The journey to Val Royeaux wasn't as meaningless as previously thought. They encountered a messenger from the leader of the rebel mages, Grand Enchantress Fiona. The messenger had somehow caught up with them, and explained that the mages wished to form an alliance.
A no-brainer of course, choosing between them and the Nazis, known hereabouts as Templars. Gil-Galad's group planned to make a stop and check in with Haven, then drive to Redcliffe where the mages had their headquarters.
Before they left the city, Gil-Galad, Solas, and Cassandra took a detour to investigate something or someone, some side quest or another Lopez couldn't be bothered to remember the exact details of. Either the sergeant forgot them deliberately, or by accident, it made no difference.
All she could recall was that they came back with quite possibly the most annoying elf she'd ever met. An archer named Sera.
She was some rogue-type, armed with a bow and little else, irregular military at best, at worst a partisan-type. She knew her stuff, but was extremely annoying. She kept staring at Lopez when they first met.
"That's some nice armor you have. Dwarven?" she asked, taking in every little detail.
"It's human. UNSC Marine Corps."
"Huh. Never seen anything like that. What's a 'youn-see Marine Corps'?"
"U-N-S-C. United Nations Space Command, it's an acronym." Lopez explained, "The Marine Corps is a branch of the UNSC Defense Force."
"Right, okay, but what's a marine?"
"Naval infantry, we fight on ships or on...on land."
"There's a name for those people?" Sera asked, "Huh. What is all your stuff made of?"
She peered at all the curious pockets with no visible clasps, the perfectly-fitting nature of the outfit, and how finely made it was. Not even the Dwarves could make something so perfect.
"I'm afraid that's classified."
"I'll figure it out."
After introductions had been made, Lopez had started the Warthog and prepared for an accusation of witchcraft.
To her surprise, Sera grinned, "Wow, that's great! No steam, no smoke, no rotten eggs! How fast does it go?"
Lopez looked at Henry beside her, who shrugged in confusion.
The marine turned back, "Excuse me?"
Sera gestured to the vehicle, "That's a Qunari thing, right? Or Dwarven? Those big black things with all the metal noise! Looks a lot better than the others."
Lopez shook her head, "No, it's a jeep. UNSC property. Human-made."
"Eh, whatever. Still looks nice. What makes it go?"
"Classified." Lopez said sharply.
Sera stepped around to the driver's side, "I'll figure it out. Ooh, look at all the shiny things!"
Thus began Lopez's constant monitoring of all her equipment. Sera had been eying just about everything in the vehicle, and the marine's armor, and had kept up incessant questions the whole ride down toward Haven. She struck the sergeant as one you would keep a hand on your wallet around.
The next step was to head to Redcliffe for negotiations with the rebel mages, and they loaded up accordingly. Cassandra was forced to stay behind, management of the inquisition demanding her attention, and Lopez simply refused to allow Varric to come along any longer.
"The damn 'hog's cramped enough as it is!"
Henry also stayed. The reason he only told to Lopez. He took possession of the salvage from the cargo pod, and set off to the abandoned mining complex in the mountains nearby.
Lopez, Gil-Galad, Sera, and Solas set out in a much lighter Warthog, headed toward Redcliffe. Along the way, they were to investigate possible allies who were willing to join the Inquisition, in particular, a mercenary unit known as "The Bull's Chargers", led by a Qunari warrior known as Iron Bull.
As they drove through a thick forest, the Warthog suddenly lurched, dipping through a massive pothole on the side of the road.
Lopez yanked the steering wheel hard, away from the side, and back onto the center. Concerned for damage, she glanced at the center console display. It was a digital screen, with four manual switches to flip between vehicle status, communications, navigation, and sensor data. A keypad was located between it and the throttle.
The top-down profile of the Warthog was all in blue, no damage registered. Double checking, she pulled down the other switches, making sure everything was intact. Navigation was already adjusting for similar potholes, correcting previous errors and adding additional recommendations.
She almost didn't see the new profile registered on the sensor sweeps.
High above and ahead of the racing Warthog, the little drone obediently scouted ahead for it's commander.
As it moved, a ghost of a signal reached its electronic sensors, steadily growing into a steady signature, pulsating with each beat of its owner's heart.
Excitedly, the drone shot a signal kilometers behind it, rapidly gobbled up by the Warthog's receiving array.
Lopez stared at the radar display, flipping back and forth between other systems to make sure it wasn't a glitch.
A green heartbeat.
Seconds later, as the drone drew closer, a group of yellow dots were revealed to be surrounding the green contact.
"Hang on!" the sergeant barked to her passengers.
All semblance of a leisurely pace vanished, Lopez pushed the pedal to the medal, tapping controls for the drone to help her find the optimal route to take. Within seconds, nav markers appeared in her Heads-up Display, as well as an outline of the path.
To the others suddenly thrown about in the vehicle, and clinging to it for dear life, her path was random and she barely avoided crashing many times.
"What's going on?!" Gil-Galad demanded from beside her, tightening his seat belt and clinging to a handle near his head.
"It's a Marine IFF tag!" Lopez shouted over the roaring wind, and the engine noise, "Looks like hostiles have surrounded him!"
"It's a what?!"
"Magic location marker, or whatever! Magic!"
As they drove on, the crack of a rifle could be heard in the distance. Single shots, and a few short controlled bursts.
Up until now, there hadn't been any contact with any UNSC survivors. As previously assessed, it didn't seem like there were any conventional escape pods that came down, with no radio transmissions, or any new IFF tags picked up. The tags were powered by the user's body, and were specifically designed to shut down while in cryo stasis. Otherwise they would read the user's heart as flatlined.
In the back of her mind she realized that it might not have been MacCraw, but one of the freezer occupants.
She couldn't tell either way, the drone wasn't designed to pick up the name of an individual soldier, unlike military scanners.
Typical CMA junk. Ridiculously prepared except when they aren't.
Hoping against hope, Lopez listened to the rifle. It certainly sounded like a high-powered rifle, of the MA5 family, but there were many different types of rifles like that in the UNSC Defense Force, and on the black market.
Lopez flipped her helmet mike down, "This is Scarlett 1-1 Actual, Sergeant Lopez, of the UNSC Red Horse to unidentified unit. We are en route to your position from the northwest, ETA five minutes. We are ready to provide fire support."
The sound of gunfire erupted from her earpiece, coinciding with a series of pops in the distance. A young male voice came over the channel. It wasn't MacCraw.
"I copy, Scarlett 1-1! This is Private Corlett, Bravo Company, 22nd Light Armored Recon Battalion, attached to the 79th Infantry Battalion, UNSC Pillar of Autumn!"
He paused to fire off another few shots, "I am pinned down behind a tree trunk! Wounded! Laying down coordinates!"
Lopez swerved to avoid a tree, disheartened that it wasn't MacCraw, but still in mama bear mode, "Copy that. How are you injured?" Lopez asked, swerving to avoid a tree.
The comm line was briefly silent, a burst of fire this time, "They shot me! They shot me with a freakin' arrow!"
"I can guess that. How are you injured? Is it anywhere near an artery?"
The line was silent again.
"Private Corlett!"
"They...they shot me in the ass, ma'am!"
"Thank you…" Lopez slammed on the brakes, swerving around a corner, before she glanced at the radio again, "Repeat your last?"
"I got shot in the ass, alright?! What's your ETA?!"
Ahead, the road rose up in a hill.
Lopez grinned, and went as fast as the Warthog would allow her to go.
It rocketed over the hill, catching some air, and coming down hard. A series of rapid bumps jostled its passengers.
Lopez hit the brakes, swinging the vehicle around until the driver's side faced the way they had come.
She pulled out her sidearm, and her crosshairs traveled from the first target to the second.
On her motion tracker, those last two bandits faded, leaving nothing behind but the dots in her vehicle and the one meters away and off the road.
Lopez clicked her seatbelt buckle, and hopped out, double-checking the remains of the speed bumps. Not one of the bandits had survived the impact, their skulls shattered by the heavy tires or the aluminum underbelly.
"Corlett! Private Corlett!" she called out, yanking her machete off her shoulder.
"Over here, Sarge!" a voice called. A man with blond hair, wearing a utility cap, goggles, old military surplus fatigues, a similarly-obsolete armored tactical jacket, sat up from behind a fallen tree. With one arm holding an MA5K carbine, he attempted to lever himself over the tree, but failed. His heavy pack weighed him down, constantly pulling him back.
Lopez jogged over, unclipped his pack, and dragged the private onto the log. A broken off arrow shaft was sticking out of a sensitive part of his upper thigh.
"Jesus...Someone get me the bio-foam!"
"The what?" Sera demanded, falling off the Warthog and attempting to get to her feet.
"The green bottle with the long nozzle sticking out of it! Gil, you get it!"
Corlett's eyes fluttered from the pain. His uniform wasn't even issued this century, designed to stop bullets, arrows, and teeth, and do not much else. Thus, it had no painkillers of any kind.
"Private Corlett, reporting for duty…" he tried a weak smile, but dropped his carbine to hold the wound.
"Great, another comedian." Lopez rolled her eyes. It felt good to be speaking english, despite the severity of the situation.
Gil-Galad appeared, handing her the biofoam before becoming quite sick.
Lopez, in one smooth motion, yanked out the arrow shaft and stuck the nozzle of the biofoam container inside.
The private yelped with pain as the foam fizzed, filling the wound and sealing it completely.
"You're fine. Think you can walk?"
His grimace of pain turned to one of mild serenity, and he didn't respond for a moment. He shook his head, "Oh, sorry. Hold on…"
Corlett sat up, and got onto one foot before gingerly setting the other down. Wincing, he reported, "Ready to go, Sarge."
"Don't try to be a hero. Go easy on that leg."
"Yes ma'am. You would not believe how glad I am to see…" he trailed off when he spotted Gil-Galad, recovering from car sickness. He also saw Solas and Sera, the former returning his gaze, and the latter kicking one of the bandit remains.
From a holster he withdrew an obsolete old-style Gyrojet pistol, Navy-issue, "Sarge, who are your friends?"
"Stow that weapon, private, they're on our side."
"But what about the ears?" he demanded.
"Private, I once knew a guy who's natural hair color was bright blue. This isn't that weird. Now, put your weapon down. That's an order."
At the last word, he immediately put the weapon back in its holster.
Must be a rookie. Man, my luck lately…"Now, my name is Sergeant Lopez. Where's the rest of your unit, Corlett? Where's your ship? And where'd you get that old pistol?"
Gyrojets, useful for zero-gee environments, hadn't been issued since before the Insurrection began.
"My unit's missing, Sergeant. As is my ship. I woke up in a frosty bed in the middle of a forest. I found an escape pod from some old transport, the Mona Lisa-"
Lopez immediately pulled out her own sidearm, "What did you see inside? Was there anything in there? Anything green and yellow and ugly as sin?"
The confused private stepped backwards, "What? No, nothing! It was empty!"
"Did you see anything escape, any motion out of the corner of your eye? Did you get bitten by anything?!"
"No, ma'am!" he replied in his best parade-ground voice, terrified out of his wits.
She grabbed his jacket and spun him around, looking for any evidence of the infection on his clothing, "Did you see anything in the equipment?"
"No, sergeant! What are you looking for?!"
Lopez stepped back, and quickly scanned him with her tricorder. Nodding in approval, she holstered her pistol, "Nothing...for now. You're clean."
Corlett stared at her, "Sarge, what are you-"
"It's classified. Forget about it. Your ship, the Pillar of Autumn?"
"Yes, sergeant."
"Where is she? What happened to her?"
Corlett shook his head, "No clue, ma'am. We went into the freezers after we left Reach, I assumed we were going back to the colonies. Next thing I know, I'm waking up here."
Lopez asked, "What do you last remember before going into the freezers?"
He grimaced, "Only our escape from Reach. My battalion, the 22nd, we weren't assigned to the Autumn. We were deployed in support of the Army attacking Szurdok Ridge. We were in reserve, so we didn't see much action. Certainly could watch, though."
Lopez tilted her head, "You were in the thick of it. I was up north, babysitting Sword Base until the call came down to evacuate. Well, evacuate my unit at least. Did you see the Grafton go down?"
Corlett nodded, avoiding eye contact, "Yeah, we saw it. Got pulled back. My company was separated from the rest of the battalion, sent to New Alexandria. All they had available I guess. We were outside the city when it got glassed, and we were ordered to go with the 9th Force Recon to the Aszod ship breaking yards, our only ticket out of there. Last few ships had left, except the Autumn. Barely got aboard, and a Covenant cruiser nearly blasted us. We got into orbit, jumped, went into cryo…"
Corlett shrugged, "Next thing I know, I'm waking up here. Where are we?"
"Unknown. My classified operation ended with me stuck in a civvie escape pod and shoved through a slipspace anomaly. Crashed here, made some friends with the locals."
She gestured to the retching elf beside her, "There's humans and these guys here. They're probably connected to the neo-luddites from the start of the war. Tread lightly when talking to them. I can't find any records of the United Nations, much less Earth. Looks like everything got erased. They've barely got germ theory back."
"Slipspace anomaly-" Corlett's eyes widened, "Are you telling me you made that giant hole in the sky?"
Lopez snorted, "I wish it was that simple, private. I have no idea what that thing is. Some weird slipspace portal that's managed to stay open for longer than even the Covies could. We're looking for some wizards and some of our own gear to try and close it. And before you ask, they've got some weird abilities here, but I have no idea what it really is."
Realizing Gil-Galad was just about done, she patted his shoulder, "This is Gil-Galad, in charge of a group called the Inquisition."
He glanced at both marines, confused. Gil-Galad could only pick up a smattering of words, and the new soldier's name, he hadn't had the chance for in-depth learning of english. He did hesitantly shake Private Corlett's hand, at least.
"Do you know what happened to the Autumn, Sergeant? Other survivors? Where's the rest of your unit?"
Lopez grimaced, and turned away, "My unit's almost totally KIA. Only three of us made us off that ship. I have no idea what happened to the Autumn. Here-" she activated controls to transmit the drone connection to his HUD, "All I can find are a bunch of auxiliary unit distress beacons. Freezers and crates. Last info I've got from your cruiser is she went missing after Reach. My guess? She made a bunch of random jumps, ended up here, then something happened and she broke up in orbit. Dunno why there's no bumblebee or kangaroo escape pods, maybe the crew was incapacitated, or the awake crew didn't have time to evacuate before she blew. I'm sorry."
Corlett blinked. He covered his mouth, "Oh god…"
Sera and Solas stumbled over, and his eyes fixed on their ears.
"How many are like that?" The private asked. He was reaching out like a drowning man, looking for any sort of distraction.
"A lot of them. Ask 'em yourself if you're so curious." Lopez rolled her eyes.
Corlett shrugged, opened his TACPAD, tapped a control, and stepped forward. His headset wirelessly connected to Lopez's equipment, downloading a copy of her Thedas language data.
Lopez facepalmed, muttering under her breath, "I didn't mean...fine, do it if you're so curious."
Gil-Galad was sick again, so the private glanced at Sera and Solas. More at Sera. "Uh, hey guys! What's with the ears? That some genetic engineering thing?"
The elves looked at each other, and Solas asked, "Excuse me?"
"I didn't mean ask about the ears!" Lopez hissed, but it was too late.
"Your ears. They're really long. I mean, I've seen some weird gene mods in the past. My old lieutenant was from the Éire colony, and she had hair green as a shamrock! Another guy, Pete Armand, was from Ganymede, and he has adaptive bone marrow...okay, you couldn't really see that, but for the first few days in boot camp he couldn't lift heavy things. Anyway, I've seen some weird mods, but I've never seen anything like your ears. What's with them?"
Lopez was rubbing the bridge of her nose. Great. We're either gonna die, or gonna get a bunch of superstitious nonsense.
Sera blinked rapidly, then turned to Solas, whose expression remained neutral-yet-off, "Okay, you speak their language. What did he say? Because I could have sworn he said something about our ears!"
Solas ignored her, "You said 'mods'. I assume that is short for 'modification'. Modification of what?"
Corlett stared, "You know, they're gene mods. Colonists use them to survive on different planets."
"Human colonists, I assume?" Solas inquired.
"Duh."
"What did he say?" Sera demanded, "Because I heard 'ears'!"
Solas' expression changed again, "I believe he thinks we're odd-looking humans."
Gil-Galad staggered over, "What? We're elves, not humans."
Sera threw up her hands, "I can't go anywhere without someone talking about the ears!"
Corlett flushed, "Uh…"
Solas' voice was calm, but cold, "We are not humans. Aesthetic similarities aside, we are two completely different species."
Lopez reluctantly nodded, "Yep, they're aliens. Trust me, I checked."
Corlett somehow became even redder, "Oh shit, shit! I am so sorry! I didn't mean-Ah, shit!"
Sera made an aggressive move forward, and Gil-Galad managed to step between the two.
Corlett half-heartedly raised his carbine, but Lopez forcibly shoved it down, "Stand down, marine! These are friendlies!"
She turned back to the elves, "You lay a hand on him, and I'll see it takes you six weeks to die! You can all stand down! So he made a little mistake, big fucking deal! I made the same mistake for a while, you gonna lynch me too?!"
"You didn't talk about my ears!" Sera snapped.
"Sera, it doesn't matter! Let it go!" Gil-Galad snarled.
"Why aren't you mad?!" she demanded, "You're all elfy!"
"Sera, calm down! By Fen'harel's teeth, he's just a boy!"
Sera moved her glare away from Gil and onto Corlett, past Lopez's hostile gaze. The marine stood unevenly on his leg, his weapon shaking somewhat in his hands. Lopez is pretty stupid about this stuff sometimes too, she thought, was it really just an innocent question?
She relaxed, still glaring at Corlett. "Just this once, you."
The rest of the group relaxed somewhat.
Solas spoke up, "Private Corlett, have you never seen an elf before?"
He shook his head, "Never."
The bald elf frowned, "Interesting. Lopez, when did you first see members of our kind?"
"When I first got here." she answered warily.
"Neither of you have seen elves before us?" Gil-Galad asked in disbelief, "How?"
"We're not from around here," Corlett explained, "We're from the United Nations Space Command."
Lopez held up a hand, "They know that, Private. Remember rules of first contact."
"But sarge-"
"Private, lock it down."
Solas' expression shifted somewhat, still unreadable.
Sera was befuddled, "Where do you come from? Everywhere I've gone everyone's at least heard of elves!"
"We have-" Corlett shut up.
Gil-Galad rubbed his face, taking a deep breath. "Everyone, it's been a long day. We have more time to spend in the back of that blasted horseless carriage, and it will only be made worse if we are holding grudges. Can we agree to put our arguments on hold until this mission is over?"
Lopez nodded, "I can keep my man under control. Can you say the same for your people?"
Gil-Galad glanced at Solas and Sera. Reluctant, they nodded.
"Well then. Let us get back on the road."
Gil-Galad and Sera returned to the Warthog.
Before the others could do the same, Solas spoke up once again, "Sergeant, do you not wish to tell him of the other survivor from your ship? Henry?"
Lopez blinked, then glared at the elf.
Corlett looked at her, "What's he talking about?"
Lopez's hands balled into fists, "I said there were three survivors of my unit, right?"
"Yeah...where are they, anyway?" the private glanced around as if they were going to come out of the woods.
"One is missing. I thought you were him before I talked to you, actually. He took one escape pod, me and the third guy took another."
"Okay, where's the third guy? Is that Henry?"
Lopez nodded, "Private, he's the only reason I'm alive. You need to understand that. The only way we survived was helping each other. Henry kept my squad alive when I couldn't."
"Sarge, what's the big deal? Is he a convict or something? I'm gonna guess you were on the Mona Lisa. I don't care if he was a convict, we're all humans, right?"
"He is not human, he is a Sangheili Special Operations Officer." Solas stated.
Corlett stared at him. He looked at Lopez, and a grin started to form, "You're kidding me, right? A hinge-head? C'mon…"
The sergeant's grim expression confirmed it.
"Sarge...what is going on? What is he talking about?"
Lopez scratched the back of her head, "Henry is a nickname for a...for a hinge-head. An Elite. Can't pronounce his real name. He was a POW that members of my squad picked up. He helped us fight, and kept my kids alive. He also managed to find a way to get both of us off the ship when there was only one space left in the pod. We've been surviving here together. He's back at the headquarters for these guys, working on a special project."
Corlett asked, "Wait, so he turned on his own people?"
"I can neither confirm nor deny that. Everything about my mission is classified. He fought alongside us is all I can say."
"But...he's an Elite!"
"I'm aware."
"Has...well, hasn't he tried to kill you? Isn't that what they do? He's a dino, isn't he?"
Lopez snorted, "We both tried to kill each other. Eventually we gave up. He's got no gear other than a cricket bat and a hatchet. I had to make a snowsuit for him out of a parachute so he wouldn't freeze to death!"
"But sergeant!" Corlett looked like someone had asked him if the sky was blue, "he's a dino!"
"I am aware."
"So…! We can't just-"
"Listen, Marine!" Lopez snapped.
Corlett froze, his eyes wide.
"We are stranded here. We are stuck. Unless there were any Condors on your ship that made it here intact, we're not getting rescued anytime soon. The number of UNSC personnel we have I can count on one hand. The number of people who know a damn about anything past swords is that plus one. That hinge-head is the only reason I'm still here to save your ass. Trust me, no one hates Elites more than I do. I'm no traitor. But we need him. He has skills we need, he has Intel that could prove vital to the war effort. If anyone's killing him, it's me. You don't have to like him. But we can't kill him."
He looked at her, a mix of emotions running through his wide eyes.
"Ma'am...isn't this fraternization with the enemy? I mean, okay, you vouch for this shark, but what if an officer made it off the ship?"
"He's good for Intel, private. Don't worry, if anything bad happens, I'll take responsibility. You'll be alright kid, I promise."
Corlett looked down at his rifle, fidgeting. His obvious doubt of a stranger wrestling with his training to follow the sergeant.
He must've been new, with the way he seemed to already have faith in Lopez. "I guess I'm okay with keeping him around..."
Lopez nodded, "Alright. You good? Let's get moving."
Solas had watched the whole exchange, noting every word and body language. Intriguing.
They walked back to the Warthog, and Corlett asked Lopez, "What's been happening since Reach?"
Lopez sighed, "Things aren't going well back home. We've got our backs against the wall. When my ship left, everything was pointing toward Earth. They were pulling every ship they could back to Sol. Proxima Centauri and our base at Beta Durani fell."
"Proxima III's gone?" Corlett gasped, "But...but the 8th fleet! The Punic!" To think that a UNSC supercarrier, one of the most powerful and one of the largest ships in the fleet, could be destroyed, was always a blow to morale.
"Gone. They deployed in Proxima Centauri, couldn't protect both colonies what with war losses. The 8th managed to take the Covies by surprise, catching them with their shields down. Then they made an in-system jump like Cole did, and jumped out, while the Punic stayed in orbit."
"What happened to her?" whispered Corlett, his heart sinking.
Lopez looked into the distance, "The Covies were pissed at the losses, and she was sitting there in orbit, so they charged her...right into the asteroid mining cluster. Hit a minefield, then got shelled by mass drivers. Punic took down a lot of their ships, but took heavy damage. She crashed into their supercarrier, set her reactors to critical. Took out most of the Covie fleet, then our guys came charging in to mop up the rest of them. Technically we won, but the shipyards were gone, and a ton of junk started falling out of orbit. The colony's going through a nuclear winter."
Corlett cursed, "I had family there. My sister was a zero-gravity constructor at Station Schirra."
Lopez patted him on the shoulder, "We only managed to take out so many ships because we got word they were coming. The transports were pouring out even after nuclear winter started. If she's a constructor, she's valuable. She probably got out."
Corlett slumped, "She always did things no one else wanted to do, but needed to be done. She must've been one of the ones who stayed with the mass drivers."
Lopez asked, "She civilian or military?"
"Civilian worker on military dock."
"There you have it. There might have been a few volunteers, but most of the guys who stayed probably would've been military. They just wouldn't allow many civilians to stay. Even if she tried to, maybe her supervisor forced her onto a transport or something. That happens all the time. Even if she might be dead, don't lose hope unless you see a body. I had a cousin and her family the rest of my relatives thought were dead when Madrigal got hit. Seven years later, I ran into them, along with a bunch of Innies in an asteroid colony my ship was investigating. We rescued the colony from the bad guys, with a big-ass asteroid ship, and got them back to UNSC space. Don't give up on her just yet."
He nodded solemnly. "Yes ma'am."
Lopez patted him on the back, a little hard, "I mean it."
"I heard scuttlebutt about some deep patrol ops," Corlett muttered, some positivity leaking into his voice, "Some super weapons too. And Earth was getting the Big Sticks online. Maybe FLEETCOM can wipe out their fleet when they attack, and we can turn the tide…"
Lopez glanced at his hopeful expression, remembering many faces just like his over the years, remembering those same faces gone from roll call. Shredded by plasma fire, scarred by experience.
"Yeah, sure. Fight isn't over till it's over."
XXXXX
They continued on their journey to the Chargers, finding the group's last known location in yet another sea bay. Rain pounded down on the Warthog's windshield, and Lopez could swear she'd been in this exact same sea bay before.
Private Corlett was in the passenger seat, tapping away on a laptop built into the vehicle.
"The storm's screwing with the drone, Sarge." he reported, the screen flickering with static, "How long has it been up there?"
Lopez glanced down at the display on the center column, showing a smaller view of what Corlett was seeing. She punched it, and the snow vanished.
"You didn't answer my question, ma'am."
"I don't have to. It'll be fine."
In a window of Corlett's laptop, a panoramic view displayed feed from the drone's cameras. He could just make out the bucking motion of the little vehicle as it rode the wind.
"If you say so…" he muttered.
Sensors eventually picked up a significant number of thermal signatures on a beach. The signatures were all clustered in amongst each other, but there was a distinct line between the two; this combined with their overlapping shapes meant they were likely fighting. In preparation, Corlett folded up the laptop, and edged up in the seat, bracing himself against the roll cage and allowing him a 270 degree field of fire.
"Single shots, Private, we gotta save ammo." instructed Lopez.
Engine roaring, the Warthog shot along the road toward a low hill between them and the beach; the road led through a small pass in the center of it.
They caught air as they hurtled onto the beach, speeding past a beached boat and toward the group of heat signatures.
Figures in Tevinter armor, Venatori, were combating others in mismatched plate armor. They were obviously the Chargers, led by the highly visible Iron Bull; the big horned one-eyed Qunari dressed in the same gear and carrying a sledgehammer.
The fighting briefly stopped as they saw the vehicle approach.
Corlett's put his targeting reticule down on the center of a Venatori man's chest. The reticule turned red, and he pulled the trigger. The man doubled over, clutching the wound, but the private had already swapped targets.
Pow! Another man went down.
Pow! An archer fell, his drawn arrow released into the sky.
Lopez hit the brakes, water and rocks tossed up from the ground. The party leapt from the back, and took a moment to recover. Solas and Gil-Galad began flinging spells at the enemy, Sera delivered arrows, but the marines conserved their ammo.
The chargers moved into action again, taking down the rapidly dwindling Venatori. They quickly broke ranks and fled, sending a ragged cheer through the Charger ranks.
Iron Bull stepped in front of his soldiers when they tried to pursue, "Chargers, stand down!"
He glanced at one of his men, "Krem, how'd we do?"
"Five or six wounded, none dead!"
The Qunari grinned, "That's what I like to hear. Let the throat cutters finish up, then break out the casks."
He looked at the party a dozen meters away, "You with the Inquisition? Glad you could make it! C'mon and sit down, drinks are on the way!"
Lopez hadn't been listening. The instant she heard his orders to his men, she sprinted toward a charger kneeling down next to a writhing Tevinter.
The charger took out a knife, and she reached for the Venatori's neck, before the sergeant slammed the butt of her MA5B into the woman's head.
Flipping the rifle around, she pointed it at another two nearby readying their own knives, "Drop 'em!"
When they didn't respond fast enough, she fired a shot at the ground, "Now, damn it!"
Corlett caught up with her, adding further encouragement. The chargers stepped away from the moaning wounded.
Their comrades surrounded Lopez and Corlett, knocking arrows and raising weapons. However, none were as impressive as the massive commander stomping toward Lopez.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" he demanded, "You pick on my soldiers, and you have to deal with me!"
Iron Bull noted many things about the newcomer. She was a head taller than the humans he normally ran into, nearly reaching his shoulders. She was much more fit and well-fed than many he'd seen in a long time. Her armor was light in shape, but exuded a sense of strength and intimidation, much like elven armor. It was covered in materials and devices he'd never seen before. She carried a weapon of a sort that barely resembled any he'd seen of a similar type. Just like her vehicle, things like that were never seen outside Qunari territory.
Over her eyes, under her strange helmet, was visor made of a clear thin material. Not glass, but something else.
Her comrade was a little shorter than she was, and didn't wear obvious armor, but he carried a weapon like hers, the eye covering, and a uniform with the same symbols as hers.
Both of their outfits were primarily a dark green, with the male's uniform mixed with brown in patterns.
As if those weren't strange enough, he had absolutely no idea who they could be. Now that, was unusual.
The woman was likely the superior; on a shoulder pad were three stacked chevrons, while the man had only a single chevron.
She would be tough to deal with diplomatically. In most circumstances, he could rely on charm, or intimidation to get by, but this human didn't seem like the type to respond to the latter. He searched for hints of fear in her eyes, but there was nothing. There was only cold determination and rage. The former might not work so well either...
Lopez, breathing heavily, and barely containing her outrage, replied, "I am Sergeant Lopez of the UNSC Marine Corps. As a representative of the United Nations, I am obligated to enforce the rules of the Geneva Convention! Maybe you can explain why your troops were going to murder helpless prisoners?!"
"Sarge, what are you doing?" Corlett demanded, "I don't think UN rules work here!"
"Sergeant, please, lower your weapon!" Gil-Galad cried.
"I won't! I am going to do my job!" Lopez barked.
Iron Bull growled, "You kill all the bad guys, then turn around and attack us?! I thought the Inquisition wanted our help!"
"I repeat, why did you order your men to kill these prisoners?"
Iron Bull raised an eyebrow, "What does it matter?"
"Captain, mistreatment of prisoners is a human rights violation, and a war crime. Furthermore, under the United Nations Mercenary Convention, mercenary groups are considered illegal. You have no rights as a combatant or a prisoner of war. As we are currently in an active war zone, under article 47 of Protocol 1 of the Geneva Convention, as a mercenary you and your unit are unlawful combatants, and therefore cannot be judged under the third Geneva Convention. I am arresting all of you, to be judged under the fourth Geneva Convention."
"Sarge?!"
"Sergeant Lopez!"
"You're really going to arrest me? On what charge?!" Iron Bull demanded.
"Abuse of prisoners! Being a mercenary! Recruitment, use, financing, and training of mercenaries!"
"I don't recognize your authority!"
"That's real tough! That means you're not covered under the fourth Geneva Convention!"
Gil-Galad came closer, "Sergeant, we came to recruit him, not arrest him!"
"He's not someone we want! He has a right to a fair trial, and that's it!"
"Sergeant, your military may have rules of war, but nations around here don't have any. I'm not proud of it, but even the Inquisition's soldiers have committed acts such as this. It's simply the way things are!"
Lopez turned toward him, "That's going to change. That is all going to change. As of this moment, I am going to begin enforcement of the United Nations Charter, and international law. Something I should've done when I got here."
Iron Bull put a hand on her shoulder, "Who in the world are you? Where did-"
Lopez swept her rifle butt into his face. Hard. Enough to stagger him.
"Shut up. We're talking."
She turned back to Gil-Galad, "You're in charge of the Inquisition. Either you get them to sign onto the Geneva Convention, and all the other laws, or Corlett and I are out of here."
"I-"
"Choose now! I can get you all the documents! You get us, or you get nothing!"
Gil-Galad swallowed, but his voice was steady, "I will ensure it is done. And I will try to convince the Dalish to do the same."
"Are we really having this conversation now?!" Corlett demanded, "We've got about a dozen angry shitheads pointing arrows at us!"
"And one angry Qunari!" Iron Bull said, "What is going on here?!"
Lopez raised her rifle, but Gil-Galad stepped between the two, "Might we come to a compromise? Iron Bull, we came to recruit you for the Inquisition."
"I'm thinking about withdrawing that offer…"
Gil Galad grunted in Lopez's direction, and continued, "Would you be willing to officially enlist in the Inquisition's armed forces, in exchange for a pardon of all charges? You'd have to give up being mercenaries, however, and agree to not become a mercenary group again once your service is up."
"If autonomy is something you want, you could be an irregular force." Corlett suggested.
"Private, don't help him." Lopez snapped, "Captain, you're going to have to provide medical aid to the wounded, and deliver them to the nearest Inquisition force."
Iron Bull considered it, "Will we get paid?"
"That's what 'employment' means, Captain." Lopez growled.
"Fair enough…" Iron Bull sighed, "You're probably the only ones who could afford us, and I don't want to be on the losing side of those guns."
While Gil negotiated, Lopez stalked off back toward the Warthog.
Corlett followed her, afraid of being left alone with the...locals.
Lopez kicked one of the hog's tires, making the recon soldier jump.
"Jeez, Sarge, what's got you all riled up? The Covies never followed the Geneva Convention-"
Lopez cursed, "Do we?"
"Of course we do!"
"Not anymore."
Corlett paled, "What?"
Lopez winced, "It's Classified. Everything's classified. Classified," she kicked the tire again, "Classified," another kick, "Classified!" Kick. "Classified!"
"Classified doesn't help my squad's families! Classified doesn't bring them back! Classified never saved anyone!"
From a pocket she brought out a jangling set of a dozen dog tags, tied together with a carabiner, "They're dead! They're all dead, because of ONI and their damn experiments!"
She sagged against the vehicle, "What does classified even mean anymore? The Epsilon Eridani Fleet's gone, Reach is gone, Beta Durani, Proxima Centauri…Classified doesn't mean a damn thing anymore."
The sergeant made a decision, "The Red Horse was sent to this debris field in the middle of nowhere, way off the beaten path. It was all really weird, our AI was replaced with some stuck-up greek bitch, and our Commander Foucault had all sorts of classified orders. I don't know what the wreckage is from, but whatever it was, it was big. We picked up escape pods from a prison transport, the Mona Lisa, pretty far away from anywhere it should be. There was only one survivor, but he didn't last long. The skipper sent my squad, along with a pilot, three engineers, and an extra doc, so we could figure out what was going on, and to burn out the nav data. We went in, killed some Covie prisoners who'd escaped. Lost one of my kids to one of them. We split up to carry out the Cole Protocol, my fireteam to the bridge, a second to engineering, led by my medic Benti, and a third to guard the Pelican."
Her hands twitched, "My guys at the Pelican...dunno what happened to them. We lost contact with the Pelican and Benti. Then we found out what was going on. Rescued a survivor, an ONI Major John Smith."
She punched the Warthog, "The ship was infested with this thing called The Flood. It makes whoever it infects get up and turn into a damn-near unstoppable killing machine. Smith's team was experimenting on it, on human and Covie prisoners. He said they wanted a cure, but they wanted a weapon more, if they wanted to cure it at all."
"What?!" Corlett squeaked, "A...a bioweapon? But…No, it couldn't be..."
"Private, we found a ton of data. We found video! They deliberately infected hinge-heads and convicts just to see what would happen!"
She pointed at a dent in the armor on her side. Several small pockmarks left by 7.62mm rifle rounds, "The bastard killed one of my men, shot at me, and stole the Pelican. Hell, maybe he shot my pilot, I don't know how. He abandoned us, told Foucault we were dead, then ordered him to fire a nuke at the Mona Lisa. One thing Foucault did for us, the one thing, was tell us about two more escape pods left. Everyone not infected ran there, what was left of Benti's group, myself, and the only survivor of my team, MacCraw. Henry was one of the two survivors Benti's team picked up. We find out the pods can only fit one each, and then one of my kids-Clarence, he turned out to be a fucking ONI plant. He shot the other survivor, but Benti…"
She swallowed, "Benti pushed him into the zombies, taking herself with him. MacCraw, the idiot, took one of the pods, and Henry and I took the other."
The sergeant shrugged, "There was something wrong with the thing's jump engines, I guess a bunch of the pods got pulled into a slipspace portal, including us."
She held up the dog tags again, "There were eighteen of us, and I got seven of these things. ONI decided to violate every law on the treatment of prisoners in one sitting, left us for dead, killed sixteen of my kids, the entire crew of that freighter, its prisoners, all those POWs, and tried to kill me. The Covies burn worlds like pot roasts, and yet they never tried to use bioweapons on us. They never experimented on prisoners, they never did anything like that. I trust Henry now more than I'll trust a spook ever again."
Staring at the dog tags, Lopez concluded, "...So you'll understand if I don't approve of anyone not having a Geneva Convention. Not while I'm still breathing. The Inquisition's going to follow the rules of war, or we leave. That's it."
Corlett was quiet, and pale. He slowly looked down at his jacket, and his shirt. Gingerly, he lifted his arms up, "Sarge...the infection, how does it spread? Do I need to burn these?"
"Kid, you should be fine. How long have you worn those?"
"A few days…"
"If you aren't trying to eat my brains, you're fine."
He relaxed a little, tightening his lips, not knowing what else to say. "I'm sorry about your squad."
"Thanks." she put the tags back in her pocket, "Here's hoping we can find yours."
Corlett looked down the beach toward the crowd of Chargers, "Company's coming."
Lopez turned to see Gil-Galad and his party approaching, with Iron Bull behind them.
Lopez took her sidearm out of its holster when they finally arrived, "What is he doing here?"
"Uh, Sarge…"
"Gil! Answer me!"
Gil-Galad held up a hand, "He's volunteered to serve as a frontline bodyguard, and volunteered his unit to follow us to Redcliffe."
"We appreciate the help, but we don't need you as a bodyguard." Lopez said.
"Those weapons of yours, is their ammunition limited?" Iron Bull asked.
"They have a large stockpile, but it will run out eventually." Solas replied before Lopez could speak. "You may have noticed she keeps a sword with her."
"I'm gonna guess you don't know when your next resupply is coming either, do you? Well, then you might need an extra hand."
Lopez worked her jaw, he's got a point. Was that a guess, or does he know how guns work?
"Fine. Any more bombshells to drop?"
Idioms still didn't translate quite right. She rolled her eyes, "Anything else significant we need to know?"
Sera shrugged, "He's with the Ben-Hassarath, does that count?"
"What's that?" Lopez's thumb moved down on the safety of her pistol.
Gil-Galad made an odd expression, "They're a Qunari organization, the equivalent of guards, city watch…"
"They're a sort of Secret Police," Iron Bull said evenly, "Though I'm closer to spies."
Lopez raised her pistol, targeting reticule right next to his eye patch, "You had better tell me Ferelden's relationship with the Qunari, or you're going home in a body bag."
"They're neutral!" Gil-Galad said quickly, "Not exactly friendly, but they're neutral!"
"Why are you here?" Lopez demanded, "What are your orders?"
"I don't really have to tell you anything, I'm only supposed to report to the people in charge of the Inquisition." Iron Bull had to look down at her to maintain eye contact, "Where do you fit in with the chain of command?"
Gil-Galad answered Lopez, "He's supposed to help deal with the Breach, and send reports on what's happening. However, he gets reports from all over the area, and is going to share them with our people."
Lopez lowered her pistol slowly. He might have intel on the Autumn. Maybe someone even saw her explode.
"Fine. Fine!"
She pushed her pistol back in its holster, "Fine. Let's hope the Warthog doesn't shatter under the weight of his fat ass."
Glancing at Iron Bull, she pointed at his soldiers further down the beach, "Your Chargers will tend to those wounded, and pass them to the nearest Inquisition unit; there should be one a few klicks that way. Then, they'll will follow us, though I doubt they could keep up. Just tell them to head to Redcliffe."