May 12th 2184 CE 07:43
Every dock aside from Eighty-Two and Fifty-Four was occupied. Garrus split his team up, leaving Sensat and Krul on the North Side with Butler and Ripper covering the South. If the Ubralle came to Omega for repairs, they'd know the second the ship pulled in. They didn't have to wait long.
Sensat's com crackled to life. "Ship incoming."
"Hold position until we get some identification."
"Ubralle. Confirmed."
"On my way." Garrus nodded to the two humans who'd taken up sniper positions on the catwalks. The trio quickly made for The Northern docks where they laid in wait, well hidden atop their perch. The humans were practically buzzing with anticipation, particularly Butler. Every muscle in the man's flabby body was taut, his hands rigid against the sniper rifle. Sensat was making some last minute preparations with his grenades. But Krul caught his eye. For the first time since the batarian's recruitment, Garrus started seeing beyond the school-boy tech persona. He was calm, cool as a cucumber. Garrus had only seen that kind of pre-battle patience in hardened veterans. This was a man who'd seen his share of war and bloodshed.
However, it had been thirty minutes since the Ubralle docked and there was no sign of anyone disembarking. "Damnit." Garrus hissed. "They must be radioing in maintenance instead of leaving." As if on cue, two techs, a batarian and a human, strolled towards the Ubralle. "We're taking these guys prisoner."
"It'd be easier to just shoot them." Ripper moaned.
"No civilian casualties. That's our number one rule. How many darts did you prepare?"
"Twenty each. Have plenty." Sensat answered.
"Good. Let's knock these two out then hide them on the catwalks."
The salarian raised a wooden, cylindrical contraption to his mouth and took aim. With two short, silent puffs the darts nailed their targets. The techs teetered and spun wildly, searching for their assailants. Less than thirty seconds passed before the duo fell unconscious. Once both techs were hidden safely in their former position above the docking bay, Garrus and his men gathered at the Ubralle's airlock. "Alright. Sensat set the charges. Let's crack her open. Watch your fire men. Everyone have their dart guns?" Following the murmur of assent, they cleared the blast zone.
Garrus had to hand it to Sensat. Despite being limited by the few crude ingredients he could find and a bare-bones lab setup beneath the base, the man had fabricated some powerful detonators using sulphuric acid, glycerol, rocks, and a cooling procedure. He drilled into the rocks, making room for his volatile mixture. Then he used a gentle cryo-freeze as he meticulously blended and transported the concoction into primitive, makeshift detonators.
And boy did they get the job done. When the smoke cleared, Garrus could see the airlock hanging at a jagged angle. He pressed into what was left of the door and it completely gave way. "Weapons hot. We're going in. Remember all batarians on this ship are slavers and part of The Hegemony. Show no mercy for they won't show you one lick."
They were met with immediate resistance. But as luck would have it, the airlock lead into a large room with plentiful, heavy cargo. "Scatter and take cover. I'm on point." He could feel his men depart, diving behind the various freight. From his position, Garrus spotted three armed men advancing. They moved in coordination, clearly disciplined. Damnit. These aren't soft targets. We've got soldiers. Well, men time to see what you're made of. Let's hope all that training pays off. He raised his rifle and picked off the first in the pack. As the body fell, the two batarians at his flank hit the floor. "Captain! Hostiles in the cargo bay! It ain't a malfunction."
"Put 'em down."
Fat chance. Garrus lunged from behind cover and landed gracefully on one's neck. He squeezed the trigger with the muzzle of his gun laid against the batarian's temple. Clumps of gray and red showered across the floor. The third fell with a thud, taken out with a perfect head-shot by one of his team. "Nice shooting! Alright men, we have more incoming. They know we're here now. Let's give 'em a show!"
They had a perfect view of the elevator from their position and it quickly became a kill-zone as a result. From the moment the doors slid open, the batarians were met with a cascade of gunfire. The few who escaped and managed to take cover were quickly harassed by Grundan's drones, leaving them vulnerable to the waiting snipers.
"Whoooweee! You see that old man?" Ripper bellowed. "That's how the big shots do eet!"
"Got two under my belt you punk."
"Aaaaand there's five lard-ass." Ripper retorted as the latest body fell.
"None of you would be hitting shit if my drone wasn't flushing them out of cover." Krul grumbled.
By his count, fourteen men were dead. But Garrus was certain more were on their way. Suddenly, the onslaught of soldiers ceased. "Alright men. Stay sharp."
"Why? There's none left." Butler muttered.
"No. They've stopped mindlessly pouring out of the elevator. They're using their brains now. Get ready."
Sure enough, when the doors hissed open an entire squadron of batarians greeted them with broad shields, sheltering them from gunfire. "Sensat!" Immediately, the salarian lobbed a grenade toward the commandos. However, the tightly packed group simultaneously lunged forward, shields moving in one fluid motion. As a result, the blast didn't cause more damage than a few charred feet which was rapidly being addressed.
"Oh, crap." Butler muttered
"Boss? Orders? Or, you know, ideas?" Ripper was attempting to mask his anxiety through snark.
"Rotate positions as much as you can, keep them confused. Butler stay in cover with your sniper rifle. Take opportune shots. Krul, bring in another drone. Leave the rest up to me."
Garrus began leaping from cover to cover. Ducking from gunfire and dodging shells the batarians were using to drive him from any hard-won refuge, he slowly pressed forward. The plan was to trick the commandos into revealing their vulnerable backs to his team. If he could keep them focused on himself, and his squad continued switching up positions, they'd put them down eventually.
"There are eight total." Garrus growled. "Focus on breaking their line. Let's try and split them up. Pair some tech attacks with another grenade." As an explosion rocked the ship, it caught two of the commandos off guard. While they only dropped their shields for a moment, it was enough. Krul discharged a series of electrical jolts sending the batarians to their knees shrieking and writhing in agony as their flesh rapidly cooked inside their armor. Taking advantage of their comrades' momentary distraction, Garrus lunged forward positioning himself behind their line. Three of the remaining commandos spun around to meet this advancing threat only to have his team fill their vulnerable backsides with enough lead to pop a tank. The three remaining were beginning to panic. From his position, Garrus could hear their frantic screeches into their coms "Who the fuck are these guys?!"
"A bunch of dead assholes." A batarian Garrus assumed was the captain came swooping down from some overhanging rebar, the action was reminiscent to his own tactics. This guy was trouble.
The captain landed next to his commandos and brought up a protective, biotic field. "On me men!" For a moment, Garrus's heart leaped to his throat. The batarian leader was barreling towards Butler's position guns blazing, flanked by three battle-hardened soldiers. Frank's distraught voice crackled over the com. "What do I do? What do I do?"
"Hold position. I'm coming, just hang on. Ripper whip out those blades. This is you and me." Garrus took a running leap towards a stack of crates, sliding effortlessly across the tops. However, Butler was panicking, gunfire bounced off the commander's biotics. "Focus on the lackeys, not the leader." With their shields occupied by Frank's frantic barrage, Garrus put two in the back of one's skull while Ripper's omni-blade sliced clean through the another's neck. They simultaneously rolled in opposite directions taking cover on either side of the remaining two batarians. Crouching low, Garrus nodded to Ripper and he shot out, deeply cutting through the tender flesh behind of the last remaining commando's knee. The batarian shrieked and dropped to the ground leaving the captain accessible. Despite knowing the biotic barrier would deflect his shot, Garrus took it. His intention was to pull the captain's focus away from his vulnerable squadmate.
The captain whipped around, unleashing a torrent of biotics at the turian's last position. But Garrus was too fast. He leaped behind a small tower of crates as a cascade of blue came crashing down. "Show yourself asshole and I'll grant you a quick death."
Laughter rolled off his chest. "Are you joking? You realize you've lost right?"
"We'll see about that." Suddenly, the crates Garrus was sheltering behind went soaring in a haze of blue.
The turian dove behind another set of freight unscathed. "You're going to have to do better than that." Garrus snatched a long forgotten wrench and tossed it behind a cluster of crates perpendicular to his own. It landed with a resounding clank, drawing the captain's ire. The batarin's biotics lashed out at this misguided target and Garrus closed in from behind.
"The fuck do you even want?!" The captain bellowed.
Garrus grabbed him by the back of the neck and spun him around. "To make you pay for everything you've done, filthy slaver." When the life was choked out of him, Garrus turned to check on his team. "It's alright. Come on out."
Butler was gasping, his hand shook violently as he leaned over and vomited across the floor. "Shit. Thought I was done for."
Ripper snorted. "You's nearly was. When we's gonna get this old timer back to base with his fuckin' prune juice?"
Garrus shot the young ex-merc a severe look. "That's enough." Turning to Butler, he placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "Frank you did me proud today."
"You're" Butler was panting between every word "jus….sayin'... that."
"No. Those men were closing in on you and you stood your ground. You never stopped shooting and you never ran. That is true grit. And because of that, Ripper and I had managed to sneak around and take them by surprise."
The little pep-talk seemed to strengthen Frank's resolve. He gripped his rifle and nodded up at Garrus.
Krul was turning the dead over onto their backs and rummaging through their pockets. Garrus had never seen someone so malicious towards their own kind before this guy. These were soldiers of The Hegemony, not a bunch of delinquent mercs. While he trusted Krul with his life, he expected at least some indignation from the man. And hadn't he served in the military? Whatever. He could figure out the mystery that was Grundan Krul another time. There were more pressing issues at hand.
"Alright. Let's start searching for the slaves. We have someone who's going home today."
"Shouldn't they be freaking out?" Frank muttered incredulously. "They're so calm. Look at that one over there she's sweeping for fuck's sake."
They had arrived on deck three. The slaves were being kept in a small room without a single lock or safeguard. Most were standing idle, staring at the intruders, yet seeing nothing at all. Their eyes held only emptiness.
"Yeah they've been chipped awhile. Makes them docile." Krul shrugged. "Never seen 'em have more than a shred of self-awareness past two or three years.
Garrus shuddered. It almost reminded him of the indoctrinated salarians Shepard gunned down in that lab of horrors on Virmire. They were penned in, with no chance of escape. While Wrex vehemently agreed that Shepard was doing the right thing, Garrus couldn't help but voice his concerns. At the time, they didn't fully understand indoctrination. To just murder them in cold blood felt wrong. But Shepard turned to him and said "They're not alive, not really. We're doing them a favor. I'd rather die me than whatever the fuck this is." Then he opened the pen and fired. Not one tried to resist or run. They didn't even cry out. They just accepted their fate with the same uncaring, blank stares these slaves had. Now he found himself wondering what it would've done to The Commander if his sister had been in that cage. Maybe it was a blessing Shepard hadn't found her like this. "Alright, let's start gathering them up and treating any injuries. Start checking their slave numbers."
As it turned out, the Ubralle was populated exclusively with female human slaves. However, there weren't many. So far, they had located eight in total. Garrus watched idly as Krul guided the entire group into the cargo bay. With a mere gesture of his hand, they obeyed in unison. The image of it was slightly creepy, almost as if they were one consciousness.
While they diligently checked each slave's tattoo, there was no 1182 among them. This was not happening again. Today, this nightmare for the Shepard family was over. Garrus began scanning with his visor. There must be an area of the ship they'd missed. "There! Right there! There's a heat signature originating from the ventilation shaft."
Sensat strode up to him with his omni-tool flickering over the area. "mm. Entrance should be on deck two."
"Then that's where we're headed. The rest of you stay here and get these ladies ready for transport to the doc's clinic."
They traced the shaft's entrance to a cramped chamber adjacent to the captain's quarters.
"This is some sick fuck's gallery. Look at this, the way the chains are arranged. Bet he came in here to admire his work. I should have killed that captain slower." Garrus grumbled.
"Agreed." Sensat acknowledged, preoccupied with the grisly, crimson mess scattered across the floor.
There were diffuse pools of fresh blood, deep red hand prints, and a trail leading to a maintenance ladder for ship's ventilation system.
"Someone got one hell of a beating then escaped into the ducts. I'd go myself but..." Garrus waved his hand vertically, across his torso. "I'd never fit."
"Not a problem!" The salarian winked, his jovial spirit never seemed to be bogged down by the most appalling sights, and lowered himself into dark, murky tube.
"More blood down here. And Yes! Yes! Female, human. Pursuing." There was some clanging and the distinct sound of metal on metal.
"Ahhhh!"
"What is it Sensat? You good?"
"Yes. She nearly got me with knife."
"You're that close?"
"No. She threw it. Feisty one! But wounded."
"Just dart her and be done with it. When she's out, head back to the cargo bay. I have an idea."
When Garrus returned to the debris-littered deck below, he filled Krul in on the human slave fighting back in the ducts. "Is this typical chipped behavior?"
"Sometimes, when injured, the primal part of the brain takes over. Don't get your hopes up."
Sensat's com crackled to life. "Alright. She's down. Now what?"
"Get yourself out of that duct and join us in the cargo bay." Garrus grabbed a tarp stretched across a few crates. "I'm going to rip the duct open. I want you three to catch her with this." Once his men were arranged below the heat signature, he magnetized his grappling hook and tossed it up towards the duct. "Alright men. Be ready. I'm going to pull that blasted pipe apart."
A small body, a mere blur of red and milky-white, came tumbling out and landed softly in the outstretched tarp below. Garrus rushed over and knelt down. The back of her shirt had been shredded revealing deep, oozing gashes.
Ripper let out a long, low whistle. "Shit. That girl's what ninety pounds soakin' wet? The fuck is the point of tunin' her up like his?"
Garrus carefully wiped the blood from her arm, searching for a tattoo. This was the last slave aboard the Ubralle, if this wasn't Jane…. But his thoughts were cut off once four small numbers came into view. 1182. Finally. At long last, she was found. He allowed the revelation to sink in for a few minutes before carefully turning her head to the side. A long, jagged scar extended from ear to ear just like all the others. Damnit.
She was chipped.
