Author's Note: Hello readers, I am back with a new chapter. I am incredibly sorry for the delay, I never meant for it to happen, but some real life problems prohibited me from writing for a number of months. I'm quite sure that the next chapter will be out sooner than this.
If anyone would like to take a peek, Roku and I have gone back and redone Chapter 1. Be on the lookout, since we plan to redo Chapter 2 and 3 in the near future as well.
As always, a shout out to my beta and awesome co-writer Roku - Molester of Science for all of his help so far. Don't forget to check out his story everyone, since that is where my own gets it's roots. Anyways, let's get on with the next installment, shall we?
Tyler was practically panting – like a sweaty bastard even - by the time he reached the top of the hill overlooking the Normandy's crash site. Apparently, 'not far' was a loose term with Asari as it was. He wasn't the only one sounding utterly winded by the trek, however, as the sounds of heavy breathing could be heard through the coms, coming from multiple members of the squad. The only one who didn't seem visibly affected was Scorch, much to Tyler's surprise. There just seemed to be something different about that man, except Tyler really had little idea as to what it would be.
The marine-turned-operative blinked once, then twice, as he gazed upon the crash site, surprised by just how large it was in person. The TV he had played the games on – back then – wasn't doing the scene in front of him any justice whatsoever. What was left of the Alliance frigate had settled in the center of an open plain, overlooked by a series of steep hills, all covered in ice. The majority of the holed hull had held together, its two wings closer to the initial impact zone. Likely, they had broken off during the violent, fiery crash. There was a deep trench in the ship's wake, deep enough that if one fell in, getting out would be something of an issue. The bottom was filled with snow and ice, which would bring death in minutes if you lingered in it, half an hour tops, if in a hardsuit. Not exactly my first choice of vacation, this here place…
The most noticeable factor, however, was the sheer amount of men in the Bone-white armor of the Shadow Broker, numbering at fifty, and that was being cheap. They were spread out across the whole crash site, picking through ice and steel. They didn't appear overly concerned with the battle happening no more than a kilometer away, moving what appeared to be with a leisurely pace as they rummaged through the corpse of the ship with scanners in hand. It was clear that they were there for Shepard's body, taking any pieces of advanced tech that they could in the process.
To Tyler, it was still completely odd and turned around to be looking for Shepard, what with him having been in a close-up fight with the Shepard, back on the Citadel. Of course, for some reason, this time Shepard was a Quarian. Because the Universe hated making sense.
"That's...a lot of baddies," Tyler stated through the coms after a moment, peering through his built-in binoculars. They were handy like that, he supposed. They'd been outfitted with them after the Citadel-mission, and so far the piece of extra gear was really coming in handy.
Gripped his Phaeston a bit tighter, his knuckles turned white under his armored gloves, the coloring a result of tenseness and bone chilling cold. His not so healed left arm, which was used to hold the majority of his rifle up, gave a wince in protest at the action; causing him to grimace in discomfort. He hadn't had nearly enough time to heal, that much was evident, but he had been, and still was, very much adamant about participating in the mission; "So, we taking them?"
Even as he spoke, his body was in the process of healing itself, at a rate that only a Krogan could manage under the best of circumstances. Even so, whatever doctor he saw afterwards was going to give him something of an earful, that much was guaranteed.
"This may complicate things…" Miranda muttered as she stood beside him, her Locust resting across her stomach in its straps as she looked over the scene in front of her. Her intelligent, cerulean eyes, aided by her helmet's integrated binoculars, swept over the crash site, meticulously noting every enemy position that she could see from her current position. As she did, they appeared one by one on the team's shared HUD; "It appears we arrived behind schedule. There won't be any lack of opposition, dammit…" she continued, her perfect lips creasing into a slight frown. "I'm sure you're excited, Kraken" she finished wryly, sending a glance toward the burly commando under her command, only receiving a curt nod in reply from the man. Kraken was very much still the burly soldier of the team, dragging around a Revenant like it was his infant child. Tyler would catch the man cradling the gun every so often, and never failed to make a bit of fun at the heavy soldier's cost.
Liara and Scorch were quiet as they looked over the site in front of them, neither willing to add any more than they had to. With a sigh, Liara activated her omnitool, browsing until through the endless streams of data that she received from her networks, eventually finding the heavily encrypted file that held the location to Shepard's body.
She had held out on giving Cerberus the location for a number of reasons until now, the foremost not being her deep-rooted distrust of the organization, but for fear of the Shadow Broker's hackers. When the Shadow Broker wanted information, he got it, there was no question about it, and she had exactly what he wanted. With a few deft commands, she transferred the data to the Cerberus commandos. The location went to their respective omnitools, before it linked up with their HUDs, the new information displayed before their eyes.Well…fuck me…
Needless to say, the location of John'Shepard's body was not what Tyler - or any of the commandos for that matter - had been hoping for. Because OF COURSE it couldn't be simple. Simple is for the Alliance, the 'legit' guys. We have to handle all the rest, the shit that makes absolutely no sense what-so-fucking-ever.
Tyler bit his lip with a frown as he realized just how…uncivilized, his thought-process had become already.
As it turned out, Shepard - with the help of gravity - had followed the same path the Normandy had, and had landed within a hundred yards of the Normandy's bow. While this placed the body well outside the current area that the Broker had his men investigating, it also meant that M-6 either had to backtrack down the hill and find a new path to the body while remaining undetected, or they had to fight their way through the Shadow Army's forces that were present.
"We're going to have to fight, aren't we?" Loki asked from the side; shifting on his heels as glanced away from the crash site in-front of to look at the rest of the team.
"Oh joy…and here I was hoping for simple mission." Valkyrie muttered; "You know, like those guys in the Alliance always complain about?"
"It's shooty-killy, Val, what could be more simple?" Blue Tooth grinned with his voice alone. God, if there was a man Tyler like having on his side, and not as his superior, it would be Blue Tooth, or Bee-Tee, as the team called him. I…actually don't know his real name…damn.
"Says the guy carrying a grenade-launcher." Valkyrie shot back with a groan. Tyler, situation in spire, couldn't quite contain his smile at her words. Anna's sense of humor, whether she knew it or not, wasn't all that bad. Couple that with freckles and a cute nose, and she was quite attractive to boot. Shortly put: she was out of his league. Plus, she's probably already got a boy-friend or something…Not much hope for me there…
Jacob nodded in acknowledgement at the team's resident heavy-weapons user, his face pressed into hard lines under his polarized helmet as he looked over the battlefield ahead of him. The odds had been worse in the past, far worse, but that didn't make him feel any better. In the heat of battle, something could always go wrong, that much he had learned over the years. Combat was Ferguson's Law at its finest, really.
"It would seem we do not have much choice in the matter. We need to get to that body before the Broker's men get closer to it, or we're having a whole lot more shit to deal with…" Jacob replied.
"Can...can we call in reinforcements, or an airstrike? Something like that?" Tyler piped up with a suggestion. "I mean, they're not really near the body. Why don't we just bomb 'em out of their holes and clean up the rest on the way?"
"Not… a horrid idea, Tyr" Freya replied – oh yes, his gloriously appropriate call-sign – as she activated her omnitool. While she wasn't afraid to use his real name in the 'privacy' of the station they were based out of, out here there were probably people listening in on the coms other than Cerberus command, possibly even the Shadow Broker personally, considering how large a blip they had been on his radar over the years.
While Freya contacted the local Cerberus forces about support, Tyler took a moment to gaze upon the wreckage of the Normandy. The scene was oddly...serene, at least to him. Due to the atmosphere, everything was quiet as a light snow fell from the skies above onto what had once been the most famous ship in the galaxy, to humans at least. It was an almost mystifying scene as well, because, needless to say, Tyler had never expected to see a ship of it's size in person.
When he had been younger, he had once seen the USS Enterprise of the United State's wet-navy – and it was just weird to use that term for the only navy he'd known growing up, but there it was – during a family vacation to the east coast. During his days, that supercarrier had been one of the largest ships roaming the seven seas for God and country, and now I would hardly even match the size of a cruiser, much less the modern-day carriers of the Alliance.
As quickly as the moment had begun, it was over as Freya dropped her hand from the comm, and the orange glow that had surrounded the female Aussie's forearm dissipated into thin air. "Alright, listen up, even if the body isn't in the strike zone, bombs are a no-go. Instead, a couple of gunships are en route for a strafe while we move in on ground. Any questions?" she asked through the coms, peering at the group assembled before her as she drew the SMG from her side.
The only reply she was received was silence, coupled with a few nods in acknowledgement. Liara's expression, no doubt hard, was hidden behind her visor as well. Scorch was silent like the others, but did little to show adherence to Miranda's orders.
Freya continued after a moment, fluidly drawing her SMG once more as she did so. "While the gunships clear out the Broker's main forces, we'll move into position to secure the area. Once we possess Shepard's body, reinforcements will move in to assist us with the recovery," she continued before pausing. After a moment, she picked up again. "Heimdahl and...Tyr, I want you two on overwatch in the hills to the west" she declared as her gaze locked on the two men in question. Over…what-now?
Because really, he wasn't carrying a sniper around, last he checked.
Behind the polarized visor of Tyler's helmet, both eyebrows were raised in confusion. She wanted him to stay back from the fighting? Most people, sane at least, would have wanted to stay out of the fighting as much as possible, but Tyler wasn't that way. He was, by no means, stupid. He knew that this wasn't a game, at least anymore.
No, the reason that he wanted to get into the thick of it, to put it simply, was because of his recently acquired abilities. Thanks to Alex, he had gone from human to… "something a hell of a lot stronger", if that was an actual designation, and more dangerous to boot. However, in the end he knew better than to protest. "Affirmative" he replied curtly as he shifted his rifle's weight in his hands.
He glanced over at Heimdahl, who was usually one of the more quiet ones, unlike Kraken, or Loki who had the oddest technobabble moments now and then. The team sniper had already unfolded his rifle: a custom-made M-13 Raptor that had been modified quite a bit, with tech that Tyler doubted was legal in Council Space, not to mention Alliance. He had heard of such modifications in the past, but knew very little of them personally, and didn't put it past Cerberus to use them. It was Cerberus after all. If anything, he would have been rather surprised if they didn't use them.
"Acknowledged, Freya. I think I see a good location to set up already" he said over the coms as he peered over the landscape before him. True to Alcheran nature, the local landscape provided a number of hills and rocky outcroppings, which was something of a paradise for snipers like Heimdahl. And absolute hell for people in heavy armor, such as me…
"Good" Miranda murmured to herself as she tilted her head to size up the rest of her team. Eventually, her gaze settled upon Liara and her escort, both of whom were watching her intently. Likely, she could practically feel distaste radiating off them as she held her gaze unyielding. Scorch was standing ready at the Asari's side, unyielding and ready with the od rifle in his hands. Tyler still wanted to see the man fire it, if only to de- or confirm that it really was a blaster.
"Miss Broker" she began tersely. "I would feel more…" she paused, likely regretting the choice of call-sign for the Asari. Tyler knew he'd feel extremely awkward about addressing the cold Asari as 'Angel'; "…comfortable if you stayed back. We don't need to take any unnecessary risks. Especially with someone like you, Doctor" the Aussie stated.
For a brief moment, Liara stared Miranda down, not saying a word. Even though the Asari was wearing a helmet that covered the entirety of her face, those present could practically see the look of distaste that she wore, possibly even a sneer. "Thank you for your...concern, Miss Lawson. However, I would prefer to take part, if at all possible. I'm not as fragile as you may be so inclined to believe, and time is of the essence, is it not?" Liara inquired as she tilted her head to the side slightly. Judging by her tone of voice, it almost sounded as if she was talking down at Miranda like she was an ignorant child, and Liara a stern schoolteacher.
Tyler glanced at the large man that was Liara's escort, Scorch, wondering what he was going to say.
As it was, he looked almost undecided, as his head tipped slightly between Liara and Miranda more than once. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke up. "How about we hold we hold up the rear of the attack?" he proposed, suddenly sounding more bashful than he been moments earlier; "That way we can let these "good" guys get shot at instead."
"Right here, you know?" Loki muttered, offended. It was, however, unlikely that the hacker knew what was going on behind the bigger soldier's T-visor.
While Scorch knew that Liara was quite a good fighter, damn good even, he still hated the thought of her getting hurt. On more than one occasion, while escaping the Shadow Broker and his men, she had gotten too close to death for his comfort. He was the warrior of the two anyways, a 'real life Spartan' as one of Liara's human employees had once called him.
He'd still to figure out exactly why he was being compared to a Greek guy.
For a long moment, Liara stared levelly at Scorch, before finally sighing in resignation. "I would find that to be...acceptable." She finally conceded to Miranda, though she never looked away from Scorch. Tyler assumed that she was giving the man some sort of 'we'll take later'. Which, just to make it clear to himself, was a very odd thing for Liara to do in his eyes. Tyler knew Liara could be…cold, as the years passed, but he still had been quite surprised to find her already capable of hating people like she obviously did them.
Jacob cleared his throat, earning the attention of the soldiers present. "Air support is a minute out. We may want to get into position while we can." He suggested as he pulled his an Avenger from off the back of his armor. "Heimdahl and Tyr, double time it, I want you two set up half an hour ago. The rest of you, with me and Freya" he ordered brusquely.
While the majority of the assembled commandos unslung their weapons and began to followed Miranda and Jacob to a better position to assault the site, Tyler and Heimdahl broke off from the formation, and crept to a nearby section of rocks that overlooked the area. Neither of them did much talking as they trekked through the shin-high snow, instead using hand signals when they were required.
"Figures, I'm the one that gets the honor of wallowing in the snow." Tyler muttered to himself as he came to a stop, rifle clutched across his armored chest. According to the positions he had received on the shared HUD, he was supposed set up towards the edge of the outcropping, in the event that he needed to provide covering fire. There was no sort of cover here, so Tyler had to get onto his stomach in a prone position, meaning that he had to rest upon snow. Even with his body suit on, that was supposed to keep his temperature regulated regardless of weather conditions, he felt cold, a shudder wracking his body. He knew it was most likely a psychological thing, but it was still uncomfortable.
He glanced over at the sniper, who had dropped into a prone position onto a bare, relatively snow-and-ice free rock. The man was already setting up, first deploying his bipod before he fiddled with the scope of his hand-held railgun. A lot had changed with sniper missions since Tyler's day in the Corp. No longer were designated spotters necessary for operations. Instead, the technology in Heimdahl's helmet did the heavy lifting. The rest was up to the man pulling the trigger. And one thing was for certain, Heimdahl was a sniper for a reason.
The days of becoming Company shooter by means of shooting chickens in a barnyard, were well and truly over.
Attempting to take his mind off the cold, Tyler tilted his head back toward the crash site that they were about to assault. From where he laid, he could see the crash site a bit better. The place was crawling with baddies, many of whom were casually wielding rifles or one kind or another as they patrolled the area at a leisurely pace. They knew there was a battle going on, okay, but they still seemed content with it being over there, and not over here. Others had their weapons on their sides, or slung over their backs, as they moved slowly with scanners in hand. Those guys would likely be the secondary targets, with the armed and ready people getting called primary.
"Thirty seconds out, stand by. Coming in from the west side" Tyler heard Jacob broadcast into his ear as he shifted his attention back to the crash site. The marine-turned-Cerberus agent sighed and adjusted his rifle, bracing it against his shoulder from where he laid. He peered down the scope he had affixed to his rifle, glancing at the rangefinder that was synced to his helmet. The nearest enemy soldier was a respectable four-hundred meters out.
He knew he would likely be mostly just spraying and praying, but at the very least he could provide suppressive firing. He knew from his tours that a bullet hitting a stone next to you, was more intimidating than the one actually hitting you. Weird, but true.
Tyler's lips moved without sound as he silently counted down the thirty seconds till air support arrived. His breathing was slow and steady, at least for now, as he tried to remain calm. There was something about this that was different than before, but he couldn't seem to place it in his mind. Maybe it was the fact that he was about to fight other sentient beings, or something like that. It was something he didn't want to think about too much, since this was, by no means, the time to psych himself out.
Glancing up, he could now make out a pair of sleek aircraft moving through the air at quick pace. They were two Mantis gunships, from what he could tell. "This is Epsilon One and Two to M-6, we are on station"
"Epsilon, this is Freya, we are requesting airstrikes on the enemy positions, painting targets now" Tyler heard the cool voice of Miranda reply. With the help of his heads-up-display, Tyler was able to see the 'painted' targets, which just so happened to be clusters of Broker soldiers and positions that looked to be fortified with deployable barriers. Poor fucks, those barriers ain't gonna help ya.
"Fire mission confirmed" was the reply they received. A half-second later – it seemed – the gunships practically materialized above them. With thin atmosphere, and ice storms perpetually in effect, there had been no warning of their arrival other than the radio. "Missiles away, stand by."
With that, missiles leapt from the gunships, streaking towards the icy Alcheran surface below. On the ground, the Broker Soldiers had only scant moments to react to the sudden appearance of the gunships, and as a result found themselves blown apart by the rockets by the dozens. Their cries of surprise and screams of pain were lost to the thin atmosphere of the Alcheran surface.
"Guns!-Guns!-Guns!"
Those who were not killed by the missiles were subsequently targeted by the chain-guns of the gunships. And while the Broker's soldiers wore Bulwark armor equipped with strong personal shields – which had rather mysteriously disappeared from the Systems Alliance's armories – they were no match for the rapid firepower the gunships dished out. Apparently, there is such a thing as 'enough Dakka'.
The few who remained after the onslaught quickly fell back, or sought cover within the wreckage of the Normandy.
"Everyone move in and secure the area." Jacob ordered rather calmly over the radio as he emerged from behind his cover, rifle in hands. There was no hesitation on the commandos' parts as they emerged from cover quickly, maintaining a loose formation as they approached the crash site, weapons at the ready. Holding up the rear, as expected, were Liara and Scorch.
From his position on the rocky outcropping further back, Tyler watched intently, eyes scanning the enemy held parts of the wreckage. With the help of his helmet's binoculars, he could easily see enemy soldiers moving through the wreckage, attempting to tend to the wounded on the ground, and even fire back in some cases. However, they weren't having much luck between the gunships dealing death overhead, and Heimdahl firing his sniper rifle ever few seconds, dragging thin trails of vaporized methane through the air. Whenever a slug flew from the powerful gun, a barrier was shattered, or a helmet cracked and snapped back, leaving its owner dead in the snow.
With a sigh, Tyler shifted his stomach against the snow beneath him, burying himself a little deeper into the cold. He was becoming used to it, it seemed, and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad. He was unable to do much more than watch, at the moment, since his Phaeston didn't have the reach that Heimdahl's rifle did. But watching wasn't the worst thing in the world, the young Cerberus operative supposed.
Above the Alcheran surface, where battle continued to wage between Broker forces and Cerberus ODSTs, was a single, heavily modified Kodiak shuttle. For starters, it was longer than most, built to accommodate more passengers and equipment than the original design. It was also equipped with an array of weapons, ranging from missile pods and a chain gun capable of spitting out a few thousand rounds a minute, to an electronic warfare suite. In short, it was Broker standard. The most important part of this warfare suite, was that it provided the shuttle the opportunity to not only cloak optically, but drop off the radar as well. Unless someone shot a LADAR at it, they could even be looking out the window, and not see it coming.
Inside, the transport was just as well equipped. There were terminals built in that could be operated by either people or an onboard VI if it need be. While this design was unique in itself, it was clear to the trained eye that this was supposed to act as, and was, a command shuttle. An alternate design of this shuttle was often used to deploy special operations forces loyal to the Shadow Broker.
Watching the battle unfold from there, a rather intimidating, yellow-painted Turian with enough scars to impress the most rugged Krogan, stood in contemplative silence.
He was a seasoned combat veteran, having served in the Turian Blackwatch for close to a decade, and had performed more classified missions than he could care to keep track of. He had been hired on by the Broker during his time in the Watch to act as an informant. However, after a rather nasty accident on Tuchanka, he had been medicinally discharged, much to the shame of his family, though they hadn't told him so openly.
The leg injuries that he had received on the Krogan homeworld, which his doctors had swore up and down would never heal right, had been fixed with the help of some Salarian doctor kept on the Broker's payroll. His name was Larvius Terrian, and he owed a lot to his employer, his dignity included. Not only could he walk properly again, but he could command people as well, and even enter the fray himself if the situation required it.
"Commander," A lithe, former Asari commando said. She was – as was most Asari these days – clad in a hardsuit that was perturbingly less effective than the modified Bulwark armor Larvius wore. On screen, a live-feed – courtesy of a drone the shuttle had deployed earlier – was being shown. It was focused on the Normandy crash site, where fighting had seemingly broken out. "The company we deployed to the crash site is under assault, and are reporting heavily casualties. They're requesting immediate support."
The Turian commander gave a low, throaty growl that would have caused lesser sentients to flinch or scamper away. But those in the shuttle knew him well enough to not be overly affected by it.
"What's the status of our reserves?" He asked, stalking over to the Asari's terminal. He had a good idea of what they were, but wanted confirmation anyways.
"Not much, I'm afraid." The purple woman replied, the green tattoos around her lips tightening as she pursed her lips. "Enemy forces, unfortunately, still have air superiority. All of our air assets are either tied up in skirmishes, or have been destroyed altogether. The majority of our forces may not be able to retreat from the planet at this rate." She informed him, before going on. "We only have a few ground assets that we can send to support them, a few infantry squads..." She paused with a slight frown, reading over the display twice before she continued. "...and two heavy assault units.'" She finished, glancing over her shoulder at the Turian commander.
For a brief moment, Larvius wore a look of pensiveness, something that didn't happen often. Normally, he was a creature of action, who had a mind capable making up tactics as he went along. Finally, he sighed and shook his head. "Have the assault units reinforce the crash site, and send the remaining reserve forces as well. That body is worth more than any amount of soldiers we expend to retrieve it."
"Sir." She replied without missing a beat. With deft movements, she and the other two Asari tasked with operating the terminals began dispatching orders to the reserve units yet unspent.
However, for a brief moment her fingers paused, as she glanced toward a screen showing another battle. This one was happening at the base camp, where the Shadow Army had originally set up when they had first landed on the icy rock. A tight-lipped frown creased her four-hundred year old lips. She could see that between the Cerberus ODSTs and other ground troops, their own forces were on the ropes. And by diverting reinforcements away, she was signing their death certificates.
But, that was the nature of command, she supposed, as she dispatched the last of her orders.
"Keep pushing! We've got them on the run!" Jacob shouted into the team-comms, firing his Avenger at the retreating Bone-white forces before them.
Valkyrie heard his orders as she moved forward to the next piece of available cover, which just so happened to be a section of the ship that had been torn away during the crash, and mangled so badly that she couldn't tell where exactly it had originally belonged. She was slightly crouched as she went, head pulled down and rifle tucked across her chest, with the hopes of making herself a smaller target. Doing this worked like a charm, her shields flickering for only a scant moment during the entirety of the five-second dash, her shields never dropping below ninety-percent. And even if they had dropped, she'd still have her barriers.
Immediately, she moved alongside the thick, jagged piece of hull that had become her cover until she came to the edge of it; thus getting a better angle to shoot at the enemy from. She braced her rifle against her shoulder, an M-96 Mattock with a number of modifications that had replaced the M-15 Vindicator she had lost on a mission a few months prior. Tentatively, she began to lean to the side, with the intent of leaning out and-
Bump-bump-bump-bump-bump-bump-bump
-rapidly flung herself back into cover. Alchera's atmosphere might dull sounds to the degree of being in low orbit in an oxygen-filled atmosphere, but the thumping sounds still came through. The vibrations through the "air" alone were more than enough.
"Heads up, enemies forces have deployed a heavy machinegun!" Barked Blue Tooth into her ear, and not a moment too soon, as the air around her was suddenly filled with bullets. The frozen ground around her exploded as the enemy rounds passed by her helplessly. Had she been out in the open, her armor wouldn't have managed to sustain much of that. Everything had it's limits, after all, even the best armor money could acquire.
"Shouldn't it be heads down?" She heard Loki chime in. The man needed an extra moment to speak, as his heavy breathing could be heard over the encrypted channel. It didn't surprise her: Loki had never been the fittest soldier on the team, which he made up for by being a top-notch hacker, even by Salarian standards.
"Shut ye fooking trap and shoot ye damn rifle already!" Kraken grunted in annoyance as leaned out of cover, his assault rifle bucking in his hands as he did his best to deal death with little success. The enemy had, apparently, managed to reorganize to some extent and had found a good place to bunker down and set up, even as the two Cerberus gunships above continued to fire at the Shadow Army's positions.
"Anybody have a good angle on them?" Freya asked over the channel. Well, demanded, was more like it, really, not that Valkyrie blamed the officer. Freya had a lot of shit on her plate at the best of times. At times like these, though, it was a miracle the Aussie hadn't pulled a gun on herself already.
"Negative, I don't have a shot, not a good one anyways." Loki replied as he peered over his piece of cover. He shot a glance toward Kraken, who was ten or so meters to his left, taking refuge within part of the Normandy, or what was left of her anyway. They had both been tasked with sticking together, and clearing out the ship as they went. "Neither does Kraken."
"I'm pinned down here, not safe for me to try." Valkyrie said as she tried to peek around her cover. The gears in her mind were already as she tried to work out a plan. She hated being stuck like this, and unable to do anything about it, at least for the moment. This wasn't the first time she regretted bypassing the opportunity of making Vanguard with the Cerberus 'Hades' program, but really, there was little she could do as it was now. Whomever had decided Adepts should not be taught how to perform Blue-shifting, deserved a blue-shift up his or her ass.
"This is Heimdahl, I might have a shot. Standby..." She heard the team sniper say over the radio. She nodded and braced herself even tighter against the piece of cover, rifle ready to go, as she waited for the shot to come. Heimdahl was up there with Tyr somewhere, lying in cover while keeping a watch. The part of Valkyrie's mentality that was labelled 'Anna' wondered if the part of Tyr that was Tyler, was doing okay. Just, friendly concern, seeing how he apparently was about the only one of them capable of matching whatever the fuck Fisher was.
"Shot out," Heimdahl's words snapped her from the softer mindset. There was a pause, where she idly wondered if Heimdahl was going to fire again, when she heard him speak again. "Hostile eliminated."
"Come on, let's get moving. We need to get to the rallying point." She heard Jacob order. She didn't respond, instead vaulting out of cover as she coated herself in a biotic barrier powerful enough to stop the eventual bullet-rain…for some seconds, at least.
Immediately, a human bedecked in bone-white, red-arrowed Bulwark armor were in her sights. At one time, she might have had a problem ending a human's life, but not anymore. Cerberus had drilled that out of her back when she got the first set of implants and augmentations.
This, was just a target.
She didn't even hesitate, and pulled the trigger three times, sending burst after burst his way his way. Thanks to the proton-film coating her slugs, each bullet bypassed his shield altogether. The first two bursts hit him in the upper chest, knocking him back, and the third went clean through his neck and pierced his helmet, ending him with a violent, visible hiss of escaping oxygen and spraying blood from the cracked helmet.
Wasn't personal, wasn't because she hated the man. It was just his job to kill her, and her job to kill him: she came out on top.
Meanwhile, Tyler was perched up on the outcropping, rifle butt resting between his shoulder and the ground as he gazed upon the battlefield before him, his brown eyes observing what happened with the help of his helmet's built-in binoculars. He had half a mind to try out the 'panoramic vision' that he had used on Noveria and the Citadel, and get a better view of things than he already had, but eventually decided that an active battlefield wasn't the best place to try out a new ability that he knew little of. Since Noveria, he had only used it once, and that had given him a headache, something that he wasn't too keen on repeating. The last time had namely been on the Citadel, right before…Right before I fucked up and shoot Ashley Williams…I still just don't understand…Fisher wasn't in the original-
"Stay vigilant, the battle is not yet over…" A warning voice broke his thoughts, causing Tyler's body to tense up in surprise. Titling his head to look over to his left, the Aspect of War filled his vision, bedecked in armor that would have placed him in Cerberus, and was even wearing a helmet to fit in better with his surroundings though no one could actually see him as far as Tyler was informed. The only difference was Alex's choice of color. While M-6's armor was the dull, metal grey of the alloy used in its production, Alex's armor was colored a striped pattern of brown and Azure, a deeply weird combination that only a colorblind would have used.
"Christo mate...could you do a better job at announcing yourself? You just 'bout gave me a damn heart attack." Tyler grumbled as he glanced at Alex. Ever since they had gotten planetside, the Aspect had remained quite, much to Tyler's relief. The bloke could be helpful at times, and equally annoying at others. Mostly it seemed like he wanted to be an equal mass of both, which was just as annoying, really.
The Aspect of War regarded Tyler blankly for a long moment, before shrugging and casting his gaze out toward the frozen wasteland that was Alchera. Where he was looking at was little more than a vast stretch of frozen rock and ice. "If you wish, I will try and make a better effort at announcing myself, but that is not the point right now, there are bigger things that you should concern yourself with. The Broker is sending reinforcements."
Tyler felt his eyebrows furrow at Alex's words. His tone had been a neutral one, but the former marine sensed a warning undertone was there as well. "I assume I should be perturbed by that?" He inquired, gripping his rifle a bit tighter, only absently worried about crushing the gun between his cybernetically enhanced fingers.
"If you both value your friends' lives as well as your own, then yes." Alex replied without a hint of emotion in his voice. The Aspect was on one knee, one arm casually cast over the joint. Had he been human, he would have been doing this to support himself in the position that he was currently in. As it was, Tyler suspected it was just an effort to appear more human.
The operative's brown eyes widened as he looked at the Aspect, surprise shown behind his helmet. What the hell was this ma-thi-being, talking about?
"See for yourself, tap in into your surroundings." Alex instructed – because that was of course an easy thing for everyone – after reading Tyler's mind, which wasn't creepy at all. "Breathe in and out, focus. Think about your surroundings, become one with Alchera." He continued. God, if it wasn't for the fact that Tyler knew Alex was legit, it would have been an easy assumption to make that they had a New Age nutjob on the team.
Honestly, there were times he'd have preferred that to this.
Tyler's observed Alex with a blank expression, not quite sure where this was going to lead, but he nodded slowly and did as he was told. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaled, and then took in another. Each one felt oddly cold, like the outside temperature was beginning to seep into his suit, though he knew it wasn't happening. Ignoring that, he focused his mind on his surroundings, and the planet beneath him. No longer was he focused on the battle before him, or Heimdahl to his left firing off round after round, scattering ceramics and brain-matter with each shot.
No, his mind found itself tasked with only breathing and 'becoming one' with the planet. And God damned, wasn't that just the single-weirdest notion he'd ever had? Well, except for the whole 'BioWare fucked up, Mass Effect is real!' notion constantly rummaging around in his mind.
It was a lot easier than Tyler thought it would have been, as it turned out. After a few moments of doing this, his vision gained a blue tint to it, and he began to 'see' things differently. He could gaze out for miles now, and see things clear as day. He could see the battle waging between the Cerberus ODST and Broker Forces, so much so that he could make out the expressions that soldiers wore underneath their helmets. Some were grim yet determined, others showing signs of complete fear or a look of success. One particular female ODST got Tyler's eyebrows to raise, as she gnawed on her bottom lip as she shared cover with an allied soldier with a herculean build. He could even sense her desire for said man, which was unsettling for Tyler's own male mentality.
But none of that held his attention for long, as he shifted to something much more… perturbing. He focused on a formation of quickly approaching shuttles, all equipped with light armaments, and some sort of cloaking technology apparently. They were modified Kodiaks for the most part, except for two larger, blockier ones which gave out a rather… negative vibe, that caused worry to spread through Tyler's stomach. There was something in those larger ships that made him uneasy, but alas, he couldn't see into them for one reason or another. Most likely because he could just see far, not see via X-ray vision. Fuck all, I'm not superman or anything…damn…
And as sudden as it had begun, it had ended. Tyler once more found his vision to be normal, and 'within his own body' to put it simply. He blinked and shook his head, his ears pounding with his heart, and the inkling of a headache beginning to form in the front of his head.
"Use that sparingly, the side-effects are increasingly nasty the longer durations you pull off" The Aspect warned. "But that is not the issue at hand. What did you see?"
"I saw…" Tyler paused, still in the process of mulling over what he had just experienced. "A lot of things." He finally said, lips pressed into a tight line. "The Broker is sending in reinforcements, and I've got a bad feeling about it."
Tyler put a finger to his helmet, bringing his comms-piece online; "Ground team, this is overwatch, be advised: We've got hostile dropships coming in hard and fast."
He could hear a lot of gunfire and the occasional grunt over the radio, before a reply finally came. It was Freya; "Acknowledge, any idea how many-"
She never got to finish, as explosions lit up the skies above them. In an instant, the shuttles were upon them, armaments roaring into action as they locked onto the Cerberus gunships, unprepared against the sudden onslaught. Within seconds, both had been destroyed: their shields had been aimed downwards, towards the enemy ground-troops, and as such they'd been undefended against the incoming storm of slugs. As soon as the gunships were plummeting downwards in flames, the shuttles turned their armaments to the purpose of barraging the Cerberus troops below them.
The Broker remnants had gained control of the skies over the Normandy crash site, and the Cerberus operatives were forced into cover or killed. All over the area, burning debris rained down, and shuttles started descending towards the surface.
It had all taken less than twenty seconds.
"Freya? Freya, do you copy?... Valkyrie, do you copy? Anna?! Anyone out there?!" Tyler shouted frantically as he watched the scene before him with contained horror. Already, enemy soldiers were beginning to jump from the newly arrived shuttles. There was quite a number of them, mostly Turian or human, and they were all wearing bulkier armor that reminded Tyler of what Kraken wore.
Even as the reinforcing soldiers started spreading out, exchanging fire with the Cerberus forces on site, Tyler breathed a small sigh of relief when his S-HUD showed all life signs stable, if stressed.
"Oh, this is bad." Aforementioned operative swore into the comms, confirming at least that he was capable of coherent speech. The comment was accompanied by the bulky soldier rising out of cover, his Revenant assault-cannon kicking with each sizable slug pumped out. The first unsuspecting Broker soldier was blown apart, Kraken's proton-rounds making short work of his shields, and thus his torso …must be a mod…I haven't seen that before…
"Suppress them!" Tyler couldn't see where the man was, but he knew where Blue Tooth had to be, what with the resulting explosions tearing apart ground and ice amongst the Broker's soldiers. Suddenly, carrying a grenade-launcher around didn't seem like ridiculous overkill anymore.
"Valkyrie here, alive and kicking-" Tyler could see her this time, pausing her speech as she smacked a Turian into one of the debris-walls with a Kick; "-well, for now anyways." The team medic chuckled, hurrying back into cover as more ammunition was sent her way by express.
Tyler was immensely relieved when he saw her safe, as could be, and heard her voice clear of obvious pain. Of course, he always enjoyed hearing her voice, but that wasn't the point at the moment. "Everyone is alive down here."
"This is Freya, give me a SitRep!" Miranda broadcasted as she pushed herself off the ground as well, coated in a biotic blur that soaked up what incoming fire came her way. She spun and pulled off shots with her Locust, forcing the opposing forces back into cover.
"Be advised, Broker is deploying reinforcements south of your current position, trouble is coming your – oh shit!" Tyler cursed, eyes going wide as he watched the scene unfold to it's extent before him. He idly remembered that there was a saying, or rather a law, called Ferguson's Law. He was fairly sure this counted as following it to the letter.
The blockier transports had been the last to unload their cargo, and what it was happened to be rather chilling, and just slightly terror-inducing.
Jumping down from the hovering vessels, two incredibly large creatures brandished their gear and power for all to see They were dressed in modified armor to fit their huge frames, and were wielding both club-like weapons, and oversized rifles. Instant recognition hit Tyler, and his blood ran cold as they each picked themselves up with their thick, trunk-like arms.
Yagh.
The Shadow Broker had bloody Yagh under his command.
"Be advised, be advised, we have Yagh on the battlefield. Two of them, both heavily armed and armored. Suggest immediate withdrawal from the Yagh." Tyler forced his voice to be coherent, instead of the frightened slur he wanted to. All the videos of Yagh brutality he had seen when he had first arrived in the Mass Effect universe were flashing before his eyes.
Conclusion: Don't get close enough for a hug.
"Shit!" Miranda cursed in reply, her normal, calm tone faltering for a brief moment as she spun around to face the area where the Broker forces were landings. It wasn't hard to miss the large, intimidating forms of the Yagh, who were standing behind the fresh waves of Broker soldiers. "I've got eyes on them. Everyone regroup at Kraken's position. We need to hold them off!" She ordered, weaving through cover. Her SMG was gripped tightly in one hand, and she was encased in a bright blue glow, as her biotics came to life.
"Good, 'cause we couldn't move if we wanted to: they've got us surrounded on all sides." Blue Tooth pointed out as he grunted into the radio, swinging his grenade launcher around to face the oncoming enemy soldiers. He pulled the trigger twice in succession, sending a pair of HE-rounds downrange. The first landed in the center of an enemy squad, killing some, and draining the shields of those who survived. The second landed at the feet of a quickly approaching Yagh. The explosion did little to slow the large, sentient beast down, the creature's heavy armor and natural strength prevailing over the 'meager' bug-bite; "I hate Yagh."
"I'm sure they're just misunderstood." Loki muttered, his voice drained of humor as he blew the head of a Broker-Asari who'd blue-shifted just the wrong distance from the hacker; "Asari, on the other hand, I do not like fighting."
"I can hear you." Liara's cold, frustrated voice reminded them. Tyler cursed to himself as he realized he'd lost track of her and Scorch at some point, and now scanned the field before him and Heimdahl to find them. When a bone white soldier was sent flying, he guessed that must either be the Asari or Miranda, whom he had also lost track of. Damn, this isn't really my day…
"Oi, heavies closing fast!" Kraken grunted out in clear frustration, though none of them actually needed to be reminded of it. The Cerberus commando, bedecked in heavy armor, quickly found himself forced out of cover, lest he wanted to be trampled by a charging Yagh who cared little about the large piece of metal that separated itself and it's much smaller human target.
For a man of his size, Kraken was surprisingly loose-limbed, and managed to stick the landing with ease, rolling for a moment before he popped back onto his feet. As he did so, he spun around and brought his Revenant to bear on the Yagh, firing off a storm of rounds toward the beast, most of which struck home, only to be absorbed by the thick armor and shielding that the simian wore. Goddamn horn-heads.
A moment later, the Yagh was knocked back with a stagger, not by Revenant rounds or grenades, but by the bright-blue, biotic explosions as two warp attacks were combined. What would have reduced a human to a smear, only seemed to affect the Yagh as if he'd merely been punched in the face. Glancing over for a brief moment, Kraken saw that both Miranda and Anna were a light purple, their biotics flaring as they launched ranged attacks and shockwaves at the large creatures. Not wanting to waste his chance, Kraken inhaled and began to run toward his group of compatriots, seeking any cover he could find.
Back at the outcropping, Tyler had begun to pull the trigger again, sending controlled bursts toward the enemy forces with minimal effect. They were within a range where each shot was iffy for his rifle, and did little more than letting them know he was there. He had seen a few make contact, causing enemy shields to flare, but he knew he hadn't dropped anyone yet. Meanwhile, Heimdahl had directed most of his fire toward the Yagh, or enemies equipped with heavier weapons. He seemed somewhat annoyed that the Yagh didn't seem to be overly bothered by his attempts at murdering them, so he ended up changing his aim to the humanoid troops instead.
Tyler shook his head as he watched the second burst in a row fall short, kicking up ice and snow helplessly. He was practically useless here, that much was apparent. Glancing over at the sniper, he spoke through the radio. "Hey Heimdahl, you averse to getting closer? I'm no good at this range." Tyler broadcasted, tapping his Phaeston assault rifle for effect.
The sniper grunted. "Not really, I don't think it matters much now. You can move up if you want, I'm good here." The commando replied as he reached for a new thermal clip. Oh, how he missed the days when he just had to wait for his rifle to cool down, but Cerberus had been first on the – in Tyler's eyes – idiotic wave to replace the integrated heat sinks with disposable thermal clips.
"Move up? I'm thinking more about charging up." Tyler replied with a small grin as he felt power begin to surge through him. He knew that it probably wasn't a good idea, or sign, to feel so zealous about going into battle, and admittedly he was still more than a little afraid whenever he did so, but with the abilities Alex had given him came a certain confidence. Even if it was somewhat misplaced. Or blind.
"Watch yourself, kid. We don't need you any more banged up than you already are." Heimdahl said in a semi-warning tone as he inserted the new clip unceremoniously. He knew that greener soldiers looked at battlefields with more confidence and vigor than experience, and that wasn't something he wanted to see more than he had to, since the results often turned out rather nasty. And messy.
Tyler rose to his feet and gave the sharpshooter a serious nod, understanding to an extent. He knew this was a gamble, at best, and at worst it would see him smeared over the ground. Or blown up. Still, the Yagh had them outgunned, and the Broker forces them outnumbered. This wasn't going to end well if fought conventionally.
"Will do." He muttered in reply, kneeling into a crouch, which felt as if his legs had frozen up. As he did this, he placed his assault rifle on his back. Once he was satisfied, he took a deep breath of air that seemed colder than it probably was, and pushed off, propelling himself off the outcropping.
In any other circumstance, a person would have had to, at the very least, make their way down the rocky outcropping, but Tyler was confident in his cybernetics and armor. As gravity took effect, dragging him back down toward the icy Alcheran surface, Tyler met the sloping hillside with a surreally light boot, then ate the remaining downtour in long strides. Armor in spite, he barely seemed to sink through the snow and ice-covered ground.
The marine grunted as he came to a forced stop, wanting very much to avoid slamming into a jagged piece of hull with scraped, black paint still clinging to it.
"Definitely trying that again…when not in danger of being shot." The last part was mostly just a mutter to himself, as he removed his Phaeston from its magnetic holster. Looking up, he saw that he was a lot closer to the enemy now, and that they had yet to notice his appearance, thanks to his more numerous compatriot commandos whom they were tangling with. Still, it felt implausible that no one had noticed his descend.
If he was going to take advantage of the situation, now was about as good a time as any. Walking off the stinging feeling burning through the back of his shins, Tyler began moving forward, slightly hunched over, making himself a smaller target. Here, there was little in the way of cover, so this was the most he was able to do at the moment.
"This is Tyr, anyone mind if I join the party?" He asked as he found a favorable position to shoot from. It looked like it had once been part of the gunnery, at least from what he remembered in disjointed images and hazy memories, and he crouched behind a large, twisted beam of titanium.
There was a long pause, as both sides traded gunfire, no one really able to much more than shoot at one another or hug what cover they could find. Finally a response came from Freya. "I'll take what I can get, Tyr, just don't do anything stupid!" She replied tersely. And didn't she always?
"The confidence that my peers feel for me is astounding." He muttered to himself as he took aim, a Turian in modified Bulwark armor filling his sights. He breathed in, steadied his aim, and exhaled as he pulled the trigger on full-auto. The rifle bucked against his shoulder as each bullet went off, trails of vaporized methane left in its wake.
The Turian merc's shields flared violently, before failing. The hostile went down, rifle clattering to the side in the ice and snow. That seemed to catch their attention, as a few enemy soldiers whipped around to face the operative. Along with them, one of the two Yagh soldiers turned around to face Tyler, wielding a weapon that – to Tyler – looked suspiciouslymuch like a Krogan grav-hammer.
The large alien beat it's chest a number of times in succession, before charging forward at Tyler without waiting for it's allies to attack. Even in all of the armor it wore, it was incredibly fast, managing to close the distance between itself and the new commando in the blink of an eye. Fuck-!
The grav-hammer swung downwards in a lethal, yet somewhat artistic arch.
But Tyler was faster, his cybernetics and natural instincts kicking in as he launched himself to the side before the beast could get to him. When the hammer impacted the ground, it opened cracks in the frozen rock, pelting rock and ice-pieces everywhere. Tyler grunted and rolled onto his side awkwardly, unable to stick the landing like he'd before. As quick as he went down though, he was back up, firing his rifle as he did so. Round after round struck the simian's armor, shields flaring, but not draining a whole lot like he had hoped.
"You are going to need to get close like Shepard did, especially now. The armor those Yagh wear is stronger than what the average Krogan wears." Tyler hear, but didn't like what Alex cautioned. It took a lot to not groan at the news. He had already gotten too close for comfort by dodging, and now he had to get into knife-fighting range? Lovely.
And how did that even make sense? Get up close with an enemy especially proficient in close quarters? If I didn't know better, I'd say he's out to kill me.
Already, the alien was gearing up for another attack, as it eyed Tyler warily behind its helmet, twirling it's maul-like weapon between its large fingers. Finally, the beast ran forward, weapon ready to take a swing. As this happened, Tyler ran forward to meet the creature, assault rifle chattering. His eyes widened in surprise as he watched it's shields flare, but nothing more. Shit, he'd been pouring slugs into the creature for Lucifer knew how long, and now the bastard's shields had regenerated? That settles it: the Universe hates me.
With a rather undignified yelp, he threw himself backwards in a roll as the hammer came down. Hard. He could feel the ground shake like had a freight-train hammered down in its stead. The Yagh rolled its massive shoulders, shrugging off a high-powered shot from Heimdahl's position before hefting the hammer back up in place. Even for the massive creature, the action was obviously with some strain. Its armored fingers clasped hard around the broad shaft for its weapon as it lifted.
And an idea started taking shape in Tyler's mind, insane as it might be.
The Yagh struck again, cutting off his train of thought sharply enough that Tyler only had microseconds to dodge. Even so, he felt himself suddenly being ripped downwards with the hammer, and slammed into the ground, hard, where he lay dazed on his back.
Shit. What the hell had that been?
Realizing that yes, he still had his legs, Tyler jumped to his feet with a shot of adrenaline, rolling near the ground to avoid the sweeping strike the hammer was sent on, before pounding the frozen ground with the force of a twenty kilos Ferrous-slug. The force of the impact staggered his roll, and Tyler came to an awkward stand, ready to dodge like a rabbit to either side.
That was when he realized the Phaeston was no longer in his hands. It must have been knocked out when he was dazed and stunned, and Tyler scanned the ground desperately in the few seconds the Yagh would afford him. He found it again, sort of, when he glanced at the alien's hammer: His rifle had been crumbled and bent like a piece of tinfoil, sticking to the hammer like it was glued there.
"Oh fuck…" he whispered as the hammer came down again, coming so close that he felt it scraping against his armored back. As he leapt for cover, Tyler took a long, uncomfortably deep breath and forced the cybernetics into a somewhat state of overdrive. His vision took on the faintest of azure tints, and he felt adrenaline pouring into every vein.
"Time to bring you down a size, bastard." Tyler growled with renewed vigor. He didn't go for a gun next, but his omnitool. With a flick of the wrist, an orange omniblade unfolded. The marine ran forward, deftly dodging under a wide-arched swing that the alien tried smearing him with, and struck at it's armored leg.
Either he'd found a weak spot, or the blade was far more efficient than first assumed. The creature jerked violently, as the blade cut deep, going through the armor and natural hide underneath. Even as sharp and hot as the blade was, it was meant for humanoid armor, and only penetrated a few inches beyond the hide. Before it could stop itself, the oversized squid-mouth seized up, dropping to one knee.
A grin formed on Tyler's lips as he saw his chance. Moving with cybernetic speed, he got to the other leg and took another swipe, earning the same effect. The large creature was on it's knees within moments, awkwardly shuffling on its kneecaps, as it howled in pain, Tyler assumed anyways. It was hard to tell with nothing but body-language to go from.
Still, if there had ever been one thing John Grissom would have said about the Yagh – maybe except from 'Ah! Kill them with fire!' – it would have been that the six-eyed fucks were damnably tough. Even down to one leg, the brutish fighter still had the presence of mind to attempt smearing its opponent over the frozen ground.
Another thing Grissom might have pondered on, had he ever been in that situation, would be just how awkward swinging a maul was when you were kneeling. As a result, the strike hammered with familiar force into the ground, but wider off Tyler than the man had hoped. Dared hoping for, anyway.
Fueled by a mixture of cybernetics, combat-drugs and spirit-jumbo, Tyler reignited the omniblade and jumped onto the back of the grav-hammer's head. The Yagh yanked its weapon back up from the ground, but by then the human on it had already crossed the distance between hammerhead and hands, and delivered a searing stab to the Simian's right hand. The flash-forced carbon-blade scorched through the plasteel-gauntlet, spearing the fleshy hand underneath. Oxygen instantly began hissing from the opening, blood sizzling from a weapon too slow for shields to handle.
Tyr continued, grabbing a hold of the Yagh's broad shoulders, even as the alien swatted at him with its intact hand. Tyler swung the searing blade at the offending hand, scraping against the flexible palm. With a speed betraying its size as well as wounds, the Yagh's speared hand flew up, grabbing Tyler's legs in a crushing grip.
Even with the cybernetics heightening his pain-threshold, Tyler was close to passing out with the nauseating pain shooting through his lower body. Sweat coated his face in a glistening film, and bile threatened to spill out into his helmet. With its healthy hand, the Yagh reached behind its back and withdrew a long, serrated blade of dark metal. Tyler had no idea what it was, and was only barely conscious of his desire not to find out where it was going.
So he jabbed forward, omniblade ignited, and feinted at the Yagh's healthy hand, instead meaning to stab the Yagh through its visor. The knife was withdrawn, just a little, but as a result, the grip around his legs worsened, and he threw up in his helmet. He was definitely sure he'd broken something down there, though he feared finding out just what.
Having satisfied itself that the human in his grip was incapacitated, the Yagh brute brought his knife forward again, intent on gutting the soldier like a Parnacian herring.
"Hey! Shit-for-brains!" a new voice shouted. Tyler was only just aware that it was through his own helmet he heard the voice, not from the air outside. He couldn't really see much, only a dizzy blur, but there was something blue and glowing coming his way.
Suddenly, the grip around his legs went slack, and a spray of something wet and chunky pelted his armor's front as he fell. Instead of hitting the ground though, a weird, buzzing sensation had him weightlessly lowered down. For a blissful moment, when there was no pressure on his legs, Tyler believed his regenerative abilities had fixed it all.
Then he touched the ground with his heel, and the world became first pain, then darkness.
"-administered. He should be waking up any minute now." Tyler could hear…someone, a woman, state as he felt a throbbing sensation in his waist.
"Shit, about damn time." Another voice complained.
"Need to keep him here…Shit, what a mess." The first voice sighed, and Tyler was fairly sure it was one of the team's women. The filters made them hard to tell apart sometimes.
"Isn't dead. That's something." The second voice argued with a shrug to his voice, and Tyler realized with a start that he could see again. The darkness had faded, leaving him lying on his back on a slightly sloped hillside.
"…could I…get a painkiller…?" he asked hoarsely, slowly looking around as he spoke. Heimdahl being here meant he was back up in the sniper-nest, which meant someone had dragged him here, which again meant there had been time to do just that. So, had they won?
"Already pumped you full. Sorry, Tyler, you'll have to wait." The first voice added in. Tyler recognized it somewhat easier now, when she spoke loud and clear enough to differentiate the subtleties of voices. Valkyrie was closing assorted compartments across her armor, angular visors focusing on him with an uncomfortably obvious intensity.
"Hey how come you get to call me 'Tyler' out here, but I don't get to call-"
"Okay then: Tyr, what the hell were you thinking?!" she snapped at him, a sudden, unrestrained anger in her voice. Anger he wasn't used to, not from her. Frankly, it hurt a bit more than he thought it would. Her expression was unreadable behind her helmet, though her voice gave him a good idea of what she looked like: a rictus of fury, most likely; "You charged aYagh in full-frontal assault! Have you any idea just how fucking moronic that was?! What, did you wanna see if you could regenerate a pulped torso? Let me tell you right away: you can't. So, what the hell. were. you. thinking?"
Even though he knew he should have felt at least a bit intimidated right now, he didn't. The only thing he felt was embarrassment that he had made her worry unnecessarily on his behalf. The part of his mind that was ignoring both the shame and lingering pain, was noting just how alluring her voice sounded with hints of frustration and even genuine concern under the clear and present anger, not to mention the way her armor didn't do much to hide her figure, kudos for being an Adept and all.
Damn, whatever drugs she'd pumped into him, he liked them.
"I...wasn't thinking?" He answered quietly, gingerly slipping his pistol back into its holster, pain from his legs causing him to tense for a moment. That was a new area to him that he hadn't felt moments earlier. Sheesh, the oversized – now dead – insect-face had done a real number on him.
"No, no you weren't." Valkyrie sighed in obvious exasperation; "The minute we're back on the Phoenix, we're taking a look at just how fucked you are, got it? Now stay there, you're not really in any shape to walk, and I don't want you going off and dying." She said with the shake of the head, eyes intent as she looked up at him behind her mask, arms crossed.
"…right." He muttered, not oblivious to the frustration in her voice. Pretty as she was, Tyler had first-hand experience with Valkyrie's less-than pacifistic moments. He didn't feel tempted to cause a similar reaction here, and just focused on forming words that wouldn't cause his nausea to spiral back up; "…sorry."
Fortunately for Tyler and his squad-mates though, they didn't have to worry about fighting onward, as intervention of the not-divine variety appeared overhead. The warcry of Trudy Chacon was how it was announced;
"Heads up, boys and girls! The cavalry is here!" She whooped as she brought her gunship into the fray, its two turrets coming alive as they targeted the enemy gunships who had yet to leave the battlespace.
"Go for guns, take out the heavy hitters!" Tyler heard a pilot order over the radio. Looking up he saw an assortment of Mantis and WASP gunships overhead, some with weapons chattering as they engaged the Shadow Broker's aircraft, while others came in for a landing. All around them, enemy soldiers were dropping like flies, the remaining Yagh included, between a mix of gunships fire and the soldiers who leapt out of the transports and into the fray.
As he dragged himself to the hill-top with a groan, Tyler went for his heavy pistol, the only thing on him that he had loaded at the moment besides his shotgun, which he didn't feel too confident about using at the moment. It was clear that he didn't need his weapon out, as Cerberus troopers were beginning to swarm the field. The radio was alive with barking squad-leaders.
"1st squad with the doctor, secure the objective! The extraction team will be here as soon as the LZ is clear!"
"3rd and 5th squad, secure the perimeter, double time!"
It was, in a way, odd. Tyler had been working with Cerberus now for well over two months, long enough to start familiarizing himself with aspects of the organization, team-members included. And yet, he felt weird about connecting the sight of Cerberus gunships and soldiers with relief.
Maybe it was just the images from what Cerberus had become in the third installment. He wasn't sure. As long as it didn't interfere with missions, he no intention of revealing anything from the games he hadn't already let slip. It was more than likely to be wrong at this point, Fisher's existence being the best example, and therefore it would just do more harm than good.
Damn, he was getting all introspective all of a sudden. Must be the drugs…
Still, as he watched more and more soldiers spill out of the grounding gunships, dozens held within each of the armored boxes, he felt…good. Forgetting the fact that he was currently unable to even sit without half his bodyweight being painkillers, he actually felt like he'd been part of accomplishing something damn good.
So, what did you think? Leave a review to let me know, its always awesome to get them.