A wave of nausea and dizziness drove Alexandra to her knees, her head spinning as she dug her fists into her stomach. A spiralling pain tore through her torso, twining itself around her spine, oily tentacles grasping hold and probing upwards. Her stomach twisted... and she tried to lift her head towards the light, her hand stretching out towards the source. It was so beautiful. A shimmer of blues and purples... aqua and cerulean-tinged gold swirling together in the void ahead of her.
Got to reach it...
Alexandra was never sure why, she just knew the pain drove her onwards,as if the light would provide relief. She started to crawl towards it, whimpering as the agony skewered barbs of twisted wire through her nerves, driving forcibly towards any point of exit. Her eyes, her ears... any channel it could find, until it felt like she'd fly apart... her pain giving birth to the chimera inside of her... the monster she couldn't rid herself of. If only she could reach it... the light ahead. Refuge. Sanctuary.
Her palms dug into the ground as she crawled... her palms slick with sweat and blood as she scrambled forever onwards, the light never seeming to get any closer. Alexandra bit down into her lip... a moan turning into a howl of pained frustration, salty tears pricking at her eyes.
It's not fair! I... She screamed into the darkness. Why are you doing this to me?! Why?!
… and woke... bathed in sweat, her stomach heaving as a band of pain tightened across her forehead. Alexandra scrambled frantically for the bucket beside her bed, fighting tears as she vomited yellow bile into it. The metallic tang against her tongue made her heave again, bitter saliva flowing into her mouth, and she spat it out in contempt, her limbs shaking as she pushed aside the covers and stumbled her way to the bathroom, clinging to the bucket in her arms.
She groaned under her breath as she turned the tap of the sink, the icy water a blessing as it tingled soothingly on her skin. She rinsed the bucket, sloshed some disinfectant at the bottom and then turned her attention to her face. I look a fucking state. She admonished herself as her gaunt reflection stared back at her. Skin glassy pale, eyes red-rimmed and blood streaked. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on the cool mirror and slowed her breathing until she'd calmed herself. Her nightmare was fading, but the pain remained as ghostly ripples through her abdomen.
She sighed, legs still trembling slightly as she made her way back into the bedroom, her hand tracing the walls to guide her. The bed linen was soaked with sweat, and Alexandra pulled it off in disgust, restlessly throwing it onto a heap on the floor. She rubbed her eyes and contemplated making the bed afresh, then gave it up as she glanced out of the window and saw the tell tale sign of the sun starting to rise. Too wired anyway...she muttered to herself under her breath, and made her way to the computer in the corner of the room. She clicked on the lamp and blinked at the harsh light glaring harshly from the monitor, pushing aside her notebook from the keyboard.
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as her hand passed over the un-opened letter she'd been stoically ignoring for a day. It hovered instead over the plastic case of the game she'd been keeping as a treat for when things got bad. She picked it up, un-clicking the case, enjoying the crisp sound and the wafting smell of new plastic, releasing the silvery disc with a half guilty look over her shoulder. She pushed it into the disc drive and reached out a shaky hand to the half drunk glass of water beside the computer raising it to her parched lips. Her eyes never left the monitor as it flickered to life, the image on the screen one of fiery and furious destruction. A single phrase blinked at her...
Press START.
...and Alexandra smiled wistfully to herself as her heart thudded in her chest and her fingers moved to the keyboard. "Come on then, Shephard. Let's see if we can do this."
-o-
"We fight, or we die."
The words Eve Shephard had spoken to the Defence Committee rang like a mantra in her ears as she and Anderson ran head long through chaos towards wherever in that inferno of a horizon the Normandy was. Fight or die. Fight or die. The air in her lungs felt like liquid fire as she pumped her arms to the rhythm and sprinted after Anderson's retreating back. Not for the first time since she'd met him all those years ago she wondered where the hell he got his energy from. I'm at least half his age, damn it, and I still can't catch the man.
She redoubled her efforts and fell in beside him, thankful for the familiar weight of the Phalanx pistol she'd taken from a fallen Alliance soldier in her hand. Her fingers gripped it tight... too tight, and Eve scowled at the fear causing the tension. Sort it out, woman, you don't have time for this! She forced herself to breathe, to scan her surroundings.
Reapers.
Everywhere.
Descending from the skies, their claws flexing with menace as they grasped whatever entered their path. Buildings destroyed, vehicles scattered... and the people... God, the people... Eve's eyes hardened as a wave of icy resolve flowed through her, steeling her as her chest tightened. She glanced at Anderson and met the man's dark eyes with understanding. They dug their heals in and ran harder... until a Reaper's boom joined with an explosion of masonry and twisted metal and Eve was flung from her feet.
The vibrations resonated through her even as she was tossed through the air like a rag doll. The noise drilled through her, seeming to come both from within and without her at the same time. It struck deep and menacing, ripping through her body and speaking directly to the primitive part of her mind, seeking to paralyse through fear. Eve moaned as her body was slammed into the floor, her breath exploding from her chest. Her ears still ringing, she narrowed her eyes in anger and struggled to re-focus as the dust settled. The booms seemed distant now, everything out of sync as she struggled to push herself upright.
She blinked and found a hand grasping hers, tugging her to her feet. "Come on, get up girl." Anderson muttered, glancing around them, trying to get his bearings. Eve snorted and hefted herself up, her eyes also darting about. They'd slid down a few levels, and were now on the street, streets being frantically emptied of shell-shocked civilians by equally terrified Alliance and Police Officers.
"Still ordering me about, old man?"
"Humph... live with it, soldier." He winked at her wryly, a weary sparkle dancing behind his eyes that faded as the echoes of more explosions vibrated through them. He tapped his Omni-tool in frustration. "Major Alenko, report. What's your location?"
Static. Then an inaudible voice crackling in the dusty air. Anderson puffed in exasperation and shook the Omni-tool uselessly, an obsolete gesture left over from generations past when technology failed to work, Shepherd realised, and was reminded again of her mentor's age.
Eve put her hand on his shoulder and nodded forwards. "We should keep going. Try to find a radio."
Anderson frowned, but took off in a jog and Eve scrambled after him, wincing slightly at a tell tale ache along her left hand side. "We've got to get you to that ship." He told her. "... and from there to the Citadel. We need the combined forces of all our allies if we're going to stand even the slightest chances against these things."
"Me?" Eve muttered under her breath, her head still groggy from her fall... then stopped, cocking her head to one side as she listened intently. Beyond the booms of the reapers, and the screams of the civilian population there was another sound. A growling rumble, something animalistic coming from the rubble ahead of them. She half raised her left hand in a gesture to slow and realised that Anderson had already moved to her side, his pistol in his hands. Eve activated her omni-tool on instinct before gripping her own pistol with both hands, crouching low as she edged forward.
There was movement ahead. Five figures emerging from the remains of what were once crisp and tidy office buildings. Unlike the panicked civilians these figures were unhurried and appeared to be scavenging, picking their way through the wreckage on the streets.
Eve squinted at them, then moaned softly under her breath. "Anderson, those are..."
"Husks." He finished grimly, lowering his voice. "They're husks."
"Yeah, but, not, not the usual kind. Those are different." Her eyes widened as she observed them, taking everything in and filing it away. Sickening guilt washed over her as she took in their features. Unmistakably Batarian. Multiple eyes, a wide mouth opened in an eternal scream, a mockery of the pride of their race. A bulbous, cancerous back supported the weight of a hand cannon... a cannon that had been integrated into the creatures' flesh. Eve felt her stomach clench and her muscles flinched. Is that my fault? My choices weakened and destroyed the Batarians' ability to defend what was left... God... Her inner doubt flailed in a panic, the husks moving closer, the smell of decaying flesh washing over her.
You made the choice you had to. The only choice you could.
The only choice I could? Right.
She tensed, then flexed, poised on the balls of her feet, ready to launch herself forwards. Then did just that, tossing a standard sentry turret into the mix before activating a stream of subatomic particles that snapped at the creatures as she charged, freezing the nearest to a solid block of ice before it jumped to the next, sheathing it in thick frost. A frost that tinkled in a pleasant paradox as it cracked and fell to the floor as number two flexed its muscles with a growl. A growl that Anderson echoed as his pistol emptied a clip into the first's monstrous torso until it rang with the unmistakable tones of over heating, the impact causing the husk to shatter with the clash of a hundred glasses breaking. "Bloody hell, Shephard, will you warn me when you're going to..."
But she was gone, charging forwards as her fingers fluttered over her omni-tool activating a shower of fiery plasma directed straight into the hideous and twisted scream of the second husk. Twisting with the grace of a dancer Eve spun and then dropped low into a crouch, taking in the rest of the field. Anderson was frowning as he ducked behind some wreckage, his pistol barking out single shots as the remaining three husks ignored the humans as the turret did its work of distract and divide.
She calculated which husk had the most damage done to it and raised her pistol, hesitating for a split second, then gulped as one of the creature's fell... and the remaining two fell upon it, scrabbling over each other in a feeding frenzy. Eve watched aghast as they ignored the fire power of her turret in their race to feed upon their fallen comrade. Cannibals? What the fuc...?! and the Normandy appeared behind them, its side hatches opening.
The cavalry... She noted with a sinking feeling in her stomach as she spied the unmistakable form of Kaidan. She cocked an eyebrow at Anderson and smirked suddenly. "You going to let them steal our glory, old man?!" He grinned back at her, and they both ran at the remaining pair of husks, pistols striking true as they jumped over their hunched forms and sprinted for the ship ahead of them.
Eve ran through the nightmare. She ran and sensed electricity in the air as she passed through it, sparks and flames seemed to careen over her skin as she leaped and flew towards the Normandy. She kept her eyes on the ever growing figure of Alenko, focussed on him, yet unable to block her periphery vision completely. Reapers. Her chest tightened and burned. They were here. On her ground. In her home, damn it. It made her blood boil with frustration and rage.
And fear. Fear that everything she'd known and loved was slipping through her fingers.
With the Normandy suddenly looming she leaned forwards, bracing her feet on the ground and digging her toes into the soles of her boots, wondering with a sudden and random clarity of thought if she'd ever feel the Earth's soil under her again. She hit the deck with a grunt and rolled to take the impact, shaking off what she thought was Alenko's hand on her shoulder as she rose and turned to catch Anderson's hand.
But it never appeared in the opening.
She clung to the edge of the hatch as the ship bobbed and weaved over the surface of what was left of the city, struggling to maintain her balance as she eyed Anderson's motionless figure standing isolated in the killing ground beneath them.
He jabbed his finger in her direction and raised his voice to a shout above the ship's engines. "The Citadel! Get Earth her allies!"
Oh, HELL no...
Eve's mouth opened in a retort as she moved to jump back to the ground but was held back by a burly arm from behind her as the Normandy swerved suddenly to avoid a fiery missile from above.
"You make the Council listen, girl. I'll be counting on you." He held her gaze, making sure his message hit home before she nodded brusquely, shrugging off whatever grunt's arm was holding her firm with an angry snarl.
Anderson grinned suddenly, his features impish with mischief as he tossed something to her... something small and metallic that glinted in the air, reflecting the sparks in the sky before it entered the hold, sliding along the floor until it came to a halt. Eve made no attempt to catch it, instead watching as Anderson turned, raising his hand in a lazy farewell before he darted into the maelstrom. She managed to fabricate a single, hasty Defence Drone on his position before Normandy's engines flared for space flight, and the hatch doors sealed with a hiss in front of her face.
She turned, noting without acknowledging his hurried salute that the 'burly grunt's arm' belonged to James Vega, former guard and enforced Poker buddy before she caught Alenko's earnest look.
Ignoring him she activated her communicator as she felt Normandy tilt and soar.
"Joker, I assume you're flying this thing?"
"Surgically attached and never..."
She walked over to where Anderson's thrown object had landed and bent to reach it, curling her fingers over the rounded edges in a nostalgic caress.
"Take us to the Citadel, get us out of here."
"Well... sure, but Hackett's on the comm and..."
Eve barely heard the words as she looked down at her hand, uncurling her fingers with a sigh. Her tags... and with it the weight of duty that came with them. She pushed past the two men in front of her and made her way to the Comm Room. "Alenko, you know what to do."
She paced away, tossing her head slightly as she let the tags fall over her head and slide under her uniform. "You stupid bastard." She muttered under her breath.
Author's note
One of my favourite quotes from ME3 is from Bailey when he talks about the 'end of days', but darn it if that title hadn't already been taken! Not to be deterred I fell upon 'Eschaton'... which essentially means the same thing. End of days. Judegement Day... it all fits with the wonderful mess that Bioware created, so I went with it.
On a personal note, this is the first thing I've been able to write in what seems like forever - I'm RUSTY. I apologise and I'll aim to improve asap!
On a technical note, I'm an emotional player... not a great technical genius. Correct me on all my inconsistencies if you like, I'll be grateful, but behind the scenes I'll probably just blink at you!
A message for Setrus who told me "We fight, or we die." is the worst strategic advice he's ever heard. Stop ruining my fun. ;-) Thanks for jumping to my every whim. :-)