Noxious fumes that could only belong to liquefying metal suffused the air with a bang. The entrance to the warehouse vaporized in a flash of light as flames engulfed the front half of the building. Inhuman screeches arose from the walking torches that shambled out of the inferno, falling over one another into piles of burnt material as they reached cool air.
Yet, like their earlier counterparts, the screeching creatures were unfazed by the flames and the sight of their fellows burning by the score. For every one that died in that blaze, two more came bursting from fire and smoke, running over the mounds of their fallen, and reaching with fingers turned talons to mortal souls.
The gates of hell had opened, and their denizens were spilling forth in their droves at the prospect of a second life. Shepard and his fellow marines did their part to ensure that it was a brief one. Rifles punted and clattered against shoulders, as specialized munitions ripped open fist sized holes in grey bodies. Gun barrels smoked red as heat sinks were popped; cooled in an instant and rising again to scalding temperatures as the trio poured everything they were worth into the hungry hoard.
"Kaiden!" Shepard roared over the din.
Alenko cursed as he dropped two creatures with a burst and took out another three with a biotic throw. He turned to the batarian, which was quivering behind the cover of his crate and yanked him out with a biotic field. Quayd landed face first onto the metal platform only to have an armored glove yank him by the collar onto his feet. Kaiden forced him forward and put a boot into his scrambling backside, "Move you shiftless bat!"
Shepard and Williams moved back in increments. They were methodical in their shots, firing in bursts to conserve ammo, but even with the occasional grenade tossed by Williams, or a shockwave of biotic power orchestrated by Shepard, it wasn't enough. It wasn't close to enough. It was like trying to hold back a tide of synthetic meat that pushed closer and closer with every breath.
"Cryo!" screeched Shepard.
Both marines thumbed the mods for their weapons and fired again. Bright white rounds were emitted by their rifles every dozen shots, but all of their bullets had the same satisfying effect. With each impact, the flesh and wiring of the creatures would snap freeze in a miniature cryo field. Normally that would slow down an armored target, but for these defenseless mutants, it stiffened their bodies and made them brittle. The ones that were foremost in the encroaching mass would slow, and stall those behind before falling over. When they landed it sounded like glass breaking, their bodies crushed into a hundred skidding pieces as their counterparts tried to run over them.
From the corner of his eye Shepard saw movement and pivoted his torso. His fist was raised glowing and moved in a horizontal throw. The mass effect field shattered crates and turned over a lifter, sending more of the creatures flying, but giving just as many an unimpeded path on their flank.
And there were more arriving each minute: metal screeched as the warehouses on the other end had their doors knocked aside in a rush, or had their sides tore open in a frenzy of sharpened claws and sprawling forms. Shepard grit his teeth and reloaded, firing at one that tried to leap at him. It jerked mid-air, its momentum uninterrupted and crashing into the commander even as he activated his omni-tool. The scythe like appendage came into being on his left hand as he shrugged off the body and darted forward. Bringing it downward it phased into the collar bone of another and whatever passed for the creature's respiratory system. He tore its chest open as he freed his instrument, bringing the weapon in a sweep that decapitated another.
"Fall back!"
Williams swore, whether it was at the order, at the stubbornness of their attackers, or at the overheated weapon in her hands Shepard wasn't certain. Thermal clips spent, she threw the defunct weapon at a moaning monster and made it stumble. She pulled out her new pistol and fired at it, the recoil more than she expected as well as its result. The shot had put a hole the size of her head in the things ribcage. She brought out her other pistol and took potshots at the creatures climbing over the sides of the platform from the direction of the road. She covered the commander as she inched back, putting down the hostiles that were circling around him, or were trying to tackle them from the right.
One down…two down…three…four…five…
"Ashley!"
She turned and ran.
Shepard gave her a few heart beats to establish some distance between him and the rest of the horde before a violet aura engulfed him. The biotic amp in his brain kicked into overdrive as he charged himself for all that he was worth. Purple light shimmered in his eyes as his limbs left faded afterimages of their movements. With a roar he threw out an open palm, willing every ounce of the power his augmented nervous system allowed into a single point.
What came out was a black dot, a sphere the size of a baseball and blacker than a slavers heart. It floated precariously in the air, a dozen meters away from Shepard as he dropped to a knee. His brain was on fire and his body was tingling with the pain of a thousand needles jabbing into every inch of his muscles. One creature ran up to him from his right, close enough to graze a claw at his visor. The hardened glass scratched at its touch a moment before it was sucked away from him feet first.
The sphere had expanded. It grew in size and violently tugged at everything around it: crates light with merchandise flew over his head; charred debris from the warehouse was caught in the orbs grip as well as the flailing forms of his attackers. Some of the heavier crates and loading equipment began to skid along the platform, inches at first, but audibly the grind was getting louder. They were slowly being drawn to the growing mass of material and bodies, when they did, they would crush smash anything smaller than they were.
Shepard bit his tongue as he crawled, everything hurt, but he made himself move before the orb could snag him as well. When he got to his feet, he half stumbled-half jogged-to his squad and his ticket out. There was no grace to his movements; he rolled over the railing to stairs that lead downwards to the docked tram. Rather than get up he tumbled through the remaining steps.
His second attempt to rise was impeded as a purple glow surrounded him, and yanked him forward off his feet. Alenko made his CO fly with a shimmering glove onto the transport. As soon as he was on he yelled, "Now!"
Williams punched the start sequence for the tram. It moved slowly at first, but with the weightier sections cut off by the pair of them earlier, it soon gained sufficient momentum. Rapidly, the station began to get away from them, along with the synthetic abominations that managed to escape from the spheres hold and roam near the railing.
Even at this distance, Sergeant Ashley Williams could make out the ballooning sphere beneath the chaotic material that swirled around it. She couldn't gauge its size but Alenko could: his visor recorded it at a monstrous 15 meters in diameter, its area of influence a little over twice that.
The commander's singularity uprooted the closest warehouse and most of the platform before it detonated.
It rumbled with thunder before it went out, everything that was within its grasp appeared to blossom outward a second before being swallowed inwards. Faster than a man could blink, all that the artificial black hole had a hold over condensed into a single point and vanished promptly.
All that remained was the gentle shaking of the tram and the labored breathing of the four souls on board. Alenko attention was snapped back to Williams and her cry of "Commander!" He rushed over as she propped him up against a jangling crate. Shepard's limbs were stiff and unmoving, his teeth showed white in his brown face as the muscles locked into an unfeeling grin. Green eyes rolled white as they tried to peer into the back of his skull and his twitching brain.
"Sir," Williams asked as she fumbled for her belt, "What do I-,"
"I got it," said Alenko as he reached for a pouch on his belt and pulled out a slim grey cylinder.
"Fucking fantastic," said Quayd, as he stared in the direction of the station they left. "First the Higs, than robots and now zombies, I knew I should have called in sick on a Monday."
"Shut up," said Alenko.
"Is he alright?" asked Williams.
Alenko didn't respond, but rather tilted the commander's head and jabbed the cylinder into a slight opening along his neck piece. The hypodermic needle pierced the skin underneath and drained itself into his bloodstream. "Baby's First Cocktail," said Alenko as if he anticipated a question from either of them. He studied the commander's features as he narrated, "Synthetic formula: muscle relaxants, neural stimulants, some fancy version of morphine and a bunch other crap."
"He's still shaking," said Williams.
"Means he burned out some nerves, happens when a biotic pushes too hard."
"Sweet shit," said Quayd.
"Time?" the word came out in a croak through clenched teeth. Alenko looked at Williams and she answered, "Were traveling light, so I'd say about ten minutes to port sir."
"Another," the commander ground out. Kaiden looked at his superior, worry warred with concern as he pulled out another cylinder and jabbed it into the commander's neck. "It ok to take more than one?" asked Williams.
"Not even remotely."
"Up," the commander ordered.
They helped him to his feet. He took a long breath, his eyes were over the batarian's shoulder and focused into the distance beyond, "Almost there…" he whispered.
Balak cleared the last stair and walked the upper levels of the ruined spaceport. As he moved, two eyes slid to the level below him. Most of the batarian teams had pulled out earlier, but there were still a handful of them scurrying about on planet and along the tramline beneath him. Volunteers all, each was determined to see themselves martyred so that the last phase of the attack would go off without a hitch.
He felt pride stir underneath his breast at that thought, a touch of sadness yes, but mostly pride. Having negative feelings was in itself expected: no matter how he rationalized it, it was hard to part with those that had served him faithfully after all these years. Balak closed all four of his eyes and yelled, "Blood for Khar'shan!"
His teeth gleamed needle like as the cry was carried by his men below and echoed across the walls around him. When he opened two of eyes he saw a pair of mechanical figures standing by. Both of the geth's photoreceptors clicked and whirred as he approached them, but otherwise they remained as still as statues. Like most variants they were stark white and around Batarian height, armored in a thick but flexible shell without, and bundles of synthetic fibers within. Balak rotated the shoulder of his artificial arm as he neared them. Those bundles functioned in a similar vein as muscles and were more efficient than the lopsided, cybernetic versions that the monkeys pioneered.
The Geth waited unmoving, and they would wait until he ordered them otherwise. Reveling in his authority he gestured his head at the large and long grey device that lay a few meters from him. "Prep the nukes," he said casually, "All of them. I want this fucking planet torched."
As one they both turned and knelt near the device, keying in commands on its pad to initiate the start up sequence. Balak grinned at their backs and to himself as he resumed his walk. A soldier that knew no fear, an asset that would only obey, a tool that would live to serve and never cease serving…
He laughed an honest man's laugh. At last, aliens that knew their place in the scheme of things! For the first time in a long time, he felt his spirits soar .Victory was within reach, all he had to do was reach out and grasp it. No more would he have to live with the disgust of having his own live at the beck and call of those hairless bastards. No more, would he have to resort to reaving and slaving those animal's colonies a handful at a time. No more would he have to slink about in the Terminus like a whipped cur after beating them in the balls.
Balak's grin got even wider. Every deed he had done would be vindicated; every one of his own that had died for the cause would not have done so in vain. History would remember him and all like him as the Great Liberators of the Batarian people, and after that much needed salvation was provided for them, after those apes were finally ground under the heels of their betters, he would see to it that every two eyed fuck that stood silent in their hour of need wail on their hands and…
"Sir?" a voice spoke into his head.
Balak pressed a finger against a pointed ear, "What is it?"
"We have to leave sir. Drones have picked up activity at the Relay the monkeys are coming in full swing."
"In a minute"
"But sir…"
"In a minute Charn," said Balak as he walked, "Once last piece of business to clear up, have the fleet stall them."
"There's not much left sir," persisted Charn
"Is the dreadnought functional?"
A pause and then a reply, "Wounded at 43% but she's stable. Can't run, but with the modifications we made prior she can limp."
"As long as it shoots Charn"
"Yes sir."
Balak walked further and made a left unto a large clearing of white metal and scattered goods. He had ordered a number of Geth units to round up the survivors from the initial landing. They were honest in their tales of what was useful and what wasn't in terms of goods and for that the batarian was grateful. On the other hand, if he hadn't stumbled upon the whimpering dockworkers earlier he wouldn't have hesitated to send the Geth to work instead.
Slave work, after all, was for aliens, appeasers and disgraced bloodlines.
A glance to his left told him the dockworkers were right where he left them: near the railing, overlooking the countryside beyond, and spiked through their midsections. When they rose again they would serve him of course, but they wouldn't truly appreciate the changes he made to the landscape.
And what a sight it was.
Rather than a plantation stretching into the setting sun, most of the surrounding area was glowing a dull orange. Vapors of heat would occasionally escape from the field of polished reflections before being snatched away by the breeze. The sight filled him with smug satisfaction, proof that even after all these years the apes could be cracked open with the right tool.
They were a paranoid lot by default; even the poorest of their cities were fortified out to the teeth. Armored brigades would bleed if they couldn't be repelled from the ground; the same could be said for conventional fighter craft. If an ape was unarmed than it was because it was too young to hold a rifle, and most apes preferred their rifles.
They're worst than the Turians. Balak spat as he thought of the Council's muscle and sneered at the thought of either of them. The only difference between the Hierarchy and Humanity was that latter was willing to pay out the ass to set up their most important colonies with kinetic barriers. A policy that would bankrupt most worlds, but it pretty much guaranteed their safety from an orbital standpoint.
But against lasers?
Balak sniggered at that. Shields couldn't do shit to stop radiation from energy weapons, and his geth came prepared. Too costly for the Council to even think about investing in their ships, but when did a machine ever value money? Killing the humans with a weapon that they themselves dominated the field in, more so than any other alien, only added to the sweetness of the act.
At last he stopped walking as his objective loomed in front of him. The device was tall and metallic with a curving base. Misty green light surrounded it, while at its peak; a beam of the same color knifed its way into the reddened sky. Sandstone and dark brown were its colors; perhaps the stain from 50,000 years of living below ground had overpowered its original paint? Perhaps, perhaps not, though the tech was beyond ancient, the Prothean Beacon was functional.
Balak felt himself lift off of his feet as he relaxed his arms to his sides. Its design was simple…yet elegant, bare…but sublime. He closed his eyes and relaxed as the last word crossed his mind.
Sublime…
Just like how the day would end.