Chapter 4: Mindoir, Shifting Fates and New Beginnings
Still on the Shadow Broker's ship. A day before the raid.
"Are you sure we are just going to fight some slavers, not a proper military?", I had to ask Mordin, who smiled smugly in response.
"Gave my best. Now, all focus on Einstein-Rosen Bridges and Alcubierre Drives. Casaba howitzers too.", he commented. "Older equations and schematics, but checks out.".
Before us was an assortment of weapons that rendered most military grade hardware we'd find throughout the galaxy worthless in comparison, almost screaming "I'm a cheat, yo!" at us. The Professor didn't actually manage to recreate the firearms we talked about in such a short time, but he succeeded in taking out the electromagnetic accelerator and switching it to a few "repurposed" tiny shield emitters, a feat he attributed to modern military flexibility and upgrade kits. However, this was close to a "hack job", considering that this wasn't his area of expertise, so its full potential wasn't revealed yet.
Impressed with their performance and at my insistence, Mordin bought the schematics for the M-96 Mattock, a reliable gun that colonist militias had been using for decades. With the freed space we got after changing the method of acceleration to gravity fields, we decided to add a few "features". I'm talking about stuff like frictionless materials, combat optics and modified kinetic coils (adjusted to work with gravity based acceleration, of course). The metal shaver was also changed to mix a bit of tungsten inside of each shaved off slug and a module was installed in the eezo-reducing field generator to add phasic properties. Still, these slugs weren't the serrated metal wedges that the M-22 Eviscerator used, but were still scratching the surface of international law due to their aerodynamic shape.
"What does this button do?". Thane asked, pointing to something that looked like a switch in the rifle and very close to the trigger, so that we could flip it easily.
"Ah, added two 'firing modes' to all weapons. Leverages higher efficiency of gravity based acceleration for minium heat production or maximum firepower.", the Professor began explaining to us. "First one, normal mode, feeds just enough energy to be a bit better than 'normal' Mattock. Extremely hard to overheat. Other one, call it enhanced mode for now, feeds energy close to what shield emitters need to stop eezo enhanced slugs. Overheats almost like High Explosive Rounds. Recoil much stronger. Problematic, even with applied gene mods.".
"So, this second firing mode is more like a 'fuck that guy in particular' or for 'oh shit!' moments, got it!", I quipped.
I was impressed with what Mordin managed to accomplish in such a short time. This reminded me of that time he not only found a Collector Seeker (the one that paralizes people) out of nowhere, but also developed a countermeasure in the nick of time. And this was only for an assault rifle. Thane probably only needed one shot from his sniper rifle to kill a shielded target, as if he was using a M-98 Widow, except he could wield it no problem and wasn't limited to an absurdly low amount of "ammo" (13 defeault "clip" size). In fact, the normal mode of this modified M-96 Mattock was like using the cut content "Hyper Rail", but without any of the downsides. Thus, a cheat; like starting ME2 with something on the level of 100% damage upgrade (and the armor piercing one), plus an alternate firing mode to up that to 1000% or crazy stuff like that.
"What about armor?", Thane inquired, glancing at me. "I know we've already talked about this, but you can't reveal your identity for now, given the other plans, and I don't wish to bring danger to my family.".
"Of course. Thought about that too. Follow me.", Mordin urged us to another part of the ship, where his brillance was shown yet again.
My armor was also almost unrecognizable from what it was. It was still black and red in all the right places, but it was much bulkier, almost like a heavy set. The design was changed to incorporate as many things as Mordin could and, under my nagging, it looked a lot like an up-to-date Master Chief suit (Mjolnir), closer to the armor used by the Spartans IVs, but one that had a fling with an N7 Defender Armor. It had its own VI that helped run many of the new systems, which included all sorts of sensors, radar, targeting aid, EVA and so on, but it was no Cortana, unfortunately. In order to hide our identities, our voice was changed, with mine being a gravelly voice, almost Vader-like, and our faces wwere completely hidden behind the helmet. This one, even more so, was unlike many of the helmets issued by militaries (such as the Alliance), since the audio/visuals were sent by outside cameras to an inside "screen", like a next-gen VR headset, only made better by tech we had here.
"Mordin, I want all the helmets going forward to be like this: no more 'glass' visors. There's no point in cladding yourself in armor if the enemy can just shoot you where there's none, the head.", I stated bluntly, to which the Professor nodded, sharing the feeling. This would also have a big psychological impact, especially my helmet, since enemies could only see glowing red where my eyes should've been, in a shape which resembles a mix between a Space Marine's helmet and a NCR ranger's one. "Oh, and make sure they can protect the brain well, even being hard enough to keep it intact after death.".
"Ah, multiple species joining in future. Considering diverse religious and ceremonial rites in case of death.", Mordin commented. "Many religious beliefs in afterlife demand intact body. Batarians, uniquely. Must preserve eyes. Soul leaves body through them. Preventing head deterioration… nice gesture.".
"Huh? Oh, yeah…", I casually agreed with him. "And for extra protection, of course. Maybe try to include some kind of stasis tech to keep the head well preserved, at least.".
The insignia of Hell's Angels was also present in the chest of the armor and in the top of the helmet, where the forehead would be. This, after all, would be our debut. And what a first impression it'd be.
As for the number of enemies? I wasn't very worried, because, in "canon", a patrol and/or a Carrier were all that was necessary to spook the batarians, making them run away. So, a proper fleet and our help would probably finish off the bastards there instead. Regardless, there was a hidden backup if things went wrong for some reason: some of the Shadow Broker's forces were sent there a few days prior. The excuse we gave them was to "gather information about the Alliance's tactics/effectiveness" or something to that effect.
We made it to the colony with a newly bought ship that was almost the size of a Frigate, since the Veshok-16 had to be returned after Mordin took a day off to complete his survey mission on Tuchanka. However, for its size, this new ship wasn't all that impressive, being closer to what a private mercenary group could reasonably get (mostly just a few weapons systems), but it only needed one person to pilot, so that was nice. We gave it a new paint job, to make sure we didn't get mixed in with the slavers, and put our emblem on it.
After parking the ship on the outskirts of the colony, in a somewhat secluded little place, we started walking to the cluster of prefab buildings they called a settlement, all the while pretending to be mercs who just stopped here to grab some supplies. While doing so, we scouted the area around Shepard's home, which was also on the outskirts, throwing little surveillance drones here and there to keep an eye on the place.
Moreover, Samara had been informed about the attack with enough time to arrive at the colony, with a hint that we could help find her "dangerous fugitive", but we hadn't seen any signs of her during this time.
Two hours before the raid began, the colony was warned by the Alliance about the attack and that reinforcements were on their way. So, we looked for whatever counted as a militia leader here and offered to provide our "services" for a token fee, as long as they promised to spread our name. In fact, the guy was grateful that mercs like us, which looked geared for war, didn't just up and leave, offering us a nice bounty on top of the promise.
With the civilians being herded into whatever counted as shelters here, which wasn't much given that this was merely a farming community and that the Alliance's colonization plans sucked ass, and after whipping/gearing up a somewhat presentable militia, we waited a few more minutes before flashes could be seen in space.
The Batarians had arrived; as did the Systems Alliance, a few minutes behind schedule.
And we were right in the center of it all.
Mindoir, low orbit. In the middle of the raid.
Ketrak Gar'Darso wasn't having a good day. Not at all.
To begin with, the colony wasn't as defenseless as he thought it would be, as if someone had given it prior warning. Then, a fleet of the Systems Alliance showed up not long after he sent his boys to the surface to pillage and grab a new batch of merchandise. It was a proper fleet, with one of those stupid new things that the blasted humans liked so much, a Carrier. He had been assured by the Hegemony that, if his luck was really rotten and the Alliance showed up, it'd just be a patrol fleet. His luck was more than rotten, apparently.
And, if that wasn't enough, he severely underestimated that damned ship of those two eyed primitives, believing the superior race's engineering marvel would surely make short work of those fighter "pests" attacking his ship. It didn't, which was why he was now crashing into the planet's surface while the rest of his "great fleet" was being routed and systematically cleaned up in space. Those that didn't manage to rabbit to FTL, like him, of course.
Being pissed was the least negative emotion Ketrak was feeling right now. It wasn't about grabbing slaves and making the humans give up the Traverse anymore. No, he was out for blood now. He'd take his remaining men, mostly of higher, proper caste, and kill as many colonists as they could before going down.
They crash-landed close to the biggest settlement of the colony, but even closer to a few "undefended" little farming communities in the outskirts. And, by some cosmic joke, that area just so happened to be where Shepard's family and friends were located. Instead of going to the larger cluster of prefabs, where population was the densest, Ketrak decided to start his little "revenge" at the less populated area first and, then, move to the parts where there would be more of a challenge.
Unbeknownst to him, however, that would bring a swift end to his rampage, before it could even begin properly, and grant him a fate worse than death. It'd also spark the desire to go full "paragade" in a certain future Spectre.
If this Universe had a will and a malevolent sense of humor, it'd probably be howling in laughter right about now…
Mindoir, planetside. A few minutes after the raid's start.
The defense plans had been formulated by the militia. The strategy decided was to lead the slavers into certain parts of the city, where there would be firm chokepoints, and try to overextend their lines. We took the job of being highly mobile "special forces", assisting where it was needed the most, and hitting those overextended lines. I had neither the tatical acumen to offer a better plan, nor the will to micromanage the situation, so we went with that plan.
Thane was like a grim-reaper here. He had his modified sniper rifle, which could one-shot even the most well protected enemy, but prefered to get up close and personal, vanishing between the enemy lines. The batarian slavers took a while to notice that their "friends" just kept disappearing mysteriously.
And the ones that did notice would meet the other end of my Mattock. A few trigger pulls, no more than four normal rounds, were all it took to kill one of the grunts. I'd probably take even less if they only had armor, but no kinetic barriers on their suits. Only one well geared guy, completely clad in heavy armor, took more than that to kill – six shots in total. I found out that I had seriously underestimated the firepower of this new modified assault rifle. The Mattock already packed a punch comparable to a sniper rifle even before any modification was made, so the switch to a better acceleration mechanism was crazy. In order to test its limits, I singled out a krogan among the attackers and changed to "enhanced mode". One shot to rip through his shields. Another one to crush his armor and penetrate skin. A final one to finish him off. My arm was hurting a bit and the weapon finally started to overheat, but that was nothing compared to the result.
We didn't meet more than a few squads of slavers, a fact that was probably the result of the defense plan and the reality that they didn't need high numbers to grab slaves when firearms worked as effective "leashes" to get people to comply. I had taken some grenades to this mission, in case things went bad; however, just like in the games, they went unused, because there was simply no need. Honestly, regardless if it was all the adrenaline or the feeling one gets during the endgame of ME1 (with never overheating weapons), I was enjoying the process of rushing from one defensive position to another, killing the slaving bastards and helping/saving people along the way.
Turning a corner, I saw that some batarians were dragging a little girl, around six years old. I swore she looked like the one from that background specific quest; Talitha, I think her name was. Not gonna happen this time, though.
Flanking them from an alley, I switched firing mode from the normal one, taking a shot at the guy dragging away the girl, a mere grunt not fit to wear quality armor, while a sniper's touch reached the guy next to him, also ending his life immediately. Before the one leading them could turn this into a hostage situation, I unloaded another two shots on him, ripping thought his shields and, soon after, his life.
With my rifle now quite hot, I switched to a newly modified pistol, the same one gifted to me by Mordin, and sprinted to the closest stunned batarian, shooting the gun at the same time at another enemy that was out in the open, and easily knocked him over due to the sheer weight of my suit. The shots, comparable to a rifle's punch due to the compact nature of shield emitters, made short work of that distant target and I turned the weapon to face the downed guy, whose crappy suit didn't last long under the rush of phasic tungsten mixed slugs shot way above supersonic speeds. While this was going on, the first enemy to react, a guy scrambling for cover, had his head blown by yet another ghost sniper shot. Thane had my back, as I knew he would, so I had rushed them.
The others finally reacted, aiming at me and shooting, which I shrugged off while returning fire with my now cooled down Mattock, not even bothering to manage its heat. With each few presses of the trigger, the firing mode having returned to its normal setting, another far away batarian would die. Those, of course, were "normal" just to me, because, in the slavers' eyes, it felt like I had tricked a semi-auto SMG into thinking it was a sniper rifle. Evidently, they were thoroughly shocked by now, even if the swift death of five of their "companions" in the span of a few seconds didn't do it, yet still pressed on, hoping against all hope that thermodynamics and common sense would melt the rifle of that blasted human in front of them. Spoiler, it wouldn't.
Desperate, two slavers rushed me wielding shotguns, trying to quickly deplete the other 50% of my shields. However, before they could get any ideas, I dodged into cover for a while and, in a surprise move, flanked them from the other side of it, using a few newly learned techniques of Thane to drop the duo to the ground, where they met their ends at the wrong side of an assault rifle.
By now, the only slavers left were those far away from this group, probably because they were looking for colonists to abduct, and even their warbeats were dead. These guys were thoroughly routed. So, anyway, I pointed my rifle at them and started blasting with impunity. One of the remaining batarians, who looked like a squad leader, started glowing blue, a telltale sign that he was a space wizard (cought, biotic) and was going to do a magic trick. This, however, was stopped by a final loud sniper gunshot, which rang much closer, as my companion had decided to show himself. So, the rest were swiftly mopped up by us. While all of this was happening, the little girl simply stood on the ground, forgetting to hide or run away. She just watched the carnage in silence, her immature mind trying to process all of this brutality and coming up short.
I carefully approached her, getting on one knee, and said "You are safe now. Go that way.", pointing to a nearby barricade/shelter. She finally woke up from the reverie, probably scared by the synthesized voice, and just scampered away. This kid wasn't the only one that had gotten lost in the chaos.
For half an hour, we almost moved through the whole settlement, reinforcing the militia and a few Alliance marines that had managed to shuttle their way here. Then, the Alliance soldiers that were dealing with the slavers close to the outskirts started pushing back the batarians. It wasn't all sunshine, though, as Thane would remind me.
"Commander, the flagship of the slavers crash-landed near here.", Thane said to me in our comms channel. We had decided to talk only in code names, especially during missions, in case we ever got hacked, somehow. I was the Commander and he was Shade. "There might be survivors.".
"Where exactly, Shade?", I asked, knowing where it probably crashed, but still holding on to a little bit of hope that it wasn't there.
"Very close to that place.", Thane, however, promptly shattered my hopes and dreams.
"Of course they would. Batarians can't even die right.", I replied sarcastically. "Let's move that way.".
Mindoir, outskirts.
Jane was having a good day. She woke up invigorated, the food was delicious, like only a home cooked one could be, and she would have fun with her friends all day long.
Then, it all came crashing down. News of a batarian slave raid was released, the colony went into defense mode and the Alliance was coming with reinforcements while the militia dealt with the first waves of attack. Her parents had decided to hide in their home, rather than hide in a shelter, because that was where the batarians would hit the hardest, looking to abduct the highest number of people. Besides, the militia was holding on, so it'd end in a while, they said. They just needed to wait. This was true until a slaver ship literally crashed down near her little farming community.
Not long after, shouts and gunshots rang out from the outside, and a very ugly and evil looking batarian rushed inside her house, those saw teeth she'd only seen in the extranet forming a sadistic grin. With him was a group of batarian slavers, who destroyed the front door and easily knocked away the colony issued rifle from her father's hand before beating him to the ground. She was hiding in a secret place in the living room, holding her breath, but could see everything that was happening. Her only hope was that her mother could escape thought the window in her parent's room.
"You two eyed primitives… you think you can just take our planets and there won't be any consequences?", the bad guy was monologuing, but she knew it wouldn't last long. "You need to learn your place in this Universe…".
Sure enough, after savoring this moment of complete control, the batarian leader aimed a pistol at her father's head, preparing to shoot. Time seemed to slow down. She could see the shot firing, meeting his target and her father leaving her life forever. And, during all of it, she could do nothing. The helplessness was overwhelming and she almost rushed to try and prevent it, to fight, even though she knew it would be to no avail.
It was then that one of the batarians close to the door simply went flying into another one, followed by a very loud burst that seemed to erase the shields and sever the hand of the batarian leader. A man in black and red leather, blue wisps of energy swirling around him, came rolling through the window soon after, beating up the batarians with his bare hands or with powerful biotic abilities, while loud shots coming from the door would finish off those farther away.
The slaver leader still managed to shoot her father in the arm, a grazing shot, one that missed any fatal areas of the body. Hope now filling her, Shepard left the hiding place and ran to him, making sure that he was alright, taking them both to cover and away from the ongoing fight. Soon after, she saw another guy in black and red, the one who threw that batarian at another one and saved her father's life. In her opinion, he looked even scarier than the slavers, but there was something paradoxically bewildering about his helmet. This was reflected in his actions, as every burst shot from his rifle was as deadly as it was loud, painting her house red with batarian slaver blood, but also delivering swift retribution upon them.
However, it didn't end there. Before things could calm down, two very mangled batarians were thrown inside of her house from another entrance. Jane Shepard started to wonder if her little residence had become the center of all excitement in the galaxy. Shortly after that impromptu entrance, an asari in a very revealing outfit and surrounded by whirling wisps of biotic power came in.
"Oh my! Did I hurt anyone?", casually asked the blue woman. The fighting finally stopped and there was silence from the more immediate surroundings, save for the fighting sounds still coming from the city.
"Who are you guys?", Shepard gathered her courage and asked, holding her wounded father closely.
"I am Samael, the Commander of Hell's Angels.", answered the scary looking one, his voice equally daunting.
"I am Shade.", responded the biotic man, his voice a bit less synthetic.
"My name is Samara, a servant of the Justicar Code.", the asari responded.
They all turned to her as they spoke, naturally doing a "standing in a line dramatically", in Shepard's opinion, just like in the vids she watched every once in a while. Unbeknownst to her, Jane's eyes were shining, going from Samael to Samara.
"Can I also be like you?", she asked them.
"Dear, never let others dictate what you can or cannot be.", answered Samara.
"That depends.", Samael answered. "Do you just want to look 'cool' or do you wish to never again leave your fate in the hands of others?".
"I…", she began responding. However, at that moment, the batarian leader started making some noises and moving a little. His dominant arm, especially closer to his hand, was all mangled, but he could recover mobility if things were left as they were.
Samael then moved, his Omni-tool glowing in a recognizable orange light, overloaded/fried the guy's shields, took a heavy-looking pistol from his hip, put it into Shepard's hands and asked her: "See this vermin?", all the while lifting her up and aiding the 16 year old girl in aiming that pistol at the batarian's leg.
Samara looked like she was about to do something, but stopped.
"He would have taken everything from you. Your family… ", BANG! A cry of pain came from the slaver. "Your friends…", BANG! Another cry at the pain coming from his other leg. "Your innocence and happiness.", BANG! The cry came for the other arm, but the volume was much lower this time. "Being 'cool' is not a problem. But, if you don't want to feel helpless ever again, then you need to become strong. Because the galaxy is filled with scum like that. And it's not everyday that you'll get lucky.", he said, leaving the gun in her hands.
"Commander, there are batarian reinforcements coming.", Thane interrupted them, giving some bad news. "They're probably trying to save what's left of their 'leader' here.".
"Let's go secure the perimeter.", Samael replied and turned to the asari. "You coming with us?".
"Yes. I would like to speak with you after this is over.", Samara told the duo, to which both of them nodded, before rushing out of the house.
"Wait, your pistol!", Jane tried to shout, but to no effect. They were already gone.
She then looked at the pistol in her hands, still feeling the vibrations from the shots. On it, there was an emblem, the same one present on the chests and helmets of those two. It looked like a five-pointed blue star, with two chevrons over it, superimposed on which were symmetrical, flaming red wings, with four large lines up and one small down on either side. If Shepard had played her own game, she'd know those were the symbols for paragon and renegade paths, only with their colors flipped. Noticing that the weapon was unlocked, she stared at the dead batarians and their now thoroughly disabled leader, who was convulsing on the floor. At the same time, she remembered how helpless she felt just a few moments ago and thought about the words spoken by that self-proclaimed "Commander".
Jane Shepard took a deep breath, carried her wounded father to be nursed with medi-gel by her mother, Hannah, and put on the less damaged armor (of the slavers) she could find, minus the helmet, before going outside.
She had decided to take her fate into her own hands.
Those slavers were just the beginning.
They would not be the end.
Mindoir, right outside of the Shepard's prefab housing.
This didn't look good. It seemed that, by taking out the leader, we kicked a varren's nest, literally and figuratively. All the remaining slavers and their "warbeasts" that came out of the crashed ship were converging on our position. The good news was that the Alliance marines were also coming this way, but they'd be a little late.
While we were preparing to meet our new guests, I was thinking about Shepard. She looked like the standard FemShep: red hair, green eyes and a few freckles here and there. But she looked like her adult version, except at 16 years old! Not the aesthetic aspect though, but the physical fitness. People always gave flak about how the 30-ish years old FemShep looked like a supermodel instead of a supersoldier, showing clips of her doing things way beyond her body mass. Sure, they had a point. The way the OT presented things was quite silly. But this one was already "well built" even before training and gene mods. I could only imagine what kind of amazon would be created after she passed the N7 Program. And I was pretty sure she would join the Alliance after my "little stunt".
[Recommended Music (Loop): Mass Effect 2 - Overlord DLC (Combat Theme) / watch?v=pgYM8uRcsIA]
Coming back to reality, I finally spotted our guests. Before they could be annoying, I took out some warbeast, one rifle trigger for each. Meanwhile, Thane sneaked in towards the back of the batarians and started assassinating them quietly, which I helped by being very loud with my rifle and flashy with my granades.
Samara was single-handedly covering our flank, taking on whole squads of batarians by herself while turning a few of them into abstract art. One of them escaped her net and came closer to me, but, before I could give him his deserved attention, he was taken down by an unceasing roar of hand cannon shots.
Lo and behold, there she was: Jane Shepard, wearing some shitty bloodstained batarian armor, with no helmet on and holding my pistol in her shaking hands. Beyond that, there was also a fierce, determined expression in her eyes. Yup, this was the look of someone that would join the military and become a hero in the future. However, not right now, so I shouted at her: "Take cover behind that chest-high wall and just suppress them with fire. Don't try to be a hero, yet. You need training for that.", to which she just smiled and obliged.
While I was distracted, two more squads of slavers came closer, so I threw a flash grenade (same one the Broker's forces use), and shouted "Cover me!" to Thane in our channel, which he did by switching to the sniper rifle and one-shoting the squad leader furthest away.
After the grenade exploded, I rushed to the guy with the "I'm the manager" look and used my momentum to kick him on the leg, shove my assault rifle through his right armpit and turn him over to use as a batarian shield, aiming and pulling the trigger freely while his arm was bent back. Anyone that recovered and/or tried to shoot me had their head turned into tiny giblets by sniper fire and one guy outside of cover was taken down by Shepard. In addition to that, she decided to focus her attention on the warbeasts, freeing us to kill other targets. This, I figured, wasn't due to some hate of doggos or something, but because they needed to get closer to us, which made them easier targets than those batarians who had learned the Forbidden Art of shooting things from behind cover.
My rifle barely got hot, even after shooting non-stop with it, a fact that puzzled the slavers, who would've known about it had their colleagues not met their swift end at the wrong side of this very same weapon. Well, it did puzzle them for the remainder of their average life expectancy, which was getting exponentially shorter rather quickly, because we had found our tempo after one minute of mayhem. Also, during the chaos, I didn't forget to throw the batarian squad leader's rifle to Shepard after slicing his neck, so that she could have moar dakka, albeit having to constantly cycle weapons. The batarians must've nodded internally at that. This was how things were supposed to be. Assault rifles without high-end mods to decrease things like friction and recoil, with crappy heatsinks and using inefficient electromagnetic accelerators, which ate more energy and space than gravity based ones for an equal punch, produced a lot of waste heat. So, they kept pushing on, pattern recognition telling them that they'd outshoot their enemies eventually, surely. That lasted for a few good minutes before the slavers finally figured out that things weren't going to go their way, ever.
So, they went after the less mobile of us, Shepard, with a rocket launcher. She tried to aim at the guy, but Thane was faster, finishing the slaver with a single shot. Then, I rushed to his location, took the rocket launcher, a piece of hardware that looked even crappier than the ML-77 Missile Launcher, and fired at a gathering of batarians. They blew up close to a tank of flammable stuff, which exploded the rest of the bastards and set fire to at least half of the place.
That didn't stop the slavers, though, only made them even more rabid. They concentrated everything that was left in our general vicinity. I actually started to get worried, because leaving cover to shoot was getting harder and harder to pull off. Even Samara switched to using a ranged weapon. The good news, however, was that Alliance marines had finally reached us, doing a pincer attack that routed what was left of the enemy.
Shepard, Samara, Thane and I all decided to leave cover and rush the fleeing enemies, a feat that was helped by Samara's singularities and Thane's lifts. Shepard was now used to shooting with assault rifles, killing many batarians until her weapon almost overheated, before switching to my pistol and finishing off the last strangler.
[Music Stops]
After it was over, the marines looked at us and the large pile of bodies with awe and reverence. The fire burning in the background only added to the whole picturesque scene. That lasted a few long seconds before the guy in charge approached us.
"Hello. I'm Lieutenant Ernesto Zabaleta with the carrier SSV Einstein.", he introduced himself to us. "You the fine gentlemen that held off this wave of Batarians?".
"Yes. That you be us, Lt., and the misses over there.", I said, pointing at Samara and Shepard. "I'm Commander Samael, of the Hell's Angels PMC. This is my colleague, Shade. We were getting some supplies and rest in this colony when those bastards showed up. Their leader is… secured inside, by the way.", I said to the Lt., pointing towards Shepard's prefab house.
"Here, your pistol.", Jane came over and returned my pistol. "Thanks for letting me use it without asking for permission.".
"No problem. You're pretty good.", I assured her, patting her on the shoulder.
The Lieutenant finally noticed that there actually was a civilian there, that whole surreal scene distracting him from figuring it out at first. He could tell because the armor she wore was of batarian design and the bloodstains were too much to have come from this girl.
"Kid, with such fierceness, you might even make it into the N Program! If you ever decide to enlist, mention me.", joked Lieutenant Ernesto, not knowing how right he was. "Well, you don't mind if we go inside your house to grab the batarian leader, right?",
"No, not at all. Please, go ahead.", she responded, giving him the green light. "Lock him far away from here and throw away the key.". After that, the Lt. walked away, going to grab his prisoner, and Jane Shepard muttered: "It's finally over…".
"Yeah... Yes it is. You know what? You should prove him wrong.", I said all of a sudden, turning to her. "Make it into N7 — and even higher.". Then, I also walked away, going to help Thane and Samara with some of the clean up.
Shepard just stared at the Alliance soldiers with a thoughtful look on her face.
Mindoir, in a quiet place. An hour after the raid officially ended.
"Commander, you impress me.", said Samara. She was exactly as I remembered. And, seeing her for real now, I could understand why some fans jokingly called her Busty, the Sex Vampire Slayer. "I guess you are the one said to be able to help me find my 'incredibly dangerous fugitive'.".
"More than that, we can give you a truly worthy foe to face against and a noble cause to save many innocent lives.", I confirmed her suspicions, deciding to explain our circumstances a bit. "Just, sorry we had to kinda bait you here. Our schedule was a little tight, so we couldn't set up a proper meeting.".
"I do not mind the small deceit when saving innocent lives is concerned.", she responded, nodding off my worries.
"We've got a ship parked close by.", I brought up. "My… source of information is a little bit sensitive, so we should talk there. Unless you think it's a problem?".
"I do not mind.", answered Samara. "You are clearly not bad people, considering you just helped save this colony, and I came here by hitching a ride with a freighter.".
"Let's go then.", said Thane.
On our little ship, we unloaded our gear/equipment and checked if everything was in order. Thane went to write a report to Mordin about our weapons and everything that happened, while I dealt with Samara. Before anything, there was something I needed to make crystal clear with her.
"Okay, before we begin, I must have you know that the source of information is my memories and those, along with how I know the things I do, must be kept secret.", I revealed to her. "You do not have to swear by the Code that the things I'll show you will not leave this ship. Swearing by your name is enough, because I know you are just and honorable.".
"Very well.", she said after a while with narrowed eyes. "But know that I can't keep my word of secrecy if what you show involves anything very dishonorable.", to which I nodded in agreement. "I, Samara, swear, by my name only, that I will do my best to keep the secrets revealed in this ship hidden, unless they involve serious violations of the Justicar Code.".
With that out of the way, I decided to take off my helmet to do the melding and as a show of trust. If she was going to be a core member, then we'd need that kind of trust between us. Samara looked surprised at my age, but made no comment.
"Ok. Now, you get to choose between just the information you want or everything I've got about our 'bigger cause'.", I told her with a smile. "Be warned, though, it'll change your life forever and everything you thought you knew about the galaxy.".
"Since it involves a worthy foe and many lives are at stake, as you claimed, I'll accept everything you can pass to me.", Samara answered resolutely.
"Ok. It will take quite a while.", I asked her. "It's not a problem if we plot a course to the Citadel, right?".
"Not at all.", she agreed. "I could use the ride.".
After that, I showed everything to her through melding, such as the main events of the trilogy, even her possible future and confrontation with Morinth. By everything, I meant even the main conversation back in the Broker's ship. During the process, I could feel Samara going through a "roller-coaster" of emotions (fear, horror, anger, sorrow, happiness, hope, ending with calmness after learning some of our plans). And I'd confirmed something else: the older the asari are, the stronger they were at melding, with Samara being able to receive all of it in one sitting and someone like Benezia being capable of ripping memories even from an alien mind.
"You can take that information and wait to spring a trap in a few years or you can join us, use our Network, get Morinth much faster and fight bigger fish; giant space cuttlefish, to be exact.", I joked as we were recuperating from the meld.
Samara just stood there for a good few seconds, with a thoughtful expression on her face, before turning to me with a tired, but determined expression.
"I've decided to join your cause.", she declared. This wasn't very surprising to me. After all, Shepard picking up a shipping manifest for her was enough to ensure her cooperation and loyalty through just about anything except creating a huge biotic shield in a disaster area. And our cause was much, much grander. "However, before that, I must be sworn into your service, so that I am never forced to choose between your orders and the Code.".
Samara's eyes glowed white and she went down low on one knee, her back hunched over and her face pointed downwards as she closed her eyes.
"By the Code, I will serve you, either as Commander Samael or as any other name you might take. Your choices are my choices, your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my code.", she said and glowed blue one last time.
"I'm glad to have you on board, Samara, and I'm happy I did not misread you. Welcome to our little inner circle of conspirators!", I quipped with a smile.
"How was it again? 'If you make me do anything extremely dishonorable, I may need to kill you when I am released from my oath'.", she joked back. Or did she?
"Good to have you back. We'll be reaching the Citadel in a few hours.", Thane informed us over the intercomm. "On another note, Mordin is already searching for information about Morinth.".
"Thane and I have some business to do in the Citadel and it might take a few days.", I informed her. "Hope you don't mind sticking with us for now.".
"That's not a problem. I've decided to follow you for the time being.", she answered.
"Alright. Samara, you remember 'Jack' from those 'visions', right?", I suddenly asked her with a grin. "Tell me, after we're done with our business in the Citadel, how would you feel about saving a lot of kidnapped children from Cerberus and taking a human biotic genius as an apprentice?".
"That… seems like a good proposition.", she responded with a smile of her own. "Truly, the life of a Justicar can get lonely. I admit, I am looking forward to serving with a company of honorable heroes. I just wish to meditate on these new... memories I now have.".
"Sir, I looked at what's left of the slavers' leader and it's all kinds of wrong.", said a soldier during the clean up.
"What's there to worry about him? He's done for!", replied the Lt., shaking his head. "The Alliance would lock him up for life in some godforsaken place and the Hegemony won't care about that guy after losing all of his fleet.".
"That's not it, sir. It's his wounds.", the soldier said. "They are beyond anything we could do. I think those mercs were packing top-grade gear, even better than our Lancers.".
"Soldier!", suddenly shouted the Lt.
"Yes, sir!", he swiftly replied.
"You didn't see what those batarians bastards did to a few of the colonists… what they would've done if we had arrived late. Now, those mercs… they saved a lot of people, a lot of good people, and gave the hell those slaver scum deserved. So, we saw nothing here today, do you copy?", questioned Lt. Ernesto, ordering with a fierce glare.
"Sir, yes sir!", the marine shouted in response.
"Besides, that was a Justicar that left with them.", said the Lt.. "You don't want to get in their way.".
"Aye aye, sir!", the soldier saluted and went back to his work.
"Hell's Angels, huh?", muttered the Lt. "After this stunt, they'll probably become famous.".
The Citadel. Approximately one day later.
Returning here as I was now, it was insane how different everything was from that time I had nothing but my clothes. It was proof of how much things can change in a short period of time, just like how I planned on doing during those 16 years we still had left.
Besides running the Network and training me, Thane had spent his time getting closer to his family. I thought that, if nothing else, knowing about Irikah's death and seeing what Kolyat might've become (an assassin) during his final moments in ME3 changed him. So, he decided to have a little family vacation in the Zakera Ward.
On the other hand, Samara decided to stay on the ship meditating. She said that waiting a few days was not a problem, even a week was alright with our supplies, though I assured her it'd only take a few days to get everything sorted here.
In order to prevent trouble and do some legal business, I pulled a famous superhero move: switching from the suit to a more common armor set and, in a secure warehouse of the Shadow Broker, to a proper business suit. While walking towards the first destination for the day, my attention was drawn to a news report in a holographic display.
...
In other news, the human colony of Mindoir was attacked by a slaver fleet a day ago. What could've been a great tragedy, however, ended with the complete defeat of the criminals after the timely intervention of the Alliance Navy. In addition to that, witnesses reported that a mercenary duo of an unknown PMC named Hell's Angels, along with a Justicar, were instrumental in resisting the raid until the marines could reach the colony.
Talitha, a six year old girl that met one of the mercenaries, recounted: "I got lost from mommy and daddy when the bad men came. It was very scary. They kept shouting and hurting me until the big scary man came. He made all the bad guys stop and sent me to the adults. Mommy and daddy were there looking for me.".
Lieutenant Ernesto Zabaleta, who led the ground team, also had things to say: "Things were under control until the flagship of the batarian slavers crashed, mostly intact, on the colony. When we got there expecting all the farming communities in the outskirts to be slaughtered, what we found was a personal hell for the batarians. There were slaver corpses, blood and body parts everywhere, while fire raged in more than half of the place. It was as if someone had summoned that Commander Samael and his team straight from Hell to deliver punishment to the wicked.".
Some vids were leaked of the incident on the extranet. The brutal scenes, allied with the peculiar armor aesthetic and the name Samael, have led some extranet users to dub the so-called Commander as The Devil of Mindoir, in reference to a human religious figure.
...
Oh, nice! We already made a name for ourselves. Good thing I changed my outfit by now, though.
Arriving again at the Presidium, my first target was spotted: the Volus and Elcor Embassy. This was more like a "side quest" that I took upon myself in order to make the galaxy a bit more prepared, one that was inspired by a fic that I'd read before coming here. And do you know the best part? It wouldn't cost much more than offering a few words and a new perspective.
The downside was that I'd have to deal with a rude asshole named Din Korlack, the volus ambassador, who openly disliked humans. He felt that the Council was "favoring" humanity (somehow) at the expense of his own people and was annoyed that the volus had no Council Seat, despite his species' long history with the Citadel. Also, he was the kind of guy to establish connections with Cerberus during the events of ME2.
I didn't need to worry about being slighted, however, since my meeting with him was set up with some very impressive connections. Having both the Consort and the Shadow Broker as backers was very handy, as it turned out.
Reaching the embassy, I stepped into the office and walked over to the short volus sitting at his desk. To be honest, the little guy was a little comical. Calyn, the elcor ambassador, wasn't present here. Apparently, one of Din Korlack's biggest gripes was that it was nearly impossible for those two to do business in their office, since they were unable to make appointments at the same time. Given that the volus were responsible for much of the turian economy and their own, that meant they needed to have lots of business meetings and conference calls. So, confidentiality was nearly impossible and the ambassadors had lots of conflicting scheduling issues. This was merely one of the blatant disregards that the Citadel Council had towards their "clients".
"Greetings, Earth-clan.", the ambassador wheezed at me, his tone clearly unhappy, but not rude. "You must have friends *wheeze* in high places, to be able to *wheeze* get an appointment so quickly.".
"Indeed, Irune-clan.", I replied curtly, not elaborating.
"What is it *wheeze* that you want from me?", he inquired.
"It's not much about what I want, but what I can get you.", I boldly declared. "Long story short, I want to help your people receive what you have been wanting for the last hundred years or so: recognition enough to be able to get a seat on the Council.".
He stopped for a moment. Apparently, I had surprised him. The truth, however, was that, if it wasn't for the fact that we need all the strength we could get to fight the Reapers "conveniently", I might not even have bothered coming here.
"Why would you *wheeze* care to begin with?", he inquired cautiously.
"You don't need to mistrust my intentions. As one of the goals of my career going forward, my wish is to help humans integrate well with the galactic community. Securing friends for humanity is one way to achieve that. And I know that the Systems Alliance, at least as it is right now, can't do it.", I gave him a justification. "Really, you should see the guy they are thinking of selecting to replace ambassador Anita Goyle. He's an idiot. As an ambassador, I personally think they purposely trained him wrong, as a joke.".
Yup, that was Udina I was talking about. He hadn't started his "career" as ambassador yet, to the good of all the galaxy.
"But how would you *wheeze* do that?", he then asked, sitting more upright, and inquired, his tone filled with suspicion. "If we haven't been able to *wheeze* secure a Seat on the Council ourselves, *wheeze* how would someone from a new race *wheeze* such as yourself believe that *wheeze* they are able to help us?".
"By giving you perspective.", I replied calmly. "You see, one big misconception that you have right now is that, since the volus single handed helped create and unify the galactic economy everyone relies on, you believe this would be enough to earn your people the respect and position required to earn that oh-so-coveted spot in the Council chambers.", I gestured casually around the office. "Clearly, that isn't the case. Such a monumental feat wasn't even enough to get your own office.".
An odd grunting came from Korlack. "And how *wheeze* do you think we would be able to *wheeze* alter that situation?". His question sounded skeptical, but there was a tone of genuine curiosity there as well.
"The first problem that you're facing is that, technically speaking, your people aren't even an 'associate race' of the Citadel, not really.", I asserted.
He tilted his head in what I assumed was a gesture of confusion and demanded: "What are you *wheeze* talking about? Of course we are! *wheeze* We have been for centuries…".
"No.", I interrupted. "You have been a 'client' race of the turians for centuries, while they, in turn, have been a Citadel Race. The truth is that the volus are hiding behind the turians as their subjugated race and, therefore, have not even been able to see that they are actually more than two steps away from ever gaining a Council Seat.".
"Our association *wheeze* with the Turians has been nothing *wheeze* but beneficial for the Volus…", he tried to defend, but I interjected again.
"Has it?", I asked intently, leaning forward. "Oh sure, you haven't needed to worry about building up your own fleets and wasting precious credits that could've been used on other investments, but that has left you in a position even worse than the batarians. You have access to the Citadel and some of the benefits that it provides, but your achievements are overlooked because you're not even in charge of yourselves. The turians are your rulers, as can be seen from their blatant disrespect of your patents and inventions, appropriating them without payment or permission. Ha, it's almost the political version of slavery.".
He jerked in his seat and put his hands on the desk to steady himself. And the increased wheezing from his filter told me that I was getting through to him.
"Achieving the prerequisites of a Council Seat isn't actually that hard once you know and follow the many requirements whilst having figured out the overall scheme created by the asari and salarians back during its founding.", I casually declared, staring at his faceplate, and continued. "The first step for the volus is to go from 'client' race to a proper 'associate' race of the Citadel. If you don't make yourselves independent from the turians, then your Council Seat will always be denied with the justification that it'd mean the Hierarchy would effectively get two Seats/Votes. The second step is to get a few lawyers together, maybe even a few human ones, if you are feeling especially spiteful, and do a thorough investigation of the whole 'ascension process', making sure that your people are following the 'steps' listed perfectly. The third step is realizing one simple truth: the whole 'ascension process' is one big pile of varren-dung. At the end of the day, it's all about one thing and one thing only: military force, which translates to hard power. This means that you have to start building up your fleet.". Pausing a bit, I remembered a tidbit about Kwunu. "How many dreadnoughts do the volus have right now?".
"…zero.", he said with an embarrassed tone.
"Well, you need to change that.", I stated, sighing. "The fourth and last step is to accept that the game was rigged from the start. It's an open scheme designed to never really be completed. By creating things such as the Treaty of Farixen, which limits the number of Dreadnoughts, the arbiters of space power, to a quantity favorable only to the 'Big Three', they maintain their military domination over the rest of the galactic community at the same time as they discourage anyone from building a strong military presence, since they are already 'keeping the peace'. That, and the fact they get to decide when some race has 'proven itself' by meeting completely arbitrary requirements, means they get to drag the 'ascension process' as much as they like, just like the situation of your race, which lasted for centuries. If you don't like it, what are you going to do? Threaten them with your pitiful or nonexistent fleets?".
"Earth-clan *wheeze*, that is n-", Din interrupted me, trying to deny it.
"So, I suggest you start taking a look at what the Systems Alliance has been doing.", I cut him off abruptly. "For instance, they've been building Carriers as an answer to that 'Treaty', which works as an effective alternative to Dreadnoughts. The Council can't really rewrite it just for the sake of the humans, unless they want to risk losing credibility and revealing the scheme. Humanity, either by cunning or by paranoia-driven luck, is moving in the correct direction to have a 'Seat' in maybe a little more than a decade not despite sidestepping the 'rules', but because of it!".
"Those are *wheeze* some serious, and dangerous, *wheeze* claims you are making, Earth-clan.", he told me in a low voice. I just smiled in response. Nothing I said would ever leave this place due to a hidden "jammer". And I had made sure that there were no bugs when arriving, thanks to a new Omni-tool given to me by Mordin.
"You know, your bombing fleet is quite nice.", I continued, complimenting for a change, in case he got too depressed. "However, you don't have soldiers anywhere near on par with the drell or even the quarians. That means a placement in the Spectres is highly unlikely, as the Council agents need to be highly combat efficient. While you helped the galactic economy, you are certainly not the largest. The asari beat everyone by a large margin. However, with a few new Dreadnoughts and the Cruisers and Frigates that'd go along with those capital ships, I estimate that you'd need to build a couple of hundred warships more before you start getting respected as a military power. Not only does it show that you are willing to look after and protect yourselves, it also means that you would be able to show that you are willing to take responsibility to aid in the stability of the galaxy. By having the forces available to assist in time of a crisis, you would be showing that you are not just a race that would cry for help, but one that is able to help those who are also crying for aid.", I stated, taking a deep breath and deciding to finish my long with some enticement. "So, to summarize: if you want to get your people a place on the Council, you need a massive military expansion and, while that is happening, strive to stop being the vassals, I mean, clients of the turians, while copying what the Alliance is doing. All in all, I would say that, if you put your minds and your money into it, you could be on the Council in about fifteen, maybe twenty years.".
Honestly, I didn't care if the Volus managed to get a seat on the Council. The only thing that I wanted was for them to boost their military.
"Your ideas… *wheeze* may have some merit.", Din Korlack conceded. "Perhaps we have been *wheeze* thinking about this the wrong way. *wheeze* We had hoped that our contributions *wheeze* to the galactic economy would be enough *wheeze* to get a place on the Council, *wheeze* but we have seen time and again *wheeze* that this wasn't the case. Maybe *wheeze* your perspective will help us to *wheeze* remove any other possible objections *wheeze* that the Council is using to *wheeze* deny us a place. And *wheeze*, as much as I hate to admit it *wheeze*, we will likely need to *wheeze* distance ourselves from our *wheeze* turian friends if we are to *wheeze* stand on our own.".
"You don't really have to distance yourselves from them.", I said to him. "By continuing to help their economy for a certain 'price' and having joint fleet operations, you can maintain your relationships with the turians. Many will even applaud the help.".
"It just pains me *wheeze* to think that a human of all people *wheeze* came up with this.", he admitted in a depressed tone.
"What do you mean? I was never here.", I hinted with a crafty grin, while a sneaky Omni-tool cyberwarfare program deleted any logs pertaining to myself from his computers. "In fact, all the credit for this revolutionary perspective will go to you, who might go down in history as the man that promoted your people to a place on the Council. Only the leaders of the Volus will hear some whispers of a passing human that gave some advice. Just remember that when you make business with humanity in the future. That's all. As for my last advice, be very, very quiet about any plans. It wouldn't be beyond the turians, or the Council itself, to make a few... unruly upstarts disappear.".
"Thank you, *wheeze* though.", he insisted.
And, with that little side quest done, I went to settle the main business: my cultural invasion of Council space, courtesy of 21st century earthlings. Using some of the funds I'd earned from planet Veles' information (many records and artifacts of the Krogan Rebellions were recovered and sold at an auction), I bought the rights to "republish" a lot of "old" movies, games and music whose copyrights had expired, even some anime – and at dirt cheap, no less. This, I found out, was one of the better timelines, because both Disney and EA had been broken up a long time ago due to monopoly practices. Thus, it was free real estate! Besides that, Sha'ira also recommended some people for me to hire and guaranteed their integrity, which was necessary, since I'd leave them to manage a lot of things.
Before things could really get "rolling", and borrowing yet another idea from the fanfic "Plan for the Galaxy", I decided to pay some critics from every single race, except the vorcha, who had none, and the batarians (because we humans are all racists!), to go on a 2-week long marathon of 21st century human media. There actually were, and you would not believe this, even a few krogan reviewers.
However, my "marathon" did not just have movies, but included games and music too. The employees, those endorsed by the Consort, would take care of the three groups of critics for the time being. I, of course, would not be lazy. This was just a "pilot" introduction to the business world and some other people would take the reins in the future, with me being more of a representative, but I took it seriously. So, with the help of a newly hired quarian that was on a pilgrimage, I set up a system to manage things remotely. After all, what's the point of high-tech if you need to be physically present to work, right? By the way, I thought about distributing the original Doom on the extranet, then I found out that it was already there. This version of humanity got at least one thing right!
The showing of the movies began with The Matrix, just to add that little bit of existential dread to the races of the galaxy. Overall, I tried to include a little bit of everything. When things developed better, I was even thinking of hiring some people to remaster/remake a few classics, perhaps even by having the races replace a few roles…
With everything done after a few days, we'd set off to deliver the first blow to Hades' Dogs.
Pragia, in the Dakka System, of the Nubian Expanse. Two days later.
Green was most of the color we could see from orbit. This jungle-planet was completely overrun and choked by hypergrown, industrially-mutated plant species. Whose fault was this? The batarians, proving their superiority to the "less intelligent" two-eyed races of the galaxy by ruining whatever colonization prospects this place ever had. Then, you add its relative isolation and the result is a planet serving as an occasional base of operations for drug-runners, weapons-smugglers, pirates, mercenaries, terrorists and intelligence agents seeking secrecy.
Our mission in this disaster zone was to rescue "Jack" and the other biotic kids. She had been born in 2161 CE on Eden Prime and kidnapped in 2165 CE, when she became the prime subject of the Teltin facility. So, for this mission, Thane had restocked our supplies, mostly food, during our stay at the Citadel.
"Found a facility in a remote location. Seems to be our target.", Thane informed us an hour after reaching the place. It had paid off using our new forces to scout ahead. At the same time as he spoke, he began maneuvering the ship towards our target.
It was just the three of us here, but I wasn't worried. This was, after all, Cerberus we were dealing with. They couldn't even tie their own bootlaces without something blowing up in their face. If they tried to find an "ultimate" cure for the human common cold, for example, they'd probably end up creating a zombie virus or necromorphs instead. And the number of guards expected was much lesser than the number of batarians we killed on Mindoir, so there's that too.
The only problem would be if they had a nuclear demolition charge under the facility, in an "asset denial" kind of move, or decided to use the kids as hostages/shields. However, the first situation never happened in canon and I doubted they'd go that far with the children, since, in theory, they could just try to kidnap the kids again after we rescued them. Plus, we certainly didn't look like "boy/girl scouts".
"We are close enough.", Samara suddenly said. She stood up, went straight for the airlock of the ship and opened it, jumping out, her body glowing as she wreathed herself in biotics. I looked at Thane and he just shook his head.
Touching down, we started making way for the facility, while Samara scouted ahead. I kept my suit filters closed to avoid allergic reactions to the crazy, poisonous plants everywhere. It didn't take long for us to reach the place, as a heavy gate stopped our path.
Samara summoned a singularity at the closed gate and, with the same movement, pulled it back as Thane warped it. The interaction between the two biotic powers was nothing short of spectacular, with the obstruction being torn apart and smashed to smithereens.
"Stop!", shouted a Cerberus grunt, who I quickly killed with four rapid trigger pulls.
And, just like that, the fight started, the guards' weapons bouncing harmlessly on one of the strongest biotic barriers in the galaxy. Samara didn't even bother with a weapon, just biotically tearing a huge section of the ceiling, which promptly crashed on top of some of our assailants.
Thane didn't have many opportunities to get up close and personal, having to use his new and modified SMG, and the one-shot-one-kill sniper rifle. Poor guy. Do you know who else was having it bad? Anyone who was on the other side of his scope.
One of the guards tried to dive into cover on the first sniper shot only to have his head turn into a splatter, as the unremarkable weapon in Thane's hand fired shaved off slugs at such velocities that plasma generation was a real concern, hitting their targets like an anti-material rifle. Even shotguns used on Tuchanka to hunt Thresher Maws might not be as deadly as this gravity-based sniper when it was switched to "enhanced mode".
Still, I couldn't fall behind. So, with the reliable Mattock in hand, I rushed closer to Samara and dropped into cover, rapid firing at the assembled grunts with a mix of "normal" shots and a few "enhanced" trigger pulls here and there, for those guys that actually had decent suits of armor. Paradoxically, however, they were the ones that went down faster, since the other guys would get shot with slugs "merely" twice as powerful as normal.
Alarms were blaring overhead and a surprising number of Cerberus guards were coming from everywhere. Even with the three of us, I was forced to slow down a bit. There was no open space here to make use of maneuverability, like we had in the colony, only a maze of hallways. Therefore, I let my shields relax a little and took a deep breath. Continuing on, we reached a place with a door on the far side, which had opened to a sort of loading bay, large containers visibly stacked at the back. That was where we caught a glimpse of the first kidnapped child: small, thin… too thin. That kid was at death's door.
Samara had gotten a glimpse of the child as well and the response was immediate. The Justicar, of course, was the one who jumped in first. She shouted as torrents of blue power swirled violently around her, releasing it all towards the approaching grunts, crates and all sorts of paraphernalia, throwing them aside as she rushed through.
There was one guard trying to drag the kid away. He shouted something about evacuation protocols when we got close, but it did him no good. He was pulled back by Samara at breakneck speed, hitting a beam with a loud crunch and falling to the ground like a broken doll. For good measure, I double tapped him in the head.
The kid recoiled in horror at the brutal scene, but our Justicar didn't seem to mind. She lowered herself to one knee and slowly reached up with one hand, completely ignoring the alarms blaring everywhere. We knew that, any minute now, more guards would probably come, but they wouldn't do any better.
I walked past her to take a position at the opposite door, managing to see activity in the distance. A group of Cerberus grunts was coming, but they didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. Couldn't blame them, though. Everyone else that came after us was very, very dead.
Taking a glance back, I saw the kid finally reaching for the offered hand.
"It will be alright. You are safe now.", she said.
The kid hesitated, looking at the Justicar with a mix of fear and awe.
"What's your name, little one?", Samara asked.
"A-Aresh.", he replied.
"Alright, Aresh. Can you help us by gathering the others?", she asked and made him an offer. "We'll take you away from this awful place to the Alliance, where you will be free.".
"I… I can do it!", he accepted with fake bravado.
With their conversation ending, the guards had finally gathered their courage to reach us. As a courtesy greeting, I threw a very nasty flash grenade at the front of the group, raised my Mattock, pulled the trigger four times with "enhanced mode", and killed two Cerberus Commandos, switching to my pistol while my arm recuperated from the recoil. Samara just released any restraints she might've still had until now, while Thane took over some of my share of the fight as my arm stopped hurting.
"They don't deserve a good and fair fight.", she declared as her biotics flared so brightly we almost had to squint, using gravity to repulse a tremendously heavy crate used as cover by half of the still-not-dead guards. It dragged them with it until everything crashed on the opposite wall with a wet, splattering crunch sound. There was so much blood there, almost like it was straight out of a horror movie.
The Justicar herself just radiated cold anger and hatred. It was kinda scary, but satisfying enough to see the guards running away in terror. Those that didn't get caught in that blast were treated to my assault rifle, now having vented its waste heat, feeling like they got a better deal than the other guys, probably.
Soon after, the facility had opened up to a sort of atrium, but it was starting to look rather deserted. Some guards at the back were taking potshots at us, but it didn't look like they had particularly powerful firearms. No, there was nothing here even close to what we were packing, since all they needed was gear to suppress kids or your average merc. I'd drop behind cover and, without having to worry about overheating, rapidly press the trigger as fast as was needed to kill an enemy, before dropping back to cover. Far behind us, the kid was following.
After all that mayhem, we finally started reaching the "core" of the facility. A door opened to a corridor with doors lined up to the sides. Looking at the first one, I felt something turn in my stomach. The girl inside looked emaciated and dirty, as if she had not taken a bath in weeks. I could even smell it from the outside. She was curled up on the ground, not really doing anything. She had her eyes open wide, fixed at a point somewhere in the distance, and wasn't even moving. One could only tell she was alive because she was breathing.
My blood began boiling with so much raw anger that I was having trouble keeping calm. In fact, I wished to just rip and tear every single Cerberus bastard in the place. This was sick, sick beyond anything. It's one thing to know about it, but another to see the reality like that.
"We'll come back for them once we clear this place.", Thane snapped me out of it.
I nodded at him and continued going with him. Samara had pulled ahead, walking through the corridor of cells like they weren't there. However, I could tell she was also very angry. Later on, I'd found out that she had brought down a shuttle trying to escape with some kids with her biotics alone. Thane and I only saw her handiwork, such as one unlucky bastard being pasted against the wall like it was some Chaos worshiper painting.
Eventually, a place we reached looked like a medical center. There were no real guards in here anymore, just some "doctors" or, more correctly, deranged scientists trying to upload their "experiments". It seemed to be a very large medbay for such a small facility, until we realized it wasn't exactly a medical facility, because there were body bags on one side. Small body bags, to be exact, all piled up way too high. Fuck! I didn't even think about it when I switched firing mode and started shooting the so-called "doctors". Their pleas of mercy just drove more over the edge.
"Those kids probably begged for mercy too, you scum! You'll get the same quantity of it you gave them. None!", I said to them, finger on the trigger.
Just like that, six new corpses joined the ground. I didn't even mind the pain. There wasn't much left to kill. Most of the guards had thrown themselves at us already. Anyone that ran away would have to deal with the deadly jungle. Those still left were simple "doctors". And Samara made sure to "disable" all other shuttles. So, from that point forward, it was just a series of killing the adults, getting the kids to join Aresh behind us and moving on to the next door. That was so until a huge biotic pulse hit me. It was… raw, painful and angry. We turned a corner to find an unexpected sight.
A girl, nine years old, maybe ten, with a shaved head, big dark eyes and a rounded face... She was glowing with biotic power, yelling and throwing attack after attack at Samara. The Justicar didn't move; just stood there, her barrier taking all the hits without a blink. The girl was very angry, raw animal instinct guiding her attacks, then her emotions slowly switched from concern, to worry, to fear and ended with panic. That was because nothing she was doing was having any effect on the blue woman in front of her. So, she fell to her knees in exhaustion, tears running down her face. Samara took one step and the girl recoiled in horror, crawling back on her bum until she hit the corner.
"There's no need for fear, little one. You cannot harm me and I will not harm you.", Samara said in a soothing voice.
"Stay away!", the little girl shouted.
"I am here to take you away from this horrible place. Away from your captors.", the Justicar returned. The little girl looked at her like she didn't understand. When Samara took another step, she tried to recoil again, but there was no more space behind her. Thus, the Justicar kept walking slowly, each step with a sense of power behind it.
"They will never harm you again.", she promised, kneeling in front of the girl.
"It is time to go, young one.", she offered her hand and waited patiently, for what seemed like an eternity, stoic as if she had been carved in stone. Eventually, the little girl relented, slowly reaching for the offered hand. When they touched, a small smile appeared on the Justicar's face.
"My name is Samara, a servant of the Justicar Code. What is yours?", she asked.
"J-Jack.", the girl stammered. With the confirmation, there was something I had to do...
"No, kid. Your real name is Jennifer.", I firmly stated, interrupting them. "Don't let those Cerberus trash take even that from you.".
It was only then that she finally noticed Thane and I, looking at us with a scared, but also fascinated expression.
"W-who are you?", Jennifer asked.
"I am Commander Samael. And we are Hell's Angels.", I replied, remembering and old saying. "Come with us. We have cookies.".
IN SPAAAAACE. Later.
"Unidentified vessel, this is Arcturus Station Control.", came a voice through our ship's comms. "Transmit your codes and state your purpose or prepared to be boarded.".
"Arcturus Control, this is the CSV Lightbringer, of the PMC Hell's Angels.", I replied back. "We have with us dozens of rescued biotics kids to deliver and would very much appreciate it if you didn't scare them more than the terrorists who kidnapped them already did.".
"W-what!?", answered the station controller. "Wait a minute, Lightbringer, I'll coordenate with my superiors to settle the situation.".
"No problem for me, but I wouldn't take too long if I were you.", I answered and sent real-time images of the emaciated kids. "The little ones need medical attention ASAP.".
Author's Notes: Now we're back to our regular schedule of getting stuff done. Things will pick up pace with time, especially after the initial setup, to a point where a Chapter will span an entire year. I've got things pretty much done until Chapter 8, but the rework had been affected by adjusting my google docs files to this website and responding to Reviews, which slowed down my own writing. So, I'm thinking of catching a break (no more new chapter each day) after that chapter hits, finishing some real life work, getting more feedback, perhaps even more ideas on what to do. After all, even in the canon timeline, there's a jump from 2178 CE to 2183 CE where "nothing happened". I'll probably fill those up just with the required meetings, alliances, plans and some results of all the changes we'd been making, enough so that my readers will know where "this and that" came from. I REALLY want to reach the ME1, where the most of the fun and original parts of my story will take place, but I don't want to get there without having shown enough of our cards to even prove how possible/plausable the stuff I'll do really is.
Mindoir could've actually gone a different way. I could've written a super competent Systems Alliance that shows up well on time, while the population hides in well-built shelters, but not only would that go against the lore, in which one of the biggest complaints is that the SA's doctrine makes them always reinforce a place when it's too late, it would also make for a boring chapter. Think about it: we go there, the slavers are routed in space, maybe only a few raiders land and are easily ripped apart by the marines (with or without our help), then we leave. So, boring. And this wouldn't change much, since we'd still get fame after Teltin and could've come up with another way to influence Shepard into joining the Alliance. Thus, I put some tension there, with a showcase of the difference that switching from electromagnetism to gravity based acceleration could make even as "Hack job". Also, to set up an initial feel of Shepard: kicking ass even at age.
So, now that Reviews are back from that weird issue, I'm just passing by to say that I've made some slight changes (flight control dialogue, MC introduction line and comments about Shepard, which are meant to show she's more realistic/in line with an N7 special forces soldier).