Vanguard of Vengeance: Chapter 12
Icy winds blew across the glacial surface of Noveria, shrouding the frosty continents in thick drifts of snow. It was into the heart of this blizzard that the Normandy dove. The light frigate shook in the hands of the storm, the consoles inside the cockpit rattling. Enclosed in his pilot's couch, Joker gritted his teeth.
"This crawls, Commander," he spat out between frantic course corrections. "They've got us locked in tight on this course. If someone down there takes a dislike to us, we'll be sitting ducks."
"Just hold her steady, Flight Lieutenant," Nihlus said, though he himself looked agitated. His mandibles quivered as another stiff wind caught the ship and bounced it like a toy. "At least the course is a straight line; you shouldn't find it much harder than zipping up your flight suit on the way out of the bathroom." The Turian laughed as the human pilot made a face. "Hold us steady." He finished simply. The Turian Spectre turned away from the cockpit and marched back to where the ground team stood, ill at ease.
"You don't think they'll actually shoot us down, do you?" Liara asked as she nervously toyed with one of her scalp tendrils. "I mean, we have a Spectre on board."
Tali made a dismissive noise. "The Council doesn't run things out here, Nihlus' badge is worth about as much as the metal it's stamped on. These Noverian rent-a-varrens might just take potshots at us for fun and then charge us for the tungsten."
Shepard was taken aback at the bitterness in the usually bubbly Quarian voice. "I take it you've had some run-ins with the corporations here in the past?" she asked. Tali shook her head.
"I've never been here in person, but you hear stories, stories of Quarians on their Pilgrimage who try and broker some kind of deal in Port Hanshan and just disappear. And not before being robbed of every credit beforehand. It is not considered… safe by the Migrant Fleet."
"So, Liara," Shepard said, curious but also desperate to draw the conversation away from being shot out of the sky. "Who's this contact of yours?" The ship rocked as the current shifted.
"Celle was a pupil of my mother when I was younger, a real genius when it came to the field of xeno-archaeology. We were close, she was almost like an older sister to me when I was younger and Benezia always treated her like a daughter. She really gave me a leg up when I was first working on my Doctorate. She set up my first lecture here, but that was a long time ago."
"Well it seems she still has the kind of pull that gets us a free pass to the surface, so I'm not comp…"
"What is the meaning of this?" an angry voice sounded from the back of the flight deck. Liara's face fell and Garrus rolled his eyes. Javik, Pradhan of the Protheans burst out of the stairwell and blew past the marine stationed by the door. His yellow eyes were afire with a baleful anger and a twisted sneer tugged at his bifurcated lips. "Why was I not informed that we were entering potential combat operations?"
"We're not entering potential combat operations!" Liara blurted out. The Prothean's sneer twisted further until it almost reached a snarl.
"Once again you show your naivety, podling. Any landing under your own power is a potential combat operation. Landing under someone else's power is a failed combat operation."
"Look, your Highness," Shepard said almost sarcastically. "This was just a routine landing. Now, I'm not in charge, but neither are you. So if you want us to come running to you every time something the least bit interesting happens, I'm afraid you're in for some disappointment. I suggest you camp out on the bridge if you're so concerned, Mr. Vengeance." Javik puffed up his chest in indignation, a motion that set his ribbed plate armour scraping in a sound much like a sword drawn from its sheath. Shepard shot him a glare right back. The Prothean blinked first.
"The correct term of address is 'Your Most Exalted,'" he snapped. "But since I am now here, I will forgive your impertinence. I will accompany this mission." And with that he spun and moved sternwards, probably to fetch up the dagger-like particle rifle he favoured. Shepard rolled her eyes at his back. The ship rocked a final time as Joker made the drop to put them in line with Port Hanshan's open hanger bay.
"This is it, people," Nihlus said, heading back from the cockpit with rifle already unfolded in his hands. "Once we come to rest, I want a nice clean disembarkation. We'll make for the doors single file in quick time. Keep your eyes peeled and your weapons ready, but don't start shooting until I release you to do so. These people seem unusually unfriendly today, but we don't want to give them any reason to bar us from the port. Understood?" There was a smattering of "understoods" and "agreeds" to which Nihlus nodded appreciatively. "Now, did I hear Javik just now?" any answer was cut short as the telltale crunch and thump of the docking clamps resonated through the bridge. "Never mind, alright, pile out!" he slapped the airlock release and the small team filed in. With a hiss of air and a rush of frigid cold, the outer door rolled open. Immediately, sound was ripped from the small compartment, replaced by the droning, unchanging rush of the wind. Blinding white snow rushed past, blanketing the hollow in which the Normandy in an impenetrable curtain.
Shepard felt herself being plucked at by the fingers of the merciless storm as one by one the members of the team stumbled out into the snow. She took up the rear-guard position, for little good an extra pair of eyes would do in this morass of flitting snowflakes. Shepard could barely make out the spiked point of Garrus' helmet, which bobbed in the air ahead of her. Shepard cut the external mics on her helmet, leaving her alone inside the glass and metal bubble of her own helmet. The whistling of the storm died down dramatically, drowned out by the slow and steady rhythm of her own breathing. It wasn't until the haze lifted and the hanger walkway turned a sharp corner that that she realized the other members of the team were carrying on a radio conversation.
"…and what's more, I don't think we should just be stumbling into this place with just the five of us." That was Tali. Shepard was about to respond when the last vestiges of the storm settled, the curtain of snow whipped away like a shimmering curtain torn from its pole. The hanger was revealed to its cavernous extent, stretching up from the narrow catwalk they now walked on up to a curved ceiling. Great pillars rose from the lower reaches of the structure. While once they may have been smooth, they now bore the scars of years under the winds and cutting snows of Noveria, and so were scarred and twisted, the concrete rendered almost to the texture of tree bark. It gave the impression of a grim stone forest.
"…and I'm telling you, Tali, there's no way that's happening here."
"How would you know, is that what your CSec handlers told you?" Tali retorted. "Trust me; I've heard stories about this place. Veetor, one of my friends back on the Migrant Fleet, told me all about it before I left on my pilgrimage. He said they're experimenting on things like mind control. They're probably watching us right now, waiting for one of us to show weakness." The young Quarian wrung her hands around the barrel of her shotgun nervously, her head flitting from one side to the next. "They won't catch me though; this suit's outfitted with the latest and best in sensor technology. They might as well try to sneak up on a Rannoch Fo… eep!"
"Tali?" Shepard's eyes snapped up to see the Quarian staring down the barrel of a long rifle. She went for her own weapon. That was when she felt the metal at her back. Six guards stood around them now, each covering them with the barrel of a cruel looking assault rifle. The security officers wore dull, blue hued armour under thick grey cloaks. Their chests were emblazoned with a white clamshell insignia, likely some symbol of Port Hanshan.
"I'm afraid I can't let you walk into Hanshan so armed," A female voice spoke from behind one of the tinted helmets. "If you'll be so kind to relinquish your weapons and put your hands behind your heads."
"Like hell," Shepard started. Her hand tightened around the pistol in her hands. Nihlus had a different approach.
"Commander," he said evenly. Shepard lowered her weapon, but made no move to drop it. "We don't want any trouble. Here, I'm a Council Spectre." He very slowly took his hand out of the trigger guard and reached into a pouch in his armour. Shepard watched carefully, readying herself to jump the guard that had now circled around to her left, keeping the barrel leveled on her chin. Just in case Nihlus was planning something. Apparently, he wasn't, because he withdrew a small identity card. "I think you'll find this confirms my story."
"We know who you are, Spectre Nihlus," the lead guard said. We've been told to let you through, but not armed to the teeth. Company policy, I'm sure you understand."
"I can't let you do that," Nihlus responded. "I have cause to believe an Asari matriarch last seen here is in danger. My team and I will need our weapons if we are to safely extract her." The guards were silent for a long time, only the sound of the distant winds between them and Shepard's party.
"All is well here; Matriarch Benezia is at Peak 15," the lead guard said placidly. "Now, the weapons." Nihlus' crest shook in disappointment.
"It seems like talking isn't going to resolve this," he withdrew his I.D. into a clenched fist. Shepard knew what came next. The Turian's fist rocketed out, catching the lead guard across her helmeted chin. Her head snapped back and Nihlus followed up with a kick to her nearest partner. Shepard hopped back just in time for a blast from her target's rifle to lance brilliantly before her eyes. Blinking back against the flash blindness, Shepard threw herself sideways, towards the shooter. She caught the rifle in the crook of her elbow and threw a blow of her own, slamming the grip of her pistol down on the other's hand. A distinctly female grunt escaped the injured guard, but she recovered quickly, dropping the rifle and going for a wrist hold. Shepard struggled, earning herself an unskilled but brutal kick to the shinplate. Shepard hissed through her teeth and retaliated by dropping an elbow to her opponent's collarbone and attempting a trip. The other woman reversed it, getting her leg behind Shepard's ankle. Shepard gripped the other woman's wrist as the two of them toppled into the thin snow cover.
The other woman had made a big mistake. The ground fight was Shepard's arena, hard years in the gangs of Earth might not have done much for her schooling, but this, this might just get fun. Shepard immediately made to roll on top of her attacker, but found herself blocked. The other got up on one arm, a support that Shepard immediately chopped out from under her. She repeated her attempted roll, this time gaining the superior position. From her straddling position, she rained down blows, finding each one dropped with increasing frustration. And then suddenly she was under opponent, looking up. The slate grey visor above her was emotionless, but Shepard could almost feel her opponent laughing. She blocked an attempted throat grab with an elbow and earned a blow to the gut for her troubles.
"That's it!" she yelled in frustration. She feinted another roll, but instead scooted sidelong to her opponent and heaved with all her might. The other woman might be heavier than her, but Shepard had the floor to push off of and a fist full of biotic energy. Shepard was free and wasted no time scrabbling to her feet. She lashed out with a boot, catching her opponent full in the stomach. The other woman was hurting, but she was far from giving up. She wrapped herself around Shepard's leg and rolled, driving Shepard to the ground again. Her helmet cracked on hard stone and Shepard saw stars.
"Captain Matsuo! Stand down!" A voice rang out from a loudspeaker mounted somewhere on the wall. Around her, the sounds of fighting died away. "They're cleared to come in, the Administrator has agreed to allow them to keep their weapons."
"Are you serious?" Shepard heard one of the guards ask through a fat lip.
"You heard Parasini, Stirling. The Administrator says we let them go, we let them go." The lead security officer said, rubbing a own sore chin. She spoke gruffly, as if nursing some other, less obvious injury. "I'd suggest you not try that method of negotiation with my ERCS in the Port proper, Spectre-sama. They tend to show a lot less restraint when I'm not around to oversee them personally." She lowered her head respectfully, but kept eyes leveled on the Turian. Nihlus nodded.
"I'll see that my people don't cause any trouble." He made a short, barking noise, the equivalent of clearing his throat. Shepard felt the eyes of the collected fall on her and her guard. The other woman was on her feet by now, Shepard's leg still in her vice-like hold, though even now Shepard struggled against it. No one beat her once the fight went to the ground, not even her instructors at the Villa had been able to keep her there for longer than it took to make them regret going for the tackle.
"Hey new girl," the one called Stirling called. "If I don't get to teach these lawbreakers a lesson, you definitely don't get to. Let the Spectre's thug go." That put some fire in Shepard's eyes, she was the one being pinned to the ground, after all. After a pregnant pause, the grip on her ankle loosened. Shepard was sure to grind her heel into the woman's chestplate before withdrawing her leg. Her attacker hopped up onto her feet and offered her a hand up. Shepard ignored it, hauling herself dizzily to her feet alone. She slapped up her visor and let out a stream of pink and frothy spittle, ignoring the bitter cold. The other's reflective visor couldn't hide the superiority that seemed to radiate from its owner.
"Aye," she said simply before scooping up her fallen weapon. Shepard thought she'd heard the voice somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it.
"Now, if you've all made up, I'd like to meet the Spectre's party inside," Parasini's voice said over the intercom. Shepard holstered her own weapon and joined the rest of the team as they filed past the silent guards. The airlock cycled with a mercifully warm rush of air. Shepard offered one last glance over her shoulder. The woman she had fought still hung pack at the back of the pack of guard, and though the rest of them stood rigidly at attention, she stood at ease in an almost predatory stance. The airlock's outer doors closed on her watchful visor slit.
If the open space outside was stark, cold, and forbidding, the inside of the Port was the opposite in almost equal measure. The port itself was built all in curved lines, its architecture almost elegant in its understatement. The corporate city rose in tiers, each connected by wide sweeping stair cases patrolled by blue and grey clad Turians and humans with rifles. The denizens of the Port themselves floated about among the tiers, dressed in simple business dress, though it was obviously all well out of Shepard's price range. The port was quiet, not what Shepard had expected from the descriptions on the extranet. Everybody seemed to be wrapped up in their own business, placidly moving from place to place and only greeting one another when two people's paths intersected. While the people and buildings may have been understated, the decoration for the port was far from it. From every corner of every tier sprung a riotous array of vegetation, in places even full trees erupted from sidewalk planters. Along the rows of blank-faced buildings, short cropped bushes brushed the walkways. Something seemed off though.
"No animals," Garrus leaned over and murmured, apparently thinking much the same thing. At once, Shepard knew he was right. For all the city looked like a forest, not a single animal or bird graced the branches and leaves. There was only the trees, the cold white metal of the buildings, and the glass dome above.
"Spectre! Spectre Nihlus!" Parasini called from a glass booth beside the entryway. "Over here, if you please." Parasini wore a simple red-plum business dress cut conservatively and had her dark hair drawn back into a tight bun. Every inch of her spoke of meticulous professional, from the carefully filed nails to the not-a-strand-out-of-place hairdo, all but her eyes, which seemed dim somehow. She also shook a little, like she was coming down off some kind of high. Hasn't had her morning coffee. Shepard thought to herself.
"Your welcoming party gave us quite the first impression, Miss…" Nihlus said.
"Gianna Parasini, secretary to Administrator Anoleis," the woman said. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Captain Matsuo is usually very professional with new arrivals. Though our usual guests don't usually start brawls with security officers over keeping their guns."
"Spectre policy, I'm afraid," Nihlus said smoothly. "Head Office doesn't like its agents disarmed under any situation."
"Of course," Parasini said, sounding convinced. "Now, if that unpleasantness is behind us, if you could state your business here."
"We spoke with your port control, we're here responding to the reports of Geth in system and to retrieve Matriarch Benezia into protective custody," the Turian rattled off. Parasini's smile faltered.
"What's this?" she asked. "I wasn't aware of any Geth reports. All is well here; Matriarch Benezia is at Peak 15."
"You're sure you haven't received any kind of word of Geth attacks?" Nihlus asked, "Can we go to this Peak 15, attacks or no, there's a good chance that the Matriarch's in real danger."
"Peak 15 is currently off limits, I'm afraid. With this storm, it's just not safe to travel by shuttlecraft."
"Can we take a land vehicle?" Shepard spoke up. Sure the blizzard was bad, but she'd seen the Mako chew through equally forbidding landscapes.
"I'm afraid that that is just not possible. Garage access can only be granted by the administrator himself. I'd set up a meeting for you, but he's not taking callers right now, hasn't for weeks."
"Perhaps you could give us access; you are his secretary after all."
"I…" Parasini seemed to stumble over her words. "I coul.. No, I'm afraid that's just not possible." She said abruptly. "Good day, please enjoy your stay in Port Hanshan." The shutters on the glass wall of the booth rattled closed, leaving the team floundering.
"Something is definitely wrong here," Garrus said.
"Did it take your finely honed C-Sec skills to figure that one out?" Tali said as she pulled weight off what looked like a nastily sprained ankle.
"Whatever it is, we have to get to the bottom of it. We'll split up in teams of two, I'll take Garrus, Shepard takes Tali. Liara, I want you to meet with this Celebrian. Anything suspicious that you can root up might help us get to the bottom of this. First though, we establish a base of operations and patch up whatever hits we took in that scuffle outside."
Shepard turned towards the city that rose above her into the distance and ripped off her helmet. Somewhere up there, the key to unlocking this new mystery was hiding. And Shepard was going to find it.
Author's Note:
Noveria, ho! This chapter, while sharing the same basic structure as canon, will diverge moreso than the Therum segment did. You'll probably notice that the Port got a little sprucing up in this chapter, more because I thought it should sound more like a city than a mall of mad science. Let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time.
Phygmalion: I hope this chapter is living up to your expectations. I'll submit that all of your points were correct... in canon. Things aren't quite right on Noveria right now though. Also, the significance is less that she is named after Elrond's wife, and more that she is named after Galadriel's daughter. I'll leave it at that for now.
-Liddle Out
