Once Bitten, Twice Shy

by Varigos D. Vastitas

Unwittingly uplifted beyond expectation by their foes, humanity not only destroyed their aggressors, but surpassed them and made their way to the stars. As Humanity expands from the Earth will they find their place in the galaxy, or will ghosts from the past come back to haunt them? (Co-writer NathanHale2.)

9. Planet of the Damned

If there would be one word to describe the current situation, it was chaos. Just Chaos. Plain and simple.

At Invictus High Command the Turians were still trying to gather their wits over what had happening on the planet: civilians rioting on the streets, bandits and opportunists using this chance to profit in this despicable situation. Squads, platoons, entire brigades went of the grid within seconds. Wiped out to their last man. By something evil, something so sinister and dark, it would and will, once it left the planet into the wilderness of the galaxy bring cataclysmic destruction to the Citadel space. The people of Invictus did not fathom the importance of the battle they were currently fighting, but they would soon. All to soon.

One of the forces fighting of this insidious plague was the 22' Anvil Brigade which had now been in the Capital for almost twenty hours since the start of these terrible attacks. The highest ranking officer of this brigade was Major Eros Tamos, ever since the death of their previous commander Colonel Tallus Hastiti and he hated every second of his command. Ever since they had gotten into this god forsaken city it went downhill from there. They should have foreseen the signs. The desolated outskirts, wrecked cars. The bodies. Shot, beaten, mutilated.

When their commander Colonel Hastiti had ordered the split into two sub units and tried; key word tried, to establish a Base of Operations and a Safe Haven for possible refugees. Which ended up being a large mall and the garage. As their lookout station and com relay served the local water-tower that towered over every building in the area of ten kilometers with its three-hundred and fifty meter height.

Within this complex forty percent of the colonies water supply was stored. A high value, strategic and tactical target of utmost importance. Swiftly Anvil Actual began it's work and fortified their location by the books. Fifteen meter high quick deployable containment and defense walls. Machine guns and sniper posts every hundred meters and fifty meters on the wall respectively. Foxholes and trenches outside and inside the Base/Safe Haven at a distance of three-hundred meters. Mines and spring guns at a distance of five-hundred meters. A safe passage and 'buffer zone' was created so that panicked civilians would not accidentally trigger the defense mechanisms and a prosecution area has been created to take 'stock' of the refugees and handle the resources. All according to plan and done by the books. However that was eighteen hours ago.

Now they were cut off and had lost all signs and radio feedback from any squad and company from Anvil Hammer. One thousand-seven hundred men possibly missing or dead. Probably the latter. Anvil Actual hadn't fared any better. Their onslaught, there wasn't any better word Eros would've described this situation, upon the safe haven that could have only managed five thousand people was being flooded with a number nearly ten times larger than expected or capable to handle for the 22' Anvil Brigade.

Never before had Eros seen something so terrible and horrible that it was impossible for him to describe. Men and Women stomped to death by their panicked neighbors, children torn apart or suffocated beneath the pile of bodies that started to form beneath the busy feet of the refugees. Fighting occurred making it near impossible for the outnumbered Turian soldiers to restore order. Some of the refugees even used improvised weaponry. Bright flames and the distinct smell of burned bodies erupted right in the middle of the panicked crowd. The Colonel tried to appease and bring order into this panicked which ranted about some beings in the dark, towering over the largest Elcor. Feeding off the nightmares and fears of their victims as they plant their seed into the perished victims, not granting them any rest only further torment in death.

Colonel Hastiti waved their concerns off with practiced ease. "These are just terrorist attacks, we will find and punish them and then you can return safely to your homes with your families happily united." he told them with practiced dismissal. That kept on until someone in the crowd had enough and shot the poor Colonel in the throat. As their commanding officer died in agony the civilians tried to stage a raid, forcefully trying to gain entrance into this safe haven.

The Turians opened fire in both retaliation and primal fear, massacring almost five hundred people that they were supposed to protect. For nearly eight hours the Turian forces and mere civilians armed with nothing but their fists fought over the control of this safe haven and base of operations. Civilians even built an hastily improvised catapult to gain entrance and break the Turian barricades. Countless dozens organized themselves into a fighting force, using simple sky car doors and other materials as shields.

The fighting was fierce and neither side gave any quarter. The civilians acted like caged animals, backed against a corner with no way out except to force themselves a way out. Eros cursed as another stray shot passed by his head by mere millimeters as muscle memory took action and he literally threw himself flat on his face, crawling into a section of crumbled stone wall that would barely serve as cover. In this battle alone the Turians had suffered casualties up to nearly thirty percent of their assigned forces and they had yet to face the enemy.

"What in the name of Spirits is going on here?! What has happened that made these people so desperate?!" Eros thought as he waved over an radioman who had a badly warped bandage over his head covering his left eye. Blue, dirty blood poured out of numerous wounds. Non fatal but they did their damage on the soldiers morale. The young radioman's eyes were wide in fear and he quivered in an almost unnoticeable way.

Eros gritted his teeth and barked loudly over the deafening sounds of gun fire "Did you get anyone from Invictus command on the radio?" he bellowed, "Have our squads managed to place any of the Com receivers for the spirits-be-damned fire support!?"

The Radioman threw himself to the ground as the iconic whistling of the deadly sand grain sized bullets skittered over the poor soldiers head. The Major growling in frustration grabbed the frightened soldier by his shoulders, pulled him up to eye height and shook him like a madman before yelling, "Did they succeed?!"

The Radioman vigorously shook his head before yelling at the Major in response in blatant fear, "N-no, No Sir!" he replied, "The scouting detail is KIA, We've lost contact with every single squad of Lima Company and Alpha has yet to report in! Sentry squads have gone dark over five minutes ago!"

"Spirits be damned!" Eros cursed as he placed the frightened radioman into the piece of cover before making a mad dash into the inner perimeter of the base of operations which they have dubbed SE-01, or 'at hell's gate' as some soldiers started to call it.

"Another three-hundred...possibly six-hundred dead. Plus or minus two-hundred unaccounted for. We're getting completely butchered here." The Major thought as he breathlessly entered the garage which served as the HQ of Anvil Brigade. Wounded lay every where and Eros had to fight down a bile in his throat at the sight of his mutilated men and women. "I wonder how the rest of the planet looks like? Not any better if this is any indication for the colonies situation."

Suddenly he heard someone frantically yelling his name and he forced his way through the busy soldiers and medics towards the radio center. "Major! The radios hot!" exclaimed an excited Turian soldier, a Corporal, newly 'promoted'.

The Major quickly composed himself and gave the soldier a grateful nod as he strode over to the radio post. "Alpha did it, I don't know how, but they did it! However we should make this count and quick, we are unsure how long it'll hold." the Corporal said his tone quickly turning somber.

An ominous, bad feeling arose within Eros as he warily asked "Right, Alpha's status?"

"Dismal." the Corporal reported as if shot out of a gun. "Half of their company has been wiped out by unknown enemies and... they have made teamed up with Anvil Hammer. Or what's left of them anyway." the soldier muttered lowly at the end.

Making no further comment aside from grumbling disapprovingly before he stood over the radio and opened the frequency to Invictus HighCOM. The sight that greeted him did nothing to soothe his already strained and dare he say it panicked feelings.

A tired and emotionally drained Governor-General Natal Vakarian was on the other side of the Com. Things must be bad to get the Old Man out of his element. "Anvil, you are a sight to a set of very sore eyes, do you know that? What's your situation on the ground, commander?"

The Major collected himself and swiftly responded "Rioters have us surrounded. They are like savage, desperate animals sir! We lost almost fifty percent of Anvil Actual Forces. We have managed to secure over twenty-three hundred civilian refugees but they are close to panicking and if we have to fight them to you'll only find our remaining tags sir. NO, I repeat No, contact with any hostile forces suspected inside the city. Requesting permission to retreat."

"Granted. Take as many civilians as you can. FOB 0-3 will punch a hole through the enemy lines at the east and make you a path with artillery and air support. Alpha and the rest of Anvil Hammer will cover your exit. Once link up has been made pull back to this location. We are digging in gentleman. I have updated your omni-tool. Spirits be with you." Natal spoke with an air of confidence and purpose. That slightly helped the Major's morale and he ended the transmission with an muttered "May the Spirits be with us all, General."

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Everything had gone so smoothly for the XCOM Black Ops. Invictus was burning, the Chryssalids were slaughtering Turians, The prisoner was secured at the construction site and there had been some evidence to suggest that A radical group in the Citadel races had created this catastrophe for some unknown cause. All that had been left for the Wolfpack had been the rendezvous and evacuation from the planet before they got caught or killed.

The Rendezvous point was set up just outside the capital. With the power to the Anti-Aircraft turrents cut by the initial explosions there was no risk of getting shot down during the evac. The original plan had been for the Wolfpack and prisoner to leave the city at the height of the outbreak by seizing control of a shuttle, using the chaos to cover their escape as just another evacuation vessel. However recovering the prisoner had been made several times more complicated when they discovered her fighting against a red clad Asari. The corpses of several Chryssalids lay around them, crushed by debris or ripped apart with biotics. Construction material was scattered around in deformed piles, damaged from being thrown about or used as weapons no doubt.

Beltway paused, displaying a previously unknown love for blue alien women based cat fights, "Who the hell is that?" he asked, watching as the prisoner was flung into a wall. Noticeable dents beside her point of impact would suggest that it hadn't been the first time.

Spectre aimed his rifle at the attacking stranger, the stolen Devlon rifle pointing at her legs, "Say the word Lupo." the sniper stated. Their prisoner had slumped against the wall and had conjured a weak and transparent barrier to shield herself from further attacks. The red clad Asari flared her biotics, no doubt preparing to overwhelm the defensive barrier and kill the prisoner.

Lupo drew her own pistol, and fired two warning shots between the two. The Wolfpack kept their weapons cocked and ready to shoot the first blue bitch that moved. Hidden behind her Quarian mask, Lupo frowned, unexpected developments like this usually had an aggravating reason behind it. "Who are you?" she asked.

The red clad Asari stood up straight, but the Wolfpack's keen eyes could see she was still tense enough to lunge at their prisoner, "My name is Samara, a servant of the Justicar code. My quarrel is with my daughter, but I see six well armed strangers before me."

Beltway lowered his gun slightly, his head tilted slightly to the side, "Daughter...?" He raised his gun and would have shot at her if Bertha had not chosen that moment to grab the end of the gun and give him a questioning glare.
Lupo didn't look at her squad, instead choosing to keep her eyes on the newer Asari. "What does a Justicar want with our prisoner?" she questioned, finger still on the trigger.

"This Ardat-Yakshi is a fugitive who has committed numerous crimes across the galaxy. She must be executed." Samara stated bluntly. "She kills all who she mates with and is suspected of hundreds of murders on dozens of worlds."

Lupo sighed, rolling her eyes behind her mask, "I don't suppose the fact that we intend to kill her after we take what we want from her would be enough to let her go?"

Samara stared at Lupo, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, "Who are you. Your legs are that of Asari, yet you lack knowledge of what I am. You wear Quarian garb, yet are not of their people." Samara unholstered a rifle from her back, aiming it at her injured daughter but keeping her eyes on the Wolfpack. A biotic charge up began to bloom in her off-hand, the energy brightening as she prepared to defend herself.

"That's not your concern Justicar. We will take our prisoner and leave, whether you like it or not." Lupo replied, gesturing to Spectre, "Kill her." She commanded.

Samara had no time to pull the trigger before a bullet from Spectre's rifle knocked the rifle wide, the assault rifle barrage of rounds forced to go off target. Vector rushed at the Justicar in an instant, knife and pistol in hand. The Monomolecular edge blade aiming for the Asari's heaving chest. Before Samara could feel the cold bite of Vector's thrust, she erupted in the dark blue flair of biotics, launching the blade wielding assassin aside and wrapping herself in a defensive barrier. The Prisoner took the opportunity to survive, running to the Wolfpack, and ducking behind cover with them.

"Fucking space magic..."Beltway muttered, spraying the alien woman with a swarm of mass accelerator rounds. The stolen projectile weapon's ammo bounced aside, easily deflected by the combination of military grade shields and Asari barrier techniques. "Remind me again, why the hell couldn't I bring my baby?"

"Quit your bitching Beltway!" Bertha yelled, dodging the remains of a blue glowing dumpster that had been hurled at her, the scrapped container missed by inches. "There is more important issues at hand than your love for an antique scatter laser rifle!"

The Justicar moved quickly, ducking and dodging constantly. The constant evasive maneuvers supplying her with plenty of debris based ammo and cover. Without a direct line of sight the Wolfpack couldn't guarantee their psionics would hit properly, unfortunately biotics didn't have that issue. The Justicar would fling anything and everything around her that was not tied down at them. Behind the XCOM soldiers, the prisoner was performing some emergency first aid with the help of Four-eyes. Torn strips of cloth and some metal rods were converted into a makeshift splint for the wounded Asari's broken left arm.

A beeping from Four-eyes wrist interrupted the stalemate. The field scientist checked her gauntlet computer, typing in several commands a minute."Another group of the Chryssalids is approaching! Judging from the pheromone output they've caught the scent of the Asari. If we're going to get the prisoner out of here alive, we have to go now Lupo!"

Lupo nodded, "Beltway, plasma blast. Vector get the air-car. Spectre, put her down. Bertha, Four-eyes blow the base! We're leaving!"

"About fucking time!" Beltway claimed, tearing an Alliance grenade belt from a side pouch, "I'm gonna enjoy this you bitch!" He proclaimed, ripping the pins out and tossing the belt at the Justicar.

The Asari grabbed the bomb pack with her biotics, her eyes widening in surprise when the belt erupted with a cascading emerald flame. The force of the explosion slammed against her biotic barriers with astounding force and launched her skyward, skidding off of several roofs before coming to rest in a smoking heap several buildings away.

Spectre looked at Beltway, and the bomber knew the sniper was looking at him with a questioning gaze. "What?" Beltway defended, "Lupo told me to!"

"It was...Overkill." Spectre replied, slowly.

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Back in Invictus HighCOM Natal shook his head and turned to his XO Tarkan Vintus. The Governor-General's voice was rough, like dust covered gravel, "XO, mark Anvil brigade as pending. And give Sky Marshall Arierius the go word. Shastinasio is now a free fire zone in exactly two hours. Authorization for over-horizon missiles granted. Once we have raised the city's defenses and locked the enemy inside that town I want it erased from this very planet."

The XO saluted before asking uncertainly "Sir? I thought we were going to pull this one out of the fire."

"Look around you Vintus forty percent of our forces have gone dark and half of the population is dead by these things! Now I don't give a shit if it's Shastinasio, Invictus, Palaven or the fucking Citadel! We will burn out this infection until it's is gone from the galaxy! Whatever the cost!"

"Sir!" Vintus replied, visibly and thoroughly chastised.

"Invictus is nothing in face of the other option." A involuntary shiver ran down Natal's spine as he continued with an ice cold, ruthless voice that sent chills down everyone's spine "Just burn it. Just fucking burn it ! Burn it all until it's clean!"

Taking a steadying breath Natal refocused on the map and dearly regretted it almost immediately. More than a third of the planet was blood red in color. Lost territory. Natal thought bitterly as he let his eyes wander over the map taking in the dire situation. Numerous gray areas had been marked. Some ranging from 14.000 km² up to 50- or 100.000 km². These were the areas where even the brass wasn't sure if they had control over it or not. It seemed as if they were actively kept in the dark by some unseen force.

Areas and territories that the Turian forces had control over were marked in blue. Although it was a tad of depressing. To watch these areas shrink ever so slowly, as if a unstoppable flood forced it's way into the lands of Invictus proud people, until inevitably the whole sector was lost.

Anvil brigade was now the ninth brigade to have been their status marked as pending. Five brigades have been confirmed KIA. So that effectively made the losses number over fifty-thousand, nearly more than half of Natal's armed forces.

"And that's not going into detail with the civilian casualties." Natal thought, his mind running a race to come up with an solution to this nightmarish situation. His keen eyes scanned his the map as he realized that the Shastinasio Base was most likely lost. They had been forced to relocate when the new breed of Rachni attacked the base fifteen hours ago. It was a slaughter. Natal honestly couldn't describe it any other way. They had lost more than half of the defense forces of the base. Hundreds were MIA.

It was horrific. Blue, black in color. A set of jaw's strong enough to shatter and rip apart a full grown Krogan. Natal knew because he had seen it. Immediately afterward to the horror of everyone watching it, the Rachni gave out an ear deafening shriek before it bent over the mutilated body and seemingly planted something into the carcass with its fanged mouth. Seconds later the carcass started to shift. It twisted and turned, vicious shifting and internal struggling as if the very body was trying to tear itself apart. Then It started to rise. Never in his life before was Natal more terrified than in that moment. This was the last thing he saw of the nature defying creature before some of his soldiers snapped him out of his daze. He was evacuated out of Shastinasio Base, heading towards the new Invictus HighCOM in the towering mountains of the planet, covering the rear of the smallest spaceport of this colony, Al Turkan private spaceport.

This was the first impression on the enemy and Natal didn't like it one bit. From what he heard from surviving squads and soldiers, mostly the latter who were so traumatized they did nothing else but babble and drooling non stop, that these enemies were a new breed of Rachni. A chilling, awfully terrible thought, that was enough to send lesser men and soldiers into blind panic. Everyone had heard of the horrors of the Rachni war, but to see it first hand surpasses everything. This breed of Rachni reproduces themselves from the dead of his own soldiers and people. The more they killed , the more of these Rachni appeared. They festered upon the very essence of life it self. An seemingly endless resource of reinforcements.

Realizing that containment would fail eventually Natal and his subordinate officers agreed upon the strategy of scorched earth. Massive artillery and air barrages upon designated 'Free Fire Zones'. Two major protection zones would be created. One would be the spaceport and the other would be the mountain range were Invictus High Command was located. Their main objective would be the focus of evacuation of the civilians. Due to lack of spaceflight capable ships the time it would take to properly evacuate the colony and it's remaining citizens would take five weeks. Military advisers estimated that the military could only hold out against such an force for ony little more than three days. Probably less. The hard part was to tell this plan to his soldiers, as Natal feared their reactions. It could very much likely shatter what morale they had left.

"Listen up people, we are digging in. Here are your new orders: Establishment of defensive perimeters at the mountain range and the spaceport. Our Goal, is the evacuation civilians." He paused, drawing in a deep breath, it would hurt to say this next part, "That's right we are retreating. Free Fire Zones will be designated as we speak and the Impending Justice will give us what support she can give. All we have to do is to hold our ground and ensure the safety of our friends and families so that they can escape these monsters. Because if we fail, our children, wives, brothers and sisters will have to face a fate worse than death. We shall not allow this! The resurfacing of the Rachni threat most be reported to the Council so that others may live."

The officers dutifully returned back to their posts but Natal noticed their slumped shoulders and sagged features. The morale was failing already. This was not good. Tiredly Natal massaged his temples before shouting after his XO and spoke in an authoritative tone "Vintus, I want the Spec Ops detail from the Vindinos unit on their way to extract High Value Individuals across the planet. One of these Persons is my family." Natal finished with an grave voice he could not keep in check revealing his troubled emotions to the XO.

Vintus nodded sympathetically and went right on the task relaying the orders to one of the Turians most finest Special Forces Groups they have. With an detail of two hundred men on Invictus, these soldiers were the best of the best Natal currently had. Established by the legendary Guard Captain Vinidons, the Special Forces unit nicknamed 'The Guard' had distinguished themselves in the campaign against separatist on the planet Taetrus. The Guard forces on planet were led by one Lieutenant Talus Marius, a capable war veteran and cunning tactician. He had no idea that this, would be the most difficult mission in his life.

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A drifting Alliance fighter held orbit over the burning soil of the planet, observing the chaos and tragedy of Invictus.

The Thunderstrike was a custom model infiltration fighter, the pinnacle of both XCOM and Alliance R&D. The ship was made entirely out of Ethereal alloy and infused with every stealth technology humanity had to offer. It was always held in reserve and only one pilot was allowed to use the vessel. The XCOM Commander's personal assassin.

During the Ethereal war there had been times when members of the human race had betrayed their fellow man for the wrong reasons. Money, power, technology, dreams of conquest. Whatever the cause they had to be captured or eliminated for humanity's greater good. When the military and police of the time would refuse, XCOM needed an answer. By the Authority granted to them at the time, a squad was created for the purpose of infiltrating and securing any human target. The Inquisitors.

After the war had ended, the unit was no longer needed, and their thinning numbers were never replenished. Eventually the last member died, and the unit was forgotten for a short time. When the discoveries on Mars were made, and the knowledge of the indoctrination techniques of the reapers learned, the unit was reactivated with a new purpose. With the Prothean data, human scientists knew that indoctrination would effect any and all organics given enough time or power behind it. However a synthetic brain was more than capable of rebuffing the mind altering signal.

Thus the top scientists humanity had to offer began the SESSER Project. The creation of the ultimate anti-psychic cybernetic synthetic super-soldier. Several different styles were designed, everything from androids to giant shielded combat chassis. All sorts of weapon combinations and part configurations. Combination after combination was tried, created, and tested. From the designs, dozens of new and powerful weapons were created, but the dream of the greatest man made soldier eluded many.

It was thanks to XCOM's Doctor Kevin Sebastian Knives that the project bore fruit after decades of failure. Instead of creating an artificial intelligence or making a battle robot of ridiculous scale they would start with a human brain. MEC soldiers were invulnerable to death by old age, their bodies preserved by the machines fused to their flesh. The eldest of them volunteered for the devilish doctor's designs. The volunteer had his brain removed and the very essence of him torn from the mush of aged gray matter to create a perfect intelligence. The hell-spawned procedure took, converting humanity's black knight into a truly peerless, ageless weapon.

The Inquisitor, as he came to be known, was reborn into a synthetic body. His endless strength was limited only by the durability of his body. His supernatural speed limited only by thought. At the cost of his name and identity, he was blessed with a body immune to age, disease, or fatigue. Unbound by the limitations of mortal flesh, the Inquisitor learned, copying all of humanity's knowledge within his synthetic brain. Thousands of styles and techniques made by mortal man was infused within his unfeeling metal frame. Swords, guns, bows, cannons, fists, if it was used by man to kill the Inquisitor knew every way to continue the macabre work.

The purpose of the Inquisitor was several-fold: assassin, infiltration specialist, one-man-army. The Inquisitor's purpose on Invictus was similar to the Wolfpack. The XCOM black ops would release the outbreak in the cities, the Inquisitor would hijack the Turian's military database. The data on Turian weapons, communications and designs could turn a long and bloody war into a killing spree.

The Inquisitor's Thunderstrike, held its position above the darkened skies of Invictus. The machine observed the swarm of Chryssalids as it grew and matured, saturating the planet with the unnatural blood lust of millions of created killers. It watched the progress of the Alpha, Beta, and Gamma teams. Each team was moving as ordered. It wouldn't do to have such promising soldiers turn rogue, the Inquisitor had already disposed of several other rogue XCOM members before.

When the outbreak reached it's peak the Inquisitor activated it's combat chassis, transferring its mind from the Thunderstrike. The Chassis twitched slightly as the cybernetic possession occurred. The body stood slowly, flexing its humanoid form slightly to estimate its abilities. The right arm of the homunculus twisted and opened its palm, the pale silver-white skin that covered the form shifted into a flowing sand like substance, momentarily revealing the Ethereal alloy skeleton beneath it. The metal sand reformed into a long thin sword in the synthetic hand. the casual observer would think that such a thin blade could do little more than shatter, any machine that scanned the blade would find its monomolecular edge to be sturdy enough to cleave through the hull of an Alliance dreadnought without even the tiniest hint of resistance.

The Inquisitor performed several flawless stances, swinging the blade as an extension of itself. The whirling blade evading several ship components by molecules at its master's command. Self calibrations complete, the Inquisitor sent a command to the ship activating a drop pod. The Inquisitor climbed aboard and launched itself to the dying planet below.

There was work to be done.

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High up in the sky hovered a lone Turian frigate, the Impending Justice. Flying proudly over the planet, the ship followed her orders, raining continuous fire onto the planet. Sky Marshall Arierius stood over the bridge, the crew continuously adjusting as they received a new firing direction seemingly every second. . Arierius would never admit it, but his frigate and his crew were showing first signs of fatigue. They hadn't rested for a single minute after launch. Shell after shell. Missile after missile. Three times the Impending Justice had gone back to base just to rearm themselves after they had yet again run out of ammunition.

"Sir, several crafts are reported to try and leave the planet, possibly smugglers." Said one of his officer with resentment and hate clearly visible on his face. "Get a second echolon on the chase and shot them down. No one leaves this planet without permission from Invictus Command."

The Officer snapped to attention and returned to his post with an grin on his face ready to execute his orders. Arierius shook his head in dismay at the overzealous young, naïve officer. He was cut short by his musing when his omni-tool blinked up alerting him to new orders. Warily he opened the file and his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets.

For the first time in his life Arierius hesitated. Quickly, before any of his subordinates could catch his stupefaction he barked at his crew. "Alright pack it up, all firing missions are to be disengaged and all weapons are to be loaded incendiary rounds. Safeties on over-horizon missiles are to be taken off. We have a new firing order. Shastinasio is gone. Gunners coordinate with ground forces and artillery positions to maximize the effect on target."

"Sir, scans show civilians and our very own forces out there. Is command authorizing friendly fire?!" asked a young ensign in sheer disbelief, stuttering in fear.

"Orders are orders now get it done." barked Arierius clamping his hands behind his back and silently prayed to the spirits above to forgive him for his sins.

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Beltway's mind was a mess. He had come out of the meld with the Asari, "Morinth" he mentally reinforced, with more than he had said. He had become compromised in more ways than one. When psychic powers became common place in humans many people tested their new abilities to see just what they could do. Eventually the power to meld minds together was discovered and soon used by couples to an extent that was unforeseen, an entire merging of memories and personality. Within an instant two people could truly become one person, not only learning but embarrassing everything about the other. Learning their traits, desires, skills. Everything. Being so radically different from the military grade surface meld, it was considered the greatest act of intimacy between two people in every culture, a sign of absolute love and devotion.

And now Beltway had performed a 'marriage meld' with an alien succubus. If his mother didn't think he was dead, she would kill him.

The four-hundred years of Morinth's life ran rampant in Beltway's brain. Memories of life as an Asari threatened to overwhelm him in ways never considered by any telepath before. During a normal merge there was never enough of an age difference to properly judge what would happen when a merge occurred between two people with a significant age difference. Beltway knew, and he didn't like it.

Constant visions and recollections of Morinth tore at his senses, thoughts that were not his own were bleeding into his mind at an unsteadily increasing pace. The demolitions expert caught himself attempting biotic techniques, his subconscious mind rebelling while his conscious mind denied. He found himself repeating several motions or habits that were not his own. Small gestures, a way of moving more consistent with someone who was not a six foot tall muscle loaded human.

Even worse was the urge to keep looking at Morinth. Before the merge the thought off all things alien repulsed him on every level. Now he kept making the odd look that would be more suitable to a school yard crush than a war-torn soldier. Yet still his body reacted, his eyes running over every curve of her any time she was not looking at him. Worse still, was that she was arousing him! The notion that he would get turned on by an alien was nauseating, but that fact that it was her made it all seem better. That notion terrified him.

The fact that Morinth was showing similar signs fascinated Four-eyes and Bertha, but sent a chill of unease into Beltway's gene-augmented bones. XCOM protocol was all to clear. In the field, all psi compromised subjects are to be executed if they cannot be cured or recovered. In the event that this Asari mind-fuck screwed him up too badly there was no doubt in Beltway's mind that Lupo would put him down.

Morinth's thoughts in his head almost made him ask for the bullet.

Morinth's thoughts at the moment were similar to Beltway's. The appearance of her mother complicated things on several fronts. Any Justicar was bad enough, but Samara had a hard on for her daughter... "Goddess damn beltway and his thoughts!" Morinth cursed in her head.

Where her thoughts plagued Beltway from the amount forced into her head, Beltway's essence plagued her due to the sheer mental strength behind them. Already many aspects of her personality had been overwritten by what she had stolen from the mad bomber. Just as Beltway tried to hide the fact he was subconsciously attempting to activate the biotics he lacked, Morinth kept reaching for a pistol or rifle that wasn't there. The phantom sensations of Beltway's movements were rapidly consuming her, the mental shadow of her one time lover piloting her body from within.

When her mother had attacked, she had fought like an XCOM soldier from the start, rushing in with fists just as Beltway had been trained. Her mother's millennium of knowledge in Asari combat was no match for the brutality of a humanity's close quarters combat styles. The biotic powers of the hated Justicar was enough to remove that advantage. The XCOM training continued to serve her well. The years of mental training Beltway had endured as a Volunteer class Psi-operative amplified Morinth's biotic power, no longer did the Ardat Yakshi need to use the gestures her training demanded. Instead the biotics flared to life at a thought and bowed to her will in an instant.

When the Wolfpack arrived to transport her, she nearly gave into panic when she couldn't feel their minds connected with her. Beltway's long standing habit of melding with teammates on the battlefield had nearly cost her life when it allowed her mother to slam her into a wall. When she ducked behind the squad she reached again for a gun that wasn't there.

Beltway's thoughts were swiftly becoming annoying. It was fortunate that they had already been evacuated, or Morinth was sure the constant mental strugle against the forign thoughts would end with her demise.

Morinth lay back in the Stealth ship's brig, taking comfort that while she was a prisoner at the very least her mother was dead.

Lupo stood just outside Morinth's line of sight, a gun in hand, pointed at the Prisoner.

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When he was still semi-human the Inquisitor had decimated the enemies of humanity using his MEC armor. Gatling guns, flamethrowers, grenade launchers, electromagnetic wave generators, railguns. All tasted the blood of the Ethereal scum. It was glorious, but unfulfilled. The weapons too impersonal, their effects far too devastating. You couldn't watch the life drain from a Muton's eyes if he was melted by Elerium fueled flame. You can't see the look of horror on a Ethereal when it was taken by surprise with a plasma grenade. It was just unsatisfying.

Yet now the Inquisitor felt fulfilled. It discovered new joy in it's eternal life, holding a Turian aloft. The metallic skinned alien struggled and thrashed as the Inquisitor examined its new pray. Around them the slashed and severed corpses of the Turian kin lay dead, the blue blood still flowing freely from the quickly cooling remains. The outpost the Inquisitor had landed in was on the direct opposite of the Planet's capital, and far enough away that the Chryssalids had yet to spread to it. The Inquisitor didn't care for the outbreak, only that its mission was accomplished.

The Inquisitor's eyes examined his still writhing victim. The musculature, the skeletal structure, the tendons, the eyes, dissecting the prey on the spot. The Turian screamed in pain but was ignored by the still working assassin. Obtaining knowledge was difficult, and how else was it supposed to learn the extent of a Turian's senses except by testing them. Pain threshold, distance for visibility, hearing range, sense of smell. All these things had to be tested in a hurry. It was rather unfortunate that such field testing in a war zone was extremely painful, invasive, and had probably driven the impaled Turian mad from the torture. Alas, such was the cost of progress.

With the desired knowledge acquired, the Inquisitor withdrew its essence from the Turian, silver streams of nanomachines returning to the host body along with the data. The Turian shuddered, twitched, and tried to heave as its body struggled to recover from being violated on every level. The fact that the Turian survived the physical trauma at all was a sign of how resilient their species were. To the Inquisitor it was just another reason all Turians needed to be purged. Anything that could serve as a threat to humanity needed to be removed.

The Inquisitor's sword pierced the Turian's right eye like a needle, and entered the brain just as easily. The Turian twitched again, and the Inquisitor twisted the blade.

Another squad of Turians arrived, aiming their rifles at the bipedal silver slayer. "Drop the weapon!" one brave, soon to be dead, Turian commanded. Three other Turians stood beside the speaker. One female, a new sample. The Inquisitor turned to its new prey, merging the sword with its flesh. The Inquisitor lacked data on Turian close combat tactics, such an oversight would need to be corrected...

The metal man rushed his targets, silver sand tendrils lashing out, tearing into their guns and rendering useless. The Inquisitor's arms lashed out, striking the Turians in their chests and knocking them aside. Web like crack patterns formed at the point of the Inquisitor's attacks.

A heartier example of Turian physique was the first to stand, completely ignoring the damage to his armor. The soldier launched what would be a textbook haymaker at the Inquisitor's face. The impact was negligible, the damage would barely harm the average Alliance solder and was absolutely infective on the Inquisitor's metal body. The Inquisitor reacted by grabbing the Turian's head, and squeezed. The Turian had two seconds to scream before his head caved in under the pressure. The pink brain matter spewed from the remains and splattered over the slain fighter's team.

A female Turian screamed, the Inquisitor's sensors told it that she had lost the will to fight entirely. Seeing no more use in allowing her to live, The Inquisitor impaled her with its right arm, driving the limb into the Turian equivalent to the human heart. Shreds of the ruined organ clung to the Inquisitor, still trying to pump the dark blue blood in vein. Nanomachines dripped into her dying body, based on data acquired from previously slain Turians the female would be in a state of mind breaking pain at that point.

The Inquisitor removed its arm in time to grab an offending wrist from another male, who had clamped its wrists together in a form similar to a hammer fist. The Inquisitor spun swiftly its spine twisting an impossible three-hundred and sixty degrees before slamming the Turian into the ground with a heavy centrifugal force. The impact caved in the already cracked armor, the form fitting material becoming flat and severely dented. Drops of blood were coughed out of the victim's mouth, his mandibles parting with pain and surprise.

The final Turian was in a state of panic, an unfit subject for testing. His life was ended with a snap kick that tore his head from his shoulders. The Inquisitor retrieved the nanomachines from the female and scanned the area, there were several more groups of Turians on base.

There was so much testing to do, so many objectives to complete, and so little time. The Inquisitor was disappointed. It had hoped there would be a challenge to breaking into a Turian base. The outbreak had turned any source of authority into a buffet for the flood of genetically modified monsters. What few pockets of resistance left were little more than traumatized, terrified fools that died too quickly. Lacking proper guards, the normally 'impenetrable' security was non-existent, all the electronic locks easily disabled by the Inquisitor's superior technology.

The mission would be complete within the hour.

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Lieutenant Talus Marius marched towards the helipad where the rest of his unit had already entered their transports. Dust and smoke arose from the ground and illuminated intimidating awe inspiring figures. All dressed in HAZMAT suits standing tall and proud as their commander came closer to their position. Mighty guns hung from their bodies as many soldiers checked them over one last time. They entered their designated craft in perfect order.

Silent and professional.

Talus couldn't be more proud of his men. Hovering mere feet above the ground Talus nimbly jumped into the wide open side doors of the shuttle. Taking his seat beside the squads machine gunner Talus cast one last look at the base, catching sight of a critically damaged transport out of the corner of his eye, before nodding towards his second in command who gave the pilot the all clear. The doors closed on all the twenty transport ships, each carrying a squad numbering in ten of the most distinguished Turian Soldiers on the planet and took off to the respective destination.

Talus opened his company wide radio frequency and spoke in an utterly calm, professional voice "Gentlemen, as you remember our briefing, Invictus has become victim of an devastating terrorist attack. The situation on the planet is dismal and the General decided to cut our losses and haul ass off of this damned rock. Women and children first as we all know. Our mission is to ex-filtrate numerous persons of interest. Family members of Turian elite and the general staff. We have twenty targets, people in and out. Keep them safe and all of this will be over by breakfast. A Guards eye is always vigilant." Talus ended the last minute briefing of his company with the motto of the unit which was being muttered silently by every single member of the company like a silent prayer.

A few ships drifted off into different directions all over the planet however the majority, thirteen ships, headed towards the doomed Capital. Since Coms had failed in the early stages of the attacks and all previous rescue attempts have supposedly failed, the Guard was finally being sent in. Two hours after the city has been declared a free fire zone. No one knew where up and down at the point. Talus mentally went over the plan in his head one last time. Talus job was to ex-filtrate the family of Natal Vakarian located in the middle of the city within the red zone. The Free fire order had been lifted for the duration of this OP, but only for two hours after that the shelling would mercilessly continue.

Many of the Turian Elite probably knew that their families were dead, most just wanted some sort of closure. Some even held hope. Talus snorted just as the UT-11 Shuttle he was in shook violently and tiny bullet holes appeared in the interior of the transport. A bloodied shriek alerted Talus that one of his man had most likely been hit. True to his thoughts, a young Sergeant, struggled in his seat. Trying to seal his wound and cursing like a sailor. Blue blood bleeding profusely out of this gritty wound.

In that very moment, Talus radio exploded with countless reports from his company. His eyes widened has he heard the screams, barks of orders, explosions and the whistling of gunfire.

"MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!"

"WE'RE TAKING FIRE! HEAVY AAA FIRE!"

"INCOMING! IT IS MELTING OUR SHIP!"

"WE LOST GOS SIX! I REPEAT GOS SIX IS DOWN!"

"MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY THIS IS...(static)"

All of this seemingly happened in parallel world to Talus. It was so surreal. Time seemed to crawl. The squads medic forced his way towards the wounded Sergeant. The shuttle shook to the left and right, yanking up and down so sharply that some men were being thrown out of their seats and literally flew across the cargo hold of the transport like rag-dolls.

Talus had only time to blink as the back of one fellow soldier smashed right into his face. He grunted as he tried to protect his head with his arms, as his vision exploded into billions of stars and smoke. Muffled noise reached his ears, blood red fog covered his vision. The brave Lieutenant shook his head and suddenly heard the iconic noise of the cargo hold door being opened. With great effort, Talus leaned over as countless bullets shot through the air missing him by a hair.

Relief flooded his body as he realized that they hadn't crashed and that the shuttle was somewhat still active.

His radio once again burst into life and Talus heard the panic voice of the pilot yelling "ROPES! ROPES! ROPES! Can't hold this position much longer!"

Inwardly nodding to himself and regaining his composure Talus turned to his battered squad and mentioned with his hands "FAST ROPES! GO, GO, GO!" The squad gathered their wits and began to clink their emergency ropes on the ship and descended into the nightmarish city that was consumed by an otherworldly evil.

Talus was the last to sail down to the ground when his world went black. Mixed images plagued his minds eye. A bright explosion. Melted metal and flesh falling down to the earth. The bloodied desecrated ground coming ever closer.

The soldiers looked in shock at the fallen body of their Lieutenant as shrapnel of the destroyed shuttle high above them, rained over their position. Pieces of the cockpit crashed into a nearby building setting it aflame.

"Get the Lieutenant outta here!" Shouted Master Sergeant Quirus, the second in command of the squad, as he checked for any targets in the area, ready to take them out in a moments notice.

Quickly checking his HUD, Quirus sighed in relief to see that the vitals of the Lieutenant were still green.

Hurriedly the Special Forces soldiers entered a torn open apartment. From the original ten squad members only six were still alive with the Lieutenant included.

"How far away from our objective are we?" Quirus asked as he checked the Lieutenant how luckily was coming around rather quickly.

"About four kilometers up north." muttered a fellow Sergeant who was on sentry duty watching for any hostile activity.

"Terrorists sir?!" asked a corporal checking another wounded soldier, only for the said soldier to slowly fall limp. "FUCK!" cursed the corporal as he savagely threw a used up med kit into a dark corner.

"Give the Lieutenant some adrenaline so he can get back up his feet." Quirus ordered a nearby soldier.

Talus felt how he was slowly pulled out of an seemingly endless abyss and with terrible great effort he managed to pry open his eyes. Gathered around him were the surviving members of his squad. A painful pang shot through his heart and felt incredible guilt enveloping his mind.

With an pained grunt and the assistance of two of his fellow soldiers the Lieutenant shakily stood up on both of his legs as he scanned the masked faces of his comrades before stopping at the Master Sergeant.

"Status report?" the Lieutenant whispered hoarsely.

"Gos six has been confirmed destroyed along with Sierra squad it was carrying. Other confirmed KIA squads are Kippala, Echo, Fargon, Lima, Black and Tremor. Interference is not allowing us to contact with the other squads or survivors. We are currently four kilometers away from our target."

The Lieutenant nodded and internally cursed viciously to himself. How could this mission go so wrong?

"Alright lets head for the objective we can't waste anymore time. Double time!" the bitter tone from the Lieutenant was not missed by the others but they knew what they had to do. Not wasting any second they remaining Squad moved out of the apartment and hurried their way towards a tall burning tower. Their target was there. And they had a mission to complete.

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Samara was normally cold, calm, and calculating. Her training as a Justicar had taught her to stay composed in even the most hectic situations. The code she followed had been refined and adapted to account for almost every situation that a traveling Justicar could encounter. However, the Code never accounted for what should be done during such a terrifying extinction event.

Terrifying bug-like creatures were roaming the planet killing indiscriminately, cities were burning, and people were dying and looting in the chaos. Such wide spread panic and chaos were not accounted for in the code. There was too much violence, too much killing, and too much evil. So much the code did not account for. It was madness, the darkness beneath society unleashed in one cataclysmic outburst.

The disguised people that guarded Morinth moved with military precision, could fit into the clothes of a Quarian, and used high powered explosives. The only people that Samara knew of that could match such a simple criteria were Asari. Either high class Asari mercenaries or commandos. No other species Samara knew of had the leg shape of the disguised ones, and could wear Quarian suits. Samara grasped at the only thought that would make sense, someone of power in the Asari people wanted her daughter for an unknown cause.

The infiltrators were framing the Quarian people for their crimes. If deeper digging occurred, the intelligent races of the Galaxy would debunk that belief by looking at the legs of the infiltrators closely. They wore long flowing garb that covered their legs, but close inspection would give it away quickly. However, if survivors of the outbreak were to spread word that Quarians were spotted aiding in the slaughter, the galaxy would rise up and commit to a mass genocide the Quarian people would never endure.

Morinth was a plague amongst the galaxy, but only a minor illness. The monsters unleashed and the masters behind it could easy become a civil war that would tear the Citadel races apart. Samara held no love for one people over another, but this could easily result in the loss of more worlds if something did not stop the looming massacres.

A bloodthirsty scream tore Samara from her thoughts. More of the monstrosities had found her.

With strength provided by the Goddess herself, The Justicar stood upon her shaking feet. Her ribs screamed from the movement, her left eye was nothing more than a blur and pain. Samara clenched her teeth and fists, calling upon her biotics as the monsters approached. She would survive this hell and warn the people of what she had learned, the code demanded her to do no less.

As the noble Asari plotted to stop them, the Wolfpack roamed.

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"General Natal! Major Tamos has reported in they have suffered heavy losses but managed to link up with the remains of Alpha Company and Anvil Hammer AND they have successfully reached a safe distance. But sir there is also something else."

Natal didn't like the sound of it. His XO almost sounded...angry. And that was something very rare for the young officer. A feeling of dread arose in him and Natal asked "What is it?"

"The Terrorists sir! They're Quarians!"

Seconds passed as Natals mind tried to process this piece of information. "Come again?!" Natal whispered as he dragged the XO into an elevator and pressed the emergency stop button.

Instead of replying with words Vintus pulled out his omni-tool pushed a few buttons and let a video play.

Natal's eyes widened to almost cartoon-like lengths as he witnessed how a female Quarian silently crept through a kids toy shop and pulled out a round device and gently rolled across the room right in front of an Batarian child.

Vomit started to rise within Natal as he witnessed the effects of these attacks. It didn't stop there, numerous other videos were shown were Quarians would throw a grenade like device or detonate large bombs. Then Natal saw video footage out of the helmet camera of an Turian soldier. Rachni like beast were every where, numbering by the thousands. Men and Women get ripped apart or melted to their bones by a bile of acid these things are hurling against his units, only to rise again and join the Rachni beasts as undead creatures.

One Rachni beast was torn apart by gunfire and emitted a dark green smog enveloping the poor Turian soldiers almost immediately they all fell to the ground, writhing in sheer agony. And within all of this carnage stood a group of armed Quarians completely unharmed, aiding, these monstrosities and even ordering them around.

Then the video changed to Quarian woman. She had a perfect hourglass figure and Natal had to admit she was attractive example of her species. One hand was on her hip, the other held a normal pistol that was commonly used by the police or armed forces on many Citadel worlds. In front of her was a battered Turian bound by arms and legs, shivering in fear. Numerous wounds covered the captive, common signs of intense interrogation and merciless torture.

Behind the Quarian woman stood two of the terrifying Rachni creatures. Venom dripped from their fangs, their crooked fingers grasped at air in desperate hunger. Their glowing yellow eyes remained locked upon the Turian before them.

"Three hundred years ago we were involuntarily chased away from our home world." Explained the Quarian woman. Her voice steady, strong, but stiff as if it had been rehearsed. "Billions of Quarian Men, Women and Children were killed or stranded in space. Foolishly our once proud people turned towards the exalted Citadel Council, the self-proclaimed light of the galaxy seeking rightful help. Yet we were cast aside!" She hissed with an age old venom.

"Shunned and humiliated we were not even allowed to establish a colony, that could become a safe home for generations to come. The Citadel says we don't deserve peace, wealth or prosperity. Just we are the guilty of unleashing the Geth upon the galaxy. A threat that has yet to be seen beyond the Perseus Veil!" The female proclaimed with great passion and greater anger.

"In the time of the Quarian's greatest need, across the galaxy, our supposed allies betrayed us and now seek to exploit our weakness! For three centuries we were deliberately oppressed, discriminated! But no more!" She cried out with vigor, "The bigotry and hypocrisy of the Council ends on this very day. We will no longer allow our innocent children, who are being sent on a pilgrimage, to submit to being viciously raped and brutally murdered by your 'civilized' people while the council does nothing. We will no longer let our families die a poor pitiful death, being taken by Batarian slavers or suffocate in our life-ships when our systems die out. This is to give a rightful home we deserve to our families and children!"

"I say we must arise from the ashes and strike forward, taking the fight to both our foes and our betrayers! The Turians, Batarians, Asari and the Salarians." she spat out the name of each race like a curse upon existence itself, "Those who thought they could profit from our dire situation and tried in vain to suppress our will, they will see the consequences of their actions soon enough. The destruction of Invictus is merely the beginning of our great revival. Rise my fellow Quarians! Rise with us and let us show the traitorous Council and villainous the Geth! Show them the iron and steel beneath Quarian flesh. Let us cast them against the unbreakable rock of our collective will. LET THIS BE OUR DAY!" The Quarian female shouted dramatically to the heavens in a state of zealous ecstasy.

Calming herself from the speech, the Quarian female nodded towards the Rachni creature and with an obedient ear drum shattering howl they lunged themselves at the poor Turian captive.

Natal was speechless when the video had ended. His heart thundering in his ribcage. Hoarsely he asked his XO, "How many Quarians have managed to board a evacuation vessel?"

Vintus eyes widened as his mind drew blank. If the Quarians were responsible for this and managed to leave this planet...

Snapping out of his nightmarish haze Natal gripped his XO viciously under the poor mans forearms and shook him like a mad man while shouting "Get Arierus on line and tell him pursue any vessel with an confirmed Quarian on board! Board it immediately or shoot it out of the sky! Don't let a single Quarian board any kind vessel. All Quarians are to be shot on sight! We can't allow a single Quarian to leave and spread this pestilence! DO IT!"

To the survivors of Invictus it seemed as if suddenly someone turned on a switch. Every Turian soldier on the planet started to charge through the caravans of fleeing civilians, picking out the Quarians dragging them screaming and wailing, over to a wall or a ditch and fill them with lead. Soldiers storm vessels that are mere seconds before lift off and kill any Quarians they see. Panic spread throughout entire evacuation efforts and the already fragile evacuation into chaos. Panicked Quarians ran for their lives or returned fire in order to survive the seemingly baseless slaughter by the Turians. Hurt, confused and frightened the Quarians action did not help them to prove their innocence.

Riots broke out and in the midst of all that the Chryssalids drew ever closer towards the few safe havens that were left like an unstoppable flood, hungering for blood. Bombing runs and attilery left the face of Invictus scarred forever as the forward defense lines of the Turians perimeter were overwhelmed by hundreds of thousands of Rachni like creatures.

The main defensive guns soon began to overheat and turned useless as their insides begun to melt away. The Chryssalids did not cease their attacks. They sensed weakness and only became more aggressive, driven by their endless hunger. Howls of the dead and the anguished screams of the dying filled Invictus nighttime sky and served as an example of what is to come.

Death would befall the galaxy with no light at the end of the tunnel.

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"KEEP MOVING!" barked Lieutenant Talus as he and his unit ran through an dark alley, sweating and panting in fear. They could not stop the things would get them.

Risking a glance over his shoulder Talus looked at their pursuers and immediately regretted it. Creatures so terrible and so horrifying they defied every known law in the galaxy. How could such things exist?

They were hybrids of the new Rachni and their unfortunate victims. A lone head, Talus couldn't say if it was an Asari or a Turian or a Batarian, hung limply, sickly so from the long slick and gruesomely neck of the Rachni like creature. Bones and muscles poked out of the skin of the horrific creature. Thousands of teeth, if not an uncountable amount, filled the loose jaw. Arms and feet rigged with flesh tearing razor sharp bones snapped and slashed at the Spec Ops squad as they ran like they were chased by the spirits themselves, desperation encouraging them towards their target.

The street seemingly swayed left and right by the sheer amount of this nightmarish creatures, who howl, grunts and foul curses uttered by an awful guttural language. A soldier in front of Talus whimpered and shrieked as the disembodied horror slowly ever so slowly threatens to drown them in a sea of despair and death.

"Only five hundred meters MOVE!" yelled Quirus ramming through a blockaded door. The howls and ear shattering shrieks only got louder and louder. Pained anguished screams of the dying were audible but everyone knew they could not stop or they would share the unfortunate soul's fate.

Quirus ran through a hallway taking point for the group. With tragic timing he stopped suddenly, that action allowing another unfortunate soldier to smash into his back, only to get clawed to death by one of these horrible creatures. Quirus' body was sent flying through the air crashing, against a wall as another of the unspeakable creatures burst through a window and whisked the crying, struggling soldier into the shadows. Unseen the monster fed, serenaded by the anguished, pained, dying screams.

"FUCK!" cursed Talus as he jumped over the creature feeding on a Turian private and rushed down the hall.

The door at the end of the hall suddenly, slowly began to open and Talus called upon his last remaining strength as he sprinted towards his Elysium.

The foul stench and breath of his hunters on his neck. Talus felt sharp edged claws tear through his HAZMAT suit just as he throws himself into the room. The door thankfully closes by itself leaving the bloodthirsty maniacal creatures outside hammering in sheer insanity against the iron door.

"Are you alright sir?!" ask a young frightened voice of an child. Talus barely manages to look towards the source of the voice, to see a small male Turian child, hugging their fluffy Hanar toy.

Catching his breath Talus shakily stands up, his limbs shaking and sweating bullets.

"Fine. Gimme a minute." Talus panted as he choked back a coughing fit which would've likely led to him vomiting into his HAZMAT suit.

Releasing a steadying breath Talus looked at the child and recognized him from the briefing. He was one of the persons that they supposed to extract. The grandson of Governor-General Natal Vakarian. Garrus Vakarian.

"Are you Garrus Vakarian? Grandson of Natal Vakarian?" asked Talus as kindly as he could. The frightened child shakily nodded his nodded and suppressed a sniffle.

"Where are your parents?" asked Talus already dreading the answer.

"Dead." was the child short bitter reply.

Cursing under his breath Talus checks his HUD to see the status of his squad and whole company and nearly collapses in shock as his heart plummets into his stomach. All red. All KIA.

Every single member of his unit. His people, the brothers and sisters he was supposed to protect. Barely managing to choke back a howl of despair and loss Talus gathered himself and opened a com link to Invictus High Command.

"Command this is Harrier 0-1 Actual. Come in over we...I have made contact with the HVI codenamed ZEUS, I repeat ZEUS has been located requesting immediate extraction over."

Talus waited as only static greeted him.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

Half a minute.

Just as Talus started to get uneasy the radio squawked in to life and Talus released a breath he didn't knew he was holding as he heard the voice Governor-General Natal Vakarian speaking "Thank the spirits. A UT-11 will be sent immediately. It will bring you straight to the Impending Justice, ETA two minutes, over."

"Roger that sir Harrier 0-1 Actual out." Talus shutdown the com-link with blossoming relief, only to notice a large data package that had just been sent by Governor-General Vakarian with a small note attached to the file. Curious, Talus opened the note and read.

-Important-

-Give my grandson this data cache-

-Tell him that his parents and I have loved him dearly-

-Watch over him like he is your own-

"Excuse me, soldier sir... would you mind telling me if my Grandpa is alright?!" asked the child in naïve curiosity. Talus for the first time in his life found himself unable to utter word as the implications of Governor-General Vakarian's message only now fully realized by his numb mind.

"Spirits, no..." Talus didn't, couldn't answer the boy. He didn't even utter a word when the shuttle arrived to extract them both. Not tearing his eyes from the young child, oblivious that he was the last of his kin, who kept his youthful gaze towards the burning, dying planet. His home. Tenderly, Talus reached out and softly half petted, half stroked the young Garrus head, who silently wept for everything he had just lost in the blink of an eye.

His entire unit, two-hundred men and women dead. A whole planet on fire and entire families butchered. Talus never even imagined that something like this would ever happen to him or to anyone else in the galaxy. Talus mentally asked both himself and the universe a question. A question that united every single species whether they know it or not. May they be Humans, Quarians, Batarians, Asari or Turians. All of them. Everything searches for a reason, a meaning behind a tragedy outsiders could not even fathom.

Why me?

"Why?" Talus muttered softly under his breath as they docked at the battered frigate, Impending Justice, unknowingly loud enough for the young Garrus to hear it and let it fester into his scarred mind. In this very moment, unknown by the Lieutenant, a spark of determination that a fire of ambition within the young boy.

Young Garrus looked through a window on the frigate, staring at the charred and butchered remains of Invictus. As he gazed upon the remains of his grandfather's home from orbit he made an oath to himself. He would find the reason for the carnage that would plague his mind for years to come and that destroyed billions of lives. He would find out who is responsible for this tragedy.

And he would make them pay.