Chapter 6b
pt. 2
Normandy SR2, approaching Chandrasekhar relay, bridge
"Commander, can you believe this?! It's my baby, she's better than new, fits me like a glove! And leather seats!"
Having inspected the ship top to bottom, Shepard decided to pay a visit to what he believed was one of the Normandy's integral 'parts' - its jolly helmsman.
"Military may set the hardware standard, but on a first-gen frigate they could care less if the seats breathe. Civilian sector comfort by design."
A blue hologram popped up besides Joker, and a robotic voice added.
"The reproduction is not intended to be perfect, Mr. Moreau. Seamless improvements were made."
"And there's the down-side. I liked the Normandy when she was beautiful and quiet. Now she's got this thing I don't want to talk about. It's like ship-cancer."
Shepard blew a gust of air through his nose. Jeff Moreau truly lived up to his nickname.
"It's okay, Joker. Think of it as a little insurance on the part of the Illusive Man. He did invest a fortune into building the ship, and developing EDI... and bringing me back."
Joker sighed.
"I know, I know. AI I can understand, but I'm still getting used to Cerberus warming up to aliens. That professor we're supposed to pick up is a Salarian, right?"
"Yes, a certain Mordin Solus. The Illusive Man believes him to be our best bet at bypassing the Collectors' stasis fields."
"Stasis fields?"
Joker scratched his head as he glanced back at the holo-screens behind him.
"That's how they get you, right? Immobilize, and scoop up?"
"So it would seem."
"I wonder what they are doing with all those people. On second thought, I don't think I want to know."
"Can't be anything good. In any case, the professor is our ticket to not getting kidnapped by the Collectors, so we have to get him out of whatever mess awaits us after the next jump. You ready for some action?"
"You bet, Commander. The alliance has been blue-balling me long enoug - eh?"
Joker's lively description came to a sudden stop, interrupted by a clap of boots against Normandy's floor.
Miranda walked briskly towards the cockpit, her gaze absorbed in something displayed on her omni-tool.
"You two. You will want to see this. The Illusive Man says diplomatic channels are on fire with fresh info from Omega. Apparently, someone leaked this to the Asari."
She flicked her hand once, rotating the screen so that Shepard and Joker could see.
A short video showing a gunfight between depot guards and unknown assailants that appeared out of nowhere.
"What... are we looking at, exactly?"
Shepard asked, a small part of him unsure if she was pulling a prank on him.
"That's the million credit question, Shepard. I would say we're about to find out, but the Illusive Man had given us explicit orders not to engage, or even come close to these things. We are supposed assess the situation, and if possible rescue the candidates, professor Solus being the obvious priority. We're already looking for a replacement, however. Our mission is too important to jeopardize with this."
Miranda closed the vid. Perfect as she was, she was not immune to stress and fatigue, and two blueish crescents decorated the skin right below her eyes.
"In the worst case scenario that we have to fight, we have enough heavy weapons to outfit each squad member, and enough ammo for several engagements."
"Hopefully it won't come to that."
Shepard wondered if the unknown group could be reasoned with. After all, he had enough diplomatic talent to talk down an enraged Krogan battlemaster on Virmire, and even rouse what remained of Saren's mind for one final moment.
"Anything I should know?"
Joker asked, his usually cheerful voice marred with worry. The galaxy was already a nasty place with Reapers and Collectors running around. Was this new threat really necessary? - he silently asked the universe.
"Yes. Apparently, the assailants are operating from a powerful dreadnought that had managed to disable Omega's defences, but data on that is sketchy at best. You'll be updated if any new information comes up. Same orders apply; we are risking neither the Normandy, nor our lives."
"Sounds good to me, ma'am."
Joker swiveled his seat around. It still felt strange, taking orders from a Cerberus officer. Even if he worked for them, he didn't quite feel like a part of the organization... he clearly remembered the stories of Shepard's previous encounters with the group, and although he'd seen and experienced the more noble side of Cerberus, just knowing what they're capable of gave him chills.
"Approaching Chandrasekhar relay now. Buckle up, everyone."
The Normandy swayed to the side, lining up with the relay, and disappeared in a flash of blue light.
Back on Omega, the things were starting to return to normal. A normal which included a despotic government, forced labor, and general misery, that is.
In three days the invaders had all but destroyed any attempts at organized resistance, deployed thousands of troops to maintain order, and even managed to get over a third of the defenders on their side; in the form of the Krogan-Vorcha mercenary group and a score of minor gangs that were simply looking out for themselves.
Not to say that the defenders were defeated entirely; while the Blue Suns were eventually broken and hunted down, their leader brought to Garm as promised, the Eclipse went into hiding and would likely be a thorn in the new management's side in the following months. But for now, things were quiet.
The station's seat of power, aptly named Afterlife Bastion, was further fortified with pre-fabricated defenses and gun-servitors.
Inside the command chamber, yet another ceremony was taking place, this time with only a single astarte.
A space marine sergeant approached the base's command throne, and took a knee.
The throne's occupant spoke first.
"Lysimak, old friend, you have done well. You fought and defeated our enemies on many battlefields, and even brought us new blood. I think a well-deserved reward is in order."
Lord Hasdrubal grabbed a richly decorated box that sat on the armrest.
"May this weapon serve you as you have served me, lieutenant."
He proclaimed, making sure he accentuated his underling's new rank.
Lysimak received the box, and wasted no time opening it. A master crafted plasma pistol glinted in the artificial light.
"It is exquisite, my lord."
An exquisite trinket, he didn't dare say. Likewise, a lieutenant had no defined position in this warband. It could mean being a bodyguard, commanding an armored platoon, or even temporarily leading a space marine company.
However, Hasdrubal wouldn't allow ugly ideas to form in the freshly promoted astarte's head.
"For now, your task is to pacify the station in my absence. You will be given two more squads and several battalions of mortal troops; make sure our engineers' work isn't interfered with. The population will be given workstations. Whether you come up with their work regimen, or delegate the task to someone else is up to you. Make examples of dissenters if required."
The mission seemed to be exactly what Lysimak had feared - garrison duty. Being an Iron Warrior, he knew very well that whoever fell out of Perturabo's favor during the Great Crusade would get reassigned to a random remote outpost. A boring, uneventful assignment, with little to no chance at advancing in rank. Marvelous.
The expression on his face didn't go unnoticed.
"I am not done yet, Lieutenant. We have enough gene-seed in storage that we can raise at least two more companies, perhaps more. I will take the ship to the nearest human colony to find us some new recruits.
But I happen to be short on captains. I trust you will help me in that endeavor, won't you?
Do well now, and more rewards will follow."
Hasdrubal added with a smirk. A hint like that was likely to placate any aspiring champion.
"Of course, my lord. I will not fail you."
Now that was a tone Hasdrubal wanted to hear. He saluted back to the lieutenant as he stood up and allowed his subordinate to take the seat.
"The station is yours, Lieutenant."
He turned around, marched back to the docking bay where his bodyguards waited, and began a journey back to Bellator's bridge, first through one of the retractable walkways which connected the docked vessel and the station, and then the winding corridors of the grand cruiser itself. The mortal soldiers and servants scattered and bowed as he went past, headed for the main elevator shaft that would take him directly to the bridge.
Now, to the task at hand...
Hasdrubal opened the ship's command interface, and a hidden projector brought a holographic map of the galaxy into existence. The techpriests had integrated many of the local star-charts with their own technology surprisingly quickly, courtesy of the engineering-oriented captives and the hereteks' own abilities.
The chaos lord swiftly scrolled through a catalogue of logged human colonies in the Terminus systems. Surprisingly, there weren't that many.
One was too far, the other too close to Alliance space; most of them had a combination of factors which either made them unsuitable for recruitment or were simply too far, on the other side of the galaxy. At last, he found something worthwhile. A colony with developed chemical industry, which usually meant a toxic world with a large, hardy population - a perfect place to find several hundred viable candidates.
Its name was Fehl Prime.
Having unloaded all the necessary equipment and personnel that the proper occupation of Omega demanded, Ferrum Bellator depressurized and retracted its docking corridors, and set sail into the void. After a minute of careful maneuvering through the asteroid field, a hole in reality tore open, and the vessel slipped into the immaterium.
On the bridge, the warband's higher ups - the resident sorcerer and heretek magos - were submitting their reports.
The first to do so was the Logician, who had spent the last forty-eight hours tearing through information obtained over the extranet or provided by the locals, analyzing technologies never seen before, paying special attention to the curious ore that made up the bulk of Omega's exports.
"My lord, if not for the persistent ache caused by my less advanced mechanical components, I would believe myself to be dead, and this to be heaven. I have discovered wonders my fellow researchers could only speculate about!"
The robed cyborg walked euphorically up and down before the ship's command throne, its many limbs waving around various electro-mechanical devices that were seemingly ripped apart from other, more complex machines, whose purpose would've been a complete unknown to people without appropriate interface implants or very specific engineering expertise.
The chaos lord's featureless expression failed to dissuade the techpriest from his enthusiastic tirade.
"Can you imagine? Widespread antigrav technology, available even to the common laborer! Machine spirits whose sophistication matches the artificial intelligence which the Martian priesthood so hates and fears! Mass produced multi-purpose automata, personal energy shields and power armor technology predating anything I've ever seen!"
One by one, he presented the pieces of tech that apparently weren't useless junk, describing each in a way only a raving mad scientist could. The last was a wonder-mineral that the captured station apparently produced.
"And THIS! This rock emits a previously unknown form of dark energy when exposed to electric current, giving it ability to manipulate gravity to the extent only the ancients had achieved! It is the key of the local faster-than-light travel technology, which doesn't involve warp travel at all."
"The blue ore?"
Hasdrubal squinted as he observed the glowing rock.
"I'm going to assume you already have ideas how to use this thing to our advantage. You will notify me before you proceed with anything."
The heretek bowed in acknowledgement.
"Yes, my lord. I will conduct more experiments tonight, and will compile a possible list of upgrades as soon as my other duties permit."
The Logician said as he clanked away from the bridge towards his chambers.
"Zynthos. Your turn."
The sorcerer divided his attention between steering the ship and talking to his superior. Something he would be very reluctant to do, if not for the warp's peculiar stability.
"As usual, I was proven correct; there are no psykers among the captive population. Every single human possesses a baseline, Pi-level psychic rating, give or take a few individuals, but none in the negative. The same cannot be said for the aliens. While most are entirely talentless, the blue skinned aliens possess a greater imprint in the warp. Still, I have failed to detect any conscious control over the Empyrean."
The chaos lord nodded, yet he seemed dissatisfied.
"What of the combat abilities witnessed by our troops, then? What I have seen on pict-captures was clearly some form of telekinesis."
The sorcerer adamantly shook his head.
"I ordered some of the recruited reptilian xenos to demonstrate. Whatever implants or combat drugs they derive these abilities from, they aren't warp-based. The xenos are completely blind to the other plane."
"Very well, then. Carry on, Zynthos."
Hasdrubal said, as he fell into deep thought, contemplating the findings.
Author's note:
Hello, everyone!
This chapter was on the more boring side, but think of it like a calm before the storm.
It is also more than late, thanks to my job(s) and other duties. And a little laziness.
Luckily, my break has started and I should be able to shell out several more in quick succession, like I was able last year when the fanfic was uploaded.
We'll see the spiky boys tackle various problems, from first contacts with the major powers to meeting the collectors... some will come earlier, some later.
I hope you're all staying healthy, having fun, graduating, getting closer to graduation, and being successful overall!
PS: fanfiction's built in doc editor isn't very cooperative today, and it completely blew up the paragraph formatting that I hoped to carry over from my docx. Hopefully the text won't be all over the place when I update the story.