Mass Effect: A Measure of Salvation

by Mal Cobb

With the Reapers closing in, Miranda Lawson understands well the magnitude of the threat. But as she breaks free from Cerberus and navigates the perils of a fracturing Systems Alliance, can she reconcile the operative she once was with the woman who's fallen for Commander Shepard? Rated M for graphic violence, language, and strong sexual situations.

24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24 – Fall of Earth, Part 2

Vancouver, Earth

"Fifteen seconds, Commander," the Kodiak pilot reported over the squad channel.

"Copy that," Shepard said as he brought his Avenger assault rifle up to the ready position, standing at the edge of the troop doors of the shuttle and clipped in by the safety strap.

Shepard and his squad of five other Marines were en route to the downtown sports complex, their Kodiak drop shuttle rocketing along just a few meters off the water and kicking up a long wake behind the heavy craft as it screamed across the harbor.

After blasting off from the staging area at the Alliance Command Center, their flight of shuttles had almost immediately picked up a tail of Reaper Oculus drones. Shepard vividly remembered the damage several of those spherical drones had wrought on the Normandy after they'd made their incursion into Collector space and knew that just one well-placed shot from their particle beams would reduce their ride to little more than a spectacular ball of fire.

The Kodiak just off their port side had met just such a fate; bursting into flames after taking a direct hit before cartwheeling out of control and smashing into a high-rise apartment building, instantly killing every grunt packed inside it.

But their pilot was good and had quickly peeled hard and away from the threats before diving toward the deck, firing off an array of flares and electronic countermeasures, hoping to distract the alien drones. Accelerating past Mach three, they'd shot out a dozen kilometers across the Strait of Georgia, making certain they'd shaken their pursuers, before turning back toward the city.

They were now responding to an urgent call for support by local National Guard units and police defending one of the primary civilian evacuation points within the city, a hastily organized camp and airfield near a major sporting complex. The Reapers had taken notice of the Alliance's efforts to move people out of the city and off-world and were now busy raining down hundreds of troop capsules all throughout the metro area, looking to corral the refuges before they could flee.

Leaving the harbor, the shuttle pilot climbed a few dozen meters and deftly maneuvered the Kodiak into the city, weaving through the streets and among the tall buildings, leaving a cacophony of sky car alarms blaring behind them as the heavy military craft thundered past, rumbling the ground below.

Approaching their drop zone, the pilot dialed down the throttle as Shepard leaned out the squad door a little further and took in the enormous domed stadium looming in the distance. Scanning the area with his battle helmet's advanced optics and sensor arrays, he noted a large evacuation staging point had been organized adjacent to the sporting complex, along the harbor's edge, where civilians were being funneled in from several directions. Nearby, a large, open field had been converted to a makeshift airfield. A procession of Kodiaks and several of the larger, Samaritan class medical shuttles were descending into the landing zone as a stream of civilians flooded in from the downtown residential districts, guided along by the Guard units at the perimeter.

Tracking his gaze north of the stadium, he saw a column of five M29 Grizzly Infantry Fighting Vehicles blockading the main thoroughfare leading into the evac camp. A platoon of Guardsmen was hunkered down behind the IFVs, struggling to hold back wave after wave of Reaper ground forces pouring in from the north and out of several alleyways and side streets.

Raising his rifle to his eye, Shepard upped the magnification of the scope to have a closer look at the hostiles converging on the Guardsmen. He instantly recognized the grayish, synthetic-organic humanoids darting ahead at street level and climbing along the sides of buildings. The Reapers husks had become all too familiar to him in the years since his squad had first encountered the things on Eden Prime.

These husks had likely been exceptionally unfortunate human settlers the Reapers had swept up from the outer reaches of colonized space as they made their push to Earth. As disturbing as they were, they were at least a familiar adversary. The same could not be said for the other Reaper variant he zeroed-in on.

Significantly bulkier than the agile husks, this new enemy moved slower, plodding forward methodically. Like the husks, they appeared made-up of a mixture of organic flesh and cybernetic implants, a series of synthetic tubes snaking through their limbs. With a collection of bulbous sacks on their upper backs, the four distinct eyes betrayed their batarian origin.

When they'd learned of the Reapers advance through Hegemony space, Shepard had briefly speculated over what they might expect to emerge. Looking on as the scene played out on the ground below, it seemed he had at least part of his answer.

He let out a long breath and lowered his rifle, keeping his vision on the advancing enemy below, and keyed his comm unit. "Drop us just west of those Grizzlies, Lieutenant," he called to their pilot.

"Roger that, Commander," the man responded, sounding almost conversational. "Prep for combat drop."

A split second later, the Kodiak banked hard to starboard, diving toward street level before grinding to a halt with abruptness only possible by the oversized mass effect drive that made up a full third of the shuttle's bulk.

Shepard detached the safety strap and jumped out the crew door while the Kodiak hovered a good twelve feet off the ground, landing solidly on the concrete below, legs flexing as the nano-fibers in his armor absorbed the impact with ease.

Vega and the four other Marines followed a moment later, the team's assault rifles sweeping the area as the shuttle's powerful engines whipped up a cloud of dust and debris around them. Then the pilot gunned the Kodiak's thrusters and shot skyward, clawing for altitude before setting up a tight orbit high above the city to provide overwatch for the team below.

They'd set down just two blocks west of the Guardsmen's position and could clearly hear the staccato of rapid fire, light arms a short distance away. But their immediate area was clear and with a quick flick of the wrist, Shepard motioned his squad down the street, moving up an adjacent street to the action taking place beyond the barricade.

Reaching an office high-rise, Shepard led the other Marines through the building's foyer and toward the opposite end of the floor. Keeping low, they found themselves a level above the street where most of the action was taking place, and ducked down under the blown-out windows overlooking the scene.

"Setup and mark your targets," Shepard instructed his Marines. "Let's take this group out quickly and relieve the Guardies. Check your quadrants and make your shots count, ladies and gentlemen."

He then turned to the lone female member of his improvised squad, Corporal Shandahan. She was young, maybe twenty-two, and bore a pair of intricate tribal design tattoos under her eyes. Before takeoff from the staging area Shepard had learned that she was a powerful Vanguard with some highly advanced biotic abilities. The ink on her face likely represented some kind of ancestral heritage the woman identified herself with; otherwise regs would have forbid the tattoos. Whatever the symbols were meant to signify, he concluded that she looked damn mean. "Corporal, think you can disrupt their formation with a shockwave?" he asked her.

The woman gave a curt nod and returned a predatory sneer. "Affirmative, sir. With pleasure."

"Outstanding. Let's make 'em pay for trashing our neighborhood."

Moving with measured, practiced motions, the fire team spread out along the interior walls of the building and took up positions that afforded wide, sweeping views of the street several meters below. Vega, who'd been eager to fire his first shots in anger since lifting off from their staging area, gave Shepard a quick glance and a nod before tucking his Valkyrie assault rifle tight into his shoulder, flicking the selector to full automatic.

Shepard took in his squad's disposition through his helmet's tactical HUD, noting the targets they'd painted with their rifles' advanced scopes, and slowly nodded approval. After months of confinement on base, he couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline and raw anticipation he felt now that he was back in the field and among trained professionals. And after what he'd endured—the crushing guilt he carried over the Bahak incident, the weeks of invasive interrogation tactics at the hands of the SAIS, and, above all else, the loss of Miranda—he now found himself relishing the opportunity to exact a measure of violence against someone.

Harnessing all that pain and frustration, he inhaled deeply, rose up just beyond the threshold of the blown-out window he was crouched under and drew a bead on his target. "Execute."

Four heavy assault rifles roared simultaneously, unleashing a precise barrage of mass accelerated rounds. A millisecond after the first four targets were dropped, Shandahan's shockwave exploded out of her hands, struck the street below, and cascaded down the block and through the column of advancing Reaper troops, tossing a dozen of the grotesque beasts into the air. Before the biotic strike had dissipated, her rifle was back in her grip, adding its lethal projectiles to the hail of gunfire the Alliance Marines were pouring into the kill box.

The chorus of automatic fire that echoed between the tall buildings lasted barely fifteen seconds. But in that brief time, Shepard had emptied a full three thermal clips' worth of slugs, reducing more than a dozen of the enemy troops to bloody, tangled heaps on the pavement. Glancing at the interconnected tactical link his team shared, he saw that the others had accumulated about the same tally of confirmed kills. "Hold fire!" he ordered, recognizing that they'd effectively decimated the opposition.

The other Marines obeyed without delay. Shepard then brought up the local strategic uplink and cycled through the data, looking for the comm channel the local Guard units were using. The suddenness of the Reaper invasion had left little time to fully coordinate with the numerous different armed forces operating around the globe and he doubted the National Guard would easily recognize his team's IFF transponders or have full access to the Alliance tactical networks. After just dropping into the fray, he was keen to avoid being lit up by friendly fire.

"Guard units south of Cambie Street, this is Alliance Marine Commander Shepard. Hold fire. Friendlies inbound, exiting the building forward of your position."

After a brief pause, a gravelly voice responded back over the channel. "Copy that, Commander. Approach with caution. There are still a few of those things twitching in the street."

"Understood. We're coming to you."

Shepard gave a quick signal to the others and leapt out of the window, dropping down to street level. The other Marines were with him an instant later, assuming a diamond formation as they methodically made their way back toward the line of Grizzlies, pausing several times along the way to fire a few final kill shots into the few Reaper troops still moving.

An older officer, probably well over fifty and dressed in heavily worn light battle armor, swung out from behind one of the big armored vehicles and marched purposefully toward Shepard. "Appreciate the help, Commander," he said. "But no offense, I was counting on a little more relief than six Marines. My men are getting slaughtered down here. We're not equipped to be fighting goddamn aliens."

Shepard eyed the man and the several other Guard troops that had emerged from behind the IFVs. Their weapons and equipment were several generations behind what his squad was carrying and were clearly not geared toward operating in an all-out invasion scenario. Shepard sympathized with the Colonel, knowing that he'd likely already seen a number of his men killed by the superior enemy.

"I understand, Colonel. But we're stretched thin all across the city," Shepard said. "I'm afraid this is the best we can we do for now. What's the status of your evac operation here?"

The man scowled back at Shepard, not looking at all satisfied. "We had this neighborhood eighty percent clear before those fuckers rained down on our heads. Most of those civvies are in the staging area behind us, waiting for pickup" he said, jerking a thumb back behind him, toward the sprawling evacuation camp and the airfield beyond the stadium. "I had a full squad cut down while we escorted a group back here." The Colonel shook his head in disgust. "Wouldn't have been much left to stop the enemy from jumping the perimeter and getting into the camp once they pushed past us."

Shepard nodded as he listened to the older man and glanced up at the Grizzly behind him. Like the Guard troopers themselves, the vehicles were outfitted to deal with a significantly less potent adversary than what they were currently facing. The IFVs were a light-duty, urban warfare variant, equipped with duel barrel thirty-millimeter mass accelerator autocannons in the main turret instead of the big 120 millimeter rail guns that the Marines used. The rational for the scaled down firepower was understandable; if you're operating within the confines of a city, it's best not to be firing a weapon capable of taking out a skyscraper's foundation with one carelessly placed round. But at the moment, with enemies that were taller than skyscrapers wreaking havoc across the Vancouver, he found himself longing for the old, durable front-line combat tanks he'd become so familiar with in the early days of his Alliance career.

"How much more time do you need to get the area cleared?"

"Like I said, we were nearly there when things got really hot. The shuttle flights are moving as fast as they can and I've got two heavy lifters inbound now to help pick up the slack. That should take care of the rest of our passengers waiting in the camp. But six of my guys are pinned down near the library up the road, protecting a hundred-plus civvies. They had to fall back and fortify when this group bum rushed us and cut off our column," he said, gesturing toward the piles of dead Reaper troops Shepard's team had left in the road behind them. "We were about to make a push up to their position with the armor when you showed up."

"Leave that to us, Colonel," Shepard said. "Lend me two of your Grizzlies and we'll relieve your guys at the library and escort the civilians back to the evac camp. I suggest you take the rest of your men and equipment and fall back to the next line, closer to the stadium complex. This whole area is going to become unsuitable for human occupation in another twenty minutes."

"Copy that, Commander," the Colonel said and began waving orders to his men. "Good luck."

Shepard gave a nod and keyed back over to his squad's tactical comm. "Viking Six-One, this is Yukon One," he said, signaling to the Kodiak drop ship orbiting high above the city. "We're moving north to retrieve a group of civilians and escort them back on-foot to the evac site. Remain on station as long as possible. We'll call you down once we've completed our delivery run."

"Yukon One, that's a roger. Be advised, the neighborhood is looking mighty unfriendly up ahead in your target zone."

Shepard eyed the tactical map in his HUD and grimaced. While a good deal of the overarching strategic networks and comms were being heavily disrupted by Reaper interference, they were compensating by pulling in data from multiple real-time feeds, including other forces on the ground in Vancouver and their orbiting shuttle's ground-facing sensors. Red "hostile" symbols seemed to be multiplying exponentially in their immediate vicinity and converging on their objective from multiple directions. "Copy that, Viking Six-One. We're hauling ass."

A few seconds later, two of the Grizzlies lurched out of the column and rumbled down the wide city street, Shepard and his Marines forming up on the flanks and trotting along beside the big tanks.

Their objective was only a few blocks away, but as they moved through the downtown neighborhood evidence of the sudden and vicious invasion was everywhere. The front facades of most of the buildings were pockmarked by gunfire or shrapnel. Some were scorched by energy weapon blasts or thermal grenade detonations. A few of the storefronts were completely wrecked and burning out of control. Abandoned and overturned sky cars and buses clogged up intersections. And there were bodies everywhere, too many to count. Miraculously, the power grid was still holding and the whole scene was eerie illuminated in soft yellow light.

As they progressed, the sounds of a steadily intensifying firefight resonated down the street, growing louder with every step. Shepard and the other Marines leapfrogged across the intersections, hugging the walls of the surrounding structures and periodically hammering out short bursts of fire at the husks that came scrambling out of doorways and dark, back alleyways.

Arriving at the last major intersection before the library building, Shepard threw up a clenched fist and issued new orders over the squad channel. He directed the Grizzlies to swing around to the next street over and approach the building from the rear. Within the close confines of the city, the clumsy armored vehicles were most useful as a mobile shelter and defense platform. He'd need them to deliver exactly that once they'd extracted the civilians and began the escort back through the devastated neighborhood.

He then sent two of his Marines up the stairs of an adjacent building to provide fire support from an elevated vantage point. Meanwhile, he, Vega, Shandahan, and PFC Franks dashed forward, weapons clattering against their hard battle armor, and took cover across from the library.

Poking his head around the hood of an overturned sky car, Shepard scanned the area ahead of them, assessing the landscape and allowing his helmet's tactical computer to tag the hostiles clogging the intersection.

There were at least forty Reaper troops advancing on the Guard troops pinned down at the top of the wide stairs leading up to the library building. It was an old structure, but stoutly built. The massive, round stone columns that bracketed the entrance were absorbing terrible punishment as energy beams and shrapnel peppered the ancient building. The street directly ahead was strewn with dozens of dead and dying hostiles as the defenders sprayed the area with small arms fire.

But the Reapers kept coming, seemingly obsessed with reaching the civilians sheltered inside the building.

Shepard pulled a thermal grenade from his harness and then gave the order for his team of obscenely well-armed Marines to add their contribution to the frenzy of noise and smoke engulfing the neighborhood.

In one smooth motion, Shepard swung his body out from around the side of the sky car, took a knee, and hurled the grenade forward through the air in a high arc. He then calmly raised his Avenger, took aim at the nearest hostile, and squeezed the trigger while the incendiary explosive was still in flight.

The grenade landed in the center of the mass of enemies, blowing the legs off two Reaper soldiers and flattening several others nearby. Shepard then zeroed in on the survivors of the blast with his scoped Avenger and picked them off one by one as they scrambled to recover, hitting the creatures with precise head shots.

To his left, Vega was hammering out short, controlled bursts from his Valkyrie, dropping hostile troops left and right. A biotic warp field conjured by Shandahan exploded into existence, ensnaring several of the batarian-like creatures, lifting the things off the ground, as a swarm of rapidly shifting mass effect fields tore their synthetic-organic bodies apart.

More grenades flew forward into the ranks of Reaper troops, the attackers having been thoroughly distracted from their task of reaching the library and shifting attention to Shepard's squad. High above street level, the two soldiers in the adjacent building were raining down full automatic fire, striking down the enemy troops on the outer edges and picking off the few that seemed to possess enough awareness to seek cover.

Decimating more than half the cluster of Reapers within a matter of seconds, Shepard rose up from his crouch and began to methodically walk forward, brushing off erratically aimed return fire and sweeping the area with his rifle. Vega was astride him a second later, the chatter of his Valkyrie echoing against the walls of the surrounding buildings as he poured round after round into the husks that lurched toward them. Shandahan and Franks hurdled out of cover next, falling in line next to the Marine officers, and finishing off the last remaining hostiles.

"Hold fire!" Shepard called out after they'd sanitized the immediate area around the intersection. Glancing up toward the top of the library steps, he saw the Guard troopers cautiously emerge from their cover. They looked exhausted and utterly relieved.

The street in front of the library was littered with the bodies of the Reaper soldiers. Mangled synthetic-organic flesh was everywhere and pools of oddly colored blood and fluids pooled near the gutters.

But even as Shepard surveyed the carnage, he was eyeing his tactical HUD and saw that the respite they'd earned was going to be a brief one. Data from a recon unit deeper in the city was being relayed back through the shared TacNet, clearly indicating another swarm of Reaper troops approaching their position and moving at speed.

"Shandahan, Franks! Fall back to the library, take charge of the civilians, and exfil out the rear with the Guard and IFVs," Shepard ordered. "Take the route back to the stadium I'm designating on your tactical maps. Don't wait for the rest of us. We'll form up the rear guard and follow you back to the evac site on foot."

Spinning around to face the Commander, Shandahan raised her helmet's face shield and gave him a look that was a mix of defiance and disappointment, but stopped short of all-out insubordination.

He almost smiled at the young woman's expression, fully understanding her reluctance to break position and flee from the fight coming down the street. Don't worry, he thought to himself. If you survive this day, you'll get plenty more chances to kill Reapers. "Now, Corporal," he said firmly.

She replied with a curt nod and then stormed up the stairs leading up to the library, Franks in tow, and disappeared into the building with the surviving Guard troopers.

Shepard then swung back around to point his weapon downrange and toggled over to the TacAir channel. "Viking Six-One, we have any available close-air support assets in the vicinity?"

"Affirmative, Commander," their Kodiak pilot responded. "I have a flight of Mantis gunships roaming to the south in sector foxtrot-twelve."

"Outstanding. We've got more than we can comfortably handle down here. I need to buy a bit more time to get the civvies clear. Sending targeting data for you to relay to the gunships."

"Yukon One, copy that," the pilot responded and paused with the channel open. "Targeting data received, but you're awfully close together down there, sir."

"Viking Six-One, have them hit the corner I'm designating and walk their fire up the street north of our position. Danger close and cleared hot!"

"Copy that, Commander. Gun run inbound, ETA thirty seconds. Cover your ears down there."

Shepard and Vega then hurried up the stairs to the library building, hurdled over a series of low, stone walls, and assumed the cover the Guard troopers had just vacated. Farther down the street, the other pair of Marines opened up on the approaching Reaper troops, raining down fire from fifteen stories above street level.

Swinging their rifles out around the massive stone pillars they were kneeling behind, Shepard and Vega began to stamp out a steady, precise rhythm with their assault rifles, picking off the leading elements of the advancing enemy. But soon, there were dozens of augmented batarian soldiers plodding forward, stepping over the fallen Reaper bodies littering the road. Many more husks swarmed out through side streets or scrambled along the exteriors of the buildings, moving with shocking speed and agility.

"Holder, Samuels!" Shepard called out over the din of Vega's assault rifle. "Focus fire on the crawlers on the buildings. The gunships will deal with the tangos on the street."

"Roger that, Commander."

Before they came into sight, a low, warbling rumble announced the arrival of the pair of A-61 Mantis gunships as they streaked down between the tall buildings, rattling the steel and glass walls overlooking the street below. A split second before Shepard heard the hammering report of the chin turret-mounted mass accelerator canons, the ground directly forward of his position exploded into a shower of pulverized concrete, fire, and smoke.

Initiating the strafing run at the leading edged of the approaching Reaper column, the two gunships methodically tracked their fire down the street and obliterated anything unfortunate enough to be standing out in the open before thundering overhead and leaving a dozen high explosive smart bombs in their wake.

Shepard raised his head back above cover as the reverberating detonations shook the ground and debris from the ruined street choked the air. Thick white smoke completely obscured the area ahead of him, but his helmet's advanced sensors cut through the haze and offered up a reasonably clear view of the destruction. The majority of the Reaper troops on the ground had been reduced to only vaguely recognizable bits and pieces, but another group of enemy soldiers farther back down the block were already on the move again.

"Mantis flight, that's a bull's eye. Come around for another pass and sweep the area. We're bugging out."

"Copy that, Yukon One," the Mantis wing leader responded. "Coming around and shifting fire. Keep your heads down, gentlemen."

Shepard briefly tracked the two gunships on his tactical HUD as they throttled up and peeled off to the west before banking hard back around to line up their next pass. He and Vega then exchanged a quick glance and a nod, preparing to abandon their position and move back through the library building, when a violent tremor shook the ground beneath them. Both Marines steadied themselves against the low wall they'd been hunkered down behind and scanned the area for the source of the sudden quake.

Then the tactical overwatch network came alive, their Kodiak pilot's urgent voice sounding in their ears. "Commander! Pull your squad back to the south immediately. You've got—"

Just as the comm uplink cutout into a harsh static, a strange sound filled the air, like steel beams being wrenched and torn, and a shiver ran through the skyscraper further down the street. A second later, the building exploded outward, a huge bloom of red and orange fire piercing the heart of the enormous structure. Shepard and Vega immediately threw themselves back to the ground as their suits' filters kicked in to cut the external audio feed.

Even with the active efforts of their battle armor to preserve their hearing, the booming explosion pierced the Marines' eardrums. A thunderous roar radiated through the ground beneath them as the seventy-story tall building collapsed, engulfing the area for blocks around in a thick cloud of gray smoke and debris. What little remained of the still-active streetlights then cut out and the entire district was plunged into darkness.

But aided by the enhanced vision and sensors of his helmet, Shepard watched in vivid, horrible detail as the Reaper Destroyer emerged from the billowing smoke and plowed ahead through the falling rubble. A barrage of painfully bright red flashes, like a massive strobe lights, erupted from its main gun.

Still sprawled out prone on the ground, Shepard craned his neck to follow the trajectory of the Reaper's energy weapon. The beams laced through the sky and vaporized the two Mantis gunships as they attempted to claw for altitude and clear the scene.

"Holder! Samuels! Displace and fall back," Shepard called out. But it was too late. His eyes flicked over to the squad health metrics and saw that the other two Marines' signals had flat-lined and their tactical feeds were offline. The entire front of the building they'd been perched in had been shorn off during the skyscraper's collapse.

Shepard then pushed himself off the ground, taking hold of Vega's arm to help the other man to his feet as he rose. All around them, debris from the pulverized building was raining down and the air was filled with thick, noxious smoke and the smell of burning electrical components and industrial plastics.

Not more than two hundred meters ahead of them, the fifty-story tall Reaper Destroyer lorded over the devastated Vancouver downtown district.

Shepard stared up at the thing, slowly shaking his head. "Well, shit."

---

SSV Normandy

"I have the shuttle from Olympia on comms, Commander," Traynor called over to the Normandy's XO. "They're accelerating and steering toward an intercept course, requesting permission to dock."

"Denied!" Ashley barked back. "We can't risk picking them up in this. Tell them to turn and run, head for the Enterprise and get clear."

"Aye, ma'am," Samantha replied, her voice unsteady under the chaotic stress of combat, her harness strapped tightly over her shoulders and chest.

At the helm, forward of the CIC, Joker was pushing the big frigate to the limit, maneuvering her violently through the warzone that Earth's orbit and upper atmosphere had become. After less than ninety minutes of active combat operations above the human homeworld, the orbit around the planet had grown cluttered with the shattered remains of Alliance starships, space stations, and satellites.

Ashley, like the rest of the CIC and bridge crew, was strapped into her seat at the XO's station.

The mass effect field that defied space-time and fooled the universe into believing the Normandy possessed only a fraction of its actual mass typically prevented the crew from feeling the effects of the ship's acceleration. But while significant energy from the element zero core was being dedicated to the ship's shielding and barriers, inertial dampeners were incapable of preventing the crew from being jostled around violently during high-stress maneuvers and a full combat atmospheric descent. The "rumble seats," as the crews of frigates and corvettes affectionately called them, extended up from beneath the deck plates during hard maneuvering, rough atmospheric entries, or intense, knife range combat operations.

Leaning forward in her seat, Ashley was glued to the array of tactical screens and external viewing displays, watching with rapt attention as her helmsman bobbed and weaved through the carnage outside.

Two of the new Havoc class corvettes had joined them in their hasty descent toward the surface. But unlike the desperate rescue mission the Normandy was on, the two other fast attack ships had been tasked with disrupting the steady flow of Reaper troop ships firing their capsules down upon the surface of the besieged planet.

Ashley tracked their plots on the tactical display, flicking her eyes across a dozen different data points, when a bright, red flash saturated the external monitors. Looking up to the forward screen, she watched as the two smaller starships were vaporized less than a kilometer ahead of them, the beam of a Reaper capital ship's main gun intersecting their trajectory.

She hissed as the massive Reaper filled her forward-facing tactical vid screen, maneuvering its massive bulk between the Normandy and the Earth.

"You see that, right, Joker?!" She called over the intercom to the bridge.

"Relax! I've got this."

Ashley scowled at Moreau's unnatural composure. But she was also simultaneously grateful—enormously so, in fact—for the steady hand Joker offered at the flight controls. He was a master at the helm of a starship and, at the moment, the crew of the Normandy needed all of his skill to get them down to Earth in one piece.

Banking hard to port, the Normandy quivered as her shields were buffeted by the cloud of fine debris and expanding gasses that a few seconds earlier had been the two Havoc class corvettes. Then Joker sent the ship spiraling into a corkscrew roll, pitching the big frigate away from the enormous Reaper capital ship before gunning the sub-light thrusters and pointing her into a steep dive, streaking through the Earth's upper atmosphere.

Ashley grunted, the high tensile synthetic fiber webbing of her harness straps biting into her shoulders. "What the shit, Joker! I just had her painted."

The sniggering response she got only served to irritate her further. She was about to throw another barb back at her insubordinate pilot when the ensign at the Tactical station called out new contacts.

"Bandits hot on our tail, Commander! I'm reading six—no, check that, eight small drones in pursuit and closing fast. They latched on as we swung past the capital ship."

"Point defense cannons to the ready!"

"Already charged and tracking incoming hostile contacts, Commander Williams," EDI's eternally calm, feminine voice announced. "Cyber warfare and countermeasures suites online and broadcasting active jamming signals."

Ashley glared over at the blue, holographic orb, still feeling bitter toward the ship's computer after it had overridden her orders and sent them on the detour to Earth—and at the direction of Miranda fucking Lawson of all people!

Not that she was opposed to extracting Shepard and Anderson from the planet. She could already see the situation for Earth was beyond hopeless and it wouldn't do a bit of good for either of them to die in vain on the surface. But the way the mission was delivered was more than a little irksome. Infuriating, really.

"Hostile contacts locked, firing solutions ready," EDI said. "Point defense array online and firing."

Outside, the four Goalkeeper close-in defense cannons that had been added at Arcturus Station months earlier roared into action, tracking the incoming targets with EDI's unparalleled precision before pumping out thirty-millimeter slugs at a rate of nearly a hundred rounds per second.

Four of the Oculus drones were blotted out of the sky before they could react. The four survivors fanned out immediately, moving with physics-defying agility as they sought to avoid the sudden barrage of mass accelerated slugs.

A second later, two more drones were reduced to clouds of fine debris as the last pair stubbornly hung on, closing in on their prey. The Normandy took a glancing blow off her starboard hull as the Reaper energy weapons lanced out at them, but the barriers and hardened armor plating of the tough frigate held fast.

When the Normandy punched though below low Earth orbit and into the high atmosphere of the planet, her point defense cannons were still blazing, tracking the remaining Reaper pursuers that buzzed around the ship like angry insects. But the drones were no match for the full might of the Alliance vessel's countermeasures suite. Cycling through thousands of variations in a matter of milliseconds, EDI's jamming signals hit pay dirt, causing the last two drones to briefly falter as they maneuvered. The momentary lapse in acceleration proved deadly as the two Oculus drones exploded under the concentrated fire of the frigate's cannons, briefly lighting up the darkening skies.

"That's the last of them," Tactical confirmed. "We're clear, ma'am."

"Damn, would have been nice to have had those puppies on the other side of the Omega 4 Relay," Joker mumbled over the intercom.

Ashley was about to question Joker's comment as the ship swung down just off the Eastern Seaboard of the United States when new data began to pour in through the military networks, populating her tactical screens. She blinked, shaking her head as she read through the information.

The New York City and D.C. metro areas were awash with angry red hostile markers, including more than a dozen tagged as confirmed capital ship landings. Scanning the map, Chicago and Toronto looked to be just as swamped with Reaper troop pods raining down all along the region. The compiled and summarized strategic comm data made it all too obvious that the homeworld defense forces were being swept aside at every point of engagement, most being wiped out entirely by the overwhelming force of the invaders.

She swallowed and sunk back into her seat, taking in the severity of the disaster. That's it. We've lost Earth.

She wasn't alone in her despair. A tense silence had settled over the CIC as the crew members began to take in the scale of the Reaper invasion, stunned by what they were seeing stream across their screens.

Someone groaned at their station, breaking Ashley from her trance. She unbuckled her safety harness and swept over to the central map and navigation dais, quickly ascending the steps.

"Alright, people. Look sharp!" she commanded, squaring her feet and grasping the railing. "We have people down there depending on us and a mission to complete. I want a full systems check from all stations immediately. That was a rough descent by anyone's standards and it's not going to get any friendlier down there."

Ashley was met with a chorus of "aye, aye's" as the Alliance crew snapped back into disciplined action. She gave a nod, pleased with the response, but still felt her heart in her throat. I have family down there too.

Leveling off at forty thousand feet, the Normandy accelerated to hypersonic speeds, thundering across the North American continent and bound for British Columbia. Most of the U.S. between the Chicagomegatropolis and the west coast was clear of Reaper activity and they were met with no further resistance as they sped toward their destination.

EDI's holo representation appeared again near the Captain's terminal. "Miss Williams, I've accessed Alliance networks in Vancouver and have a lock on Commander Shepard's suit transponder," she announced. "He is currently attached to a Marine squad operating in a downtown district, near a sporting complex being utilized as a civilian evacuation hub. Real-time tactical data indicates he is actively engaged with Reaper troops in the area and assisting local National Guard units tasked with civilian extraction operations."

Ashley cracked a thin smile, knowing that Anderson must have reactivated the skipper the instant things had gone to shit. She nodded toward the computer's hologram and turned to look over at Traynor. "Specialist, can you raise the Commander?"

Samantha Traynor was looking ill, her complexion a light shade of green after the rough drop through Earth's atmosphere. Still, she'd summoned the courage to rise from her seat and was once again standing firm at the Comm Station, diligently hammering away at the keys of her terminal. "I'm attempting to, ma'am," she said. "There's some kind of localized interference jamming our signals. I'm seeing the squad's basic telemetry that EDI accessed, but voice and vid data is being interfered with from something on the surface." She slammed her fists down on the console in frustration. "It's the capital ships on the surface. They're broadcasting some kind of highly elaborate jamming signal. It's scrambling all my communication attempts with Alliance assets on the ground and saturating the entire spectrum."

Damn. Things were chaotic enough without being able to effectively communicate with the other Alliance forces in the region. Then a thought struck her and she shot another look over at her Comm Specialist. "Traynor! Did those Hawkeye drones make it onboard before we left Yeager?"

Traynor frowned and returned her focus back down to her screen, cycling through the ship's manifest. "Aye, Commander. Four drones confirmed received and accounted for in the cargo hold."

"Good. Tell Lieutenant Cortez to break 'em out and prep for immediate deployment. We need eyes and ears over Vancouver."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

Less than three minutes later, as the Normandy breached the outskirts of Vancouver's airspace, four advanced Hawkeye surveillance and electronic warfare drones dropped from the ship's underbelly hatches, engaged their micro-mass effect field generators, and zoomed out over the city. Fanning out, the drones immediately began feeding highly detailed sensor data into EDI's systems, punching through the layers of Reaper interference, as they scanned and cataloged all detectable friendly and hostile activity on the ground.

"Drones taking up station now, Commander," Traynor said. "Linking tactical feeds to our network."

Ashley nodded in acknowledgment but kept her eyes glued to the tactical vid screen. Images were coming in from all over the city now and what was being depicted on her monitor was nothing short of devastating.

The sun had set beyond the horizon, but the city's skyline was still well-lit as thousands of pyrotechnic tracer rounds reached upward from surface-to-air gun emplacements, straining to blunt the onslaught of Reaper troop pods and Oculus drones raining down from orbit. Within the downtown area, whole city blocks had already been leveled as the massive Reaper capital ships lumbered through the streets and along the shores of the harbor, intermittently blasting away the feeble human resistance with their powerful main guns. And all around the perimeter of the metropolis, where much of the Alliance forces had been stationed, the broken hulks of shuttles, small frigates, and armored personnel carriers burned white-hot.

"Approaching Commander Shepard's location, Miss Williams," EDI said. "Hawkeye Zero-Three taking up orbital position over his sector. Initiating tight-beam comm link to his local tactical network."

Ashley glanced up and narrowed her gaze on the drone's telemetry feed being projected on another display but then jerked her head to the right at the sound of her Tactical Specialist's urgent voice.

"Commander! Destroyer class Reaper on the ground and advancing on Commander Shepard's position."

"I see it," Ashley said, gazing intently back at the tactical display to her left. Jesus. Of course I see it… It's the size of my freaking apartment building. "Ready Javelin launchers and get me a targeting solution. I want a full spread on that thing."

"Aye ma'am!"

"And get me Shepard on the comm! This is going to be close."

Ashley gritted her teeth and scowled, a deep, boiling anger settling in her gut as she looked on at the destruction the Reaper's had wrought on her homeworld.

Time to get in the fight.

---

Vancouver, Earth

"Well, this is one fucked up end to the day," Vega said, his gaze fixed on the Reaper planted in the center of the ruined street, a little less than two hundred meters away.

Shepard let out a snort. "Lieutenant, you have a gift for understatement."

The Destroyer was relatively puny when compared to the enormous capital ships wreaking havoc throughout Vancouver. Still, the thing dwarfed nearly every building left standing in the downtown district.

The two Marines then calmly checked over their weapons and equipment and dusted themselves off, refusing to turn and run from the enemy before them, when the TacAir channel again crackled to life in their ears.

"Shepard, this is Normandy Actual," Ashley's voice cut through the static of the comm. "We're inbound and hot to your location. Find some cover and keep your head down."

"Ash?..." Shepard said, hesitating for a fraction of a second before pushing Vega hard, directing the big man over and behind what little cover remained around them.

Diving back behind a low column, Shepard threw himself to the ground next to Vega. A second later, they heard the distant roar of the Normandy's powerful trans-atmospheric thrusters followed by a series of rapid fire sonic booms. Switching to the overwatch tactical link, his eyes went wide as he spotted the six Javelin disruptor torpedoes flash across his HUD, streaking down toward their position. "Christ, she's not fooling around," he muttered. "Incoming ordnance!"

The brace of six javelins soared in toward the Destroyer, moving at incredible speed. In fact, the missiles moved so fast—especially within an atmosphere—that they had more in common with a laser weapon than the simple ballistic projectiles they were based on.

Despite their incredible velocity, a series of blindingly fast bursts from the Reaper's point defense systems reached out and swatted away four of the missiles. But the two remaining Javelins survived the barrage and struck home with a cataclysmic bang that lit up the gloom of the Vancouver evening for miles around and shattered every remaining intact window for at least a ten block radius.

The resulting overpressure wave of the detonation swept over Shepard and Vega, hurling them backward and across the floor, striking the heavy doors of the library entrance amid a storm of dust and superheated debris. If not for their hardened and sealed battle armor, the men likely would have been killed by the blast.

Forward of their position, the Reaper had toppled over from the impact of the missiles and had crashed into another nearby building. Its exterior looked scorched and one of its smaller appendages had been sheared off, but the thing was still largely undamaged.

"I don't know what else we can safely hit that thing with, Shepard," Ashley said. "Firing the Thanix cannons into the city sounds like a very, very bad idea."

Shepard understood Ashley's reluctance to let loose the full arsenal of the Normandy within the closed confines of the metro area. The Thanix weapons system dealt out destructive capabilities of truly epic proportions. Where the Javelins' yield could be dialed down to a more reasonable level, the Thanix projectiles would strike their target with energy impact levels measured in the multi-megaton range. Without risking flattening half the city, using the main guns within the low atmosphere was out of the question.

"Copy that, Normandy Actual, and agreed," Shepard said. "You've bought us time and cleared a path. We're pulling back to the stadium evacuation site."

"Copy that, Shepard. I'm routing a flight of Tridents to the downed Destroyer and requesting they empty their ordnance racks. Don't stop to enjoy the fireworks."

---

SSV John Grissom

"Captain, Olympia Station reports it has sustained catastrophic damage. They're launching escape pods."

Captain Adriana Navarro felt numb as she gazed up at the array of tactical screens in the CIC of her flagship. They'd already lost so much and yet the enemy just kept coming, brushing aside everything the Alliance threw at them.

It was beyond demoralizing; commanding one of the most powerful warships ever devised of by mankind and still feeling impotent in the face of the enemy that confronted her.

A bright, white flash washed out all the external feeds within the dreadnought's CIC and briefly scrambled the numerous tactical displays situated around the compartment. A moment later, the computers reinitialized and the monitors cycled back online as the ship's VI automatically refreshed the critical systems and sensor arrays.

An ensign at one of the primary sensor stations gasped, but the Captain was well past reprimanding her crew for such a show of emotion. Not after what they'd gone through.

"What was that?" Navarro demanded.

The Lieutenant at Tactical swallowed, stunned by what he'd just witnessed on his display, and then finally answered in a hollow sounding voice. "Olympia Station, ma'am. Their core went critical and collapsed in on itself. A massive singularity was created by the event. It's gone… It's completely gone."

Navarro blanched white, but remained stoic for the sake of the CIC crew members gathered around her.

Still, the loss of Olympia was a true disaster. Home of the System Alliance's largest naval shipyard, the enormous station housed almost six thousand permanently staffed men and women. But beyond the horrific loss of life, Olympia also served as the hub for all military logistics in the system as well as maintaining most of the primary tactical and strategic fleet network nodes. If it hadn't been demonstrated clearly enough already, the loss of the station signaled the final death knell of the Alliance's defense of Earth.

"They take any of the enemy with them?" she asked grimly.

"I'm not sure, ma'am. I'm reading one of the capital ships in the vicinity adrift… It might be crippled. It looks like the majority of the enemy kept well clear while they concentrated fire on the station."

Navarro sighed. While it was terrible to lose the station, it had really only been a matter of time before it was taken out. The fleets in place over Earth were steadily being ground to pulp, unable to blunt the overwhelming power of the Reaper assault. It was a rout of staggering proportions and the immobile orbital platforms, like Olympia and Yeager, had no chance whatsoever to survive for long.

The swiftest and most advanced ships of the fleet were managing to remain intact and reasonably combat effective, in a conventional sense, using their superior speed and defensive capabilities. But this fight was by no means something that could be measured in conventional terms. Regardless of a given Alliance ship's advancements, the John Grissom included, remaining in close proximity to the vastly superior Reaper fleet meant eventual destruction. It was only a matter of time.

She'd never forget the sight of the Baghdad maneuvering its bulk between her vessel and that hideous Reaper capital ship closing in on them. The cruiser had taken the killing blow meant for the Grissom, her captain well aware of the necessity to keep the ultra-advanced dreadnought in the fight. Navarro would carry the weight of that crew's sacrifice with her for the rest of her life—however short that might be.

But she and her ship were still alive. They were still in the fight.

In fact, the Grissom had proved to be one of the few Alliance ships capable of giving their enemy pause, her array of Thanix cannons succeeding in disabling two of massive Reaper ships and significantly damaging a third. Perhaps if it had been a fair fight, a one-on-one contest between her proud ship and one of the enormous alien crafts, Navarro's dreadnought might prevail.

But what was happening in the Sol System was far beyond anything that could be considered a fair fight. The Reaper's seemed capable of unleashing an unlimited amount of destructive power and seemed oblivious to the meager losses that the Alliance had managed to inflict upon them.

Navarro had kept note of every Alliance ship they'd lost so far, their names emblazoned on her memory: The Munich, Baghdad, Saipan, Valley Forge, Fuji, and a dozen other frigates and cruisers. They were some of the most powerful ships in the Navy's arsenal, hardware that was irreplaceable and utterly indispensable in a conflict of this scale. And then there were the men and women aboard those doomed ships. Thousands gone in a blink of an eye, all of them equally as precious and vital as the vessels they crewed.

Her Tactical officer's urgent tone stirred Navarro from her dejected thoughts, pulling her back to the duty at hand.

"Captain! I'm detecting orbital bombardment fire from a group of the enemy dreadnoughts. Detonations in the multi-kiloton range confirmed in the Fort Worth metroplex and Hamburg, Germany." Lieutenant Anders swung around in his chair to face Navarro. "They're targeting major industrial hubs and military installations, ma'am." He paused a moment, interpreting new data coming in across his station. "Pegasus is directing a flight of Tomahawks loaded with anti-ship ordnance to disrupt them."

"What do we have left nearby to help cover their approach?"

Anders leaned back into his scope, rapidly cycling through data. "Three Havoc class ships are operational and in the vicinity."

Navarro cringed. She'd never liked the idea of dusting off the old corvette-class plans and putting those ships into service and expecting them to last long enough to make any difference. They sacrificed a great deal of rugged protection and lacked the overall firepower of a frigate. But they were cheap, fast and could be manufactured quickly.

"Coordinate with the CAG onboard the Pegasus, let him know the plan."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"Ma'am, I have a priority message on the QEC from Admiral Anderson," the Comm Specialist announced.

Navarro gave a quick nod to her XO, alerting him that he'd have the bridge for the moment, and immediately swept out of her chair and into her ready-room.

Admiral David Anderson's haggard image flickered into life a second later. His expression was grim, but determined. "Captain Navarro, I'm ordering you to pull the remainder of your battle group back and prepare to screen for the evacuee flights lifting off from Earth. You're to provide cover during the airlifts and then escort them out of the system, avoiding the relay. Charon is not secure. I'm transmitting rally point coordinates and all the necessary codes now."

The orders hit her like a sucker punch to the gut. But she couldn't exactly say the news was a surprise. It had been less than two hours since their guns had first fired in anger and since then they'd lost more than sixty percent of the Alliance fleet assets and nearly all of the major orbital platforms. It was a rout, simple as that, and the logical part of her knew they'd lost the battle for Earth the moment the Reapers had emerged through the Charon Relay.

Still, the stubborn, proud and irrational side of her wasn't ready to quit. "Admiral, my ships are still combat effective. We can still fight."

"Captain," Anderson said, his tone firm, "Admiral Caine is dead. He went down with the Tai Shan and half the Fourth fleet while attempting to relieve the First. We've lost contact with Admiral Lindholm but believe at least part of her force is still intact near Charon." He drew in a long breath and gave her an understanding look. "Look, we can both see what's happening here. You've done a helluva job up there, but now I need you to withdraw. We're gathering every FTL capable ship we can scrounge up and cramming them full of men, women, and children. It is vital that they're protected. They're in your charge now, Adrianna."

Navarro stood rigid as she gazed back at the holographic image of Admiral Anderson, resigning herself to the reality of their terrible situation. "I understand, Admiral. We won't let those bastards get near them."

"Do not let your ships get pinned down," Anderson said. "I need you to live to fight another day, Captain."

"What about you, sir? We need to keep you in this fight too."

"Don't worry about me, Adrianna. I have my own—"

Navarro blinked as the QEC link suddenly cut out, the holographic image and audio transmission vanishing abruptly. She glanced down at the control terminal; quickly assessing the link had been lost at the source, and stormed back into the CIC. "I lost the transmission from Vancouver."

"Captain, detecting Homeworld Defense just sustained a major hit from hostile capital ships on the ground. I've lost all the real-time feeds and can't raise anyone in the Command and Control facility."

Navarro swore, feeling she'd had just about all the bad news she could handle for one day.

"We've received flight plans and civilian vessel transponder codes, ma'am," the Comm officer said. "The first several dozen ships are already breaking upper atmosphere, heading for the designated rally point. Mostly mid-sized starliners and cargo haulers."

"Very well. Share that data with the rest of the task group and lay in an intercept course for the civilian flights, maximum sub-light."

---

Civilian Evacuation Camp, Vancouver

Ashley gripped the arm rests of the shuttle's co-pilot seat, Lieutenant Cortez at the flight controls to her left, and gazed out the external view monitors. Night had long since fallen over Vancouver but the skies were alive; lit up so brightly it might as well be two o'clock in the afternoon.

Flashes from countless explosions were painting the landscape with eerie splashes of bright red, orange, and white. Tracer rounds revealed the steady thumping rhythm from the air defense emplacements scattered throughout the city, reaching up to meet Reaper troop pods falling from orbit and the Oculus drones swarming overhead. And all around them, Alliance fighters, gunships, and shuttles screamed by, threading the needle through the chaotic airspace.

Ashley took it all in, struggling to stay calm and focused while she watched her homeworld burn. But still, part of her was desperate to reach the surface and personally take part in the defense of Earth.

And regardless of what that fucking computer had to say about it, she wasn't risking setting the Normandy down in the mess that was the hastily organized evacuation zone. Instead, after they'd dropped their ordnance on the Reaper Destroyer that had nearly cooked Shepard and Vega where they'd stood, she'd ordered the frigate up above the worst of the unfriendly skies and left Chief Adams in command.

When she had swept down onto the crew deck and collected the two Marine guards that had escorted Joker onboard just a few hours earlier, Privates Westmoreland and Campbell looked almost obscenely giddy for the opportunity to suit up in full battle kit and accompany her on her errand.

She understood. The mess hall of a naval vessel was no place for any self-respecting soldier to be stuck in when the enemy was busy slaughtering your species on the ground. She didn't know these women, but she didn't need to. They were Alliance Marines and, at the moment, the only other trained and capable ground combat troops on-board the Normandy.

A few minutes later, Ashley and the other two Marines were suited up, armed to the teeth, and as ready as was reasonably possible to face whatever they'd meet planetside. They piled into one of the Kodiak's and rocketed out of the Normandy's cargo bay, streaking toward the Earth—and Shepard.

Jostled hard by another nearby explosion, she shot Cortez a furtive glance. It felt like they were free-falling down an elevator shaft as the Lieutenant pointed their craft sharply downward and gunned the thrusters. All the while, the ungainly shuttle bucked and dodged to avoid a seemingly infinite amount of threats zooming by around them.

Ashley had been through hundreds of simulated combat drops, a dozen live-fire descents, and more terrifying drops in a Mako than she cared to remember. A career with the Systems Alliance Marines demanded that you become, more or less, comfortable—or, at least, tolerant—with being subjected to the most extreme conditions survivable by human beings. But regardless of her broad experience, she always felt much more natural with her boots solidly on the ground of a normal gravity world.

Still, Ashley could recognize a skilled pilot when she saw one. Cortez looked about as confident and at home at the flight controls of the big Kodiak as Edge did behind the stick of his shiny new Tomahawk space superiority fighter. She watched as he calmly assessed the data streaming across the shuttle's HUD, effortlessly taking in the threats while he continuously adjusted their course and heading, dodging the swarms of Oculus drones and sporadic bursts of ground-to-air fire. The mass effect field generators were redlined, full against their thresholds, but she couldn't detect the slightest hint of perspiration on her pilot's forehead. In fact, she swore she could see a subtle little smile curling his lip.

Combat pilots, she thought, shaking her head. They are one seriously fucked up breed.

Ashley glanced back to the TacNet display, pleased that Shepard's IFF transponder was now coming in strong and steady as they approached their landing zone. Three of the Hawkeye drones had been re-tasked to fan out over the city and provide surveillance and comm support to the various military units scattered all over Vancouver. The fourth was orbiting directly overhead the civilian evac zone, feeding highly detailed recon data to the shuttle and relaying it back up to the Normandy. Without the ability of the cutting-edge drones punching through the Reaper jamming signals, the battle raging over the city would have resembled something closer to a mid-twentieth century air conflict—before the age of advanced radar technologies.

Cortez pushed hard on the stick one last time, sending them into a steep dive, before leveling off abruptly just a few dozen meters off the ground and coasting in the final few feet at a low angle. Kissing the dirt gently with the heavy shuttle's skids, he brought them to rest along the outer perimeter of the evacuation zone, near a caravan of supply vehicles and temporary pre-fab shelters.

Ashley was already unbuckling her harness and rising from her seat before the Kodiak had come to full stop. Climbing over the center console, she gave Cortez a firm pat on the shoulder, grabbing her battle helmet from the rack as she went. "Nice work, Lieutenant. Keep the engine running. We won't be long."

"Aye, Commander."

Stepping back into the troop compartment, Ashley saw that Campbell and Westmoreland had already secured their helmets and had their assault rifles at the ready, pointing the Avengers out the troop door as it slid open. With Ashley in the lead, the three women were out the door an instant later and setting a fast pace as they crossed the field.

The evacuation zone was an armed compound. A dozen Grizzly armored Infantry Fighting Vehicles were lined up along the main boulevard running parallel to the expansive area adjacent to the huge sports arena, turret-mounted cannons pointed toward the city beyond. The engines of several Mantis gunships vibrated the ground as they idled nearby, support crews rushing to re-arm the deadly close-air support craft. Farther out, near the edge of the harbor, a small fleet of Kodiak and Samaritan class shuttles were ascending and descending from the makeshift airfield. Even several large heavy lifters, the kind that were typically used to transition materials to and from the surfaces of colony worlds, were standing at the ready, waiting to receive what looked like an endless stream of refugees.

The people were pouring into the camp from multiple points, all seeking refuge from the chaos that had erupted within the city's downtown business and residential districts. They were directed along and queued up for evacuation by more than a hundred regional National Guard troops who were clearly struggling to maintain order over the situation.

Ashley found herself drawn to the frightened, bewildered faces of the civilians. After moving through the urban warzone, most of them were covered with dust and grime. Many were bleeding or injured in some way or another. And nearly every one of them appeared to be in a state of total shock, their eyes wide and glazed over.

She caught herself irrationally scanning the faces in the crowd for her mother and sisters. But that was the raw emotion working. She knew full well that her family was nowhere near Vancouver. They were far from here, across the country. She prayed they were safe but there was nothing more she could do to help them—not now, at least. Ashley forced the thoughts from her mind, pushing the anxiety deep down into that place where soldiers had to keep such things.

Flanked by Westmoreland and Campbell, Ashley waded through the crowds of civilians and soldiers until she finally spotted the man she'd come for. Shepard was standing next to a National Guard colonel, indicating something on a data tablet as he pointed across toward the airfield and the fleet of orbiters idling in the distance. The three men were surrounded by more than a dozen other Marines and Guardsmen.

Pulling off her battle helmet and cradling it under her arm, she watched Shepard apprehensively for a brief moment, the image of their last encounter on the Alliance base's training field fleeting across her memory. That day, when she'd provoked him into nearly taking her head off at the mere mention of the Lawson woman's name, he'd been a shadow of his former self; bitter, disillusioned, and demoralized by the months of incarceration.

But now, amid the chaos of the invasion, her former skipper looked every ounce the man she'd known before the Normandy SR-1 was destroyed high above the skies of Alchera. The same effortless composure and unwavering determination that had once defined him was now fully back on display. Every soldier within earshot was drawn to him. In the face of an enemy of unspeakable power, and as their world crumbled around them, they seemed calmed and focused by his presence. And while there may have been more senior officers present in this improvised military camp, there could be no question about who was really in charge.

It was that same aura of near invincibility that had captivated her so thoroughly the first time she'd met him years ago on Eden Prime. And seeing that man back now, emerged from the browbeaten prisoner he'd been just days earlier, even Ashley allowed her heart to briefly soar. They may have been surrounded by unprecedented levels of violence and suffering, but, with Shepard there, it seemed as if a sliver of hope could be salvaged.

"Shepard!" Ashley called out, pushing past the perimeter of Guard soldiers.

Shepard looked up from the tablet and nodded before handing it back to the Colonel. "Ash," he said. "Thanks for the assist back there, but you picked one helluva shitty neighborhood to visit this time of night. What brings you?"

"You, Shepard. My orders were to fall in with the Ninth once the Reapers emerged through the relay, but the damn Cerberus computer onboard the Normandy wasn't having it. It locked us out of Nav and Helm and plotted a course straight for your location. Insisted that you needed to be extracted."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "EDI?" he said, shooting Ashley a puzzled look before seeming to brush the thought aside. "Forget it. I'm not going anywhere. The fight's here and we've got a lot of people left to get clear. Command structure's shot to hell too. Comms beyond the localized tactical channels are completely fucked."

Ashley grimaced, totally unsurprised by Shepard's reluctance to pull back from the action. "I know. I've got four surveillance drones fresh from the Alliance Skunk Works orbiting over the city. They're one of the few platforms capable of cutting through the Reaper jamming signals."

"Good. I need you to re-task them to these sectors," he said and quickly accessed his Omni-tool, punching in commands. "Air defenses are concentrated over this location and a half dozen other evac sites scattered around the city. But the perimeter is already collapsing. The capital ships and smaller Destroyers are beginning to converge, looking to cut off the civilian escape routes. And their ground troops are moving through the streets at ridiculous speeds. We can't hold them for long."

"Got it," she said, accepting the new data on her own Omni-tool and relaying back up to the Normandy's CIC.

Shepard nodded. "How are things in orbit?"

"Not good, Shepard. They completely overwhelmed us. Yeager and Olympia are gone, along with half the Ninth and Fourth fleets."

"We weren't ready for this. Not by a long shot."

"Jesus, Shepard. How could we have been? You should have seen our tactical screens, washed over with a sea of bright fucking red hostile plots," Ashley said, shaking her head. "They just kept coming."

"I know," he said. "I was with Anderson in Command Ops. We're trying to clear the city as quickly as possible. It won't be long before they seal off the whole damn system."

Lieutenant Vega then loped up, battle armor rattling and assault rifle visibly smoking from the heat of countless rounds expended. "Commander Williams," he said, spotting Ashley and giving a quick smile. "Welcome to the party."

"Lieutenant," she said. Good God, he looks like he's actually enjoying this.

"Commander," Vega said, turning back to Shepard. "We've got some serious company approaching the northern perimeter. Shandahan and Franks are organizing the defense, moving some of the Grizzlies to blockade the street, but we won't be able to hold them long."

"How many inbound?"

Vega shrugged. "Uh, looked like just about all of them, Commander. My tactical computer stopped tagging them effectively once the number got north of five hundred."

A flash of bright red light then suddenly illuminated the area, followed a second later by a sharp crack of thunder.

Shepard, Ashley, and Vega all instantly jerked their heads toward the origin of the flash and looked out across the evac camp, toward the other side of the harbor. A massive roar came next, like the sound of an ancient freight train rushing across the tracks.

Across the bay, a hundred and fifty-story skyscraper had been obliterated by the main gun of a Reaper capital ship and was collapsing to the ground, an enormous cloud of smoke and debris billowing outward and blotting out the city lights beyond the ruined building. A chorus of alarmed, stunned voices swept across the civilian crowds as they stared out in disbelief, the scene too surreal and awful for them to fully process.

Then, emerging from the gloom, the two kilometer tall Reaper came into view. It moved through the remains of the building, brushing aside a deluge of cascading debris, and plunged one of its enormous legs into the harbor as it began to advance across the water and toward the evacuation camp.

The shouts of alarm intensified, but were then abruptly cut off when a piercing, ear-splitting horn sounded and drowned out the terrified voices. The Reaper's cry was a visceral thing, shaking the ground and reverberating through Ashley's chest.

Instinctively, she pressed her hands against her ears and cringed, shrinking before the awful, thunderous noise. Uncontrollable tears welled up in her eyes and her mouth went dry. To her right, she saw that Westmoreland and Campbell, along with the rest of the soldiers gathered around, were all in a similar state of terror. Then a second Reaper appeared a short distance away and began to follow the first across the water, moving with the same lumbering, irresistible gait.

Only Shepard appeared unfazed by the appalling spectacle. He was gazing out toward the two Reapers, scowling as the two enormous ships advanced on them. Then he marched over and took hold of the Guard Colonel, shaking him back to his wits. "Get these crowds moving and into the lifters!" he shouted. "Pack them in, if you have to. We need to get these ships airborne and off-world. We're out of time!"

Snapping herself out of her own state of barely contained terror, Ashley ran back over to Shepard, looking to him for direction.

He held up a hand to stop her as he listened to a transmission coming over his radio. "Copy that. Fall back to the second line. We're coming to you." He then faced Ashley again. "Outer perimeter just fell. The camp will be overrun before we have time clear it. Come on!" Then he was off, dashing back toward the north end of the evac camp with Vega at his side.

Ashley swore, quickly collected the two Marines she'd come with, and took off after Shepard and Vega, thrusting her helmet back on top of her head as she moved.

She was moving at a full sprint as she yanked her assault rifle free from the bracket on the back of her armor and double-checked for a full clip's worth of ammo. Racing along a long walkway bordering the arena complex, through stacks of polycarbonate modular supply crates, she quickly found the local TacNet Shepard was linked into and accessed the channel. Her own tactical computer then lit up with fresh enemy contacts, directly forward of the position they were rushing to reinforce.

Turning the corner, Ashley saw with her own eyes what had prompted the urgent call for help. Just beyond a line of hastily placed concrete barriers, a hoard of Reaper ground troops was flooding the main boulevard.

There were two Marines up ahead, crouched behind the barrier with another half dozen Guardsmen, firing into the nightmare pressing in on them. Several Grizzly IFVs were burning nearby, thick noxious smoke billowing out from their engine and troop compartments.

Ashley hustled the last few meters and threw herself down behind one of the barriers before sighting her weapon downrange.

She immediately recognized the familiar humanoid husks she'd encountered years before. There were hundreds of them, moving forward with exaggerated, revolting movements, rushing up along the street toward the crude barriers. Glancing upward, she saw that the sides of the buildings lining the street were literally crawling with the things, scampering along the outer walls. The sight made her skin crawl in her armor.

But then she saw the other creatures that apparently represented the heavy firepower of the advancing enemy. They were vaguely batarian-looking, with oversized mouths and bulbous sacks protruding from their backs. Ashley felt her stomach lurch when she tracked the report of an energy beam back to its source and saw the thing's cannon appeared to be encased in what was clearly a human corpse. The image was disturbing on a scale almost too extreme for her mind to process.

Then her training and discipline kicked in, pushing aside the emotion before an almost sublime sense of focus washed over her. "Engaging," she calmly announced over the squad channel.

Her rifle sang as she pulled the trigger, dropping the first creature she'd scoped with several rapid bursts of fire. She then moved on to another of the corrupted batarian creatures and deposited the remainder of her rifle's magazine into the thing's center mass and head.

To her right, Westmoreland and Campbell had joined her, firing downrange with their Avenger rifles, fresh off the racks of the armory racks of the Normandy, sweeping the street ahead with full automatic fire.

Energy beams sizzled all around them, striking the front of the barriers, the hulls of the ruined Grizzlies, or simply sailing high over their heads. Shepard and Vega had formed up nearby, adding the full weight of their personal arsenals to the fray. It was madness.

Ashley dropped a fraction lower as she pulled a thermal grenade from her harness, thumbed off the safety, and tossed it ahead. "Grenade out!"

Her call was answered with a chorus of others as troops all along the line hurled high explosive charges into the wave of Reapers rushing toward them. She ducked down as a rapid fire series of explosions rang out, shaking the ground and engulfing the street with fire and shrapnel.

Slapping a fresh clip into her weapon, Ashley elevated again and continued to fire. There was an endless supply of targets and she simply switched off her helmet's auto-targeting assist function, the tactical screens far too saturated with the enemy plots to provide any real advantage at such an up-close and personal range.

She dropped another dozen hostiles. And then another dozen more after that—husks scurrying along the sides of buildings, attempting to flank them. But still they came, wave after hideous wave.

Her comm then crackled to life in her ear. "Commander Shepard, Air Cav Flight Gargoyle Two-Five inbound and hot. Commencing gun-run in five seconds."

"Copy that, Gargoyle Two-Five. Don't be stingy with your load-out."

"Roger that, Commander. Keep low down there. It's going to get warm."

There was no need for Ashley to pull her attention away from the Reaper soldiers pressing in on them or pause her firing. Her suit's VI-assisted HUD immediately tagged the IFF of the inbound Dragonfly assault shuttle as it swooped in to make its strafing run. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted a quick flash of icons representing the fifty-two micro-guided missiles streaking ahead of the ship at hyper-sonic speed.

An instant later, the lethal projectiles struck forward of her position, producing a wave of cascading explosions that rolled more than a hundred meters up the wide street. Ashley and the rest of the troops hunkered down behind the barriers dropped even lower, allowing the overpressure wave to pass, and then immediately popped back up to resume firing.

A wide swathe of destruction had been carved out along the boulevard, leaving a deep gash of melted, smoking concrete and the mangled remnant of countless Reaper troops. But still a few got back up from where they'd been thrown to the ground—some missing limbs or torn half to shreds—and continued to fire and advance. A moment later, the Dragonfly screamed overhead and arched around, bringing its door gunner's autocannon to bear.

"Commander, you've got another wave of hostiles imminent to your position but my racks are empty. Suggest you displace and fall back a-sap."

"Copy that, Gargoyle Two-Five. We're bugging out now."

The Dragonfly hosed down another long swath of Reaper soldiers, exhausting what remained of the door gunner's ammunition, gave a quick tip of its stubby wings, and rocketed back out toward the harbor.

"Fall back in order," Shepard shouted over the comm.

Ashley expended yet another magazine's worth of slugs downrange, grabbed the two Marines she'd come with, and then fell back down the way they'd originally come before taking up a new firing position.

The Guard soldiers and Marines followed in a bounding overwatch movement, Ashley, Westmoreland and Campbell covering their retreat. Shepard and Vega were the last to abandon the compromised defensive line, hurling another pair of grenades as they went. The mixed group of Marines and Guardsmen then hurried back down an adjacent alleyway, putting distance between themselves and the pursuing enemy.

Then, after swinging around another corner, Ashley heard a screeching, hissing sound as two Reapers popped up from behind a nearby burning sky car. She raised her rifle and fired a quick burst into one of the creatures, reducing its head to a mushy pulp and tearing its gun arm clean off. But the second Reaper managed to fire a wide, lacing arc with its energy cannon.

Ashley dove to the ground, but one of the Guard troopers following was hit in mid-stride, bisecting the man at the torso and instantly killing him. Campbell raised her rifle an instant too late and was caught with a glancing shot. She gave a cry as she was spun around and sent flying back into a collection of crates and trash containers.

One of the Marines that had been following then hit the creature with a deafening biotic strike, sending the thing hurling backward against the brick wall of a building. Ashley and Westmoreland finished it with a barrage from their assault rifles, shredding the Reaper as it was pinned against the wall by the dark energy field.

Watching the thing slump to the ground, Ashley let out a breath and then rushed over to where Campbell had landed.

Ashley was sure the girl must have been dead when she reached her motionless, smoking form. But then she recognized that Campbell's vitals were still in the green on her squad's health monitoring HUD. But the Reaper weapon had done a horrendous job along her side, melting or vaporizing away a significant chunk of her armor. Ravaged, charred flesh was visible underneath.

Shepard came bounding up a moment later. "She alive?"

Ashley swallowed and gave a quick nod. "Yeah, but out cold," she said, applying a generous dose of Medi-Gel to the girl's wound.

"Let's get her up," he said. "James!"

Vega rushed over and the two men lifted Campbell off the ground, draping her between them with an arm over each shoulder, and then continued down the alley. The rest of the group formed up around them, Ashley taking the lead as they made their way back to the airfield.

"Cortez!" Ashley shouted, switching back to the Normandy's squad channel. "We're falling back to the airfield and need pickup. We've got wounded."

"Copy that, Commander. Dusting off. I'll meet you at the edge of the field, as close as I can get to your exfil route. Be advised the last of the civilian evac flights are lifting off now. All that's left on the ground are the last few Guard platoons and their rides."

"Copy!" she shouted back breathlessly, glancing back over her shoulder at Campbell's lifeless body draped between Shepard and Vega. "Hurry up."

A few moments later, the beleaguered group of soldiers hurried back up along the pathway adjacent to the stadium. Ashley jogged a few meters ahead, sweeping her rifle's muzzle left to right, checking every dark corner that might conceal another ambush.

Emerging from the alleyway and out onto the edge of the evacuation staging area, Ashley could see that the huge stadium dome had taken a hit, either from Reaper fire of falling debris, and was burning out of control. Looking east, she saw the Kodiak streaking toward them, hugging the deck and kicking up a rooster tail of dirt and debris behind it.

Farther out in the distance—but much closer than before—the two enormous Reaper capital ships continued their irresistible march across the harbor. They fired intermittently toward the skies and out into the city as flights of Tridents and Tomahawks buzzed around them, valiantly attempting to slow their advance. To Ashley, the tiny fighters seemed little more than gnats circling gigantic animals. Still, she couldn't deny the courage of the pilots. She wondered if Nick was up there, struggling to find a way to punch through the thick hides of the Reaper invaders. A pang of concern welled up within her at the thought and she had to suppress the sudden urge to tap into the fleet air defense comms and find out if he was still alive. Instead, she pressed forward and secured her team's extraction point.

The camp's airfield was empty. A few AA gun emplacements on the perimeter still continued to thump out a steady rhythm of fire, but little else of the military presence remained. The shuttles and smaller starliners tasked with ferrying civilians out of the camp and up into orbit had already gotten well clear of the area. But two of the huge heavy lifters were still lumbering away, clawing for altitude as their thrusters strained against their heavy loads.

Cortez swooped in and brought the Kodiak to an abrupt halt a few meters away, just at the edge of the alleyway Ashley and Shepard's group had just emerged from. The troop doors were already open as the shuttle's skids hit the field.

Several other Kodiaks were lined up along the perimeter of the nearly abandoned evac camp. As the rest of the group formed-up on Ashley's position, the surviving Guard soldiers peeled off and rejoined the remainder of their outfit, piling into the troop compartments of their eagerly awaiting shuttles.

Glancing back, Ashley saw Shepard help Vega carefully place the wounded Campbell onto the shuttle's troop deck as the other Marines thundered into the compartment around them. Then another bright flash lit up the night sky, painting her silhouette against the Kodiak's hull.

Ashley jerked her head back around to find the source and gave an involuntary cry of dismay. "Oh God!"

One of the heavy lifters had been sliced clean in half by a Reaper main gun and had erupted into a huge ball of orange and white fire. The shattered wreckage of the doomed ship was already raining down onto the open field below while one of the main engines broke loose and shot across the sky before splashing down in the harbor half a kilometer away.

Ashley watched the scene in horror; feeling paralyzed to act and knowing there had probably been more than five hundred souls aboard the disintegrating craft.

Then Shepard was at her side, staring out across the field that was now ablaze with fiery debris. "Come on," he said quietly through the suit-to-suit comm, placing a hand on Ashley's shoulder. "It's time to go."

The two then ran back to the Kodiak and leapt into the troop compartment a moment before Cortez goosed the thrusters and sent the craft shooting away from the airfield, skirting the rooftops before climbing higher into the Vancouver sky.

Ashley threw herself down heavily into one of jump seats next to Vega, adrenaline still pumping through her veins but feeling deflated by the horrific loss of life she'd just witnessed. She looked down at Campbell, splayed out on the shuttle's floor, a pool of blood forming beneath her. Westmoreland and one of the other Marines she didn't know were crouched over her body, frantically working to stabilize her with the trauma kit from the Kodiak.

Looking up, she saw that Shepard had removed his helmet and was holding on to one of the safety straps at the still-open troop door, gazing out at the fires burning throughout the city. His expression was unreadable.

Then the tactical network came alive with a priority burst transmission, flashing across Ashley's HUD and through her earbud. "All units, all units, Homeworld Defense Command and Control has sustained heavy damage and is offline. Say again, strategic command has been compromised. Assume defensive postures and divert resupply operations to your designated secondary FOBs. Standby for new orders."

Shepard immediately swung away from the open troop door and pushed his way through the narrow passage to the cockpit. "Get us to Homeworld Command," he ordered. "Right now."

"You got it Commander. Hold on."

The Kodiak banked hard to right and Cortez gunned the heavy thrusters yet again, accelerating across the city.

Ashley looked on; feeling nailed to her seat, and let out a ragged breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Turning to gaze out the open door, she watched the city's skyline, dotted with countless fires, pass by in a blur.

At that moment, she realized that the Earth she'd known was truly gone and lost to an enemy that she had no idea how to stop. The sudden rush of despair was nearly crippling, but still she stubbornly beat the feeling back.

This was only the beginning of the fight, she told herself. She had no idea how they'd do it, but she knew they'd find some way to win this war.

And I'll do my part. Or die trying.

---

Vancouver, Former Site of Alliance Homeworld Defense Command

They reached their destination in just over a minute.

Prior to the Reaper invasion, the Alliance Homeworld Defense Command Headquarters had been a sprawling, almost awe-inspiring campus of pristine, elegantly constructed buildings and elaborately designed airfields and docking facilities. Now, the base looked like little more than a smoldering pile of rubble. Every structure taller than a few stories had been leveled and several shuttles and larger troop transports were fully ablaze on the primary military tarmac.

Cortez made a high pass above the compound, banking the Kodiak into a tight spiral turn to give the team a clear look. Shepard stood at the edge of the troop door, surveying the damage. Farther away to the north, the massive Reaper capital ship that had annihilated the base was still visible as it moved off, no doubt heading for its next priority military target.

But, at this point, he knew there wasn't really all that much left of the defense apparatus in the Vancouver region for the Reapers to chase down. Most of the units that had been dispersed throughout the city had either succumbed to the Reaper advance and were in full retreat or had been totally destroyed. Some had been dispatched to help shield the civilian flights that were trying to get clear of the war zone. What few units that were left on the ground were now just simply trying to survive, dig in, and wait for direction from the crippled command and control system.

Vega stepped up to the door next to Shepard. "Holy hell," he said. "That looks bad, Commander."

Shepard simply nodded. He then sensed Ashley's presence behind him as she approached to take in the scene. She remained silent, shocked to the core at seeing her most recent post wiped off the face of the Earth. He knew she was struggling to accept the scope of the Reaper assault. Hell, they all were. Even him.

Still, her familiar presence at his side was somehow comforting. She reminded him of a simpler time—a time before he fully grasped the truly horrible nature of the Reapers.

"Looks deserted for the most part, Commander," Cortez said over the comm. "I'm reading some movement on the perimeter, but there are too many fires burning and other electronic interference in the area to get a solid thermal lock. Could be friendlies or hostile."

"Understood," Shepard said. "Set us down in the courtyard to the west, near the command bunker."

"Copy."

Cortez put the Kodiak into a gentle portside turn and dropped down toward the deck, setting them down in a relatively clear area between two enormous piles of smoldering rubble.

Shepard, Vega and Ashley all jumped out just before the shuttle's skids touched down and advanced toward the point where the Command and Control facility had once stood.

Shandahan and Franks joined them on the ground, fanning out in opposite directions to secure their landing zone and provide security for the vulnerable Kodiak. Westmoreland remained in the shuttle to look after Campbell. The wounded Marine had been stabilized but was in desperate need of advanced medical care.

Shepard moved forward, weapon at the ready, leading Ashley and James through the narrow gaps in the rubble that snaked through the base. He'd left his helmet behind, opting for the more minimalist tactical visor. The air was acrid and smelled toxic, smoldering insulation and industrial plastics permeating the entire site.

They'd re-tasked one of the Normandy's drones to orbit the area and provide overwatch. The Hawkeye was also bringing its powerful suite of ground-facing sensors to bear on the ruined command base, relaying data back to the team's TacNet.

"I'm getting some weak Alliance IFF transponder signals from up ahead, Shepard," Ashley announced as she eyed the data feed from the drone. "I've got a positive ID on Admiral Anderson. No bio data's coming through, but that could just be a product of all the crap being broadcast in the air." She sounded simultaneously hopeful and dejected.

Shepard let out a short breath. "Alright, let's double-time it," he said and picked up the pace, leading the other two through a narrow space between a collapsed building and scampering up and over a high mound of crumbled ferroconcrete.

"Here," Ashley said as the three Marines reached their destination. "Signal's strongest just ahead."

"Shit," Shepard muttered. They were standing directly in front of a mountain of rubble. The huge reinforced concrete and polymetallic walls of the Command Building had totally collapsed. Rebar was sticking out all over the smoldering mess and a thick haze of dust clung in the air. "Ash, is the Normandy equipped with any heavy equipment we can use to get through this?"

"No. We just barely loaded our ordnance and deep space supplies before pushing off from Yeager. And there's not much more than a skeleton crew onboard right now."

"Commander," Vega said. "The 149th Spaceborne Engineering Battalion was stationed here. A buddy of mine is with the outfit. They were sent out to build defensive fortifications at some of the evac camps nearby. I've still got a solid read on his transponder."

Shepard glanced over at the younger Marine and gave a quick nod. "Raise him and have him tell his CO I'm recalling them to our location. We'll arranges transport if necessary."

"On it, Commander," Vega said and then took a few steps away, placing two fingers against his ear and initiating the priority transmission.

"Ash, keep the Normandy well clear of this sector for now. I don't want to draw any more attention to this place than necessary. The Reapers think they've leveled it and are moving on. Let's preserve that assessment."

"Aye, aye, skipper," Ashley said before switching over to her direct link to the frigate to update their status and provide updated orders.

Shepard was pleased Williams didn't question his instructions. Technically, she was in command of the Normandy now and could do whatever she damn well pleased with it. Though, apparently, she was still constrained by EDI's superseding control over the ship.

He was still puzzled by Ashley's report that the AI had overridden her orders to break off and engage the Reapers and had instead plotted a course straight down to Earth—straight down to him. During his time commanding the SR-2, both under the Cerberus flag and beyond, he'd certainly grown to think of the ship's artificial intelligence as more than merely a super-computer. During their mission against the Collectors, EDI had evolved. The shift was most pronounced once Joker had removed the safeties that shackled her higher processing systems from exercising full autonomy. But there had been subtle clues present even before that extreme measure. Was EDI bonded to members of her original crew more significantly than he'd considered? Perhaps. But Shepard's gut told him there was something else to the ship's fortuitous arrival.

It was a line of thought that was nagging at him, just off the periphery. But right now, he had little time to dwell on it. He was focused on reaching Anderson. He'd see the Admiral's body pulled from that rubble one way or the other.

Vega's friend and the rest of his combat engineering company were on-scene less than twenty minutes later and quickly at work excavating the mountain of rubble that sat atop where they believed the Admiral and his command staff was buried. The initial work was slow as they carefully setup braces and reinforcement struts to prevent any greater collapse into the pocket of space they hoped was sheltering the victims. But once secured, the skilled engineers were able to quickly move in their heavy industrial mass effect field-powered excavators, moving hundreds of tons of debris in just a few hours.

After leveling the Alliance HQ compound, the bulk of the Reaper forces had moved on to the few remaining hardened military facilities in the Vancouver region. But the number of hostile forces on the ground was steadily multiplying now that the majority of the city's resistance had fallen. The Hawkeye drones, their stealth technologies keeping them safely hidden from enemy detection, were monitoring the Reaper movements closely. A significant mass of enemy troops were just off to the northeast and beginning to sweep back down toward the ruined Alliance base. They were running out of time.

And other than the Normandy, which remained on-station but far out over the Pacific and away from immediate danger, there were almost no Alliance fleet heavy assets left operational in the theater. A few squadrons of Trident fighters and Mantis gunships were still stubbornly doing their best to sustain their combat air patrols, but most of the small craft units had wisely gone to ground once the Oculus drones had saturated the airspace and after the last of the refugee flights had broken clear. Nearly all the surface-to-air batteries had fallen silent, either after being overwhelmed by the Reapers or having simply expended every last round of ammunition or bank of energy reserves available to them.

Through the Normandy's superior sensor and comm arrays, Ashley had learned that the John Grissom, the Enterprise, and what was left of the Ninth and Fourth fleets were fully engaged in screening operations for the fleeing civilian vessels. Captain Navarro was now in command and carrying out the last orders she'd received from Admiral Anderson before the Homeworld Defense complex was destroyed. Soon, the Cerberus-built frigate would be the last intact FTL-capable Alliance warship left on Earth.

The Major commanding the engineering company came trotting up to Shepard. The man was clad in well-worn utility combat armor and was absolutely filthy, caked with dirt and grime from head to toe. This was an officer that insisted on working right alongside his troops. "Commander!" he said. "We're about to break through to the structural pocket we believe the Admiral and his staff are holed up in."

Shepard gave a respectful nod and then jogged back alongside the Major the few dozen meters to the spot where the bulk of the heavy excavation equipment was setup, amid an array of portable high-intensity work lamps. A pair of combat engineers wearing ultra-duty utility powered armor made a final rectangular cut with an industrial-grade laser before removing a heap of debris that must have weighed several tons, and then quickly applied a mass effect field brace to the opening.

Shepard and the Major approached the newly formed passage with flashlights shining. A few tense moments passed before they heard the sound of rustling and coughing below. Then a familiar hand was outstretched through the opening.

Shepard took hold of Anderson's arm and helped pull him clear of the opening and out into the relatively clean air on the surface.

"You're one helluva sight for sore eyes, Shepard," Anderson said.

"Thought we'd lost you there, sir," Shepard said, still firmly grasping the Admiral's hand in his own.

One of the corpsmen attached to the engineering company then rushed over to the Admiral, whose uniform was tattered and covered with fine layer of dust, grease and blood. He was sporting a nasty looking gash across his brow, but otherwise appeared free of serious injury.

"I'm fine, Corporal," Anderson said, brushing aside the medic's attempts to treat his laceration. "There are worse off than me down below. They're your priority."

She gave a hesitant glance over at Shepard, who returned a quick nod, and then took her kit back over toward the opening the Admiral had just emerged from, waiting for the okay from the engineers to drop down and tend to the wounded.

"How many survivors, Admiral?" the Major asked.

"Twenty-two, including me. Emergency barriers and reinforcement struts kicked in before the whole building fell on our heads. Still, we lost a third of the command staff in the collapse."

"I'll see we pull every last soul out of there, sir."

Anderson shook his head. "Just retrieve the living, Major. Then fold up shop and prepare to evacuate the area. I'm afraid this pile of rubble will have to serve as a monument to our dead. At least for now. We need to fall back and regroup."

The Major returned a solemn look of understanding, saluted, and then marched back to the dig area to oversee the operation.

Ashley came trotting up a second later with Vega on her heels. She stopped just in front of the Admiral, looking relieved beyond measure, before stiffening her posture slightly and firing off a salute. "Damn good to see you, sir."

Anderson gave a tired, thin smile. "At ease, Commander," he said and glanced between Shepard and Williams. "We lost the network links after the collapse. Give me the Sitrep, quick and dirty."

"For all intents and purposes, the city's fallen," Shepard said. "The Alliance forces left in the region have shifted focus from active combat ops to a purely defensive posture, looking after pockets of civilians that weren't able to get clear. From what we can tell, the Seattle and Los Angeles metroplexes are even worse off than Vancouver. San Francisco was still clear of hostiles up until about an hour ago, but then the Reapers achieved total air superiority over the entire west coast. A few dozen civilian ships attempted to break free but were swatted out of the sky before they could even reach high atmo. After that, Admiral Korolev called off all further attempts to get refugees off Earth and ordered the remainder of the Alliance assets to escort civilians out of the metro areas and to move them inland. Intel beyond this region is unreliable until we re-task the sub-orbital surveillance platforms."

Anderson frowned, but looked unsurprised by any of the news. "Fleet status?"

"Bugging out, per your orders," Ashley said grimly. "Captain Navarro is collecting the remnants of the fleet and steaming hard out toward the edge of the system, about two thousand military, private and commercial ships in her charge. There's still no word from Admiral Lindholm. The Normandy's operational, but she's about the only ship this side of Jupiter that is. We should get you off-world soon."

The Admiral exhaled heavily and nodded, looking deep in thought for a long moment. "That's not going happen," he finally said, his voice strong and authoritative. "Shepard, I want you to take command of the Normandy. She belongs to you. Always has." He raised his arm and accessed his Omni-tool, tapping out a flurry of rapid keystrokes. "I'm transitioning all command codes and the authorization now. Synch up with what's left of Alliance networks once you get clear of the system. I'm ordering you to the Citadel to rally the Council. I'm staying here to organize Earth's defense. As of this moment, we are now the resistance."

"Sir, the fight's here. I'm not abandoning you. I'm not abandoning Earth."

Anderson placed a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "You're not abandoning anyone. Earth needs relief or we won't last a month. We need the support of the Council races and you're the man to get that job done. I know you'll be back. I just need you to bring a whole helluva a lot of help when you do."

Shepard stared back at the older man, a stubborn fire in his eye, but then finally relented. "You can count on it, Anderson."

"Sir!" Vega stepped around Ashley and approached Anderson. "Request permission to remain on Earth under your command."

"Denied. Your previous orders still stand, Lieutenant. I'm assigning you to the Normandy, as well. You're to remain at Commander Shepard's side. I have a feeling he'll have need of a soldier of your particular skillset." Anderson turned to Ashley next, who looked like she was about to blurt out her own protest. "The same goes for you, Williams. You're assignment is unchanged, XO. Now go. The both of you."

Ashley and Vega looked at each other and then back at the Admiral, lingering for another few seconds. They both then saluted, turned on their heels, and stormed off back toward where Cortez and their Kodiak shuttle waited in the distance.

Anderson watched the two Marines go for a moment and then looked back at Shepard. "Any news out of Mars?"

Shepard was still pensive, struggling to accept the order to leave Earth but understanding the urgency of it. They needed the help of every major spacefaring species capable of wielding a military if they had any hope of liberating the planet. "Mars?" he said, slightly taken aback. "No, nothing since the initial report that the Reaper fleet had bypassed the colony and orbital defenses while making for Earth. Why?"

"Liara T'Soni is there. She arrived at the Mars Archives Research Facility a few days ago; following some kind of lead, something she feels is connected to the Reapers. Extract her, if you can, and get out of the system."

"Liara?" Shepard said. "Of course. I'll get her."

Anderson nodded and offered a pained smile. "There's something else, Shepard," he said and paused for a moment. "Miranda Lawson. You'll find her on the Citadel—alive and well. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before, son. I should have. You deserved to know a long time ago, but I had my reasons."

Shepard stared back at Anderson in stunned silence, feeling like he'd just been struck over the head by a heavy weight.

Miranda is alive?

Logically, he couldn't accept it. But something deeper down in his gut told him it was true. A wave of emotion threatened to crash over him and he felt his heart thump out a heavy rhythm in his chest.

"You've got questions," Anderson said. "A million, I'm sure. But there's no time now. You've got to take the Normandy and get clear of the system, before it's too late."

Shepard was unrelenting as he locked eyes with Anderson, a storm brewing inside him. There was anger now. The man he trusted above all others had kept the truth from him—for quite some time, it seemed.

Why?

Then several of the rescued command staffers and their Marine contingent began to walk over and crowd around them, looking to the Admiral for direction.

But Shepard wanted answers. He wanted to rage against Anderson and demand to know why he'd been left in the dark for so long.

But there was no more time. Every minute that passed, the net the Reapers had thrown around the system was tightening, strangling humanity and cutting them off from the rest of the galaxy.

After what seemed an eternity, Shepard finally broke free of his trance and gave one last curt nod toward Anderson. "Stay alive, sir," he said, his voice taut with stress and emotion. "I'll be back."

"I know you will, son. Now go, damn it."

Shepard stared back at the Admiral for another moment before finally striding off toward the Kodiak waiting in the distance.

Leaping up into the troop compartment, he joined Vega and Williams, who were both sitting in the shuttle jump seats, wearing conflicted expressions. Ashley was signaling to the Normandy, advising the ship of their orders and designating a rally point. Vega was scowling, looking totally disconsolate. The big shuttle then lifted off the ground and began to climb up into the sky.

Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon in the east. The first rays of sunlight pierced the pall of smoke hanging over the city and cast a series of brilliant, multicolored rays across the sky. It was both stunning and terrible to behold.

Then Cortez gunned the throttle of the Kodiak and sent the craft rocketing out to sea and toward their rendezvous with the Normandy.

Shepard remained at the open troop door once again, consumed by a hundred different thoughts and emotions as the ocean stretched out in front of him.

But then his mind's eye settled on the memory of a woman's face, with her long raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes.

She was alive.

The scale of the war that was upon them now was beyond even his most terrible predictions. But wherever they were called, whatever crisis his ship would be tasked to deal with, he was determined to reach Miranda, even if he had to shoulder aside every damn Reaper in the galaxy.

---

Eldfell-Ashland Energy Corporate Settlement, Sanctum, Decoris System

"These images were recorded and transmitted off-planet just moments before contact was lost with the human homeworld," the female voice narrating the network news vid said, penetrating the ambient noise of the crowded bar.

Footage of three massive Reaper capital ships marching through Manhattan, carving out wide swathes of destruction amid the iconic city, flashed across the dented and scratched-up vid display mounted above the bar. Then the images shifted to Alliance Marines and Homeworld Defense soldiers battling bizarre looking creatures on the streets of London. Another clip showed fires burning out of control in Beijing. Then more huge Reaper ships descending through the atmosphere, breaking through high cloudbanks above the Earth, as fiery debris rained down around them.

"Shortly after Earth and Luna-based networks went dark," the voice continued, "all remaining Alliance News Network services within Sol ceased broadcasting. All outgoing feeds behind the Charon Relay have been severed after what appears to be a catastrophic comm buoy failure. Systems Alliance representatives have refused to make an official comment and have yet to confirm or deny that a massive invasion of human space has occurred. However, we've learned that an emergency session of the Citadel Council has been called and that asari and batarian representatives are currently in talks with humanity's Councilor Donnel Udina…"

There was a wide range of reactions in the bar as the newscast continued to play. Most of the human corporate contractors present were watching in stunned silence. A few were sobbing at the more graphic images flashing across the screen. There were several loud gasps when a Reaper was shown in Paris, dwarfing the Eifel Tower, blasting commercial transport ships out of the sky. A pair of turians looked on stoically, nodding and talking to each other in hushed voices. A group of batarians sitting in the corner were snickering loudly. A fight broke out when three burly human minors dressed in filthy coveralls descended on the aliens. But most everyone else in the place ignored it, too engrossed with the unbelievable images of the invasion.

Miranda sat at her table near the back of the bar, clenching the drink she'd been nursing so hard it threatened to explode in her grip at any moment. Like most everyone else present, her gaze was locked on the news vid. She couldn't rip her eyes away from it, even as her stomach tightened into an uncomfortable ball. This is it, she thought. They're finally here.

She had known this day was coming for a long time. In fact, Miranda had been one of only a handful of people in the entire galaxy that understood the scale of the impending threat. But now that she was actually witnessing it, even through the lens of some news vid camera a hundred light years away, the magnitude of the event left her momentarily gut-punched and dazed.

Kasumi reached across the table and placed a gentle hand on Miranda's wrist. "Hey, I'm sure he got out," she said, trying to sound more confident than she looked. "You took steps."

Miranda's attention remained fixed on the news vid for another few seconds longer before she finally managed to look away, turning toward her friend seated beside her. She could see that Kasumi was trying to be strong and reassuring, but she appeared just as terrified as she felt.

Kasumi opened her mouth, looking like she was searching for something more to say, when the front door of the bar swung open and the Eldfell-Ashland engineer they'd been waiting for walked in.

The man paused just inside the doorway and glanced around the tavern until he spotted Miranda and Kasumi in the back corner. He gave a quick nod in their direction, gestured toward the other end of the room, and then abruptly marched off down the hallway and out through the back exit.

"What the?..." Kasumi said, as she and Miranda exchanged a quick, puzzled look. "Where is he going?"

"Bloody hell," Miranda said before pushing away from the table. "Come on. Let's go."

The two women then strode across the crowded bar, squeezing their way past the other patrons still consumed with the news broadcast, and pursued the man down the hallway he'd disappeared through.

Approaching the back door, Miranda shouldered her way past a group of salarians when she suddenly felt a powerful hand seize her arm and pull her back into the shadows.

She struggled and tried to pull her arm free, looking back to identify her assailant.

Kasumi was at her side in an instant, her pistol drawn and pointed at the head of the big man. But then he pushed back the hood that had been concealing his face and spoke with a familiar, raspy voice. "Relax, Goto," he said. "If I wanted you two dead, it'd already be over with."

Miranda glared up at the rogue, his face only inches from her own. His scarred, weathered skin looked even more raw and abused than when she'd last seen him, the day he walked off the Normandy. "What are you doing here, Massani?"

Zaeed flicked his eyes left to right, warily glancing back toward the smoky bar. "Not here," he said. "It's not safe. I know a place."

Miranda finally succeeded in yanking her arm loose from Zaeed's grasp. "You have got to be joking. We're a little busy here," she said, fingering the grip of the Paladin heavy pistol holstered at her side, under her coat.

"Lawson," he growled, "you walk out that door and you'll find a bullet in both your goddamn heads. You're being fucking set up. Now, come on. I know another way, through the stock room." He then tugged the hood back over his head, turned, and walked off back through the bar.

Miranda scowled after him for a moment and then turned to look over at her partner.

Kasumi was biting her lip, looking simultaneously intrigued and bewildered. She then holstered her pistol and shrugged. "Why not?" she said cheerfully.

Miranda grimaced and glanced back toward the exit the engineer had disappeared through. She then closed her eyes and sighed, shaking her head. She didn't like it, but she couldn't deny that her instinct was telling her to trust the grizzled mercenary and stay well clear of that door. "Damn it. Fine, let's go."

Kasumi gave a quick nod and chased after Zaeed.

As Miranda followed, casting her eyes suspiciously about the bar, she stole one final look back at the news vid continuing to loop the invasion footage.

Don't you die on me, Shepard. Don't you bloody dare.

---

Author's note:

Okay, so there it is—my reimagining of the Fall of Earth. I actually cut about a third of the potential content I had lined up and probably could have split the event into three sizable chapters. But I've got to move on with the narrative or I'll never finish it. And besides, I'm just as anxious as many of you are to put Shepard and Miranda back together.

And since a few people have asked, I think this is a good time to set the record straight on the role of Ashley Williams in the story. This is still, one hundred percent, a Miranda-Shepard romance/adventure fic. I absolutely will not deviate from that or make any sudden shift in that part of the plotline. Their will certainly still be challenges ahead for their relationship, but I have little interest in setting up someone like Ashley to be a new temptress.

I've already established Liara as Shep's romantic interest from the ME1 timeline and she obviously still has some complex emotions over their shared histories, which are further complicated by the asari melding thing. But that's more or less done with.

As for Ashley, I've chosen to incorporate the canonical ME1 backstory that established both she and Liara had a thing for Shepard. But she hasn't been showing up a lot lately because I intend to pit her against Miranda and have them battle it out for Shepard's affections. That angle's been explored many times before, so I'd rather stay clear of it. Not that there won' be conflict between Ash and Miranda. There certainly will be. This just happens to be a pretty Ashley-heavy portion of the story. I enjoy featuring her and will be doing more of it in the future. But again, I'm looking to set her on a different path.

In the end, I don't want the self-worth of any of these female characters, including Miranda, to be derived from their relationship with Shepard. They're all strong women in their own ways and I intend to highlight that where I can.

As always, thanks for reading and all the great feedback.

10/13 – Some cleanup and corrections