I don't own the Mass Effect.
Operation: Press Ganged
The Silver Blade
Date: 08-19-2186
Location: Afterlife, Omega, Sahrabarik System, Terminus
"Any word from Massani yet?" Voya asked, her voice filling the patient silence in the luxurious room we were lounging in.
"Nothing." I replied with a rolling shrug, fighting the urge to drum my fingers on the table in front of me. The pair of us were waiting inside one of Afterlife's many VIP rooms, along with an entire Line squad from the Second Omega, plus a half-squad of combat engineers from the First. The troopers were clearly in awe of their company and their surroundings, but were doing a credible job of not gawking.
I hadn't wanted to drag them with, my original idea had been to bring with both Lancer teams, but Ayle's argument that I should show some faith in the rank and file had convinced me otherwise.
"Which doesn't really surprise me," I continued, controlling my hands by having them tug at my armor. Even with the guards this meeting was a bit of a risk, especially occurring here rather than in our own territory. "It's only been a week, and if rumors are right he's still out in the Dark Rim. The old fish will probably get a hold of him long before we do."
Voya made a quiet, mewling sound, her longest finger on her right hand tapping against the wine flute on the table in front of her. She had removed her helmet, as I had, upon entering the sealed room, and her hair was loose and mane-like, the strands rustling as she shook her head. "I would still prefer it if we located him first."
"So would I," I sighed, "But I doubt it will happen. You know how few buoys that area has, and if Cessa is employing him she might have her people lose any employment offers he gets sent."
She grimaced, throwing back the last of her drink. "True. Time?"
I glanced at the nearest wall, "They should be here any minute."
Her black lips twitched apart, showing ivory teeth before she controlled herself and schooled her expression. "Good. Deshi, wake up."
The third, and youngest, person sitting at our table gave my girlfriend an annoyed look, one hand reaching up to almost nervously run across the sparse hair growing on his jawline.
She scowled at him. "Don't look at me like that, young little keshin. I still don't know how you convinced your elder to give you the damned title."
He cocked his head, twitching his lips as his hand fell to the necklace hanging down to his armored chest. Eight Turian finger-claws clinked against the ceramic and metal as he did, the sound more than audible in the quiet space.
"Keelah but I'd forgotten how annoying you can be even with your mouth shut." Voya's eyes narrowed further, "How does Terro put up with you?"
Deshi shrugged, shrank a little in his chair as he realized that all of the troopers present were clearly listening in, and still didn't say anything.
I could only sigh, reaching for my small glass and sipping from the smooth Caribbean rum it held. I'd have been more worried about him if I didn't know how lethal of a combat engineer the young man was, in spite of his almost painfully shy personality. About the only thing that could bring him out of it was a round of shop-talk, and then you'd have the opposite problem: getting him to shut up about his VI's, drones, and other custom gear was damned near impossible.
Before Voya could keep needling him, the airlock and only exit to the room hissed and clicked, cycling as someone came through.
Everyone, Deshi included, straightened slightly. The three of us that were sitting lowered hands beneath the table, grasping weapons, while the soldiers standing around the edges of the room or sitting at the bar casually shifted to not-quite-aim carbines and shotguns towards the door.
They actually aimed at it as the door opened, and an absolute bear of a man stepped inside. He was only an inch or two under six feet, absolutely titanic for a Quarian, and his plain gray armor and suit seemed to be struggling to contain his musculature. He bore a short-barreled shotgun on either hip, had the stock of a rifle poking above his left shoulder, and a wickedly curved blade on his belt. Rather than a necklace, he bore his trophies bandolier-style, needle-like Batarian teeth alternating with what looked like delicate Asari finger bones, and his footfalls all but echoed as he walked into the room
"Chi. Roa." His voice as deep as his body shape would suggest, and if he cared that fifteen men and women were aiming weapons at him, he didn't show it.
"Malir." Voya replied, her voice all the lighter in comparison to his baritone. "Sit. Drink?"
There was a deep grunt as he reached up to pull his helmet off. His hair was cropped short, a direct contrast to the long styles I'd seen nearly every other Terminus Quarian favoring, and even his beard was merely white stubble across his lower face. "Brandy."
While one of the engineers behind the bar got to work on that, the new arrival casually crossed the room, dropping into the chair beside Deshi. His glowing eyes glanced over the younger man, then over Voya, noticeably focused on their necklaces. After a few moments of inspection he turned his attention to me, broad features pulling into a frown as he did. "What's with the human and his lackeys? The High Elder's message said this was internal business."
Voya's eyes narrowed a little, "It will be explained when the others arrive."
Malir'cosa vas Xentha grunted, "Suppose I can't bitch, at least he gave you seniority over that kolsha Halia."
Deshi seemed to wince at the very idea, and Voya shook her head irritably, though neither of them said anything in reply. Malir accepted his drink when it arrived, and then fell as quiet as Deshi though his eyes continued to flick around, taking in the soldiers now surrounding him.
Thankfully it didn't take long before guest number two arrived, the airlock cycling once again. Another Quarian male stepped out as it finished, his armor red and noticeably more battered than Malir's. He stutter-stepped at the sight of everyone, then let out a soft curse as a hand fell to his belt.
He was closer to average in build and height than the prior arrival, maybe five seven, broad at the shoulders but slim at the waist. For weaponry he had a large caliber sniper rifle riding on his back, and his fingers were already curling around a Batarian made pistol on his left hip. Disc-shaped grenades hung off of his belt, along with blockier packages that were easily recognizable as explosives. His necklace was noticeably spare compared to the others, containing only a pair of Krogan crest shards along with a trio of stained Turian claws.
"Reszad." This time Voya's voice was little more than a dangerous growl, her own hands noticeably below the table's edge. "Sit."
Reszad'sesh vas Antiva clearly didn't want to, but also seemed intelligent enough to know he didn't really have a choice at this point. Making a point to slowly pull his hand away from his weapon, he only started forwards once the guards had lowered their weapons. Even so, he noticeably kept his battered helmet in place as he reluctantly settled down beside Malir, going so far as to polarize his visor to prevent us from seeing where his glowing eyes were looking.
Most of the attention in the room noticeably fell upon him as a result, and a tense silence filled the place for the handful of minutes it took for the fifth and last trophy taker currently on station to arrive.
Vorcha-teeth anklets clattered as she strode cockily out of the airlock, not so much as pausing at the sight of everyone waiting for her, metallic chimes from the dog-tags hung around her neck joining the noise. She was about Voya's height, with about the same overall build... though Voya would never have been caught dead in the bright teal armor that the other woman was wearing. The coloration was bright enough that it was almost easy to miss the pistol and SMG that she had on either side of her belt, and, like Reszad, it was easy to see that she had plenty of explosives on her.
"Hah!" Her voice was almost wickedly merry as she approached, paying the soldiers no more attention than Malir had. "I knew it!"
There was a quiet sigh from Voya, echoed by a much deeper one from Malir. I blinked and glanced between them just as the former spoke, "I see your sense in fashion hasn't improved, Halia."
"And I," Halia'kul vas Antiva replied, "See yours hasn't either. Honestly, navy and silver? They don't do anything for your coloration."
"Halia." Malir rumbled darkly, "Sit down so we can get this over with."
Her head cocked to one side as she reached the table. "Malir... and Reszad. Here I was hoping that even Omega had some standards about who they'd let on station."
Malir's mouth twitched while Reszad noticeably tensed in anger, though Deshi surprisingly beat either of them to the punch. The young man growled softly, jerking a hand towards the empty seat before his normally soft voice snapped out. "Shut up and sit down."
Halia turned slightly to regard him more properly, her gleaming eyes narrowed behind her armored mask. "Little Deshi'roa... finally found a spine, did you?"
While the young man bristled, it was Voya who actually moved. She didn't say anything, instead simply rising to her feet in a single smooth motion that left both of her hands planted on the table as she glared at the other woman.
Halia'kul didn't quite flinch, but she did go still for a long breath before exhaling heavily through her helmet. After another silent moment she irritably reached up to yank it off, revealing long hair done up in a bun to fit beneath the protection, and features a bit more comely than Voya's.
"Fine." She muttered, forked tongue flicking over her lips as she took the chair. "None of you ever let me have fun."
"There," Malir dipped his head towards Voya in silent thanks, "Is a very good reason for that. We ready to get this over with then?"
"Yes." Voya exhaled, remaining standing. "Do I have to waste my breath explaining why we're all here?"
Reszad let out an annoyed sound, "Yes, because what the fuck is that human even doing here? This is an Taker's matter, a Quarian one, and-"
"Please." Halia all but hissed, having already shifted her chair far closer to me than to him. "You hardly qualify as Quarian, and it's obvious isn't it? Chi is going to lay down the law, his law, in specific. Let me guess," Her head swung around to let her regard me without any real expression, "We're to not hunt any of those 'New Cerberus' creeps, or those black and red armored commandos you've been sheltering, or any of yours?"
I felt my mouth twitch a little as I found myself liking her already. "Essentially."
While she rolled her eyes and sighed, Reszad all but surged to his feet. "What!? Chi, is this your idea of a-"
Malir, without so much as looking away from where his eyes were fixed on me, snapped a brawny arm up, seized the smaller man by the shoulder, and all but slammed his ass back into his seat. Ignoring the startled sound of pain from his victim, his deep rumble of a voice emerged, "Obviously this is serious, that is why we are surrounded by combat veterans who will kill us if we continue to disrespect their Director."
"I don't care if you do or don't respect me," My head shook as I spoke, "They're here to prevent any misunderstandings, nothing more."
The broad features pulled into a frown, then he seemed to grunt as the wave hit the beach. "Ah. Sensible, your hair would make a rather respectable trophy."
My fingers twitched a little closer to the pistol on my belt, though I thought that I managed to not show any other reaction. Trying to ignore the unsettling comment as best I could after that, I returned to the primary topic, "Miss Kul is essentially correct."
Malir continued to regard me, speaking over Reszad even as he tried to bitch again, "And why should we believe that you have power over us?"
Voya handled that, "Because, by the current projections, the Blades will be the second largest employer of our people after the Lady within the next standard year. The High Elder is extending a portion of the courtesy that we give to T'Ravt to the Blades' Director as a result."
That drew a round of surprised noises from the three non-Blades present, though it was Halia who spoke next, "Interesting. I hadn't thought that your growth was that exceptional."
My lover shrugged, "Second only to Bluewind Securities over the past two years, at least in absolute numbers. Our recent contracts have enabled us to build up a rather significant war chest, and we intend to invest it."
If nothing else, we certainly had Malir's intention, "In the District?"
"Only partially. Most of it is going to our existing compounds." Voya corrected, "And to build up our new facility on Redcliffe."
The colony's name nearly drew a grimace to my features. I'd known that Ayle had been negotiating hard with T'Ravt for the rights to establish a complex there long before we'd even adjusted our internal organization, but I hadn't really expected her to succeed. Ayle being Ayle, she hadn't merely succeeded, she'd gone well above and fucking beyond. In addition to the rights to establish a military complex on planet, she'd convinced the Lady to all but give us fucking Hintertown and the rusting base that Mascal had once directed his planetary campaign from.
There was, of course, an angle; Redcliffe was all but in open rebellion against T'Ravt outside of Capital City and it's surrounding region. She'd given that to the former slaves of the world in a bid to establish their loyalty and create a new ruling class, but it had backfired when the oppressed had gone all-in on becoming the new oppressors far more quickly than she'd probably planned. With a lot of her military already bogged down dealing with other garrison matters in the territory she'd taken from Ganar, she'd decided to bring in both us and Bluewind Securities. They would take the southern continent, while we handled the northern.
The basic plan, such as it currently was, would see both essentially become the local branch of her military and tasked with suppressing the resistance. Our own plan was to try and handle that by hiring the more open-minded of them away, just as we had most of Zaen's old militia. Of course that would still have tens of thousands too stubborn to take us up on the offer, and they'd still have to be dealt with one way or the other.
The Xenthan Branch was thusly sending three of their four brigades, fifteen full regiments, to the planet to get to work on the Lady's payroll. They would probably stay there long-term, be joined by whatever regiments Idas managed to raise from Redcliffe, and would leave a gap in our planned Traverse deployments as a result. Further, where we'd once had difficulties in selecting acceptable recruits from the volume of applicants, these days we were getting perilously close to having the opposite problem.
Illium Minor was effectively tapped out, as was Omega in general, since the various other lessers were all hiring and were far less discriminating than we were. We'd never drawn many recruits from the Traverse, and those numbers had only dropped as the more piratical and less pragmatic elements of the Terminus had relocated during and after the last war. Nynsi wasn't helping when it came to the Hegemony, with her isolated branch absorbing a large number of exiled Traditionalists eager to use their membership as a loophole to return home... and the competition on Xentha with Bluewave and the Ragged Fang was becoming fierce. As a result, our last few months had seen a steady shift towards Asari-dominant recruiting classes, as we were one of the few foreign groups that Sederis allowed to operate on her worlds.
"We intend," I exhaled, "With the High Elder's permission, to begin a major recruiting drive in the Old District, the Marches, Kalica, and in Vacua City on Antiva. Combat and support positions, wages are steady regardless of species. In exchange, we will be arranging war games between the Guard and those units still on Xentha, as well as lowering our profit margin on any supplies our sub-corporations sell to the Guard."
Malir grunted. "How low?"
"Depends on what it is," I shrugged, "Down to one or two percent, for the most part."
Halia hummed softly, "You get recruits and protection, we get Illium-made weapons and armor, plus a bit of training. Not a bad little deal."
Evidently, Reszad disagreed, "Not a bad deal? Are you insane? You know what this asshole's policies are, he's going to gut the Guard to fill his own ranks!"
Voya game him a scathing look, "You think the Elders are so stupid? Our admin team is still trying to work through the mountain of datafiles and rules that those old fools sent us."
"And," Deshi spoke softly, "That isn't the main point today."
There was a deep grunt from Malir, "Chi, you've got the seal?"
In response Voya carefully pulled a small tablet up from where it had been sitting in her lap, and pushed it across the table. The large man reached out and took it, his eyes focusing as he quickly read through the only file on the device. Halia waited patiently on my left, but Reszad was practically quivering in impatience.
"It's official." He rumbled eventually, "Sesh, you're to abandon your pursuit of the Salarian."
"What!?" The exclamation came as hands ripped the tablet away, the other Taker's upper lip curling away from his teeth as he frantically read. "This is... no! The Salarian isn't even a member of the Blades!"
Halia stirred slightly in her chair, and something about her abrupt focus on Reszad reminded me of a shark sighting in on prey, though he was too occupied fuming to notice.
"The Elder," Malir replied flatly, "Is extending the Director a courtesy. It's not your place to argue, bosh'tet."
"Then I'll contact my own elders!" Reszad spat, "And why the fuck should we have to leave those psychopathic monkeys alone as well? The Blades, fine, fucking hate it, but fine! But they aren't the Lady, this... this... courtesy is too fucking far!"
Voya's eyes narrowed, her shoulders lowering as if she was getting ready to leap over the table. "Are you going to refuse a direct order from the High Elder?"
Reszad glared right back at her, "Was this approved by the combined elders? Because I don't think they'll be happy to hear that that doddering old keshin-"
Halia all but exploded out of her seat before he could finish the insult, having apparently gathered her feet beneath her on the chair. It went flying back as she vaulted the table, striking Reszad in a full body tackle that carried them both to the floor before the soldiers around us could get their weapons in line.
I snapped a hand up before any of them could start shooting, noting that Malir had merely turned his head to watch the struggle. A quick glance at Voya saw her upper lip pulled back from her teeth in a display of utter annoyance, her body practically vibrating in place as she forced herself to remain seated.
"She's his niece." I glanced at Deshi as he spoke, his voice barely audible over the two takers now rolling around on the floor, both trying to stop the other from drawing a weapon even as they beat on each other. Reszad's sniper rifle went flying off to a corner, Halia's sub-machine gun going in the opposite direction a moment later. "The High Elder's, I mean."
"Ah." I responded. "Doesn't like her uncle being insulted then?"
"No." Malir replied, calmly sipping from his brandy as if nothing was happening. "She doesn't. Fool should have known better than to lose his temper, she's been waiting for an excuse for years."
I lifted an eyebrow, glancing at the fight again. Reszad had managed to draw his pistol only to have it knocked out of his hands, though he threw a vicious punch into her elbow that saw Halia yelp and drop the knife her own free hand had pulled out from behind her back. "I didn't know you were allowed to kill each other over insults?"
Malir's lips twitched, "We aren't, but brawls over the honor of a family aren't uncommon however, particularly between Antivans."
"And," Voya added, her voice low and hot. "Accidents happen."
An apparent accident was currently occurring nearby, Halia managing to worm her way behind Reszad before using some trick to unlock the armored collar around his neck. His frantic efforts to struggle free redoubled, but she took his blows with snarls of pain even as she wrapped an arm around his neck. Ridiculously strong Quarian legs snapped tight around his torso, pinning his arms in place, stopping him from throwing elbows into her or grabbing a grenade from his belt.
A professional can choke someone out in seconds, and kill them not long after.
Halia made him suffer.
The twitching began to slow after a minute, and ceased altogether after two. She kept her hold on for a good four minutes, during which I waved for one of the soldiers to refill all of our glasses. Only after that she was very sure that Reszad wasn't waking up did Halia let go, pushing him aside before rolling to straddle his body. His helmet was ripped away with a few moments worth of work.
She leaned over his face for a moment, her body blocking what her hands were doing. A moment later there was a harsh twist of her torso, and when she stood up I could see a bloody canine in her fingers.
"Finished?" Malir asked.
"Yes." The woman purred, her voice purring with the same low, almost lustful tones that Voya would lapse into after indulging in violence. "I've been wanting to do that since we were children."
I lifted an eyebrow, my own words coming out dry. "Try not to sound so satisfied."
She let out a wicked little laugh as she approached the table, tucking her little trophy away into a pouch on her belt. "I think I could like you, human. What's next? A job offer, I'm assuming, you wouldn't have met with us in person for something as minor as a message."
My lips twitched again as she sat down. Dangerous and intelligent, I rather liked that combination. "Something like that."
Voya gave me an annoyed look, exhaling sharply through her petite nose as she glanced between the two takers. "The offer is going to be open."
That seemed to get Malir's attention, "You want more of your commando teams... your Lancers." When I nodded, he did the same, clearly turning the idea over in his head. "Restrictions?"
"The same as any other employee." I informed him seriously, "You'd be expected to follow orders, and to not risk yourselves merely to claim a trophy. I don't care if you do pick up a few during an engagement; just don't risk yourselves or others. You'll also likely not be on all-Quarian teams, I don't care to divide along species lines."
He frowned slightly. "Who would they be ordered around by?"
"Myself, usually." I replied, "The Director is going to retain control of the teams, though I do occasionally subordinate them to various regimental commanders on an ad-hoc basis as the missions may require it."
"Whatever." Halia cut in before he could, "What's the pay?"
I told her.
Her eyes widened sharply, "That's... what? Monthly?"
Voya smirked, "Bi-weekly."
She made a choking sound, leaving Malir to glance at Voya and Deshi. "That what you both are making?"
"I make more." Deshi offered quietly, "She makes a lot more. Veteran raises."
"Combat bonuses?"
The younger man shook his head, "None, part of why the base salary is so high."
"Interested?" I asked, feeling as though the question was rhetorical.
Malir pursed his lips, then twitched a broad shoulder in a shrug. "Yes, but I have other affairs to resolve, and I would prefer to observe for a time before committing. I will carry your offer to those others I am on speaking terms with."
"All I can ask." I bowed my head slightly, glancing at Halia. "And you?"
"I... want some paperwork first." She hedged, but there was a distinctly avaricious gleam in her glowing eyes. "Organization chart, regs, that kind of thing."
"Of course. You can accompany us back to Illium Minor if you wish, I'll have someone get that ready for you."
There was a nod as our meeting came to a natural conclusion. Malir departed first, pulling his helmet on before heading through the airlock alone. We gave him his space, everyone else replacing their own headgear before one of the troopers overrode the airlock to stand open for us.
Our little group filed out in order, with the half-squad of combat engineers electing to move out in front in close order while the full squad of line soldiers formed up in a double-line behind us. The formation plunged into the packed environs of the club, and from the quiet mutters I heard in my ear-piece, the engineers quickly began to regret volunteering to take point as the crowd protested being pushed back.
We left Reszad's corpse behind, Aria's people would deal with it, and whatever gear he'd had on him would work as their tip for doing so.
"So." Halia's voice came across our helmet communications after Voya connected her, our movements held up by a pair of Krogan engaged in a headbutting contest at the top of the nearest stairwell. "Why can't we kill the excess?"
"I need them alive." I replied blandly.
She scoffed, "Not even a hint?"
"I just gave you one."
That drew a snort, her helmet swinging to glance at Voya. "First Leski, now him. You do know how to pick them."
My metaphorical ears perked up as Voya let out a startled hiss. "Halia."
"Oh calm down." The other woman waved a blood-covered hand in an airy fashion. "It was a compliment. Unless... oh keelah, you haven't told the heir yet, have you? He's still single."
"No." She replied shortly, her body language screaming that Halia should drop the topic.
"Going to be a mess." A shrug, "Just saying."
Reaching up to my helmet, I shifted to our private frequency. "Voya?"
"Nothing you need to worry about."
Her tone didn't exactly give me confidence, and I sighed. "The rich kid you had picked out before Omega?"
Her fingers twitched. "Cieran. Drop it."
I pursed my lips, but this wasn't exactly the place for that kind of discussion. Exhaling irritably, I made a show of nodding before switching back to the general channel to change the subject.
"So." I asked as several of the club's bouncers finally reached the brawling Krogan. One of them was an Elcor, and he wasted little time in simply bowling the idiots aside and booming out declarations of their idiocy. "You two know each other?"
"Most takers do." Halia replied, not apparently caring that we'd briefly cut her out of the conversation. "But yes, this little kolsha and I did our time in the Lady's army together. I helped her figure out how to actually use a sniper rifle. She worked me through the first tier of blade dancing in exchange."
Voya scoffed, "For all the good it apparently did. Keelah, watching you flail around on the floor was agonizing."
The other woman's tones became annoyed as we got moving again, filing down the now-cleared stairwell, "Not all of us can be blessed by the ancestors when it comes to close combat."
"Is that going to be your excuse when even our recruits can beat you senseless?"
"You're being awfully fucking rude, considering I hardly ever tell the story of your first day as an officer."
There was an almost hissing snarl, "That weapon was sabotaged."
I could only shake my head and stay out of it, half-listening as the two argued about various incidents from their time in the Lady Warlord's army, half-people watching as we descended another level, then headed for the main stairwell that would lead us to the closest exit.
A soft curse was my first warning, making my back straighten as the low voice of the engineer's Half-Squad Leader interrupted Halia. "Director, Ha'diq ul Shinvec is just ahead. He's seen us and is moving to block the stairwell."
"Athame's..." I cut off my own curse, "Entourage?"
"At least a dozen, maybe more." The Batarian reported as our lead formation slowed to a stop, the usual crowd of partiers quickly backing away as they sensed the imminent confrontation. "Orders?"
I rapidly considered our options. As much as I would have loved to kill the keshin, Afterlife was not the place to start a shoot out with a rival Warlord. Aria would kill us both, slowly, and while Shinvec was slaving scum, he wasn't stupid slaving scum. He wanted to talk... the question was, about what, and how civil he would be during said conversation.
"Split apart by half-squads, cover both flanks and the rear. Fire only if fired upon, regardless of provocation." I ordered, leaving it to them to work out the division of labor. "Voya, on my left. Deshi, Halia, stay back with the rear-guard."
The last Quarian made an annoyed sound, probably because I was already giving her orders, but she didn't otherwise complain and fell back a bit as Voya and I accelerated just enough to take the lead.
Ahead of us, Shinvec likewise separated from his people, with only a single Turian shadowing his steps. Both were in heavy armor painted in a matte gray, a pair of blood colored chevrons acting as the icon for the slaver's organization, and both had the sense to have their helmets on.
Afterlife might have technically been neutral ground, but no one with any sense took chances. Plus the goddess-damned air in here was so loaded with drugs that it probably qualified as a chemical weapon.
"Kean." Shinvec's smooth voice emerged from his helmet, the Batarian male crossing his arms high on chest as he lowered his chin to the right.
"Shinvec." I replied equally as flatly, matching his posture exactly. "What do you want?"
"I want many things... your head on a pike for one." He offered conversationally, "But alas, the Pillars have yet to guide me to that path."
"They haven't led me to the means to kill you without Aria noticing either." I exhaled heavily between my teeth, making my annoyance clear. "Get out of the way."
"There are five other stairs leading to the main floor." The ass sounded amused, "Feel free to use another."
And back down, admit that he'd held me back? It was a petty little thing, stupid really, but the last thing I wanted was to give him even the slightest bit of confidence. "I'm rather set on the one behind you."
Shinvec twitched an armored shoulder, "Then we seem to be an impasse, for I am disinclined to move."
"I assumed as much, and now you're making me repeat myself. What do you want?"
He made an obnoxious show of considering it for several moments before responding, "What brought you out from your little hole? You normally refuse to associate with our queen except for those times she demands your presence."
There were very good reasons for that. "And you think I'll actually give you an answer? Have you been imbibing too many of your own products?"
"Breaking in too many new pets maybe." He replied conversationally, "Perhaps I'm going soft, I really should just brand them and let the clientele handle it."
Anger abruptly crested somewhere inside my chest, and I felt my body shift position to reflect it. "It must be difficult to handle all of that on your own, without your brother around. Or did you keep the skull that we mailed you? Such a failure of leadership, letting him go with on the raid to New Canton when you had to know that we had a regiment there..."
The Batarian Warlord lowered his shoulders, his chin likewise dropping as his own veneer of control came close to snapping. "I haven't forgotten that, monkey."
"Good." I replied, "The point of it was to be memorable, I'd have had to break out the video of what we did to him if you'd become so asinine as to have forgotten. Nel was very... creative, and quite good at keeping him alive and conscious."
His fists shook, and his Turian guard was clearly itching to grab his weapon, but both restrained the urge.
"One day, one very fine, Pillars' blessed day, you will die in agony, and your transgressions against my faith will be cleared. On that day, I'm going to find that purple skinned Asari bitch and... chastise her." He sucked in a sharp breath, seeming to regain some measure of control, "I have a new collar, you see. Applies chemical inhibitors that can prevent Asari from melding while the usual systems control their biotics. I will use that little whore, break her."
My helmet stopped him from seeing my sneer, but I made sure it came across in my posture. "I'll believe that when I see it."
A vicious little laugh came from him, "I have ample video evidence, monkey, I'll be sure to send it to you. Perhaps the stars will be little maidens, like your daughter."
It was my turn to nearly lose my self control, the implied threat that he would rape and enslave Erana causing my hand to stray towards my pistol before I fought back the urge. Voya's self control was clearly wearing thin on my left, her fingers clenching and unclenching, and behind me I could see more than a few of my soldiers clearly fighting the urge to shoot the asshole on my behalf.
Before our mixture of threats and insults could devolve further, or turn into actual violence, a furious Turian voice cut across the low beat of the club's music.
"That is enough." I snapped my attention to the left as Nyreen Kandros, her body swathed in armor and red-colored robes that hid her ridiculous levels of cybernetics, stormed out of the crowd. A good two or three dozen of Aria's people followed her, and a glance up revealed more taking up spots on higher platforms. "Spirits but I have even less patience for your little rivalry than normal."
Shinvec bristled visibly, while I exhaled through my teeth and forced my hands behind my back, falling into an at-rest position.
The former leader of the Talons, now Aria's de-facto second in command, waited to see if either of us would speak. When we weren't that stupid, she let out a flanging growl and resumed, "Shinvec, get your ass back down to Tuhi and finish the preparations. The first warlords will be arriving soon, and since your docks are going to handle the early arrivals Aria won't tolerate excuses."
His head twitched into something like a nod, and then he turned to all but storm down the stairs. The guards and soldiers he'd brought with trailed after him, hateful glances translating even through their visors as they did. My people were disciplined enough to not taunt them as they departed, though I did see a few offering rude gestures in ways that stopped Nyreen from catching them.
"And you," Said Turian rounded on me, "Aria let you use that room as a courtesy, but if you're going to pick fights with everyone who doesn't abide by your rules you're going to have problems."
"I'm not stupid." I replied irritably, "I'd never break the One Rule. And you hate that fuck as much as I do."
Nyreen didn't dignify that with a response, instead simply crossing her arms. "Is Illium Minor prepared to handle the incoming?"
"Yes." I growled, not at all happy about the reminder. "It's still weeks out, you don't have to keep harping on it."
"Considering who is going to be docking there?" She replied, "I'll be asking you every shift just to make sure you aren't going to try and get out of it."
My upper lip twitched back from my teeth, but I managed to nod. "We'll be ready to host them."
"Good." A clawed hand waved, "Now get out of here before you almost start another war."
We did so, heading down the same stairs that Shinvec had taken, though I kept my pace slow enough to make sure that the ass stayed well ahead of us. He wouldn't try anything, not now that Nyreen had made it abundantly clear that Aria was watching us closely, but his people might not have his level of self-control. Or intelligence.
"He really does hate slavers, doesn't he?" Halia reminded me that she was with by speaking up.
"He does." Voya replied, "Though we haven't had as many chances to kill them lately."
"Shame." The other woman sighed, "That's always a pleasant way to spend a week or two. What was that bit at the end, about the incoming?"
"The campaign." I pursed my lips. "As many ships are gathering here as are heading for Stormwall. They'll follow it up with leave, strategy shit, and a bunch of other crap that's going to make this station too bloody crowded before they go off to fight Geth."
Her tones became annoyed. "I know all of that crap, I meant why are you so annoyed about it? Everyone is eager for the payday... I mean, keelah, didn't you get assigned the detachment that the Lady is sending? They'll have more than enough cash to buck up your economy a bit. Better than getting some two-bit Salarian core-ward slaver."
That was only partially true. I could have probably gotten away with shooting the slaver if they annoyed me, and Aria might not have cared all that much if I played my cards right. I couldn't, however, shoot the Admiral commanding the task force that Lady T'Ravt was loaning to the campaign.
I'd given her my word that I wouldn't kill her, after all.
"It's complicated." I replied shortly. "If you actually do join today, we can discuss it at a bar after I've had at least three drinks."
There was an almost amused purr to her voice, "I do love a good story... can we walk any faster? The sooner I review the details the sooner you can pay me. And buy me drinks."
Voya let out a very annoyed mewling sound, one that I partially echoed as I felt the day grow even longer.
Dammit... I really hoped that Shepard and Lawson were as irritated as I was.
Imperfect Glass
Date: 08-19-2186
Location: Freedom's Progress, Attican Traverse
EDI's avatar smoothly guided our Kodiak shuttle down towards the colony's only starport, giving us time to observe the ground as the craft ahead of us hunted for landing spots. There were plenty available, all raised platforms above broken ground, connected by catwalks and ramps.
Shepard's team had taken one of Kean's messenger pinnaces, the large, boxy craft settling down onto one of the larger platforms as its maneuvering fins swung sideways. Nearby, two Batarian built shuttles only a little larger than our own began their own landings, clearly aiming to flank the pinnace on either side.
Either to protect the Spectre's flanks, or to make sure they were in place to keep eyes on her.
"There." I instructed from the co-pilot's seat, "Put us down next to Shepard."
"Yes Miss Lawson." The AI replied, thankfully not offering any of the snark that EVA had begun indulging in. "I am not detecting any movement below, however there is an anomaly on platform nine."
Pursing my lips, I flicked my eyes around until I located the landing area in question. A bizarrely shaped vessel was perched there, a rotating wheel bisected by a rectangular core that featured engines protruding from one end and a glass bridge from the other. The contours were battered, pitted, worn, but someone had gone through the effort of repainting the ship, clearly making a dedicated effort to make it a bit more presentable.
"Noril class." I murmured, frowning at it. "What is a Migrant courier doing here?"
"Unknown." EDI hummed as she brought us down behind Shepard's pinnace, metal fingers moving across the controls with inhuman speed to put the craft into stand-by mode.
Leaving it...her to handle that, I rose from my seat and headed into the shuttle's rear. Jacob, clad in heavy armor sans helmet, glanced up as I did. Like my own lighter gear, it was painted a matte black with orange highlights, but lacking any markings or logos that would reveal just who we were.
"Ready?" I asked, sure I knew the answer.
"Of course." He replied, rising to his feet, hands offering the rifle he'd been holding. I accepted it, checking it before collapsing the weapon and racking it on my back before double-checking the Phalanx I had on my belt. While I did that, he turned around and retrieved his own arms from the locker beside the bench; his own Harrier, a heavily modified Katana shotgun, and a massive M-560 Hydra missile launcher.
"Hope we don't have use this." He admitted, carefully positioning the weapon on his own back.
"As do I." I replied.
Perhaps thirty seconds later, EDI emerged, her synthetic body hidden beneath her own armor and helmet, weapons that matched my own already secured to the appropriate locations.
"All right." I spoke, not yet opening the hatch. "Remember, we are here on Shepard's suffrage. Obey her orders unless it is clear that we are being sacrificed to allow others to survive. EDI, I want you to monitor the Blades' communications. They will likely be operating under the same premise, but I believe it possible that they may keep evidence to themselves if they think they can get away with it."
Jacob snorted. "And even if they can't."
I pursed my lips a little. "Jacob, do try to not antagonize them. The marines may lack Kean's tolerance and restraint."
His handsome face twisted in distaste, but he nodded before pulling his helmet on. "I'll be civil if they are."
They wouldn't be, and we both knew it... but I also knew that I wasn't going to get anything better from him. Jacob was a good man, but even he had his weaknesses. An inability to tolerate the darker elements of the galaxy, even peripherally, was one of them. It was part of what had made him one of the best field agents that the Corsairs had ever had, given him the drive to always accomplish his objectives, to always rescue those believed lost.
Unfortunately he wasn't a Corsair anymore, and he was too skilled for me to simply send him to Peregrine to help organize things. I needed his tactical awareness, his abilities with weaponry, the... paranoia he showed about everything little thing that our 'allies' said or did. He hated it, and I didn't like using him like that, but it was necessary.
The memory of Harper saying such a thing on numerous occasions made a little serpent of self-loathing rise up before I could throttle it, and I wasted a few seconds ruthlessly pushing it back down. Now wasn't the time for introspection.
"Let's go." I instructed, keeping my voice cool and even, the heavy door swinging upwards at the press of a button.
They followed as I stepped outside, the cold wind of the colony promptly cutting across my face. I scowled at the sensation, pulling my helmet off of my belt and putting it into its proper place. The HUD updated as it connected to my armor and omni-tool, icons flashing as it automatically linked to Shepard's own command network, showing me the positions of all six of her people and the status of their gear.
In contrast, the Blades remained mostly hidden, their paranoid dismissal of modern info-warfare techniques evident. I supposed I could understand it, given the environments they typically worked in, but it made working with them irritatingly difficult.
"Lawson." Shepard's black helmet swung in my direction as we approached, the red striping on her team done in the same style as my orange. With any luck, any observers would simply assume the colors to be squad markers. "We haven't picked up any signs of life, but there are still some kind of active signals moving around the colony."
I frowned, "EDI?"
The mech went still for three seconds, then shook her head, "There are no active transmissions on any frequency. Whatever is mobile is not communicating."
"Damn." The Commander muttered, "Mechs maybe? With their radio's disabled?"
My frown deepened. "That would be extremely inefficient. Whoever runs them won't be able to update their commands or direct them, except perhaps through direct voice commands."
"Inefficient." Shepard agreed quietly, "But if someone hacked your network, and you were panicking... that might have been their only option."
"Point." I admitted with a grimace, "Plan?"
She exhaled, "We'll have to assume they're hostile until proven otherwise, and that we might not be alone here. You saw the Quarian ship?" When I nodded, she continued, "I'm going to have the marines from the Dusk Blade secure this area and watch our way out. The rest of us, plus the squad from the Will'o'wisp, will head with us towards the colony's command center."
"As one group?"
A quick shake of her head, "We're here for evidence and I want maximum coverage. We'll split by teams, take four adjacent roads. I want your team on the left."
I nodded, bringing up a map onto my omni-tool. She quickly pointed out the road that she wanted us on, the meandering route looking to be fairly narrow and enclosed, though possessing plenty of side streets and alleys that would let us link up with the others if we had to. The Silver Blades marines arrived in the middle of the impromptu briefing, and quickly received their own tasks. They complied with no arguments, but also without offering any opinions either.
Shepard didn't take up that much more time, quickly getting everyone going as soon as she was sure we all were clear on our objective and plan.
Entering the colony proper was a new experience, and one that I could have quite done without.
We moved into the first few buildings to check them over quickly, which proved to inspire more tension even as it failed to provide any answers. Plates of breakfast sat cold on tables, most of them half-eaten. Nearby chairs were thrown back, silverware often scattered about with smaller pieces of food, which painted a rather bleak picture when combined with the occasional weapon kept near chairs or doors.
They'd had enough time to see whatever was coming for them, to panic... but not enough time to reach weapons often not more than a meter away.
"EDI?" I asked quietly.
The artificial intelligence didn't need me to elaborate further. "There is no overt evidence. Assuming the colonists were within human averages, whatever subdued them did so within three seconds. Presuming that the weapons were not replaced after being drawn."
Three seconds... Christ. "Check them. Jacob?"
He stepped back into the kitchen from the hall leading to the bedrooms, "Nothing. One room might have been a kid's, blankets are in a corner. Think something else threw them off of whoever was in there."
My imagination helpfully provided the image of a young child, hearing their parents shout, hiding beneath their blankets... and then having a monster tear them off.
I sucked in a slow, hard breath. "We need to continue moving."
They fell in without a word, EDI merely storing the information, showing her growing wisdom. We departed the building, falling into our standard formation. EDI and I took either side of the street, moving in short sprints from one piece of cover to another. Jacob stayed on my side, staying two spots back to provide cover for either of us.
We made it another block, finding nothing but more empty prefabricated buildings that I didn't care to go into, before the first questions came across our comms.
"Sergeant Holt." Shepard's voice was low and furious. "Was Novgorod like this?"
The Squad Leader paused noticeably before answering, possibly annoyed that she didn't use the Blades version of his rank, possibly choosing his words carefully before replying.
"Similar." The Batarian replied eventually. "There are fewer signs of battle here, likely meaning that there were few or no non-humans present."
"Next to none." I confirmed, joining the conversation, "This was a major recruiting hub for Cerberus. They tolerated the occasional Quarian and Volus, but only as visitors or business envoys, and no others."
Tora ul Holt grunted. "Morons... wait one. We've got a destroyed Geth up ahead."
I sucked in a sharp breath, though Shepard beat me to the question, "Evidence of what took it out?"
"Security mechs." He provided after a moment. "There's three in pieces near it. Two LOKI's, something that might have been a HL-20."
A little bit of tension eased out of me. "Local security probably, they had a sizable number of both types."
Shepard made an affirming sound, "Be alert for active units, that may explain the power sources. Lawson, did they have anything heavier?"
Thoughts shifted as I filed through my memory, mental papers rustling. "At least a detachment of heavy mechs, eight YMIR's according to our last report, but those should be positioned at the militia towers around the perimeter."
There was a low curse in Khar'tok before Holt spoke again, "We're approaching colonial tower two, I'm sending my sniper and engineer up to look for movement."
It was Shepard's turn to pause, words coming out almost reluctantly, "Very well. Garrus, Lawson, continue on."
We both confirmed that, and my team's pace noticeably slowed as a result. EDI's sensors were top of the line, the best that could be fitted to the slim, humanoid body, but they were still rather limited. Especially as we hadn't been able to deploy a proper satellite network above the world, and the one that the colonists had setup was noticeable for its absence.
Our first evidence came in around the fifth block, as we started to come across destroyed mechs and shredded Geth. There were far more of the former than the latter, and I didn't need EDI's analyzation suites to notice that a few of the mechs seemed to have been shot by the others rather than by Geth. Whoever had re-programmed them had done so in a rush, probably resetting the IFF sensors down to the barest levels. The various models had likely started engaging each other... possibly along with anything else that happened to be mobile.
I found more evidence for that in the next street, a poor dog clearly having been shot down by human built weapons rather than Geth plasma.
"Shepard." I commed her, "I have evidence that the mechs are engaging anything that moves, possibly including each other."
"Confirmed." She replied shortly, "We have evidence of another player, probably Quarians. Full squad of mechs downed at the intersection of fifth and blue."
My eyes flicked to the map on my HUD, and I pursed my lips as I realized that Shepard was already two blocks ahead of us. Kean evidently hadn't been exaggerating when he'd warned me about her propensity for getting too far ahead of her support.
Before I could join in, a shockingly young voice cut in on a priority line, a girl speaking English with a Batarian accent so thick that I needed to focus to pick out the content. "Nor' ease, can she laghts. Mechs ahttacking."
Distant sounds of gunfire echoed in the far distance, providing credence to her words even as Shepard demanded to know who was speaking.
"Victoria, my sniper." Holt provided, translating for the woman's futile attempt at being polite. "We have mechs engaging migrants two blocks north, one east. Base of tower four."
"All teams move." Shepard promptly snapped, "If anyone has answers, they'll have them. We secure their perimeter and join them."
Vakarian and I clicked our comms to indicate our understanding, while Holt informed her that he'd move as soon as his people got back down to the ground. At a gesture from me, EDI lengthened her strides, accelerating beyond even Turian ground speed as she tore off ahead of Jacob and I to act as a scout.
The sounds of gunfire, punctuated by the ionized shrieks of Flotilla weaponry, grew in volume as we moved, EDI beginning to rattle off the details without needing to pause for breath.
"There are nearly two dozen mechs, all LOKI models engaging approximately six Quarians. Two additional Quarians are dead on the ground. The others have secured on the ground floor of tower four and have established a kill zone." Her voice shifted, becoming directly audible as we drew closer. "Vakarian's team has already arrived. He has destroyed three mechs. Shepard's team is relocating to the north to establish enfilade fire."
I glanced at the map, noting that such a position would leave all three groups evenly spaced around the mechs, pinning them neatly against the Quarians' defenses. "We're less than a minute out."
"Confirmed." She replied.
We arrived at the small parking area at the base of the tower, my breathing still even, though I could hear Jacob's deepening a bit. He was more than merely in shape, but sprinting around in heavy armor with a missile launcher was a taxing chore for anyone. EDI's dark form was crouched behind an aircar, evidently still unnoticed by the mechs. From the sounds and reports now flooding the channel Shepard had already engaged, and the Blades' marines were a few minutes away from joining.
"Engage them, prioritize those closest to the Quarians." I instructed as I fell in behind the corner of a building, drawing my rifle and leaning around to aim.
Mechs were dropping at a steady rate, more heavily in the central zone than the flanks, Vakarian's rifle and Solus' grenades quickly driving the machines into two separate groups to be more readily destroyed. The LOKI models themselves seemed to have been vastly upgraded from their base programming, moving into what cover was available and firing from those positions.
They still weren't anything close to organics, or even Geth, they still remained mostly upright for example, but it was a definite step up from their usual behavior.
The skirmish, such as it was, didn't last very long. My Harrier, joined by my companions, quickly began to throw out heavy rounds that smashed into the machines. Primarily intended for low-key security operations, even slightly upgraded the mechs just weren't up for this level of engagement. Their armor more or less disintegrated beneath the incoming fire, shards of metal flying along with sparks as their electrical systems shorted out.
From the tower itself, the Quarians seemed to become invigorated now that they knew they weren't alone, additional torrents of technical mines, gunfire, electrical arcs, and streams of plasma screaming out to tear into the doomed mechs.
Within three minutes it was over, and Shepard was calmly approaching the tower, Vakarian beside her while the others moved to secure the area. I murmured orders for EDI and Jacob to do the same, then collapsed my weapon and moved to where the Spectre was already conversing with a female Quarian dressed...
I sucked in a sharp breath as I got a better look at her. Like most Migrants, she was far taller than the Xenthans and other Terminus races that I was used to dealing with with, her suit obviously far more advanced, and equipped to allow her to live entirely within it rather than merely intended to shelter her from time to time.
But what drew my attention was the burned and sheared cloth that had obviously once been an elegant outfit, clearly marked with the wicked white markings of the Xen family. The guards, and they were obviously the woman's guards, were similarly attired in actual clothing above their suits and armor, a luxury that Migrants almost never bothered with except on the most formal of occasions.
"...thank you." I arrived just as the Quarian finished thanking Shepard for our assistance, barely noticing the Blades' marines just arriving. "Though I cannot but wonder why you are here, Commander."
I grimaced. Shepard had introduced herself then, entirely violating Sparatus' orders to operate under an alias. Then again, the Flotilla wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the Council even during good years, and right now their cooperation with Aria and her ilk had seen relations bottom out entirely. It was entirely likely that claims of her survival by Migrants would be ignored or dismissed... assuming they bothered to offer the information in the first place.
"We're investigating the colonial disappearances." She provided, giving me a slight nod as I moved to stand quietly on her left. "Along with a few others. Would you mind introducing yourself, and filling me in as to why you are here?"
Glowing eyes blinked, then the woman actually sounded abashed as she gave a little bow. "Ah, my apologies. I am Maro'Xen, appointed negotiator between the Flotilla and this colony. It was to be a trade agreement of minor detail, though critical enough given what comes."
"Supplies." I murmured, joining the conversation. "Medigel I'm assuming, Freedom's Progress had two facilities for producing it. You upgraded their mech defenses in exchange?"
Maro'Xen glanced at me, then nodded slightly. "We have an engineering team along with, we were trying to locate them when the mechs encountered us."
My eyes narrowed slightly behind my visor, "And where were you during the primary attack?"
Her own gleaming orbs became slits. "Elsewhere, obviously. What are you implying?"
Shepard spoke before I could, her helmet turning to make her own glare clear. "I'm sure she meant to ask if you observed what happened, or if you had to defend yourselves."
"I see." Xen evidently didn't believe that, even though that had honestly been what I had meant. Still, she was diplomatic enough to push past the awkward moment. "No, we were returning from a supply run and only arrived a few hours ago. We recorded a few unusual energy signatures, but nothing else."
Vakarian stirred, "And the mechs?"
The Quarian's body language betrayed a flinch, though it was so slight I didn't think that Shepard or Vakarian noticed. "We believe that at least one of our engineers survived, and was responsible for resetting them at some point during the initial attack."
She clearly expected us to immediately blame them for the attack, or else make some kind of comment about how Quarian produced mechs were repeating history. Most people probably wouldn't have been able to resist the urge, and I couldn't really blame her for the cultural expectations. Centuries of Council racism were difficult to overcome for anyone, much less for a group as insular as the Migrants tended to be.
"Interesting." I mused, seizing on the more important part of what she had told us. "Shepard, if they're still alive, they may have seen what happened directly. Perhaps even have recorded evidence that you could take to the Council. Where would they be?"
Xen stared at me for a few moments, then turned to Shepard. "If any of our people are still alive they may not be in the best shape, not if they've gone so far as to program the mechs to engage anything that moves. They will need help."
"Which we will give." Shepard, of course, assured her, "Our priority is helping any survivors."
There might have been a quiet snort from Holt, but he otherwise restrained himself. I settled for pressing my lips together, not quite liking that as our primary focus. It was something we could do, of course, I wasn't heartless... but the cold fact of it was that what we found here could help thousands elsewhere. If leaving a few Quarians to their fates meant discovering crucial intelligence, it was our duty to make the hard choice.
"Where would they be?" The Commander continued, either oblivious to or ignoring the Batarian.
"Likely the militia command post." Came the reply, a helmet dipping towards the west. "They were given a sealed prefab to utilize while they were on-site, it's also near their primary defensive bunkers."
Shepard hesitated, likely considering that, then nodded. "Right. We'll move as a full team. I'll take point. Garrus, Lawson will flank us. If you could, Miss Xen, I'd appreciate it if your people joined Sergeant Holt's marines."
"I will accompany you." Xen replied, her tones becoming something far harder and more implacable. "As well one of my guards, but we have wounded. They have to be moved to our ship immediately."
"Do they require an escort?"
She hesitated, then twitched her head in a nod. "It would be appreciated."
"Holt." The Spectre turned, "Your team will escort them back, then join the other marines to ensure the starport doesn't come under attack."
I couldn't read Batarians as well as Kelly could, but I knew enough to get the general gist. Holt wasn't overly thrilled with the order, with what I thought was a twinge of disrespect thrown in for good measure, but he didn't allow any of that to escape in his tone. "Very well Commander."
Things moved fairly quickly after that. Three of the Migrants quickly organized around a fourth, two of them supporting a man with a bloody leg while the third took up an escorting position. The Blades, though clearly less than thrilled to be escorting Migrants, were professionals and formed up in a solid skirmish formation around their charges.
Xen and her bodyguard shadowed Vakarian at Shepard's insistence, an understandable decision given the aggressive and mobile nature of her fighting style and her probable lack of trust in me. I was sure that she trusted me to keep her alive, to fight beside her, for now anyway, but trusting me to protect a VIP was evidently something else.
Our unusual group set off westwards, Shepard giving concise orders as we integrated our various components into something she considered acceptable. N7 standard formation for combined teams, if my memory was being its usually reliable self; herself as the command center, one subordinate commander (me) forwards, the other (Vakarian) back in case anything happened to the front pair.
So in addition to Jacob and EDI, I more or less had Goto darting alongside of us as the front rank. I could have done without that, the woman redefined the word 'aggravating', but for once she seemed to be focused on the job at hand rather than ghosting around and snarking just for kicks.
Thankfully we didn't have the time for her to grow bored, running into additional mechs after perhaps four minutes.
A full squad of Volus-built HL-20's had been moving on a north-south street across our path, the heavy set machines managing to look even more awkward than the LOKI models. They were far more armored, equipped with pistol caliber barrels built into their wrists, but they were far slower and their weapons positions forced more of them to remain in the open to fire.
Jacob and I fell back to the left side of the street, using a ground car that had come to a rest with its nose against a building for cover. We fell into a quick pattern with familiar ease, starting with the mechs to our left and working our way to the right. Across the way, EDI and Kasumi weren't as coordinated but no less lethal as they destroyed several mechs in a matter of seconds. Of course that still left a respectable number of them, their fire quickly coordinating with machine-level accuracy, forcing us to duck back to give our shields a few moments to recharge.
Shepard and T'Soni handled the lot on our behalf.
The blue-black flare of a singularity screamed into existence in the intersection, hauling four of the mechs up and into the air to spin in crazed circles. While the Asari maiden worked them over with precise shots from her pistol, her bondmate all but blurred past us, easily matching EDI's maximum speed, firing bursts from her Phaeston as she moved.
She didn't miss a single shot, despite adopting a zig-zag pattern that threw off the mech's basic predictive algorithms. Two went down on her approach, their heads and control systems demolished by the precision fire. The remaining three didn't last long after her arrival, the Spectre blasting one apart at full-auto from point-blank range before she turned to the other two.
One advanced a step, throwing a punch towards her torso. Shepard ducked, seized it by the wrist, and then spun her body as her biotics flared. The judotics maneuver flung the thing entirely over her, the mech sailing in an elegant arc that ended when it struck the nearby building two stories up. It fell to the ground even as she turned to the final machine, ignoring the rounds it put into her barriers with terrific disdain before she put her right boot through its torso.
The entire thing occurred within a matter of seconds, and I felt my lips curl in pride. I knew it was conceited of me... but dammit, I'd more than outdone myself.
"Stop looking so smug." Jacob murmured quietly as Shepard waved us forwards once again, the Spectre admonishing all of us for sitting around and watching rather than continuing to advance. "Don't think she'll appreciate it."
"I am not smug." I countered equally as softly as we got moving, "I am satisfied. There is a difference."
"Uh huh." He replied, amusement, affection, and a note of caution all working their way through his voice. "Just remember what Kelly ran us through."
I nodded slightly rather than responding verbally. Chambers had run us through more than a few 'lessons' on how to properly interact with both Kean and Shepard. The former was relatively easy in comparison to the latter, given the complications facing the Spectre. Especially since we would need to be on good terms with Shepard both during and beyond the mission to deal with the Collectors. It was more than merely keeping her happy, it was about reassuring her that we were trustworthy, that our goals and her own were not incompatible.
That we weren't the murderous, psychopathic thugs that Harper had allowed the old Cerberus to become.
For now, most of the advice revolved around treating Shepard like a regular human being, and to not, whenever possible, remind her of what she'd become or the death she'd experienced. Me not displaying my very real pride at our accomplishment tied into that, something that I admittedly found difficult whenever Shepard did things like that.
The westward advance resumed from there, the blocky forms of the colony's primary strong points quickly coming into view despite the evening sun. We ran into a few more mechs along the way, more LOKI's, more HL-20's, and twice a pair of lone FENRIS types, but nothing that couldn't be dealt with easily enough. More important were the additional units of destroyed Geth that we discovered with increasing regularity as we moved on.
"What do you think?" Vakarian asked after Shepard rotated our positions, taking the lead while I fell back.
I pursed my lips, a little surprised that he was talking to me at all, "About the Geth?"
"Yeah."
"A rear-guard." I offered after a few more moments of thought, "A final clean-up crew. Checking over the colony for any survivors or recording systems that may have escaped the initial attack. They were likely still here when whichever Quarians survived managed to get the defensive mechs online. More worrying, honestly, is whatever shut the systems down in the first place."
He let out a quiet, frustrated sound. "That's been bothering me too. These people were beyond paranoid, even paid to bring in Quarian experts despite being hard-core racists... and I didn't see any damage to their GARDIAN towers on the way down."
"We didn't either." I agreed, trying not to show how much that worried me. What that told us was that they the ability to hack down an entire defensive network, while simultaneously releasing sufficient numbers of those cybernetic insects to overwhelm a city with nearly ten thousand people before they could even try and formulate a defense.
Vakarian nodded when I quietly relayed that, the pair of us picking our way over a small field of destroyed machines. "Agreed. Not many colonies left with only one major population center though. If they go for New Canton or Horizon, even Pskov, we might get an actual alert."
"And a better understanding of their capabilities." I agreed, finding myself quietly pleased that he was being realistic.
He nodded and then motioned for me to move ahead, falling back to rejoin Xen and her guard, the Quarians having remained entirely silent except for when Shepard asked for any reports from them. So far all they'd indicated was that they hadn't heard any new signals, and that Holt and their wounded had reached the starport and forted up.
Not that their silence was noticeable as we reached the command center... and the battlefield that surrounded it.
Destroyed mechs carpeted the ground alongside destroyed Geth leaking white fluids across the ground. Most were close to the heavy-set bunkers that had likely been holding the machines, the Geth having briefly held them at the choke-points before sheer numbers had taken their toll. That was even with the fact that many of the local machines had clearly engaged one another, either due to the poor programming, or possibly the Geth managing to hack their attackers.
My eyes drifted right, observing the wreckage, then I zeroed in on a collection of destroyed Geth at the base of a small prefab block that was badly out of place amidst the militaristic structures.
Xen noticed it at the same time, cursed, and then took off before anyone could stop her. Shepard caught up to her within a moment, but made no effort to stop her, instead staying in a close escort pose. The rest of us trailed a bit behind, catching up as we all reached the structure.
Two YMIR mechs, both upgraded combat models that looked more like charred skeletons rather than towering war machines, were slumped near the doors. Personal guards making their final stands to protect the engineers within, I assumed. They'd taken a hell of a lot of Geth with them, including several armatures, but had finally fallen to... a strafing run, if I was reading the lines of damage properly.
That at least told us that the Geth had still had air support at the time the Quarians had tried to activate the defenses.
We found the engineers inside. One was still breathing.
"Veetor." Xen knelt beside a young man, his suit covered in blood, his body shaking violently. "Veetor! Keelah he's in bad shape. Kol, get his medical data."
Her guard crouched down on the wounded man's other side, his omni-tool already online. Leaving them to it, I stepped around Shepard from where she and T'Soni were watching the aliens work, conversing on a private channel almost inaudibly, and instead focused on the computer systems around us.
"EDI." I kept my voice quiet, "Confirm what I'm looking at?"
The AI smoothly moved up on my right, her helmet twitching as she took in the various screens. "It appears to be a sequence of reset commands being sent out to various defensive systems. All but the mechs are still awaiting activation... I am unsure of the implications of this fact."
"A mistake." Another voice entered the conversation, Doctor Solus appearing on my left. He'd removed his helmet, and his aging features were drawn in what passed for solemn sadness on a Salarian. "Hopefully a mistake, other options less pleasant. Panic, the press of a button before the others were ready. Drawing attention before all prepared. Trapped, final commands, the summoning of the heavies."
Then it would have all been over. I exhaled, easily able to imagine the situation as the Doctor ran through it. Eight Quarians, inside their airtight little box, waking up to prepare for the day's work. Seeing the security system collapse as the attack began, doing everything they could to bring them back online. Realizing that everyone else was gone, taken or dead, and that their only hope would be to wait the situation out or else activate all of the colony's systems at once.
One of the eight panicking, out of fear or nerves, and sending the reset out to the mechs before the new command package was complete. Before the colony's GARDIAN defenses could be readied to defend against aerial attacks.
"Xen?" Shepard asked into the tense silence that Solus' words had brought.
"He must have been hidden, beneath the bodies maybe." The diplomat's voice was commendably collected, though an undercurrent of anger ran through it, "Minor wound, but he's reacting to something, and he's been without help for too long. We have to get him back to our ship and into stasis, then to the Flotilla."
The fact that she wasn't optimistic about his chances was clear despite the fact that she didn't say as much aloud. From the way Shepard's shoulders tensed, she heard it just as well as I did.
"Nikita, Kasumi, help them get him moving. Mordin? Help them stabilize him." The Spectre quickly began to adjust her orders. "Lawson, Liara, let's see if we can find anything on these systems."
I frowned. "EDI could easily manage it."
"Yes." She nodded, "But I need her to head outside and see if she can pull anything from the Geth."
It wasn't likely, but if anyone had a chance to do so EDI would be it. Hard data directly from the Geth would be even better than what we could pull from the computers here when it came to convincing the Council, which I was sure was Shepard's angle.
"Sensible." I nodded in reply, "Let's get to work. The sooner we begin, the sooner we can begin to go over what we now know."
Next up is Press Ganged V
This chapter came out far long than I had intended, though I doubt that anyone will mind. Things are a still a bit rough personally, though improving, so hopefully the next chapter will come out in good order without the need for another delay.
The plan remains for two more chapters in this operation, completing the wave one recruitments. It will be the Okeer section, as implied earlier, though it won't resemble canon in the slightest. After that we're going to have four interludes before we go into the next operation. The interludes will all be single interludes, all from individual povs. Current roster is as follows, though the order will probably get re-arranged: Ragged Ice, Scaled Perspective, Warrior Merit, Olympic Business
Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."
Thanks, Kat
Review Responses
AngelForm - Some canon rails will persist, primarily in areas where I don't think the happenings of the Terminus os the long delay within ME1 would have affected things. The Collector's choice of targets, for example, doesn't really have any reason to change. I am glad that the various points of view are working, that dichotomy is part of the goal for this story.
Adam Pitlik - The third operation should be intriguing for you.
5 Coloured Walker - This should have an answer for Zaeed, at least partially. Atlas suits will be showing up at some point, though they'll be heavily modified from canon.