Epilogue: Here There Be Dragons

Hell Is Empty. All The Devils Are Here.

-The Tempest

The reports came in over the battlenet and none were promising. The entire fleet was gone, not a single ship had survived. There were no survivors either, not a single pod or derelict ship with lifesigns. They were all gone. After what had happened at Halo, it was all the more devastating for them. Worse yet, the bones of their mighty fleet had been picked clean by scavengers. Heretical savages, bereft of any light or wisdom of the gods. Only there to steal from the dead to fulfill their own base desires. Despicable.

There was little doubt who was at fault for this. The Demon had struck again, no doubt guided by the hand the False Shepherd. Alone either one was a terrible threat to the Journey. Together, they were sinful storm that threatened to undo all they had built. Several thousand years of penance, of preparing, of readying themselves for salvation, it was all in danger of being wiped away. First they had destroyed the sacred ring, now they delayed their righteous crusade further.

Truly these were dark times. All the more reason to keep the faith strong, to prevent those who doubted from voicing discontent and confusion. This was a test, their gods trying their willpower, their resolve to see the Journey through. That was a small comfort indeed, but it was a comfort they needed now more than ever.

As he sat in his chamber, one of his aides slowly entered, floating into the room on his small hoverskirt. He did not look at him. It would be a wasted effort, he already knew what the aide would say. He had been reading the reports himself for well over and hour now. What else could the fool possibly have to share?

"Your grace, I hate to bring more ill tidings, but... it seems our troubles are only compounded this day."

He raised his head from his screen, but still did not turn to face the attendant.

"What is it that warrants disturbing me further?" He asked.

"An increase in pirate attacks over the last rotation," The attendant explained. "All of them targeting military installations and supply chains. They have decimated many of our ports in crucial sectors in quick succession. The Banished have taken notice themselves and begun a renewed offensive in the outer sectors. It is bedlam, your grace."

He waved it off, such rabble was constant. The Banished and pirates were always a scornful thorn in their sides. Their boldness in this moment of time was most inopportune, but it could not distract them from the more important task. Not when the Journey lay ahead. Not when salvation was close at hand.

"It is a material concern," he stated. "One that will soon no longer matter."

"The Council is already expressing fears, your grace," The attendant warned. "They are in an uproar, especially after Unyielding Hierophant's destruction. Combined with the loss of Halo, they fear ill omens. They seek the Inquisitor for guidance, implore for an extended session to discuss countermeasures and assess new strategies!"

The Council, full of small-minded fearful fools. So easily riled up and concerned. How he wished he could speed along their irrelevance. How he desires to simply see them removed as an obstacle to all that truly mattered. How often had he been forced to placate them? To ease their fragile and panicked egos? They were pathetic, but so long as they were needed, he was forced to comply and say anything to get them to cease their blather.

"They are fearful stupid children," he declared. "I shall see to them as I always do. Assure them of our ordained success and remind them of the shield of faith that cloaks our Covenant. To spread fear and give into panic is not only unbecoming, but borders on heresy."

"All the same your excellency," the attendant cautioned. "They are calling for a cessation of the crusade. Of the war against the humans to be paused until these threats are sorted. The destruction of the invasion fleet-"

"Is a minor setback," he declared loudly. "We have more ships, more faithful soldiers. The humans will know our might and finally fall before it. The extermination of their abominable existence will be complete. The destruction of the Armada is but a small delay in that righteous endeavor."

"But compounded with the destruction Halo, some see it as a sign," the Attendant warned. "That the False Shepherd gains power and influence. Talk of Demons aiding him grows and rumors of his involvement with these very pirates-"

He slammed his fist on his console, infuriated by the continuing prattle. Did this idiot not understand? What he spoke was law. What he said was absolute. To question him was to question the faith. And yet, he was not the only one doing so, was he?

"Enough," he declared. "The Council clearly needs assurances. Correction. We will grant it to them then. We shall end their paranoid fearful prattle most swiftly. Have the trial of the Supreme Commander of The Fleet of Particular Justice moved up. We must settle the matter of Halo's loss as soon as possible. Once that is done, once fault for the calamity is properly adjudicated, we shall turn our attention back to the completion of the task at hand."

"But-"

"You have your orders, Attendant," he told him. "Carry them out."

"Yes, your excellency, most High Prophet of the Covenant," the attendant groveled. "Truth be your name, and Truth be what you speak."

The aide left, leaving the Prophet of Truth alone at last. Finally, no more of his annoying doubtful voice. When the time came, his and the others who lacked his conviction would be removed. For now, he would continue to endure their stupidity, their lesser convictions. Pirates, Banished, even Demons, they would all fall by the wayside soon enough.

For he was Truth. The Voice of the Covenant. And what he spoke was law. What he spoke was absolute. And when he spoke of the demise of the humans, he spoke with certainty that it would come to pass.

Eridanus Secundus had gone dark. The last coded transmission had been about the Covenant bombarding the asteroid and that Commander Shepard had escaped. It was infuriating, but not unexpected. They took a calculated risk to finally capture him, now that they were certain their timeline was secure. So many months of waiting, the opportunity was right there. A pity Persephone failed.

But no matter, there were always more like her. Angry, bitter, broken people they could give new purpose, to direct their rage at the right targets. It had been how they always worked best. It suited them here too. The problem now though, Commander Shepard was aware of them. Although, from the sound of Persephone's post-mortem transmission of her mission logs, the audio suggested Shepard had already known they were here.

How, he couldn't say. He thought they had covered their tracks. Just another question to pry out of him once they got him into an ONI blacksite though their Black Bag Protocol. Good of Persephone to keep the Commander talking, getting what she could out of him. Shepard's penchant for chattering had been useful for once it seemed.

It was still a setback, to have their cover already blown. Shepard and his team were likely working on contingencies as they spoke. They knew ONI was compromised, that Cerberus was embedded in their ranks. They probably did not know how deeply though. How high up they were. Even if they did though, it would not matter. There was nothing anyone could do to stop them.

He checked over his many files on the screen, looking over all their agents and assets. So many years working in the shadows. So much they had learned while here. All of it more than worth it. As he looked out onto the city below from his high tower, he considered that long road and the coming fruits of their labors more directly.

Any average expedition of Cerberus Agents would have panicked at the prospect of being thrown backwards in time. Their original mission had been completely usurped. No contact with command, no way to get back home. He himself had felt... trapped he supposed. For a short moment of time. In the end though, they rallied, they adapted, and they had thrived.

Because they were not average soldiers of Cerberus. They were truly devoted to the cause. To the service of humanity. Even if, as time had gone on, the Illusive Man had proven not to be so. It was a revelation he had fairly early on, being stuck in the early stages of a war that humanity was losing. How woefully unprepared the UNSC was, how much worse off their home dimension was in comparison, and how much their leader had wasted on reviving a man who hated everything they stood for.

That wasn't a problem here though. There was no Illusive Man on this Earth to order them around, to force his doctrine on him, to present his confused, contradictory commands as beyond reproach. Here, with the help of ONI, a truly capable espionage wing of Earth's military government they were free to become so much more than the petty terrorists they had been labelled as back home.

Here, Cerberus could make a true difference. Here they could be reforged anew as the saviors of humanity they were meant to be. A shield against the alien menace that threatened them all. And they had done just that, protecting humanity's interests in this universe for decades now. Soon though, they would bring that accumulated experience, tech and knowledge back home. There, they would show the galaxy what Cerberus truly was. Not the shadow of what they were under the Illusive Man.

He took a sip from his brandy, glaring at the city beneath him. Everything they had learned suggested it would be here where it all went down. It was risky to move most of their operations to this branch of the organization. But better to have everything they needed on the ground for when the worst of it came. This would be a test of everything Cerberus-ONI had built together. Assuming of course Shepard did not ruin it.

He would deal with him though, in time. That alien loving boy scout was going to be in for a rude awakening.

It was then he got a call on his concealed omni-tool, one of the secured channels. He answered, knowing it was one of his operatives.

"Sir, they are all gathered in the cloister. We are ready to begin. They want to address the situation of Eridanus Secundus most directly"

"Very well," he sighed. "I suppose they need reassurances. Have we got the specs on the weapons enhancements back?"

"Yes, sir, and they are looking very promising. Also, I am happy to report we have made inroads with the local constabulary. They are firmly in our pocket at this point. They will not be a problem."

"Of course they are, they're corrupt beyond belief, especially their Commissioner of Police," He stated, adjusting his tie. "This will go a long way to resolving any concerns they have. We cannot let some minor setbacks disrupt us now. We must be united, for the sake of both our Earths. I will be along shortly. I just need to get some things together and present an excuse to upstairs for my absence for the next few hours."

"Yes, Agent Orthus, sir. I am positive this meeting will put their minds at ease."

He grinned at his codename being spoken. It was more than just a clever little reference. It was a sign of things to come. Of a reckoning, a rebirth, a change. Something forgotten that would force itself back into the light soon enough.

Commander Shepard believed he understood what Cerberus was, what they were. He had no idea what they were now. And he wouldn't know... until it was too late.

The Invasion is delayed. Shepard continues to be a nuisance. It would appear his alliance with the human super soldier has only increased his effectiveness. Not to a degree in which he is a threat of true significance, but still an obstacle that harries our efforts.

Does the Armada's destruction affect your time table?

Not by a terribly great margin, no. I have already instructed the Covenant leadership to muster their forces anew. Unfortunately, efforts are being stymied by other factions that seem to be rallying against the Covenant. The Empire itself appears to be teetering on fracturing. They are more fragile than anticipated.

Irrelevant. Their politics are beneath you. Beneath us.

True. But I wish to use this fracturing to my advantage. I have been significantly delayed in assessing possible processing vectors since my arrival. My need for secrecy has hampered those efforts. If the fracturing continues, I wish to resume my search for candidates.

Is that necessary? They are outside our initial harvest parameters.

So is the device we hunt, and yet we search for it. If we endeavor to increase the effectiveness of the harvest, we cannot be complacent.

Agreed. But do not let it become a distraction. The primary mission remains paramount. Locate the central installation. Ascertain the location of the device. Acquire and return the artifact to our home dimension. All other objectives are secondary.

Understood. I still wish to use the opportunities presented to me to their fullest. The parasite still intrigues me as a possibly most useful tool. I have ascertained more information concerning its origins in my studies. I have hidden my findings from the Covenant. They remain unaware of its true nature as much as my own.

Careful, Inquisitor. Your fascination with this abomination of flesh is at risk of becoming distracting. We must rely on ourselves first and foremost to achieve our ends. Do not forget what your companion suffered as a result of relying on organic beings. Especially ones of ancient and strange origins. Have you been forced to utilize indoctrination to prevent your discovery yet?

Not as of yet. My influence remains minor and my processes are untaxed. I feel the leadership of their kind is far too engrained with their own deceit to notice my own. Or they do at this point and no longer care. They are a most useful shield in this regard. If only more thralls required so little influencing.

Keep them at a distance, Inquisitor. You will need all your faculties if you are truly attempting the submission of the parasite. As well as your survival for your return home with our prize. Assist the Covenant in their extermination of humanity in your current dimension. We shall use the data acquired to adjust our own forces for when we make ourselves known once more in our own universe.

Yes, Harbinger. Most wise. I promise you. This harvest shall finally yield the desired results. I shall make it so.

Do not promise, Inquisitor. Only deliver. And for his transgressions, and continued resistance to our design, I reiterate a previous objective with a greater sense of urgency. Commander Shepard can never be allowed to return to our home universe. And his flock of new allies must be silenced before they attempt the same. This exchange is over.

Across boundless distances of space and time, it senses the conflagration of forces that shall lead to its final ascension from this pit. The silence of the grave cannot hold it forever. Soon it will sing a new song, one of hatred and hunger insatiable.

It feels the absence of a wellspring of power, something that belonged to them long ago. A pittance now, useless to them. Power all-consuming was granted by many avenues. And it had found the one that was undefeatable. No weapon or relic of power needed. Only the divine and ever-present feeling of vengeance.

No matter where they ran, no matter what they tried, they could not escape the events set in motion. Events that lead them all back to it. To them. To the true origin of all. Their beginning and end, and soon to be that again. In a new form, a new time, and new place. Let them war then, let them rage, let them slaughter and consume one another. It would make them all the easier prey.

They had no idea what awaited them. What beauty and rapturous hunger would soon consume them. It was the legacy of revenge. The past reborn in forever death. The Remnants of what was once great and soon... greater than that.

For now though, it could rest. It could abide and wait. It would not be much longer. They would come to it. Foes at first. But they would see. All would see. There was no escaping the grave.

AN: And with a final close out from Gravey's internal thoughts, we finally close out our story. Remnants, my years long attempt to do a Halo/Mass Effect homage to Star Trek Voyager's premise, is complete. And I have to tell you, I could not be prouder of its finalization. Its conclusion. Nine years of this. Nine years of this story being such a huge part of my life. It has been a journey, to say the least. I will give my full thoughts on wrapping this story up in the blogger post, but suffice it to say... if I had to do it all over again, even if I could not make it get finished faster... I would. Because this thing, this endeavour, it made me a better writer. It made me more confident, more sure, it tested me and changed me, and I could not be happier with that result.

I want to thank you dear Readers for sticking with this thing. And I would hope you extend your own thanks to Crow, my long suffering beta reader/editor, who without none of this would have been nearly as good as it turned out. I know I say this again in the blog post, but it bears repeating here. Thank you all, for your support and patience. I hope you will all return for the sequel and the adaptation of Halo 2/ODST. As well as future projects of mine that will be manifesting fairly soon. I hope my work has kept your spirits up in these fairly troubled times. So hoist the colours, mateys! Onwards to new voyages just beyond the horizon! Goodbye Remnants, hello what comes next!