Chapter 32
SSV Normandy, high orbit over Sur'Kesh
Miranda stood amid the CIC, arms crossed in front of her, her gaze locked on the tactical screen tracking the movement of the salarian cruiser. The big warship was maneuvering fast, putting itself directly ahead of the Normandy and more than close enough for their optical feeds to identify the massive rail gun turrets pointed in their direction.
Most of the eyes inside the Normandy's CIC were upon her, the staff's expectant, anxious faces waiting for her to act. Miranda knew they were sizing her up, wondering how this mysterious raven-haired woman, in her unlikely role as ship's XO, would deal with the ultimatum the salarian officer had delivered.
Would she comply with Captain Tolan's request, surrender the ship and allow them to be boarded? Would she try to fight? Would she choose to run? She was unproven in their eyes, an unknown quantity. And Miranda was well aware that, at this moment, they would all much prefer to have the steady hand of Captain Shepard there, leading them through the tense standoff.
"Can we run?" Oriana asked quietly. She had gotten up from her station after the salarian delivered his terms and was now standing close at Miranda's side.
Miranda shook her head. "They're much too close," she said. "If we try to escape, we'd leave ourselves vulnerable to attack. That's an incredibly powerful warship. At this range, we might not even survive their initial volley."
"Well, I know we're not surrendering."
Miranda smirked. "You're damn right we're not. EDI, can you infiltrate that ship's core systems, disrupt weapons and propulsion?"
"Affirmative, Miss Lawson," EDI said. "But the vessel's countermeasures are robust. I estimate it will take a minimum of two minutes to penetrate their network firewalls and gain the necessary level of access required to disable the ship. My attempts to breach their security would not go unnoticed."
Miranda feared as much. Hacking another modern warship's systems was an exceedingly complex and delicate procedure, even for an AI as powerful as EDI. "Show me that ship's schematics, EDI."
A secondary holo window appeared over the command table, displaying an image of the salarian cruiser along with a set of comprehensive details on its design and capabilities. Miranda peered intently at the information for a few seconds, cycling through several pages of data, and then seemed to come to a decision. "Riley, what's going on with that tactical carrier?"
"Appears to be dead in the water, ma'am," Ensign Riley reported from the Tactical station. "I'm reading minimal power output from their reactors, enough for life support, artificial gravity, and just enough to power their maneuvering thrusters and keep their orbit from decaying." He looked over at her. "I think whatever cyber-attack they tried to hit us with disabled them."
She nodded. That was something, at least. This little rebellion didn't appear to involve the entire Salarian Navy. "EDI, examine that cruiser's docking mechanisms more closely. Are you seeing what I am?"
There was a brief pause before EDI responded. "Affirmative, Miss Lawson. The design flaw presents a clear weakness in their core systems."
"How confident are you in your ability to exploit the vulnerability?"
"One hundred percent, Miss Lawson. Once a hard lock is established with our external airlock receptacles, I can disable the vessel within approximately ten seconds."
Miranda nodded. "Traynor, reopen comms with the salarian cruiser. Audio only. I don't need to see his face again."
Traynor gave her a brief, hesitant look before complying. "Aye, ma'am. You're on."
"Captain Tolan, this is Miranda Lawson, Executive Officer of the SSV Normandy. We are powering down barriers and engines. We want to avoid any type of incident and intend to fully comply with your orders. We're transmitting our standardized docking vector and are prepared to receive your inspectors."
"You've made a wise decision, Lawson," Tolan's voice came back. "But I warn you, if we detect any aggressive or sudden maneuver, we will be forced to destroy your vessel. Nothing short of your total and complete compliance is required. Once my men have boarded, they will pilot your ship to a secure starbase for inspection. Tolan out."
Miranda sneered. The salarian was arrogant and overconfident. That was good.
Joker's voice came over the intercom. "Uh, Miranda, what the hell is going on?"
"EDI will fill you in, Lieutenant Moreau. Ease down on the main propulsion and bring us to a full stop. CIC out." She turned to Riley and nodded. "Ensign, disengage barriers and stand by to rig for ship-to-ship docking."
"Aye, aye, ma'am."
"Miranda?" Oriana said tentatively.
Miranda glanced over at sister and gave a faint smile. "That ship's boarding tunnel is designed to engage a hard lock with the target airlock's environmental sensors. It's meant to provide a redundant means of confirming atmospheric levels. However, it's not shielded properly. We're going to manufacture a feedback loop of sufficient amperage that will cascade through their sensitive internal networks and disable critical systems."
"I estimate that a directed 9000 milliamp current will be sufficient to ensure a thorough overload," EDI added.
Oriana blanched. "That's a lot of amperage—More than strong enough to kill everyone on board that ship."
"The vessel's habitable compartments are sufficiently insulated to protect the crew from harm," EDI explained. "However, if someone is actively engaged in maintenance on certain systems and has direct contact with exposed electronics at the time of the feedback, they could potentially be exposed to the full effects of the surge."
Miranda glanced up at the holo-vid displaying the STG base. Thick, gray smoke was still billowing up from the site and multiple fires were burning out of control. "It's a chance we'll have to take. We need to get that ship off our back and get down to the surface as quickly as possible. The stakes are too high and I'm not jeopardizing a future human-turian-krogan alliance over the cost of a few salarian lives." She looked at her sister again. "Back to your station, Oriana."
Oriana hesitated for a split second before returning a nod and sliding back into her seat at the edge of the CIC.
Miranda keyed the intercom. "Moreau, have you been sufficiently versed in the details of our plan?"
"That's an affirmative, Miranda," he said, sounding almost giddy. "You've definitely still got a flare for the dramatic. I'm all set up here."
"Good. Then queue up an atmospheric entry vector. The ship can't remain in orbit and risk attracting more hostile vessels. We'll head directly for the captain's location."
"Roger that. We'll be ready."
She turned to Traynor, who was looking at her expectantly. "Advise Lieutenant Vega, Private Westmoreland, and Lieutenant Mallory to suit up and prepare for deployment to the surface. And tell Ensign Rhodes to prep Kodiak Two and the Dragonfly for combat operations."
Traynor gave a curt nod. "Aye, ma'am."
"I hope you're not planning on putting Vega behind the wheel of one of those shuttles, Miranda," Joker said. "He's got a history."
"I'm well aware of the lieutenant's unorthodox tactics. He won't be flying either of the shuttles. Rhodes will take the Kodiak. I will be piloting the Dragonfly myself." She ignored the sideways glances she received and addressed the rest of the CIC staff, raising her voice. "Listen up, everyone. I have no intention of allowing the salarians to board this ship. We're going to let that cruiser secure its docking collars to our hull but then initiate an extreme maneuver to free ourselves before proceeding to the surface and extracting our people. I need you all focused and prepared to react. There can be no hesitation. Timing is crucial. Is that understood?"
A chorus of "aye, ayes" was returned and Miranda nodded in satisfaction.
"Ensign Riley, prep two Hawkeye drones for deployment. We'll launch them as soon as we're clear and have descended into the stratosphere. Program them for high atmosphere surveillance above the STG base and configure for direct laser-line comm relay. We'll use them to maintain communication once the shuttles are in range of that localized surface jamming."
"Aye, aye, ma'am."
The next few minutes ticked away painfully slowly for Miranda as she waited for the salarian warship to maneuver into position and engage its docking apparatus. It was precious time that she would much rather be using to get to the surface and retrieve Shepard and the others. But she had little choice in the matter. If they attempted to launch shuttles before the cruiser was disabled, they would easily be shot from the sky. Patience was what was required of her at the moment.
She used the time to scrutinize the data they'd collected so far about the situation on Sur'Kesh. After a brief period of dormancy, comms were once again alive with frantic, confused activity from both the surface and orbit as transmissions began to intermittently cut through the waves of interference. The coup had clearly taken most of the establishment by surprise, crippling the Linron regime and neutralizing a major portion of the military forces that hadn't been collaborating with the Narra bloodline. But the bid to wrest control of the planet was still being contested. They were detecting evidence of intense fighting within the capital, Talat, and a significant fleet engagement raging in high orbit nearly twenty-five thousand kilometers from the Normandy's current position.
As the Normandy awaited the cruiser to latch on and, hopefully, fall into Miranda's trap, the ship's powerful optical sensor array was still fixed on the STG base. There was movement on the surface now. More than two dozen Sentinel military grade assault mechs had emerged from hardened containers already present at multiple locations along the base's perimeter. The synthetics were clearly part of the Narra plot, moving methodically amongst the rubble of the facility and executing the few salarian survivors that could be seen from orbit. The hostile elements hadn't yet reached Cortez's ruined Kodiak, but it was only a matter of time before they did.
"They've matched our course and speed," Joker announced over the intercom. "Ten seconds to contact."
Miranda tore her eyes away from the holo window displaying the situation on the ground and glanced up to another that depicted the salarian cruiser's trajectory. It was a massive ship, nearly the size of an Alliance dreadnought. Her mind's eye pictured an enormous shadow cast over the Normandy as the behemoth blotted out the light from the local star.
"The salarian vessel is extending their boarding tunnel and docking collars, ma'am," Ensign Riley said.
A shudder ran though the ship when the cruiser's massive clamps latched onto the hardpoints along the Normandy's hull and Miranda instantly felt a brief sensation of panic and doubt.
If her plan failed and EDI was unable to disable the cruiser, she would be responsible for hand delivering the ship to a salarian faction of extremely dubious nature and, in doing so, removing any reasonable chance of reaching Shepard and the others. But almost as quickly as she entertained the notion, she pushed the hesitation from her head.
There was no room for doubt now. The plan would work. It must work.
She watched the airlock indicator light go from red to green, signaling a successful seal. "EDI, proceed."
"Yes, Miss Lawson. Commencing infiltration of primary data networks and main power bus."
Ten seconds ticked by. Then another five. Then another five after that. Miranda glanced around at the CIC staff. Most of their gazes were fixed on the external vid monitors. A few were perspiring even though the compartment was maintaining its normal cool temperature. The tension was palpable.
Miranda was at the command holo table, clutching the railing. "EDI, what's happening?" she demanded.
"Stand by please," EDI said calmly. "The salarian systems are slightly more robust than I anticipated. Building the necessary subroutines and preparing feedback charge now."
"They're hailing us, ma'am," Traynor called out. "They want to know why we haven't accepted the atmosphere sensor handshake and pressurized the tunnel."
"Ignore them," Miranda snapped. "EDI, we're out of time here."
"I'm reading a power buildup in their starboard mass accelerator batteries," Ensign Riley said. "They just painted us with an active targeting scan. They're preparing to fire."
"Are they insane?" Oriana said. "We're too close for that. We're attached to them for god's sake!"
"EDI!"
"Security protocols have been penetrated. Initiating directed energy feedback now."
The lights within the CIC flickered for a moment as a massive amount of electrical energy was shunted from the Normandy and injected directly into the salarian cruiser's exposed power backbone. Within seconds, the big warship lost every critical system as the overload surged unfettered through its power conduits and fried its delicate network fabrics.
"Operation successful," EDI said. "Propulsion, navigation, weapons, communications, sensors, artificial gravity, and primary life support have all been severely disrupted. Reversing docking clamp polarity and disabling hull lock now."
Miranda resisted the urge to blow out a sigh of relief as she felt the docking collars release and instead began barking out orders. "Moreau, spin up the engines to full output and stand by to engage atmospheric entry vector. Riley, reengage barriers and charge weapons systems. Prepare a firing solution on that cruiser. If they paint us again, I want a full spread of Javelins launched into their broadside."
"Aye, ma'am!"
"Ready to go here, Miranda," Joker said. "But that damn boarding tunnel still has a seal on us."
"I don't care. Just punch it, Joker!"
"You got it."
The hum of the Normandy's powerful engines intensified just before Joker gunned the throttle and pulled them into a hard, starboard-side turn. Another shiver ran though the ship and Miranda glanced up at the port-side external optical sensor feed to see the salarian's boarding tunnel wrenched free from the frigate's hull and sent careening off into space, breaking apart into a dozen pieces.
"Riley, any sign of pursuit?"
"Negative, ma'am. The cruiser looks to be adrift and I'm reading minimal power signatures. No other hostile vessels in the immediately vicinity either."
"EDI, how long until their orbit decays?"
"If the salarians are unable to repair maneuvering thrusters, approximately ninety minutes."
Miranda nodded. "Very well. We'll let their friends worry about them now. Moreau, you have operational command. I'm heading down to the Shuttle Bay."
"Copy that, Miranda," Joker said.
"EDI, transfer command codes and authorization to Lieutenant Moreau."
"Acknowledged. Codes transferred. Good luck, Miss Lawson."
Miranda gave a quick nod to the staff in the CIC, including Oriana who was craning her neck over her station's chair to meet her sister's eyes. She then swept into the elevator and hit the button for Deck Five.
Miranda exited the elevator a few moments later and stepped out onto a Shuttle Bay buzzing with activity.
Vega, Westmoreland and Mallory were already in the Armory and clad in their combat armor, busy collecting weapons and gear, inspecting their equipment and checking over each other's seals and personal barrier systems. Their movements were rapid, but disciplined and practiced. They glanced up at her as she entered, each giving her a quick nod before continuing on with their business.
Miranda took a light combat harness from one of the nearby lockers and pulled it over her shoulders, buckling the fasteners over her stomach and chest. The Armory attendant handed her a heavy pistol and thermal clips. She slipped the clips into the pouches on the harness, pulled back on the action of the weapon, inspecting it, before sliding the pistol in the holster tucked in close to her left side.
Farther up the deck, the heavy, trundling loaders were maneuvering the Kodiak and Dragonfly drop ships into launch position, the latter of the two looking decidedly more sleek and aggressive next to its boxier cousin. It was bristling with external gun placements and full ordnance racks.
The flight operations staff was darting around the heavy equipment, feverishly working to prepare the shuttles for launch. Ensign Rhodes was completing a walk-around inspection of the ships even as he was finishing pulling on his flight suit. The Flight Ops Chief, Maggie Sun, was barking out orders over the din, her voice raised to a volume that utterly contrasted her petite frame. It was all a display of controlled chaos, but everyone on the deck understood the urgency, knowing their people were on the surface and in danger.
"Hawkeye drones away," EDI announced over the Armory intercom speakers. "Ninety seconds until operational orbit is achieved."
Miranda glanced up reflexively at the announcement and then noted that the marines had finished their preparations and had turned their eyes toward her, waiting for the word.
"Mallory, you'll be going with Rhodes in the Kodiak," she said. "Search and rescue medevac is your primary objective. You'll make straight for Cortez's shuttle and assess his condition. Vega, Westmoreland, you're with me in the Dragonfly. We'll provide close air support for the Kodiaks, recon the site, and try to make contact with the captain's team. Questions?"
"Can you tell us more about what's happening on the ground, ma'am?" Westmoreland asked.
"The base took a serious beating from the initial blast. Most of the structures on the surface we're able to get a clean look at appear largely destroyed or at least severely compromised. The explosion was non-nuclear, but we'll still exercise radiological and chemical weapons precautions while on the ground. Keep your suits fully enviro-sealed until we have solid atmospheric readings. There's still been no contact with Lieutenant Cortez, but the exterior of Kodiak One looks intact. There's a good chance he's still alive and protected inside the shuttle. We also know there's a substantial network of bunkers below the surface. That's where the labs are located and where we believe Shepard and the others will be. We don't believe there's a secondary bomb, but we have identified a minimum of twenty-eight Sentinel mechs patrolling the area. They appear to have been planted at the site ahead of the detonation and are presumed hostile."
Vega let out a low whistle. "Sentinels, huh? Those things are no joke, XO. They're definitely not your standard LOKI security mechs, that's for sure. And twenty-eight of them?"
Miranda nodded. The Sentinel class mechs were based on the more common LOKI platform, but highly militarized in nature and generally used for warfare in extremely hostile environments. The Lieutenant was right, they were deadly opponents, especially with such a dramatic numerical advantage.
"I don't particularly like those odds either, Lieutenant," she said. "But I'll be keeping them off you with the Dragonfly. The mechs are fair game and we won't be wasting time trying to determine what faction is controlling them. However, it may be more difficult to distinguish the rebel salarians from the loyalists that were operating the base. If you encounter organics, use non-lethal munitions and tactics when possible. That said, if you're threatened or fired upon first, you're authorized to respond with deadly force. And anyone observed engaging the captain's party is fair game. Everyone clear?"
They all were.
Up the deck, Chief Sun was bellowing final instructions to her staff. "Clear the flight deck and secure for high speed launch operations. I want everyone strapped in to their rumble seats in sixty seconds." She cast a critical eye around the area, hands on her hips, observing as her flight-ops crew finished locking down the last of the equipment. Warning alarms and strobes then came to life, and she strode purposefully toward Miranda and the waiting marines. "You're good to go, ma'am."
Miranda nodded and set out across the deck, Sun at her side. The Chief was a full head shorter than her and needed to take nearly twice as many steps to keep pace with the XO's long strides. They paused at the foot of the shuttle's tail ramp as Vega and Westmoreland trotted up into the troop compartment.
Sun came to attention and saluted. "Good hunting, ma'am," she said.
Miranda returned the salute and then turned to walk up the troop ramp. Westmoreland had taken a spot along the port-side and was busy strapping herself in. Vega took the jump seat along the forward bulkhead, behind the cockpit and where the shuttle's crew chief would normally sit if they had the proper amount of personnel to operate the heavy warbird.
Miranda slipped past the big marine and slid gracefully into the pilot's seat to begin an expedited pre-flight check. The Dragonfly's avionics and instruments were all bleeding edge tech, utilizing advanced holographic interfaces and virtualized haptic arrays. Still, there remained a few traditional flight control features, including a redundant center stick with weapons control that extended up between the pilot's legs and an auxiliary throttle on the left-hand side.
She thumbed the systems online one by one until the semi-surround holographic HUD lit up within the cockpit and the dozens of vid feeds situated outside the hull produced the simulated canopy, revealing the outside environment. Sensor and tactical arrays came to life and the weapons control consoles showed the readiness of the substantial ordnance the Dragonfly was loaded with.
"Comm check," Miranda said, broadcasting over the flight ops channel. "This is Lawson, designate Rogue Two-One, standing by for launch."
"Copy that, Rogue Two-One," Traynor's voice came back. "We have you five by five. Approaching launch point. ETA sixty seconds."
Miranda watched as the Normandy's massive forward ramp swung open. The big frigate was descending though the atmosphere at nearly 18,000 mph, the insanely resilient mass effect force fields preventing the flight deck from being sheared open by the extreme air pressure. In the rear-facing monitors, she noted the launch blast shields extending up from the deck, directly behind her shuttle and the Kodiak, along with the dampening mechanisms designed to absorb the residual thermal and radioactive energy of the thrusters.
"You sure you can drive this thing, XO?" Vega asked, poking his head through the narrow passageway between the troop compartment and cockpit.
Miranda kept her focus locked on the instrumentation as she brought the shuttle's engines to full output, feeling the oversized power plants rumbling through the cockpit. "Cerberus was in possession of the prototype specifications for this airframe," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm familiar with its operation."
"Great, so Cerberus is operating these bad boys too?"
"No, not to my knowledge. They opted to invest in the Atlas heavy mech program instead, relying on Kodiak variants and Mantis gunships for close air support. Cerberus has vast resources, but they're not necessarily limitless."
"Well, I guess that makes me feel a little better. So… But, you actually haven't flown one of these before?"
Miranda let out an impatient sigh. "In addition to the thousands of flight hours I've logged in various Kodiak drop ship variants, I'm rated expert in both the F-61 Trident trans-atmospheric fighter and A-61 Mantis gunship. I assure you, I know what I'm doing."
Vega was staring at her as if seeing her for the first time.
She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "What, you thought I was merely a pretty face?" she said and then gave a curt nod back toward his seat. "Now, tighten up that harness, Lieutenant. I fly real bloody fast."
Vega's look of astonishment morphed into an amused grin. He obeyed, retreating behind the bulkhead to finish strapping in.
Miranda keyed over to an isolated comm channel to the bridge. "Moreau, once we're clear, I want you to take the ship farther to the west and assume a low altitude position. There' a large canyon twenty-one kilometers from the base. It should be sufficient to conceal the Normandy while we complete the op. Your priority is to keep this ship and the Primarch out of danger. There's little you can do to aid in the extraction other than keep the overhead surveillance and comm relays operating for us. If we fail to recover the captain's team and are unable to return, your orders are to get the ship and Victus clear of the system."
"I understand, Miranda," Joker said. "Just see that you do make it back here. Watch yourselves down there."
She nodded and closed the channel.
"Rogue Two-One, you're a go for launch," Traynor said over the flight ops channel.
"Copy," Miranda said, increasing the mass effect field generators to maximum and gunning the primary thrusters. The Dragonfly roared out of the Normandy's launch bay at incredible speed, instantly matching the frigate's velocity before accelerating away. "Rogue Two-One is away."
The Kodiak followed less than three seconds later and just before the big frigate banked hard to port and increased its angle of descent, diving through the upper atmosphere, heading for the designated rally point.
Once clear of the frigate, Miranda sent the Dragonfly into a hard starboard-side roll and pointed the nose of her shuttle toward their objective, still twenty-five kilometers below. Behind her, Rhodes mimicked the maneuver and chased after her.
Miranda flicked her eyes between her instruments and the tactical displays, noting the stream of fresh data beginning to flow in from the Hawkeyes. The drones were orbiting at an extreme altitude, circling high above the base and synchronizing telemetry and battlefield data between her flight and the Normandy. They also provided the crucial tight-beam laser comm relay between the shuttles and their mothership, allowing for their communications to cut through the localized jamming blanketing the area around the STG compound.
The extreme operating altitude of the drones paired with their highly sensitive optical sensors afforded a sweeping view of the base and surrounding area. The above ground portion of the STG facility was extensive, but it was also located in an extremely remote region of the continent with dense jungle surrounding the area for hundreds of kilometers around. They would be able to see any unwelcome company coming long before they arrived at the site.
Thick columns of black smoke were rising higher into the air, partially obscuring the view from above, but the devastation the blast had wrought was still obvious. Most of the thick-walled buildings scattered around the perimeter were partially collapsed. Some were fully engulfed in flames while others had already been reduced to twisted piles of smoldering ruins. Several wrecked aircraft and vehicles were strewn across the tarmac, tossed aside by the force of the explosion. And among the carnage, three groups of Sentinel mechs prowled the area, searching for anyone that had survived the initial, brutal attack.
"Rogue Two-One, Normandy. We have new contacts approaching the objective," Traynor announced over the TacAir channel. "Three aircraft approaching from the east, ETA to STG base perimeter two minutes twenty seconds."
"Copy, I see them," Miranda said. The announcement was more of a formality. She had the exact same tactical data on her local screens that the Normandy was reading.
The Hawkeye drones had just picked out the fast moving contacts, moving at supersonic speed and just above the tree line. The ultra-sensitive suite of optics, LADAR and other radar-based sensors quickly identified them as salarian Lulsacht class trans-atmospheric troop transports. Miranda racked her memory before remembering that they were similar to the human-developed Kodiak, but slightly larger and typically possessed more offensive weaponry.
"I also have a priority comm burst from someone identifying themselves as a Major Kirrahe of the STG," Traynor said. "He's asking for Captain Shepard."
Miranda recognized the name, from both the extensive Cerberus records that detailed the Virmire incident of 2183 and her own personal conversations with Shepard. She knew John respected the salarian, but she also had no reliable way to confirm which side of this rebellion he stood on. "Is he part of the flight approaching the base?"
"Negative. The three bogeys approaching from the east are radio silent and presumed hostile. Kirrahe is broadcasting over a tight-beam comm satellite link directly to the Normandy. We don't know how he's aware of our exact position."
Miranda frowned. "Understood. Patch him through to me, Traynor."
"Copy, Rogue Two-One. Comm channel synched. You're on."
"Major, this is Miranda Lawson, Executive Officer of the SSV Normandy and second in command to Captain Shepard. State your intentions."
"Miss Lawson, I have knowledge of your captain's presence at our STG facility in Gallicene province and of the nature of his mission there. The base has been compromised and is under assault by a separatist force of military collaborators. More rebels are inbound to the site as we speak. I know you're staging a rescue attempt. I suggest we pool our intel and resources."
"I'm aware of the situation on the ground, Major, and have the troop transports on my scopes. However, your world's current political state is unpredictable. We're here only to retrieve our people and then intend to depart the system."
"I understand your caution, Lawson," Kirrahe said. "I'm sending you the tactical assessment data we have so far. We've confirmed hostile mechs operating on the surface. They appear to have been placed in hardened, blast-proof storage containers some days ago and programmed to open after the initial explosion disabled most of the facility's systems and above-ground infrastructure. I also have reason to believe that these saboteurs intended to execute the krogan females your Captain is after. But they appear to have been delayed, prompting the dispatch of reinforcements."
"You're suggesting that eliminating the krogan prisoners was a primary objective of this attack?"
"Affirmative," Kirrahe said. "But that facility also contains extremely valuable, experimental military technologies. If the separatists gain control of the base our ability to combat the Reaper threat will be severely compromised."
Miranda glanced at the salarian data streaming in through her HUD as she made a minor adjustment to the Dragonfly's course. "Do you have contact with anyone inside the base, Major?"
"Negative. Communications were severed just before the bomb was detonated and we've had no success reestablishing a connection since. The hard lines appear to have been cut from inside and wireless is being actively disrupted by something on the surface. But the base commander there is an officer by the name of Padok Wiks. I've known him for a very long time and am confident he's not a part of this coup. The fact that rebel reinforcements have been dispatched to the site suggests that they failed to take control of the facility with the forces that were already present. It's a good sign for us. There are several hidden egress points along the perimeter. They're detailed within a comprehensive schematic I'm sending you now. If your captain's team is still in the fight, they'll likely make for one of these auxiliary exits."
Miranda eyed the schematic that popped up on one of her secondary displays. The underground portion of the base was even more expansive than she'd anticipated, with caverns extending more than three hundred meters below the surface and with dozens of tunnels and chambers branching off in different directions. The information looked authentic and was undoubtedly of a highly classified nature.
"I see the intel, Major," she said, coming to a decision and then keying in several quick commands on the holo console. "I'm sending you what we have so far on the situation and linking our transponder codes. We have drones in the sky that can feed you real-time data until you regain control of your networks."
"Thank you, Lawson. I appreciate your trust. I'm leading a response team to the base now, but we're still twelve minutes away. I'm trying to get other assets to you sooner, but you may be on your own until we arrive."
"Roger that, Major," Miranda said. "But be advised, I'll likely need to use deadly force when the rebel transports arrive."
There was a brief pause on the open channel before Kirrahe replied. "Understood. These people are traitors and should be treated as any other enemy group. If they're allowed to gain control over the facility and the tech contained within it, our entire defense network could collapse. Hold the line, Lawson."
"Copy that. Lawson out," Miranda said and then keyed the comm back to their secure TacAir channel. "Traynor, did you catch all that?"
"Affirmative, Rogue Two-One. Classifying Kirrahe's task group as friendlies on our tactical screens now. I have them at the extreme edge of the Hawkeye's perimeter. It's a flight of six salarian variant Kodiaks. You should see them now."
"Copy," Miranda said, noting the new contact plots on her tactical screens before flicking her vision back to the ground-facing vid feeds, picking out Cortez's burning Kodiak at one edge of the base. "Rogue Two-Two, stand by for combat descent maneuver in three, two, one—execute."
At twenty thousand feet above the mountainous landscape, Miranda banked sharply and cut the engines, dropping the Dragonfly out of the sky as she held a four-g-plus turn for nearly a minute. The inertial dampeners struggled and complained, but held steady, shielding the occupants from the extreme gravity forces assaulting the shuttle. Then she reignited the engines and pulled back on the stick, leveling out again and activating the suite of exotic anti-radar radiation and targeting defeating countermeasures. A short distance away, Rhodes had mimicked the entire maneuver, following closely behind while the heavier combat craft blazed the trail.
"Fifteen seconds to contact," Miranda called out. "Rogue Two-Two, peel off now and head for our downed bird.
"Roger that, Rogue Two-One," Rhodes said, breaking off from the formation and accelerating straight for Cortez's smashed Kodiak.
"We're going to make a pass and take out as many of the mechs in the open before those three bandits arrive," Miranda announced over the intercom. "Somebody get on that door gun."
"I'm on it," Westmoreland said. "Ready to engage."
Miranda gunned the engines again and sent the Dragonfly screaming along the perimeter of the base, less than five hundred feet above the hard deck, surveying the devastation. The place was shattered. The entire south façade of the central, three-story structure had completely collapsed and every pane of glass in sight had been shattered to pieces. A massive crater was visible nearby, leaving a big swath of earth barren and scorched. There were salarian bodies everywhere, charred and broken on the ground. The wind had picked up and was whipping up funnels of thick, black smoke from the dozens of burning vehicles and heavy equipment.
"Jesus," Vega muttered over the squad channel. The vid feed from the Dragonfly's cameras was accessible to the entire squad via the shared TacNet. He was seeing exactly what Miranda saw. "They really did a number on this place."
Miranda nodded grimly to herself and then veered the drop ship to port, lining up a strafing run against the pre-designated targets on her tactical screens. A group of ten Sentinel mechs were moving quickly amid the rubble below, snaking their way through a narrow pathway between two ruined buildings, heading for the airfield. She thumbed off the safeties of her weapons systems, selected the 40mm chin turret-mounted cannon and unleashed a long, sweeping burst of armor piercing rounds into the enemy column.
The area exploded in a shower of shattered metal and pulverized concrete, completely obscuring the enemy in dust and debris. Miranda then swung the Dragonfly back around, toggled the side door release, and turned her starboard side to the target, giving Westmoreland a clear shot.
The side-mounted autocannon roared, depositing nearly five hundred incendiary rounds into the enemy position in only a few seconds, ensuring that any mechs that might have survived the initial volley were reduced to little more than superheated slag.
"I've touched down at the crash site," Rhodes said a second later. "Mallory is on the ground."
"Copy that. Button up and hold position. Hide among the wrecks. We have company on the way. I'm coming back to you in a second to provide cover."
"That's a roger, Rogue Two-One."
Miranda glanced over at what was left of the enemy mechs and then toggled back to the TacAir channel. "Normandy, Rogue Two-One. I'm not seeing any friendly survivors down here and am unable to raise the Captain or anyone else within the subterranean facility. Local jamming is still active but I can't get a lock on the source. I have two more confirmed groups of mechs moving along the perimeter, but the incoming bandits will be on top of us shortly. I'm moving into position to cover the rescue effort and engage the new arrivals."
"Copy, Rogue Two-One," Traynor said, sounding uneasy. "EDI and I working on locating the jamming equipment. Good luck, XO."
Miranda spun the Dragonfly around and thundered back over the deck, bisecting the heart of the compound and making for the Normandy's two Kodiaks. She spotted a big eight-wheeled heavy excavation tractor on its side, across the tarmac and about eighty meters from the crash site. She eased back on the throttle, slid the big shuttle back to face the direction she'd just come from, and dipped behind the wrecked vehicle.
Miranda watched the overhead vid feeds transmitted down to her by the Hawkeye drones, the Dragonfly's tactical VI preselecting ordnance and targeting solutions. The three rebel salarian shuttles were approaching in tight formation, decelerating and obviously preparing to disgorge the troops inside their cargo holds.
She drew in a deep, steadying breath and readied the Dragonfly's weapon systems. "Vega, Westmoreland, stand by for enemy contact," she said.
As soon as the salarians passed over the base's outer perimeter, Miranda poked the Dragonfly up just above the cover of the tractor, painted the transports with every active targeting system at her disposal and switched to a broad frequency comm channel. "Attention salarian shuttlecraft, I have you locked up," she warned. "Set down at the center of the tarmac, disengage your engines, and keep your doors closed."
Seconds later, gunfire erupted from the lead salarian shuttle, the pilot firing a wide, arcing burst that kicked up chunks of the tarmac ten meters forward of the tractor. Miranda replied with a far more precise burst of fire from her own gun, unleashing a barrage of 40mm mass accelerated slugs from the Dragonfly's chin turret.
The salarian shuttle's starboard engine disintegrated under the impact of the superheated projectiles, followed immediately by the starboard ordnance pylon. The final few rounds then tore the tail assembly off. The remaining engine howled in protest as it struggled to keep the doomed aircraft airborne before the pilot lost all control. It banked sharply to port and then plummeted into the ground, exploding in a spectacular, tumbling fireball. The surviving shuttles peeled off in opposite directions, firing wildly at the Alliance gunship. Miranda jinked left, easily avoiding the incoming fire, and climbed several meters, launching a pair of air-to-air missiles.
One missile went wide immediately, thrown off by the target's countermeasures, and soared away toward a distant mountainside. The second struck home, impacting one of the shuttles in the rear engine assembly as it tried to flee. The crippled ship slammed hard onto the deck, digging a long trench in the tarmac until finally coming to a rest.
The last shuttle zipped around the other side of one of the larger surviving buildings before Miranda could reacquire a lock. She flicked her vision to the Hawkeye's downward-facing vid feed and saw that a group of salarian troops in dark combat armor were already jumping out of either side of the transport, scurrying along the walls and moving off in two different directions. Severely outgunned, the shuttle then turned and accelerated away, staying low and keeping the buildings between it and the Dragonfly.
"Hostiles on the ground," she announced. "Vega, Westmoreland, stand by to drop. I'm taking you back to the Kodiaks to provide security."
"Copy!" Vega replied.
Miranda banked hard to starboard and sent the Dragonfly roaring back along the perimeter of the airfield, heading directly for the two Kodiaks. Slamming on the brakes and flipping around a hundred and eighty degrees, she dropped the rear troop ramp while scanning the area for the next threat.
Vega and Westmoreland thundered down the ramp and took up defensive positions alongside the intact Kodiak. Miranda glanced at the small holo window at the side of her HUD that showed the vid feed from Lieutenant Mallory's suit cam. She could see he was inside the crashed Kodiak, assessing Cortez's condition. She almost cringed when she caught a glimpse of the pilot. The man looked to be in horrible shape.
Then, off too her right, she spotted a new group of Sentinel mechs emerging from the second salarian transport she'd shot down. Seven had survived the crash, all carrying heavy assault rifles, and began to fan out in a wide formation. They darted across the tarmac, seeking out whatever cover they could find, while sending a steady stream of fire toward the Alliance Kodiaks. They moved without hesitancy and with the typical, unnerving speed of synthetic beings.
"Mechs approaching your position," She called out even as the computers tagged the new contacts on their shared tactical network. "Your three o'clock, Vega."
"Got 'em," Vega shouted and then opened up with a steady stream of fire from his assault rifle, raking a pile of overturned barrels the lead mech had scurried behind, arresting its progress.
Several of the other mechs rushing across the airfield started firing at Miranda. But the small arms they carried had zero chance of penetrating the highly advanced armor of the Alliance combat drop ship and merely plinked off the Dragonfly's surface. Her tactical computers prioritized the hostiles an instant later, prompting her to coolly pull up on the stick and climb another two dozen meters to gain a clean shot. She squeezed the trigger of the chin turret cannon and destroyed the synthetic troopers with several quick, precise bursts.
Then the threat detection alarms sounded inside the cockpit and Traynor's urgent voice broke in over the TacAir channel. "Vampire, vampire!" she called out. "Incoming missiles, unknown origin. Hawkeye jammers are hot."
Miranda tensed as her eyes flew to the threat scanner. Four missiles had locked her up and were slicing through the air toward her at hypersonic speed. She goosed the vertical thrusters and shot higher off the tarmac, rolling to port and opening the throttle to full. The Dragonfly rocketed away from the base, the automated countermeasures leaving a blossoming shower of flares and decoys in her wake, as she led the missiles away from the others.
Two of the missiles tracked wildly off course, the countermeasures from the Dragonfly or the waves of electronic jamming radiation the Hawkeyes were pumping out causing them to go haywire. They seemed to flounder for a fraction of a second before colliding with each other, resulting in a thunderclap of noise and fire high above the base. But the surviving pair of missiles continued to chase her straight and true.
Miranda was pushing the Dragonfly to its limit, but the air-to-air missiles racing after her were pulling significantly higher acceleration, closing the gap quickly. She sent the shuttle into a series of stomach-churning corkscrew maneuvers, firing off more countermeasures to try and shake the pursuit, but their lock remained firm.
So focused on her effort to evade the missiles, she hadn't even noticed the new contact on her scopes streaking directly toward her. The projectiles were within seconds of striking the Dragonfly and Miranda's hand was just beginning to reach for the eject handle when Joker's voice crackled over the comm.
"Miranda! Break left—now!"
Miranda obeyed without hesitation, yanking the Dragonfly hard to port and diving toward the deck as the massive shadow of the Normandy blotted out the sun for a split second. The frigate's point defense cannons screamed, sounding like a high-pitched chainsaw within the atmosphere, and the missiles blew apart into unspectacular puffs of smoke and flaming debris.
The salarian fighters that had fired the missiles appeared on her scopes a moment later, streaking by high overhead. Miranda yanked back on the stick, pointing the nose of the Dragonfly toward the fleeing ships, painting them with her active targeting scanners, and returned fire. An instant later, a recessed compartment within the underbelly of the ship swung open and an internal rail system ripple-fired six Shrike air-to-air missiles.
The salarian pilots hit their afterburners and deployed countermeasures of their own, but the Shrikes chasing them were bleeding-edge ordnance, developed with an eye toward engaging the absurdly fast and agile Oculi Reaper attack drones. Each two meter long missile was equipped with a tiny mass effect core, allowing the weapons to bend the laws of physics and accelerate to incredible speeds in order to deliver their payloads with unrivaled precision.
All six Shrikes ignored the salarian countermeasures and found their targets, reducing the two fighters to supersonic, careening fireballs. A moment later, one of the pilots' eject capsules appeared on the TacNet screen, an emergency chute deploying and floating it back toward the ground. The second pilot hadn't been so lucky.
Miranda didn't stop to admire her handy work and pulled the Dragonfly around again, accelerating back toward the STG base. The Normandy had thundered a thousand feet overhead of the facility a few seconds before and was now turning in a wide, sweeping arc, gaining altitude as it soared over the landscape, sunlight glistening off its hull.
"I thought I ordered you to stay clear of the base, Moreau."
Joker sniggered over the open channel. "You're welcome, Miranda."
"Lieutenant Vega's team is in danger of being overrun, Miss Lawson," EDI chimed in. "Assault mechs are advancing forward of their position and a group of salarian soldiers are executing a flanking maneuver from the northern edge of the base."
Miranda nodded. "Copy," she said. "I'm on my way back."
The Normandy's offensive armaments were far too powerful to engage anything that small on the ground, especially while friendly troops were in such close proximity. The frigate was designed to do battle with other starships, not individual groups of enemy soldiers.
Miranda keyed the comm to the squad channel. "Mallory, what's your status?"
"Cortez is alive, but he's in bad shape. He's pinned in the cockpit. I need another hand in here with some heavy equipment to pry him loose."
"Is Cortez the only one present?"
"That's a roger," Mallory said. "It's just him in here."
Vega broke through over the comm, shouting over the cacophony of weapons fire around the Marine's position. "We've got a pair of hydraulic shears and an emergency laser cutter in Kodiak Two, but our positon is taking too much fire for me to get to the equipment and over to Mallory and Cortez."
"Understood," Miranda said. While she listened to the report she was also busy selecting priority targets on her tactical computer, aided by imagery transmitted down from the Hawkeye drones. The throttle was opened to the limit again and the Dragonfly was skimming the treetops. "I'm going to sanitize the area in three seconds. Stand by."
A moment later, Miranda arrived back at the edge of the base, approaching from behind the ground team's position. She thumbed off the safety of her weapons control stick, sighted the Sentinel mechs and launched a dozen micro-guided missiles from the magazines slung under the wing pylons. Less than thirty meters away, the synthetic troopers were obliterated in a fraction of a second, the ground around them erupting in a series of rapid fire explosions. Simultaneously, the chin turret swung to the left and the 40mm cannon blazed. The devastatingly powerful gun tore a merciless swath of destruction through the enemy positions, easily penetrating walls and vehicles and shredding the salarian troopers hunkered down behind them.
Fresh columns of smoke and flames were now rising up from the area after the Dragonfly delivered its payload of sudden and extreme violence. Miranda blew out a breath she'd been holding for some time as she allowed the shuttle to drift over the ruined base, her targeting scanners looking for movement and searching for the next threat. She could see two other groups of Sentinel mechs moving at opposite ends of the base, but they were well out of range of the ground team. She could deal with them later.
"Lieutenant Vega, you're clear."
"Copy that, XO," Vega said. "Nice shooting. I'm sending Westmoreland into the downed shuttle with the equipment now. We should have Cortez free in a few minutes."
"Copy that," Miranda said. "We need to find a way into the underground facility," Miranda said. "I'm marking potential access points on the map Kirrahe provided and synchronizing the data with our TacNet. Once Cortez is ready for transport, I'll join you on the ground."
"Rogue Two-One, Normandy," Traynor said. "We've located the source of the localized jamming. Sending you targeting coordinates now."
Miranda glanced at her tactical screen and noted the new icon. It was located at the edge of the tarmac, directly south of her position. She banked the Dragonfly gently to starboard and glided toward the source of the communication jamming. After making a quick pass over the location to confirm no one alive was present in the vicinity, she hammered out another burst of fire from the chin turret cannon and destroyed the collection of nondescript storage containers.
Her ears were instantly assaulted by a barrage of chaotic comm traffic, emergency beacons and cross-talk. The transmissions were barely intelligible at first, but she soon gathered that several running gun battles were underway below the surface.
"Traynor, can you cut through this and isolate the Captain's signal?"
"Affirmative. I've got his transponder now. Patching you in directly… You're on, ma'am."
"Shepard, it's Miranda. What's your situation?"
"Making our exfil now," Shepard said. He sounded out of breath and was raising his voice over the racket of small arms fire. "The place is still lousy with infiltrators. We're with the base commander and a group of STG operatives, backtracking to an alternate exit point along the perimeter of the facility. Liara is wounded. We have the krogan female with us. Mordin's here too."
Miranda's heart skipped a beat. Liara is wounded. We have the krogan female is with us—Singular. Something had gone horribly wrong down Mordin was here? That explained Wrex's intel. "Copy that, Shepard. I'm linking a schematic of the facility and the rest of my tactical data with your Omni-tool. Mark your route on the map and I'll meet you topside."
There was a brief pause on the open channel and then the team's exfiltration route appeared overlaid upon the tactical network maps. Shepard's group was progressing through a long corridor that terminated almost half a kilometer away, within a grouping of camouflaged, hardened storage hangers on the outskirts of the compound.
"What's Cortez's status?" Shepard asked.
"Alive, but trapped inside his shuttle. We're cutting him free. Your friend, Major Kirrahe is also on his way here with more STG commandoes."
"Roger that. Wiks is talking to him now. He says thanks for taking out the comm jammers, by the way."
"Copy. I'll meet you at the exit. You need to hurry. The situation in orbit is unstable."
"Understood. Give us two minutes. Shepard out."
Miranda banked the Dragonfly, flared the thrusters and soared across the base. She found the grouping of low, stoutly constructed buildings and put the shuttle into an easy, port-side turn, circling and searching for any hidden hostile forces. The shrubs and trees in the area were battered and still smoldering from the original blast, but the structures themselves looked mostly intact.
"We're loading Cortez into the other Kodiak and prepping for dust off," Vega called over the comm a few moments later. "He's in rough shape, XO." The concern in the Lieutenant's voice wasn't lost on her.
She didn't know James Vega well but she was aware that he and Cortez were friends. "Copy," Miranda said. "Set demo charges on Kodiak One and return to the Normandy immediately. I'll collect the Captain's team and the others. Traynor, alert Doctor Chakwas that she has incoming trauma patients, Cortez and T'Soni."
"Roger that, Rogue Two-One," Traynor said. "Doctor Chakwas reports ready and standing by to receive casualties. Major Kirrahe's force should also be approaching visual range."
Miranda glanced up at the external vid feeds and caught sight of the salarian shuttles in the distance. "Copy. I see them." She watched as the six shuttles split off into three pairs, two each heading for opposite ends of the base's perimeter and the final duo holding a course leading directly toward her position. She kept a passive lock on all six of the salarian transports and thumbed off the safeties on her weapons control stick once more. She still felt confident that Kirrahe was trustworthy, but she wasn't about to take anything for granted at this point.
"We're here, Miranda," Shepard said. "Coming out now."
"Copy that. You're clear up here. I'm covering you from above and Kirrahe's flight is just arriving from the east."
Twenty meters below her position, Miranda watched as a pair of heavy metallic doors slid open at the front of one of the hangers. Garrus emerged a moment later and cautiously stepped through the doorway, the muzzle of a salarian model shotgun leading the way. He glanced up at the Dragonfly, gave a quick hand signal, and then turned to shout something back behind him before exiting the building.
Shepard emerged from the doorway next. He was carrying Liara in his arms, her head buried in his shoulder. Miranda bit down on her lip and felt her stomach clench when she realized his uniform was covered in her blood.
Garrus, like most turian military men, rarely went anywhere without wearing some form of combat kit. But neither Shepard nor Liara had been dressed in their armor when they descended to Sur'Kesh. There hadn't been any reason for it. They were dropping into friendly territory with a clear diplomatic mandate. They were nowhere near equipped enough to deal with the situation that had erupted around them in that salarian base.
Mordin, Wrex, and a veiled krogan female came out next. A team of heavily armed salarians brought up the rear. They all gathered in a clearing near the front of the building. Garrus and the STG troopers remained vigilant on the perimeter, scanning the tree line with the muzzles of their weapons.
Miranda then watched the two salarian shuttles swoop in and touch down near the crowd. The troop doors on either side of the Kodiaks swung open and two dozen STG operators stormed out onto the ground. She glanced at the overhead vid feeds and saw the other four salarian shuttles were performing identical maneuvers at two other points along the base's outer perimeter. One group was already engaging some of the remnants of the Sentinel mechs, the muzzle flashes of their weapons clearly visible through the Hawkeye drones' ultra-sensitive optical sensors.
She gave her tactical sensor suite another long, appraising look, searching for any other imminent threats in the region, before finally relaxing a fraction. "Normandy, Rogue Two-One. I'm touching down now to retrieve the Captain's team."
Miranda brought the Dragonfly down just forward of Shepard's position. Dropping the rear troop ramp as soon as the skids hit the dirt, she eased back on the main engines but kept the power plants at an idle before handing over the flight controls to the onboard VI. She then unfastened her flight harness, seized a portable tactical comm headset from the nearby cradle and slipped back into the troop compartment. Shepard was already walking up the ramp with Liara in his arms, his expression severe.
"Put her here, John," Miranda said, gesturing to the row of bench seats along the starboard bulkhead. She yanked the emergency medical kit off the wall and kneeled down next to Liara as Shepard set her down gently upon the row of seats.
Liara was only semi-conscious and moaning softly, her eyes sealed shut, enduring what was likely searing pain. Miranda winced sympathetically when she got a better look at her. The lower left side of her abdomen was covered in self-sealing trauma gel and gauze, but blood had long since soaked through the bandages. There was a cocktail of local anesthetics and painkillers baked into the emergency pack, but with a wound of that nature she was still likely in agony.
Miranda pulled a medical scanner from the kit and began tending to Liara as Shepard took a knee next to her. "What happened?" she asked.
"She took shrapnel from a flechette-laden grenade while we were pulling the krogan female from her quarantine cell," he said, shaking his head. "They caught us completely by surprise."
Miranda nodded, her eyes locked on the scanner's small holo display. She finished and tapped the comm unit in her ear. "Traynor, advise Doctor Chakwas that Liara will require immediate emergency surgery. I'm seeing multiple abdominal penetrations, internal bleeding and organ damage. I'm stabilizing her now and synching the bio monitor data to the Med Bay networks."
"Understood," Traynor said. "We'll be ready."
Miranda placed a gentle hand on Liara's forehead and gave a tender smile. "I'm going to give you something more for the pain, Liara," she said softly. "You're going to be fine. We'll have you back up to the Normandy in no time at all."
Liara gave a faint nod, tears squeezing through her sealed eyelids. Miranda then extracted a multi-injector from the kit, selected the proper drug and dosage, pressed it against Liara's arm and pulled the trigger. Her body relaxed almost instantly after the potent pharmaceutics were introduced directly into her bloodstream and her ragged breathing calmed dramatically. She opened her eyes slightly, but they were glazed over and unfocused.
Miranda looked over and met Shepard's gaze. "John, we need to get going right away. The scope of this little coup is still unclear and there are a lot of potentially hostile forces in orbit." She glanced to her right, looking back through the open rear of the shuttle, and saw a salarian in full battle armor appear at the foot of the ramp. It was Kirrahe.
Shepard looked over his shoulder, following her gaze and then turned back to face Miranda again. "Just give me second," he said. "I need to talk to him first. Get us ready for takeoff."
She nodded and began to fasten the straps around Liara's prone body. Then Wrex and the krogan female plodded up the ramp, both looking surly and impatient. Mordin followed a moment later.
Miranda exchanged a quick greeting with Mordin as she finished tightening the last of the restraints around Liara's leg and then left her in his care before returning to the cockpit.
Fastening her flight harness once again, she scanned though the updated tactical feeds, gradually brought the Dragonfly's engines up to full power, and waited. She could see Shepard through the external vid feeds. He was standing with Kirrahe and Garrus, carrying on an animated discussion.
Miranda didn't need to access Shepard's comm unit to guess at the topic of conversation. She knew him more than well enough to know how furious he was. This incident had put everything at risk—the potential alliance between the Alliance, turians and krogan, the cure for the genophage, his team on the ground, and his ship. This should have been a simple pickup and it had all gone horribly wrong.
Shepard and Garrus shook hands with the salarian officer a few seconds later and jogged up the Dragonfly's ramp. Miranda watched them though the cargo bay vid feed and slapped the door switch the moment they crossed the threshold.
"Hang on to something back there," she shouted into the intercom and then seized the stick and throttle again, lifting the big drop ship a dozen meters off the ground and swinging the tail around. She pointed the nose to the sky and flared the thrusters, leaving the ruined STG base behind, rapidly picking up speed and climbing up toward the Normandy which was now orbiting at twenty-thousand feet overhead.
"Normandy, Rogue Two-One. Prep for orbital launch ascent, recover the drones, and rig for high-speed atmospheric shuttle docking procedures. We're coming home."
"Copy that, Rogue Two-One," Traynor said. "We're glad to hear it. Normandy stands ready to receive you."
Shepard maneuvered his way into the cockpit and joined her a few seconds later. He strapped into the co-pilot's seat and blew out a long breath.
"You okay?" Miranda asked, glancing over at him. "Liara's going to be fine, you know."
"Yeah, I know. I'm just pissed. I had to kill a lot of salarians today and for no damn good reason."
She stared at him for a moment before speaking. "It's a fractured galaxy, John. People are terrified over what will happen when the Reapers show up in their little corner of space. And fear makes them do foolish things. But it also sparks the bold to take even greater risks and pursue more selfish agendas. I suppose they figure they have nothing else to lose at this point. I'm afraid we're going to see more of this sort of thing as the war goes on. Getting others to cooperate and act on everyone else's collective best interests is going to be a constant struggle. But you're up for it, Shepard."
He half-snorted a laugh and nodded.
"What else did Kirrahe have to say?"
"That they're going to have a horrible time getting control of this mess. There were Narra collaborators spread throughout every branch of their military and political structure. Apparently, they straight-up assassinated at least twenty key Linron supporters. They don't even know where the Dalatrass is or if she's even still alive."
Miranda nodded slowly. She wasn't surprised at the ruthlessness of the coup. The Reapers' arrival was creating desperate circumstances. "What happened to other krogan females?"
"They were already dead when we arrived. The salarians tried to save them, but apparently they were in pretty rough shape when they were extracted from Tuchanka. It's a miracle that the one survived at all. But Mordin believes he's already got a basis for a cure."
"Well, that's something, isn't it? You see, there's still hope. You can still see to it that some good comes out of all this, that the genophage is cured and that the krogan have a fighting chance at a future."
"I thought you weren't a fan of that idea."
"I'm still concerned about the long-term consequences." She said and shrugged. "You know me, I worry about everything. But after today, I'm more afraid that the galaxy will tear itself apart and leave little else for the Reapers to do other than mop up the mess we leave behind." She looked at him again and offered a reassuring smile. "Don't get discouraged over what happened here. It's much too early for that sort of thing."
"Have I told you lately that I love you and how glad I am that you're here?"
She smirked. "Not lately and not nearly enough. But you can make it up to me."
Shepard gave a tired smile and sunk deeper into his seat, closing his eyes and content to let Miranda drive them away from the chaos of Sur'Kesh.
Miranda glanced over at him again and smiled affectionately before turning her focus solely to the business of piloting the shuttle. Up ahead and above them, the Normandy was executing a wide, sweeping turn, synchronizing its trajectory with the Dragonfly's and preparing to receive them. The sun was gleaming off the big frigate's hull again, making the ship appear all the more welcoming.
SSV Normandy, Pax System
"Transition complete, ma'am," Ensign Riley announced from Tactical once the Normandy had emerged from the Pax system local mass relay. "All systems in the green, main propulsion and sensors coming back online. No Reaper activity detected."
"Linking with the local comm buoy grid and initiating active secure Alliance network connections," Traynor said. "Standing by to transmit queued messages and classified reports."
Miranda nodded slightly. "Very well," she said. "Carry on, Specialist."
It had been just over six hours since they had left Sur'Kesh behind them. Once clear of the planet, the Normandy had immediately gone stealthy and steamed hard out into space, making for the summit location where the turian and krogan diplomatic ships were still floating.
Shepard had briefly agonized over the decision. There were salarians on that world he considered friends, not least of all Major Kirrahe, and he was loath to abandon them in their hour of need. But what was taking place on Sur'Kesh was far beyond the scope of his authority. The fate of the Salarian Union was out of his hands and all he could do was hope for the best while ensuring his own people, and the turians and the krogan all got clear of the conflict zone.
After finding the diplomatic ships still present and accounted for, Primarch Victus took his leave and transferred over to one of the Hierarchy's heavy destroyers. He left the business of the genophage to Shepard but assured the Captain that his militaries would be standing side by side with the Alliance. The turian and krogan ships then formed a conga line at the relay, departing in turn, with the Normandy the last to transition out of the system while providing security for the others and keeping watch on the surrounding space with her powerful sensor arrays.
Miranda keyed the intercom. "Bridge, CIC. Moreau, engage our prearranged course to Noveria, all ahead two-thirds and steady as she goes."
"Aye, aye, Miranda. Steady as she goes."
"Traynor, you're overdue for your shift relief. Finish up your priority tasks and then have Miss Lawson come back up to relieve you on comms. She's ready to look after things for a while now that we're in friendly space."
"Aye, ma'am," Traynor said and flashed a brief smile. "Thank you."
Miranda nodded. "Ensign Riley, you have the watch."
"Aye, aye, ma'am. I have the watch." He gave her a respectful nod, one that was somewhat more deliberate and deferential than the gestures she had been receiving from the crew prior to Sur'Kesh. She noticed the subtle change in the other CIC staff members, as well. After what had occurred, after she'd led them in a crisis and seen to it that everyone had gotten out alive, she'd been elevated in their eyes. She was one of them now.
In years past, the crew's opinion of her would have been of little consequence to her. She wouldn't have cared in the slightest what they thought of her. But now, she found the respect that she'd earned fortified her, enhancing even further her tremendous self-confidence.
Miranda lingered for another half minute, watching approvingly as the Alliance crew went efficiently about their work, and then finally disappeared into the central lift and hit the button for Deck Three.
The Crew Deck was quiet, with only a couple of servicemen sitting in the Mess, as she made her way to the XO's quarters. She paused outside the door and gazed across the way to the Med Bay. The observation windows were all opaque again, concealing the occupants within.
Miranda briefly considered checking in with Chakwas and the others, but then decided against it. Liara was surely asleep, recovering after the hour-long surgery she'd underwent immediately after being transported up from Sur'Kesh. Thankfully, there had been no complications and the Normandy was well-stocked with medical supplies specific to asari, turian, krogan, and half a dozen other species. She'd be off her feet for a few days, but was assured of a complete recovery.
Cortez was another matter. It was a minor miracle that the man had survived the hour he'd been trapped inside the Kodiak shuttle at all. He'd sustained a serious spinal injury, several broken limbs, and a ruptured spleen and kidney. His prospects for a complete recovery were still fair, but he wouldn't be walking out of the Med Bay for at least another week.
She guessed that Mordin and the krogan female, whom they were calling Eve, were also still holed up inside there. She wanted to talk to the salarian doctor about a number of things, but it could wait.
Leaving their wounded crew, guests and the doctors alone for the time being, Miranda stepped through the door before her and entered a familiar compartment. She stopped just inside the hatchway, the door sliding shut behind her, and immediately felt as if she'd stepped back a year into the past.
The Executive Officer's cabin appeared much as it had when the Normandy had operated as a Cerberus vessel. The décor was only minimally altered and the very same desk she'd worked at before was directly in front of her. She brushed her hand over the smooth, synthetic wood surface and thought of all the hours she'd spent there, crafting after-action reports for the Illusive Man, reviewing ship's business, studying some piece of sensitive intelligence on the Collectors, or eavesdropping on Commander Shepard. The nostalgia made her smile.
The same couch was still present too and, unlike many other areas of the ship, there was very little in the way of exposed panels, energy conduits and optical data network cabling. She was relieved to see little sign of those all too common blemishes that were steadily causing her more and more consternation. In fact, she had already drawn up rough plans to remedy the incomplete work of the Alliance retrofit and would assign available crew members to the task once things had calmed down a bit—if they ever did.
However, the absence of her favored lounge chair didn't escape her, making her frown. Really, Alliance Navy? You had to take my favorite bloody chair?
She walked toward the back of the spacious compartment and into the sleeping area and saw that the ship's yeoman had been thorough in refreshing the room after the turian Primarch had vacated the place. The bedding was all new, the deck plating freshly mopped and scrubbed, and the furniture wiped clean. The bed had even been turned down for her and a surprising pleasant scent of lavender hung in the air, desperately trying to conceal the harsher smell of chemical cleaners.
She found a small Alliance duffle at the foot of the bed, brought there by the yeoman from her temporary berthing in the Starboard Officers' Quarters. She knew there wasn't much in the bag other than a few personal items, toiletries, and the lone outfit of her own she had with her—the one she'd been wearing when the Cassandra crashed on Gellix the previous week. Her extra, borrowed, officer's uniforms were already hanging in the nearby locker.
She looked at her old bed, the hint of a wicked smile playing across her lips, remembering one particular night Shepard had spent with her there.
After accepting his offer of the XO post, she'd been adamant about the need to maintain certain appearances and keep their relationship as discreet as possible. It's the reason why she had him assign her a spot in the Officers' Quarters while the Primarch had taken up residence in the Executive Officer's cabin. And it was why she was standing in her old office now.
But, all of a sudden, that line of thinking seemed like an absurd charade and altogether pointless exercise. It was relic from her past, a means to artificially separate herself from him, maintain boundaries while on board the ship, and hold back a certain degree of intimacy. She shook her head, feeling foolish. They already had precious little downtime to spend with one another as it was. And if any lesson could be drawn from what occurred hours ago on Sur'Kesh, it was that they simply couldn't predict what terrible event might occur next or when the galaxy might again conspire to pull them apart.
She reached down and seized the duffle bag, turned on her heel, and strode out of her quarters and back out onto the Crew Deck. She made directly for the elevator, exchanged a few nods with several crewmen that were exiting, and hit the button for Deck One.
At Deck Two, the lift stopped and Samantha Traynor stepped inside, her eyes glued to a datapad in her hand as she nearly ran straight into Miranda.
"Hello again, Specialist," Miranda said.
"Oh," Traynor said, startled and glancing up suddenly. "Pardon me, Miss Lawson."
"It's quite all right, Specialist. I'm sorry to delay you from getting down to the Crew Deck, but this lift is heading up first."
Traynor looked momentarily confused and glanced down at the duffle Miranda was holding at her side as the elevator doors slid closed behind her. "Oh… That's no problem at all, ma'am," she said, her face going slightly flush. "Uh… You only just missed your sister. She just arrived in the CIC to relieve me."
"How is she doing with her new responsibilities? And yes, you can speak freely, Specialist. Don't filter anything simply because she's my sister."
"Oh, I have only positive feedback for you, Miss Lawson. She's like a sponge, flawlessly picking up everything I've thrown at her so far. It's as if she's utterly incapable of errors. In fact, I was just making note of several additional duties I intend to bring her up to speed on."
Miranda kept her expression neutral and nodded slightly. "I assure you, Oriana is capable of making mistakes. We all are. But I'm pleased to hear she's doing well. You're a good instructor, Traynor."
Traynor's cheeks went a darker shade of red. "Thank you, ma'am."
A second later, the lift doors opened to reveal Deck One's small landing. Miranda's eyes briefly flicked to Shepard's door before she gave Traynor an unconcerned smile and stepped past her. "Good night, Specialist."
"Good night, ma'am," Traynor said, hesitated for a brief moment, and then put her arm up to hold the door. "And Miss Lawson, I just wanted to tell you that we're all very happy that you're here on the ship. You're presence has already taken a lot of stress off the department heads and command staff."
Miranda stopped in front of the door to the Captain's Quarters and turned her head to look back at the young woman. "Thank you, Traynor," she said, tipping her head slightly. "Now go get some rest. You've had a full day."
"Aye, aye, ma'am. Good night."
Miranda watched the elevator doors slide shut and then drew in a deep breath. She smiled to herself and quickly keyed in the access code on Shepard's door.
Walking in, she found the compartment mostly dark, illuminated only by the cool, blue lights of the aquarium to her left and the starlight streaming in through the overhead viewing port. Shepard was sprawled out on the bed, lying on his stomach, asleep after an exhausting last thirty-six hours.
Miranda knew the man hadn't slept for a full day ahead of the war summit and had remained on duty the entire time leading up to the disastrous events on Sur'Kesh. He'd remained in the CIC as the Normandy started its trek away from the salarian homeworld, seen the Primarch off the ship, and monitored what was happening in the Med Bay closely, waiting to hear that Liara and Cortez were out of the woods.
After accepting the XO role, and given the skeleton crew the ship was maintaining, Miranda and Shepard had agreed that they needed to work their primary watch schedules in such a way as to ensure that at least one of them was on duty and available within the CIC the majority of the time. The result of those staggered schedules was that they typically shared precious little actual downtime together. It had only been a few days so far, but they had already learned to treasure those few short hours a day when they could escape somewhere away from the grind and be alone for a while.
She stood there at the top of the stairs for another moment, looking down at him, and then quietly made her way into the bathroom to freshen up. Minutes later, she emerged, barefoot, her boots held in one hand, and tiptoed down the short flight of steps to the living area of the cabin. Careful not to make too much noise, she stripped off the rest of her uniform and left her clothes on the nearby chair. She found the oversized t-shirt of Shepard's she'd been using as an improvised nightshirt and pulled it over her head, lifting her long hair up through the shirt collar.
Miranda briefly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to detangle the long strands after the day of rushing around the Normandy and jumping in and out of the Dragonfly. She quickly abandoned the effort and then slipped under the covers next to Shepard.
He didn't fully wake, but stirred a little when she entwined one of her long legs with his. He then draped an arm around her hip and pulled her body closer.
She let out a soft, contented moan, feeling the muscles of his arm against her skin and found that she had to resist the urge to guide his hand to other parts of her body.
But they both needed to sleep—at least for now. And besides, she wasn't going anywhere just yet. She was exactly where she belonged.
Author's note:
Sorry folks. The release of this installment was much later than I hoped for. Life.
Minor notes on detail: Unlike in the game universe, I don't imagine Shepard and Co. going everywhere other than the Citadel in full combat kit. Dropping to a friendly or allied world on a diplomatic mission seems like an occasion that they wouldn't be outfitted in heavy armor. Garrus, of course, is a different matter. Turians just look silly without it.
Also, since I didn't put Liara in Miranda's old office/quarters, it's largely in the same condition as it was in the ME2 timeline and not filled with all the Shadow Broker junk.
I'm also not carting Victus around endlessly until the Tuchanka situation gets resolved. He's got his own fleets to manage and hang out with. Once the summit's over, there's no reason for the guy to stick around. Spoiler alert: I'm not retelling the Tuchanka bomb mission where his son dies heroically. It's not that I don't like that subplot, because I actually don't mind it at all. But it's not relevant to the greater war story or to Miranda and Shepard's journey. So, it won't make the cut.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!