Chapter 120 - No Surrender, No Retreat
The remaining dreadnaughts of the Alliance, Turian and Asari fleets begin to move into positions surrounding the Citadel, finally having driven the last of the Reaper ships off, but the push has come with greater cost than they could have afforded, drastically reducing the time that they can sustain this war effort. Also, the lack of Reaper counterattack to retake the control of the space around the Citadel is worrying Hackett, especially considering that the largest of the capital ships that alone had taken out five or six dreadnaughts, has unexplainably disappeared from his screens. "Where the hell did that thing go?" he turns to look at Takashima, demanding answers.
"It appears that the Reaper capital ship has left the battle and is heading back towards the planet, sir," his aide replies immediately, and it is not an answer that he had been hoping to hear.
"Inform Anderson immediately, I don't want to have a nasty surprise dropping on the Hammer," Hackett orders. "Any news about their progress, Lieutenant-Commander?"
"Admiral Anderson reports that so far the attack is proceeding according to plan," comes the reply. "Estimated arrival at the relay, one hour and thirty minutes, sir."
"Let's just hope everything continues to go according to plan," Hackett sighs. "Can we get an update on the fleet status?"
"Right away, sir," Takashima says, sending the latest data feeds to display on the screens before Hackett. "Sir, when do we plan to bring the Crucible in?"
"Not until we know that someone has made it to the Citadel, Lieutenant-Commander," Hackett replies, starting to read the latest numbers of the fleet status. Alliance First, 55%. Alliance Third 50%, Alliance Fifth 65%, Alliance Sixth 40%... damn, we'll have to reinforce the flanks again, but with what? Hackett thinks desperately.
Asari Sixth still at 70%, thank god. Second Fleet down to 45%. Turian Sixth still at 67% and with two thirds of dreadnaughts, that's not so bad. Seventh at 98%, protecting the Crucible... we cannot throw them into the battle just yet. Quarians and Salarian Third down below 50%, geth around 30% and pretty much out of it... smaller fleets not worth considering for anything more than support... and the Terminus Fleets... at 80%? Damn slippery bastards, they probably realize that we'll try to put them in harm's way first and are ignoring our direct orders... complete and utter bastards!
"Lieutenant-Commander?" he turns to Takashima again. "Ask the turians to send half of their dreadnaughts to reinforce our flanks. If the Sixth Fleet collapses, the core of our fleets will become trapped and we cannot allow that to happen!"
"Understood, sir. Orders have been sent."
And now all we have to do is keep the path to the Citadel secure for two more hours... Hackett thinks grimly, looking at the numbers of fleet strength before him and watching the projected time of how long they can hold out rapidly ticking down. Damn it... Shepard, Anderson, you have to pull this thing off. This is going to be touch and go...
"Damn it," Wrex curses, after he and the Aralakh Company have broken through the Reaper lines to reunite with the artillery units trailing behind, only to find the Alliance marines all as one slaughtered, the tanks turned into smoldering wrecks. "Stupid puny humans can't even survive a few minutes without krogan holding their hands!"
"Orders, clan leader?" one of the younger krogan steps closer to ask him.
Wrex ponders a little bit, realizing only too well that it is pointless to push ahead if they don't have any tanks with them, but also unwilling to retreat or wait for the third wave to catch up with them. "Stand your ground, krogan, while I speak with this human in charge!" he then bellows, switching on his omni-tool to link in to the channel assigned to the squad leaders.
"We have new orders," he yells, having spoken with Major Coats for a brief while. There are still Reapers pouring in and advancing, following the path of their retreat, a large group led by a banshee, and he quickly sends the Aralakh to wipe them out, smirking at himself as the foes fall swiftly, two of the krogan grabbing the banshee by its legs and arms and roaring like mad as they stretch the screeching creature to the point where its limbs and body comes apart, severed in disgusting, filthy pieces of black, rotting tech and biotic-infused flesh.
"Golf Company is traveling directly by our right flank," he shouts at his krogan once the last of the Reapers have been eliminated. "If we take a shortcut through these buildings, we should emerge right on top of them. Just... don't shoot them if they mistake us for the Reaper, got it? These humans are twitchy and frightened of their own shadows."
"There's a corridor here leading through the building, clan leader!" one of the Aralakh scouts points at a dark opening, excited look in his eyes.
"Alright, well spotted, Shurik," Wrex nods, leading his forces towards the entrance. The passageway is rather narrow and dark, and they are forced to move in single file through it.
For a while, they progress slowly and mostly in silence, which is then suddenly interrupted by a metallic bonking noise and someone giving a pained grunt of surprise directly behind Wrex.
"What is it, Shurik?" Wrex asks, not looking back.
"Something fell on me," the other krogan replies, switching on his omni-tool to provide some light. "Say, that almost looks like..."
Wrex turns around to stare at what has fascinated the younger krogan so much, but he doesn't much like the looks of the small, elongated object that Shurik is holding in his hand. "Yep, that's a grenade alright. Where did you find it?"
"Uh... someone threw it on me from above..."
Wrex looks upwards, only to see shadows of a group of cannibals on the wall above them, and suddenly there are many more grenades raining down towards them. "Ah, sod it! Get out, get out!" he bellows, starting to run towards the exit. "Run, run, r-" But he doesn't get to say much more as there is a deafening explosion behind him, and the last thing Wrex knows of is the entire building collapsing on top of him and the last of the Aralakh Company.
Miranda breathes heavily, throwing herself in the cover, coming under increasingly heavy Reaper fire. The situation in her sector is unenviable. The second wave has pushed in far too deep, and the third wave groups have proven to be completely incapable of reaching them quickly. Assembled mostly of the Blue Suns mercs, they had lost morale quickly and dropped like flies, leaving both Kilo and Delta artillery companies defenseless and the Reapers had pounced on the tanks quickly, destroying them without a moment's thought.
Now, Miranda Lawson finds herself to be the last person alive in the sector, completely cut off from the rest of the third wave and not feeling very positive about her chances. The Reapers are beginning to flood out of the zone and she is able to keep herself hidden for now, but she wants to contribute to the fight, instead of sitting tight and waiting for the last wave to arrive and relieve her position. The large supply of medi-gel she has brought with her so far only has been used to treat herself, having been shot several times already. The Blue Suns had proved to be so incompetent that she had realized very early on that trying to heal them would simply be a waste of resources.
Her current vantage point, hiding under one of the destroyed Kilo tanks, is hardly ideal, but at least it is safe, time and again she sees the disgusting gnarled feet of cannibals and marauders passing by, not sparing a second look at the smashed vehicle. Another Reaper group is passing her right now, and she instinctively holds her breath, until they have passed... but then, something unexpected happens. She sees the blinding blue light of biotics and suddenly powerful detonations not just simply rip the Reaper group to small pieces, it also flips over the damaged tank, leaving her dazed and exposed to the view of whoever have arrived to her rescue.
"Hold your fire, we have a friendly!" with her ears ringing, she hears a pleasant feminine voice, then feeling powerful hands grasping her by the shoulders and pulling her upright, finding herself staring in the face of a professional looking, narrow-eyed asari commando. "Coreen Lemaes, Special Commando Unit assigned to the Fifth Fleet," the asari introduces herself.
"Miranda Lawson... privateer, completely out of her depth," she mutters, drawing a chuckle from the asari and her fellow commandos. "What are you doing here, Lemaes? Don't you have enough Reapers to contend with in your own sector?"
"There's no shortage of Reapers everywhere you look, Lawson," the asari replies curtly. "But the command doesn't want to lose this zone, so they sent me and my girls to hold it until the fourth wave gets here. You're welcome to stick with us, human. You'll find us more competent than your mercenary colleagues," she adds, poking a corpse of one of the Blue Suns with disgust written all across her face.
"That sounds acceptable," Miranda agrees, looking over the commandos, noticing that one of them, the youngest looking one, seems to be struggling not to cry out in pain and no wonder, there is a sizeable shrapnel imbedded deep in her thigh, bleeding heavily. "I have a lot of medi-gel, Lemaes, and I'm a doctor of sorts. Let me help her," she points at the injured maiden.
Lemaes nods quickly. "Take defensive positions, people," she shouts out her orders. "Ginessia, come here and lay down, let the human fix that leg of yours," the commando leader helps her younger squadmate to get into the cover of heavy concrete blocks, Miranda quickly bringing her medkit over and starting to work on the injured leg.
"Appreciate it, Lawson," Lemaes nods, managing a curt smile. "We used a lot of our medi-gel on the survivors of the second wave and left some of it to the Alliance people with the Bravo company, so we're running low. It was lucky we ran into you when we did."
Miranda stops working on the wound and briefly raises her head to return the commando leader's smile. "I should thank you for the timely rescue, Lemaes. And if this isn't the time when we start looking out for each other... when else?" The answer to her rhetorical question is a nod and another smile from the asari commando leader Coreen Lemaes.
"Take that you bastards!" Aria T'Loak shouts, her biotic projectiles slamming into the group of marauders and cannibals trapped by Liara's singularities, shattering the foes to pieces, littering their body parts in every direction, the torso of one cannibal landing right on top of the collapsed concrete pillar behind which Commander Morgan Shepard has been trying to set up aim at one of the ravagers harassing them and the Able Company.
"Eww, disgusting," Morgan remarks, staring at the mangled body but then pushing the barrel of her sniper rifle through the large gaping hole in the cannibal's chest and resuming her fire behind the improvised Reaper barrier, quickly taking out two other cannibals, and then switching to hit the ravager, just as Liara's warp fields impact with the foe, destroying it for good and taking the pressure off them and the artillery unit, giving them an all too brief respite.
"That is a... rather novel way to shoot," Liara remarks, watching Morgan shake cannibal remains off from her bloody Widow, the tanks resuming their movement forward, slowly making inroads towards the destroyer and the relay beam.
"Hey, it worked," Morgan shrugs, mustering a small smile. So far, so good. But progress on the other sectors is not as fast, if we push ahead too quickly, we might suffer the same fate as the second wave.
"What are you two waiting for?" Aria shouts at them impatiently. "We need to move onwards, quickly, before they react!"
And Aria rushing us is not helping matters. I know she wants to get to that relay, we all need to get to it, but I can't let blind haste kill us all. "Aria, you're bleeding... again," Morgan says, spotting another fortunately shallow wound on Aria's left side. "You're not going anywhere until that is treated," she says sternly, the Pirate Queen looking as if she wants to snap back, then biting down her reply and starting to apply the medi-gel, quietly grumbling at herself.
"Everything alright, Morgan?" Liara asks, looking her over critically, and no wonder, Shepard has already managed to sustain several injuries, fortunately light ones that do not impair her significantly.
"Yeah, I'm fine, but you're not, babe, that gash upon your brow is still bleeding heavily," she says worriedly, watching drops of blood flowing down and getting into Liara's eyes and on her cheeks, making her lover's face a dirty mess. "You said you would take care of it, and you clearly didn't."
"I... fear this might not be the last injury I sustain," Liara replies quietly. "I am worried that if I use too much medi-gel now, my system might go into shock if I need to treat a more serious injury later."
"Yeah... I see your point," Morgan nods reluctantly, knowing that Liara is right. She has had to treat several bullet wounds already, two going through her thigh and one in the shoulder, the round fortunately passing straight through. All this has forced her to use far more medi-gel than she hoped she would require, and this does not bode well for her long term chances.
The caravan of tanks has by now moved a little ahead of them, then coming to a grinding halt, one of the engineers accompanying the Able Company running up to her. "The road ahead is out, Commander!" he reports urgently. "Looks like we need to backtrack, ma'am!"
Oh, fucknuts, Morgan curses at herself silently. Well, maybe it'll give the rest of the third wave the opportunity to catch up with us. "Recommendations, Corporal?" she asks.
"Echo Company was just behind us on our left flank, but..." the young engineer hesitates. "They've dropped off the comms for some reason?"
"I believe that reason might just have revealed itself," Liara speaks with deceptive calm, pointing to the left, a pair of banshees and two brutes emerging from one of the ruined structures.
"Aria, hostiles at nine o'clock!" Shepard gives a shout to the other asari, the Pirate Queen staring at the relay ahead and looking very pissed off at the orders to turn back and seek another road, one that the tanks can navigate.
But the Queen of Omega immediately recognizes the danger that the incoming force poses, throwing herself behind a block of concrete. "This isn't going well, is it, Shepard?" she asks, leaning out of the cover to angrily fire her pistols at one of the brutes, then throwing a warp field at it, making the monstrous creature pause in its approach.
"Doesn't look very good, no," Shepard reluctantly admits. "Oh, by the way, Anderson just asked me on the channel whether they should deploy the fourth wave already..."
"Tell him not to bother, we've got this under control, don't we?" Aria grins, looking a bit manic as she watches Liara's biotic attacks twisting the brute's frame, following up with more weapons fire with incendiary ammo, watching the Reaper servant tumble to the ground lifeless, ducking aside to avoid its last desperate claw swipe.
"We don't have this under control!" Liara protests, looking close to losing her calm, nervously watching the banshees trying to flank them, as the remaining brute closes in through the middle. "Please, Morgan, tell me that your answer to the question of whether we need reinforcements was a resounding 'yes'!"
"It wasn't a 'yes', Liara," Morgan replies grimly, leaning out to unleash several quick and deadly shots at the brute, about to charge. "It was a resounding 'FUCK, YES'..."
"It appears as if you will get your chance to shoot some Reapers after all, Garrus," EDI remarks, watching the remaining Hammer tanks starting to move across the no-man's-land as the order for the deployment of the fourth wave comes in.
"Yeah," Garrus replies, clicking his mandibles nervously, despite his stated eagerness to get into the battle the turian is not looking terribly pleased now that the order has come. "Hope it's not because the third wave has been wiped out completely..."
"Shepard is still not answering the comms," Tali adds, sounding highly agitated as they follow the tanks very closely. "Maybe... maybe there's some interference... or she's too busy fighting to reply..."
"Shepard is alive and kicking, believe me, Tali," Garrus says, actually sounding confident, at least about this. "She's going to get to that relay, I'd bet my life on it." It's the rest of our lives that I'm very worried about...
"The Commander possesses an uncanny ability to defy impossible odds," EDI nods. "I am a little baffled that she would refuse to listen to the exact estimation regarding our odds of success. Perhaps I can enlighten you at least?"
"No thanks, EDI," Tali quickly shakes her head. "This seems desperate enough as it is, I'd rather hold on to some blind hope and optimism."
"Unfortunately, optimism is something that my core programming is violently incompatible with," EDI replies.
"We'd probably not like you as much if you'd become a shiny ray of goodwill and kindness, EDI," Garrus says, then instinctively ducking as a harvester flies low above their heads, looking for a spot where to unload its tiresome and dangerous cargo.
"Hey, you lied to Shepard, you do know how to duck, Garrus!" Tali exclaims, sounding a little relieved that her boyfriend possesses at least some survival instincts.
"Hmm, I guess I've spent too much time around humans and their bad habits are rubbing off on me," Garrus chuckles.
"Being able to save yourself from being shot in the head is NOT a bad habit!" Tali protests, as they see the harvester suddenly becoming ensnared by some kind of biotic bubble, almost like a gigantic stasis trap, result of several powerful biotics working together. Then, the bubble is violently destroyed, throwing pieces of harvester and the shattered troops still inside it all across the no-man's-land.
"I would extrapolate that we just saw the work of Jack and her biotic students," EDI concludes, looking almost admiring of the destruction caused by the human biotic squad.
"That was certainly impressive," Garrus admits. "Makes me wish we'd be positioned a little closer to Jack and her kids. She has trained them surprisingly well."
"Never would have believed that-" Tali starts, but then quickly stops herself, watching the blinking signal of an active channel popping open on her omni-tool. "Shepard's on the comms! Shepard! Commander, are you alright?" she shouts on the comms frantically, looking tense as she waits for a reply.
"What did she say? Did you get anything at all? Well?" Garrus demands of her frantically.
"I just overheard shouts and sounds of battle, Garrus... something like 'ow, shit, get that banshee away from me!'..." Tali replies in a shaky voice. "Keelah, I wish Anderson would have thrown us into the battle sooner... they're getting slaughtered out there..."
She feels the turian's hand closing around her shoulder and squeezing it tightly, Garrus looking at her, his eyes shining with rare compassion. "You must put everything else out of your mind, Tali, except only what we must do," he speaks softly. "I know it is hard, but it's the only way we can do this..."
Tali swallows heavily and nods. "I know, Garrus. I will be fine. Let's just... let's go and get it done. Let's help Shepard save the galaxy, so we can all go home..."
"Fuck... fucking piece of shit..." Morgan groans, waiting for Aria to finish working on applying medi-gel to her leg. "Don't tell me it's broken, please..." The last of the banshees had died just as it was releasing a powerful biotic nova right upon Shepard and Liara, sending them flying. Morgan had flown past one of the tanks to land heavily in the rubble, but her shins had smacked hard against the hull of the vehicle.
"Don't think so, Shepard, just very bruised and battered," Aria shrugs, finishing the application of medi-gel with a heavy slap that makes Morgan howl from pain. "Oh, just walk it off, you weakling," she grins cruelly, watching Shepard slowly getting back up to her feet and starting to take careful steps, walking up to Liara, her bondmate sitting propped up against the wheel of a badly damaged and already abandoned tank. Liara is holding a pack of medi-gel against her exposed shoulder, wincing in pain.
"Fractured," she grinds out the one word that Shepard hadn't wanted to hear. At least it is the left shoulder, letting Liara remain reasonably effective, even if Morgan fears whether her beloved will take the necessary precautions that someone with such an injury should consider.
"No more close up and personal heroics from you, missy," Morgan warns the asari seriously, then noticing that someone is trying to reach her on the comm channel reserved to the Normandy crew. "Wait, this might be important... Shepard here," she answers the call.
"Lola..." she barely recognizes the croaking voice, belonging to James Vega. "Lola... that you... needed to hear your voice... one last time..."
"Damn it, James, what's going on?" she demands urgently. Fuck, he does sound in a bad way. Shit! "Talk to me, soldier!"
"They... they wiped out... Charlie company," comes the weak reply. "Javik and I... last ones left... was supposed to watch my back... left me to die... ambushed by Reapers from behind..."
"Javik left you to die? But... but why?" Morgan asks, bristling with anger and incomprehension.
"Don't... know..." James' voice is growing weaker and weaker with every word. "If meet him... shoot... for me. One last favor... adios, Lo-... Lola..."
"James! James! James, answer me!" Shepard shouts into the comms, but as her eyes meet with Liara's serene blue orbs, she recognizes the truth with a painful clarity. This is the last time she has heard the voice of Lieutenant James Vega.