Dawn of Titans

by F13D

There is nothing fair, just, or honorable about war. There is only winning and losing, the living and the dead. Humanity has learned this truth and has ascended to the stars. What effect will this have on the rest of the galaxy, one that has experienced millennia of peace? Will it be able to maintain the peace or will it be ushered into a new age of war? Let the end begin. A/U

35. Chapter 35 - The Beginning

9-23-2175, 2400 hours (Alliance standard time)

Spaedar Outskirts

Taetrus

SPECTRESPECTRE T7

Concealed by the shield of the jungle's flora and the heavy rainstorm, newly inducted SPECTRE Nihlus Kryik stalked his prey. Reaching his destination, Nihlus knelt before equipping his thermal imaging binoculars. At this range his helmet would have difficulty providing clear images. He stared through the hammering rain towards the steel-alloy bunker at the end of the bridge and mentally counted the number of enemies he could see, making out only a small fireteam of separatists. His delight was equaled by his disappointment in the separatists' seeming awareness. They had no overwatch tower, no marksmen, and only token fortifications. While it made his job easier, Nihlus was still flabbergasted by their lack of discipline. Perhaps that was the cost of secession, or rather attempted secession, from the Hierarchy; a loss of purpose to something greater than the interest of a single being. Where the history of the Hierarchy stretched back ten thousand years and would continue to thrive for another ten thousand, the history of the separatists before him would come to an end by his hands.

He kept watch as the rainfall swept downwards, noting as individuals and teams grew weary of the downpour showed no signs of relenting. It was another sign of their incompetence, but not the last he was certain.

Using their ennui, Nihlus came even closer to the bunker, enough for his equipment to overhear their conversation. With the rain's ferocity increasing, the turians had sought shelter within the lee of the bunker's armored door, playing card games and drinking. By this point, they had abandoned their previous positions and perhaps their only chance, slim it may have been, of spotting the SPECTRE of death looming ever closer. It was such unforgivable stupidity; it took discipline for Nihlus to avoid getting up and throwing a frag grenade towards their positions and gunning down any survivors.

'By the Spirits they can't be turians,' He thought.

The hissing of the cold water falling through the canopy of thick, drooping fronds and colliding with giant boulders were enough to muffle all noise, Nihlus could easily have sprinted towards his objective and still remained undetected. He unsheathed a turian style knife, while a primitive and outdated relic from ancient wars, stealth was his ally, and the glare of his omni-tool could possibly reveal his position.

Nihlus guessed the visibility of the guards was cut to less than ten meters, much less for those drinking away what pitiful discipline they'd maintained. With his armor, Nihlus's visibility was far superior to any normal turian in this situation. He held neither joy nor remorse for the grim task ahead of him; joy would lead down a dark path away from the ideals of the Hierarchy while remorse would dull his ability to protect the foundations of his people. These turians had made their choice knowing full well the potential consequences, and now they would pay the price for it.

As he had expected, the guards complained to each other of their current assignments and officers. Nihlus nearly scoffed at their complaints. Seeing as how they were incapable of even maintaining proper guarding positions for the bunker they resided in, how could any turian place any form of trust in these idiots to accomplish more complicated tasks?

Once he reached the optimal spot to begin his predations, Nihlus relaxed his muscles for the oncoming strike. The HUD in his helmet blinked twice, indicating Saren and the other forces were in position. Nihlus sent his acknowledgement in the same manner. He waited until the first guard stepped outside, before yanking the guard out of sight and hammering the blade through the base of his skull. The kinetic barrier gave out under the oversized mass of his blade, the first target dying without a sound.

Dropping the carcass, Nihlus entered the bunker and drove his blade into the mouth of the second guard. No noise escaped from the covered entrance as blood sprayed from the turian guard. A third guard happened to come across the scene, but Nihlus was the first to react, lunging forwards and smashing his fist into the face of his foe. He dodged a thrust from the guard's omni-tool, side-stepping to knock the feet out from under the guard, and leaping on top. He activated his own omni-tool before thrusting it deep into the guard's spine. This time Nihlus couldn't stifle the screams from the guard, calling towards his sole remaining compatriot for assistance that would be too late.

The last guard arrived with his Phaeston raised, Nihlus had to swing towards one side as the rounds meant for him instead collided with the guard in his grasp. The mistake of unintentionally killing his ally caused the last guard to be stunned for a moment, long enough for Nihlus counter-attack. Grabbing the rifle of the turian he'd just killed, Nihlus fired a concussive shot that staggered the guard. Not knowing whether the blast had been enough to have drained the shields, the SPECTRE equipped his pistol to unload another concussion blast before unloading a full thermal clip from his seized rifle and personally owned pistol. It may have been a bit overkill, Nihlus thought, but the four sentries in his wake had died from complacency and he was not going to repeat their mistakes.

Standing up, Nihlus remained in a defensive stance until his scans had detected no other life signs outside the bunker. The chronometer in his helmet had indicated it had taken a minute and a half for the position to be secured.

'Not bad for a lone SPECTRE,' Nihlus thought.

He glanced quickly around the bunker and realized his initial judgment of the sentries might have been harsh as he saw sandbagged positions fixed with heavy weaponry and overlapping fields of fire. He counted a total of five heavy machine gun turrets with a respectable number of rockets and missiles. The rain and jungle had covered his stealthy approach to the bunker, however Nihlus now realized why Saren had only assigned a single SPECTRE to take out each bunker as there was nothing else but exposed terrain.

"Position secured," he whispered into the encrypted com, removing his share of shaped charges. He worked methodically, placing each charge around the locking gears of the bunker's door.

"Confirmed," Saren acknowledged. "Good work, Nihlus. The rest of the team is in position, we go on your signal."

Nihlus grinned and stepped around to the front of the bunker, keeping below the firing slits as the cowering separatists remained. He drew his M-6 Carnifex and readied his omni-blade and himself for action ahead. Seconds later he detonated the charges.

The door blasted inwards, ripped from its frame by the powerful explosion. Choking smoke billowed outwards and Nihlus was in motion before the concussive blast had faded. He heard the crack of rifle fire, the distinct sound of Phaestons from other parts of the jungle bringing a smile to his face. By now entire platoons of Facinus separatists would be wiped out through the experience of the Council's elite. Of course, one detonation stood out, it's blasts greater by magnitudes and already Nihlus could easily guess whose assigned bunker that was.

Motinn Dozz, the team's demolitions expert was not something Nihlus had expected from a former STG operative; he seemed far too loud for a service dedicated to espionage. Regardless, Nihlus focused on his task, diving through the blackened doorway. He rolled to a crouched firing position, limiting his exposure to incoming fire while maximizing his accuracy. His swept his Carnifex left to right, shooting at silhouettes with precise fire. He saw two heads jerk backwards before they exploded. Another Facinus soldier was on his knees, screaming as blood flooded his ruined body. His torso had been severed at the waist while razor-edged metal studded his entire body. Nihlus fired off a single shot to end his suffering. Slugs from incoming rounds began to impact Nihlus's armor, and he twisted firing in the direction the shots had come from. His rounds hammered a soldier's knee, shattering the joint entirely. The turian shrieked and fell, losing the grip on his weapon.

The remainder of the bunker's complement were now firing in coordinated attacks. Slugs pinged off of rapid-recharge shields as Nihlus delivered crippling strikes to the enemy from his Carnifex. He saw the merchant's claim of 'bringing down a krogan' was not exaggerated. The only liability he disliked with the weapon was its low storage capacity and Nihlus made a mental note to modify it accordingly.

In an attempt to break the enemy's coordination, Nihlus took a play from Dozz's notebook and began hurling grenades towards groups of enemies. The unfortunate ones near fuel supplies were incinerated in gruesome fashion, but served to distract the rest from their former organized defense. Re-equipping to match the current scenario, Nihlus brought forth his Daedalos Assault shotgun.

Designed by Armax Arsenal at the request of the Hierarchy, the weapon was created to give military forces a powerful and versatile close combat weapon, able to engage targets both near and far. Named in honor of the turian spirit of balance, this shotgun had a unique rifling design capable of expanding or narrowing the weapon's barrel without the use of a smart choke, giving the Daedalos incredible accuracy on demand. In order to avoid damaging the barrel mechanism under prolonged use, the weapon was often kept in a relaxed state unless required to hit a target at long range. Due to its excellent use in urban warfare, it was often found in the hands of Hastatim squads. Now Nihlus prayed to Daedalos for excellent aim.

He shouldered the combat shotgun and rose from cover the moment the Facinus ejected a heat sink, why they didn't bother to stagger reloading as many had been trained Nihlus could not guess, but it offered him an advantage. Within two seconds he shot down a soldier while a concussive blast blew apart another. The SPECTRE blasted at a charging turian, presumably he was out of ammo while the remaining two followed their dead leader's example. Nihlus quickly attempted to eject the wasted heat sink, but was not quick enough as the last two Facinus soldiers collided with him.

Unable to bring his guns to bear, Nihlus fell back to his old training. He spun, twisted, kicked, and struck with lethal ferocity. Where-ever he struck resulted in broken bones or gushes of blood as his omni-blade sliced through flesh. Nihlus was not free from harm however, an omni-blade struck his thigh. It was not a fatal blow so long as he received medical care, however he let out a hiss of pain before taking advantage of the soldier's mistake.

"Should have aimed for the head buddy," Nihlus said before stabbing his omni-blade into the crest of the crouched turian.

The remaining one apparently took his advice as an omni-blade pierced through the thin metal walls where his head once stood. Nihlus quickly exploited the opening as he stabbed through the armpit of the Facinus soldier with all the strength he had. He shifted the swing upwards, slicing off the entire arm. The Facinus sentry howled in pain, clutching his shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Free from any viable threat, Nihlus aimed his shotgun at the center of the enemy's mass and fired two shots before the soldier finally met his end. His helmet filtered the stench of battle while dried Facinus blood stained his shoulders and breast plate. Applying a dose of medi-gel, Nihlus took care of his wounds – until the medic could do a proper job of it. For a moment all was quiet inside the bunker.

Outside he heard the sounds of gunfire and heavy fighting; as a proud and honorable turian, Nihlus made his way towards the next sector of heavy fighting. He simply had no intention of resting as others continued to fight. It took minutes with all the chaos surrounding the area, but it felt much longer for Nihlus as he reached the next bunker. He ducked as stray gunfire managed rake his area, mere coincidence rather than actual intention. He glanced up, suppressing the urge to cheer, witnessing the effects of true turian discipline. He watched in pride as turian Havoc squads joined the fighting with their jump thrusters, landing on top of the bunker like flaming specters of death. Their lethality was absolute, rifles, missiles, and dual omni-blades delivering death upon their enemies.

The first few gun emplacements were in shambles, steel plate covers shredded as undisciplined Facinus troops fell in the face of the onslaught. As to be expected, the poorly trained – and poorly led in Nihlus's eyes – broke in the face of such punishment, but there was no respite as the Havocs continued their relentless assault. The oncoming troopers did not pause, hacking the enemy down with their omni-blades with giant disemboweling strokes whenever they came within range, terrifying the rest of the Facinus infantry.

The joint chatter of massed fire echoed from the sides of the gorge, explosions of dirt and flora rippling from the slug-riddled covers of what Nihlus believed to be the fourth gun emplacement. Utilizing the helmet's advanced features, Nihlus zoomed in on the enemy's position. Even under the constant volley, his helmet was able to provide the intelligence he desired. Already he could see the separatists inside realigning their heavy turrets. Quickly, he delivered a warning on the general frequency.

"Nihlus to all troops, the fourth gun placement is re-siting its weapons. Heavy fire danger close, repeat heavy fire danger close!"

All four lights indicating each SPECTRE blinked green, indicating they had received warning. However, it wasn't just them he was trying to warn. Upon hearing his warning, he had expected the Havoc troops to maneuver away from immediate danger. Possibly using missiles and grenades to provide cover while retreating in good order. But their actions drew a shocked reaction, both from the SPECTRE and the Facinus rebels.

While the Havocs did make use of missiles and grenades to cover their movements, it was not done so to cover a withdrawal, but to cover their advance. Nihlus watched as their captain barked a command and began sprinting towards the gun position, nearly stunning the SPECTRE and paralyzing the enemy with a vicious war cry – Nihlus lowered the volume on that specific channel. The captain charged at the head of the enemy squad and, Nihlus could have sworn, in complete madness. Without proper support the assault squad would be prime and easy targets. In vain, Nihlus scrambled to try covering the Havocs' advance firing with his Phaeston. As suspected, the enemy was too focused at the charging menace in front of them to be concerned by inaccurate fire of a lone SPECTRE, assuming they were even aware of it.

Bursts of fire erupted from the enemy turrets, reaching out towards the charging Havocs. Nihlus could easily see the rounds' impact, shields flickering as a result, but surprisingly not a single turian fell. As the gap closed, the Havocs triggered their individual jump thrusters, streaking forward high into the night.

Gunfire filled the air, but the Havocs proved to be too quick for the enemy. Missiles fired into the open slits, shots with low odds of success, but many managed to strike true as if guided by the spirits themselves. They erupted inside, blasted apart any enemy within. Another volley was fired soon after, this one aimed at the roof of the bunker, greatly weakening its integrity. However, as it was to be expected, it was the arrival of Dozz that truly delivered the crushing blow, his explosives blasting gaps wide enough for a tank to drive through.

The rest of the SPECTREs followed closed behind joining the fray with more reserved caution than the Havocs, with the exception of Dozz. It seemed the Facinus troops realized their demise the moment the Havocs smashed through the torn roof of the bunker, the imperial turian war anthem coming through the radio frequencies in full chorus. The Havocs erupted into close quarters combat as rifles were rendered useless in the confined space, decapitating or dismembering rebel troops. Modified heavy pistols and shotguns reigned supreme as their power quickly depleted shields and kinetic barriers, ripping through exposed flesh. Heavy armor provided protective measures, however too few Facinus rebels carried such a luxury and were quickly disposed of by the elite coordination of the Havocs.

Nihlus had reached the first sandbagged position, an indicator of the poor supply chains of the Facinus. He leapt feet first, knocking an enemy soldier back. Based on the building aura, Nihlus guessed this one to have been a biotic. He lashed out with his augmented omni-tool, feeling the resistance of armor and flesh giving way to repeated thrusts. He struck again at any enemy within his grasp, hearing rebels die screaming. The sound of gunshots were deafening this close up, even with his helmet protecting his head; he was thankful for the protection several Facinus troops did not enjoy.

Nihlus felt a shot impact his shoulder, the round bursting atop his shields. He turned and fired a shotgun blast towards his attacker's face, destroying it. In his adrenaline-fueled state the SPECTRE's senses had exponentially increased, allowing him to survive where others would have fallen. He sensed movement near him and spun, pistol raised in one hand while the other held his shotgun. Maerun stood before him, hands raised in the air with a broad grin on his face.

Nihlus exhaled slowly and lowered his weapon, already knowing what was coming next. Maerun slapped his hands on Nihlus' shoulder plates.

"Easy now, Rookie. Battle's over," he laughed. Like everyone else, his armor was camouflaged to match the terrain. Prior to insertion, everyone's original color scheme had been swapped out and replaced with the pattern of the jungle they now found themselves in.

Maerun's grizzled face was covered with paint schemes, which allowed him to blend with the environment like a Terran chameleon. Even his green eyes seemed to be at home with the environment, though Nihlus couldn't see the point given Maerun's inability to never be quiet for more than two minutes and ten seconds. Nihlus knew that for a fact because he had secretly timed the other turian SPECTRE over one hundred thirty-two times. It unnerved him how Maerun silence lasted precisely that long that Nihlus had nearly asked him if he had a timer for exactly that reason. Even Dozz was quieter than Maerun, unless someone were to question the salarian SPECTRE on explosives in which case an entire day was lost. Nihlus had made that mistake on his third day and had remained awake for twenty-nine hours.

Nihlus shelved the thought, grimacing. "Yeah. There was room for improvement, though. Our strategy is clear; the proper course in taking out a fortified position should have required a tank, artillery, or an airstrike. Charging the gun-nest goes against every principle in turian warfare."

"Perhaps," Maerun agreed. "But in such a situation with that type of support unable to assist, assaulting the position before the Facinus could radio a warning does seem sound."

"We had heavy weapons with us." Nihlus countered. "Jamming their communications system would have been trivial in comparison, followed by blasting them apart from cover. The enemy troops sited these gun positions poorly and would not have been able to target us on their right flank. Basic strategy –"

"You mean turian strategy," Saren intertrrupted.

"Sir," Nihlus said, instantly straightening his spine and offering a salute.

A smile appeared on Maerun's face, but Nihlus ignored him. He was more concerned with Saren's reaction who appeared more confused than anything else, which did not ease the rookie SPECTRE.

"Uh … Nihlus what are you doing?" Saren asked.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Nihlus continued, "Sir, turian –"

Saren held up a hand, pausing Nihlus, and gestured for him to follow. Saren led him from the bunker. "Nihlus, you know I respect you, and despite what others say, I believe you will soon command your own team of SPECTREs. Unless, of course, you prefer to strike out on your own. But you must accept that as a SPECTRE, the rules of war are different than those of conventional warfare. Turian orthodox strategy no longer applies then. Yes, the Hierarchy teaches us the way of war, and because of it we managed to beat back the Krogan and earned a Council seat, but you need to understand an old human idiom."

"That being?" Nihlus asked

"He who doesn't have a dog, hunts with a cat."

Nihlus stared blankly, wondering if Saren was messing with him. "With all due respect, I have absolutely no idea what you just said. I don't know what a terran dog has to do with a cat and how not having a dog means you hunt with a cat. Pretty sure dogs hunts cats."

Saren just sighed. He didn't blame the younger turian for his ignorance; the idiom barely made sense to him now much less when Captain Anderson had explained it. "It's not the idiom itself that matters so much as the meaning behind it."

Again Nihlus simply stared at Saren with a deadpan expression. "There's supposed to be a meaning? How can anyone derive logic from those words much less a meaning?"

"The idiom means you make the most of what you have. In other, more sensible words, you do your best with what resources you have. Sure, all your suggestions are valid, but what of the potential losses exposed to the very things you suggested?"

"What risk is there to our artillery?" Nihlus asked.

"Letting the Facinus know we have it in the first place. Potentially exposing the location of them in the second. For every action we take, Nihlus there will always be a consequence. Never forget that."

Nihlus fell silent for a moment, contemplating. Putting aside the nonsensical human phrases that seemed devoid of reasoning, Saren's words did have merit to them. Had the Havocs failed to take the gun emplacements, their distraction would have been perfect for the SPECTREs to take advantage and silenced them before the reinforcements arrived.

"Tell me truthfully, do the consequences ever makes you doubt the decision to become a SPECTRE?" Nihlus asked.

Saren exhaled, remembering all the difficult decisions he had to make over the course of his career as a SPECTRE. "Yes, Nihlus. The hard decisions to sacrifice a thousand innocent lives to save millions more is a weight on my shoulders that can never be released, but when you realize you are all that stands between peace and the horrors the galaxy offers, you realize how true it is for a turian to accept. The needs of the group –"

"Outweigh those of the individual," Nihlus finished. He scowled again, but only a little. "Being a monster to save those that do not understand why there must be monsters."

Saren gave a nod. "Indeed. Now I hope you understand."

"I do, but I did not expect Hierarchy troops to make similar decisions."

Saren laughed. "These aren't just regular Hierarchy troops. And neither is General Victus. He is the closest the Hierarchy has to a SPECTRE General, and given his unorthodox methods, it's probably why the Hierarchy sent him here."

"I don't think having infantry troops charge a gun emplacement qualifies as just 'unorthodox'. I'm surprised he can retain his command as long as he has."

"Well remember, for all his flaws General Victus is quite possibly the most loved turian General of our time." Saren checked his omni-tool, smiling.

"Because he gets the job done?" Nihlus asked.

Saren shook his head. "No, because he makes sure no turian life is ever wasted. Besides, if he were to have ordered to you to charge the emplacements would you have done it?"

He gave a smile. "I seem to recall the Havocs troops singing 'Die for the Cause'."

Saren laughed. "I'll make a SPECTRE out of you yet, Nihlus. Come, we have work to do. Our contact is set to arrive shortly and this bridge isn't going to hold itself." Saren peered over the edge at the bottomless pit covered by the darkness by the night sky. "Or blow itself up either."

"Is Dozz in charge of that?"

Saren turned to face Nihlus. "Is there anyone else perfect for the job?"

"Perhaps not, but I can think of plenty of people far more stable for it."

The SPECTREs and Havocs undertook preparations, working for hours with little to no breaks while fortifying their positions. As the assault troopers secured bridge, the rest of the turian detachment reinforcements for the vanguard arrived. Two entire platoons of Blackwatch bolstered the Havocs and SPECTREs, readying defenses. A squad occupied the previously vacant bunker at both ends of the bridge while Nihlus organized the third bunker, replacing damaged turrets with new ones brought in by the reinforcements. He made sure to ordered the turians to calibrate the sights – he did not want to repeat the Facinus' mistakes. He double-checked to make sure the turrets had over-lapping fields of fire over the crossing, protecting the laborers as they rebuilt and strengthened their defenses. But the reinforcements also came with a surprise guest.

General Victus himself had arrived to oversee the preparations. Nihlus could feel the effects the presence Victus had as the atmosphere transformed from one of mere duty to one of rare privilege. Alongside him were two platoons of Maceo Infantry Fighting Vehicles and three Tyrus Main Battle Tanks. Nihlus was grateful for the extra firepower; they would need it in the incoming battle. He watched as the General approached him, unconsciously tensing his body to pay proper respect.

"General Victus, sir!" Nihlus gave a salute. Despite his conversation with Saren, he found it hard to kick old habits. A decade of training had become second nature as had paying proper respect to superiors, even if no longer part of the turian military.

"At ease, SPECTRE," Victus said, returning the salute. "You have my thanks."

The appreciation caught Nihlus off-guard, however he did not show it. Such gratitude from a General was nearly unheard off, often it was enlisted soldiers and officers who thanked their superiors. "For what … sir?"

"For your warning. You saved the lives of many good turians."

"I merely relayed vital combat information as any turian would have."

Victus gave a nod. "But you aren't just any turian anymore. You're a SPECTRE and SPECTREs play by a different set of rules. Others would have used the distraction of my troops to break into the bunker to avoid detection."

Nihlus looked at the General in the eyes. "I would like to avoid doing such things where I can."

"That's good. Never sacrifice what gives you strength, but do not let it weigh you down."

Once again Nihlus contemplated words of wisdom from yet another grizzled veteran. He wondered what daunting decisions he would have to make in the future. Prior to becoming a SPECTRE, things appeared to be simpler. Allies and enemies were easier to distinguish by the uniform they wore, but now? Perhaps joining the SPECTRE's hadn't been the best idea.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have defenses to manage," Victus gave a courteous nod, leaving the SPECTRE to his thoughts.

Nihlus watched as Victus deployed scouts into the hills on the far side of the ridge above the gorge. Unlike the Facinus, the Hierarchy would not make the same mistake twice. Should the Facinus launch a counter-attack, and they would according to Victus, the 29th Legion would be prepared.

Nihlus stepped over a dead rebel, noting with grim pride the punctured hole in the center of his forehead. Such was the cost of rebelling against the Hierarchy. The 29th here had been absurdly simple, not even earning the right of calling it a struggle much less a battle. Nihlus allowed himself to feel a little pleasure of their success, but it soon became hollow. Against such poorly trained opposition it felt closer to a waste of his skills, and potentially, the lives of any loyal turian that should fall on this planet simply because the Facinus held delusional dreams of seceding from the Hierarchy.

His eyes were drawn to the bottomless pit of darkness beneath the bridge. For hundreds of meters the expanse of darkness ended with the contours of smooth and jagged rocks. The bridge was the key to the whole campaign of retaking the island-continent of Eluria. The other major cities Vallum, Iratiana, Spaedar, and Madra remained in rebel control. For now.

The legion's right flank was exposed by the elevated terrain to which the bridge connected. Artillery, mortars, and aircraft could rearm, refuel, and bombard the advancing Hierarchy forces with impunity. It was by mere chance the SPECTREs' contact was set to arrive on the bridge within a few hours and it benefited both sides to consolidate the team here. Stealth Stormer shuttles had inserted the SPECTREs and the assault teams under the cover of darkness, thirty kilometers away from the bridges. Only once their contact arrived could the SPECTREs signal a Stormer shuttle to extract them, but being SPECTREs, Nihlus didn't think anyone would leave the small contingent of turian soldiers to face the incoming counter-attack alone.

Once more his eyes scanned the far hills, he'd witnessed how other races dealt poorly in long-distance vision, and wished for a brief moment their foes were aliens. The Facinus' held the defensive advantage, their strongholds and fortresses built to the same high standards of any Hierarchy legion even if their troops may not have been. There was also the critically important infrastructure such as the Spaedar Spaceport and Kasatum Fortress, fortified beyond military specifications. What made matters more difficult was the fact that most turian citizens living on the continent were sympathetic to the separatists' cause.

Nihlus watched Motinn Dozz wiring the bridge supports for detonation with his 'special' shaped charges; should the traitors attempt to seize an advantage by maneuvering their armored units across the gorge to flank the Hierarchy's attack, they would regret it. He knew the same preparations were being done all across the bridge as Havoc troops were prepared their own charges. No doubt Dozz would want to personally inspect them to make sure they were up to his own standards.

Before Nihlus could say anything, Dozz looked up and nodded respectfully. "I suppose you're going to tell me to hurry up or possibly question my ability to get the job done? Am I correct or wrong?" Despite Dozz's words, there were no malice in them. The salarian massive eyes stared back at him while never once stopping his preparations.

"Of course not. As if I would rush the work of a master craftsman such as yourself."

Dozz glowered at Nihlus, searching his face for any trace of sarcasm that would be more expected from Maerun. Finding none, Dozz gave a nod as he continued wiring the explosives.

"How long until you and the others are finished?" Nihlus asked.

Dozz wiped the residue from the explosives and glanced up the length of the bridge. "Possibly another hour, maybe less depending on the work of the others. Absolutely less if the rain eases up and even less if I don't have any distractions."

Maerun would have bitten back with a retort or a backhanded comment, but Nihlus was incapable of displaying such disrespect to the comrades he relied upon to survive. After all, he hadn't known them for very long, or what differences lay between them. Better to remain silent than risk alienating an otherwise capable ally.

The sound of hovering turbines caused everyone to turn to the end of the bridge, seeing a Jiris hover-tank emerge from the jungle. At first, everyone first instinct was to dive into cover while the turian vehicles prepared firing solutions. Only the emergence of two turian civilians, one male and the other female, and Saren's cries to stand down spared the vehicle from destruction.

"Wait, wait. Don't fire. That is our contact," Saren said. One hand was raised to a tympanic membrane, indicating communication with the vehicle.

"I understand. Do not fear; I gave orders to stand down so they won't shoot you." Something passed through his eyes, and an irritated expression appeared before vanishing. "Well you can either take your chances with me, or turn back and see if the Facinus are more understanding."

This seemed to do the trick as the pair of the turians stepped away from the tank and made their way across the bridge. Their lack of armor, weapons, and overall demeanor told Nihlus they were civilians or incredible infiltrators. He could see one of them was holding a data-pad, which bore up a probable assumption that it was the information they sought.

"Which one of you is Saren?" One of them asked. Both were wearing simple clothing and had the colonial tattoo patterns of the Chatti.

"That's not important," Vasir said. She walked up to the two turians, holding her hand out to receive the data. "I presume you brought the data we asked for?"

"Ah yes," the male said, handing the data over. "It's all there. Contacts, bribes, assassinations, black market dealings, even funneling resources to support various slavers."

Vasir gave a nod, transferring the data over to her omni-tool. She verified the data. "Yeah, it's all here. Everything we suspected of Nassana Dantius and more," she said to no one in particular. SPECTRES had that habit of avoiding revealing information. "Okay, you can bring out the others."

"Of course." The male turian gave a signal. This led to five more turians emerging from the Jiris, three of whom old turians and the remaining two mere children.

"Foehammer, this is T7. We have package ready for extraction," Maerun focused on a tree, like Vasir.

It wasn't until the shuttle was on top of them that they could hear its thrusters, approaching as close to the bridge as it safely could. The family began entering, and only then did Nihlus realized they didn't bother packing anything other than what they were carrying.

"You must know something else," The female turian said. "As we were arriving, we saw a battalion of Facinus heading this way."

"Thank you for the information, but they'll need more than that if they want to take the bridge back." This time it was Saren's turn to finally speak. With a curt nod, he ordered the pilot to take off. As the doors were closing, one of the turian's gave one last thanks.

"I must say that was incredibly noble of you, Saren," Victus said. "But are you sure it was wise? You heard what she said, an entire battalion is coming and I imagine you SPECTREs have a more important job than helping to hold this bridge.

Saren gave a brief chuckle. "You're right we do, but we're SPECTREs. Every job we take is important no matter how large or small. Besides, I doubt Dozz or Vasir want to leave." He turned to look at each them, awaiting their answer.

"Ha!" Dozz laughed as he walked over to his charges. "There's no one else better for destroying the bridge." He held up a finger, beginning to explain the properties and mechanics of his explosives. He didn't realize everyone simply ignored him.

"If Dozz stays, I stay." Vasir was just as committed as anyone else. "Someone has to keep him in check."

Despite the good-natured comment, Nihlus considered if her commitment to the salarian SPECTRE ran deeper than professional dedication. It was none of his business though, so he filed it away.

"And the rest of us are turian," Saren said. "Against a battalion you're going to need all the guns you can get. As an old human –"

"Well in that case I'll leave you to prepare your men." Victus said. A cough from Vasir caught his attention. "Men and women." He corrected.

"Very well." Turning his attention to the SPECTREs, Saren began issuing orders. "Vasir, pick an elevated position and take targets of opportunity. Maerun, get in one of the bunkers and use that Revenant of yours. Dozz …" Saren began, cutting off when he saw the salarian preparing explosives and creating makeshift ones from what appeared to be thin air. "Keep … doing what you're doing. Nihlus, you're with me."

Like the turian legion, the SPECTREs set to busy themselves with preparations. Small talk between the team was rare as in the legion. Everyone had their tasks and with little time to prepare, no one bothered to waste time. With everything set, Nihlus and Saren walked towards General Victus who seemed satisfied with the final inspections.

"Any word from the scouts?" Saren asked.

Victus shook his head. "No. Everything is silent thus far, but this is the Facinus native territory. There could be an entire army out there and we may not even know it. The rain keeps visibility low and there is enough tree cover to hide the entire population of the city."

"At least the same applies to the Facinus," Saren pointed out. "We have better sensors and better troops."

"True, but don't be arrogant. The Facinus have far more troops and all it takes is for a few of them to get lucky to drain our shields and get through our armor."

"Well at least we have armor and artillery support," Nihlus said, contributing to the conversation.

Victus nodded. "Assuming it arrives in time. We'll see if it'll be enough."

The warnings from the scouts came just before the first artillery and mortar shells screamed overhead. The com-net burst with activity as voices competed with delivering warnings and intelligence, but still retained the discipline expected from turian troops. There were even early reports of the Facinus having their own Maceos and Tyruses.

Blinding explosions erupted from the rear and front of the bridges following in quick successions. Detonations were the only source of light in the battle, offering brief glimpses of the incoming battle. The trio of turians hurried to take cover in their pre-determined positions where they would be most effective.

Victus opened the com-net as he ran, yelling all the while. "Scout teams, where did they come from?"

He listened before making an impatient gesture at a communications officer, who turned to Saren. "Enemy contact three kilometers out and closing. Possible jammers, no accurate count other than Battalion size. Maceos and Tyruses are present, with Jirises making up the bulk of light support I'll connect you to the network –.

Victus swore before she'd finished, mobilizing the Hierarchy's own support. "All recon teams, hold position and delay the enemy as long as possible. Wait until the opportune time to strike and relay coordinates to artillery. Fall back under support fire when your positions are no longer tenable."

The scout teams responded with affirmatives before signing off. More shells continued to detonate, their echoes deafening. Each blast threw chunks of stone in every direction. Nihlus thanked the spirits the Facinus lacked heavier artillery pieces. The bulk of shells fired were air-burst, showering the battlefield with deadly fragments.

"Smart," Victus noted. "Airbursts are deadly against infantry even if in cover."

"I was thinking the same thing," Saren said. "I imagine they want to avoid damaging the bridge, but I don't understand why they're firing on both ends of the bridge."

"Because they're firing blind," Nihlus concluded. He turned to see Saren looking back with curiosity. "They probably think regular Hierarchy troops were sent to take the bridge and with the bunker crews silently taken out, they presume the bunkers to have been destroyed."

"Your assessment is correct," Victus approved. "All that's left is to wait for the enemy."

"Enemy one kilometer away and closing rapidly," one of the scout teams said on the com-net. "Maceos dismounting TRF toops are now visible."

"Acknowledged. Commence attack and call in coordinates for artillery," Victus said.

"Understood," the scout said. The distinct sound of multiple Kraenntis firing easily heard over the network. "34.367798° N, -113.60104° E."

A moment later, the air thundered with the whine of Rumbler artillery shells. Multiple fireballs emerged from the horizon ahead of their position, decorating the darkness with return fire of the Hierarchy. Nihlus could only imagine how much destruction was being caused among the rebel lines.

"Taking heavy enemy fire," the scout reported. "Half ammunition remaining."

With the bulk of the Hierarchy force positioned behind the reassuringly thick walls of the enemy's bunkers, Victus gave the order everyone was expecting. "Understood, fall back. Use grenades and call in artillery strikes cover your retreat. Nothing else left to do."

"Understood, General. We'll arrive shortly in fifteen minutes."

With an understandable a hint of pride, the scout teams arrived within thirteen minutes. Some were covered with varying degrees of injuries or wounds. The critically wounded reached the friendly lines first with the assistance of other scouts. Ducking under the cover of the bunkers, the turians braced for a heavy fight.

At his position, Nihlus held his Phaeston steady. Five Blackwatch soldiers remained passive, but ready to strike the first troops that entered their scopes. Another series of thunderous detonations shook the sides of the gorge only to be followed by a lull in the firing. All was quiet, until it was broken by the firing of many Phaeston rifles.

"Here we go!" Maerun hooted, before rippling the air with slugs from his Revenant.

Twin streaks of shrieking projectiles flashed overhead, one landing just in front Nihlus, with ground shaking detonations. The first missile exploded less than four meters before him, the shockwave of the blast throwing mud and rainwater towards his face. He heard them before seeing even above the sound of fire, their silhouette barely visible against the glimpse of light on the crest ridge ahead.

A quartet of firing Maceos announced their arrival. A cascade of four fireballs befell the first line of defenders, falling two entire squads before they could respond. Nihlus' eyes widened, instead of firing 30mm cannons, the IFVs emitted firepower more deserving of a Tyrus.

"General!" Nihlus exclaimed. Before he could finish, General Victus was already communicating with his own armored units.

"Do you have a target?" hissed Victus.

Nihlus was unaware if the General had heard him, but was relieved he had recognized the threat.

"Then fire at will! Take down those traitors!"

A blinding streak of light erupted from the turian's own three Tyrus Main Battle Tanks, their own 135 mm offering retribution. Their effects were immediate, a trio of shots smashing skewering a Maceo. It slewed from the ridge, its hull blazing and smoke boiling from its interior.

Nihlus could see Victus guiding the Tyrus to coordinate for maximizing their effects. The realization his defenders had armored support of their own seemed to give the enemy pause, but only for the briefest of seconds, it was time the Hierarchy troops exploited. The platoons of Maceos added their fire in support, 30 mm cannons puncturing shields before volleys of missiles fired from heavy infantry tore them apart with uncompromising accuracy.

Nihlus knew however that they were inconsequential, the mere forward elements of the enemy. Unfortunately, he was right. Yet more of the modified Maceos arrived accompanied by hundreds of Facinus infantry troops.

"All units fire at will," Victus ordered, calmness radiating from every word.

With precision, every turian soldier and vehicle opened fire. Some even called in artillery and mortar support, inflicting heavy losses to the enemy. Nihlus could feel the vibrations of the shells impacting, throwing huge sprays of mud, and in some grim cases, severed limbs and chunks of meat. Still with the weight of the enemy's numbers, the turian line was pushed back, slowly, but a clear margin.

Positioned ahead, Maerun and Dozz stood in the maw of the enemy. Dozz calmly switched between targets, firing his improvised explosives. One of the Jiris hover-tanks ground to a halt reduced to a wreck by an improvised land mine. It stuttered shots from its turret, stitching across the bunker's cover. Maerun saw as a few other hover-tanks attempted to retreat, seemingly now aware of their vulnerability. Expert shots launched by Dozz at the tank's turbines saw their maneuverability crippled, smoke and electric stench filled the air as they were taken out by the Havoc soldiers.

"Maerun," Called Nihlus over the com-net. "I suggest you get out of there! There will be more tanks coming over the ridge any moment and I am sure the Facinus heavy troopers have missiles! We have you covered, fall back!"

"Rookie! Your voice blesses me with instruction." Maerun intended no malice, Nihlus believed. But the turian never seemed to consider how his words could be received by others.

"He's right," Saren echoed. "Fall back now. Do it while you still have a chance."

"Well they do make a good argument, men," Maerun said calmly. "We've had our fun and thinned the enemy's numbers, but it's about time we've got going."

The SPECTREs and Havocs fired one last missile volley before hefting their weapons and falling back. Remaining true to turian warfare, the turians they retreated in good order, never once breaking formation.

"Saren!" Maerun called, "We're making our way across the bridge, please apologize to the enemy on my behalf."

Immediately after Maerun sent his transmission, a withering salvo of shells, slugs, and autocannon fire swept across the top of the ridge. Smoke and flames decorated the swaths of jungle, reducing elegant flora to barren stone in mere seconds.

"Go, go, go. Let's keep the march going," Maerun shouted, following behind the troop of turian soldiers as they sprinted through the rain. Nihlus could hear a jaw tensing rumble and roars of mechanical metal, already knowing the battle moved into the next phase, one decided by mechanized vehicles.

Turning to witness what damage his own support had caused, Maerun instead found two missile contrails staring back at him. With poor grace, he ducked only seeming to realize they weren't aimed at him as he heard the ringing clang of their impact against heavy shields. A crashing detonation told him that at least one friendly vehicle had been taken out of action, or worse, destroyed.

"Incoming!" he yelled, exponentially increasing his pace to a sprint. Havocs used their thrusters to rapidly reach friendly lines while he and Dozz had to rely on the speed of their legs. Behind, he could hear the thunder of battle cannons as they echoed across the gorge. He felt the powerful shockwaves behind them, even through his armor and distance between him and the point of detonation.

One, however, detonated far too close. His autosenses shut down as the shell exploded, the pressure of the blast almost crushing his internal organs. Red warning lights blinked across his visor, warning him of sustained injuries. His armor was shredded in some places and he felt searing pain while cursing the spirits. Maerun felt obscene, shearing pain as he yanked a giant size piece of sizzling shrapnel from his leg. Almost instantly, he could feel the effects of medi-gel applied to the wound.

'Thank the spirits for human innovation,' he thought as the substance helped numb the pain. Over his tenure as a SPECTRE he had suffered worse injures and ignored the pain as he continued moving to safety.

Two enemy Tyruses rumbled from the ridge, firing upon the defending turians. Furious gunfire spat from both lines, sweeping across the gorge while throwing up spouts of water filled with heated metal grains and rock. More enemy tanks and infantry spilled over the ridge, replacing their dead comrades in what seemed an infinite supply of manpower.

Nearing the edge of the bridge, Maerun heard the welcoming sounds of H-7 Vaker Gunships. Caught up with relief, he punched an air in triumph as they swept over the ridge and shredded the enemy force with powerful autocannons and Hastaam missiles and Mortre rockets. He slowed to a jogged leisurely the remaining distance, seeing the gunships circling around for another strafing run.

"Maerun, you certainly took your time," Nihlus responded.

Seeing the newest member of the team developing a sense of humor, Maerun couldn't help smiling. "What can I say? I only felt just for the enemy to receive their share of my attention."

A cough from General Victus drew their attention. "If both of you are finished. I believe it's time we fall back to the next defensive position."

"Really? I just got here," Maerun said. A silent glare from Saren told him to keep his mouth shut in the presence of an esteemed turian General.

"Unfortunately, yes," Victus said. If he detected the sarcasm from the SPECTRE, he didn't acknowledge it. "The gunships and artillery will cover us as well fall back. Time to blow those bridges!"

None were as eager to see the display of destruction as Dozz and it certainly was a sight to behold, the fireballs of his explosives were so enormous they seemed to reach the night sky and offered enough illumination for the defenders to see the shocked faces of the attacking forces.

"A job well done if I say so myself," Maerun commented.

It seemed fate took his words as an egregious insult, tossing them back with far more venom than he could dare admit as the Facinus began arriving with specialized vehicles. Vehicles which carried pre-fabricated structures that hauntingly matched the design of the bridge that had just been detonated.

"Maerun," Saren began, staring at him.

"Yes, sir?" One of the rare times he seemed to display actual professionalism.

"Shut up."

"Shutting up, sir."

Looking to the other side of the gorge as the Facinus it was evident the source of Saren's silent, controlled anger.

"We have no choice," Victus said. "We hold here for as long as we can." Already his troops and vehicles were exchanging fierce fire with the enemy.

"Agreed. May the spirits protect you, General."

"And you as well, Saren."

---

Nihlus ejected another heat sink, firing out towards the flame wreathed ridge. The same Vaker gunship which had covered Maerun's retreat came back for another attack round. It came in guns blazing, rockets streaking from wings in rippling salvoes of threes and a torrent of autocannon fire at targets Nihlus couldn't see. Fresh explosions erupted from behind the ridge as he guessed more of the traitors died.

Suddenly streams of fire erupted from behind the ridge, erupting around the gunship with ferocity. Nihlus swore, realizing the all too familiar sign of anti-aircraft fire. The gunship swerved to avoid the incoming fire, but a stream of shells spat skyward and seconds later the enemy gunners had the Vaker bracketed. Thousands of shells ripped through the shields and a moment later, its armor, tearing the port wing off. The engine exploded in a brilliant fireball as the pilot struggled to balance the aircraft. It banked to avoid the variety of shells and slugs aimed towards it, but continued to lose altitude while spewing black smoke from its abused stricken frame.

Nihlus watched in concealed horror as the pilot spiraled lower and lower while its wobbling frame grew larger by the second.

"Spirits no!" Nihlus whispered as the gunship smashed into the side of the gorge, skidding down with a trailing halo of brilliant halo of sparks and flame. The pilots shared the gunships fate, finally crashing into the ground below with a final shriek of metal before coming to a halt less than three hundred meters below. Only now could Nihlus see clearly down into the gorge, but was grieved by the sight it offered him.

"Targets sighted!" Dozz shouted. "Enemy tanks inbound."

"Mark your targets, men, and fire when you have a clear shot!" Victus ordered.

The lead rebel armored column consisted of dozens of modified Maceos supported by the more agile Jiris hover-tanks to suppress the defending heavy infantry. Nihlus snarled, angered by the loss of the good men whose bodies might not be collected. With the cover of their heavy cannons, the Maceos charged once the pre-fabricated was finally set up. With no proper explosives, the SPECTREs and 29th legion couldn't cause significant damage to the bridge.

Missiles and tanks shells pierced the darkness, the night finally illuminated by scores of exploding tanks. No matter how many the turians slain, the Facinus had more troops to send towards their lines. Soon the bridge was choked with burning wrecks, hundreds of screaming soldiers dismounting from their transports in an attempt to advance their lines through the tanks' graveyard.

Nihlus ejected heat sink after heat sink. He fired practically continuously with almost no interruption. It was impossible to miss at this point, there were just that many Facinus. Even Maerun's Revenant seemed never to cease its basso song. The darkness of the battle field echoed with the sounds of screams and gunfire. But Nihlus was not fooled by the slaughter they inflicted on the traitors; their ammunition, much like their numbers, seemed infinite. He could see the battle would soon degenerate into bloody close quarters fighting and, while he had no doubt the SPECTREs and Victus' men would kill hundreds, they would eventually fall. It was simply the nature of attrition.

It seemed Saren came to the same conclusion. "Dozz, create another heavy explosive!"

"Regular or heavy?"

"Heavy!"

Nihlus ducked, not a moment too soon as streams of slugs crisscrossed the darkness overhead, causing an odd stroboscopic effect. Volleys of sustained enemy fire cut down a couple of Blackwatch troops. The turians answered in kind to the Facinus, returning an equal volley of devastating fire of their own.

"Get the wounded to the last defensive line!" Victus ordered. Knowing not many troops could be spared, Nihlus saw the wounded Blackwatch refuse any assistance instead retreating on their own will.

"Behold, the sight of our hero!" Dozz exclaimed.

Every head within sight turned to see an ugly contraption. It was a large shaped charge connected with every explosive imaginable attached to a disruptor torpedo. It wasn't known if the shock emitted from the surrounding turians was the result of Dozz being capable of designing such an explosive on a short notice or the simple fact Dozz managed to procure an anti-ship weapon.

"Well it's our best shot, but how can we deliver it?" Saren questioned.

"Well use a Maceo," Victus answered, already on radioing the vehicle commander.

Dozz gave a cheerful smile and nodded, "We'll have exactly thirty seconds from the first detonation to clear the bridge. If we're not off the bridge we'll all be dead," he said, extending his arms out.

The salarian's positive tone unnerved Nihlus, but chose not to voice his thoughts.

"Alright, I've already called for another stealth Stormer shuttle, but it won't arrive before sunrise at the earliest," Saren said.

Victus opened a channel to the remaining forces under his command. "All troops, as soon as the assault troops move, I want enough firepower laid down on those barefaced to give a krogan quad an erection. Understood?"

Shouted confirmations and laughter greeted Victus' order. He ejected a heat sink from his Phaeston and motioned for the Havocs to get ready. Everyone understood the Maceo and Havocs had a low chance of survival, but none complained their orders. As excellent turians, they never did.

"NOW!" Victus yelled and the turians opened fire with everything they had. Volley after volley of tank, artillery, and mortar shells plummeted on the Facinus lines. It preceded flaring jests of tungsten slugs from small arms and heavy turrets. The swiftness of death was unbelievable. An arsenal of weaponry offering death to the Facinus rebels.

In the face of such a counter-assault, the Facinus' reaction was what everyone expected. It started with one rebel falling back and caused an effect as more and more began to retreat, however it was far too late. Their resolve was broken in the face of the Hierarchy's greatest.

A Maceo shot forward, the improvised explosive trailing behind it camouflaged as nothing more but food provisions. Flaring jets of light erupted as the Havocs activated their jump packs as they soared into the sky.

'Who says turians can't fly?' Nihlus thought, bewitched by the inspiring sight.

And then it was over.

Nihlus couldn't tell how long the fierce the fighting had lasted, but believed it must have been hours. Only upon examining his chronometer did he realize the fighting had only been one and a half. He knelt and counted the remaining heat sinks: a total of nine. It wasn't good, but it no longer mattered. The fight was over.

Or so he thought.

Risking a glance over the bunker's cover, Nihlus saw the replacement bridge littered with hundreds of corpses. The tension in the air was palpable, ready to fall back the instant they heard Dozz's explosives detonate.

Only it never came. Long minutes passed with nothing but the hiss of static over the com-net, the crackle of flames and moans of the dying Facinus rebels. A crack of fire was briefly heard, continuing for several minutes before fading as rapidly as it had occurred.

Nihlus and Saren exchanged worried glances. Nihlus shook his head sadly. "They failed."

"We don't know that," snapped Victus, but Nihlus could see the doubt in his eyes. "They had a Maceo with them and we haven't heard it fired nor its destruction."

Nihlus had to concede that was true, but it only added to the mystery. Unconsciously, he scanned the sky for any sign of the Stormer shuttle's approach, but it remained empty. A sudden alarm from one of the technicians roused Nihlus from his thoughts and once again he swiftly aimed his rifle. He could barely the outlines of movement through the wreckages of the destroyed enemy vehicles, flashes of teal Facinus armor.

With primal ferocity, the elite of the Facinus finally revealed themselves. It began with the barrage of the enemy's own artillery coupled with directed fire against Victus' technicians. Forced to duck behind cover, they could only see traces of the enemy advance, battering through the wreckages of armor and firing on the move.

The enemy's Tyrus tanks continued forwards, closely followed by Maceos and Jirises. Victus and the legendary Blackwatch were the first to recover from the ruthless fire, lifting their arms and pumping shots into the advancing enemy. A heart beat later the SPECTREs regained their senses and added what they could towards the enemy.

"Fire at will!" Victus bellowed. "Fire everything you have! Someone contact the Rumblers and Vakers and tell them to provide cover!"

Two missiles and a 135 mm tank shell punctured forward into the Facinus, for which Nihlus prayed would devastate the enemy. His prayers failed as the rounds collided with the lead Tyrus' shields but failed to penetrate. Supported by additional vehicles, the lead enemy tank opened fire in return. Two of the Hierarchy's Maceos exploded, veering off and crashing into the side of the bunkers. The flames of their destruction fueled Nihlus' rising fury.

A Blackwatch soldier next to Nihlus fell, a sniper round detonating within his armor. He collapsed without a sound. Nihlus responded for his fallen brother, emptying an entire heat sink into the traitor Facinus legionnaires. Fewer Facinus died than there were talons on a single turian with the dismounted enemy troops closing rapidly. Two more Tyrus tanks died to the efforts of Dozz's explosives and the Havocs' missiles. Vasir did her best to counter the enemy's fire, but there was simply too much pouring into the defenders. Two more Havocs died as a result, disciplined volleys of small arms and turret fire capable of doing only so much, their hammering fire however kept the Facinus from overrunning the bunkers.

Rumbler artillery rained down in a hurricane of bombardment killing hordes of enemy troops. The rounds detonated all across the bridge, yet somehow unable to rupture it. The construction of the bridge seemed to withstand the full force of the strike. The noise served as a nice distraction while the smoke served to obscure the vision of the Facinus. The turians troops seized the moment to regain the momentum.

The infernal bombardment in the most tremendous cannonade Nihlus' ever heard swallowed the enemy troops in a wide curve of unending flame. Airburst fragments mixed in with cluster boms ruptured through bodies, severing limbs and reducing them to powered mists. Anti-armor rounds slammed against enemy vehicles in infinite salvoes. Mighty war vehicles became scrap metal as it was now the Hierarchy's turn to celebrate their own source of infinite ordnance from the rear lines.

Yet, the Facinus continued in a fanatic advance, their hatred of the Hierarchy outweighing the value of their lives even as the unlimited artillery barrage continued.

The turians in the bunker across from Nihlus' perished in a searing ball of white-hot fire as Facinus troopers unloaded missiles and detonated shaped charges, the blast incinerating the kills. The rest continued on coming.

Nihlus fired in fury, cutting down as many enemy troops as his rifle could allow. A copper colored oval shaped object landed within the bunker, Nihlus full well knowing what it was.

"Grenade!" he yelled. He clutched the object, his heart rapidly beating with the realization it could detonate in his hands and wipe him out before he threw it back at the enemy. He let out a sigh of relief once it detonated among the enemy.

"Nice throw," Maerun said, his rifle almost drowning out his voice.

"Indeed, quick thinking," Saren said. "That could've been … bad."

"We can hold out on any congratulations; here they come!" Victus yelled. His words were prophetic once the enemy had finally reached the battered bunker.

Omni-tools clashed with sparks, knifes were thrust into flesh, and limbs were torn once the enemy threw their bodies into the meat-grinder. Nihlus could feel the murderous intent as he side-stepped a Facinus trooper who had swung his omni-blade too early, Nihlus thrust his own omni-tool and buried it in the enemy's chest. Exerting effort, he threw the body back into advancing troops. He fired his Carnifex and rolled underneath an axe, putting his pistol into the small gap between the enemy's groin and fired at point blank range. The round penetrated the armor and blasted a fist-size chunk away.

Dozz and the last Blackwatch trooper fought back to back, desperately fighting for their lives against six Facinus. Nihlus leapt into combat, firing into the back of one trooper while embedding his omni-tool into the back of another. Blood fountained into his hands, only to be sizzled by the energetic blade.

Everything was blood and violence. The Blackwatch soldier fighting alongside Dozz fell, his body pulverized by a grenade. Nihlus freed his omni-blade and decapitated the killer.

With weakened shields, Dozz fared only slightly better. The salarian cried out in pain, shrapnel digging into his flesh. Clumps of meat replaced areas where his legs used to be and as he was brought down, a Facinus trooper drove an axe into his shoulder blade. Yet the salarian refused to die, stabbing the soldier through his armored boot before firing a heavy pistol between the visor plates.

"AARRGHHH!" Roared Nihlus, going on a warpath. In a blood rage powerful enough to rival a krogan, he dragged his omni-blade free from an enemy's helmet and blew the head of another with his shotgun. Round after round was delivered into each soldier, the Daedalos rendering Facinus elite infantry into meat puddles the designer had never intended to cause.

To one side, Saren drove his omni-blade through the torso of the remaining Facinus traitor near him, bisecting the trooper in half from the waist up. Victus weaved through the battle with a chilling precision, picking off stray targets with his heavy pistol while firing off concussive blasts towards possible enemy reinforcements.

Maerun, out of ammo and options, had resorted to using his own armored gauntlets, punching the last remaining enemy soldier in the neck, crushing his thorax in brutal fashion. His armor leaked with blood from over a dozen wounds, the medi-gel clotting only so much. In his adrenaline-fueled state, he did not seem to realize he'd reopened his earlier injuries.

The bunker itself stank of blood and smoke with severed limbs. The Tyrus blasted away at enemy soldiers before it finally succumbed to the enemy's incredible ferocity. It became a blazing wreck, its passengers turning from crew to joint occupants of a flaming coffin.

The artillery continued its full support, blasting apart the enemy positions with a fully fury. Hierarchy mortar teams further supplemented the barrage, seemingly not sparing any munitions in the fight. The enemy had seemed to halt only to commit the next pack of fanatical soldiers. Like a pack of opportunistic varren, they bid their time waiting to fully unleash the next wave.

With only a moments reverie, Nihlus gave Dozz medical attention to the best of his abilities, the only major obstacle being the difference in DNA. The remaining soldiers gathered what munitions they could before the next wave arrived.

"We need to get the wounded back to the command bunker. We can't hold them here!" Victus already had two turians carrying Dozz on a makeshift stretcher.

"Agreed," grimaced Saren. His grim face bespoke less certainty of survival than before.

"No," yelled Dozz. He attempted to wave off the assistance. "Need to detonate the bridges!"

"YOU are no condition to move, let alone detonate a bridge," stressed Saren. He was baffled by the salarian's stubbornness.

"He's right," Maerun said.

With a tip of a nod, Saren turned to Victus. "General –"

"Save it," Maerun interrupted. "The team is going to need you. I'm wounded in a dozen different places and I'll only slow you all down." Looking around the round, his eyes made it clear he was not to be discouraged. His eyes finally rested on Saren's.

With a clenched jaw, Saren reluctantly agreed. At that moment, the radio crackled and a voice said, "Foehammer three to SPECTRE T7, do you guys copy?"

"I copy, Foehammer three, but do not land on our position. The enemy has an undetermined amount of anti-air defenses. We have already lost one Vaker gunship."

"Understood. We will set down near the closest available landing zone, three hundred meters south of the command post." replied the pilot

"Load up. This all we have left," Ordered Saren. His gaze fell on the floor, gripping his Phaeston with murderous intent. A hand fell on his shoulder, Maerun looking back at him with the cheerfulness he was rather known for.

"It's been an honor, sir!" Maerun held out a hand, pride beaming in his eyes.

"The honor has been all mine, Lonar Maerun," Saren said. "Go with the spirits!"

"I'll do more than that, sir," Maerun said with a wry smirk. "I intend to fly into them." He tapped the last remaining Havoc jump thrusters, now attached to his armor.

Despite himself, Saren could not hold back a smile. He gripped Maerun's grips tightly in a soldier's grip. "Now go and make me proud old friend. That's an order."

Maerun nodded. "I will Major Saren Arterius," he promised. He saluted with all pride.

His salute was returned not only by his commanding officer but by all remaining survivors, including General Victus. The few remaining survivors in the bunker followed General Victus' lead, snapping their rifles across their chests.

Maerun seemed greatly humbled, and smiled. "May the spirits watch over you all," he said and slipped outside into the rain.

Under cover of the continuous artillery barrage, which Maerun could only assume General Victus ordered not to cease, he maneuvered across the jungle. He couldn't afford to charge in full glory with no support and with his injuries. He had to do his stealthily, knowing it wouldn't be long until the Facinus realized the bunkers were no longer defended and charged through the artillery to take the command post. He couldn't let that happen.

He crawled through the mud and rubble, keeping out of sight. Thanks to his first mission where his team boarded and intercepted a running exo-jet going at nearly 300 km/hr hijacked by terrorists, this little job of slipping onto the bridge and detonating the charges was merely a cadet's training by comparison. Muttering a prayer, Maerun activated his thrusters. He landed meters away from the charges.

"Ha! This is easy," Maerun said. He regretted his words as the enemy had seemed to have finished their preparations, sending the next wave forward.

"I really do need to shut up," He muttered. Not being completely defenseless, he charged forward. It was a race to reach the charges before the Facinus killed him.

The vanguard of the second wave matched the first, undisciplined militia soldiers while the elites stood back and let them drain the defenders. They carried stubby pistols and serrated knifes, emitting howls.

Maerun fired into their midst, blasting one of the militias in the face despite the range. He had barely reached his destination before the Facinus crashed into him. Once again it become a brutal struggle of personal ferocity. Maerun grunted as a traitor stabbed him with a curved wedge, feeling the blade pierce through the blasted gaps in his armor. He broke the turian's neck with a blow of his free hand.

'Why do the beautiful ones always try to kill me?' Maerun thought, regretting ending the rather attractive female turian's life. To his horror however, he saw far younger turians charge at him. He couldn't and would rather not want to guess their young age.

Maerun snarled understanding what would have to be done. He killed the first two with his pistol, but was unable to avoid the third. White heat exploded in his face, searing the flesh from the side of his face as one of the child soldiers fired an overheated incendiary blast. He fell back, blind with pain and unable to see the crackling omni-blade that hacked his elbow from his arm.

Hissing with pain, both physically and emotionally, Maerun grabbed the young turian and simply threw him off the bridge. One turian, resembling the one recently thrown off the bridge, charged him recklessly, but Maerun was ready.

Grabbing the metal wedge stuck inside, Maerun side stepped the charging turian and struck the turian in the back of the neck. Following the strike, the SPECTRE collapsed next to the corpse, dizziness and pain draining him. He tried to stand, but his strength was gone. The remaining Facinus, this time thankfully composed of nothing but adults, stood between him and the dead Havoc soldier clutching the trigger.

"By the spirits this is too difficult." Maerun could feel his life draining from him.

The Facinus turians convulsed at the sound of bursting autocannon fire, their lack of armor leaving them to be reduced into puddles of semi-liquid mass. Maerun twisted his dying body to see the beautiful form of Foehammer Three roaring through the gorge towards the bridge, its autocannons blasting the enemy turians apart.

Maerun smiled through the pain, guessing Saren stubbornness getting the best of him and must have had the pilot fly through the enemy's sensors. He could now see the main column of the enemy advancing. It was not only the stroke of luck as the charges had now been primed, Dozz having activated the charges but still needing release. Seeing a shape charge, Maerun slumped his back to the bridge's railings.

"Well that's con –" Maerun immediately shut his mouth, wanting to avoid the potential consequences. Still he would only get one shot at this.

He thought of his first mission, how Saren had saved his life when he jumped on top of the grenade. A painful smile emerged on his lips.

'You saved my life that day, Saren. So today I get to save yours.'

Grabbing a nearby Phaeston and a few grenades, he smiled at the faces of horror painted itself on every face who could see Maerun. He threw the grenades for redundancy, but them alone would not be enough for the climax.

"Mission accomplished, sir," He managed a nodding salute towards the shuttle. Maerun pulled the trigger.

From onboard the Stormer shuttle, Nihlus and the rest of the SPECTREs watched the unbearably bright streak of white and blue light flashing towards them, a miniature sun being created before their very eyes. It raced towards them in a white searing, blinding fireball, spraying molten tendrils of liquid fire. The central support of the bridge was instantly vaporized in the near-nuclear heat, and Nihlus had a fleeting glimpse of Maerun before he too was engulfed in the expanding light.

The echoes of the first blast still rang from the gorge sides as the area seemed to become tectonically unstable, resulting in the entire area collapsing on its foundation. Giant sections of rock were cracked and thrown, thunderous blossoming blooms of detonations erupting from the layers of the planet. Hundreds of Facinus tanks and soldiers were pitched, as if by a divine hand, plummeting to their deaths. A thick shroud of smoke and flames obscured the final, shrieking death of the Facinus' pre-fabricated bridge, it's twisted remains crashing into the gorge below.

"That's why you wanted to detonate the bridge, to make sure we survived," Saren said, breaking the somber silence.

Dozz grimly nodded his head. "Yes."

"What did you put on that torpedo?" It took Saren strength to divert his eyes from the unmarked grave of one of his finest soldiers and longest friends. He hid the shock as best as he could.

"Everything," Dozz answered. Despite his injuries, the salarian managed to deliver a fatigued smile. His lack of elation over his bomb's success and blast was enough to tell everyone how much grief he was holding within.

Saren did not press further, instead examining the data-pad they had recovered. He hoped to shed light on Nassana Dantius, the asari who had built up a rapport recently, and whom seemed liable to become a viable threat if not dealt with immediately.

The salarian winced in pain, the remaining cartilage in his thighs in bad condition. His wounds had been stabilized, but he still needed medical attention. Vasir had already given the pilot directions to the nearest medical facility on the colony under the control of the Hierarchy. She too seemed to be dealing with the aftermath of Maerun's death, focusing on undertaking any available work to avoid thinking about the turian SPECTRE's unforeseen demise.

Nihlus wearily removed his helmet, cradling it as his eyes stared at the molten bridge even after it was no longer visible. He thought of Maerun's sacrifice, wondering if he was capable of living up to the same standards set by the team and if they would accept him as one of their one. He understood losing a comrade was always difficult, but the turian military dealt with the losses by completing the mission at any cost. However the fact remained that he was no longer just a turian soldier, now he was a SPECTRE and seeing how the loss of one of their own had greatly affected them, Nihlus pondered how he would deal the loss of someone so close to him.

Nihlus lowered his head further, examining the blood-stained comrades at his side. 'Nothing else but do my best,' he vowed. 'Then fight on.'

"By the spirits!" Saren exclaimed. "Pilot, get me into contact with the Council immediately!"

"What is it?" Nihlus asked.

"An immediate attack on a Citadel race."

"Which one?"

"Humans, specifically one of their colonies."

"Does it say by what?" Vasir asked.

Saren shook his head. "No, but given Dantius connections it could spiral into a war between the Terminus Systems and the Systems Alliance."

"The medical facility we're headed to has a communications beacon. We can connect you with the Council from there," the pilot replied.

Saren nodded. "Then get there in haste. Time is of the essence."

---

Colony 2359, Early Colonization Stage

Systems Alliance Marine Special Operations Command (SAMSOC)

7th N6, Marine Support Platoon

The heavy whine of Mako transports pierced the dust choked air, the grains of the fiery orange sandstorm bouncing off the vehicles' shields. The storm was spread over a span of a few kilometers, the largely barren planet's hostility obvious.

Senior Petty Officer John Shepard sat in the forward compartment, scanning the radio frequency of the planet. Chatter on his headset marking the position of the other Makos carrying the rest of the N6 Marines as they too searched for the lost pioneer team. [Let me know if ME still uses radios or something different. I know for communications they use comm buoys, however I am not sure if they are used for everything thus replacing radios entirely.

"You've picked up any ID?" Toombs asked. He manned the Mako's mass accelerator, eyeing the horizon for potential threats.

"No," Shepard replied. His eyes never strayed from his station. "Nothing but silence. I doubt we'll find anything to be honest."

"Yeah, ominous silence. The colony has gone dark, which means something happened here."

Shepard shrugged. "Could have been slavers or possibly the terrain."

'No idea why anyone would want to live here,' he thought.

Colony 2359 as it was colloquially known was a recently discovered planet within Alliance space and designated for colonization. In fact, it was already in the early stages of it, or was until all contact with the pioneer team's Pathfinder was lost. It was a planet shrouded with thick, choking clouds of all sorts of reds, yellows, and browns that swirled and mixed and blended together to create new flavors of useless rocks and sand. Its hostility to man was second only to Mars, but unlike the red planet which was both within humanity's native system and contained an rich-archive of prothean technology, the planet Shepard was currently deployed to seemed to offer no valuable resources to the Alliance.

"This far into Alliance space? Not possible." The conversation with Toombs was a minor distraction from gazing upon the ugly terrain. The planet closer mirrored a stain than an actual colony.

"Well what do you think?"

Toombs shrugged in the confines of the vehicle. "I think it was the work of inegid," he said, an audible groan emitting from the rest of the compartment. Inegid were a mysterious insectoid race thought to dwell on barren worlds and the source for many horror tales or, in Toombs case, nonstop conspiracy theories.

The Mako experienced excessive turbulence as it continued onward, disrupting the sensors at Shepard's station. It continued for some time before everything cleared and Shepard was forced to recalibrate the settings to properly realign the coordinates on the display.

"What the hell was that?" Toombs asked.

"Just rough terrain," the driver replied. "Nothing you've not experienced thus far."

"Nothing we've experienced thus far has caused the sensors to fluctuate," Shepard pointed out. "I'm also getting readings of seismic activity. Terrain doesn't do that by itself."

"Was it out of the ordinary?" The driver asked.

"Negative."

"Then it was just probably shearing tectonic plates, God knows why the Alliance would want to establish a colony here."

"Listen up greenhorns, you may be N-6s, but I'll be damned if any of you think you're good enough for N7. This may just be a reconnaissance mission, but I plan on seeing some washouts." Rossos' Mako was in the lead of the formation, far less intimidating than the mercenary the remaining group of class 117 had first been instructed by, but far pettier issuing infractions for the miniscule of things like not properly pronouncing his name. The second lieutenant leading them was an N7 marine, one of the Alliance's best, and ultimately, he had the final word of who among the N6s would rise to the coveted N7 rank.

"We're approaching the settlement in fifty seconds. When we arrive, I want troops disembarked ASAP and the perimeter secured in less than a minute."

"Guess we've just received our orders," Toomb said.

"Yeah." Shepard sighed in ill-masked frustration.

He didn't like situation. Deployed on a barely mapped colony, approaching the target object with no intelligence, and compounded with the terrible weather, or usual in Shepard's mind, that offered terrible line of sight, combined with disembarking troops and positioning them away from the Makos to meet unknown conditions was a terrible idea. He knew a few of the marines shared the same thoughts, but of course none could inform the great second lieutenant without literally being kicked out of the program. Rossos had, on more than one occasion, kicked out a recruit simply for pointing out a more viable alternative to his commands. Given how some of the recruits were welcomed to try again, Shepard thought Rossos was assigned as an instructor in the N7 program rather than an actual marine because SAMCOC realized early on he'd probably get good troops killed.

The moment the formation of Makos had reached their target, the rear ramps of dropped. Hostile air blasted the armored-clad helmets of the N6s to their many groans and complaints. Shepard stepped out onto the barren landscape, feeling the unleveled sensation of rocks against his armored feet. To his immediate surprise, the sand-storm had passed them, leaving the platoon with clear visibility. Toombs soon followed after and seconds later the entire platoon had taken formation. Per Rossos' instruction, each squad of marines separated and moved to their assigned positions while simultaneously looking for survivors.

"This is unusual," Shepard observed. The settlement consisting of numerous prefabricated buildings and some research stations were largely left intact, but no sign of life could be seen, heard, or detected for that matter. His HUD identifying only the N6s.

"Understatement of the year," Toombs responded, leveling his rifle and scanning the area. His approach matched Shepard's, cautious and alert.

The blinking lights of the main archway clearly indicated this was the settlement. An ominous dread filled every marine, their survival instincts and training kicking in. As had Zaeed declared, 'If it's dead silent, either your dead in space or your walking into a trap,' and every marine heeded his advice.

Well almost everyone.

"What the hell is wrong with you all!?" Rossos shouted. "Didn't I tell you to get into position!"

Toombs snorted. "Easy for him to say. He's hanging back with the Makos while everyone else is walking into who knows what?"

"Agreed," Shepard stated, taking point and leading his squad. "Stay sharp. Something doesn't feel right."

"Increase that to everything," Toombs said.

Using small, careful steps, Shepard led his squad through the abandoned settlement. He saw other squads do the same, ignoring the second lieutenant's demands for speed under the convenient guise of com-interference.

The rock-scattered streets were eerily quiet, only the whirling moan of the wind and the shouts from Rossos disturbing the silence. A building containing lab equipment stood abandoned at the far end beside others created as living quarters. The tension in the air was thicker than the sandstorm experienced on their way here, and Shepard suppressed the urge to curse the lieutenant to shut up and let him focus on the current task at hand. The settlement reeked of abandonment.

"Let's check the lab. Perhaps we'll learn something useful," Shepard said, leading his squad towards the building.

"Hopefully," Toombs said. A hint of hesitation could be detected in his voice.

A gurgling sound was heard in the air and everyone reverted to their instincts, rifles swinging to face the direction the sound had come form, which incidentally had originated from the lab. Shepard's feeling that something was incredibly wrong rose from a mere suspicion to a certainty. He motioned his squad to follow, edging closer to the lab. Other squads who had heard the sound also neared the building, surrounding it with trepidation, not knowing what to expect.

"Okay, fall in." Shepard led the way in, not liking the first signs of the possible source of the Pathfinders disappearance. At the side of one the walls, a three-meter tear had been ripped across. The metal had been peeled back and buckled, Shepard noticing the corrosive properties of a potent acid along the tear.

Shepard steadied his M-8 Avenger and advanced cautiously towards the second room, a sudden chill enveloping him as he moved into the long shadow cast by the ominous building. He stepped into what looked like a containment facility or cage, the flashlight slung beneath the barrel on his rifle illuminating the claustrophobic space. Even through the numerous filters installed in the helmet, the thick stench agitated by the blistering temperature filled his nostrils. While the spear of light from his attachment could only reveal the merest fragment of what lay within, even that barest revelation was far too much.

Bodies. Dozens of gutted, flensed, dismembered, and partially devoured bodies filled the room, like hunks of meat in a slaughter house. Strunk from the walls on a resinous streamer of glistening mucus, their dead flesh hard and unyielding, their dead eyes staring down in mute accusation at the marine. Pools of dried mucous plastered the even floor and Shepard felt a suffocating fear swell in his chest.

The illuminator casted shadows across the interior of the dark laboratory, providing only a glimpse of the experiments conducted. The dead offered no answers, only gnawed eyes, torn bellies, torn limbs, and ripped flesh.

"Damn you all! I've had it. I'm failing the whole lot of you!" Rossos bellowed.

In that moment, the lieutenant's words were the furthest thing from Shepard's mind. "Everyone fallback! Move! Get away from the lab!" Shepard warned, pushing Toombs out of the room. The duo were already heading out through the door when the creature behind them let out a monstrous roar.

"Over my dead body!" If Rossos' voice could have a facial expression, Shepard would have it imagined would have been livid. "You will hold your ground!"

Shepard ignored him, already sprinting out of the lab. Toombs was right behind, hollering warnings to the rest of the marines. Behind them came dozens of klixens, insectoids crablike beetle creatures, swarming out of the building.

The marines in a heartbeat fired on the insects as soon as they became invisible, but their carapace armor was too strong. An unlucky marine nearest the klixens was engulfed in flames, warped jaws biting and tearing through ablative armor. Within seconds only piles of mushed meat were all that remained of the marine.

Shepard and the remaining marines made sure he did not die in vain, grenades and sustained fire dropping a few of the hideous creatures. Heavy grenadiers moved forward, M-100 grenade launcher fired upon the klixens and killing several more. Toombs timed a grenade before throwing it, shrapnel penetrating armor followed by a concussive shot.

Shepard ejected a heat sink, the intensity of the amount of weapons fire nearly enough to drown out the sound of his voice. He couldn't tell when or at what specific point, but Shepard had assumed the role of de factor leader of all the squads. He fired again and again into the mass of the beasts, their natural armor beginning to wear down. Where their swollen skulls and armored carapaces had initially deflected all ordnance, the force of multiple rounds shattering began bringing the last of the klixens down. Soon the settlement was littered with the bodies of alien insects.

The victory did not last however, an earthquake returning with a vengeance. The ground trembling in such power that was unnatural.

"What the hell?" Toombs asked. He was answered in the form of a thunderous eruption from the subterranean layer.

Shepard, like the rest of the marines, was thrown through air. Through the rupture, Shepard could identify the creature. "THRESHER MAW! BACK TO THE MAKOS!"

Every marine rolled to their feet, some firing wildly and ineffectually. Hunched over and lacking any eyes, it's bestial face hissed in alien hunger. Shepard fired a concussive shot, hitting the creature, but if the creature felt the blast, it gave no indication as it targeted the nearest group of marines.

The thresher maw was unnaturally fast, lashing out with an attack of acid. Shepard watched in horror as the marines caught in the attack were exposed to excruciating pain. The acid ate through the shields and armor, the skins of the marines blistering and sloughing from their bones as the acid at their flesh away. The marines screamed piteously until their throats melted and their lifeless bodies dissolved into stinking slime.

The Makos were only three minutes away, but it seemed to last an eternity as the thresher maw spat out acid so corrosive it was enough burn meters of ground away. Many died a cruel, painful death as acid melted armor, skin, and bone before being consumed by a creature so massive Shepard could tell the lives of his fellow marines would not be enough to quench its hunger. By the time the remaining marines reached the vehicles, only five remained.

"What the hell is wrong the lot of you!?" Rossos demanded. His face composed of solely the color red. "Return to your positions at once!" He waved his pistol in emphasis. "Or I swear I will execute myself."

Shepard, and the rest of the marines, ignored the crazed lieutenant. "Get into the Makos." Shepard could already tell who would be the first Rossos planned on executing. "Toombs, man the turret."

"Yes, sir."

Rossos tried to stop them, not that it would have done any good. "None of you are going to go anywhere unless it's the afterlife." He aimed at the nearest marine, steadying his pistol. He did not have the chance to fire before acid landed on his arms, effectively liquifying them off. He turned to see the creature behind them in terror. "NO! I WAS PROMISED –"

The thresher maw pounced, its entire jaw consuming the lieutenant's body whole. None spared a passing glance as the survivors manned the Mako, being only enough to properly carry a sparse crew.

The vehicle roared to live, the driver pulling it in reverse before braking and rapidly swerving it to make a reverse 180 J-turn. The displays in front of Shepard blinked, alarms ringing in alert. The graphics displayed the location of the Mako and the Thresher Maw, the distance rapidly closing.

"Toombs!" Shepard warned, switching between frequencies to try to contact the nearest Navy base. Comm beacons were available, but only if one could hit the right frequency, and aim at the correct location.

"I'm on it," Toombs replied. The electric-sound of the Mass Accelerator firing was heard over the alarms, momentarily drowning their sound. The massive cannon pumped 155mm shells into the approaching beast, painting its body with blemishes and dirty smears. The vehicles coaxial-mounted machine gun fired in spite, a vain attempt of adding increased firepower into the giant attempting to kill the survivors, but it was futile effort.

Luckily Shepard's efforts to contact the Alliance navy were not.

"This is Vice Admiral Dain to ground force, what is your status?"

Shepard's heart was filled with hope. "This is Senior Petty Officer John Shepard, N-6 Marines. We are under immediate threat from a Thresher Maw!"

"Copy. We've received intelligence from a Council strike force on Taetrus of an unspecified attack on this colony."

"That attack is no longer imminent. It's already in progress," Shepard said. "We can use assistance!"

"Copy. Hold on, locking in on your position."

"If their planning on doing anything, they better do it soon," Toombs warned, firing the main cannon to a point where overheat warnings were appearing on Shepard's screen. Knowing Toombs, Shepard knew he was also aware of the danger. Toombs knew the vehicle's weaponry better than anyone else.

Shepard nodded shakily, eyes glued to the screens displaying the ever-decreasing distance between them and the Thresher Maw.

The noise of over hundreds of Mass Accelerator point defense turrets and Gauss broadside guns pumping slugs into the approaching monster was deafening. Hundreds of explosions burst on and around the leviathan, painting the sky and ground bursting fire. The creature's blood coated the ground, it's dying screams eliciting cries of joy from the surviving marines. The Thresher Maw did not confine itself with dying alone, throwing vast quantities of acid at the retreating Mako. Its aim was true, striking the rear of the vehicle and melting the hull like ice placed near the sun. Any marines confined to that section of the vehicle were unable to cry out in pain, dying in mere seconds.

Like its nature demanded, the Thresher Maw burrowed into the ground still intent on pursuing the damaged vehicle with murderous zeal.

"Ground force, what is your status?"

"As good as dead if that Thresher Maw doesn't die!" Shepard cried.

"What is your location?"

Before Shepard could reply, the Thresher Maw erupted from the ground, this time right underneath the vehicle. The Mako was thrust into the air over hundreds of meters, vertigo over-taking the marines.

"OH MY GOD!" The driver screamed as the vehicle impacted the ground.

Black was the last color Shepard saw.

---

Anadius, Horse Head Nebula

Cronos Station

Cerberus Headquarters

The Illusive sat in his elaborately designed chair enjoying roasted Prejek Paddle Fish in the lower terrace overlooking the artificial gardens. His supper was interrupted by the sliding doors, revealing one of the most important strategists in the organization.

"Important news?" The Illusive man asked, taking a napkin and wiping his mouth.

"I would not have interrupted otherwise," Petrovsky said. In his hands, he carried a data slate, which slid across the table.

The Illusive man took it and eyed the contents, nodding his head in approval. "Seems everything went according to plan." He motioned towards the empty chair across him, Petrovsky graciously sitting down.

"Mostly," Petrovsky corrected. "We did our best, but were unable to successfully jam the SPECTRE strike team's transmission to the Alliance."

"But we have received the data regarding Thresher Maw behavior, biology, and combat effectiveness," the Illusive man pointed out. "With this we can begin retrofitting our vehicles and begin research into superior polymers and alloys. Our front company will patent the design and open another stream of revenue." The Illusive man took a sip of salarian Ale. "I presume our affiliation with this tragedy has been discreetly taken care of?"

"Absolutely, all traces of our connection with Nassana had been wiped out three days prior to the event, however there were some complications."

This caught the Illusive Man's attention. "What sort of complications." To any other operative his gaze would have frozen them to their spot.

Petrovsky leaned forward, meeting Illusive Man's steel gaze. "Nassana has begun hunting Prothean artifacts. Some of our intelligence operatives reported she has gotten her hands on an ancient Prothean ship before transmissions were cut."

The Illusive Man inhaled sharply; his frustration well masked. "That is a major setback."

Petrovsky read between the lines. "So, I can deploy operatives and engage in counter-strikes?"

"No," The Illusive Man said, taking another bite of the fish. He chewed for a moment, before taking another sip of the fine drink. He gestured at the container, inviting Petrovsky to take a glass for himself.

"The balance of power is a fickle thing," The Illusive Man explained. "Based on our intelligence reports, a few SPECTRE teams are already hunting for Prothean relics. If Nassana creates an alliance with the Shadow Broker, they will pose a significant risk."

Petrovsky rubbed his chin. The Shadow Broker certainly posed a genuine threat. The infamous, yet enigmatic figure maintained an expansive organization trading in information to the highest bidder. Since secrets sold were never traded to a single customer to gain a significant advantage, it forced customers to continue trading information to avoid becoming disadvantaged, allowing the Broker to remain in business. "We are certainly not going to sit back, now are we?"

"Of course not," The Illusive Man said, serving his general another glass of the salarian alcohol. "But we must proceed carefully."

"Our first step?"

The Illusive Man's eyes twinkled with amusement. "By contacting the Confederacy. No doubt the fledging power will be interested in searching the Attican Traverse for relics of their own."

Seeing confusion appear on his general's face, the Illusive Man explained further. "With the raloi deploying shadow teams in the Attican Traverse, it will free our own resources to search more viable areas such as the Terminus Systems."

"I see." Petrovsky leaned back in his chair, connecting the dots. Nodding in approval, he continued "I also have another grave report."

The Illusive Man raised his eyebrows in curiosity. Leaning forward, he cupped with chin in his palms. "I hope it is not too grave."

Petrovsky shook his head. "Thankfully not. I just wanted to let you know that Operative Rossos was lost during Operation Bait."

"Ah," The Illusive Man said, leaning back with a glass of ale in his hands. "So, it's no major loss." He flicked waved his hand in dismissal.

"I suppose not." Petrovsky agreed.

"I do hope he enjoyed his new assignment while it lasted," The Illusive Man said, toasting Petrovsky. He thought back to the many protests sent to his personal terminal by Rossos, complaining how his talents were being wasted training Cerberus recruits.

'There are more cooperative potential trainers to be found,' he mused. 'Where now. Perhaps I should look to Noveria.'

---

Trivia

1. Here we see the debut of Nihlus and Shepard's background. Based on this you can easily guess the name of the colony.

2. We also have a reference to the Carinfex pistol and it's heavy firepower. It comes as advertised.

3. Nihlus' take down of the guard was based off of ME3 gameplay mechanics.

4. The minor event that occured on Taetrus is brought forth to introduce Victus and his "unorthodox" methods of leading. Truly, a Garrus with a field commission.

5. As shown in the story, Havocs truly earn their name while singing their anthem.

6. The dynamics for the SPECTRE team was based off of Star Wars Republic Commando, where each member has their strength and are unique.

7. Given how rigid turians are, it makes sense for Nihlus to adapt to the new rules of engagment. Unless you're Garrus or Victus.

8. "He who doesn't have a dog, hunts with a cat." Is actually a idiom. It's Portuguese, so if you were intially confused imagine how a race of aliens, who are noted for not understanding human idoms, will be massively confused.

9. The chapter, more specifically the SPECTRE battle, was inspired by Halo 2 Metropolis/Outskirts and Halo 3 ODST ONI Alpha Site.

10. Another reference to Halo is the name of the shuttle, Forehammer.

11. 34.367798 N, -113.60104 E are real life coordinates on Earth of a lake.

12. Maerun references an earlier chapter.

13. I hope I depicted the terror it is to face a Thresher Maw.

14. Of course it was all according to plan, at least in TIM's eyes.