Every now and then, young recruits may have high ideals of glorified victory. They may fantasize about storming into dangerous disaster areas to deliver the coup de grace in a high stakes fight. They may think on images filled with glory of heart pounding rescue missions, clutching a comrade and pulling them from the fiery jaws of death and destruction.
Harrvok and Lucas wondered how many might have considered stumbling through dark and muddy caverns filled with carnivorous animals and plants.
Just when the group was about to lose hope again they noticed that the cavern walls seem to be widening. The light that had always been in front of them was starting to grow brighter. Lucas, always taking point, let his sharp eyed optical implants zoom in ahead. He wasn't sure to believe what they were telling him.
"Guys...I think we got buildings up ahead." Lucas sputtered.
"Wait- what!?" Chroso demanded in shock.
"I kid you not, I think there are buildings up ahead in the caves. They look like triangular step pyramids or something, at least from what I can see." the special forces ranger
"More of this former civilization stuff?" Harrvok asked, sounding more and more agitated.
"You have a better explanation?" Chroso retorted.
"Hrmph, I'm feeling less and less sure about this." Harrvok grumbled.
"'Sure?' That's lightyears better than what I'm feeling, Turian. Can you imagine what Eulias here feels like?" Chroso shot.
"Enough. Come on people, focus. The sooner we locate Siera, the sooner we can get the heck out of dodge." Lucas scolded.
Another wail hit their ears.
--
Shanata thought she was light headed moments ago. Her skull practically felt weightless now and the pain had dulled a long time back. She no longer felt herself. Life and its details had become blurry or faded altogether. Her commander was a distant blur, the brilliance of the element zero exhaust nothing more than comforting lights. The Asari was finding peace, she was slowly embracing eternity.
Shanata's cries, something that had troubled her this whole time, was being drowned out by her old mother's lullaby. Such a comforting tune, she had long since forgotten how it went only to remember it now. She was suddenly starting to envy all of her old comrades who had gone this way long ago, the ones that went quickly, dead in an instant. They didn't have to wait for this, the moment the skeletal angel named death politely greets you with his confident grin. Such a charmer he was.
And suddenly, the lights that had been so soothing were gone. They were abruptly replaced by shades of black and red. Besides the lullaby, the only other sound she had been listening to was the slowly quieting whisper of her fading breaths. Now, she heard them becoming more desperate. The lullaby shattered into a thousand noises, the soothing notes were drowned out in a flood of increasing decibels. Her mind, the last of her that was holding out and slowly becoming hypnotized felt as if it got slapped in the face. Something had gone wrong. Was the afterlife not as peaceful as they had told her it would be?
The shades of black and red became more defined. Black became darker, steel gray while red lost its anger. The angel of death lost his features. Out of the devastated and confused cacophony words started to form. She didn't know what to do with them.
And things suddenly became terribly right. The images all became sharp, perhaps not the best, but no longer a blur. Shanata saw that she had mistaken the angels. Apparently, the angel of life wears a head visor and Colossus armor.
--
Julland never saw it coming. He realized that he should of, but the Turian was still taken by surprise. One moment he was expecting impending defeat followed closely by the relief and sting of death. He and Dalora would surely get overwhelmed and then suddenly it was as if the walls behind them sprouted guns and started firing back.
The familiar faces of the Shiloh's marines were suddenly all around him, their assault rifles blaring. The mercenaries, confident until now, suddenly started taking cover or falling back altogether. Dalora, having been in a desperate struggle all along, fell back behind cover and slowly slid down until she sat on the floor. She rested her head in her hands as she let the Asari marines rush forward to cover her.
From his vantage point, Julland could do nothing but watch. He could see Dr. Jima tending to both Filara and Shanata while another Asari marine, presumably versed in medicine, gave her aide. It was suddenly all falling into place. The lone king and pawn on the chessboard were suddenly granted all their companions back.
Julland's serenity was immediately crashed when he saw rounds deflecting off of Jima's kinetic barriers. He turned to quickly spot who was firing the shots. The Turian couldn't have known it at the time but the combatant he spotted was named Dorian McDowell. All what Julland did know was that upon spotting the man, his vision immediately turned red.
--
The cave walls slithered up to the building ruins until finally they were scrambling through the crumbling walls and decayed cobblestone streets. All of them had varying degrees of fear and desperation in their eyes. How long would this torture last? How long could that agonized Asari hold on? All of them were dying but only one was mortally so.
"Come on, where the bloody heck is she?" Lucas growled, still clawing desperately to hold onto his cool and concentration.
"We have to be getting close, Lieutenant." Harrvok muttered. Eulias only whimpered.
By now they were following their guts, moths drawn to a beacon of agony. Lucas' gut also told him to forgo the pistol and pull out his rifle. He could use his knife if anything got too close. Eulias and Chroso wondered why their legs continued to take them on the path of the other two soldiers. Every other fiber in their being told them to run the other way. Harrvok could only feel numb, the drive to get the mission accomplish, but a very numb, foreboding feeling freezing in his stomach.
And then they heard whimpers. Feminine ones.
"Hear that? We're getting close." Harrvok announced.
"There's something wrong..." Lucas muttered, realizing where Siera's voice was coming from. They had now reached the foot of the temple and gathered that their fallen comrade was at the very top of the temple.
"Hurry, medic. I don't think we'll have a lot of time." Lucas urged, leading them up the stairs. He barely heard Eulias' fears behind him.
"Where are they? Where did all those animals go? They have to be around here..."
"Just keep your eyes peeled and shoot any that you find." Harrvok barked. They were midway up the temple and by now, they could hear the constant whimpers and moans of Siera. Harrvok wasn't sure anything could cause that much pain. He had not heard the likes of them on the battlefield. They were scarcely at the top when they saw Lucas cast himself onto the platform. They only heard his observation and it already made their hearts sink.
"...Oh my God..."
--
Dorian McDowell, victor of numerous battles, information cruncher and tactical genius, undefeated even in the face of long odds, knew that a single mistake could cost a whole battle. A single lost battle could cost a commander his life. That was why he had never made a mistake before. Even when he had taken a risk it was a very calculated risk that he made sure still weighed in his favor. Now with his scoped pistol raised and firing, he understood that he had made a mistake. He couldn't quite place it but his mind was racing to figure it out. He should have known that a Council force, possibly a Spectre, could send in backup if the ground team failed.
What he would never have figured out was that his gravest mistake was firing on the most loved and vulnerable member of the Shiloh crew, the Spectre herself.
--
Julland was beyond livid. He felt the fires of hell burn in his chest and send raging flames screaming in his mind. It was one thing to endanger combatants but he would never tolerate the firing upon civilians. Spectre Jima was far from a civilian but then again, he never stopped seeing her as one. She barely had any combat skills. All she knew was to hurl herself at a downed soldier out in the open and drag them someplace safer to operate. That was hardly qualified for any kind of combat.
However, perhaps it was also being dragged, nearly losing his life and also figuring out that the mercenary that was responsible for all of the day's trouble was right there before him. Because of this man he was defending some kind of deadly disease. It was because of this man that he quite nearly lost two marines under his command if he had not already. It was because of this man that he nearly died today. Something devastating had been unleashed in the Turian commander and whatever it was, it was dangerous to get in front of because it simply could not be stopped.
The numerous obstacles and desk terminals did not prove to be a barrier to the warrior as he simply charged over them. The gunfire raging through the air did not stop him or abate his speed. His burnt out shields did not deter him. Even Dorian McDowell's angry rounds did not stop Julland as he stormed straight towards the man. The rounds slamming against heavy armor and in some cases drawing blood would not stop Julland.
The only thing that did finally stop him was Dorian McDowell's broken body lying on the floor, battered and bloodied from repeated strikes from a heavy assault rifle.
When the red mist finally faded, Julland found himself standing over a vaguely familiar body. The remaining mercenaries were either surrendering or dying. There was no retreating at this point. The Asari marines were doing a proficient job in rounding them up and seeing to those who had laid down their arms. Some were already being led away as prisoners. Julland barely registered them as he continued to stare at the broken hull of the one who had caused him and his crew so much misery. He felt a gentle grasp on his arm that begged for his attention.
"Are you all right, Julland? You're wounded." It was Jima. The Quarian was already doing a mental assessment on the Turian commander. His exterior was a surgical nightmare. Shattered armor fragments, blood splatters everywhere, even on his rifle. Some was probably his while some wasn't. She wasn't sure how they were going to cleanly get him out of that armor.
"I-I think for the first time today things are finally going all right." Julland panted.
"All right. Lets get you back on the Shiloh and get you patched up." Jima answered, leading him in the right direction.
"What about Shanata and Filara? Are they all right?" Julland asked. Jima did not answer.