Interloper Rewrite: Chapter 40
The Final Confrontation
The Command Information Center of the SSV Valentina Tereshkova was awash in a tumultuous din that blotted out even the muted impacts of glancing blows that rang against the mighty capital ship's kinetic barriers. Admiral Olmos stared at the holotable, eyes locked on the hell ship that the Mu Relay endpoint had spat out. At over 2 kilometers long, it was twice the size of his own vessel, which was already the most massive ship in the Systems Alliance fleet. It utterly dwarfed any of the cruisers in his surviving squadrons. It had a smooth, curved, organic shape that evoked the image of some deep-water sea monster. Olmos was thrown back to his childhood visit to the Gran Colombian Aquarium, the time he had come face to face with some of the rare specimens of Earth's dark ocean depths and had fled in fear to his mother's arms. But if the admiral had been frightened as a boy, now he was gripped by a paralyzing fear.
"I... I want all bomber squadrons focusing on that monster," he managed to choke out, beating back the primal fear, "All surviving cruisers, focus on the Geth frigates. Cut our flyers a way through!" His orders were relayed by a command crew no less shaken than he, but with a twinge of pride they jumped to action with a will borne of training and an iron determination. Outside the ship, his battered cruiser groups reoriented, their main guns lining up shots on the incoming vespid wolf packs. Bright blue light blazed outwards as the slugs began to sail towards their targets. Explosions flashed in the silence of space as their assault connected, cutting the smaller ships apart. But the Geth had guns of their own. The enemy cruisers opened up at extreme range, but they didn't need to work hard to find a solution. Olmos' fleet was trapped between their attackers and his ground troops. Whatever it was that the Spectre woman was doing, he knew in his heart that if his fleet did not hold back this impossible tide, the galaxy would be doomed. "Spread our cruisers out! The enemy has our Marines as a back stop."
On the holotable, the surviving cruisers did their best to maneuver while keeping up the pressure on the geth frigates. Olmos watched the clouds of his brave aviators charge into the teeth of the enemy formation. They were about halfway to effective disruptor torpedo range.
"Admiral, we're detecting an energy buildup from that super-dreadnaught!" one of his crew members called, "It's getting ready to fire! The spikes on this thing, whatever it is, it's going to be big."
"Show me!" Olmos barked in response, "All hands, brace for impact!"
The monitor snapped to real time camera footage of the Geth super-dreadnaught. Damn, but it was close, and closing. With a fright, Olmos realized that it planned to drive right through his fleet and out the other side. It wasn't even slowing down to aim its main gun. Before his eyes, the mechanoid tendrils that curled beneath the ship's flowing prow unfurled, the tip of the central extension glowing a baleful red. Like the hand of God pointing a finger of condemnation, the Dreadnaught shifted impossible fast. The damning finger and the shape of the SSV Lima were for a split second connected by a thick thread of blazing light and the Alliance cruiser peeled apart like a bigging flower before erupting in an intense explosion as its fusion core breached. The super-dreadnaught continued onwards as if it had not even expended the merest fraction of its power to obliterate the Lima from Ilos' sky.
The ground shook beneath our feet as the heavy ruby rod descended from heaven. The clouds, the smoke, the very air around it boiled as it passed to slam into the ground some kilometers behind the Prothean ruin. Saren smiled, the motion twisting his already distended mandibles. "Sovereign is here."
The words sent a thrill of panic through my core. Sovereign was supposed to be far from here, stuck outside the firmly closed wall of the Citadel and at the mercy of the Destiny Ascension and its Asari and Turian escorts. Had we somehow come too late? Had Saren already gone through the Conduit and called down the sleeping hordes of Reapers? I looked to the sky, expecting the shadows of dark, outstretched hands. Nothing flew up above but the wind. Still, I felt the weight of something up there, just above the clouds. Something buzzed in the back of my mind.
"Who did you call, Saren? Your living dreadnaught?" Shepard repeated. Her eyes were locked on the disgraced Turian's, but with a quick motion of her head she sent Tali and Garrus flanking one way, Wrex the other. I stood beside Liara, taking up a position between the walking puppeted corpse of the one-time Council Spectre and the assembled Marines at our back.
"But time enough for a final confrontation," Saren seemed not to take note of her question, "I always knew it would come to this. After the minor setback on Virmire, I have only increased in power. It will be a simple matter to put you down before I ascend to my place of victory." Saren spoke with a voice tinged with a mad fervor. He stalked back and forth, more like a caged animal than a conquering general. "Your little play at war outside these gates might have blocked the way to my reward for now, but I assure you, it means nothing. Once I string up your corpses on my Dragon's teeth, I'll use you and your friends to dig my way to the conduit."
"Have you looked at yourself lately? You look half destroyed. It's not too late to hand over the Conduit and put an end to this," Shepard entreated. With a flick of her fingers, she sent Kaidan and Ashley skirting around the mad puppet to strike him from behind.
"Destroyed? No. I have been improved! After Virmire, I began to question my own actions, my own thoughts. Sovereign swept all of that away. And now we stand on the Eve of the Reaper's return. They will improve us all, Shepard. A union of steel and flesh. It will be a new age."
"This is insane! Can't you see what he's done to you? Are you so blinded? Sovereign's 'reward' is not a medal pinned to your chest, it's a collar around your neck."
"No, not blind. I am the only one sighted enough to see my place, our place in Sovereign's great plan. The Reapers would have just destroyed us, but I have convinced them we can still be useful, even equal." Saren thrashed at the air in agitation. Long, knife-like extensions flexed like claws at the end of his fingertips. But there was less sureness in his buzzing tone.
"You call this equal? You are being controlled. You've let them scoop out your soul in return for what? The Reapers are using you, just like you're using the Geth. Don't let them control you. Give up the Con…" Shepard was cut off by a burst of static on the fleet channels.
"My God, it's unstoppable!"
"Did that thing just tear though a cruiser without stopping!"
"Somebody, tell the ground team it's heading right for them."
"You did bring him here," Shepard said sternly. Her face was a mask, through a cracked one. Worry creased the skin of her forehead, and of the scar that rode on her cheek. "This is your last chance, Saren. If you let your master reach us, you'll never escape, the time is now, resist his influence!"
"I… Can't," Saren cried out. He clasped at his head, as if he could squeeze out the voices of the waking gods. After a second, he straightened. The agitation was gone, but so was the fire. All that was left was the cold blue of his eyes. "This is the way." He tugged his pistol from his belt, raising it as if to gun us down. His eyes locked on me, and a thick buzzing filled the air, drowning out all other sound. Interloper he seemed to whisper.
"Shepard, look out!" I tried to move, but I was too slow. A gun went off, loud as a whip crack in the narrow passage. Saren fell dead.
"I'm sorry," Shepard lowered her own pistol.
"Commander, things are getting desperate up here." Joker called down over the radio. "Do whatever you're doing, and do it fast. The Admiral doesn't think he can hold them back any longer."
The Tereshkova shook again. Her barriers were gone, her hull pierced though in many places. Admiral Olmos felt his lady slowly die under him, felt the shudder as the burnt brown atmosphere of Ilos reached up to drag her from the sky. Still, she labored valiantly to fight back the pull of gravity. Around the admiral, men lay scattered, leaning over darkened consoles. The stink of burning and blood was heavy in the air, even buried deeply in the superstructure as the CIC was. The infernal dreadnaught howled towards him, thin red fingers of death reaching out to pierce his carrier's hollow insides. Some kind of liquid metal mass accelerator, he noted absent mindedly. That's what the young Lieutenant at the sensor station had said before he'd caught a spray of spalling. Not that Olmos would be left alive long enough to pass that intel on. His glasses were gone, not that there was much to look at any more. He had already seen the three shattered hulks of the Geth cruisers who had swallowed his desperate torpedo barrage before it could reach their master. He had already seen his boys in the torpedo bombers cut to ribbons by the surviving Geth cruisers that even now moved in position to pound his own ships into dust. Gamely, the gunners on the Tereshkova continued to fire one last broadside at the enemy as it past them by, leaving them hanging uselessly in space. Olmos hung his head in shame as it descended on the Spectre and her ground team. Eighth Fleet burned, and it hadn't slowed the Geth down at all.
Shepard was headed towards the blasted open doors to the underworld. Her team accompanied her, but I hung back, leery of the still smoking corpse of Saren. The winds that drove the grey-brown clouds above us picked up ominously. I looked about and listened. Behind us, the sound of fighting had quieted. Whether that meant the marines had succeeded in driving off the Geth, or whether we were about to have company I didn't know. Whatever the situation, the outlook looked grim. The Conduit was at the end of a very long road, and without the Mako it was unlikely we would make it out before the form of Sovereign came down to blast us to atoms. I sat down on a stone to gaze up at the sky. I was almost unnaturally calm. I laid my rifle aside and watched the swirls in the ashy clouds. Shepard had already begun her descent, apparently not noticing my absence. I turned to eye the corpse of Saren. It was looking at me. I fell backwards as it lurched to its feet. It spoke in the voice of a Reaper.
Interloper.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" I asked in a quavering voice.
It is what you are. You are not made of this Universe. You have no place here.
"How do you know this? Do you know how I got here?" Questions I had been too busy to ask started rising in my brain. Ever since I had arrived, I had been so focused on fighting, talking, playing the game, I had just accepted it.
We know of it because we know all things. Your mortal mind could not fathom the processes that brought you to this place. It is inconsequential. You shall die here to restore the balance and continue the cycle.
"Your cycle's a sham. I know how this ends!" I cried out, unthinking.
The cycle is eternal, unending. To state otherwise is an absurdity. We will end your insanity. The possessed corpse lunged faster than my eye could track it. Its hands wrapped around my neck in an icy embrace. I tried to cry out, but it silenced me as my helmet bounced offof the stone. Acrid air splashed my face where it was now exposed. I tugged down, hoping for a space to draw a breath. I managed a half gulp before the powerful finger crushed down again. Half remembered odds and ends of training, experience, and mad ideas whirled around my head. I bowed low, wrapping my leg around Saren's and leaning into him with all my might. I was rewarded with a stumble, me going down on top of him in a clash of limbs. In free-fall I was able to tear a hand away, drawing another breath. The stars gone from my vision, I reached for my pistol, but the Saren-thing struck again, this time with a flat blow that split my lip and tore my cheek. The thing gained the upper hand and soon I was on my back fending off further blows. I got my hand around the things wrist and held it there for an instant. The corpse put all of its force into the captured arm to try and drive it towards the ground. I used the momentum to swing the thing around. I now clung to its back. I scrabbled for the pistol now; my fingers clasped its familiar grip. I drew it and felt it unfold in my hand. A blow to the back of the head was enough to send the corpse sprawling; enough to give me time to aim. I slammed a block of high explosive ammo home and took aim at the thing's face. I let loose, not stopping until the glow faded from jellied eyes, and what used to be Saren fell dead. Truly this time. In the sky above, the wailing horn of a Reaper sounded with an intensity sufficient to shake the ruins.
The Reaper seemed to stall in mid-descent. Around it the surviving cruisers of the task force still fired their main guns, but even in the sudden stillness they were unable to put a dent it the tough hide. And then, as sudden as it had arrived, the Reaper turned as if to make an escape. In high orbit, the ruined carrier looked on.
"Sir!" a junior officer pulled at the blooded tunic of the wounded admiral, "Sir, we have to pull out. The dreadnaught is coming back this way!"
"No, it is no use. Take the helm, lieutenant. I want any available thrust turned towards putting us in the path of that monster," Admiral Olmos replied. His fleet may be gone, his ship nearing destruction, but he was an Alliance officer. He had a duty to complete, and right now that duty was making sure the monster below did not leave Ilos.
"Aye sir," The stricken lieutenant saluted. He picked his way past fallen crew members and destroyed supports to the front of the bridge. His admiral followed him, pulling a torn peaked cap of an equally torn forehead. The junior officer took the controls, frantically trying to get the engines to fire. Olmos allowed himself one last look at the holotable. His eyes widened.
"Wait, belay that order!" he barked. His eyes were glued to the scopes. "Something is coming." Nearby, the ruined comm station buzzed and fizzed. A voice, thready, but unmistakable sounded in the burning CIC.
"Admiral Hackett to all ships. Eight Fleet seems to have gotten itself stuck deep in the briars. You know what to do. Hackett Out."
I looked skyward again. The Reaper horn blared again, this time it sounded different. Somehow frightened. Then I saw it. The fingers reaching down from the clouds like the hands of a twisted god. The fingers were burning. One fell, completely independent from the others. The reaper horn sounded again in the heavens, driving pain deep into my mind. The sound rang, over and over again, threatening to split me in half. In my wobbling, tear obscured vision, I saw an indistinct and hazy shape. A flat disk. A hole in the world. I reached out for it, fingers scant centimeters from its event horizon. The hole faded away, dissolving like a dandelion head in the wind, taking with it, its tantalizing image of evenly mowed lawns and a white house on a hill. I collapsed, falling on my back and staring up at the sky. More shapes came out of the clouds, Sharp arrowheads, flattened wedges. In their center, the familiar shape of the Normandy. The cavalry had come, at last. Sovereign was dead. I fell backwards, legs suddenly weak, oblivious to the calls of my companions as they ran out of the tunnel mouth. We had won this round. The Reaper invasion had been delayed. Strong hands gripped my shoulders, but I was already fading fast. The world slipped away and with it, the buzzing.
Author's Note:
And so we close out the main plot of Mass Effect: Interloper. When I first set out on this rewrite project, I stated that I would like to complete it in time for the original Fic's ten year anniversary. Well, that anniversary is tomorrow, so I am overjoyed to be able to declare mission accomplished. I would like to extend my most sincere thanks to all of my readers, reviewers, and subscribers, without whom I would not have been able to maintain the motivation to push through to the end. I do hope you've enjoyed this, if I might be so bold, much improved edition of Mass Effect: Interloper, and I hope many of you new readers will continue on to enjoy Interloper 2. I will soon be posting the Epilogue to this story, after which I will be launching a new Mass Effect project alongside pushing to complete the sequel, and it's sister fic, Vanguard of Vengeance. I hope you'll all join me.
This rewrite is dedicated to my brother. No author has had a better sounding board and constant source of inspiration and motivation. Without you, there would be no Mass Effect: Interloper.
