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"This way, Human." A Krogan guard grunted, waving him down a hall and wearing relatively lighter looking black armor and carrying an old and battered shotgun of some kind. A venerated and trusted warrior among all the clans, armed lightly and only because of the threat of Reapers, to guard the area around and under the Hollows. "The Battlemasters are waiting for you, for whatever damn reason. So hurry the hell up, we all have work to do and waitin' on you makes my hide itch."
"Acknowledged." He'd been allowed to keep his new rifle, a Harrier he now knew for fact from several Krogan who'd called it as such. The rounds were large, the rifle was automatic and accurate at medium ranges, so the ODST simply assumed the name was a nickname spun off the best role for the weapon.
Why he'd been allowed to keep it was the question, but not one he'd risk asking about to satisfy.
"Don't get lost down here, I'd hate to have to track you down." The guard huffed, waving his hand in the same again to direct him. "Urdnot Wrex needs you for somethin', so... Come and see me if you can't navigate down here. Takes some gettin' used to."
"Thank you." He grunted after a second, turning to head the way he'd been directed when the Krogan didn't make a move to say anything else. As he walked, he took a moment to look around himself and take in the sights, mapping out turns as best he could in his head. "Like a maze…"
The Hollows were a sacred place, but they were unlike any he'd ever visited and hard to navigate. The top was an enclosed surface, with thick and heavy walls on every side and a reinforced roof structure to protect from attack with only gaps a foot wide - and thus too thin for a Krogan to fit through - for ventilation, all of them at the connection between roof and wall. It was undecorated as well, with little of any real apparent significance beyond massive statues at the corners and some ancient, weathered epitaphs. A bunker, almost, able to withstand bombardment and assault as well as anything could hope to without being completely sealed up and entrenched into the ground.
Under the Hollows' meeting grounds was a honeycomb of maze-like tunnels and rooms, bare of anything aside from divots into the walls large enough for a Krogan to take cover in and more epitaphs. But the walls always curved, so the the divots would offer as little protection against defending fire as possible. And everything decorative or ceremonial was either part of the wall or anchored to it, so that nothing could be ripped away easily and made into a weapon.
A Krogan ancestral site through and through, built with their nature in mind as much if not more than the culture plastered along the walls.
The room was large by his standards, but felt as small as a bunk room aboard a UNSC cruiser had with the dozen massive, alien forms in it. Their massive figures were covered in armor, some with bandages wrapped around wounds from the fight previous, and they stood in a circle around a large console set into the ground, massive wires running to both of the far corners. On it he could see the glow of a holo-map, and what he guessed had to be the terrain of Tuchanka around the Hollows with all the ruins and broken structures.
"Rook!" Wrex boomed when red eyes caught sight of him from the other side of the mass of armored bodies, raising a meaty hand to wave him over. "Come on in, we've been waitin' on you. Did you have trouble with the passages?"
"Yes, but I found my way here." He answered shortly, reflexively adjusting his grip on his rifle as eleven eyes ten times older than he could get landed on him before he moved towards his Battlemaster friend.
The Krogan noticed but, either trusting Wrex's pick of companions or knowing that a single Human with a rifle couldn't deal with a dozen Krogan warlords, they didn't react beyond derisive snorts. None moved for him as he walked around the table, and the one on Wrex's left didn't move until the High Warlord shoved him out of the way and waved a hand at the high table for the ODST to stand at.
"Now, I know what all you scaly bastards are thinkin'." Wrex grunted, face set into a glare as his eyes roved each Warlord in turn. "Why did I stall this meeting for a Human, of all things, when we're here to cure the Genophage? Why is a Human at my side, in one of the most trusted positions, instead of a Warlord like you? Or even just a Krogan warrior, someone covered in scars from a century of fights?"
"We're thinkin' it, yeah… And a few other things too, now you mention it." A Krogan across from Wrex sneered, green eyes looking the ODST over like he was an insect the alien had spotted. The ODST turned his head calmly to stare the man down, depolarizing his visor so the Krogan could meet his icy eyes, and the Warlord snorted. "Shepard would be one thing, but this… Scrawny Human, we don't know him."
"We already know the Salarians want this cure stopped." Another pointed out, voice impossibly deeper than Wrex's own rumbling out. "What if the Alliance has decided to side with them?"
"Shepard would tell me if they pulled that shit. And desert too. And Hackett knows that damn well enough, he needs her." Wrex waved a hand to dismiss the idea, like he was wafting it away the way he might a bad smell. "Shepard's got a full plate already, so she gave me him. Put him under my command and 'sides, he's harder than all of you combined. So if she hadn't offered, I'd have asked for him."
"Is that an insult?" The first Krogan snapped, growling and slamming a hand down hard enough that the holo-map fizzled for a moment before clearing up again. "We did not come here for insults, Urdnot. We came for a cure for the Genophage."
"Wasn't an insult. Just a point of fact." The ODST sighed, but let Wrex explain before the Krogan could bellow responses. Clapping the smaller Human on a shoulder, the High Warlord went on, "This bastard right here ain't your average Human soldier, needin' a prissy shuttle for every fight. He's somethin' special, real secret Alliance shit, more 'n anything else they got. I only get to tell you because I pushed for it when they pulled away for their little Prothean gig. An ODST."
"Go on then, Rook." The Krogan jostled him in a friendly way, grinning beside him. "Tell 'em what you're allowed to. We'll keep our damn traps shut while you do, so don't worry 'bout that none."
"...Understood." The clever old Krogan was good with his words, and knew how to steer attention. 'Tell them what you can' meant that he could relay just the public information about the ODSTs, and simply assert Alliance classification on everything under UNSC classification.
Wrex was indeed a clever, clever Krogan.
Twelve massive, curious sets of eyes landed on him and he spoke, "ODST stands for Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. A highly elite special forces unit which is trained to deploy via SOEIV, or Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle. One-soldier pods slightly larger than yourselves, deployed from orbiting ships for tactical insertion on the ground."
"Lifepods, but smaller and you launch 'em at the ground to drop off soldiers." Wrex translated easily, the ODST nodding gratefully to him. "I've seen his pod with my own two eyes, too. Name me one Krogan in this room that drops from friggin' orbit in a damn tin can to shoot shit, and he can stand next to me."
Silence reigned, and Wrex grunted knowingly, "Fine then, shut up the lot of you and pay the ODST some damn respect." Around the table, Krogan glanced to each other and then to him, offering small nods, occasionally pounding a fist on the table or their chests instead, and Wrex bumped his arm against the smaller Human's. "Nod back, s'how it works. Sign of mutual respect and acknowledgement."
He did, and the tension in the room vanished, the first krogan speaking again, "So, High Warlord. What's the plan?"
The ODST relaxed as Wrex leaned forward, explaining the Turian air support and the multi-angled assault on the Shroud, which had apparently been occupied by a Reaper for some reason. Fifteen columns of Krogan armor would move along as many roads from every direction and, with Turian air support, bombard the Reaper Destroyer while the Krogan ground forces held a rear guard line behind the armor. All along the path, Krogan infantry squads would be dropped off to entrench and lure in enemy forces, both to thin their numbers in general and to take pressure off the rolling armored units. Trailing slightly behind the main Krogan assault force would be the troop-carriers, which would surround and protect a smaller, heavily armored vehicle carrying Shepard, Mordin and Eve, along with two Warlords and Shepard's squad in case anything happened.
"What do you think, Rook?" Wrex asked suddenly once the plan had been explained, the ODST glancing between the Krogan and the map twice before Wrex rolled his red eyes, snorted amusedly, and said, "You've fought fights like this before. So what do you think of the plan?"
"I… It's workable, Sir." He finally said, leaning forward to tap two large mounds to the North and East of the Reaper. "I also think we could divert forces here and here. Entrench two small artillery divisions, which can add support to any fights along the way."
"That would mean diverting Krogan out of the fight itself." A back Warlord said, voice higher than the others and almost lilting in a way. "But my clan has a few Tomkahs fitted for shelling we could bring in on this."
"Did you bring them?" The other Krogan simply nodded and Wrex clapped the ODST on the shoulder again, the body part starting to bruise from all the gestures of camaraderie. Not that John could complain, though, he'd only just earned the respect of these Warlords. "Good call, Rook. Anything else?"
"This structure around the Shroud… What is it?"
"Old ruins of a city along the roads and further out. Close in, though… That's the Temple of Kalros, Mother of Tuchanka and the largest Thresher Maw on the planet. Or in the species." He tapped a finger on the map, right under the Shroud, and went on. "Couple of Hammers there, hit 'em and you can summon her. Was a defense, few centuries back. The whole temple is fortified like that, to protect the Shroud way the hell back when our species was uplifted."
"Will the Thresher Maw be a problem?" He asked, worried about having to face down something like that alongside fighting Reapers.
"Nah, nah, she stays underground unless she's summoned, usually. Hunts other 'Maws." The Warlord shrugged and Rookie nodded, pushing away the concern for now since he was at least fairly certain it wasn't something to really worry over. A variable, but not one he should have to worry about facing. "What else ya got?"
"Have the Normandy devote its shuttles to bombing and fire support roles along the Western and Southern routes, to make up for the lack of artillery." He leaned back and gave Wrex a small but clear shrug. "Other than that, the plan is solid as it is. Any other changes would require delaying days or hours to move in men and supplies."
"Not an option. Someone might get cold feet, or someone might get support and bog us down more… No, no more waiting." Wrex dismissed, leaning on the table once again and staring at the Shroud on the holo-map silently for a few long seconds. "Today, the Genophage dies." Looking up, he glanced to each Krogan in turn and growled, "Today, the Krogan kill a Reaper, and we kill the Genophage. And look at that, nice and convenient for us, they're in the same damn spot."
"Who are we to look a working Tomkah down the barrel, eh?" He roared and, deafeningly, the other Krogan joined him in uproarious cheer and fervor. As they filed out, Wrex spoke to the ODST, "Sorry to put you on the spot back there, but… The Warlords had to respect ya or they'd never work with ya."
"Understood, Sir." He nodded, polarizing is visor as he did and rolling his shoulders. "We have work to do, Sir."
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"First drop off!" Wrex bellowed as always, into ears and earpieces both, as the Tomkah that he, John and two Krogan Warlord bodyguards were riding in tilted, the massive vehicle skidding to a stop on the broken Tuchankan roads. "Krilat, Wreav, take the back flank. Rook and me get the front. Gunner, swivel wherever you seem black 'n blue. For the Cure!"
"For Tuchanka!" All but the ODST crowed, though the small Human was the first to leap out the door as the ramp dropped. His feet hit the dirt as rounds sparked off his shields and the armor behind him, the Trooper ducking to the side and strafing towards the front with his rifle raised, spitting fire wherever enemy rounds seemed to come from until he saw his shields drop low and slammed into a concrete barrier, ancient and worn but more than usable for him to take cover behind.
Husks charged, Human forms small and lithe ducking between the innumerable slabs of ruddy brown concrete and mounded sand for cover as they tried to close the distance. The Tomkah's gun swiveled on a large cluster and fired, sending the pitiful things flying into the air in pieces and searching for another target. Short, three round bursts of his rifle barked out at the Husks as they charged, each taking the creature he sighted in the chest just below the throat and throwing its body back to lay still in the sand.
Wrex followed behind him, standing in the open heedless of the incoming fire and hurling two balls of Biotic energy. One that lifted a Husk into the air, the creature scrabbling for leverage on the ground and its fellows as it floated, and then another that slammed into the floating Reaper with a dull whump, the Biotics detonating in a blue explosion of fire and kinetic fury that left havoc in the Reaper's lines. Hundreds more Husks followed though, the two Krogan joining their rifle fire to his and Wrex's own, one hand wielding an Avenger while the other hurled balls of blue power into the fight.
"Rook!" He turned to his side at the warning and the movement he spotted, massive creature hurling a stone into the air. "Brute! Get back!"
It was too close, he knew, the Brute roaring as it raised its claw high and his mind raced. Tossing aside the Harrier, he leapt towards the Brute instead of away, landing between its massive bludgeoning claw and its body. Rising, he pulled his knife in one hand and a grenade from his belt in the other, stepped around the Brute and punching the knife into its softer side and slamming the Omni-Gel covered grenade onto the knife.
Then the Reaper turned, as though aware of his intent, and batted him the way the Reaper had come from. He sailed through the air, slamming into a concrete slab hard enough he heard stone and bone crack under the force and grunted. Landing and ignoring the burning in his side, he brought up arms to shield himself as the grenade went off, sending the massive claw flying off the creature and chunks of meat and metal into the air. Without a sound, the Brute's corpse collapsed to the side, but he couldn't dwell on the victory for long before the fist of the Husks leapt over the barricades at the Krogans, the Warlords wrestling with them and ripping, tearing or simply crushing them to kill them.
But more came, heedless of their fellow's bodies and their ally's bullets tearing into their backs, and he forced himself up. Drawing his sidearm and taking a firing stance, he put three rounds into each of the three Husks crawling over Wrex's back, and then another three into the one that leapt for him. With a roar, Wrex let off a Biotic detonation around himself and turned, kicking the Harrier into the air and touching a hand to it.
Almost airily, the rifled drifted towards him and, snapping off shots into the Husks as he did, he moved towards it and plucked it from the air. Snapping a fresh clip into his rifle and discarding the old one, he stepped behind Wrex while the Krogan shot, bashed and biotically eviscerated the incoming Husks. Using the Warlord for cover, he put short, accurate bursts into the Husks swarming the other two Warlords, freeing them the same way he had Wrex and then using the mountainous Krogan like a pillar of cover, rifle bucking against his left shoulder as he leaned out to fire on the Husks.
Finally, the slower transport Tomkahs rolled up, disgorging three dozen Krogan and turning heavy cannons on the Reaper forces along with the Krogan's own mix of fists, Biotics and rifle fire. The massive cannons on the Tomkahs fired beyond the Husks, aiming to where the fire was coming from and, finally, the first fight ended.
"Here, Human." He looked up at a red-armored Krogan, white skulls poorly painted on his shoulders and chest, and then the outstretched hand. A long knife rested there, half the length of his forearm with a serrated and a dark orange edge tinged with flecks of blue in a sheath open on the blade edge for a smooth draw and lined in blocky magnets to keep it secure He glanced to the warrior curiously and the Krogan spoke, "Warlord Krilat saw you lose yours, so here's mine. S'old, but damn good."
"Acknowledged... " He took the weapon, reaching up to flick off his old, useless sheath and fix the new one there. Experimentally, he drew the knife, ignoring the pain in his side and testing the weight with a swing. "Usable."
"Alpha Squad, you know the drill." Wrex's voice boomed before the red Krogan could answer, looking to him worriedly when he registered the large Krogan beside him for a moment and then nodding when the Krogan pounded a hand against its chest in salute. "Rook, saw that hit. Good?"
"Cracked rib, nothing serious beyond that." He reloaded his rifle again as he spoke, drawing his sidearm to do the same. "Ready to proceed on your command, Warlord."
"In the trucks, and someone slap some Medi on the Rook's ribs. Don't want our Brute-killer to get knocked out of the fight too soon, hah!" The Warlord bellowed with a mirthful chuckle that many Krogan matched, chuckling and pointing his rifle into the air, waving the Krogan toward the Tomkahs. "Now load up, Krogan. We got three more'o these stops to make on the way to the Shroud and a long damn day."
Cheers went up at that, the bravado of soldiers coming off a win, and the Krogan started to file off to board the Tomkahs or start entrenching with the Tomkah that would be staying to support them. A rear guard action, which meant a very very unpredictable job.
He wished them well and returned to his seat, ready for the next fight.
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Five hours passed of the fighting, water chugged in the Tomkahs as Krogans passed around canteens, thermal clips and ration bars while they trundled along, with the ten minute naps of a long armored assault that he could catch between skirmishes and slogging battles. The surviving three sat in the Tomkah, licking their wounds and resting before the next fight ahead of them.
The Warlord who'd had him given a new knife had died in the last fight, exhausted but too stubborn a warrior to yield his ground, torn in half by a Brute before Wrex slammed into it like a Biotic artillery shell as a result. The other Warlord, Wreav, was just as tired but dogged nonetheless, covered in bleeding cuts, bullet holes and burns, most of which seemed not to be healing.
Even krogan regeneration had a limit, then, probably relating to calorie stores. A thought that had him holding out a tasteless ration bar for the Krogan who waved it off, grunting that, "He was fine, and a Human would need more energy to keep up."
"Wreav already ate, John." Wrex grunted, sitting between them in the Tomkah and looking as bad as his brother - a revelation that had only come off of the previous Warlord's death - with slowly bleeding wounds scored across his arms and ragged claw marks ripped along his back. "S'your ration, you eat it. You need your strength just as much as we do for the last push, heh heh…"
Helmet sitting in his lap, he simply nodded and took another bite of the tasteless faux-oatmeal bar, forcing it down regardless and accepting the canteen Wreav leaned over to offer, grunting, "Impressive fighting, for a Human. Day long nearin', hordes of the bastards, heavy fire… Seen you take some hits, too."
"I'm used to it." He said shortly, for once more due to his dry and sore throat than his dislike of wasteful talking. These were the kinds of fights he was made for, trained for… The kinds he'd fought in for years. "I'm just disappointed we lost the other Warlord."
"Died like a Krogan ought to." Wreav grunted, nodding along with his brother. Raising his voice so the equally exhausted Tomkah crew around them could hear, the Krogan roared. "On his feet, roaring, and ripping into his enemies like a mad Varren! For his clan! For Tuchanka! For the Cure!"
Again the cries went up and this time, in spite of himself and before he realized he was even doing it, he raised a fist silently along with them in mute support. Why, he didn't know, and simply pinned it on exhaustion and the adrenaline high from the constant fighting.
They continued on in silence for several more minutes after that, the ODST drinking his fill and then replacing his helmet on his head and rolling his sore shoulder. He wasn't in any better shape than the Krogans, he knew, his armor covered in dents, pits from glancing rounds when his shields dropped, and a cut scoured along the inside of his thigh, sealed up by Medi-Gel and wrapped in an off-white bandage. And his cracked rib, that smarted as the Medi-Gel's anesthetic effect began wearing off, the ODST resigning himself to it now.
Wounded, lower on ammunition than he'd have liked, and armor covered in gouges, bullet pockmarks and small scratches…
The sensation was an odd sort of cross between satisfaction, comfort of a sort and resignation, something he couldn't place. As the Tomkah slowed and Wrex rolled his shoulders to stretch before the next fight, he pushed the thoughts away and prepared to get to work once again.
"What's wrong? We shouldn't be at the assault site yet." Wrex called out, standing and shouting up the angled steps at the Krogan pilots.
"Roads blocked, High Warlord. Looks like some of the ruins collapsed onto it, just a cliff on one side and an old, underground temple on the other. No way through." One called back, the Tomkah backing up and turning as he spoke. "We're assuming a defensive stance while the infantry and support vehicles move up. We'll need Krogan out there to move the debris."
Snarling, Wrex punched the release for the door and leaned out, glaring ahead of the Tomkah and then swearing, "Shit… I'll get on the horn with Shepard, let her know what's going on. Rook, you're not strong enough to move the debris, so I want you on lookout."
"Acknowledged." The Krogan leaned back to let him through, the ODST scanning the area outside in search of a good vantage.
Far ahead of them, he saw their objective. The Shroud, looming high in the air and pumping particulates into the atmosphere, surrounded by a temple of sorts and with a Reaper stood in front of it. Almost looking at them, which might have been the case really. It was likely it wouldn't fire, though, at this range. It would almost certainly miss and do nothing, assuming its weapons had that range in a planet's gravity.
The best vantage point he could find was a stack of rocks on the edge of the cliff that looked safe enough to climb, the transdimensional trooper collapsing his rifle to climb it. Kneeling at the top, he set to scanning the horizon towards the Shroud and around them, the Tomkahs pulling in behind them soon enough.
"John!" He turned, looking down ten minutes after he'd climbed atop the rocks, to see Shepard standing there with her hands on her hips. "Get down here, need to talk to you. Wrex cleared it, the Tomkahs have guns out now so it's fine."
"What is it, ma'am?" He asked finally, when he was on the ground again, leaning against he rocks with his rifle across his chest.
"Checking in. You good? I see the bandage, by the way, so don't tell me you're 'fine' and wave it off." He sighed, but she crossed her arms, clearly ready to wait him out if he tried that approach, and so he nodded.
"Small crack in a rib, cuts on my inner leg, and various bruising. All treated, none hindrances to combat effectiveness." To prove his point, he shifted all his weight onto the wounded leg and shrugged. "I'm combat capable, ma'am."
"More than, from the shit I'm hearin' about you out there…" She shook her head and turned, waving for him to follow her as she spoke. "Did you seriously stab a knife into a Brute to stick a grenade to?"
"Affirmative."
"That's fucking insane…" She shook her head but seemed impressed at the same time, the tone of her voice carrying it. More serious as they moved past the Tomkahs towards where Wrex was standing, speaking to several Krogan, she went on. "You've done good work, John. Wrex told me all about it, he's… Got a lot of respect for you."
"Acknowledged." He could tell, really, and the Krogan they passed now paid him a few nods of their own. Less than Shepard by a country mile, he knew, but still more than he'd started out getting. "What's the mission's status?"
"Not green, Lance Corporal." She sighed, shaking her head, "Not green by a damn sight… But we'll get it done, same as always."
"Affirmative."
Pushing past his Krogan, Wrex thundered towards them, face a storm of rage that gave even Shepard pause. Before either could speak, he did, spitting the words, "The Turians aren't coming. Their entire god damn wing is grounded."
"What?" Shepard demanded, arms slowly dropping to her side in shock. "They're grounded? How?"
"Sabotage." Wrex snarled, shaking his great head and spitting. "And we both know who'd use sabotage to stop this cure going through."
The Salarians were known as agents, spies and saboteurs, able to sometimes ground fleets for months if they needed to. They employed knowledge, deception, assassination, and sabotage to achieve their objectives in whatever interests they pursued. And they were the only people who had aligned against the cure for the Genophage, even proposing sabotage to Shepard already.
No air support meant that they couldn't kill the Reaper, and that meant no cure…
"We'll withdraw." Shepard finally said, the words sounding choked as she said them, looking up at Wrex. "I'm sorry, but… We'll pull back, regroup, coordinate another strike on the Shroud. Maybe the Alliance fleets can spare… Something."
"The Shroud is poisoning my planet, Shepard. It'll take weeks to form up for another assault, if we get the support for it at all. Which I don't think is a gaurantee." Wrex growled, sounding for the first time since he'd known the Warlord genuinely frightened. "We withdraw… The planet dies, and my species with it."
"Wrex, we don't have the men for an assault like that-"
"Permission to speak freely, Commander." He interrupted, the Spectre rounding on him in surprise. Hesitating only a moment, eyes like frozen jade behind her visor while she considered him, she finally nodded and he spoke. "Kalros… We summon her, the Reaper will target her and she'll kill it."
"That's past the Reapers." Wrex pointed out, eyes narrowing on him matched by dozens of other Krogan gazes. "You'd have to push past 'em to get to it, and without the air support… Our Tomkahs don't have the staying power. They won't survive long enough to bring it down, and if we don't kill it the Reaper will just cut us to pieces."
"No assault." He said simply, shaking his head and adjusting his grip on his Harrier anxiously. "An infiltration." He turned to Shepard, giving the woman a level stare as his helmet depolarized. "My pod can't survive exoatmospheric reentry, but… Low altitude, in-atmposhere, I could drop right into the temple and summon Kalros."
"That's suicide." Wrex was quick to point out, stepping close and glancing between him and the Commander. "We can't… You'll have no support in there. The Reapers will come, with or without the Destroyer."
"Feet first into Hell." He said simply, rolling his shoulders and setting his jaw. Holding up an open hand for the Krogan, he said, "My job is just to drop in there. Your job is to make sure it's crowded when I get there, Wrex."
"Rookie…" Shepard's voice was low, mixed with emotion as he turned and looked at her. Her eyes were hard though and, after a moment, she sighed and spoke to Wrex instead. "Normandy can pick us up here inside a couple minutes, Wrex. Make the call, I'll follow it no matter what it is."
"Hm…" Several seconds passed before Wrex spoke, raising his voice to speak to the Krogan assembled there around him. "What say you, Krogan? The Turians have shown themselves steadfast, and the Humans too. Right now, around this world, Human, Turian and Krogan all fight and die together, soaking Tuchankan soil. They die for us, for our world. Thousands of them, fighting and dying here while their own worlds die to Reaper fire."
"But the Salarians stab us in the back… Cowards, willing to throw these sacrifices away like Varren shit… Just as we closed on a cure for the Genophage, the salvation of our species, the Salarians betray us. Betray those Turians, those Humans… And turn our mission into suicide." Pushing past the ODST and walking through his men, the Krogan parting as he did and leaving a wake between the Warlord and the two Humans, the Krogan let the murmurs carry through the crowd. Turning, he pointed through the Krogan at the Humans standing awed into silence and roared, "And still these two fight! For us! One risks her ship and her crew, the other drops straight into his death."
"For us!" He roared, slamming his fists into his chest and letting the sound echo. "The ODST will make his drop, that much is just a fact. Has to happen, simple as that. But I say this… I say that when he does, we join him out there!" He let the words echo for a moment, to sink in, before he went on, "We charge into the Reaper's lines, bring them every. Last. Pound of Krogan we have here. Every bullet, hell, every fist when it gets to that! We make a legend with him, of the hundred Krogan who charged into hell, and the Human who dove into its very depths for their species to continue!"
"I say that if John Doe's blood is going to feed Tuchanka…. If his blood is to soak this soil, then it will not be alone!" Wrex took a breath and nodded to him deeply, a sign of respect from the highest Warlord in the species. Raising his head, he promised, "My blood will spill with him, and for him if he needs it. Enough alien blood has soaked our soil, earned us this. So let's soak the soil with some Reaper blood! For Tuchanka!"
"For Tuchanka!" Sixty voices cried, raising fists into the air and roaring their defiance.
"For the small ones!" Wrex roared as follow up, the other Krogan somehow bellowing even more powerfully at that than the cries of 'Tuchanka'.
"You're not allowed to die out there." Shepard said quietly as the Krogan shuffled off, preparing weapons, armor and Tomkahs for the battle to come. Giving him a hard look through her visor, she added, "I'm ordering you to make it back in one piece, Rookie. Understood?"
"Acknowledged." He said as Wrex moved through the bustling Krogan towards them, looking down on him until he asked, "What is it?"
Reaching out, he laid a hand on his shoulder and said simply, "Thank you, John. Whatever comes, know that from this moment forward you are as Krogan to me. And you have a homeworld here, on Tuchankan soil, if you ever need it. I'll make sure this legend survives for centuries if I have to write the damn thing myself. John isn't a very Krogan name but, eh, I'm sure after today it will be."
"I…" He didn't know what to say to that, he'd just wanted to save the Krogan with so much riding on it, but… He hadn't expected any of this to be a result of that. Nodding, he simply said, "Acknowledged."
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"You're out of your mind…" Primarch Victus said when they returned to the Normandy inside an hour later, standing in the shuttle bay while Vega and Liara used biotics and brute strength to move the old and damaged pod out into the very center of the bay. "Corporal, I don't know what mad Spirits have possessed you, but that is not going to survive landing."
"It won't need to." He said simply, watching the blue Biotics fade as the damaged pod was dropped on the cargo bay floor. "I just need to survive landing."
"That… Is going to be a hell of an ask on a three hour time limit, even with everyone on hand to get it done." The Primarch sighed, shaking his scaly head and giving the still-armored ODST a look. "You sure about this? I can have a Turian strike team here in a few days, hell, I'll move a fleet in if I have to."
"You do that, you'll lose colonies." Shepard pointed out sharply, carrying a crate as large as she was past the Turian Primarch and setting it down in front of the damaged drop pod. "He won't back down from this if that's the price. Will you, Rook?"
"Negative."
"It's a death sentence!" The Turian barked shortly, sounding more resigned than angry somehow and once again shaking his scaly head. Mandibles clicking his agitation, he asked, "Why is that even on this ship?"
"RnD wanted it, whenever we got the time for it." Shepard dismissed easily while the crates it had been behind were moved back against the wall where the pod had been tucked safely away. "Now, turns out, we need the damn thing. So I guess RnD won't be getting their hands on it after all, and I bet that just grinds their gears something fierce. Once Hackett hears about this… Oh boy."
"It's salvageable." For one last drop at least, judging from its state it wouldn't be more than scrap metal after. The bottom and sides were scorched from his reentry at Earth, and the armor had been scarred all to hell in the landing as well. "I'll need a thermal barrier of some kind. The heat protection on the pod itself is gone, and even short tac-drops are too hot for the pod to stay solid without it."
"Kinetic and thermal barriers should do the trick, at least for a little bit." Cortez suggested, once the crates had been arranged to his liking and he could join the conversation, circling with the Primarch and the other two Humans at the base of the pod. "I can get those installed, strap a power system in on the top to make the drop… Should be fine."
"I brought the armor plating." Shepard grunted, waving a hand at the rugged orange-brown crate she'd hauled over. "Tuchankan made for atmospheric reentry and battlearmor on the Tomkahs, out in the badlands. On ships it can take a small asteroid, and on Tomkahs it's meant to stand down Thresher Maws."
"The door?" He asked, looking to the Commander.
"Strap some of the plates across, banded around it, and line the sides in directional charges to blow it off. We wrap the bottom of the pod in the armor, cut holes for the directional thrusters, then wrap it up pod until we run out. Best we got, unless anyone has problems with the idea?" It was a reasonable suggestion, and the only thing they could really bank on with so little time, so no one voiced a protest. Nodding she grunted, "Alright then, order time…"
"Primarch Victus, Liara, get the armor rigging underway. Cortez, you're on the thermal and kinetic barriers, get 'em installed and overclocked. I don't want any failures on that end, strip one out of a damn Kodiak if you need to." Turning, she looked at Liara and went on, "Coordinate with Wrex and Garrus, Liara. I want you and that crazy Turian to head down there with Vega and be ready to assist in the secondary assault as soon as Rook's pod launches."
"And me?" He asked as the others filed off to do their jobs, the woman looking at the ODST sourly.
"Garrus and several technicians are going to get your armor repaired and upgrade your shield with a Spectre variant like the one I use." She said simply, the man nodding understandingly. "You are going to the Med-Bay to get your leg and rib properly treated, and then getting a solid meal and a nap while we work. I'm going to upgrade your rifle with a high-caliber barrel and recoil dampener like your Avenger had."
"I don't need-"
"I don't give a damn what you say you need." She snapped suddenly and quietly, the other soldier flinching. Hard, green eyes landed on him and Shepard took a breath, as though forcing herself to relax. "This is a suicide drop, you know that. And I know that, in your world, these kinds of drops are simple math for you. But not here, and not for me."
"Commander-"
"Shush. Interrupting is rude, John." She waved a hand at him, wagging a finger as though she were chastising him like a mother would a child. ""I want to know why you're so damn adamant about doing this. You have to know this is probably going to kill you…"
"I couldn't save my home world." He said simply, waving a hand weakly at the side of the ship he knew to be facing Tuchanka. "I just…" Words failed him and he sighed, shrugging instead and simplifying it. "I won't let Wrex lose his. Not if I can help it."
The woman looked at him for a long time, her eyes searching his for… Something before she finally nodded in a tired, resigned sort of way, "Alright. I get it. If I was you, in the same position and with the same background… I'd do the same damn thing."
Grabbing his arm, she pulled him into a sudden hug, arms squeezing him tight enough that his armor creaked in protest, she added, "I'm proud of you, Rook. I hope you know that. Another Jack or Grunt, and you better come back so we can meet them." Pulling away she turned, waving a hand over her shoulder, "Get to the Med-Bay, we've all got a hell of a lot of work to do."
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"We'll seal you in once you're settled in." Cortez explained as he climbed over the ribbed armor wrapped like a cinnamon roll around the bottom of his pod, dropping into the seat and accepting the Harrier as it was handed down to him, along with a small wireless detonator that fit snugly into his palm. "That will set of the charges that line it, which will blow most of the ribs of armor out around the pod."
"Acknowledged." He set it aside where he could easily reach it with a nod. The expulsion of the ribbed armor would make a good entry maneuver on the ground, the shrapnel would more than clear out anything around him.
"The Commander is headed down to the ground to join the fight." Cortez went on, smiling reassuringly at him from on top of the pod. "I'll be riding down in my Kodiak too, once you drop and we repressurize the 'Bay. We'll, uh… We'll cover you as best we can, just hit those buttons and hold out. Alright?"
"I will." Or he'd try, at least. "I requisitioned grenades?"
"Yep." He turned, reaching down somewhere he couldn't see from inside the pod, and then handed down the bandolier of grenades. He wrapped the belt around his waist just below his breastplate. "Three of 'em, four second timers. Be careful when you're usin' 'em, though, the Reapers will try and get close."
"Affirmative." He already knew that, but he assumed the man was just anxious. He could practically feel it in the air around him throughout the last few hours. "Tuchankan time?"
"You'll be falling with the setting sun on your back, like you asked." That'd probably be of some help at least. Especially combined with the Krogan assault. "Last check. You got everything you need?"
"Affirmative." The other man simply nodded and slid out of view, leaving the Rookie alone in his pod. The next ten minutes were spent waiting while the last pieces of armor were riveted to his pod, the sound loud enough to trigger his helmet's audio-dampeners. Taking a breath, he murmured, "Feet first into Hell…"
It was certainly going to be crowded when he got there if he had anything to do with it.
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SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT :
For Supporters, in the next coming weeks, I will be releasing the Prologue for my first original content book, Re:Programmed. I've spent the last year working on it, and can't wait to hear what people have to say on it. And I wanted to release some evidence of that, to show everyone what we're doing over here.
It will be Supporter exclusive, though, because without them it wouldn't exist.
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Scarease :
Will bear it in mind.
SO58 :
Yeah, I was building up to this moment the whole time. I figured the two could relate, and thus bond until John refused to let the Krogan lose this. And thus comes the SOIEV back into the frame~
SD Phantom :
I've been anticipating this chapter for weeks, honestly. The payoff to Wrex and Rookie's bond, the camaraderie… I just hope the speech was suitably badass.
Predator 1701 :
Good news, friend~! Have a new chapter.