AN: Previous chapter edited for accuracy. Please , it's been a long time since I've played this, okay…
Exiting the skylit area, we took an elevator to the second floor.
While it was brief, fitting the eight of us into the small elevator was a task, considering I took up half of it by myself.
Once on the second floor, we got rushed by more of the bugs, which most of us gunned down while the quarian fiddled with what appeared to be a generator.
"CRITICAL STARTUP ERROR. VIRTUAL INTELLIGENCE USER INTERFACE OFFLINE. MANUAL REBOOT REQUIRED." The station VI said.
"Great." the Quarian complained.
As we trudged along, The not-spectre Turian asked me "Where did you get those guns, Medulla? I've never seen anything like them."
"THEY'RE ACTUALLY BASED ON PROTHEAN TECH. AND BEFORE YOU ASK WHERE I GOT PROTHEAN TECH, LET'S JUST SAY THERE WAS MORE THAN BEACONS BURIED ON EDEN PRIME."
"You were the mech on Eden Prime? Were you the one who helped Tali on the Citadel, too?" Shepard asked.
"IS TALI THE QUARIAN? IF SO, YES."
"Why?"
"I WANT HUMANITY TO BE SAFE. THAT'S ALL."
"...If that's the case, why not join the crew of the Normandy?"
"I HAVE MY OWN CONTACTS AND LEADS. WE COVER MORE GROUND IF WE'RE SEPARATE. FOR INSTANCE, I TOOK CARE OF THE THORIAN WHILE YOU RECOVERED BENEZIA'S DAUGHTER. THANKS FOR THE OFFER THOUGH."
"How did you know Benezia's my Mother?" The Asari asked.
"SIMPLE. I WAS TASKED TO DO THE SAME THING SHEPARD DID. I SIMPLY THOUGHT A HUMAN COLONY UNDER ATTACK WAS THE HIGHER PRIORITY."
"...You're not Alliance, are you?" The Male not-Shepard Marine inquired. Damn, I have to learn these people's names.
"NOPE. HAVE NOTHING AGAINST THE ALLIANCE, OF COURSE. BUT BETWEEN YOU AND ME, I DON'T THINK I'D PASS THE FIRST PHYSICAL. I SUFFER FROM CHRONIC ASYSTOLE."
Shepard groaned.
"Asystole means he doesn't have a heartbeat." He explained.
"...That joke was horrible." The male Marine said, bluntly.
"I THOUGHT IT WAS CLEVER."
We found the power core in the next room and Shepard descended into it.
About two minutes later, a steady stream of curses ascended from the depths.
Three minutes after that, Shepard came back up, looking triumphant.
When he did, the VI appeared.
"IT LOOKS LIKE YOU ARE TRYING TO RESTORE THIS FACILITY. WOULD YOU LIKE HELP?" it asked.
"...THEY BROUGHT CLIPPY BACK?"
"Yes, I'm Commander Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. I'm looking for Matriarch Benezia."
"SHE RECENTLY TOOK A TRAM TO THE RIFT STATION. HOWEVER, THE TRAMWAY IS CURRENTLY INOPERABLE."
"Why?"
"THE MAIN REACTOR HAS BEEN SHUT DOWN IN ACCORDANCE WITH CONTAINMENT PROCEDURE. MANUAL RESTART REQUIRED. ALSO, THE LANDLINES ARE OFFLINE."
"I see. Thank you."
We then continued down the hall, and once again entered a cramped elevator.
After we gunned down the bugs, I walked over to a server and pushed a button.
"LANDLINES ENABLED."
"WELL, THAT WAS EASIER THAN I EXPECTED IT TO BE."
We descended the elevator again. I think the Krogan's eye was twitching.
From the main area, we went down yet another sardine can elevator.
Now I know the Krogan's eye is twitching.
At the bottom of the elevator was a deployment of Geth. These models seemed to hop around like frogs or something. I fire my gatling full auto, but even with the high volume of fire and my targeting systems, their erratic movements make them hard to hit.
As I was distracted by the 'hoppers', I was caught off guard when my shield depleted.
The cause? The Geth Destroyer with a shotgun that was within arm's reach.
Using my newly downloaded Martial Arts skills, I grab the gun arm of the Geth, and redirect its aim before it gets another shot off. I then uppercut it repeatedly in the head, until the head tore free, pulling a decent amount of its spinal strut with it. As such, the head was a good two feet in the air above where it was supposed to be, held in place by the metal pole that used to be its spine.
"YEAH, I AM A ROCKIN' SOCKIN' ROBOT! SUCK IT, MIRANDA! THE KUNG-FU MECH HAS PROVEN ITS WORTH! HELL YEAH!"
"...This is just plain wrong in so many ways." The Turian Spectre commented, staring at the maimed Geth with a look of wariness.