The ground shook, pebbles rolling down hills of collapsed ruin, the very dust hopping every few seconds as a rhythmic thump echoed through the air and a beat was felt in the ground. Hearing this, Conrad Verner gripped his rifle tight to his chest and pulled his charges close. A group of asari and salarian children separated from their families and now likely orphaned in the war, the small group of four crowded around the dirty human who'd stepped directly in front of the Marauder to save them from discovery, had taken three shots to the shoulder and arm in their defense. Their eyes alight with fear, they felt the ground tremble as repeated thumps seemed to echo in the canyon of ruins around their little bolt hole hiding place.
Conrad barely let a small "shhh!" escape as he eased forward to peer around the embankment he was cowering behind, sure that he'd never let the children be hurt while he lived. He'd been taught that by…
"..pard.."
A low hum was developing in the walls, seeming to make everything hum as though in the wash of a large vehicle taking off. The wall two meters away settled with the hum minutely before finally collapsing under the strain, a cloud of dust washing over the small group and making the smallest of the asari start to cough. Her sister, "of sorts.", Conrad mentally added, clapped her on the shoulder and ducked their heads together to keep the dust from hurting their eyes. The salarian brothers of sorts looked on him nervous silence, their near silent communication over the last week having been a series of hums and attentive glances finally breaking as the older said, "This is different, too regular for groups, maybe heavy units?"
At this question the others seemed to shrink further within themselves, the youngest asari simply laying her head on the ground as she tried to block out the noise.
"Shep..Sh..pard"
The sounds in the distance seemed to be coming closer, and Conrad decided to take a quick look to see if they could remain or if they needed to break away to find better cover. Taking a few steps forward of the embankment, he crawled up one teetering column that threatened to collapse beneath him, very gingerly raising his head above the ridge line of broken walls, to peek around.
At first, he could see only blackness, the smoke of the war having blotted out the night's stars, the moon just a distant lighthouse blocked by the fog. A few minutes of begging his eyes to see everything before he noticed a general lightening to the pitch black around him. Think it for a moment to be his own perceptions, before her turned back and realized he was clearly seeing the children for the first time in days, since he'd first rescued them.
Realizing it was too early for dawn, he realized the cause mere moments before shafts of light began to shoot up from around them.
The air rushed by in a dusty tornado with a deafening roar, Conrad immediately jumped down from his column only to have it fully collapse the moment his body left his position, he rushed forward, intent on covering the children, to let his sacrifice perhaps hide them from casual scrutiny. The echoes and roars finally were calming down, though in reality it was just the group adjusting to the sound after days of near perfect silence, finally able to understand the call from the siren placed on the hovering ambulance having slowed a moment above them, a message of deep pain being ended, misery being lifted.
"Attention, to all survivors, the war is over. Commander Shepard had ended the war. All survivors should make their way to Big Ben for census and aid. Repeat, the war is over!"
The automated message finishing, the VI took a quick picture of the small group to aid searchers, then continued it's automated route, stopping at every detected life sign to play it's message.
Obviously the person making the recording, despite being a professional soldier and hard as nails spectre, could barely keep their voice understandable under the emotion, her voice pitching with hope, the rarest of commodities in the war, and had supplied the people with the most important details.
The children looked over at him with obvious trepidations, before they recognized the small chuckle coming from Conrad, their eyes slightly widening as they saw him seem to break down in laughter, his spasms as the laughter and tears came out finally bringing a little levity to their faces.
"Come on, kiddos, we're off to get ourselves fed." The remark brought immediate smiles as the kids followed their human guardian's example and hopped up. Seeing the towering structure in the distance, a large hole marring two of the clock faces, Conrad was very grateful he wasn't further away, he truly doubted he could marshal the strength to carry one or more of the children over a extended hike. "Everyone best keep steady, though."
Hearing the cautious advice, the children all began to peer around and watch the ridges for ambushes, Conrad almost immediately regretting making them loose their jaunty steps and cheerful faces, adding quickly, "but while we go, maybe we'd better start thinking of a favorite food to try. Might only be rations when we get there, but it'd be nice to have the choice." Seeing the looks of confusion in their faces, he corrected, "Kids, I don't care if I have to arm wrestle a krogan, you'll get the best they offer, so think on it."
The kids immediately went back to watching the heights, but all now had looks of bemusement as they'd tried to remember what foods they'd loved before all the death and running.
Big Ben had seen better days, but the crowd surrounding the base was overwhelming, the assortment of aliens mixed with disheveled survivors making a odd color palette to the usually pinkish-brown that was the tapestry of humanity.
The crowd was rife with yells, medical personnel quickly shouldering aside friend and family to reach carried or dragged companions bearing wounds. Conrad quickly bade all his kids to hold a hand of a kid with one hand, the other to latch to his belt as he marched towards a recent addition to the previously pristine historical square, a drab three wall temporary HQ, the canvas walls flapping in the concrete dust filled winds. Everyone had a small amount of ash, the medics and field hands discernable mostly from their near white appearance as the ash caked on them from the air and their patients. A salarian nurse noticed the small group walk in and immediately waved them over, pointing to a small cot behind her as she finished applying a medigel splint to a ruptured eardrum.
Settling down, the group began to settle, a sense of shell shock settling in as the adrenaline of the last week wore off and without subsequent attempts to kill them happening on a regular basis, the little ones were barely keeping their eyes open. Conrad quickly arranged the four as best he could on the cot, barely enough room to sit as sleep, and settled himself at the foot of the cot to await someone checking out his kids or directing him to a after battle census taker.
A hour or so later, a sudden silence woke Conrad, the lack of clanging or shuffling for the first time since he'd arrived almost making the silence a roar to his unaccustomed hearing. The children he considered allowing to sleep to investigate, but quickly he dismissed the idea, nudging the cot to awaken the kids, grabbing and squeezing a big toe to awaken the youngest asari, before giving them all a steady look and motioning them to grab their shoes. Seeing them getting ready, he unlatched his rifle and stepped out into a bizarre scene.
The entire square was silent but for a few mumbling whispers, some having simply fallen on their knees as if in prayer. His kids finally finishing, he felt four small fists grab the back of his belt and he started to lead them around the back of the tent when a flying hover van swooped down, in the middle of the square, a small group literally diving out of the way. Expecting to hear curses from the people literally kicked to the side, instead he hear nothing, no yells of frustration, no cursing the Reapers, or even whining about being manhandled as a group of six in black armor exited the van weapons in hand but held in a relaxed pose as the group quickly surveyed the surroundings before one motioned quickly to the hidden occupants.
Almost in a flash another group was exiting, bearing a pallet draped in white cloth, a small protrusion showing where a booted leg was hanging off the side. One of the soldiers jerked up is arm in a brusque way, his rudeness quickly waived off as amazement at the crowd simply parting before him. Seeing that the threat wasn't physical, as no one was running or even drawing weapons, Conrad stopped his egress as he turned and watched the procession part the crowd before them, within moments allowing them into the temporary head quarters and out of the light. Still the assembled peoples sat in quiet, no one seeming to be willing to break to shell that seemed to encapsulate the moment.
Conrad waved a hand at a nearby krogan leaning on a ammo box, his eyes seeming wet from the dust in the air.
"What's up, who's the big wig jumping to the head of the line?"
Seeing the small human with a cluster of children dangling at his waist, the krogran did something almost as scary as jumping up and giving a roar, he slowly knelt to eye level with the human, his large clawed hands hesitantly reaching over pat one of the girls' head. "The hero, he's there..he…"
The krogan seemed to back up, his face trying to fold his facial armor into a deeper frown oddly mixed with amusement. "He fell out of the sky and the savior lives.." At this he dropped his hands and head and began to heave, small growls emitting. Thinking the krogan was about to lash out, Conrad began to raise his weapon when the older salarian brother voiced, "No, not violent, never seen before, but krogan crying."
Another small growl before he added, "Shepard lives."