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 29: Enemy is Everywhere (Part II)

Shepard's Rave

"Check over there, by the tables…!" One of the human guards shouted out, as he roved around the large nightclub interior. "Keep your eyes open. They could be anywhere!"

As the numerous patrolmen fanned out in search of the unnamed stragglers, the already dim blue glow within the club began to fade into a pitch black darkness. As the light ebbed, there came a sound; Kssssst… A low hissing noise that arose within the club from several tiny jets around the floor, which rapidly began exuding a thick layer of fog.

"What the fuck?!" "Who's doing that?!" "What's going on?!" "Can anybody see anything?!" Several of the officers began shouting out in the darkness, in a disorientated panic, as they spun around, back and forth, flailing their weapons about like paranoid fanatics.

"Calm down, all of you!" One of them shouted out in a more collected, composed, and authoritative tone, as a brilliant beacon of white light, from his omni-tool, pierced the cloaking darkness. From his lead, several other rays of omni-lights abruptly appeared soon thereafter, whilst the thick blanket of accumulating fog continued to swallow up the floor.

"They're back stage…!" The stoic, authoritative officer calmly imparted, as his visage was made visible in waving beams of light, which through the dark like spotlights. He was a dark-skinned, statuesque human with a furrowed brow, a burly build, and a towering stature.

"Krel'ac!" He barked to a nearby salarian and human officer pair. "Go check it out! Take Chalmers with you!" The apparent superior ordered, motioning towards the back, with a pointed finger.

The salarian turned and looked to the nearby human - a scrawny, cow-hearted male, whose eyes opened wide upon reception of the perilous order.

Gulp… The sound of the two swallowing at something in their throats could almost be heard amidst the eerie hiss of the fog jets, as they turned and cautiously made for the backstage door.

The fog was heavy and thick now, as it canvassed the floor like a broad, gray blanket. Even the full intensity of the multiple omni-tool flashlights did very little to penetrate this laden, cloudy haze now, as the two subservient guards practically tip-toed their way towards the rear. Their heads swiveled rapidly, from side to side, as they held their drawn weapons out in front of them, clutched within trembling hands.

"RARGH!" POW! A sudden scream came, followed by a single firearm discharge, as the salarian was sucked down into the fog, like a swimmer being dragged under the waves, by a hungry ichthyosaur.

"W-Wh-What the fuck!?" The human officer yelled out, as he shuffled around, in place, searching for his vanished accomplice. "Krel'ac…? KREL'AC!? Where are you?!"

"What happened?!" The hearty voice of their human superior demanded, from the opposite side of the room, near the entrance.

"It's Krel'ac! He's gone!"

"What do you mean GONE?!"

"I-I-I… I don't know!" The human subordinate stuttered in panicked response. "One second he was here, and then-Whoa-wha!" He suddenly jumped, with a start, as he aimed his weapon frantically down at the floor. "Something grabbed my leg! Something just grabbed my leg man! There's someone else in here!"

"Chalmers, call the hell down! You're letting them get inside your he-"

"WHOAAA!"

Again, like the shrieking wail of a condemned soul being dragged down into the unforgiving depths of hell, a scream echoed throughout the room, followed by the muffled sound of something breaking, as Officer Chalmers was sucked down into the abysmal, murky fog.

"Holy shit!" "What the hell's going on!?" "We gotta get the fuck outta here!"

Suddenly… As the panicked voices of the anxious officers coalesced, the beat of music began to play... It started as a low, suppressed beat, that gradually began to crescendo.

A pair of tri-fingered hands systematically flew across a mixing board, keying in buttons, turning up dials, and shifting up sliders. One by one, a panel of switches was flicked on, as the vibrant, visual manifestation of the musical sound spectrum began dancing on-screen - painting its colorful reflection on an onlooking lavender faceplate. Outside, within the club itself, the low, muffled beat grew to a blaring, synthesized roar - A fast-paced, surging rhythm that thrilled the blood, moved the body, and deafened the ear.

All across the vast Mezzanine Deck, and even on decks above and below, throngs of mutinous guards, patrolling the grounds, tuned their ears, and turned their eyes up towards the ceiling, as the muffled sound of music thumping through the walls garnered their attention. Like the lustful call of a siren calling sailors to their demise, the subtle melody began to draw every officer in to the same destination: The Lumoria Lounge.

The guards in the room continued to look back and forth at each other, as more and more reinforcements came pouring in through the front doors, by the second. Amidst the blaring noise, they could be seen trying to shout at each other, but the music was just far too powerful…

Suddenly, a blinding white light began pulsating at a daunting rate - lighting the entire room up with a brilliant luminance for a split second, before immediately choking it back into pitch darkness. Rapidfire glimpses of one another was all they could catch, as the fluttering light strobed on and off. A turian guard swiveled his head around in a frenzy, at the heart of the dancefloor, as the dizzying light pulsated. One moment, in the light, he was alone. The next a tall, human figure appeared behind him. A flash of light later, and the turian was glimpsed, struggling to pry the human's thick arm off his neck. And with a blink, they were both gone…

In the midst of the dizzying maelstrom of lights and smoke, as the traitorous officers began disappearing one by one, a trio of slender, mechanical warriors systematically panned their gaze across the room.

[VISUAL INPUT CORRUPTED - SWITCHING TO INFRARED SENSORS] - a heads-up display within the LOKI's optic interfaces read, as the smoke and fluttering lights quickly gave way to a high contrast nocturne of dull gray surroundings, and bright white figures.

The Mechs' target tracking systems meticulously watched the array of humanoid silhouettes bumbling around. in a dazed frenzy, like corralled shee trying to evade a prowling wolf. All except for one. A lone, white figure they detected scuttled across the floor, in a prone position, to an unsuspecting victim. As he neared his target, he dove into a combat roll for a rapid gain of ground, before popping up directly behind his target, dragging him down to the ground, and twisting his head in a violent, jerking motion, leaving him limp and lifeless.

[IFF PROTOCOLS INITIATED]

At that moment, several of the white, humanoid blotches turned green within the LOKI's optic interface. All except for one. The one systematically eliminating his foes turned a bright shade of red…

"ALL AVAILABLE UNITS!" A turian guard shouted into his radio, with his hand pressed against his ear. "WE NEED IMMEDIATE BACK-UP IN THE LUMORIA ROOM ON THE MEZZANINE DECK! I SAID BACK-UP! WE NEED BACK UP!" He yelled repeatedly, desperately trying to carry his voice over the blaring music. "NO, ON THE MEZZANINE DECK, DAMN IT!"

Unbeknownst to him, the shadow of a man had been cast upon his back, with two hands reaching for his neck. Just then... RATATATATAT! A battery of automatic gunfire suddenly blazed out in their direction, igniting the dark room with tracer fire, and riddling the officer's body with holes; leaving him convulsing on his feet, as silvery blood gushed out of his chest. When the officer finally collapsed to the ground, one of the haphazard rounds sliced a burning gash across the left cheek of the man standing behind the guard, as he darted away for cover.

While the deluge of rounds continued, blazing a trail of bullet pocks along the floor, in the figure's wake, he sprinted towards a set of booths and tables situated around the outer edge of the dancefloor. He vaulted over one of the polished metal tables, sliding across the tabletop, to the other side, as rounds ricocheted off it's surface. Upon reaching the opposite end, he dove down, seeking sanctuary underneath it as he yanked the SMG out of his holster and prepared to return fire.

"Hmph…" Shepard pondered to himself, as he primed his weapon, with a new strategy brewing in his veteran mind. "Those things shot right through that guy to get at me… I wonder…"

"WHERE'D HE GO?!" "WHAT HAPPENED?!" "ANYONE SEE WHERE HE WENT?!" The befuddled, and fairly panicked voices continued to shout out, under the veil of smoke and darkness.

Meanwhile, The three assault mechs in the room stood motionless for a moment, analyzing the lifeless corpse of the friendly target that had just fallen, by their own mechanical hands.

[ALERT]
[IFF VIOLATION DETECTED: LEVEL 1 FRIENDLY TARGET ELIMINATED]
[TARGET ASSESSMENT: ACCEPTABLE CASUALTY - INCONSEQUENTIAL...]
[PROCEED WITH OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE ALL HOSTILE TARGETS BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY]

"COMMANDER KIM, SIR! THIS IS KALED! WE NEED IMMEDIATE BACKUP ON THE MEZZANINE DECK!" One of the salarian officers cried out, in desperation, into his radio, as the deafening music blared on around him. "NO, NOT THE-THE MEZZANINE DECK, SIR! MEZZ-A-NINE!"

As the salarian futilely tried to get his point across, through his radio, a shadowy figure popped up behind him, a short distance away, amidst a set of tables and chairs. Perhaps the salarian's only saving grace was that his end came quick and painless, as a single round found its mark, boring a hole directly into the base of his skull, with the exit-wound exploding out directly above his right cheek.

"THERE! THERE! HE'S OVER THERE!" A random officer called out and pointed, as Kaled's departed body collapsed to the floor. Every single Carmenta Illustria Security Official in the room turned their attention and weapons towards the tables. Before even spotting a discernible target, they unleashed hell, in a clumsy and frenzied panic. Table lamps, and knick-knack adornments exploded into tiny bits of shrapnel. The wall and tables were riddled with holes, and many of the various booths, and chairs were completely eviscerated, as an unrestrained, maniacal deluge of gunfire tore out. For nearly a minute, the hellacious assault on the furnishings continued unabated, before the broad-shouldered human leading the pack finally waved his hand in the air calling for a cease-fire.

"HOLD IT! HOLD IT! HOLD YOUR FIRE!" He demanded, flailing his hand over his head. "HOLD YOUR FIRE GOD DAMN IT!"

As the thunderous sound from their weapons slowly drew to a close, every last officer in the room stood holding their breaths, watching the demolished sitting area for some sign of life. But none came… If it wasn't for the blaring music drilling in their ears, they'd swear they could hear the sound of a pin drop.

"ONE OF YOU GO CHECK IT OUT!" The bulky human pack-leader ordered, as they all continued looking on. "NO WAY HE SURVIVED THAT!"

The head officer looked back at his steadfast troops, waiting for one of them to bravely volunteer. But each of them just stood in place, looking back and forth at one another - none showing the slightest inkling of wanting to go.

"WHAT ARE YOU COWARDS WAITING FOR?!" He barked, in a rage, with an angry shrug. "YOU KNOW HE'S DEAD! JUST GO MAKE SURE!"

"…"

"..."

"FINE…!" He irately conceded. "Bunch'a marys… I'LL GO!" He grumbled under his breath, before snarling in a rage.

With a puffed out chest, and a bolstered strut, he strolled over towards the table where the maverick straggler was last spotted, and took a cautious look around. As he moved closer to the table, he crouched down and took a look underneath it, spotting nothing except for the single, silvery pole extending up from the tables small, circular base. Not that it WOULD'VE be easy to see anything mired by the fog in the darkened room. Still, with the threat here dismissed, he slowly made his way towards the next table over. As he approached it, and prepared to look down, the edge of the table unexpectedly teetered - thrusted up like the rapidly elevating end of a see-saw, which belted him in the jaw, and sent him reeling back - stunned and hurting. Without warning, that same table was hoisted up, off the ground, and angled upright, on it's edge, like a giant shield, before charging forward, towards the punchdrunk officer like the cowcatcher on a locomotive.

The blunt tabletop careened straight into the treacherous officer, sending him flying off his feet. Again, a panicked flurry of gunfire rang out, as the multitude of guards reactively unloaded their collective payloads on the table. Most of the rounds ricocheted off of the tables silvery surface, leaving small, deep pocks. But as the perennial barrage continued, eventually the tables integrity began to weaken, giving way to several swiss-cheese like punctures. The table then seemed to drop to the ground, on it's edge, and slowly rolled to the side, like a giant coin. As it rolled away, the traitorous troops were taken aback to see neither person standing there behind it, nor corpse laying underneath it.

"WHAT HAPPENED?! WHERE IS HE?!" The sturdy human leader demanded, as he scampered back to his feet, wobbling in place. "WHERE'D HE GO, THAT COWARD?!"

He expelled a horrified gasp, when he heard the abrupt voice practically whisper in his ear. "Right behind you…"

He suddenly felt an arm, thicker than his own, wrap around his neck, as his gun was painfully wrenched out of his grip. Before he even knew what was happening, he felt himself being forcibly held up, as he watched the trio of mechs on the opposite end of the room raise their weapons, and take aim directly at him.

"NO!" A hoarse scream managed to escape his lips, just before a fusillade of thermal rounds drilled into his body and face, leaving him gushing on his feet, like a crimson fountain.

With his felled victim still in his arms, John raised his own weapon, and returned fire, striking one of the mechs dead center of it's face - causing its head to explode into a shower sparks and debris, before it plopped to the floor like a knocked over toolchest. With the overzealous officer no longer of any use to him, Shepard allowed him to drop to the floor, lifeless and unrecognizable, before diving to the ground, and disappearing amidst the shroud of mist once more.

"WHO THE HELL IS THIS GUY?!" A panic-stricken salarian officer cried out, as he spun about, waving a trembling gun around the room. It was at that moment, that he was overcome with the strangest feeling - the kind of feeling one gets when they have eyes on their back. He then looked up, and to his dire chagrin, noticed the two remaining mechs, with their weapons aimed directly at his skull.

"STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

No sooner had he spit the words out, than RTATATATATAT! - a barrage of molten steel tore through his body, like BBs through an aluminum can. As fog poured out, onto the floor, and lights and sound overloaded the senses to the brink of disarray, a lone salarian body spasmed in agony - bathed in the flashing light of muzzle fire.

Again, the IFF violation was of no-consequence to the mechanized soldiers, as John Shepard dove to the ground - concurrent with the collapse of his salarian absorber. Using the mist and the already accumulating bodies of officers as cover, he continued to navigated across the fog-shrouded dance floor.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He heard an anxious voice yell out. A voice which he zeroed in on for his next target. "THOSE THINGS JUST KILLED TAL'VYK!"

Throughout the tempest of bedlam and confusion - more and more Illustria Security Officers, as well as handfuls of LOKI mechs continued to pour in the front door. Each one that entered soon found themselves alarmed and aghast, as they actually began to stumble over the fallen corpses of their maligned brothers in arms.

They watched, in horror, as a shadowy figure rose out of the mist behind one of their fellow officers, like the grim spectre of death itself, only to be spotted by the mech's targeting systems. Indifferent to friend or foe, they'd detect their target and open fire - shooting through anyone or anything in their path to try and hit their mark - though failing to do so every time. Again, and again the scenario played out. A dark silhouette grows behind an unsuspecting victim, which leads to their abrupt execution at the hands of the inept machines.

"WHAT THE FUCK'S GOING ON!?" Another terror-mired voice cried out. "THESE THINGS ARE TAKING US OUT!"

"SHOOT THE DAMN THINGS!"

With that, Shepard's mind game beared its fruit, as the Carmenta Illustria's Security Force turned their own weapons on their 'allied' LOKI Mech Units. The pulsing light from more than a dozen firearms lit up the entire room like New Years Night, at the stroke of twelve, as the slender, silvery men were gunned down. Showers of sparks, and bits and pieces of shrapnel and debris erupted across the room, as one by one, the mechs began to collapse to the floor - nothing but smoking, smouldering pieces of scrap metal. Commander Shepard rushed away from the crossfire - seeking sanctuary in a hidden back corner, near the backstage entrance. There hunkered down and took a moment to catch his breath, as he chuckled snidely a bit, to himself.

A large cluster of uniformed officers hurried down a rear employee access hallway, towards the Lumoria Room's back door. Even through the sealed metal door, the loud, blaring sound of music was not hard to track down. True, it may have been a little muffled through the walls, but with the Lumoria Room being the only source of music on this entire deck, it was exceedingly simple to pinpoint.

Leading the pack of guards, numbering about twelve or so, was a rugged looking, dark-skinned turian, with pale green markings under his eyes, and spanning down the bridge of his nose. The troop's full-on sprint slowed to a jog, and eventually came to a stop altogether, as they reached the source of the music.

"Alright, this is the place." The turian at the fore declared, as he approached the Lumoria's locked rear door. "While those other guys pile in the front and get themselves killed, we'll sneak in through here, and get the drop on these assholes." He began to elaborate, with an arrogant air, and a cocksure grin about him. "You guys ready?"

"Sure, but… It's locked." A dubious salarian spoke up from the small crowd, as he pointed a thumb at the bright-red holopanel on the door.

"So we unlock it, genius!" The turian doyen dictated, annoyed, as he materialized his omni-tool on his unarmed hand. "We're Illustria Security. Master access, remember?!" He retorted, snickering, and rolling his eyes condescendingly.

"Oh, right…"

"Now… What is it you humans say?" He began again, glancing at a few of his human cohorts in the small congregation, as he raised his weapon and primed it for combat. "Rock and Roll!"

He turned and pressed the holographic omni-tool ring surrounding his hand, to the bright red holopanel on the door, when suddenly... KZzZzZzZT!

The very INSTANT contact was made, a powerful jolt was sent surging through the turian's body. His eyelids split wide open - etching a look of intolerable agony on his twitching face. He clenched his teeth to the point of shattering them, as saliva began to foam and spew from his mouth. His every artery bulged, and his every muscle tightened, as the sound of a steady electrical buzz could be heard. The other officers watched in shock and awe, as the turian clung to the door, spasming and convulsing, with smoke actually beginning to seep out from under his uniform. Suddenly, with an eruption of sparks, the sizzling turian was sent flying across the hall - slamming back-first, against the opposite wall, before sliding down, a lifeless pile of smouldering, smoking flesh.

"Oh my god!" A female human guard shrieked, as she rushed over to the turian, sitting limp on the floor, with his head drooped over his chest. She crouched down before him, and immediately pressed her index and middle finger to the side of his neck, to check for a pulse.

"Ah…!" She cried out, as she immediately retracted her hand after burning her fingers on his hot flesh. It was like touching a piece of flambeed steak…

"Oh god…" She uttered, after a brief silence, as she gulped and shook her singed fingers. "He's… He's dead…! He's dead!"

The troop of blackguards seemed to exhale a collective gasp, after having witnessed the electrifying execution of one of their own; seemingly without the slightest bit of effort on the part of the renegade stragglers.

"Oh, to hell with this..." The dubious salarian was the first to remark. "To hell with this! I ain't going in there!" He proclaimed again, as he turned around, and began forcing his way through the group, before darting off down the hall, with his tail between his legs.

The remaining guards seemed to stop and share a brief, uneasy glance - looking to each other for answers. But the only things they found in each other's eyes were more questions, and a foreboding impression of dread. At that moment, they followed suit in the salarian's footsteps, turned tail, and ran…

"Did you hear something?" Matty beckoned, worriedly – turning towards the back door as he stood beside Tali. His little hands gripped at the edge of the control console, while she worked it feverishly – watching the fruits of her actions culminate on screen. Matty, on the other hand, was barely tall enough to glimpse the controls, over the edge of the console.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry, kresha." She reassured, as her hands masterfully glided, and danced around the mixing console with the guise of someone who's been working one of these machines for years. "No one's going to be getting through that door."

"What are you doing? Can I help?" The small boy then asked, as he rose up to the balls of his feet, and the tips of his toes, trying to look over the console, and the screen above it.

"Uh, no little one… No, you probably shouldn't see what John's doing out there." She replied, hesitantly, as she watched another officer on the screen get dragged under the densely settled fog, like a stray swimmer in great white waters.

"What's he doing?"

"Like he said—" She began, as she flicked a switch, causing an array of rainbow colored laser beams to suddenly light up, and dance around the club. "—he's teaching the bad policemen a lesson... Ooh, I can actually control these!" She exclaimed enthusiastically, as she took hold of a small, holographic wheel, which worked like a joystick that operated the colorful rays of laser light.

Officers continually rushed into the boisterous room of pulsing lights and pounding beats – weapons drawn, eyes peeled, and sweat and chills running down the back of their necks. As they bolted in, they watched in astonishment as their numbers were thinned out, one by one, by some unseen phantom.

"HEY DON'T TRUST THOSE THINGS!" A panicked, drell officer yelled out, as he watched an asari comrade walk in, with a pair of LOKI mechs by her side. "SHOOT 'EM! QUICK! THEY'LL TURN ON YOU!" He shouted over the music, as he raised his weapon at the thin, metal men.

Giving no thought to logic or reason, the asari officer that had walked in turned to the two mechs, and rapidly backed away, with her gun raised. When she was clear of them, both her and the drell opened fire and senselessly decommissioned the two mechanical combatants.

"WHAT'S GOING ON IN HERE!?" She shouted out, as she turned to the drell.

"THEY'RE IN HERE SOMEWHERE!" The drell answered. "THE STRAGGLERS! THEY'RE HIDING OUT, TAKING US OUT! THEY TURNED THE MECHS ON US SOMEHOW!"

"HOW MANY?!"

"I DON'T KNOW! AT LEAST TEN OR TWENTY! WE CAN'T TELL!"

Suddenly, a blinding beam of red laser light sliced across the dance floor, and made its way directly into the drell's eyes, whilst a separate green laser simultaneously flew into the asari's, as if both their eyes had targets painted on them.

"ARGH!" "MY EYES!" They shouted in unison, as they were blinded by the intense beams. As they stumbled about, distracted, they never noticed Shepard's shadowy outline emerging from the murky haze.

POW! POW! The muzzle flash from his gun painted his scarred and chiseled face in a bright, orange glow for a split second, as his shots found their mark, dismissing the two maligned guards, before he once more disappeared into the darkness.

Lights of red, green, and blue – orange, yellow, and cyan suddenly began to spread across the room with the vicious intent of blinding their victims, as if they had a mind of their own. The guards in the room would see a beam of light slice its way to them, before being daunted by the intense light. As they regained their speckled vision, they could only catch glimpses of their fellow compatriots being taken out one by one by what must've been an army of covert assailants.

A turian rubbed his eyes, in a daze, as he raised his weapon, and began firing wildly at anything that moved. "THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!" He shouted out, in a crazed, demented rant, as he shot at every shadow, every figure – every silhouette skulking in the darkness, friend or foe, that dared to move "Enemy is everywhere...!" He whispered to himself, huffing and heaving in a panicked state of madness. "ENEMY IS EVERYWHERE!"

All he could see, as his eyes struggled to readjust, was a vast room, covered in a laden blanket of gray fog, with several shadowy, armed silhouettes standing, and subsequently falling under a blast from his gun. Many waved their hands at him, pleading for mercy, and begging for him to stop. But there'd be no mercy here today. He was no fool, and he would not fall victim to these ghostly assassins and their trickery. It wasn't clear how many of his own cohorts he was responsible for killing, but surely no less than five fell by his own hand, and not Shepard's.

Suddenly, a large, theatrical screen at the front of the club, just above the stage, lit up with pre-recorded images of sultry, scintillating asari, human, and turian women, dancing in alluring outfits, in synchronous rhythm to the beat of the music. As the enticing ladies danced vigorously for an absent crowd, a darkened silhouette suddenly bolted across, in front of the screen, from one side of the stage to the other.

"I SEE YOU, YOU BASTARD!" The crazed turian shouted out, as he raised his weapon, and pulled back on the trigger repeatedly.

POW! POW! POW! POW! The shots passed straight through the illusive imagery on the holographic screen, leaving the wall behind it riddled with bullet pocks.

In the midst of the bedlam, the confusion, and the sheer lunacy that had gripped the Illustria Security team, the few officers left standing in the room quickly acknowledged defeat to what was surely a ghostly legion of trained assassins, and one by one, fled the room.

It wasn't long before the room was empty again, save for the mangled bodies strewn across the floor, and a lone, deranged turian, left behind in the mouth of madness, at the center of the abandoned club.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

His empty weapon failed to bear fire, as he waved it about in all directions, repeatedly pulling back on the trigger. He quivered, and shook, in a horror-stricken frenzy - his empty eyes staring blankly into space, and his face perpetuated in fear. As the music blared on, he watched as a ghastly gargoyle rose up out of the mist, before him, like a demon spawn rising from the foggy depths of hell itself. It stood twelve feet tall, if it stood an inch. An awful, and terrifying creature; eyes aglow with crimson red, claws glistening like daggers, razor fangs dripping with venom, and its breath aflame with demonic fire. The beast fanned its dreaded wings out, before the lonely turian guard - encroaching upon him like an angel of darkness.

"No…! Please…!" He begged, trembling, with tears in his eyes, as he held his depleted gun shaking out in front of him. The monster continued on towards him - no fear, no mercy - until the barrel of the officer's gun was buried deep into the monster's stone-hard chest. The creature reached up, and wrapped his hand around the barrel of the officer's weapon, before slowly pulling it out of his grip.

"Please! Please! No! No! No!" He sobbed, as he cradled his face into his palms, and began rocking back and forth before Shepard - a quivering, blubbering, broken mass.

The Commander turned towards the front of nightclub, and made two quick slicing motions across his throat - a gesture that the quarian looking on backstage quickly interpreted.

"...It's alright." He mercifully bestowed to the traumatized officer - beginning to dismantle his sidearm, piece by piece, as the deafening music suddenly cut off, leaving both their ears ringing. "It's over now..."

The turian slowly pulled his hands down, off of his eyes, over his mouth, and almost immediately, his terror of the grave began to abate. He was surprised to see that the figure before him was not some sort of infernal, demonic being from the nether reaches of the underworld, but merely a man - a lone man with steel in his spine, and a benevolence in his eyes.

"Y-Yo-You're not gonna kill me?!" He beseeched, with his trembling hands curled up, out in front of him, like a fearful child.

"I will if I have to." John affirmed, without qualm, as he pointed a rigid finger in the turian's face. "So listen real, real good… I have a message for whoever's pulling your strings, as I'm sure they're aware of what's happened here. I want the hostages freed. And I want ALL of you to surrender yourselves…" He sternly explained, as he stared a cold gaze through the turian, while brashly waving his finger in his face. "That doesn't happen, and I promise you... I PROMISE you, you'll all end up like those who died - needlessly - in this room tonight. Even if I have to kill the lot of you, one by one. Do you understand?"

The turian guard just stood their for a moment, his pupils batting back and forth; seemingly trying to process all that had happened, and the things that the man before him was saying.

"Damn it, I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Shepard fiercely berated, as he grabbed two fistfuls of the turian's shirt, and yanked him up to his face.

"...Y-Yes! Yes!" The turian finally acknowledged - nodding emphatically, and putting his hands up, in a surrendering fashion. "You got it! Commander Kim's the one in charge! I'll radio him right now! And-and-and I surrender! I give up! Please, just don't ki-AUGH!"

POW! POW! POW!

The thundercrack of three rapid gunshots quickly silenced the succumbing turian. His body suddenly went limp in Shepard's hands. His lax head drooped back, flaccid and limp, and a small trickle of silvery blood overflowed from his mouth, and ran down his chin.

As he let the officer down, Shepard looked up to catch a glimpse of four oncoming LOKI mechs, which he never noticed entering the room.

POW! POW! POW! POW! The shots rang out again - aimed for the infrared blotch of John's figure, in their targeting sensors. Finding himself in the precarious position of standing at the center of the dancefloor, with nothing suitable to provide him sanctuary nearby - the intrepid Commander dropped the turian's lifeless body, and made a break towards the right-hand side of the room, and the bar counter nestled against it.

The LOKI's glowing red, figure 8 optic sensors tracked Shepard's blistering movement across the dancefloor, as their brandished weapons continued to discharge. POW! POW! POW! POW!

As fast and nimble as Commander Shepard was - he was still not fast enough to avoid the calculated onslaught of slugs. He knew, only too well, the feeling of molten steel piercing his flesh, as a round found its mark, and drilled straight into the side of his broad, right upper-arm - rending his sinewy flesh like tissue paper. Instantly, the bullet exploded out of the inside of his arm, leaving a large exit wound, and splattering his face with his own blood. But even this wasn't enough to slow him down however, as he gritted his teeth in pain, and pressed forward, towards the nearby bar, which, in spite of being only a few feet away, seemed tantalizingly out of reach. Just before he could reach it, he felt the unforgiving, excruciating bite of a second bullet. His legs buckled, like toothpicks under his weight, as a round pierced the thick, muscular calf of his left leg.

"ARGH!" He cried out, in agony, as he toppled to the ground, bleeding and wounded. With his eyes clenched shut, his teeth grit to their breaking point, and his forehead dripping with sweat, he rolled onto his stomach, and fervently began dragging himself across the floor. While the bullets continued to ricochet off the floor around him - many coming dangerously close to his head - Shepard gallantly clawed his way around the barroom counter, painting the floor with a crimson streak of his own blood, like a road striping truck etching lines on a highway.

"Oh Keelah, no! John!" Tali exclaimed, under her breath, as she watched the mechanized soldiers unleash a torrent of gunfire towards the bar. She had watched Shepard drag himself around the counter, to find cover. But from the camera's vantage point angle, she could no longer glimpse any sign of him - living or dead...