Chapter 2

Did Deimos slip something into his drink again? It sure felt like it, as a horrible pounding in his head made Pacis groggily groan.

There was a reason why he never drank with the other officers, everyone seemed to be determined to 'loosen up the ice knight'. It was ridiculous.

Slowly, the turian began re-establishing his surroundings.

Being sent to Earth; talking with the human leaders; frustration; the unexpected assault by the Reapers; falling off the shuttle after the shockwave. Were they already desperate enough to bring dreadnoughts into the atmosphere? The wail of a human female from somewhere near him answered that question.

With a groan, the Spectre carefully got to his feet, having to use a nearby wall as to not fall. His armor has saved him from most of the damage, but the shock of the fall was enough to put a strain on his body. If he was a squishy human, he would've been a puddle on the floor. Always look at the bright side. Checking his Omni-tool, Pacis wasn't surprised to see that the small window dedicated to his shield's status was blank. He lost his assault rifle as well, although his Carnifex was still with him. He would be fine, even without the additional protection, he just had to be careful. Exactly like in Basic; one hit equaled three laps around the faculty.

For a moment, Pacis was tempted to use his biotics to create a protective layer around himself, but he resisted. His grasp of biotics was almost nonexistent, conducted by bursts of emotions. His teachers made sure he never used them before the first week was done. Since then, he must've used them five times in his whole career. Each convincing him further to avoid them at all cost.

His place of landing wasn't much to admire. A simple alley that had only one way in or out. At least it protected him while he wasn't able to do so.

The radio connection was still down, so calling up a fancy evacuation vehicle was out of question. The only way was forward, and the sound of gunshots prompted him to do exactly that.

Breaking into a light jog, the turian made it out of the alley to find himself in an abandoned road. Hover cars and shuttles decorated the dull floor, with added flickers of red and flesh. However, he was the only breathing being in the proximity of at least a few hundred meters. The imposing figures of Reaper Capital ships still loomed in the distance, but not close enough to pay any attention to him. His fall must've left him at the enemy's flank, where the deed has already been done.

It was daunting, standing at the deadly silent street. Pacis has been accustomed to living on the busy Palaven his whole life. Even the space stations he served on always provided a vocal output from someone.

He hoped Palaven didn't look like this. A sense of patriotism rose in him, certain that the turian people would never fall before a threat, but looking at the wreckage, Pacis felt the tendrils of doubt clawing at him.

Shouts drew his attention, this time not sounding as distant as before. Turning right when he came toward an intersection, the Spectre dropped down to avoid being seen by hostiles.

Taking a moment to assess the situation was the one thing that was drilled into his head by his many instructors, and for once, Pacis followed it.

There were less than two dozens of hostiles from what he could see, at least fifteen of these flesh-eating creatures as well as a few husks that were being blown away easily. Their target was a narrow gray building that had the words 'Central Metro' on this side of the wall. Confusion crept up to him, he wasn't sure what a Metro was, though he could distinctly remember it from a lecture about human transportation in the Xeno class. He could see at least five Alliance soldiers, easily recognized by their dark blue armour, defending the building.

Time to work the magic of flanking.

Taking cover behind an overturned car, Pacis opened fire at the hostiles with his pistol. The Alliance soldiers caught on quickly enough, though the turian had to dodge a few rounds at first. An intelligent enemy would've had trouble dealing with fire from both sides, therefore the husks were wiped out easily.

Holstering the pistol, the Spectre slowly came out of cover with his arms in front of him. When no shots rang out, he made his way to the entrance of the small building. It was closed by a metal door, but he was sure that they'll open it for him.

"Stop right there! What's your rank soldier?" A male voice came from above the turian. Looking up, Pacis was met with the view of a sniper rifle nuzzle pointing at him.

Good, they weren't naively trusting. That kind of attitude will put the difference between who shoots the bullet to the head in this war.

"Spectre Pacis. I can tell you about my career in the turian fleet, but I doubt you could verify it, especially now." He said, attempting to dissuade any notions of him being indoctrinated.

There was a shuffle inside, murmurs drifted by him, not loud enough for the turian to pick up on them. He kept glancing behind him, unable to completely let go of his paranoia of getting attacked.

The door slid open, once again letting a nuzzle of a weapon greet him. There were two men in the doorway. One of them was wearing the standard issue Alliance armour and helmet, he was the one pointing the assault rifle at him. The other man was standing slightly before the other one, but he wore a black hard suit, a small red right triangle emblem was on his chest plate, accompanied by a bone white N on the left of it. The soldier wasn't wearing a helmet, his raven black hair was grimy, the turian had to sympathise the man with that. Who would want to have hair?

The human's dark eyes held his own for long moments. Pacis let him, standing still and returning the stare with the same ferocity.

"Come on in then, no need to get caught in the rain." He said after a few moments. Pacis wasn't sure if it was a joke or some lost reference, but he didn't comment.

The interior was dark and unwelcoming, the floor was grimy with decades of dust. There were extinguished advert signs hanging on the walls, dating as far as 2090. Lovely place.

The human caught his look, and commented with a smile, "The place isn't too welcoming, the metro hasn't been used in almost a century. I guess the Brass knew what they were doing, since the Reapers pretty much overlooked this place. At least for now."

Using ancient foundations for a modern war, they really should give the humans some credit. Pacis almost snorted at the thought.

Closed booths indicated that the place ran deeper, but the soldier led him the opposite way. Pacis could've sworn he saw some movement coming from the shadows, but it was hard to make out with almost no source of light.

"What are they hoping to use it for?" The Spectre asked as they climbed up the stairs.

"An outpost on the enemy's flank. I was first stationed to defend our main military base here in Vancouver, but that went to hell once one of those massive ones landed right on us. We were able to take the bastard out, but that base is nothing but a pile of rubble now." A mixture of pride and anger dominated his voice as he explained. The turian felt surprised, the fact that they have taken down a Reaper was very good news.

After the entrance, the second floor looked very cozy. It was obviously personnel quarters or some kind of an office, a large room with once nice windows and walls. From that remained poorly hologram-barricaded windows and bullet ridden walls.

Three Alliance soldiers turned to greet them, each at their own preferred spot by the windows. Pacis wasn't surprised to see them stiffening when he came in view. There was a reason why he didn't want to stay on Earth.

"What's a turian doing here?" The man on the left asked rudely, he sounded young, which was expected.

The N operative was able to beat the turian's expectations once again, when he stepped out and barked at the young soldier, "Show some respect Roberts, he's a Spectre." Roberts seem to have more to say, but kept it to himself, returning to his spot with a huff. The two other soldiers didn't offer much other than an acknowledging nod.

Offering a hand, the human finally introduced himself, "N Specialist Bernard, it's a good thing to see a friendly face for once, human or not. We've been dealing with nothing but those zombies for the past three hours."

Three hours? He has been out for that long? It was worrying, but Pacis forced himself to concentrate on the important.

"N Specialist? I wasn't aware of such rank in the Alliance ladder." The Spectre said after following the peculiar human ritual of hand shaking, deciding to lean against the one table in the room, realizing just how weary he truly was.

Bernard smirked before replying, "You would've been correct three months ago. I'm guessing that you know about the N training program?" At the turian's nod he continued, "From what I've heard, Admiral Anderson himself came to talk with the top. He was one of the first graduates. After that, we were told that in a case of a intergalactic threat, we'd gain this new rank and be expected to lead small squads in strategic combat." The human gestured around himself with a bitter smile, "This attack is rather convenient for that whole plan."

So the Spectres weren't the only ones that have taken steps to insure at least some kind of security against the Reapers. Having specialists in command could increase their chances. But were they up to it?

The Specialist caught his look and must've understood the meaning behind it.

"You don't need to worry, sir. I was a Lieutenant Commander before I applied, I might not be a graduate, but not many soldiers can claim to have passed the third level of N training."

There was too much pride in that voice. Pacis could see that the man had skill and maybe even some natural talent, but his young age kept him from staying humble.

Pacis didn't try to contradict him, realizing that he was in no position to do so. He was nothing but a turian and the looks that he was getting from the other soldiers were anything but friendly.

"So what now?" He asked after a few moments of silence. They sure didn't have enough forces for a counter attack, though he might've tried something if he had a squad of turians.

"We wait for orders. I'm hoping that Command found some place to settle into, because it sure looks like we already lost most of the city." The former LC answered, the masked frustration in his voice still ringing clear in the quiet room. Pacis saw the others shifting uncomfortably at the edge of his field of view, he couldn't imagine how they were feeling. And yet, not a single word of sympathy could make it out.

One of the troops left her spot by the window, coming closer to her commander. Everything about her shouted exhaustion. Her dark blue armour was stained and grimy with spirits-know-what, the visor of her helmet was slightly cracked and she held on to her gun with only limp reluctance.

"Then what are doing here sir? Shouldn't we be helping out the fighting against these monsters?" Venom almost seemed to drip from her words. It has been less than a day.

As her commander answered, something caught the Spectre's eyes, causing him to walk towards the dark gray counter on the other side of the room. He could feel the scorching looks on his back, but he chose to ignore them. He picked up the small battery while still listening to the conversation.

"They have a reason for putting us here in this hellhole Corporal. I can't say that I see it, much less understand it. But we have to trust them, otherwise the Reapers are just going to tear us apart one by one." Bernard said gently, but still with enough authority so that they knew who was in charge. Pacis had to commend him to that, the human wasn't a lost case.

The same private from before came to stand near the corporal, his body tense as he supported the woman. "She's right sir, there must be something we can do. I'm not going to sit around while people die out there." She seemed pleased, but at the same time embarrassed at the outburst. The turian turned around to face the trio, curious to see how the LC handled the situation. A private would've been severely punished for speaking against a superior back home.

Bernard sighed in irritation. His fist clenching in a show of anger.

"Since the two of you can't seem to wait patiently for a few hours, I have something for you to do." Before the duo can get to excited, he continued. "Someone needs to clear out the deeper levels of the metro, in case we'll need to give refuge to any survivors. Corporal Xavier, I'm sure that you, Roberts and Spectre Pacis can handle it."

What? How did he get dragged into it? Despite his incredulousness, Pacis knew better than challenge the man in charge. This ought to be interesting.