A Chasm In The Dark

Krell Vernsk, Leader of Urdnot's Markala company, stood on the cargo bay deck of his scout ship surrounded by his men. A certain air of expectation permeated the bay, this mission had the potential for glory and all of them knew it. As a group they faced the large bay doors that slowly began to open, the ancient ships machinery groaning in protest as the massive door slid aside.

The world beyond was a mostly brown one; dust swirled up from the numerous caverns and gigantic shadow filled gullies. They looked like wounds on the planet that had been inflicted by some giant clawed monstrosity who had gone on a tear. Huge sinkholes littered the planets surface, and the planets crust stability was rapidly decreasing if ship scans were to be believed.

Letting his eyes scan the ground before him, Krell was the first to step off the loading ramp and spit ontp the arid planet's sand, watching it begin to evaporate already as he moved. He trotted out of the scout ship and began barking orders to his men as they spread out behind him.

"Team A moves up and secures the perimeter. Teams B and C get camp duty. Team D is with me. Move it!" The force complied with a chorus of grunts as they quickly dispersed in practiced fashion, squad D following him out past the sentries at a trot. For hours scoured the area around the camp, mile after empty boring mile, making note of any strange tracks or disturbances they encountered. To Krell's great disappointment, they found none. When they had nearly reached their starting point again, the massive scout leader snorted his disappointment like a male bull about to charge.

Was Wrex wrong? Maybe there isn't Rachni out here after all. If there isn't, Wrex is going to catch hell from clans Jorgal and Gatatog, they already think this mission was a waste... Of course they're too cowardly to say so to his face.

Krell could imagine the leaders of clan's Jorgal and Gatatog faces when they did eventually find Rachni, and nearly laughed aloud at the images in his head.

"Scout master?" One of his men motioned with a jerk of the head for him to come look, and he didn't waste time on asking what it was. His men knew what could be important and what wouldn't.

"Tracks." Krell let his old leathery grin spread across his face as his men exchanged triumphant grunts of approval. But after a moment of study his smile began to slide into a frown, as the tracks he was seeing were like nothing he'd ever seen in his life. The tracks were of multiple legs on one creature, of that much he was certain, but the markings in the dust were more like some huge mutated version of a spider than anything else. They were tiny marks in rapid succession, indicating a creature that moved in a quick, low to the ground scuttle.

"What, in the hell, are those?" He asked more to himself than to anyone in particular, but he was already done looking at the tracks before him to see where the rest led. The trail meandered into one of the caves of course, but he wasn't about to take just this one group into probable enemy territory without back up. He twirled his arm above his head with two fingers extended in the signal to regroup before he headed back to base to update Wrex and his personal mission log.

Scout Master Krell, Mission log update.

Day one: "We have found only one set of tracks on this miserable planet, but no signs of the creature that made them. If I had to guess i'd say you were right Wrex, the tracks were more in line with Rachni than any other known species but... they were different. I can't say how, only that they were. This whole planet smells wrong, but that might just be the rations getting overcooked again. We will investigate the trail more in depth tomorrow at sunrise, Krell out.

"I don't want to hear excuses Charr, I said move it!" Krell kept himself from lashing out at the fool, but only just. The man was simply not scout material, constantly complaining about conditions and workloads, not to mention his obsession with some asari back on the citadel who he recorded messages for in his down time. They were poetry. A krogan, writing poetry! It made Krell want to kill the moron himself.

Shying from Krell's words, Charr nodded quickly, deciding to be about his task rather than be near his commanding officer any longer. Huffing at the man's pitiful excuse for a backbone, Krell called in the main force, waiting until those who he wanted with him on the search had all gathered around.

As the majority of his force assembled, Krell allowed himself to think.

Why would the Rachni be here at all? This planet isn't toxic the way they like it. Not too mention the only track we found was nearly a mile from base, and only one at that. Where there is one Rachni, there will be others... many others.

"First things first, Night guards?"

"Nothing at post one sir."

"Nothing at two sir."

"We might've had something, scout master." One of the sentries stepped forward hesitantly, but the hesitance was mixed with excitement as the man practically quivered.

"Well?"

"One of my men reported noises just outside the perimeter. A chittering sound, like some kind of animal. Had to have been big for it to be heard from outside our field of vision."

The sentry commander stood straight after finishing his report, waiting on Krell's dismissal.

Krell frowned for a moment in thought, but eventually dismissed the claim. It was far too circumstantial to be taken as more than a jumpy scouts fancy. The men had all heard about the tracks from yesterday of course, and the thought of facing Rachni once more filled them with eagerness and impetuousness. Things a good scout discarded if he wanted to live for long.

"Understood. We will be mobilizing to scout out these tunnels in an hours time. Assemble the squads and prep for tight quarters combat. I want every squad to have their flamer thrower at it's head when we leave camp today, understood?" A chorus of acknowledgements echoed across the camp as they set out, scattering to their hastily assembled prefabs for their weapons and armor.

An hour later they set out, breaking into four teams to search for signs of life in the caves. Krell's squad was comprised of five krogan, all with assault rifles and shotguns except for the one flame thrower at the front. The lead scout strode forward with confidence as they walked into the mouth of the cave, his chest puffed out as his eyes scanned the near pitch darkness surrounded them. Krogan eye sight was good in the dark, but even krogan sight was strained once they left the cave entrance far enough behind.

Omni-tool lights flicked on, illuminating ancient stalagmites and stalactites that looked incredibly sharp. It was very quiet inside, the only audible noise beside his team's footsteps were the occasional echoes of water dripping from the ceiling farther in. The cave walls were slick with what he at first assumed was moisture, but upon a closer examination looked like some kind of secreted resin. It rolled slowly down the walls in a thin sheet, reflecting the light of their flashlights and glistening. The walls and ceiling that were not coated in the resin looked almost black themselves, but the occasional stream of light from sinkholes filtered in as they walked in silence.

When they had made it maybe a mile or so into the winding complex, Krell began to doubt himself again. No animal would let an intruder just stumble about their home without some kind of defense. That was when it hit him. It was faint at first, a soft caress of the nostrils that tickled his memory. The more they walked, the stronger and more pungent the stink became until it began to be a problem.

Hmph, something in here smells very wrong, like an old wound left in the bandage too long.

The lead scout suddenly held up a fist, making the whole team freeze. As a group, they looked around warily, trying to figure out why the man had called a stop. He was about to ask the man what the problem was when a sound reached Krell's ears as well. It was faint, very faint, and almost sounded like... a scream?

"Squads, report in!" he waited as the silence continued over the comms, cursing when no one replied. "Caves are likely blocking transmissions. Double time it troop, I want to know what that noise was." Heeding his own order, he started to trot, his men keeping formation easily despite the faster pace. When they'd been running for nearly forty five minutes, he called a halt again. He strained his ears to hear over the elevated beat of his two hearts and the rush of blood through his ear holes, but he only heard the drip of water from far off.

The group stood motionless for a good few minutes, all of them beginning to give off a vibe of worried irritation that made them all tense. The krogan with the flamethrower was the first to break the silence.

"We won't find whatever that was by wandering around aimlessly scout master, we should head back t-" He was cut off by Krell stalking to him and slamming his plate into the mans nose. He reeled back, nearly dropping his flamethrower as he held his bloody face.

"I give the orders whelp, now fall in. It's getting late anyway." Krell's words made the other man grimace, but he managed to restrain himself from making any comments... much to Krell's disappointment. His frustration could have been worked out faster by killing an idiot who couldn't keep his trap shut than by physical training.

Navigating the tunnels back out proved difficult, but he wasn't called scout master for nothing. When they finally did manage to find the exit, it certainly hadn't been the one they'd entered from.

"Scout master Krell to all squads, report in." He waited expectantly when the static was finally gone from the ear piece, but was still slightly shocked when it crackled to life.

"Groups B and C here, we arrived safely at camp, but... Well it's gone sir."

"...Gone?"

"The camp is hanging halfway out of a sinkhole sir, looks like scans misjudged our campsite's stability."

Impossible, I checked those scans myself. They were solid!

"What about group D?"

"Nothing sir. No one from group D has reported in since this morning." Krell rubbed his brow plate in consternation, but set out towards what was left of his camp. When he got hold of Wrex again, they were going to have a serious chat about getting up to date equipment for ops like this.

Mission log update.

Day two: We explored some of the caves today, but found nothing of importance. Just some sticky crap along the walls that i had a man take a sample of. Not that we have anywhere to put said samples, due to half of base camp sliding down a sinkhole. I checked those scans of the planet crust myself before we landed, and the nearest unstable plateau was nearly a klick away.

My only conclusion is that someone, or something, made this area unstable since we arrived here. The rachni are known for their ability to make underground boroughs, but this planet doesn't suit them. It isn't toxic or exceptionally harsh, and as far as i can tell there are no plants or animals for them to keep any sizable population afloat. Something is definitely off about this mission.

One of my squads hasn't reported in either, if they don't show up by morning I'll proclaim them KIA. I'm not wasting another second looking for some idiots who lost their way in the caves. Krell out.

By the next morning the missing squad had not returned, and the entire team seemed more on edge than the day before. They cast looks around like they expected something to jump out at them any second. Krell almost hoped something would. The smell had gotten worse since the day they'd arrived as well; like a recent corpse that was just starting to bloat, causing the air to be sickly sweet with a tang of what he could only describe as rust.

The sentries reported more strange noises as well, and that, coupled with the recent missing squad and the sinkhole, made him decide to lend the stories credence. He had taken the teams East this time, toward the noises the sentries had heard during the night.

Krell had thought hard over how to solve the communication problem, and had found only one solution. Each unit leader had a IFF tag that could be flared to similarly linked teammates through their HUDS. If an IFF blinked twice, they needed help, if they were ok, they blinked once.

He had one squad stay above ground this time as well, to be able to act as a quick response unit in case one of the squads needed assistance. they would be unhindered by the labyrinth below, and could get there much faster should the need arise.

So once more Krell found himself walking along a dark cavernous cave, holding his Omni-tool up to peer into the darkness. The flamethrowers nose was still wrapped in a white bandage, but he held himself high as he walked, the flames licking the end of the barrel on his weapon eagerly. Krell watched the walls with a small amount of disgust from the resin that soaked them, wondering what it was for. It was changing the cave interior, almost like... terra-forming. The air was more damp than such an arid planet should allow, and coupled with the smell it was like breathing in a rotting body.

Sneering in disgust once more, he wished not for the first time that he had a helmet with a ventilation system. After they had moved for a while with nothing to report, Krell pinged his IFF. He waited as the teams pinged him, first the above ground team, then the other. He sighed when both teams responded, but instantly cursed quietly to himself when a second ping followed.

Contact... "Shit."

"Scout master?"

"Forget about it, the response squad will take care of it."

"But that leaves us without back up, sir." The one who spoke realized his mistake too late when Krell whirled around to face him, pointing a finger under his eyes.

"Afraid of the dark? You pathetic little pyjak? Why don't I just tell our flamer to burn your cowardly hide to a crisp and use your screams to lure them in?" He stared hard at the wide eyed scout until he shook his head quickly. "Now shut your damn mouth and speak when spoken to!" His last word was punctuated by a sound that made all of them clench their hands and cringe. It was like something metal being dragged slowly over rock, the screech dug into their spines with icy fingers and froze them on the spot.

The group look around warily, no one daring to make a sound. When nothing happened for a few minutes, he grunted to himself and motioned the group forward slowly.

They had only moved a few feet when another strange sound, like many needles moving along the stone floor very quickly, made Krell whip his head around behind them. He frowned and the whole squad whipped around with weapons held towards the ceiling, not even moving their heads as they listened intently. As soon as the noise started though, it was gone. The team stood transfixed for a moment longer, eyeing the resin soaked walls uneasily.

Wait a minute, these sounds are making no sense. Are Rachni smart enough to use distractions?

"Ok, this is getting ridiculAHH!" The scout beside Krell yelled as something grabbed his leg and pulled hard enough to send him to the floor. Kicking madly at his captured leg, the scout continued to scream as he was dragged towards a small little hole at the bottom of the wall. His senses finally snapped back and Krell hefted his shotgun, aiming at the scouts foot. He didn't hesitate, the shotgun bucked in his hands and the krogan howled in pain as his foot was blown off at the ankle. A shrill squeal could be heard as whatever it was that had grabbed his scout retreated in pain.

"Get him away from there!" His shout spooked the rest of the team into motion as well, as they hurried to the wounded krogan and pulled him out quickly. Krell wasn't looking at his wounded man though, he was looking at what he'd actually meant to shoot. Writhing on the ground was a black tentacle, covered in faint blue veins that seemed to almost be pulsing.

He squatted down next to it and picked it up carefully, avoiding it's pinchers at the end and examining it further. They weren't veins, they were wires.

"Reapers." He muttered quietly.

"Blood loss stopped sir, but what was that thing?"

"I'm not really sure, but it feels pain. That's good enough for me." Krell said thoughtfully as he tossed aside the limb. "Get him mobile, I dont care how, just make sure he can keep up. We move in five."

The team made a makeshift sled for the man to lay on out of strips of cloth from their supply packs and the packs themselves, but it was clear they needed to get out soon, as carrying wounded diminished what little ready firepower they had. After watching every crevice he could while he waited, Krell ordered them to move out the way they had come, feeling a little ashamed that the enemy was getting the better of him so badly.

It was at least a good two hour walk from the entrance they had used, and sledding the wounded krogan behind them made it even slower. The squad was tensed up badly, watching and twitching at every little noise. Krell decided to ping his other squads again to see if they'd made any progress. His initial ping went unanswered for a long moment, until finally both teams pinged back. He started to sigh in relief, until both teams sent a second pulse right after the first.

Cursing again, this time a little louder, Krell knew he had to make a decision.

"We're going to have to leave him. There is no way we can get to the other two teams in time with him slowing us down."

"Sir?" The hoarse voice of the wounded krogan sounded a little worried.

"We'll leave you what we can, but we need to double time it . Get back to base however you can, and remember you're a krogan damn it. Suck it up." Ignoring the man's bewildered expression as his team tossed him a few thermal clips and some medi-gel, he motioned the team onward at a trot. He knew the general location of his teammates via the IFF, but the cave system would likely take them a while to get through anyways.

After jogging through the darkness for what felt like hours, Krell thought he heard the sound of gunfire from up ahead. Signalling his men to sprint now, he dashed forward towards the noise. He almost didn't notice when the ceiling began to get closer to the ground, his focus solely on getting to his other teams. But soon he had to duck the occasional jutting rock from the low hanging ceiling. It was pock marked with deep holes, but he didn't spare the time to look at them until one of his men was grabbed around the throat by something. The krogan's gurgles and desperate scrapping drew the attention of the squad, who were attempting to skid to a stop from their headlong sprint.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Get him!" Krell roared at his men, who burst into action at his order. They dropped their weapons and scrambled to the choking krogan, grabbing his arms and legs and pulling against the thing that had him. It had been steadily pulling the scout up into its hole, the man's eyes were frantic as his head slowly disappeared into the darkness despite the teams efforts. They heaved, fighting against the incredible grip the thing had, but it began to lift even the other krogan off the floor. The mans body they held was jerking violently now, muffled cries echoed from the ceiling as the entire troop gave up and let now limp soldiers body slide up into the hole completely.

Krell fought down rising panic, and he could see his men beginning to looked frightened too as they stared up into the hole. A particularly loud explosion shook him from his stupor and back to the gunfire coming from a little further ahead.

"Forget him! We need to move!" He waited for his men to overcome their fear and pick up theirs weapons before resuming his sprint, though now they all avoided any and all holes in the walls and ceiling.

Krell burst around a corner with his team right behind him to come across a scene of utter chaos. A handful of krogan scouts from what he assumed remained of both squads were scattered around a large open room. Fading sunlight shined like a beacon through a crack in the ceiling. His teams were fighting what he initially thought were Rachni, but as his men rushed past him to join the fray, he quickly saw the difference.

These creatures might've been Rachni once, but no longer. Huge bulbous tumors hung from the monsters chest cavities, pulsing with a orange glow as they waddled closer to his men. There were cannons grafted to inky black skin atop their shoulders, and reaper tech hung from grotesquely misshapen mouths that emitted horrific shrieks.

His men were in a bad way, that much was obvious. At least six were dead or dying, and the rest were being corralled into a corner by wave after wave of the beasts. When his men jumped in and started flanking the things, the creatures didn't so much as flinch. The large cannons swung around immediately to target the new threat while Krell dove into cover, sticking his shotgun over it and firing into the mass of enemies beyond.

The krogan that had been fighting for a while rallied at the sight of him and his team, blasting their way across to join them. But to Krell's surprise and horror, he found the Rachni cannons were deadly accurate. A round from one caught one of his men in the back as he ran, tearing off a huge portion of his shoulder and some of his torso as he landed unmoving in a heap.

Another ran too close to one of the beasts in an attempt to kill it by hand, when the thing reared up on its spindly hind legs and stabbed the scout along his chest and shoulder. The krogan bellowed in pain as the rachni came back down from its height, pinning the scout to the floor. as Krell looked on, the mutated Rachni's tumors began to tremble over the pinned krogan until they burst, spewing forth an army of spidery infant Rachni.

The scout's roars became screams of absolute horror as the things crawled over him, stabbing and worming their way inside his leathery skin. A few forced their way into his mouth as he screamed, muffling his cries as yet more dug at his eyes and face to force their way in. In a matter of moments the scout was dead, bulges undulating beneath his skin like worms through an apple.

Every single krogan left stood shocked as they watched on in abhorrence, until Krell roared in protest. He stood from his cover and began unloading into the mass of creatures that remained. His fellow soldiers did the same, charging from cover to kill anything that scuttled or skittered. Flame throwers spewed forth their handlers fury, scorching and burning everything they could get in reach of. Flames soared high over head and mass accelerator rounds flared through the darkness of the cave and it's scant amount of light.

When they finally stopped firing, they were all covered in orange goop and entrails as they huffed from exertion.

Only four scouts remained alive, but all of them were looking vacant and wild eyed. They all avoided looking at the krogan that had been swarmed though, as if they refused to believe it had even happened. Krell sat down heavily on a nearby rock formation as he gazed over the battlefield, taking in his losses and assessing his options. He didn't see much hope.

"What now sir? We can't take another wave like that." Charr, the one man he didn't care to see right then, spoke up through the silence.

"We finish our mission or die trying. No complaints, no excuses." He said loud enough for the survivors to hear. "We still have three flame throwers in this room. Why don't we show them to the queen?" His words earned a few encouraged grunts, but not from all.

"Shouldn't we go back to the camp and warn Urdnot Wrex? He'll want to know about this."

"Back to camp? You think these things will let us get all the way back there now that they've got a taste for us? And even if they did they'd just surround us and kill us there anyway. No, i say we continue. I say, we take these things as far into these caves as possible so the next team stands a chance. I say, we make our sacrifice worthy of song and remembrance! Wrex will know what happened here soon enough whether we tell him or not, but I will not go down without a fight." Roars answered his words this time, and he knew they'd do whatever he asked of them.

"Grab what you can from the dead and get ready to move. This is just getting started."

Mission log update.

Day three: This will be my final update for this mission. We failed, plain and simple. We were overmatched before we even got here, it just took us a few days to figure it out.

I'm inside the cave leading into the Rachni lair as we speak, watching a handful of my survivors grab whatever ammo they can from the dead. Well, except for Charr. The idiot was never meant for military work. He is sitting off by himself recording his last message to that asari he met a long time ago, probably spewing out yet more horrid poetry.

But that isn't the point of this log. If anyone finds these, you must finish our mission. The Rachni here have been infected by the reapers and need to be purged. I'm ordering my men to carry flamethrowers deeper into the caves... Hopefully it will be enough.

All i ask is that our sacrifice be remembered. Let Markala company be remembered for their bravery today... Even Charr's. Krell out.

"Ok scouts, time to move!" Krell ordered with a wave as his men complied, all five of them fanning out with weapons ready. "Watch those hidey holes and keep your eyes open!" He cautioned, but after a few minutes with no contact he began to wonder if maybe they were heading the wrong way.

"Got movement!"

"Press forward!" He suited his own words and charged ahead with his team close behind. The Rachni were waiting for them in the next room, but he was still looking on in awe at the sight before him. The Rachni queen towered over everything else in the room, and her shriek made him look around at the rest of her. Long metallic shackles hung from her sides and limbs, and tubes jutted from her body with a bright liquid flowing through them. Blood poured from the areas around the tubes and down her flanks, the tubes looked as though they'd been forced inside, likely with no thought to her well being.

Shaking himself and focusing on the immedieate threat, Krell charged towards cover behind a waist high rock wall. He fired into a Rachni warrior as it's cannon targeted him, the shot hitting it in one of it's massive tumors that proceeded to burst open. He pumped another round into the things hideous face before stomping the ant-like line of spiders under his boot while he sprinted forward. His team was right behind him, flame throwers belching fire into the masses.

More of the tiny rachni dropped silently from the ceiling to fall on his men, forcing them to forget about the line of rachni to try and get them off with frantic swipes and brushing. One was too close to the hole the spiders poured out of, and was soon covered in the things as they fell on him. He shrieked in pain, slapping at himself and throwing them off with violent motions until they swarmed over him in a wave of black legs and tiny squeals that finally knocked him down.

His comrades wasted no time in mourning, instead blasting his crawling corpse with flame. The smaller rachni exploded from the heat as they cooked in their exoskeletons, but the larger ones had gotten too close. They blasted and stabbed at his men from point blank range, ripping his team to literal pieces.

Krell fought for his life, unloading round after round just to keep the things from swamping his position, but he had time to see the last two members of his squad still fighting. Only one flame thrower was left, and he stood on a pile of burring rachni corpses, laughing as he held down the trigger to hear them squeal in pain. Charr too fired into the hordes.

The flamethrower's laugh turned into a shout of panic as he was grabbed from behind. Two rachni drones had grabbed each leg, yanking him off his feet and his flame thrower fell from his hands as he hit the ground. He kicked and roared his defiance, but the two rachni simply held on and continued to drag him towards a small hole in the wall. The scout was nearly crying by the time they dragged him to the hole, with him on his stomach and clawing madly at the stone around him, trying to save himself.

"No! No! No!" the two Rachni ignored his screams like one would a gnat, stuffing the large krogan through the much too small hole and into oblivion while his screams still echoed throughout the large chamber.

Charr was the last man besides himself still standing, but he was lost in blood rage. His eyes were dilated so badly it was a wonder he could see at all, much less find his targets. But he bellowed his challenge and crashed into a patch of rachni drones, tearing off limbs and stabbing furiously. He plunged a small dagger into the eye of one, and twisted his grip on another that he held in a headlock, snapping it crisply. Though he fought well for someone Krell hated, he still fell. A drone managed to score a hit along his hump with one of it's massive canons, sending him flying forwards a few yards where he got pounced on by yet more of the things.

Krell watched his team fall one by one as they fought, but the last thought was one of pride rather than loss. His men had been the first to come to grips with the rachni in over a thousand years, and though they lost, he knew he'd done all he could. When his last thermal clip ejected with a sizzling pop, he tossed it up and grabbed it by the barrel to swing it like a club. The enemy was closing in, but he had one act of defiance left in him. There was still one last way to show he would die with honor. He unclipped the belt of incendiary grenades from his waist and smiled, pulling as many pins as he could hold.

Hey everybody! Bahoogasmif here. This was just a fun little exercise for an October horror competition, I have edited it a little so hopefully its a tad more creepy/scary than it was before, but if not It's still been wicked fun to write, so i'll count it as a success. Thanks for reading and love to hear what you think!

Yours in service-

Bahoogasmif