I don't own Mass Effect or the AvP franchise
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Eden Prime
Run, run, run, as fast as you can; you won't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread man! Why did that stupid old children's rhyme keep playing in her mind? It wasn't even appropriate. No matter how fast she went, they were definitely capable of catching up with her. Or with anyone else for that matter. Fucking Williams' curse strikes again. Trapped on a planet when the alien invasion comes in. Doesn't matter if they're dinosaur birds, or robots with flashlights for heads, or anything else. If your name is Williams, you're screwed.
There were at least two enemies behind her, with more on the way, and some sort of drone keeping track of her. Where's an M56 smartgun when you need it? Stupid question. Pennyloafer has it. Or, more accurately, it's still attached to her corpse, lying in the dirt, along with the rest of Dogsquad. She shook her head as she ran, zigzagging to avoid the fire from her pursuers. No time to mourn. Not if you want to live long enough to actually mourn them. What would I do with a smartgun anyway? Cannot shoot while running away. Hey, maybe I can turn in mid-stride and slide over the ground on my back while shooting at them like this is some cheap action vid! Yeah, right. I'd be dead before I'd moved a meter. Rocks up ahead, trees beyond it. Cover. If I can get behind those rocks, at least I can take a few with me before I die fighting. They'll find my corps with bullet holes in the chest instead of the back. No more talk of Williams' cowardice.
Ashley Williams, Gunnery-Chief, last survivor of Dogsquad, and, if it were up to the enemy, soon-to-be-dead-woman dove behind a rock. Not a moment too soon. A last salvo perforated the air just behind her. Cover! Cover is good. Cover is great. Now if I can just deal with the ones behind me, I can break contact and maybe-
A soft humming noise interrupted her thoughts. The drone. That piece of crap has to go too or I'll never get clear! She checked her ammo status. It didn't look good. Her old Lacrimae assault rifle -the 212 hadn't received the new weapons yet- could carry one-hundred rounds in its drum magazine. Unfortunately, each marine only carried one of those. Once it was gone, the only reloads were standard thirty-round boxes and she was down to her last two magazines, one, only half-full, in the weapon and one full mag in reserve. She still had her sidearm with a full magazine. But pistol rounds weren't going to be very useful in taking down shields. The grenade situation was even worse. She only had three of those left in her rifle and no further reloads. The good news was that she probably wouldn't need them. Despite being made of metal, those robots weren't particularly tough once their shields were down.
Ashley risked a quick glance around the rock. Sure enough, the drone was hovering overhead, moving around a little, but by-and-large just keeping station. Behind it, two robots were approaching on foot, or whatever they had instead of feet. She took a deep breath. Three targets, all of them armed. No room for errors. This is gonna be close!
She fired a burst into one of the robots and saw its shields flicker and die. Now if I can get in a few more-
Return fire flashed from both robots and the drone and Ashley ducked back into cover. Not good. She needed to get the next hit in before its shields came back up. Against one target it would be easy enough. Her armour would take its return fire long enough for her to finish it off. But three of them was just too much and she didn't have a kinetic barrier of her own. Fucking penny-pinching bureaucrats; fucking politicians. Always babbling about wanting a strong defence, but they cannot be bothered to get us some decent protection. If they'd ever been under fire themse-
A sharp crack and the flashlight head on her target seemed to explode. She knew that sound: The high calibre rifle variant of the new Dracos. Marines! Had to be. Maybe she wasn't going to die after all.
A blue shimmer rippled through the air, and the second robot stumbled back as though it had been slapped by some invisible hand.
WTF? Biotics? Where the hell did that come from?
More gunfire erupted from the treeline behind her, tearing the drone above her apart. No time to play twenty questions. There is still one of them out there. She rolled out of cover, firing at the last surviving target, which has only just begun to recover from the biotic attack. This time, there was no return fire as it had switched its attention to whoever was firing from the trees. Her second burst went through the shields and into its leg, sending it sprawling to the ground. One more salvo and it was gone.
Figures emerged from behind the trees, cautiously moving forward. Human figures.
Lightweight hardsuits, all of them shielded. Definitely not garrison troops. Only marines on ship assignment get those kinds of toys. Where did they come from? Wait, is that an N7 badge? Marines that had successfully completed the N7 training were always assigned to Special Forces, and as far as she knew there wasn't a single Spec-Ops unit anywhere near Eden Prime.
The woman with he N7 batch glanced at her. "Report."
Okay, that tone is familiar. Impatient officer variant #3. Could be worse. #2 would be blaming me for not reporting already. And #1 would figure they already know everything and just not bother to listen at all.
She jumped to attention. "Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, ma'am. 2nd Frontier division, Unit 212, Dogsquad."
"Commander Shepard. I'm in command here."
Wait, Shepard? THE Shepard? There was no time to ponder that question.
"Where is your unit, Chief?"
"They- They're gone, ma'am. All of them."
"I see. Keep talking."
"Ma'am. We'd been assigned as outer perimeter guard for the prothean dig site. Everything seemed normal until the comms went down. At first, we thought it was some kind of problem with the satellite. It's happened before. We were still trying to regain contact with headquarters when we saw a ship landing at the spaceport."
"A ship?" That got the officer's attention. "What kind?"
"I don't know ma'am. I've never seen anything like it before. It looked like, like a giant flying horseshoe, if you know what I mean."
"A horseshoe?"
"Yes, ma'am. And it was big. Must have been cruiser sized. Bigger than anything I've ever seen land on a planet. Next thing we knew, there were these robots everywhere. We finally managed to get a message through, but nobody answered."
"We heard your message," another marine remarked. He had lieutenant stripes on his hardsuit, as well as batches marking him as both a biotic and a combat technician. He moved past her and knelt next to one of the destroyed robots. "What are these things? I've seen combat mechs before, but nothing like this."
Ashley looked from one officer to another.
"Well, chief," the commander asked. "Any thoughts?"
"Ma'am, I think these are geth."
"Geth?"
"Definitely geth." A new voice spoke up. A very strange voice, coming from something that definitely didn't belong here. Ashley lifted her rifle as a turian in black and red armour walked out from between the trees.
The commander lifted a hand. "Easy, chief. He's with us. Sort-of. Chief Williams, meet Nihlus Kryik, Council Spectre. He's here for the prothean beacon."
"This is worrisome, Commander," The turian continued. "Very worrisome. There have been no confirmed geth sightings outside the Perseus Veil since they drove out the quarians, three hundred years ago. Their appearance here has to be related to the beacon. But how would they even know about it?"
Commander Shepard shrugged. "You knew about it, Kryik. I knew about. Half of Eden Prime must have known about it; as did USM HQ and the General Assembly, and the Citadel Council, and everyone they must have told. This wasn't a secret by any standards."
"Among organics, no. But the Geth don't operate in Citadel Space. They are not in contact with the rest of the galaxy."
"So they're spying on us? Big surprise there."
"You don't understand, Commander." The turian actually seemed to become agitated. "The geth are AIs. If they're spying on us, they may have infiltrated our systems. That would mean rogue AIs inside computer systems all over the galaxy!"
Shepard shrugged again. "Or they've just been sitting in some uninhabited system in-between mass relays, listening to our transmissions. There is a lot of empty space out there, with plenty of places to hide. Didn't we have a conversation about that earlier today? Besides, if your cybersecurity is so bad that a complete AI can make it through the firewall without even being detected, you might as well give up. So, let's not borrow trouble here. It's an academic question anyway. For now, let's focus on securing the beacon. Alenko, are those drones of yours still up?"
The lieutenant nodded. "They're up and scanning, Commander."
"Good, keep them moving. You can bet there are more of those things up ahead. I don't want any more surprises. Williams, we had a local guide on our team, but he didn't make it. Seems like you're the replacement. What is the status at the dig site? There was supposed to be at least one squad on guard at the beacon itself."
"Yes, ma'am. Bravo squad had that job today. I heard gunfire, but things have been silent for a while now."
"I see. No time to lose then. Get us to that beacon."
Ashley snapped off a salute. "Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am." She watched as the marines spread out between the rocks, covering the flanks. The turian was with them. Her fingers tightened on her weapon. A bird. A Council Spectre, no less. It was wrong; she knew it was wrong to even think about it. But she couldn't help but wonder how tough it would be to have a little friendly fire accident.
Commander Shepard's voice interrupted her musings. "One more thing, Williams. Don't ever salute me in the field again. It makes you the perfect target when you stand up like that. More importantly, it marks me as someone worth killing."
Damn. Rookie mistake. Great way to make a first impression, Ashley. Why don't you start quoting regulations while you're at it?
There was no time for further self-recrimination as the squad moved out.
-o-o-o-
"I wish I could say this was a surprise," Shepard remarked. The dig site was a shambles. Crates had been broken open and equipment tossed aside. Not that she had expected anything else under the circumstances. There also seemed to be several things missing. First of all, the marines that were supposed to be guarding the dig site were nowhere to be seen, nor were there any bodies lying around. This was especially strange because several of their rifles had not been moved, but had simply been left on the ground where they had fallen. Whoever had moved the bodies had picked them up with everything attached, but not bothered collecting individual weapons. The other thing that was missing was the beacon.
"They carried it off," Nihlus said, flexing his talons in the gesture that they were all beginning to recognize as a sign of intense frustration. He'd been making it a lot, recently.
Shepard shrugged. "Well, someone did. No way to tell if it was geth or humans. For all we know, dig site security moved it to the spaceport in anticipation of our arrival. If it was the geth, well, they would take it to the same spot. Nowhere else to go, really. And since that ship of theirs hasn't taken off yet, the beacon is still on the planet.
She turned to their new teammate, who was busy collecting what little ammunition remained in the abandoned weapons. "Williams? There should be some housing around here for the scientist types."
"Yes, ma'am. It's right on top of the hill." She hesitated. "Do you think any of them have been left alive, ma'am?"
Shepard laughed without much humour. "Do I have a flashlight for a head, Chief? Then don't ask me what killer robots do or don't do. There may be survivors and even if they're not, there will be security cameras. I'd like to know what kind of opposition we're dealing with before we start running after the enemy.
-o-o-o-
The housing facilities for the archaeologists were unimpressive. Just a couple of pre-fab buildings that had been dumped on top of a hill.
"Nothing over here, ma'am!" One of the marines called from the first building, which looked like it had been trashed by a hurricane. "No bodies, no working electronics."
"Okay, move on to the next one."
The next building looked better, although there were bullet holes in the wall and the camera on the door had been smashed. The door was locked.
Shepard hit the door with her rifle butt. "Hey, Anyone in there?"
There was no sound.
"Looks like we have to do this the hard way. Alenko, can you break the code lock, or do we have to smash it open?"
Lieutenant Alenko grinned. "Not a problem."
He was right. The lock proved to be only a minor obstacle.
"Stay back!" The voice from inside. "We're armed!"
"What a coincidence," Shepard answered, dryly. "So are we."
"Wait. You're human? Thank the gods!"
"Technically, we're marines. Not everybody agrees that that counts. And then there's-"
"Just shut the door! They'll come back!" That was another voice. Shepard stepped into the room. There were two people, civilians. A woman was walking around in circles, wringing her hands. Nearby a man was sitting on one of the beds, his head buried in his hands. As Shepard had more or less expected, neither of them actually had a weapon.
"Dr Warren, I'm glad to see you're alive." Chief Williams moved into the shed and looked at Shepard. "Dr Warren is the lead scientist for the dig site."
"Well, that's the first good news we've had so far," Shepard said. "Dr Warren, I'm Commander Shepard, USM marines. I was supposed to pick up a prothean beacon, but it seems to have gone missing."
The woman nodded. "It was transferred to the Maglev station this morning, once we knew you'd arrive. Dr Manuel and I stayed behind to help dismantle the camp. Then the attack came. We ran into this building while the marines held them off. They... they gave their lives to save us."
"Noone is saved," Dr Manuel interjected. Humanities time is coming to an end. Soon, only ruin and ashes will remain." His voice was rising as he spoke, but Shepard ignored him.
"What can you tell me about the attack? Do you have any idea what kind of numbers we're dealing with?"
Dr Warren shook her head. "It all happened so fast. One moment we were collecting equipment and packing things up, the next we were running for our lives. Those robots; geth, I think. They just swarmed over the campsite. We the could hear the gunfire outside, the screams. I thought it would never stop. Then there was just silence."
"You think they were here for the beacon?" Shepard asked. It seemed obvious, but it never hurt to check.
"They must have been. We found a lot of artefacts here, Commander, but nothing like that. The technology alone is beyond price add to that the fact that the data core seems to be intact and, well, you really have something worth an invasion.
"We unearthed the toys of the dark." Dr Manuel was talking again. " The turian knew. He knew; he understood."
"Turian," This was becoming confusing, Shepard thought. "Were there any turian scientists on your team, Dr Warren?"
"No. Manuel is just talking. He claimed he saw a turian among the geth, leading them."
Shepard looked over her shoulder at Nihlus Kryik, who had followed and Williams into the building. "Kryik, any thoughts?"
"A turian collaborating with geth?" Nihlus' voice sounded incredulous, even through the translation implants. "That's impossible. Geth don't cooperate with organics. Besides, no turian would-"
"I saw him, " Dr Manuel rambled on. "Death's pale-faced prophet, with an iron jaw and claws of steel! A herald of our destruction."
"Manuel, please. This is not the moment." Dr Warren looked at Shepard with a helpless expression. "I really must apologize for Dr Manuel. He has a brilliant mind. Unfortunately, he has a tendency to become unstable when under stress and there has been a lot of that lately. I gave him his meds about an hour ago, but-"
Dr Manuel stood up from the bunk. "Is it madness to speak the truth, then? Is it madness to recognize the signs? Our doom is coming. I'm not mad; I'm the only sane one left. We're all-"
"Say good night."
Shepard's fist smashed into his jaw and he collapsed without another sound.
Dr Warren looked horrified. "What did you do? You cannot just go around punching people!"
"All evidence to the contrary." Shepard smiled briefly. "Hysterics are dangerous in a crisis, Doctor, and I don't have time to deal with babbling idiots. I suggest you give him more of that medication. By the time he wakes up, he might even start making sense again. I will leave one of my marines with you for protection. Unfortunately, that's all I can do right now. Lock the door again and sit tight once we're gone. USM headquarters are aware of the situation here, so the first reinforcements should arrive within a few hours. Until then your best chance is to lay low."
WIthout paying further attention to either scientist Shepard turned around. "Alright, Estanza, you stay here. Try not to draw anyone's attention until the cavalry shows up and make sure crazy boy doesn't do anything stupid. The rest of you, move out. Let's go find ourselves a beacon. Kryik, if there really is another turian walking around, I suggest you deal with him. We don't need a diplomatic incident on top of-" She looked around, expecting to see the turian Spectre.
"Kryik?"
Shepard looked around, again. No turian to be seen. No, black and red armour, nothing.
"What the fuck?" She tapped her comm. "Shepard to Kryik, come in." There was no answer. "Kryik, I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, but I'm not laughing. Either you talk to me, or I'm coming after you and you really don't want to make me do that."
There was only silence.
"Shit! Alenko, do a scan of the area. I want him found, and I want him found now."
Kaidan already had his computer up. "He's gone, ma'am. Nothing on scanners, nothing on comms, not even a carrier wave. He's gone completely dark."
"What about the drones, can they pick him up?"
Alenko shook his head. "Nothing. I've got one of them flying high, scanning for emissions. But-"
"That's impossible," Shepard snarled. "The guy's like a fucking lighthouse. Power sources flashing everywhere."
"Not anymore, ma'am. Either he's got a way of shielding them, or he's shut them all down. I'll have to go optical and scan for moving targets. And, well, there are quite a few of those."
"Okay." Shepard smiled grimly. "So, looks like he's got some brains after all. Guess Spectres aren't as overrated as I thought. Forget about scanning with the drones. He'd be too far ahead by the time you found him. Don't really need to anyway. There's only one place for him to go."
"The beacon?" Williams asked.
"Has to be. It's the only thing around that's worth this. For him, for us, for everyone. He'll need to go to the Maglev station. Alenko, get one of your drones over the station asap. Williams, what's the shortest path to get there on foot?"
"Right this way, ma'am."
"Good. Let's move people. Switch on your helmet cameras, and make sure to link them to the local military net."
That was not the kind of command to make any marine happy. The helmet cameras had become infamous during the time of the big corporations. Conceived to allow platoon leaders to keep track of the battle, they had turned out to be the wet dream of every micromanaging fool, causing endless delays and stagnation as officers tried to direct the actions of individual marines. On top of that, they encouraged junior officers to lead their units from the safety of the equally infamous M557 armoured personnel carriers, rather than from the front, causing an ever-increasing gap between them and their troops. The United Systems Military had kept the cameras, but issued strict orders that they should never be used them as an active command tool, rather than the observation device they were supposed to be. Unfortunately, that standing order left a lot of room for interpretation and the practice of directing marines by remote control had never fully disappeared.
"Ma'am?" One of the marines was staring at her.
"I want full documentation, with backups. I'm going to hunt down a Spectre and there is not going to be any doubt as to how it went down."
"Wait, ma'am. Do you mean, you will actually-"
"Shoot him on sight? Probably not. But if he as much as twitches in the wrong direction, I'm taking him down permanently. I don't know what birdface thinks he's doing, but I do know one thing: He'd better have a really good explanation, or I swear to God they'll be calling me the Butcher of Eden Prime by the time I'm done with him."
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A/N
In ME1, Shepard never seems to have evidence for anything (s)he says, which makes no sense, considering that everyone carries an omnitool. Hell, a smartphone would have solved all those evidence problems. Since Aliens introduced us to helmet cameras, the solution seemed pretty obvious.
