Chapter 8: Angels

May 8th, 2185 CE

Omega Nebula / Sahrabarik System / Omega Station

The shuttle ride was quiet. Miranda was upset at how little planning had gone into their plan, and Jacob knew better than to talk when Miranda was unhappy. The stunning Cerberus agent had all sorts of elegant, clever solutions for getting Archangel out. The simplest involved burrowing a tunnel through the asteroid, the most complicated used flights of Cerberus gunships and hit and run attacks along the perimeter. Shepard heard them with polite disbelief before finally putting her foot down.

She had no doubt that Miranda's plans could have worked, given enough time and control of the situation, and they probably would have had fewer deaths to boot, but they wouldn't work here and now, which was what mattered. She'd tried to be patient while she explained that plots and intricate plans worked well when you could control the battlefield, but when you couldn't, the best approach was usually the simplest, most direct one.

Which was why they were planning to go over the bridge with the distraction team, finish off any survivors, fight their way through the mercenaries already in place with the bomb, and get to Archangel. If killing off his attackers didn't convince Archangel they were on his side, well, they'd have to talk fast.

Miranda hadn't given up for a long time, but in the end, Shepard was unmoved and she at last fell silent with the parting quip that "you don't even have a plan for getting out." Which, sadly, was true. To be honest, Shepard didn't much care. They would come up with something on the spot, and if it worked, they'd get out, and if it didn't, they'd die. Maybe even stay dead, unless this was going to turn into some terrible horror movie where she kept coming back to die again and again.

Okay, maybe she was still feeling a little stung by Anderson and the Council sending her out into the Terminus with nobody but Cerberus for company.

In the end, Miranda had been forced to back down by the Illusive Man's standing orders to follow her lead. At last, the shuttle set down and they emerged in another block of grimy streets, and the pilot, another Blue Suns merc, stepped out and broke the silence.

"It's about time they sent me someone who actually looks like they can fight. They tell you what we're up against?"

Shepard took the lead. "Narrow bridge under sniper fire, right?"

"Yeah. I'm impressed you guys signed up knowing the truth. Most back out once we go into details. He's got superior position and that bridge is the only way in or out. It's a killing ground. But he's getting tired, making mistakes. We'll have him soon enough."

Jacob still couldn't let it go. "Sounds like a suicide mission to me." Of course, it was directed more at her than the mercenary.

The Blue Sun shrugged. "Pretty much, but you look like you can handle it. Head up to the third barricade and ask for Sergeant Cathka. He'll tell you when to go in." With a parting wave he was back in the shuttle.

Well, they were going into battle together, might as well put Miranda a little at ease by confirming their assessment with the Cerberus AI, right? "EDI, are there any other ways in?"

"Shepard, I have scanned the area, but am unable to plot any other paths to Archangel."

"I guess we're going with the mercs."

"The mercenary groups have heavy mechs and a gunship which possess considerable firepower. Weakening them before leaving will improve your chances."

Now that was a good idea.

…

The mercenaries had the place well and truly surrounded. A whole series of barricades made of confiscated furniture and whatever other odds and ends they could get their hands on were lined up facing the bridge and around the sides, all pouring fire into Archangel's makeshift base. They had to walk through the temporary headquarters of all three of the Eclipse, Blue Suns, and the Blood Pack to reach the front, and it occurred to Shepard that Miranda's and Jacob's visible Cerberus logos were a very, very bad idea. Fortunately, the battle seemed to have the mercenaries distracted. Those that weren't actively shooting were planning.

Shepard rehearsed what she knew about each group as they marched through their soldiers, her helmet already sealed. It wouldn't do to get recognized. Again.

The Eclipse Security Company was famed for its ability to get things done quietly. They only accepted recruits with biotic powers or in-depth technical prowess and liked to move in small and fast strike teams, relying more on strategy and less on stand-up confrontation. Wherever their mostly asari, salarian, or human members showed up, smuggling of both the cargo and sentient variety wasn't far behind.

The Blue Suns Private Security Company was all but a standard army for hire. They accepted just about everyone, though they didn't pay as well. This left them with mostly humans and batarians without biotics, but they had the numbers and shields to give anyone problems. Lacking the individual punch of the Eclipse or the staying power and raw toughness of the Blood Pack, they relied heavily on coordination, teamwork, and discipline under fire.

And then there was the Blood Pack. They were the heavy muscle of whatever operation they were involved in, favoring straight fights to anything complicated. Officially they were exclusively krogan, though they relied heavily on vorcha to give them numbers. The Blood Pack were shock troops, and undeniably effective. And intimidating, Shepard noted as she carefully skirted around Garm, the local Blood Pack leader. He towered over her, huge even for a krogan.

Standing well over two meters tall and built on just as big a scale, in armor a krogan weighed more than a ton. Garm had a heavy plate which ran from the large hump on his back down to the eyes set on each side of his face. Other natural plates covered vital parts of the reptilian species to protect a system of secondary and occasionally even tertiary organs. They could eat almost anything, live almost anywhere, and until the galactic community hit them with a virus which drastically lowered krogan birthrates called the Genophage, reproduced extremely rapidly. If that wasn't enough to make them dangerous warriors, they were also extremely aggressive, both with their own kind and aliens. Add to that the skill that a thousand-plus years of experience offered, and you had just about the ultimate fighter.

Fortunately, since the Genophage there weren't all that many of them, which explained the vorcha's presence all around their leader. Not that they were much better. The vorcha were the most short-lived of sapient species, with an average lifespan of only twenty years. Many denied that they were sentient at all, given their tendency to resort to instinctive violence and intimidation first and language a distant second. They were best known for their unique biology. Each vorcha had clusters of non-differentiated cells throughout their body which allowed them to quickly adapt to any new environment as the cells matured into whatever form would most effectively ensure their survival. This also allowed the vorcha to heal remarkably quickly, at least until their supply of cells ran out. They were also savage, quick, and uncomfortable with verbal forms of communication, leading most people to consider them nothing more than pests. Even if those "pests" could wield flamethrowers.

All in all, there were no easy targets when it came to the Blood Pack. Their strategy was just to soak up your fire and keep right on coming until they could tear you apart at close range. Which was why Shepard was content to put as much distance as possible between them and the Blood Pack.

With EDI's help they managed to locate the converted storage room filled with Eclipse ready mechs. Jacob and Shepard stood guard while Miranda did something fancy with their computer network. She claimed it would reclassify their Identify Friend/Foe system, and Shepard devoutly hoped it would work.

At last, they wound their way forward to find a sea of freelancers huddled well behind the frontmost barricade. They were the only group without matching armor, and the only group to look terrified while still way back behind cover in an impromptu flight hangar. Seeing new arrivals, the freelancers waved them forward to talk to Sergeant Cathka.

The batarian sergeant looked up from his work, alternating between a blowtorch and an arc welder on the hull of a gunship. "Ah, you must be the group Salkie mentioned."

"Were you waiting for us?"

"Yeah, the infiltration team is about to give us the signal. Archangel won't know what hit him. Got any questions? This may be your last chance." He put down his tools and lit up a cigarette.

Well, humanity had added at least one thing to the galactic community. "What kind of Gunship is this?" Shepard cast an appreciative eye over the strong lines of the black ship.

Cathka smiled, happy to show off his toy. "The A-61 Mantis Gunship. It's kind of like your old helicopters, though the Eezo core gives it far more kick than anything you've ever had."

She raised an eyebrow.

"What? I'm a history buff. Well, military history." He shrugged. "Trust me, you humans have never seen anything like the Precision Kill Rockets on this baby, and the M350 guns? Ha! They'd cut through you like a gnavor through a flock of squrlsirs. The best ground support ship in the galaxy." He patted its heavy armor affectionately.

Gnavors and squrlsirs aside, it certainly was a formidable craft. And not something Shepard wanted left behind to deal with later. A comm buzz sounded before Shepard could reply and Cathka hurried off to the nearest diagnostic console. Shepard nodded to Miranda, who quickly set to work with her omnitool. With any luck she could at least take down its shields.

"Check. Bravo team, go, go!" shouted the batarian urgently.

The other freelancers headed out, jumping the last barricade and firing frantically (and inaccurately) towards Archangel's position. Shepard led the little trio after themt, pausing only to smash the butt of her shotgun into the back of Cathka's helmet. Hopefully he'd be stunned, not killed. That was the problem with talking to people who needed killing; it made it all so much harder.

They joined the rush of freelancers across the bridge, keeping up the pace even as three were cut down by murderously accurate sniper rifle fire from the building's second story. The tricky bit was choosing when to reveal their true allegiance. Too close to the barricade and they'd get torn to pieces from both sides. Too far, and Archangel might take one of them out. They weren't kidding when they said it was an exposed bridge; they were completely at Archangel's mercy.

Shepard waited until the end of the bridge, then pulled the trigger on the freelancers. It took a moment for the freelancers to realize what had happened; it took less time than that for the trio to cut through them, with Shepard's shotgun blowing holes in the freelancers' backs. For the last freelancer, in a panic trying to retreat across the bridge, she focused all her power and lifted him clear off the ground. Floating in the air, he was easy prey for the sniper round that blew his head off. If that wasn't a clear signal of friendly intention, she didn't know what was.

That left the infiltration crew.

She started falling into her pattern, probing with the Katana around each corner, easing forwards. The battle continued outside, evidenced by the sound of machine gun fire and the hear-it-for-kilometers concussion of a Mantis sniper rifle. Mercenaries fell before her fire almost without her notice. She was acting on instinct, reacting before she could consciously follow her decision-making process. The mercs didn't last long, the last falling as he desperately pounded against the sealed door to Archangel, calling out for mercy. Her Katana shotgun silenced him before she even registered his words.

When she did, it shook her.

There was battle focus, but this was something different. It was a return of what she'd been on the Lazarus station, a mindless creature of violence and death, confused about her purpose, intentions, and even identity. But Archangel was ahead, and there was no time to pause, no time to think. She raced forward, running away as much as she ran forward.

They charged around the corner, weapons leveled, to reveal Archangel, a turian with deep blue, heavy combat armor. He hardly even acknowledged them, merely holding up a three-fingered hand. He may have been a different species, but the gesture was almost identical to its human equivalent: give me a second. If Archangel was worried or concerned having three unknowns with weapons at his back, he sure didn't show it.

The turian never took his gaze off the scope and returned his free hand to settle beneath a Mantis sniper rifle. The rifle boomed, marking the death of yet another mercenary, and the turian turned, slow with exhaustion, and removed his helmet. He looked up at Shepard with light blue eyes. "Shepard... I thought you were dead."

"Garrus!" The confusion, the turmoil over what she'd done, evaporated in that moment. For a moment her enthusiasm returned full measure. She had a friend, a real friend, who'd been through so much with her in taking down the Reaper Sovereign and its pet Spectre, Saren. "What are you doing here?"

"Just keeping my skills sharp. A little target practice." Garrus tried to be flippant, but he was obviously pushing himself to the limit just getting the words out.

Her rampant enthusiasm calmed a bit as she finally recognized the strain he was under. "You okay?"

"I've been better, but it sure is nice to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work. Especially on my own."

The fire from the barricades, mostly died down while they waited the results of the infiltration team, started to pick back up again. No time to chat.

"Well, we got here, but I don't think getting out will be as easy." Despite the seriousness of the situation, Shepard caught Miranda giving her an "I told you so" look behind Garrus' back. Shepard rolled her eyes.

Garrus turned and started pacing restlessly. "No, it won't. That bridge has saved my life, funneling all those witless idiots into scope. But it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way."

"So we just sit here and wait for them to take us out? That's the plan?" Three guesses who that was.

Garrus glanced at Miranda, puzzled, but too tired to figure out what her problem was. "It's not that bad. This place has held them off so far. And, with three of you, I suggest we hold this location, wait for a crack in their defenses, and take our chances. It's not a perfect plan... but it's a plan."

"If we fight as a team, we'll hold them off," Shepard cut in before Miranda could make another smart remark. She put the slightest emphasis on "team."

Garrus was putting it all together.

"You're right. Their numbers won't help them in here anyway. Let's see what they're up to." He broke off pacing to look out the front window, glass long since shattered, using the scope of his rifle to take a closer view. "Hmm... looks like they know their infiltration team failed. Take a look."

He handed Shepard the rifle. The weapon was heavier than she was used to, its center of gravity farther forward than on any other weapon she used, but the sight revealed a handful of mechs, painted with the insignia of the Eclipse Security Company.

"That looks like a lot more than scouts." She handed the rifle back to Garrus.

"Indeed. We'd better get ready. I'll stay up here, I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point. You... you can do what you do best." He offered her a strained smile. "Just like old times, Shepard. Let's give these bastards hell."

The fire from the barricades kicked up in a sudden crescendo, and the Eclipse mercenaries made their move. The wave of light mechs charged over the barrier, followed closely by a full squad of Eclipse soldiers in their distinctive yellow armor marked with a stylized black ring of an eclipse with an "E" in the center.

The team crashed down behind the barricade Garrus had constructed in his little fort and returned fire frantically. Garrus handed over his assault rifle, a high-powered M-15 Vindicator, to Jacob and proceeded to wreak havoc with his Mantis. Jacob's three-round bursts helped force the approaching mercenaries behind cover, slowing them enough to give Garrus a better chance at finishing them off. Shepard and Miranda, with no real long-range weapons of their own, cut loose with their biotics, trying to pull soldiers from cover. What Garrus struggled to accomplish alone was quite manageable with four experienced fighters.

"Look Shepard, over behind the barricade, on the left!" Shepard followed Garrus' pointing finger and could just make out a salarian in Eclipse armor, gesticulating wildly and talking on his com. "That's Jaroth, the head of Eclipse on Omega. I've been after him for months. He's been shipping tainted eezo all over Citadel Space. Half the goods I seized back at Citadel Security came from his team here on Omega. I took out a big shipment of his a while back and got his top lieutenant in the process. Here's hoping we get him, too."

The reason for Jaroth's conversation became abruptly clear as an industrial lifter leaned out from behind the opposing barricade and deposited a heavy YMIR mech on the narrow bridge. The rest of the Eclipse band swarmed out behind it, confident that with the mech to cover them they had enough bodies to rush the position. Garrus seemed to concur.

"Damn it, they're sending out the heavy mechs."

Shepard only smiled. "That problem should take care of itself."

The moment the mech activated it turned to meet the nearest life signs, which happened to be the Eclipse soldiers. Whatever Miranda had done, she'd done it well. The mech laid into them, allowing everyone in Garrus' hideout a moment to breathe. Eventually the mech went down under the sheer volume of fire the mercenaries put up, but by then only a few mercs were still on their feet. Garrus personally finished off Jaroth with a look of satisfaction.

…

Shepard and Garrus sat side by side, their backs to the barricade. Garrus ejected his overheated thermal clip and watched it scuttle across the floor, already littered from his days-long battle. At his side lay a bucket filled with water, thermal clips bouncing happily on its surface. A simple but effective way of quickly cooling down spent clips for reuse. Shepard played with a new scratch on her armor where a tiny projectile had pinged off her and into the ceiling above. Garrus sat back, his eyes closed.

She had to keep reassuring herself that he was actually there, she felt so upbeat, so happy that it seemed that at any second she would wake up and see it wasn't actually Garrus. She gave him a little nudge.

"There's still the Blue Suns and Blood Pack. Think we can make a break for it?"

You could almost see his mind reengage. He was really out of it. "Maybe. Let's see what they're up to." He dragged himself slowly to his feet and gazed out over the bridge. It was a scene of devastation.

The bridge itself was littered with debris, its guard rails shattered by fire from both sides. Intermingled with the concrete were mech parts from the shattered remnants of the Eclipse squad. The YMIR mech stood, partially intact, though the still-smoking remains of its targeting sensors and upper torso meant that, even with a mechanic, it would be down for a long, long time. The bodies of six Eclipse mercenaries lay splayed around it, testament to its durability.

The vids always made battle out to be so clean, but the truth was different. Nobody died clean. Blood was splattered across the merc's barricade where Shepard's team had ripped through the mercenaries coming over the wall. Human red was mixed with salarian yellow and asari blue all across the field, still dripping from stilled bodies. There were at least twenty on the bridge, limbs splayed, some half-hanging off into space. And that wasn't counting those that had gone over the edge. The last survivors had used the bodies of their fellows as cover before joining the pile themselves. Equipment lay scattered across the field, spare thermal clips, credit chits, weapons of all kinds, MREs; it was a complete mess. No fire came from the other barricades as they, too, took in the destruction of Eclipse on Omega.

Garrus, however, seemed to look right past it all. He was tired... but was that it? This would have stopped him in his tracks back when she met him at C-Sec. "They've reinforced the other side heavily. But they're not coming over the bridge yet. What are they waiting for?"

As if in answer a heavy concussion shook the building. Jacob, was quietly talking with Miranda, jumped to his feet. "What was that?"

Garrus frantically scrolled through displays on his omnitool. "Damn it. They've breached the lower level. Well, they had to use their brains eventually. You better get down there Shepard. I'll keep the bridge clear." He wearily picked up the Mantis he'd leaned carefully against the barricade railing.

There's no way I'm going to lose you right after I found you, Garrus. "Let's split up two and two—keep one of my team here."

Garrus looked relieved, though he tried to hide it. "You sure? Who knows what you'll find down there." Gallant as always, even when he was obviously well past his limit.

"Jacob, stay with Garrus. He'll need you to take out anything that gets close with that shotgun of yours." She grabbed Jacob's shoulder, feeling oddly vulnerable. "Keep him safe," she added in a whisper.

"My word on it"

"Thanks Shepard. You'd better get going."

She took one last look over the balcony as another wave of mercenaries scrambled over the wall and stumbled over the bodies of their fellows. She turned her back on them and charged down the stairs.