HOLOCAUST

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO:

I AM HIS INSTRUMENT PART ONE

August 5, 2186

1652 hours.

43rd Sebember Street, Rubicon Quadrant, Pefashi District, Omega.

Second War for Omega.

Major Randall Ezno, Agent Kai Leng.

It appeared Nyreen Kandros wasn't just audacious, she was adaptable. And bloody relentless.

It was at this point, for Randall, that running and gunning became his preferred, and necessary, method of movement. Bouts of jogging were interrupted by equal bouts of dropping to one knee, raising one's rifle to their shoulder and attempting to kill whatever fell into his sights that wasn't wearing white and gold SPARTAN armor of some description. It became so repetitious to the point where he almost fell into the rhythm robotically, like he didn't need to think about it, he just did it.

So here he was, teeth gritted, knee pressed against the dull, non-descript, gritty metal deck, Harrier pressed against his shoulder, both hands gripping his weapon with quick attention, eyes bared downrange as he found his intended target. A Talon sniper, one that had, quite frankly, been the bane of his existence since his company repelled the initial Talon ambush.

You are smart, Nyreen Kandros. Harass and compress, instead of outright attack. Perhaps we've underestimated these rebels for far too long...or at least Colonel Farland has been, anyway.

He pressed the trigger, tapping it four times to let out four, deadly bursts of cacophonus lead, almost feeling the rounds smash into the rebel on the rooftops. To his displeasure, the Talon rolled to their left, avoiding the last two bursts, but with his shield drained and now practically naked to the world. Doing the smart thing, the rebel fell onto their front, keeping out of sight until their shields recharged.

Randall spun, taking aim at another Talon, this one with an M-37 Falcon. The Falcon was, by all rights, a semi-automatic grenade launcher mixed with a rocket launcher. It fired rocket-propelled grenades at its target with the lethality and swiftness of an assault rifle, but with all the stopping power of a shotgun. The Talon took aim with it, firing four into the shield of a guardian, the blasts enough to stagger the soldier, allowing one of his fellow Talons to snipe the guardian through the slot in his shield, head blowing apart like a watermelon, causing him to fall back, dead.

Randall, frowning, turned and looked up, taking aim with his harrier at the Falcon wielding hostile. He was a batarian, so Randall figured it would take a few rounds to put him down for good: batarians were nothing if not brutally resilient. Six bursts left his harrier before he had to reload, Randall watching in triumph as the first landed a swift blow, blowing through his shields and piercing one of his left eyes, before the other five tore into his armoured chest. He collapsed, but not before his turian friend dropped his sniper rifle, rolling over to grab his fallen comrade's assault rifle, making sure to remain out of sight.

He sighed, tapping his comm, "I want anyone with a rocket launcher to focus your fire on the rooftops: keep them suppressed while the rest of us move forward. Leng, take your phantoms and hug the sides of the street: stay out of sight, out of mind. Dragoons, biotic barriers, right now. I want all nemesi to the back of the formation and protected by the guardians: we don't have many left: that goes for engineers too. Keep moving and don't stop! Take out whatever Talons you can, but never stop moving! We have to reach E Company!"

It's been too long. Their line may have collapsed already. If so, B Company has to be there to establish a new one: buy Petrovsky time for his battalions to reinforce our position. Then we can crush Shepard and his troops in a quick pincer movement.

But first...these Talons had to go...

From the quick scan he gave the rooftops with his eyes, he couldn't find Kandros herself anywhere: it was possible she was blending in or was simply commanding from the sidelines: either way, he was disappointed she hadn't decided to engage him in combat again. If he was to be honest, she had given him more of a fight than Shepard ever did.

She was all reflexes and tactics. Deconstruction of a target using swift counterattacks. Reinforcing her small frame with biotics. Supplementing her weaknesses and faults with strengths and advantages. Quick with a weapon, strong with her fists. A pity we cannot fight again. It would bring me pleasure to defeat her. It would certainly be quite the feat.

He suddenly felt himself thrown against the ground, a ferociously sudden cold slapping him in the face, penetrating his helmet to chill his skin and cause goosebumps to prickle on his cheeks. Grunting, he quickly rolled over, spinning and coming to stand, rifle raised. It appears Nyreen has made her-

He was surprised to only see an asari waving her hands at him, and he quickly fired two rounds into her, watching them ping harmlessly off her protective barrier. Randall, knowing he was helpless against biotics, quickly tore an incendiary grenade from his belt and tossed it behind her. The asari saw the grenade coming, grabbing it with her biotics and encasing it in a biotic field, watching it detonate harmlessly, and seemingly anti-climatically, within the small bubble she had formed. Turning back to him angrily, Randall was only able to fire two more shots before she picked him up off the ground, growling loudly in anger.

The cold enveloped him, body feeling both pleasantly cooled and freezing at the same time. He struggled against the biotic envelopment, but knew that if the asari wanted to, she could probably rip him in half within a second.

The asari laughed, eyes glistening with amusement and her grin empowering her smugness, "These supersoldiers are nothing! You and your Cerberus overlords do not belong here! Omega is our home, and we will fight to keep it that way! You...Cerberus asshole! I'm going to enjoy ripping you-"

An unmistakable sword suddenly pierced the asari's chest, impaling her from the back. Randall was instantly dropped to the ground as her biotics evaporated from her form, glowing blue eyes dying down to their usual, natural color. Randall grunted as he landed, armor pressed uncomfortably against his skin from the impact. Noticing his harrier nearby, he quickly grabbed it, standing up as he turned back to aim at the asari...

...only to find her on the ground, back to the floor, with Leng stabbing her multiple times in the belly with one of his smaller knives, sword sheathed as he gleefully tore into her, purple blood spurting everywhere from every shank. The asari was long dead at this point, blood dripping from her lifeless lips, eyes looking soullessly into the air. Randall couldn't help but sneer at Leng's complete contempt for the soldier.

Just demonstrates what kind of creature he is. Hatred is his love, murder his constant companion. His idiocy only makes it worse.

"Enough Leng," he snapped, Leng finally turning towards Randall, his knife poised in mid air in preparation for a continuation of his ad nauseum shanks, blood oozing off the sharpened blade. There was a slight smirk on the corners of his mouth. Seemingly waking up from whatever phase he was in, he turned back to the corpse before him before delivering one final shank to the chest, pushing himself up as he sheathed the blade, wiping the purple blood that had collected at the bottom of his coat. Sure that he had successfully finished her off, he grabbed his sword, turning to Randall expectantly.

"What?" Randall asked, wondering what the assassin wanted. We are in the middle of a battle. Whatever it is can wait.

"A thanks is in order," Leng gloated, running a hand through his hair as he waved dismissively at the Talon's corpse, "I just saved you."

Randall just rolled his eyes, turning to look back at their Talon foes on the rooftops, weapon raised, "Just do your job, Leng. I'm not going to thank you for doing what you're supposed to do. I'm sure there is plenty of dead asari you can use to make fleshy medals for yourself."

"So touchy," Leng quipped, shaking his head, "It's almost as if I struck a chord."

"You're a dog, Leng," Randall spat, peppering a retreating Talon with high velocity rounds. One finally struck him in the back, the human falling out of sight as the bullet struck him directly in the rear of the head. He quickly reloaded, returning to his suppressive fire, "A rabid dog. Now, go dog. Bite some people and bark some more. We've got killing to do."

Leng just gave him his signature sneer before vanishing into cloak again, a simple fizzle wracking his form to pave the way for his disappearance. Gunfire tore into the ground where the assassin had been mere moments before, and Randall quickly snapped to the source, raising his rifle and feeling his weapon buckle into his shoulder several times, attempting to kill the Talon responsible. Despite rupturing his shields, the turian managed to dodge the last shot, the round slicing across the side of his face, leaving quite the scar. The Talon cried out before he was quickly dragged by his fellow turian comrade out of view. A salarian filled the spot he was in, returning fire with his M-8 avenger. Randall, his shields flaring, quickly realized the futility of his current position, and rolled out of view of the Talon, hugging closely to the wall.

Several Cerberus troopers arrived at his side, one crouching while the other two flanked each of Randall's sides.

"Sir, what do we do? We're down to thirty men, and these Talons don't look to be letting up. We're getting slaughtered, Major," the trooper to his left declared, before running out, turning around and firing his mattock up at an enemy on the rooftop. He grunted as the Talon returned fire, his shields flashing rapidly as multiple rounds made impact. The trooper rushed back to the wall, growling in anger as he reloaded his weapon.

Randall looked back out across the street to see the trooper was indeed correct. Everytime the Talons pulled off one of their ambushes, they managed to kill more and more of Randall's company. When he had repelled Kandros' initial attack, he had lost thirty of his eighty strong company, most of them assault troopers, but a few guardians, nemesi and combat engineers were lost as well. With fifty men left, they tried to advance to E Company's defensive AO, but with the Talons launching repeated offensives on their flank, attacking with 'bug bites', the more men he lost. The situation was dire, and Randall was beginning to wonder if there would be anything left of B Company by the time they finally reached their destination.

Thirty left of a eighty man company. Definitely a problem. Should have brought that Atlas, or at least some kind of armoured support. The enemy have superior position and we can't afford the costly assault of removing these pests. Only option we have is to push forward or withdraw, and the latter is not acceptable.

He nodded, turning to the trooper. He hit the comm, motioning for a group of retreating soldiers (a dragoon and two assault troopers) to form up on him before speaking, "B Company, fall back to the walls. Guardians, raise shields and block oncoming fire. Leng, take your phantoms and get onto the rooftops. I want these Talons dealt with so we can advance."

"On it," was Leng's brief reply.

"How do you propose to get up there, sir?" the trooper on his left asked again.

Randall turned to him, quickly turning around until he was facing the wall, walking slightly back before looking up, "We'll use our thruster packs. All units, follow my lead. We're going up."

Finish these rebels off right here and now. I'm not losing any more of my men.

Keying his omni-tool, he brought his thruster pack online: each trooper had a different type. Some had rocket boots, some had the pack on their back, which was the preferred method, as it wasn't as unreliable and controlled far better. The thruster pack was exactly what one came to expect from a jet pack: it delivered a brief burst of energy that thrust the user into the air, allowing them to mantle mostly unsurmountable obstacles. And no matter what type was used, every Cerberus soldier had one, including Randall.

He looked up at the rooftops above: the buildings were lined up in a sort of Paleo-British format: they were all 'squashed' together, with each house connected to the ones next to it, both conserving space and compressing it. The structures themselves were at least two to three stories high, which would be enough for one thrust of his thruster to reach. Doing so would also be faster than breaking into the houses and using their stairs to reach the top.

Noticing the rest of his men following his example, Randall made the first jump. Leaping into the air, feet leaving the plain deck plating, he felt his thruster pack kick in as soon as he was 'airborne': his body jolted suddenly as a rapid burst of momentum shot him further into the air due to the brief gust of propulsion that had erupted from the booster on his back. He shot upwards, rapidly ascending the stories until he just passed the rooftops, managing to do so in less than two seconds. Close to the edge, Randall quickly found himself breaking into a roll, feet making impact on the rooftop before erupting into a crouch, rifle raised and firing directly into the nearest target.

He was surrounded by five or so Talons...four, once his harrier tore into the chest of the batarian standing infront of him, armor shredded by the armor-piercing rounds. Randall turned to address a human Talon standing next to the dying batarian, who was quickly raising what looked to be a Tempest SMG at Randall, the indicator on the edge of the weapon indicating he had disruptor rounds equipped.

The human never got to fire his weapon: his shields flashed four times before bursting, a fifth round penetrating his face through his nose, blood exploding out the back of his head from the brutality of the impact. Collapsing, the other three Talons were quickly mowed down as the five assault troopers accompanying Randall arrived on the rooftop after using their rocket boots, all of them landing with a series of thuds. The Talons on the next building saw them and opened fire, their combination of surprise and anger allowing them to hold out despite the sudden turn of events.

One of the trooper's shields burst, a round clipping his right shin, the trooper crying out and leaning on it in pain, before raising his mattock and retaliating. Before his shields could recharge however, a batarian with a modded M-23 Katana shotgun charged at him, peppering them with a rapid dispersal of kinetically-propelled shells. One of these shells slammed into the chest of the unshielded trooper, causing him to fall back from the sheer impact, blood spurting from the wound. Another round blew his face apart, killing him. A third and fourth made short work of a second trooper, before the last three finally managed to put the batarian down with a hail of bullets.

Rushing over to the corpse of the batarian soldier Randall had killed, he rolled it over, propped his rifle ontop of him and fell prone, using the dead Talon's body as an improvized sandbag. Rounds peppered the area around him, some slamming into the Talon's dead body, causing it to shift from each impact, while others pinged off the ground. Randall, bringing the scope of his rifle to his eye, quickly found a target and fired, drilling a hole through the eye of a Talon engineer, the salarian spinning from the impact, green blood spiralling through the air and drenching the face of the human standing beside him, before his corpse slammed roughly into the deck.

The rest of B Company was quick to join the ever shifting engagement. The combat engineer that had been with Randall arrived on the rooftop, immediately opening fire on the Talon combatants with his M-5 phalanx heavy pistol, retreating until taking cover behind a ventilation duct, holstering their pistol and using their omni-tool to run numerous tech attacks on the enemy: weapons were remotely overheated, shields were drained, HUDs were sabotaged, motion tracking scrambled, communications jammed...the Talon ambush quickly degenerated into a fight for survival from those that had been fighting to survive from them.

How the tables turn so quickly.

A dozen troopers, followed by two more engineers, a few guardians and a dragoon soon appeared, the latter using his biotics to push back the Talons while the guardians established a defensive line and steadily moved forward. The only biotic left on the Talon side, unsurprisingly an asari, quickly charged the dragoon, biotically tackling him to the ground before quickly delivering a series of biotically enhanced strikes to the face. By the time the nearest guardian reacted, the dragoon was dead, but revenge was saught as the guardian used his shield to pummel the asari in the back before she could bring her biotics to respond, the heavy metal crushing her beneath it. By the time the guardian stopped and blew her head apart with a close-quarters Talon pistol shot (which was, in itself, washed in irony), the asari's spine was likely already splintered by the repeated impacts of the heavy, augmented shield.

Leng and his phantoms weren't far away from any fight either. Two turians were quickly impaled on two phantom's swords, who quickly ripped them out and cloaked again as the Talon squad attempted to retaliate. Leng appeared behind the blood soaked human from before, his palm firing a burst of kinetic energy into the back of his head, blowing his brains out. He then capitalized on this and swung his sword downwards, cleanly slicing the head of another human in two, the upper half of his head sliding off as he collapsed to the ground, dead. Leng ducked as a batarian tried to bash his face in with his shotgun, followed by Leng swinging his blade downwards once more, taking the batarian's right arm with it. Screaming and dropping his shotgun in shock, the Talon was helpless as Leng smiled sadistically, spinning and driving his blade through the side of the batarian's head, the long blade easily penetrating out the other side. The batarian's scream was cut short, body going limp before Leng ripped the blade back out, letting the Talon's body collapse to the ground.

The rest of the Talons were slaughtered like cattle: it wasn't even a fight at that point. Surrounded on all sides, the Talons were quickly outflanked and decimated. In two minutes, despite Talon attempts to reclaim the advantage, the entire ambush was wiped out. Talon corpses littered the ground, with only a few Cerberus soldiers dying from the attack, despite Randall's predictions of heavy losses. Overall, with the Talon ambush force destroyed, B Company would be free to reach E Company without distraction.

Randall ordered the rest of the company to form up on the rooftop, allowing for a head count and an assessment of their situation. Leng sheathed his sword after wiping it clean of blood, ordering his phantoms to return to him as per Randall's orders. He kicked at the dead body of a batarian beside him, the look on Leng's face telling Randall all he needed to know about his thoughts on that. The assassin kicked the body once more before drawing his own attention back to Randall, straightening his coat and standing straighter, hands at his sides and looking eager to continue.

His rifle still out and ready, but lowered and tucked to his chest, he quickly addressed the thirty or so men standing before him, all armed and ready to jump to action if ordered to, "We have sustained losses men, but as you see, we once again stand victorious. Cerberus will and ingenuity has triumphed once more, and the Talon rebels lie dead at our feet. Only once these Talons and UGC are defeated can Omega know true peace. We are the defenders of Omega. We are its first line of defense. A great darkness is coming, and we must quench it. Our losses were great, but we cannot stop now. E Company needs us, and we must heed their call. Which of you would have us retreat?"

Silence was his answer. Not a single raised hand or objection was made. Randall knew in that moment that B Company remained committed.

He nodded, "Good. Then we push forward to the Zeta District. With luck we'll catch Shepard and his forces in the middle of a push: we'll turn his momentum against him. I want the heavies at the back and whatever support units we have left towards the middle. Any troopers we have remaining will be with me at the front. We must push them back whatever the cost. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" was the reciprocal cry of Randall's troops. Nodding, he ordered his troops to move out, giving a brief nod to Leng before he turned to join the rest of their company in maintaining their attack formation.

Then, suddenly, his comms lit up, with Petrovsky's voice sounding through them, "Major Ezno, I want a sitrep, PDQ."

Leaping off the side of the building, Randall felt his thrusters kick in at the last moment to lighten his fall, causing him to land with a simple thud and jolt of his knees. Grunting from the impact, and hearing several more like it from the rest of his troops, Randall stood up, holding his rifle in one hand as he tapped the side of his helmet to respond, beginning to break into a jog again, "Fairly murky, General. My company is in the Pefashi District, but we were ambushed by a Talon force led by Kandros herself. My men repelled the initial attack, but subsequent attacks have severely drained my troops. We've just dealt with the remainder and are beating feet for E Company's position, but I've lost just over sixty percent of my forces. I have faith we'll be able to push back Shepard however."

"I see," was Petrovsky's simple reaction, followed by silence over the comm.

Randall stopped when he heard the uncertainty in the General's voice in that simple response, the major frowning. Still hearing nothing, Randall spoke, curious as to what had caused Petrovsky's hesitance, "Sir?"

The General sighed over the comm, followed by what Randall could only imagine was a shake of the head, "Our losses seem to be more substantial than our gains, Major. Captain Banes has recently established contact with me. The Deliverance was defeated again and was forced to withdraw."

Leng, now standing next to Randall and listening in, burst out in anger, voice laced with equal bouts of shock and disgust, "What!? How!? How did Banes manage to fuck up that easy a kill? We had the element of surprise this time!"

Petrovsky seemed undeterred by Leng's attitude, although that was hardly a surprise at this point. The General was never fazed by the easily frustrated assassin, "Hardly the captain's fault: the Normandy has had access to unforeseen upgrades that allowed it to outmaneveur the Deliverance. Suffice to say, the UGC is mopping up what's left of our fleet now. With no naval support, the cannons offline and nothing but fighters left, I'm afraid the UGC will soon be deploying the full bulk of its ground forces onto the station. Farland has most of our forces on the other side of the station, and we don't have enough time to divert them: the UGC will be far too entrenched by the time they get there."

Randall somehow knew what was coming, but dreaded it no less. He understood the reason why, and even agreed with it, but he was no less disappointed at their second defeat, "What do you suggest we do, General?"

Petrovsky's reply was quick and to the point, "As of this instant, I'm ordering all Cerberus forces to withdraw from the Zeta, Pefashi, Felmuk and Yelsz districts and to set up defensive positions in all surrounding districts. I'll be postponing Operation: Darksword until this invasion is dealt with, and redirecting Colonel Farland's efforts to repelling the UGC assault. Randall, I want you and what's left of B Company to return to HQ and prepare for reassignment. I want to plan our next move, but I can't do that until you're here. You are our most valuable asset, and I won't lose you to a suicidal assault plan. E Company will be sacrificed to hold back Shepard long enough for the rest of our troops in the area to pull out. I will activate the Pefashi-Zeta forcefields to precipitate our withdrawal."

Randall clenched his jaw, closing his eyes as he inwardly sighed. Leng will be pissed, but he'll have to deal with it. Orders are orders, and unfortunately, Petrovsky's right. He knows our forces are stretched too thin and too disorganized to mount a proper defense. By withdrawing his troops and abandoning some of the districts, he's buying his men time to regroup, reorganize and reinforce. A united force will stand a better chance than one divided. If a few districts must be abandoned to the UGC, so be it. General Victus did the same during the War on Taetrus, and he still won. The same can be done here, if we do it right.

And we'll have to sacrifice E Company in the process.

Randall, ignoring Leng's doubtless look of anticipation, replied curtly but willingly, "Understood, sir. B Company...retreating."

"Excellent. If you notice any further developments, inform me immediately. Petrovsky out," and the comms went silent once more, Randall looking up. He looked at the corner they had just been about to move around, thinking of what could have happened if they had simply kept pushing forward.

But Randall knew exactly what would have happened. We would have bought E Company extra breathing room, nothing more. When the UGC reinforcements arrive, and they will, we would have been overrun, all the same. Two companies wiped out, and for what?

No. This is the smart thing to do. Petrovsky is right: retreat is the only option we have where we can win. E Company's sacrifice will be honoured.

He turned back to his company behind him, still ignoring Leng, "We have new orders, B company. As of now, we are initiating a full withdrawal from this district. We are to fall back to Apex, where we will recoup our losses and prepare to mount a counter offensive. This is not what we wanted, but it is what we've got. The UGC will valiantly charge after us, but we will just as valiantly fight back. Remember what I said: we are Omega's first line of defense. We will have our chance, but not today. Company...initiate the retreat."

Before Randall could even hear the company's response, Leng appeared in his vision, eyes frowned and lips creased in an outraged sneer. They trembled, fists clenched and jaw clenched firmly, veins popping up along his neck, "This is UNACCEPTABLE! We do not retreat from these vermin, they retreat from us!"

Randall turned to Leng, frowning ever so slightly. Irresponsible and insubordinate. "I don't see what part you see as unacceptable, Leng. We've lost. No shame to admit that. But we must live to fight another day or we'll simply die pointlessly. Is that what you want?"

Leng scoffed, walking up to Randall until his face was mere inches from his, "Those are the words of a coward. We are Cerberus. The unwanted ally, the necessary mediator. We are the sword of humanity. What kind of a sword swings away from its kill?"

Randall pushed Leng back, the assassin's breath no longer fogging up the visor on his helmet, which the major quickly brushed away, "A sword is only as good as its handler. That handler has decided this fight is weightless, and thus the sword will wait for its kill. Either way, it will bite flesh. That is its design. That is our design."

Leng snarled, gritting his teeth, before punching his own chest, right where the Cerberus logo was located, "That is not our way! We run away now and we show nothing but weakness! So what if we only have thirty men? Wars have been fought and won with numerical inferiority! Retreating now only gives Shepard a foothold: one we cannot allow him to possess! We should kick them off the station now! We have the troops...we outnumber them entirely! I see we rush them from all sides...a blitzkrieg!"

Randall just shook his head, "Your knowledge of tactics is so painfully narrow, Leng. So we charge the enemy...then what? They have a fleet, we don't anymore. Even if we do evict them from the station, they can simply lay siege and starve us to death. Troops need nourishment, which comes from food and water: what happens when that stops flowing because a fleet is blockading Omega? We starve, we die. They win. What you propose is both folly and stupidity. You must maintain patience and have faith that General Petrovsky knows what he is doing. The Illusive Man did not make him commander of our military for no reason."

I do not understand his logic. He would have us throw everything at the UGC over simple pride. That same strategy is what had us defeated on the Citadel. We cannot make that mistake again. Petrovsky would never be so idiotic.

"You're not hearing me!" Leng growled, his posture becoming more and more shaken, stance less controlled and more animalistic, "We have the opportunity to tear the head off the snake! Shepard is within our grasp! We tried to take him down individually in the past, and he bested us both! Together, we can put him down once and for all! With Shepard dead, his shitty little force will fall apart! He is the centerpiece of it all! We might even be able to kill Aria herself!"

Technically, Shepard never bested me. The only reason he survived our encounter was because his geth saved him. Had that never happened, I would have been successful. Don't compare my failures to yours, assassin. We are not equals.

Randall pointed at Leng to accentuate his point, believing the assassin to be rapidly losing all control of himself, "With thirty men? They have a battalion of krogan commandos and a squad of highly-trained combatants of numerous professions surrounding him, Leng. Our chances of victory are slim to none. I can see that, why can't you? Could it be that you've allowed irrational pride and irritation seize control of what logic you actually possess? You're letting emotion direct your thinking. That is unhealthy."

"I am not!" Leng spat, shaking even further, "I'm perfectly sane! You are the one making the mistake here!"

"You are emotionally unstable," Randall reciprocated, refusing to back down. The rest of B company sat back and watched, "Control yourself."

"Fuck you, Ezno," Leng snarled, spittle erupting from his mouth like that of a rabid dog, "You do not tell me what to do. I answer to the Illusive Man, not to you."

Randall nodded, ever calm, "Good. And the Illusive Man posted Petrovsky as your commanding officer, and that very CO is ordering you to retreat. This is not the Alliance, Leng. You're not your own brand of hero. You're a tool, nothing more."

Leng just chuckled, looking at Randall with a look that reminded him too much of an angry canine with its teeth bared in fury, "You're a former corsair, Randall. Do not talk to me of being a soldier. I was an N7, the best of the best. You were just an SIA pet."

That brought Randall ever so slight amusement, "Being an N7 means more than an insignia, Leng. The Alliance slapped that logo on you to satisfy itself. They wanted a champion, and you were the closest they had at the time. Entiyon was your chance to shine...your only chance. Then up comes Shepard...putting you in your place. Suddenly, the Alliance no longer needs to associate itself with a monster. Your little spectacle on the Citadel gave them the chance they needed to finally be rid of you. Shepard was a far better substitute...diplomat, soldier, hero...but you Leng? You were just a killer. Nobody wants a simple killer for a hero, Leng. Especially not a rabid dog."

A low hiss could be heard eminating from the assassin's mouth, and Randall knew he was striking a chord, "The Illusive Man saw the potential in me..."

Randall sighed, "No, he really didn't. He saw a trained killer, nothing more. If it had been you who died, not Shepard, do you think he would have spent the same amount he did to bring you back? Do you think he would have founded Lazarus? He wouldn't have, and the reason is simple: the Illusive Man saw a tool. He saw the hatred you had for aliens and channelled it for his own use. Your recruitment was circumstance...a want, rather than a need. You think you're special because they gave you an N7 commendation? You're not. The Illusive Man could have attempted to recruit many N7s. You only got chosen because you were useful. As you know, Shepard had his usefulness too. Usefulness is a term used for tools. And every once and a while, those tools need to be replaced."

"Your opinion of me is irrelevant!" the assassin remained adamant, despite Randall's prods, "My plan is the best one we've got! Retreat now, we lose the advantage! We advance, and we can end this! I know we can!"

He sounds more desperate than assured. He's driven by emotions I don't understand, and seems to act like this retreat is an afront to his pride and dignity. Almost as if killing Shepard matters more than the loss associated with-

It finally dawned on Randall. Of course.

"This isn't about strategy or tactics," Randall suddenly interrupted, Leng's attention focused solely on him, "This is about Shepard and nothing but him."

The assassin laughed menacingly, sounding more and more disillusioned as he spoke, "Of course it is, you moron! Have you been listening to a word I've said? Taking out Shepard is the only-"

Seeing that Leng was trying to dodge the topic, Randall interrupted the assassin mid rant, sternly silencing him, "No, that is your primary motivation. Behind everything. Anything and everything you've done has been centered around Shepard. Your hatred of aliens has only intensified now that you've encountered Shepard's squad. Many of your recent, successful assassinations have been people associated with him: the husband of that quarian admiral, the late Lieutenant Taylor and more recently Thane Krios. Every single time Shepard is present, you gravitate towards him like a magnet. Why are you so desperate to kill him, Leng? Is it because it annoys you how much resources the Illusive Man put into bringing him back? Is it what he represents or the alien company he keeps? Is it that he betrayed and opposes Cerberus and what we stand for?" he saw no change in Leng's expression, but what he did notice was the assassin tensing up.

Clearly, Randall was reaching the heart of the topic. He moved forward, closing the distance as he thought, bringing his face closer until it was mere inches from his own. The assassin refused to meet his gaze, and Randall realized in that moment exactly what Leng's problem was.

"No, I don't believe it has to do with any of that," Randall stated, narrowing his eyes, "This isn't because Shepard turned his back on us. This isn't because he befriends aliens or represents an agenda you don't like. This is personal for you. Now I understand why you won't retreat...why you can't retreat. Why it would be such a blow to your pride if you did. Strategy has nothing to do with it..." his lips were locked straight, not a single semblance of a smile gracing them, even as he reached the heart of the topic.

"...you're disgusted. You can't accept that someone like Shepard stole your spotlight. You were a hero...and then you weren't. You were the Savior of Entiyon...until the Lion of Elysium one upped you. Shepard is everything you're not. You hate that he's better than you. You hate that he's smarter than you. You hate his success. Everything you were or could be...stolen by him. Is that about right, Leng?" he lowered his head, Leng's eyes finally turning to meet Randall's, almost warning him to stop. Randall did not heed that warning, "Are you jealous?"

Even Randall wasn't fast enough to see the strike coming.

Leng snarled in a fit of rage, his right fist swinging up in a flash to connect with the side of Randall's head. The manhunter cried out as he was lifted from the ground by the blow, throwing him across the deck where he rolled several times before coming to a stop, his rifle sliding away from his grip. His eyesight blurred, Randall could only roll himself onto his back, ripping his helmet off as he realized the HUD was glitched, the helmet's emitter damaged by Leng's punch. Clearing up his vision, he saw that there was now a massive dent in the side of the helmet, missing Randall's cheek by a mere hair's width.

Leng was like a fury: he quickly descended upon Randall, delivering a rapid flurry of punches to the downed soldier's face. Randall was ready this time: he quickly parried every single blow, raising his right leg up in the process to deliver a powerful blow to the assassin's chest. Taken offguard by the attack, Leng stumbled, giving Randall the opening to grab Leng by both sides of the head, bringing him down, and allowing the manhunter to slam his head into the assassin's, leading to Leng falling back from the attack, holding his head and growling animalistically.

Randall, with an opening now created, quickly leapt to his feet, and assumed a protective posture, waiting for Leng to make his move. To his credit, the assassin recovered quickly and did not immediately go for his sword, instead keeping this strictly hand-to-hand. Sneering and teeth bared, the two circled each other, watching the other one with intense eye contact, analyzing the other's next move. It was clear that when Leng thought things through, his training as an N7 was clear as day.

My jabs were just that...jabs. He earned his N7 commendation, but through blood, lies and dead bodies.

But Randall was a better thinker. Thinking was and never would be Leng's strong suit.

Finally seeming to reach a decision, Leng lunged forward, shouting vehemently as he charged, left arm propped forward like a battering ram. Randall saw the move coming, and was ready, twisting his position so that Leng would be charging into the wall behind him. As Leng's momentum carried him past Randall, he quickly grabbed the assassin by the neck, hand clenching around his throat in a vice like grip. There was a choking sound as Randall used all his cybernetically enhanced strength to spin around, taking Leng with him, slamming him into the wall with a loud bang, the wind exploding from Leng's lungs due to the impact, and leaving him breathless.

Leaning forward and bringing them face to face, Randall refused to loosen his grip, letting Leng know who was in command. The assassin simply glared back at him, the black 'goggles' covering his eyes making it impossible to see the hate likely brewing in them, but due to Randall's superior positioning, Leng was clearly unable to fight back and must have known he had lost their brief skirmish.

Randall made sure to let Leng know this in totality, "We are going to follow orders. We will retreat to HQ and we will remain there until ordered otherwise. You will not allow your emotions to compromise our mission. If I catch so much as a whiff of insubordination I will make sure the Illusive Man gets you the lowest janitorial position on the Deliverance. Am I ever so abundantly clear, or must I reclarify my point?"

Silence followed for the next few moments. Glares were exchanged, both of them staring each other down unflinchingly for what felt like an eternity for both of them. Neither side flinched. Neither side broke. They were both supersoldiers: one assassin, one manhunter, but both of them were expert killers, and one didn't learn such a profession without becoming unnervingly stoic. Randall's grip never loosened this entire time, the colour slowly leaving Leng's face as the air was squeezed from him.

But in the end, somebody had to break, and it was never the position in the superior position.

Leng finally gasped, nodding, managing to croak out a simple response through a ragged breath, "F-f-fine...!"

Randall nodded, immediately releasing the assassin. He wheezed unsettingly as he grabbed hold of his own throat, as if it would help him retrieve his breath faster. Most of the color returned to his face, although he still looked incredibly out of breath. Randall turned back to his company, who had patiently waited the entire time, and nodded.

Now you've been humiliated infront of the entire company, Leng. They all see you for what you are. A sycophant, an emotional bomb and a disgraced special forces operator with no other marketable skills but the art of taking life. Take a long hard look men...this is not what you want to be.

Not even Leng's own phantoms had come to the assassin's aid, the two simply waiting for orders.

They soon had them, the manhunter leaning down to retrieve his broken helmet and his harrier rifle, magnetizing the former to the back of his belt and slapping a fresh thermal clip into the latter, "Move out, men. Double time it. No doubt E Company has fallen while we've been...squabbling. We must run fast if we wish to outrun them."

The company began to file out as ordered, and Randall turned to Leng, who looked to have recovered most of his breath, this time managing to stand without kneeling over. Randall showed no sympathy however, regarding him as one would an insect, "You can catch your breath later. I won't report this to General Petrovsky, but if you do this next time, I will not be so lenient. I might not let go either."

The assassin gave him a simple glare before kicking up into a jog, running past the manhunter...

...in the direction of B company, and of retreat.

Randall nodded silently. So he can be tamed.

Without a single look back, Randall joined them.

{Loading...}

August 5, 2186

1712 hours.

War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega.

Second War for Omega.

General Oleg Petrovsky.

For the first time in the entirety of Petrovsky's control of Omega...he had ordered a retreat.

Ordering retreats was certainly not new to him. When he had served under General Williams in the First Contact War as a colonel, he had ordered numerous retreats. Whether it was under heavy turian orbital bombardment or simply from encroaching Hierarchy ground forces, Petrovsky had ordered many withdrawals: he was no stranger to the concept. When General Williams gave his infamous order to all Shanxi troops to surrender, Petrovsky had even reaffirmed the order himself. It was something Petrovsky was far from bitter about: it was simply a necessity of bearing a command and having to engage superior forces.

As was one of his personal mantras, 'You must expect multiple retreats before you can expect a single victory.'

Petrovsky was a realist, not an optimist. He made victories happen where they could, accepted defeats when he should. There was no 'well, if we devote enough troops, eventually we'll win' mentality to his directives: he always had a set goal in mind, and whether he achieved it or not was up to the opposing side. He knew he couldn't throw troops at the problem and hope that numbers and manpower decided the confrontation...hence why he had ordered his men to retreat. He knew sending waves of troops instead of simply shoring them up in greater numbers would only make the UGC's job much easier, and so the decision he ultimately made seemed inevitable.

So as he looked over his datapad, jaw loosened and hand idly stroking his heard, he glanced over the information his governors were sending him, both on civilian and military matters. Civilian population seems largely docile. We've gone three months without a pro-Talon riot, and our new medical and food supply programs have gone well. There hasn't been a single confrontation between my troops and tumultuous citizens for a while. Good. The more they stay clear off the crossfire, the better. Regardless, I best order an evacuation of the surrounding districts. We can't afford to risk civilian casualties.

Turning away from the datapad and lowering it onto the desk infront of him, he looked up to see the holo projector in the center of New Order HQ, where Afterlife's pole dancing podium used to stand, flashing images of naked asari bodies and promising dreams of sweaty, breathless nights. Now it was a large, war room-type desk, with a massive, red hologram of Omega projected over it, relaying tactical data in real time. Around it were three of Omega's four governors, with the fourth, Farland, out on the field organizing the defense of the Omega Apex. They looked to be coordinating their own troops in the numerous quadrants highlighted, large blue dots representing current Cerberus force deployment, while green represented known UGC positions. Two of his governors were arguing over something Petrovsky could not understand from where he was, while the third leaned over his tactical readout with some exasperation.

Turning from his desk, he walked to the back of his personal war room and descended down the flight of stairs leading up to it, which circled back into the central headquarters. Approaching his governors from behind, he noted that the two arguing were Connor Amish and Heather Colwood, while Mitchell Wchest was the one leaning over the console, paying the other two no mind.

Wishing to see what had his colonels so divided, Petrovsky increased his pace until he was beside them, clearing his throat so he could be heard, "I would like to know immediately why two of my colonels are bickering, right now. This is hardly the time to be having such dissension in our ranks."

Colwood was the first to speak, sighing as she turned to Petrovsky with a frown, sounding angry and annoyed, "Colonel Amish has ordered his men to halt in the Yelsz district and set up defensive positions while advance recon teams evacuate civilians from the district and harass the advancing enemy column. Not only that, but his men were supposed to regroup with mine in the Doru district as part of the retreat, and never communicated to let us know that they were doing so. My men wasted precious time...time that allowed the UGC to get closer. I could have lost an entire regiment to this bafoon's idiocy."

"Ha!" was Amish's response, the colonel shaking his head before crossing his arms, "You may not understand the tactics of my decision, but I do. I took what time I had left to evacuate what civilians I could before they fell into UGC hands. They were going to overrun our position, regardless. I bought your men extra time to retreat and they sat on it. Not my fault your commanders are incompetent."

"They didn't even know about your stupid decision to begin with!" Colwood spat back at him, "They thought you'd been attacked. The whole point of this retreat was to regroup. You defied that order so you could be a hero and now my regiment are a full ten minutes behind in regrouping with the rest of the Second Corps. How are we supposed to beat the UGC if you don't even follow orders?"

Petrovsky shook his head, "Have both your forces pulled out as instructed?"

Both of them turned to the General, and after a moment of hesitation, both managed to blurt out, "Yes."

"Then I see no problem," holding a hand up to halt Colwood's objection, he continued, "We have other things to worry about. Colonel Amish did the right thing in evacuating the civilians, and you did the right thing in reporting this breach in communication protocol. I want you to both ensure these mistakes do not happen again. They may seem petty, but they can compromise our entire operation if you're not careful. You are colonels...act like it. Now, Colonel Amish...how many civilians did you evacuate and where to?"

Amish saluted him before responding, ignoring Colwood's further sigh of defeat, "About 9,000 sir. I ordered them to drop everything and leave. Personal possessions, vehicles...everything, sir. The evacuation was completed in just over seven minutes. From there, we escorted them towards the Gozu district, where they now currently reside. I have my men distributing rations and supplies to them now, sir. I'm also having my men reinforce all possible entrances and doubling the patrols. I lost quite a few men protecting the Zeta district, but I've withdrawn the rest to the defensive positions you laid out. As governor of the Rubicon quadrant, I will ensure no breaches in our line occur. I have the 6th Regiment already establishing a line of defense, with the 8th and 9th moving into reinforce them. The 7th will remain in reserve. Do you want me to retask our local RAMPARTs?"

Petrovsky nodded, "With most of those districts about to be evacuated, I believe that a wise decision. In every district that's been evacuated, have those RAMPART mechs reassigned to support and sabotage roles. How you organize your defense is up to you, but I recommend having your armoured vehicles and Atlases reinforcing every single street. Have snipers on the rooftops, combat engineers in the alleyways. Whatever you do, make sure every street is turned into a choke point. If the UGC calls for air support, use what gunships, shuttles and fighters you have at your disposal. Keep them bogged down. Steer clear of any populated areas, though. I do not want civilians getting caught in the crossfire, understood?"

Amish offered one final, crisp salute, "Yes sir! I will take a shuttle down there and personally oversee it myself, sir."

Petrovsky shook his head, landing a hand on Amish's relatively thin shoulders, grasping them tightly just as the colonel turned to move away, the governor's attention brought back to Petrovsky. Thin shoulders, medium build. No meat on those bones. He has no military experience and that means he hasn't seen combat. He'd be useless in a straight up fight.

"That will not be necessary. Coordinate your forces from here," Amish opened his mouth to object, but Petrovsky quickly silenced him, "I need you close. If you are lost to a stray bullet, I will have lost a colonel. I cannot afford that. After losing Ashe, Farland was the closest I had to a replacement, and we do not have an infinite amount of commanders to choose from. Remain here and coordinate from the war room if you have to. Let your ground commanders lead from the field. You lead from the holos."

Amish sighed, slumping his shoulders, before finally nodding, "I...yes, sir. I understand."

Petrovsky gave him a slight smile, "Very good, colonel. Return to your readout and continue coordinating our defense. You're doing humanity proud."

Letting go of Amish's shoulder, the governor of the besieged Rubicon left to attend to the battle, while Petrovsky turned to Colwood, who was now looking at the General, although looking slightly irritated, "Colonel Colwood, I need an update on your own forces."

She nodded, running a hand down her tired face, "Well, despite Amish's delays, the 10th regiment did manage to get back to Apex, and I have them shoring up with Farland's 2nd regiment outside HQ. The 11th and 12th are currently also retreating towards the Kyle and Erichlen districts, and I'm getting reports that the 13th has briefly engaged more UGC forces on the far side of the Fulmuk district, but are withdrawing safely with minimal casualties. However...what worries me is the reports. Sir, they have geth and quarians fighting beside each other. I don't know what Shepard did, but they were seeing some weird shit."

Petrovsky nodded, shaking his head, "Yes, Admiral Bonaparte, before we lost contact with him, had relayed reports to me of quarian and geth warships operating as part of the UGC fleet. It appears Shepard has done more than simply cure the genophage. But do not let that deter you. Geth die to bullets just as much as the standard soldier, they just take more of them. Make sure your men know that the next time they are forced to engage them."

Colwood licked her lips, uncrossing her arms, "Got it, General. Now, what do you want me to do with the men I've got? Keep the population in check? The Talons are still very much an issue, and I've got an entire quadrant to manage."

Petrovsky nodded, entering a parade rest stance, "Have the 11th and 12th return to the Rhine quadrant, colonel. No point in fighting this war if we let our quadrants fall to the Talon rebels. Do what you must to ensure that doesn't happen."

She gave him a simple salute, lowering her hand soon afterwards, "On it, General." She then turned back to the screen, notably far from Amish, and began to broadcast her set orders. Finally, Petrovsky addressed Colonel Wchest, who did not turn to Petrovsky until he finally noticed the General standing there, quickly turning and offering a salute. Unlike Colwood, Amish and Farland, Wchest actually was former military...namely, a former UNAS Delta Force major. His shoulders were well built, beard cut to his former regulation practice and a simple cap lowered over his scalp. The man had been the only one of the colonels in the room solely focused on his readout, looking over the details with an obsessive stare. His salute was strong and firm, not like Amish and Colwood who's salutes lacked conviction, and were only done out of a misguided need to address the fact they were now technically military.

Petrovsky saluted him back, before clasping his hands back again, "Colonel Wchest, you've been awfully quiet unlike your fellow colonels. How goes the Hudson quadrant?"

Wchest lowered his own hand as well, keeping them firmly at his side, head held high in the presence of his superior officer, "All things are quiet on my end, General. The 5th is currently returning after you postponed Darksword, but the 14th, 15th and 16th are currently on high alert and ready to move. Talon activity has been the lightest in that quadrant, sir. There's simply not much to report."

Petrovsky raised one eyebrow at that, "Then why are you so focused on that readout if everything is quiet?"

Wchest exhaled deeply, shrugging, "Guess I don't like the idea of quiet. When you're on a space station full of angry rebels and terrorists wanting to kill you, there's going to be violence. The lack of it scares me because then you know they're planning something. Then you think of what they might hit: a supply depot? A barracks full of troops? A factory? A forcefield maintenance team? A patrol? Our headquarters? Silence is a dead giveaway, sir. I learnt that during Cornucopia. You heard of it?"

Petrovsky nodded, "Indeed I have. A joint South American-Israeli military operation conducted against the UIS in the Middle East in 2159. I don't believe the UNAS was involved in that conflict."

That seemed to amuse Wchest, "Since when is the west ever involved in an eastern conflict?" His rhetorical question was laced with sarcasm, and Petrovsky couldn't help but smile at it.

"Touche," was his response.

Wchest nodded, "I was part of a Delta Force unit sent to aid the Israelis in destabilizing UIS operations in the area. We...uh...were responsible for that MOAB incident that resulted in 89 UIS deaths and 16 South American soldiers," he looked away, almost ashamed, "Shoddy intelligence was to blame. We were told our forces had pulled out. Turned out UIS had a Union squad pinned down when Washington gave the go ahead. Officially, the incident was blamed on Israel. I..." he sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair, "...gave the order."

"Ah," the General epiphanied, nodding his head, "You feel guilty for their deaths."

"I felt guilty. But that shit is old news. It's in the past. Now, I'm a full time hypocrite," Wchest chuckled bitterly, "UIS was formed in response to the Alliance becoming affiliated with aliens following our war with the turians. Now, here I am...with a pro-human organization doing the exact same thing they did just with fancier tech."

"I can see where you come from colonel, but it isn't the same. Not anymore," Petrovsky stated, patting the man on the shoulder, "Cerberus fights for a galactic future. This isn't about just humanity anymore. The Illusive Man believes humanity's best chance for survival is to control the Reapers: we must trust that he knows what is right for us. If that means stopping Shepard, then we must. They do not thank us now, but they will someday." Hardly. I don't believe in the Illusive Man's ideals anymore than Wchest. But I need my colonels at their best...

"Thank you, sir. But I would prefer an actual battle over this waiting," Wchest shrugged once more, turning back to his readout, "I stare at this screen hoping for an anomaly to pop up. Anything to get me active...perhaps a Talon scout or a recovered bomb or intercepted broadcast. Anything or everything would be better than twiddling my thumbs waiting for something to happen."

"Patience is a virtue. I thought you would learn that in Delta Force," Petrovsky queried.

Wchest nodded, "I went to West Point: patience was probably the biggest part of their officer training course, or at least the underlying theme of it all. But there's only so much patience one can endure in such a tension filled engagement," sighing, he scratched the back of his neck, turning back to look Petrovsky in the eyes, "Still, my men will await your word. Whenever you need us, they're ready. I just hope it's sooner rather than later."

Petrovsky offered nothing but a salute, "Hold position, colonel. I believe you'll find your fight sooner than you think."

Turning away, Petrovsky quickly ascended the stairs back to his war room, reaching the top just as Colwood shouted up at him from below.

"General Petrovsky!" her words sounded panicked.

He frowned, leaning over his desk to look down at her, "What's the emergency?"

"It's First Fleet, sir!" she replied, voice just as loud and tumultuous, "We just lost our last ship. They're gone, sir. The UGC fleet is establishing a blockade around the station."

He nodded, acknowledging what he already knew would happen. Without our fleet, the UGC now have naval supremacy. We have to break that. Luckily, we have a way of communicating with the rest of Cerberus that the UGC can never block.

"Understood," was his curt reply, "Return to maintaining ground operations. I will request reinforcements from the Illusive Man."

With a sigh, he turned away from his desk, clenching his jaw and feeling his age beginning to kick in. Regardless, he knew the war wasn't over, and that there was still a fighting chance for victory: if he could just get a fleet to repel the UGC forces, then perhaps there was a chance to reclaim naval superiority."

He slowly dipped his head, eyes giving his chessboard an ever so brief glance. Leaning down, he grabbed two of Shepard's pawns and knocked over two of his own, both of which fizzled out of existence. Straightening himself up, he walked to the back of his war room and arrived at his QEC, where he promptly sent a communication request to Cronos Station and stood on the pad, hands still in parade rest in a perfect symbol of military professionalism. After all, he was still a general, even in the presence of Cerberus' illusive leader.

As always, a few moments passed before Cronos accepted the request, and before no time Petrovsky found himself in the familiar dark, circular room of 'Humanity's Sanctum.' He squinted his eyes for a moment as they adjusted to the bright light of Anadius in the background, the gigantic star's proximity still monstrously bright even through the tinting of the observation windows. He looked forward, finding the illuminated figure of the Illusive Man sitting in his chair, arms rested on the sides and a cigar resting in its ashtray, smoke trailing for its consumed end. His normally filled glass of whiskey was now on the ground and empty, light reflecting off of it from the sun. Standing beside Cerberus' commander-in-chief was another man, this one standing and clearly wearing a Cerberus uniform, whispering in his ear and gripping a datapad in his hand. Petrovsky recognized him as Geoff Dielheart: the Illusive Man's new second-in-command following Lawson's defection.

Likely having seen that Petrovsky's connection had succeeded, the Illusive Man twisted his head to face the General, waving a hand to dismiss the lieutenant. Geoff immediately stood up, nodded and made a hasty exit, walking past Petrovsky and towards the exit at the back of his room, datapad held at his side. His footsteps echoed across the panelled floor until they were silenced by the closing of the door behind them. Alone, the Illusive Man took a whiff of his cigar, before letting it escape from his mouth, blue synthetic eyes meeting the General's instantly, "General, I was not expecting to hear from you so soon. Have you made any progress in expelling Shepard's forces?"

The Illusive Man had been kept well informed of everything that was going on by Petrovsky through regular updates, but those had since stopped once the geth had blocked standard non-QEC external communications, forcing Petrovsky to resort to relaying important mission via QEC, like he was doing now, "It could be better. Shepard and his troops have disabled our cannons and are currently engaging Colonel Amish's regiments along the Rubicon quadrant. We're holding, but I'll be coordinating with Leng, Banes and Ezno to come up with a plan to expel his forces permanently. However, I do not call about that. The UGC fleet has won the naval battle against our own fleet and have recently destroyed what's left of it. Their ships can now operate with impunity."

There was a sigh, the Illusive Man resting his head in one hand, rubbing his forehead seemingly with frustration. Dumping his cigar in its respective ashtray, he stayed leaning back, scratching his greying brown hair, "That's an advantage we cannot afford to let them keep, General. This defeat is absolutely unacceptable. I want you to inform Admiral Bonaparte that such failure will not be tolerated in the future."

He licked his lips, Petrovsky feeling an immense sense of annoyance at his own situation as well, "That will not be possible. Admiral Bonaparte is no longer with us. He died defending the station from his flagship, the heavy frigate Objector."

"An unfortunate setback, but one we can recover from. Nevertheless, the loss of an entire fleet should not be taken lightly," the Illusive Man replied, letting his words rest as if already predicting the General's next request. The shady benefactor always seemed to know something before anybody else did: it was almost as if he could read somebody's mind simply by looking at them. His synthetic, husk-like eyes didn't help that distinction.

Finally, he gave a quick nod, knowing the Illusive Man would not finish that sentence anytime soon, "I make this call in a bid for reinforcements. Naval supremacy in the hands of the enemy is tantamount to giving them their triumph."

"Too true," was his simple response, "The closest fleets I can have dispatched to your location are the Fifth and Ninth. However, one is currently in the Exodus cluster and the other is in the Voyager cluster. The amount of time it would take for both to leave their respective locations, evade Reaper forces and successfully arrive at Omega to assist you would be a while. I estimate at least five days," a sigh, followed by the inhale of a cigar's fumes, "...I assume you can hold out until then?"

Five days. Omega has enough military provisions to last five years or more. That should do nicely. We've just got to keep Shepard and Aria bogged down long enough for our reinforcements to destroy the UGC fleet and catch Shepard in an encirclement.

He snapped a salute, followed by one final nod of the head to demonstrate he accepted the Illusive Man's conditions, "We can hold out for five days. Until then, I'll have my men use everything at their disposal to keep Shepard and Aria pinned. They shouldn't be an issue much longer. Even Shepard is fallible. Besides, we also have the Deliverance."

"Good. A useful weapon...make sure to use it," the Illusive Man ordered, before bringing up a holographic screen before him, "Now, if you do not mind, there are other issues I must attend to. I will relay your orders to admirals Greengrass and Stone. Hold Omega, General. Titan is not yet finished. We cannot afford to lose our foothold in the Terminus. Another UGC victory against us is another Reaper victory. Remember what's at stake."

With that, the communication was unceremoniously cut, leaving Petrovsky to look blankly at a wall for several moments. He looks...more and more tired each time I see him. Almost as if managing a galaxy-wide war effort against two opponents is becoming too much to handle. The look in his eyes, the greying in his hair...he seems to be physically aging as much as he is mentally aging. That, and his cold, seemingly deadened, gaze...

Petrovsky shook off those feelings, turning away from the pedestal he stood on and quickly returning to his desk. There was much work to do, and with the assurance of reinforcements, that workload was made much less. Now he just had to do what he did best.

Fight a ground war.

{Loading...}

August 5, 2186

1701 hours.

10th Delilah Street, Rubicon Quadrant, Zeta District, Omega.

Second War for Omega, Battle of the Zeta District.

Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Moses, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko, First Lieutenant Jack, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak.

"ARRRGGGHHHHHH!" came a boisterous yell from behind them, signalling the arrival of much welcomed reinforcements, "...let's crank up the heat!"

Marcus fired his rifle one final time before turning to see his friend stomping towards the Cerberus entrenchment, slamming in another thermal clip. He had taken down six assault troopers with clean headshots, but not much more: these Cerberus had been smart and kept to cover, something that even Garrus had found very little time to exploit. The turian lay prone to Marcus' left, sniper rifle propped up against this shoulder and cracking off shots at anything that moved, but so far he had only managed to kill a trio of nemesi and a guardian.

Another grenade plopped down on the ground and Liara once again formed a biotic barrier to deflect the blast. Marcus flinched slightly from the blast, body reacting to the presense of the normally devastating explosion. The trio of Cerberus vehicles remained where they were: the two Angel IFVs poured fire towards their flank, while the M32 Thresher focused on the other flank. The Atlas had thankfully been taken care of, courtesy of Moses: the Cerberus company had tried to flush them out by sending an Atlas over the barricade, but Moses and his combat drone managed to penetrate the cockpit and kill the driver, causing the powerful mech to collapse ontop of the barricade, crushing the sheets of metal beneath it, opening up a gaping hole in their defense and taking the lumbering armoured exoskeleton out of the equation.

Currently, their team was split into two: both on opposite sides of the street. Marcus, Garrus, Liara, Moses, Javik, James, Jack and her students were on the left, while Aria, Tali, Kasumi, EDI, Keeling and Kaidan were on the right. Kasumi and Tali coordinated with their tech, while Liara, Aria, Marcus, Kaidan, Javik and Jack ran riot with their biotic abilities. Everybody else poured fire into the enemy troops as they peeked their heads out to fire back at them, although this tactic only managed to pick off several soldiers before they caught on and used the tanks as support while they blind fired at them. The rachni remained hidden around the corner, Marcus not wanting to risk losing too many troops to the well entrenched white and gold bogies.

For close to fifteen minutes, both sides kept each other pinned, neither able to make significant advances. His squad kept the Cerberus company suppressed, while the enemy ensured they couldn't push them back. They were caught in a fluctuating stalemate...at least until now.

Grinning from cheek to cheek, Marcus turned and watched as a wall of krogan commandos charged towards the enemy at breakneck pace, roaring at the top of their lungs. At the front of the enormous display of Tuchankan manpower was a silver armoured krogan that Marcus instantly recognized as Grunt, the krogan wielding his claymore shotgun between his two heavily armoured arms, leading his men towards the promise of fiery glory and mayhem.

And he and his battalion weren't alone. Three squads of Blood Pack mingled amongst the 1st Aralakh Battalion, the familiar color of their crimson red and white standard standing out from the more plain colouring of their UKC counterparts. Vorcha troops hissed and spat, M-8 avenger assault rifles, M-23 katana shotguns, M-3 predator pistols and Punisher SMGs gripped firmly between clawed fingers, their excessively razorsharp canine teeth (that looked more akin to actual knives than teeth) snapping together repetitively as the vorcha chomped them down, eager for a quick meal. Their krogan commanders wore their blood red Thresher combat armor, pointing their vorcha underlings forward and making sure their guns were primed at the only enemy that mattered at that point in time.

It looked as if the Cerberus company had taken notice of the krogan and vorcha stampede heading towards them: how couldn't they? Heads steadily popped out to see what the fuss was about, and Garrus took the opportunity to blow the head off a centurion, along with that of a dragoon. They caught on quickly though, using another dragoon to project a biotic barrier to deflect all further incoming shots, while allowing the Cerberus troops to begin attacking the oncoming krogan battalion. The three tanks redirected their fire as well, with only a few troopers left to keep Shepard's squad pinned...

...a hefty mistake.

While the boom of the three Cerberus tanks opening fire was heard, Marcus motioned for Garrus and Javik to flank him while he moved forward. Motioning to the rest of the squad on the other side, the two moved as one, attacking from both sides. His rifle raised, he immediately swept across the barricades, pulse rifle tearing apart the heads of four troopers in quick succession, blood dripping down the makeshift sheets of steel. Quickly reaching it, Marcus banged against it, the rest of the squad quickly joining them. Marcus quickly reached down to his belt, yanking a grenade free and having his squad do the same. Once he saw they all had grenades out, he primed his and tossed it over the barricade, the rest of them quickly following suit with their own. With all that said and done, Marcus quickly turned to Moses, the towering geth prime crouching beside them to remain.

"Tear down that sheet, Moses," Marcus ordered, quickly backing up with the rest as Moses nodded and stood at his full height, storming forward.

The prime, with an electronic shriek, quickly grabbed the closest piece of metal and roughly tore it from its weak hinges, tossing it aside and exposing the engineer that had been hiding behind it, typing away at his omni-tool. He looked up, barely getting a chance to cry out before Moses swatted him aside, body flying out onto the street, rolling to Garrus' feet. Lowering his mattock, he put two bursts through the engineer's head, painting the ground with his brains.

At this point, their grenades detonated, sending pieces of shrapnel in every direction. Several soldiers wielding grenade launchers were knocked over running away from the blasts, while one of the M28 Angels was forced to reverse to escape any damage. Moses wasted no time in raising his pulse cannon and firing upon said Angel, the vehicle's kinetic barriers lighting up as it ate up the impacts. Marcus and his squad advanced behind them, the N7 captain turning to watch as Aria biotically tore a metal sheet off on their side in a similar manner, all of them charging through their own gap.

The rachni didn't hesitate to take advantage of the new hole in the Cerberus defenses. The insectoid horde swarmed in single file, quickly closing the gap between them and Shepard and gliding through the hole like a plague of locusts. The krogan battalion wasted no time in reaching the barricade themselves, the Cerberus troopers unable to do anything as Grunt whipped out his favourite M-100 Spiculum grenade launcher, complete with notches in the side for each successful blast, and fired at them, causing the dragoon to waver from the direct impact. Growling, the krogan turned to the barricade, took aim with his weapon and fired again. Marcus didn't hang around to see what happened next, moving through to engage the rest of the company.

As he stepped through, he noticed that his squad were already hard at work: strewn around the hole were a dozen fresh corpses, riddled with bullet holes from shotguns and assault rifles. He heard a loud electronic scream once more, turning to watch as Moses raised his arm to block the Angel's turret from swivelling to face him, forcing it in a direction it wasn't turning. Sparks begin to sputter from within as mechanical parts groaned under the pressure, forced to commit to one action while it was being pushed by an external force to do another. The prime eventually won out, reaching under the tank and lifting it up. The turret swung uselessly to the side as the tank was quickly capsized, the prime's servos exerting enormous strength as it rolled over the heavy vehicle.

The IFV landed with a bang and a screech of metal-to-metal contact, the distinct sound of bodies rolling around inside being heard. Its belly exposed (and very much unprotected by shielding), the prime stuck its pulse cannon right under it and fired, hot blasts of molten plasma making short work of the light armor underneath and incinerating the occupants inside, the blasts tearing through the otherside, utterly gutting the tank from the inside out.

While that was going on, the two squad elements joined forces in tearing about the now outflanked Cerberus forces. Debris littered the deck, blood mingling with it as Aria tossed and tore apart troopers with her biotics. Liara reached out with her own to grab the dragoon on the barricade, tearing him down to their level and quickly shooting him in the chest multiple times, killing him. As a result, the troopers on the barricade were now defenseless.

Not that it mattered.

An explosion burst through the center wall as Grunt unloaded one final grenade into it, the explosion sending twisted metal and debris flying inwards, the miniture projectiles forcing the squad to duck down, several troopers not being so lucky as they were showered with it, shredding them with highly deadly, weaponized shards of barricade. The troopers standing on the barricade directly above the blast fell into it, where they were brutally stomped to death by the krogan charging through it, paying the soldiers no mind as the stampeded crushed them under dozens of krogan feet, leaving their feet slick with blood.

A lone centurion stood no chance as a final grenade struck him dead center in the chest, transforming him into over a dozen different servings of raw meat and a jugs of blood, all of which flashed in the air for a mere second before splashing across the deck. Grunt, laughing manaically the entire time, holstered the weapon and grabbed his claymore, sights immediately landing on a grinning Marcus. The krogan's maw stretched into an equally profound smirk, blood dripping down his lips in an almost terrifying display of sadism.

At that point, the battle was over for Cerberus. The company was quickly routed, their proximity within the barricades rendering the tanks useless, and their troops heavily outnumbered. They fell left and right, torn apart and shot to death. Rachni workers swarmed over the lone form of an assault troopers, pincers biting into armor and flesh and tearing it apart. The trooper screamed as he fell to the ground, the workers shredding him from flesh to bone. Krogan cheered as they blasted their shotguns away, and others stomped down on soldiers unlucky enough to retreat like the others. Vorcha screeched hysterically as they unloaded their weapons into the withdrawing enemy, shooting them in the back. As for the tanks...after seeing what Moses did to the first Angel, the remaining tanks were quickly abandoned, men leaping from hatches simply to escape the prime and its explosive rampage.

A battle that had gone for fifteen minutes straight...ended in just over a minute.

Marcus surveyed the combat area after the engagement had ended, looking over the bodies. Easily over eighty dead Cerberus corpses littered the street, the strong scent of blood mixing in with the veritable smorgasbord of devastation. By the time he called the rest of his forces to regroup on him, it quickly dawned on him that Petrovsky hadn't even bothered to send reinforcements to save this company.

Not a single slice of reinforcement...not a single squad came to help. Did Petrovsky just leave these men to die? Doesn't seem like him, at least not how Aria described him anyway.

There was a squelch accompanied simultaneously by a loud cracking of bones, causing Marcus to turn and see Grunt walking towards him, stepping over the dead cadaver of a dead trooper in the process: the krogan's enormous weight proved too much for the body, hence the cracking. Arriving at Marcus' side, the large krogan commander nodded.

"My men and the Blood Pack are mopping up what's left now," he stated, his lack of a smile providing evidence of his seriousness, "We can press on towards the Tuhi district whenever you're ready."

The spectre nodded, slapping Grunt on the back before pulling his hand back and walking towards Aria, who was currently walking around, checking the bodies to make sure they were all dead, and blasting a shotgun shell into the back of any soldier who wasn't. Arriving behind her, he called out her name, causing her to turn around, a ghost of a smile at the corner of her lips.

"Petrovsky's doing a much poorer job than I had expected," the asari gloated, turning back to a legless nemesis on the ground. Marcus had noticed the slight switch of the head too, and he didn't stop the asari as she pulled the trigger, shotgun shell blasting apart her back and stopping her twitching instantly. She cocked it back, loading a fresh shell into the shotgun before cornering her head to talk to him, "All we've had is a few piss weak attempts at a defense. We've taken his cannons, and he sends a company to hold us down. I honestly thought he was smarter than this."

"Don't get cocky, Aria," he said disapprovingly, shaking his head at the asari, who now holstered her shotgun, "If Petrovsky is as intelligent as you made him out to be, no doubt this is all part of a plan of his. He could be probing us...testing to analyze our tactics, what we're trying to do...or it could all be a diversion. He doesn't always have to attack us directly. You should know that."

She simply shrugged, pushing past him nonchalantly, "I guess you have a point. Still, I wouldn't bet on Petrovsky winning this round. We have his forces on the run. Fragmented and disorganized. Hard to see them regrouping when we're constantly harrying them all the way. What's this now? I think this totals just over three hundred troops of his we've killed so far. Sure, when you've got a force of forty thousand that doesn't mean much, but it's more than I ever achieved in the last war. We're making progress."

He sighed, twirling his finger in the air as a signal for his squad to form back up on him, including Jack and her students, "Well, we stay here and we're just giving them an opportunity to launch a counterattack. The worst target is a mobile target. Let's keep moving," he turned to his krogan friend, "Grunt, take your men and form up on the flanks and the center. My squad will take point, while Aria takes the lead. Blood Pack and rachni, I want you infront of her...we cannot lose Aria or we'll lose our map."

He ignored Aria's obvious glare, the Omegan queen clearly not happy at being referred to as a map. In the end, that's really all she was. We're far from friends, Aria. If anyone else better than you had been trying to take Omega from Cerberus, I'd likely be backing them instead. Consider yourself lucky you're all I've got.

Just as he was ready to give the order to move out, Keeling spoke up, the N7 arriving infront of him, "Sir, what about those hangar bays? You said we should torch them to keep Cerberus from using them."

Keeling's right, I did. And we do have the troops capable of pulling it off now. I'll send a detachment to deal with them.

He turned to EDI, the AI crouched next to the abandoned Thresher tank, scanning the area ahead of them for hostiles, "EDI, can you bring up a schematic of the station? What hangar bays are in this area?"

Without turning to them, she spoke, "Wait a moment. Establishing local connection to internal wireless network. Cerberus firewall protection is extremely robust: I will require assistance to breach the security."

Without needing to be asked, both Kasumi and Tali whipped out their omni-tools and got to work helping the AI, and EDI and Moses were no doubt already aiding each other. With the four of them combined, it wasn't long before EDI spoke once more, "Firewalls breached...searching for schematics. Located. Uploading to omni-tools now, Shepard."

True to her word, the squad's omni-tools pinged loudly as at least 4 terabytes worth of map data were uploaded to their microcomputers, Marcus opening his up and beginning to file through the necessary data.

"The nerve of this asshole!" Aria blurted out angrily, looking at her own copy of the schematics, "He's changed almost everything. He's organized the entire station into these...quadrants. Styx, Hudson, Rhine and Rubicon, with this 'Apex' in the middle, where Afterlife is. No doubt he's converted that area into a fortress. No way we'll breach it, even with our full strength."

"We are currently located in the Rubicon quadrant. According to this information, it is under the jurisdiction of one of Petrovsky's four colonels...Connor Amish," EDI declared, "Unfortunately, we were unable to access information pertaining to troop deployment or tactical data: there is an additional firewall that appears to possess encryption beyond that of Cerberus capabilities."

"It's definitely very well organized," Garrus admitted, "He knows if he controls the station by sectioning it off and giving control to four governors, he won't have to worry about severe micromanagement. From the looks of it, he's created a stable, sustained form of government. That's an alien concept for Omega."

"Got it," Marcus interrupted, quickly bringing up the information he wanted, "There are eleven hangar bays in the Rubicon quadrant alone. In total, that's about forty potential fighters, interceptors, bombers, shuttles and gunships he's got holed up. It's not much, but he'll feel it," he sighed, turning back to his force, trying to decide who best to assign to the task.

Apparently, Grunt was already way ahead of him, turning to his men, "I know just the men for the task. 21st Maw company, we call them. They have an affinity for blowing shit up, which is why we've called them our official..." he slammed a fist into his chest, a symbol of krogan pride, "...demolition team. They'll take care of those hangar bays for us."

A company of ninety krogan stepped forward, each carrying an assortment of explosives and heavy weapons such as M-451 Firestorm flamethrowers, ML-77 Dory missile launchers, M-100 Spiculum grenade launchers and, to Marcus' surprise, one was even carrying an M-920 Cain mini-nuke launcher. All in all, they were lethal looking krogan, and if Grunt had faith in them to get the job done, that was enough for Marcus.

Before he could order her to do so, EDI had already uploaded a copy of the schematics to the krogan company, their own omni-tools pinging loudly. The leader of the 21st Maw, a green armoured krogan in the same A1S medium combat armor that Wrex wore, stepped forward, wielding two missile launchers in his hands, "We'll literally torch those hangars, believe me. Those aircraft will be so torched, Cerberus won't even recognize them."

Marcus grinned at that, giving the krogan commander a simple nod, "Then get to it, Lord Companier."

There wasn't a single word spoken by them following. Like a landslide detaching from the side of a mountain, ninety of the eight hundred strong 1st Aralakh departed back in the direction they came, disappearing around the corner within minutes. All that could be heard afterwards was the stomps of their jogging, and the clatter of their weapons, all of which eventually dissipated after a few minutes. By that time, the rest were already pressing forward, towards Tuhi and Aria's bunker.

They had travelled another six hundred meters, leaving the battle site well behind, when the comms crackled to life, a familiar yet barely heard voice sounding through, "This is Sata T'Loak to all OLF ground forces, please respond. We are currently advancing along Nelius Street, converging upon Delilah. If you can hear this, respond immediately."

Before Marcus could do anything, Aria had already responded, "Sata, this is Aria! We are advancing along Delilah street!" she quickly paused a moment to look at her omni-tool, double checking her data before finishing her response, "Nelius street is two blocks from our location. We should link up soon."

"Copy that, see you in a tick. Sata out."

"Damn it, Bray," Aria cursed, ignoring the look Marcus was giving her, "Told him to take command. Why the hell is Sata leading them?"

"Perhaps she knows how to lead," Marcus chimed in.

Aria scoffed at the notion, bearly affording him a glance, as if afraid it would give credence to his suggestion, "She's the equivalent of an embryo by asari standards."

That got Marcus interested, and he shared a look with Tali, now jogging beside him, who seemed equally shocked, but simply shrugged. Turning back, he gulped, licking his lips as he addressed the asari again, "Uh...just how old is Sata?"

Aria sighed, as if the question irritated her, "She's six years old, Shepard."

There was silence afterwards, Marcus soaking up the information with a somewhat awkward stride. Eventually, it was Liara who spoke up, the asari meekly adding her own two cents.

"Well...I certainly don't remember picking up a gun until I was 30," she stated, nodding her head awkwardly, "But...I guess I was...fully capable of...doing so...if I wanted..."

"Asari grow that quickly?" James piped up.

"Krogan take at least six years to even reach half her size," Grunt grumbled.

"In my cycle, it took an extra four years for them to reach her size," Javik jested, a smug grin on his face, "It appears the asari have at least evolved in that aspect."

"So asari grow quickly...who gives a fuck?" Aria spouted, obviously very bothered by this conversation, "I'm more concerned with her leading troops that I specifically told Bray to lead. Stupid brat never listens to me."

"Keelah, I certainly hope we never treat our children like that," Tali whispered over their private comm.

Marcus smiled, "Well, would you want our six year old kid leading teams of mercenaries in a military assault?"

"Point taken."

A minute or so later they arrived at Nelius street. Not a moment too soon either, as the form of an asari wielding an M-25 Hornet SMG arrived under the corner, leading at least ninety of Aria's personal mercenary forces, with the rest of the Blood Pack battalion, two Blue Suns battalions and two Eclipse battalions not far behind. He instantly recognized Dreg and Bray among them, with Ahz behind a large group of batarians. The group immediately raised their weapons at the group until recognizing who they were and lowering them, Sata motioning for Bray to instruct them to do so.

Angrily, Aria stormed up to Bray, getting right in his face, "I specifically remember putting you in charge, Bray. So why is it Sata seems to be speaking on your behalf and you're taking orders from her?"

The batarian shrugged, seeming almost entirely unbothered by the whole situation, "We ran into a few Cerberus squads. I wasn't a very good leader, she was. The decision was unanimous, Aria. She saved our asses."

"Don't be too angry, mother," Sata gleamed, amused by her maternal parent's anger, "I know me taking careful of myself makes you very upset, but it is nevertheless true. Don't give yourself an aneurism thinking about it."

"Get fucked, you stupid brat," Aria waved her off dismissively, annoyed by her daughter's actions but nonetheless undeterred by it, "You want to lead, fine. Just don't come crying for help if you're getting overwhelmed."

Sata just shrugged, "That's fine. I'm sure Captain Shepard will be far more accomodating."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Let's just get moving."

"Definitely not treating our kids like that," Tali once again joked.

"Point taken."

"A moment, captain," Sata requested, drawing the commander's attention, "We've noted some unusual Cerberus activity. Our last engagement with them...well, they didn't attack us directly. The only reason we came across them at all was because they were retreating in a direction we were headed in. In fact, every single Cerberus unit we've come across so far has been retreating. Not a single direct engagement."

A sigh, followed by Marcus turning to Aria with a raised eyebrow, "See what I mean? That company we fought was just a diversion. They were keeping us occupied while their forces regrouped. Petrovsky appears to have outwitted us."

"This gives us an advantage as much as it gives them one," Dreg pointed out, all of their attention now drawn to the krogan mercenary, "Without Cerberus to oppose us, we can reach the bunker without a problem. I say we use that."

The spectre found himself agreeing with Dreg, nodding in acknowledgement, "A good point. We should keep moving to Tuhi. First though, I'm going to contact General Zaal'Golo and see where they are at."

Wasting no time, he quickly established a line with the quarian/geth army, making sure the broadcast was clear, "General Golo, this is Captain Shepard. We've got everybody here except you and the rest of the rachni. What's your status?"

Thankfully, General Golo replied immediately, sounding entirely unbothered, "This is General Golo. All geth and quarian forces under my command are accounted for. The rachni have deployed the rest of their forces ahead of us and are clearing a path straight to the bunker. What's your location, over?"

"Delilah street, Zeta District, how about you?"

A sigh. "Afmer Avenue, Fulmuk District. We...might be a while. But from the looks of it, not as long as we thought. We have the Cerberus forces in complete retreat."

Marcus shook his head, soon coming to realize just how thorough Petrovsky's evacuation was, "No deed of ours unfortunately, General. Petrovsky kept us pinned while he evacuated his troops. You'll likely running into a delaying action soon enough. Find a way around it and link up with us. Do not attempt to engage the enemy forces! We need to reach the bunker ASAP," he turned to EDI and nodded, "You'll be getting schematics of the station soon enough. Should lead you straight to Tuhi. Good luck and hope to see you soon."

"Understood, captain. Ancestors watch over you," was the General's response before the line was cut.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's take advantage," Aria whipped out her shotgun, running into a jog, "Try to keep up, all of you!"

With Sata and her forces now at their side, the 8,700 strong force of krogan, rachni, mercenaries and Normandy crew quickly advanced down the street, their numbers making it so they stretched along the street in a long, angled column stretching over a kilometer. They jogged for what felt like hours, but in fact was only mere minutes, running down the same, featureless street of dull decking and intense, disgusting stenches. Aria led them of course, making sure they were actually going in the right direction: although, with the schematics of the station now in their possession, perhaps they didn't need her in that regard for much longer.

Finally, however, the group soon came across something truly unexpected.

Rounding the corner, Aria came to a complete stop, muttering under her breath, "What in the actual fuck..."

Marcus, frowning in response to her own confusion, picked up the pace, rushing ahead of his squad to see what the bafflement was all about.

Following her gaze, he found it two blocks away. Blocking off the rest of the street, reaching from the ground to the rooftops, was a massive, barely transparent field of bristling orange energy, its coverage covering each and every inch and connected to two large pylons on either side, which appeared to emit the field. With most of the skycars inactive and unusable, it was clear this was somekind of force field to keep the population segregated.

But why?

"Petrovsky really has been busy," Aria cursed, body rigid and shaking with irritation, "Why the hell wasn't this on the schematics? There wasn't any mention of a fucking force field."

"It's possible the information pertaining it was deliberately omitted to make it harder for invading forces or a civilian uprising to coordinate across the station. We also do not not know the extent of it. It's possible this force field is a singular entity, and it's also possible there are more like it all over Omega," EDI responded simply.

"Either way," Marcus piped up, shaking his head at it, "I don't want to risk finding out its capabilities. I say we find a way around."

The street looked otherwise empty. The force field stood in the middle of an empty area, its vigil uninterrupted or permeated with the presence of those who would wish to penetrate it. It simply sizzled away, crackling energy wrapped firmly between the two pylons powering it, daring those foolish enough to step through it. The technology also seemed suspiciously familiar, as had the technology behind those cannons...

Makes sense, too. Omega's right next door to the Omega 4 Relay. If they ever wanted quick access to pieces of remaining Collector technology left from the base, that'd be the way to do it. No doubt used it to create those particle cannons and to make these force fields. If so, there'll likely be both impenetrable and incapable of being disabled from this end.

Just before Marcus gave the order for his forces to withdraw and find a way around, Aria raised her finger, pointing at the forcefield, "Shepard, watch out! The fuckers are getting ballsy."

Marcus turned to see that Cerberus had indeed grown bold. From the other side, they could see the blurry outlines of a Cerberus squad jogging towards the barrier, a centurion in the lead with countless numbers of assault troopers behind him. At this flank, three on each side of him, were a type of enemy he had never seen before, but he was unable to be sure due to the barrier's borderline opaqueness, with their outlines blurred and rippling due to the energy in the force field constantly shifting.

They stopped just short of the barrier, simply staring at Marcus and his forces. He stared back, wondering what game they were playing just standing there.

What are they up to-?

Then, as if it had never been there, the forcefield simply disappeared, the pylons dimming significantly as the orange field evaporated, leaving nothing in the wake of it. The Cerberus squad charged forth, immediately opening fire on their enemy. The figures on the centurion's flank were revealed to actually be mechs. Heavily armoured LOKI looking mechs wielding M-22 Eviscerator shotguns and with tech armor active, the mechs stalked forward, glaring down at them with intense, glowing red optics that looked almost angry. They did not open fire, simply stalking forward slowly in a perfect line, moving towards them with a casual, almost predatory, walk.

Marcus ordered the rest of his forces to open fire. The Blood Pack squad immediately behind him didn't hesitate to charge past him, three krogan in the lead, close to sixteen vorcha behind them, hissing and howling. The combined gunfire of a dozen Blue Suns legionnaires and several Eclipse vanguards mowed down five of the assault troopers instantly, even giving the centurion pause. It appeared he was learning very quickly that he had made a huge mistake trying to confront 8,000 soldiers with a small squad, and began to back up as quickly as he deployed, ordering his troops to do the same.

Another assault trooper fell as one of the charging Blood Pack krogan blasted off his right leg, followed by his head being blown off by the vorcha behind him, wielding a Punisher SMG between its claws. The squad was decimated within seconds by the Blood Pack alone, with only a few vorcha falling to the gunfire of the centurion, making sure to shoot them in the heads so that the vorcha's regeneration couldn't kick in.

With the squad retreating, the centurion firing one final shot from his mattock at them before turning and running, all that was left was those...mechs.

Who simply stopped in place, unmoving, staring down the growling Blood Pack as they continued to run towards them, undeterred.

The three krogan infront charged at the mechs in single file, shouting triumphantly as their coming victory seemingly rushed towards them...

...then, with a grace seemingly only capable of phantoms or drell assassins. The six of them strafed out of the way of the krogan charge, allowing them to storm past uselessly. Turning back, one mech raised its shotgun and blew the head off one of the vorcha soldiers, head reduced to a bloody stump of flesh and bone, their hissing cut short as red blood permeated their introduction to the cold, hard deck.

Another mech drew an omni-blade and decapitated one vorcha, before slicing up another up along its chest in an uppercut, causing its guts to spill out of its chest and collapse forward, its loud shrieks turning to a low, dormant growl. The third vorcha's arm was blown off trying to claw at the mech, who then pinned its shotgun under the vorcha's jaw and blew its head off.

"Return to your homes immediately," one mech ordered, firing into another vorcha, taking six shells before finally putting it down. Its voice was far more electronic than even the Cerberus troopers' voice modulators, sounding more akin to a geth than its LOKI counterpart, "You will not be asked again."

He frowned at that, despite him raising his rifle in preparation to open fire on the mechs who were so methodically tearing apart the Blood Pack boom squad. Must be used for law enforcement. For mechs, they're awfully good at hand-to-hand. And they look like the standard LOKI. Possible that Cerberus simply upgraded them for use as a police force. Smart.

Having successfully slaughtered all sixteen of the vorcha, their corpses littered across the deck and bloodying the deck with a river of crimson, the six mechs returned to their original formation, twisting on the spot to face the three krogan they had neglected to address...

...something they soon regretted. One mech was tackled to the ground, while another's head was shredded by dozens of bullets poured into it by a second krogan's M-9 Usurper assault rifle. The third used an omni-bow to stagger another mech, before flash forging it into an omni-blade, ramming it up through the side of the mech's head, causing it to cease all movement instantly, dropping its shotgun uselessly to the ground.

Marcus lowered his rifle, realizing the three krogan seemed to have it in the bag. Garrus positioned his sniper rifle and fired, the report of it echoing across the street as the high velocity round slammed through the optics of the fourth mech, downing it instantly and sending it flying dead onto its back with a clang, shotgun still clamped between its steel, mechanized fingers.

The krogan that had tackled one of the mechs to the floor continually bashed its fists into the sides of the mech's head, who stuttered and coughed as it tried to speak, its words coming out jarbled as its voice box was subjected to constantly escalating damage. In a last attempt to save itself, it rammed its omni-blade into the krogan's side, right into his belly. This only enraged the krogan, who stopped his bashing to reach under the mech's head, tearing upwards until the head was ripped free, circuits sparking and spitting as they were forcefully disconnected from their respective nodes in the mech's skull. He slammed the head into the ground, irreversibly denting it inwards and crushing the machinery inside, before letting go, ripping the mech's arm out of its socket and tossing it away, orange blood leaking from his side where the gaping wound had been created.

The two remaining mechs fired their shotguns into the krogan's back, who cried as the shells penetrated his shields and slammed into his back, tearing through his armor and piercing flesh. This still didn't put the krogan down, who slapped his hand down on the destroyed mech's shotgun, picking it up, whirling around and firing three shots into the nearest mech, watching as its tech armor exploded violently. The EMP blast caused the shotgun to jam up, so he tossed it aside and charged the mech. The mech danced out of the way, but having learnt from last time, the krogan reached out, grabbing the mech as he went past and dragging it with, feet leaving the ground.

Within several moments, the three Blood Pack krogan had destroyed the six mechs, despite said mechs having wiped out their squad. Marcus ordered a ceasefire as they watched the centurion and the four remaining assault troopers retreat towards the forcefield, eager to get back behind it before the three angry krogan caught up.

The injured krogan, along with his two comrades, turned at the sound of their footsteps, and in their blood rage, disregarded all sense of thought and reasoning: they charged after them. But Marcus knew even from his distance that the krogan wouldn't reach the retreating soldiers before they passed that barrier.

But it was too late to stop them. Marcus watched from a distance as the surviving soldiers successfully ran past the line of the field, which activated a mere second later, the orange field springing back to life and reengaging the divide it forcefully forged. The three krogan were unable to halt their momentum however, and with their blood rage in full beast mode, they could only howl and growl in fury as they reached the field.

First, he heard the screams. He winced at the sound of them, realizing that even krogan could scream in agony, and that the sound itself is mind-piercingly shattering, wracking his eardrums and echoing within his mental sphere. His squad seemed to wince at the sound too, with even Aria looking sympathetic at what they saw.

The krogan screams continued as the three krogan steamrollers became the victim of steamrolling, their contact with the field proving to be lethal. They moment they touched it, their skin had immediately begun to peel back and blacken. Fire sparked along their bodies, licking up their forms and drenching them in soaring flame, their skin continue to peel and smolder, eyes popping and blood boiling them alive from the inside.

And all of that happened in three seconds.

It was over so quickly. One moment, they were on fire, screaming and burning away. The next moment, they had broken down into ashes, three neat piles lined up next to the field, smoke trailing up from them as the krogan were essentially cremated via their impact with the forcefield. All it took was those three, harrowing seconds.

"Poor idiots," Aria mumbled.

Behind the field, the forms of the surviving Cerberus troopers got smaller and less distinct as they continued their retreat, knowing their barrier would keep the UGC from pursuing them.

Grunt arrived on Marcus' right, echoing the thoughts of everyone in their company, "Something tells me this force field isn't the only one on the station. If this General was clever, he'd have these damn things spread all over the place...effective crowd control."

"Agreed," Sata acknowledged, coming to stand next to the krogan supersoldier, "And it doesn't look like they're always active either. Their ability to switch them on and off at their own leisure gives them a significant advantage. With these, they could split our forces in two at any time...cut us off from each other. Divide and conquer."

"Shit, you're right," Marcus admitted, quickly contacting General Golo, finding himself, thankfully, getting a stable connection fast, "General, this is Shepard. Have you encountered any force fields yet?"

"Yes, but we found a way around it," Golo replied, "It's likely going to make our trip slightly longer, but we're getting there. Why, similar encounter?"

"You could say that..." a brief glance at the ash piles spoke volumes more than what words could ever describe, "Just make sure to get to Tuhi and keep me updated of any further developments. Shepard out." More aggressively than usual, he clapped the comm on the side of his helmet to turn it off.

Aria did not fail to notice the motion, "Frustrated, Shepard? Welcome to the club."

He glared at her, waving a dismissive hand, "You're damn right I'm pissed, Aria. We're being yanked around by these assholes. Every street seems to have a death trap waiting for us. An entrenched Cerberus company and now a force field that vaporizes people when you touch it. What's next? Maybe a machine gun test with bullets that indoctrinate on contact? Maybe a Reaper army?"

"That's a bit far fetched, Marcus," Kaidan jested.

He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head as his hands landed on his hips in irritation, rifle magnetically attached to his hip, "We've fought a giant Reaper shaped in the form of a human, Kaidan. We've seen a giant thresher maw that krogan worship as a god. I'm at the point where a husk wanting to defect or the Illusive Man revealing that he just wanted to turn Omega into a glorified, military circus wouldn't even faze me."

"That's imaginative and all, but that doesn't really help us," Bray sarcastically stated, waving annoyingly at the field, "There has to be a way around this field. The General can't have been that methodical. He's only had seven months on this station."

"Then perhaps we can help each other out."

Every single one of Aria's men, aside from Sata, raised their weapons at once, taking aim directly at the hooded figure of a female turian that had suddenly appeared near them. Their voice was distinctively feminine, despite the flang that was existent in all turian voices. Marcus and his squad turned to them without raising a single weapon, with even Aria lowering her shotgun after a moment. Behind the figure were two injured humans and two turians in battle armor, all of it scarred and potmarked with scrapes and bullet holes. They raised their weapons as well, while the hooded figure didn't move an inch to draw their own.

Marcus had no idea who the person infront of them was, but it appeared Aria did, as a range of emotions, with mixes of shock and anger, flashed across the asari's features in that moment, "Nyreen? What the shit?"

"Glad to see you recognize me," the turian reached back and pulled down their hood, revealing their red facepainted expression, eyes locking onto Marcus before giving a brief nod, stare quickly returning to Aria, "Although, I guess I should be surprised you did at all. Its been a long time, Aria."

Holstering her shotgun, Aria sneered at the turian, storming up to her and pointing a finger in her face. To Nyreen's credit, she barely flinched, staring the asari force of nature down like she was used to being in such a compromising position, "Five fucking years, Nyreen. What the hell are you doing here?"

Nyreen shrugged, motioning for the men behind her to lower their weapons. They did so immediately, seeming to be under her command. Marcus signalled for Bray and the others to reciprocate, and they soon followed suit, "Playing cat and mouse, mostly. Just trying to stay alive. If it wasn't for those tunnels..." her mandibles split into the turian equivalent of a grin, crossing her arms, "...well, you did me a solid there, Aria. You've really helped our war effort here on Omega. Not to mention that your...unexpected return has certainly raised a few eyebrows, mine especially. I thought the UGC had forgotten about us. You were always going to return Aria, but I never thought you'd bring them with you."

Aria shook her head, stepping back after a moment, "I pulled some favours," she turned to Marcus, motioning him forward. Walking forward cautiously, he stopped beside the asari, who Nyreen turned to, eyes running a line up and down his form, appraising him, "This is Captain Shepard, the man of the hour. He's the one I've enlisted to help me lead this campaign. We're retaking Omega, Nyreen."

The turian chuckled, "I didn't think you were here to give him the grand tour, Aria: your intentions are plain. My job is to assess whether Omega wants you back."

Aria crossed her arms, glaring at the turian uncompromisingly, the two of them seeming to forget about Shepard almost instantly, "That's hilarious, Nyreen. You disappeared. Left the station. Why did you come back?"

"Truth is...I never left," the turian admitted, "I wanted to disappear, so I did. But I wasn't going to let you continue to exploit and hurt the innocent. Your little dirty bomb reminded me of what you really are. Good thing I stayed too...when Petrovsky chased you off the station, I was the only leadership left willing to stop Cerberus. I've been leading our guerilla war against them for seven months while you...did what you did. I have to admit, it wasn't one we were winning. Not until you showed up, anyway."

Marcus finally chimed into the question, raising his voice to gain Nyreen's attention, "So you must be a member of this rebellion we've heard about."

Nyreen nodded, "We're called the Talons. And I'm not just a member...I'm their leader. These men respect me and I've turned them into a respectable fighting force. They're no longer the drug-running scum they used to be. Now they're actually reliable. I trust my life in the hands of these men."

"The Talons?" Garrus spoke up from behind them, "I've heard of them before. They were the biggest players on Omega, second only to Aria. If anyone could have usurped her, it was them. Fighting for the little people and waging guerilla warfare doesn't seem like their usual MO. Where is Derius, may I ask? My old squad owed him several bullets to the skull."

Nyreen laughed, rubbing her neck, "Sorry to say I beat them to the punch. Derius was a piece of shit who was never going to change. I killed him and took over just before the Cerberus occupation. Well timed, actually. Gave me time to reshape the Talons and use them for good. I was planning on turning them into a police force...but Cerberus changed all of that."

"Police? On Omega? On my station?" Aria emphasized cynically, giggling a little to herself at the prospect, "Oh, Nyreen. You're just as naive as when we last saw each other. Ever the idealist. You and Shepard will make great friends."

Nyreen shook her head, disappointed with the asari but nonetheless unbothered by her antics, "Hate to remind you Aria, but this isn't your station anymore. Petrovsky is the boss around here, and he appears to be a far better ruler than you ever were. It's...actually a shame that I'm fighting to take him down. If he weren't Cerberus, I'd be almost content with him ruling this place."

"Why's that?" Marcus asked, eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

"You've probably heard all the propaganda about relief shelters and how Talons who give themselves up will get clemency and be allowed to return to everyday life as a civilian," Nyreen stated, earning a nod from both himself and Aria. She sighed, "That's the thing: it's not propaganda. I've seen these shelters for myself. I've had reports of Talons who I've recruited that had second thoughts and gave themselves up...so far, Petrovsky's stayed true to his word. Every soldier who's given himself up was shown mercy, and the Cerberus fleet was ferrying in fresh food and supplies on a constant basis. The people of Omega were being treated well. I think that's why the riots stopped. Nobody but the Talons were even fighting anymore."

"Sounds like your kind of man, Nyreen," Aria poked sarcastically, "Loves civilians, has a moral compass that often makes him an pretentiously arrogant boy scout...I'm surprised you haven't practically married each other. Why fight him if your morals are so perfectly fucking aligned?"

The turian motioned at her, "Roughly the same reason the UGC is here. Cerberus can't be allowed to have this station, and Petrovsky practically bleeds white and gold. I have to remind myself that he wears that horrific golden hexagon everyday so that I know who we're fighting. Helps to remind me that the Talons aren't the bad guys, even though shades of grey paint the walls everywhere. It is egregiously difficult to keep fighting an enemy that you morally agree with. That's what these seven months have been like...moral hell."

"Enough of the small talk," Aria spat, waving a hand at the forcefield ahead of them, "You said you could help us get around this barrier. How exactly do you propose doing that?"

"Simple," the turian responded, pointing to an alleyway on her right, "That's the route I took...goes right around the forcefield and straight to the Tuhi district. I could lead you there, if you want. There's a Cerberus regiment forming up a defensive line nearby, but the direction we're going isn't anywhere near them, so we should be safe."

"Wait, how did you know where we were going?" Aria asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes, "Have you been following us?"

"Along the rooftops, yes. Had to be sure of your intentions. I'm still not sure you're what's good for Omega, but I can't exactly afford to turn away a powerful ally...especially when our fight has been doing ever so poorly. You're a welcome boon. I don't trust you, but I trust that Shepard wouldn't be here unless it was absolutely necessary, so that'll have to do. Now, I'm offering you help...do you want it or not?"

Aria sighed, shaking her head as she turned to Marcus, rubbing her temples, "What do you say, Shepard? Trust her or not?"

"Well, she isn't wearing white and gold armor and I can't exactly say I've seen or heard of aliens joining Cerberus," he shrugged, grabbing his rifle and letting it collapse into his hands. He turned to Nyreen, nodding, "So...lead the way."

The turian nodded to him, unholstering the Pugio III heavy pistol at her hip and checking to make sure it was loaded before turning to leave...

...only for a bundle of blue to suddenly wrap their arms around the turian, hugging them tightly. Marcus, confused, turned to see Aria hadn't moved an inch, simply turning away and looking decidedly embarassed.

Nyreen was much more welcoming, twisting in the asari's grip to wrap her own arms around her, returning the embrace, "Good to see you too, kid."

Sata eventually pulled away, wiping her eyes of the tears forming there, "Mum said you left us. That you abandoned us. Why did you leave?"

Nyreen spared Aria a glance, but she refused to return it, giving the turian female no choice but to turn back, mandibles twitching as she thought of a response. Eventually, she simply lightly tapped Sata's shoulder, shaking her head, "It...your mother and I had a falling out. She did some things I found morally questionable. I couldn't be with her anymore. It wasn't you, it was me and her. All you need to know is that I've never stopped loving you...you're still my kid, Sata. I'm still your father."

This caused Marcus' eyes to widen, looking between Aria and Nyreen repeatedly, before finally landing on Sata herself, who did not notice his look.

Wait, Nyreen and Aria were...more than friends? Nyreen's the mate Aria was referring to?

"I know, dad. Somehow, I knew," Sata sighed, unholstering her SMG, "It's...great to see you again. We'll have to talk some more after all this is over."

Nyreen laughed, rubbing the top of the asari's head playfully, "Sure will, Sata. I imagine your mother has gotten up to a ton of mischief since I've been gone. You'll have to tell me all about i-"

"I love reunions. I really do," Aria spoke up, making herself loud enough to be heard over both of them, drawing both of their attention. Gripping her shotgun, she walked towards them, brushing through the middle and walking towards the alley with an almost angered stomp in her step, "But we're in the middle of a fucking warzone. So unless you want to all die, let's leave the reunions 'till later and get to my fucking bunker while Petrovsky is still unaware it exists."

"Right. Exactly," Nyreen cleared her throat awkwardly, turning to her own men and directing them forward to join Aria before turning to the rest of them, "Well...uh...follow me."

Marcus just smirked, turning to Tali and wiggling his eyebrows, "What an interesting family. A turian rebel, an asari queen and a guntoting six-year old daughter. Maybe our son can be a geth?"

He could practically hear the quarian rolling her eyes, "Keelah...let's not. And you better not leave me to go start a rebellion against the Council on the Citadel because I will be greatly displeased."

"Who? Me?" he pointed at himself comedically, "Oh...I would never."

"I can hear...Every. Fucking. Word," Aria growled.

Realizing they hadn't switched to their private comm, the two of them acted like nothing happened, awkwardly gripping their weapons and aiming them forward as they followed Nyreen towards the alleyway.

When noone was looking, Tali switched to their private comm, "Idiot! They heard all of that!"

"I'm sorry-"

"Every. Single. Word."

"I know!"

"Imbecile!"

"I know!"

"Idiotic bosh'tet!"

"I get it!"

They argued all the way up down the alleyway...this time without anyone else hearing them.

A/N:

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Finished ME:A on Thursday, and I have to say I really liked it. Ending was epic, and I love the squad roster with the exception of Liam and Cora. Before anyone asks, I romanced Vetra and regret nothing. Just wished there would be a better romance scene for her. So far, if this series becomes another continuous saga, Vetra seems set to be the next Tali!

Until next time,

Keelah Re'lai, troopers!