Unknown Location

Heart pounding in unison to his trepidation, Lance made his way to the observation lounge. The corridors were silent. There were no guards, no personnel. Most of them had been shifted to their assigned ships, the rest were defunct and would soon be extinguished. Bracing himself when he reached the door, he tapped the door panel. The door snapped aside. He stood frozen at the panorama revealed across the huge window. Moving like a man in a dream, he walked to the window, arms outstretched as if to embrace the vision. The cold of glass against his palms brought him back to some semblance of reality though the wonder of what he was seeing still gripped him. How long he stood there, he had no idea and would have stayed so but for the beeping from his omni-tool.

A raven-haired woman glared at him from the small screen. "Have you misplaced yourself?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, Stella. I know I promised to be there with you but-," he began.

"Don't sorry me! You are supposed to be in the vanguard."

"There're still some things I have to clear up."

"Haven't you done enough for him already?" she interrupted, anger sparkling in her dark eyes.

It was a long running argument. She was unhappy with his scurrying from place to place over the years instead of staying and helping her put the project together. Let the others risked themselves, she had often said. Why did Saracino have to keep sending him? She never knew it wasn't Saracino. The project was too important, he couldn't afford to let it fail.

"Let's not talk about that," he said with a placating smile. "I won't be far behind. I promised I will be there with you. On the heads of our children, I swear."

"That depends. I can always find another man," she threatened.

"Cat, cat, catty." He grinned when she raised a fist at him over the nickname. "I'll be with you before you know it."

"You don't want to know what I'd do if you don't." She threw him a vulgar gesture before ending the call.

That was his cat alright, hissing and spitting when she didn't get her way. Shaking his head, he raised his eyes to the window and took another long look at the fleet of ships neatly in formation. Finally, after so many years of toil, it was going to happen. Checking the chronometer on his omni-tool, he tapped in a code on the comm terminal next to the door.

"Status," he said when the Cerberus commander appeared.

"Taskforce Elysium is ready, sir."

"Proceed as planned."

"Sir." The commander saluted. Outside, the vast fleet began to move, heading towards the distant mass relay glimmering in the distance.

Local Cluster
Earth, Alliance Navy Intelligence HQ

The array of viewscreens barely flickered at the data snakes streaming continuously at speed. For any organic being, it would have been impossible to keep track of. To the young woman sitting before the workconsole, it was child's play sifting through the thousands of logs. The only problems she had to handle was fragmentary records.

Restoration of satellites after the war was slow. Transcripts were patchy. Even after five years, the security network that had formerly covered the planet was not completely restored. The Alliance, she noted, had chosen to place more auxiliary 'eyes' and interspersing the more powerful sensor platforms in the cleared zones of the debris field to address the vulnerability of habitats exposed to an airstrike. More was studded in the vicinity of the Citadel. The fear of an all out attack on the station while it was undergoing repairs had been overwhelming. Collateral damage had been the most utmost concern.

"..pssst. You there?" A tiny voice said softly in her ear receiver.

"Where do you expect me to be?" She shunted the data she was viewing to one side, hardly missing a beat in her scanning processes.

"Down by the juice dispenser? It's been thirty-two and plus," said Joker.

"They do not serve juice here."

"You don't say? That's downright abuse. I should file a protest."

"Who would pay attention to it?" she murmured.

"Like who cares if you jacked off in the cockpit?"

"Your passengers would."

"There are no passengers onboard the Normandy."

"I beg to differ." Her fingers tapped smoothly over several keys, changing a few displays in turn. "When chief Monroe's evening chow is tacky enough to stick through several shifts."

"You just have to bring that up, don't you," Joker grumbled. "How is it my fault again when the boogie showed up as it did and painted the entire dinner over the mess hall?"

"As I recalled, you were the one at the stick." She cocked her head at the next set of DTS logs.

"Hey, I was avoiding the paint so everyone could get to eat their next meal. How is it fair of the chief to make me the whipping dog?" he protested, recalling the insipid fare the miffed cook served up the following days and the "flak" everyone tossed at him whenever he stepped into the mess hall. The only ones to float above the whole affair were the XO and the captain.

"When you were trying to be the top dog?"

"So tell me again what you are going to do with a bandit on your tail?"

"There will not be one," she said confidently.

"I might just borrow the Ain Jalut one day and make you eat those words," he threatened.

"You know where to find me."

"Yeah, right." He made a face at the console before him, wagging his fingers, dropping them immediately when the comm beeped.

"Helm, set a course for grid three-four-gamma-niner, sweep pattern omega," came the XO's voice.

"Yes, sir. Setting course for grid three-four-gamma-niner, pattern sweep omega," Joker affirmed, fingers flowing smoothly across the controls. "So what're we looking for out here?" he asked softly, plotting a path that would ensure the Normandy avoid most of the orbiting debris field.

"Updating DTS," she said.

"You said that hours ago. You also said none of the sensor platforms are malfunctioning. Are we chasing zorks out here?"

"You know better than to ask over a unsecured comm."

He rolled his eyes. "Anyone listening in wouldn't know what we're up to messing around with these floating piles of junk. Riirrght. You know what? I'm always the last one to know funk is rolling down on us and I always get the grandstand when it all goes down the clapper. Yet I'm expected to come back with the stick. I should ask for a pay rise."

"It is too late, Jeff. When you signed up for the Alliance, you have already acknowledged the role you would play."

"Don't you pull that one on me, EDI," he growled.

"Down boy." Her tie in to the security scanners in the facility blinked once; someone was approaching her workstation. A duo.

"Just wait till you get back here..."

"Not now, Jeff." She cut the comm long before the tread of footsteps reached her. "Admiral," she said without lifting her eyes from the console when the footsteps halted behind her.

Langdon glanced at the displays. "What do you have for me, Lieutenant?"

The data was streaming too fast for him to catch a thread of, so fast that they looked like long sinuous snakes whipping themselves through the screens. One of the screens cleared to show a projection of the debris field surrounding the planet. Numerous icons appeared. The sight of it put him in a swiftly swinging paroxysm of satisfaction and fear. Satisfaction that she had managed to root out a potential threat in so short a time, though she had yet to affirm it. Fear that they were too late to prevent a potential offensive this close to the planet.

"Sir, I can confirm with a ninety-nine percent surety that all security, sensor and tracking platforms are functioning at their fullest capacity and performing according to specifications."

That was a relief to hear but he didn't think she would send him a summons just to tell him that. "And?"

"DTS logs in the initial deployment was patchy when the entire debris field was mapped. Identified hazards were removed and a controlled corridor cleared to allow passage for traffic. A plausible estimation on the number of residue and their trajectories was reached three years ago. Since then, DTS has been running on a hourly schedule to maintain a au courant database."

Langdon nodded patiently, eyes on the viewscreen as the icons representing the sensor platforms and debris field flashed respectively as she spoke. "Are you saying there is a change now?" He crossed his arms and stared anxiously at the screen.

"No, sir. The change has been occurring as containment of the debris field was carried out."

"What?" His gaze snapped to her. "Clarify."

"The statistics for the debris field should remain moderately stable as spatial forces imposed their influences. However," she paused for a second as she marked the changes in the display, "I am detecting a gradual upsurge in numbers in several grids over the last three years."

He frowned. "How is that possible? Are they there by natural or artificial means?"

"Artificial, sir. It is impossible for such an increment to occur within such a short period of time."

His frown turned heavier, creasing his brow so deeply that a line ran between his eyes. "If there are hostile components hidden in the debris field, containment is near impossible."

"Yes, sir," she agreed.

"How was it done?"

"There is a high possibility the method of delivery was through the daily traffic."

"Why was this not detected?"

"There is a disparity in platform dispatches and entry logs here."

"Someone here is altering information?" His eyes narrowed. Was it possible that a mole had managed to stay hidden within the facility for so long? With effort, he kept his voice low, his gaze on EDI instead of examining the personnel working around them.

"I found a repetitive batch pattern dispersed by a sleeper in the database. It is programmed to circumvent inspection in a routine scrutiny. The parameters of the program is flexible, designed to alter data and could have been embedded in any secured Alliance terminal before the facility was reestablished."

"What's the percentage of increment at present?" He looked at her when she didn't answer at once. "Well?"

"By my estimation, the coverage of the unknown components around the Earth is seventy percent ."

"Seventy..." His blood turned cold as his lips went dry. "Have you been able to define what are these new additions to the debris fields?"

"Scan results have been scanty. I am unable to determine, resolve or single out any of the foreign components. There is no energy signature. Whoever is behind this has possibly planted sensor jammers or perhaps able to mask energy output."

That was a development he really did not want to hear. If Cerberus had made improvements in stealth technology to extend it to armaments, that would drastically tilt the board in their direction. He kept his face impassive as she continued.

"I have examined records of certain events, sir. There is a possibility that the incident at RF14 might be tied in to this. Taiga Provisioners is one of the three major supply companies that ply numerous routes to most colonies and allied ports. They are also one of the few major suppliers to have a contract in every enclave on Earth."

"Are you suggesting..." He stared at her in horror, face paling for a few minutes before he rallied. "Continue with your assignment, identifying the menace in the debris field is your first priority, notify me immediately if you find anything," he said crisply. "Additionally, if there are any vermin hidden among the ranks, I want them secured as soon as possible."

With Operation Ardones in effect in two hours, she was not certain she would be able to track down and unveil any operatives within the system. The multi-faceted encryption she encountered was atypical from those employed by the Illusive Man's agents. A point she would have raised but she could see the admiral was considerably distressed.

"I understand, sir," she said instead and knew she had chosen the right response when he looked slightly eased. "Sir," she said as he turned to go. "Would it not be prudent to abort Ardones?"

He frowned as he considered the suggestion. "I cannot say. There are certain factors to consider. Carry on." He nodded sharply to her before striding quickly to his office, his silent assistant following.

His mind whirled furiously. The Citadel could not be the target. Of that, he was certain. It had to be Earth. Cerberus intended to take it. The question was when were they planning to launch their offensive. It had to be when the Citadel was gone. The Citadel Fleet that protected the station and the Earth would be gone too, leaving the Alliance Home Fleet and First Fleet the only defense against any assault. Was it possible Cerberus had foreseen such an eventuality? Were they going to keep on seeding the debris field until they had enough fire power to knock out three fleets?

Whatever it was, the Citadel Council had to be notified, but not before he updated the Old Man. He was not sure if the Council would agree to halt the operation. With the aid of the Citadel Fleet, they might be able to locate and destroy the components in the debris field. If Ardonnes was to go ahead, Cerberus might take this chance to attack. The fear he held back coursed through him when he recalled the global destruction during the Reaper invasion. The flames that enveloped the planet could very well happen again.

As expected, Hackett wasted no time pulling in the Council once he heard what Langdon had to say. With the Citadel shut down, members of the Council had opted to station themselves on their respective cruisers assigned to the Citadel Fleet instead of the Destiny Ascension. It took a few minutes more to pull in matriarch Lidanya and Admiral Nowak, commanding the Citadel Fleet and Home Fleet. To Langdon, it seemed to take forever; he couldn't shake off the feeling that something really bad was going to happen. The sight of the asari councilor was balm to his eyes as all parties were assembled. Somewhat to his surprise, the discussion went quickly.

"As gratuitous as this may sound," said Sparatus, "but is this information reliable? There is no hard evidence to support the premise of an attack, only numbers."

"We cannot dismiss it out of hand," Valern interjected thoughtfully before Langdon could answer. "If it is true, I would be interested to know the identity of the faction that executed such an enterprise. Do you have any suggestions as to who it is, Admiral Langdon?"

"We do not think it is the TI. The scope is enormous. It is doubtful they have the resources to implement it. We do have certain suspicions," Langdon said evasively. It wasn't the time yet to bring up Cerberus but he wasn't sure he would be able to dodge the subject should the Council pursue that line of query.

"Nailing down the guilty party can be sorted out later," Hackett put in firmly.

"Yes, sir," Langdon said impassively, glad that the old man was there to flip the issue to the side. The Councilors remained silent, apparently not adverse to dropping it. "Hostile intentions are certain but as of this point, we cannot determine the time table or the intended targets," he continued.

"Seventy percent is almost two-thirds the number of enemy forces we faced in the last war. That's enough to throw at everybody in orbit," Admiral Nowak of Home Fleet said gruffily, "and ground side."

"Are they mobile or stagnant devices? What is their operative range?" Sparatus wanted to know.

"There is insufficient information to determine what form of operation they are capable of," said Hackett, "besides the clear probabilities of threat they presented. Even as this matter is being investigated, we have to decide now whether Ardones should be aborted."

"But can we be certain that either the fleets or the Citadel stationed in this sector are the intended targets?" Lidanya asked gravely. "While fleet and civilian vessels are vulnerable, the Citadel is able to withstand several days of bombardment from advance weaponry. Even with a great number of devices planted in the debris field, it is hardly plausible they would be able to penetrate the station's superstructure."

Standing beside her, Tevos added uneasily. "We have to consider that they are solely intended to assault the nearest planetary body."

"Whatever we decide will affect the disposition of the resources we have at hand to prevent the threat from reaching any soft targets," said Hackett.

"What do you propose, Admiral Hackett?" asked Lidanya.

Before Hackett could speak, an alarm sounded in the comm room. The holographic images of each member of the conference turned in their respective hubs to respond to similar alerts. Langdon hit the key of the intercom to Operations on the console before him just as an announcement came over the speakers.

"Unscheduled translation detected at Charon Relay. All stations, condition two. Condition two."

Citadel

"All station personnel, report to your posts. All station personnel, report to your posts."

The voice over the station speakers was not that of the gentle smooth tone of the citadel V.I. Avina. Westir wished it was as he hurried down the corridor of the R&M apartments, picking up speed when he realised he was one of the last to reach the lobby. The C-Sec officer stationed at the entrance waved to him, urging him to hurry. As he crossed the doorway, the officer spoke into his comm and then joined the exodus to the lifts at the far end. Behind them, the main doors to the apartments closed. The lights within went out as those in the corridors outside turned amber.

In the lift, Westir breathed deeply. His heart raced and dropped as the lift moved. He was not the only one feeling nervous as he looked at his fellow passengers. The others were just as apprehensive; eyes blinking too fast or glazed, wetting of lips, pale faces, inaudible murmurings. No one knew if the operation would be a success. They could all very well end up in bits and pieces in the attempt to move the Citadel. He caught sight of Tessie, cramped in a corner of the lift. Her eyes were closed, her lips moved wordlessly. Praying, no doubt.

The lift stopped now and then, disgorging and taking on more passengers in various hue of blue, brown and orange uniforms. Then came an inflow that pushed everyone up against one another, adding discomfort to the anxiety. He had to fight to get out at his floor, elbowing and squirming. Like an eel, Tessie popped out behind him. Her foot caught on someone's leg. He grabbed hold of her before she fell. Gripping his arms silently in thanks, she hurried off down the corridor as he followed. There was hardly anyone else but them in the passage. Everyone in their designated group must have gone to the control room.

"All hands! LCON (alert condition) 2! I repeat. LCON 2!"

The announcement froze him mid step. Ahead, Tessie turned wide eyes on him before she took off like a frightened hare. The warning blared again, breaking his paralysis. He ran as if his life depended on it. He turned the corner and saw the doors of the auxiliary control room closing in response to the alert. His heart seized and for a moment, he thought he was having a heart attack. Putting on a burst of speed and twisting his body sideways, he managed to slide in before the doors sealed completely. He stumbled to a halt, legs shaking. No one looked away from their stations at his entrance.

"...node niner-three-delta-four at trixus-delta-six junction read ninety percent in..."

"...affirm Ward Arms Sequence Alpha..."

"...readings are normal. Try the beta-x-four node..."

"...shutting down gletnium relays to..."

The quiet exchanges washed over him like a calming wave as he tried to get his breath back. Drake spared him a glare before jerking his head in the direction of the console he was supposed to take charge of.

"What's going on?" he asked softly of his salarian colleague once he had wobbled over.

"Something unscheduled just came through the relay," Malon returned without taking his eyes off the readings on his screen. "Something big."

Westir sent a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening; if he had to go, at least, let it be without pain. Preferably unknowing that anything was heading his way.

SSV Glasgow

"Merchant vessels Trikos and Pa'moni, return to your designated berths."

Dorrin scrutinised the green icons in the holotank as his XO tried to herd two merchant freighters back to the rest of the flock huddled in the CVHA (commercial vessel holding area). With one hand to his earcomm, Canning listened as the freighter captains replied to his message. His expression turned dark.

"I say again, you are not clear for departure. Return to your designated berths."

Minutes went by. When it was clear the freighters' course did not change, he sent another message. "This is your first and last warning. Return to your berths or we will open fire. You have two minutes to comply."

At that, a burst of protests came over the comm. So loud that Dorrin could almost make out the words the tinny voices were shouting over Canning's ear piece. "One minute thirty seconds," he said in response.

The double green icons that were beetling down the commercial vessel transit corridor in the debris field slowed. For a moment, they stayed there. Dorrin wondered if they were trying to call their bluff or simply trying to churn out a better course of action. In light of the alert to an unexpected relay translation, along with the heightened tensions to the current operation, their reaction was justifiable. He would prefer to have all commercial vessels removed from the Sol system if he could, but that was not his call.

"Forty seconds," Canning said impeccably.

If the freighter captains were dithering, that decided them. The green icons slowly backtracked to the group of freighters berthed in orbit. The sigh of relief around the holotank was barely perceptible but the tighten atmosphere relax slightly.

"Status on unknown bogey."

The display on the holotank changed to a overall chart of the system. A red mass of icons was rapidly approaching Earth.

"There is still no update from system reconnaissance probes or the Roneh and Arterium. Scans are still cloudy, they're trying to clear it up. Probable ETA is forty minutes."

"Status on the Citadel."

"Citadel Control report complete ward arms closure in five minutes." Canning highlighted the icon of the space station, revealing the ward arms in the last few hundred metres to a complete seal. "All ward sections on station are secured-," he paused. "Priority message from Alliance Command."

"Let's see it." A screen popped up before Dorrin. "Well, well," he murmured under his breath as he read the message. "The boon dockers will be happy with this."

"Sir?"

"Command want the sheep out of here before they become mutton in a free for all. Contact all merchant vessels to get ready to move in the next ten minutes. He nodded to the communications officer. "Get me Essen and Almada."

Fringe of the Arcturus Stream

"Sheesssska!" Feron cursed when he burnt his finger for the umpteenth time with the make-shift soldering spanner. "Damn it!" He shook his hand angrily as he looked at the disassembled view screen with a sinking heart. Wringing his finger in the vain hope the pain would disappear, he stepped over the scattered components and stomped to the cockpit of the shuttle.

"Tell me we're THERE!" he roared at the mech in the co-pilot's chair.

"It will be an hour before we enter the Arcturus Stream. If I may say so, sir. It is better to go according to schedule."

"Shut up," Feron seethed, wishing he could flush the mech out the airlock.

Flinging himself down in the pilot's chair, he stared out of the cockpit. Ever since he realised the shuttle could not make a direct jump to the Sol system, he knew whoever was behind his kidnap, never intended that he reached the humans in ample time to warn them. Why? Maybe he wanted them to suffer or maybe he just wanted to drive Feron out of his mind. Whoever had prepared the shuttle also disabled his ability to communicate with the outside world. He was sure something was happening in the system right now. If he reached Earth, he was not sure he would not be blown out of the sky. But then, why bothered to go through all that trouble just to get him killed? Feron didn't think he warranted an elaborate route of death. Rubbing his tired eyes, he tried to think.

"So tell me again how am I supposed to make outside contact?"

"I do not have the answer to that. I can tell you that once we reach the Sol system, the next block in my programming will open."

"How about I dismantle you now and open up that block..." He sat up.

"I do not recommend such a procedure, sir. Unauthorised handling will result in the immediate destruction of this shuttle." The mech turned its head as he muttered under his breath. "What did you say, sir?"

"Shut up."

"I recommend a sleep period-," the mech began.

"Can't you just-," he began wearily as he stood up. "I"m going to work on that communicator. Tell me the moment we reached the Arcturus Relay."

"Of course, sir."

Thessia

So where did she go?

The cold water made Shepard shiver but the throbbing in her head seemed to abate. Opening her mouth, she let water run in and spat it out, clearing away the sour aftertaste lingering on her tongue. For several minutes, she stood under the cold stream. Despite the weariness weighing on her, she felt better by the time she exited the bathroom. Only to feel downcast again at the sight of the empty bedroom. Goose pimples broke out all over her body in the cold air but she made no move to dress. Sitting on the bed, she stared at the empty spaces.

Where did she go?

The door chimed. "Yes?"

"May I have a word, Shepard?" said Javik.

Great. She didn't want to see anyone. She debated telling him to go away. Grabbing a towel from the wardrobe and wrapping it around herself, she opened the door. Javik didn't blink at her half-nakedness.

"What is it?"

"You have an appointment with Telienos."

"What of it?" she said irritably.

"It's almost time for you to set off."

She stared at him befuddled. "Since when does any appointments of mine concern you?"

"When your well being is paramount."

"What, are you my minder now?"

"In light of what is happening around you, yes."

She flushed in anger. "What the hell do you know what's popping around me?"

"Shepard." He cocked his head at her, his voice gentle. "I do have two pair of eyes."

The absurdity and truth of that allusion caught her by surprise. It wasn't exactly funny but she laughed, leaning against the door as she hugged herself. He regarded her stoically, as if he didn't realise what he had just said but the gleam in his eyes belied the obtuse air he assumed.

She coughed. "Fine. Just give me a few minutes."

Shaking her head, she closed the door and crossed over to the wardrobe to dress. The amusement sustained her until she sat down on the bed to put on her boots. Regarding the empty bed, she shrugged. Whether Liara was deliberately staying away or no, there was no point in her moping around the house. Better to get out and do something. Perhaps Telienos could help her figure out just what was going on in her bondmate's mind.

"Are you driving?" she said as she exited the bedroom.

"Do you like being driven?"

She screeched to a stop at the top of the stairs. "That's a loaded question." She peered at him. "What's with you today? Are you really Javik?"

"Are you really Shepard?"

"Okay, wait. Now you're creeping me out. You-." She broke off when she spied Hannah walking passed the bottom of the stairs, duffel in her hands. "Shit." She ran down the stairs as Javik followed. "Mom, where're you going?" She ran after when Hannah didn't reply. "Mom!" She grabbed hold of Hannah's arm just as she reached the front doors.

"You've recovered. It's time I get back to my duties." Hannah regarded her coolly.

"But..I.," Shepard stuttered as she tried to sort out her jumbled thoughts. "I never thought you'll leave so soon."

"What do you expect me to do around here?"

"I...I thought..."

"What?" Hannah stared at her. "What are you really thinking?"

Shepard wasn't sure how she was going to answer that. "Do you have to leave?" she said instead.

"Young lady, I am an acting admiral in the Systems Alliance. Do you expect me to dally around at leisure while a battle is being fought out there?"

If she had been younger, her spine would automatically stiffened and she would have assumed an attention stance at that voice of authority. Now, Shepard stared at Hannah in pique, hearing the familiar bark and bite that was so prevalent in her youth.

"Fine, admiral," she bit out. "I would not presume to take much more of your time. Although I had expected different when you came here," she added as Hannah turned away and took a step back when the older woman turned on her.

"What exactly were you expecting?" Anger blazed in Hannah's eyes. "I came here the moment I heard what happened to you. To try whatever means I have to wake you from the coma. I came bearing hopes that we could make a bridge between us. I know I have not been the best of mothers. I know I was not there for you when you needed me. Do you think I'm blind ? Do you think I was not affected?! The fault is mine. I want to make amends, to explain why I did what I did. I was not expecting an immediate acceptance but I was hoping for some receptive countenance from you."

"I...," Shepard stammered, feeling that matters were sliding out of control.

"But what did I get instead?" Hannah gritted. "I find that I've been tried and convicted without a trial. I'm less than a speck in your eyes."

"Mom...," Shepard began desperately, "that's not..."

"Enough," Hannah cut her off sharply. "I don't have time to stand around to debate. I'm needed back at fleet."

Shepard watched helplessly as Hannah stepped through the doors and into the taxi that was waiting outside. As she watched the vehicle vanished into the sky, Shepard felt as if everything was unraveling around her and she hadn't the least idea how to fix it.

"Shepard," Javik said softly.

"What," she said dully.

"If you would find yourself, go to Telienos." Gently, Javik tapped her on her shoulder to get her attention. "Trust me. You will know who you are."