'So let me get this straight,' John said, trying to keep most of the contempt out of his voice, 'after the footage of the battle at the Citadel; the testimonies of Commander Shepard's team, myself, Lieutenant Esone, and 042; and the presence of an honest-to-Sol Prothean warrior, you still think the Reapers are a fairy tale.'<br/><br/>The Admiralty Board looked sheepishly at him. One of them spoke up. 'Commander, as extensive as your evidence is, there are a number of perfectly reasonable counter-points to your findings. The ship, Sovereign, could well have been an experimental Geth warship.'<br/><br/>042 twitched.<br/><br/>'Your testimonies and armorcam footage may have recorded falsehoods, as well. The Collectors may have been a cult or deliberately sowing lies.'<br/><br/>What.<br/><br/>'Furthermore, your Prothean has been in cryo for thousands of years. We have no idea how the Exalted work nor do we know the effects of extended hibernation on his sanity or memory. Furthermore, we have no hard evidence that he understands modern languages sufficiently to accurately relay his knowledge of the past. We need more than just verbal testimony and shaky armorcam footage, Commander. We require hard evidence before we commit the resources Commander Shepard, Admiral Anderson, Admiral Hackett, and yourself request. We are not the Turian Hierarchy. Humanity's resources are far too limited to spend chasing ghost stories. We have Cerberus raiding our fringe colonies, Terminus pirates harassing our shipping lanes, and a far, far more limited budget than most of the Council species.'<br/><br/>John facepalmed. Reasonable points, but still bullshit. He was glad Javik wasn't present in the courtroom because he probably would have gutted the fat one to make a point. 'Admiral, be that as it may, my team and Dr. Liara T'soni uncovered a cache of Prothean artifacts and data explicitly tied to the Reaper War. She is, quite literally, on Mars<span style="font-style: italic">at</span>the Prothean Archives translating them as we speak.'<br/><br/>The admiral who spoke previously, a younger, bearded man of Arabic descent, seemed placated by this. 'Very well, Commander.<span style="font-style: italic">If</span>Dr. T'soni's studies yield results, then we may consider diverting our attention to the "Reaper" threat. Otherwise, we can only<span style="font-style: italic">publicly</span>authorize support for counter-terrorism and counter-piracy operations.'<br/><br/>Publicly. Now<span style="font-style: italic">that</span>was a curious choice of words. That indicated that some of the Admiralty Board supported Shepard, but it also meant one of two things: they were in the minority or the Board was at a stalemate. At least he knew where the black ops money was coming from. John sighed. It wasn't much, but it was a start.<br/><br/>'Very well, Admiral,' John said, keeping up a facade of defeat. He also had to concede the fact that the Exalted were a dangerous presence in the galaxy. Their abilities made controlling them difficult and the allure of piracy, crime, and terrorism only made the Exalted more terrifying. The Exalted could sway the masses, take on armies, and craft weapons of mass destruction. In their place, he, too, would likely consider the Exalted the most immediate concern. But he wasn't in their place. He, Hackett, and the people actually on the ground knew the score.<br/><br/>The Admiralty Board reached a final verdict. 'Very well, then. We shall wait for Dr. T'soni's research to be recorded in full before committing the fleets. Until then, the Alliance's priorities shall remain unchanged. This meeting is adjourned.'<br/><br/>With a sigh of exasperation, John bowed and led his ground team out of the courtroom. Shepard and Anderson greeted him as he exited the door. He was glad to see that the Commander had cleaned up since their vid-comm call.<br/><br/>'John,' she said, 'Admiralty problems?'<br/><br/>He chuckled darkly. 'As expected. You're up on the chopping block next?'<br/><br/>'You know it.'<br/><br/>He shook his head. 'This is bogus. All of it. Whatever happens, we've got your back, Shepard.'<br/><br/>The two traded a fist bump. 'Likewise, John. I should go. The trial's starting in a few.'<br/><br/>John nodded and with a belated salute to her and Anderson, he continued down through the adjacent offices to the elevator. Two more old faces showed up along the way--Kaidan Alenko, who looked incredibly sour today, and James Vega, Alliance Marine.<br/><br/>'Hey, Juanito,' James said, greeting John with a high five. 'Dude, you two know Shepard?'<br/><br/>'Used to,' Alenko said.<br/><br/>John raised an eyebrow. 'Know her? I served with her. Hell, we fought during the Blitz way back when.'<br/><br/>'Must have been a hell of a ride. I bet you let her take point all the time, eh?' James bobbed his eyebrows, making an hourglass gesture.<br/><br/>'Please, Jimmy, I'm a gentleman. Of course I took point.'<br/><br/>'Ah,' said James, 'so<span style="font-style: italic">she</span>wanted to get a good look at<span style="font-style: italic">you</span>.'<br/><br/>John tried and failed to find the words to respond to something that absurd. The elevator pinged before he could formulate a comeback. Ground floor: more offices, more clerks, and a Spacey's restaurant. They got halfway to Spacey's when the Reapers' preliminary bombardment began.<br/><br/>A great beam of crimson hellfire struck a nearby motor pool. The resulting explosion and secondaries shook the ground, shattered the transparisteel windows, and hurled debris to and fro. Many of the Alliance personnel on the ground died crushed by the rubble or with broken necks and spines. A colossal soulsteel leg slammed into the ground, churning up concrete and shaking the earth further. From the Reaper's eye leaked a small waterfall of blood, lubricant, coolant, and pus. The faces of the screaming damned flickered across its abominable hull plating and from its body, husks sloughed off like molted snakeskin. Across the world, the husks began to bray, screaming for the flesh and souls of the living. Their ululating calls echoed from the streets and the surface, audible from low atmo. In the space above, the First, Second, and Fourth Fleets scrambled desperately to meet the invasion while the colossal mass drivers of orbital defense stations thundered away. As John looked out at the sky, he saw thousands upon thousands more comets darting towards the surface, the orbital entry flares of the Neverborn and their servants. Blood rained down in a sickly torrent on a scale beyond that which the Mask of Winters had brought. Vermin filled the streets. Soon, the smoke and dust churned up by the fire and fighting would fill the sky, plunging Earth into darkness. The end of the world had begun.