Notes:

AI - Artificial Intelligence

Ajrakila - identified with the aspect of Athame Rala, the warrior goddess and patron of huntresses

Amantia - lover (Thessian)

Anam Cara - Soul Friend/Mate (Gaelic)

FTL - Faster Than Light travel

Inanna - pinnacle of Asari blending, perfect unity of two spirits into one (from 'real world' Sumerian Goddess of Love, Fertility, and War)

Ionúin Álainn - beautiful beloved (Gaelic)

QEC - Quantum Entanglement Communicator

Siame - "one who is all", a loved one cherished above all others (Thessian/Source: CDN)

XO - Executive Officer

The Uncivil War

Neema, Phoenix Massing, At Large – 3 Jan 2189

Master Sergeant Hallie Buckner eased up behind Spectre Ashley Williams, crouched behind a ventilation grill that looked out on one of the Neema's two main hanger decks; this hanger had been deemed to have less of a Quarian Marine presence than Hanger One. With the rest of the five-man team crouched close behind them, Buckner whispered into her comms mic. "Pretty large area, Ma'am. Think Aralakh Squads can get in without getting cut to pieces?"

Williams chuckled as she replied, "Never doubt what overwhelming force and surprise can accomplish, Sergeant. The few Marines watching over this hanger will not be expecting a bunch of Krogan to come storming out of a Quarian shuttlecraft."

Spectre Bau and his infiltration team had been on the Neema forty-five minutes; he had just contacted her to report that the Neema's weapons and propulsion systems were no longer controlled by the Quarians. "Opposition not as heavy as expected, Spectre Williams. It would seem not all the crew on this vessel agree with the course set by Han'Gerrel and Daro'Xen."

"Roger that, Spectre." Listening intently to her comms, she turned towards her master sergeant and said, "Aralakh's twenty seconds out, Buckner. As soon as the hatches open, we move." After giving the area a final visual inspection, she said, "Dallas, you have your targets… take out the little bastard up in the corner first; the closer of the two will attempt to run in that direction. If either of them sounds an alarm before we have this area nailed down, we'll be up to our asses in Quarians before we can catch our breath."

"Aye, Ma'am. I'll get it done."

Ashley grinned at the man's response. She had seen Corporal Altor using his silenced M-97 on the live practice range. He was easily the equal of Garrus Vakarian during the Turian's stint on Omega as Archangel; she didn't have any doubts about his ability to take out two targets, the second of which would be running towards the position occupied by his terminated companion.

"Heads up, gang!" The Quarian shuttlecraft – acquired for this mission by Councilor Eri'Addan – came roaring into the hanger at a speed that seemed imprudent, until the Spectre realized the hatches were already open and Krogan were tumbling out of both sides. "Let's move!" came her shout as she kicked the grille into the hanger and rolled out onto the deck. She moved sideways to keep her team from landing on top of her as she watched the shuttle careen head-on into a pair of parked shuttles and come to a screeching, spark-throwing halt. She barely heard the double-chuff of Altor's Viper as he took out his targets; the eight Krogan from Aralakh Company had crushed – literally – the few other Quarians present in the hanger bay.

Ashley ran up to A-Squad leader Betarog Stragg as he dropped the two Quarian Marines he had used like a pair of crash-cymbals. "Bau and his people have control of Neema's weapons and propulsion. You just need to keep any reinforcements from reaching him. You move towards engineering, take out any opposition you encounter and meet up with Bau." The toothy grin and the sparkle in Stragg's reptilian eyes reminded her of Urdnot Wrex each time he had bashed some Geth troopers or Cerberus soldiers; she was glad he was on her side as he waved to his comrades to follow him towards main engineering.

She next looked to Grirdak Buzk and continued, "You and B-Squad are with me… and your name is too damned hard to wrap my tongue around if I need you fast, so I'm calling you Buzz!" She finally turned to Rogant Grack and C-Squad. "Rogue… I need you and yours to stay on this deck, use your omnitools to track us from below once we go up a level. Make a lot of noise, try to draw some attention away from us." She hardened her expression further, saying, "I would really prefer that you not kill anyone dropping weapons and surrendering; just because they're on this ship doesn't mean they agreed to Han'Gerrel's hair-brained schemes. That said, don't take any chances with any of them."

Taking a deep breath to help clear her mind, she finished with a warning. "This damned ship is huge… it's the Quarin's home… they know all the shortcuts… all the special passages too small for any of you, so keep a close eye on your six. Don't let 'em box you in. Okay?"

After watching Stagg and Rogue each crash their fists together in acknowledgement, Williams turned back to her own team. "Okay. Let's move out. Naughton… Lindemann… you guys take point… and stay frosty!"

Normandy SR2, Phoenix Massing, At Large – 3 Jan 2189

"Joker! Evasive!" Normandy went into a gut-wrenching 'climbing' turn that momentarily overwhelmed the inertial dampeners; Leon Rensch watched the tactical display in growing dread as the graphical dot representing a Quarian missile grew in relative size each second that it tracked the graphic depicting the ship. Through all the twists, turns, and velocity changes, the missiles — having now being delineated as a pair — unrelentingly continued to follow and close the distance to their designated target.

Leon knew Edi and Joker were doing their absolute best to avoid being hit, but as the distance between missiles and target decreased to less than 325 meters, he toggled a control on his console, engaging a warning he hadn't heard on any ship since the Reaper War – that of a collision alarm… loud… mournful… an electronically generated siren sounding through the PA speakers on a continuous loop, from low frequency to high and back to low, while a recorded female voice repeatedly intoned over the siren, "Brace for collision! Secure equipment! Brace for collision! Lock safety harnesses! Brace for collision! Damage control teams to stations! Brace for collision!"

Rensch noticed from the corner of his eye that Lieutenant Commander Greg Adams had instantly locked down his terminal and left for the war room; although the outcome wasn't guaranteed, his move would place the ship's acting XO in a position to command the ship if Leon was incapacitated or killed. Conversely, Rensch could continue on if his XO was killed in the war room. A quick glance confirmed the access hatch sliding closed behind Adams.

Joker's panicky voice came through his ear mounted comlink. "Commander! Edi has the helm and Tali's destructive interference emitters have been activated… but I'll be damned if we can shake those pieces of shit! They're being more persistent than the fucking Reaper Oculi ever were… and they're closing on us… fast!"

Leon immediately switched the graphical representation of the ship and its pursuer to short range; the missiles were now within 150 meters and nothing Leon saw contradicted Joker's assessment. He was getting ready to key his comm when the nearest missile suddenly vanished from the screen… apparently a victim of Tali's handiwork. What the? Limited range on the emitters? Fucking Hell! I can't believe we have to wait for the damned things to get that close!

Breathing a quick sigh of relief, Leon watched the display with increasing fascination, which quickly turned to dread as he realized the missile furthest from the ship had continued to close the distance… and had yet to vanish from the screen. God damn it!

Leon didn't waste any more time; he remotely downloaded all their position data into a pair of disaster beacons, set them to continuously broadcast an assistance request and launched them as he spoke to his comms specialist. "Dubow! Authorization 359-Bravo Delta. Broadcast a distress call, all frequencies!"

As the specialist acknowledged the command, the remaining missile breached the 70-meter mark and appeared to deploy a small warhead; this continued to close on the Normandy's belly.

It quickly became obvious what the device was designed to do, even as Adams spoke through his intercom, "Damned thing is sending out a narrow-beam jamming signal, Sir; it's targeting our shield emitters." After a momentary pause, he added, "Shit! It's created a 12-to-15-meter hole in the kinetic barrier, Commander. I'm unable to block its emissions."

"Sonuvabitch, Greg! That has to be one of Daro'Xen's creations."

Keying the mic on his ear-mounted comms device, Rensch shouted over the PA, "Brace for impact! Everybody brace!" Mere moments later, he felt, rather than heard, a low frequency vibration in the deck under his feet, followed almost immediately by a sharper vibration, intense enough to rattle anything not solidly attached. The second explosion – in addition to causing all the interior lighting to wink out, leaving the ship in stygian darkness for several moments – also resulted in everything and everyone not bolted down or strapped in to begin floating free of the decking. Dammit! It took out the artificial gravity!

As the ship's emergency lighting – woefully dim compared to normal operations – came on, he became uncomfortably aware of the deathly quiet throughout the ship; with engines and ventilation shut down, the cessation of all the vibrations and sounds one took for granted in their daily lives was jarring. His control console had instantly erupted in flashing red warning lights under the readouts of every function he had been monitoring; of particular concern were the four red indicators rapidly blinking below the main engine status display. They were now effectively dead in space – not stopped – just unable to affect any alteration in their velocity or direction.

Leon barked, "Joker! Sitrep!" No reply. Looking through the tactical passageway towards the flight deck, he saw several of the crew pulling their battle harnesses tighter in order to keep their asses planted in their chairs; he could also see the access hatch to the main airlock was closed, its haptic interface a flickering orange. "Joker! Edi! Sitrep!"

A painfully loud burst of static was followed by the soothing sound of Edi's calm response in his ear. "The warhead exploded in the middle of Normandy's auxiliary machinery and H3-transfer piping compartment, immediately astern of the engineering sub-deck. I have managed to secure the transfer conduits for the ship's H3; unfortunately, due to the severity and location of the damage, approximately eighty-five percent of our fuel was lost through the breach before I was able to modify all of the diverter and shut-off valve settings. The majority of the main reactor heat exchangers were also destroyed, and the main fusion plant is offline. Our eezo core, while intact, lost all computer control inputs, so self-initiated emergency shutdown protocols."

Leon cursed under his breath and asked, "Do you have independent control over life support on Deck One, Edi?"

"Many of the ship's functions, including environment control, artificial gravity, the galaxy map, and the war-room situational displays, were automatically terminated and will not reboot. We have retained control over emergency lighting and minimal life support… though, without sufficient heat exchangers remaining operational, I predict the living spaces on board will grow uncomfortably cold over the next several hours."

Receiving her answer, Rensch continued, "If possible, seal that deck immediately, then divert all atmo and environmental capacity to the rest of the ship." Pausing briefly, he added, "What else?"

Edi continued after a few moments. "The hull breach caused by the warhead was not large and has been temporarily sealed with a kinetic barrier. As you may have surmised by our lack of apparent motion, we have lost all control over the ship's helm and thrusters, Commander. We have no defensive or offensive capability of any kind, and we continue to slowly tumble and roll as we coast along on our previous heading. The elevator is offline below Deck Three… damage control teams have been forced to use the inter-deck access tubes to reach Decks Four and Five. I also have reports of a chemical agent being released by the explosion, but immediate effects are unknown. As we are unable to get a response from Engineer Manos or Engineer Donnelly, and all internal sensors for that area are offline, I can only surmise that both crewmen are incapacitated… or dead. We will not know their status unless they somehow managed to survive and find a way to contact us, or Engineering damage control teams are able to enter the compartment from the passageways on Deck Four."

"Shit." Leon heaved a long sigh. "Estimated time until we can get underway again?"

"Unknown, Commander. Damage to the H3 piping and turbopumps is extensive. Damage Control teams will have to bypass the damaged transfer piping and rig auxiliary pumps… we may be able to get one or two engines operational, but I would suggest that regaining control over our maneuvering thrusters may be more beneficial. We need to arrest the ship's uncontrolled gyrations through the void, Sir. I would not wish for us to have survived this attack only to burn up from an uncontrolled entry into a planetary atmosphere or a solar corona."

"Are there any ships coming to our aid?" He looked at Specialist Dubow while asking, "Have we heard from anyone else?"

Dubow mouthed 'No, Sir,' and shook his head as Edi replied, "Comms are completely down, Commander. We are currently unable to even transmit or receive short-range audio, though I am working on establishing a connection to the emergency back-up batteries. Even then, unless another ship's transmitter is within a few klicks of us, we will remain unable to receive any comms. We have been effectively rendered deaf, blind, and out of control by the Quarian weapon."

"Dammit to Hell! Okay Edi, keep me updated on the ship's status, and the condition of our missing engineers." Keying his mic to ship-wide broadcast, he said, "All hands, Rensch here. I want status reports from all damage control teams, ASAP. Top priority is restoring helm and propulsion control, or we're sitting ducks. After that, we need to restore environmental operations. Let's get to it, people!"

He jumped as a hand touched his right elbow; turning towards that side, he was actually glad to see Greg Adams standing one step below his platform. "Dammit, Greg! We're in some really deep shit now!" He frowned as he grabbed the man's shoulder and looked at him intently. "I need you to go below… get some protective gear from stores on Deck Three, then find and assist the damage control teams attempting to get into main engineering. I know you want to find your crewmen, but your main focus must be on containing the damage and regaining control. Otherwise, we may lose a lot more than the two crewmen in that section."

Thinking about Manos and Donnelly, whom Adams would have been with had Spectre Williams not been called to lead the team boarding the Neema, the acting XO's expression was grim as he replied, "Aye, Sir." Carefully turning around, he pulled his boots free of the deck and floated to the elevator in order to go below.

Leon pulled his own boots free of the platform; floating free, he disconnected his battle harness from its anchor point, held onto the railing and pulled himself towards the port side, where he could use the edge of the counter that ran around the now darkened galaxy map display well. Moving hand-over-hand along the counter, he was at the forward end of the island in a few short moments; pulling his virtually weightless body over the tip of the island with his legs extended behind him, he used his arms to pull his body forward, released his grip on the island and flew rather inelegantly towards the tactical passageway as the ship continued to spin and tumble around him, making his path anything but direct.

After bumping his way into the passage, he finally floated over the threshold and steps. Reaching up, he grabbed one of the pair of structural supports running like railings along the overhead. Once again pulling himself along hand-over-hand, he reached the closed entry hatch to the airlock passageway. Twisting around to force his boots towards the decking, he reengaged their maglocks, activated the mic in his ear-mounted comm and said, "Edi? I'm outside the airlock iso-hatch; the haptic lock is flashing orange. Is there any way to override it from this side?"

Her reply was less than encouraging. "That hatch – along with the hatch on this side of the airlock passageway – cannot be manually over-ridden from either side, Commander. It's a failsafe design, meant to prevent loss of atmosphere, either within the ship or the flight deck." She paused, as if retrieving data. "I have attempted to access the security protocol myself; as an extension of the main computer, my personal access will not allow me to place the lives of organics in jeopardy. I am unable to bypass the programming controlling either hatch."

"How in Hell are we supposed to get access to the flight deck, Edi?"

"Either you or Lieutenant Commander Adams will have to log into the main computer to reset the entry security protocol. There is an access console immediately inside the AI Core Room, against the starboard bulkhead."

Rensch redirected his comms mic. "Adams! I need you to proceed to the main computer compartment forward of Medbay. Contact Edi when you get there… she'll instruct you on how to bypass security protocols for access to the airlock and the flight deck."

Upon receiving confirmation from Greg, Leon redirected his comlink to Edi and Joker. "Edi, Mr Adams will be contacting you shortly from the main computer compartment. Please let me know when you can leave the flight deck; it's very likely your help… you and your mechanically superior platform… could speed up the search and salvage process quite significantly… and every second counts."

Moreh, Phoenix Massing, At Large – 3 Jan 2189

As T'Dura contemplated the many moving parts of the mission, her countdown clock reached zero and she signaled Livos. With a nod, Captain Tanni slipped through the hatch and entered the ship. She immediately knew Blackwatch had already engaged forces… at least she hoped it was Blackwatch and not Shepard's squad… because she could hear gunfire off in the distance. She drew in a deep breath and refocused on her own mission; having memorized the ship's layout, they had planned the path of supposed least resistance, so she turned and started moving quickly towards the aft sections, trusting those behind would follow.

Between Spectre Shepard and the Blackwatch teams, T'Dura found the way ahead fairly clear and the infiltration team made quick work of their transit through the ship, but actually breaching Engineering was an entirely different story. The Moreh wasn't exactly a large ship, but she still had a detachment of Marines to guard her. At the first sign of interlopers, Xen had apparently dispatched a security team to each of the more critical areas within the ship, Engineering obviously being one of them, and the defensive squad was putting up quite the fight.

The Spectre team had managed to get in through the main entry and the Asari portion of the group worked hard to shield Daeto Telas as he hacked the controls and sealed the hatch from outside reinforcement. Just as Telas shouted out success, a stray round ricocheted over his head and clipped a xenon trioxide flow-control valve; the gas was an essential element of the radiation detection system – the neutron and X-ray sensor arrays – and highly explosive upon contact with organic materials. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as the world around him seemed to slow to a crawl, yet he could not act quickly enough to prevent what happened next.

His long, drawn-out scream, "NOOOO-o-o-o-o-o-o!" echoed through the compartment, but it was too late. The valve snapped off, resulting in a high-pressure stream of volatile gas bursting from the ruptured control and blasting directly into his teammates. Lieutenant Tra'ana Iremi, Livos' second-in-command, had the misfortune of being closest to the breach and in the direct path of the resulting leak, which resulted in a series of small, but powerful, detonations as the chemical reacted violently wherever it contacted her skin. The succession of rapid micro-explosions propelled her against the bulkhead with enough force to render her unconscious, which saved her from suffering the intense pain of being progressively ripped apart under the multitude of biochemical microbursts.

Time snapped back into its normal rhythm and Daeto sprang into action, quickly identifying the next control valve up the line; activating his cloak, he vanished as he moved to the valve and shut down the treacherous stream of volatile gas. As he moved in one direction, the Drell assassin, Kaddi Finnoa, moved in another. Using the explosive fire as the distraction she desperately needed, she swiftly flanked the Quarian Marine squad and was behind them before they realized it. A quick toss of two stun grenades and the Quarians were sprawled out on the deck; only moments later, before they could regain their senses, they were all dead.

The three remaining Asari were quick to take advantage of Kaddi's surprise assault and, as soon as the last defender fell, Livos Tanni ran to her fallen comrade and slid to her knees at 'Ana's side. She already knew the commando was most likely dead; Livos' only solace came from the fact that her Lieutenant hadn't suffered much – it had been a quick death, one in which 'Ana hadn't even had a chance to scream. The captain choked back a sob as tears streamed down her face; an angry mask overtook her expression as she ground out, "You will be missed, my dearest 'Ana… Your death will be given purpose and I will avenge you… This I swear before the Goddess!"

She slowly rose to her feet and turned to T'Dura. "Not one more of ours dies today, Spectre! I'd advise you to stay out of my way, for I will wreak the vengeance of Ajrakila upon all who still oppose us!"

"As you will, Captain Tanni." Moises closed her eyes softly and dipped her head in respect. "I will not interfere, so long as your wrath does not interfere with the mission… which I highly doubt will be the case. If anything, you shall be striking down our enemies while the hand of Athame rests upon your shoulder."

Neema, Phoenix Massing, At Large – 3 Jan 2189

The Marines exited the hanger behind A-Squad and C-Squad. Turning to their right after moving through a transverse passageway, they carefully moved down a corridor in the direction of the Neema's bridge. The passageway before Ashley was dimly lit, which suited her perfectly; the light enhancement filter built into the helmet's viewport automatically and instantaneously compensated for the available light level, whether too dim or too bright. Naughton expressed surprise that this passageway led past few compartments. Ashley replied, "Chose this route on purpose, Sergeant. It's mostly for maintenance access; less opposition to deal with down here."

With Strax Jrugas and Master Sergeant Buckner close on her six, Williams held her shotgun – an N7 Piranha – at the ready; in the field, she would have chosen her M-96 Mattock, but within the claustrophobic confines of this starship's tight passageways, she felt the benefit of using a high-capacity, rapid-fire shotgun would more than make up for its inaccuracy at mid-to-long range.

Twenty-five meters from their starting point, they came to a circular stairwell; Ashley had two of her heavily armed and armored Krogan companions proceed up. Within moments of their feet disappearing from sight, she heard heavy-weapons fire and guttural growls responding to gunfire from lighter weapons. A muttered 'Advance!' sounded in her headset the instant gunfire ceased. The Spectre grinned inside her helmet… the Krogan that had spoken – Srundok Gilak, she guessed – sounded a bit disappointed. As she started up the stairs to follow, she queried, "Not enough action for you, Gilak?"

"Urdnot Grunt promised there would be many skulls to crack," he growled back on the comm. "These Quarians should feel ashamed at their lack of resistance to our advance."

With a quiet chuckle, she replied, "Aralakh Company is a formidable opponent, Srundok Gilak. I'm sure the Quarians will offer a lot more resistance to us entering the Neema's flight deck." Coming up alongside the massive soldier, she added, "They'll be guarding their admiral. I don't believe any but the most loyal to Han'Gerral's cause will be standing in our way. Come on…"

The top of the stairwell had brought the assault team to the mid-deck, with a straight, 15-meter passage to the next stairwell. Ashley leaned her head out from cover to visually inspect their path; there were a number of barricades, placed in a seemingly haphazard manner along the deck, alternating to left and right. Her action also drew fire from several soldiers crouched behind a few of them.

Looking at Sergeant Naughton, she said, "We need to move past these guys in order to get to Deck One." Turning her attention to Tavarog Gund, she said, "Take three of your men, go with Naughton." As the Krogan squad shuffled their positions behind her, she took another quick look down the passage; this was rewarded with more weapons fire, some of the rounds pinging off the metal wall centimeters from her face. Goddammit! I've had about enough of this shit!

Bringing up her N7 Piranha, she used both hands to hold it out before her crosswise, muzzle pointing towards the source of the weapons fire. As she pushed it past the edge of the wall, she squeezed the trigger and held on for dear life as it bucked and spit pellets in a near continuous stream down the passageway. Jerking it back towards her the instant the tenth round had discharged, she nodded at Naughton. "Go!"

She quickly reloaded the shotgun as he couched and led the Krogan team members around the corner. She had just repositioned to take another look when all Hell broke loose – Naughton shouted, "Down!" as the concussive wave from a massive explosion rolled past her position, to be instantly followed by all the air behind her and the rest of her squad rushing past them with the seeming strength of a hurricane.

She felt heavy hands grab her bodily from behind as the comms crackled with warnings: "Hold on!" and "Get down!" The windstorm stopped nearly as abruptly as it had started; feeling the arms across her chest easing their pressure, she looked around the corner again. The formerly endless metal wall on the far side of the passage now had an ugly punctuation mark in the form of a ragged, deck-to-ceiling hole roughly four meters across, through which Ashley could see stars sprinkled across the black velvet of space; the hole was sealed – if that was the correct term – by a sparkling kinetic barrier, which had undoubtedly been auto-generated by the ship's computer an instant after it had detected an outer hull breach.

An increasingly insistent voice sounded in her comlink. "Spectre! What the Hell just happened up there?"

"Quarian defenders fired a round from a rocket launcher… breached the hull between us, blew half of fucking Bravo-Squad into space, along with my Sergeant; they were all within a couple meters of the hole."

She stopped speaking and turned around to look into the brilliant, amber-colored eyes of Srundok Gilak. "Were those your arms around me?"

Gilak's growl was a low rumble from deep within his chest. "Urdnot Grunt would have my quads if I had let that breeze blow your skinny little ass into the void, Spectre!"

The thought, He really thinks my ass is skinny? came and went before she could reply. Grabbing his shoulder, she solemnly said, "Never been hugged by a Krogan before. Thanks for that."

Gilak actually appeared to be embarrassed by her admission. "I'm just glad I didn't crush you. Hard to judge just how much force to apply to a squishy Human."

Nodding her head as she released him, she turned and began moving cautiously past the massive breach; the team had all their senses alert for the slightest movement ahead. Once they reached the forward end of the short passage, she called back down to Rogue. "Looks like the Quarians joined our guys in the void." Shaking her head in disgust at what she believed to be an unnecessary loss of life, she added, "If the concussion didn't severely injure or kill them, being sucked out into the airless vacuum of space surely ended their lives. Stay sharp down there."

Ashley turned back to her decimated squad and said, "Looks like five of our comrades are floating around in the goddamned void! I don't think Grunt will be pleased about that, and I'm well and truly pissed that they're gone, along with my sergeant."

"Brainless Quarians! Did they think an explosion from a rocket launcher round wouldn't damage their ship? Even with their enviro-suits, those Pyjaks won't have the chance to breathe vacuum… they'll freeze solid in under three minutes." Gilak stared out through the immense hole, as if looking for his lost teammates.

Ashley sighed heavily; looking around, she attempted to take stock of her squad's status. "Damn. We need to regroup. Buckner, you and Lindemann take point. Srundok, your squad is at half-strength – although I expect it's still more than enough to deal with whatever surprises the Quarians spring on us, I don't want to see any more of you get injured or killed. And while not all the crew on this ship are loyal to Gerrel and his mad crusade, there are still 5000-plus on board, and we don't know how many are on our side. Two of you stick with Buckner, the other two cover our six." Nodding at the circular stairwell ahead, she said, "Okay, Master Sergeant… let's get these stairs cleared."

Having left the second staircase behind, the progress of the Spectre's squad was slowed by the necessity of clearing intersecting passageways. After passing what appeared to be an empty corridor, Strax Jrugas and Ugod Relag came under intense small-arms fire from a contingent of Quarian Marines. As the remainder of the team hit the deck to assist, several rounds from what proved to be a Geth Pulse Rifle ripped past them from the opposite direction; two of the light-weight slugs buried themselves in the armored back of Strax.

Ashley shouted a warning as Private Lindemann rose in a half-crouch to target their attacker, then watched in horror as the unseen Quarian fired another ten-round burst. Two of the slugs hit Lindemann in his upper chest, slicing through his armor thanks to being encased in a phasic envelope; these may have been survivable if he'd received prompt attention from Combat Medic Karin McMasters. What Sidney could not survive was the single round that went through his visored helmet; the explosion of poly-crystalline carbon particles from the back of the helmet was accompanied by a misty cloud of bloody pulp. Private Lindemann didn't utter a sound as he collapsed lifelessly to the deck.

Normandy SR2, Phoenix Massing, At Large – 3 Jan 2189

Even though Steve Cortez had been trained extensively on how to react to nearly any calamity that could befall a warship, he was having a difficult time keeping his emotions locked down. There was anger, that the Quarians had fired on the Normandy. Fear, that damage to the ship's hull and engineering section might result in the loss of structural integrity, necessitating abandoning the ship. Worry, for the safety of his shipmates on Deck Four. Frustration, that access to that deck had been rendered virtually impossible by the amount of damage done to the infrastructure behind the elevator tower – equipment that was critical for the safe operation of the entire ship.

He was leading a damage control team in an attempt to gain access to the Deck Five equipment areas immediately astern the elevator. It had taken almost fifteen minutes to rig a stand-alone electric drive motor to rotate the bypass shaft that would manually open the massive doors protecting the elevator shaft. The lack of the haptic interface in front of the door sections spoke to the severity of the explosion; in addition to the physical damage to everything behind the shaft, the lack of a haptic lock on the doors meant the explosion had released an EM pulse that had disabled anything operated by the ship's computer; Steve hoped its effects had been confined to a small radius.

Once inside the elevator shaft, the Marines had gone to work on a pair of emergency access hatches – one to port, one starboard – set into the rear bulkhead. Cortez shined his Omni lamp upwards, nervously inspecting the underside of the elevator car stopped on deck three; he could feel the hair on the back of his neck at rigid attention. Without the ship's computer controlling the car, the only thing preventing an uncontrolled plunge to the bottom of the shaft was a set of mechanical clamps beneath it, and the lack of artificial gravity. After a hurried discussion with Specialist Dubow, who was relaying status reports to Commander Rensch, he waited until his team had unsealed the starboard hatch; unfortunately, the instant the hatch cleared the seals of the surrounding door frame, they had been driven back by an escaping cloud of noxious gas. Steve was happy he had insisted everyone wear the cumbersome protective suits with self-contained breathing apparatus as they retreated to the hanger bay for the several seconds it took for the gas to dissipate. This simply added to Steve's anger at the rogue Quarians; he didn't know how, but he intended to make them pay for adding insult to injury.

Once the air was clear and they could see again, Steve led his team back to the access hatch, where they were finally able to force it open wide enough for entry; the trio of Marines made short work of clearing the broken, mangled piping and conduits that had been dislodged from the brackets and framework upon which it had all been mounted. Of some concern was the view they all had of the starry black void below them, guarded only be an emergency kinetic barrier; Cortez knew the barrier was being generated from emergency backups, meant to allow a repair crew enough time to restore auxiliary power, followed by main power.

Two more Marines had joined Cortez's damage control team – he had them work on accessing the damage through the port-side hatch. Damage to port was much more severe than to starboard – and it was obvious to Steve that repairing the damages caused by the explosion was going to require a dry-dock. He sighed as he contemplated Normandy being out of service for weeks. After making it through the Reaper war with hardly any damage, to be brought down by people we had assisted is too much!

Inside the machinery and equipment compartment, Cortez traced their progress aft by comparing frame numbers to the schematic projected by his omnitool. "Sergeant, look sharp. We should be able to see the engineering sub-deck just ahead."

"It's a real mess, Sir. There's mangled piping and conduits everywhere." Sergeant Forrest Bigbee was on his belly, squirming about in an effort to get past a pair of 75-centimeter pipes that had been bent and shoved up and sideways. With a last, massive push, he managed to shine his light into the relative emptiness of the subdeck. "What I can see looks fairly undamaged, Sir, but there were a number of H3 receiver tanks set into structural wells back there… tanks that I cannot see from here." Speaking to his companion, he said, "Grab my ankles, Gerry… pull me back."

Once back and crouching in the relatively open space just inside the hatch, Bigbee addressed Cortez. "Only way I see we can gain access to Deck Four is to pull ourselves up the access ladder in the elevator tower beside the hatch, Sir, then force the outer elevator doors on Deck Four open. We don't have time to rig the gear we'd need to access the observation windows from the hanger – don't even know if we could remove the clear panels without some serious tools. Those windows were designed to withstand atmo on one side and vacuum on the other."

Cortez nodded as he spoke, "Agreed, Sergeant, so let's get to it. We need to reseal the access hatches once we're out of here." Steve helped the man to his feet, then turned and led everyone out of the partially destroyed area. Once more standing below the elevator car above them, Steve handed Bigbee a safety harness and the end of a long line, saying, "Once you're beside that door, hook your harness to one of the rungs, then haul the motor up. Soon as the passageway doors are open, we'll follow you up – see if we can pry open the access doors into engineering as well."