Chapter 1 Landfall
Commissioned by MaceShepard
Written by BloodRaven
Commander Jenia Vasilias marveled over the virgin world before him, great blue lakes and vast never ending expanses of trees covered the continent above him. It was a colony for a newly discovered species of humanoids.
At the grunting sound of engineers removing a view screen, he tore his gaze from the observation window of the secondary bridge. All around him sailors and workers of the Turian Hierarchy were repairing the bridge. They had taken a beating in that last engagement. The primary bridge where the captain of the ship was, had been impacted by a mass accelerator round leaving Vasilias in command.
Looking around, he was personally impressed they managed to survive in a combat capable function at all. Of the task force sent out to discipline the aliens for their attempt to activate a relay, their strength had been halved. A flotilla of a hundred ships down to barely sixty, forty needed repairs at a mobile dockyard just to replace their lost armor plating, and a dozen had been sent back to repair.
Sixty ships left out of a hundred in only a month long sortie. Not a good day for the Hierarchy.
"Sir!" Looking up, Vasilias caught the eyes of Doctor Korind, apparently she had been trying to get his attention for a few minutes now. She approached now unprompted, "I told you to take light duty sir, with your concussion you shouldn't be standing." She chastised bluntly.
He shook her concerns away, "Apologies doctor." He grunted then added, "About that task I assigned to you."
"Yes, I've interrogated the prisoners and drawn up a translation program, but sir, this is a job for an asari linguist. I'm not qualified, hell there are no qualified linguists or programmers in the fleet." She complained directly, her objections to this entire engagement had been one long litany of complaints regarding just about everything.
And he didn't blame her an ounce for it. This was madness, going into an unknown area of space with only basic 300 year old astrographs, against an enemy that they had no data on, not even on what they looked like, for the flimsiest of military prefixes.
Sure opening relays blindly was not accepted, but attacking someone for doing so was against the spirit of the law. Not even an exchange of words, or he presumed so, General Arterias was not known for his patience. He shook his head and rested his eyes upon a fleet display console, seeing Arterias' troop ship.
Vasilias sighed, "Well, did you get anything at least?"
She fidgeted, and brought up her tablet, "A bit, I wouldn't trust it to be totally accurate, we have the very basics but it's a game of charades and implications."
"It will have to do, did you identify the commanding officer?"
"Yes, I believe I have. He's currently waiting in cell block B."
"Alright birds, get your gear together, we're landing."
The flight deck officer announced into the shuttle pilot ready room. Pilot Kepla Deart grumbled as he rose from his seat. The twinge in his back from the broken spine he received twenty wars ago jolted him upright. They marched to the hangar of the troop ship and saw the arrayed forces of a quarter legion also filing out from the billets in the ship's core.
The noise was deafening as hundreds of turians were in the hangar with warming up dropships, engines firing, and vehicles moving. "What do you think!?" A voice next to him yelled over the whine of engines, his co pilot grinned with twinged mandibles.
He shook his head, "Bloody mess, absolute bloody mess Hergo. No intel, no landing plans, no rendezvous and exfiltration sites." Kepla donned his helmet, Hergo Flins had been his co pilot for the last year fresh from flight school, the boy was green as green could be for a Turian, "I have no idea what the hell the General wants us to do, but if he says jump we jump, its what turians do." He began to go through his pre-flight checklist as soon as his helmet linked with his assigned shuttle.
"Where are we landing anyways?" Kepla asked as they finally walked the distance to their shuttle and began climbing in.
"Some small settlement on the planet, intel says they spotted at least a battalion sized force in the area, nothing on armament, disposition, or readiness so we're going in low and fast and getting our chicks out and about."
Connecting his helmet directly with the pilot's seat for his shuttle, Kepla brought up the tactical screen and went through the manual testing for the ship's systems. Thrusters, maneuvering nozzles, atmo integrity, hull cameras, sensors, communications.
"All green chief." Hergo confirmed, "We're taking passengers now, third platoon is loading up now."
Kepla finished up his checklist then pushed his affirmation key as well. He could feel the thrumming of his engines and the clank clank of boots entering his ship. He watched out the front viewscreen as the hangar's troop complement rapidly funneled into the dozen dropships. He got the green light from the crew chief and he finished the final checklist for launch.
"This is flight control, first shuttle squadron you're cleared for launch. Be aware that third flight CAP is maneuvering to cover your deployment. Red IR smoke for marking your locations." Some talking in the background then added, "We have confirmed at least battalion sized level of forces in your LZ, be aware we are receiving anomalous readings on the ground around where we think they're at, and have received RADAR and sensor pings from the ground, we estimate at least light levels of anti air." Some more chatter interrupted him, the sound of an argument starting then stopping.
"This is General Arterias, as you know these primitives have broken council law in regards to opening relays. The Council will not have their ignorance start another rachni war. As you're aware, there is a small civilian population thought to be on the planet."
Kepla got the green light to launch, and the hangar turntable began to orient him to the launch tube. He started the thruster launch sequence and paired it with the tube catapult, green light again. Good, good, at least something was going well. "Fifth platoon is assigned to hastatim duty, disarm the population as soon as the settlement perimeter is cleared-" He was interrupted in Kepla's headset as his sound dampeners engaged when his shuttle was launched into the inky purple of outer space. The scream of thruster jets enabling and the mass effect core humming overtaking all sense for a few moments before it settled down.
Sending the clear signal the next shuttle launched as he began to circle, waiting for his formation. He'd seen a full launch before, where the entire squadron accelerates out their tubes. He'd seen it several times in emergency launches, particularly five wars ago in a fight in the Terminus. It had resulted in several shuttles colliding with one another and the loss of several platoons wholesale. The destruction of a ship behind them as the fusion reactor went up like a star however was worth the risk of escaping.
"-Sprits bless you raptors, Arterias out."
"Not much of a speech." Hergo complained.
"Not much of a briefing either." Kepla countered sullenly, "I don't like this." He searched around on the cameras for their flight escort and spotted them, giving them a tight beam acknowledgement. "There's Jun's birds." Kepla commented after a second.
"Flight's all here boss." Hergo clipped in chipperly.
"Jun's gotten into position as well, alright signaling deployment to the atmosphere." He sent a status report and acknowledgement to their mothership, the Fang of Defiance.
Angling down towards a gravity well, Kepla took a deep breath as the familiar rumbling of the atmosphere began to envelope him.
As the automatic system took over, he began to view a map of the landing zone. The settlement stood in the middle of a clearing about two miles wide, it had several multi story buildings in the city center, with a sprawling suburban and apartment system across the entire two miles. Surrounding the town was a five meter wall with watchtowers, pillboxes, and more. It looked more like a medieval fortress than a modern palace of defense. The buildings themselves inside were made stoutly of concrete and were squat prefabricated structures, each one a potential strongpoint able to hold out against attack. Kepla felt his stomach lurch, and it wasn't the ship, something was not right about it but he couldn't pin anything but the obvious.
They feared attack, that much was obvious, no one sane built a small colony like a military fort, it must have cost a fortune. He searched more and expanded the map to see the surrounding countryside, small farms cleared in the never ending forest, hemmed in by small rocky hills that had been identified as strong points. Tall radio antennas reached into the sky like the trees that surrounded them, a bright red bulb on the top, and playing an unidentified signal, in their language probably.
The turbulence of atmospheric entry was starting and Kepla took a deep breath, 'It begins.'
The prisoner before Vasilias was still clad in his all encompassing armor. It looked more like a carapace-like shell than the sturdy ceramic-metal armor that turians wore into battle. But he had seen the toughness of it first hand, and in this suit. The pits, gouges, and scrapes across its form was like plastic subjected to a bored juvenile's talons.
The creature's faceplate was an opaque screen across where the eyes should be, dark purple and unflinching, surrounded by bone like cartilage and plates. He got the feeling he was smiling behind that form.
Like an insectoid creature, or a vorcha, he swiveled and stood up. His two guards shifted slightly, to remind the creature that they still existed and to not try anything, the commander subtly flicked his talon for them to relax, "I am Commander Jenia Vasilias of the Turian Hierarchy Navy, you are a prisoner aboard our ship and subject to citadel law and order. Do not fear, we will not harm you as a prisoner."
The prisoner stood for a moment, thinking evidently but said nothing at the end.
The onus was on Vasilias, "While you are under no obligation, and indeed may be under oath to provide no aid to the enemy, it would be appreciated to comment on some bits of information we have for you." Vasilias produced a data pad and brought up information on the planet they currently orbited.
Pressing the translation key he offered it to the alien. Hesitantly it accepted then tilted its head down. It looked at it, then its body language changed from a passive stance, to it shifting from foot to foot, it snapped its head back up, "Leave." It ordered.
Vasilias was unsure on what exactly it meant, before it spoke more, "Leave planet. Forty day island. Don't approach."
"We cannot do that." Vasilias countered.
"Krishtok-ka. Leave. Planet. Danger. Maximal." It stated more firmly this time.
Krishtok-ka, in the Turian dialect he spoke meant, "Counter regulation, death sentence." A very specific term for disobeying orders at the risk of danger to others. The fact the translator went through with such a specific term was astounding. He looked closely at the alien, "You will have to explain."
"Negative. Leave world, leave land preserve. Immediately. Danger. Forty Day Island, indefinite second tier land preserve." It insisted agitatedly. More animatedly it pointed its hand with the second finger extended down, to where, presumably, it meant the world, "None may leave if landed."
A screaming siren interrupted Saren's train of thought as the dropship jinked. A dull explosion could be heard past the hull, "We lost a fighter! More missiles incoming! Deploying countermeasures." The ship jinxed more as missiles reached out to them.
"Countermeasures are ineffectual!" A pilot shouted on the joined pilot's frequency.
"Land us quickly pilots!" Desolas shouted next to him into the radio. Saren winced, they were already falling at a terminal velocity, going faster was a risk.
He pulled up his omni tool and checking the dropship's sensor saw them, the fire points looked to be small individual launchers, manpads, fired from the trees and a few clearings. They couldn't have many available and their launch window was going to be less than a minute.
Another fighter was impacted, its kinetic barriers seemingly useless as its wing sheared off with its stabilizer and it started to spiral out of control. A drop ship was impacted by first one, then two, then half a dozen missiles all at once, it lost power and began to plummet. The Pilot pulled it out of its dive as much as possible and tried to glide to reduce the heat friction upon its hull. Saren watched and prayed as it was barely accomplished, and the passengers began to make a HALO jump one at a time.
"One minute Sir." Saren confided to his brother as the altimeter began counting down, Desolas nodded, and brought up an interface with the ships in orbit.
"Flotilla, this is General Arterias, fire support requested." He asked, nodding when he got a response, "we have a minute window to fire on these positions. Soften them up for us."
Saren watched the map as the frigates put in their firing coordinates and unleashed a barrage into the forest. The fire took less than a second to impact the planet, with no visible change from orbit. Confusion reigned in his mind, the frigates fired again, then again, and then he saw it, kinetic barriers around the fire points. Sloughing off the fire with ease.
A tiny pissant little settlement had kinetic barriers that could deflect frigate fire. Oh, and they were landing there so they couldn't just keep firing down. Great.
"20 seconds." Saren counted down until they'd arrested their descent and moved to the clearing they selected for themselves. Saren sucked in his gut, and then the entire dropship lurched.
"We've been hit by two missiles," the co pilot announced calmly, "minor damage." Saren brought his interface up and found that one of the maneuvering jets had been melted off and the metal sizzled with something. Plasma jet fired once it impacts the kinetic barrier? Cleaver, but expensive as platinum.
The ship slowed noticeably, bringing all his blood to his brain, Saren and the rest of the passengers pumped their legs to keep it flowing.
Then... *Thump*
"Go go go go!" The crew chief yelled as the entire compartment stood up and began to run off the gangplank onto the forested planet. From darkness into twilight of the soon to be night.
"Form a perimeter, three meter sprea-" The Sergeant was calling out, before he was impacted by half a dozen bullets and his head exploded into gore. The ship and disembarked soldiers began to be lit up with gun fire, immediately cries of medic and the wounded groans as their kinetic barriers popped and turians fell down dead. Saren got down low behind a boulder of granite and scanned the treeline, he counted three, four, five flashpoints for gunfire, and turned on his thermal vision for his helmet. He saw the heads and exposed body parts of the aliens and wildlife, he watched, and two turian sized figures suddenly exploded from the undergrowth, burdened by something, then started to assemble it. He took aim, and fired, the left figure fell down from a single burst, the right snapped his head to the clearing and then dove to the side, spoiling Saren's follow up shot, he twitched to the shot figure and saw him get dragged away.
Blasted spirits! He scanned, and now the platoon was putting up suppressive fire back at the aliens, their senses found surrounded by fallen turians and proven soldiers.
"This is General Arterias, requesting an air strike ten meters from us." His brother shouted, "Yes I know that's danger close, do it anyways, strafe them with your cannons. We're trying to paint a target now."
A turian next to Desolas activated the laser on his rifle to paint the target. Immediately the aliens reoriented their fire, and the Turian's head, rifle, and upper body was engulfed by fire leaving behind a mangled corpse. The fire then spread out once more. Another turian tried to turn on his laser light but he too was focused down almost immediately.
Shit.
The scream of a dropship above deafened him and the rest of the platoon's survivors, and then the chitter chatter of autocannons firing into the forest and underbrush boomed across the clearing turning off sound.
The firing continued for a full minute, before it stopped. When his hearing returned, Saren slowly raised his head above his rock.
Fire and debris was strewn across his vision, the previous visual map of the hot cold thermal sight was entirely ravaged. His brother breathed, "Thank you dropship 2, you're green to-" The scream of rockets and the boom of their payload. By luck or design, the cockpit itself was impacted. Saren looked up and turned off his thermal sights, his mouth went slightly ajar as the cockpit windscreen was dissolving before his eyes, as greenish fluid ate through solid metal like it was water through bread.
A mere drop of the acid landed next to him and he yelped in shock as it started to eat through the granite rock before him. He realized immediately, he had to get away, a primal instinct in him telling him to get clear. Tripping over the rock he backed away, and all around him other turians were doing just that, getting to the treeline to hopefully avoid the soon to be crashing dropship.
Indeed the dropship crashed to the ground, missing several other turians by mere meters. The aliens were still firing sporadically, bright flashes and kabooms that ripped through the disorganized Turians as they sought new cover.
Desolas rose up, "Come with me birds! Are you chicks or raptors!?" He bellowed. An immediate change of the air spirited the previously disarrayed soldiers, and the platoon began to fire and maneuver. Their platoon, sixth platoon, began to lay down suppressing fire, while the newly disembarked second platoon moved up to the treeline.
As soon as they met the trees the aliens began to fall back. Still with an abundance of caution, the second platoon fired into the forest and underbrush. Saren crouch ran forwards, reached the stone circle that lined this clearing and began to fire as well into the dark.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Desolas bellowed, and the firing stopped reluctantly. Saren began to scan the trees with his thermal sight, and saw nothing. Slowly squads of turians crept forward.
Saren was so focused on the horizon that he fell into a trench. Desolas scrambled over and looked down into it, then motioned for the squad to join Saran without the fall. Other than this pride, he was only annoyed. It was a wide and deep trench about a turian and a half's height if not more, and wide enough to fit a truck through it. It was lined with concrete, and had a concrete fire step that made it JUST able to peek over the lip.
Saren began to help his comrades over the next trench lip, Using his interlocked talons to give them a boost. Desolas, being the second to last pulled him up. It was a half hour of slow creeping, in which the light in the horizon trickled away to nothing.
Several more trench rings and they finally reached….. Something. It looked to be a concrete block house. It had no running lights or any sign of habitation despite looking meticulously clean. The solid metal door was ajar, the only source of light was coming from that door.
Saren and his squad moved up to be first in. Slowly, the pointbird entered, scanned the chamber, and the next moved in, then Saren. It was like any concrete fortification. Metal furniture, electronic wiring hung on the walls, robust terminals in alcoves. Looking down, Saren saw red smears and boot prints on the ground. Blood. Must be the aliens' blood.
He followed the smear as the squad spread out. It went into a hallway and then to the left. Tracking it, he found what looked to be a clinic or sick bay of some kind. Half a dozen bodies were either on the ground or in beds.
They were not what he expected, about the size of a batarian each, they all wore a battle dress uniform of some weird make. Not a hardsuit strangely enough, but more like a quarian suit he guessed. Thick oiled cloth and rubber clothes, with armored chest pieces, greeves, arm bracers, and thick boots.
They were all dead that much was certain, none were breathing. The only one hooked up to an EKG monitor was making a flat line beep. Saren, in a moment of strange clarity, walked up, and hit the big red button that had a lightning bolt on it. The machine was turned off. Leaving him in uncomfortable silence. He began a more in depth examination of the alien on the gurney.
Dressed as before, now that he looked closely he could see what were probably rank and service patches and pins on the cloth of his uniform. The camouflage was well suited to this world, more armor plates and padding was sewed into his cloth-rubber uniform.
He looked entirely differently armored then the previous aliens they had encountered. A different armed force perhaps, a militia for the planet? Instead of chitinous plates that acted like a hardsuit, this creature was more traditionally dressed.
The helmet and mask had been removed, seeing it on another body it looked to be a steel helmet with full face covering made of the same rubberized cloth material, with a pair of goggles sewn into them to provide protection, sight, and with a wave of his omnitool, a variety of visual ranges. His eyes snapped back to the unmasked alien and he bristled. It looked just like an asari, except for the ash grey skin and… he hesitantly felt the tuft of fibrous material on its head. Hair on its head. Looking more closely it had sustained several accelerator pellets to its abdomen and limbs. The abdomen shots had been absorbed by the armor plates with only slight dents, feeling them, they were metal ceramic, not the supposedly plastic like material of its space borne brethren. Its limbs however, were unarmored, and it had bled out. Its eyes were staring at the grey ceiling, and a remarkably asari like look of fear was frozen in its last moments of life.
He made a more thorough medical examination. Tourniquets had been placed on the appropriate limbs, it had a tag with a cylinder attached to its collar, painkillers probably, a wooden board with paper had hasty scribbles in their language written on it, and a strange mucus covered the wounds, hugging the pin hole entry wound and exploded exit wound tightly, it dripped a mixture of blood and mucus. He scanned the material, and it seemed the rounds had been coated in anticoagulants and was a shredder round. He checked again, then scanned again, the mucus was apparently a natural part of the creature's biology. Strange, other than some anomalous readings on the mucus his omnitool was insistent that it was alien tissue no different than the blood or flesh.
The scenario played out in his mind, quite likely this alien was dead on arrival, but its friends had done everything possible, high on adrenaline and panic to save it. Pull on the tourniquets, put in the painkillers, drag him away as fast as possible to safety then slap on some sutures. Pity.
"This is Arterias, report on casualties and enemy bodies."
"This is Saren, I've found six enemy KIA in a med bay. Looks to be enemy combatants wounded by our fire." Saren reported. Then he winced as he listened to their casualty list. Thirty wounded by various causes, twenty dead outright, pilot and copilot "dead" fused to their seats in the crashed dropship, the dropship totally inoperable with all control panels melted. So far only his six enemy KIA called in for enemy casualties.
"Sir we found an enemy ammo dump." One of his squad reported, and Saren rushed over. Desolas also rushed in and they both flew down a steep flight of stairs into an ammo bunker. The lights were on and crates containers and many other things we're flung open in a rush. Medical supplies, ammo, and weapons were everywhere.
"I have no idea what it is. A squid?"
"No it has to be one of those missiles they fired, did you see my footage?"
"Yeah we all did, but- hey put it down you have no idea what it is."
"I know what it is, it's a- wait, is it blinking?"
Saren and desolas turned a corner around a shipping container just in time to hear the screaming.
Kepla shook his head in dismay, the compound was not expected to be so heavily armed. They lost five moving up the road to sniper fire, and had to resort to the dropship autocannon pummeling the main structure before the aliens inside could be properly suppressed and assaulted. They had surrendered after that and were being escorted out in a single file, stripped of weapons and armor.
It wasn't a military compound, despite the high walls and trench before them, the main building and surrounding farmland looked more lived in and civilian. Not to mention the aliens weren't armored head to toe, and were of all shapes, sizes, and presumably ages. Thirty in total after the enemy dead were collected by the hastatim.
The aliens were loaded onto his dropship and he began the checklist to lift off again. They had secured the settlement, it had been undefended by the alien militia, with the inhabitants staying inside for the most part. It couldn't be home to more than a thousand people, most of whom lived in several of the apartment blockhouses in pairs.
Lifting off and sighting the town, he could see the tall walls and faintly detect the large trench that surrounded it, sunk into the ground. The tallest building there was what was presumed to be the local government offices/hospital/school, rising a full five stories high with several ground to space antennas that could send a signal clear to the other end of the solar system.
He angled the dropship in the night sky. Pulsed the thrusters and then slowly leveled it out to land in the large field near several other dopships. With a thump it landed on the plain green field and he waited patiently for the Hastatim to collect the prisoners. He sighed in exhaustion and rubbed the side of his helmet wishing he could scratch his flanges.
He heard feet clanging on the metal behind him, the beeping of the affirmation code preceded the door opening, "Dropship crew, you're relieved."
Oh fucking finally. Kepla had been riding hard in his ship and had taken more than a few of those damned alien missiles. Climbing out of his cockpit and onto the plankway to the troop compartment his bones ached each step.
Just a few more years he thought solemnly, then chuckled, then he'd reenlist and be in for another fifteen.
As he exited the dropship he stretched his back and saw with his mouth agape, a literal pile of guns and ammo. It was stacked higher than him, hell it was taller than a dropship, he'd CONFUSED it for a dropship in the dark and fatigue.
"What in the spirits…" A nearby hastatim soldier looked up, then back down at his omni tool.
"Every. Fucking. House. Every building, every other damn room even. This place is more well armed than a krogan bachelor party at an Elkoss Combine factory." He groused, "Worse part? Everyone fights us on it, our tranlators are fucking garbage you know that? Every single one say it's against safety regulations and very dangerous, you'd think we're removing their damn fire detectors. I was legit fought on it for LEGAL reasons." He threw up his hands now, forgetting any work, "Legal reasons! They even PULLED UP A PAPER BOOK that apparently has legal code for requiring guns in a house for self defense. By the spirits what did we walk into, a seperatist convention?"
Kepla took a step back, "Spirits you bird, how long have you been working?"
"Since we dropped down! Spirits fucking sakes. It's everyone, literally everyone, who the hell NEEDS this much firepower?!" Kepla decided now was time to get some distance from the ground pounder and made his way towards the commandeered command post.
He found it less awkward to walk alongside the line of alien prisoners then in the company of the disgruntled soldiers. Something in the air wasn't right he decided, "Kepla!"
"Hergo, what's up?"
The Turian was taking in great lungfuls of air, spirits he'd been gone for five minutes and he was already running around like a chick on unification day morning, "Just got orders." Another gulp of air, "We're to report to that big building. Need techs."
"Well let me know when they start paying me a tech's salary." Kepla groaned as they walked into the command post, got a standard ration for each of them, and began to eat and walk to the huge building with its bright antennas.
They walked and ate to the "big building", discarding their trash in what they assumed was a waste bin at the outside entrance before entering. The entire first floor lobby had been repurposed as a command center for the Legion, and was a hive of activity as they set up equipment and coordinated the region-wide attack.
"The hell do they need us for? They got a room full of techs." Kepla grumbled before starting to attention and saluting as General Orinia stepped before them
She examined them for a minute before nodding, "Finally, I need you two to go with my assistant Kinsala to the basement of this building. There's a security door that is giving us trouble. We think that's where the local government officials are hiding out."
"Yes General." Kepla and Hergo both acknowledged before moving towards the indicated assistant.
Kinsala waved them into a nearby corridor and they entered the darkened space. Curiosity overtook Kepla, "So how's the invasion coming?"
"A mess pilot." Kinsala answered simply. They entered an atrium that led into what Kepla presumed was a food court and had an overhead walkway, "We've determined this is the school part of the facility. Two floors up we have government offices, and a few floors past we have what we presume to be air traffic control and various telecommunications facilities."
"Must be big on efficiency then." Herth commented.
"Yup, but we think the facility goes down at least twenty levels. All the buildings we checked have panic rooms that go down at least ten meters and are connected by security doors to what we presume to be an underground network. No one we've met has access but most of them are just civilians."
"Spirits I thought this place already cost a fortune, then you drop that on me. This can't be just any colony." Kepla commented.
"We've found references to various programs and activities they were doing here." Kinsala stopped at a sturdy metal door, it had its lock blown out with a thermite charge, "But without a better translation program all we get is some gumbled gobbledygook about children programs and genetics tampering."
Walking down a flight of stairs, they came face to face with another security door. This one made Hergo squawk in surprise, "That's a damn bunker door." He announced deadpan.
Damn right it was a bunker door. Looking behind them he saw that the large concave tunnel they had exited into was wide enough for trucks and even had tram tracks on the ground. Kneeling down he felt them with this bare talon, they hadn't been used for a year or so, but whatever was behind that door they wanted it secured.
"I know it seems like an insurmountable task…" Kinsala left off meaningfully, "But our engies say that it'll be easier to dig around the door than go through it, and our techs are all busy setting up the command post."
"Well we can try, still got that STG door hacker Hergo?" Kepla asked.
Hergo blanched, "Kepla, that thing can crack a Citadel keeper service tunnel in five minutes. But against that? You'd have to be an addled hatchling to think their architecture is anything like what a STG program can go through."
The arguing went back and forth before Kinsala asked them to at least look at the coding for the door. They agreed and crouched down at the door's base, "No… No no, no universal port so no physical access. No hardight interface of course, no holographic interface, they have this physical access panel but it'll fail lock if we fuck with it if they had any brains." Kepla tapped his omni tool, "I think we can use this." He angled it for Hergo to see.
"Really?" His partner asked in an obviously questioning tone, "You'd think they'd be so sloppy as to allow such an easy back door?"
"I can't be sure of anything, our translator software is shit. All I know is that it says 'Emergency access open' and 'yes' 'no'."
"So you can open it?" Kinsala asked.
"Maybe, but I'd get a couple squads down here, I can see at least two cameras looking right at us and if they have any sense they're on the other side of that door with guns ready. Probably a few heavy weapons as well." He then held up his talon, "And if not, then they'd at least rig the emergency access with the fire alarm or something."
"What, like at a restaurant?" Kinsala crossed her arms.
"Yeah probably if you're opening it in an emergency, that's worth the klaxons or a security notice at the very least. Anyone can open it after all if it's this easy." Kepla countered, then looked at the door, "But why'd they go through so much effort to make such a big door, only to make it easy to open for anyone with wifi access?"
"Anti insurrection measures? The entire planet is built like a fort."
Kepla's mind raced, "No no. That's the thing, I've been thinking. Full battalion, fighting tooth and nail for every copse of trees. Theater grade kinetic barriers for individual bunkers, which of course are no more than a kilometer apart… And outward facing concrete trenches around each bunker, town, and civilian compound… that are unmanned."
Both Turians stopped. Kepla looked up to Kinsala, "Make it a platoon, get all the hastatim here now. I think we're onto what General Arterias is looking for."
They were nothing but disgusting purplish green puddles by the time they could blink, Saren reflected. Chunks and pieces of their bodies remained from the explosion, thrown far enough away that the acidic compounds didn't dissolve them like their bodies. five soldiers, several hundred pounds of reinforced concrete, and metal containers and their contents were now a congealing puddle in the middle of the room.
Saren wouldn't admit it outloud, but he was deeply grateful to the aliens for having the forethought so that in case of such an incident, it didn't turn the ammo dump into a new crater and take the Arterias clan's two remaining sons with it.
Looking at his arm though, where a mere speck of the acid had landed on him as they turned the corner, he grimaced. It'd neutralized itself as it reached his hide but the burning pain it left him in nearly knocked him over.
That one skirmish had been a pyrrhic victory, they had needed to fly back to the alien town to drop off their wounded and coordinate the greater invasion and get a new platoon together. That was hours of Sixth Platoon being out of the fight. A new message appeared on his omnitool.
He blinked then stood up and walked to Desolas and showed him what he saw. Their eyes met. A few minutes later they had gone to the basement of the large administrative building they had commandeered and met two pilots and a platoon of soldiers.
No one said anything as they gave the go ahead and began to enter the underground complex. It was eerily quiet as they moved through the halls, the signs of hasty evacuation all around them. Entering the first room they found, it turned out to be a security checkpoint. Immediately the two pilots set to work hacking into the computers, and just as soon gave up.
"Sorry sir, one hundred percent foreign architecture, not a lick of any similarity between our system and there's. But I think we can access their files at least." Desolas nodded and then motioned for the pilot to get up. Taking his seat he began to cautiously and hesitantly depress the foriegn typeset.
"Arterias, stay with me, the rest of you finish clearing this complex." He ordered while still typing. As soon as they all left Saren looked to his brother.
"I think we may have find what we've been looking for brother." Desolas hinted quietly, hitting a final key and then a picture coming up on the screen. The picture of a mountain opening with a solid gate and high fences.
On the screen it translated, "Genetic research facility".
Kepla led the way, having taken a picture of the complex map on a wall they had passed he did his best to navigate in the alien confines, "This upcoming chamber looks to be a big open space, so get ready." He warned as they reached a security door.
The security door melted to the engineers plasma torch. Two others pulled it open allowing the team to go through. Kepla was the fifth through and his mouth went agape. The "chamber" was closer to a vault, with high ceilings and a floor deep below. All around them were pillars that held tubes, and it was unbearably hot in this chamber.
"Hey Kepla, what do you think they're doing here?" Hergo asked in a whisper as they slowly walked their way along the catwalk.
"I'm not sure." He waved his omni tool at a nearby pillar, "From what I can see, they're growing something." After a few minutes of scanning some more he added, "They're aliens, I think this is a breeding facility."
"What, like the Krogan sometimes try to do?" Kinsala asked beside him.
"Maybe." Kepla replied. They walked to the end of the catwalk and travelled through a few more corridors before coming to another solid door. Scanning it Kepla sighed, "Same as before, minus the backdoor. Locked down." He looked it up and down and began to pace it, "We're going to have to cut through it."
Saren boarded the dropship. The time was coming soon, the time when they'd find what they came for. The Arca Monolith of the Valluvian Priests. How it ended up on this world Saren had no clue, but their long search was finally going to be over.
Landing on the facility's helipad, the platoon cautiously excited the vehicle, not willing to be ambushed like they had been throughout this mission. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the base and overcome the outer security detail, one alien. It was as if no one had been informed the planet was under invasion.
Saren stopped and looked at the picture of the base again, and noticed that unlike every other installation, it lacked one of those big antennas. Strange. Maybe they really didn't know the planet was under attack.
That hopeful thought evaporated as they opened the first door and pushed in. Those bullets, those cursed massive bullets started to splash against kinetic barriers immediately. The pointman was reduced to bloody ribbons as they tore into his armor and him, it was only a merciful headshot as he fell that he was not left bleeding to death.
The firing stopped soon after, the click clacking sounds of their rifles and the tinkling of spent cartridges hitting the ground. Saren nodded to a nearby engineer, "Get a drone in there!" He shouted.
The engineer wasted little time as he raised his omni tool and sent the drone to take a picture of the area they'd be breaching. The drone was hit almost as soon as it edged from cover but they got what they wanted. A gentle downward slope deeper into the mountain was obstructed by a hastily thrown together barricade. The alien militia could be seen peeking over the trucks and cargo crates they had arrayed, and in the picture he saw at least one heavy machine gun and several aliens with those damned acid rocket launchers.
"GO AWAY!" A voice echoed from the entrance.
"YOU ARE TRESPASSING! TURN BACK OR DIE!" It added.
Desolas shook his head, "Bring in fifth company, we're storming this-"
"This is orbital control, General Arterias we're seeing every militia unit we can track are moving right for you." A new voiced pipped up in their ears.
"TURN BACK ALIENS! YOU KNOW NOTHING!" The voice came again, "GREAT DANGER HERE!" He was getting annoying.
"Great," Desolas said deadpan, "get the thermal chaff grenades printed. We're storming this place now. Command post, get me those reinforcements now." He motioned, and the engineers started to fab print new grenades that would hopefully spoof the alien's ability to see through smoke.
A new voice came, "DON'T YOU FORNICATE TRY YOU AVIAN FORNICATE FORNICATE FORNICATE! WE REDUCE CHUNKS OF YOU!" Saren looked up and tried to find any listening equipment, then saw a nearby console with a speaker. Super low tech, but you know, you had to give them credit for imagination.
The engineers passed out the grenades, then got to work on making their entryway bigger. A few minutes later and they all stepped aside and behind something solid as the great steel doors were evaporated by several plasma charges. They built tough and to last, but not to resist military grade explosives. Next came the thermal chaff grenade and normal fragmentation grenades. They couldn't have that much ammo, and with their outdated cartridge rifles, they'd exhaust their firepower in a few minutes of heavy fighting. Immediately single shots made swirling gusts in the dark clouds as they tried to suppress the turians.
A few flinched, they knew full well their barriers were but a single cartridge away from shattering, but they pressed on and the entire platoon made a simultaneous push. Saren pumped his legs as he charged ahead. He'd be lying if he said he was not afraid, and he swore he jumped five meters when he heard the roar of the machine gun open up.
Breaking smoke cover was not a comforting feeling as he was now a talonful of meter away from the aliens. He snapped his rifle up and shot the closest alien in the head, its comrades noticed him and fired, but it was too late, he was too close, and by switching targets to him, allowed the rest of the platoon to also close the distance.
Immediately the aliens got up and started a fighting retreat. A cylinder passed Saren's field of vision as he made his next shot. He was then blinded by the flashbangs.
By the time he and the rest of the platoon recovered, the aliens had only lost a quarter of their number and had safely extricated themselves to their next line behind another set of imposing steel doors.
Looking back as the thermal chaff cleared, his heart sunk, half the platoon was dead or on the ground dying, "Move up!" Desolas called out, "We can't let them get settled, keep moving." The survivors, Saren included, shook themselves from their daze and moved.
Blinking away the spots and suppressing the urge to vomit, Saren helped put up even more plasma charges, taken from the engineers both living and dead. The sound of mechanical whirring and doors opening caused him to pause and look to the source, to the sight of several auto turrets coming online. His platoon mates acted quickly, and the turrets only let off a couple bursts before they were disabled.
He was splattered in blood from the turian next to him, gore and viscera covered him as he realized just what those turrets were firing. Those weren't just bullets, those were explosive rounds that could take out armored vehicles. And they start facing inwards.
This isn't a bunker, its a prison. Picking himself up, Saren staggered away from the doors, just as they were blown open.