(Chapter 3: A prophecy Begins)
"Ha ha…missed again. I believe you owe me 100 creds lieutenant," Garrus' mandibles twitched into a smile as he held out his hand, waiting for his small payment for winning the wager both him and Vega had going. Vega frowned and looked down from the barricade wall and saw the targeted marauder still standing. Untouched by his sniper fire.
"¡Aye, coño!" Vega huffed. "What about triple or nothin'?" Garrus shook his head, still holding out his hand. "C'mon Vakarian…markets are down, we're not goin' anywhere anytime soon," Vega slyly smiled. "You don't need it now, I mean what're you gonna spend it on? These credits are useless, how 'bout I hold on to'em."
Garrus laughed. "If money is so useless right now, why are you fighting so hard to keep those credits…huh?"Vega snorted. "A wager's, a wager and you lose. Guess your marksmen skills just aren't up to par," He took the rifle from the lieutenant's grasp and aimed down the sights, closing one eye to help focus on the target. He slowly breathe in, then lightly his finger squeezed the trigger. A sudden bang echoed through the air, as the target's head simultaneously ruptured and his body had fallen to the ground. Garrus looked at Vega with a smirk. "Leave the profession to the professionals."
Vega groaned, digging through his pockets. "I swear sometimes it feels like you've came straight from a comic book. Who even says that? Díos scars, your one-liners are awful man," He took a 100 credit chip out his pocket and flicked it at the turian. He caught it.
"No lieutenant, what's awful is your aim," Garrus countered, then pointed down from the barricade. "He wasn't even moving, and you missed-" Vega brow furrowed.
"Hey, you're right scars," he studied the reaper's animals below.
"What?"
"Look at'em they're just…standin' there. Isn't that a bit weird?" He looked back at Garrus. "Shouldn't they be at least moanin' at us? Hell, When we picked up graffiti and her kids-"
"Graffiti?"
"You know, the feisty chick with the tattoos."
"You mean Jack - I don't think she'll like you calling her that."
"Well it's a helluva lot better than doodle or - or scribble or somethin'."
"Doodle…um, scribble?" Vega lowered his head, pitching the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"Her tattoos man, they remind me of writing of some kind, and I thought of graffiti. You know her body is sorta like the wall and her tats are the paint." Garrus' expression twisted more towards confusion at each word that flowed from Vega's explanation of the reasoning of the nickname. Vega knew he wasn't getting through to his buddy, so he waved the whole thing off with a sound of frustration. "The name isn't the point," he finally said. "The point is these things were freakin'eatin' each other before, and screamin' and shit. But now…look at'em."
"Hmm…yeah, you're right," he looked at Vega. "Wait, what are you doing…?"
"I'm goin' down there." Vega started unlatching the ladder that would lead down into the wide open courtyard that was littered with nothing but bits of debris, military vehicles, and corpses. With a handful of cannibals and marauders slowly lurching about. They seemed almost comatose, barley moving at all, not even acknowledging the loud smack against the pavement as the ladder had unlatched and slid down. "Cover me alright."
"Tell me again lieutenant…? What exactly is the plan here?" Garrus watched as Vega began to descend down the ladder. Vega looked back up to him.
"Don't worry scars, I'm just a bit curious."
"Don't you humans have a saying: …curiosity killed the cat."
"Yeah, yeah," Vega reached the bottom. "Just watch my back." Garrus shook his head, but gave him a wave in agreement.
"Okay…" The lieutenant was a bit hesitant at first once his feet had touched the ground. From the top of the barricade the courtyard seemed dead with silence. But now getting closer, the sound of those familiar lurid growls and moans were impossible to go unnoticed. Vega began to carefully approach one of them. A cannibal, a construct of both human and batarian. Its four eyes still gleamed in that shining whitish-blue glow, along with the rest of the small spots embellishing the entirety of its body.
"These bastards are even uglier the closer you get…" Vega cautiously step in closer, unknowingly positioning himself right in between three of them. If it weren't for this strange state they were in, they could had easily ripped him apart before he could even react. But it seemed he was overlooked, like his presence went ignored.
"Only a face a mother could love eh…?" Garrus replied. "So, what's the difference between these guys and the ones trying to rip Jack and her students apart?"
"Don't know…" Vega answered, as he began to lift a finger in the face of the one in front of him. His finger came as near as it could without actually touching the creature's face. He wanted to feel it. Never had he been so close to this enemy without it shooting or lunging at him. He dared himself to just get a bit closer. "I wonder what they feel lik-" before his finger could even graze against the surface of its rutted skin, it snaped to life for the slightest of moments and let out a gurgling howl in annoyance. "Aughh…!" Vega yelled out in unison, startled, falling to his back. He quickly gathered himself to his knees and hurried, crawling back to the base of the ladder. He quickly looked back, but to his surprise it hadn't move an inch. It sat standing in that same spot.
Vaga gasped. "D-did you see that…?!"
"See what?" Garrus looked down from the barricade, at a distraught Vega below who seemed a bit shaken.
"It came at me, almost took my freakin' hand off!" He grabbed his wrist for emphasis. Garrus looked at the cannibal, then back down at his friend.
"You sure…?" he stated doubtfully. "Its not moving now," he knocked his foot against the top of the ladder. "Maybe you should think about climbing out of there…I think you had enough fun for today. Besides this reaper business is getting a bit stranger by the day, we need to inform someone about this. Who knows… maybe this is a good sign." Vega swallowed, still a little stunned.
"Hah…yeah. I think you're right scars."
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It's been a long day for the lieutenant-commander. Even though there wasn't much she could do to help aid with Normandy's current situation, as the engineers and tech team worked nonstop to get the drive core and EDI's mainframe back online. Everyone seemed to have an important job that needed to be done in order to get the ship back up and running again. For Ashley, she couldn't help but feel a bit useless at the moment. Her skills were best suited with an assault rifle in her hands, kicking ass and taking names,she thought. But now, she's been forced to lead again and this is what scares her the most. Especially considering what happened to 212 and the incident on Horizon. She lost her man both times and both times Shepard was there, saving her. He's not here to save her anymore. She only has herself to rely on now. And she wonders, can she actually do it.
She folds her arms and peered inside the dark fish tank in Shepard's cabin that stood right in front of her. Watching the silhouettes of his fish as they danced across the glass within the water. Everything felt like fantasy, nothing really felt real at this moment in time. Her mind was light years away, contemplating on what she could have done to alter the outcome of this war. "Maybe if I were in his place…" Her mind tried so desperately to fix what she believed was fantasy. The last she remembered he was on the citadel as the crucible armed itself and that blast engulfed the skies in red, surrounding the entirety of Normandy.
"He's dead," she finally exhaled, acknowledging the truth she'd witness with both eyes just before FTL kicked in. Her muscles stiffened, as her jaw unconsciously clenched. "I watched the citadel explode with him on it, I could've done- "
The door had opened with a low hiss,halting ash's train of thought. "Ashley…?" Her body had relaxed once more.
"Liara," she responded, without taking an eye off the fish tank, then sighed. "W-what can I do for you," her voice was stagnate in a light murmur, as if she'd still hadn't come to terms with the truth.
"Actually…" Liara began, waltzing into the cabin that was only lit with the ship's emergency lighting. "I came to see if you were okay." Ashley bit down on the inside of her cheek, a bit irritated at the question. Who cared if she was okay, when the greatest soldier this galaxy had ever seen is now dead. His body now rotting away upon space rubble. The thought disgusted her, sending a tiny chill down her spine.
"I'm fine," she lied plainly, as her eyes still wondered about the fish tank. "I just need some time to adjust to everything, y'know."
"Ashley, I know we aren't the closes of friends. But I can understand how you're feeling right now. Anderson and…Shepard-" Ashley turned slightly, her expression was something of disappointment. But not towards the asari, it was more for herself. A feeling of disappointment, from not being able to do anything when the situation needed it most.
"I…I just need some time," Ash closed her eyes and turned, facing the tank again. Liara walked up beside her and placed a hand on Ashley's shoulder, nodding in understanding.
"I get it," she said, then began to leave, but stopped looking back. "Everyone's gathered at the memorial wall. You should take a minute and join us…for Shepard's sake," she began again, walking out the door and letting it close behind her. Ashley felt her fingers immediately dig into her bicep, as her eyes tighten from the swell of tears starting to lightly amass. She told herself she had to be strong for the crew, they needed a leader now and this was no time for wallowing in self pity. She wiped the wetness from her face and inhaled, letting the air pass out through her mouth, calming herself down a little. She let her arms unfold and fall back to her sides then slowly began for the door.
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The lift door opened and there was everyone as Liara said, gathered around that chrome and dark blue titanium plated wall. The list of names of people whom given their lives fighing this war aboard the Normandy rested there, neatly in two small rows on either side of the small alliance logo that rest in the middle. Everyone stared back at Ashley as the doors opened. She looked about at faces, all welted in sadness as each mourned for friends and crew mates together. They all shared the same expression, one she agreed she saw too many times over before. Will it ever end, she thought. She felt a sudden hand upon her shoulder, causing her to slightly flinch.
"You okay?" Joker asked. She saw the light puffiness around his eyes knowing he'd been crying. She nodded.
"I'm holding up…what about you?" He sniffed.
"I-I'm good, but Shepard and Anderson-"
"We had no other choice Joker, they would have agreed with the decision," she couldn't tell if she was reassuring Jeff or herself. "There was…there was nothing any of us could've done differently." When she heard herself again, she knew in fact it was her she wanted to reassure.
"Ashley…" Liara said. Ash looked up and saw Liara holding one of the dark blue titanium slats in her hands. "You should have the honor Ashley," she handed it over to the lieutenant. Ashley peered down at Shepard's entire name engraved onto the dark blue slat with large white printing. Holding it in her hands made the reality of his death so much more real. The feelings she harbored had come back to surface, as tears she fought to hold back suddenly swelled within her eyes again. She slowly approached the wall as she felt everyone give their condolences, placing a hand on her shoulder while she walked pass them.
She stared up at Anderson name that was placed under the alliance insignia, then back down at the one she held in her hands. "You were my commander, a friend, even a mentor. You always put your faith in my judgment, never questioning me, even though sometimes I doubted yours. You were a true leader Shepard…I hope you finally found the peace you so desperately fought for. God bless you, commander Shepard." Ashley exhaled letting her mind go back silent as she placed his slat above the Admiral's.
She pressed it against the board firmly, then let her hands softly slide over the engraving. And in that small moment of solace, the slight rumble of the ship's drive core had hummed to life and she could feel the tremble it created below her feet. The lighting soon followed after, harshly flickering above, then switched on in a steady stream of radiance. Everyone instantly looked up in awe wondering what just happened. Then with complete surprise the intercom had came on, and from the speakers spoke out that familiar monotone voice that couldn't help but to put a hint of a smile on a few faces. Especially Joker's.
"Powering on…all critical systems are now operating at 78% of optimal power…"
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"No, this isn't acceptable," Admiral Hackett slammed a hand onto the table that stood in front of him, causing the image projector installed onto the table's top to glitch as the image projected upon it stalled. He sighed. "Ten months is too long just to fix one relay. We have thousands of soldiers, not to mention countless civilians form each race that are stranded on this planet. We won't be able to sustain for long."
"That's not all," Admiral Koris injected. "Getting every relay back online isn't the important problem," he began. "Even if we did manage to get each relay back online, we'll still need to coordinate them. And the citadel is the only known means of doing that. The citadel has to come first."
"And how do you suppose we do that Koris!" Gerrel exclaimed. "We lack the resources needed to take on a project that size. Plus we have teams scouring through what remains up there now, looking for survivors and supplies. We're just spread out to thin, not to mention the ongoing fire fights down here," he took a breath. "Trying to find enough resources to even think of reconstructing the citadel along with the sol relay is just a massive undertaking."
"Well I wouldn't say it's impossible," A salarian cleared his throat as Gerrel peered up from across the table.
"You have something to add, major Kirrahe…?" Hackett glanced over at the salarian beside him.
"If I may," he said.
"Please," Hackett held out a hand, gesturing the salarian to speak his mind.
"Thank you," he placed both hands behind his back, broadening his stature a bit. "I'm no engineer nor scientist, or anything like that… I'm probably not even in the running of being the most intelligent salarian. But I am a soldier, a soldier who's willing to do anything to see my home world one more time-"
"And what is it you're getting at…?" Gerrel rudely asserted. "We don't have time to pander about. What's your point-"
"Well if you'd decided to shut that trap of yours for one second, I'm sure the pyjak could get to his point," A grumble came from the corner.
"Wrex don't get involved, it's already enough Gerrel isn't willing to listen to anyone else's proposal on our current situation."
"I'm not willing to list-!"
"Don't get involved…!" Wrex shouted, cutting off admiral Gerrel, before he had a chance getting his sentence out his mouth. "If I wasn't mistaken, the krogan are stuck on this smoldering heap just like everyone else. If it wasn't for my people coming to the aid of yours turian, your planet might've been already reduced to nothing but pebbles," he grunted. "You may be primarch of the turians, but you're nothing to the krogan."
"Wrex That's not what I meant…" Victus huffed. "…ugh, Just forget what I said." Wrex let out a grim laugh.
"Already forgotten."
"Please," Hackett said. "Could we just move on. We all are tensed, I know. But we shouldn't be jumping down each other throats like this. The only way we're going to be able to know what comes next is to work together." He looked over at Kirrahe, who waited patiently for the moment he could continue. "Major," Hackett cued him once again. He nodded.
"To put it plainly," Kirrahe explained. "The resources we need are all around us, we just need a plan to go about seizing it."
"You mean the Reapers, no doubt?" asked Koris.
"Correct."
"That's absurd," blurted Gerrel. "We have no idea how dangerous taking apart one of those things may be. Have you seen the fighting beyond the borders that are still going on? Plus factoring in the probability of indoctrination, which is still a huge unknown due to not knowing just how the crucible effected them."
"I agree on all points Admiral," Kirrahe rested both hands onto the table they all stood around. "But what other choice do we have…?"
"The salarian is right." Wrex spoke up. "I have no objections. The krogan will be ready when the time comes." He began out the operations tent, lifting the flap and disappearing behind it as it fell back in place. He walked with his head up, gazing at the strange colors that painted the sky. He never seen the sky over Tuchanka portray so many colors like this. It was a bit interesting to him.
"Hey, pay attention to where you're walking…" Wrex had bumped into someone as he continued on his way, not barely realizing he did so. But still grimaced at the perpetrator.
"What did you say…?" Wrex groaned low with an irritated tone.
"Are you hard of hearing, or are you just incompetent…?"
"Do you know who I am asari-?"
"I could careless if you were the dalatrass' own personal watchdog…" the asari snorted. "Sheerk," she called, walking right by him towards the operations tent, with her lackey in tow, not even giving Wrex a second thought. He growled, grinding his teeth as his hands curled into fists. But he couldn't help but to let it go. Something about her was admirable, feeling somewhat familiar. He felt as it he'd crossed paths with this same asari once before, but couldn't for the life of him come up with any such instances. He looked back over his shoulder one last time with a sneer then finally went along is way.
Aria had whisked the operation tent flap aside as she invited herself in, interrupting the small assembly taking place. The admirals, major, and the rest of the handpicked committee couldn't help but take notice of their latest visitor. "…ah…the council's corpses haven't been cold more than a day and here you old fools are, already scurrying about selecting new heads for our galactic community…hmm…how ambitious," she smiled.
"I don't recall inviting you here Aria," Hackett replied, with a bit of caution, not knowing her angle. Anything could be going through that head of hers and Hackett would rather not be on the receiving end.
"Relax," she assured. "I only came to give out a helping hand," she came closer to the group and placed herself right in the middle of Kirrahe and Hackett, examining the projection on top of the table. "And maybe give a bit of advice, while I'm at it."
"Help…? Advice?" the primarch laughed. "You're just a career criminal, who should've been locked up the moment you had stepped a foot on the citadel. But as usual c-sec was to lazy to do its job right." Aria let out a laugh of her own.
"Please, those morons couldn't catch a fly if it landed in the palm of their hand," she placed her hand upon her chin, then smiled. "I'm not here to talk politics or argue about my career choices, primarch. I'm here because we all have a mutual standing."
"Mutual standing…?" muttered Koris.
"Just like the rest of you I'm stuck here, on this rock," she folded her arms, beginning to explain her proposition. "I would rather like to be sitting back on my station, working. But that's out of the question due to our unfortunate situation. Which brings me to this," she said. "I would like to commit 1000 of my vorcha soldiers to your cause of searching and recovering Reaper tech and resources for the reconstruction of the relay network." Hackett smirked in surprise.
"It seems you've done your homework," he said. How she could've figured out what their direction was before it was announced, was beyond him. Her ability for gathering intel was a bit impressive, he wanted to know how she did it so quickly. But he doubt she would be so eager to share anything of the sort. "Fine," the admiral showed no objection.
"Fine…?" Gerrel repeated. "Do vorcha even have a chain of command? They're vermin. Understanding and obeying orders will be no doubt crucial to the soldiers undertaking this task, and we're going to rely on vorcha?" his hands slammed upon the table, loud as his palms slapped the surface. "Why…? Why should we take her vorcha?"
"Hah…" she spat back. "The only chain of command my vorcha need to acknowledge is me. I'm the beginning and end of that chain, each of them would willingly give their life for any obstacle I place in front of them," she forrowed her brow at his masked glare as that condescending smile of hers inched its way across her face. "Besides, as far as vermin go you're not that far off. Isn't that right, suit rat…"
"Why, you…!" Gerrel unholstered his side arm and aimed it right in her direction from across the table. He was mad with rage from those two words that caused him to become furious and the look of belittlement from Aria did nothing to defuse the situation. Unconsciously it made it worst. "I'll wipe the smugness clear from your expression!"
"Stop this Han'Gerrel…!" Koris took hold of his forearm. "You provoked her first. It's time for all this pettiness and mistrust to end. We must start working together." Gerrel shrugged Koris away, holstering his weapon.
"Fine, you have my support," he hissed back, then stormed out without looking back, pushing pass a recruit coming in. The recruit staggered, but regained his composer.
"Sir," the young human snapped a saluted towards Hackett.
"At ease marine," replied Hackett as the recruit dropped his salute. "What do you have for me?"
"Two officers request your presence, they have new intel pertaining the Reapers." Hackett nodded. The recruit saluted once more with a "Sir." then pivoted, taking his leave.
"We'll pick this back up in another hour or so. This new intel could be fundamental to our plans. Take time to regroup and assess our situation." They all nodded.
"Wait…" Aria halted everyone. "One more thing." Hackett brow arched. "You can take this as advice. Look for an Ex-Cerberus agent named Miranda Lawson. She should be somewhere around this camp, I think her input would be invaluable to your plans."
"Is that so," Hackett said. Aria just smiled then took her leave.
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Shepard's eyes slowly opened to the void of space, nothing but darkness and the small twinkle of light from billions of stars that burned light-years away surrounded him. He looked down at his hands and noticed a bright aura that sheath him. It felt warm and peaceful. "Am I dreaming…? Am I dead?" his voice echoed throughout his mind as he still gazed upon his hands. "This feeling - what is it-" The sound of that loud Reaper siren blared, causing the commander to cup his ears and tighten his eyes shut. The whispers from his past nightmares had returned, piercing the silence, haunting him once more.
When the siren finally ceased his eyes opened and to his shock he found himself back in that forest surround by those oily shadows instead of the bright stars, as soot fell from above. Down to his feet. "Shepard…" he heard a whisper lightly beckon him from behind. The voice was both foreign and familiar, in the sense he hadn't heard it for a very long time. He felt the presences of the shadow come closer. But fought with his entire being not to turn around. The last time he remembered hearing this comforting voice was 16 on Mindoir. But at that time it was being drowned out by the sound of gasping and gurgling from blood blocking her airway.
"Mother…" he finally turned to face the nightmare, and as he did so the flashes of that night on Mindoir played before his eyes. The torture, the rape, and death of his mother. He relived it. He relived every second as that scared little boy who couldn't do anything. He looked up at her, she was exactly as he remembered. That long black curly hair and those bright emerald eyes that mirrors his own. A small smile wanted to crawl about his expression for see her beauty one more time. But it couldn't take hold due to that large scar that was cut into the skin of her throat. "Mother, I-"
Before he could say anything further the shadow disappeared as a child's laughter filled his ears. The shadow slowly became transparent in front of him, and Shepard saw the child he's been chasing within his dreams for so long. He appeared right behind the figment of his mother as she began to disappear. The sight of the boy angered him, his fist clenched with rage and he charged erratically biotics flaring. He caught the boy by the throat and slammed him against the tree behind him, the kid's head smashed against the hard wooden surface. He trembled with fear as Shepard tighten his grasp around his neck wanting to pull the life right from his frail body.
"You…" Shepard grunted.
"No, he is not the one you want," A child's voice spoke from behind the commander. Shepard peered over his shoulder and saw the ghostly shell of the boy he held within his hand. "I am the catalyst," he pointed at the boy Shepard strangled. "Would you really hurt what you fight so hard to protect, commander Shepard…?"
A/N: Thanks guys for reading this. I sorry to those of you who have been waiting around for this one, but I was doing a lot of fleshing out of this story than really writing this chapter. I'm making sure not to write myself into a corner like I've done with previous stories and couldn't finish them. So as always I hoped you enjoyed and if you have any questions or see something that just didn't look right while reading, feel free to comment about it or P.M. me. Thank you.
Moses Out!