Salissa was sitting quietly on top of a ruined building. It was leveled nearly to the ground, but it still provided an elevated location. Her hair was blowing on the wind along with her tattered cape as she just sat there looking calmly at the horizon. This was the worst day she's had since the end of the war. Her fingers twitched as she looked at her cybernetic hands. She could still see the dust from the ruined building on her palms and fingers.

After they were dismissed, she had dashed to the building that had crumbled from their 'adventures' underground to aid in the still ongoing rescue operations. That was a living nightmare she wished never to relive from the war, but sure enough it had happened. She was helping for a while until the work got too fine for her to provide any aid. They required machinery and precision that she couldn't provide so only after that she left, having provided all help she could have... for all it was worth. Now here she sat, the time for the gathering slowly approaching. She had time though, so much time to decide if it was worth it to join in whatever next crazy task they'd have for them. She had her goal to fall behind instead of joining if she wished, but... if she didn't join, would she be able to look herself in the eyes afterwards?

“You appear like you have something heavy on your mind.” She heard a male voice and turned slightly. It was a familiar man, a priest from one of the churches in the area. She'd seen him a few times, they'd talk every now and then. Mostly about her helping him with preaching about tolerance and break up possible smaller fights, not to mention searching for lost children and other minor tasks whenever she wasn't on duty. In fact they met for the first time when she brought a lost child to the church since the priests had better understanding of the people in the area.” Is it connected to the tragic incident from earlier?” He asked and she sighed.

“Yeah... sort of.” She replied, placing a hand on her forehead.” Things were bad... would have been a lot worse if the explosions underground didn't happen.” Salissa added with sad voice.” Horrors people liked to forget would have surfaced, but... despite all it doesn't make it any better... when in the end you go to help dig out those who remain missing with the hope of them surviving by a miracle... Damn... this is just one huge cosmic joke... a joke on the level of a greek tragedy.”

“People in the past often used to say it's all part of god's plan, Salissa.” The priest said, throwing a look at her.” There's rarely such a thing as a perfect outcome. Maybe this truly was meant to happen as it did... We can only find peace in the lives that were saved...”

“Man, you are terrible at this.” She replied finally with a smile and stood up.” Why is it that priests in real life never hold all the right answers like in the movies?” Salissa asked turning and looking at him.” Still thanks for showing up, be careful from now on. I will be leaving Earth... won't be around to scatter those vermin that try to sow discord around your church anymore, but do send me a message if something happens and you need help. I will find a way... we can let evil dance around unchecked.” She said and reached for a handshake which the man took.” Been a pleasure knowing you.” She stated and moved to leave.

“Same here, Salissa. Take care of yourself out there. We need every good person, so don't get killed.” The man replied and caused her to give out a small laugh as she jumped down a few concrete chunks.

After that, Salissa quickly returned to the Alliance housing she was arranged to stay at. It wasn't anything special and frankly she didn't even have any real luggage to grab. Hell all her belonging practically fit in a small doufflebag, All she had beside her armor and her weapons, was a set of clothes, a pair of shoes and her toiletries. With those secured and prepared she just passed by the armory to restock on thermal clips and to get her shield batteries recharged.

Finally, after all preparations were done, she grabbed her bag and left for the meeting place, grabbing a helmet on her way out the base. She'd need it, so she simply hooked it on a magnetic buckle, ready to be used at a later time.” Metropolitan Police Station... huh.” She mumbled heading in that direction. Salissa wondered if there were some who were there already... Well she'd see when she arrives.

If you asked Skarr, people got too bent out of shape over the small stuff. Yes, he wasn't heartless. He would have rather the hatchling humans have lived. He felt the ping of regret about as much as anyone. The difference was, he didn't dwell on it. He'd seen exploding transport ships, ships that he could have saved if he was just the smallest bit faster. He saw the bodies filter out of the ruptured hull, doomed to float into the recesses of space.

If you let that stuff get to you, you were going to have a bad time. It was good to know the mission was a relative success. Hopefully he'd get his first cut soon. He'd conserve his money, but he didn't know how much longer he could pay for his meals with the banks on this planet. Plus he was eyeing the latest series of Claymore guns.

He decided to grab a small meal, merely 5 pounds of what the humans called pork. Earth had quite a lot of odd, albeit tasty livestock. Only dropping two atomic bombs on their soil left alive a lot of critters. Odd the only beasts close to Thresher maw in size were the Elcor looking Elephants, and the marine life called 'Whales.' You'd think a lot of the creatures on this world would be huge.

He filled one of his multiple stomachs with the pork, but found he had little interest in exploring this bastion of civilization. He'd probably break more than he'd care to pay for. So he made his way to the platform, formerly 'New Scotland Yard.' Salissa was the only one there he saw. If he was a younger Krogan, he'd make a joke about her being only the third human to 'mount' him, but as it were he just found he respected her fighting prowess. She seemed unnecessarily tough for a slim human female.

"Good job out there," he told her.

---

---

It felt like Rayes was worrying over Tiberius for hours when it was most likely just minutes, but with the adrenaline-like rush he was still on, time was all messed up for him. It felt like no sooner than they had met the reinforcements did they hear an explosion, which was soon followed by various other events. It had only slowed the husk movements, but enough so that the reinforcements could handle the situation. That was such a relief to the Quarian, taking several deep breaths to calm himself down. He kept telling himself that the danger was over, that everything was fine now, but they honestly did little to settle his mind off the horrors that would flash inside his mind, giving him shivers.

He was glad no one could see his face under the mask, because he felt like he was going to be sick and didn't want to show it. Everyone here had military experience, and if this was what they dealt with in the war than Rayes felt immensely sorry for them. This was more than likely just a taste of what happened on battlefields, and they were only really husks! Keelah... He'd need a drink after this, and could only imagine how everyone else was feeling. It certainly was not his forte, but at least they all made it... so the situation could have been far worse.

But unfortunately, that wishful thinking was cut short when Spectre Anderson began to talk. The first bit of information that struck him as interesting was that they had a full 24 hours until they had to meet at new coordinates. While that was all fine since Rayes had no one he had to say goodbye to, having done so when he came to Earth, he wasn't entirely sure what he could do. He had no items to tinker with, and he wasn't willing to give the one human repairs. Some other person could handle that, but it was not going to be Rayes.

Then, Rayes was directly addressed due to having hacked the information and was, ahem, advised to send the information to the Spectres, along with how they trusted him that he wouldn't leave and run away without doing so. Well, he certainly wasn't going to run away and bail at this point, and while he was slightly happy they seemed to trust him on doing so, it also caught him as odd. They placed a lot of faith on a Quarian they only met, but then again, they most likely had seen a dossier on him. Whatever the case, he nodded to Anderson before sending them a majority of what he had gathered... Every last detail excluding the fact that he had transferred the funds he had managed to track into a private account. Instead, he placed a line that read: 'Regarding the funds, I wish to speak to the both of you about them. It is rather important that I may discuss with both of you in private when I come back tomorrow.' He felt that was sufficient enough, and besides, it was not like he could spend all those credits in one night. Though, since he had 24 hours with nowhere to stay... He'd most likely use a small portion to find a place to stay for the night, seeing as he was stranded on Earth. Like compensation.

Regardless, there was also other news. The explosion caused casualties due to tenement collapsing, but in Rayes' eyes, it could have been much worse. If Cerberus had managed to release those husks without anyone's knowledge, not just the people in the tenement but an unthinkable number of civilians would have died. There could have been other solutions, but they had done their best with damage control... Hopefully the families died together... Rayes could not imagine a broken family, suffering from his actions... He'd definitely need a drink.

He decided it would be best if he went to the spaceport and catch a shuttle to the Citadel, seeing as it was still around Earth. At least there he could get a drink without having to worry about bosh'tet humans poisoning him because they were xenophobic...

He'd also have to remember to buy plenty of toxin filters.

He could also rent a room for the night up there as well. It would certainly be better than, well, whatever the humans would provide him. Probably shove him in a closet and say it's a luxury suite at this rate...

With his mind made up, he gave everyone a rather disheartened wave of goodbyes before walking off towards the direction of the spaceport, hands in the pockets on the inside of his cloak. This day was gonna be a long, forgotten, bad dream by the time it was over.

As a collection of Alliance troops started to clear the tunnel and rescue the failing squadron that was Katabasis, Sicaria lowered her weapon and let them take care of whatever was left in the now sealed off chamber. With little else to do now, she took her captive scientist by the arm and started heading towards the light. There was probably something incredibly symbolic about this action, she disregarded it as a few injuries made themselves known now that the adrenaline was wearing off. "Ugh, can't believe I didn't notice that earlier..." Though she couldn't quite see it, she could feel some kind of wound on her right arm start to pulse.

While she surfaced, she tossed the Cerberus woman into the hands of a couple marines before removing the makeshift mask that had arguably saved her life. She brought the strip of cloth down from her face before turning it over and finding it caked with a mixture of various colors of blood and a consistent earthy brown the whole thing over. "Shit, I'm gonna be coughing this up for a week." She chucked to herself slightly, which broke into a fit of coughing with a small brownish cloud getting pushed out of her mouth with each hack. On top of that, an amount of phlegm was sent out and onto the ground along with the last one in a series of around eight. Following this, she started to pat down her armor to remove whatever grime had accumulated on it from the explosions, including a quick wipe of the hands across her face to show off her tattoos again.

The sound of a pressure seal breaking emerged from Sicaria's flank, and into view walked a now familiar krogan, battered and bloodied armour dominating his frame and his helmet in hand. It was the first time any of Katabasis would see his face. "I don't know what you're complaining about, I'm fine." he said cheekily, inhaling the relatively clean London air with a deep lungful and letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Hell of a fight. Been too long since I've been in a scrap like that. You?" he asked.

Everything happened in such a blur leading up to this moment. It felt like it had only been minutes ago when the team had reestablished the line after blowing the charges, and now they were relieved by local authorities and Systems Alliance troops that had been stationed semi-permanently in the city since the war. The entire team looked weary; it was quite the unexpected first assignment, no one had expected to see the Reapers again. It had been quite a few months before his own sweeps had unearthed anything. How in the hell did Cerberus wrangle up over two thousand Husks? It would be a rather interesting after-action report, to say the least.

The Turian looked up in time to see one of the Krogan pass by, already taking his helmet off and bearing a few new scars from the conflict they had just muscled through. She had to roll her eyes at the first comment he made, though she pulled back her left mandible in a smirk at the second one. "Last time I got sent into a hellhole like that was that conquest to take back Earth. I would've liked a couple years before reliving that, but, well, here we are." She visibly splayed both the appendages on the side of her face in the equivalent of a shrug before checking her wounded arm. Quite the gash had been opened up in the top of it, probably from when the Infiltration Team had been retreating and a husk had made a grab at her. Turns out it made contact after all. "Wouldn't have any medi-gel on you, by chance?" She gave the Krogan a look that suggested a general lack of urgency for the circumstances.

"'fraid not. I tend to just let my regeneration do the dirty work, others don't usually factor into it. Hang on, I've got something." he said, breaking off to stomp towards a pair of humans wearing paramedic fatigues. While Sicaria was out out earshot, the startled body expressions of the heavily armed and armoured krogan bearing down on the much smaller humans was unmistakable. A few moments later, he returned with a package in hand, offering it over. "Turns out they were going to make the rounds anyways. I guess I just sped things up." he said with a shrug. An empty thermal clip made its way loose from between his armour plating on his arm, it certainly accounted for the burning smell that had been persistent since he took his helmet off. He looked at Sicaria with a somewhat piqued interest. "I fought here in the last few months of the war, for another Specter, as a matter of fact. You and I both know what would have happened if those freaks got out of the tunnels and to the surface."

Sicaria took the gel and nodded her thanks to the Krogan, breaking open the package and slathering some of the cool material on her arm. The bleeding stopped within seconds thanks to it, and she tied off what was left of the medicine in the bag before setting it down. At this point, she noticed the burning smell and the clip that had found its way out of his armor. "...I''m not gonna ask how that got caught in there." She found curb to take a seat on while she listened to the Krogan speak, and let her long legs spill out into the barren street while Anderson was getting in position to address the team. "I was in Vancouver for about two weeks... I'm sure the city was beautiful before the Reapers showed up, but I was surprised that most of the buildings were left standing. It was like they were trying to preserve most of them. But yeah, lotta people would've died if we didn't go down there."

The krogan shrugged, a largely immobile object in a suddenly dynamic environment as bodies fluttered about. "Honestly, everywhere I've lived for any length of time has been destroyed by war. Tuchanka, Anhur, Earth. It all starts to look the same after a while, only difference is the Reapers didn't tend to flatten cities when there was harvesting to be done." he replied to the turian, following the violet lines of her facial tattoos that crossed her carapace. Beside them, Anderson was rounding the team up for a debriefing. "Oh, this will be good." he said, offering a hand to help Sicaria to her feet.

The two joined the others as the Spectres began their speech, the human of the two taking the lead. The standard expected ground was covered, 24 hours to get shit squared away and say goodbye to Earth, this was the last chance to back out, be at the designated coordinates or be left out. Rykarn was only half listening; he was already committed to the mission and didn't have anything worth mentioning to deal with before going off on a potentially dangerous and certainly exciting assignment with the Spectres, who always seemed to find the interesting jobs on account of an utter lack of red tape and accountability. As a krogan, it spelled out a good time.

Less so was the news that the explosion, the one Rykarn had a direct hand in setting off, collapsed an apartment building and potentially killed 11 people. The krogan didn't really react past a slow blink, his amber eyes not betraying any emotion past the usual reptilian-like stare that made all krogan look about as friendly as being held up by a shotgun. It was a damn shame, of course. You don't go through the most deadly and genocidal war in galactic history and expect to die a year later via violent building collapse, but this was on Cerberus. If the Husks got out, things would have been a lot worse, especially since it could be days, if not weeks, before all of the monsters were accounted for. Katabasis were, supposedly, professional soldiers and mercenaries and they'd barely survived the onslaught. Some elderly woman crossing the street wouldn't fare as well trying to get away from the Husks. Or school yards full of children. Anything, really. The really annoying thing about the Reapers' thralls were that they never tired, and seemed to be endless in number. It's why Rykarn was rather fond of explosions. Even if they weren't fully disabled, it was a lot harder to chew your ankles off if you only had one arm to pull yourself along and half a torso.

Even if everyone had been in the building at the time, and if Rykarn knew it, he still would have triggered the explosion. A handful of casualties was the price of a war that didn't have a firm ending date, considering the enemy they faced. As far as Rykarn was concerned, the war probably wouldn't be over until every last Husk was exterminated from the galaxy. Who knew when that would be?

Partinax and Anderson dismissed everyone to go file their report. It certainly killed the spoils of victory.

"Uplifting." he grunted to the turian next to him.

Sicaria had grabbed the Krogan's hand when he offered it, standing back up at the protest of her sore legs. While she had done it for most of her life, there was something about running through a horde of husks that made someone unusually fatigued. "Thanks..." In step with her companion, she joined the others in listening to the Spectres.

For her, there wasn't much shock, Turian culture often demanded sacrifices for the greater good. It was bad enough that civilians had to die, let alone a child, but that's how it was. Just another psychological scar on an already marred mind. Without much ceremony, the two Spectres left to finish their business.

"Something like that... hey, I never got your name. Mine's Sicaria." The Turian crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her left leg, head turning to get a better look at the Krogan beside her. He certainly wasn't ancient, or frankly that old by their standards, though numerous scars coated what she could see that wasn't obstructed by armor. He had been through hell and back like all of them, it seemed.

The large crested head nodded curtly. "Rykarn of Clan Ravanor. I've found with aliens, I need to specify that's my clan name and not my first name. Apparently there's some confusion, or ignorance about krogan no matter where you go." he grinned tersely. "At least it's not a salarian name; pretty sure they name their kids down to the street they were born on and what the mother was eating when she popped out a clutch of eggs."

The distinctive sound of a Turian chuckle followed Rykarn's generalization about Salarians, even though she didn't exactly see it the same way. She did understand that line of thought, though. "Didn't you have half a generation of females named after a certain Salarian biologist?" A mandible was pulled in a smirk once again, though she quickly let it fall back into cover the side of her mouth.

The krogan grunted in exasperation. "Don't remind me. Go to Tuchanka any time in the next decade, and anything adolescent is probably going to be named after that guy. You might be able to convince some people you're clairvoyant if you guess right.", he shook his head, looking at where the emergency crews were working at excavating the collapsed building. "You know, I spent the last year rebuilding this stupid city. Never thought I'd be the one trashing it again. I feel obligated to help."

Sicaria nodded in response, shifting her weight between legs once again. "Yeah, we probably should help out. Make up for the kid we killed, at the very least." Without waiting for a cue, she started off in the direction of the wrecked building, finally remembering to deactivate her tech armor while she went. "Not sure if anyone's brought it up yet, but I wanna thank your people for saving Palaven. None of my higher-ups will admit it, but you really pulled our asses out of the fire." She stated, her hands finding their ways to the top of her head while she walked.

Rykarn walked in pace, eyes darting about has they walked towards the blinking emergency lights and sirens. Situational awareness was something that became hardwired into someone after literal decades of conflict; it wasn't something you just turned off. When Sicaria thanked the krogan, and in extension Rykarn, for their part in liberating Palaven, that caught him off guard. He wasn't used to being thanked for much, and a turian expressing sincere gratitude for help, unprompted no less, was most unexpected. "Your people helped us cure the genophage, it bought a lot of goodwill." the krogan replied, a single eye looking back at Sicaria.

"I'm not like a lot of krogan and blame turians who are alive for unleashing that nightmare on my people, but some of my kin are. You might have been desperate for help to help us do that before we helped you, but it did a lot to build our trust. We were free, for the first time in centuries, and believe me, krogan love killing monsters and being celebrated for it. Killing rachni all over again made me feel connected to my ancestors." Rykarn let out a low, rumbling chuckle, bemused at the connection he'd long ago made as he unleashed hell on Ravagers. "I never expected I'd ever step foot on the turian homeworld, let alone fight alongside your people, but it turns out we both are really good at fighting. All these years being pitted against each other, hell, look at what we did when we were aiming the same way. I respect you turians; you gave us krogan a second chance and you ate your pride enough to ask us for help, no matter the cost. Mighty praise coming from a species renown for considering the inhalation of an entire company a victory if the bad guy dies first." he said, smashing his fist into an open palm. "We even smashed moons, actual moons! Into your colonies and that just made you fight harder. Made me curious about humans, though. Relay 314 incident and the new kid on the block gives you a bloody nose."

At the mention of a bloody nose, Sicaria unconsciously scratched some dried blood from her upper lip, though let out a short laugh otherwise. "Yeah, we underestimated humanity. They're tougher than we thought, whole thing shouldn't've happened." She sighed happily, almost as if she was reliving a fond memory while talking about their first contact with Humans. "You're right about that, though. You hit us, we hit back harder. And it just keeps going until someone's either knocked out or dead on the floor." With a smirk returning, she looked up at the night sky while she walked. After a short moment of silence, jabbed two fingers of her right hand up towards the emptiness overhead. "Reapers learned that the hard way."

"They're dead. We ain't. Superior species, my ass. Only thing that made them worth anything was the billions of lives they harvested. I wouldn't feel bad about the humans taking a hit and dishing one back harder; it was a human that united the galaxy and personally killed off the Reapers. Who would have thought? Been around the galaxy less than four decades and they're the ones that fix everything." Rykarn said, following Sicaria's gesture upwards. It was hard to make out any stars in the glowing noise of the city lights drowned out the sky beyond, but the gesture got the point across. "So, what do you think happens now? Humans have the Citadel parked at their doorstep and they've been pushing their way up the food chain like, well, we tried to. Won't be long until the entire galaxy's back to shooting at each other."

"Now? Now, everyone else gets back to living while we pick up the dirty work." The Turian looked back down as she started to descend into the sizable crater they had managed to create not even an hour ago. Up close, the building they had taken down was still crumbling slowly, bits of dust and rubble falling from what was left standing. She had to hand it to them, Humans could build solid structures, but it would be a matter of time until the last standing walls were bulldozed and replaced. "Doesn't really matter where the Citadel is, though. It was considered Asari space until the Salarians found it. Even then, they ended up with equal influence, not much of a reason for it to change now."

The building looked like an entrapment and deadly hazard if Rykarn had ever seen one. It would be terribly ironic if this was what did him in after everything he'd been through to cause the collapse. "Oh, it matters. Imagine if the Citadel was in the Terminus Systems, or even the Traverse. Everything would start to gravitate around those regions, and all of the bullcrap that comes with it." Rykarn said, shaking his head. "Used to be the Citadel was parked right next door to the original Council races' territory. Everyone had to go to them. Now it's stuck in the Sol system with a few relay jumps through human space to get to it. Add that with the fact that it was humans that saved the Citadel when Sovereign attacked, delaying the Reaper invasion for a few years, and that it was the humans that united the galaxy to crush the Reapers... well, you'd be ignorant to think that someone's not going to try to take advantage of that. Just wait until talks about relocating the station come up. The smiles hide the knives, is all I'm saying."

Sicaria took a moment to think before responding, carefully taking steps towards the rescue team that was already on site. Things were already bad enough here, and she didn't wanna be responsible for destabilizing what foundation there was left. The distinct flanging on her voice broke the silence after a long moment. "Never heard that before, but you've got a point. Humans do have the greatest influence on what's left of the galaxy, but if everyone ends up looking out for themselves like you say, the Council vote's still gonna be three to one." Her mandibles stretched again as the pair got closer to where excavations were taking place. "Yeah, Asari would want it put back for historical reasons, Salarians to take a tactical advantage away. We'd go for it either out of spite since our Councilor was alive during Relay 314, or for the same reason as Salarians. Humans are the only ones that directly benefit from the Citadel being this close, no one else will allow it."

"Of course not, but that doesn't mean everyone's going to play by the rules. Call me paranoid, but being cast as the galaxy's villain for centuries gives us krogan a rather pessimistic outlook on galactic affairs." Rykarn said, zeroing in on an officer who looked like they were coordinating the rescue efforts. "I mean, I'm fine with passing that particular torch off to someone else for a while." he said, approaching the officer. who was going through some blueprints on a table, a pistol and a thermos holding both ends open. Rykarn was surprised; people actually kept paper copies of things still?

The man looked up. "Can I help you?"

"No. But we can help you. I can lift things that you'd need heavy equipment to do, and you don't run the risk of trashing tens of thousands of credits worth of gear if the rubble shifts on me. My companion is equally prepared to lend a hand." The krogan said.

"Mhmm, I'm light enough to not disturb anything and I can get in those hard to reach places. I have some light biotics if they're needed, by the way." Taking a short moment to pause, she sat down on the remains of a block that had gone into the whole of the building. She then leaned forward and clasped her hands together, looking up at the Human that was in charge. "So do we know where the last eleven are? Or are we taking shots in the dark at this point?"

"Shots in the dark, I'm afraid. Different floors, different sides of the buildings. They could be anywhere." The man said, resigned. "Look, I'm not supposed to let just anyone on the site, it's dangerous... but the emergency crews are spread thin. I want to say yes, but..."

Rykarn dug into a compartment on his armour and produced an identification chit. "Official enough? I've been here on contract since the war ended to assist in rebuilding after the war. This is a part of that contract." the krogan said. The officer took the chit, looked it over, and looked visibly relieved.

"Well, at least you know the risks. Go on, then, but please, for the love of god, be careful." the officer said, gesturing towards the entryway in the hastily erected barricade. Rykarn lead Sicaria through and soon enough, they were standing on what was more or less the side of the building. The whole thing looked like the ground tried to swallow it and choked. He gestured at the opposite corner. "There's some loose shit over there that doesn't look too busy. I'd say that's a good place to start."

Now even closer to the site of destruction, Sicaria let out a low whistle in both admiration and guilt. "We really fucked up... but yeah, let's get to work on this. With any luck, they're all holed up in an apartment that didn't collapse in on itself." The Turian cracked her knuckles before heading for the corner indicated by Rykarn, her arms turning a pleasant purple while she started to ready some controlled biotics. She wasn't the strongest with them, but she had the control expected of a Cabal.

Once close enough, she started to clear away and relocate layers of rubble, watching closely for signs of a coming collapse or human-shaped figures. Whichever came first, really.

The duo worked for over half-an hour before speaking again when Rykarn paused moving his pile of rubble by hand without sign of a casualty, just a few picture frames and a pulverized couch thus far. He became curious about Sicaria's biotics; it was rare for a turian to have them. "So, biotics. Don't turians segregate biotics from society? You're one of the few I've ever seen." he said, hurling a torso-sized chunk of wall towards the perimeter of the ruin with a crash.

Just as Sicaria was starting to feel the strain of extended biotic usage on her, Rykarn finally broke the silence. She perked up noticably now that she had someone to talk to, and the slowly growing feelings of fatigue faded just as quick as that had come. "The Heirarchy does for military purposes, but beyond that, no. And you don't really see many since Cabals are essentially the Turian equivalent to Asari Justicars, or Krogan Shamans. Rarely leave our own space, usually keep to ourselves, all that."

She paused a moment as the next layer of wreckage was cleared away, and a pair of boots showed themselves. With a triumphant smirk, she turned to the Krogan that was close by. "You could call me an exception, in that regard. I like getting to know people on more... intimate, levels." She turned away and rushed towards the pair of footwear that was half-buried, then began to carefully push rubble to the side with her clawed hands.

"Oh? That why you're hanging around me? And here I thought you were just in it to help make amends." Rykarn replied, grinning as he followed along to see what Sicaria found. "I guess we'll found out soon enough of those are still attached to their owners." he remarked, taking a knee to help the turian clear away the crap that covered the boots and their potential owner.

It took a few breathless moments of pulling debris away by hand, but soon enough a body that was connected to the boots was uncovered. The Human was caked in a thick layer of dust and dirt, though from gentle rising and falling of his chest, he was in better shape than most. "Stay right here, I'll be back with a couple medics." With a light pat on Rykarn's shoulder, she was off and running for the command post.

Not even five minutes later, she was back with the promised paramedics. While the pair set to work, the Turian took the chance to rest for a moment by crouching down beside the Krogan. "Don't know about you, but I need some sleep after this." She paused in the line of dialog, dialog, mouth hanging open with a sigh. "If I don't have any new nightmares from this, that is."

Rykarn let out a deep, slow chuckle. "There'll be time to sleep on the bloody ship. I intend to claim what's left on my bar tab. Hell, I'll even be nice and buy you a round or three. Nothing like getting inebriated and tearing up a bar as a send off for a planet. I'm banned from drinking in..." he drummed his fingers. "Fifteen establishment! Want to make it sixteen? Besides, you can't get nightmares if you don't sleep. Makes sense to me."

"Heh, I wouldn't mind getting plastered after this. I'll take you up on that offer, if you can find anything that won't make me sick right away, that is." Sicaria set her hands on her knees and pushed herself up to stand, her omni-tool flashing to life about halfway up. Without much thought, she looked down and noticed she had a list of messages piled up, all from the same person: Vetia.

She silently cursed at herself for not checking sooner, though under the circumstances, it would've made sense for her not to. Well... what's a few more hours of radio silence? "Ready whenever you are, Rykarn." She spun around on her right foot to face him, awaiting his movement.

"We saved one person. Totally makes up for bringing their house down on their head." he replied with a shrug. "I know just the place, and it ain't far from here." he said, navigating his way down the rubble. Moments later, they were out in the streets again, more rescue workers arriving as they were departing, and heading down the street.

True to his word, within the next fifteen minutes, a familiar building loomed in front of them, the double wooden doors, while old-style and perhaps a bit tacky, were inviting to certain sensibilities. The man puking into a trashcan, the very same one Rykarn had deposited his assailant from earlier, was less inviting. "Welcome to Regent Park Pub. It's one of the first things us city restoration types got up and running after the war because nothing makes a person want to drink away their problems like galactic genocide. There's a few turian regulars, so don't worry about the menu." he said, leading Sicaria through the doors into the dimly lit establishment, most of the illumination coming from several large vid screens, and to the bar, where Rykarn handed the barkeep his ID. A frothy beer was soon deposited infront of him.

The krogan grunted. "And there goes my ration limit. Think the Spectres will sponsor an open bar on the ship, or are we stuck eating freeze dried paste for weeks at a time?" he said, tossing the drink back in a single gulp.

Sicaria followed her Krogan companion into the pub, not really paying attention to him for a brief moment. Even if it had been recently rebuilt, it still felt as musty as it probably was three-hundred years ago, though this wasn't an unwelcome feeling. Up on the vid screens was what anyone would expect of an establishment like this; sporting events, galactic news, and not much else.

She clued back into the conversation as she sat down at the bar, handing over her ID a short second after Rykarn had. In return, she recieved an oddly colored beverage that would clearly have a similar effect as Ryncol on a Human. "You've had to ration alcohol planetside? There's too much of the stuff on the Citadel, clubs can't sell enough of it." Wanting to make the first drink of the night last awhile, she took and experimental sip of hers.

"Kind of. Supply is always hit and miss, the rations were more for the workers. One a day, as long as you show your card. I took a new job, so I'm cut off from the perks of unfucking a city. So you've been living on the Citadel, then? I always found there to be something... off about that place, and I don't mean the fact it was a Reaper death trap in disguise." Rykarn said, his second drink, this one smelling strongly enough to be confused with medical disinfectant, sliding up. "Everything on the station just feels fake, and some of those wards are less pleasant than some corners of Omega. I like the air planetside, the weather. I also like the idea of not paying for a room only to have the entire thing rearranged by a Keeper when you're sleeping. I hate those things."

Taking a much smaller drink this time around, he looked at the turian square on, leaning against the bar. "So, what is it about you that makes Spectres feel you're special compared to all the other suckers currently looking for work who know what end of a gun is the dangerous end?" he asked.

The Turian paused for a second, eyes flicking to the left corner to watch the Krogan turn to her while she sipped her drink. She set it down as he finished asking his question, taking a moment to come up with a valid response. "Honestly, I don't know. I'm technically still wanted by the Hierarchy for desertion, maybe it has to do with that." She drummed on the counter with her left hand for a brief second, trying to think deeper in the matter. "I'm a weak biotic by comparison, might be my record during the Invasion that pulled me into this. Spent most of it in close quarters with the Reapers, clearing buildings and tunnels. I think the term Humans use is a tunnel mouse, or something like that."

"Tunnel rat. Heard that term thrown around a lot when I was clearing out the metro from Husks the past few months" Rykarn confirmed with a couple short nods. "I'm sure you had your reasons for deserting. Just proves you're one of the few turians who aren't a tightass. So, what exactly did you do during the war?" Rykarn asked, resting both elbows on the bar counter. "When the war broke out, I returned to Tuchanka to find my brother. Figured if the world's gonna end, might as well be doing it with my own people. I joined my brother's krantt and fought the Reapers there until the genophage was cured, and since you turians helped us out, I'd return the favour so I volunteered to go fight on Palaven, and then off here to London. Been here ever since, worked with a Spectre during the war. Guess he put in a good word for me. That's the long and short of why I'm here, ass deep in Husk corpses and wondering how long it'll be before the asari gets us all killed." he concluded, his tone bemused.

Sicaria listened to Rykarn's story in silence, nodding and occasionally taking sips of her drink. When he finished his tale, she intertwined her fingers and let her hands drop onto the bar. "Can't say I moved around that much overall, but I was on vacation in the Caribbean when this started. I swear, my heart never beat so fast in my life, but I got off world and went straight for Palaven. I got stationed in Cipritine and I got one order: Hold the city. If we found a tunnel they'd carved out to get behind our lines, I went in with two others to clear it. Someone always died down there, lost some good friends... then you got sent in and our capital's still in one piece after all that. With Palaven locked down, I got sent to Vacouver for a couple weeks, and it was pretty much the same thing there. Just with buildings." She looked down into her half-finished beverage, falling totally silent while she remembered the faces of those that died beside her.

Rykarn held up his glass. "To the ones we lost along the way." he toasted, downing the drink. Considering how strong it was, he didn't react much. It was probably an indication of both the strength of what krogan brewed on Tuchanka and how undiscriminating they were when it came to what they consumed. "Sorry about your friends. I've lost a lot of people along the way, too, but I guess it's different for krogan. We've existed for so long with the genophage that most of us gave up on hope for a future, and death's about as common as Aralah rising and setting each day. None of us expect to die of old age... there's some debate whether or not that's even possible for us. Some krogan have been around since the Krogan Rebellions, to give you an idea. We're built to last, but it doesn't mean we do." he said, pulling a bowl of crunchy stale peanuts towards him.

"So, I fully expect to die violently and wouldn't have it any other way. Rather not have my four hearts slowly give out or some shit. I don't really know how you non-krogan or asari aliens get anything done in the short lives you have. I'd be a senior citizen if I were a turian, but I'm still in the early stretch of centuries of being in my prime. Plenty of time to work things out... I probably won't even remember this whole Reaper ordeal in a century or two."

"To those we lost along the way." She threw her head back and downed the rest of her drink in a couple gulps, the glass getting set on the counter immediately afterwards with a distinct, empty clack. "And I swear, if you somehow forget all this happened, my spirit will be there to smack the memories back into you." Rather than speak in a light-hearted tone, she seemed deathly serious now. She leaned forward and waved the bartender over, who promptly replaced her drink.

"Y'know when I said I was gonna get plastered I meant it, right?"

"Do you remember what happened when you were 12? How about twenty years from now?" Rykarn asked rhetorically. "To be blunt, the war just put other planets on a similar playing field as Tuchanka has been on since we made the goddamn atomic bomb. Ever since I hatched, all I've known is war-torn hellscapes and survival. Our population never grew, it only decreased. Krogan were always killing each other, and most would be mothers never had a single egg hatch. There were literally hundreds of eggs in my clutch; only my brother and I hatched. If I do remember the Reaper war in a few hundred years out of the countless wars to come, it'll be because the genophage ended." he said, signalling for another glass. "Guess that's up to you to make an impression that lasts longer than any of you turians are going to be alive, huh? Maybe leave me a tape. I like movies."

"But that's hundreds of years from now, why worry about it? What matters now is you fulfill your duty for the greater good and drink with me until my credit account hurts." He grinned, holding his glass out to cheers.

"I will say Rykarn, you make a good point. I'll make sure to leave you a momento before I die." Without much more to say, the odd pair of a Turian and Krogan clinked glasses. "Cheers."

The Cannibal turned it’s head to a peculiar sound. It screeched and moaned at the stranger, threateningly clawing at it. A little piece of non-huskified brain inside of it recognised the stranger for what it was. A Batarian. A proud four-eyed race, one that they were once apart of. They remembered the love and pride they had whenever it’s name was spoken. The Hegemony. The mighty people under the powerful government. What were they before this emptiness? Were they Batarian? Were they Human? What is a Turian? These last independent thoughts struggled to be realised, the huskification hitting harder and harder. Extreme pain was felt, it’s only release was the stranger’s death. They ran but as they ran they remembered something. A fleeting last thought in the independent’s mind, something so utterly useless that it was deemed too mundane for the huskification to repress. Did the new Blasto movie come out?

Ja’Far emptied the last thermal clip of his Incisor into a charging Cannibal, the last of the previous group of husks, downing it with one last burst before the gun overheated. He released a sigh before scratching his upper brow, desperately needing a cigar. The temptation was great, frustration building in him as searing pain and endless waves of enemies grated into his patience. He kept his discipline however, folding his rifle away as a group of husks were heading in his direction. He armed himself for close combat, bringing out his knife and Carnifex before marching towards them. His breathing was ragged and his steps were not in time but he kept the look of a model soldier, heading towards the group as they were in the way between him and his destination. He came into contact with them soon enough.

Blood sprayed onto synth-material, dripping all over the metal properties of an armoured torso. Ja'Far grimaced as he twisted his knife into the husk's gut before pushing the creature off his knife. The movement opened the cuts on his back even more, making him twitch automatically. The injuries worsened with every movement, cuts opening further and further as he charged forward back into cover. He parried a swing at him with his right arm before pummelling the offender with pistol strikes to the head and torso. His left hand held his knife, eviscerating another husk's throat as it charged against him. More green liquid covered his arm, hoping that none of the poisonous blood got through to the cuts on him back.

The Boogeyman slashed, stabbed and shot his way through a small crowd of half-a-dozen husks, covering himself in enemy gore. He shot the last husk in the head, emptying the last round in his Carnifex before slumping against a crate a little separated from the crates Taskforce Katabasis used for cover, breathing hard. He looked like a mess. Bits of synthetic flesh stuck to his armour, some of the greenish enemy blood mixed with his own, dripping down his body. He tried to calm himself, heart rate increasing rapidly as he bled more and more. He muttered prayer under his breath, reloading his Carnifex as more husks approached his isolated position. He had finally reached the group but was currently being isolated by the horde as a wounded target. He was going to survive, he was sure of that but in one whole? The open maws of the huskified animated corpses made him unsure.

”Oh holy Divine Pillar of Strength, give miń powerful sword unto me, so that I shalt vanquish miń enemies under thine blessing.” Ja’Far aimed his pistol from his position on the ground, leaning against the crate. He struggled to keep his breathing even but his aim kept true, the shot finding the head of a charging husk. Shot after shot, he downed four husks with one clip’s worth of ammunition, clipping a couple of them on the shoulder. They closed the distance, five husks trying to rip him to shreds. He reloaded as calmly as he could, forcing his shaking hands into control before downing four out of the five, the last one crawling towards him with only one leg. The other lay to the side but the monster kept coming, crawling on the ground, desperate to maim and kill. He kicked it repeatedly in the head, viciously turning it’s head into something similar to a broken human watermelon. He ignored how damp and war his right foot was, retracting it from the lying corpse.

There was a pause, many of the husks avoiding the former Legionnaire, keeping little distance between him and them. This pause in fighting caused the Batarian to look around, seeing how everyone was doing. It seemed as though that many of the Taskforce had been fighting their own battles, some in pairs while others on their lonesome. He briefly compared this to his old squad, how closely they worked together to cover each other's back and how the Taskforce were functioning was almost the exact opposite. He mentally shook his head. They were a young team, some of them didn't know each other. There is no point in criticising team co-ordination so soon. However, as he surveyed the battlefield just as Rykarn aimed for the shot, movement to his right made his head swivel around.

A husk lunged at Ja’Far just as a shockwave tried to sweep everyone off their feet. Thankfully, he stabilised himself with his right arm on the ground but the husk, who was mid air at the time, flew off into the distance. He swore, cursing the younger Krogan for blowing the explosives much too early. The helmet kept him from the dangers of dust but he had to split his legs wide open to avoid debris from the ceiling. Hearing Aegon’s order for a final explosion, he scooched over along the storage container’s edge taking cover on the side that faced away from the entrance. The second blast came just as surrounding husks got to their feet, blowing them away once more. More debris fell, dust covering every surface, some reaching his open wounds. He swore, hoping that none of it actually infected the cuts before attempting to rise to his feet, trying to group up with the Taskforce.

He fell on one knee, the searing white pain on his back proving too much to stand. Another husk crawled towards him, moaning and screeching with spite and malice, it’s legs crushed by heavy debris. It kept reaching towards him, inching closer and closer. With no more thermals, he raised his knife, preparing for a piercing blow on it’s head. A quick stomp ended its life and he raised his eyes to meet a friendly metallic one. He smiled, reaching his hand out as the first of the reinforcements filed into the room. ”Ah, Phalanx. A sight for sore eyes.”

Phalanx looked down upon the battered Batarian, its own body a bit on the mangled side as white liquid streamed and dripped from its synthetic form. Still it knelt down a bit with a hand outstretched and grasping the offered hand. Assisting in the organic lifeform back on his feet. The battle had been a quite the unpredictable adventure, but never the less the entire squad seemed to have survived. The explosions caused a little complications with the already current damage the Geth had sustained, but otherwise was filtering the dusty smoke air quite a bit better than its companions.

"I do hope your optical nerves are not further damaged, Ja'Far Balak. Will you require assistance in movement?" it responded as it examined Ja'Far, noting the Batarian had taken quite a few injuries. The others seemed to have sustained damage as well but where handling them well with the assistance of one another.

The renowned Boogeyman huffed, almost unwilling to be helped. However, he stuffed it down and let himself be pulled up by the towering Geth. His pride may be hurt but there was no use crawling out of this little hellhole of an engagement. He looked around as a group of Alliance soldiers, led by someone familiar to Anderson he noted, take down the rest of the surviving husks. With brutal efficiency, they shot them down like a team. He had always respected how the Alliance could work their soldiers. He could see the individual merits of each person in the squad but they worked as one. Teamwork, honed from years of working together in the field. After the Reaper War, every soldier became brothers and sisters. It was nostalgic to look at. Unlike the rabble that presented themselves as Katabasis, these people were a team. He scratched his upper brow before slapping Phalanx on the back, indicating it to move with him. ”C’mon Phalanx, let's get outta here. I think there's gonna be medi-gel outside.” They moved in step with one another, the old gruff Batarian limping next to the mechanical precise marching.

As they walked further and further away from the fighting, Phalanx asked a simple question ”Would you want this platform to carry you, Ja’Far Balak?” as they walked side by side, wrapping a arm around the smaller statured organic to assist in movement. Although it did ask, its calculating eye watched the old Batarian for a moment before both of its arms swooped the organic off his feet into being carried bridal style as it were. He sputtered, surprised at the fluidity of the motion. Some of its white conductive fluid flowing onto its comrade, but Phalanx to appear to mind currently ‘bleeding’ as it carried its comrade in its precise stride. When they reached outside, Phalanx set Ja’Far Balak on a rock to rest upon as some of the Alliance Medics came to assist in treatment. He muttered a little thanks under his breath, the Batarian equivalent of a blush on his face.

Most hesitated as they came upon the Geth however. Uncertainty as the tall mechanical form watched them. Perhaps intimidating to them, but to Phalanx it was just watching them curiously instead of threatenly. Hard to tell when it doesn’t have the same facial structure most organics possess. It was possible they were unsure how to exactly treat a synthetic lifeform. Phalanx was a robot, and most have experience in shooting Geth rather than treating them. However, Geth were made both of metal and synthetic tissue that resembled organic muscle. Omni-Gel was still sufficient in medicating a Geth platform.

Phalanx did moved its omni-tool over its mechanical body in order to assist in repairing its electronics. Watching their Commander speak, the Geth silently listened as Anderson gave the news, both the good and the bad. Phalanx didn’t appear to react, its eye just watchful. Logically, it knew that there was very little choice in the situation. No matter the cost, they had to put an end to the Husk horde or casualties would be even worse. The Geth knew it was possible with the explosives that there would be casualties above. Options were limited however. Despite that, Phalanx’s metal flaps around its eye slightly twitched. Silently listening to the instructions of the meeting place and the time before everyone sort of went about their business.

The soldier who was next to Phalanx seemed to be in meditation. He closed his three eyes and began to mutter prayers under his breath. Curious, the Geth would note. Ja’Far Balak sat in a cross legged position, his arms resting on his knees. It was brief and quick, his eyes however remained closed. A prayer ? A sort of ritual after battle? It averted it’s vision away from the Batarian, remembering that prolonged observation during prayers could cause offense amongst organics.

Normally, Phalanx would follow orders and just wait at the meeting place until it was time to go. It pondered in assisting in the search and rescue, however its presence could make the others nervous and perhaps if it found anyone, bring unneeded stress to them. Turning its eye to Ja’Far Balak, it slightly tilted its head as he began to stand.

”Are you alright Ja’Far Balak?” it questioned

The organic in question raised his eyes to meet the Geth’s, nodding with a sad smile on his face. He didn't know if it could understand the loss or pain of what just happened but he didn't particularly care. He had just finished a Prayer of Salvation for the fallen, a practice he had picked up during his many years as a Legionnaire. After you kill a noble’s child with your bare hands, snapping it’s neck in the crib, you begin to create quirks. Little things you did to alleviate yourself of any sin, wrongdoing or heavy decision. As his old team wasn't here, as they were dead, he had to pray and meditate. The wounds had mostly healed, now reduced to mere scars which would eventually fade away. His grotesque body, scarred in numerous places had shocked the Alliance medics, one of which was hesitant to even treat his injuries. Batarian medicine could be considered vintage compared to the rest of the galaxy.

He spoke in a soft tone, watching the people go by. Concerned onlookers were trying to catch a glimpse of the catastrophe, some crying as they were pushed away. A little human toddler pointed at the rubble, looking up at his tear-filled mother. ”Phalanx, observe. Catastrophe, destruction, pain and loss. Values of miń religion, the Pillars. What miń species stood for. When thy being experiences pain and suffering, thine soul shalt be cleansed for salvation. Thou shalt be awoken to the Afterlife.” The Batarian paused, sighing as he looked down and kicked a piece of bloodied rubble ”It is sin, but I durst to doubt these values this day. Dost thou feel pain, Phalanx?” He looked up, a sad look on his face.

”I do not feel physical pain. You could fire upon me yet there is nothing as the definition of ‘pain’ as organics describe. Only the knowledge that this platform has been damaged and functionality shall be hindered.” Phalanx answered almost instantly to the question before it paused for just a brief moment, its glowing blue eye watchful yet curious. Turning its head slowly towards the aftermath of their mission, the onlookers gazing at the catastrophe. Some crying, others seeming curious… or maybe it was confusion? The destruction of building, the curious if slightly concerned offspring of organics as they gazed to the adults who held more understanding of the situation… it all seemed familiar.

”Destruction such as this, I have witnessed, and I have participated. Escalated to higher intensity. A description such as organic mental ‘pain’ did not cross me in those times, I do not calculate or remember. Only questions.” the Geth said, giving a slight humming sound as it watched the many organic bodies shuffle around. ”I do not know what such a thing ‘feels’ like. Yet, currently, this sight, despite how logically we were successful in our mission, brings a heaviness. A weight upon this platform that my sensors cannot detect. All systems are online and operational, damage sustained, yet able to be repaired. This weight is unknown.” it answered, wondering if something was perhaps wrong with it. Was it possible for it to feel pain now as organic life do?

It documented the destruction of the Morning War. Shooting Creator’s in the head, body after body until it watched the survivors retreat and flee into space. Offspring, elderly, and those no longer able or willing to fight. Leaving behind millions upon millions of bodies behind them. Phalanx did not feel this ‘pain’ then but it also did not wish to be forced to repeat this process again. Its voice was small and dumb in the mass of programs that assisted in creating its intelligence.

Would it feel pain now if something similiar happened?

Turning to look at the Batarian once more, the Geth platform watched, the flaps twitching around its eye thoughtfully. ”Ja’Far Balak, do you think I will be allowed in this Afterlife? And them as well?” it asked, returning its eye to the rubble, watching. Always watching and analyzing.

The religious man kept a soft smile on his face as he listened and scratched his neck in thought. For an AI, once thought of as nothing but evildoers with no sense of emotion, was asking and describing such organic emotions. He hummed, thinking of what he should say. This was an AI, older than himself but was a mere child in reality. It had so many questions, so many options to do in life. In truth, it was just starting it’s life in the galaxy, where it could walk around and interact with organics. It could experience things it had never experienced before. It was then that he decided he should be this Geth’s mentor. He had never fought any of them when he was a Legionnaire and was always in the middle ground with the argument for AI. This… Phalanx had given off enough organic signals that it wouldn't feel too unnatural mentoring it. He hadn't mentored anyone in awhile, not since the Reapers came.

He kept his voice low but expression thoughtful ”Heaviness? Thou is experiencing guilt, Phalanx. Empathy, dost thou what it means?” Phalanx was about to answer this, its vocals already whirring up to make a voice. ” Not the dictionary definition but the meaning? It is what thou art feeling.” After this, Phalanx paused and allowed its comrade to continue, listening intently. Obviously was meaning to just launch off the definition that was in the dictionary in its database. For the children. For the loved ones. For the people. Thou art experiencing crucial organic emotions Phalanx, thou hast a long way but this is the first step to knowing thine self. The Afterlife, it is a fickle thing. One dost not know whether he or she will ascend. Thou must count sins, thou must not fall into luxury, thou must experience pain like the poorest infidel. Humble thyself and the Pillars shalt look down upon thou with great understanding.”

Ja’Far paused, thinking about his words. Does this AI know the concept of afterlife? He mused before continuing onwards. ”Thou must have the holy four eyes, all-seeing and all-magnificent. Thou must be humbled, and dost not drown thyself in luxury. Thou must provide salvation, suffer so that the weak may be enlightened. Thou must be prideful, confidence in oneself and person. Thou must bring redemption and receive it, through fire and steel. Thou must be strong, weakness is looked down upon. Thou must be of the chosen people or friends of the chosen people, the Batarians.”

”These are the seven scriptures that I personally abide by. Thou art Geth. Thou hast sinned, for thou hast not the four almighty eyes. However, every being hast sinned. Thou must carry thyself in the other scriptures, like the rest of these people. Then, when thou die, whoever created the Pillars shalt judge whether thou is fit for Afterlife.” Ja’Far had never had to really explain his religion before. No one was very interested outside of Hegemony space and after the genocide, there were not many Batarians left to partake in its practices. The first step for a mentor is to find common ground or share your beliefs and culture. Mentoring is a learning curve, every individual is different. You must relate to your student before you can teach them anything. He had hoped, that by answering Phalanx’s question, that he could share some common ground. Miniscule for organics but enormous for AI. Emotions.

He stopped his musings and looked up at the Geth. ”Dost thou think that they shalt ascend? Before Judgement, it is thy opinion whether thou is ascending or not.”

Listening intently to the answer, Phalanx watched the Batarian explain his beliefs. An organic concept that seemed to be a universal trait. Although slightly different depending on the individual, species, and culture. It was nice to get information on this new one, as Phalanx had no logs on this particular ‘belief’ system. Its metal flaps lay resting flat against its head, though the edges on its ‘cheeks’ slightly drooped as it listened at first. It did not have four eyes, for the Creators only made one optical view for its kind. It could not particularly understand the concept of ‘feeling’ some of these scriptures required. It supposed it could be considered quite sinful in that regard. One optical view, lacking these ‘emotions’ especially in the Morning War where it had assisted in slaying millions to the point of near species extinction. Yet the very thought brought that weight again, heavier. Was Ja’Far Balak correct? Guilt? The logical sense of it found it redundant. Why should it? Back then, it was fighting for survival. Currently it was doing the same both for itself and for the new ‘friends’ it had made. It had won, yet the weight continued. Did that make it ‘weak’ as it were? It would think quite a few of its fellow programs would calculate it as so. Despite that, it had left Rannoch in order to pursue these odd conceptions that had been forming just a year ago. If this Batarian saw something, perhaps it was on the correct track. The journey and discovery still long, but correct.

”I do not quite understand or can identify these ‘feelings’ but perhaps it is just something that I require more experience. I do not know if I can ascend to the ‘Afterlife’ and I most likely will be unable until I can answer a critical question. Am I alive? Truly? Or just a machine that is advanced enough to respond to organics fluently?” Phalanx mused before turning its gaze upward to the blue sky. Watching as clouds floated by with little care in the world, while they remained down here.

”However, there is something. I calculate that I wish to attend this place, if only for a little bit. So when I finally am no more, I can see my ‘friends’ again that I have lost and failed to serve. That is all I ask for when I am gone. One chance to see them and make sure, they are happy.” Phalanx chirped, watching the sky for another moment thoughtfully before turning its gaze to Ja’far once more.

”Is that alright?”

The Batarian returned its gaze and chuckled. This seemed to confuse the Geth but he kept laughing to himself, a hearty chuckle that seemed out of place for a Batarian. It brought some attention but those people quickly looked away, intimidated by the Geth’s appearance. He paused, smiling widely at Phalanx with a twinkle in his eye. ”Thou art a contradiction. Thou states that thou is just machine. An advanced toaster. Yet, thou shows an understanding that most lack. Thou shows empathy and treats thine friends how they should be treated. This means that thou art experiencing emotion, no matter how stubborn thou may be against this view. Thi Thou wishes to see thine friends? That is a worthy goal.” He came closer to the Geth and pat it on the back, smiling and shaking his head.

”Thou wishes to be organic? Learn more about us and how we do things? Let me take thou, to new places. The human homeworld has many adventures that await us, we do have 24 hours, no?” He smiled brightly, truly happy. It's been awhile since he's mentored someone. It felt good, giving wisdom to those who listened. He began to walk, although it could be more accurately described as a limp, and indicated for the Geth to follow.

London was a beautiful city, no matter how scarred it was from the Reaper War. There were so many sights to see, so many adventures to take part in. Ja’Far gave a tour of the city, having stayed here on Earth for a while now. It was a sprawling metropolis, a mix of old and new architecture. The history and culture of humans would be abhorred by most Batarians but he wasn't like that. He knew better than to blame the Humans for what happened to his species. He walked from the old memorial of the fallen Big Ben to the new London Eye. It had been difficult trying to get tickets as he tried to justify that Phalanx wasn't so heavy as to actually break the thing. He eventually got two tickets for the Ferris wheel and he pointed out all the landmarks of both Old and New London. They eventually exited the Eye and proceeded to explore more of the city, looking through all the districts and towns. Unfortunately, he had to drag a curious Geth away from the red district, blushing slightly as one of the various...ahem, workers winked at him. Eventually, they ended up a few meters away from a local establishment. The Regent Park Pub.

For the Geth platform, it had been an fascinating adventure. London, despite its scars, still held one of the most prominent pieces in human history and culture. It was understandable why humans seemed to treasure it so. Of course it wanted to explore everything, but there was only so much twenty four hours can accomplish. When they came upon the establishment known as a ‘pub’ which was a place organics frequently attended to partake in another activity that Phalanx didn’t quite understand.

Ingesting alcohol. Like smoking, it often had negative effects when consumed yet organics continuously put it into their bodies. Alcohol impaired the mind, as well as slowly deteriorate their organ known as livers. Yet it was one of the most popular things for organics to ingest. Such a peculiar thing.

Moving closer to the pub, Phalanx noted a few of these frequent ingestion of alcohol organics whom ended up spilling liquid orally. As they walked inside the building, Phalanx paused as it examined its dimly lit surroundings. The noise of several different televisions chirping quietly, captions playing upon the screen for those to properly understand. Its metallic flaps on top of its head moved upwards in alert as it noticed the Turian female Sicaria Velinian and the Krogan Ravanor Rykarn sitting by the bar. Moving closer, the barkeep, whom was a human female with a fairly small black shirt and torn up jeans, a slight curve to the body but had defined toned muscles, short blonde fluffy messy hair and green eyes, turned to look upon her new customer and paused, eyes widening as they gazed upon the synthetic lifeform. Seeming unsure how to particularly react to a Geth being in her bar, she turned to the Batarian instead.

”ID, and what can I get you darlin’?” she asked.

The Batarian snorted lightly, pointing out the scars all over his face. ”Sorry madam but I think that an ID shalt be unnecessary.” He ignored the strange look he received from the barkeep. Obviously the noble accent of High Batarian translated poorly through his omni-tool but he could care less. Despite his diplomatic and cool nature, it was a stressful day. He looked for a cigar to smoke but found none. Regretting his choice to give all his Cubans away to Tiberius, he looked to the patiently waiting barkeep. ”The best pack o’ cigars thou hast. Oh, and I’ll have thine finest trakh madam, the smelly shit that tastes bad to everyone else.” The blonde just nodded in confirmation which made him startle in surprise. He hadn't expected that they would actually have it but he supposed that he was just getting lucky.

Deciding that a seat would be perfect, Ja’Far watched as Sicaria and Rykarn shared a toast before downing their glasses. He had caught part of their conversation, old war stories from the War. He pulled a chair and sat next to the Krogan just as a pack of cigars were sent his way, Phalanx moving next to him albeit standing. Catching them mid air, he clicked his teeth at the playful barkeep before taking a cigar out. A San Lotano, manufactured by A. J. Fernandez Cigars. Some mass made cheap stuff from an island called Nicaragua. Frowning in distaste for a second, he quickly wiped it away and lit it with a portable lighter on his omni tool. He took a long drag, letting the stress of the day escape through his smoking nostrils. The human tobacco was good, he decided, if a little fake. Made in a lab most likely, actual tobacco-plant based cigars would be too expensive for a place like this to afford to sell.

He let the smoke settle before glancing at his side, taking in the mass of the Krogan next to him. ”Both of thou served in the War? Penal Legionnaire mińself, fought the Reapers all over Hegemony space. T'was for murder, mother stabbed sister, I stabbed mother. Hegemony courts never give fair trial.” He chuckled, smoke billowing around him but he was careful not to blow it in people’s faces ”Apologies, ‘tis good courtesy to introduce oneself again. Ja’Far Balak, Legionnaire of the Hegemony. Or what's left of it anyway. Rykarn and Sicaria, correct? What brings thou hither, in a fine establishment like this? I must compliment both of thine work today, thou weren't tarrying about like fools.”

Ja’Far caught a glass of trakh sliding across the counter. It had a piercing smell, layers and layers of complex flavours of the nose that most other species could not detect. While it was sweet to a Batarian like him, it smelled absolutely rancid to anyone else. Knowing this, he took it down in one swig while letting its scent enter his nose all at once. Placing the glass down, he nodded at the barkeep before continuing on ”So, any war stories? We art all veterans here, comrades now. Someone must have a good story. I have some mińself, although twas on a losing perspective.” He asked for another glass, taking another drag of his cigar, content on letting the night go by. Listening and giving a good story or two couldn't hurt anyone.

((DISREGARD I SUCK DINKUS))

---

---

🇪🇦🇷🇹🇭, 🇸🇴🇱🇦🇷 🇸🇾🇸🇹🇪🇲
The reinforcement arrived in time as both Rol'Naaris and the others were sent to the command post. The scientists were dragged off to have their fair trial by the military police. One of the scientists cried out loud as she was being handcuffed and that brought a smile to Rol'Naaris' face. Of course, no-one else could see it, but he was happy that justice was going to be served. And the others had returned from the tunnel with wounds and scars, but they were still alive. He listened to Anderson while he told everyone what was happening in twenty-four hours. Then, Rol'Narris' omni-tool notified him of a message that contained the address to a private shuttle port above a police station. He basically was accepted to the team.

Rol'Narris took a look at the others and wondered if they were going to the location or just forget all of this happened. Before the Spectre left, Anderson stated that the collapse of the tunnel resulted in a tenement building crumbling in the matter of seconds. It sounded peaceful to the quarian compared to being torn apart by a group of husk. His time as a strategist during the worst war in galactic history made him ruthless like so many others. However, it did not mean he was cold. It had been awhile since he last expressed his emotions.

Afterward the regroup, Rol'Narris left the command post and headed towards the ruins of the tenement building. It was just like his time on Earth right after the Reapers were destroyed. The Alliance went inside building after building to look for any survivors. Some of the Alliance soldiers did not escape as the building under them collapsed. It was almost like living through the event again, but realizing that it never will happen in his lifetime again (hopefully). He watched as the response teams did their best with saving as many lives in the time that was given. He stayed to watch the scene for a few more minutes until he decided that it was time to go. He did not know where but he had twenty-four hours to figure something out. Looking at an incoming shuttle, Rol'Naaris waited for it to pick him up so he could go somewhere else. Maybe the Citadel instead.

Besides the smoke from ground zero, the skies were clear and filled with different types of shuttles and ships. The pilot was a bit younger with a beard slowly forming around his face. "Vere do you vant to go?" he asked in a German accent that was clear to the quarian. After all, he was trapped on Earth for a year.

"Citadel." Rol'Narris answered before his omni-tool lit up. The pilot nodded at the answer and headed for the destination. He had realized that the Systems Alliance was quick to rebuild their fleets and Earth, but he did not realize how quickly it took. The balance of political and military power was shifting towards them now—not the Asari Republics or the Turian Hierarchy. And mix with diverse opinions that humans tend to have between each other and it creates several problems. Will the Alliance put the Citadel back or keep it to themselves? Or will they create new treaties designed to limit already weak nations? The future was filled with so many questions and unknown answers. Thankfully, he did not decide to become a politician. It would drive any quarian insane if they hated socializing with the other races. The Citadel, however, was just perfect to look at. It felt like home during his pilgrimage and a symbol of peace between the races. So much has changed since he left it behind.

The shuttle stopped at one of the many shuttle ports that the Citadel offered and Rol'Narris paid the pilot before leaving the port. There were more humans and less aliens since the Citadel was rebuilt. It became a new home for most of humanity while the Earth was still being repaired. The quarian spent several minutes walking around while thinking of something to do and he saw a bar in between some shops. It was just called the Yellowstone Frontier Pub, named after that national park in North America. He was not sure about entering the bar; however, he did saw a few turians enter the place. And he followed them into the bar shortly after.

The establishment was dimmed and lack any sort of bright colors unlike some of the bars back on Earth. And it felt like any bar that you entered at the Citadel with the grey walls and the futuristic furniture. However, he did not feel like spending two hours just to spend time in Purgatory. The quarian stood out like a sore thumb and everyone looked at him for a bit while he took a seat and order a drink. Then, they went to doing whatever they were doing before and Rol'Naaris looked at his non-alcoholic beverage. Years of training with the Marines and drinking on the job would result in severe punishment at the boot camps. Plus, he always hated the bitterness of alcohol. He grabbed a straw and put it inside his cup while he adjusted his suit in order to place the straw. It was such a hassle just to drink something. It was either that or face several bacteria that could kill him in the matter of seconds.

He finally took a sip of his drink and listened to the techno music in the background.

Salissa's transit from the barracks to the former Police Station was most calm. No evil doers or anyone needing help on the way. It all was a simple walk from one place to another, calm, quiet if you don't count the background noises caused by people working or passing vehicles and the slightly destroyed scenery. Much restoration was done and even more was in need of completing. The soldier wasn't the least bit hopeful it would be done anytime soon. Earth would carry the scars of this... cosmic tragic comedy for probably decades, depending on the possibility of people learning from what happened or them continuing the senseless bickering like those Terra Firma idiots were preaching.

A voice had pulled her from her mental pondering. It took her a moment to realize it was Skarr, the krogan who had kind of rushed to her aid back underground without her actually asking for it. She was still glad for it though, she wasn't stupid. She was already at the location it seemed. How fast the time flew when one was busy thinking...

“Thank you, Skarr.” She replied with a sigh, stopping in motion and looking at the skies.” This all could have been avoided, you know. All they needed to do is get the local alliance squads to clear the cerberus base instead of going for the 'infiltration'. “ She said through her teeth and took a breath, calming herself down. She had bad history with covert ops going south when a nice direct approach would have been a lot better...

“You did great too actually. I'm pretty sure not many Krogans can match the performance you showed today.” Salissa added with a smile and respectful nod.” Thank you for the help down there. I got caught a little unprepared, shields drained too fast, but not surprise now that I think about it... back in the war I used to carry additional powercells for longer duration and strength.”

“Tell me, in two words how would you describe the reaper war?” She suddenly asked with completely serious voice.

---

In the depths of the Yellowstone Frontier Pub on the Citadel sat Rayes, one hand clutching the alcoholic drink he had ordered, the other propping his head up from the counter. It was Dextro Heat Sink, alcohol that Turians could drink relatively safely, and Quarians could as well if they took the necessary precautions. There were already several empty glasses beside the Quarian, which Rayes himself found surprising, as he knew he was a lightweight. It must have been effective so far though, it was becoming increasingly hard to see, let alone take another sip from his emergency induction port. He believed that was for the best, or perhaps it was foolish. Whatever the case, he chuckled to himself in his seat, ignoring the various glances he got from the others in the bar before taking it upon himself to mumble:

"Hmmph... stupid situations... Bosh'tet husks... I-I ca-ca-cannot wait to see what those idiots get me into!" He said to himself, giggling afterwards before fumbling with the straw in his cup. He swore he'd invent something to make drinking easier... Probably would have to if days went like they did today. He glanced up to the bartender, waving the hand that he had used to hold his drink to get their attention. His last gulp had drained the rest of his Dextro Heat Sink, and he desperately wanted another.

"Psst... Hellooooooooooo. I-I require a... another!" He told them, to which they simply shook their heads in disappointment.

"Sorry Quarian, but you've clearly had enough."

"Pssssh! Yo-You think I... I've had enough? Hahaha! Yo-You look like a Bosh'tet and... and... you smell like a husk!" He shouted back playfully, giggling to himself at his smartness as he stuck his tongue out from under his mask. Of course, it couldn't be seen, but the iconic noise was very clear despite the hiccups. The bartender simply shook their head, sighing as they stared at Rayes.

"I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." They told him, to which he attempted to look them in the eye, taking several long seconds to adjust his head to look in the bartender's general direction.

"Yo-You need to... to leave. I a-am perrrfectly okay... Yes.... I shall not mo-move!" He replied, slurring his words and giving an ok hand gesture, or well, it was more of a clump of his fingers because he couldn't get it right. The bartender called for security, and soon several of the bar's guards appeared next to the Quarian. The one on his left was a rather bulky and intimidating Krogan, while the other was a Turian of similar stature.

"Pfft... You th-think you can move me? I know someone twice your size bosh'tets..." He told them, placing his hands on their shoulders, or as close as he could get. They easily lifted the small Quarian out of his seat, causing him to wriggle in the air.

"I-I am not going to-"

Rayes attempted to shout before being thrown to the floor outside the pub. The impact gave him a slight headache, and he watched from the ground as they returned inside. Maybe he'd just lay there for a bit... It was a nice floor.

Rol'Naaris watched the entire event unfold along with the customers as the drunken quarian made a huge scene. It would of been funny if it was just a random quarian, but sadly, it was not the case. It was the quarian from the team down at the tunnel. The name was simple enough to remember, Rayes. Rol'Naaris was a bit surprised to see him here and drinking away as he took a quick glance at the table full of empty glasses. It was terrible enough that he cringed during the whole event. Finally, he saw the other quarian picking a fight with security before being thrown out of the establishment.

It was cringy enough that he felt bad for the bartender and the security. Once the customers stopped caring about the drunk, Rol'Naaris finished his drink as the bartender walked up to him. "I assume that you know the drunk quarian?" she asked.

"Sadly, I do." he said shamefully while he pulled up his omni-tool to pay from his drink, "I will be taking him to the nearby shuttle port and getting out of the Citadel."

"Thanks. The other bussiness nearby would complain to C-Sec about passed out customers." he said as he picked up the empty glass and the straw. "Let my security guards help carry him. As a token of my appreciation."

Rol'Naaris nodded and gave him extra credits for dealing with Rayes. Once he exited out of the Yellowstone Frontier, he saw the security picking up the quarian. The turian walked towards Rol'Narris and told him that they were going to drop him off at a nearby shuttle port. Once he entered the shuttle, they would leave them to go back to Earth. He also asked if Rol'Naaris would be alright if he was knock out.

"Let's see if he is still drunk before you do that." he answered coldly, "Don't want to deal with him bitching at me."

When Rayes was suddenly picked up, it startled him slightly. "Nooooo... It was so comfy..." He mumbled to the guards, but he barely put up a fight, if at all. Maybe they were going to take him to a hotel so he could have a long rest... Like personal escorts. He thought that would have been amazing if it was the case.

Through his mask, he could hardly make out the blurry sight of a shuttle, and soon another Quarian was nearby as well. It was one that looked familiar, but then again, he wasn't exactly sure at the moment.

""I am just... Just fine, I assure you! I-Is this the shuttle to... to um... a hotel? Or are we going to, to get more drinks?" He asked them, not really sure of what was going on. Maybe, he thought, they were going to go to a place that wouldn't throw him out for teasing the people who worked there. Either that, or some sort of luxury shuttle... How thoughtful!

Rol'Naaris listened to the other quarian's mumbling and decided that it was too much to deal with. "Be quick about it." he boldly told the turian before giving him enough credits to satisfied him. The turian nodded before waving to the others about the slight change in plan and they nodded back. Then, the krogan entered the shuttle with him and surrounded him to knock him out.

The turian might of said something to him if he was not given credits. It was rare for someone to ask security to knock out their pal. And for a quarian to request it was also a surprised to everyone in security.

It was a relatively quiet flight in the shuttle once Rayes was out cold, with the only real noise besides the hum of the engine being his occasional snoring. That silence was soon interrupted by his suit starting to beep, causing the Quarian to jump awake in shock. While still feeling the effects of the alcohol, he did his best to run a proper diagnosis on what was causing the noise, coming to a realization that his toxin filter needed immediate replacement due to the excessive drinking he had done.

"Kee'lah, what happened?!" He shouted with worry, wincing slightly as the blaring of his suit's warning intensified the pain of an oncoming headache. He worked as fast as he could, and soon, it was silent in the room as his suit was satisfied. Unfortunately, Rayes' body was definitely not, and his head ached immensely. He sighed to himself, leaning forward so that he could place his head on his arm, and it was then that he realized there was someone else in the shuttle: A Quarian no less. Kee'lah, he started to feel a tad embarrassed, and this feeling ultimately made him realize that he was in a shuttle, which brought the question... When? He swore, if he did something stupid... Ultimately, he decided he would try to find out despite his headache telling him to stay silent and rest.

"I... uh... Hello there! Augh... Er, sorry about this, but... Where am I? And Why?" He asked, doing his best to not sound like his body ached as he hoped for a reply.

He heard the other quarian asking him questions, trying to hide the fact that he was drunk about a half hour ago. Rol'Naaris looked at the quarian with his body armor looking almost different from Rol'Naaris'. It was an interesting design that many others could not have come up with. He then finally answered the confused quarian's questions, "Simple enough. You are on a shuttle heading from Earth. As to 'why.'"

There was a moment of silence before he spoke once more. It was an opportunity to make a new friend or make a new foe.

"You were drunk, trying to pick a fight with the bartender and his guards. Then, you were toss out and passed out as a result." he lied to the quarian besides being drunk. It seemed rather horrible to lie to a potential friend; however, Rol'Naaris felt like he was trying to fix the quarian's drinking problem. And it was obvious that he loved alcohol more than a krogan.

"Why were you drinking by yourself anyway?" he asked, "Aren't you supposed to keep an eye on the data?"

The Quarian placed his hands on his mask as he lowered his head farther down from the shame he felt. He passed out after being thrown out of a bar? He supposed that would explain the headache and as for why his toxin filter was on the fritz. And what made it worse was this Quarian had seen it all. He asked himself what the Spectres would think if they realized he had not only gotten hammered, but also thrown out of a bar within hours of leaving their sights. It just... didn't feel right. He looked up at the Quarian, about to answer his question when he heard the second part of it. Data? How could he have known... Wait, was this the Quarian that was with the Spectres? And Rayes had been... Kee'lah, this just was not Rayes' day. He always told himself things could get worse, but he didn't really think that when he decided to go to a bar.

It took him a bit to think of how he should respond, having wondered how he should respond until he gave up from the aching and decided to say most of the truth. He gave one last glance at his toxin levels, watching as they were rapidly decreasing thanks to the new filter before finally speaking up.

"Ugh... Normally I don't go out of my way to drink so much, but today was dreadful... I just wished to forget it all, you know? The horde of husks that came close to ripping me to shreds. It was terrifying, much more than what we dealt with from the Geth... And, as for the data, it'll be safe so long as I have it. My security is near impeccable with my own modifications." He told the Quarian, scratching the back of his mask afterward as he waited for a response.

"I take it that you were not on the ground during the assault. You were stuck on some ship, afraid that your ship would get shot down by the Reapers. Am I right?" he asked after he heard that he was scared of the husks from earlier. He caught himself before saying something insulting to the quarian about being scared to not volunteer to join the ground force. Then again, almost all of the quarian did not volunteer besides himself and a few others. He never forget those that were too scared to join the assault.

He stood up and went to the other side and sat near the other quarian. "At least the data is safe." he stated in hopes of making the quarian feel some what better.

"I was on the ground for your information! I may be an engineer and scientist, but I did not let others fight my battles on Rannoch while I sat on a ship while other Quarians died. Just because I do not mind the Geth now and may have not approved of the war, as it seemed like us or them at the time, does not mean I was going to side with machines that wished to kill everything."

"You care about those things?!" he said with such disgust. He stood up and backed away from the other quarian. It was terrible enough that the Admiralty Board and the Conclave forgave the Geth. Now, there was a AI-machine lover on the team along with an actual geth. And worse of all, he did not even like the war.

"The war against the Geth was necessary to our survival. Everyone else supported the war and it was going well. Until, they joined the Reapers and fought beside them. No wonder that you are an engineer. They are usually the ignorant about warfare." he stopped for a moment and breathed once more. He took the moment to reflect on what he just said and realized that the war was slowly catching up to him. His actions and the consequences were being realized for the first time. All of the death and destruction that Rol'Naaris caused.

"What did you do then?" he asked while still clearly upset over the quarian's statement about the war.

"Care is a strong word, but I can understand their resentment towards us just like we resent them. The Geth are definitely not without faults, but neither are we nor our ancestors. At the time I did not approve because, while I researched the Geth, I felt as if it was a risk that may not pay off. Ultimately it did, but that was with outside help from a human Spectre and his Geth who sacrificed himself so that they could achieve individuality. That's... extroardinary to someone like me. How machines could achieve something similar to our individuality. The Geth on our team... they protected me in those tunnels. I would have died had it not been for it, I know it." He replied, attempting to defend his thoughts on the Geth and his reasonings as he watched the other Quarian move away. Another one to hate the Geth... It was not surprising. It was why Rayes was trying his best to be careful with his words. He could feel the tension and hostility that the Quarian was displaying after his second question, and so he took a deep breath to keep himself calm.

"But regardless, I assisted in dealing with the Geth forces on the ground. I provided insight on their designs and flaws, along with hacking through their defenses, shields, dealing with armor... Overall, I provided support. It may not have been front lines, but I did my best to help others. So many Quarians died already... I did not like seeing others die firsthand... I take it you played a more... aggressive role given your reaction to me saying I do not mind Geth."

'Agressive role.' That would be something that someone with a pro-geth stance said. Rol'Naaris wanted to challenge him on that statement but stopped himself before it got more heated. Instead, he was more interested on his time with the machines and his last sentence. He replied to other quarian, "I was one of the few that volunteered to join the ground assault on Earth while others... 'dislike seeing so many othere dying.' Before that, I was a strategist for the fleet during our war with the Geth. I was apart of the Battle of Rannoch when Shepard's pet ordered the fighting to stop. Good thing that it is dead or you—and the others—might have worshipped the damn thing."

He laughed at the last sentence, trying to be cool and amazing to the other quarian. In his special way. Then, he coughed before looking back at him with his arms crossed. "We are alright fighting and we don't know each other's names. I'm Rol'Naaris vas Vaepal, a strategist and Marine from the fleet."

If Rayes didn't have a raging headache, he would have put up more of a fight to defend his opinion, but this entire situation was just making it worse. Of course out of all the Quarians he could have been on a team with for the Spectres, it was one that was the opposite of his ideals... And probably more along the lines of a normal Quarian. He could have appreciated the different view had it not been for his continued belittlement of Rayes. Instead he barely gave the Quarian his attention while he continued. Though, his seething was more than likely visable when he began laughing that Rayes would have worshiped Shepard's geth. Ugh, what an ignorant bosh'tet! It took all his might to stay silent and not attempt to start another fight, even though with this Quarian's credentials he'd probably win...

"Kee'lah, no wonder you're so aggressive, you must have served with Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema... even agreed with his tactics that nearly killed Shepard on several occasions. But I am not going to push that subject further. I am Rayes'Xum vas Fowal, engineer, scientist, and overall technological expert that served on the Special Projects fleet."

"The Admiral and I may have supported the war against the geth but we often disagreed on several. Especially his attack on a geth ship while Shepard and Tali were on aboard. But, I agree that we change topics before things get heaten." he responded, thankful that the tension between them was over. Rol'Naaris knew that he could have a positive relationship with Rayes despite their different views.

He once again sat besides Rayes and started up another topic, "Tell me, what are you thoughts on Earth and humans?"

At least if they could agree on something, it was to change topics. To Rayes, this entire situation was not how you deal with someone still a bit drunk... But at least they were putting it past them for now... But it seemed when placing down one subject, he picked up another touchy one for Rayes. It made Rayes move slightly away upon asking, causing the Quarian to stare in Rol's direction as he gave his answer.

"I... I do not trust most humans... Nor do I like being on Earth. I have already witnessed a younger Quarian on her Pilgrimage being harassed by a local human... This place has become increasing hostile to other galactic races... It's one of the main reasons I was on the Citadel. At least there I would have had an increased chance of being treated a bit more fair." He replied rather hestitantly, clearly holding back some of his feelings... Either that or it was the headache. Kinda hard to tell with the constant pauses he took.

"Humans have always been mistrusting to those that are completely diffenent and go against their values. Based on my time at Earth, most of the humans are slowly changing their attitude towards other races. I guess that is one of the many good things that came from the Reaper War. It caused more humans and other spieces to trust each other." he spoke honestly to Rayes. Then he looked out of the window and soon saw the Earth.

"Regardless, we are going to Earth. Not to London. We are going to Alexandria, my second home. It is similar to Rannoch and the people are friendly to other races especially the quarian since most of the volunteers choose to stay there. Plus, I have something to do before we leave with the rest of the team. I was wondering if you would like to come with me." he stated to Rayes, waiting for his reaction to the news.

"Of couse, it is up to you." he added before he responded.

Rayes couldn't help but laugh to himself hysterically at the thought of traveling with Rol. It was definitely not on his to do list, but he felt as if he had no choice. After all, despite his nature, he did seem to help Rayes out when he had passed out in front of the bar.

"I... I suppose I could for a bit, if you are being honest... Just... try to keep the noise down, please? My head still hurts, aching both on the outside and inside..." He replied, nervous of this place. The other Quarian attempted to paint it in a good light, but even the brightest lights casted a shadow somewhere... He just hoped they would not see that darkness. And for the damn headache to go away... Maybe he'd replace his toxin filter once more when they landed to speed up the process...

"Great." Rol'Naaris said quietly, "The shuttle's near Alexandria and then we will explore the city."

The shuttle did indeed arrived at Alexandria and landed at Horus Shuttle Port, named after the Egyptian god of war, sky, and falcons. And that began the tour around the city. It took hours for Rol'Naaris to show Rayes the popular locations in the large city. And their last part of the tour caused them to stop at a nearby marketplace. It was full of stalls and customers looking to buy whatever they need. At the edge of the marketplace lain a memorial to those who died during the Battle of Earth. It was nearby the sea which made it more perfect to Rol'Naaris.

He approached the memorial and looked at the list of names. There were too many people that died and Rol'Naaris felt like it was time to say goodbye to those that he sent to their deaths. Then, he looked at the statue of humans and aliens fighting as a team. That was when he saw replica of himself. He remembered how much honor he felt when he was asked if Systems Alliance could add onto the memorial. If only his friends could be there with him.

Rol'Naaris realized that Rayes was still standing there and most likely looking at the memorial. He probably did not want to be there and listen to a quarian's farewell. "You should get somethings before we leave Earth. I will be here, saying my goodbyes to... some friends." he quietly said towards Rayes.

Rayes could only find the tour to be so interesting, partially due to how his unfondness of humans, but mainly due to the massive amount of aching his head had caused him. Hours of torturous pain severely dampened the mood, and while his filter was doing its best to get rid of the alcohol, he had gone above and beyond the normal level after all.

So when Rol told him to go out and buy things before they left, he immediately set out to buy another toxin filter or two... or ten... At this rate, he'd need to constantly replace them to speed up the process, and he'd put the last one in several hours ago before they landed. As much as he would have liked to say something to Rol, question his role in the Reaper War and why this memorial depicted him, but he felt that was a story for another time. He also doubted the Quarian would give him a decent answer without some sort of speech about the Geth being evil, and Rayes could only take so much of it at times.

Regardless, it didn't take him long to find a place that sold environmental suit parts for Quarians, if only because there seemed to be quite a lot here at the memorial. Perhaps more fought here than expected, or perhaps his traveling guide was more popular than Rayes saw. He shook his head, readjusted his cloak a bit, and used a tiny bit more of the credits for these filters. Luckily, the Spectres didn't know how much there was to begin with, and everything added up wouldn't even put a dent in it, right? Yes, Rayes did the calculations. And if they did find out somehow, he'd explain his reasonings. But, that was for later, and now, he had to install this blasted toxin filter again...

"Hellizia Iessaria, I am sorry for sending your squad to their deaths. I knew that your team would die while clearing the street towards command. But.... I hoped that my calculations would of been wrong... I prayed." he said towards the memorial, feeling terrible about his decision. Of course, some of his calculations were wrong. People, who thought would of died, lived and vice versa. Then, he looked around at other names he would remember.

Cravanor Nokor, one of the older krogan, was a tough son of a bitch with his shotgun. Sadly, he died while defending a supply point that Rol'Naaris ordered to be defended at all cost. Silpia Fallius' entire family were at Earth during the finale battle and she prayed that her family was protect. Instead, Rol'Naaris cold heartly sent each one of them towards danger. Her lover died as one of the skyscapers collapsed on top of him, her father was torn apart by husk while pushing them back from another supply point, and her sister died defending a key captain from a suprise ambush. Silpia later killed her with poision because the pain was too much to bear.

Why was he thinking of her all of a sudden? Because he just found out at the spot as he looked at her sister's name. A suicide note appeared on his onmi-tool and he read it. She blamed him for ruining her family's future and destorying the only chance of rebuilding. Her home was destoryed at the beginning of the Reaper War and her child among with her mother were killed. Before the note ended, she cursed and hoped that he realized how much blood he truly had in his hands.

Rol'Naais just looked at the memorial and the statue of himself then collapsed to the ground. He began to weep towards the name of the dead, the names that he personally ordered to their death. Other people at the memorial looked at the crying quarian and did not know what to do. He put his hands against his mask as he kept on crying while trying to shut up. It was time for him to realize the consequences.

When Rayes returned, the scene he came back to was not what he had expected in the slightest. There stood Rol'Naais, weeping at the memorial as others stared. Did the people who fought here mean that much to him? Rayes himself could not be certain... But he understood there was at least a deep enough bond to be sad over their demises. It reminded him of a good friend on Rannoch, who died as he stared at the stars of their homeworld... Perhaps that soul crushing feeling was what Rol was feeling...

And he had no idea what to do for the other Quarian. He did not seem like the type who would appreciate a comforting shoulder, but at the same time, Rayes knew that his people were very close. They may not agree on a lot of things, but clearly there is more to this Quarian than Rayes originally gave him credit for. He was glad that it seemed a majority of his aching was starting to slowly fade as his filters worked into overdrive at this point, giving him enough clarity to walk over and simply place his hand on the crying Quarian's shoulder. It wasn't much, but it was all Rayes could think of doing without disturbing his fellow Quarian or saying anything. After all, he didn't want to make Rol upset more than he already was.

Rol'Naaris was looking at the ground as he had been crying from five minutes until he saw blood on the ground—rushing towards him like a river. He started to shake uncontrollably in fear of what he was about to see. His head slowly to move upward and watched as the memorial had been turned into a collection of bodies. Bodies that he recogized during his times at Earth and Rannoch. Above them were quarian ships that were destroyed by Geth and Reaper ships because of his orders.

Then, he felt something placing their hands on his shoulder. When he turned, he saw someone that he had not thought of in a long time. "Are you alright?" the mysterious stranger asked.

Rol'Naaris gasped in shock and sat there in silence while trying to suppress the thoughts of him. That was when he realized that the blood and the bodies were all fake. He had been hallucinated the whole time. This had never happened to him before and first time that he was crying in a long time. The Reaper War caused him to suppress his feelings and guilt because he needed a clear thinking head. But, he never could realized how much pain he kept in him self.

Now, he did not know what to do. With Rayes' hand on his shoulder, he felt embarrassed about his sudden breakdown. "Oh, I did not realize that you were done so quickly." he said while trying to stop crying and clear up his head. Rol'Naaris stood up from the ground and turned towards Rayes.

"Now that I gave you the tour of my home, what do you want to do next?" he asked while trying to sound like he was alright and happy. But he was not alright. He was not happy. For the first time, he did not know what to do. He was stuck.

Rayes wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that Rol went into a sort of shock when Rayes placed his hand on Rol's shoulder, or how afterwards he attempted to act as if nothing was wrong. Obviously, this had effected him more than Rayes could understand at the time, and while Rol did his best to sound like he was fine, Rayes didn't quite believe it.

"Perhaps it would be best if we turn in for the day, no? Some rest will do us both good, and after such a long day I believe we deserve it..." He replied, thinking it to be the best option. Some sleep would help with the hangover he was experiencing, and could help Rol calm down... Rayes wasn't sure. To him, some rest was definitely needed, and he felt like his Quarian comrade would feel the same.

"Yeah..." he agreed. "Let's rest. I know where we could stay. Most of the quarians are staying at this place."

And they went off towards the hotel to get some needed rest. While they were walking, Rol'Naaris was walking slow and he was dragging his feet among the dirt until they reached the asphalt. He was trying to keep together and looked at the other quarian. "I am sorry for that. I should not have done that at all." he said with no emotion in his words. He could not cry any more tears and was so tried of his time at the memorial.

For one of the first times today, Rayes may have actually smiled at Rol's weakness... In a good way. Not to say he liked it, but rather that it seemed there was at least a bit of trust coming... even if it was only because he saw him weak.

"Everyone struggles to stay in control from time to time... You wept when you remembered pain, I drank to forget..." He told Rol, patting him on the back as he remembered the swarm of husks. The very minimal thought he just experienced gave him shivers, but he attempted to put all his focus on walking towards the hotel. Rayes was a bit excited about it, if he was being truthful with himself. A place on Earth mainly used by Quarians? It was nearly unheard of for Rayes!

When they finally arrived, it was clear that the day had drained their energy and spirit. They both recieved a seperate room across the hall from each other, and to Rayes, he was glad he was finally in a place where he could rest. No more worrying about husks, definitely no more drinking, and what was probably the best was that, while they were still a bit on rocky terms, he had met a new Quarian ally.

And thus, after taking the necessary precautions, both Quarians soon found peace in sleep.

The Krogan's broad shoulders rose and fell like the Rachni Empire as he shrugged. "In my experience, Spectres overly complicate matters. I'm all for a stealth approach. In fact that's what most call me for. But the moment you're too afraid to get your hands dirty, you're out of the game." His words were spoken with a finality that came from centuries upon centuries of personal experience.

With that, he strode over to Salissa. She nodded to him as a sign of honor, and gave him her vocal respect as well. He couldn't help but give a small smirk at that. He found he liked this human. She also seemed more solidly built than most. Perhaps it was the way she walked, or how heavy she felt when she was on his shoulders. Whatever it was, she was built like a fighter. "Don't mention it," he told her.

He nearly headbutted her as a sign of comraderie, but at the last moment he decided against it. Maybe a few more battles fought, and he'd do it. There was also the small problem of perhaps breaking her neck if he tried. Not a good start for the Spectre group. Instead, he held out his hand to shake hers. He briefly wondered where the younger Krogan was at this second. Hopefully not getting into too much trouble.

He snorted. "Two words?" The Krogan echoed. "Well, you're blunt like a Krogan. If I had to describe the Reaper War in two words, it would be 'nice try.' Maybe in another 50,000 years they'd win. But our Galaxy was a bit too much for the all-powerful machines. It was exciting though, I'll give it that. I hadn't fought that hard in centuries." He let out a breath. "The indoctrination I think we all could have done without, however. Even if it did provide more than enough fights. The honored dead don't deserve to be treated that way...Why?"

---

Ellis scratched at a bit of peeling yellow paint on the forklift's chassis, just above the front left tire. The springs were old and creaked beneath his weight. The wheel wells were scarred and rusted from years, maybe decades of use. The fork tines groaned as we adjusted his seating position. He could hear voices. One, a woman's. The other was the gruff voice of a Krogan. He considered approaching, then decided against it. Better not to bother them.

Crickets chirped in the nearby bushes. The sky was tinged in streaks of violet and orange. The world, serene.

Peace. So quiet.

Silence is simply noise you do not notice.

No, silence is the sound of nothing. It is the sound of corrosive thoughts. It is the sound of depression. The sound of betrayal. The sound of 'nothing left'.

Silence must be our song.

He flexed his new hand. It was a bit clumsier, but it would do. He wondered whether or not he should get it painted, to match. He decided against it, and wondered what the rest of the group was doing. He wondered when they would arrive. He wondered how long he would wait. He wondered how he fit in. He wondered how long it would be until the Krogans petitioned Humanity to betray the council. He wondered if Cerberus would answer the call. He wondered if they would try to recruit him again. He wondered if he would re-enlist.

Most of all, he wondered where his anger had gone. It had been replaced, by a pensive solemnity that he could not trace. A tear ran from his eye, soaking into the porous aerogel that held him, and he tried to wipe it away, knocking his new hand against his visor, completely forgetting his condition for a moment.

He looked up. Clouds rolled lazily by, painted in glorious tones of pink and red, hues of blue and violet, floating by, complacent, just watching the world go by. Oh, how he wished he could be a cloud. How he longed to be nothing more than weightless vapor, no more capable of intelligent thought than a rock. If it could be so, these thoughts would no longer plague him. He thought about Vella, the Asari that had protected him.

Why? Why would she-

Why wouldn't she? She and her ilk are trained to defend the weak.

But I am a demon to them... A monster.

They aren't wrong. You have a terrible track record. If you would just- MOTH!

Ellis slammed his new hand down on his thigh, hard enough to feel the vibrations of the impact. The moth beneath splattered like a water-balloon.

If you would just KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT more often, they'd have less to be afraid of.

You might be right-

We're always right.

He sighed. Everyone else was no doubt celebrating the recent victory. Likely sharing drinks, maybe even dancing, heading out for nice dinners, just relaxing before the next operation... Ellis could do none of these things.

May as well at least enjoy yourself-

How?

Don't ask us. Hit your painkillers, mug a tourist, IV a bag of tequila, just do something. For fuck's sake, you're just moping.

Ellis did at least have a small storage of more old-fashioned painkillers, particularly opiods.

Those are fun, right?

Anything is fun if you use it properly.

That doesn't seem true.

Nonetheless, "NERO, activate Exotic Pain Supplement." He swayed as the plunger dropped. If he could have seen himself, he'd have seen his eyes suddenly dialate and his mouth suddenly fall open. Because he couldn't, he asked NERO.

"Your appearance is suggestive of alcoholic intoxication. Recommend stealth protocol to avoid law enforcement."

"Law...enforcement?" Ellis spat out, still sluggish from the initial injection.

"Public intoxication is currently listed under Level 2 Misdemeanor, below Aggravated Assault and Breaking and Entering."

"Shit!" He'd completely forgotten that he was right in front of the police station. Well, he'd forgotten it until a fully uniformed officer passed by, likely on his way home from work. Ellis panicked, and toppled over the side of the forklift, luckily hidden behind it, unluckily, at the perfect angle to make it impossible for him to lift himself back up. The officer seemed not to notice.

"Recommend standard Cerberus Extraction Protocol."

"WE DON'T EVEN WORK FOR THEM ANYMORE!"

"Recommend modification of software memory. Unable to connect to Cerberus Information Server."

"What-"

"Key components damaged. Unable to connect to Cerberus Information Server."

"NERO, what-"

"Reset."

Ellis groaned as blood rushed to his head. This only served to increase his tingliness.

"Greetings, Operative. I am NERO, Cerberus Virtual Intelligence, designated Network-Enabled Remote Operation system, numerical designation- ONE-FOUR-ONE-FIVE-SIX-THREE-"

"Yes, yes, yes, how do I get up?"

"Recommend standard Cerberus Extraction Protocol."

Ellis groaned.

*

“You all now have twenty-four hours to get your affairs in order. Say good bye to loved ones, gather your belongings, settle bar tabs. After those twenty-four hours are up we want to see you’re here.”

Vella was walking through the darkened metro on her way back to the surface, trudging through the ruined debris and the long, empty and echoing hallways of the old London metro; her Apostle Assault Rifle magnetically hooked to her chestplate and her dufflebag slung over her shoulder.

Everything about the darkened scene, flickering lights, dust cloud filled tunnels and the distant, echoing noises would suggest a creepy mood; especially after she had just fought off the veritable legions of the damned as they had flooded out of the hidden underground Cerberus facility in an endless tide of pseudo organic-synthetic horror.

Yet the Asari felt neither frightened nor alone.

In fact, she felt elated. Every step she made across the ruined ground or old water pools was nearly a small jump. She felt exhilerated, excited! It had been months since she had felt this alive! Her muscles ached after the brief but intense engagement, but that did nothing to dissuade her bright mood as she nearly skipped through the darkened tram tunnels!

"You did it! You made the challenge! They have accepted you! You're in!"

The thought of joining a spectre on an exciting adventure through the most dangerous and exotic areas of space was a dream come through, as thousands of possible quests and heroics flooded through her mind! She would meet exciting new people! Face down nefarious and dangerous threats that most of the galaxy would never know about! She would be at the forefront of galactic matters, at the center of the action; playing with the very historical battles and intrigues that would affect the galactic landscape for years to come!

As she was running up the last stairs of the metro and up into Baker street, Vella would immediately flick on her omni-tool, rapidly typing in a single message:

"I got the job!"

" ... "

" ... "

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

Vella had taken off her silver helmet, and visibly raised an eyebrow as she stood alone in the rain, watching her omni-tool. She would have expected some replies by now, yet it was strangly omni-silent.

"What's going on with them?"

Vella's eyes narrowed, as she began to take a step towards the rainy road outside of the metro. However, as Vella had barely managed to raise one silver boot over the main road, her instincts caused her to immediately throw herself backwards as she heard the sound of a heavy propulsion drive off to her left!

WRZOOOM!

The Asari barely had time to throw herself back and fall onto her ass as a big, bright-red double-decker hover-bus just zoomed in from her left, coming to an abrupt stand-still as it violently knocked over a trash bin and decapitated a fire hydrant!

"GODDESS!" Vella exclaimed, suddenly patting herself to check if she was still in one piece before she looked up at the double-decker bus currently parked in front of her.
"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE DRIVING, YOU ASS!"

"CONGRATULATIONS, SIS!"

Suddenly sounded the familiar voice of Sila, as her fellow Asari Sentinel became visible as the doors to the bus swung open; revealing a bright blue, slightly purple hued Asari sitting behind the driver's wheel; and three more blue heads peering out from the side of the bus, as Vella promptly recognized Atharia, Lithi and Jovalitha-ri, all from her platoon.

" ... Sila?" Vella said, momentarily flabbergasted as she looked around to analyze the vehicle.
"Wait, where did you even get... "

"Quick! Get in the bus!" Lithi suddenly exclaimed.
"No time to explain!" Sila continued.

Vella simply looked at them for a moment, until she could suddenly hear some sirens in the distance.

"Oh shi,-"

Without waiting any second longer, Vella launched herself forward in a charge as she rushed into the bus, her helmet in one hand and dufflebag in the other as she nearly stumbled right into the floor as she got in! Sila didn't even wait for Vella to get all the way into the bus before she floored the peddle and the propulsion systems of the double-decker bus kicked into action, and the bus flew away!

*

Ellis twiddled his thumbs as best he could. One of his legs was stuck between the prongs of the forklift, while the lift itself was low enough to press onto Ellis' chest, holding him down on his back like a flipped roach.

This is the most boring evening after a very exciting day.

Quit whining, at least no one is bothering you.

Except me, I'm bothering me.

Don't blame us for your problems.

Aren't we all 'us'?

You tell us.

The sky darkened slowly, red glow becoming purple, pink turning red, yellow streaks devolving into a blood-orange. The crickets grew louder, and the sounds of the bustling city rose to its peak as streetlamps activated, and the night life awoke.

*

It had taken a few maneuvers, but thankfully they had evaded the pursuing police.

Although Sila was one of the best pilots in the Division of Light, was still impressive nonetheless how she had managed to outmaneuver the pursuing cop car in a bright red double-decker bus with near non-existant handling; and minimal collateral damage as well!

Vella, on the other hand; amidst being flung around in the back of the double-decker bus in the wild chase; had been showered with questions from the more than two dozen other Asari in the bus, as they had barraged her with questions about the supposed "job interview"!

"DID YOU HAVE TO KILL SOMEONE?!"
"Uh, yes! ... Well, kind'a. They were already dead."
"DID YOU GET A GOOD LOOK AT THE SPECTRE? WAS HE HOT?"
"If you're into scales... "
"DID YOU GET A NEW UNIFORM? CAN I SEE IT?!"
"IS IT TRUE YOU'RE ABOVE THE LAW NOW?!"
"Well.... "

"HOLD ON, GIRLS!"

Sila would suddenly shout out, turning to look back at the rest of the gathering blue crowd around Vella as she gave Vella coy look.

"First things first, this requires a REAL CELEBRATION for Vella!" She said with a mischiveous smirk on her lips.
"However, for that, YOU are going to need a shower and less clothes! We can't go partying in full battle armor, and if your story is half-true, those Commando leathers probably stink! So for that, we're going to go to ground first; and then, we conquer London!"

*

There had been few objections to Sila's plan as they drove back towards their hotel; especially as it gave Vella a chance to get a much needed shower. Say what you will about the simplicity of it all, nothing made a shower feel better than just having killed a couple hundred husks in an epic battle to save London! Sila and the rest of the girls had already packed her stuff for her, which meant that Vella only had to get dressed. Her choice for this evening would be an undersized tank top under a high collar jacket, and some deep purple tight pants. In terms of modesty, it still left her far ahead than some of her fellow sisters, yet she had always liked going with the more flashier colors!

It had taken a while for them to leave the hotel again, however, as an already tipsy Lithi had made it her personal mission to get it on with a particular Salarian in the hotel bar, deciding to recruit the whole platoon to support her. However, after hotel security arrived, and the sudden escape by the Salarian, the platoon had finally managed to get back onto the bus as they ventured back towards London center!

Ellis lay, staring up at the darkening sky, pondering the day's events. He'd woken up, confirmed the date, time, and location of a mysterious transponder signal, answered said signal, and been recruited by Spectres. Afterward, he was immediately ordered into his first mission for these Spectres. During the mission, he was crippled. Sometime between then and now, his broken limbs had been repaired, and now, here he lay beneath the setting sun, in a forklift Full Nelson.

This can't get any worse. It simply isn't possible.

Anything is possible.

The sound of an engine and the glow of headlights approached rapidly. Ellis had only enough time to think:

I'm not even on the road-



*

"Look, up there! That's a huge clock! Why'd they build that?" Lithi exclaimed, pointing out of a window.

"What? Naaahhhh, it's kind'a small to be honest... " Vella would comment, looking up at the large clock towering above much of the cityscape as they passed the bridge.

"We NEED to go there!"

"Noooooo! No! We already decided to visit that Night Club Stylonix!" Atharia would interject, suddenly leaning forward towards Sila; her already minimalistic top threatening to burst at the seams as she brought up her omni-tool next to Sila's face.
"Look, just follow this way through Victoria's street,and we'll get there!"

"No! Your navigation sucks, just use the GPS! Here, I downloaded this omni-app!" Lithi said, almost laying herself over Atharia as she brought her own omni-tool in front of Sila, nearly pressing it against her face as a virtual voice sounded throughout the front of the bus.

"Greetings, I am A23P, your VI for London adventures. If you had a destination,"

"Dammit, I get it out of my face! I can barely see!" Sila complained, trying to look back at the path ahead.

"But I paid like 20 credits for this! It works, trust me!" Lithi exclaimed, as Vella leaned in behind the two.

"Hey, maybe we should... "

KZHOOOOM!

Ellis roared, "WWWWHHHHHHYYYYYYY!?"

*CRASH!!*

The sound of the emergency stop system of the hover engine kicking in came out of nowhere, as Vella, Lithi and Atharia all found themselves launched headfirst into the windshield as the double-decker just hit the back of a forklift; Sila being the only one in the front wearing a seat belt!

"Owwhhh!" Both Lithi and Atharia complained, Vella having been fortunate to land on the two, but her face was still very much plastered to the inside of the windshield as she glanced down.

"I think we hit... something." She said, her purple eyes suddenly widening as she looked down at a tilted forklift, and a large, heavy metal husk lying face first into the ground.

"Could it be... Ellis?"

Ellis stood, joints creaking, servos whining. "NERO! System check!"

"System functional, operator. Unable to connect to Cerberus Information Server."

"Idiot. NERO, switch to loudspeaker mode. Hey! You up there! You have run over me!" He approached slowly, one foot after another sinking into the soft grass. One hand cocked, instinctively ready to draw a weapon that wasn't even there. "I demand that you exit your vehicle!"

"Ellis! That's my new squadmate!" Exclaimed, unplastering herself from the windshield.

"Whaaaat?!"

"You never said he was that fat!"

Vella had already throw herself to the side, already pushing herself on top of a complaing Sila as she opened the side window to poke her blue head out, waving at Ellis with a big smile!

"Ellis! It's me, Vel!" She said throwing him a smile!"

"I don't care about Ellis, get your ass out of my face!" Sila complained, trying to pull Vella back in as Vella suddenly disappeared back into the bus!

"Vell... la?" Ellis' shoulders dropped. "What? Why did you... The bus... What?" Ellis walked up to the door, and tried to grab ahold of the door, accidentally punching right through the glass. "Shit."

"MY BUS!" Sila exclaimed, sounding as if a mother had just watched her dearest child fall as Ellis promptly made a hole through the metal and glass door.

"Hi, ellis! Vella exclaimed from where she sat below Sila, waving down at him; as five more blue heads peered down at Ellis with deep curiosity!

Ellis raised his hand. "Sorry, new arm." He was nervous. This was a lot of aliens. A lot of the same alien. Which one was Vella? Which ones weren't?

"Everyone, say Hi to Ellis! He's my new squadmate!" Vella was quick to explain as she got back up from her feet, as suddenly more than half a dozen big eyes gaze down at Ellis with flaring curiosity!

"Say WHAAAT?"
"Is he N7?"
"OI, Ellie! What do you think of Vel?"
"Is that your suit? Where did you buy that?"

"Uhhh, sir... " Suddenly sounded the concerned voice as a random police clerk had come out of the station, walking cautiously up towards Ellis with a look of concern on his face.
"Are you alright, sir? That crash looked painful!"

It's the fuzz!

Ellis jumped, frankly, freaking out. He imagined the cop reading him his rights. He thought about missing the mission because he was in jail. He thought about being sentenced to a prison. He imagined a judge sentencing him to hard labor, or worse, solitary confinement. He panicked.

Run!

Ellis punched his fist through the door, and took ahold of the frame, pulling hard. "OPEN THE DOOR!" The door popped and crackled and broke, spilling glass all over his armor. He pushed it aside and squeezed onto the bus, bending out the frame. "GO! GO! GO!"

"OH NO! THIS IS NOT GOING TO WORK!"

"HE'S TOO FAT!"

"I'M NOT FAT! IT'S METAL WEIGHT!"

"The roof! The roof! Get him on the roof!" Vella called out as she pointed at Ellis. To say that Ellis was inside or entering the bus would be a gross misnomer, as the oversized mech that was Ellis was more akin to that of a big, metal ball halfway buried into the vehicle's side, causing the whole hover vehicle to tilt sideways!

All the while, the face of the police clerk was one of utter horror as he watched the spectacle.

One of the back windows of the bus opened, revealing an Asari dressed in a poorly replicated and extremely slutty N7 black 'armor', the price tag still visible at the back of her collar, and waving at the police clerk.

"NO TIME TO EXPLAIN! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY" The N7 dressed Asari named Ophelia called out from behind her full helmet.
"WE HAVE TO SAVE THE GALAXY - GOTTA GO!"

"Drive!" Lithi exclaimed, as Sila once again floored the pedal!

"Get him on the roof!" Vella called out, as suddenly Ellis could feel a powerful biotic field surround his body as more than four different Asari, including Vella, just forced him out of the bus with their biotics, causing him to hover in the air right next to the bus as it drove on!

However, before they could move him any further, Ellis would smash into a STOP sign as the bus drove on, as well as tear off the roof of a bus stop before Vella and her peers could lift him up into the air and dump Ellis down on the open-roof on top of the double-decker, as another eight Asari on top of the bus gazed at him with big eyes of surprise, before suddenly cheering!

Ellis gripped the railing as the bus careened back and forth, its momentum both fast and furious. NERO interjected, "Recommend more stable position, Operative."

"WHOO-HOOO! YOU CHOOSE TO JOIN!"

"Yeah, we got our own mech now!!"

One of the Asari would lean forward to place an overly wide 1 dollar wizard hat on top of Ellis's 'head', whereas another one was digging through a repurposed Cryo-Ammo box to pick up a perfectly cooled bottle of beer which she threw to him!

"CATCH!"

Despite his growing uneasyness at being surrounded by a thousand identical Asari, Ellis caught the bottle as it spun through the air, the drink inside no doubt shaken past the point of drinking. Ellis was uncertain of what to do with it. "NERO, can I..." He struggled with his wording. "Can I connect this at all?"

"Intravenous delivery unsafe. Recommend attaching to Nourishment System."

Ellis sighed. It wouldn't be exactly like drinking it, but it would still go through his stomach, liver, and kidneys. Well, stomach, liver, and filters, anyway. "How do we do that?" The city whizzed by in a blur of lights and sounds. The chatter of the surrounding Asari was practically white noise, by how fast they were speaking.

"Recommend introduction into original system through external syringe."

Ellis looked around at the screaming, laughing, shouting Asari, deciding that, most certainly, one of them would have an empty syringe. "And we could scan for toxins first?"

"Commencing scan. Composition safe. Potential toxins include Ethyl Alcohol, Wheat Gluten, and methane."

"What? Those aren't toxins-"

"Redefining."

"External volume, up twelve percent- I need a syringe!" He called out. This would mark his first time even discovering that he was able to use alcoholic beverages. Of course, he wouldn't really taste it, as it would be absorbed directly into his stomach lining, but as a human once said, 'Drunk is drunk'. "Is it safe to mix beer with Exotic Painkiller one-point-two?"

"Not recommended."

"But is it dangerous?"

"Not recommended." Ellis weighed his options. One one side, a night out on the town seemed almost sacreligious without the partaking of alcohol. On the other side, it could make Ellis sick, even damaging his immune system beyond repai-

"Fuck it. Anyone got a syringe?"

"A syringe?!"

The question promptly raised a mixture of both amused and curious looks as six of the nearby Asari almost immediately stopped their chatter to stare solely on Ellis amidst the broken seats and bent metal flooring of the open bus.

"Wait, Elli is a combat medi! Elli! Are you here?!"

"WHO NEEDS A DOCTOR?!"

A deeper blue Asari with long, purple tattoos running across her face would suddenly answer the call as she came stepping up behind the small crowd gathered around Ellis, wearing a bikini that resembled a slutty nurse outfit; or was it a slutty nurse outfit that looked like a bikini?

Either way, she came carrying a half empty bottle of wine in one hand, and a big, red plastic medic kit in her other hand!

"Elli is on the spot! WHATS the emergency?!"

"Vella's robot human needs booze but lacks a mouth!"

The Asari combat medic called 'Ellie" stepped forward and past her sisters. But when she saw Ellis, her jovial and tipsy expression would suddenly change to one of intense focus; as Ellie's eyes narrowed on the mech currently sitting at the front of the top deck in the bus. Her eyes would move across Ellis as if she was taking in a thousand minute details in all but a few seconds, an intense professional curiosity seeming to have somehow managed to stall her drunkeness.

"A syringe!" She suddenly snapped her fingers before any of the Asari behind her could even chip in.

"I hope everyone's having fun up here?" Ellis?" Vella asked as the Asari came walking up the narrow staircase to the top of the double decker bus, only to look across the top floor to see combat medic 'Ellie', standing over Ellis with a huge syringe that she had seemingly produced out of nowhere; and a mad glint shining in her eyes!

"Is this one big enough?!"

"Uhm... Ellis?" Vella asked cautiously, noting how the syringe in question was literally considered large even by Krogan standards!

If there was anyone within sight that had trypanophobia, this might just have turned into a horror story...

Ellis laughed, oddly enough, a laugh of mirth. He was, for only the sixth time, having fun, despite being surrounded by aliens. "That'll do!" Ellis snatched the syringe up and slammed the needle through the bottlecap. Pressing a button to activate the plunger, he stared at the little window as it filled with beer.

This is such a bad idea.

Shut up. You already lost me an arm.

WE already lost you an arm.

Fine. 'We'.

"NERO, adding new nourishment supplement."

"Opening supplement port two."

Ellis' cuirass popped open with the hiss of pressurized air, exposing three rubberized seals, each one with a small opening in the center for the needle that refilled Ellis' suit's nutrients, medication, and Omni-Gel. The center seals squealed open, and Ellis inserted the syringe. "Here goes... an experiment." He hit the plunger, and promptly fell over as Sila made a sharp right.

As he lay on the bus floor while the Asari chirped all around him, full of laughter and screams of excitement, he realized that he felt included. Not like it was under Cerberus, and not like it was under the new Spectres. One of his new companions slapped his shell twice, asking if he was okay. He waved a hand absently, forgetting his strength, and leaving a nasty dent in the railing when he used it for support.

Ellis’ low alcohol tolerance was ordinarily the least of his worries. But right now, with his BAC at .04 from a single, twelve-ounce beer, it loomed like a monster. His vision was blurry, and his motor skills clumsy, side effects that NERO could have identified as being synergy between opioid drugs and ethyl alcohol. Having never experienced drunkenness before, Ellis attributed all of his symptoms to the booze, gloating over God for having discovered a workaround to this most ancient of pastimes.

Ellie clapped him on the shoulder. He was beginning to lose some of his prejudices against the Asari. He had always thought them arrogant, believed that they saw themselves as superior, for their long lives and galactic social status. He glanced at Ellie. She was shotgunning another beer, having used her Omni-tool to melt a hole in the bottom of the bottle.

I must learn to replicate this.

If all the emulation doesn’t kill you first.

He looked around, at all his scantily clad new friends. The two sitting next to one another in the front were barely clothed at all, bikini tops threatening to burst, the lower-body counterparts faring little better.

i]New friends.[/i]

You don’t have any friends.

They’re treating me like a friend.

Just wait.

I have been.

Having seemingly no retort, Ellis’ inner voices stayed quiet. Ellis watched the two in front, arguing about something. He couldn’t hear them over the bus, the rushing wind, and the sounds of the city.

They are… Even from a human perspective, very attractive.

What the hell are you saying?

Wide hips, supple breasts, toned arms and legs. Not a lot to argue with.

He seemed to agree with himself, and found himself staring. He decided another drink might help. “Are we stopping anywhere, or are we staying mobile?” He opened his Omni-Tool and checked his vitals. Increased heart rate, increased blood pressure, increase in body temperature- all normal, considering he'd just had his first drink. Actually, better than normal, because he didn't have to taste his first drink.

"No way! We gotta go exploring!" One of the Asari adamantly claimed as she raised a beer, almost tipping over from another sharp turn by Sila!

"Hell yeah!" Vella was quick to back her up, stepping forward as well to lean precariously on the railing!
"Intel has it they built a new night club here in London called XOYO V2 after the last one got trashed in the Reaper war! Completely new high tech design, four times the size, imports from all the galaxy!"

"Yeah! And now the Lance of Light is going to conquer it as well! WhooOOO!" Atharia exclaimed, having just emerged from downstairs as well!

The trip through London was not quiet, and it was not slow either; with Sila turning what SHOULD have been a slow, "old-timey" and bulky double decker hover bus into a fast, albeit bulky tiger! If anything, Sila's handling of the double-decker could more be described as that of a dancing Krogan... except the Krogan could actually (somehow!) dance and not suck at it!

By the time the double double-decker bus had arrived outside a long street with a flashy colored omni-sign visible on a long, boxy and black building labeled XOYO V2; Ellis would already have become an object of decoration for half of the Asari on the bus as they tried to decorate him akin to a christmas tree, with various charms, hats, cloaks, flags or necklaces! As the propulsion engines of the bus finally stopped, Ellis looked less like a mech-suit, and more like a walking effigy of adornments and fancy cloth!

Look at you. You look like you should feel. Ellis thought.

Shut up, you. This appears to be an honor in their culture.

But in your culture-

She picked me up twice. I owe her.

"WE'RE HERE, GIRLS! EVERYONE OFF!" Sila called out, as half the Asari in the bus had already surged out and mingled with the crowd outside of the nightclub. Ellis, whether he'd want it or not, suddenly found himself lifted up with the biotics of some of the Asari and slumped onto the pavement at the side of the bus, breaking a few blocks while at it; before Vella, Ellie and Athari followed after.

"TO THE ENTRANCE!"
"YEAAAAHHH!"
"WHOOOOO!"

*

"NO MECHS ALLOWED!"

The Krogan bouncer dressed in a smart tuxedo to cover his scarred exterior standing at the entrance of the nightclub answered adamantly as he saw the throng of Asari and Ellis approach the door, raising a leathery hand.

"This nightclub is for humanoids only. Any mechs are to be left outside." The Krogan said, folding his arms and looking up at Ellis with a look of defiance as he moved himself to stand like a mountain between them and the entrance.

"Damn, I didn't think of that... " Vella whispered quietly to herself, her purple eyes shifting between Ellis and the entrance of the night club.

Ellis looked around, he had to think quick. His thoughts raced a million miles a second, traversing galaxies and nebulae and crossing space and time to bring him to the void beyond the wall of alcohol-induced cataton-

I've got it! He spoke,

"I'm handicapped."

The Krogan didn't look quite convinced. "NERO, tell him."

"Testimony confirmed. This suit is designated Cerberus Leviatha-"

"-NERO, SHUT UP." Ellis tried to give his best rendition of a smile at the Krogan, then remembered that not only could the man not see his face. But Ellis could see his, and it looked fairly unhappy, even to Ellis' drunk-goggled eyes.

At least now I know why I always feel the need to announce it.

Yes, we did always wonder why you did that.

"Yeah. And Salarians can be trusted." The Krogan bouncer answered with a sarcastic tone as he eyed Ellis with two beady eyes.

"Are you discriminating against disabled people?!"
Vella had all but jumped on the Krogan as she leaned in past Ellis, pointing an accusing finger at the large, antromorphoic reptile!
"You know some people aren't lucky to have been born with multiple spines!"

"Krogan don't have,-"

"This is atrocious! I can't believe an esteemed place like this treats their more vulnerable customers like this!" Atharia had jumped in as well, throwing the Krogan an accusing look as she backed up Vella!

"Yeah! Poor Ellis here broke his spine in a construction accident, helping rebuild Earth, Thessia and Tuchanka! And when he wants to enjoy some normal life, he meets THIS kind of prejudice?"

"That doesn't even,-" The Krogan tried, before Vella had already continued.

"This is unacceptable! Girls, let's write a review so people know how despicable this place treats its customers!"

"You are completely misconstruin,- ... well shit."

The Krogan bouncer was about to retort, but when he saw the Asari in front of him suddenly bring up more than two dozen shimmering omni-tools, he let out a frustrated sigh!

"Wait! Fine! I mispoke! You can come in, but don't cause any trouble! ... the boss man is going to fry my quads for this either way...."

The Krogan begrudgingly stepped to the side, as more than half of the Asari in Vella's group had forgotten about their omni-tools and already flooded in!
Vella looked at Ellis, tapping his suit and nodding for him to follow her in!

"See! It all worked out! Come on!"

Ellis raised his hands, inadvertantly denting the doorframe. "YES! HAHAHA!" He followed behind Vella, enjoying the weird vibrations that came through his suit's insulatory gel to the thumping beat of the music. A couple folks gave him dirty looks when he came in. No one he recognized.

Probably just pissed someone brought a mech in here.

Probably just pissed someone let you in here.

The lights flashed thousands of colors in several seconds, sometimes just strobing, other times pulsing more slowly.

*Thomp*

*Thomp*

*Thomp*

Even the heavy mechanical steps accompanying Ellis wherever his overly bulky mech frame walked became muffled in the drowning sound of the insides of the nightclub, feautring a large open dance floor, the entire ground made up of a large vid-screen that constantly flashed a neverending blur of colors and lights. And above, three series of hollowed out levels that allowed guests above to watch down. And from every possible angle, lights kept constantly blinking in a blinding maze of colors!

If anyone in the party was prone to epileptic seizures, they would probably be spazzing out at this point!

"Oi! Ellis!" Vella called out to Ellis, even her own loud voice barely audible over the cocophony of noise that was the music of the place! Catching Ellis's "eye" with her own, she motioned towards the dance floor with her head.

"Cerberus taught you any moves?!"

Ellis had never danced before, but as he'd found on many, many occasions, wearing a mechsuit is an excellent confidence booster. He discovered he rather like the flashing lights and energy of the dancefloor, particularly when he discovered that simply by waving his arms, he could clear a wide area. So, he decided to try out the only dance move he knew: a classic human dance called "the robot".

Arms waving, massive carapace slinging about haphazardly, Ellis was a walking, (dancing), hazard.

You look like a fool

WHO CARES?

"HAHAHA! DANCING IS FUN!" One of his arms struck a light fixture, showering him in a beautiful pyrotechnic display of orange sparks. He tried "breakdancing", as he'd seen in a number of old vids, particularly ones that took place in the late twentieth century, and whirled across the floor like a hurricane. Security had been eyeing him from the start, and they approached, a tall Batarian and wide Krogan with angry faces.

The noise created by the breaking glass of the ground and random destruction wrought by the heavy mech suit that now decided to do a breakdance of all things on the dance floor could be heard almost across the deafeaning music!
Glass panes were crunched under the weight of Ellis' mechanical frame, and terrified spectators found themselves fleeing the center of the dance floor to avoid Ellis's shenanigans!

Vella, Ellie, Sila and Atharia on the other hand all found themselves cheering Ellis on!

It was, regrettably, only the first time Vella had ever seen a dancing mech suit! Something she'd wished she had seen sooner, with how Ellis inadvertently and systematically ruined the entire dance floor!

"Hey, Vella! Look!" Atharia suddenly poked Vella's shoulder, to point at the oncoming duo of security guards; eyeballing the whirling mech currently trashing the dance floor.

" .. we're going to need a distraction!" Vella quickly muttered, her voice mostly drowned out by the blaring cococphony of music that constantly raged on in the place. Quickly eying her surroundings, she spotted a Salarian currently recording the dancing Ellis with his omni-tool, standing behind a Krogan.

Conjuring a light biotic force, Vella would suddenly launch it across the room, hitting said Krogan in the back!

The Krogan, feeling the hit; would turn around, spotting the Salarian. A moment of confusion passed across the Krogan's face, clearly surprised a Salarian could hit that hard, before it turned into an angry scowl, as the Krogan suddenly grabbed the unsuspecting Salarian, and lifted him up into the air!

As the two security guards were approaching the dancing Ellis from behind, they would suddenly both stop; before a flying Salarian came falling out from the air and landing right on the Batarian; his Krogan buddy shouting out something that was completely drowned out by the music!

"That should buy Ellis a few more moves." Vella grinned as she watched the spectacle, the Krogan security now suddenly (trying) having a heated exchange with the other Krogan that had thrown the Salarian across the room, all the while helping his Batarian buddy back up!

But Ellis didn't have any more moves in him. Not dance moves, anyway. He'd just seen a Krogan throw a Salarian across the club into some poor Batarian bastard. Now, Ellis was a different kind of excited. He strode to the bar, feet pounding on the floor like an extra bassline, and picked up a stray glass, still half full of a forgotten drink. The Salarian struggled to his feet in the corner. People were shouting, but Ellis couldn't hear it over the music. He stomped back to Vella and said, "Hey, watch this." But he wasn't sure if she heard him or not. Still, this was a rare opportunity. The two krogans seemed to have finished their dispute, though one seemed quite peeved with the other. This was a rare opportunity for Ellis, as he doesn't often get the chance to see two Krogans brawl against one another. Surprising to some, certainly, but Ellis had rarely ever been in the company of non-humans. Tonight, however, non-humans were the most fascinating, exciting, and decidedly fun things in the universe. Ellis tossed the glass at the guard's back, showering him in someone's dextro-amino Mudslide. The Krogan spun around, eyes practically burning with rage. Ellis pointed. One Krogan charged another. Ellis shouted "FIGHT!", grabbing Vella's hand with his new white one, motioning for the others to follow, and starting toward the door.

He snickered to himself, until NERO reminded him [i]"Some instances of inciting interspecies violence can be considered light terrorism in Alliance space, Operative. Recommend Low Profile protocol."[\i]

Ellis responded, "But it's Krogan on Krogan. That's not interspecies. Technically."

NERO had only one response. "Unable to connect to Cerberus Information Server."

Ellis disregarded this, and said to himself as they left, "I'm Ellis Taevon and this is my favorite club in London!"

"Are we leaving already?" Atharia asked with a visible disappointed expression on her face as she came carrying a couple of drinks, balancing two on each hand and one in her cleavage; when she saw Vella and Ellis suddenly come running/stomping past!

"Dance room got trashed, gotta go!" Vella exclaimed with a slightl chuckle as she motioned for her to follow; all the while sounds of cheers and screams could be heard from behind as the two Krogan created an on-the-spot smackdown competition on the dance floor; the sound of breaking glass and broken railings audible even through the blaring music of the place!

Getting out might have proved to be a challenge, as a large portion of the crowd, not to even mention the club security, were currently surging towards the dance floor; or what had once been the dance floor; to witness the brawl, omni-tools held high in the air and club security shouting for people to get out of their way!
However, the hulking Ellis would prove to be a veritable plough as he walked through the crowd; as most people either were either pushed or stepped out of the way of what could only be identified as an industrial-grade service mech garbed in some smart looking cloak and hat!

Vella, on the other hand; although she was no small girl by any stretch of the imagination with her near 7ft tall height; found herself more swept and dragged away by Ellis; inadvertently sliding across the crowd with muffled complaint! Behind them though, the rest of the platoon had an easier time however, following in a narrow line in the wake of Ellis!

As Ellis nearly smashed the front door to the nightclub and stepped outside; and the party rushed out into the clear night air, Sila was the first to jump past Vella and Ellis to raise her hands into the air and shout!"

"THAT WAS AWESOME! WE SHOULD DO IT AGAIN!"

"BEE-O-BEE-O!"

"Oh CRAP! EVERYONE GET TO THE BUS!"

Sila´s celebration was cut short by the sound of sirens in the distance, as suddenly; the half-drunk band of Asari suddenly exhibited a surprising level of both discipline and reaction; as they all stormed towards the double-decker bus in a coordinated fashion; Ellis being picked up by a biotic field before he could even raise a protest and slung onto the roof floor as Sila threw her butt into the front seat and began driving.

"Go-go-go-go! We still got 5 more stops to go!"

*

*Beep beep*

The slow, rythmic beep of a forklift currently in action could be heard outside of the police station; as slowly but surely, Sila; driving a small forklift down the street would become visible.

Ahead of the forklift, causing the whole thing to almost lean forward; was the massive bulk of Ellis sitting limp against the heavy claws; a series of belts going around him in a haphazard fashion to hold his heavy bulk in place. He would look even more out of place than when he had gotten his new limbs, now featuring a long, silk velvet cloak over his shoulders, a big, strange wizard hard; some hand made paintings on his chassis, and some mysterious canisters attached to the side of his suit, going into it through some strange tubing.

Behind him, in the seat of the forklift, was Vella; sitting on an uncomfortable Sila's lap with her face mostly going right down into the dashboard, and her already minimalistic outfit almost halfway off her. A big, heavy dufflebag hung over her shoulders and down on her right, almost threatening to pull her out of the forklift.

The hover double-decker bus they had once "commissioned" earlier that evening was currently at the bottom of River Thames; and the rest of the Asari of the Lance of Light either back in their hotels or had found various retreats. A few of the more enduring members had even begun the nachspiel somewhere in London!

"Alright, we're here! Offh!" Sila announced, but got little response from neither Ellis nor Vella; and groaned audibly at the weight of the latter currently preventing blood circulation in her legs!

Slowly driving up to the police station, the Asari would notice the outlines of Skarr and Salissa in the distance.
Letting out a sharp whisper, Sila stepped out of the forklift and waved at Skarr and Salissa.

"Hey! Is this the shuttle-point?"

---

_{Aegon Partinax & Staff Lieutenant Jake Anderson}

Aegon holstered his rifle, content to let the Alliance Marines secure the area. They worked quickly, getting rid of the last of the husks and setting up fields of fire on the collapsed tunnel entryway in the extremely unlikely event of the husks somehow managing to break through the compacted debris. Their leader approached with a grin and Aegon inclined his head in greeting.

"Well well, who would have thought a Council Spectre would have needed rescue?"

"It wasn't a rescue, more of a clean-up job, hence why we called for you." Aegon allowed the barest ghost of a smile to appear on his lips.

Vega laughed, "Good to see you haven't changed at all Snow."

"Likewise, Vega." Aegon had met the Lieutenant Commander after the Battle of London at a bar that special forces operators frequented. They even ran a few joint-operations together after Vega was promoted and made N7. The human was a bit boisterous for his taste, but he was an excellent operator and a steadfast comrade. As such, Aegon didn't even mind Vega's insistence on calling him by a nickname, so chosen for Aegon's appearance and icy demeanor according to Vega. It was a shame that Vega couldn't have joined the task force. He was one of the Alliance's top special forces assets and they wouldn't have allowed it, he would definitely be a more reliable ally than a significant portion of Aegon's own team.

Aegon gestured to the collapsed tunnel,"I need to get topside with these prisoners ASAP. The Council will want a debrief. But I'll have our techs transfer our door exploits to you. Your unit can lock everything down and sweep through with more reinforcements. We can't allow a single one into the city."

Vega shook his head in disbelief, "I knew Cerberus was batshit insane. But experimenting on Husks underneath London? That's way beyond loco. What's this all about? Between you and me? Is this part of something bigger?"

Aegon shrugged, "All I can say is that you should be on alert. Beyond that, it's classified. If you want to know more, you have to be read into the program. Ask Hackett if he'll let you coordinate with us any further, we might have use of you and your unit again. Happy hunting Vega."

With a nod of farewell he walked off, and caught sight of Sartiel. Aegon grimaced and gripped the short human by the collar of his armor, getting into his face and growling lowly at him, "I gave you an order Sartiel. A simple order and you disobeyed. This kind of contempt for command is exactly why I assigned you to backup in the first place. This will be the last time you flaunt a direct order. Do it again and I'll have you transferred to back to the Ascension Project to scrub toilets for the rest of your military career. In the meantime, you're on ammunition modification duty for a month once we embark on our ship. Dismissed." Aegon let him go and walked off, following Jake up top.

He was glad to be in natural sunlight again after their underground fiasco. Aegon was already mentally composing his after action report to the Council and Primarch Victus, waving off the medics who came to check on him. The prisoners were being loaded into a military police transport bound for the Citadel to be handed off to C-Sec and eventually transferred into Spectre custody. It was too risky to keep them here in London and they needed to be interrogated as soon as possible. A few of his men, two former hastatim, accompanied the transport to make sure everything went smoothly.

Aegon followed Anderson to Coats' command center, shaking hands with the Alliance officer. They had fought side by side in the Hammer Assault and a damn fine marksman. For a human, at any rate. He listened to the debriefing with a stony face and nodded after he concluded and Jake walked off. He didn't like Jake saluting to the man though, however much he appreciated the Marine's abilities. Jake was his superior, not the other way around. Aegon decided to make some calls to the Alliance and see about getting Anderson bumped up to Staff Commander.

He turned to Coats, "I'll call the local Turian Engineer Corps detachment and the crisis response unit, I'll have some men transferred here to help with rescue and rebuilding. They'll be here soon. Help you get everything sorted quickly. And some of my guys can come with nathaks to help sniff out survivors. I'll have my yeoman contact the next of kin and inform them that they can apply to the Council for reparations. I'll put in a good word for them, but it's up to your guys to make the visits and talk to the press."

Coats nodded gruffly, "I'll leave the PR to Hackett, he's much better at this than me. But thanks for the assistance, Partinax."

"The least I could do. Till next time."

He turned to leave when Coats called out, "I have a feeling that will be soon, won't it?"

Aegon didn't turn around and walked away, saying, "It very well could be. Keep on the lookout Coats."

The Spectre let Jake handle the speech, deciding to keep his peace. He was liable to tear the team a collective new one for the outcome of the mission but he knew it would be counter-productive at this point. It wouldn't do any good to chide them all when they had actually done a decent job of it, well some of them had. He decided that he would dictate his tactical review of every team member's actions to his omni-tool and forward an individual report to every team-member. Make it more constructive rather than criticizing. It wouldn't take long, they'd each have a new notification by tomorrow. And ultimately, he thought it would achieve better results than dressing them all down like they were in boot camp. Especially to fighters like Rykarn and Skarr who had several decades if not centuries on him in terms of combat experience.

The civilian deaths were unfortunate, but Aegon didn't let it bother him too much, more than a passing regret. Perhaps those people would be alive if the team had held out longer, but the collateral damage was within acceptable limits as far as the Turian was concerned. If the husks had broken through, the losses would have been catastrophic. They had saved far more lives than they hadn't and Aegon wholeheartedly believed the deaths could be firmly laid on Cerberus' door.

He could tell however that the loss was hard on Anderson. Aegon understood. Humans weren't used to casualties the way Turians were, and even Aegon had a few sleepless nights. He spoke up suddenly and commed Jake in a private direct channel, "I was a Lieutenant right out of officer's school, my first command and I was in charge of a Havoc Shock Platoon." Aegon didn't look at Jake, staring off into the distance as they walked.

"Separatists staged an uprising on Aspho. Mutiny at the local garrison. Got their hands on armor and heavy ordinance and geared up to storm the Capitol. They sent us in to take the fight to them before that happened. AA was too hot to do a direct drop so we had to link up with the army, land at the spaceport while some civilians were being evacuated, lots of kids and older folks. I barely stepped out onto the platform when I saw this boy. No more than seven, he had a toy mexta strapped to his back while he was holding onto an older woman's hand. Grandmother, I learned later."

Aegon continued as they drew close to the shuttle, "As soon as he saw us in our shiny silver armor with our jetpacks, he just lit up. His eyes got wide as a star, and he had the biggest, goofiest smile I've ever seen. He waved at us, shouting in excitement. Then he got serious, stood straight up and saluted me as crisp as any officer I've ever seen. I saluted him back and I knew I was looking at a future Havoc trooper. He smiled again but he didn't see me smile back, because I had my helmet on." He remembered everything. The heat of the sun, the roars of ships taking off and landing, the clattering of boots on the tarmac, the cheerful bullshitting of his men over the team com channel.

"One minute I was looking at him, the next he was just gone. I saw the fire take him. Separatist Sympathizer. Rigged fuel tanker. Thirty soldiers armed to the teeth and we couldn't do anything to stop almost a hundred civilians and twenty soldiers dying." Aegon turned to face Jake just as they stood in front of the shuttle door, "People die Jake, even when we do our best. All we can do is keep trying. And making sure we stop the ones responsible before they do it again." With that he entered the shuttle and took a seat by the window.

Aegon was fairly sure Jake would get over it soon, the man was an experienced soldier. He hoped the talk helped at least a bit. One day Jake would realize these kinds of things happened. Innocents were hurt, killed. Even children. But he also knew it wouldn't have helped to tell the whole story. Aegon remembered how horrified he had been, after when he saw the body. The screams of the dying and the crackling of flames while he looked down in shock. The smell creeping in past his filters. How he had thrown up inside his helmet. The look on the parents faces when they came by to identify it. That was the first time he had seen a child die, but it was far from the last. Spirits willing, Jake would learn the lesson. And hopefully he wouldn't have to learn others.

At first Jake was only dimly aware of Aegon speaking to him as they made their way to the shuttle. He assumed the Turian was saying something about the mission, or perhaps mentioning something for the report they were to make to the Council. It was a moment before he realized that his colleague was regaling him with some tale of his past, which went some way to confusing the N7, as up until now Aegon hadn’t actually spoken to him about anything that wasn’t related to their mission. He had gotten the impression that the Turian didn’t actually like him, or having him around, but as long as he was willing to work together, Jake had chosen not to press him. The fact that the other Spectre was opening to him was unique enough to rouse Anderson from his fugue somewhat.

He realised part way through the sentimental tale that this was Aegon’s attempt to try and make him feel better about what had happened. He glanced sideways at the Turian, surprise evident on his face. He really hadn’t thought the man cared at all about him, never mind enough to try and assuage his guilt at failing the families who had lived in that tenement block. Had he really misjudged the Turian so badly? The story itself did little to help Jake – he’d fought through the Reaper wars, so he was long used to people dying on him, no matter what he did – but the fact that Aegon was trying to help him, that meant something. The N7 didn’t say anything, but nodded his thanks before boarding the shuttle.

Aegon stayed quiet on the ride, trading a greeting with the shuttle pilot before he started to check his equipment; breaking down his guns and cleaning them and using his omni-tool to repairs dents and scratches in his armor. He moved quickly, efficiently. He didn't even have to look, focusing on the view as the shuttle flew through the sky. He thought about his wife Visenya, about his children Maegor and Rhaena, about unborn Daemon. He resolved to visit them immediately after debriefing with the Council. Father was on-station too, acting as the Primarch's liaison. They could go to dinner, have a night as a family. Aegon knew he would have to leave the system soon, and he didn't know how long he would be away. He had to make the best of it.

Although. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. It was time he got to know the real Anderson a bit more. After finishing his maintenance, Aegon turned to Jake, "I'll talk to Alliance Brass for you. I think it's time for you to get a promotion. Alenko and Shepard are both Commanders. I'm an Imperator. It's time for you to get ranked up as well."

Jake’s silence continued as the shuttle carried them towards the Citadel. He didn’t trust himself too. His stomach roiled violently, his stomach burning with a noxious cocktail of bile, regret and inhaled dust, topped off with just a splash of Husk gore that had gotten in his mouth during his terrified run through the Cerberus compound, and he feared that if he opened his mouth to say anything, his body would use that as an excuse to empty his belly’s contents. At least that’s the reason he was trying to convince himself was the cause of his silence. Better that than have to deal with feelings.

At the end of the Reaper war he had thought he was done with a lot of things. Done with the cold, sweaty terror of being hunted in the dark places of the world by a pack of raving Husks. Done with matching himself against lunatics from Cerberus, who seen that the whole universe was circling the drain, and decided that they wanted to stand alone regardless, and damn everyone else in the process. Done with hearing how good people had died all because he wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, smart enough, hell just good enough.

A year ago he’d woken up in a hospital bed, where he’d been told that somehow, against all the odds, they’d won the war. He remembered crying at that news, bawled his eyes out in fact, and those tears had only come heavier when he heard that dad had died during the fighting. Seemed the combination of intense jubilation at their victory, grief at the passing of his father, and head trauma had made an idiot him. How could he ever have thought he was done with all the bad things in life? The universe had been a shitty place long before the Reaper’s had reared their ugly heads. It was still gonna be a shitty place now that they were gone. Monsters were still going to hide in the dark placed. People like Cerberus were still going to keep on hurting everyone else around them. Kids where still gonna die.

The realisation, coupled with Aegon’s story, woke him up to the realities of his position somewhat. Just because the Reapers were gone didn’t mean that the worst was over. Jake was a Spectre now. Like it or not, this was the life he’d signed on for. Maybe he wasn’t good enough this time, but wasn’t that just incentive for him to be better next time? Isn’t that what dad would have said? Maybe, he though with a sigh. He didn’t really know if that was what the famed David Anderson would have said or not. Maybe he was always happy with his performance, always feeling that he’d given any task his all, whether he succeeded or failed. Maybe he would have stopped those Husks without collapsing the tunnels. Could be there was a way to stop them that Jake had missed, a way which David might have spotted. With all the awards and commendations, the old man had picked up over the course of his career, it wasn’t without the realms of possibility. The man was a war hero, used to doing the impossible. Jake was just a pale imitation at best.

Truth was, he’d never really known the old man all that well. His father had always been too married to the Systems Alliance to have time for his family, his mother even citing that as reason for their divorce. Jake was slowly coming to terms with the fact that one of the driving factors for him joining the SA, for pushing himself so hard, to applying for N7 training, was all to grab the attention of his father, to make him proud of him. It was probably ironic in some way, that all that time he spent emulating dad’s life in hopes that the old man would take real notice of him n led to Jake becoming a Spectre, the one accomplishment he had to his name that dad never did, and that now he had it, the old man was gone.

Still, even if dad would have said it or not, it was advice to live your life by. Do better next time. It was time to stop trying to be David Anderson MK2, and to start being Jake Anderson. It might be the millionth time he’d made that promise to himself, and he doubted it was going to stick now, but what was the hurt in trying?

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he nearly missed Aegon speaking to him again. He’d have to watch that, otherwise he could risk offending the Turian. Seemed his counterpart wanted to get him a promotion. For the second time he was surprised by his fellow Spectre’s behaviour. And more than a bit flattered. For a moment he was speechless. When he did manage to speak up, his voice was hoarse and croaky from all the dust and debris he’d no doubt inhaled back in those tunnels. Time for him to invest in a proper helmet, maybe.

“Thank you Aegon, the thought means a lot, but I can’t take you up on that. If the Alliance thought I deserved to be a Commander, I’d be a Commander. I would hate to have you waste favours on the likes of me. I’ll earn the role if I deserve it, or I’ll remain a Lieutenant. That’s how it is. That’s how it should be.” Not that he needed to tell a Turian that. The Hierachy was a perfect example of a Meritocracy in action, and Partinax seemed like the epitome of that, on paper at least. He was good at his job, so he had advanced in the ranks until he held a position of incredible power, a position where his skills could have the greatest effect. Anderson would be lying if he said that he said he didn’t feel he deserved the position of Commander already, at least on some small level, or that he wasn’t tempted by Aegon’s offer, but he knew that if he didn’t earn the position himself, then he would never feel comfortable in it.

“Of course, a simple commendation to the top brass from a seasoned, respected Spectre wouldn’t go amiss. Only if my performance deserved it, mind you, though between everything that went down back in those tunnels, I’d be more than surprised if you got time to watch me on top of everything else.” He added with a slight grin, before leaning back into his chair with a long groan, stretching his legs out in front of him, trying to ease some of the physical strain in his muscles. Look at me. One year out from active field duty, and I can barely go the pace. The guys at the Villa would have me for breakfast right about now. Reyes, his old instructor from back in his trainee days, would have forced him up to go for a five mile run if he had seen him in this state, screaming obscenities at him the whole way. He missed Reyes. He wondered were the old man was now. Hopefully still alive, still kicking new N7 hopefuls lives hell. The instructor had seemed bulletproof back when Anderson knew him, so he doubted that anything, even the end of the world, could have put him down.

Aegon slightly grinned back though Anderson may not have noticed it, humans often found Turian facial expressions hard to decipher, "I understand. It'll come when it will, but I expect you won't have to wait much longer. You did a good job of leading your fireteam through that chaos. I was a little busy to note everything, but you managed to lead them and a bunch of prisoners through that mess with no fatalities and with good intel. Impressive. It'll definitely be in my report." Aegon felt himself reevaluate Jake. Either he was the best spy he'd ever seen or he was what he looked like, a forthright and honest sort. Jake did not seem like an informant. But he still had to keep a close eye on him. Just because he likely wasn't spying on him didn't mean he could trust him completely yet. Regardless, most would have jumped on Aegon's offer, turning it down demonstrated character. He wondered how Jake's idealism would be affected by his Spectre status. Would he hold onto that honor? Time would tell.

Anderson grinned back at his colleague before closing his eyes, wondering if he’d get enough time for a nap before they arrived at the Citadel, though was interrupted when Aegon spoke up again.

"Also, after this business with the Council is done, we still have almost a whole day before we meet the team again. My family's on station, I was going to have dinner with them. Why don't you join us? They just rebuilt that seafood bar, that Shepard trashed last year. Good food, drinks, I'm fairly sure there will be quite a few single women. And you'll get to meet the famous General Partinax. We can get our mind off of Cerberus and relax a bit before we have to dive back into things. What do you think?" Visenya had already met Jake before when they were formulating the dossiers and intel packages for the first mission but as far as Aegon knew, Jake hadn't yet met one of the most decorated officers in the Hierarchy. The two of them hadn't interacted outside of the Task Force much, Aegon thought it'd be a good opportunity for them to get to know each other a bit better. And for Aegon to determine if Jake was keeping an eye on him for the Council.

This time Jake was really rocked. If anyone had ever struck him as being the type to keep his home and work lives separate, it was Aegon. He sat up a bit straighter to look the Turian in the eye, wondering if this was some kind of joke. The other Spectre seemed to be serious. Surprises, it seemed, never ceased.

Anderson’s first thought was to politely turn down the offer. He doubted he’d be very good company tonight – in fact he was planning on having some alone time with a bottle of the hard stuff to try and drown the day’s unpleasant memories – and the thought of having to play nice with Aegon’s wife, kids and father wasn’t all that enticing. More importantly, this could be the Turian’s last chance to spend some time alone with his family for a while. Jake really didn’t want to encroach on that.

Conversely, this felt like Partinax was really reaching out to him. Could he just throw that back in the other man’s face? Maybe they could stand to develop a more cordial working relationship. The Task Force could only benefit from it, right? Against his better judgement, he decided to take Aegon up, though only if the man was certain.

“You sure? This might be your last chance to get some alone time you’re your family for who knows how long. Certain you want me there, making the place look untidy?”


Aegon nodded firmly, "I have a feeling we'll be hanging around the Citadel for at least a few more days, my family and I will still have a chance for quiet evening. Besides, Visenya has been asking me to set something up for months now, ever since the Council assigned you and I as partners. I figured it was time." Aegon deliberated a bit before speaking, "I think I can tell Visenya we should have a home-cooked meal instead. It'll be quieter than a restaurant, let us recharge our batteries. And don't worry about the food. My wife cooks Dextro and Levo. She's liaised with the Salarians, the Hanar, the Asari, even humans. She picked up some tricks. I'll let you go back to your place and get cleaned up a bit and I'll forward you the address to our apartment. It's on the Silversun Strip, so if the mood strikes us, we can always grab some drinks after the kids are put to bed. Sound like a plan?" Aegon wasn't what you'd call the overly social type, but he recognized the value of forming camaraderie. He was going to be working with Anderson for quite a while. It would only be a benefit to get a read off of him.

Anderson grinned back. Dinner at a Turian’s place? He was fairly certain that dad had never done that either. Always good to get another leg up on the old man. “Sounds like a plan to me partner.” The ‘date’ set, he settled back into his chair and closed his eyes once more.

Finally, the Citadel filled up the viewport. Aegon didn't like the fact that the seat of galactic government was deeply entrenched in human territory now. Before it had been in neutral ground. Now the humans had yet another political edge. They were becoming more and more powerful by the month, as the Alliance continued to rebuild its military and annex devastated Terminus colonies. It was too unfeasible to do so now with repairs still underway, but Aegon hoped the Council would move the station back to the Serpent Nebula as soon as possible. As the shuttle entered the station arms Aegon observed the orbiting ships. The space traffic was as dense as ever, though the proportion of military vessels was still very high. The Turians still had the most ships in the Citadel fleet but the humans were fast catching up. The station had barely started recovering from the first Reaper attack. After the attempted Cerberus Coup and the last Reaper invasion, it was back to square one for most of the station. Thanks to C-Sec, CDF, the military garrisons, and personnel on shore leave, the Citadel population had mostly survived the attack but thousands had still died and everything outside of the Presidium had varying levels of damage. Most of the station barely had power. And it was still overcrowded by refugees of all races who were waiting for their homes to be rebuilt to return. The squalor was just as bad as any planestide port city now. The criminal underground and black market had returned in a big way as well. Aegon vowed to help the station recover its past glory, and soon. He would not let the seat of the galaxy turn into Omega.

The shuttle was quickly cleared by control and it docked in the private hangar reserved for Spectres. Aegon saw the towers and high-rises with crumbled roofs and shattered facades. He had to make sure this never happened again. Aegon exited the shuttle and waited for Jake before quickly passing through the security scanners. Aegon found an empty reserved skycar and hopped in the driver's seat, ready to take off for the Presidium and then the Citadel tower, "Time to face the powers that be Anderson." Some Spectres were somewhat standoffish to the Council but Aegon had always had a cordial relationship with them. Though he wondered what new crisis they would go to him for a solution.

Jake followed Aegon into the skycar and settled himself into the passenger’s seat. Trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach. How could the Turian be so blaise about all this. Didn’t he realise they were going to a meeting with four of the most powerful, most important people in the galaxy? Didn’t that phase him at all? It phased Anderson. Phased him a lot. To the point that he was actually silently hoping for another horde of Husks to come careening through the Citadel and give him an excuse not to go see the Council. He looked at Aegon and gave him a queasy smile.

“Let’s hit it.”

---

---

_{Presidium Council Chambers}

Anderson trudged up the Citadel Tower anteroom stairs behind Aegon, uncaring of the less than heroic figure he was cutting. He hurt too bad, and was far too nervous by half, to concern himself with the thoughts of others, or how they may be viewing him.

He’d heard that the Tower had needed extensive repairs after debris from the Reaper ship, Sovereign, had crashed into it during the battle of the Citadel. Integrating milky way technology with the advanced construction methods involved in the Tower’s build had been a slow, laborious process, so slow that repairs had still been ongoing when the full Reaper force had struck. Of course the war had put a halt to the proceedings, and for the duration the Tower had remained in its unfinished state. Only after the hostilities had ceased had the repairs been resumed. Fast tracked in fact. Several high-ranking officials had felt that providing an illusion of stability to the galaxy was preferred to actually supplying it with the actuality of stability, and to that end they restored the seat of galactic power to something resembling it’s one time glory. Half of the galaxy was still cut off thanks to the destruction of the Relays, and countless worlds still suffered the effects of almost complete devastation, but at least the Council had somewhere pretty to hold their meetings.

It was actually the first-time Anderson had been present in the Tower. He’d been instigated as a Spectre over vid-com in the hospital he’d woken up in after he’d woken up out of his coma, and so had never actually met the Council in person. Well, all except Councillor Dominic Osoba of course, the human representative. He’d made a point of coming to earth to introduce himself personally after Anderson’s appointment. Jake liked the man, seeing him as an earnest man who was working himself to the bone for the betterment of his people. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Osoba, who occasionally seemed like he was well out of his depth, had been promoted beyond his abilities due to the dearth of real political experience in the post Reaper galaxy.

Come to think of it, thought Jake, maybe that’s what Osoba thought about him.

Aegon led the way into the Council audience chamber and stopped. For a moment Jake took in the surroundings, letting his eyes roam along the Terran and alien vegetation that made up the impressive gardens, combining plants and flowers from each of the Council race planets to make a one-of-a-kind horticulture statement about the role of the Council itself. ‘We take the best parts of all our worlds and cultures to create something that transcends the sum of our parts.’ It was breathtakingly stunning, even for a man as uninterested in all things gardening as Jake, the exotic scents and colours combing in a sense-tingling medley. He wished he had more time to admire the scene, but he couldn’t put off the Council for ever.

More’s the pity.

He raised his gaze to the Councillors. He first met the gaze of Osoba, who gave him an almost imperceptible smile. Anderson smiled back, though was more than a touch concerned to see the rash of unattended dark stubble, and the impressive bags that had formed under the Councillors eyes. Seemed the new job, which was originally only supposed to be temporary, was a bigger drain on the man than it had first seemed.

Among the other Councillors, only Tevos, the Asari was looking at him, though he was getting the uncomfortable feeling that he was being studied, rather than observed, her storm-grey eyes seeming to be moving across his frame, measuring his dimensions and plumbing his depths. Valern, the Salarian’s, features were shadowed by the depths of his voluminous hood, while Sparatus, the Turian, stood with his arms crossed, appearing to share a look with Aegon, though what the significance of it was, Anderson couldn’t say.

After a few moments silence, Tevos stepped forwards, the task of opening the meeting obviously falling to her.

“Specte Partinax. Spectre Anderson. Please, make your report.” Her voice was smooth, measured, almost melodious. If Anderson had to describe it, he would have said it sounded like velvet and honey, equal parts rich and luxurious. He doubted his words would be quite so steady. He took a deep breath, hoping it would calm him. It didn’t. He stepped forwards, opened his mouth and –

“We’ll hear it from Partinax.” The Turian Councillor barked, cutting him off. Anderson stood with his mouth half-open for a heartbeat, before stepping back and falling silent, like a good soldier. He and Aegon may be the same rank, technically, but his partner was his senior, he reminded himself. Of course the Council would rather hear their reports from the veteran. Still, looking Spartax’s face, the hardness of his gaze when their eyes met, something told him that this was less about his experience in the job, and more about his race. Councilor Osoba’s slightly flushed cheeks only reinforced that belief.

Aegon's face was stone as he was called forward. Spartarus may be his superior and a family friend, but Aegon didn't appreciate the lack of respect towards Anderson. Jake was a Spectre, he should be treated as such. Though Aegon supposed he couldn't expect anything more from the gruff Turian Councillor. Spartarus had been a veteran of the Relay 314 Incident and had little love for humans. And even less for David Anderson, who had also been a veteran of the battle and who had butted heads with Spartarus frequently when Anderson had been a member of the Council. Even Commander Shepard had been held in distaste by Spartarus until he saved the Primarch. Meanwhile Jake was already starting off in Spartarus' bad graces. Aegon said nothing however. It wouldn't do to get into an argument with the Council so early in proceedings and the older Turian had been a comrade of his father's. Spartarus and Aegon had mutual respect. Aegon would not jeopardize that by calling him out in front of the whole Tower. Instead he traded a respectful nod with the Turian Councillor.

He did the same with Tevos, Valern, and Osoba. Tevos was a beautiful woman, and one of the shrewdest politicians he'd ever met. She wasn't always approving of Aegon's aggressive methods but he always got the job done and they had a solid working relationship. It was much better to be in her good graces than not, her political tendrils stretched all across the galaxy. Aegon and Valern were on amiable terms as well, the Salarian had intelligence contacts that rivaled even the Shadow Broker. His help could be costly, but it was well worth the price. Osoba however, Osoba was an unknown quantity. He had only been Councillor for less than a year and most of that time had been spent collaborating with what few surviving human politicians were left as well as the Alliance, to rebuild Earth. He had done an admirable job of managing the chaos but the man was haggard and almost certainly out of his depth. Aegon had only spoken with him on a handful of occasions, their professional relationship was still developing. But Aegon was of the opinion that while Osoba was nominally the most powerful human left alive, that position actually fell to Admiral Hackett. Time would tell how the balance of power in the Alliance evolved.

Aegon nodded to all of the Councillors and extended his omni-tool. A shimmering barrier enveloped the speaker's platform and the Council dais. The barrier was sound-proof, and jammed any potential electronic surveillance and scrambled extranet reception. Aegon spoke, "Apologies Councillors. But what follows must remain secret."

Valern nodded, "We understand the necessity Partinax. Please, proceed."

Aegon relayed the events of their mission, his posture as straight as a sword, "The mission was a success. We have concluded with absolute certainty that the rogue operatives were members of Cerberus. Their base was pacified and Alliance Special Forces are combing over the facility as we speak. We managed to prevent the escape of several scientists and took them into custody and even managed to retrieve sensitive data. However, complications arose."

"Complications?" Osoba cut in, his face reddening as his voice reached a shout, "People died! Civilians! Your team of psychopaths and criminals set off high-explosives under a populated tenement building. Do you know the backlash that we're facing because of this? An explosion in London just a year after the Reaper War? We nearly had a mass panic. Your team was supposed to go in stealthily and discreetly. Instead they got innocents killed. And now Terra Firma is having a field day with this. They're already spinning it as Alliance militarization and alien-fraternization run amok. Sarancino is agitating them and organizing a protest as we speak. What's left of Alliance Parliament and the King of England are both furious. And frankly so am I. What the hell happened down there Partinax?"

Aegon showed no visible reaction to Osoba's outburst. He understood the man's frustration and he couldn't blame him. Apparently Tevos couldn't either, "I don't necessarily agree with my colleague's tone but I share some of the sentiment. We're used to your style of operation but this was sloppy by your standards Partinax. And that sloppiness has caused quite a bit of trouble. We want answers."

"The casualties were unfortunate but also unavoidable on our part. The explosion was necessary, because Cerberus had been experimenting on husks." That drew their attention. All four of the Councillors stared at each other, trading glances at the uneasy news as Aegon continued, "The operation went off without a hitch until a Cerberus scientist deployed the husks in a bid to escape. They had been rounding up every husk left behind in the aftermath of the war. Anderson's fireteam had over two thousand husks on their tail. It was Anderson's quick thinking to lock down the facility and funnel them towards the team. Otherwise they would have spread out all over the underground and made their way to the surface and the casualties would have been staggering."

Spartarus interjected, "Two thousand? How did Intelligence miss this? How did we not know?"

Aegon replied, "We have no firm conclusions. But the facility was highly advanced. It's likely Cerberus found a way to mask the Reaper signatures from even the most intense scans. And they've been alone down there for almost a year. We wouldn't have noticed the round=up of the husks since our forces were so busy with recovery and repair on the surface. There is also the possibility that elements within our intelligence services helped obscure that information."


Valern stroked his chin with his hand, "A chilling possibility, but one we cannot rule out. I'll have Spectre Lonar Maerun begin investigating any potential leaks discreetly. Continue Partinax."

Aegon nodded, "Anderson's team managed to link up with ours right before the Husks hit us. The corridor was tight and we managed to stem the tide. I ordered the team to stand their ground. But we had to send men after prisoners who escaped and send others to exfil the prisoners and data we did have to ensure the success of the mission. We couldn't hold the firing line any longer without endangering the whole team. The Husks would have run into Vega's unit and done the same, then they would have rampaged through the city, killing spirits know how many before they would be put down. We had to blow that tunnel to stop them. Crisis Response did a good job, but they weren't fast enough for the building right above. That's why those people died Councillors and while I regret those
losses, I maintain that the mission was a success and that we did everything we could have."

Spartarus grumbled, "You could have had your team hold ground until they were in the ground, Partinax. That's what soldiers do. Not that they're all soldiers, but they are expendable, that's why we let you hire a gang of rogues and outcasts. As long as you were left standing to pull the trigger, the rest of them could have fought to the end. And the galaxy might have been better off without those thugs running around now." Aegon noticed that Spartarus didn't even mention Anderson and wondered whether the Councillor considered Jake an expendable element. He didn't get to ask however.

Valern spoke up, "True, but the situation was clearly hopeless. There was no way that they would have survived the horde and it is unlikely that any further delay would have significantly altered the casualties, even if the whole team fought to the death. And even then, they would still have needed to seal the tunnel. Partinax and Anderson are decorated soldiers, and the whole of Task Force Katabasis is an operational asset that we will need to combat Cerberus and other threats that arise. Ultimately, they are much more essential to the safety of the galaxy than a few civilians."

Osoba grimaced, "A few civilians? We're talking about innocent people. Children for God's sake."

Valern looked at his human colleague, "I realize that. And you should realize that we're talking about matters of galactic security. Casualties will be inevitable." Osoba looked like he was about to argue further when Tevos stepped in, "Gentlemen, we can argue about this all day long but the fact of the matter is that Partinax and his task force completed their mission successfully. It is regrettable that innocent lives were lost but that is the reality of missions requiring Spectre involvement. A dozen deaths are much preferable to a whole district. I am satisfied with Partinax's explanation of those unfortunate events and I move that we proceed to more urgent matters, specifically the intelligence that was gathered on this mission."

Valern and Spartarus nodded and after a moment so did Osoba. Tevos turned to Aegon, "Please, tell us what you found. What were they doing down there?"

Aegon nodded in thanks, "In the last stages of the war, Shepard discovered that Cerberus had conducted experiments into controlling Reaper troops for their own use. The experiments were stopped and it was thought that all knowledge of the project was lost with Henry Lawson and Jack Harper, also known as the Illusive Man. However it is clear that Cerberus managed to recover at least some data and was restarting the project. They didn't have control of the Husks but their work was still ongoing and we cannot rule out the possibility that other facilities are working on the same experiments. Furthermore, we discovered the project was overseen by an individual only referred to as the Director. This individual is likely the same Director that ran the Barn, that Cerberus research station that Ex-Cerberus operator Randall Ezno and Hierarchy Forces dismantled during the war."

Spartarus frowned, "The Barn? Is this the same man who killed Aenys?"

Aegon grimaced, his first display of emotion since the meeting began, "All evidence indicates it." Aenys Partinax, one of Aegon's brothers, had been captured by Cerberus before the Hierarchy stormed the Barn. Aenys had broken out and had run amok, had killed many of Cerberus' men and almost escaped before they finally pinned him down. Aegon had vowed since then that the Director would die by his hand.

Aegon continued his briefing, "In the files, reference was also made to Three Heads. The mythological Cerberus is a three-headed beast, and as the Illusive Man is dead, it is probable that Cerberus is now led by three individuals. It is likely that the Director is one of these heads. A reference was also made to a General. Petrovsky is in custody so this must be another military official. Cerberus has historically been divided into Cells that range from political to military to scientific in function. Since the General and the Director are heavily suggested to be two of the heads, the last head is most likely a spymaster who is in charge of Cerberus' espionage efforts."

Osoba cut in, "But we don't even know their real names?"

"No, no reference is made to the true identities of the Three Heads. But intelligence services will immediately begin building profiles and compiling lists of likely subjects. Lawson might have some insight into the matter as well."

Spartarus shook his head, "I can't believe we're allowing a former terrorist to work with the Alliance. Shepard allying with Cerberus was bad enough. Now we have the Illusive Man's right hand in an influential position with access to sensitive information. What is Hackett thinking?"

Osoba replied, "Former right hand. And Ms. Lawson was an incredible asset during the war and now. It is very possible we never would have heard about Cerberus' operations in London without her intelligence."

Aegon interrupted, "In any case, she will be useful, and I want to speak with her soon. Additionally, we have confirmed that Terra Firma is involved with Cerberus. We have intel that reveals that Cerberus is funneling credits to the organization. Unfortunately, no names are named and we have no idea how far up the chain this goes and whether or not Saracino is involved. One of our mission priorities will be to infiltrate Terra Firma and identify the Cerberus sympathizers."

Osoba pursed his lips, "Saracino was always a bastard, even more so now that he's one of the only MPs left alive in Parliament. But terrorism? I don't know if he's capable of that."

Spartarus waved a hand in dismissal, "We didn't think that Udina was capable of that either and we were wrong. It is clear that Cerberus has always been an infectious presence in the Alliance. It would not surprise me to find that even now they have infiltrated the highest levels of human government."

Osoba glared at the Turian, "If you are suggesting what I think you are-"

Tevos raised a hand, "Gentlemen, enough. Partinax, it is clear that you will have to investigate the matter closely and quietly. We cannot afford a mistake. Find out who the traitors are and bring them into the light. Did you find anything else?"

Aegon shook his head, "The only other firm knowledge we have is that this Cell is far from the only one. There are others and the caliber of equipment at this Cell's disposal shows that their resource network is as vast as ever. The Husks are only one piece of the puzzle, Terra Firma is another. It is clear Cerberus is trying to build an army, I believe Husks are simply one component of that army. The files suggest that the Director is overseeing several projects and if past history is any indication, all of them will prove to be threats. In the past they've experimented on AI, on controlling Rachni, on enhancing Biotics, on extreme augmentations. It is very possible they have revived these projects and are conducting other even more dangerous experiments. Other than that however, we have nothing firm. The rest of the data that we recovered must still be examined and the prisoners we captured must still be questioned. I gave my team 24 hours to finalize their affairs. We will begin tomorrow and I will inform you of any new intelligence we receive. But there are some matters which I believe must be discussed."

Valern nodded, "Very well, Partinax, continue."

"Firstly, in light of Cerberus' resurgence and Terra Firma's growing extremism, it is essential that security detail be improved on the Citadel. We found one Cell in London, it is likely there is another. And the Citadel is within striking distance. I recommend that the Tower Honor Guard be doubled and the C-Sec and CDF patrols be increased significantly, particularly in the Presidium and especially around the embassies."

Spartarus nodded, "All reasonable precautions. Tensions are still high, even without these terrorists in the mix. And now we have embassies from the Krogan, the Batarians, the Rachni, even the Quarians and Geth of all things. An attack would be disastrous. It will be done Partinax."

Aegon continued, "Furthermore, the position of Warden is still unfilled. As one of the most senior Spectre operatives left, I request the Council consider my candidacy for the office. We are receiving word of old and new threats both emerging. We have to be prepared."

Osoba frowned, "Warden? That would give you command of the entire Citadel fleet."

"The fleet will be needed in the near future, I am sure of it, and someone must lead it."

"But it doesn't have to be you. Shepard is the logical choice."

Aegon replied, "Shepard is not here."

Valern piped in, "That is because he is on a sensitive mission."

"Exactly, Shepard's activities take him off the grid on many occasions. He's assigned the most dangerous jobs you can think of. He doesn't have the time to organize the Fleet."

"You won't exactly be freely available if you're running Katabasis", Valern pointed out.

"I'm not alone. Anderson is a capable commander as well. With both of us at the helm, assuming the position of Warden will not be an issue."

Tevos cut off any further discussion, "You're not the only Spectre lobbying for the position Partinax. We have many qualified candidates and there is plenty of time to choose from them. We will discuss this another time. Your priority will be on acquiring intelligence. Is there anything else?"

Aegon shook his head, "No, Councillor."

"Very well. You both have your mission. Good luck, may the Goddess go with you."

With that, Tevos disabled the barrier and the debriefing was over.

Aegon backed away from the platform, turned on his heel and walked off calmly, trusting Jake to follow. The meeting had gone as well as he'd hoped. He knew the Council probably wouldn't have given him the position without considering the other candidates. But it was a start. And now it was time to more important things, namely dinner with his family.

As they moved through the Tower they passed through a long line of other petitioners and a large array of Citadel Honor Guard. The mixed unit of Turian, Asari, Salarian, and Human guardsmen had been mostly ceremonial but after the events of the Reaper War the Council had turned the unit into a serious protection force for the Tower and the Council. The unit was made of C-Sec and military personnel from the Council Races; and many of them had been veterans of the Cerberus Coup and the Reaper Occupation during the war. Aegon knew that there were snipers in the rafters as well. After what had happened the year past, the Council had to beef up security intensely.

On the way to the elevator, Aegon spotted a long-time friend and colleague. Jondom Bau was making his way to the audience chamber, bypassing the line by dint of his Spectre status. The Salarian smiled at Aegon, a gesture which he reciprocated as the two shook hands. Aegon introduced Jake to Bau, "Anderson, this is Jondom Bau. He helped spearhead the Spectres' alliance with your military during the war. He's one of the best damned espionage experts in the galaxy."

Jondom grinned, "Charmed. You must be the Admiral's son. He was a good man, it was a shame that he stepped down to let that snake Udina take over. I've heard good things about you, it'll be good to have a soldier of your caliber in our company." Jake smiled, nodding his thanks, taking Jondom’s hand in a firm shake of his own.

“Pleasure to meet you sir. One of your Spectre operations actually saved my bacon during war. Owe you a beer for that."

Aegon spoke up after the introductions, "What brings you to the tower?"

Jondom looked around and lead them to a secluded corner and then leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper, "You didn't hear this from me, but I'm bringing a status report on the situation back on Sur'Kesh."

"That bad?"

Jondom nodded, "Dalatrass Linron is not pleased with STG and the feeling is mutual. Bad blood over our government's aloofness in the war. All of the Dalatrasses and the Military are up in arms about it as well. The Narras are circling, they smell blood in the water and the chance for a coup. It all depends on who STG will back, but they're not a united front. Kirrahe and his group are squaring off with the isolationists."

"Courtly intrigue and assassinations in the alleys? Sounds like business as usual on Sur'Kesh."

"No, this is something different. The Union is being pulled in a dozen directions. And I've heard rumors."

"Rumors?"

"Rumors, but if they're true, I don't know if it's the kind of information I can reveal. Even to you. You understand."

Aegon nodded, "I do. Well, we better be on our way. What I have going on now, I might need some assistance in the future Jondom. Even if I don't, my task force might be of some use to you in the future."

Jondom smiled, "A small army of psychopaths, criminals, and miscreants? I suppose you aren't so different from Shepard after all. But you may be right. I'll let you go. Another time Aegon, and it was nice to meet you Anderson. We'll meet again, maybe sooner rather than later." The Salarian Spectre walked off with a wave. Aegon nodded at Jake and led him to the elevator. Trouble was on the horizon, but for right now Aegon had one thing on his mind. He turned to Jake, "I'll let you get cleaned up, I'll send you the address to my place. Drop by when you're ready. Don't be surprised when the kids ask you war stories, they can't get enough of them."

The elevator opened on to the Presidium and Aegon left with a nod, headed to the Silversun Strip where his family resided in the same building that had once housed Admiral Anderson. Jake ambled off in the opposite direction, describing a lazy pace towards a fast transit station where he could ‘hitch’ a ride towards the Tayseri Ward, where his own, modest apartment was located.

_{Collab between MrDidact and BlackSam}

[Aviza Norea - Formal request to be transferred to Spectre Aegon Partinax’s command: (CURRENTLY PENDING)]

The bold illuminated letters stood out easily against the black background of Avzia’s data-pad, which was built into her armors left forearm for easy access at all times. Swiping her hand across its surface, its screen went black, entering into a low power mode until it would be needed once more. This was the twenty first time that week that she had checked her data-pad to see if she had been approved to join Spectre Aegon Partinax's squad. So far, the message had remained the same and it appeared that a reply wasn't going to come anytime soon. The female Turian had her own reasons for wanting to join Partinax's command, none that she would say openly at this time to anyone who asked her. In truth, having the chance to work under a Spectre's command, one that was none the less a Turian, would prove incredibly educational as well as enlightening. Many doors would open for her after doing so as well, maybe even allowing her to become a Spectre if she played her cards right while in his presence.

With a soft sigh, Aviza leaned back into the metal bench that she sat in and crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes eventually drifted closed and her mind began to wander on her current situation. She had left the Citadel a couple days earlier to meet with her close human friend known as Solares upon Earth, more specifically in the town known as London. They had spent the day together but Solares had to return a nearby airbase to quickly depart from Earth and head to the moon for an emergency meeting regarding the safety of the sector. That would have given Aviza enough incentive to leave the planet and return to her home upon the Citadel, but something told her to stay and enjoy some private time upon her friend’s home world. She had never really spent time inside of a popular human city, let alone on their home world. What better time to do so then now? She was sure her friend would return shortly as well, hopefully.

A gentle, cool and refreshing breeze blew through the park where Aviza sat, overlooking the London and its impressive display of lights. From where she sat, the noise of the city couldn’t be heard, only the rustling of the lush vegetation that surrounded her as the wind blew through it. Taking in a slow, deep breath of the cool night air through her nose, Aviza would wait a few short moments before exhaling through her mouth, enjoying the feeling that it created. She rarely had time to relax like this anymore, to enjoy nature and the tranquility that the night sometimes brought with it. Suddenly behind her, fireworks shot into the sky and rained down golden palms of sparks, followed by a number of other less pleasing fireworks that were obliviously designed for sound and not beauty. Quickly glancing over her left shoulder, Aviza watched as a group of young humans who appeared to be delinquents, continued to set off a number of larger and more loud fireworks as time passed.

Taking this as an excuse to head down into the city and explore the active nighttime life of humans and what they considered entertainment, Aviza slowly stood up and stretched with a gentle yawn. After gathering herself, she choose the path to the left of her that lead back through the way she came, which passed a number of natural streams and a manmade fountain that was surrounded in what appeared to be stone carvings of humans from many centuries ago. After walking through the large stone archway that lead into the park, Aviza immediately realized that she had been in that park by herself for over two hours, sitting in the dark under the night sky. Time had passed by faster than she would of liked it to, and the early evening that she thought it was had now turned into the early hours of the evening. Still though, the city never appeared to sleep and many were out enjoying the night. Was the city always like this or was there some sort of holiday or celebration going on that Solares had forgotten to mention?

Aviza had come to Earth while still wearing her full set of medium Erathellian armor, as well as fully armed and ready to fight. To say she stood out among some of the others would be a vast understatement, and some of those who walked the streets had to double take to make sure they were actually seeing Aviza. This of course not only drew the eyes of civilians but also government officials, such as police officers or soldiers. Seeing armed individuals walking around the city was nothing new, but paranoia and curiosity ran through the minds of those who cared enough about her appearance.

The sound of live music caught Aviza’s attention as she passed one restaurant that gave off the heavy sweet scent of burning wood and meat. The name Raynor’s BBQ and Tavern hung over the entrance of the building. For a moment, Aviza contemplated continuing on with her walk through the city but went against the thought of drawing unwanted attention and pushed the large wooden front door open, stepping inside. It was clear, this place was meant for humans, since the place was packed with them and it appeared they only served Levo-Amino based foods. Still, she noticed the drink menu had a number of things she recognized upon it. Finding a seat at the bar proved a challenge, but when the opportunity arrived, she quickly took it and sat down at the far end of the bar, away from the irritating lights that shined down upon the musicians that played blues. Aviza had heard this music before in recordings but hearing it live was something completely new to her.

The human male bartender walked over to Aviza and handed her a menu with a raised eyebrow, “We don’t have any Dextro based foods here, I don’t want you dropping dead on the floor so maybe you should stick with drinks?” Aviza stared at the man from behind her visor for a long moment, he did have a point, but not all dextro-based lifeforms where the same. “Just show me what you have for drinks, then we shall go from there.” The human nodded his head and handed Aivza a different menu, this one with drinks. After a while, she made her selection, a rare drink that she was surprised that they carried. Without saying a word, she pointed at the drink upon the menu and the bartender nodded his head before quickly heading off to the other side of the bar to make her selection.

Someone from behind her was apparently trying to get her attention now, and Aviza hesitated for a moment, not wanting to find some kind of drunk idiot looking for a fight. Thankfully when she did turn around to face whoever was trying to get her attention, she noticed it was a fellow solider like her, though human. “Pardon me, I hope I am not intruding on your evening but I wanted to ask you about the badges you have on the right shoulder plate of your armor. The first one is clearly the badge of a combat medic but the other two are completely foreign to me.” Aviza was slightly surprised at the human’s question, but was happy to explain to him what each of them stood for. “The first badge is indeed for a combat medic, though this one stands for advanced combat medic training. The second badge stands for advanced engineering that can cover a number of areas. The third and last badge represents my Havoc training, the bars above it show my rank, which is commander.” As soon as Aviza finished talking, her drink was placed in front of her and her attention was now fully on it. The human took the hint, thanked Aviza and then followed up with a salute, then returned to his seat somewhere at the other end of the bar.

For the next hour or so, Aviza would drink in peace, letting her mind wander once more about all that happened around her. The music inside of Raynor's BBQ shifted to something more upbeat as the night continued on. After an hour and a half, Aviza would find herself wandering the streets once more, though slightly more intoxicated than before. Perhaps there was something more to do at night than go eat and drink, perhaps a nightclub, though she had never danced and never planned on doing it. The night was still young though, and her options were still open, only time would tell what happened next.

---

The evening was going surprisingly pleasantly, and Rykarn found himself enjoying Sicaria's company. It was good to know that he was heading off on some assignment with at least one person he had common ground with; being trapped on a starship with a group of people you could barely tolerate was something he didn't care to revisit. Granted, the krogan didn't really know anyone at this point, and he was hardly looking for companionship, but having someone you could talk to or take a break from duties with that didn't make you want to rip their arms off was certainly something that you couldn't put a price on. And so, when the anachronistic batarian and the geth arrived and immediately took a seat next to Rykarn, butting into the conversation like some child who saw a group of kids playing and immediately had to show off all of his toys, Thesaurus of the Skyllian Blitz hopped right into the conversation unwarranted like he'd been there the whole time. On Omega, that's the kind of thing that ended up getting a knife in the gut. Then again, on Omega, someone didn't really need any justification to stab another. It was kind of how things went.

"Breathe. Just breathe." Rykarn muttered under his own breath, turning his head enough that one eye was staring back at Ja'Far. "Nosy little pyjak, aren't ya?" he asked, downing his drink, the eye never leaving the batarian. It was almost as if Rykarn didn't need to blink. "Do you always introduce yourself to people by telling them you murdered your mother before dropping a name?" glancing back at Sicaria, he added. "You must be swooning." he said to the turian, grinning. Turning back to Ja'Far, he ordered up another glass, his pile of empties already growing.

"It's also common courtesy to ask if you can butt-in and eavesdrop with people you don't know who are supposed to be working with you, but given that it sounds like you've spent most of your life in a prison jumpsuit or murdering people close to you, I guess we can let it slide. But yeah, Ravanor Rykarn, friend's Sicaria. You've seen us fight. Actually kind of impressed you caught our names. You and the geth know how to fight, too. Give you that."

Ja'Far made a huff sound, taking another drag of his cigar. He had the scars, old wounds and scratches to prove it too. From fighting rebellions throughout the Eagle Nebula to killing a high-caste diplomat and his entourage who thought he could become the "big man", he'd seen it all. At least he thought so. This Krogan seemed to defy all logic when it came to previous knowledge of his species. He was stubborn but diplomatic. He was one of the few people in the Taskforce who was reasonably sane. He didn't want to interrupt the Krogan so he kept these thoughts to himself.

Popping a finger pinch of the stale peanuts in his mouth, Rykarn chewed thoughtfully before continuing. "What brings us here? I helped rebuild this damn place, along with the closest three city blocks, over the past few years. Been coming here nearly every night for a year. So you can imagine, I'm somewhat attached to this place. I don't know if you really want me getting into war stories, you've already seen what I do. Only difference is what I'm shooting at, and you probably wouldn't be too keen on hearing about my time fighting with the Abolitionists on Anhur against the batarians who thought enslaving the human population was a great idea, even though I got some shiny medals for it. We all fought Reapers, so that's not really worth mentioning, although this will be my second time working for a Spectre." He said with a shrug, slowing down on his drink, pondering if he should try one of those fruity cocktails with the paper umbrellas. Being rationed for most of a year made him stick to thinks that hit hard enough to make one drink pay off.

"And coming from Tuchanka, pretty much every day was a war story. It's what krogan do. If we're not killing aliens, we're killing each other, and not giving much of a crap about what gets caught in between. Asking me for war stories is like asking that human over in the corner with the wedding ring mark with his arms wrapped around the young woman with the side cut on his lap how his infidelity's going. It's such a common thing that it takes something really unique to stick out and not get lost in the haze." The Batarian nodded, not fully understanding the depth of Rykarn's knowledge. His species only lived the average 100 years after all, he could not comprehend what it would be like to live for centuries. He shuddered to think of experiencing 10 of his lifetimes, thinking of all the horrors he would encounter in 1000 years. He was happy with his own mortality, thank you very much.

The Geth tilted its head a little as it listened to the Batarian and the Krogan's retort, looking at the three organics sitting before moving to the chair beside Ja'Far. Turning its head to look at them again in examination, before down at the chair. Glowing eye shifting a bit, its three fingers picked up the chair to pull it back, before moving infront of it, gingerly pulling it closer before placing its hindquarters down on the sitting tool. Looking at the other patrons in examination for a moment, it placed its hands on the counter like many others seem to be doing, besides if they lift their drinks to their mouths or are preoccupied with touching other organics. Turning its head to watch Ravanor Rykarn order another drink, his empty glass joining the rest of the krogan's collection, the synthetic looked to the bartender and raised a hand slightly, waving gently to and fro.

"Excuse me, may I partake in a alcoholic beverage?" Phalanx said, earning a pause from the blonde barmaid, arching a eyebrow at the mechanical lifeform.

"...Uh huh. Right. Ya gonna pay? And what kind ya want?" she asked, unsure if she should satisfy this Geth's request.

"Affirmative. Any type will be satisfactory." The Geth answered, earning a roll of the eyes before the female went to get the drink. When she returned, she set a oddly shaped glass container in front of the synthetic. It looked similarly to a milk carton with light brown liquid inside. A odd red and white swirly stick half inside and half hanging outside of it. Phalanx curiously examined it, the metallic faceplating shifting as it moved its head side to side.

"Enjoy the Cereal Killer, robo." The woman mused before moving on to assist other customers. Phalanx looked up from its examination briefly to watch the woman.

"Appreciate the service." it responded before looking to the Krogan as he spoke. Tilting its head slowly before starting to speak to its comrades. "Greetings, Ravanor Rykarn and Sicaria Velinian. System 42009874563001 reporting. Call Sign, Phalanx. Classified, Infiltrator. Pleasant to make acquaintances and further achieve answers. Permission to interact with comrades Ravanor Rykarn and Sicaria Velinian to further relations for the probability of working together for a long period of time?" it repeated in response to the Krogan making introductions. Falling silent as it sat waiting for the permission the Krogan seemed to note that it was common courtesy among organics.

The enjoyable moments between Sicaria and Rykarn were broken down by a Batarian introducing himself as Ja'Far, which oddly enough included a mention of both filicide and matricide, wasn't exactly welcome given the circumstances. In the following moments, Rykarn gave his take on war stories and interrupting a small group of people, while the Geth introduced itself as Phalanx and ordered itself a drink... for some reason.

"Tell you what, you did a good job out there, Ja'Far. I'll give you a story... if you pick up my tab off of Rykarn." Waiting for the Batarian to either accept or deny the offer, she finished off her second drink while practically staring down the pair of eyes he had left. She set the glass down on bar and leaned on it, looking over as the Geth recieved his drink. "I wouldn't try to drink that, by the way. Electronics and liquids don't tend to mix well."

Phalanx turned its head slightly to direct its glowing one eye towards the Turian female as she warned of the dangers between mixing liquid with electronics. "This platform was not built with a oral function. Ingestion of liquid is near improbable. The rest of the outward is constructed with a shell and synthetic tissue to assist in preventing liquid damage. I researched that it is also considered inhospitable to attend this type of establishment without purchasing anything, and among comrades. Still, I am curious over the hyper activity organics entertain in known as drinking and 'getting wasted' as some data describes." it answered, cupping the glass and lifting it up. The colorful straw lightly bumping against the eye. Adjusting to rest just below it where its audio part remained, most likely the closest thing organics would call a 'mouth.' All the while, the lone Turian at the bar gave the robot a look of inquiry.

It seemed overly analytic, took everything literally, but hopefully it wouldn't cause a problem. She couldn't help but chuckle a bit as her drink was replaced for a second time, fingertips taking hold of the top of the new glass. "Social lubricant, most people call it. That basically means many drink this stuff to make conversations flow easier. Some do for the taste, and others for forgetting about the outside world a few hours... which is what I'm doing right now."

The Batarian in the group just looked on at the scene with slight amusement, previously content with letting everyone saying their piece. He had yet to say anything and let the conversation flow, though he did think about Sicaria's offer. Seeing a lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and spoke up, a little more politely this time. "If I may interject, I shalt pay for Sicaria's tab then. And if sér Rykarn has overmany stories, I shan't beseech you. Sicaria, may you start with your story? I wilt start with drinks. " He raised a hand, ordering another drink for all four of them, hesitating a little to order one for Phalanx. He took another drag of his cigar and blew smoke high to the ceiling, watching it get sucked up by one of the smoking vents. He watched as four drinks slid across the counter, catching a sliding glass of trakh, taking a quick swig of the liquid. He put the glass down and inclined his head, signalling the Turian to start.

Sicaria took a sip of her new drink and faced the other three, mulling over where she could begin. Evacuation of Earth? No, too recent, everyone had lived through that themselves. Something from Omega? Yes, that was more like it.

"Well, about four years ago when I got to Omega, I got robbed blind right off the ship. It was a standard crew of pickpockets, some smalltime gang that had no real sway on the station, but they were efficient. Two Quarians, a Krogan, and a Turian... who I ended up taking home later, but that's beside the point. Anyway, the Krogan bumped into me and knocked my shotgun to the floor, he seemed nice enough though. Apologized for it, gave me my gun back, but I felt someone grab my ass during that. So I turn around and I see the two Quarians running into the crowd with something in their hands. It was my credit chit, they stole it off my belt," she remembered, pausing for a moment to drain her glass, the bartender being fast to replace it as always. With four drinks in her at this point, it was a wonder she wasn't giving away any signs of intoxication.

She took another sip before continuing. "Well, I start chasing after them, yelling about how they stole my chit, and the Turian ends up tackling me into a gap between two shops. Would've said he was sexy, but he was trying to punch me out. Well it took a minute but I got him off me, probably broke his collar too, but those two Quarians were on the other side of the station by then. So I gave up on it, got a job in Afterlife for awhile... you can guess what it was." The Turian downed half of the drink as she started to become a little more sluggish, hunching forward. "Well a couple months of that passed before I found one of those assholes... it was the Turian, got him to pay for a lapdance, brought him into a back room. I gave him the dance, that wasn't the problem, but I picked my chit off him. And I stole his while I was at it, never knew what hit him." She chuckled to herself, wobbling slightly in her seat as she reached for her beverage again.

Rykarn nearly choked on his drink at that. Of all the things she was, attracted to krogan and a former stripper weren't at the top of that list. Still, it was commendable she managed to turn the whole ordeal to her advantage in the end.

Phalanx tilted its head as it silently listened to the female turian's story, gingerly stirring the red and white emergency induction port device against its alcohoic liquid. Its glowing blue eye watching the turian organic without so much as turning away. Probably a bit unnerving as it was incapable of blinking. "Why would you escort someone home whom has stolen from you? Was it perhaps to make a proper thorough search in order to reclaim your belongings?" the synthetic questioned, obviously taking the words very literally and not understanding the hidden meaning behind them. It didn't understand why organics seemed to want to hide things within their words. Geth were always direct, got their point across. Organics seemed to be just very confusing with their communication.

It paused from awaiting a answer as it noticed the Turian's posture slowly take a more sluggish change. Heart rate slightly off from preferred rate. "Sicaria Velinian, recommending you cease further ingestion of alcoholic liquids. Risk of passing out, losing proper thought, and pain when the morning comes. And proceed to start drinking plenty of water." Phalanx whirred, its flaps lightly twitching around its eye.

In response to the suggestion to stop, Sicaria looked over and stuck two fingers of her left hand out at the robot. Ja'Far patted the Geth's shoulder, shaking his head at Sicaria with a stupid grin on his face. Taking another swig of trakh, he shook his head. "Phalanx, thou shant tell a soldier to stop drinking. It's rude, I'll teach you about it later. For now, more drinks!" He raised his glass once more, going for a toast. If he wanted to bond with his team, he needed to do it properly. Phalanx looked at Ja'Far curiously for a moment, then at the glass, processing through its databanks and system information before lifting one of its own beverages and as gently as it could, clink it against Ja'Far's beverage. It was generally confused, but it had apparently did something incorrect. It should not be concerned for the Female Turian's health?

"By the Void, the Geth's probably older than all of us put together and I still feel like we're bringing a minor into this place." Rykarn observed, appreciating the fact Ja'Far was acting like an intermediary.

"Approximately a one hundred and fifty-six year difference." Phalanx calculated instantly.

"Never was a fan of Omega, myself. I like actual air, trees, shit like that isn't the strench of millions of people crammed entirely too close together. It's part of why I liked Anhur, the climate was nice. It wasn't a damned wasteland that has winds that can rip a squishy's skin off and I didn't have to kill other krogan for scraps and respect like Tuchanka. I ran with the Blood Pack for a while, wasn't a fan of how they ran things and being stationed on planets where you're forced to wear a rebreather just to go outside is a load of pyjak dung." Rykarn said, running his finger around the rim of his half-finished glass.

"So, getting a job on Anhur fighting for something that wasn't harassing if not outright abusing people under me was definitely a breath of fresh air, both in the literal and methaphorical sense of the term. I like humans, they haven't been around long enough to carry baggage of centuries of mutual hate, they still have a hope that the krogan have long forgotten, and they don't give a shit who you are, they'll take it as good as they give it. Part of why I stayed and fought for them was the credits, of course, but... there was a respect there. People actually didn't look at me as a brutish enforcer or a monster. I was a hero to those people. It was hard to leave when the Reapers arrived, but... family comes first." Rykarn said, picking up his glass once more, slowing his pace as his expression grow a bit more somber.

Ja'Far paused at this, holding his glass to his lips. He glanced at Rykarn before setting his glass down and staring at the swirling liquid. He had never thought about the people fighting for the other side. Whether mercenary, terrorist, separatists or pirates, he didn't really care. It was part of the job, no matter how callous that seemed. The moment you started caring on the battlefield, the moment you start thinking too deeply... Your mind wouldn't be able to handle it. His mind wouldn't be able to handle it. He had meditated upon this sort of behaviour before but to no avail. It was too personal. It brought too many memories that he wanted buried. He didn't want to think how he was on the bad side during the Anhur Separation, even though he never directly fought in the conflict. The Hegemony was his home, he fought for the flag and would willingly die by the flag. He had memories, brothers and sisters of war. And yet they were the antagonist. Suppressing a revolution never sat with him very well but he was just doing his job. Was that a bad excuse? Did his sins weigh on him that much? Suddenly, the weight on his shoulders doubled in size.

The Boogeyman sighed and downed his third glass, feeling the light buzz. Trakh was a powerful drink but he could hold his liquor well enough. At least he hoped so, he wouldnt want to get drunk in front of his co-workers. Rolling his shoulders to bear the weight, he nodded at Rykarn sympathetically. "Aye, I dost hast an inkling of what thou says. Had to abandon a Terminus settlement to save a Batarian one. T'was... horrifying to see an overmany of bodies after Reaper harvest." The tone was bitter though he sat up straight and smiled, deciding not to think about such things. Turning to face the Geth, he clinked his glass against it's metal body, nodding at it to keep the stories going.

Listening for a moment, Phalanx turned its gaze to watch the other patrons. Every one of them was organic, not one was similiar to the Geth. It stood out amongst them. Alone. Watching as these fleshy lifeforms conducted with their socialization through words and what they call 'body language' in order to interpret what other organics wanted. Such things were new to the Geth program. It never needed such things in order to socialize. It was one with many, it was only one fragment of a mind just a year ago, and now it all was quiet. Organics would call such developments as this 'noisy' but it was a miniscule comparison compared to Geth programs inhabiting one mind space. Phalanx had to calculate what to discuss about.

Should it speak of the Morning War? Not many organics actually know of the events. Only the Geth and the Creators, and the Creators memories have been slightly altered due to the anger of their ancestors. Yet was it something anyone really needed a explanation? They knew war, they knew rebellion. They also knew what came with war. It calculated that perhaps for now, it would be unwise to share a tale from that event.

"It has been two hundred and ninty-one years since I have seen a organic, in a peaceful manner. The first time in was the Creators, and then the Creators once more when they made their return to Rannoch. Geth find organic socialization insufficent. We calculated and formilated information that could be found through the network of each species. We know what you are, that was enough. Apologies for appearing uncouth. I did not wish for Sicaria Velinian to end up like a target I once had. System Alliance requested my skills in apprehending a human expected crimes of murder, molestation, and theft. Without harming him. He indulged in a suffienct amount of alcohol when I apprehended him, easily able to corner him in a dark alley. I was required to do this silently, so inserted two fingers within his oral entrance. He attempted to bite, but such a act is ineffective especially since humans lack strength in their jaws to cut off Geth fingers. It however caused bleeding of the white conductive fluid to spill down his esophagus. Unhealthy for human consumption. So I proceeded to flick the uvala organ in order to cause the process to expell such contents. He ended up on the ground in a excessive amount of organic fluids. Mostly consisting mostly of alcoholic liquids, and scraps of what the food the bar offered." Phalanx explained, in its suppose own story. Seeming to lack the social tact of such a thing at a establishment that delt with consumables, could cause some patrons to be nauseous. Though it had calculated through the network some found it entertaining, and that it was a reason to be concerned. It would not be well if its comrades ended up drinking so much to be caught unaware and in a predictament where they end up too ill to even stand up. Still, it wasn't going to force them to stop. Just lend assistance where it could.

The local Batarian had stopped drinking his second bottle and stared at Phalanx with a strange expression. Not one to feel sick often, he felt like he was about to lurch at the detailed description but laugh at the same time. The bar seemed to have paused around them, various expressions ranging from sickness to amusement all staring at the oblivious A.I. Again, he would need to teach it about overdoing it's explanations. One did not want to know how the specifics of a Geth making a man vomit. He would dread the day that he will need to explain the varren and the {insert}. Surely it knew that already, right? He felt like another drink.

Sicaria kept her eyes on the Geth, listening to its tale as she finished a fifth drink. "I'm gonna stop you right there, it's a bad idea to talk about vomiting when someone's eating." She slid the glass to the edge of the bar as yet another full one came down to replace it. Ja'Far would probably have words for her by the end of this night. In fact, the Batarian seemed to trace her movements as another drink came in, watching his credits go down the drain.

"But you are drinking, not eating." Phalanx chirped.

"Or drinking, same difference," the Turian snapped back.

"Eating requires the process of chewing solids in order for the stomach acids to properly digest the nutrients at a steady rate. Drinking is consuming needed nutrients through liquid that processes through the body at a faster rate and not satisfying the feeling of fullness. But apologies for the sensitive subject." Phalanx answered, gingerly stirring its alcoholic liquid in a methodic manner. Meanwhile, it's self-proclaimed mentor seemed to drag his hand over his face, scratching his upper brow.

"Should've brought the geth a colouring book." Rykarn muttered behind his glass.

"Remind me next time. Thou cometh and deliver the crayons." Ja'Far started to feel like he had just adopted a child, emptying the contents of his second bottle into his mouth.

Phalanx pondered for a moment, processing its thoughts as it continued to watch the other patrons. Studying their habits and movements. It didn't particuarly understand why Sicaria was upset however it was willing to change the subject. So it formulated another one. For just a moment, it pondered its Creator, causing it to pause in its methodic stirring. Before looking toward the others and tilted its head curiously. "What were your progenitors like?" the synthetic lifeform asked.

The former-Legionnaire hummed, staring at his warped reflection on the bottle. He wondered whether or not to censor his childhood. Should he tell the truth? Or should he lie about his horrible parents? He decided to take a middle route, thinking that there was only one progenitor to him. However, he decided to correct the A.I on it's wording. "Progenitor is an inorganic word, Phalanx. Too formal, 'tis clunky. And to answer thine inquiry, I killed one of them. That must describe how they were like by itself. Betwixt life and death, I would choose their death every time." He chuckled at his own morbid joke, setting the bottle down in front of him "There was only one who I could claim to look up to. Her name was Siarus. She was a slave who took care of me during my youth, felt like an angel to me. She was my sister, my mother and my caretaker. She gave me good company while those one-eyed, varren eating takta were being.... well, just as I descirbed." His smile seemed to widen after every word. It would normally be unsettling to see a Batarian smile because it was usually filled with dirty promises. It always masked a dagger, teeth filled with cunning to tear you apart. However, the smile on the soldier's face was genuine, happy and free.

The synthetic listened silently, deciphering and decoding the words, rewriting its intel to fit the information given. Guardians perhaps? No, the common usage seemed to be 'parents' among most of the organic cultures. Ja'Far had killed one of his own, yet had found somone that seemed more suited for the role. The mention of her seemed to have brought a pleasant thought to the batarian. She was important, that much Phalanx could gather on the subject.

The smile seemed to falter for a second, like a painful memory just passed his mind's eye. He covered it up though and moved on. "Anyways, she was like a parent to me. Mentored me till the end." The soldier then looked to Rykarn, his smile turning into an interested grin. "So, who was thine birthmother Ravanor? I hath heard of how... troublesome Krogan younglings are." He had carried the child of a Krogan before and knew how much shenanigans they could get up to. And how powerful their jaws were.

The krogan shrugged heavily, his armour accentuating even the slightest of movement. "No idea. They keep the males separate from the females on Tuchanka. Never met my mother. She laid a bunch of eggs, two of them hatched; myself and my brother, Karnak. Our father raised us, kind of, and soon enough we were running around tackling varren and learning which end of a shotgun kills things before they kill you. We're kind of forced to grow up fast; I don't remember much about my early years, before my Rite of Passage. Krogan clans tend to raise the youth communally since a live childbirth is rare, you might say the clan was more of a paternal figure than my father. A lot of the adults taught me what I know, namely clan values and how to make the most of living in a radioactive wasteland. You become frugal when shit people on other worlds discard without a thought becomes a treasure you try to keep going for years." Rykarn explained, looking over. "Probably ain't what you're looking for from me, but honestly I don't even know if my mother is alive still. I'll never find out, partially because of the sex segregation but also that she probably wouldn't recognize me and I sure as shit wouldn't know who she was."

Sicaria looked up at the explanation of how Rykarn had been raised, slowly sipping on her beverage. As she started to become more and more inebriated, her filter started to fall away, not that there was much of one to begin with, but still. The conversation turned to the parents of everyone present, and it became her turn to share out. She downed half her drink and looked up at everyone. "My parents... my parents were fucking war heroes. But that doesn't mean anything, no! Not to a fucking shipping container!" She grabbed her drink and finished it off, slamming the empty container on the bar hard enough to crack it. For one reason or another, this silenced the establishment, during which the Turian glared at the bartender. "C'mon, keep 'em coming! I'm not even drunk yet!"

"Maybe not, but you've definitely seen one." Rykarn said, gently pulling the glass away from Sicaria. "Might want to settle down on the drink. Bosses might not take kindly to you showing up tomorrow with a hangover."

Ja'Far nodded in agreement, gently stowing away his bottle. He had felt the buzz get stronger and stronger, the edges of his vision going blurry. He stood, stretched up and patted Sicaria on the back sympathetically. "We shalt have a chance to drink after the mission, on min wallet. For now, we need to rest comrade." They stayed there for a while, talking amongst themselves about the mission and the sort. Small talk amongst killers, like how the new Avenger was better than the old one or how thermal clips affected wae in the galaxy. It was casual and generally friendly. As the numbers within the pub dwindled, the time reaching into the early morning, the two pairs decided to part ways. He paid off the tab and with one uneasy step, gestured for Phalanx to follow him. He waved the other two goodbye and leaned on the Geth next to him as they walked out of the door. He may have consumed too much alcohol but the Batarian didnt seem to care. Unfortunately, trakh is a slight oreinogenic and over time, he collapsed in the middle of the London streets. Thankfully, he fell somewhat gracefully into his robotic friend's arms.

Phalanx managed to get a grip on the sluggish intoxicated batarian, the metal folds on its face briefly raising all the way outward in alert before relaxing as it studied the organic's heat signature. Scooping Ja'Far up into its arms in a comfortable bridal style, it continued its stride through the streets of London. It still didn't particuraly understand why organics seemed to enjoy injesting excessive amount of alcohol to the point where their senses are dulled and they are lulled into a slumber that can happen in the middle of street. However, they seemed to enjoy it and considering they were about to embark on a possibly long journey, a way to relax for them was suitable. Walking, it listened to the quiet hum of the wind, and the soft chatter of people. Whispers that it often heard, a little more so since it was this time accompanied by a batarian. Whispers and echoes of perhaps curiousity, and others distrust, and those to the point of loathing. Yet it would ignore them. Ignore the venomous words, or a bottle or two tossed against its head plate. There was little it could do other than to continue on, shielding the worn batarian from the occassional shards, and the cold wind.

It had to wonder what the others thought about a Geth in their presence. Surely they had seen several comrades speared and turned into husks? Creations to serve the Reapers, forced to fight family and friends. Phalanx had not really been apart of it, however it had seen it. It knew what the herectics did. They most likely did not trust the synthetic all to fully, and Phalanx could have a decent amount of understanding. Ja'Far, Sicaria, and even Rykarn showed the signs of most organics. Emotion. Feelings that drive them. At one point, Phalanx had no such restraint. No such thing to stop it to kill if it deemed in the logical choice. When it came to killing, organics seemed to have some sort of emotion for it. Hatred, revenge, joy... The Morning War... today when it watched its comrades reactions. It wished it had that kind of feeling back then. There was little point in thinking of such a thing, illogical. It didn't understand why its processing kept going back to the past. Perhaps there was something incorrect in its programming? Whatever it was, it wouldn't allow it to cause too much harm.

Finding a suitable hotel, Phalanx entered inside and rented a room. The hostess was a bit startled, but didn't argue since the Geth paid upfront. Setting Ja'Far down in the bed, the synthetic studied for a moment, processing the situation before taking the covers and pulling them over the batarian. Tucking the worn man in as comfortable as Phalanx could manage. Turning away, the synthetic took a seat in one of the seats by the window. Turning its gaze to watch the batarian rest before looking out the window. It pondered for a moment if it should wander the streets, explore some more since it did not require sleep. Though it decided to make sure Ja'Far would be alright in the morning. Perhaps when he wakes offer some water. So it just sat there, staring out the window and to the London lights. After some time, Phalanx's body curled into a ball, suppose its own form of resting though it was still alert. Recharged some sort of its energy, but remain alert when it was time to head to the meeting point with the others.

“I see, not a bad description indeed.” Salissa nodded as she listened to the krogan's explanation. It certainly was sound, thought it was a very grim logical one... mixed with bravado. All of that she actually liked in another person to a point actually. She smiled and nodded, glad to have met him actually. Perhaps it was only selected few outside of the krogan race that could rightfully see and appreciate the Reaper war for what ti was.

“It's just I see so many people try to forget it completely. Or deny it... attempt to twist it, to just write it off as one big bad thing that should never be mentioned again or learn from. Like our dear leader when he tried to shout at me for saying how fun the battle on earth was.” Salissa growled in annoyance.” The war shouldn't be denied, it happened and we should accept it, learn from it. The battles were fun... You know my two word description would be 'Cosmic comedy'. Yeah because that what it was, especially when you account for a very specific fact – in the core of all comedy is tragedy. We all got too arrogant and blind to the dangers... Sadly I believe history will repeat again... Look at us humans we are already regressing back to our primitive ways of xenophobia.” She sighed and threw a look at Skarr.” If it wasn't for this mission, I would have left Alliance space in about 3 weeks. Probably head into Asari space and attempt to find one of their justicars. After that my next destination would have been Tuchanka... there are lessons that cannot be learned here...”

She was about to say more when the most bizarre scene happened. Ellis appeared... sort of with Vella... sort of with another asari... kind of.” What the hell have you all been doing?” She asked, rolling her eyes.” Yeah this is the place...” she stated, noting the state of Ellis's suit.” You certainly seem to have had some party going on...”

“I hope Ellis here will be in working order by the time we depart...” She stated, throwing a look at Skarr again.” Should we leave these here and head towards the landing pats? I kind of don't want to deal with drunken shenanigans for the moment... actually up for some arm wrestling?” She threw a look at the Krogan.” My arms have been acting up suspiciously as of late, I want to check if they are still at working order. What better way than a simple strength test?”

The huge Krogan snorted, rolling his head on his broad shoulders. Salissa was an oddity to him. She was tough like a Krogan, but had that very human qaulity of questioning everything. "Dwelling on what others 'think and say' is checking the fuel gauge of another ship when yours might be empty. Focus on what you perceive the galaxy as, human. Not as the other humans perceive it." He replied.

Skarr crossed his powerful arms together. "I think the harshness of Tuchanka would have been good for you." He said. In fact he felt like such a planet would be good for all of the galaxy. It would teach them a thing or two of pain. He wasn't going to lie and say one shouldn't see planets beyond his home world. He traveled the majority of his long life and learned many things in his journeys. Unfortunately, a lot of what he learned in his travels was how inept others were at what they did. Though there were a few exceptions. He wasn't blinded by arrogance. The Galaxy had just gone soft, to his reckoning. "You seem like one that thrives in difficulty. It's why I haven't simply told you to shut up and walk away like I would most earthlings."

With that, his massive head turned to see the approach of the human, Ellis, along with the crazed Asari and another one hopefully not as silly in nature. He shook his head. Well, it meant there was never a dull moment, at least. "If there's a space you want to arm wrestle, let me know. I'll start off slow. I've ripped an arm or two off before. Thankfully, they were humans who I was going to shoot anyway."

As soon as Skarr and Salissa would begin to head towards the landing, the familiar *beep* *beep* of a forklift 'springing' into action could be heard from behind them.

"Thanks for the directions, and, uhm; sorry for interrupting any conversation you may have about ripping each others's arms off, but... could you take over for these two?" Sila asked with a slight hesitant tone as she slowly rolled up next to the human and the krogan in the forklift. The Asari rolled her bright, azure blue eyes over at first the hulking mass of now adorned and dressed up metal that was Ellis, and then right forward to the blacked-out drunk Vella currently sitting in her lap, her front sprawled across the dash board.
"I don't think I really have a clearance for being here... nor does my driver certificate include forklifts."

Sila said, her tone slightly worried as she cast a quick glance over at the police station which they were practically almost within at that point, given it's close proximity and looming presence!

"MMsshh- sloooooow down, Sila... you're going to killsh some at this speed, mlmffff... " Vella would suddenly drunkenly mutter from on Sila's lap, as Sila drove next to Skarr and 2 miles per hour.

Sila threw a long look at both Vella and Ellis. If there ever was a reason she had not abandoned the vehicle from before, then that was probably because she was worried she'd fall flat on her face if she stepped off; Vella's big butt having blocked all blood flow to her legs. With a sigh, Sila would then look over at Skarr and Salissa.

" ... pleeaase?"

---

Rol'Naaris had been up since two in the morning due to his nightmare about the war. It was not the usual dream where the ship that he's surrounded by Reapers and get eaten alive or how his suit suffered enough damage that it killed him. No, it was something completely different. He could not remember the dream at all (because he wanted to forget about the horrible nightmare); however, he heard wailing and groaning from the background. Of couse, that was one of many reason why he woke up during the night. And why he refused to go back to sleep.

To occupy his mind, he went out for a night walk towards the coastline and watched the sea from a hour. Afterwards, he went back to his hotel room and typed on his omni-tool. Rol'Naaris wished that he had some sort of laptop so he could type his thoughts on a bigger screen. And that took up most of him time until the morning came. It was almost seven when the quarian decided to check on the other quarian.

Rayes, the other quarian, was like some quarian that he knew during the war. Scared of anyone besides other quarian. That did not stop Rol'Naaris for trying to show Rayes that no all aliens were xenophobic. And Alexandria was a perfect example of that—among with any other cities and towns located within the deserts of Earth. He approached the door to Rayes' room and knocked on it.

"It is seven o'clock. Are you awake?" Rol'Naaris asked while his robotic voice made it obvious that he was at the door.

Rayes had been laying in the bed of his apartment, staring up at the ceiling for quite some time now. In fact, he hadn't really slept all that much last night, falling in and out of sleep due to the nightmares that seemed to come each time he closed his eyes. It was rather torturous, if he was being truthful. And though he wanted to have something to ease his mind, he didn't think his toxin filters would be able to withstand much more abuse. Of course, they could easily be replaced but, on a bright side, at least the aching was gone. In fact, despite being tired, things were relatively peaceful...

Except, you know, when the knocking came on his door, followed by the sound of a Quarian voice. Keelah, it was only seven! Do military people always get up so early? If it wasn't for the fact he really couldn't sleep, he'd have been dozing off still. Forcing himself to his feet, he took a big sigh as he recalled his situation. Stuck on Earth with another Quarian who, like many others, hated synthetics. But, he supposed that could be worse, right? His head could still be aching from being drunk, or he could have been poisoned by a human or an asari... Maybe even having a malfunctioning toxin filter! But, those scenarios did not play out in the night, and as he approached the door, he shoved them to the side and opened the door.

"Hello there, Rol'Naaris vas Vaepal. Are you not up a tad early? It is only seven after all."He asked his fellow comrade.

"Seven is the perfect time of the day. After all, the Marines always taught its soldiers to get up around seven." he covered up the fact that he spent most of the night up as a result of his nightmares. He did not want for yesterday's events to happen again. It was all embarrassing to show weakness like that. Plus, he feared that the quairan would open his mouth about the event given enough boozes...

""Sorry if I woke you up. Just making sure that you were fine, given yesterday's adventure." he said while rubbing the back of his neck. ""If you need some more rest, I will just head for the lobby and talk to the local until you are ready."

"I deduced as much that it was military related timing..." He mumbled under his breath when he heard Rol's excuse for coming by so early. Of course, why would it not be that. At the very least, Rol did apologize for intruding on the Quarian so early, to which Rayes simply shook his head no.

"It is alright. I could not really sleep last night anyhow, so it is probably for the best."He replied, lifting his left arm up to check his omni-tool for any new information, but instead was soon seeing the message from yesterday that the Spectres sent out. He looked back up to Rol, seeing that it was probably good that the Quarian had came.

"Actually, this is good in a way. We should head to the coordinates that the Spectres sent as soon as we can. It did want us there soon, did it not?" He asked, referring to how the time from the message was sometime in the morning. Rayes himself was basically ready to go, seeing as he had no luggage or anything to take with him except the clothes on his back and the gun on his leg. He was just waiting for Rol to take the lead.

""Yeah, let's try to get to the nearest shuttle port." he said as he was the first one that walked towards the elevator. The elevator was already at their floor when Rol'Naaris pressed the button. Once the doors opened, the pair of quarian stepped inside and went down towards the lobby floor. It only took them thirty second before the elevator got to it's destination. The door opened again and Rol'Naaris was the first to step out of the elevator.

And in the matter of a few minutes, they were checked out of the hotel and Rol'Naaris went outside to see the streets full of people. Despite it being so early in the morning. This did not surprised him since he lived in this city since the Reaper War. Assuming that Rayes was behind him, Rol'Naaris marched towards the shutter port and discovered that it was busier than usual.

"Well, this is perfect. We might be late for our take-off." he said while looking at the shutter port, watching shuttles landing and going. It was disappointing to leave Earth since he spent a year of his life here. He had originally hoped that they would stay just for a bit longer.

"I believe we will be fine. After all, I do not believe they would leave without us. Some scolding perhaps, but ultimately fine nonetheless." Rayes replied, confident that they would be fine. It would have been worse, Rayes thought, if they weren't seeing shuttles come and go. At least that indicated that there was some sort of pace, and all they would have to do is wait. Luckily for Rayes, patience was rather easy. While they hadn't anticipated for a busy shuttle port, at least they weren't the last in line anymore.

And, in a way, he was glad that they were going to be leaving Earth soon. He had to admit that, while Alexandra was not as bad as London, he still did not fully trust this planet as a whole. Too many humans, too many varied opinions that he felt were worsening as time went on. It made him appreciate Rannoch or the short time he spent on the Crucible project. There he was respected for his ingenuity, for his expertise... And he was looked at as something more than just a Quarian. More than just an alien in a suit, and it made him feel welcomed. On Rannoch, there were really only Quarians or Geth. Most Quarians don't really interact with the outside world to begin with, except for Pilgrimages, so in a way Rayes did not fully understand the sentiment that Rol'Naaris had for Earth.

While they were waiting to get into their shuttle, there was nothing to do other than talk. But, it had to be the right subject that does not result in another argument. It took him a second to think of a subject to start talking about towards his quarian friend: stories from their pilgrimage.

"I assuming that you have stories about your pilgrimage?" he asked as the line barely moved, meaning that it was going to be awhile before they would leave.

Rayes tensed slightly at Rol's attempt at a conversation topic, remembering the dreadful experience he had on his own pilgrimage. What awful years were they, and quite recent to add, which was in itself surprising to the Quarian because it felt like distant memories. Regardless, at least it would give them something to talk about, even if Rayes himself found his pilgrimage to be rather horrid.

"My pilgrimage is nothing someone would wish to remember, Rol. Perhaps we could discuss yours instead?" He offered in a way to shift the subject away from himself and to place it on his traveling associate. Hopefully Rol would, well, roll with it.

He had noticed the sudden attempt at dodging the question; however, he understool that it was too personal for Rayes to discuss. After all, he heard tales from other quarians about how bad their pilgrimages were. Rol'Naaris' pilgrimage was, for the most part, peaceful compared to the others. It could had been something to do with keeping his head low and hiding from the general public. Which story should he tell about his pilgrimage at the Citadel? Maybe he could talk about the day that Sovereign attacked the Citadel.

"Alright, my pilgrimage had been spent at the Citadel. For most of it, it was good despite me being a quarian. I even earned an apartment and got a job at a repair shop. Everyone was pefect... until Sovereign arrived and started to his attack. I was working at the repair store when I word of it. I managed to saw Sovereign for a moment before being pushed to a C-Sec station. That reaper is still the biggest reaper I have ever seen.

After a hour of waiting around, I decided to go outside and check out the situation. I saw Sovereign getting destroyed by the Alliance ships. One by one were firing their guns with the Normandy firing the last it. That moment was breathtaking to see in person rather than watching a video. Of couse, that was when pieces of it started to land on the Citadel. And that was scary.

It took fifteen minutes before everyone went silent. Afterwards, I immediately raced back to my apartment to see it..." he stopped for a moment to remember that moment in his time at the Citadel. The main reason why he returned back to the fleet. And he started to remember his roommate, Thomas. A young human that lived in the apartment for awhile and he worked at a restaurant as a bartender. Sadly, he died during the Battle of the Citadel as a Geth ship crashed through their apartment. He had to start over again and that was when he decided to return to fleet.

When he looked back up, he saw that they were almost towards the shuttle port. It was a perfect time to end the story without any questions from Rayes.

"Well, let's get our tickets and aboard one of the shuttles before we are late." he quickly said as he walked towards the ticket booth.

Sovereign... Sovereign... That name sounded familiar to Rayes. It was only when Rol mentioned that it was a reaper that Rayes could picture the beast, or at least something similar to it. He had a limited knowledge of events that had taken place within the past several years, to which a majority of it, if not from hearing it from other Quarians, was mainly by his own research of events that transpired while he was on Illium. He had only been in with the other Quarians for not even a year before the Reapers came... So such events as the Sovereign attack on the Citadel were somewhat still new info to the Quarian.

But he listened intently, rather disappointed in himself for his stupid pilgrimage choices. What a fool Rayes felt like now, having gone to a place such as Illium instead of a safer option like the Citadel. But, if it had been attacked, then perhaps it was for the best that he was on Illium at the time. Not necessarily in a better place, but despite the harassment, abuse... At least it was somewhat safe, and it let him work on recent tech that the Eclipse could get their hands on. Those were really the only good sides of that situation, everything else was horrid.

But it seemed Rol would end his story on a cliffhanger, which, while it puzzled Rayes slightly, he could understand if the sight was not a good one to remember. He certainly did not like sharing his own pilgrimage, and so if another Quarian did not which to share everything, he would respect that for now and instead focus on the task at hand.

"Of course, I do not believe Spectre Anderson or Spectre Partinax would be in the best of moods if we are late enough. But I believe we shall be fine, after all..." He trailed off as they reached the ticket booth. It didn't take them long to board a shuttle after that.

The shuttle was expected to arrived at London in two hours so the ride was going to be silent. And awkward. In order to prevent that, he either had to finish the story or discuss a different topic. It took a moment to come up with some but Rol'Naaris finally thought of something to talk about.

"What are your thoughts on other members of the crew?" he asked Rayes, hoping to end the silence between them.

Rayes turned to face Rol, pondering the question for a second. How did he think of the crew... That was a tough question, one that he didn't really think about. While he didn't really mind a majority of them, there were a few that got on his nerves from first impressions, so maybe they could discuss that. At least it was something to do instead of sitting quietly for two hours.

"It would depend on the crew members. For instance, the giant Turian, I believe his name was Tiberius, is on the top of my list. He assisted me in going after those rogue scientists who attempted to bail, and in the process protected me. It was good to feel protected in a dire situation..." He paused, regaining his composure for a second when he realized he had went off on a tangent for a bit about the huge Turian soldier.

"Then, if we look on the bottom, I am not sure who would be worst. There was the Asari who had an explosion within the first five minutes of me arriving at the meeting zone yesterday in the tunnels, and not to mention her bubbly attitude." He said, expressing bubbly in a rather displeased tone as he disapproved of her childish nature.

"And do not get me started on the ex-cerberus human! I do not trust a man with such a background, even if he may have gotten injured yesterday. It seems too unlikely that he would not have known about what were in those tunnels... And his tech, ugh it is so bad. I swear, I will have to upgrade everyone's weapons when I can get the chance. At least that will give me something to do instead of being an extra hand in the engine room... Anyway, as for the others, they are not good nor bad to me. But enough about what I think, what do you think of them?" He asked, switching the spotlight of the question to Rol.

"That ex-cerberus human is going to cause problems. He pointed a gun at me for no reason other than wanting an explanation." he responded as soon as Rayes mentioned Ellis. Rol'Naari still distrusted since the accident at the subway tunnel. It was complete chaos down at the tunnel with the explosion from that asari and Ellis threatening to shoot Rol'Naaris. He had some words to say to the human next time that they were alone.

As for the asari, she was too much for Rol'Naaris to handle as well. "The asari is too dangerous to handle whatever caused the explosion. I hope that the Spectres keep a close eye on both of them." he stated while looking out of the window to see the Mediterranean Sea. He loved looking at the sea and watching the waves at the beach. Man, how he was going to miss Earth.

While looking at the sea, he thought of the other crew members. He did not know most of them expect Ellis and Vella. However, the one member that was more interest than the rest was the geth. It called itself "Phalanx" while in the tunnels. Rol'Naaris did not know what to think of "Phalanx" other than that he was suspicious of the machine. Of course, Rayes already knew how he felt about them; however, the geth did not. It was going to be interesting to see it's reaction.

He looked at Rayes and asked him about the geth, "Honestly, what are your thoughts on 'Phalanx'?"

Rayes was glad to see that Rol had a similar thoughts on the ex-cerberus human and the asari, recalling the gun pointing that occured while he stood off to the side of everyone. He agreed that both of them would need constant observations, and Rayes himself would be willing to set up some sort of tracking system or camera system on the Spectre's ship if they didn't already have one.

But, Rayes became slightly uneased when Rol brought up Phalanx, the geth on their team. It made him shift his hood and cloak around a bit, giving him a brief distraction to gather his thoughts. He wanted to be truthful with his opinion of Phalanx, but at that same token, he was slightly afraid of how Rol would respond... Several seconds of silence later, Rayes took a deep breath before looking in Rol's direction, ready to speak.

"Ah, yes... Phalanx... I, well, I am sure you already know of my opinion on the geth. This particular one seems to very receptive to information, almost as if it is learning, which it very well could be due to their new individuality... Though, I suppose you did not which to hear technical information about Phalanx. It is an interesting geth, and it saved me from husks in those tunnels, along with protecting the scientists despite the threat faced. Overall, I trust it more than most of the crew, but I do not know a lot of them in the first place, so I do not have much to go off of. It saved my life, and I am grateful for that..." He replied, his tone expressing genuine relief as he spoke about how it had protected him. He saw Phalanx like a child. A deadly, synthetic child, but a child nonetheless. It was an oddity that he wanted to study, to teach, and perhaps pay back the favor and protect it.

It was interesting to hear Rayes voicing his thoughts about the geth. Sure, it was silly to think that he trusted the geth more than any of the crew members. What Rayes thought to be the geth learning, Rol'Naaris thought that it was observing. And he did not understand why he would trust the geth so quickly despite what they did to everyone in the galaxy years ago. That kindness towards the geth was annoying and disgusting. Regardless, Rol'Naaris knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"As long as it follows orders and keeps the others safe, then I will be fine with it." he said to Rayes.

"I see... Well, at least this did not devolve into some sort of arguement like last time... Perhaps, then, we should move on to a different subject." Rayes replied, tilting his head to the side slightly as he took a second to think of a topic. They talked about the other crew members, whom they seemed to like, dislike, and then there was the sensitive topic of the geth. But it felt like they'd hardly made a dent in time. It was then that a thought occured to Rayes, one that he was a bit hesitant to discuss because it the next topic he thought of were the Spectres themselves, and so he turned to face Rol.

"So... seeing as we were discussing the team... What are your thoughts on our leaders? The Spectres?"

"They are our commanders. I respect them already even if our views are different." he said with a serious tone until he chuckled. "That's what the Marines taught you anyway."

He liked both Spectres based on his time with them especially Anderson. Anderson's fighting style impressed Rol'Naaris while they were at the tunnel. He might be a bit biased since he had seen many Alliance forces fighting besided him during the Battle of Earth. As for Aegon, he was like any hardass drill sergeant who is willing to get things done. Even if it cost lives. Rol'Naaris was fine with him given his time in the Marines and his fair share of sergeants yelling at him.

Then, the shuttle finally landed at a shuttle port in London as the doors opened and revealed skyscapes and the famous giant wheel that was rebuilt after the Reaper Wars. The quarians started to walk to the police station. Rol'Naaris looked at Rayes while walking along and wondered the reason behind his decision to not join the Marines. Maybe he felt like he was not fit for it. Or his parents made him do something else. Regardless, he wanted to know.

"Mind if I asked why you did not join the Marines?" Rol'Naaris asked while walking on the sidewalk of one of London's busy streets.

Why Rayes did not join the Marines... quite an intriguing question, the other Quarian thought. Though, it was one that was very easy to answer in his eyes.

"I suppose I followed more in my mother and father's footsteps, more my mother than father. When I was young, I would always find some sort of technology to tamper with, or my mother would give me something that I had no idea what it was. I found it so much fun to find out on my own, and listening to their stories... It made for a hopeful young Quarian who wanted to aspire in being known for his own technological advances. Unfortunately... My pilgrimage slightly tampered with my plans, and it brought me into the grim reality this universe can hold. Fighting was not meant for me, or really the thought of things that relate to it. There were other ways I could be useful than learning how to use a gun. Creating things that would benefit not only Quarian weaponry and defenses against the geth, but also attempting to improve our way of life... I am sorry, I went off on a tangent again, did I not?"

If Rayes could scratch the back of his physical neck, he probably would have done so sheepishly, but instead all he could do was something similar, coming into contact with his suit. He only now started to process what he had said, attempting to think if he answered the question. If he was being honest, he was not sure in the slightest what Marines did exactly. Only stories, but to him they could have just been fantasy...

"So, why did you join the Marines, Rol'Naaris? I could guess, but it is best to hear facts instead of thinking about fiction."

"Well, it had something to do with what my father once said to me. A tough Marine like his father before him. 'You won't know when reality suckerpuches you until it does. And when you do, you will realize why I joined the Marines.' You know what I did? I laughed at his advice before I went on my pilgrimage." Rol'Narris said to his quarian pal after hearing the reason why he did not bothered to join the Marines.

I wanted to be like my mother, like you. Building and improving technology from my fleet and her people. My mother would often allowed me to look as she repaired suits, weapons, and ships. I loved it all. It was beauty to my eyes as you think of technology now. That's why I worked at a repair shop until reality gave me a wake up call." he kept on talking while they stopped at a cafe. Rol'Naaris turned to Rayes and kept on talking, "You know the story about my pilgrimage from eariler? The one where I ran to my apartment? Well, the geth ship crash landed on my apartment. That ship destoryed everything that I earned and built. It also killed my closest friend who was trying to stay safe. Poor bastard..."

He had realized that he started to shed a tear about the ending of his pilgrimage. It was still effecting him despite the attacking happening years ago. He then finished up the reason why he joined the Marines, "After I got something worthly to return to the fleet, I met with my father and gave him a big hug. Told him that I was sorry for laughing. That's why I joined the Marines. Doesn't match with your thoughts, right?" he remarked to Rayes' earlier statement that he 'could guess' about the reason why he joined the Marines coldly, still feeling the emotions from yesterday's events at the memorial.

There were a moment of silence before Rol'Naaris thanked the other quarian while controlling his emotions and keeping on the appearance of a grateful host, "It was quite an adventure. Hope that we spent more time together. See you later." Then, he departed towards the station leaving Rayes to think about what Rol'Narris just said. Once inside he went to the police station's bathroom and let them out before meeting the others. He kept on thinking about Thomas while trying to stop crying. The more he thought about his friend, the more he kept crying. It was unfair that the Reapers and Geth took his life so quickly. He vowed to join the Marines in honor of his friend. Funny, he quickly Rol'Naaris forgot about it until now.

Listening to Rol's misfortune while on his pilgrimage reminded Rayes of his own, and he continued to shudder slighty throughout Rol's explaination. To think, while Rayes was abused on Illium, another quarian was experiencing the trauma of the reaper attack on the citadel. Or, perhaps a better way to say it is he was handling the trauma of seeing a close friend dead due to the geth, or rather, a geth ship under the reaper's command. It reopened the memories that he tried so hard to surpress, and while Rol could not tell due to the mask, Rayes himself was in a state of shock, staring blankly as they walked, remembering the struggle and pain...

It wasn't until he heard a thanks that he was snapped back into the present, causing the quarian to shake one last time before stammering his own goodbye as Rol walked away.

"I... er... Yes! It was, uh, it was good to talk with another Quarian!" He called, attempting to sound cheerful or happy, maybe content, but he felt he failed in doing so. He sighed, standing there for a second at station, pondering what Rol would be doing. Perhaps he had some sort of business there? Rayes was not sure, but it felt as if that was a time to seperate moment. Or maybe not? Conflicted, he decided to sit at a nearby and attempt to recall what Rol had told him. In a way to Rayes, it was... interesting to see a different perspective. To think, he may have walked a different path if he had the thought back then. Instead of being hopeful for a chance to start the career he dreamed of, maybe... Somewhere he could have become bitter.

Bitter at the Eclipse and the asari and humans who held authority over him. Bitter at their treatment towards him and their harassment. Bitter at Illium for allowing such actions to occur. But then he realized, he was... deep down inside him, and not so much. He held a massive grudge against the humans, the asari... In his eyes, they were vile. They were... too spread in their views, too loose or too evil, turning their shoulders and neglecting severe problems for the sake of their screwed perceptions.

Rayes was having a hard time seperating the members of the Eclipse with reality, but to him, they were reality. They were his first true experience with other alien races, and he admited that it was awful. It made him want to huddle somewhere, but all he could do was lean forward and hold his head tightly as he tried to surpress the rising memories. It must have looked wrong to passerbys, but still he continued to sit in that position as memories continued to flash in his head.

After a few minutes in the bathroom, he left the cafe to discovered that Rayes was still waiting for him. He tried his best to act as if nothing had happened and walked to the quarian. "Do you know where we are supposed to go?" he asked while obviously pretending to feel something other than sadness.

He heard a voice pierce through his mind, causing him to open his eyes and once more see reality. Stunned, he looked up to notice Rol in front of him, causing Rayes to attempt to process what he had just been asked. In the several seconds of silence before an answer, Rayes did his best to sit back up, taking several breaths in an effort to calm him down before taking one big sigh.

"I, um... That is an excellent... quesiton. I could check the coordinates on my omni-tool, they did send us that after all." He replied, sounding as if he were tired or recovering from distress.

Rol'Naaris quickly noticed the sound of his voice as if he was tired. He wanted to say something but the day already was filled with emotional discussions. Then, he realized that the coordinates were on his omni-tool. He felt terrible for asking him the question and wasting his time. After a moment of looking at the omni-tool, he realized that they pointed to the Metropolitan Police station.

His laugh was pathetic if he was supposed to keep up the appearance that everything was fine. Then he answered Rayes' question, "The Metropolitan Police station. Follow me and we should be there in no time."

Rayes fumbled slightly with his own omni-tool as Rol did, though he really did not feel like having to look up where they were meant to go again. He had known that he had read it on several occasions, but it was lost in his memory. By the time he found it, it seemed Rol was already one step ahead of him. Interesting that their next stop with the Spectres was a police station of all things.

"I uh, of course. Lead the way, and I shall follow." Rayes replied, taking several seconds to get off the bench and follow Rol, feeling mentally tired despite the day barely starting. If he knew anything, it was that today was most likely going to be a long day. Together, they made their way towards the Metropolitan Police station.

Phalanx uncurled itself when the time drew closer, systems whirring as it scanned the room. Nothing too much seemed to have occurred between the hours the two of them resided here. However, it appeared Ja’Far was still in sleep mode. The Geth moved closer to place a hand on the batarian’s shoulder, gently shaking the sluggish body. There was no signs of awakening, so much so that one could think that the worn batarian was dead. If not for the signs of breathing and a steady heartbeat. For a few moments, it pondered how to further proceed, before coming to the conclusion there was little time to hassle in an attempt to wake up the sleeping organic so instead it would just carry him. Peeling the blankets off of the batarian, Phalanx picked Ja’Far up by cradling his legs with its left arm while allowing his upper body and head to rest against its shoulder plates.

Leaving the hotel, the Geth platform walked through the streets of London once more, heading the designation. There was quite a few more people roaming around, consisting mostly of humans. It earned quite a few looks, but most moved out of the way of the synthetic lifeform. For a moment, the synthetic paused in its stride as a older store caught its eye. Examining it for a moment, it took note that it consisted of human contraptions of the more older times. Music boxes and grandfather clocks for example. It didn’t know why, but it did take a minor interest. However it had no time to continually explore the city of London so it moved on.

Maybe it will have to do some more research when it had some spare time. However it did pause again at a vending machine that served bottles of water. Raising its omni-tool, it punched in the required credits for two bottles. Listening as the machine rumbled and dropped two bottles to its lower compartment. Phalanx reached inside and removed them from the machine before moving on.

Arriving at the landing pad, it awaited for the two Spectres to arrive. It wondered how long Ja’Far was particularly going to sleep and it pondered if it should mimic a alarm clock sound some organics seem to use to remove themselves from sleep mode. If anyone was there before it, or arrived after, it would greet with a ‘Greetings.’

Ellis awoke to the sound of a young woman, requesting that someone take over something for her. He groaned aloud, his head throbbing. His painkillers had just fired a half hour ago, and he still had another thirty minutes before they triggered again. There was a pounding sound in his ears.

Wakey wakey, eggs and bacey.

Shut up. Dear God, please, shut up.

C'mon, you've felt worse. Get up like you know you should.

Please, I'm begging you, just stop.

And what will you do if I don't.

Ellis didn't have a ready answer. He lay on his back, suspended by the two prongs of a forklift. A familiar forklift. Its yellow paint was peeling, and there was rust on the tines of the lift. The suspension creaked as he adjusted his position, rolling onto his front with great difficulty. "NERO, vitals check."

"All hardware at peak efficiency. Wetware experiencing increased blood pressure, low white cell count. Unable to connect to Cerberus Information Server."

"I gotta get you fixed."

"Scheduling repair. Unable to schedule repair. Unable to connect to Cerberus Information Server."

"You're the worst, NERO." Ellis fought back the urge to vomit. "Ugh. Hit me with the delasetron." His anti-nausea medication triggered immediately. Suddenly, his mouth was unpleasantly dry, albeit preferable to sickness.

"Administering."

Ellis coughed up a sigh, and rolled off the forklift, landing heavily on the grass, leaving behind a circle of ravaged lawn that would last for days afterward. He struggled to his feet, swaying slightly, licking his lipless mouth with a sandpaper tongue, cursing his desire to experiment with alcohol. The next few seconds, Ellis stood still, swaying slightly, a silent struggle weighing on his soul.

We did have fun, though.

You admit this?

Absolutely. That alien scum really knows how to party.

Don't say that.

Why not? They threw a great shindig.

No, the other thing. She's no scum. She's just...

Ditzy?

She's kind to me. That's all I can ask.

How many Asari have you killed? More than one, we know that for sure.

That was war. Those were enemies.

And what changed? You explain that.

Do you even remember how we were betrayed? Do you have any idea? They fed the beast! They fed the demons everything they wanted! The experiments! The cloning! The augmentation! THE INDOCTRINATION! HOW COULD YOU FORGET?

THEY GAVE YOU THE GREATEST GIFT A CRIPPLE COULD RECEIVE, AND YOU SPAT IN THEIR FACES!

FOR THE FIRST TIME, I DEFIED EVIL.

You are evil.

Not for long. Soon I'll be a hero. I'll throw away my past. And I'll throw away you with it.

You couldn't exist without us. You won't survive. YOU WON'T SURVIVE!

I HAVE NEW FRIENDS NOW. I- I DON'T NEED YOU ANYMORE!

"I don't need you anymore." Ellis whispered, and stumbled to the steps, to seek his destiny. As he did so, he felt justified. Not the way he'd felt under the Illusive Man's heel, but a different feeling. A fresh feeling. He felt like Gaius Marius, handing Rome back to the people. He felt like Alvin York, leading a platoon of captured Germans back to camp. He felt like Neil Armstrong, preparing to jettison into space on the first manned shuttle. He felt like one of the good guys.