Omega's Child

(Khentu Emrys)

Location: Upper Fumi District, Omega

Garm's hopes of a surprise attack on Afterlife had failed, with his attack fragmenting into dozens of smaller battles on multiple levels of Omega, like the one at our little compound on Doru. In the two weeks since the Blood Pack ship had crashed into our level, Aria T'Loak's usual hands-off approach to the gangs of Omega had become a thing of the past. The word had come, first by runners, then by Omni-Audio transfer, then by a full-on video broadcast of the Black Queen's simple message:

Fall in line, or die a nightmarish death.

Mentu Emrys, Pharaoh of the Blood Arrows, had wasted no time in sending a message to Afterlife informing Aria of his obeisance. However, not all leaders had followed his example. The Blood Pack was one of the oldest mercenary organizations in the galaxy, dating all the way back to the end of the Krogan Rebellions. In that time, they had inspired or directly sponsored dozens of gangs, both on Omega and elsewhere in the Terminus. These had declared for Ganar Yulaz, self-proclaimed 'God-Emperor of the Krogan', and had launched attacks in conjunction with their Krogan brothers.

It was against these that the Blood Arrows had been fighting. In Omega's signature sense of irony, we had been fighting alongside teams from the White Tigers, the Talons, and even the Brotherhood of the Fallen. The question of who controlled the territory we were now securing had been answered in a single sentence: "It all belongs to Aria."

I grinned at the simple genius of it: Aria would have control of huge tracts of recently-vacated territory, ready to be gifted to her favorites when the sands cleared. And so she had the largest gangs on the station, who on any other day would be near-rivals, fawning at her feet to be those favorites.

"Khentu?"

"Health to you, Haty-a," I saluted the hologram with mock solemnity. My half-brother had been promoted by Father to fill his prior role of leading the Arrows of Knesset. Which technically put him in the completely irritating position of being my boss, an office which my brother wasted no opportunity to relish.

"Alright, alright," he rolled his eyes. "Are you in position?"

"We're here, but there is still no sign of anybody else showing up," I stated, looking around to make sure. "Who are we supposed to be meeting up with today?"

"The Talons," Tol answered, "And a group of freelancers… I don't have a name in front of me.

"Supposed to be a Batarian lord of some sort leading them," Abdul's voice cut in on the call. Father had chosen to keep Abdul in the role as his second-in-command, to help with the transition, and to further the ruse of him accepting the rank of Pharaoh unwillingly.

"Great," I groaned. "Just we need: some off-station asshole showing up and expecting to be in charge."

"Now, now," Abdul chided, and for a moment a bit of his old joviality bled into his tone. "Let's be on our best behavior, children."

"I am always on my best behavior," I retorted.

"Gods, the saddest part of that sentence is the fact that that is nearly true," Ptolemy groaned. "Just… try not to start another war, will you? One is quite enough for us."

"And… stay safe," Abdul added quickly. "I've… we've lost enough in this war already."

I felt a twinge of guilt as the connection ended. For the brothers' differences, Abdul had always gone out of his way to develop a relationship with Ptolemy and I, even as kids. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks to gods I didn't believe in that we hadn't had to kill him. Which, as soon as I thought it, seemed like a pretty fucked-up prayer considering what we'd already done.

Or at least what Father had done.

"Medjay," Laila stated, rising from where she had been sitting. "Here they come."

I looked up to see three crawlers bearing Talon icons driving down the long and narrow street towards our location.

"Fucking finally," I answered. "And knock it off with that Egyptian title crap. We're already weird enough to the other gangs on this station."

"You got it… boss," Laila replied, with what I was pretty sure was the turian version of a shit-eating grin.

"Let's get to it," I stated, with the rest of the party. "Another Crit, another Chit."

The first vehicle came to a screeching stop, worn-down brakes squealing as they attempted to calm the overworked engine. The Talons that exited via the rear ramp looked tired and worn down, and several openly wore Med-patches. The female turian leading them looked like she was still riding a stim-high. But everyone still gripped weapons nervously as our two parties drew close.

"Flash."

"Thunder," I gave the call-sign identifying that we were all on the same side, upon which the groups relaxed, if only slightly.

"You the Blood Arrows?" the Talon lieutenant asked, looking at the small group in front of her and casting her eyes towards potential hiding locations for others.

"In the flesh," I nodded, and placed a hand on my chest. "Khentu Emrys."

"Kyatia." the turian answered. "I appreciate the help."

"Hey," I shrugged. "Aria says 'jump,' we ask how high. Wasn't a third group going to be joining us?"

"They'll be along," she nodded. "Kean isn't one to turn down a fight."

"Cieran Kean?" Soji asked incredulously. "The human Reyja'krem?"

"The what-now?" I asked. "I thought he was a Batarian lord."

"Close," nodded Kyatia. "He's human, but it's a batarian title… means 'Exile,' I think?" she nodded towards Soji, who shrugged and nodded in a 'close-enough' gesture.

"Any idea on their numbers?" I asked.

"I think it's just the three of them," she replied, "But one is a Trophy-Taker, and she is worth a dozen local fighters."

Laila and I shared a look, but didn't comment further. A batarian with a trophy taker companion… I doubted there were two on this station.

"He carry a cane?" I asked. "And she has a fondness for knives?"

"You know them?"

"Seen their work," I shrugged. "So let's…"

"Ma'am," one of the Talons spoke up. "Here they come."

Sure enough, the low whine of an aircar could now be heard, and an Eclipse-marked vehicle set down just behind the crawlers. A familiar set of black armor exited the vehicle, with heavy cane in hand. The Batarian-armored figure was followed by a female Batarian, and the likewise-familiar figure of a Quarian Trophy-Taker.

Soji ul Dursa drew himself up tall, instantly holstering his SMG and making a batarian gesture of respect, a gesture that Laila copied.

"Reyja'krem," Soji stated, and followed it with a batarian phrase that I couldn't really follow. Something about one of the Pillars, I thought. The Exile's head went to the right, but otherwise made no answer.

"Kean," Kyatia nodded in greeting. "These are the Blood Arrows. They'll be supporting us as well today."

"A profitable day to you," I said in my best Batarian. Based upon all batarians present stiffening, and the hurried Batarian apology from Laila, my best was still rusty. The human cocked his head to the left and said something in another language that I didn't understand, to which Laila responded.

"What he'd say?" I asked.

"That your Batarian is terrible," Laila answered in a low voice, to which I shrugged. I guess the thought doesn't always count.

"Kyatia," the Exile said, switching to a sharply accented Thessian, "Do we have any more intel on the target?"

The turian also nodded respectfully, and brought up an map of this area of Omega.

"A group called the Paragons of Fumi," she explained. "Their leader has sided with Garm, and is helping funnel Blood Pack up from Kima via the tunnels in his district. We go in and secure the tunnels, killing as many of the bare-faced assholes as possible."

Laila shifted slightly at the turian insult, but made no answer. I opted to follow her lead.

"I like it," I nodded. "Simple, easy to remember."

The quarian made a series of typing gestures, to which the Exile leaned forward to read the characters that appeared on her Omni-Tool.

"Any idea on numbers?" he asked. "Equipment? Tactics?"

Mute Quarian... not something you saw every day, and I could see Laila start slightly in response to the gesture for some reason, her eyes going wide in recognition.

"Our intel is spotty at best," Kyatia stated honestly, "but before the Attack, they only had a few dozen fighters total, mostly batarians. Moderately well-equipped, for Omega, but with standard gang-land tactics."

"We should also expect to run into Krogan or vorcha support," Kean cut in. "If this is where Garm's still getting people up and down, he'll have reinforced them."

"Your people look worn out," I told Kyatia. "My people are… mostly fresh. Especially our Asari, but she's that way all the time."

My internal radio clicked twice, Wasilla communicating her silent opinion of my joke from her sniper's point. Everyone's deadpan stares at me also serve to give every else's opinion, as well.

"If you let us, we'll take point," I continued undaunted. "Hold your people in reserve and support."

"That… would be appreciated," she admitted. "Do you have a plan?"

Laila and Soji managed to stifle snorts of derision at the innocent inquiry, but only just.

"This location here," I answered, bringing up a close view of the Paragons' zone. "Looks like a hardware store? We're gonna rob it."

Puzzled looks came across everyone's faces, or at least, those who weren't wearing helmets.

"We're not in Arrow armor or insignias," I explained further. "The Paragons will think we're just another group of assholes trying to take advantage of this sand-stormed chaos. So when they send what they think will be enough guns to deal with us…"

"We ambush them from here, here and here," Kean answered, highlighting three locations on the map. "Works for me."

Kyatia looked the image over, and then gave a curt nod. "Looks good enough," she shrugged. "We'll be there."

"Then let's go," I grinned, spinning down my Omni-Tool. "We're burning daylight, after all."

I spun on my heel, not bothering to look and see if the others were joining me in chuckling at my hilarious use of the batarian phrase.

Broken Vessel

(Laila Adonis)

Location: Upper Fumi District, Omega Station.

"Forgive him, Reyja'krem," Soji bowed his head respectfully as Khen walked away chuckling, "He means nothing but respect in his butchering of our noble tongue."

"Is he... always like this?" the female batarian asked me. "This... happy?"

"Usually worse," I answered. "Today is a serious day, believe it or not."

"Pillars, shoot me now," the Reyja'krem muttered, and the female punched him in the shoulder.

"Don't give Voya ideas!" she hissed.

That was when the quarian and I looked at each other's faces for the first time... or rather, my face to her armored helmet.

"Voya'Chi vas Xentha," I stated in greeting, nodding slightly. The quarian cocked her head slightly, and then a hand went to her knife hilt.

"Voya?" Kean asked, looking from her to me. "Am I missing something?"

"We were cellmates," I stated slowly. "In Shith's."

That earned me a slight head-tilt to the right in respect. "Ah. Damn. He's dead, agonizingly slow if that makes you feel any better."

"The fact that the she is armed and standing here led me to believe that," I nodded. "But yes… I am glad to know that shit-stain is gone to the ancestors' judgement."

"Is that your master, then?" the female asked, nodding at Khentu. "Forgive me… I didn't see a collar."

"He was," I explained. "His father gave me to him as a… present. But he's since freed me, as soon as he was able," I added quickly, as the quarian's body language tensed.

"And you're still working for him?" the female batarian continued, even more confused.

"It's… complicated," I stated after a moment, "Miss…?"

"Rane," she introduced herself, "Rane'li ul Ben'mass."

"I owe a debt, Miss Rane," I explained, and realized again my poor choice of words when I saw their reactions. "Not one of money… one of…. spirits, the turian word is a Heart-Debt."

I blinked at my own words. In all the hubbub of the past week, I hadn't had the opportunity to frame these thoughts to myself, much less have any kind of conversation with Khen about it.

"He gave me my life back," I heard myself speak. "And I… he needs my help right now."

The female batarian nodded slowly as we walked, and I realized exactly how much I was venting.

"Your pardon, ma'am," I stammered. "I didn't… I mean, I shouldn't have…"

"That's quite alright," Rane answered quickly. "I understand. More than you know…"

The last sentence was directed less at me and more towards the figure of the Reyja'krem, who was arguing with Voya about… something, it was hard to follow the one-sided conversation.

"Laila!" Khentu called out from a huddle of our squad.

"I take my leave, Miss ul Ben'mass," I stated quietly. "Pillars guide you in your battle today."

"And yours," the Batarian stated politely, as we rejoined our respective parties.

"Alright, everyone," Khentu was saying as I walked up. "So the plan is to pull off an Old-Fashioned, pulling the responders into an Omega Sunrise… yes, Waz?"

The asari lowered her hand from where she had raised it in a question.

"I'm afraid to ask, but if we're doing an Old-Fashioned, who is the Damsel?"

Khentu just grinned.

"I hate all of you. So much."

"We would ask Laila, but she doesn't have the hips for it," Agrippa quipped, shooting me a sidelong glance. I waved my hand in front of my face in the turian gesture for 'clanless'. He just grinned at the insult.

"Jesse, Barco, you'll be first in the door," Khentu continued. "Laila, you're with me. Agrippa, you're overwatch with Soji."

"Makes you wish we still had Rota's portable cannon of a rifle, doesn't it?" I asked as we broke up, beginning our walk to our destination.

"The Carrd District has the best elcor hospital on the station," Khen shrugged. "I wasn't going to make him leave Kapena."

I nodded in understanding. "Any word on Tess?" I asked.

Khentu's smile faded, and he grew grim for a moment.

"She's back with Tol," he answered. "She's… not sleeping well, unless he's there."

I nodded. "Everyone reacts differently to almost dying, or having to take a life. Both in her case."

Khentu's nonchalant smile returned, as did his carefree shrug. "I dunno," he replied. "I killed my first man at… Amun-Ra, I was nine: drugged-up Batarian came at me with a knife made from a tin can, high as a kite on Red Sand. I don't think he even felt it when I stabbed him in the upper-left eye with my dagger."

He looked over at me. "What about you?"

"Twelve," I answered. "One of the other slaves in my pen decided he liked touching little girls. So I waited until he got close… and then severed his jugular with my teeth."

"Niiiice," Waz chortled next to us, double-checking her rifle before handing the large Naginata-model rifle to me, along with her helmet. "Take good care of this, lover," she sighed, and then unzipped a generous portion of her combat bodysuit, giving any casual observer an excellent view of her… assets. "Mamma's gotta go to work."

She strode across the way, sashaying her hips as she entered the store in question.

"Comms check, comms check," came the Talon's voice over our radios. "Everybody hear me?"

"We copy," came the Reyja'krem's cool voice. "We're all set here."

"We've just sent in our Damsel," Khentu answered. "Stand-by for a good Old-Fashioned Stick-Up."

"Kyatia, are you understanding any of this babbling?" the human stated wearily.

"Not a word," the female turian admitted after a moment.

"Oh, good, at least we're still sane."

"As sane as anyone on Omega."

"A prophet is never karking appreciated in his own country," Khentu swore quietly, cutting off the comm line and looking back over to me. "Wait for Waz's signal."

After about five minutes, a click-click came over the comms, at which point Jesse and Barco ran the eight or so paces from the ration-stand where they had been standing, the massive drell kicking open the storefront door before the salarian tossed in a home-made flash-bang. The device went off with a massive THUD that sounded more like a sledgehammer hitting pavement than any kind of explosion, and then smoke began pouring out of the shattered windows. Khentu and I came in at a run, following closely behind the first two.

It was a fairly nondescript storefront, only instead of the nuts and bolts I had been expecting, rows and rows of weapons stood along the walls, with others in cases along the side.

Oh… that kind of hardware.

"EVERYONE STAY DOWN!" Khentu's external mic boomed. "We are evil beings here, hells-bent on wrongdoing and all matter of crime. Stay down, and live to see another day!"

A batarian in a light suit of armor reached a hand up on the counter, pulling himself up to a half-standing position. "Do you have ANY IDEA who you're stealing from, you karking…?"

Jesse spun left, putting a single shot of his rifle into the shopkeeper's neck, between the breastplate and helmet.

"Anybody else have a witty comeback?" the drell asked the room of prostrate figures. Six more batarians lay on the ground, along with two salarians. Which ones were gang members and which were customers, it was hard to tell, especially in the hazy smoke.

The batarians were clustered on one side of the store, around a half-naked asari figure, to whom I passed her rifle and helmet back after pulling her back up to her feet.

"I see you managed to get your tits out again," I said in a low voice as Wasilla zipped her suit back up to her neck.

"Ugh… next time, you seduce the store guards," she moaned after she replaced her helmet on her head. "My head is still ringing."

"You!" Khentu yanked a salarian to his feet. "You know where they keep the chits?"

"N-n-no chits," the salarian stammered. "W-w-we only deal in credit he…"

Khentu's pistol swung, and a slug went through the second salarian's head before returning to the first's head.

"Lie to me again, and it'll be your brains on the wall," he stated calmly. "Now tell me what I want to know, or make your peace with your dear and fluffy lord."

"Don't tell him shit, Domri," one of the batarians hissed through clenched teeth. Waz hefted her rifle and boomed a shot at point-blank range. The guard's head and most of his neck disappeared in a flash of red liquid.

"Terrible kisser, by the way," she stated to the rest of the startled guards. "Honestly, how many of you have to die before you learn to shut up?"

"Now open the safe… Domri, wasn't it?" Khentu repeated.

"A-a-alright," the salarian stammered nervously, and suddenly a very foul smell began emanating from the nervous clerk. Based on Barco's scoff of distain, I was pretty sure he smelled it too. As the salarian bent over the counter, typing in a code to the large safe there, our mics clicked again.

"Here they come," Someone, probably a junior Talon, reported.

"Looks like our intel was correct," Kyatia followed him up. "We've definitely got krogan and a spirits-load of vorcha coming your way."

"Right then," Khentu said as the safe door came open. Domri got a pistol-shot to the side of his face, and then Khen swept the safe's contents into a leather shoulder-bag.

"You have no idea the sand-storm that's about to descend on you, Human," another of the Batarians sneered. "None of you will live to see tomorrow's-"

Khentu's pistol cut off whatever threat he was going to make, and he stood over the body, shaking his head, and then turned to the four remaining Batarians.

"First rule of survival here, lads," he said, "You wanna live on Omega? Keep your mouths shut."

Barco, Jesse, and Wasilla's guns all barked, and Khentu was suddenly looking down at four more corpses.

"Of course, that's not a guaranteed rule of survival," he grinned wryly. "Alright, Barco, Laila, stand ready with the overloads. Jesse, you and I will keep their heads down. Waz, throw singularities and warps to keep them funneled into the street."

"These are some good-looking weapons here," Waz stated admiringly as we set up along the shopfront.

"Don't bother," I answered. "Display weapons usually have the capacitors removed, so the weapon will just blow up whoever tries to use them without buying."

"The weapons in the cases are just projections," Barco added. "That Hornet SMG has blinked on and off twice since we've been here."

"Don't worry," Khentu cut in. "We kill all these fuckers, and then the store will be ours to loot. Aria's just concerned about territory: nobody will give a fuck about the contents of the store.

The street outside, so busy just a few minutes before, had emptied of civilians within seconds of the first flash-bang going off. Deserted, it was easy to see the dark figures flitting back and forth between cover, spurred on by the giant figures of two or three krogan, who occasionally kicked or roared at the more hesitant of their vorcha charges to get them to move forward. The way Khen's helmet tilted, I could tell he was grinning.

"Barco."

"Don't make me play the song," the salarian sighed.

"Do it."

"Alright, your funeral…"

Suddenly, every external speaker on the street began blaring a disconcordant wail:

"RELAX, DON'T DO IT, JUST MOVE IT TO THE GROOVE-IT!"

"Khentu." Wasilla's tone was borderline murderous. "I'm. Going. To. Kill. You."

"AsarRave?" I asked, recognizing the song. "Seriously? Nobody other than petulant teenagers and angsty maidens listen to…"

"ASARI LIPS WILL LICK, LOVE THAT KROGAN DICK… THAT'S RIGHT, LOVERS, WE'RE HERE!"

That word 'lovers' rang in my head and I slowly turned towards the asari next to me.

"Waz…" I said slowly. "Is… that… your voice?"

"It was a phase, OK?" Wasilla M'Taza protested, a little too quickly, "It was literally five decades ago, for Athame's sake!"

"Spirits…" I said in a low voice. "You're M'Tazzle Razzle Dazzle?"

"Can we get back to killing people, please?!"

Just then, as the Paragon's reinforcements were looking around in confusion, trying to find the source of the truly annoying music, gunfire erupted from the rooftops, and grenades began exploding.

"Oh, thank the goddess," Wasilla muttered, and flung a singularity out into the street, pulling three figures out from cover. Barco and I began flinging overloads out of the store window at the figures running for the store. Three or so vorcha went down immediately, and shields began to spark under the combined fire. A figure ran forwards, shouldering a massive cylinder in our direction.

"Oh, crap, rocket!" I called out in warning. Agrippa's and Waz's shots hit the batarian only seconds apart, but not before he had pulled the trigger, sending a stream of fire barreling towards us. Waz dropped her rifle and flared her biotics. Her quick thinking is probably what saved us, as the dark energy brought the rocket up into the roof rather than entering the store and killing us all. As it was, it still brought enough of the roof down to block our view from the storefront window, forcing us to shift positions. Khentu and I moved out the door to a nearby flipped streetcar.

"YEAH, We're gonna STAY HERE, YEAH, we have NO FEAR…"

"This song…" I groaned as the Asari punk band still blared from the few speakers that still worked. "It's terrible."

"Genius, isn't it?" Khentu said next to me, waiting for his rifle to cool. "Imagine their embarrassment when this is the last thing they're listening to when they die."

"Just as likely it's the last thing you'll be listening to when you die," I retorted. Khentu's head cocked to the side, and he nodded slowly.

"Shit, that's true. Didn't really think this through."

"Spirits, what a surprise," I muttered, leaning left to launch an overload and a shotgun blast down-range. "Rushing… rushing us, they're rushing us."

"ANYTIME you want to get involved, Exile," Khentu stated into the radio. "Don't feel like you have to wait for an invitation."

Just in that moment, a string of tech-mines detonated down the length of the narrow street, scattering the Paragons and their Blood Pack allies into disarray. The Reyja'krem's black-armored figure came down into cover with us, firing a massive pistol in the enemy's direction.

"Some of us fight smart, Arrow," his voice muttered in High Batarian, before Rane and he began flinging mines forward again.

"What he'd say?" Khentu asked, evidently not understanding the more elaborate language.

"He said cover him," I lied, not having time or patience for Khen's ego at the moment.

"What's he think we're doing?" Khentu muttered, leaning to fire his rifle blindly around the car. "Dancing a jig?"

"He thinks you're wasting time and bullets," the Reyja'krem muttered, now in Thessian. "So perhaps dancing might be more beneficial in this moment."

"Well if that cane is any indication, your dancing days may be behind you," Khentu grinned, replying in the same language. "So we'll do what we can."

Cackling hysterically, Khentu fired his jump-blasts in his boots, boosting him over the top of the aircar in a dramatic flip. He ran forward, downing another Paragon who had stuck his head out to try and pin us down. As if in answer, a group of vorcha sprang up to rush him.

"Voya," the Reyja'krem said, his tones... oddly permissive. "Go."

A sniper rifle cracked, and then a dark figure was beside Khentu, twin knives flashing. In what seemed like only seconds, the vorcha were collapsing, slashed to ribbons, and her rifle was on her shoulder again as she moved forward, dripping black blood, leaving a bewildered Khentu standing there, trying to figure out what had happened.

"I had them," he insisted, as we moved up to his position. A scoffing sound was the only answer he got.

"Sure you did, boss," I answered before he could tell me. "Sure you did."

Talons were now dropping to the street level as well to finish off the last of the would-be posse, most of whom had been cut down in the first few minutes of the ambush.

"A good start," the Talon lieutenant stated, looking around at the bodies. "But all of this won't mean a damn thing if we can't get those tunnels sealed."

"Then what we waiting for?" Khentu grinned. "You guys want to take a nap or something?"

"We're ready to move," Kean stated simply.

We divided into the four vehicles we had: our armored car, and three the Talons had brought. Kean and his party had borrowed the aircar from Eclipse, and it wasn't armored anyway, so they wound up sitting on the opposite side of our vehicle. The Quarian was visibly tense in the crowded vehicle, looking like she would like nothing better than to knife us all.

"So… T'Mazzle Razzle Dazzle?" I said to Wasilla, more to break the silence than anything else.

"I was a young and stupid maiden with more tits than sense," she sighed. "We had one hit song, and it all went to our heads. Took me a long time to get out of that…weird place in my life."

"But I mean, how cool is it to have a celebrity in our squad?" Khentu cut in, with that insufferable human expression on his face that showed all of his teeth.

"Why I told you about that time in my life is beyond me," Wasilla growled.

"Umm… because you were drunk off your ass?" Khentu offered. "Seriously though, we should broadcast that song on speakers whenever we go anywhere. That way people will know…"

Wasilla's rifle leveled, and a concussive round boomed, unusually loud in the closed space of the cargo truck. Khentu's shields and armor saved him from any real harm, but it was still enough to kock him onto the truck's floor, wheezing as all the air was knocked out of his lungs.

"Oh, Goddess, sorry about that," Wasilla intoned in a deadpan voice, "I was cleaning it, and it went off. How clumsy of me."

"Just glad she did it, and not me," the Reyja'krem sighed from his seated position. "I would have aimed for your head just to end this conversation."

That caused Miss Rane kicked him in the shin, a gesture that was more symbolic than anything else in our seated positions. But before anybody else could say anything, Jesse leaned his head back from the driver's seat.

"Trouble ahead!" he called out. "Barricade."

"Well, it was too much to hope they'd all be idiots," Agrippa sighed, shouldering his Phaestron. "Khen, you alright?"

A fist came up with thumb upraised. Agrippa looked over at me with a confused expression.

"It's a human gesture," I explained. "It means, 'I'm good.'"

"Half go left, half go right?" The Reyja'krem said, managing to make the suggestion sound like a question than an order.

"At your shoulder, Reyja'krem," Soji murmured in a low voice, which was acknowledged with a curt nod.

"Jesse, you go with him," Khentu added, grunting as he heaved himself upright again. "That gives us five for each side of the street."

"Quite wise," the drell nodded. "Dropping ramp in five, four, three, two…?"

The rear ramp came down, and we fanned right, with the Reyja'krem and his cadre moving left, with Soji and Jesse in support. Almost immediately, shots began peppering the street, though none of with any degree of power or accuracy. The Talon vehicles also pulled up, and the heavy machine gun on the lead vehicle opened fire.

The Paragons had obviously not had much time to erect the barricade opposite, but they had done well enough in the short time between the ambush and now. The bottom of the barricade was made of solid timbers, with sheet metal and sandbags making up the top, it looked like. Above one of these a shirtless figure appeared, a makeshift firebomb in hand. A rifle boomed, Chi's, I thought, and the half-full bottle of spirits exploded in his hand, send an impressive-sized column of flame upwards, mingled with the dying cries of its would-be user and the two or three fighters closest to him.

"Pop smoke!" Khentu called out, and Agrippa fired a cylinder from his weapons' under-barrel attachment. The cloud of black smoke that resulted meant that we hidden from the defender's view, but the other side of the chit was that now we couldn't see them, either. Incinerates and overloads began flying forwards, disappearing into the smoke with the grunts and curses of unseen foes.

As we kicked open a door to take cover in a nearby shop, an angry face appeared in front of me, a short butcher's cleaver upraised. By sheer instinct, my shogun fired, catching him in the knees. The batarian screamed in agony and went down thrashing wildly. My other hand came up, pistol in hand, and barked once, ending his suffering.

"Second floor," Khentu ordered. "Let's get above the fuckers."

We moved up the spiral iron staircase to what appeared to be a floor of apartment suites. Khentu kicked one of the doors down and made his way inside. Through the small barred window of the bedroom, I could see that the barricade below us was now very much on fire, the pillar of flame driving both defenders and attackers back. The five of us opened fire on the Paragons as they retreated, and I triggered an Incinerate to send them on their way.

"Next building," Khentu barked, and we made our way through the maze of rooms until we came to the end of the row.

"There's our target," Agrippa pointed, a large warehouse now in clear view at the end of the street. "That's their headquarters."

"Barco, can you bring the truck?" Khentu asked.

"Sure," the salarian nodded, spinning up his Omni-Tool to bring the remote-piloting of our vehicle online. We made our way down to the street level, where we met up with the rest of our assault party.

"A strong position," Kyatia said grimly, stealing a glance around the corner. "They'll have snipers on the top levels."

"And more than likely krogan and vorcha on the ground floor," Kean nodded. "Assuming that they're not bringing up more every second we delay."

"Spirits," Kyatia swore. "We could lose half our people assaulting that place."

"So how 'bout we just…don't?" The other two commanders looked at Khentu, who placed a hand on his hip and met their helmeted stares evenly.

"Look where the warehouse is," he continued, pointing up above the building in question. Sure enough, the warehouse was built into the rock face of the station, with the rock walls rising up and over us, forming the foundations of the level above us.

"A few well-aimed rockets, a few stalagtites in the wrong places, and bam, Sobek's your uncle."

The other two stared at the rock face for a long moment, and then at each other, and then at Khentu.

"That's…" I said slowly, "actually a good plan."

"You don't need to sound so surprised," Khentu objected.

"Sounds simple," Kean said. "Do we have rockets?"

"Coming up now," Khentu gestured to the truck approaching us. "Been saving them for a special occasion: I'd say 'Saving us from assaulting an impregnable position and getting ourselves killed' qualifies."

"You'll hear no argument here," Kyatia shrugged. "If we can pull it off."

"We have three launchers," Khentu continued. "You two have any marksmen in your parties?"

And so within a few minutes, Agrippa and two other Talons were hefting the cylindrical launchers on their shoulders and, using the truck for cover, moved out from the corner into close range. Bullets pinged and sparked off the reinforced armor of the truck, but the defenders were obviously not taking one vehicle advancing as a serious threat.

"Steady," Kean's voice came over the general channel. "Unless they're all monumental idiots, as soon as they realize what's up, they're gonna come at us in earnest."

"Well, here's hoping for idiocy," Khentu responded. "Fire!"

All three tubes belched flame, and three rockets streaked up towards the ceiling. A few taunts and jeering laughs could be heard from the defending compound, but these were silenced as soon as the rockets made impact. The three explosions weren't nearly enough to cause a reaction as large as we wanted or hoped, but the amount of loose rock that rained down on the building served as proof of concept for the tactic.

The sporadic gunfire that had been sent our direction was now renewed with redoubled intensity.

"Anytime…" Khentu said, putting a hand up to his helmet.

From our side, Wasilla and the other snipers began picking off the gunfighters who showed themselves, putting a healthy amount of fear into those that remained. Another volley of light missiles fired, and the rubble falling grew a bit larger, as did the cracks in the rock face. Suddenly, the large double doors facing us flew open, and giant armored figures rumbled forward at a pace I had never seen krogan manage.

"Come on…" Khentu crooned, as if he was calling a wayward varren pup. "Come on, big fellas…"

The closest krogan trod on the proximity-triggered mine that we had been throwing forward this entire time, the action going unnoticed with all the rocket-fire. The krogan's foot came off at the ankle, and he pitched forward onto his face, bellowing pain.

Which triggered three other mines simultaneously.

He disappeared in an orange cloud of meat and blood, and even in their Blood-Raged fury, the rest of the charge paused at the sight. Which meant that the group of krogan now stood out in the open, completely exposed. Two of them went down almost at once, sniper rounds piercing their throats and other weak points in their armor. Two of the krogan hefted giant shields into place, opting to fall back under the hail of fire the rest of our party was sending their direction.

The other one opted to take his chances going forward, roaring a challenge as he came towards the truck. Two more mines exploded as he passed them, depleting his shields and shredding armor, but a blue haze of a biotic barrier flashed around him, and he came on stubbornly. One of the Talons with us lost his nerve, and leveled the rocket launcher at the charging figure.

"Don't waste that…," Khentu began, but then the light missile streaked forward, and the brave Krogan vanished in the resulting explosion that spattered krogan guts everywhere. The other two rockets streaked upwards, and the two explosions so high above us seemed tiny, but then the entire rock face began shifting.

"I believe that's our signal," Khentu said, false levity lacing the tense words. "Come on, lads, let's make like a baby and head out of this bitch."

The truck engine roared, and we each grabbed a handhold as it turned and streaked back for the corner. But even as we reached there, it was fairly obvious that we were still not safe.

"FALL BACK!" Kyatia called. "Everyone get back!"

Massive boulders were now coming down on the Paragon's warehouse, tearing through the concrete walls and crashing through the roof. Something inside flashed, and then suddenly the entire warehouse… exploded, sending rubble and shrapnel in all directions, like the station's largest frag grenade. I was vaguely aware of a somebody grabbing me and hauling me into the shelter of a nearby building before the shockwave hit us, sending us all to the ground and filling the air with concrete dust. Here and there, bits of rock and building still clattered around us, like a crude parody of rain.

"Everybody OK?" Kyatia called out, the Talon commander coughing as she regained her feet. "All squads, sound off."

A few minutes later, groups of Talons were combing through the rubble of the warehouse, confirming what was already painfully obvious, but had to be done anyway: the few survivors were being put down, and the tunnels leading to Kima were sealed beneath about twenty feet of solid concrete.

"GOD-EMPEROR will kill you!" I heard a vorcha hiss at the Reyja'krem's feet. "All will burn!"

"Heard it," the human Exile sighed, and put a bullet through the wounded creature. "Bored of it. Done over here: Rane?"

The female batarian's reply was lost to my hearing as Khentu groaned and sat down next to me, taking off his helmet.

"We're headed back to the store," he sighed, "The useless displays have probably been taken, but I doubt anybody's had time to set up cutting torches or heavy equipment to crack the vault."

"Probably not," I agreed, and stood to my feet, only to realize that Khentu was still sitting.

"So…" he began, and cleared his throat nervously.

"What?" I asked, sitting back down.

"I just heard from Ptolemy," he explained. "The lockdown of the station has been lifted, and Rota is taking the Iswanee back to Citadel space at the end of next shift. Tess… Tess is going with him."

"Oh," I replied, "I see."

"Do you?"

"Do I?"

He shook his head and stared at the helmet in his lap. "You're going to make me ask it, aren't you?"

"Ask what?" I wondered, genuinely confused.

"Are you… dammit, will you stay?" he finally managed. "We could… no, I could use your help to keep this circus running."

There was a long pause with neither of us saying anything. Then Khentu's eyes went wide.

"Oh, gods, not as a slave," he explained hurriedly. "Gods no, not with collars or anything like that. You'd be paid. Not well, not all the time, but you'd be…"

"I will," I cut him off. "I'll stay."

"Really?" Khentu's look of disbelief, surprise, and incredulity was mingled with an emotion I hadn't seen before, and couldn't really place: joy, maybe? "You will?"

"This place is…" I began, and started over. "Invictus hasn't been home for me in almost a decade. As fucked up as it may seem, this place has been more a home to me than any other."

"Great!" Khentu answered, and then realized it was a little too enthusiastic. "I mean, um…. Great. That's… that's great. It's really… ummm…. Really…"

"Great?" I offered.

"Exactly," Khentu grinned. "See? Earning your pay already."

He stood to his feet, folding his rifle away on his back and reaching for his helmet.

"We're done here, Arrows!" he called out. "One more stop, and then let's go home!"

Home.

The word echoed over and over again in my mind as we loaded back in the cargo truck and resumed our journey. All my life I had been mocked and reviled by my own kind as bare-faced: clanless, without hearth or kin. For turians, that is the lowest of the low: it means no ancestors to whisper advice to eager ears. It means no descendants to lay your bones to rest besides those who came before you. It means no one to laugh with your victories, no one to weep with your sorrows.

Home.

Perhaps all that had changed today.

Author's Note:

And so ends Act 1 of this story!

Hope you guys have enjoyed it! I know I've had tons of fun writing from the POV of a nobody/everyday citizen of Omega. As far as Act 2 or even possibly 3 of this story goes, I live by a very simple rule: If people want to read it, I will write it.

Special thanks to Katkiller-V for the edits, and letting me borrow his wonderful sandbox of a ME-fanverse. Please leave your thoughts/suggestions/constructive criticisms in the review section below!

ROCK ON, MY FRIENDS!

-Tusken1602

Reviewer Responses:

BJ Hanssen: Hey, it's like I've always said: When life gives you a shipful of murderous Krogan, make High Treason...

Draco Oblivion: Definitely gonna be anti-Krogan bias, at the very least, but Mentu does represent another fundamental shift in the Blood Arrows' leadership. I really enjoy writing Khentu and Laila's scenes.

seabo76: Hehehe... I see what you did there. ;)

EE-RAH!