Chapter 49: Cade's Eighteenth Birthday Bash – Part 1
March 31st, 2204, 1642 hours – The Planet of Bellara in Rebellare System, Apien Crest
Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…
(Specialist Cade Kitiarian – Team One, Blackwatch)
Currently en-route to the City of Sera
The interior of the shuttle was almost completely dark, save the faint, blue and red lights coming from the various instrument panels that lined the back wall separating the cockpit from the troop hold. In that darkness, five armored figures sat in the shuttle's crash seats. Weapons were cradled between their legs, clutched in steady hands with stocks firmly on the ground and their barrels pointed towards the dropship's ceiling.
The shuttle shook. Thumps echoed across the hold as objects impacted on the hull outside. Cade flinched ever so slightly and shifted in his seat, an act that wouldn't go unnoticed – even in the darkness of the shuttle.
"You're looking a little jumpy there, kid," a voice jabbed humorously over the team channel. The shadowy figure seated directly across from Cade tilted his head ever so slightly.
"Leave the kid alone, Jan. It's his first day," said the figure to Cade's right.
"I don't want a jumpy soft-scale watching my rear. Do you, Sept?" said the first voice. The words were harsh, but the tone was playful.
Cade nodded appreciatively to the figure beside him but still he shivered nonetheless. He unbuckled himself from his seat and made his way to the rear of the shuttle, where a sixth and final armored figure was currently standing. The turian was large and imposing. His black armor would have been almost imperceptible in the darkness had it not caught just a tiny bit of the glow from the panels. He had one hand up on the bulkhead above to steady himself while he stared silently at the shuttle's doors.
Cade came up beside the sixth turian and opened up a private channel. "Dad, how many do you think there are down there?" Cade said.
The figure didn't move a muscle. "We're in a combat zone now, specialist. You can either address me as commander or you don't address me at all," a deep, heavily-flanged baritone rumbled over the channel.
Cade shifted nervously in place beside his father. His fingers tightened across the barrel of his Black Widow sniper rifle. In contrast, the other turian was as solid and as steady as a rock.
The shuttle shook again, harder this time. "My apologies Commander Kitiarian, the flak from the city is getting heavier!" a voice called out from the cockpit.
Commander Koltira Kitiarian pressed a talon to his comm set. "Hold your course, pilot. We need you to land as close to the site as possible."
"Acknowledged, Commander!"
The shuttle shook a third time, and then it shook again. Though the other dark figures still in their seats had barely stirred, Cade felt his plates begin to involuntarily tighten up.
"Dad, I'm scared," Cade said.
The figure beside him turned at his son's words. "Cade, this is not your first time in combat. What troubles you?"
It was true, Cade had served two tours with the 26th Armiger legion as a Ghost Infiltrator. Fresh out of a sixth month-long basic and then a further six months of specialized training at the age of sixteen, he'd soon found himself thrust into battle against the enemies of the Turian Hierachy. Batarian slavers, vorcha pirates, human mercenaries… Cade had fought them all.
But he'd never fought his own people before. Yes, Cade had fought turians – renegade Blue Suns mercenaries who had strayed out of the law or the odd turian slaver or gang member – but never other citizens of the Hierarchy.
"It's just… they're our people, dad. Despite our differences, they just want what they think is best for their fellow turian. Why are we killing them for that? How can I kill them for that?"
"They are rebels, Cade. Traitors to the Hierarchy," Koltira reprimanded sternly. Cade understood of course. The Primarch's decision to commit turian resources to galactic cooperative restoration efforts had split the turians in two. On one side were the Loyalists. They supported the Primarch and believed that the galaxy had to work together to rebuild, even after the Reaper threat had gone. There was no longer room in the galaxy for isolationist policies.
On the other side were the Secessionists. They had believed that the turians had borne the brunt of the war, and thus the turians should first focus on repairing their own homes first and rebuilding turian strength. They'd been disgruntled by the policies of the current sitting Primarch. A bold attempt by one radical on the Primarch's life in the capital of Cipritine had been the spark that had ignited the Palaven Rebellions.
Cade wasn't satisfied. Koltira glanced at his son out of the corner of his eye, noting the downward tilt of his helmet and the slight slump in the younger turian's shoulder. "You have a kind heart, my son. Know that I too am loathe to turn my hand against my fellow turians. Turians shouldn't be killing turians," Koltira rumbled in distaste.
Cade was not even supposed to be fighting in this war. He'd spent most of it while still attached to the 26th, fighting external enemies, and he had just finished passing the Blackwatch induction test. The Primarch and the leaders of the Seccessionists had originally come to the planet of Bellare to hold a peace summit in its capital city of Sera and discuss a cease-fire. Unfortunately, a radical, splinter faction of the Secessionists known as the Vindicators weren't interested in peace. Led by the enigmatic, masked turian known as 'Talos', the Vindicators had attacked the delegates.
The Blackwatch guards of the Primarch and his delegate had ceased responding, and so they had been called in. The city was filled with Vindicators, a few Loyalists and Seccessionists that had come with the delegates, and many innocent turians caught in the crossfire. This was to be Cade's first mission as a newly-inducted member of the Hierarchy's legendary unit. His father, the commander, had asked for him specifically to be placed on his team.
Cade swallowed. "What if... what if I can't do it, father? What if I freeze?"
The shuttle shook again and yet Koltira still managed to stand stock-still, as if the laws of physics themselves were wary of disturbing the imposing turian. "The Kitiarians have stood at the right hand of the Primarchs of Palaven for the last five thousand years, keeping the peace and protecting the realm since long before we first found the relays. War is our birthright and our legacy. Duty is in our blood. You will not freeze," Koltira replied.
Then, his father finally turned to him. The older Kitiarian placed a hand on his son's shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze. The icy aura that perpetually surrounded the legendary Koltira Kitiarian dissipated in that one, small gesture.
"And if you find that you cannot pull the trigger, I will not hold it against you Cade. It is a hard thing to do. Say the word and I will have you sent back to the ship with the shuttle. The duty that calls out to our family can be a hard one to answer… but even if your answer is no, you'll still be the only thing I ever needed you to be."
Koltira moved his hand from his son's shoulder to his face. "My son," he finished.
Cade swallowed. He would not let his father down. "I am with you dad," Cade promised.
Koltira nodded, pleased, then turned back to the shuttle doors. "Pilot, drop the doors," he ordered.
"Yes Commander!"
The shuttle doors opened to reveal a brilliantly-blue sky, filled with soft, white clouds and the screaming silhouettes of dozens of other dropships, each carrying a team of highly-trained turian special forces from the various elite units. Below them were the four massive turian Leviathans – sea-going carriers that acted as wet-navy mobile command centres, each with a full legion attached to them.
Flak bolts streaked by. The fact that the Vindicators had gotten their hands on military-grade anti-aircraft weaponry was a sign that they weren't just a rag-tag group of dissidents. They were coordinated, organized, and dangerous.
The other four shadowy figures finally rose out of their seats and took their places to the right and left of Cade and his father, all of them as steady and unyielding as their leader. They stepped into the light from the outside, though their black armor seemed to drink it all in and grow duller rather than reflect it. The Blackwatch insignia was stamped on each of their left pauldrons – a black bird on a field of silver, speared clutched in one outstretched talon and a turian skull in the other. These were some of the most renowned, veteran members of the Blackwatch— members like Septina Oraka, the Ghost-walker of Invictus, who was rumored to have once slain a hundred slavers without waking up a single soul—or Lucius Dartorian, who on Tuchanka had fought three krogan battlemasters at once and won.
But all of them paled compared to Koltira Kitiarian. During the Reaper War he'd fought and killed hundreds of their grisly creations. Before that, thousands of enemies of the Hierarchy had fallen before him. Koltira had been the commander of the Blackwatch for the last twenty years and was rumored to be the deadliest and most merciless of the Hierarchy's soldiers. The rest were like pale candles before a star.
Koltira opened a group-wide channel to the other members of the Blackwatch in the other shuttles. "Blackwatch!" he addressed them. "The Vindicators have attacked the Primarch's convoy in the heart of downtown Sera! Thanks to their long-range jammers, we have no idea where he nor the other delegates from both sides are currently hiding. We've had no word from their guards. Find them!"
The flak fire intensified and the shaking got worse, but somehow Cade strangely found himself growing calmer and calmer. First his fingers relaxed, and then his heart rate slowed. Finally, his plates stopped shivering.
"When the Hierarchy was formed, we swore an oath—!" Koltira began.
Though black the night may be, faithfully we watch. Cade thought to himself. It was the creed of the Blackwatch. Drilled into every member, it was no doubt running through the mind of every Blackwatch soldier currently listening to his father.
"—For we are the shield that shelters the Hierarchy from all her enemies!—"
Duty and honour. Courage and strength.
"—For we are the blade by which the Hierarchy strikes down her foes!—"
We give our hearts to light the way. Our lives to bring the dawn.
"—Die for the cause!" Koltira finished.
Die for the cause.
The shuttle touched down on a side street and Koltira leapt out, Phaeston raised. Cade was right on the heels of his father. The other members of the team spilled out like oily shadows, weapons raised.
"Time to show us what you're made of, soft-scale," teased the Blackwatch commando beside Cade. Cade wanted to spit back a crisp retort, but Janus Bryik's service record was ten times more impressive than Cade's. Plus, he was the best sharpshooter in the entire unit.
The six-person team moved into a standard arrowhead formation, keeping low and quiet. Unlike Turian Ghost Infiltrator armor, the standard-issue armor of the Blackwatch commandos did not come equipped with tactical cloaks. Cloaks had to be requisitioned separately, and usually for either specific missions or roles. Only three of its members – Cade, Janus and Septina – had tactical cloaks installed, as they were the team's designated recon members.
Gunfire echoed everywhere throughout the city. Cries of pain could also be heard in the background, though from combatants or civilians Cade could not tell. Pandemonium was quickly spreading through the city as more and more turian loyalists were joining the fight. They had just passed by a large bank when two bursts of gunfire suddenly rang out from behind the team. Two shapes dropped from a building behind them.
"Two neutralized," reported Lucius Dartorian.
"Good work," Koltira acknowledged. "The Primarch's convoy was attacked six blocks south of our position. Aerial recon is reporting no survivors, but the area is heavily-patrolled by Vindicators. We're moving in on foot, sweeping the streets as we go, and looking for a trail."
Five Blackwatch teams had been dropped off near the ambush sites of the Primarch's convoy and the convoy of the Secessionist delegation. Havoc troopers and soldiers from the famed 26th Armiger Legion that Cade had formerly belonged to had been dropped off as well, but their main goal was to engage the enemy in the city. The Blackwatch were the ones tasked with finding the VIPs, securing them, and getting them to the summit.
Four standard legions were currently landing on the beach. Once they had their gear unloaded, they'd assist the Havocs and the 26th with securing the city. With no intelligence on the numbers that the Vindicators currently sported, it'd be a bloody fight.
A single shot rang out and another shape pitched headfirst out of a broken window across the street above them.
"Urban terrain is a nightmare when you're the ones up against an entrenched force," Janus grunted. He racked the loading handle on his Widow and exposed the heatsink, cooling the weapon faster. It fired a heavier calibre than Cade's own Black Widow, but could only fire one shot before needing to recharge.
"I'd say we're the ones bringing the nightmare with us, Jan," a female turian beside Janus Bryik chuckled. Dessia Nymera and her cavalier, flippant attitude was infamous among the Blackwatch. That, and her proclivity for explosive weaponry.
Janus and the others chuckled in return. Cade stayed silent. He didn't feel quite comfortable chiming in to the conversation. His father stayed silent as well.
Instead Cade scanned the rooftops with his weapon, keeping a watchful eye out for any other Vindicators.
"Do you think Talos is in the city, commander?" Lucius asked. Of all the members of Team One, Lucius Dartorian was probably the most professional of the lot. A veteran soldier of nearly ten years and a model turian if there ever was one.
"I know he is," Koltira replied. "The highest-ranking members of the Turian Hierarchy are supposed to be at this summit. If he can take them out, there would be nothing to stop him from simply taking leadership of the Hierarchy. He is going to oversee this fight personally."
"So I guess we'll be on the lookout for some turian wearing a mask with a skull painted on it. Spirits, the creativity with that one transcends the heavens," Dessia sighed.
Koltira chucked over the line. "He can pretend to be death all he wants, but death has many faces."
"Or none," Septina Oraka finished.
Cade's father steered them through the worst of the fighting. Around them, Loyalist forces were fighting the entrenched Vindicators tooth and nail for control of the city. The team however didn't stop to help. Instead, they stuck to quietly eliminating those who bore witness to their silent passage.
The group halted at the mouth of a wide street hidden beneath the shadow of a towering skyscraper, just one block away from the street where the Palaven delegates had first been attacked
"The convoy should be just up ahead, down this street," Janus said.
Septina crouched at the lip of the building and peered around its corner. "I see some bodies, looks like the Primarch's bodyguards. Can't see any of the VIPs though. We've got Vindies in the streets – at least a score of them. Unknown number in the surrounding buildings. They've got good vantage points but they look bored, probably cause the regulars haven't made it this far yet," the scout reported.
"I'll keep an eye out on the windows, don't you worry," Janus replied.
Cade tensed up and checked the scope on his Black Widow one last time. He knew what was coming – this was it. Time to prove that he belonged in the Blackwatch. Cade had no illusions about why he'd been accepted, but he could show the naysayers like Janus Bryik that he had earned his spot.
Time to see if I can pull the trigger.
"Team, clear the area," Koltira ordered.
Like a pack of will-o-wisps in the night the team dissipated in an instant, leaving Koltira standing on the edge of the street alone.
The others moved with almost supernatural speed towards spots or vantage points that each of them had likely mentally pre-marked as a good spot to fight from. Cade had picked one too – the first of a row of column of large plants in heavy, metal pots just a few meters into the street. From there he'd be relatively safe to snipe and provide cover for his team, and he could use each successive pot as cover.
Cade slid into position beside the first plant when a trio of explosions hit the middle of the street, just a few meters away from the convoy and utterly obliterating a clump of Vindicators. Dessia's handiwork, by the looks of it. How she'd gotten close enough to toss a bomb Cade had no clue. The rest of the rebels began to shout and come to life as bits and pieces of their comrades began to rain down onto them.
Cade braced his rifle against the lip of the pot and took aim. His first target was a rebel running towards a heavy gun emplacement. If he managed to get to it he could prove serious trouble for the team.
He was still in the middle of panning his rifle to the rebel when the rebel suddenly pitched over, a hole in his helmet the size of a fist. Damn, it must have been Janus.
Cade panned to another target – this one a rebel who was attempting to rally the Vindicators around him in the wake of Dessia's explosive entrance. Cade was about to pull the trigger when the rebel suddenly dropped, like a puppet with his strings cut, hand twitching feebly towards the back of his neck. Perplexingly, there had been no sign that he'd been shot. The rebel to the first one's left dropped next, in the same manner as the first. A third looked at his two comrades and tried to run, but he soon dropped as well. This time, Cade saw a thin trail of blood fly into the air the instant before the rebel fell. Cade couldn't see their killer, but he could hazard a guess who it had been.
Another explosion scattered debris and rebels everywhere. Lucius opened fire with his Phaeston from behind a burnt-out hovercar situated in the center of the street. It was a bold and risky move from the Blackwatch commando, especially since they were already doing so well.
His reason became apparent as the rebels re-organized and started to pour fire onto his location. He was going to reset the fight and let his team take new angles.
A trio of rebels suddenly appeared on the rooftop of one of the smaller buildings. The one in the lead dropped almost as soon as he appeared with another fist-sized hole in the middle of his chest.
Cade saw his opportunity. He panned his rifle towards the remaining two, intent on finally contributing to the team.
But as his crosshairs centered over the first rebel, Cade felt a pang in his heart. He hesitated.
The two rebels suddenly pitched forward almost simultaneously, as if they'd both been shot at once. Had that been Janus? It couldn't have been – not with his Widow. Had the turian overclocked his heatsink?
"Good shooting, kid," Janus replied over the channel.
Another pair of rebels emerged onto another roof and were taken down in less than as many seconds.
"Good kills. You're faster than I thought," the turian scout chuckled.
Cade ignored the veteran soldier and looked around. The shots had come from his direction, but from somewhere above him. No one else had sniper rifles other than him and Janus. Was it another Blackwatch team?
The question of who the phantom shooter was could be dealt with later. Cade turned his attention back to the fight. The rebel dead had to number at least thirty at this point. Lucius was putting down rebel after rebel with precise, surgical bursts from his Phaeston while Dessia flitted between decorative columns that lined the west side of the street, firing from her own Phaeston while tossing the odd explosive here and there. Together the two were a major distraction and focal point for the rebels, leaving them easy meat for Janus and Septina, who picked at them from the shadows.
Cade watched as two more rebels fell. The Ghost-walker of Invictus appeared suddenly appeared, standing over their dead bodies and wielding a turian acus in each hands. Unlike turian talon knives which were curved and built more like the standard marine combat knife, a turian acus resembled a large needle about eight inches long with a flat pommel handguard and a terribly-sharp point. They were designed for piercing bodysuits, and they were how Septina Oraka had been dispatching rebels without breaking her tactical cloak.
Usually, swift, abrupt movements like slashing or stabbing would take one out of one's tactical cloak. However, Septina Oraka was a master of careful positioning and of using her and her own target's weight, momentum, and movement. Her mastery allowed her to pierce her targets with her dual acus with minimal movement on her part, keeping her within her tactical cloak.
She must have been bored, because that would have been the only reason why she'd become visible now. The Ghost-walker waited until another pair of rebels had sighted her. She faded from existence just as the rebels raised their weapons and began to fire.
Septina appeared about a dozen meters away, but perhaps a few meters closer. The twin acus were gone, to be replaced with a pair of good old-fashioned turian talon combat knives.
The rebels shifted their weapons toward her, but the Ghost-walker of Invictus was already gone.
Another brief instant passed and she appeared again, another couple of meters away and a few meters closer to the duo again. The rebels panicked and began simply spray the surrounding area.
After a few seconds their Phaestons overheated, and the crackle and hiss of their heatsinks may as well have been a death-knell. The Ghost-walker of Invictus appeared one final time – this time directly behind the two rebels – and raised her blades. The rebels fell.
"Sir, I see an oversized platoon's worth of rebels coming up the south side of the street, from behind us. They'll pinch us if we don't do something," Janus suddenly reported.
"I will handle it," Koltira replied. "Focus on securing the convoy site."
"Sir," acknowledged the other sniper.
Cade whirled around. Surging towards them, maybe seventy meters down the street behind the team, was a sea of heavy, steel combat armor. It was a platoon of maybe forty to fifty Vindicators, armed to the teeth, their boots beating a heavy cadence into the road as they marched in synchronous fashion.
And in the centre of the street between the mob and the team was Koltira Kitiarian, standing tall and unperturbed by the small army beyond him. His stance was calm and loose, his Phaeston was holstered over his shoulder and he exuded this aura of casual confidence.
What was his father doing? He couldn't fight them all alone. Cade vaulted backward over the pot he had been hiding behind and started to run towards his father.
"Cade, stop. Leave the commander," Janus ordered.
Cade stopped in his tracks like a good turian. He stared at his father, and then at the platoon headed towards him. Cade's heart suddenly felt like it had been caught in a vice grip.
The Vindicators stopped maybe twenty meters from Cade's father. The soldiers in the platoon's front ranks shouldered their weapons and pointed it towards the elder Kitiarian.
A turian in the front with a red sash tied around his arm stepped out. "Blackwatch, we have you surrounded! Lay down your weapons!" the turian called out over his armor's external speakers.
Koltira slowly turned to look at the turian who had spoken, and then he swept his gaze at a contemptuous pace over the platoon of Vindicators.
"All I see are traitors, captain. Traitors…and fear," Koltira said coolly.
The rebel captain growled and raised a pistol at Koltira, prompting Cade to immediately raise his own rifle and train it on the rebel's chest. Koltira however did not so much as twitch.
"If I were you I'd be a little less confident. Look around you, Blackwatch. We outnumber you almost fifty to one."
Still, Koltira did not react, and his reaction – or lack-thereof – was starting to fray the nerves of the rebel platoon. Talons twitched against trigger guards and shoulders rocked as nervous turians shifted from one foot to another. An unease was starting to permeate the ranks of the Vindicators. Captivated, Cade decided to hold steady and see how this would play out. Could his father perhaps get through to them and convince them to surrender?
Koltira's face was completely covered by a thick, black visor. Reflected in it were the blurred, ghostly faces of the rebels arrayed around him.
"You are the one who has failed to grasp the severity of your situation, captain. Lay down your weapons and you can keep your lives. Choose to fight me… and I shall send you all into the next."
The rebel captain recoiled a little, but then quickly recovered. He growled again and then turned to the turians behind him. "He's made his choice. Kill him."
Cade sensed his father's aura switch in an instant. Gone was that aura of calm, controlled confidence and in its place appeared a miasma of bloodlust that hit Cade like a physical wave – a wave of howling, slavering, snapping jaws.
A cloud of black, thick, dense smoke suddenly enveloped Koltira, spreading rapidly around the street. Two more canisters flew out from the center of that cloud, releasing more black smoke that began to quickly envelop the rebel platoon. Cade recognized them as turian nightstalker grenades.
Cade swore and immediately switched his visor to thermal, just in time to swear again as a quartet of explosions cast an overwhelming cloud of white throughout his vision. Grenades by the looks of them. The explosions erupted throughout the rebel ranks, tossing bodies aside and sowing even more chaos throughout the platoon.
Then, gunfire started to erupt. Gunfire, and then shouts of pain and panic. The smoke was still heavy and thick. Some rebels began to call out for their friends who had just been standing beside them mere moments before, only to begin to panic when they did not receive an answer.
Another nightstalker grenade erupted, creating more smoke, followed by another explosion. The gunfire intensified, though clearly most of it was coming from the members of the rebel platoon. In the confusion, rebel began to shoot rebel. Cade watched as Vindicators turned on one another in that inky, black hellscape, mistaking one another for Cade's father. It was hard to tell who was who with the thermal vision. At times however, Cade thought he saw a shape darting around the edge of the black smoke. Like a wolf circling a pack of sheep, the figure would cut down any who tried to escape the blackness.
Cade just stood there and watched, transfixed, as the Vindicators fell one by one. Eventually they numbered few enough for Cade to pick out the silhouette of the turian that most certainly was his father. The figure on the edge of the smoke finally descended upon the survivors.
He'd seen enough. Cade deactivated his thermal vision and waited, nervously clutching his rifle.
Eventually the wind carried away the black smoke to reveal Koltira standing alone in the center of the street. His Phaeston was once again holstered over his shoulder. His arms hung loosely at his side, and that menacing aura had evaporated. Around him lay the bodies of nearly fifty turian rebels.
"Commander, the convoy is secured," Lucius reported.
Koltira looked away from the bodies of the rebels and up the street where his team currently was.
"Good, I'm on my way," he said.
Koltira began to walk up the street towards his team. Cade lowered his sniper rifle and appeared before his father. His father didn't so much as flinch.
"Are you hurt, specialist? Koltira asked.
Cade nodded. "I'm okay dad – er, commander," he corrected.
"Good," Koltira sighed in relief. Cade turned to look at the bodies of the rebels his father had killed, but his father steered him away. "Don't look, my son. Forget them. Remember that peace can only be purchased by blood, and it is up to turians like us to complete the transaction. We must be strong, for only then can we bring peace."
Cade swallowed and nodded. It didn't feel right but what did he know? He was still a child by turian standards. He hadn't been alive during the Reaper War – hadn't had to experience the horrors therein. He'd heard his father tell stories about how the turians had been the ones to buy the galaxy the time they had needed to rally against the Reapers. Turian might was– and had always been, even in the conflicts of old – a necessary ingredient for galactic peace.
He and his father then headed to meet up with the rest of the team at the convoy. They crossed a battered street filled with dead rebels, though Cade couldn't help but notice that the dead here were outnumbered by the platoon that Koltira had single-handedly dispatched by himself.
The vehicles in the convoy each looked like it had been subject to a massive explosion of sorts – all save one. The larger, transport vessel carrying the delegate party from Palaven looked as if only one side of the vehicle had been hit only on one side, which had knocked it over.
Septina emerged from the dark ruin of the transport truck. "Commander, senator Tydros is dead. No sign of the Primarch or the other delegates."
"Looks like the Rebels hit the convoy with improvise explosive devices. Stronger ones for the escort vehicles and a weaker one for the delegates. Whoever set this up was very capable and knew exactly which vehicle was holding the delegates. Captain Baryx's team didn't stand a chance," Dessia added after examining the blast marks. The Blackwatch operative gestured at the ruined lead vehicle. Inside were the burned and broken bodies of several Blackwatch operatives.
"Commander, I saw sniper fire coming from that building," Lucius interjected. He pointed at a tall building a few blocks away, in the direction that Cade had thought the phantom sniper shots had come from. "A team of rebels peeled off from the fight and headed that way, it may be worth a look."
"Agreed. Good work my old friend," Koltira acknowledged.
The team began to move towards the building. As they departed the battleground, Cade gave the bodies of the rebels one last look.
Despite his promise to his father, he had froze. Cade hadn't been able to pull the trigger. He'd wanted so badly to prove his worth to his team but when it had finally been time for him to do so Cade had choked. The young turian was lucky that someone else had been there to pick up the slack and that none of his teammates had been hurt because of his hesitancy.
"Don't do it again, kid," Septina Oraka suddenly said. Cade whirled towards his teammate, suddenly overcome with fear that the veteran Blackwatch operative had somehow observed his weakness in battle. Lucius Dartorian had certainly noticed the phantom sniper's actions. Had Septina noticed what he'd done? Or rather – had she noticed what he hadn't done?
"Do what?" Cade asked nervously.
"Give them a second thought. Keep yourself in the here and now. Focus on the mission and on keeping us alive. You'll have plenty of time to think about them later, trust me. Their ghosts aren't going anywhere. For now, we have a job to do."
He nodded again and clutched his rifle. He kept pace beside Septina and trailed the standard four meters behind Lucius. The team weaved through the streets unchallenged towards the building that Lucius had marked.
The team ascended the steps leading up to the front door of the building, with Koltira in the lead. The doors were shattered. Broken glass lined the floor of the atrium beyond the doors. Colorful artwork lined the walls, and a sparkling chandelier hung high above them on the ceiling.
"This is a very nice hotel. It'd have probably cost me a year's worth of credits to stay a week," Dessia quipped.
"Well that's one of the perks of being in the Blackwatch. They foot the bill for you to come to places like these," Janus teased.
"Next time we train together I expect it to occur in somewhere a bit more up-scale," Dessia shot back in a playful tone.
The sniper cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sure, Des. Duly noted." Beside him Septina shook her head.
The sound of fighting could suddenly be heard high above them. There was a rapid volley of shots, followed be a muted crack. Then another one.
An indicator panel showed that one of the elevators was already at the topmost floor. Koltira quickly called for its twin. The rapid gunfire continued above them, but it grew dimmer with each and every crack.
Finally the elevator arrived. It was a glass box with fancy, metal railing inside and a view of the city beyond. The team filed on quickly. Dessia tapped her boot impatiently as Cade struggled to squeeze past Lucius and his father.
"Should we cloak, sir? It's tight in here. Might buy us some time on our way out." Septina asked.
Koltira tilted his head to look upwards. The gunfire had stopped.
"There's no need," Koltira rumbled. He gently tapped the button for the top floor, and then tapped the button to close the doors.
The elevator began a rapid but smooth descent up the side of the building. Though Cade knew he ought to watch the door, he couldn't help but sneak glances at the city outside. Sera remained a beautiful city despite the civil war currently underway. Tracer rounds flitted between tall, beautifully-designed skyscrapers.
"Look there," Septina said. Her talon was pointed towards a particularly-tall skyscraper in roughly the center of Sera. "That's Perdellion Tower. It's where the peace summit is supposed to take place tomorrow."
Septina's mention of tomorrow caused Cade to momentarily pause. Something registered in his brain. He quickly brought up his omni-tool and opened the calendar.
He'd be turning eighteen tomorrow. Officially, he'd be an adult according to the laws of the Hierarchy. No longer would he be considered a pueri, or "child". He'd also escape the purgatory that most turian youths found themselves in between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. Turian citizenship technically started at fifteen, but they did not get full privileges until they turned eighteen. He'd be capable of holding public office and able to be accorded an official rank.
"Is something the matter, my son?" Koltira's voice suddenly rumbled over their private channel.
Cade jumped slightly in surprise, causing a few of the other Blackwatch commandos to look at him oddly. His father stood at the head of the team, his helmeted head facing the elevator doors. "No dad, everything's fine," he said.
The doors opened. Koltira stepped into a hallway filled with the dead.
At least a score of Rebel vindicators lay strewn across the decorated, marble floor. Most had holes punched clean through their visors.
The rest of the team followed. Locked doors leading to other suites lined both sides of the hallway, interrupted only by a fancy piece of artwork or an ornate piece of furniture.
At the end of the hall, the doors to the master suite were open. Cade saw an armored figure sitting in a large, heavy chair that had been dragged into the center of the room. It was a turian in heavy, blue combat armor. One leg was cocked over the other and across his lap lay a beat-up old Mantis. The turian. In one hand he swirled a crystal tumbler filled with an amber-gold liquid.
The turian looked at the newcomers. He looked to be about middle-aged, perhaps a few years younger than Cade's own father. Half his face was scarred and he wore a single-lens visor that looked as old as his rifle.
Crystal-blue eyes scrutinized the group. "You're late, Kol," Garrus Vakarian grunted.
Everyone except Koltira instantly saluted the Primarch. Cade had been taught in class the role that Garrus had played in the Reaper War, and how he'd flown with Shepard against the Reapers. He was legendary. Shortly after that war, the last Primarch had stepped down to instead fill the open seat on the Council. His last move had been to recommend Garrus Vakarian for the role of Primarch of Palaven. Garrus had grudgingly accepted – rumor being that it had been Shepard's final wish for him to do so – and had become the youngest Primarch that Palaven had since the Krogan Rebellions.
The Blackwatch commander strode forth and removed his helmet. Every time Cade saw his father's face he couldn't help but think that he'd been born the spitting image of his father. Both of them had the same eyes and the same silvery scales. The only difference was his father's plates were a bit thicker. Koltira also had a scar running from the top of his left eye to the bottom of his left cheek, where a cracked mandible then protruded. Rumor had it he'd suffered the wound while single-handedly fighting a Brute during the Reaper war.
"And you're already drinking I see. Isn't it a bit too early for that, old friend?" chuckled Koltira.
"I needed something to wash the taste I get in my mouth when I'm forced to kill my fellow turians," Garrus sighed wearily. "Besides, it's always five-o-clock somewhere, as the humans like to say."
Garrus looked forlorn for a few more moments before tossing back the remainder of the brandy. He then smiled and got up out of his chair, arms extended.
Koltira stepped forward and the two exchanged a hug. "When I saw that the rebels had gotten here first, I thought perhaps that someone had finally punched your ticket," Garrus quipped as they pulled apart.
Koltira scoffed amusedly and handed his helmet to Lucius, who took it without a word.
"We ran into half a company's worth of Vindicators at the crash site. All manners of monsters and villains have been trying to kill me for almost thirty years, Garrus. The one who finally sends me to the Spirits will need to be a peerless, exceptional warrior beyond the likes of your or I. By the way…Lucius tells me you got a few licks in too."
Garrus looked at Cade, even though he was still speaking to Koltira. "It looked like you guys needed the help."
Koltira chuckled. He moved over to the balcony and peered out the window. "The fighting's getting thicker out there Garrus. This 'Talos' is perhaps more devious than we could have bargained for. If the Rebels managed to broadcast your location on their own working channels before you killed them then they could have hundreds here in a matter of moments. Even my team and I won't be enough to stop them."
"I know," Garrus nodded. The Primarch then held up an ear-piece. "I also pulled this off one of the dead Rebels. Someone let slip the location of where they've got the jammer going. If we neutralize it we can get long-range comms back for our forces."
"I've got the surviving senators locked in that bathroom right now," Garrus pointed at a door off to the side of the room. Muffled sounds could be heard beyond it. "Tell half your team to get the senators back to our forces. You and I are going to neutralize the jammer and then rescue the Rebel delegate."
Koltira cocked an eyeplate. "You still want to hold the peace summit?"
Garrus nodded. "If there's a chance for peace, I have to take it. Every day this war drags on means we lose more and more of our people, Kol. I don't want to have to kill any more turians. Every life lost breeds hate – hate that can last for generations. We need to stop this war before the ties that hold all turians together are irreparably damaged. We can't let this 'Talos' extinguish our chance for peace."
Cade looked at the Primarch in surprise.
Koltira scoffed again. "An uplifting thought, but you know as well as I that the galaxy seldom allows such nobility. The reality is that mercy and peacemongering in times of war is nothing more than a weakness. The turian Hierarchy must remain strong, and for it to remain strong its enemies cannot be allowed to live. We must be prepared to what's necessary. It is our duty, Garrus. If the Hierarchy is weak, chaos and disorder will spread throughout the galaxy. You're a student of history. You know that what I am saying is true."
Garrus smiled. "We can agree to disagree, Kol. Either way, I'm glad you're on my side."
"I serve the Hierarchy, body and soul," Koltira smiled back. The commander exited the balcony and turned to his team. "Lucius, take Janus and Dessia and take the senators back to our forces. Meet us at the jammer location when you're done. Move swiftly, but make their safety your top priority."
"Sir," saluted Lucius. The Blackwatch commando waved for his other two teammates to join him and together they moved to the bathroom where the senators were being kept.
"Cade, Septina, we're going to be escorting the Primarch to the jammer – actually, Garrus is there any way I can convince you to go with the senators?" Koltira asked.
Garrus cocked his Mantis. "I know you asked that only for the benefit of your subordinates, Kol," he chuckled. "You've known me long enough to know my answer to that."
"Thought I'd try anyways," Koltira grinned. "Keeps me from being court-martialed should someone finally decide to put a bullet into your scaly hide."
Garrus snorted. "Is that your son then?" he jerked his head in Cade's direction, changing the topic. "I'd heard that he'd been poached from the 26th by the Blackwatch. General Mehrkuri was none too happy."
"Titus can suck my rear scales," Koltira replied in a rare display of profanity. "That is my son, Cade. My pride and joy. An excellent soldier."
The Primarch turned to Cade. "What are you, like eighteen?
Cade swallowed nervously. "Se-seventeen, Primarch," Cade stuttered. "I turn eighteen soon – tomorrow actually."
Garrus laughed. "Spirits, you've been a Ghost Infiltrator and a Blackwatch and you're still just a boy. I've got a daughter about your age you know? Just a few years younger. Fresh out of basic and already keen to start making a name for herself. She tells me she feels a lot of pressure to live up to the Vakarian name, being adopted and all."
He shook his head sadly. "To be young and to be in active military service during times like these… with turians killing one another… I have failed you, Cade. Truly."
"Every turian is born to serve, Garrus," Koltira waved his hand dismissively. "Cade and your daughter are both simply doing their respective duties. There is nothing to apologize for. Come on, we should try to have both your objectives complete before nightfall."
The elder Kitiarian slipped his helmet back on and shouldered his rifle. He then stepped out the suite towards the elevator, with Septina following closely behind her superior.
Garrus slapped Cade on the shoulder, an act that left the younger turian more than a little bit starstruck. He wouldn't be washing he pauldron ever again. "Your father is a real piece of work, son. Spirits, the stories I could tell you…still, there is no one I trust more. His strength held the Hierarchy together through the Reaper War, and I am sure it will hold it together through this conflict as well. My predecessor, Adrian Victus, depended on him. I depend on him….as I will depend on you someday, if the stories I've heard about you are true."
Cade swallowed nervously. He wondered how the Primarch could have such faith in him when he'd seen him freeze up. What use could the great Garrus Vakarian have for a soft-scaled coward?
"I'll do my best, Primarch," was all Cade could say, meekly.
"Please, call me Garrus," Garrus admonished. "And don't underestimate your abilities. I saw what happened down there on the street. You might think that what happened there was cowardice, but take it from me – what you did was not cowardly," he emphasized.
The older turian sighed and scratched his fringe. "I need more than ruthless, merciless warriors by my side, Cade. The Hierarchy – no, the galaxy – needs more than that. Please, don't lose whatever stayed your trigger finger down there. It's more valuable to me than a hundred Koltiras," Garrus finished warmly.
The Primarch then brushed past the young turian and started after the two Blackwatch commandos, leaving Cade to bring up the rear. He swallowed one last time and nodded resolutely to himself. He couldn't see how he'd be more valuable than a hundred Koltira Kitiarians, but he wasn't going to question the Primarch's wisdom to his face. No seventeen-year old turian would ever in a million years disagree with the infamous Garrus Vakarian.
Cade followed after the footsteps of the legendary turian, silently making promises to himself and to both Garrus and Cade's father that he'd make both of them proud and prove himself to be a worthy addition to the clan of Kitiarian.