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Beta(s) :
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Requested by :
Espacole
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I'm sure all of you have noticed, I am redesigning mission layouts as I go. I could pose many reasons for this, logically, in the story.
Instead, I will be frank -
Memorizing the map layouts and following them to a 'T' seems rather boring, for me and you all alike. Instead, I will tweak them, adapting them as I like for brevity, clarity and quality.
As always, enjoy~!
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Several bursts of low-power rounds scattered off of her shield as ashe slid into the path of the two Loki's fire and then slid to the side and out of the way of the thundering Krogan charge. The two machines only managed a couple more shots before Grunt slammed shoulder-first into them and carried them clear into the annex that adjoined the entry-way. The Krogan left the two machines crumpled and embedded in the wall and turned with a wide, feral grin and a rumbling laugh.
She rolled her eyes, but her smile died when she heard the ragged hack and, "P-Please…"
Zaeed was at the Salarian's side before she could even speak, kneeling and pressing a capsule of Medi-Gel into the bullet wound. While it worked, he murmured, "Easy, you bug-eyed shit. Regular breathin' 'til the drugs kick in. Ey?"
"T-T-Thank-"
"Save your breath, you only got one lung." The Salarian grimaced and nodded, coughing wetly, and Zaeed slid a hand under his arms. "Gonna get you outta the way - gotta go save your scaly friends."
The Salarian groaned as Zaeed leaned him against the wall, and then latched onto Zaeed's arm and hissed, "N-Nassana did this. K-Kill her!"
"We'll get it sorted." The old man nodded and pulled free, pressing the worker's hand back against his chest. "Hold here. Pressure'll help the Medi-gel keep your blood where it belongs, an' you'll be back to snapping up flies in no time."
"A-Asshole…"
"Yeah, but it made ya feel better. Ey?" The mercenary sighed and stood, turned back to them and froze. Slowly bringing his rifle around, he grunted, "Fuck y'all lookin' at? I got some slime on me or somethin'?"
"Y-Yes, you do." Pyrrha stammered and pointed at his knee, where a splash of green blood ran down his shin in long lines of ever-green. "But that is not the-"
"Don't say it!" Zaeed snapped, slamming a fist into the button and watching the doors with hard eyes. "I'm a merc, and yeah, I'd leave 'im to bleed out if time was pressin'. Doesn't mean I ain't got no conscience at all, though. Helpin' the scaly git ain't hurt nothin'."
The elevator door dinged open and Grunt shouldered past the man to get in first and growled, "Soft old man."
"I will fuckin' pop your head off."
"Try it."
"I got me knife right here." Zaeed snapped, stepping in with Pyrrha on his tail. "I'll clean it off and serve your fuckin' nuts to ya on your crest."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Oh you wanna bet?" Zaeed snapped back as the doors closed, "How many nuts then?"
"Try it."
"I know you were born last week, but you're awful fuckin' dumb-"
"The back of the elevator is made of glass." Pyrrha noted quietly, but just loudly enough they both could hear her. Smiling as the elevator rose, she wondered aloud, "I do wonder how sturdy it is, though. Ah, but if only I had a large volunteer to find out. Neither of you would know of anyone willing, would you?"
"Got it, boss."
"Understood, Battlemaster."
The elevator opened up on a mostly finished walkway with two offices to either side, a tall window-wall at the end, and a mercenary talking to himself and staring out at the city. She waved for her team to linger behind and stalked towards the mercenary's back. He was inattentive to say the least, and she didn't have any trouble getting close to him.
"Yeah, I got it. I'll handle it personally." He sighed and flinched when she tapped her sword against his shoulder. When he spun, he flicked a look from her to the two lingering beside the elevator and murmured, "Mother fucker… The hell did you come from?"
"Downstairs." She tapped his shoulder and urged him to turn around. He did, raising his hands to show they were empty, and Pyrrha asked, "You were going to handle us?"
"Uh, actually no?" Slowly, carefully, he pointed at the two doors to either side of the elevator and said, "I was going to go in there, and down with my team. Motion sensors are tripping all over the damn building, and my bitch of a boss wants us to check 'em all."
"Why?"
"She expects assassins in every damn door, office and goddamn fridge." He shrugged, "I'm just here to get paid, lady. And I watch the vids."
"So?"
"So," he shrugged, "I can hit one button, disable motion sensors on the floors above and below. I do that, she sends people to those floors and you can avoid 'em while they clear 'em."
"And you walk?"
"Yes?" He nodded and shrugged, "That, uh, would be nice, yeah. I would definitely like to walk off the job right about now."
"And go where, exactly?"
"Home, to pack." He shrugged, "Then… I don't know, Eden Prime? Uncle has a standing security gig out there. Doesn't pay like this. And no beautiful blue women, but… No crazy blue women either."
"Get out of here." Pyrrha jerked her head towards the elevator, "If you come back, I'll strip you out of that armor and hand you to my Krogan."
"Come back." The young Krogan rumbled, voice carrying lowly across the still air behind her. "I'm gettin' hungry."
"I'm… Gonna just ignore that and go, thanks, lady." The mercenary bobbed his head, slipped by her two squad-mates, and punched a button that sent the glass box down without another word.
"Should 'ave killed 'im." Zaeed grumbled when they regrouped, "Could cause us trouble."
"If he does, we will deal with it. But I will never shy from mercy for fear, Zaeed. Death will come first." For a second time, she left unsaid. Turning for the two doors she grunted, "Come. There's plenty of mercenaries for you both to kill ahead, worry not over your one lost fish."
"Battlemaster."
"Red."
There were doors to either side of the elevator, which stood in the center of the wall dividing this area from the one beyond. With a jerk of her head, she sent her men to the right entrance while Pyrrha herself turned for the other. Beyond the door was a long, wide and tall room with half-built offices dotted to either side and piles of wood, glass and steel construction supplies dotting the path forward. A line of Loki security droids stood against one wall, inactive until she stepped through the door and a quiet alarm chimed. Then they whirred and straightened, drawing Shuriken pistols and turning towards Pyrrha as she moved forward.
As they blurted their orders and demands, Pyrrha turned on a heel and hurled her shield off to the side. Then she grasped it with her Semblance and turned, using it like a great discus to carve through the line of machines at the neck. As they fell, blurting loudly, she turned and ignored their explosions.
More important was the quartet of mercenaries that suddenly surged out of one of the offices, raising their weapons as they came. Two fell to accurate bursts of rifle fire that caught them at the throats, while the other two turned as Grunt roared and charged. Their fire glanced off his armor as he came, hurling aside a concrete column laid in his path, waiting to be fitted into place. Then one turned to flee while the other fumbled for a thermal clip - she hit the wall beside her with a meaty thwack and fell beneath the flash of bright scarlet in a limp and broken pile.
The young Krogan grabbed the runner by the neck, turned and slammed a fist into him with enough for to crack the front of his helmet.
As Pyrrha approached the Krogan dropped the mercenary, turned and huffed roughly, "Don't think I killed 'im."
"Pussy."
"Good boy." Pyrrha smiled, reaching up to pat the Krogan on the shoulder.
He leaned into it but she turned as a rifle cracked loudly. The heavy round glanced off her shield as she stepped forward to shield the Krogan from the second marksman's shot and Zaeed's Vindicator snapped up. It cracked in two bursts and Pyrrha watched both shooters collapse back behind the stacks of metal reinforcement they'd stood up from behind. More came, though - teams emerging from unfinished offices like they'd been dorming there and taking position behind the stacked building supplies.
Zaeed swore and stepped to the side, into the office the first team had come out of, and Grunt joined him - strong hands grasping either side of Pyrrha's hips to lift her up and carry her into cover.
He set her down unceremoniously and slid to the corner, drawing his Avenger as he did and shoving it around the corner to spray automatic fire meant solely to keep them from advancing.
"Red," Zaeed grunted, "you're the lead here. Orders?"
"I-I don't…" She blinked and turned, watching enough automatic fire to even perturb Grunt - or her - for its sheer volume. Then she turned back to him, "I don't know, I'm not- I've never lead before."
"Course not." He sighed and shook his head, turning and moving to a door in the corner - or a place where the panels hadn't been installed, it was hard to tell. He poked his head around the corner for a split second, then ducked back and swore as fire ripped through the air. "We're fucked. We could make a run, but the elevator has a clear sightline from where they're campin'."
"I-I-"
"Battlemaster," Grunt turned and looked over his shoulder, pointing the head of his rifle at a corner across from them which would offer little cover, "I will charge out, across the opening for that corner. They'll focus on me. Zaeed can pick off their heavier guns and you rush through the middle, fast as you can."
"You can survive that?"
"I'm Krogan." He huffed and turned away, "Command is all about knowing your team. We're sturdy, let us charge. He's a decent shot for a blind old fuck-"
"Suck a dick."
"-and you can throttle anyone that you get into melee with." Grunt finished, rumbling a laugh as he leaned around the corner and let loose another burst. This time it somehow found someone, judging from the shout and the cry for medi-gel. When he returned he added, finally, "Okeer put it all in my head. It's yours."
"Alright." She sighed and stepped up to his side, "Go."
Roaring, Grunt stepped out of cover and raised his rifle, strafing to the side as he sent out short bursts of rounds. Hundreds more answered him, ripping through his barriers and carving long furrows in his armor. Orange blood splashed across the grey floor as his rifle whined and he turned, leaping the last few feet and slamming into the corner with enough force to crack the concrete.
Behind her, she heard Zaeed's rifle fire, long bursts lancing out at targets she couldn't see, and Pyrrha took a breath.
Then she stepped around the corner and sprinted, head down and shield raised over it. Fire bounced off of it and her shins, glancing off her kinetic barriers until they failed and then stinging across her Aura or glancing off her armor. Finally she leapt up onto a concrete pillar like the one Grunt had hurled through the air earlier and brought her spear out to the side.
Her heels landed on one man's chest and she bore him down through sheer weight, turning on top of him and carving through the light machine gun bearing woman beside him's throat. She fell, choking, and Pyrrha suppressed her bile to pivot and crack the other across the side of his helmet with her shield. As he fell she sank to a knee and brought her shield down, shattering the struggling man under her's visor in the same motion she took cover from the incoming rifle fire.
The rounds sparked and glanced off of her shield until they paused and she stood, charging at top speed. A Turian stepped forward to meet her, abandoning his Mattock and flashing long, sharp talons. She ducked his first swipe and brought her shield around and into his arm-pit, knocking him to the side and off balance. The she surged forward and down, taking him at the sides of his knees and driving him to the floor as her spear spun in her hand, shifting from polearm to rifle.
One shot into the side of his leg kept him down and she rose, snapping another pair into the knee of a woman charging with a shotgun in hand. She stumbled as she reached Pyrrha and the Mistralian brought her knee up to check her in the chin, sending her sprawling, legs flailing, to the ground. She cracked a shot into the woman's shotgun and turned as more mercenaries stepped out from out-flanked cover to face her.
"I! Am! Krogan!" Grunt bellowed as he charged past her and bowled into the advancing firing line.
He scooped them up in both outstretched arms and bore them into a wall, cracking the concrete and turning as the lot of them sagged. The last pair turned to run as she rose and two bursts of fire cracked through the air, carving into each of their backs and sending them tumbling to rest in front of the elevator. She took a moment to flick a look around her for more enemies before turning a look to the woman whose throat she'd cut.
Zaeed was kneeling beside her and looked up to shake his head.
Pyrrha frowned but pushed it aside.
All to the best ends…
"Forward." She ordered, pointing at a ramp leading up, "We have an assassin to find."
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Tracking the interlopers was more than easy - considering the Krogan saw fit to announce his presence on more than one occasion as they climbed the tower - but for what it lacked in challenge it made up for it in intrigue. The three were power houses, and made a showing of it in each engagement. At range or in close, they made short work of the hapless mercenaries sent out to meet them. And then in turn made short work of those same mercenaries' commanders when they finally came out to try and settle the problem.
All were lethal readily enough, but…
Twice the red-haired woman had turned to check the fallen, hoping for someone wounded gravely to yet live. The old mercenary was always there, already checking - seemingly for her sake rather than his own interest. Even the Krogan aimed, where able, to cripple, maim or disable where he could…
Fascinating.
He turned as they slipped out of view, stepping out onto the great walkway that spanned between the two towers. He frowned at the sounds of fire and explosions, as well as the trails of rockets spinning off to either side of the bridge, but accepted it and slid into the ventilation ducts once more.
They were certainly closer to his target, but they also had three dozen mercenaries, a Krogan battlemaster, and sentries to get by.
He merely had a few tight corners.
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The Krogan Battlemaster's fist ripped through the air with a Biotic crackle and shattered the support column Pyrrha had been in front of. He snarled and followed her as she backed away, dodging one electric-wreathed fist and deflecting another off her shield as she withdrew. The wind buffeted her but she only kept withdrawing, past her team-mates who paid them barely any mind as she went out, into the true open of the bridge.
Where the wind threatened to rip her away and send her reeling to return to her Dark Lord.
"Weak!" The Krogan roared as she caught a blow on her shield and sank to a knee. Glaring down on her with scarlet eyes, the massive alien bared his teeth to make clear his desire to put her in the ground.
It felt like home…
"Clever." She corrected him with a smirk, angling her shield suddenly and off-balancing him. He stumbled only a step, but that was long enough for her to surge up and slam her shoulder into his breastplate.
He bellowed and shoved her away towards the edge, but she reached out with her Semblance and caught herself with his armor.
Then she grit her teeth and charged, slamming her shield into him like a battering ram with every ounce of force in her Aura-enhanced muscles. They screamed as she met him, and she felt her shoulders and chest throb with a hundred tiny cracks as her body took the blow she inflicted on it, but the Krogan staggered from the force.
And then she pushed with her Semblance and his eyes widened as one foot met air. His arms flailed and he fell, screaming for the second she could hear it over the wind.
Body aflame, she sank to her knees with her shield raised towards what enemies were left and focused her Aura on her many tiny injuries. It took a long moment, but her pains faded quickly.
And as she rose, she found silence.
The fighting had ended…
Several of the mercenaries were both alive and conscious when she reached the door to the woman's office. All were on their knees, though, hands held high in the air while Zaeed glowered down at them.
"I got 'em." Zaeed grunted quietly, bobbing his head towards the door, "Your Krogan went in there when we heard gunshots and some screamin'."
"I, uh, understand." She nodded and then put on her firmest face, playing the part Kasumi had taught her, "The Krogan is dealt with. If any of them resist you, throw half of them off the bridge."
"Got it, Boss." Zaeed grinned toothily, and by the Brothers she hoped that was meant to be a knowing, cheeky smile instead of an eager one...
Inside, the office was circular and warmly lit, dominated by a massive desk and backed by an equally massive window. It offered a brilliant view of the Ilium skyline. A pair of inactive security turrets hung limp to either side of the window, hanging undamaged off of their mountings. Grunt stood to one side of the door, arms crossed and face unamused.
And, in the center of the room stood a man, praying over the body of a dead woman.
She kept her peace and let him be until he smiled and opened black eyes to say, "It appears I have reached your target before you."
"Actually," Pyrrha said, "you're my target."
"I see." His hands fell to his sides and Pyrrha lowered her spear and spread her shield to the side to open herself up to him - a gesture of non-violence he understood judging by his smile. "Ah, I see… Not that manner of target then."
"No." She confirmed, "We need your help, actually. The Collectors are abducting thousands of colonists, and I'm part of a team dedicated to stopping them."
"That sounds like a war." The Drell murmured, voice sonorous and warm in a way Pyrrha could scarcely describe. "An assassin is hardly suited to fighting a war."
"People far more adept at understanding such things disagree."
"I see… I suppose such is a fair point." Krios hummed, pausing for a moment in thought before noting almost off-handedly, "I observed you as you made your way up to this office, you know."
"Oh…?"
"Indeed." He nodded and turned to face the window. After a long, quiet moment, he said, "I have left much darkness in this world. Taken many lives. Hurt even more… How many colonists have the Collectors taken?"
"Thousands."
"That will do, I think." He hummed, "I am dying, you see. And I would like to atone. Saving your colonists… That will do nicely, I should think."
"I… Have an idea that you're right." Pyrrha smiled, "And if you don't mind, I… May put in a good word for you with my own Lord."
"What harm can it do?" The Drell smiled and bowed his head, "I would be most grateful to draw the eyes of a god one so merciful as you would devote herself to."
She only nodded.
Something told her that the Drell would... Need some time to understand the Dark Brother if they ever met.
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The Prime Cronos :
There will be more, in time.
Foxcomm :
Do remember that ME's gods were stated earlier to be very passive - they like to watch the drama unfold.
G119 :
'Fuckin' red-haired bitch' he said warmly and full of love and all of the soft.