Chapter 18
Allies from the Deep

"Sullivan?" said Shepard, feeling as if he had just been physically struck.
It was not possible. He had seen the captain's aircraft smash into the ground during the battle at the Flying Legion's base. There was no way anyone could have survived that.
"Are you sure?" he said, "It could be a trick by the Intelligence."
"Me and EDI checked the radio frequency, it matches the captain's!"
"What's going on?" said Coupee, looking at the commander in bafflement.

"Just a moment," Shepard replied before keying his radio again. "Joker, can you patch me through to him?"
"Alright, just give me a minute."
The radio went quiet, and he looked to Coupee.
"It looks like one of our missing team members is alive."
"I'm glad to hear it," Coupee replied.
Shepard's radio crackled into life and Captain Sullivan's voice came through.
"Shepard? Can you hear me?"

"I read you Sullivan, damn good to hear from you."
"Likewise Commander. Where are you?"
"We're safe, what about you?"
"Flying blind, but safe for the moment."
"Good, we're sending you directions to our location."
"You got somewhere for me to land?"
"Yes. It's not perfect, but you should be able to get down without too much trouble."
"Better than a poke in the eye I suppose."

Shepard chuckled. It was a silly thing to say, but after everything that had happened he needed it.
"EDI," he said, "Send Sullivan our coordinates, we'll be out to meet him soon."
"Of course Commander," the AI replied.
With the situation in hand, Shepard turned back to Coupee and Bishop who were still regarding him with curiosity.
"You'll have to excuse me for a moment," he said, "I have to meet our friend."
"You sure it's safe?" said Coupee.

"Pretty sure. Besides, if it's not, I've got my assault rifle."
"Good thinking," said Bishop.
"Back into the spacesuits then?" said Benton.
"Do we have a choice?" Xena remarked drily.
The team went to grab their helmets when Shepard thought of something.
"Our friend is flying a fighter aircraft, is there anywhere near my ship it can be stored out of the cold?" he asked.

"Sure," said Bishop, "There's a big hall where we've been keeping most of our aircraft, it should be safe there."
"Do you really think you should be telling them that?" Coupee said quickly.
"Ah! You worry too much mate. Besides if the Intelligence has worked out a way to reach this universe, we'd know it."
Coupee gave the Australian a hard look but nodded all the same.
"Alright, go with Shepard's team. Take a few men to help move the plane inside."
"Got it."

"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Dyer, who until now had been sitting quietly at the far end of the table.
"We should be fine, but thanks," said Shepard. "We'll be back once we've spoken to Sullivan."
Smiling, Bishop got up and threw an Enfield rifle over his shoulder before heading out the door. Shepard's team followed in quick succession, hastily putting their helmets back on.
"I don't understand it," said Garrus, "We saw Sullivan crash into the ground, there's no way he could have survived that."
"You saw him crash?" Tali said.

"The Intelligence… showed us footage of the Flying Legion's base being attacked," replied Shepard.
"Could it have lied to you?"
"I don't know. Maybe it manipulated the footage. I'm sure Sullivan will tell us when he gets here."

Once the whole team had left the cabin, Bishop led them back through the camp, calling over a handful of men in British military uniforms to join them. Once out from under the arches, they crossed the enormous hall and headed back into the tunnel, passing Townend's tank and the machine gun position in quick succession. They had just exited into the cold openness, when Joker informed them that Sullivan's aircraft had just exited a portal a few miles away and would be arriving shortly.

"Moment of truth then," said Bishop, unslinging his rifle and watching the sky.
By now the storm had blown itself out and the icy ruins were still, but no less menacing. Leaving the tunnel, Shepard began making his way down the stairs beside the Normandy's landing area when he began to hear a low rumbling. Scanning the sky, he spotted a small dark spot in the distance.

"Shepard to Sullivan," he said, activating his radio, "We see you, can you see us?"
"I think so," Sullivan replied in an uncertain voice, "What is this place?"
"A ruin. We'll tell you all about it once you're down. Just follow our signal for now, there's plenty of space on the Normandy's port side."
"Roger that."

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the team made its way to the Normandy, standing under it to wait for Sullivan, whose aeroplane was becoming larger by the moment. Shepard's people rubbed their arms or jumped up and down on the spot, trying to keep warm. Bishop and the soldiers he had brought with him meanwhile were looking up in amazement at the spaceship.
"You know," Bishop said, "A few of these things might have made all the difference when we tried to take the Dardanelles."

"Don't get your hopes up," said Benton, "They don't even have these things in my time, at least not on Earth."
"You're not from Earth?"
"Oh, no, I mean, we are, but this ship comes from a few centuries in our future."
"Well, you're future at least," Bishop remarked with a sad smile, "I dunno what mine holds."
"We'll get you home," Tali said, feeling that she had to comfort the man.
"Thanks little Miss," he replied, managing to sound hopeful.

Craning his neck, Shepard watched as the captain's plane came into land. As it got closer, it became clear that the Warhawk was in a sorry state. Smoke was trailing from under its engine cowling, its wings had been punched through in several places and much of the paintwork was blackened by scorch marks. All the same, the fighter aircraft held its course until finally it touched down. There was a screech of protest as the wheels dug into the snow, but Sullivan kept the aircraft under control until it came to a stop a short distance from the Normandy.

Breaking into a run, Shepard hurried across the snow toward it. The Warhawk's engine spluttered as the propeller slowed and the cockpit's canopy slid back, releasing a cloud of smoke. A figure clambered out and tried to stand on the wing, but lost their balance and plunged headfirst into the snow.
"SULLIVAN!" Shepard cried out.

Fearful that the captain had been hurt, he plunged on through the thick snow. Reaching the plane, he found Sullivan lying flat on his back, his face covered in soot.
"Captain!" Shepard cried out, falling to his knees, "Are you hurt? Can you hear me?"
A massive grin spread across Sullivan's face.
"Well it's good to know you worry about me," he remarked.

"Sullivan… you… you… you're alive…" Shepard stammered, at a loss at how to respond.
"Of course I'm alive you fool."
Still grinning, Sullivan pushed himself into a sitting position, just as the rest of the team arrived.
"It's bloody good to see you again," said Benton.
"Likewise," Sullivan replied.

He began to get to his feet, only to stumble forward. He would have fallen over, had Shepard not been there to catch him.
"Sullivan?" he said, the worry returning, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing," the captain replied breathlessly, "Just… just a bit worn out is all. I've been flying an awfully long time."
"We should get you to the med bay," said Shepard, "Garrus, help me get him up."
"Got it," the Turian replied, coming forward and looping one of Sullivan's arms over his shoulder while Shepard got the other.
"Thanks," Sullivan mumbled, "What about my plane?"

"We'll take care of it," said Bishop, who was already directing his men to begin moving the aircraft.
"Who are you?" said Sullivan.
"He's a friend," Shepard answered, "Now let's get you inside.
"Sure, sure, just… just get the computer."
"Tali," Shepard ordered, "Get the computer from Captain Sullivan's plane and come join us in the Normandy."

"On it Shepard," the Quarian replied, already climbing onto the Warhawk's wing and leaning into the cockpit.
Half carrying Sullivan, Shepard, Garrus and the rest of the team headed back across the snow and ice to the Normandy. The cargo ramp was already down and they quickly climbed aboard, grateful to be out of the biting cold.
"I have already informed Doctor Chakwas of your return," EDI stated as they got to the lift, "She is preparing the medical bay as we speak."
"Thanks EDI," replied Shepard, "You're a live saver."
"It is my job."

Taking the lift to the crew deck, the team headed straight to the medical bay. Though Sullivan said that he was fine, Chakwas insisted he lie down while she carried out a medical examination.
"Do you need anything?" Sherlock asked the captain.
"I could murder a cup of coffee," he replied.
"No food or drink until your examination is finished," Chakwas stated flatly, "You could have serious internal injuries."
"Really Doctor… I'm fine."
"I'll be the judge of that."

She continued to scan his body. As this went on, Tali arrived, carrying a small metal box under her arm.
"I've got the Warhawk's computer," she said, "Luckily it doesn't seem to have suffered any damage."
"You guys did a good job with that equipment," said Sullivan. "Those damn machines almost blew me out of the sky more times than I care to admit, and it never failed."
"Glad to hear it," said the Doctor, "But what happened to you? Last we saw, your aeroplane crashed into the ground."

"I almost did. Luckily, I was able to open a portal just in time and fly through."
The captain blinked suddenly, his eyes becoming very wide.
"I got through to Moriarty's base," he said, barely speaking above a whisper.
Shepard was amazed. With all that had happened he had completely forgotten about Sullivan's part of the mission.
"You made it?" he said, almost whispering as he began to comprehend what this meant.
"I did," Sullivan replied.

He was interrupted by Chakwas as she finished her scan.
"You've got a few bumps and bruises and are more than a little overtired," she said, "But nothing a good meal won't fix."
"Thank goodness," Sullivan exclaimed with a laugh.
"Come on then," said Benton, "Let's get some food in you."
Now in much higher spirits, the team left the medical bay and crowded around the large table in the mess hall. The Doctor and Sherlock went to the kitchen area and grabbed as much food as they could. The plates had hardly touched the table before Sullivan grabbed a protein bar and shoved it into his mouth.

"Damn," he mumbled after downing a full mug of coffee as well, "I needed that. The Warhawk's a good aircraft, but keeping her flying is a struggle."
"It must have been hard going," said Benton, "You were in combat before getting to Moriarty's base, and then flying around for hours after that."
"Don't remind me."
"So," asked Shepard, deciding he needed to press the issue at hand, "What did you see?"
Sullivan put down the protein bar he was eating.

"A lot. Moriarty's got a heavily armed base, and it's well-defended. I got pictures on the computer, if you can print them out I'll show you."
"No need to print them," said Tali, who was busy linking the small boxy computer to a datapad, "I can show the images here."
She pressed a few more buttons and handed the pad to Shepard. He looked at the screen, only to see a plain of whiteness.

"Umm, Tali," he said, "I think you've made a mistake, there's nothing here."
"No, it's fine," said Sullivan. "Moriarty's universe has very little in it, most of it was just this empty whiteness. I was confused at first, until I saw his base."
Shepard scrolled through the images. The first few only showed more whiteness, but by the fifth picture, a dark object appeared. It was five long rectangular shapes, arranged in a vague star formation around a circle. It was also familiar, though it took a few minutes for him to realise what it was.

"That's… that's the Citadel," he said.
"The Citadel?" said Garrus and Tali at the same time.
They hurried around the table and leaned over Shepard to get a look for themselves. There was no mistaking it.
"What's the Citadel?" said Xena.
"It's a space station," Shepard replied, "Like Sevastopol, but bigger, much bigger."
"But how the hell did the Intelligence get it?" said Garrus, "The Citadel's guarded by hundreds of ships and thousands of troops."

"The Intelligence? What are you talking about" said Sullivan, confused.
The team members looked at one another.
"I'll explain," said the Doctor, "You see Captain, during our last mission, we learned that Moriarty was not the mastermind behind the raids the Lutece twins wanted us to stop."
He spent the next several minutes explaining what had happened on Columbia and what the team had learned. By the end, Sullivan was shocked, but said he was still willing to fight if they were.

"Those monsters killed my people at Conran Base. Fictional characters or not, they were my friends."
"Glad to hear it," said Sherlock.
Shepard meanwhile kept looking through the pictures. Sullivan had managed to fly around the Citadel about three times snapping pictures. There seemed to be a great mass like a cloud under the station as well, but the images were still unclear. It was hard to see much on the station itself, as the pictures had been taken at a distance. On the central ring called the Presidium which linked the five arms however, it seemed as if stuff had been added, especially on the tower used by the council. He tried to zoom in, but the images were too blurry to make out any details.

"There's something being built on the Presidium," he said aloud.
"What is it?" asked Garrus.
"I'm not sure."
"Why would the Intelligence use this Citadel?" asked the Doctor, "I doubt it would need such a large structure for a base."
"Perhaps it can do something a normal space station can't," remarked Lestrade.
A thought came to Shepard like a train rushing out of a tunnel.
"The Citadel's a mass relay!" he exclaimed.
"A what?" said the Doctor.

"In our universe, there are these machines called mass relays," Shepard explained, "They can transport a spaceship across the galaxy in a matter of seconds. We used to think they were built by the Protheans but later learned they were actually created by the Reapers as a trap."
"Alright, but why would the Intelligence need one of those?" asked Benton. "It's already using those portal devices to get around."
"I don't know," Shepard began, "But the Citadel is an extremely powerful relay, designed to transport thousands of Reapers all at once…"

Another thought came to him, a terrible thought. Hastily he began scrolling through the pictures until he got a clear one of the cloud underneath the Citadel. He soon saw that it was not a cloud, but thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of spaceships, grey metal forms shaped like cuttlefish, covered in cool blue lights with threatening red eyes.
"The Intelligence has a Reaper fleet…" he said, voice catching in his throat.
"That's not possible," said Garrus, though it was clear he did not believe himself.
Sullivan leaned over to have a look.

I had a devil of a time getting close to those spaceships," he said.
"How did you even get all these pictures?" asked Tali, "And how did you get away?"
"I'm as amazed as you are," Sullivan replied. "I thought Moriarty… well, the Intelligence, would have had AA guns, but I wasn't attacked until I flew too close to those machines. One of them tried to chase me down but I was able to use the portal device to escape to another reality. I flew around there without much of a plan until Miss Ripley contacted me."
"Perhaps the Intelligence never believed that anyone would be able to reach its universe?" Sherlock remarked.

"It's very likely," said the Doctor. "The question now is what do we do? It's obvious that the Intelligence has stolen the Citadel for a reason, and whatever that might be, it cannot be good."
"Commander," asked Watson, "You said the Citadel was one of these mass relay devices. Perhaps the Intelligence wants to use that to transport those Reaper ships across all the universes at once."
"It's very likely," said Shepard. "A fleet that large and powerful could threaten just about everything."

"But what can we do about it?" said Amanda, "There's only a handful of us, plus the Normandy. Even if we got through to the Intelligence's universe, we'd be massively outnumbered and outgunned."
"We have to talk to Coupee and Bishop," Shepard said, "They were kidnapped by the Intelligence, maybe they can help."

•

"Are you mad?!"
Clarence Coupee's words echoed around the small wooden cabin, his disbelief palpable.
"I know we're asking a lot," said Shepard.
"A lot? No! You ain't asking for a lot! You're asking us to commit suicide!"
A ringing silence filled the air.

Shepard and his team had returned to the soldier's encampment, and had just spent the last hour explaining what they had learned about the Intelligence's base and their plan to attack. On hearing this last part Coupee had been shocked, and it had only gotten worse when Shepard said they would need their help.
"We want to go home!" Coupee shouted, "We've done our part and fought our battles! Why should we get ourselves killed for nothing?"
"Mr. Coupee-"
"Corporal Coupee!"

"Corporal. I know I have no right to ask this of you or your men, but this might be our only choice. We could find your home universe and return you to it, but the Intelligence is planning something, something that involves all of the universes. If it's successful, then nowhere will be safe."
Coupee snorted, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I joined the army as a rite of passage," he sighed, "Not to fight monsters from outer space."
"I wish I could say you get used to it eventually," Benton remarked.
Bishop, who had been silent until that point, leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"For what it's worth, I think you're telling the truth Commander," he said, "But I dunno how much help we can be. There's about two thousand men in this camp, with a few dozen tanks and aircraft. Even with all of them, we'd still be out-manned on that base, plus it wouldn't surprise me if they've beefed up their defences since your friend flew in there."

It was at this point that William Dyer put his hand up.
"If I may gentlemen, and ladies," he said, "I think we might be able to get help for this task."
"From who?" said Coupee, looking confused, "There's no one here but us."
"You're forgetting the Old Ones."
Another ringing silence came over the cabin.
"The Old Ones?" said Bishop, looking worried for the first time, "Professor you can't be serious?"

"Why shouldn't we ask them? They're just as much a part of the multiverse as the rest of us, and will be in just as much danger if the Intelligence puts its plans into action."
"I still don't like it, those things give me the creeps."
"I'll admit they are… different, but they've shown us no hostility so far."
"So far."
"Who are these 'Old Ones'" asked Tali.

"They are the beings who built this city," said Dyer, "These days they live under the sea, but we should be able to contact them without difficulty."
"I don't like this," Coupee cut in, "Besides, even if they aren't hostile, they've shown no interest in helping us."
"Then perhaps we should ask them?" said the Doctor.

Coupee looked around the table, hoping for one of the team to speak in his defence, but none did.
"Fine," he grumbled, "You go talk to them, but don't say I didn't warn you."
"Very good," said Dyer, rising to his feet. "We can take a car down to the lower levels, who's going to come?"

The whole team volunteered, but as there was only space for five people in the car, Shepard picked the Doctor, Garrus and Tali to come with him and Dyer. He ordered the others to bring some supplies from the Normandy to the encampment, especially portable heaters.
"We've got more than enough of them to spare," he explained to Benton, "And these guys could do with some warmth."

"Got it," the Sergeant replied, shaking Shepard's hand, "Good luck to you."
With that, Dyer led the small team to the other side of the encampment, where the soldiers had stored a few vehicles, covered in heavy tarpaulins.
"More petrol engines then?" Garrus remarked drily as he watched Dyer uncover a long staff car.

"She's old but she'll get you there," Dyer countered, "Just like your ship."
"I wouldn't call the Normandy old," Shepard countered, "She's not even a year out of the dockyard yet."
Laughing, the team climbed into the car and after a few false starts from the hand crank, the engine spluttered into life and they set off into the depths of the city.
Keeping them at a steady speed, Dyer drove through a series of passageways and galleries. A few times they crossed bridges that spanned great canyons between buildings, their bottoms hidden by darkness or choked with ice.

"Just how old is this city Dyer?" Shepard asked.
"It's hard to say for sure," the professor replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the uneven road ahead. "But the Old Ones came to earth millions of years ago, and this was the site of their first city."
"Haven't you asked the Old Ones?" said the Doctor.
"Oh, I have, I have, but they don't see time the same way we do. Years mean very little to them."

Turning into a passageway, they came to a series of massive halls, where they saw signs of life in the form of tall albino penguins, waddling about and paying them little mind.
"What are those?" Garrus asked.
"Some subspecies of emperor penguin," Dyer replied, "The Old Ones used them for livestock. Don't worry, they're quite harmless."

Leaving the penguins behind, the team passed along another long tunnel before reaching a stone roadway that spiralled downward. Here the darkness seemed to press in on them, and even with the car's headlamps and Shepard's tactical torch, the place had an unearthly quality to it.
"How much further?" he asked.
"Another quarter-hour or so," Dyer replied, "Then we'll have to climb down some stairs."

They carried on descending through the dead city.
After some time, Shepard noticed that there was a faint phosphorescent glow coming from down the tunnel. As they drove on it became brighter, throwing ghostly shadows over the ornately carved walls. Finally, the road levelled out and they passed through a great archway, entering a vast cavern. Unlike the rest of the city, this one had rough walls, perhaps natural or blasted and left as they were. The cave was even larger than any they had seen before, the peak of the ceiling lost in darkness. Far below them, was a lake, giving off a faint blue glow.

The roadway ended not far from the arch, and on its left hand side was a wide staircase, carved into the rock, zig-zagging its way down to the water's edge.
"Here we are," said Dyer, bringing the car to a halt.
He stopped the engine, and the cavern became deathly still.
"There's no one here," Tali said, her masked face looking around as she climbed out of the car.

"Yes, the Old Ones live below the sea," Dyer replied, pointing down at the water, "This is where they enter the city from."
"How do we contact them?" Shepard asked.
"There's a bell at the bottom of the stairs. If we ring it they will come."
"How many?" asked Garrus, sounding a little unsure.
"One, two, maybe more," Dyer replied.
"Let's not waste time then," said the Doctor.

With deliberately casual steps, he began heading down the stairs, soon followed by Dyer.
Shepard was about to go after them, when Tali took hold of his arm.
"Are you sure about this?" she whispered.
"Not at all," he replied, "But hey, if it all goes wrong, you've still got your shotgun."
"I don't think you can fix every situation with a shotgun," Garrus remarked.
"Well, I guess we'll find out," Shepard countered.

Squeezing Tali's hand, he began leading her down the stairs, Garrus following in their wake.
The journey down to the lake's edge took much longer than expected. The team's footsteps echoed loudly off the stone surfaces, hollow and sinister. Stalagmites and stalactites loomed out of the darkness like the blades of ancient weapons, glinting in the torchlight.

When they finally got to the bottom of the stairs, Shepard's legs were shaking badly from a mix of tiredness and unease. They had reached a large flat area, made from a single piece of stone that gradually sloped down into the lake. At the water's edge was a column, also carved from stone, with a bell made from what appeared to be brass attached to the top. Looking over the lake, Shepard saw it was mirror flat, without even the faintest hint of movement along its shoreline.

"Well, here we are," said Dyer in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Are you sure about this?" asked Shepard.
"I'm positive."
He reached a hand up to the bell before stopping himself.
"I should warn you," he said, "The old ones, they… they aren't… well human."

Shepard chuckled.
"Garrus and Tali here aren't human and I've come to like them."
"Glad to hear it," Tali replied.
"Yeah, it's good to know the man we've risked our lives for over and over again has come to like us," said Garrus.
Dyer's face remained serious.
"The Old Ones are very different to your friends Commander, I just thought you should be aware of it."
"I understand," Shepard replied, "But if they can help then it doesn't matter how they look."
"Very well."

With that, Dyer reached up again and shook the bell's clapper. Three rings sounded out, echoing around the vast cavern. For a few moments the stillness returned, then a ripple appeared in the centre of the lake. It was small, barely perceptible as it lapped against the edge of the sloped stone. Another soon followed, stronger, causing a gentle echo to sound out. Before long the surface was bubbling and a dark shape appeared.
Despite his brave words, Shepard gulped. He felt Tali's three-fingered hand grasp his. Gently he squeezed back.
The dark shape moved toward them, the water bubbling as it rose higher and higher until the surface broke in an ungainly shower.

Shepard barely suppressed a gasp. The creature before him was like nothing he had ever seen. It was about six feet tall, with a long barrel like body of thick leathery skin. In place of feet, it had an array of thin tentacles, pushing it through the water, while more sprouted from its torso as its equivalence of arms. On its back were a pair of large wings, currently folded-up and dripping wet.

In place of a head were five stalks, capped by a red bulbous eye. Each one flexed independently, looking around the cave before focusing on Shepard's team. In a few swift movements that none of them would have thought possible, the Old One swam to the shoreline and climbed up onto the smooth sloped stone, coming to a halt just before them.
Shepard found he was breathing heavily and fought to get it under control.

"Professor Dyer."
The voice was not spoken, for the Old One had no mouth. Instead, it came from the inside of their heads like an alien thought.
"Good afternoon," Dyer replied.
"Who are these people?"
They are enemies of the Great Intelligence."
"And why have you brought them here?"
"We need your help," Shepard said.
The Old One moved one of its eyestalks to look at the commander.
"You are the leader of these people?" it asked.

"I am Commander of the SSV Normandy. My team and I were recruited from different realities to hunt down a criminal called Moriarty. It was only today we learned that he was just a puppet of our real enemy, the Great Intelligence."
"Your team comes from different realities?"
"Yes."
"How many of you are there?"
"13, well, 14 now, plus our pilot and medical officer.
The Old One was silent for a time, its eye stalks moving back and forth over the team.
"Why do you need our help?" it asked eventually.
"We plan to attack the Intelligence's home base."

The Old One's tentacles twitched in what must have been a gesture of surprise.
"The Intelligence is planning to take control of the multiverse," Shepard continued. "We believe it is building a machine to do just that and…"
"And is planning to use it to control reality."
Shepard was taken aback.
"You know… you know…"
"That you and I are creations of fiction and that our reality is a byproduct of human thought?" the Old One replied, "Yes Commander, we know."
"How… how did you find out?"

A sound went through Shepard's mind, almost like a laugh.
"Our creator gave us billions of years' worth of knowledge Commander," stated the Old One. "Eventually we learned that ours is one of many realities, and then that there is an even greater reality beyond those. The Great Intelligence was more than a little surprised when it found out what we already knew."
Shepard was surprised by the news as well, but decided he had to press on with his request.
"If you know the truth, then you know what's at stake."
"We cannot help you," the Old One stated simply.
"Why not?"

"Regardless of what you might think of my kind, we are not warriors, but we have seen countless worlds come and go. Whatever the Intelligence's plan may be; we shall outlast it."
"Don't you think you're being shortsighted?"
This time it was the Doctor that spoke, giving the Old One a firm look.
"If the Intelligence is successful then it will be more powerful than any individual entity in existence," he said, "Be it the realms of fiction or reality. No matter your defences, it will break through."

The Old One's tentacles twitched again.
"I know our victory is far from certain," the Doctor continued, "But the simple fact of the matter is that we either hang together, or most assuredly hang separately."
The Old One remained silent for some time, its eye stalk flickering back and forth between the team members.
"There is logic in your words timelord," it finally replied, "I will contact my people and see what decision they shall make."

The Old One raised its eye stalks so they were pointing toward the ceiling and a high-pitched musical piping emitted from its body. It was so loud that Shepard and his team clamped their hands over their ears to keep the worst of it out. Whistling noises echoed around the cave, like the notes of some unknown form of music.
The sounds died away almost as soon as they had started and the Old One's eye stalk's relaxed.

"It has been decided," the creature stated, "We shall fight at your side Commander, not only for our universe, but for all."
"Thank you…" Shepard began, before his eyes turned to the lake.
The smooth surface was bubbling again, not just in one place, but everywhere. Then, one by one, Old Ones rose from the depths, eye stalks looking around the dark cave.

"How… how many of you are there?" the Doctor asked, sounding anxious for the first time.
"Our numbers are countless," stated the Old One, "But for this battle, one million of my people have volunteered."
"One million huh," said Garrus, sounding awestruck, "Now that should even up the odds."