Hey guys, I'm back! So some good news and some bad news. Bad news first: My computer died about a month ago. Air conditioner fell out of my window while I was at work and sprayed it with water. Good news, all it needed was a new battery which is now installed. What that means, however, is the next chapter might take a little longer to write. I've got the fic on google docs now, so if this happens again I can just keep writing on my phone. More good news, I remembered that I have a copy of the Halo Encyclopedia, which makes finding info so much easier than digging online. So, good on me from a decade ago for buying that.

Now for some review answers.

Blaze1992: The SOF will be able to make pretty much every unit/vehicle it could in the games. I might not use all of them, but the ship can make them.

Christinedbadia5: Yes, Chief will have his own private conversation with Red team. As for Infinity, not for a long time, if ever. As for Serina, I gave my reason at the start of chapter 1. She essentially turned herself "off" because I feel like the 7 year limit is based on operational time, not overall passage thereof.

Cheerfullygrim: It's more a scare tactic to get him to talk. IDK I was a Combat Engineer, not Psy Ops.

Reclusiarch Grimaldus: I was actually going to have it be a massive byte size. Like, more than petaflop. Until my more computer savvy housemate informed me that Wikipedia is barely a terabyte in size, while the internet is massive, like the extranet would be. So the Codex is small, but requires a lot of translation.

Mr. Dumbstruck: ;)))) On the nose.

Saren Arterius stood on the bridge of the Salarian Union Vessel Maleovani, a Salarian Special Tasks Group frigate, in his black and grey armor. His clawed hands clasped behind his back as he watched the Salarian crew work as they exited the Mass Relay into the Osun system of the Hourglass Nebula. The ship, despite being operated and owned by the STG, was flagged as hailing from Omega, giving them the perfect cover for which to operate without implicating the Citadel. It was, as he was learning, one of many such ships, corporations, and mercenary groups secretly run by the STG.

His face itched from the removal of his colonial tattoos, and he resisted the urge to scratch. Saren felt that, as a SPECTRE, he could not show such allegiance. No, he would suffer being a 'bare face'. His loyalty was to the Turian people, not to any one colony. He distracted himself with the thought of how he had gotten to this point, as it was hard to believe that only a few months ago he had been hunting down terrorists and Separatists as a part of the Turian Hierarchy's Blackwatch when he had gotten the orders: Link up with a Council SPECTRE, assist them as needed to complete objectives. Simple.

He had done exactly that, ruthlessly an efficiently. So much so that he had caught the interest of the SPECTRE to the point where they had offered to mentor him. Guide him down the path of becoming a SPECTRE himself. He had all but jumped at the opportunity. Saren had but one mission in his life: The survival and advancement of Turiankind. He would sacrifice anyone, and anything, to ensure that. As a Council SPECTRE, he could ensure that that mission would always be his priority.

He was nearing the end of his evaluation after months of missions. Raids, assassinations, VIP captures, intelligence gathering, political negotiations. As for now, this mission was simply to repay a debt, something his mentor stressed. Debts paid made things simple, and could on occasion be brought around to others owing you debts. Which always made the job easier.

He was brought back to the present when he heard his name called by one of the crew, "Lieutenant Arterius, the captain needs you for the mission brief. Please meet him in the briefing room."

He nodded and walked off towards the briefing room in the center of the ship. There he found captain Reskol waiting for him with the now familiar sight of his SPECTRE mentor. "Captain. Vasir."

"Good of you to finally join us, Saren. We'll be dropping out of FTL soon and the captain here wants to go over the mission… again." Vasir cast an annoyed glance at the STG captain.

The Asari SPECTRE stood only a few centimeters short of 2 meters, her face which seemed to always have a mischievous smirk on it, was dotted by purple facial tattoos. She was decked out in her signature look: Serrice heavy armor, colored a deep blue, with an M-11 Wraith folded at the small of her back. Tela Vasir, like all Asari, was a biotic. However what set her apart from most of her sisters was that she was a brawler. She'd charge in, using her biotics to close the distance on her targets before blasting them with that shotgun of hers. Saren had seen the high risk tactics work all too often the past few months.

"My apologies. I was watching the bridge crew work. Shall we, captain?" Saren gave the STG captain a respectful bow of his head.

Captain Reskol was possibly the most nondescript Salarian Saren had ever seen. Which came as no surprise seeing as he was a member of the STG. He may not have been a Turian, but the captain wasn't one to shirk away from adversity, something Saren could respect. "Yes, let us. First off I wish to once again thank the Council for assisting the STG in this matter. It may not seem like it, but missions such as this one are of great importance to the safety of Citadel space."

He brought up an image of the base site, taken by an STG probe less than 24 hours prior from the planet Daratar in the Faryar system of the Hourglass nebula. The base was fairly standard. A central building surrounded by six sniper towers and a pair of rocket turrets situated in a wide, flat plain. Off to one side an area had been cleared of rocks and other obstructions to allow for the landing and takeoff of small space craft. All on an inhospitable rock that despite having a thin oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, was far too cold for a colony and lacked the natural resources to make it viable to investors. Thus it had been left for pirates to infest.

"Now, as you know we are here on a destabilization and intelligence gathering mission. Our goal is to wipe out this pirate base, here on the second planet of the system. The leader of these pirates is one Cassius Gendoulus." With a swipe of his omni tool an orange hologram of a Turian appeared before them. His dark face marked by green tattoos.

"The STG believes that he is the orchestrator of at least 3 raids on Citadel colonies, and is organizing his largest yet. He has gathered together a number of ships, as many as 16 combat ships, along with support and landing craft, mercenaries and troops promised from allies amongst the Terminus systems numbering in the thousands.

We are not sure which colony he plans to attack, but we have have narrowed it down to a trio of colonies along the border. Unfortunately, with how close these systems are to the Terminus, the Citadel cannot simply park three fleets there and wait without possibly lighting off a war. We need to find out which one exactly it is before he can launch his attack. And if we get lucky, he'll be there for us to capture or kill. Get in, get the information, and kill everyone there. Simple." He brought the image of the base back.

"As far as we can tell their only ship not taking part in the attack, an old Guardian class Hierarchy Frigate, has been out running pirate actions for the past two weeks and isn't expected back for another few days." The Guardian class frigate, once the mainstay of the Turian fleets, had been retired nearly 40 years ago. The ships had strong shield generators and powerful engines which made them effective in Varren pack formations, massing their combined firepower to take on larger and more powerful ships. If the ship returned earlier than expected and caught the Salarian vessel in the planets gravity well, then they could be in trouble. The Salarians built their ships for scouting, not for the stand up fights that the Turians built theirs for. The pirates had more than likely pulled it out of the shipbreaking yards on Korlus, or some similar planet that collected the junk of the galaxies navies.

"Saren, you and SPECTRE Vasir will lead the assault force. There are multiple sniper towers surrounding the base perimeter, along with two rocket towers. The Maleovani will make an in atmosphere bombing run to clear the rockets, but your teams will be responsible for the snipers. Make sure there are no survivors. From there we will breach -"

"Captain!" the voice of one of the bridge crew came over the briefing room speakers. "We have new images from the probe. You're going to want to see this, sir."

"Bring it on screen, Commander." Reskol ordered as the three stared at the new image in front of them. The previous image had showed the long shadows of the pair of rocket turrets and the six towers that surrounded the squat base, now the screen showed the base covered in thick black smoke that poured out of the turrets. One of the towers was knocked on its side and the probe's camera could even pick out bodies littering the ground around the towers.

Saren and Vasir shared a glancing look as the captain spoke, "This changes nothing. Lieutenant Saren, SPECTRE, secure the site and find what evidence you can as to who did this. If there are any survivors, eliminate them."

"Understood, captain." Saren said before following Vasir out of the briefing room. "What do you think, Vasir?" He asked as they moved down the stairs to the small armory where the mixed assault force of Salarians and Turians were gathered.

"Like the good captain said, nothing changes. Except this'll be a lot less fun."

[Planetside]

The shuttle they took down was cramped, to say the least. Even with the assault force split between two of the boxy shuttles there wasn't much room to maneuver. The craft rocked as it entered the planets atmosphere, muting the murmured conversations within. Saren was now standing next to one of the shuttles doors, face to face with Vasir. "Any idea who it might have been?"

Vasir shrugged, "Could be anyone. Rival mercs, Huntresses, your people. Fuck, could have been another SPECTRE. Won't know till we get down there."

They spent the rest of the descent in silence until the pilot warned they were coming in for their landing. Saren turned to the rest of his team, a collection of hand-picked Turian soldiers and Salarian specialists and gave the order to don their helmets. With a hiss of escaping air the shuttle door slid open and Saren dropped to the ground, weapon up and ready as the rest followed him. The sandy ground crunched beneath his boots as he cautiously moved up. The shuttle had dropped them 100 yards from the perimeter of the base, a precaution in case whatever had attacked the pirates was hiding in the smoke. The suits filters did an excellent job of filtering out the acrid smells of smoke and whatever explosives the attackers had used.

Saren had advanced about 50 meters before he came upon the first evidence of who may have struck here. He knelt in the dirt as the rest of the teams continued forward to sweep the area, a gauntleted finger tracing around the shape of a boot print. As he looked around he saw five sets of prints, spread out in a defensive semi-circle, as well as two sets of truly massive prints that must have come from some sort of mechanized support. Behind the prints the dirt was swept out from the jet wash of the craft that had borne the attackers. He looked up, his eyes casting around as Vasir walked up behind him, the heavily armored SPECTRE taking a knee and bringing her helmet close to his so they could speak without using the radios. "All the bodies belong to the pirates. A couple of them even had small bounties on them. You find anything?"

Saren gestured to the boot prints, "Too long and narrow to be Batarian, too wide and varied in size to be Asari. And these…" He pointed at the massive prints, "I've never seen a mech with that foot pattern."

"So… what? You think this could be a new species? If it was we'd have seen a ship in orbit, or caught the Eezo signature. They wouldn't just hit and run." Vasir shook her head, this couldn't be the work of Huntresses. Huntresses didn't launch air strikes on heavily fortified positions. They'd have lured the pirates out, hit them with snipers or ambushes. Standard procedure when facing a larger force.

"Not unless they thought these weren't pirates." Saren stood and walked forward, following the path of imprints the boots left in the dirt. A glint of light on the ground caught his attention and knelt again. A small cylinder, made of some brass alloy, shined half buried in the dirt. He turned it over in his hand. One end was open while the other was capped, a tiny dent in its center with small indecipherable runes ringing the bottom of the capped end.

7.62 x 51 mm

As he looked around again he saw more and more of the brass casings scattered around, many in shallow piles or spread out in a line. 'Did their weapons not use the Mass Effect?' He thought as he dropped the casing back into the sand.

He stood and moved towards the fallen tower. As he neared he could see the various holes piercing the metal, grouped together in tight bunches. "Whomever this was, whatever weapons they used, they were accurate. Disciplined." He looked at the base of the tower which had been blasted apart by some sort of missile or rocket, causing it to topple. The sniper must have survived the fall, and attempted to take cover behind the fallen tower.

"So not mercs, Huntresses, or SPECTREs. Great. Come on, let's look inside. Maybe one of them bought it, and we'll get a body to investigate." Vasir stepped away, walking towards the base proper as she called out for everyone to stack up at the door. Saren turned away from the fallen towers and followed Vasir to the door.

With a nod from the SPECTRE one of the Turians hit the green access button and the door slid open. Saren was the first through the door and thus first to see the body embedded into the opposite wall, it's legs dangling off the ground and torso almost doubled over. Saren slowly walked up to the body as the rest of the team filled the antechamber, covering the far door. The body belonged to a Batarian, it's shotgun dangling from its fingertips. It's chest had been caved in and rust brown blood dripped down into a semi-coagulated puddle. Judging by the imprint in the armor it belonged to one of the mechs Saren suspected the attackers had brought with them. He turned and watched a Salarian scan a dead Turian who laid next to the door he had entered from, the Turian's visor had been smashed and the back of it blown out, gore splashed against the wall at head height. He looked further and saw a third body slumped against the far wall next to the door leading to the main area, another Turian whose chest armor was filled with holes that leaked blue blood. Saren's eyes drifted to the floor, searching. He saw a small pile of the brass casings that had rolled to the wall.

"Enter the next room. Follow your orders." He growled out. A fireteam of Turians moved to the door and took position. In one fluid movement they swept through the door, quickly followed by the rest as they gave the all clear. Saren and Vasir walked in together, eyes scanning the room. More brass covered the floor, the still bodies of the pirate defenders lay where they had fallen as the assault force swept through the cavernous room and around the crates of various stolen loot. One body in particular stood out: An Asari leaning against a crate with her left arm severed below the elbow and her skull caved in by some sort of small bladed weapon.

Blood pooled under the bodies. Asari and Turian blue, Batarian rust red, Salarian green, but one color stood out to him. A splash of deep red, far too dark to be Batarian blood. It arced outwards behind a container, a bullet hole in the floor nearby told of a sniper shot that found flesh. "Vasir, here. Red blood."

The two knelt to examine the blood stain, Vasir bringing up her Omni tool to run a scan. "Yep. Doesn't match with any known Council encountered species. We have some unknowns on our hands."

Saren ignored her, looking around the immediate vicinity. A gunshot wound should have left more blood, yet there were no discarded bandages. No small pools of blood as the wounded fighter was administered to. No blood trail if they were dragged away to be cared for elsewhere. He looked behind him, and his eyes caught a shadow on shadow underneath the lip of a stack of crates. A dark grey metal cylinder with a cone like bottom and a long prong like device at the other end had rolled, or been tossed, underneath the crate.

He reached out, the three fingers of his hand struggling for a moment get a good enough grip to pull it out from under the crate. Now freed he turned it over in his hands, looking over a large white label covered in more of the strange runes, partially covered by a five fingered glove print stamped in that same red blood. His eyes flicked between two symbols, one a pair of eel or snake like creatures winding up a winged staff and the other an avian with spread wings above a globe. He ran a finger along the prong, noticing a small hole in the trapezoidal end that was covered in a hardened foam. The Citadel had been trying for hundreds of years to achieve an effective foam based wound sealant for even a single species without much to show for it. Yet here in his hands was the obvious evidence that this unknown species had succeeded where the Citadel had failed.

"SPECTRE, Lieutenant! Up here." The call came from one of the Turians sweeping the second floor. Saren stepped around the crate, the grey cylinder still in his hand. He looked up, seeing the soldier standing at the railing, waving for them to come up. He and Vasir walked to their left, to the doorway that held the stairs to the second floor. They passed a Salarian slumped against the wall at the base of the steps and a Turian laying face down halfway up, the blood trail clearly showing that he had slid partway down after being shot. They trotted up the stairs to find the Turian who had called them standing next to the body of a Turian with dark plates and green facial markings. "Our target, sir, ma'am."

Cassius Gendoulus' arms were at his sides, twisted and broken at wrong angles, a sniper rifle lay nearby with its barrel bent like a piece of rebar. The Turian's armor looked like someone had taken a pile driver to it. Cracks and large fist shaped dents covered the sides of the armor, the chest caved in. Saren and Vasir stared at the body of their target in silence for what seemed like an eternity until Saren broke the silence. "We should finish the mission and make our report. Before whoever did this comes back."

Vasir's eyes slid to the side, her voice taking on a mocking tone. "You scared, Saren?"

Saren didn't even look at her, keeping his eyes on the dead Turian in front of him. "Cautious. Whoever this is, they assaulted this place with a squad and two mechs. We predicted that we'd need at least platoon strength to take this base, with predicted 15% casualties. These unknowns seem to have done it with just a single injury. They are obviously skilled infantryman. I'd rather our first contact with this species not result in a firefight. One I'm not sure we'd win."

Vasir responded with a grunt and turned away, walking down the hall to the door at the end. The door slid open at her approach and the Salarian specialist sitting at the console didn't even look up. "Well, what have we got?" She asked, walking around the table to stand behind him.

"The information we're looking for is heavily encrypted, I can't crack it here. This guy was seriously paranoid about protecting this data. We need to pass this off to Section II." The Salarian frowned as the computer spat back an error message that his shunt program had failed to break through the encrypted firewalls.

"The only other possibly important thing is a record of them contacting their ship to checkout a strange signal in the Ploitari system. It wasn't on any of the usual emergency bands, so it could have been from our unknowns. Could this have been an ambush, perhaps?"

Saren shook his head, "No, an ambush only makes sense if these unknowns knew these pirates were out here."

"So what are you suggesting, that these unknowns responded to the same signal, encountered the pirate's ship - a last gen Turian frigate, beat it, and then somehow tracked it back here where they launched an assault?" Vasir raised a painted eyebrow as she looked across the room at Saren.

"If they incapacitated the ship, got into its navigational banks…" Saren started to say before Vasir interrupted him.

"We both saw those casings, Saren. This species hasn't even figured out how to use the Mass Effect in small arms, if they know about it all all. There is no way a single ship without the Mass Effect could beat one with it. It would take a small fleet! Do you not remember what happened to the Corotans?" The room had grown a silent tension that could be felt between the mentor and student. Vasir stood up straight and walked back around the desk to stand face to face with Saren.

"We need to get back to Citadel space and crack this encryption before they launch their raid. That's our mission and I won't delay that and risk lives chasing after a species that probably just stumbled onto the Mass Effect. Now, get your men back to the shuttles."

Saren could feel the rage bubbling inside him, but through sheer force of will he kept his features impassive as he spoke, "And if this was a test?"

"A test?" She laughed, a cold laugh. "You never do give up, do you?"

"Wasn't that part of why you wanted me to join the SPECTRES? I believe your exact words were, 'Grabs onto a mission like a Varren to a hunk of meat. Tenacious to the very end.' What if this was a test of weapons and ship capability, tactics. The only way they would have known these pirates were here, was if they got the ships logs. If they got that, then they more than likely have a copy of the Codex as well. Which means they have all the knowledge of our galaxy once they can translate it. You say they're aren't advanced enough, but did your people not say the same about the Rachni? The Krogan? Are you willing to risk that all again?"

Saren watched as Vasir's jaw worked before she spoke, "Alright, we'll check it out. But if it looks like a trap, we're not waiting around to find out. Get your men back to the shuttles." She brought up her Omni tool and keyed the radio. "Captain Reskol, hook us into a comm buoy and send the nav point I'm transmitting. I want reinforcements on the way before we plot a course for that signal. SPECTRE authority."

With a triumphant nod Saren turned and rallied his men, leading them back to the shuttles. In less than half an hour they were back on the Maleovani and jumping to FTL. Saren spent the next few hours pacing about the bridge, drawing glares from the crew.

Who were this new species, who didn't use the Mass Effect yet beat a force who did? It shouldn't be possible. He remembered the species that Vasir had mentioned, the Corotans. A species that had managed the most basic of Eezo engines to allow them FTL space flight, but yet still used simple magnetic accelerators for their ship weapons and personal arms. They had begun their expansion into the stars only to be conquered by one of the Terminus' various empires. Their ships hadn't stood a chance, as their weapons rarely had the energy to best even a Frigates kinetic barriers, succeeding only when they ganged up in large numbers. Their resistance had been futile in the end and they were conquered before the Council even knew they existed. When the Council found out, they had been outraged. One of the few treaties with the Terminus systems that they actually tended to follow was an agreement to notify the Council upon any first contact with a new species.

Perhaps Vasir was right, and this had been a small fleet working together, instead of a single ship. He was brought out of his thoughts by an alarm announcing their exit from FTL. They would be dropping approximately a million kilometers from the signals source. Neither the Captain nor Vasir were willing to risk being any closer.

"Sensors, run an active scan." Captain Reskol sat in his crash couch, eyes flicking over the data readout.

"Sir, sensors are picking up three ship profiles at a million kicks. One of them matches the profile for a Guardian class frigate. The other two do not match any known profiles. Scans place them at 240 meters and…" The sensor officers words caught in his throat. "Two point five kilometers, sir."

"That's impossible. The Destiny Ascension is the largest ship in the galaxy, and it's one and a half kilometers long!" Vasir, who had been leaning against a bulkhead, stomped over to the sensor officer to read the incoming data herself.

"The scanners don't lie, SPECTRE. Mark the larger unknown as Alpha, the other Bravo. Eezo readings?" Reskol was now standing, rubbing his chin as more data came in.

"Only from the frigate, sir. The unknown ships show no signs of element zero."

The captain closed his eyes for a moment before letting out a hefty sigh. "Helm, bring us to 100,000 kilometers from the unknowns. Prep First Contact packages, when we hit the our demarcation line, hail the unknowns on all open channels. SPECTRE…" He turned to Vasir, "As a representative of the Council, you will be responsible for making First Contact until a proper envoy can be dispatched."

Vasir sneered at the captain. "And as an Asari, I can meld with them to assist with translating, is that right Captain?"

"Good, you already know your job. I was afraid that I might have to explain it to you." Reskol cooly responded. There was a slight shudder of the deck below their feet as the ship accelerated to bring them closer.

Vasir moved to stand next to Saren, crossing her arms over her chest. "This can't be the ones who attacked our pirates. No Eezo, no FTL. These ships are too far away from the base to be our culprits."

Saren said nothing, but his mandibles betrayed his frustration. This didn't make any sense.

"Captain! Alpha is accelerating away from us." The call came from the helm, "We're faster than them, sir. We'll catch up. Don't know where their going, but they're angled out of system."

"And what of Bravo?"

"Staying still, sir. We're coming up on its rear, but scans show it cold. No engine activity or power."

'Where are they going?' Saren thought to himself as he stepped up to the helm, leaning over the Salarian as he watched the ship slowly grow in the window as they approached the ship at its four O'clock position. He turned, his fingers dancing across the holographic keyboard at one of the stations next to the helm to bring up an image of Alpha from the forward facing cameras. He zoomed in as much as he could until he found what he was looking for. An image of an avian like creature above a globe, the same runes and symbols from the canister of foam lined the side of the ship near the fore in what could only be a name.

CFV-88

UNSC SPIRIT OF FIRE

"How much further?" He asked the helmsman, his eyes still on the image as he drank in the details of the ship. Grey, angled armor, bristling with turrets and gun emplacements, the ship itself looking like a massive floating rifle. This had to be the unknowns. Could it have been possible that they had found a way to achieve Faster Than Light travel without the use of Element Zero? No, it went against all laws of physics. It was impossible. Wasn't it?

"Under 300,000 kilometers till hail distance. We'll be there in a couple of min- Wait, what is- Radiation spike in front of Alpha! Spatial anomaly detected!" The helmsman shouted, alarms blaring about the bridge as Saren snapped his head up from the screen to the window. Kilometers in front of Alpha was the strangest sight he had seen in his nineteen years of life. At first glance it looked like a small black hole, pitch black except for the violet-blue tendrils that swirled about it. He was jostled as Vasir and Reskol pushed into the helm in order to see.

"Hail them now!" Reskol shouted, keeping his large Salarian eyes on the anomaly as the response came: their hails were not being answered. Either the fleeing ship used a different means of communication then the Maleovani's, as the Rachni had thousands of years prior, or they were simply being ignored as it made its escape.

The watched together, mouths agape as the anomaly grew till it was large enough to swallow Alpha whole. The watched as the alien ship entered the anomaly, watching as it collapsed behind the ship, leaving not a trace besides a small burst of radiation that quickly dissipated. The bridge was quiet except for the ever present hum of the ship. It was Vasir who broke the silent shock of the crew.

"What. The. Fuck."