I'll Find You
Chapter 6: Destruction (Phase 3)
Samara's knees buckled as three Brutes hammered away at her shield. Ripples ran up and down the azure orb with each strike but the defense held strong. Incendiary shots from the commando squad at her flank struck the monstrous krogan-turian fusions, peppering their thick hides with small embers. From the lack of pause in the monsters' blows, Samara could tell that the commandos' efforts had no lasting effect. It did however, manage to catch the interest of one Brute, which immediately ceased its blunt offensive against Samara and charged towards the eight commandos. Already their commander, Inara, ordered her commandos to fall back and signaled for suppressing fire. Samara shifted her gaze to the beam in the distance. Falling back was not an option. The justicar took a breath and mentally called upon what was left of her biotic reserves.
Her body became saturated in the azure energy, bringing the wayward Brute's attention back to her. It charged her flank while the two in front of her raised their massive limbs ready to smash her to bits. They never had the chance to finish their attack. Samara thrust out her hands, unleashing the massive reserves of her power. For the briefest of moments blue light was all anyone could see in no man's land. When the light faded, Samara dropped to her knees with the bodies of three Brutes and a sizable crater before her.
"Are you injured commander?" she asked her fellow asari.
Commander Inara gulped, failing to suppress her awe. "We're all fine, ready for the next push."
Samara nodded, already feeling her strength return. "Excellent, we haven't time to waste."
The small squad replaced their thermal clips and moved further down no man's land to the pristine beam that overtook the London skyline. Several hours had passed since the initial blast from the Crucible and the battle on the ground had taken a significant turn in their favor. Areas that had previously been overwhelmed were able to regain their offensive momentum which enabled them to retake key positions. The allied forces had eliminated five destroyers around London's perimeter, which allowed much needed air support to reach the surface of the battle. Samara had been a part of the destruction process. With the aid of three STG agents and a krogan battler master, they eradicated two destroyers before they were ambushed by five Banshees. With her advanced biotic abilities, Samara had been able to ward off the initial attack. Her squad mates were not so fortunate. It had taken the justicar two hours to finish off her attackers.
She had been en route to regroup with the main force when she encountered Commander Inara's squad. Or rather, what remained of her squad. They had been in charge of giving Hammer squad air support but Harbinger shot down their ships in a matter of seconds. On his run to the beam, Shepard had stopped to help Inara pull out some of her squad mates before telling her to fall back. The asari commander had seen Shepard reach the beam but never saw him return. Samara was beginning to fear the worst. She doubted someone of Shepard's caliber needed her assistance, especially this close to the very end but she could not deny her apprehensive feelings. If nearly a millennium of life had taught her one thing it was that her instincts often had some merit of truth to them. At the very least, reaching the beam would provide her the opportunity to complete whatever business Shepard left undone, if her feeling of dread was indeed correct.
Samara turned to the commander. "Let us continue forward."
"Copy that," Commander Inara replied.
"Ma'am!" one of the commandos exclaimed. "We have a bogey incoming. One target it looks like. Humanoid."
"A husk?" the Commander asked, readying her assault rifle.
"Doubtful," Samara replied as her biotic barrier flared around her. "A single husk rarely attacks on its own."
"Another mutated asari?"
Samara shook her head again. "We would have heard screeching by now."
"So what are we dealing with here, justicar?"
"It would appear we're about to find out."
Smoke and debris obscured Samara's vision but the radar on the commando's omni-tools painted a clear enough picture. Their target was single figure with a humanoid heat signature moving on foot, judging from the slow and steadiness of its pace. It didn't take long for the target's silhouette to come into view through the smoke and dust. Samara squinted, able to make out the outlines of armor and a rifle in the target's hand. A very old rifle with countless scotch marks dotted around its frame. Samara lowered her barrier as the faded yellow of the target's armor began to stand out among the gray of no man's land.
"Identify yourself!" Commander Inara exclaimed. Her assault rifle aimed straight at the approaching target's heart.
"Commander, lower your weapons, this is no threat," Samara said.
"How do you know for sure?" the Commander asked, her eyes not leaving the silhouette.
"If I were a threat Jessie would have shot your narrow blue asses right between the eyes. She's a bloodthirsty bitch, after all."
"Zaeed Massani," Samara identified, immediately recognizing his guttural voice tainted by how many decades worth of cigarettes and cigars.
The mercenary veteran emerged from the rubble, his beloved assault rifle cradled in his arms, with a cigar nestled between his lips. If it weren't for the copious amount of blood and carnage that was plastered around his armor, Samara would have believed the human mercenary was in the middle of leisurely stroll on his off hours.
"Samara," Zaeed nodded. "Should have known these goddamn bastards weren't enough to send you to the grave."
"The same can be said of you," Samara said, approaching her former squad mate. "Though I am curious as to what brings you this far out from the main force."
"Bah, ever since that blast of goddamn space magic, these Reaper bastards have been cannon fodder for me and the boys. That must've gotten to those idiots' heads though. Next thing I know, they're chasing down a bunch a husks only to run into three of those mutated asari bitches."
"I see," Samara said. "How did you manage to evade them?" She had seen firsthand, both on Earth and on Lesuss, how vicious and persistent, the mutated asari were.
"I got lucky. While they were busy tearing up my squad, I found one of those M-560 Hydras lying around, figured the bastard who dropped it didn't find much use for it. I threw every damn grenade I had and fired that thing. Some of the boys were still partially alive, but given the choice of getting blown up or getting torn apart by a bunch of mutated bitches, I'd choose the former. They probably felt the same, I think. Not like they had much say in the matter anyway."
"How…noble of you, Zaeed," Samara managed.
Zaeed shrugged, either ignoring or unaware of her discomfort and confusion. "Once their ashes settled I went to regroup with the main force, but I figure I made a wrong turn somewhere. How anyone can find their way in this shit-hole now is anyone's guess."
"I'm sorry to interrupt, justicar," Inara said. "But we need to reach that beam before Reaper reinforcements arrive."
"What's with the fan club?"
"Asari Commandos," Samara said. "Shepard saved them during his run to the beam and I believe they wish to return the favor."
Zaeed spat out his cigar and reached into his belt for another. "The entire galaxy is going to shit and Shepard still finds time to play the big goddamn hero, figures."
"You are welcome to join us if you so desire, Zaeed."
"Works for me, beats having to report back to that loudmouth turian general Hackett stuck me with. Build bridges he said. Goddamn annoyance, I said."
"I am positive the admiral appreciated your honesty."
"Muttered something about disrespectful mercs, but as long as he keeps my fee, we have no problem."
"Assuming banks and credit chits are still in existence after this war," Samara said as she started the long trudge to the beam.
Zaeed scoffed behind her while the commandos fell into step. "Credits aren't the only form payment I accept."
Samara was tempted to ask what else the admiral could offer that a hardened mercenary like Zaeed would accept in lieu of credits. But as her eyes caught sight of the beam on the horizon, the question evaporated from her lips. There were far more pressing matters to concern herself with. She turned to the small group she had inadvertently formed and could not help but be reminded of her days on the Normandy hunting the Collectors. It was an odd thing to consider a suicide mission with a squad filled with unstable elements, to be one of the happier times in her long lifetime. But Samara could not deny the truth. She could not help but notice that the war had made her oddly sentimental, a characteristic that a justicar could not afford in times of war. But rather than become the distraction her masters always claimed it would be, her fond memories of the frigate and her unorthodox crew gave her a new zeal that carried her through her battles. Samara could only conclude that despite her words to Shepard of being prepared for death in this war, she wanted to live. Live to see her daughter and her former squad mates again. Live to see the peace Shepard and others had fought so long and so hard for.
It was a selfish notion, no doubt derived from her recent reunion with Falere and the Normandy crew. But she had seen what this desire to see loved ones had done for Shepard. Perhaps in this one instance, she would allow herself this selfish wish. The pristine beam loomed over them and only legions of Reapers stood in their way of peace.
By the Justicar Code, those obstacles would be eliminated, Samara would see to that with all her power.
"Let's move."
OOOOOOO
"Clear the hallway!" Miranda exclaimed over a storm of boots pounding on the metallic floor. Her order was met at first with surprise but the moment bystanders caught sight of her sprinting down the hall with four medics and two marines at her heels carrying a stretcher, they quickly complied. It also helped that the body they carried was Commander James Shepard, the biggest VIP in the galaxy, and it was her job to ensure he made off the Crucible. And she always did damn good work. But Shepard was not her only priority. Despite the evacuation being ninety-five percent complete, as she scanned the hallway she still saw a good deal of scientists and researchers drumming away on datapads or omnitools, a final attempt to save their data, if Miranda had to guess.
She rushed passed a group of salarian scientists discussing how to properly contain their dark matter samples. The former operative could barely hide her frustration. Were they not aware how close the Crucible was to releasing its energy?
"What the hell are you six doing?" she shouted over her shoulder, startling the group of scientists out of their discussion.
"These dark energy samples need proper containment and we need to copy these files Ms. Lawson," the first salarian said. "With the right tools we can-"
"Forget about that!" Miranda said, allowing the stretcher to pass her, and rushed over to them. "Get to an escape shuttle now."
"You don't understand!" the second exclaimed. "Working on the Crucible, we've made a significant breakthrough for dark energy applications. We can't afford to just leave it behind to become space dust."
Miranda took a breath resisting the urge to just knock out the six of them and drag them to the nearest escape shuttle. It would save their lives, but cause them to forever resent the former Cerberus Operative who dragged them kicking and screaming from their precious research. The last thing she needed was more people who held a grudge against her. That line could already span a good portion of the galaxy.
"I do understand," Miranda said as gently as she could. A struggle she hoped was not too evident on her face. "You've done something most people said would be impossible and you're afraid if you don't save every scrap of data, you won't be able to replicate it. Believe me; I've gone through the same thing with most of my projects."
"That why we have to stay until we know for sure the data has been replicated to our omni-tools," the third salarian said, already going back to work. Miranda glanced down at the progress bar and saw the data was only at twelve percent completion with about hour until it was finished. They didn't have an hour.
Miranda pulled his wrist away from the tool. "But is it really worth your lives? The breakthrough you've made here is notable, but it's replaceable. Are you really willing to give up the chance to see your children grow? Or see the peace you've had a hand in making, all for row of code on an omni-tool?"
The salarians glanced at each other, digesting her words. Miranda could not resist tapping her foot against the floor. She wished that the much touted "quick minds of the salarians" would come to a conclusion a bit faster. Neither the Reapers nor the Crucible was going to wait for them to come to such an obvious decision. Thankfully, the six deactivated their onmi-tools.
"Which way to the nearest shuttle Ms. Lawson?" the first salarian asked.
"An asari frigate is helping to evacuate some scientists on the third deck. If you hurry you'll be able to catch them," Miranda said. "I'll radio ahead and let them know you're on your way."
"Thank you, Ms. Lawson, my brothers and I won't forget this."
Miranda watched them scamper away with an odd feeling of satisfaction building within her. Despite her affection for Shepard, she had often been critical of his habit of going off mission parameters to help random bystanders, such as an asari who lost a locket, or scrounging the Citadel for a credit chit to spare a quarian girl the harassment of an irate volus. But seeing those grateful smiles on the faces of the salarians gave her something she couldn't describe.
A sudden rumbling of the floor and the sight of several cracks streaming across the ceiling broke the operative out of her altruistic thoughts. She would have to play psychoanalyst on herself another time. Miranda flipped on the display monitor on her onmi-tool for a status on the Crucible.
The core had reached seventy-five percent maximum input.
Miranda grimaced. They had less time than she thought. She watched as around the hallway thirty to fifty scientists, technicians, and other personnel scrambling to save as much equipment and data as they could. Meanwhile, Harbinger and thirty other Reapers were hammering away at the Crucible, despite Sword's best efforts to keep them occupied. At this rate the Crucible would reach one hundred percent input capacity with some of its crew still inside. And when it fired…there wouldn't even be a hair or scale left for their next of kin to bury.
Firing the turrets mounted on the Crucible had bought them some time by firing back the pent up Reaper energy. But the input was far greater than the output. By Miranda's calculations at most they had thirty minutes. Thirty minutes, how much could be done in thirty minutes?
"Ms. Lawson," the asari doctor behind her said. "We have a problem!"
"What is it?"
"The geth ship originally planned to extract Commander Shepard was caught in that last blast from the Reapers. But Councilor Quentius has made contact offering one of his ships for extraction. He's sent a message saying 'to make up for past failures.' Does that mean anything to you ma'am?"
"Quite a bit actually," Miranda said. "What kind of ship? How many will it be able to fit?"
"A frigate is all he can afford to send ma'am," the doctor replied. "He said that he needs the rest of his ships to cover the eventual retreat. The ship is fully staffed. Only the medical station has enough room for Commander Shepard and the doctors you have assigned to his care ma'am."
Miranda could only nod. "Go with the Commander then. Make sure he stays alive."
"But, what about you ma'am?"
Miranda's fingers already flew to her omni-tool communicator. "There's still a good portion of the Crucible staff still aboard. I can't leave until I make sure they all make it out safely."
"But ma'am…."
"This is not a discussion doctor!" Miranda snapped. "Go now and make sure Commander Shepard gets the proper medical care, do you understand? I'll join you at the rendezvous point if I am able. Now go!"
The asari nodded dejectedly. "Yes ma'am."
Miranda could only watch as the asari and the rest of the medical team took hold of the stretcher and approached the airlock. Her eyes were caught on Shepard who was as still as a corpse. She could not deny the part of her that wished to be at his side till the very end. She wanted to watch over every aspect of the transfer to ensure that everything went smoothly. But she would not be able to look at Shepard in his eyes and tell him that she left hundreds of people here to die while she played nurse. He would never forgive her. And she would never forgive herself either.
A notification tone chimed on her omni-tool, signifying that the access port was connected. The air lock door slid open and Miranda stole one last glance at Commander James Shepard before he disappeared behind the doors. At the very least, he was safe. Miranda took a breath before activating her communicator.
"This is Miranda Lawson to the Sharblu, does anyone copy?"
Static and the distant sounds of explosions were Miranda's only reply. The operative could feel her stomach twist. The Sharblu was the ship that had docked to evacuate the scientists on the third deck. The same deck, she sent the six salarian scientists. But before her dread could fully rise, a voice hindered by the vast array of static chimed through her tool. Miranda quickly went through her settings panel to clear up the transmission.
"I repeat this is Huntress Falina, Ms. Lawson, do you copy?"
"I copy huntress," Miranda replied. There was heaviness in the huntress's voice, she noted. Her words came out in between several pants and pauses as she tried to catch her breath. Miranda could only conclude that Falina had been scrambling on the ship to keep everything together under heavy fire.
"What's your situation?" the fatigued asari said. "Ensign put out those fires immediately!"
"By my estimation there are still one hundred and thirty five Crucible staff members still on board. They need immediate extraction before the retreat is sounded."
Another powerful quake struck the deck and the cracks began to break off like a river into smaller streams. Miranda brought up the status bar for the Crucible. Eighty-six percent. They were out of time.
"I repeat, the remaining staff needs immediate extraction! There are whole families here!"
"I understand Ms. Lawson, but the Sharblu is under heavy fire!" Falina said. "We've lingered an extra nine minutes to pick up six more salarians and got hammered! We can't wait for another one hundred and thirty!"
Miranda let out a grunt. That was expected. "Very well. Get your crew to safety."
"Rodger that and good luck Ms. Lawson."
The transmission flickered out, leaving Miranda with a sense of dread that only seemed to be growing with each passing moment.
"Damn it, we're cutting it too close," Miranda said under her breath as she attempted another hail. But an incoming transmission cut her attempts short.
"This is Admiral Hackett," the aged soldier's voice rang out through every onmi-tool and transmitter on the Crucible and ships within Sword. "All ships, the Crucible is about to fire. I am ordering a full retreat to the nearest mass relay! I repeat, all ships fall back immediately!"
Shit! Miranda wanted to cry out, but clamped down on her lips, nearly biting through the flesh in the glanced over at the crew members still scrambling, several with children in tow. Within their eyes Miranda could see the growing fear. She saw them increase their grip on their parents. She saw the parents' attempts at reassuring platitudes to console their children. Platitudes that they themselves did not believe.
Miranda gripped the sides of her skull as if trying to keep her brain together. There had to be a way. Shepard could always find a way, she could too.
"This is Miranda Lawson," she said into her communicator, hoping her fear did not dip into her voice. "All ships, there are still some stragglers aboard the Crucible. We need immediate extraction before the retreat."
Through the static countless commanders stated their regrets that they could not afford to swing back for them. Either they were under too much fire, too far away to reach them, not enough space, or it would leave them vulnerable. Miranda slammed her fist into the wall. But it was as she expected. In the grand scheme of things what were they compared to the rest of the galaxy? No captain would risk their ships and their crew to save former Cerberus operatives and no name scientists. Their deaths would be deemed as a necessary sacrifice to end the Reaper threat once and for all. If they were mentioned in the history vids at all. No, in truth the ninety-five percent evacuation would be held up front and center for all to see. That would be what future generations would remember. Their names would be an asterisk, something glossed over in the end. She was sure Hackett would ensure they received hero funerals but that was of little comfort.
She was tempted to just switch off her communicator and just wait for the inevitable when a soft but strong voice rang out from the static.
"This is Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard of the SSV Kilimanjaro; we read you Ms. Lawson and are swinging back for any stragglers aboard."
Miranda paused unable to comprehend the elder Shepard's statement at first.
"Ms. Lawson do you read?"
"Yes, I read you Rear Admiral Shepard," Miranda said quickly before the connection could fizzle out. "I'm sending you the coordinates now. Is your ship able to hold all one hundred and thirty five passengers?"
"It'll be a tight fit," Admiral Shepard said. "But we'll make it work."
"Thank you Admiral," was all Miranda could say though she wished she had more than such an empty phrase to offer the courageous elder Shepard.
"All part of the job, Ms. Lawson."
As the connection ended, Miranda could only chuckle under her breath. She had never been one to believe such things, but it seemed the higher powers had a very odd sense of humor. She only hoped that whatever so-called higher power was watching them wasn't as fickle as she had always been lead to believe. She connected her communicator into every speaker on the Crucible; no one was going to be left behind on her watch.
"This is Miranda Lawson, to all Crucible staff members; the SSV Kilimanjaro is en route for our extraction. Reaper fire is heavy and the retreat has been sounded, we do not have time to linger. Your lives and the lives of any family members aboard are your priory, leave everything else behind. Stay on this frequency for further instruction. If we stick together and keep our heads, we will live to see the end of this nightmare. Stand strong and more importantly, stand together."
She ended the transmission and could only hope that Shepard's habit of pulling off the impossible had rubbed off on her as well. She opened the progress bar for the Crucible core.
Ninety two percent.
Scratch that, she didn't need Shepard's luck.
She needed a bloody miracle.
OOOOOO
The much touted beam was just as monstrous at close-range as it was from a distance. Under different circumstances, Samara noted, the beam would have been a marvel of science and engineering. Not only was the energy of the beam somehow self sustaining without aid from any mass effect field but the sheer precision of the energy as it shot upwards without disturbing the environment around it would baffle even the most advanced minds in the galaxy. The source of the energy was also impossible to know. In all likelihood it derived from a Reaper but using what kind of equipment? And how were the Reapers able to control it? Samara had never been one for technical matters; however she surmised that any life form would wish to become an engineer if they stared at this structure for far too long.
But all it took was a single glance at the ocean of corpses that laid in the wake of the beam to be reminded of the true purpose of this miraculous technology. Samara had been on battlefields countless times before but the carnage that was presented to her went far beyond any of her past experiences. The ground was slick with the blood of the countless soldiers. Damaged equipment, thrashed Mako trucks, and hundreds upon thousands of limbs and other remains littered the battlefield. The wide open eyes of the few intact soldiers stared up at the justicar, their final shriek of fear, permanently etched onto their faces. The burning odor of inflamed bodies already consumed the air. The remaining heat from Harbinger's beam made the temperature skyrocket to almost rainforest like levels. From behind, the justicar could hear the commandos shift in discomfort from the sudden climate change.
The slow burning light of the beam beckoned them like the famous "light at the end of the tunnel" cliché. Samara could only hypothesize that the Reapers intentionally invoked that notion when building this structure.
"Well we're here, we just gonna stand around admiring the artwork?" Zaeed said.
Commander Inara glared at the mercenary. "That is no way to speak to a justicar, human."
"You want to teach me the proper respect, be my guest," Zaeed said with a shrug. "I could use the work out."
"Enough," Samara said. "Zaeed is correct, we must keep moving."
"What are your orders then, justicar?"
Samara glanced around the area. There were no barricades, surveillance, or guards. In all likelihood after the failed attack on the beam, the Reapers must have assumed that Earth's forces would not be foolish enough to waste more resources on another assault. And with the Crucible in place, the Reapers were focusing their attention on destroying it as quickly as possible. Still if the beam was indeed connected to the Reapers as Samara assumed, their presence would quickly become known. From the distance she saw a small squad of krogan soldiers circled around the perimeter of the beam. Had a krogan battlemaster gone up as well? Either way, more allies were always a welcome sight.
"Zaeed and I will enter the beam," Samara said. "We will keep in contact for as long as we are able. I fear if all of us make the attempt, the Reapers will see it as another assault and bring their full force back here. Commander, I want you to make contact with the krogan stationed near the perimeter. You will cover our flank and will be our reinforcements should the situation grow dire."
Commander Inara nodded and made sure her weapon was loaded with thermal clips. Samara turned to Zaeed who appeared to be doing the same.
"Are you ready, Zaeed?"
The mercenary scoffed. "Do you even need to ask?"
"No, I suppose I don't."
Without another word the two approached the monstrous beacon.
It was time to end this war.