DISCLAIMER: I do not make any money with this, and is only intended for entertainment. I do not own Mass Effect. Mass Effect belongs to Bioware and EA.
Alliance Marines: Distress Signal
The lone frigate quickly returned to sub-light speed, having reached its destination. The ship sped along on its business, attracting minimal attention. A casual passerby wouldn't have noticed it, with its sleek, black, blue and white color scheme blending seamlessly into the great expanse of space. The guns mounted on its underbelly probably would have helped heads turn the other way too. However, no one was around to notice anyway.
The SSV Solstice was a not a stealth ship, but a couple adjustments would have made it so. It was designed for reconnaissance, to keep a low profile and stay highly maneuverable. It could even support a small fire team if need be. That was why it was outfitted only with a twin-barreled GARDIAN cannon and a wide array of scanners. Granted, they were military-grade scanners and top-tier on the market, but that was a small consolation.
Scanners don't keep you safe, beefy shields and big guns do.
Brewer sat at the controls, plotting a course through the system. He'd heard the rumors that the Geth were back. After being off the radar for so long, it was possible they were using tech undetectable by even the best scanners. Their flashlight eyes could've been observing them from the horizon of the closest planet without him even knowing. But, the Geth were not the focus of the recon mission. Hell, they weren't even supposed to be in this system, with reports having them all the way over in Eden Prime. He let out a sigh, put aside his wish for a bigger gun, and checked the scanners.
And there it was. It was the signal he was expecting. Well, not the signal, but a signal. He double checked the instruments, making sure it was what it seemed to be. Confident, he knew what to do next. Pressing a button, he began to mobilize the crew.
Lieutenant Perez entered the cockpit with purposeful movements. He stood in full Alliance battle armor, minus the helmet, which rested snugly between his hand and hip.
"What've we got?" asked Perez.
"Distress signal, recorded at twenty-seven hundred hours, on the planet surface." replied Brewer.
"Is it the package?"
"I couldn't tell ya, LT," shrugged Brewer, "I don't have a visual. Got a location though. Grid echo-lima."
Perez studied the readouts, going through options in his head.
"Alright, get us close. And prep the Grizzly." Perez gave Brewer a firm pat on the back and left.
Brewer grinned. Always wanted to do a vehicle drop. He pushed the craft nose-down and sped towards the surface.
Corporal Davis sat in the driver seat of the Grizzly, the rest of 61-Gamma squad in back. The eight of them felt every jolt and bump as the ship entered the planet's atmosphere. Corporal Carver rode shotgun, and let out a short breath. Davis gave him a knowing glance. They graduated from boot camp at the same time, and had the fortune of being assigned to the same team. They wound up in several firefights against slavers near the Alliance boarder, and they were promoted quickly. Afterwards, some Special Operations Admiral caught hold of them, and they were assigned to a recon team.
Reconnaissance. Sitting in a ship, poking around in under-explored territory. Discovery might've exited some people, but to Davis and Carver, it didn't quite have the same thrill as plugging a few hostiles in an intense skirmish. Fortunately, their Commanding Officer assured them they'd be given a more combat-heavy assignment after this.
Davis felt the M8-Avenger on his back as he shifted in his seat. What was the point of even equipping them with guns if they weren't going to use them? At least he was the one who got to drive. It was the most exciting thing anyone got to do.
Brewer spoke through the Grizzly's speakers. "We drop in T-minus thirty seconds."
Lieutenant Perez stood as best he could in the confined space.
"Alright, listen up." He addressed the squad. "We picked up a ship's distress signal on the planet's surface. Intel reported only one ship is in this system. Chances are, the Package in on that downed ship. Our objective is to investigate the wreckage, secure the Package, and lug it back home."
"What about survivors?" asked Roberts, as he checked his medkit supply.
"Lookin' for someone to save? A…damsel in distress?" grinned Hudson, shifting his gaze to an adjacent seat.
"Ha ha, very funny Hudson." retorted Sergeant Lynch. "Maybe you'd like another round in the sim, so I can whup your ass again." She said.
Hudson's grin shrunk by a few teeth and Carver, who had his back to him, wore an amused smirk.
Perez cleared his throat. "The mission is to retrieve the Package, survivors are secondary."
Brewer's spoke once more. "Alright people, buckle up, hold your lunch and brace yourselves. Drop in 5…4…3…2…1!"
Davis felt the pit of his stomach ride up to his throat as the Grizzly accelerated to the surface. Large sand dunes appeared in the windshield, sprawling out in every direction. Davis hit the gas and spun the wheels, shooting the vehicle forward as it touched the ground. Someone in the back let out a loud "Who-hoo!" at the forward surge.
"Waypoint's marked." said Perez. "Carver, Hudson, you're with me. Roberts, you're with Sergeant Lynch. Grass and Clay, follow Davis."
Many kinds of affirmatives came from the marines, and after several minutes of silence, they arrived at the waypoint. A lone metallic object protruded from the sand.
Perez shook his head. "Brewer, I need you to reconfirm the coordinates. There's no ship here."
"Scans check out LT. It's there."
"Lieutenant, the planet Edolus is known for meteor impacts and sandstorms. One of them could have covered up the wreckage." said Roberts.
"Dammit. Well, I didn't bring my shovel." muttered Perez. "Alright, it's worth a look. Forget the teams. Everyone, fan out! Clay, check out that thing." He said, motioning to the metal object. "Davis, stay here and keep in touch with Brewer."
The squad put their helmets on and lined up near the exit.
Davis parked next to the object and the squad exited the Grizzly to explore the area. Clay took out a toolbox and began to pick apart the object.
"Hey, do you see it?" Brewer asked Davis.
"See what?"
"Y'know, the Package. Banes' body."
"Negative, we're still looking."
They examined the area with basic metal detectors, and when their first search found nothing, they started again, and once more.
Frustrated, Perez let out an annoyed breath.
"There's nothing here! Brewer, you need to calibrate those scanners again. Or maybe you need to learn how to use those damn scan—"
But Perez never got to finish his rant, because at that very moment, a thresher maw erupted from right under his feet.
A giant geyser of sand was thrust into the air, propelled by the momentum of the massive worm. Now, it resembled a giant pillar, shrouded in a cloud of tan granules. Rocks and sand were thrust into the air, Lieutenant Perez at the top of it all. He screamed a cry of surprise and sheer terror, a noise that never would have come from a seasoned veteran like him. The squad would've broken out in laughter at the sound, and probably would have held it to him for years.
But here, no one was laughing.
Instead, they stared as Perez arched up and down and windmilling his arms, still screaming the same, terrified scream. It continued, both falling and screaming, until he finally returned to the ground, head first, with a dull thud. It was followed by a short burst of static and then silence.
The silence sat there, heavy and thick, as it wrapped itself around the marines, making its presence known as cold sweat that rolled down their faces and backs. Davis' eyes scanned the scene, and quickly identified Roberts, but noticed he wasn't feeling through his stash of medkits. Roberts, being the squad medic, had linked up with all the team's battle armor, and had the team's vital statistics on his HUD. Surely he could identify any medical issue with Perez and use the medkit to aid him unless—
The sudden realization hit Davis, and his breath caught in his throat, but his mental conditioning made it slowly ebb away. In firefights, people went down. You could see someone, a friend, a mentor, a brother, a sister… it didn't hurt. Only when the battle was done did the pain truly settle in. The loss would hit the team hard. But now wasn't the time.
The squad stood, petrified and mute, as they watched the thresher maw heave and sway. The sand cloud was gone now, so the squad could stare at the thresher maw, and it stared back. Two small, beady eyes stared at the marines, sending the images to its equally-sized brain to be processed. But there was no analysis, breakdown, or any high-level function. Just a primal instinct from near the beginning of time, but unlike any other. It was a hunter's instinct that dominated its every move. It felt no need to stalk, chase, observe, or adapt… only to strike.
And to kill.
It let out a loud screech that broke the marines from their statue-like trance before burrowing into the sand.
Sergeant Lynch was the first to recover, and, as being second in command to Perez, was now in control. "Everybody MOVE!" She yelled, simultaneously drawing her weapon and taking steps back, starting a coordinated retreat.
The rest followed suit, drawing weapons and backing up as well, forming some kind of jagged V with Lynch in the middle. The marines broke any kind of silence with gunfire, call-outs and battle chatter. Clay hastily began to pack up their equipment as the squad provided cover fire. Unfortunately, the low caliber of the M8 did little against the armored plates of the thresher maw.
Davis watched through the windshield as the thresher dove down then back up, like a huge demonic sand dolphin, spraying another burst of sand in the air. It reappeared next to Hudson, who dove out of the way just in time. Seeing Hudson break formation, Grass did as well, as he rushed next to Clay to help him.
Davis spoke into the communicator. "Brewer, we need emergency evac, our location. Careful, the LZ's hot!"
Outside, the squad continued to pepper the thresher maw in a scattered formation until they noticed that it appeared to be drooling. A small, steady stream of green spit fell from its mouth to the ground and its head reeled back to the sky, like it was going to sneeze. Instead, it spewed a large glob of acid right towards the marines.
"GET DOWN!" hollered Lynch, and the squad dropped onto their stomachs, except for Grass and Clay.
The acid sailed well over the squad and impacted harmlessly into the sand, but the thresher maw readjusted itself and prepared to launch another. This one flew high over the squad and towards… towards Grass and Clay, who were oblivious to the firefight.
Carver noticed this, and sprinted towards them. He beat the projectile by a second, and gave Grass and Clay a good shove, pushing them out of the danger zone. But a second wasn't enough time to get them away, and escape too. The blob hit Carver directly and he was consumed in a splash of green. The acid hissed and immediately ate through his body armor. It seeped through, coming in contact with his skin. It broke down the organic material faster than the metal armor, and so in moments there was nothing left. Nothing, save for his helmet that rolled gently, in plain view of the Grizzly.
Davis saw it, tinted green by the acidic slime that covered it and blackened by its strength.
He felt a tightening in his chest, and warmth behind his eyes, but he choked that down too. He balled his fists and leaned on the control panel. The skirmish continued outside, muffled sounds of the battle echoing around the cabin. Slowly, he built his determination back up, and he knew what he was going to do. He'd make that son of a bitch pay. His fingers danced over the controls as he brought the Grizzly's mounted cannon to life.
The thresher maw lunged again and again at the squad, burrowing back into the sand immediately after to strike somewhere else. It attacked with dives, needle-like claws and acidic spit, the combination unknowingly keeping the squad scattered and pinned. Roberts sat with Grass and Clay, treating acid burns from the splash. Lynch was far to their left and fired at the thresher's face whenever she could. Hudson was several meters in front of Roberts, Grass and Clay, firing his shotgun into the thresher maw.
The mounted cannon was now ready to fire, and the gunner seat dropped down from the roof of the Grizzly. Davis hurried over and sat down, gripping the triggers in his hands. The targeting screen was like a dome, and provided a 360-degree top view around the Grizzly. Focused, he lined up the crosshairs on the thresher maw's ugly face. Just as he was about to squeeze the triggers, he heard a sound that startled him. It was a sound he never expected in this situation, a single pitched tone that pierced through the Grizzly's cabin. Davis could see the control panel from the gunner seat, and a quick look told him everything he needed. A small red light pulsed on the panel.
Weapon lock.
Someone was targeting the Grizzly. Davis faced the targeting screen and looked around, the cannon swiveling to match his view. He scanned the battle, the horizon, on the sand dunes, but saw nothing. A glint in the sky got his attention and he shifted his gaze skyward. He saw the SSV Solstice, weapons hot and flying fast to enter the battle. But it was targeting the Grizzly, not the thresher maw.
"Brewer, you need to adjust your aim, you are targeting the Grizzly."
There was no response. The tone continued to drone on.
"Brewer, do you copy?" Davis tried to think of all the possibilities as to what was going on. He could only think of one.
"Brewer, the mission's been compromised. This was a trap and the ship's been sabotaged. You need to recalibrate or reboot the systems or something…"
Nothing changed. The ship zoomed in faster, now within striking distance. Panic took over now, and Davis frantically tried to reach Brewer over the comm.
"Brewer, hold your fire! I repeat, hold your fire! Brewer, respond!"
"I copy."
Relief poured into Davis, numbing the panic that grasped him only moments ago.
"You need to break off," said Davis, "something's wrong with the ship, its auto targeting friendlies." Davis waited for an answer, and eyed the ship as it continued its approach.
"Brewer?"
"I copy Davis, there's no problem."
Something about this set Davis on alert. There was a short silence as he collected his thoughts.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Sending a message." Brewer's voice was different. Not the pitch or the phrasing, but the tone, now hard as steel.
"A message? For what?"
"A message for Admiral Kahoku. Telling him to stop digging where he shouldn't. And stop messing with Cerberus."
Davis' head was spinning. None of what Brewer had said made any sense, and was only left with more questions. Rear Admiral Kahoku? What was their Commanding Officer doing? What was Cerberus? He tried to grasp on to something that he could understand, sifting through his thoughts. In the end, Brewer did make one thing clear: he wasn't going to swoop in and save the day.
Davis lined up his sights and fired on the Solstice, half a second after the Solstice fired its two bursts. Davis saw them, and quickly left the gunners seat. He snatched his helmet off the floor and put it on, hearing the hiss as his suit sealed and pressurized. He ran to the exit, trying to beat the two laser bursts that were rushing towards the Grizzly.
He nearly made it, but the jolt of the impact caused him to lose his footing. The high energy turned the armored exterior of the Grizzly into molten metal. The two circular areas deformed and caved in, dripping into the interior of the vehicle – right over Davis' head. He quickly scrambled up and out of the Grizzly, a single droplet of metal landing on his right shoulder pad as he did.
His suit warned him, flashing DANGER: HEAT SINK FAILING on his HUD, and he quickly ripped the pad off and dropped it onto the sand. It made a soft crackling as the nearby sand formed a thin layer of glass. Now out of immediate danger, his eyes returned upwards.
The Solstice was not so lucky. It and the laser met head on, scoring a direct hit. While the Grizzly was only left with two gaping holes in its roof, the Solstice was billowing out a steady stream of black smoke from its originally airtight hull. Davis followed the black streak to its source, and saw it struggling, but managing, to fly upwards. He didn't know a lot about ships, but was certain there was little it could do in its state.
Davis drew his weapon and ran to what was left of his squad. A quick minute jog and he was in the firefight. He slid into cover beside Lynch, noting that Grass and Clay looked patched up enough to stand.
"What's our move Sergeant?"
Lynch fired a quick burst before answering.
"There's a mountain cluster, about one klick behind us. We're going to run for it. The thresher maw can't break through the rocks there, so we can hold out until…" She paused, but didn't continue her sentence.
"The Solstice is gone."
"I know. I heard it." She tapped on her helmet communicator. "Nobody's coming to save us. We're on our own."
A spray of acid brought them back to the moment. "Okay," Lynch spoke over the comm, "we move on my mark! 10…9…"
Davis turned towards the mountains. Towards safety. But there was one kilometer of flat, wide, open dune in between. His heart beat quickened, and anxiety grasped him. He had no idea how Grass or Clay were going to make it. He doubted they could even walk.
"…5…4…3…"
Davis cleared his mind and took in a deep breath. There were only a few muscles he needed right now, and they were all in his legs.
"…1…GO, GO, GO!"
The squad sprang into action, Lynch and Davis taking the lead, while Grass and Clay hobbled behind, somehow managing to keep pace. Roberts escorted them, firing blindly backwards. Only Hudson stayed.
The thresher maw saw its prey running away, and screeched.
"Hudson, GO!" Davis cried.
"Hudson, MOVE YOUR ASS!" Lynch barked.
The thresher maw arched to dive down into the sand and follow the escaping marines. Hudson pumped his shotgun and aimed over his boulder. He was close, practically underneath the thresher maw. Hudson could see its armored plates shifting and grinding – and cracks in it, worn down by sand and time.
"Not this time. I'm going to hurt it." And with that, he fired.
The shot scattered and impacted on its armor, but three pellets made it through and managed to hit the soft flesh underneath. Its alien blood visibly trickled out of its wounds and Hudson stood up to cheer. However, thresher maw did something nobody expected: it stopped in mid-dive. Underground, the hundreds of appendages that dotted the side of its body shot out into the sand, halting all movement. It slithered backward and turned to face its assailant.
"Oh, crap." breathed Hudson. The thresher maw screeched, and he raised his shotgun again and pumped rounds into the creature's face.
"Run, Hudson!" Somebody screamed.
But there was nowhere to run. So Hudson stayed, firing blast after blast of pellets. The thresher maw raised its right needle-claw and struck down, impaling Hudson through the length of his body. It entered through his head and traveled all the way down, nearly splitting him in two. Davis watched as the thresher maw pulled its claw up, easily slipping out of victim now that it was coated, slick with blood. Hudson's body fell to its knees, then slumped forward, face-first into the sand.
The thresher maw screeched again, snapping Davis out of his trance, and then it dove into the sand to continue its assault. He turned, and chased after his squad, who had about a 10 second lead. We didn't even make it past the Grizzly yet, thought Davis solemnly.
Everyone was quiet, only the sound of steady breathing through the comm and his heartbeat were the only things Davis could hear. They even slowed to a jog to lessen the crunching of sand beneath their boots, so they could hear anything. A rumble, a growl, a screech, anything to tell where the thresher maw was.
For a few moments, there was dead silence.
Then, the thresher maw erupted out of the ground in front of the squad, the damaged Grizzly the only cover between the squad and it. Lynch quickly ran to the Grizzly, standing flush against the metal. Roberts, Clay and Grass scurried to get behind the Grizzly as well, but Davis knew they weren't going to make it. He could see the thresher maw reel back, as it had before it attacked Carver and Hudson. He sprinted, but he was too far away to get there in time.
"LYNCH!" he yelled, pointing at the thresher maw.
Her gaze followed his finger and she too, realized what was going to happen. She hesitated for a moment, weighing what she could even do to help. She finally raised her rifle and fired at the thresher maw as it lunged down. It arced over the Grizzly and slammed hard into the ground, managing to land its blow on all three marines. Slowly, it lifted itself off their bodies and retreated back under the sand.
Lynch holstered her rifle and she ran to check on her fallen teammates. Davis was already there, and rolled over the nearest body. He looked into the visor to check on the marine, and found it was covered with a spray of blood from the inside. Feeling sick, his eyes traced the helmet and settled on its side, reading the name that was written in bold letters.
GRASS
He turned over to Lynch who was kneeling beside Roberts, whose glassy eyes stared blankly into the sky.
"There was something…I should've…" she whispered.
"I don't think there wasn't a lot you could've done, Lynch."
She nodded, but Davis could read the doubt still etched on her face. A sharp breath interrupted them, and they turned to see Clay shuddering in the sand.
"Clay!" yelled Lynch.
"C'mon, let's get you out of here." said Davis as he helped prop him up.
Clay let out a scream through gritted teeth, and so Davis quickly put him back down.
"What's wrong with him?" Davis muttered.
"Ungh…ribs…broken…" gasped Clay. "Can feel it…jabbing my lung…"
"Hurry up Davis, we don't have much time before that thing comes back."
"Just…Agh! Just…go…" Clay managed. "I'd only slow you down…"
"I'm sorry." Said Davis, and left his side. He followed Lynch and they stacked up behind the Grizzly, and prepared to finish their mad dash. Lynch poked her head around the corner and took a quick look around.
"You," she said to Davis, "are not going to die on me."
"Yes ma'am," he acknowledged. They rounded the corner and broke out into a run.
Lynch took a step, right onto the glass layer around Davis' discarded shoulder plate. It cracked under her boot, but she kept running. Davis noticed the ground, which he swore had been flat, now had the smallest pile of sand, right in Lynch's path. He knew what that was, without a doubt. He put everything into his next step and leaped towards Lynch.
He cried "Look out!" before tackling her to the ground. He grabbed her and pulled her back. The thresher maw punched through the sand once more, sending the duo tumbling backwards. It was close, and Davis could feel the thresher's side claws cutting into his armor. They rolled back towards the Grizzly, back to where they started.
Davis rolled into the metal object that stuck out of the sand, bringing him to a stop. He sat up against the object slowly, noting the thresher maw that loomed above, as if admiring its own handiwork. His hand checked his back, and he felt the once sleek armor was now jagged and sharp around a horizontal slash. His M8 was cut off at the barrel and useless, and he felt severed wires. His armor was no longer powered, which meant no shields, no HUD, no comm…no air recycler. His time was ticking away slowly, and he could see his breath fogging his visor already.
"Lynch." He saw her, lying right next to him, face in the sand.
"Lynch," he repeated, while rolling her over and propping her up next to him. She stared back, eyes fearful, as her hand rested on her stomach. No, he noticed, not resting. Clutching. Her glove covered a deep gash in her chest plate and was soaked red with her own blood.
He was no medic, but emergency first aid was part of basic training. He put her down gently, lying on her back.
Apply pressure. His hands covered the wound pressed down firmly. The bulky gloves were unable to cover the whole wound, and he could see blood oozing through the openings.
I need gauze. A cloth. He looked around for something, but there was only sand and corpses. He could use the jumpsuit underneath her armor, but couldn't take it off, as it was the only thing giving her breathable air.
"Don't die on me now." Said Davis, but his powerless comm registered nothing, and she stared blankly back. She tried to talk back too, but the environmental helmets covered their mouths, preventing lip reading. Finally, she just shook her head, and reached towards his hands. She lifted them off and they fell back to his side. Her bloody glove reached up to his helmet and held his head in her hand.
He didn't know what to do. There was nothing he could do. So he let her. He studied her face and waited for something to happen. Eventually, her hand left his face, leaving behind her red handprint, and her eyes lost their focus. He saw the pool of blood she now lay in and left her in it.
Davis slumped back against the object and stared at the thresher maw. Damn you, he thought. It all he could muster. He tilted his head down, but was amazed by what he saw. Clay was crawling to him, slowly and painfully. Davis stared at him, wondering what he could possibly be doing, and worrying about a punctured lung wound as Clay made his way closer. His eyes were watering from the pain as he struggled to move across the sand. Clay's skin was also pale, and slick with sweat. He collapsed not too far away and gave up. Instead, he pointed at Davis. No, above Davis. Davis' eyes followed his finger and noticed an open panel on the object.
He looked back at Clay, but he was now limp in the sand too. Davis stood up, and turned to the panel, no longer worried of the thresher maw. There was something important in here. Something Clay wanted him to see, so he opened it and looked inside. There, attached to an amplifier was a ship transponder. Davis knew, with absolute certainty that it was from the ship they were supposed to be tracking. He tore it out of the machine to keep anyone else from falling victim to the thresher maw. He was about to toss it when he noticed something else.
Engraved on it, was a black C facing down, surrounded by an orange U that was split down the middle to match the gap in the C. Cerberus. It was the only thing that would have fit, or made sense. His head reeled back. Earlier, he had been right. This was all a trap. His jaw tightened and he knew somebody needed to pay.
Some rough, last ditch plan formed in his mind. He quickly disconnected his communicator from his helmet and attached it to the amplifier, the device powering his comm. He activated its emergency distress signal and broadcast it to military channels. It was a gamble, but he was betting that whoever touched down next would be better equipped. He eyed the lifeless body of Lynch, and hoped they could recover the bodies too before they were covered by sand. They deserved to have a proper burial. Lastly, he put the transponder right in the opening, with the orange-black logo facing him. He was confident he had made it clear enough. Only an idiot wouldn't have been able to put the pieces together.
He heard the telltale screech and he closed the panel enough so that the next person could find it easily. Davis broke out into a run, pumping his arms and not looking back. He felt the ground rumble as the thresher maw gave chase. He turned to see how the thresher maw was keeping up, and saw it arcing down, about to land right on top of him. Its tentacle-mouth was spread wide as it thundered to the ground.
He didn't even scream as they disappeared into the sand.
Author's Note:
Hello, and thank you for taking the time to read through this, and I hope you enjoyed it.
I've had this idea sitting in my head for a while, and it's changed a lot in the transition from mind to paper (or, well, text :P). I first thought of it as just a straight-up massacre for the squad, and I never imagined it would reach anywhere near 5k words. This took about two months to write, and as my first fanfic, I wanted to make sure it was a quality product.
During the writing process, small things made their way in or changed in a way that made sense to me, like the shoulder pad and the glass, the touchy-feely stuff, and pretty much all the dialogue. All of that just kind of came out in the writing process, I thought that it… well, I'll just leave it up to you, the reader, to decide.
All feedback would be much appreciated.