HOLOCAUST

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE:

TEAM OMEGA

August 6, 2186

0823 hours.

Room A1, Building Block L, Eastern Esplanade, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega.

Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District.

Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Randall Ezno, Agent Kai Leng.

If somone could get into a situation that was utterly, completely, royally and totally fucked beyond repair, one where the only hope of escape was pure luck, where the only remedy was to hope they could work their way out of it, where the only possible outcome was hopefully a quick, but honourable, death...

It all boiled down to just that. Hope. Something he was in frighteningly short supply at that moment.

He reworked the events that had lead up to this moment...he retraced every step, looking for the exact time it all went wrong. That it clicked in his head that he wanted to drop everything and kill Leng, damn the consequences. It wasn't hard to find that exact point in time, before it hadn't been too long ago. Leng took a swipe at Jack, Marcus charged and fought him, and then was stupid enough to let his anger overcome him enough to actually chase the assassin.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

In reality, nobody was at fault but him for this potentially lethal tactical error. He hadn't thought it through, hadn't even bothered to view all the options...no doubt if he had just applied enough firepower to the assassin's back he would have been able to gun down the former N7, allowing him to deal with Randall individually. He would still be on the battlefield, leading his troops to victory, his squad surrounding him and at his side.

But now he was all alone. And literally surrounded by enemies, with no allies.

It was a derailed freight train of fuckups. He had unwittingly fallen into the Cerberus trap, and now both assassin and manhunter had their public enemy number one cornered and unable to cry for help. It was just him against two similarly augmented, skilled individuals. Of course, that didn't mean Marcus was going to just bend over and die. Far from it. He was going to make them fight for every blow, for every drop of blood, for every second that death approached.

He grunted as he raised his right arm, just narrowly knocking aside a strike from Randall meant for his face. At the same time, he lashed out with his left, only for Leng to dart back, avoiding the attack. Luckily, the attack hadn't meant to maim, only to create distance. Turning back to Randall, he applied whatever force he could to his right arm, using it to shove Randall aside. With distance now between them, Marcus stood up from the crouched position he was in, spinning back around, fists raised, as he stood in a battle stance. He inhaled a deep breath, before exhaling it, eyes darting back and forth in repetitive motions to make sure neither of them got the jump on him.

The headache he was suffering was intense. With Randall's biotic inhibitor still doing its work, the L3 biotic implant in his brain was unable to stimulate the element zero in his system enough to allow him to summon his biotic abilities: without them, and without his weapons, he was forced to do it the old fashioned way: bloody feet and bruised knuckles. The headache caused by the inhibitor no longer had the crippling affect it had on him back on Rannoch, as Marcus had time with EDI and Moses to condition himself against it. So while he was unable to escape the headache, bordering on migraine, that resulted from the inhibitor's use, he could at least focus past it to survive his predicament.

They had been battling for several minutes now, and Marcus felt his shoulders heaving with the effort. With normal troopers, he'd have no effort dispatching them with ease: after all, he was an N7, and special forces operators were the most lethal when it came to hand-to-hand. Unfortunately, so was Leng, and Randall's cybernetics only enhanced his already competent aikido martial knowledge. Still, it was a miracle he had survived this long, trading them blow for blow, never taking his eye off either of them, although they were making that increasingly difficult with each successful blow.

In the minutes that passed, they had lost more and more. Leng had used somekind of overload program on his wrist to render Marcus' omni-tool inactive, and Randall had torn weapons off the N7's back as they fought, leaving his pulse rifle, SMG, pistol and shotgun scattered across the dusty floor. Even his helmet was now tossed uselessly on the ground, torn away from him during their scuffle, although Marcus made sure to tear off Randall's too to make it even.

Numerous cuts aligned Marcus' face: one across the cheek, across the forehead, one that narrowly missed his left eyeball and scrapped across the eyebrow instead, one that sliced his upper lip open, and a particularly close one across the scalp. Each one had bled, and each one had left its mark: some of it had crusted, some if it still oozed out and others were still glistening, some of it running down his face as it mixed in with his sweat. He blinked as some of it got into his eye, but he made sure to deal with it as quickly as possible.

Randall and Leng had their fair share too. Marcus had actually delivered one hell of a haymaker to Leng's jaw, knocking some of his teeth out in the process. It was one Marcus had taken great pleasure in, although the manhunter had made sure he didn't get to celebrate the strike for very long. Earlier in the fight, Marcus had strafed aside from a sword lunge, instead hitting Randall. The manhunter strafed as well, but not before it struck him in the side. It had pierced skin, but not deep enough to severely wound the soldier, and he was back up in a flash, quickly applying medi-gel to the wound before leaping back to the one-sided battle.

And so here they were: each in an arrow like formation that entirely dissimilar to a Mexican stand off.

Randall silently appraised the N7 to his right, his own hands raised upwards to protect his face, sweat coating his own face. Leng twirled ninjato in his hands, showing off as blood flicked through the air, slapping Marcus in the face. He briefly flinched from it, but the movement was enough for Leng to chuckle, before holding the sword firmly, grin tightening as he sighed happily, sniffing. He coughed, before leaning down and making a loud, wet coughing sound, spitting a large glob of mucus and blood onto the floor. He sighed, sounding like a man struck with a cold rather than someone who had a few molars knocked out, the assassin wiping his lips off-handedly as he turned back to Marcus, shaking his head.

There was silence for a few seconds. The only sounds they could hear was the occassional bout of gunfire and shouts outside, coupled with the report of an artillery piece, the screech of a passing fighter or explosion. Marcus took note of the distinct and deteriorating presence of electronic shouting amongst those sounds, and he turned to the both of them, shrugging almost innocently, "Sounds a whole lot like losing out there. My men will be clearing up yours shortly."

Randall made no sound, but Leng was quick to rise to Marcus' bait, raising his sword and pointing it lazily at the captain, "That won't matter once we string up your corpse at the top of his building for all to see. Then we will see who has lost."

He narrowed his eyes at Leng, glaring him down, "Or maybe I'll be the one who strings yours up there. You never know."

Leng looked set to respond when Randall finally spoke up, "Threats exchanged with a soon-to-be ghost are as pointless as they are a waste of breath. Silence yourself Leng and entertain Shepard no more."

The assassin briefly turned to the manhunter in protest. Before he could though, he cut himself off, closing his mouth as his head drifted back to looking at Marcus. He lowered his sword as he did this, readying it for combat, "You are right. Dead men tell no tales."

"I was just thinking the same thing," he snapped back, giving as good as he got in their game of threats, "You know, this reminds me of a battle I had with a badass special forces officer a few years back."

The assassin frowned, confused, "Flattery will not save you."

Hook, line and sinker. Two can play the taunt game. He chuckled, "You? I said a badass. Not some assassin whining like some quarian with a tummy ache. No, if anything, you remind me of a vorcha: all meat and no brain."

Leng snarled, gritting his teeth angrily as he tensed up, "I've had enough of this. Let's kill this fucking prick so I can piss on his corpse already."

He turned to the assassin one final time, knowing what was coming next and tensing himself up in preparation. But he just had to get one last jab in, "Once again, Leng," he made sure he had the biggest shiteating grin imaginable, not wanting the assassin to miss one bit, "Just what I was thinking. Tell me, would you like human or alien piss?"

He had not seen Randall slowly moving to the right until he made his move. Marcus twisted his head just as his fist swung towards him, luckily swiping through air. Head ducked, he had a perfect view of the manhunter's abdomen for a split second, sending an uppercut slamming into his chest. Ezno seemed to shrug that off, because although he was winded by it, he quickly recovered, usually his other hand to crack Marcus across the face. The N7 spun back from the blow, vision blurring for a moment, before he regained composure, twisted and turned to face a rapidly descending, feral Leng.

Using the limited range that his sword offered him, Leng poked the ninjato forward, extending it outwards as it tried to kiss human skin. Marcus knocked it to the side with one armoured arm, realizing in that instant that it had been a faint. Twisting with his sword's deflection, the assassin spun around, both hands gripping the blade handle tightly, as he aimed directly for Marcus' now exposed neck.

Not knowing how else to stop this sudden movement, his left hand snapped up and clasped around the blade, grasping it firmly to the point where Leng, despite putting all his strength into it, was unable to make the sword move any further. Taking the assassin's imbalance to his advantage, he yanked the sword towards him, hoping to get him close enough for a headbutt. Leng learned quick though, and he quickly surrendered his sword, releasing the hilt the moment Marcus began yanking, and raised his palm, energy brimming within the cannon there.

He had mere seconds to duck out of the way. He reared his head back, doing so just as he felt, and saw, a sizzling bolt of white hot energy blaze past his face. The bolt had been close enough for him to feel the heat: it felt like the steam of boiling water slamming into his face, multiplied by 10. It was close enough to be blinding for a moment, rendering him unable to see for that fleeting point in time. It singed the hairs on his regulation beard, and made him wince from the sheer intensity of it.

It all lasted a second. The bolt shot by, missing by inches, crackling as it slammed into the wall behind them harmlessly.

As Marcus regained his balance, he felt a foot connect with his belly, roughly and with heavy constitution. He felt himself immediately knocked back, winded by the blow and stumbling. He darted his left foot out, causing him to stop and stabilizing his body before it lost balance. Breathing harshly to gain what breath he lost, he looked up to see Randall raising his other leg to deliver a kick to his face.

Lightning fast, he raised both of his arms and locked them tightly into an x-like shape infront of him, protecting his face, but also allowing him to catch Randall's foot as it connected with the two arms. Once there, he condensed his arms inwards, locking the man's foot in place momentarily, and leaving him impotent. With the two hands at the top, he wrapped them under the man's shin and as he stood up, pulled the two arms upwards quickly and with little effort.

Randall saw what was coming and planned accordingly, as had Leng. His leg swept off the ground, he brought his other leg up to join it before rolling himself in mid air, twisting his entire torso to compensate. He landed on his front with a loud grunt, arms positioned infront of him to protect his own face from ricocheting off the floor. And while Marcus was focused on him, Leng was free to renew his attack.

The spectre made little sound as he felt Leng slam a foot into the back of his left leg, causing him to fall forwards. He landed on one knee, but couldn't turn around quick enough before Leng punched him in the face, followed by another. Both strikes came so quickly that Marcus had been helpless to respond, and he felt dizzied by the blows, before his cybernetics quickly recovered. Before he could counterattack however, he quickly felt one of Leng's arms wrap around his neck from behind, roughly pulling him up as he did so. Marcus, now standing on his feet, could do nothing as the assassin tightened his headlock, other hand grabbing Marcus' short hair on his scalp tightly to ensure he couldn't headbutt him. Unable to see Leng's face, Marcus could only assume he was smiling at his apparent conquest.

The Cerberus servant's headlock was just tight enough to ensure even the N7 couldn't escape, while also allowing Marcus to breathe sufficiently. He knew why the assassin was doing this even before Randall came to his feet, dusted himself off and began to rapidly approach the retrained commando, his face carrying a distinct lack of self-congratulatory demeanour that Leng was brimming with.

He heard a pistol being unholstered, and he looked down to see the approaching manhunter pulling out his modified Phalanx pistol, its polished surface gleaming in the dim light of the room. Silence once again befell the room as their skirmish ended, the sounds of the battlefield nearby beginning to mute themselves as their volume cascaded away, the battle taken elsewhere.

I hope Tali's alright. I hope everybody's kicking their asses back to Afterlife. And I hope Petrovsky can see it all.

In the instant that he had to live, he quickly ran through his options. Headbutting Leng was out of the question, as the assassin had his head held firmly and didn't look set to budge anytime soon. Kicking Randall was useless, as the operative would see it coming and simply deflect it. He couldn't use his biotics because of the inhibitor, and his omni-tool was inactive, so he couldn't use his omni-blade or omni-shield. So in the end, he knew he only really had one option. He knew what caliber rounds the Phalanx used, and where exactly on his body had the lowest point of penetration resistance.

Going to have to John McClane this one...fuck, this is going to hurt...

Randall raised his weapon, taking aim directly at Marcus' forehead. He felt the cold barrel of the weapon press itself against the naked skin of his temple, the feel of it not an unfamiliar feeling for somebody of the Spectre's profession. Randall didn't say a word, but he did begin to tighten the trigger.

"Wait," Marcus croaked, doing his best to look the part of somebody who was battered and broken. Slackening his body and letting his eyes droop, he gulped, "The heart. Aim for the heart. If you're going to kill me, shoot me there. I don't want my pretty face ruined for the funeral." You're a real joker, you know that Marcus? Fucking hilarious.

Randall seemed to regard him for a moment, frowning at the man who was seconds away from death. It was the look of somebody was just honestly befuddled at this soldier who the galaxy held in high esteem: a man who, in the face of death, was more worried about dying pretty than he was actually living. His eyes narrowed, trying to gauge the angle he was playing. For a moment, Marcus didn't think the manhunter would fall for it: his finger never loosened, his composure remained static...

Shit. Well, it was worth a-

But whether through sheer dumb luck, or unbelievable miracle, Randall actually fullfilled his request: the pistol was lowered away from his head, now pressing into the unfeeling, metal exterior of his battle armor, right where the heart was located. Randall looked at Marcus, shaking his head, "You fought well Shepard, but now your time is up."

"Sure is," and without so much as telegraphing his intention, and watching Randall's finger tighten, he snapped up his right arm, hand grabbing the pistol by the handle. Roughly pulling it up so it was level with his shoulder, Marcus didn't wait for either Leng or Randall to react: he just did.

Finger joining the manhunter's on the weapon's trigger, he pulled down hard.

He cried out as it felt like he had been slammed in the shoulder blade with a mallet: except this mallet also tore through said shoulder, slicing through flesh, before erupting out the other side, ignoring his armor, and smashing through bone. He fell to one knee again as his left shoulder flared up with pain, finding himself unable to even move that arm anymore: he could, but it only brought him immense agony. Luckily, his plan had worked: the Phalanx round had penetrated his shoulder, where the flesh was weakest, allowing it to continue with enough momentum to leave through his back, and hit Leng in his own shoulder.

Taken by surprise, the assassin released his headlock immediately as the round meant to kill Marcus bit into his shoulder, this time not having enough momentum to penetrate all the way through and stopping in Leng's shoulder blade. He stumbled back, hissing angrily as his own left arm became unusable, hand dropping his sword as he cradled the maimed appendage.

Marcus ignored the discomfort his crippled left arm gave him as he leapt back up, transporting a swift uppercut to the bottom of Randall's jaw. The manhunter stepped back, but not before Marcus' fist clipped the side of his chin, causing him to stumble back even further anyway. With Leng still temporarily out of the fight, the N7 pressed his offensive, next bringing up his right leg in a crescent kick. The sweeping maneveur connected with the man's equipped right arm, swatting it aside and causing him to let go of the phalanx in the process, which slid away from them, sliding under the desk in the corner with the vidscreen on it.

Blood was beginning to exude from his shoulder now, dripping down the side of his armor and dripping onto the deck. The color mixed in well with the crimson paint of his Terminus Assault battle arrangement, but made its presence well known on the floor. Leng was likely no different.

Hearing the sound of a sword being picked up behind him, Marcus rotated right side first, bringing up his elbow to form an L-shaped block. His sweeping 'shield-like' block allowed him to swat aside the lunging blade, which had been so close to impaling him in the back. Having wielded it with his right hand, due to the left hanging uselessly at his side, the assassin was caught off balance, allowing Marcus to deliver a powerful kick to the abdomen. He keeled over from it, Leng's breath blown out in a loud wave before the N7 once again pressed the attack, giving him no room to defend himself any further.

I will end you, right here, right now!

But Leng was ready. In a surprising bout of bravado and possibly stupidity, the assassin countered the man's offensive by actually lunging forward to meet it mid stride, right fist springing forwards to connect, very deliberately, into the open bullet wound that had disabled Marcus' left shoulder. The human commando cried out as the strike caused the wound to hurt a hundred times worse, leading him to founder back. Not one to let go of a moment, Kai Leng howled furiously as he sent his head spiralling forward to meet that of the captain's like a torpedo.

It connected, and Marcus was left even more disoriented as the pain of his provoked arm and the bruised torment of two, thick skulls colliding caused him to lose all sense of reality at once. He was therefore defenseless as he felt the assassin snake one arm around his right arm, grabbing a firm hold of his waist. The N7, by the time he finally gained his bearings, didn't figure out what he was doing until he was already airborne.

Leng had wrapped his arm around the back of Marcus' body, grabbing hold of the back of his waist before physically lifting him up off the floor. Twisting his body, he then swung the man up into the air like a Baseball pitcher. The man's cybernetic strength meant Marcus was accelerated threw the air just like a baseball, his back slamming into the vidscreen a few meters away. He grunted as he felt the impact on his back, the screen of the TV cracking in large shards, but not breaking. It also fell back onto the desk, while Marcus fell into the desk, his enormous waste causing the wooden surface to splinter and break, caving inwards as the human thudded to the floor, dust sent flying in large plumes from his microbic atomic impact.

He coughed as some of it got up into his mouth and nose, the feeling making his throat instantly itch and causing him to sputter. With Leng advancing, Marcus pushed him up, shoving aside the pieces of broken wood that had collected ontop of him from the crushed desk. The disturbance caused the vidscreen to fall behind the desk entirely, glass screen completely shattering out of sight. It was then he remembered where Randall's pistol had fallen.

Turning from sluggish to as quick as thunder, he shot his maimed hand under the desk, ignoring the pleading of his mind to stop abusing his body as he felt around for the white-emblazoned handgun. Finding it, his fingers clenched around it, and he pulled his arm out. He spun, rolling onto his belly, and took aim with the pistol.

His aim was pretty piss poor with the maimed hand, and as such it was unsteady, unreliable and dodgy. His first shot went wide, slamming into a poster hanging on the hall, the shot tearing through it and burying itself in the wall, the bullet caved inwards from the impact. This was enough to give Leng pause however, as he realized the man was now armed. Marcus' second shot was closer, whizzing past Leng's face by mere inches, but it was enough to finally force the assassin to cease his advance. He rolled to his immediate right as a third shot almost connected with his other shoulder, instead slicing through the now empty air and impacting the couch behind him, fluff shooting into the air from the aggressive bullet.

His left hand did its best to track Leng as he fled Marcus' ranged onslaught, rolling down to grab his blade before sheathing it and engaging his cloak. Four more bullets rang through the room, impacting nothing but walls, Marcus having to slam a thermal clip into it midway. A fifth actually managed to strike Leng while he was cloaked: whether through pure fortune or the fact Marcus could see the distortion made by a cloak, he couldn't tell, but it was enough that he could justify pouring the last two shots of his clip into that general area. Both missed however, meaning Leng had shifted position, and they once again hit nothing but walls.

Reaching to his waist, he grabbed a second thermal clip, reaching forward to place it i-

A boot landed abruptly and forcefully on the wrist of the hand gripping the pistol, causing Marcus to cry out from the sudden impact. He immediately recognized the foot as belonging to Randall, who began pressing it deeper and more forcefully, eventually forcing Marcus to drop the phalanx altogether. The weapon clattered to the ground, but not before Marcus dropped his fresh clip to the floor, grabbed the side of the weapon and ejected the spent clip.

With a hiss, the clip flew through the air and landed on the floor, still white hot with the heat dumped into it. Wasting no time, Marcus wrapped his hand around it, feeling the intense heat feed through his armoured gauntlet, before flicking it upwards.

Randall had watched the whole thing. He stepped back, foot releasing Marcus' left wrist, allowing him to roll away from the manhunter as he strafed to avoid the hot bundle of energy racing up towards his face. Rolling until he was on his back, he shot back up, turning to reach down and grab a plank of splintered wood from the ground, brandishing it as a weapon.

This'll do.

Hearing a crackle behind him, Marcus snapped around, swinging the plank as he did. He saw Leng for a grand total of one second before the wood slammed into his face, causing his head to snap back. More of the wood snapped away from the blunt force whack, which bit at the sides of Leng's face, cutting him. The assassin, despite his strength, was knocked to the ground from the power of it, hitting the floor with a thud. With Kai Leng indisposed, Marcus quickly swung back around, still holding the wood fragment, ready to deal with Randall.

Just as he did with Leng, he brought the wood swinging downwards, only for it to smash onto his raised, blocking left arm. The wood broke apart from the force, snapping in half and the upper half clattering to the floor, while Marcus was left holding a much smaller, useless lower piece. He only had time to drop it before Randall snapped up his right hand, grasping the N7 around the throat. His fingers tightened considerably, allowing him to lift Marcus roughly off the deck and into the air.

He didn't fail to notice the burn mark marred Randall's left cheek. It was the distinct shape of a thermal clip, rectangular in shape and diagonally positioned, but Randall didn't look like he actually cared about it, his eyes focused solely on the man infront of him as he tried to squeeze the life from him, fingers digging into his skin pointedly and Marcus feeling his throat beginning to contract, cutting off his air supply.

That was not the manhunter's plan however. Turning around, he slammed Marcus into the wall behind him, still grasping him firmly by the neck. This gave Marcus enough time to raise his right arm and strike the man across the head with his elbow, forcing him to let go. With his neck now released, Marcus let loose with a flurry of blows to the man's abdomen and face, while Randall did his best to deflect what few blows he could. With bruises appearing across the soldier's face, the N7 grabbed Randall by the armor and spun him around, slamming into the same section of wall he had occupied seconds before.

Letting go, he reared one hand back, readying himself to deliver one final, brutal punch. Barrelling it forth, he sighed angrily as Randall ducked to the side at the last minute, his armoured fist ramming the wall violently. The resulting collision left a large dent in the wall, bending back and warping the metal at least an inch inwards. Not missing a beat, Randall then proceeded to wrap his arm around the outstretched arm, pinning it beneath his arm. With his good arm pinned, Randall proceeded to strike Marcus' maimed shoulder, once again causing him to wince, but not affecting him as badly as it had when Leng did it. This was all the Cerberus commander needed though, flattening out his hand and sending the tips of his fingers flying into his throat.

Marcus felt his oesophagus stiffen in response, tightening up as the rapidity of the jab left him completely breathless and dry heaving for air. Stricken by this, he could do nothing as Randall then took his pinned arm, reared his elbow, and then proceeded to ram it into the back of his arm. Marcus gritted his teeth and screamed internally as the bone in that arm snapped, cracking loudly as his right arm, the only reliable arm he had left to fight with, was rendered completely useless. It was then that the Cerberus operative let go of him, allowing the captain to fall to his knees, as he cradled his broken arm, sharp, stinging agony filling his entire mind as he felt his vision begin to blur, body wanting to pass out from the intensity.

Crouching infront of him, Randall looked at the spectre with a sort of sad disapproval, only for Marcus suddenly slam his forehead into his, bruising the manhunter's scalp, and causing his head to snap back briefly, although not out of shock. Recovering fairly quickly, he turned back, ignoring the reddening bump on his head as he cracked his neck, "You've fought well, captain. But with a broken arm and and the other one useless, you are exactly where we want you: defeated."

Overcome with agony and discomfort, Marcus was barely able to think, let alone formulate a response to the manhunter's ultimatum. He still managed to do it however, turning up to him with a smile, sighing, "Yeah...but at least I beat the shit out of both of you. No one will say Captain Shepard died like a Kai Leng."

He heard shifting on the ground behind him: Kai Leng was steadily recovering himself, standing up as he picked up his sword. Something he was about to do must have annoyed Randall, as the manhunter looked up, holding up a single hand to signal him to stop whatever it was he was about to do, "No, Leng. We do this cleanly and we do this my way. A quick and clean kill."

"What!?" this audibly enraged the assassin, "You said-"

He shot up, coming to stand as he waved the assassin off, "Would you have agreed to the plan if I had told you the outcome? Besides, what does it matter? The man will die. You will have your pitiful vengeance, and Cerberus will be rid of its number one enemy. His army is entirely unaware of his predicament. We'll finish him off, string his corpse up for all to see, and return to HQ. With their morale crippled, we'll mount one final attack to finish them off. Omega will be ours, Shepard will be dead and our cause will remain everlasting."

"Fuck you," Leng spat, walking around until he was in Marcus' view, arriving at Randall's side. Numerous cuts now adorned his face, each bleeding but only slightly. He reached up and picked a wood splinter out of one particular cut, wincing at the slight sting. Dropping it to the ground, he slammed his sword into the floor, impaling it there before darting to his knees, one hand grabbing Marcus' hair roughly and pulling it back forcefully, face moving close enough to his that he could smell his breath, and almost feel his eyes appraising him. The assassin grinned, chuckling. His breath blew across his face, Marcus wincing from the intense, garlic-like smell, "I've waited months for this. To see you on our knees where you belong. Broken, battered, defenseless. I told you this day would come, Shepard."

Marcus just looked back with utter contempt, "That's just how you like 'em, isn't it, Leng? Broken, battered, defenseless? It took real soldiers to put a stop to you. And even then, you just stabbed them in the back. You don't work in the shadows, you're a bitch of the shadows. Besides, it was Randall who defeated me...not you. How's that feel?"

Enraged by this comment, the assassin pulled back, still holding him by the head, and punched him in the face, breaking his nose. Blood spurted across the ground, the captain laughing as he spat a larger, thicker blob after it. Looking back up, he just continued to smile back at Leng, who had let go of his hair to stand up, backing away, reaching for his sword in the process, "I barely felt that one. You punch like a fairy, Leng. You sure you have cybernetics?"

His hand snapped up his sword, ripping it out of the floor with loud, piercing tear. His breaths came out ragged and animalistic, sounding more like an incensed rhino than an angered human being. Randall noticed this, but also noted the assassin hadn't moved to attack, nodding as he turned back to Marcus, crouching once more so they were eye level, licking his lips with calm agency, entirely unperplexed by the situation, "You understand what happens next. What must be done. I ask this, because despite our differences, I respect you. Every man must learn to respect his enemy to truly defeat him. It's a lesson my colleague has yet to comprehend, but nonetheless, you have my respect. Alas, respect is not friendship, and you are my enemy. Again, I say this because I do what I do to protect humanity."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, blood beginning to leak from his broken nose and into his mouth, the N7 disgustingly spitting it out onto the ground, the trickle below his nose becoming an intolerable itch, "It isn't personal. I get it. Just know that I never bought that 'protecting humanity' bullshit. Cerberus is like any other pro-racial segregation group of human history...it isn't about the agenda, it's about a standard power trip. So don't insult my intelligence. You're all indoctrinated. Fuck Cerberus, and fuck you," he looked up at Leng, sparing him one last sneer, "And an extra 'fuck you' to you. I hope my wife hangs your head in our cabin as a trophy, you piece of shit," he narrowed his eyes, "Remember I said that. The day will come where you will scream, Leng. And the very aliens you despise will be your demise."

Randall nodded reluctantly, looking saddened: almost as if he had found out a role model of his turned out to be a scumbag, "That's one aspect of you that I failed to understand for a while, Shepard: your idiocy. I thought about it after our encounter on Rannoch. I really thought about it. In the end, I think I've come to understand," he craned his head, sadness turning to disappointment, "You're no hero. You're not even a legend. Your squad made you what you are. Without them, you're just another N7: a big deal by itself, but not worthy of legend. Your wife's strength, Vakarian's brotherhood, T'Soni's network, your Alenko's conservative nature...the list goes on. Today, we proved that. Take away your squad, and what's left is a simple special forces operative...not much else."

A few moments passed, and a slight smile picked at the corner of Marcus' lips, "Congratulations, Randall Ezno. You've figured out something I've known for a while. You think I believe I'm some hero? Do you think I masturbate to news articles about my heroism and courage? I fucking hate it. I've had Jews call me the Messiah. I've had people call me the second coming of Jesus fucking Christ. Athame's guardian, Talos' vanguard, Avatar of the Ancestors...and that's just the deities. I've been called a slayer of Gods, the Bane of Reapers, the Slayer of Geth, Destroyer of Collectors...hell, even the simple fact I married a quarian and not an asari has been praised to high heaven...like I'm some kind of saint. And did I mention the krogan used my name as an entirely new word in their language? I don't want any of it, and I never have. I do my job, nothing more. I'm no Messiah. I'm not Jesus. I don't slay Gods, and I certainly can't credit myself as destroying anything single-handedly. My team made all that possible: I just formed them and forced them to work together. So tell me, Ezno...if my squad is truly what makes me great," he leaned forward, his voice a whisper, "Then you'd better be ready when they come for you. Killing me will only make me a martyr. So go on, unleash timmy's little guard dog on me. I'm sure he just thirsts for my blood. Practically a vampire."

Randall was silent, gulping as he regarded the man before him. Finally, he gave a final exhale, slapping his knees as he pulled himself up, "No...you're not a God. You're a mere man. And men can die. I hate to waste four billion credits worth of Cerberus scientific resource expenditure, but in the end, you brought this one on yourself. Cerberus remembers those who turn their backs on it, and once we're done with you, we'll be paying Miss Lawson a visit."

"Say hello to Harbinger for me," Marcus joked. He then sarcastically revisited that comment, "Oh, right. You're not indoctrinated. I totally forgot." Well, this is it. Not much else to do now except let it happen. I can't fight back. I've got a broken right arm, disabled left, a broken nose...utterly and completely fucked from top to bottom. Ah well...I'm tired of fighting anyway. My squad will continue the fight...they don't need me. They never did. All I did was put them together...they did the rest. They're the real heroes, not me.

His head snapped to the left this time, reeling back from yet another of Leng's punches. He could hear Randall chastizing the assassin, while he lazily pulled his head back, suddenly feeling lethargic and tired: almost as if his body had finally drained what was left of his adrenaline, identifying his degraded fighting spirit. Almost like it was at terms with his mind's decision, and capitulated to it.

A sword does not require the handle to be deadly...it can still cut, it can still bleed the enemy...all it does is guide them. But Garrus is more than ready to take command...he's a worthy successor, and a Spectre now to boot. He and Tali will be fine...they'll keep up the good fight. They'll make sure the Crucible is finished and lead us to victory. They don't need me. Tali will mourn, but she'll recover, just as she did last time. This is war.

He was reminded eerily of Tarquin's last moments once more as he turned back to Leng, shaking his head. Victory at any cost.

"-sick of waiting," once Marcus began to focus on them again, he could hear everything they said, "We've stood here and endured his crap long enough. Let me kill him. A quick, clean cut, like you said. Slice his head right off."

There was a loud sigh, before Randall rubbed his forehead, hands on his hips. Eventually, he nodded. Leng smiled, twirling his sword again before turning to approach Marcus, only to stop as Randall grabbed his shoulder, holding him in place. The assassin looked visibily annoyed by the delay, turning back to the manhunter as he spoke, "Do not play me, Leng. You kill the man and make it quick. We do not have time for torture or for you to play with him. Behead him and then bag him. We must vacate this area before his troops come looking."

"Oh, do get over yourself. Stop acting like what we do has any honor behind it," Leng snapped, shrugging his shoulder out of Ezno's grip as he approached Marcus, grinning, his shadow falling over the kneeling, defeated Spectre, "This is an execution. Acknowledge that so I can have my moment in peace. If I can't savour it, I will certainly take pleasure from it."

"Wait," Marcus stated, the assassin frowning at him. He ignored him, turning to Randall with a simple look: no grins or smart remarks this time. This was truly the end, "If I am going to be executed, I would rather die on my feet and then on my knees. Let me stand."

The manhunter seemed to think the decision over, tongue rolling in his mouth as he picked the man's words apart to find a hidden motive. Surprisingly however, in a shocking display of empathy, it was Leng who spoke, "Oh, let him stand, Randall. Let him have his little moment. It won't hurt him anymore than my blade will."

The manhunter actually seemed to chuckle, jabbing a low thumb upwards for Marcus to stand. Trying to do so awkwardly (as he had no arm to do so), Marcus could only manage to stumble. Wrapping a hand under one arm, Leng pulled him up, although the assassin made absolutely sure to do it with his right arm, causing the Spectre to bite down his lip and scream silently in response. Now standing, Marcus looked directly at the wall ahead, ignoring them both, as Randall responded, "That's surprisingly empathetic of you, Leng. You do your reputation no favours with such acts of nobility."

The N7 gulped as he felt cold steel suddenly and gently tap the side of his neck, hanging there, the silver blade gleaming in the dim light. It stayed there for a few moments, cold surface chilling his skin and causing goosebumps to rise all over that area. He rose his head slightly to allow for a clean cut, although he doubted he would do much if Leng decided to make his decapitation a slow one. Let's hope his apathy doesn't reemerge.

Kai Leng focused all his attention on his blade, making sure he lined up the swing perfectly, "Believe me, when you commit such acts such as this, the true nature of a man can be distributed by his excitement. This is not combat, this is execution: I can take my time."

"No, you can't," Randall muttered, crossing his arms, "Now, do it already. We have to go."

He didn't close his eyes. He didn't stop breathing. He didn't tense up. He didn't so much as blink. His face bloodied and battered, both arms throbbing endlessly in torment, he awaited the inevitable slice of a blade entering his neck and ending his life. In the end, he would be content with it. He would no longer be subject to Reaper puppetry, and no longer plagued by Cerberus. His team would lead the UGC in his stead, and he would watch the Reaper defeat from high above.

He didn't even gift them the acknowledgement. He stared straight away, almost as if they weren't even there.

But, then he saw it. At the corner of his eye. A blur moved closer to the window, and he frowned at it. He couldn't make out the details, but just as they were coming into focus, he noticed the figure dash towards the window and-

The glass exploded outwards with a loud bang, deadly, miniture shards shooting inwards as the window cracked and shattered into hundreds of seperate fragments. Tunnelling through the explosion, a blur of motion and movement, the figure erupted into the room, landing in a roll. Emerging in a battle stance and casually ignoring the glass that continued to land around them and was dotting the floor, a three-fingered hand unholstered their pistol, took aim and emptied four rounds straight into Leng's face. His kinetic barriers absorbed every shot, but the force was enough to send him lurching back, Marcus ducking as his blade swung lazily to the side.

Taken by surprise, Randall unholstered his rifle, and spun around, taking aim at the lone figure, who hadn't even bothered to turn her pistol to address the manhunter. Almost as if-

All eyes in the room were directed to the floor as a massive, blue burst of dark energy sent the only door ramming forward like a battering ram, literally ripped from its hinges like paper from a book's spine and tossed carelessly onto the flight of stairs directly opposite it. They settled amongst a haze of disturbed dust particles, which clogged the air. Circuits hissed and popped as their nerve endings suddenly didn't exist. Biotic energy tickled the sides of the doorway before evaporating.

A second figure dashed through the door, shotgun holstered on their back. Their face was a visible contortion of amusement and delight. With flick of the hand, she biotically lifted and threw Leng aside, the assassin's body spinning through the air almost comically before hitting the ceiling, where he unceremoniously thudded on the floor, landing with less grace than a turian trying to swim. His sword landed beside him, well within his reach.

Randall, torn between who to target, turned to the new target, raising his rifle to fire. He got off a few shots before the asari closed the distance. She moved to punch him, only for Randall to duck under it and hit her in the stomach, winding her enough for him to raise his rifle to her head. He stumbled however when the first figure fired several shots into his back, causing his barriers to flare. The second figure recovered, standing back up, with a biotic fist trailing her ascent. It struck his harrier rifle head on, sending it flying from his hands to slap the wall and clatter on the floor. Quick on his feet, his head snapped down to grab his pistol, unholstering it and managing to unload two shots into the first figure's shoulder before Aria gets sick of his antics and sends both hands slamming into his chest, biotically charged and with an explosive kiss. The burst sends Randall slamming into the remains of the desk, wood remnants flying into the air around his crash site.

By the end of the brief skirmish, Marcus knew exactly who these people were. He smiled as Nyreen approached Randall with her pistol raised, making sure he didn't get back up while Aria turned to regard the beaten Spectre, still having not equipped her shotgun. She regarded him from top to bottom, shaking her head, "Shit Shepard, you like some of the people I roughed up back before losing Omega."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I look like shit: got that memo a while ago. Glad you guys turned up, but may I ask exactly how you knew I was here or that I was in trouble?"

Aria just waved him off, turning to regard Nyreen who had her focus entirely on a seemingly unconscious Randall, "Garrus sent us. He was the first to notice you were missing. Nyreen said she spotted you leaving the battlefield, and elected to go find you: I tagged along, mostly because I actually need you alive to lead my invasion. We find some Cerberus engineer asshole monitoring his omni-tool and all 'round being fucking useless on the corner, so Nyreen took care of him. We heard a few sounds coming from the room, and when we looked in, we saw that black armoured motherfucker about to decapitate you. Nyreen took the window, I took the door: flanking maneveur. Worked better than I thought it would."

"Only because I came up with it," Nyreen commented, "You would have just rushed in."

A sigh. "Well, when that insufferable, moral scyophant is right, she's right. Now, how about a thank you for saving your ass?"

He clicked his tongue, emulating an annoyed teenager, "Oh, Aria. I would shake your hand in sincere gratitude, but both my arms seem to be pretty fucking useless right now."

"I know. It's pathetic to look at," the asari groaned with some disapproval, "You looked like you'd given up when we saw you through that window. Don't tell the Great Commander Shepard had surrendered like a little bitch?"

"Now's not the time for your antics, Aria," Nyreen admonished, still not turning towards them, "We need to get him out of here."

"What about the battle?" he asked, turning to Aria, "Have we won?"

That put a grin on Aria's face, who was now motioning him towards the open doorway, ready to escort him out of the room, "Last time we were there, we were mopping up what was left of the Cerberus right flank and quickly moving onto their center. They'll be finished soon enough."

"Aria, behind you!"

Nyreen's words had been punctuated by several gunshots even before Marcus and Aria had turned around to address the threat. His eyes widened as he was welcomed by the sight of Leng standing behind him, sword descending ontop of his head. His shields flared with the bullet impacts, but he barely felt them as he focused entirely on his target. Aria wouldn't have been fast enough to fire her shotgun, so it seemed Marcus was truly fucked.

Luckily, Nyreen had other abilities to stop Leng with. The assassin's movements suddenly stopped as the entire arm holding the sword ceased all movement, wrapped in a caccoon of oscillating, blue liquid energy that pulsed bright white. The stasis field encased even the sword, meaning Leng could everywhere but his right arm. Grunting, he was helpless as Nyreen fired several more shots directly into him, ready to finish him off.

But while she did this, she took her attention off of Randall. Having bided his time, the manhunter now leapt from the desk like a zombie, wood raining down from him as he raised his fist and struck Nyreen across the back of the head. The turian's aim stumbled, bullets slamming into the second window, shattering it. Holstering her weapon, Nyreen turned to engage Randall, who had leapt down, grabbed his rifle, and returned to crouch, taking aim at Marcus, looking to deliver a quick, clean headshot.

Aria would have none of it. She sent a biotic warp plowing into the operative, who's shields sputtered from the impact. She followed this with a series of shotgun blasts who's momentum and force caused Randall's aim to steadily slide from clear cut to infeasible. Irritated by this sleight of hand, he instead turned to face Aria, who was now charging towards him, yelling.

With Nyreen distracted by Randall's punch, the stasis field around Leng's arm fell, causing it to release him. Marcus backed against a wall, using his left arm to reach down and grab a broken shard of glass. Finding one, he hid it behind his back as he watched Leng recover, ignoring the numbness in his arm as he turned back to his seemingly undefended target. Smiling, he charged, hissing hysterically as he swung from the right with his ninjato.

Waiting for him to close the distance, Marcus ducked, causing Leng's blade to uselessly ping off the wall and slice through the air where he had been. With the assassin exposed and in range, the N7 wasted no time in unveiling his secret weapon, darting his left hand up to bury the glass shard into Leng's right hip. Kai Leng cried out from the sudden intrusion, stepping away as blood began to seep around the entry point where the glass fragment was left. Reaching down and ripping it apart (subsequently causing even more blood to pour out), he angrily tossed it aside and prepared to finish Marcus off with his hand cannon, palm raised as he prepared to blow the N7's head off.

Nyreen was beside him in a flash. Pistol holstered, she swatted aside the hand with the cannon, causing it to aim at the ground where it discharged, crackling energy bursting on the floor. Pissed off at the constant interruptions to his attempted execution, he made the mistake of whirling his entire right arm at her in an attempt to get rid of her: like he was swatting a mosquito.

Raising both her forearms, she let the swinging appendage collide uselessly. The turian grunted from the powerful impact, but had nonetheless successfully deflected it. Dropping the deflected arm he quickly and rapidly rose his left in a swift uppercut. Nyreen ducked back, and it clipped her jaw, causing her head to snap back ever so slightly and her sharp canines to bite the top of her mouth, drawing blue blood. She spat it onto the ground, tongue licking up the rest as she sent a biotically charged warp field straight into his face.

Surprised by this, Leng was temporarily blinded, his cybernetics taking a mere second to filter out the light. This was enough for Nyreen to close the distance, delivering a swift haymaker with her right fist to the side of his cheek, followed by a left hook to the other side. She didn't let up, uppercutting him in the chest, before her fourth strike was finally checked, the furious assassin literally grabbing hold of the fist in mid air, gripping it tightly.

Hissing, he reached up and grabbed one of her head frills, and began to roughly pull it back. Nyreen cried out, forcing her to one knee. The assassin, grinning as he began to overcome his turian nemesis, began to twist the hand he held hostage back, attempting to twist it. Unfortunately for him, Nyreen was two steps ahead.

Her other hand free, she reached up and tapped his chest, summoning as much biotic energy as she could. Before Leng knew what was happening, she distributed a massive surge of dark energy, channelling it directly into his chest. Bypassing his barriers, the assassin found himself lifted into the air where he slammed into the ceiling, forcing him to let go of Nyreen's frill and fist mid departure. Standing back up, she strafed aside, as he landed on the floor. Having had a similar experience, he rolled onto his back and leapt back to his feet, unsheathing his sword.

He turned back to Marcus, lips curled back in a grotesque visage of a human, teeth bared and spittle erupting from his quivering lips. He made one last ditch attempt to kill him, but it was all for nought. As he turned, a three-fingered hand snapped around the wrist holding the sword and held on tightly, pulling him back roughly. Stumbling, all he would feel next was Nyreen's fist connecting to his face, followed by her twisting the arm further back before bringing her elbow down on it.

Before he even heard the crack, and the scream that followed it, Marcus could only smile at the karma. Suck on that, asshole.

Leng, with his right arm now broken (much like Marcus), dropped his sword to the ground, now firmly caught in a one sided battle with a two armed, barely injured turian biotic. His left arm smashed into the turian's belly, but she merely shrugged that off, biting through the pain to spit the blue blood collating in her mandibles onto his face. His nose wrinkled and mouth creased as his cheeks and forehead were splattered with the xeno blood.

He reached up for a second strike, only for Nyreen to lazily kick it aside, more annoyed than concerned about the assassin's now failing attempts at fighting back. After a third failed strike at her chest, she raised one foot and kicked him back, striking him in the head. This sent the assassin fumbling to the ground who, now dripping blood all over the floor from the glass wound in his hip and trailing a useless, but agonizing, broken arm behind him, began to drag himself across the floor and away from the turian, grabbing his sword in the process. He finally managed to stand up, turning back to Nyreen as he sheathed the sword, stopping by the window.

"I'm...going to kill you...bitch..." Leng spat violently, apparently unconcerned by his redundant appendage, "If you think breaking my arm means anything, you're wrong. I can fight just as well with my left," he reached down, unsheathing one of his many auxiliary knives, twirling it between his fingers with effortless precision, "This...I'm going to bury this in your skull, you turian whore."

The two of them paused briefly as Randall flew past between them, Marcus watching as the three watched his body slam into a wall. Even still, after all the beating Aria was giving him, the manhunter managed to get back up, unholstering an SMG to fire five suppression bursts at her. He then ran up the stairs, holding his side, as Aria biotically charged to the location he had been moments ago, emerging like a blue torpedo, fists colliding with the wall at supersonic speeds, causing it to dent severely. Roaring, she turned and sprinted up the stairs in pursuit of Ezno, the sound of gunfire and biotic warps clearly heard above them.

Turning back, he saw Nyreen closing on Leng, the latter of which was in a huddled position, awaiting the turian's next move. The turian makes her move, fainting with a left hook before actually launching a right. To his credit, the assassin countered each one with a parry, making good use of reserve defense in compensation for his vulnerable flank. As such, the ex-Cabal continued to launch a myriad of kicks, punches and strikes, each one more powerful, hard hitting and swift than the last, all with the intent of whittling down Leng's defenses.

Even with all his cybernetics and special forces training, the assassin was unable to continue keeping up with her. Slowly backing towards the shattered window, blocks becoming more and more lazily executed and only just deflecting the attacks they were meant for, and his limited effectiveness more and more prevalent.

Back against the window, Leng's fight or flight instinct kicked in. To Marcus' surprise, he chose fight.

With a last ditch attempt to catch Nyreen offguard, he charged forward, lunging forward with his knife, now profusely sweating. Nyreen raised a biotic barrier to absorb the strike, and he was knocked back by it. Seeing him stumbled, the turian pressed the advantage and made for the final kill. Parrying each of his subsequent strikes, she grabbed his wrist on the sixth attack, twisted around, and tore the knife from his hand. Entirely helpless to stop it, Leng could only attempt to get in first as Nyreen made the plunge. His hand wrapped around her throat, tightening painfully quick just as she drove his blade deep into his abdomen. It sunk hard and it sunk deep, the sound of tearing armor plating and crushed flesh an unwelcome melody to Marcus' ears.

Nyreen croaked for air due to the assassin's powerful grip around her neck, but she only countered this by twisting the blade around in his gut. Leng coughed and sputtered, and once it became too much for him, he finally released his grip. Gasping for air, Nyreen angrily let go of the knife embedded in his belly and rose her right leg for one, powerful front kick. Slamming him in the chest, she watched as he hit the window's edge, the force sending him flying out through the frame and onto the ground outside, where he landed with a thud.

A few moments passed as Nyreen watched outside, waiting for him to get back up.

He never did.

He sighs happily, leaning away from the window to look back up the stairs. The sounds of fighting had stopped, so Marcus could only assume that either Randall had killed Aria, or Aria had killed Ezno. In the end, he didn't care. He could only draw in short, reserved breaths, desperately trying to draw focus away from his throbbing, broken arm, damaged left arm and shattered nose as the adrenaline dripping away caused the pain to increase tenfold. Nyreen arrived at his side, wiping away the rest of the blood on her mandibles as she grabbed his head, turning him to face her. She looked into them, as if trying to gauge his health through simple looks. Nodding, she patted his shoulder, "You'll be fine, Shepard. You're beaten and bruised, but I saw the injuries on those two assassins...you gave them a good fight. Who are they anyway?"

He scoffed, coughing, his throat dry from the lack of water, "Well, the one you just killed is Kai Leng. The one Aria has probably killed is Randall Ezno. They're Cerberus' top agents, and they had almost been about to team up to kill me. Before they worked seperately. This is the first time I've seen them work together to take me down."

The turian chuckled, wiping his temple of sweat, "You've certainly made a lot of enemies, Shepard. If they're for the right reasons, I'd be glad to know how you made them."

He looked at her, before nodding to the water canteen at her waist, "I'm parched. Let me have a sip of water, and I'll tell you all about it."

"Fair enough," Nyreen reached down to the canteen, twisting the lid open and handing it to him. He took it with his left arm, as that one hurt the least and was still partially usable, and took a large swig. Letting it part his lips only after it had satisfied his thirst, he handed it back over to her. She nodded, replacing the lid and reattaching it to her waist. Slapping her thighs, she stood back up, holding out a hand to him, "Come on, let's get you out of here, captain."

He nods, lifting his left hand to grab hers. The turian pulled him up, the captain ignoring the discomfort it caused him as he accepted the helping hand, coming to stand once more. Before the Talon general could help him any further, he held up a hand, ushering her to stand back, "It's okay. I can handle myself from here. I've got a broken arm, not broken legs."

She nodded, understanding what he meant. Likely wondering what Aria was up to, and worried about the lack of sound upstairs, Nyreen quickly tapped her comm, trying to get in contact with the asari.

She needn't have bothered. Slow, methodical footsteps could be heard coming down the steps, and the two of them looked up as Aria, shotgun in one hand and hanging limply at her side, walked down towards them, navigating around the two door pieces lying there, and approached them. She had bruising down the side of her face, an indicator that her scuffle with Randall had gotten a bit up close and personal. Regardless, the asari's appearance before them was proof she was alive, meaning she must have defeated Randall.

"Is he dead?" Nyreen asked, finger lowering from her comm to look at the asari. Her eyes flicked to the bruise on her head for the briefest of moments, before leaning back and crossing her arms. Marcus, if it was any of his business, would have surmised that she still cared about Aria, but he elected to not make mention of it.

"I fucking wish," Aria said jadedly, holstering her shotgun. She rubbed the side of her cheek, pulling her hand away to inspect whether or not any blood was present. Luckily for her, there wasn't, "Asshole is fast, I'll give him that. The moment he realized he couldn't win against me and that his inhibitor doesn't work on asari, he punched me in the face, dropped a smoke grenade and jumped through a window. By the time he got through and reached the window, he was gone. Nowhere to be found. Happened about the same time as I saw Leng get kicked through the window on your floor."

Marcus winced at that, realizing that Randall had once again escaped their grasp. First Rannoch, now this. Seems I have to add Randall to my list of people to kill. At least Leng is out for the count. I wish it could have been me, but I'll settle for his death. Still, if we're going to be continuing our campaign on Omega, Randall could make that difficult. Petrovsky's already smart enough without Randall at his side.

Nyreen, after a moment, uncrossed her arms and reequipped her Pugio III pistol, slapping a fresh thermal clip into it. Turning to the both of them, she nodded, "Come on, we should probably get back to the battle. We need to inform Vakarian that Shepard's alive and help the assault. No doubt more of my men will have arrived to assist."

Aria frowned, turning to the turian. She didn't seem at all happy at this discovery, or particularly aware of it to begin with, "You called for Talon reinforcements? When were you going to tell us?"

Pulling the hood back over her face, Nyreen looked to have ignored Aria's comment as she made for the doorway, but instead spoke just as she reached it, motioning to Marcus to move, "They're my troops, my responsbility. I don't answer to you, Aria. Besides, with Cerberus likely monitoring your communications, I thought it best they didn't know the Talons were coming. Imagine their surprise when the rebels they fought started working with the new invaders on the block."

"And what, they weren't monitoring yours?" Aria quipped dryly, walking up to join the turian and the wounded N7.

She shook her head, "My Talons have been fighting a guerilla war with Cerberus for little over seven months, Aria. We know Cerberus' operations here far more intimately than you do, and that means we know every trick to play. We constantly use new and different frequencies so that Petrovsky's engineers never catch on. The frequency I use is far more secure than your own," she turned to Aria, her left mandible twitching, "And with Colonel Farland's men recalled to deal with your attack, Petrovsky will think my men are regrouping and too busy to help you. Perfect time to strike and show our new colors. We need to show Omega we stand united against Cerberus."

"Nyreen's right, Aria," Marcus grunted, drawing both of their attentions. He sighed, feeling relief as he realized the headache was gone, meaning Randall's inhibitor was either destroyed or out of range, "It was a good move. Besides, we could use whatever help we can get. Cerberus' assault has put a sizable dent in our forces, and we'll need Talons to plug that gap. And if we show Omega hope for a different future, they may just support us. After all, Cerberus is only holding onto the station because they think they're bringing real change."

"They were free to do as they wished under my rule," Aria spat, entirely unpleased with the notion of her enemy doing better at ruling Omega than she did. She slammed a fist onto her chest, pounding it for extra measure, "Trade blossomed under me. There were no police to pester the entrepreneurian spirit. No laws and regulation. No politicians for corruption to seed. No government to tell them what they could and could not do. There's none of that under Petrovsky. Under these pro-human supremacists."

"You're missing the point, Aria," Marcus stated, Aria not meeting his gaze as she didn't want to hear the truth, "In the end, complete freedom isn't what they wanted. Like it or not, Omega was far from the safest place in the galaxy: there are reasons why people prefer the Citadel or their homeworlds. They want security. They can live freely knowing the state will protect them. A military ensures no oppression, politicians means no need to worry about micromanagement and police, for the most part, ensures there is no need to feel unsafe. On Omega? Your lack of security meant people were afraid to step outside their own damn apartments for fear of being shot, tortured, enslaved or raped. People were free to extort and be extorted, to hate and be hated. Hell, your handling of Morinth was just typical. I think the plague was the most you did to ensure any sort of stability on this god forsaken junk heap. And let's not get into bloody quality control. This whole station is a poor man's Citadel, and you know it Aria."

Nyreen nodded in agreement, "You don't want to hear it Aria, but I'm going to say it: Petrovsky gave the people of Omega what they wanted. I've seen it myself. I've never seen such a high police presence. The martial law means murder and rape rates have died down to nothing, and those caught doing it are executed. Trade may be limited, and the people aren't left wanting for food and water. And with news of the Reaper War, I think the Cerberus military presence has never been more welcome. There's no fear on this station aside from Cerberus itself. That's why the people haven't risen up. There's no need to. They finally feel safe."

Aria shook her head, looking between the two of them incredulously, "The two of you...so fucking morally uptight. This isn't the Citadel, it never will be! It is the capital of the Terminus Systems. Three generations have ruled this station. That's centuries of harmonic anarchism! What fucking right does he have to change that? This isn't Council space! People don't come here to be ruled by governments, they come to escape them! I will not be the one to undo centuries of traditional lawlessness! No, when Petrovsky dies, and he will, I will return this station to its former glory."

"And what glory is that, you fool?" Nyreen chastized, entirely displeased by Aria's behaviour, "You have to face the facts, Aria. You have no hope of returning this station to its former state. Whatever is left of the Omega you and I knew is gone, never to return. The people won't let you return it. They may have come to escape governments, but now that they've had a taste of this one, they won't let go. The moment you try to reassert yourself with that agenda, they will overthrow you and put somebody they like in your place. That's the decision you have to make Aria: if you want to hold power here, you must bring change. Give the people what they want. Be an actual ruler for once in your life!"

Aria jammed a finger in her direction, furious at the audacity of the turian, "Oh, and I guess you think you could make a shot for the title, huh? Is that it, Nyreen? You want to rule Omega, be the people's person? This is my station, and I will take it back and restore it to its rightful place in the galaxy. Don't ever fucking lecture me on this again," she turned to Marcus, eyes still lit up, "That goes for you too, Shepard. I will not change my mind. I did not come all this way to change everything I hold so dear."

I this, I that. Fucking selfish, irresponsible, idiot! Why the hell am I here again?

He sighed, nodding to the asari, not having the energy to fight her any further when it was clear she wasn't going to shift that easily. Right, I need Omega and I need her to be in charge of it. Still...he shared a brief glance with Nyreen as Aria walked through the door, the two of them silently shrugging at each other. After a moment, she reached forward, grasping his shoulder gently, "Thank you for trying to reason with her, Shepard. She can be so thick, but we'll get through to her. We have to. We'll make her see reason."

He nodded, and the turian let go as she walked outside, Marcus quickly following her. He appraised the turian, thinking through everything he already knew about her, and wondered just what the hell he was doing. Nyreen is a capable leader...she cares for the people she's fighting for, even if they don't care for her cause. And she's clearly less of an anarchist than Aria, otherwise she wouldn't have left her...and then there's the clear love she has for her daughter, and the reciprocative nature of it.

The next thought he had was inevitable. Maybe Nyreen would be a better choice for ruler of Omega when this is over...

Before he could lament on this any further, he saw Nyreen whip up her pistol, suddenly taking aim at the ground outside to her left, "Damn, where did he go!?"

Marcus, eyes widening, realized too quickly what she meant as he rushed outside and followed her sight line to the destination. There, he found only drips of blood, still wet, coating the floor where a body should have been, but now wasn't. The blood seeped across the street, still dripping profusely, before seemingly stopping in the middle of the road. Either he had managed to clog the wound, or he had gotten in an escape the shuttle, the latter of which seemed unlikely due to the noise it would produce.

Marcus could only seethe as he discovered that Leng had once again slipped through his fingers. Fuck! And I thought we finally had him too! That's both Randall and Leng who've escaped now!

"I thought you said you'd killed him, Nyreen," Aria snapped, shotgun already out and scanning the area around them, "So unless his body just got up and walked away, you clearly fucking didn't."

"Come on," the N7 stated, walking back inside the room to grab his discarded weapons, as he remembered he had left them behind, "We have to get back to the battle."

"What about Leng?" Aria asked, clearly believing killing the assassin should be their priority. And as much as Marcus wish they could do that, he knew winning the battle was more important, "He could come back."

"He won't," he stated, reaching down and grabbing his Paladin pistol and holstering it, followed by his claymore shotgun, "He's a coward. Once he knows he's lost a fight, he'll run for it and wait it out for Round 2. And with the injuries he's got, he'll be out of it for a while. But trust me, he'll be back. He can't resist me. I'm like a light to his moth," he recovered his Locust SMG and pulse rifle, holstering them all as he returned outside, walking in the direction of the courtyard, "Let's go. We have an enemy to crush."

And onwards they went. Checking their corners for any surprises from their Cerberus friends.

It never came. They were well and truly smoke and mirrors.

Next time, they won't be so lucky.

{Loading...}

August 6, 2186

0820 hours.

Forward Entrance, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega.

Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District.

Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Major Kaidan Alenko, EDI, Moses.

What had been a mere breather for the beleaguered defenders of the bunker entrance had stretched on for quite a bit. Satisfied that the defense turrets were pummelling any Cerberus forces daring to cross the bridge, Tali, the squad and geth troops helping them to defend the entrance, were happy that they had been given a temporary, if fleeting, reprieve from the enemy onslaught. Of course, that had almost been brought to an end when Cerberus fighters and bombers had stepped up their attacks following the turrets being activated, even risking AA flak just to bomb them into oblivion. As such, many more troops had been lost on their side, Tali, Keeling and Javik just barely keeping alive as they were pelted with enemy machine gun fire and missiles.

Then, like guardian angels, geth fighters and interceptors appeared, slicing through them like a lance. Their spearhead sharpened and ready to cut, the geth fast movers were just as relentless with the enemy's aircraft as their dropships had been with the Cerberus gunships and shuttles (of which had stopped been ferried in due to the rate at which they were losing them), shooting them down indiscriminately, picking off fighters and bombers alike. It seemed as if the air supremacy Cerberus held was finally over.

But it didn't stop there. From their side, Tali and rest of their men had a clear view of the eastern flank, watching as an unending tide of rachni workers, soldiers and brood warriors had rapidly approached the Cerberus lines, bypassing their courtyard defenses to strike at their heart. Accompanied by Marcus and his own forces, they had engaged the enemy's flank in an intense, up close combat. That's all they had heard from them for about ten minutes: then, after that, Aria's voice had lit up the comm channel, proclaiming they had smashed the enemy's east flank and were now descending upon the enemy's center with rigorous speed. They had cheered, Tali sighing with relief, as they realized that the mighty enemy force across the bridge was, without a doubt, drawing its last breaths.

They weren't just taking a breather anymore. Their role in the battle was finished.

Tali, her head poking up from behind the safety barrier she was taking cover behind, scanned the enemy entrenchments on the opposite side. Their snipers were still keeping an eye on them, as were a few, heavily equipped squads of troopers with a single Atlas in support, but the majority of the regiment had repositioned to face the east side, having been made readily aware that their allies on that side had been annihilated.

Having seen enough and not wanting her head to get blown off by some nemesis, Tali ducked back down, opening her omni-tool to run a quick check on the bridge's control status. She sighed as she realized there was still nine, independent signatures controlling the bridge's control mechanisms, meaning she still couldn't retract the bridge. Straightening her hood, she turned around, turning off her omni-tool as she twisted to face the ever alert Keeling and the collected Javik. Her engineers, with the turrets now operational, had fallen back inside the base, protecting them from further enemy fire. The geth tank remained in position, ready to make a beeline towards the enemy if necessary. Kaidan had deactivated his tech armor, not seeing the need for it, and was leaning against a wall, sipping away at his water canteen and eating from an opened MRE packet, chatting with James, who was also munching away at his own packet of ready-to-eat consumables. Moses stood on the opposite side to Tali, pulse cannon keeping a close eye on the enemy, while EDI regularly checked her omni-tool for real-time battle sitreps and status updates. The geth troops assembled were biding their time, waiting for the next attack.

It wasn't coming. With the new threat to face, it appears Cerberus was in no position to risk another attempt taking the bridge. Even having control over it meant little to nothing when they couldn't even get within sight of it without being torn to bloody ribbons by the heavy chain guns the UGC had at their disposal. All they could do was wait them out. A siege while awaiting ground-based reinforcements.

Realizing she really did have nothing to do and that her stomach was only going to continue growling impatiently until she satiated its hunger, she reached down and pulled one of her nutrient paste tubes from one of her pockets. Releasing the seal, she quickly attached it to her auditory port, feeding it into her helmet. The foul looking, brown sludge may have not looked appetizing to turians, but for quarians, it was practically a gourmet feast, and something she was surprisingly able to afford given she was in the middle of a battlefield.

Just as she munched down the rest, she heard the supersonic bang of a fighter breaking the speed barrier. Quickly turning, she got to see a momentary glimpse of a Cerberus SX3 fighter, banking low and hard, shoot just over the bridge, missing it by inches. The back blast of its engines dispersed the air hard and fast, blowing into Tali's mask and causing her veil to ripple violently for a few moments before settling. It happened again, twice in fact, as the two geth fighters pursuing it, pulled off the same tactic, one of them firing a pair of missiles at the fighter as it shot past. Tali could only watch off in the distance as the fighter performed a barrel roll, managing to evade the first missile, only to be struck directly in the back by the second, spinning out of control. The pilot managed to eject, his tiny dotted form shooting up into the air as his fighter's drive core exploded, causing the entire fighter to turn into a raging fireball as it, now smaller than her finger in terms of distance, collided into a nearby building, a bright flash following its demise. The two geth fighters broke off, disappearing behind a pair of skyscrapers to the west.

Keelah, we're tearing them apart. Pretty soon we'll have them on the run.

"Kaidan," EDI spoke up, garnering everyone's attention instantly. Tali did so in time to see the AI looking up from her omni-tool, specifically addressing their CO. Kaidan turned from James, dropping the plastic fork he had been using to eat his food into the packet, turning to her and gulping down what he had in his mouth.

"Yes, EDI? What have you got for us?"

"I have just received reports from our forces on the other side," the AI declared, "According to battlefield analysis, our forces now outnumber the enemy completely. They are making best speed for the courtyard, and the geth dropships appear to have eliminated the last of the enemy gunships: what shuttles they had left have turned back. The geth fighter squadron has cut down the Cerberus air support significantly, with only a few fighters remaining, and all their bombers eliminated. After they have dealt with the enemy aircraft, they plan to move on and neutralize their artillery. Dropships are now being redistributed to fire support roles and deploying additional reinforcements. They believe the time for a single, multi-lateral attack will be necessary to finish off Cerberus."

Tali nodded. Geth reinforcements were sorely needed, especially after the last of the two armatures on the other side had been destroyed, left too long and exposed to the controlled firepower of the enemy. But if they were calling for a final multi-lateral counterattack, it was clear where the wind was blowing.

It's time to finish this. Keelah, Mark must have them really spooked.

She smiled, but hoped he was alright. He has been awfully quiet on the comms. I hope he's okay...keelah, if only I was over there fighting with him, not stuck behind this damn bridge. Maybe we can change that now...

Kaidan nodded, but it was James who spoke next, "Fuck yeah, let's give those putas a second headache. They've only got a few squads over there, and we've got turrets and a tank. I say we attack, while they're vulnerable."

"Can't believe I'm agreeing with the knuckle-head..." Keeling began, standing up. James seemed to smile at that, but she ignored it, "...but I concur. Their vulnerable right now, sir. We shouldn't let that slip."

"Crush your enemy where they are weakest," Javik reciprocated, "Let us crush these separatist scum. Send them back running to their Illusive Man."

"New data is coming in. One moment," EDI announced, causing them all to frown. Tali wondered if Cerberus reinforcements had arrived, only for the AI to smile, looking up at Kaidan, "Major, geth fighters have spotted several shuttles and a pair of gunships approaching from the west. They bear the Talon insignia and color scheme. It appears General Kandros has enlisted their assistance."

"Then we must go on the offensive," Javik reiterated, pointing in their general direction of approach, "If the Captain is attacking from the east, and these rebels are approaching from the west, then we must open up a northern front. Only then can we divide and crush them. Teach this separatist general a lesson he will not soon forget."

Pulling herself up, she nodded, cocking her shotgun, Tali making her own opinion known. Kaidan seemed to notice it, and nodded, unholstering his rifle.

"Very well. We charge, and hope to hell the enemy are too disorganized to bring the big guns to bear. We'll have support from the turrets all the way, and our tank should prove more than a match for the single D-09 they have to assist them," with a heavy intake of breath, Kaidan picked up his helmet and latched it over his head, now speaking over their comm. Turning to James, he pounded his chest, "Semper Fi."

"Semper Fi," James and Keeling replied in response. Tali didn't recognize the language, but by the way they said it, it had to be something motivational. She listened as Kaidan motioned their forces forward, the geth shock troopers taking up the front while Moses formed their center, the human major contacting General Golo, "General, this is Alenko. We've got Talon forces inbound west, and Marcus and his troops have smashed the enemy's right. I'm going to lead my men forward in the hope we can catch Cerberus in a pincer move. Do we have approval to engage? Say copy."

The response was instantaneous, the quarian's voice sounding irrepressible, "You have my full permission to engage. I'll send what geth troops we have left in reserve to support the assault. I think you'll like what we have in store. You have my good graces, major. Send them to hell: ancestors guide your bullets true."

"Copy that. If we're lucky, we'll be back for breakfast," Kaidan replied, smoothing his hand over his rifle before checking his thermal clip. Once he had made this vital check, he wracked back the slot, turning to the rest of his unit, now addressing them, "We push forward in five. Await my orders."

Tali and the others nodded, getting into position behind the already tightened geth picket line. Tali took her combat stance behind and inbetween two of the shock troopers, her shotgun poking nicely through the gap to give her a good sight line. Keeling was on her left, while Javik was on her right, both of them readying their own weapons in preparation for the now inevitable storm. James and EDI took similar positions beside Kaidan, who had reactivated his tech armor, holographic armor plates encasing his body while his M-9 Usurper braced against his shoulder tightly, finger feathering the trigger so so slightly.

Golo had made sure to deliver on his promise. Less than a minute later, more geth poured through the entrance, moving around their tank and forming a line just behind Tali and her group: more troopers, rocket troopers and shock troopers made up their unit, their assorted variety of weaponry aimed with conviction at the one enemy that mattered at the moment.

That wasn't the end to their good fortune. Moments later, with resounding screeches, the defenders watched as an echelon of six geth interceptors swooped down, fast and low, approaching from the west and rapidly descending upon the hidden Cerberus M45 Goblin SPGs behind the courtyard. Being fairly large aircraft, the interceptors only lowered to a low enough altitude to see the artillery, but it was more than enough apparently. As they shot past, a barrage of bristling plasma missiles, energy explosives and virulent superheated projectiles assaulted the Cerberus positions on the ground, pelting them with nothing but a relentless blitz of angry, hot fire. The carpet bombing was thorough and maximized, making sure nothing within its targetted radius was going to survive, soldier or vehicle.

Columns of smoke and flame reached high into the air, more and more appearing in a neat row down the street in the distance. Buildings were torn asunder by the intense explosions, debris and wreckage flying up into the air while some buildings simply collapsed. And, for equal measure, once the interceptors had finished their bombing run, several fighters riddled with the smoke-filled area with machine gun fire, their Spitfire-like main guns shredding the vicinity, parting smoke as their devastating volleys tore apart whatever survivors lurked, if any.

As the smoke continued to over and the light of intense fires burned brightly, Tali listened for the telltale sound of an artillery shell being dispersed. The interceptors and fighters did not return to bomb the area again, and after a minute had passed, the Cerberus guns had not opened fire again. Tali smiled, glad that she no longer had to worry about that one lucky shell that likely would have eventually struck true and killed them.

Without those guns and with no air support, Cerberus has nothing but ground troops. We'll make short work of that.

Three of the geth dropships swooped in again, returning from their slaughter of the enemy gunships. Coming in hard and fast, the dropships wasted no time in getting to work. With the sound of rachni swarming through and towards the courtyard getting louder and louder, two of the dropships deployed two, fresh armatures onto the rooftops where their comrades had been, reasserting armoured dominance. And while they began pelting the enemy defensive positions, the second dropship joined the third and began raining geth troops all over the courtyard, directly behind their entrenchments.

Not just any geth though...these were juggernauts. Three squads of geth juggernauts fell from the dropships' under carriages, slamming into the ground like air-based infantry, landing one one knee before immediately standing up, equipping either their Centaur grenade launchers or Spitfire miniguns, and immediately annihilating anything that was unfortunate enough to be too close. Tali watched as a nemesis was immediately blown away in a red, mirky mist as a juggernaut deployed next to her, its Spitfire's high velocity plasma rounds shredding her until she was nothing but bone fragments and meaty chunks splattered across the floor.

The few squads watching the bridge immediately turned to address the new threat, including the Atlas. Instead, the D-09 quickly found itself being attacked from above by all three dropships, and the heavy battle mech was left uselessly turn to and fro, unable to pick a target to focus on. They opened fire on the juggernauts, but it was clear the amount of geth firepower would overwhelm them with little effort.

In that moment, Kaidan gave the order, "All units, charge! Break their line!"

Being on point, the geth spearheaded their attack. Pulse rifles roaring to life, they pelted the enemy with suppression fire, allowing the more vulnerable forces to advance. Passing the turrets, Tali, along with everyone else, moved into a fast jog, weapon tightly held in her hands, as they rushed to meet the enemy. Just as they made this move, Garrus' voice filled the comms, relieving Tali even more.

"The cavalry has arrived!" The turian shouted, his voice punctuated by the shrieks and battle cries of rachni and krogan alike, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but...onward! Let's mop up the rest of this rabble and call it a day!"

It's only morning, but the sentiment is nice. Feels like an entire day though.

Gunfire, shouting and explosions originated from the east as their group made it halfway across the bridge. The battle was largely over from what she could see, with the juggernauts having made short work of what few troops had been left to keep an eye on the bridge. As a result, the defenders reached the other side with no resistance, gunning down what few Cerberus soldiers had managed to survive. White armoured corpses littered the ground, blood leaking across the floor in large, interconnecting pools of viscera and gore. Some of them were unrecognizable, so riddled with bullet holes as to be nothing but unidentifiable galleries of violence. They looked more akin to what you found in canned meat than former sentient creatures.

Their line split as they reached the other side, spreading out and repositioning to converge on the enemy's exposed rear. Tali, crouching at the crux of the platform, turned to her right to see a deceased centurion, who looked to have been laying there for quite a while. His head was missing, although she had a feeling the grotesque image of a lower jaw hanging on a loose string of neck flesh, with the eviscerated, gluey remains of a head pasted across the safety barrier he leaned against that still had steam hissing away from it from the plasma volley that had sealed his fate probably held the answer as to why. As it was, the centurion was also missing an arm, although the blackened, infected stump looked much older than it did recent...it had been inflected long before the final assault.

It didn't matter now anyway, and from the gold bars she saw on the centurion's shoulder, she could tell the dead soldier had been a high ranking officer, a battalion commander from what she could remember of human military ranks, and his death was just another boon on their side. Turning away from his mangled cadaver, she turned to see an even more gratifying sight.

Eight, very much dead, combat engineers. They were spread out over an uneven area of course, one of them missing both of his legs due to a well placed centaur round, while another had a clean hole blown through his chest. The others were an assortment of combat resolutions, but each one was dead, and that told Tali only one thing.

Their control over the bridge was weakened. Of course, there was nine engineers, and only eight of them were dead, which meant one remained, but that was enough for Tali to breach with relative ease. Dropping her shotgun to the ground and crouching, she quickly opened her omni-tool, bringing up the tab with the master bridge control display. Finding one signature, she quickly overrode it, kicking it out of the system, despite its best attempts to hold on. With full control returned to her, she hit the command to retract the bridge, turning to watch with glee as it pulled out and away from them to the bunker's side.

That should stop enemy forces from sneaking past us and getting into the base for now.

Closing her omni-tool and picking up her shotgun again, the quarian stood up as Kaidan called out to her, waving her over. Running up to him, he nodded, motioning towards the east, "Our forces are making a final push. With us on their rear, we'll have Cerberus sandwiched between the two of us. We'll make short work of them," he looked at the bridge, before turning back to her. Even through the helmet, she could tell he was grinning due to his tone, "Reassumed control of the bridge, did you?"

She nodded, "That won't be a problem anymore," she heard the sound of shuttles echoing overhead, along with the thrum of arriving Mantis gunships, but she knew immediately that it wasn't Cerberus. Wracking her shotgun one final time, she fixed Kaidan with a stare, followed by a nod, "I'm ready to end this. Let's show that bosh'tet our teeth."

The two of them looked up as red and white kodiaks appeared from the west, immediately banking down hard and lowering their thrust. Landing firmly in the courtyard, the shuttles wasted no time in deploying their complement. Talon resistance fighters: human, turian, krogan, asari, salarian, batarian...all of them filed out, rifles, shotguns and SMGs raised as they beat feet to meet the enemy head on. They cheered as they joined the geth juggernauts in their advance, glad to have such powerful monoliths of firepower helping them. The two gunships paid them no mind, simply whirling by and shooting away to close the pincer from the air.

The human and quarian marines turned back, darting up their stairs as they held their weapons with renewed purpose, any thoughts of hunger and exhaustion sent to the back of their minds. There would be time for that later.

Right now, they had a battle to win.

{Loading...}

August 6, 2186

0832 hours.

Eastern Esplanade, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega.

Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District.

Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, First Lieutenant Jack, Battalion Commander Urdnot Grunt, Lieutenant Bray, Lieutenant Nakmor Dreg, Lieutenant Sata T'Loak.

What had been a slow trudge through a well entrenched army was quickly turning into an organized rout.

It was quite comical. Several minutes ago, Cerberus aircraft had dominated the air, Cerberus artillery had been shelling the bunker with impunity, Cerberus troops were suppressing the defenders with non-stop waves of troops, and Cerberus mechs and armor had been bridging their flank to keep the UGC off of them. Everywhere you went, Cerberus had it all covered: long range, short range, above and below, north, west or east...everywhere you went, a golden hexagon and white and gold armor remained an almost omnipresent force. It was oppressive and entirely overwhelming, and had this been Taetrus a year ago, and Cerberus were the government forces, they'd have won by now.

All that had changed in just those few minutes. Geth dropships and fighter wings sliced through the pro-human aircraft like paper, knocking them out of the sky with well placed precision and deadly accuracy. The enemy artillery had been mopped up with radical ease, plasma vaporizing their SPGs and incinerating those that manned them. Those who had assaulted the bridge had suffered immense casualties, eventually repulsed altogther, only to be slaughtered by the counterattack. And the powerful mechs and armoured support that had held their flank so strongly, so valiantly and so impenetrably, were now gone, leaving their entire center gaping and vulnerable.

One by one, the pieces fell into place like a puzzle that had been figured out. Push after push, barrage after barrage, charge after charge, muzzle flash after muzzle flash...their slow advance quickly became faster and faster. Cerberus troops would retreat a few meters, hold position, hold back the UGC, and then eventually get pushed back...rinse, and repeat. The amount of enemy forces was almost endless, and their nearly invulnerable Atlas mechs and waves upon waves of mindless, programmable Rampart CQB mechs made it so the battle was a walk through tedium, but moment by moment, following the thud of every corpse, the pace of the battle got quicker, and with less and less warriors to man a formidable presence, Cerberus' lines was breaking.

Retreats became more frequent, more tangible. A retreat per minute became a rout per half a minute. The tactics were always the same: if the dragoons fell, the guardians would provide a buffer to keep the rachni back while the less defended troops retreat, and they would have cover from the armoured mechs all the way. With a lack of gunships to provide air support, it was the best they had: and since Cerberus had managed to destroy the last of the mercenary gunships on the UGC's side, it was now largely mutual. No air support for either side.

The tension was there...he could sense it was ready to snap. Soon, the enemy's lines would collapse completely, and they would have their victory.

A minute later, Garrus dashed into cover again. Hiding behind a deceased guardian, he propped his sniper rifle ontop of the soldier's corpse, taking aim at the back of the head of the furtherest retreating unit. Finding his sights lowered on a retreating combat engineer, he pulled the trigger, compensating for the recoil in his gun as a round left the chamber, reverbrating through his shoulder. His aim ever true, he pulled away, practically feeling the crack of the high caliber round breaking through the engineer's skull, body flopping to the ground like a fish out of water, only to cease movement immediately.

They had pushed them all the way back to the central courtyard now: the enemy regiment holding their eastern flank had long since been decimated, with the few hundred troops that had survived retreating back to regroup with the second enemy regiment, where they entrenched themselves for a last stand. He watched as they fell back behind the entrenched positions of the second regiment, who still looked surprised by the sudden turn of events.

He felt a presence beside him, and tensed up only to realize a second later who it was as they decloaked, their hooded figure lying prone beside him, her SMG picking out targets and shooting from afar. Turning for a moment, he saw Jack and her students making sure the enemy's retreat was messy and costly, constantly hassling them with biotic bombardments and fluid warp fields. Jack herself sent a cascading biotic shockwave straight down a line of guardians, sending them stumbling. Garrus took advantage, landing a round dead through one of their eyes, blasting his brains out. The other two were quickly dispatched by Blue Suns legionnaires. Jack's students were joined by rachni brood warriors, whose own biotics joined the cascade of Cerberus damnation.

The rest of the rachni held back, content to spray acid from afar and kill the few troopers who hadn't managed to escape their last, most recent, charge down their center line. Eclipse mechs were being reapproriated to support roles due to the losses they suffered, with one YMIR mech spraying machine gun fire and rockets where it could land a hit, with a major focus on the enemy's D-09 heavy units. Grunt's krogan commandos were coordinating with the Blood Pack to Garrus' right, making short work of the Rampart mechs approaching from that direction.

Seeing the situation in hand, Garrus tapped his comm, watching as Liara popped a singularity right next to a dragoon, watching as he and the two nemesi beside him were lifted into the air helplessly as their gravitational mass was lowered. A warp followed it a moment later, and he had to cover his eyes as the singularity detonated, vaporizing those caught in it, and in the immediate radius of the blast.

He was largely speaking on an open frequency to all UGC forces, not caring if Cerberus could hear him, but mostly he was contacting the defenders who were likely still at the main gate, "The cavalry has arrived!" He announced, causing Kasumi to stiffle a giggle beside him. He rolled his eyes, finding himself slightly at odds with using the human terminology, but found himself in too much of a buzz to give a fuck, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but...onward! Let's mop up the rest of this rabble and call it a day!"

Turning off the comm, he saw Kasumi looking at him, and just as he was about to ask her what she was looking at him for, she could only shake her head, and turn back to focus on the battlefield, "Seriously? Isn't it a little early to call victory, Garry?"

Ignoring the perversion of his first name, the turian put his eye to the scope of his rifle again, drilling another bullet through yet another soldier, this time a phantom. He watched the assassin's head snap back, dropping their sword to the floor. Reloading, he found a Rampart mech and blew its head off, the optics exploding with a blaze of sparks and torn circuitry before the mech fell to the ground, limp, "Hey, I had to get everybody's blood pumping. We can't be the only ones to do all the work. Besides, it's practically a victory already."

"Oh, practically," the thief exaggerated, tapping her head sarcastically, "What a silly little thief. It's practically a victory. Thanks for the correction."

Finding an open avenue to one of the four Atlases left defending the Cerberus entrenchments, he lowered his scope over the pilot and fired. He growled as he watched the round barely crack the cockpit, the bulletproof glass absorbing the shot. He fired another round into it, only for the crack to barely get any bigger. Giving up, he fired a third shot into a centurion, hoping to make up the difference, "Sometimes thieves needed to be put in their place. Leave military tactics to me, Goto."

Kasumi just laughed, holding out her omni-tool and priming her overload program. He watched as the shields of an assault trooper sizzled and popped, allowing her to pop several rounds through his chest, killing him. Reloading her submachine gun, she turned back to him, a massive grin on her face, "Oh, you wish you could put me in my place."

Garrus just laughed in return, not thinking about what he said next before it had already left his mouth, "Maybe I will someday."

Ergh. That was stupid, even for you Vakarian. And needlessly provocative.

The thief didn't seem to mind it, "Maybe you won't. It's a world of oppurtunities, bird brain."

"That's wonderously immature of you, Goto," Garrus quipped, popping a shot through the throat of an assault trooper, watching him gurgle and cough as he fell to the floor, trying to stop the blood leaking from his split neck, "Totally unbecoming of an adult."

Liara landed in a crouch to his right, perched on one leg as she deflected bullets and retaliatory dark energy attacks with her left hand and shot her predator pistol with the right, "Are you two quite finished? I was under the impression we had a battle to win."

"Well, sorry we have a social life, Shadow Broker," he snapped back snarkily, sniping a dragoon through the helmet, ending his life of harassing his asari friend, "And you're welcome."

Liara just laughed. Now no longer needing to swat aside biotic attacks, she formed a solid field infront of her, absorbing incoming projectiles while she continued to pop off shots at whatever she could get, "Careful, Garrus. I know what you like to calibrate most."

He gulped, looking up at the asari with an innocent look. How did she-oh, right. She's the Shadow Broker. All these months, and I'm still not used to that? Spirits, I was slow on that one. "Liara T'Soni, you are evil. Pure evil."

He didn't turn to answer her, ducking as a rocket detonated just a few meters infront of him, showering them with explosive debris. Once the smoke from the initial blast had cleared, he looked back up again, noticing Cerberus troops had deployed a smoke screen to try and cover their retreat. Pulling up his rifle, he quickly checked the chrono on his omni-tool, realizing it had been more than five minutes since he sent Aria and Nyreen to find Marcus. His eyes furrowed in worry, turning back as he switched the scope on his rifle to thermal vision. Turning back down, he fitted it to his eye, immediately finding the murky, bright red outlines of retreating troopers. Lowering his scope, the rifle once again bit into his shoulder as he pulled the trigger, watching as the targetted nemesis spun with the impact, the front part of her face completely sheared off.

They should be back by now...and where did he even go anyway? Why did he just leave without telling any of us?

"They should be back by now," Garrus muttered, tone now serious. Kasumi and Liara noted the change in tone, solemnly regarding his statement with the utmost focus, "It's been more than five minutes, and not so much as an update."

"They'll return," Liara prodded, "Just give them more time."

"Fine," the turian grumbled, embedding a bullet deep into the back of the skull of another combat engineer, decimating his scalp with devastating fury. His rifle clicking empty, he grabbed a fresh clip and reloaded it, shouldering it once more. As a sniper, the weapon was his beauty, and it fitted into the crook of his shoulder, scope fitting to his eye, like a glove crafted just for him, "But if they're not back within the next five minutes, I'm going out there myself. Marcus could be in trouble for all we know."

"I'll be the first to help you if that time comes," the asari declared, hand on his shoulder. The turian shrugged it off roughly, but more so than he had intended. He regretted the action, knowing it must have hurt Liara for him to do that, but he couldn't help it. His best friend, the man he considered a brother and a mentor more than a commanding officer, was stuck out there, disappeared, and they didn't even know what happened to him: what's worse is that he possibly just sent the commander of the resistance and Omega's ruler to their deaths in pursuit of him, further fucking things up.

He better be alright. If he's not...there'll be hell to pay.

"Me too," Kasumi whispered, gripping his shoulder tightly. For some reason, his first instinct wasn't to shrug her off, and he almost sunk into it if it wasn't for a bullet slapping into the corpse he hid behind, causing it to shake. Disturbed by the movement, he sprung back into battle mode, ignoring Kasumi's reassurances. Why her and not Liara? What made her doing the same thing more preferable?

Because you like it when she touches you.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes at the adolescent concept. Spirits damn me. I'm a victim to ridiculousness.

Finding a target, he brought his attention to one of the four Atlas mechs emerging from the smoke: in a surprising turn of events, they were now pressing the attack, somehow deluded into the thinking that they could somehow push the UGC back with just four D-09s. Behind them, five squads of Rampart mechs advanced, shotguns and SMGs echoing through the area as they returned fire at the UGC troops. Several Blue Suns fell, including the odd Eclipse merc, under the hailstorm of bullets and shotgun shells. The Atlases, whether armed with heavy machine guns, powerful cannons or ballistic missile launchers, made sure to obliterate anything that came near them.

It then clicked for Garrus. They were trying to break the stranglehold. Why do that if you have an avenue of escape directly to the west?

Because they don't. General Golo must have heard my message and taken the initiative. He's closed off their only avenue of escape, and with nowhere else to go, they hope to make a break out. Good. That'll leave them more vulnerable.

Gunfire pelted the mech's frontline, but only one of the Ramparts were even damaged by it, the upgraded LOKI mechs appearing to have surprising amounts of resilience. Their tech armor glowing intensely, they stomped forward with a sort of predatory instinct not entirely unlike that of a Geth Hunter, but without the cloak: approach slowly, while looking menacing and wielding a big, bad gun. In that aspect, Ramparts and geth hunters were one and the same.

He fired his rifle, watching it once again crack uselessly against the armoured glass cockpit of the first Atlas, the one he had targetted before to no avail. Realizing they'd need heavy weapons to have any hope of bringing it down, Garrus tapped his comm, "Grunt, get your heavies into position and target the left most Atlas. Shios, have your YMIR target it as well. I want whatever firepower we have focused on that Atlas. Bring it down."

With each stomp and tremor on the ground, the towering mech moved ever closer, its sights now focused on Garrus, Kasumi and Liara. Now rotated fully to face them, the mech stopped, left arm slowly poised to aim at them, heavy machine gun rotors spinning up as he prepared a delivery of armor piercing rounds. Widening his eyes, Garrus screamed for them to move, rolling out of the way as he did.

The guardian's corpse was chewed to bits as the gun opened fire, denting the metal deck and eviscerating his cover like a butcher did meat. The Atlas pilot trailed him as he rolled, but was largely inaccurate, and therefore the stream of bullets completely missed. Now exposed, Garrus holstered his Reaper rifle and pulled out his mattock, motioning for Liara to follow him, Kasumi having cloaked and retreated already. The two rushed off to the side to join Grunt's commandos, the krogan hounding the Atlas with shotgun and missile fire.

The Atlas' shields ruptured just as it was hit in the back with a siege pulse. Looking up, Garrus smiled as he saw two geth armatures on the rooftops, having now turned from the courtyard to fire down on the attacking Cerberus. The second armature also fired its siege pulse, this one striking the left arm of the heavy battle mech and disabling it, sparks flying from the useless appendage as it slid down to hang limply at its side. The pilot frustratingly turned to deal with the new threat, only for one final siege pulse to strike right amongst its exposed back, where it was less armoured.

The D-09 exoskeleton exploded violently, the entire top half of its torso erupting into a terrific, rolling column of fire. Its legs left unharmed, the rest of the ammunition inside exploded, shredding what was left of the mech, and killing the pilot if he wasn't already dead. A flaming wreck, the Atlas could only trip on its right leg, stumbling to one knee before slamming into the deck, a massive tremor shaking the whole area before settling. Despite this victory however, the other three Atlases were still operational, and half a squad of the Ramparts had been dispatched.

Smiling as he found fresh cover, Garrus motioned to the fallen Atlas, and began to sprint towards it, not waiting for the asari to answer. As he ran past however, he tapped one of the Blood Pack krogan, motioning for him to give the turian his M-100 Spiculum grenade launcher. Grumbling, the warrior shoved the weapon into Garrus' hands reluctantly. Holstering his rifle, he gripped the heavy weapon steadfastly as he made his way back towards the Atlas wreckage.

Sliding to a stop before it, he ignored the flames still pouring from it, licking at the side of its shattered torso and blackening the armor plating. The flames were producing intense heat, but Garrus didn't have time to worry about that or the smoke choking his lungs, as he now had a perfect position from which to flank and destroy the Atlases, one by one.

Of course, he hadn't bothered to notice the half squad of Ramparts advancing behind him until his shields burst with the impact of a shotgun blast. Grunting, he turned as the six of them moved towards him, firing at him with a rhythmic series of muzzle flashes. Just as he thought he might be fucked, he remembered the weapon in his hands, took aim with it, and fired directly at the middle mech.

Its tech armor was no match for the heavy concussive force of the Spiculum as it was thrown back, torn apart by the blast. The two immediatey flanking it were destroyed as well, with the arm of a fourth shredded and twisted into uselessness. He was about to kill the last three when they were sudden wrapped in biotic light and torn from the ground, lifted into the air majestically, before being ruthlessly thrust back to the floor, bodies' shattering like glass as they hit the ground, exploding.

He turned back, already knowing that it had been Liara who saved him. The asari smiled, although rolled her eyes at his antics as she crouched at his side, echoing his words to her from before, "You're welcome, Garrus." Noticing his heavy cough from all the smoke inhalation, she raised her hand to form a stasis field temporarily around the Atlas, focusing her energy on it for a few seconds until the flames had dissipated entirely. Lowering her hand, she didn't bother looking at him even as he nodded with impression, the flaming wreck no longer so much as flaming as it was blackened.

Nodding once again, he stood up in a crouch, positioning the grenade launcher on the top of the Atlas, taking aim at nearest mech. It was now far infront of him, slowly forcing the UGC back, but not by much. Eyes down range, he took aim, breathing becoming light as he focused entirely on his target.

Then Kasumi's voice filled the comm, "Garrus! Come in, Garrus! I know you can hear me!"

He sighed, annoyed at being interrupted, "Not now, Kasumi."

"Yes now," she insisted, "Aria and Nyreen are back, and they've got Marcus."

He widened his eyes, nodding to Liara to make sure she was hearing this. The asari nodded that she had, allowing him to turn back to the Atlas. Returning to his assigned task, he replied as he fired the first grenade into the Atlas' back, the two armatures having similar ideas as they too opened fire on his target, "Well? Is he alright?"

"Define 'alright', Garrus," Kasumi stated, sounding visibly disturbed, "He looks like he's been beaten fifty times over. He's been shot in the shoulder, has a broken arm and a broken nose, has several cuts on his face, and some bruising. From the sounds of it, Aria and Nyreen saved him just in the nick of time."

He fired a second and ethird grenade, complimenting the second and third salvos of the armatures respectively. Eventually, he watched with satisfaction as it went down, meeting the same fate as the Garrus was covering behind, exploding with a bright flash before simply slouching forward, crushing its pilot as it slammed into the deck, 'head first'. The rachni were surging forward now, having waited patiently for the Ramparts to close ranks before attacking. It seemed the little insect horde was quickly becoming a get out of jail free card, as their involvement always seemed to turn the tide of the battle, no matter what. They tore apart the mechs with a sort of precision that would be terrifying to see from Cerberus' point of view, slicing apart the war machines like they were nothing.

"So what the fuck happened?" Garrus demanded, lowering the grenade launcher down as both he and Liara sprinted from behind the Atlas to return to behind their lines. He needed to see Marcus, to ascertain for himself that what they were saying was true.

"You need to ask him yourself, Garrus. He's really angry. He hasn't said a word since he got back. He won't even answer my conditions with words, he just nods or grunts. I had to get most of what I know from Nyreen or Aria, and even they don't know all the details."

"I'll be right there," Garrus replied, switching off comms. The two sprinted until they finally reached their line again, now desperately searching through the ranks of UGC entrenchments to find their captain.

It didn't take long. He stood out like a sore thumb in his Terminus Assault armor. Garrus, tossing the grenade launcher to an awaiting Blue Suns trooper, turned back and landed in a crouch beside Marcus, not touching him for worry of hurting him or setting him off. He knew what Marcus was like when he was angry, and it wasn't something he wanted to indulge.

The human looked up at him for a moment, nodding mutely. Garrus nodded, unholstering his rifle. He waited a few moments, then he spoke, "Marcus, I need to know. Who did this to you?"

The N7 didn't answer, remaining ever silent, looking like complete shit. Having seen him for himself, he could tell the man had been through a rough few minutes, but his attitude wasn't helping. Frowning angrily, he leaned up, his faces inches from his. When Marcus still didn't answer, he shouted, frustrated that his friend wasn't talking, "Speak, damn it!"

Marcus finally spoke, his voice hoarse and sounding exhausted, "Leng and Randall. They lured me away from the battle...trapped me in a room. They had a combat engineer outside blocking my comms, so I couldn't contact anyone. They tried to kill me, but I held them off long enough for Nyreen and Aria to fight them off. The fuckers...they're on Omega. Garrus, Leng is on Omega..."

That caught the turian's attention, and filled him with rage as well, "You bloody fool. What the fuck were you thinking? You could have died! You should have had someone come with you!"

"I fucking know, alright!" the human spat back, pushing him back weakly with his left arm and wincing profusely in the process, "But he was right there. I needed to kill him! I so badly wanted to kill him! If I had waited for backup...he would have gotten away. I had no idea it was a trap...I was a fucking idiot, and I admit that. But what does it matter? I'm here, and Leng and Randall escaped. Shit's more fucking complicated now than a simple war."

"You're telling me!" More explosions as the last two Atlases made one final push, having nothing to lose now that most of their forces were on the run and would sacrifice themselves just to let the rest of their regiment escape. The turian winced as a particular explosion got too close for comfort, raining them with shrapnel that luckily didn't harm anyone. Sighing, he wiped his head, looking down at the N7, "We'll need to get you out of here..."

The N7 nodded, "No. You risk trying to get me out of here, and we'd have pointless casualties. I'll hang back here, do what I can with my left arm...I can still use it, it just hurts," Garrus fixed his brother-in-arms with a look of intense skepticism, feeling that the human, having several maimed appendages, was more of a burden than a help. Marcus noticed this, nodding lazily, "I know my limits, Garrus. I'm about as useful to you on the frontlines as a soldier with no arms...which is practically what I am right now. But I can still fire a pistol, and I'm not going anywhere. I'll leave you in command. You'll have run of the show."

The turian exhaled deeply, realizing he really couldn't ask much else of the UGC's consul. Keeping him out of the battle completely was going to be impossible, and the turian had to hold a smirk back at the thought. Although he couldn't help the one question he had hanging on his mind, largely regarding the limp, crippled nature of his right arm, "Are you sure its...broken?" he jabbed a finger at the appendage, "Cybernetics or no, you should be swimming in a pool of agony right about now."

Marcus looked at him, fixing him with a 'really?' look, and when the turian didn't relent, he just shook his head, motioning lethargically at the right arm as if he was entirely non chalant about it, "Garrus, believe me, my right arm feels like it's been smashed with fifty krogan warhammers right about now. Like it's been stomped by eight Atlases. Like it's been hit by a Reaper main gun...you get the fucking point. What I'm trying to say is...I'm in so much agony right now, I could potentially be dying and it would bring me greater fucking bliss. So...unless you'd like to question the validity of my broken arm, I'd enjoy a good 'ol shot of morphine, if you don't mind."

Satisfied, he motioned to Nyreen to do exactly that, the turian general nodding back as she crouched down, procuring the necessary medication. He turned back to Liara, prodding her shoulder. Once he had the asari's attention, he fixed her with an intense, almost pleading, stare, "You stay here and you keep him safe. I don't care what he says, this crazy lunatic would try and punch Harbinger with that arm if he could. Keep him out of trouble and, most of all, if Randall or Lieutenant Bastard Leng returns, keep them away from him and call for help. Whatever you do, keep him protected."

She smiled, hugging the turian tightly before pulling back, "We're all family here, Garrus. I'll protect him like he's my own blood."

He nodded with some respect, glad for the asari's comraderie, "Good to hear. Now, if you don't mind, we do have a battle to win."

Liara, falling into a crouch, could only chuckle.

Sharing a brief glance with the Alliance captain, who had now pulled out his Paladin pistol and was holding it with his left hand, Garrus rushed out, mattock rifle gripped between his talons, and moved towards Jack and her students. There, they had been joined by Aria, the ruler of the Terminus Systems joining their biotic bombardment with some of their own, looking like she needed to vent some stress of her own as her wraith shotgun, holstered, lay unused on her back, her body wreathing with liquid blue fire as she ensnared her enemies with biotic energy, ripping them apart at the atomic level and leaving streaks of blood and gore painting the floor.

Unfortunately, her latest tirade of anger was directed at the two Atlases currently focusing all their attention on her, Jack and the rest of Tango squad. Sata had since joined the mix as well, ignoring her mother's orders to stay put to engage in the fight secretly without her knowledge. Now that she knew, clearly, Aria didn't care, ignoring her disobedient daughter as she fought, realizing she couldn't possibly make her go back now that she was here. So with that in mind, the asari gripped her M-25 Hornet submachine gun like it was part of her, gracefully shooting rounds at whatever target she could feasibly kill. At her flank were Dreg and Bray, the krogan and batarian lieutenants respectively using their shotguns and rifles to provide covering fire while leading Aria's men.

Garrus quickly arrived at their side, watching as a Rampart mech closed the distance with Aria, firing its eviscerator shotgun at point blank, close enough to cause her kinetic barriers to pop. Angry, she moved to swat it aside with her biotics, only for the Rampart to strafe to the left, prepping its omni-blade at the same time. Bray noticed this and fired upon the mech to protect his commander, but his rifle fire pinged harmlessly off the back of its tech armor, the holographic armor plates absorbing his bullets effortlessly. Omni-blade in hand, it swung at Aria, who managed to duck under it in time before she was decapitated. The Rampart recovered quickly though, elbow shooting upwards to strike her in the face, causing her to reel back.

Garrus crouched and fired at it as well, and with his combined fire joining Bray's, its tech armor was quickly overwhelmed. The holo armor detonated loudly, the electromagnetic pulse bursting out from it and draining the shields of those around it, as well as causing their weapons to lock up temporarily. Luckily Terminus Assault Armor had electronic shielding and counter-electromagnetic warfare hardware, protecting his weapons and armor from EMPs. His weapon unharmed, he continued to pour fire into the Rampart.

But Aria had it all in the hand. Slamming a brutal, biotic uppercut into the mech's chest, she continued to send a flurry of fists flying into its face, shattering the glass of its optics, allowing her to smash them into oblivion. Unable to see, the Rampart was now helpless as she snatched the shotgun from its hands, and proceeded to empty the entire chamber into its torso. After the fact, the mech fell as a mangled contortion of its previous form, Aria angrily tossing the empty Cerberus shotgun away before stalking forward to join Jack, who looked on with some amusement.

Glad I didn't piss her off during my days as Archangel. Don't think I'd want her coming after me.

Even as he moved forward to grab an assessment from the asari pirate queen, Aria was already moving on, signalling to Jack for the powerful human biotic to join her, "You seem like a powerful girl, Jack! Follow me and let's deal with these fucking Atlases." It was clear the tedium of the battle's length was beginning to wear on the asari, who wanted a quick resolution to the engagement. She hoped to take down the last two D-09s, who were currently in the process of decimating an Eclipse squad, having already torn a Blood Pack boom squad asunder, the mutilated and disfigured corpses of vorcha and krogan left well behind them.

With this in mind, Aria unholstered her shotgun and prepared to charge one of the Atlases, but to Garrus' surprise, Jack spared Aria a mere glance...before beginning to chuckle. This gained the asari's attention, who turned to the laughing human with mild annoyance and a mixture of befuddlement and fury. "You think I'm joking? We're losing too many men to those mechs."

Jack simply shrugged, looking up at the huge, bolstered exosuits, "I didn't realize you were so impatient for this battle to end. I was content just blowing away these assholes piece by piece while the rachni did all the work, but if you really insist..."

Aria shook her head, turning back, "Just help me alread-"

Almost out of nowhere, Garrus watched with mixed parts of awe and trepidation as the Atlas the Terminus ruler had been targetting was suddenly coated in cobalt blue. Aria stopped as well, turning to Jack as they could see the human reaching out with one hand, almost lazily and nonchalantly, liquid, element zero power dancing off her fingertips to wrap the mech in cold, solitary confinement. The mech continued to move, as the biotic clearly hadn't used a stasis, although Garrus had a basic idea of what she was about to do. Aria, however, didn't, turning to Jack with a laugh.

"What are you going to do? Even I coul-"

Tired of listening to Aria's antics, Jack put all her visible effort into physically lifting the mech into the air, a second hand joining her first as they combined their power into the effort. Aria could only shut up and watch as the Atlas ceased all forward movement, its monstrously top heavy weight drastically lessened and leaving the ground, floating into the air in a slight, but noticeable, tumble. The pilot desperately tried to regain control of his war machine, but it was a useless endeavour: he was at the complete mercy of Jack.

Without waiting so much as a second longer, Jack suddenly lashed out. Whipping her hands to the left, she sent the lifted Atlas tumbling into the second, slamming into it with intense speed and momentum. The blue glowing leaving its form, its mass was returned to normal just as it touched the second Atlas. With all its weight returned, it crushed the second Atlas beneath it, causing the second D-09 to begin tumbling towards the building next to them. With a thunderous crash, they broke through the wall of the house beside them, smashing through at least two stories worth of rooms before the second Atlas came to rest on its side, pinned beneath the weight of the first one Jack had thrown ontop of it. They were left unable to get up as their sudden arrival caused the entire structure to collapse ontop of them, rubble exploding and raining down ontop of them.

By the end of the entire situation, the two Atlases were buried under an enormous pile of rubble, their pilots more than likely killed by the impacts of the two mechs colliding anyway. The result of the structure breaking down was a massive hole between the two buildings flanking it, a massive pile of rubble taking its place, while an avalanche of dust and smoke pummelled its way across the battlefield, shrouding it in temporary darkness.

Garrus could only smile as the smoke and dust cleared, revealing the retreating Rampart mechs, who were withdrawing due to the dent in their numbers and the fact that their heavy armor was now completely decimated. He raised his rifle and fired on the nearest one, downing it, while aiding a trio of rachni soldiers in taking down another armed with only an omni-blade. It managed to kill one of the soldiers before it was overwhelmed by the other two, a shot from his mattock to the head downing it for good. He was taking aim at another, joining the UGC forces in pushing back, as he heard Aria, recovering from her surprise, addressing Jack with what was clearly an impressed tone.

"Jack, Jack, Jack," she stated, voice full of surprise and amusement, "Why didn't I recruit you before? We could have worked very well together..."

The psychotic biotic didn't answer as the UGC and OLF troops began to retake all the ground they had been steadily losing, trampling over dead Rampart mechs until they reached the area where the two, destroyed Atlas mechs were. The Ramparts were falling like flies, one squad decimated by a combined onslaught from the geth armature duo on the rooftops. Eventually, Garrus put the bullet in the last Rampart, marking the end of Cerberus' mech power. With nothing but troops left and no mech support, Garrus and Aria ordered their respective forces forward, storming the Cerberus lines.

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August 6, 2186

0850 hours.

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

Second War for Omega.

General Oleg Petrovsky, Colonel Connor Amish.

The statistics weren't looking good. Even without looking at the battlefield readouts and real-time tactical data, Petrovsky already knew the battle was a loss. The look on Amish's face from the few glances he gave the man told the full story that he had read quite well, and in this particular chapter, Amish looked pale, hands gripping the edge of the table with a sort of devastation few victorious commanders would ever exhibit.

So the General didn't need to look at the readouts. He needed to only look at Amish to know what he already knew. The Tuhi assault was a colossal disaster.

He had remained silent in his personal war room for most of the siege, allowing Amish to direct operations personally. His strategy had been well thought out, and Petrovsky had to applaud him on his quick thinking. Any other commander would have left their flanks totally unsecure, allowing themselves to believe that the distinct lack of an obvious second entrance would force the UGC into a linear, one-sided attack. Instead, Amish had correctly predicted Shepard's actions and redeployed the 8th regiment facing east, where they were more then ready for the UGC relief force. Had it not been for unforeseen events, he may have succeeded in repelling the attempted pincer tactic.

But then Petrovsky had come down to inspect the operations himself, and he was not pleased with how things had progressed. It had appeared Amish had neglected to coordinate with Majors Ezno and Ruth, thus leading to major miscommunication. Troops pointlessly sacrificed trying to take a bridge? Geth troops being allowed to deploy and outflank the 6th? The 8th's re-coordination being down without approval of the 6th, and leaving them totally in the dark? His air forces picked from the sky due to faulty intelligence regarding UGC air strength?

He didn't need to ask. He had silently stood beside Amish at the war table, who had become more and more paler as he realized where the situation was heading. Attempts to salvage it were met with futility: the 8th's commanding officer was killed in a rachni counterattack, something of which they were completely unaware of, and due to the chaos of the battle, transferral of command to the next highest ranking was impossible...as the 8th didn't even know their commander was dead.

It didn't help that Ezno and Leng had disappeared off the grid, only for Ezno to contact him later, informing him that he was cut off from his troops and unable to link up with them. Luckily, transferral of command for the 6th was much easier due to them being better prepared, but Lieutenant Colonel Adams' death had made things even more complicated.

But he asked anyway. Hands clasped behind his back in parade rest, he turned to Amish, asking the dreaded question, "What is the situation?"

Amish tensed up, shakily licking his lips. The man looked as if he had seen a ghost, and he had understood why. The Illusive Man didn't broker failure, and the loss of a battle so colossal in scale would no doubt send ripples up the command chain so high in intensity, that examples would be made. After all, the commander behind the Eden Prime debacle had been thoroughly 'punished', and Amish, understandably, didn't want to suffer the same fate. Gulping, he answered, "The...the 8th regiment's...gone. It's been wiped out. Reports from the 6th state that once the rachni closed ranks...it was a massacre. Couldn't even be considered a battle. They were wiped out in minutes. As for the 6th...the situation grows more dire every second."

The numbers were staggering, the losses even more so. But Petrovsky didn't relent. He needed to know every detail, "What of their predicament? What is the possibility of salvaging a victory from this?"

Amish sighed, sweat beginning to collect on his head. Cold, relentless sweat. He grabbed a handkerchief, folded it neatly, and wiped it gently from his temple, "Very...low. What's left of our air forces dedicated to the battle are gone, our artillery's gone, and all the Atlas and Rampart mechs dedicated to it are...gone. Nothing. They're surrounded on all sides...they've got Shepard's unit from the east, UGC troops counterattacking from the west...aided by what appears to be additional Talon reinforcements that we didn't foresee coming. They're...completely trapped with the enemy closing the gap every second."

Petrovsky shook his head, regarding the screen once more. There was barely four hundred troops left of the 6th, and those numbers were quickly dwindling. With the odds packed against them...victory was completely impossible outside of a miracle: not even Petrovsky himself could betray those numbers. The second round goes to you, Shepard. Well done.

He turned to Amish, nodding, "Very well. Have what's left of your troops pull out and retreat. The battle is lost."

The colonel didn't acknowledge him for a second, simply wiping his head again, "No...I can...if I could just have the 7th and 9th move to reinforce...perhaps we could-"

The General wouldn't have anymore of it. Let it go. Do not hold onto your pride. As calmly as he did, he verbally put his foot down, not willing to hear anymore, "I will not lose any more soldiers to this debacle...you've done your best, colonel. Now get those troopers home. They've fought hard, and now they deserve rest."

Unwilling to hear anymore, he turned and left the command center, marching up the steps until he was back in his war room. He stopped in the middle for a moment, exhaling the great amount of breath he had been holding in, before turning to his chessboard. With a sigh, he moved over and grabbed one of Shepard's bishops, moving it over until it knocked aside one of his own. A second bishop moved in...taking out one of Petrovsky's pawns. He stepped back, regarding the chessboard, and the significant advances the man had already made. Turning back, he moved to his desk, typing up on the terminal and bringing up a holographic interface on Omega's schematics over it.

He zoomed in on the Rubicon quadrant, and regarded it closely. He knew now that attacking Aria's bunker head on had been foolish, especially regarding what little information Leng had provided. It appeared his knowledge had been severely limited, and that the omission of rachni and geth troops, as well as enemy aircraft, had spelled doom for Amish's army. He would not make the same mistake again, especially since it costed them two entire regiments.

Finding a large communal center in the middle of the quadrant, he zoomed in on it, eyes narrowing to look at it closely. In the few seconds he had to analyze it, he realized it was perfect for staging their next assault. Evacuating Rubicon would be inevitable...he wouldn't be able to contain the UGC threat without first pulling out all civilians. But once he did...his second major offensive would be pitted here. This time, he knew exactly what to expect, and how to counter it.

Studying it astutely, he realized the communal center was wide enough for Marcus' host to pass through, but the skyscrapers were too tall for his aircraft to provide air support: that limited Petrovsky as well, but he had a way around that. Every entrance and exit possessed a force field, therefore reinforcing his strategy. In just a few short minutes, he had thought it through.

He would stage a new attack along this communal district. With a wave of Ramparts, he would faint a fake assault through the center, and make sure Marcus saw it: he hoped the plan would work much like the famed Operation Fortitude in Earth's Second World War, where the Germans were successfully fooled into committing to offensives against dummy invasions, diverting attention away from the real threat. Marcus would try to get the jump on him this time, and attack with the bulk of his force. Once the trap was set, he would activate the force fields, trapping them within that area and with no avenue of escape.

In actuality, Petrovsky would have the majority of his artillery positioned in semi-circle around the communal hub, and once they were trapped, they would begin shelling of the area. With this in place, he would have his own army, likely a force of 20 to 30,000 men, coming in from all angles, surrounding and crushing them. While this occurred, a special forces team, consisting of Cerberus' veteran Shadow Force, would infiltrate the bunker with an antimatter explosive, detonating it deep inside the base after exfiltrating. Their sheer force of numbers, coupled with no access to the air support they used with impunity, and the artillery thinning out their rachni and krogan horde, would ultimately be the UGC's demise on Omega.

Petrovsky was confident this plan could work, and he saved it, codenaming it Operation Invincible. With this plan in mind, he closes the hologram and returns outside, marching down the steps until he had rejoined Amish, "Order the 7th and 9th to form a defense perimeter around the Rubicon quadrant, and to begin evacuating the entire Rubicon quadrant. I want those districts emptied of civilians before the end of the day," finished, he enquired on the status of his retreat, "Has the 6th pulled out yet?"

Amish shook his head, hanging it low, "Sir...there is no 6th. Talon forces cut off their retreat. They barely had time to react. Coupled between angry krogan and rachni hitting your rear, and Talons catching them in a crossfire upfront...they never stood a chance. The 6th is finished."

Silence for a moment, before Petrovsky cleared his throat, "I see." Four thousand troops...all of them dead. These are unacceptable losses indeed. No doubt Colonel Amish will be thoroughly demoted when this is over, if he's that lucky. But there is no point in pondering the future unless we preserve it. The loss of each battle increases the expectations of success upon the next much higher. Invincible cannot fail. Not this time.

"I have a new plan in motion to put a stop to this," the General announced, gaining the attention of the other three colonels in the room, "Operation Invincible will be ready for you to analyze at your own discretion. Suffice to say, this devastating defeat will serve as a stiff reminder of the danger we face, and that we must remain strong. Because of this, I am personally raising the Threat Level on his station to Critical. I will be assuming personal command of all Cerberus forces on Omega, effective immediately."

If I must drag us to triumph, I will. There can be no going back. Omega must remain ours or it will be lost to that asari tyrant forever. I will not allow Omega's people to suffer that again. Not while I can stop it.

Amish didn't seem to object, simply nodding meekly, "Understood, sir. I'll...have the 7th and 9th carry out your orders. Evacuation will begin in minutes."

He will be the first governor to lose his quadrant on Omega, but hopefully the last. He will recover. Although I'm not sure his career in Cerberus will. Nodding his head, he turns directly to Wchest, gaining his attention by walking over to him. The colonel immediately straightened and snapped a salute. He seemed to understand what Petrovsky wanted through a simple look, but he didn't smile when it came down to it whatsoever, "You want me to bring all my regiments from standby to full battle readiness?"

The General nodded, "Yes, and I want you to spread them out across the Hudson and Styx quadrants. I want a firm crack down on Talon activities, and I want you to find their headquarters post haste. I am placing Operation Darksword back into effect, and I'm placing the priority of weeding out the resistance with due persistence. Their recent pledge of support to the UGC is a concerning development, and one that cannot be allowed to continue. Find their headquarters, crush the Talons. Deprive the UGC of their thorough knowledge of the land. This I entrust to you completely, Colonel Wchest. Do not disappoint me."

Wchest saluted once more, nodding, "Yes, sir. I won't. My men will not disappoint. We'll find the Talons wherever they may lurk and pluck them out, root and stem. After all, fighting them is no different to fighting UIS...and I've got plenty of experience dealing with their lot."

He returned the salute, providing the man a firm nod of approval, "Hence why I chose you for the job, colonel. Carry on. I want status reports by the hour."

Turning and walking away, he could only listen as alarms began to blare across the command center, lighting turning from the vibrant, casual color to a dim, aggressive red that signified their battle conditions. Men and women rushed about the CC with hurried and busied demeanour, carrying out his orders at break neck pace.

It was finally dawning on the Dyuko District that they were now truly at war.

"Seems like quite a triumph...but if records on Operation Invincible are true, then why did the operation never go ahead? It doesn't match up."

- Reia'Inas pav Earth.

"Simple. We never rushed out to meet him. We had other plans on how to deal with Petrovsky, and I don't think he truly expected us to be that ballsy."

- Marcus L. Shepard.

"Keelah, I didn't think we could get much crazier. I was wrong."

- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.

A/N:

I know what you're thinking. Another LONG ASS CHAPTER!? Well, hopefully that does it, because the Battle of the Tuhi District is effectively over. It'll be back to conversations and the occassional gunshot for a bit. If you're asking if I'm going to follow the Omega DLC verbatim, I'm not...which means anything could happen next. Guess you'll just have to find out...

Until then,

Keelah Re'lai, troopers!