A/N: So… This chapter was going to be short. Six thousand words, tops. Instead… ugh, I need to know when to stop writing.
By popular behest I'm upping the rating of this story to M from T. Even though neither Jack nor Zaeed are in this chapter I'm doing it already… mostly because this chapter features a person getting their skull smashed in.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
The theme song of this chapter is Stand up and Fight by Turisas. Seemed appropriate for Garrus's set of mind as of that moment when we meet him. I would have spoiler-warned that, but… we've all played the game or read the stories. We all know who Archangel is.
Chapter 3: Archangel
"So…" Things were, almost needless to say, a little awkward as Jacob, Miranda, Jeff "Joker" Moreau and Yeoman Chambers stood waiting outside the door to the communications room aboard the Normandy SR-2 while its captain stood within that same room speaking with the Illusive Man. Joker, feeling a little out of place amongst the Cerberus staff and especially the two cat-suit clad operatives Jacob and Miranda – he wasn't a marine himself, but he had to admit that he preferred it when soldiers wore actual armour and not fetish-fuel outfits that must have been a bitch to get into – tried impotently to make conversation with the former security officer while Miranda and Kelly Chambers were discussing something in low and serious tones a little ways off. "You, ehm, exercise a lot? 'Cos it looks to me like you do sit-ups. Just, like, all of the sit-ups, all of the time".
Miranda and Yeoman Chambers, however, were talking about much more serious things. "I agree, director Lawson" Kelly nodded to the deadly woman's reasoning, seeing the worth in her views as the two conversed about psychology. "The Commander's reckless and, I would say, near-suicidal behaviour down on Freedom's Progress is out of character… but it is to be expected, from a purely psychological standpoint of course. He was brought back from the dead – which is bound to instil a feeling of invincibility in him – but at a physically lessened state. He no doubt feels the need to prove to himself, and us, that he is just as physically capable and just as strong now as he was before his death. This behaviour should no doubt peter out by itself as he settles back into his old routine and gathers friends around him".
"Of course" Miranda agreed coldly, having guessed all of this already based on her own extensive schooling in psychology and how to handle people of a more volatile nature. "I know. I just needed a second opinion. As long as this behaviour is a passing fancy and not something I will have to deal with on regular occasion. If he dies in the mission…" she locked eyes with Chambers and emphasised her words in a particularly gruesome fashion. "Any idea of how to make him become more reasonable?" She almost said "pliable", like she would have when discussing the fact with other Cerberus operatives, but changed it in the last moment due to her knowing that the man they called Joker was not loyal to Cerberus but to Shepard, and utterly so.
"In my expert opinion?" the other woman acknowledged Miranda's choice of phrase with the faintest of arching eyebrows and narrowing of eyes. "Give him time to settle in, and provide more control, or the illusion of control, to him. Once he feels he has more to say in the workings of our operation he will no doubt settle back into a more responsible command role and cease rushing madly into battle if only to feel he has control over his own fate".
"Ugh" Miranda shook her head at her nominal colleague and fellow Cerberus operative and all the rest of the world. Kelly's greatest strength was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, her acting abilities and her almost uncanny skill for adapting her behaviour to suit others: Miranda had seen her acting professional around her, lewdly and forwardly against some servicemen, giddily and childishly towards others, changing her personality like a chameleon did pigmentation. "Men. Always with the insecurities and the overcompensating for everything with their overtly phallic guns. One wonders why the galaxy even bothers with them".
"Unfortunately males seem to be a prerequisite for human reproduction" Kelly adopted that same slightly frustrated tone as Miranda in seeing that her cell director needed to vent, if only a little. It was Miranda, after all – it would only have been strange if she was overtly approachful. "Now, if only we could do like the Asari-"
"That would be simpler, yes?" came the agreement with a tired nod as Miranda let things rest and got back to the matter at hand. "Do you know of any way one can speed up the Commander's acclimation process? I'd rather he not charge madly into a throng of Vorcha or Krogan only to get shot dead by a stray butterfly or something".
"Well, he is a soldier" Kelly's Omni-tool flashed as she activated it and brought out the dossier that had been compiled for her on Shepard and his character, written mostly by the hand of Miranda and some woman she was unfamiliar with called Hope Lilium – obviously a fake name. "He served no less than nine years in the Alliance Navy before he became a Spectre, not accounting for his time in training. Having him surrounded by military memorabilia would most likely increase his sense of comfort. Perhaps painting his armour with the N7 logo and forgoing the Cerberus one? Encouraging him to get some fish for that aquarium in his cabin and maybe get a hobby, like collecting model spaceships, to bring his mind off the mission? Recruiting a personal trainer for him to work out his frustrations with?"
Miranda was surprised at the slight drawling lithe to Chambers' voice when the young woman mentioned that strange and now ambiguous word. Was she…? "Are you attracted to our Commander, Chambers?" Did she have to go on a lecture on what the appropriate mode of conversation was with project assets that they might have to terminate anyway? Doing that just seemed like a waste of time to her.
"He is quite accomplished" Kelly noted with a slight and mischievous grin. "And handsome. There's a lot of ways to handle stress… just saying. But I'm talking to the Ice Queen of Cerberus. You never pursue any form of cordial relationships with anyone, either under your command or not. There's a betting pool going around on what… generates your mass effect fields, as it were".
"It's none of your business, Yeoman Chambers" Miranda glowered at the woman, to which Kelly backed off and held up her hands as if threatened to show that she was not pressing the issue. Snorting Miranda settled back against the steely blank wall of the ship, arms crossed before her and one leg in front of the other. The last thing she needed was someone trying to psychoanalyse her – and she definitely did not need a friend.
Soon after the door to the briefing and communication's room slid open and Commander Shepard, scowling softly, stepped out with a weighty stride, thankful that his chief people had gathered like he instructed around him, Joker limping and crouched over but now able to walk of his own accord after an extensive bone-reinforcement treatment and a great many implants. He stopped and stared at Miranda as soon as the door slid shut behind him, his lips curling into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'll work with you" he spoke, to which Miranda just about managed to keep back a sigh of relief at her efforts over the last two years having not been wasted. "I'll take down the Collectors with you. Happy now?"
"Not even remotely" she answered and stood tall before him, Jacob and Chambers forming up behind her. "I trust that the Illusive Man informed you of the current situation?"
"Yeah. You're my XO and staff chief, and my job's just to tell us where to go and to shoot things and maybe to pick up some people dumb enough to bring through the Omega 4 relay with us. That sound about right?" Miranda nodded, satisfied for now with that… colourful description, and followed Shepard as he made his way over to the armoury, the band in tow after them. "He said that you had some dossiers for me. Is that right?"
"We've about one hundred and nineteen potential recruits" Miranda spoke, stopping Shepard dead on the spot just as they had gotten through the armoury doors, making turn and stare at her with wide eyes. "Of course, that's just the ones we prioritised out of our first selection of more than two thousand. At most you could fit ten – maybe twelve if we push it – specialists on this ship, including me and your new armoury sergeant, Jacob".
"Hm… and I who was looking forward to building my own private army" Shepard joked in a deadpan sort of way, making Joker chuckle and Jacob smirk. "Just… we'll go through them or something once I'm done in here. Jacob" the man in question nodded and stepped up to Shepard as they went to the large workbench in the centre of the shipside armoury. "You're in charge of this place. What capabilities does it have?"
"This is state-of-the-art, sir. By the rear wall is the model projection and computer, able to print out a full-scale plastic prototype of any weapon we design ourselves. These prototypes can then be fabricated out of real alloys and metals by the gunsmithing capabilities of the shipside foundry with the help of EDI-"
"The ship's artificial intelligence?" Shepard wondered, asking about the robotic voice he had been introduced to along with the ship's crew and a few other familiar faces like Joker and dr Chakwas from the SSV Normandy. Apparently this was an entirely new vessel, larger, newer and improved over the now ruined husk of the old Normandy that had crashed over… some frozen backwater called Alchera. Perhaps he should go there, pay his respect to Pressley and the ones that hadn't made it off the ship in time.
"Yeah. It'd take time, but with enough alloys available to us we can feasibly make most kinds of rudimentary firearms and energy weapons. Heavy weapons… the foundry isn't big enough for most stuff like that. And any armour we make has to be modular. We can't make an entire suit all at once".
"Some armour is definitely needed here" Shepard noted and looked to Jacob to then slide his eyes over Miranda, starting at the feet and going higher with his stare, stopping momentarily to focus at certain… parts of her anatomy until his gaze landed on her eyes. For a minute she saw something there, not just a hint of intelligence in the green but also something… no, not a warmth, but the promise of it, like the faltering spring wind and gone just the same. "You two sure about wearing stuff like that into combat? If someone cuts through your kinetic barriers-"
"Won't happen, sir" Jacob shook his head at that, confident in his own powers and skills almost to the point of arrogance.
"Are you concerned about us dying prematurely, Commander?" Miranda pressed, wondering where this suddenly came from.
"You're on my crew, now, aren't you?" Shepard asked the empty air in front of him instead of looking right at them. "That makes it my job to keep you alive, to look out for you whether I trust you or not. Jacob, as chief armament officer it's now your job to handle armaments and fabrication for the rest of the crew. Your first special mission is to research some goddam ablative plating to reinforce those stupid jumpsuits". By the suddenly lost and more than a little apprehensive expression that crossed the former marine's face he realised something very important. "You're in the position so that no none Cerberus personnel get ahold of the fabrication station and makes a bomb or something. You actually don't know anything about gunsmithing, do you?"
"No, sir" he spoke, a little downcast and more ashamed. "I mod my shotgun and pistol, sir, but beyond that I just don't have the head for-"
"I was pretty bad at sword practice back in the ICT" Shepard spoke encouragingly to the man. "We had to, you know, in N7 Slayer training, but I never had any natural skill for it. All grace and set moves and katas – I'm a boxer and a brawler, not a dancer. But I stuck with it, and I was pretty good at it by the end of training. I haven't touched a sword since – useless pieces of crap compared to a shotgun – but the moral of the story is that I endured. You've got a fully sentient machine to teach you all about it, Jacob. Just stick with it and even the biggest idiot in the world can learn almost anything".
"Will do, Commander" Jacob snapped his heels together and saluted, a gesture Shepard returned in a loose and informal manner. It was good to have at least someone saluting you on that ship, he reflected. It might have looked like an Alliance ship even more so than the last iteration of the Normandy – at least the CIC and bridge-deck did, the only part of the ship he had seen so far – and the crew might mostly have been cast-off Alliance personnel, but none of them saluted when they saw him. In a way he liked that it was more informal than a real warship, but it was a warship, and if there was something he would stand hard on was the chain of command and the responsibilities of leaders. He would have to think on it later.
"Alright. Dismissed, Armoury Chief Taylor" Shepard settled the matter and then looked to the other three, noticing the impatient glare his pilot was giving him. "Don't give me that look, Joker. You don't have to be here for all of the meetings – just this first one. EDI" he spoke out into space, feeling a little like an idiot for talking to a machine. "Are you listening?"
"I am always listening, Commander" the soft and decidedly feminine but still thoroughly machine voice came from out of the intercom of the armoury, a digital representation of her presence – a transparent azure chess-piece… thing, Shepard had no idea what it was supposed to actually be – rising from the middle of the workbench for them to speak around.
"Yeah, because that isn't creepy as hell" Joker muttered but was silenced by his commander with a look. "Yeah, yeah – I'll make nice with the coming overlords, Commander".
"EDI, interface with Lawson's Omni-tool and bring up the dossier on potential recruits for the Lazarus Cell – the alien ones too" Shepard added, just in case the ideals of the organisation had shone through even there. "Arrange them in groups after last known location".
"Certainly, Commander Shepard" the machine replied and the holographic interface came to life in the colour of Omni-tool-orange, showing gatherings of square markers below the names of planets, systems and regions of space that dotted the air a few inches off the surface of the table. "Is this sufficient for your needs, Commander Shepard?"
"Quite EDI. Thank you" he nodded before he examined the gathering of points, each little square representing a single potential operative in the region of space under which names they gathered. If he understood the needlessness of thanking a machine for doing its job Miranda couldn't see any token of it upon his face, for he seemed to fall into a strange and deep concentration. "We're in the Horsehead Nebula… and there's only one recruit in this region of space". He clicked the dot and watched as a screen of data began to hover over the surface of the table. "EDI – read it back to us".
"Certainly, Commander Shepard-"
"Just 'Commander' will have to suffice, EDI" Shepard interrupted, focused on the economy of time.
"Of course, Commander. I will refer to you in such a manner when conversing with you from now on. The dossier follows". A brief pause came before the machine settled into information relation mode. "Name: Gerrik Qui'in. Species: Turian. Location: Port Hanshan, Noveria. Age: 29. Skills: Advanced hacking, robotic and technical expertise, rudimentary military training. Served thirteen years in the Turian military before being placed in charge of company security by his uncle Lorik Qui'in, manager of the Port Hanshan branch of Synthetic Insights Ltd. Speaks nine languages, has extensive knowledge of-"
"EDI - pause" Miranda stated, causing the reading to cease immediately. "What do you think, Commander? Thirteen years of military service is quite impressive". At that Joker scoffed in mock amusement, to which she turned her head at him and transfixed him with her iciest look. "Something funny, mister Moreau?"
"You obviously don't know squat about Turians, operative" Joker replied a little warily under the gaze of the former cell director for the Lazarus Cell. "I mean, you probably know all kinds of things about human history and stuff, and science and biotics and please don't shoot me-"
"At ease, you two" Shepard gruffed at them and summoned their attention. "Me and Joker served with Turians for a year and a half during the construction and outfitting of the SSV Normandy before Eden Prime, Lawson. After that we worked with Garrus Vakarian of C-Sec. Turians, almost all Turians, enlist in the military in some capacity at age fifteen and serve in the military, which is also the state and every executive branch thereof, until they are thirty years old. In actuality it's not very impressive on its own. EDI" he spoke to the machine "tell me which world was Gerrik stationed on, and in which legion".
"Certainly, Commander. Gerrik Qui'in was part of the 53rd planetary legion – the Crimson Warhawks – stationed on the Turian core world of Digeris. A member of the digital logistics division-"
"EDI – pause" the Commander shook his head softly at the others when hearing that. "'Digital logistics' is Turian fancy-speak for 'paper-pushers'. They do not move out of their cubicles except for when on drills… at least that's what Garrus told me. This Gerrik guy might be the best hacker since Tali, but he's a former office hack that's taken to corporate security. He's living a comfortable and peaceful life, and no way would he join the mission even if we paid him a fortune. This recruit is dismissed. EDI, there are no recruits in the Hawking Eta cluster, so move on to the Omega Nebula. I see that there are four recruits there: tell me their names, species and last known locations and surmise their primary skills with a single word".
"Certainly, Commander" EDI spoke as she complied the data requested. "Mirah T'Katim, Asari, Lorek in the Fathar system, pilot. Mordin Solus, Salarian, Omega in the Sahrabarik system, scientist. Zaeed Massani, Human, Omega in the Sahrabarik system, assault. Unknown – codename Archangel, Turian, Omega in the Sahrabarik system, undertaker".
"Undertaker?" Joker wondered from aside. "Is that a technical term or something? He's not an actual grave digger, is he?"
"EDI, explain your summation of this Archangel's skills" Miranda requested, to which a period of silence followed until it was suddenly broken by a hiss of static coming from a playback of a recording. A voice, using a synthesiser to remain anonymous, spoke from out of that recording, and despite the poor quality of the sound all of the people in the room could tell that the speaker was filled with righteous fury and entirely bereft of mercy.
"Listen here, all of you parasite mercs" the voice, flanging like Turian voices often did, spoke coldly in a recording broadcasted through the entirety of Omega Station weeks before Shepard was brought back to life. "You have preyed on the innocent and the weak for the last time. You know me. You know my deeds. I am the one that have been destroying your shipments and slaughtering your men. I am the one that killed Keroth of the Eclipse. I am the one that burned the Blue Suns base in the Kima district to the ground. I am your undertaker, the one who will bring justice to the people of Omega. The locals call me Archangel. You may call me Death". The static went away and when sound came out of the intercom it was Evie's voice that spoke. "End of recording".
"This guy is made of awesome" Joker decreed in a firm tone.
"Is this person taking on both the Blue Suns and the Eclipse all at once? Is he fighting the Bloodpack too?" Shepard had asked that question in a disbelieving tone but got only a nod in response from Kelly and Miranda, making his eyes widen. "Alright… this guy is unbelievable. We have to have him. This works out great for us: the Sahrabarik mass relay is the gateway to the Terminus systems. Joker, EDI – set us a course for Omega".
"Sure thing, Commander" Joker nodded reluctantly after giving a limp salute and limped off towards the bridge and his cockpit. "I will notify the crew" Yeoman Chambers said as she too turned and made to leave, leaving Shepard and Miranda alone in the armoury.
"The mission is finally underway" Miranda noted and turned to leave. "I am glad. If you need me I will be in my office on starboard side of the crew deck, Commander-"
"We have to work together here, Lawson" Shepard stopped her from going with a few words spoken a little dourly. "Your attitude isn't helping anyone. Adjust it, stat".
"I have the utmost respect for your abilities, Commander" she managed to keep most of the sarcasm out of her voice as she turned and spoke at him and internally marvelled at her own restraint. "Your motivations are what concerns me. I believe in what Cerberus stands for. The Illusive Man ordered you brought back; only time will tell if you prove to be an asset or a liability".
"If we're are going to be working together, Lawson, if you are going to be my XO, then we will have to learn to trust each other". She could tell that the misgivings they shared were completely mutual and fully reciprocated by the edge to his words and the steel in his voice.
"Trust was never a requirement between co-workers in any previous Cerberus projects that I've been a part of" she noted.
"I'm not your co-worker but your commanding officer, and this isn't a Cerberus operation" Shepard informed her in short terms. "As far as I see it I'm still an Alliance Marine and a Spectre, and this is a freelance Alliance effort. We do things by the book, or we don't do them at all".
"I know who I report to, and so do you. As long as you don't do anything to betray Cerberus I'll follow your orders". She cut the conversation short by approaching the door and making it slide open before her with the activating sensors. "You'd best get yourself some weapons you are familiar with, Commander. There are trials ahead not even you can face without a great deal of firepower".
"Damn Cerberus" Shepard cursed after she was gone, leaving him alone in the armoury with his thoughts and the AI that watched passively and intently upon everything that transpired in the halls of the ship. Was this the right thing to do? He had asked the Illusive Man about his old squad, about Tali and Garrus and Wrex and Liara – about Ashley – but none of them seemed to be able to come with according to him. He would have to confirm that for himself later on… but he needed people he could trust. Joker, Chakwas, those engineers that said that they had served aboard the SSV Tokyo all those years ago along with him: those he could trust… perhaps. Two years was a long time, and even with all of this going on he felt lost and isolated. Perhaps Miranda was right. He needed something to hold on to, something familiar to clutch as he tripped off the edge of that darkened and blood streaked cliff and fell down into hell itself with little chance to ever come back. "EDI" he spoke onto the open air of the armoury.
"Yes, Commander?" the machine answered immediately.
"Do you have Alliance arms schematics and specifications in that database of yours?" While chasing after Saren he had gathered an arsenal of some of the best weapons in the galaxy, outfitting each of his squad members personally according to the squad's tactical needs, but now… now he needed weapons he was familiar with, guns he knew inside and out from his days as a marine and as an N7 graduate.
"Certainly, Commander. Are you referring to N7-class armaments? That would be logical, given your service records". Oh, heck yes. That machine was clever and polite and very, very handy to have around. Shepard was getting the feeling that he and EDI would get along like a Batarian political house on fire.
"I certainly am, EDI. Could you commence fabrication or otherwise provide a few weapons according to my specifications?"
"Certainly, Commander. What weapons would you like me to fabricate?" Oh, that was going to be hard to decide. He felt almost like a child in a candy store – an arsonist terrorist of a child in a candy store filled with confections made out of gunpowder and napalm.
"Let's start with the heavy stuff. An N7 Assault Rifle from the Typhoon series. A light machine gun – heavy as all hell, but packs a hell of a punch, and the face-plate is pretty handy too. Do you have schematics for the '81 model, the one with the underslung grenade launcher mount?"
"Certainly, Commander" came the immediate response as the request was complied, and the foundry in the rear of the armoury began to come alive in a dull rumble as fabrication commenced. "What colour scheme would you like? There is the standard N7 black and red, the camouflage scheme with five different variations for different terrain, and the limited edition pink and gold".
"Just get me the black and red, EDI. Don't want to stick out like a hack in Omega's poor lighting, after all. Alright… now, can you make an N7 Crusader shotgun from '78, the Torfan assault model? It's got two firing modes – pellets and a high precision slug – making it extremely versatile".
"Certainly, Commander. Should I assume that you prefer the standard chrome, black and red colour scheme given your previous selection?"
"Oh dear Earth, EDI – you're better than a gun store. Yes, I would like that. Can you fabricate a sniper rifle too? I need a… let's have an N7 Valiant, the standard model. I can optimise it later and calibrate the scope myself. Do you have enough material for that?"
"Certainly, Commander. We have additional nineteen pounds of fabrication alloys in stock. Would you like me to fabricate additional weaponry for you? I notice that you have yet to request a pistol or a submachine gun, and given the weapons you carried when coming aboard this vessel that would be your next request".
"EDI, you are fantastic". There seemed to be some perks to working in the private sector after all. Damn it, this was the coolest thing he had come across since he had faced that Geth armature back on Therum.
"Thank you, Commander. I exist to serve".
"Get me an N7 Eagle pistol of the '77 model and a N7 Hurricane submachine gun of any model. Fabricate all the weapons in the order of which I have mentioned them. ETA on all of that?"
"Seventy six hours until fabrication is complete, and an additional three hours to give the last firearm time to cool down before use. We are ninety two hours out of Omega Station".
"Excellent". Oh, yes – this was how it was supposed to be! Now, if only he could get that damn Cerberus operative to work the stick out of her perfectly sculpted ass things would be as good as they could feasibly be. "EDI, where should I put my armour? Is there a locker around here or something-"
"There is an armour locker in your private cabin, Commander. There you can store your armour and repair it using a retractable workbench with robotic helper arms. You can also repaint any armour you get".
"Fantastic" Shepard grinned. Well, it seemed like things were looking on the up-and-up.
"Did you have to paint your helmet with that… monstrosity?" Miranada spoke as they waited for the charge to be sounded in the depths of Omega's Kima district, standing in group yet slightly apart from the other mercenary freelancers hired by the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Bloodpack coalition to help them take down Archangel. It had been Shepard's plan, getting to Archangel under the guise of being one of the people out for his head, and she had to admit that the plan had some merit – though his current situation outweighed any merit she might have perceived.
"What? You don't like the paintjob on my helmet?" Shepard wondered gleefully, a little giddy before the battle started. His armour, painted black and red and detailed in white in the standard N7 pattern, clashed against the skintight uniforms of Jacob and Miranda where they stood beside him, and he had accentuated the effect by putting on his rebreather helmet – a helmet he had decorated with a painting of the face of a burning human skull.
"It looks silly" she protested, still a little annoyed at the man after he had introduced himself to the mercenary recruiter as "Jack Archer, the baddest dude in all the Verse" and the two of his squad members as his "Servants/sex slaves – can't you tell by the uniforms?". "It is very much over the top, and not very inconspicuous".
"I'm supposed to look like a merc, remember?" he argued while Jacob stood by the side, hoping not to be noticed by the bickering two. "I'll paint it over once we're back on the Normandy. But these people" he jerked his head at the mercenaries around them in their motley armour and scavenged piecemeal weaponry "don't respect military people. They go by theatrics and bravado. So yeah, I have to look like this. It's kind of cool, though? Yes?"
"No" she shot back.
"Not at all, sir" Jacob provided from aside.
"Yee of little faith" he shook his helmeted head and looked up ahead as the signal was sounded for the freelancer mercenaries to charge over the barricades of the district and assault the headquarters of the Archangel vigilante. Archangel was all alone now, his squad destroyed and his support torn away from out under him, and he was making his last stand in his last safe house, picking off his enemies from a distance with fearsome tech powers and high-precision sniper-rifle shots. He fought just like Garrus, Shepard noted internally… but surely… no! This was not the time for such ponderings. "Right" he nodded to the other two and unslung his new assault rifle from its rest upon his back, loving the heft of it. "Let's go get ourselves another member, squad!"
"Aye aye, sir!" Jacob confirmed while Miranda merely nodded as both of them brought forth their pistols, ready for the close quarter's combat that was sure to follow in the cramped rooms of Archangel's base, and in the rearmost position of the troop they followed, leaping over the barricades to follow the rest of the mercenaries towards the Kima district former warehouse turned apartment turned impromptu fortress. Archangel's headquarters lay across a bridge spanning a massive run-off canal, a funnel that had been feeding mercenaries to his fortress like meat through a grinder, and it was only by the end of the bridge, when they were out of range of the guns of the mercs beyond the barricade, that Shepard gave the signal for him and his squad to reveal their true natures. A concussive blast shot by Archangel bouncing off the neck of his armour in an almost pointed way that made him dazed and caused him to stumble before he managed to give the command.
This wasn't the only part of the plan. Shepard was no fool, and he knew that when they were across that bridge and fetched Archangel they would have to get back over it. So his little squad had, on his insistence, been snoping around the mercenary installation and camp beyond the barricades for the hours until the charge was sounded, sabotaging equipment, demoralising the other mercs by loudly discussing how many men Archangel had killed, and, by grace of Miranda's great skill with hacking and bypassing blocking computer software, reprogrammed a heavy mech they had found in one storage room to target all it saw upon activation and deployment, essentially turning it on its masters. They had laid the ground work – but still Shepard knew that this would still be a bloody battle.
Not that it seemed that way at first.
When confronting the raging mercenaries and attacking them from behind with a near surgical blast of force their loose formation, rag-tag and ineffectual as it already was, gave way and fell helplessly back to take cover within the walls of Archangel's safe house. The place had obviously been some sort of an apartment, Shepard noticed as he and Miranda and Jacob stormed in through the hacked doors and began tearing apart the freelancer formation. The main floor seemed to be possessed of one larger living and kitchen area, which they were busy blasting apart, and a connecting sitting area with attached bedroom and ensuite bathroom, but the windows were small, narrow or otherwise blocked and the angles sharp and allowing for much cover, making the entire room near perfect for the purpose of being a safehouse. The stairs in the rear of the room led up to an upper level with several more bedrooms and sitting areas, making for a sort of gallery on the upper level from which one could easily deal death on any invaders. It wasn't a fortress, granted, he had to admit that – but it was as good as you were going to get in the civilian sector.
This was easy, Shepard reflected as the three of them took out most of the mercs with only biotic powers and concussive rounds and blasts, doing as little damage as they could to poor men and women who had been persuaded into foolishness by the promise of easy money. A little too easy. With the urge to show off to the two under his command he took of the helmet they had so disliked and held it in his hand, counting on his kinetic barriers to keep his head safe from attack. "We used to play volleyball aboard the SSV Everest" he mused as he bounced his helmet in his hand a few times, thinking back to simpler days as he singled out a running mercenary on the far side of the main room. "Think fast!" he shouted, tossed the helmet high into the air and used just a hint of biotic power as he slammed it with his other hand, sending the helmet crashing through the air and straight into the head of that human, making him slide along the floor and hit a bookshelf with a loud thud. "Still got it".
"Blessed be!" Miranda muttered as that hideous helmet was finally done away with and the last two mercs were downed by Jacob, and nodding Shepard waved at them and headed for the stairs at the rear of the safehouse main floor, leading the other two behind him.
Over the bodies of the dead infiltration team they stormed into the room, lowering their weapons as Archangel sat just little distance further away. Leaning against the railing of a shattered window the slayer of mercenaries was crouching, visored eyes gazing coldly down the scope of his sniper rifle, calmly lining his prey up for the kill. "Archangel?" Shepard spoke to summon his attention, to which the sniper held up a single finger to usher calm, focused his aim again before he pulled the trigger, resulting in the last straggler kneeling over with half of his head taken away by the force of the shot. And then the Archangel of Omega, the sole avenging angel trapped in hell, stood form his perch and looked up at them, reaching up to take off his helmet.
"Shepard". That voice – disbelieving, relieved, strained and pushed to the max – despite the flanging he knew to whom that voice belonged. "I thought you were dead".
"Garrus!" he exclaimed, overjoyed, to which Miranda and Jacob looked to each other in slight confusion and great reproach. "What're you doing here?"
"Just keeping my skills sharp" came the answer in an attempt to quip as the former comrade of Shepard's sank down on a nearby chair, so tired and worn down to the bone that he could hardly muster any joy in seeing his friend once again – a friend he had thought was dead. "A little target practice".
"You okay?" Shepard said, approaching the Turian and putting his hand on his armoured shoulder, the black and blue once standard issue C-Sec armour now pitted and scarred and shattered in places, his kinetic barriers blasted away to a near-nothing.
"Been better" he looked up at Shepard and angled his mandibles, the Turian equivalent of a weak smile. "But it sure is good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work…" he paused for the longest time and when he did continue his tone was much, much darker "especially on your own".
"What happened to your squad?" Shepard wondered, knowing from the Cerberus dossier that Archangel had run a team of specialist from all over the Terminus systems in their fight against the mercenary bands that all but ran Omega. "When did you start calling yourself Archangel?"
"Dead, to a one, all of my men" Garrus coughed, the situation having worn on him and his health despite his lack of serious wounds. "And the name's just a name. Something the locals gave me for all my good deeds" no, his tone wasn't simply tired and stymied but bitter, something Shepard would never have associated with the idealistic but tough C-Sec agent that had joined his crusade against Saren.
"Commander" Miranda cleared her voice by the window, making the two look up to where she was indicating. "It seems that the mercenaries are moving back in on us. How do we proceed?"
"That bridge out there has saved my life, funnelling all those witless idiots into scope" he said as he stood from his seat and went towards the windows to which Miranda had moved during the reunion of the two old friends. "But… it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way. This place has held them off so far. And with the three of you… I say we hold this location until we see an opening in their defences or worn the fight out of them".
"Then we hold this bunker and wait them out" Shepard agreed readily, unholstering his assault rifle readily. "Defence formation Tanabe it is". A stray shot fired from the advancing mercenary formation strayed into the room and snapped them all to action, the squad and Archangel dashing for the cover of the balcony railing and hunkering down as they began to return fire in bursts. "How'd you manage to piss off every major merc organisation in the Terminus systems?" Shepard wondered as they hunkered down to dodge the suppressive fire sent their way by the mercenary advance.
"It wasn't easy!" Garrus informed before he popped out of cover for an instant to take aim, fire and then drop down again in what seemed like one fluid motion, almost supernatural in his accuracy. "I really had to work at it" he said then to Shepard as they kept out of the fire. "I'm amazed that they all teamed up to fight me. They must really hate me". He snuck a peek over the wall and noted the enemy positions before he looked back to his old commander. "You remember the Geth installations on the way to that cloning facility on Virmire?"
"You, me and Tali taking on the west wings of the gates while the other three took out the east wings and Kaidan gave suppressive fire from the MAKO?" Garrus nodded, and Shepard agreed with a smirk. "Lawson! Taylor! On my mark you start taking pot-shots on the advancing mercs! Garrus and I will lay down the law!" The Turian, as they spoke, exchanged his sniper rifle for an assault rifle of the Vindicator model and readied it as Shepard unslung his new assault rifle. "Now!" he shouted and as one the four went out of cover, Shepard and Garrus shooting blindly into the mass of advancing mercs and mechs while Miranda picked the exposed enemies off from the flanks. Under the sudden burst of heavy shooting and death amongst their ranks the Eclipse troops fell back, leaving only stragglers behind to what agent Vakarian once had called 'Turian mercy' as Garrus once again switched to his sniper rifle.
"Dammit!" Garrus cursed as his rifle overloaded with a hiss after a near dozen shots, the thermal clips within it spent and smoking. "Shepard, would you kindly hand me that human sniper rifle?" he asked and pointed to Shepard without a look as he discarded his own rifle, taking the human firearm without another word. "Why are you carrying a sniper rifle anyway? You couldn't hit the bulkhead of a ship you were standing inside of".
"Well, since the two people in my squad are two pyjamas-wearing Cerberus biotics who only use pistols – or a shotgun or a submachine gun if I ask them very nicely – I needed to have someone laying down some support" he shrugged as Garrus picked up the rifle and shouldered the stock, holding a little uncomfortably as it was not designed for use by Turians, and took aim, firing three times before popping the thermal clip and shoving in another one. He gave Shepard a harsh look that the human found the most perplexing. "What?"
"Where is the damn recoil?" the Turian wondered sharply and looked down the scope once again. "This rifle must have a recoil dampener of some sort. You squishy carapace-lacking humans must prefer it that way, but without compensating for recoil I can't properly double-tap. And what's with the three shots? I feel this rifle is being as impactful as a Salarian tourist".
"I'll just take it back then" Shepard grumbled and reached for the rifle, which Garrus held out of his reach pointedly before he settled to keep firing at the now regrouping mercs, their ranks bolstered by the arrival of the main Eclipse forces. "See? Don't knock this piece of fine human craftsmanship".
"Pah! If I only had a Krysae rifle or maybe a Phaeston I'd upshow your 'human craftsmanship'". As the mercenaries began to form up and resume their charge, reinforced by Eclipse troops from beyond the barricade, his quipping and joking ceased and his mood became stern. "Shepard, could you perhaps head down to the main level?"
"Sure thing. You just stay up here and keep safe, Garrus" Shepard nodded and signalled Jacob and Miranda, who moved in low crouches towards stairs as not to be hit by stray gunfire from the attackers approaching the safehouse.
"I'll stay up here" the Turian confirmed. "I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point. You… you can do what you do best".
"Wrex shit up?" Shepard grinned at his friend and comrade.
"Wrex shit up" Garrus nodded and sent Shepard on his way.
Charging back down the stairs Shepard, Jacob and Miranda went to hold the bridge against the assault of the oncoming Eclipse mercenaries and their auxiliary combat mechs and drones and sentry turrets. It seemed that the organisation that so often was focused on providing a vast array of different skills and powers to any field of battle rather than ferocity like the Blood Pack or the great discipline and relentless obedience of the Blue Suns fielded primarily regular soldiers and tech experts on Omega, which was almost a disappointment to Shepard. He could rarely go all out in battle except against another biotic – but as time wore on and the assault didn't seem to end he regretted the noting of ever having thought such a thing. Surely anything was preferable to such relentless carnage… but the charge seemed to stymie somewhat as –
"Shepard!" Garrus's voice hissed into the Commander's earpiece, the Turian having almost effortlessly piggybacked onto and hacked into the squad's radio frequency. "The proximity alarms on the lower levels are lighting up like Liara on Batarian ale. Blood Pack infiltrators most likely. Could you perhaps go down there and" a gunshot was heard as Archangel took out another target "take care of things? Maybe shut the service tunnel bulkheads and seal the hatches?"
Shepard, making a snap decision, looked to his two squadmates and quickly decided which one of them would complement Garrus's combat doctrine the best. "Jacob, you stay up here and keep pulling the hostiles into the open! Lawson and I will take care of the lower level hatches!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" Jacob nodded and hurried towards the front entrance of the safehouse, bending down and scooping up a discarded assault rifle of a piecemeal Batarian model that he shouldered and subsequently used to hold off the assault, using biotic pulls and pushes and throws to bring troublesome attackers within the line of fire of Garrus's new sniper rifle. Shepard, turning to Miranda, rushed towards the rear doors as she followed, down towards the basement of the safehouse with operative in tow, the levels dark and dank and the water and refrigeration pipes dripping yellowed moisture down onto their heads. "Keep your wits about you, Lawson – the Blood Pack deploy Vorcha, Varren and even Krogans. Stay in the back and provide me support".
"No charging straight into the thick of it, Commander?" Miranda wondered as they came around a corner and spotted a pair of now surprised Vorcha sappers, the vanguard of the main assault, which they swiftly downed with a few bursts of shots from their respective automatic weapons. "It's unlike you".
"I'm actually not crazy, no matter what Taylor keeps saying" he quipped back as they went down another hallways until they came onto a large open area from which three tunnels split. "Only an idiot engages Krogans in hand-to-hand when they're not their best, and despite all the working out I've done with Jacob these last few days I'm definitely not there yet".
"Vorcha can be pretty savage too, I've heard. All fang and claw" Miranda said as she dropped the bulkhead of the centre service tunnel, Shepard standing watch and giving suppressive fire to hold back the Varren that were charging down it during the ten second delay before the plating dropped and shut them off from the outside. "What is 'defence formation Tanabe'?"
"My old commander in the 103rd, Major Campbell, was the biggest closet history buff you'd ever meet" Shepard said as they went down the leftmost tunnel, walking slowly and keeping intent watch as they went. "She'd name all our formations and tactical moves after famous historical battles back on Earth. Fraustadt for the battle outside of Warsaw in the sixteen hundreds, Alessia for one of Caesar's great victories, Cannae for Hannibal's greatest triumph – stuff like that. Most of them were just variations on trying to encircle the enemy, but they differ in the fine points".
"And Tanabe?" she asked, uncertain, having never heard of that particular battle ever before.
"It's one of the smaller battles in the interlude to Sekigahara, the deciding battle of the Sengoku Jidai" he spoke as he leant around another corner and saw nothing down that tunnel, advancing warily with Typhoon assault rifle held high before him so that the face plate protected him should he come under fire. "Five hundred men under Hosokawa Tadaoki held the fortress of Tanabe against the Ishida-allied northern army of fifteen thousand. Two months they held that position, allowing Tokugawa Ieyasu to win against Ishida's other forces and become Shōgun of Japan".
"What happened to the men at Tanabae?" Miranda wondered, bewildered by this sudden and hidden depth of a man she had thought to be nothing but a military grunt favoured by fate and fortune.
"Dead to the last man" he replied more than a little grimly. "Essentially, it means that you follow orders and stay put unless told otherwise. You hold your position until you win or you die".
"Why not just use Thermopylae instead?" she had gotten the finest education credits could buy as a youth and thus knew plenty about a variety of topics, including military history. "It's more famous-"
"Yeah, because it's commonly thought as western tradition standing tall against an eastern infection" his tone was surprisingly venomous as he spoke about that as they slowly made their way towards the bulkhead up ahead. "Bullshit. The Persians were diverse, outlawed slavery – unlike the Greeks – and would have offered centralised government to a fractured and savage Hellas. And the Spartans were the cruellest and most psychotic sons of bitches in existence. Besides, what's more impressive: seven thousand holding for three days until Leonidas told them to stop cramping his style so he could die all noble and shit, or five hundred holding for two months for the honour of their true lord and master? And also, Thermopylae is a lot harder to say when a Batarian slaver is trying to stick a grenade up your ass".
"Huh" Miranda said as she stopped and stared at Shepard, her perfectly curved eyebrows furrowing her pale and unwrinkled brow.
"What?" he looked back to her. "Do I have something on my face?"
"You're…" Miranda spoke reluctantly, hesitant and amazed all at once. "You're a lot more intelligent than I thought, Shepard".
"I'm not sure if I'm flattered or insulted" he narrowed his eyes her way as he thought it over before he shrugged and let it go. "We should, uhm, probably get to closing those hatches. Garrus is taking a lot of fire up there, and we shouldn't let him sweat more than he absolutely needs to. Or whatever it is that Turians do instead of sweating".
"Shepard!" came the hiss through the communicator a little later as the Commander and his XO stood pressed against the sides of the main bulkhead, Shepard trying to hold back a Vorcha assault squad with nothing but a few grenades and the furry of his Typhoon rifle while Miranda was busy holding a Krogan berserker suspended in the air with a biotic stasis. "The Eclipse scum are deploying a heavy mech! Get yourself up here, now!"
"Relax, Garrus" Shepard went as the bulkhead slid shut before him and Miranda, cutting off the sounds of gunfire and chaos and ending the battle abruptly, leaving the two of them panting with unreleased energy. "I had Lawson hack that thing before we went in here. Let's just say that it's going to be mining for gold inside the mercs' heads. They'll never know what hit them".
"You know, you don't have to call me Lawson all the time" Miranda went as they headed for the final access tunnel, one that lay past a large vehicle hangar and work area that would soon be flooded with Blood Pack troops. "You called me Miranda on Freedom's Progress. Why not now?"
"Only if you call me Shepard" he muttered and scratched his chin. "Well, back then you had just saved my life and looked all sexy and powerful and stuff" Shepard shrugged as they stood in the doorway to that hangar, surveying the battlefield and the Vorcha formation slowing going through the open bulkhead in the back of the garage. "Oh" he said, realising what words he had just spoken, casting a look at the now staring Miranda as a slight embarrassed blush came into his sweat and blood-streaked cheeks. "I said that out loud. Dammit".
"Keep it professional, Shepard" she shook her head slowly at him, not admitting even to herself that the thought of attraction towards the commander was more than just a little bit… interesting. "Focus on the fighting, okay?"
"Right. Killing mercs and kicking ass. That I can do" Shepard nodded and reached for his grenade baldric, realising that he had only two left with a start. "Alright… Miranda, you take this one" he handed her one of the explosive devices. "Just pull the pin and toss it. It's incendiary, and I set it to explode on impact. On my mark we throw these things into the thick of their formation, wait three seconds, I charge in and do my best Wrex impression and you cover me. Watch my back, okay?"
"Of course, Shepard" she said and did just that as he turned his back to her, looking hard out that doorway, and she could see that the armour he wore had seemingly been perfectly sculpted for his muscular posterior – a view that she discovered to her horror that she enjoyed. Clearing her head with a vigorous shake she chastised herself for losing her head in this precarious situation. It would not happen again.
She was wrong in that – though she wouldn't know it until later.
"Now!" Shepard cried, and in perfect sync, acting in perfect unison by instinct more than anything else, they each threw a grenade into the centre of the Vorcha and Varren formation, instantly making it burst into napalm-enhanced green and blue flame. Counting down in his head Shepard gathered biotic energy around his legs and hands and pulled out his shotgun, holstering his assault rifle on his back before charging with a wordless battle-cry roar. He slammed into that now shredded and weakened and burning formation with a mighty crash, sending a few Vorch off their feet and into their brethren and their Varren and even slamming into walls. Miranda followed after in a hurry, using overload protocols and warping and lifting and stasis biotic attacks to make sure Shepard wasn't swamped, and in the end the two of them were the only ones standing, Shepard's shotgun smoking but not yet overheated as he popped in a spare thermal clip he found on one of the dead.
They managed to close that bulkhead too, but with some difficulty – despite Shepard taking the brunt of the Blood Pack assault the shots fired at them even managed to break through Miranda's kinetic barriers once or twice, grazing her and opening scratches in her cat-suit. Shepard received cracks in his armour, but otherwise he was fine when the bulkhead went down and his biotic barriers went back up as he recovered. The peace, though, was not to last.
The elite mercs of the Blood Pack, the three Krogan in the main guard and their retinue of the twelve most savage Vorcha in the entire organisation, had charged over the bridge despite Garrus's and Jacob's best efforts to keep them at bay, and though they managed to take most of them out the leader, Jorgal Garm, managed to get through. He was currently on the top floor of the safehouse, the two desperately struggling to hold him at bay.
Shepard and Miranda, having forced themselves to push aside their tired states, burst into the room with guns blazing just as Garm, roaring curses in the royal speech of Tuchanka's main continent, was barrelling down on Garrus. A slug striking the Krogan Battlemaster in the brow-plate made him roar and divert his full attention towards Shepard who had fired with his Crusader shotgun, charging at him with biotics and Krogan bloodrage burning in the air around him.
In the end they managed to bring him down, though not easily. Shepard's Crusader was knocked out of his hands and off into the distance, Miranda's both pistols overheated, and Jacob all but broke an arm, but in the end they managed to kill the fiend by all converging on him and holding him down as Garrus emptied an entire thermal clip's worth of shots right into his eyes. "Ah!" Garrus sighed loudly as he sank down on a chair on the top floor, his carapace plates fiendishly hot. "You're kicking ass Shepard – they barely touched me! Your squad's pretty good".
"You took down the mech before alright?" he panted back, supporting his weary back on now shaking knees. "I think the Eclipse's leader was called… Jaroth or something…"
"Me and your fellow human here took out that mech after the Eclipse had almost done the work for us" Garrus went and gestured vaguely Jacob's way where the former marine was slouched down on the floor, sweating and streaked with dirt and blood after much hard and savage fighting. "And we took out Jaroth in the process. Jaroth, and now that freak Garm… you're making my day".
"There is something on this datapad, Commander" Miranda said as she scavenged over the downed Krogan's body, pulling a small computer interface from the creature's inner armour pockets. "It's a message, from Jaroth of the Eclipse-"
"The guy I killed?" Garrus asked little smugly but still tired, still wary, still bitter and resigned.
"Percisely" Miranda nodded and read the message, noting the contents of the message with hardly a draw of the lip or any sort of registration of information on an emotional level, cold and calculating once again. "' Assuming this operation is successful, we can count on high morale and extensive buy-in from the men. From the losses we've already taken, possibility exists that we won't have the men needed to continue on to the next objective. It's clear, though that none of our organizations would be ready to move on Aria without the assistance of the other two'." She looked up at Garrus. "They seemed to have intended on moving on Aria, the kingpin of Omega".
"She'll probably give me a mountain of credits for killing their sorry selves, then" Garrus noted and nodded. "Perhaps… no, I've had more than enough of this station. I'll come along with you gladly Shepard, no matter what the mission is".
"That's great, Garrus. When we were heading up the bridge you nailed me good, by the way" Shepard noted as he just about wanted to sink down and fall helplessly to the floor. Damn it, this was a lot of fighting. For how long had they… it felt like hours, at the very least.
"Concussive rounds only" Garrus confirmed tiredly, almost sleeping on the spot but trying to keep himself awake as he knew that the Blue Suns hadn't made their move yet. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, but I needed to get you moving. It worked, didn't it? As soon as I shot you you gave the command to-" Garrus suddenly shot wide awake and tapped his small targeting visor. "I'm getting nothing from the proximity alarms. Communications are being disrupted. The Blue Suns must've-"
A dull thudding sound, the sound of a gunship rising from the depths of Omega, began to fill the air, and suddenly crashing shattered the peace around the group as what seemed like a whole army of mercenaries, in blue and white armour all, repelled down the sides of the building from the levels above using heavy metal cables and crashed in through the windows all around them, guns blazing. As the squad and Archangel dashed for cover the gunship they had heard rose to be level with the top floor of the safehouse and, in a disregard for the lives of his men that made Shepard sick to the very core with disgust, began firing regardless, dead set on trying to wipe Archangel from the face of the galaxy.
Miranda, having now no viable weapons, hung back as the other three kept fighting off the oncoming mercenary assault and focused her efforts on the gunship piloted by the leader of the Blue Suns on Omega, Tarak, peppering his gunship with overloading protocols and scrambling its targeting system with an overload of junk data, hacking into its systems as fast as her Omni-tool allowed. Her fingers seemed to be nothing but a blur as fast as she was coding, and she had to use almost all of her combat hacking skills just to give them a fighting stance against the brobdinagian machine. As the gunship dropped out of sight to reconfigure its systems Miranda looked up to find the mercenaries still advancing but now much fewer in number, led by a human woman with dully red hair toting some sort of assault rifle.
Her amps now nice and cool after not having used them in the good eight minutes she had spent taking the gunship out of commission Miranda charged up her biotics and went out of cover, dashing to the side of Shepard as she simultaneously used a biotic pull on that commanding woman, hurtling her through the air and slamming her into the wall behind Shepard with a heavy thud. The woman, limp and definitely unconscious, didn't react when Miranda took her pistol for herself, handing the assault rifle she had been toting to Shepard who promptly tossed it Garrus's way, relying instead on his trusty new Typhoon with the underslung grenade launcher and the attached bayonet.
But at the end of the charge, at the head of the last wave, they sent in the heavy infantry.
"Take this!" Shepard gruffed at Miranda and handed the Typhoon assault rifle to her as he saw one very specific kind of Batarian soldier repelling down the side of the building and bursting into the room along with the others, one whose blue and white armour was lined with serrated blades and massive spikes. "Use the grenade launcher to take out the gunship. I know Garrus has some grenades in the back room. And stay alive".
Batarian Brawlers were some of the toughest hand-to-hand fighters in the galaxy, as they were often the fittest and strongest and most physically skilled and inclined in a warrior culture that had always put emphasis on brute strength and ferocity. That brutal combat doctrine, coupled with biotic prowess often on par with an Asari Commando, made any Batarian Brawler – or Shakta'Hhaan, Blood Dancers, in their own language – a fierce opponent, especially at close range. Shepard had first faced them when defending Elysium from slavers during the Skyllian Blitz, then on mass during the assault on Torfan, and his practice of using biotics to enhance his physical abilities had been inspired by those warriors in part, an inspiration only realised when he had fought alongside the Krogan Battlemaster Wrex. He hadn't fought a Brawler since – and as he faced down that man across the room he grinned savagely.
This was the best test of his abilities and new amps he could feasibly think of. "Miranda, Jacob – give Garrus cover and keep the brutes off his back! This one's too much for you to handle!" he shouted. Gathering his biotics around himself in a glowing flood, the blue dark energy pooling around his feet and whirling around his fists, he cracked his gauntleted fingers and set off against that looming warrior in Blue Suns armour. And the Brawler responded in turn, his spiked and jagged armour turning to face Shepard as he pushed the other mercs to the side and set off in his own biotic charge, using a low shelf as springboard to propel himself into the air even as the furniture was crushed beneath his feet.
Shepard leapt high into the air, trying to match the Batarian's height and force as they hurtled towards each other. For a moment, a fraction of a second, Shepard's bright eyes met the Batarian's black stare, and an understanding passed between them – an understanding like only warriors about to engage in a battle to the death with each other could reach. Instinctive, hateful, respectful, steely – it was all of those things. And then it was over as they slammed together.
The bladed and spiked armour of the Brawler would have shredded Shepard had he been armoured and unprotected by kinetic barriers, but he still packed a mean punch. As the two clashed the Batarian, being rested and fresh to the battle, had the upper hand, and by his force they were thrown into the far wall, and through it, tumbling off the top floor and slamming into the main floor with a heavy thud.
Struggling to get the upper hand Shepard lashed out with a kick swirling with biotic power, blasting the Batarian off of him but didn't damage him due to the strength of his barriers, and rose and took a breather before the enraged Brawler charged again. He dodged to the side, blocking a few of the Batarian's thunderous strikes with his forearms until he parried the arms to the side and lashing out with another kick. The foe tore himself free and jumped back, making the kick miss, the biotic shockwave produced by it charging through the air of the room and crushing a far wall into scattered debris. As they two dodged away from each other a massive explosion rocked the top floor of the building, sending dust and debris falling from the ceiling, and Shepard cursed. He was hearing nothing over the com, the communications broken by the Blue Suns interference. All silent up there. He hoped that his people were alright.
Grunting and snarling that Batarian pulled out a heavy trenchknife from his boot and adopted a fighting stance as Shepard settled back, moving lightly on the balls of his feet despite his armour. He had trained for situations just like this, after all. The Brawler charged, knife slashing from on high, and Shepard, tired and wan, struggled to block both that strike and the following five, looking for any means of getting the drop on his enemy as his pistol and submachine gun clattered at his hips with every dodge – of course! He went on the offensive, striking thrice again and gripping the knifebearing wrist with his free hand, locking himself into position with the Batarian as he pulled his submachine gun from his hip and aimed it right at the Brawler's gut.
He blasted away, spending the entire thermal clip until the pistol was overheated and useless without doing much damage other than the last few shots going through the kinetic barriers and bouncing near uselessly off his armour – but that was all he needed it to do: weaken the brute's kinetic barriers. Dropping the gun to the floor he gathered a mass of biotic power into his fist, as much as he could muster in a single strike, and then struck forwards with explosive intent. His own barriers were still up and strong, recharged after the hellish fighting down in the lower levels, and they almost glowed around his gauntlet as he struck with all his might, his hand striking hard into the Batarian's armour's chest plate with a dull boom and a loud snapping crack. Gurgling, his lips near liquidised by the force of Shepard's blow, the Brawler fell to the floor along with his knife, beaten and broken.
Downing his enemy Shepard straddled him and gathered all the biotic power he had left into his fist, holding the Brawler down by his other hand wrapped around his throat. "Good fight" the Batarain managed to growl despite its crushed lungs, and Shepard agreed with a panting nod before he slammed his biotically charged fist down on the alien's head, reducing it into a gory red and grey paste on the floor of the safehouse, blood splattering hot, slick and utterly disgusting over Shepard's face and armour. Standing then, panting and stumbling and tired out of his mind, he made his way up the stairs to the top floor that had now falling strangely silent. And what he saw there… terrified him.
"Joker! Send someone, anyone!" Jacob snapped into his communicator as he conversed with the Normandy, Miranda by his side crouched over the downed Garrus who had seemed to have taken a missile straight to right side of his body, the woman applying Medi-gel with an expression of fierce frustration on her face as she worked. "He's dying over here-"
As Shepard went to the Turian's side Garrus took a sharp intake of breath and reached for the barrel of his discarded sniper rifle, dazed, in pain and in critical condition but alive. "Stay with me Garrus!" Shepard all but barked as he took one canister from Miranda and began applying it with trembling fingers to his friend's blasted apart mandible and face. "Hold on!"
But, struggle as he may, the Turian couldn't keep conscious, and darkness flooded his world.
"Commander, we've done what we could for Garrus". Jacob's words came out slowly and tiredly as he, along with Shepard, Miranda and Shepard's Yeoman Kelly were being debriefed twenty six ship-side hours after the battle of Kima district, Jacob's face still scratched and bruised after the blast that had knocked him and Garrus down – Garrus more permanently so. The only reason they were alive was because of Miranda, who had managed to down the gunship with a few precisely fired grenades to its cockpit, sending it plummeting into the black depths of Omega where not even Aria, ruler of the station, dared the tread, and then taken control of the situation, ordering Jacob to radio Jacob as she tended to the critically wounded Turian. "But he took a bad hit, sir. The doc's correcting the damage with extensive surgical procedures and some cybernetics. Best we can tell he'll have full functionality, but-"
"Shepard" said a distinctive flanging voice from the doorway, and the four humans looked up to see the Turian standing there like nothing was amiss, his armoured now even more pitted than before and the entire lower right side of his face secured with a supportive bandage and a cybernetic heat regulator for adjusting to his bodily temperature. His mandibles, especially on the right side of his face, were scratched down to the flesh and freshly pink like a baby Turian's – but he was up and about already, and gave Shepard the equivalent of a smile as he entered the briefing room.
"Huh" Jacob chuckled, impressed, the Turian having already earned both his and Miranda's respects for his actions. "Tough son of a bitch. Didn't think you'd be up yet".
"Takes more than that, Jacob. Give it to me straightforwardly, Shepard" the Turian spoke slowly and a little tenderly. "None of them want to tell me how bad it looks, and nobody wants to give me a mirror".
To Miranda's surprise Shepard began to grin as if intent on joking. "Hell, you were always ugly, Garrus" he drawled and bobbed his head. "Slap some face-paint on there and no one would even notice". Was he… was he verbally abusing his own squad mates? That couldn't be good for morale, not at all.
"Heh!" the Turian chuckled but seemed to wince and twist his head to the side for an instant. "Don't make me laugh! Dammit, my face is barely holding together as it is". Garrus stepped up to the briefing table and place his hands on it as he leant at it. "Though this might be a good thing. Women were always ignoring you and hitting on me. At least now you might score a hit – figuratively of course. You're still an awful shot".
"And you're not brave enough to take a Geth prime down from up close" Shepard taunted.
"Of course I'm not. That would just be suicidal, and stupid – and I'm not stupid. But I am going to be getting more attention from Krogan women from now on" he said as Jacob saluted, his report complete, and stepped from the room after Shepard had given him an approving nod. "Frankly" said he, casting a look at Kelly and Miranda "I'm a little more worried about you. Cerberus, Shepard. You remember those sick experiments they were doing?"
"That's why I'm glad you're here, Garrus" he said to the Turian, speaking just as severely as his friend did. "Fighting the Collectors… I'm walking into hell, and I want someone I trust on my side".
"You do realise that this plan has me walking into hell along with you?" Garrus remarked, satisfied with knowing that his old comrade hadn't changed from his old ways. "Heh. Just like old times".
"Garrus, I need someone to check out the Normandy's forward battery" Shepard urged, now less serious, more exploring of the options that lay ahead of him. "This is Miranda Lawson, my Chief of Staff and Executive Officer" he pointed to the women by the side of the table "and Kelly Chambers, my Yeoman and assistant. You've already met Armoury Chief Jacob Taylor. Effected immediately I'm promoting you to the position of Gunnery Officer".
"Oh, a promotion and big guns" Garrus chuckled gingerly, trying not to move his mandibles too much as he spoke. "You know just how to make my day, Shepard – rocket to the face non-withstanding. I'll be in the forward battery if you need me. I'm sure your human guns could use some" a certain honest glee filled his voice at the prospect "calibration".
"You can't go wrong, Garrus" Shepard nodded at him with a grin. "Dismissed". The Turian gave Shepard the legionary salute – right fist pointing to the left, thumb pointing upwards, as he held it over the centre of his breastplate – before he too grinned and turned, marching out of the room with a practiced military ease. "Your thoughts, Miranda?" Shepard didn't even have to look at her to feel her disproval, and he was afraid that every gain he had made with her during the previous mission had been undone with that single decision.
"I'm not so sure about letting an outsider gain access to our most advanced weapons technology" she spoke slowly, considering every word "but it is obvious that he is loyal to you. Turians are notoriously honourable, and I doubt that he would betray you". It seemed the ball was still up in the air whether or not she believed that Shepard would betray Cerberus, but it seemed that he was getting some leeway with her. And, Shepard reflected as he looked her over in her skin-tight suit, he would not mind getting more than just leeway with – no! He slapped himself inwardly. Bad Shepard! No consorting with the enemy!
"It seems that the location of one of our other potential recruits has changed, Commander" Kelly supplied from aside and reviewed the information on the datapad clutched in her arms like a babe. "The prison ship Purgatory has moved from the Faryar system to the Osun system in the Hourglass Nebula, just a single relay jump away. Do you want to pursue that recruit instead of staying at Omega?"
"Negative, Chambers" Shepard shook his head and considered the matter. "We get the other two recruits here before we go get… was it the insane and murderous biotic we were getting on the Purgatory?" A nod came in confirmation, and he nodded in turn. "Good. We'll go there after these next two recruits, Solus and Massani, and then we'll go back to the Omega Nebula and get that Asari from that peripheral system. We'll see after that".
"Of course, Commander" Kelly nodded and flashed him a bright smile before leaving the room, going no doubt to tell Joker that they weren't going anywhere any time soon and that he would have to resign himself to boredom a little longer while they were docked with Omega – leaving Shepard once more alone with Miranda.
"You did very well down there, Shepard" Miranda noted slightly as she put both hands on the desk and leant in over it just like him – though he found the view she provided much more tantalising that a mirror image of himself would have been. "It was a rough situation, but you came through, and when a dangerous threat occurred you risked your own life rather than having us face fire while low on ammunition".
"The Blood Dancer?" he wondered, to which she nodded with a slightly bewildered frown. "That's what those were called. You don't spend five years of your career doing almost nothing but fighting Batarians without picking up some knowledge about their culture".
"Layers upon layers, Shepard" she remarked, impressed. "History, intelligence, respect for your foes… How deep and complicated of a man are you?"
"I'm a very simple man with very simple needs" he quipped back, to which she smiled slightly in her trademark way. Damn it… she was beautiful. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "You did very well too, Miranda. You saved the day, more or less, and you kept one of my best friends alive. I owe you for that".
"Enough for you to trust me?" she wondered and leant away from the table, supporting herself on it with one arm and an angle so that her hair tumbled off her shoulders and hung low and shining in the stark light of the briefing room. She was walking on air, and she knew it. Facing odds like that and coming out without even a single casualty for it… it made you want to seize life by the horns and go with the heat of the moment, regardless how little like herself she was acting.
"I suppose if it's mutual" he shrugged, to which she flipped her hair around as she turned to head towards the door, his eyes fixed on her… back as she went.
"It might very well be, Shepard, after proving yourself like that" she stopped in the doorway and smiled at him over her shoulder, and he couldn't help but return that smile with a no doubt stupid grin of his own before she went out of that door and was gone.
Once she was gone his smile slowly shifted into a snarl, and he pinched the bridge of his nose hard in frustration. "Damn it, John" he cursed at himself. "Just because she's hot, smart and saved your life doesn't mean you should start falling in love with her".
And scene!
Oh… was that a ship-tease? I bloody well think it is! Ladies and gentlemen, the ship is a-go!
I've always thought it weird that, in a galaxy of billions, if not trillions, of people, there would only be a dozen people worthy of joining Sheppy's squad. Don't worry, he's going to have the very same folks in his squad as in Canon – the road getting there might be a little more serpentine, though. This Asari pilot will die horribly in two chapters and probably off-screen, as it were… unless you people think the squad needs a named shuttle pilot instead of just some random Cerberus Johnnie?
And sorry about the gun-porn in the middle of the chapter. My dad's an amateur gunsmith, so I hear a lot about firearms almost every day, and the nuts-and-bolts of the specs and the models are actually kind of cool even if I'm more of a sword-and-fists kind of guy myself. Also, I am a history student, so I apologise about the history rant in the Kima safehouse access tunnels. Call it a slight personal indulgence.
Lastly, I was getting tired of dialogue when Sheppy and Miranda go at each other's throats. Attribute the OOC stuff in the end of the chapter to good moods and the awesome feeling of being alive after coming face to face with death. Anyway, that's all I have to say. Next chapter should be up fairly soon, but until then…
Read and Review, and DFTBA!