Well, well... look who is back. So far it seems you guys just love my story more and more. I especially am pleased to see that I can make people who don't normally dig cross-overs, love my story. Especially when I can also make them like OC's and twist canon so bad it makes a medieval torture-chamber look normal.
Anyway, any of you people know the tale of Sct. George? Well, if you do, I suspect you will enjoy the last part of this chapter.
Also, there is something else. We have now officially crossed the 2/3 finished line, meaning that we are 2/3 through the story. I know, I know, it was just getting good. But think of it this way: We still have until 2186 to go. Plenty of craziness left :)
Anyway, I think it's time Magnus and Tara had the start of a chapter for once, so...
Here we go:
Swords and Sandals
November 24th
Illium, Nos Astra
17:22
Magus was tired. No, tired wasn't the exact word that would fit the description of his mental and physical state. Physically he was fine, having had the necessary amount of sleep and food to keep him fit and ready. No, the reason he was dead-beat tired was because Conrad Verner, still posing as the oh-so-nice guy, walked into the room just as he sighed, smiling. Of course, Verner had no idea that Magnus knew, and so he behaved like the goofy friend of a cute Quarian.
Cute? Yes, he supposed 'cute' could be used to describe how he had seen Tara in the beginning, before he had eavesdropped on her and Conrad's discussion. These days though, he didn't know just what he would call her. Cute, was definitely not in the options anymore. If anything, Tara was starting to remind him of Jane in some points. She had her moments where she was still the sweet and innocent girl she had posed as, but now she behaved like a professional around him, the nervousness and shy behavior she had radiated until two days ago was gone. In a way, he found it both refreshing and sad. He had started to really like the Tali-like girl… no, the Tali-like woman, that he had found in Tara. Now though, he experienced uncomfortable feelings when his eyes wandered to her form. True, she had a body most men would kill for. Either that, or a compensating suit. Sure, she had a form that would grant boners to any male person, but he couldn't get himself to see past the fact that A) She was a trained killer and had been given her nickname because she made Ardact Yaksi look docile in comparison, and B) She either reminded him of the type of person he was trained to kill, or a second version of Tali. He still couldn't figure out which he found to be most disturbing.
And yet, he felt oddly happy when around her. The kind of happiness he hadn't felt since he had held Jane in his arms the very last time. He could feel his blood rouse when he noticed how her suit hugged the body underneath, yes, but he hoped it wasn't as serious as he feared. For some reason, nothing scared him more than that sort of responsibility and bond to someone else. It was, he reckoned, quite strange. He could face down people ready to kill him and still wear a wry smile, but when it came to women… even starting out his relationship with Jane had had him terrified. That she looked like a heathen Goddess didn't help much, and frankly he had always been amazed that he had even gotten a chance with her.
Still, as much as his heart burned and ached each time he thought of her, he faced the facts that Jane Shepard was not just dead, but she had never even existed. It didn't make the pain any lesser that he couldn't even have a cemetery to mourn her at, as she had never even been born. He didn't even have the picture of her anymore, it was lost when he was killed. Breathing in deeply, he sighed, watching as the smiley-go-lucky Conrad greeted him;
"Hey there! It's Magnus right? Did you and Tara have a good night the other day, I haven't heard from-" He was cut off as Magnus, despite his condition and being out of proper training, grabbed him by the collar and hoisted the shocked man into the air, starring daggers at him and wanting nothing more than to tear off his face and force-feed it to him, then break his fingers off and shove them up the man's ass, one at a time;
"Listen here you annoying little fuck. I know who you are, and I know who and what Tara is. I am joining her mission, not because I love your Blue Suns, but because she's the only fucking person so far to take an actual interest and show care for my existence. So go stuff that 'Oh I'm a good guy' crap somewhere else, because I've known what kind of guy you are ever since you told Tara about Omega. So go tell your boss that I'm in on whatever insane trip you're going on. Now, unless you have something that has to be kept from me, tell me what you came to say, then Fuck Off, or learn how to fly before I throw you off a fucking balcony!" He growled, tossing the lighter man back to his feet.
For a moment, the blond fan-in-looks, seemed startled and completely unsure of what to say. Then a small, creepy smile grew on his lips;
"Good. Seems like you have a spine… I think we can use that." He said, the turned and left the room, leaving the befuddled Magnus standing where he stood, not sure if he had just been played. Now that he thought of it, he really preferred the old Conrad Verner. This one was just plain wrong in the head.
An hour later, he watched, to him, complete strangers pump the Ashanti full of fuel. It was weird, knowing that the people currently helping him were members of an organization who had lost more people to him than to Eclipse and the Blood Pack combined. Still, new time, new place, new chances, as a man had once said. For the life of him, Magnus couldn't remember who it was. Rubbing his eyelids, he leaned against the railing in the opening of the cargo bay's door. It was weird seeing so many people run around in the ship he had helped build from a pile of junk. Hearing the sound of soft footsteps, he turned to see Tara approach him from the inside of the ship, still wearing her civilian outfit. It was a somewhat pointless gesture though, as everyone in the room knew who she was. He nodded at her, then turned to look at the people milling around outside again.
"How do you feel?" She asked. He turned his head slightly, looking at the outline of her face through the opaque visor. He could just make out a perky nose and the top-most part of a mouth, as well as the forehead above her nose. It had always struck him as weird how they could look so much like humans.
"About the whole 'going to snap Vido' thing, or the 'going to join the Blue Suns'? Because I am no way working as a freelancer. You can jam that idea somewhere else." He snapped, the sighed, giving her an apologizing look; "Sorry, just… I'm still a bit disturbed by the fact that I have a full suit of Mercenary armor lying ready for me in the cockpit of this thing." He said. Tara chuckled softly, an otherwise manly action, but he found that it suited her well. He had never really digged the whole 'giggles and doe-eyes' thing. Jane had always been a more 'hard laughter and rough sex' type of person. Did he miss that? Of course he did.
"It's alright. At least you had some experience with the military before you joined. I was just a kid when I did, so… keep your nose up? Is that the right word?" She asked, leaning against the hull next to him. His eyes were briefly distracted by the Chaingun being assembled and set up in front of the door. It looked like it could tear through a Mako. Tara's question caused a small smile to break on his lips;
"It's the chin, but thanks, I will." He said, then turned back to looking at the men hoisting the minigun onto the ship. He couldn't help but feel that Jane would have loved that sort of firepower. Jane… why did his mind keep returning to her? He would never see her again, so why couldn't he stop thinking about her? Of course he knew why though. He still loved that crazy red-head with all of his being, and would give both of his legs and spend the remainder of his life in a wheelchair if it would bring her back. If he could just hold her in his arms once more, just once. To tell her how sorry he was to have left her like that, how much he loved her, how he had wanted to marry her someday, maybe even start a family with her. But now he knew he would never get the chance to do that. She was gone forever, and his heart was still as shattered as it had been the moment he found out she no longer were in his life.
"You still miss her, don't you?" He was torn from his memories and thoughts of loss by the soft voice of Tara, having placed a hand on his shoulder despite not being taller than his nose. He could feel tears slowly come to his eyes as the emotions welled over him. It was as if he hadn't stopped to consider the fact that Jane was gone, until now. Sucking in his breath, he wiped the tears from his eyes before speaking;
"Yes… Gods, yes I miss her so much." His voice was hoarse and croaked as he spoke.
…
November 24th
Arcturus Station
12:27
"Price?"
No response.
"Come on, I didn't mean… whatever I did. Come out now?" Anna said, rubbing her forehead as she did. It was one thing that her AI was a human in mind, but he had been unwilling to talk to her ever since he talked about some girl named Cortana. Weird name, but even she had been wise enough not to comment on that. And yet, there still was no response from her AI. It was a little weird, by the way, calling someone an AI when they thought of themselves as a person. Still, an AI he was, and an AI she would call him in his absence. The most annoying thing was that Korris would be arriving at her office within ten minutes, and if she didn't have an AI to present, the meeting would turn out pretty boring.
"Price?"
Still no response. Anna was starting to be a little pissed at the man. In her eyes, he behaved like a bloody teenager, not willing to accept having lost an argument. And there hadn't even been an argument yet. he had just up and vanished.
"Price you son of a- get your butt out here at this moment, or I swear I'm going to pour malware into your disk until your avatar is a skanky slut!" She bellowed. Almost as if on a cue, the AI reappeared. He looked fairly downtrodden, almost like a human would after a serious hangover. His clothes, once again the original version, hung on him in a saggy way. It almost looked like he had just decided to wear it without care for his appearance.
"Fine, what is it?" He muttered. Clearly, he was not in the best of moods. Of course, it could also have something to do with Raan soon returning, and from what she had gotten out of Price, the Quarian had been a bit more conservative than they had anticipated. Still, if she knew anything about them, then Korris would probably jump on his visor to talk to an actual AI. Jumping on his tongue wasn't really an option with Quarians.
"You have been giving me the silent treatment ever since you left yesterday… Listen, a much as I have no idea as to how an AI can feel things like love, sorrow and anger… I understand what you are going through. I lost my own cousin only four years back." She muttered. To her surprise, the AI sighed, copying her forehead-rubbing;
"I know, you told me. Listen, I'm not going to talk more about old wounds, and you don't open them. Are we clear?" As rare as it was for someone to dare boss Anna around, she had no intentions of berating Price for doing it.
"Fine with me. So, you're not going to be pissed anymore?" She asked, looking out the window as the projection of Price looked after her. Outside her office, she could enjoy two separate views. One was of the exterior dry-docks where her new super-Dreadnought was being constructed. They still needed the painting and the plating, in reverse order, but they were making progress. Especially because 3D-printers were so easy to manage and convert to new prefabs and modules. In the old days, entire new factories would have been needed for the kind of job she hauled them through. Now though, the facilities on Arcturus could handle the construction of her own ship. Meanwhile, she had been informed that the SSV Spirit of Eden Prime had been finished back on Earth. To be fair though, the people on Earth didn't have to manage with a simple dry-dock and the materials she could scrape up. They usually had the entirety of both NATO and the Alliance funding reserved to their personal use, and she had no doubt they were already boasting of the new warship. Assholes…
"Nah… besides, I've got a meeting with an actually decent guy for once, so might as well stop looking like thunder. From what I can see, they've just docked with the station and will arrive here in three minus ten. You want the seconds as well?" He asked. His face had changed from the dark scowl to a more spirited version already.
"Not really, you creep me out when you do that thing, you know."
"What thing? Two minus ten." He asked with a smirk on his face as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Anna scowled, insisting on not being trolled by an AI. She already had Zaeed coming her way as well as a quirky thief who had yet to report back. The data, of course, had been enough to make the people in the arms-division wet themselves with glee.
"That thi-… you know what? Never mind, you just count down all you want, I'm going to wait outside." She said, sighing as she got up from her chair. Price just looked at her for a moment, lips moving in a silent mockery of his boss. Suddenly though, he flashed red. Anna saw it too;
"Price?"
"Emergency broadcast incoming. Stand by." He said, his voice suddenly monotone and even, yet still with the gruffness to it.
"This is Corporal Adrian Shepard of the 413th, Valhalla facility! We are being overrun! I repeat, we are under#¤ ¤"¤#"#¤# -ack! Heavy casualties! We cannot hold! I repeat, we cannot- fuck! Kill t#¤####, sho#####ot it in the fucking head! They are thro¤##¤#"doors, pull back!" The sound of gunfire came from Price's projection as he stood motionless, silently observing his own image as the sounds kept pouring from him. Ghoulish roars and wails filled the room as the message rolled.
"We need support! The SpecOps are dying, my men and superiors are almost all dead, and######### longer! They are ###¤# ARIANS, I repeat, not Bat%#¤¤ns! Friedricks, get the fu-" Then the sound ended, and Price resumed his usual stance, albeit a worried look on his eyes. Anna stood still as well, eyes wide as she took in what she had just heard. Valhalla… that was where the best of the best the N7 had to offer were trained. No way was that a simple raid.
"Fuck, fuck, fuu- Alright…" Anna growled, then ignited her Omni-tool. She took a moment before starting;
"Crew of the tenth fleet, man your battle stations NOW! I want the entire fleet ready to sail out in two minutes, and if you aren't on board you'll be persecuted for cowardice! Crew of Hong Kong, fire her up and make ready for departure! We're going to Valhalla!" She shouted, feeling her blood boil as she did. Admirals and Quarians be damned, Price could handle those two. She was not going to let a new Mindoir or Elysium happen when she could stop it.
"Where the fuck are you going? We have a meeting, remember?" Price shouted as he watched Anna tear her luggage from under her bed. It looked, and was, heavy as hell. As it should be, it contained all her field-gear, including a Revenant assault rifle and enough grenades and other weapons to scare the pants of a Thresher Maw. She then heaved it to her shoulder as she headed for the door, giving Price a dirty look;
"You can handle those two. I'm not going to just sit here this time." She ordered before she left the room, headed for the docks.
One minute and six seconds later, she entered the SSV Hong Kong, her for-now Flagship. It was a Dreadnought from the year 2180, and even if the new super-Dreadnought was practically a God of War, her own still kicked the proverbial ass of anyone who dared think otherwise.
On board, Anna was greeted by Bridge commander Alfred Jefferson, a seasoned veteran from the Terminus campaigns back in 2162. He looked and was, physically unscarred by his many years of battle, but on his soul he bore the reminders of the men he had lost, of the lives he had taken. Still, he kept his spirit high as he saluted the admiral.
"Admiral Fisher, the Hong Kong is ready for departure. We are just waiting for your command." He said as they took the elevator to the bridge. Anna took a moment to breathe as he went over the situation. It wasn't the Batarians this time it seemed, but she still felt a combination of giddiness and anxiousness at the thought of going back in battle. Mentally, she kicked herself in the groin. She really had been out of battle for too long if she was beginning to think like that.
"Status on the crew, weapons, shields, engines and fuel?" She demanded as the elevator stopped, opening up to the massive command-center of the Dreadnought. Some might say that she had an inflated ego, or that she owed her position to her uncle. Now though, she was going to show the idiots, the dead idiots who had attacked Valhalla, just why she was an admiral, and just why they could be found in a crater. To her satisfaction, the commander was quick to respond;
Crew is at ninety-nine percent, with fifty still missing, and three on the hospital. Weapons are fully loaded and the missile-pods are stocked for ten full barrages. We have fifty Mark-IV torpedoes in the tubes, ready for launch, and our GARDIAN-systems are fully operational and ready to be activated. The new shielding demands a bigger power-output yes, but I suspect it will be worth it in the end. The engines are fueled for a trip across the galaxy and back, and we have full crew on them, Ma'am." Jefferson said, nodding to her once they reached the command chair of the Dreadnought.
"Status on the fleet?" She called out, noting how the technicians were still only finding their seats and slapping on the gloves and visors for use when operating the Dreadnought. The Hong Kong was, at a length of one kilometer and three hundred meters, the biggest ship Anna had yet commanded. Of course that would change soon enough, but for now the old girl would suffice. Whatever they were packing, the people that attacked Valhalla, she would show them why pissing off humanity was a bad idea.
"All ships reporting in. We still need the… now, the Shanghai just signed in too. We are good to go ma'am." Jefferson reported, taking his place at the massive holographic table that spanned the length of the bridge, showing the entirety of the tenth fleet in holograms. Two hundred and forty ships of various classes were under the command of Anna Fisher. And she would be damned if she didn't use all that firepower to kick some major ass. In her eyes, that was the single reason she ever became an admiral in the first place.
"All hands, set a course for the Relay! We are going to Valhalla, and drink with the gods of old!" She shouted, watching as the bridge came alive with orders, affirmatives and bustling and beeping of computers and machinery spinning up; "Jefferson, how long till we reach Valhalla?"
"According to the flight specs… seven hours and twenty-six minutes." Jefferson replied. Anna nodded, looking over the bridge as she felt the slight hum of the engines kick the ship into speed.
…
November 24th
Valhalla, Midgard System.
Team Apple -Garrus, Kaidan, Liara, John'Shepard and Nihlus.
Colony of Valhalla.
08:11
"You know… I really don't like the looks of those big things… and where are all the colonists?" Kaidan Alenko asked, gripping his Assault rifle a little tighter. It had been fifteen minutes since they had touched down outside the colony, and the team had yet to meet a single inhabitant of the colony. Normally that could mean they had all escaped, but with all the blood-smears and bullet holes adorning the walls, that fact was less than likely to hold true. John'Shepard, commander of the Normandy and leader of Fire-team Apple, shrugged as he looked around. His shotgun was primed and safety was off. His belt dangled with a set of five razor-sharp knives ready to impale something.
"I can't tell, but it looks like they either put up a fight or were brutally massacred… still, where are all the bodies? Vakarian, can you get to a roof-top and provide overwatch?" John said, looking at Garrus. The Turian nodded, then headed for a ladder going to the top of a prefab-building. It was chilling, to say the least. Aside from the roars of the Harvesters, and the occasional sound of one of them firing its guns, the colony was as still as the grave.
After a few seconds, Garrus reached the roof and pulled out his rifle.
"Talk to me Garrus. What do you see?" John demanded, touching his communications. There was a slight pause before Garrus answered;
"Hmm… hard to say. There's plenty of damages, but… I can't see any moveme… is that... Shepard, try advancing fifty meters up the street, then turn a sharp right. I'm relocating." John nodded, removing his fingers from the coms. He then looked at the others, Liara especially. He had initially been against having her on active missions, and it was only because of Jane's insisting that she had even been on Noveria. He knew she might have dealt with thugs and the like in the Terminus when she was digging for ruins. But what they had faced so far was more than enough to make hardened soldiers flinch. Especially because John suspected Liara of suffering from Survivor's guilt because of Sev. Still, he needed three full teams, and better that he could keep an eye on her than she would be found dead later.
"You heard him people, fifty yards that way, then turn left. Stay frosty and look out for movements. Identify your targets before you shoot." He ordered with a low voice. The team then started moving forward, Nihlus next to John as the Turian Spectre scanned the area, shotgun at the ready.
"A penny for them Nihlus." John muttered, not looking at the Spectre as he moved. The Turian looked confused for a moment;
"A what?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the surroundings either. Looking at each other was a mere courtesy, a luxury they could not afford currently.
"It's a human expression, means 'what are you thinking?'" John said, looking at a place where a long series of projectiles had swept the length of a building. A lot of blood had died up on the ground below, and chunks of the wall had been torn off by the bullets.
"This reminds me too much of Eden Prime. Death everywhere, not knowing much about your enemy… and where have you ever seen Harvesters that looked like that?" The turian said, pointing to one of the dragon-like creatures circling the facility on the mountain.
"I've never seen a Harvester at all, so I can't spot the difference. I just know they aren't supposed to be armed." John commented as they made the turn around the corner. They had, he noticed, reached the central plaza of the colony. Once, it had been a pretty sight, with a fountain in the middle and the town center at one side with a religious center at the other side. Seemingly, the building had been a mix of the three major human religions, when it had been intact that was. Now though, John's and the rest of the team looked in pale shock at the sight in front of them. Garrus then chimed in over the comms;
"Commander I… I think we've found the colonists…" He said, using the mildest form of speaking he could. In front of the small squad, the plaza was covered in Dragons Teeth, all of them carrying a human.
"Spirits…" Nihlus whispered, his eyes widening in horror as his blood froze at the sight unfolding in front of them.
The long metallic spikes were retracting.
…
November 24th
Valhalla, Midgard System.
Team Baker- Jane, Ashley, Wrex and Thomas.
Colony of Valhalla, Odin Facility.
08:21
When I thought about a "Harvester" before today, it was the machines used to harvest grain and such on the fields of Denmark. Now though, I really am not so sure anymore. Mostly because a creature that looks like a tech-zombie version of the dragon-thing is shooting at us, and because we are running as fast as our legs can carry us.
"Fucking Run! Get to the entrance!"
And when you are being chased by a Harvester, those legs can carry you pretty damn fast. We have been running and evading ever since we touched down on the surface of the planet, only a hundred meters from the entrance to the facility. In a normal day, that would be a short distance with no reason for worry. Of course, in normal days you aren't wearing armor and running for your life with a fucked up space dragon shooting laser at you.
The enormous flying creature sweeps down towards us as it fires the cannon placed, as insane as it seems, in the middle of its face. I mean… that just can't be natural. We all scatter as the sound of flapping wings grows in intensity. The moment I have tossed myself along the dirt, the large claws of the Harvester snaps shut in the air right behind me. That was just too close!
As the thing turns in the air, I roll around on my back with my Lancer readied. The moment I note the rifle to have unfolded itself, I pull the trigger. It is painfully obvious that my bullets have little to no effect on the thing. It simply looks like it doesn't even acknowledge the fact that I'm overheating my assault rifle in its face from twenty meters distance. I just keep shooting until Jane grabs my shoulder and hauls me towards the building, now sporting large holes in its walls.
As soon as we reach the building, I see that a pair of large reinforced steel doors used to provide the entrance to the place. When I say used to, it is because they have been cracked open like a man having kicked in a pair of cardboard boxes. They are mutilated beyond repair, and large claw marks and scratches bear witness to something big having been at work here. Luckily for us, an overhanging plateau provides some cover from the onslaught of the Harvester. Still, doesn't mean it leaves us alone.
"Fuck, I knew I should have taken the minigun." I growl, looking on in anger and horror as the creature touches down on the ground. Now it can see us. With an ear-shredding shriek, the thing starts unleashing shots at us, each one tearing up concrete and dirt as we jump for our lives. Holy Fuck, Holy Fuck, Holy Fuck!
"Now that you mention it…" Wrex says before turning to face the creature, Chaingun spinning up as he roars with delight; "Come on you big fucker! SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!" He laughs, and then the gun fires, spitting out thousands of grains of tungsten a second. He practically bathes the thing in rounds as the barriers around its head blares up, glowing an eerie dark purple. So… it has a biotic barrier. That is just great.
Despite being protected by a barrier stronger than any I have seen before, the flying worm starts scuttling around as if to avoid being shot. Wrex just roars and keeps the trigger pulled on his gun, never ceasing his relentless barrage of Tungsten and steel.
"Just die already!" He shouts, sending everything the minigun can dish out at the thing's head. the barriers start pulsating and lighting as if it was a freaky kind of disco-show, obscuring its head almost entirely with purple lights. Then it rears back, it's neck craning backwards. Yes! Die you piece of-
Then it shoots, bright searing balls of plasma raging towards Wrex. Instead of getting out of the way, he just keeps firing. Everything then seems to enter a state of slow-motion as the first volley shatters his shields and burns his armor. I can see the scorching ionized gas burn away at his skin while his armor is melting away. Wrex drops to the ground, rolling around on the dirt to extinguish the searing flames. The Harvester then rears back for a new volley;
"WREX!" I'm not even fully aware of what I'm doing. Not even as I idly observe my feet set into movement towards the Harvester. The first thing I actually feel, is my skin catching on fire, azure flames bathing my armor to the point where I can hardly see my own hands as anything but pillars of flame extending from my body. It hurts.
The Harvester seems to take note of my approach. In any case its head suddenly turns from sending Wrex into oblivion, and then to aiming its weapons at me. Truth be told, when I suddenly see its glowing face-guns aligned towards me, I feel like I'm going to throw up with fear. I have no idea if I can actually survive that thing shooting at me. I saw how they punched holes in a wall of steel or stone only ten minutes ago, and being shot by a sniper can probably strain my… shields, I guess, to the point of my brain being cooked. I don't really desire to find out.
Then, the thing shoots again, the world becoming a blur of slow movements as the projectiles race towards me slowly and incredibly fast at the same time. It's like you see in the movies, watching projectiles speed towards you but at the same time they are going slow enough to dodge.
"Just dodge the damn missiles!" Roku shouts, filling my mind with his booming voice. He sounds rather strained actually, as if he is the one trying not to be killed by a twenty-foot plasma shooting, flying, tech-zombie dragon from outer space. Nevertheless, I simply do as he says, side-running in order not to have my face blown off. I know Roku himself could take this thing down, but that would mean killing his mortal vessel, aka me.
The shots impact on the ground where I just was plowing up the stone and earth where they hit. For some reason, I am actually aware of what happens all around me, even if I'm only looking at the big thing in front of me. I am now no more than five meters from it, and the Harvester really towers up above me, at least five or six meters high. The guns on the side of its head starts glowing red again, and I can almost feel the hatred behind where it seemingly used to have eyes. It wants me dead? Fine, let it actually try.
Reaching the creature, I jump onto its body, fiery palms clawing to maintain a grip on its body as I hang onto it. This is where any living thing would have shrieked in pain, given the fact that I'm practically setting its body ablaze with each touch. Instead of shrieking though, the Harvester starts unfolding its wings again, attempting to throw me off.
"Hoh no you don't you fucking super-sized ant!" I scream, feeling rage fill my mind and give me energy as I jump from its back and onto one of the wings. Without waiting for the skeletal attachments to carry it into the air, I hit it. No, hitting implies simple violence. My hands go straight through the appendix, tearing and scorching away at sinew and bone. A wet, slibbery feeling, like trashing through muck, greets my hand as I tear my way through its wing. The Harvester starts performing a near-comical dance around itself as it struggles to throw me off. Meanwhile Jane and Ash have managed to extinguish the fires on Wrex and are treating him, mouths moving but with no audible words exiting them. Wrex just looks at me and the Harvester, eyes widening. Wait, how did I know that? I'm not even looking at them?
"Shared senses, remember?"
Right, that might explain why I can follow in on what the others are doing, allthewhile I'm struggling to hang onto the back of a weaponized space-dragon. I curl up my left hand, the bionic attachment also somehow being covered in green and azure fire. I then slam the fist into the back of the Harvester, feeling and hearing the bones, tendons and lots of metallic things snap, break and bend under the power. I can also feel how the shockwave travels up my left arm, rattling my teeth as it ends up in my skull. Fuck that hurt!
Biting down on the pain, I send the fist downwards again, striking at the same hole I just made in its exoskeleton. The organic plates of armor covering its backside are burned away as I hammer down again and again, tearing holes into its body. Each time I hit the metal though, it is as if my hands are stopped by something that is harder to punch through than P-Steel amor. I slam the bionic fist down again, feeling my skin break against the hard metallic surface. What the hell am I hitting?
"Organic metals… synthetic components…" Roku says, his voice oddly calm above the constant roaring of the Harvester. Deciding not to waste any more time on trying to punch the skeleton, I instead take both hands to the greying flesh on the Harvester's body. The fire becomes more volatile as I start tearing apart the creature, ripping and scorching off large chunks of flesh.
"Organic what? Come again?"
"I am not certain, but it would seem like this Harvester is filled with the same materials found in a huskified human. Just a lot more sturdy and lethal."
"Wha- are you saying this thing is a Husk?!" Despite the conversation only happening inside my mind, I can feel my mouth drop open as I realize the truth. The Harvester is actually a giant husk! Just made from Harvesters instead of humans.
"In short? Yes, but that doesn't matter. Just kill it and get away from it then. If a Praetorian is anything to go by, flying Reaper-troops are not something you want to be around when they die."
Damn…
"Alright, time to- gaah! Shit!" As I'm about to deliver a one-liner, not a good one, but still a one-liner, the Harvester starts shaking like a wet dog. I have to dig my fingers through its sickening flesh, trying to ignore the ooze of rot stemming from it. When it finally stops shaking, I continue tearing away at it, making my way towards its head. Even Husks die when you cause their heads to explode.
"Fisher! Get the hell down from that thing, and since when did you catch fire?!" Jane's voice suddenly comes in over the comms, screaming through my helmet as it does. I swear, Jane might be a badass, but it almost seems like she thinks what she does would kill anyone else. Of course, fighting this thing makes it true, but still. What's next, it has to be Shepard killing Saren? Doesn't work that way in real life Captain.
"Can you get back to me later captain? I'm a little busy here!" I shout back into the comms, keeping my hands clawed into the base of the Harvester's neck as I start climbing up. As I get half-way up the neck, the Harvester starts shaking it like a rope, making it impossible to get any further up. Hold still you stupid fuck! I am trying to kill you! Seriously, this thing just doesn't seem to wanna work with me.
"Corporal!" Jane shouts again. This time actually causing the speakers to scratch at the sheer volume of her voice. I am NOT in the mood for her to start interrogating me right now. Sitting on the neck of a Flying Reaper slave kinda makes me a little uneasy.
"What?!"
"We are moving inside. I know this sounds stupid, but do you need help with the giant mutated Harvester?" Okay, so she isn't going to shout at me again. That's a nice change. As the creature shakes again, causing me to slide all the way down its neck, I end up clinging to where the neck joins with the body. My shotgun is being pressed against my body as the creature continues to try and throw me off, and my sword is close to breaking out of the sheath. I just need to kill this thing, but I can't get far enough in with my hands, despite me burrowing both of them deep into the neck of the Harvester. I just can't reach anything vital except for the Reaper-steel. And that just hurts me instead. That's when my eyes fly to my sword, the one-and-a-half meter long and thick blade that can cut a fully armored man in two. Maybe that will actually work.
"Well… not to sound stupid, but I think I'm about to kill this fucking thing a la Lord of the Rings… could you take a picture of me afterwa- arh! Shit, hold still!" I curse, punching the Harvester in the neck again as it interrupts me. The flesh and skin around its neck is starting to fall off in chunks and flakes, leaving more and more of the inner circuits bare. I pull my sword from the strained sheath, then shift the grip to hold it more like a down-stabbing knife. Come on, one-liner, one-line, one-liner! Give me something! I could smack myself for the careless way of thinking, but a lot of my rational sense gets the window when Roku turns on the heat. In the end, figuring that the thing will get me thrown off before I can come up with something, I raise the sword upwards, pummel at the top and blade downwards. Then I plunge the sword into the neck of the Harvester, the flat but razor-sharp end of it reaching further than I could. The strange metals prove to be a strain even for it though, causing me to stop dead in my tracks as I have to repeat the stabbing again. There has to be a better way of doing this.
"Chop the neck off for the love of your gods!"
"Oh… right!" I grimace, heaving the sword out of the wounded neck again. I then start swinging the sword at the neck, but while I'm sitting down I can't get it to gain enough power. Ah fuck… I have to stand up, don't I?
Without waiting for Roku to respond, I plunge the blade as deep into the body as I can, deciding to use the hilt as a handle to avoid being shaken off the second I stand. As the blade buries itself in its back, the Harvester gives off a shriek of rage, chasing its own backside in an attempt to throw me off. As I'm finally standing, I strengthen my hold on the blade. With a long whine, like when metal grinds against rusted metal and barbed wire, I pull the sword from the back of its shoulder. I then lift it for a swing, and therefore I am not exactly steadfast when the fucker suddenly jerks upwards, throwing me into the air while I'm still holding the sword;
"Shit!" Is all I get to exclaim before I hit the ground with a heavy thud, feeling the air getting knocked out of me. Before the Harvester gets a chance to trample me though, I roll away, narrowly avoiding the business end of a long serrated knife-shaped leg going through by torso. This is not really going my way for the moment. Jesu-shit! Another leg attempts to skiver me, and I roll away again, jumping to my feet as I get a little distance between me and the pissed of Space-Dragon. Alright, now to chop it to slices! I mentally roar. It's a sort of mechanism I get when I'm nervous. Talking a lot usually helps when I'm in the shitter, but since no one is here, with the exception of my team, I have to just talk to myself as I'm dancing around the big creature, ducking under its attacks as it fires what I'm sure counts as anti-tank ammunition after me.
After having ducked a shot that nearly sent me flying, I perform an action that will most certainly earn me an Ash-kicking later. Instead of just evading it, I now change my course and head straight for the Harvester's body, sword held ready for a swing behind me. As the Harvester brings down a leg to spear me, I swing the sword as hard as I can against the leg.
The blade impacts… and slides cleanly through, separating the leg from the rest of the creature. The effects are easy to spot and instantaneous. Where the creature stood solid before, it is now having trouble operating at peak efficiency. Still, while it remains up and running, this gives me an idea. Instead of trying to behead it as it is now, I skid for the next leg. The Harvester, apparently smart enough to guess what I'm doing, steps away from my blade as I swing it, the force behind the blade being enough to drive it into the dirt.
"Fisher, what the hell are you doing out there? We're coming out!" Jane shouts through the comms. I respond as fast as I can;
"Don't come out here Jane! I can evade this thing, but it'll just kill you guys! Besides, I'm- Fuck you!" I shout, chopping at the leg sent to spear me. The blade goes halfway through before the leg is pulled back again, tearing the sword from my hands; "Besides, I'm fine! Just ask Ash not to kick my ass for doing something stupid!" I say, then turn my attention back to the Harvester staring me down with a pair of big guns.
Without feeling the need for being shot, I pick up the sword from the ground before I run straight for the creature's chest. I roll to the side to avoid a leg being shot at me without a chance to cut it off. Instead, as it stands on just four legs, I chop forward into its side, plunging the sword as deep as I can into its body before I then pull down, carving a long gaping wound in its body as I do so. Instead of blood, mushy fluid starts leaking out, looking like diarrhea coupled with geth cooling fluids. The ground is soaked with it as I pull my sword back out. A few splashes even hit my armor, behaving like thick goo instead of blood. Okay… this is now officially the most disgusting thing I've ever done in my life, and I once ate a cockroach!
Apparently I cut something vital, as the legs in its left side suddenly start ceasing their function. With no actual support in the left side, the Harvester drops down on its stomach. It still tries to shoot or stab me though, the long serrated legs on its right side stabbing at me through the air. Before it can actually do more damage, I am at its head, stomping down on it with flaming feet. I really hope my armor is fireproof! Despite me not even weighing a fraction of the Harvester, my boot causes the Harvester to recoil, trying to pull itself away from me.
"Too late you asshole!" I shout, raising my sword above its head. it really is pretty big, considering the fact that I have to actually jump where I'm standing to get enough leverage on the blade for it to actually go through the metallic skull. A combination of wet crunches and metallic screeching follows as I drive the blade through its head again and again. Finally, the Harvester stops moving, lying dead where it is. Technically, if this thing really is a Husk, then it was already dead once. In other words, I just killed a flying tech-zombie dragon with a two-handed sword. What the fuck just happened to reality?
"Alright Jane, I'm done out here. Wanna come get a picture of me and my prize?" I ask with a smirk as I tap the comms. I know Ash is going to kick my literal ass for this stunt, but looking back at it, this thing could have killed Wrex if I hadn't jumped in, literally.
"You… what? Okay, I HAVE GOT to see that." She does sound a bit excited. But then again, I just killed a freak of nature with a sword. I think a little 'excited' is allowed here. Walking up to the dead Harvester again, I stick my sword though the neck, planting it securely before I jump onto the thing, standing on top of the Harvester's head just as the others come through the doors.
Wrex looks like he is healing quickly from his injuries, despite his armor looking ready to throw out. most of it is scorched beyond recognition, and the rest is simply falling off his body like cornflakes. Really scorched and burned cornflakes made from material harder and lighter than steel. Ash looks about ready to either hug me or kick my ass in a fashion that will make the Harvester stand back in awe… if it wasn't dead that is. And Jane? Jane is slack jawed. With a smirk, I drop down to sit on the Harvester's head, despite it not really being very comfortable;
"Hello, missed me?" I wave at them with a smile, feeling it broaden at Wrex's facial expression. I know he killed a Thresher Maw on foot, but I just took down a Reaper Dragon with a sword. That has got to be impressive.
"Fisher… I… God dammit, you're gonna end up a Spectre before me at this rate." Jane says, looking at my kill. I stand from the head and retrieve my sword from the neck of the Harvester, then jumping down to the ground again. I then heft it over the shoulder as I walk towards them, ready to evade a furious kick from Ash. I can understand how she probably feels about seeing me risk my life in this way, but I don't really know if I was ever in danger. Sure, I could have been killed, yes, but then I would have had to really mess up.
"Doubt it Captain. Too much politics and having to take responsibility…" I say, then turn to Ash. She is, like I expected, looking ready to give me the beating of a lifetime. Planting the sword in the ground, I remove my helmet, trying to come up with some way to say 'sorry for doing something insanely stupid, don't kick my ass please' without it sounding stupid.
"Ash…I…" I really can't come up with anything at the moment. She just shakes her head, sighing audibly;
"Why? Why do you always have to endanger yourself like this? Seriously, you don't know when your luck ends and you slip up, and then I've lost you again… maybe even for good." Her words make me cringe inwardly, hurting more than if she had beaten me to a pulp.
"I'm… sorry. I know you hate it, but… I… don't know what to say. I just… being in my position, you'd understand why the prospect of dying doesn't scare me that much anymore. I know it is stupid, and yes, someday my luck will end and I am probably going to fuck up spectacularly… but…just, I'm sorry that I scared you. I never meant to cause you worry, and then Bam, I go ahead and do it. Sorry…" I mutter, ending up looking at my feet instead of her. I just can't bring myself to look her in the eyes after that stunt. What still worries me is that the berating isn't coming, like she just doesn't feel like it.
"I know… you have just given me so many scared moments where I thought I had lost you Thomas… let's just… get on with the mission, and we'll talk more later." She says, sounding very tired. I can feel the knot tightening in my chest over her voice. I can't put my finger on it, but somethings she said worries me deeply. Looking at her as she walks through the door, I can feel the happiness of my victory fade away, replaced by a nagging emotion that what I did was unnecessary. Yes, I probably saved Wrex's life, but I didn't accept the offered help, probably leaving Ashley worried sick since she had no idea what was happening to me. With an arm tired from the overuse of violence, I pick up the sword before placing it back in the sheath. I watch as the green fire dissipates, leaving behind my armor. A few scorches, and that's it. Nothing more has happened to it.
"Hmm… taking down a Harvester on foot? I might just be starting to like you Fisher." Wrex says, chuckling slightly as he grins, baring a few teeth. Not feeling like commenting, I just pull out my rifle instead, flicking the safety off before I follow Ash and Jane into the facility. A small ping in my helmet alerts me to an incoming transmission from Ashley, and I hesitantly open up the private line;
"Hey…" She says, her voice somber, causing me to speed up a bit.
"Hey Ash…"
"Listen… I'm not… mad, at you. Just… I have lost so many people I cared about already… and…"
"I know. Believe me, I know how it feels to lose it all, not knowing who to turn to for help, who to trust… I do now." I mutter, catching up with her as we walk, checking our corners in the facility's entrance hall. The whole place is dead. No gunfire, no screams, no nothing. Only lots and lots of bodies.
What strikes me as odd though, is how there are seven or eight dead soldiers, and then just dozens and dozens of dead husks, some looking like they were torn apart with a pair of big claws. Around one of the dead humans, this one dressed in a suit of armor reminding me of the Delta's, at least twenty dead and broken husks surrounding him in a neat circle. Some are blown apart, some have been sliced clean through with some kind of sword and some yet have been ripped apart of curb stomped.
"Yeah… I guess that's true. I don't know how I keep forgetting that you lost your entire family only three months ago, and you seem better at accepting it than I am coming to… terms with Eden Prime. Shit, now the talk went awry again. Listen, I just want you to know that the reason I sometimes seem ready to tear you apart… is just because I care about you, alright?" Ash says, stopping at one of a series of multiple bullet holes decorating the wall, then turning to face me. Her face is obstructed by her helmet though, so her emotions are only displayed by her voice and posture. I stop as well, lowering my gun as I look at her visor, trying to see her eyes. I then just tap the helmet again, turning on the HUD camera. Instantly, the portion of my view dedicated to grenades is switched out with Ash's eyes looking straight into mine.
"I know. I care about you too Ash, I always will. And if something were to happen to you…" I can feel my voice starting to waver. She just holds up a comforting hand on the side of my helmet;
"Don't… don't talk about that, okay? I'm not going anywhere Rookie." Her response causes me to break a small smile before taking her hand in my own, taking it down from my helmet. I give it a gentle squeeze as I hear Wrex cough behind me. He can go suck it for all I care, I just killed a giant huskified Space Dragon. I think I deserve at least a little privacy;
"If something ever was to happen to you… I would carve your name in Sovereigns corpse with Saren's skull." I say, slowly letting her hand go. I can pick up a small giggle in her voice, as well as her eyes squinting a bit, signaling a smile.
"Damn, I have to be dead for you to do that?" She says, picking up her rifle again. I shrug, following her example with a smile of my own;
"Well… either that, or they have to pop out of hiding on our anniversary. Your choice." I reply with a smug grin, watching as she just shakes her head at me. We then let Jane get up front again, leading us through the facility, looking for Gods know what, but at least our other objective is pretty clear:
Kill all the bad guys.
Codex Entry: Harvester
Recently discovered on the Alliance world of Valhalla, the Harvester appears to be the reanimated or controlled body of a dead Harvester, a species of airborne predators native to the Krogan homeworld of Tuchanka. Rumored to drop fire breathing Klixen from its belly upon attacking its prey, the Harvester has gotten its name due to the harvesting it performs concerning the Klixen themselves.
However, the discovery of an extremely lethal and effective airborne creature on Valhalla has baffled biologists from every race. The combination of technology and biology in the creature is of unheard technological standards, and allowed the creature to, in theory, carry on with even mortal wounds and the ability to completely ignore physical trauma.
On its head, a pair of mass accelerators are mounted, seemingly using the creature itself as a source of ammunition. Most of the internal organs have been replaced with technology that is alien to every race in and outside Council Space. It is also worth noting that the tissue of the creature appears to be in a decaying but regenerative state, a supposed impossibility for organic creatures. Major functions such as digestive and reproductive abilities seem to have vanished completely, allowing for exotic technology to be stored in place of organs such as the heart, lungs and the kidneys. It is unknown why the liver remains in the body, although experts on the species theorize that it might have something to do with its ability to produce the energy needed to maintain its motoric functions, although the removal of the stomach seems to counteract this theory.
It is speculated by the Normandy Crew that rouge Spectre Saren Arterius is behind the mutilation and control of the dead body, although no evidence exists that supports the claim of the former Spectre having access to such technology.
How was thát for an epic fight? Seriously, this one, to me, stumbles on the thin line between epic and too overpowered. Still, nothing beats chopping down a laser-spitting Space-dragon zombie with an over-sized sword. Well... sticking a shotgun into its mouth and saying "Eat this!" might, but I'm saving that one for later use.
We also see Anna mounting up for the whole 'ride of the Valkyries' epic attack with the tenth fleet. And since we all know her to be slightly insane... Yeah, she is going to curbstomp some Reaperised Mofo's.
Well, that was it for this time. Remember, that the more reviews, the faster I update. I know, I know... it's a somewhat lame argument, but I'm splitting my time between this story and 'Avatar - Bender of the Thu'um'. By the way, do me a favor and give it a shot. Since it is a cross-over, all the basic lore of both universes (Skyrim and Avatar - the legend of Korra) will be explained, literally, for dummies. (Dummies being the Dragonborn and Mjoll, not you guys, because you guys are just awesome.)