Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Mass Effect or Halo universe.
Chapter 2 - Intergalactic Curveball
Pain.
That was the first of his senses that turned on. Every bone, muscle, ligament and tendon felt as if it was being repeatedly jabbed with thousands of tiny white hot pincers. It was intense and persistent, but he was able to quickly tune it out. His training and past experiences helped immensely in that matter.
He looked around him but could only see darkness… where was he? Shouldn't he be dead? He always thought that every sense should be absent once one were to perish.
Who was he again? He was… Noble Six. Well, no, that wasn't his real name. Though he's been called it for so long that it might as well be.
Yuri, that's right, that was his name. As for his last name? Well, he hasn't known that for a long, long time.
He was Spartan B312 of the UNSC, Lieutenant, survivor of the Human-Covenant War, last remaining member of Noble Team… no, last time he checked Jun was still alive. They haven't been able to talk for a while though...
But… how am I still alive? Yuri felt the rest of his senses return. The smell and taste of copper still permeated the insides of his armor. The first thing the Spartan did was turn on his mission clock.
The Spartan III felt his eyebrows raise - seventy five hours, it's been seventy five hours since his battle aboard the Mantle's Approach. That shouldn't be possible, he should have perished long ago; MJOLNIR's systems could only keep him alive for so long in the vacuum of space. Theories fired back and forth in Yuri's mind, could this be the effect of time dilation? Humanity still had a lot to learn about slipspace physics. But that would have implied that the slipspace portal failed somehow, which would have had catastrophic consequences. Time dilation of this scale can only be observed by astronomically high mass celestial objects such as a black hole. Nothing else has mass that can even come close to having such an effect on space-time. Given the unpredictability of slipspace and its Forerunner nature in this case, it could be possible for a slipspace portal to malfunction and become a black hole, a black hole made from energy; a kugelblitz to be exact.
Yuri remembered the lessons he learned in physics during his education; theoretically, an immensely high concentration of heat, light or radiation in an incredibly small volume could form a black hole from energy not from mass. But even after five hundred years, it's just mathematics, it has yet to be observed actually occurring. Usually, a slipspace portal is evaporated in nanoseconds by hawking radiation. Instead, could it perhaps be possible for the effect to somehow reverse? Condensing the radiation into a very small volume creating a black hole?
Yuri strained to come up with an answer, anything that could offer even the slightest explanation of what was happening. Equations, theorems and proofs were combined together in an attempt to derive an answer. But he came up empty. No, a black hole would have torn the Spartan apart into the most basic atoms that made him up and done the same to Earth. He's still alive which means Earth is as well.
At any rate, the slipspace portal should have dumped him off in the middle of deep space.
In short, he shouldn't be alive.
Well, regardless of what might have happened, Yuri was alive. He needed to push aside all feelings concerning that fact to figure out his situation.
Need to figure out where I am.
Carefully, Yuri turned on his visual package, and the millions of very durable microscopic cameras in his visor turned on, giving the lone wolf a clear view of what lies outside the confines of his armor.
Despite himself, Yuri's eyes widened slightly. He wasn't drifting out in deep space, nor was he in the hands of the UNSC. Hell, he wasn't even in the presence of the Covenant, Insurrectionists or the clutches of the Gravemind.
He'd almost prefer to be in one of the aforementioned situations, because at least he'd be able to deal with something that he was intimately familiar with.
Almost.
He carefully scanned and analyzed the strange aliens. He's never seen anything like them before, the Covenant certainly didn't employ such creatures in their military as humanity definitely would have faced them in combat.
These new aliens, whatever they were, had four eyes. The first bottom set is set wide in prominent, bony sockets protruding from the corners of their faces. The second set is smaller and set closer together, just below the middle of the forehead. A flat strip of what looked to be either cartilage or bone ran along the middle of their faces and along the tops of their skulls. The eyes were dark little orbs, reminding Six of the black hole photos shown to him in class, all those years ago. Their skin color, for the most part, was of a dark brown hue, with a few of them sporting a greenish color. In terms of size they were about as large as the average human, tiny compared to Yuri's seven foot two inch frame when in armor.
They looked more resilient than a human, but if Six had to take a guess, they'd likely still break easily. Better not to get cocky though. Overall, he was in a terrible situation; captured by an unknown alien race, wounded and with damaged equipment.
This was a bad start to a first contact scenario.
The aliens didn't seem to be too fearful of his presence; they must have had him here for a while. Six did catch a couple of uncomfortable glances spared in his direction however. They must have either assumed he was dead, or simply deactivated if they figured him for a mech. It seemed they were studying him, he couldn't blame them for their curiosity. But of course, Yuri would prefer to avoid being treated like a highschool science project. The amount of classified material stored in his armor alone could prove to be a major security breach for all of humanity if it were to fall into the wrong hands.
Yuri decided to play along for a while and try to gather as much information as possible. He started with his audio receptors. Immediately, Yuri's eyes widened… this was going to be a habit, wasn't it?
The aliens spoke… English! There was no way that these things would be able to speak English without coming into contact with humanity. But assuming that the maximum amount of time these aliens have been in contact with humanity is three days, almost the amount of time he's been out since his fight with the Didact, why would they be communicating in English? How could they have performed the translations in such a short period of time? That doesn't make sense, and the chances of there existing an intelligent species that can speak the same language as another is a statistical improbability.
No… they weren't speaking English. Yuri's memory traced back to when he first came into contact with Master Chief and Cortana on Requiem. The artificial planet's gravity well pulled his ONI prowler in like a viscous whirlpool. Cortana rewrote his systems, improved them somehow.
MJOLNIR was capable of translating Covenant languages into English or most other human languages if he so desired. However, this was only possible after the completion of the arduous task of translating Covenant languages to their human counterparts by some of humanity's brightest individuals.
It all came together within Yuri's mind. Cortana's new software upgrades improved the autonomy of MJOLNIR's more passive systems which likely allowed the suit to automatically translate new languages as a byproduct.
MJOLNIR was already incredibly technologically advanced, but Cortana's upgrades improved it even more in a very short amount of time and with little effort on her part. It was a testament to the AI's abilities.
Still, for the suit to translate a completely new alien language and integrate it into his audio systems would require a reference point. You can't just magically determine the meanings of different alien words and match them with the English counterpart.
That means that these aliens have been in contact with humanity. Unsettling indeed, and Six found himself staring daggers into these unsuspecting bipeds as worst case scenarios began to play along inside his head.
The hyper lethal immediately pushed aside his emotions and thoughts; he still didn't know the full situation. Something was very much amiss here, and the Spartan wanted to get to the bottom of it.
But for now, he decided to listen in.
He was in a fairly large room, surrounded by dozens of computer consoles arranged in a semi circular fashion around him throughout three different tiers. They weren't trying to access his systems, since Yuri's very much intact electronic warfare suite hasn't detected any cyber attack attempts.
The room itself looked eerily human just from looking at the gun metal grey walls, ceiling and floor. He watched as two of the aliens cautiously approached him.
"Anything new?" one of them asked, in a deep and guttural voice.
"No Krotok," the other one replied, clearly sounding frustrated. Good. "We haven't made any progress in figuring anything out about it."
Yuri checked his motion sensor… damn.
All he could see were unknowns blanketing his motion sensor. There were a lot of them. Was he on a ship or planet? He couldn't tell from his perspective. But if things went south, then Yuri would be in for one hell of a fight against a much numerically superior force.
"We've taken its weapons in to be examined," began the unnamed alien, Six narrowed his eyes. "But without proper specialists, I don't want to touch anything that shouldn't be touched."
The Spartan frowned, that was a problem. He wasn't concerned about all of his equipment falling into enemy hands. But some of his weapons such as the Spartan laser, energy swords and plasma rifle are highly sensitive pieces of hardware.
He could not allow them to crack those secrets. Even the Covenant technology should be withheld from this new faction, lest it be used against humanity should they become hostile.
"I'm still worried about that thing waking up," said the alien, Krotok, as it was apparently called.
The other humanoid, apparently of a higher rank, rounded on its subordinate.
"That is why we've taken precautions you fool! The entire base is on stand by until we can find a way to breach its armor and make sure it's really disabled!" the other alien seemed to flinch.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry."
It snorted. "Damn right you fucking are."
Yuri felt his muscles tense, that just confirmed that they are hostile and in no mood to negotiate. If they are actively trying to make sure he is 'disabled' then they won't be very happy if he were to 'wake up'. Besides, if they wanted to negotiate in the first place, then they probably wouldn't have kept the Spartan restrained and surrounded by overly curious technicians.
This means that there is no room for negotiation, Yuri would just have to go all out here. If they were this hostile towards the Spartan, then they would definitely treat humanity the same.
All the more reason to execute these little creatures.
But all in due time.
MJOLNIR was very resilient; they would have to breach the shields first, before breaching the armor plates. Not an easy task even with the most sophisticated equipment. Still, MJOLNIR wasn't impervious, they'd eventually figure something out. Which means that the Spartan couldn't idle for long. Within three days they should have been able to do some damage to the outer plates of MJOLNIR. The Spartan suspected that they are observing his shield systems first before they begin to crack his armor. MJOLNIRs shields are a highly classified and sophisticated system so it made sense.
He checked his peripheral vision, the shackles that binded him against the slanted table definitely looked flimsy enough to snap. He would be unarmed, but a Spartan even without a weapon in a close quarters environment is one of the most dangerous things imaginable.
He'd manage.
Right now, Six settled for gaining access to some of this base's basic systems. He'd need them for when it was time to break out. He remembered a couple of tricks that Kat taught him about hacking simple circuits. He used his suit's transmission systems to intercept comms signals being sent from the very room that he was in to other parts of the base, and then he would intercept the return signals.
Almost instantly, MJOLNIR analyzed the unique comms frequency and easily created a duplicate. Yuri then used this copy of the frequencies to slip past their firewalls, or lack thereof, and began the process of gaining access to some of the base's simple systems. He didn't want to overstretch his boundaries and compromise himself should these aliens figure out what was going on, so he'd only limit himself to this room at first. If Yuri could access more systems with complete certainty that they wouldn't be able to detect it, he'd do so.
Yuri's lips curled in disgust, their firewalls were pathetic. It seemed like an insult to his skill to exert effort to bypass this lackluster security. Still, the hyper lethal would take any advantage he could get.
Satisfied, the Spartan switched his efforts to listening in on the strange humanoids. They didn't know that the very thing they were studying was studying them in turn, and making far more progress than they ever could.
These creatures' fates were sealed, that much was sure.
He continued to listen in. They mostly spoke about him of course, debating on whether or not they should space him or keep him 'imprisoned'. They also spoke about something called the 'Hegemony', Yuri logged that for further study.
From the way they talked about it, it sounded like a government of sorts. But there was one statement that really stopped the Spartan's train of thought.
"We'd make a good profit selling this thing to the Hegemony. Although having access to a mech like this would raise suspicion and be traced to us. I doubt the Hegemony would go public with a slave trading organization… gotta keep themselves out of the spotlight you know?"
Slaves… this is a slave trading organization. Six found it difficult to believe that something like this could exist without any opposition. In the modern world, many would band together to bring down such ethically challenged organizations. Then Six's mind suddenly focused on a major problem.
If his suit was able to translate their language, it means that these aliens- this slave trading organization has been in contact with humanity and if that's the case…
The Spartan III felt a spike of anger jolt his muscles into action; they began to tense and contract within the armor and the pain suddenly disappeared, his body began to heat up like a nuclear reactor on its way to a meltdown.
Almost immediately, the super soldier expelled the emotion. To an outside observer it would have seemed instantaneous. The Spartan was far too disciplined to let emotion control him for even a second. Instead, he'd use it as a drive to eliminate this parasite when the time came.
Even the Covenant, a conglomerate that Yuri hates immensely, didn't enslave. The Spartan III has read enough history books in what little free time he had to know what happened to victims unfortunate enough to be enslaved.
It was clear that these aliens were not willing to negotiate, given their desires to either dismantle him or sell him to the highest bidder. On top of that, these aliens are very much morally obtuse, to treat innocent people in such a manner. That is not the actions of a soldier. Soldiers perform cruel actions to protect the innocent above all else. The Spartans to an outside observer would seem cold and unfeeling, and they can be if it is necessary. Spartans have also performed cruel actions against their enemies, but it is always to protect the innocent, to protect humanity as a whole. Yuri knew that any Spartan, whether they be a II, III, or IV would have similar feelings about this 'organization'.
Six knew that this situation would boil down to a shootout. Once he's gathered enough information, he will strike.
As the Spartan returned to monitoring his suit systems and listening in on the aliens around him, a memory briefly played in his mind:
Spartan B312 is good for the job, he's made entire militia groups disappear.
"Alright, I want answers. You dragged our asses all the way over here with the promise of intel on the Collectors. We put our asses on the line for you, and now you're telling me we've wasted our time with you?" Shepard stared daggers into the Cerberus agent's eyes.
He stared back, face impassive and gaze unwavering. The entire ground team, including Mordin, was present. They all stared at the man with varying levels of emotion; anger, being the most common, and in Samara's case, a seemingly impassive gaze. Shepard couldn't quite understand how she could be so calm no matter the situation.
"Look," the unnamed individual began. "I know all of you are pissed and would gladly throw my happy ass out of the airlock without hesitation. I'd feel the same if the roles were reversed." Jack suddenly chose that moment to interrupt.
"Oh, believe me, the airlock would be the easy way out you fucking pint sized prick!" The man winced, knowing full well the implications that existed when it came to irritating the diminutive biotic.
"Yeah, I agree with the kid. Fuck this guy," mumbled Zaeed, followed by what was unmistakingly the sound of a flask being opened.
"Alright guys, that's enough," said Shepard, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
"You got a name, by the way?"
"Prometheus will suffice."
Damn Spooks, go figure.
Shepard sighed. "Fine. Now, what is going on? Why lie? What could be more important than the Collectors?" He paused briefly, getting his bearings so as not to let anger overcome his self control. "What the hell is so important about a couple of dead degenerates?"
"The batarians aren't important… what killed them is," Shepard raised an eyebrow. Prometheus's expression changed quickly from the usually casual attitude to deadly serious. His eyes bore deep into Shepard's own pupils, as if they were trying to peel back his gaze.
"I've been a sleeper cell for Cerberus in a particular batarian slave organization," he began, eyes scanning every face in the room. "I was supposed to keep an eye on anything Collector related that they were privy to. So I smuggled myself in and essentially lived as a slave for the next couple of months," Shepard suppressed a wince upon hearing that particular revelation; the batarians were notoriously ruthless towards their slaves. This 'Prometheus' character was a tough bastard to willingly take that physical and mental punishment.
"You've got some big brass ones, I'll give you that," said Zaeed appreciatively, unknowingly voicing Shepard's thoughts. He was followed by a few murmurs of agreement among the crew. Shepard cleared his throat, and the murmurs died down.
"So what happened to them?" said Miranda.
"Well, I overheard the guards one day talking about a mech that fell from orbit and was captured by the batarians when a patrol spotted it," Shepard raised an eyebrow, and several members of the crew whispered their doubts.
"Well, I don't want to sound like that one guy," began Garrus tentatively. "But I don't think there's a single mech in existence that can withstand that level of punishment."
"Look, I realize that so I-"
Grunt chuckled. "I would gladly go a round or two against an opponent like that," Prometheus glared at the grinning krogan. If looks could kill then Grunt would have a dinner plate sized hole in his head. But the large biped continued to grin. If anything, the man's frustration was only serving to widen the krogan's predatory grin.
Realizing the futility of staring down the tank-born, Prometheus turned his attention back to Shepard.
"As I was saying, I understand the skepticism, which is why I did what I could to record the incident… I know, crazy, right?" the Cerberus agent held up his omnitool, smirking slightly as several members of the crew expressed their distaste for his sarcasm.
Shepard and Miranda hesitantly shared a glance.
"Alright, show us what you got."
Prometheus activated his omni tool and wirelessly uploaded a video file to the holotable. Immediately, a projection was displayed, and Shepard found himself grinding his teeth at the scene before him. There were dozens of humans, asari and even a few turians crammed into a sort of shanty town. Shacks made out of thin, rusty sheet metal were spread out around the area with no order to them. The land that these people walked on was soaked in muddy water, Shepard was certain that more than a few of these victims suffered the effects of trench foot under such damp conditions. Barbed wire fence up to four meters tall surrounded an area that was clearly too small to reliably house this many prisoners.
Overall, these conditions were horrible, and Shepard was instantly reminded of why he hated slavers with a passion. If the Reapers and Collectors weren't breathing down the galaxy's neck, then Shepard would gladly dedicate the rest of his life to purging the galaxy of these degenerates.
Unfortunately… business before pleasure.
"Bastards…" he heard Jacob mutter.
"An example of the outcome of sacrificing one's morals in pursuit of wealth and power," deadpanned Thane, surprising Shepard; he forgot that the drell assassin was even there.
The commander watched the shaky camera pan around the rest of the camp, the non-consenting residents of this shithole moped around dejectedly. Most of them were clearly broken long ago; it looked like they had the weight of a planet on their shoulders as they sat in and around their rundown 'homes' trying their damndest to avoid the ire of their captors.
The camera finally stopped its panning, and focused on something in the distance.
About a half kilometer away from the slave camp was what appeared to be the main batarian base. It was a well fortified complex composed of steel and concrete walls and buildings. It sat on a hill overlooking the camp, displaying its dominance as if it were Mount Olympus; a symbol of power that the batarians held over the heads of their victims flaunting its existence gleefully with the knowledge that none may escape its grasp or overthrow it.
Examining the complex, Shepard could make out landing pads halfway up the tallest tower. He'd estimate that it was about two hundred and fifty meters in height. From this distance, the ex spectre couldn't make out any batarians, but he could tell that this was a big operation. The level of sophistication that this complex possesses is not necessarily state of the art by military standards, but these slaver scum have been around this part of the galaxy for a while.
Didn't look like they were planning to leave either.
Although, it seemed that the universe had other plans in store for them.
With an unexpectedness that surprised the former Alliance soldier, gunfire erupted from within the compound, and a high pitched alarm could be heard emanating from the direction of the chaos. Some of the batarians reacted immediately and made for the compound while some of the others stayed with the slaves.
There seemed to be a pattern with the gunfire where it picked up to a crescendo of mass accelerator induced hellfire, and then it levelled off to nothing but a few potshots followed by silence. This cycle seemed to continue several times, as if one side was taking so many casualties so quickly that they were more or less wiped out before reinforcements arrived.
Curious, and unnerving given how densely populated a complex like this would be. What could do such a thing? Definitely not one combatant. It had to have been a group of highly trained special forces operators and this Prometheus character was just blowing smoke up their asses.
Still, Shepard wasn't quite keen on going up against a numerically superior force of special forces level operators; he knew it would be a difficult fight regardless of how well trained and well versed his team was. The ex spectre was confident they'd come out on top, but still. They weren't super heroes, they were still only limited by what their bodies can do.
After several minutes of the steady cacophony of war, the gunfire eventually turned into explosions that seemed to continue non stop in their consistency, like an artillery barrage.
Jesus.
Smoke and flames became visible and slowly began to rise into the air, prompting the slaves to shout and cheer in elation. But that was short lived as some of the batarians, angered that their victims would dare to defy them, opened fire.
Several of the victims dropped to the floor, either dead or dying. Those that survived screamed in pain and several of the victims bolted towards their makeshift homes, hoping to avoid the wrath of their captors. Shepard felt a spike of rage pulse through his body, the cursing and graphic promises of horrific fates around the room told Shepard that everyone else felt the same.
Suddenly, a pair of A-61 mantis gunships flew over the camp alarmingly fast. Their guns and missiles immediately opened fire on the base kicking up massive plums of smoke and eliciting thunderous booms that echoed for kilometers beyond the epicenter of the monstrous airstrike.
But then something… odd happened. The gunships stopped firing and maintained a hovering position, halfway between the base and slave camp and about a hundred meters up. They supposedly assumed that the target was neutralized. However, that wasn't the case as a lance of ruby red light pierced through the air and slammed into one of the gunships. It punched into the armor and went out the other side, continuing unfazed. The aircraft immediately spun out of control and crashed into the woods, erupting into flames and engulfing several trees in fire.
The second gunship reacted immediately, opening fire with its weapons. Smoke shot up into the air, followed by more thunderous booms. The gunship flew closer, still firing its autocannons through the smoke. Suddenly, once the gunship got close enough to one of the landing pads on the main tower, Shepard, now in a state of amazement, could just barely make out something attaching itself to the aircraft. It immediately panicked, flying around trying to shake it off.
Shepard watched in awe as the gunship crashed into the complex, likely crushing several buildings beneath its weight. Almost immediately, a large ball of fire rose above the complex from the aircraft's ordnance detonating. Seconds later, the shockwave followed, heralding a thunderous boom that shook the insides of those present to witness such a spectacular fireworks display.
What the fuck just happened?
The fireball slowly faded and plumes of smoke spiraled into the air like an angry, deathly typhoon.
There were murmurs of shock and awe amongst the prisoners. Several minutes of silence passed before Shepard realized that the recording device started to slowly cut out before there was nothing but static.
The recording ended, and the briefing room erupted into conversation.
"Keelah, what was that?"
"No way one mech did that, batarian slavers aren't elite soldiers, but they aren't pushovers either. I've dealt with them before on Omega-"
"Fascinating, could truly be a mech? No, can't be. Mech couldn't survive kinetic energies associated with orbital-"
"Shut the fuck up you slimy little-"
"Damn, don't remember hearing about hardware like that. I did hear a rumour once about-"
"Okay that's enough!" exclaimed Shepard. The crew quieted down quickly. He stared at the Cerberus agent, not quite sure what to think.
"What happened after? What was that interference?" asked Miranda.
"It definitely came from the thing that wiped the floor with the batarians. Thing is… there's no way that thing is actually a mech."
"What do you mean?" inquired Garrus, shock and skepticism present on his face.
Prometheus didn't respond at first, his countenance displaying a distance gaze, appearing detached from the real world.
"You guys wouldn't believe it unless you saw for yourselves. Shit… if my camera wasn't disabled and caught the footage, you probably wouldn't have believed that either," the man's face turned slightly pale, and the commander's anticipation skyrocketed, wondering what could cause such a reaction from the tough Cerberus operative?
"What are you talking about?" ventured Jacob tentatively, as if he were walking on shards of glass barefoot.
"The thing… is no mech," he began slowly. "Its humanoid shape was too perfect, its movements too fluid. It was easily seven feet tall with black armor plates that had to be almost impervious to small arms fire. It had a golden visor that damn near bore a hole into your soul whenever it stares at you," Shepard tried to recall a similar description of a mech, but even with his extensive knowledge on military hardware he came up empty handed.
"It was intimidating to say the least. But that wasn't the scariest part, not even close. It was its speed. Nothing so massive should have the right to move that fast. It was reality defying. When it came for those batarians it seemed to be in several places at once, cutting them down with ease. Fuck me, I almost felt bad for them," Shepard didn't quite know what to think about that. Surely he was just exaggerating; being a prisoner to the batarians for months can mess with a person's mental state.
Shepard frowned, focusing his thoughts on the video; it had to be forged. There was just no way, no way that one combatant could take out a base like that. Seriously, riding a gunship from the outside? Who could possibly believe that shit?!
"Once it was finished, it freed us. But the weird thing was that it said something about 'calling the UNSC'. The crazy part? When I asked what the UNSC was, it paused and looked at me like I was crazy. It then calmly told me that the UNSC was the 'scientific, exploratory and military branch of the United Earth Government," the crew stared at Prometheus, stunned and more than a little skeptical.
"You know how ridiculous that sounds? What, you trying to tell us that you just happened to get rescued by an extragalactic or interdimensional being?" the voice came from Kasumi, who spoke up for the first time.
"Actually yes," he responded. "Look I know it sounds like I'm bullshitting you. I'm having trouble believing my own story. But it's the only possible explanation given that it claims to be human, doesn't know the Systems Alliance, has a suit of armor light years more advanced than anything in the entire galaxy and adheres to an organization that I've never heard of that apparently is supposed to govern Earth. If anyone here happens to have a PhD in interdimensional bullshittery then please offer up a better theory. No? No one? Thought so."
Shepard rolled his eyes.
Ass.
"So… what did it say after?" inquired Tali.
"It was a brief conversation I had with it. The thing went back to the batarians' base, claiming it was going to inform the Systems Alliance of the slaves. I suspect it didn't believe me and wanted to see the Systems Alliance for itself. I of course didn't want my identity being compromised aboard a ship with a few hundred Alliance marines on it, so I escaped and was captured by a couple of surviving batarians who thought I knew what was going on. That's how I ended up in the place where you lot found me."
"Did it give a name?" questioned Miranda. Shepard could tell that she was feeling confused and maybe a little duped as well.
"Not really, only a designation. 'Lieutenant Spartan B312' followed by some other jargon."
Shepard pondered that little piece of information. What was a Spartan? He frowned and decided to log that bit of information in the back of his head. If there was some elite unit of special forces soldiers raiding batarian slave camps, they needed to know.
"Why did you keep this from the Illusive Man?" interrogated Miranda. Shepard rolled his eyes.
Why can't she just leave the Illusive Man out, for once in her life?
"He wouldn't have believed me. If this thing is honest to god extragalactic, which I'm really thinking it is, then it could change the fate of the galaxy. Do you not realize just how significant such a thing is?! " Prometheus exclaimed, surprising Shepard with the complete one eighty that he just did from calm and relatively quiet to loud and angry.
"Yes but-"
"But nothing! I've long ago lost faith in Cerberus, Miranda, and I am not willing to let the Illusive Man meddle in matters far bigger than the rest of us. This singular event will change the galaxy even if this thing didn't traverse galaxies to get here. Think of the technology on that mech or whatever the fuck it is. Entire armies would fight to get their hands on it. If this really is a case of intergalactic travel, then it will change the lives of trillions. I sure as hell won't let the Illusive Man have even the slightest control over that," Jack laughed.
"At least some of you fuckers have brains," Miranda glared at the smaller woman. Most would be perturbed by this, knowing full well the consequences of irking the Cerberus operative. Jack kept smiling however, taking great joy in pissing off the Normandy's second in command.
"Besides, If I didn't make something up quickly, then the Illusive Man would have left me for dead," Shepard nodded; he was well aware of how Cerberus treated its assets.
"Thank you for this information," said Shepard.
He nodded. "I wish you guys good luck in whatever you're planning to do. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. At any rate… I got to disappear. I'd like to request transport back down to the planet's surface." Shepard arched an eyebrow; he wasn't expecting the man to want to go back down to the planet where he was imprisoned.
"And why would that be?" inquired Miranda, Shepard could detect the smallest hints of irritation in her voice.
"I don't trust Cerberus anymore," the man shrugged. "You know better than anyone here that the Illusive Man won't let anyone off the hook so easily. Just drop me off on the surface and I'll be out of your way. I can find my own way out of here."
Shepard considered it for a moment. He was still irritated with this little 'plot twist'. He didn't get the information on the Collectors he was hoping for. But this was definitely worth investigating. Information was power, and the more of it they had the better.
At the end of the day, the outcome of their previous mission could have been much, much worse.
"Alright, Jacob, escort him to the shuttle bay. Miranda, stay here. The rest of you are dismissed."
The crew began to slowly file out of the briefing room, likely with more questions than answers.
"Before I go commander," Shepard turned to face the Cerberus operative. "It should be worth noting that that thing likely contacted the Alliance about the slaves quite a while before you picked me up. I'd be careful if I were you. Alliance doesn't take too kindly to us Cerberus folk."
Shepard rolled his eyes. "No shit," he turned back to Miranda.
"One last thing Shepard," said Prometheus. "If you do come looking for this thing, you better hope it doesn't consider you hostile. After seeing what it could do first hand, I can tell you right now that fighting it would be like fighting a demon."
Jacob and the former Cerberus operative left, leaving Miranda and Shepard alone with their thoughts. The commander contemplated if they really should go after this thing. He stared at the holotable with the planet's coordinates perfectly visible, as if they were taunting the commander, beckoning him to come forward.
Shepard nodded to himself, with his next task clear to him. He brought up his omni tool "Joker, set course for the coordinates I just sent you."
Prometheus's last words repeated themselves in his head one last time as he slowly lowered his omni tool.
Like fighting a demon.
"Anyone else feel that this situation is a little… off?"
Garrus didn't bother answering the question at first. He simply stared at the metal table, tapping at it absentmindedly as the events of the past hour washed over him. Sure, he did feel that something about what was happening was a little strange. Mechs falling from orbit and then single handedly wiping out an entire batarian slave trading organization? Sounds more like fantasy than real life. It must have been something else. Maybe the Cerberus operative misheard the guards or perhaps they were spreading false information amongst themselves to confuse any potential spies.
The former could be possible, being exposed to harsh conditions both physically and mentally for months can result in dulled senses. The latter could also be possible, slavers generally aren't the brightest individuals… but there's always exceptions.
The turian marksman looked up at the individuals sharing the table with him, finally cutting himself off from his distracting thoughts.
"Yeah, I think we can all agree that this doesn't feel right," muttered Garrus. Jacob only nodded, before returning to absentmindedly picking at his food.
The other individuals; Tali, Samara and Grunt, didn't respond. Tali sat silently, wringing her hands together; she was nervous. Grunt was busy stuffing his face with food. The big bastard probably didn't even hear them. Samara sat quietly with a perfect posture and a void-like calm expression.
"I think going after this thing is a bad idea. Don't you think that putting ourselves in the Alliance's crosshairs is bound to end terribly?" ventured Tali.
Garrus, of course, had to agree. If anything, they might just shoot the Normandy crew on sight, not even leaving room for negotiations.
"Yeah, and if that video is true, then taking on that thing that wiped out the batarians wouldn't bode well for us," Grunt suddenly began to chuckle, eliciting a sigh from Garrus.
Here we go.
"Speak for yourself human, I'd love nothing more than to engage in honourable combat with whatever it may be," the turian was expecting such a response. But that didn't mean that he was not resisting the urge to hit himself in exasperation.
Grunt would definitely not be helpful in diffusing a potential conflict.
"Oh really, and what about the few hundred soldiers that the alliance will be sending to pick up the slaves?" retorted Jacob, clearly amused.
"Well, that's even better."
"Ok, we are not fighting the Alliance… right?"
Garrus sighed. "No Tali, that we are not," he had to remember that even though Tali is experienced for her age, she is still young and doesn't have the experience that most of the crew have. She is still learning, still experiencing new things that will serve to toughen her up.
But right now, like most sentient beings her age, she is a little naive. Granted, her experience with Shepard has made her a little less so. That's just the nerves doing the talking if anything.
"I do believe it would be in our best interest to express the utmost caution when dealing with this unique situation," said Samara, speaking for the first time since they all sat down.
"Agreed. Look, we don't really know what's going on right now. I think we should wait until Shepard informs us of what's happening," said Garrus.
"Yeah… then we can figure out just how fucked we are," Garrus rolled his eyes at the Cerberus soldier.
Though in his own mind, he wondered just how much truth there is to that statement. The Normandy ground team is a force to be reckoned with, and they've fought through the odds before. But against hundreds of well trained and well equipped Alliance marines?
No, they wouldn't stand a chance. That is a fight that would be best left avoided.
"I mean seriously," began Jacob mirthfully. "What if this 'mech' is some kind of Alliance project they've been testing? What happens when we get there? 'Hey guys we're just investigating this mech for the destruction of a batarian slave camp. Oh, and we just happen to be Cerberus as well…' Yeah that'll end well."
"Yeah I guess it'll come off as suspicious if a group of Cerberus affiliated individuals showed up to 'investigate' a certain Alliance pet project. If the video is true, then they'd do anything to protect an asset like that."
Tali looked at Garrus and cocked her head. "But why was it so clueless about the Alliance then?"
Jacob sighed. "It's probably programmed to do that. A ridiculous story like that would throw anyone off from its true origins. It would make for a perfect saboteur of sorts."
Garrus felt his face light up; Jacob was onto something. "Yeah… If it had a different design scheme along with the ability to lie and make up crazy unbelievable stories, then there is no way anyone could trace it back to the Alliance. They'd think it was a broken mech or that it came from an unknown faction. Its unique design would help to corroborate that story."
It was a clever plan. But why would the Alliance need something like that? To Garrus' knowledge, humanity didn't have any problems with anyone else. Besides, conducting raids on pirates or slavers is something that doesn't need to be clandestine. They never are… so what could they be scheming?
"There's a problem with that," said Tali confidently. "You're forgetting that a mech like that is far too advanced for anyone to produce. A project like that would drive any economy to its knees."
Garrus and Jacob frowned; Tali was right. Even the Geth can't produce a platform that complex or powerful.
"I suspect that we are dealing with a sentient being rather than a machine. No machine could produce any of the feats described visually or verbally to us," deadpanned Samara.
The Justicar's wisdom easily sowed doubt into Garrus' and Jacob's claims as they began to rethink.
The turian turned to Grunt for his input, but was flabbergasted as the krogan was still eating. This whole time he wasn't listening, just eating more food than what Garrus thought was even stored aboard the Normandy.
Mumbling to himself, Garrus turned back to his own plate, wondering what the future had in store for them.
He didn't miss the last words Prometheus uttered as he was escorted to the hangar. So filled with conviction were they that the turian felt himself shudder slightly as they replayed in his head.
Like fighting a demon.
Alright. Finally done here. This took a bit longer than normal. But in about a week's time I'll have more freedom so I should be able to pump out one, maybe even two more chapters in a relatively short amount of time. Anyways, I hope this chapter was alright. It's a bit longer than the last one. Let me know how I did!