Chapter 5: Discovery

Two days later...

Location: Exodus Cluster; Shiva-class Cruiser "Diomedes"; en route to Hephaestus System

In relative comfort, Milieu meditated in the observation deck with a clear view to the vastness of space, and the stripes of stars and aura of blue streaking across it beautifully – only obscured by one of the four Vajra-class Destroyers relegated to escort duty, the only one within viewing range while the rest were as far as a hundred thousand kilometers distant.

Aside from the view, a holographic image lay on the side – one of the system they are on the way to, most recently found by the expedition Avaro sent, approved by himself and his two fellow Grand Aspects. It was estimated to be a long-lasting mission, but struck gold on their first try.

With four solid planets and six vast asteroid fields, the newly named Hephaestus System was incredibly rich with resources the enterprising dôji ahead of them are already digging into, establishing mining stations across the outskirts in preparation for forays to come.

Accordingly, Milieu selected the innermost planet – Cabeiri – as site for the experiment he was most excited and looking forward to conduct. Kasic Khalk, the turian he 'recruited' for this currently sitting safely in stasis. Not to be awoken till they arrive on the chosen planet.

For the moment, deep inside he fought to conceal his growing excitement. Wondering with great curiosity what kind of experience awaited him in the much too belatedly discovered ICON mode Vice just happened to stumble upon, and the inevitable intimate bond with the one who would man him.

Despite the theories and dreams dancing inside him like delectable morsels however, he felt thankful when the ship's Captain called him over the intercom, providing distraction; "My Lord, we have received two transmissions addressed to you."

"Communication room?"

"It is ready for you, lord."

"Thank you. I will be right there."

Milieu rose from the chosen couch and left the place to traverse the ship. At first glance it seemed rather rather empty, but only because the ship needed no more than a crew of five. Aside from them, ten more were scattered throughout the ship. Non-essential personnel, mostly bodyguards. To the organic civilizations on the other hand, to walk through it would seem rather lonely a walk.

At least the 'lonely' walk lasted only the short distance between himself and the entrance to the communication room, flanked by a pair of com dôji who looked up to him with a noted nervousness but without a word or other expression aside from a crisp salute. Perhaps among the few who worried for their function in the face of rapidly expansive communicative technologies being produced.

Feeling rather perky, once he was between them he raised his arms and folded them round the minor dôji, and brought them abruptly into a tight hug that utterly surprised them in light of how wide open their eyes became, staring at the chest they were pressed up against with cheeks a profuse red. "Children," Milieu cooed reassuringly as he patted their backs before letting the blushing pair go so he could head inside, "there is no need to fear. Engrave will always have a place."

From what he saw of their changing expressions to that of gladness out of the corner of his eyes, his guess of which topic they maybe considered bringing up proved to be the right one. And as though seeing that as a good moment to proceed, the door closed shut between them.

Like everywhere else, the curved walls within this room were clinically white, contrasted strongly by the pitch black of floor and ceiling – broken only by the circle that dominated the room's middle, into which he walked and stood still and waited with some curious anticipation.

In reaction to his presence, a holographic array opened around him, and with it the room faded away... and was replaced with a dazzlingly cityscape glittering with light he recognized as Yggdrasil. A beautiful place dotted by many construction works still in progress circling around the yet unfinished spire in the middle that towered over him magnificently, which would eventually include boughs that will stretch over the city's skyline, helpful in providing protection the coming war composed of many layers of kinetic shielding – just one of many security measures, including a range of city-scale reactors dotting the rest of Eden Prime that will help trick the alien sensors and direct fire on unpopulated regions.

Milieu did hope that it would not need to be put to the test though.

"What do you think of the progress thus far, Milieu?"

The Grand Aspect looked on over to the image of the gold-maned Sophia who stood in the outskirts of the cityscape with a smile, "It's splendid."

"Large sections of the residential and industrial districts are almost finished, and the people has already established shopping streets. Small at the moment, just like the economy currently is, but those will only grow as we near the deadline."

"Shopping areas. Courtesy of some enterprising individuals?"

"In large part farmers who are selling samples of food and drinks with native ingredients for a great – at the moment – price. It's only par for the course."

"I admit," Milieu thought with a claw to his chin, "I have not divulged much attention to the subject of native foodstuff. How is it?"

"Like you can expect, being produced from natural sources they are in a class of their own. Vegetables have proven quite good, the meat of established cattle is likewise succulent. Most impressive is one of the new drinks, a beverage with an incredible purity of alcohol. Poisonous for organics I guess, but a delight for dôji. Or at least for those sufficiently used to beverages not to drop unconscious at the first sip." Sophia shrugged in amusement, "Would suggest a ban so youngsters and eventually organics won't drink it."

"And how about you?"

Sophia blushed embarrassingly, giving away that he has in fact tried the drink and faltered... possibly even fainted in face of it. He never could hold his liquor. Milieu giggled, and the aspect of Wisdom turned redder as he started fidgeting. "It's... absurdly potent."

"Then, if you don't mind me making this request, I would like you to prepare me a meal for when I return." Milieu half-demanded with an enticed smile, quite interested in trying it all. "Can you do that for me?"

"Um, I can ask Eater if he might be able to provide the resources. How much would you like?"

"If native foods are as good as you claim," He was somewhat shameful to admit it, but the appetite of a dôji was directly proportional to his power requirements. Consequently, he had a staggering one. Funnily enough, if they can manage to normalize relations with the organic civilizations, the food businesses would perhaps jump in joy in the face of potentially very lucrative business. "I would like the table fully loaded."

Sophia nodded, "It will be done."

"Oh, I swear. All this talk of food is making me hungry in due turn." Milieu patted his midsection, a very human motion to indicate how famished he felt, "Is there anything else you need to show me, or may I go tend to it?"

"Sorry about that, but though an update was in order," the golden-maned aspect smiled sheepishly, "the real reason I wanted to talk to you is on something else. Something more important."

With a sigh, he put his gauntlets on hips as he fixated his gaze into Sophia's blue and yellow eyes. "I understand, and what might trouble you?"

"Y-yeah. It's just that... indeed our current priority is to set up and prepare for a future onslaught by organic forces. But we should also consider what we will face beyond the most imminent threat – that of our old nemesis." Sophia said

"The Kurozu." Milieu's expression turned solemn, "What are your thoughts?"

Sophia nodded his thanks, and sat cross-legged onto the floor on his end. "We can safely predict what they will do at first as a matter of naturality: Establish off-world factories on any number of easily accessible celestial objects, then commence mass production ad infinitum so long as the Sol System's natural resources will allow with one overriding goal in mind."

"Galaxy-wide extinction event." the more regal dôji summarized, "And beyond."

"Precisely. In that, they are as predictable as they are a bottomless well of sadistic fatalism. Unfortunately, their course is only easy to tell up to that certain point. What is left is how they'll carry out battles from now on... And even more unfortunately, the only way to get an accurate estimate is observing the Kurozu's current testing ground for future efforts."

"... The Citadel Blockade of the Sol System."

"Aye. Due to current Council priorities; destroying us, they won't enter the Sol System in force. So the kurozu has the luxury of pitting forces and test designs against the greatest naval power in the galaxy without reprisal."

"Question is if they will actually even bother."

"Either way, I believe it is imperative that we establish a recon group for the set purpose of observation – if nothing else to let us know if the kurozu go and do something big."

"I can see the need of it, and I deeply agree, but it's an impossible task at this point of time." Milieu sighed regretfully, "... It is something that must wait till after the war starts, and only if we can keep the organic fleets at bay reliably."

Sophia slumped, "... I understand."

"Don't be like that." he chastised the aspect mildly, "It just has to wait for the time being. Do some preliminary paperwork and find potential candidates, bring your plan to the full council again when the right time comes."

It looked as though an electric current shot through Sophia as he looked down to the floor, looking deeply embarrassed, "Y-you're right. I've let worry ride me and jumped the shark."

"Don't worry, I'm not thinking less of you for it." Milieu changed his tone for the more reassuring kind, "You're afraid of all the destruction the kurozu has such a capacity for may wreak if we handle the threat poorly, and looked for a solution to help minimize it."

"But I should have known better than bring it up so soon."

"Everyone makes mistakes. Even the wisest can be caught by their own momentum. Just go and rest then back to work. You'll feel better."

Sophia exhaled at length and reclined his head, "I will do that. Thank you for your time."

"And yours."

The connection terminated and Milieu was left to relax in an emptying room as the holographic image faded away. With lazy aplomb, he scratched his neck and looked up to the ceiling. "Captain, next transmission please."

"Aye Lord."

Once again the room's features turned vague as another image overlapped them. This time his surroundings took the shape and form of a dark office, complete with a large desk and its diminutive owner. Avaro was one of two aspects of short stature, and matching lack of patience. Forced to wait so long, he was irritated enough that he could not hide the scowl of an expression in time as Milieu turned to regard him.

"Sure took your sweet time." the rat-like dôji commented on his wait, "Was wondering if you'd ever come around."

Ignoring the diminutive being's tone, Milieu shrugged, "I was preoccupied speaking with Sophia, Avaro. His transmission came alongside yours and just happened to come up first." and quirked an elegant eyebrow, "Is that a problem?"

"Ah!" Avaro caught himself and clasped his gauntlets together in a placating manner, "Not at all, I was merely curious to make a request in light of your trip to Hephaestos."

"What manner of request?"

"My people down there just finished putting together the premade modules for the Chthonic Station, our HQ in the System at least for the time being. It would mean much to them if you, um, came by for a visit."

Listening to this, Milieu felt distinctly like a mascot. It was both curious and exasperating at the same time, and he was not aware which one weighed the heaviest. "My reason for going to Hephaestos is first and foremost to conduct an experiment. I will consider whether or not I visit the facility before or after."

Like a near-rodent, Avaro nodded frantically, "I understand, but please. I just kind of..."

It was somewhat unexpected to see him fidget, so he put hands to hips and looked on the aspect of Greed with a slightly tilted head, more than a little suspicious. "You promised a Grand Aspect would come by, right?"

"I... may have."

"Oh, Dunstan's blood." he swore the rather severe oath, "You shouldn't promise your workers so much, their morale would plummet if you don't keep them. Guess I will have to come by now..." and sighed, "Just be mindful that next time you're about to do something that involves the rest of us, talk to us first."

Avaro inclined in resignation, "I will."

"Make sure you do." Milieu said pointedly and turned to leave, "Now if you don't mind, I got a certain thing to tend to before we arrive."

"Of course. My gratitude."

No sooner had the dark office's image dissipated before he was outside with the com dôji who surprisingly managed to looked up at him, though some of that discomposure from when he delivered that bear hug was still there. He did not think they would look him in the eye for a while after that, but they did. Neither could be more than five years old, which is far into adulthood for a dôji but still very young especially compared to one such as Milieu. They were young, but pretty brave besides.

"Children." Milieu addressed them with a regal flair, and both snapped to attention – each as stiff as a plank. "Would you be sweet and go fetch me something tasty? I will be at the observation deck."

Surprised by the request and eager to fulfill it, both of the minor dôji scurried over one another as they rushed for the kitchen, much to the Grand Aspect's amusement as he watched them go, then went ahead to wait for them.

With both meal and entertainment secured for the remainder of the trip, Milieu expected it to pass like a pleasant breeze.

Location: Utopia System; Eden Prime; Oinari village.

Balak threw his hoe to the grassy ground in boiling frustration, and felt both surprised and horrified that he was about to do this. He had just been put through another morning of bone-breaking exercises that included moving a whole lot of so-called Gargant-manure.

It also surprised him that it took an hour of the stuff before he was thrown the hoe and subsequently exploded like a fusion bomb, "What the bloodiest storm? Why the hell am I doing all of these menial tasks!"

"Because you're my farmhand." Lyta Lyle brushed him off easily and pointed to the partly plowed field. "Continue where you left off."

"I am not doing any more work best fit for lowlife slaves!"

"We've been over this."

Balak snorted, "You..."

Promptly, he was cut off as the dôji faced him with a frown, "Take it as a humbling experience. You think slaves like being put through the same?"

"It is not..." he sputtered angrily, "... not work fit for a man!"

"Ho." Lyta Lyle folded his arms, "And what precisely counts in your eyes as a 'man's work'?"

"Ranching! Handling herds of powerful animals!"

"So ultimately the only reason your species rose from the stone-age was that your women tired of your machoism?"

"..."

"Am I right?"

"..." Balak wanted to reply, but found himself speechless at the comeback.

"Interesting to know." the dôji hummed and thought as something came to mind, "Well, speaking of handling animals I do have a herd of Gargants. Let's see you have a go at it."

With a way to escape this menial task in sight, Balak seized the chance without hesitation. "Leave it to me, I'll show you how it's done."

Next thing he knew, Lyta Lyle led him to a large enclosure and opened an over-sized gate while pointing into the distance, "It is probably your first time dealing with these animals, so here's a poker and a simple task. Get them to move on the other side of the field."

Balak almost tore the poker from the synthetic's grasp, a sign that he was growing used to his host and taskmaster. "Then get out of my way. I'll show you some real Batarian mastery over the likes of animals no matter how tough they are!" He had never actually done ranching before, but it looked rather easy holo-vids, and is a damned sight better than the other tasks he had been given so far.

With amusement in his eyes and a dismissive gesture for him to enter with an expression of his confidence in him, Lyta Lyle closed the gate behind him and he went to work, and crested a hill to look for the herd.

As the saying goes however, 'If you can see the enemy, they can see you too'. And as he found the animals, an idle part of his brain instantly wondered whether doing menial tasks was a better idea.

Oh the hilarity of this was well worth putting up with the alien's infantile barking.

Lyta Lyle tapped his foot on the ground as he waited for the faint minute it took for Balak to start screaming in undiluted terror, and blasted himself into the air to watch the inevitable show from a position of thirty feet above ground, with a grand smirk at the sight that he expected and now watched.

Down there across the field, Balak ran like a madman to stay ahead of the Gargant herd's Alpha that was apparently overjoyed with the finding of something smaller that is actually weaker than itself to bully.

Such amusement probably bordered on sadism, but there was little need to worry so long as the batarian got the stamina to keep running, which he on all counts had as he stayed ahead and managed to build distance.

"I must say," Lyta Lyle poked fun as he flew close enough above for the alien to hear, "you sure know how to put yourself in a place of authority..."

"Shut up!" Balak yelled on top of his lungs.

"Hurry, I think he's gaining on you!"

"Arrrrrrrgh!"

The dôji shrugged as he watched the Alpha. Gargants has a lot of strength and mass, but little of anything else. An Elephant could outrun Gargants rather easily. Meaning the Alpha stood a better chance of getting ahead of Balak if it sat on its ass and waited for the alien in his terror to run circle around the planet.

He did not have time to wait for him to undertake such a grand journey though, so he maintained distance with the alien, "I can pick you back to the hoe anytime if you feel like it."

"B-by the Pillars!" Balak cried deliriously, "Save me out of here!"

"An apology first."

"Y-you, don't be that guy right now!"

"Oh I'm going to be that guy right now." Lyta Lyle said flatly, "Now apologize."

It looked like every fiber of the alien's being was about to protest, but he despite that managed a desperate; "I'm sorry!"

"And?"

"... And I won't bitch about the jobs you give me!"

"Good, was that so hard?" Lyta Lyle giggled as he dropped himself between the alien and Alpha like a thunderbolt, and held a wide-palmed gauntlet up as if to tell the latter it has done enough, accompanied by a stern gaze. Obediently, understanding that its fun was over, the Alpha ground to a halt, let out a satisfied grunt and turned away. With its frustration vented, hopefully it'll focus on more productive stuff for now, such as breeding, the dôji thought of it as he turned to lead the already quite exhausted batarian out.

Balak grumbled all the way, "That poker you gave me, it did nothing..."

"Sure it won't while you're running away."

"Gr."

"Now pick up your hoe and continue from where you left off." Lyta Lyle indicated the discarded tool in the distance and prodded his still grumbling farmhand onward to take it, "I'll go and check on the Gas bags."

"Sure you will." Balak said lowly as he went and retrieved the hoe, raised it into the air and hacked hard against the soil to overturn it. At the very least the morning exercises gave suitably quick results as the batarian with improved swinging technique saw progress.

The dôji watched him intently as he moved to walk past the field to make sure the alien is doing his job until satisfied enough that he turned away... only to almost jump in a start as the alien suddenly let out a loud yelp when the earth audibly shifted almost violently. Alarmed and curious, Lyta Lyle whipped around and found the place previously occupied by Balak dominated by a foxhole-sized pit.

At it, he simply stared for a bit at the new and outright unwanted feature to his field. And when the alien failed to even utter his displeasure at the whole notion of dropping down a hole of unknown depth, the dôji approached with an exasperated sigh.

"I swear, no one's that unfortunate."

Balak began to scream soon as it became all too clear this was not merely a pocket as he awkwardly tumbled down the mess of a hole that just yawned wide open as if to receive him with that last hew, and tried to grab for anything he could only for the surrounding dirt to come apart and cause a lilliputian avalanche to join in and usher him along further and further down. A journey he stood no chance in stopping.

Only once did he manage to catch hold of something solid, and absently he noted it felt altogether alien and familiar at once. But he had nowhere near the time to make heads and tails of it as by momentum his hand slipped, and the trip resumed anew until he finally dropped out what apparently was the other end, spent a miserable second in free-fall, then painfully hit a surface far too metallic and flat to be anything but an artificial construct similar to that 'thing' he grabbed further up. Whatever it was.

With a back aching from the impact, Balak slowly and haltingly pulled himself up to stare down into the total dark so as to be desolate and unnerving.

It made for a moment where he was for the first time glad to have that synthetic nearby as more dirt fell from the hole, followed by the slight figure that belonged to his taskmaster. Whatever this place is, he had no desire to brave it on his own.

"What is this place?"

Lyta Lyle stared down the passage that the hole above culminated into, and ran his claws along the wall on his side. He felt its smoothness, its quality of construction. Well-built, though it eventually could not prevent the corridor behind them from caving in. But there was something strange to it, there was no simple wear and tear to it.

"Some old ruin." Balak hissed, attention more on whatever might lie in the dark, "Maybe Prothean."

"Oh, my tater patch." the dôji muttered in dismay at the implications of such a discovery, "There just had to be some ancient alien ruin under my property of all places."

"Uh-huh..."

"Bellyaching aside, this looks like sabotage."

"How can you tell?"

"Look at this material." Lyta Lyle huffed as he tapped a claw to the wall, "Father knows how long this has been abandoned. But however long there is little sign of damage from lack of maintenance, yet we have a completely crumpled passage behind us."

"Sabotage, by what?"

He really hated this development, but guessed there was nothing for it. "I don't know, but there might be an answer up ahead... Let's look around."

Balak huffed, "Was afraid you were going to say that."

"Nonsense," he replied while leading them on, part of his left arm turning to a flashlight function, illuminating the area ahead, "the lust of treasure is practically rolling off of you in waves." History tended to demonstrate that upon the discovery of ruins, many would rather make of with the contents, especially those of more criminal qualities.

"Hmpf..."

Maybe fortunately the corridor did not last for too long as the two advanced, and no more than five minutes in arrived at another cave-in, with an added feature in the shape and form of an elevator to their right – minus the contraption, leaving a wide open hole.

A look inside was enough to judge that it would only lead down, logically enough. Lyta Lyle went on to grab Balak by the back of his overall and activated his thrusters the moment he stepped past the edge at enough power to descend slowly – much to the discomfort of the alien he carried along.

"Shit," Balak expressed as his skin paled, "I'm bad with heights!"

"Oh be quiet." the dôji frowned, "It's just five hundred feet from the looks of it."

The batarian was not reassured as he kicked lamely at ground that was no longer there along with a most unmanly whimper, "Hii!"

Soon enough, though not enough for the organic who for the rest of the ride held the synthetic's arm tightly, they arrived at the bottom. The broken elevator was in the way, but a work-over from Lyta Lyle's claws and they were free to proceed into the chamber beyond... where both were left briefly agape.

Before them stretched a gigantic chamber far into the distance, and branched off to additional equally sized corridors along the way. It gave an illusion of it going on forever. Or that is, if it wasn't for the wall behind them. Question was, what was this place built for? What was its purpose?

"Hey, what's that?" Balak pointed at an object no more than twenty feet ahead.

Lyta Lyle was curious too, and closed the gap to kneel down next to it. The object in question was vaguely humanoid, but wholly robotic. "A synthetic of some kind. Now let's see... if it can tell us anything..."

With a brief flexing of claws quickly done, he buried them into the machine's outer shell and peeled it off layer by layer. It was almost like a dissection, but with less caution required as he only needed specific parts of its internal hardware. Alien and ancient or not, some similarities must apply to the matter of instrumentality where as the innards of machines are concerned.

Apparently it struck Balak as dissection too as he came to loom over him and the broken machine.

Only a short while passed before he finally found something that looked like this thing's core and found its receptacle. He eyed it carefully for a bit before he shaped a tool that would go in, and slid it in. And immediately, he noticed there was a slight power signature remaining, which would save them a trip to the surface. Glad for this, he sifted through its programs with utmost caution.

"Hm, seems we found our little saboteur." Lyta Lyle exclaimed as more data was rendered available for scrutiny by the second. He could not read the texts, but binary was familiar wherever one went. But of course, the recordings within sped up the process considerably.

"Huh?"

"You could call it a marauder. It just happened to find this facility and decided to take it down." the dôji started to explain while continuing to browse, "It could not destroy the place by its lonesome, so it went after all the system and collapsed as many escape vectors to the surface as possible..."

"Escape vectors?" Balak looked up and around, the whole lengths of the mighty walls covered by what seemed like pods come to think of it. For a moment it struck the alien as strange why he did not notice those before.

Lyta Lyle looked around briefly as he took in the scale of what happened here, "This was a storage facility for cryogenic pods, but with the limited demolition and alteration to base programs the system supposed to wake them after a certain time had elapsed could no longer do so."

Nervousness took the batarian as a chill was sent through him. Criminal or not, even he was affected by the atrocity committed in that distant past, "So what you are saying..."

"This is no longer a cryogenic facility. It's a tomb." he hissed and discarded the core he read from with no attempt to hide his disgust, "As this place lost power over time, people died in their pods. There might still be a chance however..."

"A chance?" Balak blinked from three of his eyes, perplexed.

"I imagine this kind of system would have some kind of triage in order to preserve the lives of important personnel. We'll split up and search. If you find any pod that seem functional, call me."

An hour quickly passed after Balak agreed to look around. It meant he would go for extended periods without much of any kind of light, but was relieved that there seemed to be nothing dangerous here of note, no wild animals, nor any danger of the place suddenly collapsing.

How reassuring.

He followed the nearest wall carefully, attentive for any sound that might signify still active machinery. Hopeless as it may seem to find any live prothean after fifty thousand years, he had agreed to try.

Partly it was because of how he discarded that piece of machinery with such revulsion. For most of his time on this planet he viewed the dôji as simply insidious machines who were actively trying to deceive him and every other organic – that moment of intense disgust toward the action of another synthetic however weakened that image. It was too genuine.

Balak panted as he stopped, exhaustion taking its toll. How big is this place?

As he breathed heavily however, a low hum of machinery slowly became apparent, and though his strength was in great deal spent, it made him scurry forward. Finally he had found a lead, along with a faint light as he arrived at a pod and found it still active. To actually find one still active... was no less than damned miraculous.

"Hey!" he shouted across this terribly still chamber, the voice giving off several echoes as it traveled away from him, "I've found something!"

A minute rapidly passed and he swore the echoes still continued until they were drowned out by what sounded like a rocket engine as the dôji blasted into sight and landed some teen feet away before dashing in close, eyes on the pod. "This it?"

"Yes, this is the only I've found."

Lyta Lyle ran his claws over the vaguely oval pod as he sought for a way to open it, and was gratified to find an interface for manual controls partially hidden by a half-closed lid at its base. He opened and pulled the retractable interface out so he could properly study the thing.

At first, he ran head-first into a problem that presented itself in the form of an utterly alien language he stood no chance of reading. A terrible obstacle that spelled the death-toll of their efforts until he looked over the console further, and found to his complete relief a an emergency release switch on its side.

Just pull, and he could pop this alien out of stasis.

The power feed was worrying though. If there is insufficient power, the process could stop partway and the occupant would die.

What I wouldn't give for the presence of a Son of Pardonner right now.

Unfortunately they did not have the time to head back out and fetch anything to feed it more power. The pod looked like it is on its last leg, so one could say they came right in the nick of time. This was simply too close to be a coincidence.

"It seems this whole affair is due to raw fortune. Luck that we came just now, and it is now onto luck that we need to trust."

"What's going to happen?" Balak questioned, expression grim.

"Death or life." Lyta Lyle simply stated, "There is a fifty fifty chance that it will be either or."

"Shit."

"Indeed." he curled his gauntlets together to pray, "Slow, father, please grant this one your benediction." and at its completion unclasped his gauntlets and seized the switch between two of his claws, pulled it cautiously, turned it fully around and finally pushed it back in.

Ancient machinery hiccuped into gear as the pod reacted to the instruction of emergency release and initiated an end to the occupant's stasis – its life hanging by a thin thread that could either tear or hold. During it the dôji clasped his gauntlets together again, praying with every groan as the machine sputtered and hissed – each sound followed by a menacing instant of silence before it would resume again.

During the taxing process, what little energy was left to feed it dropped dangerously low, and threatened several times to empty fully. It caused a terrible tension that did nothing but stretch on, until finally the lid hissed and tried to open.

At this, the energy was finally depleted and the lid stopped halfway.

"Ah, it better not be dead!" Balak groaned, "Bloody hell."

"It won't." Lyta Lyle assured as he stood and reached for the half-open lid, and with a forceful tug in either direction forced the thing open. The batarian ducked as the half of the lid on his side was torn off and discarded into the distance, "It damned well better not!"

Relief was however evident as both looked into the now wide-open pod, and found the strange alien within. It was anthropoid at least, with two legs, two arms, and a head that included two pairs of eyes and three nostrils. All of the visible parts of its body were covered by a carapace of sorts. Otherwise it was suited in a fancy hard-suit.

"So this... is a prothean." Balak commented, seemingly nodding in approval at the quartet of eyes – apparently an evolution the alien agreed with.

"And it's even uglier than you." Lyta Lyle grimaced, for some reason he felt rather underwhelmed. He shrugged it off and reached in to cautiously scoop up the alien, "Anyway, I'll take it to the surface and-"

Of course, that had to be when the alien decided abruptly to drunkenly open its eyes, tried to focus on him, and in a burst of confused panic blasted him... with something. The dôji could not quite explain what happened, except he was suddenly and forcefully elevated off the floor by an invisible force and propelled into the neighboring pod with nearly enough force to dislodge it.

Lyta Lyle spent a full second processing what exactly was the nature of that attack until Balak cried "Biotic!" and fell back, in the process of cursing his own muscle memory as his training tried to make him reach for a gun that was far removed, "Oh crap..."

The batarian's less than congratulatory expletive was accompanied by a forced "Um... hi." as the prothean clumsily extracted itself from the pod, while glaring furiously in the direction his voice came from... its eyes softening momentarily upon actually seeing Balak, if only out of confused incomprehension, before it proceeded to seize him by the throat and shouted utter gibberish.

In any case, as Lyta Lyle felt the effect he had been bathed in dissipate, he decided that this had to be put down for the moment and sauntered to the prothean with an air of annoyance. "Sorry about this, but I'm going to have to ask you to take another nap!" he said with the full knowledge that this alien could not understand a single word and struck across its head with a mean backhand, forceful enough that it without another sound crumpled into a heap.

"Took your damned time," Balak coughed coarsely as he collapsed to one knee, rubbing his throat, "Bloody git had a real grip..."

"And here I thought you deserved a little time in the limelight." Lyta Lyle smirked as he crouched down by the fallen prothean and scooped it gently off the floor in his arms, this time without interruption. It looked sort of strange from an outside perspective, as the dôji was smaller than the one he now carried.

"Very funny. What the hell was that about anyway?"

"Confusion. What else?" he noted like it was obvious while checking up on the alien, to make sure his strike did not cause undue damage. "Hypothetically, what stage were your species in fifty thousand years ago?"

Balak glared with all four eyes, comprehending, "Er, living in caves and across the savannah."

"And here you are, halfway across the galaxy, wearing an overall, inside a thought-to-be secure facility, along with me, a complete enigma. Now get up," Lyta Lyle's voice cracked like a whip as he stepped past the taller alien, "keep on going and see if there are other survivors. I'll come back once I've got this one situated."

Nodding in begrudging compliance, the batarian stood and looked into the growing darkness as the only one with the flashlight left him, "Aye... will do."

Five hours later...

What an embarrassment... Commander Javik thought as he struggled to wake once again, this time with an enormous headache to go along with it. He entered stasis along with ten thousand fellow warriors fully knowing the symptoms of prolonged periods spent in cryogenic sleep. He was fully prepared, only to produce such a reaction fit for a child. No way could he live such a failing down before his people as they had no doubt started on the work to reform their empire on this green and fertile world.

It was the mission given, to hide until what remained of the terrible enemy that brought about the downfall of their entire civilization would come crashing down. For in their current state they could not defeat the enemy that they only managed to cripple by sacrificing everything else. Without an industrial complex to back them up, the extermination fleets still out there would eventually wither, and the extent of time this would take was factored into an estimate, the basis for how long their stasis had to last.

So with hope when the sleep finally ended, he had opened his eyes with full expectation to see a well-lit facility and his people celebrating in exultation... Only to stare into a painfully bright flashlight hued by a pitch black darkness accentuated by the faint outlines of a strange being with massive unnatural claws reaching out for him.

In the face of such a thing, of course he was startled into action and lashed out.

Bewildered, he had quickly acted on training and picked himself out of the pod to defend himself against an unknown threat that should not be, only to come face to face with an alien that he in the dark recognized as a member of one of the primitive species that live on the galaxy's south-eastern fringe.

Its species was one which males were notorious for all too frequently biting off far more than they could chew to the point some wondered why their macho games haven't made them extinct yet. Last he checked, their most advanced technology were simple knives of stone and campfire. It made no sense for it to be here, not in the few centuries that have gone by.

Still, rather than think of it as an illusion borne from his stasis-addled mind, he attacked as it reached down - as though for a weapon – and caught the creature's throat in a vice. "How are you here?!" he voiced his thoughts harshly, even worse as the physical contact brought in a flood of information that only deepened his disarray.

So much so that when he was suddenly struck down from behind, it came to him as a blessing.

And thankfully, when he once again felt his consciousness wake it came with a much greater clarity of mind that usually follow hours of uninterrupted rest - along with the headache of an era. But it did him no good though apparently as the first thing he noticed was the strange yet stiff softness of that he lay upon, including its strange tilt.

Javik opened his eyes again, but like last time it was not a recognizable ceiling within the facility that greeted him. It was too close, too pale and too simple. The realization made him jump into a seated position and looked around.

Once again he saw the alien from before. It stood several feet away with arms folded and a curious but wary scowl on its face, as if expecting him to snap again. So what he saw earlier was not a hallucination at all, something that instantly made him feel much less embarrassed for what happened.

In the same vein of thought, he realized the new knowledge gotten from it through his brief physical contact is the species' language. The coarse words left him as he articulated his tongue and throat to produce them; "Where am I?"

For it to be here still made no sense, but there was nothing to gain from denying the truth that stood right in front of him.

The alien's eyes flew wide open in surprise, much to Javik's very slight amusement. It certainly did not expect him to know its language with such immediacy. Before it could put its surprise into voice though, another voice penetrated the air, with a very smooth and melodic tune:

"Ho, I was worried we were going to have a language barrier to cross. What a pleasant surprise."

Javik looked for the voice's owner and found it seated on the chair next to the other alien in a seemingly authoritarian manner. Its figure was slim and unexpectedly elegant with bright flowing colors in its choice of clothing. Unlike the other, this one was a complete unknown not among the species of primitives his people knew of, but he was quick to recognize it as the strange being he first saw earlier in the dark by the huge claws that dominated its arms, and was surprised by how comparatively less threatening it now seemed compared to back then.

"As for where you are. I do not know what you call this planet, but we dôji call it Eden Prime. And this here is Oinari village. My name is Lyta Lyle and I am the owner of this particular property, a farmer. And this here," the being gracefully indicated the alien that flanked it, "is my farmhand; Balak. A Batarian." it indicated the other with one of its elongated metallic claws.

"Dôji." he tasted the word as he looked toward 'Balak', "I see, so your species took on the primitives as servants." That made a whole lot more sense than them reaching out at so young an age. "I will however be cross if you will consider taking us for the same."

A grimace crossed Lyta Lyle's fair if oddly two-eyed face as it exchanged looks with the other for a second, "I believe we should take this one step at a time. What is your name, warrior?"

"... I am Javik. Remaining Commander of the Prothean army. Avatar of Vengeance."

"Laudable title." the dôji nodded, "Care to share how you managed to learn a whole new language so fast?"

Javik frowned at the curious being, "All things provides clues for those who can read them. It is in your cells, your DNA. Experience is a biological marker."

"Hm, so you learned the language by just... touching him?"

"Yes."

Comprehension seemed to get to the dôji as it processed this, "So yours is a species that actually evolved complete with some kind of advanced psychometric ability?"

"... Yes."

"How amazing." Lyta Lyle smiled and clapped its gauntlets together in distinct fascination, "That natural evolution can accomplish such a feat."

"We evolved as hunters. To know every detail of our surroundings was crucial to our survival."

"I see."

Slight impatience colored his own expression, "And now that I have answered your question, it is time you answer mine."

Lyta Lyle held his gaze for a moment of... sadness? "... Fair enough. What would you like to know?"

"What has happened? Did your kind break into our facility? Did your kind take my people as servants like you did with the... batarians?"

"... I believe there is some misconception here." the dôji almost nervously brought a claw through its long mane, "So I'm afraid to ask you this... How much time do you think passed since you entered stasis?"

"Five hundred years." Javik felt annoyed, "And what..."

"What was the reason you entered stasis?"

"To outlast a fiendish foe we crippled at all costs."

"Synthetics?"

"Yes."

Lyta Lyle's left eyebrow twitched as he fidgeted, "So you expected never to be found?"

"... Yes." he felt confusion boil to the surface again, "Were we found?"

"I am sorry to say this, but yes. A single machine found you, and crippled a few choice systems in that facility before it fell apart."

Alarm filled his whole being, "Which system?"

"... The one that would have released you after five hundred years had passed."

Javik stood slowly, but was otherwise petrified with the image of that dark facility he had thought was a hallucination, "How much time has passed?"

"According to Balak; fifty thousand years."

"Fifty thousand years?!" he parroted in horror, "Then the facility..."

"Eventually," Lyta Lyle watched him severely, but with sad eyes, "its energy reserves started to deplete, and forced it to apply triage to the pods under its care."

"That would mean... my people would gradually die in their sleep!"

"Yes. We... accessed the facility by accident a few hours ago, and soon after found out what that place was for... and what happened." the dôji explained, much to the prothean's trepidation, "We've searched for hours, and I believe we've been in most parts of the facility by now. Your pod was on the brink of expiration, we just barely got you out of there in time."

"What about the others, where are they?"

"..."

"Is silence your answer?" Javik inquired carefully, lest he lose control of his voice in fear of what was to come, "Tell me... where are my people?"

"Gone..." Lyta Lyle expressed with a tone of total regret.

"So... I am..." he felt his knees give away and fell back onto the couch, "I am..."

"I'm sorry to say, given our lack of success in finding more... you may be the only one left."

For the first few seconds after being told that, Javik could only stare blankly ahead in an attempt to compute the scale of this failure. The mission they had been dispatched to undertake had failed utterly, there would be no new Empire, no other Prothean. He went in with an army, but emerged alone. Worst case scenario had happened.

He had grown accustomed to loss over the course of that past war, but this was beyond that. These people meant well when they saved him, but now he had to live the cruelty of never again seeing another of his kind.

So unable to utter even a word further, he slumped and buried his face into the palms of his hands. And though he hated himself for this weakness, he could do nothing but weep.

Lyta Lyle wanted to say something, but there was nothing that could alleviate the sort of pain that only the predicament of being the last could bring. So instead he simply sat there and looked on sadly, with gauntlets folded onto his lap. Was this perhaps the pain suffered by the father when he came to be the last of his kind?

That idiotic farmhand of his however did not seem to notice much of the glum atmosphere that embraced this room. Balak, perhaps bitter from that time when he was choked by this being, leaned down far enough that he could breathe on his ear:

"Should I tell what you are, just to see what happens?"

Of course he would have to be told eventually. But now was hardly the time for it. Therefore, intensely displeased by this suggestion, Lyta Lyle shot him a most indignant look and whispered, "One word of that, and you will suffer a most prompt removal of your muscular hydrostat. Understood?"

Balak clamped his mouth shut with great immediacy and rose away from him in silence.

With the batarian back in place, Lyta Lyle looked back on the silently mourning prothean. Inevitably he would have to report about this find to the proper authorities, but for the moment at least... he decided that it would have to wait. Give the alien some time to take in this new reality.

Yes, the dôji thought, that will have to do for now...

Author notes: It was the plan from the start to add Javik to the mix. The question was just whether he would first appear here or in the sequel. Some might wonder how he'll fit in here, but there have been a few hints here and there. He'll have a big role eventually, but for now he'll simply live in Oinari village, to come to terms of what happened.

Of course, when he becomes aware of how the population is except him and Balak made up completely of synthetics, I guess "This is not a good beginning." won't even start to voice his displeasure.