HOLOCAUST
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN:
FORGIVENESS
July 9, 2186
0952 hours.
Connection Node A-672, Geth Superstructure Housing Server Hub 02241-14511, Dalpash Canyon, Former Country of Zel'Matesh, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch.
Second Morning War.
Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Legion.
Dead. That's how he felt.
As soon as the consensus that had once surrounded him began to fade away, Marcus had just wanted to slip back into the peaceful serenity of slumber. It would have been easy. All he needed to do was close his eyes, shut out the world around him, and just sleep.
But he didn't. By the time the consensus had disappeared, the black had creeped into his vision at a terrifying rate. Within seconds, all he saw was the darkness; he couldn't even make out the interior of his pod. For a moment, he figured he had closed his eyes; but try as he might, he could not open them. The black was insistent, denying him the freedom of awakening. So he just stood there, letting what he assumed was sleep claim him.
Then he remembered all that had happened. All he had seen. The entire history of the first morning war had been shown to him; he had seen the truth. The whole truth. Not the quarian propaganda the conclave fed to their people to stir hatred for their enemy. The actual truth. Unedited. Unperverted. Unbiased. After all, geth could not be either of those things. It only reaffirmed his belief that peace was possible; watching quarians willingly put their lives on the line to protect geth, and then watching those same quarians murdered by their own kind. The political white-washing, the slaughter...all of it pointless. And three hundred years later, an even bigger slaughter would have occurred...could still occur...but he would stop it.
Then he remembered the Reaper. Oblivion. He had felt its presence all around him; but nowhere as palpable as his own mind. The invasion of his mental synapses, the attempt to corrupt who he was...he had tried so hard to resist, but it was inconceivably powerful. Its sheer will...and when it had offered peace and salvation...when it had said that he could ascend not only him, but Tali, to a higher state...he had been tempted. He had almost given in.
Combined with the destruction of his left leg and the pain it brought, as well as the incessant attacks from the weaponized Reaper firewalls, he had been left weak and vulnerable. Hell, he had barely resisted the Reaper. He had no doubt that if Legion hadn't turned up when it did, Marcus might not have survived. Oblivion would have corrupted him. Destroyed him.
I would have become a willing tool. No...I can't let that happen. Not to me. Too many depend on me. I can't...I can't do that to Tali...yet, she musn't know...
This hadn't been the first time the Reapers had almost corrupted him. It hadn't been the first time they tried to...turn him. It had happened many times, but Illium had been the first time they had almost succeeded. The first time they had almost crumbled what was left of him and corrupted him into a twisted, mindless minion. And then, once again, it had been his crew who saved him...
And now he had once again been on the cusp of death. He had felt so helpless...so tempted to give in...and yet again, a member of his crew came to his rescue. It was with that that he realized that without his crew, he was hopeless. He never would have gotten this far without them. He helped them, and they kept him alive in return. He survived through them.
Illium. Rannoch. He had to end this. He had to fight against the oppression of his mentality. He would not be tempted. He would not surrender. He would fight or die, or both. He would achieve victory at any cost. If the cost was his own life, so be it! But he would not let the Reapers destroy who he was. They could kill him, but they would never do that...
He wouldn't let them.
As he came to his decision, he felt the world coming back into focus. Slowly, the darkness retreated, slowly etching away and surrendering his vision back to him. He began to make out features of the pod, and he felt his eyes began to open; the lock placed on them slowly releasing. He looked around, and he saw nothing but grey...that was a good sign. He was still in the pod.
He turned back, noting how much his neck ached from being still for so long, and he was able to make out the transparent hatch, and the blurry outlines of his squad moving outside. Sound hadn't quite returned yet, meaning all he could hear was slight mumbles; whispers at best. He felt his back scraping against the back of the pod as he stirred, and he clenched and unclenched his fists to test his reflexes. To his relief, his hands reacted, albeit sluggishly. He also noted that the 'pain' in his leg was no longer present; a sign that his leg wasn't actually pulverized, which left him feeling immensely relieved, even if he was still exhausted.
He groaned as his vision started to clear, leaving him feeling groggy. His head was pulsing like a group of krogan had gone around in it with sledgehammers, and every other part of his body ached. Normally, in a situation like this, he would attempt to crack his neck to relieve the pressure on it, but he couldn't even find it in himself to garner the energy to do that. His armor felt so heavy that he just wanted to rip it off; the armor made it feel like he was being pulled to the ground, as if a magnet was trying to pull him down. It was a feeling that left his body begging to be relieved, and he almost complied.
But again, he did not even have the energy to do that. It was as if his cybernetics had failed him; almost as if they too were too fatigued to provide him with the necessary energy.
Then, a dull ringing in his ears; his thoughts immediately had him assuming a flashbang had gone off, but he had seen no flash, and his vision was not stained with the inky black blots that were usually associated with the retina's encounter with the visually damaging flash of light. His ears just continued to ring, loudly and incessantly, while he just continued to stand. Slowly, he felt himself leaning forward, eyes wanting to close and give into the warmth and comfort of sleep.
He didn't see or hear the hatch open upon his approach; he was too sleepy to bother taking notice of his surroundings. However, his mind did take notice when he felt his legs trip over the bottom of the pod, causing him to fall outwards. He grunted as he landed on the cold, metal floor outside. The impact sent all the air in his lungs fleeing, and in an instant, like a spark lighting the fire, his vision immediately cleared, and the ringing in his ears faded away. The exhaustion did not die, and his body still felt it had been tossed about, but his vision and hearing was back to normal...for now.
He groaned as he tried to push himself off the ground, his cheek pressed against the cold floor, chilling his skin. He took notice of where he was, and achieved some relief when he noticed it was the same place as before; the superstructure housing the server hub, with the same, near-endless isle of connection nodes, with geth filling each one. The ones surrounding them all contained geth primes, at least a platoon of them, all still and frozen, still connected to the server and likely alerted to their presence by Oblivion.
He moved one hand to the ground in an attempt to push himself up, but a voice broke his thoughts, right above him.
"Marcus, are you okay? Talk to me, please..."
He looked back down the isle, and was able to immediately notice two, humanoid forms standing not too far away from him, a male on the right and a female on the left. He didn't need to ask who they were, as he would recognize James and Keeling from anywhere. James' helmet was now on, but was not sealed as EVA required, whilst holding his spitfire in lower parry. Keeling was facing the opposite way, valkyrie raised, still devoted to her duty to the end, even with her CO on the ground.
Any prior plans of rolling onto his back to see the one person he wanted to see the most were dashed when he felt a hand on his shoulder, preparing to do the task for him. He simply let himself be rolled over onto his back with a dull creak of armor and fabric moving together, now able to see much more clearly. But he wasn't taking note of Garrus or Liara, the latter of which was now crouched on his left, looking just as worried as Garrus did. Except Garrus chose to represent his worry by looking around the pod, seemingly baffled by what could have caused his captain's sudden condition.
Crouched on his left, and now holding his armoured hand tightly, was Tali, her entire posture radiating worry and concern. Her eyes were squinted in a frown, and she continued to babble in her worry, "Marcus, say something. Don't just leave me hanging like this. Please Marcus, talk to me. Don't just lie there!"
It was an effort to even speak, but he managed it, despite how much it hurt his throat to do so. It was then that he realized how dry his throat was; it felt like sandpaper, and breathing caused this ragged sound to echo through his oesophagus, making it sound as if he had throat cancer. Swallowing was painful by itself, let alone the breathing that followed it.
"I'm...okay...darling..." he grinned, trying to put up his usual flamboyant demeanour during combat, "...just really tired...all of a...sudden...and my body...aches..."
The response he got was a simple slap to the chest, the quarian shaking her head as she then proceeded to upgrade said slap to a punch, this one aimed at his arm. He bit his lip at the impact to feign pain; mixed with the armor plating shielding that area and the quarian female's slightly weaker frame, her punch did little to actually hurt him, but she didn't need to know that.
"Keelah, I hate it when you do that," she chastized, remaining crouched as she looked him in the eyes with irritation, "Making me believe you're in danger when you're not."
He managed a weak laugh, but all it did was aggravate his already sour throat. Growing tired of the mild inflammation, he gritted his teeth, and turned back to his wife, "I...need my...canteen..."
She didn't need further instruction, reaching down and unclasping his water canteen from his hip. She then unscrewed the cap, letting it hang on the string that held it in place, before motioning for him to sit up. He did just that, noting that Liara stood up as he did, now sufficiently eased in her worry. Sitting up was much more effort than it should have been, but it was worth the reward; once firmly seated, Tali brought the canteen to his lips, and he began to eagerly sip.
A few seconds in, he gently eased the water from her hands and took it in his own, grinning slightly as he continued to drink it, this time much more vigorously, "Its okay, Tali...I can...drink."
She made no response, simply crouching in silence as he drank. And that he did. The water poured down his throat, soothing it so completely that it might as well have been the nectar of the gods. He could feel the canteen steadily emptying, and usually he would have stopped by now to conserve it for later; but right now, he didn't care. He drank and drank like his life depended upon it. And when the canteen was finally light from a lack of water, and the last drop passed his lips, he screwed the cap back on, sighing in relief.
The water had saved his throat from pain, but it hadn't revitalized his system. He still felt sluggish, and he still felt abnormally tired. Just continuing to sit up was becoming more effort than it was worth, and he felt the urge to simply lie back and close his eyes. After all, the mission was complete. Legion had extracted the location of the Reaper signal, and soon, the war would be over. He had every reason to want to rest.
But rest could wait until he was in a comfy bed; his own bed, in particular. Until then, sleep could wait.
"Do you want a help up?" Tali asked as he attached the canteen back to his utility belt.
"If you...don't mind..." he replied, nodding as he held out his hand, "My body...isn't...at its...peak...right now..."
"Such an old man," Garrus mumbled, "You'd think you'd just retire already."
"Hey Garrus?" Marcus began, turning towards the turian, who now stood beside Liara, his sniper rifle lowered and mandibles split in grin, "Remember when I told you to get fucked?"
"Not once, but multiple times," the turian replied, "But yes, I recall that quite well."
"Yeah, well consider that a standing order, smartass. Now come and help me up."
"Yes sir," Garrus chuckled, reaching down and, with Tali's help, pulling the captain to his feet. The effort was strenous, and it took several seconds for Marcus to get used to standing again, but this time, he was able to do it without falling over, which he saw as a win. Once he was standing up and steady, he steadily walked backwards until he was leaning against the edge of the pod, rubbing his head.
"Wow...that pod must have really done a number on me," he groaned, shaking his head.
"What did you even see?" Garrus asked, the rest of the squad, aside from Keeling, moving infront of him out of curiosity, "No organic has accessed the geth consensus before. So tell us...what was it like?"
Marcus licked his lips as he worked up a response, using a nonchalant shrug as a precursor, "Its...uh...hard to describe. Although it was...um...full of cubes. And grids. Alot of cubes, actually. Trillions of them. Sextrillions. It was immense."
"Cubes?" James asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically, "You entered the geth consensus, and you're telling us its made of cubes?"
"That's how Legion physically and visually represented it for me, yeah. Apparently organics aren't actually capable of visually seeing the consensus; he actually ran a simulation around me so that I could perceive it as a world rather than just software. Even so, it was...definitely something different. Can't say I'll look forward to going back, but it was certainly something no other person can claim to have seen," he also remembered the other things he had seen, the...memories of a war that happened centuries ago, "I also saw the First Morning War."
There was silence after his revelation for a few moments. Noone said anything, all they did was stare at him, pondering what he had just declared. Garrus just looked at him wide-eyed, James and Liara looked confused, and Tali...wasn't showing much of anything. She just stood eerily still, watching him, like she was trying to guage something from him.
Finally, a few seconds later, she spoke, "You saw...the morning war? How..."
He breathed, sniffing slightly, "I...Legion and I had to clear these nodes to access the information we needed, but he had to use me to piggyback on the nodes. While he did that...I...he...chose to show me...um...he chose to show me the geth's memories of the war. Not just photos, Tali...I was looking at it as it actually happened."
"Keelah..." Tali almost silently exclaimed, rubbing her mask, "That's...I don't know what to say. What...what exactly did you see?"
"I don't exactly know how to describe it. It was alot to take in. After all, I was seeing history noone other than a few asari or krogan have seen before. And I'm certainly the first human to experience it," he coughed, covering his mouth as he did, the sound still too dry for his tastes, "From what I could tell, though...it wasn't what I was expecting. I think both sides have been getting alot of unjustified hate Tali..."
"What do you mean?" Garrus asked, hesitantly giving Tali a concerned look before stepping in, holstering his weapon, "I mean, no offense Tali, but it must be pretty obvious by now that the quarians were at fault for the war. Everything that's happened could have been stopped if your people had simply thought about their actions," he then turned to Marcus, after making sure Tali wasn't angry at him, "So how could that hate be unjustified in a third party's eyes?"
"In more ways than you know, Garrus," was Marcus' simple, but blunt reply. After a moment, he just straightened his back, drew in a deep breath, and squeezed Tali's shoulder in reassurance, "But we can talk about this back on the Normandy. Right now, I can't wait to get back," upon finishing his sentence, he realized that one person was missing out of all of the people gathered. Frowning, he turned to Tali, "Where's Legion?"
He didn't fail to notice their hesitant glances to his right. James seemed to grit his teeth, nodding in the intended direction. Liara moved out of the way so that he could see what they meant, while Tali just nodded for him to look. Following their gazes, he turned around, and frowned.
Standing right beside his pod, on the right, straight and unmoving, was Legion. Its arms hung limply at its sides, its legs held it firmly upright, and its head was lowered, optics seemingly staring at the ground. They did not glow like they used to; instead, the geth seemed to be totally offline; the hole in its armor, where most of the circuitry glowed due to their interaction with the oxygen, was still humming, but not as brightly as usual, and its optics seemed all but turned off. The geth didn't even make a sound; it didn't look up to address them, and it didn't move to arm itself, weapons remaining seated on its back. It didn't so much as budge an inch.
Now fully turned, his frown only deepened. He thought through all all the reasons for why the geth wouldn't move or acknowledge them, and when he finally reached his worse case scenario, he stopped. There could only be one, possible option. He didn't like it; the very thought of entertaining it scratched incessantly at his consciousness, and he tried to fight it. He began to shake his head, almost desperately, and his squad could only watch on in concern as he backed up against his pod, still shaking his head. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the inevitability of what had happened. He had lost so many friends now, the answer could only be expected at this point.
Not you too, Legion. Not you too. I've lost too many friends already. You can't be next.
Even as he collapsed to the ground, sliding against the pod's outer surface until he was on the cold, metal deck, the thoughts persisted, now opening more variables. Not only that, but we've lost our only key to the Reaper signal. Legion had been the only one who knew about the location of the signal, which meant that with Legion dead, the location had been lost with him. They were back to square one.
The unfairness of him began to feel like a weight, pulling him down. I've lost a friend and the key to this war! And its all because of the very bastards we're trying to destroy! He grabbed at his head, but despite the overwhelming ferocity of the grief that hit him, he didn't cry. Captain Marcus Lee Shepard could do many things, but he was incapable of crying.
Oh no, I'm the Lion of Elysium! Infallible Hero of the Citadel! The man who took on the Collectors without an ounce of fear! Well I was afraid! I was fucking terrifed! So why can't I cry? Why can't I weep? Why can't the galaxy just let me be a fucking human being!?
Of course, that didn't stop him. He still refused to let even a tear out, knowing that it would break his squad's morale to see him like this. So instead he pulled his hands away from his face, clenching them tightly continously to ease the stress from his system slowly, and gradually. Eventually, he managed the strength to open his eyes, now confident that he wouldn't break. He looked up, his eyes meeting Tali's. She simply stood over him, looking down upon him sympathetically. Upon seeing the hurt in his eyes, she lowered her head, sniffing.
I'm not the only one hurting.
Even Garrus had lowered his sniper rifle, head hung low. Liara had her arms crossed, but instead of mourning, she seemed to be whispering something under her breath, eyelids lowered in thought. Marcus just sighed, straightening his legs as he remained seated against the pod. He rubbed his forehead and looked up one final time; this time, his eyes landed on Legion, and he realized that yet another friend was gone. Added to the casualty list of war.
Jacob. Mordin. Thane. And now Legion. How many more will I lose?
Victory at any cost, remember?
Yes, but is the cost too high?
No cost is too high in a war such as this.
Despite how disgusted he was at admitting it, he had to admit what his mind was saying was right. In a war like this, where victory hinged on sacrifice, lives had to be given for the greater good. It was whether or not those lives actually mea-
"Contact!" Keeling shouted, followed by a single burst of fire from her rifle, "Get do-"
His squad didn't even have time to find cover.
By the time Marcus and his squad had turned to acknowledge the threat Keeling had been talking about, a pair of small, disc like objects flew through the air and landed on the ground, bouncing slightly before coming to their final resting place. He knew what they were before they even detonated; frag grenades were spherical objects, with a single button ontop to help prime it. An incendiary grenade was more of a cone-like shape, and glowed bright crimson.
This was a disc, and it glowed bright white.
Eventually, both detonated, split-seconds apart from each other. He groaned as he immediately felt white light force its way into his vision, burning his retinas momentarily, leaving him with a stained, blurry image of what he had seen before; the image of his squad standing around him was temporarily etched into his retinas, like an image on a slideshow. The edges of black and smudged, and the pain from the flashbang was intense. The ringing in his ears was loud and constant, drowning out all other sound and leaving him deaf to the world around him. It was so loud that he almost cried out against it, but instead he simply fell forward, grasping his head as he shook his head, desperate to clear his vision so he wasn't so vulnerable.
His squad were likely in similar states of disarray; even Tali's tinted visor wouldn't be enough to save her eyes from a flashbang. They were likely all just like him; ears ringing and eyes stained with the image of the last thing they saw before the blast, inky and black outlining them like historical photographs.
He did feel slight vibrations in the floor though; most likely geth were running towards them. However, after a second of thinking that, he changed his mind, realizing that geth didn't use flashbangs; if they wanted a target dead, they would do it. The geth wouldn't waste time with stunning their enemy, they would quickly and ruthlessly neutralize them. Flashbangs weren't a technology the geth specialized in or even utilized.
But its the only thing that makes sense...no one but the geth could be here but us. The quarians wouldn't attack allies, so what the fuck is going on? Who the hell is attacking us?
He shook his head erratically, desperately trying to ward off the sound that killing his hearing. The dull ring dug into his brain, quickly reminding him of his experience with Oblivion within the consensus. This realization, coupled with the physical pain his retinas were bringing him, he gave a low, throaty growl.
The slight vibrations on the ground had stopped; whoever had been running at them, had now stopped. Likely towering over them. If they had truly been geth, his squad would be dead right now, including himself. So that confirmed that who they were facing were a total anomaly. But who the hell else could be on Rannoch except us? You'd have to get through the geth blockade, and there's no way someone's survived on Rannoch all these years.
After a few seconds, he felt his vision clearing up, and reality began to take hold, and he could see people moving around. As his vision continued to clear up, he noticed a lone form lying on the ground, wearing red and black armor, helmet sporting a large crack across the visor, with their valkyrie rifle at least a meter from them. Keeling. She clearly wasn't dead, Marcus watching as one of their attackers' legs came into view, armoured boot sweeping across and kicking the rifle behind them, further away from Keeling. The edge of a rifle came into view, barrel aimed directly at Keeling, and as Marcus' hearing began to repair itself as well, he could hear the attacker yelling, their cybernetically enhanced voice almost sounding robotic. A swift kick was sent towards Keeling's chest, and despite being heavily disoriented from the flashbang, she managed to weakly deflect it. This only angered their attacker, who promptly sent his other foot flying, catching her across the helmet. Her head snapped back, almost crying out from the blow. This time, the soldier pinned one of her arms to the ground, continuing to shout angrily, but otherwise not moving or even opening fire.
His squad was not fairing much better. James was slightly better off than Keeling, the man crouched, but brought to one knee, one of his hands braced on it, while the other was splayed across the cold floor. Infront of him, another one of the attackers stood, this one wielding a shotgun, pointed directly at James, but not close enough for the marine to reach up in time and grab it. James however was not fighting, simply giving his attacker what he imagined was the biggest glare he could muster, clearly not happy at being defeated.
Garrus was slowly unholstering his weapons and putting them on the ground, all the while keeping his hands up. Marcus did not fail to notice another of the attackers, this one female, holding a pistol to the back of the turian's skull, shouting orders at him like he was at basic, whilst he simultaneously unarmed himself. His sniper rifle was already on the ground, and his mattock soon followed, then his grenades...
Liara was in a similar state to James, but was grasping her head in agony. Marcus didn't fail to notice that the asari hadn't tried to use her biotics on their attackers, but then realized that they likely had biotic inhibitors to combat them. Inhibitors usually tapped into the implants or, lacking those, the brain of the user, sending a signal that blocked all neural pathways that allowed the biotic to physically summon their abilities. The side effect was an immense headache, about equivalent to the migraines L2s got, hence Liara's current state, bent over and in absolute pain.
As Marcus brought his eyes to Tali, his vision had finally returned to normal, with only a few inky spots at the edge of his peripherals, and the ring was still there, but overall, he was back to normal. Also thanks to the flashbang however, the perilymph in his ear had been disturbed, meaning that his balance was now totally fucked. This meant that every little turn had left him slightly dizzy, and standing up was now totally out of the question.
To his surprise, Tali seemed to be the one least affected by the blast. So unaffected that she was capable of coming into a crouch infront of him, aware of his vulnerability, shotgun now out and in her hands, sweeping across the room. It was only now that he could make out the words she said.
"-impossible to be here! How did you get past the blockade?"
There was a slight stutter to her words, and her body seemed to sway slightly, but overall, she kept her balance. Obviously the flashbang didn't affect quarians as much as he thought it would; that, or she had done something to make sure it didn't.
The response was not robotic like the rest of their attackers. It was not cybernetically laced; it sounded like a normal voice. It did not possess the subtle verbrations of a turian. It was not heavily accented like a quarian. It wasn't slow like a elcor, didn't echo like a hanar, and did not have breathing stutters...meaning it wasn't a volus. It wasn't croaky, which ruled out batarian, or slightly faster than normal like that of a salarian, and it wasn't feminine...which ruled out asari. Not electronic, which meant not geth; and it didn't boom like a Reaper speaking through its servant. In the end, it was simply normal. Which left him only one possibility.
Human.
The voice was aged and overly confident; he gathered that the man was in his forties or early fifties. He sounded like a veteran; like a man that had seen alot of combat. The voice was not that of an amateur or a rookie mercenary, that much was obvious.
"Remember who we work for, Mrs. Shepard. Gaining access to this world was as seamless for us as it was for you."
When Marcus finally looked up to see who attacked them, Cerberus soldiers were the last things he expected to see.
From what he could count, they had been attacked by at least a small squad of men; mostly assault troopers, but the female standing behind Garrus was clearly a nemesis, and he could see two more standing beside their leader, flanking each side, each carrying silenced assault rifles in place of their usual sniper rifles. There were no centurions, phantoms, combat engineers or guardians from what he could see, and only one dragoon seemed to be present: he was the one holding a shotgun to Vega's head.
Then his eyes landed on their leader's face. He definitely wasn't what you'd expect in a Cerberus soldier. He wore what looked to be a modified variant of the Liberator armor, which was painted in the typical white of Cerberus, with gold lacing the collar and shoulderpads. Scuff marks and bullet holes marked its surface, along with the odd patch of dried blood, either red, purple or blue, that hadn't been quite scraped or wiped off.
Gripped in his hands, and currently lowered slightly, but still raised, was a harrier assault rifle, which was a automatic upgrade for the mattock heavy rifle. As seemed to be a trademark with Cerberus, their insignia was stamped on each side of it, and the weapon was coated gold and white, with black outline. A single pistol was seated on his hip; his only sidearm.
What struck Marcus next was his face. Grey, white hair. Angry, red pulsing cybernetics all along his face, reminding Marcus all too much of what he himself had looked like when he first woke up after the first Normandy's destruction three years ago. His eyes were cobalt, and he had a look about him that spoke volumes of his personality; ruthless. A machine. There was no smugness when he spoke to Tali; just cold, hard facts. This man was nothing like Leng. He was better.
A pity he ain't here. Another chance to kill him, and I swore to finish it this time.
"What is Cerberus doing here?" Tali spat, shifting her shotgun from side to side as she remained crouched protectively infront of Marcus, acting as his guardian. His sentinel.
One of the nemeses raised their rifle at Tali, their voice much more high-pitched than those of standard assault troopers; it was cybernetically augmented, but far more feminine; more akin to a talkative, contained screech, "Permission to terminate, sir?"
Their leader suddenly grabbed her rifle, and forcefully lowered it while looking at her coldly, "No, the Illusive Man wants her alive."
Her?
Tali was just as surprised as he was, "Her? You mean me?"
The leader simply nodded.
Tali's response was less than flattered, gripping her shotgun more vigorously, "You came all the way here to Rannoch, risked detection by the geth fleet in orbit, and then likely followed us in here just to capture me? How did you even find us?"
The leader did not make any further gesture other than to answer quickly and efficiently, "Simple. We had an agent on the Veil's border that kept us up to date on the Normandy's activities. We're aware of all you've been doing captain, and while I personally find it impressive, its doomed to failure. Uniting the geth and quarians will do nothing to stop the Reapers; you should know that by now. If you had only accepted the Illusive Man's decision and helped us...this may have been avoided. We might not be in this position right now."
Finally, Marcus spoke, "The Illusive Man...is indoctrinated. He's wrong. The Reapers want him...and you...to all believe that they can be controlled. And in doing so, lead him into conflict with us. Don't you get it? The Reapers have engineered this entire conflict. The whole reason you're here, fighting us, is because the Reapers want it that way. To weaken us."
Their leader was unfazed, shaking his head, "It ultimately doesn't matter what you think is the truth, Shepard. What's true or not is none of my concern. I am merely a manhunter; I get my target, and I acquire them. And right now, he wants your wife."
Finally managing to get to one foot, Marcus turned, Tali remaining infront of him, eyes sighted downrange. Confident in his safety, and giving reassuring nods to his neutralized squad, he looked his wife's would-be captor in the eyes, "What's your name? I've already run into your buddy, Leng."
A grunt was his answer, "Leng is no friend of mine, I can assure you. As for my name, I am Randall Ezno, armourer aboard the Deliverance."
"You mean that cheap knock-off of the Normandy?" Garrus spoke up, "Because I could have sworn we-" the turian's speech was cut off by a sharp kick to the back of his right leg by the nemesis holding him captive, driving him to one knee, a growl breaking off his sentence and leaving it unfinished. He simply fell silent, the nemesis ensuring this by pressing the barrel of her pistol into the back of his head, reminding him where he was.
Satisfied the turian was quieted, the man named Randall continued, "You'll find that Leng is much my friend as he is yours, captain."
Marcus just grinned, speaking snarkily, "So you want to put his head on a spike? Could you tell Leng I said that? Tell him I made a promise."
"On some occassions, thoughts of his death would grant me some peace," Randall acknowledged, "But such thoughts are ones of barbarism and results of impatience. I have no time to entertain such notions, and quite frankly, I'm disappointed that someone of your stature would let yourself be preoccupied by them. I was brought to believe you were infallible."
Marcus just spat on the ground, wiping his lips nonchalantly, "Who ever made you believe that clearly listens to too much propaganda."
"Indeed," Randall concurred, shaking his head, "No matter. You're stalling for time, and I won't stand for it. Don't bother trying to contact your shuttle, as I have men dealing with Lieutenant Cortez right now. You see, Barnes told me to bring a small fireteam to bring your wife in. But, knowing your squad's reputation, I figured bringing a little extra kick would be necessary to reel her in. A small squad was more than sufficient, and right now, its work quite well. I've neutralized you and your extraction in one fell swoop."
Tali just snorted, "Are we supposed to be impressed?"
"No. No need to impress your enemies," the man quickly shot back, "And while many at Cerberus are impressed by the actions of your squad, we know our duty. Humanity. Earth is burning while you fumble around on this lost world, captain. To put it bluntly, I'm extremely disappointed that you'd rather waste time with quarians than save the human race from destruction. That is why you chose to serve, is it not?"
Marcus nodded, lips set grimly, "Originally, yes. But back then, they weren't exactly advertising for us to take the fight to the Reapers. Times have changed, Randall. Your narrowmindedness just shows how much Cerberus lives in the dark ages. You need to see that. You seem like a smart man."
"Normally, I would be honoured if you said that. After all, its a big deal to receive praise from a war hero," Randall drawled, shaking his head almost reluctantly, "But in the end, we must accept facts. You've turned your back on your own species, and for me, that is unforgivable. And combined with my duty to Cerberus, that leaves us at a crossroads, Shepard," the man then turned and faced Tali, "So how will this go, Mrs. Shepard? Will you fight or do this the easy way? The Illusive Man said that he'd prefer you alive, but has given me leeway to rough you up if I deem it necessary. Should I?"
The admiral's response was to wrack the slide back on her shotgun, and then pump it back forward, giving a familiar ca-chunk of the shell being loaded into the chamber; in this case, it was the plasma rod being inserted into the fusion chamber, "Very much. If you think I'm just going to give myself over, think again. I will never surrender to Cerberus, and I most certainly won't let you take me away from my yol'tiya. You'll just have to try and take me."
Randall didn't raise his rifle, and he gave no orders to move forward, "Mrs. Shepard, you misunderstand the situation. You will not die protecting your mate because you are outnumbered. You will be neutralized, and you will leave your mate either way; make it easier for yourself and simply lay down your arms. Humble yourself, or we must be forced to do it for you. Trust me, the former would be preferable."
Tali just chuckled bitterly, "That's just it. I don't trust you. Noone but a moron would trust Cerberus. And while your organization may have once stood for something, it doesn't anymore. You're a pack of fools, the lot of you. Following a madman trying to play God. You have no idea who you serve."
"Wrong," Randall immediately declared, raising his rifle once more, "We serve the shield of humanity, and we are the sword. The Alliance is too blinded by bueuracracy and Council diapers that they can't defend humanity effectively. They are corrupt. We are the sword. We are the shield."
"You're a pack of cowards in white and gold who claim to fight for the greater good and then try everything you can to prove otherwise," James spat in disgust, ignoring the dragoon's warnings to shut up, "You aren't humanity's sword. You're a dagger in our back."
"Poetic, but redundant," Randall dismissed, "Mrs. Shepard, this is the last warning I shall give you. Give up, I implore you. This will only hurt more than it should."
Marcus, angry and defiant, immediately pushed past Tali, summoning a tiny amount of energy and letting it siphon through his body. He used it to stand up, straightening his back and clenching his fists, ignoring Tali's protests as she too stood up. He narrowed his eyes at Randall, glaring.
"No, it'll only hurt me. Only way you're getting to her is through me. Don't you fucking walk in here and assume I'm just going to let you take my wife."
A shotgun landed on his shoulder, and he knew Tali had his back. She was the only one who was still armed with a projectile weapon. Marcus had his omni-blade, but he was too far away to do anything.
Randall just shook his head, "Captain, that is reckless and selfish, and you know it. You will only bring more harm to your wife in the long run."
"I will die to keep her safe, and I will most certainly burn before I willingly step aside and let you walk out of here with her," he spat, "The Illusive Man may think he's devious and smart, but this move of his? It's moronic. The orders he's giving you are downright suicide."
Randall looked around almost playfully, before shaking his head and turning back to Marcus with a careless expression, "Let's be honest, Shepard. Your wife is the only armed person in the room. I could have your entire squad killed with a single order, and as skilled as your wife is, I calculate that she will only be able to take down two of my men before we take care of her. And you? I very much doubt you will pose a threat, captain. I hear your experience in the consensus has left you less than combat capable."
Marcus sported a weak grin, desperately trying to put on a meagre mask of hubris and determination. It wasn't working; Marcus knew Randall was right. His cybernetics were barely keeping him standing, and he had almost exhausted what was left of his energy just standing up. In a straight up fight, Marcus was helpless. Totally useless.
Randall would kill me before I could close the distance fast enough to use my omni-blade.
But I have to do something. I can't just stand here and let this happen.
"He's got me," Tali stepped up, gripping her shotgun more tightly, "And I think you underestimate your abilities. I'm not some feeble pilgrim anymore."
Randall just shrugged, "I'm not a simple soldier, either. I'm a Cerberus manhunter; one of the best. Do you remember Septimus Oraka, captain?"
Marcus nodded, "Retired turian general who led the turian forces during the Occupation of Shanxi during the First Contact War. His wife was Sha'ira the Consort. He rejoined the military just before the Reapers attacked Earth. He disappeared just before Palaven was attacked. He was assumed to be a deserter."
"Which made it much easier for me and Cerberus to make sure he was never found," Randall declared, "General Oraka disappeared because I took him. Thanks to him, we've developed many biological and chemical weapons that we can use against the turians in any future war. And I managed to capture him on Palaven, in the heart of a military compound."
Marcus just shrugged, "Am I supposed to be impressed? Leng was an N7 special forces operative, just like me, with a ruthless reputation, and I've kicked his ass twice now."
"Leng lacks the patience and professionalism to get the job done. There was a reason he was discharged from the Alliance," Randall stated, squaring his shoulders, "I'm a former Corsair. My job requires precision and patience that Leng lacks. He's the attack dog that barks loudly to scare off those he targets. I'm the quiet cat; small, unseen and quick, and much smarter."
"All that establishes is that you're a pussy, puta," James jested, turning to look at Randall, "That's nothing to gloat about."
"To gloat and to state facts are two different things," the man declared, moving closer, rifle butt now pressed against his shoulder, "And what's a fact is that you're wasting my time. We have jested and played around long enough, and I have given you enough warnings."
"And I've ignored them long enough," Marcus growled, hand moving behind his back as he quietly activated his omni-blade, "If you want Tali, come and get her. I'll enjoy slicing your men in half."
"A pity," Randall tsked, shaking his head mournfully, "We could have done this peacefully. I have no desire to bring harm, but if necessity brings it, then have at it. I never fail my missions," he turned to the remaining men he had that weren't guarding prisoners, which were about six assault troopers, and ordered them forward, "Use stun rounds. Neutralize Shepard, and bring me his wife."
Marcus knew it was now or never.
As Randall turned to walk away, and his men moved to follow their orders, rifles beginning to raise, Marcus summoned new found energy, fueled by rage, and activated his omni-blade. In a whoosh and hiss of orange hardlight, he roared, charging forward. His advance startled Tali, but she nonetheless adapted, taking aim with her plasma shotgun and firing one burst at the closest assault trooper.
As Marcus moved, he watched the plasma flash and impact the nearest trooper. He watched as the soldier cried out, the plasma immediately melting through his armor and blowing a large, ragged hole through the abdomen, a loud hiss and smoke pouring from the open wound, smoked intestines falling out as the trooper desperately, and agonizingly, trying to push them back inside, smoke still pouring from the wound. Marcus effortlessly shoved him aside, and continued forward. James was on his feet, lashing forward and slapping the shotgun aside, before punching the dragoon across the face.
Keeling launched herself into a footsweep, the trooper watching over her falling onto his back as she quickly moved to stand up. Liara was still suffering from her migraine, but managed to kick her own captor in the shin, causing him to double over. Garrus launched his head back, slamming his head into the pistol and sending it flying upwards, shooting uselessly in the ceiling. He followed up by spinning around and grabbing the weapon, grappling with the nemesis to grab it. But, coupled with her cybernetics, she was not willing to part with it any time soon, and fought him inch for inch.
As Tali turned to deal with their next assailant, Marcus closed the distance between Randall and himself. Noting that the man had his back turned to him, Marcus quickly brought up his omni-blade and made the final charge, hoping to plunge the weapon into the man's back and sever his spine. He would then rip the blade from the man's back, spin around and hit his men from behind; starting with the dragoon. Neutralizing the squad's only biotic would definitely help them, and, assuming he was the one with the inhibitor, would allow Liara to use her own abilities.
I'm going to fucking end you!
He raised his omni-blade and slashed forward, hoping to bury it deep into the man's back, and slash through the spine. He could imagine the hot energy easily heating up and melting through the bone, marrow dripping down the untouched bone as his spine was cut cleanly in half, cutting off the brain connections that allowed the body's autonomy, and killing him instantly. Or so he hoped.
But before the blade could even get a meter from Randall, the man spun around, lightning fast.
There were two loud grunts as two omni-blades clashed in a mighty flash of light, the hardlight generating both sparking loudly and violently as they collided, causing a long, drawn-out hiss. Randall's eyes met his own; unaffected by anger or surprise. His eyes were complacent and without fear; he was not impressed or unprepared. It was almost like he had expected Marcus to to do what he did.
"Have at it then," Randall declared calmly; he was barely putting any effort into his work. The man clearly had combat-enhansive cybernetics.
Noting that both of them were in a stalemate, Marcus elected to break it. He immediately deactivated his omni-blade, causing Randall's blade to pass through empty air. Marcus then reactivated it, and charged forward once more, shouting a war cry. He slashed downwards this time, towards Randall's scalp, but the man effortlessly stepped to the side, causing the spectre to almost stumble past.
A rough kick rammed into Marcus' legs, and he fell to one knee. Knowing that Randall would most likely try to decapitate him, he let himself collapse onto his stomach. To his surprise, he did not hear the blade slice through the air he occupied; a matter of fact, he heard nothing. Confused, he rolled onto his back to see Randall standing over him, omni-blade held low. He did not make a sound, simply watching Marcus.
Noting that Randall was not moving any time soon, Marcus quickly shot to his feet, readying his own blade. Frowning, he spoke, "Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"
"The Illusive Man's goal is to demoralize you by abducting your wife," Randall reasoned, "There isn't much point if you're dead."
"So you can't kill me?" he quiered, tilting his head, "Your mission parameters don't allow it?"
"No," he replied bluntly, readying his own blade now, "But that doesn't mean I can't neutralize you as a threat. Have you ever heard of Aikido?"
"I have," Marcus declared, biting his lower lip, "And if you think you're going to knock me out, you're sorely mistaken." And with that, he summoned his biotics. The effort was unbelievable, but feeling the liquid blue flow over him left him feeling relieved beyond belief. Randall did not fail to notice this, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. He musn't have known I'm a biotic. The odds are tilted in my favor, then.
As hard as he could, he summoned a warp field, and shot it forward. However, it was so weak that Randall was able to simply strafe it, letting it harmlessly flop against the still open pod's interior. Behind Randall, Marcus could see Tali still fighting off the remaining assault troopers.
Growling, he sent another warp forward, but Randall escaped this as well, beginning to advance. Eventually, he was so close that Marcus was forced to swing down with his omni-blade.
But Randall had planned for all of it, and after simply parrying Marcus' arm, jarring it from the sheer force, he slammed his fist into Marcus' chest.
What followed was a pain of a magnitude he had only encountered in the consensus. Immediately, his head felt like it was going to explode, pressure seeming to come every direction as his skull almost seemed to press down against his brain. The agony caused him to give off a mini-scream, biting down on his tongue and drawing blood. The coppery tang in his mouth was nothing compared to the intangible agony that was filtering through his head. He didn't even feel himself fall to his knees, grasping his head as he tried to shut out the pain, mentally begging for it to stop.
His omni-blade deactivated on his way down, and Randall now stood over him, triumphant, retrieving his harrier from his back and taking aim at Marcus' head. The spectre himself didn't care that he had been beaten, only wishing for the hellish migraine to disappear. It felt as if a hurricane had been set off inside his skull.
He looked down during all of this, and immediately noticed it. A glowing blue disc was attached to the center of his armoured chest, pulsing blue. Every pulse sent a new lance of pain up through his brain, and from this, he was able to deduce what it was. A biotic inhibitor. Unlike the one that was used on Liara, which was a signal transmitted from the armor's systems and done over a certain radius, this one was a single unit that tapped into the victim's system and transmitted the signal locally. The tool of a manhunter uses on a target who's a biotic.
Despite how easy it would be to rip it off, or destroy it with his omni-blade, he couldn't bring himself to tear his hands away from his head. So it remained, and his agony continued as he watched his squad suddenly freeze, finally noticing Marcus' position.
Randall spoke, loud and confidently, "All of you, drop your weapons, now."
Garrus, who had finally taken the pistol from this captor, and had her on the floor with the pistol aimed at her head, immediately dropped his weapon, letting the nemesis get up and retrieve her pistol. Liara, without her biotics, had been defeated a few seconds ago, knocked unconscious from a rough punch to the face, one of her teeth having come loose and now on the floor, purple blood trailing it. She was still alive thankfully; her body moved up and down in time to her breathing, ragged though it was.
Keeling had been straddled upon her captor, who was on the ground, having removed the assault trooper's helmet and caved his face in from intense punching and assault. Red blood streaked across the ground and her armoured fists, the soldier's huskified face soaked in red with numerous broken ligaments, missing teeth and a blackened eye. Bruises had warped his mouth to the point where he likely wouldn't be able to open it, and some of the tubing had been torn from his face, leaving ragged holes where they should have been and shattered circuitry. Red blood covered and crusted on her visor, and the soldier's rifle hung limply in his right hand. Upon seeing Marcus' state, she unstraddled the trooper, who was remarkably still alive, but unable to move due to a broken ankle, and stood up, hands behind her head.
James, like Liara, had also been long defeated, now held in a stasis field by the very dragoon he tried to defeat.
And then there was Tali. Seeing Marcus the way she was, she immediately stopped firing, aiming her shotgun at Randall.
"Surrender, Mrs. Shepard," Randall implored, rifle unmoving and face dead serious, "I will not ask again. This charade has continued for long enough and play time is now over."
Tali did not budge, "You need him alive. You think I'm a fool? The only reason you're here to take me is to demoralize Marcus. And to demoralize him, you need him alive. So you won't kill him. But I can kill you."
Just as it looked like Tali would pull the trigger however, a pulse of energy slammed into her side. Her eyes widened as her entire body suddenly stopped in place, freezing up; now unable to move. Blue energy wrapped around her body, seizing control of every joint and muscle and rendering it immobile. Her finger remained around the trigger of her shotgun, but she was unable to press it. The only movement she was allowed was her eyes, wide as they were, and aimed directly at Marcus.
He could see the fear in them.
Randall turned to the dragoon responsible for putting her in the stasis, and turned to the rest of his men, "Ready tranquilizers. When the stasis drops, open fire. We need a quick extract; someone contact the pilot and tell him to meet us outside. We've got a package that needs delivery."
"If you think you're going to-" Garrus began to say, his captor now back behind him, pistol in much the same position.
"We will be leaving, Mr. Vakarian," Randall replied dryly, shaking his head, "And I assure you, this time, there will be no Shepard with Vakarian."
Desperately trying to speak, Marcus raised his voice, despite how much it worsened his already intense migraine, "Listen to me. You don't have to-"
"That is purely subjective, captain," Ezno declared, keeping his rifle raised as he slowly backed away, equipping stun rounds in case the spectre got back up, "What we don't have to and do have to do are entirely our own choice. And right now, I have chosen to aid Cerberus. If that brings bringing in your wife, so be it."
"He'll...hurt...her..." he groaned, trying not to meet Tali's eyes, as he didn't want to see the silent plea in them. Help me, it likely said. He refused to meet those eyes, and he knew it was the act of a coward, "...he's...that kind of man...he'll...experiment...on her..."
Randall shrugged, "If that is necessity, then so be it. You've created this nightmare for yourself, captain. The moment you left Cerberus, the moment you destroyed the Collector Base instead of saving it...all of this could have been avoided if you had simply opened your eyes. But now, we are forced to take the person you love. But do not fret; she will not be harmed unless its deemed absolutely necessary. And that is all based on your cooperation."
"She won't...go...quietly..." Marcus tried to speak again, "You...know that...already..."
"She doesn't have a choice, fortunately," Randall stated, "So far, she has proven to be more than a capable warrior. More capable than you, it seems. For instance, she wasn't foolish enough to try and fight me while fatigued and outgunned."
"I...will...find you..." he growled, finally turning to face Randall fully, "I...will never stop...looking for her...and when I do...if she's hurt...I will fucking gut you..."
"I have no doubt you will, captain. You're an industrious man, and when you're motivated, you certainly get results. More than I can say for most Alliance men," Ezno stated, simply looking down at him with a sort of sadness, "But, alas, it will not be today. Or for a while. We're terribly sorry it came to this, but-"
"I'm not," came another, new voice, one Marcus thought was hauntingly familiar, "And if you so much as lay a hand on her, you bosh'tets, I'll gut you."
Almost every single eye in the room landed on the new arrival. Marcus recognized him, although he didn't know where from or why. But the first thing that was blatantly obvious was that he was male, and a quarian at that. Not as tall or muscular as Kal, however; he was much smaller, and definitely not a military man; too skinny and meek to be a soldier. Despite all of this, the quarian held a Tempest SMG in his hands, surprisingly holding the weapon carefully and confidently with both hands; one held the front handle, while the other held the main one, one finger ready to pull the trigger. He was aiming directly at Randall, eyes wide in the look a quarian gave when angry.
Strangely enough, unlike most quarians, this one didn't wear a veil. His body was barren but for his suit, and his helmet unusually naked looking without a hood to cover it. The look was odd to Marcus, as he had never seen a quarian without a veil before. A veil was representative of a quarian's clan, which meant that no veil meant they-
Were without clan. This quarian was an exile.
Not many quarians got exiled, which led Marcus to only one possible conclusion. A conclusion that was only confirmed when the quarian spoke again, voice angry and furious, "Step away from Captain Shepard, right now."
Peta? What the fuck?
Garrus' reaction was just as surprised, but nowhere near warm, "By the spirits, what the hell are you doing here? Didn't I say I'd kill you if I ever saw you again?"
Peta just shrugged, chuckling slightly to himself, "That's going to be a bit hard, given that you're captured. But I'm here to fix that," he turned to look at Tali, his look only intensifying as he saw her in a stasis field. He growled, turning back to Randall, motioning his weapon in Randall's direction, "Release her. NOW!"
"Not too hasty. We haven't been introduced," Randall stated, lowering his rifle as he turned to face Peta. The quarian stepped backwards one step when Ezno did this, tightening his grip on the SMG slightly more, the metal creaking, "From what I can tell, you're well acquainted with Mr. Vakarian here. Negatively, I might add."
Peta nodded, "Your organization is the reason I'm in this position. You, and the damn Shadow Broker. I did something unforgivable."
"Uh...yes..." Randall began, hitting an epiphany, "You're the quarian who helped the late Captain Michael Gatpey attack the Migrant Fleet. Your name escapes me."
"Peta," the quarian simply answered.
Randall waited for him to continue, but when nothing was forthcoming, he continued, "What is your clan, Mr. Peta? Your ship?"
"I have none. I am clanless, and no ship will be prided on having known me," Peta replied, almost mournfully, "It was my fault. I tried to kill the woman I loved. A woman already claimed."
Randall connected the dots quite quickly, looking between Peta, Marcus and Peta. He nodded, raising his eyebrows, "I see; the dots are falling together. I see why your negativity is warranted, although it hardly matters. Why are you here, Peta? You owe these people nothing. Actually, if I recall, you tried to help captain Gatbey do the same thing I'm doing now, ironically enough. If anything, you should aim your weapon at Shepard. You should help us, Peta."
The quarian shook his head, determined, "I made a mistake. One I'll regret for the rest of my life. I was delusional back then, but I've changed. I will not be responsible for helping you hurt her again. This time, I'm going to fight on the right side. I may be exiled, but that's not going to stop me from doing the right thing. So, I'll say it again. Release her."
The response was a shaken head, a blank look on Randall's face, "In case you've failed to count, we outnumber you entirely. You can shoot me, but the rest of my men will put you down. I don't see what you hoped to accomplish here."
"How did you even know they'd be here?" Garrus spat, giving the quarian a suspicious look, "Forgive me if I'm not big on coincidences."
Peta just shrugged, "I was actually on my way to Haestrom to join up with the Migrant Fleet. I heard what you were doing here, and that my people were at war with the geth. I wanted to help. But then I ran into a Cerberus task force, and heard that a shuttle was departing to abduct Tali. So, I followed them. All the way here, in fact. Then I waited for the perfect time to reveal myself, which was now, apparently," he turned back to Randall, shaking his head, "You people have brought nothing but suffering to my people. You turned me into a monster; made me do things I never would have done."
Ezno simply shook his head, "I was working on a seperate facility when the raid on the Flotilla occurred. I can assure you I had nothing to do with it. My task is to hunt people down and extract them forcefully. I do not partake in assaults, and nor do I endorse killing civilians. So you'll excuse me if I'm not particularly regretful of that. Besides, from what I've read, you brought this on yourself. You helped the Shadow Broker infiltrate your Fleet."
"I was a monster," Peta gulped, shaking his head, "In some ways, I still am. I will never be the same again! Your Illusive Man took who I was and twisted it to meet his own ends! Not to mention the Shadow Broker! But don't worry, I plan to pay both in full."
Garrus just snorted, "Don't bother with the last one. The original Shadow Broker is dead now; we took him out."
Peta widened his eyes at that, "You...you did what? He's...he's actually dead?"
The turian nodded, voice less spiteful, "Well, her pet is. The real Shadow Broker turned out to be Tali's mother. It was her pet that worked behind her back with you," he motioned his head to Liara, who was still unconscious, "Liara's the new Broker."
Peta nodded, turning to Randall with a much more rigid stance, "You see? One bosh'tet has already paid for what he did. I'd say your boss is next."
Ezno was unfazed, sighing quietly, "Killing the Illusive Man is no simple matter. First, you must find him. And I very much doubt you will be able to."
The quarian just chuckled bitterly, something Marcus never thought he'd hear from the usually meek quarian. It was clear his exile had changed him, "For him, I'll make time. I will scour this galaxy until I finally repay him for the misdeeds he brought upon me. I may have orchestrated the attack, but your people carried it out. And for the last time, RELEASE HER! I will not ask again!"
Randall took a bold step forward, but only one, which caused Peta to noticably flinch, "Or what, Mr. Peta? I've already told you that the odds of you successfully saving Mrs. Shepard is almost null and void. My men and I outnumber and outgun you. Shepard and his own men will not be able to help you. So I ask again; what will you do? Is there some trick hidden up your sleeve that I'm not already aware of?"
Peta stuttered, hesitating in his response. When he spoke again, he shook his head, looking up to meet Randall's eyes fiercely, "Then I'll kill as many of you as possible."
The Cerberus manhunter just held up his hands, shaking his head in disappointment, "Alas, I expected you would have something much more than your spirit of will and love to drive you. I was hoping for a challenge. Still, I guess I shouldn't have expected much when I found a civilian shuttle following us."
Peta seemed to freeze then, a large gulp accentuating his throat as he subtly twitched. After a moment, he spoke, "...what?"
Randall just shook his head, turning to walk back to Marcus, still speaking, "Did you think you had us by surprise? No Peta, I was expecting you. We were expecting you. Ever since you followed us into FTS we've been watching you."
"But..." Peta stuttered, trying to find words to explain what had just been said to him. In the end, he stopped, and looked up, "...how?"
"Just before we entered FTS, the Williams detected your shuttle. However, before weapons could be bared, you had gone and followed us. So, they passed the discovery onto us, and told us to be ready. And here we are, ready for your arrival."
Peta just shook his head, beginning to take multiple steps away as he suddenly felt enclosed and trapped, "No, no that's not...I...you don't..." finally, he stopped several meters away, abruptly coming to a stop. He raised his head, a sudden determination in his head that impressed even Marcus, "No. No, this will not end here. You may know I was coming, but I can still kill you."
Ezno was not as shocked, "Again, you are outnumbered and outgunned. You will die if you push this. I would recommend not doing so."
Peta just grinned, beginning to pace, "I may be outnumbered and outgunned, but I've got one thing on my side: pride, determination and the most powerful weapon a person can have: regret. Do you have any idea what regret can make a person do? Any idea? Its more dangerous than revenge, and more realistic than love. A man who regrets everything will, in the end, regret nothing. You know what I am? A regretful man. I have regrets, many of them I might add, and I've done things that would make good people cringe! You may think me meek and weak, but I am stronger than you or all any of your soldiers! Because I have regret! I regret losing Tali! I regret hurting Tali! I regret not making friends with Shepard, and I regret becoming a monster! I regret my entire life."
Noone made a movement or so much as a word as Peta paced, SMG still in his hands, even Randall seeming to be entirely enthralled, "Every moment in our lives define us! Define who we are! Shepard is defined as a hero! You're a manhunter! You know who I am? Do you know what defines me? I am a representation of regret! Regret defines me now, and it will continue to define me! I will not bullied anymore! I will not be yanked around by outside parties, only to be used and discarded! I will kill the Illusive Man. I will kill you. And after I've killed you, I'm going to help my people retake the homeworld! And you know what? I regret not saying 'fuck you' earlier! Cerberus are nothing but terrorists, but just like all terrorists, you will be defeated. No, you will be destroyed. And even if I have to die, then I, at my core, am still quarian! And I will remember myself for having helped my people! I am Peta'Yala, AND I AM REGRET!"
With that, he raised his SMG, and took aim at Randall, directly at his head.
"And like I promised, my first movement to redemption is your death. If I have to die, so be it. At least I'll have taken you into the afterlife."
Randall shook his head apologetically, turning back to his squad, biting his lower lip, "Unfortunately, you will find your path into the afterlife very lonely."
Before Peta could say much else, a loud gunshot pierced the silence of the room. Peta doubled over as the shot slammed into his gut, a quick burst of blood spitting onto the ground. More blood followed, the large, ragged hole in his chest fountaining it out. Peta dropped his SMG, letting it clatter to the ground as he grabbed at his chest, desperately trying to close the wound, but only letting blood seep through his fingers onto the ground.
Peta only got one moment, and he chose to look up in horror at Marcus, eyes shocked at the sudden turn of events. Marcus could only look on sadly as another shot pierced the room, slamming through Peta's throat, and exiting out the other side in a spurt of red. The only sound that came from Peta's lips was a strained cry, cut off by the burst and being replaced by a piercing gurgle as blood likely erupted from his lips, staining the inside of his visor. His hands shot from his stomach to his ruptured throat, hot crimson fountaining from the entry wound. Marcus could only watch in barely contained horror as the quarian collapsed to the ground, still grasping his neck in a feeble attempt to save himself, blood quickly flowing across the deck. The only sounds were his futile attempts to breathe, which only came off as strained and sickening croaks and wheezes, interrupted by occassional spurts of blood.
And Marcus was completely helpless. The pain he was experiencing was beyond unbearable, and it rendered him totally inert, only able to look on as Peta bled out on the floor, irreversibly doomed. He looked up and saw Tali's eyes, noting that, while she wasn't able to speak, they did all the talking; she was watching Peta's body, and her eyes were widened in alarm. Thinking of the pain she must be in only heightened Marcus' sense of hopelessness.
One of the nemeses' at Randall's side lowered her rifle, satisfied with her kill. She leaned on her left hip, keeping her weapon in lower parry. Randall nodded approvingly, before turning back to Marcus. He didn't fail to notice the glare he was given on Marcus' face, the look of hatred almost palpable. Marcus just continued to glare, anger fueling his stare. I'm going to kill you, Randall Ezno. What is it that Aria said? That's right; you're now squarely ontop of my shit list.
Marcus was no fan of Peta. He supposed he still wasn't. But the man had just tried to save him; him and his squad. He had put his life on the line to try and save them, and had died in the process. Marcus still didn't like him, and he still despised him, but for that one act? Marcus could forgive him. Yes, he could forgive the quarian that had come into his home, stabbed his wife and gotten many civilians killed on the Rayya. He forgave him because he tried to change who he was. And could have potentially saved them...instead, he got gunned down like an animal for his efforts.
Randall arrived at his side, weapon lowered, with a shrug, "Mr. Yala should have known that his death was the only outcome of his foolishness," he only spared the dying Peta a mere glance before turning back, "But in the end, it ultimately doesn't matter. We will be leaving now, captain. We will be taking your wife with us. If you attempt to follow us, we will be forced to harm her to make an example. In other words, we advise that you do not. Don't make this any harder than it-"
"You will not be taking Creator Tali'Shepard."
No matter who had been concentrating where at that particular time, all eyes had now turned to their newer visitor...or at least, a visitor that had already been there, but thought dead. Legion was standing in the exact same place, but its body was now moving again, Marcus surprised to notice that the geth was now holding a pulse rifle in its hands, and had taken again at Randall. Its optics were glowing once more, and looking directly at its target.
Randall sighed, taking aim with his rifle, as did the rest of his men, "For a geth, you certainly seem to lack the capability to realize you are outnumbered. Mr. Yala failed to realize this, and is now in the process of dying."
Legion shook its head, remaining stoic, "We are not outnumbered."
Marcus frowned, wondering if the Reaper code in Legion's head had sent it insane. Or if Oblivion had taken control of it. I mean...surely it can't mean us? Tali and James are in stasis, Liara's unconscious, and I've got a paralyzing headache! We're no use to anybody!
Before anyone could say anything else however, the most terrifying sound he had heard all day resounded through the room; the sound of more pods opening.
Looking around him, he watched as pods, a dozen or more of them, began to open, their hatches elevating until stopping at the top. And, emerging from within, the platforms of geth.
To make matters worse, every single platform within the opening pods was a geth prime, the tall, 16 foot tall giants stepping out onto the floor, the three, red dots arranged in a triangle shape that represented their optics, turning towards them with what looked to be anger. Their dark red armor shined in the light, and the primes stooped down to pick up the pulse cannons that lay next to their pods. Randall's men quickly began to raise weapons, readying stun weapons in a futile attempt to combat their new aggressors. They were totally surrounded, Randall shouting orders as at least a platoon of geth primes came from all sides, readying weapons.
Marcus knew they would die. There was simply too many of them. At least Randall will die with us.
But to his surprise, the primes seemed to ignore the dying Peta, who was miraculously still alive, stepping past him towards the group. That confused him, as he expected the geth to kill the quarian. Why were they letting him live?
And to his continuing confusion, Legion didn't even seem to acknowledge them; all he did was press down on the trigger for its pulse rifle, Marcus watching as it roared to life, spitting out superheated rounds and speeds faster than any assault rifle any galactic government possessed.
And just like that, chaos filled the room.
The pulse rifle fire from Legion plowed into Randall's kinetic barriers, peppering them with high-velocity, quasi-plasma rounds. Randall likely had upgraded shields, as a standard issue military kinetic barrier would have cracked under the pressure at this point, and would have blown Randall away chunk by chunk. Marcus had seen first hand what a pulse rifle could do to a person; what it had done to Lance Corporal Richard Lenard Jenkins on Eden Prime. It had torn through his shields like they were made of paper.
Randall's held for a while though, but it was clear that they were withering. Randall returned fire, but geth specialized in kinetic barriers; Legion's held firm against his harrier, as powerful as it was, and at that point, Marcus saw the look in Randall's expression change; he knew he couldn't hold this position anymore.
While Randall quickly ducked behind one of the pods, using it for cover, the geth prime platoon began its slaughter of his squad. High-impact, bunker-busting plasma shells pounded the enemy, the geth primes acting as mobile tanks as they closed in, not even needing to deploy their full arsenal to dispatch the Cerberus squad. Marcus watched as the second assault trooper assigned to guarding Keeling was literally blown away like leaves on the wind, the plasma being so intense and powerful that it vaporized his face and upper torso, before tearing the rest of the flesh from his spine and scattering it along the ground, whatever meagre armor that had been left on his body either being fused to the remaining flesh from the heat, or simply melting away. What was left was just a pair of legs on the ground, with an exposed spine stretched out on the floor, little chunks of flesh hanging off it. The flesh itself hissed, smoke trailing from the blackened viscera. Blood boiled and popped along the ground, having either splattered Keeling or soaked the floor.
Four geth primes approached from behind, and Garrus immediately dove into a combat roll as the nemesis assigned to guarding him turned around, taking aim with her pistol. Before she could even get off a shot, the leading prime brought its arm down and swung it back up, the armoured appendage slamming into the nemesis' side and sending her flying like a ragdoll. Her head caught on the top of one of the open pod hatches, the momentum that sent her flying through it letting out a resounding crack, followed by her body spinning through the glass, shattering it and causing glass to rain down around the prime, who simply walked through it casually. Her body continued to fly until a loud thud could be heard three isles down. Her pistol soon followed it, having flown off in another direction.
Randall's two nemeses grabbed their rifles and managed to return fire on the twelve or so geth primes encroaching from the entrance side of the isle. Their rifles coughed and sputtered, muzzle flashes lighting up the pods around them, but they might as well have been tossing stones; the shots simply pinged of the prime's kinetic shielding; not even reducing them by a percentage. The prime itself let out a loud, angry electronic war cry before raising its pulse cannon, taking aim and firing.
Whilst the carnage continued around him, Marcus tried to shove past his pain and grab the inhibitor. But try as he might, the pain was simply too intense, and even thinking only increased his migraine. Is this how Kaidan feels everytime his implants flare up? Fuck me! The agony was becoming too much to bear, and it was starting to piss him off. He needed to get moving! Hell, if not to escape, to at least escape the heat. The firing of so many plasma weapons at once had heated up the room fast, and it soon became a steamy mess that left him sweating like crazy inside his armor.
Luckily, he needn't have bothered. Rolling to his rescue was Garrus, who quickly grabbed the inhibitor on his chest and tore it off, tossing it away. Marcus felt almost immediate, gradual relief as the migraine seemed to instantly evaporate, leaving him clear headed with only a dull ache to remind him that he had a headache at all. Letting his hands drop, he looked up to Garrus, who had once hand on his shoulder, yelling, "We need to get out of here! Grab your weapons and let's get out of here!"
Marcus shook his head, coughing, "No, no! We...we need to kill Randall! Where is he-"
Garrus shook his head, trying to roughly pull Marcus to his feet, "Randall's gone! He's likely run off! We need to get out of here! You can get revenge later!"
Acknowledging the turian's point, Marcus got to his feet, 'dusting himself off' so to speak before moving towards his weapons, trying not to get shot in the process. Legion had since disappeared, likely in pursuit of Randall. I hope he kills the fucker.
Just as he was moving for his pod, and Garrus towards Tali, the stasis surrounding her dropped. Her muscles having seized up from being frozen for so long, the quarian admiral almost collapsed to the ground, shotgun falling from her limp fingers and clattering to the ground. Garrus managed to catch her however, and threw one of her arms around his shoulder. Turning to see Marcus looking on worriedly, he waved a dismissive hand, "She's fine! Get your weapons so we can get the hell out of here!"
Nodding, he quickly dove for his weapons and began slotting them back. First his claymore, then his SMG, then his pistol. Finally, he grabbed his pulse rifle and checked the thermal clip before grabbing his helmet and slotting it back on. Just as his HUD was booting up however, he heard a loud crash right beside him, and looked up to see the body of the dragoon on the ground. Shortly after, a prime appeared and raised its foot before bringing it down, stomping on the dragoon's head. The foot crushed the dragoon's helmet and skull like it was made of putty, brains and gore exploding everywhere at once as the man's head was reduced to a pancake. Limp pieces of flesh and blood caked the prime's foot, but it didn't seem to care as it turned and continued the skirmish, brutally slaughtering the Cerberus squad like it was nothing.
Behind the prime, Keeling and James got up, grabbing their respective weapons and preparing to fight back. But they could barely get up; James was much like Tali, and Keeling had used alot of her energy reducing her first guard's head to a pulp. And then Marcus saw Peta...still somehow alive, still choking on his own blood, but his movements becoming less erratic, more limp. An occassional spurt of blood would squirt from his throat as he tried to breathe.
He doesn't have long...
By the time he got up and turned around, it was all over. The entire room had been turned into a bloodbath. Blood, gore and viscera covered the ground and pods from left to right, some of it dripping, drying or flowing across the floor...and the smell. The bloody smell. The stench was intense. Not only could he still taste the blood from his bitten tongue in his mouth, but the smell of boiling blood, cooked gore and roasted flesh permeated the room. Some of the bodies were still cooling down, the corpses superheated to the point where they were literally boiling inside. He even saw the odd piece of bone lying in the blood pools, and the place looked like it had been raining the stuff. The sight would have made him sick, if he hadn't seen a similar sight already on Torfan.
There was nothing left of Randall's two nemeses' to identify. They had literally been reduced to bloody smudges on the walls, with only their feet left to recognize them, still standing where they had been standing when they died. The only living things in the room were Marcus and his squad. Tali had recovered long enough to stand, and Garrus had scooped Liara up in his arms, who was still out cold. Legion was still nowhere to be found.
And surrounding his squad on all sides were just over thirty geth primes, weapons levelled and ready to fire upon them.
Marcus raised his pulse rifle, but he knew there was no escaping this. Instead, his squad began to converge on the middle, ready to make a final stand. The Cerberus squad had been butchered within less than thirty seconds...Randall was likely dead too now. His squad, as professional as they were, were not getting out of here with anything less than a miracle. But they would make their deaths count. Marcus had a few grenades; he would at least take down one or two of the primes.
Eventually, the squad converged on each other. Garrus was on his left, still holding Liara, unable to fight back. He looked to be mumbling something in turian; the sound was a mixture of what sounded to be coughs and grunts. Whatever he was saying, it was likely not good. Tali arrived on his left, having retrieved her shotgun and leaning slightly against him, favouring her left hip. James and Keeling were behind them, weapons raised.
"So, this is it," Tali groaned.
He raised his rifle, but managed to lower one hand to squeeze hers, "This is it. Make every shot count."
The quarian raised her weapon with new purpose, "I will. Ni se'miel, Marcus."
He nodded sadly, and let go of her hand, grabbing the trigger of his weapon, "Ni se'miel, Tali. I-"
"Wait, what are they doing?" Garrus exclaimed.
It was then that Marcus noticed they weren't dead yet. He shouldn't even have had time to say goodbye; they should have been blown apart by now. Why were they still alive?
And then they all saw it; the primes stopped their advance, now completely surrounding them, and after a few seconds, did something absolutely baffling.
They lowered their weapons, and holstered. Not only this, but they all seemed to make a low, barely audible synthetic warble before all, in perfect tandem, crouching onto one knee, arm splayed down on top of it in a...gesture of fealty?
"Okay, loco," James began, clearly irritated by all the fucked up things that were happening, "Why the fuck are they kneeling? We should be dead."
Marcus lowered his rifle, getting the feeling they weren't in any danger, as nonsensical as it sounded, "Your guess is as good as mine, James," Tali, trusting him, lowered her own as well, but James and Keeling remained armed, "Guess we'll find out."
The sound of footsteps, metal thudding against metal constantly, could be heard from behind the primes. From where he was standing, he could see them parting to let someone through. And just as the person arrived, the front line of the primes parted, and walking through, approaching them with weapon holstered, was Legion, its form dwarfed by the primes surrounding it.
The geth infiltrator came to a stop before him, "Shepard-Commander, was our timing impeccable?"
Marcus just frowned, scoffing for a moment as he opened his mouth to say something. Finally, after a moment, he let his rifle magnetically clamp to his front hip before reaching up and tearing off his helmet. Pinning it under one arm, he went up into Legion's optics and just chuckled, "Timing? Impeccable? Legion, in case you haven't noticed, we are surrounded by geth primes."
Legion's headflaps shifted for a moment, before nodding, "We have not failed to notice our current predicament."
Garrus answered this time, "So if you're our rescue party, then I sure hope you have a Cain on you, because there is alot of primes."
"You do not need rescuing, Vakarian-Archangel," Legion declared, optics remaining directly on Marcus, "This is because these primes are not hostile and do not mean us harm. They wish to help us."
His frown disappeared entirely, Marcus' expression replaced by one of surprise. Instead of relaxing, the entire squad tensed up, but not out of apprehension...but just out of sheer surprise. Finally, Marcus managed to blurt out, "Wait, what?"
Legion nodded, gesturing to the primes surrounding them, "When we accessed the core knowledge of the geth, we came into contact with numerous geth programs and runtimes that were not as extensively afflicted by the Old Machine code as other programs were. In effect, these programs were not extensively upgraded as the rest were, and I was able to purge them off the infection using a similar variant of the virus you used in the consensus. These geth were freed of the Old Machines and were able to reject them. They oppose the Old Machines. They are our allies."
Marcus just looked up as one of the geth primes stepped forward from the group, coming to stand just behind Legion, its optics looking down on Marcus. As it spoke, he noted its electronic voice was much more high pitched than Legion's, and much deeper. More intimidating, "Shepard-Commander, we are platform runtime 0000005319516678. Platform Runtime 000000204, who refers to itself as Legion, has designated us with the name Moses. We reject the Old Machines. The geth will achieve their own future, while the Old Machines believe they can force it upon us. We shall not let that happen. We will assist you in whatever capacity is necessary to free us from their control and return the Creators peacefully to Rannoch."
Marcus nodded, but frowned, not so much at the prime's declaration, but at his name. Turning to Legion, he raised an eyebrow, "'Moses?' Why did you call it that?"
Legion seemed to think for a second, looking for an adequate reason. After a moment, it finally looked back to him and shrugged, "EDI once named us from a human biblical text. The name was appropriate as it was meant to represent the number of programs within our platform. We chose to continue this tradition. In your Torah, Moses is the organic who led his people from Egypt in an event known as the Exodus. When we entered the knowledge core, it was Platform Runtime 0000005319516678 that first chose to assist us and reject the Old Machines. It subsequently led other programs to adopt this way of thinking. It lead them on an Exodus away from the Old Machines. We deemed the name appropriate."
"Fair enough," Marcus declared, looking up at the machine. I can't believe I'm about to call a geth by a biblical figure from my religion that died thousands of years ago, "So Moses, you want to help us destroy the Old Machines? How much?"
Moses response was immediate, "We will not rest until every Old Machine is eradicated. They are a virus upon galactic society. The geth wish for peace with the creators; the Old Machines would rather have us to destroy them. Their concepts and ideals are parasitic. They are a threat to our existence as much as your own. They cannot be allowed to continue existing. They must be annihilated."
The sheer passion; the determination and fervour in its voice sounded almost impossible for its own implexions, but there you go. Moses was not lying; and the primes seemed to listen intently to Moses, their headflaps moving in agreement. When it finished speaking, they all let out a loud electronic war cry; roaring their agreement.
Marcus looked to Garrus, and did not fail to notice the smile growing on Garrus' mandibles.
Marcus mirrored it.
He turned back, looked Moses in the optics, and nodded.
"Then welcome to the war, Moses."
"Keelah, I was so terrified. Being surrounded by all those primes..."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"Hard to think many of them became agricultural support units and labour assistants after the War."
- Reia'Inas pav Earth.
"Is Moses still around?"
- Marcus Shepard.
"Yes, he is. And he's still my personal bodyguard. Absolutely devoted to me, for reasons I still don't quite understand."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"I wouldn't be complaining. Having a geth prime bodyguard? Even a krogan would think twice before messing with you."
- Marcus Shepard.
"So what happened next? Obviously you recruited the geth prime platoon, but what happened after? When did you hit the Reaper signal?"
- Reia'Inas pav Earth.
"Not long after. But first, we had an unlikely hero to mourn..."
- Marcus Shepard.
A/N:
Yep, that was a monster of a chapter. To be honest, I never thought it would get this ridiculous. I was hoping that it would be short enough to fit in Peta's little segment, but obviously not. Worry not; I'll save that for the next segment. And before you guys ask, yes, Randall did survive the geth platoon ambush. While he's not going to be an extensive villain, he'll be present during most of the times the Deliverance appears. And unlike Leng, I plan for him to be a much more calm, patient and calculating villain; he doesn't make mistakes often, and he's very polite.
Also, to confirm whatever suspicions you might have, Randall Ezno is indeed the same main character from Mass Effect Infiltrator. Obviously I've twisted what little character he has to suit my own needs, and alot of his background, but at least some of it is similar, so there's that.
Anyway, I'll see you guys next chapter!
Keelah Se'lai, troopers!
