"Chambers, get your arse inside the goddamn ship!" Zaeed fired off a few more rounds, hitting two Collector drones right in the head. It bought Chambers a split second to jump aboard the Normandy, but the enemy continued to swarm the ship.

Zaeed took cover behind a piece of rubble that had landed onto the surface of the base. Two dozen Collectors had descended upon them soon after Shepard had ordered Zaeed to escort the crew back to the Normandy. They had just been saved from a machine that would turn them into brown Reaper paste. Zaeed wasn't about to let them die now. Every crew member was on board, but that didn't matter much if the Collectors breached the hull. They had to be stopped.

The Collectors kept on firing in turn. There wasn't a single break in their offense Zaeed could exploit. They were smart, numerous and organized. If he popped his head around the corner, he would most likely die.

Zaeed took the inferno grenade clipped onto his belt and lobbed it in the general direction of his adversaries. An explosion ensued and Zaeed knew he wasn't going to get a better chance than this. Rolling to the side, he unleashed a salvo of bullets from his Mattock, dropping three Collectors while almost half a dozen others were being burnt to a crisp. Roaring, Zaeed fired a concussive shot to the one in the center of the cluster. Another fire explosion followed, and the Collectors were hurting. Victory was getting closer. Suicide mission or no, Zaeed Massani wasn't going to go down without one hell of a fight.

Zaeed tried to get back in cover as fast as he could, but two well-aimed bullets from a Collector captain ruptured his shields. He stayed behind cover to recharge, but he knew that if the Collectors pressed their advantage he would easily be overrun.

His heart was pounding heavily in his chest. His own personal drum of war. Hundreds had fallen under its beat; the rhythmic cadence that ended people's lives. It was playing louder than ever, fueling his rage, focus and determination. The burning Collector flesh smelled like victory. To Zaeed Massani, death had always meant life. It was the same now, the stakes were just much higher.

He couldn't stay behind this piece of cover, he had to get out and quick. Desperately he reached for another grenade only to find his belt as empty as his credit chit after a night at Azure.

"Shit," Zaeed cursed under his breath. He had no choice. Staying low, he aimed his Mattock around the corner. Bullets flew past him, but one buried itself deep inside his forearm. Cursing loudly, Zaeed retreated back into cover.

"All out of medi-gel," he noticed on his omni-tool. "Fucking great." His misfortunes made him angry and he didn't hold back. He let the fury flow over until the pain became an afterthought. All he could think about was killing these Collectors and ripping off their ugly bug heads.

"Ready for another round?" he whispered at his Mattock. It wasn't Jessie, but it was damn accurate and very deadly. And right now, it was his only chance of getting out of here alive.

With one good arm he rushed out of cover, heading straight for the four remaining Collectors. Ducking underneath their barrage, he answered with three bullets of his own that drilled themselves straight into a Collector skull. The Mattock didn't allow him to spray fire, so he had to be accurate. His senses heightened by his battle rage, Zaeed shot two other Collectors right in the kneecaps. Only one remained. Zaeed rolled to the side to avoid being shot and took aim. His finger pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. The bullet got stuck inside the barrel. A white hot rush came over Zaeed.

"Fuck, no!" The jammed rifle refused to fire and the Collector was aiming at him. He saw only one option. He rushed at his sole remaining adversary. The Collector took his shot. He hit Zaeed in the abdomen, ripping through his weakened shields and armor. The mercenary roared and screamed, but it wasn't fear that gripped him. He rushed on, ignoring his agony and took the Collector down with a shoulder tackle. He slammed his Mattock into the alien's face until yellow golden blood came gushing out and its body stopped resisting.

Amidst the carnage, Zaeed lay down on his back. He made it. Now if only he could get back to the Normandy…

He looked up, searching for any sign of the ship, but what he saw made him gasp for air.

"Oh, no. No, no, no," he snarled. He looked straight at a collection of skulls, their looks of agony etched on their faces for all eternity. He stared right into death incarnate, the Praetorian's maw.

Zaeed tried crawling away, but the monstrosity hovered and landed right on top of him. Zaeed wanted to escape, but the Praetorian pierced the back of Zaeed's right knee with one of its legs. Zaeed did not scream even as it shattered his kneecap. He wasn't going to give it the pleasure.

With another blow, Zaeed felt the beast slash through his back muscles and hooking its leg near his spine. Like a piece of flesh on a meat hook, Zaeed was picked up. The pain was unbearable, but he kept his jaws clenched.

He stared straight into the Praetorian's cold blue eyes as he was turned around. Another leg went through his abdomen, ripping his guts apart. He felt the life fade from him. He realized this was where his journey ended.

"Don't worry, Jessie," he whispered with his dying breath as the Praetorian looked at him with something that resembled curiosity. He smiled faintly in the eyes of death. His last act of defiance. "Daddy's coming home."

A/N: Rest in peace, Robin Sachs. Thanks for the memories.