Chapter 4: Gambit
"I was later questioned over the death of the merc. The officer was a Specter, asari I think, and since it was that lady in blue I decided to eye her. My friend if you ever want to get by an asari scott-free, eye her body. Make her believe you want her, make yourself look like you dream about her at night. That your thoughts are never truly your own; that she controls everything you ever shall want. They are all simple creatures asari; too easy to flatter. However, this tactic is nearly impossible with justicars... they are more... how shall we say, regal in nature.
"Anyway, I really didn't have to pull many strings to get out free of the charge. In fact I got an asari's home number, which I thought might be good as a stress reliever later. An easy fix and a night for the future, everything was bliss. Yet I was still bothered.
"I was really angered by this, why did I feel concerned, or even worried? The friends at C-Sec clearly still liked me and the way that asari moved about showed she was exhibiting her curves to me, so why did I worry... no, fear?
"It took a short walk along the gardens inside the once in-process Commons Area of the Citadel till I realized what it was. It was not that I had killed the man, or that I feared I may be charged. No it was that I had not wanted to kill the man. If that merc had tried to kill me, and these incestuous thoughts intercepted my brain I would have surely died.
"This worry brought me back to the days when I was part of a military strategist group. But you wouldn't want to hear that now would you?"
The skies of Omega were marred with the smoke of industry. Progress, technology, and freedom were all at a pinnacle that no city had ever attainted. The images of asari strippers echoed purple that draped itself over the whizzing sky cars. These flickering ebbs of seduction were but a simple bed sheet over the writhing beast that was its inhabitants. Flickering signals dancing in over the intricate expansion of airways were lost to those who did not have the proper code translators; though the flicker of lights could also be the marks of snipers, a merc waiting for his licensed kill. There is an old saying in Omega; to live fast you must die even quicker.
An echo of a beat shot through the air. It was stirring, orgasmic; the type you enter into a dingy bar filled with smoke to find that perfect asari dancing. You know she's too good for you but you cannot pass up the opportunity. Her writhing form, sensuous features are like an oasis. Then, when you can barely stand she leans in, puts one finger to your chin and pulls you close. With a lick of her blue lips your tongue starts to beg for a taste. It is then she whispers, "Welcome home my love." Ya, that's Omega to a tee.
Smoke was like tendrils, long tentacles of beckoning. You want to be here, they said. You want to stay. We will make you happy. Come to our bed. Too many swayed by the luscious hips of an asari dancer, too many deprived of the need for control, too many begging for a chance to feel real and complete. In the end we all comeback to Omega once we truly have had a taste for it. It never leaves you, it always wants you again. It's never the want that drives man mad; it is the chance to be wanted. Omega is like a one way mirror, you see your reflection and feel accepted but at the same time you are scrutinized by outside forces looking in on your private masquerade. Private, that's a laugh. Nothing is private on Omega.
"What are you thinking operative?" The words swayed me from the sensations of the city and cause me to turn to the speaker. Kirrahe is there, driving the vehicle with both his hands, only using one would be suicide here.
"What we are all thinking sir," I replied with an illicit tone. "The chance to feel Omega." He laughed and shook his head. I returned to the passenger window of the car, salarians never understand.
"I would keep your eyes on the window ahead if I were you, that image holds more realized potential."
I turned to the window with a glare; I am replied with an image of myself basked in the river of lights. "And what might that be sir?"
"Yourself," was the one worded reply.
I laughed and it seemed Kirrahe did not take it lightly. Who cares? I thought with a grin, I'll be dead if this works anyway. I mean wasn't that what it was all for? Sex, drugs, guns. All to end life faster? It seems that no one makes it past fifty nowadays. To hear that in the 21st century on Earth there were population issues... Heh, we are looking in a population decline. On the other hand possibly there is too many people therefore there are too many people who can die. I shake my head and try to rid myself of these thoughts. They are like cancers that grow inside the mind. It is a worm that squeezes their way into the tiniest pockets of doubt and despair. In the end it is the want for something greater. Something to shout aloud a purpose to it all. The dancing asari. The purple lights. The shooting mercs. The ebbing flow of the traffic. The beat that enters the mind, swindles it dry and begs... no succeeds in ripping you out of your world. What you are left with in the end is a rotting corpse with a forgotten name. Omega is a disease plain and simple; a disease that everyone wants and one we have created: complacency.
"You know the plan?" asked Kirrahe after he ducked under another vehicle, he made no indication of slowing down his speed.
I made no indication of recognition. There was something hypnotising in this land of colours and dreams. It was hard to place; maybe it's a drug or a pheromone that attaches itself to the center of your pleasuring impulses. But whatever it was, it gets a hold of you. Sadly in the end it's all smoke and mirrors. Heh, the skies of Omega were marred with the smoke of industry... Wait... I've said this before haven't I?
I blinked twice, the echoing sensation of the beat drifted away. Where was I? How did I get in a small hovercraft travelling thousands of miles an hour to god knows where? Oh ya that's right, I was forced here for my 'crimes'. No wait, specifically. Think Marcus think! What about your morning? I remember waking up. The lights of the eternal Citadel shone through my window. I dressed, went up to eat at some breakfast. It was shady little cafe, the little dangling wires, swaying at the motion of any passerby. Unifier's Gantry I believe the name was. From there I left and entered our headquarters to talk about the plan. Something to do with a deal involving Red Sand...
Oh that was why I was here.
Logic seemed to lose all linearity there. Time seemed to lose all coherency. In the end we became what they want us to be: slaves. Serving the endless tables of dancing asari, trapping souls like a moth to a flame... "Marcus... Marcus!" Kirrahe's voice jerks me forward. I shake my head and rub my eyes. Sanity is overrated.
I turned to Kirrahe and asked, "Oh, what did you want?"
The salarian captain gave me a look of dismay. "I thought you knew the plan?" I tried to create words but I gave up. The flashing lights continue breaking all thought and concentration. I heard the voice of Kirrahe again yet this time it is softer, more relaxed. "You haven't been to Omega in a while have you?"
"How can you guess?" I replied sarcastically. Blinking didn't help; it only created a darkness that weaved the colours around you into your nightmares. Omega wasn't a safe haven, it was, and still is, a trap.
"I know how you feel operative. Back when I was with the STG I had my first experience with Omega." Kirrahe banked left and then lurched the ship down a few hundred meters before straightening it out. "It seems like your mind does not become your own. Like you lose all touch on reality and what you believe in. It's systematic chaos Operative Tyson, nothing more nothing less."
"Isn't the entire galaxy?" I asked turning to the salarian.
Kirrah furrowed his brow and scratched his head. When his hand returned to the wheel he spoke. "We have to change that, bring order to chaos. If we are not the ones to change what are we? A slave, operating on the very fabric of hatred some of this galaxy is created on. Unity is strength, remember that." I sighed but he did have a point. Unity was what saved us from the Reapers... or was it just luck?
We stayed silent for a moment as I hear on the cars around us whip by, not caring about anyone around them. Nihilism screamed from their actions and I couldn't blame them, after the Reaper War everything went to shit. I had been given a second chance though, whatever that meant. "Why'd you choose me for this mission?" I asked tonelessly. Kirrahe seemed taken aback but answered truthfully nevertheless.
"They are radicals operative." I raised an eyebrow to this. Kirrahe smiled. "I did some digging. I could only find a few people who they trade with regularly and so I found that most of their dealings are with humans. Having you with me just makes it more legit to be brutally honest." I nodded slowly and returned to gazing out the window. There were still at least two more humans in our group who he could have picked but didn't, why? Kirrahe sensed my confusion and responded, "I wouldn't have taken you if you weren't a good operative..."
"Or a liability," I interrupted with a surprising bitterness I had not expected. Kirrahe gave a sigh.
"You know I don't care for what happened between you and the Earth Alliance operative. What happened, happened and I cannot blame you for considering the safety of your crew over..."
"I disobeyed orders, I got fucked for it. We done?" The alarming simplicity to it even shocked me and I wanted to make amends to my outburst. In doing so however I would tarnish my pride, the last thing I had that was truly mine.
Kirrahe's gaze stopped and I notice his lips pressed tight in a thin line. He did not rub his scales nor did he make any motion of discomfort or acknowledgement. He simply said, "Yes, yes we are."
That same tone, direct yet complacent was the same one he used when he confronted us on the volus. He treated us like brothers, him being our father. Some would call it old fashioned yet it gave our unit a bond we had not felt in our entire lives. The military nowadays was only concerned with money dealt under the table, concerned with only 'success'; whatever the hell that meant. I remember what Thionan said about it all, "Why would they imprint the thoughts of glory into our heads if they were not losing men? It's a cheap tactic. Cheap warfare, cheap deaths."
I remember asking Carman about it all. He was the type of person who'd always give his opinion of the subject at hand, even if you didn't want his opinion at all. He told me the chain of command was just rules to him. "Loose guidelines," he would reason with a smile. "In the military they tell you to fight, kill, murder, anything for victory. But when one person who is a bystander gets in the way they expect us to be the 'good guys'. We are neither saints nor miracle workers, that was what Shepard was and he clearly didn't obey any rules now did he? My point is that we are impossibility, we have to kill and yet we are bound in perimeters that tell how to kill. To truly do our job we have to become our enemy, get in their head, fight like they do. But we are never allowed to do such things. That's why our squad works. He doesn't care about anything but success, he gives us freedom." Kirrahe... who would've thought one salarian could bring together all these murders and lawless species together for a common goal? I guess that was the magic to him, the magic that gained us the most successes and the most hatred.
There was a roar of sirens. Somewhere someone had died, killed, or had exploded himself into thousands of little bits thus taking people with him. On Omega those were the only things that the police could possibly be interested in. For everything other than that they did themselves. I sighed, the world was too grey. The original black and white mentality had faded causing less discrimination and segregation. But with the sudden acceptance of an 'evil cop' the terms soon become diluted. It was impossible to judge someone on their appearance. Even so it is still impossible to judge a killer from a saint. Those trapped in a sinner's whims will be painted with the same brush. In the end we all become sinners. The ones who try to become saints die too quickly and too uneventfully.
There was a crash as a car in front of us bursts into flames. The hulk drifts downward into an anti-climactic whimper. That's what happens when we die; just a whimper nothing more. I looked to a sign we passed. The asari stripper danced, cooing with her silent commandments. She probably has children, a family. She fucked to live and when she got home her husband demands her greatest trade as well. I chuckled as I turned back to the front of the car. The moral grey saved and damned us all. Well it has to doesn't it? If not then it wouldn't be a 'moral grey.'
Kirrahe motioned towards the ground and the car swerved to his command. I squinted my eyes and noticed the small people below. They were insects in their own kingdom. Mindless soldiers accepting their continued existence... damn I'm getting preachy. I should really stop.
I looked to my outfit. Black suit with a black tie, classy and it makes me look rich. A white button down and pointed shoes are just icing on the credit cake. Though I hate the Citadel for its wrong doings, I do admit having them as an employer has some benefits. I looked to Kirrahe who wore a typical armour set. It was efficient, practical and expensive. If someone said we didn't look 'don't fuck with me enough' I don't know what would be wrong with that guy's eyes.
The car hovered around in circles above the dealing place. I wondered why Kirrahe did this until I saw the two armoured humans walk out of our meeting building and, with a few shots in the air of their pistol, scattered the crowd. It was effective and sent a message, quick and simple; just how I liked it. "Total disregard..." was all I heard Kirrahe say in dismay as the car lowered softly and landed with a sudden jolt. Kirrahe turned to me and nodded as he turned the engines off. From here on in we had to rely on our con. I swallowed hard; I hope Kirrahe had those men positioned well if anything went ass up.
The car's doors lifted above us and Kirrahe stepped out. I waited for Kirrahe to come to my door and open it himself. This got the scoff of the guards and a smile from me, being pretentious after all was what I was going for. We walked around the car and faced the guards. They wore helmets of silver and clasped their guns with shocking familiarity; I would not have guessed hired mercs had such talent. My salarian friend looked around and spoke, "You sure no one will come inside?"
The guard on the left spoke and I smiled as my guess on his species was correct. "Raven said this place is secure. What Raven wants he gets." Raven? Who the fuck calls themselves 'Raven' unless they are a pretentious bastard? I sighed internally; I guess these were no professionals after all.
It seemed my commander thought the same of the name as he took a bit to formulate his thoughts. I had to nudge him softly with my elbow to indicate my displeasure on his timeliness. He quickly apologized to me then turned to the guards again. "Lead on gentlemen, my boss does not want to waste time mingling in the open." The guards both bowed simultaneously and walked us inside. We both had small pistols strapped to our thighs in case of emergency and I doubt the guards cared about them. Yes there were benefits to being on the rough side of life, as there was for many things in life. I chuckled, moral grey again eh Marcus?
We entered a small shop to which we went past the counter. I noticed the young salarian cashier, his head splattered open and his body slouching over the welcome table. I pressed my lips tight together and sighed, this is what we got for dealing with liars and whores. I always had a knack for expecting this type of warfare when dealing with gangs, yet it never helped me stomach it when the time came. It was the thought that it could be me, or Thionan, or anyone I knew. It was horrifying. But that horrified feeling also told me one thing, at least I was still human.
After a few doors and some eye scanners we entered a large warehouse. Boxes and crates stacked high to the ceiling. That said ceiling was glass, the reinforced kind that most stores now had. It would take more than a few high power rounds of a missile launcher to break that pane. My gaze came from the top of the building down to the center. In the middle stood a man, human I suspected with a black leather tunic on. He had black leather pants, boots, and matching gloves. To put the final touch on it all he had a leather mask that allowed his flowing noir hair to sway behind him. The only thing open in that mask was the eye sockets. They were blue eyes, deadly eyes, but most of all; intelligent eyes. In a line around him were a few mercs each with the same outfit the guards had, each member had a helmet over their heads, shielding their faces, preventing anyone to know who they really were. However there was a few that were exceptions. There was a bald human who did not wear a mask. Scars were running down his face and neck and he wore a leather suit similar to the man leading the group. This bald human had a long knife in his hands and he was fondling it like a mother to a babe. Three people over was a young asari, wouldn't put her past fifty with orange face paint. She also wore a leather outfit. So did a dark blue drell with eyes closed and hands clenched, probably praying to some god somewhere; drell were always pious folk.
The man in full black leather took a step forward and opened his arms wide. I did not know if he was smiling but his next statement betrayed that expression. "Welcome, my friends. It is good to see you today. Now, this is in the dealings of Red Sand, is it not?"
Kirrahe took a step forward. "You are Raven?" I looked from the man in leather to the salarian commander. I sure hoped his guess was right for I could not back him up if he was wrong.
The man chuckled softly, almost as a coo from a bird. "No, that is the mantle I wear my friend. But you many call me Raven if it suits you." I could see Kirrahe did not know what to make of the man, neither did I. In military training they teach you to watch the eyes, watch the hands. He will betray his most valuable possessions by giving time and pause to it. Yet this man, Raven, only looked to us with this keen satisfaction. We could not possibly be this possession of his. Unless... no, that would be insane and paranoid. "But enough petty babbling. It would be rude for me not to show the collection I have obtained before you pay your hefty sum." I nodded stoically. The amount was around five million credits for six tons of Red Sand. It was a pricey buy but for someone with the right brains in the business could make double his profit back in less than a year. Unfortunately we were at the mercy of the device Thionan and I had picked up on Earth. Kirrahe had informed us it was indeed a signal to nearby terrorists and travellers. It was as a broad message for anyone who wanted the deal of Red Sand. It also listed other possible contact areas for other deals which was nice if this plan went to shit. But it won't, I thought to myself with a smile, already this idiot has betrayed too much. I could not possibly have known how wrong I was.
A large cart came out. It was rolled on the bed of blue pulsating light, it was the light of a biotic, a powerful one to by the look of it. The asari in leather had the lights echoing around her thin fingertips. Her gesture showed ease and more interestingly, boredom. It fascinated me to see her effortlessly move the heavy crate. Most biotics I knew would crack under that pressure, she was good and I hated the thought of fighting her. Raven nodded for it to be lowered and the crate did so. A loud thud was heard as wood meet concrete showing the true weight of the box. A hand swayed wide was the invitation Raven gave to us for the box to be checked of its quality. Kirrahe wasted no time in approaching the box. With ease he revealed a potency analyzer. He ran the device over the box a few times and when he was happy with the result he retreated back to my side.
"I trust you are pleased with the quality of our work?"
"You trust correctly," was Kirrahe's response.
A small chuckled escaped the lips of the man. "Excellent. I am very pleased to be of service to you both. You are again...?"
"Thomas E. Worthings," Kirrahe replied with a hand directed to me. "I am but his humble chuffer for this deal. The matters of business are so foreign to my mind I really would not know what to do at the first sight of such illicit activities. I mean I could be very well informed to hand them over to the police and get myself—"
"Enough!" yelled the bald man. His knife danced in his fingers and I suddenly became increasingly nervous despite the armour beneath my suit.
Raven held up a hand which stopped the other humanoid in his tracks. "I am sorry for my companion's outburst, it shall not happen again..."
"It better not," said I. It was my first comment in this whole matter. It helped to give simple terms to signify your authority. Raven noticed it as well and bowed humbly. This one is odd, very odd, I thought to myself. When was the last time a leader of a gang bowed to another? Does he even care about self-respect?
There was a pause as neither party spoke. A serine blasted through the air as a few gunshot pierced the night. No one in the room flinched to the harsh sounds of bullet meeting flesh outside the warehouse. At last someone spoke. "Now before payment is dealt with I would like to show you a friend of mine," started Raven as he headed back to the line of mercs, "he says he could help me negotiate a fairer deal with the likes of wealthy businessmen like—"
"This was to be between us and you Raven," interrupted Kirrahe, his tone increasing. "My master and I will not allow a third party to enter in unless requested on our terms."
Raven gave no recognition of the comment; however he did acknowledge it with his words. "Oh I'm sure you know him very well, especially that you hired him to find me. Isn't that right Kirrahe?" My eyes bulged wide. How the... how did he know... what the fuck was going on? Kirrahe too, seemed rattled and disturbed by the unfolding events. There was a loud bang as the back doors of the warehouse swung wide and opened to a crimson car entering in and slowly lowering itself to the ground. Its shiny exterior was a contradiction to the atmosphere around it, but I guess that as Omega for you. It was then I swore under my breath as the doors of the car opened and a familiar volus appeared.
A wheeze came forth from the small figure as he hobbled over to Raven's side. "Good day Major Kirrahe, you too operative." Fuck fuck fuck fuck, what the hell was going on? I gritted my teeth in anger. I thought Carman said the infiltration of the money was a success? No, the volus couldn't have known about that for he filed a burglary with the C-Sec. If he knew it was us then he would have called in the Council. But how... why...?
"Confused Kirrahe? I would be too if I were in your position." Raven's eyes twinkled in delight.
"You lying son of a bitch. You fucking-"
"Now, now Major Kirrahe," spoke the volus after another forced whine of his suit, "I trust we can all be civil about this. Mr. Raven here only offered me a better deal than you did. He gave me triple; no quadruple the amount you promised. I'm sorry for the betrayal but to be honest it's just good business right?" Kirrahe gritted his teeth. My teeth were already wearing from the strain I had put on them. Though my worry only increased. Why hadn't the snipers done something yet? Kirrahe had positioned them around this building hadn't he? They couldn't have... then it dawned on me. The bullets outside... the screams. Raven had used the atmosphere of Omega to his advantage.
I turned to Kirrahe. "Captain, the snipers—"
"Dead, I know." Those chilling words only brought bile to my throat as the uneasy ceasefire continued.
"Now with those unnecessary aces in the hole gone I shall let one of the players leave this area," spoke Raven as he motioned the volus to his car. Crates upon crates of money were being dumped inside and the volus could hardly move. I couldn't believe it either. Most transactions were done through electronic devices, but to go back to such primitive times as paper credits... Raven was old fashioned and I could appreciate that about him for what it's worth.
The volus could hardly move but found a way to turn to the man in leather and shake his hand. "Thank you Mr. Raven, thank you indeed! You will not regret this transaction, I promise you!" The volus started his waddle towards his car before he turned and said, "You have my contact information if you wish to do this again."
Raven gave a chortled to that a whispered beyond the volus' hearing, "Oh I doubt that." With those words the volus entered his car. I noticed how all of Raven's men had run away from the car. How very odd—instantly my eyes grew wide with realization as my eardrums screamed out in pain. There was a massive explosion of flame. Kirrahe and I shielded ourselves from the shearing heat that emanated from the blast. Crimson flames licked the ceiling as the men of the Vipers braced themselves from the blast. At least a dozen explosives were in that car, there was no way the volus could have lived. I turned my head towards the massive flaming hulk and there standing in front of it, unflinching, was Raven. The man moved his hand to catch a burning bill with his hand. Flames ate the paper money at alarming speeds but with a quick shake of his hand the flames died on the bill leaving his half ruined. There was a great laugh that filled the room that came from Raven and once it was done he turned to us. "This is what we gave ourselves up to after the Reaper War... so utterly disgraceful and shaming of the volus people." He crunched the bill in his hand and ash started to fall from the cracks in his fingers. He opened his hand and a draft let the crumpled bill loose in the smoke dancing in the warehouse.
"You killed him..." spoke Kirrahe in hushed tones. "You're a monster!"
A great laugh came from Raven. "Tell me now Kirrahe, if that man had been tried for treason in his home system, would he have been executed?" Kirrahe's silence only amused Raven further. "Exactly my point. Though we live on opposite sides of the coin remember that I am no stranger to justice, Kirrahe. Please do remember that before calling me a monster. For from your use of that phrase you would call a judge in a jury room equal to a mass murderer and they clearly are not the same... or are they?"
His last words were shocking for someone to utter. It was what we all had been thinking for so long yet no one had stood up against it. The Reaper War had bred a greater enemy, complacency and now this man stood at the head of it all, spitting in its face. If he had not threatened me so, I would have congratulated him, maybe even tried to talk with him. As such the greatest people were often your greatest enemies.
Raven had this fascinated stare. He was gazing at Kirrahe and after a moment of silence he shook his head and said, "Now we all know what must happen now Kirrahe. Tis such a shame to waste such talent. You were never meant to be paint on warehouse walls were you?" There was a pause as we digested these words. "But I do have a position opened for a salarian specialist in espionage. I am sure you could fill it nicely." A salarian wearing a helmet just like the other guards took and step forward and turned to Raven.
"Sir, I thought that I was the -" He could never finish his sentence as his head was crushed with the blue ebb of biotic powers. Emerald blood scattered about the room as his head became nothing more than liquid. The stub of bone sticking out horrifically from his pasted head quivered as he succumbed to gravity. The person responsible was the asari, her fingers dancing as the flow of her energy coursed through her body.
Kirrahe looked from the salarian to Raven in disgust. "I assume you promised him the same as you are promising me now. No, I reject your offer. It has no place in honour or glory. Your words are tainted with your actions Raven; society has no place for you."
The man in black gripped his heart with his hand and looked down in falsified anguish. "Oh I'm such a terrible person," he said, his words traced with sarcasm. "Oh what have I done? Murder, slander, hatred? Oh woe is me! I have been damned with the curse of hypocrisy! Or have I learned it too well from my government? The people who I trusted with my security and instead send money under the table to mercs and thieves to keep my view of reality untarnished! Since I have been deprived of these civil liberties I will give you a chance to reconsider Kirrahe. You're a good soldier and I would hate to see you well..." he looked to what was left of the salarian, "you don't need any description of that now do you?"
The atmosphere became tense as Raven's men grasped their guns. Kirrahe manoeuvred his hand to his pistol and I did the same. We both knew our chances of survival were grim but we might as well make one hell of a fight. Go out with a bang as the recruits would always say. To be truthful the prospect of dying in my sleep alone seemed like a much more appetising death. "It's been an honour serving with you operative," Kirrahe stated grimly. I looked to him and smirked.
"It's not over yet captain." The old salarian war veteran looked to me with pity, maybe he was sad that I had been brought into this, birthed into a society of hatred and spite. It all would be over soon.
"I'll give you till the count of three, just to be hospitable," said Raven with his usual charismatic wit. I knew would be getting my pistol pointed at first. My grin only widened at the thought of Raven's smug comments getting blown off just like his face.
"One." No one moved. The air was held taunt in the silence.
"Two." We all drew our weapons, mine we aimed straight for his head. I could see his brains being splattered and it was glorious. Then the next sound broke me from my trance and my mind was sent awhirl yet again.
"Three," said Operative Carman as he materialized right behind Raven. There were screams as the flash of Carman's omni-blade rang through the air and as the blade pierced the armour of a soldier who threw himself in front of his leader. Carman stood dazed just for a second at the death before him. It was a second too late as the powerful asari threw a bolt of blue light into him sending the operative rolling in the air and into the burning wreck of the volus' car. I could see his body ricochet off the car and disappear into the air as a rain of fiery bullets showered his last position. But I had no time to consider these thoughts any faster as my own gun lurched at the firing of its ammo. The asari was quick though and placed up a barrier to protect Raven and the soldiers beside him. My shot did not hit Raven, but Kirrahe's hit the outside men as their shields fell, sending them flailing backwards.
Kirrahe grabbed me and threw us down behind a crate as the buzz of bullets ran through the air. Sizzling things ran by my head and I found myself panting in exhaustion and exhilaration. "I couldn't take anyone out before we had to duck behind here," said Kirrahe between the blasts of guns around us.
"Carman took his sweet time though," I replied jokingly. Kirrahe did not seem amused.
"I couldn't see him after the shooting started. Damn I hope he's alright, that biotic is quite powerful." Kirrahe threw himself over the crate and fired a few shots before ducking back down. A blaze of projectiles streamed where he once was.
I twisted around to my left and flung my pistol out. Time seemed to freeze as my aim picked one of the mercs. He had an assault rifle and I could tell instantly I was outmatched, yet my aim was impeccable. A pull from my finger and a shattering of his shield was the satisfaction of victory got. I shot again and the spurt of crimson from his chest ensured he would be in the fight no longer. A sickening crack brought the speed of reality back into play as I pushed myself up from the ground. The cement where I once lay was now riddled with holes. The air suddenly became hot and heavy as Kirrahe ducked out again, one of the shots hit him square in the chest and sent him backwards into a few wooden crates. He ducked down just in time to see the wood above him burst into splinters. I wanted to crawl over but I knew it could leave me exposed. So I contented to duck out, fire a shot, and then return to my seated position. Rounds upon rounds of bullets pierced the sky and I thanked whatever god was out there that Kirrahe had pulled us behind a metal crate. The sounds of that biotic ripping the nearby scenery did nothing to help the imagination on what she could do to us if she was quick enough. I was just thankful that she wasn't that good.
"You ok?" I screamed as the air vibrated around us.
"Shields down, armour scratched yet I detect not sign of flesh wounds."
"I'll take that as a yes," I replied as I flew up atop the crate and fired a few well-placed bullets, shattering the shields of a human. It dawned on me as I pulled myself down that Raven had recruited a lot of humans, asari as well. I spotted neither krogan nor vorcha. I didn't even see any varren. The only salarian there was killed earlier. It seemed the typical merc army was foreign to these killers. I would have made some smart remark about their aim but the crate exploded to my left causing me to be flung right and my shield to weaken significantly. I rolled over and held my hand to my ear, trying desperately to stop the ringing. I succeeded but only just. I guess there was no true victory here, only survival.
Kirrahe had returned by my side and now was on his knees. He was favouring his left slightly as he had been hit more to the right side of his chest. He whipped over and a few shots later returned to the ground. Another explosion sounded behind us causing me to wince with the heat. "We can't stay here much longer, the structural integrity of the cover we have right now—"
"Tell me something I don't know!" I fired back as my gun flinched under the strain I was placing on it. My ammo cartridge was out but I only had to slip into my back pocket to get another thermal clip and start firing again.
Carnage reigned with an iron grip; we were in its hot oven. It was only a matter of time before he were taken out and placed on the smiting block. Damn I hate my metaphors, always the most pleasant things I can think of. Why can't I make a metaphor about trees or the grass of a nice littler butterfly flying in the—another explosion sounded and I had to brace myself against it. I flung myself over to spy that Raven was no longer there. Well fuck that meant the asari was done with her barrier duties. I only had a few clips left but I knew she had become my prime target. Now where the hell...
The crate we had been using flipped upwards and us with it. We came crashing into the crates behind us. I felt my back strain as the heavy metal box was pushed onto my body. I found a way to wiggle out but to my pain a rain of shots was fired on me. I found myself running to some rickety cover but was shot in the leg and chest. I went diving into cover, my shield now all but exhausted. Strain we everywhere and my muscles were crying out for mercy. I could give them none, death awaited the merciful.
Worry seemed to clench my throat. Where was Kirrahe? I looked around the wreckage where we once were but found no one. Dammit, where could he be? I flung myself over my makeshift cover and was rewarded with a mercs head exploding. The cartilage of his brain upon impact went flailing into the ground. Bright red blood oozed out of the humans head as a wet gurgling sound was made. I was below cover when the thud of him hitting floor was made. It wasn't the sight of it that bothered me, it was that the odds of the same thing happening to me exponentially increased by every second. I have had only a few near death experiences in my life and I considered this one by far the worst. At least the last time had Thionan with me to make jokes. Speaking of which where was the bastard? I thought he was heading the sniper team and covering our asses... shit. The thought of his demise hit my hard, but not as hard as a stray rocket the exploded my crate and sent my barreling out of cover to my next shield. I found none and was greeted with a blast to my ribs and a bullet through my thigh. I howled in anguish as I sent out a line of suppressing fire. It worked and only just as I forced my shot leg to launch me into my next cover. I was searing with pain and the soft crimson oozing from the scratches on my head and holes in my body did little to ease the feeling.
I looked around and noticed Kirrahe, he had engaged a merc hand to hand. Lifting my head I noticed the quick and brutal punches Kirrahe was throwing, ending in his hand grappling the mercs head and snapping his neck like a twig. I cringed, never would have thought that salarian capable of such atrocities, this was war however, where men became animals to survive. I returned to the lessons in my Alliance training. Mercy was for the weak.
Kirrahe slide into a nearby crate. I looked to him and saw green blood dripping from his mouth. His shoulder had taken a direct hit and when he was not firing his pistol with his right arm he was clotting his wound. I yelled for his attention and he gave it to me. "What the hell is the plan Kirrahe?" I screamed. The ferocity of my words seemed alien to me, maybe it was the pain from my leg and my side speaking, I did not know.
Kirrahe pursed his lips together, fired a few shots haphazardly, and then spoke, "I don't know operative..."
"You don't know?" I cursed at those words and fired a few shots backwards before screaming out in pain. I gripped my side. Blood dyed my hand red. My breath came heavy. Darkness started to usurp my eyes. "There must be something we can do? Isn't there anyone we can call? Police possibly?"
"You don't think everyone else on Omega is trying that same damn thing?" Kirrahe replied as the crate cracked and buckled under the weight of the suppressing fire. The salarian looked around quickly, I did the same. There was no more cover nearby, once these crates went we were on our own and I knew we couldn't last that long without cover. A blue biotic impulse whizzed by my head and shattered the crates before me. I took a sharp inhale, the next blast would be right for my head. They are toying around with us, I thought bitterly. This is just practice to them. Sacrifice, losses, all numbers. How the hell do you fight something like that?
"We have to run for it," stated Kirrahe bluntly.
"Run?" I repeated, hoping that I had misheard. "I'm not sure about you Kirrahe but my leg has been completely blown to bits. I'm surprised I still have a leg left, let alone half of it."
"I don't need any smart comments right now operative. I'm not your friend and this is not some training exercise."
"Try telling that to them." Another explosion of hot flames licked beside me. I could feel the life draining from me and I knew that if we didn't make a move soon we'd be dead. I sighed, it seemed like the only option, I didn't like to admit it, but if he had a chance it would be in running. "Ok, I agree... do you have any ideas?"
Kirrahe looked around and squinted. A few bullets grazed my crate and I felt my heart skip a beat each time one whisked past my head. "We are near an exit. The doors may be locked but I'm sure a few precision rounds could break the lock... you ready?"
"Now?"
"As good a time as any." I held my breath and wiped my hand up to the top of the crate. I fired a few bullets but had to duck down to my weight being on my leg wound. I cringed in agony. Now was as good a time as any. Now was the time to fly or die. Heh, if I had to die it would be making a joke wouldn't it?
"I'm ready Captain, I just want to say it's been a pleasure serving under you and I mean that. That's not some near death sort of bullshit most men scream-"
"Marcus," interrupted Kirrahe with a smile, "my name is not captain, it's Kirrahe." With that he turned his pistol to the door and fired the shots. The door buckled under the weight of the fire and I cringed at the sound of metal upon metal. At last the doors burst open with the ring of freedom. It was the call to escape and Kirrahe's words were only the command to the beckoning. "On the count of three. One, two—"
"Three!" I screamed and duck out of my cover. I tripped over my own leg and hit the ground hard. Firing a few shots to keep them busy I pulled myself up and started to run again towards the door. My shields had recharged slightly and they held the piercing blows of the projectiles. I limped on, watching Kirrahe run on ahead. The salarian commander turned at the door and crouched down, giving me fire to let me through. But a rocket exploded beneath my feet sending me sprawling into wood. There was a crack of either wood or my back as I reeled in pain. I rolled to my stomach and with a last push lifted myself into a seated position. Bullets spewed from the crates around me bursting the wood into tiny shards. Some of these shards drove deep into my skin causing me to cry out in misery. I turned to Kirrahe who was screaming for me to go forward, I could not.
"Common Marcus, you can make it!" The salarian started to move forward but I drew my gun on him. I had sent the message clearly, if anyone was to make it out alive it was him. The commander stood there for a moment till the bullets burst through his shield and he could last no longer. With a stoic nod of his head he leapt from that place, the dust of the bullets meeting the concrete was the last remnants of him.
I sat there, bleeding out as the soldiers drew ever close. I pulled my gun out and fired a few shots. None of them hit. I winced in pain and started to see my vision fade to darkness. No, I could do it; I could at least take one more bastard out with me. I flung my gun out and fired again hitting one in the chest. The asari noticed me then and blasted a ray of blue light into my face. Once the blast reached me I was sent head over heels into the hard cold cement and the beckoning darkness.
In that darkness I heard the sound of metal snapping, wires oozing out steam and smoke. I heard the cringe of a great ship losing power and breaking under the strain of Reaper fire. "Hold on SSV Mackenzie! Jefferson, we need more slugs!" I heard a commando say before his body went up into flames. In that gloom the sound of my own words were nothing more than a dream. My voice commanding the ship, my ship rung out one last time, "This is the SSV Marianas, we are coming to help you SSV Mackenzie. I repeat we are coming to... mother of god... what is that beam...?"
