Author's Note: It's back with a vengeance!
Chapter Fourteen: Aftermath
The spinning globe of the Planet Horizon hung silently in the void. If one were looking closely enough, one would make out a tiny flash of light in the southern hemisphere. It would flash, silently and briefly, before disappearing. The planet would take no notice of this but continue to hang in the void, continuing its perpetual orbit.
Several hours later, many millions of miles away and on the other side of the star system, there was another flash. An observer would only see it if they knew exactly when and where to look.
The system's mass relay activated. Blue white brilliance shone in the dark for but a moment. Out of the flash, four ships emerged into view around the structure. With military precision they orientated themselves towards the planet of Horizon. Their engines ignited and they began at breakneck speed to the planet. Their angled grey and blue hulls catching the light of the system's sun, illuminating the insignia of the Systems Alliance on their flanks.
The taste of dust and smoke lingered in her mouth. The room was dark. The low, orange illumination of the emergency lighting glowed. Sparks of white brilliance flashed in the distance. Electrical cords were rent loose from the wall and structure.
Shepard was on the floor. She coughed. A cloud of dust kicked up in front of her face. Everything ached. Fighting her protesting limbs, she stood. Must have been knocked to the floor in the impact, she thought. She looked round, a bit bruised and sore, but otherwise in one piece. The rest of her party didn't look like they fared much better.
The room was a ruin. Debris littered the floor. Several consoles on the wall had been destroyed. The great, solid concrete beams overhead were buckled and cracked. In some cases, they'd failed altogether.
"Everyone okay?" she yelled out to the room.
A chorus of ayes and groans came back to her.
She surveyed the room. Her yell had startled some back to consciousness. She made her way over to Ashley, who remained still on the floor.
"Ash?" She clasped the marine's shoulder. "Ash, you with me?"
The marine groaned in response, before shifting. "Yes, yes I hear you Shepard."
Shepard let out a breath she'd been holding in. She checked the marine's armour for damage. No obvious cracks or dents, good. Lot of scratching though. Must've happened when the debris got shaken loose from the roof.
Satisfied her former comrade was stable enough, "Good! We need to find out just what happened. What's the last thing you remember?"
The marine was silent for a moment, her expression puzzled. Shepard saw a gash of red on her cheek. A bleed? In the low light it was difficult to make anything out in its diffuse tones of orange.
"Nothing. . . .then a massive noise and screeching. Then the world ended."
"You're bleeding."
"Yeah. Isn't deep, it's fine."
Shepard smiled, "World hasn't ended yet Ash. Not for us at least. Come on, I'll help you up."
She put her arm around her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. Ashley protested, but eventually relented. A barrage of unlady-like curses streamed from the marine's mouth.
"You injured?" Sheppard asked. Fearing the marine might have broken something.
"What? No, no just aches like hell. Fell on my arm badly. Nothing broken. I can still move it fine, it just hurts like shit."
Ashley looked at the commander, "Shepard the collectors, are they gone?"
"You're going to help me find that out, lieutenant." Her former crew member under one arm, Shepard grabbed an undamaged chair nearby and shoved the marine into it. Another series of protests as she slumped up against the control panel.
She considered it for a moment. "They must be gone, or else I don't think we' be waking up like this."
"Yeah the collectors may be gone. . ." realisation beginning to dawn over the lieutenant's face, "but what about the colony Shepard. What happened to it, we all saw that ship fall."
"I don't know Ash." A question she'd been trying to avoid herself. She looked towards the entrance. The doors had been bent out of shape. The crumpled remains of the lift carriage behind them. On top of it, a mountain of rock had filled the lift shaft, smashing the lift car underneath. It was completely unusable.
"We're going to have to find another way out of here." Shepard said. She accessed the terminal, most of the systems were offline. "Ash, can you see if these transmitters are still working? We need to get a message out that we're still down here."
"I'll try, but these machines look pretty banged up. The bunker's built for things like this, but the equipment up on the surface. . ." She shook her head, "It'll be a miracle if it survived an impact like that. "
"Just try ash, that's all I ask. I'll see if anyone else needs help."
"I'll get right on it." she replied.
The four alliance ships drifted into orbit over Horizon. Their sensors and crews in a state of high alert. There had been a warning, a tip off, that it was under attack from an unknown enemy.
All aboard had heard the rumours about colonies in the Terminus Systems going silent, never to be heard from again. No-one knew who was doing it, or why.
They only knew that now, they were the ones assigned to investigate.
Their sensors flashed. A contact! It was small and fast. It was rising up through the planet's atmosphere, out of a strange cloud of EM interference. The crews checked their stations, ready for any eventuality.
Everyone visibly relaxed then, when the contact began broadcasting Council Spectre-level codes.
The small ship sent a request to talk with the commander of the larger ships. It was allowed.
Captain Tomms of the SSV Trident viewed the tac-screen with suspicion. A trap was possible. . . They had hurried here because of a warning of an attack but all they find is a small, lone frigate? A frigate rising up from a strange EM disruption on the surface?
He interrogated the information the sensors were bringing in from the frigate. They were displayed in holo text in front of him. Around him, officers worked in the Trident's CIC.
"Captain!" one of them called out. "The new vessel is requesting to talk to you."
He gave a silent nod, and the crewman redirected the incoming transmission to his earpiece.
"This is Captain Tomms of the SSV Trident responding to a possible attack upon the planet Horizon. Identify yourself!" His voice calm and firm. Laced with the confidence that comes from superior firepower.
The vessel responded. "This is Joker, pilot of the SR-2 Normandy. We're glad you're here sir!"
The captain looked back at the holo data hovering a couple of feet to his right. A pilot? The codes weren't right!
"You're transmitting with spectre codes! Explain yourself."
"Spectre Shepard gave me instruction to transmit on these frequencies to any alliance ships that might show up."
The captain paused for a minute, weighing the situation. Like everyone else, he'd heard about the recent developments on the citadel. A new species discovered and the legendary commander Shepard back from the dead. Good stuff. . .the media were having a frenzy.
"Very well, put me through to her."
"I'm sorry sir, can't do that. We lost contact with her when the collector ship crashed. Her last location was on the surface."
"Collector?" the captain queried. He'd heard of them, galactic bogeymen terrorizing the outskirts of the known universe. No-one back at the academy took them seriously.
"You sure it's not just some puffed up. . ."
"With respect, captain. I am sure. I'm sending you all the telemetry we've gathered. See for yourself. The important fact is that Shepard and her team went to the surface to investigate. We lost contact with them four hours ago. We request assistance in locating them. "
Galactic bogeymen, terrorizing the edges of known space. . .Entire colonies going silent. . . two separate worlds were beginning to slide uncomfortably close for Captain Tomms' liking.
"Very well. Fall in beside and maintain fleet formation. You are not to scurry off without my say so, are we clear?"
"Yes, captain."
"Alright, I want an overview of what happened, starting from when you arrived."
Back on the surface, far away from the capital of Discovery, several grav-vehicles lay parked in a small gulley. It was narrow, with deep natural earth banks on either side and trees covering the ridge lines.
Leaves fell, perhaps more than was normal. Blown clean off the branches by the explosion at Discovery.
Zaeed stood leaning against one of the grav cars. Blowing smoke into the wind. He smelt something on the air, and it wasn't the smoke from his cigarette. Acidic and dry. He didn't want to know the state of the town he and his party had fled.
He flicked the cigarette away and returned to the group.
"Any word?" he asked the security guard. Lieutenant Kaleson and the few that remained behind at the precinct were with him. They had all watched the destruction of the city with their own eyes and were on edge at best. He'd sent the lieutenant and the rest to the top of the ridge line to watch for collectors.
"No, no word yet sir." he frightened youth replied. Jeez, thought Zaeed, he can't be older than 20. . .
The young officer sat in one of the vehicles, an open topped civilian model. He was listening into the only high power comm unit they'd managed to stash with them when they'd made their getaway.
"No worries, keep listenin' " Zaeed replied and made his way to the back car. He listened to the gentle rustle of the wind between the leaves. This place could've been called pleasant, if a collector ship hadn't slammed into a city 5 miles away. . .
He approached the back car. All the doors were lying open. He found Miranda laying across the back seats - a compact medical apparatus still attached to her waist. She was holding a datapad with one hand above her.
He leaned on the doorframe and peered in, "You're supposed to be resting, turn it off!"
"You think I can rest given the mess we're in?" she snapped, then winced at the sudden movement. "The mess I'm In?"
Zaeed grunted. Even from where he stood the wound still looked bad. The bleeding had been stopped for the moment but there were still red patches appearing on the seats below her wound.
"No. But you can bloody try." the old merc replied. Her unimpressed face displayed her enthusiasm.
"Any word?" she asked. Despite her snarky tone, there was the unmistakable trace of concern. A concern the old merc shared.
He looked to the ridge line. "No. Not yet. Whatever was in that thing when it went up is playing havoc with any comm signals. The whole damn city's blank. "
A pause from Miranda. The unspoken meaning heavily pregnant on the air. . .
"They were under it, Zaeed. What. . ."
"She'll pull through. . " Zaeed said, almost to himself.
"Look. Zaeed, I know this must be difficult. I know. . .I know what she means to you."
"Yeah, I know you do." he muttered. He took a small pleasure in noticing the surprise on her face, "You admitted as much in your drugged daze in the infirmary."
"I did? I . . don't remember."
"Well. . . you did. Your concern is noted." he drew another cigarette and lit it. Smoke breathed from his nostrils.
"You needn't worry." he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "My little girl'll pull through."
Under the rubble and ruin of the former turret control centre, there was a lone point of scurried activity. All members were recovered, some wounded, but none dead. Garrus and Jacob were the worst off. Jacob's useless arm limited his contribution to being a second pair of eyes for others. Garrus still lay on the floor, his wounds too grievous to allow him to move.
The rest were preoccupied with getting the comm systems back online. Anyone with any technical knowledge of the systems was helping. The efforts frustrated however, as something was blocking the signal. They'd all seen the large ship go down, but they feared the return of another.
"I don't understand!" Ashley said, her fists were clenched in frustration on the dust caked control surface. "the signal should be getting through!"
Mordin worked beside her. He was looking at the same problem. "Sensors working. Massive EM fluctuation detected on surface. Intense. Parallels with atomic detonation."
"They dropped a nuke?"
"No. Not directly. Collector ship wreckage probable cause. Engine meltdown, fuel leak. Number of things. Will run more tests."
"What about the colony?" If this is what we look like and we're 400m underground. . ."
Shepard approached them, it looked like she overheard the last segment of the conversation. "Let's not think about it, for now we need a way to contact the Normandy and to get out of here. "
The commander was right, still Ashley couldn't help her mind wander. The human brain can be so terribly imaginative when you really don't want it to be. "Agreed, what about the lift shaft? Any luck with that?"
She shook her head. "No, the krogan and imperials tried to budge the rubble.. . But it's entirely filled with rubble and debris. There's no way we're shifting it all"
"So we need to get someone to come dig us out. . ."
"How much air do we have down here?" she asked Ashley.
"Air isn't a problem. This facility was designed to operate in isolation, has its own air recycling. The problem is food and water. We don't have any. This place is only just up and running. Half the desks aren't even in yet."
"Let's hope we don't stay here that long. . "
"Amen to that."
The commander turned to her monitor screen, hoping to dissect some glimmer of hope from the lines of code. "Anything?" Shepard asked.
"Nothing." she sighed, "Systems went out when the ship crashed. Only thing that's working is the emergency beacon."
"I spoke with Hackett about the collectors attacking here before we arrived. With luck, someone's already on their way."
The marine didn't look convinced. "What's the real chance of that? Do you know how many brass and bureaucratic naysayers we had to strong arm our way past just to get these towers here?"
Shepard understood. Alliance aid was a forlorn hope at best. Even with her impromptu advance warning to Hackett there was little chance he'd actually manage to convince anyone that sending something is an acceptable risk.
She looked back up at the marine, the stain of red on her cheek had grown. "You sure that wound's fine?" she indicated.
"Its fine Shepard. I've had the medic look at it. He says it's fine."
She looked at her former commander. "Now I can ask you, what the hell are you doing here?"
Where to start? Shepard thought. She could see the remnants of distrust in the face of the marine. "You said I died. That's actually true. The collectors attacked the Normandy. . ..the first one I mean."
The rigid, questioning mask began to soften a little.
"I died in space. . ." Shepard said, saying it out loud for the first time since it happened.
"I'm sorry. . . I didn't . . "
"No, its fine. Cerberus brought me back. Somehow. Took them years and more money than I could ever believe, but they did it."
The suspicious mask returned. "That's why you're with them now?"
"No. I'm not WITH them!" She was sick of having to make the same point to everyone. "They're helping me investigate these collector attacks, nothing more. No-one else is even bothering to bat an eye."
"Shepard. They're Cerberus."
"I know ash."
"Shepard." She whispered in quiet tones. She looked round. Made sure Jacob was out of earshot. "Alliance intel said Cerberus could be behind the missing colonies. We even got a tip that this one was the next to be hit."
"We got a tip off too. Only from Cerberus. They said it would be collectors."
"Shit! I don't buy this Shepard. Both alliance and Cerberus getting a tip off at the exact same time, with one blaming the other. Something's going on here, commander."
"I know Ash, and I intend to find out. But we both want the same thing here. Protect these colonies. "
"You sure about that? Or is that just what they want you to think? They've never done anything for the public good in the past."
Exasperated, Shepard sighed. "Ash. I will take a battalion of marines, or an Alliance cruiser, any day of the week! I would jump at the opportunity."
She held her arms out, gesturing around her. "But they haven't given me anything. They don't believe me. They refused to see! They gave me no help."
She looked back, "But now Ash," rapped her visor. "We have the whole thing on camera. This place's log, my armour cam's vid feed. The sheer volume of info here! We can finally show them!"
Ashley looked to the screen before back to her commander. Shepard could see the wheels turning. Maybe she could convince her former crewman that she wasn't in league with terrorists.
"Help me Ash! We can do this. We won't even need Cerberus if we can get the alliance on our side!"
She could see Ashley think. There was a struggle there, "I'll. . .I'll help you show this to the alliance. Nothing more. I won't have anything to do with Cerberus."
"Thank you Ash."
A growl of effort. A loud crash of falling rock.
Okeer strode up to the tankborn. It was still trying to dislodge the rubble from the lift shaft. It was futile, anyone could see that. Any headway made was quickly filled by less stable debris on top.
It noticed him. "Okeer."
He nodded back in greeting. "Grunt."
"What are you doing old man?" Grunt asked him.
"Stand still. I need to take readings." He produced a datastick from one of his waist containers and attached it to a small recess in the back of Grunt's shoulder armour. It would relay vital lifesigns and telemetry back to Okeer's omnitool.
"Why?" His voice rumbled. Like a low running combustion engine.
"This is the first time you've been combat tested. I need data." He rapped the controls of his omnitool and began downloading the data.
Grunt scoffed. "I don't need tests. I'm ready." He turned to look at Okeer square in the eye.
Okeer's face turned to a grimace as he indicated the ugly gashes that peppered Grunt's armour. "The wounds you took say otherwise. You're sloppy and uncoordinated. Not unusual for something tankborn such a short while ago."
A snort of anger."This tank born could beat you to the floor, old man."
Okeer's attention was back to the data. "Quite possible. Still, will run the tests and get my data." He prodded the tankborn on the chestplate. A near death sentence for anyone else. "Our race's future depends on your stubborn genetic code, so suck it up and shut up."
In a secluded corner of the room, away from the gathering of the natives and eldar, the three imperials gathered.
"What do you mean warp?" Hayt asked. He was wrapping a bandage around his arm. A minor wound where some debris had fallen on him. He'd been offered medigel by the salarian, but he refused. His ingrained distrust prevailing.
Beware of xenos baring gifts. . .
"The magos here detected a warp signature coming from one of the xenos. The yellow glowing one." Eisenmus replied.
"Yes." muttered Hakkon without looking up. His attention was focused on the inquisitor's armour, making quick patches and highlighting areas for future repairs once he had the proper equipment. His red lens eyes flickered as sparks flew from the welder attached to one of his mechadendrites. "Ozone concentrations match those of warp presence. Radiation spike consistent."
"Was it a daemon?" The stormtrooper asked.
"Evidence suggests not. While warp signature present. Spatial disturbance amplitude far below that of even minor warpspawn. If it were daemon, it could never have entered the materium with that little power." His mechadendrite withdrew and reconfigured into a tool resembling a drill. A high pitched whining sounded as he activated it.
Hayt considered this, "hmm. . .do the eldar know?"
Eisenmus nodded, "They know. The farseer sensed something was amiss before we even encountered the creature. She saw the warp long before Hakkon did."
"What should we do about it?"
"For the moment, nothing. We're trapped under this rubble the same as everyone else here. When we get out of here we'll search their records for anything like what we just saw."
The magos stopped muttering prayer under his breath to interject, "The searches I have made until the present make no mention of anything like what we witnessed, lord."
"We'll search still."
The magos nodded obediently, and went back to work on the armour.
"What of the signal Hakkon?" Eisenmus asked. "Any more news?"
The power tools stopped whining. The magos paused in his work, "My spirits have dissected its data ruthlessly, lord. I apologize but I cannot enhance the quality further."
Hayt leaned in. "What do we do about that? We need to do something, my lord."
"We will wait." Eisenmus saw the look on the stormtrooper's face. The three of them had almost died in a mission that circumstance forced them to participate in. Their collective patience was being stretched.
He made to ease their concern, "Remember the statue in their citadel? Remember when we left it was surrounded in xenos, investigating it and gawping at it."
"Yes. . ."
"We don't want that to happen to whatever there is out there. The signal is imperial. If there's an ally out there, I won't have these xenos swarming over possibly the only connection we have to getting back to where we belong."
The wheels of conflict churned in the stormtrooper's mind. Finally, he nodded, "Aye. Understood lord."
Eisenmus spoke out-loud, almost to himself as he attempted to form his thoughts into a cohesive strategy. "Shepard works for their council. A council comprised of xenos. If she knows, by extension the council knows."
"We can't just head off there on our own, we've got no way to get there."
"No. ." A thought! "Not yet at least. . ."
"You've thought of something?"
The inquisitor looked round, saw Shepard in the distance. Superstitiously feeling if even thinking about his plan would make her suspicious.
"Maybe."
The thoughts and lights of those in the room with her swirled around her. So close. So isolated. Glaedara sat cross-legged on the floor. Away from the main concentrations of people. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the glances and scrutiny from those native monkeigh of this planet. Only five of them were left, survivors of a treacherous gauntlet that left so many of their fellows fallen on the streets above them.
She turned her gaze to the city above them. So little lights. . . so sparsely dispersed.
Above, like a familiar sun now, the overarching light of the imperial trinket, now somewhere in orbit. She felt its presence, its intensity was that strong.
She filtered out the noise and conversations surrounding her. She sought guidance and reflection on recent events. She calmed her breathing, and peered inward.
These things. The collectors, pillagers and raiders of human worlds. They knew of eldar.
The implications were concerning. She recalled its words.
"Eldar, Arrogant, Compatibility Confirmed"
"Simple minds of blood and flesh. Made by those who brought turmoil to the universe. The eldar, ascended. With ascension came peace."
This told her much, but left much unexplained.
They knew of the eldar on sight, which meant they had been spacefaring for centuries, if not millennia. Eldar very rarely actually revealed themselves, either in diplomacy or war, to other races. Interactions between eldar and the other races only occurred once every couple of centuries, and only in times of desperation.
Arrogant - a common term utilised by the younger races to describe those that merely possessed a greater understanding of reality. Another clue, the eldar had preceded this species.
Her hypotheses went to dark places . . 'simple minds of blood and flesh' implying the owner possessed something different? . . .
What worried her most. More than anything, was the knowledge this creature had admitted that was known only to those that choose the path of the historian, who study the history of the Eldar, who strip away the ancient myths and legends and look into the deep past.
To the old ones. . .
"Made by those who brought turmoil to the universe. . ."
They knew of the old ones!
Glaedara knew of only one other race that knew of the old ones. The only other species that was around at the dawn of the galaxy. But they didn't match these collectors. She had never heard of the old enemy having a voice, let alone to voice threats to their opponents. They preferred extermination, these collectors preferred to capture.
Too many blanks. What was she looking for? How were things connected?
Ever since arriving in this new place the warp was quiet. No trace could be found on any of the starships or people inhabiting this world.
That is, of course, until today.
The things that they fought today. They had a presence in the great ocean, but it was disjointed, strange. It existed in a way unlike anything she'd faced.
She thought back . .back to those individuals and occurrences that gave a strange wake in the warp.
That rogue human astropath. . . who could mask his presence behind a veil of interference.
The monkeigh cult dedicated to the she who thirsts. . . .who had discovered a means to draw their power from physical, corporeal stimuli as opposed to the immaterium. .
She winced, the craftworld civil war. . . .so much hate. And darkness. . how the walls had wailed with sorrow . . .never since had she felt so much raw emotion. .
Emotion! That was the word. Those experiences had been driven by emotion, by feeling. The very stuff of the immaterium
Today, no emotion, only a cold, unfeeling exterior. She hadn't been close enough to probe deeper, but even where she had, been she could feel that the typical raw psychic forces of emotion and feeling were absent from whatever the had faced today.
She looked out, seeing if it was still there.
Nothing. Whatever it had been, it was gone now. Probably destroyed in the colossal explosion that took place above them.
She breathed out. She realized she was breathing erratically, it was upsetting her concentration. She brought herself back under control and resumed her analysis.
Her vision. The one . . this Shepard woman possessing the hand of Khaine? Glaedara was more confident in the truth of her vision. It was clear from today that where Shepard went, destruction followed. Letting her mind drift close to the barrier between the real and the immaterial she peered past the light of the sigil and into the warp. Seeking a confirmation of her vision.
Through the haze of psychic light above. She saw glimpses what she saw before, the Shepard woman with the bloody hand of Khaine, over a galaxy screaming in terror.
A ping sounded on the Normandy's cockpit. EDI identified it immediately.
"Mr Moreau, I am picking up a repeating signal from the area surrounding the crash site. It is broadcasting on alliance channels."
"Really? What's it say?" he flicked over to the comm screen to take a look himself.
"It has no content. It is a simple series of repeating pulses. Nevertheless, it displays the characteristics of a deliberate structure."
"I'll take it." Joker responded. Eager to jump on any lead. They'd been out of contact for several hours now. Everyone was on edge.
"How'd we pick it up through the interference? Thought that was blocking all our signals."
"My analytics show the interference is decreasing over time. It has only just decreased enough that I was able to detect it."
"Put me through to Captian Tomms, let's investigate this."
"Connecting you now, Mr Moreau."
A brief pause before the captain's voice came through on the cockpit speakers, "Captain Tomms, what have you got for me?"
"Captain, this is Joker. We've picked up a weak repeating signal from the crash site. Its broadcasting on alliance channels. The interference around the site is weakening over time so we just picked it up. Coming through on these channels" he swiped the controls to forward the relevant channels to the other alliance ships." Can you confirm?"
A pause from the other end of the line. Finally the comm bursts to life again. "We see it Joker." enthusiasm was plain in his voice. "Looks like it's buried under a heap of scrambled junk. Never would have seen it with our sensors if we didn't know where to look."
"I'd like to do a low level sweep, see if we can narrow it down a bit." Partly true, Joker thought to himself. In honesty he just wanted to get back down there and see it for himself. Didn't feel right, sitting up here for hours while god knows what's happening to the team down there. . .
To his relief, there was no hesitation from the captain.
"Acknowledged. Bring back a detailed sweep of the colony. We're prepping recovery parties as we speak. Doesn't look good though, radiation signatures down there are significant."
"Yeah. . I know. Thank you sir, Joker out." The connection with the lead alliance ship cut off as the Normandy peeled away from the star shaped formation hovering over the planet and burned downwards towards the surface.
"Sir!" The young security officer rushed over to Zaeed, almost tripping over himself, "Sir! We've got a signal!"
Zaeed flicked his cigarette away into the wilderness, "Show me."
The pair hurried to the comm set. The officer brought up the relevant data on his omnitool. He pointed to a blip descending through the atmosphere towards the city. "Close. . . and closing."
"Let me see. . ." a weak voice came from behind them. Miranda was limping towards them.
Zaeed grunted. "You should be on your back. Nothing good can come of putting pressure on that wound."
She rounded on him. "I'm not dead and I'm not useless." She turned on the young guard. "Show me the files" she commanded.
She checked the ID "Its the Normandy. . ." she said, relief plain in her voice.
"You sure?" the old merc asked.
"Yes. I am." she turned back to the officer, pulled his arm to get at his omnitool screen and typed in a series of commands. "Return this code. On this channel"
The guard nodded and typed in the code. They waited, a minute, maybe two before they got a return signal.
A signal they were all welcome to hear. "This is the SR-2 Normandy. This is Joker, is anyone down there?"
Miranda leaned in, her voice still weak. She looked like she was putting up an immense struggle. "Joker! This is. . . " cough," this is Miranda. What's your status?"
"Miranda? Its good to hear you. The Normandy's executing a low sensor sweep of the city. Where are you?"
"About 5 kilometers outside of the city boundary. We fled the city before the ship came down."
"What about Shepard and the others?"
She paused for a minute, looked over to Zaeed, who shrugged.
"We don't know Joker. We. .hnngh. .we got separated."
"Miranda, are you ok? You don't sound so good"
"I'm fine Joker , just. . Hey!" she protested as Zaeed snatched the headset off of her. She protested but she was too weak to resist.
"Joker, Zaeed here. We need a med team for Miranda. She's badly wounded. No bloody clue how the rest of 'em are doing. They were right under the bloody thing when it came down. You need to let people on the outside know what's gone on here."
"We already have a small alliance fleet in orbit. They need to know where they can start putting people down to help."
Alliance ships here? "How?. .Never mind. Shepard was going on about the new alliance turrets that got installed. So why don't they start anywhere where they installed their tech in the last few days?"
"Acknowledged. you need to move as well. We're getting radiation readings from all over the city. Whatever was in that thing when it went down does not like human anatomy. Rendezvous at these coordinates. We'll send Chakwas with a med shuttle to bring Miranda back to the infirmary."
"Aye, sounds peachy. Zaeed out." he turned to the device operator. "You get the co-ords?"
"Y-Yah," the man stuttered.
"Alright, we're moving out! That includes you Miranda," he pointed. Their eyes met in a staring match for a few moments before she relented. The stress on her system too much to bear.
She limped back to the car and opened the door. Zaeed helped her in as she moaned in pain from the extra movement.
Minutes later all three cars were in the air. A miniature convoy of survivors heading for the co-ordinates that the Normandy supplied.
The damaged turian lay on the floor next to her. His eyes were shut, he must have heard her, because he turned and opened them when she crouched next to him.
"How're you holding up Garrus?" Shepard asked.
"Shepard. . ." his eyes flickered. His head couldn't stay upright, drifting from left to right.
She waved her hand in front of his vision. "Garrus you with me?"
He chuckled, then coughed." It's fine Shepard. Doc says wounds are as good as he can make them. I've so much medi gel going through my system though. . " He grinned. " is good stuff."
She smiled back, "How many fingers am I holding up?"
Garrus strained. His eyes visibly trying to focus, "Which one? The left you or the right you?"
Shepard grunted in approval and placed her hand on the turian's shoulder. "Keep resting Garrus." she rose to leave.
"Shepard," he called. She turned back. "You're . . .I mean. . I never did thank you. For Omega"
She waved her hand, "Don't worry about it."
"No," he shook his head. "It's important. When you arrived. . I hadn't slept in days, Shepard. I thought you were a hallucination."
She crouched back down next to him, listening.
"I thought. . . I thought it was great. I thought my brain conjured you up. . .see you one last time before the mercs got me. ..
"You were in really desperate spot when we found you, sometimes the brain can make you think things that don't make sense."
"Yeah. . I mean, that's the point. It didn't make sense. But it did . . . It was only after you died, that I . . .that I. ." the turian's speech trailed off. He fell back into a medigel induced haze.
"Garrus?" She tried clicking her fingers in front of him. No response. "Doc!" she called out.
Mordin arrived moments later. He carefully knelt down next to the turian and examined him.
"Ah, sedatives kicking in. Vitals stable. Responding to treatment. Outlook, positive." the salarian muttered in a constant stream. "Don't worry, he's fine. Movement discouraged. Should recover well."
Clink, clink,
A sound of falling rubble echoed through the chamber. Heads turned quickly to the source. They were all too aware of the many cracks in the support beams above them. It would only take one overly stressed joint for a portion of the room to cave in.
Scraping. Rocks grinding. There was something off. It became more regular. It wasn't just the random movement of loose rocks, but large amounts of stone being shifted systematically.
The noise was coming from the lift shaft.
"Hey!" Jacob yelled up the blocked shaft. His voice inhumanly loud in the confined space. "Anybody up there?!"
The scraping stopped.
"Hello?" came a weak noise from above the rubble. "Anyone alive in there?"
"Ha!" cheered Jacob. "Yeah! We're alive down here!"
Some excited murmur from above, "Don't worry. Sit tight we'll get you out in no time!"
"Who are you?" Jacob asked. Shepard walked over to join him by the blocked entrance to get a better listen.
"I'm corporal Mane, Alliance Marine. We've got people in orbit. I've sent someone to radio command and tell them to send down the gear we need."
"Please. . .take your time!" Shepard replied. This was just the news they needed. The alliance were here. Hackett had done the impossible! She felt elated, she looked over at Jacob, who looked the same way. They both laughed.
"Is that Spectre Shepard?" came the voice from above.
"Yes it is, who's asking?"
"Ma'am are you injured?" concern crept into the voice.
"No, not more so than anyone else down here."
A pause from those above. Shepard thought she could hear murmured discussion happening.
The voice returned, "Ma'am, we're setting up a signal booster, orders were to get you in contact with command ASAP."
"Can't that wait until after we're all out of the rubble."
"No ma'am, orders were explicit, sorry."
Thousands of light years away, aboard Arcturus Station, a low ranking communication officer received a high priority communications message from an alliance taskforce orbiting a planet called Horizon.
Priority one message, it blinked with menace on the screen.
She switched comm channels to one connecting to her superior. She heard the connection confirmation tone sound.
"Admiral Sir, we've got a high priority message from the Horizon response force."
"Put it through." Admiral Hackett replied.
In another part of the station, the admiral was sitting at his desk. He was hoping for this call, he wasn't looking forward to the content.
He depressed the receive call button on the holo display. The low static of any digital transmission greeted him.
"Shepard, are you receiving me?"
"I can hear you, admiral." came the confirmation. Sometimes it still amazed him that they could be on other ends of the galaxy and still talk to each other like they were in the same room.
His voice brash, "Shepard. What's the situation? What I'm getting back from the fleet is that the colony's a goddamn battlefield."
"You got my warning?"
"Yes, Shepard. I called in a hell of a lot of favours to get these ships here. Now the colony's a complete ruin. What the hell happened down there?" eager for an explanation.
"What's the damage to the surface?" came the reply, "We've been stuck underground since the collector ship crashed."
Images from ship mounted cams and survey drones were dotted about the holo desktop in front of him. He'd been following the development closely.
"Nearly all the colony is lying in ruins." he looked at one particular image. A location map of the surrounding physical terrain. Near the centre was the colony, much of it now an ugly, dark smear. Trails of smoke issued NE from the blackened, oblong wreckage lying near the centre of the urban area.
"Orbital images show fires still raging on the engine section. Whatever engines that thing had, blew up on impact." he said.
"We activated the defence towers." Shepard said. "We tried to drive the ship away. It worked, the collector ship was fleeing, but we must have had a lucky hit on a critical system. It weathered everything we were throwing at it until one shot took out the engines."
A pause from the other end of the call, "Then it crashed. . .Survivors. . .sir?"
Hackett scratched his chin, the figures were soul crushing. "Very few. So far, the only ones that survived were those trapped in those strange pod things. What the guys on the ground are telling me, they're made out of some sort of material that's extremely dense, as well as resistant to radiation. We're recovering as many as we can."
"The collectors used those pods to transport the colonists back to their ship." she replied.
"How did you know that this colony was going to be the next one hit? And how the hell were you on Horizon exactly when these things attacked?"
"We got a tip off that Horizon had gone dark. We know the first sign of a collector attack is an entire colony's outbound communication system going offline. We got here as fast as we could, but we weren't here when they attacked. We arrived a couple of hours after they'd already overrun the place. When they were loading up the bodies for transport."
"A tip off? From Cerberus?" Something was off here. The alliance had got a message a week and a half ago claiming that Horizon was going to be next hit. They'd suspected Cerberus, and dispatched Williams to investigate.
He looked back at the image depicting the ruins alien ship. He had his views on Cerberus, nearly all negative, but there was no doubt this was something else entirely.
Shepard responded, "Like it or not, they're the reason we knew about this. They're the reason we're having this conversation."
"I don't like it that you're working with Cerberus, Shepard."
"I'm NOT WITH THEM! Apologies sir. No-one else is giving me resources I need to fight these things! Hell! No-one believed the collectors were real! What was I to do? Pretend they don't exist and they'll go away?. . sir."
She made sense. . . "Duly noted Shepard. What you did today . . . seems you took down an alien capital ship with nothing but rifles and your wits. . . But the cost, Shepard. The entire colony's a wreck, thousands gone."
The gravity of the calamity hung in the space between them.
"With this evidence we can convince the higher ups that these things are a real threat" he continued, ". . . but thousands of people are dead Shepard. . .there's going to be a witch hunt."
"What was I supposed to do? If I weren't here the collectors would have taken everyone and left!"
"Shepard. I understand. I'm only warning you of what's to come."
She sighed, "Me and several of my team captured the fight today through our armour cams. I'd like to upload the telemetry to your system."
"Yes. Anything you can give me will help strengthen humanity's case to the council."
"Them? We're going back to begging the council for help?"
"Shepard. You don't know the strings I pulled, the bridges I burned to get these ships here for you today. I'll be surprised if I still have my job next week! Perhaps the only saving grace that'll keep me from a court martial is that you, a newly reinstated council Spectre, were correct about the collectors being a threat. The longer those alliance ships are hovering over horizon, the bigger magnet they're going to be for every pirate, raider or batarian financed privateer this side of the terminus systems. We need to get you, the survivors and those ships home ASAP."
His comm terminal beeped. High priority message from the admiralty board. He grunted, he had been living on borrowed time with this manoeuvre since the ships broke anchor. It had been miraculous that it had taken them this long to get their act together. The light bleeped, demanding to be heard! He couldn't delay the inevitable any longer. . .
"I'm sorry Shepard, I have to go, Stay on this channel. I'll update in two hours, Hackett out."
The recovery teams spent the next several hours continuing to dig at the rubble burying the team. Until, at last, over four hours after the recovery team made contact, they broke through to the cheers of those under the rubble.
The elation quickly turned to concern, when it became obvious the recovery teams were equipped with larger, more bulkier radiation suits.
The concern grew further, when the recovery teams began opening heavy, sealed containers which contained around two dozen heavy, shielded plastic body covers.
The team members explained that these were designed to fit around bulky armour or equipment for transport to or from irradiated areas.
"Fallout." they explained from behind the visors of their sealed alliance suits. "The area's completely flooded with irradiated dust from the engine run off. We've got a winch set up through the debris we've cleared. You'll be hauled up one by one. You'll then head straight for one of the evac shuttles we've got stationed next to the entrance. Do not take your covering off. "
The occupants grimly accepted this and donned their flimsy plastic sheets. Soon everyone looked like vacuum packed food.
She grasped the hand of the marine at the top of the shaft. His silhouette outlined in blinding white from the sun. She was pulled up, her eyes adjusted to the bright light of the surface. As her eyes became used to seeing, the images they showed her were terrible to behold.
The devastation was horrifying. She looked out over the landscape. Grey, brown ash fell from the sky. She stepped forward, the ground beneath her feet crunched. It was burnt and crisp. A thin layer of ash hung over everything.
Her breath misted on the plastic covering a few inches in front of her face. It was desperately hot under it. She brought up a hand to shield her eyes from the harsh glare. A deep shadow lay across the entire colony. The ruin of the collector ship lay on its side. It dwarfed everything. A titanic ruin of burning wreckage. Fires still flared along much of its hull. Pieces of hull the size of office buildings were littered around the colony, each within its own self carved crater of destruction.
The control centre courtyard, once a wide plaza of smooth concrete and parked vehicles, was now an ash covered grey ruin. Blackened detritus littered the area
She continued, as instructed, toward the shuttle ahead of her. She jogged up the ramp and into the compartment. The door closed behind her. Beside her was a window. She looked out through it onto the devastation beyond. Her senses overwhelmed by the scale of the destruction.
A few minutes passed then the door of the shuttle opened again for a brief second. Mordin came rushing through, the door sealing once again after him.
His expression told her his thoughts. She was certain it mirrored her own.
Mordin spoke, his voice quieter and slower than usual. "Much devastation. High damage. Unfortunate. Regrets many."
"Yeah." Shepard replied as she continued to look out over the landscape of ruin.
One by one the team filed out into the shuttles, the transports slowly filling with plastic wrapped crewmembers. Their compartments slowly filling, but remaining silent. Each individual contained with their thoughts.
Finally, once the shuttles were full, they rose and left the colony. The devastation falling away below them. The colony site was visible from orbit, an ugly blackened scar on the pristine, green surface of Horizon.
In her shuttle wee Mordin, Ashley, Jacob and the two Eldar. All still had their plastic cover sheets on. The others were in the other shuttles. Her mind turned to Zaeed and Miranda, how they were getting on. She'd been told by a marine in the recovery party that they'd survived and been picked up by the Normandy, so a silver lining at least.
The shuttles embarked with the fleet, the occupants were met with a collection of rad proofed attendants as they exited their craft. Their plastic coverings were removed and they were put through the sonic decontamination, to ensure any remaining harmful dust particles were shaken off.
When Geiger counters and fleet attendants was finally satisfied they didn't present a threat anymore they were escorted out of the hangar into a briefing room large enough to accommodate them all. It almost resembled a classroom she remembered from her youth. There they waited there for a few minutes, reflecting on recent experiences when an officer arrived.
"Ma'am. Admiral Hackett would like a word in the communications suite."
"This was expected," she said and followed the officer out. They arrived uneventfully and Shepard stepped onto the holographic emitter. It turned on and the image of the admiral appeared facing her.
"Shepard." he said. "I've been pouring over any of your intelligence I can get my hands on. . .It's gruesome stuff."
"Don't have to tell me Admiral."
"I don't think I realised the full extend of the collector problem until I saw what you brought up from the surface. We need a plan Shepard."
"You're looking at me?"
"Quite frankly in the last few hours you've had more experience with these collectors than anyone else in the galaxy. I'm open to suggestions Shepard."
She shrugged, "I can only tell you what we know. When they're about to attack, they disable all communications with a colony. That should be your first warning. As for the a relief force, I'm not sure it would get there in time to help many of the people on the ground. My only suggestion is get there as fast as you can and try to take out their ships when they appear. "
"Rather grim. I'd hoped you would've had a more in depth answer."
"Like you said Admiral, only a couple hours experience."
The admiral nodded sympathetically, "Noted. I'm taking this to the council as soon as I can. Horizon's sacrifice won't be in vain."
"Will they listen?" Shepard asked before she could stop herself, "Even with this?"
"I'll make them listen!" Emotion flaring at the edges of his words. A rare outburst from the man."This is hard, concrete proof." His holographic avatar rapped the screen of the datapad it was carrying. "Even if they don't, the alliance sure as hell won't stand by and watch hundreds of thousands of innocents die. Terminus systems or not."
"Admiral. Are my crew and I allowed to return to our ship? We may have stopped the collectors here, but I've got it on good authority that they may have many more ships like the one down there. I'd like to get back to the task at hand."
The hologram scratched its chin. "There are people that will want your head, Shepard. Especially since the rumours that you're working for Cerberus appear true."
A grin. "But they aren't in this conversation. Get back to the Normandy. Get a head start on them. Get those bastards that did this to our colony!"
"Thank you admiral." She saluted, the only gesture she could give to signal her greatest thanks at that moment.
"Keep me updated. Oh and Shepard. You may work with Cerberus now, but just know there are those of us in the Alliance that haven't forgotten you either." he nodded to the commander, "Hackett out."