Verro: Husband, male bond-mate.
82 Days ASR
What in the name of the fucking Enkindlers glowing ass cheeks? The darkness deepened behind her eyes; the arctic winter sun setting at noon. Rachni song sparkled on the frosty wind, shivering along the lingering gleam.
Damn it, Amalair! I'm in the middle of a fucking battle. My people are taking fire, and you're really getting to be a pain in the ass with all your metaphysical bullshit. What is it this time?
Bright, musical laughter, chimes on the breeze, trickled over her, gentle fingers trying to pry her from battle and worry. Carried by the rachni queen's laughter, another song appeared and twined through Shepard's thoughts: soft greens and lavender.
Shooting a scowl through the ethereal peace and beauty, she tried to shatter it but failed. Damn it! She didn't have time for a freakin' rachni conference call. "Shiala? Is that you?"
"They are not yet strong. They are precious and must be protected, but they are coming." The asari's reply formed a warm, spectral caress, felt rather than heard. "Lead them wisely."
"Who?" Shepard's demand rang in multicoloured flares, fireworks exploding before reaching their full flight. "Who's coming? Amalair? Shiala? For fuck's sake, someone just give me a straight answer and hang up the damned call."
Instead of a reply, gold threads appeared in the black, weaving between the members of her team, gilt auras wrapping around each. The glittering cocoons shone brighter around those still up and fighting, others less so … two as pale as the night before the new moon. Before she could move to them, a brilliant, crimson flash sparked in the distance, closing quickly. It … no, they … they were aboard the collector vessel, the single light branching into fifteen fiery points as they closed on her position. Rachni? Sweet baby Jesus … rachni? Really?
"Amalair?" She pushed away the new light, gripping tight to each gold thread. "I don't have time to decipher your Sergeant Pepper's Magical Mystery Tour. My people …."
"They are precious, guard them well," Shiala's voice repeated above Amalair's chiming joy.
Hearing that joy, Shepard understood. For the first time in even the queen's memory, the rachni charged into battle as allies rather than enemies. Unable to put how honoured she felt into words, she replied with the brilliant, metallic blue and thundering, choral notes her heart associated with brotherhood.
The gold threads solidified, pushing back the darkness. Her people appeared, all still in their positions: Martin acting as cover for Mordin, Nihlus staring at her, expecting her to move.
Heat sinks. Right.
"Shepard," Cortez called in her ear, "we have an unknown ship approaching the collector ship's hangar."
"It's okay, LT. It's the rachni coming in to assist," she called as she scrambled for the first sink. "Don't fire on them." She scooped up the sink and sprinted for the next, still in a crouch. The image of a blue and gold armoured frog-like critter scuttling from sink to sink flashed through her mind.
Oh, for frick's sake. That's how the rachni see me? Not exactly flattering.
She scuttled to the next heat sink, then the next, cheeks burning inside her helmet.
Note to self: give the rachni some gloriously heroic image to associate with me, regardless of the dignity of what I'm doing.
Rachni warriors raced down the upper level, along the balcony where she'd entered, taking positions in cover. Damn … how was she to command them well when she had almost no idea of their skills? Beating her way through a flood on them on Noveria amounted to the extent of her experience, and she'd spent most of that fight blind thanks to rabid-worker-splat. What had the warriors come at them with? Acid … right, acid that cut through shields and barriers.
"Rachni, stay in cover," she shouted, then realized that she didn't need to. They'd hear her orders inside her head, probably before she thought of them. And, indeed, the eight hunkered down out of the praetorian's fire and began pelting it with bursts of acid that sailed right through its barriers, the metal beneath melting into slag. Plucking up the rest of the heat sinks in a rush, Shepard raced toward Garrus's cover.
"Change of plans." She ducked behind the wall next to Garrus and opened her omnitool to scan her verro: exhaustion, shock, a few holes he hadn't started the day with, but hanging in there. Except, his blood pressure was falling … that meant a bleed. "Alpha and Charlie focus on the smaller units. Once the rachni get the big guy down, they'll block the routes from below with webbing. Give them cover."
"Arate!" Dasik's shout sliced through the room, yanking Shepard's attention from the big picture. Crimson and gold armour raced across the floor, disappearing into the brilliant blue of the praetorian's particle beams. Giran stumbled backwards, reeling from a hearty shove, nearly falling right back into the beam.
Shepard dashed out from behind her knee wall, covering the distance in three strides. Looping an arm around Giran's waist, she dragged the prothean behind Nihlus's cover.
"—at," Nihlus replied. "The big one is going down fast, prepare to cover the rachni."
"Mordin, are you up?" Shepard hollered, all her fear and nerves and frustration igniting into a plan, as bright gold as the rachni queen's webs. Her people … those gilt webs tied them together, and they would get them through everything and anything. She just needed to get back to Garrus's cover.
"Mobile, Shepard," the salarian replied as Shepard dove across the space, dodging from cover to cover. "Can see to wounded."
Shepard sucked in a couple of quick, burning breaths. "Excellent. EDI, as soon as the sides of this room are sealed, get the door open so Mordin can see to Ashley's squad." Shepard tossed her remaining gun hands the sinks, watching how easily they caught them to judge their condition. Jack fumbled but didn't drop hers. Good. She glanced toward Kaidan's position a little further down Garrus's cover. "Sparky, what's your status?"
The LT heaved himself up onto his knees then into a wobbly crouch. "I can help with Ash's wounded."
"So can I," Vincent called from Nihlus's location.
The praetorian went down in a storm of sparks, the acid devouring its internal workings. Before Shepard could do more than let out a relieved sigh, seven tiny rachni workers raced out, spinning webs over the open sections of floor at a mind-boggling speed.
"Opening left hand door," EDI called. "Still registering three life signs within."
"Excellent, EDI. How complete is your control of the computers?" Shepard stood, and hurried over, reaching down to help Kaidan to his feet. "Come on, Sparky."
"Control is ninety-five percent, Shepard," the AI replied. "Collectors on the main terminals still fighting to break through my firewalls. They're holding. Deployment of the high intensity radiation weapon will negate resistance."
"Hey!" The bellow came from Jack. "Won't that kill everyone? There could be thousands of people still alive in this fucking ship. Innocent people!"
"The only human life signs registering on my scans are within your perimeter," EDI replied. "All humans in pods are deceased."
"Killed when collector vessel lost power," Mordin confirmed, helping Martin out of his smashed frame.
Jack hobbled over to the salarian. "But you said that mist inside those fucking pods was proof they were being kept alive." She grabbed Martin, hauling the kid to his feet with Mordin's help. "You said they were being kept alive."
"Jack, it's okay," Shepard said, trying to calm the biotic down before she hurt herself or someone else. "This ship will give us the answers we need to make sure this doesn't happen to anyone else." Looking up, she met Jack's stare, gut untying only once the young woman's fury cooled to determination. "Even though we can't save these people, we'll avenge them and save anyone else from meeting their fate. Okay?"
"No one else goes through this fucking nightmare." Tossing Shepard a determined nod dripping with 'fuck you' attitude, the young biotic accepted Martin's help to limp over and protect the rachni workers. "Let's get the fuck out of here."
"Roger that." Shepard wrapped her arm around Kaidan's waist and helped him to the side door. Eight bodies lay on the deck plating, five of them still wearing helmets. Faint mist drifted from the nose and mouth of the three without, proving Shepard's hypothesis that the ship maintained some atmosphere.
"Here, I'll get Chief Williams's team ready to move, you take care of getting us out of here." Nihlus stepped into Kaidan's other side, relieving her of the LT's weight.
"Cortez, I need you and EDI to find us an exit route. It needs to give both Charlie and our squad the clearest, shortest shot to the shuttle." She poised over the controls for her omnitool, mind racing as she tried to find them a fast, secure way off the damned ship.
"Captain!" Cortez broke through, his voice tight, control wrapped around a core of fear, "the collector vessel just started to power up. We've got twenty minutes before it's at full power."
Shepard spun and strode back into the large chamber, a sharp demand crawling up her throat: how had EDI lost control over the vessel? She stopped part way, crouching next to Garrus, a growing navy stain shining against his metallic blue armour. "You okay, Callor?" She checked his medigel. Out. Fuck a doodle doo. She pulled two injectables out of her pack, stabbing them through his underarmour between plates. "Talk to me, big guy."
"I'll be fine." The slur in his voice tossed her heart up into her throat as it told her quite the opposite ... that he'd lost more blood than showed. He reached up and touched the side of her helmet for a second before the hand dropped back into his lap. She caught his talons in hers and squeezed them, trying to keep her worry hidden. His usually strong, adroit digits trembled even as he reassured her, "I just ... rest a minute."
"Okay, General, let's get you a little help." She looked up, searching for Nihlus, finding him crouched next to Ashley, the chief sitting up her back to the wall. "Nihlus, Garrus is going to need help to get to the shuttle."
A low, harsh chuckle answered her, but not from Nihlus. Grunt left Wrex propped up against the bulkhead, the clan chief bellowing that he just needed food. Large, swaggering steps crossed the floor to stop at Shepard's side, one of Grunt's hands landing on the top of her helmet. "I'll take care of him, Shepard."
She squeezed Garrus's hand. "Hang in there, verro. We're going to have to run like the lightning's chasing us." She slapped Grunt's shoulder. "Take care him, Grunt. Carry him if you have to; just ignore the arguing and get him out of here safely."
Without waiting for the krogan to supply a reassurance she didn't need, Shepard turned her attention to getting her people off the collector vessel post haste. The war effort needed the ship, their scientists needed to be able to take apart the collector technology, so whether or not all three squads made it to the shuttle, the radiation pulse needed to go off. That was priority one, but damn it, she wouldn't let the collectors steal the future Nihlus dreamed for the three of them.
First things first. "EDI, I want all the open areas mapped in red on my HUD. You'll be controlling the doors, the rachni will make sure the collectors can't flank us from above or below again. Cortez, get that shuttle as close as possible."
Shepard opened a channel to Miranda, cutting off the pilot's reply. "Charlie, report in."
"Pulse device is placed and primed, Captain." Miranda hesitated. "We're making our way toward your position, anticipating new extraction route and rendezvous. We've met minimal resistance, so I estimate seven minutes. We'll meet you to help with the wounded, Captain. Over."
That helped settle Shepard's racing heart. They could use the extra hands. Reaching out to Giran, she helped the prothean arate to her feet, trying to judge the extent of her wounds. "Good to hear." As the words came out, she glanced back at Garrus, her husband still half-lying on the floor. "But, if we're not at the rendezvous in time for the Ypres to escape before the collectors reaches full power, leave without us and trigger the pulse."
"Shepar—"
"Just do it, Miranda. No argument. Shepard, out." The words dropped, crashing into that corrupted place with a finality that shut the operative up, and turned every eye to stare at her.
"Guess we'd better get fucking moving," Jack said, striding toward Mordin with purpose despite her limp. "Doc, my leg." When the salarian turned his omnitool on her and pronounced her fit enough, the young biotic demanded a painkiller then set right into work, cursing up a storm and strong-arming the wounded onto their feet. "It's move or die, so get your asses up. I'm not dying in this shithole for you fucking lot."
The rachni workers completed their work, blocking the openings to the lower decks. Instead of moving to the exit, they hurried over to Wrex. Even as the krogan complained and took badly aimed swipes at them, the little fellows wove a tight web around Wrex's leg and arms, binding the broken bones. As soon as they finished their work, the clan chief heaved himself up off the floor, his grumbling taking on a note of approval as the webbing supported him.
"Sixteen minutes," Cortez said, his countdown dropping, a boulder in the ship's eerie silence. And it was silent, the absence of the echoing screams and cries ringing in Shepard's ears.
She ground her teeth and shoved it aside. A quick glance over her shoulder reassured Shepard that her people had the wounded in order. The rachni moved between people, silently binding limbs, making lattice-type crutches, and constructing a basket for Samara, which two warrior rachni suspended between them. Damn, if they weren't going to prove indispensable. How long ago would the reapers have been exterminated if the races befriended the rachni instead of trying to wipe them out?
"Everyone ready to evacuate?" she hollered, just to kill the hush. "Nihlus take point, start them moving. I'll walk drag." Shepard crouched next to Dasik, scanning the prothean. Dead. Damn. Another set of armour lay jumbled beneath Dasik's corpse. Javik! Fuck! She scanned the prothean commander. Had he too charged in to save Giran?
"I need help over here," she called, discovering faint lifesigns. Glancing up when Kaidan's feet landed beside her, she saw that Vincent had taken care of Sparky's mobility. Shepard rolled Dasik's body off Javik's, giving Kaidan room to help.
"He's in bad shape, Shepard," Kaidan said, shaking his head. "We …."
"I can't … " Ashley's voice broke through the channel. "I can't leave them." The futile, and time consuming, sound of scuffling grabbed Shepard by the scruff and yanked her the handful of metres into the side room where Ash battled Mordin and Nihlus. The second she saw Shepard, the chief's panicked stare locked on. "Captain, we can't leave them. They're my people, and I dragged them here … thought I could capture the vessel." Rallying her strength, she shoved Mordin aside and climbed hand over hand up Nihlus's arm. "They're my responsibility."
Shepard ran over and slung an arm around Ashley's back. Looking over the chief's shoulder, Shepard gave Mordin a nod. "We're taking too damned long. Come on, people." Damn it. Damn it. "Leave the dead." She turned from Ashley's distraught protests. "Just grab the wounded and run. Jack … Kaidan, if you can hold a barrier around us, so much the better."
"On it." Jack closed her eyes and lifted her hands, a dome of shimmering blue appearing around those already gathered at the door.
"I can help hold it," Sparky replied, leaning heavily on Vincent, "but I'll need someone to be my legs."
Vincent just chuckled as he lifted Kaidan, cradling the LT in his beefy arms. "Not even a challenge, Alenko."
Shepard's distraction worked, Mordin able to slip in and give Ashley a heavy dose of painkillers. The chief sagged in Shepard's arms, sedated. Mordin and Nihlus helped Shepard lift the larger woman into a fireman's carry before turning to help the rest of the wounded.
"All right, people ... run for it. Rachni workers, stay safe. Rachni warriors, keep behind our gun hands and inside our barriers, but feel free to shoot at anything that comes along." Shepard boosted Ash a little further up her shoulders, then bolted for the door. She didn't know if she could keep up carrying the chief's weight, but she needed to try. "EDI, open the doors right before we get there, and close them right behind."
"Understood."
"Everyone, out front. I'll bring up drag." Shepard herded them out the door, racing after them, no more easy jogs or time to examine curiosities or horrors. All that mattered to Shepard was balancing Ash's weight and keeping air flowing in and out of her lungs. The rachni workers scuttled over Jack and Kaidan's barrier, weaving a web of physical protection over the energy.
Amalair, if I ever bark at you for singing your riddles, remind me of this moment. You've saved our asses.
Rainbow coloured laughter tickled like soda bubbles along Shepard's entire nervous system, and for a moment, Ashley and her heavy armour didn't hang quite so heavy. The effect lasted a tragically short span before a wildfire ignited between muscle fibers in Shepard's thighs. The flames consumed the last drops of fuel rattling around at the bottom of her tank, then started sucking fumes. The muscles that burned began to tremble, the fire leaving the fibres ashen.
"Twelve minutes," Cortez reported. "The shuttle is as close as I can get it." The marker blinked on Shepard's HUD.
"We're moving faster than I expected," she said, wheezing between the words. One step, then the next, her feet beginning to slap the floor, hard and flat-footed. Between EDI on the doors and the rachni workers sealing all the open spaces with their webbing, they moved through relatively unmolested. When a few husks broke through, dashing up a long ramp, the rachni took them down before Shepard could balance Ash and aim her side arm.
Damn, if this isn't the way to attack an enemy ship.
By the time she caught sight of the shuttle just outside a door, the portal half-closed and stuck in collector gunk, Shepard couldn't think further ahead than the next step. Legs weighing a hundred kilos each, she hauled them forward, pain searing up through the nerves every time her foot hit the ground.
A brilliant flare of light yanked her stare from the promising hull of their shuttle to a suspended, glowing form of a collector … one of the bigger ones. Magma seemed to burst through cracks in the creature's carapace like the swarm on the Cerberus base. Damn, she didn't even have the faintest clue what to expect from a possessed collector. Of course, not knowing what to expect sometimes presented opportunities.
All right, Harbinger, you bastard, bring it.
Which, of course he did, a roaring ball of fire incinerating the thin air around it as it spun toward them.
"Really? Fireballs?" Tossing aside the litany of foul words that tumbled into her mouth in favour of air, Shepard launched Droney and dug in, forcing her legs to move faster.
"Jesus fuck!" Jack shouted as the thing impacted the barrier, all the rachni webbing protecting the outside bursting into flame before crumbling.
Despite wanting to scream out a mate for Jack's swear, Shepard raced through her menu of more responsible options. Almost all of her gun hands carried wounded. "Rachni … stay inside the barrier, but do what you can to take that bastard down." Thanking the sweet baby Jesus that their acid ignored barriers, she focused back on the shuttle, still so impossibly distant.
A door opened on the right hand wall, Miranda's team racing through. In the lead, Thane paused for half a breath before turning and running toward them. Ducking a little as he broke through the barrier, the drell wove through the running wounded, setting pace beside Shepard.
"Give her to me," he ordered, his rolling, deep voice making it sound like the sweetest of pillow talk, a tender request she couldn't possibly refuse.
What? Dear God, she must have jumped all the way past exhausted, diving through loopy to splash down in hallucinating. The moment Thane lifted Ashley from Shepard's shoulders, the captain snatched her side arm from her hip and strode through the barrier.
Yes! Gun in hand, drone and turret launched, make way for hurricane Shepard! I'll show you fireballs, bastard.
Across the chamber, Harbinger-not-Harbinger strode out of a small squad of collectors and shot off what looked like a ball of black flame torn straight out of hell. Shepard tucked her shoulder and rolled under it, staggering to her feet with all the grace of a drunken elcor.
As one of the rachni globs of acid struck the glowing collector, the thing surrendered to the fire within, crumbling to ash that drifted away on the air currents. Before Shepard could celebrate another collector lifted into the air, their skin breaking open with the force of the reaper's possession.
"Take out the regular collectors first!" she called. Glancing back, she saw that the rachni warriors had handed their burdens off to Miranda's team and followed her through the barrier, arranged in a phalanx with her at its head.
"Fuck, yeah! Where in the fuck are the photographers from Badass Weekly when you need them?" Jack crowed, running up to take the captain's four.
Shepard glanced over her raised arm between shots to toss a wide grin at the biotic. "Right? I'll never look more badass." Her steps came stronger, steadying as she angled toward the shuttle, keeping her impromptu squad between the collectors and the wounded.
"Unless you kill a reaper with your bare hands and stand on top of its two-kilometre-tall corpse," Nihlus agreed, stepping in at her eight.
"In the Rosie the Riveter pose," Shepard said, a pointed laugh lancing the air as she imagined her tiny speck self trying to look cool, lost in the mass of a reaper.
"Seven minutes until collector vessel reaches full power," EDI announced, completely killing the moment.
Still, looking far more badass than any of them could reasonably hope to look again, they cut through the remaining collectors, then focused on Harbinger. Soaking up the fire from all eleven of them, the possessed avatar disappeared into ash before Shepard could get more than two shots off.
"Make room on the shuttle!" Shepard called, turning and running for the hatch. "It's going to be a tight fit!" However, instead of heading for the shuttle, the rachni scurried to a door and through. Shepard hesitated, one foot on the shuttle floor, her hand gripping the frame. "Signal when you're clear!" They didn't respond, but she assumed Amalair or Shiala would send her something.
She hopped up, the last in, and pulled the hatch closed. "We're all in. Let's get the hell out of here."
Miranda grabbed Shepard's wrist as the captain shuffled past, her entire being focused on where Garrus slumped in a corner seat. The operative pressed the remote trigger for the radiation device into Shepard's palm. Nodding, she accepted it and the possible burden of killing their rachni allies.
Forgive me if I haven't led them as you expected.
Sitting on the floor, Shepard tucked her knees up into her chest and closed her fingers around Garrus's talons. No call came from Shiala when EDI called out a minute and then thirty seconds. Offering another mental apology to Amalair, Shepard entered the command, sending a blast of flesh melting radiation searing through the collector vessel.
"Radiation pulse successful, Shepard," EDI reported. The AI's usual, unflappable calm had the unusual effect of making Shepard want to slap her hologram. "No life signs registering aboard the collector vessel."
"Thank you, EDI," Shepard said, finally unclenching her jaw and letting out a long breath. She sagged into the space between Garrus's leg and the bulkhead, scooting over a bit to make room for Nihlus. "Anything from the rachni ship? Any sign?"
"That's a negative, Captain," Cortez said, "but we registered a blue shift just prior to the pulse. Unless a stealth ship was hiding in the system, it must have been the rachni."
"EDI, when you can get a clear scan, check for the rachni vessel." Looking up, she met Garrus's unsteady gaze. Worry pressed a heavy hand down onto her heart, making it hard to breathe: he looked shocky. She stripped off his gauntlets to rub his hands and wrists. "You hanging in there, big guy?"
He nodded, even as his eyes sagged closed, his head tipping to one side. "Remember when I said I wanted us to spend some intimate time together?"
Shepard chuckled and squeezed his hand, her fingertips sliding under his glove to make sure his skin remained warm. Sleepiness, slurred speech, lack of coordination, and clammy hide topped the list of turian shock symptoms. Four for four. Not good.
Damn. "What?" She turned up the heater in his armour then pressed her palm against his cheek. "Sitting crushed together in the corner of the shuttle wasn't what you had planned?"
"Docking with the Ypres, Captain," Miranda called back from the cockpit, cutting off Garrus's reply. "The doctors have several stretchers prepared and waiting."
Shepard held her breath until the shuttle hard docked on the Ypres, the metallic thump travelling through the deck plating and into her bones. Scrambling to her feet, careful not to step on anyone, she stretched, then reached to help Garrus up.
"Come on, verro, let's get some blood flowing through those veins." Shepard wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders while Nihlus hooked a hand under his other arm. Together, they lifted, both grunting when the general couldn't muster enough strength to stand.
"Well," Shepard said between groans, "we now have proof-positive that turians aren't stuffed with feathers."
Nihlus glanced around the cowl of Garrus's armour. "Hauling me off the floor in the head didn't amount to proof?" His mandibles flicked as he shook his head, his outward cheer made into a lie by the worry in his eyes.
"Maybe turians get lighter as they age?" Shepard shot back. She grinned, holding up her end of the joke as they helped Garrus take slow steps toward the hatch. Luckily, both for her verro and her shaking legs, Chakwas met them at the hatch, stretcher set up along the lip.
"Can you sit on the side, love?" she asked, guiding him into a turn. He hesitated, swaying and unsteady, his arm gripping her against his side hard enough that a low subvocal was all she needed to understand his fear. "Karin, can you and Grunt hold the stretcher tight against the side so it doesn't move?"
"Of course, Shepard," Chakwas replied, waving Grunt over to help.
Garrus looked down into Shepard's eyes, a low susurrous of gratitude and love whispering through his second larynx.
She pressed her lips together in a tight smile and tipped her head at the gurney. "Come on, husband, let's get you upstairs." After helping him sit, she left Nihlus to balance him while she lifted his legs. Only a few, clotting drops of blood dripped from his boot … where the hell had all of it gone?
Orange light reflected off his armour as Chakwas scanned him. "Internal bleeding. We need to get him straight to surgery." She stepped between Shepard and the gurney. "I'll call you when he's in recovery, Captain."
Despite already suspecting the diagnosis, Shepard's heart skipped two beats. She ran alongside for a couple of steps, clinging to Garrus's talons, releasing him at the elevator. "I'll get the geth sorted to take the collector ship to Ploba and be there when the doctors get you all patched up," she promised, holding his stare. "I love you, General." She followed the words with a wink and backed away from the door.
"I'll have him right as rain in an hour, Captain," Chakwas assured her. "I'll keep you apprised."
"Thanks, Doc." Shepard watched the elevator close then turned to see to her people. They'd captured themselves a collector vessel. She needed to make sure they kept it.
(A-N: Luckily for the fanfic and not at all for me ... my copy of Andromeda doesn't show up until the 30th, at least. I'm still focusing on FI for now, so sorry if you're reading the fics I'm not updating, but so much of my blood has gone into this puppy. :D I'll get back to the others in April. Hugs and assorted sweets. Thanks as always for your support.)