Mass Effect 2: The After Effect
Escaping the Collector Base
"Go! Move God damn it!" called Shepard as rounds sparked from the strange, semi-organic bulkhead behind which he was crouched. The space station shook with detonations as it began to fall apart following the Human-Reaper's destruction. The insectoid Collectors gave fanatical chase, the perpetual exchange of rifle fire ringing through the shuddering corridors. He rose and his M8 Avenger screamed its defiance at their pursuers. A Collector drone pitched and fell to the deck as he was hit mid-sprint. Thick grey-green gore spattered the deckplates as it writhed. Others fell into cover behind equipment crates, computer banks, and the steps in the segmented floor. More rounds spat in Shepard's direction, ricocheting from his shields and forcing him back into cover. Garrus was standing against the far wall of the corridor, his M15 Vindicator whining a rugged staccato as the three-round bursts found marks. Collectors dropped with each pull of his trigger. Shepard fancied he could match most anybody for marksmanship short of Garrus Vakkarian – or maybe the Geth, Legion.
More Collector fire wailed past and the station gave a particularly violent shudder, pitching him forward into the open. He barely kept a hold on his rifle, and as he dragged himself back Thane Krios emerged, replacing the thermal clip in his M9 Tempest. He had become pinned, but no more. They had to move, and Thane was smart enough to know that. Shepard dragged himself up on one knee and burned off the last of his own thermal clip in support. At the bottom of the corridor, where it joined to the vast central chambers of the space station, he saw an unfortunate Collector hit multiple times and plummet from the honeycomb catwalk into the abyss.
"Get to cover!" Shepard called, but it was redundant – Thane dropped in behind a bulkhead at the curve of the passage behind them and finished re-arming his weapon.
"I have your back, Commander! Displace!" buzzed through his radio, the roar of the weapons drowning out Thane's initial shouts.
"You heard the man, Shepard! Back!" Garrus buzzed in a second later.
Shepard looked for cover, found one of the defensive parapets that jutted up periodically from the ground to be best, right up at the corner by Thane. He took one last glance at the swarming enemy, dozens strong, and then sprinted for it. Twenty metres. His shields lit up immediately as the Collectors tried to drop him. He heard the alarm in his ears as his shields drained to almost nothing, and then he was out of Thane's line of fire and dashing up the sloping corridor to his chosen cover-point. His covering fire started up in earnest and in moments he was vaulting the barrier to safety. He came up against the safe side of the barrier back first and peered around the corner. He activated his radio, the orange-glowing digital gauntlet of his omni-tool materialising around his clenched fist as he tapped at the holographic controls.
"Garrus, we have you covered, get moving!" A Collector particle beam flashed up at them and scored a long, blackened gauge in the wall behind them as he and Thane ducked.
"I read you, Shepard. Don't shoot me now."
The Turian's lithe, blue and black armoured figure began to move, The blue ellipse of his shields faded into being momentarily as a round creased past him too close for comfort, but then he was at full sprint.
Shepard and Thane rose and let the Collectors have it, full auto. They dove for cover, the closest one on the other side of the bulkhead that Shepard had moments before occupied. Garrus vaulted in next to him, his armoured bulk clattering against the deck.
"Damn it, Shepard, this is getting pretty close." ensuring that his reputation for sardonic understatement had not somehow been wounded in the fighting.
"You're damn right. We've got maybe five minutes to get the hell out of here and even that might be too long. Keep moving!" he shouted as the station gave another gut-wrenching lurch and more detonations were heard, these ones closer to home.
"They're rushing us, Commander!" called Thane, his habitually even tones betraying no strong emotion even in their current situation.
"Move out!" answered Shepard simply, and stood. Half a dozen Collectors were in the open, running and firing, the rounds flying wild. The particle beam fired again, its solid orange ray splitting the air too close to home, the air reeking of ozone. Shepard brought up his M8, the stock of the bulbous assault rifle tight to his shoulder, the smart sight locked on the lead Collector. A one-second burst split the many-eyed, insectoid head of the drone apart, the carapace cracking under the impacts, the soft tan flesh of the neck tearing open, thick, viscous gore splashing the corridor. A second burst brought down the drone behind him, multiple rounds perforating his torso. Thane dashed past behind him, Garrus following, Shepard last. They could see the Normandy, her sleek bow hovering in front of the passage entrance, the door open revealing the cool interior.
Shepard followed his comrades as the Collector fire intensified.
Part of the right-hand wall and ceiling collapsed in as something exploded directly above it, and Shepard found himself thrown to the ground. Thane was ten metres further on, and he turned back to see Shepard down on all fours, shaking his head to clear it.
"Shepard!"
"Thane, go!"
Thane wasn't going to listen. Shepard could see it in his dark eyes. The Drell ran towards him. Shepard started to struggle to his feet in time to feel Thane's webbed hands grasp him by the shoulders and haul him upright.
Thane saw the drone round the corner, let go of Shepard, and drew his pistol in time to drop it with five rapid shots to the centre-mass. A second followed, trying to cross the corridor to a bulkhead on the far side. More rounds ventilated its back and it dropped to its knees, screaming inhumanly as it died.
The third stopped and fired blindly around the corner and he had no chance out in the open. Thane saw the rifle barrel swing across and realised exactly what was about to happen. He felt himself reach out to push Shepard safely out of the line of fire, into the damaged wall. His shields dropped in a moment, having had no opportunity to recharge. The rounds hit him in the right side, thrusting him backwards, sending him to the deck hard. There was no pain.
He had known that there would not be.
He felt distant, as though he were fading away. Shepard was crouched, firing back at the corner. He could hear the shrill screech of Garrus's Vindicator. Why weren't they running?
I am so sorry, Kolyat.
The grass is waving gently in the breeze, the little Drell plays in it, running and laughing, running and laughing and spinning. A crimson sun sinks slowly beneath the distant horizon, shimmering on the waves, turning the panorama into a blur of bright colours. It is beautiful, truly peaceful, and the little Drell smiles at him...
Hands gripped his shoulders and his recall was broken. He looked up to see Shepard hauling him along the deck.
"Go Shepard!" Thane shouted, finding words. It was hard to breathe.
"Shut the hell up, Krios. Garrus, cover us!" was his response.
"I've got you, Shepard!"
Shepard stopped, reached down and pulled Thane's right arm over his left shoulder and around his neck, and then used the leverage to pull him upright. The two began an awkward three-legged run. Ten metres and they reached Garrus's position. The Turian lowered his rifle and took Thane's other alarm, turning them into a strange, loping, five-legged beast. Another explosion, up ahead, blowing out another section of wall, and they got a garbled message on all their radios from Joker, completely unintelligible. Dark blood was running freely from Thane's wounds now, dripping onto the deck as they ran. His head was lolling, The unscaled skin of his neck paling. He was fading fast.
"Faster Garrus!" He shouted, his shields sparking as a stray round found him.
"We won't make it without covering fire!" Garrus answered, apparently not hearing.
A figure appeared in the Normandy's airlock, an M8 in hand. Joker, standing unsteadily, leaning against the frame. Shepard grinned humourlessly.
Good man, Joker.
His shooting was undisciplined but effective. His wild bursts spat over their heads, and with several of the Collectors now in the open, he couldn't miss. Satisfaction blazed in the pilot's eyes as he killed.
"Push it!" Shepard bellowed and he and Garrus doubled their pace, the airlock looming ahead. Shepard's lungs burned, his breathing ragged and then they were there, the corridor opening onto nothing. Joker stood closer in to the airlock's right side to make room.
"On the count of three!" Shepard ordered and he and Garrus set their feet and mustered their remaining strength. "One! Two! Three!"
They heaved Thane across the several feet of open space into the relative safety of the Normandy's bridge.
"You next Garrus! Go!" Shepard demanded, slapping him on the arm and reaching over his shoulder for his rifle. The weapon extended as he brought it up, hunching and aiming back down the corridor. A pair of swift bursts dropped a brace of Collectors, their screams drowned out by the running battle and the proximity of the Normandy's roaring engines. Their were clanging, heavy footfalls as Garrus made it into the airlock with a powerful bound.
"Shepard!"
Shepard turned and tossed his M8 across the gap, through the open airlock and then leapt. He fell short, but got a solid hold on the ledge at the airlock's exterior, scrabbling for a hold. Shots careened off the Normandy's smooth hull, marring and pockmarking it as he dangled.
Garrus's long hands and fingers grasped his arms tightly and dragged him up and in, and they were through, the welcoming bridge some small comfort despite their escape not yet being over.
"Close the damn door. And get us the hell out of here, Joker!" Commander Shepard said breathlessly, dragging himself upright and out of the line of fire. A few rounds made it through the doors and flattened themselves against the far wall before the airlock slid closed and the Normandy drew away from its improvised dock.
"Thane. Thane."
Shepard looked over and saw Yeoman Chambers – Kelly – slapping his scaled cheek and trying to stem the flow of blood.
"Shit. Get Chakwas! Did she make it back?"
"We all made it back, Commander," Chambers "Except for Jacob." there were tears in her eyes. "He died holding off the Collectors so we could escape."
Shepard shook with rage.
How many? How many died?
"Help me get him to the infirmary Garrus. Stay with Joker, Kelly, assist any way you can." her red hair over her face, she nodded.
Between them, and despite their exhaustion, Shepard and Garrus got Thane upright once again.
"Commander..." he began, softly, his voice breathy and thin.
"Don't speak Thane, save your strength."
"Tell...tell Kolyat..."
"You'll tell him yourself. Just focus on staying awake, Thane, we've got you."
Getting him to the lift was difficult – it was difficult to stay on their feet with the ship moving the way it was, but they made it. The interior was a wreck, sparks flying from shorted out electronics, a girder half-blocking the lift door. Shepard was amazed the lift didn't jam in the shaft as they descended to the crew deck.
They staggered out to a scene of even greater destruction, the lights flickering on and off. More than a dozen crew members were huddled against the walls like refugees, still covered in the viscous liquid, it shining fitfully in the flaring lights as it dried on their skin and uniforms. They were in shock, and they were terrified. They had arrived just in time, by Shepard's reckoning – any later and they all would have been part of the monstrosity they had destroyed at the heart of the station. The door to the infirmary was open. Two of the bunks was occupied already – Jack's thin, tattooed form was one. Chakwas was with her, and she already had two shaken crewmembers seconded as orderlies. She was shouting things that Shepard could not hear over the blood pounding in his ears. Samara's was the other, stable or dead Shepard couldn't tell, but Chakwas and the 'orderlies' were not actively working on her.
"Chakwas!" Garrus called, his strange Turian timbre reverberating in the confined space. The shell-shocked ex-Alliance doctor appeared in the doorway.
"Oh God. Bring him in, put him down on an empty cot, we'll stabilize Jack and then -"
"Doctor!" one of the would-be orderlies followed, a crewman Shepard knew as Delacroix. He looked...empty.
"What is it?"
"She's gone."
The flatline sound of the monitor could not be plainer now. It burned into Shepard's brain like a bullet. He felt anger, and hopelessness. He wished he could have said something to Jack, seen her, saved her, saved Jacob, even saved Legion. But he couldn't and now he just had to wait and find out who else had not made it. But Thane was still critical.
"Chakwas, he's lost a lot of blood, he's hit three times in the right side, I think one punctured...something." Shepard reeled off the information while they manoeuvred the wounded Drell through the narrow doorway and up onto a bed at the far end of the room just before the door to Legion's old chamber.
"Okay Shepard, stand back." Chakwas passed around him, slipping through the armoured figures to lean over the prostrate Drell, bringing an overhead lamp in close as the Normandy, under Joker's able hands, noticeably sped up.
"He's lost a lot of blood," Chakwas began, "But you got him here in time. Let me work. You're needed elsewhere."
Shepard instantly understood.
"Where are they." he said grimly, his eyes fixed on Thane's barely conscious form as Chakwas began to work, Delacroix muscling past him.
"The briefing room. Miranda thought that would be best."