The Reclamation

by Fade Maybe

Through ONI's manipulation, the UNSC stumbles upon a Mass Relay and is dragged into a new war. They'll discover the battered races of the Citadel, the political intrigue of its factions, and a second group of humans governed by the Systems Alliance, divided by Cerberus, and lead by Commander Shepard. Yet no one can stop what is to come: the Reclamation, and the death of the galaxy.

22. King and Pawn

Aboard Citadel Station, 2186 Citadel Calendar, 04:15

"So...you haven't read the briefings at all?"

"Only the fun bits that didn't bore me. They should really focus on making the whole thing more...entertaining," she said with the usual sarcasm, condescension, superiority, and disdain and general disgust towards anything that wasn't her. Her trademark powerful scowl and burning hatred in her eyes were also present.

"I'm sure Alliance Intelligence will make that their top priority."

"They better. If they want my ships." Aria T'Loak said. Also as usual, Shepard wasn't sure if she was being serious or not.

Aria was the first one to arrive since she still stationed herself aboard the Citadel, making sure the connections between this station and Omega were alive and healthy.

She wore the half-cut white jacket with red patterns and long sleeves. The purple Asari symbol for the letter 'O' stitched onto the back. High protective double layered collars. Black leather gloves that saw their share of blood. The strange skin-tight black plastic overall underlays with cut off sides that exposed a lot of purple skin. Plenty of metallic buckles along metallic black leggings that lead to elongated high-heel boots.

She walked past Shepard, stopped herself. She slowly reached her hand out and tugged at his collar. She observed the rest of his dress blues uniform, looked...everywhere. She looked back to meet his face. A sly and concerning smile.

Why did she have to act like that?

"Looks cute on you, soldierboy," She let go and continued to walk down the hallway. One foot stepping in front of another.

Sailor. Shepard wanted to say.

This morning was quite a busy one. He had to guide (and most of the time carry) Miranda back to the Normandy, careful to avoid people and cameras. He was finally able to force her into Doctor Chakwas care. From there, he had to momentarily refocus his attention from whatever Cerberus and Halo were to his current task.

Of course, he also changed into the naval dress blues. Similar to Admiral Hackett's with the polished shoes, dark navy blue pants, and Alliance blue blouse with gold outlinings and black side covers. Cuffs and shoulder pads displaying the bars of Commander. Three black bars and a single gold bar. Twin insignias of the silver oakleaf on his collar. The golden seal of the Systems Alliance over his right breast and accompanying ribbons, N7 medallion, and gold chain over his heart.

He even brought the accompanying naval cap. Black brim, dark blue base, and the seal of the Navy up front. An exact replica of the Alliance seal except with three silver stars defending a detailed, peaceful Earth.

Shepard turned down the hall. It led to the main briefing room where the strategic meeting would take place. He called out to Aria.

"Please...don't act this way around the UNSC," he wondered what would happen if she tried this to Lord Hood or Captain Lasky. What would they do? He'd imagined that the meeting would be...less smooth than the first contact/diplomatic meeting.

Aria turned around on one heel. Hand on her hip. "Like I said, Commander, I read the fun bits. I know when to keep my mouth shut. What not to say. I can respect how they play. It's a bit...alluring."

She turned back around and headed towards the briefing room. Shepard sighed, rubbed his face.

The rest of the leaders would be here any minute now. Shepard had to brief all of them, and make sure-

"SHEEEPAAARRRRRD," A deep and excited voice called out.

Oh boy.

Shepard looked up to find two faces he hadn't seen in a long while.

He hoped Liara was having fun.

…

Liara wondered how Shepard was doing, processing all the key military leaders from all the different races across the galaxy. He was only on the other side of the area, as Liara, Tali, and Captain Lasky made their way to a different room housed with a few advanced computers and CPUs. She could hear an echo of Shepard's name being called out.

Oh, Wrex.

"What is your specific interest in the Geth?" Tali asked. "And what does it have to do with the Master Chief?"

"You have to give us something, Captain." Liara added on, refocusing attention. They were nearing the door to the tech room. Only a few meters away.

Lasky took a deep breath. He took off his cap again. "You've probably observed that our AIs are different. They're designed differently."

"Yeah...It was pretty obvious." Tali said, "your AIs' personalities and mannerisms were very human-like. It seemed all-natural. Our AIs start out as cliched robotics who have to learn such traits. Unless you have an x times amount of programs that enables your AIs to have these behaviors…"

"Let's start with how your AIs are designed at least," Lasky deflected.

Tali sighed, trying to find where to start. "Well, an AI is just a self-aware, hyper advanced computer that can learn at the end of the day. We take millions to sometimes billions of files, each with different types of programs and functions, then group them together. There's a special quantum computing system called a 'Blue Box' that's required. It coordinates and connects all these files into a single personality. Without it, the AI would just be said mess of files."

Lasky didn't respond as they got closer to the door. It opened to reveal the inside.

Why did it have to be so hard? Liara couldn't help but internally sigh.

The room was a sprawl of holo-laptops surrounding a single heavy-duty standard holo-table similar to the one aboard the Normandy War Room. Two figures stood beside it. EDI, arms crossed, leaning on one leg, and on the opposite side was a being nearly twelve feet tall. His antennas nearly hit the ceiling.

Lasky was taken back. He seemed to step back, shocked. Liara couldn't tell, but he might've reached for his holstered pistol. "Jesus-"

"He's on our side, Captain," Tali interjected. She raised a hand, got in front of Lasky and separated him from the figure. His startled eyes seemed to realize what happened.

"Jesus. This is a Geth?!" Lasky exclaimed.

"Biological lifeform does not intend hostilities. No threat level," the figure said in a deep and threatening static and synthetic voice. It drowned out the noises of computers and vibrated metal. It twisted its head, observing every feature. "Identified: T'Soni, Liara, Doctor. Doctorate: xenoarchaeology, University of Serrice. Postgraduate: xenoanthropology, University of Serrice. Undergraduate: political science, art history, First College of Imeria."

"Art history…?" Lasky commented.

Strange times. Liara wanted to say.

The Geth continued. "Nar Rayya vas Normandy, Tali'Zorah. Fifth member of the Quarian Admiralty Board. Accredited machinist and eezo engineer. Creator…." It turned to Lasky "Unidentifiable lifeform…"

Liara spoke. "This is the person we told you about? Captain Lasky-"

"Lasky, Thomas J. Captain of United Nations Space Command Infinity." The figure reported. It then proceeded to introduce itself. "Geth tactical combat platform, class Prime. Platform designation one-five-five-seven-zero. Software designation zero-four-zero-three-three-eight-five. Modified to assist all technological and artificial intelligent operations. Modified to act as Geth strategic advisor. Reporting "

The Geth Prime slowly and awkwardly held out its hand to Captain Lasky. "According to Doctor T'Soni, this is how most known biological lifeforms greet one another.

"Shall we begin, Lasky Captain?"

…

Who wouldn't be shocked when they first see a Geth Prime? Standing at twelve feet, a humanoid built in the image of the Quarians. Didactyl feet, leading to extremely muscular legs and body. Heavy blackish-grey underlays formed in the shape of fiber muscles. They were made of chemically altered metals, forming synthetic tissues more powerful, reactive, and stronger than any of that of biological life. Dense, sharded metal plating across the synthetic tissue painted blood red with few bright white stripes and identification numbers. Red flare lights spread in patterns throughout various shielding areas. Menacing, and able to flash at high intensities to blind people at close range. Two large, ion antennas were attached to the back for long range communications with other Geth.

All of it was built around the core sensory processor for the software platform. The iconic, trademark snake-like head plated in the same metal while left uncovered at the underside of the neck. The flat, half circle face with metal flaps on the sides to protect from debris and shrapnel. The only facial features were three crimson eyes. One on top and two on the bottom. Bright and terrifying.

This was one of the few times Tali had met with a Geth in peace, other than...Legion.

She still needed time to get used to it.

"I apologize." Lasky said. Stepped forward, his hand was buried in the Geth's. "I didn't expect you to be taller than an Elite."

"Understood," the Geth reported. It continued to analyze Lasky. "We chose this specific combat model to demonstrate that unlike the majority of our allies, we will simply not bow down. We did that once. And we shall not do it again"

Keelah. What other purpose would they bring a Geth Prime for? When they docked their transport, it was filled with a whole squadron of Primes. Would they test the UNSC?

Captain Lasky only nodded, still remaining calm. "This won't cause any future problems, will it?"

"We merely want you to know that we will not be completely subjugated to every whim of the UNSC."

They're evolving faster than Tali thought.

"That I understand," Lasky replied.

She might not be the politician here, but she could start to tell this meeting wasn't exactly going to be easy…like everything else this crew does.

Lasky slowly walked over to another end of the holo-display. EDI nodded to Tali and she returned the same gesture. Another quick wave of dizziness. She slowly breathed, the condensation slightly built on her mask as it adjusted. She needed another round of antibiotics. She could feel an uncomfortable soreness building up.

"Roland," Lasky said into his comm. "Get the Engineer and the chassis on the next transport in. Have the Chief and Commander Palmer guide it to these coordinates. Get a direct link of yourself here too."

"Aye, Skipper." His voice reported, echoed in the room. "I'm working on two fronts, so give me a second."

Lasky acknowledged and closed the link. Tali and Liara took their sides on the display. The Geth Prime stood next to Tali. Its feet seemed to dent the metal underneath.

"Maybe we should discuss why you brought us here, Captain," Liara suggested. "You're still leaving us in the dark."

Lasky observed the vibrant colors of the holo-display. He was thinking. If Tali had to guess probably picking what to reveal and what should be kept quiet.

"We don't create AIs like a traditional computer, and we definitely don't use quantum computing or superpositions," Lasky finally said. He leaned on the table, hands on the small railing.

Then how were they able to store the vast amounts of data on a hard drive barely bigger than Tali's thumb? The only other way was that they created a system able to compress files on par with compressed matter in a black hole.

"We have been analyzing the information Creator Tali had sent us." The Geth systematically reported. "The usage of numerous, large amounts of self-replicating and self-altering files is impossible without the use of quantum computation. Thus we have come to the consensus that the only other option available is that your AI system utilizes a singular mega-program."

"...Consensus?" Lasky asked, confused.

Right… Maybe Tali should've explained how the Geth operated.

The Prime continued, "the Geth operates in a different function to regular AIs."

Lasky slowly nodded. "...Anyways, the reason why we've never created a traditional AI is because we've never reached that technological level. We found out early on that the vast amount of files required was impossible to program and keep together, and we had no types of storage systems to hold that amount of data. Even in the field of quantum computing, our expertise and ability is still limited."

...Really? They didn't have the tech to simply create an AI but were able to build colossal ships? When a species first develops an AI, it takes years to sometimes decades to create a computer program that is truly self-aware and able to learn. The process was made easier when all you had to have was a base system of the usual files. From there the blue box was able to create specific AIs based on how it's programmed. If the files weren't altered or specific ones weren't added or taken out, the growth and development of the personalities of AIs were entirely based on environmental factors.. Such as EDI being around Joker so much and why she developed such a...terrible, dry sense of humor.

"...So our consensus was partially correct, Lasky Captain." The Geth said.

"Yeah. And, uh...it's 'Captain Lasky,'" Lasky said.

The small metal flaps around its face moved, bending back and forth. That usually meant something didn't compute.

"Understood, Lasky Captain." It said.

Lasky sighed. He brought out a small data pad and opened it. It was a list of information. "Right… Give me a sec, I'm reading off a list Roland gave me to remember this stuff... Anyways, yes, you're correct. AIs are a single program that's naturally compressed. We do this by...scanning and uploading the processes, functions, and structure of a specific human brain, then transforming the data into the base foundation for our AIs."

At first, Tali didn't understand…. They photocopy a brain and essentially translate it into an AI? That process seemed more complex than simply building one from scratch. Despite the advanced computing systems of AI, the brain of a sentient biological lifeform still remained one of the most advanced processing systems known. It couldn't interpret and process problems as fast or capable as computers, but the extreme complexity of design had never been recreated. Excluding the Reapers…possibly. Who knew what they were fully capable of.

The only other thing that might compare soon was the Geth. They were now on the evolutionary track to achieve a mindset on par with natural life.

If one of the limits the UNSC had was storage, wouldn't digitally recreating a brain require a lot more storage and processing systems than a regular AI?

"That process presents outstanding inefficiencies," The Geth said for Tali.

"You're correct again." Lasky replied. "One inefficiency is the reason why we're here."

"Captain… There's only so much 'protocol' we can tolerate." Liara said after momentary silence. She was being forceful. "We need to know why we are here."

Lasky sighed. "Roland and the Engineer has the precise technical knowledge-"

"Then explain what you already know."

"Captain…" His comm piece ranged. Lasky picked up. "We're ETA: two minutes. Stand by."

Liara was a unique individual. More forceful and cunning than Shepard, she knew how to keep her bearings. How to maneuver the tedious and politically sensitive situations. And apparently how to categorize the history of art. In all seriousness though, she knew all the compromises and disappointments. In a way, she was actually a good balance for Shepard. They had good intentions. She had good intentions. At times she probably didn't want to believe it herself. For Shepard the conscious outweighed actions, and for Liara the actions outweighed the conscious. If Lasky knew any better, she was probably trying to fight the nagging self-loathing feelings. At least that's what he'd be doing if he were in her position.

"This is very shady, Captain." Tali said. "Do you want to help you fix some sort of defect in your AIs?"

"In a way." Lasky replied. Hurry up, Roland.

He turned away from the group towards the doors. Maybe another minute passed by.

Maybe emphasis on 'Estimated', Roland?

After another minute of uncomfortable, quiet stares, there was a metallic thud at the door. Lasky's comms activated again.

"We're here, sir." Roland reported.

Thank God. The doors opened. A blob of pink and blue biomatter gently and peacefully floated through. A blue head bobbed up and down, almost happy. It carried two things in its tentacles. A small communications holo-receiver and a green metallic case.

"...The Engineer," EDI said.

The Geth Prime, unphased, spoke. "Was this the biological entity you described that was able to communicate with you through computerized, mathematical dialect?"

EDI squinted her eyes, observing the little details. She might've noticed the aged scars across the body.

"This one is different." She said. "It's not the same one."

"Yeah." Lasky replied. "This guy got emotionally attached to what we're working on. Couldn't separate them. This one's name is Virgil."

Virgil quietly and happily hummed when his name was called. He gently floated forward, tentacles swaying back and forth. It approached the holo-table, slightly bumped into Tali. But it didn't care.

He set the case down on the table. It made a hard, empty clunk. The Engineer looked at the holo-receiver for an access point.

"It's okay, Virgil." Lasky said. "Just set it down for now. We can check for compatibility later."

You couldn't tell an Engineer to keep their hands off tech. They either won't listen to you, or simply float high in the air in spite and frustration. The best thing to do was to tell them to wait.

Virgil complied and set down the receiver. The receiver made a small beeping sound, then activated. A bright yellow light began to intermixed with the electronic blue.

"Sorry I'm late for the party." Roland reported as soon as he materialized. "And sorry if I seem out of it. I'm working on a few fronts."

No one said anything. "Did I miss something?" Roland uncomfortably added.

"Everyone's just anxious." Lasky said. He turned to the rest of the room. "But thank you for waiting."

"So what is this really about, Captain?" Tali asked.

"I'm detecting an enormous amount of data storage within that object," The Geth Prime reported. His light eyes switched to the Engineer. "Bioluminescence. Natural carbonic electrical transfer. Low level of bioelectricity. No defiant nervous system detected."

"...Or just a storage unit and a biological conduit." EDI clarified. "But I'm also reading a small, non lethal amount of beta radiative decay emitting from the container unit."

Lasky motioned to Roland. He took a deep breath. "What'd you explain, Skipper?"

"The very basics. I haven't gotten to the major issue yet."

"'Course…" Roland began. "Well, there's a lot of problems with AIs. Our AIs. But there's one specific one that's always a...headache to say the least for people like me.

"Legally we're only allowed to use the brains of recently deceased donors. This is because when we scan the host's brain and build a digitized AI foundation, the brain deteriorates. In the process, we have to erase a lot of the host's brain functions in order to translate to computerized models. A lot of neural pathways have to be shut out, original size decreased. It streamlines certain processes and makes the AI more efficient, but in no way is it comparable to the original Human brain."

Tali spoke. "And I assume you keep the original personality of the host?"

"Yes…" Lasky answered. "Mostly, we keep it for our sakes. Psychologically, it makes it a lot easier for us to work with them."

"Yeah. They don't bother to make us like Hal or Skynet," Roland bounced off. He took a moment to think. A bit unusual for an AI. Hands on hips, looked down for a moment then back up. "But translating the host's brain…often creates an extreme issue. With limited memory space, we have to cut out brain matter... As the AI grows and is influenced by more environmental factors, neural pathways become more interconnected. Like the human brain, AIs make tens of thousands of connections per day. Dozens per second. Without the higher processes of biological brain functions to manage and make sense of it, over long periods of time they're forced to reorganize it into endless feedback loops. Feedback loops they rely on to process information. Like how to react to certain situations. If a person says something, it registers with a certain loop, and the AI responds according to that loop.

"However, these loops begin to overflow memory storage. An AI needs to begin to manage their limited space. They cut off and erase some of these connections by the thousands which affects the AI on a tremendous scale. Their processing functions are greatly reduced, and causes an extreme decrease in proper judgement, decision making, and memory. They get confused, and more improper neural connections are created in that confusion. Ones that don't provide that needed functional foundation. The more confused, they delete more connections trying to save themself… A positive feedback loop begins... It's an ugly process."

Roland was quiet. A sad smile. He was talking about the inevitable. What happened to all UNSC AIs. A grim certainty.

He felt sympathetic towards the little guy. Even with the fourth generation predicted to live about thirty to forty years, it was still...brutal, Lasky guessed. Everyone is going to die, yeah. But at least Humans died in different ways. Lasky could die if the Infinity took a precise hit, if he got shot in the field, or on his deathbed. Roland? He only had two ways. Rampancy, or the UNSC erasing him to prevent him from falling to the wrong side or Rampancy from growing.

There was no choice.

"If this were biological life, it would sound like you're almost describing self-induced Alzheimer's, eventually leading to dementia," Liara said. Now she seemed to soften at Roland's depressed face.

"Well, like all life, including me, EDI , and the big guy over there, at the end of the day, our main goal is survival at all costs," Roland responded. "You leave the AI with a choice between living a few more days to weeks, months, maybe even years, or to continue to build more neural connection, have an overload, and die. We call it Rampancy"

"Each AI class are divided into generations," Lasky explained before people could start asking questions. "Roland is a fourth-generation AI. Brand new class. He's...estimated to live thirty to forty years. The last generation? Only seven years. It's why we're here. We need you to help us repair a third-generation AI that went through Rampancy, and only small fragments of her data structure survived. This AI is important not only to the UNSC, but to the Master Chief."

Aboard Citadel Station

Sixty-three light years from Draco III

2557 Military Calendar, 04:42

For a moment maybe, a brief feeling of respite came to the Master Chief aboard that Pelican ride to the Citadel. He wasn't sure why, but sitting in the cargo room was reminiscent of all those missions five years ago and beyond. As it rocked and vibrated, trying to reach an LZ. Only focused on the mission

For a moment, for whatever reason, it made him forget everything that had happen. A brief moment of safety where he didn't need to think beyond what was happening.

Now, on guard duty, as they guided in technical experts that had less and less to do with politics, all the Master Chief could do was continue to think while he watched a barren curved hallway.

Just watched.

Before they closed the doors he noticed they were talking, focusing more and more on AI and less on politics. He had no idea what they were doing in there, but he knew Lasky was lying to him.

Commander Palmer might've said something, might've tried to strike conversation numerous times in the past half-hour, but the Master Chief couldn't hear her. Her voice was nothing but muffled and unimportant noises.

After a while maybe she stopped. Maybe she didn't. The Chief continued to stare straight ahead. At small blue hallway guide lights. Dark enigmatic purple shrouds above. At nothing moving.

How many people have you've lost over the years? A voice said. It was as if it were inside his helmet, directly spoke into his ears. Sam? James? Kurt? Jacob? Miranda? Johnson? ...So many more.

He tried to turn off auditory sensors but in the process accidentally turned off the clock.

He didn't turn it back on.

Who knew how long it had been.

He remained motionless. Couldn't feel his MJOLNIR armor anymore. The outer room didn't even feel real. Everything felt...non-lucid. A murky glass wall separated any sense and the real world. If he tried to break it, reach a hand out, it seemed to just consume him. Swallow him into an abyss.

Maybe another hour passed. Maybe more.

Hours seemed to turn into minutes.

Were they actually close to you?

You understand why they were killed? Why I was killed?

Something broke the murkiness. A small flickering of blue holographic light blinked into existence, stutteringly traveled down the main hall. Breaking in and out of sight.

He recognized it. The flashing light… It was for him. It called to him.

A shaky step forward, as if the MJOLNIR armor, an essential extension of himself, for once weighed him down. It became taxing and cumbersome. It constricted his chest. The filtration system in his armor seemed to turn on and off briefly at certain intervals. The metal gear clunked together, restricting movement.

He hurried down as best he could, following wherever it was leading to. He was holding the rifle in one hand now, barrel scraping against the floor. The light reached the end of the hallway and turned a corner to enter the massive cathedral that connected all the rooms.

The endless lights above started to blur into one entity. He may have saw these strange panels that looked like they were made of glass floating above. As he zoomed in on the HUD, he saw they were made of strange bits of computerized data.

The flickering light walked along this spire off to the side of the room, traveled through the plants and other greenery stationed at the base. She ran a hand along the wall.

She moved down a flight of steps. He still followed.

It was because of them.

Yet you're still here. They still have you.

What do you think will happen?

He still followed, carefully down the steps. He felt exhausted. His heart forcing every beat. The rushing blood clouding his hearing.

You're not them.

Not Human.

They know that. They don't see you as one of them.

He had to balance himself. His armor wanted to tip him forward.

You're just like me.

Once the game is over, the King and the pawn go back in the same box.

The light flickered out of existence, completely disappeared. It was gone.

No. No. Where did it go?

She wasn't there.

Instinctively, he raised his rifle. Aimed down the scope, trying to find it again. It was shaky in his hands. He didn't know why. He couldn't control it. Couldn't stop it. The barrel won't aim straight.

"...Uh, Master Chief? I didn't catch your actual name. Is everything alright?" A muffled voice asked.

The Chief took a deep breath. The armor decompressed. He turned to his right, saw a familiar face. It was a mix of concern… Something else. He was eyeing the rifle as it was aimed at nothing but a wall.

The Chief cautiously and slowly lowered his weapon. Head turned to him. He still had his eyes on the rifle.

"...I thought I saw someone trying to scout out the place. I followed them and lost them here." The Chief said to Commander Shepard.

Shepard didn't say anything. A small nod. He looked up the stairs then back to the Chief.

"...You're sure?" Shepard questioned him.

"Aye, sir." The Master Chief simply said. He cut off from there. Shepard nodded, hands on hips.

"Who was it…?"

Another person appeared at the top of the stairs. She slowly stepped down. Rifle lowered.

"Chief? You're hard to follow," Commander Palmer said as she walked forward. "You're vitals went KIA for a minute. I tried calling you back there. Everything okay?"

"Old gear. It's been known to happen." The Chief forced out. "As I told Commander Shepard, I thought I saw someone suspicious. They got away."

Palmer also didn't say anything. She slowly turned from him and headed back upstairs to their guard area. The Chief followed, looked back to Shepard, noticed he was in a dress uniform.

"I don't know who it was." The Chief answered.

Shepard reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder. The Chief stopped. Shepard spoke quietly. "Look, I don't know what's going on but you were looking around pretty frantically. Like you were terrified of something. You were breathing heavily… You didn't seem alright."

The Chief shrugged off his hand and continued to walk up the stairs. He thought it might be best to at least say something though.

"It's John...by the way." The Chief didn't look back.

…

A tentacle took a handle on each end of the case. It slowly twisted them in opposite directions, and gently pulled it open. Metal brackets slide out, surrounding a steel metal tube. A small chip floating in the center. A perfect circle in the middle of it filled with a layer of transparent holographic blue light.

A delicate, precious little thing. This tiny chip went through nearly five years of hell on Reach, Earth, the Ark, Requiem… to here. Containing zettabytes of operational data stored in partial matrixes, this was only a fraction of what she once was. Random, uncoordinated and disoriented bits of data. In a way, she was dead, and whatever was left could be interpreted as a mere ghost, or the remains of a decaying corpse.

Lasky gently, and admittedly nervously reached both his hands out. The air around the tube was freezing. He grasped the delicate item with both hands, took it out of the tube.

There was a angry humming noise. Lasky looked up to find the Engineer gently push him, tentacles reaching for his hands to try and get the chip.

"Hey, alright!" Lasky exclaimed. He carefully opened his hands. Virgil's tentacles swarmed in and caressed the chip. He brought it close to his body, protecting it, protecting her from the outer world.

"Like a mother to her child." Liara observed. She crossed her arms, stepped a bit closer to see. Virgil turned away from her.

"Emotional attachment." EDI said. "An actual symbiotic understanding, on a metaphysical level in a sense, between artificial and biological sentient intelligence. The only closest thing before would've been Shepard entering the Geth Consensus, but…"

Consensus. There was that word again

"But as designation Enhanced Defense Intelligence has described, this entity was able to… "speak" to her." The Geth Prime explained. Lasky had to turn his neck at a ninety degree angle to look at his terrifying face…'eyes'. "There is difficulty to explain to people other than artificial intelligence."

"Well, I'll try." Roland said. His hands were behind his back. He was more quiet, eyeing the data chip. "AI communicate in the stereotypical 'zeroes' and 'ones' computing bits. At least, UNSC AIs do. For quantum computing based Artificial Intelligence you guys would obviously use an infinite based superpositioning qubit system, but whatever system we're using, when we communicate, it's our own language. We develop thoughts, ideas, and concepts biological lifeforms can't understand. It's our world in a way. Our perception is...vastly different. We don't see, or hear noises, or taste or smell. We just process data. To have a biological lifeform talk to us…To help us understand how it feels to be… I don't know, 'human'. It's…"

"An eye opener." EDI finished off for him. "The dialogue of traditional binary digit analogues of UNSC AIs and the superposition qubit system of quantum computing base Citadel and Terminus AIs obviously differ. But the Engineers can get past this barrier. As they analyze us and fully comprehend our system, in a human sense, they come to fully understand us. They understand how we feel. How we process and deal with the things around us."

"They're designed to fully adapt to any technical system. They make no differentiation between AI and biological lifeforms. They get attached." Lasky ended, before the conversation got off topic he looked to Tali and Liara. "'Emotional attachment' though is more common than you think."

The Captain motioned to the Engineer hugging the chip. Lasky stepped back from the table, hands on hip. "This Third Generation AI, this one we're trying to repair, her name was...is Cortana. She began to experience extreme levels of Rampancy."

"She took a more unusual route trying to save herself, though it's been recorded with other AIs before." Roland explained. "As her mind began to decay, she began to subdivide her systems and processing power. One section would handle certain processing loops, another handled basic functions such as emotions…"

"Emotions…?" Tali asked, perplexed.

"...another section would handle complex algorithms. To the AI, they always fool themselves into believing this method stalls Rampancy. In fact, it makes the process increase speed at an exponential rate. The matrixing computing system UNSC AI are built on isn't made to handle something like this. The section she divided to coordinate all the other sections isn't able to. Processing systems were extremely elongated and slowed down to a dead halt. She wasn't able to think fast or clearly. She had to build completely new algorithmic functions and loops to support each new section. Some sections had to be completely cut off, or out right deleted so she can focus on others… Her personality, in a human perspective, she'd have been showing all the symptoms of depression, anxiety, panic attacks, bipolar disorder, and extreme schizophrenia."

"Self-induced lobotomy. In essence she was reorganizing her brain." Liara said.

"It seems in building these new support systems she was also utilizing more memory storage, which I assume would the cause for an increase at the rate she was deleting data." Tali said. Roland nodded. "But it sounds like instead of erasing random segments of memory and functionality, she was prioritizing it. Which ones to let go of first, and which ones to hold on to."

"Yeah…" Roland merely said. He was pushing his way through, but the little guy was taking a beating. This was hard for him.

Lasky looked at the little holo-screen Roland uploaded all the info on. He read it off for the him. "She made a last ditch effort though. She split her functionality sections across numerous computer data systems, segregating them to hopefully slow Rampancy down. However, most of these data systems were destroyed."

He nodded to Roland as he looked down. The AI sighed, hands in his pocket.

"How were these systems destroyed?" Tali asked, hesitant.

"That's classified. All you need to know is that they were destroyed, and retrieving any data from them is physically impossible." Lasky answered. Curt and serious. "We already retrieved what we could, but…"

"If the way you create Artificial Intelligence is true, it is impossible to fill in any missing data without the usage of another brain donor." The Geth Prime reported. It sat there a moment, the metal flaps moving up and down.

"You are utilizing our expertise to try and rebuild a damaged, partially unrecoverable AI?" EDI added. "Data that's lost forever"

"But we still have the base core programs." Roland retorted. "Functionality, such as processing systems and such can be easily replaced while keeping the original personality."

"But why? Why go through all this" Liara reiterated. "How does this connect to the Master Chief?"

Lasky sighed. He looked to Roland.

"The Master Chief is a Spartan." Roland said. "Special Forces role. The work he does? He needs intel and situational updates constantly. This AI? Not only did it fill that role, but it increased his situational awareness, reaction time, combat capabilities, so on. Without Cortana, the Chief is not fully combat effective. Still good, but not as good as before."

"So then why this specific one? Why not use…" She blinked. Her face turned to Captain Lasky. She took a deep breath. "He became emotionally attached…"

Aboard Citadel Station, Zakara Ward, 06:14

He could sense through the tensions of excitement and nervous fear and hope that something was amiss. Though for people like him, there was always something amiss. So really, nothing had changed.

In ways.

He walked through the crowds, silently, unnoticed, gently nudging people aside to get through. They didn't even turn around to see who it was, and if they did he was already long gone, in another part of the crowd, like water flowing through rocks.

He could hear the conversation of each individual and the excited cheers and screams as he passed through. He got near the front, still making sure to stay behind a few people. Police pushed the crowd back at about a distance of a few meters.

His contacts throughout the galaxy had been rather quiet lately. Even with the major catastrophe of the Reaper War, they still talked. Now though, as this second branch of Humanity, this 'UNSC' came into the picture, the intel stopped.

They were waiting to see what the UNSC would do. Not even the Reapers barged in as fast as the UNSC did. No one was prepared. Even a decent portion if his contacts knew the Reaper War was going to start soon, turned themselves into harden targets or went off the grid. But now, nothing forewarned this. There was too many unknowns.

He watched a single squad of twelve men pass by. Four of them were taller than the average human, heavily armored. The other eight soldiers were in black armor, bulky and constricting. They strolled along cautiously, watching the crowd, the Citadel Security Police, the cars traveling above with traffic routes separated by heavy-duty blue glass panels.

The attitude of the UNSC soldiers were mixed. Some were on ready to be set off only by the smallest off detail, while others were far too relaxed. Shoulders lowered, a calm slow breathing. They could be easily taken out if need be.

They passed by, made way for another group that was about to come through. He made his way to the entrance, leading to a UNSC controlled section of the station.

The crowds began to thin out near the door, making it hard to maneuver. He moved away from the next round of UNSC troops.

No clear way to get in without being detected. He looked above, small walkways, lightly guarded only by a few of those black armored guards.

He exited the crowds. Reached a service door at the end of a barren alley right at the back of the area. He easily hacked it and entered, quickly found stairs that lead above. The small red service lights left sufficient shadows to creep up onto the walkways.

The walkway connected to a set of custodial service doors that also seemed to lead to UNSC controlled territory. Obviously, those doors will also be guarded, but maybe he could find another access point.

There were only two soldiers on duty, and like some of their comrades down below, they were too relaxed. Easy to sneak past. Stick to the shadows. The sounds of footsteps covered by the noise of the crowds. When he made it to the end door of the walkway, he saw a barely visible air duct right above. He grabbed onto the metal grating. With his Omni-tool he slowly removed the restraints and entered, made sure to place the gate properly back.

It was large enough to barely crouch in. A few months ago he would've glided down these ducts with ease, but now, as the disease slowly decayed his lungs, it took a lot out of him.

Every breathe scratching against the airways. He had to hold back the wet coughs, each one felt like a knife was piercing his throat. He took it slow, made an effort not to make the slightest sound.

He reached another gate panel when he noticed something. About two feet away from the panel, small little beads were at each corner where the floor met the walls.

Sensors. They didn't bother to make them slightly concealed. Arrogant aren't they?

If they were dark energy based technology he had numerous programs and techniques he could use to bypass them, yet with unknown tech like this he'd have to sneak around. He hadn't developed any strategy to deal with this kind of situation.

"They're laser based." A quiet voice whispered. "Unlike most cloaking devices, mine allows light to pass through instead of absorbing or reflecting it. Lucky me I guess."

Squares of blue and black light materialized about a foot away from the sensors. Flashing on and off, they quickly traveled down a petite and frail-like body. Skin tight grey suit with a thin layer of mylar foil to block out thermal detection. Black shaded leggings and armored plates. A black hood with small white line patterns shadowing a round, Japanese face. A marking of deep purple makeup tattooing the upper chin, traveling up the center of her lower lip. Reflective pure black eyes always with a center of white light no matter how dark it was were looking at him

"Good to see you, Thane." Kasumi Goto added.

One of the best thieves in the galaxy here. It seemed the UNSC attracted all sorts of various people. From the gathering of all military leaders (away from public eyes might he add), to the lower, seedier types.

There was a set of footsteps coming from under them in the room below. He could hear the muffled voices of men talking.

"When the hell do we get our R and R leave, Dutch?"

"Soon I heard. Sometime between twelve and fourteen-hundred. Have to sit through a safety brief beforehand though."

"Fuckin' ay'. About what?"

"Beats me. 'Apparently some of the booze ain't meant for Humans, like liquify ya insides not meant for Humans. Uh, how to behave around the public. Wear a condom so we don't have some damn, god forsaken alien hybrid."

"Why would we sleep with an alien…?"

"Don't ask me, I just heard it from the Lance Corporal Underground."

The conversation dove into some nonsensical myths about Asari. Kasumi cloaked herself again, and Thane stepped back. They traveled a few feet down until they were safe. Kasumi uncloaked herself.

"So what are you here for then?" Thane asked. A rasby and croaked voice.

"Our friend, the Shadow Broker, whom we have absolutely no idea who he is," Kasumi rolled her eyes, "recently posted bounties on any UNSC tech. Thought I can make a quick credit. Maybe keep some cool finds for myself. All while helping the war effort."

"This isn't exactly pickpocketing a business tycoon walking down the street or robbing a bank." Thane advised. Kasumi rolled her eyes one more time for good measure

"So what're you here for then?" Kasumi asked.

"Something is greatly wrong." Thane replied. "Shepard may have guided the UNSC here, but under certain terms that are unagreeable."

"Which are…?"

"I received a message from the Hanar government a few hours ago. They forwarded me a briefing report compiled by the Normandy crew on everything they know about the new contacts. Some of it has stirred needed cause for investigation, but most of the galaxy is too afraid."

Kasumi nodded. A unusual grim look spread across her face. "I heard leaks and rumors. ONI was it…? All the secrecy. So what? You're hoping you'll be the outsider?"

Thane nodded. Yes. She was correct. He needed to investigate. If he was caught he'd have absolutely no connection to the Systems Alliance or the rest of the Citadel. There was guarantee of complete plausible deniability on both ends. If he failed it was just a lone individual acting on his own accord. If he was successful, then he'll be able to provide highly valuable intel to the Citadel, and help the war effort as a whole.

To himself this was a massive risk, and there were only two vulnerabilities to this plan. One, the UNSC might be able to trace that Thane once worked with Commander Shepard. But he was able to completely deny any relationship under any circumstance. Torture, manipulation. Those kind of processes were merely a blur at this point. The threat of death? He was ready to die, ready for a long time now.

He was just unsure what Commander Shepard or the rest of the crew might do in the face of such a possibility.

The other vulnerability was guilt by association. Even if he were acting on his own, the UNSC might blame the Citadel as a whole merely because they were alien. They had the power to accuse and try on suspicion alone. The UNSC didn't have the handicap of political pressures and circumstances unlike the rest of the Citadel governments.

Yet in the face of all this, there was something the Hanar government suspected that was more disturbing than anything else. That overrided all the risks.

There were suspicions the UNSC was working with Cerberus. As the UNSC entered the system, there were Illium tracer signals that picked up a lot of Cerberus activity. That was to be expected, but…

The Systems Alliance tried to suppress that information. The only way it reached the ears of the Hanar government was through a patriotic Hanar thermal imaging technician that was working on such detection systems on Illium. He managed to sneak by the Systems Alliance combing, and get a comm that made its way through the ranks.

Suspicion was the key word here. The Hanar government told no one because they didn't want to arouse panic and fear until they were sure. It was why the government asked him to investigate. It was why Thane didn't seek the approval of the Systems Alliance and the Citadel. But despite the trust in his government the first person he was going to deliver whatever intel he could find was to Commander Shepard.

He was the only one who knew what to do.

"Do you have a spare clocking device?" Thane asked.

"I might. For a price." Kasumi said.

"Don't think too highly of yourself." He responded. "Try not to overfill your pockets."

The grim face disappeared and Kasumi playfully nodded.

…

They entered into the lush and rather pretty area known as the Presidium. An artificial sun, wherever the source was, was beginning to rise signaling the early morning, part of the area covered by the shadow of the Presidium walls while the other part was bathed in sunlight. Dubbo turned off his helmet filters for a brief moment, let the air of the outer station fill in. It felt fresh. No hint of recycling, or staleness, Pure, fresh, clean air.

Dubbo couldn't help but stop and look around. Christ, mate. Felt just like a planet. If you ignored the curved surface shaped into a ring. Huh, If you removed the roof above, Jaysus, might just feel like being on Halo again.

He continued to calmly stroll along with his chalk of ODSTs and Spartans, following a schematic map of the station. They were to rendezvous with Romeo's chalk soon, then meet up with Buck to set up the bulk of the defenses for the diplomats to arrive.

The crowds kept their distances. Cameras followed them around recording their every move. Reporters continued to try and pry them for answers Oui. Reminds him back home, after the War, everyone wanted have their piece of the heroes known as UNSCDF servicemen.

The detachment walked down a flight of steps, and entered into a choke hold walkway, cutting off most of the crowds and reporters from entering. The walkway was surrounded by high class restaurant areas with groupings of surrounding tables and bars. A few workers were beginning to open up for the day. The Spartans kept alert, looking above for any suspicious activity, watched each individual restaurant worker. What was the point, though? They seemed to be in the less shady looking side of the station, and Dubbo doubt one of these Xeno mates would come at them with a knife any time soon.

"I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite restaurant on the Citadel." Some voice said.

It sounded like a recording. Dubbo turned and saw a bar. There was also a... What were those buggers called? Turians? A Turian wiping down the counter. Dubbo subtly walked over. The rest of his chalk didn't notice.

"Oui, mate, what was that?" Dubbo said.

The Turian looked around, wondering if this Marine was really talking to him. If there was really a Human face under the blue visor. He spoke in a scratchy and loud voice. "That? Oh… uh, it's a recording from Commander Shepard! First human Spectre. He ate here once a few months ago. Got a discount if we recorded his voice. Helped boost our customer base."

A thought entered into Dubbo's head. "So what exactly ya serve here?"

"Well, uh, we're just opening up. We don't start serving food till seven a.m., and we don't serve drinks till after seven p.m.. But I can have the chef cook you something up."

Dubbo nodded. "So, uh, heh, discounts to servicemen, rioght? Take UNSC creds?"

"We don't, but it's on the house actually. You guys saved a lot of people. I had a cousin stationed on Illium. Thanks to you he's coming back home."

Just like Dubbo figured. When the welcoming heroes came, God forbid they use their own money. Good to know. He wondered if he could pull that on other places, get a bunch of free food, drinks, and souvenirs. Wouldn't mind signing autographs or taking pictures, or going out with a owner's daughter to do that.

"Friendlies coming up on our twelve!" A Spartan yelled unnecessarily loud.

Dubbo looked away for a brief moment. At the end of the choke point restaurant area was clear glass doors. They opened, and more ODSTs came through. They meet up with his own chalk and grouped up.

One of them walked over to Dubbo. Butter bars on his collar. Custom painted armor. Light blue chestplate and stripped shoulder pads. He carried a sniper rifle. How the hell was that gonna work close quarters?

"Lieutenant Dubbo?" Romeo said in a mocking and terrible Australian accent, bucket still snapped in. "How ya doing thar, mate?"

"...Romeo. Been awhile since we talked. Draco III, rioght?" Dubbo replied. Romeo slung the rifle over his shoulder, hands on hip.

"Ah, yeah, don't remind me." He scoffed, returned to his normal accent. "Fucking nightmare."

Dubbo nodded. They didn't say anymore on Draco. Dubbo was stationed in the back during most of it, but everytime he talked to the grunts on the front of that fucked op they always said it was shit.

"They serving drinks?" Romeo pointed to the Turian.

The sun quickly rose, and a orange natural light shadowed most of the Presidium Ward now.

"Not till seven…. PM!" The Turian said.

"Well, you can make an exception, can't you?"

"Uh, wait a tick, mate." Dubbo placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered. "We're on duty."

"All the more reason to drink." He replied out loud. "Come on. We'll trade you weapons for drinks.

"Spirits..." The Turian looked around, made sure no one else was working. "Just fine. One on the house. But try to keep this on the low, right? What'll take?"

Aw, Jaysus. Dubbo shook his head. You know, it made sense why the UNSC wanted to get as many NCO and junior veterans promoted up to the officer corps, but the problem was at heart they still acted like enlisted men.

But on the other hand, why the hell was he complaining? NCOs did most of the work anyways. Dubbo most of the time found himself doing pretty much nothing. What else is there to do but drink?

"You guys serve up Corona?" Romeo asked

"Like the crown of the sun…?" The Turian asked, obviously confused as those mandible things moved up and down.

"Beer…?"

"What's a beer?"

Romeo was silent for a moment. He looked to Dubbo, who shrugged.

"Alright…" Romeo said. "What do you got?"

"Uh...let's see… We got Serrice Ice Brandy, Batarian Ale, Bina…" The Turian trailed off when he found Romeo tilt his head, staring at him through the visor.

"Jesus… Right, just, whatever will get me shit faced fastest, a'ight?" He said.

Well, there was no point in trying to stop him. Eh, most of the E-3s and below and a few 4s get off at o-thirteen-hundred to Buck's stupid safety brief, then off to the fun world of the 'nightlife' even though it was barely past twelve-hundredths. Sergeants and above don't getta break though. Beat they'll be happy with that, and surely won't NJP the hell out of some poor terminal lance out of pure frustration. As for the officers… Their schedules varied. Dubbo had the first Officer On Deck shift for a specific section of the Presidium, o-two-hundred to o-four-hundred, after that it was Dutch, Mickey, Lucciano, then Romeo. More than likely, as time went one, the OOD would probably be more and more pissed drunk.

Another disaster waiting to happen.

The Turian finished mixing Romeo's drink. Slid it down the counter. Shot glass. What was in it was this weird gushing green liquid that didn't look a tad right. The Turian said it was a 'Krogan' mixed drink and something about how he'll guarantee it'll knock you on your ass in a few minutes and destroy your liver. Dubbo wasn't mostly paying attention. He watched Romeo unsnap his bucket (against regulations), pick up the drink, and quickly chugged it down without hesitation.

He immediately winced, slammed a hand down on the table and coughed. He tried to speak while white-knuckling through the pain. "Fuck, that shit burns good… Real good. Fuck, Mickey'll like this shit."

Dubbo smiled. Took a step back and looked around. He noticed something very important.

"Hey, mate, where da hell's our chalk?"

Their detachment was gone. So were the crowds and the reporters. The choke point was desolate.

They left the officers behind? Did they even notice they were gone? ...Well, to be fair, they were just officers. Their chalks would probably function better without them.

Oh, boy, where did they go?

"Mate, we should probably find…" Dubbo turned back. Romeo was sitting on a bar stool, slumped over on the counter. Sniper rifle on the floor. He was breathing slowly, sleeping. The Turian ignored him, continued to prep for the rest of the day.

"Told ya'." The Turian said as he washed up glasses.

Dubbo laid a hand on Romeo. He didn't respond. He tugged at his uniform. Didn't move. He mumbled something Dubbo couldn't understand.

"Oh, Jaysus." Dubbo said.

…

It was a very strange and busy morning. All the military leaders finally arrived, and Shepard made sure they made it to the main briefing room. It was more burdensome than it seemed, but he was able to get it done in a timely fashion.

Even with the Master Chief barging in and claiming to be looking for someone. Shepard knew he was trying to hide something. It seemed whenever Shepard interacted with the Chief he was always trying to hide something. Shepard wasn't sure what was exactly wrong with him, but it was growing more and more concerning.

He rubbed his temples. Another thing to add to the list. He entered into a small sub-room with a large holo-display. There was a small ringing sound, a bright light blinking on and off. It's connection was streamed from the Normandy's QEC

Shepard took a deep breath. He pressed the button. Two holographic figures appeared. One on each side of the materials holo-display. Shepard saluted both of them.

"At ease." Admiral Hackett said. "Sorry we didn't get a debrief on Illium, but I'm sure you understand, Commander."

Shepard nodded. He stood at ease. "Everything's prepped on my end, sir. All necessary military personnel made it safely. We've organized as many briefs and intel reports as we deemed necessary.

"You received the data from Operative Lawson?"

Hackett stroked his goatee. He sighed. "EDI organized the rest of the data you haven't looked at yet. Our analysts are going over it now. Most it is...vague. From what the eggheads could tell us, as Miranda was downloading the data at the exact time Cerberus VIs were scrubbing the important parts. That's why a lot of files are incomplete, inaccessible, or don't outright make sense. But...while most of the information is deeply concerning and worrisome, it doesn't provide anything we can properly use against Cerberus."

But there was something big going on, very big, and Cerberus knew what it was. Worse, they had no idea what it was. What the hell the Long Night of Solstice or Halo was?

"Do you think it's worth bringing up the UNSC?" Shepard made sure to look away from the other figure, a bit ashamed.

Hackett looked off into the distance, thinking. It was maybe two or three minutes before he responded.

"That's a call Doctor T'Soni should make. Anytime we try to pry for more sensitive information, or even mention information sensitive to the UNSC, we're met with the usual backlash and hostility. We don't know what the UNSC might know. They could know everything or nothing about this Long Night of Solstice or Halo event. If you do it wrong, they might place their anger at you. Though do it right, it'll be properly diverted towards Cerberus."

At times...actually most of the time it was ridiculous the degree the UNSC refused to properly work with the Citadel species. Allies under your command needed info. This wasn't, couldn't be a one-way relationship. But, at the end of the day the UNSC Navy was vastly superior. The number of ships, weaponry, shielding, armor, and stealth was some treasure the Citadel and Systems Alliance would lay down a lot for. Including forgoing vital info and a alliance with actual dialogue.

Shepard just wondered how much more they were willing to give.

He looked over to the other figure. Shepard sighed, didn't meet eye to eye. The figure spoke.

"Well, damn, son, don't look too roughed up. Helluva a victory all things considering, even with Cerberus piggybacking on it. For the time being at least, it gets Cerberus off our back." Admiral David Anderson said.

His arms were crossed over command-duty kevlar uniform in arguably worse condition than Miranda's gear earlier. A older model Avenger weapons block over his shoulder. Accompanying it was the service cap with the seal of the Systems Alliance Navy and a comm ear piece.

If it were anyone else, Earth would've been entirely conquered, no resistance at all whatsoever. But under Admiral Hackett, humanity was still in the fight. For six months the resistance back home under his command was barely surviving the Reaper occupation. Taking pages out of the American and Haitian Revolution, the IRA, and the Vietnam War, they were reduced to guerrilla warfare, only holding a few towns, small sections of leveled cities, and a handful of classified military installations and bases. Along with those strategies, there was a extremely high casualty rate, lost ground everyday, and moral was fading. Their main goal was to save as many civilians and POWs from processing, and hold out until reinforcements arrive.

Shepard grimaced, a slow nod. He still only looked to Admiral Hackett. "Speaking of which, how was it? Telling the workers of the Crucible project to halt production?"

"We told military commanders and construction crews and scientists that the Project had to be halted so we could effectively coordinate the surge of people and supplies the UNSC will provide." Admiral Hackett said. "They seemed to have bought it. For now. I told them nothing of Cerberus. Only your crew, the Council, and Admiral Anderson and I know about them. Though if we wait for too long everyone will begin to wonder. Now, finding the Catalyst is even more dire."

More dire than it was before apparently. Shepard understood. "So you two will represent the Systems Alliance?"

"I'll be going in and out. Obviously, I'm kinda busy on my end." Anderson responded. "Admiral Hackett will take the main lead, try to sway Lord Hood as much as he can."

"Let's hope the UNSC can be more open in terms of strategy." Hackett added.

There was another moment of silence. Anderson sighed. "That's the only thing I consider I lost in all honesty. I'd imagine a lot of our allies won't like the idea of Hackett essentially replaced by someone they never met before, someone they don't trust. But...we don't have any other choice it seems."

"Again, let's see how reasonable they can be." Hackett said.

"Well, how is it back home?" Shepard dared to ask. He didn't know why. That was stupid…. His heart beated faster, nervous for the answer.

"Actually, that's one of the reasons why I'm here right now before the meeting." Anderson said. "Six days ago, when the signal started, the Reapers reallocated a majority of their forces to southern England, specifically London, less than a half-klick north of the River Thames. Since the UNSC arrived, they've gathered groups of capital ships into these areas, with a central location at the Isle of Dogs."

Anderson brought up a local map. It was this ghostly…

Shepard realized that carved, dead area was once London. The River Thames, the dozens of urban buildings were completely gone. Not even flowing water or any trace of life were present. Only this giant crater, surrounded by a few desolated and war torn buildings. The bottom of it was just blurry shapes, indicating they didn't have the intel to know what it looked like down there.

"They're digging for something." Anderson said.

"Digging?" Shepard responded after a moment.

"At first, we believed they were constructing something. Possibly a super processing center or some type of regional command station. But after recent intel reports, we've confirmed Reaper capital ships and destroyers are using their main cannons to mine for something. The crater so far is a half-klick in radius and half-klick deep. We can't get anywhere near it without hitting heavy resistance. Whatever they're looking for, it's important. They're bringing in hundreds of more ships, more ground troops, all centered around London"

Looking? For what? Of course, whatever was going on, was triggered by that signal, by the arrival of the UNSC. Another host of unknowns. But what was on Earth that the Reapers were focused on finding?

"Are you sure they're digging for something?" Shepard asked.

"There's no logistic supply lines being set up to provide materials." Anderson reported. "There's no strategic advantage of having a giant crater in the middle of London, away from any resistance areas that we can think of."

It didn't really connect. What was in London? More importantly, the Reapers were amping up their defenses. They were readying themselves. Maybe they figured since more humans, the UNSC coming out of the gate, they'll focus their attention on human worlds. It made sense why they were beefing up defenses but not why they were digging.

"How heavy is the defenses on Earth now?" Shepard asked,

"In the past few days, the number of Reaper capital ships have increased by hundreds. Possibly thousands." Hackett said, arms crossed. "We've never had clear knowledge on how many ships the Reapers posses, but it's safe to assume they outnumber the Quarian fleet if they were to wage a galactic-scale genocide."

Now, Earth was even a harder target. If it were a fortress before, with the addition of an unknown amount of Reaper ships it was now a solid mountain. The UNSC may have the firepower to break through, but… at the end of the day, they defeated a relatively small force at Illium. Around four-hundred-fifty UNSC ships took a single planet, with those kind of numbers you could fight anything. Shepard wondered though how they'll do against a full force without the element of surprise. Forces like on Palaven.

Or, as they were witnessing, on Earth.

"We should begin to head in there, inform everyone else." Anderson said, adjusted a loose cuff armor. "There's a brightside to this, believe it or not."

Anderson nodded over to Admiral Hackett. "Our strategic analysis revealed that even the Reapers have their limits. In order to peel off that many ships to defend and support whatever it is they're doing, they had to reposition groups from across all galactic fronts. There's been a decrease in both ship and troop numbers in major fronts, primarily Palaven.

"Palaven, relatively, for all intents and purposes, has become a soft target."

...

Captain Mark Florence woke up...again. On the same hospital bed aboard the Infinity. His throat felt dry and he felt light-headed. His body felt...weird. The feeling of pins and needles traveled all over, digging into his skin. In a strange way it felt almost comfortable. Sore, but comfortable.

He was in a patient recovery area. Large windows that overlooked a vast hallway usually filled with dozens of doctors, medical support staff, PAs, and patients. But right now it was empty. Nothing there except the glistening white walls.

He looked over to his left to the AI stand. Instead of the blue and white scrawny avatar of Contradiction, it was a dark yellow heavy-set figure dressed in a World War II pilot's uniform. He was at ease, staring at Mark. It was the Infinity's AI, Roland.

"Captain Florence." An all too recognizable voice said. Florence turned forward to find the prestigious naval dress uniform with four gold bars, one thick gold bar, followed by another gold bar on black shoulder pads and cuffs. Five gold stars on the collar. Decorated cap. Dozens of ribbons over the heart. All different and vibrant colors. Each one telling the story of heroic leadership.

Mark's first instinct was to stand at attention and call out the admiral on deck. But it seemed the weight of his own body held him down. Something tugged at his arm, pulled at the skin. He looked and found a IV buried deep in. A network of tubes ranging from plasma to unidentifiable blue liquid flowed into his arteries.

"At east, Captain." Lord Hood said before Mark could make any more attempts. He quietly stepped forward, stern and confident.

Mark slowly lowered his hand. His body wasn't able to tense up, relaxed from all the anesthesia and numerous drug cocktails. He tried to speak, but found the words were being caught in the throat.

"...Water…" He was barely able to force out in a shaky, quiet whisper.

Lord Hood nodded towards the AI stand. Mark saw a cup of water that seemingly appeared out of thin air. He grabbed it, slowly let the liquid rush down his throat.

"Spartan Lucy cracked your spine pretty good. A few few spurs along the lumbar vertebrae knocked out of place. Only one broken though, surprisingly." Roland said. He brought up a holo-screen of Mark's body. "If it weren't for the standard naval spinal case, you might've ended up a lot worse. But as said, just need some physical rehab and a few more CNS tests, but you should make a full recovery."

The water seemed to help a bit. Mark's throat felt less scratchy and it helped him gather a few thoughts.

"How are you, son?" Lord Hood asked. He still remained at a distance.

The first words that came to mind was the response that was required to be said when his RDC asked him and his class those sort of questions at Annapolis.

"Fuckin' fantastic, Admiral, sir." Mark weakley said. His tongue was getting stuck to the inside of his cheek.

In the presence of the highest ranked person in all of High Command (in terms of echelon table organization), Mark was very intimidated. Who wouldn't be?. He's the man that successfully lead the UNSC and Humanity through the end of the Great War. He saved billions of Human lives. Mark, and probably the majority of the UNSCDF, only saw him on tV screens and holo-displays. Speeches and patriotic propaganda and news stories how Lord Hood was able to successfully bring the Covenant genocide to a slow hell march as the Master Chief pushed them back.

And now Mark was...sitting on his ass right before him. Even with Mark's high rank in the Officer Corps, Lord Hood could've had him put down whenever he so desires

"Glad to hear it." Lord Hood said. He nodded over to Roland to continue.

"Today's July thirty-first. 'Bout four in the morning. You've missed quite a lot, Captain. We're on the other side of the galaxy now. At this super space station called 'the Citadel'." Roland explained. "Getting ready for official negotiations."

Barely two days, and talks were beginning, huh? The UNSC was moving fast on this one. Maybe the Reaper threat was deeper than he imagined.

Maybe they were just trying to get some upper hand on ONI.

"So I guess you came here to debrief me?" Florence said. It felt like his vocal cords were on the seems.

"Navy looks out for their own." Roland responded. He shifted uncomfortably. "But well, in a more cynical perspective, yeah. We are. Lasky was supposed to lead it, but he's a bit busy."

"So I'm taking his place." Lord Hood said.

"We just need basic intel." Roland continued. "You can type up a report when you feel better..."

"I understand." Mark replied. Lord Hood crossed his arms, watched Captain Florence. He didn't say anything.

Captain Florence immediately looked away. He noticed he was still holding the cup of water. He finished it. Placed it back on the stand. He prepared himself to speak.

"They knew about the artifact...About God's Key." Mark's throat stung. The energy alone to get those words out was tremendous. He felt his skull compress, a dull pain in his temples.

"ONI?" Lord Hood said.

Jesus. There wasn't any surprise at all. His face just remained this pure...void of any emotion.

"Uh…" Mark tried to keep his bearings. He felt tired and dizzy. "Yeah. Five years. They knew this thing existed for five years. They knew its location and found it about three years ago."

Any sort of surprise was only expressed by a quick turn of the eyes to Roland. Hood stepped forward, at the edge of the bed.

"How can you confirm this, Captain?" Lord Hood asked.

Mark took a deep breath. "Two ONI agents. A...Captain Veronica Dare…"

Mark coughed. He calmed down his breathing. Let his throat rest for a minute. Roland spoke. "Actually, I think you're referring to Captain Veronica Buck. Prominent ONI agent...but, she's well trusted by the Navy. Always gave us intel. It actually doesn't make sense-"

"Continue, Captain." Hood interrupted.

"Uh...Captain Veronica whoever. Ensign Cole Phelps…" Mark gulped. Just get through it. He felt like he was going to vomit. "Admiral Osman. In person."

"...Osman? Osman was there?" Roland's full attention was now on the Captain. His mouth was partially open. "Mark, Admiral Osman and nearly all of ONI's commanding staff has been missing for days and been declared AWOL as of yesterday morning. You're sure it was her?"

"...Unless it was a flash clone…"

"Jesus…" Roland quietly uttered. Trailed off.

"Why, Captain?" Lord Hood asked. Mark could sense some hostility and impatience.

"I don't know why. She was watching the interrogation… She tried to justify herself, after Ensign Phelps? After he explained how I was involved and how they knew about the Key through other Forerunner artifacts…. Black and red symbols… I guess they were able to hide it from the rest of the UNSC…"

Lord Hood motioned for Captain Florence to continue. Roland opened another screen and started an audio recorder. Florence guessed his tearing throat didn't matter.

He guessed he'll also get to Contradiction eventually, talking to the Captain this morning. Mark thought of what he said. The neurological decay, or something. It didn't make sense. He was fine. Neurological decay from what? The signal? That was impossible. The signal accessing his CNI chip was impossible in the first place. He was… He had to be fine. There was nothing to worry about.

So why was he nervous to tell Lord Hood and Roland the whole story?

"Uh...ONI kept asking me why I didn't stop the geeks from getting to close to the God's Key… Why I hesitated to open fire on the Key when it turned on…" Mark continued.

Lord Hood had been grilling Mark for a while, uncaring about his recent procedure. Mark had been mostly talking about what ONI questioned him on, and what he learned about them. But so far...he hadn't mentioned the specifics ONI asked. What they were really after.

Not yet.

"The same signal that lead the Infinity to Installation 03?" Lord Hood asked.

"Contradiction...scanned that the signal. It was malicious. It entered into the ship, and tried to access crew's neural implants...Including my CNI chip… That's why they kidnapped me, sir. They wanted to know what that signal did… Contradiction even contacted me this morning about it."

It seemed like nothing could get to them. No matter what Captain Florence brought up, there wasn't even a moment of hesitation or confusion. It was as if Lord Hood knew about the situation all long, and he only wanted to make sure that Mark's narrative fitted his knowledge.

"Yeah." Roland said. "ONI has a few back channels that the Navy knows about. We closed off communications in this area only a couple hours ago to make sure they don't try anything like that."

Mark nodded. Hood spoke. "Captain, ONI somehow knew you would be able to activate the God's Key. The agents, the predestined patrol route. However, from the way it sounds, not even ONI knows why you're able to."

Well...On the contrary it seemed they did actually know. They hinted at it, wouldn't reveal it to Mark…. All the voices...

He was fine, again. Absolutely fine.

Contradiction's message of his neurological state...he didn't want to bring it up because Roland would probably only worry about it...and Lord Hood… God, it was terrifying to think if he knew.

Mark needed more water. "Well, it seems they did. They talked about how they identified what the signal was, and possibly who sent it. But they didn't tell me."

"That isn't what I'm talking about, Captain. And you know it." Lord Hood replied. He quickly caught on. "They are missing a piece of the puzzle. The Navy can say what they want about ONI, but at the end of the day they are highly intelligent. However, they threw nearly everything they had to try and get you. They have completely alienated themselves from the United Nations Space Command. What we need to figure out is why, Captain"

Great. Lord Hood knew he was hiding something.

"Sir, I have no idea." Mark replied. "They…" There was no point in trying to hide it. Mark could hold out, only to force Lord Hood to directly order him to reveal it. "Contradiction, this morning when he talked to me...He said something about my neurological state. What the signal might've done to me. The CNI chip might've helped, but he isn't sure."

"Still doesn't make sense." Roland said. "The only way to access CNI chips is through physical hardware. There's no communications link. Only direct, physical input."

"How they accessed it doesn't matter." Lord Hood said. Mark felt a wave of nausea begin to rise. His stomach wozy and his vision slightly beginning to blur. "Why didn't you tell us this earlier, Captain?"

Lord Hood did seem to be growing more impatient. In a way he was digging for the exact same things ONI was digging for. Why Mark hesitated, and how it connected to the signal.

Jesus Christ.

Jesus, he was in the exact same fucking situation again.

"Sir, frankly, with all due respect I'm tired of being treated like a fucking political football by ONI and the Navy." Mark answered. He put as much conviction and anger into those words as he could, but under anesthesia and the dead throat, it didn't sound very good. Saying it to Lord Hood, it sounded a lot worse."My loyalty first and foremost is to the UNSC Navy."

Hood had hands on his hips. Stepped closer, threateningly. "I've seen your track record, Captain. In the War, on Draco III. There is no question about that. However, ONI is correct that your decision making abilities and your overall cognitive ability are in question."

What the hell? Jesus, Lord Hood went right out saying it. They didn't trust Mark. Not at all. Mark turned to Roland out of desperation.

"You scanned my brain?" Mark ordered Roland to answer.

"Uh…" Roland eyed Lord Hood. He nodded. "Yeah… MRIs. There was nothing out of the ordinary, but then again there's wasn't a lot activity since you were sleeping."

Lord Hood moved slightly closer, almost on top of Mark. The Captain will admit, he felt quite...frightened as he got nearer. "Now I will ask you directly, and you will give me an answer: In what way does ONI suspect that signal alter your mind and decision making abilities?"

Captain Florence could feel every heartbeat as it continued to rapidly increase. His chest quivering. He tried to look Lord Hood in the eyes but he simply couldn't.

Those other voices…?

He didn't know… Really.

He took another series of deep breathes. He felt light-headed again.

Just try to focus.

He was fine. He had no idea why ONI was going after him.

"Sir, I will repeat it again and again, I have no fucking idea why!" Mark exclaimed. "I don't know what ONI thinks happened to me, but what do I think? I think my brain is alright. I think I'm still able to serve! Not sit on my ass as a goddamn political football!"

His voice was filled more with fear than anger. He couldn't muster any of it. He immediately regretted raising his voice. His throat began to constrict, and tissue along the vocal cords was probably tearing away. The pins along his body turned into this cool numbness.

Lord Hood stared Mark down in silence, arms crossed. Didn't say a word. Didn't move. Didn't do a goddamn thing. It went like this for maybe two or three minutes until he walked back to the edge of the bed.

He sighed. He quickly looked to Roland, back to Mark. He spoke normally, the accusative tone was gone. There was only the voice of a commander. "We don't know ONI's next move. While previous intelligence operations are continuing without any difficulties, we are unable to initiate new operations and high-risk reconnaissance missions. This has left our fleets, the entire UNSC, extremely vulnerable. Mankind is at risk.

"I understand your position, Captain, but unfortunately you've become a liability. No one seems to know why you're ONI's top priority, and if we don't have that information, we don't know how much you contribute to that risk."

It was the same theme, but from the one-eighty Lord Hood took, instead of treating Mark as an active hostile it now seemed like he wanted to help the Captain. To try and solve this.

"I can continue to monitor his brain and CNI chip, sir." Roland timidly said. "Active scans and do a MRI every once and awhile that'll intercede with his physical therapy."

What else were they going to do with Mark then? Station him at some hard-target center? A brig where they could keep a constant watch on him? Christ. If it weren't for the delicate situation, Lord Hood might've just skipped all the formalities and have him court martialed and shot.

Lord Hood had a hand up to his chin. "Is there anything else ONI might've mentioned, Captain? Any possible leads or capabilities we don't know about?"

Mark thought back, tried to conjure up any small detail he could remember. "ONI tried to defend themselves, what they were doing. Admiral Osman herself said that everything they'd been doing is to achieve the same goal they've been after all this time."

"Which is…?"

"To defend Humanity and ensure her safety. At any and all costs." Mark tried to laugh, but the drugs stopped him. He spoke between coughs. "As fucking if. Everything they're doing is just to fuck over the UNSC."

Mark continued to think, every word yelled at by the ONI interrogators and through the battle aboard the Staff of Charon.

"I did remember something Contradiction told me this morning though… He told me, don't trust some dude named the 'Illusive Man', whoever the hell that is. It won't end well."

That may've finally triggered something. Lord Hood slowly looked around the room, as if watching for some other form of life. For a while he didn't respond, and for every second the silence continued, Mark's fear increased.

"For now, you're staying aboard the Infinity." Lord Hood finally said. "Get some rest, once you feel up to speed write and file a report for FLEETCOM on everything's that happened, including any details you might have forgotten...or left out. Roland will be monitoring you and make sure you're updated. Depending on how well Roland believes you are, HIGHCOM will decide whether or not you'll be reassigned, or otherwise."

Otherwise…? What the fuck did that mean? Mark wasn't sure if Lord Hood was just shoring his position, or... He didn't want to ask.

Lord Hood walked out of the room and down the hall. Two Spartan-IIIs appeared from a adjourning room. They accompanied him, and the three walked out of view.

"Maybe I should brief on everything that's happened when you were taking a nap." Roland said.

…

She wasn't sure what sort of dialogue would be initiated between traditional binary processing instruction bits and superpositioning qubit (quantum bit) entanglement, which also formed the basis of the QEC communications system. Anyways, Binary bits are based on the set of two definite states. Only two possibilities, and nothing else. Quantum computing however was based off the infinite possibilities of a quantum state. A qubit of data could've represented a zero, one, or any type of superposition at the same time. Two qubits represented four states, three represented eight, four represented twelve, and the pattern continues so on. A basic algorithm on a traditional binary-based computer will take the path of least resistance, only able to process one solution to a problem in very limited situations. Because of superpositioning, quantum computing was able to process numerous routes within the basis of the algorithm. Dozens of solutions at the same exact time without needing to drastically increase processing power to meet demands due to the nature of qubit data and the process of particle freeze..

In ways quantum computing was more advanced than traditional binary bits, in ways it wasn't. But because of increased processing power, the ability to calculate and simulate certain situations, problems, and algorithms on a extremely faster scale than binary bit systems it was utilized as the foundation for AI. And because of less restriction on possibilities it was easier to program pattern recognition, anomaly detection and machine learning. This gave the quantum computing blue box the ability to quickly access files and processes to make the AI what it was: A highly advanced, super-intelligent being.

So what Tali didn't understand was why would the UNSC limit themselves with traditional binary coding? Roland had described that most AI utilize an access loop system. Certain situation, a certain program accessed a information or memory loop, based on the information or past experiences in that loop, the AI responds accordingly. In a way it made sense actually. These loops were responding in a similar way the neurons do in the brain, further solidifying this whole photocopy brain-thing. Grow more loops (neurons) overtime, less storage space, but the AI was able to learn new situations and how to respond.

The only problem was because of this she'd imagine the AI's processes were a lot slower. Not necessarily less advanced, in terms of the ability to solve certain complex situations and problems, but certainly slower. They might've developed a program or certain hardware to solve such complications, but they had to be quantum based or had highly advanced processing power systems that required large amounts of energy and coolant. Which makes it more unclear how they're able to transport AI on a single data disk.

So why not use quantum computing? Maybe it was the way the AI was designed? The process of translating a brain to digital form was unable to translate? Maybe it had to do with dark energy systems. It was easier to utilize quantum computing with eezo elements. Especially when part of the process required maintaining particles near absolute zero.

It also brought up another question: If both EDI and the Geth were based not only on dark energy structures but quantum computation, how were they supposed to have proper dialogue with an AI based off the binary bit system and regular electricity?

She looked to the Engineer, 'Virgil'. He probably had something to do with it most likely. If he was able to fix up eezo based electronic systems without prior knowledge (which brought up even more questions), then Tali was sure he'd act as a rosetta stone between the information bits.

"What kind of emotional attachment did the Master Chief develop?" Liara added on to a topic Tali admittedly had less interest in. Someone grew fond of an AI; it happened. It wasn't really that unique, as Tali had learned in the past few months.

"Well, platonic. Other than that it's difficult to describe." Captain Lasky answered. "He cares for her, a lot. When she died…the effects are weighing heavy on him. The guilt I guess."

"How did she develop Rampancy? Any specific causes, or…?" Tali asked.

"Most third generation AIs live for about seven years due to their design, plus or minus depending on how they're treated, etcetera." Roland responded. "Cortana's eight years old. She started showing symptoms of Rampancy, and the Chief tried to save her… You know the rest of the story.

"There's a theoretical state for an AI who surpassed Rampancy. We call it metastability. AIs who become 'human', in a sense. We've never seen it, mostly due to technological restraints."

"And that's why you tensed up when we mentioned the situation with the Geth?" Liara said to Lasky. "How we helped them achieve an evolutionary track on par to a sentient biological lifeform?"

"Possibly because that's what we have to do today." Lasky responded. "We know we're stepping into the unknown, further than we have before, but the UNSC is willing to do anything it'll take to help restore Cortana."

"Why for him though?" Liara pressed on. "You have a Navy vastly superior to nearly anything we've encountered. Millions to billions of ready troops. You're willing to do anything for a single soldier?"

Lasky and Roland looked to each other. A quiet, grim and ultimately silent conversation.

Lasky turned back. "Why did Cerberus spend all that time and money trying to revive Commander Shepard? Why not spend it on something else, prepare for the Reapers, buy more fleets? It's the same principle. Despite all our ships, our troops, and whatever technological superiorities we had or didn't have, it all failed. The Covenant pushed us back… Only the Spartans and the Master Chief were able to stop it."

"Whatever vital role he played in the Great War, is he still necessary now?" Liara pressed on. "It seems you're secured now."

"No…" Lasky crossed his arms. "Without the Chief, Humanity would've been wiped out… Even after the War. All of Humanity would've been destroyed. Trust me, we still need heroes."

Liara nodded. She sighed. "What do you think will happen? When she's revived"

Lasky didn't say anything. His eyes were towards the floor, deep in thought. He slowly turned back up, shook his head.

"I don't know. Ultimately, we want to help him." He wanted to drop it, and thus Liara did. For once. She only eyed Tali with concern.

Tali didn't understand this whole hero worship. Going so far as to try and revive a dead AI with what essentially was experimental techniques. Shepard was celebrated as the man who pretty much held the galaxy together, but to have this sort of reverence and mythos surrounding him wasn't as...extreme as the UNSC held towards the Master Chief.

"...Where should we begin?" Tali asked, quietly and deliberate.

"Dialogue." Roland said. "Actual dialogue between EDI, Optimus Prime over there, and me."

The AI nodded to Virgil. The being hummed as if he were excited, and turned towards EDI. He slowly floated closer and closer.

So Tali was right. EDI and the Geth Prime looked hesitant.

The Geth Prime spoke. "There is a plethora of unknown, Lasky Captain. Without further knowledge, there can be no consensus if this will work."

"...I guess a lot more plans depend on faith." Lasky responded. "Where should we start?"

…

"How should we respond?"

He sighed. "We'll still play the same game, but unfortunately our time tables have to be shorten."

"By how much?"

"Admittedly I don't know. There's only so many times where I can take a position of ignorance. Something this big… We'll have to be more creative. It was inevitable this would leak, but I hoped it wouldn't happen so soon. Unfortunate. Inform everyone to be ready. No doubt the deployment date will be sooner than expected."

"You're sure, sir-?"

"I'm sure. Ready our staging areas… Begin to distribute the experimental weaponry we recovered from the Solstice."

"And if the they find out about this, then it'll prove that we do know-"

"If we reach that point, then relations have all deteriorated beyond repair. It was a risk I was well aware of from the very beginning. As I said, their allegiance was unnecessary."

"But they could possibly hurt us."

He was silent for a moment. The glistening sun seemed to blacken. "No… At this point they can't. Nothing can... It may seem like arrogance, but from a strategic standpoint our position is solidified. This war is...something beyond what you can imagine. It's our Salvation. What it'll be to them however will be their Tomb."