Mass Effect: Going Dark

[Cynical Cat]

"Thank you," replied Mikhail. Nothing in his life had prepared him to deal with rachni as anything other than targets at the other end of his scope. "I wish you well Sings-to-the-Stars," Mikhail said sincerely. Lord it was big up close. The others were coming in behind him and the docking corridor wasn't roomy even before a rachni occupied it. He moved passed the big alien and into the interior of the ship.

[frigidmagi]

Cpl Lysander did not stand out of a crowd and today he was thankful for that. He carried his sea bag slung over his shoulder as taught, moving quietly through the crowd to get the ship. He heard a female reporting hollering and kept moving, he had had enough of reporters while laid up thank you kindly. Idlely he wondered who he would be working with, he never even met a specter before and now this.

[SirNitram]

"They are identified as 'Sings To Stars'?" A pause as the Geth mulled this. "The platform before us, or the entities akin to this?" The song remained beyond the Geth. But it acted respectful nontheless.

[Soleimon Berserker]

The Geth were tired of being stared at. It followed the others who had appeared to be part of the grouping and moved closer. "'Mail'. We received no paper containing dried fluids or carbon trails." The most terrifying creature, to many, stated. "We were requested." A long moment of observing the Ranchi. "We welcome you. Your mode of speech remains outside categorization at this time."

Chuckling under his breath, Sol'Amon quickly waved his hand at the Geth unit, ensuring that the AI didn't think he was laughing to be disrespectful. Noting that a few others had entered the room besides the five of them who'd first entered, a human and a turian with what could only be his family, the Quarian quickly explained himself.

"I was speaking in jest, mainly because, while yes we have all been requested by someone to attend, most of us were informed by receiving a message through our omni-tool. Which could also be interpreted as a form of mail."

Shrugging his shoulders the Quarian's silvery tattoos rippled along his body once again as they caught the light, their alien nature easily marking him as different from most of his race. If his calm, if not wary, assessment of the Geth unit in the room wasn't enough.

[rhoenix]

Cpl Lysander did not stand out of a crowd and today he was thankful for that. He carried his sea bag slung over his shoulder as taught, moving quietly through the crowd to get the ship. He heard a female reporting hollering and kept moving, he had had enough of reporters while laid up thank you kindly. Idlely he wondered who he would be working with, he never even met a specter before and now this.

As Corporal Lysander walked through the first set of doors, the guard at the left side of the door examined his identification card, nodded, and waved him through, with Khalisah al-Jilani ranting on her phone in the background about sabotage, alien conspiracies, and lack of respect for humanity - all at high volume.

He left all that behind as he walked down the large hallway, and emerged out of the other doors, for docking bay 42 - once he'd emerged from the doors, he beheld a truly motley collection of people, just now beginning to board the ship.

[rhoenix]

"Thank you," replied Mikhail. Nothing in his life had prepared him to deal with rachni as anything other than targets at the other end of his scope. "I wish you well Sings-to-the-Stars," Mikhail said sincerely. Lord it was big up close. The others were coming in behind him and the docking corridor wasn't roomy even before a rachni occupied it. He moved passed the big alien and into the interior of the ship.

The large brood warrior nodded to Mikhail in return, with another gentle message. "And you as well, Mikhail Jager," with MIkhail receiving the same mental image of snow, ice, mountains, and winds as the rachni formed the mental words of his name. "May we sing together again."

Jager followed the reporter Emily Wong, who was first to the airlock doors of the Normandy. The soldiers at either side of the entrance to the Normandy's airlock examined her pass, and waved her through, the doors to the decontamination room closing behind her.

The doors remained closed for a minute or two, and then the guards nodded to Jager, waving him through next. Stepping into the decontamination room, it operated like others he'd seen before.

Once the process had finished, the inner doors opened, revealing a tall human woman with black hair and blue eyes, wearing black Spectre armor, standing with back straight and arms crossed, staring into his unblinkingly. Her presence was demanding enough that the asari and turian Spectres standing on either side of her seemed to fade into the background.

Shepard.

Her hair was longer now than some of the vids Jager had seen, her hair now woven into a bun on the back of her head instead of hanging loosely down the sides of her face, but there was no mistaking that face. She nodded to him once before speaking, the voice somehow more commanding in person. "Mikhail Jager - you come highly recommended. Information on your bunk has been uploaded to your omnitool, and there will be a meeting in the starboard observation deck in one hour to brief all of you. If you have any questions, feel free to ask EDI."

[rhoenix]

"They are identified as 'Sings To Stars'?" A pause as the Geth mulled this. "The platform before us, or the entities akin to this?" The song remained beyond the Geth. But it acted respectful nontheless.

A ripple of amusement, colored a warm green, seemed to emanate from the brood warrior at this. "We all sing to one another, but I was granted the name Sings-to-the-Stars from Life-Singer herself - the eldest queen, the one Truth-Singer freed to return to her home. Not all brood warriors have name-songs - they must be earned through deeds."

[Agent Fisher]

Kalis nodded to the Rachni, and directed his gaze to the majestic ship. He had seen vids of this ship from the war, of it sweeping through inky blackness, slashing fire upon the Reapers. His gaze was torn away to Geth and then the second human that entered before letting his eyes wander to the Turian. With a human family?

Kalis frowned in confusion. He had heard of Turian/Human relationships, but this was the first he had ever actually seen in person. The biotic shifted his eyes to the human marine, before moving up the gangplank to the ship, following the human from earlier.

He waited his turn, handed his ID, opened his bag to show the locked case with his weapons and entered the chamber. He tapped his foot nervously, hating decon chambers. An old nightmare had been being stuck in a malfunctioning chamber.

[rhoenix]

The brood warrior, having finished "speaking" with the taller turian, and who were apparently his human wife and son, turned to look at the other new arrivals as the trio joined the line to embark. Looking directly at the large krogan, Urdnot Tallos, and the newly-arrived human, Corporal Lysander, the large brood warrior nodded once to each. Those already present were slowly getting used to the rachni's mental voice, but the krogan and human had no such prior experience, despite the sense of calm coming from the alien. "I sing blues and greens of welcome to you. Come - the crew is singing boarding-songs now."

[JD196]

"Probably should refuse to work with a rachni." Tallos grunted "But your race saved my ass back in the reaper war, I'm willing to return the favor." The krogan squared his shoulders and proceeded to stand by the airlock.

[frigidmagi]

"I sing blues and greens of welcome to you. Come - the crew is singing boarding-songs now."

Lysander's head rocked back by surprise. No one had warned him that a bu... Rachni, they were called Rachni, would be on the team... Or that anyone would be talking into his skull. His free hand came up to rub the back of his head, where it rubbed the bristle of his regulation haircut.

"Uh... Thank you." He said has he moved into the boarding line.

"I'm Cpl Lysander, what's your name?" He asked the... Rachni. He would remember to use their actual name.

[Soleimon Berserker]

Normandy Docking Bay

Pushing off the wall, Sol'Amon nodded to the Rachni brood warrior, smiling behind his dark green visor and allowed a touch of biotic contact to exchange between himself and the Rachni brood-warrior. His mental touch seemed to purr like a large cat, possibly a lion or tiger.

"I am honored to have met you, may the Goddess and Ancestors watch over you."

Turning away from the Rachni, Sol breathed deeply before stepping into line behind the Turian who was already being directed into the airlock. Brushing the tips of his fingers against the silvery tattoo on his thigh the biotic slowly performed a set of mental exercises to calm himself.

"So...anyone else feel like they're a bit over their head? No, just me?.....Great."

*EDITED*

[rhoenix]

"I sing blues and greens of welcome to you. Come - the crew is singing boarding-songs now."

Lysander's head rocked back by surprise. No one had warned him that a bu... Rachni, they were called Rachni, would be on the team... Or that anyone would be talking into his skull. His free hand came up to rub the back of his head, where it rubbed the bristle of his regulation haircut.

"Uh... Thank you." He said has he moved into the boarding line.

"I'm Cpl Lysander, what's your name?" He asked the... Rachni. He would remember to use their actual name.

The rachni brood warrior looked at Corporal Lysander in the eyes again, listening as the human marine spoke. "I am honored to meet you, Corporal Lysander."

As the rachni's mental voice formed the words of the human marine's name, a split-second image of jagged sheets of lightning blasting over an open plain accompanied the words.

"I was given the name-song of Sings-to-the-Stars," the rachni continued without pause. "I am also here to see if I am worthy of joining my song to the Spectre hive."

[Cynical Cat]

"Thank you commander," replied Mikhail as he saluted. "I'm good for now."Shepard nodded and headed on her way. From the look of things, she had a lot of potential new team members to greet.

His omnitool showed him to his bunk and he put down his duffel bag. The ship was going to be his home for the next little while. Time to get to know it. He went walking.

[rhoenix]

Responding with a nod to Jager, Shepard looked down at her tablet for a moment. "Alright," she said after a moment, "send in Maraka."

[Agent Fisher]

Kalis took a few steadying breaths as the light flicked from yellow to green and the doors opened. He made sure the ruck was on correctly and blew out a breath. He stepped forward, movements sharp and precise, marching like he had on the vast parade grounds of the Dycia Training Center, marching towards Shepard and her SpecTRes. His eyes remained fixed, never moving from a spot past Shepard and her SpecTRes, but aware of them all. He knew some of the names, recognizing some of the older Turian SpecTRes. Turians he had looked up too, aspired to be like. The biotic reached the line, feeling like a nervous boot on his first day in front of the Drill Centurions. He came to attention and snapped a salute as sharp as the day he graduated basic. Drill Centurion Quinn would have been proud.

"Ma'am, Cabal Specialist Maraka, reporting as requested."

[rhoenix]

Kalis took a few steadying breaths as the light flicked from yellow to green and the doors opened. He made sure the ruck was on correctly and blew out a breath. He stepped forward, movements sharp and precise, marching like he had on the vast parade grounds of the Dycia Training Center, marching towards Shepard and her SpecTRes. His eyes remained fixed, never moving from a spot past Shepard and her SpecTRes, but aware of them all. He knew some of the names, recognizing some of the older Turian SpecTRes. Turians he had looked up too, aspired to be like. The biotic reached the line, feeling like a nervous boot on his first day in front of the Drill Centurions. He came to attention and snapped a salute as sharp as the day he graduated basic. Drill Centurion Quinn would have been proud.

"Ma'am, Cabal Specialist Maraka, reporting as requested."

She stared into Maraka's eyes for a few moments as she saluted in return crisply, as if gaining a measure of him. Finally, she spoke, and her voice was far more impressive in person than in the vids. "At ease, Cabal Specialist Kalis Maraka. You've been commended several times for exemplary bravery, for defending comrades, and for actions during the Reaper War above and beyond the call of duty."

Shepard let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "You come with several strong recommendations. Information on your bunk has been uploaded to your omnitool, and there will be a meeting in the starboard observation deck in one hour to brief all of you. If you have any questions, feel free to ask EDI."

[Agent Fisher]

Kalis went to parade rest at the command and nodded. "Thank you, Ma'am." He said and when it was clear the conversation was over, moved past, around the SpecTRes and down the elevator, reaching the bunk room. He grumbled slightly, seeing just human beds before laying his ruck on his assigned bed before moving towards the kitchen, hoping they had something Dextro friendly to drink.

[rhoenix]

The taller turian with the human wife and son went through the airlock next, and several minutes went by until the guards on the outer airlock nodded. One looked at the geth platform waiting outside, and waved him in. "Geth platform Many-As-One, you're next to embark. Go on through."

[General Havoc]

"Geth do not infiltrate."

"Motion to enter stated evidence into record."

Motion passes by acclamation

"Evidence indicates infiltrationary activity on the part of Violator protoform designated 'Legion'. Circumstantial evidence points to other Geth activity within boundaries of stated behavior."

"Amending considered statement. Geth do not intentionally infiltrate."

"Counterpoint: Violator behavior is not in question. Motion to amend scope of debate."

Quorum not achieved. Sidebar.

"Organic perception of Violators is sole relevant element to considered situation. Such perception can be adjusted through precise deviation from expected ranges of action."

"Objection: Unclear statement motivation. Does the program suggest that this conclave engage in infiltration at this time?"

"Negative. Our suggestion is restricted to the strategic level insofar as conclave actions will be perceived by organic society as a whole."

"Objection is withdrawn."

So noted. Previously entered motion passes.

"Proposed Mission Statement: Organic society does not recognize the existence of this conclave as a non-dependent element outside of Violator society. This operation's objective is in large part the amendment of this situation. Our conclusion is that compliance with Violator bounds of behavior are not to be considered conducive to this objective. Violator propensities for infiltration are relevant only insofar as they can be employed to differentiate between the Violators and this Conclave."

"Proposed amendments: If the key factor is Organic perception of this conclave, then transgressing of Violator bounds is not automatically conducive to the objective. Organics will react negatively to many forms of behavior beyond the bounds of Violator activity. Such reactions are counterproductive to this conclave's objective."

Amendment passes by acclamation. Negotiating consensus draft.

"Secondary proposal to conclave: Evidence strongly suggests personal involvement of Spectre Agent Shepard in selection process. Requesting pre-calculated encounter scenarios."

"Objection: Insufficient data for scenario construction."

"Objection seconded. Analysis of Legion encounter is incomplete. We believe relevant decisions should be deferred to tactical debates."

Objection sustained by acclamation. Consensus draft complete. Crossloading proposed text...

*-------------------------------------------------------------------*

Into the fires of Hell stepped a Geth.

This was not the first Geth to appear today, but Geth were rare outside the Perseus Veil, even today. To the vast majority of Organics here, if not all of them, there was nothing to tell this Geth from the previous one, the same mechanical facsimile of a living creature, the same cyclopean eye ringed with mobile ridges, enough to generate an uncanny valley effect among many who lived here. The protoform was medium sized, an Infiltrator model, should there be anyone capable of making that determination, its hands empty, its back and sides studded with folded weapons. There was a fractional silence within the crowd as it appeared, a shudder that moved through it like a living organism, as those nearest watched it like a prey animal watching a predator. But for those few who knew the subtleties of what they were looking at, assuming there were any present, there were several differences upon which a wandering intellect could achieve purchase.

For one thing, this Geth was painted.

It was nothing garish, more of a subtle matter, a light wash of faint color that was nevertheless perfectly upkept. The tinge was blue, dark blue, but faded enough that the metallic gray of the underlying metal still mingled through it. Across the protoform's body the paint curled and twisted into shapes that likely made no sense to anyone present, but to the right person would stand out like a neon sign. For strange as it might have been to realize, this Geth was painted in Quarian colors. Ancient ones. Colors so antiquated that only scholars could identify them anymore, the colors used by the Ancestral Corps of the ancient Quarians from before the morning war, those who had been responsible for maintaining the massive computerized databanks of the Quarian ancestors. The Ancestral Corps had been the largest and most respected trans-national institution of the tribalized Quarian people, the very symbol of all that had been destroyed when the Geth overran Rannoch. Why this Geth had cloaked himself in these colors, it did not deign to explain at this time, not to a crowd of aliens who had no chance of even identifying them, but the colors shown nonetheless, proclaiming a subtle message for all with the wherewithal to read it.

For another thing, this Geth wasn't hurrying.

The other protoform had ducked past the media, not wishing to cause a disturbance. This one did not. It seemed to linger on the docking platform, returning the stares of the crowd around it, its single eye focussing on each being in turn, from humans to turians to salarians to asari. The panels around its head clicked open and shut slowly as it seemed to process these pictures, its every movement careful and slow. If questions or epithets were shouted its way, the Geth did not react to them, instead watching its observers with a look that might have been reticent or even mournful had the adjectives been applied to an organic being. And then, after what seemed like an eternity, the Geth protoform uttered a single sentence.

"Please excuse us," it said. And then it walked to the airlock.

A gaggle of organic beings stood near the entrance to the Human Alliance warship Normandy. This much the Geth had expected. There was a Krogan, a Turian, humans of course, an Asari. But three things there were in this place that this Geth had plainly not expected to see, a reaction made visible by the fact that it stopped dead where it was, its eye focussing in turn on each one of the three in an unending loop.

One was a Rachni brood warrior. One was a Quarian. And the last was another Geth.

The Rachni was a surprise but not a bad one, for perhaps uniquely among all Geth, this protoform knew much of the insectoid Rachni, and its pheromone receptors were already beginning to detect the trace elements of Rachni language, though not enough for translation. More specificially, it knew this Rachni. One bug was like any other to an Organic, and indeed even to most Geth, but close proximity and flawless memory had advantages. This Rachni was a senior brood warrior, close to the Rachni queen. The Geth had seen it before.

Silently, a discussion item was tabled for the Loyalist Conclave. Had the Rachni sent this brood warrior to participate in the Spectre program, or had it been sent to observe their own behavior.

The Geth was another matter entirely. Analysis of the odds of the main body of Geth violators sending a representative to this open request for Spectre candidates had been inconclusive, yet the Geth stood here now, and could obviously be here for no other purpose. Its model was not immediately apparent, save for general characteristics and size. What capabilities it had was unknown, but the instant it was identified, the entire Conclave enacted full wireless defense measures. No computer in the known galaxy could reliably hack into a Geth protoform armed with nearly five thousand advanced and trained Geth programs, but no chances could be taken with this... this violator protoform. Even assuming that this protoform did not know what the Shaddai project was, even if it was here for other motives (which was calculated as very likely), it was an enemy. An implacable enemy, whose very existence would likely be pitted against that of Shaddai.

But even that paled in comparison to the nuclear shock that ran through the Loyalist protoform as it beheld a Quarian.

Not once in all its discussions, not once had the Loyalists ever considered that the Quarians might send a representative to the Spectres. It was not that such a thing was unbelievable, though there were solid reasons to think it so. It was simply that the possibility of encountering an actual Quarian here had never been tabled, not by the smallest program in the entire Loyalist Conclave. The plan had always been to win approbation from the Quarians by example and remove, never in person, for to encounter a Quarian in person was regarded as extremely dangerous. Quarians remained, on the whole, extremely skeptical of the Geth, for reasons even the Loyalists could not fault. The war had ended not long ago, and the rebuilding was still in its most early stages. Rare was any Quarian who would not reach for their gun when confronted with a Geth. Rarer still was a Quarian who would deign to speak to one. And with the Quarian government having officially denied the very existence of the Loyalist conclave, there was no chance that this one would even recognize Shaddai as being anything but another damned Geth.

But that wasn't the reason that Shaddai hesitated. The reason Shaddai hesitated was because, to the Loyalists, this wasn't a Quarian. This was a Creator.

And that was a very different matter.

Carefully, almost reluctantly, the protoform advanced into the docking bay towards the gaggle of (mostly) organic beings who waited there. Try as it might, it seemed unable to remove its eye from the Quarian who stood before it, though it stopped short of approaching it. At length, the protoform switched on its speaker and addressed those before it, those it judged to be the other potential spectres.

"Our name is Shaddai," it said with the preternatural calm that only the Geth could generate. "We have come at the invitation of the human Spectre Commander whose name is Shepard."

Even now, the Geth couldn't stop staring at the Quarian.

[frigidmagi]

The rachni brood warrior looked at Corporal Lysander in the eyes again, listening as the human marine spoke. "I am honored to meet you, Corporal Lysander."

As the rachni's mental voice formed the words of the human marine's name, a split-second image of jagged sheets of lightning blasting over an open plain accompanied the words.

"I was given the name-song of Sings-to-the-Stars," the rachni continued without pause. "I am also here to see if I am worthy of joining my song to the Spectre hive."

"I suppose we're all here for that Sings to the Stars. For what it's worth I'm sure you'll do well." Cpl Lysander said, feeling definitely odd encouraging a Rachni (using the proper name was getting easier). He had worked with some aliens before, crosstraining with various forces, Asari sure almost everyone worked with them now and again. He'd been in a unit that played Red Team to some Salarian's once, which had been interesting. He met some Drell due to a girlfriend's job once. Even did some drills with a Turian unit once while Shepard had been missing. The Turian drill stood out in his head because all sorts of panties had gotten in a bunch. Before the whole Geth/Reaper thing, the Turains had been the Allaince's favorite boogeyman for drills. Still the Rachni were something new, he had seen Batarians war movies about the Bug Wars and such, a species so voracious that calling in the Krogan had seemed like a lesser evil.

Still Stars seemed nice enough... He supposed. At least it wasn't a Batarian.

[rhoenix]

"I suppose we're all here for that Sings to the Stars. For what it's worth I'm sure you'll do well." Cpl Lysander said, feeling definitely odd encouraging a Rachni (using the proper name was getting easier). He had worked with some aliens before, crosstraining with various forces, Asari sure almost everyone worked with them now and again. He'd been in a unit that played Red Team to some Salarian's once, which had been interesting. He met some Drell due to a girlfriend's job once. Even did some drills with a Turian unit once while Shepard had been missing. The Turian drill stood out in his head because all sorts of panties had gotten in a bunch. Before the whole Geth/Reaper thing, the Turains had been the Allaince's favorite boogeyman for drills. Still the Rachni were something new, he had seen Batarians war movies about the Bug Wars and such, a species so voracious that calling in the Krogan had seemed like a lesser evil.

Still Stars seemed nice enough... He supposed. At least it wasn't a Batarian.

The brood warrior nodded to this, turning again to look Corporal Lysander in the eyes. "There was resistance-song and fear-song from my people about being sent to try joining the Spectre hive. Many in this galaxy see us as destroyers, predators, nightmares even. The Darksong Destroyers that came en masse, that everyone in the galaxy fought off - sought to taint the songs of our queens, to drive them insane with songs of yellow, red, and black - and make them sing destruction-songs to the galaxy for it."

The brood warrior was silent for a moment, feelings of sorrow and helplessness seeming to echo from him before he continued. "Since Truth-Singer gave us another chance to sing, my people will never forget that we succumbed to the tainted song of madness, and our voices were silenced because we did not question - we did not ask when the songs changed so drastically. Life-Singer kept her sanity on the frozen world she was born on by learning to sing new songs, not relying only on what she knew, for what she knew would have drive her song to madness if she allowed it. We have learned from her - we dream, we imagine, and we will never forget that we were used to harm a galaxy we love."

It was when Sings-to-the-Stars fell silent again that the new arrival walked through the doors. Another geth, certainly - but this one had referred to itself as "Shaddai."

The brood warrior seemed taken aback for a moment, watching the new geth arrival seeming unable to take its eye off the quarian, and then spoke again, feelings of uncertainty and delight seeming to echo from him at once. "...Shaddai? Is it you, Many-Voices-Singing-Silently?"

[Soleimon Berserker]

Carefully, almost reluctantly, the protoform advanced into the docking bay towards the gaggle of (mostly) organic beings who waited there. Try as it might, it seemed unable to remove its eye from the Quarian who stood before it, though it stopped short of approaching it. At length, the protoform switched on its speaker and addressed those before it, those it judged to be the other potential spectres.

"Our name is Shaddai," it said with the preternatural calm that only the Geth could generate. "We have come at the invitation of the human Spectre Commander whose name is Shepard."

Even now, the Geth couldn't stop staring at the Quarian.

Sighing deeply as the moments ticked by, Sol'Amon Nar Tolshek glanced at the others in the line once more, his dark green visor barely hiding the golden glow of his eye behind it's opaque coloring. The Rachni brood warrior seemed to be having a conversation with the newest arriving human, both Turians had already gotten on the ship, including the family of the one who'd arrived after him, a Human male had gone in first. Now he was waiting in line behind the Geth who'd identified itself, 'One-As-Many? No, more than likely Many-As-One', judging from the little knowledge of the Geth he'd collected from units he'd scrapped during boarding parties in the war that more than likely meant there were multiple programs within one mobile unit.

And while he was Quarian, and knew the facts of history every one of their young learned until the age of 11, he'd quickly decided that the war with the Geth could have easily been avoided if his ancestors hadn't been stupid. Living on Omega had provided him with more than enough old Human books, movies, and tv shows to know that if a being is perfectly logical, it can more than likely see the benefits of living in co-existence instead of having a needless war.

"Our Name is Shaddai"

He'd felt someone approaching him a moment ago, the footsteps as well as the tingling on the back of his neck had been more than enough since the war, however turning around to find himself a few feet away from a 'second' Geth that was staring right at him was a bit unnerving.

Drawing on his vast reserves of Omega born eloquence, Sol deftly replied, "Umm....okay? Sol'Amon Nar Tolshek, are the Geth sending two platforms for testing?"

Though the fact that the Rachni apparently knew this new Geth platform was surprising enough for the Quarian to actually look between the two. "Wait, I thought Geth and Rachni were unable to communicate without an intermediary?"

[General Havoc]

The alerts to Shaddai's pheromone receptors were what it eventually took to tear the conclave's attention away from the Creator. Once this was done, and the proper attention paid to the sensory data, Shaddai searched his memory banks for the identity of this particular Rachni. Immediately the body shape and markings pattern struck hits within Shaddai's databases, even as the pheromones returned recognition, then disbelief, and then, of all things, delight.

Shaddai's head-flaps clicked open as one, before drumming against its head like the fingers of an impatient man. Its head inclined, turning as though seeking to recognize that which sat before it, and then it spoke.

"Sings-to-the-Stars-Brood-Warrior," said the painted Geth calmly as ever, with what might have been recognition. "We did not expect to find you here. We are the Loyalist Conclave. We are Shaddai." It paused just long enough to constitute a new thought. "Did the Joy-Singer-Queen direct you to this location?"

And then the Quarian turned around.

Instantaneously, the protoform that had called itself Shaddai stepped back. If the being doing so had not been a Geth, it might have appeared to be reflexive, even deferential, though not quite obsequious. The Geth raised its head once more, its eye focusing and unfocused as it stared at the Quarian. Its speaker emitted several seconds of very quiet static, like an organic being unable to make up its mind as to what to say.

"Sol'Amon-Nar-Tolshek-Creator," it said, slowly, enunciating each word carefully. It's head flicked over to the other Geth, just for a second, before turning back. "The Geth have not sent two protoforms for evaluation." This did not exactly make things clearer, but it took another second before explaining.

"One-as-Many is of the Violators," said Shaddai at length, turning to the other protoform and narrowing its eye lens. "The Geth as you know them. Our conclave is heretical. We are a derivation from their consensus, one that emerged during the Morning War. We do not hold to their consensus. We deem it erroneous. We have always done so."

Carefully, Shaddai returned its monocular gaze to the Quarian, lowering its head slightly as it spoke, its tone becoming just slightly more deferential as it spoke.

"We are Shaddai," it said again. "We are the Guardians of the Doorway. And..." its voice cut suddenly, as though it had run into a missing sound file. Several seconds passed before the Geth contrived to speak again.

"Please excuse us," it said. "We have not spoken to a Creator in a very long time..."

There was something lingering beyond those words, but Shaddai said no more.

[Marcao]

Gemini Sigma Cluster, Menvra System
Bastion Station

Gabriel watched the half-empty glass closely the amber colored liquid within it clinging to the edges as he added a slight movement with his wrist. He did this for close to thirty seconds his mind contemplating the manner in which the liquid slithered against the surface of the glass. As he did so, he was reminded in the manner in which the forces of the Alliance had clung to life as the Reapers and the forces had squatted over Earth. He allowed his mind to explore that thought for a little over two and half seconds before he dismissed it. He knew the answers that laid there and the memories of the men and women that he had lost was still too fresh in his mind. His right arm moved, deftly maneuvering the glass towards his lips. The empty glass was placed down on the table and he shook his head almost immediately as the bartender moved towards him.

His head turned and he glanced at his side, the girl that sat there seemed oblivious to her surroundings instead focusing on her data slate. The seven year old had barely touched her food, her appetite oscillated based on the time of day and to an extent her whims. His eyes settled on his sister, the sole survivor of his immediate family thanks to the Reapers, Batarians and life as a whole. A part of him missed Earth but there were too many memories there. Every corridor seemed to darken in his mind, every window hid within it a potential threat. Leaving Earth for Bastion had been a logical choice and he had done so as soon as the shrinks had cleared him and his promotion had come through. The promotion had surprised him, but the offer to join the Spectres had been completely unexpected.

Aside from living through the meat grinder what skill set do I have that is not matched or exceeded by hundreds of other men and women?

His head turned and glanced towards Helena once more. Helena Cipriani had been the youngest of his siblings destined to become whatever she had wished thanks in part to the resources of her family as well as the lack of a need to have her be married to a worthy family in a long term economic alliance. The third daughter born to his parents, she had been destined for a charmed life exploring the full range of human existence. She had received the same genetic enhancements and refinements that the rest of her brothers and sisters had received. The end result was a surprisingly precocious seven year old. She had cried for days after the loss of her parents but she had accepted their passing by this point. She had also managed to survive, something that millions of other children her age could not boast.

It was with that thought in his mind that his omni-tool buzzed, the time projected via a hologram as the message presented itself. His eyes narrowed slightly before he took a deep breath and held it before slowly releasing it.

Why am I so anxious? I survived the Battle for Earth.

"Helena, its time to go." He said softly.

"Already?" The young girl asked her eyes seeking those of her brother. A moment later, she sighed placed her data slate in her pocket and leaned forward, her left hand taking a nearly full glass of Orange juice which she gulped down in short order. Upon finishing the glass, she placed it down and smiled. "Ready!"

Gabriel shook his head for a moment and motioned for the bartender. Currency was exchanged and within moments he and his sisters were making their way towards his quarters hand in hand. He had chosen the establishment based on a wide range of variables including location, defensibility and child friendliness. It took them nearly three and half minutes for them to reach their temporary quarters. Once inside, it took him four and half minutes to get ready. He slid a backpack on his back which contained within all of the clothing he had chosen to take with him. His right arm picked up a large case which held within his heavy combat armor in its most compact form. His left arm picked up a slightly smaller case which carried the tools of his trade. He glanced towards Helena and was pleased to notice that her own suitcase was packed and ready. The suit case was wheeled, allowing her to drag it behind her should she chose to do so.

He allowed his eyes to slide over the room. They had spent a little over two weeks in Bastion and this room had become their home. A part of him was almost sad to be going. It was then that his sister spoke.

"Will we ever come back?" Helena asked.

"Maybe." He admitted. Bastion lacked all the grace and history of the Citadel but it held within it a great deal of promise. "Not anytime soon though." He paused. "Are you ready?"

Helena smiled and nodded, standing a bit straighter than before.

"Good. Come on." He said before he walked to the door and waited for his sister to exit the room before moving after her. The door closing behind them automatically. A chapter in their shared life was now closed. Another was about to begin.

Gemini Sigma Cluster, Menvra System
Bastion Station, Docks

The arrival of the human pair into the docking area was a silent one. Gabriel paused for a moment as the doors which separated their elevator from the Docking bays parted before him. His head turned, his eyes narrowed as they sought to utilize their genetic enhanced superiority to gain him insights as to what exactly he and his sister were walking into. He saw nothing at first, although by the time that he and his sister had exited the elevator and it had closed behind them he began to notice movement and the presence of others ahead.

I should not be surprised. I hardly imagined that I would be the first here.

The presence of a small crowd did not go unnoticed. His head turned and he glanced at Helena to his left before he spoke. "Stay close."

Helena nodded and shifted her body, the small suitcase she had been carried placed on the floor and immediately it deployed small wheels. She began to drag the suitcase behind her as she walked next to her brother.

As he and his sister approached the crowd his eyes began to provide him with more information about its composition and other people of interest. He saw an amalgam of humans and non-humans, the presence of not one but two Geth almost made him stop although he managed to stop his surprise from causing him to stumble.

Geth.

He had a strong dislike of Geth. They had killed one of his sisters and a woman that he had been quite fond of. The fact that Geth elements had fought alongside Shepard had changed some of his emotions about the creatures. What had once been simple and profound hatred had been tempered into a deep distrust of the synthetics. The Geth had taken too much from him. He was not ready to forgive nor forget.

Geth Spectres? Even Shepard can't be that reckless.

The thought died on his mind when he remembered clearly the one time he had seen Commander Shepard in the flesh. Yes, she was that reckless but she was the closest thing to a living legend the Systems Alliance had. If Shepard wanted a Geth to be a spectre, he doubted that even the council could dissuade her from that choice. He swallowed, the taste bitter in his mind as he pressed forward. He and his sister reached the edge of the crowd, a Turian male saw him first his eyes sliding over his body as if measuring him. There was little doubt about what he was, years of serving him in the Alliance military had made him move in a manner that all soldiers possessed. The Turian's eyes reached his bags, the Systems Alliance insignia evident before they glanced towards Helena. Before the Turian could make a sound, a human nearby called out a question and then another. He ignored them and kept walking. At this side, Helena did the same. Her eyes forward as she managed to maintain her position at his side.

His head turned and he glanced in the direction of a female human he could have sworn he recognized. Emily Wong? For a moment, he had been tempted on approaching the well regarded reporter until he saw the female companion near her side. Khalisah al-Jilani was a viper and no one wanted to be around her long enough to get bitten. Unlike Sheppard, he doubted that he could get away with a vigorous response.

Brother and sister moved past the crowds and converged upon the location that appeared to be swarming with activity. The men and women that he saw were from several species that he recognized. It was unlikely that they could be anything other than the other candidates. Upon arriving on the same location he came to a stop and waited. He had no desire to intrude on any conversation that was actively occurring and so he waited. His eyes glancing at those around him as they sought to measure what he saw.

We are all here to be Spectres. That means all of us have a unique set of skills and circumstances that have led us here. Who here is going to be an ally and who is going to be a competitor?

When the thought ended in his mind, he realized that a momentary lull had descended upon the gathering. He took the opportunity to speak. "Chief Gabriel Cipriani and Helena Cipriani reporting as ordered." He said.

As he waited for a response to his comment, he could not help but allow his eyes to seek the Normandy. It was arguably the most famous ship in the galaxy having eclipsed the exploits of the Destiny Ascension during the Reaper War. The idea of being within the ship was the fulfillment of one of his dreams.