The Sword of Humanity

Chapter Six

Up above Eden Prime, the space battle was drawing to an unforeseeable conclusion. Mass driver rounds impacted against the strafe section of the Black Wing dreadnought, tearing apart the command bridge and forcing the ship to pressurize and lose its guide.

Within seconds, the headless Dreadnought impacted against the shambling remains of the Science Station in orbit, detonating in the same instant as its reactor reached critical point.

From his observation post alongside the planet's orbit, John Shepard was silently cursing the situation.

"Isn't there an end to these things!?"

"Commander! Admiral Hackett on the line!" the communication officer barked through the shuddering bridge —smaller mass effect rounds impacting against their reinforced armor plates and bouncing off.

"Patch him through!"

The weary face of the Admiral appeared on screen, his expression contrite and his eyes narrowed.

"Commander Shepard, we are about to finish our supplies. I'm pulling out the Fifth Gamma Fleet after this last barrage."

"But sir, the ambassador—"

"Commander!" Hackett snapped. "We won't have a single missile left after this barrage and if our Dreadnoughts didn't cut it, I doubt our Cruisers will. We're aiming for the Black Twenty-Seven up there, whatever the hell it is."

"Sir," he snapped to attention. "Ready at your signal."

"Well then Commander, it's been a pleasure having you under my command. Henderson? You copy?"

"Yes, sir," David Anderson's voice cut in on the communication, and suddenly a feeling of dread pooled into Shepard's stomach.

"Somebody will have to remain behind to hold the thing back. I'm not letting it hit our men with their backs turned. Anderson? In five minutes, you'll be the new Fleet Admiral. Till then obey my orders and retreat all forces from the system right now!"

And then, John Shepard watched as realization dawned on the face of Anderson, as Hackett's grim smile bloomed into a sort of gruff snicker.

Communication was cut off a second later.

Hackett

Cruiser Gamma Ray

"Men," he spoke crisply, as various ruptures around the bridge splintered and showered radiation and gasses around them. "We won't be leaving."

"Yeah, Commander. We kind of got that," one of the officer chuckled —his face was covered in grime and he had a dark and blotchy wound on the forehead. "Collision course?"

"Get us against that son of a Von Neumann whore, and bring the reactors to critical level," Steven Hackett exhaled slowly, as the men and women under his command obeyed, the flashing lights of the Ai warning him that the databases were being purged to prevent information capture from the wreckage.

"Commander, they're aiming at us!" a rumble shook the ship, as mass drivers impacted against the starboard side.

"Magazine sector's critical sir! It's going to explod—"

A loud noise echoed throughout the corridors, as the yell of "PRESSURIZE!" filled the bridge.

The blares of the sirens were accompanied by the hydraulic doors shutting close all over the ship.

"Sir, we've got people on the Hannibal Pods."

"Turn starboard, eject, turn portside, advance."

There was silence for a split-second, before the order was understood and received. The escape pods were launched as crude flares, upon which the enemy's missiles and short-range lasers impacted against. This lowered the pressure on the Gamma Ray, whose speed reached maximum velocity as it neared the giant vessel.

The thing was opening its arms, the red circle on its stomach flaring with light as it prepared to fire.

"ALL ARMS, BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

And then, there was light.

Commander John Shepard

"Commander, transmission incoming from Eden Prime," Edi's voice piped in as his right hand was covering his face, the rumbling of the point-blank lasers firing at the enemy's missiles as the smaller mass drivers pinged out.

Their own salvo discharge of missiles had impacted against the monster at the same time as those of the rest of the fleet…and the thing had barely swerved from its orbit. It was like watching the System Killer all over again. It was like seeing one of those old war vids of the Hiver Dreadnoughts barraging against the Solforce Destroyers. Bile rose to his throat as he realized they would probably be the next ones —Dreadnoughts were slower than Detroyers or Cruisers in battle, and the thing seemed to target them first.

"Patch it through."

The image of a muddy-faced Ashley Williams came to screen, the soldier hiding behind a rock formation as next to her Major Alenko was firing shots at something.

"Sir! The alien said the enemy is called 'Geth'! Whatever the hell these things are, they use plasma shots!"

"Williams! Have you joined with the ambassador's forces?"

"Negative sir, we're cut off by giant Terminators at the moment," Williams remarked. "The alien escaped too, she went towards the spaceport," the soldier snorted. "As if somebody would give her a passage."

"Williams," John's face darkened. "Your mission to retrieve her takes top priority!"

"That's the thing Skipper, she's no longer there! Spaceport's empty! She left!"

John's eyes snapped to the hologram of the battlefield. The sensors weren't picking up anything but enemy fighters and ships, and…

There.

Near the point of deployment, a red shuttle was heading straight towards the Black Twenty-Seven.

He growled.

"Never trust the alien," he muttered. "Never."

He stood up, staring at his men who were already starting to sort-of relax as the enemy ships appeared to be lowering their amount of fire.

"Men," he began. "Slingshot around the planet, reach for the Mass Relay."

"Sir?" the navigator, Pressly, looked at him with perplexity. "Our orders are to retreat."

"They have the alien, and the alien has knowledge of the inner working of key structures belonging to Solforce. She must not escape us." He enlarged the image of the shuttle. "It's aiming for Black Twenty-Seven. Slingshot around, it will be faster than turning the ship, and get her in range of the missiles. We're taking that thing down even if we have to ram against it."

"Yes sir, plotting course," the Navigator's mood actually spiked at that information. Pressly was far more vocal on the need to 'euthanize' the alien whenever possible, but that did press from his past. John had gotten him drunk once, and he had wished he hadn't afterwards. The man's entire family, sons, daughters, granddaughters and what-not had been assaulted during the Node-Line travel of a colonizer's ship by Zuul Bore-ships.

They had never found the bodies, but then again Zuul thought that infants were delicacies to be eaten roasted after their minds had been raped.

He called the Engine sections, opening communication with Chief Engineer Adams.

"We need more power to the engines! Sling-Shotting!"

"Understood sir, we'll increase the Deuterium to critical mass. The coolant pipes should hold."

"Sir," another Engineer remarked next to Adams. "We're irradiating already; the Geiger's clicking."

"Suit up then! You heard the Commander!"

He cut communication with the Engine, before moving to the Battle's Bridge.

"Emerson! Come in!"

A tanned man, with green eyes and a Solforce beret, appeared on screen. Behind him men were moving their hands frenetically on their consoles, while the blast-shields were covered with holograms of the outside situation.

"Emerson here commander," the battle bridge overseer replied. "All missile batteries recharging, particle beam primed and ready to fire. Point-Blank defense ready to fire."

"We're sling-shotting! Fill the tubes and hold them in, aim for the shuttle I'm pinging you."

"Will do Commander, will do."

John gritted his teeth as he closed off the communication, before starting to thrum his fingers against the palm-shelf of his chair.

"Send Data-Packet to Captain Anderson," he turned to Edi as he spoke. "Warn him of my orders."

"Data-Packet sent," Edi said a moment later.

"Now close all communications with external ships."

"Done, Commander."

Edi did not say a word more, albeit the way the Navigator was looking towards him told a long story.

"Repensum est Canicula, Commander?" Pressly asked.

"Confutatis, Navigator. Confutatis."

And then the music began to sing as the Dreadnought spun in orbit around the planet.

Confutatis!

The ship gained speed.

Maledictis!

The point-blank lasers fired on the incoming missiles, as the mass drivers missed them. The formation of Geth ships was broken through as the Engine sector turned an alarming shade of orange and red. Crimson flames sprouted from the reactor's hologram, as the ship's speed simply increased.

Flammis acribus addictis!

John's voice seemed to be lost in the blare of the sirens, as the missiles were unleashed upon the unsuspecting shuttle.

Flammis acribus addictis!

The missiles flared out of their racks and twirled in space as silent delivers of death. An enemy cruiser flew to intercept them, ending up torn in half by the Particle Beams of the main mounts.

Voca me cum benedictis.

Speeding through the wreckage, the missiles detonated after the long-range lasers of the Black Twenty-Seven came down to protect the rear of the shuttle.

"Don't you dare stop!" he roared to the ship, more than to his crew. "Take them down!"

The particle beams fired ahead, the shuttle nimbly evading them as the Black Twenty-Seven's limbs began to fall to somehow 'safeguard' the shuttle from harm.

"You imbecile," John snarled. "We're in space!" he thrust his hands on the palm-shelves, pulling up the manual commands to change direction. "There's no ground!"

And then the Engines ended up upwards, as the ship spun and the missile racks fired downwards, before locking on their target and starting to rise back up.

The Black Twenty-Seven outright screamed as it had lowered its kinetic barriers to let the shuttle board. Without the protection of its reinforced 'digits', the missiles' explosion broke the outer layer of the construct, sending its alloys to scatter in the air as radiation and heat washed over its interiors. The thing wailed as it opened once more, a red ray of death coming forward to slam against the Dreadnought's exterior hull and breaching through it as the Polysteel barely held its form.

"Forward Mess breached. Forward Quarters breached. Pressurization needed. Pressurization requested. Pressurize immediately."

Edi's monotone voice was met with the scrambling of one of the officers out of his seat, to slam a hand down on a lever near the command's bridge door. The lights blared red for a split second more, before the hydraulics closed all doors shut with an extra protection of a steel plate. "Command Bridge Pressurized."

"Attention, impact imminent."

That snapped John's attention back to the hologram, and in that instant…he realized the engine-section was now ramming against the upper reinforced side of the beast.

The engines broke, the detonation ringing across the ship as the alarms for radiation echoed in the now devoid of life lower levels —where the radioactive waste was usually stored, and which were now pre-emptively emptied.

The explosion tore apart chunks of the alien's upper plates, exposing cybernetic and metallic frames beneath. Then again, the creature prepared to fire once more.

"Engage side thrusters!" John's command fell on frantic people who were busy rerouting the auxiliary power across the ship, trying to get the side thrusters to move.

"We don't have enough energy for that and the point-blank defense sir! Disengaging particle beam and life-support! Everyone, brace for Zero Gravity and suit up!"

The metallic helmet popped to life around his throat, provided by the chair he was on. The rest of the crew scrambled to get the breathers out, before the gravity went away soon followed by the air resupply. The thrusters engaged barely, pushing to the side the motor-less Dreadnought out of the line of fire of a second laser ray of sorts.

"Sir! He's locking on us!"

John cursed.

"Activate the warheads in the ship's magazines! Let him eat on—"

"Commander Shepard, it will not be necessary."

A female voice spoke from the speakers near his seat, as the blurry hologram of a woman appeared. "Reinforcements have arrived."

And then a strong pulse of energy slammed the Black Twenty-Seven two kilometers away from their ship.

Yes, in his book, that day, Psionics became his most beloved friends.

Cerberus Operative

Miranda Lawson

"The Artificial Biosphere on the ship is all crap around here!" the female Admiral of the ship cussed, "I mean, ma'am, it's shit pure and simple. We should hook up with the planet's Psi-sphere"

Jacqueline Nought cursed even louder, as her hands thrummed around her arms. The woman's body was barely covered by straps of synthetic belts, the vast majority of the skin blemished with neuronal micro-chips that connected to the outer layers of the Psionic-Enhancer. Near her stood other Psionics, all in her very same 'dress' code.

"This has nothing to do with Eden Prime being your home, is it?" Miranda remarked, her arms crossed over her chest with a barely contained smirk. She was the only one dressed with a modicum of normality, but after all what else could she expect from a Psionic ship?

"Course not Cheerleader," Jacqueline snorted back. "We work better recharging through the atmosphere's psionic potential."

"Fine, up-link to the Psionic population down on the planet."

There was a soft beep, as a female purple colored hologram materialized on deck. "Uplink executed. We are connected."

Jacqueline chuckled before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "That's the shit now, Aida. See cheerleader? This is how it should work."

And then the Psionics' Admiral clapped her hands together, soon followed by the rhythmic repetition of feet stomping from the others.

Outside, in the depths of space, waves of strength smashed throughout the infinite nothing sending particles of thoughts-turned-reality into existence near the Geth Dreadnoughts firing upon the last remaining Dreadnought.

The particles slammed through the closest Dreadnought, which suddenly began to fire upon its other ally, before crashing straight ahead and tearing itself apart as the engines blared and detonated, scattering the second enemy ship in pieces and hurling it against the planet's atmosphere.

"Take five! We're on a roll whores and bastards! Let's keep it cool and get the fuckers out of our system!"

"Enemy fleet retreating. Dreadnought Deep Darkness in critical condition," Aida piped in just as the Solforce dreadnought began to detonate, ripping through its hull as escape pods were flung in the depths of space.

"Take five cancelled. Let's save those sorry bastards," Jacqueline snapped to attention, as a couple of 'scantily' clad men pushed their hands forward, sending the ship on an interception course with the pods.

"You reckon their captain's still alive in that mess?"

"Commander Shepard has been chosen to lead an important mission for the Director himself. If he's dead, then it just means he wasn't up for the task."

"Damn you're a cold Ice Queen…and a bitch, and a cheerleader. Did I say Ice Queen already?"

"You did ma'am," another man commented from his seat at the helm.

"Shove it Carlson! When I'll want your opinion, I'll let you know!"

"Yes ma'am."

Ashley Williams

Strange poles stood erected from the ground, corpses impaled upon them in some sort of twisted and sick ritual. Did machine even have gods? She supposed they did, and if they did…then they had to be damn bastards too.

The corpses of the colons and the civilians as well as those of the soldiers impaled upon the spikes fell on the ground with their skin flailed away, cybernetics of a pale blue color coloring them as they became a new enemy to defeat. Some sort of Xombie plague that seemed to be working through cybernetics, rather than through virus.

The bullets worked just fine —as long as you aimed for the things' head— and they did not seem able to wield weapons like their living counterparts. Major Alenko fired right next to her, taking out a husk that had been circling their entrenched position. The explosions around them had subdued —a sign that the enemy fleet had retreated or left to resupply.

The radio crackled to life as the jammers of the enemy disappeared, letting the words of the central command through.

"I repeat, enemy fleet is retreating! Allied fleet Psi-Five has arrived! To all Solforce Forces, throw the bastards out of our system soldiers! Throw them out!"

"You heard central command!" Jenkins yelled. "We're winning this!"

"Somebody get the rookie's head down!" Fredrick's scream tore through the air as a missile detonated near their cover, metal shrapnel tearing apart the right side of Leeroy's head and throwing his now still corpse on the ground covered in blood. "Shit!"

"They're flanking us!" Alenko's scream was met with the man's left hand tearing through matter, pushing away with his Psionic an incoming squadron of Geth who detonated against the nearby metallic surface. "They've got nothing to lose!"

"This is so screwed up it's not even funny," Ashley whispered as she took aim and gunned down another one of those Loa-Wannabes. "Fucking torchlights."

"This is Major Alenko! We need shuttle support!" the radio chatter grew wilder by the second, as a reply came through their ear-coms a few second later.

"Negative Major, we don't have any shuttles ready yet. Second platoon Earth Forces is inbound on your position. Hold your ground!"

A few gunshots of overheated plasma blazed through the air, melting apart the cover and tearing down the radio.

"Radio's down! We've got to retreat!" Fredrick's yell was met with the soldier standing up, giving his back to the enemy and starting to run away. He didn't take more than two steps before a sniper's bullet tore through his Brawler armor and left a gaping hole in his chest.

"They're using Anti-Armor rounds now," Ashley whispered in disbelief. "We're screwed."

"You heard the radio Williams! Hold. The. Ground."

The noises increased, as if all the Geth in the damn planet suddenly decided to come over to their nice position to have some sort of fucking tea party.

She held the assault rifle above her head, firing short bursts without bringing her head up. The Major instead crawled to the side of their cover —a half-torn apart metallic crate— and took aim. A Geth literally jumped in the air there and then, landing behind their cover and aiming his rifle at them.

She didn't think. She just pounced on the thing with her bare hands, slamming her fist —enhanced by the Brawler suit's hydraulics— against the face of the machine, tearing the torchlight apart as she grabbed the thing's rifle and jumped back down. The Anti-Armor caliber bullet impacted with precision against her left shoulder, tearing apart her arm as she fell with a scream.

The suit closed the bleeding wound up, cauterizing it with a gut-wrenching flare of pain. "Williams! Stay with me!"

"Fuck you Major!" she spat back out. "Fuck you."

"Now's not the time," he retorted. "Maybe later, after I save our sorry asses."

She just chuckled grimly as she felt her eyes grow heavy and her pulse lower. She let out a startled sigh of exhaustion then, as darkness clouded her mind and tiredness clasped against her soul. She finally closed her eyes, and as the eternal sleep claimed her she couldn't help but warily pray.

Please…someone…help.

John Shepard

Edi's Ai programming stood snuggly fit in the palm of his hand. The entire database of Solforce fit into the palm of his hand. Terabytes of information all within a single micro-chip that could easily be lost, that could easily pass hands…and yet there it was, in his hands.

They had been rescued by the Psi-Ship Pretty Bitch, a name that had apparently been changed mid-flight rather than in the docks where the ship had been built. He had lost nearly all of his crew, and no matter how much they were congratulating him for wounding the Flagship of the enemy, he couldn't help but consider this a loss.

They hadn't won the battle: the enemy had left. The only comforting thought was that the rest of the High Command wasn't actually blaming him, but the situation at hand. They had been nothing more than a Dreadnought after all, and his decision to stall and attack the Flagship had actually bought the land units precious time —there was no doubt that left alone, the giant Leviathan-class ship would have attacked the ground forces.

Having even managed to damage it, and having the chunks analyzed by their research labs, was a bonus by itself. Whatever alloys the creature used would eventually find its way to them, whatever weapons and shields they used would become theirs with time. They weren't salvagers like the Zuuls, but Humanity had learned to adapt and strive no matter where or what.

Humanity was the underdog that simply didn't want to lose.

"Commander Shepard?" his door had opened a second before, and already a female voice was followed by a woman with a curvaceous body entering. She held a Datapad in her hands, and her raven hair looked —for lack of a better term— voluptuous like her lips. He just stared at her for a moment more, before locking eyes with the symbol on the right side of her chest.

The three headed dog, Cerberus…from the Greek word Kerberos.

"Yes ma'am," he snapped to attention. Cerberus operatives worked outside the regular chain of command, but they spoke with the word of the Director of Solforce, and whatever they said or asked for was to be treated with the utmost respect. The Director handpicked each operative by himself, delivering upon them the expectations of all of humanity just as they were delivered upon his shoulders.

"You're resume caught the eye of the Director," the woman said off-handedly. "I on the other hand am faced with the recent events. You went against direct orders of retreat to commit a suicide run against the enemy Flagship. You lost more than ninety-percent of your crew. You were literally hauled into the escape pod by your crewmen, as you refused to abandon ship."

"Joker said that, didn't he?" he winced.

"Lieutenant Moreau has already called dibs on the next ship you will be commanding, Commander Shepard," the woman now twitched her lips slightly upwards. "And in any event, what Cerberus demands is not victory in battles, but success in war. To lose a battle but win a war is perfectly within the parameters, and the dedication to not let go is also a part of the Special Operative Forces."

He blinked once. What was she…

"It is thus with great pleasure, that I hereby install you as the newest Cerberus Operative of Solforce. From this moment onwards, you are to refer to the Director and the Director alone. You will be given the private contact line accessible only to his operatives, equipment and means to reach the only end available to Humanity: victory over the alien."

Her face turned stern then.

"Until the last alien draws its last breath. Until the last enemy lies defeated upon the ashes of its world. Until the last bullet has been fired and the last weapon used against us, we of Cerberus will be. We are the Guardian of Humanity, we are its claws and heads, and we are its Shield and Sword. We who wield the Sword of the Stars shall cleave our path across the universe, to strike at the heart of our enemies. We are the Sword of Humanity, its weapon against the foul enemy. So," with bated breath she drew a pin from her pocket, before moving closer to his still-at-attention form. "Will you swear to protect Humanity? Will you swear to uphold Solforce ideals above those of all else? Will you draw your last breath in defense of the colonies?"

His eyes narrowed and his face turned cold as he snapped a military salute.

"Yes, sir!"

The pin was placed, the theatricals done.

"Welcome to Cerberus, Operative Shepard."

A Datapad was passed into his hands.

"This is the new Flagship of the Citadel-Border. It is a Leviathan Class, equipped with newly minted Eezo engines and top-of-the line anti-matter engines. It holds a Kingfisher, Scotsman and a Reflex Furnace module alongside a GOOP and a Joker system. It also comes with an in-built Xavier system. You may use the Deep Darkness Enhanced Defense Intelligence as its Artificial Intelligence."

The next page that scrolled on the Datapad was that of the Leviathan-class itself. It stood at over eight-hundred meters of length and forty-meters of width, with at least eighty-meters of height. The bulks of the modules and the lights coming from the Battle Bridge and the Command Section were shining a pale blue light, as the name etched on its side was clearly visible.

SFS-001 Normandy.

Author's notes

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