Chapter Six: The Tables are Turned
Rygon hadn't thought much of the human's chances when she'd appeared in his clinic, beaten and bloody but she was proving herself to be quite difficult to kill. Despite himself, Rygon sat on the edge of his seat, riveted by the action onscreen. More and more often he found himself shaking a fist and muttering, "Come on, come on!" as the woman, Shepard no less, battled her way across the urban wastes.
Rygon experienced what could have been termed a 'heart-stopping moment' when Shepard encountered one half of the Twins. Those huntresses had always made Rygon intensely uneasy, carrying themselves as they did with a confidence born from knowing they could take apart any opponent at any time. Then there was the way they would look at him sometimes, as though questioning whether it would be worth the effort necessary to kill him.
As Shepard lay slumped on the ground, surely having endured more than any being could take, the medic turned away from the screen, unwilling to bear witness to her death. Head held in his hands, Rygon jerked as the high-pitched shrieks of the asari assaulted his sensitive ears. Rygon spun his chair around just in time to witness the Spectre running the huntress through with her own blade.
Even as Shepard slumped to the ground, utterly spent, Rygon surged out of his seat, and actually jumped for joy.
Once again, hope began to kindle in his heart. Eyes shining, the medic held fast to the feeling as hard as he could.
---
"She must be put down," Karrick muttered. He was feeling a grudging respect for the humans, Shepard in particular. For her to kill a former asari commando so soon after defeating the turian was impressive. Less impressive was the seeming inability of the hunters to put down a pair of ill-equipped and increasingly injured humans. Females, at that.
"Where is Bex?" Karrick snarled to nobody in particular. Since entering the hunting grounds, the krogan had made himself scarce, seemingly content to observe the action rather than take part in it.
Karrick turned away from the vidscreens and looked over at the space he'd cleared on his trophy wall. The space reserved for Shepard's head.
"Inform the krogan that if he doesn't make an effort to bring the humans to ground, we'll be coming for him."
Jorik departed the office without a word.
---
Shepard sat with her back against a crumbling red-brick wall, recovering some of her strength after the battle with the asari. The Spectre drank from a bottle of electrolyte fluid carried on the asari's belt. Used by biotics in the field, the drink was designed to allow faster recovery after heavy combat.
As the Spectre drank, she studied the slightly curved blade that had so very recently been at home in the asari's chest. Storm looked on wordlessly as Shepard planted a boot on the body, holding it down as she drew the blade back out. The metal squeaked slightly as it came free, as though reluctant to part with its owner. Shepard wiped it against her thigh armour, leaving a bluish smear.
"What are you planning to do with that, Ma'am?" Storm finally asked. She risked a look at her commander's eyes - they seemed infinitely cold and calculating. The flat quality of her gaze, combined with the scar running down her left cheek, a souvenir from Earth, lent the Commander a suddenly sinister look.
Hayley suppressed a shudder and looked away, finding something of immense interest in her omni-tool instead.
"Right at the start of all this, I had a little 'chat' with Karrick."
Shepard sat, drank from the bottle, studied the blade. Storm waited for her to resume speaking. "Before I parted his oh so charming company, I made him a promise, Lieutenant."
Again, Shepard fell silent, contemplating the weapon. The blade had likely been mass-produced in some factory, a soulless reproduction of a weapon that, in ages long past, had been forged in the fires of war. A true warrior's weapon.
"I promised that I was going to come back for him. And take his hands." Shepard looked up at the other woman, looked at her with those eyes and Hayley felt a thread of true terror worm through her. The Commander wasn't making an idle threat, possibly for the benefit of any holocameras monitoring them. And she wasn't even telling herself that to psych herself up for one final push.
She meant it. She really meant it. The simple, flat way in which Shepard delivered her words chilled Storm more than anything she'd encountered thus far had.
Shepard looked up at the Lieutenant from where she sat against the wall. Swallowing the dregs of the electrolyte replacement drink, Shepard tossed the bottle aside. "I'm scaring you, aren't I?" she asked, voice softening.
"A little, yes," Storm admitted. Her gazed flicked from Shepard's blue eyes, now seeming lighter than before, back to her omni-tool display. The scans were clean. If she didn't know any better, she could almost believe they were alone out here.
"Understand one thing, Lieutenant. We didn't start this," she waved a hand to encompass the area and Storm nodded. "But we're going to finish it. One way or another. Do I make myself clear?"
Storm's posture straightened and she nodded. "Crystal."
Blade in hand, Shepard climbed to her feet, wincing at the aches that had settled in her joints and muscles. The crawling sensation emanating from her bio-amp port had mostly abated but she was loath to use her abilities again unless it became absolutely necessary. Reports of human biotics overusing their abilities to the point of death or permanent disablement were relatively few but there were relatively few human biotics and Shepard had no wish to drop dead from a brain aneurysm. Not when they were so close to their objective.
As they continued towards the garage complex, Shepard's mind began working on ways to best handle things. A head on assault was out of the question. The two of them simply lacked the firepower necessary to breach the enemy defenses. A better plan would be to employ Storm and her sniper skills. Drop the guards at the perimeter. Maybe find a way to cause a diversion of some sort. Spark an explosion with a fuel tank and a shot from her inferno loaded sidearm, perhaps.
---
Bex was in a quandary. The krogan had long desired a target against which he could truly test himself and now here was Shepard, his for the taking. But, as he observed the pair of humans, Shepard covering the other's advance, blade and sidearm in hand, he felt a curious desire - not the desire to meet them in battle but a desire to fight alongside them against their true enemy - Karrick. The batarian wanted Shepard dead and all for the sake of his petty personal agendas but he wasn't willing to leave the safety of his office suite to bring her down himself. Bex's lip curled in a snarl of contempt.
The words of Karrick's lackey rang in his ears, even after they'd spoken, "Bring in her head or we'll come for you."
Bex had grunted noncommittally and clicked off. He wanted Shepard, yes. But not now and not like this. He wanted to face her on a true battlefield, not this contrivance dreamed up as a source of perverse amusement. He wanted to face Shepard at the peak of her abilities, fully armed and armoured.
He wanted to know that he was capable of killing her without her being handicapped in any way as she was now.
"So you will just let her walk away?" he muttered to himself. Karrick will be most displeased. "Karrick can blow me," he answered himself. There would be no honour in this, slaughtering them both like animals.
Watching Shepard and her companion from his position in an alleyway choked with stinking refuse and the mouldering bones of past competitors, Bex got Jorik on the comm.
"Have you made a decision, krogan?"
"I have," Bex rumbled, turning away from the humans. "Tell Karrick that if he wants Shepard's head so badly, he can come down and take it himself. Shepard is a warrior and deserves better than to be hunted down like a rabid varren."
"You cannot-" Jorik sputtered before Bex severed the connection.
---
"I was always willing to tolerate Bex and his misplaced sense of honour, until now," Karrick stood hands clasped behind his back as Jorik delivered the news. His four-eyed gaze stared unblinkingly at the krogan's immense form as he was tracked by holocameras
"Assemble a commando team. They are to bring the krogan in alive if at all possible. He will serve as an example of what happens to those who defy me. Plus think of the ratings if we play it right - hunter turned hunted. The great krogan warrior humbled and brought low. The fools will lap it up."
"What of the humans?" Jorik asked after passing along the orders.
"I've been monitoring their communications through the camera network. They want to mount an offensive and escape. Let them come."
"Shall I alert the security detail?"
Karrick laughed, a short barking sound, "No. I believe the time has come to, as humans say 'shake things up.' Those who survive the humans' attempt to escape are to be promoted those that don't shall still serve as examples of how not to perform their duties."
Jorik nodded dutifully, keeping his own opinions to himself. In his view, Karrick was being far too blase about the humans, Shepard especially. For them to have come so far given the limitations placed on them was telling. And now Karrick was going to allow the humans to mount an assault on an unprepared position. Jorik closed his eyes. Between Bex's apparent defection and the humans' refusal to lie down and die, Jorik felt things were beginning to slip from Karrick's grasp. That the other batarian seemed not to care worried Jorik even more. But Karrick was in charge and Jorik would do as he was ordered. He just hoped it would be enough.
---
Seen through the rifle's scope, the two batarians on guard duty may well have been characters in some holo-drama - standing nonchalantly by a side entrance to the garage building, talking and joking with one another. Completely oblivious to the mass accelerated rounds about to give them the mother of all headaches.
Storm's right index finger tightened down on the trigger and the left-most guard fell back, the wall behind him painted with the contents of his skull. Before his friend could do more than gape in shock, the marine was working the bolt-action and firing again. The second batarian fell, collapsing like an unstrung puppet.
"Clear," Storm whispered into her comm. Even as Shepard responded, a thought bubbled up in the Lieutenant's mind This is too easy.
"Copy that. Hold position."
Hayley kept watching the area around the vehicle garage through her scope. They had chosen to attack at this secondary entrance because it was far enough away from the activity at the main entrance where batarians and slaves worked at loading and unloading vehicles or performing maintenance. Slaves. That was another wrinkle, the Lieutenant thought. The mental conditioning, 'brainwashing' they'd been put through at the hands of their captors likely meant they'd fight and die to stop any threats to their masters. Worse, the batarians would probably use their slaves as meatshields, hoping that the humans wouldn't attack through them.
Storm swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry at the thought. Could she do it? Gun down an unarmed person if it meant saving her own life? She wasn't naive enough to think she wouldn't be faced with the choice. Could she gun down an unarmed person to save Shepard? Yes, in a heartbeat. And she knew Shepard wouldn't hesitate to kill an innocent if it meant saving her either.
"The deaths of innocents to save your own skin. They didn't mention this in basic," she muttered to herself.
"I don't like it either," Shepard said quietly as she joined the Lieutenant. "If we can find a way to subdue them without killing them, fine. If not...it'll be another crime that Karrick's guilty of."
Pulling away from the rifle scope, Storm met Shepard's eyes and nodded.
Shepard placed a reassuring hand on the other woman's shoulder and gave a brief squeeze. They were both on the edge of falling apart, mentally if not physically and Shepard hoped the simple contact, even through their hardsuits would reinforce the face that they weren't completely alone out here.
"Just this last hurdle, Hayley," Shepard said. You liar. You could leave things at simply stealing a rover, and infiltrating a ship but no, you have to have your moment with Karrick. And killing him will solve what, exactly? The batarians aren't going to have an epiphany and decide slaving is immoral and stop doing it.
As though reading her thoughts, the younger woman replied, "No. You and Karrick have a little dance before we're ready to leave."
Shepard nodded, unwilling to face her eyes, "I must look like some macho hero in a holovid. Going one on one with the head bad guy before the end credits roll. But it's more than that," she continued as they made their way towards the garage.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Commander," Storm cut in. She collapsed the rifle, slotting it into the hardpoint on her armour and taking up her pistol.
"I'm not sure I can even explain this to myself," Shepard muttered as they came upon the heavy metal door. The access panel set into the wall to the right glowed red.
"Locked," Shepard said dryly, "What a surprise."
Stepping over the bodies of the guards, whose faces stamped with identical expressions of surprise, Storm inspected the lock.
"Standard cryptolock. Thank God for standardisation and corporations monopolising things. Makes my job so much easier."
Shepard smiled to herself at the Lieutenant's stream of consciousness whilst keeping watch for any threats. A cheerful sounding bleep emanated from the lock and the door slid upwards.
Storm stepped away from the door, pistol at the ready, glancing at her HUD. "Scans are clean."
Shepard nodded and the two officers entered the garage facility.
---
"What the hell is going on out there?" Karn muttered, watching the tavern's holoscreen. After that stunning bit of girl-on-girl action between Shepard and the asari, during which the entire population of the bar was convinced that the human was meat, there had been a grand total of...nothing.
Well not nothing. First there was footage of the other human happening upon Shepard's damnably live form and administering first aid followed by some oh so riveting footage of Shepard sitting on her can having a drink and talking!
Oh sure, she made some proclamation about cutting off Karrick's hands with the katana she'd used to such great effect on the asari but everybody knew that was just idle talk meant to psych herself up. Then the two women getting up and walking towards a garage facility located just off the hunting grounds, with the apparent aim of stealing a vehicle, hitting the spaceport and hijacking a ship!
"This is beginning to feel like a badly plotted holodrama," Karn went on, holding up his beer stein for a refill. As the rotund volus bartender took the stein and turned to the beer taps, Lurn spoke up.
"Where's Bex? That's what I want to know. It's like he just decided to take the night off and do whatever krogan do when they aren't killing people."
As Kirin placed the now-full beer stein on the bar top, he gasped in a breath, "Perhaps he is biding his time and waiting for the humans to drop their guard."
"That better be what he's planning," Karn said as he took another drink.
"Oh look! Now she's cracking a lock on a door!" Lurn said disgustedly.
---
The two Alliance officers crouched low in the shadows inside the cavernous vehicle garage. The ceiling mounted lights illuminated only the vehicles being worked on as well as the work benches and storage lockers, providing plenty of hiding spots deeper inside the building. The audio pickups inside their hardsuit helmets fed the soldiers sounds typical of a repair facility - pneumatic tools and air compressors, metallic clanks and the snap of arc-welders.
Storm checked her omni-tool's sensor readouts. "I'm picking up a pair of hardsuit energy signatures at the main entrance. Stationary."
"Alright, follow my lead. We take down any armed hostiles. If any slaves get in the way, subdue them however you can. I have enough blood on my hands." Shepard fell silent, remembering Virmire.
Storm primed a tech mine. "A damping field will have them writhing around in agony long enough for us to escape but won't do any permanent damage. I just hope the batarians don't kill the slaves in retaliation for us doing this."
Moving from the shadows, the two women used heavy metal crates and parked vehicles as cover, edging closer to the front of the building. As they moved up behind one of the black-painted prison-vans, a metallic sound rang out as something large and heavy fell to the cracked permacrete floor. The sound was immediately followed by a harsh batarian voice, "Worthless human scum! That equipment is worth more than your hide! Be more careful!" The batarian gave a grunt of effort and the slave cried out. Shepard grit her teeth at the unmistakable sound of a neural lash.
Something inside her, some fraying piece of her self-control, broke and she was across the space separating them from the slavers in seconds.
"Dammit!" Storm hissed, moving to support her CO.
Ilkterr stood over the cowering human, breath wheezing in and out of his throat as he flailed away with the lash. The sound of running footsteps distracted him and he turned, eyes widening in shock.
The human slammed into him bodily, forcing him to the floor. Before he could even move to resist, his head was bouncing off the permacrete, stained with engine oil and coolant. Once, and he grunted in pain, twice and his sight wavered, three times and he knew nothing more.
Shepard pushed herself to her feet, hand going to her shotgun as the guards at the front arrived to see what the commotion was. Before her, the slave scrambled backwards away from her, eyes wide with fear. The batarian lay motionless between them, eyes rolled back.
"She killed the master!" the slave repeated over and over, voice flat and declamatory. He pointed to Shepard as the guards arrived.
"Move aside!" a guard snapped and the slave ran outside.
From behind Shepard, a shot rang out and the closer of the two guards fell back, hands going to his throat as blackish blood spurted. Shepard levelled the shotgun and fired, the sound echoing off the metal walls. A ragged hole the size of a serving platter appeared in the slaver's torso and he too collapsed, a small lake of blood rapidly spreading from the corpse.
The vehicle the slave had been working on was a six-wheeled rover similar to the Alliance M35. Linking her omni-tool into the rover's onboard systems, Storm ran a diagnostic check. "They must have just finished up on this one, everything's fine."
"Good. I'm getting tired of running everywhere," Shepard commented, pulling herself into the driver's seat. The controls and readouts were annotated with batarian characters but the basic layout was similar to what she'd seen before and she had little trouble pressing the appropriate buttons to turn over the engine.
Storm slid into the passenger seat, transferring fire control for the roof mounted turret to her position.
Beneath them, the fusion engine rumbled to life and the kinetic barriers hummed as they began charging.
"Where to now? The spaceport?" Storm asked, hoping Shepard could somehow get past her need for vengeance. Her hopes were dashed when Shepard shook her head.
"Bring up that map of the hunting grounds," she ordered. Wordlessly, the Lieutenant accessed the data files stored in the omni-tool, tightbeaming them to the rover's nav system.
"That's the main complex. Karrick's office," Storm pointed at the building then to another, "This looks like the production offices where they package up the footage and broadcast it. We take out their transmitters..."
Shepard smiled, "Game over."
---
"Oh what now?" Lurn cried as the vidscreen went suddenly blank. A message appeared in the centre of the screen, Pay Per Slay Temporarily Interrupted. Normal Service will Resume Shortly
---
The rover met no resistance on the way from the garage to the transmission tower, a tall structure jutting up into the darkened sky like an accusatory finger. "You want to do the honours?" Shepard turned to face the Lieutenant as she brought the rover to a halt.
"Hell yeah," Hayley replied, gripping the controls for the main gun. Servomotors whined, bringing the anti-vehicle armament around to lock onto the tower. "Maybe I'm tempting fate here but the lack of any resistance is beginning to freak me out."
"Nobody expected a mere human to be able to accomplish anything like this. We've gone a long way off the script - we fought when we were supposed to cower, we stood firm when we were supposed to falter we...you know what? Just fire the damn cannon."
"Ma'am," Storm replied, hitting the triggers. The cannon boomed and the vehicle shuddered. The transmission tower's base crumpled then it collapsed under its own weight, the sounds of metal screaming and rending carrying into the vehicle's cockpit.
---
"What has she done?" Karrick stared aghast at the bank of monitors. Every one was blank.
"They must have destroyed the transmitters," Jorik surmised.
"Alert the guards, they'll be coming here next and lock down the spaceport. They must not be allowed to reach this office!"
As Jorik left to oversee the defenses, Karrick began arming himself for the inevitable confrontation with Shepard. He was a businessman, an entrepreneur. He wasn't cut out for this. He had hordes of soldiers ready to die by his command so he wouldn't have to but he knew it wouldn't be enough and with Bex roaming out there somewhere, his worries were doubled. Karrick snarled to himself. Things were coming unravelled and he was forced to admit to himself that he didn't know how to rein things in.
---
A shot rang off the hull of the rover as Shepard and Storm hunkered down behind it. A squad of batarians wearing their trademark black armour was advancing on their position. In the distance stood the building complex the batarians had herded them towards when they'd first arrived. The destruction of the tower seemed to have lit a fire under Karrick; batarians were bearing down on them in increasing numbers. Again a round spanged off the hull. The small arms carried little risk of breaching the armour but it was only a matter of time before the vehicle was flanked.
"Storm, disable their weapons," Shepard ordered. Without replying, the junior officer flung a primed EMP mine into the batarians' midst.
Both women rolled out from behind cover, weapons blazing and within seconds the enemy squad was down. Shepard shot a glance at another group of soldiers heading towards them, "We can't take them all out on foot, fall back to the rover!" Snapping off shots from her pistol, Shepard covered the younger officer's retreat.
Storm reached the cockpit of the vehicle, paused to look back and gasped as Shepard staggered, injured. "Shepard!"
"Get in the damn tank!" she bit back, holding her side. Shepard stumbled back, firing one handed. Blood flowed from a gunshot wound in her side, the mass accelerator round exploiting a weak point between two ceramel plates. I will not go down like this, not when I've come so far!
Storm grabbed Shepard and pulled her to safety. Shepard groaned as she hauled herself into the seat. More gunfire rang off the hull.
Breath rasping in and out of her lungs, Shepard put the vehicle in gear and aimed it right at the advancing troops. Bracing herself for impact, she floored the pedal. Batarians threw themselves aside as the vehicle roared by, wheels crushing the already-dead soldiers.
"Lieutenant," Shepard ground out, fighting back the pain as she was tossed around in her restraints, "Put a round through the main doors up ahead."
By way of reply, Storm triggered the main gun and the doors leading into the main building exploded in a hail of metal fragments.
For good measure, Storm aimed the anti-personnel minigun down the hallway and triggered a long burst. The gun fired with an amplified tat-tat-tat, the rounds chewing up walls, floors and ceiling. Through the battered cockpit windows, Hayley saw several splashes of gore as hapless batarians were caught inside the building, unable to escape the cannon fire.
Shepard brought the vehicle to a stop just outside the shattered entryway.
Storm turned to look at her, slumped in her seat with only the five-point harness keeping her from sliding out of her seat. "Ma'am?" she began, fearing the worst. The rumble of the rover's engine filled the silence.
Shepard's head rose in fits and starts, pain clearly etched on her features. She swallowed and slowly began unbuckling the restraints. Her fingers, slick with own blood, slid off the buckles. Head falling backwards, she glanced over at the Lieutenant. "I'm not going to make it, Hayles," she muttered. Shepard felt so tired and weak. The wound in her side, combined with the beatings and her overusing her biotics had sapped her strength. She could almost hear the voices of her old squad-mates, the ones lost on Akuze, calling out to her. Come home, LT, come home. And oh, she so wanted to go home. Thoughts of petty vengeance slipped from her mind as she fell closer and closer to unconsciousness.
Her eyes snapped painfully open as the Lieutenant jammed the pointy end of a medi-gel injectable, their last one, through the bullet hole and directly into the wound. The cry of pain changed into a moan of relief as the anaesthetic compound took hold, sending a wave of drug-induced bliss through her being.
"Open your eyes, Alison," Storm said quietly. She rarely addressed superiors by their given names, it felt almost like a breach of protocol and, most times, protocol simplified things. A superior entered the room, she came to attention and saluted. A superior officer gives her an order, she says "Aye sir," or "Aye ma'am." She most certainly does not stab her superior officer in her bullet wound in order to inject medi-gel and stave off death for just a little while longer.
"Ally?" Oh great, start using a pet name she probably hasn't heard since she was ten, brilliant job, Hayley, "You still with me?"
Shepard nodded and with renewed vigour, unbuckled her harness. "Who taught you battlefield first aid, Lieutenant? Jack the Ripper?"
"No, his father," Storm quipped, glad that the Commander hadn't called her on the first name thing.
Shepard inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly and looked down at herself. Though the bleeding had stopped, the portion of her hardsuit covering her lower abdomen was almost soaked.
Shepard closed her eyes again, breathed deeply through her nostrils. Finally, she levered herself out of the cockpit, brought up the shotgun and, without looking back, entered the building.
Storm slid from her seat, pistol at the ready and followed her.
Picking their way past the shattered remains of the door and the wreckage wrought by the minigun, the Alliance officers headed down the hallway, lights flickering with a strobe-like effect. "Where's the elevator to Karrick's office?" Shepard inquired.
"Just up ahead, the hallway opens out into a kind of lobby with banks of elevators. I'm reading multiple hardsuit emissions though."
"How many?"
"At least fifteen."
Shepard smirked, "The more the merrier." Shepard breathed deeply again, smelling the spilled blood of the batarians torn up by the minigun and raised a biotic barrier, the blue-white corona illuminating the hallway as they neared the elevators. The crawling feeling at the base of her skull cranked up a notch. "Not now," she pleaded with herself, "Please not now."
For her part, Storm primed a pair of tech mines designed to overheat weapons and held them both loosely in her left hand. Just toss and fire. Don't think, don't over analyse just toss and fire.
Storm and Shepard, Hayley and Alison entered the lobby. Storm tossed and fired.
"Incoming! Find cover," a batarian shouted, diving behind a desk. Shepard turned and fired, the shotgun booming loudly in the closed space and the batarian fell back, face erased. She pumped and fired again, then twice more. The weapon emitting a frantic-sounding beep as it overheated. Dropping it, Shepard drew her sidearm, shots rattling off in quick succession. More batarians fell. Beside her, Storm's omni-tool flared amber in the dimly lit room, and a batarian's shields failed. Hayley shot him pointblank. Then twice more for good measure.
Shepard strode forward, firing the pistol until it too overheated. Without breaking stride, she tossed the gun aside, slapped her hand to the sidearm taken from the asari and kept firing. Movement from the corner of her eye caused her to turn; a batarian wielding a shotgun rose from behind a desk and, without thinking, Shepard hurled him back with a biotic throw. "Ahhh," she moaned. A sharp pain flared up behind her eyes before settling into a dull ache.
"Shepard?"
"I'm good," she dismissed the other woman's concerns. How far away from permanent brain damage am I? One more throw? Two? A warp, perhaps?
"I think that's all of them," Storm said. She stood in the centre of the bullet-riddled room. The walls had been peppered with stray rounds and most of the lighting panels were shattered, casting the room into darkness. Only the glow from her omni-tool gave Storm enough light to see by.
Shepard palmed the control to the elevator. It obstinately refused to open.
Wordlessly, the Spectre pointed to the control panel, standing aside so the Lieutenant could over-ride the lockdown.
Jorik lay on the floor of the lobby, his blood soaking into the plush carpeting. Shepard had been utterly relentless and fifteen of the finest batarian commandos on-planet had been shot dead in mere moments. Blood bubbled out from the chest wound she'd inflicted on him and each intake of breath was like a flaming blade thrust in and out of his body. His right hand loosely grasped his sidearm. He didn't have much time left, he realised. Minutes at most. He ran through the sequence of actions in his fevered mind: raise the arm holding the gun from the floor, swing it up to aim at the back of Shepard's head, squeeze his index finger down on the trigger.
Jorik's hand trembled at the end of his arm and with a titanic effort, the gun rose up, not in the smooth motion he'd envisioned only seconds earlier but in jerks and spasms. After what felt like an age during which empires rose and fell, the sidearm was pointing at the hateful woman's head as she attempted to open the elevator doors. Jorik smiled to himself, he'd locked the elevator down himself and now it was going to help him kill the bitch. Shepard stood aside and her subordinate stepped up, omni-tool illuminating the area around her. After Shepard was dead, he'd kill her too.
Then, the cold sleep of the grave.
As she worked on decrypting the control panel, long dormant instincts came to life and Storm felt the fine hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. Abandoning the door, she spun around, gun sweeping up and saw, lying amidst the corpses and wreckage, a single badly wounded batarian shakily aiming a gun at Shepard. Shepard, who was slumped against the wall, clutching her side. Hayley hoped she was just asleep and hadn't died in the last thirty seconds.
The batarian's four eyes narrowed and his finger squeezed the trigger.
"No!" Hayley cried, slamming herself into the Commander, throwing her out of the line of fire. This is how you go out, taking a bullet for your CO.
Her kinetic barriers flared blue as they absorbed the hit, and a second round slammed into the wall, leaving a fist-sized crater. Hayley and Shepard fell to the floor, the latter grunting in pain and the former stumbling to her feet. I just dodged a bullet was the first coherent thought to break through the clamour in her mind. The batarian, arm shaking violently, attempted to line up a third shot.
"Shepard?" Storm called. "You OK back there?"
"Fine and dandy," the Spectre replied.
Storm nodded to herself, strode across the bloodied floor to the batarian and put a round through his head.
It was all over, Jorik thought. Despite his best efforts, the humans still lived. The blonde-haired one said something to Shepard, received a reply and began walking towards him until she loomed tall over him like some mythical titan. His lips moved as he tried to speak but no sound came out, only the hissing of air from his punctured lung. Jorik's eyes closed as he made his peace with the galaxy. He never heard that final gunshot.
Hayley stood over the body, hands clutching the pistol in a white-knuckled grip. She felt her heart pounding too hard, felt herself start to shake as the adrenaline rush faded. How many brushes with death could one person withstand before something inside them broke and they became irretrievably unhinged? That's something you should ask the Commander. She's been almost killed more times than anybody I know and she's still mostly sane.
"Lieutenant?" Shepard's voice came from behind her. "Thanks...for pushing me out of the way. I must've zoned out for a little while there. I should have had your back and I didn't."
Storm turned back to the other woman, again standing at the elevator doors. "You rode to my rescue when that turian bastard was about to fillet me, so I'm glad to return the favour."
This time, when she attempted to unlock the elevator, nobody tried to stop her.
---
Karrick paced back and forth in his office, past the walls of heads and weapons on display, always keeping his head turned towards the security camera feeds. The batarian warriors led by Jorik were gone. Jorik, with whom Karrick had entrusted so much, was gone. Bex was somewhere out there, likely massacring his way through Karrick's remaining people. And now Shepard was coming for him. Karrick watched her progress on the monitors as she headed down the hallway towards his office door. She paused just outside the door, said something to her companion who nodded. Onscreen, Shepard drew a longsword from where it had been carried amid her hardsuit's webbing and opened the door.
---
"Alright. We're here," Shepard said quietly. Storm nodded, they were back outside the same door they'd seen separately before. Only this time there weren't any batarians around to club her in the stomach for which Storm was grateful. Shepard turned to her subordinate, that same dark look in her eyes. "I want you to stay here and keep watch."
"Ma'am," Hayley nodded, unable to look away from those eyes. What she saw in their depths promised untold agony for the architect of their recent pain and troubles. So much agony.
"I'm going to go in there and do some things that most people would find distasteful," Shepard said quietly.
"By 'most people' you mean me?" Storm questioned.
"Yes," Shepard confirmed. "But I see a gentleness in you and that's something that I never want to see sullied or extinguished, Hayley. You're a marine now but one day, I hope you'll aspire to be something more. Something beyond an instrument of the Alliance's will."
"What..what are you saying?" Hayley whispered.
"When we get off this rock, go to your brother, spend time with your family. Be an aunt to your nieces. You miss them don't you? Your family?"
Hayley nodded silently. Her brother's presence in her thoughts and her memories of him the only thing that had given her the strength to come this far. She thought about that old piano from back home. Julian had better have kept it tuned.
"What are you going to do after all this?" Hayley's voice was barely a whisper and she felt more tears threatening. God, but she had always thought girls who cried all the time were such wimps and here she was, a regular leaking tap.
Shepard sighed. "I do what I always do."
Before she knew what she was doing, Hayley was pulling the other woman into a tight embrace. The weariness in Shepard's reply seemed too much for any one person to bear. At first Shepard felt stiff and unyielding but she relaxed and returned the embrace, resting her cheek on Hayley's shoulder. "I want you to come visit me some time, Commander. You have a right to see what you've spent your life fighting to preserve. You owe it to yourself." Breaking away from her CO, Storm stepped back, "And if you want to write me up for inappropriate conduct, I'll take that as well."
Shepard sniffed, wiped her eyes with a gloved hand and nodded. "Next shore leave, I'll make a side trip to Earth."
Turning back to the door, the Commander drew the katana, rolled her head from side to side and passed into what lay beyond.
---
Karrick stopped pacing as Shepard entered the office. Behind her the door slid shut. The human stood before him, eyeing him wordlessly. The blade in her right hand was pointed towards the floor and her fingers flexed around the hilt.
"So, here you are. What do you think you can accomplish by coming here, Shepard, hm?" Karrick stood by his desk, gun in hand and aimed at the floor.
"I'm going to kill you. But first I'm going to mess you up so badly you'll be begging me to finish you off."
Karrick managed a laugh. The irony was delicious. Humans thought themselves so much better than his people - oh no, humans never tortured and killed people, they were so far beyond that. "Killing me solves nothing," he hissed, feeling the rage build. "I die and what? The slaving operations will still go on. Pay Per Slay will live on."
"Maybe," Shepard replied walking slowly towards him. "But even so, you won't be around to profit from the deaths of any more of my people. I've learned to savour what small victories I can get. And maybe," Shepard continued, drawing closer to him. Karrick glanced at the gun in his hand. He could swing it up and fire any time. At this range, he couldn't miss.
The human smiled. "Maybe I'll come back here with the Normandy and a full complement of marines and take this place apart a brick at a time."
"You'd risk open war between the Terminus Systems and your pathetic Council over a few slaves?" Karrick spat.
Before he could move, Shepard's hand whipped around, the blade flashing up faster than his eyes could follow. Blood gouted from his wrist as his hand, still holding the pistol flew across the room.
Speaking loudly to be heard over his screams, Shepard answered Karrick's question, "A single ship won't start a war, even the Council admitted as much. But that's a matter for later. For now..:"
---
Hayley stood as far from the entrance to Karrick's office as she could. Even so, she still heard him screaming. The screaming didn't stop for a long, long time.
Eventually, hardsuit splashed with blood, Shepard re-emerged. She cast a glance at the blade still held in one hand as though surprised to see it there. Her hand opened and it fell to the floor with a dull thump. "It's done," was all she said. Storm nodded wordlessly.
---
The krogan stood between the shattered entrance to the main building and the rover when they exited. Storm felt as though she'd been punched in the stomach. All this way, they'd come all this way and now...
"Commander..." she trailed off. She halted beside Shepard, unsure what to do and settled for following her CO's lead. Shepard kept her arms by her sides, hands open.
"I suppose you're looking for some grand showdown for the benefit of your legion of fans?" Shepard asked. The krogan shook his head, gaze never wavering.
"No. I came to realise something, Shepard. We're warriors," he waved an arm to indicate them all. "One day, we will face each other across the field of battle and one of us will be the victor. But today is not that day. We're meant for better things than this...this mockery of battle," the krogan's voice rose in anger.
"So...you're letting us go?" Shepard half-believed this was an elaborate ruse, that even now, the game was still afoot.
"My name is Bex, Shepard and I greet you as a warrior," Bex held out a massive three-fingered hand. Storm opened her mouth to protest as Shepard stepped forward. Human and krogan stood, gazes locked as they shook hands.
"I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you but I'd be lying," Shepard said dryly.
Bex chuckled as he stepped back. "Until we meet again," was all he said before turning and ambling away.
Shepard watched him until he disappeared into the night before gesturing for Storm to get into the rover.
---
Jerr yawned widely, feeling his jaw pop as his mouth gaped open. He'd just about been finished with his guard shift when orders came down, doubling the watch on each ship at the spaceport. Apparently there'd been some trouble with one of the games; contestants were forgetting their place in the grand scheme of things and were believed to be making an escape attempt. Jerr laughed. Escape? It was preposterous. People who were captured and brought here either worked as slaves until they dropped dead or they were hunted until they dropped dead.
They most certainly did not escape - before he could finish his thought, he felt something cold and hard press against the back of his head.
"Hi there," a voice, female and human spoke quietly into his ear. He swallowed hard, feeling the warm puff of breath on the skin of his neck. "Slowly remove the ammo block from your weapon." Jerr did so, feeling himself shaking.
"Good boy. Now hand the whole thing over to the Commander."
As the woman spoke, a second human stepped around the ramp of the ship where he'd been standing and took hold of his weapon.
"Scuttlebutt says that a coupla humans are trying to escape, that about right?" the first woman said, still holding the gun on him.
"Ye-yeah," he managed to get out.
"Scuttlebutt's right."
"We're taking a ride in this ship," the one the first woman had referred to as the Commander said, "We're tired, hurt, and very very pissed off. If you help us get what we want and don't cause any trouble, you get to live. Screw with us and well....you can guess the rest."
Jerr nodded frantically, the gun scraping against his neck with the motion.
"Good. Now we're walking up the ramp here, but before that I want you to get on the comm and have the crew assemble in the mess. If I even think you're trying to pass along some kind of SOS I will kill you and try my luck with somebody less stupid. Do you understand?" the Commander's voice left him in no doubt that she was completely serious.
Jerr spoke into his helmet mike, "All crew aboard the Tempest assemble in the mess immediately." Jerr waited while they acknowledged before reporting success.
"Move," the Commander ordered and the three of them marched up the ramp.
The ship was a typical freighter of modular design - the compartments could be removed and replaced whilst in drydock, converting the ship from a passenger vessel to a cargo hauler or troop carrier as needed. Shepard observed that the current configuration was for cargo and saw little in the way of passenger facilities. That was good.
The two humans with their batarian hostage entered the mess hall, which was crowded to the point of standing room only. "What is the meaning of this?" a batarian wearing a captain's uniform demanded.
"Back home, we call this a hijacking," Shepard said, feeling more cheerful than she had in ages. She brought up her shotgun, pointing it at the Captain. "There's two ways we can do this: the hard way, or my way." Shepard grinned, "They're both pretty much the same."
"The guards will-" the Captain began before Storm cut him off.
"The guards at the perimeter are dead," she smiled slightly, as her mood lightened. "Unless you want to join them, you'd do well to follow the orders of your new captain," she nodded towards Shepard.
The Captain turned his gaze from each member of his crew before looking back at the humans. "I want your word that my crew will be unharmed if we co-operate," he said, hating the way his voice sounded.
The woman nodded soberly, smile gone. "You have my word."
The Captain turned to his first officer, "Mister Hira, prep the ship for launch, the rest of you get to your stations."
As the crew moved to bring the ship's systems online, Storm turned to the Commander, needing confirmation that this was really happening. She needed to hear Shepard say it. "We're really going home now?"
Shepard nodded, keeping a close watch on the crew members as they sat at their stations. "We're really going home."
---
A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter but I let myself get distracted with another project I'm thinking of calling Catapult. I thought about having a knock-down drag-out fight between Bex and our reluctant heroines but I like the way they parted as warriors instead. And realistically, with the beatings they'd taken by that point, Bex would have killed and eaten them. Which would be a bad thing, obviously. As always, I appreciate your reviews.