A Matter of Race and Character
SIEGE: Part Two
A-61 Mantis Gunship, 3 Kilometres AGL, Gellix – 16:05 UTC – 26th February 2183 CE
After just ten-minutes of flying, Gabby had come to the conclusion that the A-61 Mantis Gunship, as a mode of transport, was altogether too loud, too hot and way too uncomfortable.
The human engineer was attempting to settle in her seat, but it was a losing battle. She felt wedged in. The 45-kilo field pack that had been unceremoniously strapped to her armour before she left Entarus Station didn't help matters. The Mantis' cabin – a standard troop carrier configuration with three aisle-facing seats on either side of the cabin, and the pilot's seat facing forward in the open cockpit – was supposed to be able to transport six ground troops in full weapons and armour, which, technically it did, but the designers seemed to have placed a premium on comfort.
Gabby was sat at the rear of the cabin, her left shoulder jammed up against the bulkhead and her right arm digging awkwardly into Erata's body armour, pressing against a spot that she would really rather not be touching!
The asari next to her shifted her weight to try and relieve the pressure on her chest plate. She eyed the human and smiled, then leaned in slightly. "Snug fit, eh, Kitten?" she said ruefully, having to raise her voice to be heard over the noise in the cabin.
Gabby gave a perfunctory nod and turned her attention to the other occupants. Pella was sat next to Erata, while two of their bodyguards were strapped onto the bench opposite, and the third soldier piloting the gunship. Gabby noted that neither Pella nor any of the slender turian guards appeared to have any trouble fitting into their seats.
Obviously, the gunship is specifically tailored to fit turians, she noted.
Pella turned in her seat – something she can do way too easily! Gabby silently complained – and called out to the soldier sitting directly in front of the human.
"Does the prison complex have helipads, or are we going to have to land on the roof somewhere?"
The soldier nodded. "There are landing pads," he replied, the man also raising his voice. "The facility is built two kilometres AGL, above ground level. But there is also a road leading up to it, I believe. Like most of the prisons here, it was built in remote locations to deter escape attempts."
"Unless the convicts had outside help," Erata commented.
"The prisoners would need a coordinated effort to break out of most of these facilities."
"The last prison we visited was booby-trapped," Gabby pointed out, thinking back to their experiences at Dhazig Penal Colony. "Are we likely to run into the same thing again?"
"It's possible," the leader conceded. "We'll sweep for traps and unexploded ordnance, but our main priority is getting the comms operational."
The pilot turned his head and called out. "Two minutes to target."
The lead turian nodded; he turned to the three engineers. "Alright, when we land, Vranus and I will sweep forward and clear the area ahead. We'll then escort you three to the main doors. Your job is to hack the lock and access the facility. If we're lucky the comm array should still be active and it'll be a simple case of linking with the Gellix comm-buoy."
"And if we're unlucky?" Pella asked. "If the comm is damaged?"
"Then we'll assess the situation and adapt. Maybe the array can be fixed…"
A sudden loud beep from the cockpit caught his attention.
The pilot turned and called out. "We have company! Two gunships just entered the sector. On an intercept course."
"Dare I ask if they're ours?" the leader asked.
"You can ask, but you know what the answer's gonna be!" the pilot replied. Another beep sounded – this one more insistent. "We're being targeted!"
"Evasive manoeuvres!" the leader ordered.
"Buckle up!" the pilot yelled. "It's going to get bumpy."
Gabby barely had time to tighten her shoulder straps before the gunship pitched violently and dived, gaining speed as it plummeted towards the mountains.
The dizzying feeling of vertigo almost overtook her, and her stomach heaved in protest. Gabby covered her mouth.
Stupid, poorly designed Mantis Gunships!
The Mantis descended rapidly. The pilot levelled out and skimmed the tops of the mountains, jinking the craft left and right over and between peaks in an effort to evade the pursuing enemy.
The Mantis crested a low-lying peak, its left wing kissing the top of the mountain and removing a souvenir of snow-capped ice.
"Target in visual range," the pilot announced. Gabby craned her head to see through the windscreen.
The Dytane Penal Colony appeared on the far horizon. The massive facility looked like it had been carved into the mountain, its circular outer buildings fronted by a series of landing pads and elevated walkways.
"Are the gunships still following us?" the leader asked.
Tracer-fire strafed the Mantis' kinetic barriers. Then an explosion rocked the cabin; the flak from enemy missiles threatening to tear extra ventilation holes in the hull.
"That would be an affirmative!" the pilot confirmed.
"We're almost to the colony. Stay low."
"If we can get close enough to the landing pad I can put this baby down, drop you off, and then try to draw them away," the pilot suggested.
Another impact jolted the cabin. The craft lurched away from the explosion.
"Could you please shoot those bastards!" the leader ordered.
"I have missile lock!" the pilot said. "Firing!"
The pilot launched the missiles. Six high-yield Inferno Precision Kill Rockets burst outward from the Mantis' weapons bay above the wings. The missiles separated and curved around, flying directly towards the enemy gunships.
The enemy craft broke formation, banking away in an effort to evade the incoming projectiles. One veered off to the right, far too slowly to avoid the rockets. Four missiles found their target, impacting against the craft's kinetic barriers and disrupting its flight pattern. The rockets didn't penetrate the armour but they were enough to send it spinning off course. The gunship was too close to the mountains and it impacted against a rocky outcrop, exploding in a twisted mass of flame and metal.
Of the other gunship, there was no sign…
Until the high pitched tone of missile lock sounded from the Mantis' cockpit.
The enemy craft appeared from behind a mountaintop and fired all of its remaining rockets at once.
The pilot saw the incoming missiles on his screen. He pitched the Mantis violently as he tried to avoid the barrage, but it was no use. Multiple detonations destroyed their shields. Shrapnel embedded itself in the hull, the blasts taking out one of the vectored-thrusters.
Alarms echoed around the compartment. A red warning light flashed insistently. Smoke started to fill the cabin.
"We lost thruster 2!" the pilot yelled. "I can't maintain altitude. We're going in! Brace for impact!"
"Get down!" Erata yelled as she pushed Gabby and Pella into crash positions.
The Mantis dropped, its one remaining thruster struggling to keep it in the air. The circular landing pad of the Penal Colony honed into view, getting rapidly larger in the cockpit window.
At the last second the pilot increased power to the thruster, spinning the craft to bring it in rearwards first, hoping to soften the landing.
It wasn't a soft landing.
The impact shook Gabby to her core, threatening to pitch her from her seat.
There was a sudden feeling of weightlessness as the Mantis skimmed off the raised landing pad and crashed belly-down onto a skywalk. Sparks flew off the metal surface. The craft squealed down a long staging area, eventually grinding to a halt a few metres from the colossal prison doors.
Gabby raised her head stiffly; every muscle in her body was aching. It was the second time that day she'd been in a crash.
"Anyone hurt?" the leader asked.
Gabby didn't reply; she'd just spotted the second enemy gunship through the cockpit canopy, the craft hovering above the landing pad, its weapons trained on them. Smoke was drifting out of its portside thruster.
Good to see some of our missiles hit home, Gabby noted with grim satisfaction.
No-one moved. They were all waiting for the inevitable final attack.
Then the comm suddenly sprang to life and a harsh male voice snarled through the speakers, "You are defenceless! Surrender now or be destroyed. Do not try to be heroes. If you fight, you will die. Surrender and you live. Under the edicts of subjugation you are now the property of the Batarian Hegemony. We own you now! Punishments for resisting your masters are harsh. But life as a slave is infinitely preferable to being massacred. And if you're lucky you might make a good profit in the marke…"
But his speech was interrupted.
The enemy craft exploded in a massive fireball as six Inferno PKRs erupted from the Mantis' weapons bay, demolishing the craft's armour and cutting him off midsentence.
The flaming wreckage fell from the sky and crashed onto the edge of the landing pad. It toppled backwards and disappeared from view, the debris falling into the canyon below.
"I think that's quite enough of that," the pilot said, taking his finger off the trigger.
"He liked the sound of his own voice, didn't he?" Erata commented.
"Not anymore," Gabby said.
"Good riddance to slaver assholes," Pella spat.
"Alright, evacuate!" the leader ordered. He rose from his seat and popped the rear hatch, ushering his team out of the craft.
Gabby unfastened her straps and ducked down to exit the cramped cabin. She felt the chill of the wind as soon as she emerged. The team followed her, quickly moving away from the downed Mantis.
"I'm getting really tired of crashing!" Pella growled.
"That was a first for me!" Erata said. "It's quite invigorating."
"It loses its novelty value very quickly!" Gabby assured her. "Trust me."
"Not one of your better landings, Piette," the leader said to the pilot.
"We walked away from it. I'd call it a good one," the man retorted.
They hustled down the staging area towards the entrance.
The main building was at least six stories high – much taller than the two flat-topped circular edifices that flanked the central structure – its massive double doors delineated by a vertical yellow and black chevron that stretched up its entire length.
The group stopped at the foot of the gates. Gabby moved across to the right of the doors, popping open a small access panel set into the wall and studying the readings.
She frowned. "Strange… the doors aren't locked," she said. "Looks like the base is powered down, but I might be able to give it enough juice to manually open the doors."
An orange hologram appeared around her left arm. Gabby quietly synced her omni-tool with the door controls; adjusting the settings on the panel. "The doors have been opened recently. There's still some residual energy in the servos. I think I can get the doors partially open… hang on… there!"
A ringing clunk echoed from the mechanism. Gabby stepped back as the massive doors slid apart, the chevron splitting in two. Slowly, the gate opened. The leader brought his weapon up and made a quick scan of the interior. He slipped between the gaps, closely followed by the other soldiers.
There was a grating crunch as the doors abruptly stopped.
Then they started to close.
"Power's dying. It's resetting to standby. Get inside, quickly!" Erata ordered.
The asari, the turian, and the human rushed through the closing gap.
It was dark. Emergency lighting flickered on-and-off, bathing the area in shadowy red gloom. The doors banged shut behind them, sealing them in.
They were in a massive hanger; a wide Take-Off and Vertical Landing area stretched out before them. A white unadorned UT-47 Kodiak drop shuttle (informally known as the 'combat cockroach' due to its squat, insect-like shape) lay abandoned on the landing rails, its rear service hatch open and parts removed. The three soldiers swept up the broad stairs to the left of the L-shaped gangway leaving the engineers to examine the lower area.
Pella walked up to the transparent safety barrier and wrinkled her nose. "What is that? Smells like scorched metal."
Gabby glanced around. An industrial-standard flame heat gun was on the floor by the main doors, next to a half-eaten silver ration packet of 'FieryChili Verde'. Glancing at the walls Gabby noticed that the old symbol of the Dytane Penal Colony, a circular emblem with the picture of a fierce looking eagle, had been partially burned away. Someone had tried to remove it, but the job wasn't finished, as if they'd been interrupted in the task.
"There's a ration pack on the floor and someone's tried to burn off this logo. We're not alone here," she said.
Erata brought her rifle up. "Be ready," she advised. "This could be a merc base."
"Since when do mercenaries redecorate?" Pella asked.
Erata grinned. "Everyone needs a place to call home," she said. "Perhaps they've found themselves a nice fixer-upper and want to do some stencilling!"
"That's all we need… a gang of house-proud mercs!" Pella muttered.
They moved onwards, following the soldiers up the wide stairway that led to a long observation platform with a computer console set against the left wall and a security door barring the way.
"This might have been the main security cordon, where they brought prisoners in for processing," Pella observed.
Erata examined the doors with her omni-tool. "No power going to them," she said. "But they're not locked either."
The soldiers prised the doors apart.
Behind the doors was a second staircase; the steps leading up to another security door. After forcing their way though, the group emerged on the bottom level of an airy mezzanine security room with a third staircase off to the right leading up. On the top deck, a bank of monitors and computer desks were arranged in front of an expansive observation window that took up the far side of the room. Directly opposite the window was another heavy security door, with a large side area to the right of the stairs, which Gabby guessed was an interrogation room.
Gabby poked her head inside the room. It was littered with various expensive looking monitors and scanning equipment; some of the makes she didn't recognise, but she could make out one Serrice Council medical scanner and a few Alliance-made examination beds.
"What is all this?" Pella asked.
Erata shrugged. "Doesn't look like standard equipment for a prison…"
"No," Gabby concurred, "looks more like a science lab."
The colony was deserted.
It was clear there had been visitors to the base recently, but other than their attempt to burn off the old prison logos, and the collection of brand new equipment in the science lab, there was no sign of anyone.
The team split into three groups of two, each engineer accompanied by a bodyguard. Gabby volunteered to check out the power plant in the lower levels, while Pella ventured outside to assess the status of the comm-tower. Meanwhile, Erata began a full accounting of every file in the colony's archive, trying to discover who had been there before them; a job that, as it turned out, didn't take her very long.
At eighteen-hundred, exactly one hour after they'd split up, Gabby, Pella, and their turian shadows walked into the monitor room that had become the team's temporary base of operations. Erata looked up from the console she was stooped over.
"What's the word?" Gabby asked the asari.
"Pretty much what you see here. The database has been wiped. The records are gone, security cameras disabled. Apart from the food and the heat gun, you wouldn't know anyone else had been here." Erata looked at Pella. "What's the status of the comm?"
"The satellite dish is offline; a few components have been removed – deliberately disabled, by the looks of it. But it shouldn't take too-long to get it operational. If we can scrounge parts from the comm in the crashed Mantis and bits we find around the base, I think we might be able to do it. Then it'll need a quick reboot and circuit diagnostic. But I can't do anything until we get the power up and running."
"That's our real problem," Gabby piped up. "The power plant is out of action. The base is running off minimal emergency reserves – not enough to power the comms. Most of the circuits and mechanisms in the generator are burnt out"
"Sabotage?" Erata asked.
"No, looks like normal wear-and-tear. The power plant hasn't been maintained properly. The components should have been replaced every six months, but as far as I can tell it still retains all its original parts. I reckon the prison staff ran the core into the ground, presumably trying to cut corners and save credits."
"You mean there's no chance of getting it operational?" the turian beside Erata asked.
Gabby thought about it. "Well… we could create temporary components using our omni-tools' fabrication modules if we found enough spare alloys to use as base materials."
Pietta, their turian pilot, was sceptical. "You really think that'll work?"
"Yeah, we should be able to MacGyver something together," she declared with confidence. The turians and the asari frowned in confusion at the obscure human expression.
"Mac-what…?" the leader asked.
"I mean, the generator could be jury rigged, but it's a major job," Gabby clarified.
"How long would it take?" the leader standing next to Pella demanded.
"With the three of us? Limited resources? Possibly forty hours."
"Then you'd better get to work."
For the next day-and-a-half the team worked around the clock, resting only when their bodies threatened to drop from fatigue. But even when they did sleep, no-one got their head down for more than a few hours.
In an effort to keep their minds sharp, the three engineers divided their time between the comm-tower and the main generator, swapping jobs only when they'd completed a task. The soldiers supported the team when they could, but not being engineers their assistance was invariably more of a hindrance than a help.
As the work dragged on, the team's attention narrowed to a laser point, the engineers becoming so focused that all other concerns, including personal safety, fell away.
They worked feverishly; the exposed skin of their hands and face turning numb from the cold or through sheer exhaustion. Gabby lost count of how many times she sliced her knuckles open on bare metal.
She was in the generator room, working with Erata, and so close to finishing, when exhaustion finally overtook her.
Gabby was leaning against the generator, squinting in the dull red light as her omni-tool slowly constructed its hundredth component of the day, when she momentarily dozed off, her head colliding with the generator's housing. The impact jerked her awake. Then something trickled into her eyes. Irritated, she wiped it away, thinking it was just sweat. She hadn't realise she'd been injured until her fingers came away red and slick with blood.
Gabby gazed down at her hand in mild surprise.
"Oh, damn!" she muttered vaguely, suddenly feeling dizzy.
Her legs betrayed her; her muscles rapidly turning to jello. Gabby tried to grab the generator and almost toppled over, but was saved when two hands grasped her under the armpits and hauled her away, sitting her down on a workbench against the cold, grey wall.
The face of Erata swam in Gabby's vision – the asari's brow knitted with concern. A pad of gauze materialized in her hand and she began to wipe away the blood from Gabby's face.
Gabby stared up at the blue alien gratefully. "Thank you… I guess I didn't realise how tired I was," she admitted.
"You've been up nearly two days straight," Erata pointed out. "I'm surprised you lasted this long. I shouldn't worry though; you're not the only one strung out thin. I almost welded my own thumb to the comm-tower before Pella stopped me."
Gabby glanced down at her hands – they were shaking. "How long before we finish?"
"Not long now. We just have to install a couple more components."
"We need to get back to it, then." Gabby started to rise from the bench, but a pair of strong hands held her down.
"You need sit there and let me deal with this cut," Erata insisted. "You don't want blood loss or a possible concussion making you pass out."
"Medi-gel will take care of it," Gabby said dismissively. "Besides, you're not a doctor, and I'm not asari. Just 'cause you've got a medi-pack doesn't make you an expert on my biology."
Erata fished a tube of medi-gel out of her field pack and leaned in close to the human, smearing the salve into the cut. "Oh, I've become quite familiar with human anatomy over the years," she replied smirking.
Gabby smiled. "Yeah, I don't doubt it. Well, as long as you don't ask me strip off, or anything. I haven't had a proper wash since leaving Entarus! I'm pretty ripe under this suit."
Erata tapped her own breastplate. "I don't exactly smell of flowers myself, Kitten!"
"I would kill for a shower, actually."
"As good a reason as any to get the job done quickly… tell you what, you can be first in the thermae once we're back at Entarus Station…" she promised.
"Now that's a plan I like," Gabby admitted.
Erata smiled as she brushed Gabby's hair away from her forehead, tucking the loose strands behind her left ear. She let her fingers whisper over Gabby's soft cheek, delicately caressing the almost invisible cloud of downy hair common to all humans.
The contact lingered; the asari enjoying the sensation of velvety alien skin, at once so familiar and yet so unique.
Erata smiled; more to herself than anyone else. This was the closest physical contact she'd had with another person since landing on this wretched world, and, potentially, could be the most intimate encounter she would have with anyone for a very long time.
Why shouldn't I saviour the moment? Why not prolong the experience?
Her palm cupped Gabby's cheek in a warm embrace.
Erata glanced up and locked eyes with the alien.
The human was very still, her eyebrows arched upwards, and eyelids blinking rapidly in confusion. Heat started to build beneath Erata's palm as colour blossomed on Gabby's cheeks. Erata watched Gabby's face flush a deeper shade of pink. She knew from experience this was a sign of embarrassment in humans, but more often, a sign of passion; of need.
A familiar craving started to build in Erata's chest; that yearning desire to open her mind and meld with another's thoughts. She could feel her own face start to flush, her teal skin deepening to cerulean blue.
She leaned in slowly, her face hovering so close that she could feel the human's hot breath on her lips.
"Erata…?" Gabby whispered, breathing in shallow, anxious exhales.
The asari's other hand rose to stroke Gabby's right cheek, the smoothness and warmth of the human's skin sending a shiver of delight down her arm. Erata spoke – her voice no louder than a murmur. "Such deep brown eyes, Kitten… a person could drown in them."
Dazed, dumbstruck, and caught off-guard to say the least, Gabby simply stared back.
Erata tilted her head. The human's lips looked so inviting…
"Status report! How's the work coming?" a flanging voice cut through the air.
The spell broken, Erata jerked away as if she'd received an electric shock.
Gabby's omni-tool was glowing orange. The turian leader was demanding an update.
Neither the human nor the asari replied immediately. It took them a moment to gather their thoughts. Erata's gaze was still locked on Gabby.
Eventually, Gabby lifted her arm and spoke into her omni-tool.
"Daniels here. We were… we are close to finishing…"
"We need that generator online now!" the turian insisted.
"What's happened?"
"A couple of gunships just did a flyby. They weren't ours! Colony defences are offline, so we need the generator working. Failing that, I need you up here in case we need to bug out fast."
"Understood," Gabby confirmed.
Erata was already on the move, striding towards the generator, her omni-tool building another component.
"You head up to the command centre. I'll finish off here," Erata said.
"Don't you need help?"
"I got this!" the asari insisted. She had her back to Gabby, refusing to look at her. "Head up there and redirect the power once I get the generator working. This won't take long."
"Okay…" Gabby agreed hesitantly, and bustled away, making for the upper levels.
Science Lab, Dytane Penal Colony, Gellix – 06:50 UTC – 28th February
Gabby hurried through the open security doors at the rear of the room, emerging from the dark red-lit tunnels into the bright command centre.
Pella and the three turian soldiers were by the computer monitors. Pella turned to intercept her as soon as she appeared.
"Where's Erata?" Pella demanded.
"Just finishing off," Gabby explained. "She'll be with us soon."
"We may have to evacuate," the turian leader announced. Gabby frowned. She felt slightly uncomfortable that she still didn't know his name. "The batarians are sniffing around. They've been doing visual recons, investigating the wreckage of our gunship."
"How are we supposed to evacuate?" Gabby asked. "That Mantis is toast! There's no way off this rock."
"Not necessarily," Pella said. She was smiling.
"While you were working on the generator, I ordered Vettiill to take a look at that abandoned shuttle on the TOVL rails," the leader explained.
"Its element zero core was depleted. But everything else, including atmospheric thrusters and navigation was working. I managed to extract the element zero canister from the Mantis' core, and rig it up to the shuttle. It's not pretty, the eezo containment cylinder isn't an exact match, and the mass effect field won't get us very far – certainly not into space – but it works. We've got transport!"
"That's excellent!" Gabby exclaimed. "You did all that and fixed the comm-tower?"
Pella shrugged nonchalantly. "Turns out, the comm-tower didn't need as much work as the generator."
At that moment, the lights in the room brightened. Several monitors, including the scanners in the science lab that weren't running off emergency reserves suddenly sprung to life. The generator was fixed. The colony was powering up.
"Let there be light!" the voice of Erata sounded through the comm.
The leader spoke into his omni-tool. "Great work, D'Ceni. Get up here!"
"On my way," Erata confirmed.
Looking through the window, Gabby noticed three gunships reconnoitre the colony.
"Here they come again," the turian pilot muttered.
Gabby moved instinctively towards the bank of computers, checking the status of the satellite dish.
"The comm-tower is online."
"Connect with the Gellix comm-buoy," the leader ordered. He turned to Pella. "Vettiill, prep the shuttle for evac."
Pella nodded and withdrew down the stairs to the hanger.
"We may have to fight our way through them. Are the colony AA Towers operational?" the leader asked Gabby.
It took Gabby only a moment to check. She shook her head. "No, the guns aren't powering up. Doesn't look like we can fix them this end. They might have to be reconnected manually. We'd have to go outside."
"I'm not sending anyone into the firing line of a gunship. Transmitting that distress signal is top priority. Just connect with the comm-buoy."
"I'm trying."
Erata materialized from the red-hued corridor at the rear of the command centre and rushed towards them.
"You have power, I see," she said. "Have you made contact with the Hierarchy?"
Gabby shook her head.
"I can't get a lock. The satellite dish won't connect with the comm-buoy. I think the gunships might be trying to jam us. The only thing I'm getting is a distress signal. It's clogging up every frequency."
"Is the signal from Anapondus?" the leader asked. "They might have got their comms working."
"Localising." Gabby was quiet as she set the scanner to focus in on the signals' origin. "It's originating about twenty clicks from our position. A distress beacon… let me put it on speakers." Gabby flipped a switch. A distorted flanging voice oscillated over the comms, the signal drifting in-and-out of audible range, interspersed by the hiss of static.
"…Gency… …Anapondu… …attacked by batarians. We need assist… … Hierarchy… … Tyrus damaged… … lease respond…" After a few seconds the message repeated.
"An automated beacon. From one of our convoys," the leader said. He stepped up to the console to verify the authorisation codes embedded in the message. "These check out. We have troops in need of an airlift."
The turian pilot pointed at the gunships hovering over the landing pads. "Looks like those gunships are preparing for an airdrop." Erata joined him by the window.
"Can you override the signal from the gunships?" the leader asked Gabby. "Cut through the interference to access the comm-buoy?"
"Maybe… if I had more time…" Gabby began.
Erata pointed out the window and called out urgently. "Time's up! They're dropping troops."
Gabby and the leader looked up. The rear hatches of the three gunships had opened and batarians were spilling out onto the landing pads. Gabby counted eighteen heavily armed mercenaries doggedly moving towards the remains of their Mantis.
"Enemy troops incoming," the pilot called out. "They know we're here."
"We're outnumbered and outgunned. Suggestions?" the leader asked.
"It'll take them a while to hack their way in. But, even if the main doors do keep the troops out, without those AA Towers their gunships could still reduce this command centre to rubble. We won't stand much of a chance in a fire-fight," the pilot said. "On the other hand, a shuttle can outrun a gunship."
Erata looked around in surprise. "What? The shuttle's working?" she asked.
"You're suggesting we retreat?" the third turian soldier – Vranus – asked the pilot in disgust. "I've never shown my back to an enemy!"
"We're closer to the distress beacon than anyone else. We can rescue the troops, thereby bolstering our numbers to even the odds in our favour," the pilot reasoned. "We can come back with greater numbers and retake this place."
"Unless they get the AA guns working, in which case we've handed them a fortress!" Gabby pointed out.
"We can code-lock the controls," Erata said. "They won't be able to access the computer."
The leader was silent for a few moments. "I agree with Piette. We need reinforcements, and there are Hierarchy troops in need of rescue. I'm ordering a full evac!"
"But we just got this thing working!" Gabby protested. "It's taken hours to repair! And now we're handing it over to the batarians?"
"Until we come back and kick them out, yeah," the leader said. Gabby was not convinced. "Look, we can stand here arguing about it and let them take the base over our dead bodies, or we can come back in greater numbers and let them do the dying!"
"When you put it like that…" Gabby began.
An explosion echoed from the hanger as the mercs reached the main door.
"They're attempting to blast their way in!" Erata said.
"This isn't a democracy! We're moving!" the leader bellowed.
There were no more arguments.
Gabby hastily typed away at the interface, locking out the controls with a code-lock.
"Come on!" Erata yelled at her.
The team hurried down the stairway. With the power restored the security doors had reset in their default closed status. The first set of doors opened automatically as the group approached, but they encountered a problem when they tried to access the hanger. The team gathered by the security cordon, anxiously waiting for them to open.
"Low power. Please wait," a recorded voice stated helpfully. Several agonising seconds passed until, finally, the doors parted. "Reset complete. Access enabled."
The shuttle had moved off the landing rails and was now resting on the walkway directly in front of the doors. Pella emerged from the shuttle's cabin as they entered the hanger.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Batarians!" the leader explained, running down the steps. "Is the shuttle prepped?"
"She's ready," Pella confirmed.
"We're leaving. Now!"
The team piled into the shuttle. The pilot took the helm beside Pella, while Gabby and Erata settled into passenger seats on opposite sides of the cabin.
The leader moved over to an access panel by the main doors. He recalibrated the controls, programing them to open after a twenty second interval. Turning on his heel, he ran and leapt into the shuttle. Gabby slammed her hand against the lock, shutting the cabin doors.
The squat, wedge-shaped shuttle powered up and lifted a couple of metres off the ground, its fore and aft directional thrusters twitching like insect antennae.
The team waited. The seconds counted down. They were relying on the element of surprise.
"They won't be expecting us to have another aircraft. When the doors open, fly straight past those gunships," the leader ordered.
The pilot nodded. "Yes, sir,"
The whine in the cabin changed pitch as the pilot built the core up to full power.
The doors slid open. Batarians swarmed through the gap – only to stop dead when they saw the craft. A few of the mercs actually did double takes at the craft hovering in front of them.
The gap opened wider, and the pilot sent the power surging to the thrusters. The shuttle burst out between the doors, its thruster reheat igniting the mercs unfortunate enough to be caught in the wake.
The shuttle raced between the unprepared gunships at high speed, quickly disappearing out of visual range between two mountain peaks.
Gabby was gripping her seat. The cabin shuddered and groaned in protest. If anything, this was more uncomfortable than the Mantis. And in such a cramped compartment she was now very aware of the five battle-weary and unwashed aliens sitting beside her. The air in the cabin suddenly felt very close.
Erata, being shaken on the bench, glanced across the cabin and caught Gabby's eye. She flashed a sheepish grin.
Gabby blinked and looked away. She was worn-out, smarting from numerous cuts, and in no fit state to process what had almost happened between them in the generator room. To her regret, Gabby stood up and moved over to the cockpit.
"They're not following us," the pilot said as he checked his scanner.
"Huh! You'd think with so many eyes in their heads they'd be able to see us," Pella joked.
Gabby didn't reply; she'd just spotted something unusual on the shuttle's console.
"What the hell is that?" She pointed at a separate monitor that had just activated.
"What is it?" Pella asked.
"This readout says there's a bank of lithium cells lining the hull. They're storing the shuttle's heat to mask our energy signature. It's an internal emission sink… we wouldn't show up on sensors."
"What? Like a stealth system?" Pella asked.
"Exactly like a stealth system!" Gabby confirmed. She turned to Pella. "This can't be what I think it is, can it…?"
"I think it is," Pella agreed.
"What are you talking about?" the leader asked.
"It's an open secret amongst engineers," Pella explained. "A joint Hierarchy/Alliance project to develop a craft capable of remaining undetected by sinking the ship's heat into the hull. But it's supposed to be restricted technology… no-one else should have access to it."
"Obviously someone else does! Spirits, who built this shuttle?" the leader demanded.
"I have no idea," Gabby muttered.
Erata approached them, craning over Gabby's shoulder to look at the panel. "Whoever it is, they don't exactly have a license for it!"
"Well, if it's stolen technology, we were right to seize it," the leader declared. "Commander Joric will be very interested in this."
"Assuming she's still alive…" the pilot muttered. "The batarians are out in force. We don't know if they've taken Anadonpus."
"You don't know the Commander. She's alive!" the leader said firmly.
"How far to the distress beacon?" Pella asked.
"We're almost there. It's just a click away."
"Pop the hatch," the leader ordered. The cabin doors opened. Lifting his rifle the leader moved to the starboard gull wing hatch and stared out at the icy landscape. The shuttle drifted over a barren plain stretching off far into the distance.
"There it is!" the leader called out, pointing at a minute blinking flare in the centre of the snowy lowlands. "Take us in," he ordered the pilot.
The shuttle descended, slowing as it approached the beacon, until it finally came to rest a couple of dozen metres from the distress signal.
The pilot turned in his seat. "We have another storm coming in. Looks like a big one judging by the scanners. We have to be quick."
"Piette, stay on the shuttle." The leader turned to Pella. "Vettiill, you too. I don't want all our asses left hanging out there. If something should happen to us, get back to Entarus."
"…Yes, sir," Pella reluctantly agreed.
The team of four exited the shuttle, trudging towards the source of the signal. Pella moved into the cabin, watching them through the open hatch. Black storm clouds were billowing on the horizon.
A snow covered vehicle lay on its side, with a small, flashing emergency beacon set beside it.
The team approached the vehicle cautiously. The leader frowned. Something about this wasn't quite right.
They were just a few metres away from the vehicle when they heard the whine of vectored engines.
"Thrusters!" Gabby called out. "Those are gunships!"
The group turned. Sure enough, two gunships crested the mountain top, making a beeline straight for them. They all recognised them as mercenary ships.
"Back to the shuttle!" the leader ordered.
But the ships opened fire. Warning shots strafed between the shuttle and the team. They froze. A deep voice boomed across the plain, carried by the gunships' loudspeakers.
"You think you can screw with Ion Storm!?"
The ships flanked left and right, their weapons bearing down on the group.
They were trapped!
One of the gunships settled on the ice and six armour clad batarians emerged, their rifles levelled at the turian team. Two of the batarians headed for the shuttle, pointing their weapons menacingly at Pella and the pilot.
"Drop your weapons! Don't even think of fighting!" One of the batarians yelled. He nodded towards Erata as he directed his troops. "If that one starts to glow, kill her!"
The team were surrounded; their weapons confiscated or discarded in the snow. The other gunship landed and batarians swarmed out. The merc leader, his green and orange hued face sporting a thin pencil moustache on his upper lip, approached them to inspect his captives. "You gave us the run-around there. I thought turians never showed anyone their backs unless they died?" he sneered.
The turian leader stared back defiantly, his mandibles twitching in revulsion. "Why did you attack Anapondus?" he demanded. "That could be construed as an act of war by the Hegemony! You had to know there's no way you could win against us."
"That wasn't my strategy!" the merc objected. "There's no profit in taking on the Hierarchy. I just want to make a bit of money. Our leader promised us a big score – enough credits and slaves to set us up for life. Revenge was never a part of that. If his brother is stupid enough to get himself killed by you turians, that's his own damn fault. Hazards of the job. We lost more men in that one attack than we have in five years of raids…"
"So what happened to your leader?" Erata asked, a slight smirk gilding her lips.
"He's dead. Back at Anapondus. He overstretched himself – took on an enemy he thought he could catch off-guard… you can see how that turned out. I'm not hanging around to end up like him."
"The energy signature of our shuttle was masked" Gabby pointed out. "How'd you track us here?"
"We didn't," the merc replied. "We were following the distress signal. We're bugging out! This world is too hot for us now. But two of our ships disappeared in this area. When we flew over that facility we saw the crashed Mantis and investigated. We need to salvage something from this fiasco." He pointed at the distress beacon. "A bunch of stranded turians. That's easy pickings. Weapons, armour, salvaged APCs, slaves… they all bring in credits. But it looks like we've found ourselves an even better prize. A working shuttle and saleable merchandise. You'll do well in the markets." He pointed at Gabby. "That one especially!"
"Touch her and I promise I'll rip your heart out!" Erata growled.
"Passionate! I like that. It makes breaking you in all the more satisfying!" The merc brought his weapon up. "Enough talk." He called to his men. "Get the control chips! We'll implant the females first. The men can watch what we do to – what the…?"
The merc looked down. Something had caught his attention.
The ground was shaking!
A muffled roar vibrated through the ice.
The batarians looked around in alarm, searching for the source of the noise, when a geyser of ice exploded behind them. The shuttle shot upwards, tossing Pella from the cabin. She landed heavily, hitting the snow hard and lying still. She was the lucky one. Piette was still in the shuttle. He yelled sharply as the craft was sent hurtling twenty metres into the air, spinning and twisting before it crashed down to earth, rolling several times and finally settling upside down in the snow, battered and broken.
Gabby stared in shock as a creature from her nightmares erupted from the earth.
Standing three-stories tall on a massive grey segmented body, the monster rose from the ground, multiple insect-like 'legs' wriggling like a centipede. Two long fore-limbs extended from either side of its head, the folded appendages resembling those of a praying mantis. It opened its mouth, revealing a vast four-sided maw.
The batarians froze, not believing their own manifold eyes.
Only the turian leader had the presence of mind to grab his weapon and scream a warning.
"Thresher maw!"
The creature let out a deafening roar. The batarians brought their weapons up and fired, peppering it with multiple anti-personnel rounds.
It attacked.
The thresher maw's head crashed down with terrifying speed for something its size.
Three mercs died in a second, crushed by the monster's massive frame.
The remaining batarians fanned out, trying to distance themselves from the creature. Others tried to run for their gunships. One of the gunships rose into the air, the pilot abandoning his troops. It launched several rockets at the thresher, but the only effect it had was to make the creature angry.
A single swipe from its long limbs sent the craft spinning out of control. It hit the ground and exploded.
At that point Gabby ran. Inexplicably, she found herself running towards the thresher maw. Pella was still lying on the ground, close to the monster's writhing body, the turian engineer struggling to rise to her feet.
Gabby managed to reach her and hauled the turian upright. Placing one arm over her shoulder, Gabby dragged her away. Something else grabbed Pella. Gabby looked up. Erata was supporting the turian's other arm.
They ran. The direction didn't matter; they were at the centre of the chaos.
In that flight from the monster, Gabby saw sights that would haunt her dreams.
The turian leader fell to the thresher maw. He was impaled on one of its limbs as he ran towards them – his body lifted into the air and disappearing in a spray of blue mist.
To her left, a group of surviving mercs were firing relentlessly at the creature. It expelled something from its mouth, engulfing the mercs in the fluid. They collapsed, howling in agony as the thresher acid ate through their armour.
Gabby turned away from the screaming organic mess that used to be sentient beings.
That's no way for anyone to die.
"This way!" someone yelled. Their one surviving turian ally, Vranus, was ushering them away from the battle. "I'll cover you!"
They ran past him. Vranus fired up at the creature.
Suddenly, the thresher maw's head impacted into the ground beside them. Then its massive body rose back into the air.
Gabby glanced back. Vranus was gone. There was no body, just a blue stain in the ice where he'd once stood.
Turning away, Gabby, Pella and Erata picked up the pace, their legs pounding into the snow, ignoring the burning sensation in their lungs.
Something hit Gabby's back, but she paid no attention. The trio were still sprinting across the plain, towards the base of the mountains. Behind them the rattle of gunfire ceased. This time, Gabby didn't look back.
The grey clouds loomed ever closer, threatening to consume them before they reached the safety of the foothills.
"There!" Erata yelled, pointing towards the edge of a scree slope. A cave mouth was visible. They ran towards it, their lungs practically bursting from the exertion.
A howl sounded from their right. The wind picked up, gusting past them. Gabby could feel the sting of ice crystals on her face.
By some miracle, they reached the cave. Erata shoved her friends through the entrance and turned to the rocks hanging over the cave mouth. Her body flared blue. She reached up and pulled. The rocks, caught in her telekinetic pulse, quaked against the crag; then they fell. Erata quickly dodged out of the way, directing the falling debris as best she could.
The rocks crashed down, sealing the entrance.
They were plunged into darkness. Gabby activated the flashlight on her omni-tool, the light cutting through the gloom. She felt something grab her back and turned her head.
Erata was tearing at her armour.
"What the hell are you doing?" Gabby shrieked.
"Your armour's breached! You've been hit by thresher acid!"
Gabby looked over her shoulder in alarm. Her armour was discoloured and a patch of liquid was rapidly eating its way through her suit. Gabby yelled and unfastened her breastplate with shaking hands. The armour came away, hitting the ground, the acid still dissolving the metal.
Her armoured leggings came off, leaving Gabby in her thermals. But Erata was still tearing at her clothes.
"It's gone through!" She tore away a piece of fabric from her vest.
Gabby screamed in pain, only now aware of the burning liquid searing her skin.
Erata grabbed a tube of medi-gel and injected it into Gabby's back.
Gabby crumpled to the ground, holding herself as Erata cleaned the wound and placed a field bandage around her torso. The pain slowly subsided, dwindling to a tight ache.
She didn't know how long she lay on the floor. Exhaustion finally claimed her and she passed out. When she opened her eyes, Erata had wrapped her in a silver thermal blanket from her field pack, and was now hovering over Pella's unconscious form.
Gabby tried to rise, but her legs wouldn't support her and she slumped against the cold wall, the awful reality of their situation finally hitting home.
Their turian comrades were dead; a thresher maw had destroyed their transport, and they had no way of contacting the outside world.
And now they were trapped in an ice cave…
… Imprisoned; confined!