A/N: A slightly longer chapter this time, so I'll try to keep this note shorter.
A special thanks to DN7. First, for letting me throw in a cameo from his story The Unsung Hero, which is a kickass crossover. And second, he helped me a whole bunch with editing this chapter and the next, and I'll go ahead and say it's some of my most polished work on FF. Thanks again, dude.
Enjoy the read.
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Chapter XXXVII: The Roots of Madness
SAM – Arm of Justice
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"Jarka, we still look clear from that end?" I asked as I glanced both ways down another street intersection. Seemed like we had been walking for a while. The Ortona was far out of visual range, hidden behind ruins and rubble.
"Affirmative, Commander." The pilot replied. "No air traffic."
"I have detected no movement within a hundred meters of your armor." Maya added
"Delina?" I asked, glancing up at a tower to our left and seeing no sign of the sniper or the vanguard.
"Looks good from up here. Keep taking your sweet time."
"Can do." I shot right back as my eyes fell back to the street ahead. Hell, all of us were armed up still. My finger rested on the trigger guard of the Model 687 rifle as I stepped over a fallen lamppost and then hopped up onto the roof of a crashed hovercar. Didn't seem like anyone had been there on those Zavalon streets since the war. I kicked dust from the metal roof, leaving behind an imprint of my boot before I hopped down.
"Two by two..." Torr started to mutter, shook his head violently, then continued, "Two by two the blades flash true. Arh, what am I saying? It's not here, not in this hollow city where the noise rips on our ears in utter absence."
"What?" Viola asked. "What isn't here?"
"I don't know." The Vorcha growled. "It's not here."
Viola and I exchanged glances and said nothing more. We continued on in silence.
"Forrest..." The ex-Contractor Asari began quietly, "Do you think there's any chance Jakur and Sam are still alive?"
"It's been six weeks." I shook my head. "Why no threats, no ransoms? The more I see, the less similarities there are between the two Contractors."
"Those two – the Human and the Batarian – They were close, weren't they?"
"Sounded like they ended up that way. Why?"
Viola stared ahead for several moments. "I'm worried that the Contractor would use that against them both."
I didn't say anything. Hell, I felt responsible and I could find no way to mitigate the nagging fear that the worst had come to pass for those two teammates.
We kept walking.
"Forrest, hold up!" Delina hissed over the radio. I relayed the signal to the two Lancers with me on the ground and we waited as Delina continued. "We got movement on your twelve... Just a little -"
There was the crack of a sniper rifle several stories above our heads, and sending each of us for a bit of a jump as several arcs of electricity burst from the air fifty meters up and a small bit of previously-cloaked metal fell to the deck.
"There we go. Clear."
"What the hell..." I began, moving forward with my rifle shouldered and ready to swing the barrel up. Whatever Delina shot had fallen out of sight, and I didn't much care for that. I peeked over a slab of street that was torn up, scanning for a second before I found something out of place.
A grey-and-red sphere. Still wobbling about a bit, but down for the count. I kicked it from as far back as I could, in case it was rigged, but it only rolled away and in a poorly-modulated voice reported: "Error. Equipment damage. Error. Equi-"
Well, I had about enough of that, shoving my rifle barrel into what appeared to be a camera port and pulling the trigger. Another burst of sparks as the single round tore through the housing, but it worked. Damn thing shut up. I shook my head as I returned the Model 687 to an idle stance, staring at the orb for another moment. "Looks like a drone."
"Surveillance, at that." Viola agreed, kneeling and taking a closer look.
Torr was staying on the other side of the street.
"You know about these?"
"No." The ex-Contractor shook her head. "This appears to be a prototype."
"I don't think it spotted you." Delina commented. "Pretty piss-poor recon."
Viola was checking it with her omni-tool. "It hasn't sent a report in the last fifteen minutes."
"Alright. Then let's keep moving and hope nobody noticed." I nodded and set forward again. I hoped I was right, but the luck we had... things didn't look very good. I glanced back at Viola. "The Contractor did a pretty good job of only giving you the info you needed and nothing extra."
"He was far too good at it." The Asari snorted. "The only identity I would recognize is the visualized audio line."
"Do we even know it's a 'he?'"
"That's an assumption we've all made." Viola replied, shifting her grip on her bullpup rifle. "Until we meet the Contractor face-to-face, there's no way to know."
"The last one did a damn fine job of hiding away till the end."
"Yet you still killed him."
"Yeah..." I admittedly begrudgingly. Even at the time it hadn't been a clear cut victory. Azarith was calling and Sovereign was knocking down the relay. I froze mid-stride as I heard something that didn't belong.
A metal scream.
It seemed distant, but I knew all too well what it was.
"What the hell was that?" Delina snapped over the radio.
"I think we both know what it was." I replied, grip tightening on my rifle. Suddenly seemed like I should have brought more EMP grenades.
There was a responding scream from a slightly different direction. Calling in the horde.
"Well fuck..." I shook my head. "Keep moving up, but be ready to give 'em hell."
I was the first to start forward, sliding over a crashed hovercar and continuing on between two more before I had to duck under a lamp post. Torr leapt onto the roofs of the crashed vehicles and traversed that way, while Viola moved out and around the side and then caught up. Every few steps I would pause, listen and look for movement. Each time there was nothing, and each time I would continue onward. We were reaching a section of street that was surprisingly clear of obstruction.
"Dammit, Forrest..." Delina seemed to be having less of a good time. "This building – the bridge is caved in. We're gonna be blind until we get back out on the next set of towers. Give me a minute."
"We're fine down here." I shrugged, glancing back at Viola,
She had her rifle raised to her shoulder and was peering down the sights, down the street. "I don't mean to be the one who always hails trouble..."
"But?" I finished for her, glancing down the street and then needing no further explanation.
Five Mark-Twenty-Fives were charging right towards us. They knew exactly where we were, and they were coming at us in a full spring. We were boxed in, too. I knew the Model 678 wasn't going to do me much good, so I swung it onto my back.
"From roots of madness grow the sweetest fruit of violence..." Torr mumbled as he holstered his rifle, staring at his bare hands as danger grew closer. Then he drew two yellow vials. One in each hand, and he stood there trembling as the Mk.25s got within a hundred meters. Then the Vorcha emptied both serums into his wrists, flung the glass aside and raised his hands. Panic across his face as the muscles started to convulse and mutate under his skin, starting at the hands as bones shifted, working up his arms, blowing his entire stature out of proportion as he stumbled forward clutching his head with arms twice their normal size and half as long again. The stream of frantic muttering slowed down, dropped pitch upon pitch as the supermutant transformation took hold. "Sow unto me!"
And with that the Vorcha lumbered forward. Still fast for such a large form, winding up as the first Mk.25 got within striking range. All four metal blades were drawn back when Torr struck, driving his fist into the machine's chest and sending it crashing into the deck fifty meters back. The rest scattered in their attack, took to flanking.
The closest to Viola was soon locked down in a stasis field, and I was charging forward on my skates as a blade formed around my right arm. I slammed into the stationary battle platform with all my weight driving the holographic blade into its eyeport, breaking it from stasis as I knocked it back in a lifeless heap. Then I had to wring my hand out. A little too much force behind that swing.
"Hey!" Delina yelled over the radio. "What the fuck is going on down there?"
Meanwhile, Torr was in between two more Contractor machines. Both were circling the supermutant form, knowing better to attack while the Vorcha rambled on in a voice lower than the Contractor's. "Creating carnage and causing chaos to capture cross criminals, crushing crippling cartilage curing cursed carrion carrying cumbersome calfskin corsets..."
One Mk.25 tried to leap back as Torr sprang forward. For all the cybernetics, it was still too slow. Torr seized its head, weaving his fingers together as he viced down on the metal form. The machine went into a panicked overload, slicing out with all four blades and no effect. Torr snarled as he made a final crush. The armor cracked, the networks underneath destroyed, shorted, overloaded. There was a limp pile of blades left to collapse as Torr backed away.
As much as I wanted to watch the continuing debacle, there were two Mk.25s coming after me. Well, me and Viola. The Asari managed to lock one down, but there was still one left. And it was coming right at me with all four blades drawn back. Crap. I sidestepped as it lashed out, deflecting two blades with my left, then driving my right into its shoulder joint. Might have disabled one of its upper arms. I didn't have time to dally as it swung with the other two. I hopped out of range.
Viola was nearly to the stasis-trapped Mk.25 with her dagger drawn. The three-armed machine was coming after me yet, one of its arms dangling limp. Didn't even seem mad. I hoped my blades still had enough charge as I lunged forward trying to deflect its two functioning right arms and dodge its left. I got in real close, taking out its second left blade at the base and then jabbing in the eyeport once, then again to be sure. Then my blades gave out. I was holding the two metal blades away with my forearm, hoping to hell that my plating held next.
The machine slumped. About the same time, Viola was shoving the fourth Mk.25 off of her dagger, sending the machine back while she stood in place. No blood on the dagger as it came out of the eyeport. On the other side, Torr had pinned down the last of the Mk.25s, completely caving its head into the street with supermutant blows. It was well dead, but he was still going, punch after punch tearing into the metal. Each time his fist would draw back bloody and regenerate before the next blow. Then he paused with his arm cocked back, sprung up from the Mk.25 as he clutched the sides of his head and whispering nonsense. The transformation began to loosen its hold, a god-awful sound as bones fused together in their usual shape and his regular Vorcha form began to emerge. In a matter of seconds, the Torr I recognized was sitting there on the deck, head bowed and whimpering.
"Shit – you alright down there?" Delina yelled from a third-story window, Riva's surprised face sticking out of the shadows right behind.
"Oh yeah. We're great!" I replied half sarcastically as I gave her a big thumbs up, then I looked back over my shoulder. "Torr, you alright?"
"Fine..." The psycho acknowledged as he stumbled to his feet. "For all the pain and noise, I'm fine."
Viola nodded as I looked to her. Didn't have to say a word between the two of us. She forced a small smile to indicate she too was fine.
"Well... best we don't wait around. Everyone good to keep moving?"
"Waiting on you." Delina shrugged.
"Affirmative." Riva agreed, still right behind the arms specialist.
Torr shook himself off one last time and drew his rifle. "Right rip ready."
Viola was off a bit, kneeling by one of the Mk.15s, prying its metal mask off and then pausing. She was staring right at the face scarred by cybernetics, both expressions blank. So the ex-Contractor sat there unmoving and slowly setting the armor mask to the side.
"Viola?" I asked. Didn't expect to see her slowed up.
"I... I recognize her."
I had to look over her shoulder, at a human girl. All torn up with cybernetics.
"She was a cook on our ship."
"Guess that didn't work out..." I growled, ever-present resentment towards the Contractor surfacing.
"For one reason or another..." Viola stood up, looked me right in the eyes. "I won't dwell on it. Ready to move."
I grunted in acknowledgment and then started out, walking right down the middle of the street and leaving the Mk.25 corpses behind. Nothing we could do for the dead and defiled anyway. Past maybe giving them a final rest. I wondered, with the violent indoctrination and neural circuitry, how much was really left to rest and how much was simply deactivated like any other machine.
To our left and up, Delina scrambled up a half-broken bridge between buildings that sagged and whined as she passed the middle. Then she disappeared into the complex on the other side. Riva hung back at the first tower, about to make a rush across but thinking twice as the bridge creaked again. The young T'Lan braced herself, pulled her shoulders back and let her biotics flare. Then she vanished. Nothing left but a few dissipating wisps of dark energy.
I figured to look at the other side of the bridge, and already her biotics were cooling down. An instant movement. No corridor, nothing. One point to another.
Viola must have been watching as well. "That is a unique method of charging. There aren't many Vanguards left after the war, let alone any with that style. Do you know how she learned?"
"I tried teaching her a normal charge, and she ended up doing that right away." I shrugged. "So I'm not sure."
"With more biotic control, she could be exceptionally devastating at close range. Controlled detonation rather than the impact associated with charging." Viola paused, looked back ahead. "Hopefully she has more preservation than you do."
"I'm still alive."
"But only on the accord that TIER revived you."
"Yeah, but.." I began to protest and then realized I had no ground to stand upon.
"Forrest, I only ask that you don't die again. TIER is gone."
"Now you're worrying about me?" I raised my eyebrow at her.
"Yes. I am. Lots of people are relying on you now. Myself included."
"Har." Torr scoffed. "More to it than that, Asari."
We fell into silence after that, reaching the end of the clear part of the street and forced to clamor over a whole heap of wrecked hovercars. Most were stable, slammed into place, but at least one was precariously balanced as I stepped onto it and quickly moved to better ground.
We were also coming to a hill. The street rose under the hovercars, blocking the view ahead. I kept climbing, figured it wouldn't be that bad. The last several meters were a scramble, steep enough to where I had to pull myself onto the side of the car, using the window as a hold. Then I stood up.
So was the reason for the hill evident then, as an unmarked freighter had crashed into the street and rippled the surface back, raking up hovercars as it went, and leaving a nice wall twenty meters from where I stood. "Well...crap."
Torr was huffing as he made it the top of the hovercars as well, then sat down on his haunches and stared at the wall.
I shook my head and started to balance out along the narrow edge of one car, then leap to the roof of the next. They were like big boulders. Reminded me of earth. "Delina, we're gonna have to detour over by you."
The arms specialist didn't even respond on her radio. She was peering out a broken window, still a story above us. "You wimp. Get up there and climb that thing."
I glanced back at the upright section of freighter blocking our path. Not a single hold on the entire wall, not including the hairline cracks between armor sections. Fat chance. I scoffed, flipped Delina off, and kept walking. There was even a hole in the wall, just above a hovercar, where I could slip in. So I did.
Heaving myself up and sort of falling into the building kicked up a bit of dust as I hit the floor on my feet. Used to be a hallway alongside the outside of the building, real nice windows and all, until the freighter came along and wrecked all that. I drew the battle rifle once more and moved along the hallway. Viola was the next to move into the building, vaulting in, landing and then pausing. Her eyes had to adjust to the darkness. I looked back down the dusty hallway, realizing the only light was from hairline cracks. My cybernetic eyes had adjusted immediately.
Torr was the last in, sword drawn and muttering as he spun around and looked both ways. Thankfully Viola had already moved up and was well out of range of the wild-swung blade. I nodded at both before moving out.
A hundred meters ahead, there was light pouring in and marking the visible end of the hallway. Maybe it went past that, but there was no way to tell until we got closer.
Fifty meters up, I could see the outline of something lying against the wall, slumped there lifelessly. Well, my grip on the rifle tightened as I moved up. Being how everything we'd run into thus far had tried to kill us, I assumed no different this round. Rifle against my shoulder, sighted in, I got close enough to see what it was.
A Mk.25.
A deactivated Mk.25. Deactivated in the sense that all of its joints were charred, eyes burnt out. Overloaded, then shot repeatedly with some sort of sort of shotgun. No way to tell from the pattern alone, but it looked like the machine had gotten its fill of shavings in a very short period of time. The neck was blasted away, clear down to the bone circuitry. Someone had done a damn good job dispatching the machine.
I raised my rifle towards the light ahead and started forward slow and ready to unleash hell on anything that came my way.
Nothing as I stepped into the light, squinting as I looked upwards. The sky was starting to break, if only slightly. We were in a small patch of sun, a small section of the building that had been blasted out. From the second story, I could see the chopped layers of the three stories above us, but no sign of hostiles as I holstered my rifle and started to climb up the pile. Climb up the four-meter wide scar in the building, first on rubble and then switching to an exposed vertical I-beam. I shimmied up to the fourth story real quick, Viola and Torr following with less enthusiasm.
"Oh for fuck's sake..." Delina exasperated from across the gap, glaring at me and throwing her left hand up (still had her sniper rifle in her right).
Riva was right behind the arms specialist, already a hand over her mouth as she tried to contain a grin by staring at the floor. Then the young T'Lan stepped to the side and pulled her shoulders back. In a collapsing flash of biotics she vanished, only phase across the gap and instantly reemerge and stumble forward a step next to me.
The arms specialist still on the side huffed and started to climb down.
I looked over at Riva and nodded. "You getting by alright?"
"Quite well." The Vanguard agreed, then lowered her voice to make sure only I could hear. "She gets quite...chatty."
"Yeah. That happens." I chuckled, glancing over the edge to make sure everyone was still moving along. Five of us in total. I slapped Riva on the shoulder and then I started off, scrambling up the last bit of debris to the fifth floor. Seemed like most everyone else stayed on the fourth floor.
So I moved up through, best I could tell, what used to be an office. Longer rooms with small doors on each end. Pushed through one half-broken door only to be in another room exactly the same, twenty meters long and maybe five wide. The contents were in shambles, and I couldn't tell cubicle walls from sections of roof caved in but I was able to pick a route through.
I froze as I saw a small patch of dust illuminated by a hole in the roof. A boot track off to the edge, aiming the same direction as I was going. Looked like from armor, maybe Human or Asari. Big, though. Didn't look like the tread on commando leathers, either. I had crouched to take a closer look, and when I rose I activated my cloak and avoided setting another track in the light. The door ahead looked to lead out to some sort of balcony.
Easing through, trying to keep as quiet as possible, I scanned the cityscape ahead. A lower section of streets lay ahead, maybe twenty meters below the elevation we had left behind. Open, exposed. Buildings formed a loose U around the lower area, and right in the middle of the depression was a building. More the size of a shack. Looked like a terminal, maybe a cargo elevator to a network closer to the swamp below. In front of that, though... I couldn't quite tell what I was looking at as I eased forward onto a broken section of balcony. It was grey and red, almost looked like a person kneeling. We were too far away for the scale to be right.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a glimmer in the air to my right. Someone in cloak. Moving as little as possible, I drew my MR13 with my left hand and eased the barrel up as I rotated my head. The vague irregularities in the air were the only indicators of danger, but knowing someone else had taken out a Mk.25 kept me from pulling the trigger.
We both uncloaked.
Two meters away, crouching on the same broken balcony, and wielding a magnum pistol right back at me, was another armored human. Straightaway I could tell he wasn't Contractor – the black armor with the Shadow Broker logo on the chest rather gave that one up – but nor did I recognize the rest of the armor. Far from standard issue. Grey weave structure that color-matched the city ruins, and lighter armor plates. Almost looked like synthetic muscle, but with greater protective ability. A helmet with a single lens eyeport. The armor itself seemed heavy even on his larger frame. "I'm guessing you're part of the Lancers?"
"Yeah. You must be the agent, eh?"
As a mutual agreement, we both nodded and lowered and then holstered our pistols. He then extended his right hand. A sturdy grip as we shook hands. "The name's Ryan Mitchell."
"Forrest Jackson."
"Operations commander for the Lancers, right? I got a glimpse at your file when we were trying to find someone for the job."
"What, pissing the Contractor off?" I snorted. "We got that covered."
"Yeah, looked that way." He paused, glanced around. "You brought a squad, I hope?"
"Five in total. You?"
"Running solo. Recon, remember?"
"Yeah... were you the one who took out the Mk.25 back there?"
"You know it. EMP grenade then a few shots to the neck."
I had to glance over at what he was carrying for a shotgun. Didn't recognize the model. Black, bulky.
"So." The broker agent continued. "Did they give you a sitrep at the docks?"
"Details were pretty vague." I admitted. "Didn't even get a name before we headed out."
"Well, it's not very often we contract outside help." He explained. "Not very many other black ops still alive and willing to head back to the field. Even fewer Alliance."
"TIER." I acknowledged, starting to realize how much the Shadow broker knew. Viola had been right when she said we were good business. Seeing as I wasn't in immediate danger, I keyed my radio to the rest of the squad. "We've got our contact. Hold up until we scope out some more." I then looked back to the agent. "So, the Contractor hasn't come after your crew yet?"
"Not yet. We've intentionally avoided dealings with his forces, hiring bandits to sabotage info drops and really anything it takes to keep him at arms distance." Mitchell shook his head. "He's bad business, if that's what you're worried about. The Broker wants to see him go down – maybe not as much as your Lancers, but there's still investment."
"One of the troopers back on your dock mentioned us keeping some of the heat off of the Broker."
"You've been doing that already. He's fixated on your Lancers and any allied mercs. For the time being, the Broker appears to be on the sideline."
"Right." I nodded, somewhat encouraged. "And for now we've got this base."
"Did you bring any heavy infantry?" Mitchell asked.
"Just small arms. Why?"
"Well, first order of business is regrouping, but we need to think about getting past that thing." He pointed towards the kneeling figure in front of the base entrance. I had forgotten all about that, and as I looked again I could make out more detail. Kneeling, yes. Humanoid, yes. Also massive and made of metal.
A Behemoth.
I scowled under my faceplate, remembering that the only time we'd gone up against one and taken it down, we had thirty troops plus Tierna and her rocket troopers and we still just barely pulled it off. Now there were only six of us, and we seemed to be lacking any real way to wreck the colossal machine. I shook my head and looked back to the Shadow Broker agent. "Alright, well.. any idea what we're dealing with past that?"
"The Contractor does a good job of keeping his dealings buttoned up. Even on the ground we're short info past this being a supply drop. Things are extra challenging since we can't get in close."
"So… no way to deal with this little problem?" I pointed to the Behemoth.
"So far nothing. Only one way in to this gig, and a full frontal attack wouldn't be the best. Even with your full team here."
I paused as my radio blared to life with the soothing sound of Delina's voice. "Hey, what the fuck is that thing out there? Those are Contractor colors, huh?"
"Delina, don't -"
I was cut off as a sniper rifle went off two stories below. A second later, as the sound traveled back, there was the distinctive ting of an accelerated shaving bouncing off of metal.
"- shoot." I finished, crouched there and wincing as I watched the Behemoth rise and begin lumbering towards us. The damn thing knew right where its targets were.
"This is going to get real interesting..." Ryan commented. "Now we don't even have stealth to our advantage."
"Yeah... We'd better regroup fast."
It was then, as we both stood, that Mitchell was even taller than me. By a few inches, anyway. Between that and the heavy armor, he looked plenty stout. "I'll let you get your team in position first, then you bet."
So we moved out, starting forward and dropping off to the level below, then one more time jumping down to land next to Torr, Riva, and Viola. None of them even jumped as I stood up. Riva looked over uncomfortably as Mitchell rose two meters away.
"We made it this far." I half-joked, then pointed a thumb over at the agent. "Team, this is Ryan Mitchell."
A few nods were exchanged. Might have been more if the Behemoth wasn't wandering towards us. Torr muttered something and poked at the floor with the point of his sword.
"Viola, Riva, and Torr." I explained. Maya was prepping my Assassin armor as we were idle. "Two more close-range fighters and biotic support. Then there's Delina. The sniper who pissed off the Behemoth."
"Thanks for that, by the way." Mitchell glanced over our ragtag unit. "From what dossiers we could pull, this is quite the squad."
"Fancy armor still smells like blood." Torr mumbled.
"So…" I started, rubbing my hands together. "General plan: take down the Behemoth."
Mitchell nodded. "I've got EMP grenades and a rifle, so I'll keep its systems down. Then it's up to your team to deal the damage."
"Works for me." Viola agreed.
"Ready." Riva replied, fists clenched by her sides.
Torr went back to poking at the ground with his sword, and Delina was silent – usually a good sign.
"I'll get into cover." Mitchell then ducked out under some more debris, leaving the four of us standing there on the wrecked floor overlooking the fight.
"Forrest," Maya chimed in my ear to where only I could hear. "I ran initial scans on Mitchell while you were in close proximity. His armor hardware signatures do not match any Council-race production, and have synthetic muscle reinforcements throughout. Thankfully, I found none of the usual evidence alluding to Contractor control."
"Noted. Thanks Maya." I nodded in quiet acknowledgement and then looked over to Viola.
"I thought there was only one Behemoth in all of the Contractor's production..." The ex-Contractor shook her head. "This doesn't bode well."
"We got it." I assured. "Torr, Riva, I'll need you both in close. Between the three of us, we'll need to keep it using its fists. Viola, be ready to buff any of us if it uses its lasers. Delina -" I yelled her name as I glanced down at the sniper barrel protruding from the window below, "I hope you still have those thermite grenades."
"You know it."
"Alright... I'm going to need a couple."
"I only have three."
"I only need two."
"Yeah, but that only leaves one."
"I can do the math, sister. I need two."
"Good job." the arms specialist drawled, procuring two grenades as I dropped down outside of her window.
"Cover fire?" I asked as I clipped both to my belt.
She nodded. The other four of us continued down the debris slope to meet the behemoth.
"Bad, bad bad." Torr snarled. "Metal machine with no soul, dead eyes, dead heart spun by electricity."
So there we were, four of us ground troops moving down through the debris to meet a Contractor machine that was five meters tall and wore a crown of spikes. The odds didn't seem very strong in our favor, but at least there were small bits of cover around the stadium, hovercars or trucks crashed here and there. Better than being stuck out in the open like would have happened if we engaged the machine at its post. I flexed my empty hands as I lead our group down. Twenty meters away, I readied for the attack. "Viola keep a little distance. Riva, flank it to the right. Torr, you take the left."
So we each moved out, except for Viola, who ducked down behind a toppled truck and kept a close eye on us as she peered from cover. Torr and Riva both went their own directions, while like the idiot I was, I headed right for the Behemoth. The big metal machine didn't seem worried about the flanking ground troops, bringing its arm back and preparing for a heavy punch. I waited.
At the last second, I hopped sideways, the metal fist smashing into the deck right next to me. About the time I was going to start running up its arm, a rifle-launched grenade hit its torso, a small shockwave sending arcs across the entire chassis. The Shadow Broker agent was able to stun the Behemoth in a single shot, leaving the machine vulnerable. I waited a moment for the electricity to feed off, then I ran forward. Leapt on the extended arm driven into the deck, scrambled to its shoulder and crouched there as I drew both thermite grenades and pulled both pins. Stuck one into the machine's crown and the other into the shoulder where the neck met. About the time I was done with that, the Behemoth started to rise. I made a point to vault off as quick as I could, only dropping three meters and going right into a roll before activating my tech runners and getting several meters away before the grenades went off.
About the time I turned around, two small white flashes emitted as the grenades went off, followed by a rise of smoke from each. That was it. "Delina..." I snarled at the radio, "Did you get us a bunch of dud grenades?"
"I dunno." She replied, helpful as ever.
About then, the Behemoth struck at Torr. The psycho rolled out of the way, then there was a clang, followed by several more clangs, as he tried to cut into it with his sword. Another grenade shot came from the buildings above, another blast that stunned the Behemoth for several seconds.
Torr was still bashing away on its arm, even as it rose again and proceeded to bat him out of the way. Sent the poor Vorcha flying, too. He crashed into a hovercar fifty meters out.
The Behemoth paused, arms by its sides as it looked right at Torr (who was still getting back to his feet). Then the machine announced: "Activating lasers."
"Torr! Get out of there!" I warned, but the Vorcha was only on his knees and looked up at the hostile.
Still no lasers. The war machine seemed frozen, expecting the lasers to fire as well. Nothing.
"Error. Circuitry damage sustained." A pause as it stepped back. "Activating ping attack."
"Clear out!" I was fast on my blades and getting twenty meters away while everyone else scrambled back and took cover. When I figured I was out of EMP range, I turned back.
The Behemoth started to activate the expected attack, crouching and charging capacitors. But when the electrical blast went off... well, it was garbled. What I remembered being a uniform blast was uneven, some parts barely scuffing the deck a meter away. At the same time, the colossal contraption was again electrocuted. There hadn't been another EMP grenade – not that I'd seen.
"Error." The Behemoth growled as it recovered. "Core damaged. Shields offline. Ping attack offline."
That was good news for me. The EMP blast was the only thing that could keep me off of its shoulders. Even as another electrical burst stunned the machine, I started forward on my tech skates, closing back in and then leaping onto the Behemoth's back. There were some real good holds on its armor, and I exploited that best I could as I clamored up, barely getting to its right shoulder before it started to move again.
Turned out the grenades Delina had picked up weren't duds. They had melted through armor, alright, leaving a hole where each had been stuck, smoke still billowing from the innards, likely indicating that they were still going. Unfortunately, I didn't have a whole ton of time to inspect as the Behemoth tried to grab me once. I swung out of the way, switching to its other shoulder as I held onto the crown. Figured if I could just get the armored chestplate off and expose the core, then we'd be golden. So as it tried to grab me with its other hand, I dropped forward, grabbing onto the top edge of the armor plate with my left hand and driving a tech blade through one of the bolts holding it in place. Still time. I switched hand holds, hardly enough time to drive my left blade through the opposite bolt. Right about the time the Behemoth reached to grab me, the plate tore halfway off, dropping me a meter and a half down before I let go and exposed the core.
I hit the deck with a thud and rolled backwards, coming back into punching range as the behemoth lifted both of its arms over head.
No orders were needed. A sniper rifle went off at the same as another rifle grenade, both hitting their mark of the exposed core. The behemoth staggered back as the spinning, glowing core sputtered and came out of balance, grinding and crashing about as it slowed.
"Error: core damaged."
It slumped to its knees, fist still slamming into the deck where I had been a second before. The war machine glared at the deck for several seconds more.
"Core repair in progress."
Well shit. I thought to myself as I lunged forward and drove my right blade into its exposed elbow best I could, hoping to do more damage while we could. About that time Riva phased from her position forty meters away.
The Behemoth was rising to its feet again as the Asari reemerged, landing on the back of its bent knee. She had two biotic blades formed, letting out a scream as she launched a scissor slice at the back of the joint. Looked like she was able to cut right through, sending the Behemoth buckling as her arms came out to the side and she kicked off of the metal leg, landing back on the deck several meters back and dropping to one hand to absorb the fall.
So, as I lured the machine forward, it drug itself along, one leg no longer bearing weight and one hand no longer functioning. But it was still alive. It still paused, then raised itself onto the one good leg and clenched its good fist.
"Look at me when I rip the soul from your chest!" A Vorcha shrieked from right behind me. Torr. When I ducked and glanced around, he had his sword drawn all the way back in one hand, bracing as he stood atop a hovercar. Then he threw it. The arced blade made two rotations before it drove into the power core tip-first, impacting and then instantly shattering as it was drawn in by the rotating core.
I saw as the core was thrown completely off its tracks, leveraged by blade shards, the Behemoth letting out a groan as its arms trembled. It seemed that power cores liked to explode when disturbed, and we were certainly on that track. More and more energy was starting to escape, and about the time it looked like it was going to go off, there was movement beside me.
Viola. The ex-Contractor threw up her hands, projecting a hard barrier to shield me, Torr, and her. Not a moment passed before the core exploded and the blast tore into the biotic protection, each of us shielding our faces instinctively and Viola gritting her teeth as she held out.
Then it was over. The blast subsided. The Behemoth fell to its knees again, and from there fell to the side, a mighty thud reverberating as its mass slammed into the deck.
It was over.
"Well..." I half chuckled as Viola let her barrier drop – certainly I was grinning - "That's that."
The T'Vintha sister nodded, smiling back as she wiped her brow. "That was the most advanced ground-combat platform we had. And now you've killed two."
I nodded in acknowledgment and then called out over the debris and dead Behemoth. "Riva! You alright?"
Sure enough, the young T'Lan rose from behind a truck, dusting off her ill-fitting leathers. "I will live to fight another day!"
"Torr?" I asked, looking at the Vorcha who sat there squatted on the hood of a hover car with his hands draped over his knees.
He nodded but stared at the Behemoth. "Death blows for the harks of crows."
"Hey!" Delina called out as she started to make her way down the slope, rifle still in her hands."What about me? Aren't you gonna check on me, commander?"
I waved her off, knowing full damn well she was fine.
Same went for the Shadow Broker agent as he headed down the slope with a dark green battle rifle in hand. Holstered it over his shoulder as he got closer. "I'm guessing that's not the first time you've had to fight one of those."
We started to regroup, most all of us scattered about. Torr sitting on the car, Riva off scanning the Behemoth, Viola standing by my shoulder, and Delina leaned up against the tailgate of a truck. I shook my head. "No... But the shock support made it go a hell of a lot faster."
"Seeing how your team can work in close proximity... We might be able to take this base by force after all."
I nodded, about to say something in agreement.
"Shadow Broker agent, huh?" Delina wondered out loud as she stood back, actively looking uninterested as she folded her arms. "Doesn't it seem dangerous for you to be out here without reinforcements?"
"Doesn't it seem dangerous to pick a fight with the strongest force in the 'verse right now?" Mitchell shot right back.
Delina nodded, smirking lightly. "Wasn't my idea."
"So, what intel do we have on this base thing?" I asked, tilting my head towards the elevator hatch several hundred meters away.
"Like I said before, not much. Just what you or I can see here. I've been watching this sector for a while, and there's irregular traffic. I doubt it's a hub for Contractor operations on Zavalon. He could be looking for our outpost, but there's no planet-side traffic."
"Right..." I nodded, wincing as I turned and looked at the base entrance. "Viola?"
The Asari walked over so that she didn't have to yell, then explained to Mitchell and me, "Either this is a new installment, or it was kept exceptionally secret. Most Contractor outposts were on a single network, perhaps only slightly removed for security. That was how I located the other base on Zavalon. But this..." She shook her head. "With that said, I know there's been cloaked traffic to and from this location. That would indicate either prisoners or prototype technology."
"The ex-Contractor, huh?"
"I..." Viola started, eyes flitting for a moment, "Yes. I was installed in his ranks for a time."
"Not sure I'd be bringing her on critical missions. Risky." The Shadow Broker agent was looking at me as he shook his head.
Looking Viola right in the eyes, I still wasn't sure if I was right in letting her return. Even if she seemed dedicated now… I had thought that before. Yet there I was, gambling on it again. I turned back to Mitchell. "You ready to move out?"
"You bet. Better get a move on before they have too long to reinforce their position." Mitchell agreed.
So there we were, the six of us shaping into a loose V, me on the lead right, Mitchell on the lead left, and my squad broken up on the two flanks. Lancers, three Asari and the Vorcha. Quite the little entourage.
"So..." I started, trying to get a better idea of who we were dealing with, "You used to be Alliance?"
Mitchell nodded and kept looking straight ahead. "I was Alliance in about the same way you were."
"TIER wasn't exactly Alliance." I pointed out. "Not common knowledge, either."
"Perks of working in close with the Broker." The Agent shrugged. "You know anything about Infiltration Operations?"
"Can't say I have." I even glanced over at Viola, and she shook her head.
"Good. Then we stayed a little quieter than TIER."
Black-ops seemed to be that way. I figured it was best not to ask any more about the program, or specifics on the trick shotgun, battle rifle and SMG. "So that's where the armor came from?
"Aegis armor." He replied without missing a beat. "It was a prototype when the Reapers hit. We managed to salvage the blueprints, then use Broker resources to assemble a few sets."
"Well," I started shook my head and looked back ahead. "Must have been quite the project."
"Yeah, and we had to retrieve the prototype from across Reaper lines. Remind me to tell you that story another time." The agent laughed quietly. "Aegis has stronger shields, and the hard armor alone outclasses Spectre-grade gear."
"Plus it cloaks."
"Along with a few more integrated frame features that I can't tell you unless you want a more... Personal relationship with the Broker, yeah. You got it."
"Maybe when I get the hankering to be involved with more paramilitary groups I'll take you up on that."
"The Broker might be infamous for intel dealings, but we're dealing with a galaxy at large where even status quo can wouldn't hold up on its own. Thanks to that info network, our forces survived the Reaper War at a higher rate than any other group or government."
"Yeah." Delina snorted from the far left flank. "That's cause you fuckers hid out while everyone else fought."
"Where were you?"
"On the other side of the lines. Got a gang together and stuck out on a space station. Ran intel back to the fleets, even sabotaged a few Reapers of our own."
"And how exactly do you think that info about Reaper activity and safe routes got around?"
"I don't fucking care." The arms specialist grumbled. "That info would have been useless without firepower behind it."
"True, but the firepower wouldn't have been there except for scouting intel."
We were about to the elevator rise, and that kept the bickering to a minimum. Didn't seem like too much else could go amiss. We might have to push through a few more ground troopers, but how bad could it be?
When we were about three meters away, the elevator sounded like it was reaching the top of its run.
"That sounds like trouble." Mitchell commented as he drew his rifle.
"Sure does." I agreed, clenching my fists.
The elevator came to a stop as did we, pausing there for a second before the door unlocked and started open. Pretty quick, it was evident what we were up against.
Three Contractor Doomsday armors. Like the one Riva and I had run into Illium. Where the TIER version of the Doomsday armor almost looked like something from centuries past, the Contractor's version pulled all stops on a modern and intimidating style. The frame remained the same in proportions, but the armor was angled and sharp. In place of the diver-helmet head module, there was an angular apparatus that stayed as close to the body as possible, a rebreather in the center of its face and two angry-looking eyes wide-set and blazing red. They had more armor since Illium.
"I am currently routing through your armor and scanning hostiles for weaknesses." Maya informed, her voice in my ear an added reassurance. A moment later she added, "All joints are susceptible to bladed attacks. In addition, there is a port between the shoulder blades that would allow for swift execution of the operator. "
The three Doomsday pilots fell into a reverse V, one on each edge, as they approached. Close range or long didn't seem to matter. They were coming to break our line.
I barely even nodded. Delina and Viola both opened fire, followed by Riva and Torr. Kinetic barriers kept the hostiles protected from the barrage.
Also unlike TIER Doomsday armor, the Contractor revisions were armed with a three-finger grappler on their right hand and a dual-barrel assembly installed on the left. I wasn't fazed as I started walking towards them. Not as long as the guns remained offline, and they seemed intent on getting close. So I went for the armor on the right, strolling right up towards it even as it drew back its claw.
The grapple attack struck a form of me that flickered upon impact. The operator seemed confused for the several seconds as the hologram finally vanished. He didn't realize until too late that I was cloaked and behind him. I had already grabbed a hold of one shoulder with my left hand and drawn back my right blade as he started to turn. By then it was too late. The blade sunk into the weak vent point that lead right towards the operator's head.
Mitchell had taken on the other lead Doomsday armor. He had a more direct route, charging right at the Krogan-sized enemy and then catching its grappling arm by the wrist. In the sections of his armor that didn't have hard plating over them, the simple weave underneath suddenly didn't seem so simple. Strands of glowing crimson ran parallel to the arm underneath, outlining the synthetic muscle structure as the man in heavy armor kept the Doomsday grapple out of reach with one hand and pressed his shotgun to the chin of the armored operator. Automatic shotgun fire. Same as had ripped up the Mk.25, and it had a similar effect under the Doomsday armor's shields. The heavy armor didn't stand long before the whole contraption went limp and Mitchell heaved it back.
That still left one. One that had its grappling hand wound up and aimed for me. I dove out of the way, but it never got the chance to strike.
"Enough!" Viola snarled, locking the Doomsday armor down in stasis. A moment later, Riva phased in right behind the armor, leap onto its back, and drove a biotic blade through the weak point.
Torr was still sprinting forward, slowing as he reached one of the dead Doomsday armors. It was back down to the six of us, the Contractors taken out of the fight in a matter of seconds.
"Everyone good?" I checked as I dusted my shoulders off.
Most everyone nodded, except for Riva who was staring at the Contractor Doomsday operator she had taken out, jaw limp, panicked distance on her face.
"Riva!" I called, more barking to get her attention.
That worked. She shook her head and looked at the rest of us and nodded. Clenched both her fists and waited closer to the elevator as her eyes focused and her face remained blank and determined.
I glanced down at the three Doomsday operators we had taken out, uneasy for reasons other than having killed yet more Contractors. No, I didn't want to know if Sam repurposed was one of the three we had dispatched. No, I didn't want to believe that I had failed her and Jakur quite yet.
Nobody said a word, more internally bracing for the impending storm, as the six of us began boarding the elevator with little room to spare. Torr and Delina were both against the back wall, Riva and Viola on the frontmost sides, and me and the Shadow Broker agent right in front of the door. It was cozy.
"It might be a good idea to switch to a single closed-network comms channel while we're working together." Mitchell noted.
I didn't see any reason not to. The Shadow Broker agent wasn't afraid to get into the fight. "Good call."
"Just a moment..." Riva tore off a panel next to the elevator controls and dug out a handful of wires and began sifting through them. After a second, she jerked two wires from their connectors and shorted them out. The elevator lights went out. A moment later they came back online, and then the elevator began to move.
So the descent began.
I checked my omni-tool, making note of the extra icon on the network map, a blip on the minimap that I could only see when I brought up the haptic device. Gone were the days of having all those displays ported into my assassin mask. I had to look up kinetic plating power and armor integrity. Both at a hundred percent. I would know when my kinetics were stripped in battle, as they were set to detonate if they dropped to two percent. Didn't do much, but it might stun an attacker long enough. I still had my guns, and my blades were ready to activate. Still three grenades on my belt.
The rest of the squad was silent, maybe a tad uneasy. Viola stood there fiddling with the fire controls on her voltage carbine. Riva had her SMG in her left hand, tapping her fingers against the side of the wide elevator doors. Delina was staring at the wall, sniper rifle back out. And Torr... Well, the Vorcha was staring at his hands with an expression that only suggested he was watching them melt.
Mitchell broke the silence as he pointed in the general direction of my face. "Did you get that mask from a Mk.25?"
"Yeah."
"We've only gotten reports of those machines, and you saw the remnants of my first run-in with one. The Contractor lets them loose on bandit camps or anyone in his way."
Viola was staring at the floor.
"Seems about right." I snorted.
The enclosed elevator came to a halt. No telling what was waiting outside.
Azarith was aware of that as well.
/
Overclocking core clocks...
…
Synthetic adrenaline infusion increased...
…
Complete.
/
Seemed like we were on the same page for the time being, not fighting for control over the same body. Some things changed, and some didn't.
The elevator doors slid to each side. Barely time to react, much less think. I caught the glimmer of a cloaked assassin coming in. She uncloaked just as her katana started towards me, tip aimed right for my throat. I lurched forward, meeting halfway as I deflected her blow with my own tech and delivered a fast riposte in the form of a tech blade through her heart.
Another assassin had gone for Mitchell, being the other first and frontmost target. Somehow he had sidestepped her attack in a flash, grabbing her head as she passed, then snapped her neck. Just like that two assassins down.
Well, that left us ten meters from a whole squad of Contractor troopers with all sorts of small arms pointed at us. On the bright side, they were in a hallway and had nowhere to go. On the downside, we barely had any cover.
"Watch out." Delina growled as she shouldered into me with her biotics ablaze. And so, as she crouched and flung her hand up, she yelled: "Get wrecked!"
Well, the remotely spawned shockwave went crashing through the Contractors and sending them from a well-organized defense to a heap of scrambling panic.
"Face!" Torr screamed as he lunged forward, half crouched as he sprinted towards the Contractors. "I'll give your face value!"
Well, I drew the Model 687 from my back, shouldering the battle rifle and waiting for a target to rise. A sentinel. Three shots in near-immediate succession broke his armor and sent him crumpling back and knocking over two more troopers who were having trouble standing as it was.
About then Torr finally made it to the squadron of hostiles, leaping and landing on one poor fool's face. Without weapons, he dug in with his talons and both Vorcha and victim went down screaming. Another trooper was taking aim for the psycho when a sniper cracked and shields again broke. The trooper slumped.
Mitchell had switched to his third weapon. The SMG. At first I thought it was some equivalent of cryo rounds that made the air shudder as he fired, but whole sound of the weapon didn't match regular accelerator weapons. And it wasn't shavings tearing into the hostile trooper. There were shards of ice.
Torr had finally taken out the first target he went for, and with bloody talons leapt at another sentinel. The human tried to pull a pistol on the Vorcha, but Torr moved fast, spun the sidearm to the Contractor's throat milliseconds before the trigger pulled.
The remaining troops started to run, one Turian in heavy grey-and-red armor yelling "Fall back! Fall back to inner defense lines!"
So the six of us continued to move up, me and Mitchell heading the pack with our weapons raised.. The Broker agent didn't miss a step, even as he swapped some sort of power core in the SMG. I took a few potshots for good measure, but the last targets were ducking out of sight at the end of the hallway. Torr had picked up a shotgun and was at the back of our pack. A single shot as he made sure a hostile trooper was done and dead.
I glanced over my shoulder; Viola on one flank and Riva and Delina on the other. The arms specialist was pointing to Mitchell's SMG and whispering something to which the pseudo-commando only nodded.
The hallway was not all that long, perhaps twenty meters, and the last Contractor goons closed a door as they made it through, trying to lock it down in their wake. As we got closer, I called to the side. "Riva..."
"Let's see." The young T'Lan replied as she rushed forward, omni-tool already raised as she approached the door. She set to work, several seconds passing before her omni-tool blared at her and the Asari cursed under her breath. A second time and the haptic panel turned green and Riva stepped to the side and nodded.
I exchanged glances with the Shadow Broker agent, and we both seemed ready to charge. So I activated the door lock and charge we did. Right into a room lined by gear lockers.
Like the lockers, the room was empty. The sounds of Contractors fleeing could be heard from a hallway on the opposite side of the room. Full retreat, sounded like.
"Maya," I started with my right hand against the radio in my ear, "Can you crack into any of their comms chatter?"
"I am currently working on decrypting their radio signals; however I am able to access base activity. It would seem that you destroyed their main line of defense and all stragglers are fleeing by shuttle."
"Anything else you can tell?"
"From your armor, I am able to access base schematics. There are prisoner blocks, but they have undergone no changes since your arrival. I will download layouts to your omni-tools."
"An unchained AI? That's risky business." Mitchell looked over to me as Maya deactivated the comms link, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "That's the sort of thing we like knowing before we're on the ground."
"What, all the Broker's little birds hadn't heard about that?" I cracked right back. Never mind the fact that me and Maya shared runtimes.
"Every now and then a detail slips by. We can't check every ship in the galaxy to see which ones have AIs."
Delina was having a chuckle about something, and when I looked over at her she shook her head and shut up.
Again we moved up, necked down into another hallway. Another twenty meters or so, then we reached an overlook. Below, there was an empty shuttle platform that launched upwards into the swamps, dust settling back down as the last shuttles evac'd. Strange setup, a walkway flush all the way around the dock, separated by glass. From the landing where we stood, there were stairs leading down on each side, a landing at the shuttle dock, then continuing down to a lower deck.
"If they've already cleared out, let's split up. We should be able to cover the base faster and find anything useful." Mitchell suggested.
"Fine by me." I agreed. "You need any backup?"
"I doubt there's anything in here we couldn't all take on alone." The agent shrugged. "I'll let you know if I find anything."
"Copy that." I agreed, signaling my team out, down the stairs on the opposite side. When we reached the shuttle landing, I turned around. "Riva, Torr, Viola... You wanna check out the shuttle docks? See if anything got left behind or if there's any other entrances?"
"Of course." Riva agreed.
"Consider it done." Viola added.
Torr growled, and that was that.
Delina and I headed on down the stairs, further into to the unknown, and the arms specialist was hanging right on my shoulder as if she had a point to prove. So equally, I made it a point not to look back at her.
"Commander or not..." She started, "You're still a little shit."
"Thanks?" I offered, seeing that we weren't far from a final landing, the bottom of the stairs, where the path teed.
"You know... A few times after Hyetiana and the Citadel, I asked Rana if she regretted trusting you."
"And?"
"Never got a straight answer out of her. It was always, 'what's done is done' and she would go back to work."
I scowled, trying my best to hide the disappointment. In that I had hoped for a revelation, or at the very least some indication that Rana was fine – or would have been able to cope. Instead Delina gave me nothing. I didn't say a word until we reached the second landing, where I glanced to the left, into an empty mess hallway, and to the right, into what looked like crew quarters. "You take the right. I'll go left."
Without another word, we too split apart.
The mess hall was empty but I still held my rifle on the ready as I edged around the left side, stepping over chairs that had been knocked over in a hurried escape. I was also in the middle of the room – there were two doors on each side, both about twenty meters away. With another glance around, I knelt to pick up a datapad at my feet.
Unlocked. With another glance around, and my back to the wall, I set my rifle on my thighs and read through the datapad contents. I couldn't see anything interesting. Just a bunch of personal correspondence between the base leader and the leader of some other base. By the time it progressed to bad love notes, I had to set the damn thing down and look for something actually useful.
"Jackson," It sounded like Mitchell over the radio. "I found one block of prisoner cells. Looks like most all of them were experimented on one way or another, namely indoctrination or mutation."
"Any survivors?" I wondered as I knelt down and picked up another datapad that had been knocked to the floor in the exodus.
"Not so far as I can see. At least... not in the sense that you or I might consider." About then, there was the muffled sound of a body hitting glass. Nonsensical, enraged screaming behind the barrier. Likely a prisoner near Mitchell. The Broker agent was probably right. We were too late for anyone snared.
"Found an armory." Delina reported, seemingly unaware of the previous conversation. "Lots of good parts, too. I'll carry out what I can."
A second later and Riva was on the radio as well. "Reporting in. We didn't find anything of interest in the shuttle dock, and the surrounding areas are clear. Should we regroup at your position in the lower levels?"
"Might as well," I agreed, setting down another useless datapad and moving towards one end of the mess hall, spotting paper blueprints on a table.
"We could make good use of this shithole and scavenge as much as the six of us can carry." The arms specialist persisted. "Hell, what we can't use would fetch a pretty chit on Omega."
"Once we've cleared the place, we can think about that sort of thing." I growled as leaned forward on the table and looked down at the plans. Not for structure, but for an armor. Contractor Doomsday armor, it looked like. The whole construction outlined with every last detail covered. Air supply, electrical supply, motor joints, the works. Then, on top of the print, someone had been scribbling with a pen.
Needs more protection over joints.
Air supply needs improvement – vulnerable point on back.
Relying on shields... integrate Selsa shield generators on shoulders.
I wondered if the Contractor received those suggestions, or if they were stuck on the piece of paper under my hands. I was still interested, though, leaning closer for a better look at how the power core was located in the middle of the back. Like TIER designs, the front opened and allowed an operator to board. Then the contraption closed up around them. Protected them well against small arms fire, but not so much against blades. Maybe that was what the Mk.25s were for. Maybe the Doomsday armors were supposed to be ranged. Nor did that make sense as they had the grapple hand. Seemed like they had been developed for one purpose, then thrown into combat for another. What else could they be? I wondered. No need for that much armor and weaponry for any industrial application. Intimidation, maybe? They certainly looked mean.
"Forrest," Maya chimed in my ear, "It would appear as though some prisoners were inadvertently set free during the evacuation. I am detecting several motion signatures heading towards your position."
My eyes sprang up and my rifle soon followed. I didn't much like the sounds of that. About the time I eased my finger onto the trigger, the far door sprang open and several forms in ragged clothing came rushing in, one crashing over a chair and another vaulting onto a table. The one on the table caught eye of me, and let out a whoop as he lunged forward. Didn't get off of the table before a Vindicator burst hit him square center of mass, three shavings ripping into his back and sending him slumping off of the table.
The one crashed over the chair scrambled up to his feet, backing away from the still-open door from which he came. Another burst of rifle fire caught him square in the face. A third had tripped over the second, and was trying to run. A succession of three bursts and he too fell.
Whoever had the rifle soon lunged through the door, all four eyes wide and crazed looking as he leapt into the room and looked for more targets. Even as he moved in twitchy, spastic jolts, I recognized the Batarian there with rough-looking Contractor prisoner garb, rifle against his shoulder.
"Jakur!"
There wasn't a scrap of hesitation in him as he pulled the Vindicator barrel towards me and pulled the trigger.
There was a click. In maddened frustration he banged the side of the rifle, trying to fire at the floor once, then throwing the rifle at the wall.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, half ready to fire if the former Lancer Batarian lunged at me.
He stood there, half crouched and frantically tapping his fingers on a nearby table. "Figured you'd come back, that you'd try to find us. The guilt just got to be too much, huh? Started a war you always knew you wouldn't win, and got us killed in the process. Oh yea, dead alright. Maybe I'm still going on the outside but man! I've been here too long to look at things the same."
About then, I heard the opposite door open and my attention was diverted towards a single, skinny figure standing there and staring into the mess hall hesitantly. Blond hair half strewn over the shoulder of her Contractor prisoner garb. Samantha Roxin. She glanced to me, jaw hanging loose and hands limp by her side. She wasn't hostile. Not yet, anyway. No, the Doomsday operator stood there as if she didn't have any idea what else she could do.
Jakur, on the other hand... I glanced back, realizing I had let him out of my sight and that wasn't a good idea right then. I didn't even turn all the way towards where he was. Already he had covered half the room, sprinting right at Sam with a rough shiv in his right hand. My rifle was trained, and I tracked him through the iron sights, finger tight on the trigger.
I couldn't get myself to make the call, to put down my former squad member. By the time I realized that I didn't have a choice it was already too late. He tackled Sam to the ground. The rifle wasn't going to do me much good then, not unless I wanted to risk taking them both out. I started forward. Might have been able to break up the struggle.
Sam was doing a commendable job of trying to keep Jakur and his shiv at bay, but she was only so strong. Nor was she fueled by the utter madness that seemed to have taken over the soldier as he pressed the blade closer and closer to her face. There was a slip and Sam let out a scream, still struggling, still alive even as it seemed as he had driven the blade into her face. Just as I closed in, the Batarian leapt up with the shiv held up for both of us to see.
"An eye for an eye, Jackson! An eye -" He lunged forward, trying to drive the shiv forward even as I caught his wrist with my bionic hand and kept the point at a relatively safe distance. Still close enough that I could see the bloody eyeball already driven onto the metal blade. " - for an eye!"
I had the soldier held back, a struggle no doubt, but I tried a minute more to see any scrap of life left behind his four eyes. And there was nothing, no trace of the person I had known before. A madman completely consumed by direction-lacking aggression, only above Ravers in his ability to form words. It was a conscious decision:
I was going to have to kill him.
With my second teammate there, snarling and trying to drive his shiv into my Mk.25 mask, I formed a tech blade around my left hand. And I drove it right up through his chin.
The madman formerly known as Jakur sputtered in surprise for but a second, then started to slump. I deactivated my blade and eased him down. Dead well before his body came to rest on the floor. For seconds I couldn't do anything but stare at my work, wondering what the hell I had done. Out of the corner of my eye, Sam stood up.
She fell down on her knees next to Jakur and started to sob, only compounding the problem of blood trickling from the right side of her face, where her hair had fallen and about shrouded her entire expression.
"Sam..." I began, realizing no words were going to fix the past six weeks, but I was unwilling to stand by and watch. I knelt next to her, took the sobbing girl in my arms while she sort of fell against my chest. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't need to –"
"No." She insisted through sobs, trying to shake her head as she knelt there limp. "They... They flashed him the first day. All this time I've seen a face I no longer recognize. Every time he would try to kill me."
"I'm sorry." I repeated. "I should have been here sooner."
Sam stopped sobbing to look up at my metal facemask with her left eye, then fell back into hysteria. "No. No, they said you were all dead – Forrest, Viola, Torr, Sanya – every last one of the Lancers!"
"Come on..." My voice was unintentionally harsh as I rose to my feet and helped Sam up as well. "We need to get you out of here."
"What -" Viola started to ask as she burst into the room with her CVC2 raised, Torr and Riva right on her heels. The expression on Viola's face became nothing less than complete disbelief. She holstered her rifle and hurried towards us. "Oh goddess..."
Sam, with her arm slung over my shoulder and still sobbing, glanced up at Viola and muttered something that I didn't catch. Viola didn't hesitate to get right in there, supporting the Doomsday operator's other arm – which was a good thing, because I was holding about all of her weight and dragging her along before.
"Jakur..." Torr muttered, sniffing at the air. "I smell his death."
Riva was standing there in the doorway with an unsure look on her face. Hell, I didn't know what to think either. Figured it would be best to get Sam out of there if there was nothing worthwhile in the damn base.
"Jackson!" Mitchell yelled over the radio, "I'm picking up gunfire from your side of the complex – everything under control over there?"
"A bit of a scuffle. We're fine, but we've got one prisoner that needs to get out of here stat."
"I copy you. I'm coming up dry – meet you back at the top stair landing."
I nodded, then spoke without the radio. "Maya?"
"I have already relayed the information to Jarka. The Ortona is online and we will dusting down within five minutes." The AI replied through my radio.
"Good work." I nodded, in part to Maya and in part to Riva who stepped to the side.
"Oye!" Delina called out, trying to pull a cart loaded down with guns and gun parts out to the bottom of the stairway. "Someone wanna give me a hand busting all this shit back up to the Ortona?" Then she must have seen Sam's condition as she pointed right at the nearly-limp Doomsday operator. "Damn, what happened to her eye?"
"Delina!" I exasperated, trying to keep her in line without making things that much worse, "Not now!"
"Ok, fine." The arms specialist relented as Viola and me started to haul Sam up the stairs. "Anyone gonna help with the supplies, then?"
Riva had fallen right in behind the three of us, acting as though she'd cover us if shit went south. Torr was the only left.
"Shiny death sparklers... load me down."
I could almost hear Delina groan about being stuck with the Vorcha, but we had far more pressing matters at hand. We weren't exactly fast in heading up the stairs with Sam in tow, but we were making progress. Already to the first landing.
Sam was looking down and Viola was looking straight ahead. The Asari was hard to read at times – I couldn't tell if there was any guilt or remorse under there; anything along those lines came to the surface as determination to survive and keep the rest of us alive.
We reached the top landing about the same time as Mitchell, and he seemed to wince under his Aegis armor. "That doesn't look good. Is she stable otherwise?"
"Far as we can tell, yeah."
The Shadow Broker agent took a moment to scan her with his omni-tool. "No sign of cybernetics. Is your ship coming in for pickup?"
"Yeah." I responded, glancing down the stairs at Delina and Torr both with as many gun parts as the two could carry.
Riva jumped, flicking her SMG up towards the glass dividing us from the shuttle dock below. After a second she shook her head nervously. "Apologies. I thought I saw movement of some nature."
I scowled, not wanting any more trouble or death than we'd already run into, as I glared out at the empty dock. For several seconds there was nothing.
Then a shuttle came crashing down. Either unpiloted or out of power, it landed in a skid of sparks and came to a halt right in the middle of the bay. Contractor colors. The door was bashed open, and an angry-looking Krogan swung out, slammed into the deck, and upon looking around for targets, bellowed, "Orders be damned! Nobody takes my base! Nobody!"
"Riva." I commented quickly, getting her attention, nodding to Sam's arm and then switching out. Gave her a slap on the shoulder. "Get her back to the Ortona with the rest of the crew. I'll make sure this dude stays with his base."
The young T'Lan hesitated for a moment more, but hearing the Krogan tromping our way sped up her reluctant agreement, and with a nod to Viola, they headed off. Torr and Delina were in close behind, the arms specialist smirking at me and advising, "Don't get yourself killed again, jackass."
We were down five. It was just Mitchell and me standing there on the top landing of the stairs, watching and waiting.
"You ready to take down a Krogan warlord?" He asked.
"You bet." I agreed, locking down the door out before we both vaulted over the railing and dropped a level down to where the dock came in, bypassing the stairs and setting ourselves ten meters away from an angry Krogan in Contractor armor. Both of us humans cracked our knuckles as we faced the single opponent. Time to kick ass.
xxxx