David
They watched the footage together, utterly silent. On the opposite side of the planet, visible even from space, about half a dozen bright orange mushroom clouds blossomed from Korhal's surface. All of those people … gone. Mengsk freely turns nukes loose on others even after losing so much to them.
Part of David knew that wasn't entirely fair, of course. Korhal's wastelands were no stranger to splitting atoms, and there really was no further damage Mengsk could do to his home planet. At that instance, he was simply searching for reasons to be angry rather than … sad. Shocked. Despairing. The image flickered as another smaller explosion bloomed, likely spelling the end for some badly panicked platoon of marines who had been missed by the original wave of death. David's hands shook beneath his suit.
"Cut the footage, Lieutenant."
Cortez complied quickly, leaving David and his team to lie back against their seats. Leng cracked his knuckles, an impressive feat given that he was wearing power armor.
"They will suffer for that," he said mildly, his gun gleaming as it lay across his lap. "Captain Anderson, do our orders still stand?"
"No execution of civilians and watch your fire," snapped David, reminded all too quickly of who would be "replacing" Shepard for this operation. "We have to occupy this planet once this is done, and that can't happen if we've been killing innocents for absolutely no reason."
Captain Leng spread his arms wide. "We're lying in wait aboard a commandeered aid vessel, Captain. A line already crossed. What's a few more, in retaliation for such … barbarity?"
"The orders stand." David leaned forward, looking into Leng's smug face. "I am in command of this operation. Disobey my orders and answer to the Vice Admiral." That wiped the grin off his face quick enough. David leaned back, elbow glancing against a crate filled with antibiotics in the process. He looked to it with a furrowed brow.
He does have a point, however. The people who meet us will open the ship expecting scared cargo haulers. Instead, they will receive a bullet to the face. David shifted uncomfortably. But … they did nuke us. Over and over. So some foul play on both sides should be allowed and expected. But I'll be damned if I let Kai Leng run amok inside the UNN Main Station.
"Approximately five minutes to arrival," reported Cortez from the cockpit, nerves as steady as ever, even as the orbit around them was ripped asunder by the constant exchange of weapons fire. "Captain – they're already buzzing me and threatening to shoot. I don't think they will, but expect them the minute you step out the doors."
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant." David sighed and closed his visor while the rest of his team did likewise. His feet thrummed against the floor of the craft while he twitched his eyebrows, searching his interface for one of the few things that would help steady his nerves at this juncture. Finally, he found it.
Kahlee. A photo he had taken in Brazil, celebrating the reopening of the borders and the creation of the United Earth Directorate. Having spent most of their time on shore leave in the United Kingdom, the warm shores of the Copacabana Beach seemed a welcome change. Upon arriving, however, it became clear that a few million other people had a similar idea. As a result, Kahlee occupied the picture alongside parts of about four other people … yet still, it seemed to David, she stood out.
Perhaps it was the blonde hair, so rare in this day and age, or perhaps it was the striking Union Jack bikini that David had bought for her as a joke in Ipswich, or perhaps it was the simple nostalgia that set in once the two of them parted once more for their own stations … but Kahlee Sanders always seemed to glow in that picture. He knew for a fact that she hated it, always citing a different reason when he asked why (the most consistent was that she hated her hair short) but she had never asked him to delete it, for which he was duly thankful. As a gentleman … I would have to do it. The ship bumped slightly, making the image shake. I'll be okay. We'll be okay. At the very least, you aren't here for this. You're safe on Earth. David twitched his eyebrows again, and the image faded.
"I hate seeing planets burning." Duran's words made the entire ground team look at him. His eyes were downcast, staring at the floor, his elbows resting on his knees while his hands remained intertwined. "What a waste, to do such things to one another while such horrors lurk in the galaxy."
"Pretty sure Mengsk qualifies as a horror at this stage," replied Alenko, staring at his new replacement fingers and flexing them. "Do you disagree?"
"No." Duran stared at the cockpit, where the image of Korhal had previously been transposed. "Once this is over however … the Directorate must ally with everyone they can, against the coming darkness. I am sure Tosh will agree, once we land. These attacks on the Citadel … we must become a united front once more, before the Reapers can break us apart."
"Where'd this come from?" asked David, curious. "Lieutenant?" The ship bounced again, and David realized this was not the time. Duran only stared back at him, teeth bared. He looked poised to say something, but stopped, simply slumping his head between his elbows once more before shifting, pulling his rifle by the barrel into his lap. David shook his own head. "Thirty seconds. At the doors, people."
The stacked up on either side of the doors, David taking cover behind a large crate of what he believed were vaccination supplies, feeling terrible about doing so. Across from him, Ashley Williams stared back, flashing him a thumbs up with one hand while her rifle lay across another crate of medical supplies. Kai Leng and Duran stood at the front, their guns trained on the doors. Kaidan and Jenkins took up the back, their sights wobbling with every shake of the shuttle.
"UNN roof!" called back Cortez, a faint tremor now in his voice. "They are very unhappy with this landing choice. Sizeable ground presence. Open fire the minute those doors open and fucking pray that the Phantom guys Cerberus promised are both here and as good as they say."
"They are, Captain," said Duran, looking over his shoulder at David. "This will be mopped up quickly. Remain steady."
"Easy on the triggers, people," called out David as, far too soon for his taste, the shuttle's engines grew quieter and he felt his stomach drop. "We've got a long day ahead of us, and we might not be getting an ammunition resupply for some time. Try to avoid hitting our cargo as well, I have no doubt we'll find a use for it once this is done." Humanity knows that diseases will ravage this city once it has been thoroughly wrecked. Anything we can do to ease the suffering afterwards…
The ship landed, and David bit his lip. As the engines died, angry voices could be made out from beyond the doors.
"Opening in 3 … 2 … 1…"
"…an illegal landing! What the fuck do you people think you're-" The Dominion Officer on the other side, a woman in dress uniform, hand on the butt of her pistol, red-faced and furious, could only gape in the small moment of peace as the door opened and David's squad tensed. Then they squeezed their triggers.
The woman flew apart under the onslaught of ballistics, her dark red uniform doing nothing to obscure the brutal horror of what a mostly unarmored individual subject to gauss rounds looked like. The marines beyond her fell to the ground under the initial barrage, screaming as the rounds severed their legs and ripped through their torso before Duran silenced each of them with a rifle round. He advanced alongside Kai Leng, each clearing a side of the craft before advancing. David heard further rifle cracks coming from further away and advanced, blinking, underneath the blood red Korhal sky.
However hellish Korhal looked from orbit, it paled compared to the ground perspective. Ash rained from the heavens, air raid sirens sounded in every direction, and the sky had filled with a mixture of blackened clouds and a sky the color of a person's insides. The enormous buildings looked less like places of shelter and more like grim obelisks dedicated to the destruction, standing stark and black against the horizon, looking for all the world like they had already been depopulated and burned.
David did not have time to dwell on it, however. He crept alongside the left side of the craft with his gun still braced against his shoulder, following Duran's lead. The last of his team followed behind him. Coast looks clear.
No sooner had he thought that and turned to the rooftop entrance, it burst open. David yelled and rounded the edge of the craft, hiding behind as much of it as he could while he took aim. Someone yelled from beyond the door, and then something went clink against the roof. With a sudden pop, smoke filled the roof.
"Anyone have a lock?" called out David. Only Duran responded in the affirmative. We don't have time for this. As if on cue, someone fired into the smoke, wasting precious ammunition.
"Cease fire!" called out David, looking to his left or right for the idiot, only to become aware of someone standing behind him. A heavy hand rested on his shoulder, making David jump to his feet and round on the person behind him.
"Five headshots, brother," said the towering man before him, smoke curling lazily from his upward pointed rifle barrel. He wore a suit similar to Duran's, only black and gold, and slightly more thickly armored by the look of it. In addition, where Duran's hair was shaven and typically covered by the Confederate beret, Tosh's dreadlocks tumbled down his shoulders, making him resemble a lion. "Apologies for the scare. Gabriel Tosh … delighted to finally bring it all crashing down. Now, we need to get the word out before the word gets out, do you understand?"
David opened his mouth to retort before realizing that he did understand. So … a Phantom?
The Phantom nodded. "Tosh, brother. But no time for introductions." He jerked the butt of his rifle. Half a dozen ghosts materialized around the landing pad, each in a kneeling firing position, facing the now fading smoke. "You're the muscle, and you've got the data. We're the precision. We take you to where you need to go." He rushed forward, apparently done with the conversation, and the other Phantoms advanced with him. David followed, slightly baffled and wanting to question the Phantom further, but aware that this was not the time. I wish we could have at least spoken at the briefing … but you were deep within the city by that point, weren't you?
"I like these colonials," whispered Leng as they followed. "About time we see what human psionics can really do." Wait until you see our rescue team.
The rooftop exit led to a staircase. The Phantoms stopped at the top before vaulting neatly over the bannister, briefly making David wonder if they had idly committed suicide. Then shots echoed from several different floors.
"Clear." The call echoed from several of the landings, and David descended, by the numbers even as their escort cleared the way with unnerving efficiency.
"Is this something you are capable of doing, Lieutenant?" David looked back at the ghost, who was no doubt smiling at him through the mask.
"Terrazine is a perilous substance, Captain," was his only reply. So David took it as a no.
"Fourth floor, brother," called back Tosh, sounding as if he had just taken out the washing, rather than conducting swift murder. "No civilian casualties, I was told."
"Take out only military targets." Other Phantoms jogged up the steps, their expressions hidden behind their masks. They stacked up on the door, and David let them take the lead.
"Cloaking, brother. We will provide fire support all the way through. You cannot miss it." Tosh's grin was the last thing to fade, and the metal door slammed open as if of its own accord. Shouts went up shortly afterward, and the carpet and concrete surrounding the door threshold exploded as projectiles shattered against it.
David, wishing Shepard were here, stacked up against the edge and produced a 9-banger. Nodding to Williams and Jenkins, he hooked it around the door with as much force as he could muster, and then turned away with eyes closed. Light still flashed brightly through the lids.
Williams and Jenkins were first through, while Duran had joined in on the disappearing act.
"Six on the left!" The reports of the marines' rifles sounded sharp and clear in the enclosed space, each crack echoing through the halls. Monitors shattered and people screamed as David's team advanced through the roiling mass of blinded and deafened people, trying desperately not to step on anyone and to contain his fire to the red twitching forms of Dominion security staff.
Mengsk's voice rebounded through the chaos, audible even through the thunder of their rifles and the panicked cries of his people. David headed towards the noise, mouthing a word of thanks as the corpse of a Dominion ghost tumbled from the balcony above them, landing on and breaking someone's desk.
Beyond the cubicles, monitors, and dazed employees, a massive monitor featuring Mengsk lay embedded in the wall. The man was speaking with some passion, the screen occasionally demonstrating his emphatic hand gestures, and the bold inflation of his words could still be discerned through the terrible noise of battle.
Above them from the balcony, the bodies continued to rain down, and it became rapidly evident that the Phantoms were far more of a threat to the Dominion at this point than David's team. What was particularly unnerving was the absence of sustained gunfire from above; there would be a crack or a pop here and there, and then another body would be dumped or fall from above, usually with a gurgle instead of a scream or a cry. Slowly, David's team advanced underneath Mengsk's face and into the darkness of the newsroom beyond.
As they rounded the corner on to the set, someone threw a computer at David. It bounced harmlessly off his armor and fell with an unpleasant clatter to the floor, spilling its electronic guts. A mustached man in a burgundy coat stared wildly at them, defiant even in the face of obvious impotence. David backhanded him with as little force as he could muster and sent him crashing to the floor. A woman screamed and ran to his side while David motioned for the rest of his team to fall in. He produced the drive from his belt and walked to the series of monitors that currently also displayed Mengsk's face.
"We must stand fast in this furious struggle," he proclaimed boldly, making David pause to glare at the man. "The Directorate will not stop until every culture on every Dominion world has been shattered, absorbed into their homogenous vision of what humanity should be."
At least we do not kill planets. David pressed the drive into the computers to the right of the monitors. Alright EDI. Work this. Redeem yourself.
The monitors frizzled and died for a moment. The Phantoms rematerialized, many of them now spattered with blood. Tosh flashed a wolf's grin at David as EDI finished preparing the footage.
"Overriding local security and all other broadcasts." EDI's voice sounded reassuring to David for the first time. He heaved a heavy breath and walked over to the two newscasters, checking to make sure he had not killed the burgundy one. He sat up at David's approach, scooting back in the process. Good. You'll be conscious for this. "Accessing all available networks and assessing coverage … roughly 85% of Citadel space, 40% of known independent space, and all of the Koprulu Sector will receive this transmission. Stand by."
"We did it," breathed Kaidan from David's side, his weapon lowered. He stared in awe at the monitors. "We actually did it." The monitors crackled into life while Tosh stood at David's side.
Slightly grainy footage now played from the monitor, a time and date stamped into the corner, the seconds ticking up. Appears to be playing from the helmet of a marine.
"Transmission still good?" A woman's voice played from the video. Her gun was barely visible as she moved forward, a barrel moving backwards and forwards as she traversed the bright green foliage of Tarsonis. "Alright, good. Tracking the craft, let me know if you get any more intel."
Another pair of marines moved in front of her, shifting from tree to tree. Birdsong played through the monitors, and the sounds of a roaring engine could be heard in the distance.
"In our sights." The marine's view zoomed in through the tree line to a small clearing. Unfamiliar figures moved about it, crying out to one another in a language that was not English. Oh … those are turians. Wait … did the Council not only cover up these actions but … did their people actually conduct the physical messy business as well?
"It's the bird things," whispered the woman. "Looks like they snuck one shuttle through. They're handling … some kind of device. Orders?" The marine zoomed in on the device, a small obelisk about five feet tall, with rotating folded metal fans atop it.
The voice of her mission control, previously faded and hard to hear, suddenly became quite loud.
"Advance and destroy the device, repeat, destroy the device! All units be advised, Sons of Korhal are bringing psi emitters to bear. All SOK ground operations are to be intercepted and terminated with extreme prejudice. All available air forces proceed to following coordinates."
The woman shifted her barrel, kneeling and bracing it against a fallen log. David braced for the sound of gunfire, but it came from behind. The woman turned, the motion blur making David feel queasy, just in time for something blue to slam into her. She staggered, the camera reeling, and sharp bursts broke the birdsong. A much louder gun fired three times in quick succession.
The woman grunted and rolled, and suddenly blood could be seen on the ground. She looked down, clutching at her chest, which now burned with strange energy. Biotics. She reached for her weapon which had slipped out of her grasp, only for her armored wrist to be stepped on by a heavy alien foot. She looked up just in time to see the barrel of the turian's shotgun, and then the lens cracked. The camera slumped backward and turned, facing the direction of the psi emitter. The turian, no markings on his face, crouched over her body, looked to either side of him, and then activated his omnitool. After a few moments of tapping he rose, and returned to his buddies. By the human spirit. The Council … a turian pulled the trigger on Tarsonis?
"Get all available teams there, now! Local ground assets are KIA, we need-"
The voice of the man on the other end cut off suddenly, replaced by a much louder audio of a very familiar voice.
"I owe a great many of you a debt of blood," said Mengsk, his voice low and furious. "Hear my voice and tremble, for this is the hour the Confederacy breaks. I know who is listening. Members of the Old Family, who once cried out for my family's extinction, whose hidden hands ordered Korhal's destruction. Military men, eyes widening in horror as the regime they safely enforced is suddenly torn asunder in a masterstroke. Yes, that is a psi emitter. And yes … it is now active."
"Scream as Korhal screamed. In terror. In pain. Burn as Korhal burned. And when it is done, when your planet and your families are no more than cooling ashes…"
The device thrummed in the distance. The trees shifted, their leaves crinkling with an unseen wind.
"I will forge an empire where you once stood, greater than anything you wretches could even dream of, one divorced of your memory, of your taint. Now … cry out in terror. Scream for mercy. I am the only one who can hear you."
The sky darkened. David brought a hand to his mouth, a fruitless gesture given that he was enclosed within the helmet. He watched, horrified yet transfixed, as a fresh cloud formed in the corner of the poor marine's vision.
"Tarsonis," breathed someone from behind him, making him turn. The newscaster in burgundy had slid himself against a wall. As David watched, he pulled his knees towards himself. "Oh my God. It was him. It was him all along. Oh…"
The editing magic of whoever had been responsible for the presentation of this information set in then. Image after image flashed across the screen of the skies darkening, of hunks of charred metal raining from the sky as the screaming started. It did not stop. David caught glimpses of great cities burning, of children being torn in half by pairs of zerglings as if they were dogs fighting over a bone, of a man lying in a puddle of gore, his legs melted by some zerg hellbeast's acid.
Again and again it briefly returned to the poor marine as the turians fled, as the trees became coated in pulsing corruption, as the zerg carried off her body while the ground rotted around them and Tarsonis became unrecognizable.
"January 16, 2500, a tragic day for humanity and indeed all the galaxy," said a chirpy female voice. David turned to look at the newscasters again, and the woman was holding both her hands to her mouth in shock. Lockwell, I think. That's your voice.
"On the sixth anniversary of this tragedy, Emperor Arcturus Mengsk has declared a planet wide vigil for the victims of Tarsonis, alien and human alike, in recognition of the grief and suffering the Sector experienced that fateful day. Families of the two and a half billion victims…"
"…are no more than cooling ashes."
"Oh my God," the male newscaster kept muttering to himself, laughing weakly. "Oh my God…"
"Viewership swiftly escalating throughout the galaxy," reported EDI, voice crisp and somehow unreal in the face of the footage. "Footage uploaded to the extranet. Four billion hits in three minutes."
The whole galaxy is going to see this. David's hands shook. They're going to see this. And all hell is going to break loose. And it started here … with my hands. I'm … I'm not sure what I've done. This is the seed of something, of the Dominion's fall, but what will come after?
"And this is why we have struck against you, Citizen Mengsk," boomed Admiral DuGalle's voice, the footage cutting to him, standing resplendent in his uniform against the backdrop of the UED's eagle and bolts. "This is why we have secured the relay against the Council. Why we separate the aliens and prepare to send them back. You are all complicit."
"Arcturus Mengsk ordered the emitter planted, but the Council had just as much say. And it was by their hands that Tarsonis was ended, that one man was able to effortlessly secure the titles of both history's greatest mass murderer and race traitor in the space of hours. And then, in the wake of the Great War's end, the time Mengsk was at his most vulnerable … they covered it up. They needed his help to rebuild, so they deliberately framed the greatest crime in history as … a tragic accident."
Admiral DuGalle's voice shook, and actual tears could be seen at his eyes. His arms were still folded back and his bearing was still impeccably stiff, but his face trembled with emotion.
"There are no words that can fully encapsulate the degree of both disappointment and contempt I feel towards our fellow sapients, our brethren in these stars. The turian in the video is Saren Arterius, a famed war hero and Council Spectre. For the crime of placing the emitter, he was uplifted into the ranks of the elite. Wherever you are, Saren, I hope you see this, and I hope you quake at the thought of our coming."
"For this I pledge: humanity will have no part of the Council and its corrupt dealings. We will have no part of any current terran nation, all of whom were aware to varying degrees of the culpability of both the Council and Arcturus Mengsk, and yet remained silent for it was expedient."
"And we will have no part of the protoss, our so-called "guardians," for they participate in follies of their own. See the Citadel's recent attacks. See … Eden Prime."
Eden Prime? David watched in horror as footage, inexplicable footage, played from the monitors. A storm raged on in a dark and gloomy terran colony, Eden Prime, flashes of gunfire visible from the aerial view. The view zoomed in and revealed shadowy figures bearing glowing warp blades, their weapons flashing in the dark. A colonial marine fell in two pieces at their feet, and they moved on. At their side, strange insectoid beings placed frozen colonials into strange coffins and pushed them towards their ship. The footage cut repeatedly to show evidence of both parties, one capturing, the other slicing and subduing.
So … there are the ITSA's enemies. I wonder if they'll remain firebrands in the face of such a powerful enemy? David hoped so. If the protoss were indeed mankind's enemies, they would need every ally they could get.
"There is no undoing these crimes," thundered DuGalle as David turned to face his team, motioning for them to retreat and begin securing the building, for it would surely be under siege soon, and they had wasted too much time. "There is no denying the scope of them. The deliberate nature of them, as well as the cover-up that ensued once the flames died. You are all guilty … so guilty. And we, the men and women of the United Earth Directorate … we are your punishment. We are your reward."
"So to all of you, human and xeno, I say to you that this is the hour the blindfold slips away from your eyes, and you see one another as you truly are, either cowardly, desperate, and afraid, in denial of what we have shown you … or burning with anger, righteousness. Ready to do justice, no matter the cost, damn the political consequences."
"Men and women of all races … serve justice. Serve righteousness. Serve vengeance. Tear down these establishments and make these people answer for their crimes. Go mad with grief. Tear out your hair. And strike down the vipers who have lied to you, claimed to have served you. And to the men and women born of Earth, once upon a time…"
"…serve the Directorate. Serve humanity. Forward, in the name of Tarsonis, and the name of Earth!"
David and his team arrived in an empty lobby, and took up position without incident. Outside, even in the face of a planetary invasion, a riot now raged.
Next Chapter: Wrex
