Chapter Four: Ghosts of Paradise
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Sky watched Tuchanka's atmosphere recede into the distance as the small scouting vessel sped upwards toward the stars. Creasing a strand of long, silky black hair behind her ears, she stretched the tightness out of her synth-weave outfit and sat back down in the pilot's seat, the automated systems setting a course that she could fly in her sleep. She sighed, let her head press back into the leather back of the head rest.
From off to one side, in the navigator's chair, another woman in a similar uniform swerved towards her. Veda was older than Sky and lacked her exotic, youthful features- her short-cropped grey hair gave her an air of seniority. But as anyone in the newly-formed Grey Ops Division knew, looks were deceiving.
"I don't know what you're so worried about. We found him, against the odds."
Sky steepled her hands beneath her chin, staring into the screen. "I know. It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
The analytics monitor clipped onto the nav display next to her beeped and spat out a series of numbers as if to prove her point.
"Our data's off." Sky compared two monitors, side by side. Orange text flooded the screen as algorithms churned. "We know exactly when he went through the portal, but look- he doesn't come out until five minutes later. There's a delay."
Veda watched the flow of data, failing to see her point. "So? That just means it's a more complicated process than we initially thought. The fact that we've compiled this much information already is astounding."
"That doesn't explain the gap though. We know now that everything Obscura has built in the Dreamworks Project is quantum-based… given what we know about their technology, there shouldn't be any delays when a subject finds a warp marker and gets pulled out."
She watched it again. A frowned formed on the senior Grey Ops officer's lips. "Any ideas what's causing it?"
Sky leaned back and flipped off the screens, switching over to manual control and easing out of Tuchanka's thinning stratosphere. As the ship nimbly flew over the terminator zone the starcrest of the shrouded sun bombarded them with radiation, igniting the dim cockpit with brilliant red light.
"A few, actually. A quantum network like that should have an AI running it, potentially unshackled. If he was somehow held and spoke with it before teleporting into the real world, he might know something we don't. A missing piece. It could put us one step closer to finding them."
Veda chuckled as she admired the view, then turned back to her own display. "It's possible. But finding Obscura is about as likely as Cerberus finding you, agent Nozomi," she said. Hidden admiration lined her voice.
Sky flinched at the jest though it wasn't meant to sting. Memories of a past life flickered through her mind, vivid, succinct. Like it all just happened yesterday.
"Don't remind me."
"You know we can't go after him, though. Or his friends. Not yet."
"I know. They're the entirety of Obscura's third wave, but they can't keep an eye on them forever. The moment they're not watching, we'll be there."
Veda nodded. "We're lucky we even got this far. This op was a total shot in the dark."
"Find a shadow organization that doesn't exist. Who woulda thought we'd find them in three weeks?"
"Not I," she conceded. "It's times like these I wish Shepard was still around."
Sky paused, wondered how much she should say. She'd had infinite resources once. The knowledge of a galaxy at her fingertips, information that could start and end wars with nothing but a whisper. She still had contacts out there, far beyond the Division. And very recently a little bird had told her something she'd suspected all along.
"Shepard's got bigger fish to fry right now. We couldn't get to him if we tried… trust me when I say that."
"You still think he's alive, don't you?" Veda asked.
"I know he is. Something happened. He's with Cerberus now."
Veda's eyes squinted, darkened as Sky steered the ship through space. "What? How do you know? The last official Alliance report said the Normandy got ripped apart by a geth ambush."
Sky felt her usually well-controlled emotions bubble up to the surface. She fought it back, staying professional. "A… an old friend told me. I'll explain later."
"I believe you but… wow. To say I didn't see that coming is an understatement. Cerberus..."
"I wasn't expecting it either," she said darkly, then decided to change the subject. "How's our man doing?"
Veda hit another screen, then another. "Good. The last scan indicated he was coming out of shock around the time we touched off. Vitals are totally stable. Two bands of krogan were estimated to converge near his position within a couple hours."
"He can handle it."
"Hopefully. He's pretty cute, I mean... the algorithmic composite image of him is at least. Dare I say he even looks like your type."
Sky chuckled. Veda had become a fast friend in the last few months, but there was plenty she didn't know about the young operative.
"Not bad, but yeah. I don't date," she said dryly. Not anymore.
"Suit yourself," Veda replied as they neared the mass effect relay. "If all goes well we'll be able to come back and check his progress in a week. If he's still alive, that is."
"I have a good feeling about him."
Veda nodded, relegating her screens back to show navigational output only. The data flickered and disappeared.
"Then let's go find the rest."
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By the time I got out of the cave what I saw in front of me stopped me cold.
The smoke-chugging machinations had dug a labyrinth of trenches into the arid dirt, makeshift bulkheads had been set up by krogan toting engineering equipment. The fighting had reached its peak. Bodies were littered everywhere, yellow-orange fluid covered the scorched battlefield. I stood there, totally exposed- a free headshot for any number of the sharpshooters aiming down at our position from far away. And yet I stood untouched amidst the cacophony of death.
I almost felt like I was going into shock again, though I resisted… then something tapped against my still-naked foot.
Beep! Beep! The sound pulled reality back to me. Oh shit…
"GET DOWN."
The voice bellowed from behind, sweeping me off the ground like a seedling in the wind. A blur of color and motion filled my gaze as I was wrapped up in the deadly armored embrace, feeling like I was being hugged by a metal bear. Whatever had rolled to my feet exploded with impressive force. I felt the searing heat behind me. The wind was all but knocked from my lungs as my unseen guardian threw me to the dirt with a thud, avoiding crushing me as he too fell to the ground.
I landed and rolled a few meters, slamming down on my back facing the darkening sky, wheezing. Gasping desperately for air I leaned up, taking stock of my position- I was behind a flimsy cover setup next to my krogan compatriot. If he hadn't been there I would be dead. Very dead. Still stunned, I watched him fight for a moment. He was scarred and menacing like the others but slightly smaller in build, younger. This is exactly why I didn't join the military. Finally getting over myself, I stood up and pressed my back to cover.
With my rusted-out rifle clutched to my chest and the armored straps digging into my flesh, I poked my head out to reconnoiter the field. Trench warfare, everywhere. Defensive positions, frontlines, and an impossible kill-zone separating the space between the two armies, where krogan initiated charges into enemy lines. The bodies piled there. Stray shots flew everywhere.
I used the light from the nearby vehicle floodlights to locate the closest enemies in the twilight. Twenty yards, give or take, and lightly defended. Thirty of them at most. Black armor ominously reflected back as they noticed me and fired.
Enemy gunshots plinked all around me while I weathered the barrage, shaking. Other krogan on my side drew their fire. I peeked up again and a round hit me square in the chest, denting my armor and throwing me back and to the floor. Next time I got up, I stayed behind cover.
That's when the feeling hit me. The surge of adrenaline. The high of battle. Clarity. Fear and shock melted away, my senses ultra-heightened. Aiming up out from a narrow space between bulkheads, I wrapped my finger around the trigger and squeezed.
Click.
I looked like an idiot as I stood there without a magazine in my gun. I scrambled to reload.
"HAH. Stupid human. You should have stayed in your cave," a krogan shouted from behind me. It sounded like Varduk, but I couldn't be sure.
Probably should have. It took me a few minutes but I didn't let it or my situation discourage me, and finally I reloaded the high tech piece of junk. I eased the rifle to press up to the coziest spot on my shoulder- aimed it at the nearest enemy krogan and pulled the trigger again. A bright blue muzzle flash warmed my face; the kickback was incredible, not at all the 'laser guns' I was expecting. It could be anything- fancy bullets, superheated metal, plasma. Peering down the dirty sights proved useless when the recoil made it too hard to hit anything anyway. But I immersed myself in the action- acting instead of reacting. Focusing on my breathing. Fluidity of motion, and being the calm in the chaos. Something like a Jedi. Of course I couldn't take my own advice, but as I fired potshot after potshot at the enemy line I felt myself come alive. A hyper-conscious state where a potent mix of dread and excitement kept me alive… and very aware of anything that moved. Although it was totally out of place, a smile crept across my lips. I realized I was finally getting what I wanted, the adventure I craved, no, needed. My life hung in the balance. Changing by the second, but it didn't matter.
Existence was simply too short not to experience something like this.
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One of the smaller vehicles blew up. It claimed a few friendly krogan, but I was alive, and at this point that was all I wanted.
After ten minutes of heavy fighting I was still stationed at the same thick bulkhead, shooting poorly executed bursts at the enemy cover line. The vorcha were too hard to hit; the krogan too hard to kill. I drew a good amount of fire with my antics though, and it was only a matter of time until I got burnt for it… for now, we were pushing them back, if only marginally.
Something plinked off the metal pillar next to me. I ignored it and kept firing.
Beep! Beep! I turned my head only to see the familiar oblong shaped device roll by me with its ominous red blink.
You've got to be fucking kidding me…
I didn't think it through- there wasn't time. I dove onto the grenade like something out of a bad movie. With a couple of frantic grabs catching nothing but dirt I finally hefted it in my hands and, using every last ounce of strength, I heaved it at the enemy line only a hundred feet away.
Too curious for my own good, I poked my head up to watch a sizeable explosion conflagrate and vanish in the wake of a bunch of frantic yelling. I… I hit one of their vehicles! Not too shabby.
Bear Grylls didn't have shit on this.
I used this false notion of momentum to keep up the fight, despite my asthma flaring up something fierce. The vehicle had been destroyed- my first kill. Emboldened, I moved up another trench and closer to the front line. As I ran I heard something whistling through the air.
A huge explosion- just behind me to my right- blew a massive crater into the ground. The concussive blast threw me reeling off of a bulkhead and into a group of krogan allies face down, covered head to toe in dirt. I clutched my body. No life-threatening injuries. I don't feel any pain at all. Anything; my adrenaline must be surging.
One of the Clanless stood me up on my feet with ease, like a pup to a fully grown lion. Shaking off the shellshock I aimed back down the sights of my rifle only to see something that made my stomach drop: an enemy krogan, illuminated by the floodlights of another vehicle, dropped his weapon and entered into a frenzy that went far beyond anger. Rage. He was already ravaged with bullet holes, his flesh mangled and dripping orange fluid down his huge frame. Any man worth his salt would be dead a hundred times over.
The krogan charged. Something I never wanted to see in my entire life.
I did what any logical person would do and broke ranks as other krogan joined the charge- a thickly armored forearm barred my way as soon as I turned around.
"No. Fight!" I looked up to see it was the one who shielded me from the blast at the start of the fight, armed with slightly darker armor than the rest and a very long rifle; a scout.
Without much choice but to turn around and steady myself, I shot with wild inaccuracy at the krogan storming the forefront. Recoil wracked my hands, body, murdered the inside of my shoulder. The krogan took anything that was thrown at it.
"Send that doomed one to the void! CONCENTRATE FIRE!" Someone in the front commanded. It must have been the leader but, in the chaos, I hadn't seen him yet.
Ear-shattering cannon shots go off simultaneously, bearing down on this berserking lizard creature-
It wasn't enough. He barreled through the smoke and primed a grenade in each hand with a frenzy of violence. What in god's name is this thing doing? Before I saw him reach our side I was struck by a projectile in my shoulder pauldron- it knocked me backwards and down where I rolled into one of the trenches and hit the bottom hard. I definitely felt that one.
The awful symphony of war and discord was muffled now. I was safe for the meantime, in what looked like a fallback point behind the front lines with nothing but a spare weapon or two and the occasional krogan corpse. Moonlight from recently emerged twin moons guide my way awhile I start moving again, wheezing. My asthma was on fire so I utilized my deep breathing techniques and didn't stop. I grabbed a new weapon; an assault rifle that looked similar to my last but was much newer looking. The moment my hand wrapped around the rubbered hilt it inexplicably felt right. Lighter, sleek but powerful, befitting of my personality, not like that mattered. I climbed newly-armed out of the trench and saw a small group of krogan set up at the far side. One waved me over. I made my way there only to realize it was Garrmarek, who had probably been watching me flounder this entire time. I took position and crouched behind their battered metal cover.
Much to my dismay crazy lizard-man was still alive downrange, using a giant slab of metal as a shield while beating others with it. The Scout Leader seemed to be tracking him with his oversized scope rifle.
"It is a wonder your fleshiness has persisted through such glorious krogan bloodshed!"
"I'm trying."
"You honor your word," he continued, intent on his target. "It is more than most of your species can handle!" Click. Boooom. BOOOOOOM! A series of well placed shots put down the rabid krogan once and for all. Garrmarek made a strange growling sound that pitched upwards.
"I've been itching to put a hole through that Battle Master's skull for over twenty-three cycles now."
"A fair kill," the krogan beside him retorted. "They will break ranks soon."
And they did. Small groups of black-armored krogan began ceding from the pack and made a hasty retreat, still taking potshots at our larger force. Tension knotted in my stomach began to slowly unravel as the last remaining enemies reluctantly pull rank out towards the refuse-littered wasteland.
The fighting dies down. Survivors stand up.