Author's Note:
Greetings to all those who may be visiting this story! This here is my first fan-fiction project, as well as my first independent work ever to be posted on the internet. It's been put up here more as an exploratory effort than anything else, and if I get a response it'll encourage me to write more. Feedback is welcome, as it will help me to learn as I go along, and so I encourage you to give me any constructive criticism you may have. Any questions can also be posted in the reviews, and if I can, I will answer them in depth.
Now, on to the basics of the story:
This project is essentially a redefining of the Mass Effect universe through a more realistic perspective. Many of the changes have to do with various aspects of the technology within the franchise, as well as plot direction and development of various story arcs. I am also reworking many other things relating to people, places and cultures- although most of this is more about fleshing out the content versus changing it outright. Many things shall be familiar, but don't expect to see the same settings or for events to follow the same path as the games or other material. Additionally, I will make an effort to include most known characters (especially fan favorites) in one form or another, but there will also be a very large original cast- both singular and reoccurring characters.
The plot arc is beginning roughly at the start of Mass Effect 2, utilizing a mostly-Paragon female Commander Shepard with the Colonist and Sole Survivor backgrounds. All available squadmates from the first game were befriended, and Shepard, by this point in the story, is in a romantic relationship with Doctor Liara T'Soni. Kaidan Alenko was killed on Virmire, and Ambassador Udina has weaseled his way into power among the Citadel Council.
That's about all that I can say here, but much more shall be shown throughout the course of this project. If it is successful and garners any sort of a following, I plan on going all the way up through the plot of Mass Effect 3 and beyond depending on whether BioWare makes more games including our dashing hero.
If needed, I might make a separate page to explain things if people need answers right off the bat. For now, though, I presume that this'll do.
Acknowledgements: I thank my sister for her encouragement and support in the creation of this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own any content relating to the Mass Effect franchise, with the exception of my own written material. Any similarities to existing figures or organizations is coincidental and/or justifiable under artistic license (e.g. referencing any current political organizations, or attributing any stated actions to them that have not occurred in real life).
CHAPTER ONE: THE HUNT
SSV Normandy, Amada System, Omega Nebula
0830 Hours Terran Coordinated Universal Time, Monday, July 13th, 2183
The Amada System was rather unremarkable, home to five planets and without any actual settlements. Its most distinctive features were a few archeological oddities, making most of its appeal scientific. The more outstanding of these curiosities was Eingana, a harsh world which was littered with the degraded shells of ancient warships, lost in a struggle long forgotten. This was also the primary reason for exploration to the system, which had seen the arrival of three vessels within the past thirty-two days.
All of them had disappeared without a trace.
This was more than slightly worrying, considering the recent emergence of the geth from their historic isolation within the Perseus Veil. Even beside the issue of their failed assault on the galactic Citadel roughly four weeks prior, the geth also had a newfound presence in the Attican Traverse and the Terminus Systems. As it was suspected that the disappearance of the scientific ships could be attributed to the enigmatic automatons, such was it the objective of the SSV Normandy to search the system.
Commander Jennifer Annette Shepard sat calmly in her command chair, overlooking the rest of the Normandy's Combat Information Center as it approached Amada. She drummed her fingers on the armrests of her seat, which was gimbal-mounted to the deck below her and positioned before the CIC's central holoprojector. Upon the display was a representation of the ship's trajectory into the system, compared with predicted placements of the various bodies within based upon prior information. This was necessary due to it being quite difficult to look at the outside world with any real clarity while encased within a high-strength mass effect field. Therefore, just where to drop out of FTL was a predetermined point- which was very near on arrival.
"Counting one minute to wind-down, Commander." Came the voice of Jeff "Joker" Moreau from over the shipboard communications network. He, being the Normandy's primary helmsman, was seated in the cockpit two-dozen meters ahead of the Commander. The young man was amid a cluster of other staff, each in charge of various functions of navigation, sensors and weaponry aboard the ship.
"Thanks For the heads-up, Joker," replied the Commander, thumbing a button on her control interface to switch her communicator over to the shipwide intercom channel. She cleared her throat and spoke into her headset, "Commander Shepard to all crew, brace for deceleration from FTL. We have roughly fifty seconds from this point to reaching Amada to conduct operations. Repeat, brace for deceleration immediately." She flicked off the communicator and donned her safety harness, waiting for the ship to re-enter the realm of normal physics.
Shortly thereafter, Joker sounded off the alert for drive reduction and began the process of bringing the Normandy down from FTL. Shepard felt a lurch as the ship's Tantalus core throttled down, the inertial dampeners slowly adjusting for the lessening of the vessel's surrounding mass effect envelope. She was pressed into her chair as the Normandy (which, at that point, was facing opposite from its destination) dropped down to sub-light velocity. A long, uncomfortable moment later, the ship's drive field adjustment ceased and it began to drift into the Amada system.
The deck's artificial gravity generators kicked in again as the acceleration vanished, and the crew began to unclasp safety equipment after their brief confinement. Once everyone was situated, the CIC returned to activity. Shepard looked towards the holoprojector and inspected the visible situation in real-time.
Amada was a yellowish-white dwarf star, its five orbiting planets revolving on roughly the same plane. The closest planet to their location at the system's rim, Alchera, was the fourth major body out from the star and was incredibly close by spaceflight standards- only about two hundred million kilometers away. Even though the Normandy was no longer moving at FTL speeds, it would be a short trip- roughly twenty minutes at most out of the multiple-day mission.
The plan of action was to use Alchera as the initial stopping point, discharging the drive core in its magnetosphere. The proximity necessary for this would also allow the Normandy to radiate heat unseen by possible observers, as it would block line of sight with the rest of the system for a short amount of time. After the planet had been thoroughly examined for geth, the Normandy would slingshot around it at high speed and use its Tantalus linear attraction drive to provide thrust. This, in conjunction with the vessel's hull refrigeration systems and heat sinks, would guarantee that no visible heat was released and that the reconnaissance mission could be executed without anyone else noticing the ship's presence.
Given, such secrecy came at a cost. The Normandy was already bottling up much of the waste heat from FTL travel, which due to the in-transit use of the shipboard fusion reactor turned out to be quite a lot. The temperature of the CIC itself was already several degrees warmer than usual, no doubt being significantly lower than the areas of the ship nearest the heat sinks. This would be reduced after they hit Alchera, but the interior of the vessel was going to get rather crispy a few times throughout the day. Such was an uncomfortable reality of working aboard the Normandy, but by no means was unbearable.
As the Commander watched a holographic representation of the Normandy inch closer and closer to Alchera, she decided that she needed some coffee. The mission was likely going to be a monotonous one, and she hadn't yet had her usual pick-me-up. Not only that, but going down to the Crew Deck to fetch it would give her a chance to talk to her bondmate. Rising from her chair and smoothing out her uniform, she looked over to the Navigator's station.
"Pressly?" she asked, prompting the older man to look up from his place at the front of the holoprojector assembly.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I'm going to head downstairs to snatch a drink. You think you could hold down the fort until we reach Alchera?"
"Sure thing, Commander," he replied. "I'll get you on personal comms when we make orbit."
Shepard gave him a nod of thanks, moving to go down a stairwell in the rear of the CIC. Two airtight doors later, she stepped out into the multifunctional Crew Deck. A few large tables were bolted to the deck in the main room, with counters topped with food processors and storage cabinets off to one side. In a room beyond that was the bunking area, with over a dozen two-tiered adjustable bedding arrangements attached to both the floor and ceiling. Outside was the medical clinic, and the captain's cabin was also nearby.
One of the first things the Commander noticed was that the mess hall was mostly empty. It was unusual, considering that crewmen generally congregated within it during slow ops, but then again the mission had only started recently and those on the previous shift were busy getting back to sleep. The next thing was who was in the mess hall, being three individuals who Shepard delighted to find there.
Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams and former C-SEC officer Garrus Vakarian were seated together at one of the tables, while the krogan mercenary Urdnot Wrex was in the process of acquiring an armful of rations from the nearby storage room. The three were very good friends of the Commander's despite having only known each other for a few months, as they had grown close during the mission to stop Saren Arterius. With the exception of Liara T'Soni and a few Alliance Marines, they were the only living members of the previous ground detail to remain on-ship. The rest had either been reassigned, or, in the case of Tali'Zorah- left for home.
As Shepard walked up to the table at which Garrus and Ashley sat, the turian gave her a nod of greeting and tapped the shoulder of the Marine sitting next to him. Looking up from the screen of her omni-tool, Ashley panicked to close it, get out from the table and stand to attention- all at the same time. It would have been a comical display, had Shepard not seen it so many times already.
"Good morning, Commander!" She sounded off, assuredly waking up a few of the crew bunking in the other room. Shepard returned her salute, allowing her to return to her seat before Wrex spoke up.
"Shepard, I thought that you were gonna stay up there for a while. Does that mean that we have something to do, now?" The Commander shook her head, much to the big lizard's disdain.
"No, sorry. I'm just down here for a minute; want to talk to Liara before we make first orbit." Looking towards Ashley, she asked:
"Have you seen her around, at all?" The Marine stuck her thumb backwards in the direction of the Normandy's medical clinic, nodding her head.
"Yeah. I saw her go in there a couple of hours ago, not so long after you went upstairs. She's probably still inside, but I haven't been in here the whole time." The interior shutters were drawn on the med bay's windows, making this ambiguous.
"She's in there," confirmed Garrus. "I heard her moving around in the storage room not too long ago." Again, Shepard was reminded of just how well turians could hear.
"Okay, thanks," answered the Commander. "Before I go in, though, I'm gonna make some drinks. You guys want anything?" Wrex and Ashley both shook their heads (and Garrus didn't actually have much to drink in the first place), and so she turned on her heel to go to the mess counter. An electric brewer was attached on top of it, and from a nearby drawer Shepard pulled a pair of lidded cups. She prepared a batch of Liara's favorite tea first (as the asari would have undoubtedly finished her morning cup if she hadn't left her workspace in so long), and then filled the second cup with standard coffee for herself. Turning around with the finished drinks in hand, she noticed just how many MREs Wrex had pulled from storage.
"Alright, kids," she said, addressing the trio. "Don't let the old man make himself sick, you hear?" This earned a glare from the krogan, accompanied by Garrus clicking his mandibles in amusement. Shepard was pretty sure that she heard him get punched as she went around to the med clinic's door.
Suspecting that Doctor Chakwas could be asleep within (she was old enough to need to nap intermittently, and she always lowered the shutters when she did so), the Commander cracked it open manually to peer inside. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the ship's doctor slumped in her chair, the device still secured from the ship's earlier deceleration. Shepard decided to sneak past the older woman, entering quietly and then sliding the door shut behind her. It was not to be, however, as the contraption sealed loudly and startled Chakwas awake. She looked up blearily, not recognizing her at first, but when she did, she hurriedly unbuckled her harness and shot to attention.
"Oh, I- Good morning, Commander!"
"I am so sorry, Karin. I was trying to be quiet," Shepard apologized, gripping the door handle. "Go back to sleep, I can leave."
"No need, Jennifer," objected the doctor, reciprocating her superior's dropping of formalities. "I needed to get up, anyway. I'm not much use lounging about, even if we are just drifting." She opened up the clinic's window shutters, the airtight coverings retracting upwards to let the light in. She followed this by turning on the ceiling strips, appearing to thoroughly blind herself in the process.
"I take it you're here to talk to Liara?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Yes. Is she present?"
"In the back room, dear. She's probably still going over her notes about Amada. The last I spoke to her, she was absolutely bubbling about this world with old ships on it. I can't seem to remember the name, though."
"Yeah, that's Eingana," Shepard clarified, leaning against the wall opposite from Chakwas. "She wants to do a detailed scan when we stop by, but I'm not sure if what she wants to see is on the right side of it for active sensors. If anything, we'll have to clear the system first and then head back to get a good look." The doctor nodded, somewhat downcast.
"Well, that's too bad. Maybe we'll get lucky and find there aren't any geth out here after all. I doubt it, though, considering the circumstances." Shepard looked towards the storage room at the other end of the clinic, taking a sip from her formerly neglected drink.
"Hey, Doc, I think I'm going to go talk to her. There isn't so much time left until we reach first orbit, and I've got to be up there when it happens."
"Go right on ahead, Commander. Sorry to keep you."
"No worries," Shepard assured, approaching the door. She gave it a brief knock before opening it, exposing the dimly lit interior of the room. The (objectively) young asari was sitting before her computer, engrossed in her research, and the Commander's entrance startled her.
"Oh! Jenna, I wasn't expecting to see you this early." Shaking off her surprise, Liara smiled warmly as the human approached. She accepted a tender kiss from her dear friend and lover, meshing their fingers as Shepard settled into a chair next to her. "How are things going up there? Have we reached Alchera yet?"
"Not quite," answered the Commander, checking the mission timer on her omni-tool. "We've still got about fifteen minutes or so before making orbit."
"Is that how long you have here?" Asked the asari, seeming disappointed.
"It is, Liara. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have waited so long-"
"Don't worry," reassured the asari, squeezing her hand. "I think that's enough time for me to show you what I've been working on." She tapped a few keys on her interface to bring up the proper material, and then scooted out of the way so that her bondmate could have a closer look.
What Shepard saw was a three-dimensional representation of Eingana, covered with markers for various objects of interest and other features. On the outside of the planet model was a line tracing what appeared to be the Normandy's preplanned route around the planet, looping around it several times as was necessary for a full surface observation. Liara had matched several points in the ship's path along the dark side of the planet to sets of coordinates on the surface, and had ascribed each a set of notes based on her hopes for the flyovers' results. It was very detailed work, and the xenoarcheologist had accomplished it in little time versus what the Commander would have expected.
"I take it you found some places to look at after all, huh?" Shepard asked, smiling at her bondmate's good fortune.
"Yes!" Liara replied, happily returning the gesture. "I didn't think there would be much of note on that side of the planet, but I was wrong!" She turned back to her computer, zooming in to show the Commander one of the marked sites. "I won't waste time explaining the coordinate system I generated for the locations, but I'll tell you some about what I found. This, here, is one of the most interesting wreckages on its side of Eingana!" She zoomed in a bit more, and then selected one of a few tabs that appeared once she got close to the surface of the planet. A three-dimensional, mostly-complete wireframe model of what looked like a sandblasted hunk of metal came up on the screen.
"Is that a ship?" The Commander asked, trying to discern some kind of recognizable features from it. If anything, it was missing a lot of components- likely burnt off as the vessel fell towards the surface during whatever war it had fought in so long before. The scale on the model showed it as being just over one hundred meters long, so whatever it had been wasn't very large by the standards of modern space navies.
"Only part of one," Liara affirmed. "The back half, I believe. It was probably of cruiser type, or something similar, and is actually unique versus many other crashed vessels out there."
"Why is that?"
"Well, for one, it is generally intact." This statement made Shepard blink, as it very obviously was not the case.
"Wait. If you're calling half of a ship 'intact,' then what's the average condition?"
"Most of them are, as you would describe them, 'blown to smithereens,'" the scientist replied. "However, most of those ships that were able to reach the surface at all likely did so in one piece. The destructions are largely because of outside intervention."
"Were the ships blown up after they landed?" Shepard asked, now a bit more interested in the subject.
"Probably, although no-one is entirely sure who did it. One thing that is for certain is that most of the vessels destroyed in that manner were large, one-way perhaps. It's possible that it was done to prevent the other side from obtaining sensitive information or perhaps the ships themselves, but their proximity to what were likely old settlements has led to the scientific community believing what I told you earlier, what with the battle being a colonial struggle."
"So, they were landing-ships from the settlers, blown up by the invading fleet?" The Commander theorized. Liara nodded in agreement.
"You know," the asari started, turning back to the screen. "Another interesting thing about this ship, here, is that its construction is consistent with the ones thought to have been among the invading fleet. It might have been one of those to have struck the settlements, or perhaps was shot down after it happened. We won't know, though, as those things are much older than the Protheans and what hands-on research there has been hasn't resulted in any real information on the belligerents. Further investigation likely wouldn't turn up much more, either, considering the state of most of the wreckages." This reminded Shepard of how she had refused Liara any ability to land on Eingana for an up-close look at the artifacts there, and a feeling of guilt emerged as a frown upon her face. The asari noticed this, and followed with a soothing comment.
"Considering, I am sure that an investigation from afar shall be more than adequate. We do have to conform to our plan, after all, and Eingana is a harsh world anyway." She gave the Commander's hand a reassuring squeeze, and continued speaking. "Besides, I've already been to quite a few interesting places- You yourself have taken me to many. I've seen countless rare artifacts, uncovered history; even spoke with Vigil on Ilos! I will not be missing out on much, in comparison."
This set the Commander rather well at ease. With any luck, they would be able to get what Liara wanted despite their suspicions about the system. If not, at least she wouldn't have to worry about disappointing her bondmate. As she was about to thank the asari for her clarification, her omni-tool broke into the mix by chirping loudly. Growling at the interruption, the human rushed to link the incoming call to her earpiece.
"Are we about to hit orbit?" She asked preemptively, making note of the fact that she was contacted a few minutes before she thought she would be. The voice on the other end answered, belonging to Navigator Pressly.
"No, ma'am, but I think we've run into something much more important than trajectory adjustments." The comment was very concerning, and she stood to get up.
"What is it, Pressly? Did we find the geth?" A worried frown came over Liara's face as she stood up to follow the Commander out of the medical closet. They had already made it halfway through to the mess hall when the Navigator spoke again.
"Ah, I'm actually not sure, Commander. I think you need to come up here and look at it yourself." This truly didn't help at all, and the antsy woman snapped at him in reply.
"Damn it, Charles, just tell me what's going on! Is there something down on the surface?"
"No, ma'am!" came her subordinate's reply, rushed. "It's something in orbit, just came over the horizon in front of us. It's big, real big, and it doesn't look like any ship I know of- Not even geth!" The news made the Commander's gut tie up in a knot, and her pace quickened as she neared the stairwell to the CIC. After instructing Liara to remain behind, she entered and began bounding up to the Normandy's top deck. Before she was able to reach and open the door, however, a titanic thunderclap reverberated through the deck and knocked her into the wall. She heard a staccato series of cracks and snaps as something busted on the other side of the door, as well as the telltale thump of explosive decompression.
The Commander slowly picked herself up off of the steps, ears ringing. She was obviously still alive, but the implications of the event were terrifying. Had the entire CIC just blown out? She was suddenly very aware that a vacuum warning was flashing on the door ahead of her, and klaxons were blaring to alert of a hull breach. Whoever was in the room when it happened was likely spaced, which at most only left a handful of crew behind the failsafe atmospheric barrier in the very front of the deck. This possibly left the Normandy operable to an extent, but it would be wasted if the rest of the crew perished. She swiftly moved back down to the stairwell entrance, pausing to check the pressure indicator on the doorframe. Thankfully, it was still normal. As she depressed the button to open the door, she gave thought to the ship's situation.
If the enemy vessel could see them well enough to shoot them, that meant that they were in great danger due to their proximity to it. The ship would have to be fifty or sixty thousand kilometers away at most, which was nothing if they were heading right at it. The Normandy's crew could have seconds to either escape or die, possibly minutes if they were lucky. Shepard made the decision to issue a lifeboat alert, entering the command code into her omni-tool as she exited into the Crew Deck once more.
All along the sides of the mess hall were launching ports for arrays of escape pods, able to hold six men apiece. There were eight of them on the Crew Deck, four in Engineering and another four connected to the CIC. Under normal circumstances, protocol would dictate where personnel from each deck would assemble for boarding the pods. This included some rear-CIC personnel moving down the stairwells to the lower deck, but after the breach those crewmen were assuredly gone. However, this still left a bit under three dozen personnel scrambling around in the mess hall and slightly fewer engineers on the deck below.
The men and women on the Crew Deck were operating on their training, calmly and precisely donning vacuum suits despite their stress. Many were already stacking up to board the pods on either side of the room, but one thing was absent that scared the Commander. Where was her bondmate? Spotting Garrus among the human crew, she called him over. The turian had his own Hierarchy-standard survival suit mostly on, only lacking the helmet that he had tucked under his arm.
"Commander!" He exclaimed. "What happened up there?"
"Bad guys are shooting at us! Where the hell is Liara?!" The tall alien clicked his mandibles, looking over towards the medical bay.
"She went back in there just a second ago, I think to get her computer! Do you want me to go grab her?" He was right on the money. Without another word, Shepard slapped him on the shoulder and pointed him towards the door. She was confident that he'd get Liara out quickly, and so as soon as he departed she went to address the rest of the crew.
"Everyone, listen up!" Heads turned in her direction as she connected her omni-tool to the ship's intercom system and raised it to her mouth. "This is Commander Shepard to all crew of the SSV Normandy, we have been critically damaged! Board escape pods immediately, but do notlaunch unless I give the order! I repeat: Button up, but do not launch!" The crewmen around her quickly set about following her orders, finishing up suit checks and then stepping into the escape pods one at a time. As this was happening, Shepard beelined to her cabin and opened the door, promptly reaching under her bed to pull out her own personal survival suit.
The garment was a one-piece, full-body arrangement. It was constructed of airtight tear and puncture-resistant fabric composites, and was neatly folded and packed in a case alongside its matching helmet and life support system. The whole assembly weighed just over eight kilograms, and despite its size was actually rather compact when stowed. This was reversed when the Commander hastily tore the loose-fitting suit from its container, stepped into it from the front and pulled the collar down over her head. Sealing it was simple, as the helmet mount possessed the only necessary seal in the form of a neck dam, which inflated securely but not so tight as to restrict circulation. The helmet itself was fixed, and had a twin-function shatter-resistant faceplate assembly roughly reminiscent of early 21st century EVA suits. It incorporated a flashlight, wireless communication system and breathing mask to name a few features, but remained a very simple affair. After all, the suit was only intended to keep the wearer alive for a short duration.
As the Commander finished donning the survival suit, another explosion made the deck shudder beneath her boots. She clipped the life support system to a mount at her waist (it was quite compact, only being a pair of small oxygen canisters and an air scrubber) and secured its hoses to her helmet, slipping it over her head to lock it into her neck seal. A small, green light flashed several times on the omni-tool display attached to her left wrist as the suit's pressure lines inflated to put the fabric under tension. This showed the Commander that her suit was in working order, thus leaving nothing else for her to do. Just as she was turning to leave her cabin, however, a call came in over her personal comms. With a sigh of relief, she realized that it was from her Navigator.
"Pressly," she began, accepting the hail. "Are you alright? What's the situation?"
"No, we have to get closer in," he said urgently, speaking to someone else. "It's the only option. Try for a burn with the remaining rockets; get us into orbit." After he finished, Shepard heard him adjust his earpiece so that she could hear him better. "Commander, glad to hear from you. Things are looking bad from up here; we've lost damn near everything. Want the whole run-down, or just objective-pertinent?"
"Short version, please. I just want to know if we can either get out of here or, failing that, get into a safe position to fire pods. What do you have?" He was silent for a moment, likely pulling up relevant information to give her, and she used that time to open her cabin door. It slid aside to reveal that almost all of the crew present in the mess hall had gotten into and sealed the escape pods, the only exceptions being Garrus and Liara. The two were jogging out of the medical bay alongside Doctor Chakwas, heading towards the lifeboats on the right side of the room (the port side of the vessel). Thankfully, all of them were suited up and ready to go.
"Commander!" Shouted the Normandy's medical professional. "Are you talking to the CIC?" The woman may have drawn her inference from how Shepard had her fingers over the communications control buttons on the side of her helmet, but it was also just as likely that she was simply worried. Joker was her patient; her responsibility, and the prospect of any harm coming to the disabled pilot was probably terrifying to her.
"Yes, Karin," she said gruffly. "It looks like the barrier went up in time to save the forward crew, but…that's all there is." The doctor seemed a mix between ecstatic and depressed as she received the news, but was interrupted by Garrus before she could speak.
"So how does it look, Shepard? I know you're delaying because launching isn't an option- what do we have left?"
"I still don't have the best picture of what's happening, but we're working on it. That's all I can say." This obviously did very little to ease everyone's fears of the Normandy getting blown to pieces with them still on it. Before another question with a demoralizing answer could be asked, Pressly's voice conveniently came over Shepard's communicator.
"We're in pretty bad shape, Commander, but I think we can make it provided that those bastards don't decide to fry us first. Don't know why they've let up, but they did." Waving the trio before her off to their pods, Shepard responded.
"Well, let's not let it go to waste. When can I expect us to be in position?"
"Five minutes, maybe a little less. I'd suggest that you come up here, though, 'cause we've whipped up a bit of a plan for it that I'd rather discuss face-to-face than over radio." Under normal circumstances, the Commander would have scoffed at the idea. However, with the mysterious ship having intercepted them seemingly out of nowhere, all while they had been under stealth… She decided that it'd be acceptable to assume that their personal transmissions could be monitored, however weak of a signal the enemy craft might be getting.
"Okay, I'll be there momentarily." She deactivated her comm unit and strode ahead, turning to approach the ground team's assigned escape pod. Garrus had just finished helping Liara to get strapped into her crash seat, the turian sitting back into his own to let Ashley assist him. Wrex was positioned in a special, krogan-sized chair at the end of the pod, his considerable bulk taking up the space that would have been utilized by two normal seats on the side rows. He peered at her through the large eyeholes of his own vacuum suit.
"Shepard!" He said, pointing a thick, gloved finger at her. "I wouldn't wait for the ship to explode, just give the order to jettison!"
"Jam it, crap-sack!" Ashley hissed, tightening up the final strap on Garrus' harness. "I'm not a fan of dying, either, but burning up in atmo or drifting endlessly in space are bad ways to do it! Just wait, the Commander will get us out of this."
"I'm not sure how I feel about sitting here while we get shot at," Garrus said, his mandibles clicking nervously. "How long until we can leave?" Almost on cue, another explosion elsewhere on the ship shook the deck. Evidently, their attackers had found it prudent to fulfill Pressly's fears.
"Shortly," said the Commander, getting increasingly agitated. "I need to get topside to discuss it with Pressly, I'll tell you-"
"What?!" Exclaimed the Liara, her eyes widening behind her visor. "Why do you have to do that, can't you stay?!" The asari was becoming frantic, and so Shepard grasped her by the shoulders and forced her to make eye contact.
"Liara, there is no other way to do this. As much as I'd like to stay here with you, arranging things over comms is too risky. I have to go, you understand? Our lives may depend on it." The scientist wrestled with herself for a moment, and then seemed to capitulate. Her shoulders slumped, and the vise-like grip that she had placed around the human's wrist slackened.
"Just tell me that you'll stay safe, Jennifer," she begged, voice low. "Please, that is all I want to hear." Shepard nodded, standing up from her bondmate.
"I'll do my best, Liara. You know I can't say any more." An explosion made the pod rattle in its fitting, further emphasizing the danger of the situation. She decided that she needed to get away from the others and into the CIC as fast as possible, not wanting to be standing around if there was another hull breach. "Look," she started, beginning to back away. "I need to go, right now! I've already stood around here for far too long!" She broke away from the asari's grasp, and then backed out the door of the lifepod. "I'll see you on the other side," she said, reaching for the button to close the hatch. Garrus and Wrex both nodded to her respectfully, and Ashley gave her a salute.
"Good luck, Commander!" The Marine shouted, her superior returning the gesture before she turned around to leave the pod. She caught Liara's eye just before she closed the door, noticing how the woman's face was deathly pale. Her bondmate tried to say something to her, but it was drowned out by the noise of yet another explosion- this time very close and making the interior of the compartment ring like a bell. The airlock irised into place between them, and the human immediately sprinted towards the stairwell to the CIC. She noted that the pressure indicator still showed a normal reading, and so she opened the door and ran up the steps for the second time in a short while. Then came the hard part.
The vacuum warning was still flashing, making it all the more obvious that the ship's breach reaction systems had failed to plug the hole in the CIC. That meant that if and when she opened the door in front of her, all of the air within the stairwell compartment would rush out- quite possibly taking her into space with it, or at least that would be the case if artificial gravity was off on the deck ahead of her and the breach was big enough. Not wanting to take an incredibly slow tour of the universe, she locked her arm into one of the zero-gravity handholds on the wall next to her. What would have been a potentially unused feature of the ship became her lifeline as she keyed in the override to make the door open.
The device slid to the side, but before it was even fully retracted most of the atmosphere in the stairwell had already rushed out at several hundred kilometers per hour. It was incredibly loud for less than a second, and then, nothing. Shepard stepped away from the wall that she had pressed herself against, releasing her deathgrip on the handle and turning to face the doorway. She nearly fell down from surprise, however, as she realized that she was looking into open space.
Well, not completely. The bulk of the CIC was structurally intact, but a huge oval-shaped hole was cut through the ceiling that bored into the inner hull in a rough semicircle towards the rear of the opening. It looked like some kind of gigantic laser had been directed against the ship from the front, melting and vaporizing much of the compartment's upper hull in an instant and sending everything that wasn't secured into space. Surfaces near the hole glittered with microscopic droplets of solidified metal vapor, and a great portion of the room was charred- likely from the intense flash of the laser's penetration of the compartment. The only light was either indirect or came from the tritium markings aglow over various surfaces, but the stars outside shone like little laser pointers and forced the Commander to lower her gold-tinted visor cover.
The front portion of the CIC was about thirty meters ahead of her, around the larger room's crew stations and through a wide hallway that formerly housed many of the Normandy's systems controllers. She couldn't quite see the cabin, but the glow from its atmospheric barrier's projection surfaces cast light down the passageway. Shepard decided to take the first, exploratory step into the CIC, and was utterly unsurprised when she began to float up off of the deck. The laser's penetration of the hull had knocked out the primary power systems, and with them the artificial gravity plating under the deck. She grabbed onto another handhold on the adjacent wall and forced herself back against the ground.
She concentrated for a moment, and her skin began to tingle as a shimmering blue aura appeared around her. She used her biotics to effectively weld her boots to the floor, and then alternated between them as she made slow progress towards the neck of the CIC. She flicked on her helmet light in a red tone, making things a little easier to see without disturbing her night vision. She nearly jumped out of her skin, however, as she was faced with a corpse. It was floating arms-up in the first seat on the left side of the hall, held into it by a lap belt. Why the crewman had been sitting with the belt in place she didn't know, but because of it they had died right at their station. The crewman was blackened all over their left side and back, which must have been facing the rear chamber of the Combat Information Center as the hull was vaporized. The rest of them was hardly recognizable, and Shepard couldn't even tell what sex they were due to the way that the corpse was damaged. Holding one's breath in a vacuum had a way of making them pop like a balloon.
The Commander said a silent prayer for the poor souls who had been caught in the CIC only a short time before, moving past the corpse and into the passageway to the front of the compartment. The section immediately by the airlock and little bit down from it was still inhabited, shown plainly enough by the group of people moving around behind the transparent barrier. Most obvious among them was Navigator Pressly, as he was the only one standing up. The seven seats in the room each had a crewman in them, being the Helmsman, Thrust-man, Astrogation, the Controllers for Power and Imaging Systems, and finally the two in charge of the Weapons and PD stations. Pressly was moving back and forth between every one of them, getting updates and giving out orders. Not for the first time, Shepard was glad to have him as her Executive Officer.
Due to the fact that all of those within the compartment seemed to be fully suited, the Commander decided to walk right in. For any non-biotic, doing so would be nigh impossible without first deactivating the field that was holding the cabin's atmosphere in place. However, such a limitation did not apply to her. She formed a pulsing barrier around herself that melded with the field as she touched it, and with a bit of a squeezing feeling she was able to force herself through without creating a hole. Pressly, having seen her approach, wasn't half as surprised as the rest of the crew to suddenly have Shepard within their midst.
"Commander, good to see you made it up in one piece!" The Navigator put up a salute, which was quickly mirrored by the rest of the remaining staff and returned by their superior. She raised her visor and deactivated her headlamp, surveying the room.
"Alright, Pressly, give it to me. I want to know what our resources are, and then I want to hear about this plan of yours." The man brought up his omni-tool, conjuring status readouts from the Normandy's systems.
"Well, we don't have much, ma'am, but I think it's enough to do what we need to. For one, we don't have the reactor anymore. Coolant systems got shot out as we were trying to start it, and so that takes away the torch, FTL, main gun and the GARDIANs. Most of the fuel cells are still working, though, so there's that. The chemical boosters in the forward direction are both fried, as are the first and third on the rear. The other two are damaged, but we've certified that they're still workable." He seemed to review his information, and then straightened somewhat. "Oh, and I forgot to mention that we've lost most of our sensors. The majority of what's left is on the belly of the ship, but that does give us some options when we factor in that our missile magazines are intact."
"How about this 'plan' of yours," The Commander asked. "I take it that it involves rolling over, spamming the enemy PD with missiles and then launching the pods under cover, correct?"
"Precisely!" The Navigator exclaimed. "I think that once we get a good look at them and start shooting, we just might be able to get away with launching the pods. Doubly so, considering that we still have ejected countermeasures." The idea was coming together in the Commander's head, and she nodded to Pressly.
"Alright, here's how I see it: Sometime in the next couple of minutes, we roll belly-up and then use our radars and other sensors for a second before they get burnt off. Then, we use that imagery to figure out where to shoot our missiles, and then let loose our magazines. When the other ship is busy dealing with that, we fire off whichever pod bank is most convenient and support it with chaff and thermals. We continue rolling, and then the next bank goes with its own set of countermeasures." She sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "It isn't much, and still leaves our pods vulnerable after the Normandy runs out of ordnance, but it's all we can do.
"Let's get on it."
The next minute or so was hectic as everyone worked to automate as much of the maneuver as possible. They decided that the ship was going to roll to starboard as soon as they began, and that would be the side from which the first wave of life pods was going to launch. When this happened, they would have a moment before the enemy ship was within the line of sight of their sensors, making it risky on the part of the first wave's participants. In order to mitigate this somewhat, they were going to cold-launch a bunch of missiles (the Normandy had a combat load of several dozen) and get them pointed in roughly the right direction before the sensors could even see the enemy. Once they did, however, and the fire control computers could piece together guidance algorithms for the ordnance, it would be a race to fill the enemy's defensive screen with enough missiles to either keep them busy for a while or to inflict a disabling hit. The bulk of their missiles were nuclear, so one could hope.
Once the first wave was launched and the ship was rolling over to present its port side towards Alchera, the rest of the maneuver was to be done completely without the crew's intervention. All those in the CIC were to board the pods that they had adjacent to the entry lock, and once Shepard gave the order for the second wave to launch, that would be it. With any luck, the countermeasures that were being launched alongside the pods would presumably keep most of them from getting zapped, but once they isolated themselves in orbit anything could happen. If the enemy ship wasn't disabled or destroyed (which would be great), they could decide to hunt down the pods one by one. That, or they might just be nice enough to leave them alone- only time would tell.
The Normandy was nearing the point that the CIC crew had decided upon as the initiator for their maneuver, and so everyone was getting ready. The room was in a hush as the timer slowly ticked down to zero…
It was time. Shepard saw as Joker used the ship's attitude thrusters to roll to starboard, and brought up her omni tool. She keyed into the shipwide personnel channel, and spoke directly to every crewmember aboard who was still breathing.
"This is Commander Shepard! Starboard pods, launch! I repeat, only starboard pods, launch immediately!" A series of thumps could be heard as over thirty individuals jettisoned into space, followed by the sound of chaff canisters and thermal decoys being launched alongside the pods. The enemy ship, at that moment, was likely witnessing an expanding cloud of radar contacts that would be interfering with their ability to make the pods out individually- except by infrared imaging, which itself would be thrown off by the large number of apparent contacts versus the comparatively small number of lifeboats. As the Normandy rolled over further, the enemy ship itself came into view for the first time in a good while.
"Jesus Christ, that thing is huge!" The Commander exclaimed, jaw agape. It was close to twice the width of a human dreadnought, and was even a good bit longer to boot. It looked like a gigantic metal cylinder, with massive, uneven protrusions from the main body that appeared almost organic in form. She knew that Pressly had described it as 'big,' but its sheer scale was entirely unexpected. What the hell was it?
"Yeah, I know!" Related Joker, ever undaunted by circumstances. "You think it's a Reaper?"
"I don't fucking know- Daniels, light it up!" The woman at the Weapons Station moved her hands quickly over her interface, and soon enough the Commander had confirmation that the Normandy's missiles were accelerating swiftly towards the unknown vessel. Shepard was suddenly having doubts as to whether they might be able to disable it after all, but that was swiftly out of her mind as she and the rest of those in the CIC went to assemble in the pods. Joker activated the autopilot systems as two other crewmen picked him up from his seat, and everyone in the compartment filed into the airlock space. Through a door on their left was a trio of lifeboats, of which all were to be used- three crewmen per pod, to maximize the probability of survival for each one's occupants.
"Launch is gonna hurt, Jeff," Shepard told the man, patting his shoulder as he was carried past her. He gave her a dreading grimace in response.
"Yeah, well, I've heard that getting your ribs broken really isn't that bad after the fifth or sixth time." He winced as his crewmates lowered him into a crash seat in the first pod, helping him to tighten the harness to his frail form without getting injured in the process. Shepard stood back as the first two lifeboats filled up, checking to ensure that they were properly handled. As the second door closed, Shepard, Pressly and Fred Cook- the Normandy's Thrust-man- were the last remaining. As the two men strapped in, Shepard took a last look around the compartment. It was likely the last she was going to see of the Normandy. As she did so, two things happened simultaneously: The second launch prompter she had set up on her omni-tool started going nuts, and she heard another compartment decompress below. Not just any compartment, however- It had to be the Crew Deck.
The Commander rushed to the doorway at the end of the airlock, taking a quick look at the rotating Systems Status model of the ship that the group had brought up on a holoscreen. Sure enough, the Crew Deck had lost atmosphere, but all of the pods still looked fine. Her relief making no sort of dent in her urgency, she switched off her buzzing alarm and tied into the intercom again.
"All remaining pods, launch now! I say again, abandon ship!" The cabin shook as the two lifeboats immediately next to her blasted free of their fittings, moving into planetary orbit. The countermeasures again launched in formation with the pods, and then Shepard realized that she was late. It didn't matter, though, as she didn't even make it to the open lifeboat before her.
As the Commander was nearing the door, the ceiling several paces ahead simply vanished in a flash of incandescent, vaporized metal and insulation. Everything went white as Shepard's optical nerves were fried, instant flash burns charring her face as her suit grew incredibly hot. Not that this truly registered to her, though, as she was thrown backward and her helmet made contact with the doorframe. To her, it was simply a flash of excruciating pain as she lost her sight, and then a hard crack as everything below her jaw went numb. After that, she swiftly perished.
Shepard slowly began to feel…something. A slight prickling sensation, barely registering against the dense fog that was draped over her thoughts. Growing by the moment, ever so slightly. It gradually became a buzz, an annoyance. This annoyance quickly turned to pain, however, as the sensation grew to be like fire, singeing every nerve of her body as she came to feel it. It was like a million ants crawling on her skin- digging, biting, stinging! She opened her eyes to pure whiteness, overwhelming and excruciating. She quickly slammed them shut again, but the pain was still there.
Her arms were simultaneously stiff and weak, not wanting to cooperate with her as she tried to bring them to her face to shield her vision. She was lying on her back, unable to move, tortured by the horrible burning until all of a sudden she began to hear. It was muffled, as if her ears were plugged with cotton, but hear she did. It wasn't much at first, but she started to make out voices- two of them. A woman with an Australian accent was speaking urgently to someone else, almost sounding afraid.
"What's happening with her vitals? She almost seems like…she's waking up. She's waking up!" A male voice cut in, low and gravelly.
"Brain's showing reaction to outside stimuli! Sedate her, heavy dose! She isn't ready!" Was he talking about her? Shepard was in too much pain to care, though, and cracked open her eyes again to find that it was much easier to see the second time around. She was lying on a table in what appeared to be some kind of hospital, with bright light strips and folded operating armatures overhead. She couldn't see much beyond that, however, and she decided to attempt to sit up. It was incredibly difficult, and it made the fire around her belly even worse, but she managed to raise herself onto her elbows as her head lolled forwards.
There were a number of people rushing about before here, all wearing white surgery scrubs. They looked at her with concerned fright, and she tried to speak, to ask them what was wrong with her. She couldn't, though, as something was in her mouth. Her hand went to her face, coming to rest on a mass of tubes that were tied together and led into her nose and throat. He hated the feeling of it being there, and so she started pulling. Two of the orderlies nearby immediately grabbed her arm before she could get the tubes out, and she struggled with them for a moment. Despite how weak she felt, they were having difficulty keeping her hands in place. She started moving her legs against the table to gain better leverage and get them off of her, but a third came in with a syringe and jabbed it into her shoulder. The person, a pale-skinned woman with dark hair, stayed at Shepard's side as she started to feel very heavy.
"Stay calm, Jennifer," she said, revealing herself as the woman whom the Commander had heard speaking before. "Don't move. Everything's going to be alright." The woman's face was the last thing that Shepard saw as she lapsed once more into a dreamless, drug-induced sleep.
Author's Note II:
Alright, everyone. I've received a bit of advice from others following my posting of this chapter, which has resulted in my acknowledgement of many of the issues therein. I may go back and edit this piece sometime in the future, but for now I am concentrating on eliminating such bad habits in work to come. Expect to see more active, direct storytelling that is more from a character's perspective versus the more passive, description-based writing style that I was using before. Now, thing's aren't going to change drastically when it comes to imagery or description of events, but you'll likely be able to tell a character's thoughts and opinions better from the way I will write from now on.
Rambling aside, I do hope that it has been a good read thus far. New content will make its way here in the near future, and will continue to be made up into the bulk of my planned content regardless of reception. Nonetheless, I'd like to end this by asking that readers recommend this story to their peers, as well as to drop a review for my consumption. As stated before, criticism is welcome.
Goodbye, everyone, and thank you for taking the time to read this. I'll see you again in the next chapter.