Torin: A male turian of the age of majority. (15)
A fly in amber, held prisoner between horror and rage, Shepard stared. Three, then four, heartbeats surged through her veins, slow and sluggish, before she shook off the shock and charged. Blind fury thrust aside her annoyance with Nihlus, a slick, bile-sour sludge of certainty crawling up the back of her throat. She'd just witnessed the worst sort of betrayal.
Betrayal is betrayal, Janey. If Nihlus trusted that bastard—his friend—that just makes him a fool.
Her eyes riveted to the fallen Spectre, Shepard pushed harder. He'd better damned well be alive just so she could kick his ass. If he'd just stayed with the squad … . She shoved that thought aside and let the nitrous of adrenaline surge through her muscles. Heart pounding hard and steady, she sprinted onto the dock, leaping all four stairs in one stride. As she ran past a pile of crates, she saw the other turian disappear around yet another stack of shipping containers at the far end.
"You think you can destroy a human colony ... take down one of my team and just run away?" Shepard shouted, bringing her assault rifle to bear on the turian's back. "Oh no you don't! No one shoots my people ... not even the annoying-as-shit one!" She pelted across the dock, gaining on him a little as he dodged crates.
Then the other turian reached a down ramp and hit full speed, a hail of bullets chasing him across the platform. He slid around the corner onto the cargo train, going down on one hip before his talons caught hold, and he scrambled up. Bullets chased him the length of the train, but then a large shadow blocked out the sun, slapping Shepard out of her rage-fugue. Looking up and shading her eyes against the brilliant sky, she watched as a ship shaped like a giant bug flew overhead. Geth dropped from it, sending her into a full retreat.
"Shit. Too many." Shepard held her arm out, backing Williams up as well until the wall of crates covered their backs. Spinning around, Shepard turned her attention to the fallen Spectre. They needed him up, gun in hand, to get through the next part alive. When she saw Nihlus sprawled on his back, unmoving, bile began to burn the back of her throat once more.
As she ran, she gestured for the others to follow the fugitive. "Damn it! Williams, Alenko, Jenkins … see where that bastard went. Watch each others' backs." She knelt next to Nihlus, concern replacing her fury. "Hey, Kryik, come on, get your ass up." Squinting a little, she looked him over for blood, but only a thin stream trickled from a graze on his crest. Relief settled back into antagonism. If Nihlus hadn't insisted on running ahead, they'd have nailed that other bastard. Tapping the turian's cheek with the back of her hand, she tried to rouse him. "Come on, damn it, that other guy is getting away."
"The other one took off on the cargo train, Shepard!" Williams called appearing at the end of the wall of crates. "There's a hell of a lot of geth covering his trail."
Shepard looked up without raising her head and snapped a quick nod. Damn, if the day just didn't keep getting better and better. "Understood, Chief." Shepard dropped her stare back to the Spectre's face. Winding up a little, she slapped him, her hand cracking hard and sharp against the tough plates of his face. "Get up, damn it, or I'm leaving your lazy ass behind."
The Spectre stirred, a long groan spooling from his throat as he raised a hand to press against the wound on his head. "Saren … ."
"Is getting away while you lie there." Shepard leaned a hand on his chest, holding him down as she slapped his medigel. Better safe than sorry. She stared into his eyes, searching for signs of concussion. But both pupils seemed even and reacted to the light. She let out a long breath. "Are you seriously injured?"
He shook his head and pushed against her a little. "No, let me up." His eyes flashed with fury, easing her concern. Good. Anger she could work with.
"Then up and at 'em, Spectre." She stood and offered him her hand, pulling him to his feet when he took it. She made sure he could stand on his own, then trotted after her team. "Let's move, Kryik. I've already spent too long wringing my hands over your fragile bod." Grinning at the muttered curse he sent after her, she nodded. Definitely okay.
Shepard skirted her people, moving down a long ramp. Risking, and taking, a great many hits to her shields, she traded cover for a better sight line and bolted across the train's loading ramp to duck behind cover on the cargo train. The geth had dug into positions further up, the train's sectional dividers providing good cover. In addition, portable barriers glowed here and there. "The invitation didn't say anything about BYOB." She changed guns yet again. "One day, I'll remember to strap these beauties together."
Lifting the sniper rifle, she couched it against her shoulder. A long, slow breath blew between softly pursed lips as she centred her cross-hairs on the flashlight head of a massive green unit barrelling down the train at her. "Come now, Ingrid, me luv," she whispered. "Let's show 'em how we do it sniper style."
"Seriously?" Williams said, a sharp bark of laughter slicing the air. "Ingrid?"
Shepard flattened the green unit, its head erupting in a spray of white fluid. She moved on to a white unit pinning them down with a barrage of rockets. It's head exploded a half second later, giving her a moment to breathe. "What's wrong with Ingrid?" she asked, lining up her next target. "My nan's name was Ingrid." In her peripherals, she saw Nihlus ducking into cover on her flank. Once he took position, she rolled out from behind her barrier and sprinted forward four metres.
"I'm still too stuck on 'do it sniper style' to be worried about the thing's name," the turian grumbled, moving up to take cover at her side. He didn't glance her way, but she saw his mandibles flutter. He peppered two trooper units with shotgun rounds as they closed.
"You're all just jealous ... " Shepard chuckled then waited for a break in a second rocket trooper's fire to send a round through its head. "… but I've gotten used to that." She took out another couple geth and moved forward, keeping herself low. "Alenko, Jenkins, Williams, keep moving up, people. Camp on your own time."
They fought their way up the train, covering one another as they moved. Shepard grumbled the entire way, muttering every time another geth appeared. The other turian's lead grew every second they spent dancing with his geth peons. Finally, the last flashlight exploded in a shower of white crap, and she ran to the train controls. The muscles in her thighs and lower back trembled with fatigue, but she just kicked her feet and shook them out as she brought up the interface.
Her fingers and gaze slipped over the haptic controls, familiarizing her with them. "All right. If I were the 'go' button on a cargo train, I would be … ."
Nihlus pushed in, his towering bulk shoving her off to one side. "I'm beginning to have major doubts about your general competence and sanity, Shepard," he muttered. The next second, he grunted, the air whooshing from him as she smacked her rifle butt into his stomach.
Remorse smacked satisfaction on the head at his reaction. "Oh, don't be such a baby. I barely touched you. Sensitive there, huh? Good to know since you seem prone to shoving people around." She pressed the control, activating the train. "I could have done that without giving your buddy an extra thirty-second head start if you'd just left me alone." She glanced over her shoulder, meeting his glower and raising him a scowl. " Did they teach you to be a bully in Spectre training?"
"Yes. Did they teach you to be an obnoxious, abrasive ass in N7 training?" he grumbled, rubbing the armour over his stomach.
Shepard stifled a genuine grin, keeping anything real crammed behind her professional, smart ass soldier mask. "Nope. That's an inborn gift right there. Now, go relax until we catch up with your friend." She patted his cheek, a starched smile ironed onto her face. She'd started pressing his buttons to learn what sort of person he was. She'd heard all about his heroic, bad-ass Spectre side on the news over the years, but what he'd accomplished as a Spectre didn't interest her nearly as much as much as the torin, himself. She wouldn't be trusting his medals or citations to have her back when they went into battle. She knew from long years of experience that people like Nihlus didn't give anything away for free; keeping everything locked tight behind heavy barriers. And she knew that she'd have to work to knock clues free.
But that was before the other turian shot him.
Her priorities needed to change. She needed to keep him functional, to beat that dull fog of shock and betrayal out of his eyes. The only way she knew to do that was to piss him off, turn him against her, keep him externalizing the anger and hurt. Others could, no doubt, perform the same task with greater finesse and compassion, but Nihlus was stuck with her. So ... .
He grabbed her wrist and leaned in close, his nose touching the end of hers. "We're going to have some things to settle when we get back to the ship, Shepard." Despite his words, she didn't feel anger coming off him, at least not any aimed at her. She made a convenient target, but what had happened on the platform had shaken him far deeper than he let on. "Stop with the mockery, or I'll put you on your ass."
One corner of her mouth twitched. Good, some fire remained under the brittle glassiness. She didn't know who the other turian was, but she prided herself on knowing betrayal when she saw it. Okay, mission priority shift: keep the Spectre from committing suicide by bad guy ... preferably without angering him to the point of murdering her.
She grinned and reached up to tap the end of his nose with her fingertip. "Oh yeah, I like you. You've got promise. We're going to get along just fine." She winked, backing him off, then shot a glare at the Marines that told them to stow their chuckling.
"So, who's your buddy?" she asked, turning to see how close they were to their destination. They still had a way to go yet. She kept her back to him, removing the pressure of her stare and leaving a vacuum for him to fill. "Another Spectre?"
Nihlus sighed, a low reverberation following it. "Yes. His name's Saren. He was my mentor when I was a recruit." He chuffed as if dismissing the entire thing.
Shepard scowled. Ouch. She policed her voice, keeping her tone even. "Any idea what he's doing here?" Damn, his mentor. It'd be like Anderson trying to kill her. She shuddered, not knowing if she'd still be standing.
She heard Nihlus move to the gate off to the one side, ready to disembark. "None, but I think the conclusion to be drawn here is pretty clear. He wouldn't have tried to shoot me in the head if he was here to stop the geth." His tone clearly declared the conversation concluded. Instead, Shepard turned to face him on a oblique sort of angle.
Shepard shrugged, an empathetic ache coiling in her chest at the rounded set of his shoulders, the way his mandibles hung a little. "We'll see. Conclusions can be drawn hastily. Let's finish clearing out these metal bastards and secure the beacon." She slapped his back as the train ground to a halt. "Come on, Kryik. We've got work to do."
Work, which started the moment she stepped off the train, nearly tripping over a demolition explosive. Her heart stopped, then kicked straight into third gear. "Oh, good, because my day just wasn't nearly fucked enough." She crouched down over it and cracked open the panel. "The rest of you, go ahead, see if there are others. Move!" Her omnitool sparked to life. "Okay, Instructor Myers, let's see if you knew what you were doing in Ordinance Disarming 403."
She pulled a panel, staring for one helpless second at the foreign mass of wires, circuits, and electronics before her engineer mind began to follow the connections and put together the picture. "I really hope I didn't sleep through this module." She pulled the main circuit board and flipped it over. "Okay. Pull wire A, cross it with ... ."
"More disarming; less senseless chatter!" Nihlus said, his voice practically barking in her ear. "There's another one up here."
"And another here," Williams called.
"I've got this one, Shepard," Nihlus said. "Take care of Williams's."
Shepard finished disarming the first device, picked up her rifle and ran after them. She dashed across a short bridge, geth rounds peppering her shields, and slid into cover behind a giant crate. Peeking out, she took stock, just to find another of the green destroyer barrelling down the walkway.
"What is it with the suicidal ones?" She swung out, pounding it with three round bursts from her assault rifle until it went down, along with her shields, and slid into her feet. Stepping over and around it, Shepard strode forward, looking for any more devices, taking a couple of bullets before she stepped behind cover.
"Williams, where are you?" she called, homing in on a waving arm from an alcove ten metres ahead. "Gotcha."
Kaidan hit the wall next to her and gave her medigel. "You're shot, Commander. Do you have some krogan in you?"
She leaned out around him and took out a trooper. "I don't know, I might. Mama was a big woman." With their tell-tale buzz-zap, her shields alerted her to their recovery, and she bolted forward to disarm the next device. "If someone could watch my ass while I disarm this—metaphorically, not actually Alenko—I'd appreciate it."
He took cover just ahead of her, sputtering. "What? Ma'am … I'd never! I … can't … ."
Nihlus chuckled as he ran by. "You're going to have to throw up some shields there, Lieutenant."
Jenkins took cover across from Alenko while Ashley trotted past, laughing the whole way. "Wow, I've never seen anyone go that red, LT. I think your face might be hemorrhaging."
"Why is everyone joking?" Jenkins hollered, his voice strained and high, almost hysterical. "People are dying! My folks could be dying!"
"Hey, kid," Alenko said, stepping up and allowing Shepard to concentrate on her work, "it's just a coping mechanism. We're still working as fast as we can to make sure Eden Prime stays standing. Breathe and relax a little. We'll get it done. The commander and Spectre Kryik are pros. They've seen a lot worse than this and kicked its ass."
Shepard didn't know if that was true, but let the rest of the banter wash over her as she pulled apart the third of the devices. The timers ticked below two minutes, her heart slowing until it pounded in time with the countdown, each beat thumping heavy and sonorous in her ears. Glancing up, she looked for the Spectre. Where was Nihlus? He needed to find the last one, and quickly. A second later, the sound of his long, heavy stride hammering down the metal walkway eased the breath from her lungs.
The timer in front of her died with the faint, doppler-esque whine of electronics powering down. "Praise be to the great, glowing asses of the Enkindlers," she said, the words tumbling out alongside a sigh. Leaping to her feet, she chased after the Spectre, sliding into cover behind the railing as several geth dropped in on the other side of the bridge. The enemies' angle negated Nihlus's cover as he worked over the last device.
"Damn!" he cursed, a bullet hitting the panel he was working on.
Shepard winced as he snatched his hand back, giving it a reflexive shake. "You okay?" She jumped into the line of fire, using her shields to protect him. Even as she switched guns, one eye kept watch on her shield indicator. Hopefully the damned things held long enough.
"Yeah," he said, sounding grumpy and embarrassed. Poor Spectre, having to depend on someone to cover him. How it must burn.
A slightly manic, battle-high fueled grin answered that idea. "Just keep working." She caressed the rifle's long barrel on her way to the trigger. "Ingrid and I have your back." She couched the stock in her shoulder, and, sighting with practised ease, sent bullets ripping straight through the flashlights on each head. "Bulls-eye, Ingrid sweetie." She kissed the rifle and traded it out. "Kryik, you done back there? Please tell me you're not just crouching there staring at my ass."
Nihlus swung past her, strong and confident. The earlier fog of shock had evaporated in favour of a much more productive, diamond-hard rage. "I was wondering if it came in adult size."
A startled laugh escaped; some fire left indeed. Shepard grinned and hefted her assault rifle, jogging down the remainder of the walkway, cackling to herself. "Come on, people, let's get moving. We've got a beacon to secure."
The familiar screeching of the husk spikes greeted them when they ran out onto the docking platform. Shepard groaned, and started backing up to buy some room as the husks scrambled toward them, dodging and stumbling all over the place.
"It's like that damned retro game at the fairs," Jenkins said, then cursed as he peppered the dodgy things with lead.
"Whack-A-Mole," Ashley called back, "yeah. Could someone tell these buggers to stand still?"
"Or at least run in a straight line, Williams?" Shepard laughed, pounding one down, but close enough that its dying discharge shredded her shields and seared along her skin. "That's going to leave a mark," she muttered between clenched teeth.
"Weren't you supposed to remember not to let them do that again?" the gunnery chief asked, her voice sharp.
"Yeah, and damn, it stings." The last husk down, Shepard traded guns, able to see three geth taking cover behind crates.
"You'll never hit them from here, Shepard," Nihlus called, moving up, trading his shotgun for his HMWSR X.
As she pulled her much older version of the same gun from her back, Shepard didn't bother replying. She preferred to let her bullets do her bragging. Nestling Ingrid into her shoulder, she sighted down the four inches of flashlight head sticking up above the crate. One shot, down. Next. One shot, down. She moved up a couple of feet to get a better angle on the last one, sighted it down. Crack. Ingrid sent a bullet splitting the air, right into the back of the geth's arched neck. Crack. The second one sent it sprawling across the dock in a shower of white fluid.
Shepard sighed, the corner of her mouth lifting, the heady satisfaction of three targets in four shots warming her through. "God, I love you." Trading Ingrid for her equally ancient Mattock, she said, "Come along, Roger, old bean. Let's get this done. Glory hallelujah."
She said nothing to Nihlus as she passed, feeling no immediate need to rub his face in her marksmanship. Surely, if he'd given her a Spectre-candidate recommendation, he'd dug deep enough into her record to know about her one great talent. Well, one of her great talents. She'd yet to find a use or need for cross-country skiing in her work. As exciting as her life could be at times, it wasn't a Bond film.
Movement at the far end of the docking floor caught her eye, apparently at the same time it caught Nihlus's. The Spectre spun around to face the flash of silver armour racing along the walkway between platforms. Fury sizzled through the torin, lightning striking close enough to raise the hair on her arms.
"Saren!" The Spectre raced off in hot pursuit, Alenko and Williams following. Shepard almost called them back, but then just let them go. At least Nihlus would have backup if he actually caught the other Spectre, and chasing Saren around would keep Nihlus busy.
She focused on the tall, slender piece of technology standing ten metres away. Her priority had to be getting the beacon onto the Normandy. The pillar of gunmetal grey glowed with green energy. Something about the fine, emerald nimbus drifting from it stabbed skeletal fingers of dread into her guts. A long, slow scowl pulled her brow into a knot. "Hey, Williams, was this thing glowing before?"
"No, ma'am." The chief's voice wheezed a little over the sound of her boots pounding against the metal decking. "Damn, turians are fast."
Shepard glanced toward the chase, bringing Roger to her shoulder. The second Spectre paused in her sights for the barest moment, glancing back. When he saw Nihlus gaining on him, Saren jumped over the railing, disappearing into the tops of the trees below. Shock paralysed Shepard for a half second before she lifted her scope to her eye and scanned the trees. Nothing. No sign of a mangled corpse tangled in branches. Rushing forward, she scanned the ground. Still nothing.
What the hell? A jump like that could easily break his legs, if it didn't kill—
A thick, metal surfboard zipped up out of the canopy, the silver-armoured Spectre standing on it. Letting out a jagged cough, she stared, jaw hanging. "Great glowing ... . Well, isn't that slick as shit?" Shepard lowered her rifle, the all too familiar, toxic sludge of defeat slithering through her gut as she watched Saren fly off over the colony.
"Damn, why don't I have one of those?" she muttered under her breath. She glanced at the young Marine standing just off to her left, his face frozen in a comical mask that shifted between horror and awe. "Jenkins, I have a birthday coming up. I want a flying surfboard."
The corporal gave himself a shake, then nodded as the shock drained away. "Understood, ma'am."
Movement at the far end of the dock, drew Shepard's attention. Sucking in a quick, gasping breath, she braced herself to yell at Nihlus as he raced up to the railing and grabbed it, coiling to leap after Saren. The damned fool would kill himself and for nothing! Then, using a biotically enhanced surge of speed, Alenko lunged, grabbing the Spectre with both hands. Throwing himself backwards, the LT yanked Nihlus away from the long drop, the pair of them tumbling to the deck.
Nihlus leaped to his feet, talons poised to kill and aimed at Alenko.
What did I do to get saddled with this turian and all his fucking drama?
She opened a private channel to the Spectre. "Hey! Kyrik! Stand down. Alenko just saved your fucking life." She hawked up the smoke coating the back of her throat. "Your lover's spat will keep until we get this beacon secured." She shook her head and turned back, joining Jenkins over by a bank of lockers. "Hack these, will you kid? See if there are any mods or ammo."
"We need to know why Saren was here and what he was doing, Shepard!" Kryik shouted back, his voice a vicious growl. He spun away from Kaidan, turning all his rage on her, and damn, it burned, even across a hundred metres of dock.
She shrugged, affecting an insolent indifference. "And how does you leaping down thirty metres to break both legs while he flies away on the magical surfboard get us any answers? Stand down. We'll deal with your boyfriend once we get this thing on board the Normandy." She winced as she continued, knowing she was pushing into the truly insensitive. "Come on, get back here, and I'll give you a kiss to tide you over until you get that sweet, sweet turian ... whatever it is you do ... again."
"Fuck you, Shepard!" She jumped at the vehemence behind the swear. He'd been hanging around humans too long. "Don't you know when to just shut up?" His volume practically ripped out her eardrum, the subvocals promising evisceration.
She just smiled despite the grip his rage squeezed around her heart, and closed the channel. As flippant as she behaved, she knew that anger meant that Saren had truly been someone important ... that Nihlus's heart lie in pieces, rattling around the floor of his chest. "That's a boy, get good and furious with me."
Jenkins looked at her and shook his head. "You trying to get shot, Commander?"
"No, but if he's yelling at me, he's not ripping himself apart over Saren betraying him. I can take a little rage if it helps him hold it together until we're back on the Normandy." She slapped the kid on the shoulder and turned toward the beacon, taking a few steps toward it. "That glow can't mean anything good," she grumbled, mostly to herself.
Opening a channel to the Normandy, she called them to come in for pickup.
The hollow, gong-thump of heavy steps on metal alerted her to Nihlus storming up to her, closing on her left ... fast. She waited until the last second to turn. His entire body trembled with fury, murder screaming at her from the brilliant, predatory green of his eyes. He shoved his shotgun into its spot at the small of his back. His fists clenched convulsively, obviously wanting nothing more than to grab her and slam her into the lockers behind her until they reduced her to paste inside her armour.
Shepard just lifted her hand to press against his shoulder, meeting his fury with soft eyes and silent understanding. After a moment, he let out a breath that seemed as though it might deflate him completely. He reached up to remove her hand then stalked off toward the beacon.
"Commander Shepard?" Joker, the Normandy's pilot called. "Incoming for pickup."
"Roger that, Normandy. On my signal. Ground team leader out." Shepard turned to the other three. Alenko and Williams ran up, panting like they'd sprinted three klicks. "Come on, people. Let's get this package ... ."
Shepard caught movement out of the corner of her eye, instinct sending her bolting forward. An energy field erupted from the beacon, grabbing hold of Nihlus and dragging him forward. Damn it, she knew that thing meant trouble. Sprinting across the metres that separated her from the Spectre, she launched herself at him. Before she could throw him clear of the field, it grabbed her as well.
"Crap!" She didn't have the momentum to get either of them loose. Then a bolt of electricity seared through her body, jerking her rigid, her teeth clenching together so hard it felt as though they'd shatter, wiping out any thoughts but for the pain. Her nervous system erupted in blinding flashes of agony that carried with them images too horrific to truly comprehend. Screams ripped from her throat despite the paralysis, screams that shattered into silence upon touching the pure, cool air.
Flashes of death at the hands of an impossibly powerful foe tore through her mind, lightning scorching her synapses, feeling as though it burned the images onto her soul. Born of nightmares that left the dreamer mad and drooling, synthetic monsters ripped through the galaxy, leaving planet after planet desolate and bare. Absolute desolation. Utter annihilation. They corrupted everything they touched.
A second, massive blast of energy ripped through her, incinerating the images and the agony, allowing merciful darkness to fall.