"I am beginning, I am end. I am one, from which there is many. Through me, perfection you shall achieve. To resist… is futility." -The Borg.
ACV Horizon, Rayingri/Vahtz Space, Gagarin System, Armstrong Nebula, July 5, 2183
"Tali, Deck Three." Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) told her SquadComm as she took a quick breather, feeling the slick sheen of sweat upon her face, unable to wipe it off due to her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor, her armored helmet completely encasing her head fro protection from physical damage and lethal environments. Despite the internal environmentals that regulated the temperature and humidity to a comfortable level for optimal combat performance, adrenaline and stress had won out. Never in her entire life had she fought off so many hostiles in a singular span of time, an absolute stampede of enemy threatening to drown her and any team or platoon she had ever worked with. The sight of hundreds of Husks stuffing themselves in a corridor in a mindless fury with the intent of ripping them to pieces had woken up a primal fear within her that evolution never cured; the macabre sense of horror unseen terrors that hid in the night. Years of watching crappy zombie movies hadn't paid off. "Everyone, check weapons, power, and ammo.
"We're doing it again." That set of news didn't have anyone relishing the thought as Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder helped Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong onto his feet, the Marine grunting when he put weight on his left ankle, but not seemingly in any real duress. "You going to be okay, Marine?"
"Five-by-five, ma'am." K-Pop replied, his voice suggesting that, while hurt, he was going to tough it out. Jannie hadn't really seen what had happened, only that the Husk had grabbed his ankle and pulled the Lancie to the ground, and him screaming in pain a moment later. Sara, being the Navy Corpsman she was, had pulled her Marine straight out of the jaws of death itself. "Thanks for the save, Doc. Owe you a drink."
"Well, we do happen to be on a ship with at least ten bars." That had Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins snort out loud. "No lies, I don't think I want to be sober for the next few nights after this." There was no mistaking her tone. Jannie didn't blame her. Sara extracted the ammo block from her assault rifle's ammo slot of her M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon, seeing it two-thirds depleted and replacing it with a full one before she did the same with the shotgun ammo block slot. Ryder seemed to sense that Jannie was looking at her as the Corpsman turned her helmeted head towards the N7, her blue eyes visible through the narrow visor of her helmet.
"Cortana? Private mERC chat, Chief Ryder." Jannie told her on-board AppleCorps VIOS 'X' Edition Software Management Suite, having installed it into her SPECTRE Armor to manage the programs and augmentations she had crafted into her armor at the Armory of the Office of Special Tactics. It already knew her preferences, so crafting a new one would have been a waste of time, adapting it to her new and advanced armor. The modular ExtraNet Relay Chat program opened up on a private microserver connecting her on-board systems with Sara's, instituting a private p2p burst-data code communication. "You holding up okay, kiddo?"
"Auntie… there were kids." Sara's voice was small, the guilt bleeding through. "I shot kids."
"Those weren't kids, and you know it." The redhead replied, her voice soft as she placed a hand on Sara's armored shoulder. "We didn't see that on Eden Prime, the Twelfth Battalion having the area around the Beacon cleared of any civilian traffic. I… imagine that it probably happened in and around Constant when the Geth dropped there, too." The Husks she had encountered had been researchers, dock workers, excavators, and Colonial Soldiers. There had been perhaps a hundred in total or so that her team had engaged, and in piecemeal. Ghost, her electronic intrusion and cyberwarfare combat drone, had kept a count of the Husks they had seen and shot on the Carrier. "We still have a good more to go through, Sara."
"How many?" The Corpsman asked.
"We killed eleven hundred." Who knew how many had been assimilated? Jannie had to guess all. The Earth Alliance Carnival Corporation had given the SSV Normandy the full manifest list for the cruise, to include the passenger list and the crew manifest. There were forty-five hundred and thirteen personnel on-board. There was still over thirty-four hundred possible Husks on the ACV Horizon. "We'll get through this, kiddo. We do the same thing on Deck Three, thin out the herd. Then we do it on Deck Five. By then, we should have taken out most all of them, and we can continue towards the engine core."
"Yeah, not looking forward to that." Ryder sighed out loud, obviously imagining the sight of more Husks stampeding towards them. "I just have to pretend that… that someone survived this fucking death trap."
"Probably some kid crawling through the air ducts." Jannie replied, thinking of the movie Aliens. It was actually entirely plausible. Runaways lived like rats in the ducts and tunnels of the Cit, and then there was the Foundations as well; the undersides of the Arms in which the life-support systems, sub-stations, and environmental systems existed. Lord only knew how many people lived there. "You're doing good, kiddo. Your Marines, too. That last minute was definitely the worst, when we were practically close enough to spit on them. No one faltered, no one panicked, and no one broke." That had Sara's helmeted head nodding slowly. "We'll succeed. Count on it."
"I know, Auntie. We've practically got three SPECTREs." That had the Lion snort. Well, it was true in a sense. "I wonder if any SPECTRE has ever faced something like this? The Office of Special Tactics didn't exist during the Rachni Wars or the Krogan Rebellions."
"I'm sure there's been a couple of times in situations this bad. Not that anyone will ever admit to it." That Jannie didn't doubt. She quickly recognized the propaganda of SPECTREs, the Cit touting them as the absolute badasses of the galaxy. Truth of the matter was that anyone could and would die given enough time, damage, and intelligence. The redhead wondered how many truly 'tough' targets were actually done by a SPECTRE instead of a ships' kinetic strike or a planted bomb, the credit going to a Council Agent for public knowledge (and thus for the criminals of the galaxy to soil themselves). Sam Collins was a Clandestine SPECTRE who could have planted viral bombs in Systems Alliance Networks, or real bombs thanks to her official position in the Federal Marshals, able to be armed on the Arc, even in the SAGov Wing. Jannie remember seeing that vid of the SAGov turbolift bay where everyone came in and out to run the Systems Alliance. Had… Sam planted that? No, likely not. Perhaps another SPECTRE had. It was a scary thought. The turbolift had reached Deck Three a minute or so ago, but the N7 let her team catch their breath, both physically and mentally. What they had seen in that corridor would surely affect them later on.
Like Sara, she had shot Husk children, too. All of them probably had.
"Okay, folks. Return to your positions and get ready." Captain Shepard told TEAM LION as she readied her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle, holding it down her chest, the butt of the weapon by her shoulder while the barrel pointed straight down. "Clear the immediate area, set previous positions in front of the turbolift, and repeat history." Her green eyes went to all eleven members in the turbolift, and while no one was thrilled at the thought of watching a flood of Husks barreling towards them again, no one was shirking away, either.
"Tali?" The Captain spoke as she stood in front of the turbolift door. "We're ready."
Torfan wasn't as bad as this, Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins thought to herself as she aimed her Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms' ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle, sighting down the H-EOTech CCO holographic sight of her rifle as she squeezed the trigger, putting an aimed three-round burst into the chest of a Husk. She had lost count how many she had shot on Deck Three, but she had already gone through her heat sink's limit three times already. They had been firing at the oncoming tide for over a minute now, Husks running at a dead sprint towards TEAM LION at the very far end of the corridor, having to traverse nearly three hundred meters. It would take an average man twelve seconds to cover the distance if he didn't have to push his way through a stampede just to get shot at. Having said that, Husks were being dropped at a prestigious rate as anything making its way to the front was immediately met with a torrent of fire from a dozen different weapons, killed quickly and pushed or trampled by their corrupted companions. The tide inevitably drew closer despite it all, the weight of the attackers greater than the sum of the mass of the dead being pushed aside or trotted upon as Husks being shot fell forward to allow some forward advancement for its kin behind it.
The corridor absolutely teemed with Husks, from one wall to the other, all in a mindless need to reach them.
Sam continued to fire, each three-round burst finding its mark, wounding or killing depending on the broiling mass of altered flesh as it pushed forward, reaching the furthest intersection. It would be a repeat of what happened on Deck Eight; they would fight until there were bare meters left only for them to infill into the turbolift and escape being massacred. Captain Jane Shepard was no fool; she wasn't looking to getting them all killed for something so simple. N7's were suppose to be master tacticians, or perhaps they just had better sense, but the Level Three Council Agent wasn't going to spend their lives needlessly. They would hold the line, having the Husks cut their teeth on their storm of gunfire until it wasn't safe to do so anymore.
And then they would do it again.
Collins pulled back her heat dispersal bolt to cool down her Modulus, her ammo slot empty as she reached into a hardcase pouch and pulled out a NiFe MuMetal ammo block, slapping it into the slot to reload her Assault Rifle, selecting single fire on the ECS-10 as she charged the bolt forward and began firing small arcs in front of her with audacity instead of precision. With that many Husks in front of her, the Marshal knew she would hit something, and the amount of accumulated fire would mean that her target would fall quickly anyhow, either by herself or someone else. It conserved on her heat sink and her ammunition, in which she was already on her fourth ammo block. While rifle ammo blocks weighed in at a kilogram and were universal with rifles, shotguns and sniper rifles, they were still a finite supply. She could fire up to a hundred and fifty times depending on conditions on an ammo block, and while the three-round burst selection was almost a guarantee to kill a Husk, she would go through her heat sinks' capacity in eleven trigger squeezes; ten seconds worth of firing. Then five seconds of cooldown.
Math wasn't on her side. She was a cop; it never was.
Sam continued to fire through her heat sink, going through thirty-three shots in fifteen seconds before pulling the bolt back as she pulled out her HMWSM MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Submachine Gun with her left hand while keeping her Nexus Modulus in her right, and fired the SPECTRE-authorized weapon at full auto, aiming down the middle of the corridor and letting the high-grade weapon prove itself. The muzzle climb was pretty atrocious thanks to the fact that she didn't have a muzzle break on the weapon, not to mention she was firing it one-handed; generally considered a no-no. At a time like this, though? The SPECTRE Submachine Gun was a boon with its forty-five round capacity, hitting with a force near that of a pricey assault rifle but with a more robust heat sink. The overheat alarm went off on the Submachine Gun as Collins pulled the bolt back by pressing it against her right forearm and rocking the weapon forward before slapping it on her armors' hardpoint on her left hip while transitioning back to her Modulus Assault Rifle, continuing to fire.
The Husks were nearly halfway down the corridor, now.
The tide kept coming as a mass of limbs and ear-piercing shrieks came for them, clogging the corridor with their desiccated bodies as the former Human Beings ran and pushed their way forward, thoughtless of the danger of exposing themselves to twelve firers. Sam kept firing as she watch chests, arms, and heads come apart under the wilting fire, molted flesh bursting into pieces as rounds struck at sub-luminal velocities, penetrating the body for maximum damage. Most of the assault rifles could take down a target in two to four rounds, depending on the firer, but the fact of the matter was that despite having twelve active guns in a defensive position, TEAM LION was horribly, horribly outnumbered.
Sam ejected the heat from her rifle as the Husks reached the closest intersection.
The chattering of heavy rifle fire came as Urdnot Wrex and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams fully opened up with their respective light machine guns, mowing down the opposition instead of using suppressive firing techniques to further slow down the pressing wave of enemy. The five Marines were no longer firing in accurate bursts, either, fully utilizing the fully-automatic Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifles to bring down as many targets as fast as possible, alternating who was cooling down and who was firing. Agent Zevin Raeka was threshing through the Husks with her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle, its slow three-round burst able to kill not only a Husk, but likely the one behind it too due to its power. Detective Garrus Vakarian was blazing away with a ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle that looked Rapid Response-issued, each three-round burst ending a Husk as he acquired-and-fired at a rate that was mechanically fast and devastating. Petty Officer Sara Ryder was alternating through her modes-of-fire with her custom M-37 Falcon, firing a five-round burst from her weapon until she rocked the bolt back to cool down the rifle portion while switching to its underbarrel shotgun and pumping six shots of magnum-weight flechette into the teeming mass, her weapon never 'silent'. Captain Shepard was firing transition, moving from one weapon to the next with a fluid grace that spoke of years of practice and experience, moving from M-99 Saber, to SOCOM N7 Hurricane Submachine Gun, and then to AOFI M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol.
Sam doubted that there was a team in the galaxy as dedicated and as proficient as this. And they were still losing.
"Get ready to fall back!" Captain Shepard called out as Collins pulled out both of her handguns; her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver with her left hand, and her Springfield Arms XD Seven-Five Pistol in her right. She fan-fired her Mammothkiller by using her right forearm to cock back the hammer before pulling the trigger, firing the heavy revolver six times in three seconds. She pressed the heat dump lever that exposed the revolving heatsinks as she switched her hands over to fire her Springfield, using her left forearm to steady her firing hand as she pumped all twelve rounds into the approaching mass of converted Humans, able to bring down three with the XD as oppose to the six her Smith and Wesson was able to do. When the heatsink was full on her XD, the slide automatically locked back to convectionally disperse the heat as she switched her hands over again to fire her now-cooled Mammothkiller. Both weapons could cool down in three seconds, meaning she could keep up a constant barrage of fire until she had to reload her three-hundred and seventy-five gram pistol-oriented ammo blocks. Six more Husks fell to her Model 696, and then three more to her Seven-Five.
"Fall back!"
The Marines in the prone were the first to retreat, being closest to the threat as they peeled off by lines, Privates Broussard, Balsach, and Hoss slipping through the lines and occupying the opened turbolift as the next line peeled back, Lance Corporals Ubantu and Jeong along with Chief Ryder leaving next. Collins kept up her murderous fire as she heard the command 'set!' come over Ryders' vox as Collins pivoted and slipped in between Agent Zevin and Detective Vakarian, going just to the inside of the turbolift door and taking a knee inside the conveyance as she dumped heat in both her pistols. The snipers peeled off last as Sam began to fire her pistols once more at the quickly-approaching avalanche of Husks as she heard Sara's M-37 Falcon firing above her in what was known as an 'Israeli Corner', the custom-made weapon firing both a five-round burst and a shotgun blast each time it was fired as Sergeant Williams and Urdnot Wrex took to the other side of the turbolift door, firing their respective shotguns into the teeming mass of enemy.
"Tali! Door!"
The doors slid close from either side of the turbolift as Collins watched one Husk fling itself forward, reaching out in what almost looked to be a sports-oriented lunge to grab something as the doors closed with its head and arm inside the turbolift, not sealing properly.
Oh fuck.
Sam shot the Husk in the head with her XD and fell back on her as as she raised both feet and frog-kicked the offending Husk as hard as she could to force it out as the other Husks slammed into the breech. The big game hunter coolly shoved his Cipritine Armories' Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle into the hole and plugged with full abandon, Wrex devastating the broiling Husks trying to force their way in with withering fire. Sara pulled her right hand back, the air around it shimmering as she made a 'push' motion towards the breech. The air sucked in a little as Sam felt more than saw some sort of tidal force move forward, Husks reeling back less than a meter from what was obviously an use of Biotics.
It was enough as the doors closed.
"Holy shit." Sam panted as she sat on the floor, breathing hard from the spike of adrenaline in her system, sweat beading her face as she got to her feet slowly, trying to take controlled, measured breaths to calm down her heart rate as she emptied the heat in her pistols before checking their ammo wells, exchanging them for full ammo blocks. That had been intense; a bit too much.
Spirits, I wish you were here, the Marshal thought to herself, closing her eyes as she holstered her pistols before checking on her ECS-10 Modulus' ammo block. Her heart ached at the thought, but she quickly brushed it aside. Later, not now.
"That was an interesting firing technique, Marse." Sergeant Williams said through her vox, looking at her through her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Armor's visor, the Colonial Soldier nodding in approval. "By my count, you dropped nine in six seconds. Where did you learn that?"
"Therum." Collins replied simply, memories of being a Frontier Marshal coming back to her upon a hot, red-and-brown planet in which miners were the local fauna. More memories not needed now. She looked a the turbolift's digital reader and saw that they were at Deck Five. The Lion was going to make them do the process again and again until all the Husks were cleared out. Sam didn't contradict it; it was working, and with the exception of one small stab wound, they had gotten away with killing well over a thousand Husks without sustaining a real casualty or fatality.
The Marshal knew that the reputation of N's was… inflated, to push out to others how good Alliance Special Forces were. Nothing wrong with that, of course; Sam suspected that the other races vaulted their own abilities and statistics as well for the same reason. But the Lion was the real deal, a combatant of lethal skills and tactics, smart and capable. When her husband had ventured the thought of selecting a Human as a Level Three SPECTRE, both Nihlus and herself had researched and investigated several candidates to find a candidate. Dozens had been selected by their notoriety and reputations, ranging from Special Forces to even a cop in Johannesburg, but it had boiled down to three likely selections; Jane Catherine Shepard, Donald Robert McGregor, and Yancy Estrella Alvarez.
Both herself and Kryik knew that then-Commander Jane Shepard was the easy win, but there had been little issues that they hadn't been too sure about, such as her view and interactions with non-Humans (especially Turians), and the fact that the Alliance might not want to lose the Lion to the Council. Still, Shepard had been investigated, Collins doing the work herself instead of having someone else who knew too little (or assumed too much) about Human Beings. If there was anything to know about the N7, Sam knew about it and vetted it. The woman was a superior tactician, a robust warrior, damn intelligent, and had a great deal of love and respect for her 'extended' family (though none for her own mother, Collins knowing of the incident that sparked that estrangement). She had investigated the other two as well, and likely Lieutenant Commander McGregor and Yancy Alvarez would end up SPECTREs themselves in the future. It simply wouldn't do just to have one Human SPECTRE when Level Three Public SPECTREs were known to have such a… limited timeline.
"We're here. Get ready." The Normandy's Commanding Officer announced as Sam pulled out her Nexus ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle, checking the heat index and the ammo block out of habit before shouldering the weapon. "Give or take, about two thousand more to go."
Torfan wasn't nearly so bad as this, the Federal Marshal thought to herself once more as the turbolift doors opened to Deck Five, and TEAM LION breeched the corridor.
Special Reconnaissance Agent Mannovai Janoir Ye'ili Tavac Zevin Raeka stepped onto Deck Six with Detective Garrus Vakarian immediately behind her as the female Salarian put her Ariake Technologies' M-90 Indra Automatic Sniper Rifle to her right shoulder, her eye looking down the SMARTScope customized for the weapon, meant to compensate for recoil, muzzle climb, and minute-of-angle as she stood in a proper stance; two-toed feet shoulder-width apart, left in front, right slightly bent, stooped forward at the hips. Her greater height meant she could fire over Marshal Sam Collins with little issue, her sniper rifle practically extending past the Human lawman's shoulder. Captain Jane Shepard was minifacturing a disposable reconnaissance drone out of PlastiGel and OmniGel, using a programmable protein chip with micro contragravity properties and simple orders to convey the mamaly fruit-sized drone towards the end of the corridor that would reach the Atrium. This would be the fourth time they would have done this, with Decks Eight, Three, and Five now.
They were getting quite good at it, sadly.
"Here we go." The Human SPECTRE called out as the drone slipped out of the corridor and did as it was programmed; it started playing some song called "Shorty Wanna Be A Thug" by some Human musician named Tupac Shakur (surely the Human males' name wasn't in reference to a scrotum, was it?). The beginning antiquated bass-and-drum line and forcefully-spoken lyrics had horn-piercing shrieks and screams erupting from the Atrium and echoing down the corridor as the drone relayed telemetry to Shepard's SPECTRE Armor, no doubt giving her a count of moving targets. In less than a minute, the first target came into view through the opened portal, still on the other side. The Husks' head exploded messily as it was introduced to a round from a Kassa Fabrications' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle courtesy of their Rapid Response Sniper. The gunshot was loud in the corridor, and the shrieks began to draw closer.
The next Husk that appeared was downed with a gentle squeeze of Raeka's forefinger.
More Husks came, similar to last time. Zevin noted how many, how quickly, and how packed they were as Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams fired the next shot through her Kassa Fabrications' M-92 Mantis, a Husks' body crumpling with the shot as it was pushed aside by those speeding towards the opened portal. Zevin fired five precise rounds aided by her heightened attention and reaction, biological advantages that all Salarians possessed over their galactic kin. Never was a round wasted as she fired again and again when it was her turn, using the firing line tactic that worked best in such a confined space; maximum totality for fewest rounds fired. Husks were engaged and eliminated with breath-taking ease as they grew closer, pushing forward as they sprinted towards TEAM LION in an effort to kill them all.
Zevin pulled her heat dispensing lever as soon as the last round of her timed five-shot burst brought down another Husk, cooling her weapon down as she exchanged it for her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle.
Husks came, staggering under the fuselage of rounds, black ocher and desiccated flesh sloughing off as they approached the furthest intersection, the shrieks coming louder and closer as Raeka put powerful three-round bursts from her Argus into a Husk, angling her weapon slightly downward to compensate for its heavy muzzle climb and recoil. The Turian-oriented weapon was meant for Heavy Hasti Infantry, a Krogan-killing weapon that delivered more than enough kiloJoules to snap a kinetic shield and break armored ceramic plates within two bursts of the weapon. As a Special Tasks Group Agent who was a forward observer meant to eliminate threats before they truly became up to no good, the Argus was her weapon of choice when a real problem surfaced. As smart as she was, Raeka knew that the galaxy was ruled and controlled by force, and those too weak would simply be swept away.
She would be no one's pawn. Never again.
The Husks reached the furthest intersection as the Salarian Not-Dalatrass moved from her Argus to her Indra, letting the battle rifle cool down as she engaged targets with her automatic sniper rifle when it was her turn in the firing line. Never had she been a part of a contest so lop-sided, and yet the reverse was true as well; if the Husks reached them, TEAM LION would be killed in seconds. Despite their advancements, modifications, and superior tech, only guns were being used, and rightfully so. She herself wasn't about to use one of her many wonderfully-crafted programs upon the Husks; no one wanted a burning Husk running towards them, after all! The enemy was simple, mindless, and without range weaponry. Despite it merely being a shooting contest, Raeka recognized that their efforts were smart and methodical; maximizing the enemy's losses while keeping their own abilities primed and ready if something unforeseen happened. Shepard knew her business, for which the STG Agent was glad to see. She was a credit to her charmingly rustic race.
The Husks were halfway down the corridor when she switched her Indra for her Argus again, when she saw something different.
"Gaps." Raeka called out, beginning to see what she had been hoping to see; breaks in the tide of Husks. The total population had been decimated enough that there was no longer a full press of altered bodies bearing down on them like a rock slide. She calmly shot a Husk, and was amused to see that it fell over without being pushed down, shoved aside, or trampled upon by its reserve brethren behind it. It took over a full second for another to replace it, gunned down by Detective Vakarian and his ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, and that one merely fell to the ground, too. In fact, Raeka saw a part of the wall behind the press of Husks, and even the 'carpet' as the Humans so barbarically called the path of corpses. Vakarian was right; Humans were weird. "Perhaps dozens to a hundred left."
"Soak!" Shepard called out, the SPECTRE calling out a Turian tactic that meant to fire as quickly as possible in a tight arc. Raeka switched her Argus for her Indra as she fired all forty shots at once, sweeping back and forth from one end of the corridor o the other to punish as many as possible, as everyone else did the same. The advance halted in place as Husks died, some of their bodies practically melting under the full barrage of fire as a pile of bodies grew at the line. The stampede… was faltering.
Finally.
The Not-Dalatrass transitioned from her sniper rifle to her battle rifle as she quickly fired on targets with her heavy battle rifle, firing as fast as she could while still remaining on target, seeing the flood reduced to a flow, only a couple of Husks trying to climb over the hill of their fallen brethren only to be shot and killed. There were seven in all, quickly gunned down. Then five. Gunned down. Four. Gunned down.
For five seconds… nothing.
"Port side, cool and reload blocks!" Shepard sharply ordered as Agent Zevin pulled her heat dispensing lever back on her Argus while ejecting her two-thirds spent ammo block and sliding a full one into the well, the partial lying on the ground as the Not-Dalatrass aimed down the corridor after popping forward her lever, her weapon ready to engage. "Starboard, cool and reload!" The right hand side of TEAM LION mimicked the process as one-third of the team became combat ineffective momentarily to ready their respective weapons to full efficiency, the Council SPECTRE utilizing the lull in battle wisely. "Midships, cool and reload!" The last of the squad finished the process, and in less than five seconds, everyone had fresh weapons. "Fifteen second breather, folks. Agent Zevin? Give me an eye in the Atrium, center of the room, starting from the top and going to the bottom. I want a bio-sign readout; living and dead."
"Affirmative." The STG Agent complied as she slid her Argus on her chest, locking it magnetically to her chest piece as she took a knee and queued up her left gauntlets' Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool, looking through the apps on home page and picking 'drones'. The program spooled up as it brought up a menu with five pre-programmed protein chip selections, and the Not-Dalatrass selected a simple reconnaissance drone, looking through a sub-menu at pre-loaded scripts on her OmniTools' view to refine which kind of drone she needed. Raeka picked a simple package of 'observation/surveillance' with two host sub-daemon routines of 'alert' and 'Little Sister'. Her Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Armor's minifacturing suite began creating an aerogel shell around the programmed protein chip, the drone finishing in fifteen seconds as it floated upward. "Little Sister? Scan and identify."
The drone complied as Zevins' orders were translated through her Natural Language User Interface System, the aerogel drone zipping down the corridor as faint blue wide-arc beams emanated from its surface, tracing over the surfaces and bodies in the corridor as it headed towards the Atrium, Raeka's left hand guiding the drone remotely by tilting her hand in the direction she wished for it to go. Its telemetry data was being wirelessly sent back to her, in which Zevin was seeing highlights through the Augmented Relay Eyepiece of her helmets' left ocular viewer, displaying the Husks as holographic bodies. Little Sister moved forward as Zevin remotely piloted the drone into the Atrium, clearing the immediate level of Deck Six, the area surrounding the portal entering the corridor clear of hostiles. So far, all she could see were red holographic representations of dead bodies. No movement.
"Immediate area clear." Agent Zevin said softly through her vox as she continued piloting the drone, heading it upward through the large open area of the Atrium, towards Deck Three. She let little Sister scan the balconies of Deck Three, noting the carnage they had unleashed shooting those first Husks still in the Atrium and some of the round that undoubtedly had struck through one Husk and into another to kill some of its deeper brethren, each body tagged red for dead. So far, no movement. "Little Sister? Let us take a file from the Human Codex and get some attention. Play… 'Nymphetamine Girl'."
"Cradle of Filth?" Petty Officer Sara Ryder asked, sounding bemused through her vox. Evidently, the Human knew of the Asari-Batarian fusion band. Well, she was Cit-born; brought to the galaxy and raised in the multi-cultural cacophony of cultures and values that made up the Citadel. The fact that Sara knew of the operatic Asari and Batarian extreme rock fusion band really didn't surprise her. Zevin Yalis, Raeka's younger sister and Dalatrass-to-be when she assumed command of Clan Zevin-of-Mannovai, absolutely hated the song. Which was why Raeka would play it at top volume whenever she visited her sister and her clutch. The song was loud enough from her drone in the Atrium for it to echo down into the corridor softly. "Fold to my arms, hold to their mesmeric sway; dance to the moon, as we did in those golden days…" Ryder sang softly, her vox picking it up and transmitting it softly through her helmets' external speaker, singing in time with some of the lyrics of the song.
"Wait a moment to see if motion sensors tracks any movement." Raeka inputted to TEAM LION, knowing that impatience and assumption were generally the leading causes of death and failure during missions and combat situations. She didn't doubt that the Humans wanted to locate survivors, but the only way to do that was to have the rescue team survive the ordeal. They wouldn't be rescuing anyone if they had to carry their own back first. The song played as the drone began a lap around the balcony of Deck Six, Raeka guiding the drone with her left hand while she viewed its layouts through her left eyepiece, not seeing any movements. She noted that there were several Dragons' Teeth (what a barbaric name!) on the level, but all were without bodies. Little Sister finished the lap a minute later, and found nothing of note, not even bodies. "It appears that the Deck Six balcony is clear. I advise caution."
"Agreed." Shepard replied, nodding her armored head. "Bastila? Make us a beachhead." The Council Agents' armored contragravity assault turret disengaged from her back as it floated forward, traveling down the corridor with its duel-coaxial pivoting machine guns at the ready. Raeka noted where 'Bastila' was located, several meters in front of the door leading onto the balcony, controlling her Little Sister drone to park practically on top of the assault turret. "Wrex, Ash, move forward and establish a perimeter. Prepare to retreat-by-fire if necessary." The Krogan big game hunter and the Human Sergeant First Class moved forward, their respective machine guns in their hands as they stalked forward side-by-side. It took them several moments to reach the end of the corridor, pausing by the door a moment to take cover behind its frame before the Krogan rounded and breached through the opened portal, followed by the Human female. Seconds ticked by as the two gunners set an established position on the other side, the STG Agent able to see them through her reconnaissance drone, seeing that both Krogan and Human had established a position to the flanks of Bastila to where the assault turret could be utilized if necessary without being in the way of its weapons.
"Position set, Skipper." Williams' voice came over the SquadCom, quiet but assured. "Quiet as a tomb. Don't like it."
"Marines, move forward. Snipers, establish rearguard." The N7 commanded as the Marine Privates moved forward in the same fashion as Sergeant Williams had, their Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifles up and ready as the Lance Corporals and their Petty Officer Corpsman followed behind them, their own weapons at the low-ready as not to flag their comrades. Captain Shepard and Marshal Collins moved forward, indicating to Detective Vakarian and herself to move afters the Turian and the Salarian following the Human SPECTREs. The corridor was difficult to traverse with the amount of bodies clogging its path, Raeka snicking her lipless mouth as she did her best to step over them as best she could out of safety. It took a few minutes for the entirety of TEAM LION to establish themselves on the balcony of Deck Six, entering the Atrium for the first time.
It was opulent… for Humanity, Zevin Raeka mused to herself as she took in the sight of the circular balcony with its tables and chairs set out for Humans to lounge and gather together, beverage and appetizer kiosks lining the bulkhead of the circular Atrium, ringing the outside of the Deck's balcony to optimize the central opening for families to gather and take in the sight of the multi-Deck gap. Raeka snorted at the sight of several Starbucks kiosks, more of those than there were alcohol-related kiosks. Mankind's greatest contribution to the galaxy, and they certainly didn't let anyone forget it. Holographic advertisement signs were still active over the kiosks as holovision monitors on the walls displayed scheduled events throughout the ship, indicating what Deck and Section said event happened to be located at. The Atrium was brightly-lit, festively colored, and utterly devoid of sapient beings. Chairs and tables had been knocked to the deck, trash and debris littered the balcony, and a dozen Dragons' Teeth set up to the left-hand side of where they were located, the tripods' center spine retracted into the device, nothing gracing it.
"Zevin, have your drone start checking Deck Three." The Captain ordered as Raeka complied. Little Sister began to move as Raeka remote piloted the drone with her left hand once more, her M-90 Indra hard-locked to her chest to free up her hands. "Ghost? Travel downward to Deck Eight. Detective? Make us a drone and start checking Deck Five." Those were the Decks that they had stood their ground at by the turbolifts, shooting at the tide of Husks. There had been only two Decks they hadn't done it too; Decks Four and Seven. It was obvious that the Level Three Council Agent was going to get eyes-on the Decks they had massacred the Husks at, double-checking their work and clearing the area first before trying to do the same for the two Decks they hadn't done it for. Captain Shepard wasn't foolish enough to push them forward without achieving an amount of intelligence indicating enemy composition and numbers. For all they knew, there might still be active Get hardware platforms upon the ACV Horizon, put into a low-powered state or held back for a tactical strike. The 'Lion' was playing it smart and safe, not adding any unnecessary risk to her team when there was no need to do so. Now was not the time for audacity.
Raeka's reconnaissance drone maneuvered up a spiraling staircase that went from Deck Six to Deck Three, her left ocular piece noting anything that go within the drones' twenty-five meter sensor range, guiding the drone with her left hand. It took a few moments for the drone to navigate its way through the Deck's floor plan, having to go up one staircase, circumvent a portion of Deck Five to reach the connecting upward staircase to Deck Four, and then once more to reach the staircase on the opposite side to reach Deck Three. As it had with Deck Six, the reconnaissance drone performed a circuit around the balcony in search of any sapients and creatures, both living and dead. The drone noted more than a few dead bodies of the Husks who had been shot before reaching the door to the corridor, vital signs at zero. Anything with an actual vital sign, Husk or Human?
There were none.
"I am detecting no friendly or threat presence, Captain." Raeka informed the N7 and TEAM LION. "I advise caution. We know little of the Husks and the Geth. They could possibly spoof electronic telemetry."
"Sound advice. Seen enough of that sort of thing on the Cit to know that it's a possibility." Detective Vakarian seconded, his helmeted head looking to the Human.
"I concur. Team?" Shepard waved a hand and her drone Ghost returned towards its position hovering over her left shoulder while Bastila moved to attach itself to her back, its co-axial guns folding forward over her shoulders to provide extra firepower, "Move in Alpha Formation, and steer clear of any bodies and Dragons' Teeth. We'll use the staircases to reach Deck Eight and move forward to the engine core. Tempo is set for infiltration in a successive bounding overwatch move. If you see a threat, call it out, but do not engage unless it is about to engage you. We don't need to be swarmed out in the open." TEAM LION moved into Alpha Formation, a four sapient-wide front with two squads behind them, one to flex for flanking and assault, and the last for rearguard and security. Captain Shepard led the first squad, flanked by Urdnot Wrex, Sergeant Ashley Williams, and Marshal Sam Collins. The second squad was filled with the Human Marines; Broussard, Balsach, Ubantu, and Hoss filling in the roles as Human Marines were taught and trained to do, as Zevin understood it. The last squad was occupied by herself, Detective Garrus Vakarian, Lance Corporal Hong Jeong, and Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder. "Detective? You have command of secondary teams upon engagement.
"Let's move out."
Pretty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder stalked down the steps of the semi-circular staircase that connected Deck Six to Deck Seven as the third squad of the Alpha Formation moved downward towards the Orlop Deck of the ACV Horizon, her Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon M-37 Falcon heavy but reassuring in her hands. She had taken the inner-curve the staircase, her eyes on the near side of Deck Five while Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong limped along on the outer curve, keeping an eye on the farside of Deck Seven, across the empty cylindrical space of the Atrium and onto the opposite balcony. The first squad with Auntie had already secured the top of the staircase moving from Decks Seven to Eight while the second squad secured the bottom of the Deck Seven staircase while Sara's squad moved from Decks Six to Seven. When they reached the bottom, the Marine Line would move to Aunties' line, securing the position before the first squad moved forward to Deck Eighth. At all times, each position would be held in case a tactical retreat or reassessment was needed. A successive bounding overwatch movement was a slow-paced movement in which high-security was gained and maintained at all times in an area with known hostile forces. For this situation, it was the more appropriate speed; steady and protective.
"K-Pop? How's your ankle?"
"Fucking hurts like a bastard, Doc." Sara winced at the forced neutral tone in Lancie Jeong's voice, the Marine obviously trying to tough it out, but knowing it was likely an unwise decision. "Feels hot, and there's shooting pain going from my foot all the way to my hip, like pins and needles or hot sand." That seemed unusual as hell, but Ryder noted that Hong had been stabbed in the ankle by some Husk. There was a cluster of nerves in the ankle for the myriad of movements and responses for the foot, so integral for a two-legged being to walk balanced and properly. Perhaps it had been injured. The darker side of that thought was…
…what if there was a reaction to what the Husk had stabbed K-Pop with? Like an allergic reaction… or perhaps a delivery of some neurotoxin to cripple a potential candidate?
"We get to the engine core, we secure it, and I'll check on it there." The Corpsman replied, cursing herself for not thinking of that earlier. Between having four decks of massive clearing operations in which they had retreated from three of, and the turbolift ride into the next unsecured location, there really hadn't been the time or the location to do so. Sara would have to had escort Lancie Jeong back to the Bridge for a semi-proper evaluation, reducing the assault team down to ten. As Decks Eight, Three, Six, and Five had proved, every person was needed. The Lord only knew how much worse it would have been if they had been down to ten. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Niki'Raan nar Tombay, and Doctor Liara T'soni were pulling security on the Command Deck, and pulling two of them to replace herself and Jeong wouldn't have been… well-advised. Sara couldn't provide medical attention and provide security at the same time. Likewise, bringing attention to the Command Deck was ill-advised as well. If there were hostile forces such as the Geth still on the Horizon, it would be better that their attention be on the more active portion of TEAM LION. Kaidan was not only securing the Bridge, but their own escape route as well.
That Milkor SuperSix M32 MPML Objective Weapon would have been handy in the corridors filled with Husks. Oh well.
"I'll make it, Doc." The Lance Corporal replied as he limped along, his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle still in the up-and-ready position, tight against his shoulder and weapon sweeping his sector of fire as STG Agent Zevin Raeka and Detective Garrus Vakarian moved behind them, pulling rear security while Sara and Hong pulled long security. They reached the bottom of the staircase and replaced the four Marines of the second squad, each of them getting into a position next to a Marine as Lance Corporal Oblong ' Kenyan' Ubantu led the four Marines around the balcony of Deck Seven, having to traverse halfway around the deck to reach the staircase leading from Decks Seven to Eight, where Auntie and her squad were taking a knee and pulling security. Deck Seven hadn't been turned into a shooting-fish-in-a-barrel scenario like four of the other decks, and there was the possibility of there might still be active Husks on the Deck. Thankfully, there were no Husk bodies, living or dead, apparent around the inner tract of the balcony of Deck Seven as Sara took to her sector of fire, the so called 'Green Sector' that involved the nine-to-twelve position on the clock. She had one half of the balcony, the forward position that would have something coming from the other corridors to approach them while Detective Vakarian had the 'Blue Sector' that was six-to-nine, anything coming from behind on Deck Seven. Jeong had the 'Red Sector' of twelve-to-three, which was where the first and second squad happened to be, as well as anything on the far side of the balcony, and Agent Zevin had the 'White Sector' of three-to-six, completing the circle that would provide what was known as '360 degree security'. If movement was spotted, the person in charge of that sector would call it out, providing the color so all team members would know where said threat was regardless of their own personal position.
The second squad of four replaced the first in their positions, Marines taking knee as Auntie lead her squad down the semi-circular staircase to Deck Eight a step at a time.
"No contacts." Captain Shepard's voice came over the SquadCom, indicating they had reached the base of the staircase and had landed at the foot of Deck Eight, nothing attacking them or any perceived threat present. "Third Squad, move forward." Vakarian clicked his mandibles in response, a common answer on radios for Hierarchists, and Sara stepped from her defensive posture and moved forward, sweeping her weapon in a narrow arc in front of her to target any potential threats. Despite that the area having been cleared by the forward two squads, the battlefield was an ever-changing place that could host many a surprise, so Ryder didn't assume that they were safe at the moment as her M-37 Falcon kept to its forward forty-five degree angle sweep, moving at a quarter-time pace while in an isosceles stance; knees slightly bent, and her body bent forward at the hips while keeping her back straight. It offered recoil absorption, balance, and the ability to engage targets on a solid platform while keeping the heavier portion of her hardened ceramic plates upon the front of her chest forward towards a potential shooter as oppose to the thinner, more malleable ribs. K-Pop was right behind her, and Sara could hear him grunt every few steps as he continued on-mission, ignoring the pain his ankle undoubtedly felt as they circled around the balcony where the second squad was holding the top of the staircase, Agent Zevin and Detective Vakarian bringing up the rear.
Ryder replaced Brasserie when the third squad relieved the second squad of their position, the Marines moving down the spiraling staircase to Auntie's position, where they reached the position approximately two or so minutes later.
"Moving to corridor access."
Sara covered her sector of fire with her Falcon, having taken a knee on her right knee as she scanned the green sector, still haven't seen any signs of life, Human or Husk. Somehow, that made it worse, a feeling in her gut. She waited to hear Aunties' voice again, knowing that the first squad was heading towards the access that would take them to the stern of the vessel, to where the engine core laid in the two sub-decks below the Orlop Deck, what was known as Deck Eight. Surprisingly, they had probably 'cleared' approximately a third of the ship just by holding off the waves of Husks on the four decks, though technically the Atrium was right in the midships of the Horizon, meaning that it was mirrored to the other side. Hopefully, the Geth had gathered everyone in the Atrium to convert people, as sad and as sickening as it sounded. VBSS Ops were fraught with danger even in the best of conditions, and this was far from that.
"We're at access. Third squad, move to my position. Second squad, secure tactical retreat point at the base of the staircase." Captain Shepard's voice came over the SquadComm, giving out commands. Sara heard Vakarian click his mandibles once more, indicating acknowledgment and Sara got onto her feet, moving down the spiraling staircase that looped halfway around the circumference of the inner tract of the balcony, a long, low-slop decline that was meant for both moving from deck-to-deck as well as for people to look up and down at the Atrium with its central fountain. A burst of memory had her remembering her and Scottie running up and down these very stairs, the echoes of childish laughter ringing in her ears. She must have grunted or moved differently for a moment, as Garrus noted something.
"Is all well, Doc?" The Turian asked, his attention no doubt hyper-vigilant. As theirs all were.
"Memories." Ryder admitted, still sweeping in front of her as she tactically bounded forward down the staircase. "Me and Scottie slid down the banister of this exact staircase." The slope was too shallow for them to have done so at a fast pace, but the ten-year old twins hadn't cared. One of the Horizon's Guest Services Representatives had caught them causing mayhem, and had taken an ashamed Sara and not-so-ashamed Scott to their father when confronted. Sara remembered Dad being more amused than admonishing. "Scottie would have hated to see this." She had fond memories of Ryder family trip on the inaugural cruise of the ACV Horizon, but her twin brother had been enchanted by it, the Horizon almost being his personal playground.
"Back on the clock, kiddo." Auntie reminded her gently, her tone caring. This mission would likely affect them all, even the non-Humans. This could have easily been any number of ships belonging to any species. Seeing so many people turned into Husks, the absolute number? It was soul-crushing.
"Aye aye, ma'am." Ryder responded, shaking away the memories as she reached the bottom of the staircase, slipping by the second squad that would hold the final protective line if they needed to make a retreat, the Marines holding position and pulling security. Unlike the turbolift and the corridors earlier, they wouldn't have the advantage of a well-crafted and well-chosen position in which to funnel the enemy. If the next corridor was stuffed full of Husks, things would likely get ugly. But it was their job to reach the engine core. Sara continued to tactically bound forward to where the first squad was positioned, consolidating the two squads together as she took a position that Humanity's First SPECTRE had pointed out for her; in the low-ready at the frame of the access door's port side, with Auntie in a standing position right beside her, and then Urdnot Wrex right behind her. On the starboard side was Marshal Sam Collins on one knee in the low-ready, with Sergeant Ashley Williams standing above her, and then Garrus Vakarian next to her. It was a Turian tactic that was similar to an Israeli Corner Clearing tactic; when the door opened, three people on each side would clear the funnel with six weapons, two at the immediate corner while the third person stepped sideways right into the fatal funnel for maximum coverage and superior firepower. Raeka and K-Pop stood to either side of the team outside of the stack, auxiliary members that could be flexed as the situation dictated but otherwise pulling rear security for the time being.
"Tali? Open Atrium Deck Eight door to Stern on count of three." Sara looked over to Sam, the both of them holding their respective rifles at the ready, muzzles nearly dragging into the deck as they hunched forward, ready to pivot and clear the corridor as soon as the door opened. It could be an empty corridor, it could be stuffed with Husks. There were still a couple hundred personnel on the ship that hadn't been 'accounted' for, using the bodies of the Husks as a measuring stick. They could be anywhere on the ship, Human or Husk.
"One." The Quarian females' voice came over the SquadComm, readying them for the breach. "Two… Three!"
The Duraplast door split open and slid apart, and Sara pivoted on her left knee, sliding her right foot right past the frame of the door as her weapon went up and forward right next to the entrances' frame, the muzzle of her M-37 Falcon clearing the immediate sector in front of her while Auntie pivoted at the same time, clearing the far end of the port side of the corridor while the Krogan big game hunter stepped one step to the left and cleared the center of the corridor, the starboard team mirroring their actions at the same time, executing the maneuver flawlessly.
The near-three hundred meter corridor was empty. The Corpsman wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
"Ryder, Collins, move forward to the first door and hold position." The Captain ordered, and Sara slid out of her position and began to move forward along with Collins, sticking to her side of the corridor with her Falcon trained towards the first door, a guest room. Both Human women took a knee just short of the door, both Sara and Sam calling 'set' when they had gained their position. "Successive bounding overwatch. Wrex, Williams, clear first intersection." The Krogan and Colonial Soldier were soon moving past the Navy Corpsman as the stalked towards the intersection that cut through the corridor, both of them gripping their respective machine guns as they reached their position moments later, holding the corners and clearing the perpendicular corridor. "Zevin, K-Pop, first door past first intersection." Two more members moved forward, the Not-Dalatrass and the Marine Lance Corporal moving forward, Lancie Jeong limping but keeping up with Raeka as they went past Wrex and Williams, holding a similar position like she and Collins were but ahead of the corridor. "Myself and Vakarian, second intersection." Humanity's First SPECTRE and the Rapid Response Sniper went next, traveling nearly two hundred meters down the partially-held corridor to reach the next perpendicular corridor. "Second squad, two men move to first position, the other two pull rear security at corridor access. Ryder and Collins, move to turbolift access when rear security is established." Both the Corpsman and the Marshal readied themselves as the team of four Marines moved from their position at the base of the staircase. A couple of moments later, Private First Class Holland Hoss and Private Nathanial Balsach were replacing the two women in HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, releasing them to bound forward. Sara and Sam moved together, keeping at the same pace and line with each other without words as the Corpsman passed each member of TEAM LION as she went deeper into the corridor to their next position; the turbolift that would take them keelward towards the Engine Room in Decks Nine and Ten in the two stern Sub-Decks that were separated from their companion Sub-Decks at the bow. It took them several moments to reach their destination, moving at a half-time pace with their weapons up and pointing at the turbolift door as they past guest room doors and intersections, finally passing Auntie and Garrus' position. Sara and Sam reached the closed door, and Sara called out 'set'.
"Prepare to clear turbolift." Auntie ordered them as Ryder readied her M-37 Falcon by flipping the engagement switch to 'fun', while the Butcher locked her Nexus ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle on her chest and pulled out her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver in her left hand and her Springfield Arms XD Seven-Five Pistol in her right. They stood to either side of the access door, nodding once to each other.
"Tali? Open stern turbolift access." Ryder called out, and the door opened as both women rounded the corner to clear the conveyance.
It was empty.
"Clear!" The Corpsman called out.
Captain Jane Shepard let out a sigh of relief as they finally finished clearing the Engine Room, the Horizons' MERKAVA fifteen PetaWattz engine running at a low-powered state, enough to keep artificial gravity, environmentals, inertia dampeners, and orbit. Tali'Zorah had re-routed power from a few unnecessaries to bring the Cruiser-Class vessel into a lockdown, but for the most part the Horizon was only running at fifteen percent power; enough to keep them from crashing into either Rayingri or Vahtz. When the Geth had decided to fuck with the Horizon, they had pulled the engines off from the electronic servers, meaning that manual control would be needed until the lines were reconnected to where the Bridge could control the engine and power once more. It seemed… odd. Why turn a ship into a Flying Dutchman, park it in between two crashing planets, and leave it with next to no power? Bait was the only thing that came to mind, but Jannie would assume that at the very worst, a responder would only lose a small team to the Husk, and then put rounds through the vessel and sink it to impact on one of the planets. Not much in the way of bait.
"Okay, folks." The Human SPECTRE announced, looking at her twelve-man team that had cleared and secured the large Core Room, finding no bodies in the compartment, either living or dead. Something was off, something was wrong, but it hadn't happened yet. Whatever it was, Jannie doubted TEAM LION would be enough if it were a shitstorm. Her first guess was that the Geth had likely fucked several programs over into self-replicating software to infect other ships that encountered the Horizon, using the Liner as bait for rescue attempts. Probably the only reason it hadn't happened yet was that the SSV Normandy was a stealth ship, and the Geth utterly reliant on electronic sensors, in which the vessel was invisible. "Core is secure. Chief Holloway? I want three Engineers transported from the Normandy to the Horizon with the intent to jump-start this vessel into maneuvers. There's a small maintenance airlock on the aft portion of the keel connecting to the Engine Room, and that will be the insertion point."
"Yes, ma'am." The Air Force pilot replied from the UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transportation Vessel, the Rey Kenobi having been on stand-by for the mission to be flexed out for whatever was needed.
"Permission to do medical evaluation?" Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder asked, her best friend and Second looking to her through the visor of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, standing beside Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong, who was standing against a bulkhead, sagging against it. For the past few minutes, he had moving as if he were the worse for wear. He had been stabbed earlier by a Husk (Jannie hadn't seen it happen) and the Lancie looked to be in real pain, having toughed it out for the past half-hour or so.
"Granted." Shepard nodded, knowing that medical evaluations general came after situations unless the wound was dire. Private Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk had been shot in the chest, right in the region of his lung and heart, forcing Sara to excuse herself from an active firefight to administer life-saving actions. She had been back in the fight no more than thirty seconds later, having plugged the wound with Kurlex, inducing a needle decompression, and administering an IV filled with HeXtend fluids. That had been a medical trauma rated as an 'Urgent-Surgical', where MEDEVAC was needed in less than thirty minutes. Sara's actions had kept Holodansk alive for well over an hour in a cave, through movement, and on the surface of Therum. Sara was a Doc through-and-through. For Jeong, he had a more 'Routine' injury, meaning it was prioritized last. But since they were at their objective, the area was secured, and none of TEAM LION was a rated Coreman, now was the perfect time for Ryder to check on K-Pop's injury. "Bra? You're Doc's nurse." Private First Class Louis Broussard nodded as he moved to where Sara was gently aiding Hong to a sitting position. The other Marines were holding position by the Engine Room's closed-and-locked door, pulling security along with Urdnot Wrex, the Krogan big game hunter cradling his Nakmor Arms' Graal Hunting Shotgun, ready to obliterate anything that might try to force its way through the door.
"Captain? I have a feeling." Detective Garrus Vakarian approached her, the helmet to his Rapid Response Unit-issued Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Armor taken off to reveal his plated face, fringe, and cobalt colonial markings. The Turian Rapid Response Sniper stood next to her, his flanged voice soft enough to keep to her ears and her ears alone as Jannie took off her own SPECTRE helmet, the helmet retracting and semi-collapsing itself to a point behind her neck for quick deployment. "This vessel, I think it's merely a distraction to the real threat. Any military vessel that discovered the possibility that there would be little left to save here would merely hole the ship and crash it to deny the Geth the vessel. One would lose perhaps a rescue team at most as oppose to several in a real trap. This isn't the effort; it doesn't add up."
"I was thinking the same thing." Shepard replied, looking to Vakarian. True, she didn't like Turians, though in recent years she had gotten better to identify individuals worth looking past their species. Garrus Vakarian was Academy-trained, a part of Hierarchy Special Forces, a Shanxi Vet (for the Turians), a Detective for the most elite law enforcement branch in the galaxy, the C-SEC Special Crimes Unit, and a Sniper in what most considered the best SWAT unit in the galaxy, C-SEC's Rapid Response Unit. How Garrus wasn't a SPECTRE himself was honestly lost on Jannie. His armor and weapons were damn good instruments that he had furthered modified to be even better, his skills were exemplary, and tactically he was damn near without flaw. The redhead wasn't exactly sure if she were 'better' than him, and if they had been put in an equal status with equal equipment, Jannie wouldn't be sure if she could come out on top. That only spoke of Vakarians' dedication and professionalism. He was absolutely lethal ad long range, medium range, and close range, with a deep knowledge of tactics and positions, an expert at basic and advanced maneuvers and techniques. Jannie was publicly considered one of the best Human combatants, but stacked against a Turian contemporary? She now knew what the differences were. No wonder why some of the non-Humans held Terrans in such contempt; they really were a few rungs down on the ladder for some really good reasons. "The Xterra. I think it's a Flying Dutchman." The Turian looked at her with a cocked head, obviously not getting the reference. "A ghost ship of the damned meant to lure sailors to their doom. This ship, on the other hand? It's a Judas Goat; a tied-up piece of prey meant to lure in a predator so the hunter can kill it, losing the prey in the process."
"Yes, that would make sense. I don't see what the Geth would need for a vessel of such size and… leave it in such an unlikely location save to bring out the ship-hunters." The former Blackwatch Sniper nodded. "The Normandy didn't contact this vessel, nor did it fire upon it. There must be Geth in this system, in a dormant sate perhaps, but they can't 'see' the target because we haven't presented one. I believe you are right, the SSV Xterra is your 'Trojan Horse' to board and assimilate vessels with Geth software and Husks. Killing Humanity piecemeal at a time…"
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"
The sound of Private Louis Broussard's voice shouting out as both Brassiere and Doc Ryder jumped backwards a good meter had Jannie grabbing at her Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol on her left thigh, drawing it and extending it into combat operations in one smooth motion as her attention went to the scene. Both Marine and Corpsman were looking towards Lance Corporal Jeong, their expressions… shocked. Bra was hoisting his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle, pointing it at the Marine sitting on the floor and leaning against the bulkhead while Sara drew her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver, the Mammothkiller's barrel pointing at the deck above them instead of aiming. Her face was a mask of… confusion, shock, pain.
Jannie looked to Lancie Jeong… and felt her heart leap up in her throat.
"Oh my fucking God…" Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams spoke as she moved to see what had startled the Marine and Corpsman, and the Colonial Soldiers' jaw dropped. "What in the good Goddamn fuck…?" Her tone was in revolting awe as everyone was staring at K-Pop.
Jannie looked at the Marine in question, his helmet off for a standard medical assessment by Doc Ryder. When he had taken his helmet off, it had sparked the reaction that had everyones' attention on the Lance Corporal. Shepard looked at the Marine sitting there with his sallow pale skin, sunken eyes, tufts of hair having come off from his head, his lips pulled back, cracked and parched, while a web of black spidery lines grew from his neck appeared from above his Kassa Fabrications' Colossus Medium Engagement Armor, his veins engorged, distended, and discolored to an almost violet hue. Yet it was his eyes that told his story, his normally-dark Orient irises having paled to a vibrant blue color while his sockets leaked a thick fluid, staining his cheeks a blackish color. What was worse was that his skin was so taunt and emaciated that it was pulling apart along his eyes and jawline, revealing a horrifying desiccated-looking flesh underneath with bluish lines running through it.
There was no denying it.
Lance Corporal Hong Jeong was turning in to a Husk.
Author's Notes: An ode to that one Red Shirt in Star Trek: First Contact, where I got this idea. I scoured Ye Ole Internet for some ideas to include the 'Take Earth Back' ME3 Trailer, some stuff from DeviantART and Tumblr, and ended up finding a great 'conversion' from PandaHart on Tumblr that was spooky as hell, showing a half-converted human-husk hybrid looking in the mirror. I did mention that to resist was futility at the very top, didn't I? I wasn't trying to be charming.
Poor K-Pop :'( Sorry, But I rolled a dice and it came up with you.
mERC Chat: Actually mIRC Chat, Internet Relay Contact, popular back in the 90's before MySpace (God... did I just reference MySpace?!) and the inception of social media messengers.
I mention in the previous chapter (and this one) about military actions that involve persons not yet to be adults. Child-soldiers are rife in Africa and the Middle East, and I'm sad to say that I've seen plenty. Think that's wrong? It happens in America, too, but with gangs.
Cradle Of Filth is a Real-Life Extreme Metal Band, in which Nymphetamine Fix (not Nymphetamine Girl) is one of their songs. For the purposes of this universe, it is a blend of Batarian Rock (which is quite popular according to canon) and Asari choral singing, which one finds in the song. What Sara sings are some of the actual lyrics from the female co-singer.
Merkava - Hebrew: 'Chariot'. It is also the name of the main battle tank of the Israeli Defense Force's Armored Corps. It is the equal of, if not better than, the American M1 Abrams and the British Challenger-2. For some reason, unofficial Mediterranean forces (ie., fucking Hezbollah) think cute cheap decades-old Russian-made rocket rounds (ie., RPG's) will dent this thing. HAHAHAHA!
The Flying Dutchman - There's a myriad of legends about this ghost ship, everything from the ship of the damned to the eternal castaway.
Judas Goat - One ties a goat to a tree to lure in a wolf. When the wolf gets dinner, you shoot the wolf. Thus why it has the name of the Betrayer; the wolf and goat get betrayed. If you've ever watched the cartoon version of "Peter And The Wolf", the little bird is the Judas Goat.