Nihlus held Shepard cradled in his arms. She slept ... finally. He let out a long, soft sigh. After so many days of driving herself relentlessly, refusing to give in to her fear and the grief, he worried she'd self-destruct if she didn't get at least a little rest. Blinking slowly, his eyelids begged him to join her. The days since the disappearance dragged on so long ... so painfully long and filled with the horrible emptiness. He touched his brow to Shepard's and closed his eyes. He would sleep … in a minute or two, but right then, he just wanted to savour the feel of his mate in his arms—
"Hey, Nihlus!" Joker's voice shot through the peace. "Nihlus Kryik! Answer me or I start blasting alarms."
Shepard vanished. What the … ? Damn him. The Spectre forced his eyes open, feeling as if someone had attached weights to his eyelids as he slept. Damn, he hadn't meant to fall asleep at all.
"Five … four … three … ."
"I'm awake, Joker. Shut up." He closed his eyes, covering them with his arm, allowing the memory of the dream to drift back, rich and rare and so very real. He dreamed about Shepard far less than Garrus did. Where his fratrin had lived a double life, escaping to his dreams, Nihlus got infrequent glimpses into moments gone by, particularly standing by helplessly as she died. He woke from those both grateful and thirsty.
Behind his closed eyelids, he tried to reclaim the sensation of her slight weight in his arms … the warmth of her. The dream had been different than his usual … real, and both beautiful and painful in a way that ached deep behind his keel and at the base of his skull. They'd lost something … no, someone … and yet, they still had one another. The fact she needed him present and strong … it kept him from drowning in brandy. He could stay strong for her … his mate.
Enough of that. He dropped his arm and swung off his cot, the movement both sudden and violent. Altogether too keen-edged, the feeling of empty sorrow from the dream sliced at him leaving him bleeding. He needed to leave it behind before his boots hit Freedom's Progress so he stayed focused. Stretching his neck, he reached up to rub just below his fringe. Someone needed to find the frigate that hit him, see how many of his body parts remained stuck to it.
"General quarters," Joker called over the comms. "All hands at general quarters. We'll be hitting the relay in ten minutes. Take a handful of aspirin and pour yourself a huge cup of coffee."
One day, Nihlus foresaw breaking every bone in the mouthy pilot's body and feeling only passing remorse. He shoved himself up off his cot, hung his assault rifle and shotgun from his back, and then headed out. A quick cup of amarceru and a couple of meal bars, then he'd face what awaited them on the other side of the relay. Their only real advantage lie in the fact that they'd managed to make that broken contact with Garrus. Without that, they'd have probably ended up blown to hell.
The galley stood predictably empty. Although … someone had already made a kettle of his strong, bitter drink, leaving a thermos and the container of rylamia honey on the counter next to it. He glared at the thoughtful but 'pretty sure you'll be hung over and will need this' gesture. They respected his skills and his accomplishments, but they all looked at him like Garrus's pathetic little brother despite the age difference the other way. For a long time, he told himself that he didn't care. They didn't need to admire him … hell, they didn't even need to like him … they just needed to obey orders.
He almost believed it … almost convinced himself that the pity in their eyes didn't burn. Almost. Being drunk helped with that conviction. Once upon a time—as the humans said—he'd been a stone cold bad ass. As he picked up the kettle, a sharp, bitter laugh tumbled out, all glass shards and rusted nails. Then he threw Shepard's name into the hunt for new Spectres. What in the name of buratrum happened to that driven, ambitious torin? Another laugh, that one softer and sadder, rumbled deep in his throat.
Shepard. Shepard happened.
Shaking that off, he filled the thermos, dumped in half the container of honey, and stowed the kettle and container, his movements abrupt and efficient. Loose items turned into missiles when space combat went badly. Picking up his thermos, he capped it, and then shook it as he made his way to the bridge.
Anderson stood by the galaxy map talking to Alenko. The captain broke off and fell in step next to Nihlus as he passed. The Spectre lifted his thermos a little and nodded his thanks to the lieutenant commander before turning his attention to the Normandy's captain.
"Anything new to report?" he asked.
A heavy scowl creased the captain's face as he glanced over at Nihlus. "Vortash contacted us. Nyreen Kandros has disappeared, but reports for her eyes have kept coming in. According to Instructor Kandros's intel, all of the merc organizations on Omega have had an influx of new personnel in the last few days. Vortash is updating and beefing security, just in case they've come gunning for Archangel."
Nihlus shook his head and took a deep breath. "Has he been able to get through to Garrus? And is it the big three, or the smaller bands as well?" A block of ice dropped into his gut. The leadership called away into traps, the fleet and almost all trained personnel scattered around the galaxy. Of course the mercs were there for Archangel.
Anderson jogged up the ramp. "All of them, even some private organizations that he says have never traditionally had a presence on Omega." He shrugged. "We're out here. Garrus is on Tuchanka. They're hoping to raze the ground clean before we can get back."
The Spectre nodded, agreeing. Thank the spirits for Kandros's gang connections and their intel. Nihlus followed Anderson without really paying attention to where he was going. Vortash possessed the tactical knowledge and brains to prepare, and most of the inner circle remained on Omega. Add to that, the fact that the base could be turned into a fortress at a moment's notice … they had a shot of holding out until reinforcements got there.
"Is he recalling Archangel forces?" When Anderson shook his head, Nihlus let out a long breath. "When we're done here, I'll contact Vortash, tell him to pull back the ships on colony patrol. The council isn't just playing at trying to bring us down. They must be planning something big and soon."
A thoughtful, worried scowl creased the captain's brow. "I'll let Hackett know what's going on. He can't help out on Omega, but he can keep an eye out for whatever the council is up to. Maybe we can finally get some traction on what the Reapers are doing out here."
"Abducting thousands of colonists is what they're doing." Nihlus's mandibles dropped, giving a small, sharp flick as he shook his head. "They're replacing the Vanguard. Somewhere, they're building themselves a new Reaper."
"Hitting the relay in two minutes, Captain," Joker reported. He shot a snarky glare at Nihlus. "Have a good sleep?"
Nihlus just flicked his mandibles and looked away.
Anderson clipped the pilot across the back of the head without any force. "Enough, Lieutenant. Have the Banquan and Aesarus reported in?"
"Yes, sir." Joker's hands flew over the controls. "They're at general quarters and loaded for bear.
As much as Nihlus hoped they wouldn't need to be battle ready, he knew that the way their luck ran lately, a greeting of thanix cannons and missiles awaited them on the other end. He belted back a long draught of amarceru and gripped the back of the gunnery station's chair.
"Captain. Nihlus." Alenko nodded to them both as he slipped into his seat, armoured up and ready to drop as soon as they fought their way to Freedom's Progress. Activating the station, he brought up several screens. "Long range telemetry from the relay showing nothing from the system, Captain," he reported, but his posture shifted, his hands working quickly, flipping screens for a moment before he glanced over his shoulder at Anderson. "We're not getting anything at all from the other end. I asked the relay for the weather conditions and then tried to route a transmission through the relay … the entire system is dark, sir."
Anderson nodded and reached around Joker to hit the comms. "All hands, prepare for battle. Helmets and safety harnesses on. We're going in hot."
"They boarded the Passch," Nihlus said. "If they want to set us up for Freedom's Progress, they'll probably try the same trick. If we jump through alone, we could draw them in." He waited for Anderson to show positive signs before turning his attention to Joker. "Can you out maneuver the Stinger long enough to draw them in?"
The pilot just scoffed. "Relay in twenty seconds."
Nihlus sent orders to the Banquan and Aesarus to give the Normandy a five minute head start. Taking drift into consideration, he didn't dare bring them in any later. As fine a pilot as Joker was, three or four ships tilted the odds too far in the enemy's favour.
The Spectre grounded his stance and gripped the back of Alenko's chair as the relay grabbed them and shot the little frigate through space, not for the jump itself, but in anticipation of the stunt flying that awaited at the other end.
Joker did not disappoint.
Nihlus saw the incoming fire long before he spotted the ships. Stepping back, he just kept out of the way, leaving it to Anderson to direct his vessel through the engagement.
"Pull them away from the relay and toward the planet," Anderson ordered. "Let's give our ships the best shot to come in on their flanks."
"The Stinger's closing," Kaidan called. "It'll be in firing range in one hundred and four seconds."
"Don't get your shorts in a knot," Joker grumbled. "I can keep us out of the line of fire."
Nihlus straightened to look over Alenko's shoulder at the tactical screen. The Stinger came at them aggressively, the other two hanging back. No doubt they awaited a more helpless target. He glanced over at Anderson. "We might be able to use the Stinger to our advantage. If Joker can keep it dogging us, keep them off balance, we might be able to use them to tear down a good chunk of that cruiser's shields."
Anderson nodded. "Joker?"
He snorted. "You're doubting my ability to piss people off so badly they're willing to blow up everything in sight just to kill me?" He sent the Normandy into a roll, bringing it around for Alenko to strafe the stolen frigate with fire before darting off. "Nihlus, give the man a reference. Pretty sure you've imagined killing me a dozen times already today."
"Sixteen. All different, all using just one hand." Although, as Nihlus watched the pilot maneuver, he could see why no one had killed the snarky pain in the ass. He and the Normandy formed a single organism, the little ship appearing at the Stinger's flank just long enough to pound the broadside with the main gun before diving away out of range of its main weapon.
Five times the Normandy harried the bigger ship before it fell within range of the Stinger's main weapon. "Oh no," Joker gasped, his voice dripping sarcasm. "No! God! What have I done? I've killed us all."
"Stinger is ready to fire," Alenko reported, a wide grin showing his appreciation for the pilot's little melodrama.
"I wish I'd had a chance to tell my nana I loved her," Joker gasped, pulling the frigate hard to port, then into a dive.
"Stinger firing!"
Nihlus grinned as the nimble Normandy rolled out of the path of the blast, the cruiser directly ahead taking the hit.
"Didn't see that coming, did you?" Joker crowed.
Alenko chuckled. "Cruiser's shields are down to thirty percent. Banquan and Aesarus incoming." He tried to contact the other two ships. "Comms jammed, Captain. Coordinating the attack through running light protocols."
"Good work, Joker." Anderson clapped the pilot on the shoulder, then gave Nihlus an appreciative nod.
Nihlus kept his attention on the tactical display. The Banquan acquitted itself admirably, separating off the cruiser and whittling it down while leading it on a merry chase. The Aesarus, however came out of its relay jump between the Stinger and the heavy frigate.
The Spectre stepped up between the seats, a plan forming in his mind … the pieces just lining up and falling into place. "Joker, can you bring us in on the Stinger's flank?" he asked, bringing the tactical up on his omnitool. "If you come in on it from this heading, you should be able to get some solid hits in on the emitters." He sent the course information to the pilot.
"We're going to be a sitting duck if it fires." Still, Joker input the course.
Nihlus nodded, a slight smile answering the pilot's trust. "That's all right. I know you can get us out of the way." Trust given, trust returned. "Alenko, send this message to the Aesarus and Banquan. As soon as the Stinger fires on us, they need to strike the emitters near the bow." He leaned forward, every muscle tense, expectant, and moving with the Normandy as if he could help the ship through the maneuvers it needed to pull off. His heart beat hard but steady, adrenaline fueling his muscles in a slow burn.
Heady and powerful, the Spectre settled back into Nihlus's body, taking hold for what felt like the first time since Saren tried to shoot him in the back of the head. Drawing in long, full breaths, he watched the battle play out on his omnitool. The Aesarus was going down faster than they could respond.
"Alenko. Have the Banquan draw that damned cruiser in, place it between the Normandy and the Stinger. Shove it right up their ass. Then tell the Aesarus to pull back, we'll give it some cover with our shields." He stepped over behind Kaidan, pointing out the positions on the screen.
"Two birds, one stone," Kaidan said. He nodded and grinned as he relayed the message via the ship's running lights.
Space battles made Nihlus crazy. Far too many drawn out minutes of maneuvering followed by too few seconds of frantic fire and evasion. Not to mention having to just stand there and let others fight. That never sat well. However, running the battle, being able to see the pieces on the board and knowing where to move them … how to use them … that pulled at something deep inside him. He suspected he had Tashac to thank.
"Aesarus is pulling back," Kaidan reported. "Enemy cruiser has hull breaches on all decks. We're twenty seconds from position on the Stinger. It's retreating."
Joker laughed. "They finally figured out what we're doing. Too late, suckers. You're already dead."
The Normandy fired, and the next second, the Stinger's shield emitters went up in a shower of short-lived sparks.
"Excellent work. Blow that thing to hell." Nihlus punched his hand down on the back of the seat, barely suppressing the urge to crow as the Stinger went up, the blast from it tearing apart the cruiser as well. "All right, the last frigate. Alenko, order the Aesarus to Freedom's Progress. Have her run silent. We can handle these bastards."
He felt Anderson's hand, heavy and welcome, slap him on the shoulder as explosions tore through the heavy frigate, the Normandy's ports bright as the core blew, then darkness.
"Not bad for a Spectre," Joker said, tossing a grin over one shoulder.
Nihlus took a deep, sharp breath and nodded to himself. Not bad at all. He looked over Joker's shoulder. "Time to shuttle departure?"
"Four hours." A pregnant pause just begging for a punchline followed. "Not enough time for a nap."
"Alenko, I'll see you and the rest of the team at the shuttle in three hours." Nihlus nodded to Anderson, then strode from the bridge, his mandibles fluttering. Maybe, just maybe, he could find his way back. Well, most of the way. The thought of going back to his life before boarding the Normandy sent an arid wind blowing through him. No, hopefully that particular Nihlus died along with Saren.
§
Humans needed to stop settling every frozen rock in the galaxy. Frozen wastelands didn't make for a very self-sustaining colony nor a very welcoming place to visit. Nihlus shivered as he sealed the faceplate on his helmet. When that didn't help, he cranked up his armour's heater. He cracked his neck, then pulled his shotgun and headed out, his team falling into formation behind him. Well, except for Kasumi. The moment she cloaked, he suspected that she'd taken off, eager to explore and check the empty homes for valuables.
Icy fingers walked up his spine, grabbing hold of it at the base of his skull. The silence felt almost alive, the air trembling with the ghosts of whatever had happened there. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake it off. Superstitious nonsense wouldn't help them figure out how to respond to what happened. The colonists hadn't been spirited away by ghosts or evil spirits. The responsibility lie on very real, very mortal beings, and he needed to keep his wits about him to figure out where the Collectors were taking their captives.
He motioned for his team to take cover before he palmed the door control on the first prefab. Gun and gaze swept the room. "Clear." Relaxing his weapon down to low ready, Nihlus stepped inside, the grip on his spine tightening. Dishes still covered in food sat on the table, and the elements on the stove a few metres further in, glowed red.
Kaidan let out a slight hiss of breath that clouded the air in front of his face. Nihlus envied the human his tolerance for the cold. "Taken in the middle of dinner," Alenko said, his voice hushed. The lieutenant commander walked over to the table. "On Earth we have legends about disappearances like this." Turning away, he looked into Nihlus's eyes. "I used to read every one I could get my hands on." He winced. "Thought they were exciting."
Nihlus nodded, understanding what Alenko was feeling. Gesturing toward the far door with his shotgun, he said, "Let's move. Keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary." He glanced around. "Miss Goto, if you're still here, stay in visual range unless comms are restored."
"It never changes with you cops, always trying to cramp my style." The far door opened. "Don't worry, if there's something to find, I'll find it, Mr. Spectre Bossman."
Suppressing a grumbled response, Nihlus exited onto a metal walkway that rattled and banged under their boots. If anyone, friendly or not, remained, they knew company had arrived.
A set of stairs led down into a small open area. Nihlus headed out, staying close to cover until he swept the area. Nothing ... not even trash blowing in the wind. The silence and the wind reminded him of Noveria, particularly with his inner voice echoing the way Shepard had sounded—paranoid and skittish, expecting attack from everywhere despite seeing no enemies anywhere.
"No damage, no bodies, no blast marks … ." One of the Marines stopped in the middle of the courtyard and spun in a small circle, his assault rifle jumping up to his shoulder. "This place is so fucking wrong."
"Stow the chatter," Nihlus said, despite agreeing. His back muscles tightened as he looked over the day's work sitting abandoned, crates and building materials left where the colonists dropped them. He approached a loader, reaching in to check the ignition: still in the on position despite having run out of fuel. The leaden sky pressed down on him, each drifting snowflake piling up like boulders.
"Stop it," he grumbled to himself and pressed on. He paused at the top of a short ramp leading down to the large gate bisecting the massive stone wall at the far end. A second prefab stood off to his right. He turned to Alenko, the Marine already watching him, anticipating orders. Two quick hand signals sent the lieutenant commander and the twitchy gropo to check it out while the rest of them headed down to the gate.
Pain struck like lightning. Nihlus stumbled, almost going down on one knee, but caught himself against a pile of crates. Agonizing electricity spiked straight down through the top of his head to sizzle along his spine. A low moan spooled from his throat as he pressed a hand against his helmet and squeezed his eyes shut against the excruciating pressure. His brain felt as if the jolt had flash cooked it to a rapid boil.
"You okay, Mr. Bossman?" Kasumi's voice asked from off to his right.
He nodded, waving her off as he felt her close in on him. "I'm fine." Forcing his hand back to his side, he straightened.
Pain. So much pain for so long. Years beyond count spent hiding, separated. Not meant to be this way. Never meant to be this way.
Nihlus spun around, searching for the source of the voice … no, not one voice … or at least not one mind … but rather, a chorus of tiny minds, each adding a note, combining to form a single voice that bounced around the inside of his skull. The source of the pain? No. No, there needed to be a rational explanation. He turned to his team. They'd spread out, waiting for him to open the gate. None of them looked at him let alone spoke. So much for a easily explained, sane reason for hearing voices. Fuck, excellent bloody time to lose his damned mind.
The same flash he'd seen in the dream that told him Freedom's Progress had been attacked—a wall of snow glistening against the side of a mountain—raced through his mind, quick and sharp … almost like a preteril dashing from burrow to burrow under the predatory gaze of a circling maraquil. The pain retreated, chased away by the sinking in his belly. Great, he was back to snow calling for help. Amalair really needed to figure out a way to communicate that made sense. Not to mention finding a method that didn't feel like it tore his brain from his skull.
A thought chased the vision through, too quick to hold onto, but it felt like recognition … as if whomever spoke in his head realized that he could hear them. He shook his head and forced his focus back on the mission as Alenko and Peterson exited the prefab. Nihlus stepped forward, a sudden gust of wind swirling the snow around his feet. What Shepard had called a wind devil centered around him, lifting the frozen crystals in a column that whirled around him for the span of five or six heartbeats before settling back to the ground.
Strange.
"Clear and empty," Alenko reported, pulling the Spectre's attention back where it belonged. "No sign of struggle and no evidence."
"There won't be." Nihlus gestured for everyone to take cover while he opened the gate. The moment the barrier fell bullets peppered his shields. Damn. He caught a glimpse of vaguely humanoid shapes. Mechs. He raced forward, diving into cover behind a stack of crates. At least that meant that someone managed to trigger security. He switched out the shotgun for his assault rifle. As he opened fire on the two LOKI mechs on a balcony opposite, he spotted K-rails set up in positions that looked as though they'd been used as cover. Had the colonists managed to mount a defense? Maybe the last few had tried to pull back to the spaceport.
The two LOKI's went down, but three more had already opened fire from another balcony on his right. Sprinting forward, he took cover behind the K-rails. The rest of his squad followed him in, Alenko lifting a FENRIS as it charged down the stairs. Damn. Nihlus opened fire on a second. He'd rather face down a pack of angry varren than a couple of FENRIS. Alenko's lift wore off, and as the mech dropped, Nihlus tossed a grenade at it.
"Overkill much?" Kasumi's voice asked from beside him, followed by a teasing chuckle.
"No such thing as overkill with those things," he replied as he lifted up, bringing one of the LOKI's down. Two of the mechs closed, pinning a pair of Marines behind cover. "Make yourself useful, and take one of those out," he ordered.
"Already on it." A second later, she appeared behind the far one, taking it down in a single blow.
Nihlus waited for her to vanish before opening fire on the last one, drawing it off the two pinned soldiers long enough for them to take it out.
'You see! You hear!' the strange choral voice rang over Nihlus's thoughts, bringing with it dizziness that time … almost euphoria … rather than pain. 'The black thrall rises. They hunger for power lost so long ago that even they forget, but you fight it.'
"Clear," Alenko called, pulling Nihlus away from the voice in his head.
The Spectre stood and strode around the K-rail. They needed to get through the damned colony and get out before he lost his mind completely. Moving with purpose, he ran up the stairs and into the next prefab.
He glanced back once he saw the building was clear. "Alenko, see if you can find out exactly what this colony's compliment of mechs was. I want to know what we've got waiting ahead of us." The prefab had been a bunk house, just rows of neatly made bunk beds lined along the one wall. A pair of lockers stood between each, but everything remained in place, untouched, right down to the weapons still locked up in the safes.
"Most of the computers on this network are a mess," Kaidan reported. "It's like someone went in and scrambled the hell out of them." He glanced up, his eyebrows raising as he shrugged. "Maybe to keep the Collectors from finding something?" He grumbled and pecked away at his omnitool. "Defenses took the heaviest hit from my saboteur, but it looks like at least twenty YMIR mechs … " One of the other Marines cursed. "... fifty or so FENRIS, at least one hundred LOKI, and that number of drones."
"Bloody hell," Peterson grumbled, "why does a colony the size of this one need that sort of firepower?" The human spun to face the entrance, his jumpiness making Nihlus nervous. One twitchy member could bring down the entire squad.
"This is the Terminus," Kaidan answered. "The colonies out here rejected Alliance security forces. Considering there were nearly a million people here … that's not a lot. Takes a lot of mechs, even the big ones, to equal a single human soldier's ability to plan and adapt." The lieutenant commander looked over at Nihlus. "We've seen what? Three FENRIS and ten LOKIs? That's a lot of resistance waiting ahead of us."
Nihlus took cover next to the door, hearing the sound of servos drifting on the wind as mechs closed in on them. "They'll be spread out through the colony, so we might run into a third of that number, but we need to stay sharp and quiet. Hand signals and a lot less chatter." He signaled for the others to take cover as he heard treads on the stairs outside the door.
"Alenko," he whispered, his voice a low hiss. When Kaidan looked at him, Nihlus signaled for him to keep an eye on Peterson. When Kaidan answered with a nod, the Spectre hit the door control.
The room dissolved into the chaos of battle, Alenko trying to keep the enemy out of the door with lifts and throws while the rest of them pounded the mechs with bullets. Knowing that a great many YMIRs awaited them, Nihlus held onto his remaining grenades in case he couldn't find more.
Alenko triggered his barrier, the action sparking an unexpected nostalgia. The crackle and tingle of the man's biotics took Nihlus back to fighting side by side with Saren. That sensation along his hide had once been as much a part of battle as the feel of his shotgun bucking in his hands.
Peterson and one of the other Marines, Wenslar, took wounds, the second requiring they pause for Alenko to close the wound and bind it in addition to medigel. Nihlus tried to send the woman back to the shuttle, but she refused, claiming that she was fine to continue on.
For the next half hour, they fought a constant, moving battle against the smaller mechs and drones. Moving far slower than Nihlus would have liked, they cleared home after home, scans revealing nothing to aid them. Not that Nihlus needed proof to know who was responsible or how they did it. Ashley locked that down for him. What he needed was proof he could show the galaxy to get them on board, and some means of tracking the Collectors down. Some samples of the damned insect-drones couldn't hurt either. They'd need a means of defending against them if they wanted to avoid being turned into Reaper paste after their first encounter.
They descended a long flight of stairs into an open area, filled with construction materials and crates. Only two routes led in or out: the stairs and a large gate at the far end. No mechs in sight, although he moved his people forward from cover to cover, leaving the wounded at the top of the stairs to cover them from above.
"Drones, incoming," Peterson whispered down. "A lot of them."
Twenty five assorted rocket and assault drones swooped down on the squad, some of them darting around above them like a flock of maraquil, some planting themselves on walls and pilings. Nihlus took cover on the lower balcony, keenly aware of the thin barrier of metal between him and the drones, particularly as rounds punched dents in the railing a hand's span from his head. It wouldn't stop them forever. The fight dragged on, he and Alenko using overload to bring down their shields, the rest of them whittling away with assault rifles.
"We need more people with biotic and tech combat training on the Normandy," Kaidan gasped as he lifted a hand to the back of his head. "I think I set my hair on fire throwing those last few."
Nihlus stood and leaned against the balcony railing. "We can't all dive into a drive core to get biotics, but we should have overload and sabotage on our omnitools." He made a note to bring that up to Garrus. Taking a deep breath, he looked over his squad. Exhausted, but resolute, they all nodded their readiness to move on. Peterson seemed to have calmed down, and Wenslar appeared to be moving well. He returned their nod and set out for the large gate. Without needing to be told, the squad spread out in pairs, taking cover.
Once they were all settled, Nihlus moved into cover on the right side of the gate then signalled Alenko to override the controls. The longer they stayed on that frozen rock, the heavier that dead sky pressed down, tightening the twist in his gut. He'd spent far too much time on dead worlds, battered by the screams of the terrified dead. No. Nihlus hadn't. He let out a bitter sigh as Merol's memories hung over him like a guillotine blade. Shaking his head, he pulled himself back to the present. His hand twitched, fighting the gravity of the flask on his thigh.
That was the last thing he needed. He leaned into the wall at his back, watching the gate drop into the ground.
"Hey, Mr. Bossman." Nihlus jumped and spun around to level his assault rifle on what looked like empty space but for the slight shimmer of Miss Goto's cloak. The thief chuckled. "You're jumpy for a Spectre." Her cloak reset, revealing her slight form for less than a second. "I scouted off to the west end of the colony. I didn't find anything other than a few mechs."
Nihlus grunted a vague acknowledgement and turned back. Footprints in the snow crossed the gate's threshold ahead of them, but then another freak gust of wind set the snow swirling, erasing them.
They wait! Empty places with guns. So much death costing so little.
Nihlus shook his head as if that could clear away the voice and concentrated his senses on the other side of the gate. They still hadn't run across a single YMIR, a fact that tugged at his plates. He closed his eyes, straining to hear or sense anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. He activated his omnitool and scanned the area ahead.
Still nothing. Not that twenty mechs couldn't be standing a few metres away, powered down and waiting. He glanced out to discover a large, empty space surrounded by prefabs. Cautious, every sense extended and keenly sharpened, he swung through the gate and stepped over the threshold, his assault rifle sweeping the area. Nothing. Not a mech or drone in sight.
His inner alarm began to shriek, but with nothing to blame it on, all he could do was keep moving forward. If something appeared, they'd deal with it. Taking position where he could cover the entire yard, he sent his people forward, moving them from cover to cover and then sending them in pairs to check out the buildings.
He and one of the Marines—Mendez, if he recalled correctly—headed toward the building at the far end of the little enclave. Transmission and reception towers covered the roof. Hope bloomed, hot and fierce in his chest. They might be able to shut the mechs down from there. And maybe, just maybe, the colony's security cameras managed to capture footage of what happened.
Two steps from the door, Mendez stopped and turned to look up into the low clouds and darkness. She pointed to a set of lights swooping down from orbit. "Incoming shuttle."
He watched for a second, then jerked his head toward their destination. "Keep moving." Even if the shuttle had markings to identify it, he'd never make them out in the dark. Best thing they could do was keep moving. No doubt they would meet up with their visitors at some point. If they proved friendly, it would make getting past the mechs a lot easier. That thought lifted the oppressive cloud of doom for the first time since they landed.
The lightness lasted until he put his foot on the first stair up to the building. The sound of mechs whirring to life filled the courtyard, swelling and echoing off the walls until it deafened him. Grabbing Mendez, he pulled her out of her stunned paralysis and shoved her up the stairs.
"Everyone inside!" he shouted then ran to obey his own command. A rocket ripped through the stairs behind him and sent him tumbling in the door. "Close it!" he called, scrambling on all fours to the window. Crouching, he lifted up just far enough to peer out. Three YMIRs stomped into a line down the front of the building and opened fire. Nihlus threw himself to the floor as the window above him exploded from its frame and flew across the room. Mendez hit the deck a fraction of a second before losing the top half of her head.
Nihlus's heartbeat slammed in his ears and at the base of his throat. Too fucking close. The sound of the machines' mass accelerator cannons began to wind down, which meant two things. He scooted across the floor, grabbed Mendez again and shoved her toward the door. The two of them didn't stand a chance against three of those monsters. He flattened out on the floor and covered both their heads as the inside of the building exploded. Shrapnel pelted their shields, then silence fell for a half second while the mechs changed back to their cannons.
Letting out his breath with a hearty grunt, Nihlus scrambled up into a crouch. He leaned close to Mendez's ear, keeping his voice to a barely audible whisper. "The next time they change to missiles, we hit the door, go straight down the ramp and across to the next building. Understood?"
The Marine nodded, swiping at a rivulet of blood that ran down her cheek. A deep scowl puckered her brow, and he could see her jaw working as she ground her teeth. Good. Angry and ready to rip mechs apart with her bare hands was good. He prepared to bolt.
"Nihlus, do you read?"
It took the Spectre a second to make out the call through the ringing in his ears. Comms, thank the spirits. He raised his hand to his radio. "Alenko. Sitrep."
"Petersen and I are pinned down behind crates along the back wall. There has to be a dozen of those damned things out there. We're going to get shredded unless we can get into some decent cover." The lieutenant commander's voice sounded understandably tense, but calm. Not that Nihlus expected anything less.
"They're fucking everywhere, man," Petersen hollered in the background.
"Hey, Bossman," Kasumi said, joining the channel, "your building isn't going to take much more punishment. The supports to the top section are about to go. You need to move. The building closest to the gate is the most heavily fortified. I can cover you with flashbangs, draw them toward the gate for a minute or so. You'll have to move fast."
"Understood." Nihlus reached up for the door control as the mechs wound down, preparing to launch their missiles. "Alenko, you copy that?"
"Affirmative. We'll be ready to move."
Nihlus hit the control a second before he heard Kasumi start taunting the mechs. "Head straight for the crates, move from cover to cover," he told Mendez as he sprinted over the threshold. Keeping the Marine in front of him, he leaped down the stairs, racing for a large stack of crates. The far end of the yard exploded in a series of bright flashes and concussive blasts that left his head ringing, but the mechs turned toward the disruption.
They made it to the stairs and, pushing Alenko and Petersen ahead of them, in the door.
Guyliev waved them over. "Help us push these bunks in front of the windows. Once they figure out that we're all in here, they'll tear it apart."
The damned bunks weighed a lot more than it looked like they should, taking all six of them pulling and pushing to scrape it across the floor.
"I'm out," Kasumi called in Nihlus's ear. "Going—"
The door on the left hand side of the building exploded in, the metal tearing like tin foil as the blast ripped Nihlus off his feet and slammed him into the end of a bunk. His right arm bashed into one of the metal supports a second before his helmet hit and blinding light exploded inside his head. He impacted the side of the bed and slumped to the floor. After a few seconds of lying there, stunned into immobility, he tried to push himself up, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't harangue any of his body parts into obeying.
"Nihlus!" Kaidan crouched next to him. "Kasumi, Mendez, Peterson, watch that door." The bright orange of Alenko's omnitool registered through the thick, vibrating haze that covered Nihlus's vision. "Damn, that's a skull fracture." The lieutenant commander pinned Nihlus to the floor with a knee on his shoulder. "Stay still."
Groaning, Nihlus pushed at the Marine. He needed to get up. They needed to pull back, regroup.
"Don't move," Kaidan repeated. "I've got to check on Guyliev."
As soon as Alenko moved away, Nihlus tried to haul himself up off the floor, but his arm collapsed, the armour and bone shattering like porcelain beneath a heavy boot. Pain blossomed in slow motion, fighting its way through the fog that bogged down his thoughts. Then movement outside the door pushed everything else aside, and frantic talons scrabbled for his rifle, the gun lying a metre or so away. Damned mechs were punching through. Dragging himself across the floor, he managed to wrap his talons around the weapon. Then people leaped in the hole where the door had been, taking positions in the window to fire out
The shuttle they'd seen coming in. He let out a faint sigh of relief; they seemed friendly.
"Start pulling these people out," a female voice yelled over the roar of guns. As Nihlus lifted his head from the floor, he saw her hit the deck, a rocket streaking over her head to blow a bunk bed into shrapnel. "Sweet baby Jesus … too close." She clambered back into cover and leaned out, tossing grenades into the cluster of mechs. Grabbing at her belt, her hand came away empty.
Quick, head darting almost bird-like, she scanned the room, locking on the grenades still attached to his armour. Scrambling over, she plucked them from his belt, muttering, "Sorry about this." Returning to the window, she tossed the grenades out.
"Miranda, bypass that weapon locker," she hollered over her shoulder. "We need rocket or grenade launchers." She pulled a large weapon off her back. "Everyone, heavy cover. Now! Get the wounded back. I have no fucking idea what this thing will do."
"Shepard?" Alenko called. "What the hell? Shepard?"
"See to your wounded, Sparky," was all she said as she stood to fire the big, awkward looking gun. "Damned thing needs a shorter priming time," she yelled as bullets impacted her shields, but then lightning arced from the end. She ducked back into cover. "All hail the blessed Enkindlers and just call me Zeus. This baby is a keeper!" She stood, firing lightning at the mechs again.
"Al," the small woman—Shepard?—shouted when she took cover again, "grab the big guy. I'll give you a hand in a second."
Nihlus stared, trying to see through the haze of vibration and flashing lights. She moved quick and rough, limping heavily, but not letting it impede her as she ducked into cover next to the huge hole in the prefab's wall. She and two others provided cover while the rest of her team helped the Alliance personnel past the distracted mechs and toward the gate.
Rough hands grabbed Nihlus, hauling him up off the floor. "Move it, Spectre," a raspy, dual-toned voice grumbled, "unless you want to become a permanent addition to this frozen hell."
Nihlus leaned heavily on the other turian, still not quite registering anything happening around him. Voices and movement all seemed to slur into one another and it took all his concentration just to keep one foot moving then the other.
Then the snowy ground flew up, slamming him straight in the face. He groaned and tried to pull his broken arm out from under him, the pain returning full force.
"Al! You okay?"
"Yeah, fine," the turian grumbled. "I just took a couple rounds on the leg. Keep moving."
The woman ran past Nihlus. "Come on, Sparky, get these people pulled back!" The small shape grabbed Nihlus by the wrist and dragged him toward the gate. "Stop gawking at me and move your ass, soldier ... before we all end up as casualties."
"We need assistance!" A deep, musical male voice shouted.
"More of the big ones coming in from the far end, Shepard!" a woman shouted, sticking her head in the end door. Her long, black hair whipped around her head in the wind. "Leave the wounded. We can take care of them once we get these mechs shut down."
Shepard shook her head. "No, we get the wounded back behind the gate. If we move fast, you can dig in at this end, and I'll make a run for the security building, shut the rest of them down."
The Spectre tried to concentrate on the fast talking, fast moving soldier, but even as she pulled him toward safety, her other hand waved across his vision, directing her people.
"Jack, pick up that rocket launcher and get inside." Nihlus's saviour dropped him behind the gate and ran back in. He pushed himself up, wobbling as he leaned on one elbow, his vision still blurred and shaky.
The soldier … Shepard … her clone or imitation … whatever … popped out of cover and tossed two grenades at the closest YMIR. "Miranda, you go with her. Every time that bastard shifts from bullets to rockets, overload it and then hit it hard and fast with the rockets. Javik. Liara. Al. Stay in cover, try to pull the rest of them to the other end of the yard."
She glanced his way, then looked over at Alenko. "You got this? You can get them out of here?"
The lieutenant commander nodded, looking as dumbstruck as Nihlus felt.
"Good luck." The fake Shepard ran to the gate control. "Vincent, give me cover while I fry this bitch. We need to give Sparky's people a chance to evac." The gate closed, a shower of sparks erupting from the control panel, and she was gone.
Alenko crouched next to Nihlus. "Can you walk with help?" He injected medigel, the shot slowly pushing back the pain and cloudiness. The orange glow appeared above Nihlus again.
"Was that Shepard?" Nihlus asked, wincing at the slur in his voice.
Kaidan shook his head, a helpless sort of shrug answering the Spectre's question. "She's beat to hell, but it looked like her, and she called me Sparky … but hell … . Shepard's dead." He shook his head again, then gave Nihlus another shot. "Okay, come on. We need to get everyone back to the shuttle."
"I've got the bossman," Kasumi said, appearing a couple of metres away. "You help the others."
Nihlus let Alenko help him to his feet, then wrapped an arm around Kasumi's shoulders for the hobbling retreat to the shuttle. As they headed back up the ramp, he kept his eyes on the gate, the emotions and sensations of his dream rising up around him, thick and heady and sweet. He closed his eyes for a moment, just listening to the sounds of battle, that voice calling out orders replete with sweet baby Jesuses and Enkindlers' glowing backsides. Common sense told him clone or duplicate, but somewhere deep in his gut, hope kindled.
Shepard?
§§§
(A-N: So, the Dragon Age and Mass Effect Big Bangs have eaten up my time far more than I anticipated. However, the good news is that although I didn't get an artist in the MEBB, I did get the first five chapters of the Third Act written, so they will be ready to go up when the time comes. So … yeah, finally, a chapter. And it's Chapter 99. Thank you to those who have read and reviewed for the past 98 chapters. :D )