Chapter 2: Wake-up Call

Cryostasis, one of the few methods the first colonists used to get to Khonsu. Gradually Earth found more efficient fuels to use of the course of a year before the wormhole closed. The sensation it provided was often refuted to be terrifying, 'like drowning in the arctic regions.' Under the effects of the cold, one's metabolism slows to a crawl, and their body is forced to function at a crawl, but not entirely. Unlike when people would normally sleep, the REM is much slower, and the mental functions that would normally result in dreaming or thoughts during sleep are brought entirely to a halt. What is experienced is almost like a void between life and death: nothing.

UNK ?, ?*?*

? hrs/? min/? sec

Homeworld maximum security facility

He stirred for a moment. His eyes cracked open, slowly adjusting to the light pouring in from the glass. It seemed more natural, less like the pale, bright LEDs he remembered. The pod no longer had the distinct hum of energy buzzing or the hiss of the cryo module. Maybe they were bringing him out. The pod locks hissed as it was pried open and he gasped a breath of fresh air. Gradually climbed out. "Hello?" he asked.

His senses must've been adjusting. He could only hear this non-sensical blur of speech. At least he thought it was speech. The restraints on his neck and wrists just seemed to crumble as he struggled to support himself on the cryopod. Two figures raced forward to help him to his feet. The main problem was those hands that helped him were clearly not Terran. His eyes finally adjusted to see the two who were helping him. "No..."

How long had it been? What he saw before him was what clearly was the long-lost descendent of the Pyjack and the Varren respectively with what looked to be a humanoid with a parrot's head standing in back. Their armor looked relatively simple with small plates on top of a rigorous body glove. The continued to speak to him, but the language was foreign and unintelligible, given he was more accustomed to what was now a set of dead languages. Looking around, the maximum security was now in ruins. Panels had come off the floor and walls, wires and beams hung like rotting tendons from a corpse, and the only source of light was a massive hole in the ceiling, from which vines and water now dripped.

"No, this can't... I gave them a chance, they must've..." He crumpled to the floor in tears. It was over. Everything and everyone he fought for, gone. The years of pain and trial he experienced, all for nothing. Were the Harvesters truly that overwhelming? Shaking him, the Pyjack and the Varren quickly dragged him to his feet as they yelled among each other in panic, looking up through the hole in the ceiling, he could see the looming form of a Harvester, just over the ruins. It let loose a bellowing howl like the horn of a ship off the dock.

The blaring boom shook him awake.

April 9, 2186

15 hrs/10 min/50 sec

Homeworld maximum security facility

His breathing was labored, as the cryostasis slowly wore off. In the pod, he could hear the cooling module buzz, slowly getting less aggressive. Outside, he could barely make out the artificial lights of the prison wing. The restraints around his neck and wrists continued to hold tight onto him. He had nightmares every now and then, but there was always this distinct fog that helped the mind differentiate a dream from reality. This time, it felt surreal to the point it was almost indistinguishable from actual experience. "Hello?"

He jumped as the seals clicked and the pod hissed open. Adjusting his eyes to the full blast of the artificial lights, he could see Terran guards outside. Hooking up poles to his collar, one said, "Time to get up, colonel. Admiral's orders."

Fredrick was yanked up and brought up to his feet. "H-how looong?" His mind was still swimming with drowsiness.

"Seven months, sir. Now it's time to move," another guard said.

Fredrick looked over to the far side of the room, seeing long rows of inmates being brought along with orange, holographic chains. "What happened? What's going on?"

"We're initiating a mass-evacuation across all territories. The Hegemony have been demanding for your head on a plater the whole time you were asleep. This morning, we received a distress signal from Hegemony territory. Returning their call, it took three hours for some desperate bastard to say, 'They're here.' We hope you're ready, we won't have time to have you sit around and sip coffee while trillions are on the line," the leader of the guards answered.

He took a few seconds to shake himself and look back at the captain. "Alright, get me out of these restraints and get me to out-processing. My armor's there and I want to see to it everyone gets off."

"Don't worry, colonel. Almost the entire planet has been evacuated, and the civilians are safely away. We still have science teams, military personnel, and prison inmates to ship out though. Although by the sound of things, the Harvesters just hit the council races, so we don't have much longer. This w-" The captain of the guard was interrupted by a big explosion from the ceiling, sending debris tumbling below, narrowly diving out of the way, the bits of ceiling crushed a few guards standing behind him. Looking back up, a Harvester was seen in the distance, bellowing like a whale. Quickly afterwards, what looked to be corrupted Batarians started pouring in from the breach. Along with the usual signs of decayed skin and synthetic components typical to corrupted corpses, their upper bodies had heavily contorted and expanded with large growths on their back, their left arm had become shriveled with dystrophy, and their right arm had grown a claw-like cannon.

With quickly, more breaches sprung up in the facility, and more of the synthetic undead poured in. "Colonel! Run! Get to out-processing and get to command! We'll cover you! Go!"

"Get me out of these fucking restraints!" Fredrick growled. "I can't fight or do anything with these on!" Unfortunately, the guards were becoming overwhelmed, and the still captive inmates were struggling against their restraints as they were attacked and subsequently butchered by the invaders. Barely ripping off the guiding poles, he ran through the crowds, narrowly dodging fire. "Fucking wonderful," he muttered. Up ahead, he could see quarantine doors slowly closing, and began to pick up his pace.

About to reach the door, he's quickly pounced from behind by one of the corrupted Batarians. Struggling to keep its green bile off of him he quickly kicked it off, tossed it around with his biotics and crawled the rest of the way through the door as it shut behind him. "Shit, man! You alright?!" Another few inmates ran up to him as he crawled out.

"Look at his uniform. He's from the popsicle section, and looks fresh too," a large, beefy woman commented, eyeing him.

"Well that doesn't mean we're leaving him here. Help me get these restraints off and get him to his feet!" the third, scrawny man barked.

"Yeah, one sec." The first one had a guard's omnitool with which he tweaked with the restraints. "You aren't going to jump on us are you? Guys like you are kept in the cooler for a reason."

"We're all in the same boat, I've got no reason to do so," Fredrick answered honestly. To be fair, it would only prove to be detrimental to his survival if he did kill off these other inmates. With the cuffs and neck restraint off, he slowly pushed himself onto his feet. "Alright, now which way is to out-processing? I can get my stuff and get the rest of you out of here in one piece."

"You sure? You may have the high-end stuff, but that doesn't mean I have to trust you," the woman asked, crossing her arms in disbelief.

"I've gone toe-to-toe with these monstrosities before. I know how to crush some undead when it calls for it," Fredrick replied.

"If you say so." Pulling out the guard's omnitool again, the first inmate found a map. "Looks like it's all the way near the entrance of the facility. I heard they're still doing mass-evacuations. We get there, we might make it out of here."

"Fine, but I'm not giving him a gun," the woman repeated.

His green biotics ignited across his torso. "Don't worry, I don't necessarily need a gun. I'm a brawler too."

"Good! Let's go!" After a brief introduction, not much banter passed between Fredrick and the other inmates. As most of the facility was now under lockdown, with most of the remaining inmates being caught with the corrupted Batarians, the group cut through a small hospital for the criminally insane and inmates who managed to hurt themselves. Quickly, they learned that the corrupted Batarians would feast off the corpses of their fallen comrades to gain extra chitinous plating on their torso.

Nearly, one of the inmates were pounced on by what looked to be a husk before Fredrick slammed it against the wall hard with his biotics. "Damn! I've seen one of those creepers before on the Citadel when Saren went crazy!" the scrawny man replied. "Why the hell is it so... beefy? It looks taller than those older freaks."

"Those were made from otherwise normal Humans, without any sort of prior augmentations," Fredrick explained. "Terrans are just bigger in general."

"Shh! Did you hear that?" the woman hushed as she crept along a corner. The group followed her and peaked as they watched two more of the corrupted Terrans pile a doctor and two nurses in a stack. Kneeling down on the pile of corpses, two rivers of nanites flowed over the corpses from the undead Terrans onto the pile. What rose up was a blue, pulsating blob with a cannon, similar to what he had encountered when Shepard had been revived by Cerberus. "What the fuck..."

"Stay back, I'll try to deal with them," Fredrick said, allowing the nanites to coat his body. Running at the three, he grabbed the arm of one, tore it out, used it to smack the other to the ground before curb stomping it, throwing a warp at the first to tear it in half before tearing at the last one until it was little more than a pile of gray goop and undistinguishable parts.

"Holy hell, how did you get a hold on advanced-level nanite glands?" the scrawny inmate asked.

"I'll explain later." With more sudden surprises along the way, Fredrick dangerously guided the trio of inmates through the undead and around survivors until they reached the other side. It was the front gate he remembered entering through after being arrested for destroying the Viper Nebula.

"There's the exit, and there's the barracks! I want a better gun- hey! Where are you going?!" The woman noticed as Fredrick made a jog straight to the out-processing center. Breaking in, he helped the others get their belongings.

Scanning the room, Fredrick found a big, military-specs crate with a biometrics lock. Putting his hand to it, it clicked open before he pushed the lid and and pulled out the all-too familiar helmet of his. "Ah, perfect."

15 hrs/55 min/38 sec

Aldrin Space Port ruins, Khonsu

Normally, the admiral wore an officer uniform, but currently wore basic armor for protection. While everyone had been hit within the last few hours, the Terrans had taken the least amount of damage in terms of numbers. Unfortunately, they were still evacuating military forces and numerous science teams who were needed to save the galaxy. The other races had been helping construct a hidden superweapon on Mars known as the Crucible, yet another set of ruins from the Prothean Age. With it, they could fry the Harvesters in their entirety, ending them all in a single, Galaxy-wide blast. "Any luck?"

He and a few other officers were standing at an improvised holotable. The few Harvesters who did enter the system were fighting their dreadnoughts in orbit, and the Terran spacecraft were doing very well outside of situations of being overwhelmed by numbers. "Barely sir. They're holding out, but we can't get through to them. Should we send forces their way?"

"No, have the troops continue to evacuate, we will work with what we have," Hashimoto insisted. "I promise you, Colonel Müller is alive."

"With all due respect, sir," another officer started in disagreement. "We lost contact with maximum security almost an hour ago when they entered the system. The colonel couldn't have possibly survived."

The table beeped with an incoming message. "This is Admiral Hashimoto, who is this?"

Admiral, I've just made it out of maximum security with three other inmates. Are you still at Aldrin Space Port? the colonel's distinct voice answered.

The group sighed with relieve. "We're still here. It's music to our ears to know you're alive. Are any other survivors coming from the prison?"

None sir. We're making our way to the space port. Don't worry about the inmates, I've reviewed the terms of their parole, Fredrick reassured.

"How's that?"

Behave, and they get to stay with the refugees until the dust clears. Break the rules and they get to volunteer at the front lines.

"Well, get back here. I'd like to discuss matters before we leave this planet behind."

Understood, sir. Colonel Müller out.

Another wave of silence passed between the officers. "Sir, I would like to ask again if you trust the colonel."

"He knows more about what he's doing than the rest of us. He hasn't lasted over a century and a half by being stupid," the admiral reassured.

16 hrs/32 min/51 sec

"Stay close, we're almost there," Fredrick ordered as he took cover behind a crashed car as rain continued to pour down around them. It was eerie having passed through the square before the Aldrin Space Port so many times before, recognizing it as a home, only to see it tattered by the horrors of the Harvesters. Peaking over his shoulder, he quickly shot down a couple of corrupted Terrans, which he now dubbed 'Infectors' for their role on the field, before beckoning to the others that it was safe to move.

Rushing up the steps, he was greeted by Terrans soldiers with autoshotguns, both in their distinct blue and gray armor. "Colonel! Sorry sir, we thought you were approaching hostiles."

"At ease, lieutenant," Fredrick replied, eyeing the rank on the shoulder-pad. "Make sure these inmates are on the next ship out of here, they classify as civies for now."

"Understood sir. Admiral Hashimoto said to make sure you headed down to the basement as soon as you arrived. He's expecting you."

"Thanks. As you were, gentlemen." He walked down the flood-light lit stairwell leading into the lower levels of the base, where there were dozens of troops and civilians waiting for the next transport out. After pausing for a moment to reminiscently stare at a particular barracks area, he continued to make his way through to an open practice chamber, now reverted into a command center. Turning, Admiral Hashimoto turned to greet the weary medic, saying, "I'd knew you'd make it, colonel. You're just too stubborn to die."

"What's the situation like, admiral?" Fredrick asked with a salute.

"While you were under cryo, we've done our best to help the others prepare. Now, the galaxy is under siege, everyone is scraping together whatever resources they can to survive, and we're all banking our lives on a bit of Prothean salvage that they found almost a month ago on Mars, known as the Crucible. We don't know how far along it is, but it's a work in progress. Everyone else has their own concerns, but at least our people are relatively safe. Right now, your duty is to help get those scientists out of there."

"Got it sir. Anything specific about the others? Specifically Earth and Khar'Shan?" Fredrick inquired further.

"It's bad. Anyways, I'll be sending a squad with you out there to help those science team still trapped out there. They'll be needed to build the Crucible. Now before you go, I must know about your current condition."

Fredrick paused before shrugging and responding, "You know better than I do, admiral. I've just woken up, and I haven't seen a proper report on it yet. I was too busy making sure I slipped through the Harvesters' clutches."

"Do you really think you'll last any longer?" They were interrupted by a sudden projection of Harbinger over the holotable. "You really think this is a worthy cause to fight for? You know the outcome as well as the rest of us, Fredrick."

"And let you continue with this madness?!" Fredrick growled. "You've been at this cycle for how long now?! Whatever you may claim it to be, you're not accomplishing anything by doing the same fucking thing over and over again! That's the text-book definition of insanity!"

"And has attempting to convince an ignorant galaxy of their fate been any different? The galaxy needs this and you know it," Harbinger countered. "Besides, you could make this infinitely less painful if you just surrendered."

"Your senseless rabbling is as bad as mine. And for such an entity who preaches perfection, salvation, and ascension, you've done little more than enforce chaos and destruction."

"Hmmmm. It's a shame we couldn't convince you. By the sound of things, we almost had you convinced."

"Whatever. I'll see you in hell. And tell Nazara I said hello when you invariably get there first." Fredrick angrily shut off the projection before, leaving the other officers taken aback by the conversation. "How bad have the council races been doing?"

Clearing his throat, Hashimoto returned, "From the reports I've seen, it's bad. The rate at which the infection is moving through your systems has barely been slowed, and is now up to 35% before the Batarian distress signal came through. However, the effects of the virus have been minimal, aside from physical rearrangement of the neurons in your brain and the appearance of a neural synchronizer at the base of your neck. Do you remember getting that implemented?"

Fredrick raised an eyebrow as he answered, "No sir, I'm a field medic, not an engineer."

"Yes, well that's what your former engineer Captain White told me. I've got engineers ready to rig your system with a method to slow it down. It might reset some of your non-essential systems to factory zero, but it's necessary if any of us are going to continuously trust you. I know you'll understand," Hashimoto continued.

"I do. I can assure you that it'd be against my interest in every way to turn against what I've stood for until now. I'll keep up the fight whatever the cost may be. As for my condition..." Fredrick paused for a moment to pull out his side arm to observe it. The paint job he'd originally gotten on the Citadel three years prior hadn't faded too much, but the scratches at the edges were getting worse with each use. Observing it, he made sure it still worked with the customizations he had in place. "Unless we find a permanent solution, I'll see to it that the issue is resolved differently before I'm too far gone."

"Are you sure you're willing to go through with it?"

"If it means making sure the Harvesters are gone for good, I will." Fredrick turned to head to the engineers for his next appointment. Maybe the others were faring a bit better.