Chapter 7 - Knee Deep in the Dead
The Panera fell out of FTL transit exactly twenty-six minutes later. Beforehand, Darius hauled the mortar turrets below to the back ramp, where the deployment catapults would do the remainder of the work to drop them on the battlefield. Burke had emerged from the bathroom earlier, Brooklyn immediately spotting his dilated pupils and more rapid motor functions she passed him by on their way to the pilot's seat.
The duo of turian frigates basked in space just out of reach of Sargonis' atmosphere, one of them clearly activating its thrusters in order to whip around and claim a head start in case the Panera happened to be a bogey.
"Unidentified fighter, this is Commander Waldorn of the Turian Armada, please confirm your identity or you will be fired upon."
Brooklyn immediately began punching the digits of the verification codes into the communications console, while Darius and Burke lingered in the two passenger's seats, both assembling their weapons. "Yep, that's my armada." Darius piped. "If they aren't thinking with their oversized and overpowered mass accelerator cannons, they're acting directly on their behalf."
The clearance codes were uploaded, and Brooklyn had the chance to marvel at the dark bluish glow of the night cycle half of Sargonis, the sun directly on the horizon and pouring dawn near their destination.
"Clearance codes verified, Panera. Good luck, and for the love of whatever God that you believe in, be careful down there."
"Oh how nice that he's concerned about us." Burke mocked in a sing-song voice, cocking his Striker pistol, and as Brooklyn began their descent into the planet's cold atmosphere.
"Doubt it. I'd guess he just doesn't want the surviving colonists to get evaporated by an exploding neutron bomb." Brooklyn replied.
"You know your channel is still open, Panera, and I can hear you?"
"Yes, we know." Brooklyn tongue and cheekily reply just before she closed the line. The sound of the turian commander's groan was audible just for a split second before the frequency was shut.
"Pretty smooth, Brook. That was like sticking your hand in the fireplace and cooling it off in boiling water." Burke leaned over and nudged her, where she responded immediately with a repugnant hand gesture.
The sky was absolutely clear when the Panera touched down, a refreshing departure from the terrorizing weather they had a habit of venturing into. No close observation was needed to see that there were quite a few establishments still engulfed in flames, or spewing smoke. There were only two buildings in the city that could be classified as skyscrapers, both of them riddled with holes, their windowed frames shattered. Much of the damage, particularly the nearest skyscraper, looked like it could have only been caused by a large ship or frigate, which did not help assuage the constant suspicion.
Brooklyn had dropped her two associates at the southeastern edge of town, where the unfriendly energy signature was the strongest, and the bomb was possibly located. They filed out and into the street in between two large apartment complexes before the Panera lifted off further up, and ascended further atop. The two mercenaries checked their perimeters and made sure they weren't in the dead center of someone's crosshairs. The street had the stench of the dead that littered it, most of them scorched or dismembered. The wind howled and the structures creaked and burned, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Each of their weapons was fitted with a motion detector that showed in small holographic interfaces.
Their ear-pieces crackled. "You two oughta know, bomb is inside a large conveyor vessel that touched down to the northwest. There's also this warehouse or factory of some sort about a third of a mile north of you that's displaying a ton of life signs. Listen, I'm seeing some folks moving up the street toward it, as well as a single combat vehicle."
"Turians?" Burke responded, holding his pistol outward, taking the lead as they ran along the street in the gutter, closely huddling toward abandoned skycars and ground vehicles for cover.
"I don't know, they're awfully far awa- oh, SHIT-"
Both looked up, seeing the Panera in the near distance as it swerved in boomerang movements, a missile following on her tail. Countermeasure flares were shot out of the stern, leading the missile toward the ground, where it detonated with a rumbling boom kilometers away to the west.
"Brook! You alright?" Burke shouted with one hand on his earpiece.
"Screw this, I'm not getting anywhere near there until you rub those bastards out." Brooklyn yanked the Panera around halfway between her cohorts and the opposing party, the back ramp dropping out and a turret plummeting on top of one of the apartment buildings, where the automated mechanics deployed itself. The Panera then whisked off and burst toward the south, its engines shrieking overhead.
"Roger that, Panera. We'll let you know when the way is clear." Darius tapped his earpiece, leading the way. "Who could they be?"
"Pray that it's not batarian terrorists, or our bonus is probably forfeit." Burke had replied, checking the disc grenades along his belt. "We can probably cut through that apartment over there."
"Probably the safest stance, considering the climate." Darius added, crossing the street warily.
The interior of the apartment building was near sightless and rumbling with the wind entering through its occasional gaping hole. Due to the lack of power, the interior hallway they were in held a surfeit of darkness, requiring the aid of torches from their omni-tools. The lodging was somewhat bargain, mostly bland metal interior with carpeted floors and such. Archetypically, turians were never known to have a keen sense of style.
"Why, oh why did you bring your trench coat and not your armor?" Darius pondered in statement, checking open apartment doors and every corner possible.
"To be honest I didn't think we'd be running into goons with rocket launchers and armored vehicles." Burke replied. His Tornado shotgun was drawn, rather than his striker pistol, holding the small but bulky weapon with one hand as his left sported the omni tool flashlight. "But at least I brought my shield unit."
"And it's not like you to prepare for the worst? Don't you remember Akeron V?" Darius chuckled, covering his the back with his hybrid rifle.
"Now that was a mission for the ages." Burke recollected with a smirk. "More like a fiasco for the ages, am I right?"
Darius' motion tracker flashed a single reading, the turian's right hand releasing itself from the grip as he held his hand to his side, just away from his head, signaling a halt.
A flashlight and footsteps came out of one of the open apartment buildings, a tall and intimidating figure emerging with a backpack over his shoulders. It was a turian, and a very tall and broad shouldered one too.
"Hold it." Burke whispered loudly, shining the flashlight on him and slowly walking up to the massive turian and sticking the shotgun to his ear. The turian sighed, holding his arms up as the human mercenary confiscated the pistol that was at his belt.
"Take your backpack off." Burke demanded again. "Slowly."
"It's full of water bottles." The turian's voice was more higher in pitch than either of them expected.
"I said remove it." Burke demanded once again.
Gingerly, the turian dropped the backpack off his shoulders, Burke catching it with one hand and openening it, shining the flashlight into its interior. It was indeed, chock full of bottled water and a few snacks.
"Ah, shit." Darius walked closer to his fellow turian, shining his light on his striped purple suit, seeing several digits upon his back. "This asshole's an escaped convict, Burke."
Burke's mustache inched together close as his face contorted into a suspicious scowl. He dropped the backpack on the ground and reached for his shotgun yet again. "You with those hooligans that are marching up north?"
"You mean those uptight suckers in piss yellow armor?" The turian asked, his hands still up. "No."
"Yellow armor?" Burke repeated.
"Eclipse?" Darius spoke aloud.
"Dunno, they're mostly asari and humans. Think I saw a few salarians with them, too." The convict explained.
Burke turned away from the convict toward Darius. "What the fuck are the Eclipse mercs doing here Darius?"
"What's your name, prisoner?" Darius questioned again. "Do you know what happened here? What were your charges?"
It occurred to Darius that he hadn't been watching the prisoner's hands, as they somehow got a hold of the pistol that was confiscated from him. With great strength, Burke was pistol whipped in the gut and pushed into the middle of the hallway, pulling him backward just a little and using him as a human shield.
"My name's Avin Pardo. I've been accused of many things, and I suppose you can say pickpocketing is one of them." The turian laughed heartily, reaching over and picking up his backpack. "I think it's time I was on my way, so if you gentlemen would excuse me."
A few seconds later, Pardo disappeared into the darkness, Darius running over to his comrade and watching his back.
"That son of a-" Burke checked his belt. Everything beside the confiscated pistol was still on his belt, nothing else stolen.
"Okay, that was bad vigilance for both of us on our part. I'm as guilty as you were on that. The guy's obviously long gone." Darius called out from beyond the hallway, confirming that Avin was no longer in the building.
"Did you see the size of that crazy bastard, he must have been like, seven and a half feet tall?" Burke followed him, his tornado shotgun once again drawn.
"Yeah, he was almost as big as a krogan. And believe me when I say this, but I've seen a lot of tall turians… but that guy…"
The light poured in ahead, and they came upon the back of the apartment building, most of it shot out or destroyed. Clearly, the could see that directly ahead, no more than a few meters away, was the column of soldiers from before, indeed Eclipse Mercenaries.
They both quickly snuck past their sight, crouching under the blown out windows of the apartment lobby. The rumbling of a slow armored vehicle was evident as Burke checked his omni tool, tapping into the frequency of the mortar turret that was set on top of the building beside the one they were in.
"Yeah, the firing path is clear. No obstructions." Burke whispered aloud.
"Movement counts around ten, no eleven of them." Darius turned his head toward Burke. "What do you think… Eclipse mercs aren't the most reasonable of people, and for all we know they actually could be behind this."
Burke nodded as he sat under the windowsill. The Eclipse mercs were close enough to them to where they could clearly hear them talking about their birthdays. "Plus they'll still be around if we don't ice them now." He grasped one of his grenades, the high explosive fitted one and nudged his squad mate. "Go over a few windows, I'll take out the vehicle and unleash mortary hell on 'em, you gun the rest of them down."
Darius' mandibles twitched in anticipation. "Give 'em hell, Burkey boy."
"The hell did I tell you about calling me that?" Burke groaned, Darius already gone and moving gingerly to the far side of the lobby.
Burke peeked over the sill, using his omni tool motion tracker to mark their movements. He tossed the disc grenade into the middle of the street near where the vehicle was rolling up, then ducked back. If any infantry saw this, they were not reacting momentarily. He then began tapping into his omni tool.
In a few seconds, the mine under the armored vehicle detonated, a mortar round springing from the sky and impacting into the column of Eclipse infantry. Darius and Burke popped up from cover, and prepared to unleash hell.
