Chapter 7: Long Live the Primarch
War is messy.
The best laid plans fall apart. (1) Intricate schemes fall apart because one thing didn't go exactly as planned, leading to another problem and another and another. Equipment and machinery stop working at the most inopportune times. Things we take for granted—such as ready access to power, food and water—suddenly become rare commodities that might vanish at any moment. People get delayed or fall behind or become lost.
People die.
But sometimes it's little things that get lost in the chaos. Take this e-mail I had received:
From: Lt. D. Eugene
Commander Shepard
Your VI, EDI, put in a request to me for a handful of N7-grade weapons. Happy to oblige. I led the engineers who retrofitted the Normandy when it was turned over to the Alliance. EDI kept me company when we were overhauling the Normandy's interior. She's a beautiful ship, Commander. I'll miss working on her.
I left the guns in your weapons locker.
Best of luck,
Lieutenant D. Eugene
Alliance Engineering Corp.
After a lot of searching and harassing, I found out that most of those N7 weapons never made it to the Normandy, thanks to a clerical error. Thankfully, one weapon made it. The most important weapon, in my admittedly biased opinion: the N7 Valiant. A sniper rifle battle-tested on Kruljaven, it used a sophisticated fire-control system that stabilized the barrel during targeting, resulting in an increased precision, accuracy and reloading time that more than compensated for a reduced capacity and rate of fire. I was definitely looking forward to using it.
Only I couldn't find the damn thing. It was packed up in a crate and labelled with a barcode. The wrong barcode, as it turned out. After almost a half hour of computer searching and random opening of crates, I had to give up and choose from the arsenal that was available.
Why choose, you ask? After slogging through Mars, I'd come to the conclusion that I simply couldn't carry every weapon on my back. Maybe an out-and-out war required more mobility than my previous conflicts. Maybe Anderson—God, I hoped he was okay—was right and I had gotten soft. Whatever the reason, it was clear that hauling every possible weapon around would slow me down to a dangerous, and possibly fatal, degree. So I had to pick and choose.
Now you'd think that I could use some of those weapons I'd scanned, fabricated or flat-out stole last year, when I was prepping for my showdown with the Collectors. But all the specs had been wiped from the computer. Not even EDI could do anything, not without tipping her hand that she was more than a VI. Thank you Systems Alliance and your standard operating procedures.
If I had heavy weapons, they would be the first thing to go—they were literally the heaviest weapons I lugged around when I was preparing to fight the Collectors and I had almost never used them. Assault rifles too, since I hadn't used them in years.
For long-range combat, I needed a sniper rifle, which meant the M-92 Mantis. Might be boring, but I was so familiar with it I could probably strip it down in my sleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that I really needed a life. Just saying.
Next, I needed something for close-range combat. Shotguns might not be my usual thing, but there was no denying that they would be devastating for those situations. Submachine guns would also be effective, not to mention they were optimal for dealing for fast-moving hostiles—especially if they came in packs.
I considered taking a heavy pistol, then decided against it. Three weapons were more than enough. Besides, in the fluid and ever-changing theatre of war, I didn't have time to wear a hostile down with pot-shots.
With that decided, I turned to my squad. Or team, given how small it was. James wore a dark grey hardsuit. Liara's was a lighter grey with patches of blue. What surprised me was Miranda's hardsuit. It wasn't the colour scheme—light black with blue patches, which was almost a reverse of the pattern I had chosen for myself. No, it was the fact that it looked like armour. With actual plates and reinforced sheaths. "What's that?" I asked her. "Mark… Five?"
"Correct."
"A little less… don't get me wrong, it looks great but it's a little less… feminine than usual."
"The previous versions balanced protection against kinetic and biotic-based physical attacks with the psychological advantages of accentuating my body," she explained. "Our previous encounters have proven that Reaper forces would not acknowledge the latter in any meaningful way. Neither would any Cerberus forces we might encounter, based on your discoveries of what the Illusive Man did to them. Therefore, a more traditional configuration would be the logical choice."
Translation: neither Reaperfied monsters nor Cerberus goons stuffed to the gills with Reaper tech would waste time drooling over Miranda, so there was no point in wearing skin-tight outfits. "Fair enough," I allowed. She still looked incredibly hot, after all.
With that out of the way, we entered the shuttle. Liara and James were waiting for us. Cortez was already in the pilot's seat. "Joker, we're ready to go," I said aloud, once the shuttle hatch sealed.
"Roger that," he replied. "We'll be entering the Trebia system in two minutes."
"By now, the whole system's gonna be caught up in a firefight," I said. "As soon as we exit the relay, run a passive scan. If we can swing around the crossfire, go for it. Otherwise, I want you to hop straight to Menae."
"FTL calculations complete, Shepard," EDI replied.
"Thanks." I closed the comm and turned to the team. "Okay, everyone knows the mission?"
"Go in hot, finding the turian Primarch and bug out," James summarized.
"Right," I nodded. "I'll be team leader. Miranda's second-in-command. If we have to split up, Liara's with me."
James frowned slightly. Understandable, I suppose. Nothing in standard Alliance protocol allowed for integration of nonhumans or civilian combatants, and they definitely didn't allow for them to jump the chain of command. "Sir?" he asked.
"Miranda and I spent a whole year fighting side by side against mercs, husks and Collectors," I replied. "Back then, she was my assistant squad leader."
That was enough for James, I saw, judging by the look in his eyes. He knew what that meant: better to go with someone you knew than someone you didn't. Miranda, however, felt the need to butt in. "Besides, if we have to split up, that arrangement would ensure each pair has a biotic."
"Gotcha," James said. He moved onto his next question: "So we're going to… Menae, was it? What do we know about it? Never heard of it before now. All the database could tell me was that it's Palaven's largest moon."
"Not surprising," Miranda replied. "The Hierarchy placed it under the authority of their military at the dawn of the turian space age. All civilian activity was brought to a halt. All information—geological composition, radius, atmospheric pressure, surface conditions—was classified. Even the average turian knows little about it. Naturally, that spawned all sorts of outlandish speculation in vids, novels and poetry."
"The Hierarchy maintains a small network of garrisons, along with installations for extreme survival training," Liara added.
"Hopefully one of those bases can point us in the right direction," I sighed.
"It's not that bad," Liara disagreed. "I was able to identify the most likely location of Menae's command and control centre. They'll know where Primarch Fedorian can be found."
"We have entered the Trebia system," Joker announced. "And… yeah, it'll take ages to fly around all those ships. Moving to Plan B."
"Pre-flight checks complete," Cortez said. "Checking shuttle bay… shuttle bay clear. Beginning depressurization sequence."
"Executing point-to-point FTL jump in three… two… one… Ladies and gentlemen, we're about halfway between Palaven and Menae. Please sit down, buckle your seatbelts and prepare for the usual turbulence of space combat."
"Shuttle bay depressurized," Cortez reported. "Thrusters powered up."
We left the Normandy and flew out. Cortez had to begin evasive manoeuvres almost immediately. I later found out that we'd flown through what was left of a turian cruiser. The shuttle briefly shook as a piece of debris bounced off our shields. I patched the feeds from the external vid-cams to the viewscreens in the cargo hold…
…and immediately regretted it. Liara took in the look of horror on my face and immediately turned around. "Oh no," she cried out. "No… Palaven."
"We have an old friend who grew up on Palaven," Miranda explained to James. "The last reports I saw said he'd returned there."
Now it was James's turn to look at the viewscreen. "Holy hell," he breathed. "They're getting wasted."
I shook my head. "Strongest military in the galaxy… and the Reapers are obliterating it."
"Was it like this on Earth?" Liara asked.
I just looked at her and bowed my head. Miranda gently nudged my shoulder in support. It was James who answered her. "Pretty much."
"I… I'm so sorry," Liara said.
"Yeah," I whispered. There wasn't really much more to say.
The shuttle began shaking ever so slightly as we entered Menae's atmosphere. "Commander!" Cortez called out a minute into our descent. "The LZ's getting swarmed!"
"Can we re-route?" I asked.
"All secondary LZs are just as hot."
That would be a no. "James, open that hatch," I ordered, putting my helmet on. "Time to get to work."
We were only a few hundred metres above the ground when the hatch opened. My targeting protocols ID'd a couple husks crawling up the side of a cliff. Naturally I responded by letting loose with a bolt of plasma.
"Nice shot!" James said. "Hell of a wake-up call!"
"Thanks," I replied. "Miranda, Liara; lay down a couple biotic shots. James, use concussive rounds for now. Conserve the rest of your ammo."
To be honest, I doubt we took out more than half a dozen husks. That wasn't the point. All I wanted to do was clear a hole just long enough for Cortez to descend the rest of the way. He slowed to a halt, hovering a metre above the ground—standard protocol for inserting a team into a hot fire zone. "All right," I said. "Get in, get out. Let's move!"
I led the way towards a watchtower of sorts with another fireball. James followed up by firing a concussive round into the husk I'd just set ablaze, taking out an additional husk in the following explosion. Miranda and Liara used their biotics to eliminate three more husks in a similar one-two punch. I fired off another stream of plasma as soon as I could, then finished things off with a round from my sniper rifle.
The rest of the team were laying down a constant barrage of biotic blasts and concussive rounds. At first I thought they were scattering their fire a bit too much. Then I realized that they were just softening up the husks for the turians to finish them off. That worked for me, I decided. Following their lead, I hit a trio of husks with yet another fireball. The turians hit them with a stream of bullets before James and Liara fired off another concussive round and biotic combo. The resulting pyrotechnics was quite spectacular.
Looking around, I was surprised to see that there were no more husks. For now. "Reload," I barked. While the team complied, I stepped towards the watchtower. "Soldier! Which way to your commanding officer?"
"Straight ahead and around the corner—past the first barricade."
Following their directions, I headed in the indicated direction—pausing only to swipe some random spare parts—heading down a canyon towards a reinforced gate. It had seen some combat, judging by all the scorch marks. "Hold your fire!" I heard another turian yell. "Friendly inbound!"
Yes. Please don't shoot me. I had enough people wanting to use me as target practise as it was.
The gate lowered a few seconds later and we entered a fair-sized compound. It was very… grey. The ground was grey. The rocks were grey. The crates were grey. The various stations, centres and bunkers—all sturdy-looking despite their pre-fabricated and temporary appearance were grey. The walls were grey. Looked like your standard field command. I wandered around, picking up some medi-gel and stuff. Spotting a datapad, I picked it up and scrolled through a ground report. It didn't exactly make for cheerful reading:
Knowledge of the terrain is our only advantage here and that's not going to last forever if they keep throwing their forces at us. We'll hold this area as long as we can. I'm linking my transponder to the life-signal monitoring system of the unit's suits. If it goes out, send another unit here ASAP. (2)
"No one's responding," I heard someone say as I put down the datapad.
"Try them again!"
"Menae Command to west airfield, do you read?
Keeping an ear out to eavesdrop, I moved towards a familiar shape. Yep: it was a sniper rifle. Hallelujah. Only an M-97 Viper, though. Don't get me wrong: they're good. But they were geared towards draining shields and barriers with rapid fire. I preferred something that could do more damage per shot. But it seemed a shame to pass it up…
Miranda rolled her eyes, extended an arm and scanned it with her omni-tool. "I'll upload the schematics to the Normandy when we get back," she said. "We can manufacture one if you want to use it."
"Good idea," I approved. Maybe that Viper belonged to some turian. Didn't seem right to swipe it when he or she might need it. (3)
With that settled, I turned my head towards the conversation I had overheard earlier. I saw one turian turn to another and shake his head. "Nothing, sir," the first one reported. "Not even static."
"Try them again," came the reply.
"Respectfully, sir, we've been getting nothing for—"
"That's an order."
"Yes, sir."
Looking around, I saw a structure with enough computers to look like a command and control centre, so that's where I went next. Three turians were standing around a holo-table. "We could really use air support, General," I heard a turian say.
"And you'll get some as soon as it's available," the general replied. "Meanwhile, Tobestik, get your men up on that north barricade."
"Yes sir!" Tobestik barked before he left.
"Sergeant Bartus, find a way to get that comm tower operational."
Bartus stood to attention and snapped off a salute. "Sir!" was all he said before he bolted.
With no one else around, it was our turn. "General?" I said aloud.
The general began typing away on one of the holo-table's consoles. "Commander Shepard," he greeted me. "Heard you were coming, but I didn't believe it. General Corinthus."
"I've come to get Primarch Fedorian," I told him, skipping the usual social niceties. "We need him to represent your people at a war summit."
Corinthus's typing slowed to a halt. His head bowed. Aw, crap.
"Primarch Fedorian is dead. His shuttle was shot down an hour ago as it tried to leave the moon."
Well… crap on a stick. "That's gonna complicate things," I sighed. Looking at Corinthus, I sensed that that was just the tip of the iceberg. (4) "How bad is it, General?" I asked softly.
Corinthus looked at me with an inscrutable expression on his face. "We just lost about four hundred men in half an hour."
Shit.
"We set up camps on this moon as an advance position," Corinthus elaborated, "to flank the enemy. A sound strategy, one would think. Just…"
"Irrelevant," I finished.
"Exactly," Corinthus nodded. "The sheer force of the Reapers seems to make them immune to that sort of tactic." He paused before adding "The Primarch and his men found that out the hard way."
Damn, I hated this war. "I'm sorry," I offered. "I hear he was a good man."
"And a good friend," Corinthus sighed. "We served in several divisions together. He would have been an outstanding diplomat for this summit of yours."
"Look, not to belittle Primarch Fedorian's death or anything, but is there someone else who could represent the turians?"
Corinthus shook his head. "No. For something like this, the Primarch is the only one with the political and military authority to negotiate and sign any agreements. Fedorian is dead, so he's out of the picture. However…"
"The Turian Hierarchy provides very clear lines of succession," Liara finished.
Meaning procedures were already set to determine who would be the next Primarch. "Gotcha. So who's next in line?"
"With such heavy casualties, it's hard for me to be certain who the next Primarch is. Palaven Command will know." Activating his omni-tool, he pulled up some data on the holo-table. Shaking his head, he continued: "However, at the moment, contacting them is impossible. The comm tower is out."
"Yeah, we heard about that," James said. "What's going on?"
"Minor damage, from what I'm told," Corinthus replied. "However, husks are swarming that area—we can't get close enough to repair it."
Sounded like my cue. "Don't worry, General. I'll get your tower operational."
"Thank you, Commander," Corinthus said. "I'll take care of things on this end."
"All right," I nodded. To my team, I said "Let's go."
"I see the comm tower," Liara said as we left. "To the left of the main barricade. In front of Palaven."
Translation: just head for the Reapers and the world that was literally burning and smouldering.
"Let's go!" James urged.
As we headed out, I swiped various weapon mods, an armour upgrade and a datapad full of credits. It was while I was pocketing a pistol upgrade that I heard another conversation: "Sir, shuttle carrying the fighter mechanics has not arrived. They're… they're presumed MIA." (5)
"How many fighters are in for repair?"
"29, sir."
"Have the crew make only critical, level-eight repairs. I want every serviceable fighter in the air ASAP. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
Moving on, I thumbed on a datapad with one hand while rummaging through a medkit with another:
From: Commander Hexnar
Re: Supplies
They sent us winter gear. Not sure what they thought we'd do with that kind of gear here, but I suppose we should thank the spirits nonetheless. The power sources can be cannibalized and converted to power our combat gear's filtering units instead, at least. It'll be nice not to have those clogging up anymore.
At least I wasn't the only one suffering from logistical screw-ups. That was somewhat comforting.
I grabbed another armour upgrade, scooped up a weapons mod and scanned an M-27 Scimitar shotgun before leaving the base. It only took a few seconds before we ran into two wounded turians. I recognized one of them. "Sergeant Bartus?"
"Yeah?"
"Commander Shepard, Alliance. General Corinthus sent us out to help fix the comm tower."
"That was my job," Bartus laughed. "Husks at the tower overwhelmed us."
"It's like they come out of nowhere," the other turian cried out.
"Let us take a crack at it," I offered.
Bartus looked at his comrade and shrugged. "We'll cover your back, Commander. Good luck."
Moving forward, I began scanning the terrain for husks. Didn't take long before I found my first husk. A quick flash of plasma set it on fire. James's concussive round blew it up. Liara hit another husk with her biotic, which Miranda finished off. I set another husk on fire, then spotted a fourth one charging in a seemingly random manner. Having faced them on far too many occasions, I knew it was only a matter of time before it would charge towards us. The meandering path it took meant my sniper rifle wouldn't be the best choice.
So I switched to my shotgun. One shot stopped it cold. Another one literally froze it on the spot, thanks to the cryo mod I belatedly activated. The third one blew it to smithereens. This must be why people like shotguns. Besides the big boom. Still doesn't beat a sniper rifle, though.
I fired off some more plasma, then froze a husk with another shotgun blast. As I switched to my sniper rifle, James detonated the plasma with another concussive round. While Liara and Miranda took out another husk with their biotics, I simply ran towards the frozen husk and punched it in the face with spectacular results.
Bartus and his friend weren't sitting by twiddling their talons. Judging from all the gunfire, they managed to take out quite a few husks. With them picking off husks from afar and my team laying down a withering onslaught, it didn't take long before we reached the comm tower. I quickly circled around to replenish our ammo before examining the comm tower's console. "This is gonna take more than a quick reboot," I decided. "We can't repair it from this panel."
I looked at each team member, assessing their skills and deciding who would be best suited for this sort of thing. What I wouldn't give to have Tali around. Or a real engineer. Guess I'd have to settle for the next best thing. "Liara, see if you can repair it. Looks like your best bet's the control panel at the top." (6)
"All right," she agreed, holstering her weapon. "If you can keep husks from climbing up behind me, I'd appreciate it."
As Liara began climbing the ladder towards the top of the comm tower, James pointed a finger. "Here they come," he warned.
In response, I hit the lead husk with a fireball. "Ready, James?"
His concussive round hit and detonated before he flashed me a grin. "Hell, yeah! Let's take 'em!"
Miranda hurled a ball of biotic energy at another husk. I shot it a couple times before blowing it up with a fireball. Spotting some activity out of the corner of my eye, I spun on the spot. Two husks, currently being held at bay by some concerted gunfire from Miranda and James. I fired a couple rounds until my omni-tool generated some more plasma, set one of the husks on fire and pummelled the other into a pulp of grey… something.
Two more husks inbound. A single shotgun blast slowed one down to a crawl. I set it on fire. James hit it with a concussive round. Boom. The other husk ran away.
If it was any other hostile, I'd think it had panicked and bolted. A husk… who knows. I fired and missed. The husk ran between James and I. He fired and missed. The husk climbed up and over a boulder that was next to me, then decided to swipe at me. A couple shots took care of it, but not before my shields took a bit of damage.
I took a moment to see how everyone was doing. James was still in good shape. Miranda was busy using her biotics, weapons and some good ol' fashioned dodging to take down husks all on her own. None of the husks had gotten close enough to the comm tower to pose any sort of threat to Liara. Good. Let's keep it that way.
Another fireball managed to hit two husks. James hit the left one with a concussive round while Miranda hit the other with her biotics. The resulting twin booms almost deafened me, but not so much that I couldn't hear Liara's report: "Shepard, I've repaired the tower's main satellite connection."
That was when a husk managed to get the drop on me. We wound up rolling over and over. Judging by the way my shield strength dropped, I think the husk was getting the upper hand.
"On my way down," Liara continued.
I was too busy trying to get a hand free to do, well, something. At some point, I'm sure I had planned to generate an omni-blade, but things were a bit too chaotic to set that up. Miranda and James were helpless to intervene, as we were too close together and moving too quickly to risk any sort of act. In the end, I managed to beat the husk, but not before I lost my shields.
"Shepard?" Miranda asked.
"I'm okay," I wheezed.
"Uh huh." Miranda didn't sound convinced. "How many fingers am I holding up?
"Um… five? Six? No, wait… four."
"Well, third time's the charm," Miranda muttered.
"We're clear," James announced.
Seeing Liara join us, I activated my comm.. "General, do you read? The comm tower is now operational."
"Much appreciated, Commander. I'll contact Palaven Command."
A fiery drop pod landed right in front of us. I automatically launched some plasma. Miranda automatically launched a biotic attack. Things went boom. "Let me know when you've got something," I shouted. "I'll help your men 'till I hear from you."
"Understood."
I sent another stream of plasma towards a husk that had just arrived, thanks to a fiery drop pod. Belatedly, I added "Shepard out." Out of the smoke from the pod's impact and my fireball emerged a husk. Lifting my shotgun, I stopped it cold—literally, it came to a stop and was covered in ice. A second shot shattered it into little husk bits.
The other team members were busy finishing off another husk when yet another drop pod landed. "James!" Miranda called out before hurling a sphere of biotic energy into the emerging husks. James promptly swivelled, aimed and fired a concussive round. "Liara, our turn!" I shouted before launching some plasma. She obligingly ignited the plasma once it hit its target.
It was only then that we realized a husk had snuck up on us. It jumped Liara, legs scissoring around her waist in an obscene mockery of an enthusiastic greeting, before proceeding to maul her. Liara desperately tried to keep it away. Quickly determining that I couldn't risk a shot, I closed in and punched it once. Twice. The third time, I felt a snap as its neck broke. That did the trick.
Looking up, I saw another one. I quickly shot it before it could close the distance, then set it on fire. Liara was still a little shaken, so she didn't follow up with a biotic attack. Luckily, James had another concussive round ready. He quickly let it loose, then turned around to back up Miranda. It seemed they'd been keeping any other husks off our backs.
Normally, this would be the time where I asked Liara if she was okay. Unfortunately, she was busy firing at yet another husk. I helped her finish it off before looking around. Miranda and James had spread out slightly, but were still able to fend off two husks. I burned one to a crisp with another fireball. While the team finished it off, I spotted a turian having trouble and headed his way.
Then another pod landed a couple metres in front of me. When the smoke cleared, a trio of husks leered at me. I automatically snapped off a fireball. "James?"
He obligingly triggered a secondary explosion that killed two of them. I shot the third one, who dropped like a rock.
Then I got hit on the back of the head. Good thing I was wearing my helmet, or I could've been decapitated. As it was, I was seeing double for a second, my eyes blurring into a red haze as another husk attacked me. Somehow, I managed to block its attacks long enough for Liara to come to my rescue. With two of us flailing away, we managed to get the upper hand.
"Commander Shepard, come in."
"Shepard here," I panted. "Looks like we've dealt with the latest wave. Go ahead."
"I have information from Palaven Command," he reported. "Please return ASAP."
"On our way," I said.
The return trip was uneventful, much to our relief. The only fire we saw came from a Reaper shooting at a distant target. We had plenty of time to restock our ammo before re-entering Menae Command and finding General Corinthus.
"What have you got?" I asked him.
"As your partner said, succession is usually simple. But right now, the Hierarchy's in chaos—so many dead or MIA."
Yeah. War's kinda messy like that. But frankly, that didn't matter to me. "I need someone," I told him. "I don't care who, as long as they can get us the turian resources we need."
"I'm on it, Shepard. We'll find you the Primarch."
Miranda, Liara and I whipped our heads around so fast we almost gave ourselves whiplash. "Garrus!" I greeted him, smiling for the first time since we put boots on Menae. He was looking good. Sported a new hardsuit with lots of grey, but still enough blue to remind me of his C-Sec days. Still had that visor. Still toting a sniper rifle. Scars seemed to have healed a bit, but I suppose six months would do that.
Corinthus looked almost, well, flustered. To my surprise, he straightened up. "Vakarian, sir—I didn't see you arrive…"
Miranda and I exchanged looks. We were both thinking the same thing: did he just call Garrus 'sir'?
"At ease, General," Garrus reassured him.
"Good to see you again," I said, shaking his hand. "I thought you'd be on Palaven."
"If we lose this moon, we lose Palaven," Garrus replied. "I'm the closest damn thing we have to an expert on Reaper forces, so I'm… advising."
He seemed a little uneasy with that, though he did his best to keep any doubts out of his voice. No doubt he was trying to put on a brave face for the other turians. God knows, I could sympathize.
Suddenly realizing that introductions were in order, I looked at James. "This is Garrus Vakarian," I told him, "the man we were talking about in the shuttle. He helped me stop the Reapers a couple years ago and pitched in again with the Collectors last year. He's a hell of a soldier. Garrus; Lieutenant James Vega."
James was already moving forward to shake his hand. "Lieutenant," Garrus greeted him. "Good to see you too, Liara."
"Good to see you in one piece, Garrus," she replied.
"More or less," Miranda added, motioning to his scars.
"It's like I told Shepard," Garrus replied, "Girls dig scars."
"Not all girls," Miranda sniffed.
"Well it's good to see you as well, even if your taste leaves something to be desired," Garrus said. "Shepard, General Corinthus filled me in. Despite all the confusion, we've figured out who we're after."
So we did have a new Primarch. And Garrus was still alive. Maybe the universe was distracted from its usual plans of making my life miserable.
"Palaven Command tells me that the next Primarch is General Adrien Victus," Corinthus said.
"Victus," Liara repeated. "His name's crossed my desk."
"Know him, Garrus?" I asked.
"I was fighting alongside him this morning," he replied.
"Profile," Miranda stated more than asked.
"Lifelong military. Gets results, popular with his troops."
Experience, results, had the loyalty of the men and women under his command. So far, so good. But Garrus seemed to be pausing or hesitating. Why?
"Not so popular with military command—has a reputation for playing loose with accepted strategy."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Liara provided an example. "On Taetrus, during the uprisings, his squad discovered a salarian spy ring about the same time the turian separatists did. Rather than neutralize the ring, he fell back. He even gave up valuable fortifications, which the rebels took."
"Then the rebels attacked the salarians," Garrus continued. "And when both groups had worn each other down, Victus moved back in. Wiped both of them out. Didn't lose a man."
"That sounds brilliant," Miranda said. "So what's the problem?"
Corinthus supplied the answer. "It was a bold strategy, but wild behaviour doesn't get you advanced up the meritocracy."
Seriously? I get that turians like to play it conservative, and they can afford to when they're renowned for planning formations and manoeuvres for just about every outcome, but there are times to toss the rulebook out the airlock. And this was one of them. Garrus must have seen the look of disbelief on my face, because he simply shrugged. "Primarch Victus," he sounded out, testing the title. "That should be something to see."
"You think he can get the job done?"
"We both know that conventional strategy won't beat the Reapers," Garrus said. "Right now he could be our best shot. And I trust him."
I looked at Corinthus. He opened his mouth to say something, looked between me and Garrus, glanced out at the warzone blazing across Menae and stared at his homeworld burning before him. Then he let his head dip and offered a silent shrug. It was like he was conceding that, despite any reservations he might have, he couldn't deny the facts.
Good enough for me. "Okay," I said. "Let's get him on the shuttle and out of here."
"Commander! Shepard, come in."
Stifling a sigh, I activated the comm. "Can it wait, Joker?" I asked. "We're kind of in the middle of a war zone here."
"We've got a situation on the Normandy, Commander. It's like she's possessed—shutting down systems, powering up weapons… I can't find the source."
The universe was back. "Stand by, Joker." To the squad, I stated the obvious: "I need the Normandy standing by; we may have to bug out."
"Perhaps we should send someone back to take a look," Miranda suggested. "Lt. Moreau wouldn't contact us if they could handle it on their own."
"We'd need someone familiar with the Normandy's systems," I pointed out. Which ruled out James, I didn't say. Since the problems weren't restricted to the guns, Garrus was out too. (7) And while I might know the Normandy inside and out, that didn't mean I knew how to handle system malfunctions.
Liara and Miranda looked at each other. "You were with the Normandy SR-2 from the beginning," the former said.
"I was more focused on bringing Shepard back than constructing the Normandy," Miranda reminded her. "You've had a more recent look at what the Alliance did to her and you've integrated your own databases into the Normandy."
"True," Liara conceded.
The logic worked for me. "Liara, go back and check things out," I ordered. She nodded and headed off, contacting Cortez on the comm for a pickup. Now that that was settled: "Garrus, you said you were with Victus this morning?"
"Yeah, but we got separated," Garrus replied. "He went to bolster a flank that was breaking. Could be anywhere out there."
"We're trying to raise him, Commander," Corinthus added from the holo-table.
Before we could say anything, James jerked his head up. "Incoming Harvester!" he shouted. "Headed for the air field."
Everyone pulled out their weapons and opened fire. It wasn't hard: even though its grey carapace blended in with the terrain and the smoky sky above, the neon blue lights provided decent targets. Unfortunately, we were taken off guard and our weapons weren't optimized to handle something that big. Despite all the bullets that flew through the air, it flew over the compound, descended to a hovering stop, then flew off again.
"General, tell Primarch Victus we'll rendezvous here," I said. Then I turned to my team. "In the meantime, let's go take care of whatever that thing dropped off." I looked to my right, at a certain turian sniper. Coming, Garrus?"
Garrus loaded a fresh thermal grip in his sniper rifle and gave me a feral grin. "Are you kidding? I'm right behind you."
I quickly assessed everyone's skills. "Miranda and James, pair up again like before. Garrus, you're with me."
It would mean both snipers were clustered together instead of being spread out, but that couldn't be helped: at this point, James was a bit more used to following Miranda's lead than mine or Garrus. Now wasn't the time for him to get used to someone else's command style. Not now. Besides, in the last few combats, my shotgun had seen more action than my sniper rifle. Didn't feel right, somehow.
But that's what happens when you're in a war: things get messy.
We ran towards the airfield. It wasn't hard. All we had to do was follow the turians who weren't already stationed at assigned posts. Hearing a panting noise behind me, I looked back. It wasn't a husk, though. All I saw was Garrus, who wasn't having any trouble breathing. Miranda was fine. That just left… "James, is that you breathing so hard?"
"Atmosphere's a little thinner than I'm used to, is all," he huffed as the ramp separating the command area from the air field lowered.
"Will you be all right?" Miranda asked.
"Yes, ma'am. Adrenaline's better than oxygen any day of the week."
I wasn't sure if James was just buckling down and fighting through the exertion like any other Alliance soldier or whether he was trying to look good for a civvie—and a woman, to boot. Either way, the worst thing I could do right now was second guess him. So I gave him a nod, then glanced at Miranda when he wasn't looking. Miranda surreptitiously told me that she'd keep an eye on him.
With that settled, we continued on into the airfield. We were just passing some fortifications when Garrus yelled "Take cover!"
We quickly re-routed and ducked for cover. "Marauders up ahead," he explained. "Don't think they spotted us yet.
"Huh?" I eloquently asked.
"Turian version of husks. They can generate their own shields. From what we've seen, they tend to assume leadership roles in combat. And to make it worse, they're armed with Phaeston assault rifles."
Ooh. That had to strike a chord. Not only did they look like turian zombies, but they fought with turian weapons too. "You said they have shields?" I asked.
"Yep."
"Miranda, Garrus; you still have EMPs?"
"Yep."
"Affirmative."
"Well then…"
Miranda zapped the Marauder's shields. I pulled out my sniper rifle, cloaked and fired off a headshot. Spotting a husk, I set it on fire just before my cloak collapsed. Another husk ran in front of me, only to get mowed down by a concerted spray of fire from the team. Up ahead was another husk, just standing there. Staring at us. We stared back. And filled it full of lead.
Garrus raised his arm and launched another EMP. Spinning to my left, I saw another Marauder, now bereft of shields. I raised my sniper rifle, only to realize I had to reload. So I set it on fire instead. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another husk loping along. No time to reload. Dropping my sniper rifle, I pulled out my shotgun and fired. The husk exploded in a spray of ice. Holstering my shotgun, I scooped up the sniper rifle, ejected its spent clip and loaded a new one.
Looking ahead, I spotted another husk. "James!" I yelled before setting it on fire. "Roger that," he replied before blowing it up with his concussive round.
"You can do the same with your concussive round, Garrus," Miranda shouted. "Or you can attenuate your EMP to excite any particles from a previous incendiary or biotic attack. I'm uploading the necessary frequency adjustments to you now."
"Nice," Garrus approved.
While I waited for the upload to finish and Garrus to make some tweaks, I spotted another pair of husks being whittled down by turian weapons fire. Seemed a waste to use my sniper rifle and they were too far away to bother with the shotgun. Good thing I had my submachine gun. Pulling it out, I fired off a few shots, putting down both husks with a minimum of fuss.
Another husk. Since I was still holding my submachine gun, I weakened with several shots before finishing it off with a fireball. As the husk collapsed, I found myself breathing just as hard as James was. Adrenaline didn't have the same effect on me, perhaps? Or maybe I was still carrying too much gear. If that was the case, that was kind of shameful. I used to lug enough weapons to outfit an entire company. Uphill. Both ways. Then again, no one else on my team carried more than two weapons. Maybe they were onto something.
But that could wait. I killed another husk while the team dealt with the contents of a drop pod. A second drop pod landed, with a Marauder emerging from the smoke. Garrus drained most of its shields, Miranda took out the rest with bullets and I launched some plasma. For a moment, I thought the Marauder had regenerated its shields. Then I realized that the Marauder we had targeted had fallen, possibly having tripped. A fresh Marauder had taken its place. Miranda drained its shields with an EMP. I highlighted the first Marauder with my HUD and sent the targeting data to James just before launching a fireball. James figured out what I wanted and let loose with a concussive round. The resulting explosion took out the Marauder, injured the second and dealt a lot of damage to a nearby husk. Using my HUD again, I had the team focus on the Marauder while I finished off the husk. I sent two bursts of plasma at the Marauder before turning my attention on a third Marauder who was trying to flank us. By the time I'd whittled its shields down; the team was ready to join me. It didn't take long to finish it off.
Automatically, I scanned the field. To my surprise, I couldn't find another hostile. James came to the same conclusion. Well, we all did, but he voiced it aloud first. "I think we're done here."
"Reload and search for ammo," I ordered.
Garrus exchanged glances with Miranda. "Who would've thought that Shepard's kleptomania would prepare him for the rigours of warfare," he murmured.
"Agreed. Shepard is particularly talented at searching his surroundings," Miranda explained to James. "Usually it's for credits, like the salvage he's picking up now, but you'd be surprised how many useful schematics, weapon mods or upgrades he can come across. That skill also helps him find spare thermal clips, like you've observed so far."
"At least he's learned to wait until the shooting stops before searching," Garrus chuckled.
"Seriously?" James asked.
"Don't listen to them, James," I said in annoyance.
"Don't listen to him, James," Miranda and Garrus echoed in unison.
James looked around, then shook his head. "I knew'Loco' fit him. I just knew it."
"From the human dialect of Spanish, meaning crazy," Miranda said for Garrus's benefit.
It was a good thing there were no more hostiles around, because Garrus couldn't stop laughing for a full minute. I grabbed a few thermal clips, then rerouted to swipe an assault rifle magazine upgrade. It wasn't until James blurted out "Dios! You were right!" that I realized I was helping support their argument.
"Shepard, come in."
Oh good. I really needed a distraction right now. "Go ahead."
"Still trying to raise the Primarch, but we've got trouble back here at the main barricade. If the Reapers breach it, we're done."
The team and I broke into a jog. "We're on our way!"
It didn't take long to figure out where exactly we were needed. All we had to do was follow the drop pods that were now raining down. I was about to pull out my sniper rifle when I saw what looked like a turret. A manually operated turret.
Ooh. Big guns.
I got there first and grabbed the controls, the rest of the team spreading out beside me. As drop pods continued to land and husks began to emerge, the team launched a withering hail of biotics and concussive rounds before resorting to their weapons. Me? I fired the turret, bullets flying out in a THUD-THUD-THUD that I could faintly feel through the triggering mechanisms.
A brash siren told me I had run out of ammo. Apparently, each turret clip only held 50 shots. The good news was that it basically had an unlimited supply of clips. I just had to reload every once in a while. So I reloaded and resumed shredding husks to pieces.
"Just picking 'em off," James shouted cheerfully. "Maybe I can do three at a time. Wahoo!"
Well, at least I wasn't the only one having fun.
I just grinned to myself and took out another three or four husks.
"Okay, come on," Garrus crowed. "Who's next?"
The next one was climbing a cliff. I took it out. Miranda took out the one following it. Reloading, I took out another husk. And another. And another. I tracked a husk that was doing a good job jinking left and right, then took it out when it began scaling the cliff. Loading the turret's equivalent of a concussive round, I literally blew up the next husk, then finished off the clip by taking out yet another husk.
"Yeah!" James crowed as I reloaded. "Like fish in a barrel!" (8)
"What?" Garrus shouted in confusion.
"Old human saying!" James shouted back. "Like fish. in. a barrel."
"Heads up!" Miranda warned. "Here comes another wave!"
She was right. The drop pods kept landing and the husks kept coming. We soon fell into a rhythm where I would fire the turret and the team would fire their weapons. Whenever I had to reload, they would deploy biotics and concussive rounds. Then we'd resume our steady stream of lead.
Only a few husks made it to the top of the cliffs. Not one of them managed to take more than a single step before we blew them away.
Then another pod landed. And what emerged…
…
"Holy hell!" James said. "What is that thing?"
It kinda looked like a Reaperfied gorilla on steroids. With two rows of spikes running up its back like spines, one spiky and organic, the other more artificial like a gear. Though it reminded me of something else for some reason. Then I saw it charge towards us. "Brace yourselves!" I warned.
I should've taken my own advice. The impact dislodged me from the turret and sent me plummeting to the ground below.
"Shepard!" Miranda cried out.
Luckily my hardsuit absorbed the worst of the impact. Rolling over, I pulled out my sniper rifle. It slapped the weapon out of my hand so hard it flew through the air and hit the cliff.
Where it shattered.
My sniper rifle. Shattered. I glared at the beast. "Okay," I told it. "Now it's personal."
It reared its head—its turian head—on what almost looked like a mechanical snake-like neck that protruded from—that was it! The rest of that… that brute reminded me of a krogan. (9) My God, the Reapers had managed to gather enough krogan and turians to fuse them together!
Anyway, the Brute reared its turian head and beat its fists against its krogan chest. Kinda like a gorilla, so at least that perception wasn't completely wrong. Still, there was no way I was gonna beat it to a pulp with fisticuffs. Time to fight dirty.
Activating my cloak, I scrambled for cover and fired a burst of plasma. That automatic act wound up being appropriate, as it was only then that I looked at my sensor readings. The thing was covered in organic plating reminiscent of armour. Fire liked chewing up armour for breakfast. And lunch and other meals.
James ignited the plasma with his concussive round. Roaring in fury, it whaled around before charging towards a trio of turians. Two of them scattered out of the way. The third wasn't fast enough and literally got torn in half for his trouble. Switching to my shotgun, I launched another fireball—which Miranda detonated—before putting two shots into the oversized monstrosity. It swayed… moaned…
…then collapsed.
I didn't have time to celebrate. The rest of the team had descended to join me, just as a fresh wave of husks arrived. There were four of them and four of us. The odds were definitely back in our favour.
Just as the last husk dropped, the comm came to life. "Shepard. Corinthus here."
"What's the word on the Primarch?" I asked.
The heavy sigh of frustration told me the answer before Corinthus put it into words. "Still can't get a stable comm link."
The comm tower was fixed, so the problem wasn't on our end. Maybe the Primarch's comm was damaged. Maybe he was in an area with poor reception. Whatever the reason, we couldn't afford to wait around any longer. "Okay," I decided. "I'm going on foot. Shepard out."
I turned to Garrus, who was reloading his sniper rifle. "Garrus, take me to the last place you saw Victus."
"Understood."
After a couple minutes of pausing, getting our bearings and wandering down various ravines, I had to ask "How far?"
"Should be pretty quick," Garrus reassured me.
"Really." Miranda sounded sceptical.
"Unless we find trouble."
And that's why.
We pulled ourselves up a small ledge and kept going. At first, we saw all we could see above the rocks was another Reaper. Then we turned around the corner and saw what it was standing over. It was just lying there, one side stabbing up towards the sky. "Oh my god," James whispered. "Will you look at that… Damn thing took out a frigate just like—man, how many troops were in that crash? Fifty? Seventy-five?"
"Not sure," I admitted.
"Sounds right," Garrus said.
James shook his head. "Hard to see a beautiful ship like that go down," he said gloomily.
"Not to mention the men and women serving on her," I added.
"Yeah," Miranda said softly.
"Yeah," Garrus echoed. He shook his head, as if he was trying—and failing—to rid himself of any memory of this conversation. "We should go."
Leaving that painful sight behind, we turned left and slid down a slope into a small valley. Got a great look at yet another Reaper. And a painfully wonderful view of Garrus's homeworld. "Damn it," Garrus cursed. "Look at Palaven."
We all stopped and looked up. Garrus pointed at an inferno that must've been enormous, considering how far away we were. "That blaze of orange—the big one—that's where I was born."
"Shit," I winced.
"That's rough, Scars," James said sympathetically. (10) "Still have family there?"
"My dad. A sister," Garrus replied.
And a sick mother, I recalled. At least, according to some files the old Shadow Broker had come across. Maybe it was nothing. But maybe there was a reason why he omitted her. And if there was, I didn't want to bring it up. It was probably too raw for him.
"How bad was it, Garrus?" Miranda asked, tilting his head towards Palaven.
"Three million lost the first day, five the second."
Damn it. We'd be lucky if Earth's casualties were even close to that. "Garrus, I have to ask: how's your military holding up?"
"Look around," Garrus said tersely. "That should give you some idea."
"You're putting up a good fight," I lamely offered.
"For now," he admitted. "But how long's it gonna take before the fight's kicked out of you?"
I just kept my mouth shut. I had a feeling that, if I tried to reply, I wouldn't like the answer that came out.
Damn it. I hate this war.
"If they'd only listened to your warnings about the Reapers. We might've been ready."
Now Garrus was just venting. Couldn't blame him. We were all thinking the same thing. Hell, I'd spent the last couple years in general kicking that thought around, and the last six months thinking about little else.
"Maybe," James offered. "Hard to figure how you prepare for something like this."
I guess I should've said that. Made that kind of gesture. But all I could think of was the fact that we had years to prepare for the Reapers and nothing was done.
Oh, some token gestures were made here and there, but nothing substantial. Just blame, procrastination and flat-out denial. That wouldn't cut it against any conventional adversary, never mind one as insanely powerful and overwhelming as the Reapers. Of course we were getting slaughtered.
And now that the Reapers had finally begun their invasion, no one was willing to cooperate. To commit to anything beyond closing the borders and hoping the Reapers would go bother someone else. Leaving it to me to run around the galaxy—again. Gather allies and forge them into a unified force despite their numerous differences and grudges—again. Bank the fate of the galaxy on one more roll of the dice—again.
Why did I have to deal with all this? I know the galaxy enjoys making my life miserable, but this seemed a bit excessive. Was it just toying with me all this time? Letting me think that things couldn't get any worse? What did I ever do to deserve that sort of karmic shit? Why did it have to happen to me?
I found myself trapped in my own depressed thoughts as we travelled down the rocky path before us. At some point, I must have automatically picked up a datapad and transferred some credits to myself. And restocked my clips. But I honestly couldn't tell you when that happened.
It was almost a relief when we rounded the corner and bumped into a trio of husks. That, we knew how to handle. Garrus and I deployed another plasma-concussive round combo, killing one husk outright.
"More husks behind us!" Miranda shouted.
Naturally.
I fired my shotgun at one husk that got a little too close for comfort, then punched the damn thing. Felt good, I had to admit. That just left one husk, who got barbequed by yours truly. Then I turned around to see how Miranda and James were doing.
They'd managed to deal with a couple husks, judging by the bodies lying around, but there were still two more husks that were giving them grief. My omni-tool wasn't ready to set them on fire—and they were a little too close to my teammates to safely try that anyway. "Get down!" I yelled.
As soon as they ducked, Garrus and I opened fire. It didn't take long to finish them off.
"Shit!" James shuddered as he got to his feet. "I hate those things! Bet New York is crawling with the creepy bastards!"
"New York, Vancouver and every other city," I reminded him.
"Never should have left Earth," he said bitterly, shaking his head. Evidently, he'd forgotten his earlier conclusions about how leaving was the right thing to do. I couldn't blame him. That kind of logic had a way of evaporating in the face of such intense despair.
"It's gonna be bad all over," Garrus told him.
"I know," James groused, "but leaving the fight just pisses me off."
"But you're here asking Victus to do the same thing," Garrus pointed out. "Leave the fight to make nice in some boardroom."
"This summit is the only chance we've got," I snapped. "None of us can beat the Reapers alone."
"Which is why no one is leaving the fight," Miranda soothed. "We're all in this fight. We just have to fight together on a broader, greater level instead of in our own little corner."
No one said anything else until we arrived at another battlefield. A Reaper was looming in the distance, blasting turian ships out of the stars with contemptuous ease. A harvester flew by, its screech filling the air. Turians were running around, firing their weapons.
I veered over towards a trio of turians. One was lying down, being treated by another. The third one was standing guard. "Soldier!" I called out. "You okay?"
"Yes, sir," the injured turian bravely replied. "We'll make it."
"Have you seen General Victus?" Garrus asked.
"Yeah, maybe a half hour ago," the guard answered. "He was headed south."
"Okay," Garrus nodded. "Good luck."
"You too."
After getting our bearings, we turned south, pausing long enough for me to scan a weapons mod and grab another datapad full of credits. Then we picked up the pace. Made quite a bit of progress too.
Then a harvester shrieked overhead. Something exploded right in front of us. "Whoa! Look out!" James cried.
We lifted our weapons, expecting another intense combat. Then we lowered our weapons and watched the turian fighter that had lost a dogfight with the harvester burn. "That was a little closer than I'd like," Garrus rasped.
"I'll say," James agreed.
I moved forward, scanning with my hardsuit sensors and my eyeballs. "Well?" Miranda asked.
"No survivors." My shoulders slumped despite my best efforts. "Damn it."
"Crash like that, it's not surprising," Garrus said sadly.
We paused for a second to mourn the latest casualties in this war. A second we didn't have. Then we moved on. Trudging through grey canyons and kicking up grey gravel. Glimpsing tracer rounds from all the gunfire flying through the air. Seeing hints of yet another Reaper, its shape partially masked by all the smoke.
Watching Palaven burn.
James cleared his throat. "So, Loco… you really think this summit will work? I mean, asari? Salarians? Really? Where's the krogan and batarians? Where's the meat?"
A bit short-sighted, I thought, but understandable. James had no experience with the force multiplier that biotics could provide, much less asari biotics. Nor did he fully appreciate how the salarians could use their intel to run circles around anyone who might be thinking of causing trouble. To him, you fought an enemy with raw force. Boots on the ground, that sort of thing. From that perspective, krogan and batarians would be more suited.
Then again, I couldn't blame him. This war wasn't exactly trumpeting asari superiority or salarian intelligence. "It's not that easy, James," I told him. "If it was, things wouldn't be this bad."
"I heard rumours that the batarians took the first hit when the Reapers arrived," Garrus piped up.
"Same here," I agreed.
"I read preliminary intelligence reports that said the same thing," Miranda added. "Details were sketchy, but even the most optimistic projections… well, let's just say there isn't much left of the Hegemony."
"And the krogan have never forgiven us for the genophage," Garrus sighed.
"Right," James nodded. "Turians sterilized them."
"Salarians came up with it," I reminded him.
"Naturally the krogan hate them both for it," Miranda said.
"So they won't be joining us," Garrus concluded.
James shook his head. "Too bad. I fought with a krogan. They're tough sons of bitches."
The three of us laughed. "We've fought with krogan too," I told James. "We know exactly what you mean."
While we all reminisced about the good ol' days when we used to fight side by side with krogan, I stopped to pick up a med-kit. Beat the monotony of constant grey rock, perpetual explosions, dull echoes of Reaper weapon discharges and the rain of drop pods.
Though the last three seemed to be happening with greater frequency. "That sounds bad!" James said.
"Okay, double-time!" I barked. "No Reaper's taking this Primarch from me!"
"Right behind you!" Miranda yelled.
We entered the next camp running, and just in the nick of time. The Reapers were hitting it hard. James and I fired at a Cannibal, my plasma and his concussive round hitting home so quickly the ugly beastie was dead before it knew what happened. Garrus stripped a Marauder of its shields and opened up with his assault rifle. I helped him finish it off while Miranda occupied herself with a trio of Cannibals.
Unfortunately, I was a little too intent on getting the kill, so I didn't notice my shields dropping under a constant barrage of bullets. It wasn't until the bullets started ricocheting off my hardsuit that I realized I might be in trouble. "Garrus, take over!" I yelled as I ducked down and hastily gave myself some medi-gel.
"Miranda, hit those Cannibals with some biotics on the count of two," Garrus ordered. "James, I want a concussive round on one. Make sure you have a fresh clip loaded. We go in three… two… one… FIRE!"
By the time my shields had regenerated, all the hostiles were down. Time to find some new partners to dance with. A Cannibal roared at us as Miranda distracted it with gunfire. In response, I launched some more plasma. Garrus fired off a concussive round. The Cannibal exploded in fiery chunks of meat. "Time to move into the compound," I ordered. "Miranda, James; watch our backs. Garrus, with me."
"Moving!"
Activating my cloak, I headed forward and crouched by a rock formation. It didn't take long to see the first guy I should deal with: another Brute was causing all sorts of trouble. I sent another fireball roaring into its ugly mug, which Garrus detonated a second later. Miranda and James hit it with a biotic-concussive round combo. That explosion was much more impressive.
"Okay boys!" I heard a turian yell as the Brute slumped to the ground. "Now's our chance!"
"Shepard!" Garrus said urgently. "That's Victus! He's still alive!"
"Good to know," I said brightly.
As soon as my cloak recharged, I turned it on—both so I could safely look around and so I could do some looting in the midst of combat without anyone calling me out on it. Though I might not have been successful on that last one, judging by the look Miranda gave me afterwards. But I digress. We saw several more Reaper forces running around. Garrus targeted the Marauder first with an EMP. I joined him on taking pot-shots at its ugly mug. James finished it off with a concussive round while Miranda found a second Marauder to zap.
"Give it everything you've got," Victus urged.
Working on it. As I watched, the Marauder began regenerating its shields. Garrus stopped that with a second EMP. I hit it with a fireball. A few more bullets finally put it down. We began firing at a third Marauder, only to pause as a Brute casually lumbered by, looking for someone to squash. "Keep firing at the Marauder," I ordered. "But keep an eye on that Brute."
As if it heard me, the Brute headed our way. The team didn't need me to tell them to switch targets. As we frantically shot the thing, my eye caught something. It looked like a gun. A really big gun. Or a miniaturized Reaper leg. Whatever it was, maybe it would help us out. Before I could think about it, I found myself diving for the mysterious weapon, aiming it at the Brute and pulling the trigger.
…
Nothing happened over the next few seconds. If it wasn't for the faint whining noise that suggested it was charging up, I would have thought it was broken. I kept it aimed at the Brute, though, as the thing could discharge at any second.
"Let's bring the goddamn bastards to their knees!" Victus exhorted.
I did more than that when the weapon finally went off. A bright flash of light flew out from the barrel, hit the Brute and exploded with a force reminiscent of a tactical nuke. Needless to say, the Brute was vaporized. Several other Marauders and Cannibals were wiped out or seriously injured as well, either from the blast or the resulting shockwave.
Before I could think to scan the thing for future use, the thing practically melted apart in my hands. Probably just as well: with my luck it would accidentally discharge again and take out the Normandy and everybody on it.
"Shepard! A little help here?"
Apparently the shockwave had knocked Garrus and James off their feet. Cursing, I quickly ran a medical scan. No serious injuries that a dose of medi-gel couldn't cure. That would be the second and third time, though. I'd never had to use that much medi-gel in such a short time. Then again, I'd never been in a war of this magnitude. At least Miranda was okay—she'd apparently found a boulder to duck behind just in the nick of time.
While Garrus and James were getting back on their feet, Miranda watched over them, zapping a nearby Marauder with an EMP. I cloaked, snuck around it and fired three shotgun rounds into its back. Spotting another Marauder, I sent a fireball arcing over a boulder and down onto its head. To my surprise, there were two more explosions, courtesy of Garrus and James. Switching to my submachine gun, I quickly finished it off and continued hunting for hostiles.
I sighted another Marauder running around. An EMP, a fireball, some bullets, another fireball and a concussive round finished it off. Running forward, I scooped up some more ammo and hurled some more plasma at a Cannibal. Miranda used her biotics to pummel another one. Garrus and James were more than ready to pitch in. Then we just filled them full of lead. Watching them snap-freeze and shatter was very satisfying.
And then the fight was over. For now.
A turian emerged from one of the outposts, clad in a black hardsuit with red trim. I caught Garrus's eye and jerked my head towards him. Garrus nodded in confirmation. "General Victus?" I called out.
"Yes?"
"I'm Commander Shepard of the Normandy."
"Ah, Commander." Victus holstered his assault rifle. "I know who you are. I can't wait to find out what brings you out here."
That wouldn't last.
"Vakarian," Victus greeted Garrus. "Where did you go?"
"Heavy Reaper unit on the right flank," Garrus reminded him. "I believe your exact words were 'Get that thing the hell off my men.'"
"Appreciate it," Victus replied.
With that out of the way, I took a step forward. "General, you're needed off-planet. I've come to get you. It's important."
Victus was courteous, but firm in his response: "It will take something beyond 'important' for me to leave my men, or my turian brothers and sisters, in their fight."
Okay. I didn't exactly explain things properly. Time to try again.
"Fedorian was killed. You're the new Primarch."
Or I could just let Garrus do it. That works too. Victus grew very still.
"You're needed immediately to chair a war summit and represent your people in the fight against the Reapers," I added.
There was a pause.
A silent Victus walked right past me. He stopped in the middle of the compound and stared up at Palaven. His homeworld. I walked towards him, but stopped when I was a few metres away. The poor guy needed some space to come to terms with this latest development.
"I'm Primarch of Palaven?" Victus whispered in disbelief. "Negotiating for the Turian Hierarchy?"
My heart went out to him. Here's a guy who was just trying to be a soldier and a leader, and now, without any warning or preparation whatsoever, he was given the sudden news that yes, he had to assume the additional responsibilities of making decisions for his entire species. Ring any bells? Yeah, I thought so. "That's right," I confirmed.
Victus turned back slowly. "I've spent my whole life in the military. I'm no diplomat… I hate diplomats."
"Join the club," I offered. When he didn't reply, I asked "What makes you think you're not qualified?"
"I'm not really a 'by the book' kind of guy… and I piss people off," Victus said bluntly.
"Join the club," I repeated.
"My family's been military since the Unification War. War is my life. It's in my bones." He paused before adding "But that kind of passion is… deceptive. Can make you seem reckless when you're anything but."
Translation: he was well aware of all the rumours floating around about him and wanted to state that the truth was anything but. "War is your resume," I said. "You know the kinds of things that can happen. How things can fall apart. How you have to do more with less. How the soldiers under your command aren't just numbers or statistics, but real, breathing men and women. And how they can be forced to endure horrible things. At a time like this, we need leaders who've been through that hell. We need you." (11)
"Perhaps you're right," Victus smiled.
"And honestly," I told him, "uniting these races may take as much strength as fighting the Reapers. See this devastation, Primarch?" I asked, spreading my arms to take in the desolation of Menae and the destruction across Palaven. "Double that for Earth. I need an alliance. I need the turian fleets."
Victus and I looked at each other for a long time. I could see the pain he'd endured over his career and how that paled in comparison to the nightmare that had just begun. The crippling burden that weighed down his shoulders. The reluctance of having to assume this new role and the knowledge that duty demanded nothing less.
I don't know what he saw in my eyes. Probably a gleam from all the hostiles I'd set on fire.
"Give me a moment to say goodbye to my men," Victus said at last.
"Sure," I nodded. I stepped aside and let him approach the soldiers he'd commanded, fought beside and bled for. Garrus watched him for a few seconds before turning at me. "Without him down here, there's a good chance we lose this moon."
My response was equally blunt: "Without him up there, there's a good chance we lose everything."
Garrus turned away sharply and stared at the Reaper looming above us. It was impossible to miss it, as big and relentless and unfathomably powerful as it was. I very much doubted it was even aware of our presence, what with our being such short-lived and tiny gnats. "Look at that!" Garrus began laughing. "And they want my opinion on how to stop it? Failed C-Sec officer, failed vigilante… and I'm their expert advisor?"
"Did you at least get any benefits?" I asked. "Extra pay? Parking spot?"
A sharp bark of laughter was my only reply. "Think you can win this thing, Shepard?" Garrus asked.
This was the part where I was supposed to put on some brave face of optimism and run through some inspirational speech. If it was some green-behind-the-ears rookie who was in over his head, I might have even considered that.
But this was Garrus. One of the few people who'd stood by my side and believed in me from the very beginning. One of the fewer people who'd actually fought, bled and almost died beside me during my hunt for Saren and my quest to stop the Collectors. Even if I wasn't too sick and tired to bother pretending, the simple fact was that I owed him more than some rote bullshit. "I don't know, Garrus," I admitted softly. "I really don't know. But I'm sure as hell gonna give it my best shot."
"I'm damn sure nobody else can do it," Garrus said. "For whatever it's worth, I'm with you."
"Really? What about being the big advisor to Palaven?"
"As long as your comm systems aren't shot, I can still do that from the Normandy," Garrus replied. "Besides, something tells me I'd be more effective with you than I would be here."
That was seriously the greatest news I'd heard all day. "Welcome aboard," I beamed.
Now to get the other turian and haul ass outta here. "Are you ready, Primarch Victus?"
Primarch Victus said a last few words to his men before joining us. "One thing," he said.
Aw, crap.
"Commander, I appreciate your need for our fleets, but I can't spare them," Victus told me. "Not while my world is burning. But if the pressure could be taken off Palaven…"
Oh for crying out loud. For someone who claimed he wasn't a politician, he was sure doing a good job sounding like one. "That's might be a tall order," I managed. "What did you have in mind?"
"We need the krogan."
Scratch what I said earlier: now it was a tall order. "Come again?" I blinked.
"We need the krogan," Victus repeated. "I can't see us winning this thing without them. Get them to help us, and then we can help you."
I looked back helplessly at my team, my mind going back to that earlier conversation we'd had about all the wonderfully bitter history between the turians and the krogan. It was clear that they were thinking the same thing. "The krogan…" I said. "You want them… to help you…"
It was Garrus who summed it up nicely: "Looks like your summit just got a lot more interesting."
(1): The line Shepard is referring to is 'the best laid schemes of mice and men' from the 1786 poem 'To a Mouse' by human poet Robert Burns, a line commonly paraphrased as 'the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.' It has since entered common vernacular to mean that even the most carefully and comprehensively prepared plans may go awry.
(2): An acronym for 'as soon as possible.' Originally of human origin, it quickly entered galactic vernacular.
(3): A surprising concession, given Shepard's usual kleptomania. While he would routinely help himself to credits, medi-gel and other items, he would continue this practise of only scanning weapons during the Reaper War.
(4): A human saying based on the buoyancy of frozen water, meaning that what was visible or evident was only a small part of a larger problem.
(5): Another human acronym that quickly became popular, this one standing for 'missing in action.'
(6): I suppose I should be flattered.
(7): During his time preparing for the Collectors, Garrus developed a reputation for obsessing over calibrations, both in general and towards the main weapon systems, specifically.
(8): An effortless or simple action that guaranteed success. The saying comes from the days before refrigeration, where fish were packed and stored alive in large barrels. As the barrels were packed to the rim with fish, any gunshot fired at them would hit at least one fish.
(9): These constructs would subsequently be known as Brutes, following Shepard's term for them.
(10): Further evidence of James's penchant for nicknames.
(11): The same could be same of Shepard. Naturally he doesn't realize it.