Hey guys, sorry for the longer than average time in between updates, I got a new job on the other side of the country that is quite demanding to say the least, and leaves me with not the ideal amount of time to get to writing. At least for the next two months or so, I would expect updates to appear at the same pace as this one.
Quick comment before we begin, in Mass Effect, the gameplay mechanic is set to allow two squad mates to accompany Shepard on each given mission. This is, of course, a gameplay mechanic. And of course, in any realistic scenario where they might possibly suspect upcoming combat, I would expect that all those capable would be asked to join the mission. There is not quite any reason not to, as I would like to believe they would function somewhat similar to a military unit (to some degree), in which cases, squad members don't just sit out missions. Everyone is used to the best of their abilities. If the situation requires fewer, than guess what I'll do.
To address a small number of comments, I am aware of the similarities between this story and a good majority of others that seem to follow a Mass Effect 2 storyline. Again, this will have some common plot points, but I want to make a unique, credible story that will stand up to canon inspection. Thank you for those who are letting me know of plot holes within the story, I am doing my best to keep the story as clean as possible, but of course, I make mistakes.
Chapter 12
It was satisfying to see the roles reversed. Now, in addition to the human bodies lying in the street motionless, dozens of Collectors had now joined them. As team one weaved their way through the streets of the city, they had quickly come across the results of the Master Chief's handiwork. It was hard not to, with many of the recipients being spread wholly across the street, internal organs and all.
It made Shepard feel a bit better, but not by much. The fact of the matter is, there were still hundreds of dead human beings all around them. It was enough to sober even the giddiest of attitudes. They made good time, only coming across minimal resistance. It was boggling to think that the Chief had managed to take on the brunt of their forces and still move faster than them. It itched at his pride slightly. He wouldn't complain, at least not yet. There was something unusual regarding their surroundings as the team neared the cargo port; the bodies – the human ones – seemed to be spread a good deal more sparsely than before, one every couple meters. He assumed it was because the population density would be smaller near an industrial center rather than a population one.
Shepard noticed many of the Collectors were killed with blunt force trauma, their outer shells broken in numerous places. The rest seemed to have been killed with Mass Accelerator weaponry – it made sense to Shepard that the Chief would want to conserve ammo, and try and uses his munitions to the greatest variety. It certainly seemed to be working.
However, as they travelled another 5 or so minutes, the team heard the tell-tale sound of the barking of the Master Chief's own rifle – having apparently switched again. It was much louder than their own factions arms, and during the previous firefight, Shepards ears had been set ringing by its deafening noise.
As the maze of containers loomed ever closer, the constant feed updates being supplied by Garrus and the rest of overwatch seemed to experience minor interruptions here and there. The team had done well so far to cover their backs, even eliminating whole Collector scout patrols in an effort to throw the alien forces off their trail. It had worked beautifully. Now, without constant communication with overwatch, the operation would get increasingly more difficult.
They passed the threshold of the containers, slowly ramping up their pace in an effort to regroup with the ambushed team. The sounds of the firefight ahead of them had died down, which was either good or bad, by Shepards mark. It could easily have swung either way.
"Commander-" Samara managed to get out before a beam of light smashed into his kinetic barrier. Fortunately, it knocked him off his feet into sustainable cover, a fact which very well may have saved his life. The Asari threw up a biotic barrier immediately, and the more aggressive team members wildly searched for the source of the fire, finding nothing. Just then, from Shepards position with his back to cover and, by proxy, the sniper, he spotted a Collector noggin about 30 meters behind their position, peeking out from the corner of a shipping container. The noggin was subsequently erased from existence.
"Behind us!" He yelled in an attempt to warn the team. Fortunately, they didn't all spin around to engage, just the less disciplined ones. Jacob and Samara held their ground, providing cover fire and suppressing the sniper opposite of them an hopefully any advancing forces directly at their 12 o'clock. There were multiple enemies that just dropped dead on the ground. A smirk lit up the Commander's face. He very rarely was posted to operations with more than one long-range support specialist. Now they had 4, essentially.
"Shepard this is gonna get ugly real quick." Jacob warned, his rifle rattling with fire. The Commander agreed. It seemed that Jack and Grunt were enjoying themselves however; each seeming to best the other in terms of rage-induced mayhem. That could very well work to their advantage… A quick plan formulated in the Commander's brain. He wasted no time spitting it out.
"Jack, Grunt, hold here. Engage the Collectors at the tip of our formation. Samara, give them a biotic barrier to protect them from the back." This would effectively force them to switch their current position, but there were no questions sounded. For two of them, as long as the order led them to something to kill, they would do it. The third would not question his orders – she was honor bound to obey.
"Jacob, come with me, we need to flank the sniper and take out the advancing forces while Jack and Grunt have them distracted. Follow me."
There was simply a nod from the Cerberus soldier, and he silently followed in the Commander's wake, his supporting fire dropping off, and more potshots were being taken at the remained crew as a result of it. Hopefully they could get this done quick.
The two managed to finesse their way around a few containers, and on top of just as many. Doing their best to either avoid the Collectors that were in their way, or take them out silently, they moved forward to attempt a better position. James trusted in the three's ability to hold off this rabble for a few more seconds.
The distinct ping of the sniper forced them to move a little quicker. As capable as they might be, there were limits to what the trio could take, and sniper rounds were probably not on the to-do list. As Shepard and Jacob neared a possible location for firing positions on the attackers, it slowly opened up into a big area. But that's the kicker. You see, this worked both ways. With that increased visibility, the sniper would probably see something similar. There seemed to be a significant amount of enemy forces down in the maze of containers. The two kept their heads low, slowly searching for the enemy sharpshooter. Soon, Jacob pointed at an area at the top of an adjacent crane a few hundred meters away. They watched intently for half a minute, before the distinct flash of sniper fire signaled the enemies position.
The problem- the sniper was lodged in there pretty well. There would – probably, not be an easy way to take a potshot at him. In fact, it would be extraordinarily difficult. At that moment, Jacob turned to the Commander. "Sir, cover me, I'll take the ladder up and get rid of him. Once I'm done, I'll cover the team."
The former N7 nodded his head, it was a good plan – sort of. Risky, dangerous, but they didn't really have any other options. "Go, cover to cover."
At once, the Cerberus soldier set off, boots grinding against the pavement. Shepard popped up and tried to lay covering fire into the advancing Collectors, and succeeded in drawing their attention. While the majority was still focused on the defending trio, a sizable amount turned towards Shepard. He mentally swore. Maybe he had been covering a little too good. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jacob drawing closer to the tower. It would still be a good few seconds until he reached it, but instinct told Shepard to duck, and he ducked. By some miracle, doing so helped him avoid the sniper fire that very nearly removed his head from his shoulders. This was getting bad. If he got pinned down here, it wouldn't work very well for him.
Fortunately for him, it seemed that Jack, Samara and Grunt chose that exact moment to up the ante, and biotic blasts as well as the resonating booms of Grunts shotguns and the roars of the psychotic biotic and the krogan echoed throughout the area. Shepard, peeking from behind a corner, watched as the Collectors actually stopped in their advanced as if they had hit a brick wall. They had to be quick, otherwise the already stretched team would reach their metaphorical breaking point.
Daring another glance, Shepard spotted Jacob about half way up the ladder to the top of the loading crane. Good, he was almost there. His head once again darted back into cover, finding the spot his head was just recently occupying becoming the target of a new bolt of sniper fire. Channeling his own biotic energy, the Commander blindly blasted up over his cover and knocked a few Collectors off their feet, crushing two of them. A few clicks of his omnitools later, and a small drone appeared from his suit. There was a small emission of noise, and Shepard programmed it to fly directly into the most concentrated group of Collectors and detonate. It did so, and the resulting blast created a minor lull in the incoming fire.
However, it was but brief, as more and more of the alien forces recognized the threat he posed and attempted a more complicated strategy to draw him out. Flanking.
"Come on Jacob…." He muttered under his breath, voice tense yet quiet. "Ain't got all day." The group of Collectors was quickly joined by about a dozen more, and they swiftly began to make their way to his position. And then, all of a sudden, one by one, they started to fall. Shepard was just barely able to trace the rounds being fired from the top of the crane, apparently Jacob's new position. Shepard smirked. It was time to get to work. He dived out of cover, rolling as he came up, and his assault rifle purred as it completely eviscerated a trio of aliens. A biotic blast crushed another two, and the biggest singularity that the Commander could muster managed to pick up 7 of them and dangle them a few meters in the air. Perfect.
The combination of crossfire and hive consciousness that wasn't the most strategical at times made short work of the enemy, quickly whittling them down to size. Soon, the only Collectors in sight were dead ones. The sound of weapons fire could still be heard near the other teams position, and so Shepard moved in quickly to close the distance in an effort to flank them. This, combined with the renewed onslaught from the powerful trio, served to crush the last of the resistance.
As Shepard regrouped with the others, it seemed they were no worse for wear, if only slightly fatigued from the prolonged firefight. A distinct and exaggerated hand signal ordered Jacob to descend and join them again as they moved to reach the other teams position, which seemed to still be silent. They needed to move fast.
Shepard broke out into a mild run, intent on preventing any type of harm to befall the others. Zigzagging through the various obstacles present and weaving between the downed bodies – thankfully not recognizing any of them, he drew near to the location he had last heard the retort of the Master Chiefs devastating assault rifle. He certainly saw the results of the skirmish. He followed the bodies to a location that seemed defensible enough, and Shepard guessed what happened. He gave a quiet, "It's Shepard!" And turned the corner, gun down. It almost didn't help, as for a frightening second, a short pistol was jabbed into his chest before he could even fully take stock of the situation. On the other end of the pistol looked like a familiar Cerberus biotic that had been left on the burner for two long.
As she recognized, a smirk made its on to her lips before she lowered his pistol and shook her head. At that moment, Shepard saw the wounded Thane on the ground having minutes prior slipped into unconsciousness. His breath caught in his throat. Immediately, Shepard called for a shuttle. There was no response on the other side. Another swear unconsciously made its way into the crew vocalizations.
Miranda shook her head, slowly, "Already tried that. There's a jammer nearby, has to be."
"And the Master Chief?" noticing the absence of one towering presence.
"He left to take out the jammer." That was all the explanation she offered , and it didn't seem like they were about to discuss her decision. Maybe for the time being.
"Okay, while we're here, we need to work on stabilizing Thane and getting back to finding the Collector's goal here."
There was a quiet cough from Tali's general direction, and about half the faces in the party turned to look at her.
"I think… I think we already know what's going on here."
And what was that?" He answered slightly irritated.
"The Collectors are trying to harvest dead organic manner for their experiments." This was definitely an unpleasant thought, and Shepard didn't much like to think long about it. He frowned. That was a big leap.
"You sure?"
Miranda seemed to nod, agreeing with the Quarian. "It doesn't seem to match with typical Collector behavior – to bring the population onboard alive for extraction. My guess, this is a Collector experiment to see if it can be done with the deceased."
"Fuck this experiment then, it's got shit smeared all over it." It seemed for the first time in recording history, Jack was actually empathetic for someone – those slaughtered in the recent firefight, instead of taking it easy.
"What do we do?" Came Kasumi's soft question, her voice shaky from the eventful moments of the past few minutes.
"We can wait here, join the Chief, or bug out."
"Thane is not in a good position to move." Here was Miranda, ever the biologist/ medic.
"The Master Chief told us to wait here," Tali ventured, this time a good deal more confident. "I trust him, I say we wait here."
The team looked at each other, all seemed to simultaneously take a deep breath, and shrugged. "How long has he been out there?"
"About 5 minutes…" Miranda trailed off, the tone not entirely clarifying to Shepard whether she thought that was too long, or too short.
He gave a short breath out. "Okay – we'll wait another 5 minutes while we work to patch up Thane and map the area out of here for an exit. If our friend isn't back by then, or if comms are still down, we'll pack up and backtrack by foot to within visual range of the overwatch team so they can signal the Normandy for a shuttle. Clear?"
Then, they waited.
OOOO
While, as with every foe he came across, the Master Chief was careful to not underestimate his opponent, he couldn't help but feel underwhelmed. Here was the enemy that had devastated an entire colony of people and exterminated the garrison of troops, and they fell much too easily to his attacks. While there was a resemblance of coordination, it seemed somewhat sloppy and disorganized at the times when combat was more hectic, and the Collectors themselves were not the sturdiest of enemies that the Chief had faced.
As a result, he tore through them. He had found that, while his MA5D rifle was extremely efficient at dispatching his enemies, the sheer amount of them would have him burn through his limited ammunition quite quickly. Because of this, he made a conscious effort to use the newly acquired 'mass accelerator' firearm, and a liberal application of hand-to-hand combat. While the rifle wasn't as deadly as the Chief's UNSC milspec option, it got the job done, and his hands more than did the trick.
He was currently focusing fire near the corner of a crate where he had recently pinned a trio of Collectors armed with standard assault rifles. It didn't seem as if they would budge for the time being, and he was on the clock. While not in any way his man, the Chief was not the type to leave a potential ally dying while his role was central to his salvation. For now, he would fight for the faction that held the most credibility until he was able to return to UNSC space, and for now, that faction seemed to be led by Commander Shepard. And so, they would be his allies, until proven otherwise.
Pressed for time, John advanced on the Collectors, sending a short burst of fire into their cover and at other darting forces, keeping their heads down and allowing him to slowly move up. As he neared the corner, one of the Collectors seemed to notice his presence and jumped momentarily out of cover, probably looking for a quick pot shot. It seemed quite surprised to see how close the spartan had advanced, and as it was bringing its weapon to bear on the giant foe, the Chief stepped inside the swing radius for the rifle and brought his knee up and into the torso of the creature, which fell without a sound. Turning abruptly, he put a burst into the furthest Collector, a few shots to overwhelm the kinetic barrier, an a second to blast it's brains out. In the middle of the second burst, his left hand darted forward and struck the Collector center 'dome', caving it in.
It was time to move- time was short. It seemed the team was quite unaware of the position of the jammer, or even, if there was a jammer. This mission didn't have the best intel. Nevertheless, the Chief knew where he could start. The docked ship near the cargo port would probably be his best chance, as it seemed to be the de facto headquarters for a good amount of foot soldiers on the ground, and said headquarters usually held extensive electronic warfare equipment, at least in his experience. His plan for the time being would involve breaching and entering the docked ship, and hopefully disabling it from the interior, or at least, shutting down operations enough to enable communications to go through.
As the Master Chief looked over a small crate that provided cover around the area, he spotted more and more details about the ship- the first being that it only seemed to have a single docking ramp, with no visible gravity lift such as was common among the Covenant ships. There was a large amount of cargo crates that looked as if they were being loaded, or being prepped to be loaded onto the ship.
A group of Collectors, about a platoons worth, polluted the area of the ship, obviously on high alert after the recent incursion. He was confident in his ability to fight these aliens – they were a good deal less lethal than others he had faced in the past. Still, he would not underestimate them. Their weapons, while not as deadly as the plasma weapons of the Covenant empire, would undoubtedly wither his shields away if they managed to pin him down. So, simple enough, he could not let that happen. This meant constant movement. Normally he would not risk such a thing, but he trusted in his own ability to relocate to cover before he could be tracked and fired upon by the hostile aliens.
He marked each target he could see with a red pin, and momentarily set his motion tracker to its maximum range, that of around 200 meters. There were isolated pockets of movement outside of his visual spectrum, but those wouldn't matter if he was able to move fast enough.
Redirecting Mjolnir's systems to prioritize shield strength, the Master Chief readied himself. The first targets would be what appeared to be sharpshooters, the long barrels of the guns easily identifying them. At this point, it was almost a reflex. He stepped back from his cover and targeted the Collector sharpshooter, sending a quick trio of shots through its head with the rifle he had been lent from the Normandy's armory, then turning and doing the same for the next 3 he had marked. At this point, the confused Collector's began to react, firing blindingly in the area that John was assumed to be in. Two more Collectors were felled quickly afterwards, the combination of strategic superiority and marksmanship was too much for them to pull off.
A few more potshots were attempted before a series of red dots on the Chief's motion tracker gave him the signal he needed. They were advancing on his position, and so, it was time to move up while they were distracted. Normally, a single rifleman would not have the required mobility to simultaneously distract and move towards the intended target, but he was not your ordinary rifleman. One more series of trigger pulls and one less Collector later, he sprinted towards to the ship, using the most cover he possibly could. The one or two drones that had seen him move were unable to track anything but a blur.
Outside of MJOLNIR armor, a Spartan could sustain bursts of up to 55 mph in a full sprint. This was quick. However; due to Mjolnir's advanced reactive polymers and filaments, his suit was able to almost double his maximum velocity. Thus, as the Chief moved at a speed roughly equivalent to a speeding highway vehicle from his cover, needless to say, not a single combatant was able to track him. There was not necessarily a need to dodge, as he just outran the defenders ability to adjust their aim.
He came to a quick halt next to the closest cover, another shipping container bound for the alien vessel. He had no idea what the aliens needed from this planet that would be worth such an invasion, and for the moment, it didn't matter. He had an objective- a mission. Destroy/deactivate an enemy jammer. While that in itself was nothing he had not done before, the fact of the matter was that he had certainly never done so under these circumstances. It surprised him to no end that he was entrusted to perform each of these tasks. This team was a good deal less orthodox than he had suspected, and judging from their attitude in this situation, he was not the first to be trusted in similar circumstances.
A loud ding interrupted his thoughts as a round from a Collector rifle impacted next to him on the crate he was using to take cover. Damn. They had done a better job of tracking his position than most. He spotted the Collector that had opened fire on his position, and milliseconds before he pulled the trigger, the aliens head ducked back into cover.
Because there was no gravity lift on the alien ship, he was forced to use more conventional means in order to make his incursion. Said means took the form of a heavy duty loading ramp that was connected to a nearby crane looking structure.
As he scrambled up the tall equipment, he was privy to an opening in the side of the ship where the cargo was presumable being loaded, as well as a quartet of Collector guards. Sprinting off the end of the crane and landing on the deck of the ship, he whirred and snapped an alien's firearm in half before grabbing it by the thorax and pulling it off the edge. His attention then turned to the remaining trio, who turned, as if through jello, to take aim at his new position – among them. They were too slow. His fist impacted the Collector nearest him on the right side, its cranial organs exiting the other side, before the other hand delivered a shove that propelled the body into its comrade. Before the third Collector could react, the Master Chief's boot blurred forwards and snapped through the aliens leg, immobilizing and incapacitating it. The last Collector, who had momentarily struggled from the shock and then the weight of one of its' headless comrades landing squarely on top of him, had barely the time to relocate his fellow guards body by rolling it off himself when an armored boot came smashing down through its skull.
Over almost as soon as it began, the Chief's attention once more focused on the interior of the strange craft. Having attuned his comm system to the Normandy teams frequency, he had found that the interference increased in direct proportion to his proximity to the alien ship. There was no outlying structure that he believed could be taken as a Jammer. Thus, that left two logical options. Option one, the jammer was onboard the ship. Option two, the jammer was the ship, and it was using some sort of electromagnetic field to disrupt communication. Neither was out of the realm of possibility. Either way, he could get this done. He may not understand all the nuances of this new galaxy as it was, or the even shared the same motivations as the other members of this new cavort of soldiers, but he did know that at hostile alien race was butchering human beings. He was familiar with this. He could fix this problem with one word – bang.
More silent than a puma stalking its prey, the Chief creeped through the bulkhead of the ship, his MA5D rifle marking corners automatically. He had only brought a total of 5 magazines worth of ammunition, leaving about 7 more aboard the ship. He would prefer to use his remaining rounds sparingly, as he only currently had about a magazine and a half left. However, deep in the belly of an alien starship, he preferred a weapon he was familiar with. The inside of the ship was remarkably insectisoid, matching the identity of its owners. It reminded John of a large wasp or hornet nest, with a honeycombed pattern and walls vaguely reminiscing of an insects carapace.
Subtle clangs and scratching noises bounced around the interior of the ship, their echoes provided just enough feedback to throw off his audio receptors from correctly identifying their original location. As the Spartan proceeded through the hallways of the ship, he was surprised at the lack of enemy contacts present inside. Besides the four that had been originally guarding the platform, there were none in sight. He instantly became wary, feeling his adrenaline levels increase in preparation for a possible, and likely, ambush. Then again, it was possible that the majority of the crew had disembarked upon planetary landfall. Either way, he would be cautious. He was actually grateful that the Normandy team had allowed him to operate mostly on his own for this operation. After the events of Delta and Alpha Halo, the battle for Earth, High Charity, and the Ark, and the events on Requiem and The Mantle's Approach, John had worked on his own almost entirely, with only temporary allied assistance by local marine forces.
Of course, he was never meant to be a solo operative. The Spartan's were trained to be wolves – their greatest strength was working in a pack. Now, he had no pack to work with. Despite how incredibly effective and successful he had been without outside assistance the past few years, even John realized that many of those events were due to luck. He would not test this. Without Cortana to assist him, he felt as if his luck would run dry much sooner than before.
The gently curving hallways of the Collector ship slightly reminded him of High Charity after it's fall to the flood, with architectural similarities throughout. Not only that, but the feeling of death resonated every inch of this place.
As John turned a corner, he saw three of these 'Collectors' around 15 meters ahead of him with their backs to him waiting – most likely for a bulkhead to be opened for entry. That was his chance to gain further access into the ship, as other bulkheads he had come across were mostly sealed off. Maneuvering immediately after the three aliens, he darted into the space behind them, still quieter than a ghost. This was too close, however, and too risky. They would need to be eliminated. He pulled his combat knife from his holster, and thrust it into the neck of one of the aliens, who went limp under his blade. Instead of withdrawing his blade, he just slashed outward to the side, severing the airway's of the alien and bringing the blade into contact with another of the drones, the tip finding itself buried in its brain. Not wanting to alert the rest of the crew because of the loud noises, as he was in the act of lodging his knife into the head of the second Collector, he struck out with his boot at the third, shattering it's left leg, and bringing it into a fall towards him, rather than into the bulkhead or farther into the room. In one swift motion, his unoccupied hand grabbed the falling Collectors head, and brought it into contact with the knee he was now raising from his outstretched leg. The result was messy, but effective. He let down all three bodies slowly, careful to avoid any noise as he made his way through the ship, hoping to find the bridge.
From an outside angle, he prioritized two objectives. The first being the engine room, as in his experience the destruction of a starships engine usually signaled the end to all operations. The second objective was the bridge, where he would hopefully be able to eliminate all key personnel and therefore also stall the operations of the ship. Either option was valid. However, as unfamiliar as he probably would be with the propulsion systems of the ship, he elected the bridge as his current objective. He wasn't confident in his ability to detonated the engines without immediately blowing himself into smithereens as well. Aliens though, he could shoot aliens. Doing so would also cause a momentary pause in ground based operations and buy the remainder of his team more time.
The sight that greeted him currently was not one he wished to see. It was certainly not one of his objectives. A massive pile of human corpses lined the room, what looked like a large hangar. While the ship was not necessarily massive, The Master Chief supposed it was easily twice, if not three times the size of the Normandy, from what he had been able to map out during his brief trips around various parts of the ship. The hanger was therefore not huge, but there were possibly thousands of bodies within it. It angered him, the loss of life. So wasteful, so merciless and cruel. He had fought for 30 years to prevent this, yet it was still a reality, although maybe not in his reality.
He didn't want to push himself too hard. Although the Chief was doing a very thorough job of not showing it, his body was still recovering from the heavy toll it had taken in his previous battles. His chest was still recovering from burns sustained on the replacement Halo rings, given by 343 Guilty Spark, the Forerunner A.I. He had received many internal contusions and bleeding from his fall from orbit to the surface of earth, and his muscles had been strained and ligaments sprained from the harrowing battles from earth to requiem to earth again. Of course, he was a Spartan, and his body would recover quicker than most, but Cryo had done him little good as it was a stasis state that didn't allow full body recovery. The week of rest he had been awarded onboard the Normandy had certainly worked wonders, but he was still not quite 100%.
A quite garble drew his attention to a corner of this room, where a Collector seemed to be inspecting some of the dead bodies. It never noticed as the Spartan snuck up behind him and ripped its throat out with his massive knife, what would double as a machete for smaller peoples looked like an ordinary blade in his hands.
As the body hit the ground, his attention went from examining the exits, entryways and possible threats that the room may have provided to the actual contents of it. The bodies reminded him vaguely of scenes of his own nightmares, and in some form, his own life. The faces of those he knew he had failed to save seemed reflected on some of those present here.
He shrugged the feeling off. He had not the luxury to lose his focus here. Rounding the threshold of yet another cavernous corridor, he kept his eyes open for a hopefully high traffic area that would signify the bridge- or command module, of the ship. He was entirely unfamiliar of where to find this, but his innate and internal sense of navigation steered him towards what he thought was the forward section of the ship. Although the design was not remotely one he had experienced, instinct whispered to him that it might mirror certain thematic designs present on Covenant vessels, and so he hypothesized he'd find the bridge somewhere deep within the forward bowels of the ship.
Once he reached the bridge of the ship, his plan would be simple. Shoot everything that moved. While not confident in his ability to correctly reverse whatever signal was blocking communications, he was quite confident in his ability to break things. Seeing as how most ships communication was managed from the bridge, hopefully he would be able to use his armors advanced communication suite to pinpoint the source of blockage.
He readied his weapons.
OOOOOO
"Shepard, that's 5." Came the soft whisper for Miranda, a surprising mix of patience and urgency.
He sighed. It had been worth a shot. In hindsight, it was possibly stupid to send a lone soldier forward to fight through a horde of hostile aliens, no matter how seemingly capable said soldier seemed to be. He would prefer not to leave the Chief behind, but in the meantime, he had Thane to take care of, someone he was quite a great deal more emotionally attached to, and that wasn't to include the other members of the squad that he was in charge of.
Commander Shepard was a soldier too, after all. Sometimes, you just had to make a hard call. It was either the life of the impassive, faceless enigma, or them. He made his decision.
"Alright, pack it up. I want Grunt and Jack to clear us a path. Samara, Tali, follow right behind. Kasumi, you go and scout ahead, report in every 5 minutes, and Jacob, cover our 6. I have Thane. Miranda, help cover him if we need it. We rendezvous with team 3 and get Thane evac'd out of here."
A series of nods confirmed his order.
The team began to move as Shepard bent over and secured Thane as gently as possible. The medigel that had been applied earlier by Miranda, as well as whatever salve the Master Chief had used seemed to be holding him together for now, but he had lost a lot of blood, and his pulse was weak. This, combined with his already hampered ability to process oxygen in his respiratory system would very soon cause problems.
With the Drell assassin securely over his shoulder and half in his arms, Shepard gave the signal to move out, grunting slightly under the weight of his teammate. He was glad Thane was not a more heavily armed combatant, or he might very well have had to ask Grunt to carry him out of there. As it was, they had at least a kilometer and a half to travel before they could rv with team 3, less if they just needed to make it into visual range. He certainly would not be able to carry Thane the full way, but he would do his part now. He frowned as he thought of the way this mission was going- they seemed to be going backwards at this point, what with them basically retreating and whatnot.
It was slow going. Shepard had managed to convince Grunt and Jack to avoid confrontation when possible – better to have an angry krogan and biotic than a couple hundred pissed off Collectors.
As a result of the more stealth oriented aspect that was now employed, their progress was indeed slowed. The patchwork on Thane's body would still hold, but without the proper medical equipment, things would probably take a turn for the worse.
As the group continued on, Shepard was starting to feel the combined effects of his previous interrogation days prior, biotic exhaustion from excessive use, and the fact he was lugging a teammate several hundred yards at what seemed to be a snails pace. They approached a building that looked to be a convenience store, its windows smashed and a body or two scattered throughout.
It just didn't make sense. As far as Shepard knew, the Collectors required the organisms they harvested to be alive in order to 'collect' them. Then again, he didn't know much about the process. Of course, there was no alteration to genetic material upon demise. The aliens must be after purely biomass. That wasn't a pleasant thought. While he couldn't exactly confirm anything, this would most certainly change future combat situations with the Collectors.
Kasumi flashed into being slightly ahead of him, almost startling him, if not for the fact that he had kept his eyes on the mission clock and was expecting her reappearance.
"Commander, I see a couple dozen up there, it looks like they are looking for someone. Probably us." She quietly stated, the slight tremble in her voice notifying the commander that there were relatively few among the crew who had actual experience on a fully-fledged battlefield.
He nodded in response, his head buzzing with possible ideas. It would be difficult to sneak past them, the majority of the combined teams were not well suited for stealth operations. Asking those who were to take Thane to team 3 was also out of the picture. Kasumi would not be able to function normally while carrying the injured Drell, if she even could carry him the required distance. Miranda would be seen quite too easily without the advantage of cloaking on her side, and while certainly stronger than the smaller thief, Shepard wondered how she would fare lugging an 70 kilo alien across a battlefield without being detected. The same applied to him.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when a familiar spear of red lightning flashed into Grunt, who barely flinched at the impact. The lance of light was followed by a rapid fire stream that attempted to pin down the team, slamming into their kinetic barriers and forcing them into cover.
"Ambush!", yelled Miranda as she dived into cover, along with most of the team. Most, as in, not Grunt or Jack. The two had stood their ground, the former's natural resilience and kinetic barriers holding well to the force exerted by the opposition. However, Shepard watched as rounds continually pounded into each of them. They needed to move. If they got pinned here, things would get exponentially more difficult. Plus, he begrudged having his most aggressive fighters fighting a defensive battle.
"Jack, Grunt! Get to the building at two o'clock and clear it!" He shouted over the din of the battlefield. Said building was currently obstructing their path through the city, while its capture would allow a perfect vantage point to pick off some of the ambushers and allow them to continue their path. A little quieter, he turned to Samara and Tali, "follow them in, make sure no one comes in behind them."
The Justicar nodded and used her biotic abilities to dash rapidly towards the duo who were scraping their way towards the building.
"Rest of us, hold here and provide covering fire."
They did so, the purpose of their firing not so much to eliminate the enemy forces as it was to force their heads down into cover so they could prevent taking potshots at their wide open teammates.
The sounds of insect chattering sounded from the building, and a wet smack accompanied blue bursts of light that flickered through the empty thresholds that were once windows.
"On my mark, we leapfrog forward."
He waited while Grunt naturally turned his focus from the dead in the building to the alive on the outside of the building, and charged after jumping out of the window onto the ground. His blood rage would not be easily satiated, however for the time being, Shepard was more than happy with that.
Jack was tossing biotic blasts and singularities from a second story window that knocked Collectors off their feet and provided easy targets. The incoming fire lessened slightly in regard to the fighting, while a dull hum seemed to draw his attention. A familiar hum, but he couldn't quite… place it.
One of the bodies of the Collectors seemed to begin to glow, a form of almost… levitation taking hold of it.
"Assuming direct control." The scittery voice sent shivers down his spine.
"Prioritize fire on Harbinger!" He shouted to the others. Shepard watched as the number of biotic attacks and mass accelerator rounds flying through the air gradually shifted focus on the possessed Collector. For a few moments, it seemed to have a strangely minimal effect. Just as Shepard was about to unleash his own biotic lance to spear the alien, a flash shot through the air passing a few yards away from him.
The first floor of the building behind him exploded, the shockwave throwing the entire team, minus the duo still occupying the building towards their right, on the ground violently, even Grunt was significantly staggered. Shepard's teeth rattled in his head, and he felt a sharp pain in his ears momentarily as his vision blurred. He noticed something seemed to be pressing down on his leg, as he was struggling to move the appendage properly, some kind of pressure seemed to be trapping him. All was silent for a moment, and the Commander thought that the explosion had done similar things to the Collector forces. Then, all the sudden, a high pitch noise reverberated through the air, and the signs of incoming fire actually increased, flashes crossing his vision more frequently.
'Thane!' He remembered with a start. He looked up frantically for the Drell he had placed behind cover, and saw him lying on the floor 3 meters from where he had been placed. For some strange reason, still unable to move his leg much due to the unseen pressure, he ordered Miranda to recover Thane. Strangely, he heard nothing but that high pitched scream as he spoke. He blinked, long, slow, and heavy as he watched a familiar white suit limp over to the Drell and drag him back into suitable cover. Another blink, and all of the sudden, that same white suit was kneeling in front of him. Miranda was bleeding from multiple cuts along her torso and legs, a gash in her cheek soaking the left half of her face in crimson.
Her mouth was moving, but no noise seemed to come out. She grabbed his shoulder, and shook it, her eyes wide open.
Grabbing him firmly by the armor, she proceeded to drag the Commander towards more suitable defilade. He was confused for the moment, as he had previously thought he had pinned under some object that was restricting his legs movements. His eyes travelled down his body, and he saw a foot long metal shard imbedded halfway up his leg, penetrating all the way through to the other side. His armor had protected him from suffering more cuts and lacerations, but obviously Miranda had not had the same luxury.
"—-ander!" The voice was far away at first, as if through a long tube, its echo barely distinguishable from the ringing in his ears.
"-ou he- me Co—ander?!" He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and the dreadful noise in his ears.
All of the sudden, the noises of the battlefield hit him like a sucker punch. "Commander, can you hear me??" Miranda almost pleaded, her voice audible above the din of the collapsing building behind them, and the sounds of weaponry blurring around them.
"Yeah, I hear you. The hell happened?"
"Some sort of propelled explosive. Thane is safe, Jacob is down."
The words brought everything into focus. "What? Where is he?"
"He's unconscious, behind the air car on the left. Tali is fine, she moved into the building that was secured for better cover."
Shepard looked to the car she mentioned, and sure enough, an unconscious Cerberus soldier lay propped against it, even from here Shepard could see the gash on his forehead where he had been struck by something.
"Commander we can't stay here. We need-" Miranda started before she was cut off by Shepard. He snapped into being, his training taking a firm foothold on his brains operations. He had been in worse. This was bad, but they had something that the Collectors didn't. Biotics.
"Grab Jacob and move into that building. I'll have Samara grab Thane. I'll provide cover fire. Once they are secure, we'll trade. Okay?"
She nodded. Commander Shepard was impressed. Ms. Lawson was certainly no soldier, but it seemed that she was doing a very good job of keeping her cool in a situation that had suddenly severely gone against their plans.
He would need all of his energy and focus for these next few moments. The explosion's wave of overpressure and shrapnel had neutralized a number of the teams kinetic barriers, which were slowly recharging. The former N7 propped himself up to a sitting position against his cover, trying his hardest not to aggravate his injury. As Miranda maneuvered to Jacob's position, he popped out a tube of medigel and quickly applied it to the injury. He couldn't remove the shrapnel from his leg, as that would further deepen the severity of the wound. The consequences of the situation did not escape him. Thane, Jacob, and himself were for the time being immobilized, with Grunt similarly so as his blood rage would keep him rooted at this position for the time being. Basically, evac would have to come to them. But first, they would need to let them know that it was needed.
Shepard reached down to his waist and withdrew one of the emergency procedures he always made sure to keep on his person in a combat situation – an emergency flare. Pointing it straight up at the sky, the yellow flare, clearly distinguishable from the red and blue of mass Accelerator weaponry drifted lazily into the sky for a hundred meters before coming to a slowed descent back down.
The second after the flare was fired, Shepard turned to the task at hand and leveled his rifle at the advancing aliens. He peppered their position with his own rifle, sending whatever he could biotically to slow their assault and force them into cover. One in particular seemed to have a peculiar resistance to his attacks, and Shepard cursed as he suddenly remembered the presence of Harbinger before the deadly detonation.
It seemed to accomplish what he hoped, as the aliens scattered and popped into their nearest cover. He focused not on precision, more on the pure volume of fire in an attempt to distract them from the reposition of his injured team members.
He watched as first Miranda, and then Samara ventured the no man's land as quickly as they could, assisted with biotic dashes, and ferried first Jacob, and then Thane into the building that Grunt and Jack had so recently taken.
The Krogan and the biotic were currently doing their best to wreak havoc among the genocidal race, the former having closed the distance and was currently using his strong limbs and even more powerful weaponry shred the aliens, while Jack was using her powerful and extensive biotic arsenal to devastate those who were foolish enough to pop out of cover. Nevertheless, they were being swarmed. Shepard hoped that team 3, as well as the Normandy crew had seen the flare and would respond in a timely fashion.
"Commander!!" Miranda seemed to yell over the battlefield. He signaled his acknowledgement and lowered his rifle, closed his eyes, and concentrated. This would be the furthest he had yet to attempt such a maneuver. Taking a deep breath, the familiar hum of biotic energy deep within him built slowly to a crescendo, before he exhaled and, for a lack of a better term, teleported into the nearby building. As soon as he had transported himself, he leaned hard against a nearby wall, still in his seated position. That had stretched him.
He saw Tali as she peeked around a doorway and tossed a drone into a grouping of Collectors, the drone sending a burst of electricity into their bodies, rendering them combat ineffective. As she turned back, she caught his glance and returned a very obviously concerned one of her own as she spotted his injured leg.
"Shepard-"
"It's fine, keep up the fire, Garrus will be here soon." He cut off her concern before she could continue. He would be fine, he'd been through worse. He had died, in fact. Of course, he couldn't make a habit of being continuously injured on missions such as this. These last two escapades had taken their toll. The team had been relatively unscathed up to this point, ever since their discovery of the Master Chief everything had seemed to hit the fan. Shepard's teeth clenched as he realized how much more preferable it would have been to have the large man's presence at the current time.
"Grunt!! I need you to pull back inside the building!!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs towards the window. If the Krogan overextended himself, than the Collectors would surround him and the waves of fire they would lay down would eventually cut down even the young super-soldier. Whether he liked it or not, the team was currently on the defensive until extraction arrived.
The next few minutes were a blur as the team reorganized and Shepard calmly directed each of them to different position on the building in an attempt to stem the tide. Eventually they were able to cut down the possessed Collector that had been causing them extreme issues for the past few minutes. They had found the source of the rocket propelled explosive that had devastated their position earlier, what seemed to be a handheld launcher that rivaled many forms of anti-vehicle weaponry that Shepard had come across during his time in the Alliance. It's carrier was currently lying in pieces on the ground, having been quite literally ripped apart by a furious krogan berserker.
Commander Shepard had long ago switched into 'battle-mode', as adrenaline pumped through his system and his brain focused intently on their current situation and keeping his team alive. He banished his exhaustion from his system, he would write all those checks later.
The incoming forces never seemed to lessen in number, more and more continually poured towards their position. He knew they couldn't keep up this defensive action for long. James was not much a religious man, yet he found himself praying that Garrus and his team would reach their position in time.
After what seemed like an eternity, a precision bolt slammed into a Collector that had gotten really bold and popped out of cover. Seemingly at once, almost half a dozen of the aliens seemed to experience a similar event, a series of shots from powerful rifles peppered their barriers, overloaded them, and shattered their heads.
Garrus had arrived.
An experienced eye examined the situation before him, as he ordered Zaeed and Vega into the building to assist the team. Meanwhile he sighted in the nearest aliens and showed the nearest group why he had so recently been known by the term archangel.
Commander Shepard watched as his longtime friend recognized the few rounds that were making it to his kinetic barriers and slowly backed up into cover, taking a position opposite of Tali in the doorway.
"Commander, good to see you. I was worried once we lost comms. What's the situation?"
Said commander, relieved at the backup and relief of pressure that the small fire team had provided, appraised him of the current circumstances. Including; three wounded, two quite severely, and the team currently pinned down in this building.
"Roger, we saw the flare and came running, we notified the Normandy and they should be sending a shuttle soon. We'll need a good LZ, this shithole won't do."
The commander agreed, landing the shuttle here was a no go. He was about to speak when an earth shattering boom echoed throughout the city, seeming to originating from the shipping district that the team had recently retreated from. He quickly paled, as his first realization was that the Collectors had suddenly got their hands on some high – grade explosives that were more intense than what had leveled the building. His thoughts were interrupted by the Turian ex CSEC officer.
"Where's the green one? That him?"
Shit. Guiltily, Shepard recalled he had completely forgotten about that particular member of the crew. He was once more about to speak and command the team, when his somehow still functional headset seemed to rise from the dead as a familiar voice, normally cheerful, but now tainted with worry filled his head, relief joining it.
"Commander, can you hear me??" Joker was almost frantic.
"Joker, this is Shepard, I read you – what's the ETA to that shuttle?"
"Shepard! Oh thank— its about about 3 minutes out, hang tight!"
"Roger Joker, its good to hear you." And it was. Almost nothing was more stress inducing than being cut off from communication from backup and extraction. Looks like the big son of bitch had done it.
Now they had a goal. He was confident in his teams ability to hold for the next three minutes. But what then? Would they call this mission a failure? They had certainly not accomplished their goal… The Collectors were still here en masse. If nothing else, it had become obvious that one mismatched team would have difficulty liberating the large city from alien hands, no matter their expertise.
A gravelly voice was the next to reach his ear. One that brought relief even more so than that of the Normandy's pilot. The calmness of this next voice seemed to root his very soul to the floor under him.
"Commander, the jammer has been neutralized. Proceeding to your position to provide backup."
"Affirmative, Chief. Damn good job. We could use you a helluva lot right now."
"Wilco Commander. ETA is 2 mikes."
The next 2 minutes came by much quicker than the prior ones. He was in the process of exchanging his thermal clip with another when the voice he so dreaded filled the air.
"Assuming direct-" The voice was suddenly cut off as a sliver of ruby red light slammed into the alien, gauging a hole the size of a dinner plate in the torso of the alien. 'The hell…?'
Jack was slightly more vocal. "The fuck was that?"
As if a literal answer to their question and even prayers, a familiar green suit of armor seemed to materialize from a nearby building, and Shepard recognized the big blocky weapon that the huge soldier had initially brought along at the beginning of the weapon. One that apparently had not seen use until now. It seemed the Chief had had his own experience with the resilience of the possessed aliens.
The incoming fire shifted away from the building as half of the Collectors once again focused on the soldier that seemed to move so fast through cover it almost appeared as if he teleported.
Shepard smirked, and Garrus seemed to give a soft laugh that was as infectious as the relief that the green plated soldier seemed to bring along with him.
"Chief, neutralize all hostiles with extreme prejudice." My oh my, was this new bastard worth his salt.
"Affirmative." Was the only response, the tone having not changed from that mind numbing calm that settled the nerves of every member of the crew. Shepard could feel the crew fight with renewed vigor beside him, the rate of fire had increased, as well as its precision, and the rate of outgoing biotic support had also increased. It seemed that the very presence of the Chief energized those he fought beside. Shepard could only imagine the hope he brought to the soldiers of his own… galaxy.
"That bastard really did it…" Miranda shook her head softly, a smile even visiting her features. Despite her pride, even she was relieved by what it meant that the Chief was now here. Realization bloomed into being within their minds. That enormous explosion just seconds prior… that must've been the smaller Collector ship that Miranda had reported earlier. But how-
"We're gonna be alright…" Kasumi let out, a breath of panic that had transformed into hope. She had long since rematerialized in the building, hoping for the cover available to protect her as she pumped out whatever fire she could.
"Yeah… Yeah we are." Was all he could say.
His thoughts turned to the situation at large. Now, with his teams survival less in doubt with every ongoing second, he was able to ponder the next few actions. They needed help if they were to liberate the colony, protect it from the Collectors. And now, there was no way the Systems Alliance could deny the existence of the Collectors. He would place the call as soon as his wounded were feet first on the Normandy. He would have to ask those who were combat capable to stay here and secure a better landing zone somewhere else in the city.
It was time to send in the Marines.
