Chapter 1 – What Was Lost
When one side of a conflict becomes incapable of offering meaningful resistance while the other rampages on, it is less appropriate to call it a fight; words like "slaughter" come to mind instead. In the case of Samantha Shepard's Pandora base, the transition from battle to rout happened relatively quickly. Biotics led by Jack and Brick overran defenses intended to handle wildlife or the occasional conventional soldier as opposed to highly-empowered individuals such as those trained by the KOMBT school. Many of Shepard's forcibly-impressed soldiers gave up and fled when faced with overwhelming odds—being career criminals, undesirables, and generally less-than-upstanding individuals instead of those who would have followed their Commander into Hell itself.
In a few hours, the base had been utterly trashed.
Turrets which once pointed their watchful barrels skyward drooped like wilted flowers, overheated from constant fire. Once-shiny armor plate now bore massive score marks from kinetic and energy impacts. Within the structure's confines, virtually everything taller than a meter had been obliterated to deny anyone shelter from mass-accelerator and blaster rounds crisscrossing the battlefield. One such round impacted a water fountain—removing the gum which had been stuck to its tray, and the tray. Really, the whole top of the water fountain. Still, it no longer had gum in it! If Commander Shepard has been conscious of it, she would have approved. That said, the loss of an opportunity to drop someone in the skag den might have brought about another tantrum…
The massive white flash later dubbed the Cosmic Cleansing Sphere passed over the wrecked base and its combatants without apparently doing much of anything, though as was later noted all Reaper technology under study simply disappeared.
Brick had to reign in the "Psychotic Biotics" as it became clear the battle, if it could be called that, was mostly over. A few of Shepard's mercenaries were foolish enough to keep fighting, though they went down fast. Between the Iron Abs and Jack's squad, only minor injuries were reported as the mop-up finished.
"Spread out, and find the Commander!" he barked.
Brick realized he could simply return to where he'd hammered the crazy woman into the ground, but somehow, he didn't want to see the galaxy's former paragon like that again. He hadn't heard from Jack either—she'd gone up to Infinity to help Maya, Lilith, and others take the ship for some undetermined purpose. He waited, and hoped.
"Search party three to Brick! Shepard is alive."
[…]
Despite the sudden disappearance of the Reaper threat, Xytler's fleet remained as disorganized and chaotic as ever. The bounties and trinkets handed out by command to encourage Reaper-killing significantly reduced cohesion among a population already hungry for individual glory.
Xytler also realized without the Reaper/Harvester threat, his grip on power would be severely weakened. What was left of the Citadel Council had tolerated his rise due to an existential threat—now that threat was gone. As to the why, no one had any idea. Though, in what seemed to be an interesting coincidence, several of his gunnery chiefs (who had been appointed when Republic captains refused to carry out the controversial orders), personally overseen the controversial Base Delta Zeroes against mostly-civilian worlds sympathetic to Sapiens' Shield dropped dead of heart attacks soon after the "big white flash."
Struggling to organize his fleet without any overriding purpose, Xytler resorted to yelling over the comm. Each dress-down was tailored to exploit the weaknesses of the individual captain, but it boiled down to this. What is acceptable in wartime can constitute war crimes in peacetime. Even winning the war may not be enough to keep us out of the courtroom. Only I can protect you, so you better make sure I am in a favorable mood when your name comes up.
Whether the "following orders" defense would actually work remained another matter, but Xytler didn't emphasize that line of thought to his subordinates. Legal theory surrounding the theory of "command responsibility" went all over the map. Much ink had been spilled on this subject over the centuries of warfare that occurred within and between species.
Humans had seen the argument both successfully and unsuccessfully invoked. Among the turians, such a defense often incurred greater punishment, for permitting or encouraging subordinates to break laws violated the basic covenant between leader and led.
With the Reapers gone, many Republic captains were reasserting their authority vs. the bloodthirsty turian. The coincidental deaths of Xytler's representatives aboard their ships only encouraged them. Anna Erickson held back more than once—but this time she pulled no punches.
"First, he corrupted Samantha Shepard and Lilith Cashlin. Then, when Systems Alliance, Hierarchy, Union, and asari Republic soldiers refused to debase themselves doing his dirty work, he replaced them with the scum of the galaxy."
Said scum had been locked in several cargo bays aboard Endless Calm, some forcibly. Under ordinary circumstances, Republic officers would not have cooperated with an individual who massacred civilians, disregarded established protocols, and ran his fleet like a dictatorship. However, the principle of least-harm took precedence at this point. Republic forces were limited, had still needed to defend against an invader that would slaughter the entire galaxy they'd found themselves in when the monster took command, and faced with hybrid super-ships containing many Republic-driven technological advances that could give Star Destroyers serious competition. Any attempt to stop the carnage would have led to the deaths of many Republic personnel on top of those already marked for slaughter by the insane admiral. TGR captains bided their time by distancing themselves from Xytler and his acts, forcing him to replace them with his own men. With the sudden departure of Reapers from this plane of existence, that time had come.
Lilith's death was not known at the time to anyone except those who had ejected from the doomed Infinity. These individuals currently tumbled about in escape pods.
Lilith left this world believing some of her compatriots had followed her to the great beyond. However, this was not to be—Garrus, Marcus, Jack, and Moxxi crammed into the first pod. The second pod's occupants experienced a rougher ride, but it wasn't anything Michael, Maya, and Tannis hadn't experienced before in crazy drives on Pandora itself. The third pod auto-launched due to a hardware malfunction and it was the one which ended up being destroyed. Due to system damage, EDI was unable to determine whether the pod was occupied, so she just told Lilith what she knew (that the pod had launched and been destroyed in the ship's wake).
Accepting even dealing with the nutjob Xytler or his forces remained preferable to dying in the wilderness, both pods turned on their locator beacons. It was this which spurred Erickson's call to action.
"Now, we strike out to rescue those left behind in this trail of destruction!" she shouted. "Shepard may be beyond saving, but many of the crew of her ship were heroes in their own right—and they need our help."
Giving the order for the helm to take Endless Calm almost suicidally deep into Pandora's atmosphere, she hoped the whole "weightlessness" portion of the mass effect technology could hold up. "Increase negative current to the eezo core!"
Of course, though Endless Calm's lower mass would make maneuvering in the atmosphere easier, it would also cause the ship to be more affected by any opposing forces (like wind shear). Not designed to operate planetside, Infinity-class dreadnaughts possessed no repulsors or similar tech that might've otherwise stabilized Erickson's attempted rescue (aerodynamics not resembling a flying brick would have also helped). The ship's only method of maintaining lift was sheer speed, just as Aspirations Toward Infinity had done, until it ultimately crashed on purpose.
Never mind the means of capturing the escape pods. Barely any thought had gone into this. Again, the specialization of the Infinity design meant that items standard on Trans-Galactic Republic vessels of similar size or purpose remained absent. No tractor beams or hangers. However, a device built into the ship for nefarious reasons would have a chance to be used for a better purpose: the magnetic sled attachment points which were supposed to hold cryogenically frozen biotics in a rapid-deployment mechanism would instead hopefully be able to pull the pods to the hull. No guarantees about soft docking, but it beat either being tumble-dried in Pandora's atmosphere or a possible nasty landing on the planet's surface in the unmapped northern regions.
"So, basically we fly as close to the pods as possible, dial the magnets up to maximum, and hope no one dies if the pods slam into the hull."
Turning to her operations officer, Erickson gave a curt nod. "We know we'll catch the pods, it's just a matter of what we find when we open them up."
"Just be warned, ma'am, running the magnets at this power might buckle the hull if two of them start attracting or repelling each other as we are powering them way over spec" came the reply.
"Understood. How much longer until we reach them?"
"About two minutes before we're going to dip below the minimum altitude that we can expect to climb back up before hitting the mountains on the other side of the pole." Indeed, the ship's altitude decreased slowly but steadily as Endless Calm hammered toward the lifepods.
"Noted." Erickson knew her ship might get splattered, but she had confidence in her ship and crew. Besides, given the Republic task force's apparent blasé passivity toward Xytler in the name of stopping the Reapers, someone had to do something heroic.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Garrus might have been commenting on the time of day. Marcus couldn't believe these people.
"Does anything ever bother you?" he spluttered. "We're tumbling around in a metal box with no control, no sign of rescue, and most importantly, no parachute!" A look of panic spread across his face as he waved the mostly-pictographic lifeboat manual manual around. Indeed, no mention of parachutes could be found anywhere.
"Well," flanged the reply, "in this case I see no reason to worry. Not the most well-calibrated rescue, but it'll do."
"Would you just tell me what the hell is going on?" bellowed Jack. "Great, something's happening—"
The pod hit turbulence, shaking its occupants violently.
"Fuck!"
A rivulet of blood trickled down the side of Jack's face.
Meanwhile the mad rushing of air whipping past the pod changed as its pitch dropped lower. Something blocked out the light above the cylindrical pod, covering the top half in shadow. A tingling sensation overtook the quartet. Marcus would later compare it to a dentist's drill, except the vibration shot through his whole body instead of just his head.
"Look!"
Moxxi gestured wildly at a small readout showing a large object moving toward them. Very fast. The pod suddenly swung end-over-end much more rapidly than it had before—which had been a slow tumble. It felt as though their capsule was being yanked along by its floor, before all motion abruptly slowed.
CLANG.
A mechanical-sounding voice emanated from a speaker somewhere. "You have landed safely. Locks have disengaged and hatches may now be opened from the inside. Pod hatches will remain sealed in case of environmental hazards. Please check sensors before opening main hatch."
THWUCK.
"What was that?"
Turning to the strange tattooed woman, Moxxi shrugged. "I have no idea, sugar."
"Call me 'sugar' again, and I'll…"
"Jack, calm down!" retorted Garrus. "I'm sure she meant no offense."
"Is it just me, or are we upside-down?"
[...]
"There's something big headed our way. Looks like it should be friendly."
"Michael, what does it take to make you panic?" demanded Patricia Tannis. "You, of all people I have met…"
"Uhh, guys?" Maya interrupted to point at the windows. Windows which moments before had light streaming through them, but were now framed in shadow. "Whatever it is, it's much bigger than we—"
"Yaaaaaah!" cried the three in unison as their pod rocketed upward. For reasons unknown, Maya concentrated as hard as she could—her tattoos nearly blinded her companions as a flash of purple surrounded their lifeboat. The rapid motion ceased.
THWUCK.
[…]
"Pull up!" snapped Erickson, as if the looming mountain range on sensors wasn't enough incentive. Her helmsman simply rolled his eyes while simultaneously indicating the manual steering system which was pushed all the way forward to bring Endless Calm's nose up.
"Armor status?"
"Holding steady ma'am but the power draw is taking energy away from engines!"
"Redirect!"
It took only five seconds for alarms to begin blaring, but the words scrolling across her terminal meant the mission was complete.
"WE HAVE THEM."
"Let's make a run for the closest fleet not under the control of a warmongering blood-drinker" said Erickson. "Maximum speed!"
Rerouting power from the ship's armor to its engines provided the boost in power Endless Calm needed to begin ascending. Mountaineers years later swore they found paint chips from the vessel's hull at the tops of the Polar Peaks. The thinner air from higher up in Pandora's atmosphere reduced friction on the dreadnaught's hull, but also reduced its ability to radiate heat away since fewer particles existed to carry energy elsewhere.
"Hull temperature rising!" came an urgent query from operations. "Wave-guides compensating, but it will take time!"
Reaper fire is far worse thought the Captain. The hull should be fine.
[...]
Xytler could hardly believe what he was hearing.
Suddenly, these mewling quims from another galaxy grew consciences and were objecting to his leadership? He'd brought them through the greatest battle in the history of his galaxy!
"With all due respect, admiral, given the lack of any current threat we have no need to continue your severe methods." Benjamin Reid, captain of RNS Sacrifice of Angels, had plenty of respect for turians as a species, having seen how fiercely the Hierarchy had pushed back against the massively superior Reapers. This particular turian, though, he respected less and less.
"Captain Reid, your objection has been noted, however…"
"I must object, and note my support for his position" interjected Captain Ratzik, RNS Warrior's Honor.
"Matt, while I appreciate the support, I really don't—"
"You are both right" chimed in Captain Isabelle Long, RNS Veritas. "We did what we had to in order to stop the Reapers, but now that the bloodrot is gone there is no need to leave the nanomachines raging!"
"Under the Trans-Galactic Republic Standardized Regulations of Military Law Section Six, Chapter Twelve, I hereby declare you, Maximilian Xytler, unfit for duty" finished Alexis Kazansky, RNS Star Paladin.
The next ten minutes served as an exemplary specimen of cross-cultural conflict. No turian would ever question his or her superiors in this manner. No provision existed in the turian military code for such an occurrence—intervention only came from above, not below. Subordinates were to trust the system and wait for those above their direct superiors to take action should anything untoward occur. The Trans-Galactic Republic military seemed almost, well, non-military to the regimented and highly disciplined turians.
As-written, the Status of Forces Agreement lacked detail on who was in charge. At its worst, this could have led to an open war between former allies—at the moment, since no one could draw formal authority from any agreements between the Citadel and the Republic, the conference devolved into a shouting match.
"You are a monster, a brute, and a poor excuse for a flag officer" fumed Reid.
"And you have no respect for your superiors, lack the ability to control your own emotions, keep your opinions to yourself, and get the job done!" spat Xytler.
"As far as my readings of the SOFA goes, there is nothing which forces us to remain under the command of…questionable individuals" replied Kanzansky. As she had joined the conference remotely, her image flickered and weapons fire could be heard in the background. A turn of her head to issue different orders not pertaining to the conversation. "Contain those hooligans." She sounded almost bored.
"What is going on? Why have you lost control of your ship?" snapped the admiral.
"I have not lost control of anything" came the reply. "Your men, on the other hand, seem to have lost something."
Behind her, TGR-uniformed personnel dragged stunned UDC-wearing turian and human soldiers by their feet. It seems not everyone had followed the "Same side, same colors" edict issued by Xytler before the fleet departed G-6 for G-3.
"We do not wear the same colors, Maximilian Xytler, and for that, I am proud." Kanzansky disconnected without so much as a salute.
"Anyone who attempts to leave this room will be detained" said Xytler to the physically present Republic captains.
Without responding, each captain discreetly activated a small transmitter hidden on their person. Its purpose was to indicate that the individual wearing it was under duress, being held against their will, or otherwise in a situation where an overt call for help would not be possible. Alerts came up on the command screens of each ship, though Xytler had no way of knowing this. Republic ships in the battle group moved into predetermined positions, ready to initialize full-on alpha strikes if necessary. A Captain who activated his or her homing beacon was to be retrieved or killed (hopefully along with those who took him/her hostage). No middle ground.
Any battle would not be over quickly. Though the Republic "side" possessed four ships to Xytler's three, Aspirations Toward Infinity-class dreadnaughts were much more nimble than their Republic counterparts (despite mass effect technology). They wouldn't survive a direct beating from Curator guns, but it was quite likely the big cruisers would be unable to deliver said beating.
"Admiral!" A bridge officer stuck his head into the conference room aboard UDCS Menacing Hatred. "Targeting scanners from our Republic escorts have locked onto us!"
"What?" demanded the turian. He stood in shock. "What have you done?" he bellowed.
"Nothing" replied Ratzik. "Merely informed our crews of your forced hospitality." As if to exaggerate the situation's ridiculousness, his booted feet appeared on the table.
"Sensor contacts, Captain Erickson!" Endless Calm used its hyper-zero drive to arrive at the outer edge of Pandora's star system. There, it found a fleet of seven ships in a bit of a standoff.
Erickson wasn't about to start anything, but her mind moved into overdrive. If the Republic shoots first, they will likely win since Force-Fire-Over-Ride wasn't installed on the Infinities. If the hybrids somehow shoot first, the Curators are in deep trouble since they won't be able to physically hit their opponents.
"Set our weapons!" barked Xytler. "Aim for the closest Star Destroyer, but do not fire!"
It also appeared none of the would-be combatants had yet taken notice of Endless Calm either. The four Star Destroyers were arranged in a "corners" formation around the side-by-side Aspirations Toward Infinity class flying guns, which themselves were slightly staggered. One forward (Xytler's flagship Menacing Hatred), two back (Enveloping Darkness, Mailed Fist).
In a flash, blue lanced from the sides of each Curator-class Star Destroyer, landing perfect hits on unsuspecting Infinities. In a reversal of Revenant's fate, it was the enemies of the Republic who found themselves unable to fire. Activation of each Captain's Distress Device enabled Force-Fire-Over-Ride which permitted Republic guns to ignore Identify-Friend-Foe tags. Darkness, Fist, and Hatred possessed no such feature and in any case found their computers fried by the massive ion blasts launched from their Star Destroyer escorts.
"Treacherous thugs!"
Xytler could do no more than shake his fist—he was pretty sure trying to physically stop the Republic shipmasters from departing would result in more weapons-fire.
"We'll be leaving" said Reid.
"It wasn't nice seeing you" continued Long.
"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch" added Ratzik.
Republic assault shuttles retrieved their officers, while Curtana heavy bombers delivered precision strikes to disable weapons systems and engines aboard the trio of UDCS dreadnaughts. The attack had been so sudden no messages were transmitted to other United Defense Council fleets or battle groups. Republic jamming stopped any transmissions made after the lightning strike.
"So much for avoiding the blood-drinker" mused Erickson. She hadn't known the task force of four Star Destroyers had been combined with UDC vessels, nor was she expecting to see her now apparently former allies be lit up by Star Destroyer weapons fire. The whole laser/ion shield thing still vexed scientists—how to defend against both simultaneously without carrying a whole separate set of shields for each? No military ever considered the extra power draw or space used in such a design worth it, so ships were left unable to defend themselves against the disabling effect of the blue bolts.
In other battle groups, Republic crews and captains turned on, imprisoned, and disabled their United Defense Command counterparts. Some battles initially tilted toward the UDC, but Republic forces strategically retreated to areas controlled by friendly interests, creating numerical advantages too large to overcome. Swarms of Republic fighters dealt with Infinities just as they would have with smaller ships displaying similar levels of maneuverability. Since the dreadnaughts carried no fighters, mounted zero point defense guns, and were designed with the singular purpose of killing Reapers, defeating them wasn't as difficult as was originally thought.
[...]
"We need a medical capsule, now!"
Brick had pinned the insane Captain Shepard under an artillery shell she'd intended to use to blow up her own base on Pandora (with herself inside). Her Cerberus cybernetics, Alliance enhancements, and natural toughness were keeping her alive, but only just considering everything below mid-chest had been crushed.
Now, her eyes barely opened, her mouth grimaced in a silent scream.
And what was that stench? "Did something die in here?" demanded a corpsman.
"The Captain's death will be on us if we don't move quickly" snapped his superior.
The disabled artillery shell was carefully lifted, and the source of the smell became apparent. A wrinkled, black, thing lay next to the broken Spectre. The medical corpsman estimated its length as half an average human's height. It made small movements, as much as a blob of, well, something could and emitted small noises when approached.
"What the hell is that?" demanded a Marine escort.
"I'm a doctor, not an encyclopedia!" said the senior medical officer. "We'll take both of them—put Shepard in the capsule and get a second container for the, thing."
A box was found for "that giant raisin thing" while Shepard was carefully lifted into a medical pod. The two medical personnel made a best-effort to keep as much of Shepard's lower body as possible, though given that her legs were shattered, her lower torso pulverized, and thus various innards had ended up not inside anymore, the task tried their patience. Temporal life support systems were hugely expensive, could only operate for a few minutes on energy cell power, and were extremely temperamental. However, given the state of Shepard's body, it was the only way to even have a minute chance of keeping her alive. Even plugged into the MedEvac transport, the pod massively taxed the ship's power systems, cutting speed and acceleration in half.
Not that there were any concerns—all hostile activity on Pandora had ceased with the destruction of the Reapers, and Republic-on-UDC asskicking had not yet reached Pandora proper, though it was well on the way.
[…]
Imprisoned aboard their own ships, the crews of Darkness, Fist, and Hatred found themselves dragged behind Star Destroyers headed to Pandora. With mass effect technology, it became trivial for Paladin, Honor, and Angels to pull the disabled dreadnaughts in their wake.
Aboard Erickson's Endless Calm, the escape pods had been detached from the hull using space tugs packed aboard Sacrifice of Angels.
The survivors were brought together in the main briefing room just off Endless Calm's bridge. "Was this supposed to be some kind of test of patience?" demanded Patricia Tannis. "We…"
"Dude, relax. These pods have air and provisions for weeks just in case you land in the middle of a fucking forest full of killer bees or something."
Jack realized exactly how ridiculous that sounded, but hey, it was true. For all its flaws, the UDC did incorporate effective escape vehicles. It may have had something to do with a re-use of Republic designs, though, as the UDC did not seem to care much about the welfare of its crews.
On the other side of the conference table, Maya briefed Erickson and several other Republic officers, relaying the tale of Tannis' theory, Lilith's sacrifice, and the resulting destruction of Aspirations Toward Infinity.
"In the end, Lilith came around." Maya sniffed and failed at holding back a few tears. As much as she got a good belly laugh out of bandit guts, big game hunting, and general melee, this situation was different. Knowing where comedy ended and insanity began was the key to avoid becoming what Shepard had transformed into. She hoped the old Commander still lived in that husk somewhere, and speaking of Shepard…
"Priority transmission to any UDC or Republic forces in the area: Medical code blue! We have Shepard, and she's a code blue."
Ten minutes ago Erickson would have politely begged off receiving the patient. Having heard Maya's perspective, she now felt helpless that her fancy Reaper-killer no longer possessed the sophisticated surgical facilities of, ironically, the "less-advanced" Curator Mark I's. Due to lack of casualties stemming from the inability of any commonly encountered foe (pre-Reaper) to seriously threaten the Republic's heavy cruisers, the Mark II design downgraded medical capabilities significantly. It was further assumed that dedicated medical ships would accompany fleets in any situation where mass casualties were likely.
As a result, "Commander Blue" ended up turfed to Veritas. Her capsule made it to the primary surgical suite with seconds to spare on its integrated power system. Immediately a swarm of nurses, doctors, and other assorted personnel descended upon it. It wasn't known how long a patient could be kept in stasis like this without adverse effects, but given that in order to operate parts of the patient had to be brought back to real time to operate (creating aging differences, however minute, in the range of hours or at most days), it was considered best practice to limit the time the patient "straddled."
A short time later, Maya and Anna arrived by shuttle.
Shepard's nurse intercepted them outside in the waiting room.
"Do you really want to know?"
Sounding indignant, Maya almost put her hands on her hips. "Yes, Nurse Marilyn, I do want to know."
"Her legs have been completely crushed. Her lower torso is also severely damaged—most of her body below mid-chest has been turned into paste. She is currently in temporal stasis to stave off a death by shock due to massive blood loss and blunt trauma."
A commlink beeped, followed by a tinny voice emanating from a nurse pager. "Nurse to the OR; all hands on deck, we're losing her."