Chapter 76. The Hunt For Archangel
Thirty Minutes Later, 2158 CE, Omega, Zara District
"Where are they?" Garrus asked the lone survivor of the five gang members he had ambushed. Contrary to the carnage around him, Garrus was calm. It was a conscious choice. He knew that it terrified the human in front of him. From the chatter he had overheard, the group had been on their way to celebrate the death of Archangel and his team. Hence they hadn't expected Garrus to ambush them. As expected when one pitted a former Recon member with a decade of combat experience and the best gear money could buy against a bunch of surprised thugs with hand-me-down guns and no real training, the fight had been over quickly and ended on a brutal note. He had cut all but one of them down from a superior position and then he had dragged the lone survivor off to a side street to interrogate him. Now, after making it perfectly clear that the reports of Archangel's death had been extremely exaggerated, Garrus was getting ready to squeeze as much information out of the gang member as he could.
"I swear I don't know anything. I'm just a hired gun-" the human stuttered. Then the turian shoved him against the wall with as much strength as he and the servos of his armor could muster. Judging by the way the human's face twisted, he was in pain. A lot of pain.
Good. He wanted it to hurt.
Garrus squeezed the collarbone until felt something snap. The human screamed at him. Now the interrogation could begin. He removed his handgun from the magnetic lock on his waist and started to speak.
"You're not a hired gun. You're with the Red Sand Guild and judging by that tattoo right there," he said while pointing his Carnifex at the small hourglass on the side of the human's neck, silencing him in the process. He was now only breathing sharply. "You're not exactly unimportant either," Garrus went while he pressed the gun against the skin for a second for extra intimidation, then he pulled back and stared at him. "Start talking. Where is Nerox?" Nerox was the leader of the local Red Sand guild and presumably one of the people who had planned the bombing that had killed his team about an hour ago.
"Listen man," the human said between his pained breaths, "I can get you anything you want. Money, red sand, hookers-"
Another shove against the wall silenced the guild member and got his interrogation back on track.
"Do you know who I am?" Garrus asked.
"Of course," he stuttered, "you're the fucking Archangel."
"Then you know that bribes don't work on me," the turian concluded. "Now tell me where Nerox is before I run out of reasons to keep you alive."
"I don't know nothing about no Nerox man," in response Garrus moved his Carnifex from the neck to the face of the guild member. "Come on. You know I'm not lying. The bastard's fucking paranoid. He tells his brothers anything. How the hell should I know where he's hiding."
"So you really don't know anything?"
"Yes!" the human exclaimed. "Nothing. I don't know squat!"
"Well in that case," the turian said before pressing the Carnifex right in between the human's eyes. He looked shock for a second. Then his brain went into overdrive.
"Wait, wait wai-" he pleaded but before he could make any sound argument, Garrus pulled the trigger and spattered blood and brain matter against the wall and his visor. He looked at what remained of the guy's head for a second. It was exactly as much as one would expect after a hit from a gun designed to kill krogan. Satisfied with the result, the ex-detective dropped the body and wiped red blood of his visor with the inside of his gauntlet. Then he walked away without offering his latest victim even the hint of respect or having even a shard of regret about what he had just done. He didn't really have any mental capacity left for morals at this point.
Right now he was only being driven by one thing; vengeance.
And unfortunately for the gangs of this district, he was just getting started.
Meanwhile, 21. March 2417 AD, Omega, Gozu District
After Solus had given them the cure, Shepard and her team had made their way to the main ventilation system of the district. There they had encountered a large pack of vorcha which had been dead set on preventing them from stopping the spread of the plague. While she had only understood about every third word or so that the leader of the pack had snarled before Callius had exploded his head with a well-aimed burst of her Phaeston, what little she had managed to understand was painting a very nasty picture. Now that they had moped up the rest of the vorcha, which had proven to be equally fierce and stupid opponents, and spread the cure through the district, with EDI's instructions it had been incredibly easy for Emily to restart the ventilators, the N7 was ready to look at it.
'Collector make vorcha strong.'
While there were obviously a lot of people that could be considered as the aforementioned 'Collector', Emily had experienced the universe's twisted sense of humor often enough to know that she was susceptible to landing missions that got more complicated with every apparent victory. The missing 's' wasn't intentional. There was no shady figure called 'collector' that had helped these vorcha. They had worked with the same Collectors she was trying to stop. As she looked at the body of the ash-coloured vorcha, she wondered if the creature understood the implications its last words had had and sighed. If she was right about this, this whole situation had just gotten even worse. As if abducting human colonists wasn't enough evil for them, the Collectors were also spreading bio-weapons on Omega in their free time.
After Kai and Callius had joined her, Emily felt the need to ask them and check if she hadn't misheard.
"Was it just me or did this guy say that he was working for the Collectors?" she asked while looking at the vorcha and noticing just how badly burnt its skin looked. Just how many times had this guy set himself on fire and survived to tell the tale? Stupid or not, when it came to resilience, they really were something else entirely.
Her fellow N7 shrugged and looked at their turian comrade. "Didn't really hear anything other than snarling before dead-eye over here turned his lights off," then he lightly punched Callius against her armored shoulder. "Good shot by the way. You basically took his head off."
"He just stood out in the open like an idiot and talked to himself. I would be a sorry excuse of a soldier if I hadn't hit him under these circumstances," Callius replied dryly. "But thanks," then she turned to Emily. "Sorry, Shepard, but I only heard him say something about taking over the district," the Blackwatch lieutenant replied before giving the dead vorcha a light kick as if to check if the headshot had actually been sufficient enough to kill it. "If I were you, I wouldn't put too much thought into anything a vorcha says. They're stupid creatures and half of the time they don't even know what they're talking about."
Underneath her helmet, Emily frowned. She was being handed an easy out but she knew what she had heard and she was aware of her own track-record. On one of her missions, things like these were never just coincidences or misunderstandings or nothings. Hence the plague in Gozu District was the Collectors' doing and they had used the vorcha to make sure that it wouldn't be stopped before it wiped out every non-human in this part of Omega.
Now, as usual, the only question that remained was 'why?'.
She set a nav-point back to the clinic and gave the order to fall out.
Maybe Doctor Solus would be able to shed some light on this later on.
Meanwhile, 2158 CE, Omega, Gozu District Clinic
As soon as the fans had turned on again and the air circulation had started, Mordin had begun to pack his belongings.
He didn't know why Shepard was here, or how she was even alive to begin with, but he was certain that she needed his help. After deciding that the most logical explanation for her finding him was that STG had told Shepard where he had gone after his retirement, Mordin had looked at the data in front of him and drawn another conclusion based on probability. If STG was working with Shepard, there was a reasonable chance that the mission was related to or at least on a similar level as the last threat that had brought them together on Virmire.
The Reapers.
If that was the case, they were at least moving in the vicinity of a galaxy-threatening event, which of course outweighed his personal desire to help the people on Omega and continue with his retirement activity of running a clinic that didn't charge for treatment. Therefore it wasn't a matter of 'should he go and help' but rather 'when was Shepard ready to leave'. As expected, the decision had been easy. Going from there, Mordin had been forced to quickly decide on the fate of what he had built here. Considering that his cure was now circulating through the district's ventilation system, which would exterminate the virus and end this so-called plague, the situation in Gozu was stabilized and didn't require his intervention. Nonetheless he felt like the clinic needed to stay. The disease had ravaged the district and the survivors would need medical attention. Succession was needed.
Again the decision had been easy and quick. His assistant Daniel had proven himself capable. If he left him the necessary equipment and credits, Mordin was sure that his retirement project would endure and continue to help the people of the district, freeing him up to entirely commit himself to whatever threat Shepard was up against.
Now that his personal matters were resolved, he could render every kind of assistance that was needed.
Scientific expertise or medicinal support, operational advice or direct action, field care of casualties, study of otherwise unknown alien life forms and development of counter-measures, no matter what Shepard needed, Mordin would be able to provide it thanks to his natural talents and the countless of hours and credits that the Union had been spent on education and training meant to make his strengths stronger and his weaknesses nonexistent.
Now if only he could unravel what Shepard was facing. Then he could already start his preparations. If the threat was as big as he pictured it, the image of Sovereign was still clearly present in his mind as it was for everyone that had fought on Virmire or lived through the battle of the Citadel, every second of preparation or scrape of knowledge could make the difference between-
He blinked, took a deep breath. It was a habit he had developed since his childhood to deal with the pace and complexity his own mind worked at. It was necessary too. While he knew that he didn't seem like it, he found himself overwhelmed by his own mind far more often than the people around him. After achieving the calm he had been shooting for, Mordin stopped himself from going down the same path again and looked at his back. Weapons, armor, munitions, field research kit, personal belongings, Gilbert and Sullivan notes. It was everything he needed. A lab would most likely be provided to him, either by the HSA or the Council, depending on who Shepard was working with. Otherwise there would be no point in seeking him out.
Now all he had to do was wait.
Fourteen Minutes Later, 21. March 2417 AD, Omega, Gozu District Clinic
After clearing the mech checkpoint, Shepard and her team entered the clinic. Doctor Solus instantly greeted them.
"Shepard," he said while hefting a bag over his shoulder. He looked as if he was about ready to leave, despite her not even having told him that she was here to recruit him. "Ran the scans. Spread of cure successful. Estimate that no further virus-related fatalities should occur. Thank you. Helped save many people today. Many futures too," the salarian paused for a second, closed his eyes and took a breath. "Promised to render assistance to you in return. Now that cure is spread, ready to leave," he added before looking back at the doctor her team had saved. "Daniel will handle things while I'm gone," then he started to walk towards the exit.
While she certainly appreciated his eagerness, Shepard raised her hands to stop him.
"Hold on. You don't even know why I'm here."
"Don't have to. Considered possible scenarios while you were gone. Conclusion was always the same. Time sensitive matter of life and death. More important than personal retirement plans. Require my assistance and abilities. Wouldn't have sought me out if you didn't. Made decision in your absence. Will join you if you want me," he explained quickly while chopping his hands through the air. It left her rather baffled. Sure, the details weren't there yet, but on the surface, everything Mordin had just said was one hundred percent accurate. Yes, Kirrahe had described him as exceptionally smart and his resume spoke for itself, Mordin Solus was a certified genius, but this? This was far above anything she had expected. "Have many questions. Especially related to personal resurrection. But can wait for answers. Still, would appreciate details on mission right now," the salarian added a few moments later, snapping her out of her amazement.
"Of course," she said quickly. Then she obliged him. "I'm with Cerberus now. It's a subdivision of our military," that was technically not a lie. "And you're right, it is a matter of life and death. My mission is to stop the Collectors. You've been on Omega for some time now. You've heard of them, haven't you?"
"Considered them folklore. But yes. Have heard of Collectors," Mordin said. Then he put his hand in front of his mouth. "Stop them from what? Define threat please."
"The Collectors have been abducting humans for the last two years. They took an entire colony in their most recent attack and there are no signs that they're anywhere close to done. Ever since they started, they've taken over a hundred thousand people. Always without firing a shot. If they keep going at this pace, we'll hit half a million soon enough. It's not official right now since their existence isn't exactly common knowledge, but given these numbers, the HSA considers itself at war with them. We asked the turians and salarians for help, so it's not just a human matter either. Right now I'm working with the Blackwatch and STG," she said.
"Explaining presence of Blackwatch honor guard," Mordin commented before looking at Callius.
"Liaison officer?"
Shepard nodded. "Exactly," then she returned to the subject at hand. "It's our objective to find out how the Collectors are pulling all of this off and to stop these abductions at their root. To do that, I'm putting together a team. You are one of the critical members. It's going to be dangerous, obviously, but the Collectors have to be stopped," she looked at the salarian. Normally one wouldn't expect someone as old as him to be part of both the scientific and operational detachments of the dossiers Harper had given her, but she knew better than to judge a book by its cover. As if his intelligence wasn't enough to justify his recruitment, the ease and speed with which he had lifted the bag on his shoulder, which by the looks of it was very heavy, betrayed that Mordin Solus was still very much fit for field work, despite his advanced age. "That's my mission and if you're still in now that you know the details, it'll be yours too."
Mordin paused for a second. Then he tightened the straps on his bag.
"Ready to leave."
"Good. I'll give you a nav-point to our ship."
"Not joining me yet?" he asked. While she wanted to say yes and ask him if what she had heard earlier was possible, namely the virus being engineered by the Collectors and intentionally spread by the vorcha, there was something else that needed to be done beforehand.
"No, there's still someone else we need to find before we can leave Omega."
While she had shut it out of her mind for the duration of the mission, EDI had informed her of what was going on in Zara District and what chatter was passing through the extranet channels there. She knew that a raid had gone wrong and that a team of Blue Suns had been killed. Similarly, she also knew that the entire district was now hunting the lone survivor, Archangel, and getting ready to lynch him whenever they finally found him.
"In that case, ready to render assistance with your mission if required," Mordin offered.
"I appreciate it," Shepard said. Garrus was being hunted, so she didn't want to show up with strangers. He'd recognize N7 armor and he'd recognize Callius, after all this wasn't the first time they had worked together. But she didn't want to take any chances on him accidentally putting a round through Mordin. His get-up didn't exactly scream 'STG' and Omega, an armed salarian was more likely to be a mercenary than an STG operative. "But for now I think it's best if you familiarize yourself with our ship," she offered diplomatically.
"Understood," the salarian nodded without protest. "Will find me in laboratory when you return. Good luck on pursuit."
She bit her lip. They'd need luck, no doubt.
But not as much as Garrus.
Thirty-Five Minutes Later, 2158 CE, Zara District
There were two ways this could go.
He'd make the jump, get around the fifteen Talons in front of the blockade six stories below him and sneak into their real base of operations, the Hera Voran Casino, which he had found out about due to a much more talkative Reaver lieutenant.
Or he'd fail, fall down six stories, break every bone in his body and prematurely end his crusade of vengeance because of overestimating his jumping abilities like a jackass.
Garrus took a breath, folded up his Mantis, put it on his back and walked all the way to the other edge of the roof. Then he started running. Much sooner than expected, he kicked himself off the edge of the roof and was flying through the air.
It looked like he was going to make a flawless landing for about three-quarters of the way. But then gravity caught up with him. He hit the wall below his mark and barely managed to grab the ledge of the other roof with one of his hands. If not for the servos, he probably wouldn't have even been able to hold his own weight. After adjusting himself and using his other arm to hold his weight and prevent himself from falling, Garrus took a breath and pulled himself up. That had been noisy. But strangely enough, no one seemed to have heard anything.
Was luck on his side? Maybe.
Just as he reached the safety of the roof, he heard something clatter to the floor below. He risked a peak. A piece of sheet-metal that had served as a window cover had fallen to the ground. He had probably loosened it when he had impacted with the side of a building. For a second or so, he figured that he was somehow still in the clear, that none of the Talons had heard anything.
But then his crusade got a little more difficult. He heard a distinctively flanging turian voice shout come from down below.
"It's Archangel! Up there on the roof! Open fire!"
Then a dozen of Phaeston and older Vindicator rifles began to rattle. Their rounds tore through the air and in some cases even through the metallic frame of the building, buzzing past his head in an all too familiar fashion. He threw himself flat on his belly and started to crawl to the only exit he could see. He had a couple of grenades he could toss down there to end this, yes, but there was no guarantee that he wouldn't frag a lot of bystanders in the process. This was Omega, people around here didn't just leave their homes because of something as inconvenient and usual as a gang war. Those were far too common around here. He kept crawling until he reached what looked like a ceiling port and then, without even thinking about what he might drop into, tore open the hatch and rolled into it. After falling for a moment or so, he crashed into what felt like a glass cabinet. Thanks to his armor, he didn't actually get hurt, but judging by the look of the pair of angry batarians he was now facing, that might change any second.
"What the fuck?" a female with brown skin exclaimed. "Is that the fucking Archangel?"
"I don't care, who he is," the male, yellow one said. "The asshole just crashed our stash!"
He looked around himself and noticed the red dust, shattered beakers and trashed cooking equipment he was lying in. Then he groaned. A drug lab. Out of all the places he could've landed in, he had picked a drug lab. As he got up, he looked at the two aliens. They appeared unarmed and at least somewhat intimidated. Still angry though. He scanned the room for a door and slowly and wordlessly started to walk towards it.
"Hey asshole, where do you think you're going?" the yellow one asked while Garrus slowly backed up. "We worked on that shit for weeks and you just drop in here and fuck it up. You're paying for that, one way or another," he added before pulling out an old folding knife which definitely couldn't go through even the softest parts of his armor's undersuit. The weaving was strong enough to stop military talons that cut on a nanometer level. In short, this wasn't a real threat, which was also the only reason why he hadn't put a round right between the batarian's four eyes the moment he had pulled his little blade.
"Look, I don't think either of us really want to do this," Garrus suggested. Meanwhile his eyes switched between looking at the knife and looking the other, more unsure batarian. He was set on deescalating this situation and she was probably his way to do so. He was about to lay out a strategy that ended with no one in the room getting hurt and him walking out of the door without making even more noise for the Talons. But then the last hours, the death of his entire team and his snarky side got the better of him. "Besides. I'm sure a legitimate business like yours is insured properly for accidental damages," he added dryly.
"You bastard!" the yellow batarian declared before charging across the room and leaping at Garrus. What kind of damage he intended to do? The former C-SEC detective had no idea. Since he didn't have to worry about actually getting stabbed and since it had been a surprisingly long time since he had gotten to prove just how he had ended up as the top hand-to-hand specialist in his Recon unit, Garrus chose to resolve this situation without killing anyone. He grabbed the batarian by his weapon arm mid-charge, stepped out of his way, spun on his heal and flung his opponent forward. After he let go, the drug cook flew against the door, carried by his own momentum. While it wasn't nearly fast enough to kill him, it definitely knocked the air out of him. After hitting the slide-apart mechanism, the door opened up and he fell backwards against the ground with a groan.
Garrus couldn't stop himself from chuckling.
"Told you, you don't want to do this," Garrus gloated before suddenly being jumped from the back. The female batarian. He had turned his back on her.
Rookie mistake.
He felt something hit against his head over and over again. but he couldn't really tell what it was. Thanks to the heavily reinforced alloy plating and anti-concussive padding and gel-layers of his helmet, he only really heard a soft thudding and didn't feel any pain whatsoever. After briefly considering to just jump backwards and fall on his back and let the weight of his armor do the job for him, it certainly would've been enough to break every rib in the batarian's body and maybe even paralyze her, Garrus settled for a less severe solution. Again, he wasn't actually in any danger yet. The Talons and their assault rifles hadn't shown up yet. As long neither of the batarians didn't pull out a gun or a knife sharp enough to slice through Cirpirtine Armory most recent blend of ballistic weaving or suddenly turned out to be biotics, there wasn't actually a whole lot these two small-time criminals could do to him other than waste his time. After making sure that he'd hold his balance for the move, Garrus threw his head backwards ever so slightly and gave his attacker's face a taste of the amount of strength an able-bodied turian wearing a combat hardsuit full of servomotors could muster. It was more than enough to knock her off of him. He spun around and saw the small club that she had used to hit him. As expected, he had made the right decision. It was nothing that could've actually hurt him. He watched her hold her bleeding brow for a second and then stepped over the yellow batarian, who was still lying on the floor, halfway in his apartment, halfway on the hallway.
Then he heard the shouts coming through the stairway.
He didn't need his translator to understand them.
The Talons were here.
"Get inside. Lock the door," he told the batarian, who was only now getting up. Then he turned his back on him and unfolded his Phaeston, aiming at the staircase in front of him. He started to walk forward as quickly as he could without making noise and give away his position. Since he couldn't just bust into one of these apartments and put the bystanders into even more danger, his best bet was to get the drop on the Talons while they were in the narrower staircase. To prepare for the inevitability of standing in gunfire, Garrus overcharged his kinetic barriers. While that meant that they'd fail sometime in the near future, it gave them a big short-term boost in survivability, which was exactly what he'd need if he wanted to live long enough to actually see that near future.
Determined to finish off his pursuers before they could spread out, Garrus advanced.
But as if to stay in line with the way his day had been going up to now, that plan failed. He made it about two apartment doors down the hallway before the first Talon came up the stairs and spotted him.
"Contact front!" he shouted. As usual for their gang, the turian was clad in maroon armor with golden highlights on its edges. He had smartly opted for a helmet and he was carrying a Vindicator X assault rifle, the immediate predecessor of the Phaeston. As expected from most turians who'd gone through basic training and paid even the least bit of attention, he had his gun upfront and ready to shoot by the time he and Garrus saw each other. At this point it was just a game of who had the faster reaction, the quicker trigger finger, the better aim and less paralyzing fear in their system. As usual, in his mind, Garrus already saw himself winning the gunfight. But then again, if he'd think anything else, he probably would've died years ago. Lighting fast he aligned his rifle with the turian's center of mass and his finger slipped against the trigger of the rifle.
With not chance to go back or sideways, Garrus next move was to pull the trigger on his Phaeston and charge forward, ignoring the bullets that hit his overcharged barriers. This was his only option and he'd be damned if he didn't seize it. He had to reach the staircase before the turians behind the gang member he had just killed, and who had fallen backwards on them due to the recoil of the lethal hit, could organize themselves and get a clear line of sight on him. Just as his HUD flashed red with the message that his barriers were about to collapse, and in addition to those bad news also informed him that the heatsink of his assault rifle was just a few more shots away from overheating, Garrus thrusted his left arm forward. The gesture unleashed an overload charge from his omni-tool, which hit the Talon right behind the one he had killed. While he realized what Garrus intended, he had nowhere to go and no time to react. The charge hit him and electrified his armor and body. In the process it also somehow jumped over to the third turian in the line. Both collapsed as their armor got fried and the internal workings and servos went haywire. If they screamed, Garrus wasn't able to hear it because of the small arms rattling through the hallway. Mere moments before his barrier would've failed him, he reached the staircase and clung to what little cover he had at the exit of the hallway. Mass accelerator rounds jumped past him and down the luckily empty hallway for a few seconds. Then their cadence died down.
While he wasn't tapped into their communications, the Talons were the only gang on Omega who seemed to regularly check for any intrusions into their network, he didn't need to hear what they were saying to know what they'd do now.
These guys had the same basic training as him and clearly no intention whatsoever to take him alive. He had the superior position and no intention of giving it up. If he was in their place, he'd frag himself out. Not a second after coming to the conclusion, a small disk cylinder the size of a hand palm landed further down the hallway with a clutter. While he only spent a second looking at it before taking action, Garrus recognized the go-to shrapnel grenade of the Hierarchy. Instinctively and without pause, he made the one terrible decision that he was left with if he wanted to survive. He jumped down the stairs feet first and into the face of the Talons, who had clearly not expected this kind of suicidal behavior. His momentum and weight knocked over the point man and the turian behind him and now both of them were tumbling down the stairs and into the arms of even more Talons. He didn't let himself be distracted by the chaos or the explosion behind him though. Before they started to get up, Garrus began to shoot. He was still lying on the floor at this point but that didn't stop him from wielding his Phaeston with his one hand and his Carnifex with his other. If he had to take a guess, about half of the shots he managed to fire before the guns both overheated, which weren't that many due to his Phaeston already being on the brink to begin with and the Carnifex' heatsink only having enough space for ten discharges, missed their marks. The other half and some ricochets hit some of the Talons in front and injured them but surprisingly enough, none of them died in Garrus' uncharacteristic display of inaccuracy. But it didn't matter. The shots had bought him enough time to get back up. After jumping to his feet, Garrus found himself in the following situation. One Talon was dead from the earlier. Two more were still on the ground recovering from his dropkick and the overcharge. A fourth one was already back on his knees and about to level a shotgun into his face and the barrel of the gun of a fifth one was peaking around the corner of the stairway.
In another split-second decision, which was really the only kind of decision he had been making ever since dropping into the drug-lab, the former detective threw his overheated rifle into the face of the shotgun-wielding Talon, who unlike his smarter, deader comrade wasn't wearing his helmet. While it didn't hit nearly hard enough to kill him, the impact of the heavy rifle still stunned the gang member for a second or so. In the process of trying to clear the distance between him and the shotgun, Garrus stomped on the neck of another who was trying to get on his feet further down the stairs and stepped over the back of the other one. Then he smashed his Carnifex against the side of the shotgunner, who fell against the wall of the narrow staircase that Garrus had just turned into a close-quarters battlefield. In the same moment, a submachine gun was discharged into the side of his body and after the electric crack of his barrier breaking, a painful, burning sting sensation shot through his body.
That would be number five.
If not for his armor, Garrus probably would've been dead by now, but as things were, the heavy set of blue-and-white military grade plating took enough punch out of the SMG rounds to give Garrus the opportunity to launch himself sideways and body check the gunman.
When he looked about half-way through the body-check, Garrus realized that that had been a rather stupid idea. Like the rest, his attacker was of course a Talon, but unlike the others, this one wasn't a turian in medium second-rate armor. He was krogan and he was wearing a heavy vanguard set-up.
While his attack was on point, Garrus simply bounced off the krogan Talon and landed in the wall. Before he could recover, a biotic punch strong enough to dent his chest-plate knocked the air out of his lungs and sent him to the ground.
Not good.
"Hah. You're Archangel?" the krogan spat as he lifted Garrus up from the ground by his neck, causing him to drop his Carnifex. "I won't lie. I expected more of a fight from someone with your rep," with a chuckle, the krogan threw another punch, this one regular and not biotic. But instead of pain, Garrus felt the cooling sensation of medigel being dispensed by his armor. Contrary to how it felt, that was a pretty bad sign. Again the krogan lifted him up to eyelevel. Garrus gaze shot to his assault rifle. In response the krogan stomped on the Phaeston lying next to them. It bent at an angle that made Garrus heart bleed. For that alone he'd kill the krogan. "First we make you watch your team die, and now we're gonna kill you. How does that feel?" he bragged while Garrus made a fist with the arm that held his omni-tool and thanked the spirits for the biggest flaw that their society had given to the krogan.
The need to gloat to someone's face whenever they could and to always deliver some kind of one-liner before finishing a job.
He just didn't get it.
While the krogan increased the pressure on his throat, Garrus muttered something and waited for the omni-blade to be flash-forged around his arm.
"What was that?" the krogan asked. "Suffocating already?" then he let go of Garrus' airway ever so slightly. "Try agai-"
It was the only opening he'd get and he used it.
In a second, a long, searing hot orange omni-gel blade went through the krogan's chin, into his skull and out of the back of his head. With a slice left, Garrus completely severed the spine from the brain and the rest of the nervous system, preventing blood rage from setting in. Unlike most of what he had used today, this move didn't come from his army or Recon days. He had learned it from C-SEC's Special Response division. As expected, the last thing you wanted on the Citadel was a raging krogan who just wouldn't die. While the half-decapitation was normally done with a sniper rifle and special ammunition, he had just proven that it worked just as well with a sharp and long enough blade. After the krogan's body realized that it had just died, he went limp and let go of Garrus. Before both fell, the detective pushed the krogan backwards so that he wouldn't land on top of him and trap him underneath his weight. Then the omni-blade disappeared. He threw one look at the body and repeated what he had just tried to say.
"Beats being dead."
Alright. So maybe he did get the one-liners. They had a certain charm about them.
He took a step forward and felt a sting despite the medigel flooding his body.
Right. The gunshot wound.
Garrus reached into his pocket and pulled out a stim. He pushed the small pack into the injection port of his armor. After a few seconds of feeling as crap as before, the combat drug kicked in and gave him the much-needed boost. It should keep him on his legs long enough to finish this. Next he picked up his weapons and double-tapped every Talon on the staircase with his Phaeston. Then he raided the body of the Talon who had led this squad, the one with the shotgun he had just shot again for good measure, for his omni-tool. That way he'd be able to tap into the communication. After attaching the small grey box to his own interface, a series of voices flooded his hearing.
"Cirick-4, status. I say again, Cirick-4, status," the voice seemed somewhat familiar but Garrus couldn't place where he had heard it before. Not that it mattered. He'd find out when he pulled the speaker's body off the radio station.
"Command, this is Demios-1 responding for Cirick-4," another turian voice declared in between bursts of Phaeston fire. "Cirick's 1, 3 and 4 are KIA. Archangel's still alive and on the run and our position is under attack by a hostile special forces team. They're trying to break through our perimeter. Require reinforcements."
Alright. This was getting interesting.
"Demios-1, did you just say special forces?"
"Affirmative, Command. I've got enemy special forces attacking my squad and trying to get to archangel. Require reinforcements."
"Understood Demios. Rerouting squads Artymek and Bellatox to your position. Hold for reinforcements."
"Understood."
A hostile special forces team?
Either he had allies he wasn't aware of, or the Blue Suns forces from another district were coming to his aid. Either way, they'd give him the opportunity to slip out of this place and he was grateful for that.
He cracked a smirk. It was good to be a part of a team.
For a split second, he allowed himself to remember the time on the Normandy. Shepard's crew had been a damn good team too. It hadn't been long, but he always looked back fondly on the couple of months he had spent on the ship. Mostly because it had been the first time since becoming a C-SEC detective that he had actually worked as part of a bigger unit again. He shook his head and climbed down the stairs. Shepard and those times were dead and gone, just like his last team was. Just like the gang leaders of Zara were going to be as soon as he got to that damn casino. As he heard a sound further down the stairway where the lobby began, Garrus rolled his shoulders back and got his Phaeston back up.
He was far from being done here.
Ten Minutes Later, 21. March 2417 AD, Omega, Zara District
"Vakarian definitely came through here," Callius muttered as they walked through the ground layer of the apartment building to the left of the roadblock they had just cleared. The bodies of several maroon-armored turians, members of the so-called Talons, were spread out across the floor, all killed by gunshots. Judging by the way that each of them also spotted a clean headshot in the same exact position, Emily figured that Garrus had made sure that they were dead by double-tapping them. While it didn't exactly fall in line with something a C-SEC officer would do, the N7 wasn't naïve enough to believe that two years and a membership with the Blue Suns couldn't change a person.
"Great. So now we just have to figure out where he went," Leng replied before inspecting one of the turians, who had died sitting against the wall. He tilted him sideways and pulled a small box from his belt. "Got an omni here," he called.
"Let's see it," Emily said. The other N7 tossed the small box to her and she caught it. Next she interfaced it with her own device. After running a quick scan, it turned out that the device was running Hierarchy military encryption. Or at least that's what she assumed the flashing red turian letters and sigil of the Hierarchy were trying to tell her. She wasn't going to crack that by herself. "EDI?" she spoke into her radio after opening the channel to the Normandy's AI.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Can you bypass a turian military encryption for me?"
"Which version, Commander?"
"I don't have the slightest idea, hold up," Shepard said before turning to their Blackwatch liaison officer.
"2157-4," Callius replied after taking a short look. Then she glanced at the body. "Surprisingly up-to-date. I wonder where he got it from."
"You caught that EDI?" Shepard asked while Callius kneeled down next to the body and started to turn its head.
"Yes, Commander. Starting the bypass now."
"Much appreciated, EDI."
"Just like I thought," she heard Callius mutter. When she went to look again, the Blackwatch officer had removed the armor on the dead turian's left forearm.
"What is it?" Shepard asked while Callius pointed her omni-tool's scanner at a black, bar-code tattoo on the turian's wrist and produced what looked to be a service file.
"He's an escaped convict. A taetrian insurgent among other things," Callius explained. "I know it's not part of our mission, Shepard, but if a gang or some separatists somehow managed to get their hands on our encryption tech, then I need to send this omni-tool back to Palaven once we're done on Omega. This is a major security breach and TNI has to know about it," the lieutenant said before gently moving her hand across the green-marked face and closing the dead turian's eyes. Then she got back up. "That won't be a problem, right?"
"Of course not," Shepard said. "Once we find Garrus, the omni's all yours."
Callius gave an understanding nod. A few seconds later, EDI came back with a response.
"Commander. I have circumvented the encryption software. After searching the data under the consideration of Detective Vakarian 's current objective and tapping into Talon communication, I have singled out his most likely destination. The Hera Voran Casino in 273821 Zara District," before Emily could ask where that was, EDI got ahead of her again. "A nav point has been set on your HUD."
"Thanks EDI." First a clinic in Gozu, now a casino in Zara. Their trip to Omega was shaping up to be quite the sight-seeing tour.
"There is more, Commander," EDI said. "I must advise that you proceed with extreme caution. The Hera Voran is considered the hub of the Red Sand Guild in Zara District. It is reasonable to expect heavy resistance. Additionally, information from Talon communication channels suggests that all forces opposing the Blue Suns in this district are coming together to kill Detective Vakarian and stop his interference with their operation once and for all. By my estimations, you could face a company-sized force. Considering these odds, I must also suggest a tactical retreat."
"Leaving Garrus is not an option, EDI."
"Then I must suggest that you consider waiting for reinforcements. A strike team of Normandy marines is ready to await your orders and General Arterius and his Blackwatch forces are still in position around the relay. Both could arrive at your position within two hours."
She got the suggestion.
But even if she ignored that Blackwatch would likely have to force their way onto the station and that the Normandy's marines would have to break out of their dock first, two hours was more time than they had.
"It'll be over by then," Shepard pointed out. "You can give them an update on our status, but I think we'll have to do this by ourselves. Thanks for the help."
"My assistance requires no appreciation. Good luck, Commander."
Shepard threw one more look at the carnage her old ally had left and then gestured for her team to leave the apartment behind them.
The clock was running against them.
And while she trusted Garrus, she feared that he was punching above his weight-class on this one.
Five Minutes Later, 2158 CE, Omega, 273799 Zara District
Thirty-one targets outside the objective, Talon sentry posts staffed with a squad each in all four directions, an unknown number of non-combatans and hostiles inside the casino.
That was the situational assessment Garrus could make from his hiding spot in a storage building that further down the street from the casino's entrance. While he was very pissed, he wasn't stupid enough to go charging into a fight like this without looking what he was in for and seeing if he could level the playing field a bit beforehand.
He took a step back into the shadow of the room and lifted his rifle. Then he hovered the scope of his Mantis over one of the targets he considered to be among the most troublesome. She was an asari merc, probably hired by the gunrunners. While asari mercs themselves were already bad news, being biotic and all, the asari skull on her collar was what really worried Garrus. Unless she had put it there herself for some extra rep, which usually didn't go all to well with the other Eclipse remnants, this one used to be part of Jona Sederis' personal hit squad. If he had to take a guess, the asari had probably been freelancing ever since the HSA had killed Sederis and split up Eclipse about thirty years ago.
Next he moved on to the number two on his worry-list, a krogan clad in silver body armor from head to toe. He was big, even by his species' standards. Coupled with the heavy armor he was wearing, which looked like it used to belong to the Blood Pack before being repainted by hand, Garrus worried that the size of the krogan alone would make it hard for him to score a lethal hit with his Mantis. Even if he used armor-piercing bullets, he might not have enough stopping power.
He lingered for a second and then he scanned the windows of the four-story tall, brown-painted building again, hoping for a change or a streak of luck. His crusade of vengeance would be a lot if he could just pick the gang leaders off from here. But unlike the bait they had sent, they weren't stupid. Although the leaders of the Talons, Morbians, Reavers and the Red Sand Guild didn't know a lot about the persona of 'Archangel', it taken them the better part of four months to even figure out that he was a turian Blue Suns vigilante and not an human cover operative like they had originally believed, they had evidently figured out that his weapon of choice was a heavily modified Devlon Industries Mantis-X Marksman Rifle. As such none of them would poke their head out in the open until his body was dragged through the streets of Omega.
After clearing the last window and coming up short of luck, he hadn't spotted any of the leaders he really wanted to kill, just more guards he'd gladly kill while he made his way to his actual targets, Garrus' mandibles pressed against his chin and he looked at the building for another moment before once more taking cover and staring at the floor of the storage room.
He was outnumbered, outgunned and injured. The only reason he was standing on his feet was due to his very liberal use of stim packs. His medigel supplies had run dry after the fight with the krogan. He didn't have any more thermal clips, so he'd have to rely on his heatsink. Furthermore his Phaeston had taken damage after the krogan had stepped on it during their fight. It still worked for the time being, but it didn't exactly look reliable anymore. So he had to assume that he only had his Mantis and his Carnifex left. If he just charged in with those and started shooting, he probably wouldn't make it further than the lobby before dying and even if he did, there was no guarantee that everyone he wanted to kill was actually in there. So on a purely rational level, this was a near-suicidal mission with very little chances of success. Hence, he should just walk away and live to fight another day.
But much to the dismay of his rational mind and his self-preservation instinct, there was one fact that overruled all of these risks.
He had screwed up and the team he had been trusted to lead was dead because of it.
Even though he had only ended up with the vigilantes because the Normandy had blown up two years ago and he had needed something to follow up on their mission to stop Saren and the geth, his team of Blue Suns and their mission had started to mean something to him. And now it was gone. Just like the last time. It was painfully familiar.
But the pain was where the similarities had to end.
Two years ago, he had watched from an escape pod while the Normandy got dissected by a hostile ship and hoped that everyone had made it off-board in time. There had been no attempt at avenging his dead comrades. It had been a feeling of absolute powerlessness and cowardliness and ever since that day, he had blamed himself for running away and turning his back on the Normandy without making their enemies pay.
That wouldn't happen today.
Even if it took him breathing his last on the streets of a place as forsaken and insignificant as Zara District, he wasn't going to run away. He couldn't take being haunted by the spectres of unavenged comrades all over again. He didn't have enough regret in him anymore.
Garrus turned on a phasic-ammunition mod and searched for his first target. The crosshairs of his scope landed on the neck of the former Eclipse operative, her armor would be thinner here, and he took a deep breath. After a few seconds of no change, he felt his heart beat slower inside his chest. Then his trigger finger pressed against the familiar trigger of his Mantis as it had done thousands of times before. He squeezed, quickly until he hit the pressure point and then almost unnoticeably slow. All the while, there was only one thing he kept telling himself.
Not this time.
Then the first shot broke from his rifle and he started his count.
One, two, three, four.
He moved on to the krogan.
One, two three, four.
Meanwhile, 21. March 2417 AD, Omega, Zara District
The first shot that echoed down the street and through the corridor of tightly packed buildings sent a chill down Emily's spine. Her comrades likely felt the same. Be it N7, Blackwatch or any other soldier, everyone who had ever been on the wrong end of a sniper rifle could relate to the kind of fear and stress the first shot of a marksman triggered. If not for the fact that she could tell that the rounds weren't going their direction, Emily would've already been darting for cover by the time the sound of the second shot reached them three seconds later.
"Sounds like a Mantis," Callius remarked in between shots. Considering that she was likely very familiar with the weapon herself, Emily was inclined to trust Callius' assessment. After another shot, she nodded. "Definitely a Mantis. And probably Vakarian too."
"How can you tell?" Shepard asked.
"The four second pauses. It's a trick they teach in army marksman school on Palaven. You can squeeze one more shot out of the heatsink that way," normally the N7 would've called that reaching. But considering that Lieutenant Callius had been leading the honor guard of the Blackwatch Legion long before Emily had ever even thought about joining the marines, it was safe to assume that the turian knew what she was talking about when it came to the turian military.
"Then we need to leg it," Leng added during a longer break before the four second paces picked up again. She looked around for a second and then moved her team into cover further down the road. They were running against the clock, yes, but she'd only get one shot at this. After kneeling down by a dumpster in a sidestreet, Emily opened up a map with her omni-tool. Charging down the street and into the fighting in the hopes of finding Garrus by looking where the enemy was shooting was stupid, especially considering how outnumbered they were. They had to know where he was before the could make their move and to do that, she had to think like Garrus. While the Mantis shots continued to echo down the streets, the N7 looked at the buildings surrounding the casino and asked herself where she'd be if she was an angry C-SEC detective with a sniper-rifle and a desire for vengeance for anyone in the casino. Her eyes narrowed on the highest construction in the area. A storage building. It was high, had enough windows to switch positions f needed and the walls would probably make for decent cover.
If she was wrong about this, Garrus would probably-
No.
She didn't want to think about that right now.
"Let's move."
Two Minutes Later, 2158 CE, Omega, Zara District, 273799 Zara District
One, two, three, four.
Another shot cracked; another enemy died.
Garrus moved his scope before he could see the Talon fall. He centered it on what little of a batarian leg he could see behind the cover and shot. The batarian fell out of cover and clutched his leg. Now his head was exposed.
One, two, three, four.
He squeezed the trigger and now the head was replaced by a red mist.
One, two, three-
Before he could finish his count, a round soured through the cracked window, shattered the glass completely and bounced off of his barriers, nearly shattering them in the process.
The counter-snipers had found him. He had been waiting for that to happen. Time to switch position.
He ducked and a second later, a second round hit the wall where his head had been. If they were a bit more coordinated, he'd be dead now. But since they weren't and he wasn't, he'd continue his onslaught.
He barged through the door, Mantis still in hand, tossed down another motion sensor and looked at the stairs.
Up a floor or down a floor?
If they came looking for him, every floor he went up would buy him some more time. Time was what he needed so he sprinted up the stairs and broke the doors to several more darkened rooms open so that light shone into them and that the sniper would look at the wrong rooms first. Then he slowly and carefully entered his actual position. Once there, he went to the window, lifted his rifle and got ready to shoot the counter sniper. First he looked at the casino roof. There was no one there. So he moved on to the sentry posts. After two blanks, he slowly scanned the third post and found what he was looking for. The barrel of a sniper rifle. He moved up and found a prone turian.
Then he pulled the trigger and killed him.
He started his count again and searched for more targets. They were growing less frequent than in the first few minutes. Still he found a salarian with poor cover awareness and killed him.
One, two, three-
Contrary to everything he had been taught, Garrus immediately stopped his count. There were two reasons for this, and both were noises. Firstly, one of his motion sensors had just been tripped. Secondly, the sound of a repulsive engine was rapidly closing in on him. Although he couldn't explain to himself how they'd get one, it sounded almost like gunship. Maybe the gunrunners had sponsored it? It didn't matter. He made a decision, switched to his Carnifex and turned towards the door. Then the next motion sensor, the one he had dropped a floor down below, was tripped.
Any second now.
He popped another stim-pack to give him a little edge and overcharged his barriers. Then he aimed his Carnifex into the middle of the door and waited. Not a second too late either. Just as he was in position, a figure in Black armor stepped into the frame. His sights went to where her heart should be and his finger slipped against the trigger, squeezed and-
"Friendlies!" a filtered voice called just as he spotted a white 'N7' symbol on the onyx chest of the new arrivals.
On pure instinct he relaxed on the trigger before he could even verify if that claim was true.
It was stupid.
But he got lucky.
He squinted while the sound of the gunship grew closer and mustered the human, no two humans, and one turian in front of him. Two N7s, one a female commander, the other a male with a rank insignia he didn't recognize, and one Blackwatch lieutenant.
What the-
He had expected Blue Suns.
Garrus looked at the empty stim-pack in his hand and then back to them.
Had he od'ed on combat drugs? Considering how many he had injected in the last hours, it honestly wouldn't surprise him if he did, but he had figured that the results would be his heart exploding, not hallucination.
It'd certainly reasonably explain the trio standing in front of him. After all, what would Council spec-op forces be doing on Omega?
"Easy. We're friendlies," the female said again and something about the voice sent ice through his veins.
He told himself that he recognized her, but he knew that he had to be wrong.
She was dead.
But as he looked at the commander, his gut told him to lower his gun and he complied. Then, despite the evidence telling him not to, he opened his mouth.
"Shepard?" he asked. It was as much a question as it was an underlying wish. He got ready for the 'no'.
"Good to see you, Garrus."
That voice.
But how?
He let go of the stim-pack and looked at the Blackwatch lieutenant.
"Do these things cause hallucinations?" he asked.
"How many did you take, Vakarian?" the lieutenant replied and strangely enough, Garrus got the feeling that they knew each other too.
He thought about it for a second.
Then it dawned on him.
Arterius' honor guard.
When he was about to say 'thrice the safety limit', he heard a loud whining sound climb down along the outside of the building and remembered the gunship.
"Oh crap," he muttered. He threw one more look at the trio. "Get down!" he called as he reached for his Mantis just as the grey craft, an old, turian-made Heliax, hovered into sight and spun up its main gun. They evidently hadn't located him yet so they just opted to strafe the floor from one end to the other. It started to fire and Garrus started to aim his rifle. He didn't know what he was thinking or how time slowed down, the most likely answer was probably his stim pack abuse. Without considering that he wouldn't survive a hit from the Heliax, Garrus fired until the heatsink of his Mantis was about to explode. The high-caliber rounds of the gunship punched through the walls and worked his way towards him. Just before they hit him, he fired of a final shot, which caused a jet of steam to shoot from his heatsink. By the look of it, he probably hit something important. A small flame started to burn on the wing of the gunship and in an instant, it turned into an explosion. It started to lose height. Then there was a final blue muzzle flash and in an instant, Garrus world was reduced to two sensations.
There was pain throughout his entire body, especially his face, and the desperate desire to cling to the rifle in his hand.
He clang to the barrel of his Mantis and wondered why it felt like half his face was missing. The he started to gurgle on blood. Just before he passed out, the ear on the half of his face that didn't feel like it had been split apart picked up three words.
"Hold on Garrus."
He'd do his best to oblige.
Codex: Taetrus
Taetrus, the capital of one of the most populous colonial clusters of the Turian Hierarchy, has had a tumultuous history ever since its founding. Starting with the end of the Unification Wars, the nationalistic taetrians, who were amongst the first to declare themselves independent in 551 BCE, have rebelled against Hierarchy rule on a regular, roughly century-based schedule. Although many separatist movements with many names have risen and fallen in the Diluvian Wildlands of Eluria, which used to be the Diluvian Crownlands, the basic idea behind all movements has remained the same.
They desire a return to the independent, monarchical system that governed them during the Unification Wars, the so-called 'Facinus'.
While the latest Taetrian Insurgency occurred in 2122 CE and ended with a Hastati crackdown on Madra, the hereditary capital of the once independent Taetrus before its reorganization into a Hierarchy colonial cluster, recent developments in the Mactare system suggest that another war on Taetrus might occur 'ahead of schedule'. Following the Battle of the Citadel and the relocation of troops to the galactic rim, many of the taetrians loyal to the Hierarchy have left their home on long-term deployments with their legions, leaving behind only a token native force supported by a contingent of non-native Hasatim from Oma Ker. This has caused the situation on the planet to destabilize and given rise to another Facinus-like movement, which unlike most of its predecessors, has opted to not use force but the Hierarchy's own political system against them.
Under the rule of their leader and acting judicator of the Elurian Administrative Sector, Kihilix Tanus, the Facinus movement has lit the fire of nationalism in parts of the taetrian populace and triggered waves of weekly protests in all major cities of the planet.
With no broken laws, armed insurgencies or public security concerns that would justify military action, the acting Primarch of the colonial cluster, Idus Valen, and other leading members of the administration have ordered native forces and the Oma Ker Hastatim detachment to stand down at the time.
A/N:
And here we have it. Garrus' back on the squad and Omega's over! Kind of... I mean he's dyign right now but I think you all know how this plot goes, despite me altering everything from canon other than "Garrus facetanks a gunship and doesn't die. We at bioware know it doesn't make sense, but he's Garrus and you like him so you won't care."
Furthermore, we get the "kick-start" of what's going to be Callius' 'loyalty quest', which as you might be able to guess by the chapter and the codex has something to do with the canon War on Taetrus (although I will admit to turnin Facinus on its head, since they seem to be communists in the actual canon.)
And we get more Mordin.
Have I already mentioned that I really like the guy?
If not, I think you can tell by the way he's written.
Other than that, we didn't actually do a lot than kill a whole bunch of people.
I will admit that there's a chance that I listened to the Punisher soundtrack while writing this because that's who Garrus turned into, at least form my point of view. I know people used to call him violent space batman... but let's be real, as Archangel he just straight up murdered everyone he liked and enjoyed doing it. Add the sniper rifle and that's really less Batman-y and more turian Frank Castle.
So I hope you enjoyed your weekly dose of Mass Punisher: The Adventures of Garrus John Archangel Bernthal Vakarian.
Up next: We'll actually see someone other than Shepard again, and well... also Shepard again... (Considering that we're five chapters in and haven't even gotten to "you've always been ugly garrus', I'm getting the feeling I'll have a hard time to stick to the 2X chapters I planned to devote to every part of the story but hey. If it happens, it happens. Fuck it.)
Review and let me know what you think.
Also, I think we might just break 1000 favorites and 1100 follows with this update. (but I can also see that not happening, as it usually does when I notice these things.) Either way, hey to everyone new... although I guess if you get to here, me saying hi in the A/N isn't exactly new soooo..
I'm rambling again. Sorry. Time to end it.
For the record, we're at 639 reviews, 997 favorites and 1095 follows.
See you around next time.
