Commander Jonathan Titus's Story

>.>

I'm on the wrong ship, again.

I really wouldn't do that, Lance.

Commander Jonathan Titus splits!

Braden twirled his fork in the small scoop of pasta linguini on his tray. The biotic was starving, but he and Lizzie had made plans for dinner earlier that day, and he didn't want to spoil his appetite, if food was the kind of dinner date she had in mind. Instead of filling himself up on the mess hall chow, he stuck to eating just enough to keep the headaches and dizziness at bay. It had been a long time now his diet with the Ascension Project, where all of the students had received strictly controlled meals consisting of nearly 2,000 calories each. The expensive provisionary diets were required if one were to exercise their biotic potential. Throughout the sparring match with Villayn, Braden had used his biotics in small doses, but had also refused to take any breathers. Combine the abnormal exertion of energy with a lack of a healthy breakfast and lunch, and the boy was flat out exhausted.

Villayn had been busy going on and on about interesting war stories, talking about his years as both a soldier and then as a pirate. His lieutenants, Arkan and Darak, chimed in with their own dramatic retellings and Braden found himself more intrigued by the minute. Rather than staring back with glazed over eyes, he was actually asking questions, like "What happened next?" and "What does that mean?".

The story telling continued on for nearly half an hour before a tall figure joined the group and sat down right next to Braden. The teen hardly recognized Lance until he fully turned his head to look up at the grease-covered battery operator, who was currently eye-balling Villayn with little emotion.

"Operative Williams, am I right?" Villayn asked, though with an air of caution in his voice.

"That's right," Lance replied. "Just finished up some heavy maintenance on the Thannix. I didn't realize one of the gold coils came loose when we used it against your ship."

Dead silence fell over the table. Braden received a distinct feeling of discomfort and wanted to slug the man in the shoulder for being so callous; yet, Lance's surprising comment had taken him by such surprise, the boy hardly knew how to react.

"My, my," the turian captain replied without a hint of emotional reaction, "I hope it was nothing too serious. I'd hate for carelessness to be the demise of us all."

Lance smirked and then glanced down at Braden. "These guys aren't troubling you, are they, little man?" The kind, gentle face he had on while looking down at the young human was completely different the look of unsavory disdain he had expressed towards the turians only seconds earlier.

"Uhm...," was all Braden could manage before the familiar, authoritative voice of Commander Titus bellowed from across the mess hall.

"Lance! Come on over here and sit with the rest of us! Keown's got a sick joke you have to hear!"

Lance ignored the request and kept looking into the teen's eyes. Braden felt a lump in his throat and his hands began to clench each other under the table. He knew he wasn't in trouble, or doing anything wrong, but the way Lance was boring into him with only a brutally invasive stare made it seem like he was.

"Williams!" The voice belonged to Operative Taylor and was far more demanding in nature.

The big man huffed before standing up from the seat and furiously grabbing his tray from the table. As he turned to head back and sit with the other officers, Braden leaned over and whispered to the turians, "Sorry. He's kind of-"

"You don't have to explain," Darak said, stopping Braden. "Trust us... we know."




After the awkward final moments in the mess hall, Braden turned in his tray and headed toward the quarters. He figured that Lizzie might wait for him in his room, or outside his door if she wanted to find him easily. There weren't many places aboard the Vindicator that the two hung out at. They were far too young to be given tasking that required muscle or technical knowhow, and the lounge was off-limits per Titus due to the alcohol; not that Braden really cared anyway, considering he had no interest in drinking something that tasted so vial to him. The CIC used to offer a mild form of amusement to walk through - watching operatives and navigators hard at work at their control terminals, or running around and barking orders during exercises or real-time events - but even the energetic command deck had lost its spark. Now, the two spent most of their time in each other’s' rooms; playing games, surfing the extranet for holovids, or even practicing their... relationship.

Once again, the hormonal teenager found his mind slipping into the proverbial gutter. He could no longer dismiss what they had as a simple flare. It very well could be the simple fact that she was the only female around his age on the ship, but even so... his attraction to her was undeniable. He wouldn't settle for any other girl, not after knowing Lizzie.

At first, he thought her voice echoing down the hall behind him was a figment of his imagination, but the second time his name was called; he forced himself to glance around. Lizzie was poking her head just around the corner at the end of the corridor, signaling with one finger for him to follow. She didn't have to ask twice...




His steely eyes stuck to the holographic image of the ancient device like glue as it twirled above the black, polished tiles before him. It wasn’t until a trickle of smoke from the lit cigarette in his fingers glided into his line of sight that the Illusive Man finally pulled himself out of his fascination. The object was old, far older than any of the sentient species in the galaxy today; maybe as old as the Protheans, but that’s what his concern was. The device had been oddly positioned in the middle of a Prothean tell – a city so old that it had the remnants of cities below it – and where most Prothean technology was now inactive and decayed beyond repair, this particular machine wasn’t. Any archeologist that dismissed the Reapers as myth would jump at the chance to study this “Prothean” artifact up close; but the Illusive Man knew better. It was obvious to him what it was, unmistakable.

The machine wasn’t like the monoliths he had encountered in his past; it was much larger, and instead of a spike-like shape, it had taken the form of four tall braces supporting a large, blue sphere. The sphere itself seemed to be nothing but powerful, kinetic energy; like the kind one would witness enveloping an element zero drive core. The design of the supports was definitely not Prothean, black and misshapen, compared to the more regal and elegant architecture of the dead race.

“Orders, sir?” asked the man behind him, projected by the pad of the Illusive Man’s communicator. He was an operative working inside one of Cerberus’ many command centers throughout the galaxy. He stood with hands behind his back and his feet slightly spread, appearing disciplined and ready to carry out any task his employer had for him.

The Illusive Man slowly turned his chair around, away from the hologram of the device, and lowered his cigarette over his ash tray to flick off the build-up on the end of the stick. “Dispatch the Vindicator and the Call of the Victory to Lucr’n. Once on the surface, they’ll need to exercise extreme caution, especially when they approach the dig site. How many reports have we intercepted pertaining to sudden disappearances amongst the archeologists?”

“Dr. Kelton, the team’s director, has received reports of at least thirteen missing persons. He’s becoming paranoid and has withdrawn all of the scientists from the dig site. Their base camp is located approximately one klick south of the artifact. Since their withdrawal, no one seems to have gone missing, or is showing signs of indoctrination. Of course… Dr. Kelton wouldn’t know of indoctrination, so… our intelligence analysts suggest precautionary measures should be taken around them, regardless.”

The Man took a quick drag of his cigarette and rested his arm back down before saying, “Titus and Invaru only to obtain one Husk. I don’t image it being too difficult for them… as long as they keep their distance from the artifact and also ensure they’re not within the vicinity of its effect for too long.”

“And after they’ve succeeded? What should we do about the device?”

“Until we know about the process of indoctrination and develop a successful counter measure, I’m not willing to risk lives to study it, nor destroy it. Remove the archeologists and have the entire Prothean city cordoned off.”

“Yes, sir,” the operative said before the transmission was cut.

The Illusive Man turned back around to face the hologram, and took a deeper drag of his cigarette. He allowed his mind to fall back into the thought pattern of fascination and intrigue. The technology the Reapers possessed was evidently beyond all modern comprehension; but it was still a device that was created, not simply begotten – that much was clear. If he could find a way to recreate the technology of the Reapers, perhaps this war could take a turn for the better. Perhaps humanity would finally acquire the tools they need to dominate the stars.

As he sat in the violet light of the dying star outside the grand view port of his office, the words of Clark’s Third Law echo in the back of his mind: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”

The arching spikes of discharging dark energy around the Vindicator's element zero core was tantalizing to the eyes. Being a biotic, Braden felt nearly renewed being so close to a massive sphere containing the same energy he could manipulate with his mind. The eezo core had a relaxing effect on his mind, despite the lack of nutrition. Lizzie, who had her head leaned back against his chest, with the two of them sitting on the floor of the core's surrounding deck against a bulkhead, had brought them some food from the mess hall to munch on. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep the boy going for a while longer.

Both of the teenagers had spent the last hour with each other, in the exact same spot. The engineers hadn't objected once to their presence, and Braden assumed that was Lizzie's doing. He figured she must have convinced them sometime earlier in the day that they wouldn't get in the way. As Lizzie slumbered against him, his mind began to recall the events of the past day. Waking up and feeling hateful animosity towards Cerberus, finding comfort in the arms of the girl he loved, releasing the hate still inside him through Villayn's training, and finding peace once again with Lizzie. He still felt angry at the people he was working with, and he knew that only time would tell if he could truly trust Commander Titus and Yeoman Brown.




"Darcy, what the hell is up with the beret?" Titus demanded with an amused smirk as he approached the helm of the Vindicator. His pilot was wearing a black beret, perfectly formed over his right ear. Judging by the fact that the wool was smooth and shaven, Darcy must have had it for quite some time. Though it wasn't a part of the Cerberus crewman uniform, it matched the black, white, and gray colors.

Darcy spun around in his chair and revealed a giddy smile from cheek to cheek. "Isn't it sick, Commander? A few marines on deck five found them in starboard cargo, we must have accidentally picked up the shipment at our last resupply stop. Terminus depots aren't always the most reliable when it comes to tracking their customers' goods."

"That was three days ago," John noted, folding his arms.

"Yup. I've been shaping it in the shower every morning; finally shaved it last night and let it dry out. How does it look?"

Titus leaned back, inspecting the ridiculous hat left and right, but he honestly couldn't find much to object to. It was dorky, but sharp at the same time, and it conveyed an air professionalism about Darcy that Titus thought he would never see. Besides, the beret out-did the stupid ball caps any day of the week. After taking a moment to fully appreciate Darcy's new fashion accessory he let his arms drop and asked, "How many of those were in the shipment?"

"More than enough if you're thinking what I think you're thinking."

"Then I'll keep thinking." The commander moved around to stand beside Darcy, directly between him and EDI's ever-present sphere, and changed the subject, asking, "Is that our relay?" The mass relay Titus was referring to was growing closer as the Vindicator made its approach.

"That's it," Darcy confirmed, rapidly tapping away at his cyan-colored haptic interface. "We'll make the jump through and I'll plot us a direct course to Lucr'n. Our current ETA to target is two hours, fifteen minutes. Now EDI's already taken a look at the planet's recent geological surveys. She found a few things you might want to take note of."

On cue, the ship's AI chimed in with her report. "Lucr'n is located close enough to its system's sun to warrant the use of heat protective armor. Over the past millennia, the planet's protective atmospheric layers have deteriorated due to a build-up of greenhouse gases. This was most likely caused by a planet-wide war event during its final moments of civilization. Whatever cataclysm started the decay is no longer traceable. While your shields are strong enough to hold out against the penetrating radiation, they will be ineffective in a firefight. Mass accelerated rounds will go straight through and your hard suit's armor will have to absorb the impact alone."

"Wonderful," Titus mused. "So, what have the archeologists been using for protection?"

"Thermal resistant white suits," EDI replied. "They sacrifice armor in favor of specially designed shield boosters. The suits are also equipped with a thrust capacitor."

"A what?"

"Adding to the dangers of Lucr'n are frequent earthquakes and tectonic tremors, possibly another result of the cataclysm that ended the Prothean civilization-"

"It was the Reapers, EDI," Darcy retorted. "We all know it was the fucking Reapers."

Ignoring the helmsman's interuption, the AI carried on without any emotional inflection toward him. "Some quakes can cause large debris to break off of ruins and endanger the lives of nearby archeologists. To compensate, a back-mounted thrust capacitor provides a powerful enough boost - using a micro fission core - to propel the individual several hundred meters, safely removing them from the danger zone. It is not a 'jet pack', but a more level alternative."

Titus nodded, but rubbed his eyes. “Berets, earthquakes, and jump packs... Just get us to Lucr’n, Darcy.”

“Aye-aye, Commander.”

Titus spun around and walked back down the helm toward the CIC. As he passed through, he observed many of the CIC operators settling down in at their terminals, preparing for the eminent mission. Each of them, though they appeared to perform the same task as their neighbor, played a vital, unique role in keeping the Vindicator running and operational. Most of the technicians in the CIC were combat operations managers; relaying vital intelligence to and from the battle grounds, or assisting in space warfare. While EDI did most of the data logging and calculations, it was up her human counterparts to execute commands.

“I hope you’re ready, ladies and gents,” the commander said as he briskly made his way past them. “This mission is going to get interesting.”




“All hands, prepare for relay jump, in thirty seconds!” Engineer Sullivan announced as he practically ran at full speed from one end of the core room to the other, skipping nearly three full steps as he partially jumped up onto the main observation platform. In response, Braden and Lizzie, now fully awake and alert, jumped to their feet and made their way up to the platform for safety. Being too close to the drive core during a relay jump could be dangerous if something went wrong.

Already, the giant sphere began to pulse violently with massive arcs of discharging dark energy. “Core levels stable, eezo reaction normal,” Engineer Foster stated as she approached a wide haptic interface and began to busy herself at the controls. There was another pulse, one more massive than the others, and Braden figured that the Vindicator was now very close to the mass relay that Darcy was about to make a jump through.

There was a crackle over the core room’s intercom as Darcy’s amplified voice came over. “Relay jump commencing in three… two… one!” As soon as his tongue struck the “n” on “one”, a final pulse burst outward from the sphere. The room was blinded in a brief second of blue-white light, and Braden felt a surge of energy passing into his own body; a vibration spreading throughout his nervous system. His head went light, and the room started to spin. Though the light was now dissipating, nearly gone, so was his vision. During the final few seconds before total darkness, he felt his legs give out, and he saw the ceiling of the core room high above him come into view, and heard the muffled voices of his friends call out to him.

“Braden? Braden?!”

"Ready for touch down," the Kodiak pilot stated over the intercom in the passenger hold. "Three... two... one." Titus felt the familiar bump of a landing and the hatch rasied open, blinding everyone inside for a few seconds as their eyes adjusted to the blazing sun of Lucr'n. More untraviolet rays than a garden planet should have broke through a weak atmosphere. In order to protect themselves, everyone had darkened their visors, hiding their eyes from the harmful light. Titus now had a breather attached to the bottom of his Kestrel visor, where his mouth and chin would otherwise be exposed under normal circumstances. Oxygen on the planet was all but contaminated with gases, or either no longer preseant at all.

Looking around, the team gathered the surroundings of the science team's encampment. The structures were temporary domes connected by corridors, but they were built to withstand the harsh conditions of Lucr'n and were, no doubt, EM hardened in order to protect the vital electrical and communication equipment inside. After Lance, Keown, and Captain Villayn and his turian lieutenants stepped out, the Kodiak took off and headed for a location just outside the encampment to await egress orders.

Presumably one of the scientists, wearing the white suit that EDI had talked about, came running out of the nearest shelter immediately to greet them. "Commander Titus?" a female voice asked through the visor's external speaker.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dr. Franchesca Naomilla." The two briefly shook hands. "I wish we could have reached your other teams, but they're already in the field. I believe they're waiting on you to move in as well before you conduct your investigation. Look, your men won't last very long out there wearing what they're wearing." She pointed to Titus' suit and then to the Cerberus assault armor of Keown and Lance. She also glanced back at the turians and their own combat armor."

Titus raised a hand and said, "Don't worry, doc. Our intelligence told us of Lucr'n's conditions. I chose only the best, and only the ones most capable of operating in extreme climates. Our shields may suffer, but the armor can take a beating any day of the week."

Despite the man's confident rebuttal, Dr. Naomilla only shook her head and gestured for the Cerberus team to follow her inside the shelter. "Come with me," she said. "I refuse to let you go out there without one of these."




It took a minute or two for Titus to remove the Kestrel armor and replace it with what Dr. Naomilla had referred to as the Augmented Reaction Suit. According to her, it was developed in Japan and based of an age old video game model. Though they couldn't replicate the "time bending" capabilities of the late video game's suit, they replaced that fictional function with something more practical and achievable: a fission powered jump pack. "Luckily we have a multi-species team of humans, asari, and turians," Naomilla said, handing Captain Villayn an ARS helmet. The three turians had chosen to exchange their own suits for the ARS, but Lance and Keown opted to have only the fission packs attacked to the back of their Cerberus assault armor, preferring to keep the heavy plating for when they encountered husks at close range. Kinetic barriers do nothing to protect against melee attacks or point blank gunfire.

Titus attached the helmet and stepped into the latrine to gaze at himself in the mirror. The armor was less bulky than the Kestrel. Though it lacked in armor in comparisson, if what the doctor said was true, the kinetic barrier technology was the most advanced around and would be able to withstand the electromagnetic interference of Lucr'n. As EDI had stated, the armor was nearly all white, save the black squish suit underneath. The visor was currently open, retracted back around Titus' head, exposing his face and some of his hair above his forehead. He tapped a small button on the side of the neck and the visor jutted forward, wrapped around the top of his head and lower chin first, and then covering the rest with a dark visor that dropped down.

"Ready, Commander?" he heard Keown ask outside. Titus turned to see the man standing at the door to the latrine, ready for combat with the buttstock of his Avenger resting in the cradle of his arm, pointing toward the ceiling. His armorer always had a bring-it-on kind of stance when geared up for a mission.

"Let's go," he replied. "Time to grab us a husk."




Lucr'n was more than a wasteland, it was the result of a ravaging carnage that happened fifty thousand years ago. Where they were now was probably one of the most populated cities on the Prothean world. According to what EDI had told them, it was also constructed on top of older cities, ruins that may have even survived the Reaper assault. There was no telling what was down there, and perhaps that's why the archeologists were here to begin with. Their research priorities no doubt changed upon the discovery of the Reaper (or "Prothean") artifact in the city's center.

"Commander," the voice of the Kodiak's pilot said over the comm. There was moderate interference in the transmission, probably caused by the EM radiation, "if you're going to stay in touch with the Vindicator, you'll have reroute transmission through me. The Kodiak's own comm arrays will be strong enough to reach the CIC, but only if you stay topside. So no exploring, okay?"

"Copy that," Titus said.

The rest of the hike was mostly bland. Historians probably wet themselves over the sights Titus was surrouding himself with, but he honestly had no interest in any of it at the moment. If he were here on a science expedition it would be different. However, he was having to climb and vault over the debris left behind by the Reaper invasion. Prothean architecture that once graced the garden world Lucr'n had been, was no lying in heaps across the footpaths, covered in dust and stained by centuries of harmful sun light. Every few seconds a powerful gust would cause Titus and his team to activate the magnetic seals on their boots - if they were even standing atop some kind of centuries-old metal alloy that would sustain them; if not, they would have duck low and hang on to whatever they could find. Then there were the tremors. So far, they weren't anywhere near a 10.0 readout, but they were enough to cause even the most acrobatic man to loose his balance.

"Titus," EDI said through the Kodiak's comm connection, "the Victory fireteams and your own are all converging on the center plaza. After further scans, I've detected that the artifact is very large and emitting an emetting a high energy ouput. I recommend caution around the device and that you limit your time in the location to stave off the effects of indoctrination."

"No need to worry about us, EDI," Lance replied, as the whole team could listen in on the communications. "We can handle a few creepy voices."

"Hostile, spotted!" Darak shouted over the net. "One hundred meters, eleven o'clock."

All of them aimed their weapons in the direction of Darak's Mantis sniper rifle. Sure enough, a Husk was bumbling around the broken support beam of a once mighty sky scraper. It appeared to be alone, no other of its kind in the vacinity. Titus smiled to himself under the ARS visor, thinking that this mission was now all too easy. It wasn't a smile of satisfaction, however; it was the smile of knowing a challenge when he saw one. One Husk, by its lonesome, easily spotted? The trap was obvious. Husks may be stupid, senseless, but they all knew who they were controlled by.

"Villayn," Titus began, "take your team and dig in up there." He pointed up high to the ruins of a small building that provided excellent an excellent sniping position. "I'll take my guys and head down closer to the Husk." He then turned to Keown and Lance. "Stay close to me. If there's more of them, I don't want anyone caught in an ambush alone."

After receiving their orders, the fire teams split up and branced out. By the time Titus' team reached cover only a ten meters away from the lone Husk, the turians had reached their sniping position. Villayn had come over the comm next. "Commander; Villayn. I'm seeing what looks like the artifact EDI was talking about. It's only fifty meters ahead you, beyond those ruins. I've got a clear view of... what the? Titus, there's more of them, and they're all massed around that damn thing. Including the one you're about grab, I'm counting thirteen - the same number as Dr. Naomilla's missing archeologists."

"Well," Keown whispered, "now that we know for sure what happened them, how are we going to explain that to the doc? I'm not sure she's going to take well to the fact that her team members had been 'indoctrinated' by mythological machines and turned into mindless, bio-cybernetic puppets."

Titus only glared back at him through the visor, though slightly amused. "One thing at a time, okay? Let's just focus on grabbing that husk."

The three cautiosly moved out of the cover when the Husk turned its back to them. Lance was leading the group, being the strongest, and would try and grapple onto the hideous mutant from behind. Titus and Keown slowly flanked him, moving out in either direction in a semi-circle and keeping their weapons trained on the target. When Lance was only a foot away from lunging at it, the worst happened...

"Tremor!" Arkan's voice was barely heard over the rumble of earth beneath them and the creaking and moanings of the surroudings ruins. Lance lost his balance and fell backward, and Keown had squeezed on the trigger of his Avenger, sending a mass accelerated round into the Husk's gray skull before it could attack his downed partner now that it had been fully aware of their presence.

"Shit! Target lost! I say, again, target lost!" Titus yelled over the net. The earthquake was still going, however, and the three of them stumbled around and tried to find something to hang onto.

"Titus!" Villayn yelled. "Those Husks at the artifact: they look pissed! I think they know you're here and they're running in your direction. I'm also hearing gunfire in the distance. I think its coming from the Victory teams, but I can't be sure. Get the hell outta there! Now!"

The Commander gestured for Lance and Keown to follow suit as he darted back toward the way the came, but slid to a halt when the sight of more Husks came out of the ruined structure adjacent to the route's opening. "What the fuck?! Where'd these guys come from?!"

"I guess Dr. Naomilla's team aren't the first ones to dig this site!" Keown exclaimed. "Come on, we need to move the other way."

"Commander, there's a scafolding that has been constructed by the science team above the artifact," Darak explained. "You can use the high ground to your advantage against the Husks if you can get around them."

There was no need for futher explanation as Titus and his men were already sprinting at full speed through the ruins. The earthquake made it difficult to keep a solid pace and balance as they ran, but for the most part, the footpaths remained clear... until a chunk of debris fell right in front of them by about twenty yards. Titus glanced back just long enough to confirm that the Husks were still on their tail; and sure enough, he saw the hord of mindless, angry imbiciles galloping after them. Their pale gray-blue arms were swinging left and right, and their mouths were stuck open, moaning and screeching at them. Their glowing blue eyes seemed to pierce through John's blackened visor, and it felt like the Reapers could see could his every movement through them. The scariest thing was that they probably could.

"The Illusive Man better know what he's doing!" Titus yelled to no one in particular as he brought up his Omni tool and tapped the command button that had been linked to the ARS's jump pack. He heard only a second of a humming tone behind him before his entire body felt the thrust of the fission engine mounted inside the back of the armor. He could see the blue shimmer of a mass effect field materializing directly in front of him to protect him against the powerful G-forces as his body accelerated into the air, straight over the fallen rubble. He glanced briefly to his sides to see that Lance and Keown had safely made it over with him.

"That chuck of scrap will slow 'em down enough to buy us time to get to the scafolding," Keown stated, and they took off to complete their dash to the artifact.

When they arrived, the machine was nothing like either of them had ever before seen. The construct was definitely Reaper design, not Prothean, but that's not what had amazed Titus. Four tall braces supported a giant sphere of electrical energy, pulsing with arces of electricity all around it. It was nearly twenty meters tall, and twenty meters in diameter. The scafolding that been placed there by the science teams was supported between two tall structures, originally built by the Protheans. It began to make a bridge from one structure to the other, but when either side reached the sphere, the scafolding broke off in either direction, wrapping around the top of the sphere to complete a full circle before connecting with the scafolding on the other side. The round-about walkway was meant to observe the object from five meters above at several different angles, looking down.

"Here they come," Lance said, readying his Avenger and taking aim at the approaching hord of Husks. "They're going to try and make it up here with us. There are only two ways they can do that: the stair case we came up over here, or," he nodded his head toward the opposite structure, where the far end of the observation bridge was connected, "the staircase over there."

"Stay here and cover this point," Titus ordered. "Keown, take the other end. I'll use the Excalibur's rifle mode and take center to cover you both." With that, they split up. Lance remained where he was, taking cover behind a crate of supplies left behind by the research teams, and opened fire when the Husks came close to the first step. Where Titus stopped at the center of the round-about observation bridge, Keown ran past to the other staircase. The commander unclipped the Excalibur heavy pistols from their magnetic clips on his legs and attached them together, end-to-end, to forge the powerful sniper rifle they could become. He then used his Omni tool to quickly syncronize the weapon system to his new ASR visor. It took about thirty seconds to properly callibrate the targeting reticules, but once he got it, he braced himself forward against the railing and lined up a perfect shot with one of the husks making his way up to Keown. After squeezing the trigger, a round caused its head to explode against the wall to the Prothean structure. "Suck it," he mused.

"Titus? Commander Titus?" Dr. Naomilla's voice asked in a panic over the net. "Oh, God, I hope you can read me! I don't know what's going on out there, but we're being attacked! These... these monsters are just coming out of nowhere! They've breached the entrances to our structures and are brutalizing my friends! They're killing them! I don't know what these are! Some look human, others turian... I don't know! Please! Help us!"

"Doc?! Doctor Naomilla!?" Titus tried to summon her back over the net, but he was only answered by static. "Ground team to Kodiak."

"Go, sir."

"What's your status? Are you secure?"

"All's well over here, Commander. You ready for pick-up?"

"Not yet. We haven't acquired an asset. Instead, I need you to relay a message to the Vindicator, and have them relay the same message to the Victory. If they can spare the time, those scientists need our help. Operative Invaru has the option of either rerouting her teams to the science division's encampment, or she can have them press on and help us here. But those people need help, and fast!"

"Aye-aye, sir. EDI's got the message, she's sending it now."

Lieutenant Harrens’ decision to try and draw some of the pressure away from Titus’ own team only helped for a few moments. The husk numbers were simply too great and cutting them down seemed to do nothing. When the Victory team used their jump packs to land atop a ruined structure, the husks left on the ground turned to resume their assault on Titus, despite several attempting to follow the escapees by scaling the building’s walls.

“Commander!” Lance called out, loading a fresh thermal clip into his M-8 Avenger. “We can’t keep this up! I’m running low on ammo; and they just keep coming!”

Villayn’s voice came over the comm next, with more bad news. “I’m afraid Operative Williams is right, Titus. Our sniper rounds are rapidly depleting, and these things are trying to make their way to us. It won’t be long before they get smart and come up on our flank. We need to exfil.”

Titus nodded in agreement, though he doubted anyone of his teammates saw the gesture of accord in the middle of the shit storm they had gotten themselves into. He opened up a direct line to the Kodiak. “Ground team to Kodiak.”

“Go.”

“Send a message to the Vindicator. Tell Darcy I want his ass in the atmosphere, ASAP. This artifact is too dangerous to be left intact. If the boss wants a husk, he can have a pile of them… dead. Also, Lieutenant Harrins and Captain Villayn are split up from us. Egress them first, then have Darcy send another Kodiak to pick up my team. How copy?”

“I copy that, Commander. They’ve got the message, Helmsman Mansfield is bringing the Vindicator into suborbital altitude now and I’m oscar-mike to the LT’s location. ETA: one mike.”

Titus repositioned himself against the railing and opened up a hail of fire against any husk that crossed into his scope. He shouted orders for Lance and Erik to hold their positions and keep firing. The seconds ticked by, John counting every one of them as he fired, chambered, and fired again. Finally, when things seemed grim, he saw the Kodiak that had brought them in arrive in time to pick Lt. Harrens’ team up off the rooftop, hovering just a few feet away with the passenger bay door open for them to jump inside. When the team was loaded, it dipped down to Villayn’s sniper nest, allowing the three turians to cram inside with their colleagues from the Victory with only seconds to spare of husks overwhelming their position.

Now we just need to hold off a minute longer, Titus thought. He only hoped that minute would be a second, picturing Darcy’s bringing the Vindicator through the cloud cover and reigning down a firestorm barrage of air-to-surface missiles. Before he could finish the hopeful thoughts, however, another earthquake rumbled beneath them. This time, a chunk of debris from the structure supporting Keown’s end gave away and crashed into the scaffolding. It destroyed the staircase, preventing the husks from advancing on his end, and the operative nearly escaped being crushed himself. But when Titus ran over to help his comrade to his feet, the worst happened. The observation bridge began to give away from the impact of the debris, and Erik found himself tumbling toward the center.

“Erik!” Titus yelled as he tossed his Excalibur to Lance and dived on his stomach to try and catch his friend’s hand before he fell completely over, towards the artifact in the center. His palm and fingers grabbed onto Keown’s wrist at the last second, but he was forced to use his free hand and claw into the grating of the catwalk, lest he pulled over by the weight of Keown’s heavy Cerberus armor. His arm was straining and his wrist was screaming to let go, but the commander held on.

“John! Dammit! Let me go! You don’t have time to waste by trying to pull me up! Go help-”

“You don’t give me orders, dammit!” Titus yelled back. “Now don’t you fucking let go! Pull yourself up here! Now!”

“I can’t… You know that. I’m too heavy in this shit. If I use both arms, I’ll just bring you down with me.”

“Erik! Shut up!”

“Tell the Illusive Man… that since he wanted a husk so bad… I volunteered myself.

“No! You son of a-” But it was too late to convince him otherwise. Operative Erik Keown let go of his commander’s wrist and forced his own out of Titus’ grip. His body plummeted and punched through the energy sphere atop the four Reaper supports. Time seemed to slow as John watched his friend fall all the way through, rattled by arcs of electricity and energy spikes until he exited through the bottom of the sphere and continued to fall until he crashed on the dusty surface below. “Aaaagggghhh!”

Titus brought himself completely over onto the catwalk and pushed himself up. He took several deep breaths and took a second to absorb what had just happened. It wasn’t the first time as a soldier that he had witness a man give his life for a cause; and so he knew exactly what to do. A life given out of noble pursuit must not be taken for granted, not simply dismissed or only wept for. Titus raised his head, straightened his back, and rolled his shoulders. He turned around sharply and picked up the Excalibur rifle from Lance, who was continuing to mow down husks charging after him with tears rolling down both cheeks. He had seen what had happened… what Erik chose to do; and he was venting by unloading every thermal clip he had left onto the sorry, forgotten slaves.

[Begin playing soundtrack, "Embolden"]

Disengaging the rifle mode, John separated the Excalibur pistols and rearmed them with new thermal clips. Out of daring rage and a need to avenge Erik’s death, to honor his sacrifice, the Commander, flanked by Operative Williams, charged down the staircase, unloading round after round into the husks. Barrels collided with faces, and rocketing rounds pulverized those faces. Every cybernetic freak of nature that came too close to the duo fell to their fury.

The engines of a Kodiak roared overhead and Titus’ eyes glanced up only long enough to look past it at towards the Vindicator breaking through the cloud cover. Darcy was already giving orders to unload the much-needed rocket barrage. All the commander had to do now was retrieve Erik’s body from underneath the artifact’s sphere before the Vindicator’s hell storm destroyed it and buried the fallen hero.

“Lance: Kodiak. Move!”

“Aye-Aye! I’ll see you aboard!”

As Williams took off sprinting for the landing Kodiak, Titus spun around and aimed his torso toward the artifact’s base. He punched the activation for the ARS’ fission pack and rocketed at high velocity toward his target. A husk had managed to break into his flight path and Titus took aim with one of the Excalibur pistols, driving the barrel into the mutant’s screaming mouth. The neck snapped back under the speed, effectively “killing” it, but the commander pulled the trigger anyway, exploding the husk’s cranium with an overkill shot.

When he landed, Titus rolled for several feet; finally stopping to a skidding halt before Keown’s lifeless corpse. In order to carry the man, Titus had to field-strip the Cerberus armor off of him. The visor came first, and John could see the man’s already pale-skin; unusual, but no doubt a side-effect of the artifact’s sphere. The chest plate, shoulder pads, gauntlets, and leggings came after. It was a hassle, constantly having to left and heave Erik’s body in order to get to every release latch; but when everything had finally come off, Titus lifted his friend into a fireman’s carry over his shoulders and ran as fast as he could.

Thankfully, the Kodiak’s pilot had repositioned closer to the artifact, though safely away from the sphere’s energy output. The passenger hatch flew open and Keown jumped out to assist his commander in helping to carry Keown’s body inside. Two other Vindicator marines lent their support in gently bringing in their fallen comrade.

The Kodiak rapidly pulled away, just in time for the missile strike to enforce its punishment on the Prothean ruins and Reaper artifact. Because the Vindicator was in close, Darcy’s transmissions came through crystal clear.

“Bringing the pain, mother fuckers!”

Each of the flanking structures that had been used to support the observation bridge around the artifact crumbled inward, landing on top of the device and effectively destroying it once and for all. As Titus watched the devastation unfold beneath them as the Kodiak approached closer to the open landing bay of his ship, he heard a sharp ringing in both ears, and his head spun. A gravel voice in the back of his mind, one that spoke with authority and determination, was none like he had heard before. Unrecognizable, but worthy of his attention.

You cannot stop us, human. This war you wage is a pathetic and futile attempt at escaping what is destined to come.






Braden… Braden… Come on, sweetie. Time to get up.

The young Reynolds awoke in one of the medical bay’s recovery beds in a sweat, gasping for air. He through the covers back, attempting to cool his half naked body down as quickly as possible before it went up in flames. Every muscle cried out in pain, and he only ended up falling back on the sweat-soaked pillow and bed sheets. As he lay there, starring up into the light above him, he kept thinking of the woman’s voice he heard in his dreams before waking. It was familiar, comforting, loving.

“Mom?” his hopeful voice cracked.

Fast approaching, but light footsteps could be heard approaching him from the side, and another familiar voice pierced the silence of the ward. “No, honey; I’m afraid not,” answered Dr. Porter as she came into view of Braden’s peripherals. Her head bobbed above him as she checked his vitals on her Omni tool. When she done, she gently slid a cool hand underneath Braden’s neck and then worked her way up to the back of his head, slowly lifting it to remove the old pillow and replace it with a fresh, dry one.

“You’ve been out for several hours,” she said. “You knew better than to go so long without a sufficient amount of food in your system. Biotics need the calories, Braden. If Tony hadn’t have raced your unconscious body up here as fast as he did, you could have slipped into a coma. We don’t need two heroes hanging between life and death, now do we?”

Braden couldn’t bear to look at her. The why she was scolding him, upset but loving, reminded him too much of his own mother. He messed up, but Veronica was there to take care of him, a sick child in need. He actually felt… “Sorry…”

Veronica folded her arms, but offered a warm smile. She walked around the bed to check up on a monitor and said, “No need to be all blue about it. Your girlfriend told me the whole story. Personally, I think it was romantic how you held out for her; but professionally, I’d say you were an idiot.” She chuckled when she said this, finding the conclusive judgment to be quite amusing now that the boy was going to be okay. “We had to stick you with a few IVs, to rehydrate you and get enough nutrition in your system to keep you going. I’m sure you’re starving though, so I’ll have a tray brought in from the mess hall. Mess Sergeant Miles is already preparing something special for you. Oh, and, sorry about the clothing situation. Your body was reacting to the lack of sustenance by creating a fever; that’s why you’re sweating and dehydrated. I’ve got your shirt, jeans, and boots over there on the chair.” She pointed to the white and chrome chair adjacent to his recovery bed. Braden recognized it as the exact same chair he sat in while Vala Buchan was recovering after saving his life on Illium.

“If Lizzie comes in to see you, make sure to keep the covers pulled over.” Veronica winked before turning away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check up on Operative Buchan.”

“Vala’s here?” Braden asked. He turned his head over to see the woman sleeping peacefully – as ironic as that seems – in another recovery bed at the end of the bay.

“Yes,” the doc replied. “She just underwent surgery to have her biotic implants upgraded to the new L5x. She’s like you now.”

Veronica continued on down the bay to check on Vala’s readings. Braden could only watch the blonde woman sleep soundly and wonder why in the galaxy she would put herself through the immense risk of doing such a thing. Braden’s own implantation surgery was risky enough, and that’s when he was at the age it was supposed to be done. At Vala’s age, such a procedure could be life-threatening if not handled right. He had been outfitted with the Ascension Project's experimental L4 implants when he had been taken into the care of the academy. His upgrade to the L5x didn't happen until a year later when he was selected to be apart of the Eden Prime training. The surgery left him sore for weeks, and he would often suffer from mind-splitting headaches. He wondered if Vala was going to have to endure the same effects.

"Okay, so... not a bad first date," Lizzie said, startling Braden so much he nearly jumped out of the covers. The teens locked eyes for a moment and started to laugh. Lizzie pulled the chair over to the edge of the bed and sat down, holding Braden's left hand under both of hers. "You scared me down there," she said after a while, unable to look him in the eye. When she finally looked up, she had tears in her eyes. "Don't ever do that again."

"Liz, I-" Before he could finish, she stood up and leaned over him, meeting her lips with his own. They remained there for well over a minute, and Braden could hear the persistent tone of his heart rate on the nearby monitor beep slightly faster. Finally, Lizzie pulled away but only enough to stare into his eyes with an inch between their noses.

The boy opened his mouth again to say something, but her finger pressed down ontop of them. "Wait," she whispered. "I'll come back after you eat." Her finger slid down from his lips, brushed down his chin, and dropped to his exposed upper chest. Before pulling away, she gave him a light peck on his forehead.

Dr. Porter returned and placed a bottle of water on the folder-over table attached to his recovery bed and courteously unscrewed the cap. "She's a keeper," she mused at the expense of a red-faced Braden. She turned away and headed back to her desk near the front of the bay, taking her seat a second later to begin to tapping away at her haptic keyboard. As she worked, the boy took small, but greedy gulps of the water. He wasn't sure why, but there was something in the air that didn't quite feel right.

"Where's the commander?" he asked. Veronica's typing came to a dead stop, but she only stared straight forward, completely quiet. "What's wrong? Did... something happen?"

Dr. Porter finally turned to look at him with an expressionless face. "He's... down in the Kodiak bay," she said. "Operative Keown..." She only sighed, unable to finish what Braden already knew. The teenager threw the covers off and over the side of the bed, fighting the protest of his sore and cramped muscles as his legs hung over the edge. "Braden! No! You can't be moving around just yet!" Veronica jumped up from her seat and raced over to stop him, but Braden held up his hand as he slid off the matress and reached for his clothes.

"No," he insisted, "don't."

If he were any younger, or less assertive, Dr. Porter probably would have restrained him to the bed, but he had made his intentions crystal clear. There was no stopping him. He struggled to pull on the jeans and shirt, but didn't bother with the boots. The floors of the Vindicator were cold, but flat and clear, and would only offer some relief to his body's fever if he went barefoot. The first few steps were a rush to the head, but he quickly gained his balance as he made his way closer and faster to the door.

Finally, leaning the against the threshold, Braden swiped his hand in front of the access panel and turned back to look at Veronica and say, "Don't worry about me. I'll be back; I promise."




Braden quietly stumbled out of the lift and into the Vindicator’s Kodiak bay. No one had heard the blast doors hissing as he stepped out, or they at least paid no attention to him. As the boy looked around, he saw what must of the been the Vindicator’s entire crew, all gathered and standing in two impressive military formations of several ranks. Each Cerberus crewman was standing with feed shoulder-width apart, and their hands clasped into a V in the small of their backs. Parade rest, they called it.

The room was quiet, save for an echoing tapping sound somewhere near the front of the formations. Braden snuck around behind several supply crates and mechanical units. When he finally found a perfect view of the front of the formation he saw Commander Titus standing at the head of another smaller formation. Four men and two women, dressed in the black and white dress uniform of Cerberus’ higher ranking officers were unfolding a blue and white fabric between the six of them. Gently they lowered their arms, but kept their backs straight, and allowed the cloth to rest on top of an object between them; three of them on one side, three on the other side. A whispered command was given by one of them, but Braden was unsure who it was, and the six instantly snapped to face the rest of their shipmates. Another command was given, and Braden noticed this time that it was one of the men in the rear of the six. In response, all of them marched through the center of the formations. As the heels of their boots met the metallic surface of the Kodiak bay, the tapping sound from earlier was revealed, as was their role.

Those six were the Vindicator’s honor guard; and they had just unfolding and rested a blue and white flag atop of a fallen soldier’s casket. To whom the casket belonged was no mystery. Dr. Porter had already given Braden the answer up in the medical bay. Though he could not see the flag’s emblem, he recognized the colors. His time aboard the Jon Grissam space station while, attending the Ascension Project as a biotic student, allowed him to become familiar with the Alliance.

How Operative Keown died, Braden did not know. But what was clear to him now was that he must have been a former member of the Alliance Navy; and Commander Titus was giving him the honor worthy of a soldier that had made the ultimate sacrifice. The commander himself seemed grimmer than the rest of his shipmates. His eyes were downcast, full of sorrow and guilt. The young teenager had spent enough of his life feeling the same emotions that it was easy for him to tell when others were experiencing them.

“Erik Keown,” the commander said aloud, lifting his head to face his crew. “A man. A soldier. A friend. He sacrificed himself so that we may continue to fight for our survival; for our freedom. I knew Erik; and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“It pains me that I must return an empty casket to his family; and even more so that I cannot tell them why. Because of the importance of our mission, and the oath we have sworn to secrecy, I cannot explain to them that Erik Keown’s body is slowly becoming a tool for our enemy to use. But I can tell them this: that his sacrifice will not have been made in vain. Cerberus will avenge Erik Keown; and the Reapers… they will pay for what they have done and what they’re doing.

“But we have a mission. And we all knew the risks of this mission. So did Operative Keown. So if we’re going to bring humanity’s wrath to our enemies, then we must first annihilate their Collector servants. So if you want revenge as much as I want it right now… then set your cross hairs on them. The crew of the SIC Titan, Erik Keown, and all of the innocent humans that have been taken from their homes – the women, children, infants – deserve to be avenged.

“So we carry on; and we’ll wait for the right moment to hit them with everything we’ve got. And when we do… we’ll make them hurt so much that their masters will feel it all the way out in dark space.”

There was silence in the room once again, and the Vindicator’s commander snapped to the position of attention with arms straight down to his sides. He held his chin high and in a one, loud command, yelled, “ATTENTION!” Upon the command, every man and woman in the formations before him snapped to the position of attention. Their boots, all in sync with one another, made a thundering echo throughout the entire bay. “CENTER! FACE!” Both of the formations snapped out a perfect facing movement, turning their bodies to face the opposite formation across the center aisle.

Braden repositioned to another end of the line of cargo crates for a better view. The tapping of the honor guards’ heels could be heard again, echoing down the aisle. When he finally found another spot, he watched as the six of them were already carrying Keown’s empty casket, still adorned with the Alliance flag, down the aisle. As it passed by the servicemen, each rank presented a very slow salute. It wasn’t fast, like a traditional salute, but the presentation of arms given to the fallen – raised six paces before the honor guard, and lowered six paces after. Gentle and humble, but honorable.

The casket was gently carried up a small ramp and into the passenger bay of an awaiting Kodiak. When the honor guard carefully lowered it onto the floor and secured the clamps that would hold the casket in place during flight, Commander Titus marched down the aisle, head held high. He continued on up the ramp until he was merely a foot away and looked down at the casket. Like the his crew behind him, the leader presented a slow salute, held it for several seconds while whispering inaudible words, and then lowered it.




“Titus,” the Illusive Man said, putting out a cigarette in his tray as the hologram of the Vindicator’s commander materialized before him on his projection pad, “I’ve just received word back from the Alliance. Keown’s belongings and casket have been safely received. No interruptions, no discrepancies. I’ve personally contacted his family, providing an explanation for what happened; however, if you still wish to send a personal message condolence yourself, I’m sure they would appreciate it.”

John nodded his head. “I was going to do that anyway, sir. It’s just… difficult, right now.”

The Illusive Man stood up from his seat and slowly walked forward to Titus’ hologram. “Take all the time you need, Commander. It might be best to let Erik’s loved ones have time to mourn first, anyway. It will only be easier for them to receive your message afterward.”

“I see.” Titus didn’t want to spend the entire conversation with his employer wallowing in sorrow; and the he was sure the Illusive Man didn’t want that either. He was still assigned to a mission, and it had to take priority, regardless of the situation. “The Vindicator is standing by for orders.”

“I'm not willing to put either you or the Call of Victory back up against the Collectors just yet; not after the hits both of you have taken. Omni Cell still needs time to recover, and besides, two of my best operatives aren’t even battle capable. Vala is still recovering from her surgery, and Jason is still in a coma. When he’ll wake up, no one knows. Thus, his second-in-command must learn how to take the reins of his ship and get used to it. She’s our contingency plan should Commander Horn fall any farther away from us.

“Instead, I’m splitting the Vindicator and the Call of Victory up again to complete some smaller assignments. While we’re analyzing Keown’s body as it progresses through the stages of becoming a husk, I want you two to focus on gathering back your strength. The Vindicator is now down a man, so I suggest you start with that. I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting a skilled combat engineer by the name of Stephen Valentine. He goes by the name "Sentry"; and will prove to be a valuable new member of your team.”

“Where do I find him?”

“He’ll be waiting for you at a refueling station in the Terminus. Go to the Chandrasekhar system; and dock at the station orbiting Hebat. Once you meet up with him, I’ll send a personal message to your terminal with your next assignment.”

Titus nodded, but before the Illusive Man cut the transmission, he held his finger over the kill button for a moment. “And Commander... you have my word that I’ll treat Erik’s body with the utmost respect.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Sweat began to bead up on his brow, the temperature in the air seeming to raise as he focused on the task that had been set before him. His breathing grew heavier, fogging his visor heavily, but he kept his concentration as best he could.

"How's it going, Valentine," a female voice asked him through the comm. link in his helmet. He chuckled nervously as he adjusted his grip on the tool in his hand.

"Well," Valentine replied, "I'm staring at enough boom to level a whole city block or more, and the stench from these Vorcha that we mowed down to get to this beauty of a deathbringer is starting to make me gag. Aside from all that, I'm splendid. How's your day going?" She chuckled a bit at that. It made him feel a little better.

"I'd be much better if we weren't on a suicide mission," she replied. "Hurry up with that thing so we can get the fuck out of here, kay?"

"Sweetheart, if I rush anything with this, we might just end up meeting Jesus today. Don't make me meet him just yet. I'm not wearing my fancy underwear."

The las thing he heard was her laughing. That's the last thing he ever heard before the bullets started flying and the snarls of more Vorcha surrounded them. And then there was the explosion...



"What can I get for you, sir?"

Sentry looked up from the bar slowly, the Asari barkeep's voice barely registering in his mind above the sound of his own thoughts. She smiled at him as pleasantly as she could, though he could see the muscles at the corners of her mouth twitching from forcing the expression. He smirked and pulled a cigarette and lighter from the button up pocket of his Cerberus Class Alpha dress uniform.

"Yeah, doll," he replied. "I'm gonna need a scotch, a cheese sandwich, and an ashtray."

"That's a little bit of an odd combonation at 10am, don't you think?"

"No one ever called me the smartest motherfucker," he said with a small chuckle as he pull his right arm up to the bar top and the orange light of his Omni-Tool sprang to life. He tapped at the VI or a second and then dropeed his arm back to his side as he pulled another drag off of the cigarette. "There you go, honey. Keep the change. Just no more questions, ok?"

"You got it, sir."

From somewhere overhead, an intercom shouted something about another ship pulling in to refeul. He thought he head Vindicator, but he wasn't looking to rush. The barkeep sat the frosted glass of scotch in front of him and the cheese sandich right next to it on what he could only guess to be the only paper plate left in the Milky Way. He scoffed and turned the glass up, draining the amber liquid in one gulp before he set about eating his sandwich.

It wasn't long before he felt someone's presence behind him. "Penny for your thoughts, Commander," Sentry asked, his mouth full of cheese sandwich.

The man he was expecting stepped out from the shadows into the neon lighting from the bar's overhang. He sported a similar Cerberus uniform, brown hair slicked back, and hazel eyes; darkened by the dim lighting. Instead of sitting, he merely stood next to the where Sentry sat, both hands behind his back.

"Mr. Valentine, I presume? Do you know who I am?"

Sentry swallowed hard, then took another drag off of his cigarette. "Commander Jonathan Titus, born 2158. Attended the Alliance Naval Academy as a lieutenant. Became a very decorated N7 Marine. Congratulations for that, by the way. Obtained the rank of captain by 2182 before leaving the Alliance for more the more human-favorable conditions that Cerberus offers. Made commander of the Vindicator in 2184." He took another bite of his sandwich, chewed and swallowed.

"You're not the only one that got a pretty little manilla folder, Commander."

He stood from his seat and tossed a nod towards the Asari behind the bar before picking up his bag and turning towards the boarding docks. "I suppose I'll go get myself situated, sir. If you need anything, you'l know where to find me."

Titus turned and watched after Valentine brushed past him and made his way to the Vindicator’s docking bridge. He remained where he was for a minute, waiting until the air lock closed behind his new crew member, before walking back out into the main terminal. He continued to walk, gently weaving in and out of several spacers and travelers waiting for their vessels to refuel or finish being worked on. As he was now deep within the Terminus systems the language barrier was dense, with the tongues of several cultures feeling reverberating about the terminal.

He finally came to a stop when a woman’s voice, singing in perfect English, asked from within an alcove, “Long time no see, Captain.”

Titus turned and smiled to the dark haired woman leaning her shoulder against the wall with arms and legs crossed. “Lieutenant Carson,” he said, stepping closer to the woman named Sibyl. “It’s has been a long time hasn’t it?” John opened slightly opened his arms and she pushed off of the wall to accept the embrace, returning the smile.

After stepped back to her spot, she asked, “It’s Commander now, actually.”

“Promoted?”

“To the head of a new Alliance program called Oracle. Though, I’m surprised you didn’t already know.”

Titus shrugged his shoulders and slightly shook his head. “The Illusive Man must have forgotten to mention that the last time we spoke. So what’s Oracle?”

Sibyl leaned out of the alcove only enough for her to glance up and down both directions of the terminal. In a lower voice, she replied, “It’s the navy’s new special intelligence division. After my work in their InOps branch, they offered me the position of ‘the Operator’; the director of this new and improved group of spooks.”

John raised a brow. “The Operator? You’re not going to become recluse on a space station orbiting some random gas giant now, are you?”

His friend laughed and poked him in the stomach. “Of course not; so long as there’s one mystery man already doing that, the galaxy can sleep well at night.” She bent down to one knee, dipping her hand into a small bag that had been laid by her feet. A second later, she stood back up and revealed a small black box that she had recovered from the satchel. There was a silver piece on the front, where one would normally press in and lift up to release the latches and open the lid; but Titus recognized this particular model to be designed as a security lock box, built to protect small items of immense value; jewelry, credit chits, data disks, anything else a paranoid – or just very careful – individual could not trust themselves enough to keep on their person.

“I’ve brought what you asked for,” she said, handing the box over to him. “There is a DNA scanner on either side of the box. It’s been coded to only allow him to open it. He’ll just have to place each index finger on either side, let it read his DNA from his skin cells, and then he can just push in and up on the silver latch on the front. Simple; but secure.”

Titus took the box in both hands, examined it for a second – feeling the weight, the volume, the mere eye value – and nodded his thanks to Sibyl. “I could use someone like you on my team, Carson.”

Sibyl smiled, but replied, “Sorry, Titus; but I can’t. I have a duty with the Alliance, and my loyalty is also with them. I may look out for humanity just as much as you or the Illusive Man, but Oracle has standards; the first of which being integrity.”

It seemed a shadow had just been cast over Titus as he looked slightly away from the woman who used to serve with him as an N7 marine. They had been through hell and back in more than ways than one, and always came out stronger, closer, and more defined by their actions in the field. Both of them had taken lives, but in doing so they have saved thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands. Now, they had gone their separate ways. John had joined Cerberus, and Sibyl had migrated to the intelligence community. Now, he felt he was being accused; and if that’s what her aim was, she had every right to do so. He couldn’t blame her, and wouldn’t.

“I have to go, Titus,” she said abruptly, looking down at her Omni tool which had pinged aloud to grab her attention.

“Uhm, yeah. I’ll see you around, Sibyl,” he replied.

She turned to leave, stepping out of her alcove and past John; but before reaching even ten feet from him, she stopped and looked back. “You know Commander Titus,” she began, “it’s not you that should be asking me to tag along. It should be me asking you.” After passing him a quick wink of her eye, she turned back and disappeared into a crowd of humans that walked through a nearby air lock.

“Perfect timing as always,” John mused before heading the opposite direction with a smirk on his face.




Braden’s slammed downward and crashed into the blue mat in the center of the gym’s floor. Every last bit of biotic energy he had built up around his body channeled through his arm and released into a widespread shockwave, surging out from his knuckles. The blue and purple blast sent Villayn, Darak, and Arkan flying in an outward direction. The turian captain crashed into one of the treadmills situated in the corner of the room. His head rolled around for a second as he struggled to recover.

“Okay!” Villayn said, holding up his talons. “That’s enough for today.”

Arkan stumbled back onto the mat, and gave the human child a heavy pat on his shoulder. Braden was so exhausted from the session that he dropped to his knees as soon as Arkan’s talons made contact. “You okay?” the turian lieutenant asked sincerely.

“I’m fine,” Braden replied, standing back up to his feet with ferocity, attempting to maintain a tough appearance, which made Darak laugh.

Villayn walked over, but had a more serious look than his friends. “Promise me you’ll eat a full meal this time,” he said, pointing one of his long, bony digits at the boy. “Dr. Porter gave me an ear full the other day. I never realized that your species’ females can be just as aggressive as the asari. She actually had me worried she’d eject me out the air lock if you wound up on one of her recovery beds again after our training.”

Braden laughed and shrugged. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

The door to the gym hissed open and Commander Titus stepped in. He was carrying a small security box designed for private belongings. He nodded in greeting to Braden before looking to Villayn to ask, “Would you mind giving Mr. Reynolds and I a moment together, Captain? I won’t take too much of your time.”

“Take as long as you want, Commander,” Villayn replied with a nod. “We’ve just finished up for the day. You should know he’s doing quite well; already able to take on all three of us and come out on top.”

Titus actually seemed pleased with Villayn’s praise for the teen. “Well then, I’ll definitely have to come down and watch tomorrow. Thanks for everything you’re doing, Captain.”

“My pleasure, Titus,” Villayn replied as he made his way out of the gym with Darak and Arkan behind him.

When the door hissed shut once more, Titus walked over and onto the mat to meet Braden. He handed the boy the small box, who took it with great curiosity in his eyes. “What’s in it?” he inquired.

“Open it and find out,” John said gently.

Braden pressed each index finger on the sides of the box, and heeded to the sound of a hum coming from somewhere within. After a tiny click was heard at the front, he pressed his thumbs on the silver latch, press in, and then up. He transitioned one hand under the box for support as his other hand gently and slowly lifted the top back. Inside, he saw two titanium dog tags on a matching chain, perfectly polished, resting like feathers on a satin-gray silk display pillow. He reached in and gently lifted the tags off of the pillow, setting the box down on the mat after doing so, and lightly ran his thumb over the embellished print.

REYNOLDS
ADAM C
486850125 AN
O POS
CHRISTIAN

The boy’s knees began to shake, and Titus’ arms reached around behind his back and pulled him in close. Heavy, overwhelming sobs violently bore into his jacket, but John stood there the whole time: looking ahead, holding him close, and letting the young man release it all. Braden’s arms close around his torso and they remained locked in the center of the room for several minutes before Braden finally pulled away and looked back at the tags.

“Service Chief Adam Reynolds,” Titus said after a long silence, “that was your father. He was a very brave man, Braden. He was a proud Alliance MP, who gave his life defending you and your mother. You’ve gone through the last two years not being able to remember who they were. I figured it would help if you had something that the geth or Gavin didn’t take away from you.”

Braden lifted the chain around his neck, and let the tags rest against the outside of his shirt. His fingers twirled and fumbled with his father’s precious identity for a few seconds before whispering the words, “Thank you.”

John pulled the teen in for a final hug, rubbing a rough hand through his already messy hair before letting him go, and said, “Now, go eat. Veronica just about smashed my head into the wall because you passed out last time.”

Braden raised a brow and replied, “She is so my mom!”

It wasn't long after Sentry made his first steps onto the Vindicator that a crew member found him and showed him to his quarters. His jaw dropped as he stared at the waterfall and the plants and what looked to be the cushiest bed he'd ever seen in his life. "Holy...I knew being a soldier would work out for me at some point," he said to himself as he began unpacking his things.

Minutes later, he was changed into a thick pair of navy blue cover-alls and taking his first steps into the Vindicator's shuttle bay and began his mental inventory: Four Kodiaks sat in their designated areas, all looking to be in working condition no matter how banged up, dented, or scratched they seemed to be. Tools were strewn here and there where the engineering crew had been working and just left their mess to be dealt with at a later point. He sighed inwardly and ran a hand through his messy ginger hair as he started picking up the tools at his feet.

The sound of whirring gears caught his attention just moments later, and he turned to see the shuttle bay door dropping, followed by the sound of hoverjets. He watched intently as a large metal container was maneuvered into the bay by a twiggy-looking man controling the pallet by his datapad. The man stopped the pallet underneath an unused spot for another Kodiak and turned to Sentry.

"Can you sign for this, please," the man asked. Sentry stared at the man for a moment, then at the container, and then back to the man.

"Um," Sentry replied, "you might want to get Commander Titus' signature for...whatever this is."

"Listen, man, I really don't care who signs for it. I just need you to get it out of my container and off of my pallet so I can go back to what I was doing."

Sentry looked back at the container and then snatched datapad from the man's hand, mumbling something about the man looking "ever-so-busy" and something else about how signing for packages wasn't his job, and a few choice curse words as well. The man nodded to him as he took the datapad back and dropped the pallet to the floor before fiddling with his Omni-Tool for a moment. The container's lid sprang open and hit the shuttle bay deck with a loud bang. His face contorted into a look of supreme confusion as he brought his Omni-Tool closer to his mouth.

"Uhm, Titus," Sentry said, the confusion evident, "we got a new toy..."



"How'd the 'refueling stop' go, commander," Darcy asked as he spun his chair around to face Titus. There was a grin plastered across the helmsman's face, but there was something else about it that made Titus feel a bit awkward.

"It went...fine," Titus replied, though the upward inflection made the statement sound more like a question than anything else. "Braden liked his gift, we picked up Valentine...Yeah. It went fine."

"I saw you talking to a pretty lady, you sly dog," Darcy exclaimed in a very sing-songy voice. "Well, I mean, EDI 'saw' you with a pretty lady, but she was kind enough to fill me in on the latest gossip. Spill it. Who's the mystery woman, hmm? Did you kiss her? Please tell me you kissed her. I'm living vicariously through you, so if neither of us get lucky then no one's winnin-"

"Darcy," Titus replied, cutting the helmsman off, "she's just an old friend from the Academy who helped me get ahold of Braden's gift. Nothing more, nothing less." Darcy let out a disgusted sigh.

"Fiiiiiine," he said dejectedly, "don't fill me in on any juicy details."

"Just get the clearance for us to get out of here and stop whining, okay?" Darcy threw up a sarcastic salute

"Oui oui, mon capitaine!" He spun his chair back to the proper position and started fiddling with the displays in front of him. Titus was just about to leave when Darcy spoke up again. "Well that's odd."

"What's odd?"

"Well, for one, you won't give me the scoop on the pretty lady-"

"Darcy."

"-and for two, we're about three and a half tons heavier than we were when we docked. Three options: Braden's gift is made out of some sort of futuristic, super heavy steel that only he can carry, Mr. Valentine is an unholy ass-ton heavier than his dossier says he is, or....I haven't figured that last option out yet."

"Uhm, Titus...we've got a new toy..."

Titus looked down at his wrist as his Omni-Tool sprang to life and Valentine's voice came with it. "A new toy," he asked. "What do you mean we have a new toy, Valentine?"

"You might not believe me if I told you. Come on down here and check it out for yourself."



"...he sent us a Hammerhead?"

Sentry nodded slowly as he hooked the Hammerhead onto the overhead mechanical arms and started hoisting the vehicle in behind the last Kodiak. "It would appear so, yes."

"...why would he send us a Hammerhead?"

"I have no idea. Got any missions lined up for us that would involve a three ton, self-healing, jumping hoverboard that has a big gun and can dig?" Titus ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Not so far as I know, but it's not like he ever gives me a straight forward answer in the first place." Titus held his hand out to Sentry and Sentry took it, shaking it firmly. "Welcome aboard the Vindicator, Valentine."

"Call me Sentry," he replied. "Is every day with you guys this weird?"

"Nope," Titus replied as he walked back towards the elevator. "It's worse, usually."

Titus sat behind his desk in the captain’s quarters and tapped the key on the side of his computer’s screen to bring up the haptic interfaces. An unread message was waiting for him in his secure inbox, indicated by a flashing icon in the corner of the desktop. He tapped the icon the screen flickered to show a message sent to him personally by the Illusive Man. This wasn’t entirely uncommon. Sometimes there was simply no need to use the communications room, especially if the mission wasn’t critically regarding the Collectors or Reapers. Sometimes Cerberus Command would stumble across issues that needed to be resolved with a more militant approach, rather than using their clandestine resources. That’s where Omni Cell came into play. While the Omni commanders were primarily focused on slowing down the Collectors, standard Cerberus missions could still be delegated to them; and if the details were sent from their employer personally, it had to be of some importance.

Titus:

As you may be well aware of by now, I’ve had a special package delivered to your frigate’s shuttle bay. The M-44 Hammerhead will assist you in your next mission.

Your friend, Captain Marcus Shire, has mobilized Aurora resources on Noveria, in the Attican Traverse. We’ve pinpointed their activity in a remote region on the ice planet, far from the controlling grip of the Noveria Development Corporation. Shire is believed to be investigating Cerberus involvement in the NDC, and if his suspicions are confirmed to be true, will proceed to launch an attack on their headquarters. Since Noveria is outside of Counsel space, an Alliance-sanctioned attack on the company would go unquestioned, if simply scrutinized.

Yes, we are involved in many of NDC’s projects, as we just so happen to be one of their larger financial supporters. In return, the company provides us with reliable, high technology. Some of the twenty four other technology corporations established on the independent planet are actually Cerberus front organizations.

Commander, if we allow Aurora to interfere in our operations on Noveria, the setbacks would be detrimental. Since you’re the one that attracted Aurora’s attention to us in the first place - and, no doubt, sparked what appears to be a need for revenge from Captain Shire – I’m assigning the Vindicator the sole task of driving them from the system. Use the Hammerhead to destroy their forward operating compound, as well as any and all heavy militarized equipment they’ve imported.

I’ve assigned the Call of Victory to their own mission involving the Blue Suns, so you won’t have any assistance from them during this ordeal. Take care, Titus, and be sure to let Shire know to never interfere with our business.

The commander closed out of the message and leaned back in his seat for a moment, smiling to himself. “It seems I’ve started a war. Nice.”




“Can I at least have the chance to breathe fir-!”

“Nope!” Lizzie insisted as she shoved another spoon of Braden’s dinner in his mouth. The turians joining them only chuckled. “You’ll eat and you’ll like it.”

“Yesh, muhm,” Braden mumbled as he chewed as the food and swallowed. His cheeks were red with embarrassment, but he couldn’t do a thing about it. He was stuck in that seat, being force-fed by his girlfriend in front of everyone in the mess hall, and all so he wouldn’t pass out again.

The stern figure of Commander Titus gliding across the mess hall in Lizzie’s background caught Braden’s attention. When she had brought another spoonful up to his mouth, his hand intercepted her wrist and gently lowered it. “I can feed myself, now,” he said. “Thanks.”

Lizzie grimaced, but silently sipped her coke. The two of them sat and ate their meals quietly for a long while before she finally spoke up. “Where’d you get the tags?” she asked, nodding to the dog tags hanging down on the outside of Braden’s black shirt.

The boy’s hand reached up and gently tightened around them. “They were my father’s,” he said, looking down and away from the rest of group. “Titus gave them to me.”

“The son of a soldier,” Villayn commented. “I’m sure he would be proud of what you’re doing, kid.”

A shadow suddenly loomed over the table and everyone glanced up to see the commander standing at the end, hands behind his back and shoulders broad. “Reynolds… You up for a mission?”




Sentry, Braden, and Titus stood inside the briefing room, watching as the distorted blue light around the Vindicator’s tower faded away when the frigate exited FTL speeds. The large blue and violet planet of Noveria dominated the view. Simply looking at it made the young man shiver; an icy cold tingle running up and down his spine.

“Noveria,” the commander said as he turned to face the hologram in the center of the conference table. It was a layout of a particular surface area dominated on one end by what appeared to be a large military compound. The other end was nothing but cliffs, ice, and snow. “The mission is simple. The Vindicator will drop into low orbit, using the dense cloud cover in the atmosphere for cover. Darcy will keep the stealth systems while you-” Titus pointed across the table to Sentry “-pilot the Hammerhead down to the surface from the shuttle bay. Once on the ground, hit ‘em hard. EDI’s scans haven’t detected any heavy armor yet, but don’t be surprised if you run across a Mako or two. If that’s the case, the Hammerhead can easily outmaneuver them; even get the drop on them… if you know what I mean. Your objective is simple: destroy any and all militarized equipment in sight.”

Sentry nodded, studying the holographic map. He then asked, looking to the teenager standing next to Titus, “One question: What’s up with the kid?”

“His name is Braden Reynolds, and he’s a biotic… the best in my book. The Hammerhead doesn’t have much room for an entire fire team dressed in full combat armor. Only Braden and you will be planet-side. I’ll be in the CIC with Operative Taylor coordinating as your handlers and battlefield operators. Mr. Reynolds is along for the ride to simply learn; but if you find yourself in a sticky situation, he can use his own talents to your advantage. He’s a quick learner; give him a chance.”

"You've got it, bossman. One thing, though: If he comes back in a box, don't come hunting for my head. You won't have to hunt very hard seeing as how I'll be in the next box over, but I frown very heavily upon corpse desecration."

“Noted,” Titus replied with a smirk that he couldn’t help. Even Braden found the man’s surprisingly facetious response to be amusing. “Alright. We drop in one hour. Both of you need to get ready.”

Sentry cheacked over the controls one last time before he strapped his safety into place across his chest. The Hammerhead was online and ready to go, but that didn't ease his nerves in the slightest: His first op with the Vindicator and he was basically starting a full-on war. He sighed and pressed an almost invisible button on the side of his helmet, and a full HUD sprand to life in his view finder, complete with a compass, a link to the Hammerhead's defense systems, and a health monitor that read his own and Braden's vital signs. Everything checked out so far.

"Hammerhead to Viper," Sentry said in a monotone as he fired up the Hammerhead's engines. "How copy?"

“Loud and clear up here, Hammerhead,” Titus’ voice came back over the net.

"Spectacular," Sentry replied, forcing a smile. "How close are we to the drop zone?"

"About three hundred meters, actually," Darcy cut in. "I've brought us in as low as we can go. The hammerhead's thrusters should last long enough to bring you safely down to the surface; so long as you kick them on at one-hundred and fifty meters. Too soon and they'll burn out before you touch down; and too late, and you'll-"

"Land as softly as a feather being dropped onto a goose-down pillow? Why thank you for those kind, reassuring words of encouragement, Darcy my boy. I'm so glad that you wouldn't say something that would, oh I dunno, scare the kid half to death and/or make me wet myself in my new armour."

"You are most certainly welcome, kind sir," Darcy replied. "I do what I can. Mother always told me I was a giver. Two hundred meters."

Sentry looked over at Braden and nodded. "How're you feeling, boy-o?"

The kid looked back at him from one of the haptic interfaces inside the cramped piloting compartment. His face was pale, but he put on a defying smile and replied, "Fine!" He instantly glanced back at the terminal when he realized that he didn't need to yell it as loud as he did.

"Shit," Sentry said in mock surprise. "The kid's excited about work. Titus, where can I find more of him and what do you think a good price for them would be on the slave market?"

"Ooh," Darcy interjected. "That's tasteless and hilarious. I like this guy."

There was a pause on the net before Titus' voice came back over. "Braden... he didn't know...," he said slowly in a manner meant to calm someone down from bashing another's face into a bulkhead.

"Didn't know what," Sentry asked, looking over at Braden. The kid was staring at a fixed position on the wall of the Hammerhead with enough intensity that he could have melted a hole through the steel. And that's when it clicked in Sentry's mind.

"Oh. My. God. I am soooooo sorry," he pleaded. "Braden, dude, I had no idea and I just started and-"

"One hundred fifty meters," Darcy interrupted. "Green light."

"Thank you, Darcy," Sentry said sternly. His hands moved quickly around the console and the Hammerhead's thrusters burst to life, slowing their descent. "Braden, I'll tell you what: When we get back, I'll buy you a beer. Wait, how old are you? Nevermind. A cupcake. I'll buy you the best damned cupcake you've ever eaten."

The Hammerhead lurched a bit as they bumped into the planets surface a bit before the hoverjets shoved them back into the air. "Hammerhead to Viper, we've just touched down. Proceeding to target area."

"Roger, Hammerhead," Titus responded. "Stay safe."

"Aye, aye, commander," Sentry replied. "See you boys on the flipside."

"Captain!" one of the Aurora agents yelled while rapidly tapping away at an expansive haptic interface before him in the Aurora Project's Noveria command and control center. "Cerberus signature detected five hundred meters from the west perimeter! Closing fast!"

Marcus Shire stepped into the dim lighting that circled around the control room's ceiling directly overhead the many workstations similar to the beckoning agent's. He leaned in close to gain a better visual of what his operator was had found to be worthy of alarm, which was a live video feed of a fast approaching Hammerhead, adorned with the unmistakable white, black, and orange colors of Cerberus. Though their emblems were on the sides, and hard to make out in the relentless blizzard outside, the IFF's returned ping confirmed who was inside. A smirk formed across his grisly face and he stood up straight with both hands behind his back and his shoulders broad. "Condition Delta!" he barked. "It looks like Cerberus is bringing the fight to us."

The white lights overhead flashed to red, and the entire command room was now tinted in a darkened vermilion glow. Aurora officers picked up their paces, practically double-timing it across the raised walkways that ran in a similar circular pattern behind the control consoles, surrounding the primary battle operation table in the center of the room. Captain Shire guided himself with a calm grace back over to that very table, where he leaned forward on the chrome and overlooked a giant hologram of the terrain and his precious compound. One simple Hammerhead? Is that all?

He briefly wondered who in Cerberus had decided to attack him so boldly. The NDC could have very well detected and traced their presence on the planet already, and were perhaps sending a scouting party, but Cerberus wouldn't risk openly exposing themselves like that. No, it had be an outside cell; an operation being put together by someone that didn't have any direct ties to the technology corporations on Noveria. Commander Titus? The thought had definitely crossed his mind, and it seemed plausible. If that was true... The sly grin on Marcus' face grew twice as wide.

The captain was going to enjoy this little skirmish.




Commander Titus rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, wanting to pound Sentry's skull in for the reckless slave comment in front of Braden. Yet, as he told the no-doubt perturbed teen, the man simply didn't know. Besides, there was always the off-chance that Braden might actually play it cool and forget about it. But there was also the chance that he could go on an emotionally-fueled biotic rampage through the ship when they got back. John shook his head free of the thoughts, wanting instead to just focus on the mission. It would be best to simply cross that bridge when he got there.

Both the commander and Operative Taylor stood above the Vindicator's galaxy map in the CIC. With the tap of his fingers on his Omni-tool, the map dissolved and a hologram of the area of operation materialized to take its place. Their new toy, highlighted in Cerberus' famous fiery orange, glided across the ice- and snow-covered terrain with ease. Aurora's compound had been built on a complex base of primarily concrete, with higher elements constructed using a metal alloy. EDI's scans revealed massive thermal heat signatures radiating from below the bases. They were more than likely some kind of heating system put in place to keep the ice from over-taking the foundations. The concrete, Titus also noticed, wasn't poured there; it was placed there. Giant slabs had been molded and dried off-world, and delivered to the location to provide a quick foundation for the base and vehicles.

Overall, it was a well fortified position. Tall cliffs surrounded the compound on all sides but the west, where Sentry was quickly making his approach from. GARDIAN defense turrets had been installed in all corners, capable of providing both air and ground defense; unlike the air-only turrets on Anhur and most colonies. EDI had marked the location of four different power-sources, each linking to a particular turret nearby. Since the compound did not have a single, primary power house, every one or two structures required their own source of energy. If Sentry was going to survive against the turrets, he would have to use the Hammerhead's maneuverability to sweep in and take out their power units. A single tower wouldn't be able to touch him up close because of its height, but his ass would be left open for the other three towers to take a shot if he wasn't in and out fast enough. There was also the concern of the two M35 Mako armored units. They were fast, but difficult to maneuver; and their armor was weakest in the rear. Yet, if their 155mm cannon managed to deliver a direct blow to the Hammerheard, Sentry and Braden might as well abort the mission and bail out.

Titus didn't like the odds; and he especially didn't like his decision to send Braden down there for a "learning experience". He wanted to punch himself in the face, or drive his head into the handrail he was leaning against in front of the map. Veronica had already voiced her disapproval, and if the boy came back in a body bag, she promised to personally eject him out of one of the torpedo tubes. As much as he wanted to bring the Vindicator in for the same kind of bombing run that Darcy performed back on Lucr'n, he knew he couldn't. The Illusive Man planned ahead: knowing that Aurora would have had air defenses waiting, he sent the Hammerhead. That was the only way they could pull this off. He began to wonder if that's also why he had specifically chosen Mr. Valentine to come along with the package.

"Titus," EDI said aloud over the speakers before materializing on a nearby projection terminal next to the map's viewing platform, "I have detected a lot of troop movement within the base. The Hammerhead's IFF has been pinged, and Aurora is now fully aware of who we are. Sentry is now in range of their GARDIAN defense towers."

"Any good news?"

"Yes. Dr. Porter has reconsidered ejecting your body out of a torpedo tube, given the intimate relationship you two share. She has, instead, opted to eject you out of the airlock if Mr. Reynold's returns deceased; finding it to be less cruel."




The memories of his year as a tortured slave under Gavin's abusive and twisted control had tried to crawl into the back of Braden's mind, but he bravely pushed them back. He had to be focused on the mission, and Sentry's joke was just that... a harmless joke. He couldn't blame the man for not knowing his past, even if he wanted to turn his brain back into the primordial muck it had evolved from. But such thoughts were also unhealthy, so the teenager sucked it up and returned his focus to the terminal in front of him. The controls and readings were a bit confusing to understand at first, but his time playing Divide and Conquer on the Jon Grissam Academy's computer network had taught him a thing or two about military lingo. As it turned out, the stuff in video games wasn't so different than the real thing nowadays.

An alert message suddenly flashed across his screen: HOSTILE ARTILLERY FIRE DETECTED! EVASIVE ACTION RECOMMENDED!

He didn't need to be a military brat to understand what that meant. "Uhm... dude! You might wanna-" His voice was overpowered by a boom! somewhere outside the Hammerhead. Considering they were still alive, and the hover tank hadn't rocked or jerked from an impact, Braden assumed that the shot had missed; but probably by only a few yards. Out of instinct, Braden reached for and pulled the M-8 Avenger that Titus had given him closer and set it directly up against his seat, securing the butt of the rifle with one hand pressing it against the cushion.

If need be, he was ready and willing to fight today.

Sentry urged the Hammerhead forward, weaving in and out of cover as best he could to avoid the artillery fire that was raining down around it. He cut a glance over to Braden and smirked at the sight of the boy clutching the Avenger to his chest as though it were a teddy bear or a shield that would keep the bad things away.

"Hammerhead to Viper," Sentry called out. "Mark those towers for us, please. Shit's already starting to go to hell down here and I'm not fond of the idea of getting lost in a warzone."

"Uploading the data to you now, Sentry," EDI replied to him. "There are four GARDIAN defense towers in all, each with its own power source located close by. My scans are picking up increased movement within the perimeter, and three Mako tanks are moving to intercept."

"Thanks for the good news, EDI," Sentry replied. He held the course steady as they crested a small hill and the entirety of the base was shown to them, along with the three Mako tanks that had taken up defensive positions near the western wall of the compound where Sentry was supposed to bring the Hammerhead through.

"The ride's going to get pretty bumpy from here on out, kid," Sentry said to Braden. "I've piloted one of these things quite a few times, though, so I know what I'm doing. The main thing I need from you is to not panic. I'm not going to let these assholes have the honor of killing us." Braden nodded and loosened his grip on the Avenger. "Good deal. Now let's have some fun."

Sentry hammered on the boost and the Hammerhead shot towards the compound like greased lightning. One of the Makos fired and Sentry swerved hard to the left, knowing full well that Braden's eyes were glued to the sight of the shell striking the snow where they'd just been moments before. Another tank fired and he zagged to the right, feeling the shake from the shell exploding into the earth somewhere to his left. His eyes darted to the guage on the console that displayed the amount of boost that the hovertank had before it needed to recharge, noted its dwindling levels and kicked the boosters on.

The Hammerhead shot into the air and soared over the Makos and whatever ground troops had shown up to support the tanks. He heard bullets pinging off of the armored hull and smirked to himself. He forced his full attention back to the console in front of him andspun the Hammerhead in the direction of the closest defense tower, kicking the boosters back on at full force to slow their descent.

Two Mako shells crisscrossed over the Hammerhead as Sentry pushed the hovertank through whatever gaps he could find, dodging troops, bullets, and GARDIAN shells alike. The VI rang out in a warning as a Mako pulled into line behind him. It fired, the shell slamming into the wall nearest the Hammerhead, showering the vehicle with debris from the blast. It fired again. This time the shell struck the ground just behind the Hammerhead and the explosion shook the hovertank hard, but Sentry steadied the controls and hit the boost again and shot off across the compound to the first GARDIAN power station.

"Just swing through," he said to himself as he neared the power station and swung the Hammerhead broadside, letting it float along parallel to the outer wall.

"Light the power supply up-"

He fired the Hammerhead's main gun several times in succession.

"-and then swing out around the back."

He drifted the vehicle around the back as EDI said something about one tower being offline. One single Mako was heading straight for the Hammerhead, and the driver seemed hell-bent on not changing his course. The tanks main gun fired and Sentry swerved to miss it. It fired again and the Hammerhead narrowly avoided the strike. Sentry's eyes darted up and across the compound and saqw the GARDIAN's moving for another shot. He looked over to Braden and then back at the Mako careening towards them. Someone had to move first, but not yet.

WARNING, the VI shouted, COLLISION IMMINENT.

"That's almost the plan, Sparky," Sentry mumbled. The Mako and Hammerhead were mere feet away from each other now. He saw Braden wince out of the corner of his eye, the boy bracing for impact.

And then Sentry swerved out of the way, missing the tank by inches. The Mako made a sharp move to try and follow the Hammerhead, but the GARDIAN shell that just been fired at the targeted Hammerhead struck the Mako instead.

"EDI," Sentry shouted as he shot off toward the next power station, "tell Titus that he owes me a beer for making that fucking trick work."

"Why don't you tell him yourself, Valentine," Titus replied. "Get the rest of the op done with that kind of style and we'll talk about it."

Sentry laughed and took the rest of the towers with a surprising amount of extra confidence. Even Braden had lost what little fear he'd had in his eyes and was now sporting what Sentry and Titus would have probably deemed a decent war face. Sentry wheeled the Hammerhead back around towards the western side of the compound where they had entered and began the long trek back to the exfil point.

"Hammerhead to Viper," Sentry said. "Prepare for exfil. ETA is ten minutes."

"Copy that, Hammerhead," Darcy replied.

"Good work, guys," Titus added. "Get back here some you can get some res-"

An explosion rocked the Hammeread and all the consoles flickered and then went dark. The hovertank dropped from its low altitude and jolted its two passengers around quite a bit, but when the movement stopped, Sentry was out of his seat and climbing through the emergency hatch. There was a decent sized chunk of the Hammerhead's outer hull missing and sparks shot out of the gash.

"Fuck," Sentry said to himself before opening his com to everyone. "Mayday. Hamerhead to Viper. We've been hit and we're experiencing some minor difficulties."

"What kind of minor difficulties," Titus asked, his voice more panicked than it had been moments before.

"A whole mess of critical system failures," Sentry replied as the bullets started pinging off the Hammerhead. He took cover as quick as he could and pulled the ML-77 rocket launcher from over shoulder. "Seems we happened to forget that there were two other Mako's on our tail because they had their heads shoved in the sand so well."

"Can you fix it," Titus asked. Sentry looked over at the gash for a second before a bullet whirred past his face and he darted back into cover.

"I can, but it'll leave us really uncovered while I get it done," he replied as he poked his head out of cover long enough to fire two rockets, each of them slamming into their respective Mako targets that had taken up a defensive position a few yards away. "I'd say...fifteen minutes, minimum."

"Get to it, Valentine."

"Aye aye, sir," Sentry replied as he tchrew down a combat drone and a sentry turret. "Braden, give me some cover fire. If you get into the shit, let me know."

"I like the new trick," Sentry said with a smile. "Remind me never to piss you off, alright?" Braden smiled in response, sank into the Hammerhead completely, and strapped himself into his seat. Sentry could tell that the charge had wiped the young man out, so he tapped away at the console as quick as he could and sent the Hammerhead racing off in the direction of the exfil point. He could hear the base's raid sirens echoing behind them and all he could do was smile to himself.

"Hammerhead to Viper," Sentry said as he looked over the consoles one more time to make sure that everything had stabilized back to almost its regular levels, "we're approaching the exfil point now. Get her in as close as you can because I'm not running on enough energy to make an Olympic sized leap in this thing."

"You got it, boss," Darcy replied. "I'm coming in low. Just, please, don't scuff the paint."

"I don't really give a rat's ass if he scuffs the paint or not," Titus' voice rang out. "Just get back on here in one piece, Valentine. There's been enough excitement for today."

"You're fuckinay right about that, sir," Sentry replied with a laugh.



The cabin that Sentry had been given aboard the Vindicator looked basrely lived in: The walls weren't adorned with any kind of personal pictures, there were no books strewn across his desk, no clothes visible except for the ones he had on. There was only one thing that hadn't been in the cabin at the time of his move, and that was a picture frame on the bedside stand that held a photograph of a brunette woman.

Sentry tore his eyes away from the picture and looked down at the black and red leather jacket that covered his stout torso. His fingers slid across an embroidered N7 emblem on the chest and his eyes closed. He heard the door slide open somewhere ehind him and his eyes snapped open, his gaze caught once again on the picture.

"She's very pretty," he heard Titus say from behind him. "Yours?"

"She was, yeah," Sentry replied after a short silence, though his eyes never left the picture. "Every time I get back breathing from a mission, I always come back to my room and apologise over and over and over to her for not getting her out of there safely. I think she forgives me, but I just can't stop."

"What happened," Titus asked.

"Bad shit," Sentry replied, his gaze falling back to the N7 logo on his chest. "Really bad shit. Reason why I left the Alliance kind of shit. Reason why I never thought I'd wear this jacket again kind of shit."

"Sounds like a story," Titus replied as he moved forward and took a seat on the edge of Sentry's desk. "Care to talk about it?"

Sentry half-smiled and stood from his bunk, turning to his commanding officer. "Maybe some other time, sir. How's Braden doing?" Titus stood from the desk and the corners of his mouth tugged into a smirk. Sentry could tell how proud he was of the boy just from hearing his name.

"He's fine. The kid's in his room taking a well-deserved nap. I would say 'thanks for looking out for him, down there', but it seems he was the one looking out for you." Titus smiled to himself and he paced over to one of the windows in Sentry's quarters and stared into the passing abyss, beyond the blue emissions caused by the FTL speed.

"This is very true," Sentry said with a chuckle. "The boy's strong, Titus. I've never seen a biotic his age that could charge, and I've met maybe a handful of older biotics that could charge that far and that fast without passing out."

The commander nodded and replied, "Mr. Reynolds is equipped with the experimental L5x implants. While they're not the type designed for hard, fast strikes; they can up the biotic output of their user. His amps also came from the Ascension Project. So Braden has had a lot of money put into his training. Its only expected that he perform so well. But I want to be sure he's capable of doing more than just throwing his enemies around without touching them. I need him caught up to speed on everything else a good Cerberus operative needs to know. Captain Azuric Villayn - that turian in the blue armor you've seen walking around here - is training the boy in CQB. I'd like you to instruct him on how to properly handle and maintain his own weapon systems." Titus turned to face the man with a commissioning look. "Can you handle that?"

"Seems like a simple enough task, so I think I'm your man," Sentry replied with a nod. "Pick a time and send him to the armory. I'd be much obliged if we could hold out on it till tomorrow, though, if it's all the same to you."

"Very well, then. Expect him in your armory tomorrow at 0800 hours." Titus turned and started for the door, as he stepped in between the threshold, he glanced back at Sentry and added, "And Valentine... if you ever need to talk, I have an open door policy." The commander left it at that and stepped back into the corridor to allow the door to slide shut completely.

"You need a haircut," Lizzie insisted with her fingers combing through the mess on Braden's head. The young teen only snickered and let out a chuckle of amusement as he watched her reflection massage his neck and shoulder muscles in one of the windows of his - or their, really - room's starboard windows.

Eventually, his gazed focused on his own reflection. He had matured greatly since joining the Vindicator; not just mentally, but physically as well. His chin and jaw line were becoming more distinct, as well as his muscular tone. The training with Captain Villayn and the frequent use of his biotics kept his body in shape. He was still small, but he felt great; and looked it. From time to time, however, it wasn't just his body that he would find himself admiring. While Lizzie herself hadn't changed much since they first met, her body was always attracting his wandering eyes. Her eyes and lips were gracefully cute, and the rest of her was... irresistible. Especially now that he was sitting down on the foot of the bed and she had risen up on her knees to press down on his shoulders. The tilt in the window had given him a cruel, teaing angle and perfect reflection of her womanhood.

"You're staring again," she whispered, making him blush and divert his eyes elsewhere. As if to torture him more, her hand reached down and slowly slid across his bare chest. When he felt her lips on his neck, he squirmed and laughed. It was foolish, but he couldn't help it. She started laughing too.

Braden pulled himself away, but only turn around and gently push Lizzie back onto the mattress. Every nerve in his body screamed out, and a tiny voice in the back of his head was trying to say that what he was doing was wrong. Yet his adolescence and sexual desires urged him to keep going. As Lizzie laid out straight on the covers, he crawled over her, bringing his chest close to her, feeling her breasts press into him when she breathed in.

"Braden...," she started, stopping the boy from kissing her at the last second. "What are we doing?"

The young teen pulled himself up enough to look at her with fresh eyes. She was concerned, perhaps even frightened; and as she should be. Braden quickly pushed back and away, nearly falling off the side of the bed. He was red with embarrassment, but also felt guilty and overwhelmed with fear. "I- God, I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was thinking! I just-"

He felt her hands over his shoulders a second later, stopping him before he could ramble. "Its okay," she cooed. "Its okay. We're not ready yet."

"Yet?" He turned to see Lizzie smiling out of his peripherals. She leaned in and pecked him on the corner of his lips.

"Yet," she promised.




The next morning seemed to drag. By the time Titus had made it to the helm, he was already sipping down a second cup of coffee; which was a rarity for him. At most, the commander would hardly finish one cup, preferring to take only a few sips and let the rest sit on the edge of the galaxy map all day until Operative Taylor insisted he toss the cup in the trash. Maybe the recent increase in stress was causing him to act differently, or perhaps he was beginning to feel older.

No, it wasn't age, he told himself. He had been one of the youngest soldiers to hold the rank of Captain in the Alliance. In Cerberus, he still held that same rank. “Commander" was simply a title to them, and it wouldn't change unless the Illusive Man hand picked him to be promoted to one of his esteemed generals.

The thought of Cerberus becoming its own army only disturbed him. They were supposed to be covert, but with how things were going, the Illusive Man was making them look like any other galactic fleet out there: generals and their troops, ships outfitted with thannix cannons, and entire space stations devoted to the research and development of weapons. How much longer until Titus left Cerberus like he left the Alliance?

"Something on your mind, Commander?" Darcy asked, glancing up at a gloomy Titus standing just over his shoulder.

"Just stuff that's better kept to one's self, Darcy," John replied.

A tone sounded from Darcy's haptic interface. "Look's like the boss wants to see you upstairs,” he said, tapping a key to acknowledge the notification. John silently nodded in response and spun around to hastily make his way back down the bridge and into the CIC. He past by the multitude of technicians and navigation experts, offering a nod in greeting to Taylor as she gazed over the galaxy map, and entered the elevator. Stretching his index finger out from its snugged position around the warm coffee cup, he pressed the command to take him up to deck one, and then took a final, long gulp of the miracle liquid. In the back of his mind, he prayed the Illusive Man had not read his thoughts light years away. The timing of this summoning was uncomfortable, if he were to say the least.

At the ping and opening of the elevator, John stepped out and headed straight forward into the conference room, only stopping for a single second to leave the near-empty coffee outside. Once inside, EDI, as usual, had begun closing the outer shutters to darken the circular room, and the table disappeared into the floor. The Man's familiar office materialized around John. Today's star an odd complexity of deep reds and a tint of violet. As usual, nothing about it was recognizable.

“Commander Titus,” the Illusive Man greeted, lighting a fresh cigarette. “You look a little tired. I hope your burning out too quickly. The threat hasn't gone away over a few weeks.”

Titus straightened himself out before replying, “Don't worry about me, sir. I'm willing and able for whatever task you have for the Vindicator next.”

The Man smiled after letting go of a stream of smoke. “That's what I like to hear.”

Before the conversation carried forward, a figure came into view next to John. The commander shot a surprised sideways glance to Terrance Sinclair. “Professor?”

“Commander,” Sinclair said in return before turning his attention to the Illusive Man. “Happy to report, sir, that Operative Buchan's nervous system has received the immunity to O-E without rejection; and her new L5x implants are operating as hoped. She'll be fit for duty again in no time.”

“Excellent news, Professor,” the Illusive Man said, well pleased.

Titus was lost. “O-E?”

“Omega-enkaphalin, Commander,” Sinclair explained. “It's a biotic-supression drug that was secretly developed by Cerberus in 2169; codenamed 'Project Trapdoor'.”

“I'm having all of our biotics undergo nanosurgery so their bodies can adopt an immunity to the drug,” the Man said. “I don't want our own weapon turned against us.”

Titus nodded his understanding. “I see. What about Serena Taylor, or Braden Reynolds? They're both biotics, and on my crew. Will they have to undergo the same surgery?”

Sinclair shook his head. “Operative Taylor received her immunity shortly before Sovereign's attack of the Citadel. Braden received his at the Ascension Project when they installed his amps and implants. Cerberus is making sure all of the human biotics trained at the Grissam academy are made immune to omega-enkaphalin as part of our agenda to advance our race's own biotic abilities.”

“Well put, Professor,” the Illusive Man commented. “Thank you for your report. You're dismissed.” Sinclair bowed and humbly stepped out of the three-dimensional conversation; leaving Titus and his employer alone to carry on.

“How much do you know about our history with the quarians, Commander?” the Man asked.

John smirked. “Enough to know that we royally pissed them off, recently. Something about a bomb and a girl from the Ascension Project. Grayson's doing, right? Before he went rogue?”

“Vaguely, yes. Since that incident, we've had trouble to inserting spies into the Migrant Fleet, and I'm rapidly running out of eyes and ears inside their flotilla. Their entire population is strictly quarian-only; so we have to rely on converting some of their own to be our agents; and that's not always easy. If they're still apart of the tight community that makes up their fleet, then they're usually loyal to the core. Quarians aren't ones to have loose lips these days. Any small thing that threatens the security of the Migrant Fleet sends them over the edge. Thus, our only viable option left is to infiltrate and install our bugs. But to do this, I need the best infiltrators we have. Unfortunately, Vala still needs time to recuperate; and I have Kai Leng on an important assignment of his own.”

Titus shrugged his shoulders, not quite understanding why the Illusive Man was going to him about this. The Vindicator had no other infiltrators that were capable of the mission. He was right about Vala still needing to recover after the surgery; and other than her, no one on his crew had the technical or strategic know-how to replace her. “So... what do you need me for?”

“The truth is, Commander, I don't. But within a few hours, I will. I'm dispatching another infiltrator to your crew. Like Vala, he deserves high praise from me. In fact, he's so skilled at his job that I have working as an inside man in an organization I believe you've recently discovered. Does the name 'Oracle' ring a bell?”

John's eyes widened and his mouth almost flew open. “Ugh... Yes; it does.” He then folded his arms across his chest. “But I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that you know about my relationship with Sibyl Carson, that particular organization's director, now should I?”

The Illusive Man smiled and took another drag of his cigarette. “No,” he said while blowing out the smoke. “You shouldn't. The agent's name is Janis; Janis Freeman. He makes infiltration, sabotage, and assassination his profession; practically an art. Where Operative Leng performs with the grace of a magician; Operative Freeman dazzles with the charm of a politician. They're both cunning, deceptive, and highly skilled; but for this particular mission, Freeman's expertise is preferred.”

“So how shall I proceed with the mission once Janis is aboard my ship?”

“He's on his way now via another Cerberus frigate. Once he transfers under your command, I want you to travel to Omega. In the past, I had one our agents bargain with an exiled quarian to gain the secrets of boarding the Migrant Fleet. He taught us how its done: through the use of unique pass phrases. Unfortunately, he couldn't provide us with what was required. The pass phrases taught to him in particular had been black listed per his banishment from the flotilla. We had to torture a captured quarian for his phrases. One denotes an 'all secure' message; where the other is a duress phrase. This time, however, we've cut a deal with a quarian whose not banned, and he's willing to trade his phrases.”

“What was the deal?” Titus asked, looking sharp for the catch.

“The quarian's name is Jal'Ishtet nar Idenna. It just so happens that the Idenna is the particular vessel in the flotilla that I need bugs installed inside the most. In exchange for getting you on that ship, he's asking for a large amount of the drug Hallex. We're not entirely sure of the reason for this odd request. Perhaps that's something you and Janis can find out while talking with him; though I have a feeling its a simple drug triad business.”

“Anything else I should know?”

The Illusive Man stood up from his chair, holding his cigarette down to just above his waste line. “There is one other thing...,” he replied, taking a moment's pause as he considered his words. “I'm well aware of your last visit to Omega, and Braden's particular attempt at exacting revenge on his former slave master. While I'm not concerned about that in particular, I am concerned about the possible consequences that situation may have led to in regards to Aria T'Loak. I hope her seeing you again won't be problem, Commander.”

Titus placed his hands behind his back and straighted himself with the discipline of the soldier he was. “No, sir. I can assure you that Cerberus presence on Omega is of no concern to her right now. I managed to smooth things over when we last spoke.”

“I know you did, Titus. I'm just making sure you understand that Cerberus - I - can't afford to be on bad terms with her at the moment.”

“Understood, sir.”

The Illusive Man took a final drag of his cigarette. “Good.”

Titus stood on the other side of the conference room table with his arms crossed over his chest, and one foot and shoulder back as he scrutinized the man named Janis Freeman, standing directly across from him. From the start, when Operative Freeman first set foot on the Vindicator, the commander didn't like him. He seemed sly, full of himself, and all-around untrustworthy. According to the man's Cerberus dossier, he was a political infiltrator and veteran double-agent; sent to work for the enemy, only to find and exploit their greatest weaknesses. Perhaps it was simply the Cerberus influence of distrust that was influencing Titus to eye the man with the utmost suspicion, but one thing was for certain: you can never fully trust a man that hasn't lost something. Everyone so far on his crew has had to either make hard sacrifices, or witness something – or someone – close be taken from them. Mr. Freeman seems to have lost nothing, nor does he have anything to lose.

“So,” the commander began, “Oracle, huh?”

Janis smiled and nodded. “Oracle.”

“How's-?”

“-You're friend? Oh, she's fine. Not to worry, though, Commander; the Illusive Man has no plans for Ms. Carson yet.”

“Yet...”

There was an awkward, hanging silence in the room as the two men continued to exchange dubious looks. Finally, through saving grace, the door to the briefing room whooshed open and Serena Taylor came inside and down the few steps leading to the center of the room. When she joined her own section of the table, she broke the ice by asking, “So... Omega? We've already been their once during this mission.” She looked over to Janis. “Mind filling us in on what exactly needs to happen when we arrive back on that infested station?”

Freeman smirked at Taylor's implicit prejudice and then raised his arm to bring up his Omni-tool. A few key strokes had projected a holographic map of the station in the center of the conference table. He commanded the image to zoom in on a particular area of the station and the render the more minute details of small dive bar. “One of our alien contacts on the station, a volus named Korvin Don, has offered his bar for the meeting with our quarian to take place. Its not exactly a 'safe house', but its out of the way from any of the major gang activity. Now, knowing quarians, our contact is probably going to ask for his petty Hallex right away; which is currently sitting in the Vindicator's port side cargo bay.”

“Nice to know I've got drugs aboard by ship,” Titus retorted. He quickly withdrew when he saw Serena's cold 'shut up' glance from the side.

Ignoring the comment, Freeman carried on with his briefing. “The quarian, Jal, will find that his requested Hallex has been moved to the bay of his choosing once we meet up with him. We're obviously not going to be dragging a dozen crates of Hallex through Omega streets. That's just asking for it.”

“A dozen crates?” This time it was Serena that had interrupted.

Janis nodded without loosing his bearing. “Jal has been trading illegal intoxicants for some time now. He found the business to be more... profitable than his pilgrimage. Whatever floats his boat, I guess; Cerberus is happy to trade whatever street drug he desires for the valuable information he's offering.”

“About that,” Titus interrupted. “How can we be sure he's giving us the right codes? What if he tricks us into giving the Migrant Fleet a duress code when he attempt to board?”

Janis grinned. “Let me handle that, Commander.”

The whoosh of the door echoed in the room again and the three occupants turned their heads to stare at Braden marching through the threshold. There was a tempered fire in his eyes, and both of his fists were clinched. “You're going back there?” he demanded.

The teen stopped just short of Titus, who began to beg the question, “How did you-?”

“Darcy told me,” Braden responded.

The commander sighed and rubbed his temple. “I'm sorry, son; but I won't be taking you with me this time. This particular mission requires a lot of expertise in a certain art – something you haven't been properly trained in yet.”

Braden looked heartbroken, and also furious. He turned his head down to hide the creeping emotions. Serena placed a hand on his shoulder and gently turned the young man around to guide him out of the briefing room. When the blast doors closed behind them, Janis was the first to speak.

“I've read his dossier. Tragic... what happened to him.” The man's icy gaze peered over to the table to Titus. His arms crossed over his chest and head tilted low, he muttered, “He'll make a good asset to Cerberus one day.”

John only glanced to Janis out of his peripherals, his body still facing the door that Serena and Braden walked out of. The man's heartless words struck a chord somewhere within him and he could only blame himself for that cold truth. An “asset”? Is that what Janis sees in the boy? Just another assassin stripped of his free will; ordered to do the Illusive Man's bidding?

“Something wrong, Commander?” Janis asked, pulling John from his doubtful thoughts about the organization he worked for.

The soldier straightened himself out and rolled his shoulders back. “No. Let's carry on with the plan.”




Titus wasn't too surprised to find that the same turian from last time was standing at the end of the docking bay, waiting to register the commander's now-second arrival to the infamous station. The Talon mercenary looked his customer up and down with a suspicious eye as he took the CHA credit chit that John extended to him.

“Back again, huh?” the turian asked rhetorically. “Where's the armor?”

John, Serena, and Janis were wearing typical civilian clothes. Titus had chosen to sport a tan leather jacket and black cargo trousers. A Hahne-Kedar Kessler pistol had been concealed by the jacket, attached to the belt. He knew the merc wouldn't care what kind of fire power they brought onto Omega; his job was to simply collect credits. Everyone on the station was carrying some kind of piece. Guns weren't intimidating to the people here; they're merely a means of protection.

“Won't be needing it this time,” Titus replied with a small smile to try and lighten the stiff mood.

“Uh-huh...” The turian swiped the credit chit over his Omni-tool and handed it back. “Enjoy your stay on Omega.”

The trio walked out of the docking station and into the crowded streets. Janis led the way to Korvin's bar with Titus taking up the rear to watch their backs. Serena walked in between, tapping at her Omni-tool to complete the transfer of the Hallex crates into the Talon's cargo depot at the dock. The fees the merc group was charging for the shipment were unbelievably high, and she silently thanked herself for Cerberus' funding.

When the three of them stopped at a taxi port, Serena punched in a summon command for the next available skycar on a nearby console. After completing a nominal fair towards the volus merchant that ran the small-time cab business, the woman turned and said, “Our destination is near Afterlife in the upper districts. It'll be faster if we hitch a ride instead of taking the primary elevators that run through the station's pylons.”

“You want us to take one of those filthy-ass things?” Janis asked.

Serena shrugged her shoulders. “If it gets where you need to go, what does it matter?”

“It matters because I don't want to step out of a cab with alien piss on the bottom of my two-thousand credit pants.”

John exchanged a bemused look with his second-in-command and then said, “Well at least Mr. Clean, here, won't set off any contamination alarms when we infiltrate the Migrant Fleet.”

“Oh, you're funny...”

The skycar landed a few feet away from them and Serena popped the hatch, taking the driver's seat. John sat shotgun, while Janis carefully positioned himself in the back, ensuring before he sat completely down that the seat was free of any foreign substances – liquid or otherwise. When the hatch closed, Serena skillfully piloted the cab up into the higher portions of the station, following a single pylon to the top. Details of the underbelly of the mined asteroid became more apparent the closer they got; and within a few more minutes, Serena saw an available cab port near where they wanted to go, and expertly straightened out the skycar for a gentle landing.

A tone sounded when the hatch popped open and the haptic control interface on both the driver and passenger side faded out of existence. Janis was the first out of the skycar, quickly twisting around to check the underside of his trousers, brushing away at whatever nonexistent disgust had attached itself to him.

“Question,” Titus began, “do you always such expensive taste to on missions?”

Janis finished checking himself and then straightened out to face Titus with a wide grin. He slid both hands into his trouser pockets, pushing back the folds of his pearl white blazer, and replied, “Expensive taste is a sign of success. Success yields respect. Respect yields power.”

John leaned back and folded his arms. “But you're an infiltrator. What kind of respect and power do you hope to hold over someone's head when you technically don't exist?”

Janis' grin seemed to morph into a wicked smile as his head tilted downward. “All the more reason to be cautious when dealing with someone like me. Too many unknowns.”

A blonde woman dressed as a typical mercenary flying out of a bar window was the last thing John had expected to happen during their casual walk to their objective. It was typical that such a sporadic event had to take place only a hundred meters from the place they were supposed to meeting with the quarian. As Serena helped her commander back to his feet, Janis moved to take cover behind a large column. Serena deployed a biotic shield before her, and John drew his pistol from under his jacket. He rushed to help the woman to cover behind a low, but solid kiosk.

"Are you injured?" he asked, checking her over while ducking his head lower as a barrage of shotgun rounds pelleted the other side of their cover.

"I'm fine!" The stranger peeked over during a lull in the firefight before glanced back down. "Just a Krogan charge; I've handled far worse."

John raised a brow at her, but quickly ignored the hard-to-believe tale. "Serena! Cripple him!"

Without hesitation Taylor hit the Krogan dead on with a biotic warp; bringing the large barbarian to the floor in agony. He may have been a two ton tank, but any organism can easily fall prey to an attack at the molecular level. As Serena's warp slowly tore him apart, the woman that had crashed into John stood up and place several well-aimed shots into the beast's cranium. John and Janis both leaned out of cover to focus their own fire on the asari that had tried to be a lone ranger and leap out into the middle of the street with biotics flaring. The two Cerberus operatives made quick work of her.

"That's all of them," Serena announced. The four of them entered the bar and observed the damage. An astonished whistle was all that came from Janis as he looked over the chaotic destruction. In one of the corners was a lone mercenary, covered in blood and clearly dead.

"Dammit," the woman said as she quickly made her way over to the body to check for a pulse. After as second or two, she closed the man's eyelids out of respect and stood back up. "Well... I guess I'm out of a job again."

"Who was that?" John asked.

"No one important," she replied. "Just a former colleague now." When she was sure the rest of the area was secure, she holstered her weapon and approached the three. "You guys obviously aren't typical civilians. No uniforms, no gang emblems, no distinguishing tats... Who are you guys?" She leaned back on one heel and folded her arms, a curious look in her eyes.

Serena and John looked to each other, seemingly trading telepathic thoughts and wondering just how to answer that question. Eventually the commander returned with an answer. "We're with a covert human group."

"Well," she said, "Terra Firma isn't much into military ops; and the Alliance wouldn't be found within light-years of Omega. That leaves only one organization you' could possibly be with... Cerberus."

"Clever girl," Janis commented. "And just who might you be?"




Agent Harrison's footsteps echoed across the reflective glass floor in the Operator's office dome as he made his over to her desk just beyond the center of the room. She stood with her back to him, dressed in the same, conservative-style suit she always wore, facing an array of holographic screens in front of her. They were strung out from the floor to the ceiling of the dome, panning out in a horizontal arc from one side to the other. Outside, was nothing but a dense, bluish atmosphere of a classified gas planet in a classified classified system. The station sat at a high altitude, but low enough to be completely covered and practically undetectable by simply surface scans from wandering (more like lost) non-military ships.

Adam finished his long walk through the interior of the Oracle station and stood with his hands behind the small of his back, waiting for Operator Carson to acknowledge his presence; which she eventually did so by simply turning her head to see him through her peripherals. "Ma'am," he began, "the Cerberus operative that Commander Slatton captured has been transported to our facility on Asphodel. We've mobilized Aurora assets in the area as a defense force in case Cerberus tries to take their man back. All Aurora knows is that they're safe-guarding a high-value target. They don't know who or why."

"Good to hear, Mr. Harrison," Sibyl replied. "But I didn't call you in here for a status update on the Harrens interrogation. Instead, I have a more important task for you. One that requires expediency, but delicacy."

"I'm listening."

Sibyl tapped on a haptic keypad in front of her and a hologram of a man with slick brown hair and a trimmed goatee materialized right before Adam. The man stood rigid, with military posture, and was wearing a Cerberus officer's uniform. The details jutting out to the side in the hologram labelled the individual as a Commander Johnathan Titus. He was a former N7 Marine, and a highly decorated officer of the Alliance Navy. Why he left was anyone's guess. But Adam didn't see why Sibyl was showing him this information.

"Ma'am, isn't Agent Freeman assigned to Commander Titus?"

"He was," she replied with a hint of spite in her voice. "But InOps has intercepted orders from a Cerberus command relay; orders meant specifically for Freeman. I'm afraid we've been dealing with a double-agent this entire time. Janis' loyalty, it turns out, is not with us after all." She turned to walk around her desk and leaned against the front of it. The hologram of Titus faded, and Adam was left staring directly at the Operator. "You're the only one left I can fully trust, Adam. Agent Freeman is working against us, trying to ensure Titus remains loyal to the Illusive Man. I can't have that. Somewhere within him is the man of honor I used to know and work with. I want the old Titus back; and I'm assigning you to protect him and do just that."

Adam was quite astonished by the assignment. He had been on countless protection missions before, but none of them involved protecting an enemy target. "So... just how am I supposed to convince Commander Titus that he's on the wrong side?"

"Play to his morality. I know John. He'll do everything in his power to protect the innocent; and that's why the Illusive Man's decisions are beginning to wear him down. With every op that Cerberus pulls that puts civilian lives in danger, practically making them petty sacrifices to achieve their goals, Titus' loyalty decreases. I know this because he's not one to just throw away his values. I can read it between the lines of the after-action reports InOps intercepts; and if the Illusive Man is personally assigned Janis to play tug-of-war with us, I know he's at the point of neutrality. You're my final pull, Adam. Are you up for it?"

Harrison took a minute to think over what was being asked of him. The mission would obviously involve either infiltration of Titus' ship, or a covert interference in his next operation. The latter would probably work best, seeing as Janis is already aboard the Vindicator. Being spotted by Freeman would be an instant mission failure. "Alright," he said, "I'm in. Where do I start?"

"I'll have Prophet keep you posted on Titus' locations. You'll need in get in close and sometime when Janis isn't around."

"It's like you're reading my mind," Adam commented.




"I'm assuming that was the typical riffraff of Omega?" Prophet's voice said in Adam's earpiece as the agent lay low on the catwalk overlooking the practically destroyed bar, below. Tracking the Vindicator wasn't as hard as it sounded during the intel brief, or according to the frigate's specs on a datapad. All one had to do was look for a CHA-owned cruise ship travelling in the Omega cluster. Its not everyday that a luxury cruise frigate just happens to dawdle in the Terminus systems. Cerberus sure had a funny way of defining covert.

"Yes, and no," Adam replied in a hushed whisper. He was leaning against a large support brace on the catwalk, perfectly hidden by the light-bending tactical cloak around his Oracle black-ops armor and Valkyrie assault rifle. He watched as Titus entered the bar after the firefight with a woman that had been tossed through a window by a krogan. "Lost sight of HVT. Re-positioning." Adam quickly moved down the catwalk a ways until he found himself just above a ledge that the catwalk branched out over top of. After securing the rifle to the magnetic clip on his back, he grabbed a hold of the railing and threw his weight over, landing gracefully on both feet on the ledge below. He then went prone and had a perfect view into the building from his new angle. "Eyes back on," he whispered into the comm. "They're not doing much. Just talking."

"Operator Carson would like me to remind you that 'time is of the essence', Agent Harrison," Prophet stated.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell her I'm moving as fast as they'll let me."

"Or you can just tell me yourself, Adam," Sibyl's voice came over. "You know the beauty of having quantum entanglers these days is that you can do practically anything with them; even hook an AI up to one."

Adam smiled to himself. "Never bothered to ask how I could talk to Prophet with absolutely no lag, let alone see that he's available at every Oracle outpost and base across the galaxy. Let me guess, you've got a QEC terminal in Omega that broadcasts data over a tight-beam range to my personal comm equipment, right?"

"More or less," Sibyl answered. "We're Oracle. We've got assets and equipment staged everywhere. In a sense, we're just networked and rooted as Cerberus. The only difference between us two is that I've got more friends and allies. It's hard to keep company when you're an elite asshole with a racist agenda."

The three that Adam had been tailing for quite some time now had finally exited the ruined bar and continued down the street; but his eyes widened in a bit of surprise. His HUD zoomed in to focus on the blond woman that had been thrown out of the bar. She was now moving along with Titus' group. "Hold on," he said, "it looks like your friend's team has a passenger."

"I know, I'm looking at your visor feed now," Sibyl said. "Prophet, can you get me a facial recognition scan? I want to know who she is."

"One moment, please." There was a few seconds of silence as the AI went to work on identifying the new female in the group. Finally, "Subject is former Alliance marine Dianna Henricksen. Reports show that she escaped an Alliance military confinement facility on Keckson several weeks ago; imprisoned for the first degree murder of her former CO. A biotic; vanguard class, and very deadly. I recommend extreme caution if you run into her."

"New friend?" Adam suggested.

"Probably," Sibyl answered. "Keep your guard up, but I want your eyes on Janis even more. It's him I'm more worried about. He may look like a smooth talker in his file, but he's also a deadly accurate assassin. One of my... or the Illusive Man's best."

"Roger that. They're on the move... and so am I."

Jal'Ishtet nar Idenna sat in one of the dark corners at the other end of the bar, completely alone and out of earshot of others. Titus and his crew wasted no time in making for him. Dianna broke off halfway there and took up a seat at the bar. Serena positioned herself against a wall facing toward Jal', keeping to the shadows. It was only Titus and Janis that joined their contact at his corner booth. The quarian's digits began nervously fumbling on the table's surface when the humans sat down across from him.

"You must be the Illusive Man's attack dog," Jal' asserted.

Titus maintained a steady frown, but narrowed his eyes. He could tell the quarian was trying to put on a tough look, but he clearly wasn't any good at it. "One of them. Jal'Ishtet, I presume?"

The quarian began looking in every direction around the bar, with barely visible eyes behind the darkened green visor hiding his face bouncing up and down, and from left to right. When he was sure that all was clear and no one was eavesdropping on the conversation, he raised a nervously shaking hand and begged, "Quiet! I can't be seen or heard talking to you. And I caution you using my name."

Janis shook his head. "We've shipped the Hallex to the loading bay of your choosing, Jal'," he said. "Just tell us what we want to know and you'll never have to see us again. Trust us; no one's going find out we ever talked."

Jal' relaxed a bit, but his eyes still darted around the room. They eventually stopped and locked onto Dianna, who was still sitting at the bar. "I've seen her before," he said. "She's with one of the gangs here on Omega; and I know for a fact that she's not Cerberus. How many other outsiders are aware we're meeting here? So far, you're not doing a very good job of earning my trust."

"You wanna talk trust?" Janis scolded. "How hypocritical is that? You're the one who's trading off classified information that will allow us to infiltrate the Migrant Fleet, betraying the trust of your own people."

"You humans have a saying: 'Trust is a two-way street.' My own people betrayed me first, Cerberus. I offered them a gift upon my return from the pilgrimage, but my captain rejected it. He said that my gift was unworthy of being accepted. Hallex may be a hallucinogen, but certain properties of the drug can be extracted for medical purposes. Each dose contains high concentrations of tygliceride-folic acid. A modified folic acid that only be produced through the chemical combinations found in the drug. TF18, as the medical experts have labeled it, can be used to fight a number of infections that my people are vulnerable to every time there's a simple valve leak."

"Let me guess," John said. "You offered a bunch of Hallex to the captain of the Idenna; but he refused. He didn't understand your intentions and he didn't give you a chance to explain their medical benefits."

The quarian nodded. "He didn't trust me. So to hell with them all."

There was a noise from inside Janis' jacket pocket and the man reach inside to take out a small communicator. He glanced briefly at the screen before getting up the seat. He glance down to Titus and quickly said, "Excuse me. I have to take this." The man swiftly walked through the bar and ducked out of the entrance. Titus didn't really think much of it. As a double-agent, the man must always be busy answering both Cerberus' and Oracle's bidding. He could only guess who was trying to get a hold of him now. What was really none of his business, and he wouldn't dare try and guess what the call was about either, fearing it would open a can of worms or simply cloud his judgment with too many negative thoughts. At times, secrets are best left with their keepers.




Adam remained in the shadows, but kept his adaptive cloaking system online as an added precaution. He had only been staking out the bar for a few minutes before Janis came walking outside. A pocket communicator was in his palm, and from the looks of the glow on his face from the screen, he guessed he was in the middle of a video conference. It had to be Cerberus. After Sibyl's startling investigation revealing Janis as a double-agent, there was no reason in the galaxy for Oracle to be contacting him now.

Harrison waiting on the sidelines and observed Janis speaking into the communicator. For a moment, it seemed as if it was just a normal, everyday conversation, but something suddenly changed and the man's expression turned to one of surprise. The Cerberus operative looked over his shoulder, in Adam's direction, and the Oracle agent froze solid. He was sure that Janis was staring right at him, but after the man turned away to look elsewhere, Adam relaxed. Still, things weren't quite right. Janis was definitely making sure that no one was listening in on the conversation, and Harrison knew for certain that whoever Janis was speaking to had just told him something unsettling. This was quickly confirmed when the man revealed a pistol from within his jacket and terminated the call on the communicator. Janis took one last look around before heading back inside the bar, a determined look in his eye.

"Shit!" Adam hissed as he darted from the shadows, his cloak flickering as the processor fought to keep up with his dead sprint.




Titus and Jal' were just about wrapped up with their meeting before he heard Janis over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Commander Titus; but it appears I've been ordered to eliminate you."

"What?" Titus shot around in his seat only to stare down the barrel of Janis' pistol. The man had aimed it at him so fast that Serena and Dianna hardly had the time to react. Both of the women had their own weapons drawn and pointed at Janis, but neither dared to fire for fear of putting Titus' own life at risk. All of them knew that under the expensive attire, Janis still charging up biotics would most certainly force Janis to execute Titus on the spot.

"It appears your friend has caught me red handed. My access to Oracle resources has been cut off, and the Illusive Man has personally ordered me to terminate your contract with Cerberus."

"I don't understand. What have I done to the Illusive Man? Why am I even involved?"

"The Man has seen your loyalty to Cerberus waver for some time now. Sibyl sought to take advantage of that and recruit you to Oracle; but the Man thought he'd give you another chance and sent me to persuade you otherwise. I was to never deliver Sibyl's offer to you, but instead work to ensure you stay where you are. It seems though that my cover has been blown, and the boss wants me to simply kill you before another of the Operator's agents reaches you."

Janis' finger slowly squeezed on the pistol's trigger, but before it could be pulled back far enough to fire a round into Titus' skull, something burst through the front door of the bar and explosion just meters from away from the two of them sent Janis flying through the air and leaving Titus' completely deaf. Only after a few seconds of fighting off the disorientation did John recognize the effects of a high-impact concussion grenade. Whoever tossed it had just saved his life. He struggled to gain his balance when he crawled away from the booth, still fighting off the dizziness. His hearing was muffled and his sight was hazy. Seconds later, he felt someone lifting him to his feet. He glanced up to see Serena's concerned face. Her lips were moving, but he could hardly understand what she was saying. Finally, her words became clear.

"Titus?! Answer me dammit! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine!" he managed to say.

Dianna's voiced called out to them. "Hey! We're not done yet!" They both looked from her to the man she was pointed a gun at, wearing white and black armor with no logos. His visor was pitch black with multiple blue slits of light forming a chevron pattern. He was wielding on the Alliance's new Valkyrie assault rifles, but wasn't pointing it at any of them. Titus looked back over his shoulder to see an unconscious Janis lying on the floor. Jal' was ducking below the table they had been sitting at, in fear for his life.

"It's fine, Dianna," Titus said, gently removing Serena's hand from his shoulder as well. "I don't think this guy is our enemy." He looked into the visor of his mysterious savior and asked, "Am I right?"

"Adam Harrison," the stranger said behind the visor. "I don't have time to explain, but I'm with Oracle. You can either come with me or-"

"They're they are! Get 'em!"

Everyone in the bar whirled around to see a gang of mercs bursting through the door with brandished weapons. From the look of the armor, Titus guessed they were with the last gang that Dianna's previous employer had been meeting with. Harrison opened fire before the first man through the door could pull his own trigger. "Out the back! Move!" Dianna and Adam kept the new comers suppressed as Serena and John led the way to the back of the bar. They charged through the a storage room and Adam briefly stopped to topple over a large supply rack to block off the door. They used the extra minute he bought them to sprint out the back door to the bar and disappear into a filthy alley on the other side.

The four of the kept running, with Adam leading the way. "We need to get back to the Vindicator," Titus exclaimed.

"No can do," Serena replied. "You heard Freeman. The Illusive Man wants you dead. Cerberus Command will already overridden EDI by now. The Vindicator won't budge until reinforcements arrive at Omega to take her back."

"I sure know how to pick 'em," Dianna quipped. "In less than an hour I'm already having to look for new work."

"Don't sell us out that easily, miss," Titus retorted. "You'll only miss more fun. Anyway," he looked back to Serena, "what's the plan, then?"

For the first time in a long time, his second-in-command was a loss for words. She struggled to think, but the entire situation was unbelievable. One minute they were being praised by their boss for their successes, and the next he's wanting them dead. "I don't know," she finally said.

"Perhaps I can be of further assistance," Harrison said. "The Operator didn't send me here alone. There's an Aurora frigate not far from where the Vindicator is docked now; the Marathon. We can be there in minuets if we take a sky car."

Titus, Serena, and Dianna all slowed to a stop in the middle of the street. The gang that was chasing them was nowhere around for the time being, all of them desperately needed to catch their breath. Adam wasn't phased in the slightest from the constant running, however; and turned around to look at them as if he was waiting on a child to hurry up their shoe.

"I appreciate the offer," Titus said, "but I don't know you."

John saw Adam placed two fingers to the side of his helmet for a few seconds. It was evident he was communicating to someone, probably a contact on the ship he had mentioned. What he didn't expect to happen was a hologram emit directly between them, and the figure of Sibyl Carson materialize in the middle of the street. She stood with hands on her hips and a stern look in her eyes. "Commander Johnathan Titus, get on that damn ship!"

He could only smile and say, "Nice to see you too, Sib."




Veronica dashed outside the airlock leading to the Marathon where Titus was standing, speaking with Adam. Her eyes were fixed on the datapad in her hand. "John, we've got a problem."

Titus turned away from Adam and asked, "I'm guessing we're missing someone, right?"

"Just one: Vala Buchan."

This took the commander by complete surprise. Of all the people that could have been missing, he would thought Vala would be the last. "I thought she would have been transported with the other medical bay patients."

"She woke up from the anesthetic shortly after you left the Vindicator. She insisted upon leaving the bay, as she did the last time she was supposed to be on recovery status, and no one has seen her since."

Titus brought a palm to his face. "This day just keeps getting better and better."

"I'm sorry, Titus," Adam said, "but we have to go... now."

The blast door on the far side of the docking bay whooshed open and the three of them saw Janis Freeman dashing into view with a large device in his hands. Only when he shouldered it did they realize that he was carrying an ML-77 rocket launcher. Harrison ushered the Titus and Dr. Porter into the airlock and spun around quickly to place a several shots from his Valkyrie down range toward Janis. One of the rounds managed to impact the man's leg right as he pulled the trigger on the launcher, sending a rocket off target. The projectile impacted with a bulkhead near the airlock; a little too close for comfort.

When all of them were safely inside's the ship's own airlock, Adam commanded, "Helmsman! Disengage docking protocols! Get us to the nearest mass relay!"

"Aye-aye, sir," an unfamiliar voice answered over the intercom. A second later the three of them heard multiple metallic clanks as the locks disengaged from the dock's bridge. They were now safely drifting away from the station. Titus was the first out of the airlock, making his way through completely unknown territory, trying to find a window anywhere on what appeared to be the Marathon's bridge. When he finally found one, he pressed himself up against the glass to see the docked Vindicator, only four ports down from where the Marathon had been a minute ago, becoming ever more distant.