Running a ship was easy. Sophia rolled her eyes as she sat at her desk. Holopads were scattered across her metallic desk while other decor were pushed to the side. Other than a few medals and a small memorial for the 116th, the desk was spartan.

Running a ship was easy. That’s what Captain Johannson, her superior back when was still with the Alliance had said. He was either damn good at managing thousands of things at once or an expert liar. With barely a week under her belt as the ranking officer of a ship, Sophia spent all her time ironing out the kinks. Decisions had to be made, ship maintenance had to be maintained, living space complaints addressed, and so much more. In the past, the engineer always believed the other officers on the bridge were extraneous, there for morale and show. Oh how fast she changed her way of thinking soon after.

The Palamecia was a sixth generation stealth assault vessel. Officially, the sixth generations didn’t exist. The normal militaries — even special forces — still operated on the fifth generation vessels. Taking after the design of the Normandy, the sixth generations carried the hardest metal hull that could be fitted to the ship structure without compromising speed. Stealth systems rivaled that of the Salarians who had ultimate proficiency in espionage. Even the weapons system — though not as heavily focused — could pack a punch. All in all, the Palamecia was a damn fine ship.

Sophia swiped at a hologram of the ship. The Palamecia was split into six compartments. All in all, it resembled that of the Normandy’s layout with a few modifications. The sixth floor was still the Captain’s quarters, fifth was the bridge, fourth the expansive crew quarters, third engineering, second medical bay, and first the cargo hold. The major difference was what was added into each level. The galaxy map was centered within three prongs. Each respectively belonged to the Captain, Navigator, and Tactica. The designers thought it’d streamline communications. Sophia shrugged. To her, it was a vulnerability. One well placed enemy shot would vaporize the commanding officers almost immediately — assuming they could get through the multicore shields and the hull’s metal. She looked into their specs. Even though she was a veteran engineer, it still boggled her mind.

“Good morning Captain.”

Sophia looked up from her files; she stole a glance through the observation window. “Huh,” she said. “How’s the crew? Did the requisition I ordered come in yet?”

“All operatives have been allocated to their quarters. Support teams have voiced no complaints. General crew all seem stable as well. The package has been secured,” said Sira, the ship AI. “I’ve taken the liberty to begin routine system checks. Chief Engineer Addison has agreed to cooperate with me. You have new directives, Captain.”

Sophia stared at the AI, as she held up a holopad. “I’ve read it,” Sophia said. “Have the other cells begun their mission?”

Sira was quiet for a second before her visual blinked red. “I’ve been blocked from answering that inquiry. Unless given Director clearance, anything pertaining to Echelon structure is classified.”

It didn’t surprise her one bit. Black Op groups were all the same. Unlike the normal military where anyone could search the net, nothing existed about the shadow groups. If they died, no one but a very select few would know. It was a sound protocol. To protect any black ops group and what they did, no traces could be left behind.

Flipping through the operative files, Sophia looked sparingly over the details. Weeks before the Palamecia departed from the docks, she had spent her time memorizing the details. Each individual carried with them rich histories. Records were spectacular. Psychological profiles … fair.

Tapping her fingers against the desk, Sophia glanced at her desktop clock. She got to her feet. “Sira. Send out a message to all the operatives. Briefing room in ten minutes. Faster would be preferred.”

“Message sent. Anything else Captain?”

“Pass the coordinates to Navigator Jones,” she said as she adjusted her white and black fatigues. The organization she worked for spared no expense. The material her uniform was made out of, though seemingly normal, was thick enough to stop a bullet from afar. Up close, she’d probably be on the floor bleeding out. “We’ve sat around long enough.”

“Navigator Jones has inputted the coordinates.”

Sophia nodded as she made her way to the door. It was time for proper introductions.

It was odd, being called on such a special mission. A request that would lead to someone's proclaimed death, yet would fight against a strong unknown force with other races. Now, Phalanx didn't exactly have anyone who would worry about its proclaimed death, but it was still a unusual circumstance. After all, the synthetic platform had only been assigned solo missions and this would be a first actually working on a team with different species. The Geth unit did not mind at all, in fact it gave it a chance to study organic life forms more thoroughly when it had time. Phalanx was a logical choice to be part of this interspecies mission, since it was quite calm and showed unusual kindness to others. Able to handle interactions a bit more efficiently compared to the rest of the synthetic race. Plus being a master with infiltration, hacking, and sniping.

In a slow stride through the crowded halls of the Cathedral, once revered to as the Citadel so long ago, Phalanx carried its guns on its back while only holding a simple wooden box. The box was shaped into a small chest, a golden ribbon bow shaped wind up key resting on the front just below the opening while a simple gold design on top of the box. It made a spiral design on both the left side and right side while they connected in the middle to disappear in a large silver flower known as a rose in the human culture. It was in quite a surprisingly well kept condition, despite how old it probably was, but Phalanx had made sure to take extreme care.

Today was the day Phalanx had to report to the ship. The Geth didn't really have much personal belongings to bring on a trip other than weapons. Yet Phalanx was one of those few who actually did carry a few personal items. It surprised many who noticed it, mostly its own kind questioned how illogical it was to bring items in a military scenario. Phalanx ignored them however, and continued to do what it did.

Finally making its way to the ship, the synthetic platform paused as a holographic blue orb appeared at the door that led into the ship assigned to Echelon.

"Greetings Geth unit, I am Sira. As per instructed by the commanding officer, please verify your identification. I word of caution. Forgers will be quickly disposed of." It greeted in its feminine slightly mechanic tone. This must be the ships AI. It was now more common to have AI's on board, do to their effectiveness in assisting the pilot. Of course, they were mostly only for the advanced military ships.

Not giving much room for hesitation, Phalanx clearly and smoothly responded in its own synthetic slightly feminine sounding voice. "Greetings Ship Unit, I am System 42009874563001, Call Sign Phalanx. Homeworld resides in Rannoch and I am Echelon unit G101. Requesting entry." It said, giving the identification needed for entry in a fluid manner.

"Identification verified. Standby. Echelon operative verified. Please proceed to the meeting quarters immediately. The Commanding Officer on deck wishes for all operatives to attend a mission briefing." Sira said before disappearing and allowing the ships door to open.

Phalanx paused for a moment before giving a slight bow. "Affirmative. The orders are acknowledged and gratitude is in order." It said calmly before entering the vessel. Making its way through the quarters of the ships halls and passed the ships crew made up of several different species. Soon enough, Phalanx entered the meeting room and saw it was the first to arrive.

Despite this however, and the fact the action was not necessary for a synthetic, the Geth unit took a seat, setting the box on its lap as it patiently awaited the arrival of its fellow operatives and the Commander

As it waited, the synthetic lifeform ran a internal look through of all the squadmates files. It seemed most were human, not that the Geth unit minded but it had hoped for a Krogan and a Creator, both holding strong skills in what they do. Still, Phalanx wouldn't judge the decision of the Directors. There were some of the said races minding the ship and that made it more reassuring. In ways, Phalanx couldn't help but wonder if the races were trying to obtain another Shepard from the human race. Though their logic was quite flawed since Shepard-Commander was a very unique individual, including among the humans. Such aa person was but dream to find a clone. Another Geth unit was also placed on the squad, a Prime in fact. Most likely to make up the lack of firepower from a Krogan.

Silently, it continued to analyze the crew's files, making sure to study every bit of information its hard drive could contain.

Boots strode down the hangar bay in a firm, steady rhythm. Armored plates -dyed black and trimmed in silver- stood connected by hardened threads from feet to neck, a sleek shell Arileth wore like a second skin. Her hood folded down and stored away, sea-green eyes watched uncovered from a clear blue face, never truly focusing on anything unless it was necessary.

The C-Sec officer chasing behind her, trying desperately to catch up as he called out again and again, hardly qualified as necessary... Though it was becoming annoying.

"You! You! The Armored Asari! Yes! Stop now- You cannot wear armor or weapons while in the Cathedr-"

"Officer." Stopping short, she spun on one heel to face the human, raising one hand to stop his advance. "I'm leaving at this very moment, my ship-" Her free hand raised to point an armored thumb behind her. "-Is a dozen strides away. Is this really worth the time?"

"You weren't a dozen strides away when we asked you to stop, and both of us know it. I'm going to have to ask you to surrender your weapons and accompany-"

"No."

The officer barely reacted to her response, eyes widening for maybe an instant before he went for his gun. Disciplined, then, a quick glance to his shoulder revealing he was no raw recruit. Not someone trying to take advantage of their position, either, to judge by his demeanor.

Guess he deserved a response, after all.

"Officer," Arileth produced a holo-pad in response to the Man's pistol. Her name, rank and confirmation ID stood out below a single symbol taking up most of the screen. "I am Arileth, Asari Huntress currently assigned to the Palamecia. Please check my ID, you'll find I have been granted permission to bear my arms and armor through the Cathedral for the purpose of boarding that very ship."

True to her judgment, the officer paused, lowering his pistol to run her numbers through his omni-tool. One moment, two, three passed before he nodded, expression unchanging, holstering his weapon and meeting her gaze once more.

"They say you're cleared. Reveal such orders sooner, should you bear weapons aboard the Cathedral again, otherwise you'll be detained until a detailed check can be preformed."

"I'll avoid that." Her answer caused his eyes to narrow, so hers did the same. After one final moment of matching wills, she offered a small salute and turned, boots striding finally to her new assignment.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"Arileth, callsign Bastion. Asari huntress of Thessia currently assigned to Echelon. ID A96-00325."

"Identification Verified. Please follow the schematics on your holo-pad to the briefing room, the mission briefing will begin shortly."

Arileth nodded once to the holograph of Palamecia's AI and stepped through the now-opened doors. Perhaps she should have just done that with C-Sec in the first place, but given Echelon's position as a Black-Ops group, she had figured avoiding them was the better option.

Perhaps she should have harder on that end, but making it to the Palamecia's docking bay before they noticed wasn't all that bad.

It wasn't exactly hard to find the briefing room, with or without the directions the ship's AI had uploaded for her. The crew she passed offered quick acknowledgments or apologies as she passed them by, otherwise unconcerned by the armored Asari striding through their ship. Though given their doorkeeper, perhaps they figured anyone coming through was a new member of Echelon. A little suspicion would have actually been welcome -it certainly would have made things more familiar- but she wasn't exactly with a 'normal' crew anymore. She wasn't even on a 'normal' ship.

Sixth generation stealth vessel, sixth. Asari command would be tripping over themselves to get a look at this ship, if they hadn't had a hand in it's construction to begin with. Probably for the best this ship -and this unit- were council-owned. Every race's government probably knew this vessel existed, but probably felt they all 'owned' a piece of it. That way you avoided the otherwise-inevitable mob of spies, thieves and saboteurs such a ship would attract.

Still, the Thessian Huntress in Arileth had to wonder if there was anything about the ship her people didn't know. Anything they might want to find out.

A question for another time, boots took her through the final set of doors and into the surprisingly spacious briefing room. Only one other... person... was there -a Geth unit- sitting to the side with a small box on their lap and weapons on their back. Given her own recent troubles -as well as her profession- Arileth was more intrigued by the weapons than the box.

Only one other? Small crowd.

"Greetings." A nod and salute accompanying the word, she moved to stand against the wall near the Geth, sea-green eyes taking in both it's mechanical form and the arms it carried. It was buried in studies, by appearances, so she said nothing more. Instead, she busied herself scanning through the files on her own holo-pad once again, refreshing her mind for the mission.

Sixth generation stealth vessel, a silent unit of agents pulled from across the galaxy, supposedly more cells beyond her own, and an enemy they knew barely anything of. A refresher was a good idea after all, with every read, there only seemed to be more information to ponder.

Yet another reason to be proud she was chosen.

[ignore for now. Mispost]

a thudding sound could be heard down the hall towards the hanger, some people stopped and stared as a rather large robotic being walked down the middle of the hall, it's platting had a crimson red colour with some white designs on it, it seemed to ignore the people it passed by, almost bumping into a few people a couple of times as it entered a security point that would allow it to get to the ship, as it approached the person at the desk it seemed to be ignored, the person working at it obviously wasn't paying attention, because when it noticed the large being that stood in front on her she had a slightly shocked expression
.
"c-can I help you?..." she stuttered
.
"we are searching for the Palamacia" it droned in a robotic tone towards the human
.
the girl looked to what looked like a weapon on the beings back
"I'm sorry but that is a privet vessel you'll-" before the girl could finish the being had held out a data-pad that had information about it's reason for being here
"your a geth?, I.. I haven't seen one before, your a lot bigger then I thought..." the girl said as she looked up from the data pad
.
"we are geth prime, this platform is designated as Crimson" it said down to her
.
"r-right, your cleared to go..." she said as she handed back the data-pad, the prime took the pad and walked towards the ship, every step was accompanied with a thud as it walked towards the ship, guards kept there eye's locked on the geth prime as it closed on the ship it was heading to, just as it reached the ramp onto the ship it looked around to see if any others were following it, it the proceeded up the ramp, as it got to the door of the ship a holographic blue orb appeared at the door
.
"Greetings Geth unit, I am Sira. As per instructed by the commanding officer, please verify your identification. a word of caution-" before the holographic orb could continue Crimson held up a data-pad to the orb
.
"all information regarding us being here is on this" Crimson said to the orb, the orb then scanned the device and looked to Crimson
.
"identification confirmed, welcome aboard" it said before it's hologram dispersed, Crimson simply nodded before entering the ship, it looked around to the other that were there, mostly human occupants were here, Crimson had no problem with this, he wasn't bothered by it, Crimson then walked towards what he believed to be the meeting room to wait for the others

The Cathedral never changed much. The noise never faded, crowds neither swelled nor dwindled, artificial light constantly illuminating the five massive arms. The lack of a day and night rotation caused this persistent restlessness of the Cathedral. There was no set sleep cycle, business hours were 24/7, and the economy as always booming on the ancient city because of this. Ships buzzed in and out out the massive ports, carrying people, cargo, and occasionally, dangerous criminals like former Captain Werner “Drake” Coetzee.

His chestnut hair, interrupted only by a few premature silver strands, was long, much longer than the average military soldier. It hung in ragged locks down to his shoulders, hiding his much of his face from curious eyes, the rest covered by a three month unkempt beard. The ex-pirate stood proud though, with shoulders back and head up despite the metal links that dug into the leathery flesh of his wrist and ankles. A tight fitting dark jumpsuit clung to his deep chest and broad shoulders, doing little to conceal the hard, dangerous lines of his limbs. Perhaps the strangest feature of this roguish figure was his arm, rather a lack of. In its place, a prosthetic hung, gradually weaving into his shoulder in a symbiotic relationship with Werner. The exterior synthetic material resembled a rugged kevlar in texture, which weaved together exactly like human muscle. The grafted arm was obviously of Geth origin, though the five-fingered hand suggested the limb was fitted for a human rather than the machines who resembled their creators. Behind the criminal stood two fully armed Alliance soldiers, one with a heavy duffel bag, and both with their weapons half raised at the man between them. Their battle-scarred armor attested for their experience in combat, as well as the ranking insignias on their shoulders, but to Werner the former proved much more.

The sterile white airlock of the Shadow of Intent hissed as white gas pressurized the small chamber. A soft mechanical whirring in the hydraulics could be reverberated through the room before the gate lowered and hit the ground of the Cathedral. Werner, his usually long stride restricted by shackles, shuffled out of the ship, carefully followed by his two guards. The spaceport was just as he remembered three years ago, and he was relatively indifferent with the reunion. The artificial environment of the ship might suffice for the residents who lived there since birth, but to a native of Earth, and more recently Rannoch, fake trees, recycled air, and unnatural white light all seemed like a poor imitation of a true planet. Ironically, Werner didn’t mind the same environment when crammed onto a ship with several others, but a frigate was a second home to the ex-pirate. He stopped at the end of the ramp and took a sweeping look of the ship yard. Cargo ships, Alliance cruisers, passenger transport, they all hummed in and out of the docking bay. Three years ago, Werner would have pulled one of the greatest acts of piracy ever known in this bay, his name forever branded in history as the man who held the entire galaxy hostage with only a pistol. His shadowy eyes met the very location where he reunited with the very woman who stopped him. Werner swallowed and turned to his captors.

As one man uncuffed his wrists and ankles, the other tossed the massive duffel bag to his feet. “Remember, you’re going straight to The Palamecia. We’ll be watching,” The guard said ominously as his partner finished. Werner rubbed his human wrist and nodded before picking up the bag and leaving. He did respect the men. They did their job perfectly, and above all treated him fairly, which he didn’t exactly deserve. How many of their friends had he killed? In fact, he didn’t even deserve this opportunity at all, a shot for redemption. If he were on the council that decided his fate, Werner knew that only a swift execution would be fitting, and even that would be too merciful. Still, his skill in combat and extensive knowledge of asymmetric warfare evidently made him a prime candidate for this elite squad. Perhaps he would simply be used as cannon fodder. Werner shook his head and began walking through the shipyard, scanning for the Palencia. He’d been told that it was unlike any ship he’d ever seen, the rogue almost scoffed. In his years of pirating, Werner saw almost every single ship in existence, and yet when he laid his eyes on the sleek vessel, the ex-pirate knew it was a majestic work of craftsmanship to behold. It was obviously modeled after the SSV Normandy, and yet, like his arm structured after the Geth, there were obvious improvements. The hull was seamless and smooth, unmarred by the trials of time and battle. Points seemed to be nonexistent in the frame, every single point perfectly curved for maximum aerodynamics and structural integrity. The massive weapons interested him more than anything. Obviously, the engineers knew what they were doing, and this extensive designing no doubt extended to the weapon system.

Once again, Werner found himself in another white metal room, but this time, he was greeted by a voice as cool as the floor beneath his boots. A small electric blue hologram materialized in the previously empty space before him and spoke. ”Greetings human, I am Sira. As per instructed by the commanding officer, please verify your identification. A word of caution. Forgers will be quickly disposed of." Werner couldn’t help but chuckle at the last bit. Leave it to the military to kill anyone mistakenly stumbling upon their ship. Yet, the simple statement testified to the secrecy of the squad, sending a chill through his body.

“Hello, I’m Werner Coetzee, or Drake. I’m from South Africa, and…” He fumbled for his datapad in the duffel bag before continuing,”ID is F34-21540.” Werner’s informal tone showed just how little he cared for formal military language. Even then, he didn’t like how people addressed AI like they were simply computer programs. Many artificial intelligence units were more sentient than many people he knew. With this in mind, Werner silently hoped the ID was right and the chamber wouldn’t fill with toxic gas.

“Identification Verified. Please follow the schematics on your holo-pad to the briefing room, the mission briefing will begin shortly.”

Werner breathed a sigh of relief as the door opened and he walked into the ship, where he was met by a human who handed him a uniform directed him to the bathrooms. The frigate, he realized, was almost an exact interior replica to the SSV Normandy. He studied the schematics as a child and almost committed them to memory, so navigating through the Palamecia was like coming home. The long row of computers crammed with sailors, the massive galaxy map, even the elevator was in the same position. Werner was almost like a child again, though he kept his composure, but barely. He made his way to the bathrooms and quickly changed into his uniform, and was surprised by the perfect fit. Even the left sleeve was absent, hemmed at the perfect length where synthetic met organic. He hefted up his bag and prepared to leave, but caught a glance of his reflection in the mirror. Werner’s hair hung down like a dog, and though he was unfamiliar with military regulations, he knew it was far too ragged. The pirate reached into his bag and went to work on the mess, emerging as a fairly presentable figure. With the hair now gone, his sharp, angular face was now revealed, though slightly distorted by a light stubble, and the two deep gouges in his cheek visible. From memory, Werner walked to the briefing room, greeted by two geth and an asari. The presence of the machines caught him off guard, but their presence was comforting. Geth, by his experience on Rannoch, were the most honest and trustful beings he ever encountered in his life contrary to many stereotypes. Perhaps he admired the machines since, one could argue, he was almost part of them due to his prosthetic. The asari, on the other hand, caused his muscles to lock as he instinctively prepared for a fight at the sight of gleaming armor. Amazonian warriors, as the asari were commonly referred to among pirates. They were fierce in battle, especially with their advanced biotic powers, and never an adversary to overlook. He relaxed after a second and nodded to his crewmates before seating himself next to the geth with a box in hand and looked for their commander.

A ring filled the air as a brilliant coin shimmered, spinning upwards before retuning to the hand of it's Drell owner. Facing the large window of the starboard observation deck, Mionos Kryn let out a reverberated sigh and placed the coin back in his coal pocket. He'd not been able to sleep well on the humid Palemacia since boarding a few days past. It showed in the way he stood; where he would stand full upright, almost imposingly so, the Drell slouched with a rather dull look in his eyes. He knew a mission would suffer from such an unfocused state of being, and this mission couldn't go south. He could loose too much, more than ever before. The thoughts raced as he tensed ever more, placing a thumb upon his chin and giving into the whirlwind of thoughts in his head.

The city bellow captivated him, momentarily setting Kyrn at ease. His eyes followed the passing lights of the crafts that zoomed through the constructs. His senses dulled, drawing him into the seen. Just as that happened a voice broke through, "Operative Kyrn, you are needed on the Briefing Room," noticing the Drell fliched at the suden lack of silence, the AI continued, "My apologies. I did not mean to frighten you."

"You didn't. Why am I going to the Briefing Room?" Mionos took a deep breath to relax and focus.

"To be briefed, mister Kryn."

"Right, of course. I'll be there in a minute," his tone didn't betray his momentary frustration. As the AI quieted, Mionos turned toward the door, rubbing his jaw in hopes to ease the tightened muscles. Hardly noticing other crew members, Mionos quickly became drawn to the repetitive clacking of his boots on the metal bellow. Eyes fixed on the floor. Something touched his shoulder. A dark shadow casts down the alley. A man, but not, the size of a Krogan. He brings a heavy metal beam down with incredible force. Murder in his eyes. The Drell spun on his heels pinning the man behind him to the nearest wall with pistol shoved up his nostril.

"Whoa, Mionos," The human man had his hands raised. Kryn dropped his weapon slowly, releasing the man. "Are you okay, man?" The crew man gave a sincerely concerned look.

"Of course," he turned away, "Shouldn't you be calibrating something?" he said, leaving the man befuddled.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the drell strode into the Briefing room. "Good evening," he chimed. "Sounds like the vacuum. Not very talkative ones, it seems?" he said scanning those that had made it so far. An asari, a human, and to his slight discomfort a couple geth. None of them seemed too social. He crossed his arms, with a quizzical glance. More silence, this isn't going as enjoyable as I'd hoped. He thought, hoping they'd not notice how tensed his muscles were becoming. Tahiro, give me strength.

The bridge level, where the briefing room was housed, was thrown into a flurry of action. While support members manned their stations at designated sector entrances and the elevator, other crew members walked around the large oval galaxy map dispersing information or receiving. It sent a flush of militaristic pride through Sophia. Every officer’s dream was to have personnel who knew precisely what to do and do it well. The average guaranteed a mistake, which cost far too much. The crew she had was anything but. Extraordinary. She wondered how the Council and Directors acquired said personnel. Through subtle muscle and diplomacy she was sure.

“Captain.” Sophia turned to see who the voice belonged to. A tall turian walked up to her. A holopad in his hand. “Support is ready to go. They’ve been briefed as you’ve instructed. It’s good to finally get moving. Idleness is not my strongest suite.”

“Neither is it mine, Arterius.”

The turian had been selected to lead the support teams of the Palamecia. Operating as the ships muscle, repelling and ground side support for the operatives were their mission. Though Sophia wasn’t given their dossiers to read — nor would she have the time to peruse their files due to numbers — each must have a talent to be here. Though teamwork was suppose to be given, she wanted to evaluate them. When mixing so many species together — each with a differing tactical style — things happened to go awry. This was no different.

“I’ll be waiting down in the hanger,” Arterius said. “Glad the operatives are aboard. Took them long enough.”

“I’ll signal you when we arrive at the destination,” she said. “Make sure your team is armed wi—“

“Entry and Fortification Kit. Got it.”

Sophia nodded as she continued to the briefing room. She side stepped a walking crew men before she reached the door. The support member threw her a crisp salute as the door opened. Her gaze focused on the individuals who had gathered. There were six in total. Including her. Earlier that day, she was expecting more, but Sira had corrected the mistakes. Those who weren’t present had been removed from the program and kept under ‘guard’.

There were two geth, a drell, a human, and a asari present. A combination of individuals like this would be impossible in other circumstances.

“Good to see all of you found your way here.” Sophia walked around the table until she came to a stop at the head. “I’m Captain Silversten. I don’t think I need to tell you all why you’re here. Out of the trillions that could have filled the very seats you occupy, they’ve been given to you. There is a new enemy upon us, an enemy we know nothing about. As members of Echelon, we will be the vanguard against the Legion. As they've already gone active, our work begins now."

Sophia took a seat in her chair as she reached over and pushed a button. The lights in the briefing room dimmed. In the middle of the table, a partition opened as a spherical metal grid revolved to reveal a hologram knob. With another press of a button, a display filled the table’s empty space with a mini galaxy map.

“We will now begin the briefing,” Sophia said. The galaxy map disappeared as a space station — a cylinder structure with a wide ring around its midsection — floated within the holograms display. “This is the J.S.S Armstrong. A human — turian platform. As of 0540 of last week, contact with the station has been lost. A turian insertion team was sent in. We haven’t heard from them since. Sira, enable the contingency A protocol.”

“Contingency A enabled, Captain.”

On the holograms screen, rectangles blinked into existence as a small line connected each to a different part of the space station. Within the rectangular box were four names made up of call signs. “We’ve been issued directives to personally intervene in this matter. As of now, reports are unsure of the reason why we’ve lost contact with the turian team or the station. Two possibilities: highly capable rogues or Legion.

“This operation will be carried with three teams: Eagle, Wolf, and Bear. Eagle will be comprised of myself, Prime, and Drake. Phalanx, Bastion, and Hunter will make up Wolf. A caveat for Wolf. Arterius will be heading you. I’ve explained the mission parameters to him. Lastly, Bear, comprised of support personnel, will keep our insertion point secured.

“Eagle will head towards the bridge. Our primary is to secure any video documentation and assess the immediate situation. Wolf will move through crew quarters and make their way towards the engineering bay. We’ll need those systems back online. Survivors are a secondary to both groups. The Directors and Council want this station kept intact. It’s our job to get it done.”

Pausing, she let the silence linger for a moment. Staring at the hologram, she finally looked towards all those sitting in the room. “Questions?”

Crimson stood in the briefing room patiently and quietly, keeping to himself, he took out his gun and checked it over, making sure it was up to snuff, checking the ammo and attachments to it. Crimsons attention was then drawn to the entrance of the briefing room, a female walked in, he seen some other crew members salute to her which could only mean she was of high ranking. Crimson put away his gun and saluted to her as well out of respect, she then later designated herself as Captain Silversten, the leader of their mission.

she then showed them a station of human and turian make, Crimson tilted his head slightly wondering as to why, but it was explained to them. After she had briefed them she asked if their were any questions, to which Crimson had something in mind.

Crimson stepped forward before speaking in his deep droning voice
"Silversten Captain, we have an inquiry" Crimson stated aloud to her as he looked down to her with his three glowing red eye's
"are their any fallback plans in place encase something were to go wrong" Crimson asked her, it's not that he didn't trust the lead or plan of Captain Silversten, but that in his past he had whole units scrapped because of good plans going bad in the worst of ways that no one expected

"do not get us wrong Silversten Captain, we only ask out of concern from past experiences" Crimson stated just to be clear with her in his deep droning voice as he looked down to her

Phalanx silently watched as other squad members entered the meeting room, the first being a armored Asari who gave a greeting. The Geth gave a respective nod in return before addressing in return as its blue glass eye glowed as it calculated information on this individual. "Greetings Arileth call sign Bastion. It is of great value to be coexisting on the same vessel." It spoke in its synthetic voice, its metal flaps around the eye moving ever so slightly.

As the others came in as well, Phalanx gave similar greetings to each of them, addressing their name and call sign. As the Captain entered however, the synthetic platform stood and gave a salute as well along with the taller Geth platform. It then waited patiently as it calculated the hologram while listening to the Captain's explanation of the plan.

It was then Prime decided to inquire their question after the explanation on a back up plan. It was not a bad question, though hopefully everything would go well.

"Armory and Engineering bay has connection of ventilation hatches that is accessible. Suggesting possible use for surprise reinforcements in case Eagle or Wolf are outnumbered. Possible use for survivors as well. I calculate hostile forces however will strongly take the bridge, armory, and Engineering to pirate information and weapons for themselves. Any prisoners most likely held in Armory or Engineering Bay for better cover." It suggested, it's blue eye looking at the Captain. Yet unlike the Prime Geth, Phalanx did not refer to itself as 'we' like many of its race. Though it may be unnoticeable to those not paying attention.

The Prime unit was the first to speak up. It did have a point. Or was it he or she? She wasn't sure due to our Geth units were given an extremely high level of intelligence and personality from the Reaper wars. She had read in the history books that almost every single sentient race were in uproar from the Commander's actions. However, though some still had trouble accepting their new allies, Sophia began to saw them as an asset. Given that two units made it through Echelon's screening, they must've had their merits.

Thinking carefully on what Prime voiced, a plan began to formulate. "In the unlikely chance that a fallback is necessary, you are all to make your way back to your insertion points. By all rights, they should be secured by Bear. However, as events change, it'd be best operating under the assumption that each landing zone is hot," she said. "In the unlikely chance that a landing zone becomes compromised, the shuttles have orders to relocate to the hangers. The schematics shows multiple choke points. Easily defensible and the middle of both objectives."

It was after she was done answering Prime's question that Phalanx chimed in. Sophia nodded in agreement. "To the best of my knowledge, the ventilation and many of the rooms contain sensors. Cameras for the rooms. When we activate engineering along with the bridge, we'll be able to utilize these to pinpoint any traffic areas. If there are survivors - or enemies - we'll know about it. As you said, Phalanx, we should consider both target areas hostile occupied."

Before she could go on, Sira materialized on her platform. "Pardon the intrusion Captain Silversten," said the AI. "There has been a change in personnel."

Sophia rose an eyebrow. Then looked to all whom were present. "Clarify."

"We have three more crew members joining us. They are headed for the ship now."

Sophia sighed as she activated her omni-tool and looked for updates. Low and behold, three names did show up. A Krogan, Drell, and then a blank. Why the hell was there a blank on the third name? Feeling frustration flush through her, Sophia deactivated her omni-tool. "Sira, guide them to the conference room immediately."

"Yes Captain."

Crimson looked to Phalanx when she began to speak, he respectfully listened to what she had to say, as she explained Crimson looked to the holo-map and seen what she was talking about. Phalanx's data was logical, the ventilation systems would be useful to bring in reinforcements if they needed them and safely take the prisoners to the shuttles if need be as well, and the enemy would most likely take control of the armory and engineering bay, while using prisoners as shields. Using the prisoners as shields was a good tactic on the enemy's side, but something about the thought them doing so just caused Crimson to slightly tighten his fists.

When Phalanx ended her statement Crimson looked to Captain Silversten as she began to answer his inquiry, as she spoke Crimson made sure to listen closely to every word, when she finished Crimson slightly nodded his head in approval of the fallback plan.
"we agree that this sounds like a solid fallback plan Silversten Captain, we thank you for answering our inquiry" Crimson droned out as he stepped back to allow others to go forward with any inquiry's of there own. As Captain Silversten acknowledged Phalanx's suggestion Crimson remained silent as he listened to Silversten, taking into note that they should treat both target area's as if they were occupied by hostiles.

As Crimson listened an A.I materialized on the platform, which caught his attention, it then spoke with Captain Silversten, informing her of three new crew members coming aboard. Crimson watched as Captain Sophia sighed before she turned on her omni-toolird, Crimson was certain it was to check the new crew members rosters, it seemed like the most logical conclusion, just from observing her facial features Crimson was able to see the frustration on her as she deactivated her omni-tool, before she spoke to the A.I again. Even though Crimson felt the need to ask if Captain Silversten was alright he did not do so, through his observations with sentient organic life forms, he concluded that most of the time it was best not to ask questions when one looked frustrated, so Crimson remained silent.

The hustle and bustle of the Cathedral roared on in the background of Roku's mind, his hear still pounding from his appointment to this new special ops group only two days ago. Roku pulled his hood tighter around his face wanting to ensure that he was not noticed by C-SEC or anyone else for that matter. He had spent many years doing behind the scenes work for the Salarian Union and in that time he had made enemies of almost every sentient species with an ambassador, especially those with ties to criminal organizations. With an almost instinctual response on these thoughts, Roku slid his hand over his M-11 Suppressor, as if he was expecting trouble to jump out around the next corner.

'The air in the room was thick with tension as Roku stood behind the desk of Dalatras Saeijo, one hand aiming his weapon towards the two STG agents and one hand working his Omni-Tool to ensure the data transfer from the Dalatrases personal network to his own carefully hidden off-station network. An almost pleasant smell pervaded the air as forced his entire body to not shake under the stress of the situation. With an almost unnatural grace and calm Dalatrass Saeijo walked through the door wearing a robe of muted cool colors of blue, purple and greens. Her eyes never moving never blinking as if she already knew how this situation would end.

"Agent Luut, could you please explain why you are accessing specifically restricted data from the Unions home network? What possible advantage could you gain from this fruitless endeavor?"

Roku kept darting his eyes back and forth from the Dalatrass to his Omni-Tool as it beeped at him of a 98% decryption and download, the shrill and almost harsh beeping.

"I have my reason Dalatrass, you should be more concerned about what I'm about to find out."

A child's laughter brought him back from his memory as had to avoid actually running into the small female. While he was lost in thought he had made his way down to the docks almost to the doors of the ship he was assigned to when he was stopped by a C-SEC officer. An audible sigh passed through the drells lips as the officer began his basic line of question.

"Sir there are no weapons allowed on the Cathedral, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me for questioning."

"I am currently on my way to leave so I'm afraid that I cannot accompany you."

"Really?..." the officer gave the drell a questioning look, a doubtful one Roku was sure. "...and where is it that you are going?"

"I'm afraid that is classified...please I am already late for my assignment."

"And what assignment could possibly have you going to a restricted dock?"

"My assignment came from Dalatrass Saeijo so if you have any questions the orders should be coming through any moment. Good day officer."

Without giving the officer any more time to respond Roku turned and walked away leaving the officer almost dumbfounded. As the officer began to give chase a beeping could be heard on his Omni-Tool, and as Roku rounded the corner to enter the vessel he could hear the words 'STG' come from his lips as a smile crossed Roku's. 'That never gets old'.

As Roku went through the process of entering the ship, he made his way through the CIC into the 'War Room' as it were and took stock of those that were there. Among those that caught his eye were two Geth units an Asari and a female human, the commander Roku assumed. As he approached his new commanding officer Roku eyed the Prime unit, something about the Geth unnerved him, but seeing as how he unnerved others he shouldn't be one to judge.

"Roku Luut reporting in commander."