Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.
Chapter 1: Vacation, X-COM style
=SF=
Part 5: Welcome to the future! We've got a suicide mission for you!
23:41 PM 12 August 2176 AD
Athena District
Olympus City
Elysium
Vetus System
This time Shepard was driving. Big mistake. The girl was a bloody maniac. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the shaking van we were stuffed in, wondering how we got here. Ah, yeah. I didn't want the other maniac on the driver's seat.
I should have known better. After the Mayor's Office was secured for the moment, we received a distress call from the units guarding one of this district's civilian bunkers. The evacuation was still in progress, with a handful of militia and the police trying to get the civies into the bunkers. In an orderly fashion. Heh. Even a fossil like me knew that it was a pipe dream.
It might have worked. If it wasn't for the small problem of slavers dropping in to grab whoever they could, the bastards. If the damn defenses weren't compromised before the first shot was fired.
The most immediate problem was that one of the shelters had it's doors malfunction in the worst possible moment. Yeah. Mister Murphy was well, even after all those years. Or this was his nastier descendant stretching his or her legs. Anyway, the place was supposed to be packed with about a thousand or so civies inside, which meant that those people were ripe for the taking. There were only two SWAT teams and a few cops standing between them and a horde of Batarians, hell bent on enslaving them. The four eyed freaks had brought a tank too, which was happily suppressing the defenders while enemy infantry was getting in position to flank them.
That was the cherry picture that greeted us when we arrived.
"At least two platoons of light infantry. That sorry excuse for a tank and whatever air support they can call on. Not to mention the million other bastards rampaging nearby." The Armorer, who had decided to stuck with us 'so we don't get lost in his fine city', muttered.
"Any ideas, sir?" Shepard asked. For once the insane gleam was missing from her eyes. Instead, she was scanning the battle unfolding down street.
"Ah, my spoiled, clueless greenhorns. That's what we called a proper mission back in my time." I smiled, however knew that my fake joy never touched my eyes.
"So most of us are going to get killed." One of the marines got the correct answer.
"Probably. Welcome to X-COM."
"Aren't you supposed to dispel this gloom and doom? Come with a plan that get's the job done while keeping us alive? Besides, we aren't X-COM, just regular marines!" Shepard snapped at me.
"While this is a poor copy of a proper terror mission, the basics are the same. We might be able to take the opposition apart using proper tactics. If we didn't care what's going to happen with the civilians. However, keeping our people safe cuts our options significantly. We can't just pick up those bastards at our leisure. Unless there are some among you who are wiling to abandon the civies?" My voice grew hard. I know that I sucked where morale uplifting speeches are concerned. It wasn't like there was something in my training that covered the subject either.
The reason was simple, today's X-COM was similar to that of my time in this respect. We were expected to get the job done at any cost. If it meant our lives, no one was going to bat an eye. The war that forged the organization in what it was in this day and age was that bad. In contrast, the rest of the Alliance's military forces were… saner. Which meant that they actually expected that most of them would survive an engagement, the lucky bastards.
I shrugged at my charges. "It's not like I personally enjoy suicide missions or something. However after surviving the first few it becomes the new normal." I smiled sagely.
"What we are waiting for? The SWAT are getting flanked." Shepard glared at me. It was an impressive attempt, however she had nothing on pissed off Berserker.
"For that group," I pointed at the bunch of Batarians closest to us, "to get into positions and turn their backs on us. Then we will attack and slaughter the bastards. I'll expect some spirited covering fire for Shepard and me while we deal with the tank. Any questions?"
"Is it too late to leave this crazy outfit?" One of the marines asked.
"You can try after the slavers are driven off world. So do you best not to get killed. That goes for the rest of you, too."
"As if you care."
"I do. Anything with less than fifty percent casualties is a great achievement so that's what we'll be aiming for."
"What did I ever do to deserve this?" Shepard looked at the heavens for answer.
"While on leave you went in the wrong establishment." I deadpanned. "We are moving in position. Stay low, I'll try to keep us out of sight." I ordered, accessing my gift.
A small smile appeared on my face. Psionics are bullshit!
=SF=
I honestly expected that the invaders would discover our approach. So either the concealment trick I was taught in training was awesome, or they simply sucked. Considering what happened earlier, on the plaza, I was inclined to bet on the later. It was great to face fucking amateurs for once. Those slaving bastards were a far cry from the Ethereal ground forces I had faced in the past.
They were going to pay for that.
While we approached, the SWAT were giving the Batarians hell. The heavy armed and armored police officers had a good position, which was reinforced by portable shield generators. That was the main reason that they weren't already overrun. However, with that tank present, they were running out of time.
"Those fuckers make a great target." Shepard grunted to my right.
"Yep. If we only had some mortar or arty support." I nodded. Most of a platoon was in the open, using abandoned air cars and vans for cover. It would protect them from some kinds of small arms fire, though they were just begging to be hit from above. It was too bad that we didn't have the assets to do that. On the other hand, all their attention was concentrated on the closest SWAT position. I shook my head in exasperation. Even as untrained and inexperienced as I was during the last war, I knew better. Well, the sergeant in charge of making me shape up knew better and he was determined to stuff as much knowledge in my head as possible and then some.
It was a pity that damn Berserk got him. The bloody thing tanked the firepower of my whole squad for fifteen seconds before going down. It was long enough for the damn xeno to gut Hector while it's buddies got into nice flanking positions. It was a good thing that an Apache that was providing air support chose that moment to make itself known by shredding the Mutons ready to shoot us in the back.
I shook my head, chasing out the small flashback and concentrated on the task at hand. We were about thirty meters or so behind the closest Batarian. Nice distance. I made a sign for my soldiers to halt and concentrated. The Gift surged in me, giving the world a purplish tint. I could sense the alien minds strewn before me. They were dim lights with no appropriate defense. With probably one or two exceptions they didn't have the willpower necessary to resist mental intrusions. That came with both extensive training, discipline and experience, which those bastards lacked.
My power touched an enemy grenadier's mind. His practically non-existent mental defenses crumpled like a straw hut in a hurricane. I could feel his shock and terror as his body was no longer his to control. I grinned as his sanity struggled while his hands moved under my direction, pointing a shotgun at the back of his nominal leader. Then his finger pressed the trigger, the weapon kicking against his shoulder. In the next moment he was splashed with steaming pieces of skull and brains. While his buddies were staring at him in shock, my pupped screamed in fear as I directed him to start pulling the pins of the grenades proudly attached to his chest plate.
The way his sanity slipped before the first explosion was delicious.
Before my pupped disappeared in a flash of blood and fire, I had left him acting on autopilot. My attention went to a squad of slavers who had some idea what they were doing. Instead of possessing one of them, I was content of touching their minds with waves of unresistable terror. It took me barely a few seconds to panic them. The terrified invaders either ran away, throwing their weapons, started shooting at anything that moved or simple fell to the ground, curling in a fetal position.
Then my puppet blew up, adding to the chaos.
That was the sign my marines were waiting for. They opened fire, scything through the confused Batarians. Meanwhile I sprinted forward, while keeping low. I sent a mental nudge to Shepard who shot a Batarian with her cannon before following me.
We had a tank to deal with.
=SF=
23:39 PM 12 August 2176AD
Near the Primary Mass Relay
SSV Dauntless
Vetus System
"A pity." Commander Rostov muttered.
His frigate's sensors could easily pick up five signatures near the Relay despite their attempts to be stealthy, by using nearby asteroids for cover. A single cruiser with frigate escort.
Under different circumstances, those wouldn't be insurmountable odds. If he had the time to play to his ship's strengths over the mass effect designs he was facing, it would be foregone conclusion. However, that would take time, time neither he or Elysium had.
"XO, I want you and as much of the non-essential personnel loaded in the shuttles. We'll buy you some time. You go call the cavalry. This is an order."
Lieutenant Commander Hannah Shepard glared at her superior.
"Just don't." Rostov raised a hand. "I'll have you and the rest of the crew escorted to the hangar by marines if I have to. This is not the time for heroics."
"Sir!" Shepard glared at him, obviously resenting the order.
Rostov gave her a flat stare. "I'm well aware of your family's story with the Batarians. You won't get killed today making some useless gesture. If I could I would be getting all the crew out. Now move."
Shepard gave him a stiff salute before heading for the hangar. Just in case, Rostov nodded at one of the marines guarding the exit. The Corporal saluted and headed after the fuming woman. Then he ordered most of his crew to either the hangar or escape pods, before concentrating at the task at hand.
"Weapons, when we go in, I want an Alpha strike on that cruiser. If we can take it out in the opening salvo, our chances will skyrocket."
"I'm on it, sir."
"Navigation, plot me a course behind the cruiser and warp on my mark."
=SF=
The Dauntless warped in, behind a pirate cruiser waiting to ambush her. One moment she was light seconds away from the Relay, then she vanished from real space only to appear behind her quarry. The Alliance frigate wasted no time, dropping six Elerium enhanced disruptor torpedoes and opened fire with her light laser cannons.
The pirate cruiser promptly responded with Guardian fire, nailing two of the incoming projectiles. The remaining four slammed over it's engines, dark matter and Elerium combining in a nightmarish reaction. The first two shattered the barriers of the obsolete ship. The remaining torpedoes homed in on the engine pods and contact detonated, leaving the cruiser dead in space.
The laser pulses and the fire-power of the close in plasma cannons of the Dauntless were merely overkill, shattering open the armored shell of the crippled enemy combatant.
=SF=
"That was easier than expected..." Commander Rostov trailed off. "Strafe Tango three and then head straight at four." He ordered.
His crew was efficient as ever, the Dauntless, darting in the desired direction. The enemy frigates were already on the move, two of them shacking off the shock of their leader's sudden demise more promptly than the rest. Naturally those two were the primary targets.
The Dauntless, flew at an angle towards Tango three, which wasn't agile enough to meet the Alliance vessel head on. That had the nice side effect of keeping Rostov's ship away from the enemy torpedo firing arks. Instead, the pirate frigate opened fire with her GUARDIAN lasers, which bypassed the Dauntless barriers, splashing on the alloy armor. The firepower which was enough to carve up a Council frigate merely left gorges in the heavy armor. In response, the Alliance ship's own lasers speared her adversary like a helpless fish, racking her starboard side and opening most of her decks to space.
The remaining enemy ships were already responding, two of the frigates maneuvering to launch torpedoes. As per Rostov's orders, the Dauntless disregarded them for a moment, aiming her nose at Tango four and releasing another spread of homing munitions. That frigate managed to shoot down three of the birds, responding with a quartet of her own.
It was too little too late. The return fire was shot down, the point defense immolating the last torpedo just a few meters short from the Dauntless barriers. The pirate ships wasn't so lucky. The first hit breached her own defenses. The remaining two torpedoes slamming in her board sides moments later. The twin detonations broke her keel, the ship shattering under the strain of her own engines.
That's when the Dauntless' luck ran out. The remaining enemy combatants got into position launching their own torpedoes and using their GUARDIAN lasers to target her point defenses.
At that moment Rostov could have tried to run. He and his remaining crew would have a reasonable chance to FTL away, before the torpedoes impacted. However, that would have defeated the purpose of the whole exercise.
"Helm, take us straight down their throats. Weapon's free. All hands brace for impact."
"Aye, sir." A subdued Lieutenant answered.
The bridge's crew knew the score and their likely fate. It did no difference. They obeyed their orders and executed them to the best of their ability.
The Dauntless twisted in space, inertial compensators and mass effect core whining with the strain as the frigate turned almost in place despite her inertia. The exercise took years of those system's life, but it didn't matter. The Dauntless had only moments left to live.
Her wounded point defense managed to shoot down half the incoming torpedoes. The rest struck her belly within a second from each other. The mad gravitational distortions snuffed out the barriers and bit deeply in the heavy armor. The alloy held for a moment before splintering under the stress. Dauntless lurched, thrown off course by the impacts. Her still active secondary weapons clawed at her tormentors, moderately damaging one of the pirate ships.
It wasn't enough. The remaining enemy frigates reloaded their torpedo launchers and sent another salvo at the Alliance ship.
This time the remaining point defense guns weren't up to the task. They spat their defiance at the incoming death, blowing up a single torpedo out of space. The remaining seven struck her her all over the starboard side. The barely reformed barriers shattered like a thin sheet of glass under a hammer blow, letting five torpedoes to strike the hull. The armor did its best to stand up to the gravitational distortions before shattering. Decks and sealed bulkheads followed all the way into the heavily armored chamber containing the Elerium reactor.
Dauntless staggered, stopping for the brief moment in which her power source went in a catastrophic reaction. For a second a new star was born, shining brightly with emerald light. It vanished as soon as it appeared, leaving half-molten pieces of battle-steel.
Amidst the death and destruction, the remaining pirate ships never noticed the four shuttles that made their way to the Relay and jumped out of Vetus a few seconds before Dauntless died.