Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Halo or Mass Effect universe.
Chapter 4 - Collision of Fates
"We do not have enough information."
Shepard didn't respond at first, eyes transfixed on the satisfying orange hologram suspended above the briefing room's holotable. The holographic representation of a planet spun lazily in a counterclockwise direction. Lines of information hovered next to the three-dimensional picture. Average surface temperature, mass, magnetic field strength, average atmospheric pressure and so on.
But his eyes were not focused on any of that. His piercing brown eyes stared unwaveringly at three small specks sitting just a few millimeters above the surface of the artificially generated planetoid. They were unmistakingly ships, and not just any ships, Alliance warships.
It was expected of course that the Alliance would beat them to their destination. But that wouldn't deter the commander, not after facing down Sovereign and that bastard Saren.
"They've got two destroyers and a cruiser, enough firepower to atomize the Normandy," continued Miranda, not noticing Shepard's silence or probably not even caring.
"I mean, even if we do get past orbital security, there's still possibly hundreds of Alliance troops on the surface by now. If they haven't reached the surface of the planet yet, they will, and they'll definitely beat us to it." Shepard's eye twitched.
"And let's not forget the armor and air support they have at their disposal-"
"Miranda!" Shepard exclaimed, more loudly than he meant to. The woman stopped rambling and looked at Shepard, surprised. Was she under the impression that Shepard wasn't even in the room this whole time?
He sighed. "I get it, really, I do. You don't have to give me a rundown of the situation." The Cerberus operative raised an eyebrow.
"And yet… you're still going through with this?"
"Yes."
"Bloody hell!" The woman rubbed her temples with a hand. Shepard couldn't really blame her.
"Miranda…" Shepard started off, he considered his words carefully. "The reason we are here in the first place is to acquire information. Not every mission will be straightforward and we will never have everything go our way." Miranda's expression softened, if only a little.
"That's why we're the ones that take these missions. We've worked with less information in the past and succeeded, right? It's just another mission Miranda. We've overcome every challenge thrown at us in the past and we'll do it again here."
Miranda sighed in defeat, but Shepard thought he saw her lips upturn, if only for a moment.
"But how can you be sure that this is the right call? What makes you think this will help us with the mission?"
It was a good question, and Shepard mulled it over in his head more than a few times over the past few hours. But if this… entity came from another galaxy or heavens forbid, a different reality, then their technological prowess must be on a scale the likes of which even the Protheans could only ever dream of emulating. How powerful could such a force be against the Reapers?
Still, Shepard wasn't so foolish as to let his desire to crush the Reapers overcome his logical thinking. They were taking a huge risk putting themselves in arms reach of an Alliance battlegroup. But if they can obtain information about who these new players were, then maybe they can find a way to contact them, assuming this really is a new faction with no knowledge of the council and its species.
"We need to know what this new faction is. Who are they? Where did they come from and what are their intentions? If what we know is true, then think of the benefits of having such an ally on our side against the Reapers."
Miranda shook her head. "We're running off of too many assumptions. What makes you think that they'll even want to help us fight the Reapers? If they can travel to and from different galaxies at a whim, then they can easily put themselves out of reach of the Reapers, which makes a conflict with the Reapers impractical, pointless."
Shepard nodded; he understood where Miranda was coming from. A society with this level of technological prowess would have also matured; seeing most conflicts as pointless if it can be avoided. After all, it's the same reason why war amongst humans has been steadily declining through humanity's existence. Back in the olden days, wars were generally fought to acquire land and resources that otherwise wouldn't be able to be acquired through trade. As the world slowly became more and more connected through trading and whatnot, people began to realise; why bother waging wars for resources and throwing lives and resources away when one can trade with one's neighbor to acquire something of value?
"But then, why engage in combat with the Batarians?" Shepard wondered aloud. His question seemed to stump Miranda as well. She crossed an arm and with her other, she stroked her chin, bemused.
"Perhaps they have some kind of moral code?" Ventured the Cerberus operative. "Batarian slave trading organizations is a well documented occurrence. If they know anything about-I can't believe I'm going to say this-our galaxy, then certainly they would have come across information like that."
But that brings up another question, What do they have to gain from waging silent wars with the Batarians? They'd have to have known that actions like this would eventually put them in the galactic spotlight. What are their motives? Is this just about justice? About saving innocent lives? Or is this part of a grander scheme that Shepard couldn't foresee?
"Another scenario you haven't considered," Shepard looked to his left at the room's third occupant, who had been unusually quiet.
"What is it, Mordin?" Asked Shepard, eager to hear what the Salarian scientist has to say.
"Perhaps unknown faction did not arrive of own volition? Advanced technology could be prone to failure, suggesting intergalactic travel likely still in infancy even for this unknown civilization. Perhaps test failed and sent subjects to our galaxy?" Shepard raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Miranda opened her mouth after a few seconds of thought. "It… it could be possible. Could they have been unintentionally dumped into our galaxy after a failed test? Batarians aren't the most hospitable individuals, especially slavers."
"Yeah, I'd imagine that the Batarians initiated hostilities first and bit off more than they could chew… the bastards." Shepard chuckled. He always enjoyed it when slavers got taken down a peg or two.
Miranda rolled her eyes. "Given Cerberus' reputation, I highly doubt that these newcomers will see us as any more benevolent than the Batarians."
"True, which is why communication is the key. We avoid conflict as much as possible, make them realize our intentions and our willingness to negotiate. We need to make them understand the threat of the Reapers. Make them understand that once the Reapers realize life exists outside of our galaxy, that they'll probably stop at nothing until they can subjugate those galaxies too."
Miranda's eyes widened a bit. Her face turned slightly pale, paler than her usual complexion. The gravity of the situation dawned on her suddenly, and then Shepard's heart dropped a little as he realized what he just said. He didn't even think of that possibility. If the Reapers figure out that intergalactic travel is possible...
"D-do you think the Reapers would try and expand past our galaxy?" Stuttered Miranda, the usually calm and professional Cerberus operative had an expression akin to that of fear, hidden to most, but not to Shepard.
"I wouldn't put it past them." Shepard growled. He looked to Mordin, and the Salarian nodded grimly.
And so, all it took was one statement, one realization, one horrific thought concerning a theoretical scenario the likes of which their most horrific nightmares could scarcely comprehend. That's all it took to squash the doubt in their hearts and replace it with a grim resolve. They had a basis for negotiation, a way to impart the gravity of the threat that is the Reapers onto these new intergalactic visitors.
He looked at the other two occupants unflinchingly.
"Let's do this."
Jacob disassembled the rifle in front of him with practiced ease, carefully spreading out its fundamental parts in front of him and making sure to clean each piece.
Barrel's clean, optic calibrated, parallel magnetic conductors are good to go… targeting assist features? Check.
The experienced soldier easily reassembled the weapon before pulling another one out of the locker. Jacob was the one responsible for ensuring the Normandy's arsenal was in check, so he regularly inspected the weapons for any defects.
This was usually a time consuming process, though Jacob enjoyed it nonetheless; he found it relaxing, a way for him to unwind and divert his thoughts away from troubling things.
This time though, his little routine has lasted for a bit longer. He looked down at the weapon in front of him, realizing that this particular rifle was already inspected. He shrugged, and took it apart anyways.
He was nervous.
Shepard has already informed the crew of the plan. He still has trouble believing that they could be dealing with an extragalactic faction. Worse, they were about to put themselves in arm's reach of an Alliance battlegroup along with hundreds of Alliance troops in an attempt to gather information about these newcomers.
It made him anxious, impatient too. The ships haven't yet sent troops to the surface, but they will soon. They were only a few hours out from deploying, prior to that they'll have the full brief. But the anxiousness is what was driving the soldier up the wall. He needed something to pass the time and to calm him.
So here he was, in the armory, alone.
Jacob trusted the commander, his leadership skills and combat prowess has dug them out of numerous messy situations that would have overwhelmed most groups. But even he had to wonder; is this the best choice? Does pursuing this objective really have the chance of improving their chances against the Collectors and Reapers at large?
The veteran soldier can't help but shake the thought that maybe they were just grasping at straws here, that maybe there wasn't anything to gain. These odds were insurmountable, even for the Normandy crew a direct engagement would be suicidal. If they are forced into a fight and can't escape… who will carry on with the mission? Who will take the fight to the Collectors and Reapers?
He sighed and closed his eyes momentarily. He'll just have to trust the commander and the rest of the ground team.
"Jacob?"
The soldier turned around to the source of the voice, surprised to see Miranda casually leaning against the wall next to the armory's entrance. How long had she been there?
"Hey Miranda." Said Jacob. "Just taking inventory."
The woman raised an eyebrow, and the Cerberus soldier noticed that Miranda's demeanour was one of concern. This surprised Jacob; many saw Miranda as cold hearted, uncaring. Jacob has known the woman for years, he knew that she did in some way care for the crew. She was human after all and no amount of training or conditioning could completely root out those human emotions.
Still, the Cerberus operative was not one to easily show her emotions.
"I know that." She said. "But you've been at it for longer than usual. Something wrong?"
Jacob frowned. He didn't like talking about his feelings. He was a soldier, time spent on the firing range, cleaning and maintaining equipment, those were the things he did to help clear his mind. He preferred action over words, the stalwart soldier was a man of action.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He said, allowing a smile to take hold of his previously deadpan demeanour. "I'm just double checking the Normandy's inventory. I always do that before every mission."
Miranda smiled, if only slightly.
"You do, but this is unusual, even for you."
"This is an unusual mission."
The woman sighed, as if she already knew what was troubling Jacob. In hindsight, the soldier was certain she already did. Miranda was very perceptive. She had files on every crew member on the ship. But she's personally known Jacob for years. The soldier just now realized how pointless it was to hide his concerns from the Cerberus operative and stifled a laugh.
"I know you're concerned about the mission." She said. "We all are."
Jacob smirked. "You? The Ice Queen… Concerned?"
Miranda rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to be nice, you ass." Jacob chuckled lightheartedly, eliciting a small smile from the woman.
"It's just unusual." Started Jacob, not quite sure where he was going with this. What was unusual? Embarking on a mission with little to no information, when they've always prepared for every previous mission with often several back up plans should things go south? Risking an engagement with Alliance Forces? Or realizing that all of this is over the insane idea that there may exist extragalactic beings in this galaxy that can be convinced to help fight the Reapers?
"Shepard is a good leader. But even he isn't perfect. I worry what will happen if we fail. I wonder if this is the right call."
"We won't fail Jacob." Miranda tentatively walked towards the troubled soldier. "Look I get why you're worried. I also wonder if Shepard made the right call. But we're in this together… even if everyone hates me." She laughed quietly.
"We just need to trust Shepard, we need to trust each other. If we do that, then our chances of getting out of here alive will increase dramatically."
Jacob stared impassively at Miranda. He thought about it, about why he followed Shepard. A good leader commands the loyalty of their followers, their respect. A good leader can lead his or her subordinates into the depths of hell, even if defeat is guaranteed. This is because a good leader has proven that they can be trusted, proven that they are worthy of loyalty.
The Normandy and its crew are the only ones that can face off against the Collectors and Reapers, no one else will.
Besides, there's no one else that Jacob would rather fight and die beside.
Spartan B312's eyes impassively scanned the terrain around him, mechanically taking in and analyzing every tree, bush or anything else that can be used for cover and concealment.
Six could probably count on one hand the amount of times that his mind just… stopped.
The alien technology was easy to determine how to use. He spent years tinkering with Covenant technology and a considerable amount of time with Forerunner technology that he has become quite experienced with learning the ins and outs of unknown technology.
His suit's systems were able to translate the alien language into English, further confirming that these creatures have had their eyes on humanity for a while.
He tried every UNSC frequency, every coordinate that he knew of… but he came up empty.
It was almost as if the UNSC never existed to begin with. He used their computer systems to reach out to anything that could be used to acquire knowledge, stumbling across something called "the Extranet". He learned about Batarians, Asari, Quarians and a plethora of other species he's never seen or heard of. He learned of a humanity that at first had a similar history, but then deviated significantly after the discovery of Element Zero and mass relays.
He learned of a humanity that had a first contact that led to a small conflict (by his standards) where extinction was not a threat, a humanity that allowed itself to become a part of an alien conglomerate… a humanity that, for the most part, peacefully coexisted with aliens.
It confused the Spartan. His entire life, his entire existence was dedicated to massacring the Covenant, an alien conglomerate that sought to systematically slaughter humanity. Yuri was mystified by the idea of humanity existing peacefully with aliens in an intergalactic society. It was such a foreign idea. He clenched his fist as he imagined scenarios where this so-called 'council' was using the idea of peace in an attempt to earn humanity's trust before launching surprise attacks and crippling the human military, condemning the species to war again.
He shook himself from those thoughts. He didn't know the full story. But then again, he didn't know what to trust now. The Spartan actually managed to come into contact with this Systems Alliance and was able to direct their attention to the planet he was stationed on. The Spartan explained his situation as best he could and firmly stated his goal of returning to UNSC space. They were hesitant as expected but were willing to communicate.
It was better than nothing.
It was night time now, three days after he eliminated the Batarians. The civilians were still inside their encampment. Placing untrained civilians inside of an alien fortification with all manner of dangerous weaponry wouldn't bode well for their safety. Not to mention that in the event of a counter attack, the Batarians would be looking to reclaim their base of operations. These civilians are safer here.
The hyper lethal vector made sure to perform his usual… clean up. It was what he did whenever he had to deal with Insurrectionists or Covenant encampments deep behind enemy lines.
The less evidence he leaves behind the better. All Spartans were masters at covering their own tracks. But Yuri's time as a headhunter allowed him to hone those skills to levels that most Spartans did not possess.
What few Batarians he did kill recently were likely patrol groups sent to assess the status of their base. He was surprised that they were taking this long to mount a sizable force to launch a counter attack. It was further evidence that this force was very much lacking in an adequate command structure. It made large scale operations less efficient and more difficult to carry out at a meaningful degree when compared to more disciplined military forces.
He was beginning to understand this enemy better.
But the Spartan wanted to expand his knowledge on something else; their biology. He contemplated dissecting one of the corpses to see how they ticked but realized that would be too much of a lengthy process when the lives of innocent people depended on him. So he refrained.
Yuri maintained his crouching position and scanned his sectors, minimizing head movement to stay concealed. The lone wolf allowed himself to frown as implications of his situation continued to sink in.
Is it possible to return to the UNSC? Humanity's understanding of slipspace technology is nowhere near enough to even consider intergalactic travel. The anomaly that sent him here was of Forerunner origin. But… if he got here in the first place then there has to be a way back right?
The Spartan decided that he would cross that bridge when he got there.
Yuri wasn't sure how advanced the Systems Alliance's FTL capabilities were, they claimed that it would take a few days to reach his location so he wasn't getting his hopes up.
Yuri suddenly heard light footsteps behind him, he frowned.
"You shouldn't be out here." He heard a yelp behind him. The Spartan turned around. It was the girl from earlier, the one whose mother he saved.
"I can't see you." She said nervously. She hesitantly took a step forward, almost falling backwards in fear as the massive soldier stood up to his full height. She stared at his impassive gold visor, but otherwise showed less fear than what the Spartan expected.
"You're a giant!" She exclaimed. "Why couldn't I see you?"
Yuri frowned, he didn't really know how to communicate with civilians. They were so casual with the way they spoke, much more casual than any marine he's ever seen. When it came to mission briefing or communication on the battlefield, Yuri can seamlessly communicate to fellow soldiers, giving instructions, orders and so on. All Spartans were capable of coordinating fellow soldiers, even if they didn't specialize in leadership. But this? This was so foreign.
"Practice." He rumbled calmly. He turned around and returned back to his crouching position.
"You must have had a lot of practice." She said mirthfully.
Yes
He saw her sit next to him out of the corner of his eye, which prompted him to inaudibly sigh.
"Why are you here?" She flinched slightly at his bluntness.
"I wanted to check on you, must be pretty lonely out here. I also wanted to thank you for the food." Six regarded her with a sideways glance. The first time he saw her she was unhealthily underweight, now she seems a little healthier. After securing the area around the camp, he returned with food that the Batarians had stored away. After confirming the food was safe to eat, he brought it back to the camp. They were grateful, but the Spartan did not want any appreciation for his actions.
He was only doing his duty.
"Are they still out there?" She whispered fearfully.
"Yes."
"Will they come back?"
"Possibly."
"Will they hurt us?"
He hesitated. "I won't allow that."
She smiled, an action that did not go unnoticed by Yuri.
"Thank you." She said. "We're grateful for what you're doing."
"I see."
There was silence once more. Yuri switched from night vision to thermal and zoomed in with his visor at a heat signature. He relaxed slightly as the heat signature belonged to a strange animal, reminiscent of deer back on Earth.
"What's your name by the way?"
Yuri paused. His name was the only thing from his previous life he had. To a Spartan, their names are important to them, only given to those that they have the utmost trust for. Also…
"Classified." The girl pouted.
"It's Six." He said after a moment's hesitation.
The girl looked at Six quizzically, before laughing.
"That's not your name."
"That's what I'm called."
The young girl regarded the Spartan's statement with a look of confusion, but it disappeared quickly.
"Well, my name is Kat."
Six froze. He closed his eyes as he thought about Noble Two. She was intelligent even by Spartan standards. She had a sardonic attitude and dry sense of humour which Yuri and the rest of Noble Team welcomed in the grim atmosphere of war. What little free time they had, she often challenged Yuri's knowledge in various topics, usually regarding electronics, jokingly scolding the Spartan whenever he was incorrect.
You couldn't hack a Covenant computer if your life depended on it.
He smiled, something that he did less and less.
Have you forgotten the time that I had to synthesize TNT for you because you forgot what a nitration reaction was?
She didn't like that.
He turned his head to the girl, and frowned.
What a coincidence.
"I see."
"You don't talk much do you?"
"No."
"That was rhetorical."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah it is."
The hyper lethal rolled his eyes. He frowned as he thought about the spook that he encountered. The one that slipped away. If he really is in a different galaxy, then who knows where that spook came from. Whoever he works for, they'll probably take an interest in the Spartan. These are uncharted territories for Yuri, as uncharted as it could possibly get. He needs to adapt quickly, or else he'll die. He needed to find out who the major players are here, what their motivations are and what their strengths and weaknesses are.
"I've heard a lot of people talking about you…" The girl-Kat-trailed off. "They think you are a robot… are you?"
Six smiled, if only slightly. The original Spartans were often mistaken for robots. Their fluid, precise movements, impossible reflexes, strength and intelligence, and the way they mechanically carried themselves. Even after the Human-Covenant War, many still believed the original Spartans to be machines and not humans.
"I'm human."
"I've never seen a human as big as you."
"I see."
"Is that all you're going to say?"
A shrug.
Kat pouted again. She looked at the ground, as if considering something, or perhaps lost in thought. Noble Six regarded her again. Even though he was irritated that she decided to leave the safety of the camp, her lively, child-like energy was a good sign to the Spartan. She was still innocent despite what she witnessed here.
The Kat that he knew wasn't so fortunate.
Yuri opened his mouth, but stopped.
What do I say?
"How… is your mother?"
Kat looked at the Spartan, surprised, she probably wasn't expecting the quiet man to start a conversation.
"She's much better now!" She said cheerily, taking the Spartan aback with her optimism. "Thank you again. I didn't think that she was going to…"
The Spartan watched as she choked back tears. His mind dug up memories of a child that wasn't so fortunate.
Yuri didn't know what to say to her, so he just nodded to her, prompting Kat to smile.
The Spartan felt his memories go way back again.
Yuri spent his entire childhood experiencing the torturous training needed to become a Spartan. He clenched his jaws as he remembered the horrific conditions they were put through, both mentally and physically. He remembered having to balance his studies with his military training. Learning physics, chemistry, calculus, history and a plethora of other subjects whilst simultaneously practicing military drills, tactics, weapons and so on. Most people would deem it an impossible task, and the Spartan remembered wanting to give up. For every second that he existed in the realm of the living, he wanted to die. It would have been so easy.
The training made him want to die, it made him wish that the Jiralhanae found him and tortured him to death the way they did his family. But his need for revenge, his anger, it pushed him beyond all reasonable limits to excel and become the soldier mankind needed him to be.
Would he do it all again?
Yes, he would, if only to make the Covenant suffer a hundred times more. He thought about them obsessively, always thinking about the next strategy, the next mission. Sometimes he failed, but he'd always recover and question what went wrong, what he could improve.
He'd kill obsessively. Over and over again like it's gone out of style.
Until he even enjoyed it.
Even now, years after the war ended, they still plague his mind.
After all this, he's forgotten how to feel. The only emotion he's ever known was anger, and even then it was an emotion he'd learn to control and direct towards his enemy. It wasn't something that would spontaneously burst through his rock solid facade.
The only thing Yuri knows is war. As a Spartan, he fights for three reasons.
One, in the defence of humanity.
Two, so that he may avenge his family, and those that needlessly perished.
Yuri slowly looked over to Kat, she gazed appreciatively at the countless stars that decorated the inky blackness of the night sky. She came perilously close to experiencing the inescapable fate that Yuri suffered during his childhood.
Three… so that humanity will never need soldiers like Yuri ever again.
"The sky is so beautiful." Kat whispered blissfully. "So many stars, too many to count."
Yuri regarded her curiously, not quite understanding why the girl seemed so enthralled.
She looked at the hulking Spartan. "Do you ever look up at the stars and think to yourself that the universe is beautiful?"
Yuri blinked. What a strange question. From what he's seen, the universe is an ugly place, filled with horrible abominations like the Covenant, Flood and the disgusting Promethean machines. The lone wolf realized that she had likely never seen such things. So perhaps it makes sense.
"No."
"Why not?" Kat appeared to be quite perplexed.
It was never mission critical.
He figured that that wouldn't make much sense to her so Yuri opted for an alternative response.
"I'm always busy."
"Don't soldiers ever get breaks?"
"I don't."
"But… why don't you?"
"My duty is different than for other soldiers."
"So what is your duty?"
"To protect all of humanity." The Spartan answered immediately after she asked her question, shocking the girl momentarily, before her expression became one of awe.
"That… sounds like a lot of responsibility. It must be stressful."
Six found the corner of his lip turning upwards ever so slightly. When he was more inexperienced he did feel that burden. It weighed down heavily on him from time to time, as it did for the rest of the Spartans.
"I got used to it."
She laughed quietly.
"I don't think that I could ever-" Kat was cut off as Yuri raised a gauntlet.
He narrowed his eyes as his visor zoomed in on a heat signature about a kilometer way.
He could easily make out the humanoid shape. There was no mistaking it.
A Batarian.
Six felt his body tense up, his breathing slowed down and he focused on the unaware creature.
More enemies of humanity. More enemies that needed to die.
The alien slowly crouched behind a bush, a moment later, several more joined him, followed by dozens.
This was their counterattack.
"What is it?" Kat inquired worriedly.
"Get back to the camp, and tell everyone to take cover." He said calmly.
"Are they here?!" She exclaimed, the panic evident in her voice.
"Yes, now go."
Yuri took a step forward, but stopped as he saw the girl desperately reach out for his arm.
"What are you doing!?"
"I will deal with them."
"But you're by yourself! You can't win against them on your own!"
Oh, if only she knew.
"They won't hurt you." He rumbled calmly.
"But-"
"Go." His voice was a decibel louder, and it spurred her into action.
Six moved quickly, yet silently. His weapons were ready and his plan has been determined.
They won't expect the Spartan to counterattack their counterattack.
Failure was something that took many forms, many degrees of intensity. It is something that all living things will experience in their lifetimes. Those that let their failures consume them will fall short along the path of life. Those that vanquish the burden of disappointment and the burden of shortcomings will see themselves increase their chances of persevering.
But for some, one may argue that the burden of a mistake is too instead of teaching one to grow, it teaches one that they will never grow.
Failing to pass an exam, failing to provide for one's own family, failing to make a living… failing to protect others.
Lieutenant Phoenix Hawkins remembered the day well. Cerberus terrorist attack that took place in Tokyo, believed to have targeted the credibility of Turian military units working with Alliance special forces to uncover the motives of a shadowy organization thought to have been employed by the Batarian Hegemony with the sole purpose of striking at weak points in the Human military.
They didn't know at the time that the organization was actually funded by Cerberus and was used to incite xenophobia among the human race. Classic Cerberus assholes. They wanted to incite distrust between Humanity, the Turians and the Batarians (what little trust Humanity had with the latter). Kill two birds with one stone.
Phoenix was a major at the time, and her battalion was at the forefront of the operation meant to clean out enemy resistance in the hellish close quarters environment. She thought that her plan would remove the hostile presence whilst minimizing friendly and civilian casualties.
She had supporting elements surrounding the section of the city under enemy control to prevent any enemies from slipping through while specialized CQB teams from her unit would sweep every street, every alley and every room to make sure the enemy was eliminated.
Only one problem.
They didn't have EOD teams in place to disarm traps or bombs. She had the choice to wait for backup and risk further civilian casualties, or go in unprepared.
She chose the latter.
Then came setback after setback, one brutal surprise after the other.
Besides the sheer quantity of booby traps, her plan ran off of too many assumptions. It didn't account for the sophisticated equipment her enemy possessed, nor their training.
Nor the mechs and makos the enemy managed to smuggle into warehouses that were purchased by an unknown third party that to this day remains a mystery. They now know it was Cerberus that used said third party, but they still don't know how.
The woman closed her eyes as the memories of the hellish battle went through her head again and again. Her fellow soldiers were shot, stabbed, blown up by traps, shredded by mechs, and so much more.
To say nothing of the civilians.
Marine casualties numbered in the dozens, civilian casualties numbered in the hundreds. They pulled her out, and it was only through the tactical genius of Commander John Shepard and his N7 teams that they were able to root out the enemy.
She became a disgraced officer. For months she was the target of brutal criticism and ridicule. She was the target of death threats, and so was her family.
It was only through a miracle that she was only demoted to that of first lieutenant.
For the longest time she had wanted to just lie down and die, shamed immensely by her failure as a soldier, and as a leader. People died because of her, because she wasn't good enough. If she was the brass, she'd have put herself in solitary for life. But here she was, five years later, still a soldier, and still in command of other soldiers.
She learned an important lesson that day; that no plan survives contact with the enemy, that every conceivable scenario, no matter how unlikely or how absurd, must be taken into consideration.
She won't make the same mistake twice. Never again.
That event changed her, her hatred of Cerberus, strong prior to the tragedy, skyrocketed to levels bordering on fanaticism according to her fellow servicemen and women.
It didn't matter, she had a job to do.
"Ma'am, you alright?"
The voice, its accent suggesting its owner to be of German descent, shook her from her thoughts. Sitting across from her was a large man, clad in standard marine armor. He was in the process of looking over the rifle in his lap before he noticed his commanding officer staring into space.
"I'm good, Gunther," she nodded. The man regarded her hesitantly with concerned blue eyes. He shrugged and returned to his work.
She looked around the cabin of the dropship. Around a dozen other marines were seated with her. Some were looking out of the small windows of the ship, some were quietly bantering with each other, and some were trying to rid themselves of the nervousness that always came before every mission.
The dropships they used could not fit an entire platoon, so her platoon had to be split between four dropships.
"Can you believe that one guy managed to take down an entire Batarian operation?"
"No Joel, I think that sounds like a load of bullshit. Not even a team of special forces can win against those odds in open combat."
"Well, whatever the case, some slaver scum are dead and innocents are safe, you're not gonna complain are you?"
A snort.
"Who said I was complaining? If it were up to me I'd spend my entire career killing those skull fuckers."
"Just saying."
It was all anyone could ever talk about. One man taking out hundreds of Batarians and freeing a bunch of slaves. She personally didn't believe it, especially because they are apparently human.
No matter how good the soldier, a human was a human, limited by what their bodies could do.
No such thing as one man armies.
Whatever the case, they were heading down there right now. Her dropship was one among dozens currently being screened by air support and orbital surveillance.
As her ship descended towards the landing zone, the faint sounds of gunfire and explosions caused her and the rest of the marines to sit up straight and tense slightly.
"Well, looks like we'll actually get to kill those sons of bitches." One of the voices from earlier spoke, Phoenix turned to the left and locked eyes briefly with a grinning dark-skinned man.
"We, not you Marcus." She said with a knowing grin. "You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn from the inside." Several of the occupants chuckled.
"Ah hell, lieutenant." The platoon sergeant moaned in exasperation.
"Don't worry, Marcus, you'll get your chance." Chimed in another voice on the left of Marcus, a small, wiry man by the name of Joel.
She heard Marcus mutter something along the lines of I fucking better.
She looked out of the window and saw, from kilometers up, tracers zipping through a forest at unbelievable speeds, easy to see as they contrasted with the darkness that shrouded the rest of the forest despite the sunrise. She saw fires haphazardly littered throughout the forest and the occasional flash of an explosion.
The gunfire, however, looked one sided. She only saw tracers coming in from one side, and no discernable return fire. The spectacle reminded Phoenix almost of a meteor shower; countless streaks of light zipping across a dark canvas at screaming fast speeds.
Who would have thought that something so beautiful could bring about so much death and suffering?
One of the universe's many paradoxes, she thought.
The marine suddenly jumped in her seat as her comms came to life with the same noises she was hearing from below her. A quick glance around the shuttle told her that everyone else was experiencing the same thing.
A voice spoke. It was deep, powerful, authoritative and mechanical in its nature.
"This is Sierra B312, hostiles are converging on captives, requesting air support on IR strobes. Danger close, repeat, danger close." The calm voice that seemed to rumble like a thunderstorm sent a shiver down her spine.
The sounds of battle died down to the faint cacophony heard from below, and there was a brief silence aboard the shuttle.
"Is that the guy?!" Exclaimed one of the marines. "Dude sounds like he could eat a krogan for breakfast, what the fuck!"
"Must be special forces, those guys are rock solid." Said Gunther calmly as he looked out of his viewport.
"No way." Said Joel. "Those guys are beasts but they're still human. That guy sounded so… robotic. That's not a normal reaction to combat."
Phoenix found herself agreeing with the man. She's taken part in joint operations with some badass special forces units, decades long veterans. Even they had some emotion to show for when in battle.
It just further supported the rumour that whatever was giving the Batarians hell is actually a mech and not a human.
As the sounds of battle increased in intensity, a sudden monsoon of air to surface ordinance washed over the Batarians. The marine lieutenant felt her shuttle shake slightly from the shockwave. Phoenix was impressed with how quickly the air support responded considering they were being contacted by an unknown faction.
One glance out the window told her all she needed to know.
The Batarians were fucked. An entire section of the forest was covered in massive clouds of dust kicked up by the massive airstrike. She only heard a few gunshots here and there, but it seemed that only stragglers would be left to put down by the time they were boots on the ground.
"Fuck." Said a dejected Marcus. "Just when I thought we were gonna have an interesting day."
There were a few murmurs of agreement, but nothing more was said.
"ETA to LZ is thirty seconds." Said the pilot.
Phoenix readied her rifle, as did the rest of her soldiers. The thirty seconds took longer than what one would expect. But when they touched down, Phoenix was the first out.
She rushed into the morning sunlight and shouldered her rifle, sweeping it this way and that, looking for any potential hostiles.
The rest of her troops formed a loose circle around their dropship, which promptly took off and headed back to its mothership.
"All clear!" Phoenix announced over the platoon comms.
She waited as each member of her unit announced that their respective sectors were also clear. In the distance, she could hear additional marine platoons cleaning up stragglers.
The lieutenant listened to the command frequency, as platoon leaders commented on their progress in securing the area. Curiously, she noted their confusion at the fact that they could not find whoever the Batarians were engaged with.
Maybe they were killed before the marines arrived?
That would have been a shame, Phoenix had been wanting to meet these people. To figure out who was behind this.
As Phoenix kept her head on a swivel, she briefly took in the rays of sunlight passing through the trees as night gave way to day. Fires were still visible throughout the forest and plums of smoke rose lazily into the air.
She could hear the occasional shots being traded between the marines and Batarian survivors, the latter of which were fighting a losing battle against a superior force.
It only took a few minutes for the marines to clear out the survivors. Once they did, they cautiously made their way to what was supposed to be the location of the captives. Phoenix's platoon along with a second platoon were the first to go while the other troops acted as a rear guard since the Batarians attacked in the opposite direction they were headed.
Leaving their rear open is just asking to be flanked and killed.
The marine veteran glanced to her right at the imposing complex in the distance, and whistled in admiration.
"Batarians really went all out with this place."
"Yeah, probably got a jacuzzi, a bar, the whole nine yards." Marcus chuckled.
"I'm sure the loss of this base will piss them off big time. No telling how many resources they put into building this place." Replied Phoenix.
"Definitely more than we thought they had." Said Joel with what sounded like a hint of respect.
It was a respect directed to their capabilities, definitely not their motives or their morales. It was something Phoenix and her fellow marines learned years ago during bootcamp; always respect the capabilities of your enemy. It gives you an appreciation of what they can do. Not taking an enemy seriously is a death sentence, a mistake that no one should be willing to make.
She shook herself from her bootcamp memories as they slowly made their way to a series of thick bushes that obscured their view of whatever lay ahead. The marines kept their weapons trained at the foliage, ready in the case of an ambush.
At this rate, the possible ambush position was only fifty meters in front of them. An ambush at this range would spell disaster for the marines.
Phoenix heard her comms turn on suddenly, and that same voice spoke again.
"This is Sierra B312, all hostile elements confirmed eliminated. Friendly moving to your north, check fire." Phoenix felt a shiver run down her spine again, several of the marines gave each other uneasy glances; not quite knowing what to expect.
"You heard him, check fire to the north." Phoenix ordered. "Hold position." Their north was the thick foliage. She wasn't going to risk a trap by bringing her troops too close to the concealed positions. She also didn't want to risk the other side opening fire on her troops should they mistake them for hostiles.
"Shit, I don't like this." Said Marcus. "We're right in the open."
"Sabre 1-1 do you have visual on approaching unknowns to our north?" Said Phoenix, eyes never once leaving her gun sights.
"Negative Dagger 2-1. Heat signatures confirm the presence of the captives five hundred meters to your north, however we can't pick up anything else."
Phoenix raised an eyebrow, air support's thermals can't pick up any heat signatures? How?
"You think he's messing with us? Trying to deceive us while he and his buddies reposition and get the drop on us?"
"Unknown, focus Joel." She ordered firmly.
The next thing that happened shocked the woman to her core.
For a few seconds there seemed to be no noise. The sound of the gentle breeze died down, so did the rustling of leaves and even the chirping of birds. The unnatural silence was deafening, and the marine lieutenant felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
The rest of her troops looked uneasy, but no one voiced their concerns, for fear of being unable to properly react to whatever was about to reveal itself from beyond the concealed position.
The next few seconds felt like hours, Phoenix had the feeling that they were being lied to, that there wasn't anything out there.
She was wrong.
Like a ghost, something materialized out of the brush, appearing to manifest itself out of thin air.
She didn't know how she didn't see or hear the rustling of the leaves, how there was no foreshadowing of its arrival. It just… appeared.
So fluid and graceful were its movements that it seemed to change states of matter from a melted shadow to a solid humanoid figure.
Phoenix heard several of the marines curse in disbelief.
The first thing that the woman noticed was the size of this humanoid entity. It was easily seven feet tall, towering over even the six foot four frame of Gunther. Phoenix was five foot ten, fairly tall for a woman. But compared to this unknown, she appeared but a child in stature.
The bulky armor it wore was jet black, and looked more like something a mech would have equipped rather than a supposed human. It had several utility pouches attached to its waistline as well as what looked like some armored compartments on its thighs.
She noticed that the mysterious figure had equipped with it some familiar mass accelerator weapons and several weapons that she's never seen before. The mass accelerator rifle it carried looked like a toy in its mammoth hands.
It slowly moved towards the platoon and stopped no less than thirty meters in front of the marines. She noticed its head slowly scanning over her fellow soldiers, sizing them up.
"Who is the commanding officer of this unit?" It spoke through the comms of every single marine in front of it, not at all intimidated by the two platoon's worth of marines with half readied weapons.
The marines all looked uneasy, intimidated even. Despite their clear numerical advantage, something felt… off, about this thing. Phoenix felt her fight or flight system kick in, she got an intense sense of danger from the thing in front of her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before she stepped forward.
"That would be me." She said. She tentatively walked towards the giant, and it slowly walked towards her.
The veteran soldier noticed with a hint of awe that even as it walked, its movements were unnaturally graceful and fluid, too precise to be human yet still too graceful to belong to a mech. It seemed to glide along the ground rather than walk.
It was unnerving.
As they slowly closed the distance between each other, Phoenix felt her heart rate increase.
She was scared.
She rarely got scared but everything about this humanoid figure felt wrong. Its dimensions, its design, the way it spoke and the way it moved.
It was mysterious, and people often fear that which they deem mysterious.
She had two entire platoons of marines behind her and air support at the ready yet even that wasn't enough to make her feel safe. She used her training, tried her damndest to quell her fear.
She was only marginally successful.
It was when the two were within ten meters of one another that they stopped. She looked the humanoid up and down, not quite believing just how sophisticated of an armor system she was looking at.
She had trouble believing it to be human. She damn well knew that the Systems Alliance or Cerberus couldn't even come close to developing an infantry armor system such as the one she was looking at right now.
Then again, even if this was a mech, who could field the resources necessary to produce such a machine of war?
She looked at the golden visor, with its strange hexagonal pattern. She felt a pair of eyes from beneath that cold, emotionless visor scanning her physical being, sizing her up, analyzing her like a science experiment to figure out how she ticked.
Phoenix felt the fear return.
"Lieutenant Spartan B312." He said, startling the veteran marine. "UNSC ONI branch, navspecwar subdivision." She cocked her head. She had been told that this guy came from a faction calling itself the 'UNSC'. She thought it was a load of shit.
Guess not.
"Lieutenant Phoenix Hawkins, Systems Alliance, eighty second marine division." She said, mustering as much confidence as she possibly could.
It nodded.
"Are Spartans supposed to be special forces?"
"Affirmative." He replied mechanically.
"Human?"
A nod.
Not much of a talker then.
"Are you alone?"
"Yes ma'am." It spoke, surprising her with his formality.
"I find it hard to believe that you could have taken on this many Batarians on your own." She said accusedly, somehow forgetting her initial fears.
"I understand. I am willing to discuss the events in the past few days once the captives are secure."
The reminder of the captives resulted in Phoenix pushing aside her further questions and reverting back to the professionalism only a soldier could possess.
"Understood, lead the way and we'll be right behind you." Said Phoenix, trying to muster as much confidence as possible.
"On me marines." The large unit slowly and cautiously moved towards her and the 'Spartan', still wary of the armored behemoth.
None of the marines spoke as they moved past the brush and into a relatively open field. From this distance, she could see the large camp.
As they continued to walk, she noticed something else about their armored tour guide. His footsteps produced no sound.
She stared at his back in bafflement. Considering all of the armor and his stature, he has to weigh at least a thousand pounds, yet he was completely silent. Even as Phoenix strained her ears in an attempt to pick up anything, she couldn't. The marine lieutenant shuddered at such an unnatural sight.
She glanced at some of her marines, and noticed the same expressions of astonishment.
"How did you manage to wipe out the Batarians alone then, if you didn't have any help?" She inquired.
"Shock and awe." It rumbled mechanically.
She raised an eyebrow in confusion. Not only at the disappointingly short and vague answer, but also the answer itself. Shock and awe means engaging the enemy with overwhelming force that is applied quick enough that they can't react to form a meaningful defence. The purpose is to destroy the enemy's ability to analyze the battlefield and to crush their will to fight. The Blitzkrieg tactics applied by the Third Riech during the Second World War is a perfect example of such tactics.
Phoenix and her fellow marines studied this type of warfare during their training. One application they practiced numerous times was breaching and clearing buildings. Breaching charges, flashbangs and a fast paced assault by well trained soldiers can put most defenders in a state of panic. Usually they'd employ twenty to thirty soldiers just to clear five or so hostiles out of a building.
But the way this guy said it, made it look like he bulldozed his way through dozens of Batarians, slaughtering them to the last.
Sounded more like an action movie than reality.
"Not sure if I believe that." She said."But whatever the case, you did good work here, those scum deserve to be put down."
"Affirmative." He responded. His tone of voice never changed from that mechanical calmness. Even in the middle of that firefight, when he was requesting air support, his tone was the same. It only further supported her hypothesis that this wasn't a man, just a machine pretending to be a man.
"We'll send in more assets and search the planet for whatever is left. There may be additional slave camps."
"I request to join your forces in eliminating the Batarians." Phoenix raised her eyebrows in surprise.
He wants to help us?
His sense of duty is definitely something else, to be so willing to jump into battle with a faction unknown to him to save more captives. The marine veteran can certainly respect and even admire that.
"I appreciate the offer but my orders are to bring you to my superiors." She said. To be honest, she wanted to bring him along and see what he could do. This 'Spartan' definitely looked like he could kick some ass. But then there was the issue of how well would he work with her marines? Different tactics and military doctrines could get in the way of a cohesive unit. What good is having an exceptionally powerful asset if it can properly coordinate with the rest of your forces?
The behemoth only nodded, and said nothing more.
As they got closer to the camp. She could make out the silhouettes of humans, asari and even a few turians slowly coming out of their makeshift huts. Her face morphed into one of disgust and anger at the conditions these people were put through.
Small makeshift huts made of rusted sheet metal and a disgusting muddy and wet landscape that looked like the Western Front of the First World War. The victims looked like they wore the same clothes they had on since before they were captured by the Batarians.
But then her face morphed into one of surprise, then happiness.
They were cheering.
There were maybe about two hundred of them now, cheering happily, like nothing else in the universe mattered, as if all of their suffering never happened, and that made her happy.
She stopped next to the armored behemoth, they turned to meet each other, gold visor meeting brown eyes. She didn't know anything about this newcomer, whether he was a man or a machine. She didn't know who he was, where he hailed from or what his motives are. But she knew one thing; he was a soldier, a soldier that protected innocents, and that was something that suddenly put her slightly at ease.
She smiled at the faceless warrior, noticing his head cocking to the side slightly, as if confused.
"Well alright marines!" She said enthusiastically. "Let's free these people and bring them home! Dagger 2-2, pull security. Dagger 2-1, get these people outta there!"
She watched as members of her platoon went to usher the people out of those cramped confines while the other platoon went to form a defensive perimeter around the camp.
Minutes later, more shuttles arrived on scene, carrying additional marines, medical personnel, as well as additional supplies.
She made for one of the paramedics getting out of the shuttle.
"Make sure to screen every last one of them." She ordered. "No telling how many injured are among their number."
"Yes ma'am." He said. He looked over her shoulder and widened his eyes. "That the guy?"
Phoenix turned around. He was now a good distance away from her, but even then his size was a sight to behold. Marines and medical personnel gave him a wide berth as they passed the silent giant, who stood still like a statue, just watching the scene in front of him.
The sunlight reflected off of his armor making him look almost like a mythical knight originating from some kind of fairytale.
"Yep." She said with a smile." I might not trust him but the guy's a hero as far as I'm concerned."
The paramedic chuckled. "Sounds more like a superhero, if you want to believe the rumours."
"Yeah…"
The man excused himself, and quickly rushed off to tend to his duties.
She didn't want to believe it, but maybe the rumours are true. Could this guy have really soloed an entire Batarian fortress? The more she thought about it, the more it messed with her head, her perception of reality. She was always taught to stick with her team, that a lonely soldier is a dead one.
She'd often have nightmares about being alone, trapped behind enemy lines. It was every soldier's worst nightmare. Even with her entire platoon at her back, she knew they couldn't take out an entrenched force like this.
To think that this one newcomer could accomplish what an entire platoon of well trained and well equipped marines could not was just mind bending.
"Lieutenant." She turned to her left, and looked up at Gunther.
"What do you think of him, Gunther?" She asked. The large, quiet man's opinions weighed heavily upon his peers, and every marine respected him greatly. She often came to him for his opinion. It came in handy more times than she could count.
"He's an unknown that claims to be human and claims to be of a faction that no one has ever heard of before. We don't know his true motives either, so we should be careful around him. But, he is a soldier, just like us. He fights to protect civilians, even if it means putting himself in danger. If he is indeed a man, then I believe that speaks volumes of his character."
She looked at him inquisitively. "Final verdict?"
"We keep an eye on him, and respect him the way we'd respect any other soldier. We respect his motives as a soldier and respect his capabilities. He can be an ally or enemy, and we control half of that outcome."
Lieutenant Hawkins nodded, satisfied with the answer.
Phoenix noticed Joel making his way over to her and nodded towards the man.
"We going to move into the complex soon?" He said.
"Soon." Phoenix replied. "Our top priority right now is to get these people the proper care they need and then get 'em the hell out of here." He nodded.
"Where's Marcus?" Gunther inquired in a manner that suggested he already knew the answer.
Joel smiled. "Took a squad with him to try and find Batarian survivors."
Phoenix rolled her eyes, but chuckled. The gung ho marine was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, though sometimes we could get a little impatient.
"Excuse me for a minute." Phoenix said.
She made her way to the large man.
"Six! Six!"
Hawkins stopped when, with no small amount of shock, she saw a young girl, probably fourteen or fifteen years old, approach the Spartan excitedly.
"Kat." He acknowledged with a nod.
"You did it! I can't believe you actually did it!"
"I told you they won't hurt you."
Phoenix's face softened a bit. That small amount of emotion there… he really isn't a machine, is he?
"You did!"
"You should go back to your mother. The Systems Alliance will take you home."
Phoenix watched as the young girl's face fell a little.
"You think I'll get to see you again?"
"That is unlikely."
The marine lieutenant watched as the girl's face became one of sadness. She was surprised that a kid could approach such an intimidating figure without fear.
"Well, I just want to thank you again. You saved us all, and I know that none of us could repay you for that."
"There is no need." He said. "I was doing my duty."
The girl smiled brightly. "No matter what anyone says about you, I just want you to know that you're a hero, you're my hero."
Phoenix smiled, touched by the heartwarming moment.
She stepped forward and hugged the massive soldier. Her thin, delicate arms didn't even come close to wrapping around the armored behemoth's bulk.
She watched, with an amused expression, as the armored behemoth flinched slightly, as if the idea of a hug was so foreign to him.
He stood there for a few seconds looking confused, as if he had no idea what to do. Several of the captives and Systems Alliance personnel stopped what they were doing, and watched the spectacle unfold with smiles on their faces.
After a lengthy hesitation, the soldier slowly, awkwardly placed a hand on her back, and she released the man known only as 'Six'.
"Goodbye!" She said, with watery eyes. He nodded.
"Kat." He said. The girl stopped, surprised, she turned around and looked at him expectedly.
"Take care of yourself."
She smiled. "You too, big guy."
Phoenix watched as the young girl disappeared into the crowd of formerly disheartened and downtrodden captives. She noticed 'Six' staring at the crowd for a few seconds longer, before shifting his attention to the distant fortress.
She watched the walking enigma curiously. A machine wouldn't have been able to befriend a kid. This soldier may be stoic as a rock, but as long as there is some humanity in a person, there exists something that allows that person to relate to all other humans.
There was a great contrast between the two. One was young, naive, innocent and full of life. The other is older, more weathered. Innocence and humanity stripped away through war. Phoenix was a soldier, she knew when someone has fought for too long, seen too much, lost more than most people can ever hope to comprehend.
The large soldier turned to acknowledge her. He nodded.
"Once we're done here, we'll sweep the fortress for possible survivors and any intel we can dig up. A shuttle will take you up to one of our ships and we'll take you to a colony where you can discuss your situation with the higher ups, sound good?"
No response, not even a nod. It was as if he didn't even hear her.
Just when Phoenix was about to open her mouth, he spoke. The words that came out of his mouth made her heart jump in anticipation of what's to come.
"Are you aware of a third party operating in this theatre?"
Hey guys, finally finished this chapter. A little nervous about this one because I'm not too sure how good it really is. I guess I'll let you guys determine that. I'm also worried that maybe I haven't been giving the Normandy crew enough of a spotlight so I'm definitely going to be reevaluating that. Also, to clear up any confusion about the summary, I'm not "fixing" it because it is intentional. In my story, Six has encountered the Flood with the Chief. I'll get into that later though I'm not sure when. I'm having trouble doing long term planning for this story so I'm going to try and improve that in preparation for the coming chapters. Not much else to say. I really hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know how I did and please criticize any mistakes you think I made or anything I can improve (in a mature manner of course). Take care!