Jacob Taylor, former Alliance Marine and ex-Cerberus operative, stood shirtless before the mirror in his bathroom flexing his stomach over and over again. His face muddled into a scowl with each effort he made and the sigh that escaped his lips was overheard by his fiancé and mother-to-be, Dr. Brynn Cole.
"What are you doing, Jacob?" she asked happily as she swept in from the bedroom beyond. She was dressed in a lavish, bright summer dress and looked positively lovely. She was putting on an earring as she entered.
"Trying to find my abs," Jacob professed. "I think all this inaction has made me soft." He slapped his still firm belly. The former Marine was in peak physical condition, although he may not have been at the same level he enjoyed while aboard the Normandy. He turned to face the love of his life and beamed at the sight of her stomach, bulging with the life of their unborn child.
"That's just nonsense," she scolded. She leaned over and gave Jacob a peck on the cheek. "Now get dressed. Some of our guests are already arriving."
"You really think we can do this?" Jacob asked, suddenly sounding very serious.
"Do what? It's just a baby shower," Brynn replied with a chuckle.
"No. I mean—live a normal life. I don't think either of us knows what that is," he explained with a frown. It might have been true. Jacob had spent his entire life in service to some organization or another. If it wasn't the Marines or the Corsairs then it was Cerberus. Even when he left the Illusive Man's cadre he'd pledged himself to protect like-minded defectors. Conflict had been almost a constant in his life since he turned eighteen.
"I suppose we'll have to learn together then," Brynn replied smoothly. She finished putting on her other earring. Her words were always calming. It was her temperament that balanced Jacob out—her ability to reassure him of the future. He was supposed to be the protector, but sometimes he felt she was the one doing all the saving. "Now get dressed, Marine!"
Jacob smiled in the wake of Brynn's exit. That was something he did a lot more of these days. And he had every reason to.
He threw on a t-shirt and stepped into the bedroom he and Brynn shared. Decorating it was a pet project of hers and it was rich and vivid with white colors from the massive bed to the immaculate carpet and lavish mahogany furniture pieces. Grand windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling looked out upon an amazing view of sandy white beaches and an oceanic expanse that stretched on to the horizon. The curtains fluttered in the breeze as the smell of salt and sea wafted in- invigorating Jacob. He could hear the call of gulls well beyond the confines of his house and took a moment to reflect on a life that seemed close to perfection. It had only been six months since the Reapers were defeated. Much of the world was still in ruin, but he had somehow found happiness.
The war was over. The struggle had ended. And now he had the opportunity to build the perfect life with a woman he loved deeply.
Brynn and Jacob had maintained nominal contact with their fellow ex-Cerberus contacts, many of whom they'd invited to today's festivities. Aside from Jacob's former comrades-in-arms they didn't have much in the way of friends. But now the two of them were laboring to rebuild the shattered community they had adopted as their home. Though much of it lay in disarray, a dedicated collection of carpenters, plumbers, electricians and gracious helpers were rebuilding people's homes and shops one by one.
To that end Brynn and Jacob had pitched in and as time passed they had ingratiated themselves more and more with the locals. Of course none of them knew the true nature of their past. Cerberus was well-known to even the most rural town-dwellers on Earth. Their crimes at Sanctuary on Eden Prime had been well publicized and the organization had been painted as the most prominent terrorist organization in the 22nd century. To the average person there was no gray area regarding Cerberus. It was an evil organization and every member deserved a speedy trial and an even speedier execution.
Tales of the Illusive Man's indoctrination were rampant. What remained of the media today often broadcast stories that speculated on who the Illusive Man really was. No one could really say with any certainty where he'd come from or who he was, but one thing everyone agreed on… he was a monster. Jacob decided it was best he and Brynn keep their Cerberus affiliation a secret. To their neighbors Brynn was a researcher that had done contract work for the Alliance and Jacob was a former Marine that helped with the war effort off-world. No one seemed to question them further. Everyone was simply happy the war was over and anxious to move on with their lives.
None of that really mattered anyway. That life was behind them both and only a bright future lay ahead.
Like a bad nightmare the alarming staccato of gunfire echoed jarringly from somewhere inside his home.
Jacob froze for only a moment. His training kicked in almost immediately. He shook off the momentary lapse and sought out the location. With stealthy urgency he made his way toward the source in order to learn what had happened. What in the world is going on?
He crept down the hallway of the newly purchased home, his footsteps silent as they fell upon the thick gray carpet. He heard the muffled sounds of voices not far ahead—well below where he was now. They sounded angry, demanding something that no one was coming forward with.
The lengthy hallway opened up to a bannister that looked down into the living room below. It was a feature Brynn had loved about the house. Now Jacob would be using for a little recon.
He edged closer to the corner of the wall and then peaked down below into the rectangular confines of his living room. There were half a dozen armed men in heavy and medium armor types milling around his sofas. They carried mil-spec weapons, but wore no military designation that Jacob could recognize. His face contorted into a glower as more demands erupted from the intruders. They had corralled most of the guests that had arrived for the baby shower.
Jacob quietly trotted back toward his bedroom and made his way to a locked safe in the closet. After punching a few numbers on the keypad the safe's lock popped and Jacob eased open the door. Inside an M-5 Phalanx heavy pistol sat idly. Jacob reached in to grab hold and just as his fingers wrapped around the grip he felt an ominous twitch in the base of his spine, as if he could feel a gun being leveled on him.
"Not so fast handsome," a female said through the muffled, mechanical sound of a breather mask. "Slowly release the weapon and back away from the safe."
Jacob grit his teeth in frustration, but did as he was commanded.
"Put your hands up," the voice ordered. "And turn around."
Again Jacob acquiesced to the demand. He turned to see the feminine contour of an operative in sleek, black armor. Her face was hidden behind the mask, eyes illuminated in an eerie blue light—a common design feature on many armor types.
"What have you got there?" she asked teasingly. Jacob stepped aside and the woman moved to retrieve the pistol. "Heavily modified M-5 Phalanx custom. I like it. Think I'll keep it." She placed the handgun on her hip while keeping her M-25 Hornet submachine gun oriented on Jacob. His initial urge was to resist, but then he remembered he wasn't wearing armor and had no kinetic barriers to protect him from her mass accelerated slugs.
"Who are you?" he seethed.
"That's not something you need to concern yourself with. We're here for someone and when we find him we'll be out of your hair. So just stay calm and don't try to be a hero. I know you pulled some wild shit with that Commander Shepard guy, but I'm telling you, if you try any of that now a lot of innocent people are going to get hurt. Understand?" The woman's voice was unwavering. It was clear she was a professional.
"Yeah, got it."
"Good, then get downstairs with the others."
Jacob was lined up beside all of his house guests down in the living room. Several of the similarly equipped intruders were lurking nearby, but a trio of men guarded the group closely. They were especially watchful of Jacob- well aware of his history and experience.
"Listen up people," a man spoke up in what sounded like an Australian accent. "I'm not here to cause you any trouble, but trouble is what you'll get if I don't get what I want." His face was hidden behind a variation of the popular Death Mask helmet worn by many Alliance Special Operators. Jacob noticed an emblem etched onto the right side of the chest plate on his armor. It was a skull and from its flanks great wings sprouted open as if an angel were taking flight.
The man paced up and down the line of captured guests. He surveyed each of them with what appeared to be careful suspicion. "I want to know where Dr. Gavin Archer is."
Gavin Archer? What did he want with Archer? Jacob's eyes narrowed on the man, who appeared to be the leader of the little troop. He wondered if Archer had arrived yet. He hadn't seen any of the guests come in and he wasn't about to look down the line and potentially betray where the doctor was.
"Anyone?" the armored man questioned to no one in particular. "No takers, eh? We are a quiet bunch, yes? I expect as much from Cerberus types. Can't imagine you'd do well with a group like that if you couldn't keep your mouth shut. Still, you're only hurting each other by staying quiet."
Lazily, the man wrenched his M-77 Paladin from its place on his hip. The pistol ratcheted out to its full potential. He casually leveled it on a target and a single heavy shot rang out. The guests cowered and Jacob whirled around to see that the armored trooper had executed one of the guests—a female scientist name Cary—a woman Jacob had personally helped save. Her body crumpled into a limp mass as the life evaporated from her body. The wall behind where she stood had been painted with her blood and brain matter.
Some of the guests were sobbing.
In that moment Jacob's anger flared and unconsciously his hand curled into a fist. A vapor-like purple haze erupted from his hand as he attempted to yank the man toward him with a hasty biotic pull.
The man was shielded and the attack only caused him to stumble a few steps. Jacob felt the butt stock of a rifle crack him across the back of the head. He fell to the floor but caught himself somewhat with braced hands. The initial attack was followed up by several swift kicks to his midsection. He let out a hoarse cry and curled up in defense from any further blows. There were a myriad of kicks and strikes. Jacob closed his eyes tightly.
Brynn stepped forward calling out. "Stop it! Leave him be!"
A swift backhand from the armored female that captured Jacob silenced her protests.
"Now, now," the Australian man spoke up. "This is hardly what I wanted. I really abhor violence. So I'll ask again—where is Dr. Gavin Archer?"
Silence hung over the assembled group. The armed men and women glanced from face to face, studying each individual intently. Only the sound of Jacob coughing could be heard.
"How many times will I have to ask?" The M-77 Paladin's barrel fixated on another target.
Dr. Brynn Cole recoiled with a gasp at the sight of barrel pointed her way. Her hands instinctively grasped at her womb in an impossible attempt to shield her unborn child. "Please…"
"Here! Here damn you!" A normally cultured voice called out in a frenzied tone. Dr. Gavin Archer, the brilliant synthetic intelligence expert, stepped forward. "I'm right here. Please, don't hurt her. Don't hurt anyone else."
"That wasn't so hard was it?" the troop leader asked wryly. "If you'd only had a crisis of conscience moments before maybe you could have saved her." He gestured to Cary's limp corpse.
"Take him." Gun thugs nearby seized Dr. Archer and headed out of the house.
"Pick up in five," the female told the leader. Her hand was curled into a fist and her suit's menacing blue eyes gazed at Brynn.
"Good," he acknowledged and then addressed the crowd. "Now that we have what we came for we'll get out of your hair. Enjoy the rest of your party." He rendered a lavish, theatrical bow and made his way for the exit.
Two of the troops watched the array of guests like hawks as the others left. Once the main group had gone the remaining sentinels also withdrew. The living room—and house—were now empty of any armed threats. Frantic chatter immediately began between the assembled civilians.
Brynn knelt beside Jacob and he felt the tender presence of her slender fingers upon his face. "Are you all right?" There was real concern in her voice as her eyes looked over him.
"Yeah," Jacob coughed. He sat up with some difficulty. "I'm good."
One guest- an old friend- lay dead and another had been kidnapped. But Jacob felt immense relief. Brynn was safe and so was his unborn baby. That feeling gave way to guilt, but he couldn't help but reassure his fiancée with a smile.
"Thank God," Brynn let out a heavy exhale. Their visitors stood in shock at what had transpired. Cary lay dead beside the sofa and no one knew what to say. "What did they want with Gavin?"
Jacob took a deep breath and winced at the pain he felt in his ribs. He clamored to his feet and made his way to Cary's lifeless body. He leaned down and saw that her eyes were still open. The appearance of shock on her face was sickening. He'd done his best to forget the more gruesome events of his past. He never relished the sight of the slain, be it friend or foe. He ran his hand across her face and closed her lids.
"I don't know… But I'm going to find out."