A/N: Thanks for all the continued support, you guys/gals/hanar! Sorry this one took so long, but I had a serious case of writer's block that was only exacerbated by my vacation. Classes, ironically, start up again tomorrow, so I should be more productive.
The following work was beta'd by BSG-Legacy and my new second beta, the fantastic MeganD! Now they split the credit, so each of them gets 25%. Also the blame.
If you're unfamiliar with the M-080 IFV, I'd suggest checking the Mass Effect wikia for an image and some lore. It lacks a proper name, so I'm calling it the Barracuda. The Alliance goes from Bear to ? to Shark to another Shark, so why not?
For those that may be confused, I went back and retconned the Grizzly tanks from Chapter 2, because they're stupid, to the M-080 Barracuda.
As always, Bioware owns lots of things, etc.
-(|)-
Rolan Quarn was beginning to realize that 'joining' the Blue Suns may not have been the wisest choice. Their soldiers were capable, but the turian con artist had learned first hand that the leadership was anything but. Most orders were relayed by Santiago himself in the form of screaming through their radios. It was inefficient and tactless, two things that Rolan simply couldn't stand.
As his team's M-080 Barracuda IFV rolled along the cracked, prefabbed streets of Gozu, the passenger cabin rattled and shook violently. His newly acquired Blue Suns armor scuffed and scraped against the two bulky batarians sitting next to him. They didn't seem too bothered by it.
"Alright, men.", grunted the team's human male commander. He stood up and awkwardly shoved his way to the front of the cramped passenger compartment, his Blue Suns armor clunking and scraping against the other mercs. He grabbed a handhold on the ceiling and grinned at his team. "Santiago wants the rest of the 1st Armored to secure Gozu, so that's what we're gonna do. That means blowing the crap out of anyone, and anything that may more may not be krogan, red vorcha, or whatever other kinds of hell we find out here. Questions?"
Rolan balked internally. Calling it the '1st Armored' was so apt he nearly laughed. The Blue Suns had never had armored ground vehicles before, and so far they hadn't exactly performed like a fleet of IFVs should. "Sir, it was my understanding that the Suns had a strict, conventional command structure. Dare I ask why the CEO, Founder, CFO, COO, and Chairman of our company is micromanaging us like an over-stimmed volus?"
The rest of the squad, including the commander, laughed at that. "No clue, Sandoras.", said the Commander, addressing Rolan by one of the long, long list of go-to personas he kept on hand. "If I had to guess, I'd say stress. Someone should really lace his coffee with Eximo, I swear..."
Eximo, besides being a non-addictive narcotic used to treat stress in humans, was one of Rolan's favorite tools for grifting the galaxy's newest race. Using just the right dosage, a typical human becomes far more open to suggestion. Walking away with a few hundred thousand credits legally wired to a series of banks across Citadel space was a personal favorite of his.
For now, though, Rolan chose to wait. If he could stick close to the Suns long enough to find another, more suitable, method of survival, then there was nothing to worry about.
If he could break out of C-SEC custody and the Citadel itself undetected, escaping Omega was going to be child's play.
-(|)-
Shepard bit her lower lip, slightly distraught at the level she'd had to stoop to just in order to survive. The clinic's morgue was filled to the brim with the pungent stench of death, embalming fluid, and corpses both uncovered and not. The tightly packed room was uncomfortably cold, and the woman was positive that the shivers that traveled down her spine weren't because of the temperature.
As long as her military career had been, she'd never once gotten used to the sight of dead civilians. Looting them for weapons and equipment, however, was even more unsettling.
"Found another few thermal clips, and...a Predator", said Miranda, crouching over her half of the morgue. She sanitized the blue blood stained equipment and carefully loaded them into their makeshift gun bag. "So far, that's ten pistols and more than enough thermal clips. We're going to have to sacrifice quality over quantity, I think. I doubt we'll find anything more than basic Elkoss gear."
Dr. Ceres stood by the door, keeping her eyes affixed through the windows. "They're for self defense, not a war.", she said quietly. The good doctor hadn't taken a single glance at their pillaging, and as such had elected to simply serve as the lookout in case one of her colleagues came to deliver more lost souls. Her hands firmly gripped Vasir's wheelchair, whose head was now encased in gauze and medical tape. "Hurry it up, you two. You're already pushing the boundaries of my ethics as it is."
As Shepard patted down the last of her several dozen cadavers for salvage, she couldn't help but feel dirty. "...you and me both.", she lamented. Taking fallen weapons from mercenaries was one thing, but doing the same from civilians, no matter how relatively innocent they might be, just felt like stealing. Mercs knew the risks, and it was either her or them. The victims here weren't even involved.
Zaeed's grizzled voice cracked in over their comm. "We've got armor headed our way. Barracuda IFV! Looks like it's alone! Five minutes out!"
"Shit.", grunted Shepard, standing up from the bodies as she stuffed a handful of thermal clips into her pockets. "Miranda, we're done here. You're carrying the guns." The woman swiftly zipped up the makeshift gun bag and brought the medical supply bag over to Dr. Ceres, who promptly secured it to the back of the wheelchair.
Miranda nodded and pulled the gun bag over her shoulder. "Alright, but if that IFV's about, we can't make it to my skycar on foot.", she said, confirming her machine pistols were secured. "Since yours is dead metal…"
"Wouldn't suggest moving by air, anyway. The sky is one big clusterfuck, and it doesn't look like that's going to die down anytime soon. Rooftops and windows are clear, so's the area around us."
"What about the battlemasters and the red vorcha?", asked Shepard.
"Guddamn idiots must've killed each other off. It's just bodies out there."
"Then escaping just moved up from impossible to suicidal." Shepard tightened the strap of the food, stims and shattered armor bag on her back. "Ok, so Miranda's skycar is a no-go, and there's no way we can make the journey on foot without running into more mercs or, God forbid, the red vorcha. Zaeed, can you slow down the IFV?"
"If by slow it down, you mean get myself killed by it's big guddamn turret after it tracks where those rockets keep coming from, then yeah I can slow it to a fat, stupid, ugly, stop.", he said, his words drenched in sarcasm.
The woman scratched her forehead. "Uh, ok. I take it you're not in the mood for a little impromptu martyrdom?", she said, frowning.
"Not really, no."
Shepard rolled her eyes. "'Course you're not.", she said, pinching her brow. "Fuck it."
"Something stupid?"
"Yeah. Something stupid.", lamented Shepard.
Dr. Ceres turned and scowled at the woman. "Is that really your best option? Something stupid? Wonderful."
"Hey, I'm open to feedback and suggestions, here.", defended Shepard. "And it's not so much stupid as it is risky. We need transport, and an armored vehicle is exactly what we need right now." The woman huffed. "Look, I know what I'm doing! We just steal the damn thing and haul ass!"
Miranda furrowed her brow and moved over to the other woman. "...a hijacking? Not impossible, but we'd need to force them to stop and not use the turret before it tears us apart."
Shepard nodded. "Not only that, but we need them to deploy out of the back, as as well getting the driver to expose himself. Barracudas are heavy, handle like a cinderblock and built like tanks. Cracking their armor without killing Zaeed, according to him, isn't an option.", she said, scratching her cheek. "They hold seven in the back and one in the front, so we have to assume we've got eight hostiles to deal with."
Dr. Ceres pressed her lips into a thin line. "Three against eight. You're right, this is suicidal."
"It isn't if blow their fucking brains out, lady. High ground with a sniper rifle is a helluva force multiplier."
Miranda crossed her arms, deep in thought. "We've also got surprise in our favor, so...we need a barricade, but one they can't just drive or shoot through…"
Shepard blinked and snapped her fingers as it came to her. "Got it. We fire off a few bursts near the entrance and order everyone outside to create a natural roadblock. Then, we slip in among them, and wait for the mercs to show themselves.", she said, her voice and expression hardening in tandem. "Mercs may be stupid, but most aren't psychotic. They're fighting other PMCs and gangs out there, not civvies." The woman glanced at the pile of bodies around them. "Not intentionally, at least."
Miranda grimaced. "While it is true that not even Aria would order her men to drive through crowds like that…", she said warily. "...it's not the wisest option, Shepard. They'd just scatter in a panic."
"Or tear us apart." Dr. Ceres shook her head. "They're hurt and angry. Never underestimate the power of a riled up mob."
Miranda nodded. "Exactly. Getting them outside, of their own will, is ideal. If we trigger the fire alarms and herd everyone outside, posing as staff, we've got a good chance of pulling this off.", she stated plainly.
Shepard rubbed her temples. "...right, yes. Much better idea. Let's do that.", she said, turning to the good doctor. "Doctor Ceres, I need you to-
"I'm not posing as staff. I actually work here.", interjected Dr. Ceres. She glared at Shepard, her grip tightening on the wheelchair. "I was in surgery for seven hours, and the faces out here haven't changed. I won't abandon them.", she said with a frown. "Take her from my care if you want, but don't you dare just assume I'm coming with you."
"Yes, you are." Shepard's blue-grey eyes grew dark as she set her jaw. "We can't let her die on this station." she said confidently, her tone absolute. The woman flashed her teeth.. "Do you have any fucking idea what'll happen if she does?"
Dr. Ceres bit her lip. "I do.", she whispered, matching Shepard's intensity. "I don't want that to happen, but I've already done my part." The asari doctor tilted her head, glaring at the other woman. "The rest is above my paygrade. None of my fucking concern."
"Wrong. You know who she is.", she said, frowning. Shepard drew her pistol and pressed the barrel against the doctor's head with frightening speed. "You come with, and we've got a fighting chance." She flicked off the safety. "You stay, Aria finds you and we lose everything.", said Shepard, sounding more and more desperate. Her expression became pained, filling with regret. "...please, don't make me do this. You know she'll just fuck it out of you."
The asari doctor was silent for a long moment, staring down the barrel of the gun without so much as a flinch. "...fine.", she growled, bowing her head slightly. "Just do it fast."
"Thank you." Shepard sighed, smiling sadly as the tension melted away. "And we can do that." She holstered her pistol and turned to Miranda, who was now leaning against the wall beside a fire alarm. It worried her that other woman hadn't jumped to defend Dr. Ceres, but Shepard supposed there was time for that later. "Zaeed, ETA?"
"Fifty seconds. Rooftops and windows are still clear."
"Miranda, trigger it in ten.", she said to the other woman, who nodded in response. "Guaranteed kills only, Zaeed. We can't give them time to figure out what's happening."
"Roger that. I've got a good feeling about this plan, and I'm guddamn happy to be a part of it."
"Of course you are..." Miranda took a deep breath. She pulled the fire alarm, setting off ear shattering sirens throughout the clinic.
-(|)-
Rolan Quarn was nearly crushed by the mercenaries sitting beside him as the Barracuda screeched to a halt. The squad leader lost his footing and fell onto one of the bulky batarians, who quickly shoved the rather angry commander back onto his feet. "Rattik! What the hell are you doing?! Keep driving!", yelled the commander into the radio. Alarms, thankfully from outside of the IFV, roared around them.
"Sir, that may not be the best idea. About two hundred people just came sprinting out of the clinic. They're panicked, and those sound like fire alarms."
The squad leader covered his face with his palm. "Did you try the horn?"
"Not yet." The horn blared. "Now they're just screaming at us. They look pretty pissed, sir."
"Well, then try it again."
The horn blared, again.
"Nope."
"Dammit! Pop the hatch and tell them to make a hole! We have to keep moving!"
"Got it."
Rolan hummed and looked between the rest of his team. "Well, this is certainly an odd coincidence.", he said, knowing all too well that no such thing existed. Coincidences dropped your guard, and the turian con artist wasn't in the business of looking the fool.
That was a job best left to everyone else.
-(|)-
Shepard smirked as the top hatch of the Barracuda IFV flipped open. The turian driver waved his arms without confidence as he tried to order the huddled mass of injured and sick that blocked the vehicle's path.
The group was packed together so closely that Shepard could feel the breath of eight people on her neck. They all collectively screamed and sobbed at the turian, demanding medical attention and a stop to the madness.
"Hey, alright! Everybody! Can you please just...move aside! HEY! Move along! Nothing to see here! Make a hole! Spirits, we can't exactly drive through you! JUST MOVE!", shouted the turian, his patience vanishing rather quickly.
"FUCK YOU, BIRD!", Shepard screamed back. "IT'S PEOPLE LIKE YOU THAT SENT US HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!"
Needing no further motivation, the rest of the crowd started hurling insults and rage at the driver. The turian, oddly enough, even tried to meekly apologize to a few of the more explicit remarks.
Shepard made eye contact with Miranda and Dr. Ceres through the crowd. She readied the spectre's weapon and flicked off the safety. "Go.", she whispered into the comm.
The turian's head collapsed as the crack of Zaeed's rifle echoed through the air, spewing grey matter and blue blood across the windshield of the IFV. "Got 'em."
Shepard launched herself up and over the crowd with a biotics assisted leap, catching sight of Miranda making a small path to sprint through by 'parting the waters' with two elongated barrier walls below her, and landed just beside the front wheels.
She ran to the back wheels of the Barracuda, just as the rear loading ramp slammed open. Shepard pinned herself to the vehicle, barely out of view. Six heavily armed Blue Suns mercenaries surged out of the IFV, one of them loudly complaining about lazy drivers.
"Six of 'em. Heavily armed. Machine guns, shotguns, knives, grenades.", grunted Zaeed, as two rifle shots cracked from the roof. "Two less, now. Not gonna chance hitting you when it goes CQC."
Shepard frowned, thinking quickly. "Four outside, assume one inside.", she grunted in the comm, beginning to radiate a recurring biotic sonar. Six large masses, though, without line of sight, determining their movements and direction wasn't something she could do very quickly. The two dead ones were horizontal to the ground, but that was about all she got.
Before she could issue out a quick plan of attack, one of the mercenaries rounded the corner. "Oh. Hey.", the woman said, scanning his equipment. Shotgun, knives, grenades.
"Uh. Hello?", replied the batarian merc, confused. Halting any chance of a counter attack, Shepard biotically lashed him toward her, spinning him around in the process, and snapped his neck. His body fell to the ground, and the woman heard a steady stream of machine pistol fire from the other side of the IFV.
"One down.", said Miranda.
"Same here.", she replied, wrapping herself in a biotic overbarrier. Shepard pivoted out of cover and her instincts, in tandem with her active sonar, kicked in, bringing the slim barrel to bare at the nearest human merc and firing a long burst into her spine. The polonium rounds melted through her heavy armor as she writhed to the ground with a scream.
On the other side of the loading ramp, Miranda kicked out a turian mercenary's legs and sent her flying down the street with a powerful biotic throw. The woman closed her fist, enveloping the merc in surging blue waves, and vaporized the turian in mid-air.
Shepard clipped the spectre's sidearm to her belt and scooped up the fallen human's shotgun. She slapped a fresh thermal clip into it and motioned Miranda toward the loading ramp. The women rounded the corner, weapons raised at the eighth and final mercenary, and were greeted with a very confusing sight.
A barefaced, unarmed turian mercenary, holding his hands above his head.
"You win. I surrender."
-(|)-
Despite his voluntary surrender, Rolan was rather violently thrown out onto the prefabbed street of Gozu. He landed on his stomach, causing yet another dent and scuff on his armor. Lucky for him, that only made it more authentic. "There's no need to be so violent. Though, I suppose you're not the type to appreciate a gentleman.", said the turian con artist, his tone resonating playfully.
The woman with the dark hair tied into a bun, who'd tossed him so effortlessly, rolled her eyes and pinned him to the ground with her foot on his neck. "Shepard, this is clearly a trick. Turians don't surrender. Let's just kill him."
The other woman, presumably Shepard, lowered her weapon. "What? Why?" She said as she knelt down next to him, her expression changing very rapidly. "We're not doing that, Miranda. Not unless he's actually a threat." The woman furrowed her brow at him. "Are you?"
"Not to those such as yourself, no." The turian pulled his mandibles back in a small smile. "All of my weapons are organized, disabled and unloaded inside of the cabin. I didn't fire, nor did I even get up from my seat."
Shepard frowned and stood up. "So you're a coward, then?"
"Not at all. I'd just rather not be associated with the Blue Suns any longer.", he said with a shrug. "Incompetent leadership can be very useful at times, but...I wouldn't say this is one of them, would you?"
The woman half-scoffed, looking a little charmed, if not amused. "No, I suppose I wouldn't."
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me!", groaned a very gruff, grizzled and angry looking man. He stomped over to the downed turian with a scowl. "What kind of turian is a guddamn coward!? I swear to God, Vido is running the Suns into the ground!"
Miranda looked at the man, baffled. "Zaeed, How did you get down here so quickly? I thought your skycar was dead metal."
Zaeed scoffed. "You know, for those of us not born with fucking blue brain magic, rappel lines work stupid well for getting down from high places.", he said gruffly, patting the roll of high tensile strength tether on his belt.
"Calm down." Shepard eyed the man sidelong. "Still, it is a little weird for him to hire a turian who isn't..." She raised a brow, turning back to Rolan. "...very turian. You're not a merc, are you, bird?"
"Not in any sense of the word. Aria showed her hand, and I kept close to those with the most guns. Eventually, they just assumed I was one of them, which was general the idea." Rolan tilted his head. "Standing behind those with the most guns seemed the best plan for survival, but now I'm thinking that you three may be a far better option."
"Fine. He's most likely not a threat.", said Miranda. She scoffed. "We don't have time for this. Why don't we just tie him up, shove him in the back and deal with him later?"
"Good idea." Shepard nodded. "Zaeed, salvage what equipment you can.", she said as she stored her large pack into the cabin. "Doctor Ceres, we're clear. Load the package, double time! We are getting the hell out of here!", the woman barked, presumably over a radio.
The Miranda pulled the turian con artist to his feet, and cocked her head at Zaeed. "Do you mind?"
"Nah, this part's fun." Zaeed laughed and quickly bound Rolan's hands and arms behind his back with the tether. "Alright, in you go dumbass.", he said as she shoved the turian into the back corner of the cabin.
Miranda sat down next to him, crossing her arms with a frown. "You saw what I did to that other turian, correct?"
"Indeed I did."
"You try anything, the same happens to you. Are we clear?", she said, glaring.
Rolan slowly nodded, needing no further convincing that she wasn't one to make threats lightly. "We are."
"Good."
Dr. Ceres quickly pushed a wheelchair bound asari, whose head was encased entirely in gauze and medical tape, around the corner of the IFV. "I concede my previous hesitation. This worked...perfectly." She looked at the turian, shrugged, and then wheeled the asari into the cabin. "Who's driving, by the way?", said the asari doctor as she secured the masked woman to the interior.
"That'd be me." Shepard cocked a brow confidently and biotically lept onto the roof of the Barracuda. "Fair warning, it's a bumpy ride!", she said as she jogged to the front.
"That's really guddamn encouraging!", the man yelled after her. He grumbled as he loaded several machine guns, shotguns, grenades and other pieces of weaponry into the Barracuda. After securing them onto the weapon racks, he sealed the ramp and sat down next to the conscious asari. He was silent for a few moments before looking around curiously. "...anyone else feel like we forgot something?"
-(|)-
Dr. Mordin Solus was, at the same time, incredibly impressed and very much distraught. Shepard's plan of faking a fire to hijack an armored vehicle to escape with their injured friend, likely the asari Aria was looking for: brilliant. Was also very, very stupid. Unnecessary risk.
Perhaps wasn't. As he carried his case of portable instruments through the receding crowd, it became clear that the stakes were higher than he'd thought. Not only that, but she'd had a greybox. Stained with asari blood. Odd. Specific. Significant.
Mordin's mind raced through a thousand possibilities at once, trying to deduce exactly who the asari was. "Targeted, coordinated attack on de facto Terminus figurehead by powerful asari. Expensive, unique equipment. Greybox, belonging to third asari. Not Aria." He shook his head. "...cosmetic damage suggests method of removal resulted in death or coma. Aria called for Hunt, referenced recent events. Not dead, possibly injured."
The good doctor looked up at still raging dog-fighting above him, narrowing his black eyes. "...Nexus Massacre most likely Zaeed's efforts, as injuries associated with massacre match asari's. Also pre-established goal of near-suicidal flight path. Shepard chose not to kill, even after fight, but protect." Mordin blinked several times and picked up his pace to the IFV.
Shepard, who was cleaning turian innards off of the Barracuda's viewport, looked up as she heard him. She frowned, looking very worried. "Mordin, what the hell are you doing out here?"
Mordin cleared his throat. "Unable to save remaining patients with current resources. Can do most good with you. Besides, rest of staff will help those they can."
"As much as I'd like to get that surgery as soon as possible..." Shepard furrowed her brow. "...the right thing to do isn't to just...blindly follow me. I'm not really sure why people are doing that right now, actually..."
"Natural leader, slump into position when vacant. Who you are.", he said, dismissing the topic as less than relevant. "Also, geneticist, not practitioner of internal medicine. Common misconception, often don't bother correcting it."
"Right. I keep forgetting that." She shook her head, embarrassed. "Look, just get in the car before we get shot! I'll explain later!"
"No, no, no! Almost have it!", he replied, almost giddy.
"What?", she blinked, confused. "Almost have what?"
"Morality and background indicates asari is of military, political, nationalist importance, but contradicts past victories. Asari commandos among them. Must be something more. More important..." He grinned directly at Shepard, his eyes snapping open wide. "Asari is citadel agent! Spectre! Protection due to understanding political consequences of asari's death by current context! Classic diplomatic simulation! Exposure of council plot to assassinate Aria incites intragalactic war between Terminus and Citadel! Cost millions, possibly billions of lives! Loose borders! Purely theoretical, unlikely, but still genuine danger if possibility present! Battle lines drawn by concept of freedom! War of ideologies splits-"
"MORDIN!", screamed Shepard, her head so red with rage it looked like it was about to pop. "SHUT UP AND GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!" She stabbed her index finger at the back of the IFV. "NOW!"
"...should...not have said last part."
-(|)-
Save for Aria and her most trusted lieutenants, Afterlife was completely abandoned. The deep, pounding bass was still present, but without the gaggle of almost permanently aroused asari grinding up against everything, it didn't quite feel like home. The bright neon lights had dimmed, and her custodial staff had long since cleaned up the mess left in the wake of her previous announcement.
They'd all left of their own accord, and Aria wasn't one to make them stay. Her nightclub was still open to the public, even if the heavy mechs and turrets outside turned some of the stupider mercenaries into putty now and then. No one had returned, and the pirate queen was well aware of the reason.
Aria blinked, her cold eyes unwilling to see the dire consequences of her lust for control. A dozen projected vidscreens surrounded her, each playing a live feed of the utter destructive chaos happening all across the station. The property damage was in the millions of credits, mostly aesthetics and dockyards, but the wave of wanton obliteration was slowly encroaching on the life support systems. Casualties were estimated in the tens of thousands so far, but the pirate queen knew it would only grow if she couldn't stop the madness of her own design.
Omega was at war with itself in a thousand different ways. Fighters, gunships and other attack craft swarmed her skies like rachni, creating an impenetrable wall of fire and steel. Every single mercenary, vigilante, paramilitary, and political faction in the terminus weren't just at each other's throats anymore.
They were tearing them out and feeding them to the ever growing sea of red vorcha.
The pirate queen crossed her arms, very unamused at the news she'd just received. "...how exactly did these 'red vorcha' get out of the pits, Bray?", asked Aria, staring at a very battle scarred Bray over the vidcomm. "Those incinerators weren't cheap, so I'm eager to learn as to why you didn't think to use them."
"We did, actually. Didn't work, since they tore out the heating coils. We set a few on fire, but it only made 'em mate faster."
"Brilliant. Our primary defense against the regular vorcha is just an aphrodisiac for the red ones." Aria narrowed her eyes. "Should I be worried about this getting out of hand, or will the idiots who keep tearing apart my station eventually sort this out?"
"I know I'd be worried if the combined volume of an invincible, krogan sized super-vorcha horde was a cubic kilometer, but then again, I'm not in charge."
"I believe I heard that wrong." The pirate queen blinked. That couldn't be right. "Do you mean that, if we shoved all of them in a box, the box would have to be that large to fit all of them?"
"Pretty much."
Aria took a very small breath. "That is indeed a very large problem. Sealing off parts of the station is an ineffective containment strategy, correct?"
"Yeah. Like I said, they can claw through basically everything that isn't a cruiser."
"Fine. Anything else?", she asked blithely.
"They've flooded the lower districts, mostly through your private tunnel system. So that's something we'll have to deal with directly. Gozu, Ikina and Kenzo seem to be hit the hardest. For now, as far as we can tell, they're staying away from Doru and Tuhi."
"I'm well aware that my bunker and our life support systems have been largely unaffected, Bray.", she said, frowning. "I may still be in Afterlife, but that doesn't make me blind."
"Ok. Anyway, they're in the tunnels, so they'll probably make their way there eventually. If somebody else doesn't do it first, I guess."
"Thank you, Bray.", she said snidely. Aria turned away from the vidcomm and back to the devastation spreading across Omega. "I want you, Gavorn and Patriarch to start consolidating what forces you can in order to combat this threat. Your goal is, if you cannot kill them, to draw them towards the idiots tearing apart my station until we can figure out a way to wipe them out."
"You got it. Stay safe."
The connection closed, and Aria was left wondering how she was supposed to deal with a super-vorcha infestation when she wasn't even able to placate, or protect, her own peasants. She frowned, pacing around the vidscreens as she soaked in the damage and grew ever angrier.
Living in the Terminus had taught her that playing dirty was the only way to dominate those that were dirtier. That is, until her iron hold on the station had slipped ever so slightly. For a few hours, Omega had thought her dead, so naturally there was a rush to fill the perceived power vacuum. The Hunt was supposed to neutralize that threat by focusing their collective blood lust on a single target.
It was one of the dirtiest plays she could make, and it didn't work. In fact, it had only made things worse. All she'd really done was order a bunch of krogan to stomp out a varren after she'd locked them in her basement. They'd just fight each other, because they didn't care. Hopefully, at the very least, that asari, who had most likely killed Shepard and Zaeed by now, would be caught in the crossfire.
Aria grunted, sat down on her couch and continued to watch her once beautiful station destroy itself. "Has anyone responded to the cease fires we've sent out, Grizz?", she asked the turian, who was overseeing the team of techs as they organized as much strategic data as they could.
"Which one?", he asked grimly, his mandibles tightening onto his cheeks.
Aria clenched her teeth. "All seven of them."
"Besides the usual 'fuck off' and 'fuck you', no, no one has responded."
"What about the teams I deployed to protect the residential districts?", she asked more hopefully. If any of the dozens of plans she'd set into motion over the past few hours had a chance of succeeding, it was that one.
Grizz looked at a few datapads and grumbled. "...Teams two through seven are now literal heads on pikes, thanks to Jona Sederis. The rest have not checked in." He handed her a datapad with a picture of the asari in question holding up a very freshly severed salarian head on a pike. 'Greetings from Omega!' was written in bright bold letters above her.
"It...certainly sends a message. I have no idea what that message is, but it's...sending me one.", she said, raising a brow. "The founder of Eclipse is as powerful a biotic as she is clinically insane, and every day she loses her mind a little bit more. " Aria tossed the datapad onto the couch and glared at the turian. "I have seen her crush a freighter while drowning in biotic suppressants. I didn't know she was here, and at the moment I don't care how that slipped the net. She's the single largest threat to this station outside of the red vorcha, so we need her taken out. Contact the Blue Suns, and tell them I want to speak to Vido personally."
Grizz nodded, and in less than a minute, Vido's permanently five-o-clock shadowed mug was plastered over the vidcomm. He was scowling, as he often did. "So the great and powerful Aria desires help from the Blue Suns. Didn't you hear we own a third of Omega now? We don't need to listen to you anymore! Tell me, why should I-"
Aria rolled her eyes. "Shut up. You went from a fifth to a third and can do basic math. Good for you. How much for Jona Sederis's head?"
"Depends. Dead or alive?", replied Vido, all of his macho boasting melting away in an instant. The man was a coward, and most knew it.
"Dead, you idiot.", growled the pirate queen. "I said her head, not her entire body bound, gagged, covered in elasa and dropped on my doorstep by a pair of monster-cocked krogan and their pet transgender human male like some sort of confusing sexual fantasy!"
Vido stared in shock, his skin turning pale. "...how the hell did you know-"
Aria grew a demonic grin and lowered her voice. "I fucked it out of one of your lovers. What was her name? Jentha?", she teased as she leaned back on the couch and castled her fingers. "Now, let's talk price. If I don't like it, I may just release a few of those wonderful facts about you to the public."
"Ten thousand!", spat Vido.
Aria yawned and waved Grizz over. "Grizz, be a dear and send a comm burst to everyone on the station detailing all of Vido's shortcomings, mistakes and secrets, would you?"
"No! Okay, free! I'll do it for free!", panicked Vido, his entire head now drenched in flop sweat.
"Deal. Let me know when it's done." Aria closed the link and smirked to herself. She may have lost control on an administrative level, but she was still the queen on every other.
-(|)-
Shepard grumbled and ignited the Barracuda's engine, the thirty ton war machine roaring to life. Her hands flew over the haptic controls, switching them out for manual controls. The orange displays vanished as the conventional wheel, command buttons, and pedals slid into place. She adjusted each part to fit her stature and swept her palms over of wheel thoughtfully.
Manual controls made driving feel natural, as if the vehicle was an extension of her body. A fourth leg, as biotics had long been her third.
"Last call! Everyone secure?", she barked through the IFV's internal comm. Mordin's abrupt outburst at everything she was trying so desperately to hide from Aria had trashed her mood, denying her the opportunity to savor the small victory they'd had by stealing the Barracuda.
If he wasn't going out of his way to save her life, she'd punch him in the head.
"We're fine. Go.", replied Dr. Ceres.
"Yes! Keep moving! Can't risk more exposure to gangs and mercenaries. Need to stay hidden. Safe. Zaeed a bad model for vehicle operation!", interjected Mordin, somehow talking even faster than normal.
"Oh, shut up.", grumbled Zaeed. "I swear, you cause one big accident and suddenly it's the only thing you've ever done."
Miranda sighed so loudly that Shepard was surprised she could hear it. "It was only eight hours ago, not five years. The memory is still very fresh."
The woman scowled and locked the loading ramp into place, and slammed her foot onto the accelerator. The Barracuda roared as it rolled forward across the long, debris ridden streets of Gozu. It was much slower than she remembered and, as she struggled to dodge the upper half of a crashing gunship, realized that it was handling even worse than a cinderblock.
"Zaeed, deal with it, and take control of the turret. Fire on anything too fast for us to outrun.", she said as she scanned the dashboard for something to fix the IFV's lack of gusto. Shepard shot the switch labeled 'Six-Wheel Drive' a hard look and flipped it. "...why would anyone disable that...?", she wondered aloud in a whisper.
The big red button next to it had no label at all, but Shepard remembered exactly what it did. She'd never gotten the chance to use it, as it was a serious danger to everyone on board, and part of her still resented her instructors for drilling the potential consequences into her brain all those years ago. The woman actually had to slap her hand away from pressing it, which didn't surprise her in the least.
The Barracuda clacked loudly, the control system switching over, and the woman instantly felt the difference. Shepard felt like she could jump bridges, weave in and out of rockets, and smash her way through an apartment building all at once.
"Got it. How fast can these go, anyway?", asked Zaeed.
Shepard banked the Barracuda around a corner, weaving in and out of debris with grace and skill one wouldn't normally associate with armored vehicles. She smirked, rather enjoying this small bit of physical isolation from the hodgepodge of misfits she'd managed to manifest over the past ten hours. "Not sure, Zaeed. Last time I drove one of these things, I think I got it up to 150 kilometers an hour. I was running from a carpet bombing at the time, so I wasn't paying too close attention to the speed.", she chuckled.
"As impressive an anecdote as that is, Shepard, I'm sending you a navpoint.", directed Miranda. "My skycar is just a block away from our position, and I keep a cache of rather...important equipment in it's trunk."
"The fuck do I look like, a taxi driver?", Shepard growled, smashing the front of the Barracuda through an abandoned gang checkpoint. Jury-rigged walls of thin metal sheets split open to make way for the IFV's raging bulk. "We don't have time for that."
All six tires rolled over and crushed a line of dead skycars once used as a barricade before utterly flattening a pair of toll booths. Some of Omega's gangs were remarkably well organized, it seemed.
"It's the jet black skycar one hundred meters in front of you. It has gold accents, and...here, let me flicker the lights..."
"Oh. I see it." Shepard slowed the Barracuda as a jet black skycar, one among many in a very large parking lot, did indeed flicker its lights. "...guess we do have time for it, huh." She checked the sensors and shrugged as the radar and ladar scans came up clean. "Zaeed, I've got nothing on instruments. You see anything?" The woman pushed the vehicle forward, driving over row after row of skycars toward Miranda's own.
"Not a guddamn thing, Shepard. It's a ghost town down here. Up there, though, is still one big clusterfuck."
"We don't have to worry about them, for the moment. As long as nobody fires a signal flare or-"
The Barracuda rolled over the front bumper of an older model skycar, activating it's anti-theft alarm. The blaring, panicked siren echoed off into the distance, which set off a slew of other car alarms both several blocks away and in the parking lot.
Shepard seethed, her hands gripping the wheel so hard that it audibly strained to keep its shape. "Miranda, get out, grab your crap, and get your ass back here! Now!", she said as she dropped the ramp. "What kind of an idiot gets a car alarm installed on Omega?!" She slammed her forehead against the wheel, unintentionally sounding the horn.
"If I had to hazard a guess...a very wealthy idiot, I'd say.", replied the snarky turian.
"You, bird, the fuck's your name?", Shepard snapped back.
"Rolan Quarn. And yours?"
"Rolan Quarn, my name is Karen Gwendolyn Shepard and if you don't keep your mouth shut..."
-(|)-
"...I'M GOING TO TEAR OUT YOUR THROAT WITH MY TEETH AND SHIT DOWN YOUR NECK!", screamed Shepard, her anger reverberating through the Barracuda's internal speakers. "I HAVE ZERO PATIENCE FOR BULLSHIT TODAY!"
Miranda bolted out of the IFV and toward her car, scrambling over the wreckage and burning debris that littered the area. She passed a squad of dead mercenaries, their faceplates shattered inward, but didn't pay them any mind. They were dead, and she was busy.
Her skycar was, sadly, riddled with bullet holes and covered in its own shattered glass. The roof was caved in, and Miranda winced at the prospect of having to file an insurance claim for the damage. She could justify 'Act of God', but then she'd be playing right into Aria's hand.
Mercifully, the trunk was the one part of her skycar that seemed relatively intact. She popped it open and waved her omni-tool over the seemingly empty compartment. The floor slid back, revealing an expensive suit of black, white and gold armor. Two orange bisected hexagons, the larger parallel over the other, adorned the right breast and helmet. Beside it was a weapon rack filled with machine pistols, a few prototype assault rifles, disk grenades, along with a slew of other useful gadgets and tools.
"Be advised, I'm picking up...what the...seismic activity?", relayed Shepard. "That can't be right. It looks like a rapid series of 1.3 earthquakes, because apparently the Richter scale still applies to Omega. Seriously, how old is this?"
"That's impossible.", said Miranda as she reached out with her biotics. Her armor glowed with a faint blue haze, and very rapidly assembling itself on to her body with perfect, practiced precision. It hissed as the environmental seal locked into place, her helmet's situational awareness package quickly coming online as well. "We're on a space station built out of an asteroid. There aren't any active fault lines, nor could there be."
"It's probably a broken sensor, Shepard. You just drove over a few dozen skycars, so that's most likely the reason.", insisted Dr. Ceres. "I've lived here for fifty years, and not once have I heard of, or felt, anything resembling an earthquake."
"Could be...high explosives. Not too far below surface. Mining charges. Possibly breaching blast doors. Bunkers, reactors, many places of great importance! Hermatic seals powerful, not invincible!", rebutted Mordin.
"Hold up. I'm getting a similar frequency of tremors, but now it's at a...2.5? Miranda, you feel anything?"
Miranda surveyed her equipment for damage, and was faintly aware of a small disturbance in the ground. "Just barely. I might've missed it if you hadn't asked."
"Not a broken sensor, then. Huh."
Mordin made an 'ah' sound. "Recall rachni attack patterns. Very similar. Light tremors, then larger. Grow until sinkholes, landslides, breaches in earth. Then, swarm from below. Proved effective even against krogan. Can shoot up, not down."
"Rachni? The...bug things that nearly wiped out the galaxy? Pretty sure they've been extinct for around two thousand years.", said Shepard, clearly trying to convince herself it was true. Miranda knew better, but it wasn't her place to say.
"Most likely, though unproven. Margin of error. Extinction of sapient race long, difficult process. Krogan impatient by nature, may have cut corners."
"That's ridiculous. Doctor Solus, I can't imagine they'd turn their backs on the greatest enemy they'd ever known due to poor work ethic.", said Dr. Ceres. "Much of krogan ideology was, and still is, simplistic and tribal in nature. An enemy must be vanquished to prove one's superiority, not out of honor or self-defense. Both turians and asari shared a similar mentality in their early cultural development, but what's most interesting, considering the turians are their homeworld's apex predator and the krogan were very much prey, is that both of them came to nearly the same conclusion regarding warfare.", she wondered aloud. "On the other hand, the asari learned to talk."
"Wow. That was...both very informative and slightly racist.", Shepard said, clearing her throat. "...are you sure you're a surgeon?", she asked, her inflection betraying her anxiety.
"Positive. I wasn't always, obviously. Nobody is one thing for their entire lives."
"Unaware you dabbled in phsycological xeno-anthropology before founding clinic. Would like to hear more, after current situation dealt with of course.", said Mordin, surprised.
"Yes, by all means have an academic discussion about nature versus nurture. Perfect use of our time." Miranda locked the assault rifles, machine pistols, thermal clips, and grenades onto her armor's hard points. The combined weight was far heavier than she was used to, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. As she moved to secure the rest of her equipment, she felt another flurry of quakes, this one slightly rattling the metal frame of the skycars around her. "...alright, I definitely felt that one."
"3.5, that time. Look, Doctor Ceres is interesting. We get it. Whatever's going on, it's not rachni, but if it was, how do we...prepare against sinkholes, Mordin?"
"Difficult to counter. Would need flamethrowers, landmines. Again, high explosives useful. Biotics, possibly, if area of effect large enough."
"...so all the guddamn stuff we've been saving for when shit's hit the fan? Lucky us, not carrying a fucking armory on our backs."
"Whatever it is, it's not our problem.", said Miranda. She sealed the reinforced briefcase that held the rest of her tech, essentially everything that wasn't designed as a weapon, and hauled it back toward the Barracuda. "On my way back."
"Acknowledged.", replied Shepard. "We've still got some ways to go, so everyone stay alert. No telling what we'll-"
Just then, a series of rampant tremors shook the ground, causing Miranda lose her footing. She fell on her side, tightening her grip on the briefcase. A few dilapidated buildings, no doubt collateral damage from the chaotic gang war, lost half of their walls as they fell onto the street, kicking up dust and debris. Stacked skycars tipped over and collapsed, ironically crushing one another into a different kind of pile up.
"Shit, that was a 6.1! Miranda, we are leaving!", said Shepard, raising her voice. "Right now!
"Thirty seconds!", grunted Miranda as she scrambled to her feet, her mind racing as to what, besides the rachni, could possibly cause such a powerful tremor. A frigate's drive core exploding, but that was hard to miss. Small kinetic impactors, but they'd certainly hear those as well as feel them. High explosives, sure, but the sheer volume would sever the district from the station itself.
The tremors, the shattered face plates and windows, Mordin's reference to swarm attack patterns. It all clicked into place.
"RED VORCHA!", she yelled, her words laced with fear. The recordings Zaeed had sent to her, Shepard and Dr. Ceres were more than enough to impart the horrific threat they posed. Only ten meters from the Barracuda. She could make it, and then they'd drive off before getting overrun. It'd be close, but they'd escape.
"Oh, you've got to be shitting me!", roared Zaeed.
"Fuck, I think she's right!", snapped Shepard. "Sensors picking up one, no two hundred plus contacts, all around us! Goddamnit, I'm gunning it! I knew we shouldn't have stopped!"
"I'm almost-" Another quake sent her tumbling to the ground, falling flat on her stomach as she lost her hold on the briefcase. It slid across the street, which cracked and splintered as a tiny, high pitched shriek slipped through the floor.
Miranda's deep blue eyes widened in terror as she felt her faceplate warble. She rolled onto her back and frantically twisted her helmet off, just as the reinforced glass shattered inward. Shards ricocheted off of the interior and sliced through the length of her left cheek. Several streams of blood seeped down her face from the long, shallow wounds as she yelped in pain.
The IFV was already pulling away, its ramp sealed tight.
She tossed the helmet away and, despite feeling as though she'd just been stabbed in the face, forced herself onto her feet. Miranda snatched up the briefcase and froze as she saw the prefabbed floor collapse just in front of the Barracuda.
"Crap crap crap crap crap SHIT!"
It veered out of the way, only to have more patches of crumbling ground block its escape. The armored vehicle was thrown into a hard turn and roared back towards Miranda. The IFV came to a screeching stop just beside her as she felt opposite end of the parking lot fall below the surface. The floor continued to collapse in a large circle around them, sealing them in with just enough room to maneuver.
Miranda had fallen prey to the same tragic misconception that the salarians had made over two thousand years prior. She assumed monsters were nothing more than animals, and could not have been more wrong.
They were being taunted and challenged by a superior force of both numbers and strength. Boxed in, with no hope of escape or back up, and the bastards seemed aware of it. No, they were aware of it. They understood the situation completely, and wanted to play with their food.
As the red vorcha swarmed through the breach around them, their shriek becoming deafening, Miranda accepted the cruel irony of her fate. "...those who refuse to learn history are doomed to repeat it...", she whispered, realizing that humanity truly wasn't that different from anyone else. Cerberus was wrong. They weren't special or-
The ear shattering boom of Barracuda's cannon ended her train of thought, the high explosive round turning a clump of the monsters into nothing more than scattered limbs. It spun around, spraying the less effective coaxial machine gun at the advancing horde as it sounded off with its main gun in tandem, blasting holes in their line from every direction.
Before she could even begin to remember what she was thinking of, Shepard vaulted out of the top hatch, her body surging with arcs of sharp blue, and violently swiped the air in front of her. A dozen vorcha were engulfed in a wide area warp field, their bodies very quickly beginning to fall apart. With a grunt, the woman closed her outstretched hand into a fist, blowing the afflicted vorcha to hell and wounding several others.
In the span of five seconds, Shepard and Zaeed had managed to kill twenty of these seemingly invincible monsters. "Shepard, catch!", said Miranda, tossing the other woman one of her prototype assault rifles.
Shepard caught it, sighted it and gathered more dark energy. "Thanks for the weird looking Mattock. Explain your armor and face later.", she growled as she lifted a cluster of vorcha into the air, crushed them together, and slammed them back into the ground in a burst of blue light. "Don't just stand there! Keep them at range, dammit!"
"Right!" Miranda hurled ten of them back into the breach with a wide-area throw, and whipped a few not-exactly-legal-in-Citadel-space acid disk grenades into the advancing horde, instantly melting the legs of those that were caught in the blast into goop.
As more and more of them went down by their combined efforts, even though their numbers didn't seem to be thinning, Miranda felt a hint of pride as a stray thought entered her mind.
The krogan weren't the only ones good at killing giants monsters.
-(|)-
Jona Sederis was thriving. Where the weak and pitiful of Omega were neck deep in their own piss, the founder of Eclipse was intoxicated by the chaotic power struggle erupting around her. Everyone was desperately reaching for dominance, as if they had any chance of succeeding. A sense of righteous duty had slithered down the throats of those who grasped for the throne, and it was that self-perpetuating mandate that amused Sederis to no end.
"We're freeing Omega from Aria!", she'd heard many say. As a rebuttal, she'd melted their throats. While the best diplomats could debate without speech, even they knew that bleeding profusely was a juvenile argument against their own murder.
Other had beckoned "The Suns will rule the Terminus!". Sederis had thought that adorable, and shredded their optic nerves as a show of brutal irony. She was the only one laughing, but entertaining one's self through humor was the purest form of it. If others enjoyed it, that was merely a bonus.
Sederis's favorite moronic boast was that "The Terminus will rise!". The asari hadn't a single idea as to what that even meant, but the more often she'd heard it, the more it piqued her curiosity. Hopefully, the Blood Pack battlemaster she'd been repeatedly beating to regen-death would have answers for her.
The brutal asari slammed her boot down onto the krogan's crest, the natural armor that had hardened over countless centuries splintering loudly. He roared and charged to tackle the woman, only for her to pivot out of the way and smash his now wounded head into a wall covered in dried. splattered blood of all races. The krogan's nerve fluid splashed against the bulkhead, adding pale yellow to the morbid canvas of stains. He slumped to the ground, growling and broken.
"What the fuck do you want from me?!", roared the battlemaster.
Sederis smirked and bent down over him, her pale yellow form fitting armor mirroring the wall's color pallet. The deep batarian red acted as her warpaint, its strong presence balanced by the intimidating indigo of her own kind. Turian blue traced her throat, and her grin only made it more menacing. "Information. Entertainment. Stimulation. Euphoria is a glorious state of mind, whelp.", she spat, flashing her teeth as she used his own kind's insults against him. "And you are going to help me stay there."
The krogan eyed her, both enraged and confused. "I have no fucking idea what that means."
Sederis laughed once, and her white eyes began to glow fiercely. "So, I shall clarify." The battlemaster was encased in a series of localized stasis fields around each limb, lifted a few feet off the ground, and crushed against the wall. "Your krannt, whose crests will be forged into blades, all spoke a very specific and intriguing phrase." The krogan's limbs were stretched outward just enough for his armor and layered skin to tear. He yelped, pitifully and in agony, and she didn't care. "'The Terminus will Rise'. Clarify. As I have done for you, so you shall do for me."
"It's...just talk!", growled the krogan, avoiding the sight of his arms and legs slowly being torn off at their base. "It means nothing! We've been saying stupid shit like that for centuries!"
Sederis slowly rose to her feet and inspected the krogan's arms that were barely hanging by a thread, her white eyes still glowing with calculated fury. "I'm well aware of your incessant boasting and pack mentality, whelp. That is Omega, as it is the Terminus and even the Citadel. All suffer from such weakness. This, however, is ideology.", she stated calmly, dragging her index finger across the krogan's wingspan. "One is baseless, while the other has deep, tangled and enduring roots. It is a weed that cannot simply be burned, for it will only grow back" The asari violently grasped part of the krogan's soft, unarmored throat. "Where are the roots? Who is propagating this suicidal belief? That this community of brooding exiles and pitiful drecks can become more than they are?"
The krogan roared, writhing in blinding agony as his limbs continued to separate from his body. "I HEARD IT FROM THE MAD PROPHET! YOU DIDN'T NEED TO TORTURE ME FOR THIS!"
"As I said, euphoria is a glorious state of mind, and your role in this life is keep me there.", she said as she placed her palm on the side of his armored neck. "Interesting. The batarian, whose outbound frequency is the only one not being jammed? Those are very deep roots." The brutal asari twisted the patch of his throat very slightly and smiled warmly. "Now, in order to truly impart the brutal purity that is Eclipse onto our newest members...", beckoned Sederis, lightly gesturing to the six or so dozen terrified recruits that had been watching the interrogation. "...your death will be spectacular, and we will feel it as one."
Sederis turned her eyes black as night and flashed her teeth. "Embrace the void, or be blinded by the sun.", she whispered, initiating the meld. Her mind was filled with his terror, rage and pain, while his was filled with her exhilaration, violence, and joy. The woman was forcing him to him to experience both sides of his own death, as she did the same.
The brutal asari slammed her jaw down onto the krogan's fleshy throat, gripped the side of his armored neck in a vice, and gnashed her teeth deep into the meat like a feral varren. She jerked her head back and brutally tore out his throat, pouring nerve fluid and blood across her and the recruits. Many vomited, and others ran to certain death. Sederis quickly burdened those that fled with biotically shattered legs, having evolved past the need for physical mnemonics long ago.
Even as life rapidly drained from the krogan, Sederis strengthened the meld, forcing his last moments and thoughts to be of her own design. Tuchanka, bright and green. He had a family now. A mate, a dozen children. He was happy, and his eldest son had been born a biotic. As a father, he could not have been more proud. The krogan had sent her all of his rage, pain and begrudging gratitude for such a vivid memory. Even in death, Sederis was in total control.
As Sederis came out of the joining, her collection of stolen memories growing ever larger, she released the krogan's lifeless body from her hold and it fell to the ground in a heap. She turned around and stared hard at the recruits, crushing the krogan's throat as she balled her hand into a fist. "As all of you can see quite clearly, I, and my organization, will not tolerate mercy, pity or any such weakness we deem detrimental to Eclipse."
She walked through the crowd, the horrified masses giving her a wide berth on instinct alone. "Eclipse is brutality. Eclipse is power, overwhelming and insurmountable. We cannot be ignored, for we will darken the stars themselves simply to terrify those that feed on the light!", bellowed Sederis, her booming voice becoming more passionate with every word.
The brutal asari stopped just before their Ikina District FOB's large, impromptu landing pad, the still burning chaos of the battlefield coming back into view. So far, securing the Ikina district had gone over relatively well. Besides a few holdouts, Eclipse had gained total control of the district, and many of her people were celebrating that as a victory. For children, yes, but not for Sederis. Her prize, and thus theirs, was far grander.
They needed a reminder, lest they weaken.
Sederis turned back to the terrified masses with a harsh glare. She opened up the comm channel she used for organization-wide announcements and gritted her teeth. "Eclipse, today, you have fought valiantly. As a result, many of you are now under the tantalizing misconception that we have won whatever tiny, meaningless trifle of this station, and that it is now our own!", she snarled.
"We have conquered, yes, but we did not win. Our battle today was not a victory. Political power, land, resources, spoils, dominance...these are not our goals, nor true goals in any sense. They are constructs created by those who fear what we can, and will, become! Just as you are powerless to stop the setting of the sun, so too will all be against Eclipse!", roared Sederis, her speech bordering on tyrannical charisma.
The crowd, and everyone on the comm channel, responded with loud, cultist cheering.
Sederis grinned and walked up the loading ramp of her Mantis gunship. She gripped one of the bars attached to the passenger door and leaned out of the craft. "We have no creed, nor allegiance to any sovereign body! Our power blinds them, so that we may live as we see fit! Freedom from any and all who might oppress us! WE ARE A FORCE OF NATURE! GODDESSES AMONG MORTALS!". The brutal asari motioned for the pilot to take off, and not a moment later the A-61 roared to life, its thrusters swatting debris away like paper. "WHO BINDS US?!", she asked, raising her fist into the air as the gunship did the same.
"NONE!"
"WHO OBEYS US!?"
"NONE!", screamed her people as the Mantis soared far from the crowd.
"WHO FEARS US?!" The brown murky cityscape of Omega was became more and more dull every time she looked at it. The burning buildings and fallen frigates were a beautiful touch, but still it wasn't enough to hold her attention for very long. Still, the mantra needed reinforcement, so she endured.
"ALL!"
"WHO ARE WE?!"
"ECLIPSE!"
Sederis hummed as she closed the channel, content with the progress she'd made in just few short weeks on this station. She'd whipped the entire Omega section of Eclipse back into her state of mind, as, through no fault of his own, Jaroth had imparted his less than absolute sensibilities to her followers. It was not a mistake he'd made lightly, and she'd understood. The death of his brother simply made failure less of an option for him. He had no close family but his dalatrass, now.
The brutal asari opened a link to Jaroth, her white eyes glaring down at the station below with contempt. "Jaroth, get me a location on the Mad Prophet's broadcast center. He's a rallying cry, and we need to neutralize him."
"I'll get the techs on it, though we've already been trying to figure that out for months. Anything else, ma'am?"
Sederis opened her hand and stared thoughtfully at her piece of the krogan's throat. "Begin investigating these red vorcha I keep hearing about. The descriptions I've heard are..." The brutal asari tossed the bloody patch of flesh out of the gunship and sealed the doors behind her. Her eyes flickered pure white and her lips twitched. "...worrisome."
-(|)-
"NORTH SIDE! CONCENTRATE FIRE!", screamed Shepard as she unloaded the rest of her assault rifle's thermal clip. The heavy, explosive tungsten ammo block sent streams of armor piercing rounds into the eternally advancing vorcha horde. Volley after volley burrowed beneath their flesh and detonating a moment later, splattering limbs and meat in every direction.
"Got it!" Miranda turned, her movements now sluggish, and did the same, slowing down yet another push for the IFV. Her hair was thick with sweat, and the long gashes on her cheek were scabbed three times over. "Zaeed, for God's sake will you just take down that building already?!"
"You're asking me to make on the fly demolitions calculations with a cannon I've never used before on a blown apart apartment building I've never laid eyes on!", rebutted Zaeed. "WHY DON'T YOU CLIMB DOWN OUT OF MY ASS FOR ONE GUDDAMN SECOND SO I CAN MAKE SURE I DON'T CRUSH US INSTEAD OF PLUGGING UP THESE FUCKING HOLES!?"
Dr. Ceres, who'd to her credit had actually picked up a rifle and started shooting after escape became complicated, biotically hurled another line of vorcha back into the breach. She fought with such trained efficiency that Shepard was positive she'd been a huntress earlier in life. "Zaeed, just breathe and focus. Miranda clearly doesn't appreciate how delicate a procedure this is."
"Are you kidding? He's trying to shove a rectangle into a round hole!", grumbled Miranda.
Shepard, despite this being a very deadly situation, had to laugh at that. "Zaeed, you ever play with blocks as a kid?", she snickered as she blasted apart a few more vorcha with her salvaged AT-12 Raider, the dual rapid-fire shots of explosive flechette ripping through them like butter.
"You think you're real clever, don't you?"
"Yup."
With a moat of red vorcha around them and an IFV that, unlike its younger brother, couldn't jump, their odds of survival had been approximately zero. No clear routes of escape existed, and they were trapped in no man's land. While it was true that they had cover in the form of a parking lot filled with skycars, it didn't amount to anything in the face of the red vorcha. They could just tear through it like it was paper, and they weren't exactly shooting back.
In the midst of the chaos, Zaeed had realized that by blowing up a building just right, he could collapse the debris into the chasm and make a jury-rigged bridge.
"Okay, got it! Once I hit it, it's gonna be thirty seconds before we can fuck off, so ready up!" A synchronized timer popped up on her omni-tool. "We're on the clock!"
"Alright, this is it! Everyone pile in, and start praying!" Shepard tensed her jaw and tossed the rest of her grenades into the advancing horde, turning a cluster to meat. "Zaeed, fire!".
"Guddamn right!" The Barracuda's main gun boomed, launching an anti-tank round into the last remaining support beam of a six-story building across the moat. It creaked, shuddered and began to fall completely apart in the direction of the chasm. "Beautiful shot!
Twenty-five seconds.
Shepard launching herself into biotic charge toward the IFV. The woman arrived just above the Barracuda's top hatch, kicked it open, fell into the driver's seat and sealed the door behind her. She quickly shoved her shotgun and rifle to the side and disabled the engine safeties. If they were going to make it out of this, she needed to redline it.
Seventeen seconds.
Her eyes flicked toward the internal camera feed, and was relieved to see everyone had made it back inside. "Keep the ramp open and fire on the bastards! They'll chase after us!" Shepard slammed her foot onto the pedal. The Barracuda's six wheels dug into the scarred metal road and roared forward, picking up as much speed as it could.
Ten seconds.
Shepard felt the vehicle roar with speed, as if it was just as desperate to escape as the rest of them. Suddenly, as her head finally grasped the image of that massive building coming down directly in front of her, she realized that this was by far one of the stupidest things she'd ever done.
"Shepard, you're cutting this a little close!", yelled Zaeed over the stream of automatic gunfire coming from the passenger cabin. "Christ, never mind! These fuckers are stupid fast! Gun it!"
Six seconds.
"I've got this!", she snapped back, once again eyeing that red button she'd never once gotten to press. Her instructors had told her, time and time again, that the big red button was only to be used in the most dire of emergencies, since it could endanger the lives of everyone on board. Ironically, that carpet bombing she was running from all those years ago was the one day that it didn't work.
Two seconds.
"...fuck you, Anderson." Shepard pressed the button.
Zero.
Just as the building crashed down into the pits, the Barracuda's rear jets screamed to life, giving it a massive burst of speed. It's chassis rattled and shook, as it strained to maintain its stability from the boost. The IFV smashed through the debris, barreling over the makeshift bridge and onward to freedom.
All of them whooped, save for Vasir who hadn't been the most receptive lately, as loud as they possibly could, and Shepard had to refrain from beeping the horn a few thousand times. Relief washed over her, and surely the others as well. Clocking in at 200 kilometers an hour, the rear jets extinguished themselves, and the Barracuda continued to speed away from their potential grave.
"I just want to point out that all of my plans have worked so far. Y'know, for the record. Collateral damage doesn't seem so guddamn stupid now, does it?", chuckled Zaeed.
"Counterpoint.", said Shepard, feeling very playful as she'd just cheated death. "Ignoring you by listening to the radio.". She flipped it on, only to be, once again, greeted by the broadcast of the Mad Prophet. "Oh, for the love of..."
"There are lines being drawn, brothers and sisters! Legions shall join the free! Exiles of all creeds! Even those who bow to the eyes and ears of the heartless bastions will shatter their bonds and join us in our new, beautiful world! The slow, feeble, young, dying, zealotus, neutered, and cursed peoples will shout in one voice that we are not to be ignored! All are one-"
"You know what?" Shepard flipped it off and focused on driving. "No radio. Zaeed, let's discuss it when we get back, ok?"
"Fair enough."
"Might I inquire where it is we're going, exactly?", asked Rolan.
"...somewhere safe."
-(|)-
A/N: The M-080 Barracuda gets rear jets because, ironically, it can't jump.
Anyone here play Left 4 Dead? Totally unrelated. Probably.
Sound waves shattering reinforced military polymers? Impossible, I think, but I'm invoking 'Rule of Cool' and 'Chekov's Gun', so now it's legit.
Jona Sederis was already that crazy, let's be honest. I just...let her off the leash, so to speak. If anyone tells you Eclipse was founded after the Suns, think about that. Isn't that just...weird? PMCs would be around for CENTURIES at this point, especially the good ones.
Rolan Quarn, ladies and gentleman! For those who don't recall, he was in the Citadel DLC, and had an arc during the Cerberus News Network's run.
Zealotus is actually a real word. Surprised me, too.
I am 3 for 3 on sort-of-Mitch Hurwitz/Dan Harmon-level clever chapter titles. If you know who the second guy is: #SixSeasonsandaMovie :)
Feel free to drop a review right below in that box. Even if it's scathing hate or like two words, I'd love to read it.