Exodus of the Damned

by Codename-SURGEON

The Reapers fell and with them fell our worlds. We drift alone in search of home and hope to one day build again. An artifact found provides a ray of hope. And those few who ventures through will seal our doom or not. Other worlds and other chances gives the Damned needed hope.

11. Chapter 11: Keep Going

Chapter 11: ...Keep Going

DMZ Border World Saepon'kal. Date and time unknown.

The tunnel couldn't truly be described as a tunnel. It was more of a pipeline, wide and tall enough for four Turians to walk side by side and a pair of Krogan to stand atop each other. The pipe's walls were constructed of the same purple and orange material easily found in this dimension's alien architecture. A murky brown rivulet of water trickled along the bottom underneath a rusty grate that provided a flat surface.

Garrus hugged the wall where a pair of pipelines formed a four way junction and removed one hand from his weapon. "Junction 28 is clean. Target's not in sight," Garrus reported and removed his free hand from his com gear.

"We hear you. Continue to the search at the next Junction," a low gravelly voice droned in his ear.

"Copy." Garrus peaked around the corner and swept the darkness with his low light visor. Consistent with the rest of his armor, the visor was a patchwork piece crafted from scratch and fitted specifically for him. Every Turian survivor had received a similar set of armor tailored to each individual and as a result they varied slightly in size. The armor itself did its job exceptionally well, equipped with sturdy plasma shields, air tight and able to withstand vacuum, and pieced together from the same material used in the pipeline giving it high heat and energy resistance. The color had, thankfully, been changed from purple to a grey and brown camouflage pattern with glowing blue accents and it was all thanks to the quartermaster servicing the Resistance, a Huragok named Inconsistent Buoyancy.

Garrus had only ever seen this alien once as it was one of the Resistance's highest valued assets liberated from the Brutes. He could only describe it as a Hanar with a more pronounced head. The Huragok's technical prowess was undoubtedly enough to give a Quarian a run for his money, because this Huragok was also the reason the Turians weren't starving to death at the moment. Using the small stash of food the Turians had brought with them, Inconsistency had programmed a replicator machine to produce a nutritious gel the Turians could use for sustenance. The alien even had the foresight to include flavoring in its programming, preventing the new food from becoming a major drain on moral.

Garrus shoved off the side of the pipe and crossed the junction. He remained on high alert for his target as he moved and very briefly he thought back to the events that brought him and his men here. Time was excruciatingly difficult to keep track of down in these tunnels and very few Turians had ventured far onto the planet's surface for good reason, but Garrus felt certain a standard week had passed since they'd arrived on this hell world.

Hell was a kind way of describing the planet. Every time one of the Sangheili aliens said the planet's name, Saepon'kal, the translation matrices in Garrus's helmet translated it into English as Joyous Exaltation. There was nothing joyous or worthy of exaltation on Joyous Exaltation. Garrus had seen from the dropship that brought him here and the few instances he'd been outside that the planet had suffered a nuclear apocalypse that rivaled Techanka. The Krogan homeworld was at least survivable, with a consistently breathable atmosphere and sparse vegetation. A good quarter of this world didn't even have dead trees. Everything organic down to the soil had been burned away leaving a rocky landscape and gigantic ash clouds that blocked out the local star almost always. The rest of the planet was covered in wind blasted dead zones and occasionally pelted by showers of rocky debris from, what Garrus assumed was, the broken moon in orbit.

As demanding as the planet was the real kicker was the radiation. Unprotected, a living organism would rapidly deteriorate and according to the limited information Garrus and his men had acquired the planet was irradiated down to the core. The only reason the Resistance could operate was because the pipelines they used as bases were designed to ferry plasma used by the previous civilization for energy. As such they were heavily insulated against radiation from the inside and outside.

The next junction wasn't a four way, it was a T. Garrus scanned the immediate area with his weapon, a neat marksman rifle he'd heard referred to as a Focus Rifle. Already moving to call in another clear junction, Garrus was interrupted by a cacophony of squealing metal and pained roars. He quickly pinpointed the noise to his left down the branching pipeline.

Gripping his weapon tighter, Garrus started down the new pipe at half jog. After turning the second corner the Turian commander stopped and knelt down. Something had punched through a weakened section of grating then messily pulled itself out leaving a substantial blood trail. Now with evidence of his quarry's presence, Garrus took off at a full jog with his rifle and attention fully forward.

He didn't need to go very far, only around the next bend in fact. Garrus snapped the Focus Rifle to his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. Instead of a dozen individual bolts of energy the Focus Rifle fired a single continuous stream of superheated plasma. The beam knifed into the unarmored back of the limping Brute in Garrus's sights and brutally burned a trench through cloth, fur, and flesh.

The Brute howled in agony and turned on Garrus. Dropping to all fours, the savage alien tossed all sense of tactical thinking and charged the Turian in front of him. Garrus kept his cool and backpedaled, adjusting his aim and firing again simultaneously. The second beam of plasma impacted the Brute's exposed head burning away the skin, revealing the skull, and boiling the Brute's brain killing it in seconds. The massive alien collapsed face first onto the grating, twitched its last, and finally died. For all the Brute's genuine strength and menacing appearance, they paled in comparison to the identically named Turian-Krogan hybrid Reaper soldiers

Garrus dropped his rifle down to his waist, sucked in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. "Control, the target is down," he reported through the communicator in his helmet. "Any word on the other escapees?"

"Fine work Vakarian," the same low voice applauded, "All but one of the escaped vermin are accounted for. The team pursuing his hide has reported progress. He will not remain alive for long." There was a brief pause during which Garrus could hear mumbling in the background. "Return to the Cistern, Vakarian. Jul is becoming restless. Something is on the horizon."

"Acknowledged," Garrus replied then cut the connection. He placed the Focus Rifle on his back where it adhered to the magnetic plates on his armor. Setting himself back at a half jog, Garrus retraced his steps by memory back to the Resistance's main outpost, the Cistern, almost 10 kilometers away.

The pipelines the Resistance used sprawled and crisscrossed across the entire planet in many places creating an intricate maze. The Cistern was a nexus point where energetic plasma had been stored and distributed to the dozens of connecting pipes. Garrus and the other Turian survivors had pieced this bit of information and what little else they knew together mostly by themselves. The Sangheili aliens that made a majority of the Resistance's forces rarely spoke about Joyous Exultation old government before the nuclear armageddon.

Passing the five kilometer mark, Garrus came to a halt and intently examined a doorway built into the pipe's side. He'd learned fairly early on that this specific doorway was an airlock which led to a maintenance access tunnel which eventually led to the surface. And somewhere beyond the surface was a way home for Garrus and those under his command.

He shook those thoughts out of his head and resumed his pace. The leader of the Resistance, Jul 'Alum, had promised Garrus a way off Joyous Exaltation and had yet to deliver. However, he also hadn't done anything wrong by the Turians and Garrus's patience had yet to be tested. At the moment it was just too early for things to move forward.

The remaining distance was crossed without incident. Garrus presented the passphrase to the perimeter guards and slipped into the Cistern more or less unhindered.

The Cistern itself was a massive cavernous space, perfectly cylindrical, and spanning nearly a hundred meters up, down, and in diameter. The walls possessed the same purple-orange coloration that apparently was a staple of the region. Numerous walkways and ramps clung to the walls, providing means of getting around to the many barracks, armories, and repair shops carved into the Cistern's walls and reinforced against radiation.

Garrus made his way to the barracks set aside for the Turians under his command three levels below where he entered. There he acknowledged the salutes from the off duty Turians lounging about and deposited his gear on top his bunk which was only a simple metal and cloth cot.

Only his weapon, gauntlets, helmet, and chest piece were removed, leaving Garrus with armor on his arms and legs along with an airtight padded undersuit. With each piece specifically arranged to be replaced at a moments notice, Garrus gave his armor a thorough examination searching for defects as well as admiring its physical properties.

The armor had been crafted from scratch. Soon after first arriving on Joyous Exaltation, Garrus had been taken to the Resistance's Huragok quartermaster who'd examined and measured Garrus's body and , with the help of a translator, had listened to Garrus explain certain Turian armor tropes. Within a few hours the Turian commander was fitted with the first set of what the rest of the Turian survivors began calling 'Remnant Armor.' By the next day the Huragok and the Resistance armorers had produced enough sets to issue to every Turian.

The armor itself was bulky yet lightweight and allowed for a surprisingly wide range of movement. Garrus had been informed that the sealed undersuit took inspiration from battle dress uniforms used by human naval officers in this dimension. The leg and arm armor was rather plain, simply covering vital areas. It was the chest piece and helmet that stood out the most. Being barrel shaped and with a substantial collar like most Turian armor designs, the chest piece housed the armor's shield generator and sported a pair of circular hardpoints placed to further defend vital organs. The helmet incorporated a full face mask with eyeholes that glowed a faint blue when vision enhancers were used and an elongated sloped design to accommodate the spines on every Turian's scalp.

Satisfied his armor was more or less good as new, Garrus made his way to the bottom of the Cistern where the mess hall was. On the way he passed by the jails which were in a state of semi-organization due to a mass riot. Two Sangheili guards stood by the entrance corridor and watched Garrus pass with barely restrained tension, hands hovering over weapons, and eyes darting back and forth. None of Garrus's men had been stationed there when the Brute prisoners made their escape and the jails descended into a bloody melee resulting in four dead Sangheili and a dozen escapees. Garrus who, along with a few dozen Resistance fighters, had personally hunted down many of the escaped Brutes knew if any of his men had been caught in the middle of the fight for the jail they would surely be dead.

Garrus reached the bottom of the lowest ramp and sharply turned into the sprawl of tables and chairs his boots clicking off the worn stone floor. Towards the center of the mess hall a single table was occupied by a dozen or so Turians most of whom wore their full set of Remnant Armor. Garrus took an empty seat close to the head of the table and joined into the conversations.

"Anything happen on patrol?" he asked.

At the words of a commanding officer every Turian fell silent and their attention shifted over to Garrus. Magnolum was the first to answer. "Nothing of note, commander. All personnel are accounted for and today's standard patrols were mostly uneventful," he said knowingly. The older Turian and previous gunnery officer of the defunct frigate Menae's Might had effectively become Garrus's second in command.

The other three Turians who'd shared a cell with Garrus and Magnolum on the Brute warship that brought them here were present at the table as well. Prelas, Acktium, and Sylis, over the course of their time on Joyous Exaltation, had become Garrus's three top lieutenants. These three along with Magnolum had been instrumental in organizing the remaining 46 survivors into an effective fighting platoon just as much as their commander. However, just like the dozens under their command and Garrus himself, none of them were content with their situation.

"There's a lot of chatter amongst the lower ranked fighters," Sylis announced, "They seem to think something big is about to happen."

"The Sangheili officers might be thinking the same thing," Prelas added, "They're acting rather restless."

"How can you tell?" Acktium questioned. "I still find it very hard to read these people."

"Anyone who checks their own weapon at every random opportunity is planning to use it very soon," Prelas answered.

Every other Turian present at the table either nodded in agreement to Prelas's answer, stared blankly at the table lost in thought, or nervously muttered their own theories to themselves. Garrus observed it all and more. Each Turian present, and likely every Turian alive, was a veteran of the Reaper War and nearly all of them had allowed their culturally significant facial markings to fade away indicating their home colony had been destroyed. This shared experience bred a camaraderie very evident as the survivors pooled information and theories in an attempt to predict what would happen next and how to survive to the next day.

"Could the jail break by involved somehow?" another Turian questioned out loud, "Maybe the Sangheili are planning a retaliation of some sort."

Before anyone else could answer, Magnolum interjected, "Not likely. That event is over and done with and there's no reported evidence of sabotage or any outside interference."

"Still, its got to involve a long range deployment of some kind. What else could it be?" another Turian voiced.

Magnolum looked thoughtful for a second before looking over at Garrus. "Ultimately, this is for the commander to find out," he said.

Garrus froze for a second as all present eyes fell on him. Dutifully keeping his composure, Garrus stood up and stated calmly, "I'll keep you all informed as information becomes available."

He then walked away, leaving the group at the table to their hushed conversations. Garrus felt conflicted about keeping himself distant from those under his command, but invariably considered it justified. He'd seen so much, done so much, and lost so much more over the course of his experiences that haunted him at times. Memories of Earth, Palaven, and Omega briefly surfaced before Garrus violently suppressed them. The War and its aftermath had likely broken him as he no longer considered complex attachments, like those he'd shared with many of the Normandy's crew, to be a sound goal.

Just as Garrus decided returning to the barracks for some sleep was an option he spotted a Sangheili wearing the red colored armor of a major loitering near the ramp leading back up. Regardless of the short amount of time they'd been present, Garrus and the rest of the Turians had been forced to quickly identify and memorize the way Sangheili presented rank and file similarly to how they'd been required to become familiar with the nearby pipelines all in a matter of days. None of them had shied away from the challenge.

"Commander Vak-ari-yan," the major called, struggling with the commander's name like a majority of the Sangheili still did.

Garrus, briefly caught off guard by the call out, simply replied, "Yes?"

"Ta fie-eld maph-ther re-hires your preph-ence," the Sangheili's deep gravelly voice gargled.

Garrus however understood the issue and deduced the Sangheili's meaning. The Turian commander wasn't currently wearing the translator built into his helmet leaving the English language the only viable method of communication, something this particular major wasn't very proficient with. His message, however, was fairly clear; Field Master Jul Alum required Garrus's presence, more than likely, in the officers mess adjacent to the primary mess.

Garrus presented a Sangheili salute, closed first over the heart, to indicate he understood which the major accepted. The Sangheili and Turian went their separate ways with Garrus hastening back to the Turian barracks for his helmet and translator. Returning to the mess hall, Garrus approached an archway carved out of the wall of the mess hall. He passed through it into a crescent shaped cavern that wrapped halfway around the base of the Cistern and was quickly ushered by a guard to a table at the far end.

The table was occupied by five Sangheili. Four were high ranking commanders of the Resistance while the fifth was its leader Jul 'Alum.

One of the commanders spoke a guttural sentence that translated into a question regarding Garrus' presence.

"Please, Fieldmaster Taro," Jul said, "He is here because we need his soldiers in the coming fight." He emphasized his statement with clenched fist hitting the table.

Taro, the Sangheili who'd complained, backed down with a nod and Garrus took a seat.

"What's going on?" Garrus questioned as a sixth Sangheili appeared and distributed bowls of steaming food around the table. When he approached Garrus he asked if the Turian desired anything? Garrus said yes.

"An incursion!" one Sangheili said with gusto. "A final strike to level the filthy swine that dare occupy our territory!"

"Calm yourself, young one," a third, much older commander stated, "Spending vigor before a battle guarantees failure."

The energetic and evidently younger Sangheili glared at the older commander with what Garrus could only assume was indignation. "You assume myself incapable as always? You-"

"Peace Azerban, Katakar," Jul barked out and stood up. "Place your attention to the table, my comrades."

All eyes shifted where requested. In the middle of the table, rocks and lumps of metal were arranged to resemble a crude 3D representation of a compound.

"This target larger than the last?" Taro questioned.

"Yes, and more valuable in more ways than one." Jul answered. The Resistance leader pointed to a rock representing a smaller structure, "Our scouts spotted a supply shipment placed in storage here. On top of what we have, this shipment could last us for decades." Jul's hand moved to the chunk of metal representing the largest structure. "A batch of slaves was recently sequestered here. All the more reason to attack."

"So this is a standard strike?" the younger commander, Azerban, said with indignation, "Nothing truly special."

"This is but one more step to our true goal," Katakar, the older Sangheili, admonished, "It would do you well to understand that."

Jul yet again quieted the two bickering commanders and issued the table a look that was unintelligible to Garrus but spoke wonders to the commanders.

"You wish to say more, leader?" Taro caught on, "Does this move have another facet?"

"I do not wish to speak it here," Jul said, "Though I trust each of you with my honor, I fear the Brutes have their eyes and ears to the walls." His revelation seemingly caught everyone present off guard.

"Spies," Garrus surmised, "How do you-"

"What treacherous heathen would dare betray his brethren?!" Azerban nearly shouted.

"One who dares," Jul answered the unintentionally rhetorical question. "What have you to say, Commander Vakarian?"

"How do you intend to find them?" Garrus asked. The Turian commander did a quick headcount in his head and realized the fifth and final Sangheili commander had remained unidentified and silent for the entire meeting.

"We can not be troubled now," Jul stated, "This assault is vital to our efforts regardless of what it may seem." He scanned all the eyes watching him, "With this in mind we move to strategy. Taro, Azerban, Katakar, your lances will accompany me in a three pronged strike and you will each be accompanied by a portion of Commander Vakarian's forces." Jul focused on the fifth commander, "You'll remain here, Savrin, and protect our rear."

The silent Sangheili issued a salute but otherwise remained quiet.

"Now," Jul brought all eyes back the table, " the compound's north and western walls are the responsibility of Azerban and Katakar's lances respectively. Taro and I will assault the east. We will seize the three walls and push the garrison to the south where we will keep them contained and suppressed by sniper fire until we have what we need."

"How are the walls defended?" Garrus inquired and was initially rewarded with incredulous glares from two of the Sangheili commanders unconvinced he had a right to be present.

Jul only huffed in acknowledgement and answered, "Each wall is patrolled hourly and heavy turrets guard the corners. We will attack during a change of the guard and responsibility for the turrets will be parceled accordingly." The Resistance leader stare at everyone as he addressed their responsibilities, "Katakar will handle the southwestern turret and have joint responsibility for the northeastern turret with Azerban. Likewise, Taro will have sole and joint responsibility over the southeastern and northeastern weapon placements."

Jul stood from his seat and scooped up the bowl of food that had been placed near him. The other commanders did the same as did Garrus though he didn't have anything to hold. "Gather your warriors, pack heavy weapons, and feast heartily. We will not have another chance in the coming hours."

Jul downed whatever was in the bowl in one go, as did the others. The commanders immediately dispersed to carry out their orders briefly followed by Garrus before he was called back. As Garrus changed directions the Sangheili who'd passed out the food bowls reappeared and offered him a dish of the Turian nutrient gel and a utensil. Garrus graciously accepted and noticed this particular Sangheili had a left arm that seemed to have been crushed by something of extreme strength.

The Turian commander presented himself to the Resistance leader as requested. Garrus was regarded for nearly a minute in silence before Jul noted no one was watching and finally spoke.

"You had plenty to say during the exchange yet you spoke little?"

"I didn't feel like the others would've taken me seriously," Garrus replied.

"Ah, the new warrior always gets the cold reception."

"Regardless of the fact I'm not a new warrior." The Turian grumbled.

"Here you are. And that is one of the reasons I must speak with you."

"I don't follow," Garrus said with a look of confusion, "What are the other reasons?"

"First, as usual, I must know if you are content with dividing your soldiers and placing them under another's command?"

Garrus gave the question a decent amount of thought. He'd lead a vigilante group to haunting results and commanded military ground forces only because he was knowledgeable on the Reapers, but not for long and not on missions this complex. That was mostly Shepard's thing back in the day. Now not only was he in charge of soldiers on a major operation, he was being ordered to place them under the command of others and it scared him. His command of a naval frigate had been out of a sense of duty while this was survival. It seemed that regardless of how hard he'd tried to suppress them, his demons from Omega had come back to torment him.

"I can accept it," Garrus maintained his composure through the half lie.

"Good," Jul said, genuinely pleased. The Sangheili's expression morphed into what seemed to pass for neutral. "I called you out specifically because you and your warriors are not affiliated with anyone here and, as the humans say, you have a lot of skin in the game."

Garrus quickly became quizzical the more he listened.

"If your story is to be believed, you Turians are not even from this galaxy. So I hope I can trust you with what I can no longer trust to my long time comrades under the threat of espionage. I already have my suspicions on the jail riot"

Garrus, knowing his next actions would dictate life or death for those under his command, affirmed Jul's statement.

The Resistance leader nodded and explained, "Our attack is vastly more than a supply run. A Brute agent has taken refuge in this compound. An agent I have hunted across this world for years because of the information he carries." Jul's elongated head lowered, apparently deep in thought. "Many of the warriors under me believe this is a permanent post until a glorious death. But only I know true. We are nothing but a thorn in a beast's ankle. Without this information our deaths here would be meaningless, our names would be forgotten, and you will never see home again," Jul emphasized that last point with a gesture towards the sky.

"Well, then we've got little room for error," Garrus quipped. "I'll divide the men and we'll get this done. You can count on us."

"I surely am. And I trust you will keep my purpose a secret"

Garrus saluted, turned, and left Jul to his little end of the hall. Remembering the dish in his hand, Garrus began taking small bites, savoring the taste. He couldn't guarantee he'd ever taste the infamous mystery fruit again.

/

On arrival, the 51 Turian survivors had organized themselves into a makeshift platoon. Garrus was acting as the commanding lieutenant in charge of four squads lead by some of the last remaining Turian officers of rank, Magnolum, Prelas, Acktium, and Sylis. The remaining 46 fighters were divided as equally as possible with Prelas and Acktium leading groups of 11 and Magnolum and Sylis leading groups of 12.

For the assault itself, Garrus decided he would accompany Magnolum's squad on Field Master Taro and Jul 'Alum's strike on the compound's eastern wall. Sylis' squad would be paired with Field Master Katakar for the attack on the west and Acktium would help handle the northern wall with Field Master Azerban. Prelas and his squad would stay behind and hold.

The task forces assembled themselves in separate staging areas and for the most the Turians were accepted as fellows. Except in Azerban's case who seemed to regard them as untested children regardless of what they said to the contrary.

Jul was the last to arrive at his forces' staging area clad in a golden colored but otherwise plain Sangheili combat harness bulked up to protect from radiation.

"You do not wish to stand out, brother?" Taro asked.

"The smoother this mission goes the more honor we will garner," Jul stated thoughtfully.

"If you say so," Taro said with a slight chuckle. "I see not how we might fail with almost three fourths of our forces attending, but I know not to underestimate the Brutes."

Jul replied merely replied with a huff while the conversation sparked a revelation in Garrus. If Jul was committing three fourths of his total forces to this mission, he was going all in, taking a risk, calling a bluff. At the very least, Jul's goals could fail in one of two ways; either they arrived and he found nothing or they were wiped out by force or ambush. Regardless of whether or not Jul's coveted information was present, the Resistance would either be destroyed or, as Jul had seemingly insinuated, awaiting evacuation. This could very well be his endgame.

Garrus' resolved was only steeled further. Success in this twofold mission seemed to be the quickest way to escape this planet. Failure meant death and any survivors would remain trapped on Joyous Exaltation.

The task forces finally plunged into the pipelines leading to their designated checkpoints. All three groups kept in constant communication as their routes lead them further away from one another. At a point where the pedometer built into Garrus's Remnant Armor indicated he'd travel upwards to 40 kilometers in a leisurely 14 hours, Jul halted the group near a service lift connected to the pipeline with a short spur tunnel.

At this point every warrior present fastened their helmets and checked their suit's seals due to the proximity to the surface. Garrus did the same and once again reviewed the composition of his compatriots and his own inventory. Jul's task force was around 100 strong with about 60 Sangheili, 14 Turians, and the rest were composed of Unggoy. They all had sealed armor and a variety of plasma and Brute firearms. Garrus had a fully charged Focus Rifle and the metal spear he'd taken from the Brute dreadnought strapped to his back.

The spear was mainly a memento but due to the Resistance's near complete lack of military grade melee weapons handcrafted shivs, short swords, spears like his own were commonplace and fit right in. Plasma weaponry like the Focus Rifle had been a source of animated conversation amongst the Turians early on, but in the end they only needed to know how to use it and conduct simply repairs.

Garrus stood himself next to Jul as the task force funneled themselves to the lift. "How are we gonna quickly get back through here loaded with supplies, equipment, and possibly under pursuit?" This question had been brewing in his mind for a few kilometers.

"If we are successful," Jul started, "we may not return with much or any at all." The Turian commander's look of puzzlement prompted further explanation. "Scout parties have been establishing cache locations where we may offload some of our seizures. There are many such places between us and our destination and within the pipelines."

The last of the Resistance soldiers and Garrus' Turians disappeared from view, momentarily leaving the two leaders alone with each other.

"You know," Garrus said, "now that I think about it, now is a good time to learn a little more about Joyous Exaltation."

Jul fully locked gazes with Garrus.

"Aside from the name and and a fairly decent idea of what happened, we know nothing about this planet. No one will talk about it and everyone I try to talk to seem to get very sullen over it."

"Why do you ask this now?" Jul asked.

"If we succeed we'll be preoccupied with securing ourselves and watching our back. Failure could lead to any number of things," Garrus explained. "Now seems to be the last chance to hear this planet's story."

Jul shifted his gaze to the wall and stared. An action that appeared to be usual with Sangheili in contemplation. For Garrus, it was unnerving how emotionless the reptilian alien looked. Granted, neither species had had more than a dozen solar rotations to get to know each other.

Finally, Jul's eyes flicked and he turned towards the tunnel leading to the lift. "I will speak of this on the surface. What I have to say is not a story, but history unfit for these...unblemished walls." Jul strode for lift leaving an even further puzzled Garrus to follow under his own volition.

Garrus didn't waste much time getting to the lift himself and melding in with his own people. Soon after, the lift chugged steadily upwards only occasionally voicing its lack of maintenance with grating metallic screeches. Soon after the journey up began, Magnolum choose to appear next to his commander and stand in silence.

"Got something to say?" Garrus said noting Magnolum's presence.

"Indeed, sir," Magnolum stated, "The boys are spooked. Many of them don't believe we'll see home again and fewer think they'll get off this planet. Moral is extremely low."

Garrus brought his hand up to his chin as he processed Magnolum's words. "Any propositions on how to fix this?"

Magnolum's expression morphed into one of disbelief mixed with shock. "Commander, you're responsible for the whole group. Me and the other squad leaders are behind you, but the men need to know their leader is behind them. You want my advice, stop acting so detached and start living up to the stories." Magnolum's tone steadily became imploring as he spoke, " Be the Garrus Vakarian with the quick wit and sharp eyes and when the men see you giving a damn they will too."

Garrus mentally kicked himself. He and every Turian alive knew what the older Turian was talking about. It had been drilled into them throughout the Hierarchy's mandatory military service. The only explanation Garrus could come up with for his lapse in judgment was the stress and chaos of the last four years finally beginning to wear him down. Nevertheless, he had to shoulder the responsibility he'd signed himself on for, keep those under his command unified, and provide a leader they could rally behind. For all intents and purposes, he'd inherited Shepard's job of holding everything together while weathering the raging storm.

Magnolum had yet to say everything he wanted to say. "Commander," he resumed, interrupting Garrus from his train of thought, "when it's all said and done, get us off this planet."

Garrus banished the last of his doubts that this path would not lead to more pain and forced himself to present a cocky grin. "Is that all?" he quipped lightheartedly.

The comment prompted a smile from Magnolum. "Good to have you at the helm Commander Vakarian." He issued a salute and moved to rejoin his squad.

Garrus stared upwards and could see the end of the shaft leading to the surface. This was the Turian survivors' first organized mission in this dimension and Spirits be damned if he was going to improperly showcase their abilities. He turned to follow Magnolum, intent on getting a feel for who he was commanding.

/

The lift slowed to a stop in a spacious rubble strewn cavern. The floors and domed roof were composed of the same purple colored material that dominated the construction of every piece of infrastructure the Turians had encountered on this planet.

Garrus immediately ordered Magnolum's men forward having positioned them so they'd be some of first off the lift. Their professionalism was evident in their movements and in how held their plasma weapons as they secured their section of the perimeter with the other Resistance soldiers.

The all clear was speedily issued by a Sangheili on the opposite side the cavern and was echoed all around, prompting Jul to order his forces onwards through an adjoining doorway. Garrus choose to slow down for a moment to examine his surroundings as the task force filed away.

The cavern was a total ruin. The dome was littered with cracks and holes allowing grey light to seep through. Wall panels hung precariously from frayed wiring above Garrus' head or were missing entirely. The floor was coated in a layer of detritus and ash which now floated through the air the disturbing passage of the Resistance soldiers. Content with this moment of observation, Garrus moved to catch up with the other Turians.

The dark hall the task force had to pass through mirrored the level of disrepair found in the previous cavern. Branching hallways and rooms revealed what appeared to Garrus to be barracks, showers, lockers, and a mess hall. Everything maintenance workers would need to maintain themselves.

At the end of the main hall the task force's point men forced open a doorway of similar design to the doors on the Brute warship. Garrus and Magnolum's squad passed through and into an environment reminiscent of worlds back home like Feros, Ilos, and Tuchanka. A magnificent cityscape reduced to crumbling ruins, monolithic towers interspersed with bulbous buildings and spiral designed structures all damaged and abandoned to the point of revealing their superstructure within.

Garrus had the simplistic computer built into his armor conduct an environmental scan and wasn't very surprised by the results. While Turians were naturally resistant to radiation because of conditions on their homeworld, the background radiation present on Saepon'kal was enough to cause rapid discomfort and maybe even kill a human with a few hours exposure.

"Well, this place has seen better days," he commented on the readings.

"Indeed," the translated voice of Jul 'Alum sounded in Garrus' ear as the Sangheili appeared behind him and ordered his forces to the objective. "This world was a crowning achievement for my people before the fall."

"How did this happen?" Garrus ask in all seriousness, motioning towards the destruction around them. "Who dropped the bombs?"

Jul stretched to his full height towering a good two or three feet over Garrus, but he spoke with a tinge of remorsefulness. "My people were once the grand protectors of an alliance of races whose military glory was unparalleled."

Garrus could relate. The Turians had been military arm of the Citadel Council for a millennia after all.

"Everything changed when we began questioning the decisions of our leaders, the Hierarchs of the San'Shyuum. Eventually, the Hierarchs learned of our doubts and usurped our role within the Covenant for the Brutes. Civil war was inevitable."

"So, your people were fired because they questioned the government?" Garrus surmised.

"This is adequate," Jul said, "To question the absolute rule of the Hierarchs was heresy punishable by death." Jul sighed, "And in their eyes we had all sinned." He looked upwards, "In the beginning the initial leaders of the rebellion meet above this world to discuss a strategy to strike at the Covenant, but we forgot the fleet had just returned from campaign. In our negligence the humans, who the Covenant had been warring with for years, had secreted a weapon aboard our mightiest carrier."

"Humanity bombed this planet?" Garrus asked slightly shocked. "That doesn't sound like the humans I know of from my dimension."

Jul didn't directly acknowledge Garrus' comment instead he finished his story. "The humans detonated a single nuclear weapon in orbit. The explosion erased the fleet, cracked the moon and scorched Saepon'kal. That is this world's history."

Now Garrus was genuinely stunned. Nukes of such power was unheard of back home and undeniably beyond all conceivable extremes. No competent military power would deploy such a weapon unless they were desperate. Only one question remained, "Why did the humans do it?"

"We were at war," Jul stated as his posture sunk slightly. "There is no more time for talk. We must keep up with our force and take the objective which is just beyond these ruins." Jul stomped off leaving Garrus to follow after a momentary pause. This dimension was more convoluted then Garrus could've imagined. It was also obvious Jul wasn't telling the the whole story concerning the humans.

/

The remainder of the journey was an uneventful slog through rubble strewn streets, half collapsed tunnels, and fallen towers. The Sangheili scouts expertly guided them around Brute patrols and when evasion was unsustainable they silently cleared the way with effective use of their bladed weaponry.

Soon enough, the compound that was the task force's' target was in sight and the validity of the scouts' intelligence was confirmed. From Garrus' vantage point on a large mound of wreckage he could see the layout of the real thing was nearly identical to the model he'd seen in the Cistern. The only nagging difference between the model and the real thing was the scale. Where the model had shirked this bit of information, the real thing was a solid square kilometer surrounded by a massive open area of bare and broken up rock providing plenty of cover between here and there. At one point this area may have been a city park or garden but now it was a potential kill ground.

Garrus examined the compound through the scope of his Focus Rifle. He saw the walls were not designed specifically for defense but more for keeping things in or out. Any defenders who took to the walls would be easy pickings and the only real threat was the four heavy turrets on the corners. A break in the northern wall seemed to serve as an entrance but it was without any means to close it. It appeared the Brutes did not share the Sangheili's aptitude for defensible positions.

"I don't see much room for finesse here," Magnolum said as he looked through a pair of alien binoculars, "Other than charge forward like the Krogan and pray for sniper support."

"The Krogan way does have its quirks and usually generates results," Garrus reasoned from experience. "At least the Sangheili are more tactically inclined."

"Indeed," Magnolum agreed, "but the first salvo from those turrets will generate casualties unless they're neutralized first. I'd recommend we hold our squads in the middle or rear of the task forces and let the Sangheili take the initial brunt."

Garrus thought Magnolum's suggestion over for a minute. Holding back would definitely improve their chances of preserving their numbers but would come with consequences. "If we stay back we might lose the little respect we have with the Sangheili. They definitely have a very Krogan outlook on combat." Garrus explained.

"There could be a compromise," Magnolum presented.

Garrus immediately had an idea of what that compromise could be. "You keep the squad back a ways to avoid the first salvo. I'll be at the forefront."

"Sir, are you positive that's how you want to play this?" Magnolum wondered.

"Well, the other option is we all risk our lives before we're in position to do some good." Garrus briefly paused, " Oh, I just realized my death would put you in charge. Maybe we should rethink."

"Ha, ha, ha, commander," Magnolum lightheartedly faked amusement. "Let's get this done. I'll inform the other squads of the plan," the squad leader turned and began clambering down the rubble. "Oh, and commander," Magnolum turned his head back to Garrus, "It's an honor to serve under you."

Garrus only nodded in acknowledgement and returned to observing the compound. If everything went to plan and the Brutes didn't pull anything out of thin air, then this three pronged strike would be a breeze. The main defenses would quickly fall and the compound would be swarmed before any significant resistance could be mustered. At the moment it appeared the Resistance held the element of surprise due to the lack of activity in the compound, but that could also indicate a waiting trap.

Garrus pushed that line of thought far away. If they succeeded and retrieved the information Jul was secretly searching for, escaping this planet would be right around the corner.

/

The signal was given when all three task forces were in position. The snipers covering the southern wall had arranged themselves long since and everything else was in place.

Unlike Garrus' earlier comparison of the Sangheili to the Krogan, there was no battlecry or blood curdling challenge for a prelude. The forces of the Resistance, Sangheili, Unggoy, and Turian all took to the field in silence and rapidly if intelligently charged the Brute compound. Sangheili displayed no squad formations as they ducked and weaved around boulders, pausing for a quick breather in cover before vaulting back into the open. The Unggoy were the most exposed, lugging around enviro-suits with tanks of methane, but they were no less limber among the rocks or rapid in their pace. Only the small groups of Turians appeared to show any cohesion as they maneuvered through the field of jutting rock and boulders. This seemingly unorganized approach wasn't without reason as the Resistance hoped to get as close to the walls as possible without being detected.

Garrus was keeping pace at the front of the group as he'd said. Jul had been more than willing to permit the Turians to hang slightly back if their leader was on the front. He was also one of the first to see the Resistance's cover fall.

The first Brute sentry to spot the on rushing enemy was sniped dead. Garrus saw the shot emitted from the snipers' particle beam rifles, barely heard the 'whoosh' the shot made, and saw the silhouette of a Brute tumble out of one the turrets. Soon enough, three more shots lanced out and the remaining three sentries were down. Everything erupted after that.

Plasma stitched the ground in front of Garrus who dove behind a boulder for cover as both sides began trading fire. Blue, green, and orange colored bolts of superheated gas flew back and forth while near molten spikes of metal gouged out chunks of rock and launched grenades impacted and exploded with bone jarring force. Through it all the Resistance kept moving forward.

Choosing to return fire as opposed to resuming his charge, Garrus snapped up his Focus Rifle and held the trigger. The interesting thing about the Focus Rifle was it fired a continuous stream of plasma as opposed to bursts or bolts. It made this marksman rifle surprisingly easy to aim while firing as the stream acted like a oversized laser pointer and was pretty good at suppressing the enemy. Adversely, holding the trigger too long caused the weapon to overhead like older model mass effect guns and the stream made it easy to trace the shooter. Garrus' target took the full brunt of the shot with the heat, pain, and impact forcing the Brute to fall backwards over the wall. Not waiting to be zeroed, Garrus sprinted to another chunk of jutting rock.

Brutes were now swarming over the top of the compound with large concentrations of them on the corners of compound where the Resistance assault was strongest and all were eager to put fire downrange. While most were seemingly content with plinking at the encroaching enemy, some made a beeline for the heavy turrets which the Resistance couldn't allow.

"Take them down!" Garrus heard Jul yell out somewhere to the right as he leapt from boulder to boulder.

On Garrus' left a pair of Sangheili toting two massive golden colored weapons crouched down and took aim. They both fired one glowing green orb that sailed through the air and tore the southeastern turret apart along with its new gunner. Far to the north Garrus watched the second turret on the east wall explode in a similar manner.

Garrus immediately radioed Magnolum for a report.

"All quiet back here, commander. Taro held us and a lot of others back to avoid bunching up but we're moving forward again. We'll be there."

Garrus cut the line and turned back to the wall. Dozens of Resistance soldiers had made it to the base of the wall only a dozen meters away and begun to climb but the defenders did not let up as evidenced when a grenade exploded and launched a Sangheili head over heels above Garrus. The soldier hit the unflinching rocks and did not move.

Garrus broke from cover and fired another beam at the defenders. Whether he killed any or not remained unanswered as he ran forward, witnessing the deaths of three Unggoy as he went. He hit the base of the wall, mostly composed of massive slabs of rubble, as the Sangheili clearing the top provided cover for the fighters still climbing or running.

Magnolum's squad soon appeared from the distance, ducking in and out of cover and firing plasma rounds where necessary. The blue glow from their Remnant Gear's eye visors gave them a ghostly appearance as they speedily crossed the distance and linked up with Garrus at the wall.

Garrus leaned outwards a ways and fired upwards, definitely hitting a Brute in face who then fell forwards off the wall. He then turned his attention to those under his command.

"How's it going, commander?" Magnolum asked.

"Decent enough," Garrus said before acknowledging the entire squad, "Alright, men. We're on the home stretch. Let the Sangheili take point but be sure to show'em what we're made of."

There was no indication the other Turians caught on to the meaning behind Garrus' home stretch comment but they took the words of encouragement in stride. All of them leapt at the wall grasping at the plentiful handholds provided by the broken surfaces.

The top of the wall was an absolute mess of bodies and gore. Brutes were sprawled all over, burned black or partially dismembered. Resistance soldiers rushed about either to the north to link up the other task forces, down the other side of the wall into the compound, or to help a group of Sangheili already beginning to build a barricade against the southern wall. Off in the distance Garrus watched a turret explode in a green flash and noticed the fourth and final turret had already been destroyed. The wall was thoroughly in Resistance hands and the if cacophony of sound coming from below was any indication, the fighting within the compound was viscous.

The Turians scurried down the other side of the wall and found themselves in a medium width corridor with the wall on one side and a structure on the other. A doorway was discovered on the structure's corner. It was not an automatic or a retractable door but a simple swinging door.

"Breach and clear," Garrus hissed. "We'll reconvene inside."

The Turians arranged themselves along the wall and the building, keeping every angle covered. Near the door, Magnolum and a small fire team stacked up in perfect position as the sounds of nearby combat grew louder.

"Breaching!" Magnolum yelled then stepped in front of the door and gave it a powerful kick. He spun out of the way as the door caved inwards and a flurry of spikes shot out from inside.

"Blast out!" Magnolum and another Turian procured two blue spheres the Sangheili used for grenades, depressed the button, and lobbed them through the door. A loud boom and a bright flash signaled the grenade's' detonation. The Turians poured in after to finish off what was left.

Garrus was the last to enter and was immediately greeted to the sight of two dead Brutes. The interior revealed the building to be a machine shop or maintenance shed. Tools and gear littered multiple tables and were hung up or leaned against the wall. Piles of scrap and bits of rubbish were heaped in every corner and the floor was covered in metal dust.

Garrus motioned Magnolum over to him and gave a brief rundown of what he needed. "The Sangheili must be focusing on taking the paths and main buildings first and leaving these smaller outbuildings for later. Radio the other squads and have them clear out the smaller structures on the perimeter. Then rendezvous at the north side of the central plaza and hook up with the Resistance leadership when the fighting dies down. Same goes for you"

"Yes, commander," Magnolum acknowledged.

Garrus' voice turned slightly frantic in a commanding way, "You two," he pointed to two Turians watching the inner doorway.

Both kept their eyes on the potential danger but were otherwise listening.

"You're with me," Garrus commanded, "We're going to go find Jul 'Alum."

"Yes, sir," the two chorused.

The squad split up from there. Magnolum relayed Garrus' orders then took his group and slipped out the way they'd come in. Garrus lead his little fire team out the other door.

The noise of chaos was very prevalent outside. Alien shrieks and weapons fire filled the air as Garrus led his little group deeper into the compound through the pathways between buildings. They managed to primarily avoid direct confrontation and only really encountered the results of the battle. The Resistance was pushing hard.

At one point Garrus turned a corner and came face to face with a Brute armored up against the radiation just like every other living thing on the planet. Garrus immediately readied his weapon only to be forced to dodge out of the way as the Brute tumbled forward. The two Turians in Garrus' company kept their weapons leveled at the body while Garrus gave it a quick look over.

A smoking hole in the back of the Brute's head told Garrus everything there was to know. The Resistance snipers were still working overwatch which was an extreme relief. Garrus visually traced the shot southward and couldn't commend the shooter enough because the only way that shot could've made it here was through a small slit between two structures. In the end, Garrus didn't say anything and simply ordered his men forward.

Moving down the pathways between buildings, Garrus and his two followers were on high alert. They had long since fallen behind the Resistance front but the air was rife with fighting and they constantly had to step around the results of confrontation in the form of a cluster of bodies from one species or another.

Garrus felt certain he knew where to go based on the briefing he'd attended with the Sangheili field masters. The Sangheili's main focus would be securing the supply dump and pushing the Brute's to the south while the largest building in the center would likely be left to its own devices until the Resistance decided to clear it. Knowing that building was the most logical place for a command center and that Jul was secretly searching for information of some sort, finding him there didn't seem so far fetched.

Garrus' ruminations were jarringly interrupted when one of his men grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him backwards to a stop. The Turian was quick to point out his reasons, being a dead Sangheili covered in plasma burns. The positioning of the body indicated he'd been ambushed from the side around the corner from where the Turians were now.

Stacking up along the wall, Garrus tried to get a quick peek around the corner. The branching pathway continued for a short ways before turning sharply to the left in an L shape. Sure enough, nestled in the corner was a Brute manning a mounted gun who promptly spotted the side of Garrus' head and opened fire. Multiple glowing blue plasma rounds clipped Garrus' shields causing them to spike as he pulled back.

The big gun wielding Brute kept up the suppressive fire for an inordinate amount of time giving Garrus enough time to form a speedy plan and relay it to his teammates. Once the gun finally fell silent Garrus snapped out of cover and fired a stream of plasma. Not unexpectedly, the the stream missed, deflected by an array of small shields on the gun's covering. However, it achieved its purpose by forcing the gunner the duck and giving one of the Turian soldiers time to dart across the junction. The second Turian slinked off on Garrus' order as the Brute gunner regained his stance and resumed firing tentative shots at Garrus.

A stalemate soon developed. Garrus and the soldier on the other side would lean out and snap off some shots before a barrage of plasma forced them back. The two Turians eventually resorted to blind firing to at least hold the Brute's attention. The idiotic ape never seemed to entertain the idea of leaving the gun and moving up or even bringing the gun with him and finishing the Turians off at close range. He remained steadfastly adhered to his mounted turret up until a glowing blue orb attached to his shoulder and forced him off in brilliant blue blast.

The second Turian came around the corner, keeping an eye on the smoking body, and regrouped with Garrus.

"You'd think the Sangheili would take the time to deal with something like this," Garrus stated while eyeing the large weapon which was mostly intact aside from falling off its mount.

"If they keep bypassing pockets of opposition we're going to have a hard time later on," one the Turians said.

"We've known for awhile the Resistance isn't standard military," the second Turian stated, "Just the leadership is."

He had a point. The majority of the Resistance fighters were freed Brute captives and as much as the Sangheili boasted about their warrior culture, even the Krogan had individuals who weren't entirely combat inclined.

"Well, let's not wait around for a holdout to show up and shove a stick up our asses," Garrus joked.

"Another one?" The two Turians both chuckled at the emergence of the long running racial joke and Garrus even couldn't even keep himself from smiling. Magnolum had at least one point: it was good to wisecrack again.

The three resumed their trek through the compound, weaving around dozens of near identical structures colored a sun baked purple. They encountered no real opposition along the way until the came in sight of the central courtyard where a battle raged. The Brutes had attempted to rally here as evidenced by the stacks of crates and barricades hastily arranged in a square shape. These defenses did little to slow the Sangheili who had already overwhelmed them and, forgoing pushing the Brute's to the south, where wiping them out.

Through the chaos of Sangheili slashing, burning, and dodging Brutes who flailed and fired their bladed weaponry at anything while Unggoy danced about popping off shots at every chance, one golden armored figure broke away. Garrus saw Jul 'Alum sprint for the massive warehouse in the center of the compound and vanish through a side door.

Garrus immediately signaled his men to follow and skirted the edges of the fight till they arrived at the same door. The inside of the warehouse was dimly lit and musky. Dirt and grime covered the stone floor while the pathway ahead, bordered on both sides by towering stakes of shipping containers, branched off into two directions a short ways in.

The right path appeared to to lead to a more open area while the left path seemed to disappear around a dark corner. Garrus was about to take the right path when one of his men gripped his shoulder.

"There's something moving down there." The Turian's weapon was tentatively pointed down the left path indicating where he'd heard noises.

Garrus had half a mind to ignore it and move on. Jul had more than likely followed the right path and would need help if any Brutes were holding out in here. However, Garrus thought back to the briefing and remembered that the Brutes supposedly kept captives here. Should he risk abandoning someone for the sake of the mission. What would Shepard have done?

He'd have gone through Hell and high water to save as many people as possible no matter the odds. Feeling all the more steeled, Garrus turned and took the left path.

They only had to turn the first corner to find someone, but it wasn't a captive. It was an Unggoy wearing resistance garb, likely hiding away from battle. Garrus knew even less about this race than the Sangheili and what he did know was brutal.

As Garrus knelt down to try to comfort the little, possibly battle shocked, alien, he noticed the Unggoy was hiding something behind his back. "How well are you doing?" Garrus asked softly. The Unggoy didn't answer. "What are you hiding for?" He was not getting anywhere quickly but he continued, "You can trust me. I'm part of the Resistance." Garrus wasn't quite willing to remove his helmet to prove he wasn't a Brute or something.

"You would not turn me in?" the Unggoy spoke. The Remnant Armor's translation equipment turned his unintelligible language into something understandable for both parties.

"No, I won't," Garrus stated, "Do you have a reason to be back here?"

"Yes, yes!" the Unggoy seemed to perk up all of a sudden. "I was given a mission by Field Master Savrin." He revealed what he'd been hiding to be a crescent shaped object with a thin metal shaft extending from the top. "This holds information he needs."

Alarm bells were suddenly going off in Garrus' head while the other two Turians were looking on a bit confused. "Jul 'Alum is in the area. If we get your information to him, he might give it to Savrin."

"No," the little alien stood firm, "Savrin asked for it from me specifically. I must deliver it."

Garrus could admire the Unggoy's loyalty, but if a fairly desperate theory he was brewing was correct than he needed that object. "Jul 'Alum is your supreme commander. Any information you find should go straight to him," Garrus affirmed.

"No, it goes to Savrin," the Unggoy refused to budge. "You are no help." With that declaration he tried to weave around the Turians and get past them. Garrus wasn't having it and as soon as the little alien came in range he smacked him with his rifle across the path where he impacted a container with an audible thud.

Retrieving the object wasn't much trouble. The Unggoy was out like a light. Garrus slipped the item in a waist pouch and turned back to his men.

"Commander," one spoke up, "was that necessary?"

Garrus definitely hoped it was. "If this object is what I think it is, it's our key out of here."

"Then why did that Unggoy not want to hand it over to Jul?"

Garrus knew he wouldn't be able to keep Jul's suspicions a secret forever. At least it was another Turian asking. "The Resistance appears to have been infiltrated and Field Master Savrin seems to be involved. We'd best find Jul and navigate this carefully."

They went back the way they came and passed the junction. Taking the pathway on the right, they maneuvered their way through a small labyrinth of cargo containers containing who knew what. Eventually they arrived at a large open space in the center of the warehouse.

Jul was there, in the dead center pacing around with an object that looked like an old fashioned ornamental door handle. Bloated looking cargo containers were stacked in tiers all around the area, smaller boxes had been scattered around the floor, and catwalks criss crossed above. The entire area appeared to be an arena of sorts. What the Brutes used it for was anybody's guess.

Jul quickly spotted the newcomers but never once broke his focus on his surroundings. "Commander Vakarian, I see you've arrived," he stated.

"Well, letting our best chance for survival run away didn't seem smart," Garrus said, remaining about half way between Jul and the exit.

"Wise."

"Sir," Garrus became quite serious, "I have something you may want to see."

"Not now, commander," Jul seemed to sniff the air through his enclosed helmet, "He is here."

Garrus of course wanted to ask who 'he' was, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps from above. The question was answered by the sight of a half-dozen Brutes staring down from the catwalks on the Turians and lone Sangheili.

Five of them looked like average soldiers in plain sealed armor. The understatement of day was the sixth stood out. He was a full head taller then his companions and wore a full suit of armor that appeared to have been made from bolting every piece jagged rusty chunks of metal the Brute could collect together. The pieces overlapped each other to create solid looking plate armor but also had the interesting effect of flaring out backwards at about 45 degrees in both directions to give the Brute a feathered appearance on all of his limbs, head, and body. On his abdomen, the metal extended forward until they connected in a ridgeline running up and down his body. A smooth black gasmask obscured the Brute's face with a ridged tube extending from the chin and disappearing beneath the chest armor and a pair of glass lenses for eyes that glowed a vicious green.

The obvious Brute leader only observed his enemies for a short time before springing into action. Two fists outstretched, a short guttural bark, followed by a chest pounding and two of the regular Brute soldiers split off along the catwalks. The remaining three and their leader all leapt down and kicked up a cloud of dust on impact. Standing up, the leader was a full foot taller than Jul who himself was at least two or three feet taller than the average Turian.

"After so long," Jul said, "what prompts you to stand and fight now?"

The Brute's answer was harsh to hear and as if he spoke from the lowest depths of his gut. "I am ordered to end our story. An end once and for all."

Jul looked over his surroundings once more and replied, "I can think of no better place to end it than one of your vile pits."

"Hmm," the Brute grumbled then shifted his gaze around Jul as if nothing the Turians present for the first time. "The creatures one my less competent shipmasters allowed to escape. I'm impressed you have lasted this long."

"Always nice to meet an admirerer," Garrus quipped, trying hard to suppress the feeling of being dwarfed.

"If it is any consolation," the leader growled, "the incompetent's ribs made an excellent serving dish."

Pleasantries in the past, the leader uttered a noise Garrus couldn't remotely identify and the Brute soldiers wiped out their signature bladed SMGs. The leader himself procured a weapon from his belt, a short handled warhammer of sorts with a broad lumpy surfaced head.

The green glass lenses of the Brute's mask stared at his own weapon for a significant moment and almost looked remorseful by the time they turned back to Jul. "An end once and for all."

"So be it, Morgoth," Jul firmly stated.

The two instantly clashed. Jul's cylindrical object erupted into double tinged blue blade and with a slight tensing of his wrist the Brute's hammer was sheathed in green energy. They laid into each other with slashes and blows.

The three regular Brutes paid no mind to their leader's fight and instead put their focus on the three Turians. Garrus and his men sought cover behind the scattered boxes in time to avoid a hail of glowing metal spikes that ricocheted every which way. The Turians waited for a lull in the shooting when the Brutes were more focused on charging to return fire.

Garrus' rifle speedily destroyed one Brute's shield while plasma fire from the other two Turians forced the remaining to Brutes into cover. All focus shifted to the shieldless Brute who was slow to get to cover. He was hit with bolt after bolt of hot plasma blackening armor, burning fabric, and searing the body underneath. Blue flames sprouted along the Brute's arms and chest and he dropped to the ground in an attempt to put the fires out. Removing him from the fight.

The other two Turians kept low and scurried to new cover further away from the SMG wielding Brutes. Before they could make it the entire way an explosion sent them flying forward where they landed with flashing shields. Garrus sighted on the newly revealed menace, one of the two Brutes who'd split off from the main group armed with a heavy weapon with a massive curved blade affixed to its underside. Seeing what was to come, Garrus leapt over his cover and crouched as another explosive detonated where he'd been. He again leapt back over the box before he was impaled by flying spikes and opened fire on the grenade launcher wielding Brute above

The stream struck its target who ducked into cover before his shields could overload giving Garrus time to move to better cover. The Turian fighters had already recovered their feet and were laying down a healthy field of fire on all presented targets. Garrus regrouped with them and took stock of their position. From the spot the fight had begun the Turians had moved back and to the right of the entrance almost to the wall.

The grenade launcher up high was the most dangerous threat. It would keep the Turians pinned while regulars below swarmed them. Eliminating it was a priority.

Garrus grasped the shoulder of the taller of the two fighters who'd earlier destroyed the turret nest with a grenade. "Do you throw a good grenade, soldier?" Garrus asked.

The fighter proudly nodded, "Fourth in class, sir."

That was all Garrus needed to know as he pointed at the area the launcher wielder was. "Put a bomb in his lap on my mark!" He turned to the second fighter, "Cover us!" was his only order.

At that moment the Brute with the launcher fired another trio of shots each closer than the last and without a doubt gave away his position. Garrus gave the order and took aim. The Turian soldier tested the weight of the grenade briefly as well as the distance. He then threw the explosive with all the skill and grace of a true Turian Hierarchy soldier.

The grenade landed exactly where Garrus wanted and as he'd hoped a now panicked Brute burst from cover right into his crosshairs. He fired an extended stream just in front of the running ape who reeled backwards in response to his shields flaring. The Brute's distraction lasted long enough for the grenade to explode and launch him and his weapon off the catwalk.

"Scratch one," Garrus said to himself.

The body flew far enough to land near the duel between Jul and the Brute leader who promptly stumbled over the corpse. Jul took advantage with a lunge that was successfully deflected by a swipe of the leader's hammer. Then the two were immediately back at it.

The two remaining Brute regulars had gotten uncomfortably close while Garrus was dealing with their heavy weapon support. Seeing this, Garrus ordered a hasty fall back. The closest cover was a half-dozen crates stacked against the wall in a pincer shape. Garrus immediately detested the location because the only way out was through enemy fire and the only other option was to retreat all the way back to the entryway fully exposed.

The Turians nestled in and wasted no time in pinning down their pursuers. The Brutes were smart however, sticking to cover like adhesive and their shields prevented anything shy of a concentrated barrage of plasma from getting through. Thankfully, there was a method just about every military doctrine ever conceived agreed was best for dislodging an enemy from an entrenched position.

"Grenades, on my mark," Garrus called, readying an orb of his own and passing his second to the fourth best thrower in class who'd used up his supply.

Three primed grenades rained among the two Brutes who predictably bolted. One wasn't fast enough and was consumed by the inferno. The second found cover and turned the Turian's tactic against them, tossing a grenade of his own.

Garrus locked onto the explosive at the peak of its trajectory. A long tubular object with a wider heavier end adorned with jagged spikes and and thinner handle end that emitted a plume of smoke. The grenade landed and affixed itself to the floor right in the middle of the Turian's position, jutting straight up as if mocking them. All three Turians attempted to run for it only for Garrus' shields and those of his taller companion to overload in a barrage of hot metal. They ducked back down.

The Brute didn't stop shooting and the grenade would detonate long before he ran out of ammunition. Staying was to die, running was to die, the Turians had seconds to choose. One of them did.

The fighter who Garrus had ordered to provide covering fire, without comment, curled up around the explosive a fraction of a second before it detonated. The shockwave put Garrus and his one other companion flat on the floor and little else.

Garrus' mind glazed over and a dull ringing drowned every other noise even as he felt himself coughing. He struggled up onto an elbow, reached out with his free hand to the downed soldier, and pulled him onto his back. The grenade's payload of still glowing hot shrapnel had pierced shields and armor both natural and artificial. The Turian's eyes were blank. The shock killed him instantly.

Garrus snapped out of his haze at the sound of his shields recharging and saw his remaining squadmate had similarly recovered. From the grenade's impact to the loss of an ally couldn't have been more than two seconds. Garrus' calm abolished and gave way to a rage he was very familiar with.

Retrieving his rifle, Garrus hopped out of cover and advanced. The last Brute, believing his grenade had finished the job, had leaned himself against a crate and was busy reloading his weapon. Garrus targeted the SMG first. Hot plasma along with the gun's volatile nature caused the weapon to superheated fast and roast the Brute's paw. Dropping the slagged gun, the Brute cradled his burnt appendage as a second beam drilled his chest and flipped him over the crate.

Garrus kept moving and leapt atop the same crate overlooking the downed Brute. He held the trigger down until the Focus Rifle overheated and refused to fire further. By now the dead Brute sported a burnt hole in his chest similar to the one Garrus' comrade had suffered. Garrus found the similarly oddly fitting.

His focus shifted to the duel occurring at the far end of the warehouse. The fight was a stalemate between two titans, one of agility and grace the other of strength and muscle. Garrus' vision nearly tunneled onto the Brute leader but a distortion in his peripheral vision caught his gaze.

The second Brute regular who split from the group was loitering up on the leftmost catwalk watching the fight. He must have been waiting for a chance to rain fire on Jul and was oblivious to his comrades' demise.

Garrus knew the Brute had to go. Rooting around the battlefield, Garrus eventually found the first grenade launcher. It was unbelievably heavy and the affixed blade made gripping and fiddling with it dangerous. Eventually through, Garrus lugged it to a position, located the firing mechanism, and took aim.

The launcher belched out four grenades before it was empty. Three detonated around the Brute and whittled away his shields and armor. The fourth impacted dead on and blew the Brute to pieces.

Garrus moved up to the supposed boundary of the fight just as Jul made a mistake. The Resistance leader put too much power in a sideways slash and when the massive Brute dodged it he couldn't overcome his own momentum in time before his sword arm was encased in a vice-like grip. The Brute leader released his hammer and used both hands to lift Jul over his head and toss the Sangheili a dozen meters away.

Before the leader could retrieve his hammer Garrus capitalized on the moment of distraction the douse the leader in plasma. Unfortunately, after only a few seconds the beam sputtered and died. A blinking red light blatantly informed Garrus the Focus Rifle's battery was depleted.

Looking back up from the now useless weapon, Garrus saw an expressionless gasmask and green lenses staring back at him. Without warning the Brute displayed a burst of speed surprising for a creature of his size and before Garrus could coherently react the Brute was on top of him. A swift backhand soon followed and sent Garrus tumbling into a nearby crate.

The Turian commander hissed as he felt one his natural plates crack. Opening his eyes, Garrus saw the Brute leader was already standing over him, foot poised to crush.

"Commander!"

The scream rang in Garrus' ear as he watched his lone comrade launch himself at the Brute seemingly out of nowhere. The Turian soldier smashed his weapon against the Brute's face only for the plasma rifle to shatter on his shields. The Brute wasn't remotely fazed and snatched the Turian up by the neck.

Turning his back to Garrus, the Brute leader raised the Turian soldier high above his head and just observed his prey. To the Turian's credit he kicked and clawed wherever he could reach but to no avail. Eventually the pressure was too much and the Turian could do little else but try to pry the Brute's fingers apart

After what seemed to be an agonizing eternity the Brute broke his silence. "An admirable effort," he mocked in his guttural tone.

The Turian shifted his face so he was staring over the Brute's shoulder and at Garrus. His mouth and mandibles contorted in agony as he spoke his last words to his legendary commander. "For...hierarchy and...the...legend."

The soldier's arm dropped to his waist and revealed one more blue grenade likely taken from the fighter who took the Brute grenade. Calmly, he thumbed the activation button and held the glowing explosive in front of the Brute leader's face. Without further hesitation the Brute snapped the Turian's neck with a flinch of his paw and dropped the body. The grenade detonated before the Turian hit the ground and the last Garrus saw of him before being blinded was a smile as if he was content he had done his duty in his last moment. Heat and light washed over Garrus but he was protected from the worst of the detonation by the Brute's bulk who in turn was defended by his shields at the cost of their integrity.

Garrus forcibly cracked open his eyes and peered through the colorful haze clouding his vision. The Brute leader was still standing albeit dazed and confused. He rocked slightly from side to side as if still recovering from the effects of an explosive going off in his face.

This was an opportunity Garrus could not let slip. The Brute's back was not as armored as his front meaning Garrus was in the perfect position to strike. He only had one weapon left, the metal spear that had become an invaluable part of his arsenal in recent days.

Garrus struggled to his knees and pulled the sharpened rod off of its magnetic attachment to his back. Now he needed a place to attack. A quick examination of the recovering Brute seemed to indicate a similar anatomy to that of humans. Grasping that thought, Garrus remembered a specific physical weak spot that was instantly debilitating when exploited in humans. Forcing one foot underneath himself, Garrus lunged forward and plunged the spear where the Brute's ankle met calf, an area referred to in human mythology as Achilles' Heel.

The spear pierced the thin unshielded armor and skin easily enough then briefly meet resistance which it cut through quickly. A roar of pain echoed back and forth across the warehouse and the Brute's response was a mule style kick to Garrus' chest with his uninjured leg. Fortunately for Garrus the kick was severely weakened by the Brute putting all his weight on his torn heel and only put Garrus on his back while the Brute leader fell face first to the floor.

Garrus again forced himself up onto his elbows in time to see Jul reappear. The Resistance leader sported a slight limp as he approached and kneeled in front of the incapacitated Brute. Vainly lifting himself up by his paws, the Brute leader attempted to grasp Jul by the throat only for his arm to be swatted away. Jul then draped an arm over the Brute's shoulder as if welcoming or saying farewell to a friend.

"An end once and for all," Jul calmly stated.

Twin blades of energy erupted from the Brute's back melting away armor and flesh. The Brute explosively exhaled as the air in his body was burned away along with his vital organs. He tried one last time to grab Jul by the neck but eventually fell limp.

Jul allowed the sword to dissipate and clatter to the floor. He caught the body as it fell forward and gently laid it on its back. Finishing that, the Sangheili crawled over to the Garrus and laid himself down next to the Turian. In that moment it didn't matter that the two of them had barely known each other for a few weeks. Sitting in the middle of a field of dead, they might as well have been lifelong comrades.

"I saw your soldier's sacrifice," Jul said, "Forgive me for my inability to intervene. He will be remembered."

"Both of them," Garrus solemnly replied.

"Hmm," Jul affirmed, "May I ask their names?"

Garrus didn't know.

The realization floored him. Not once, not once in the entire time they'd been under his command had he paused to ask their names! Never throughout the battle's multiple lulls and quiet moments did the thought occur.

Garrus felt his stomach tighten and his heartbeat quicken. They knew his name and gave their lives so the great Garrus Vakarian, closest ally of Commander Shepard, could live and continue the fight. But he knew nothing of them and couldn't even say for certain what frigate they'd served on. He immediately felt unworthy of their sacrifice and of the legacy Shepard had seemingly left him.

"I don't know," Garrus honestly answered.

Jul's face didn't change but his body posture spoke of all seriousness. "They will be honored all the same." He lifted one of his arms into the air where Garrus noticed it was bent in an unnatural angle. "My days dueling are over," Jul said with little emotion.

Wanting to at least shift the subject, Garrus gestured towards the Brute leader's body. "Before the fight started you called him something that translated odd," he tapped the side of his helmet," What did you call him?"

"A phrase from an ancient Sangheili scripture meaning 'dark enemy'," Jul answered. "I do not wish to remember his real name."

"It must have translated to a human equivalent I've never heard before," Garrus concluded.

Jul grunted his agreement and asked a question of his own. "You said you had something for me before. What was it."

Garrus had completely forgotten about the object he'd taken before now. He took it out of the pouch it had been stuffed in to find it thankfully intact and handed it to Jul.

The Resistance leader took the object by the crescent shaped end and squeezed it. The cylindrical protrusion split down the middle and spread out along the curved surface. A purple holographic screen appeared and after Jul fiddled with it for a moment until dozens of symbols began scrolling across the screen at a rapid pace.

Jul's entire demeanor changed. He sat up and look at Garrus with an expression of shock and awe. "This is the information I've spent years hunting for. How did you get this?"

"We found it on an Unggoy in Resistance uniform," Garrus explained.

Jul's joy dissipated at the knowledge that one of his own had the information first. "What was he doing with it?"

"He said he was going to deliver it to Field Master Savrin."

Jul's eyes became slits as the implications sank in. "So the treachery is further rooted then I thought," he growled. Jul sprang to his feet, snatched up his sword, and immediately made for the exit.

"Wait!" Garrus called after him. The Sangheili paused mid stride and turned back to the Turian.

Garrus struggled to stand with the cracked plate in his back giving him hell. "At the briefing you said captives were being held here," he hoarsely stated.

Jul contemplated Garrus reminder for little while. Possibly debating if the diversion was worth it. Soon enough, he pointed to the farthest end of the warehouse, "Any prisoners would be back there. Let us go."

The battered Sangheili and Turian hobbled across the warehouse arena to the wall opposite the entrance. There was a break in the wall identical to the way in. Before entering, Jul keyed his communicator prompting Garrus to patch himself in.

"Taro, come in. Taro, report," Jul ordered.

"Reading you loud and clear, leader," Field Master Taro's voice replied.

"I have completed my goal. The Brute commander is slain. Searching for prisoners now."

"Excellent, leader. The compound is secure and Brutes have been driven away. We are collecting their supply stockpile now."

"Good. Send the group in charge of our spare radiation equipment to my location. We'll bring whoever we can back with us."

"Understood."

Jul cut the channel and beckoned for Garrus to follow him. The pair cautiously advanced through the break until they came to a T junction. Just like the other side, the walls were constructed out of stacked cargo containers reaching up to the ceiling. The glaring difference about these containers was the bottom two layers had been outfitted with doorways and windows.

Garrus and Jul split up and went down each hallway. Peering through every window, Garrus saw all sorts of species crammed into the tight spaces. Unggoy, Sangheili, and even a few Brute's were all locked away. Along with the familiar species were races Garrus only knew of by description. He knew the bird like creatures were Kig-Yar, the insects were Yanme'e, and the writhing mass of worms were Lekgolo.

At the far end of the hallway in the corner of the warehouse was a unique container that appeared to have been cut in half. It still had a window affixed to it and when Garrus looked inside he perked up. A single human was huddled up in the far corner staring back at the Turian as if daring him to get closer.

Excited to have found a being he could easily communicate with, Garrus called out to Jul and switched off his translator. Examining the container, Garrus found a button over what looked like a speaker more than likely used to communicate with whatever was inside.

Garrus depressed the button and spoke in English, "Hold on and we'll get you out. Everything will be better than before." The human didn't appear to react until Jul stepped into view at which time the human's eyes became as wide as dinner plates and he attempted to cram himself further into the corner.

Jul stayed silent as he observed the human before him. The amount of unease in the air quickly put Garrus on edge.

"Spirits of my Ancestors, why do you torment me so," Jul sadly chanted. With no warning Jul kicked in the container window. The human then panicked and leapt up as if to defend himself. He had no chance as Jul leveled one C shaped pistols prevalent in the Resistance. Three green plasma bolts followed and the human was dead.

Garrus relapsed into his C-SEC training and lunged forward, pinning Jul's weapon to the wall as firmly as his pained body could. "What the Hell was that!?" he yelled in the Sangheili's face.

Garrus' translator wasn't active and he'd shouted his exclamation in his native Turian so his words were unintelligible to Jul, but the meaning was clear. "I am an agent of my government, the Commonwealth. They have ordered no human is remain a live prisoner of the Brutes," Jul tried to explain in English.

"I got the feeling your government was no longer at war with humanity," Garrus seethed, "What did I miss?"

"Our governments are not at war," Jul stated, "The order originated from the human government."

Garrus was stunned and let go of Jul, "What?"

"The human Assembly issued the kill order on human captives held by the Brutes and the Commonwealth agreed," Jul said, "I cannot say why."

Garrus silently stumbled away unwilling to process the information further. The fighting, the casualties, the revelations, he'd had more than enough.

Once Garrus was out of sight, Jul retrieved a silver cylinder from his belt. Thumbing a switch, Jul threw the object into the open container. The signal it would broadcast would only need a few hours to fully transmit and would certainly be intercepted by the Brutes. However, the Resistance would be long gone by then.

Walking back out to the arena, Garrus paused to collect the remains of one of the unnamed Turian soldiers. Jul soon followed and was more than willing to carry the second body. Both of them walked out of the warehouse the way they'd come in. Making way for a group of Sangheili carrying spare radiation gear for the captives.

No one left behind.

A/N: I don't have a lot worth saying. I drew on Metro logic for people running around in a recently created nuclear wasteland. Very excited for Halo Wars 2 and happy to see they're not over marketing it this time. Other than that, I hope it's a satisfactory chapter.

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Edited: 1/5/19