"Life is like banking. Interest builds only when you invest in it."
~Barla Von
"A good enemy is a dead enemy. 'Specially if he's dumb; no telling what stupid people will do."
~Urdnot Wrex
[Citadel, Alliance Embassy]
He raised his cup, imitating his companions' motions without drinking the contents; a simple enough task. Faking the action was simple, compared to copying the emotion. The situation was both bad, and good. It all depended on who was doing the questioning.
"Of course, you have every right to ask." Udina gave a charming smile. "Since there has been so many draws upon his time, I was given full authorization on legal matters. An authorized representative, you see. I can also assure you he will not be left uninformed; any agreement is null unless met with his approval. I hope you understand, Madame Councilor?"
Councilor Tevos, positioned on the opposite side of the small table, gave him an equally brilliant smile. "Certainly. This is a large step for one man, even one as accomplished as Commander Shepard." She lifted her cup, apparently savoring the aroma. "Now, you are certain the paperwork is complete?"
"I am." Udina rose to pour another cup, "The attorneys looked over the agreement, and the Commander has sent his approval. When the good doctor has been recovered, we can share the wonderful news." He paused as liquid culture streamed from one container to another, "Two of them contacted me with some minor concerns, but I was able to put their minds at rest."
"Excellent." Tevos gave him a graceful nod, "That is welcome news. If you would tell me their company, I would like to introduce them to a friend or two, to ensure they understand. They can be … eloquent."
Captain Anderson silently noted the opinion. He had barely moved, wetting his lips with the beverage at infrequent intervals. Oddly enough, tea was a custom shared by asari, humans and turians alike; even the volus had a version compatible with their colleagues. It was a battlefield just as bloodthirsty as any fought with blades or guns. Unlike the two politicians however, he watched as if they were rabid animals, preparing to engage him as their next meal.
After all, an old warrior didn't become old by ignoring the habits of superior predators.
[Therum, Artemis Tau]
Ash fell from the sky like rain, covering the ground with a fine powder. The mockery of snow made walking difficult, softer than earth, harder than water yet greasing every step like ice. The stars vanished over the horizon, hidden by the dense clouds of airborne soot. Constant volcanic eruptions raised the temperature to hellish levels, stopped only by the atmosphere-controlled armor.
The utter lack of vegetation meant the only handholds possible were made by rocks, cracked by the intense heat. It took effort, but Shepard managed to push his way forwards against the inhospitable terrain. The entire planet seemed designed to consume infantry. Some of the lava pits appeared large enough to devour entire companies. This planet would give mastery only to those who knew the art of mechanical warfare.
Clambering over the rocks, fording deep ash 'mud pits' and maneuvering the debris of a thousand eruptions felt like boot camp. It was common knowledge that the 103rd Marines specialized in all-terrain combat, by choosing to train on different planets ... which was useful, but not entirely what he would have contemplated as efficient. Shepard was just glad the Mako was present; without its mobile-artillery advantage, the geth would have won hours before, almost on planetfall.
That shunted his thoughts along different path. Geth didn't possess many vehicles, or so it appeared. Yet their combat strength remained high, due to sheer versatility. Multitasking. Coordination. Prioritizing … the geth excelled at anything involving memory and timing. But one thing they seemed to have in very small capacity was the ability to initiate nonstandard tactics.
Hence Shepard's current position.
"Mako, hold right flank. Delta squad keep left, get to the high ground." He set a series of navigation points through his HUD, watching the movements as they happened. "Williams, follow the Mako, tag-team the turret."
At his side, Garrus sighted down the barrel of a rifle, peering at the enemy. "I have a shot."
"Hold," Shepard raised one finger, as if it could direct the geth. "Ready … now."
The long gun barked, then barked again. Shepard noted the perfect adaptation of the geth, the rush into cover protecting them from Garrus's next shot. A geth counter sniper pulled off a snap-shot worthy of an N5, but missed. The effort, however, was troubling; the single geth unit had fired a massive sniper rifle one-handed, while setting up one of the ubiquitous hexagon shields … and barely missed the shot.
"Delta, take take take!" Shepard took cover himself, unshipping his rifle. "Mako, go live."
On opposite sides of the geth position, mass-accelerated fire poured in through a pincer movement. The Mako's main cannon boomed, blasting at the turret emplacements while its smaller machine gun raked through geth ranks. Ashley, standing to one side, had both arms held outwards, rotary carbines spitting death into a geth Prime unit that had caught her attention. Geth, driven back by Garrus's sniper fire, were completely exposed to the onslaught.
The mainly-quarian group of Delta squad fought with exceptional fervor, almost manic in their fury. Geth units in their path sparked, shields dying, turning on each other as IFF routines were hacked, or simply slumping over under their deadly fire.
Garrus's rifle barked once more, disruptor mods shredding through the last of a turret's shields. Below, Ashley changed focus, launching a minor artillery fusillade against the towering fire platform. Between the twin attacks, the turret soon overloaded, detonating in a cloud of crimson flame.
"All teams: good work. Clean up." Shepard hopped forwards, feeling his boots sink into ash. Therum's gravity was greater than Earth's, almost as high as Mindoir's. It felt a little like home, watching the others move sluggishly under its influence. Garrus, oddly enough, seemed slowed, and he'd noticed Tali breathing heavily when she forgot to key off her mike at one point.
The other marines though, their vitals shouldn't have been spiking the way they were in the last engagement. He'd have to talk to them later, see what was wrong.
[Artemis Tau, Knossos System]
[SSV Sigurd]
Admiral Hackett watched the oncoming geth, waiting for them to arrive. The Benjamin Davis may have been the central communications hub of the fleet, but he preferred to set his flag on the Sigurd. As a Martel class battleship, he could inflict more damage in what felt to be a more … personal way. He nodded to the communications technician, and leaned into the pickup, "All carriers, launch fighters by wing. Have the fighters take targets by opportunity, but stand by."
The Fifth Fleet boasted half a dozen carriers, three of which were in-system with him. Each carrier came loaded with over one hundred small craft, nearly eighty of which were fighters, a mix of Yellowjacket and Wasp class attack craft. Four wings per carrier gave him two hundred fighters, not counting the bombers that would stay behind until needed.
"Vanguard, open fire on my mark," tiny red dots inched along his monitor, innocuous representations of what actually approached. "Mark."
Every ship in the forward quarter of the fleet opened fire, sending a wave of death outwards. The geth responded almost immediately, shifting positions like a school of fish. Two were unable to react fast enough, taking damage to ventral surfaces as they climbed.
Good, let's see how they respond to this. Hackett adjusted his frequency, "Wolfpack Two, deploy."
On the screen, two cruisers and three destroyers dove, losing relative altitude to the oncoming geth. The AI's hesitated, and then countered by accelerating their ascent. It was a very tiny hesitation, but he'd caught it. Geth hesitation meant communication – or a trap. Hackett pondered his next move, considering the implications of that scrap of data. He made a decision.
"Hackett to fleet, prepare maneuver Epsilon Five-sigma, repeat Epsilon Five-sigma." He stood back, watching the ships obey. The geth hesitated again, this time even more visibly. A smile grew on his face, "Execute."
Below his feet, the main gun of the SSV Sigurd thundered away, launching its payloads. Further away, he could see the Perseus and the Tadakatsu following suit. Two Wrath class battleships, and his own Martel class were capable of producing enough damage to obliterate a full hemisphere in half an hour. Against geth shields, that power was barely enough to reduce their protection. But then, that's why his fleet brought cruisers.
Hackett remained silent as the fleet completed the maneuver, positioned directly below the geth fleets. While that gave the geth a positional advantage, it also gave his Beijing class cruisers a very, very clear shot. Without prompting, their launchers opened fire, a dozen at a time. Seven missile cruisers, with five bays launching once every three seconds created a hailstorm of four-hundred and twenty missiles in the initial fusillade.
Then the dreadnoughts began their attack run, heavy armor and shields charged to maximum capacity. Hackett re-checked the board, watching for the geth reaction, spotting it seconds before it happened. "Bombers, stand by for launch. Target enemy cruisers, focus fire as you can. Hackett out."
The display echoed his commands, pulling back to show the battle at large. He took a second to glance at Therum, where the Normandy still lurked. He silently tipped his hat at the sullen-crimson planet. Good hunting, Commander.
[Therum]
"Delta squad, pull back. Mako and heavy marines, fire as you bear." Shepard squinted down the barrel of Excalibur, lining up a shot. He pulled the trigger in a single smooth action, staggering a little at its recoil.
"Nice!" Garrus barked out a laugh before taking his own shot; a geth rocket trooper standing at a high point splayed itself before falling. It was a long time before the body struck the ground. "Headshot."
Shepard nodded courteously, "You're a good shot Garrus. Better than me, I can tell."
The turian chuckled, tapping the heatsink in the universal gesture. Its cooldown rate would proceed whether or not it was contacted … but soldiers around the galaxy did it anyway. "You're not so bad yourself Shepard. Any chance you'd be up for a little bet?"
"One second," Shepard checked his HUD. The visor shook, vibrating under the force of a warning. "Mako, heavy armor, disengage. Geth dropship incoming, prepare for aerial bombardment. Set up Shrike rockets, we're taking that flying trash heap down this time."
An ululating cry drifted over the comm net, simultaneously stiffening his spine and weakening his knees. It felt as if something were burrowing into his head, promising death by any means, at any cost. He came to himself, realizing he was holding Excalibur in an offensive position, all by himself. Somehow, he could see the afterimages of another geth unit falling under his gun.
"Shepard?" A slightly trilling voice came from behind him, lower down. He looked back.
Tali had her shotgun aimed past him, but the incongruity was the trio of marines arranged around both her and Garrus in a defensive formation. The turian's head-fringe was at full extension, something Shepard knew to be nearly impossible – cartilage didn't move like that ….
Down below, the heavy marines had missed their opportunity; the dropship was speeding away at barely subsonic speeds while its reinforcements gained their feet. To his relief the marines recognized the danger and retreated, seeking cover further back.
"What. Was. That?" Shepard kept his voice deliberately even. The small quarian that reminded him so much of his sister seemed almost ready to curl up and cry. Or so he had thought.
In response, she keyed the comm channel. "Prazza you idiot! Did you even think before doing that?"
A sheepish apology returned, but she seemed livid. "I'm sorry Commander, he's always had a problem with that kind of thing. It's really something only male quarians do, when they get excited or are trying to impress females," even through her tinted faceplate, Shepard could see her glaring daggers at the distant quarian formation.
"Tali, can you isolate everyone but … ah … Prazza, on the channel?" Garrus asked. His crest seemed to have relaxed, but the intensity in his voice had, if anything increased.
Shepard tapped out the code, "I can. Done, why?"
The turians response was to duck his head forwards, lowering it while his shoulders raised themselves. Shepard could distantly feel something throb, deep in his chest, but could hear nothing. In the distance, he could see one of the quarian marines suddenly leap almost his own height, launching himself to an outcropping before swarming over halfway up. Quarian physiology made the attempt remarkable to observe; the odd way their legs bent and the flexibility they embodied as a race had the man nearly at the top in seconds.
He flipped the signal back, catching the last of Garrus's words. "—if you do that again. Understand?"
A faint, terrified voice came back. "Yessir! I got it sir! I'm sorry, won't happen again!"
"It better not," Shepard decided to make his opinion known. "Or I will personally see to it you are painting the hull. During Relay travel."
Frantic noises of agreement responded; satisfied, he clicked over to Garrus's personal channel. "If you don't mind my asking, what did you do to him?"
The turian shuffled slightly, "That? Um … it's an old trick. Something most turians aren't supposed to do outside of certain … rituals."
Shepard raised an eyebrow, although the effect was ruined by the faceplate. "And?"
Garrus hesitated. "Let's just say that turians were predators, once. Certain … habits die hard."
"Ah." Like how tigers had been discovered to use low-frequency sounds to confuse prey. Did that mean turians were cat-bird hybrids?
He shook off the thought and focused on the battle once more. Currently, the light assault were rapidly out-distancing the geth, flitting from point to point with their jets flaring in the darkened sky. The Mako had reached a stolid redoubt, easily repelling the geth from the safety of two overlapping monoliths.
Distractions. Have to get better. Shepard keyed up the omni-tool, sending fresh instructions. Might as well take advantage of the situation.
Some instinct made him dive to the ground, just in time to avoid a long-range headshot. Just to one side, Garrus raised his own rifle, sending a return shot back along the same vector. He smirked, then scowled. "Missed … but I got the rocket trooper next to him."
Keep your head in the game, if you want to keep your head at all, idiot. Shepard gave the turian a thankful nod, raising Excalibur to the ready. "It looks like they are defending that outcropping over there," he pointed with the barrel.
Another instinctive prompt made Shepard step to one side, again avoiding a sniper's bullet. This time he was ready, and had his own round cutting a trail through the ash-filled atmosphere. The visor beneath his helmet's protective faceplate traced the return trajectory, and the successful kill. "Got 'im."
"Understood," Garrus knelt, resting the rifle on an unusually compliant boulder. "Ready … and … go." His rifle barked once, twice, three times, and paused a heartbeat. Then it fired again, its harsh staccato audible even through the rarified atmosphere.
Shepard's visor tracked the turian's shots, and spotted a geth squad coming around, multiple units already falling. "Help him," he ordered the marines still by his position. One hand went up to touch his helmet, "Shepard to Joker, do you copy?"
A faint hiss of static came back. "Normandy here, you've got a bit of chop, but I hear ya."
"Good," Shepard took a step back, crouching behind cover. "Do you have anything new on the sensors? An asari doctor perhaps?"
Buzzing laughter came back. "If the Normandy was able to pick out single asari, do you think I'd still be a bachelor?"
Shepard sighed quietly, and waited. After a few awkward moments of silence, Joker started again. "Um, yeah. There's what looks like some ruins ahead of you, about five kilometers as the varren runs. There's a lot of messed up ruins there, but … what's that? Oh. Pressley says he has a map ready for you to download, something about a route he marked on it."
"Thank you," Shepard said politely, "how is Hackett doing?"
"I have to hand it to him, he knows how to play. The geth are trying to push him away from the Relay, but he's taking them apart like they're made outta swiss cheese!"
He winced at the mangled metaphor. "I'll wait for the film. Send the map as soon as you can; Shepard out." Clicking out before Joker could respond, he resumed watching the battlefield.
The omni-tool chittered in his ear seconds later, matching the orange glow emanating from his gauntlet. There it is, route to … looks like a Prothean mining facility? He studied the map more closely. That doesn't look right. Wrong position, bad angles. Maybe things have changed in the past few millennia? He checked the route highlighted, then at a secondary route. Chokepoints through tunnels, duel-door barriers – reminiscent of medieval murder holes, with extra hole. No, that's no mine. Walls are angled for defense, supporting and resisting external threats. Those pipes had to have been added later, like an old defense turret, or a processing center.
A ricochet bounced off nearby. "Shepard! Heads up!" Garrus bellowed from further back.
Brainless idiot, he scolded himself. Mistakes like that could get him killed.
"This is Shepard to all squads. You are receiving navigation points; Delta take blue, Mako go yellow. This is the fastest route to the site, so watch your corners and shoot straight. Geth are likely present at the redoubts; so watch yourselves." The cracking boom of the Mako's main gun echoed off the cliffs further away. It gave him an idea, "Also be advised: Wrex is running the Mako's cannon. If any of you can get more kills than him, I will guarantee three days leave at the place of your choice – within reason."
Dead silence met his words. Then an almost universal babble came through, and distant figures were practically leaping forwards. Shepard chuckled. There was always a way to motivate people; to the military man, the prospect of paid free time was almost always successful.
He shouldered his rifle. This was going to be fun.
Geth were falling like leaves in autumn. The quarians, always prepared for destroying synthetics, were fighting as if possessed, a fact that was starting to worry Shepard. Tali, by good fortune, was holding back, watching his squad and going with his commands with the ease of a professional soldier.
Delta squad rampaged forwards, fluidly shifting over the terrain while the Mako attacked everything metal that moved.
"Ashley," Shepard checked his HUD, "You have an Armature coming in hot, northwest half a click."
"Roger that Skipper, thanks." Her filtered voice came back strong, as if she'd only started the fight.
A boom from behind told him Garrus had spotted another target. His visor tracked the vector to an obviously non-natural tower. Its lines were different from that of the Prothean facility, smoother in some ways and purely functional.
"Good eye, Garrus," Shepard targeted the region with his HUD. "All units, be advised: the geth have sniper nests. Eliminate with extreme prejudice."
Their foes had been losing units at an unsustainable rate; Shepard glanced at the sky, watching for another dropship. Geth have no imagination, resupply triggers every fifty kills, give or take. That gives us two more kills minimum. Another shot at the dropship?
Chittering electronic geth-speak broke into his thoughts. A geth jumper leaped towards him, limbs snapping open. Shepard almost casually drew his sidearm, and fired three shots. Two impacted the machine's chest region, the last blew through its flashlight head. Close.
Tali fired another burst into the still body. "Bosth'tet. They're getting desperate, Shepard."
"I know," Shepard keyed the communicator. "Heavy marines, get ready for a missile strike. Dropship inbound soon."
On top of his words, Joker spoke up, "Shepard, you got more company, geth dropship and … it looks like a cruiser is pulling out and heading back here."
"Got it, Joker. Thank you." Shepard glanced at his HUD, once more switching channels, "Mako, target … here. Open fire as soon as the ship gets into range."
Marines were divided into specialties: Light, Infiltrator, Heavy and Engineer. Heavy marines carried the largest weapons, including a minimum of four rockets. Their separation between artillery and guided missiles was thin, but these maintained a true missile profile by virtue of their self-propelled nature. Knowing geth were present had spurred his marines to prepare larger numbers of the munitions than normal, perfect for what he planned next.
Shepard watched the sullen skies, watching for the ship. The atmosphere may have been slightly more than half of what Earth would have boasted – which should have made for a clearer view – but the ash and debris more than made up for it. Visibility, always a changing variable on a volcanic planet, currently held up. A tiny dot caught his attention, dimly reflecting Therum's main star.
"Incoming, west-northwest high." Shepard keyed up his rangefinder, holding it on target. "Two kilometers and closing … one point five … one point two … point nine … gentlemen, give it an unmarked grave."
Bursts of light rose from the shaded depths, gaining altitude. Another volley followed, fired seconds after the first. The major downfall of the Shrike missile launcher lay in its slow reload speed; the munitions were large enough to require separate launch sequences. But what they lacked in firing rate, they made up for in sheer power.
Even the Mako managed to elevate its main gun high enough to participate, launching a trio of 138 mm rounds into the low-flying ship.
The first barrage encountered low-powered shields; the second made impact with the hull itself. Combined with the armor-penetrating rounds by the Mako, the dropship had little chance of survival. Its bulk lost altitude, crashing into a molten lava pit.
The cheers emanating from his headset surprised Shepard, but he understood. Quarians had told the Alliance about the mistake they had made with the geth; he didn't completely agree, but could empathize with their collective need for revenge. So long as it didn't interfere with his job, who was he to stand in the way?
The omni-tool buzzed gently, alerting him to another message. "Commander, the cruiser is almost here. It's just the one though, want us to take it down?"
"No," Shepard highlighted another navpoint, only half a kilometer from the target site. "Stalk it, and let me know if it gets close. Make sure Hackett knows." He shook his head; space combat was a fiercely technical issue. He was confident of his own skill, but delegating extra-terrestrial tactics always baffled him. For a moment, he regretted not taking more time to master the subject … but pushed the thought aside.
"Sir, we have eyeballs on the target." Lieutenant Jensen's husky tenor broke over the channel, breathing hard. Apparently it took quite a bit of concentration to keep his squad in order. "Permission to engage?"
"Wait for us," Shepard waved his own squad forwards. "We'll be there in five."
It took a few minutes to cross the rough terrain. Boulders, mammoth rocks buried in the hot earth, forced their route in awkward directions. No satellite could detail a completely accurate rendition of the planet's surface. It would take multiple passes, with dozens of sensors all devoted to measuring every square centimeter before a reasonably accurate model could be created. Modern technology could do wonders, but errors stampeded through hasty readings.
He reached cover well away from the target, and almost ran into a kneeling light-assault soldier. With armor covering the normal physical tells, he had to rely on his HUD, indicating Lieutenant rank … Lieutenant Jørgensen. A quick search confirmed her temporary posting with Delta squad, since most of Bravo had the next cycle off.
"Sitrep Lieutenant?"
Her young voice indicated stress, but stayed well in control. "We have at least one Colossus class and three Armature class geth. Recon says there are a couple dozen walkers, but I haven't seen any yet."
While the HUD map showed multiple hostile contacts, Shepard still peeked over the ridge, ducking back when an Armature spat plasma in his direction. It took much longer than a standard hyper-sonic round to reach his position, but the damage it incurred was exponentially worse. Shields could theoretically take the hit, but he wasn't anxious to test it quite so personally. "I see what you mean."
The target lay in sight; a modern-looking hatchway, hardened against the worst Therum could deliver. A massive, ancient looking pipeline jutted out of the surrounding stone, traversing the gap and diving straight into the nearby cliff. Its pitted surface looked far older than the hatchway, as if years slid off its bulk as easily as shrapnel from the near-misses.
Shrapnel?
"Careful Commander!" Ashley's vibrating rumble bellowed over the chaotic sound of Therum's natural existence. When he looked, he could see her just behind an overhang, reloading.
"You all right Williams?" He drew his side-arm; while the rifle was more useful against the geth monstrosities, close-quarters infantry required a lighter touch.
One arm came up again, rotating into position. "Just peachy." Its armament opened fire, making sparks fly.
Jets flared to one side, just as Jørgensen lifted off. He could see her fling an explosive, using her superior altitude to gain distance. The jets cut off, dropping her to the ground a hairsbreadth under another plasma burst. Her helmet canted in his direction, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "Found one of the walkers, rocket trooper I think." A grenade went off, simultaneous as the fading of a red dot. "Excuse me, scratch one."
"Good work." Shepard launched an attack of his own, partially succeeding in shorting an Armature's shields. Ashley's fire instantly switched targets, whittling down the machine's defenses.
"Delta squad, are you in position?" Shepard popped an inconsequential snapshot at the armature, testing its reflexive algorithms. A Brawler was dangerous by almost any measurement, but worthless against something like an armored unit … unless you were doing something so simple as testing reflexes. He paused, freezing as a mammoth, fiery explosion enveloped the geth tank analogue's frame. What kind of pistol had he picked that morning …?
Then he caught sight of another light assault unit descending through the fire and flames. Two others flanked the descending unit, making the ground shake under the force of their explosives. It wasn't enough to actually destroy the battle-constructs, but it did force them to readjust under the battering.
Shepard winced. Things were happening too fast, moving too rapidly. Was that the geth strategy? Overwhelm with numbers? He felt an unaccustomed sneer twist at his upper lip; those were the tactics of a simpleton. The overwhelming processing power geth had at their disposal should have seen them making lightning decisions, outflanking his people at every turn. The minimum application of basic strategy should have seen a long-range ballistic attack, pulverizing the only route. Geth armatures were able to serve as both artillery and local fire support. Why hadn't the entire group shown up earlier?
No matter. Shepard heaved the thought onto a back burner. Currently, the heavy marines seemed to have taken to launching rockets as if they were a credit a dozen. Granted, geth tank-analogues took a great deal of damage, but there were easier ways.
"Marines! Watch your fire!" He switched channels, "Alenko, where's the Mako? We need fire support!"
"Sorry sir, I can't get any closer," the Canadian-born lieutenant responded. "Proceeding on foot. Wrex is going ahead, can you see him?"
"No, nothing yet – " Shepard scanned his surroundings. Why hadn't he requisitioned an Epimetheus mech? Mobile artillery with none of the awkward wheels would have been very useful at the moment.
His eyes focused at a point that seemed to vibrate. A guttural roar, emanating from the rocks hinted at what he was seeing. The krogan rushed out of the rocks, charging directly for the remaining colossus. One of the armatures was now missing two legs; somehow, its main gun appeared to be offline. The other still stood, but had negligible shielding. "Scratch that, Wrex is here. I think we have this handled, take your time."
Where's the infantry? Shepard checked his HUD again, noting the red dots floating around the small arena. One of the points moved slightly, nearing the apex of a hilltop, perfect for sniping. No you don't laddie. Not my boys. The long rifle swung into position, unfolding as it moved. The tiny clicking sounds it made sounded eternity to Shepard's ears. He might not be as good as a professional like Garrus, but fate always seemed to understand when he needed to kill.
The crosshairs came into focus, scanning up the rock and tightening on the metal ovoid. His finger pulled back in one smooth motion, leaving him with a deep sense of content. The gun camera played back the shot, noting the red flare as the floating unit self-destructed.
Realization sunk in, a lead weight pushing his innards towards his toes. That was a floater. Not a walker. Quickly, he scanned for the next blip on the HUD. Below, in a worrying twist, the Colossus seemed to be fighting with renewed vigor – easily holding off a krogan and a squad of marines.
Another floating drone came into view; it was dispatched with the same efficiency as its kin. Then a third. Below, the Colossus was still fighting, effortlessly repelling multiple rocket-propelled attacks. It was even shooting down some of the explosives mid-air, making the explosives detonate long before their effective range.
There had been an effective offense earlier, he knew that. The sniper duels had proven geth had a decent grasp on tactics. Why had they waited until now to demonstrate individual capability? There was only one possible answer.
[SSV Sigurd, Knossos System]
It was a trap.
Hackett inhaled slowly, letting the taste of adrenaline-charged air pass his nostrils. It mixed with the scent of ozone from the overcharged capacitors, a tangy sensation. He'd recognized the geth tactics from studies on quarian histories; a 'jies probing attack, followed by a Realk escape. The combined tactics had once been the galactic standard for taskforce competence. Anyone with a decent education four centuries ago would have opened with those paired maneuvers; the deceptively simple sequence had few effective counters.
That had, of course, been the opinion of three races born on land-predominant worlds, and one water-predominant society that had focused more on finesse than combat. Humans, on the other hand, sprung from a world filled with water. Devising an efficient counter had been among the first accomplishments Alliance Command had made, after learning about it from the erstwhile Alien Research Foundation.
Sometimes he wondered what had happened, to drive asari mercenaries to kill Doctor Pavenmeyer. But that was history, battle was now.
The geth had lost, and lost heavily in the first exchange. Their second offense had abandoned tradition for the practical, applying a turian forked approach with a twist. That had been much simpler to counter; the krogan had made that point abundantly obvious a millennia before.
Now, the geth were trying another quarian approach; Na'bahnte Ra'faaz, the 'Lover's Lost' attack. If they kept to their previous form, it would be a textbook assault: half the light forces attacking the star-ward flank while the heavy components made a slashing attack along the upper quadrant. It was a classic maneuver, invented by a spurned suitor if lore held true.
It would be rude to ignore such devotion to history.
"Captain," he may have been the Admiral, but on the Sigurd, the captain ran the ship while the Admiral conducted the fleet. "Come about thirty degrees larboard, rotate fifty degrees true."
He made the mental adjustment needed to address the fleet proper, signaling his communication officer. "Tadakatsu and Perseus groups, flanking speed. Match the Sigurd's orientation. Shields double front." An instant later he addressed the star-ward flank, "Ready GARDIAN batteries for rapid-fire. Beijing cruisers, I want two volleys at zero-mark-zero-five-two. Fire in thirty seconds."
Yes, the geth had sprung a trap, but it wasn't the kind designed to kill his ships. That would have been easy enough to understand … this was worse.
Geth could process information at light speed, and make decisions at nearly the same velocity. Orders could be given in the space of an eye-blink, and executed within seconds. The only saving grace he had was the distance involved; no matter how fast the geth could make decisions, he could see them kilometers away. No, that – while daunting – wasn't even mildly a problem.
Cruisers were big. Heavy. The metal found in a cruiser could build a small subdivision, and the delicate wiring inside the behemoths cost as much as that of a small skyscraper. Put a different way, cruisers were considered so valuable, they needed protection while they were protecting other things. That's why cruisers and defensive battle-grade space stations were found in the same place so often; investments protected investments.
Hackett kept calm, the battle would be won and most of his men would go home at the end of the mission. But deep down, the beginnings of terror were shaking at his core.
Even together, the enemy fleet was far inferior to the Alliance Fifth, but still they attacked. Throwing away an entire flotilla meant the geth were showing they had limitless resources. They were effectively forsaking a dozen cruisers. Hundreds of fighters were being lost in this engagement, more metal that required mining, refinement and processing without the benefit of Council factories. Even they managed to completely salvage the remains, it was still a major loss. All for one goal:
The geth had attacked to learn.
[Therum]
The final machine detonated with a horrendous clatter, rivaling the nearest volcano. Of course, that wasn't hard; volcanic activity on Therum seemed limited to seeping lava flows and the occasional flaming tower of melted stone. It was better to say the Colossus split the stones it had rested upon with the force of its death.
The tiny door, compared to the hulking wreck left by a destroyed armature, seemed innocent. Like a child's bandage, on a professional bodybuilder's arm. The sullen red stone surrounding its grimy metal was unnerving, only heightened by the orange glow from the nearest lava channel.
"Abandon hope all ye who enter," Shepard muttered in an undertone. Apparently he hadn't been quiet enough, by the chuckling sounds coming from Ashley's direction.
He took the time as they checked weapons and studied the squad's metrics. What he saw drew a disapproving expression on his face. Heart rates were elevated, which was normal, but stress levels were higher than they should have been. Heart rate history was overall far too high; lower than a civilian's, admittedly, but far from what he'd expected from what was supposed to be an elite force. Their results on paper had been excellent, the best in the Alliance outside of N-school graduates.
The only explanation for an entire squad to have such a poor response was a lack of training. Something he would remedy aboard the Normandy. In the meantime, they needed a break.
"All right," he raised his voice so the rest of the squads could hear him. "This one is for the specialists. Delta, pull what you can from the geth and trash the rest. Set up a perimeter; I'll ask Alpha squad to come down here for backup." He gave them a long look, "any questions?"
Jensen saluted. "We'll take it out here, sir. Good luck!"
Several of the quarians muttered, but followed suit. Shepard examined them for a moment; the quarians had been given a chance to fight geth, his own people benefited from their expertise, and he now had a squad of tired soldiers at his back. The specialist squad – I have to think up a proper name – was relatively fresh. Ashley, despite her charge to the front, didn't appear tired at the least. He turned back to his personal squad; if the quarians didn't like it, they'd have to deal with it.
A thought struck him. He smiled under the helmet; there were hundreds of jodies he could introduce to them. But the time for pleasure was later; work now.
"Ready squad," he waved Tali to the door, but it opened without hesitation – without even the most basic of security engaged. Through a minor exertion of will, he refrained from giving his opinion. Small ears were present. Every instinct he'd honed over the years was practically screaming, jumping up and down on his overly-sensitive paranoia … but the only way forward was inward.
Deep inside, where he hid his inmost secrets, Shepard made a promise. If the geth killed one of his squad on a mission for the Council, he would personally assassinate each Councilor that had been responsible for that mission.
Inside, the entrance looked similar to any cave. Like the surface rubble, the interior had a ruddy hue. While flat, the walls had an almost glossy sheen, evidence of volcanic activity. Cracks in the glaze assured the activity had been a long time past, but the fact they were deliberately walking into an apparent lava tube, on a volcanic planet – boggled.
"That's marble … I think." Kaiden stroked a gloved palm on a rounded bit of stone. "See the color flecks? A lot of heat in here at some point."
Shepard grunted, scanning the hall. Undeterred, Kaiden pushed on, "I bet we'll see some great samples down here. Think anyone would mind if I took a few?"
"I think there'll be so many explosions, nobody'll be able to tell what was left down here." Ashley chimed in dryly. "If you see something pretty, pick it up."
To Shepard's surprise, Wrex joined in, laughing in rough, gasping bursts. Unlike the others, he didn't have a helmet, shunning the protection as only a krogan could. "Yeah, all kinds of tech down here. Might be prothean too. Expensive."
It was so simple in theory, Shepard took point, waving Wrex to the next position. Go in, get the doctor, get out. Nothing was said about geth, paperwork, or planets that try to cook you. Or an enemy fleet. He cleared the first bend, waited impatiently for the group to catch up, and moved on.
It felt … wrong. Really, it was unnerving, having so many people waiting on his next decision; dependent on his ability to keep them alive. While ordinarily suicide, solo was better in his case. Maybe one or two others but not a full squad. No, there were only five other people. Squads required eight, two more than he had. Shepard sneered at the internal voice. It was close enough. The voice took a disapproving tone; you're exaggerating. It's not that bad, after ten years of minimal personnel operations, this is actually pleasant and you know it.
The heat was even higher inside, a fact he did not appreciate, giving him an excuse to think of something else. Give me cold any day. Negative forty? No problem. Wind-chill below that? Easy. This … he could feel the inside of his armor heating up. Clammy, sticky … blech. He checked his neighbors; no, didn't say that out loud.
What about Elysium? The traitorous voice needled his pride. That had an entire colony following your plans. Does that count?
A familiar white circle of light came into Shepard's view, tilting sideways. In an instant, his Brawler had cleared leather and spat incandescent fire. Element zero weapons may not have had the chemical properties to expel plasma, but the frictionless materials abraded a small quantity each time the weapon fired. Trace amounts were sloughed off, accelerating along with the projectile, but without the pellet's mass, it only superheated into plasma.
"Geth," he muttered into the microphone. A faint crashing sound drew a smile to his face. "Think I got him, too."
Wrex came alongside, a smirk on his tooth-filled maw. "Fast shot, Shepard. Might be some good after all."
"I try." Shepard shrugged. The truth was, he knew himself to be good … but it didn't pay to advertise an attitude.
His boots rang oddly. He looked at it, "Notice the ground?" he prodded at it with a toe, "Synthetic stuff, same thing they use in chemistry labs. Doesn't leech chemicals into the ground, perfect for archaeology."
Information-dissemination, he was rambling. "I want eyes on all corners. Two front and two back at all times," The Brawler made a satisfying metallic sound in his hand. He'd always been better with pistols than anything else … with the possible exception of close quarters combat. Shotguns were a complete mystery in his hands, and assault rifles were fair-to-middling. Long rifles though, he had a knack for those. It was something about the cold mindset, the calculation of each hit before it happened.
With pistols, it was even easier. He'd always been good with his hands, and pistols fit the niche quite easily.
Focus. The tunnel opened into a wider area not far ahead. The walkway itself worked into a semi-spiral descent, a dog's-leg curve around stalactites that helped his tension ease. If the cave had been around long enough so formations could exist, it was probably stable.
Three floating platforms drifted into sight, hovering next to what looked like the decrepit remains of a make-shift ramp. From where he stood, the things appeared to be three glowing eyes floating out of a formless chasm. The probes turned with eerie synchronism; even at a distance, Shepard could see their lenses contracting in the dim light. His pistol came up again in a one-handed grip, the other hand readying a tech attack.
He needn't have bothered. A grenade from Ashley's Menelaus platform detonated against the centermost probe, overloading its shields. Ordinarily, the probe would have survived the concussive force, but the immolating properties contained by the device flash-burned its frame. While the energy was insufficient to remove the shields of its companions, the shields were only reducing the damage by a percentage; more than enough bled through to impale one on a strut, and crush the other against the wall.
"Good shot." Shepard pulsed an infrasonic burst from his omni-too, letting it read the contours of the tunnel. A strange blue glow caught his attention; strange glowing panels over a dozen feet high by double that wide filled the far wall. It looked almost like an aquarium, but empty, forlorn.
Upon closer inspection, the path/ramp led near the edge of a vast opening in the floor. The prothean construction continued far beyond sight, the regular cyan-glowing chambers making a regular pattern as it descended.
"I've never visited a Prothean ruin before," Garrus commented thoughtfully. "Aside from the Citadel. Do you think this is typical?"
"No clue," Shepard eyed the path. The polymer had a rusted appearance, from the deitrus dropped by the planet's reddish stone. "Looks like they planned to make this place last. Lots of archaeologists working here though, at least at one point." He gestured at a platform, raised to near ceiling height, "I don't think most of this is natural. Must have bored a hole here, to see the rest of it."
Unprofessional, he thought, then reconsidered. By most current Alliance standards. For all I know, this is the result of a 'renovation archaeology' group, like the one that rebuilt the Coliseum.
Garrus made a thoughtful noise in his throat. "Hmm, like the Citadel. It looks a bit different though, not as … elegant."
"Yeah," Shepard glanced at the pristinely functional wall far ahead. While the obviously synthetic material looked as if it had been laid down days earlier, the surrounding rock had a polished appearance, residue of volcanic action. "Odd."
A howling, groaning sound caught his attention, muffled by the helmet. Shepard took a quick reading, and decided he could risk it. The helmet came off, bulky to handle; the shields would protect his head, but there was no breather for him to rely on for bad air now. Still, the moaning sound was much clearer. It made his blood sing … something familiar.
"Company," Wrex leveled his shotgun at the edge. Shepard didn't know how the old krogan had sensed them before they appeared, but easily recognized the blue fingers curling over the lip, followed by a skeletal face. It screamed at the krogan before vanishing in a spray of azure liquid.
Shepard adjusted his Brawler, aiming at the ledge. "Husks, the drones must have reported back before they were destroyed."
A second body appeared, moving with a jerky gait that seemed far too slow for its velocity. It made its way all the way up before another shot destroyed one of its legs, but then it had distracted them long enough for a veritable flood to arrive.
He loosed an electronic attack, detonating the sabotage charge in the machine-people's faces. They didn't flinch, confirming his suspicions. They weren't human anymore; just a body operated with cold programming. At least it made their approach uncoordinated.
"Williams! Lockdown!" Shepard sidestepped a rambling attack, returning the blow tenfold. "Next time, I'm bringing the ufbhert!"
"Lockdown engaged," Ashley's distorted voice boomed from behind. "Fire in the hole!"
He lunged to one side, bringing Kaiden with him. The biotic snagged Tali with a free arm, hurling the quarian to safety.
Twin machine-guns opened fire, mowing down husks with ease. Shepard picked off a straggler, feeling a vicious sense of glee as its head exploded. Stay low, move fast. Shoot first, die last. Another snap-shot caught a husk in the upper chest. Smoothly, he swapped hands, punching the cool-down switch in his omni-tool. The thermal coupling exposed itself to atmosphere, hissing as a minute quantity of steam boiled away. One shot – he fired left handed at a swooping geth probe, piercing its damaged shields – one kill; smirking, he spun the pistol around, clubbing the next husk with the grip, no luck, pure skill.
"Hoo-aww Commander!" Alenko blazed past, hands an incandescent blaze of light. A husk floated a hands-breadth from the Lieutenant, weightless until the young man's glowing hand made contact, crushing its head. "You tell 'em!"
Shepard blinked. Had he said that out loud?
Looking around, he could see the members of his squad moving … faster. More accurately. As if they were more confident … even Tali was blasting away with marine-grade efficiency. As he watched, she even choked the shotgun, using its mass to draw the weapon's cooldown reload onehanded. Impressive.
Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.
The last of the husks fell, and the thundering roar of Ashley's weaponry fell silent. Shepard gave her an appreciative nod as the locks disengaged, freeing the formerly immobile portions of the armor. The Menelaus power armor wasn't terribly dissimilar from a standard marine's gear; it just had more extensive supports to carry the larger weapons, once found solely on vehicle platforms. Compensating for full-auto-fire on both arms required a lower center of gravity, and a higher focus on the cooling systems. Lockdown mode turned the individual from a mobile assault platform to a static turret defense, capable of unleashing even higher damage downfield.
"Elevator," Shepard tapped the metal construct with his pistol. "Sets of three; Kaiden, Garrus with me, then Wrex, Ashley and Tali." It wasn't the wisest plan; enemy action was almost guaranteed, but biotics were a force multiplier in an uncertain battlefield, and Garrus's sniper skills had proven themselves adept at spotting targets. He had to go in the first wave as well; this was a highly sensitive mission after all.
Plus … Shepard glanced at the massive alien, and the woman in heavy power armor, then back at the decrepit lift. Each has to weigh over five hundred pounds. If the elevator breaks, better on the second trip.
He kept his sidearm ready, letting it roam freely across the open frame as the lift descended. The tracks were uneven, shaking the frame as it descended. Smooth, bulbous portions of rock reared towards the elevator, receding in sinuous curves, as if frozen in mid descent. To his left, the eerie sterile white Prothean construct continued its unaltered march downwards, energy curtains appearing at the same intervals.
Looks almost like a prison, Shepard thought. If it were wider, had a lot more openings. But … why underground, and so many openings? Make it a cylinder maybe, all cells watched by one guard?
The answer dropped into his mind. Access, or partially finished. If each … floor … is a cell, and can only be accessed from one side, he looked down into the abyss, Not an easy drop. Another thought struck, involuntarily widening his eyes. The other sides are the same type of rock. They must have deliberately built this in the center of a live volcano – maybe started it afterwards? A prison in a live volcano … just how powerful were these Protheans?
The elevator creaked ominously, grinding at the rails. It steadied, lowering itself once more, but Shepard frowned. Alliance hardware was often designed for a single Earth Gravity, despite the fact that multiple colonies boasted almost double. Hopefully, Council standards were a little better.
The contraption creaked again, then shuddered as the elevator groaned to a halt. Twisted metal, forced inward along the track jutted just into sight. Shepard was just glad it had bent as it had; if the rail had shifted outwards, the elevator would have fallen outwards as well.
Marine mancakes. Discount price.
Shepard shook his head. The doorway slid open, as if the circuitry's tiny brain were misfiring. He looked over the edge and ducked back. I'm crazy, that couldn't have been … he slowly extended his arm, omni-tool lens focused downward and feeding the visual directly to his visor.
Nothing. There was a broad section of platform, leaning outwards from the next blue field. Its dull, rust-colored frame seemed solid enough, and was actually rather scenic. If it weren't for blue blood staining the ground. He knew the signs; some of the blood streaked away to the side, drag marks.
No time like the present. Shepard prayed there were no more floating units watching him. Chin up, stomach in, he stepped off the elevator, slapping the Return key as he went. Garrus followed, gun at the ready, for what it was worth. Alenko hopped after them, landing effortlessly with his biotics.
It was a small drop, surprisingly close to the elevator's final stop. Shepard made the second hop down to the actual ground, careful to not twist an ankle over the rocks strewn across the platform. He squinted upwards, checking the overhanging ceiling. Something had to have dropped the rubble, but it didn't look like unstable ceiling was the answer. Archeologists, getting this far down, probably. Cave had to stop somewhere.
"H – hello?" A voice echoed strangely, reverberating as if from the insides of some tunnel. "Is someone there? Can you hear me out there? I'm trapped, and need help!"
Shepard sighed; just what I needed. He kept an eye on Garrus, or rather his shoulder; the turian was facing the open cavern at a ninety-degree angle.
Shepard managed to force his way past the last of the obstacles; junk piled up to his knees. Just beyond the blue field, Shepard could see an asari, floating in the energy.
I was right. He took in the rounded walls, perfectly smooth flooring, and the circuitry behind the field. A prison, for … something. The asari herself was familiar, but unrecognizable. Her face was gaunt, cheekbones protruding more than was healthy. The tentacles drooped sadly, still in their proper position, but sagging from lack of moisture.
"Hello again," Shepard tried to give her a smile, settling for a quirk at the corner of his mouth. He echoed a greeting from what felt like months before. "Doctor T'Soni, I presume?"
"Terrific," she muttered. "You're hallucinating Liara. Well, at least that's another new experience … I think."
"I'm Commander Shepard," he tried again, stifling his amusement. "You might remember me from Eden Prime."
"Of course," her voice turned semi-professional, "My mind would conjure something from recent memory. But why a human – prothean connection, perhaps? Maybe I am attempting to draw conjecture for future research?"
Shepard turned to Kaiden. "Malnutrition, dehydration, and a big dose of shock I'd say. What do you think?"
Her voice, barely mumbling, carried to his ears. "Now, the hallucination is conversing with another figment of my imagination. An interesting development. How many can I create before losing coherence?"
Kaiden had his omni-tool out, scanning. "Something's blocking me, I can't get a solid reading."
"No, this barrier is designed to confuse signals." Liara sighed, head drooping. "But I know this. Why am I going over it again?"
Shepard heard the whirring sound of the elevator once again. His brow furrowed, "How did you get in there, anyway?"
Her head came up. "Ah, yes. My subconscious wants me to retrace my steps, see where I went wrong." She took a breath, "This digsite is funded by the University of Thessia. I came here six months ago, and have been here ever since, except for one side trip to the human colony Eden Prime. After I returned, the others seemed … nervous. I didn't know why until the geth came. Presumably, some of the others were at least suspicious."
"I noticed the geth," Shepard scanned the short walkway, noting the ramp down at the end. "Do you know why they came?"
"An interesting question I would ask myself," she said. Her head canted, angling at Shepard curiously. "No, I have no idea. Given the interest shown by the geth to the Beacon on Eden Prime, I would assume they thought something similar is here." Liara gave a short, wheezing laugh, "obviously, they haven't been able to find it."
The elevator creaked into position, opening to allow Ashley enough room to descend. Her massive armor made the platform shake, attracting Liara's attention. "Ah. A protective figure, here to reassure my mind that all will be well? I appreciate the effort, if not the imagination."
Ashley made her way to the barrier, moving quickly. "Liara? Is that you?"
"Obviously," the asari heaved a sigh. "Even for a figment of my imagination, you seem to be familiar. Do I know you?"
The faceplate lifted, "It's me, Gunnery Chief Williams. We met on Eden Prime?"
Shepard left the two conversing, joining Garrus at the edge of the platform. "What do you see, Garrus?"
The turian, kneeling at the railing and peering through his rifle, made a minute shift. "Something different. More geth, other side of the cave. Two krogan as well, they seem to be giving the geth directions. Is that a mining laser?"
"Here?" Shepard glanced at the ceiling. It did have a fresh look, as if the existing structure had been widened recently. "Who knows," he shifted topics, "I thought this place was a prison."
Garrus flicked a mandible, "Mmm, possible. Functional look, easily cleaned tiles, plenty of room for expansion … very possible. I'm more worried about the geth."
"We'll take them down." Shepard raised his hand, rotating it in a circle to gather the squad's attention. "Tali, Garrus, Ashley. Stay here with Doctor T'Soni. You're working as spotter, Garrus. Tali, tech support, and keep talking to the doctor. Wrex and Kaiden, on me."
Shepard grinned at them. Behind, the asari was now grumbling about 'crazy humans' and 'too much late-night vids' … which only made his grin widen. Garrus raised his rifle, leaving Shepard to drop over the edge quietly. He managed to get fairly close to the geth, but not quite close enough to engage physically. He made a note.
Geth have perfect situational awareness. Knowing where each other are leaves any noises to be someone else. A good tactic to know.
The geth turned, raising its rifle in one smooth motion, but he was too close. Idly, he took a side-step, closing within striking distance. It reacted, sidling away from him, closer to a looming shadow. It didn't have enough time to react when Wrex burst from the darkness, shotgun firing at point blank range.
Threat assessment placed me as priority. Shepard felt one boot catch on a stone, turned the fall into a capoeira-like leap. Mono-maniacal. Another fact.
He found himself closer than anticipated to another unit, on the edge of their formation. Perhaps he'd tripped farther than he'd thought?
Shepard donned an empty grin like a suit of clothes, and pushed against the nearest geth. It gave way, just long enough to allow him enough leverage to grab its other shoulder, heaving its heavy weight around to face its fellows.
Hostages were useless with the geth. But using their bodies as shields was a completely different matter. He wrapped his omni-tool arm around the synthetic's neck, aiming the Brawler in the group's general direction. "Please, resist arrest."
They opened fire, riddling his protective shield with hyper-accelerated rounds. The geth Shepard was holding in place jerked spasmodically, twitching under the rate of fire. He overclocked the emitters in his left arm, unintentionally protecting the enemy under his arm as well as the arm itself. The geth managed to grasp his arm, and with inhuman strength, pulled it away in a single smooth gesture. It didn't bother holding on, but the high-density armor where its tri-dactyl grip had squeezed remained scuffed.
Shepard winced; he was going to be feeling that in the morning.
A booming crack from the other end of the cave echoed off the walls, dropping one of the geth minus a head. The geth immediately reacted, retreating in a flawlessly executed maneuver, putting large chunks of rock between themselves and the sniper. At the same time, they switched targets, alternating focus like a professional squad of N6 at the least.
Wrex took full advantage of the shift, coming to the assault with Kaiden at his side. The two focused on the more-slowly reacting enemy krogan. Their presence, however, seemed to initiate an intensely hostile reaction from the geth. A dozen – minus one–lights snapped over towards the pair.
In that moment, Shepard acted.
His omni-tool activated, sending a hundred thousand volts into the nearest geth platform, one that had conveniently stayed close enough to touch. His own armor, insulated against that type of attack, shrugged off the voltage without a qualm. The geth on the other hand, ceased to function.
This is more like it! Shepard's Brawler was already focused on a cybernetic head. At this close range, the round bypassed the nearest geth's kinetic barrier, passing though the long cylindrical shape it called a head.
The omni-blade came to life; oft unused in the Alliance, but always present nonetheless. Time to dance old friend. It drifted to the far side as he pushed away from the heavy metal body. The inherent biotics built into the Nightstalker armor triggered, giving off the faintest of lights while reducing the construct's mass. It flew forwards; perhaps reduced in mass, but its momentum uninhibited.
Gunshots rang out as Shepard moved. Experience alone kept him alive; ducking as he reached the next geth blade-first, cutting into its shoulder. The limb dropped; just as Shepard voluntarily fell to his upper back. Both legs came up, delivering a mule kick with a touch of biotic power. Not waiting to see the result, he flipped to his feet – without biotics.
Two geth had approached, an error on their part, but a cunning one. While he was still rising, one crouched while the other stayed upright; both opened fire, their disparate heights making it impossible for him to avoid taking damage. Across the room, the half0dozen geth left were rotating fire at beyond professional rates, driving Kaiden into cover, and forcing even Wrex to be more selective about his targets.
Shepard switched modes, mentally. He was close enough to the pair to spin sideways, letting his barriers take the damage until the barrel of a geth weapon fell into his grasp. While not as massive as a geth, Shepard tipped the scales enough to push the gun's owner backwards.
A Sabotage charge stunned the crouching geth, and Shepard decapitated the first with his omni-blade. As the body went slack, he dropped to his knees reaching around to force the second geth to turn its own gun on the remaining survivors.
Moving mass nearly threw him off his feet as Wrex charged past. The krogan reared back, bringing the force of his entire body behind a massive head-butt, crushing the geth's torso. Red eyes flicked to Shepard, almost as if in approval, then moved on.
Splintering metal, an agonized cry of synthetic pain, jerked at Shepard's attention. He ignored it, pulling down on the remaining krogan. It had Kaiden in a deadly game of keep-away, circling a stalagmite to block fire. Shepard distracted the krogan with a series of pot shots, sparking hot lead off its shields. Ordinarily, he'd be a little more covert with his skills, but this squad seemed to be with him for the long haul.
That, and Chakwas had a gift for guilt trips rivaling professional interrogators. She didn't play fair.
Whining gears gave him a split-second warning before a geth dropped on him from above. Its form – far more fluid than the others – just barely missed him, landing on the floor. Splayed like some giant frog, the death machine froze for a single moment, then leaped away, sticking to the wall.
The second krogan charged Shepard, head lowered. Between the two threats, Shepard did the only thing he could: retreat.
Here we go, Lion of Elysium, Butcher of Torfan, Killer of Kings … running for his life. He made the transition between standing and running in a heartbeat, two steps ahead of the krogan. It was a big one, close to Wrex in size. Under Therum's higher gravity, it had to weigh close to half a ton. But it was fast. The ground shook under his feet, present in the fractions of a second he needed them on the ground. Just what I need, encouragement. Thanks, I knew already!
Brief images flashed across his mind; cartoons from childhood, of animated characters fleeing monsters. A 'Prometheus School of Running Away' … even an old reference to King Arthur screaming the same phrase over and over. One thing was in his favor: humans had the most stamina of any species, barring the krogan. Quarians could out-sprint a man, and turians had a circulation method that kept them walking hours after a human would collapse, but humans could accelerate and keep it going far longer than most.
Except for the blasted krogan.
Shepard looked up, taking his eyes off the uneven floor. Garrus, crouched at the railing, met his eye, ridge raised at the sight. One tiny nod, and the plan fell into place.
Running still, now over halfway back along the cavern, Shepard felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Garrus's barrel focused on him, the black void of eternity almost winking at him. Bad place to be; mental note: avoid the business end. The barrel twitched to one side, and Shepard followed the direction, leading the krogan on a tangent.
Above, thunder rolled, and the planet reached up to seize his legs. Shepard twisted, rolling to one side as the krogan fell. It took a moment, but he could recognize the wound as fatal. Even a krogan couldn't get up after an armor-piercing long rifle's round penetrated the eye. Simple biology made it possible; the brain case was located further back than humans or asari, but the low entrance angle had ensured much … messiness.
He gave the turian a thumbs up, and turned back to the main group. Half a dozen down, two krogan gone; time for clean up.
Already he had his sidearm cleared for action, legs pumping. Having a krogan fall on his legs wasn't pleasant by any definition, but not the worst combat experience possible. Bioti-ball players had worse, for one.
Shepard slowed, not hearing the sound of battle. A periodic crunching was definitely present, but not the sound associated with battle.
Further in, lit by the harsh, clinical dig site lanterns, Wrex was methodically pounding the geth frames into scrap metal. He seemed … satisfied, by the action.
Shepard shook himself, gave everyone a visual once-over, and trotted back up the ramp. There were more gaps in the flat metal, but enough remained to keep it passable.
"Ashley?" He rose high enough to see the female marine standing protectively next to the barrier, Tali at her side.
Her helmet turned his way. "We're good Shepard. Caught a couple Hoppers making a try for the elevator." An eloquent shrug demonstrated her opinion. "Scrapped 'em. Tali's over there right now, poking away."
"Good." The quarian was one of the best engineers he'd ever seen, bringing the complex science almost to an art form. The more data he had on the geth, the better he'd feel about the whole situation. Things felt … off. The geth had wanted something, but it was starting to look like a toss-up between the asari and something in the complex.
Kaiden jogged up to him. "Sir, area clear. I think we've figured out how they were going to get through there."
The solution was obvious. "They were going to use the mining laser." Shepard kept his tone flat, un-judgmental.
Something must have leaked through; he saw the biotic wince. "Yessir. It looks like the only way through though."
Turning, Shepard stalked back up to the barrier. "Doctor, do you know of another way through the barrier?"
The asari groaned, "No, I have thought it over a thousand times. This is turning into a nightmare."
Her breath was coming shorter, and Shepard could see a light sheen on her forehead. That wasn't good; asari didn't sweat in the same way as humans; their cranial tentacles normally circulated enough blood to keep the entire body temperature regular. On occasion, liquid was exuded through their skin, but only during strenuous activities. So far, he hadn't seen the asari do anything more than twist helplessly.
Stress. She'll start coding in a minute. He lowered his voice, keeping it soothing. "Doctor, I'm afraid this will take a while. But since we have the time, I can introduce myself, again. Commander Karl Shepard, Systems Alliance, recently made Spectre for the Council."
The barrier undulated gently as she swung her head up. "A Spectre? The Alliance is not even an affiliate of the Council, let alone a Member."
Gravel crunched under Shepard's armor as he sat down. One hand gestured at Kaiden, indicating 'search' and 'escape.' Combat signals weren't the best solution, but a sufficiently intelligent man could make it do a lot of work.
"I'll check the lower side," Kaiden volunteered. "Tali, you want to come with? You might see something I don't."
"Um, I'm not really …" the face mask twisted as Kaiden made a quick motion. "Oh. Um, sure. Why not?"
Shepard stifled a groan. It was technically his job, reassure the Principle, figure out how to get things done, come up with a plan. At the moment though, he had no clue. How am I supposed to hack fifty thousand year old security? If it's been good enough to keep people out that long … well, at least it isn't brand new.
"So, all we have to do is get on the other side of the barrier, which is designed to keep out lava and armed geth," he surmised. "Should be simple enough."
The trapped asari snorted. Decorum had apparently flown far away. "The locking system is a quantum-level encryption, coded to a specific Prothean mind pattern." She struggled weakly. Shepard forced his attention to her face, ignoring … other things. "Unless you have a Prothean in your back pocket, I suggest trying something else."
That was an understatement. Shepard rose to his feet, gravel crunching once again. He slowly walked past Ashley, who was poking at the field with her gauntlet. It resisted her every motion, making her hand glide across the surface. Imitating her actions, he let his own hand trail across the barrier; noting its unusual qualities. Unlike the kinetic barriers his armor wielded, this was an almost tactile thing, pushing against his fingers, little ripples swirling around the contact points.
Attractive, really, the ripples jiggled around his gauntlet excitedly, as if in agreement. The vibrations shook his hand, like a pleasant massage. Such a pity it's in the way. I'd like to get a copy for a museum somewhere.
"What are you doing? How did you do that?" The asari's voice cut through.
Shepard looked up, surprised. "I haven't done anything yet …."
"That … shaking. I can feel it!" Liara insisted, "Nothing has elicited that kind of response before. Are you – real?" Her voice broke at the end, almost pitiful in its desperation.
"As real as the stone I'm standing on." Shepard ran his fingers across the barrier again. Little motes of light chased his fingers, following their every movement. "Do you mean to say that no one has seen this before?"
She shook her head. "Never. I tried every test I could think of; biotics, nano-insertions – everything."
Piles of hardware, lying on the floor behind the asari gave proof to her statement. Scanners, recording devices built to record every facet of unknown objects. Some of it resembled forensic gear; powerful microscopes designed to scan objects in even higher detail than what normal scanners were capable of producing. The entire pile was older than most of the human colonies … progeny of past academic attempts it seemed, but of high enough quality to make him jealous in truth. Tools of that sort weren't bought; they were handed down in older – alien – families as heirlooms.
That paled beside the reference to nanotechnology. For the Council races, Salarians had invented the science, but humans had perfected it. Shepard himself owned a majority of a nanotechnology firm based on Mindoir, and knew very well how expensive custom-designed models came.
He shrugged internally. "It might be personality. I've never been much of a people person." True, in one perspective; but that hadn't always been the case.
The field sparkled again, bits of light floating through the energy to reach his hand. Shepard flattened his palm against it, curious at its actions. A positive bloom of light reacted, spreading around his palm in an incandescent cloud. Spreading his fingers made the light churn into a cloud of effervescence, while conversely the tightening of a hand concentrated it into a pinprick.
Fascinated, he twisted his hand sideways, watching the pattern shift. It felt … certain. Familiar; a half-remembered action he once knew by heart. Something tugged at his memory, pulling him further – calling to him.
Low screaming caught his attention. Looking up, he saw Liara writhing inside, futilely jerking at her bonds. Startled, he withdrew his hand. The asari sagged, panting in relief.
"I'm sorry; I don't know what happened," he apologized, "It felt so familiar …."
Liara panted dragging in one breath after another. "Just … please be more careful."
Wincing, Shepard tentatively put his hand back on the barrier; while there was nothing he could compare it too, he could have been watching better. This time, he kept an eye on the asari as he drew his fingers across the filmy surface. She's more than a little dehydrated, he realized. It may be sealed in there, but she's lost enough water to … good Lord, her scalp is drooping. Medically speaking, the asari version of hair – cranial plokámi as they called them – were rigid, unmoving. Like rabbits on earth, they provided a channel for blood to flow, cooling off the entire body.
And her plokámi swaying meant a severe loss of water. A human with a similar lack would have been unconscious, or nearly dead; the fact that she was still conscious, actively trying to help, spoke volumes about her strength of will.
Again, gently, he started experimenting. The motes of light danced to his touch, flowing into position. If I can get the pattern right, just … how?
A thought struck him. Shifting, he aimed his palm at Liara, seeing the barrier swell under his touch. Softly, he pushed in her direction, hoping it would work.
It did. The asari floated backwards, drifting weightless to the back. The field flashed a lighter shade as she touched its perimeter, then faded completely, dumping her on her back.
A faint odor, unpleasant smelling … drifted out of the empty doorway. Shepard refrained from wrinkling his nose; he'd voluntarily forgone his helmet. What had he expected from a facility that had trapped someone in place long enough for extreme dehydration?
Kaiden was already moving across the barrier, scooting with the velocity achievable only by reducing his mass. Shepard held out a hand, stopping anyone else from entering.
"Sir!" Garrus protested, then subsided.
Nodding, Shepard waited until Kaiden made it fully across, then waved the turian on. It had taken a fluke accident to solve the problem; if the barrier triggered again, God only knew how it would get taken down. There was no guarantee his touch would make it respond once more.
What he did know, was that this was now an entirely different level of complicated. In the space of a few minutes, he'd encountered and used Prothean technology; a system that had baffled professionals for thousands of years.
This was going to be a strange after-action report. Speaking of which, "Joker, sitrep?"
"Commander, glad you're still with us. Um, sitrep, right. Admiral Hackett finished off the geth fleet, I mean destroyed every last ship, and he's headed this way. The geth cruiser is headed out though."
Odd.
"Did they … leave anything behind?" Shepard asked. It was his turn to walk across the field-base, and he didn't watch his surroundings as closely as he possibly should have. Consequently, he didn't see the faint sparks following his path, fading as he passed the field's edge.
"Two shuttles, headed your way. Ladar is painting them as turian make, but sensors are picking up only one heat signature, pretty small and hot."
Geth had minimal heat signatures, other than their power sinks. They didn't need shuttles either; a unit could drop from near-orbit and begin work with no issues. But to have two shuttles, one of which carried only one geth … unless it wasn't a geth?
"Joker, do you remember something called the kamikaze?" Shepard quickened his pace.
An expletive nearly shattered his eardrum. "On it Commander, they're taking evasive action. Cruiser is still going though."
"Do what you can." Shepard motioned to the others. "Wrex, take point. Ashely, with Wrex. Kaiden, Tali, rearguard. Garrus, with me." Stooping, he hefted the asari in a fireman's carry, careful to keep her head shielded from swinging wildly. She was light, less than seventy kilos if he was any judge.
"Hang in there T'Soni, we're getting you out of here."
She twitched, feebly. "Hauled like a cask of eliá. How humiliating."
Chuckling, he lifted her slightly higher, trusting Garrus to watch the path. "Think of it as extraction from interrogation. You did good, soldier."
"Great." Her response was more of a groan, but he appreciated it. At least her mind was still intact.
Further in was a much larger elevator than the shoddy bit of workmanship hanging on the cave walls. That particular contraption was still frozen nearly a story off the ground. Returning through it was possible, but dangerous. If it worked.
The contraption shuddered raising their position by several feet, shuddered again, and jerked upwards. Shepard instinctively widened his stance, crouching to lower his center of gravity. Wrex didn't appear to be having problems; but a krogan's center was naturally much lower than a human's. On the other hand, he'd never seen the krogan equivalent of ballet, so there were trade-offs.
Making a final, groaning sound, the elevator stopped. A small crack, showing the floor where they'd started was visible, but too small for even a contortionist to use.
Sighing, Shepard lowered himself to a squatting level. Movement on the far side of the crack caught his attention; a mostly destroyed geth unit crawling. Its legs were missing, and the torso was hanging apart in a fashion no human could survive. But it was making steady progress towards the mining laser.
"Terrific." Shepard muttered, unconsciously echoing the asari. On to the next idea. Never go anywhere without at least three exfil plans. A rule he'd rarely broken – when he was on his own. "Does anyone have a map of the place? Scans?"
Ashley raised a hand. "Good. Work with Garrus, we need another exfil site." He turned his head in the direction of the asari's top half, still draped across his shoulders. "I'm going to set you down now. You doing alright?"
A faint groaning met his ears, which stopped after she stopped moving. "I have been better, but I think I will survive."
Good. One less variable. While Ashley and Garrus were studying their own maps, he brought up his own. Different heads, different angles. The non-addressed squad members moved around the platform, Kaiden giving the asari another liquid pouch, Tali and Wrex examining their surroundings. Too many people. Have to judge better next time; don't need to squash every problem with numbers.
The droning roar of the mining laser activating stopped that thought. "Shoot. We're out of time folks."
The path upwards became … obvious. Every glimpse Shepard got of the prothean ruins emphasized his earlier thoughts; it was a prison. Limited number of exits, strong walls, and an almost foreboding sensation on every level.
They were slowly rising, level by level in the elevator that was now working … to a certain extent. Each floor looked identical, a barrier field – prison cell – on two sides, but never possessing adjoining walls. The mechanism lifting the elevator wasn't very high-tech, but raised by simple toothed gears made of an unidentified alloy. The elevator floor itself had ridges running to grates, cleanly polished at one point. Perfect for draining … fluids.
If that weren't enough, constant rumbling form below kept them from enjoying the ride.
Prison might be too mild a term, Shepard swiped a boot along the grime, knocking rubble through the grates while making a clean streak. Interrogation center, secret prison … designed to intimidate.
The crackle of gunfire started echoing overhead, the sound ricocheting down the smooth walls. Shepard clapped a hand to his earpiece, careful to not drop the asari. "Alpha squad, report!"
Static met his ears before, a hoarse baritone boomed in. "Alpha lead, Sigurd here; we have hard contact. Geth and krogan, repeat: geth and krogan." The transmission paused, "Delta is responding, we have them in a crossfire. Stand by."
Further static cut in, then faded. The sound of gunfire faded, burst out once more, then fell silent. The elevator groaned upwards another two floors.
Shepard leaped to answer his comm when it beeped at him. "Shepard."
"Sigurd here, all clear Commander. Feel free to come up any time now. Sigurd out."
Pacing, Shepard cast a worried eye upwards. He turned his back to the others, donning his helmet in preparation for the surface, but also pretending to focus on the slowly rolling gears – like a cake, he believed deception required as many layers as possible. Without looking, he triggered Wrex's private channel. "Opinion Wrex, but keep it quiet."
To the krogan's credit, there was no reaction, other than a twitching eye. "What."
"Do you think this was too easy?"
The krogan growled deep in his throat. "Too easy, yeah. They fought like pyjacks, maybe as good as fresh-hatched salarians."
"That's what I was afraid of." Shepard clicked off channel, folding his arms. While the geth had lost many bodies, the actual death of geth units had likely been very small. Maybe the ones in the cave, but there was a strong possibility a transmitter had linked the programs to the surface.
He flipped channels; the one benefit to their tortuously slow progress was that he had more than enough time to make contact. "Joker, progress report."
"The shuttles are … well, they headed towards the capital. They were shot down … crazy, huh?"
Shepard froze. That had made no sense whatsoever. Unless … "Joker, you said they were turian shuttles, right?"
"Yes sir."
Thumping one fist into the other, Shepard whirled back in a furious pace. That had nothing to do with combat … what was going on?
"Right. Pick us up Joker," Shepard shook his head slowly. "It's a win, but I don't know how much of one."
A/N: First, a big shout out of thanks to Nightstride the Best Beta Period, and F13D; co-author do Dawn of Titans, and Kicker Out Of Writers Block. The former for putting up with my occasional bouts of bad logic, and the latter for helping me get the initial Therum battle sequence started for real.
Lots to say, little space to say it; essentially, I'm working 2 jobs, and have spent over half the summer traveling. I love to travel, but am also looking forward to when colelge starts up again.
This is the longest chapter I've written, period, to help make up for the lack of posting. Got quite a few more stories to write, and I've gotten a lot down on black and white. Slightly new format (multiple POV and no Pavenmeyer intro), what do you think?
Story suggestion of the day: Palladius Enemy Returned (Story ID: 9736821). A tale of XCOM and Mass Effect, although it hasn't been updated in a while :/
Until next time!
Chuck
