Chapter 43 – Forging Onwards

March 29th, 2211, 1932 hours —Anhur, City of New Thebes— Special Facility LV-427, formerly known as Misthaven Maximum-Security Penitentiary

Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…

(Chief Science Officer Alice Anders. Codename: MORDRED – Project Transcendence)

Tom paced the length of the lab like a man possessed. Though usually composed and downright stoic, the N7 was now clearly agitated. He would mutter to himself and his eyes would dart back and forth across the floor. As always, he had one hand over the compartment of his armor where Alice knew he kept pictures of his old life.

Alice simple stood there, her back to a lab bench, patiently watching her friend come to terms with everything she had just told him. She had just relayed to him her entire conversation with Achimundé and was now watching him take it all in. As she had suspected he would, Tom was having trouble digesting all of it.

Eventually, Tom stopped. "Alice, it just doesn't make sense. Any of it."

Alice sighed. She uncrossed her arms and pushed herself off the bench. "What do you want me to say Tom? That the science checks out? It doesn't, but last I checked neither did asari mind-melding or prothean sensory abilities."

She raised a finger and pointed it back in the direction of the room where Achimundé was currently being kept.

"If it were any other being who had told me those things – a salarian, an asari, a quarian – I would have called for a psych exam. But it wasn't. It was a being that up until now had been dead for who knows how many years."

Tom ran both his hands through his hair and exhaled hard. His eyes were a storm of confusion and doubt, and Alice could hardly blame him.

"You're telling me that they could effectively clone an individual," the N7 said incredulously. "And I mean 'clone' clone. Not like a genetic clone, but cloning like they do in the goddamn holo-films. Reproduce a completely identical being."

Alice nodded. "The Cris'paii were light-years ahead of us scientifically, Tom. Apparently a huge portion of their population was dedicated to studying bio-engineering and life sciences. They called themselves 'Gene Architects'. We can't even begin to comprehend how much more advanced they were than we are. If even a fraction of what they're telling us is true, then they make even the Protheans seem like a bunch of undergraduate science students."

Tom scoffed in cynical disbelief, an uncharacteristic act that told Alice just how shaken he had was by the Cris'paii's revelations. In all the time she had known him, in all the time they had worked together, Tom had never doubted anything she had told him like that. He had never doubted her like that.

"And this 'Index' gene," Tom continued. "It sounds like a load of crap. How can it record memories? Wouldn't it have to be inserted at birth or something? If somehow I were to receive it now how would it record my old memories? How will we get it into the DNA of everyone the Reapers have harvested? It doesn't make any sense, Alice."

Alice was starting to get upset. She hadn't expected such resistance from her friend, not after everything they had been through together. "I don't fully understand it either, Tom, and I doubt I or anyone else have the luxury of time to figure it all out. This is the hand that we were dealt Tom, and we have no choice but to play it."

"And what?" Tom continued. "It'll work on other species? Even harvested ones riddled with Reaper DNA?"

"Achimundé says it will and after all, his DNA had Reaper DNA mixed in it too. It doesn't have to be inserted at birth for it to do its job, and in any event the Reapers should have stored the DNA of everyone they harvested so we won't have any trouble on that front. He says it was designed to work retroactively as well. He claims it would be a relatively simple matter to tailor it to work with other species and that he has a way of disseminating it. We just need to find the Supreme Architect first."

"And you trust him?" the N7 blurted.

Tom turned to her with a look of pleading. Cracks were beginning to form in the N7's resolve, and Alice could see that she was in danger of losing him. She couldn't have that.

"Tom," she said sternly. "This is our only – only – chance at bringing everyone back. Everyone the Reapers took from us. It took almost twenty years to get to this point. All the bad we've done…all the pain we've caused… this is what we bought for it. This one, single, precious chance."

She walked up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "We don't have any other options. We don't have another twenty years. Marcus' soldiers and those few asari and salarian hopefuls may have followed us this far, but do you think they'll keep following us if we tell them we're not going to see this all the way to the bitter end?"

Alice knew that only some those who followed them were die-hard fanatics like Morder Zakiah. Olivia Flanagan and the saboteurs aboard the Hippocrates had been some of those too apparently, unbeknownst to Alice. But, Alice knew that many others weren't like that. Some, like Severus, were desperate to prove themselves fighting for some greater goal. Others were broken individuals who wanted to bring back the people they cared about and lost during the war. In any event, all of them knew they were now complicit in some pretty horrific deeds, and Alice could sense that their resolve was flagging the longer this went on without some sort of progress being made.

"The Council are on our heels. Every day their fingers tighter around our throats. Now I don't necessarily completely trust Achimundé, but he is the best chance we have of bringing everyone back. He is the best chance I have at seeing my family again. He is the best chance you have of holding your wife again. We don't have another choice, Tom."

She tilted his head down so she could look him in the eyes. "Are you with me still?" Alice whispered.

The scientist could see the turmoil trapped in those icy-blue eyes. She understood the difficulty he was having with accepting all of it. She knew that he had hoped that their transgressions would have purchased a far better answer than some far-fetched alien bio-engineering, but it hadn't. This was what fate had dealt them.

She needed Tom. She wouldn't have made it this far without him. His love and devotion to his departed wife and his child both inspired and motivated her.

Tom was silent for a long moment before he finally nodded. "I'm with you. What's our next move then?"

Alice gave an internal sigh of relief. Her friend was still going to stand with her.

"We go to their home planet, this 'Mürabann'. We use the revival strain to bring back the Supreme Architect."

"And do we have any idea where this 'Mürabann' is?"

At that, Alice gave a small smile. "Tom if there ever was anything that would seem like a sign from a higher power that our course is right, it is this. We know how to get to Mürabann."

"You do?" Tom asked incredulously.

Alice nodded. "I showed Achimundé our star charts. He was able to recognize some of the systems and mass relays based on certain points of reference. Though the planet's name and the system's name weren't the ones his people had given it, Achimundé is sure which of the relays we will need to take to get to where his home planet is."

"Which one is it?"

Alice looked away. "As you know, twenty-five years ago I was part of a research group tasked with studying the Reapers following their defeat."

"Yeah," Tom nodded. "Lawson's little brain project, backed by Shepard right?"

"Correct," she replied. "Of course, once the Cris'paii DNA was discovered and Phenomenon began to manifest itself and people started to get sick, our project was halted. Only Project Prometheus was allowed to continue studying the deactivated Reaper cores and how they contributed to the Phenomenon."

"Right."

"But before our project was halted, we studied many of the existing Reaper constructs. Destroyed ships, derelict ships, even the Citadel. One of those constructs was the Omega 4 relay."

The N7 rubbed his jaw with his hand. "It was a primary relay, right? Leads you straight to the galactic core near a black hole, where Shepard found the Collector base."

"It wasn't a primary relay."

The N7's jaw dropped. "It wasn't?"

Alice shook her head. "It was a secondary relay. One of the largest we have on record, which is why we thought it was a primary relay at first. It was linked to one other system."

There were two kinds of mass relays, primary and secondary. Primary relays were only linked to one other relay, while secondary ones could be linked to several other relays over shorter distances.

"How?" Tom asked.

"Two decades ago, Shepard and I took the Omega 4 relay to that new system," Alice explained. "Even back then, I was sure that the key to unlocking the means by which we could bring back our loved ones lay there."

It had been a long time ago, back when the loss of her family was still raw. Alice had been younger then, and she had been convinced that the Reapers still held the key to an untold myriad of technological secrets. Secrets that she could use to undo what the Reapers had done. After all, Cerberus had inadvertently achieved proof-of-concept by using Shepard's DNA to bring her back with the revival strain. They knew the Reapers themselves were made from harvested individuals, so the DNA was there. The problem had always been restoring the victims' consciousness. The minds of the harvested victims were used to form the Reaper's gestalt consciousness, but those had been wiped out or deactivated by Shepard using the Crucible.

"I wanted to explore – to uncover more of the Reapers secrets… but Shepard wouldn't have it. Once we discovered the dangers that the Cris'paii DNA posed and the Phenomenon started to happen, Shepard had the project halted and declared the Relay off limits. She told everyone it was simply a primary relay aimed towards a black hole."

Alice remembered how gutted she had been when Lawson had told her that their project had to come to an end. She had said it was too dangerous, that they didn't know what they might unleash upon the galaxy by following the path that Alice had proposed. She said that too many people had given their lives for their hard-earned peace for them to throw it all away on a gamble.

"Anyways, Achimundé recognized the Sahrabarik system and the Omega 4 relay. He said that it would take us to his home system. I'm sure it's the system Shepard and I found."

The scientist gave a bitter sigh.

"There is only one problem. The Omega 4 relay still requires a valid Reaper IFF. Activating the Crucible not only destroyed the Reaper ships but also somehow wiped all the IFFs in them as well. To my knowledge, there is only one Reaper IFF currently in existence which wasn't destroyed, and that was only because it wasn't active in a Reaper ship when the Crucible fired. Getting it will not be easy."

March 29th, 2211, 2216 hours —Alexandria Spaceport—Temporary Command Center

Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…

(Spectre Operative – 10082181-Elektra)

"We will advance in a broad, arrowhead formation, nothing fancy. General Varro's legion will have the left flank. Kandros' legion will have the left. What armor we have will be in the front. The 49th under my direct command and the Blue Suns will be the vanguard. The quarian auxiliaries will form the center and will act as our rapid reaction force, bolstering weak-points and bridging gaps. Strike teams will be tasked with locating the SAMs and disabling them so we can regain air superiority."

After they had secured the spaceport and recaptured the operations room, Garrus had called for all of his officers and for Elektra and her comrades to attend an impromptu war summit to decide their plan of attack on New Thebes.

The Primarch was clearly an experienced tactician. He stood in a relaxed stance before a large holo-map of New Thebes, highlighting troop placements and movements and explaining contingencies and maneuvers with practiced ease. He had an air of confidence around him that was borne from having participated in countless conflicts. His gaze, basking beneath the cool light of the projections, looked calm and collected. Elektra admired just how easily he had adapted to the situation despite the nightmarish horrors he had found himself up against. She hadn't had nearly as easy a time dealing with her fear. Was Garrus even afraid?

One of the turian generals raised a hand. "Primarch, with all due respect maybe you should remain in the rear rather than the vanguard. Varro and I are more than capable of completing the mission."

Garrus smiled. "You've known me for a long time, Ravena. Do you seriously think there's any chance in hell I'm going to sit this one out?"

The turian sighed and gave a weary but apparently well-practiced shake of her head. Elektra saw that many of the other turian officers also did the same. Clearly this was a common occurrence with the Palaven Primarch.

"No sir."

"Good, I would have hated to have made that into an order. Sours our relationship."

Garrus turned back to the projection. "So, once we're within roughly eight-hundred meters of the crash-site, we're going to hold and form a perimeter. A strike team under the command of the Spectres will then insert and place the neutron bomb directly inside the Reaper core located inside the downed freighter. They'll then pull back to the safe zone and we will detonate that remotely. That should be enough to guarantee the destruction of the Reaper core."

Another officer raised his hand. "What about the surviving Anhur defense personnel?"

"Those susceptible to infection will stay here and continue with the evacuation efforts. Any turians and quarians are welcome to come along," Garrus replied.

One small blessing in this fiasco was that the creatures didn't seem capable of converting dextro-based lifeforms into more of themselves. That meant that the majority of the troops they'd be fighting alongside couldn't eventually end up fighting on the other team. Elektra supposed that was one small blessing she ought to be happy for. They could count on their turian and quarian friends to stay dead.

Percival stepped forward from beside Elektra and raised a hand as well. Garrus nodded towards him.

"Yes, Spectre?"

The former N7 cleared his throat. "Primarch, what about survivors?"

"Anyone who encounters survivors are to radio the quarian auxiliary forces," Garrus replied. "Commander Vas Darron will coordinate for the extraction of any survivors back to the spaceport."

Elektra could feel Percival tensing up beside her. Captain Murgen must have sensed it too, because the Jaeger tried to grab Percival's arm. Percival pulled himself away.

"And what about any survivors in the bomb's kill radius?" Percival asked.

The whole suddenly went quiet. Percival stared accusingly at the Primarch. He may not have said it but the unspoken implication was there nonetheless. Several of the turian officers in the room turned to look at Percival, bristling at the sight of the Spectre's impudence towards their leader.

Garrus grew silent. For a few moments he simply stared back at Percival with his own cool, blue glare.

The scarred Primarch then finally spoke. "Spectre, you've served before. You've led soldiers before. In your opinion, do I have the numbers to perform a detailed evacuation of the buildings in the bomb's kill radius?"

Percival hesitated. "No, but—"

"How many people do you think are still alive that close to ground zero of the outbreak?" Garrus said sternly. "How many soldiers would I lose If I were to spread my forces thin and attempt to search for and evacuate every last survivor?"

Elektra could see every word land like a hammer onto Percival's flesh. She wasn't even quite sure why Percival had deigned to bring this up. Surely Percival had enough experience and tactical acumen to know just why they couldn't undergo a complete evacuation? He must have known what the Primarch's reply was going to be?

Garrus' gaze softened and his tone changed. "It's a ruthless calculus Spectre, and it's one I've had the unfortunate luck to be all too familiar with. Spirits, if I could save everyone don't you think I would?"

The Primarch looked away. "But I can't. You can't. If I lose too many of my soldiers towards a strategically-insignificant objective I won't be able to keep the outbreak contained to these two cities."

Some of the turian officers nodded in agreement. Any officer with an ounce of experience could have told Percival the same. Elektra could see that the fight had been completely beaten out of Percival with the Primarch's reply. From beside the former N7, Captain Murgen placed a supportive, apologetic hand on his friend's shoulder.

Garrus' gaze then hardened. "I will destroy this entire continent – no, this entire planet – if that meant preventing another outbreak," the Primarch continued. "Council or no Council. Some will die so that more may live. That's the way it is. It's the way it always has been and unfortunately it may be the way it always will be."

And there it was. The hard truth. No matter how much Percival might try, they wouldn't be able to save everyone here. Off to the side of the room, Elektra could see Malan starring at the ground. She wondered if he too was still thinking about the slaves he had left behind to die.

"I'm sorry, Spectre. Truly. Once my soldiers are in position we will broadcast our position and ask that any survivors try to make their way towards us. That's the best we can do."

Garrus then cut the holo-map. For a brief moment, Elektra marveled at the figure that the Palaven Primarch cut. Clad in his worn-down suit of armor, the middle-aged turian looked more like an old, grizzled soldier than he did a politician or a holder of public office.

More than that, he exuded an almost cocky air of confidence and competence. The admiration in the eyes of his officers also told Elektra just how much they respected their Primarch's abilities. Here was someone who had fought and beaten the Reapers and now that he was here, everything was going to be okay. The only individual in existence who had killed a Chimera with a single shot.

Not even Cloud had managed that, and he had been armed with a mini-nuke launcher. Elektra laughed inwardly at that thought and she couldn't wait to tell her friend when he got back.

"Everyone head back to your legion and arm up, we mobilize within the hour! I want that Reaper core dead by dawn!" Garrus ordered. "For the Hierarchy!"

"For the Hierachy!" echoed the turians in the room.

The officers moved into action. Elektra saw Malan and Revak slip out ahead of the mass of turians. She slipped the younger Ghar'aran a quick nod, which was returned by the batarian.

"Come, lets meet up with my platoon," Murgen told Elektra and Percival. "We'll be at the front of the mix with the Primarch, his personal guard and the Havocs. The Blue suns too."

The trio left the room and headed towards the part of the spaceport where the Jaegers currently had their make-shift armory and prep room. The spaceport was almost completely devoid of civilians now. In their place marched hundreds of turian and quarian soldiers, each of them armed to the teeth and looking extremely determined.

"I was a bit surprised he'd want to fight beside them after that whole fiasco out on the tarmac. He isn't scared they'll shoot him in the or something?" Elektra said.

The Jaeger let out a laugh. "I've known Vakarian for many years. He's a good man and a fantastic soldier, but his mouth has always had a bit of a reputation – one that Revak is probably aware of. He'll rile up anyone he thinks deserves it, but he won't let petty squabbles get in the way of completing the mission. Vakarian will be a model comrade-in-arms once the bullets start flying, just you watch."

"Besides, you weren't around back then kid. The entire galaxy from the Serpent Nebula to the outer reaches of the Terminus Systems had heard of Archangel and his deeds on Omega," Murgen continued. "If a fight did break out, my money would be on Vakarian and his Blackwatch.

Elektra turned to Percival to see if her fellow Spectre had anything to add. Unfortunately, he seemed to be lost in thought.

"Percival, you okay?" Elektra asked.

"Hmm? Yeah," the Spectre nodded. "Sorry, I'm just wondering if Cade is close to finding Cloud yet. Neither of them have yet to report in."

"I'm sure they're both going to be fine," Elektra assured him. "Even I have to admit that those two have some sort of weird, star-crossed bromance that defies mecha-zombies and crazy fanatics. They'll find each other."

Percival gave a small smile. "Yeah they do, don't they? I'm glad someone else besides me noticed it."

The Jaeger's armory was the old VIP lounge that Elektra and Nat had frequented just before the attack. The room was a mess. There was blood everywhere and the piano had been completely shattered. Elektra looked at its broken hulk with a bit of sadness. How quickly things could come apart.

There were only twenty-two Jaegers left out of the original platoon of just over thirty. Cloud had taken half a squad with him and they had lost several more during the battle for the spaceport.

Lieutenant Accerrimus Burton and his squad were already fully armed. The biotic had his N7 Hurricane on one hip and a Predator pistol on the other, as well as a full bandolier of lift grenades strapped across his chest. Elektra recognized their significance. As a fellow biotic, she knew that lift grenades were extremely handy when it came to setting up your own one-man biotic detonations.

Gunnery Chief Teewin had his Revenant on his back. His black armor was covered in damage but he otherwise looked no worse for wear. The Jaeger gave Elektra a nod as he saw her walk in.

Rake and his team all looked in one piece too. Each of them had Avengers, Katanas, and a full complement of grenades. Fly was still the platoon medic and as such, he had a massive medical backpack as well as his normal gear.

Accer handed Elektra a bandolier of lift grenades, which she accepted gracefully.

"They're the last from my personal stash, Spectre. Use 'em wisely."

"Will do," smiled Elektra. She pinned them to her belt and grabbed a few spare heatsinks for her Katana and Hurricane. As always, she also had a spare Predator pistol tucked behind her back. For a moment Elektra debated taking a longer-range weapon instead of her usual short-range complement, but she decided that it would be better if she played into her strengths.

Garm and Rayla were there too, already armored up. Galen had apparently been called to the Primarch's side as part of his personal guard. Apparently, the young turian had almost fainted afterwards. Galen had adamantly swore that it was from combat fatigue and nothing else.

"It finally be nice to go on the offensive," Rayla quipped. "I always thought we were sitting ducks in this spaceport."

"You two ready?" Elektra asked.

The old krogan huffed. "I've been ready since before you were born, runt," he replied. Garm looked out the window towards the city of New Thebes. "Still, this all reminds me of the Battle for Earth."

"A bunch of different species desperately pushing their way through a husk-ridden city towards a nebulous Reaper construct with nothing but a few Mako tanks?" Rayla chuckled.

Garm's good eye widened. "You were there?"

"I watched half the huntresses in my squad get vaporized by a Reaper beam," she said simply.

"And Vakarian at it again, being an enormous pain in my ass," grumbled Garm. "Wish we still had Shepard. She always had him by the quads. Knew how to keep a tight leash on him."

Elektra was always a bit surprised whenever she someone spoke about fighting personally in the Reaper war. She supposed that there were many krogan and asari still alive who had fought in it. Murgen had fought in it too, but she had never talked to him about it.

She then turned the Percival. The Spectre had his Avenger out on the table before him and a cleaning rod in the other, but he wasn't performing any sort of maintenance on the weapon. Instead his eyes were fixed on a distant point, as if he were deep in thought.

Elektra placed a hand gently on his bicep. "Perc, you okay?" she asked.

Her colleague looked up. "Hmm? Oh, sorry. Yeah, I am."

He looked to be distracted again, and that wasn't something Elektra wanted or Percival needed. Especially not when they were about to launch an all-out assault over hostile territory.

"Is something on your mind? Want to talk about it?" she offered.

Percival thought about it for a moment, then set the rod down, placed both his hands on the table before him and sighed.

"Like Garm said, all of this just seems to dredge up old memories. Except for me, it reminds me of the Battle of Bahak."

Elektra knew what he was talking about. It was the same thing that weighed on Malan's mind. She was familiar with Percival's role in the battle and his decision to save his fellow marines rather than evacuate slaves whom the doctors had said would be beyond rehabilitating.

His brow furrowed and the Spectre looked down. "It feels like… it sometimes feels like we're all just stuck performing the same part or role in the same play over and over again. It feels like nothing ever changes. Nothing we do ever changes anything. It's always the same song and dance."

Percival closed his eyes. "Ten years later and here I am again, unable to save everyone… unable to protect everyone," he continued quietly. "Ten years of being both an N7 and a Spectre and I still feel as powerless as I did all those years ago on Bahak. I just don't know if I can handle it again. I don't know if I can just let those people die."

It was funny how two people who had been on the opposite sides of the conflict both felt responsible for the death of those slaves. Elektra didn't know what to say to the man. If Cloud or Cade had been here perhaps they would have known what to say to their friend, but Elektra wasn't as close to him as they were. She didn't know what to say. All she could tell him was the truth from her point of view.

"Percival. I won't begin to pretend that I understand what you went through on Bahak and how it compares to what you're going through now, but I do know this. The rest of the people on this planet? They need us. They're not the ones you think you let down on Bahak all those years ago. Neither are any of the survivors who might get trapped in the blast radius. You haven't failed them at all yet. These aren't ghosts – they're real people who need our help."

Elektra grabbed him and spun him so that he was facing her. A few of the Jaegers stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange. Her fellow Spectre towered over her but she was unperturbed, nor did she care who was watching.

"Remember what you told me all those years ago? Back when you asked me if I wanted to become a Spectre? You said to me 'Don't let the past prevent you from doing the right thing today'."

She grabbed his Avenger off the table and shoved it into his hands. "Well today, I'm telling you the same thing. Let the past go, Percival, or more people are going to die."

Murgen appeared beside Percival. "The lady is right, people are counting on us. If you want to save as many people as you can, you can't let your fear of the past hold you back."

Percival looked at both Elektra and Murgen and then nodded. "You're right," he admitted. "Sorry, I'm just a bit up in my head right now."

Percival's expression changed. Elektra thought he looked determined now, which was what they needed. Murgen was a dependable, experienced, veteran Jaeger, but he lacked the same charisma that Percival. Percival had an uncanny ability to inspire soldiers like no one else. No one ever really looked to her and Cade for leadership, and most people only looked to Cloud for inspiration because they were impressed with the Spectre's ability to pull off suicidal shit. Like it or not, they needed Percival out there. Without Cloud here, everyone knew he was the de facto leader.

Percival stepped towards the door having finished gearing up. Though he didn't know it, all the Jaegers had stopped and turned to look at the Spectre as he did so. Percival eventually stopped just short of the door and turned around. His eyes scanning the mass of heavily-armed, black-armored figures before him. All of them looked mean and angry, ready to avenge their fallen comrades and the all the innocent civilians that had died and would die tonight.

"The turians have graciously invited us out for a night on the city," Percival grinned.

A few of the Jaegers chuckled. Jay gave a whoop and even Garm was smiling.

"Let's show them that the Systems Alliance knows how to have a good time!" he finished.

More whoops this time and some cheering and it was all Elektra could do to keep from rolling her eyes. She didn't want to be a kill-joy.

Percival's expression changed and grew more serious. "Look around you. None of you are in this fight alone – remember that. Remember that there are billions of lives counting on us. Remember your fallen comrades who gave their lives so that others might not have to."

The cheers and whoops then died down, to be replaced with cold determination. A city full of those deadly creatures awaited them. Who knew if they'd be around tomorrow?

He turned and faced the door. "Remember, we are marines," he finished so quietly that only Elektra could hear.

Percival stepped out the door, Elektra and the Jaegers following close behind.

Out on the tarmac the turians were already assembled in their companies. Turian soldiers formed tight phalanxes, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with each line an equal distance from the next, their eyes on their commanders at the head of each company. Turian analogues of the Mako or Hammerhead tanks formed the front of the wedge – M-080s she believed they were called, or Juris Infantry Fighting Vehicles. Elektra marveled at their discipline.

The quarian brigade was in the center-rear split up into smaller platoons, more lightly-armored and in formations not quite as rigid as their turian counterparts. The Blue Suns looked the most disorganized. The companies mainly kept to themselves, but they had split off into individual squads and even fireteams. Elektra spotted the Ghar'arans and Navarrian at the forefront. The Suns would be right in the center, alongside the Jaegers and the Primarch, the Havoc troopers and his guard.

The turians around them now had to be Turian Havoc troopers from the 49th. Clad in heavy armor, repeating rifles and sporting a set of thrusters much stronger than what the Turian Ghost Infiltrators and Cade had, these aerial combat specialists were capable of hovering several meters in the air and providing a withering amount of firepower. It wasn't Elektra's preferred method of combat, but these turians were a dangerous addition to any battlefield. They were basically mobile gun positions.

Elektra spotted Garrus at the forefront of a column of Havoc troopers. A Blackwatch officer and an officer dressed in Havoc gear stood beside him. A dozen other Blackwatch soldiers formed a protective perimeter around their leader.

Garrus turned to the Havoc trooper and said something that Elektra couldn't hear. The Havoc saluted and made a hand-signal to another turian.

Immediately, music began to play from speakers on the turian armored vehicles, just like what had happened when the turians first touched down. Deep, electronic beats interspersed with synthetic sounds and no lyrics of any kind.

Garm gave a loud groan. "Not this again," the krogan grumbled, as if he were reliving some tortured memory.

"Is that… 'Blue Azure' by Vaenia?" Accer asked.

Murgen nodded. "Aside from being the most hands-on Primarch I've ever known, Garrus is a big fan of music in combat. Personally not too many people care for it, but I suppose that's one of the perks of being Primarch."

The young Jaeger gave a light groan as well. "Vaenia hasn't been popular in like twenty-five years."

Garrus turned and spotted Percival and Elektra. He waved the group over.

Elektra, Percival and the Jaegers pushed their way towards the Primarch. The Blackwatch soldiers kept the group in their sights but the Havoc troopers around them barely even acknowledged their passage.

"Operative Percival, sorry to do this to you but I want you beside me up until we reach the holding area. You're the closest thing I have to an expert on these creatures and I need you helping me handle any unforeseen developments," the Primarch ordered.

"Yes sir," Percival saluted. "Murgen, you'll have the Jaegers then," the Spectre said. Murgen nodded.

Percival then turned to Elektra. "Elektra, during the push can you stay near the Blue Suns? Be our liason?"

She nodded. "Anything you need."

Satisfied, Garrus then deftly climbed up onto a nearby Jiris IFV. The Primarch activated his omni-tool and began to speak into it. The music temporarily halted as his words were broadcasted to the assembled troops before him, nearly fifteen-thousand strong.

"Turians are no strangers to war," he began. "From the Rachni Wars to the Krogan Rebellions and the Reaper War, peace has been purchased with turian blood."

Garrus paused for emphasis, allowing the words to sink into his soldiers. No one made as much of a whisper as the Primarch spoke – even the Blue Suns.

"And it is a price that we turians have gladly and proudly paid – and will continue to pay. Because we know better than anyone that peace, freedom, justice, and security aren't cheap."

Accer cocked an eyebrow. "Hey, isn't that the—"

Garrus pointed a talon towards New Thebes. "My fellow turians," he continued. "In that city our enemies await! The shadow of the Reapers once again rears its head, and once again it is our duty to meet them!"

The turian Primarch stared down at his soldiers. His eyes scanned the faces before him. Though some were old enough to have remembered and fought the Reapers, most were young and either had not been born or had only been children then. Though they had been briefed on the creatures and their capabilities, they were still an enemy the likes of which they had never seen before. Elektra saw a tightened mandible here, and quivering scales there. As stoic as turians might seem to other species, Elektra knew that they too were not immune to the greatest biological instinct there was.

Garrus raised a clenched fist and pressed it over his heart. "I know some of you are afraid, and I am too! But my brothers and sisters take heart! For they are an enemy we've beaten before! They are an enemy we'll beat again! This planet needs us! This galaxy needs us!"

Elektra did not know how many of those creatures were waiting for them in New Thebes. Come dawn, it was possible that every last one of them would be dead, and she might even end up being turned into one of those creatures.

Rise! Rise! Do your duty!"

But Garrus had the faith of his soldiers – and had inspired hers as well. Many of the turians started to cheer voraciously at their Primarch's words. The night sky echoed with the cries from ten thousand turian throats. Elektra felt a surge of hope well up in her chest. They could do this. They could win this, she felt.

Garrus lifted his Mantis in the air. "For the Hierarchy!" he cried.

"For the Hierarchy!" his soldiers cried back.

"Die for the cause!" Garrus finished.

March 30th, 0048 hours — New Thebes – Misthaven Maximum-Security Penitentiary

Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…

(Spectre Operative 04272182-Cloud)

It felt as if I was in a dream. Time seemed to move both incredibly fast and incredibly slow. My body moved as if under its own accord.

Entering the prison had been relatively easy. There hadn't been any guards and my omni-tool hadn't picked up any traps. My Spectre code-breaking programs had been enough to open the metal gates barring entry to the main prison.

Clearly something was wrong inside my head. The dreams were starting to take me while I was awake. The first time it had happened was during mission to save the escapee from the saboteurs. This was now the second time, and it had been a whole lot more debilitating.

The doors of Misthaven prison were a few dozen meters ahead of the gate, down the stony path I was currently walking on, past a well-manicured lawn with some trimmed hedges. The lawn looked surprisingly well-kept and a bit out of place in this urban jungle. Statues of angels flanked both sides of the path – an odd choice of décor for a prison. They seemed to come alive in the rapidly-fading light.

The doors yielded to my codes just as easily, opening up to reveal a large ramp that descended into the earth. It looked like the prison itself extended deep underground. Emergency lamp strips lined the sides of the ramp, barely bright enough to allow me to make my way down the ramp without running headlong into a wall.

The audio and visual hallucinations were getting worse. I prayed that it wouldn't escalate any further. Was it perhaps a chronic symptom of the biotic-enhancing drugs I had taken aboard the Hippocrates? Was it just stress-induced?

My mind turned back to the asari doctor aboard the Hippocrates. Was I in danger of losing my mind like she was? If this escalated any further I'd end up getting myself and my friends killed.

Pull yourself together man, your friends still need you.

I shook my head. I booted up my omni-tool again and tried to access the private comm channels I shared with Percival, Cade and Elektra. It came up green.

"Percival? Ellie?" I whispered over the comm. I waited several minutes but there was no reply. That was strange. Were my friends still alive? Were there jammers or something?

That was cause for concern, but something in the back of my mind was driving me to ignore it, to press on. I turned on my tactical cloak and stepped into the darkness. My brain told me that I was here to investigate for signs of the saboteurs – but my body… well, it felt as if my body were a marionette, its strings pulled by some unseen puppeteer. Surely the saboteurs weren't here, right? I'd made it past the gate and had opened the doors virtually unopposed.

Step by step, I followed the emergency lamp lights down the ramp, cloaked and with my eyes peeled. Moisture lined the stone walls and it was cold down here, but that was to be expected when heading deep underground.

Eventually the ramp gave way to a security checkpoint, which appeared to be abandoned. It consisted of a simple booth designed for maybe two security officers and a door that likely lead into the prison proper.

I peered inside the booth. The displays were turned off and except for a bit of dried blood on one of the seats there were no other signs that it had been recently occupied. Had the prison been attacked by the creatures? It didn't look like it. Not enough blood.

I waved my omni-tool over the door. My code-breaking program easily opened it. If this were the saboteur's base, they had left it poorly defended.

I took a step past the doors. It led into a small vestibule likely for weapons scans and the like. At the other end was another door. The second set of doors opened as soon as I approached.

I stepped into the prison and looked around. I was in what looked to be a lobby of sorts. To my left there was a big screen that was now dark and to the right there was another security booth, so there was really only one way for me to go.

The prison itself was a mixture of old and new. Most of the prison was made from polysteel, plastic, and metal like most modern buildings, but I could see some parts of the walls where old stone and concrete poked up from beneath the more modern fixtures. It looked as if some ancient beast was slumbering beneath its surface or as if the prison itself was rotting away to reveal the sick flesh beneath.

I was headed down a large corridor with cells on either side. The cell bars were made of metal rather than plasma or ray-shielding. I peered inside them. None of the cells seemed to be occupied, but all of them showed signs of having been occupied.

The light from the lamps didn't really penetrate fully into the cells, but in the dim light I could see a number of signs indicated that the cells had once been inhabited. Some had pictures and drawings taped to the stone walls. There were ratty blankets and pillows and old food, odd knick-knacks on the bed, and even some books.

Where were the prisoners? Had the guards released them when the outbreak had started?

The air in here had a particular scent, like a mixture of musk and formaldehyde. It was also eerily quiet. Nothing but the dull thrum of the air filters

The prison ran like a maze beneath the ground. It was a strange design, perhaps one designed to minimize the effectiveness of a prison riot. I passed by tons of four-way intersections. Holo-signs pointed the way towards the mess, to the showers, the library.

I followed none of them. Instead of formulating a plan I wandered almost aimlessly for what felt like hours.

Perhaps I should leave, this place seems abandoned, I thought.

And not once did I encounter another living soul.

But I did see some signs of struggle. Some of the bars on the cell doors had what appeared to be fingernail marks on them. What was strange was that the scratches weren't made from the outside-in as I would have expected, but from inside-out, as if whomever had made them had fought to stay inside the cell.

It wasn't a good sign. I tightened my grasp on my talon combat knife and loosened up its twin which was sitting in its sheath on my lower back. I really wish I had a gun.

A pale, blue hand suddenly reached out from a cell in front of me and I nearly let out a scream.

I rushed towards the cell and peaked inside. There was nothing there, just an empty cell.

I screwed my eyes shut and let out a frustrated shout, not caring if there was anyone here to hear me. Deactivating my tactical cloak, I grabbed the bars and banged my head three times against them. What the hell was wrong with me? Why the fuck was I seeing these things?

I tried to throttle back the surge of emotions welling up within me. The cell bars felt cool against my skin. I concentrated on them, using them to keep me tethered to this reality. After a few moments my rage subsided. I turned around, placed my back against the wall and slid down onto my ass with a sigh.

It was then that I noticed a strange sound. Not that damned whispering in my head that had been plaguing me for these past few weeks but a different sound. A real one. It was a faint, whirring sound. It sounded like a tiny mechanical servo.

I looked up. Above me a security camera panned back and forth, then pointed down another hall. When I didn't move, it pointed to face me again before panning back and forth again and then pointing back down the same hall.

I pulled myself to my feet. Someone was alive down here. Someone who was hopefully friendly. Either way, I had no other leads and no other choice. I'd have to follow them.

I followed the camera, taking the hall down to another intersection. There, another camera began to pan back and forth before pointing down another hall.

I followed its directions, passing rows of empty cells. Eventually it pointed towards a lone door at the end of a hallway. A plaque above it read "security".

I raised my knife and approached the door cautiously. Once I was in front of it I knocked.

The door slid open. I saw a woman in a white lab coat.

"Sarah?" I croaked.