Apologies for the delays in publishing this chapter. It gave me more trouble than I expect!
In the searing heat, the four figures traipsing along the valley floor took on otherworldly appearances. Hot air rising from the baked earth warped their contours, doubled their height one moment and halved it the next. To the observer, they appeared as spectral demons, but to the mercenaries caught out in the harsh sunrise, they felt more like the souls of the condemned.
"Goddess, I haven't seen anything like this since the job on Therum. Krogan, are you certain this is the best way into the stronghold?" Chara was panting into her helmet mic as though she was auditioning for one of those asari-hanar… entertainment vids. She paused and rested the butt of her assault rifle on her hip.
"I'm certain that you'll regret all this stopping and jabbering when daybreak hits," Wrex grunted. The HUD on his helmet had a thermo-display, and it had been climbing steadily for the past half-hour. " Sevvalt, how's the time looking?"
The salarian merc reached up to touch the side of his bulbous helmet. "Primary sunrise in fifteen minutes. Map says the waste disposal chute is about a thousand feet ahead of us." Wrex couldn't quite tell, but it looked like the salarian was trying to adjust his helmet's shade level to see through the wavy haze that blanketed everything more than a few dozen feet ahead.
"Let's keep moving," the Captain barked, and the four set off again down the broken rock and heaved clay of the valley. It wasn't very large, only about thirty feet deep by a hundred wide, and it was fairly flat with few large rocks, but the baked clay surface crumbled beneath them frequently, leaving them ankle-deep in dust, and the oppressive heat overpowered chiller packs and seeped into their suits, addling their minds. Wrex found it unpleasant even given his Tuchanka upbringing, and the salarian and asari were staggering with every second step. The turian held up pretty well, the krogan thought, but then again those crested idiots would march into a furnace if given the order. Every so often, his rifle gave a little dip or his footfalls became a touch erratic, betraying that the heat was even getting to him.
Ahead, just past a near-ninety degree twist in the valley rose the imposing reinforced ceramocrete walls of the Blue Suns base. Massive, nondescript slabs that leaned inward several degrees and rose about a hundred feet off the surface of the planet, there was very little ornamentaion exposed to the searing heat. Down at the end of the valley stood a large triangular metal door, burnt and blackened from exposure- the opening for the trash discharge chute. Just as the four reached the chute, the solar illumination brightened tenfold and turned the surroundings from dull orange to bright white-yellow. All four turned to see a brilliant fireball rising from the eastern horizon to follow its dimmer brother through the sky. The HUD on Wrex' helmet announced a two-degree temperature change almost instantly.
"Primary sunrise," Chara panted. "Pop the door now, Sevvalt."
"It's not that simple, Captain. I can't just nnnggg" – the salarian grunted as he pried off the control box lid with a hefty knife- "cross some wires, unless you want the whole base to know that their garbage chute just opened up on its own." He pulled a thin cable from his omnitool and inserted it into the control board. Wrex glanced up at the imposing walls of the fortress that seemingly stretched to both horizons and back at the blazing orb just creeping above the horizon. He hoped salarian's skill was a match for his bragging.
His lack of faith was misplaced, for a few seconds later the door clanked and groaned upwards, a fetid blast of cooler air rushing out. Sevvalt's beaming grin was visible through the tint of his visor. "Someone up in the control room just got an alarm for a hydraulic lock failure. They might decide to close it manually, though, so lets hustle."
The sludgeway inside was a great deal more unpleasant than outside, although blissfully cooler and darker. It didn't get hot enough inside to bake all the facility's liquid waste into odorless dust as on the outside; every step was a greasy reminder of why air filters were mandatory for this assignment. The shaft sloped upwards for a fair distance, terminating in a ferrocrete piston that matched the tunnel's shape perfectly. Directly in front of it were the man-sized sludge chutes which ran up to the various waste-containment tanks. One was open and mercifully empty, marked MAINTENANCE in faded letters. Sevvalt climbed up first and, after verifying it was clear, Chara drove the rest up with all the compassion and manner of a slaver. Her near constant cursing made Wrex curious about her parentage, given most asari favoured dignity and tact.
Batarian father? he wondered. No, vorcha. Definitely a vorcha.
Wrex squeezed through the hatch at the top and stretched his arms out, joints cracking. As he glanced around the hangar bay they had emerged into, he saw Sevvalt standing over a gravely-injured turian in Blue Suns armor. The turian lifted one claw and tried to raise his head to speak; the camo-clad merc coldly leveled the pneumatic gun at his head. Wrex barely heard the 'fffttt' of the shot, but he did hear the crack as the Blue Suns' skull impacted with the floor and saw the chips of brow plate scatter on the cold concrete. The salarian turned to the krogan and shrugged, expression hidden behind his helmet.
"Goddess, I can't stand two more seconds of this korvakt thing." Chara hammered at her helmet's chin with the palm of her hand, finally prying it off and tossing it on the floor. She gasped and wiped the sweat from her fringes and forehead. The others followed suit, tossing their helmets into a corner. Wrex pulled his own helmet free and clipped it to his waist, enjoying the cooler air inside the base. More importantly, now he could smell who was nearby. The entire place stank of batarians.
"Not bad for recycled air. Gonna have to get the brand of air handler they installed here for myself."
"You know, I have a brother on the Citadel who sells them," Korac said thoughtfully to the krogan. "I could give you his card when we get back-"
Chara stepped between them, leaning her modified rifle on one hip. Not content with just an M-63, she'd added an underslung flak grenade launcher below the barrel. "When you two females are done painting each others talons, how about heading up the Level Two ladder so we can get this show on the road?" She scowled and patted the oversized gun. "I'd like to leave some of these bullets behind today. Sevvalt, move up five meters and take point." She slung the Mattock back over one shoulder and followed a rapidly-disappearing salarian up the steel rungs.
Korac shrugged helplessly at Wrex and hefted his rifle over his shoulder. The big merc just frowned as he re-folded his shotgun and stepped into line. Outside, he was the very model of calm professionalism, but inside, Wrex was already wondering what sort of 'accident' the good Captain might suffer before the mission was done.
"Shut up, shut up, this is golden!" The batarian telling the story waved his hand and raised his voice for effect. "So like I was saying, he wakes up and he has no idea where he is, and he feels like his hands are tied up with something-"
"And he doesn't see this right away? How many drinks did he have?"
"Shut up, I told you she's got her hands al over his face, and you know, he only has two eyes. Not like he needs eyes to understand what he's feeling, so he says something like 'oh baby, you are so goog-darn good, and she lifts her hands off-"
"It's gohd, humans say gohd." The second batarian was already stifling laughter, continually interrupting.
"- and BAM, helmet and all!"
The other batarian snorted, nearly spilling his drink. "HAH! Buddy was getting it from a space gypsy? And she had him all tied up? Please, oh hahahahah, please tell me he kicked her off-"
"No!" The first one chortled. "He doesn't know what to do, so he just sort of lies back and lets it happen, and well, she y'know… all over him when she's done. Whatever that stuff is." He draped one arm over the seat and turned to address the corporal who had been standing behind him for what seemed like hours. "Can I help you with something?"
The dark-skinned human saluted mildly, eyeing the two aliens. "Patrol 7 is still non-responsive. The GPS says they haven't moved in an hour and a half. Sergeant Kel'Vahn is putting on the general alert and he wants someone to send out some engineers with drones and make a sweep-"
Sighing, the batarian dropped his drink glass on the table. "Go back to Kel'Vahn," he snarled, "and get him to tell his boss that it's past primary sunrise and nobody is rushing outside for anything less than a full-scale assault. Its not Combat Engineering's job to pull his boys to safety when they forget how to read a map."
"S'not just that. Kel'Vahn says his boss thinks there might be a security breach."
"I'm tired of Velorum and his paranoia." The second batarian waved at the rows of monitors lining the observation room. "You can tell him a thousand times that all the sensors are reading fine and it's like teaching boxing to a hanar. I'm not going all the way up to the hub to report that absolutely shit-all is going on here."
"I'll tell him the drones are unavailable at the moment." The human sighed, sounding resigned. "If he doesn't accept that, I'll suggest he see you both personally." He turned away from the scowling aliens and paused at the door, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"So uh, what exactly is it that these quarians… secrete… when…"
"Go!" both batarians growled in unison, sending the human scurrying out the door. It hissed shut and smiles began to appear on their faces again, but only a few seconds later the door slid open again. The human corporal was standing awkwardly at the threshold with a strange expression on his face.
"You need directions, corporal, or should we-" The batarian fell silent as the human fell face-first onto the floor, a large three-pronged spear tip jutting out of his back. Both mercs were on their feet in a heartbeat, hands reaching for their weapons. One suddenly flew back against the monitor wall, crunching half a dozen screens into sparks and shards. A similar tip, this one attached to a spear, was punched clean through his face. The second drew his Carnifex and caught a glimpse of the attacker, almost completely obscured by optical camo, standing right in the doorway. He roared and brought the pistol up, putting several slugs into the huge being before it ducked and a razorwire bolas wrapped around his neck. Roars turned to screams as the bolas tightened somehow, slicing off his scrabbling fingertips and cutting into his throat. He pitched onto his knees, then his side as blood gushed from his ruined neck onto the floor.
The attacker rose to his feet, surveying the blood-drenched scene in the monitor room for several seconds before wrenching his spear free. The carcass it had pinned slumped onto the console, limbs falling over the buttons. As the door swished shut behind the retreating figure, one surviving screen turned bright crimson.
Level two alert activated…
The blueprints Wrex provided didn't fully allow for one to appreciate the size of the Blue Suns' facility. Cross-shaped, it stretched nearly half a mile in its longest dimension by a quarter mile width. What parts were visible aboveground were hangars, maintenance bays and armories; below that was enough living room to garrison two battalions of mercs, and below that the machinery space and the nigh-impregnable holding cells where the Suns stored anything and everything they wanted to hold on to securely. Nearly an hour trodding through anciliary hallways, plumbing tunnels and cooling vents had only gotten the team close to the main octagonal shaft where the elevators and staircases were. They had encountered scant few guards and it was starting to grind on Wrex.
"Are all your jobs as boring as this one?" he groused, stepping over the still-twitching merc slumped all over the floor. "If I'd have known it was going to be like this, I'd have brought a holobook instead of all these guns."
"Not my fault you krogan are so slow," Sevvalt retorted over the radio. They were currently in the large mech repair bay; the salarian was at the far side perched on a row of deactivated Ymirs.
"Cut this yahgshit out." Captain Chara swiped a Ymir head off one of the workbenches, inspected it disdainfully and tossed it over her shoulder. "I said zero chatter. Specialist, how many mechs do you count?"
Wrex ignored her and did a mental tally for himself. At least twelve Ymirs in two rows against one wall, a few drop-racks of Lokis and a couple of Fenris in a charging station, plus a half-dozen or so mechs of various makes in various stages of disassembly at the workstations and benches scattered about. The merc they'd shot had been tinkering with one right before that obnoxious little toad put one right into the back of his neck. These clowns sure don't care much for getting intel, the krogan mused. He caught the asari in the corner of his vision, reaching out to touch the faceplate of an armless heavy mech. "I wouldn't do that, Captain."
She scowled at him and deliberately pressed her fingers against the cold glass. "Once we have confirmation on the package, we'll alert a salvage team to this find," she said into the comms button. "Should be a nice fat bounty for every working mech we recover. For now, let's hide the body and get out of here before someone comes in and-"
Out of nowhere a klaxon started bleating. Chara yanked her hand back as if scalded. A canned voice came over the PA system, repeating something about a level two alarm. The asari kept cursing and denying she'd done anything as she backed up beside Wrex. Throughout the room, mechs began activating and slowly rising up from their slumber.
The krogan cracked his jaw and mashed his fists together. "Figures," he sighed. "The first action I get, and it's something that I can't really kill."
Eight Lokis disengaged from their drop cradles and rose to their feet at the other side of a row of crates. One went down the moment it straightened up, blown in two by a round from Korac's sniper rifle. The turian leaned out from behind cover again and knocked the head off a second mech instantly. Sevvalt fell off the mech he was sitting on when it came to life, scrambling away as it and three others ponderously turned to bring their guns to bear. Wrex leaped over the crates right into the teeth of the ambling Lokis. A single dog-like Fenris charged from his side; he threw a biotic field beneath its legs and chuckled as it slid into the remaining six mechs, knocking them over. He drew his shotgun one-handed and fired into the downed Fenris, its power cells overloading and blowing all seven bots to kingdom come. The krogan roared a challenge and barged headlong into the second wave.
Korac climbed up behind the top crate in a tall stack, nearly level with the rooms upper catwalk. Surveying the battlefield for a target, he noticed Sevvalt pulling the latch pin out of a rack holding compressed gas tanks situated right above some bots. Curiosity piqued, he ducked down to watch. In the 'net vids, they always tumbled like children's play rocks and knocked the bad guys down. In real life, they just dropped straight down and pulverized the mechs. He winced, brought his scope up in another direction and drilled a sliver of tungsten through the brain of a human shotgunner hotfooting it onto the scene. A sudden rocking sensation directed his attention down to where a big burly batarian Sun had grabbed onto his crate stack and was trying to topple them. Korac drew his knife and flicked it downwards into the batarian's foot, pinning him to the steel floor. "Stick around, pal," he hissed and leaped down from the unstable pile just as it collapsed onto the helpless four-eyes. He dropped onto the floor on all fours as a scream and a satisfying 'squish' echoed from behind him.
By this time, one of the Ymirs had advanced down into the maintenance area and began peppering the mercs' cover with its main gun. Chara scrambled for safety as the bench she was hiding behind turned into plastic and steel splinters, firing from the hip at the mech's torso. Distracted, it didn't notice the magnetic grabber of the shop crane descending and locking onto its left leg. The crane pulled up suddenly and the mech toppled face-down and then swung upside-down into the air. It pivoted to shoot at the crane operators booth; as the booth exploded in a spray of glass and aluminum, the crane lost power and dropped the mech. The Ymir's power cores exploded when its own head was driven through them and the whole multi-ton chassis fractured and flew in all directions. Chara looked up to see the salarian crawling from the ruined shack, throwing him a salute and a predatory grin. She turned to the door next to her just as it opened and shattered the skulls of both Blue Suns standing there with a flak grenade.
Wrex was nearly finished beating two Lokis into scrap with the disarticulated body of a third when the door on his side of the room beeped and opened. Four panicked-looking Blue Suns turians dove for the cover of the edges as the krogan roared and reached for a weapon. An impact rocked his back and his shields dropped to zero instantly. Turning, he caught a flash of blue right before something smashed into the side of his face. Tingling, searing paralysis flooded his muscles and he dropped to one knee, tasting blood and his own charred flesh. He looked up at a robot, similar in shape to one of the Lokis but beefier and taller, raising its fists above its head to strike again. Each was almost the size of his skull and crackling with electricity. Wrex caught the first fist in his left hand, arcs flashing only inches from his eyes, then grabbed the second arm by the elbow as it came down. Enough adrenaline to rupture two human hearts was coursing through his body, blood rage pumping in his veins. With a bellow that nearly drowned out the gunfire, he ripped both arms from their metal sockets and crushed the robot's head between its own fists, then tossed the still-electrified limbs at one turian leaning out from cover. The Blue Sun yelped and collapsed as several hundred volts puppeteered his arms and legs. Wrex snorted and reached for the back of his belt, fingers clasping around the weapon holstered there as the others poked out from the doorframe and fired.
Chara vaulted elegantly over a milling machine and landed on top of the batarian engineer hiding behind it. She ground one heel into his neck and shot him point blank in the face a few more times than necessary. "Send your little robot dog after me now, you bastard!" she spat, tasting his blood on her lips. An already-damaged Ymir loped around a distant crate and she emptied the rest of her clip into its knees, the Mattock's thudding a downright erotic sound to her. It dropped down and raised one arm to shoot and she activated the grenade launcher and hammered a flak shell directly into the mech's faceplate. Its head turned ninety degrees, forcing it to swing its torso to lock onto her again. When it fired, its gun just happened to be pointing at two human mercs rushing up from the side to aid it. Chara laughed and wiped the blood and brains from her face just as Korac vaulted over the machine to land beside her.
"They're coming from behind," he gasped. "Too strong… we should keep moving ahead… oh spirits!" He turned and fired off a shot at five figures ambling through the smoke and dust. The bullet found the chest of one, but these were not common troopers. Each was heavily armed and decked out in full Centurion combat equipment replete with ceramo-composite plating and multiphasic shields. The human woman stumbled, recovered and fired off a rocket at the pair's hiding spot. Just as Chara and Korac jumped, the milling machine disintegrated and the force of the blast knocked them flying. They sailed a good thirty feet and smacked into something large and vertical and covered in blood.
"Wuh-Wrex-uh?" the asari slurred, dizzied. The krogan towered above the two prostrate forms, armor holed, crest and arms mangled and pockmarked and holding an immense machine repeater and a five-foot ammo belt. He merely grunted in response, clipping the belt into the monstrous gun's side.
"You're… bleeding," Korac added as Wrex worked the charging handle.
"I ain't got time to bleed."
The advancing Centurions had already slammed a few rifle shots into him as he pulled the trigger. His gun barked to life with a loud thumping, spewing ammo rhythmically at the Blue Suns. The Moloch was an anachronism; although only fifty years old, it used the pre-shaped metal slugs of a much earlier period in firearms development. Formerly used by the human Alliance as a light anti-vehicle weapon, its custom-cut bullets ripped through the Centurion armor like foam packing. Wrex slowly waved the weapon from side to side, delighting in the ghoulish chorus of screams as turian, batarian and human were cut in two, decapitated, eviscerated and de-limbed by the shuddering beast in his grasp. The last of the belt ran through it and piled on the ground, smoking hot, and Wrex inhaled deeply the calming scents of scorched gun barrel, spilled blood and fried electrics as total silence settled over the room. The asari and turian staggered to their feet, inner ears still ringing, and looked all around the totality of the carnage. Eighteen troopers, five heavy mechs and several dozen Lokis, all reduced to their component parts and fluids in piles everywhere. The big krogan slung his weapon over one shoulder and gave them an overly-hearty pat on the back that made them stumble.
"Well, lets grab the frog and head over to the next batch, shall we?"
Swept along by the throng of soldiers, Jez found it incredibly difficult to keep from being trampled. Kel'vahn's shoulder was planted in her back, forcing her along with his exaggerated stride, and right behind them came ten mercenaries in full combat gear. The commander was incensed at the security breach and taking no chances; he stomped up ahead in his well-polished blues, armor plates clicking with each footfall. In her own ballistic vest and acoutrements, she felt naked and vulnerable; the only person not wearing hard plate. She had no illusions about using the pistol holstered at her side should Anis Nain decided to resist them.
They found him in the main hallway, proceeding towards the hangar with his case on one side and his krogan bodyguard on the other. He stopped abruptly as the two groups met, edging behind one leg of the heavily-armed alien. Manipulators hugged the suitcase as he addressed the ensemble. "Commander, what is happening? It sounds to me like your much-touted security has failed you."
Velorum folded his arms behind his back neatly as his men spread out around him, eyeing the volus and krogan pair. "Eclipse teams are inside the base," he lied. "My men are trying to hold them back but their numbers are too great. They are moving further and further inside every minute. It's not safe for you to be outside your room like this."
"I thought, and you have just confirmed, that I would be safer off this rock," the volus retorted, a hint of anger in his voice.
"You think that you can just fly out of here in your little shuttle? The Eclipse will shoot you down before you can get ten feet off the ground. I'm afraid escape is out of the question at this point." The turian's voice took on an oily inflection. "Survival, however, is still on the table."
"What are you talking about, Velorum?" the volus hissed. His mask clicked and whooshed as his breathing rate increased.
Velorum smiled, but there was no cheer in his expression, only bared teeth. "Give me the program," he oozed, "and I will refund your credits and tell the Eclipse that you are no longer their concern. They are here for it, after all, not you." His statement was punctuated with a distant thud that rattled dust off the ceiling panels. "I wouldn't wait too long to decide, if I were you."
"It's a shakedown," the krogan growled, drawing his assault rifle. Jez flinched as the sound of weapons being cocked echoed through the hall. "They're trying to blackmail you."
"If I wanted to take your program, I'd have you both killed here and now, lizard. If you wish to rush into hundreds of Eclipse, I won't stop you. " The turian fixed his eyes on the round blue lenses of the volus' breathing mask. "I hope for your sake that your bodyguard is kind enough to shoot you when captured and spare you the tortures of the Eclipse. The Sisters, you know, have very peculiar things they like to do with those who rely on exosuits…"
Anais Nain lowered his voice in defeat. "I pay you regardless of the outcome," he wheezed at the krogan. Extending the case in one hand, he reluctantly hissed out an acceptance to the terms. Commander Velorum smiled coldly at him.
"I'm glad you saw reason, Nain. Sergeant Kel'vahn, be a dear and go slaughter those dumb wormheads. Tech Seargeant, take possession of the package."
Jez would've remained frozen there for several days had the batarian not elbowed her sharply in the back. She staggered forwards, each leg feeling wooden as she approached the volus. Ganthog was staring at her with his finger still wrapped around the rifle's trigger and a look of pure, unbridled disgust in his reptilian eyes. Jez swallowed as she locked her fingers around the briefcase's handle, imagining what a reflexive finger convulsion on that trigger would do to her at this range. Human soup. I'd be human soup. Just as she took the valuable package from Nain, the krogan grasped her suddenly by the wrist and her heart flew into her throat.
"This is a mistake, volus. How do we know this isn't a great big-'
Jez blinked at the warm, foul smelling liquid now dripping off her face. It took her a moment to focus her eyes from the haze of shock onto the gaping hole where the krogan's head had just been. As the big lizard dropped onto the floor with a loud crash, she brought up a finger and wiped some of the brains and guts off her cheek, still disbelieving. Panic erupted in the hall.
"Who fired that? Spirits damn you, who fired that shot?" The commander was livid, mandibles twitching. "I did not give any of you bucket-headed morons the autho-"
Another energy discharge leaped out from the shadows and slammed into his chest. He staggered, red steam and smoke wafting out of the huge crater burned neatly through his armor, and collapsed onto the floor. Jez could barely mange to throw herself on the ground as the rest of the Blue Suns brought up their weapons and began firing madly, shredding every pipe, cable and brick with a hail of projectiles. Nain was too slow in mimicking her; he caught several slugs in his chest and his dive became a death-roll. The human woman curled into a ball around the briefcase, squeezed her eyes shut and clamped both hands over her ears, trying to block out the cacophony of gunfire.
After a few seconds, the screaming started.
Purring contentedly, the hunter strode over and retrieved his spear from the creature's chest, accidentally crushing it when he put one foot on top for greater leverage. He glanced around the room, bodies illuminated in the scan as fading points of heat. Ordinarily he eschewed use of the plasma-caster in favour of hand-to-hand combat, but there were too many distractions this time. Everything must be perfect for his first and final confrontation with the prey. A thought occurred to him; there was no moral problem with taking a trophy from a less-worthy animal if it was unique enough. He looked at the body beneath his feet, elongate and graceful with bony plates blended into hard flesh. Its head boasted an impressive crest and mandibles, something that wuld look very nice above a door perhaps, or fashioned into a chalice. Reaching down, he sliced along the back of the armor suit with his curved knife and pried it open like a carapace. The hunter slit the neck right to the bone, then made another slice along the spine and shoved his fingers roughly into the body. The skull and spinal column came free with a satisfying wet ripping sound, blue blood dripping down his hand and arm.
A faint whispering sound caught his attention. His visor triangulated the source to a small body lying on the ground. This one was cooler than he had expected but not fading. Its heart and lungs still functioned properly, and he could see no obvious injuries. Why it remained curled into such a tight ball was a mystery. As he approached, its heartbeat increased in time with his footsteps. The hunter reached down and plucked the primitive weapon off its waist, tucking it into his own belt. If this truly was an oom-ahn, then the species was far less impressive than he had been led to believe. Feigning death… such a dishonourable defense for an evolved creature. He recalled some of the language its kind used, gleaned from listening in on prior conversations.
"Com-ahnn." There was no response from the prostrated form. "Mooh-ahv yor ah-sss." He repeated them several times, but the phrases had no impact. Slinging the still-dripping spinal cord over his shoulder, the hunter reactivated his optical camouflage and disappeared back up into the darkened passages above the ceiling.
Uuurhd-naht reacks would be here soon, and he needed time to prepare his traps.