"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear." - Ambrose Redmoon
The trees are just a blur around me, and by the time I stop running, the sun has completely set, plunging the forest into darkness.
And as a consequence, causing me to trip and stumble at least half a dozen times before I finally give up my dead sprint.
"This…is…bullshit..."
I'm hunched over, wheezing from asthma and completely out of breath. Not to mention drenched in sweat. I should probably ditch my leather jacket, but it was my granddad's and I just couldn't abandon it in good conscious.
Goddamn, my asthma hasn't been this bad in years. And I'm pretty sure I could run a lot farther than a mile before collapsing in exhaustion! What's the whole point of making me sixteen again anyways? My horribly awkward teenage limbs are part of the reason I've been stumbling around like a hapless drunk. Completely counter productive.
I take a moment to sit down against a tree and to fold the rifle in my hands back up. I then take the belt from my pants (not the kinetic barrier, just my normal belt) and thread the muzzle of the gun through the buckle and the other end of the belt through the trigger guard. I tug experimentally at my makeshift sling, before nodding in approval. It would have to do for now. At least this would make it easier to carry.
After recovering from my exhaustion, I search around for the rough trail I've been following since entering the tree line. The colonists left a pretty easily detectable path in their mad dash for the relative safety of the forest. Unfortunately, the batarians probably found the same trail and thought it just as easy to follow. And it's getting pretty dark. I need to find the colonists fast. The omni-tool flashes across my arm and I use it to light my way.
I take off running once more, ignoring the ache in my lungs. This is no time to dilly-dally, Carter. Martin Shepard bought you time. Now it's all on you! I owe him that much.
After only a few yards I trip and fall right on my face for what feels like the thousandth time that day. All this dirt I keep falling straight into really can't be good for any of my cuts. Do they still have Neosporin in the future? I really hope so.
Cursing violently, I turn to look at the whatever caught my leg, flashing neon orange light from the omni-tool and expecting to see some odd branch or piece of shrubbery. Only it wasn't a branch or bush that caught my ankle. A pair of eyes stare lifelessly back at me. The sight of the dead women sends me scrambling back.
Holy-! Where the hell did she come from?! My mind races a mile a minute as I see a scorch mark on the poor middle aged woman's torso. Those bastards, she didn't even look to be armed. What happened to taking prisoners?!
I step closer and kneel down to close the woman's eyes. Her skin feels glacial against my blood and dirt encrusted hand, causing an involuntary shiver to travel down my spine. I really don't know what else to do. It's not like I can give her a proper burial. That would take to much time and the thought of there still being people left alive out there doesn't exactly help. I raise myself to my feet and cautiously back away from the corpse before turing around and continuing my sprint down the trail.
The farther in I travel the more dead bodies I seem to find. I nearly lose what little remains in my stomach I have left when an unmoving child crosses my field of vision before I swiftly turn away. Dammit, no one deserves that let alone a child. What was wrong with these batarians? Wasn't the whole point of this raid was to enslave the colonists? How many have they captured already? Who was left?
I shake my head furiously, trying to dispel the trepidation that was slowly building. Don't think. Just keep moving.
Dammit, the Shepard's must have gone far. I don't know how long I've been running but my lungs felt like they were about to burst. All the cuts and bruises I accumulated in my scuffle with the batarian slaver are really starting to hurt like a bitch. I should have searched some of the batarians for medi-gel, though the thought of looting the dead left a bad taste in my mouth.
The dim light that shines through the branches and leaves comes from two crescent moons. I'm sure if I stopped to look up they would be breathtaking, but for a kid running half blind through a forest, I'm just glad they illuminate the ten feet in front of me. The air in the forest is also starting to grow frigid and cold, which doesn't help my asthma at all. My breath comes out in vapor clouds.
The crack of a gun pierced through the forest causing me to come sliding to a halt in front of a particularly large tree that stands alone in a clearing. I take a second to catch my breath, using my free hand to lean against the trunk, and try to determine where the scream might have come from. It sounded close. My head tilts from left to right waiting for the sound, eyes narrowing when the forest remains strangely silent except for the a the chirp of bugs and the rustle of the wind. It may have come from the right. But I couldn't be sure. And this wasn't really a time I could just run in a random direction and hope for the best.
My heart raced erratically in my chest, and I wiped my clammy hands over the jacket. The unfamiliar feel of the rifle barrel brushes across my palm.
Then the same crack rings through the trees, followed by a shout of, "Go to hell!" A shock of adrenaline spikes through my system, revitalizing my tired body.
I take off running again towards the sounds of a firefight. (Yes, because running towards the sound of gunfire worked out great the last time.) It was definitely resonating from the right. I'd bet money on it if I had any.
My feet only carry me a short distance before I'm met with a sight that will probably be etched in my memory forever. A young girl, sixteen, maybe seventeen, in a light brown outfit, was sprinting in the direction of the clearing I just emerged from, consequently, in my direction. She hasn't seemed to notice me yet, but that may be because of the three batarians chasing after her while she shot blindly at them with a pistol. A blue aura of light crackled like energy around her sprinting form, making her look like some kind of vengeful angel.
Alright, I may have exaggerated that last part, but it was still very impressive. I've never seen biotics in action before (obviously) and even if all she was doing was flinging a few rocks and branches at her assailants, I'm still fascinated by it. I can't help but hear Ben Kenobi's voice echo in my head whispering, 'Use the force, Luke.'
Without warning the young girl trips and falls straight into the undergrowth. I flinch in empathy, remembering my own face having become quite acquainted with Mindoir's unforgiving soil a multitude of times in the last couple hours.
The batarians bare down on her, and my mind flashes back to the dead bodies I encountered on the trail. And then to the batarian that had just tried to enslave me. Only one of them has his rifle unfolded and in his hands, the other two have slave collars out and at the ready. They are practically right on top of her when the rifle finds it's way back into my hands. The rifle springs to life and I hesitate for a split second before making my decision and pulling the trigger...
Only to realize the safety was still on.
Somewhere, dad is laughing his ass off.
Alright, off to a great start, Matt. Now let's try this again.
I switch off the safety and depress the trigger.
The superheated slugs the size of sand grains traveling at supersonic speeds certainly get the batarian's attention. I aim for the one closest to where the girl fell. The four-eyed bastard that has his gun trained on her prone form. I keep firing even after he stumbles back in surprise, attempting to train his gun on me. My aim is absolute shit, but that doesn't matter at this close range. I keep firing even as his shield flickers out. Keep firing even as the bullets cut through his armor and blood splatters across the forest floor. I don't stop until I see his heavy form collapse into the foliage.
My eyes move to the next target in an instant and my body reacts before my mind can register that I just killed another person. The second batarian, who just stared at me in shock as his friend was gunned down, is now scrambling for the sidearm at his hip. Too late. The rifle in my hands is already spitting out a series of resounding cracks. The girl who fell is now crouching down low and shooting at him as well. His shields go down and a slug from the girl's pistol catches him in the face. It was an impressive shot.
My luck seems to run out, though, because my gun chooses that moment to overheat. The metal of the gun actually burns my hands. A yelp of pain escapes me and it takes everything I had not to drop the smoking firearm onto the ground in surprise. The thing actually burned you when it overheated?! What a crap design!
I round to face the remaining slaver, only to see him charging straight for me. The final batarian had time to pull out his own firearm. A shotgun is in his hands and a snarl of anger rips itself from his throat as he levels the gun on me.
He pulls shoots, still running towards me. My eyes bulge and my throat closes around a pained cry as I actually feel the impact of the tiny projectiles against the barrier. Breath leaves my lungs as what felt like a canon hit my chest and I have to stop myself from falling flat on my ass. Dammit! that thing could tear me apart like paper. Were it not for the flimsy barrier, that was now completely spent from the first shot, I would have been nothing more than a crimson stain on the ground.
However, before the batarian could get any closer, he trips and slides backwards. Almost as if something has a grip on his leg.
I only then notice the red-headed girl standing back on her feet. Her right hand wrapped in an azure blue and grasping towards him and the pistol firmly secured in her left hand. There's this look of pure unadulterated rage on her face and for a moment even I'm frightened. She kneels down, her knees pressing against the batarian's lower back so he couldn't get away and the muzzle of the pistol is suddenly pressed against the back of the batarian's skull.
Then my mind jumps back to the moment when I have the pistol pressed against the slavers forehead and, in a rare moment of understanding and clarity, I know exactly what she's planning to do.
"Don't-!" The resounding sound of the crack of a gun interrupts whatever I was about to say. Honestly, I don't even know how that sentence was supposed to end. I couldn't ask her not to kill him. Not when I would have done the same thing. Hell, I did do the same thing.
The anger never left the girl's face. She simply grasped the pistol tighter, and it's almost as if she's frozen in place. But then an anguished cry rips through the clearing and I stare in shock as the girl unloads round after round into the pulverized head of the batarian. Her eyes are screwed shut and her mouth is agape from the screaming as crimson blood splashes across her lightly tanned skin. And I'm completely and utterly terrified of her.
Mercifully, steam eventually rolls from the muzzle of the gun, signaling that the pistol had overheated in her hands. Awareness and sympathy shoot through me, replacing the terror as the girl stands up shakily, covers her mouth, and then promptly turns to the side to loose the contents of her stomach onto the grass next to her.
I hesitantly walk over to her. Dammit, I'm not really good at being a comforting person, but I know what she's going through so that has to count for something, right? My hand gingerly pats her back, trying to be soothing and empathetic, "It's alright. It's alright." I repeat the muttered phrase like a mantra. As if simply saying it will make it so.
"How is this 'alright'?" she coughs out, her voice hoarse. She wipes her mouth across her forearm and spits on the ground, before turning a heated glare on me. "None of this is 'alright'."
She's completely correct, I realize. None of this is at all 'alright'. People shouldn't be killing other people. Guns shouldn't be able to pulverize flesh like that. And I certainly shouldn't be here. This is anything but 'alright'. But I can't tell her know that. I'm supposed to act the calm, collected, voice of reason here. I'm supposed to keep my head.
Easier said than done.
"It will be alright," The flash of a muzzle and the batarian's expression of fear, rises unbidden to my mind, as if to contradict my words, "You don't have to like killing or even get used to it, but these batarians aren't going to think twice about killing or even enslaving either of us. We just need to get out of here." I mean what I say. Martin Shepard was right. We can sort through all the emotions and trauma later. Right now we need to just focus on survival. I then notice the odd way she's leaning to her right.
I look at her left leg and notice the material around her ankle is torn (no doubt from running through shrubbery and thorn bushes) and the exposed skin is slightly swollen and red.
"Can you walk?" I'm pretty sure I already know the answer. That ankle looks pretty sprained.
The girl flinches before putting on a defiant expression as she tries to put more weight on her injured leg, "I'm fine. You're the one that looks like shit."
I blink. Well, that was a blatant lie. Not the part about me looking like shit. I knew that part was true. The part where she said she was fine. That was obviously a lie.
"No. No, you are not fine," I'm only know basic first aid, but I don't have any medical supplies on me. Not that it would help. Sighing, I sling my rifle back across my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the girl shiver and rub at her forearms when she thinks I wasn't looking. That futuristic getup (What was it called in the game? A spacer outfit?) offered no protection from the freezing cold that was quickly descending on the forest. I shrug off my jacket and toss the torn article of clothing her way, "Put this on. You need it more than me. Not much I can do about your ankle though. Sorry."
She caught the jacket before throwing it right back at my face, "I don't need your damn jacket."
"The hell you don't." I snap back suddenly feeling all the weariness and anger at waking up in another world, walking into a firefight and then running like hell was on my heels through a damn forest, and then participating in yet another firefight. Every bit of frustration at having no clue what I was supposed to do suddenly came to the forefront of my mind. What was I even doing here? The only thing I had to worry about yesterday was what I was going to have for breakfast the next morning.
"Get the hell away from me. I don't want you or anyone else's help." The teenager then stalked past me, shoulder checking me roughly in the process and flaring her biotics, probably in an attempt to appear more intimidating. Which works.
Before she is completely out of my reach, I grab her shoulder and spin her back around to face me. Her biotics flare further in response, promising pain. I should probably be trying to make a good first impression, or at least be a bit afraid of an obviously pissed off biotic, but at the moment, the only thing on my mind was staying alive to see the sunrise.
"Hold up one damn second there, Bitch-pants McCrabby." I shove the jacket into her hands, "You seem to have made the mistake in thinking that I give a flying-fuck about what you want. What you and I both need is too stick together. I promised Martin Shepard that I would help any remaining families that were still alive out here. From what I've seen, you're all that's left. So guess what? You're stuck with me. Sorry if you were expecting a knight in shining freaking armor."
She's staring at me in what I think is shock. Good. Maybe I got through her thick skull. And people call me stubborn...
"My father?"
I stare dumbly for a few seconds before my brain mentally restarts and begins screaming at me. Idiot! This is Shepard! Future savior of the galaxy! Standing right in front of you, asshole! How am I this stupid?
She even looks a little like default Shepard. Her hair is a dark red that cascades over her shoulders. Her eyes are the same dark green as her father's. Her voice is almost exactly like Jennifer Hale's.
Make words with your mouth, numb nuts! Before she decides you're not worth her time!
My voice calms down a bit, "Yeah," I reach into my pocket and dig out the dog tags Martin Shepard gave to me, "He wanted me to give these to his family." I hand them to her. I'm about to mention the message he left on the omni-tool but I promptly close my mouth shut with a click of my teeth. We should first get to safety before I show her that.
Shepard takes the dog tags with jerky mechanical movements. Staring at them, but not really seeing them. Her gaze was a million miles away, "He's gone?"
Damn, how do you tell someone their father just died? Why do I have to be the bearer of bad news? "Uh, yeah. I'm really sorry." My god, that sounded lame and pathetic.
"And I'm the first person you've run into," she asks, not reacting to my words.
"Alive, anyway." I instantly regret my callus tone. Comforting people is really not my strong suit.
Shepard doesn't respond. She just stares numbly at the ground beneath her feet for a few minutes. I somewhat expect her to explode in anger and try to kill me. Could I blame her if she did? I was the reason her father was dead. He stayed behind to make time for me.
Instead, she puts the dog tags around her neck, grasping them tightly. She also shrugs into the shredded jacket, although she does it grudgingly and she shoots me a death glare the entire time she's putting it on. That'll teach me to be nice to people.
She then grabs my wrist roughly and without saying a word, begins to limp towards the clearing.
"Hey, wait. Where are we going?" I ask as I stumble forwards with her.
"You said you promised to help all the remaining families," Shepard said without looking back at me. "So you're going to help me and my family."
Wait, what? Dammit, I was really tired of feeling confused.
"What are you talking about?" I asked as we emerged back into the clearing. Though a small flicker of an idea was starting to emerge from my slow-witted mind. Was it possible I made it in time? That I could still help save the Shepard's?
My answer came when the red-headed girl called out over the clearing, "Mom! Tommy!"
Actually, there was no answer at all.
"Mom! Tom!"
Still no answer, "Maybe they kept moving on ahead?" I supply helpfully.
"Maybe you should shut up."
You are not a very nice lady.
"Hey, I was only trying to help. I have a name by the way. Matthew Carter. Though my friends call me Matt. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"I don't care." She snaps, fixing me with a glare before turning back to the clearing. Shepard bites the inside of her cheek, her eyes scanning the clearing. She then pulls at my wrist again and we continue towards a seemingly random direction.
I can't help the wry smile that spreads across my face. At least she hasn't tried to kill me yet.
"How do you know they went this way?" I ask as I narrowly avoid slamming my already abused forehead against a swinging branch.
"I don't." she replies with a tone that clearly meant that she was through talking.
Ah, maybe this is how Shepard gets rescued by that passing Alliance patrol. But that means she never finds her family again. I wonder what happened to them? Did they die somewhere in this forest or did the batarians enslave them? The thought is sobering and I can't stop the next words from tumbling out of my mouth, "Do you have some way of contacting them?"
"I didn't exactly have a lot of time to pack my things before my home was torched." Shepard snaps, "Don't you think if I had some way of contacting them I would have done so by now?" Her eyes still searching for some sign of her mother and brother.
Alright, that was a valid point. I'll just try and stop asking stupid question from now on.
I wonder if asking how to get back to the 21st century is a stupid question?
Probably.
She stops suddenly causing me to run into her. I didn't realize how much taller I was than her until I nearly knocked her over. In the games she was always this larger to life character. Heh, go figure. Maybe this was before her growth spurt, "Dear Ghandi, shorty, warn me before you come to a complete stop."
Her grip tightens around my wrist. She rounds on me angrily gesturing towards my upraised hand, "Idiot! You have an omni-tool!"
"Yeah?" Isn't it pretty standard hardware during this time? At least the way Martin Shepard made sound, it was pretty common. It then dawns on me what she's getting at, "Can we use it to contact your mom?"
She looks at me as if I was a child, "As long as you have above a third grade education, then yes." Okay that one was definitely an insult, though I choose to ignore it. How was I supposed to know what it could do? I just got the damn thing.
The omni-tool on my wrist opens and the orange hologram flickers to life. It bathes the dark forest around us in a neon glow, illuminating Shepard's cut and defiant face and my bruised and bloody one. Alright, better learn how to use this fast. I don't think Shepard will let me hear the end of it if I mess up dialing a phone.
I hesitantly scroll across the display. I really hope I don't somehow accidentally break this.
"Hurry up, dumbass!"
"You're the dumbass... dumbass." I mutter back. Oh, me and my witty comebacks.
I focus on the glowing orange hologram until I find an icon that vaguely looks like a contact list. Following this hunch I press it and, low behold, a series of names and numbers springs to life in front of me. This is pretty awesome. So many hours could be spent exploring this simple piece of technology. I scroll down a bit before realizing I have no idea what I'm looking for, "Uh, what's your mom's name?"
"Incompetent." Shepard grabs my forearm and pulls it towards her. Fingers dance across the hologram until I hear the sound of it dialing and the name Hannah Shepard being displayed in bright orange letters. Really though? One hundred and fifty years into the future and it's still the same annoying tone? Why the-
"Martin? Is that you?" A hesitant voice breaks through my thoughts. The sound came from the orange hologram across my wrist.
"Mom! It's Jane! Where are you? Are you and Tommy alright?" Ah, Jane. So that was her name. At least the name was the same as default Shepard, as well.
"Jane? How did you get your father's omni-tool? Is he with you? Are you alright?"
Jane rounds on me with a glare, no doubt now wondering the same thing as her mother.
I better interject myself into the conversation, just so I can clear the air and Jane can stop giving me the stare of death, "I'm sorry, ma'am, Martin Shepard gave me his omni-tool before he... died." Dammit, that wasn't any easier the second time.
There was a long pregnant silence over the comm and from the murderous glare Jane is sending my way, I'm pretty sure I should have burst into flame or at least have been biotically thrown into a tree by now.
"I-I see." The voice is now cracked and filled with frayed tension, "Thank you for telling me this Mr...?
"Carter, ma'am."
"Thank you, Carter." Her voice suddenly becomes all business. No hint of the tiredness that formerly lined it, "Jane, you and Mr. Carter have to get to the out of this forest. The Alliance is sure to come for us, but they can't see us in these dense trees."
"I'm not leaving without you, mom." Jane insists. This is gut wrenching. I really should not even be part of this conversation. I don't handle these types of matters well. Some would even go so far as to call me an emotional cripple that spends too much of his time with computers and not out socializing. And those people would be right.
"Sweetie, it's a big forest. Tommy and I will meet on the other end, but you can't waste any time searching for us. Carter, you keep my daughter safe alright. I know how stubborn she can be, but can you look after her for me?"
Seriously? As if a biotic needs protecting, "I will, ma'am."
"Mom! Just tell us where you went from the clearing and I can find you!"
"I love you so much, Jane. Promise me you'll be safe."
"Mom-"
"Promise me."
Jane's eyes flickered with a multitude of emotion, "I promise, mom... I love you too."
"I know sweetie. Don't you worry about me or Tom-." Suddenly there's a noise in the background. The sound of heavy footsteps. Jane's mother continues our conversation, but now her voice is nothing but a quiet whisper, "I can't talk now, Jane, the batarians are getting closer. Take care!"
And with that the omni-tool shut off. I guess that means the call ended. It takes a couple seconds for my eyes to readjust to the dim light of the stars and moons. During that time neither I nor Jane say a word. Not that I can blame her. I don't even notice that she has let go of my hand.
"Well, that didn't sound good." The remark is unnecessary and probably horribly inappropriate, but something has to fill the silence that now hangs heavy in the air. I barely realize she's already limping away, "Hey wait! Where are you going?" I ask after her, rushing to catch up.
"To find my mom and brother, dumbass," she replies without even turning around.
Oh...
Shit.
I don't know how Mindoir was supposed to go, but I was pretty sure this wasn't in the script. "Somebody wasn't listening." I say quickly trying to undo my mistake, "You heard her. She and your brother are going to meet us on the other side." Except I know that's false. And I get the feeling she knows it's a lie too. One of those stupid little white lies parents tell their children. Like Santa Claus or the tooth fairy.
I shouldn't have let her notice my omni-tool, dammit. We could of happily been rescued by a passing Alliance patrol in an hour or so. If this really is Mindoir, and I am in the Mass Effect Universe, then I did not want to be changing the games this early. What if the patrol misses us entirely? I might have just screwed the galaxy out of it's savior.
She stops, turns around, and grabs me by the collar of my shirt, dragging me down until her face is centimeters away from mine. Funny how scary someone can be when you are given clear view of the cold rage in their features.
Her tone is deathly quiet, and once again, I find myself scared shitless.
"I've lost my dad, I've lost my home, I've lost my friends. The only thing I have left is my brother and mother. I'm. Going. To. Find. Them. You can either get on board or get out of the way." The next thing I know, I'm on my back with the wind knocked out of me, vaguely aware of the slight cackle of biotic blue energy that spin like wisps in the air above me.
Did I just get shoulder checked by Jane Shepard? That would have been pretty awesome if it hadn't been so terrifying. My hands reach up and start poking hesitantly at my chest to make sure nothing is broken. Good, looks like the crazy girl didn't do too much damage. It was gonna leave one hell of a bruise though. I then crawl onto my hands and knees, stumble to my feet and to the sight of her limping away. Move your ass, skippy, this is no time to dilly-dally. Remembering to pick up the rifle that was knocked to the ground in that little argument, I jog towards her.
"Hey, wait up!" I easily cover the distance she's already put between us. She's not getting very far on that ankle of hers. I fall into step beside her, "I'll help you. And for the record; the shoulder check was overkill. You could have just flared your biotics or something to get your point across."
She just snorts glaring at me from the corner of her eye, "What? Not gonna try and save your own skin?"
Of course I wanted to turn and run and save my own skin! What kind of question is that?! Why isn't she as frightened as I am about all this?! She's a teenager and she's handling this better than I ever could.
But I don't say any of this.
Instead I smirk and reply, "Nah, living is overrated anyways. Besides, I promised to protect your family and that's exactly what I'm going to do." Family is something I could understand. I would have torn this forest apart if it had been my family. Hell, I know that my siblings and I are constantly fighting, and that I didn't exactly part with my father on the best of terms. But they were still family. And I would do anything for them. Even if it meant charging straight back into another firefight.
Besides that, I couldn't let Jane charge in alone. She's the main character. It'd be really stupid of me if I ended up getting her killed.
"Great, so you're a boy scout." She mutters scowling at me, "I can take care of myself just fine."
"You may be a biotic, but I'm awesome. You're argument is invalid." I respond almost immediately with a grin I don't really feel. She won't notice it's all a facade in this dim light though, so it doesn't matter. Best I can do is diffuse the tension in the air and, surprisingly, it seems to work. Shepard almost smiled there! She may have tried to disguise it as a grimace but I know I saw her lips twitch!
We settle into a slow walk, or limp in Jane's case, and continue on in silence before an idea dawns on me, "It's a pretty big forest. Do you think we can pinpoint where you're mother is using this omni-tool? You know, save some time?"
Jane, for once, looks at me in surprise and not anger or utter disgust. Which is always a good sign.
"Maybe. I'm not very good at tech stuff. You have any experience with technology?"
I knew a bit about computers, just enough to know what I was doing, but this technology was so advanced it would be akin to an expert on the typewriter saying he knows all about smartphones.
Still, how hard could it be to learn in the next few seconds? It's not like we had many options, and wandering the forest aimlessly didn't sound very appealing. Time to see if all those hours hanging out in the computer lab instead of talking with girls was time well spent.
"These things have extranet right?" I ask opening the orange glowing magic bracer. I almost said internet. Now that would have made me sound dumb. I swipe across the holographic screen. My second crash course in new age technology begins now.
"Extranet access, GPS, address book... phone." She says the last one looking pointedly at me, but I skillfully ignore her and adjust my glasses slightly to rest closer to my eyes. I can't believe how bent out of shape they are. There's actually a spiderweb of cracks in the left frame. It's a small miracle I can still see at all.
"Okay, I think I found it. No... Wait. Fuck berries, I think I just opened a... what is this?" A glowing sphere replaces the main part of the holographic screen.
I could just imagine Shepard rolling her eyes as I studied the glowing orb, "It's something my dad called an Overload. You better not mess with, he once used it to short out several..." She trailed off and I looked up to see a distant expression on her face.
Shit. Distract her, ya idgit! "Yeah, I'd probably end up shocking myself or something." I grin as her eyes suddenly snap back into focus, and she glares at me half-heartedly.
I turn back to the omni-tool, ignoring the sudden silence, "Uh right," I press a large triangle icon, hoping for the best and lo and behold, a search engine pops up. Nice, time to get to work.
My computer savvy friend in college showed me an app for the iphone in which you could track your friends phones. Seeing as how this is 150 years later, there should be something similar somewhere on the extranet...
"What's taking so long?"
"Give me a second, half-pint," my eyes are glued to the orange display while my fingers typed.
"I'd rather be short than stupid!" She bites out.
Ah, here's something; It was a program that tracked other people's omni-tools, provided you had the omni-tool's contact information. I downloaded the program to my omni-tool and opened it up. Just as I feared, it required that the other person authorize you access to his or her's omni-tool's position, but since Mrs. Shepard was otherwise occupied and since my genius friends were kind enough to show me how to 'modify' programs.
My fingers dance across the screen. It doesn't take me long to realize that I don't know jack shit. It may take a couple of hours just to understand all of this. That's time that we didn't have. I release a heavy sigh. There has to be an easier way to do this.
Wait... if the extranet is anything like the internet, than it's probably already filled with hacking programs. Idiot! I quickly find one that looked the least likely to carry a shit ton of viruses. (Did they even have computer viruses in the future?)
I download it and, after running the app through the hacking program, we're good to go.
"There!" I scroll back to the phone book and memorize Mrs. Shepard's contact info before relaying it through the program. Sure enough, a three dimensional compass materializes in front of Jane and I. Basking us in the orange glow.
"Come on! They're this way!" Jane grabs my wrist again, and we veer sharply to the left. The arrow on the compass swiveled with us. We're moving/limping at the pace of a fast walk and even though I'm sweaty, tired, and probably still bleeding from numerous cuts and lacerations I also realize something; This is not going to work. We're moving too slow. Outpacing Jane would be an easy feat and the dot that was Hannah Shepard was getting farther away with each step we took.
"Wait, uh, Jane. We need a plan" Damn, it was weird to call her by her first name. All I ever heard anyone call her was 'Shepard' or 'Commander.' This could take some getting used to.
She doesn't stop, "We don't have time." Jane says fixated on the compass of the omni-tool.
"We'll never catch up at this rate," I point out. She has to see that, right? We could never even hope to track down her mother and brother like this.
Jane finally stops and crosses her arms, her lips and eyes narrow in annoyance, "What do you suggest?"
She wasn't going to like this. I can already tell.
"Get on my back."
Her eyebrows raise, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," I move to kneel down in front of her, "I can carry you for a good bit of distance. We may not move as fast as them but if they keep stopping to try and hide than-"
"No." Jane states simply, making it clear that the discussion was over. She tries to limp away.
"This is the best I can think of," I call to her, "Unless you have any other scathingly brilliant ideas, this is the only way to catch up to your mother. Like it or not, we aren't going to be moving very fast on that leg of yours."
This causes her to pause, and I have to repress my smirk. At least she can be reasoned with on rare occasions.
Eventually, I feel her weight settle on my back. She grumbled and swore the entire time, but at least she was compliant. It was a bit awkward at first with the rifle still slung over my shoulder and her pistol clutched in one hand, but eventually we work out a position of least discomfort.
After that it was just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other.
And thus began our quest to find Jane's family.
We were wandering those forests for quite some time. My arms were getting awfully sore from lugging around Jane like a profanity muttering backpack, but at least she didn't threaten me with castration as much as the first hour. We periodically stopped for rests, though Jane spurred me on like a race horse at every pause.
She was a bit like an abusive slave driver, now that I thought about it, whenever I complained about getting hungry, tired, or thirsty, (or even on the rare occasions all of the above) Jane would tug hard at my hair or ears to keep me moving.
She is a very abusive person, now that I think about it.
The omni-tool directions guide us in the semi-darkness as I jog as fast as my legs could carry us, which was not very fast, but still faster than limping.
A painful tug at my ear causes me to nearly drop Jane, "Ow, ow, ow! What is it? Why? We're almost there!" I shout trying to crane my neck to see Jane.
However, she quickly clamped a hand over my mouth and whispered harshly into my ear, "Shut it, moron! Something's not right."
My annoyance fades and I give a nod of understanding, lowering her to the ground. I shake out my limbs experimentally, trying to rid them of the fatigue that had been building since entering these forests. Sweat soaked through my clothes and I briefly entertained the the thought of abandoning my shirt, despite the cold, but disregard the thought.
"It's too quite," Jane whispered, she flicked the safety off her pistol.
It's only then that I notice how silent the forest is around us. None of the background noise that had accompanied our trek was present. The bugs had fallen still, the frogs of the creeks had long since stopped croaking and any other native wildlife was not making a sound. Even the faint rustle of the wind seemed muted.
My mind instantly flashed with fear as I thought of a fierce predator working it's way to our location. Idiot! I hadn't even considered the thought of their being creatures in this forest that could rip us limb from limb. What was this planet's equivalent to a grizzly bear?
Trying to fight off my agitation, I check the omni-tool, Mrs. Shepard's dot glowed brightly on the compass. It was so close, we must be right on top of her. As soon as we found her we could get out of this damned forest.
Then the dot winked out of existence.
I blinked.
"Uh, Jane..." I tried to close the program and run it again, but the result didn't change; nothing. Mrs. Shepard was gone.
"Her omni-tool must have been deactivated," she grit out, apparently having seen the compass. That can't be good. Not good at all. I ready my rifle.
Jane's fist flared with blue energy while her pistol dangled loosely from her other hand. My rifle suddenly felt horribly inadequate.
Goddamn she looked menacing. Wish I had some of that biotic stuff. Who wouldn't want space magic? My little brothers would be freaking out. They loved the biotics in Mass Effect.
I cringe at the thought of their bright identical faces, but then stomp out the memory and the feelings that rose with it. Now was not the time.
Everything is completely motionless around us. Even the slight breeze has stilled. My eyes try to catch anything moving between the dense trees but it was too dark and the light from the night sky was almost completely blocked out by the foliage overhead. Fear-fueled adrenaline courses through my veins, making my already distressed muscles tighten in anticipation.
A sound breaks through the quiet, nearly making me jump out of my own skin. It's the sound of obnoxiously loud, guttural, voices. They're coming from directly ahead of us and the faint orange glows of omni-tools can be seen through the trees.
A blue blur rockets forward, leaving the smell of ozone hanging in the air at my side while my brain tried desperately to comprehend what just happened. Did Jane Shepard just perform a biotic charge?
Son of a bitch! We could have planned an ambush or something! Plus we didn't know how many there were!
Dammit! Why am I running towards the danger! Again! This better not be the start of a trend.
I sprint towards where the blur had shot off to... immediately coming face to face with an extremely confused batarian. He blinks, looking me straight in the eye and then brings his gun up.
Without wasting any time, I slam the butt of my rifle right between his four eyes with all my strength before he can fire off a shot. "Fucking hell!"
Regrettably, the element of surprise only lasts long enough for the batarian I just knocked out to fall to the ground. Bullets start to ping off my barrier almost immediately after that.
I weave sporadically around trees, relying more on luck than skill in the near total darkness. The sound of gunfire and the flash from muzzles spur me faster in my evasion technique's. And where the hell did Jane go?!
A couple more shots cause my barrier to flicker and die, forcing me to take cover behind a tree.
Dammit, this is ridiculous. I lean further away from the gunfire as high powered projectiles cause the bark around my head to splinter and explode, sending pieces of wood everywhere and me to flinch as a few slivers cut into my cheek and neck.
I bring up the omni-tool. Come on, where was that Overload? For fuck sake! I just saw it! What did it look like again?!
I sprint towards better cover, shooting as I run from the clusterfuck of batarians that are basically standing around in a packed group shooting anything that cast a shadow.
The only thought that really permeates my mind is, Crap crap crap crap crap!
It's almost too much too handle. The terror fueled adrenaline. The crack of discharging rifles. Everything felt like it was flying by me, and I just could never react fast enough. The bullets flashed by like some messed up light show.
I wanted to just curl up into a ball and wait for it all to go away, but if I stop moving now, I'd never be able to get moving again.
Where the hell was Jane? Hadn't she ever heard about safety in numbers? She better not have gotten herself killed.
I duck behind another tree as the cackle of biotic energy being released rings around the battlefield and the frantic screams of a batarian pierce the air to join with the gunfire.
Oh, fantastic. She's still alive. I was worried for a second there.
I lean out and fire on the group, catching one with his shields down after Shepard's attack. A couple of my shots go wide, but I'm lucky enough for one to catch him right above his collar bone. He stumbled before falling to the ground, chocking on blood.
A glimpse of bright red hair catches my eye. Was that Jane? In the next second it's gone.
Damn, she's good.
I sprint to another tree, firing at the group while I do so. Not really caring if I actually hit any of them. My eyes were to busy scanning the forest. There was no sign of Mrs. Shepard or Jane's brother anywhere.
A bullet punches through the tree trunk, right beside my head and helpfully reminding me that I'm still getting shot at.
It isn't really a firefight. A firefight would imply that there were two parties that had equal chance of winning. That is not at all the case. Jane is the only one doing any real damage to the batarians, I was just running around in panic like a chicken with it's head cut off, trying not to get shot and firing randomly.
I turn my attention back to my omni-tool and shift through the different screens. Come on... Where is-
There!
A glowing sphere forms into existence
Now I just had to launch it.
...
How was I supposed to launch this?!
I thrust my arm forward and the sphere shot forward and hit a nearby tree in a shower of sparks. Also resulting in bullets now being aimed at said tree. I blinked. Well, that answers that question.
Thank god that wasn't an incinerate. Would have caught the whole damn forest on fire.
My feet push off the rough bark, and I rush towards the next spot of cover and wait there for the opportune moment.
Once there was a lull in the crack of rifles, I rolled out from behind the tree, praying to every deity I could think of that this worked.
My fist punches forward, sending the glowing blue sphere of energy forward with arcs of electricity tailing behind it, lighting up the forest in an almost blinding display of electricty. It collided with a batarian in a static like flash, dropping his shields and allowing me to simply point and shoot. Once again, most of my bullets are off the mark, but just enough pierce through his armor. He was dead in seconds.
I rushed back behind the tree when the shots from the remaining batarians causes my barrier to flicker out. I leaned my head back against the rough bark.
How many is that now? Four? Four people who's blood was now on my hands? I slide down the trunk of the tree. Trying to catch my breath. Four people that would still be alive right now if it wasn't for me. I didn't even know them. They could have had friends and families waiting for them back home.
Peeking around my cover, careful to keep my head as far away from the flying projectiles as possible, I watch the remaining batarians. I think there's only three left. Maybe we can bluff our way out of this. No more death. That'd be nice. Through the muzzle flashes, I see one of the batarians heave something onto his shoulder and point it in my direction. Is that a...?
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
I scramble to my feet and start sprinting as fast as my weary legs can carry me. Soon I hear the tell tale sound of something whistling towards the tree I was previously behind.
Everything happened so fast after that. The blast, loud and deafening. The fire and charred splinters of wood that is sent spinning into a whirlwind of destruction burns when my shield flicker and dies. I feel a brief flash of searing pain smolder at my left side before being sent toppling forward through the air.
A cluster of shrubbery rapidly fills my spinning vision and I instinctively cover my head as I'm sent careening into the bushes, rolling and snapping the thin twigs and crushing the sparse leaves that do little to cushion my fall. My out of control form manages to hit the side of a tree with a loud crack, bringing my tumble to an abrupt and agonizing stop.
The world faded away.
AN: Damn guys, I wasn't expecting anyone to even give this fic a second glance. Especially since it's my first. You're all awesome. This chapter was a bit longer than I intended it to be, but oh well. Any feedback you have is more than welcome.