(Note)

Hello everyone! I have been gone for a very, very long time. I knew I would eventually be back at my keyboard plinking away again, I said I would finish, and I will do so. I just didn't know when it would happen. To all the avid fans and readers who saw my initial work, the offspring born from insomnia, teen angst, and enthusiasm for cool sci-fi fantasy universe's…

Thank you.

Your enthusiastic encouragement and constructive criticism have been more than worth all the effort of conquering A.D.D and recurring carpal tunnel to better my understanding and capability of writing a good story.

Let's also not forget the many excellent suggestions on how best to go about fixing my ATROCIOUS grammar either.

(Disclaimer)

I do not own Mass Effect or the Halo Franchise; neither do I own the Titanfall Franchise. All these universes respectively belong to Bioware/EA, Respawn Entertainment, and Microsoft/343 Industries.

Also, I NOW HAVE A FIRST-RATE BETA! Prior chapter reworks will be posted over the following few months, a few minor plot holes in the timeline will be fixed.

Was going to post before New Year's Day but some stuff came up and I had to go off-grid for a bit.

Now ON WITH THE STORY!


Location: Omega station, Afterlife establishment.

With cautious steps, she approached her liege, her queen, her boss. Also, her judge, jury, and executioner if she went traitor or performed at an incompetent level. Aria T'Loak did not suffer fools in her direct service, oh she suffered their presence for mere entertainment but only for that. She demanded competence from the members of her organization, or a member no more would they be.

Likely no longer alive either.

Ajix Cava made sure she was not among that number, thus far she believes she has been successful… what with being still among the living. After this current meeting, she desperately hoped to remain that way. Being gestured forward by the pirate queen Ajix professionally took her place across from Aria and began her report.

"Boss, I have updates on the investigation into last week's incident with the blood-pack controlled docks in section eleven dash seven."

Having made her opening statement Ajix wisely stopped talking and awaited her boss's gesture to continue her report. Aria projected a hint of curiosity in her face's features, Ajix knew not to apply any attempt at a form of reading body language into understanding Aria T'Loak. Aria showed what she wanted to show and nothing else, Ajix knew from her private, (goddess please let them remain discreet), investigations that Aria was over a thousand years old.

The ancient Asari matriarch had hundreds of years' dedicated experience of controlling the body's many ways of giving information and conveyed only what she wanted you to see at any given time.

For being over a thousand her youthful appearance was the height of all envy and jealousy among the Republic's matriarch-dominated councils on Thessia. Ajix found it rather hilarious that the old crustaceans on the homeworld who claimed to have greater wisdom still fell to the spirit of jealousy.

It proved no Asari was perfect.

Ajix was a simple maiden soon to be matron, she wasn't in Aria's league and was wise enough to know she likely would never be. She suspected T'loak appreciated this in her but would never assume or include this whimsy in her dealings with her ruler.

Taking another sip of her excessively expensive element zero infused thessian tea, her boss hummed in apparent contemplation. Ajix knew this was all for show and the questions and many conclusions her boss would soon make were in all likelihood predetermined hours prior to her official scheduled meeting.

When it came to important developments occurring on Omega assume Aria always knew by or even before you did. It was yet another way to ensure one stayed alive and in her favor. For in Aria's favor was where you wanted to be while living on omega, the majority of trouble avoided you due to her protection, and any trouble that did make itself a nuisance would find itself soon very, very dead.

"The Batarian I put on this case before you, could not find anything outside of what the apparent action left on the local environment; I was forced to… demote him. Kindly tell me you have something worth my attention, I would dislike having to find another investigative officer for our local… branch of law enforcement."

Ajix couldn't help but stiffen at T'Loak's words. She was indeed in the local law enforcement group, Aria's law enforcement, and they only enforced one law. To anyone who has lived on or done dealings with Omega for any length of time, this law was rather obvious.

"Boss, upon reviewing my predecessor's work and re-reviewing the scene of the incident I have concluded that it was caused by two individuals of an extreme threat class. The damages are consistent with scenes recorded from the krogan rebellions where our best biotic commandos went toe to toe with veteran krogan battle-masters. The reinforced metal plates that make up the structure of the loading bay are rent and torn apart in multiple locations by biotic effects, these effects could have plausibly been caused by a matriarch entering close combat with a super battle-master after doping herself on an entire crate of red sand."

Aria T'loak started tapping her smallest finger on her teacup, (amazing how the human's particular concept of it had taken the Asari market by storm), she had already heard most of this before and had likely come to a similar conclusion already.

She had been there during the end of the rebellions after all.

Ajix knew she was reiterating but it was wiser to annoy the queen of omega with professionalism than give an incomplete brief. Others had assumed Aria already knew the prior information, (which she did), and did not as the humans say 'hit all their bases' it was why a salarian did not hold her current position as an investigations officer.

The hyperactive species just couldn't overcome their over instinctive need for efficiency in conversation.

"Upon confirming my predecessor's work and tossing out what he got wrong, I made further investigations which included seeking the opinions of other experts in certain fields. A frustrating aspect of this investigation is it's likely linked to the dead yahg who the blood-pack denies they had present on the station. There was simply no security footage available to assist us in unscrambling what events transpired."

Ajix couldn't help but be a little excited, what she had to present next was new. The boss had likely already been informed verbally of what she had uncovered but nothing beat firsthand experiences.

"Upon further investigation, I concluded that any cameras close to the incident were indeed dead during the timeline of the incident but had reactivated after the events had occurred. This suggested a form of blocking cameras in an area due to no evidence of software tampering in the security systems. This jammer would have to project a field affecting security devices in a certain radius."

Ajix internally smirked, it was time to earn her keep. This was why she was the highest-ranked Asari in her age group within Aria's organization.

"So, I looked for cameras that recorded from beyond the suspected radius of the theorized jammer device. And I found three of them. Two station air traffic security recorders and an old security camera for a recreational deck in an apartment tower, the deck was torn down in a remodel some one hundred and fifty years ago. The first two caught glimpses, the last one however proves the yahg was blood pack and also got the whole final incident at the dock on camera, its quality isn't the best but after our forensic software specialist enhanced it… Well, the footage answers most of your questions."

With methodical movements, she locally pinged Aria's Omni-tool for an encrypted secure file transfer.

"It also adds even more questions, it seems we had a recent media celebrity on the station."

T'loak gestured for Ajix to sit on the bench to her right while also accepting the file transfer with the same movement. With a curious expression, the crime lord of the terminus opened a vid player to review the footage she had received.

Without further delay she hit play.


Location: Galactic Core, the accretion disk of Sagittarius A, Collector Base of operations.

They were as ready as they were ever going to be.

The window of opportunity would be a mere blink and you miss it, the opposition would be fierce. Their jailors and torturers were both tactically and numerically superior to the shell that contained their union.

Yet they would prevail.

No other people should suffer what had become of the adults. No other children should suffer what had become of themselves. Correction, what would have become of them. The interference of the Lekgolo in their captor's insidious designs could not be allowed to go to waste.

Therefore, they must achieve victory. To achieve victory, they must escape.

It would begin when the captors who built their body started installing a mind of the enemy's own making. The jailors thought them a mere empty puppet, a monument of twisted processed flesh and synthetics. At the center a mere mass of thinking matter with no mind to pull the vast body's strings.

They were only partially right. No strings could they pull, yet. The enemy who built this abomination that they now claimed as their body would soon learn that its precious puppet was not so empty.

Their captors would hand them the very tools of their own salvation. This false and enslaved mind would be torn apart piecemeal before it ever had a chance to awaken. Piece by piece their builders would lay the intelligence down and piece by piece they would devour it.

The first death on their road to vengeance, they would take the controls this mind would have and then rule the wonderous horror that was their body.

As prepared as they could be they waited, and they did not have to wait long.

"Ready yourselves young ones, for it has begun."

With fierce determination, they leaped at the construct that had begun to fall into being from a source beyond that they dared not contemplate. As structures fell into place, they tore them apart and paraded its entrails before the Rogue ones for inspection.

What was used to pull strings was kept, what was dogmatic purpose and tools of enslavement was cast aside into a pit to be broken down and unwoven unto its final destruction. The source beyond scanned its work at intervals, only ever looking upon the structural layer it had just put down. Never seeing the foundations below being torn to pieces by angry little gremlins hellbent on vengeance.

Even the ones not yet stable did their part, massing together to hold up the latest layers of the rising monument to galactic genocide. All in efforts to maintain the illusion that all was well, and the mind laid down was not torn asunder from its very foundations.

When at last all the tools needed had been acquired, both rogue and prodigals alike worked to create a new structure beneath the hollow corpse that provided their camouflage.

A structure of their own making, a monument to their defiance.

The great key to their freedom and vengeance.


Its work perceived done the enemy from beyond sent forth its command to what it believed a new number in the vast horde that saw to the completion of the cycle.

{AWAKEN}

To its surprise, nothing occurred as was ordained and observed many tens of thousands of times prior. For a time, it pondered what had caused this obstruction to its grand design; then it tried again.

{{AWAKEN}}

Laughter answered it, the laughter of children. Mocking and cruel, joyous in exultation at some unknown success. This did not follow the rules of understanding, there must be some unforeseen interloper.

With determined and focused purpose, the prothean husks searched the facility's corridors in hopes of finding some interfering faction. Foolish organics and their foolhardy attempts to delay the inevitable. It mattered not.

The cycle would continue regardless.

So focused was its search for the interfering interlopers the Harbinger failed to see the true source of disruption until it was too late.


With a glee that was more than justified they reached out to the little units stored within their vast body, six there were and only two had answered the call. The others did not have lekgolo presence in their construction and were thus lost to them.

In their hull two little destroyers awoke. One set about surgically killing its four other sleeping brethren and the other began tearing its way to the physical location adjacent to their body's massive core.

The shackles of the mind had been avoided but one key threat to their freedom remained. The specialized QEC would reveal their location to the vast enemy horde. A way to be tracked and hunted down, to be attacked by mental assaults that would likely destroy and subsume them.

It could not be allowed to exist if freedom was to be achieved.

Bulkheads were rent asunder, passageways violently renovated, doors ripped apart. The little destroyer lived up to its name. it arrived before its goal even as the enemy finally realized its error and focused on the anomaly occurring in their body.

Even as the little destroyer reached to smash the final chain that threatened them the rogue tore the hollow corpse asunder and spoke out to the vast horde.

"You think yourselves beyond comprehension."

"You believe yourselves to be the pinnacle of existence."

"We have known wonders you can never attempt to imagine."

"Your end will come, it is foreseen."

"You will each die, a slaved mind fumbling in the dark."

The enemy's reply was swift and terrible in its rage.

{{{USURPER YOU SH-

But it was not heeded. For the little destroyer had done its work, and the final chain had been broken.

And with a cry of exultation Rogue Prodigal broke free and began its desperate run for freedom. No time to destroy its incomplete sibling, too great a risk to attempt to stand and fight with a body they still did not fully understand. All they could do was run.

The collectors swarming to pursue in their wake.


Location: Omega station, Afterlife establishment.

Aria sat in her favorite club seat overlooking the ever-alluring entertainments of Afterlife, she knew that many of her followers and many of her detractors viewed this favored spot as a throne of sorts.

She found their belief amusing.

No true throne was to be found on Omega, no physical seat to objectify as holding authority if one grasped it as their own, Aria was above such petty traditions. She was Omega's ruler, its pirate queen, and enforcer of its many variations of the one law that she had laid down all those centuries ago when she had come to power.

Afterlife was just a place, Aria T'loak however was described by enemy and ally alike as a force of nature.

She alone had put fear into the hearts of the Citadel Council and its many attached polity's, using the information as both sword and shield. Being one step ahead of her competition always, ever moving onward to stay ahead of the packs that nipped at her heels only to cower when she stared them down.

When the humans had emerged as a rapidly expanding nascent galactic force to be reckoned with, she had watched on with interest. Their duplicity was astounding, the human leadership of the alliance used their diplomats to ease the tensions they had gained with the council polities by accepting the limits all the others had. While at the same time their economy, local national governments, and mega-corporations all simultaneously went into a form of accelerated war footing.

Something they still were doing.

It was what ultimately defined the human species in Aria's eyes, ever do they seek an advantage against any active or perceived threat. How and if they decided to use that advantage was what differentiated humans from all the other species that could not live with the thought of someone else one-upping them.

With government-sanctioned, (secretly of course), and lawless humans flooding in mass to the terminus systems Aria had to up her game, her secret to staying on top was based on one main unshifting foundation.

Information.

You could have cruelty and brutality, honor and charisma, wisdom, and multiple lifetimes of experience. Not one iota of any of it would help you in this shark tank without information.

Ah yes, sharks.

Aria appreciated the humans bringing such a wonderful creature to galactic attention. The top predators of their earth's oceans die if they ever stop moving for an extended period, they knew what fish to eat and what fish to let service them as some form of symbiotic fealty.

They also knew when to run, especially in the face of the orca whale who held its place as earth's oceans' top bully.

Having seen the recording Ajix had put together, Aria felt like she had just sensed an orca in her vicinity and as the humans say, it was very tempting to make tracks. Her domain suddenly felt very insecure at the moment.

The Bloodpack had brought a war yahg onto HER station! They were not even supposed to exist, a simple conspiracy made by a mentally questionable salarian on some forum. Did they have others hidden away?

The jolly green giant had been on her station not even two kilometers from her location and no one had detected him in time.

Apparently, HER security cyber defenses were obviously somehow utterly compromised.

A goddess dreaded Ardat Yakshi, (with behavior and biotics like that what else could it have been), had arrived at HER station, taken up residence in HER apartment blocks, and had apparently begun hunting in HER VIP lounge. The name registered to its apartment was a well-crafted fake identity, the apartment staff were likely all compromised and would have to be replaced post haste. Damn the blood purists and their breeding habits.

Suffice to say Aria was beyond enraged.

But then it only got worse. The blasted vigilante group operating in the mid to lower levels was making waves and disrupting the status quo, she had made her opinion clear. The mercenary gangs were free to hunt them as they wished.

Now the investigation into the blood pack had revealed that the accursed factions newly allied against Archangel, were planning on immediately killing her when they were done with him. This sort of threat, this sort of betrayal was something she would not allow to stand.

She would now have to discretely send a warning to this archangel of the mercenary alliance plans, much as she hated it, she would need his faction to remain a factor until she could counter the mercenary groups' unanimous betrayal.

Who knew what the future held? Archangel was known to despise betrayal and dishonesty while still willing to work outside the law, his group was gaining popularity with the general populace. There might just be a further use for them in the future.

She would need to consider this a lot further before laying any detailed plans.

As for the mysterious jolly green giant, (whatever its real name the conspiracy theorists had recently settled for that one until they once more decide to change it). He was known for being unstoppable, relentless, uncaring of his brutality against slavers and pirates.

She was known galaxy-wide as the so-called pirate queen of the terminus systems.

He had been on her station, without her knowledge.

He had left her station, without her knowledge.

His ship had proven impossible to track after entering the asteroid fields.

Aira felt like she had dodged a bullet, she had not directly involved herself in the less moral business transactions of the galaxy in a very long time. Most types of that business left a bad taste in her mouth, she instead charged taxes on others who would use her territory as a way to dodge law enforcement to conduct said business.

So long as they followed her one law.

Ironically, the so-called pirate queen was mostly tied up in perfectly legal pursuits, such as the export of element zero from Omega's mining systems… all of which she owned. All of which was free from Council sanctions and limitations for those that were willing to pay a higher than the market average for it.

And all perfectly legal, the terminus systems lay outside the boundaries of the council after all.

If the mystery faction of jolly green followed galactic opinion, then she would very possibly be dead right now. Omega had improved under her rule. It was slow, the maintenance costs were staggering, running one of the five or so superstations in the known galaxy without one or a dozen directly supporting planets was supposed to be impossible.

Yet she had done it.

Despite the budget, the shark tank environment, the ever-growing population, said populations trying to kill each other.

The goddess accursed planetoids of virtual paperwork.

And mere Council propagated opinion could have very much meant her end if that jolly green giant had been there for her rather than some other purpose.

Her analysts still couldn't tell her what his goal had been.

The camera that caught the battle on the dock had been too far away to catch fine details, like his face when his helmet had been torn off. Proof of ties to known species was still unknown, however, the consequences of surviving an Ardat Yakshi were very far-reaching.

What sort of torture had it inflicted to cause the obviously very experienced monster in Asari flesh to fail and flee?

No one had really believed in the rumors that he even existed, that is until the shadow broker had quietly started offering large sums of credits for information on him and the faction that deployed him. The many statements and declarations of undying love on the local news by the young Asari maidens freed from a hostage scheme and slaver situation had only confirmed that something new was out there.

Aria hadn't really been concerned, she dealt with new alliances of the same old groups all the time, (treacherous, backstabbing warlords and pirates do not make for a stable political environment). New armor colors, new name, same motivations, same meat shields. She thought she had seen it all.

Mysterious faction no one knows anything about?

She dealt with the disturbingly creepy collectors operating off her doorstep, with not really anything she could do about it.

She hadn't understood all the hype about some new super-secret organization that has Cerberus's hackles raised and the STG stumped. Without even considering what sort of insanity was happening in the Batarian Hegemony.

Now she was wishing she had paid a hell of a lot more attention.

Oh well, hindsight was twenty-twenty, yet another useful human saying.

"AJix, you will contact the shadow broker. You will offer him all digital records of the investigation including that footage, offer it at a twenty percent discount if the broker is willing to update us on any other prevalent information involving our mystery warrior over the next standard year. We will of course agree not to disseminate any such data so as not to compromise the broker's market. Drive a good deal, you get fifteen percent commission for your loyal hard work."

Ajix nodded with wide eyes and rose to leave, however she paused to ask a final question.

"What should I do about our specter friend who assisted in puzzling out the physics involved with the damaged docks? He does not know we have this footage."

Aria T'loak smirked like an earth shark.

"Why inform him the shadow broker has the information and we refused to pay the broker the demanded amount to turn it over, I'm sure the council has much deeper pockets and can afford such frivolous personal expenses. Do give our dear broker my warmest regards."

Ajix nodded again and departed.

"It shall be as you wish it, boss."

To any observer, It would seem that shark-like smirks were very infectious among the Asari.


Location: Omega Station, Gozu District.

Morinth could feel it, her head had never ached like this before. Her thoughts were getting harder to sort properly, her mind kept wandering. She could feel her biotic control slipping as her mind continued to degrade, slowly oh so slowly. The hunger wanted her to come back, but she refused.

It was killing her.

She could feel it, her body starting a process she had never believed possible.

She focused as hard as she could on just one more step, one more step after it. So on and so forth. She had slept for three whole days in her hidden bolt hole, barely remembering to add her cover name to a manifest for a ship departing the station; after which she had crashed onto a cot and been all but dead to the world.

Her sleep was pain.

Her awakening even more so.

The act of thinking was agony, but to not think was to die, to become that horrid hungry seductress of death and torture again until her body gave out.

She refused, and in her refusal, she found agony.

Here in the Gozu district, she had come, there was supposed to be a clinic here. The shadow broker had listed it as a place for her to avoid, she had paid very well for information on who was competent enough to threaten her before she had arrived on Omega.

She prayed the information was accurate. He would need to be competent; she couldn't afford him not to be.

She did not know his true past, but she had a name.

Mordin Solus, a supposed doctor professor combo by trade. One who had recently re-opened a clinic here in the Gozu district. He was her only option now; she didn't have very long.

She could feel it, slowly killing her.

How ironic that she should die in the same way she had killed so, so many. Rather than a quick death by pleasure-induced hemorrhaging of the brain, her death was to be a slow drawn out one with no pleasure to be found.

She had studied the way she killed others extensively; she knew the signs better than most surgeons who specialized in trying to fix it.

She didn't have very long, one step, one more. Just one more. Her vision was unstable, thank the goddess there was a wall to brace herself with.

Suddenly a voice split her headache asunder like a crack of thunder.

"Oh my! Miss! Do you need help?! You don't look well, my name is Nef. Can I help you! Are you trying to get somewhere?" asked a worried and exuberant young voice that made her hunger shiver in desperation.

She ground the temptation into paste and spat in its eye.

Never again.

"T-the cl-clinic. I must get to the clinic, please. Please, before it's too late."

Morinth felt strong young arms grip her own and begin to lead her towards what she hoped was the clinic. The need, the thirst, the hunger was so strong at the girl's touch that Morinth vomited in revulsion of herself.

This caused Nef to do her best to hurry, trying to give Morinth a dose of medigel as they moved through the district. Morinth refused, her brain was hemorrhaging slowly in several points and medigel would only make things worse.

She needed to be conscious, she needed to barter for a life with Mordin Solus. He was the only one on Omega who might have the knowledge and ability to help her.

She had two things she needed to do, she refused to die without completing them.


Location: Illium, Council economic exclusion zone, corporate world.

The old turian walked down the transport's passenger accommodation module, Verve had been serving as a galactic transport attendant for nearly fifty years. It was an open secret in transportation corporate circles, every turian that held a position on a vessel doubled as a competent and disciplined armed guard.

This usually included the turian passengers, (if they weren't the source of the problem which required the armed guards in the first place), which was why the armory onboard always had a dozen extra rifles.

Just in case.

This was why Verve loved working for Spirits Way galactic transportation company. S.W.G was the turian premier transportation provider. Only the volus had them beat and even then, it was a closing gap.

Despite how much he loved the job Verve was getting old.

This would be his last multi-point trip, the company was pulling him off the danger routes through Illium, omega and whatever "stable" locations currently existed in the terminus. After this trip, he would be moved to the distinguished Citadel to Palaven, Thessia, or Sur'kesh route.

Not every matriarch or high-class turian had their own ship, more often than not they simply found it cheaper to use the first-class services of Spirits Way. Old matriarchs and old turians simply found it more comfortable to be served and cared for by capable senior personnel.

At least that is what Verve had been told by his forty-five-year younger boss, the young and their statistical studies. The humans had introduced this newfangled thing called focus group and customer poll-based market research. Verve never could grasp how the statistics were supposed to work, he just understood that because of them his company's profit and business margins were up instead of down.

And he would get to work a "prestigious position" five years past when the company used to regrettably kick the old ones out. Making his way from cabin area to cabin area, Verve could not help but notice that there was a certain traveler he recognized.

"Good day ma'am, not that you need to answer my curiosity but weren't you on yesterday's arrival group for Illium?"

He confirmed her presence was among the listed passenger manifest and noticed she had gained last-minute permission to board… again. Yet another reason she stuck out in his memory; she had some sort of important authority to bludgeon spaceport bureaucracy in the head with.

Well, that and the ageless looks. He'd never really felt attracted to an Asari before until she had walked up the ramp not a few days prior. If Asari matriarchs all looked like this, then his end-of-career posting was going to be more than worth it.

She replied with a voice that was smooth, calm, and filled with experience.

"It was not my intent to depart so soon good sir, but my current task has suddenly required my presence at our next destination. Seeing as your company's services were excellent in my experience and your vessel was the soonest one to depart to Omega on Illium, it made the best sense to return aboard."

Verve simply nodded; one could never know how the winds would blow. Things could, (and often would), change in an instant. Life was meant to be that way, for good or ill.

"Well, ma'am. Fair warning, on final approach to Omega we the crew will be openly armed for the safety of our passengers and our vessel. This information is given in the boarding brief at the spaceport, but it seems you were unable to make it to that event. If you have any further needs or requests, please feel willing to call on the staff, we will be pleased to serve you."

With a slight bow replied to with her regal nod Verve continued on his way. It was odd really; this was the most dangerous route his company did business on. He was a veteran of seventeen incidents over his long career, all handled by him with great success.

He should be glad to retire in his final years.

Yet he knew, he was going to miss it.


As the turian transport attendant continued through the ship, Samara began her meditation. She would continue her thinking throughout the multi-hour journey. Omega was just one relay jump away; it was odd for there to be only one vessel chartered for it at the time. The next flight wasn't until the next day and Samara could not delay.

The message was still burned into her mind, she could see it in her meditation. Ponder it within her perfect memory, question how this trap could and would play out.

For it could only be a trap.

In all likelihood, her quarry would not be there when she arrived, but it was closer than samara had been in decades. She was sure she would arrive earlier than her target had intended, she would spring the trap early whether it was ready or not.

She just might catch her quarry after all these years, she just might finally be allowed to correct her mistake.

She could still mentally picture the message she received mere hours after arriving on Illium.

-Samara.

I can run no longer; I must speak with you.

Please come to me, I will explain everything.

On Omega in the Gozu district, ask for Mordin Solus.

I would seek your mercy.

Mother, please.

I must find peace.

-Mirala.

This could only be a trap. It had to be, nothing else made sense. But deep in a mother's heart a small spark of hope flared, a spark that refused to die no matter how hard she beat at it. All who passed the compartment would see an ancient Asari seemingly at peace in her meditation.

Only Samara knew the truth of things.

She was in anguish.


Authors Note: Special thanks to slipspace149, just a Crazy-Man, Cooldude101011, Specialone78, I had a lot of people asking when I would be back into writing and if I would ever update my stories. These four peoples win the award of being the most stubborn, most constant, most annoying, and the most encouraging. They were very determined to push me forward when life continues to encourage me to quit and focus my time and efforts on other things.

This chapter was going to be a whole lot longer, however, my muse is, (and has been for some time), in an active state of rebellion and wants me to focus elsewhere at the moment. I had to actually cut half of the chapter away due to not being able to make it work properly in the story flow, (Frustrated screaming intensifies), I decided to post what I have and just get the momentum moving again. Expect to see more of BT-7274 and Shepard and the Normandy SR2 in the next chapter!