reading that had beeped.

When he turned around Kaiden prodded him in the side. "I told you he was cool."

Moreau squinted at him, "yah, maybe. We'll see. No offense Spartan."

"None taken."

Jeff looked over his shoulder at him for a few more short moments than turned back to his consoles. "I don't like having the Spectre on board, every time I see him I get this chilling feeling in my gut. Call me paranoid."

Kaiden replied swiftly. "You're paranoid. This mission has come straight from the top. ONI has a right to send whoever they want to keep an eye on their investment."

"Yeah, that is the official story. But only an idiot believes the official story"

John got to reply first this time. "I've got to agree with you on that."

Jeff seemed to take an interest in that "Really? Why's that?"

John raised an eyebrow then stated plainly, "why else would I be here?"

"Oh, yeah. Point taken."

"Besides. I can't really fault you for having a gut feeling. That just so happens to be my motto, 'expect the worst… that way you're never surprised'."

"That's what I've been saying… there's more going on here than the captain's letting on."

Before anyone could reply, a beep came in over the comm.

The captain's voice blared out. "Joker! Status report."

Joker sighed and shook his head in defeat. Based on his reaction, Shepard figured that this was a more than normal occurrence. He hit the comm. control and replied, "Just started our Final approach. As you ordered, stealth systems are still operating at peak capacity. Everything looks solid."

The reply was immediate, even if it sounded a bit irritated. "Good. Find a comm. Buoy and link us up. I want mission reports relayed back to Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime."

"aye, aye, Captain." Looks like he was about to terminate connection but thought better of it at the last moment and keyed the control again. "Better brace yourself, sir. I think Nihlus is headed your way."

"He's already here, Lieutenant." If the pilot's response did anything, it just got him even more upset. Jeff shook his head as if to say, 'why do I bother?'

The comm. Blared to life again. "Tell Spartan-9001 to meet me in the Briefing room for briefing."

"You get that, Spartan?"

Now it was John's turn to shake his head in annoyance. "Great, by the sound of his voice something either went terribly wrong, or… you went and pissed him off, and just when I thought we were getting to be friends. Thanks a lot."

Jeff sounded less than worried. "Pff. Captain always sounds like that when he's talking to me."

"I can't possibly imagine why." Kaiden replied, as John assumed, sarcastically. But he didn't see because he had already left the room and was heading down the hall to the rear hall behind the CIC. He nodded once again to Pressly as he passed him. Behind the galaxy map the CIC continued for another few meters and was covered in even more consoles and displays. In the center of the rear wall however was another door that once he stepped through it, led to a hall that stretched toward the rear of the vessel. At the end of the hall was the ships elevator that traveled all four decks. On the port side of the hall had a door that lead to the Communications Room and directly opposite to it on the starboard side was the door to the Briefing Room.

In a few moments he walked through it as it opened and he stepped inside.

The Briefing room a rather large room. Maybe a little too large for its intended purpose sizing in at nearly ten meters square. With about a dozen chairs circling an oval shaped center table that he knew was equipped with built in holographic projectors that could be controlled by console, hand, or voice command. On the wall furthest from the door rested a display screen that showed whatever was being displayed on the hologram on the table. Currently it showed a picture of Eden Prime. In the room stood two people watching the screen; Captain Anderson and the Spectre, Nihlus. John figured the Spectre would also be in attendance at the meeting, for one, because he was also an individual that didn't exactly belong with the rest of the crew' and two because he basically had the same right to be on this ship right now as john himself did, which was to say, practically none at all. There were several; other reasons, but those were just theory at the moment. So to say that he hadn't been surprised to find Nihlus in the Briefing room waiting for him to show up was really a vast understatement.

As John neared the duo, he heard them speaking.

"Are you certain that he is the right one for the job. If he is not…" he let the thought rest.

After a few moment of thought the Captain replied, "We both know what the alternative is, and that is simply not an option."

"True," Nihlus conceded, nodding to Anderson's point. "It is a necessary action. But is it one our civilizations are ready for? Is it a step we are ready to take? I fear the consequences, should we fail, will be most… dire.

Anderson barked out a laugh, "you and me both, Spectre. You and me both."

He was almost right on top of them before they noticed Shepard walking toward them. Once they noticed him both men turned to regard the massive Spartan standing before them. Once John was several feet from them he stopped in a neat at-ease position and waited for them to begin. The silence stretched long until at last, Anderson spoke.

"Spartan," he began. "I suppose it's time to tell you what you're part in this mission really is."

John didn't move except to speak. "I would appreciate that, sir. Up to this moment I've been flying around in the dark."

"Then you can now consider yourself illuminated." Anderson supplied as he hit a control on the table. A hologram of a strange device appeared above the table. It wasn't like anything that john had seen before, but he couldn't help but think that it looked familiar. If the measurements surrounding the holo were accurate the thing was about two and a half meters high, a few inches wide, and about a foot thick. About a foot from the bottom of the device was a pedestal that was shaped like a right triangle which it sat on. All over the device little blue and white lights flowed over it's surface like a river, constantly shifting and moving across the surface of the strange metallic alloy that was it's skin that glowed with a soft greenish aura. It was rather beautiful, really.

He stared at it a moment longer taking in the delicate shape of it's slender design then it hit him. He had seen objects like this before. Just never a whole one. He had seen pictures and models, and pieces of it in museums of ancient civilizations. It was a Beacon, a device used to transmit information directly from mind to mind, originally developed by the Protheans over fifty-millennia prior. It was a remnant of a long dead civilization that had gone extinct over fifty-thousand years ago but everything from that time was practically useless now except for the exceptionally rare find. Well, he thought, isn't that interesting?

"This is what it's all about?" John inquired when he looked at Anderson and Nihlus who had been waiting patiently for John to finish his analysis of the item. They both looked slightly taken aback. "Don't get me wrong," The Spartan said placating. "A working Prothean Beacon is indeed an incredible find, but that still doesn't explain why you need me."

Nihlus seemed to be pleased with his deduction, but Anderson was the one to reply.

"You are absolutely right, Spartan, a Prothean Beacon on Eden Prime is a high priority target, but not quite at your level." The Human and Turian shared a knowing look. "You are here for a much more… important assignment."

"It is not common knowledge among the Citadel or the Alliance," Nihlus began, "but our two civilizations are barely one accident away from a galactic war." He turned to the massive display on the rear wall that still projected Eden Prime.

Anderson continued his point. "Ever since the relay 314 incident twenty-four years ago, tensions have been high. And in spite of our best efforts to broker a peace, everything we do seems to have the opposite of its intended effect."

"When you people showed mine your AI's, intending to share some of you extensive knowledge on them. We practically screamed for a war to rid the galaxy of the threat that we believe AI's pose."

"And when the Council showed the Alliance what technological feats they were capable of, we laughed. Some of us more than others…"

"When we shared our histories the Alliance had second thoughts of having relations with a civilization that fears drastic expansion. And my people fear yours who peruse knowledge and power with a ruthless that we have never seen in all of the two thousand years since the Council's founding."

John found himself frowning when they stopped, "Is this supposed to mean that there is no possibility of a peace?"

"No," Anderson answered. "it just means that, currently, the Citadel council and the Alliance have no available routes to accomplish their, as of yet, only mutual goal."

Nihlus raised a clawed hand and pointed to the hologram they stood around. "So you're Alliance Board and the Citadel council have found a solution." At his motion the holo changed to show a large room where men and women of two races in lab uniforms were working together on something that was not visible to the viewer. They were Turians and Humans. The Veiw screen showed the same scene. This dumbfounded the Spartan who knew, from personal experience, that these two races had a hated for each other nearly as deep as that the Krogan have for the Salarians. To see them working together, in a lab no less, was nearly unbelievable. But something that was even more interesting than the workers was what they were working on, for when one of the scientist moved away from the consoles they were teaming around, John could plainly see what was on the screens. It was the Normandy's design. When he saw it, all the random pieces of information that had been floating around in his head and clogging up his thoughts that he had gathered over the course of the last two weeks snapped together and gave him the clear picture.

With more than a little awe in his voice he spoke. "The Normandy was jointly built by the Turian Hierarchy and the United Systems Alliance. You combining the best our races have to offer and doing the impossible."

He raised an eye and looked at Anderson, "I assume that I am another phase of this?"

Anderson nodded, "you are correct."

Nihlus spoke up again, "Our leaders have decided that in order to further this mission of integration, we need to integrate our elite operations; The Spartans and the Spectres. We are taking the best of the best from each group and putting them together to learn from one another then they will integrate."

John knew he had discovered what his part in this was so he said it. "So my name was put forward as the first Alliance Spectre…"

Nihlus' mandibles moved into what John understood to be a Turian smile. "And mine was put forward as the First Council Spartan. Together, we will gather the Beacon and return it to the Citadel where our scientists will begin examining the object at once. Then we leave on our next assignment, of which, there are bound to be many. And we will keep working together until we have satisfied our requirements to join each other's organizations." As the room fell silent John leaned against the rail circling the tables center. Eyes looking off into oblivion, deep in thought.

This could work. He thought, elated that he would be able to assist in the prevention of a galactic war. His mind was reeling at the admission. But he hesitated to add anything else because, this move, from Spartan to Spectre, would undo what he wanted to do when he joined the Spartans. He joined the Spartans, not because he wanted to have the full functionality of his body back, he didn't do it because he wanted to fight or to honor anyone's memory. He joined the Spartans because they were always busy. And being busy was the easiest way to escape his own mind. a lot of his memories were not pretty. Horrific would be a good word to describe them. And the constant orders from ONI is what had enabled him to continue onward. If he gave that up…

If I give this up… it would put me right back where I was nine years ago, awash in a sea of memories that I don't want. Can I go through that again? John shook his head when he thought it. Of course you can, Grow up John. this is the opportunity of a lifetime. An opportunity to face all your fears and worries and pummel them into the dust. And you don't even have to work that hard at it. Just do what you've been doing and start the next chapter of your life. Mom and dad raised you better than this.

He looked Nihlus in the eye and nodded.

"Okay, let's do this."

Both men looked relieved when he coalesced.

"Good." Anderson replied, "We should be getting close to Eden-"

He was interrupted by the Comm. As he clicked to life. Then Moreau spoke to the ship. "Brace yourselves people, we drop now." Then came the shift as the Normandy once again 'fell' into real-space.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Eden Pri-" There was a beep as the Comm. Changed channels, then Jeff's voice broke out earnestly in the briefing room. "-Captain, we've got a problem."

That can't be good.

All three of the men in the room looked to the ceiling as Anderson replied. "What's wrong Joker?"

Really?... Joker? John would have laughed, or at least chuckled if he believed that it would have been invent mildly appropriate. But it wasn't right now, so he sealed his lips.

"Eden Prime's getting blown to shit by…. well I don't know who it is, but their ships don't look like anything I've ever seen, I'm trying to call but nothing is getting through, they must have a net over the settlements." There was a pause, but before Anderson could give an order 'Joker' spoke again, sounding even more serious than before. "A transmission came through. Donna-"

"I got it Joker." The Ai interrupted as her form solidified over the table in place of the recording that had been there moments before, her orange form pulsed lightly.

"This is not good Captain." she said as a recording started playing on the rear wall.

The recording burst to life on the screen with a lot of shooting, explosions, and shouting.

"Call in an Evac NOW, Radik!" a strong female voice shouted over the din.

"On it, Sergeant," there was a quake of movement as the marine holding the camera moved so he could see it. he was a Caucasian male maybe twenty-five years old wearing dark green combat armor. When the recorder faced him he shouted, "This is Private Erin Radik of Platoon 212! We are under attack and are being overrun by an unknown hostile force! Taking heavy casualties! I repeat: Heavy casualties! We can't—", the image was interrupted by a massive explosion behind the marine and the screen went white for a moment, everyone watching the screen had to turn their heads to not get blinded by the flash. When the screen cleared the camera was laying on the ground upside-down facing several marines firing toward whatever was attacking them, blue bolts of what John recognized as plasma were flying everywhere.

Not good. John thought. the Covenant is attacking.

After a few long moments of loud shouting and more weapon discharges the Sergeant's voice shouted again, "Radik?!.. Radik! Shit." There was shaking again as the camera moved to face a new soldier this one a Caucasian female with chocolate brown eyes in her early twenties wearing the same armor as Radik. Her face was set into a near snarl that cast a dangerous look over her fine features.

"This is Gunnery Sergeant Williams With the 212! We need immediate Evac." With that she dropped the camera and started barking orders. "Fall back! Fall back!" the shooting continued till it was a dull thudding in the background but the blue bolts only got closer as they persued their prey. Finally the enemy came into view of the cam. They weren't like anything John had ever seen before. They looked like Alliance assault Mech's but they had only three digits on each hand and they had heads that ended with flashlights.

It was a flawed military design that made John doubt his earlier assessment of this being a covenant assault. Surely the covenant weren't stupid enough to build their assault mechs with a target for a head? John had fought the Covenant before and he knew from firsthand experience that they could be stupid but surely they weren't that stupid.

But it was a question that would have to wait to be answered, for as several dozen of the mechs walked by one of them caught sight of the active camera and stalked over and stomped on it, very effectively ending the transmission. The screen went dark.

The room was silent for a moment until it was broken by Anderson. "Joker-"

"Already done captain, nearest fleet is on it's way, their seventy-three minutes out."

"Then we still have to get in there and secure the Beacon." He narrowed his eyes. "Take us in joker, fast and quite."

"Aye, Captain."

John turned to Nihlus who had gone quite. When he saw him he looked blank, it's hard to read a Turian's face. Then he said something in barely a whisper. "what are the Geth doing out here?"

This perked John's interest. "Is that what those things were?" John asked him, "The Geth?"

The Spectre looke up at him, surprised that he had been able to hear him, but nodded. "Yes, they are synthetic workers built by the Quarians almost six hundred years ago after they annexed them from their home systems behind the Perseus Veil. They're the reason for our laws against AI's. but no one has seen them since the Quarians left the Veil."

John looked at the ceiling to a moment then thought tiredly. It just had to be worse that the Covenant, didn't it?

"I'll be waiting in the Bay." John said as he turned and walked to the door. "This mission just got a lot more complicated…"

Galactic Codex: Ships and vehicles/Military Ship Classifications/Alliance

The Systems Alliance Navy classifies their vessels into any one of 8 classes.

FIGHTERS: A small close assault single man or un-manned fighter craft. No larger than a few meters in length.

CORVETTES: Light small assault craft. Between 20-40 meters long. Primarily used to keep Fighters off larger vessels, to perform guerilla style raids against larger vessels, and for scouting and screening enemy ships. Often equipped with stealth equipment to allow for stealth raids. Normally operated in large wolf-pack flotillas in combination with Fighters or interceptors.

CRUISERS: Heavy Small assault craft. Between 80-180 meters long. Anti-ship/Anti-fighter vessels that operate in large wolf-pack Flotillas. The Primary patrol ship of the Alliance.

PROWLERS: Stealth reconnaissance Non-combat vessels. Cruisers built for intelligence gathering and communication.

DESTROYERS: Standard assault craft of the Alliance Navy. ~460 meters long. Heavily armed and armored and carries a small number of Fighters/interceptors. Operated in Wolf-pack flotillas.

HEAVY DESTROYERS: Heavy assault craft of the Alliance Navy. ~900 meters long. Heavily armed and armored. Usually leading Destroyer wolf-packs.

CARRIERS: heavily armored vessels that carry large numbers of fighters and soldiers. ~2 kilometers long.

DREADNOUGHTS: Super-Massive Capitol ships and the most powerful vessels in the Alliance Navy. Stretching over ten kilometers long operating as a Carrier and a Destroyer.

Comments? Concerns? thought's about things you thought were stupid?

leave a review :)

alrighty, i know you guys are just dying to know what took me so long this time, but there really wasn't a whole lot to it. for the most part i was just lazy and I am really, Really sorry for that, but then there was writers block for a few weeks, then there ws the fact that i didn't like the first draft, then the second, then the third... you get the idea. then i came out with this one and i loved it. i hope you do to :D.

I need to get these out faster. maybe some reviews would help me get some muse. but seriously, give me your thoughts about the story. i don't care about how weird the thought may be, just leave it. all i have to base my work off of is my own opinion and what i rad in other people's stories. so give me something.

also... No longer the longest chapter… but is now 8,416 words. Yeah! that was a lot of work. Wonder how many more will be this long?.