Chapter 117 - We Face Our Enemy Together
"Admiral the geth flank is slowly beginning to collapse," Hackett hears the report from one of his aides, having already seen the evidence of it on the large interface before him, nodding absent-mindedly at Lieutenant-Commander Takashima.
"I see it," he barks gruffly. Did I intentionally send the geth where the fighting is the thickest, sacrificing them to divert the Reapers away from the Citadel? "Order the salarians and the quarians to move in and support them." The plan hadn't even worked. The Reapers had retaliated to the geth incursion, but they hadn't withdrawn any ships from the vicinity of the Citadel.
"Sir... with all due respect, they don't have the kind of firepower to make a difference," Takashima replies, looking at him oddly.
At first, Hackett feels outraged at the impertinence of his subordinate, but it does not last long. She is right. I cannot keep protecting the Alliance fleets and sacrifice our allies instead. Unless we all pitch in, we're not going to last long enough. "Deploy the Sixth Fleet to geth support," he finally gives the order. "We need to break through, we need that distraction to work!"
"Sixth Fleet moving in to aid the geth," Takashima replies, having sent the orders.
And now we only have the turians left to protect the Crucible, Hackett thinks grimly, staring at the battle grid, small cluster of ships floating well away from the main battle, the turian cruisers and frigates forming a tight defensive formation around their precious escort. At least the Reapers have not caught up to just what they are protecting. Now we only need to clear a path through to the Citadel and pray that Hammer can do their part...
"Hammer squads, get ready for deployment! I repeat, Hammer squads, get ready!" the Blue Suns team leader is shouting and Miranda reacts instinctively, the first one to throw herself into the shuttle, followed by a group of grizzled mercs, mostly human and turian. The Terminus Fleets have been asked to provide a number of ground forces, and Miranda had immediately put her name forward, feeling useless cooped up on the ship, her skill with biotics and field aid going to waste.
Securing a spot on a Blue Suns vessel had been easy enough. Darner Vosque owed her more than a few favors, but she hadn't even had to call in a single one of them, the man shrewd enough to realize what an asset she could be to his forces, happily inviting her to fly with the mercenary fleet, and now granting her request to accompany his people groundside, knowing that Miranda's biotics could make a hell of a difference.
It had been difficult to leave Oriana back on Discovery, the capital of Horizon, despite knowing that currently it was one of the safest places in the galaxy, now that most of the Reapers had swarmed to the Sol System. It won't remain safe for long unless we prevail in this final battle, she constantly reminds herself, remembering the tears on her sister's face when they had hugged each other fiercely before parting. It wasn't the last time we saw each other, despite what you thought, Ori, despite what I saw in your fear-filled eyes. I am coming back. I promise.
They are swiftly approaching the devastated remains of London, Miranda trying to remember when was the last time she had visited the once magnificent metropolis. I think it has been almost two years. I came here to recruit Dr. Carlyle for Project Lazarus. We went out for dinner at that wonderful restaurant on Piccadilly's. Not much left of it now...
One of the younger Blue Suns mercs is not taking well the stress and anxiety of this almost certainly suicide mission, he looks pale and nauseous, and when the shuttle starts to swivel around as it is being fired upon by the Reaper forces, he fails to stop himself from throwing up on the floor, much to the ridicule of his more experienced comrades. Miranda allows herself only a small smirk, as her eyes slide across the rest of the team, her being the only female in the group. The turians treat her with complete indifference, while the humans still occasionally leer in her direction, even after she had smeared two of them against the wall back on the ship and stuck the heel of her boot into the third man's crotch. Really makes me wonder why I once was such an advocate for humanity. I'm not doing any of this for these scum. I'm not doing this all for myself. I want to help save the galaxy just for one person... just for you, Ori.
The flight to the FOB is a little bumpy, but otherwise uneventful, aside from having to dodge the occasional harvester and avoiding the ravager cannon fire, but the Reapers haven't truly caught on to what's happening groundside, which explains why the six surviving shuttles arrive at the FOB site mostly intact. Still, their casualties incurred while taking out the Hades cannons, tallying a little under 50%, simply reaffirm Shepard's fears about heading into a bloodbath of terrible proportions.
Cortez and Vega land their respective shuttles almost simultaneously, but Morgan is the first to leave the transport, sticking her tongue out at the grumbling Garrus, the turian cursing his defeat. All as one they pour out of the shuttles and head into the relative safety of the heavily fortified base, now all that's left to them is to wait until the rest of the Hammer forces land. Shepard is relieved to see that all her friends have made it, the Normandy crew look in good shape, Kirrahe also giving her a nod as he leads a small team of salarian specialists to safety, Lieutenant Kurin together with Grunt and remains of the Aralakh Company bringing up the rear.
Inside, they are met by a small welcoming committee, and Shepard fights the tears from forming in her eyes as she shakes hands with Admiral Anderson, then throwing all modesty and decorum aside, allowing herself to share a brief embrace with her old comrade-in-arms. "Damn it, David, you've lost a few dozen pounds, I barely recognize you!" she exclaims, feeling overwhelmed, happy to see Anderson again, even knowing that soon they both will be staring death in the face.
"You're a sight for sore eyes, Shepard," Anderson smiles at her, but the tender expression is quickly wiped away as he introduces his two assistants. Major Coats is a grim looking man who could play in zombie slasher movies without requiring any makeup. His pronounced British accent makes Morgan stare hard at Anderson, dubious at the admiral's earlier statement that he was born in London, certain that he has probably meant London, Ohio. Lastly, Commander Johnson is a thin, wiry blonde with an ugly scar on her left cheek, narrowly missing the pale green eye, the chief of the resistance engineering corps offering them a curt greeting.
"Now that the heavy air defenses have been dealt with, the Hammer forces have begun their landing," Anderson says. "Of course, while six shuttles could slip by without attracting much attention, getting several hundred transports through is an entirely different matter. The Reapers are sending swarms of harvesters to interrupt our shuttles and they are doing all they can to decimate the Hammer before our people can land."
"Most of the resistance is holed up here in the FOB, though we still maintain several dozen outposts across the city," Johnson tells them, the woman wincing when the nearby radio chimes in with a report about heavy Reaper forces sweeping across several zones, many outposts reporting heavy casualties, Kensington with the depressing 100% KIA.
"The fact that you have been able to survive here this long, cut off from the rest of the galaxy, is nothing short of miraculous," Morgan remarks, shaking her head in wonder and admiration.
"It wasn't so bad before they started to work on that blasted Citadel relay," Anderson shrugs. "Though, yes, it has been touch and go since day one, really. We could avoid them while they focused on the major centers, but now they have tipped our hand and forced this confrontation. You won't believe how many good men and women we have lost while setting up this base, sending out recon teams... it's been hell. Fortunately with soldiers like Coats and Johnson, and also knowing you'd bring help... well, we managed to hold on."
"Well, if you hadn't held on, we'd be pretty much fucked," Morgan says grimly. "No foothold groundside, and we could have kissed our plan goodbye."
"Agreed, the Admiral's being modest," Major Coats nods. "He's the reason any of us are still alive."
"How about we wait with handing out medals until we've actually done what we're supposed to do? We've only just about started on this task," Anderson shakes his head. "And if anyone here deserves a medal, it's you, Shepard. I know you hated to leave Earth, but just look at what you accomplished. Asari, turians, krogan, salarians, geth, quarians and more... and while Hackett and myself are leading this final charge, we know that they all follow us only because of you, only because of what you've done."
"Geez, David, don't make me blush now," Morgan feels a little embarrassed, also hearing the loud cheers and applause behind her as the advanced Hammer forces stand surrounding them.
"We have set up a Command Center in one of the buildings up ahead," Anderson says. "We have a plan for the upcoming attack, but we need to refine it depending on how much of the Hammer reach the FOB. It will be some time before they all arrive, so everyone take a breather, see what you can do to fortify the base, prepare yourselves for what comes ahead. Shepard, I'll need you and the rest of the squad leaders at the Command Center in thirty minutes."
"Roger that, Anderson, sir," Shepard salutes, watching the Admiral together with Coats and Johnson striding away purposefully. "Alright, people, break it up!" she turns around to shout at the others. "No sense standing around here, you'll only turn into a bundle of nerves! Find yourselves something meaningful to do, alright?" Eventually, everyone does as they are told, even Liara, brushing closely past her and she reaches out to catch her lover's arm briefly. "I'll come find you soon, I promise," she whispers, watching Liara nod and smile lightly.
The only ones who have lingered a little behind everyone are Kurin and Grunt, the asari first to speak, amusement in her eyes. "Grunt here thinks you owe him something," she chuckles, the krogan next to her giving a low growl as he stares at Shepard.
"Owe... something? God... you don't mean that hug I dodged back at the Hades cannon?" Morgan groans, mentally bracing herself. "Geez, you're going to crush me before the Reapers have a chance, won't you?"
Grunt gives a good natured roar and cheerfully crushes her against his chest, as Morgan holds her breath, desperately praying for her ribcage to endure this display of 'affection'. "Oh, and mom, I hope you approve of my girlfriend," he then growls, pointing at the asari.
"I thought something was up with that," Morgan says, looking at Kurin. "Well, she seems trustworthy enough. But Lieutenant, you are aware that Grunt isn't technically even a year old? I can't even begin to describe how wrong that sounds. And you're probably breaking several Galactic laws here..."
"People who bring that up, usually end up becoming small, wet spots on the ground," Grunt replies with that nasty little chuckle of his.
"Well, you two seem happy enough together, so... you have my blessing, kids," Morgan chuckles, even knowing that Kurin probably has at least three hundred years on her.
"The first time I saw her charging one of those banshees, I knew it was love," Grunt states, giving the asari a fond, approving look.
"Yes, I thought he would approve of that," Kurin smiles, then turning towards Grunt. "Why don't you join your pals, Grunt, I'll catch up with you in a moment," she says, the krogan strolling away, surprisingly obedient. Kurin immediately leans in closer to whisper to Shepard. "I have to admit, I know what you mean by saying he's only recently left the breeding pod. When we meld, his mind is just... well, there's a lot that feels like a blank slate, and it's a little disconcerting."
"Figured. Doesn't that take a lot of enjoyment out of it?" Morgan asks, curious.
"It's just... different. It's like being a sculptor, creating something beautiful out of a shapeless lump of clay... through our melds, I can mold him in so many ways," Kurin explains. "And don't worry, Shepard, I will not abuse this power," she adds, noticing Morgan's worried expression. "I am sharing my memories, experiences and accumulated knowledge, teaching him what little bits of wisdom I have accumulated over the years and tempering his violent urges through the bond."
"Well, doesn't look like he's going to start hugging Reapers, so looks like you're doing a damn good job, Kurin. But, I have to ask... what's the upside for you?" Shepard inquires.
"Grunt is just a great guy to hang out with, really. We both like to shoot bad guys, party hard and drink lots of ryncol," Kurin shrugs. "And, well... I've come to enjoy the private moments between us, awkward as they are. I was skeptical at first when Aethyta suggested that we asari start bonding more with the krogan, but... wow, the old girl might be onto something here!"
"I think the mere fact that you are still capable of walking is a scientific wonder," Morgan quips irreverently.
"I should have expected that comment," Kurin lets out a deep sigh. "I've had a human lover a decade or so ago. Seriously, it's all about penetration for your people, isn't it? Fortunately, not every species shares your disgusting mating habits, Commander."
"Err... uh, yeah, maybe that's enough general knowledge for one day," Morgan blushes, then apologizing and excusing herself as Kurin leaves to rejoin the krogan in a sprightly step. Talk about an unlikely couple. Gods, I hope they make it. Even... even if know that most of those here will no longer be with us in mere hours...
"Goddess, Rila, I don't know what to do!" Falere is panicking, tears streaming down her face as she stands in the middle of the room, wringing her hands. "They never taught us anything like this back at the monastery!"
"Yes... I am starting to realize that they never taught us anything that would help us survive in the outside world," Rila rolls her eyes, sitting on her knees next to a prone asari body, holding a cloth dabbed in medi-gel pressed against a deep, ugly wound in the other asari's chest. "Or that would help us save others..."
"Is she even still alive?" Falere sobs, watching Rila take Tevos' limp hand, feeling for the pulse and eventually finding it, frighteningly weak as it is. "Oh, goddess, why did she had to do that! Aria will be... oh, I don't even want to think what happens if Tevos dies, it's horrible!"
"I think she was trying to protect us from the creature that tried to get in here... husk, was it?" Rila ventures.
"Yes, but she is just so horrible at fighting!" Falere exclaims. "We might have stood a better chance with our biotics, weak as they are! When that monster plunged its claws through her chest... oh, I can't bear to think about it!"
"This isn't the time for hysterics, sister," Rila quietly reprimands her younger sibling. "Tevos is alive, but I'm not sure for how long, unless we can figure out a way to help her. Can we still go on the extranet?"
"No... most of the power is down, and there is some strange jamming... everything is almost completely dark outside," Falere sobs. "Tevos said that the station's arms have been closed after those Reaper creatures attacked... goddess, Rila, this is it, isn't it?"
"Will you stop that? Someone will come to save us, I'm sure. Aria will bring Commander Shepard, you'll see," Rila tries to answer confidently, even if she herself feels anything but reassured. At least this particular safe apartment secured by Aria is in a very remote location of the Tayseri Ward and not a few people wander into the area, and Rila quietly hopes that the Reapers will ignore it for a while as well, at least until some form of aid arrives. "Falere, can you check if maybe some of the datapads here have something on treating injuries?" a thought eventually occurs to the eldest of the Ardat-Yakshi sisters.
"Oh... I don't think so, Rila, but I'll check, give me a moment," Falere replies, hastily rushing to check some of the datapad filled shelves. "We can't let her die, Rila..." she mutters, busy searching. "We just can't..."
Staring through the port window of one of the science vessels accompanying the Crucible, Kasumi Goto is unable to stop her heart from skipping and jumping with angry nervousness, even if she has tried about dozen different forms of meditation to calm herself down. Damn it, I promised myself that I wouldn't get involved in something like this again after the Collector base, and yet here I am. Kasumi Goto, you got suckered into another suicide mission, you fool.
Then again, if I weren't here, I'd probably be on the Citadel when the Reapers came... ugh, that might be even worse. I wonder if anyone there is still alive. Damn. Those poor people. She squirms uneasily, trying to see just how the battle around the Citadel is going, but the frigates and cruisers of the Turian Seventh Fleet surround the Crucible and the science vessels so tightly that she can barely see anything but other ships. Now and then an errant red particle beam hits some of the turian ships, but if one is taken out, another is always ready to move into the vacant spot, protecting the Crucible with this living shield, keeping their sole ray of hope at winning this war alive.
Not to mention that Bau now being somewhere en route to London sends worried flutters through her stomach. I wonder what would Keiji say if he knew I would end up with a salarian. He'd probably tease me relentlessly. And laugh. Point and laugh? But no... above all, he'd be happy for me. He was just... that kind of a person.
Sometimes just thinking about the unlikely, slightly odd relationship with the salarian Spectre makes her smile and giggle, but not this time. This time the only thing she can think of is how desperately she needs him to come back. I already lost Keiji. I lost Jacob before I even truly knew whether I wanted him. But I'm not losing Bau... if I do, I'd have to start thinking I bring bad luck or something, and that can't be right, I'm too cute to bring bad luck!
She smiles again, remembering Bau's face when they had parted less than an hour ago. The salarian has never been one to display a lot of emotion, but... she had sensed that what they shared between them was strong and genuine, even if not a lot was said, and truth be told, she preferred it this way. She loved her cheesy romance novels, certainly, but that didn't mean she wanted to be constantly treated like some kind of self-entitled princess. And there was a lot to like about Jondum, even if he wasn't the romantic prince from a silly fairytale. It wasn't even that she found salarians particularly attractive as species, more like oddly cute, but they did share a lot of professional admiration for each other, and the tales of her thieving exploits always helped to bring Bau into the right kind of mood... his keen intelligence and the cold, logical reasoning with which he solved riddles during his work as a Spectre, she found these traits far more attractive than the girth of one's biceps.
He better come back in one piece, Kasumi thinks determinedly. I'm going to smooch him like mad. And if my cute frog ever turns into a stupid, blonde-haired brawny prince from fairy tales, I'm going to be seriously pissed off...
In the courtyard of the FOB, somewhere amongst the numerous Mako's, Shepard finds Lieutenant James Vega giving a motivational speech to some of the resistance fighters as well as the first marines who have arrived as part of the main Hammer force. Javik is standing nearby, leaning against the wall, allowing himself to be used as a demonstration object as a part of the speech. Shepard quietly approaches to stand next to the Prothean, a near perfect vantage spot from which to observe all the shuttles of the Hammer heading towards the base.
There are a great many harvesters swarming in the air, however, and increasingly heavy ground fire, coupled with a pair of destroyers slowly starting to move in to cut off the approach lanes to the base, and all too often Morgan sees yet another shuttle explode in bright flames, tumbling to the ground together with the hapless marines trapped inside. Slowly, it beings to appear that getting even half of the Hammer forces to the FOB would be considered a success in itself.
Soon enough, James cuts his inspirational speech short and walks over to her and Javik. "Damn it, Lola, I don't know what I expected coming back to Earth, but I certainly didn't expect this!" he exclaims, spreading his arms to point at the husk of a city around them.
"You saw Thessia, surely you knew this would be as bad if not worse?" Shepard shrugs. "But yeah... this makes me wonder whether it is even possible to rebuild from something like this."
"If we're not going to rebuild then what the hell are we fighting for?" James sounds a little incensed. "Let's grab everyone we can, get out of the system and toss an asteroid into the relay, leave those Reapers frying."
"Bit too late for that now, the Reapers are probably sitting tight around that relay and won't let anyone escape," Morgan replies. "But everyone fights for different reasons, James. I don't think I will be staying on Earth for too long, if I get out of this alive... never felt quite like I belonged here, but I still want to save the planet and as many people as I can."
"Fair enough, Lola," James nods. "Still, I'm proud to have served with you, Shepard. If there was anyone who could have led us through something like this... it was you, Commander."
"The 'James' human is correct," Javik cuts into their conversation. "Watching all these different races working together... Commander, you have made me into a believer. Now I wish that we had handled some things differently in our cycle. There was no rallying cry like this... instead we were fractured, scattered, trying in vain to survive every day as if it were our last."
"Rallying cry indeed, but our success is far from assured," Morgan says grimly.
"But at least you still have a fighting chance, Commander, even as you stand on the precipice of this final battle," Javik replies heatedly. "We never had that hope, we lost the war the very moment that the Reapers were allowed to pour in through the Citadel relay. From then on, we were facing an uphill struggle."
"Well, then I guess being able to take part in something like this must feel doubly satisfying for you," Morgan remarks.
"Yes, being granted an opportunity to fulfill my mission, to become the exemplar of vengeance that I was meant to be... I am grateful to you for providing me with this chance, Commander," Javik bows to her. "But you are now the avatar of this cycle. The exemplar of history. Not just for humanity, turians, asari or Protheans, but for all life. Every soul that has ever existed is watching this moment."
Shepard lets out a heavy sigh. "You know, I've been trying to think of something that would take the edge off and relax me, instead of putting on extra pressure," she chuckles darkly.
"Victory has never been achieved without difficult choices," Javik tells her. "Do not waver, and do not dwell upon them, for the doubts surrounding them will slow you down."
"Choices that I've already made or choices that I will be forced to make?"
"Both," comes the as always unhelpful reply. "In any case, Commander... it has been a privilege to serve alongside you, even if at times I considered your course of action to be destructive and foolish. Now I see that I might have been mistaken."
"You're forgiven, Prothy," Morgan manages a small smile. "Never thought I'd have a living Prothean on my squad... and though you were kind of pain in the ass most of the time, Javik, hearing you say what you just told me... well, it means a lot. It really does," she adds with a nod, turning around to look at how the Hammer shuttles are doing. They are still coming in, but less and less frequently, the Reapers laying down the pressure.
"It's getting brutal out there, Lola," James says. "Ten to fifteen minutes, and we can forget about getting any more Hammer through that deathtrap."
"Yeah, looks like you're right, James," Shepard nods. "I better start moving towards that CC... " Must make sure not to ask EDI about our odds... because I fear they just took even more trashing...