Salvation: Episode I - The Taking of the Carmenta Illustria
Disclaimer: This fan-fiction is part of an episodic series taking place after Salvation: A Half-Life/Mass Effect Universe Fan Fiction, which will lead directly to its sequel, Salvation II: Project Prometheus. These episodes and sequel take place OUTSIDE of the Mass Effect 3 continuity. Characters property of their respective companies, Half-Life created by Valve and Mass Effect created by Bioware.
Chapter 26: Untouchable (Part III)
The Rage and the Quietus
"Watch your head!" Davix snidely jeered, as he continued to hold the thrashing human down.
Gordon watched, in a panicked state, as the elevator came plunging down, towards his face. He tried desperately to pry the powerful turian's arms off his neck and shoulders, but they proved immovable. In rapid need of another strategy, he tried throwing a few feeble punches up at his assailant's face. But with the turian's cast-iron arms blocking his movements from the position he was laid out in, coupled with his weakened, exhausted state, this proved to be of little benefit. Suddenly, as Gordon tried pushing against Davix' face and jaw in a desperate, fevered pitch, a message flashed across the heads-up display of his targeting visor, in bright, blinking red letters.
PROXIMITY ALERT - HAZARDOUS MASS DETECTED.
MOVE NOW TO AVOID IMMINENT DECAPITATION.
As the elevator car loomed ominously above, only about two floors up now, Gordon moved his hands around the turian's face, looking for an eye to gouge, or for flesh to rend and tear. What he found instead was Davix' two protruding mandibles, on either side of his jaw. As the elevator came slicing down, just about a foot and a half away from his face, and closing in fast, the desperate physicist took hold of the two jutting appendages, as if they were bicycle handlebars, and with all his might, began prying them apart.
"ARRRGGHHHH!" Davix cried out in tormented agony, as he felt the flesh at the sides of his jaw begin to rip. He swiftly and instinctively yanked himself back, pulling Gordon up, along with him, just as the elevator slammed into place. It did manage to clamp down and snag a small clump of Gordon's dark brown hair, from the rear of his head. But this didn't seem to faze him in the slightest, as the only thing he was concerned with, was clinging on to those alien extremities like a lock jawed pit-bull.
"OWW! OWW! AHHH! LET GO! LET GO! LET GO!" Davix screamed out, in a torturous plea, with his eyes clenched shut, in anguish, as Gordon mercilessly continued to pry his mandibles apart, as if he were trying to split the turian himself in two.
The seasoned mercenary flapped his hands about, overwhelmed with unbearable pain, before his training suddenly took over again. It was perhaps instinct, and instinct alone that compelled him to interlock his arms, at the wrist, above Gordon's, and thrust them downward; breaking the human's pincer-like hold, and clamping Freeman's forearms down against his own armored chest.
With his jaw relieved and Gordon's limbs locked securely in his grasp, Davix spun himself around; swinging the human into the nearby, towering kitchen rack - every shelf of which was packed to the brim with exotic spices, herbs, and seasonings. He collided against it, back first, sending it all crashing to the floor, as the rack toppled over, like a giant domino, with him on top of it. Crash! A resounding racket announced the cloud of spiced, multi-colored dust that was suddenly kicked up when the multitude of glass bottles and jars shattered on impact, with the floor.
Miranda looked up in a daze. Her ears rang, and the blurred room seemed to spin around her, like a top. She wasn't entirely sure of where she was, or what was happening. But a bright, glinting flash above her head seemed to catch her attention. Her glassy eyes turned up, and watched a long, razor sharp, serrated blade brilliantly gleaming in the light, like a sunray. And as she saw it slowly drawing closer and closer to her forehead, the gravity of the situation immediately came surging back to her. Miranda gasped. Her eyes flew open with terror, as she suddenly snapped out of her stupor, back to a fully conscious state.
The instant before the jagged razor edge could touch her hairline, Miranda reached up, and grabbed the asari's armored wrist. She trembled turbulently, mustering every last bit of strength left in her, just to hold Teshya's arm back. She could actually hear the deranged mercenary laughing over her, as the glinting blade continued to inch towards her scalp.
"Arghhhh!" Miranda let forth a crying moan, as the razor sharp teeth lightly touched the tip of her hairline, and very slowly began to grate into her flesh.
As a tiny droplet of blood leaked out of the diminutive laceration, Miranda's opposite hand was in the process of moving backwards - down towards her hips, and the asari's planted foot.
"Ahh!" She abruptly cried out again, as Teshya yanked her hair back further, as if she were reining in a horse.
At that instant, Miranda grabbed the asari's ankle and yanked it forward as hard as she could, taking Teshya's feet completely out from under her, and causing her to stumble backward and drop the knife; thus ceasing her twisted scalping ritual.
Miranda scuttled forward, grabbing the knife in the process, before rapidly scrambling to her feet. She stood up, panting heavily, as she dabbed her fingers against her stinging forehead. When she pulled them away, an enraged sneer grew on her face, as she saw the light coating of blood, on her fingertips.
"You twisted, psychopathic bitch!" The operative snarled, while the asari took her time getting back up, in no obvious hurry. "You tried to SCALP me?!"
"You know, they say there's one thing ALL krogan fear…" Teshya said in response, with an indifferent shrug, as she nonchalantly crossed her arms. "…And that's having the brow plates peeled off of their heads. I figured, if something like that could scare a krogan, the same thing would work fairly well on ANY species. So far I've been right… Twelve times, hehehe…" She bestowed, with a devious cackle. "You'll be lucky number thirteen."
"…Bitch." Miranda spat the word out, through gritted teeth, as a seething glare brewed to the surface of her countenance. "No one… touches MY hair."
"Hmph, we'll see."
"You dirty fighting mother fucker!" Davix chided, indignantly - holding two fingers to either side of his tightly clenched jaw, as his mandibles flapped back and forth.
While the turian tried to recover, Gordon sat up on the bulgy shelf edges of the downed rack, vigorously rubbing his eyes, through his holographic lenses. The pungent, seasoned dust, which irritated his eyes and tickled his throat, had started to settle and waft away. But even before he could fully regain his vision, Gordon quickly tried to scramble back to his feet. He pushed himself up against one of the shelves, when his hand suddenly slipped through it, and landed on something firm and bulky on the floor, lying underneath the knocked-over spice case. As Gordon looked down, his red, teary eyes opened wide in astonishment, when he suddenly noticed Davix' hefty, silver, assault rifle. Gordon swiftly shuffled over and, using both hands, tried to pry the weapon out, but it was firmly pinned beneath the shelves of the downed rack. He maneuvered his feet between the shelves, and firmly planted them on the ground to take the weight off of the rack. With the burden lessened, Gordon clamped his hands around the muzzle of the weapon, and began wriggling it back and forth, in a feverish attempt to jar it free.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you, you don't fuck with a turian's mandibles in a fight, pyjak?!" Davix demanded to know, as the throbbing from his jaw started to subside. He turned to look over at Gordon, just in time to see the heedless physicist raising his zest coated assault rifle up, from between the shelves of the massive spice rack. The mercenary's eyes flew open, as he immediately charged in.
Gordon fished the weapon out, by the muzzle, and in the split second it took him to turn and aim it, the contentious turian was already bearing down, on top of him. Davix clawed at the rifle, forcing the barrel up towards the ceiling, as he dove onto Gordon, tackling him back down onto the rack. The two men wrestled with a fury, as they vied for control of the powerful firearm. They tussled and thrashed - rolling around on the hard, bulgy shelf edges of the flat laying kitchen rack.
Davix rolled himself over the audacious human, and mercilessly started pummeling his midsection with a series of rigid knees, as if he were trying to burrow a hole straight through the man.
"Argh!" "Umph!" "OOOF!" Again, and again, the physicist's solar plexus was traumatized, as knee after brutal knee found its mark.
With Gordon already weakened, and fading fast, Davix tore the rifle right out of his grip, and began turning it down towards his head. The length of the weapon, however, gave Gordon the split second chance to put his hands in, and push up against the muzzle of the gun. Even so, with the turian's strength quickly overpowering his own, the barrel continued to creep closer and closer down to Gordon's head.
Miranda inhaled deeply. She could feel her limbs trembling and her heart racing in her chest, as she tried to steady herself. She and Teshya stood motionlessly eying each other from opposite ends of the dining hall, like two dueling gunslingers waiting for the chime of high-noon. Still enervated, Miranda did her best to ignore her pained and fatigued body, as she clenched her hands into fists, and put them out at her sides - igniting them once more into a pair of brilliant, luminescent, azure fireballs.
In a show of one-upmanship, the asari's eyes grew aflame, and the same cerulean radiance washed over her entire body, transforming her into a walking conduit of pure biotic energy. Wasting no more time, Teshya suddenly took off, without warning - becoming nothing more than a whizzing streak of blue light, racing towards Miranda, with a biotic charge.
Miranda's eyes opened wide. Like a blur, one second the mercenary was nothing but a blaze of light, and the next second she was directly in front of the fair-skinned brunette, delivering a rapid right hook into her face, followed by a left. Miranda was whipped back and forth, before trying to regain her equilibrium, and replying with a flaming, biotic fist of her own. But she swung furiously, and missed - hitting nothing but the air, as Teshya zipped away on a streak of energy. It was only a momentary lapse, as in no time flat the blur of light zoomed in again to deliver another three alternating shots, before zooming back out once more.
The glow from Miranda's fists involuntarily dissipated, as she wobbled around like a punch-drunk boxer on her last legs. Seeing an easy target, Teshya furrowed her brow, and curled her lips into a malicious grin, as she hunkered down, like a football player on a line of scrimmage.
All of a sudden… Fwoom! Her biotic charge sent her blazing across the dining hall floor, with the brunette operative in the crosshairs.
"Ummph!" Miranda grunted, as the dead-on blitz sent her flying backwards, before landing, back first, onto the hard, unforgiving, terrazzo floor.
"Hmhmhmhm..." The sinister asari chuckled under her breath, observing her handiwork, as the glow enveloping her body slowly faded away.
But somehow Miranda refused to quit… Ever strong-willed and intrepid, she rolled onto her hands and quivered, as she weakly tried to push herself up, off the ground, where conventional wisdom would've dictated that she stay down. The brash, arrogant look on Teshya's face was instantly washed away, and replaced with a look of shock, awe, and disdain.
"Okay… You're tough for a little, human, slut. I'll give you that…" She said to herself, with a nod of her head, as she slowly started to back away from Miranda - putting a good distance between them. "But let's see how tough you are after I hit your ass with a singularity…"
The turian aggressor laughed maliciously, as he slowly started to overcome his debilitated human rival. As the aimed barrel of the gun inched down to a spot just above his head, Gordon summoned every last reserve of strength, stamina, and fortitude locked up, deep inside. He released the muzzle of the gun, with his left hand, leaving 100% of the burden, on his right.
"This game is over!" Davix exclaimed in a deranged voice, as the rifle barrel crept down to a spot dangerously close to the peak of the human's skull.
Gordon's free hand skimmed across the floor under the shelves, searching for something with his fingers. That's when he felt a thick, powdery mound, laced with bits and shards of broken glass. The skilled mercenary slowly started to squeeze back on the trigger, just before the deadly end of the gun could hover over the human's lacerated forehead. Gordon clenched his eyes shut, snatched up a handful of the powdery substance, and all of a sudden…
"ARGHH! AHH! AHHHH!" The turian let forth a series of harrowing, agonizing wails, when Gordon flung the burning, abrasive dust into his eyes. All at once, Davix released the rifle, and brought both hands up to his face, as he stumbled away, backwards, in a blinded, berserk frenzy.
Inversely, Gordon took firm control of the weapon and scurried forward in a dash, trying to put as much distance between himself, and the adroit turian, as possible. He scampered ahead, and collapsed down into the far corner of the room, where he landed on top of a few stray burlap sacks of fresh ingredients gathered there. One of which split open, and spilled out an avalanche of raw, marble-like legumes.
Gordon clutched the firearm and aimed it out. He panted and wheezed, as he sat in the corner, vigilantly scanning the area with the rifle barrel whipping back and forth, like a sprinkler head. But there was no sign of the turian. Clearly, he had enough presence of mind to know when to retreat. Gordon could hear a faint scampering sound, clear on the opposite side of the kitchen. But with no danger in immediate vicinity, he had no choice but to allow himself a moment to recover.
Freeman cringed and took deep, rapid breaths in droves, as he held his ribs and stomach with one arm, while keeping the assault rifle aimed and balanced on his knee, with the other. He could taste blood pooled in his mouth, and his body was riddled with pain, from his face to his legs, and everything in between. No grave harm had been done to him, at least nothing that would leave any sort of lasting damage - but he had fresh cuts, split stitches, shards of glass and jagged dust embedded into his flesh, and new bruises on top of old ones…
Meanwhile, on the other side of the kitchen, Davix stumbled about, in blind, feverish daze, as he felt around for something he could use to alleviate the scorching sting in his eyes. His face was marked with the traces of some sort of red powder. It could've been anything from cinnamon to cayenne pepper, to something more alien, and exotic. But whatever the substance was, one thing was certain; it was caustic to the eyes. With his hands waving around at his sides, he suddenly ran into something. As he felt around to see what it was, he could make out a nozzle at the end of a long, curved pipe. He realized, almost immediately, that it must be one of the multiple kitchen sinks in the galley, and his hands quickly explored the region for a means to turn the water on.
The sound of running water snapped Gordon to attention, as he immediately wrapped both hands around the rifle properly, and aimed it out. He waited for some sign of movement, but from his vantage point on the floor, he could hardly make out a thing. He fervently tried to scramble to his feet, but in his haste, he suddenly slipped back down, as his footing was taken out from under him by some of the stray, bead-like legumes that had escaped the ruptured burlap sack beside him.
"I'm going about this all wrong…" Gordon thought to himself, as he sat there with his weapon brandished - taking another second to properly appraise the situation. "I'll never beat him… Not like this…"
Just then, he glanced down at the culprit beads that claimed his footing. As his eyes narrowed, he picked one of them up, and examined it in his hand. It was some sort of strange foodstuff, a bit smaller than a ping-pong ball, but roughly the same round shape. It was pale-yellowish in color, mottled with tiny lavender specs. And it felt dense, heavy and solid. Gordon turned his attention down towards the brown burlap sack that previously housed it, and read the words printed on the outside: 100% Organic - Thessian Grown Estania Beans.
Just then, as he rolled the plump, heavy, little bean, around between his fingers, his emerald pupils began to flutter back and forth rapidly, behind his visor…
Miranda staggered to her feet, with her back turned to the ruthless mercenary. As she stood up, her legs buckled under her weight, causing her to collapse down to one knee again. Teshya looked on, shaking her head and waiting with sinister intent, as this perseverant human flea continued to challenge her, rather than just accepting her inevitable fate.
The seemingly invincible asari combatant closed her eyes, and held her right hand out in front of her, palm up. Gradually, she began to conjure every last ounce of biotic energy surging throughout her being, straight into the opened palm. It grew, glowing and pulsating, as it accumulated into a blinding orb of raw, unbridled power. And there she held it, pulsing and resonating like the heartbeat of a god, in the palm of her hand, as she waited for the fair-skinned brunette to reacquire a vertical base.
Once more, Miranda ascended to her feet, in a weary stupor, and slowly began to turn herself around. As she looked up, the last thing she saw was the piercing, vengeful gaze of an asari Blood Pack Mercenary. Teshya flung her hand out in front, sending the pulsating orb of abyssal energy zooming out, straight towards Miranda.
The brilliant sphere of light, with a darkened core, stopped just before making contact with the brunette's chest, and immediately she felt it draw her in, with an immense gravitational field.
"Humph!" Miranda grunted, as she was sucked in towards its center. It froze her there, in place - an irresistible force that she was helpless to fight against. As Miranda suddenly realized what was about to happen, she looked up at Teshya with an appalled and terrified look in her eyes - a look the asari had yet to see. A look that she absolutely reveled in...
"Say goodnight, bitch." Teshya whispered, with a cruel, heartless twinkle in her eyes.
All of a sudden, the dining hall itself seemed to quake, and every item within the once lush room began to rattle, and quiver. The force seemed to grow stronger, just then. Tables and chairs started sliding across the floor, gravitating towards the source of the pull, before being wholly snatched up and sucked in!
"Argh! Umph! Ungh!" Miranda cried out, again and again, as a salvo of furniture veered into the epicenter of force - repeatedly smashing against her in the process.
"No…!" She exclaimed, in a pained, fading voice, with her eyes clenched shut, as she desperately tried to break free. But it was to no avail… "Please, no!"
"Mmmmmmmrrr…" Back in the kitchen, a blonde haired reporter, laid out on the kitchen floor, exhaled a groggy, creaky groan, as her eyelids slowly began to split open. There was a large red knot now prevalent on her forehead, and her head throbbed like nothing she'd ever felt before, as she tried to snap herself back into consciousness. When her eyes opened up, she looked across the blurry floor, as her vision slowly started coming back into focus. Just as it did, a pair of heavy leaden, burgundy, metallic boots stepped into her field of view. She turned to look up. Her eyes opened wide with terror and her mouth split open for a shriek.
"Mmm-mmmph!" Just before the scream could escape her lips, a strong, tri-fingered hand wrapped itself around her mouth, and forcibly dragged her up, to her feet.
Meanwhile, in the far corner of the vast, penthouse-sized kitchen, two jade eyes meticulously scanned the area, as Gordon guardedly rose to his feet - rifle in hand. With the utmost vigilance, and his finger firmly wrapped around the trigger, Gordon held his breath, as his eyes surveyed the galley, in search of any discrepancies or the slightest signs of movement. He could hear a peculiar rumbling sound emanating from the adjoined dining hall, which worried him a great deal, but his pressing problem was the turian, who seemed to vanish without a trace.
Gordon gulped, as he very slowly began to move forward, stepping around the downed shelf, into the main interior of the kitchen, with a very light tread. He spun himself around, in small circles, to assure he wouldn't get caught off guard from behind. But apart from himself, the kitchen appeared to be completely empty.
Without actually looking down at his newly acquired weapon, Gordon adeptly flipped a tiny selector switch on the side, with his thumb. A bright red, holographic light, in the shape of a flaming bullet, lit up above the rifle, indicating he had activated the firearm's incendiary shot mode. He made his way down an aisle, between two of the counters, rotating himself around in all directions, like a slow turning top, with his weapon clutched tightly, and aimed straight out in front, at all times.
The pounding and thundering from the adjacent room continued to grate on his thoughts and apprehensions, as he feared what horrible things could be happening. But he forced himself to subdue his emotions, and keep his senses sharp - for if he let himself get caught off guard now, there'd be nothing he could do, either way.
"God damn it, where is he?!" Gordon shouted out, in his own mind - clenching his teeth to the point of breaking them, as beads of sweat condensed and rolled off his forehead. Just then, he got an idea, as his keen eyes continued to inspect the area. Stopping for just a moment, he took one hand off the weapon, and brought it to the side of his targeting visor. He summoned a tiny, holographic control panel on the side, and began manipulating it. A short list of visual modes appeared in his heads-up display:
Night Vision
Infrared
Ultraviolet
Motion Tracking
Thermograph
Short Range Sound Navigation and Ranging
Making a quick assessment, he scrolled through the list, landing on thermograph, and selecting it. Suddenly, his field of view was transformed into a blotchy spectrum of dull blues and violets, and radiant oranges and reds. As he looked up, he suddenly found he could now see clear through the kitchen wall, into the dining hall. His jaw fell agape and his eyes pronounced a look of horror, as he observed two feminine figured, orange blotches, against a backdrop of dark blue. One of the figures in the neighboring room showed little movement or signs of life now, as she was seemingly being buried alive, by the other.
"Miranda…!" Gordon exclaimed, with a fearful gasp. He clutched the rifle, and started for the exit. But before he could take two steps, he was stopped dead in his tracks, by the sound of a shouting voice.
"Hold it!" Davix hollered, causing Gordon to skid to a stop and swing back around, with his rifle primed.
As Freeman looked on towards the source of the sound, he watched the wooden door to the kitchen's walk-in pantry, nestled in the far back corner of the room, slowly creak open. A pale-faced grimace overtook his expression, as he slowly, and reluctantly, lowered his weapon.
There, at the entryway, stood a quivering Cameron Mclane, frozen in fear, as her eyes pleaded for rescue with a look of unfathomable terror. There was a black, armored glove wrapped around the back of her neck, and a sharp fillet knife pressed against the center of her throat, as an outline of burgundy armor could be made out, standing behind her.
"Help me…!" Cameron begged of Gordon, in a shaky, whimpering whisper, as twin tearful rivulets poured from her eyes, and ran down her cheeks. "Please…!"
"You're gonna give me that fucking gun-" Davix decreed, as he shoved the blonde haired reporter out of the pantry, from behind, and walked her into the same, long aisle where Gordon was standing. "-right now… Or else, I am going to hack my way through this pretty little thing's throat until I cleave the bone, get the picture?!"
Within the once lavish, and exquisitely adorned dining hall, an ex-Cerberus Operative stood at the center, chest deep in debris, as her head hung limp. It didn't take long for every table and every chair… every wine glass, and champagne bottle… every instrument from the small orchestra's stage, and every chandelier hanging from the ceiling, to be ripped from its proper place, and sent tumbling and hurtling straight towards the unmoving beauty - striking her with a vicious barrage of blows, and continuing to bury her under a mass of furniture, and dinner ware. It didn't seem to be affecting her anymore, though, as a light trickle of blood dripped from her lip… Every sadistic blow was just another heinous insult, to an already grievous injury.
Soon came the darkness… Everything faded to black, as the porcelain skinned brunette, in a tattered red dress, was completely entombed under a colossal mound of refuse. As the final stray items in the dining hall piled on and the singularity began to lose its strength, the only thing left visible of the valiant operative was a single, soft skinned hand, reaching out of the accumulation, towards the ceiling, like a lonely hand reaching out of the grave, towards the moonlight. It was a grim sight when her outstretched fingers slowly curled back, and her hand fell limp, and lifeless…
Gordon's eyes kept darting around, with his head constantly turning back towards the exit, when the sounds from the other room seemed to die. And he feared that it wasn't the only thing.
"Hey!" The enraged turian snarled, as he pulled the knife closer to the whimpering, trembling reporter's throat - treacherously using her as a human shield, before him. "Pay attention!" He snapped. "I said give me the gun!"
"You don't have to do this!" Gordon implored, in a shaky voice - fearful of what was happening in the other room, as he raised the rifle again. "Please!"
"Put the gun on the fucking counter, and SLIDE IT OVER TO ME!"
"No. Listen, just let her go!" Freeman pleadingly tried to bargain. "Please! This doesn't have to go any further!"
"Alright then, that does it!"
"Ahhh!" Cameron cried out in pain, as Davix jerked her neck back and sliced a light flesh wound into her skin, with the razor sharp fillet knife.
"No, no, stop! Stop! Stop!" Gordon conceded, as he held the rifle up, and pointed it towards the ceiling. "You win! I'm putting it down, see…?" He announced, as he pulled the weapon away from his body, and began lowering it.
"On the counter." The nefarious turian instructed. "Slide it over to me."
Heeding his words with the utmost importance, Gordon laid the rifle flat on the counter, next to a stray frying pan, and a tall glass bottle of red cooking wine. With a swift push, he then did as the aggressor dictated, and sent it sliding across the long, metal countertop, in the turian's direction.
Davix grinned, as he watched the rifle come to a stop, just beside him, with its incendiary fire mode still active. Having no further need of his hostage, he decided to dispense with her, knowing she'd soon be met with the same fate as her human companion, anyway. He gave her a hard, stiff, shove forward, causing her to stumble towards Gordon, while immediately snatching up his assault rifle, and aiming it at the hard to kill physicist.
Gordon reached out, catching Cameron by the shoulders before she could topple to the floor, from the push.
"Oh my god, Dr. Freeman, what do we do?!" She beseeched, in a frightened, whimpering voice, as she stood up beside Gordon, clutching at his arm and shoulder.
"It's alright, just get behind me…!" Gordon entreated, as he extended his arms to the sides, forcing Cameron to his rear, and putting himself between her and the sinister turian, like a brick wall. "Whatever happens, just stay behind me."
Unexpectedly, Gordon felt two hands clutch at his shoulders, as McClane took the advice to heart. She clung to him, pressing herself directly to his back. He could feel the trembling of her body, the panicked respirations in her chest, and thunderous, fearful drumming of her heart against his back.
"You put up a good fight, prick. I'll give you that." Davix nonchalantly interjected, as he aimed the barrel of his gun straight up at the bridge of Gordon's nose. "Most people would've stopped getting up after less than HALF of what I did to you. But let's be honest... Even if you managed to get a few shots off, you never would've stood a chance against my armor and k-barriers. So this is the end of the line… Any last words…?"
"Don't do this." Gordon sternly put forth, with a slow, calculating shake of his head. "I promise you, you won't win."
His eyes were cold and unafraid, and his brow was clenched as tightly as his fists and chest. This wasn't a frightened request or a plea for mercy he was making. This was an order, plain and simple.
"Pfft…!" Davix scoffed and laughed. "You sure you want THOSE to be your last words."
All done with words, Gordon looked over to the counter, and rapidly snatched up the gleaming, silver frying pan he had seen, by the handle.
"Heh…" The turian chuckled, keeping his guard up, and shouldering his rifle, when he saw this. "And just what do you think you're gonna do with THAT…?"
He didn't have to ask twice. Without warning, Gordon swung the frying pan, edge first, at the tall, nearby bottle of red cooking wine, shattering it on impact, and causing it to splash and spray wine and glass in the turian's general direction. Davix turned his head away, only slightly - shielding his eyes, but never once averting them, as he was abruptly drenched in the dark red, alcoholic liquid.
"Grrr…" Davix seemed to growl in his throat, as he looked down at himself, dripping with spirits. Just then he looked back up at Gordon who, for some reason, hadn't made a single solitary effort at neither escaping, nor attacking. Davix scowled, as he shook his head and lined up his sights, coaxing Gordon to wince, and shield his face with the frying pan. The turian gently began to squeeze back on the trigger.
"Lights out, asshole." He uttered, when suddenly…
BOOM! "ARRGHHH! AHHHH!" A concussive explosion, followed by a harrowing, blood curdling series of wails and screams echoed throughout the kitchen, as Davix' rifle suddenly and inexplicably exploded in his hands, like a frag grenade, without firing a single shot.
The maligned turian's alcohol soaked armor and face ignited. Almost immediately, he was consumed by a massive, scorching fireball, which reached all the way up towards the ceiling. The mercenary at the brightly burning core of this raging inferno flayed and thrashed his arms around wildly. He stumbled about in a violent, panicked frenzy, with his flesh cooking and sizzling from the outside in. To his grave misfortune, his metallic armor actually worked to intensify the dire circumstances - acting like a pressure cooker, and broiling him alive within his own protective shell.
Gordon looked on, simply shaking his head with a pitied look in his eyes, as the turian, engulfed in a raging hellfire conflagration, finally collapsed to the floor, when the ship's fire suppressant system kicked in.
"Davix! Teshya! Somebody come in!" Kargas persistently bellowed into his radio, but the only response he got was the same as it had been for the past ten minutes… A mocking crackle of static.
"Anything…?" Kim dubiously questioned, as he looked on.
"No." Kargas asserted, as he shook his head, with a grimace. "No response. Just silence…"
"We are en voyage towards dire straits, gentlemen…" The stout volus in the Captain's cap nervously announced, with a hissing breath from his respiratory. "Shepard's presence on-board this ship has proved far more troublesome than I initially anticipated…"
"Hey. I'm sure Davix and Tesh can handle themselves, alright?" The fog-eyed Kim adamantly affirmed, as he briefly glanced down towards Tarrik, before returning his attention to Kargas. "And we don't even know what's going on. Was Shepard alone when they found him? What deck were they on?"
"I don't know what deck." Kargas explained, with a shake of his head. "The comm cut off before I could ask. And it wasn't Shepard at all. It was that other human."
"Other human…? What other human?"
"That uh… The one your security lackey told us about - with the stuff on his face." The krogan struggled to explain. "The facial fur and the targeting visor."
"Freeman…" Tarrik offered up, in a fearful, foreboding tone.
"Yeah, that's the one. Freeman." Kargas acknowledged. "All they said was that they had him. That they caught him crawling around in the vents, and then I lost radio contact…"
"Oh, I knew it!" Tarrik exclaimed, with a gasp, and a wheeze from his suit, as he restlessly began to pace around in small circles, nervously rubbing his hands together. "Oh, this is bad. This is treachery most foul!"
"Oh, gimme a break…" Kim grumbled, as he placed his hands on his hips, and rolled his one good eye.
"Suit rat!" Kargas' voice abruptly blared across the bridge, causing Leahr to jump startled in his seat, as the krogan marched up behind him. "Bring up a layout of the ship. Show me the ventilation system!"
"Hey, listen. I'll radio my guys and see if anyone's seen Davix or Tesh anywhere, alright?" The Commander informed, trying to assuage the situation, as he raised his hand to his radio. "But enough with this Gordon Freeman shit, already! This is ridiculous! You're all getting yourselves worked up over some two-hundred year old dead guy! There's no god damned Gordon Freeman on this ship!"
Suddenly, as Leahr worked on fulfilling the krogan's request at the forward terminal, a bright red indictor light began flashing on it.
"What's that?!" Kargas demanded, as he pointed at the crimson marker, labeled: FIRE ALERT. "What is that!?"
Leahr sighed. "It's a fire alarm…"
Several thick jets of vapor, like the breaths from numerous fire extinguishers, came spurting out from various nozzles embedded in the kitchen ceiling, filling the room with a thick, cloudy haze, as they finished smothering the last of the flames.
"Vision Impairment Detected." The heads-up display in Gordon's visor exhibited, as his visual mode readjusted itself. "Short-range sound navigation and ranging engaged."
Before his eyes, Gordon's outlook faded from a zero-visibility smoke screen, into a clearly perceptible, virtual world of dull grays, and brightly pulsating whites. It was almost as though he were looking at the world in the form of a black and white photograph negative. In addition to this, Gordon could almost make out a peculiar beeping sound emanating from his visor. It was barely audible, almost like the subtle, high-frequency buzz given off by twentieth-century televisions when they were left switched on, with no incoming signal. But it was definitely there.
Behind him, Cameron stood frozen in time, desperately trying to make sense of what just happened. She looked on, speechless and aghast, with her eyes split open and her mouth hanging agape in shock, awe, and confusion.
Without the slightest hint of surprise on his own face, Gordon simply turned back and stepped around her, leaving her there, as he headed down the aisle towards a large, metallic cabinet pushed flush against the front wall. When he reached the cabinet, he grunted as he pressed his shoulder against it and started to shove it out of the way. It was either heavier than it looked or, more likely than that, he was more spent than he'd ever let on. After a moderately taxing effort, the cabinet slid out of the way, revealing Teshya's submachine gun, which he had previously spied sliding underneath.
He bent down to pick up the gun, when he suddenly heard a creaky, gravelly, tormented moan.
"Unnnnnnggghhh…."
His eyes grew angry and keen once more, as he raised the weapon, and flicked the safety off. Gordon walked back to his previous place, where Cameron was still standing, and continued on past her. The thick fog lingering within the kitchen was already starting to abate, as he reached the end of the counter, finding an outstretched pair of charred legs. Turning the corner around the counter, Gordon aimed his submachine gun down, as he came upon the rest of Davix' body. When he did so, his anger and apprehension quickly melted into pity and clemency, as he slowly lowered the pointed weapon.
There, strewn across the kitchen floor, on his back, was the once mighty, bellicose Blood Pack Mercenary; now just a quivering, smoking mass of seared flesh. His armor was scorched and blackened, much like his face, which was charred, blistered, and oozing with blood. Any identifying markings once prevalent on his visage had been burned away, and any distinguishing features were no longer recognizable.
Cameron cautiously walked up, behind Gordon. "Oh my god…!" She exclaimed into her palms, as she covered her mouth with both hands, in horrified dismay, once she discovered the grisly sight for herself.
"Ughhh… Unhhhh…" The still living turian continued to moan and lament, in torturous agony, as he cracked opened his eyes, and looked up at the physicist standing over him. His tongue began smacking within his dry mouth, as he tried to speak.
"Ngh… Hurts… so much…" Davix uttered in a creaky, broken voice that was mired in pain and sorrow, as he struggled to force each individual word out. "Can't move… Hurts to breath…" He said, as his breathing rasped and hissed in his throat and chest.
"You uh… You must've inhaled the superheated air…" Gordon tentatively explained, as he bowed his head, and looked away, forlorn. "I'm no MD, but… from the sound of your breathing, I'd say it... scorched your lung tissue and burned up your alveoli…" He informed, as he looked back into the turian's red, teary eyes, with genuine sorrow reflected in his own. "You're suffocating… Slowly… And I can't help you. It isn't as though I can get you to a Doctor… I'm sorry… I warned you…"
"…Do it then." Davix urged, his voice fading further and further away, as he rested his head to the side, trying desperately to find a shred of comfort to ease his excruciated condition. "Don't… leave me to die like this… Finish it... Please…"
Gordon acceded with a slow, regretful nod. With his lips clenched tightly, he raised his weapon and took aim at the turian's head, preparing to put an end to his suffering. "It won't hurt long…" He remorsefully consoled.
"Wait…!" The turian pleaded, as he raised his head back up, and locked eyes with Gordon for a final time. "First… Who are you?"
Gordon lowered his weapon again, as he searched for the words to give the fallen warrior. "I… I'm just a scientist…" He declared.
"A scientist…?!" Davix reiterated in disbelief, with a pained laugh, in a low, coarse voice, as he rested his head back again. "Oh, this is funny… Ugh! ARGHH!" He abruptly twitched and cringed in agony, as a sudden, sharp twinge of pain coursed throughout his entire body. "Do it…! Quickly, please!"
Gordon raised his weapon, and wrapped his finger tightly around the trigger. "I'm sorry..."
Teshya took a long, slow, stroll around the towering mound of debris now accumulated at the very center of the once lush dining hall, admiring her work. It was a jumbled mountain of splintered wood, shattered glass, mangled silver, and left over delicacies. And near the top, a single porcelain-skinned hand rested lifeless and limp, as a lone gunshot suddenly rang out, from within the kitchen.
"Hmph…" Teshya released a scoffing laugh, as she stopped, and looked towards the kitchen doors. "Sounds like my partner's finally done dealing with the rest of the human vermin in this place." She proclaimed with a brash tone, as she turned and started towards the doors. "Later, worm…"
As she began to walk away, a soft-skinned finger behind her started to twitch. Gradually, the rest of the digits became animated, and began to curl and bend. Suddenly, they sprang to life, extending and fanning out, before retracting and clenching into a trembling fist. Teshya stopped and turned around, as a low rumbling began to emanate from the junk pile behind her. When she turned, she was surprised to see the tightly clenched fist, extending from under the mountain of wreckage, suddenly flare up with a blazing, shimmering, indigo flame. It began to tremble and quake more and more violently, just before regressing down into the accumulation of debris.
"Oh-ho, you want some more, do you bitch?!" Teshya chided, as a blue biotic glow washed over her entire body, and radiated from her eyes. "Well, come on! I wasn't through with you yet, anyway!"
The noise from within the agglomeration grew louder and louder, building from a subtle rumble to a blaring roar. Tables and chairs began to shake and slide off of the mound, and the floor itself seemed to tremor and quake under the asari's feet, as brilliant blue rays of light began to pierce out from the center of the rubbish pile, through the gaps and cracks.
"What the…?!" Teshya uttered to herself, as she looked around, stunned and baffled, at this frightening phenomenon, which possessed the makings of an imminent natural disaster.
At that very instant… Like the unheralded eruption of Vesuvius, every last layer of scrap and debris suddenly exploded from the center with incredible, unprecedented force; flying, scattering, and fragmenting throughout the massive dining hall, in all directions, like the shrapnel from a bomb.
"Hey, argh! Umph! Uagh! Ahhh!" Teshya grunted and wailed, as she was repeatedly pummeled by a brutal fusillade of wreckage. Before she could find cover from the volley, or protect herself from it, she looked up, and managed to catch only the briefest glimpse of the radiant figure, in a tattered red dress, standing in the center. All of a sudden, the glimmering blue being seemed to transform itself into a vessel of pure energy.
Utilizing an unparalleled biotic charge of her own, Miranda blazed straight out towards the asari, as a lightning fast streak of light. She thrust her right hand forward, as she plowed into the mercenary, like a wrecking ball. The sheer force and velocity of the blow should've sent Teshya flying and crashing to the ground. But long before the insolent asari could be hurled away, Miranda caught her - clasping her entire, blue-skinned forehead in a crushing, vice-like biotic grip.
"Argh! Let me go!" Teshya pleaded - her vision blinded by the edge of Miranda's palm, as she felt the human's talon-like fingers digging into her temples. She wrapped her hands around Miranda's wrist in a desperate and futile attempt at peeling her grip off, but it was no use. Suddenly, she felt the pressurized clamp around her forehead pull at her, and actually begin to lift her straight up, off the floor.
"Ahhh! ARGHH! OH GODDESS, LET ME GO!" She cried and begged for mercy, with a profound sense of terror and intimidation teeming in her voice. She felt as though her cranium could cave in at any moment, as her feet flailed and kicked wild, frantic, and helpless.
Miranda stood there; her shimmering hand latched around the asari's skull, like a claw crane, and her eyes glowing and burning with a biotic vengeance, as she watched the mercenary's thrashing grow increasingly feral and desperate. At that moment, a baleful, unforgiving sneer overtook the human's expression. Miranda grit her teeth. She raised the asari up even higher and suddenly thrust forward, bringing her blue head slamming down hard, to the floor, with ruthless, bone shattering force.
"Ackgh!" One last, chilling, death rattle emanated from Teshya's body, as it spasmed and convulsed. Her fringe had split apart on impact, and her skull cracked open, like a ripe honeydew melon being dropped onto a hard, concrete sidewalk. With the deed done, the glow from Miranda's body and hands quickly faded, as the asari's twitching lessened and went limp.
"Told you…" Miranda uttered, panting and gasping heavily for air. And with one final, wheezing, gasp, everything went dark. Her eyes rolled back into her forehead, and she suddenly collapsed down, directly besides Teshya's lifeless body, with her hand soaked in her lavender blood.
Gordon condensed the still smoking sub-machine gun back into its compacted form, as he looked down in a pensive, trance-like state at the dead turian lying peacefully, with a dark hole, welled over with blood, drilled into the center of his charred forehead.
"Does it always have to be like this…?" He whispered rhetorically to himself, in a low, somber voice.
"H… H-how did… What… What happened to him?!" Cameron finally managed to spit the question out, after a series of stunned sputters, as she stood looking back and forth between Gordon and the fallen mercenary. "Wh-why did he just burst into flames like that?!"
Gordon turned to McClane. "I just-" All of a sudden, he stopped dead midsentence, as a ghastly, pale look came over his expression. "Miranda!" He exclaimed, when he abruptly remembered, as he brushed his way past the reporter, and darted towards the exit.
Freeman threw open the one remaining swinging door, leading from the kitchen, and erupted into the dining room, with his weapon drawn. "Miranda!" He shouted out, with desperation and despair, as his eyes scanned the expansive, ransacked, and destroyed area.
The entire room looked as if a gale force hurricane had swept through it. Bits and pieces of tables and chairs were strewn across the floor. Shreds of tattered white satin table cloths, and ruby silk curtains littered the ground like confetti. And shards of glass crunched under his shoes, as he ran in, looking for some sign of the fair skinned brunette. A sign he suddenly spotted.
"Oh no…!" He gasped, when he noticed the felled operative laying at the center of the carnage, which surrounded her in an almost crater-like formation. She was sprawled out, on her back, motionless and recumbent, directly besides the mangled body of the second armored Blood Pack Mercenary.
"Oh, please no! Not again!" He shouted in his mind, feeling as though his heart had lodged itself into his throat, as he immediately sprinted over to her. He jumped and vaulted over obstacles, pleading that his fears would not prove true, as his darkest memories revived.
"Help… Gordon… Nggghhh…!"
"The Alyx Vance… But harm has come. Her condition is grave…"
"Her heart has stopped! She ebbs! If we lose her, we lose all!"
"Alyx!" He called out, as he slid to his knees at the operative's side, cradling her head, and raising her up. "Oh no! Oh please, no! Say something! Please!"
"Oh my god…!" Cameron's shaky voice suddenly cried out, from over his shoulder, as she looked down at the inanimate brunette. "Oh my god, is she-?!"
"No!" Gordon immediately imposed, cutting Cameron off before she could finish, as he watched Miranda's chest lightly contract in and out. "No, she's alive… She's breathing, but I need to find her some… I-I need to get her to a-!"
"Mmmmm…" The restful beauty let forth a groggy, creaky, groan, as her eyes very slowly started to split apart. When she looked up, she could see a blurry figure looming over her - a panicked, distraught figure that quickly came into focus.
"Hey, tough guy…" She greeted, in a dreary, drowsy tone, as she cracked a small smile.
"Hey…!" Gordon said, trying to steady his voice, and reciprocating a worried grin, as he looked down at her, and brushed the hair out of her eyes. "Are you… are you alright…?!"
"Mmm, I got a few new dents…" She declared, in a coarse, pained voice, as she slowly began to sit up, under her own power. "How 'bout you?" She asked, as she looked over Gordon's newly battered state.
"Heh." He couldn't help himself from exhaling a relieved chuckle. "Yeah, I got a couple new ones…"
"No, no, wait!" He abruptly exclaimed, as the resilient lady tried to push herself up, off the ground, before losing her equilibrium and collapsing back down. "Hold on, Miranda. Don't get up just yet. You should rest…"
"Gordon, we need to go…" The brunette declared in a voice that started to sound sturdy, and more herself, as she tried pushing herself up again. "We need to keep moving… With the fracas we stirred up down here, it'll be a miracle if the entire bloody ship doesn't come to investigate."
Gordon quickly took her hand, and helped her up, as she managed to rise to wobbly legs. Her loyal physicist then took her arm, and draped it around his neck and shoulders, to help steady her. But she stubbornly pulled it away.
"Gordon, I'm fine. Don't worry…" She assured, laying a hand on his chest, as her head continued to throb and spin a bit. "It's mostly just biotic enervation… Really…"
"You're sure…?"
"Yes..." She acknowledged, with warmth and tenderness in her eyes, trying to ease his fears, as a thought suddenly popped into her head. "But that reminds me..." She said, trailing off, as she turned to look down at the maimed asari body, at her feet.
"Mgh…" Gordon muttered wincingly, as he looked down. "Well, she's definitely seen better days."
"But she won't be seeing any more…" The brunette biotic affirmed, as she bent down, turned what remained of the asari's ruptured head to one side, and pushed the blue cartilage of her ear forward.
Concealed behind it was a tiny, crescent shaped chip, about the size of a twentieth century earth nickel. It was seated into a metallic socket, which was embedded into the asari's skull. With her free hand Miranda reached down, pinched the tiny chip, and plucked it out of its small, silvery socket.
Standing back up, she swung her hair out the way, and tilted her head to one side. She then pulled the cartilage of her own right ear forward, with one hand, and carefully inserted the chip into her vacant bio-amp socket, with the other. As soon as it was plugged in, a tiny, blue indicator light on the chip flared up.
"Ooooh, much better…!" Miranda declared in an upbeat, almost euphoric tone, as her stature propped up, and a shimmering blue wave of energy washed over her. "Ahh, it feels like a Polaris." She conjectured, as she torqued her neck around, and rotated her shoulders - feeling completely reinvigorated, as the shimmering blue glow around her faded. "The barriers aren't quite so strong, but the shockwaves pack one hell of a punch… And I should know."
"I suppose she won't be needing it." Gordon said modestly, as he looked back down at the expired asari. "Alright, well we should go, then…"
Miranda nodded, as Gordon drew his newly acquired sub-machine gun - keeping it handy, as the three turned and made for the atrium entrance of the dining hall.
"Uh… Uhm, excuse me. I'm sorry, but can I ask…?" McClane's uneasy voice chimed in, just then, as she followed along behind the two victorious combatants. "I'm still not 100% clear on exactly what happened to the other one…"
"The other one...?" Miranda reiterated, as she suddenly remembered the 2nd Blood Pack aggressor. "That's right. What happened with the turian?" She queried, as they walked.
"He exploded…!" Cameron poignantly put forth, just as Gordon cracked open his mouth, but before a single word could be uttered.
"He exploded?!" Miranda beckoned, with a narrow-eyed look of confusion.
Gordon simply answered by casually shrugging his shoulders and nodding.
"I-I don't understand what happened." Cameron continued, flummoxed. "One minute, he was about to shoot us both, and then the next he just… burst into flames! I mean, I'm not complaining… It was either him or us… But why?!"
"Because I sabotaged the gun…" Gordon stoically explained, as they continued on, navigating across the wreckage and debris of what was once one of the most elegant dining rooms in the galaxy.
"…You what?"
"I was no match for that turian…" He proceeded to explain, with a somewhat disconcerted sigh, as he glanced over at Miranda. "I couldn't touch him. And he'd managed to disarm every single thing I tried to use as a weapon. I knew he'd only do the same thing with the rifle, so… I sabotaged it. I obstructed the barrel with something called an… 'Estania Bean'?" He said, questioningly.
"Ew, I hate Estania Beans…!" Cameron accidentally confessed, before her reporters instincts kicked in again, as they neared the atrium entrance. "But, what about if he… didn't disarm you? The gun would've been useless to you, right…?"
"Well yeah, but then I figured maybe I could use it in a threatening manner to coerce his surrender." Gordon elaborated, with a sigh and a dismal shake of his head, before continuing. "Obviously that's not how things unfolded... I set the rifle's firing mode to incendiary, doused him in a flammable substance, and when he tried to shoot us…"
"Boom…" Miranda added, finishing his sentence for him. Gordon nodded in reply.
"You outsmarted him…" Cameron proclaimed, as she looked at the bruised, bloodied hero before her, with a gleam of admiration, and a little something more, in her eyes.
"It's how he wins…" Miranda proudly declared, as they reached the man-made pond in the center of the atrium, and walked around, towards the doors leading out.
"Hmph, sometimes..." Gordon said, with a subtle laugh, as they continued hobbling along, and started up the short, rounded flight of stairs.
Just then, a peculiar sound seemed to emanate from the outside. All of a sudden, the wooden doors at the top of the stairs flew open, and in marched a small squadron of between twelve to fifteen LOKI mechs, in twin single-file lines.
"HALT." A robotic, monotonous voice from the unit at the head of the group ordered, as Gordon swung his weapon out, and tightened his grip on the trigger. "ARMED CIVILIANS DETECTED. YOU ARE ORD-"
FWOOM! Before the battle scarred physicist could discharge a single shot, a tempestuous tidal wave of raw, unbridled biotic energy slammed against them, with the force of a tsunami, instantly and completely obliterating them, and blowing out a large portion of the dining hall entrance with them.
Gordon looked on, wide eyed and aghast at the incredible display of power, as Miranda grinned an odious grin - her fingers tingling and teeming with energy.
"What was that?!" "Sounded like it came from over here!" "This way!" "You men, with me!" "The six of you, circle round back!" A collage of various, distant voices could be heard coming from multiple directions, outside - voices that were soon accompanied by the stomping, trampling sound of a forthcoming horde.
"Well, it looks like they know we're here…" Miranda guardedly informed, as she listened to the noise and looked down at the sparking bits and pieces off the slender, mechanized soldiers. "Maybe a less conspicuous route would prove more accommodating…"
Author's Note: Well ladies and gentlemen, it's been a good seven months, but I have FINALLY posted an update to my story. As I've always said, I'm not done. Not by a long shot. I have so many ideas for this fanfic series, and I've really come to love the little shared universe that I've created. I've even got ideas for things BEYOND Salvation II, which is really going to be my swan song story. The ultimate culmination of all events and elements. But seeing as that is years and years away, with the way things have been going, we'll stick to Episode I for now, shall we.
Things are finally heading for the climactic final battle. Only About 2, maybe 3 more chapter clusters to go now, and I'll be done. Oh, and quick retraction here. My episodic stories leading up to Salvation II are no longer Short Stories. I thought they were gonna be short stories, but... I think I'm incapable of writing something like that lol. The villains in this particular story for instance were not going to have any sort of background, or motivating backstory, or anything of that nature. They were originally going to be generic greedy bad guys. And if you've been following along, you see how that's not exactly what I ended up doing. Anyway...
When I first started writing this multi-part fight scene at the end, I was actually REALLY pleased with the way it was turning out. And the reason for that is I decided to experiment a little with my writing style. This isn't the first time I've written 2 or more simultaneous fights occuring at the same time. But in the past, when I've written them, I've sort of written them in a linear fashion, as one large entity. With THESE chapters however, I thought that the fight might be more fluid and organic if I wrote them as two SEPERATE fights, and then just sort of spliced them together. I wrote Miranda's fight first, then I wrote Gordon's.
This, however, had the opposite effect. Rather than being fluid and organic, the pacing of the fights seemed to sort of drag on. And the action got sort of stale and repetative. I also had to shorten some parts for one fight, lengthen parts on others, adjust chronology so things match up better, etc. So I had to work to fix all this. I'm not 100% sure I was able to do it right. I tried, but these fights were not meant to go THIS long. But, I did my best. In the future I'll stick to writing simultaneous fight action as one entity as I've done in the past, rather than writing them seperately and trying to splice them together later.
I'm really hoping you guys will like it. Enjoy, and let me know what you think.