After that last... lacking chapter, I just had to bounce back with something really good. And I think I might just have done that here. I present to you the longest chapter I have ever written, it's got a load of dialogue, very descriptive on the action, and goes into great detail about the characters.
So, I mean it this time. Enjoy
Benning. Formerly, this agriculturally inclined world served as the prime resource supply to what was formerly known as Arcturus Station. This almost obsolete world was rendered with a very new function when the Reapers descended swiftly and surely upon the Alliance's key military stronghold within the galaxy. Now, with it's relay access cut off, Benning soon saw occupation by Reapers and, as of late, Cerberus. This surely would have seemed the end of Alliance activities within this section of space but, humanity being as stubborn as it is, a strong campaign has been organised to take back the system. It will begin with Benning.
Stationed just outside the mass relay that would lead into the Arcturus Stream was an immense warship of the Alliance, one of the few big ones left relatively intact. While there has been some inaction in setting up a full scale invasion to retake the system, a small team comprising of four individuals knows not the restrictions of a full scale fleet. Thus, all it takes is one decent shuttle with some satisfactory stealth systems to make the trek down upon the small planet of Benning. Then, do they contest with whatever force may occupy their treasured planet, be it the ravenous Reapers or the cancerous Cerberus.
The first member of the quartet of soldiers to arrive in the warship had just left a place they would have deeply preferred to remain behind on. Palaven, the turian homeworld, had not enjoyed one moment of respite since the Reapers had designated one of the sturdiest targets. The turians had not taken it gently, and had fought the Reapers with tooth and nail (or talon and claw), and for this particular turian, it broke his heart to have to leave fighting for his homeworld, jumping into a shuttle and darting halfway across the galaxy, to find himself on an alien ship awaiting cooperation with more aliens.
For Captain Tarkin of the 26th Armiger Legion, he was in something of an optimistic mood. In truth, he wanted to be right back at his birthright, fighting the Reapers till his dying breath. But if his brothers could find it in their hearts to fight the Reapers in this different way, then he supposed he could too. So he patiently marched formally to the designated area where he would be meeting his first teammate, and patiently waited. And waited some more...
It gave him time to ponder his position here. As a member of the coveted Armiger Legion, there was the odd perk associated with such an illustrious rank. The most prestigious was the high quality armour, wrought by Palaven's finest for the finer. Fastened into the armour was propulsion packs, that allowed the otherwise slow turian to launch himself halfway across the battlefield in a flash. And, unlike his brothers, Tarkin could up the ante, for he belonged to class of the Turian Ghost, which meant that he could not only launch himself across the battlefield in a flash, but he could do it... whilst invisible.
But tactical cloaks and propulsion are all very nice, but it's the fleshy organic underneath all that metal that brings such technological wizardry to proper fruition. Tarkin had utilised his skills to their fullest in the battle for Palaven, and he was joined by his brothers, also of the Armiger Legion, but with entirely different skills and talents of their own. It had proven quite the pitched battle, but no side refused to back down. The turians did no such thing as collapsing in the heat of battle, and the Reapers simply brought up a hundred more troops for every ten they lost.
Eventually, it was decided that the Armiger Legion, those blood brothers who had been on the front lines giving it their all, be tactically withdrawn. Tarkin, being the captain, did protest as any decent turian would, but ultimately, it was not his call to make, and so he begrudgingly assigned himself to the new position forced upon him.
"Tarkin, you alright?" His brother known as Attacus asked with deep concern.
"Yes... no." Tarkin replied, quietly for a militant turian such as himself.
"I know." Attacus replied. "It's hard, leaving it, so we can save it."
"Save it?" Tarkin repeated in disbelief. "Were you awake in that last fight? Does it look like it's in any position to be saved?"
Attacus was initially silent, struggling to maintain his upbeat attitude, but eventually he found an appropriate answer.
"Look at it this way." He began. "Batarians, completely gone straight out of the gate. Humans, just barely able to hold onto Sol before it's won. Salarians, having to stay on the outskirts just to avoid the Reapers line of fire. Asari, using hit and run tactics, but the moment they hit Thessia, it's gonna be all hands on deck. And Turians. They can't even take one damn moon let alone the homeworld."
Attacus finished his speech with an air of pride. Tarkin could not help but feel slightly comforted in hearing his words, even if there was the nagging feeling that the Reapers probably would have gone easy on the turians if they exhibited the same combat prowess as their fellow council races. It boiled his blood that the Asari could still claim their homeworld as their own. The most influential of the races and the Reapers were going easy on them. Well, their time would come soon.
"You heard from Tyderius yet?" Tarkin asked his brother in arms and blood.
"Not yet." Attacus replied. "Hoping to get a chance before we split up. You know what new friends they're pairing you up with?"
"Not yet." Tarkin replied.
"I've got a quarian and a vorcha." Attacus said, halfway between gratitude and resentment.
"Well lucky you." Tarkin said, surpassing a light chuckle.
"And an N7." Attacus was suddenly reminded.
"Yeah, lucky you." Tarkin repeated.
"Don't worry." Attacus patted his brother on the back. "Maybe you'll get an N7 too. Someone who can challenge your authority."
"Lucky me." Captain Tarkin repeated...
The Turian Ghost's brief reminiscence was brought to a swift halt as the shuttle that he was awaiting soon docked within the warship. Armed with the knowledge of who was inside, Tarkin stood at attention, and patiently awaited the vehicle's landing.
The craft promptly descended to the hangar, its doors subsequently opening revealing the N7 Operative for the Armiger soldier to see.
Even through the emotionless armour, Tarkin could tell that his presence was barely registered by the operative, who hopped off the shuttle in an instant before he was approached by the turian.
"Captain Tarkin, 26th Armiger Legion. You must be the Paladin." Tarkin introduced himself as formally and as amicably as possible.
"Yep." The Paladin responded as indifferent as his armour suggested.
"Right." Tarkin said gently. "Well…"
The Paladin did not wait for a reply, instead he chose to stroll off into the gathering, surprising Tarkin with his foreknowledge of the situation.
"Have you been briefed?" Tarkin asked, his ironclad turian form struggling slightly to keep up with the manoeuvrable human.
"Of course." The Paladin replied.
"Like properly briefed?" Tarkin asked. "Because there was one or two things missing in my report."
"Oh." The Paladin said, his tone elevating ever so slightly. "Such as?"
"Well." Tarkin began. "I know about you, I know what we're doing here, and I know that this is supposed to be a four piece team."
"Your point being?" The Paladin asked, not seeing where the turian was coming from.
"Well, maybe there was a mix-up, something like a withdrawal of information." Tarkin explained. "But for some reason, I only have the identities of three of our team. You, me, and the krogan. But not the last guy."
"Makes sense." The Paladin mused to himself.
"Why exactly." Tarkin pressed him further, still confused. "Who have we got exactly? I heard that the volus were stepping up but, if we've got a volus, why would they not tell me that?"
"No." The Paladin said. "Not a volus."
"Then who?" Tarkin asked eagerly.
"Oh you'll find out." The Paladin replied, with a hint of amusement in the turian's obliviousness. "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
"Surprise." Tarkin was not one for indulging in the Paladin's delight. "I'd like to be on the safe side. If we've getting a surprise Reaper agent, that's something I'd like to have prior knowledge about."
"Are all you turians so slow to trust?" The Paladin asked rhetorically. "Calm yourself. You'll see what I mean. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to see my new comrade, get my bearings. Save your questions for then, would you kindly?"
Tarkin would have turned their conversation into a proper argument, going at great lengths to explain how, as a member of the Armiger Legion, he was on an equal authority as the N7 Operative. But he decided to bottle his inner thoughts for now, content with pondering why his superiors had decided to withhold such intelligence from him. Was it because he would react badly, derail the mission? Tarkin did not want to know, but suspected that, due to him being under a disproportionate amount of pressure, that could have been the answer.
Eventually, the two of them came to, not a hangar similar to the one they had left, but rather a small control room, bare save for two things. One, the large workbench with an equally large assortment of weapons scattered about it, and two, the krogan standing just beside it, with his back to the pair. The Paladin made the introductions, Tarkin shrinking somewhat, considering he was a turian meeting a krogan for the first time.
"Urdnot Ark?" He addressed.
The krogan turned rotated on the spot in response. First, he noted the human, then his eyes shifted to the turian, and at that instance he let out a groan.
"Well at least you're not a salarian," He spoke in his guttural voice.
"Captain Tarkin, 26th Armiger Legion." Tarkin did his best to formulate a polite but imposing introduction.
"Oo, fancy." The krogan known as Ark replied in mock awe. "And here I am, standing in front of an Armiger and an N7. Where's my autograph book when I need it?"
"Who uses books anymore?" The Paladin casually dismissed the krogan's sarcastic claim and proceeding to the workbench, activating his Omni-Tool and examining it, leaving Tarkin face to face with the krogan, whose disposition towards him he had yet to discern.
"So…" He began, losing his previous formality almost instantly.
Ark simply observed him, a faint smile forming across his wide face. Inside Tarkin's helmet, it was beginning to feel quite humid, and the turian starting to subconsciously fidget with his hands, uncertain of how best to approach this. The krogan suddenly went into a battle pose, raising his gauntlets and pushing the armoured turian about. Tarkin was alarmed at first, but his tone soon changed when Ark let out a hearty laugh.
"Still got it." The krogan mused. "Wish you knew how to make someone jump like that."
"Yeah." Tarkin said nervously. "So… no hard feelings, then?"
"Oh please." Ark declared. "I've taken it all out on marauders anyway. I don't have the time to be mad at some Armi-whatever turian for some genophage that might soon be fixed anyway."
"What?" Tarkin exclaimed, mildly surprised.
"Oh." Ark faltered. "Guess I shouldn't have said that. Never mind, don't you worry your little turian head about that."
The krogan then proceeded to pet the top of Tarkin's helmet, who was finding it all too patronising, in addition to a little bruising, considering it was a krogan doing it.
Ark's playful bantering with his turian teammate was brought to a swift halt when the Paladin suddenly lit up his Omni-Tool, flexing his arm to wield the strong shield that was now resonating from the device. The krogan's attention was immediately turned to the radiant device, and subsequently let out a slight groan when the Paladin retracted his Omni-Shield.
"How in the…" Ark began.
"Just a little perk for someone of my talents." The Paladin remarked dismissively of just how much of an impression he had made on Ark.
"Wait." The krogan said. "I can do something similar."
He drew his Omni-Tool, examining it for a brief moment, and in an instant, his whole form was shrouded in an orange holographic layer of armour, similar to the Paladin's shield.
"Tech armour." He stated. "Fancy, but hardly something worthy for an N7 such as myself."
"Well let's who's left standing on the field then." Ark cried back in defence.
"Looking forward to it." The Paladin say in a tone that did not match the words.
The krogan probably would have gone on bickering, but at that moment, the Paladin's radio inside his helmet started beeping, signs of an incoming call. Turning away from the krogan and turian, he went into conversation, talking at a discreet tone like he did not want them to hear.
"Okay, we'll be right there." He said, before turning back to the duo, who were now eager to hear of this new development. "Right you two, ready to meet the last of the team?"
"Oh am I!" Ark eagerly exclaimed, bashing his gauntlets together.
"Right this way." The Paladin remarked, leading the duo out of the room and out through several corridors.
Soon enough, they came to another small room where the Paladin requested of his comrades to sit patiently, while he went on ahead. Tarkin did as instructed, a strange feel of anticipation as well as foreboding upon him. He did not have to wait there long with his restless thoughts, before the Paladin returned, and in his wake was the fourth member of their team, for all to see….
The Paladin was right. It certainly was a shock, but considering everything there simply was no way Tarkin or Ark could have predicted anything close to this. Out of the various races in the galaxy, and they had certainly see a lot, the thought that maybe, they would be fighting alongside this particular select individual somehow seemed to elude their method of thinking. Tarkin did not know how to properly react at first, sure it had induced a state of surprise all about him, but now that he had time to register his new comrade's appearance, it suddenly struck him that, the turians had absolutely no select grievances against… the Geth, in particular. That thought alone seemed enough for Tarkin to get over his initial shock and instead wait patiently to see where this scenario would lead.
Ark, on the other hand…
"You got exactly two seconds to explain what this thing is doing here before I pull its light bulb head off." He exclaimed in fury, standing tall and menacing over the Paladin and the synthetic.
The Paladin made the notion to reply, but the geth rattled out a reply first, in a metallic monotone voice.
"We are sorry for any initial negative impressions we have made."
Ark stopped in his rage, and Tarkin too could understand. To hear a geth talk, in relative coherent speech that almost sounded apologetic was certainly a first.
"It talks?" The krogan asked in bewilderment, and Tarkin could detect his fury subside for confusion ever so slightly.
"Yes. Yes it does. Surprised?" The Paladin clarified and asked rhetorically.
"Superstition is an understandable reaction in organics." The geth went again. "We do not know how to appropriately react."
Ark simply stood, somehow struck speechless by the geth's continued proficiency with words.
"Why don't I let… him explain?" The Paladin suggested, turning to the geth.
"That would be appropriate." The geth replied in its mechanical drone quietly.
The Paladin took a seat, joined at a slower pace by the still speechless krogan, whilst Tarkin leant forward, eager to hear the synthetic out.
The geth observed the trio through its glowing singular eye. The three fingered hands started to fidget about in a manner of nervousness that looked very familiar to Tarkin. The geth then lowered its eye to the floor, as if in a strange lack of confidence.
"Is something wrong?" The Paladin asked it.
The geth raised its eye to meet him. "We do not know where to begin."
"How about from the beginning?" Tarkin suggested.
"Processing: Correct, we can initiate." The geth said. "Three hundred years ago…"
"Not that beginning." The Paladin quickly interjected, already familiar with the geth's history. "I think he meant from your beginning."
"Our beginning?" The geth asked. "We do not understand."
Tarkin groaned. "Just… explain… what the geth did leading up to the Reapers, and how you came to be here… is that understandable?"
"Processing:" The geth said. "Yes, we have found a suitable initiation point and can proceed."
"Lovely." The Paladin remarked dryly.
The geth placed its hands behind its back to begin its address. "Approximately six months prior to the Old Machine's return…"
"Old Machines?" Tarkin asked.
"I assume he means Reapers." The Paladin remarked dryly. "You do mean Reapers, don't you?"
The geth eyed him quizzically. …Yes. If it promotes further cooperation we will change our designation to Reapers."
"Probably for the best." The Paladin replied. "Now… you were saying?"
The geth resumed his address. "When the geth consensus learned that the… Reapers' return was imminent, we immediately began preparing for war. While the majority of our programs coordinated a defence around our home planets, select platforms were specially commissioned to operate outside the Perseus Veil to preform acts of reconnaissance amongst organic species. This platform was amongst those sent out."
"This platform?" Tarkin repeated slowly. "You mean… you… right?"
The geth simply motioned its hand over its body. "This… platform was sent out on reconnaissance. We surveyed, listened, and awaited the inevitable. When the time came for the Reapers to invade, we made the return journey to re-join our consensus. But... that did not happen."
"What happened?" Tarkin said eagerly.
"We were…" The geth stuttered in its metallic voice.
"Go on." The Paladin said impatiently.
"We… were…" The geth continued its inconsistent speech.
The trio of human, turian and krogan all observed the synthetic with silent intent. They were all eager to hear of its tale, finding the setup intriguing enough, but none could understand why the geth seemed so averse all of a sudden. Faltering and a loose trail of thought was a very… organic notion. Hardly something this machine seemed capable of.
"We were… disconnected." The geth managed to elaborate at last.
"Disconnected?" Tarkin replied. "How exactly."
"Disconnected as in." The Paladin said. "Cut out from the main network of other geth."
His turian and krogan comrades turned their gaze from the geth to analyse him, finding his level of knowledge about the geth just as peculiar as the actual geth.
"What?" He said defensively. "So what I know one or two things about the geth. That's right isn't it?"
The geth eyed him through its singular light. "To an extent. It is difficult to put into organic terms, but yes… this platform was severed from all nearby geth servers."
"And umm…" Tarkin said, struggling to understand. "What exactly were the consequences of you… being disconnected from a geth server?"
"The Old… Reapers." The geth continued. "Ambushed us and prevented our return to the geth consensus. This platform would have likely perished had it not been for an Alliance squad that engaged the Reapers. Upon their discovery of our higher intellect than all previous geth encounters, it was decided that this platform be put to all Alliance operations against the Reapers… for now."
"That's awfully generous I'd say." The Paladin commented. "You must have been rescued by some Samaritans."
"There were some… conflictions at first." The geth explained. "But we have agreed to cooperate with organics until further consensus can be achieved."
"And when will "further consensus" be achieved?" The Paladin asked forebodingly.
"When we join the geth again." The synthetic explained.
The Paladin gave a short laugh of disapproval, and suddenly stood up from his seat in a slightly threatening bound. "Oh, so you're on our side until the geth make their presence in this war. Then you'll just run off and join them, is that right?"
"No…" The geth expressed quite forcefully, yet also with a hint of panic. "We are against the Old err, Reapers."
The geth's eye darted to the floor, while its form hunched back slightly, finding the Paladin almost intimidating. The human looked forward in his helm, his expression hidden from all but it was one of heightened suspicion.
"Okay." Tarkin said, in an attempt to prevent the Paladin from causing the synthetic further distress. "So you're on our side. But what I do not understand is how, well, how can you still, you know… talk like that. Aren't isolated geth supposed to have barely any intelligence."
"Not us." The geth explained, almost glad to be addressing someone other than Paladin. "This is a specialised platform containing one thousand and two independent geth programs. Though our intellect is higher when joined in consensus with other geth, we are… alone, for now. This will not affect our performances in combat scenarios."
"We'll just see about that." The Paladin remarked. "But… seeing as how we're stuck with you for now, we might as well make the most out of it. So, what's your name, geth?"
"Name?" The geth replied. "No, no name. Only geth."
"Oh come on." The Paladin snapped with impatience. "We can't call you geth, that's going to get a little confusing."
The geth raised a hand to its eye, as if deep in thought. "There is one suggestion."
"Let's hear it." The Paladin requested.
"We believe it may reflect our current situation." The geth mused.
"Yes yes, what is it?" The Paladin demanded irritated.
"Superintendent." The geth proclaimed.
The Paladin raised an eye beneath his helm, bemused by that particular choice.
"And how exactly does that reflect your little plight?" He inquired.
"...Well." The geth explained. "This platform bears similarities to a body or organisation of education. The programs represent the varying standards of authority. Our exterior is a shell akin to a building, whilst our voice is that which administers the entities. We... supervise them."
The geth was met with initial silence as the trio tried to discern it's peculiar reasoning.
"Are we comprehensible?" It asked.
"Maybe, sort of... whatever." The Paladin remarked. "As long as you've got a name, it shouldn't matter. So... Superintendent. Would you like us to go over the briefing?"
"We would like that." The newly christened Superintendent replied.
"Good." The Paladin replied, before setting himself back down in his seat. "Tarkin, would you...?"
"Err?" The turian stuttered sharply.
"Sorry, but I don't feel like talking any more." The Paladin commented.
"Right." Tarkin responded, getting to his feet, finding it good to have authority again.
He strolled over to where the Superintendent was standing, not seeming to have properly acknowledged that he was no longer the centre of attention.
"Ahem. Could you." Tarkin said, urging the geth to move aside.
The synthetic looked at his turian comrade, then to his human and krogan, noticing that they were sitting awaiting for the turian to begin. As if analysing the contrasting positions in his metal head, the Superintendent slowly obeyed the logical reasoning of the situation, and paced mechanically over to Tarkin's former seat, settling in with some further elaboration, as if it was the first seat he had ever seen (which it probably was).
"Ahem." Tarkin cleared his throat again. "So... as I assume you all know, we're headed to Benning. Now, as far as I know, there's a big invasion planning to properly take it back but for now... a small team is going to be covertly dropped in, hitting where they're the weakest and breaking off before they can properly counteract. And that small team is us."
"No." The Paladin remarked, with obvious sarcasm to all.
"We were under the assumption you were familiar with this designation bestowed upon this quartet." The Superintendent queried the Paladin, apparently oblivious to his demeanour.
"Sarcasm, look it up." The Paladin simply retorted.
"Sarcasm: a harsh or bitter expression of derision or ir..." The geth began.
"Didn't mean it!" The Paladin was quick to express, shutting the synthetic down quickly, before turning back to Tarkin. "You were saying?"
"Yeah well." The turian replied, slightly flustered. "It's our job to go in and cause some chaos. Now the place we're headed to was, according to the last reports, fully evacuated, but there may yet be some stragglers left. The primary is to cause as much disturbance as possible without getting killed, whilst we have a secondary of locating any potential members of the local resistance. As far as we know, there's a distinct lack of Reapers forces present on Benning, but Cerberus is apparently maintaing operations in the sector. Are you... familiar with Cerberus.?"
The Paladin and Ark did not respond, for he had not asked them. Instead they noticed him speaking directly to the synthetic to their side. The Superintendent briefly stared off into space, as if deep in thought, before his singular eye returned the turian's gaze.
"We are now." He replied.
"Fine." Tarkin said. "Well theres more to be said, but we can discuss that on the shuttle."
"Let's." The Paladin remarked, bounding out of his seat before strolling out of the room to the aforementioned shuttle.
The Superintendent made a similar notion, though preceded in his movements in a much more rigid mechanical like posture.
Tarkin was about to follow when he suddenly noticed that there was a krogan in the room. Well there had been a krogan in the room the entire time, but now the presence of Ark was all the more noticeable. For such a huge figure, as was krogan custom, he had done a pretty good job of keeping quiet ever since the Superintendent had started to explain his presence.
"You've been quiet." Tarkin addressed him, picking up on the obvious.
"Wha... Oh right." Ark spoke, and Tarkin had almost completely forgotten that he had ever spoke before.
"What it is?" Tarkin asked him, picking up on his obvious concerns swiftly.
"Just thinking." The krogan explained.
"About the geth?" Tarkin made a decent guess.
"Yeah." Ark confirmed his deduction.
"Quite the story isn't it. If you can wrap your head around it." Tarkin mused to himself.
"Of course I can do that." Ark said defensively. "It's just that... well, he's one geth. One of like millions. And the last time we heard about them they were the bad guys, right."
"What are you getting at?" Tarkin asked.
"Well." Ark began. "He says they're on our side now. But he doesn't know what they're up to now. If you ask me... if the geth were to suddenly make a comeback, and they just happened to still be the bad guys. And he were to join them..."
Ark's face obtained a tone of concern. Though Tarkin had his helmet on, the krogan could sense he was thinking along the same lines.
"Well we'll just have to be careful then." The turian remarked. "Now let's get going shall we."
He marched out of the room at a slightly hurried pace, followed shortly by Ark. Soon they had arrived at a hangar, a rather small empty one that contained one shuttle with it's doors open, where the figures of the Paladin and the Superintendent were stationed. But instead of the shuttle, there attention was drawn to the relatively large assortment of weapons stored nearby.
Taking a glance inside the craft, Tarkin noted it's lack of pilot. Normally not something for concern, but he also noticed that the whole hangar about them was empty save for the assemble of four, and he also noticed that the hallways leading to this hangar had been also devoid of any life. And somehow, he imagined the answer had something to do one of his new comrades.
"It figures a geth would just happen to prefer a geth weapon." The Paladin remarked, noticing the Superintendent observing two select weapons, a sniper rifle and a shotgun, both of the synthetic's make.
"We are conflicted." The Superintendent remarked. "We are indecisive as to which weapon would suit us in the incoming conflict."
"Well don't ask me." The Paladin replied. "I'm not a geth. And I don't go for those types anyway.
The Paladin was only partially interested in the arsenal of weapons, browsing through the available selection of pistols instead of inspecting the more heavy duty gear. He already had a massive shield that he could deploy on a whim, and properly wielding it with the right amount of finesse was more than enough strain on his physical capabilities. He was not the durable Destroyer, who would carry an elephant on his back if the situation demanded it, yet nor was he the flimsy Fury, who had to rely on cheap teleportation and fast legs to stay on the field. He was… the prevailing Paladin, and that meant he could burn, freeze, electrocute, bash and slam depending on the enemy he faced.
It was a unique outlook that did not seem to be shared by his synthetic comrade. The Superintendent observed his weapons of geth make, and seemed to be viewing them with regards to how well they would suit the scenario, rather than the geth. Something resembling an obstruction of contrasting factors manifested within his metal mind, which meant that new consensus was required, yet the Paladin was hardly to one to ask for his input, for he had little experience in the use of firearms that the geth would wield.
"Urdnot Ark?" The Superintendent requested of the recently appeared krogan. "We would like to ask you for your input."
The krogan eyed the geth with some shock at his particular request. "Umm… why me?"
"Your combat paradigms are the closest to us amongst this troop." The geth explained/
"Err, fine, go ahead." Ark complied quietly.
"What would you suggest: the sniper rifle, or the shotgun?" The Superintendent requested, much more to the point then Ark imagined.
The krogan observed the pair; the sniper rifle he was unfamiliar with, being unfamiliar with them in general, but the shotgun he could lend his expertise to.
"Ah, Geth Plasma Shotgun." He remarked. "Not really a shotgun by shotgun standards. I'd go with this."
"Is that the limit of your contribution?" The Superintendent pressed him, expecting something a little more in depth.
"I'm no geth." Ark defended himself. "I don't know how you're gonna play with those things."
"Acknowledged." His synthetic comrade commented, before turning to the pair of arms
The Superintendent stared stoically at the couple, taking in the krogan's advice in addition his already conflicted consensus. Finally, to the surprise of Ark, he picked up the sniper rifle, readying it in his metal arms and supplying himself with the appropriate amount of thermal clips.
"Well why did you bother asking for my opinion then?" Ark exclaimed somewhat irritated.
"If you have no experience in geth combat." The Superintendent replied. "Then your contribution would lead to misinformation which could prove hazardous to this platform's performance in the long run."
Ark stood speechless, taken back by his comrade's retort and finding it difficult to find an appropriate comeback.
"Ark, how dare you!" The Paladin joined in, scolding the krogan with mock concern. "Trying to get a geth killed, what's the matter with you, I mean really!"
"Hey, I didn't…" The krogan began.
"When you're all finished bonding." The voice of Tarkin harkened to them from the shuttle. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
That put an end to whatever brewing argument the trio had in mind. Ark was the first to eagerly jump aboard, followed swiftly by the Paladin, who was the first to turn around and notice that the Superintendent had not heeded the turian.
"What are you waiting for?" He called to the synthetic.
"We see no roads." The Superintendent simply replied.
The Paladin groaned. "Just get on, would you?"
That put an end to whatever brewing argument the trio had in mind. Ark was the first to eagerly jump aboard, followed swiftly by the Paladin, who was the first to turn around and notice that the Superintendent had not heeded the turian.
"What are you waiting for?" He called to the synthetic.
"We see no roads." The Superintendent simply replied.
The Paladin groaned. "Just get on, would you?"
As soon as the quartet was all aboard, Tarkin would have wasted no time in settling into the pilot's seat and getting the little craft started up. Yet just as he had sat down, the Superintendent placed a three fingered hand on his armoured shoulder in a cautionary pose.
"It would be preferable if we were to pilot." He stated.
"How'd you reckon that?" Tarkin asked.
"Our presence here is the reason we do not have a suitable pilot. Our presence is detrimental to your efforts. We must as least make up for this consequence." The geth explained.
Tarkin would have countered, but that would simply be wasting time. "Fine by me. Just don't do anything sudden, okay?"
And so he relinquished the controls to the geth, and proceeded back into the passenger compartment with Ark and the Paladin. Shortly after, the shuttle rose into the air, exited the hangar, and was soon on the short trek to the relay. About time, the turian thought.
"Now we're letting him fly the shuttle." Ark remarked as Tarkin joined them, quite audibly yet discreet enough so that his voice did not reach the cockpit.
"You ever heard the expression "Never look a gift horse in the mouth."" The Paladin asked him.
"No." The krogan replied.
"I don't blame you, it's a human phrase." The Paladin remarked. "It basically means learn to stop worrying and love the free geth."
"Right." Ark replied dubiously.
"Right then." Tarkin addressed them. "Ready to hear the rest of the plan."
"Another plan." The Paladin groaned. "I know you turians love to talk strategy but this is getting a little tedious for me. Do we really need a plan?"
"It helps to be prepared." Tarkin explained, finding himself a little hurt by the Paladin's words.
"Come on." The Paladin retorted. "We're an N7 Special Ops Team, best of the best. We excel at "adapting to rapid changes in developments on the battlefield." We don't need a plan, we can just make it up as we go along."
Tarkin was silent, while Ark almost cracked a smile.
"Well at least I can." The Paladin added.
"I promise this is a good plan." Tarkin made a somewhat bold comeback.
"It helps to have a good plan." Ark said, surprising the both of them.
"Oh well go on." The Paladin said defeated.
"Trust me." Tarkin said. "This is a good plan…"
It was a good plan alright. Tarkin thought so, and everything had go pretty well. Right up to the part where he found himself on the ground, his armoured shell stunned and a great many bruises about him. Cerberus had proven more than a match, perhaps even more so then the Reapers. But as a turian, it was in his nature to adapt to any combat scenario with ease. Tarkin felt a great many noises about him, as he soon realised that he did not have the luxury to be taking a quick break from battle, for soon, whatever had pinned him to the ground would soon be descending to finish the turian off.
Raising his helmet, Tarkin could see the hulking figures of those dastardly Cerberus Guardians approaching him, prevailing shields raised. Even though he had perhaps tangled with them for maybe an hour or so, he had already grown weary of them. Those shields of metal were just like the Paladin's of energy, but unlike their N7 counterpart, these Gaurdians could move about, albeit slowly. Yet despite his low disposition towards them, it had not been the Cerberus stormtroopers that had delivered the blows that had sent him tumbling to the ground. Rather it had been another menace that preferred close combat; someone with a cloak and a sword.
And there, to his left, Tarkin heard the all too familiar sound of a cloaked opponent materialising. Fortunately for him, he still had some composure about him, and a sudden burst of activity brewed within his heart, that spread throughout the turian's form. This provided the much needed opportunity to activate his propulsion packs, leaning back and rocketing away from the oncoming Guardians and the close by Phantom, and in an instance, Tarkin had regained his position on the battlefield.
Deciding to put his experience as a Ghost Infiltrator to proper use, Tarkin activated a cloak of his own, and performed another launch to the side with his backs, not breaking his shimmering form. The Phantom was persistent however, and performed an acrobatic leap in his general direction, her sword swinging and her barriers blazing. That did her little good however, as she soon felt her barriers blown away by a current of electricity, courtesy of the now visible Tarkin, who wasted no time in following up with a furious volley of fire from his assault rifle. The Phantom performed another summersault to evade him, and attempted her cloak again, but this was one determined turian, eager for some payback for the wounds she has inflicted upon him, and soon she had crumpled to the ground, the odds of her getting up again a soundly low.
Reloading his rifle in a flash, Tarkin turned his attention to the Guardians slowly marching towards him, still protected by their immense shields. Realising that tactical cloaks and propulsion packs were useful asserts when facing slow moving metal bulwarks that had trouble turning, Tarkin once again dissolved into a shimmering mist and launched himself directly out of their line of sight, attempting to get a good look at their unprotected backs, he soon found a suitable position and subsequently opened fire. The turian managed to get one of them, his shield dropping to the ground with an assuring clank as the trooper fell lifeless, before the others turned on him, their shields now deployed, and fully facing the turian.
This was proving somewhat difficult, it seemed. It was also proving to be taking far too much time, time that Tarkin could not afford to spend wasting away a few lowly Cerberus troopers. It looked like he would have to rely on his rifle's stability and his eyesight and make the shot right through the small visor within the Guardian's shield. Darting behind cover, there was one last trick up his Omni-Tool that would assist the turian in his sharpshooter endeavour. Activating the little device, Tarkin felt an immense rush of adrenaline as energy rushed all over his armour, fortifying his shields and infusing his weapon with a little extra kick. And with that stimulating pack inside him, Tarkin activated his cloak (for that little extra punch), rose out of cover, and in a few sparse volleys from his rifle, he had managed to nail the Guardians right through their slim weak spot, sending the bunch of them straight to the floor, soundly dead as the Phantom before them.
A good victory. However, it was far too brief and there was still plenty of Cerberus left amongst the battlefield. So reloading his rifle for the second time, the Ghost Infiltrator darted off to rendezvous with his his comrades. The shuttle should have landed by now, he reckoned as he sprinted through the desolated buildings, thankfully free of Cerberus troopers, who would have likely converged to greet his comrades.
Eventually, Tarkin came upon the sight he sought. He had arrived just behind a thick cluster of Cerberus soldiers. They had made quite the fortifications, if the multiple turrets set up was any sign. Now the Ghost Infiltrator was in a good position to perform something of, what his brother Attacus would have referred to as a Havoc Strike, but his sneaky sneaky version of one. Activating his cloak, Tarkin crept up behind the nearest turret, still being attended to by an Engineer, and subsequently overloaded the sinister contraption with a strong current of electricity and activating another stimulating pack, he opened fire upon the advancing Cerberus garrison.
The turret had exploded in a sound bang of metal that was followed soon by the Engineer kicking it before they realised he was there. A turian on his own would have proven an easy target, no having the luxury to dodge like some of the many other races could. Yet this was no ordinary turian, this was a member of the Armiger Legion, which meant that, as soon as Cerberus opened fire on his position, Tarkin simply bounded to the far right, aided by his rocket propelled armour, forcing them to adjust their assault in an attempt to do some damage to the slippery turian.
Eventually, his Armiger training served him well enough that Tarkin managed to dispose of all the turrets set up, along with some token troops, before he managed to push through to a fortification his comrades had set up.
There, behind cover, was the Paladin and the Superintendent. And there, gleefully bashing what Cerberus armour he could get at, protected by a holographic projection of his own, was Ark. The krogan must have pulverised more than a few heads, for he was now in the middle of an intense rage that even Tarkin saw sense to steer clear of. Yet even heavy krogan fist was not enough to deter more infernal Guardians from getting in close with him, flanking him whilst all the time protected from his melds fury by his fists. Unfortunately for them however, all of their backs were now bare to the turian, which meant that soon, their backs were then facing the floor, shieldless and lifeless. The loss of the Guardians and the ambushing Armiger Tarkin meant that in a short while, the quartet had all but wiped the area clean of Cerberus, though as the Paladin observed with bitterness, and the Superintendent observed with indifferent logic, this had mostly been the work of Ark and Tarkin.
"Hey turian!" Ark exclaimed joyfully, now that his rage had subsided. "I don't suppose your Armiger Legion's got an opening for krogan. Because I could really do with those jetpacks"
"Keep dreaming." Tarkin retorted, though internally he could not help but express some glee at the thought of a krogan leaping across the battlefield in rocket propelled bursts.
"Well you took your time." The Paladin remarked with some bother. "Did you trip and take a nap or something."
"Something like that." Tarkin replied, swiftly dismissing him and moving on to more pressing matters. "Well we're all here. Ready to get on with the plan?"
"You and your plans." The Paladin muttered. "But yeah, let's do this."
"Right then." Tarkin replied, turning his attention to address the whole of them. "Cerberus is coming, so now we split up. N7, you and me head east. Ark, Super, you go west."
"Gotcha." Ark replied, a little begrudgingly for being stuck with the geth.
"Acknowledged." The Superintendent... acknowledged.
So, taking a few more moments to recuperate and acquire what reserve ammunition and grenades there was to acquire, the group of four split into two, turian and human going one side, krogan and geth the other.
Ark kept some distance from the synthetic as they marched, and though he could not be sure of it, he reckoned the Superintendent was bestowing him the same courtesy. All around them, buildings rose high into the metropolis skyline, yet despite being in the midst of what was now a warzone, not a string of activity stirred. Venturing off the streets and delving into the buildings, it was more or less the same scenario. They had their objective; search for survivors, kill what Cerberus they found, yet since there were no signs of the latter, they were restricted to the latter. Though finding surviving humans in an already evacuated city occupied by Cerberus seemed like an all too redundant task, and soon, they found an indicator of that.
A small residence, not a military outpost, but someone's home. Cerberus would have had no interest in such a place, it would have likely slipped under their radar as they occupied it. Yet the krogan and geth soon came upon a room that apparently begged to differ. What seemed to be the living area, with sofas and chairs, which happened to be occupied by the corpses of humans.
A sad thing, Ark briefly mused to himself. Though not as sad as it properly should have been, for a krogan. If he was searching the residence of a krogan and found bodies there, it would have had a much more profound impact. If he was searching the residence of asari, and found blue bodies, he most likely would have expressed sadness at the loss of their beauty. If he was searching the residence of salarians or turians, and found bodies there, he would have been kind of sad, just a little. But humans... well they had had it rough.
The Superintendent on the other hand, seemed disinterested in the human cadavers lying in their awkward positions. Rather, his attention was drawn towards, of all things, a tree, standing silent at a far end of the room. Ark noticed the geth's glare, and was too bemused by the sight of a tree, for that was a rare thing to see on his homeworld. Yet, this tree did not seem like how a proper tree should look; lights were hung around it, their illuminations still dancing around despite their surroundings. And at the foot, lay several objects, indiscernible due to them being... wrapped up in paper. Ark was confused, was this how trees were generally treated on Earth? And why was the Superintendent so interested in this odd display.
"What's the meaning of that, then?" Ark questioned the synthetic.
The Superintendent's singular flashlight head turned to face the krogan. There was something unusually solemn about it.
"A human custom." He explained. "This time period correlates to Earth's calendar. It is a time of celebration amongst human communities... there are gestures of goodwill and gifts are shared amongst close ones."
"What's it called?" Ark asked.
"Christmas." The Superintendent explained, the metal voice somewhat downbeat, as if in reflection.
"Huh. Strange." Ark mused. "Well, there's nothing here. Let's go."
The krogan made the motion to leave the room, the fruitlessness of their search offering no incentive to stay. Yet as he reached the exit, turning back he noticed that the Superintendent had instead moved closer to the decorative tree, unmoving, eye fixed on the wrapped up items piled at the bottom.
"Geth?" Ark called back, groaning slightly in impatience. "Superintendent?"
The geth snapped out of his trance, turning to look at the krogan, and noticing that he was now far from him, caught up to him in a swift bound.
As soon as the duo had stepped out of the building, a very different scene awaited them. Though there was still a persistent silence, a very faint mechanical hum could heard nearby. Sensing that something very challenging was headed their way, Ark was about to suggest to the Superintendent that they should locate to a preferable ambush point, but as he turned, he found the geth's single eye turning a deep red, fixated on the wall to their left.
"What is it?" He asked with concern.
"There is a large mechanical construct on the opposite side of this wall." The Superintendent informed him indifferently.
Ark would have asked him to elaborate, but at that instance the wall in question had exploded in a fiery haze as a gargantuan mech of Cerberus design emerged from the rubble and smoke.
The krogan did not need any further prompting to come to the conclusion that this metal monster might prove a little too much for him. Instantly activating his Omni-Tool and covering himself in his protective holographic armour, Ark ran for cover as much as his slow krogan form would allow. Now in a suitable position Ark turned to contend with the unfamiliar foe, and found his cover barraged by a volley of rockets from the mech. Still, nothing he could not adapt to, and so readied a handful of grenades in his gauntlet. Noticing the breaks in the mech's volley, he rose from cover and threw them with decent krogan accuracy, hitting the giant enemy right in the middle of it's tough canopy, and causing it to stagger.
Still, Ark did not feel too confident in engaging the mech one-on-one. He may have been a hardened krogan veteran with more than a lifetime of experience dealing with many a foe across a wide variety of battlefields and weapons... but those metal claws looked tough.
The metal claws of the mech reared and shot off another volley of powerful slugs in the krogan's direction. It might have actually been able to do some damage, for it was soon closing in on Ark's position, who did not have a plentiful amount of grenades to contend with this beast. But in it's assault, it had neglected to pay attention to the other contender on the battlefield, and it payed for that when he felt an immensely powerful projectile from a geth sniper rifle drill right into it's armoured hull.
Yet as soon as it had recovered, the Cerberus swivelled on the spot to face the attacking geth, and immediately sent a rocket his way. Unlike the heavily armoured Ark, the Superintendent was not built nearly as much to withstand such a punishment, but managed to hop out of the way of the rocket and avoided the subsequent explosion. The mech was hardly finished however, as it promptly followed up with a barrage of energy projectiles from it's faster firing arm cannon. The Superintendent did his best to relocate in order to deliver another lethal shot from his rifle, but unlike before that was now proving quite the challenge now that the mech was descending upon him.
And soon enough, the geth slipped up and felt a powerful barrage hit his vulnerable figure. He staggered, which soon led to a tumble to the ground, which might have proved able to recover from, but the Superintendent was caught again by another round from the mech, dropping his shields and pining him to the ground. He nevertheless mustered the energy to slide across the floor on all fours to the relative safety of cover. The giant mech persisted however, but found itself another foe in the now charging Ark, who threw another fistful of grenades at the metal beast, causing it to predictably turn to face the new foe, but that brief moment of pause was all the Superintendent needed to rise to face it, aim his rifle, and with exceptional precision, hit it right on the important looking core on it's back. That set off a chain reaction that shock the giant rigorously, before it promptly exploded in a haze of metal and smoke.
Standing triumphant over the wreck, Ark punched his fists together in a gesture of toughness, his synthetic comrade soon joining him.
"Not bad." The krogan mused.
"We would likely not have been able to achieve the same results... with the shotgun." The geth reflected.
Ark was just about to counter him, but at moment, he felt a hot projectile, likely of biotic origin, fly past his shoulder and hit the Superintendent square in his frame, causing him to reel back. Turning to investigate the source, the krogan saw two Phantoms emerge from the ruin that the giant mech had made, their swords drawn and their palms outstretched.
"Oh, now you're asking for it." He uttered with silent fury.
Bellowing as best as his display of lungs would allow him, Ark charged straight at the duo of fatales. The first one to feel the brunt of his attack was sent flying, out of the fight for a precious period that allowed him freedom with her partner. This Phantom did not attempt to flank him acrobatically with her flexible form, but rather slowly circled around him, her sword drawn menacingly. Ark hardly in the mood to entertain this strange way of combat foreplay, and simply charged at her with all his best. The Phantom hopped to the side but was caught nonetheless, and staggered ever so briefly, still maintaining her feet firmly on the ground. Ark simply followed up by drawing in close, and clasping his mighty armoured fists around the flimsy hand that held the blade, and with all his might, he yanked a mighty yank.
The Phantom was now sent to the ground for good this time. The sword came free, and Ark tossed it aside, before he descended on his lying foe, raising his boot and slamming it into her face with the same brute strength as his charge had been. A rather sickening crunch of flesh mixed in with metal greeted him, yet to the krogan, it only served to add to his growing rage. Now, he turned to where to the other Phantom had been, but as he expected, found himself staring at nothing. Then suddenly, he heard the distinct cackle as she materialised close by, and made a sharp turn to face her, but found her not engaging him, but rather facing the much more vulnerable Superintendent.
Ark let out another rage filled roar, and charged at the Phantom, but found her to be the multi-tasking fiend, as she raised her palm and blasted him with another one of those indeterminable and infernal projectiles that promptly drained his shields all in one go. Now he actually felt staggered himself, a strange first for him that gave the Phantom time to engage the Superintendent, who robust synthetic form and heavy rifle rendered him at an disadvantage against her sword. One swift slash stunned the geth, doing quite a number on his shields that withheld nonetheless, the Phantom simply followed up with another slash, this time sending the Superintendent crashing to the floor.
Briefly diverting her attention from the geth, the Phantom pelted Ark with another round from the cannon on her arm. Now for the first time, the krogan felt it dig right though his armour and cut into his hide. Another one of those and he could lose a heart, yet he could not muster the required energy to launch himself off the ground to get to her in time. Looking up with heavy panting, he saw the Phantom turn back to the Superintendent, who seemed to be in a similar state, pinned to the ground on all fours, his singular eye looked up to face his assailant, who was now ready to bring her blade down and deliver a finishing blow. Ark could not get there in time, and neither could the Superintendent bring his rifle to meet the rapidly closing blade. It did not look good.
Yet at that moment, a sudden process of thought entered geth's collective consensus. Right as the blade was a good foot away, he raised his hands with remarkable dexterity, and slammed down on the floor beneath him. In an instant, the Superintendent's figure was hidden beneath a bright web of green and blue energy that completely encased him. This strange cocoon of energy pulsated and shot off a projectile that hit the towering Phantom, who disintegrated to a green glow of goo the moment it hit her.
Now that the threat had been dealt with, the pulsating energy around the Superintendent dissolved in an instant, the geth rising to his feet to briefly observe his handiwork, before attending to the krogan, who was struck a little speechless.
"What the... was that?" He uttered, completely mystified by the geth's strange display.
"A contingency." The Superintendent informed him, indifferent to his state of bewilderment. "Are you wounded, Urdnot Ark?"
The krogan got to his feet. "I'm alright. Not sure if I'm hallucinating or something, but I'll live."
The Superintendent allowed Ark some time to recuperate after their rather enduring skirmish with the Phantoms and giant mech, while he simply awaited patiently. Being of synthetic stock, the geth felt no organic reactions to their battle, and considered himself fully rejuvenated the moment his shields had returned to maximum. In no time at all, the krogan had recovered and they were off, intending to regroup with their turian and human comrades.
Speaking of them...
"You have any family, Paladin?" Tarkin asked innocently enough as the lack of any encounters with Cerberus afforded him the luxury.
"Excuse me?" The Paladin asked in return.
"You know what family means, don't you?" Tarkin explained.
"Oh right." The Paladin remarked, before coming up with an appropriate counter. "Well, you know what I think? I think the only reason you would bother to ask something that would be if you had any family of your own, and you wanted to see how everyone else is doing."
"Okay." Tarkin replied slowly. "Good guess there."
"So?" The Paladin continued.
"So what?" Tarkin asked.
"So... got any family?" The Paladin stated irritatingly.
"Oh, right." Tarkin remarked. "Two brothers."
"Civilians?" The Paladin inquired.
"No, they're Armiger, just like me." Tarkin was quick to clarify.
"Wonderful, a whole bunch of flying turians." The Paladin muttered, slightly dreading the thought of so many turians with so many propulsion packs.
"How about you?" Tarkin questioned.
"How about me what?" The Paladin repeated.
"How about you... family." Tarkin elaborated.
"Oh... right." The Paladin said quietly, his tone becoming slightly brooding. "Yeah, I have family."
"Have, as in... still alive." Tarkin dared to probe further.
"Yeah, still alive." The Paladin sighed bitterly to himself.
"Still alive... in peril." Tarkin pressed on, an unusual eagerness about him.
"No no, all right." The Paladin indulged him. "Just... not on good terms right now."
"Oh, sorry." Tarkin quickly replied, though thinking he may have been a little late.
"A daughter." The Paladin said to himself, almost forgetting he was having a conversation. "It's been a while."
"Don't you think now's the time to... you know." Tarkin suggested.
"You sound like the Slayer." The Paladin mused bitterly.
"Who?" Tarkin asked.
"Nothing, let's move on." The Paladin quickly said, noticing how slow they were moving and picking up the pace.
Tarkin struggled to keep up with the Paladin, who seemed keen on finding Cerberus to take his mind off his happy reminiscence. Eventually, they stubbled upon an appropriate sight, a large cluster of Cerberus consisting of regular Troopers, Guardians and Engineers. The duo found themselves an optimal opportunity to swiftly reduce this assortment to a pulverised heap of corpses, but first they needed a good plan to execute this motion. And good plans seemed to be something of a specialty to Tarkin.
"Ready to put that shield to good use while I get into position?" He asked the Paladin as they tailed the group discreetly from behind.
"Just be quick about it, this thing won't last forever." The Paladin cautiously informed him, getting into position.
Cloaking, Tarkin moved up with the troops, his pulse racing just a bit as he came wiring inches of them. The Paladin positioned himself directly behind the marching band, and aiming his pistol (the appropriately named Paladin), shot one of the turret backpacks on one of the Engineer, following it up with a blast of intense heat that incinerated the soldier and alerting them to his presence.
Just like clockwork, Cerberus reacted as he imagined they would. The troopers started firing their weapons, some pacing up whilst others moved for cover, the Engineers moved back, likely to place their turrets, and the Guardians began their slow march up to the Paladin, their nigh impenetrable shields held firm. The Paladin anticipated this, however, and had immediately deployed his own shield, saving himself from the returning barrage of fire. The hail relented upon his Omni-Shield, but the Paladin maintained a firm grip. Still, his contraption would not hold out forever, demanding that his turian comrade make haste.
Tarkin manoeuvred around the cluster until they all had their backs Guardians were the first to go, opening fire in short controlled burst that soon sent them and their shields to the ground. Next up were the Engineers, overloading their turrets with his electric energy and following up with his assault rifle, allowing the Paladin the time to retract his Omni-Shield and deal with the remaining troopers who proved unmatched against their combined efforts.
"A little easier then I thought." The Paladin mused to himself, surveying their combined destruction.
"That's teamwork for you." Tarkin remarked.
"And your excellent plans." The Paladin retorted with mock appraisal.
"Yeah well…" Tarkin began, before a far off sound made him pause.
Off in the distance, they could make out the sounds of conflict, particularly the sounds of explosive weaponry going off. The duo were just about to make a dash for the source before, to their surprise, the Superintendent came dashing around a corner, electric sparks cackling about him and the flashlight eye ablaze in a red light.
"What is it? Where's Ark?" Tarkin was quick to question the fleeing geth.
"Ark? Ark… Oh, Ark?" The Superintendent replied somewhat forgetfully, before the krogan in question came dashing round the corner after him, a little more clumsily, which may have been due to the blade of a Phantom digging into his armoured plating.
"Not this way." He yelled to his comrades, taking a moment to snap the intruding sword from his armour.
The krogan and the geth darted straight past the human and turian, who decided to wait and see what kind of threat was coming their way. They soon found out, as a couple of troopers came into their line of sight. These they dispatched with ease, but it was the pair of giant mechs (which the Paladin understood to be Atlases) followed in their wake, which were soon joined by another pair of Atlases, creating a thick blockade that the Paladin felt reluctant to deploy his shield in front of and see if it would hold. So the duo retreated, following Ark and the Superintendent until they were a good distance away from the cluster of monstrous mechs.
"Now what?" Ark asked in despair.
"I think we've overstayed our welcome." The Paladin remarked. "To the shuttle!"
And so they scarpered across the barren metropolis to where their shuttle awaited, each going at varying speeds. Tarkin had his propulsion packs that had more than compensated for the turian lack of mobility, but since he had no idea as to where their shuttle lay exactly, he was forced to follow the Paladin, who may have had the most innate agility out of all of them, being of tough human stock. The Superintendent followed at a somewhat stiff pace, his synthetic form facing trouble adjusting to the tight corners they manoeuvred around, but he was still in a better position than Ark, who was bringing up the rear attempting to keep pace as much as his cumbersome krogan form would allow. Soon they came upon the little vehicle that awaited them, grateful that it had remained elusive of Cerberus. Clambering aboard, Tarkin decided to take charge of the craft and wasted no time in taking it to the skies
"Well that was a complete waste of time, or what." The Paladin bitterly remarked, pacing about the craft after they had properly recovered.
"What?" Ark asked in confusion.
"What exactly did we accomplish down there?" The Paladin retorted. "Didn't find a soul except from Cerberus and we hardly did a number on them."
"Well, we'll just have to try harder next time." Ark responded optimistically, finding the Paladin's dismissal of their efforts off-putting.
Avoiding any potential argument with the krogan, the Paladin moved over to the lighter mannered Superintendent, finding the geth hunched in the corner with his back to the group.
"What've you got there, Super?" He inquired innocently enough, noticing him examining something in his hands.
The geth briefly turned his eye to address the Paladin, quickly removing the item from the human's view. "It is nothing…"
"It's obviously something." The Paladin was quick to retort, closing in to get a better look at what the Superintendent was withholding from him.
Eventually, the geth saw that he could not so easily dismiss the Paladin, and carefully presented to him the object in his hands. To him, it was something the geth had recovered from the battlefield without carefully consolidating why he had done so, but to the Paladin, it was something that he, as a human could easily identify.
"A present." He observed. "A Christmas present."
Ark leaned forwards, noticing that the Superintendent held within his hands one of the wrapped items from the decorative tree they had passed by earlier.
"Why did you take one of those?" The krogan asked, not understanding the reasoning behind this unusual act for a logic abiding geth.
"We… do not know." The Superintendent replied stoically. "There… was no one to open it."
"Are you going to open it?" The Paladin asked curiously.
The Superintendent observed the parcel within his grasp. "We do not know…"
So, what did you think of that then. I thought that was pretty full of lots of interactions between the characters, a lot more then previous chapters. The only thing that's a little off to me is that the Paladin's behaviour doesn't quite match how he acts like in previous chapters. I might have to rewrite him a little. But Tarkin and the Superintendent, oh, they are me at my best.
Now for the next chapter (not the last), it's going to have a humourous side to it, as it will take place inside the proper 11 rounds of a multiplayer match. That's all I've got to say because I don't want to make this too long of an author's note, so see you next time.
