The Normandy's corridors were cold and empty. Shepard exhaled and watched her breath fog in front of her face. She was wearing her armour except for her helmet, but not her guns. Why didn't she have her guns? Her memory felt slippery, thoughts fraying when she tried to hang onto them.
"EDI?" she called out, her voice echoing strangely off the bulkhead. EDI didn't respond and she grit her teeth. "EDI, c'mon, this isn't funny."
"Shepard…" The voice was familiar - regal, asari.
She turned. For a moment she thought someone was standing in the doorway, dark and shadowy, but then the figure disappeared as soon as she looked at it properly.
"It's not that bad, ma'am…" another voice. Male, young, pained. Just as familiar. Coming from deeper in the CIC.
She started forward, hand reaching for a gun that wasn't there.
"I think we both know that's not going to happen, Commander-"
She stepped into the CIC. The hull above her head was peeled back, spars of metal protruding out like bare ribs, cables sparking and twisting like intestines. Her ship, mortally wounded.
She breathed in and felt ice in her lungs.
There was a man standing in the CIC, his back to her. His Alliance armour was bloodied, the ceramic cracked in several places.
When he turned, her heart twisted in her chest. Kaidan Alenko stared at her with none of his customary warmth in his eyes. When she tried to say his name, her voice stuck in her throat.
When he spoke, her name was an accusation on his lips.
Red light flooded around them and when she looked up and through the gash in the Normandy's hull, she saw dark metal and grasping limbs. An enemy that had been with her for years that felt like a lifetime. The Reaper spoke, in the screaming of horns, and the sound filled her head until it felt like her skull might explode.
She fell to her knees, looking up at Kaidan's bloody face.
The red light flooded downwards.
Shepard woke up in her cabin, her sheets tangled around her limbs, her head throbbing. She struggled to free herself from the sheets and then flopped back on the bed, breathing hard and sweating.
"EDI?" she called. "Disengage privacy mode."
"Disengaged," the AI replied and something like relief flooded through Shepard.
"How far out are we?"
"Four hours," EDI replied, "Commander Wulandri asked me not to wake you until we're two hours out."
"How're you two working together?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and running a hand through her hair.
"Commander Wulandri is wary of me but cooperative. I believe she trusts your judgement."
Shepard wasn't sure that was one hundred percent true, but she had chosen Wulandri not just because of her familiarity with the Normandy class but because she knew her new XO wouldn't hold back behind closed doors. And Wulandri had known her before Alchera. Maybe having her around would make it easier to slip back into being the dutiful Alliance officer.
"Good…good." She forced herself to her feet, trying to shake the image of Kaidan's face - and the hate in his eyes - out of her head. Kaidan hadn't been like that. He'd been brave and kind to the moment he'd closed the comm channel on her so she wouldn't have to listen to him die.
"Shepard, are you well?" the AI asked.
"Just a bad dream." In the bathroom she splashed her face and swallowed a couple of painkillers.
"Doctor T'Soni wishes to speak with you."
"Send her up." Liara wouldn't care how ragged she looked right now in the PT uniform she slept in. "And let the XO know I'm up in case she needs me."
"Of course."
There was a knock at the door. She hit the control and it opened to Liara, who looked like she'd had even less sleep than Shepard had.
"Liara," she rolled her neck.
"I've been liaising with the turian Councillor in regards to the Crucible, but he's not budging until the primarch is safe."
"I'm not surprised," Shepard rubbed her face. "Have you got any intel on what's going on in the Trebia System?"
"The Hierarchy is heavily engaged across the system," Liara said grimly, "and there are reports of husks and batarian troops on Palaven and Menae."
"Do we know anything about the batarian situation?"
"It appears fears that the Hegemon is indoctrinated were true and Hegemony forces are acting as auxiliaries for the Reapers. I have some reports of fighting on Khar'Shan and obviously there were those who fled, so it appears that not all batarian military forces are working for the enemy."
Shepard considered that. "Good to know."
If they could get in contact with those batarian forces still resisting…but that was an issue for another day.
Liara paused, studying her face. "Are you alright?"
Shepard shrugged. "Just didn't sleep well."
Liara's expression turned disbelieving. "There's more to it than that."
"Ash getting hurt - rattled me, I guess," Shepard shrugged half-heartedly.
Liara's gaze gentled. "You love her, Shepard. That is perfectly natural."
"I can't afford to lose my shit in combat," Shepard leant against the doorframe, "even if people have a tendency to get hurt around me." You never can keep them alive, can you, Shepard? Leng had always been an asshole but it didn't change the fact her orders had gotten a lot of people hurt or killed. Ash was the latest in a long line.
"Shepard," Liara chided, "You accomplished the mission and got Ash out of there. Don't blame yourself."
Garrus' side ached as he climbed out of the hammock he'd been sleeping in fitfully. It had been a long forty-nine hours of fighting, either advancing or withdrawing with the flow of the battle, sometimes having to run when their position crumbled. He'd started with five of his own people from his taskforce, but they'd been separated, and then he'd been with General Victus' legion before he'd had to lead a flanking manoeuvre and ended up here, at FOB Firax.
Everything was out of his claws now. He had to hope that what he'd done with Fedorian would help, and now try to make himself as useful as he could.
He scratched his face and reached down to find his rifle and helmet. He had slept in his armour and there was a nasty crick in his neck. The barracks around him was dim, several off-duty soldiers trying to grab what sleep they could before the next, inevitable, attack.
Much of Firax was dug into the rock of Menae, protecting it from bombardment, with only the airfield, comms tower and defences up top. Garrus had been in and out of a few of the moon's bases and they all looked the same.
He stepped over a corporal using her helmet as a pillow and emerged into the corridor, pulling his helmet on. The HUD slid across his vision in glowing blue lines. The lights were dimmed to preserve the base's power. Light and even heat was less important than the oxygen and mass effect generators, after all.
Garrus decided to grab whatever he could find to eat and then go looking for Corinthus and something worth doing.
The mess hall wasn't serving hot food but he ripped into a MRE, eating quickly as he could. It was when he stopped moving that he couldn't stop the thoughts bubbling up - about his homeland on fire, about his father and sister, about his best friend who might be dead already.
A scrap of conversation across the long, metal table caught his attention. Two sergeants in battered hardsuits, similarly digging into their MREs.
"Did you see the humans coming in?" One, a sandy-plated woman, asked.
"Humans?" he asked.
The sergeant glanced over at him, her mandibles flicking. "Uh - yessir. Some Alliance soldiers showed up a couple of hours ago. Bartus said they're looking for the primarch or something-"
Garrus swallowed the last of his MRE and rose to his feet. "Thanks. They're with the general?"
"I think so, sir."
If Alliance troops were here, maybe he could get some information on what was going on in human space.
The general's TOC was one of the most heavily shielded and heavily guarded, but the soldiers guarding the door let him through with only a cursory challenge. Authority - respectability - still felt very strange. Part of him felt like an imposter and had since his father had brought him to meet Primarch Fedorian, like they had to realise sometime that he was just a failed cop, a failed Spectre candidate and bad turian. Instead, slowly, they'd started to listen to him.
The TOC was full of the 6th Palaven Legion's officers and operation NCOs watching their consoles and tacnets, overseeing the unit's outposts and current operations. And, standing over a table with a holo projector in the centre, General Corinthus and their visitors.
"-normally succession is simple, but the Hierarchy is in chaos. Too many high ranking officers are dead or MIA."
"I understand, General," a familiar voice said, "but I gave Sparatus my word. I'm leaving this moon with a Primarch, one way or the other."
He flicked his mandibles as a jolt of joy went through him. "We'll find you the Primarch, Shepard."
Corinthus nodded to him. "Vakarian."
"General."
Shepard turned from the table, her face lighting up beneath her visor. "Garrus! Damned good to see you."
Flanking Shepard were Liara - Spirits he was glad to see two of his friends in one piece - and a human man he didn't recognise.
"Good to see you in one piece, Garrus," Liara smiled.
"You too, Liara."
"Garrus, this is Staff Sergeant Vega. Vega, this is Garrus. Helluva soldier, helped me take down Saren and the Collectors."
Vega nodded to him.
Shepard shook her head slightly, "I thought you'd be on Palaven."
Part of him still wished he was. "I'm the closest thing to a Reaper expert we have, so I was here advising Fedorian. If we lose Menae and its facilities, we'll lose Palaven."
"I got a name back from the Bureau of Succession," Corinthus said, breaking through the reunion, "General Adrien Victus, currently commanding officer of the 12th Palaven Legion. He's here on Menae."
"Huh," Garrus said. Victus, Primarch of Palaven? This was going to be interesting.
Shepard caught that. "You know him, Garrus?"
"I was fighting alongside him this morning," or at least he thought it had been morning, "his legion is holding territory to the west. Lifer, popular with his troops - less so with Command. He has a reputation of being unorthodox. Playing fast and loose with accepted strategy."
Shepard made a thoughtful noise. "Creative thinking might just be what we need."
"I trust him," Garrus told her. He'd known Victus personally for all of forty-eight hours, but the man was driven, brave and personally charismatic. There were a lot worse people to lead his people through this war.
Shepard turned to Corinthus, decided, "Can you get in contact with Victus and organize a rendezvous? Either we go to him or he comes here."
"If you want to grab him yourself," Garrus interjected, "it'll have to be by ground, at least part of the way. That sector is full of Reaper AA and oculus. Aircraft were getting shot down as soon as they were off the ground."
"Understood."
"I'll try to raise him," Corinthus agreed.
The comms across the room erupted, the Operations Officer hissing out a Spirits and getting to his feet.
"Report!" Corinthus snapped.
"Topside reporting heavy enemy contact," the Major's voice was admirably steady, "platoon-strength batarian infantry, some Cannibals, at least company-strength husks. Captain Kastus doesn't believe they'll be able to hold for long. We may have to seal the doors."
Seal the thick, heavy doors into the buried portion of the base, leaving the soldiers topside to die and trapping everyone here until the enemy moved on, breached the doors or reinforcements arrived.
Garrus heard Shepard beside him, her voice quiet but determined, "Mierda. We're not doing that." Then she stepped forward, getting the general's attention. "Sir, while you get in touch with General Victus, I'll assist your troops in repelling the attack."
Corinthus' mandibles drew close to his face in concern. "Captain Shepard, you're my guest and the Alliance's envoy. If you died, it would greatly dishonour my legion."
"With respect, General, I'm a Spectre. I'm not asking for permission." When Corinthus' mandibles flicked in displeasure - Garrus could almost hear his own father's disgusted utterance of Spectres - she softened it with, "If we lose the comm facilities uptop you might not be able to contact Victus at all."
After a moment he nodded begrudgingly. "I'll send word as soon as I get in contact with the Primarch."
"Thank you. Coming, Garrus?"
"Right behind you!"
He wanted to be able to take a moment to grab his best friend's arm and tell her how relieved he was that she was alive, but there was no time for sentiment. Instead, they began to run up the twisting staircase back to the surface, not bothering with the busy elevator that was being used to bring up ammunition.
Shepard took the lead, taking the stairs two at a time, Garrus and Liara behind her. He could hear the big Marine panting - though he didn't fall behind.
"That you gasping back there, Vega?" Shepard called back, voice teasing.
"Air's just thinner than I'm used to," he protested, "adrenaline is better than oxygen any day."
"Uh huh. Sounds like someone needs to do more cardio."
They burst out onto the surface. The air was thick with gunfire. A handful of turian soldiers were dashing around, carrying heatsinks and ammunition between storage and the soldiers manning the defences.
Shepard grabbed the nearest soldier by his webbing. He was a good head taller than her, but her grip stopped him dead in his tracks. "Who's in command up here?"
"Captain Kastus!" the soldier pointed a claw at another turian across the base.
Captain Kastus was a tall, female turian with pale, yellow Epyrus markings sweeping the lines of her light grey carapace. She was already wounded, a white patch of medigel on her left forearm.
Shepard wasted no time. "Four guns, two biotics, Captain. Where do you need us?"
She pointed to the north wall of the FOB. "They're pressing us hard. Do whatever you can, ma'am."
Shepard just nodded and gestured for the three of them to follow her. There was a ladder up to the top of the metallic wall and Garrus heaved himself up. On top were a handful of battered turian soldiers and a heavy machine-gun. He could feel the thud-thud-thud of the HMG firing in his bones.
Garrus glanced over the edge, winced and looked over at Shepard. He knew he and Shepard were having the same thought - they were in trouble. Below them was a long stretch of rocky valley, and it was boiling with husks. It had to be hundreds of them, a tidal-wave of once-humanity, packed in so tightly that they were crawling over each other, their limbs all tangled together.
They were wailing and snarling, a terribly familiar sound.
The HMG was firing down into them, barely one hundred metres away. Wherever the HMG passed, they were cut down as if by a scythe, but more kept climbing over the bodies.
"Sweet Mary, mother of God," Vega said and fired his rifle. It was like throwing a pebble into a pond, the bodies of the husks he'd shot (and the man was a decent shot, Garrus would give him that) disappearing beneath a dozen others.
Behind Garrus, Shepard keyed her comm. "Hawk-1, this is Ranger, stand by. We may need to bug out quickly, over."
Garrus felt her eyes slide over to him and knew she had no intention of leaving him behind, not if she had to knock him out and carry all seven feet of him out herself. The promise of safety did little to make him feel better. All too many here didn't have that.
His father and sister didn't have that.
Garrus levelled his Phaeston at a husk that had gotten past the HMG's cone of fire and pulled the trigger. Husks had no sense of self-preservation, no concept of retreat. There was simply kill or be killed.
Liara tossed a glowing biotic ball into the heaving mob, tugging several off their feet, and in the next second there was a deep boom as Shepard, burning bright with her corona, detonated the field. The resulting explosion had enough force to toss one husk's arm up onto the top of the barricade.
Distantly, Garrus noted that it was still wearing scraps of Alliance Marine armour.
Their fire was holding them back from the barricade for now, but every time the HMG gunner had to reload, they'd get just a bit closer.
"Keep it up!" Shepard encouraged, pitching her voice to carry above the gunfire.
"Like fish in a barrel!" Vega shouted as he tossed a frag grenade into the valley below.
"Down to three heatsinks!" the machinegunner, a young sand-plated male, called. Heavy machine-guns used specialised heatsinks - they couldn't just give him theirs. And with the way the husks were still coming, he'd burn through those sinks in a matter of minutes.
"Ammo bearer should have been here already," another turian soldier shouted, firing her Phaeston until it beeped.
"Garrus, Liara," Shepard called, "go get the man his heatsinks."
"On it, Shepard!" he called back and started clambering down the ladder. Liara simply stepped off and floated to the ground gracefully, shrouded in her biotics.
"Show off," he said, with an amused flick of his mandibles. She grinned at him and, Spirits, he hadn't thought he'd ever see his friends again. "They were bringing heatsinks up to the door, we should be able to find some for the HMG there."
"Right behind you," she promised and then they began to run. They passed Kastus, calling for artillery fire into her comm, and a medic, kneeling over a groaning soldier, his arm at a wrong angle.
The entrance into the base below was a set of heavy, fortified doors set into the rock. They were currently open, a few soldiers carrying crates of heatsinks from the elevators. Garrus jogged forward, calling out.
"I need HMG heatsinks!"
"Here, sir!" One of the soldiers passed them both a crate each.
Then back to the barricade, running as fast as they could with the heavy crates in their arms.
As they came to the wall, Garrus realised that the HMG was silent. Liara tossed both crates up and Garrus heaved himself up, and now he could hear the bark of Shepard's shotgun, Vega yelling something. When he got to the top of the ladder he saw Shepard grappling with two husks and the turian gunner on the ground, another husk standing over him.
But there was something wrong with it. Set in its abdomen was some kind of power cell or power source, glowing sullen red.
It promptly exploded.
Garrus was thrown backwards, losing contact with the walkway, bits of husk splattering across the front of his armour - and then there was just the empty air at his back. He fell, landing hard enough to drive the breath out of his lungs.
"Garrus!" Shepard called. "Are you okay?"
"I'll live," he wheezed, sitting up. Where was his rifle? There - his claws closed around it.
And then, because his day hadn't been terrible enough as it was, his comm crackled.
"-husks in the wire, husks in the wire - Spirits, it's the big ones!"
The husks were climbing up the wall like particularly creepy spiders. James fired until his rifle beeped at him and then resorted to bashing at a husk's head with the butt as it tried to get onto the walkway.
"Should we pull out?" Liara called to Shepard, flinging another weird, glowy blue orb into a mass of husks, pulling them into the ground. Vakarian reappeared up the ladder, looking a bit dusty from his fall but otherwise in one piece.
"Negative," Shepard replied, in between shots, "we're pretty fucking decisively engaged."
AKA they couldn't run, and with the base being overrun, there was no way for Cortez to get in safely.
A husk crawled up and over the top as James slammed a new heatsink home. At some point it had been shot and there was a gaping hole in its chest, revealing desiccated organs and twisting tubes.
It lept for him in the same moment he brought the rifle up, jamming his finger down on the trigger. It flopped to the ground, sawn in half by his hurried burst - its hands still trying to drag its mangled body towards him.
"Mierda," he grimaced and shot it in the head. They just didn't quit.
"Fuck this shit. I'm going to get the Normandy to drop on that fucking valley," Shepard decided. "Keep them off me while I call it in!"
"Aye ma'am."
Shepard crouched, focusing on calling the Normandy, and Vega stepped forward to watch over her. Behind them he could hear shouting, gunfire and the odd scream. He could only hope the Normandy could drop some ordnance before they were caught in the pincer.
Since when did husks have tactics?
"Heads down!" Shepard yelled.
The whole world shook as the Normandy's guided bombs hit, a rumbling that seemed to last for a small eternity. Dust and smoke erupted into the air, and when James poked his head up, there was nothing moving in the valley except for a few stragglers.
Shepard grabbed one of the (mostly unwounded) turians and shoved him towards the HMG. "Get that gun up. You three, with me!"
The outpost was chaos. They'd closed the doors into the deeper outpost, the lock glowing forbidding red. Husks mixed with the hard-pressed turian defenders - and not just husks. Their team was forced into cover by gunfire. More of those fucked up looking batarians and husk-things that had to have once between turians. He preferred when husks couldn't use guns.
"Frag out!" he shouted, seeing no (alive) turians at the enemy position, and tossed a grenade at them. It went off with a whistle of shrapnel and Shepard was moving in a flash of blue.
They had to keep moving. Breathing hard, James charged out of cover after her. They rounded the corner of one of the FOB's shelters and -
"What is that thing?"
The Reaper creature was huge, with crab-like claws and a turian-like head on the end of a snaking neck. It roared at the sight of them, beating one claw against its chest. Instinctively, Vega raised his rifle and shot at it.
All that seemed to do was piss it off.
The brute roared again and lowered its head, charging towards him.
Oh shit.
Shepard swung out a glowing hand and the ensuing biotic field hit Vega square in the side. He went flying, feeling weightless for a few seconds, like he was back in zero-g training. Then the biotic glow surrounding him winked out and he went crashing back to the ground, head ricocheting off a rock.
For a moment he lay there, stunned. Gotta - gotta move.
He rolled onto his side and then got back to his feet. His rifle had gone flying and he wasn't sure where it was, so he pulled his shotgun off his back.
When he looked up the others were still firing at the brute, but it wasn't having much of an impact. It was bleeding a dark liquid from a handful of wounds that had found vulnerable, fleshy points, but it just seemed enraged.
They needed something heavier to take out this cabrón.
He glanced around - and there, inside the nearby structure he could see the long tube of a rocket launcher. Hopefully turian ones weren't too different from Alliance issue launchers. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet despite his ringing head and staggered forward.
James promptly found himself on the ground again. He'd tripped on - something - and his hands were in a pool of dark blue liquid. What?
Dark blue -
He tilted his head. Captain Kastus was lying on her back, surrounded by congealing, blue blood, her mandibles slack and yellow eyes staring blankly. She'd been shot in the chest and neck.
"Fuck." He climbed to his feet again and grabbed the rocket launcher.
When he emerged from the doorway, Shepard was ducking beneath the brute's swiped claw, backpedalling.
"Keep clear!" he shouted, and pressed what he hoped was the trigger. The rocket leapt from the barrel and smashed into the Reaper creature's bulky chest.
For a moment it stood, its body ripped open, and then it fell with a heavy thump.
James gasped in a breath, letting the tube drop to the ground as an eerie silence fell over the FOB. They'd done it.
"Good job with the launcher," Shepard said, coming over and patting him briefly on the shoulder, "I didn't hurt you by tossing you?"
His head hurt, but he said honestly, "Pretty sure you saved my ass, ma'am."
Some of the turians - battered and exhausted as they were - were already moving to start patching the hole in the perimeter and set up their defences again. He had to admire that kinda grit.
"Take a moment," Shepard said and stepped aside. He didn't have to be asked twice. He sat down on a nearby crate and found the straw inside his helmet, take a few long sips from his hardsuit's water tank.
Shepard's comm buzzed. "Ranger, this is Corinthus, come in, over."
"Corinthus, this is Ranger. Over."
"We cannot get in contact with General Victus. It appears we're being jammed, over."
"Copy that. We'll go in on foot, over."
"Good luck. Corinthus out."
Shepard's sharp gaze switched to Vakarian. "How far is it to where you last saw Victus?"
"A couple of hours if we make good time," Garrus replied.
"Let's go. I'm not leaving Menae without a primarch."
General Adrien Victus stepped down onto the rocky surface of Menae as Shepard let her rifle hang by its strap, feeling the long day and hard fight to get here in every part of her body.
"Captain Shepard. I know who you are. I can't wait to find out what you're doing here."
When he turned his attention to Garrus, she watched him keenly. She hoped he was the right man for the job. Millions might die if he wasn't.
A heavy weight for one man to carry, and she was the deliverer of that burden.
"General," she said when he looked back at her, "I'm sorry to say that Primarch Fedorian is dead. His shuttle was shot down."
"May he rest with the spirits of Palaven itself," Victus said grimly. "Who is the new primarch?"
No way to cushion it. "You are."
He stared at her for a long, disbelieving second - and then past her, at Palaven. "I'm Primarch of Palaven?"
"Yes."
"You're not here as the Hierarchy's messenger," he said, gaze sharpening. He was no fool then, good.
"A war summit has been called between the Citadel species, a war summit that requires your attendance. I promised Councillor Sparatus that I'd evacuate you."
Well, Fedorian, but Victus was better than a corpse.
His mandibles twitched. "I'm no diplomat, Shepard."
"Right now, I think a man who understands war is exactly what we need. If we don't stand together, we'll die alone."
A pause, and then he nodded. "I need to say goodbye to my men. I'll need to bring some of my staff with me."
"Of course."
Primarch Adrien Victus stepped aside, his head bowed, and Shepard looked up and watched Palaven burning.
Codex
Hierarchy Standard Issue Infantry Equipment:
Small Arms:
Assault Rifle: AR-91 Phaeston
Pistol: P-47 Stiletto
Sniper Rifle: M-92 Mantis
Anti-Material Rifle: AMR-51 Krysae
Medium Machine-gun: MMG-123 Tyrax
Heavy Machine-gun: H52 Armax
Ground Vehicles
APC: C77 Tyrus
Engineering Vehicle: C77-E Tyrus
IFV: C77-I Tyrus
Command Vehicle: C77-CV Tyrus
SAM Platform: C77-S Tyrus
Mobile Missile Platform: MT71 Jiris
Light Mobile Vehicle: LMV77 Janus