Chapter 11. We Preserve The Light
2130 CE, Unclaimed World 'Tunea-Prime'
The shaking when a transport broke atmosphere at high speeds was something one never quite got used to, sure some didn't show it as much as others but deep down everyone had the thought that the craft would give in to the force causing the soldiers inside it to burn up along its wreckage. Saren clutched his rifle a little bit tighter as the rattling moved up to his teeth and he pressed himself into the seat. At least the speed of deployment lowered the chance of the shuttle simply being shot down by surface-to-air weapons. If it meant getting to the ground in one piece, Saren could endure the unpleasant way down.
The turian shuttle began to slow down and Saren's direct superior, Kabalim Vitallion, removed his harness and grabbed a sling attached to the ceiling of the crew compartment with one hand before pulling himself up. Following his example the rest of the unit undid the locks on the devices keeping them in place and prepared to leave the craft.
Turian doctrine was rather clear on air deployments, in order to minimize the time in the landing zone and exposure to enemy fire, the shuttle would not even touch down unless the area was already cleared, instead only flying along the ground at a height that would allow the troops it was carrying a rather safe drop. This had the advantage of the craft being able to immediately begin a sharp climb, away from any potential fire or the risk of blowing the soldiers it had just dropped up along side itself in the event of a hit.
In accordance to said doctrine, Saren jumped out of the door as his helmet blocked the bright light of the sun rising in the distance. His feet touched the ground and the cabals rallied to their squad leader as he heard the whine of a frigate's air brakes deploying to allow the mechanized support to drop. The duo of Jiris IFVs dropped out of the hangar of the frigate just as another began a similar maneuver. Their perimeter security was moving into position.
The cabals began to rally around their leader and Saren could make out the outlines of tents, colonial prefabs and vehicles on the hill ahead. The position was chosen well, the hill would allow the defenders to pin anyone that tried to take it from them in the barren land around it. A barren land that had been created by force if the ashes around the camp and the few remaining tree stumps were anything to go by.
"Orbital scans show no explosives on the climb, heat signature scan on the camp is inconclusive." Vitallion informed his squad as they joined him at the line of trees which had survived the forceful clearing, his armor already slightly blacker due to the wind transporting ash into their direction.
"The clearings fresh," Bassilo said as placed a hand on the black stained ground. "It's still hot," he withdrew the palm as he undid the seal on his helmet. "Does anyone else smell this?"
"Like someone welded two plates of metal," another cabal said as he revealed his green marked, grey-plated face to the air and distinctive smell.
"Strange," Bassilo replied. "Doesn't smell like any explosive I ever encountered. Kabalim?"
"We'll be the second squad to cross, time to focus," Vitallion replied as he lifted his rifle to look at the camp and the way ahead of them. "I don't like this. Suggestions?"
"This reeks like an ambush, Kabalim," one of the cabals interjected as he took position to cover the first squad. This was one of the things Saren liked about serving in a special purpose unit, the individual soldier was able to discuss matters with their leaders. Regulars were simply expected to fall in line with their superiors. The cabals had to rely on every set of eyes, their assignments required as much.
"Aganian's right," Hepsus said. "Inconclusive heat scan, kill zone, I'd rather call a couple Jiris to take point."
"Can't do that, they are bound to perimeter security. We can't do our job if they just shoot us in the back. Especially because the scan of the camp sight turned out inconclusive we can't risk it," Vitallion explained.
"Slow advance with full powered barriers?" another cabal proposed. "If we draw fire, we can hunker down while we eliminate the threat. Since there's nothing buried on the way to the camp, we won't get blown up while walking up."
"But we'd spent a lot of time in the killzone, if the enemy has anti-biotic weapons we'd be annihilated."
"Kabalim Vitallion, this is Kabalim Barscus," the leader of the first squad that would cross voiced. "We are preparing to cross the clearing, are your soldiers in position?"
"Affirmative Barscus," Vitallion replied as Saren turned his attention back to his rifle and away from the discussion. Kneeling down usually had the advantage of stabilizing one's aim, yet he found himself somewhat shaking as the image of a single black patch with a golden Mexta visualized itself in his brain.
"Anything on your mind?" Hepsus asked from his left, adjusting the sights on his Phaeston.
"It's nothing," Saren said after a moment, choosing to stay quite. After all it was simply a mistake, a wrong turn in his personal, very unsanctioned investigation.
The cabals of Barscus's squad began to move away from the tree line and Saren saw their dark grey armors glimmering in the light of the sun rise. The unit advanced slowly but steadily under the cover of their allies and began the climb.
"If they are going to launch an ambush, it's going to happen now," Vitallion said. His words caused Saren to tense up, expecting the universe to reward said statement with a hidden explosion and the death of the entire squad.
The universe only delivered one of these events.
A detonation rocked the forest behind Saren as his radio came to live, the line originating from the perimeter security.
"We got contact. One Jiris down," the commander of the mechanized element informed him just as the sound of heavy mass accelerator fire echoed through the forest as the IFVs returned fire, their target not visible to Saren due to the trees blocking his line of sight.
"Cabals continue with the attack on the camp," the overall commander, he himself within the safety of the Silus' hull, ordered. "5th Mechanized will deal with the ambush on their own."
Yet another explosion followed by a casualty report drowned out anything else he had to say. "Spirits what is that thi-," the line was replaced by static.
"Kabali-" Bassilo began.
"You heard the Colonel, we continue the mission," he shot the interruption down and Saren tore his eyes away from the smoke clouds rising above their perimeter security.
"This is Barscus, we've reached the edge," Saren spotted the grey kabalim and his squad waiting at a wall of one of the bigger prefabs of the camp. "Lot of smoke above 5th." he informed them.
"Copy that, we'll cross now," the Kabalim replied. "Alright third squad, double time it!" he ordered and Saren shot to his feet, following his leader across the clearing as fast as his legs would carry him. The cabals cleared the killzone in record time and Saren turned around and took a knee, finally able to see the smoke rising behind them.
"The remaining two squads should get up here as fast as possible." he heard Vitallion inform the leader of their platoon, Lieutenant Kamur. "Affirmative." he replied to the unheard voice on the restricted command channel. "We're going into the camp now, the other half of the platoon are moving to assist 5th."
"I though they could handle it?" Hepsus questioned.
"Cut the trash talk, cabal. Barscus you'll clear this prefab, we'll move around the tents," Vitallion ordered the younger Kabalim who gave his elder a nod before his squad prepared to break down the door.
The sound of the battle their perimeter security was currently fighting was once more dominated by an explosion of an unfortunate Jiris and Saren could make out the weapon that had fired the shot, a red-black smoke trail still visible from a plateau situated in front of the rising sun, a well chosen position, even with the light blocking visors, the height and sun would give the shooters enough time to withdraw.
Saren saw how mass accelerator fire smashed into the very same spot the missile had just appeared from.
Or not.
A smirk crossed his face as he felt satisfied at the notion of the crew being avenged.
He moved behind Hepsus as the squad of cabals turned the corner of the prefab and began to move up to the several tents located between this prefab and the smaller one on the other end of the camp. He pointed his Phaeston at the first tent as Hepsus tore it open.
"Empty." he declared so his squad would hear him before moving inside. A single field bed and some bottles of water and cans of food were the only things visible inside the tent as of right now. However Hepsus, experienced by past raids, pulled the covers of the bed and bent down to look underneath it, his Phaeston pointing at the gap between bed and ground.
He reached for something under the bed and Saren saw him pull out the helmet of a turian, red marks drawn on the side.
"Why would they leave that here, if they are going to attack us?" Saren asked him as Hepsus threw the object on the bed before pulling out an old Mantis sniper rifle.
"This doesn't make any sense," Hepsus says as he produced a bandoleer of grenades from the hidden stash of weapons. "Kabalim Vitallion, I'm looking at a small arsenal over here."
"Not just you," his superior radioed back. "I'm currently facing a batarian gunship, hidden in an underground hangar. Beaten up but still functional."
"Why aren't they using this stuff?"
"No fuel maybe?" Vitallion replied. "Keep searching."
The two moved out of the tent just as Bassilo and another cabal left theirs.
"This is beyond weird," Bassilo's partner replied.
"No kidding," Aganian muttered as he emerged from a third tent and set a beaten but very much functional heavy machine gun to the ground. "This is a lot of hardware that should be used right now."
"You heard the Kabalim, keep searching," Bassilo said as he pointed at another, bigger tent. "Let's make our way through there."
"Third squad be advised," Barscus suddenly radioed. "We've got dead pirates behind the prefab. Claw marks, lots of blue blood. Watch out for wild life."
"Maybe they got attacked by their own varren? Pirates like to use them for terror tactics, could be they forgot to feed them? " Aganian suggested as he pointed his Phaeston at the tent fabric Saren tore open. The four cabals moved inside and found a bigger sleeping area, equally devoid of any life. Repeating the process, they began searching the most obvious hiding spots and once more found weapons that should be used against them. and armor any reasonable fighter would put on before engaging a turian force.
"Perimeter security is reporting that the enemy is drawing back," Vitallion's voice said as the battle noises disappeared from the air. "Arterius, Bassilo and Aganian I want you at the prefab, the rest keep searching the tents."
"Casualties?" Bassilo asked as he ditched an assault rifle to the ground on his way out of the tent.
"Three Jiris out of the fight, seven wounded, nine dead," the Kabalim replied. "Six of the dead are crewmen." he explained.
"Damn," Hepsus asked. "If you find someone," he said as he kicked a helmet decorated with a rather badly drawn batarian skull with his foot. "Make them pay."
Saren gave him a nod before he followed the other two cabals out of the opening they had created minutes before. The squad moved through the camp, the air now eerily silent compared to before, making their way to the prefab at which Kabalim Vitallion and another cabal were already waiting for them. Saren threw one glance back to the forest, the smoke now black and thick in the air, and turned away just as evacuation shuttles broke through the clouds above.
"Not our battle right now, Saren," Bassilo said. "You're sure that there's nothing on your mind?"
"Just surprised," Saren said, technically not lying. "Honestly, I expected us to be the one's getting engaged."
"That's the purpose of an ambus,." Aganian chuckled dryly as he aimed his Phaeston at the window on the side of the prefab that was facing them, Saren himself keeping his eyes on the tents on their way. The smaller prefab, quite like the one they had originally taken cover behind, looked run down. An old, batarian model in use for centuries, the rather resilient building surely had seen better days. The brown paint appeared to have been beaten by the weather on this world, spots of the grey metal underneath visible where the paint job was starting to break away, one of its windows had been sealed with a large metal plate, presumably to cover a destroyed glass panel, and there were several dents in its side. The door was half-open, an orange glowing circle informing anyone on the outside of the fact that the locking mechanism was supposed to be in place, and as far as he could tell the lights inside were either defunct or turned off.
"Aganian, the door," Vitallion ordered as the turian cabals stacked up in front of it. The soldier did as he was told and lifted his left arm, his omni-tool coming to life as it linked itself with the locking mechanism.
"The locks are a bust," he said. "Nothing to override here. We could just force it open."
"Do it," the Kabalim said as he stepped next to the turian and pointed his own Phaeston at the door while Bassilo moved behind him, covering the other angle. When both where in position, Aganian began to radiate biotic energy and soon after the doors began to move as he decreased the mass of the metal blockade while pushing it open with all his might until the doors opened completely. The cabal stepped inside, looking to each side before waving them in.
"Clear the first floor, Bassilo cover the staircase," Vitallion ordered as the squad moved into the prefab with practiced speed. Saren and the other cabal which had already been with Vitallion came to a halt in front of one of the rooms of the prefab, the door to this one still open. He felt the hand of the soldier behind him tap him on the back and stepped into the room, finding it to be the one which had its window replaced by a metal plate. His helmet allowed him to see in spite of the terrible lighting conditions and when nothing appeared in front of his rifle, he twisted right to check the rest of the small room.
Nothing.
The room itself looked like it had been inhabited by someone that, unlike the pirates, understood the concept of order. The field bed was neatly made, the thermal blanket folded in a way all to familiar to Saren, and besides the destroyed window, the room was in a surprisngly good condition.
"Haliat was here," the younger turian said to the cabal who had entered with him.
"No doubt there," he replied as he lowered his rifle and nodded at the desk, the familiar eye piece sitting next to a disassembled and polished Phaeston, the cleaning equipment still sitting under a desk lamp right next to a terminal.
A personal terminal.
"I'm going to take a look at that," Saren said as he moved up to the desk, his fellow cabal silenced by the determination in his steps. He flicked on the lamp and turned on the terminal
"I'm getting the Kabalim," he said as Saren ignored the soldier, his curiosity getting the better of him. He brought up his omni-tool, prepared to try and hack the device but found it still unlocked.
"It's got some video logs on it," he said to himself, not drawing the attention of the other cabal as he walked out of the room.
The first log was dated roughly three weeks ago, as far as Saren knew Haliat had still been a loyal soldier back then. He started the recording and a brown plated turian, the green facial marks of someone born on Taetrus clearly visible on the screen, appeared. The background looked like that of any crew quarter on any ship in the turian navy. However the armor rack visible in the background, showcasing a set that did not look anything like the telltale Havoc-armor of the Armiger Legion, was very different from anything in the turian navy.
"Fedorian suggested I should start doing this, to 'keep track of my deeds for future books', said his brother is already doing it. Damn political ambitions.'" the turian chuckled. "It's not like I can actually ever release this so I guess I'm doing this for my own amusement," his mandibles twitched into a smirk as someone in the background shouted something Saren didn't quite understand. "Today we got a new order. We're moving into the Hades Gamma. Rumor has it that the batarians dug something up on Jartar, some kind of prothean data cache. Basic reconnaissance," the turian expalined. "The things on the pictures our source sent us didn't look like anything prothean I've ever seen." A voice in the background interrupted him again, this time clearly stating that Haliat was no archeologist, no matter how many asari students he bedded. "Shut up Vakarian!" the green plated turian laughed as a turian hand formed into a rather clear, obscene gesture, appeared in the background from one of the bunks. "They weren't as angular, smoother really. And purple. They were purple, not the usual black you're used to. But who am I to judge what's prothean and what's not? We know next to nothing about them after all," he lingered in his thoughts for a moment, his hands playing with a military talon absent minded. "I think that's all I got today, gonna hit the bunks now."
The recording froze there as Haliat ended it. The second recording was dated a few days later, still before Haliat's betrayal as far as Saren was aware. He pressed play and listened.
"Deployed to Jartar today, turns out we weren't the only one's who our source worked for." Haliat said, a fresh wound now added to his scarred face. "Pirates got there before us, killed the batarian team and took whatever it was they were guarding with them. Got into a pretty nasty fire fight as well, the bastards threw themselves at us to slow us down. Never seen anything like it among their kind. Interrogated one of the wounded they left behind and got a tracker on their shuttle right as they left. We'll go after them as soon as our ship gets to their base," he said and turned leaned back in the chair, revealing the very same sigil Saren had previously seen during his investigation on the grey under suit Haliat was wearing at the time of the recording, the black shield with the golden Mexta.
Blackwatch.
Saren swallowed as Haliat stared at the ceiling. "Vakarian took a phasic round through his dominant arm, poor bastard," the turian went on, sounding almost detached from the violence. "Killed the shooter but he won't be in fighting shape for a couple months, the round did a lot of damage, he's still in surgery. Gonna raid the pirate's base without him," the officer sighed. "Spirits, this one might actually end his career for real this time. Anyways, other than that I got not a lot to talk about." the turian said as his mandibles clicked into a smirk. "Funny that after twelve years, I'm still impressed at the things our guys can do. That shot should've been impossible. Vakarian nailed the guy right between his four ugly eyes," Haliat moved his hand to his face and pointed a finger between his two, yellow eyes. "Damn impressive," the turian sat up back in his chair. "Ah right," he said to himself, "There is one more thing, I got a better look at spirits knows what the batarians found on Jartar and it sure isn't prothean," he said as he brought up his omni-tool. "Don't tell anyone I showed you this," Haliat joked as the picture of a round, purple object appeared in front of the camera. "It's like those guys were drawn to it. The pirate, a bareface," the term now stung less for Saren, "He begged us to take him back to it before we crossed him off. Said he couldn't live without it, that it had 'shown him the truth," the green marked face mockingly air quoted, "Never seen anything like it, spirits the guy looked half-dead even before we shot him. Maybe it's some sort of drug, a chemical weapon?" the Blackwatch officer stopped playing with the blade in his hand and looked at the text engraved in it. "No idea what it was, honestly, we got through screening so I guess we didn't get exposed to it," Haliat grabbed the blades sheat from the desk and put the blade back into it. "Didn't get one with it today," he said,"Been a long day. I'll go to sleep now."
The recording froze once more as the turian decided to end it.
So Haliat hadn't been an officer of the Armiger Legion, fighting regular pirates but instead a member of the Blackwatch on a high risk reconnaissance mission deep into batarian territory where they had encountered some kind of weapon. This explained why Desolas's clearance hadn't been enough, this removed the lie Saren had told himself about taking a 'wrong turn' during his investigation.
It also explained why an entire company was supporting them.
A rogue Blackwatch soldier.
He closed the recording and moved on to the third one. This next one was dated right after Haliat had deserted.
The turian pressed play and while beginning to download the files.
Haliat appeared, this time aboard another space vessel by the looks of it, and Saren immediately noticed how different the man looked. He no longer radiated the confidence of an officer of the Hierarchy's most elite unit.
"I had to do it," the turian said, this time looking like he had been beaten to an inch of his life. "They didn't understand, they didn't see what I saw. Had they just touched it like I did, they would've understood. They would still be alive," Haliat muttered, still playing with the talon but doing so at an even faster pace then before. "They were going to destroy it, if they destroyed it there wouldn't have been any proof!" he suddenly shouted at the camera in a fit of anger, slamming the military talon into the metal table with enough force to punch right through it. "I couldn't let it happen. I took an oath to uphold the Hierarchy! No one would believe me without proof. Spirits, I wouldn't believe me without proof," he said as he rose from the desk.
"I'll answer for what I did when I ensured that the situation is under control, when I ensured that they won't be back," the turian started to pace back and forth in the room. "I'm going to their base on Tunae Prime, there we're going to study the artifact. The pirates understand, they said they are going to help, said that they stole it because they knew the danger. At first I didn't believe them but the longer they talked the more sense it started to make," he came to a stop and suddenly clutched his head. "Why didn't my unit understand? They took the same oath! They- ,no. I had to-, had to what?" he questioned confused as he walked back to the desk and ripped out the blade, injuring himself in the process. An angry snarl escaped the turian's mouth before he threw the blade through the room. "I didn't want to kill them, I had to! I- I had to!" he stuttered as he slumped down in the chair, ignoring the blood flowing from his hand. "I had to," he repeated, defeated.
The recording kept going at what looked like a still frame of Haliat for a minute and Saren heard the steps behind him, only fortune allowing him to finish a back up of the terminal's storage disk before Vitallion slapped him on the shoulder.
"What are you looking at Arterius?" the Kabalim asked. "You're supposed to help Tallin search."
"A recording, Sir" Saren explained. "Didn't see much of it though, Spent most of the time trying to unlock it. By the looks of it just a traitor going on about how he didn't mean to kill his unit."
"Typical," Vitallion said, not able to pick up the lie. "Cowards always talk their way out of things."
Saren couldn't really explain why he lied, maybe it was because he didn't want to harm Vitallion's faith in the chain of command. Maybe he didn't want to reveal something the Hierarchy was trying to keep hidden. Maybe a part of him wanted to keep the truth hidden until he knew what happened. There were still two recording left, two recordings he would watch as soon as he could.
"The prefab's clear," Vitallion said. "Casualty evacuation is finished as well, no trace of Haliat though. Looks like your terminal is the only thing we can bag for TNI. Nice work but next time, don't leave your partner," the NCO tapped him on the shoulder and walked out of the room.
"Naval Intelligence can work wonders," Bassilo said from outside of the door. "Good catch Saren."
Saren himself followed his Kabalim, the terminal in his left hand and his Phaeston in his right hand.
The group walked out of the prefab and linked up with the rest of the two squads, Hepsus among them.
"Anything?"
"Just a terminal and his Phaeston. No trace of Haliat."
"Damn bastard," Hepsus said. "I didn't even get to fire a single round," the turian sighted. "Guess I was worried about nothing. Boring day for the cabals."
"You really need to stop complaining abou the lack of fire fi-"
Time slowed down as Saren's muscles moved him to the first piece of cover they could find as warm, blue liquid sprayed against his face.
"Sniper!" Aganian shouted. "Kandros is hit!"
Saren dropped the terminal as his eyes moved to the turian lying in a pool of his own blood, red facial marks stained by blood flowing from his neck, his hands desperately trying to close the wound just below his face as a deadly silence settled once the echo of the shot vanished. It was a common tactic among marksmen to use wounded to draw out more targets, Saren knew that.
As Bassilo looked at his unit with a weak expression, Saren didn't care.
His biotics flared to life as he powered up his barriers and began to run.
"Spirits, where are you going, Arterius!" he heard his superior shout. "Get back here!"
Bassilo was the first cabal Saren had befriended, the first one outside his family that had treated him as an equal, he couldn't simply let him die. He felt the strain on his body as a round smacked into the barrier but he couldn't let Bassilo die. He had to try, he couldn't live with himself if he didn't try. Saren reached Bassilo and saw another turian crouch down next to him, Kabalim Vitallion had followed his suicidal example. The NCO pressed one of his own hands on the wound as he reached for his first aid kit, jamming the blood stopping material into the wound while ripping off a piece of armor on the turian's arm. Then he stabbed the standard issue stimulant pack, meant to keep a turian from dying before getting treatment, into Bassilo's exposed skin, its thin needle slipping past his plates and into his flesh.
"We are going to have to move you! Keep fighting!" he said to Bassilo as another round caused Saren to wince, their enemy was using an powerful rifle, his back was to the sun and a flash cone was hiding the blue flashes created when firing a weapon, making him impossible to spot. They were dealing with someone who knew their craft.
He heard the weak grunting of Bassilo and when his Kabalim lifted the turian he saw the large pool of blood that had already collected on the ground.
This wasn't good.
A turian taking a round to the neck usually didn't have good odds at survivng, especially with the amount of blood Bassilo had just left on the grounds of the camp. But if they could just get him to the Silus in ti- Another round smashed into the barrier and Saren felt himself grow weaker.
"Hurry up, I can't hold this!" he declared as Vitallion picked his pace up, coming ever closer to the safety of the prefab's wall.
A last bullet fired by the sniper smashed through the barrier, its force being reduced by the biotic field, the kinetic shielding and Saren's armor. Yet it still tore through. He felt the sharp burn of a round hitting his chest, tearing away skin and tissue in itss path as he once more forced the barrier up, the taste of blood appearing in his mouth, he ignored it. He had to protect Vitallion and Bassilo. It was his responsibility, his comrades trusted him, he ignored the dizziness, the pure weight of his armor and the blackness starting to close in.
This was the treachery behind biotics, if used in moderation, they were very useful. However if one used them too often or too intense in too little time, they would start to eat at the user, burning through their body without restraint. Asari or krogan didn't experience this very often, their bodies either naturally adapted to biotics or simply too tough to experience the self-destructiveness of biotic power. While salarians weren't capable of producing biotics strong enough to experience it, turians were. During training Saren had always been told to never reach the point of no return, the point at which his body would go into shock due to the strain the biotics placed on it. Hours were spent studying the biological impact of passing the point in an attempt to dissuade eager cabals from destroying themselves by sending their bodies into a self-induced coma they might not survive.
This didn't even go into the process of using them to stop bullets of a high powered sniper rifle while bleeding out.
Saren reached the safety of the prefabs wall and collapsed against its wall, blackness drifting into his line of sight, the last image he saw before falling to the ground being of Hepsus reaching for him to keep him awake, trying to stop him from fading away. He tried to fight it but the blood loss wasn't helping, the darkness creeping ever closer from the edges of his vision.
Saren, for the first time in years, considered giving in as he saw the blue blood collecting below him, flowing from his mouth and chest far too quickly to stop in time.
This is what death felt like.
His unit would give him a nice funeral. His mother of course would be heartbroken at the thought of her youngest son never returning home nad his father would probably be disappointed in him. Dying in a raid against petty pirates, not even a single round fired out of his rifle, a disgrace to the family name.
"Ready for this?" it echoed through his brain, the flanging voice of Desolas perfectly mimicked by his near-death brain.
Desolas would take care of the family, he always did.
"Pleasure to meet you, Saren. Ready for this?" Bassilo Kandros asked him, his feet planted in a turian shuttle above a human world.
He hoped the older turian would get to go home again, he deserved it. His family needed him.
"Born ready." he recalled in his mind, the darkness clawing at his vision.
"I wouldn't mind falling for you though," he remembered the medical assistant, Siana. She had told him to call him when he was back on Palaven. That wasn't going to happen now.
Pity really, she was a pretty one. Nice too.
Hepsus said something as he removed parts of Saren's armor. He didn't feel the needle nor the material being stuffed into his wounds, his brain sparring him the pain due to the lack of blood.
"-th me, Arterius," he made out even thought it sounded very far away, "cuation. One ca-... eeding out fa-"
"Han-... there... -terius. You don't ge- ... die here," it sounded almost inaudible as someone turned him on his back, bright light shining in his eyes, blood stained dirt no longer touching his face.
Just a regular raid.
He almost would've chuckled if he still had feelings in his mandible.
Saren gave in to the blackness, no point in fighting after you gave everything.
2130 CE, Aephus, Turian Naval Rally Point
In his youth, he would've loathed himself for sitting in an office all day and since he wasn't ready to accept that that youth was coming to an end, he still despised it.
"It's a house in Invictus jungle, really," his adjutant said to Desolas as he described the new concept for turian ground warfare, idly throwing a ball against a wall. "I mean we can't just restructure all of our legions due to one lawgiver thinking his 23rd tier makes him a more competent soldier than the people actually leading those legions."
"How you made Commander is beyond me, Melion," the white plated turian chuckled. "Turians are supposed to have complete faith in their superiors," his mandibles twisted into a grin.
"Must be my charms, General. I trust your judgment, I don't trust the judgment of some bureaucrat back on Palaven."
"Be glad you weren't born an asari. The political games would be the death of you, Melion," Desolas replied as he scrolled through the tablet of news. The downside of commanding a large force was that he had long periods of not having anything to do. Especially with most of his legion on leave somewhere Aephus.
Times had been better when he had still been allowed to go to the field with his Blackwatch, not stuck by the chains of command. Sure he had to keep parts of the truth away from his family but technically he had never lied to them. His father had to have suspected something, one did not make general at thirty nine without serving in certain units, but even if he did, he hadn't bothered to tell anyone. Knowing him, the man probably thought Desolas had simply crept up the meritocracy through political maneuvering, not through the fruits of his labour.
The blinking message informing him of urgent news almost surprised him.
If he hadn't been briefed on the investigation two days ago.
"Speaking of asari, Councilor Tevos just got arrested," he said with a dry voice as he swiped the message away to keep reading the news section on recent dueling contests.
"Bitch had it coming," his adjutant replied, equally unsurprised due to his military clearance on the matter. "She's gonna find a way out of this you know?"
"I don't actually. The humans apparenty turned up a lot of evidence," he said, happy that he would be able to collect a few credits during launch seeing as the contestant he had betted one once more prevailed in the non-lethal adaptation of an integral part of turian martial culture, dueling. Usually he wasn't this lucky. Maybe today would be a good day? One politician he disliked less and a few credits, escorted by the knowledge of having the better instinct compared to his rival Admiral Tacitus, more.
"She has so much pull within her own government, I doubt she'll face anything worse than retirement."
"Time will tell, my friend," Desolas said as he took a sip of water. "I for on-"
The door was almost knocked down by the junior officer, his winded expression betraying the urgentness of his message. He tried to get words out but his breath got in the way of it.
"Take a few seconds soldier," Desolas assured him while reading his table. "You can't deliver your message if you suffocate," the turian general chuckled.
"Sir, the operation on Tunea-Prime failed to turn up the artifact. It's gone, along side the pirates," he said as he caught his breath. "And Sir, your brother was injured. Badly."
Desolas dropped the bottle of water, as he turned to look at the younger turian.
The operation itself was something he had been aware of, after all Desolas himself had sent the Blackwatch team which had been killed to retrieve the artifact. He was also aware of his brother snooping around the records, using his faked clearance brother had accessed the right records but closed them far too quickly to actually find anything Desolas would have to talk about, not that he actually would've found the whole truth. Spirits, he had almost guessed that the pirates would've moved the artifact out of his reach for now. He was also aware that Saren would deploy, a factor he had no control over, simply the spirits of fate steering his brother into its path.
What he hadn't guessed was that his brother would be injured.
Desolas threw the tablet against the wall as he grabbed his jacket.
"Melion, get me a link to my personal guard," he said as he donned the piece of cloth containing the same black sigil seen on the two other soldiers in the room. A sigil Desolas Arterius had earned by sheer force of will.
"Tell them we're going for a little hunt."
"Yes, Sir."
"Take care of my legion, Commander."
"You can count on me, General Arterius," the commander said as the older turian left the room.
20. May 2388 AD, Arcturus Station
"That's one problem less," the chancellor said as he muted the tv screen of the news broadcast talking about the 'sudden arrest' of Councilor Tevos.
"We do have enough of them already," Jack Harper replied as he sat in the familiar office. "When am I getting that lecture on going behind your back to retrieve Vasir?" he asked.
"Never," the chancellor shrugged, "and neither are the people you dragged into it. But only because it worked this time, Harper," the chancellor chuckled as he produced a bottle from his desk and walked up to the locker placed on the wall, extracting two traditional bourbon glasses from it. "I'd advise you to not do it again, I'd hate to fire you."
"I simply did what you created Cerberus to do, Chancellor Noé," the other man said as the light-brown alcohol was poured into the glass. "If I have to go behind your back to do that again, I'll do it."
"That's why I gave you this position," the man sighed as he sat down at his desk and raised the glass, shaking it ever so slightly and producing a small vortex of alcohol inside it. "The culprit arrested, the Blood Pack grounded and Eclipse on the run with only their leader escaping us."
"Cerberus is on her trail," the man with blue eyes said as he took a sip, letting the taste settle in his mouth.
"I know Harper," he replied. "But the biggest issue remains."
"The IFS," Jack Harper said the words with a tone of venom. "They've been recruiting form what I heard."
"Yes, crack downs in the Fringe doubled in the last months. HSAIS tells me there's potentially dozens of sleeper cells across our space with access to god knows what Tevos got them."
"Our vigil never ends, does it?" Harper questioned.
"That's the promise we gave," Noé replied as he too took a sip of the beverage. "When you find Sederis, it won't be Cerberus that'll execute the mission."
This took Harper by surprise.
"The turians offered their help on the last charge," the chancellor explained. "They want a joint operation between their own special forces and N7."
"Can hardly pass on that opportunity now, can we?" Harper replied. While he wasn't a politician, he understood the idea behind it.
Few placed forged friendship like the battlefield.
"They also gave us tons of intel on Eclipse hideouts, gathered by TNI, and before you ask, yes we double checked it. It checks out."
"It's nice to have someone on our side for a change," Harper chuckled. "Maybe there aren't just demons out there?" the man said, recalling how he sat in the very same office almost five years ago, back then the 'Cerberus Initiative' was nothing but a concept.
"We've come a long way since then," the chancellor replied, catching the hint.
"Our journey's just beginning, we'll soon have to deal with the veto on the number of our dreadnoughts running out."
"Navy proposed something."
"I'm listening."
"You won't like it," the chancellor said as he shoved a tablet across the table.
"They aren't actually considering giving in?"
"They are considering a loop-hole," Noe said as the director opened the tablet, the display showing him the process of removing a dreadnought's main gun and instead replacing it with a smaller cannon, filling the blank space with either hangars or additional smaller guns.
"They want to make a dreadnought-carrier-hybrid?" he asked. "That seems rather impractical."
"They are calling it Project Chimera, it's based on the fact that no one out there employs strike craft like we do. Our carriers have been racking up more kills than our dreadnoughts, at least against Eclipse."
"I figure we'd do this to every Everest Class? We can only have five 'real' dreadnoughts after all according to it."
"Exactly. The Kilimanjaros are going to fill those five slots. The process is expensive though."
"Is it reversible?"
"That was the condition I gave them."
"We'd lose fire power."
"We are currently building two more carriers Harper, technically we possess more ships the size of dreadnoughts than the asari do. Fire power is something that can take on many forms."
"Doesn't factor in technology."
"The number is still making them sweat. Call Chimera a project of good faith."
"How expensive are we talking?"
"I don't have the exact figures but it still beats deactivating eight dreadnoughts in the long run. When it comes down to it, the retrofit is out best option."
"And what would we do with these 'Chimeras', use them as something in between cruisers and dreadnoughts?"
"I'm not a naval officer, let them decide."
"I take it this is happening?"
"No, not yet. It's our last option. Goyle told me she might be able to turn in a lot of political capital she gathered over the last years. Saved civilians, crushed mercs, exposed corruption, turian sympathy, you know the drill."
"Still shooting for the seat on the council?"
"Of course I am" Noé muttered. "Might as well make sure that I go down as the most influential chancellor of all time," the man explained with a chuckle. "But realistically speaking I was thinking more along the lines of a little more delaying. A human Spectre, would be a good stepping point on our way the seat."
"Got someone in mind?" Harper replied as he took another sip of bourbon.
"Well pure logic would dictate it to be a Section 13 agent, but its not like we got a lot those lying around."
"Would've advised you against it anyway," Harper commented.
"Cerberus is of the page as well, you don't exist. So I figured we might as well take the next logical step."
"An N7," Harper 'guessed'. "More precise an N7 that's going to be part of the joint operation?"
"This is why I dislike spies," Noé chuckled.
"Got anyone special in mind?"
"In fact I do."
Codex: N7 Naval Interplanetary Combatives Training
The N7 program draws its name from the fact that its selection process, open to all parts of the HSA military, consists of seven selection steps, together taking two and a half years to complete. These steps, mostly classified, consist of testing the recruit's resolve, skill, physical endurance, intelligence and ability to work as part of a team even under high levels of both physical and emotional stress.
With a technical success rate of only two percent it is often said that out of a thousand soldiers that apply to the process, only twenty graduate. This number however is inflated by the technicality that the actual training doesn't start until the third step of the program, known as the Crucible among HSA special forces, a test which only one of every ten recruits pass, is completed. Out of these one hundred, only twenty go on to pass the other four steps of the N7 program. Upon graduation a successful candidate is promoted into the rank of a non-commissioned officer, transferred to the navy and given the famous white-stamped, black coloured hardsuit.
The exact size of N7 is classified but estimations put their numbers at a fraction of the navy it is part of, counting no more than eight thousand operatives active at any given time, making the unit slightly more numerous than their counterpart in the army. (see Entry 'Army Special Operations Command')
The unit enjoys access to the most advanced weapons the HSA can muster and has produced many famous human soldiers, Lieutenant Commander Emily Shepard among them.
A/N: So, chapter 11. I hope it's as good as I find it to be, really enjoyed writing it.
We are now at 193 favs and 246 follows, I never thought it would get this far. Glad for every last one of you.
Let me know what you think, so many people yet so little reviews.
The plot isnow slowly starting to advancae and guess what? Shepard now has a first name ;)
I did go back and change a little detail in chapter three, something that will come up later (it's related to me holding back on further parts of the Fringe Wars entries, since those are seriously spoilery and will only appear once their spoilery nature fits with the progression of plot.) I also forgot to write 'Codex' in front of last chapters Codex, shame on me.
See you around next time.
