XxX-XxX-XxX

Official Supporters:

Obsessive Readers, Laurel

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Intrigued Readers, Archer

Commissioner, Gib, Death Daddy, Le Spork, Polemoduke

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : /2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i) (slash)kfhkfUb

Beta(s) :

XxX-XxX-XxX

Requested By :

Espacole and Spork

XxX-XxX-XxX

Pyrrha stood in the cantina, of all things, as she and her team prepared for insertion. Vakarian's team was on the other end, doing the same thing, and she knew that a couple dozen Marine squads were doing the exact same thing down in the bay. She'd seen it, and it was a chaotic nightmare of officers wrangling people around, making sure everyone was supplied, and trying not to get in the way of the Kodiaks cycling in from the Cerberus ships to ferry people onto the station in the coming minutes. Idly, she wondered what the Salarians were like on their ship…

And eyed Mordin, on Vakarian' team, for a heartbeat before she reconsidered asking.

"Friend Pyrrha." She turned, tugged out of her thoughts by her other artificial friend as he came over to her. "We have been assigned to your group. Is this agreeable?"

"Of course." She smiled, "Why would it not be?"

"We merely wished to obtain your consent prior to embarking." Legion responded, "We have learned that consent is an important item."

"Lessons from your Creators?"

"Affirmative." Their flanges flicked and wobbled as they considered the present state of Rannoch and, sounding almost… Pleased, they went on, "We have learned much from those willing to settle the world alongside us. And from interactions aboard the Normandy. We are glad to employ these lessons."

"Resettlement is going well, then?"

"With Geth assistance, one hundred colonists have settled onto the homeworld full-time." Legion answered, mandibles flicking excitedly, "These are the 'pioneers', as the Fleet has chosen to identify them. They are employing Geth units for construction purposes, setting up year-round greenhouses and nearby accommodation for the next wave of settlement using seeds from the Liveships. The Liveships are planned to be integrated into one stellar body, for space-based trade and organics growing in later-stage system development."

"I'm happy to hear it."

"Indeed." Legion nodded, "Further we… Have an offer."

"An offer…?" Her brows furrowed and she turned as Legion nodded. "What kind?"

"We wish to invite you to stay with us. On Rannoch." Legion answered, "Once the Collectors are dealt with, we calculate a high probability this team is disbanded. As such, we invite you to assist us in preparation for the Reaper threat."

"That's…"

"Further," Legion rushed to add, "we would like you to stay as our ambassador to the Citadel. An organic representative, a Human one, would do much in aiding our endeavours."

"That… Is a rather large commitment based on what was just a political move from months ago and-"

"It is merely an offer." Legion cut her off, a strong hand settling on her shoulder before she could back away. "Please, do not be distraught. We wished to honor you, not frighten you. Considerations can be made properly after the battle has concluded."

"Speaking of," her last member, Grunt, rumbled from behind her, nodding as she turned and took the small waist pack he was holding, "here. Extra kit. Cauterising kit, bandages, calorie bar- The works. In case something out there punches through."

"If something breaks my Barriers and Aura…"

"Commander wants 'em handed out to everyone with meat." Grunt rumbled, "Sorry, 'Bot."

"No apology is necessary." Legion's flanges flared, and they held up a small nozzle they took from a small ball on their hip. "We have sealant."

A heartbeat passed before Vakarian snorted from the other end of the room and choked out, "Was that a joke? Geth joke now?"

"We," Legion enunciated firmly, "are studying."

"All teams, prepare for insertion, and expect it to be hot." Shepard's voice cut them off, echoing through every single comm-speaker on the ship. "Teams are being dispersed in a rough layout surrounding the middle of the Collector Base. The goal is to overwhelm the defenders as best we can to establish a beach-head from which to reevaluate offensive measures. Push hard, but if you can't breach without severe casualties, withdraw to a solid hold point and simply distract."

"This is the first step in a long war which many… Do not believe is even coming. Prefer to act like it isn't coming." Shepard went on more quietly, "Some of them are among you, I'm sure. But whatever you think, you need to go in there like the Reapers are real. Because if you don't, then you will die. Think of your families, your friends- Your worlds, and fight for one day like everything is on the line. Because if you do, you may very well save them."

"Good luck, and happy hunting." She finished, "Deployment in ten. Order will be relayed to Omni-Tools."

"Well…" Pyrrha sighed as she retrieved her spear and ran a hand down her armored front. "There's that, then."

She sighed and turned, watching Vakarian check his Omni-Tool, nod, and wave for Solus and Jack to follow him around the corner. She watched them go, took a breath, and turned to attach the emergency kit to the back of her waist without another word. Beside her, Legion held out a Predator but she shook her head and waved him off - her spear would be enough, or she would have failed as a Huntress alongside all else.

She wasn't willing to give that up.

"We'll be fine." Grunt rumbled, clapping her on the shoulder, "Relax. You're the toughest bitch on this tub."

"Right…" She sighed, flicking a look as her Omni-Tool chimed and she raised it. "Come on, you two. We're up. Fifth to go in, apparently… But a hard spot."

"This is why they are sending us." Legion noted, "We are the most durable among the crew. If anyone will be able to break through-"

"It'll be us." Grunt nodded, smiling toothily as Pyrrha brushed past him. She heard him slam his fists against each other and rumble a laugh as he followed her towards the lif, barking, "This ought to be good, eh, Tin Man?"

"Ideally, yes." Legion answered, "The outcome will be favorable."

XxX-XxX-XxX

"Coming around now - I see a landing spot. Opening side doors." The Kodiak pilot barked over the line, sounding exhausted and tense in a dozen different ways. Most of which she understood - Dark Brother, the stress had to be enough to take years off, and he'd made several trips now - but some of which she could not help but wonder at the rumors she'd heard.

Outside, through the open door, she could see an uneven stretch of cancerous looking masses. Bulbous, but still. Dead, stretching out from straight lengths of metal that interspersed around them. Mucus and membranes and stretches of what looked something like yellow bone reached out from the metal and the growths to form supporting structures. And sometimes out into thin air, as if the base was meant to be expanding. Or, perhaps, that was how they moored their ships. Attaching them to the base like a single great organism recovering a piece of itself.

They settled down on one of the larger bulbous things with a gentle tremor that broke her concentration, or distraction as it were, and drew her back to the pilot's words.

"Pressure outside is good. Breathable. Collectors breathe the same air we all do, so should be safe, but keep an eye on your Omni-Tool. Scans show that pressure is consistent, so they must be doing it on purpose." He said, sounding like he was reading off a script. Which, to some extent, she was sure he was. "Find a breach point and- Contact!"

Suddenly, as they were stepping off, the Kodiak spun away, careful to keep from hitting them, and shot off. Two grey somethings shot after it while they lay against the horrible thing, hiding.

"Oculi strike craft." Legion reported, "Likely survivors of prior combat. Kodiak should be able to withdraw to assistance."

"Mmm." Pyrrha hummed, "Should…"

She had a strong dislike of that word right now, when her ride back out of this… Place rested upon it.

Standing in the quiet left behind was… Strange. The air on her hair and skin felt clammy and damp, but so cold. And they weren't standing on a 'flat' part. Instead, they were at an angle with the straighter metal walls and even the fleet fighting another Collector warship in the distance. Between them, empty space. Where it stopped being deadly vacuum and became at least bearable, she had no idea, and there was no way to tell. All she could assume, as everyone else had, was that the Reapers' mastery of Mass Effect was in play here.

Which was comforting…

"Battlemaster…?"

"Right." She nodded, shifting her spear to rifle-form and turning. "Legion, find an entrance."

"Already done." They answered, striding away without another word. They made their way up, or around, the hill to one of the lengths of metal plating. They planted charges in a wide-based triangle while they explained, "We detect a passage through here. It is wide, likely a main one for movement through the area."

"Grunt first." She nodded, "I'll follow. Legion, linger behind."

"Understood."

"Affirmative."

It only took a minute for the Geth to finish planting the charges and wave them back a step. A heartbeat passed - and they went off, dull whumpfs of rushing air, heat and smoke as the shaped charges blates apart metal and something that smelled like sugar. As the smoke cleared, her Krogan rushed through it and she followed.

Through the hole they stepped out into a wider tunnel than she'd expected, with space enough for a Kodiak to pass through. It was made of the same brownish greenish flesh as they'd stood on outside, with a floor covered in little grooves. For traction, she supposed. The uneven walls reached up to a dark ceiling, with ribs of metal - or bone, she supposed - with sore-like nodules dotted along the middle that cast the whole space in yellowish light.

But… No Collectors.

Not yet.

"Legion," she murmured, "direction?"

"This way." They said, stepping through and turning to the left. "We detect… A heat signature. A large one."

"Heat?" She frowned, "That's all?"

"Affirmative." They answered, "We are unable to identify signatures beyond a presence of Element Zero. However, much technology has some trace of it. Examination is advised. It could be worth reporting to Fleet-Commander Shepard."

"Fleet Commander, hm?"

"She is a Commander." Legion intoned lowly, "Of a Fleet."

"Fair…"

They made it ten feet before Pyrrha heard… Something, and grunted a quiet order to stop.

At the end of the path was a wide door ringed on all sides by chitinous, bony edging. The door itself was metal, though. Old and worn and heavy looking, with a rectangular viewport right in the center. As they made their careful way, the noise she'd heard got louder. A dull buzzing that echoed even through the heavy door as Pyrrha reached it, leaning against it to feel it with a hand.

"What…"

"They're a hive-like species." Grunt rumbled, resting his knuckles against the door and frowning. "Whatever they were, that's what they are now. My guess? Hive has defenders around whatever's through there. Waiting on us."

"Why not fight us out here…?"

"Because my guess is," Grunt frowned, "they want us coming through this here door. Eight or fifteen particle beams, all firing on one spot? That's enough to get any of us."

"Indeed…" She frowned, "Grunt, you will take point. I'll get the door open."

"And the particle beams…?"

"I have an idea." She smiled, "Trust me."

"Always, Battlemaster." Grunt rumbled a laugh, shuffling to the edge of the doorframe while Legion went to the other and backed away, their Widow ready to delete the first thing they saw. "Make your move, and we'll follow."

She could reach out to manipulate smaller things around her without his help, now, but… She still needed him to answer her call for anything large, or sturdy, both of which described the ancient bulkhead.

So, taking a deep, steadying breath, Pyrrha knelt and murmured, quietly enough she was sure even Legion would barely hear her, "Dark Lord… If you're with me, I need your power now."

A mere moment passed, like a heartbeat, before she felt that familiar rush flow through her. Even now, after all that time acclimating to how it felt until she didn't even feel it at all anymore when she flexed the power for smaller things, it still burned. Like ice cold fire. It rolled through her body, spreading with each heartbeat until she felt electricity in her fingertips and heat behind her eyes. It was enough to almost hurt, as ever, but she found more and more that she didn't hate it…

She enjoyed the cold fire.

The ancient metal groaned as she laid a hand on it, the entire roof and walls around it trembling as it fought to keep itself in place. Whatever it was didn't feel like steel, or any metal she'd ever touched or moved before, but nothing could hold up against her power for long. And she felt it come undone under her, metal and flesh screaming and crushing apart as it jerked in and bent at the middle, shattering the glass viewport as she twisted it in and punched it down into the ground a few feet into the room. Particle fire raked across it as she moved, but the heavy metal held against it, at least, and the cover it offered let her Krogan join her inside.

"Excellent." Grunt rumbled, pulling a grenade from his belt and bellowing, "Machine! How many?"

"Nine." They answered, "Arrayed on the other side of a low control console built under some manner of ignition system. There is little cover."

"You go left," Pyrrha grunted, "I go right?"

"A sound plan." He nodded, "I'll stun them."

"Good." She smiled, looking up into a ceiling that stretched high, high above them, vanishing into darkness around the system Legion had mentioned. Shaking her head, she said, "Legion will cover us and keep an eye up there. So… When you're ready."

"Hmmmm…. Now." He grunted, tossing the little shaped charge up and over the barrier she'd made for them.

It went off with a boom that made her ears ache just a bit, but which she ignored, rounding the corner and raising her rifle. Three shots put the closest Collector down as it stumbled towards her, fumbling with its fleshy looking rifle. As it fell, she sprinted towards the next, trading her rifle for her sword while a larger Collector that tried to fly up into the air split in two, Biotics flickering around it as Legion's anti-material rifle utterly ruined it.

While it fell she ducked under a line of particle fire that seared through the air over her, rolling to a stop as the Collector turned to bring the rifle down on her where she knelt. She buried Milo in its narrow stomach and turned, belting a fist across its face so hard it spun on the spot, dropping its rifle and chittering in a painful, shrill sort of way. Turning, she held a hand out to call her sword back through it, ripping it nearly in half and leaving it to collapse as she leapt for a third target. She buried her sword in its neck and bore it down under her weight as it spasmed and twitched…

And began to glow luminously.

"Back!" She called out, yanking Milo free and leaping away, "Before-"

A fist caught her in the stomach mid-air and cut her off, throwing her a couple yards away where she slammed into the fleshy wall, rolled along its curve, and came down on the metal flooring with a grunt.

"You have accomplished nothing, coming here." Harbinger rumbled, voice reverberating through the very air around her. And into her head, boring like a drill as its puppet turned, catching Grunt's fist and hurling him away with a Biotic blast. Just as distantly, it rumbled, "Weak. Ineffective."

An anti-material round slammed into its possessed flank and sent it staggering, but Harbinger did not fall. Instead it turned as Legion advanced, mechanically slamming a second Clip into place and firing into Harbinger's chest as it advanced to meet the Geth. The second round punched through it and out the other side, leaving a hole that trailed ash and smoke, but still the monster stood. And continued on, only a few steps from the Geth now, who abandoned their rifle in exchange for a blue pistol that whirred to life, spraying blueish rounds into the abomination as the machine backed away.

"This does not hurt me." Harbinger roared, lunging as Legion's pistol whined, overheated, and it was abandoned too. The first blow caught Legion on the shoulder and sent it back under the sheer, Biotic force of the possessed Collector's attack.

But Geth were fast and sturdy in their own right, and Legion answered with two lightning-quick punches that caught the possessed creature on the side of the head as Pyrrha rose. The blows hit like hammers, crushing ashen chitin and popping the eyes on that side of its head, leaving them to steam and leak the a shimmering sort of amber liquid. If Harbinger cared, it didn't show it, snapping out a punch so powerful it crushed one of Legion's shoulders in and sent the machine reeling while Harbinger followed, ruined fist punching into the weakened armor as the Geth tried to lash out with another swing, this one wild and wide, aiming for its ruined side of its head.

Harbinger caught it as Pyrrha charged, and turning, almost chuckling, "Metal or flesh, you are weak."

Legion slammed into her a heartbeat later, bowling her over. She scrambled to push them off while Legion chittered and stuttered a bleating side, and as she stood, Harbinger turned to face her fully, hurling Legion's arm into her chest so hard her chest throbbed even through her Aura.

"Foolish creatures." Harbinger murmured, watching Grunt circle around to help Legion stagger upright while Pyrrha set their arm down. "Do you yet not understand?"

"Understand what?" Pyrrha demanded, shifting her sword into a spear and waving Legion back. Geth or not, they were damaged enough she could see their main spinal segments inside their chest, and she didn't want to lose them.

"Inevitability." Harbinger answered, gesturing at her with a hand. "You. Your Krogan. Your machine. All of you, created, guided by us. Inevitable evolution. Inevitable creation. Inevitable mistakes of both, allowed to exist in our ways. By our hands."

"I'm fairly certain nothing you did is responsible for me." She argued, "Remnant is safe from you."

"For now." Harbinger agreed, "This is the last Harvest that this will be the case."

"What…?"

"We know now that the inevitability of our galaxy expands to all." Harbinger answered, gesturing around them as if to gesture at the whole of the galaxy itself - which, technically, she supposed it was. "This Harvest shall form more than new members of our armada. It shall form a new armada. One to be tasked to another galaxy. Another Cycle. Cycles will birth new Cycles, in new galaxies, until we reach the end of inevitability."

"You're insane…"

"No. But we are grateful." Harbinger answered, "Without you, we would have taken eons to reach this conclusion. For that, and the… Revelations of your origin here, you have our thanks. You will die as the only organic to have recieved it."

"Bold words," she muttered, ignoring the ice in her gut, "for someone losing their base."

"This place is… Immaterial. Insignificant." Harbinger answered dismissively, turning to the control console behind it. "Ancient, yes. But not original."

"What do you mean…?"

"He means that this isn't the first station like this." Grunt rumbled, stepping to her side, eye flicking between her and the smouldering Collector. "The Collectors… Aren't the first of their kind. Are they?"

"No." Harbinger answered, "They are the fourteenth. And you are the ninth cycle to reach this place, to destroy what was built here. A victory that matters little."

"You mean…" She blinked, shaking her head as the implications began to set it. If this wasn't the first base, and they weren't the first cycle to assault it… She turned, looking at the bent, ancient door, and eyed the symbols along its edge. Symbols she'd never seen before. "None of what we've done mattered at all…"

"No." Harbinger answered, turning to look up at the massive cylindrical thing stretching up above them, into the darkness. "It did not. After the third such base, we altered our approach. This control nexus is one of forty two. Each contributes to a grid of Mass Effect micro-relays, maintaining a gravity well and exudation node here. Protecting this place. The principles are the same as using our Relays, only… Reversed, exuding a hyper-dense gravity anomaly."

"Then how can we be in here?" Grunt asked, "A hyper-dense gravity field would crush us… And the Collectors."

"The intricacies are as relevant as you are. And they matter as little as you do." Harbinger answered, turning to them and beginning to dissolve. "You're all going to die here. On my station. And with it."

"No…" Pyrrha growled, backing away as dread began to truly eat at her. She didn't understand the science as well as Grunt did, that was true - but she knew enough to guess the posessed Collector meant as the blue screen of the console flickered amber and it reached out to press a button.

Grunt's shotgun barked, blowing the arm off, but Harbinger didn't even react, only rumbling, "Yes. You could say it's…"

"Your destiny." It rumbled, voice echoing around them as if the very station were speaking the words.

As the Collector collapsed, light finally leaving it, the entire station began to tremble around them. She turned, yanking her rebreather on and storming back out the door. More Collectors awaited them but she summoned the last of her Lord's power to drag the door from behind them around them, using it as a wall as they marched up the path, the Krogan carrying their Geth comrade along. They'd almost reached the breach-point when the section of station they were in suddenly sank and turned, flipping nearly upside down as gravity went wild, pulling her this way and then that, sending her spinning and slamming into walls.

She buried Milo in one and used it for an anchor, turning as Grunt roared, "Battlemaster!"

He was at the breach, one fist buried in the flesh of the wall as he turned, hurling Legion out in the now zero-gravity environment. Her Omni-Tool chimed as pressure began to vanish, oxygen dispersing out in a rush now as the gravity well faded and it sought to equalize. Her skin burned from the sudden drop in pressure, and her Aura flared, desperately fighting against it, the toxic, burning air, and a thousand other things as she leapt out the hole and turned, firing Milo twice to accelerate her away while Grunt followed, doing the same with his shotgun and grabbing Legion in a hand as they drifted.

Above and below her, sections of the station gave way with explosions and implosions, metal and flesh folding and ripping and exploding all at once. Kodiaks flitted around, and she could see people clambering inside as they tried to rescue landing teams. She saw two explode trying just that and turned, looking around and opening broad-comm to call help.

Instantly, screams of pain from the dead and dying screeched into her ear, nearly drowning out a cacophony of orders. Teams were called, and some answered. Coordinates were relayed, sometimes cut off by an explosion, and more called out that, like them, they'd leapt from the station and propelled themselves away. Others called for captains, begged and demanded help, before she heard screaming metal and fire and their signals died.

Still, she barked, "We're drifting and need pick up! M-My Aura is holding, but not forever, and Grunt doesn't have any protections!"

She turned as something bumped into her and watched the Krogan spinning, limp and unconscious with Legion twisting to grab him with their one remaining arm. They turn, stretching out a leg for her, and she grabbed it to pull them together.

"We need-"

"We see you, Strike-Seven. Nikos." A Salarian voice answered as a shadow passed over her. She turned, looking up at the sleek and smooth belly of a Salarian frigate, pockmarked by damage, as it turned and lowered beside her, opening a wide bay door on its flank. Three Salarians leapt out, linked to the ship by cables, and the voice went on, "You are being rescued. Please, do not resist for panic. Your Krogan will be sedated."

Skin on fire, she almost didn't have a voice to gasp, "Y-Yes, whatever you need- Thank you."

"Do not mention it." They answered as the Salarians reached them, one turning her and pulling her into his lap, arms around her midriff. "Simply protocol."

When she felt air and pressure, thank the Dark Lord, on her skin she couldn't help but collapse onto the deck. As the bay sealed and the Salarians began to run scans over her, she rolled her head over to look at Grunt. Quietly, she asked, "H-How is-"

"Krogan sturdy." One of the suited aliens cut her off, pulling a little syringe from a belt. "Sedating you. You are suffering depressurization sickness and radiation burns. Immediate extensive treatment required."

"Fine…"

The sedatives were like ice, true ice, in her veins… And darkness swept in around her. Not the comforting, warm kind she was used to, though. No, this time it was cold, and hard. And empty. And she found that she hated it desperately. At least, for the few seconds she could think much of anything at all.

XxX-XxX-XxX

Because really, why WOULD the Reapers care about the Collector Base? If they made one, they'd surely make more. So why bother? Why not, instead, simply accept the inevitable statistical likelihood they'd registered over the Cycles and use it as much as a lure as a base to gather intelligence while preparing for a Cycle? The best launch an assault, and you simply collapse the station, killing enough of them and sending the message-

Nothing anyone does matters.

The Reapers are coming. And, as far as they are concerned, every aspect of the Harvest is predetermined. Preplanned.

Which is, in my opinion, more terrifying than much else. Even winning a battle is seen by them as… Irrelevant, in a very real way.

Before anyone asks - yes, people died. A lot of people died. Some of them have names! Names you will care about. However, you shall find out when Pyrrha does. XD

XxX-XxX-XxX