3 months after Reaper Invasion
The ride into London was a death sentence, and Cassela Develd knew it with every fiber in her being. But she refused to succumb to anything the Reapers threw in her way. Earth wasn't a planet she visited frequently in her time, but dealt with humans regularly on Illium before the Reapers arrived. Now Earth was Ground Zero in the fight for the Galaxy. Witnessing her home Thessia fall was enough to go to any planet necessary to quell the Reapers-a thought that ran through every asari's mind when Thessia was lost. The transport hub dubbed its signature Alliance logo, albeit having been burned off by enemy fire. With each searing roar of the Reapers energy laser tearing through their defenses, a hard jolt rocked the Alliance cruiser, causing at least one of the N7 veterans to void their lunches. Cassela was sitting strapped into her seat holding on with each lurch, but with her thoughts elsewhere.
"Cassela?" the N7 Paladin by the name of Sean Williams asked in a defeated tone, trying to gain her attention. Sean was a smart kid, able to hack any account, whether it is base, bank, or even Council. He had a medium build and scruffy hair with a square jaw and scruffy fuzz aligning his face. Cassela didn't bother at all with a response. He doubted she even heard him.
To no avail, Sean leaned back in his seat and gripped his Mantis rifle with crushing force as they grew nearer to their destination: a city block that was rumored to carry vital indoctrination equipment that was so carefully guarded by Reaper ground forces, Alliance personnel was ordered to do fly-byes of the area so any blind spots were found would be taken. The pilot told Sean very carefully before take-off to not predict their odds of surviving, because any low number he could muster was probable and would demoralize their fight.
Cassela fuddled with her Phaeston assault rifle before leaning back in her seat and holding the tears as another force of enemy fire shook the cruiser. Any and all attempts of getting her mind off of what was happening around her failed on arrival and not even the comfort of her friend Sean had broken through the barrier. The only thought that took away the anxiety for just a moment was the speculation of what Ereba was doing…No. No she couldn't think of her right now, and not of Charr. She clenched her fists and fought the urge to punch the cruisers hull. Any memories that came to her only brought her suffering.
But what of the human Spectre that reportedly gathering assets and finishing that damned Crucible that was such a pain to build? She had thought to herself in any attempt to reconcile what was coming. Liara T'soni, one of her former Illium associates and reported squad mate of the Spectre , had promised that the Crucible was a last ditch effort that was intended to stop the Reapers. Goddesses guide me; let her be right she begged in her mind.
"We're coming up on our destination. ETA five minutes" Admiral Hackett flatly said over the com.
An N7 Destroyer by the name of Patrick Weeks cracked his neck from side to side and chuckled. He was seated farther away from Sean and Cassela but everything these soilders said was audible. Patrick was another friend of Sean and Cassela, and was known for his ruthless disdain of Reapers. He was known as "The Human Brute" around his Alliance base down in Rio. He had a shaved head and wild green eyes. It didn't come as a surprise to Cassela that anything that had to do with blowing Reapers to a human sub-realm called "Hell" would be an exciting time for him. Both Patrick and Sean had been Alliance grunts since the days of dealing with Omegas gangs via insider moles back in Cassela's dealings with Eclipse. She couldn't afford to think of that moment now, not with their destination-and fate-approaching at what seemed to be hours instead of five minutes.
"And just what do you think…" Cassela drearily said to Patrick and she was holding back bile from the crushing anxiety, "…is so amusing?"
"The chance to play whack-o-mole with husks one by one" he responded. "Think about it Cassela. This area is practically a funnel for any Reaper fucking stupid enough to get in our line of fire. These pussies don't have a chance."
Cassela couldn't make out what half of what Patrick was saying as usual. Most likely well known human terms she reminded herself. Another wave of lurches came, but Cassela was far too focused to notice…or care. She looked up from her daze and finally started to focus on those around her. She saw Patrick and Sean clip on their helmets and watched as those who vomited in theirs quickly started to clean before finally clipping on themselves.
"ETA: one minute everybody." Hackett announced on com. "This extraction team is vital in the war against the Reapers and in the fight for London. Reaper ground forces are not only blocking an entrance to refugee camps situated on a block five miles from here, but are preparing to use reported indoctrination devices on those who cannot escape. Our plan is to locate those devices and forces, wipe them out, and then report the refugees back to the Citadel."
"You call this a challenge?" Cassela heard Patrick mutter.
"Maybe not for you" Cassela informed him. "But to the rest of us, fighting Reapers isn't exactly on top of our list of preferred things to do on our spare time."
"If you know how to use a gun, you can make it that way" he said matter-of-factly.
Cassela chuckled. "If only we had your attitude that Reaper killing is a sport instead of a survival tactic…it would make it so much easier."
The last few seconds to the destination were silent as they reached the city block. The pilot flew the cruiser onto a surrounding corporate rooftop near the extraction point and personally distributed datapads to give a summary of the situation and surrounding area. Cruisers and Makos were strewn about the streets, with some crashed into entertainment centers and others lying still and on fire from previous battles. Rubble blocked certain areas where accessibility would have been useful in the fight, with dismembered bodies of husks, N7 troopers, and other ground forces. A chunk of an apartment building had been blown clean off, as rubble served as a sort of stair-way to access the visible apartments. This would be useful for the Sniper platoon. Five Brutes were stumbling around the area keeping watch, while a horde of Cannibals shifted through the rubble for survivors.
"Christ Almighty..." Patrick whispered. He looked up from the datapad and bore his eyes into Cassela's and Sean's reactions.
"On a scale of one to ten…" Sean began to Cassela, "one being that we lose a few limbs and walk away, to ten where we are completely and utterly fucked from here to high-water, how do you rate our chances?"
"Did you not hear the pilot?" Cassela asked him, "Rule number one of getting out of this alive…don't rate your chances."
Sean sighed and leaned back in his seat again. Patrick gripped the hold of his seat strap as the cruiser and Cassela closed her eyes and begun her reflections as the cruiser lurched forward off the rooftop and begun its descent into the unknown.