Chapter 51: Until My Legs Give Out From Underneath Me

The unexpected blow Neve leveled at Dakan left his gut aching through his armor. He sat up and his jaw hung open at the mountain of debris piled where Neve once stood. His insides became leaden and light all at once.

Neve where is Neve get to Neve save Neve.

Clawing to his feet, he darted forward then skidded to a stop. Geth clambered over the rock pile, intrigued by the new access in the Zakera Junction barrier. Dakan reached for a weapon at his back, grasped empty air. The hopper geth, aptly named by officer Sirrus, had destroyed his sniper rifle and he'd lost his assault model when Neve had cast him from her side. Pivoting, he scanned the immediate area. No assault rifle.

Synthesized chittering from the rubble pile flared Dakan's mandibles. He tipped up his head fringe at a geth trooper descending the mountain that spotted him. The geth had its weapon ready but un-aimed. Its face bulb flashed up and down Dakan's length. Another trooper joined it. And another. Though he couldn't say why, Dakan sensed deliberation between them, like his fate hung on their consensus.

What can I do with no weapon?

Dakan stole a glance behind him. Geth blocked any retreat he might divine. New synthetics filed from the relay monument. Thus far, C-Sec had been unable to destroy the portal. Keepers and the strongest synthetic forces defended it. That maddening claxon from the black warship turned away all C-Sec soldiers who managed to get close to the fountain.

Standing there, waiting for geth action was foolish. Dakan had no long range weapons, but his armor and energy shield could stand a final assault. If he couldn't rip and tear and claw his way to Neve, he'd die trying.

Booted feet scraped the tile like an angry bull's hooves. Dakan gnashed his teeth at the trio of geth, roared, and took off. Arms pumped at his sides. Knees came to his chest. Feet propelled him forwards and his head fringe sliced the air. The geth reacted to the charge, melded into combat formation. Their rifles trained on Dakan. Three round black holes at the end of long barrels stared him down then flashed white.

Tiny, lethal projectiles battered Dakan's energy shield. Each impact caused a wave of static to run up and down the kinetic barrier's perimeter. Each impact depleted the kinetic shield's power until Dakan made his final run to Neve with only his battered and gapped hardsuit protecting him. Bobbing and weaving and swerving, the turian avoided shots to his head and central mass. For a time. The closer he came to the geth, the more shots they landed. A stream of projectiles directed at his cracked chest plate split the armor in two. The front portion of the versaplast carapace fell away. The next volley caught his bare chest. His natural body armor, forged from eons of survival on Palaven and its metal poor core, could deflect a single shot, perhaps two or three at most. Under the assault of three geth armed with automatic weapons, his plates failed.

Super heated projectiles shredded Dakan's chest, lodged in the metal armor covering his delicate flesh. Rounds bored into his naked torso. Gouts of blue blood poured from the tiny punctures. Miniature slugs of metal tore his insides, leaving trails of agony like molten worms burrowing through his entrails. Dakan faltered, gasped. Blood coughed up his throat. Heavy breaths came wet and stuttered. Less than three feet from the rock pike, he fell. His face busted against the tile.

Shouts and weapons' reports from the barricade's direction let him know that the C-Sec forces stationed there were still active, still in the fight. If Dakan couldn't get up he was out of it. His body lurched with his efforts towards motion. Weak and heavy arms refused to move, let alone support his weight. He made a slopping sound when his body slapped back down on the tile. Blood caused the slopping. He lay in a growing puddle of it.

Get up. Get up. You're going to die if you don't get up. So will Neve.

The thought gave his will a steroid booster and infused his torn muscles with enough strength to at least turn over. Just in time to see the geth come over him, rifle aimed at his face. The machine's face bulb shone in Dakan's eyes. He squinted. Why wouldn't the damn thing shoot?

Because it knows it doesn't have to. It knows it's won.

Dakan growled at the gleaming synthetic towering above him. He had to be wrong. Machines didn't savor pain. Machines felt nothing. They were machines. So, why did it hesitate? Cock its head from side to side like it scrutinized him? Supposedly, the organic experience meant nothing to geth and, supposedly, synthetics didn't make mistakes. This one did. Hesitation was a mistake. It should have shot and left Dakan's steaming carcass behind. Because it didn't, the Alliance vehicle that came from who the hell knew where ran it down, barely missing Dakan who tensed as it growled passed.

The crunch and squeal of metal goaded Dakan to his elbows. Burning rubber tainted the air. The scent made his nose crinkle. His arms wobbled under the strain of his weight. He staggered upright before his body shut down. The vehicle that almost crashed into the rest of the consumer complex was a Mako, an Alliance heavy combat vehicle. The mangled forms of crushed geth lay under its wheels. Dirty smoke billowed from the vehicle's body. Where had it come from?

Clutching his torso, Dakan angled in one direction, then the other. The relay monument…it was a jumble of metal shapes drooping into the fountain's shallows. The Mako must have traveled through the gate, torn it up in the process. The vehicle destroyed all the geth in its path as well, leaving the way to Neve clear for Dakan.

Step by agonizing step, Dakan trudged to the mound of boulders and gravel that covered Neve. The turian's insides sloshed painfully. Toes squished in boots an inch full of liquid that should have been in his veins. The rock pile, the Mako, and the tile swerved off kilter. Dakan swerved with them and took a header into the debris. He coughed blue onto the pale stones and couldn't get up.

"Shepard. Shepard, we've got wounded."

"There's wounded everywhere. Not our priority."

The voices were turian, human respectively. Tall shadows cut the light Dakan blinked through. The bulkier shadow bent over Dakan. Light from an activated omni-tool revealed the shadow's identity. Navy colony markings colored the turian's silver-gray face plates. Icy blue eyes assessed Dakan's injuries. Strong hands flipped him over.

"Ah," the turian said and hovered his omni-tool over Dakan's perforated torso. The touch of a palm to his wounds made him shudder.

"Relax, officer," the turian said. "This will help."

Soothing warmth spread over and through Dakan's torso. All his muscles uncoiled. He flowed onto the rubble which supported him, coasting on a wave of delirious pleasure. Intense itching around his entry and exit wounds had him grumbling. The irritating sensation dragged him from the wondrous current.

"Leave it alone," the turian smacked Dakan's ready-to-scratch talons away from his gut. "They won't heal if you poke them. Get ready for the adrenaline booster."

Dakan twitched at the small pinch at his neck. While what was surely medi-gel warmed and healed his stomach, an ice water flood of adrenaline surged through his chest. The booster jump-started his heart and mind. Dakan's thoughts raced. A name flashed at the forefront of his brain like a blinking overheat icon.

Neve. Neve. Neve. Neve. Neve.

Leaping from his prone state, Dakan scrabbled to a place on the rubble heap he thought best approximated Neve's postion. Rocks and pebbles click-clacked down the pile as he tossed them away.

"Neve! Neve, can you hear me?" A biotic shield covered his dancer when the building collapsed. It could have protected her from the worst, kept her alive.

"Garrus." A human female's gruff voice carried to the top of the pile. "Liara's ready. Let's go!"

An extra pair of taloned hands joined Dakan in his work. Garrus Vakarian, Dakan recognized him now, called over his shoulder to his commander.

"Push ahead. Trust me, Shepard. I'm faster than both of you. I'll probably beat you to the tower. I know I'm the better shot. Try to at least hold Saren back before I get there and handle everything."

When she spoke again, Shepard's voice was distant. "You're the better shot when you stand in front of me and block all mine. I'm trusting you on this one, Vakarian. Don't let me down."

Chuckles puffed out the former C-Sec officer's mandibles. "Never," he said under his breath.

The turian pair plowed a significant dent in the rubble in a short time. The pile wasn't as dense as Dakan expected. Jutting beams from the crumbled structure formed pockets of space in the heap.

"You should go with your commander," Dakan said while they labored inside a pocket that would likely fit two additional turians. "Saren's capture is of greater importance than the life of one human."

"You don't believe that," Garrus said and huffed, lifting a large boulder out of place. "I hear it in your sub-vocals. Besides, Shepard only needs me for the tough missions. This is a walk in the Commons." Garrus paused, tilted his head. "Hear that?"

Dakan held his breath and craned up his neck. The gentle clack of shifting stones signified movement. Along with Garrus, Dakan tilted his head and leaned in different directions, searching for the source. The ex C-Sec officer dropped into a crouch and wedged his talons under a large segment of a former balcony.

"Here. Help me lift this," he said as he strained.

Combining their efforts, Dakan and Garrus hefted the structure out of the way. More stones lay under the massive chunk. And fingers. Two blood-tacky fingers. They peeked from the dust and rubble like slender, red blotched stalks. They curled at the first knuckle as though weakly beckoning to them.

Dakan pounced on the pile next to the first sign of life. Like a varren burying a kill for later consumption, he burrowed into the pebbly terrain. With Garrus' aid, they'd soon unearthed Neve's arm, then the other. Faint moaning whispered from the ground like wisps of steam.

"I can take it from here," Dakan said between huffs and grunts. "Go meet your commander."

Garrus stayed put, kept hand shoveling. "You have the shot of medi-gel she'll need?"

"No."

"Then you need me."

Dakan gritted his teeth. "C-Sec needed you." They uncovered the top of Neve's head. The stones they now moved were red spattered. The sight made Dakan's movements hurried and clumsy.

"C-Sec held me back."

"You abandoned your duty on a whim."

Garrus' soft laughter had Dakan cursing. "No. I followed my true duty. It wasn't with C-Sec. From the looks of it, your loyalties don't align entirely with Citadel Security or you'd be with your battalion, not excavating one human woman from an early grave."

"She's a Citadel resident. I'm supposed to protect her."

"Keep telling yourself that." Garrus turned his head and Dakan thought he heard, "I always do."

Neve's head rocked back. Squiggly red lines spider webbed her face. Her eyes rolled white. Bloody spit stained her teeth and dribbled from her cracked lips. Gravel slid down the trough they dug, revealing most of the dancer's upper half which was covered in ugly purple-red marks and deep scratches. Dakan hooked his hands under her arms and tugged. Awful wailing stopped him. Neve quieted when he released her.

"She's pinned," Garrus said. He slapped a massive boulder next to them. Throwing his weight against the stone sent it rocking. Neve tensed in Dakan's arms and cried out. The detective started up. Garrus waved him back.

"I can move this on my own. It'll be painful for her. Hold tight and I'll be quick with the medi-gel and a pain dampener."

Dakan dropped an arm around Neve's chest and about her shoulders. He lowered his chin to the curve of her neck and whispered.

"It's alright, Neve. Just a little pain and it'll be over."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth when Garrus toppled the boulder off Neve's leg. She screamed. Dakan held her tight as convulsions arched her back. The dancer passed out and went slack. Cupping her chin in one hand, Dakan checked her pulse. It was there. Faint, but there.

"What's going on down there?" Dakan asked, glancing over Neve's shoulder at Garrus who busied himself over the dancer's injured leg. An omni-tool glided over and obscured the extent of the damage. When the former C-Sec officer rose, Dakan uttered a pained noise and hugged Neve to his chest.

"I don't know how much if any can be salvaged," Garrus said. His mandibles wilted. "I'll send a recovery team your way. The medi-gel's stanched the blood flow. Hopefully, she'll stay out. Better for her." Garrus started climbing out of the pile when Dakan called to him.

"Vakarian."

The turian angled his head over his shoulder.

"Thank you. Don't let Saren escape."

Garrus' brow plates came together. "Never." Then the other turian was gone to back up the human Spectre to which he'd pledged his loyalty.

Dakan touched his forehead to the top of Neve's dusty skull. Maybe he had more in common with the ex-officer than he liked to believe.