Vanguard of Vengeance Chapter 3


"Does your species have no tongue?" the alien spoke again in its deep, flanged tones. "Speak! Why have you come here?"

Shepard, weak from the running combat above ground and below it, from her wounds and from overstrained biotics, could only stare at the hostile warrior. Shepard was no stranger to alien species; she had met many species during her stint with the Alliance Marines. She'd killed more than her fair share on battlefields near and far. But she had never seen something quite so alien as this figure, though even in him there was a strange familiarity. In his layered lacquered armour, he would have looked comfortable swinging a sword around on the battlefields of feudal Japan, but that was where the similarities ended. The alien had a broad, flat face. Four double-pupiled eyes glared balefully from behind wide rimmed eyelids. His bifurcated lips curled, perhaps in disgust.

"There was an explosion, I fell…" Shepard's head was still fuzzy. She shook it to clear the ringing. The alien in the dark snapped into sharper focus. "The Beacon. I'm here for the beacon. The Geth blew it up."

"Your report is insufficient, the neural imprint was incomplete. Bring me to your Imperial Sadar, we will need to move quickly if we are to save my men." The alien spoke with the absolute certainty of command. "This beacon you speak of, it is of the Empire, yes? That is what brought the new Protheans here?"

That word… Prothean.

"You're a Prothean?" Shepard asked. The strange alien spun around.

"Of course, how could you not…" doubt filtered into the alien's voice for the first time. "Halt this nonsense at once. You will take me to the duly appointed representative of the Prothean Empire at once."

"The Prothean Empire's been extinct for fifty thousand years," Shepard responded, "I am Commander Shepard, Earth Systems Alliance Marines. We were investigating one of your beacons when the Geth attacked our colony here. They had a massive dreadnought with them, bigger than anything than I've ever seen before." Shepard's voice grew steadier as her thoughts flew back to her. The air wasn't so close here, and the strange, ever-present oily feeling lightened. "I'm afraid the beacon is gone, but if you really are a living Prothean…"

"Stop," the Prothean raised a hand, wide head canted, as if thoughtful, "You say these Geth came to this world in a massive dreadnought? What did it look like? Tell me!" he rounded on her, bringing himself to his full and rather impressive height.

"It looked, it looked like a massive hand, coming down out of the sky," Shepard held up her own hand, noticing that the alien only had the two fingers on each of his. Something changed in the Prothean's face, an emotion. It wasn't quite like fear, but something else, deeper. A complex mix of dread, anger, hatred that contorted the pale face. And something else too. Though Shepard had never seen a face as alien as this, somehow she was offered a brief glance at understanding. What she saw was hopelessness.

"Then the Empire has truly fallen, and the Reapers have come again. Return to your people, human. You are doomed." The alien turned away and drew his strange weapon. Slowly, he began to walk back the way Shepard had come, back into the ruins of his fallen empire.

"Wait a second," Shepard said roughly, "Hold on, I'm not finished with you yet. What are these Reapers? The one's flying around in that dreadnaught? Sure, they made a mess of one of our colonies, but against a fleet or two?"

"They are not in the dreadnaught," the alien brusquely said without turning to look at her, "they are the dreadnought, or at least, it is one of them. They are machines, older than stars, and the enemy of all sentient life. You may not know their name today, but soon you will scream it in desperation to the burnt skies of your worlds. If their vanguard is here, then my mission has failed."

"What mission? Are these the reason your empire was destroyed all those millennia ago?" Shepard limped after him.

"Mine and countless others. I was to be my people's Vengeance. The builder of a new Empire, stronger than that which came before. One prepared for the Reapers. But it is too late."

"You said this was their first wave, just a scout, right? Then why don't you help us? Shouldn't the 'Vengeance of the Protheans' be doing something a little more proactive than skulking in a cave?"

"Alone? This complex has fallen to the Corrupted. They have feasted on my brother warriors and broken the pods of those who would arm us. The Reapers toppled empires, and you would have me fight them with an array of primitives at my back?" Shepard lost a great deal of her cultivated cool. She snatched the warrior by his armoured cowl.

"Who are you calling primitives, you, you, coward!" she spat the final word in defiance, "When my people first encountered the aliens of this galaxy we fought a war they said couldn't be won, but here we are. We fought off long odds and a hefty technology gap, but we survived. I don't see how this is any different."

"Then you truly do not comprehend the power of the Reapers," He said stoically, "now unhand me." He shook off her grip and continued walking.

"I can't let you walk off and get yourself killed in this hole!" Shepard shouted after him, "I these Reapers are everything you describe, we're going to need you if we want a chance. I didn't get myself blown up out there to come home empty handed!"

"And I suppose you'll stop me?" the alien said, "you are in no fit shape to stop one of our younglings, let alone an Avatar." Shepard limped on after him, but internally, she knew he was right. After the fight, both above and below the surface, her body ached and groaned with every motion. By this point she was running almost purely on grit and adrenaline. And besides, the radiation from the blast alone would have her floating in the Tub for at least a week, soaking in the bio-active medigel.

"I'll have to try," Shepard responded, unsheathing her short blade. The alien did not notice, or did not deign to respond, only marching further into the complex. The oily sound was back, prying its way into Shepard's head and making her feel sick to her stomach. They reached the junction in which she'd had to fight her way past the monstrous insectoids. The alien stopped, looking to and fro. Shepard used the chance to catch up. If there was a way to disable him, maybe she could drag him back out of the hole. If not, his body might lend credence to her story at her debriefing, should she make it to one.

The alien turned unexpectedly. Shepard almost stumbled, dropping the knife.

"You did this?" the Prothean gestured with his head, "Alone?"

"Do you see anyone else in this corridor?" Shepard asked gamely. She swiped a drop of blood that had run down her face, sure to keep her blade between herself and the Prothean and her eyes latched to his.

"Perhaps your primitive race has some fight in it after all." He swept the ruinous remains of battle again before two pairs of eyes alighted once again on her face. "I will come with you. My duty demands I destroy the Reapers wherever I find them, and if that means joining my arms with yours I will do it. But here this, just because you have my respect does not mean you have me. If I am to submit to your forces, it is not as a captive."

"No arguments here, people fight better when their hands are untied." Shepard held both of hers up, knife turned sideways and loosely held.

"A most wise assessment," The alien said, "I am called Javik, Avatar of Vengeance and now First Pradhan of the Prothean Empire by right of survival."

"Lieutenant Commander Evangeline Shepard, Systems Alliance Marines." Shepard held out a hand. Javik took it in his own, two fingered grip. The two warriors shook hands. "Good," Shepard said as she pulled back, "Now I don't suppose you know a way out."


Captain David Anderson of the Alliance Navy stood under the hood of a full hazardous material suit. He hated the glaring yellow thing, a displeasure clearly written across every inch of his well-weathered face. But it was the only way his by the book XO, Charles Pressly, would allow him to go groundside. And with the now towering plume that still rose from what had once been Eden Prime's largest city and primary spaceport, Anderson supposed the thick rubberized suit was warranted. The blast from what had been identified as a Geth nuclear device had been surprisingly small given the yield, but the radiation cloud, that would spell doom for the entire settlement.

God, a whole colony nuked, a Geth attack, and the Alliance's leading Spectre candidate gone in the flash. Anderson pushed away angry memories and instead looked to the survivors of the mission. An erect and watchful turian, Nihlus, and a downtrodden looking Gunnery Chief from the local garrison. Both were already receiving radiation exposure treatment via thick IVs. The Chief, granddaughter of the infamous General Williams held her helmet clutched between her scuffed knee plates, balanced atop the barrel of a Lancer pattern assault rifle that had seen better days. Her gaze was cast downwards, her head resting on bent hands that reached up to clasp at her deep brown hair. She seemed to realize she was being watched, because she rose to a standing position and threw him a salute.

Sloppy, the Captain thought, but forgivable. He could forgive a slip in decorum after a tragedy of such a magnitude. The Chief's eyes widened, focus drawn to something over Anderson's shoulder. Anderson followed her gaze. Two figures limped from a fissure in the rock several meters away, one tall, obviously alien, the other shorter and clad in Alliance blue.

"Commander Shepard?" it was one of the sentries. The man raised his rifle, unsure what to do. The alien was carrying what could be a weapon, as well as supporting an obviously injured commander.

"Stand down," Shepard ordered, "he's with me."


Shepard recognized the man in the yellow hazmat suit the second he approached. She saluted as she caught the tired eyes set in the dark-skinned face half hidden behind the wide plastic hood.

"Captain Anderson, I'm afraid I have to report mission failure. My team was unable to secure the beacon." Shepard clung to protocol like a shield, knowing that facing the likely disapproving eyes of her CO and friend would be the final nail in the coffin. Anderson understood, only replying with a gruff, "Noted, Commander. Wherever you've been, it looks like you've had it rough."

"It's Hell down there, sir," Shepard reported, eyes flicking towards the fissure, "or at least as close I've seen since Torfan." A hand scratched at the scar tissue that rose just below the short clipped, coffee coloured hair just above her left ear self-consciously.

"It's not exactly the Pearly Gates up here, commander," the Captain put a hand on her back to gently guide her towards waiting medics, "What the hell happened, we lost contact after the drop."

"The Geth fought a delaying action almost from the very beginning, sir. They must have set the charges before we arrived. Whatever was on that beacon was worth glassing an entire settlement."

"Not quite a glassing, a shaped charge, more of a dirty bomb than a nuke. The damn thing took the beacon with it and rendered everything else uninhabitable," Anderson corrected, "You're saying you didn't get anything from the beacon?"

"No sir, but I may have gotten something better," Shepard turned to look at Javik. The alien stood at rest, though watchful of the marine sentries that now ringed him. Neither side made a move. "He says he's Prothean."

"No shit?" Chief Williams had joined the discussion, "That is, no shit, sir. But how can he be Prothean? Wouldn't that make him…"

"Fifty thousand years old," Nihlus completed, "seems unbelievable."

"When I found him he was sealed inside some kind of stasis pod," Shepard said.

"No stasis is that perfect," Williams said.

"Not that we know of," Nihlus added, "but perhaps the Protheans… Commander, while your mission was to secure the beacon, this perhaps may be a greater prize."

"The Prothean is in Alliance custody as of now," Anderson quickly said, nodding to one of his men to make a note. "I understand the deal with the Council was to share the beacon, but the beacon is gone now. Until further orders to the contrary, I'll retain responsibility over it." Nihlus said nothing, but it was obvious his mind was already formulating plans and preparing for future action.

"Him, sir," Shepard corrected, "and there's something else. When I woke him up… Sir, I think he knows what attacked us, and if it's even half as bad as he makes it out to be, the Council will need to hear him."

Anderson made a rough sound, a half cough he often made while chewing over some particularly distressing news. "Udina's not going to like this." He stood silent for a time, before speaking again, "But you leave the politicians to me. Report to decon and then back to the Normandy for treatment. You're going to need a strong stomach to face the kind of stuff this is going to dredge up."

Shepard nodded, eyes on the Prothean. She saluted and turned towards the Normandy, which perched squatly on bent wings, its needle like profile stark against the dust strewn sky. A sealed tent had been erected over the entrance ramp, keeping out the already swirling fallout. Shepard trudged through the darkening FOB, trailing medtechs and corpsmen. Bravely, she turned one last time to look up at the pall that hung over the mission site. Deep inside, something snapped. The gritted resolve that had held her upright for so long dissolved as the dust swirled above her, and darkness clouded her mind.