A/N: still alive.

Chapter 36: Tooth and Nail Part 1

All Captain Gavorn wanted was a nice, cold and very, very long shower. One that could wash away all the blood, dirt and spirits-know-what-else that was smeared all over him, huddled up with his men behind a barricade on the filthy streets of the Gozer district.

It was a tight squeeze, sharing the cover with four other men, equally smeared with the grime of battle, but comfort was the last thing on one's mind when trying to stay alive. The Blue Suns were restless today, pushing them back violently, street after blood stained street, driving them deeper into the station. Bullets flew overhead and ricocheted off of his cover as he hastily reloaded his assault rifle with bloody, shaking hands. "Say that again, Szizlak?!" he barked over the din of gunfire to one of his men who was kneeling beside him, delivering a sitrep. "I can't hear you over the sound of me trying not to get fucked up here!"

"Points A, C and D have been overran, Cap! Casualties are still piling up!" The batarian repeated, one of his four eyes a freshly bleeding gash. "And we won't be far behind if we don't get out of here!"

"Damn it!" Gavorn swore. "We can't just pack up and fold here! We lose this point then the entire district goes down!" He roared back. "What the hell is Derrudo doing?!" He demanded.

"Derrudo's dead sir!" Szizlak sneered. "Him and half his gang! We have to go now!"

"Great…" Gavorn griped. Derrudo was the one leading the resistance on the other side of the district. With him dead, it explained how they were losing ground faster than they could count their dead. It was a grim picture indeed. He had started out with 70-odd men with him in total to hold this point, packed with enough heavy weapons to weather hundreds of troops and even a couple of tanks that they had liberated from the Suns. It was supposed to have been more than ample to hold this point, and with similar numbers holding other points in the district, it should have been more than secure. Unfortunately these were gangsters, not the highly trained, disciplined soldiers of the Turian Fleet. Tough guys, no doubt, but used to bullying the weak and taking what they want with sheer intimidation. Faced with a threat that could bite back however? It was all sunshine and rainbows at first, but when the shit hit the fan, it really fucking hit the fan. Now all he had left to lead was just a couple dozen able bodied troops with twice that much wounded and even more dead than both combined.

"Gavorn, it's over! We've lost this district!" Szizlak urged. "We have got to go, right fucking now!"

"This district is a hub between several others! If we lose this joint then the Blue Suns will overrun us!" Gavorn persisted as he opened fire at the incoming Suns. "Who do we got on the reserves?! If we can reinforce this point and retake that warehouse a couple of blocks down the street, we can lockdown this area!"

"There's nobody on the reserves you stubborn bastard!" Szizlak said, both of them ducking low as heavy fire pelted at their cover, sending debris into the air. "Nobody able to fight, anyway!"

"Damn it, Szizlak! They take this place and the other districts will go down like dominoes!" As he said that, the man next to them slumped backwards dead after a bullet planted itself between his eyes. "Could you shut your yap for three seconds and help me shoot some Suns?!" Gavorn barked, rising from cover and unloading on a quickly approaching wave of Blue Suns. "We're being overrun here!"

"I get it! I get it! We lose this place then we get at a severe disadvantage. But if we stay we will die you stubborn bastard!" Szizlak announced as the batarian grabbed a light machine gun from a dead gangster, propping it over their barricade and opening fire.

"Less talking more shooting!" Taking a cue from their leader, the defensive line mowed down nearly a third of the advancing Suns and forcing the rest to duck behind cover, stalling the advance for now. Before he could bark out other orders, Gavorn saw several black metal spheres lobbed into the air and hurtling towards them. "Biotics!" he roared.

Not a second later, the grenades halted in mid-air at the top of their arc, plucked by a sprawling field of blue energy radiating from several biotics. With the gre nades detonating harmlessly in the air, Gavorn decided to return the favor by plucking a large grenade from his bandolier and pulled the pin out with his fangs. "Cluster out!" he announced, causing his men to duck as one.

The ensuing explosion blossomed into several smaller ones, ripping into everything in its blast radius and punching a hole through the advancing column of Blue Suns, halting the advance for mere moments.

However, mere moments were all it took for Gavorn to look to his men on the far end of their defenses and gave them quick series of hand signals. One of the men nodded back as the squadron moved forward, intent on taking advantage of the opening.

If they could just make it on top of that pedestrian overpass a few yards down the path, they could outflank the mercs and mow them down in the crossfire.

But just as the opening was made, more mercs seemed to pour out of nowhere to refill the gap. They made quick work of his rushing men, and those who didn't succumb to the torrent of bullets were helplessly pinned down behind cover.

"Do you see now?!" The batarian said, spittle flying from his maw. "Aria's probably left us to die here! Bitch must be halfway to the other side of the galaxy by now! None of this is worth dying for, Gavorn!"

Gavorn cursed as he salvaged what he could from the dead man, slipping thermal clips into his bandolier and unceremoniously grabbing the assault rifle from his still tight grip, tossing the weapon over to another one of his men to use. "Spirits have mercy on you…" He muttered as he closed the corpse's still open eyes with his hands.

"Hey Gavorn! I'm talking to yo-!"

Gavorn turned away from the corpse towards Szizlak, his face contorted into a menacing scowl, mandibles flashing fangs. "Bite your damn tongue, Szizlak, or I might just cut it out myself!" he snarled. "The boss maybe a lot of things but a coward isn't one of them! If she ain't here, there's probably a very damn good reason for it!"

"Are you kidding me?" Szizlak protested. "She's probably dead!"

"If she were dead, the Suns would have been quick to spread that fact! Since they aren't, that means to say that she's most likely still alive!" Gavorn growled coldly. "And in case you've forgotten, if it weren't for the boss, you'd still be hustling homeless degenerates for some pocket change in the slums!" He said, jabbing a finger into the batarian's chest armor. "So show some damned respect!"

Szizlak was flustered, but gained his footing once more. "Be that as it may, I don't intend to die here! And I'm sure as hell none of these other guys do, either!" The batarian wiped his sweaty face with his palm, apparently grappling with what little patience he had left. "They'll take this district whether we fight to the last man or not! But if we die here then it's all over, Gavorn! We're. Fucking. Done. Here."

Gavorn took a quick look around his entrenched defenses and saw every eye glancing at him, if ony for a few seconds at a time between shots. Seems like Szizlak was right. Hell, he was right all along, but Gavorn was just too fired up to see it. Troop morale had been smashed into tiny little pieces and he could do nothing to put it back together again. If he insisted they stayed any more than he already has, they'd probably mutiny. He clicked his mandibles as he reloaded a fresh clip. No, there wasn't much of anything he could do now.

Spirits have mercy on this district, because he doubt that the Blue Suns will.

"Alright… Alright already! Fuck! Sound the retreat!" Gavorn conceded, and he swore he could hear a collective sigh of relief over the din of gunfire. This wasn't supposed to happen. They should have been able to hold this place. But Szizlak was right; If they stayed, they would all die. "Spread the word to all other surviving points! We'll make a fighting retreat for the maintenance shafts and regroup in the Ferreng District!"

The batarian smirked with relief. "About damn time that you saw reason! Now let's get out of here!" Suddenly, Szizlak's head exploded in a spray of red, splattering Gavorn with bits of batarian brain tissue. A half second later, another one of his men's chest erupted with plumes of blood as gun fire peppered him full of holes, and another, and another.

"They're outflanking us!" Gavorn yelled as he saw a squadron of Blue Suns centurions come up their 9 o'clock, unimpeded and raining death on them. He grabbed Szizlak's limp body and hauled it in front of him as a shield just at the nick of time as bullets that were meant to have killed him riddled the corpse instead. He ignored the bite of a couple of rounds that nailed him in the shoulder and the warm blood that spilled from the stump of the batarian's neck and splattered onto his chest. His free hand raised his assault rifle and returned fire on the squadron of Blue Suns that had jumped them. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He chanted as pure survival instinct took over.

The Suns took cover as bullets blazed past them, clearly not expecting anybody to survive their initial strike. But not before Gavorn tagged a couple of them, wounding one in the neck while killing the other one outright. The sound of the wounded one choking on his own blood got Gavorn blood thirsty. He wasn't going to die here, not today.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as Gavorn unloaded with his rifle in suppressing fire, encouraging the Suns to keep hidden behind cover. Such was his adrenaline high that he barely even noticed the bullet that tore right through his left knee, adding his own blood to the growing scarlet pool that he was now lying on top of. It seemed like forever before the rest of his men turned their lines of sight on the exposed flank, regrouping behind cover that protected them on both fronts now. A sense of relief washed over him as he felt a hand grab the collar of his armor, pulling him out from underneath Szizlak's corpse and towards safety. Poor Szizlak, he managed to think to himself. The bastard deserved better.

That same sense of relief was quickly washed away with terror as he saw a small, black sphere fly out from behind the Suns' cover and towards his men. It looks like he might just catch up to Szizlak just yet.

"Grenade!" Someone yelled out as the thing bounced several meters to his right. The one pulling Gavorn away tried to hustle them both to safety but it was no use.

There was a flash and Gavorn was weightless as the whole station seemed to be tumbling about around him. His ears rung as his mind went numb; he knew his body was still here in the battle, but at the same time he felt like he was a million miles away. He tried to will his legs to get him up, his arms to grip his gun, but it felt like trying to move your body in a dream. Or in this case a nightmare.

He could only watch helplessly as the Suns started to close in on them and more of his men were slaughtered.

His head was still spinning when he found himself in a crumpled heap of pain, bloodied and battered. He tried to move, and his body sung in agony from the effort. At least he was faring better than his rescuer however, who took the brunt of the explosion. For now, anyway. He couldn't even recognize the mangled corpse anymore to know who he owed his life to.

His ears were still ringing as a blue armored centurion approached him, gun raised and an amused smile on his face. The centurion's lips were moving, but trash talk was wasted on the temporarily deaf. Arrogant bastard, Gavorn thought as his arm tried to feebly raise his gun. The centurion had ample time to kill him a dozen times by now, but the merc just slowly approached him, drawing out the inevitable. Gavorn gulped down a curse; They both knew how this would end.

So it was little wonder that both of them were quite surprised when a wave of blue energy rushed past Gavorn and flew directly into the centurion's chest, lifting him off of his feet and suspending the flabbergasted man in mid-air. The man convulsed as the energy sparked around him, just before he was ripped apart in a cloud of biotic flame.

Gavorn looked over his shoulder to see a hooded woman, clad in black standing behind him, one arm clutching an SMG while the other glowed with biotic power. "You…?" He managed to say weakly as another pair of hands grabbed him and started to drag him off to safety once more. "What are you doing here?"

Nyreen Kandros gave him a brief smile before directing her attention fully back on the battlefield. "Saving your sorry hide, apparently." She said as she opened fire on their pursuers, retreating alongside him. "What? You think I was going to be gone forever?" The turian female added as she lobbed a ball of energy towards the Blue Suns, flowering into a bright blue explosion that sent mercs flying everywhere. "All units: secure who you can and fall back into the tunnels!" she commanded over her comm.

It was then that Gavorn noticed that she was not alone. Over a dozen similarly black-clad soldiers were dispersed among his men, bolstering positions as they gave them enough time to retreat. The soldier that was pulling him away to safety was also dressed as such. "At the risk of sounding ungrateful, you could have brought more guys!"

"This is a rescue, not reinforcements!" Nyreen chided him as a biotic barrier shimmered into life around them, just in time to deflect a barrage of gunfire. "Can you walk?"

"I can't even lift my gun!" He called out to her. "How do we get out of here? They're right on top of us!" The feeling still wasn't back to his limbs, and he could only watch helplessly as things continued to go bad.

"And whose fault is that?" She replied, not sparing him any sting. "We can lose them in the tunnels! That place is a hedge maze!"

"Well I don't have any better ideas, so why the hell not?" Gavorn replied. "Where've you been, Nyreen?"

"Enough with the questions, Gavorn! Time for that later!" She admonished him, reloading her gun with a fresh clip.

Gavorn just hoped there was a later. Yep. That long, cold shower was looking even more inviting with each passing second.

A few moments ago, outside of Aria's safe house…

The Alpha vorcha shielded his eyes and hissed from his perch atop a ruined structure as the top of the big building bloomed into a red orange flower of fire and concussive force, obliterating the vorcha close enough to it's radius while sending those a bit further off flying like ragdolls into the horde that crowded around the big building, along with rubble and debris that crushed those unfortunate enough to be standing where they landed.

"I told you we should have just blasted our way in!" A vorcha hissed as he got up, prompting the Alpha to swat him aside with a backhand, sending the lesser vorcha's lower jaw flying..

"Silence!" he roared, and for a moment, that was all there was, before the grumblings started anew. The Alpha looked around as the dust cleared at the aftermath of the explosion. The big building was now nothing more than a skeletal framework of flaming ruins, making it blend with the rest of the scenery of No Man's Land. Huge piles of fiery twisted metal and debris stood like islands in a sea of vorcha, who were gathering themselves up from the blast. It would seem that the prospect of good meat had gathered a good number of them. There were a couple thousand vorcha here at least, maybe even more. Truth be told, the blast did little to damage their overall numbers. Like kindling an already burning fire however, the explosion only rallied them into a berserk frenzy. All around him, he could hear the shrill chatter of disgruntled vorcha.

"Ugh, my face feels crispy…"

"Forget your face! What about the meat?!"

"Yes-yes! The meat!"

"Meat went boom!"

"WHAT!?"

"Meat! No! This is your fault!"

"My fault?! How do we know it isn't your fault!?"

"Maybe it's both your faults!"

"I won't leave here until I get meat!"

The bickering started to spread like wildfire. Fangs were bared and trigger fingers were itchy. The Alpha hissed in annoyance; he needed to take control before the in-fighting ensued. His eye caught a vorcha wearing a large, ungainly, jangling back pack with antennae poking out of the top of it. "Hey, you!" He called out. "C'mere! Your comm working?"

The comm vorcha hurriedly made it to his side, turning around to present the ad-hoc comm interface on its back to the Alpha. "Here you go, boss. It's already linked up." He said.

The Alpha grunted his appreciation and ran his hand over the static-laced holo-interface. These communicators were scavenged from the ruined vehicles across the sector, and though they were literally falling apart at the seams, were invaluable in maintaining good communication amongst the vorcha. And by good communication, what that really meant was that it made it easier for alphas to bark out their orders to the rest of the horde and at the same time reminding everybody of their dominance. With a push of a button, the Alpha's voice would now be transmitted to the packs of other comm vorcha's interspersed amongst the thousands of vorcha gathered here. "Listen up, you runts!" He growled, his voice resonating across the horde. "Forget the meat! We have plenty of that from our dead!"

A resounding groan echoed through the horde, with hints of more inflammatory remarks muttered beneath it. Everybody was looking forward to at least a mouthful of something different for a change.

Contrary to how it looked, a vorcha didn't become an alpha due to sheer brutality. Strength was nothing if one didn't have the necessary cunning to take control of such a horde. This was probably for the best; the Alpha knew that there probably wasn't going to be enough meat to go around for a couple of thousands of vorcha, and vorcha don't share very well. Being able to understand a concept like that without it having to be explained to him was one of the reasons why he was the Alpha. "But there might be something else worthwhile that was in that big building!" He said, not unlike a stern father appeasing a spoiled child. "All of you start picking through it for salvage! Those that bring me the shiniest bits will get a reward!" What was that reward going to be? He hadn't a clue, but he figured the opportunity to keep living would be a very good one. "And anyone else who thinks differently might just end up on the menu, too."

Regardless, a cheer started to rise from different patches in the mass of vorcha. Before long, the entire horde was rumbling with cheers and roars, waving their weapons in the air. The in-fighting abated, the vorcha started to make their way towards the ruined building, still flooded with plumes of dust and smoke.

The Alpha scowled, but he shook off the disappointment. He might not have good meat, but the scrap here could empower his horde and give him some shiny bits at the very least. It would only be a matter of time before he would not just be an alpha, but become The Alpha. He had already put dozens of other tribes to heel, their respective alpha's heads stuck on pikes in his lair, locked in the grimace of rigor mortis. He walked up to a huge chunk of debris and hopped on top of it, giving him a good view of his ever growing horde. Yes, he thought as a vicious grin split his face; it would only be a matter of time before his grip extended past these dead ruins and into fresher pastures.

The vorcha swarmed over the ruin like ants, pushing over fallen beams, digging through debris and crowding around still sparking consoles and other viable pieces of scrap. What they thought was the lowest floor of the building was somehow spared the brunt of the explosion, its surfaces not blackened by the heat of the flames that blossomed not too long ago.

A particular group of vorcha was busy trying to move a huge cross of metal beams, intent on finding out what was behind it. With a mighty heave, the beams relented, only to end up crushing half of the movers into pulp underneath its weight as it fell over them.

"Oops." One of the surviving vorcha said. At the very least, they could pick through the meat of the dead. As it was thinking this, a peculiar stench wafted through its nostrils. "Eh?" It was a sweet smell that made his mouth water.

They all turned to see that there was an opening hidden behind the beams that they had just cleared. It was a staircase, shaken by the blast but otherwise still in one piece. And they could smell something coming from beneath.

One of the vorcha took a deep sniff, a cruel smile twisting its way to its face as he drew his gun. "Do you smell what I smell?" he asked his companions.

The others were already brandishing their weapons dangerously, a nervous excitement creeping up on all of them. "Yes-yes! Smells like M-!"

"Shhh!" Another one said, hushing up his companion. "Quiet! We take a look for ourselves first! Would be a shame if we didn't get our rightful cut as the finders…"

"I like that idea…" hissed the first vorcha. "Yes-yes, finders' keepers…"

They all shared a greedy smile, and after making sure nobody else had noticed their little plan, they made their way through the opening, descending into the stair case. Their mouths watered and their stomachs growled, excited at the prospect of fresh meat.

They descended the stairs in frenzy; practically pushing past each other in their eagerness to reach the source of the sweet smell before the others could. The small pack of vorcha rounded the corner and followed the trail towards the next floor.

"MEAT!" one of them shrieked as they exited the stairwell into the source of the smell, spilling into the garage bay, just a split second before they were shredded to bits by a storm of gunfire.

Up above, countless heads shifted towards the direction of the gunfire as the Alpha hefted his sword on his shoulders, throwing his head back in a mad cackle. That was gunfire, and when there was gunfire, there was fighting. And when there was fighting, there was most certainly meat. "Looks like dinner is still on, you runts!" he roared, making his way towards the opening that led to the stairwell, slashing and shoving a path through those that were unfortunate enough to be standing in his way. "Get in order! No pushing and shoving, we have a system here!" he announced, pointing his jagged blade towards the sky. "I said stop!" His voice didn't need to be carried by the comms to have his message sent clearly through the horde.

"Festus! You and your gang have been serving me well lately; you have the honor of first blood!"

The ground shook as thousands of clawed feet charged into the opening, pushing, clawing and shoving their way through as the Alpha practically cut a swathe through them to make his own bloody path to the head of the charge.

Only one thing coursed through their collective minds at this point.

Meat.

Shepard looked down the smoking barrel of his gun as the small group of vorcha that ran out of the stairwell fell in a bloody heap of shredded gore. Before he could say anything, a piercing cacophony of shrieks came from the opening, resonating from up above. "Well, that doesn't sound good..." He mused as the ceiling continued to shake, as if an earthquake wracked the station.

Garrus scoffed. "Well that's six of them down." He observed dryly as he glanced overhead towards the ceiling. "Lively bunch, aren't they?"

"True, but we have superior position." Shepard replied. "They'll have to funnel through the stairwell first to get to us."

"Ever the optimist, eh?"

Shepard shrugged. "Somebody has to be when they hang around somebody as negative as you, Garrus." He said, causing Kasumi to snicker behind them.

"Please." Garrus dismissed, rolling his eyes at Kasumi. "I prefer the term realist." His voice took a serious tone. "There's less than a hundred meters between us and that opening. If these things get within melee range of us, we're done for, Shepard. Besides, blood looks unbecoming on my armor."

"Blood on your armor wouldn't be the first thing to attract discerning stares with a face like that." Shepard quipped, with Garrus giving him a wry grin in reply.

Aria just shook her head, rolling her eyes as the pair went on. "Again with the banter? Do these two ever take anything seriously?" she asked out loud to nobody in particular.

Kasumi grinned. "Not really, but these two saved the galaxy twice." She said. "You can't argue with results, no matter how questionable they may seem."

Aria sneered. "I wasn't asking you."

Kasumi raised an eyebrow at that, trying her hardest not to openly scowl. The other woman had been hostile to her thus far, and though she could imagine why, it was still uncalled for. "Tell me, what'd I do to piss you off so much?"

"It's a growing list. The more you talk, the more there is."

"Ooh, scary." Kasumi retorted.

"Scary? Child, you don't know the meaning of the word."

Shepard just rolled his eyes as the two women traded barbed insults and snide remarks. "Save it for the vorcha, ladies." he said out loud, trying to diffuse the situation between them, only to be ignored. "And for the record, I'm taking this very seriously, Aria." Aria and Kasumi must have really gotten off on the wrong foot, he thought. For all intents and purposes, it was Miranda and Jack all over again. He did not need this on top of everything else on his plate right now.

Garrus must have been thinking the same thing as an amused grin was plastered on his face, wisely hidden behind his assault rifle as he stared down its sights. The only thing that could get two women to stop glaring at one another was when they glared at an offending male. That was when Miranda sauntered over, a grim expression on her face.

"Shepard, much as I like the idea of getting into a good, hopeless fight as of late, we might want to detonate that stairwell and seal it off to give us some time to figure out our predicament." Miranda said.

"Negative, Miranda." Shepard replied. "Vorcha are straight forward. If they see a single opening, they'll pile right through it. But if we seal off the only opening, they'll start looking for other ways to get to us. They'll come in through the vents and the maintenance ducts, might even try cutting through the ceiling and fall right on top of us." He explained. "I'd rather they come in through one direction than have them swarming all over us through many."

Aria paused from glaring at Kasumi to add in. "That and we might risk detonating the failsafe explosives I have lined all across this level." She said, resuming her ministrations to the other woman, who seemed indignant that she would be ignored if only for a moment.

"I see." Miranda conceded succinctly, completely unaware of the feminine tension happening in the background that Shepard hoped wouldn't escalate past glaring. But Miranda Lawson wasn't the kind of woman to let something like conceding her point stop her from at least getting a few more hits in. "Be that as it may, and as reassuring it is to know that the very room is liable to blow up on us, its logistically impossible to outlast an assault of this scale, Shepard. And the even the vorcha will eventually figure out that they can overrun us through other points of entry given enough time. She insisted. "We need a way out."

"Already working on one." Shepard replied as he saw the other members of his squad plus Feron approach them. "Gather 'round people, I have a plan."

Miranda inhaled sharply. "Let's get to it, then."

There was no time to exchange pleasantries as the group huddled together. Kasumi joined in, with Aria laying out a holo schematic of her safehouse and the nearby surroundings. Shepard was pointing out locations as he explained the details of his plan. "Alright, there's a maintenance tunnel that leads out into the exterior of this level right here." He said, pointing to a spot on the map. All the while, the drumming of thousands of boots above them resonated ominously through the air, mixing with the shrieks of bloody murder. Not to mention that… thick scent of oily rancidness that hung in the air. If they couldn't hear the vorcha or feel the tremors of their movement, they damn well could smell them. It painted a very dire picture in his head, but Shepard ignored it all and pressed on. "A small team composed of Kasumi, Thane and Legion will make their way through this shaft and towards the exterior." He said, turning to look at each of them. "Your mission is simple; clearing out whatever is jamming the gates from opening."

Thane nodded sagely, clasping his hands behind his back. "And failing that?"

"You'll be our advanced recon; path finders." Shepard said. "Worst case scenario: we abandon the vehicles and make the rest of the way on foot."

Feron scratched his chin sagely, looking over the holo map. "I'll also send three of my men with you." He began. "Numbers could mean the difference to success, and you couldn't ask for better stalkers and saboteurs. Not outside of the Drell, anyway."

Thane nodded in appreciation, "My thanks."

"Um, why not just abandon the vehicles now, then?" Kasumi suggested. "And while we're at it, let's blow this place up behind us?"

Zaeed scoffed as he hefted his LMG. "Think about it, dove. Miles of open country between us and the station proper, you want to be caught on foot in the open with a horde of vorcha bearing down on you?" he said, managing not to sound like he was talking down on her. Just barely. "Besides, if the explosive yield of this level's failsafe is anything like the first one, we won't be slowing them down for long…"

Kasumi cleared her throat. "Still, you're going to be facing a literal tsunami of vorcha; you'll be overrun faster than we can clear a way."

Grunt scoffed. "Not necessarily. Vorcha are highly hierarchal, what's the point of overrunning us if there's not much left of us to go around afterwards?" he said, speaking from centuries of virtual experience. "They're going to come in in waves; they'll send grunts first so they can gauge our strength and wear us down. Then they'll send in the real heavy hitters to finish the job. If the grunts take us down before all of that, then the alphas will just bully the spoils from them."

Garrus' mandibles twitched thoughtfully. "So you're saying that this is actually doable? We can hold off an entire horde because they are coming at us piecemeal?"

"I'm saying it gives us a chance and a few more minutes for Kasumi and them to figure out how to open that gate." Grunt replied, indicating Kasumi, Thane and Legion. "Don't take vorcha lightly; a few at a time is one thing, but en masse they're voracious. Besides, before long it would be just like what Miranda said, while we're busy dealing with them up front, they'd have found a way to get to us from behind."

Kasumi nodded as she looked over the schematic, picking through pathways to traverse. "Noted…" She said, "Grunt, any more tips and tricks in that noggin of yours that would give us an edge?"

"Just remember: body shots will do you no good, it'll take way too much good ammo to put a vorcha down like that; go for the head, quick and dirty. Can't regenerate splattered brains. And if you're a crap shot, inferno rounds and fire are your best friends." Grunt continued. "Also, go for anybody barking out orders first. Any semblance of combat discipline among the rest will soon follow."

With that, Shepard spent the rest of the meeting assigning firing lanes and organizing defenses. He issued his orders and the group broke off, getting ready to start on their assigned tasks.

Kasumi along with Thane, Legion and the three Shadow Broker agents were walking off to the door that led to the service tunnels outside when Garrus caught up to her.

"Hey, wait up." He said simply as he fell into stride beside her. They both slowed down and allowed the others to go past ahead of them.

"My, my, Mr. Vakarian..." She said in a sing song voice. "You're not the clingy type, are you?" she said casually with a smile. "Are you here to insist on coming with me to protect me from the big, bad vorcha?"

Garrus scoffed. "Hardly." He said, handing her something. "Here…"

"Eh?" Kasumi took the hunting knife from Garrus, practically a short sword in her hands. "This is your knife…" She twirled it in hand, the blade feeling light and well balanced.

"Figured you would need this more than me, what with you diving into the deep end and all." He said, scratching his scar casually. They walked in silence for a bit after that, neither of them speaking, before speaking up simultaneously.

"Garrus, I-"

"Kasumi, I-"

"Umm…" They both managed to say simultaneously again, the silence falling over them once more.

Kasumi sighed as she put the blade away on her back, "I would prefer it if you didn't die today, Garrus."

"Of course." Garrus replied. "But, strangely I may add, the motivation to keep on living depends on you not dying out there, either." He said.

Kasumi smiled at him and picked up her pace, leaving Garrus behind to catch up with her group. When suddenly, she stopped in her tracks to turn around and face him again. "Dancing." She said.

"Eh?"

"I've decided that when this is all over, you will take me out dancing."

"Dancing." Garrus said flatly, before shaking his head and breaking out into a small smirk. "Alright, it's a date then."

Shepard let out a sigh as he checked his rifle. For it to jam in this fight could mean the difference between life and death. And last time he checked, he very much enjoyed living.

"How do you manage to do it?" Tali said from her perch on the turret atop the APC beside him, knocking him back into reality.

"Hmm? Manage what, Tali?" He replied, shifting the rifle from stand-by to assault mode, then back again.

"Be in the center of all… whatever this is." She said. "The Geth, the Reapers, Cerberus, and now an ancient Cult surrounding some other cosmic, eldritch horror out there in the galaxy. What are the odds of the same man being mired in the middle of it?"

"You tell me, you've been with me every step of the way." Shepard said, smiling.

"Yes, but I think you're the main character of this certain story." She said. "A galaxy spanning epic that would be told for generations to come. Of course the 'generations to come' part relies solely on you not mucking it up."

Shepard found himself laughing at that. It seemed like ages since he last laughed. "Which is why I brought you along; you're the only thing standing between me and mucking this up royally." He said. "And you're my girlfriend, giving you main character status by proxy."

"Oh please. I have enough presence to warrant my own spin-off without your hand-me-down fame." She retorted. "Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, savior of the quarian race."

"I'd certainly love to read that story."

"Well that all depends on you getting us through your story then." She said, and by the tone of her voice, Shepard could tell she was smiling. "Of course, with me here, how could you lose?"

"Haven't the foggiest idea." Shepard said donning his skull-faced helmet. As if on cue, the chilling sound of a thousand vorcha shrieking resonated through the air. "Ready, savior of the quarian race?"

Tali smirked as she manned the heavy machine gun. "Always, savior of the known galaxy."