The Battle at the Theseus Relay
November 30th
SSV Normandy
Deck 3. Crew quarters, gym and brig
12:11
Slam!
A foot connecting with my lower jaw sends me staggering backwards. The stinging sensation is replaced with a dull pain, as well as a slight ringing in my ears. Ash pulls back in a fighting stance, waiting for me to make a move.
Her mistake.
Skidding towards her, I lunge out, catching her abdomen with a solid, flat palm, forcing the air out of her lungs. She buckles for a moment, as if she would fall. Then she grabs my wrist before I can retract it, elbowing my arm over the joint between the upper and lower arm. Fuck! That one hurt!
Reeling back and out of her grasp, I spin around on the spot, sending a shin against her side, intending on knocking her over and out of the match. Instead though, she absorbs the hit with a grunt, wrapping her own arms around my leg before sending me to the ground in a single fluid motion. Catching the fall, I place my bionic hand on the mat, pushing myself upwards again. My left foot connects with her chest, sending her reeling backwards with a surprised yelp.
Shrugging off the worry of actually having harmed her, I land on my feet again, using my momentum to accelerate forward before lifting off, sending a new kick against her thigh to make her kneel. Just as my foot connects, it connects with her gathered palms. Before I can retract or regain my balance, Ash uses my own momentum against me, sending me spinning like a bloody top through the air.
With all the ceremonial grace allowed for, I hammer against the side of the make-shift ring, dragging Garrus with me in the fall.
"Fuck..." I curse, struggling to get back on my feet.
"Ow..." Garrus mutters, pushing me off his chest. Returning to the mat, I rub at the sore spot one of our beloved Turian sniper's fringes poked at, feeling as if someone jabbed me with a stick.
"That's eleven - ten to me Thomas. Feel like giving up?" Ash asks, grinning as she rolls a shoulder in her workout clothes. I did send a punch against that at some point, though I'm a little surprised it's still sore. Speaks for my punches I guess.
"Ehm... what are we fighting to?" I ask, stretching my back.
"Twenty."
"Winner gets what?"
"Choice of the maybe last movie the crew is ever going to see." She says, shrugging. How wonderfully depressing...
"Then nope, I'm not out. Besides..." I say, moving closer around her, trying to get a good hit in; "I bet you'd just choose something with fairies or unicorns." I grin. That grin, however, is cancelled by the uppercut hitting me in the lower jaw. Staggering backwards, I can dizzily imagine how my jaw would yell "why is it always me?" had it been able to speak.
Because for some reason, people tend to aim at that poor sod.
"Fuck!" I swear, holding my jaw as Ash shakes her fingers in an obvious attempt to get rid of the pain the punch just brought her. At least she missed somewhat...¨
Not waiting up for her to punch me again, I run forward, pissing on strategy or tactics. Instead I just shoulder her in the stomach, catching her off guard, as weird as it seems in retrospect. The air leaves her lungs in a muffled 'Hggnnnn', and I keep going, pressing my momentum into her with my shoulder as the tip of the spear. I then grab her around the waist, lifting her body from the ground. Mindful of the way that went the last time, I root my feet on the mat, as well as turn in a way she can't hit my more sensitive parts.
With one final effort, I turn her in the air, before dropping her to the mat on her back, using my own weight to hold her down the moment she hits the ground.
"eleven - eleven" I mutter, giving her a once-over to make sure she's both conscious and not bleeding. Both would probably be a bit annoying to remember later on.
"Ass... ow." She mutters, getting back on her feet. Just as I am about to prepare for hitting her again, I find her foot kicking away my legs, sending me abruptly to the mat. It takes a few seconds before I can even process what just happened. Now that I think about it, it is as if she keeps me only one point behind her at all times. Strange...
"What was... damn"
"As a 'thank you' for the body-slam." She says, grinning as she holds out a hand to help me up. Trusting her, I grab her hand, pulling myself up again. Releasing me, she takes a step back, readying herself. Huh... I was actually expecting her to trick me there...
Ten minutes later, I'm lying on the mat, with one hell of a headache, as well as a foot-print on my leg. I'm not talking about the pants... there's an actual marking of where her flat foot hit me hard enough to leave a burn on my skin. Ooooow...
"Gotta say, you gave me more of a fight this time than any of those before. Been training without me, have we?" Ash says, leaning against the wall next to me, drinking from a canteen of water. Handing me mine, she smiles through the slight coloration formed over her cheek and forehead, probably from the last impact with the mat.
"Not that I know of, no... I just thought you were making it easier on me?" I ask, dragging myself up next to her before opening my own bottle.
"Damn... well then, I'd better see to downloading that movie." She says, emptying the remainder of her water over her face.
For some reason, she looks incredibly hot doing that.
"Mmmm... which one?" I ask, trying to avert my eyes from how the water travels down her glistering dark hair, then down her shirt, causing the fabric to cling to her forms.
"Was thinking of the Da Vinci Code... best one in the series in my opinion. The Lost Symbol was good too, but... wait, you even know any of those?" She asks, looking at me before I can pull my eyes away from her perfect forms. Feeling a small blush going up my already heated cheeks, I look her briefly in the eyes before looking back at my bottle.
"Yeah, I know of them. Read the books, though they had only made 'Angels and Demons' into a movie before I ended up here. But I agree, the first one was really good. Silas especially was pretty cool... or creepy, depending on how you look at it." I shrug, downing the last of the water before getting on my feet.
Holding out a hand, I pull Ash on hers as well. She continues into the pull, meeting my lips with her own in a brief, but sweet kiss. Feeling more warmth welling up inside me, I slide an arm around her, wanting most of all just to hold her. I'm honestly too beat up to desire anything more at the moment.
Pulling back, I feel the smile widen as she returns it. I give her a last kiss on the forehead before heading for the showers. Sadly, she is too, but for the women's. Oh well... I did say I was too beat up...
...
The briefing room is less crowded than the last time we used it. I suppose that's only a logical thing, seeing as we were almost halved on Valhalla.
Fixer dead
Nicolai in a coma
Scorch with his arms in plaster
Boss with his leg shattered.
Tali and Liara with broken bones...
How the hell did it come to this?
"Gather up people... take a seat." Jane says, turning from a conversation with John as the last of us enter, Kaidan and Garrus closing the door behind them. We obey, of course, and turn our eyes to our leaders. It's a funny thing, really, that we have reached this point anyway.
Despite everything we have done, everything I have done, we are going to Virmire.
The accursed, green ball of misery where Hudson snapped.
But to the Seven Hells and the Oblivion with what he messed up, I am not losing anyone.
Despite knowing I'll eat a bullet before letting anyone die, I catch myself staring at Kaidan and Ashley, feeling a pit grow in my stomach at the thought of losing either.
Ashley... I could never live without. I love her more than I have ever loved anything or anyone in my life, and if she was killed, I don't think I could go on. It's sad, in a way, that I couldn't get a relationship to work out until there was an ever-present risk of being killed every single day. But now I realize, I wouldn't want things any other way. Sure, I would love to calm down when this is all over and we have defeated Sovereign and the Collectors, but I know what brought us together.
Danger, and the bonds it forges.
And Kaidan... I remember, as odd as it is, that people tended to hate him. I don't remember why, but I have no reasons to ever feel that way. In the time I have known him, he has shown himself to be a pillar of strength for the entire crew, not just me. I don't know if he is aware of it, but I know he's been checking up on everyone regularly, not just the occasional conversations I've had with him. He's even been to the hospital more times than I have, making sure the others were fine. I suppose, it is only natural, that you start seeing the people you serve with as more than just thát.
As a band of brothers, not just comrades.
Jane takes a step forward, glancing over us. I can't help but notice how her eyes seem to linger at the empty seats.
"It's come to this... Listen up people, and listen well. Our next stop, as you know, is the planet Virmire, in the Hoc system. Recent intelligence from command has revealed that Saren, as well as his base of operations, is believed to be located on Virmire, near the Equator. We're linking up with an Alliance battle group at the Hoc Relay. When we do, all command is given to Admiral Oleg Petrovsky, and I expect a complete and utter amount of loyalty to him. He's one of the most experienced naval commanders in the Alliance." She says. There is a sort of hollow silence after this, the realization that the Normandy is being swapped under command of someone else, sinking in.
"Even if he will command the mission, I... we have one rule for this mission. We all saw just what the Reapers are capable of fielding on Valhalla, so here it is: We only want volunteers for this one. If you fear the next meeting with one of those horrors we saw, I won't hold it against you. I fear it myself, it's what makes us human... well, humanoid. You won't be discharged or looked down upon if you want to refrain from fighting this kind of enemy." Jane says, standing strong despite the way her eyes flicker over us, probably scanning us for signs of weakness. Hell if she'll see it from me.
"While we wish we could give you some time to consider, we need your decision now. If we are to plan for any changes, I need to know what I'll have to work with in the field." John says, his voice unusually tense. Tali had her own seat in this room, and I have noticed his eyes flickering in the direction of her empty seat more than once, followed by his fists curling up and out in a slow repeated sign of stress and rage.
I can understand him perfectly well. If something happened to Ash, I would be a wreck, even if it was just an injury and not a fatal one.
"So, Virmire eh? Well shit, we've come this far. Count me in, I want to hollow out Saren's head and wear it like a... hat, I think. Fuck, let's just go kill him already." Wrex growls, standing from his seat. Good thing too, the thing wasn't built to carry a Krogan.
"God knows I'm not beaten to it by a Krogan. I'm ready commander, captain." Ash says, standing with a salute to both John and Jane. I wonder... will she forgive Jane after this? When we all return alive, will she forgive Jane for letting the other version of her die? Gods I hope so...
"Sure, why not? Just killing time anyway." Garrus says, rolling his neck in his armor. Beats me why, but he always seems to have it on, even when I saw him on... Oh wait, he was in a civilian... thing, when we were bowling on Arcturus.
"Well, I suppose we better get this shit over with. Can't wait to carve the bastard up and set him on fire." I say, standing with a nod while cracking my knuckles. Fuck, that hurt... memo to self: Don't crack knuckles just to look cool.
"I have seen friends die. Commander Dawson was killed because Saren attacked Eden Prime, just like Jenkins. Time to send a war up his Turian ass. No offence Garrus." Kaidan says, a faint blue glow coming from his form. Just enough to make his statement carry a bit more weight.
"None taken. How about you Nihlus, up for a little contest?" Garrus says, causing our resident Spectre to sigh;
"I will admit it Shepards, in the beginning I had my doubt either of you were cut out for this. I stand corrected, and have stood corrected since the start of this campaign. Besides, I have to come. It would look bad if a formerly civilian Quarian stood up to the task a Turian Spectre, a good one, could not." He says, nodding but not getting up.
"Christo... well, I knew I was gonna die sometime this year. Might as well do it raiding the bad guys' planet." Tequila says, standing like me and Ash before delivering a small salute of her own. If Jane could, I believe this would be the first time she has looked genuinely happy. Without being drunk that is.
"Good. Go prepare, we meet up with the 6th Raiding Flotilla in an hour, and from there we hit the Hoc Relay. Dismissed." Jane says, snapping a salute quickly followed by both John, and the rest of the humans in the room. Well, and Garrus too, but other than that Wrex and Nihlus just nod.
...
Theseus system, Attican beta
Sixth Raiding Flotilla, SSV Caucasus.
14:27
Admiral Oleg Petrovsky paced down the walkway of his flagship, the Caucasus. Named for one of the bigger mountain ranges in Russia, it was his pride as a commanding Admiral. Armed to the teeth in the style so often connected to the Russian armies of old, it was not as fast or agile as the Kilimanjaro, or the Hong Kong, but it had one thing above both of them.
Thicker hide and sharper teeth.
The main gun was a second-generation model, capable of firing a twenty-five kilo slug at the enemy with three seconds in-between, instead of the regular four. While this wouldn't seem significant to the layman, Oleg knew it could and would, be the decisive factor in a naval battle. If two Dreadnoughts faced off, the one which could fire its ammunition away the fastest, would be the one to survive.
The fact that the ship was so much less agile than its counterparts captained by Anna Fisher, Mikhailovich or Hackett, was because engine-power originally intended for the thrusters had been diverted to the shields, giving the Caucasus the position of being the only current Alliance ship capable of withstanding the full blow from the Destiny Ascension with regular shields, those before Fisher had come up with the Mithril's superior protection. Now?
Now it was the Megatherium among the Everest-class dreadnoughts. A lumbering, practically indestructible giver of pain.
Aside from that, the Mithril-shielding coated a thick, robust frame of Titanium P-steel alloys, intermingled with carbon nanotubes as well as hardened ablative ceramics and dampeners to suck up the vibrations inevitably produced when a slug hit the ship. The hull bore many scars, the most superficial having been spared in the annual repairs as they gave a ship a certain spirit, in the admiral's eyes.
A ship with no scars was like a soldier with no dirt on his cheeks and no horror in his memories: Unproven.
Each broadside was outfitted with twenty 120mm guns, pairs of them dotting the hull in ten strategically important places on both the top and the bottom-side. While not as big as the singular guns positioned, one on each side with enough power to cut down a frigate in one blow, they could tear it apart in just as little time, given enough guns pointed at the same target.
"Admiral, we're being hailed. Scans mark the source as the SSV Normandy." He was brought from his thoughts by Lieutenant Tanya Pavelonya, one of the permanent members of his crew, and an old friend as well. She had the role as a 'glorified mailman' with her own words. She was alright though, but preferred field-duty to that of standing around on the bridge.
Petrovsky placed himself at the helm before nodding, signaling for her to open up a connection. He had always thought it weird, if not about damn time, that a Quarian was given a chance in the Alliance. Now he just needed to see what this John'Shepard could do with himself. The screen above the inner bridge turned on, revealing the image of a smaller bridge, mostly a CIC at best, as well as two people with clear Alliance insignias on their uniforms.
One was a red-haired woman, possibly in her early thirties, with a few scars going across her face. Oleg assumed she would have to be a fellow soldier, going also from the way she stood. On her shoulder was the mark of Alliance Captain, making her the Commander's actual superior. Odd, as he hadn't been told of a new leadership on the Normandy.
Next to her, and standing atop the small podium before the screen, the Quarian in question was standing tall as well. His marks were those of a Lieutenant-Commander, making him the leader of the frigate's rumored ground teams, as well as the Shepard he had been waiting for. He had the blue colors of the Alliance draped over a dark-green suit, with a azure faceplate covering the space where the simple, but intricate patterns of the dark-green Realk opened up.
"Admiral Petrovsky. Commander John'Shepard and Jane Shepard reporting the Normandy ready for link-up and transit. We are ten-thousand kilometers out, expecting link-up in seven minutes." The Quarian said, snapping to a salute, as did the woman and those of the crew he could catch a glimpse of through the screen's edges.
"At ease Commander, Captain. It's good to see you Shepard...s, at last. Before we hit the Relay, I'll give you the run-down. As you know, we have all reason to believe that Saren Arterius is hiding on Virmire. While this would normally be a job for the tenth response Fleet, they took severe casualties over Valhalla. The Raiders are here to finish the job. I want the Normandy to go in first, using your stealth-engines to get a proper look at our opposition, then signal us back with any data you find. When the rest of the sixth fleet jumps in, we will engage whatever enemies are in the system, clearing a path for us to bombard Virmire from orbit. Your only job in this mission will be to scout out the enemy, not to engage them. The Normandy is too valuable to lose in battle. Do you understand me Officers?" He demanded. He might respect the Quarian people, as well as carry slight admiration for the Quarian commander, but this was his mission, and he was going to run it by the book.
"Absolutely sir. I'll relay the orders to my crew." John'Shepard said.
"That will be all. Jump when you're ready Shepard." He said, receiving a nod from both of the officers. The screen then shut off, leaving the bridge to resume duties while he watched the computers show the Normandy skip past the Raiders, then hit the Relay with a surge of power before disappearing into the void.
Strange, to have two officers from different species with the same last name, He thought, looking over the crew. He then sifted through the haptic displays in front of his chair, checking the positions and status of his seventy ships. One Dreadnought, ten cruisers and sixty frigates was what he had to work with. Most Admirals would have been annoyed at the low number of cruisers, but he was never one for stagnant combat. His tactics were, and would always be, to use his own flagship as the damage-taker, while his cruisers and wolf-packs flanked his enemy and gave them the Coup de grace.
What did annoy him though, was knowing next to nothing about his enemy.
...
"Well, that's one piece of good news." Jane said, taking a more relaxed stance after the display turned back to the Galactic map.
"I know. It's more than good news though." John said, leaning against the railing in front of him; "First, we'll have numerous ships with us, and we won't have to go groundside after all. Both were factors you had to do, right?" He said, looking at the Captain.
"Yeah... and then the shit started falling apart. I honestly can't understand why Kirrahe was so opposed to the idea of just nuking the place." Jane muttered, a flash of pain going over her eyes. To John, it was evident she remembered a less-than pleasant memory, probably due to the fact that Jane, as well as her entire crew, had been killed on Virmire.
"Kirrahe?" John said, turning around to lean against the wall, bracing himself for the tug a transit would cause.
"Salarian STG. When we went to Virmire, it was because the Council sent us there to find out why Kirrahe and his men had stopped transmitting. Was supposed to just be a check-up, but we were almost shot down by Saren's forces, and then we had to nuke the place... leave it to a Salarian with balls of steel to devise a plan involving nuclear weapons." She muttered, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.
"So... if they are on Virmire, why haven't we heard from them? Or the Council for that matter?" John asked, furrowing a pair of silver brows behind his mask.
"Don't know really. Maybe they're dead already, or they never went there. Either way, the Council doesn't seem to have been notified of anything."
"Great... so, we could be flying into a death-trap because the Big Three didn't bother pursuing Saren thoroughly enough. Have I ever mentioned I don't like the Council much?" John sighed, remembering how they had eaten him up after Noveria. Apparently they had been more focused on the fact that he had failed to retrieve a live specimen of the hostile aliens, than on the fact that not only did he lose people, hundreds of civilians died, and Cerberus were there.
"Believe me, compared to how they treated me, you're having it easy. At least they seem to believe in the Reapers here. I still remember how Valern, that shit, called them a myth, and Tevos started belittling me right from day one. And don't get me started on Sparatus." She growled, causing John to raise his brows in surprise.
"But... you were a Spectre, right? Shouldn't that mean, I dunno, that they would believe what you said?" John said, confused. He knew the Council was unwilling to take new facts at face value from even military commanders, but shouldn't they at least believe the people they themselves put in office, or on the ground as a Spectre?
"Ha! John, if there's one thing I learned about politics in Citadel space those months, it's that Tevos is the ruler, and Tevos, being an Asari Matriarch, has a very stagnated view of the world. She's a dull, ignorant, superior and annoying woman. Gods I loathed when she began her usual 'Saren is the threat here, humanity is in need of our protection, you should, you have to, you need to, yada yada yada." She scowled, starting down the path towards the cockpit. John followed.
"That bad, huh?"
"Yeah... Anyway, we should probably tell the crew we won't be planet-side anyway. I can imagine more than a few of them will be relieved." Jane said. She didn't say it, but John had known her long enough to know what she was thinking. Virmire, where Jane had lost her life. As odd as it was, John had a feeling Corporal Fisher had some sort of ties to the change of events.
"How about you Capta- Jane?" He said, changing words as he saw the look in her eyes. He couldn't describe it, but there was a sort of deep pained relief and sorrow, almost shame, in her eyes.
"If I'll be relieved?" She said, giving him a tired, flat look. John just nodded, walking next to her along the CIC.
"When I can hold Saren's head in my hands... when all of this is over, when things make sense again and I don't have to worry about being harvested by a genocidal machine. That's when I'll be okay. I've lost too much to be okay otherwise." She muttered. John didn't know much about human body language, safe for a few of them being similar to Quarian body language. A curled fist shaken at someone was a threat, for one. And weariness, bitterness and overall tired behavior like what his technically superior officer was showing, were some of the signs from loss, trauma and emotional pain.
Strange really, that he hadn't seen it before.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked with a careful voice as they stopped on the stairs.
"Not really... why do you?" She asked, almost bit back at him.
"I am not the best to talk here, I know. I've never lost in the way I bet you have. My parents? sure, but my dad died before I was born, and my mother died in childbirth. The person I know as a mother these days... she's safe, admiral and all." He muttered, thinking back to his reunion with Shala'Raan. She had been his mother's best friend, and his own surrogate mother through all of his life.
When he tried thinking about his mother, Shala was the person he ended up thinking about, even if he knew it was wrong.
"Again, why do you want to talk about it commander?" Jane said, not meeting his eyes.
"I don't, but I think you need to. A person, no matter the species, can only take so much pain before needing an outlet. Sometimes, that's talking about what bothers you, and sometimes that's losing it in the field." He said, his voice low enough that only she could hear it.
"John...I Don't Need Help." She muttered with a voice that could have scared Wrex away.
"The way you carry yourself doesn't support you. Kazuat Jane, the mere word 'Virmire' makes you pale and shiver. Don't think I haven't seen it." He said, grabbing a hold of her shoulder. He was rewarded for his trouble by being grabbed and slammed into the wall himself. Jane kept a hand spread out on his upper chest, just a few inches from a strangling grip;
"Dont go there. Don't ever talk about this again, you get it? My past is no one's busyness, and while I can't make Fisher or his retarded friend Tengberg unknow it, I sure as hell don't need more people starting to pamper me with their bullshit. Now, can you consider the subject dropped?" She demanded. Looking into her eyes through his mask, John could see the red veins spreading more than they should. Not feeling sure on what to say, he instead opted to nod.
Jane let him go, sighed and turned down the stairs without a word.
John was left on the stairs, rubbing his sore chest for a minute. He knew what she was going through, or at least somewhat. Might not be his job, but Quarians were social people. He wanted and needed to make sure the people on the ship he had been put in charge of, were somewhat sane and sound. He had been asking around, with Fisher in particular, what Jane's story was.
To say he had been mildly surprised was a subtle way to put it, as well as a major understatement.
"Humans." He scoffed, looking after the captain as she disappeared into the messhall.
...
"Saren. We have... ships, just outside the system. Many ships, human ships." Kirrahe mumbled, his body trying to remain straight despite the majority of his mind having been destroyed by the pearl Saren had placed around his neck. It wasn't there anymore, didn't have to be.
It had done its job well.
Saren looked down at the Salarian, feeling a brief moment of guilt. He had ruined a perfect organism, a very useful Salarian that could have secured him an entrance in the STG, and maybe even further. But, Sovereign was right, of course. They needed him to be loyal, and he hadn't been loyal if they hadn't used the pearl.
He knew it was right. After all, he had one around his own neck as well. He knew it was risky, but it was a more direct way of communicating with Sovereign than through the primitive and crude FTLC-arrays and buoys in space. Sovereign's way was... divine.
"Do they know we are here?" He asked, placing a patronizing, if comforting hand on the Salarian's shoulder.
"They are holding at the Relay... we don't know why. Maybe they don't know we're here."
"How many?" Saren asked, no demanded. He had to demand from his workers, they needed to feel the weight he felt on his shoulders. If he was to save organic life, he needed Sovereign to be satisfied with his work.
"Seventy-one ships. One is a dreadnought, but they aren't moving. Don't know why, we don't... know why." Kirrahe muttered, visibly annoyed that he couldn't wipe away the glob of drool from his mouth. He was using the hand on the wrong side though, so he didn't wipe the right place. Still, it did hurt Saren a little, to be forced to ruin organic life like this.
"Hmm... let's wait and see. If they don't approach the planet, they haven't discovered us yet. If they do... Sovereign and I will send up the destroyers. Their divine purpose will shatter whatever forces the humans have assembled." He said, his face twisting into a dark scowl before softening again.
"Come... let's go back inside." He said, gently leading Kirrahe back down below the surface of the planet.
...
SSV Normandy
Deck 2. Mess hall, Med-bay and Captain's quarters.
14:37
"So... we won't be going planet-side anyway?" I ask, looking at Jane from above the edge of my tea-cup.
"Nope. Petrovsky is going to have us scout out the Hoc system, and then he will take his fleet in, kick whatever asses might be there and bombard Virmire from orbit. Easy as cake." Jane says, smiling a little. Can't say I'm disappointed really. Virmire is where everything went FUBAR, so honestly?
I'm glad we won't be going there.
"Nice. So we just what, sit tight and enjoy the show?" Tequila says, looking up from her datapad. I think she's reading a novel, maybe a classic even. Heck if I know though, my sense of realism with books went down the drain when I found an Asari reading Austin.
"Pretty much. Stay ready though, just in case." Jane says, exiting the room again. On her way up, she somehow bumps into John, the Quarian taking an effort to put some distance between them. strange...
"Is this seat free?" He asks, walking over to me, Ash and Tequila, the latter not even looking up from her reading.
"It's a free country... wait, is the Normandy a... never mind, just sit." I say, nodding to him. John pulls out a chair before dumping himself in it in a rather un-commander-like fashion. To top it off, he sighs like someone who hasn't gotten enough sleep.
"Kazuat... it's come to this, huh?" He mutters, resting his head on his crossed arms on the table. Ash looks at him, then at me with a small amount of worry in her eyes.
"Hey, look on the bright side. We're not going down there ourselves." I say, slapping his back.
"Yeah... I guess that's something. I know Jane went down there, things didn't go well for her." He says. For a moment, I can sense his eyes going somewhere near Ash, as if to imply the unspeakable.
"I know. But don't be too hard on her Commander, she's been through a lot of shit." Ash says, causing me to look up from the Quarian next to me, to my girlfriend. She raises a pair of brows at me from my look;
"What?" She says.
"You defending Jane? Never thought I'd see the day" I say, placing a hand on hers under the table, squeezing it gently.
"Hey, don't get me wrong here. I still don't like what she did in her past, with Virmire and me and shit, but..."
"But?" I say.
"I don't know, just seems wrong to be so pissed at her for everything she's been through. Didn't she lose her lover too?"
"Right, someone from the Normandy... must have been a private contractor though, or maybe someone I replaced..." I mutter, trying to remember if Jane ever spilled his name.
"Why would that be?" Tequila asks, glancing up from her datapad while scrolling down to a new page.
"Have you seen her with anyone lately? As in romantic-with-anyone? If the guy had been a crewmember on the ship, he should be here before I got here. And no one was killed before we got Jane, plus there weren't any contractors from what I remember from Hudson's version." I say, briefly wondering why Garrus wasn't an option in the first game. At least I don't think he was, never found a vid with him and Jane in Mass Effect 1. Strange... it wasn't a crewmember, or if it wasn't a crewmember... who then?
"So... she lost someone. Fine. Is this even our business? I doubt she would like us discussing her dead lovers... lover, I mean." Ash says, ending the conversation with her tone.
"Alright, seeing as we have some new-found free time, I have another question: Thomas, your aunt, or sister or whatever she is, she's an admiral, right?" Tequila says. There's a curious tone to her voice, one not really similar to her usual gritty demeanor.
"Yeah?"
"And she should have some sort of knowledge of where that Kasumi woman is, right?" She says, a small grin slowly drawing itself up over her cheeks.
"Should do, yeah. I think Kasumi works for her... only explanation how Anna can come up with these things." I say, gesturing for my armor. I was ready to go into battle here, don't blame me for sitting fully armored in the mess.
"So, she should be able to give this Kasumi a message, right?" She says. Now, Ash has abandoned the idea of getting coffee, instead looking at the Hispanic woman as she seems to be reaching some sort of point.
"Yeah?"
"Then bloody-fuck tell her, to tell Kasumi about 'Order sixty-six'! I mean, come on it's a golden opportunity here!" She exclaims, throwing her arms into the air.
"Honestly Thomas, even I figured that one out..."
"Shut it..."
"Right... good idea." I mutter, deciding to get it out of the world as fast as I can. Thát, and knowing somewhere, Ashoka will survive and still be a Jedi. Maybe... Do I sound fucking nuts like this?
"A little..." Instead of answering Roku, I bring up my Omni-tool and start typing out a message. I stop myself though, not knowing what to say.
"So ehm... how do I tell her?" I ask Tequila, receiving a tired, disbelieving sigh from Ash. Apparently the idea of interacting with other universes or galaxies is a strange idea to her. Well, it is to me as well, but...
"Oh, I dunno... how about you just write her and say: Oh yeah by the way... that galaxy Kasumi's in right now? It's being manipulated by an evil overlord who is at the moment their chancellor called Palpatine... who plans to set himself up as sole dictator to rule through fear and oppression... you might want to warn them 'bout that." She says, grinning like it's the proudest moment in her life.
"You want... seriously?" I say, cocking a brow. While it does sound like just the kind of talk Anna would understand, I'm not sure how professional it sounds.
"Why not?"
"What, you want me to add Anakin is banging Senator Padme Amidala as well?"
"Sure, why not? Or... wait, that would probably be a bad thing, wouldn't it?" She says, catching herself in her enthusiasm.
"Yeah... maybe I'll just stick to the first thing you said... repeat please?" I say, typing in what I remember before nodding at her.
"Ehm... right, I said that... that universe kasumi's in right now? It's being manipulated by some evil overlord who is their chancellor called Palpatine, old guy... who plans to set himself up as sole dictator to rule through fear and oppression... Anna might want to warn them 'bout that.." Tequila says, speaking slowly to allow me to write. Finishing the mail, I shake my head before pressing send.
Anna's going to have a stroke
"I swear, listening to the two of you..." Ash says, shaking her head with a small smile.
"Don't worry Ashley, I won't steal him. Besides, I think I saw this beef of an Hispanic earlier. Big, muscled guy, Mohawk and everything. Nice tattoos too." She grins, obviously remembering an eye-treasure.
"I thought you and Ten- Nicolai had something going?" Ash says, shooting her a glance while rubbing my thigh under the table. A small flare of heat goes through my body at her touch.
"I don't... know. I mean, yeah he's cute, and fit, but... he's four years younger than me. That's... a bit much, I dunno, but the way he behaves, it makes him look like a child sometimes." She mumbles, looking down into her datapad. Trying to avoid what'll be an embarrassing conversation, I look to John, only to find the Commander has left the table. How did I not notice that?
"Hormones were distracting you, caused by physical contact with Ashley Williams."
"Right..."
"Hey, remember who you're talking to here. I'm twenty-five, Thomas is twenty one. Same difference in age, and we get along just fine. Besides, he definitely acts like a child more than often." Ash grins, giving my shoulder a light shove. What? I thought she was twenty-seven... better not say that.
"Really? I thought you were younger, maybe twenty-three" Tequila says.
"Well, these days there isn't that much of a difference. Most people live to past hundred, so twenty-three or twenty-five doesn't make much difference. If you have genetic enhancements, you can go on kicking to past the next forties." Ashley says, a soft hum in her voice. Strange, but I figure getting good news, like not going to Virmire, might do that to a person's mood.
"I get it, I get it... maybe I should give Nicolai a chance. See what kind of guy he really is... but damn you if he wants me in a tin-foil miniskirt and boots!" She exclaims, looking annoyed. Both me and Ash stop what we're doing and look at her, a bit worried.
Then Tequila starts laughing.
Not sure why it's funny, I still can't help myself but laugh as well. Ash seems to know, as her laugher is much more lively and normal.
...
"Alright Joker, see if you can't get us close enough to see Virmire out the window." Jane said, leaning against the frame to the cockpit's entrance.
"Hey what do you take me for, a Turian? It'll be easy." The pilot said, adjusting his cap before letting his fingers dance over the controls and displays.
"Just don't scratch the paint." Jane said, casting a final look over the cockpit before she left Joker, and Lieutenant Alenko, to their job.
"She doesn't think I can fly." Joker remarked, nodding after the Captain.
"Jane gave you a simple order, so she thinks lowly of you?" Kaidan asked, keeping his eyes on the interfaces.
"It's just a feeling, like she thinks I'm going to get her killed or something. Yeah right, I bet she thinks she'll die because I don't follow her orders and then she gets spaced or shot or burned... never mind." He said, cutting himself off before someone else heard him.
"Jane's been through a lot. For someone in her position, I'd say being a bit paranoid is a healthy thing. Besides, wasn't it you who said 'Spectres are trouble, I don't like having them onboard'?" Kaidan mused, keeping his eyes on the optical interfaces symbolizing Virmire a few hundred thousand miles away.
"Yeah, and I was right, wasn't I? Saren, the geth, creepy plant-zombies, human tech-zombies... what's next, Earthbending Krogan?" The pilot said with his usual, snarky voice. Kaidan cocked a brow;
"Krogan what-now?" He said, looking away from the screens to focus on the half-crazed pilot.
"Aw come on Kaidan. Don't tell me you never watched cartoons. Or what, they banned those at Camp d' Brain?" Joker exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. A rather risky move for someone who could break said hands if they landed wrong.
"Didn't do much cartoon, no... we were only allowed to watch one hour each week, and that was usually granted the youngest, as they had the hardest time on the station." Kaidan said. There was a tone of sadness in his voice, brought out by the memories of what had happened at BAaT.
"You're shitting me. What did the rest of you do then, play cards? Throw rocks and sticks?"
"Cards. I got really got at Poker back then. Could probably rip you off for everything you own." Kaidan said, smiling softly. He didn't say it, but cards was how he had met Rahna. They had been enjoying a quiet night of cards when his new dorm buddy had been introduced, rather unceremoniously, by their sadistic Turian teacher, Vyrnnus. It had been a little awkward, at first, but Kaidan had found her to be similar to him in many ways.
All the more reason he was crushed when she became terrified of him after Vyrnnus' death.
"Yeah right. Just remember, everything I own is technically Alliance property, so you'd be court-martialed for beating me." Joker replied, grinning as they passed Prescyla, the outermost planet in the system. Cloroplon was on the other side of the system at the time, meaning they would have to waste fuel on avoiding its gravitational well. Joker shook his head, then looked back to Kaidan;
"Well, Krogan Earthbenders, to return to the former subject, my good Alenko. There was this show, long, long ago. You know, back in the stone age, about a world where people could control the four elements. It was all humans, of course, but later on they remade it with a real movie and had different races play parts in it. The Krogan were Earthbenders, because they were solid and strong. The Quarians were waterbenders, the humans were... well, everything, and the Turians got firebending. Asari got airbending. And then each race had one person, an Avatar they called it, who could bend everything at once. Like a demigod. Really cool story, and the effects blow you away." Joker exclaimed, joy on his face. He had watched the movie, and he had loved every second of it.
"I'm not sure I like the idea of a Krogan that can spew fire, Joker." Kaidan said.
"Okay, thát settles it! When it's my turn to pick a film, I'm damn well putting 'The Legend of Weyrloc Doorn' on. Damn that was a good movie." He grinned, watching as the ship's scanners started their work around the system.
"I'm sure it was." Kaidan chuckled, looking at his own displays. If there was one thing you could say about Joker, it was that you were never bored in his company.
"Well, they actually made not one, but four..." Joker started but was cut off by the red lights appearing on his screens; "Ah shit, there goes our vacation." He muttered, pressing a finger to his ear; "Shepard...s, you better get up here." He said, broadcasting his voice over the intercoms.
A series of red dots, four in total, were appearing on his screens. They seemed to be hovering in orbit around Virmire, cloaked from regular scans by some sort of stealth-systems that put the Normandy's to shame. Jeff just hoped they couldn't see his ship, or it would be a short-lived recon.
The sound of hammering boots caused him to look back. John'Shepard and Jane Shepard were closing in on the cockpit, the Captain visibly annoyed.
"What is it Joker? Did you scratch the paint?" She asked, leaning over his chair's back.
"Bit- Captain, please. We've got four signatures in orbit around Virmir- wait, make that five... holy hell that's a big one!" He cursed, seeing the fifth dot. Ladar-scans marked it as above Dreadnought size, and thus the type of ship that had inflicted so much damage over Valhalla.
"Fuck! This is going to complicate things... have they reacted to us yet?" Jane demanded more than asked.
"Nope, nothing yet. They are facing the Relay, but no movements yet. Could be orbital defenses, if we're lucky." Joker muttered. John shot him a glance under his helmet.
"And what if we're not lucky?" He asked, causing the pilot to swallow before looking at him.
"Then we have four of those crab-thingies and a squid-thingy... I don't know if that Admiral has enough ships." He said, feeling a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.
"Can you get any closer to the planet?" Jane asked, leaning even more over his chair. If she slipped, Joker was a little nervous she might break his shoulder.
"Can I? Yeah... do I want to? Nope! Those things, if they can cloak from even the Normandy's systems aside from the Ladar... I don't wanna give them a chance to break my baby. I just got her re-painted and everything!" He said, looking up at Jane. John shook his head, placing a hand on Jane's shoulder.
"We need to head back then. We can't get more Intel if we get shot to pieces. I don't know if you were conscious after Valhalla, Jane, but I saw how much wreckage a single of those big ships left behind. We are not taking that chance with the Normandy." He stated.
For a moment, it looked as if Jane was going to retort. Instead, she just shot him a look before turning to Joker again;
"Fine... Joker, get us back to the Relay. We need to tell Petrovsky about this." She said.
"Yeah right, because seventy ships can so much wipe out a flotilla bigger than what made crap out of Fisher's fleet... the Admiral, I mean."
"Jeff." Jane said with a low, menacing voice.
"Right right, running off, running off. Damn I'm glad I'm not an officer." He muttered, banking and turning the ship around.
"Joker, you're a flight-lieutenant. That makes you an officer." Kaidan said, keeping an eye on the signals emitted by the ships. His eyes widened due to what he saw; "Commander, Captain, we've got a problem."
"What?" They both said in unison.
"The ships are moving. The biggest is heading for the planet, but the four others? Guess where they are heading." He said.
"A wild guess says 'the beach'?" Joker tried with a nervous tinge to his voice.
"Kazuat, they are heading towards us, aren't they?" John cursed, looking at the displays. The four dots were two-hundred and fifty-seven thousand miles out, and closing fast.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Kaidan, give me full power to engines!" Joker exclaimed, dancing his fingers so fast over the displays, any other would have thought he was playing with it.
"Full power!"
"Hang on everyone, this is going to rock your asses!" He called out, having already tied himself up in his chair. Kaidan did the same.
...
"Ehm... why are the alarms going off?" I ask, looking at the red lights dancing over the ceiling.
"Don't look at me, I didn't blow anything up." Wrex says. He came up a few minutes after John left, apparently needing coffee. Didn't know Krogans liked that.
"So, do we just sit heeeeee!" Tequila starts, but a sudden shift in the floor, as well as general gravity, lifts us all into the air.
"Okay, I really don't like this!" I exclaim, trying to hold onto the table. Wrex doesn't fare much better, flailing in the air like a Krogan in a singularity. Wait, that wasn't a good one.
"I liked it."
"Tha- Roku, what the hell is going on!?" I shout in my head, watching as Chakwas bumps against the glass to the med-bay.
"Hold on to something!" Okay, this can't be good.
"This is why I never joined the air force! I hate flying!" Tequila shouts. Ash is already clinging to the beam going from the ceiling and to the space above the table. Then , a new tug.
Apparently, when the gravity in a ship is turned off, it's the same effect as when you have a balloon in a moving car with wind coming through it. Except, this is a spaceship, and... we're the balloons.
"FUUUUUUUUUUCK!" I can only bellow and curse as I'm hurled through the room, heading straight down the line to gunnery-control.
Slam!
Okay, not straight down! Hitting the sleeper-pods seems to be part of-
Crash!
Fucking ow! I hit a new pod, this one going loose and following me on my way down the corridor. As if to mock me, the universe has me hitting the wall face-first, probably breaking... yeah, my nose just broke. Great! Now-
That's when the pod slams into me, cementing the point by hitting me in the ass first, the toppling over before hitting me in the back of the head.
...
Theseus system , Attican beta
Sixth Raiding Flotilla, SSV Caucasus.
15:11
Petrovsky was not the general 'man of patience' that most people would think an Admiral needed to be. Had he been, he would not be where he was now. He would probably still be a general, or maybe even still a regular officer in the Navy. Instead, he was one of the most influential admirals in the Systems Alliance, ranking along with Fisher, Kahoku and Mikhailovich, and just beneath Stephen Hackett.
He got there, by being aggressive. The Bear of the Alliance, as people, aliens and humans both called him. In a way, his warship reflected well upon that name, being the heaviest dreadnought in the Alliance. Sure, it was not the fastest, or the one with the most updated technology in sensory equipment or communications, but it had one thing that it did better than most of its peers.
It was a damnable good killing machine.
"Admiral, the Normandy is hailing us again." Lieutenant Pavelonya called from her station next to his captain's seat. Even if he respected the Quarians', and by extension the Turians' way of warfare and ships, he couldn't understand or get around why they needed a captain's seating so far from all the stations. Where he was sitting, there was at most five meters to the nearest station or seating, and he preferred it like that. Let him keep an eye and ear on his crew.
"Open comms." He called out, turning his eyes to the screen above the map. A second of flickering, and the image of Commander and Captain Shepard came to view. While he couldn't see the Quarian's face for obvious reasons, Jane seemed to be somewhat ruffled.
"Report." He said, folding his hands in front of his face while leaning on his elbows.
"Sir, enemy presence confirmed. Reported four destroyer-class hostile ships headed towards the Relay, as well as one Valhalla-Class Dreadnought. We are stealthed, but our scans seem to have alerted them to our presence. Be warned, hostiles possess advanced cloaking, might not show up on passive scans." The human Shepard said. Petrovsky took a moment to gather his thoughts.
"Are they going to pass through the Relay?"
"If they don't shoot us to pieces, that seems to be where they are headed, yes." John'Shepard said.
"Good. Captain, Commander, you have permission to retreat to a safe location of your choosing. Just remain within contact-range. Petrovsky out." He said, ending the transmission. He then turned to his bridge, all who had heard the conversation sat motionless. Slowly, he got up from his seat.
"Sixth Fleet! I want a ring concentrated on ten-thousand kilometers around the exit-point of the Relay. Frigates, you will be going in from behind the Relay itself while the Cruisers will hit the hostiles from the side! I will take the flagship and base it in front of the Relay itself. When the first confirmed hostiles are through, the Caucasus will open fire from the front. The Wolf packs will hit them from behind. The Cruisers will then join the attack while concentrating on hitting them from below. Intel suggests their undersides are the only viable weak-point. Now go, go, go!" He bellowed, watching with pride as the crew sprang into action.
All across the fleet, his orders were carried out by loyal and steadfast men and women. The Russian Federation, one of the biggest spenders in the Alliance, produced sailors and marines almost equal to none. They possessed a grit and determination that often baffled their peers when it brought results, and brought about talk of 'fanatism' and 'brainwashing' when they lost, fighting to the last man.
The tug as his massive ship moved into position caused Petrovsky to look at his crew. They were, sort of, an extended family. He had Mariah at home, of course, as well as Sanye and Petra, his two daughters. They were his family, but his crew and fleet was his second family.
"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Tanya asked from beside him. Hesitating for just a moment, he nodded, looking at her. She was pretty, in her own, strangely boyish way. Cheek-length brown hair, a scar disfiguring her left cheek from chin to ear, and grey eyes. No long eyelashes though, as many of his other female crew had.
Long eyelashes tended to get in the way when aiming through the optic sights of a Dragunov Mk 9.
"Sir... these things took out more than a hundred of Admiral Anna Fisher's ships, and she had a lot more cruisers than we have... how big are our chances of escaping this with our lives?" She asked. There was not doubt in her eyes, never in hers. But there was worry, and maybe a little fear. Fear, he thought to himself, was a good thing. A man cannot be brave, unless he is acting in the face of fear. With no fear, bravery cannot be.
"Escape was never much of a guarantee, just a luxury Tanya. Even so... I am not afraid. I know I might lose many lives today, maybe even my own. But if we can make a difference in the long run, it will be worth it." He said, looking ahead instead of at her. He then did look at her; "However, I am confident that we can beat these things." He said with a small smile. It was forced, of course.
Even the Bear of the Alliance was afraid at times.
At the moment though, Oleg Petrovsky could only watch while his orders were carried out, and his fleet moved into position around the Relay.
"Wolf-pack standing by." His frigates called in. Mayo Stukov was the Captain in charge of the formation, the same man Petrovsky had had with him on Pragia.
"Task Force 'Red October' standing by" Colonel Victor Tokev said from his side of the communications.
"Caucasus standing by." His own helmsmen called from the frontmost parts of the bridge.
"Shields at 120%" His crew reported from the left side of the bridge.
"Barriers ready" Came another report.
"Main weapons online. Ready to do some damage" Gunnery called from the right side of the bridge.
"Secondary weapons loaded and ready." Second Gunnery called form next to the main Gunnery.
"Turrets online and ready." The ships VI reported. While the main and secondary weapons were controlled by human hands, the GARDIAN-lasers were controlled by an advanced target-locking VI. Humans would never be fast enough to aim at fighters from a relatively stationary platform that was a Dreadnought.
Oleg opened communications to the entire fleet for what he hoped would not be the last time.
"This is it people. We have served together since the First Contact War. I don't know all of you, but you are all my crew, therefore all my family by rule and mind. We have come far, since we found we were not alone in the cosmos. We have met trial, and defeat. We have met triumph, and victory. We have lost some, and gained others in our group. We may be just another fleet, just another group of sailors banded together under a single admiral. Or, we may be a 'band of brothers and sisters', Братья по оружию. No matter what we are, we all know what the enemy is... Scrap metal." He growled the last part, audibly enough for everyone to hear and understand.
"Sir, the Relay is activating!" Reading extremely dense Element Zero concentrations focused in four separate points! Wait! Not four, there are... ten... ten contacts!" A tech called out. Petrovsky placed his cap upon his dark hairs, and stood against the railing by his chair.
Ten hostiles... that was far above the four he had prepared for. He was going to lose men now, no chance of anything else.
"This is it everyone. On my command, engage all hostiles." He stated, breathing in a heavy portion of air. It felt like he was breathing iron. Statistically, he had a clear advantage. Seventy-one ships, including a dreadnought, against ten hostiles.
Then, the Relay spewed forth ten crab-like objects, each the size of an Asari Cruiser. They only showed up when their engines flared, carrying them towards their target: The lone SSV Caucasus sitting seemingly alone in space.
Oleg gave them a fast glance, feeling his heart skip a beat. Then, he looked at the displays in front of him, containing the signal for the strike to begin. He pressed it.
Previously cloaked, the sixty frigates now appeared on his screens, behind the incoming forces. They all opened fire at once, hundreds of streaks of light soaring towards their intended targets, followed by as many slowed, pulsating spheres of plasma as the Mk IV plasma torpedoes dragged tails of loose gas across the void.
Then, they hit.
In a grand-scale show of colors, magnetism and destruction, torpedoes and hypersonic slugs impacted on the shields of the insectoid ships, seemingly catching them completely by surprise.
"Eat this you bastards!" A voice jeered over the communications. At the same time, a swarm of rockets, their heat-trails visible to the naked eye even from where the Caucasus sat, soared through the void. Like a nest of wasps having been kicked open, they bathed the rear-most enemy ships in fragments and fire.
They caused little to no damage, but caused the ships to turn around on the spot, a move that would have snapped any normal ship in half and shattered even the wrecks from the G-force, as well as turn their crews into mashed potatoes.
And yet, they were still functioning.
"Red October, commence assault." Petrovsky said, watching as the displays grew with the additional ten heavy cruisers flashing into view on the radar.
The Crab-ships were occupied with heading towards the Wolf packs, the frigates having divided into small groups of six ships each, so as to have one group for each enemy ship. With the speed only a frigate could muster, they raced through the void, leaving a constant barrage of turret and rocket-fire in their wakes.
"Understood Admiral. All ships, it's time for killing!" The gruff voice of Sasha Tokev came in through the comms. She and Victor Tokev were known as the 'Sixth siblings' as they both served as commanders in the heavy cruisers of the sixth fleet.
"Hey you! Catch!" The voice of the male Tokev rang out. At the same time, the entire battle-group unloaded every single rocket and torpedo loaded and ready. The storm of projectiles floating towards their targets would have caused the captain of any dreadnought to turn his ship around on the spot. Strangely though, the Crab-ships didn't seem to care.
Instead of breaking formation in a disorderly mass, their group split in three, one chasing after the frigates, one after the cruisers and one for the dreadnought.
"Helm, fire the main gun and our missiles repeatedly until the enemy in within broadside range. Then turn our side to them and fire all weapon emplacements. When the enemy ships reach effective firing range of GARDIAN-lasers, shift to ultraviolet frequency and start carving them up. At that point, shut down all unnecessary power-usage and divert everything to weapons and shields. Commence!" He bellowed over the bridge.
From outside the hull, a slight trembling could be felt as the main gun charge the first slug to full capacity. then, a bright explosion of paling, blue light as the twenty-five kilo, solid shell consisting of a tungsten-round, tipped with a phased SABOT-shell durable enough to break a cruiser in two. Had the void had gravity, the effect would have been similar to when a torpedo had impacted a warship of old in the oceans of Mother Earth.
Within the blink of an eye, the slug had travelled the distance between the opposing forces and hit the front of the first destroyer. As could be expected, the impact created a flash of gargantuan dimensions, briefly hiding the ship from view behind a curtain of lights and flame.
Since the slug travelled at One-point-one percent of light speed, it was way ahead of the rest of the armaments flung at the crab-like ships. As was the next shot, likewise striking the lead-ship. The next one though, had to traverse the metallic forest of rockets and ionized plasma-spheres. It still hit before those though, striking the same spot as the rounds before it with enough kinetic energy to wipe New York from the face of the Earth.
"Keep shooting, Gunnery." Oleg said, keeping his voice calm while his enemy advanced towards him. It was blissfully obvious that while they had shields stronger than what should be possible, they lacked for range. Something he intended to exploit.
The next round impacted at the same time as the forest of missiles and torpedoes, causing the ship's shields and barriers to flare brightly in a moment before exploding, coating said destroyer in golden and purple waves of energy.
"Gunnery, shift target. Computer, aim GARDIAN-systems at the unshielded hostile. Fire as soon as in range." He said, continuing to order his crew around.
"Admiral! We're taking casualties! Wolf-packs 1 and 5 are annihilated!" The scared voice of one of his captains came in over the comms. Petrovsky hammered the wall, gritting his teeth. The First Wolf-pack had been the one under Mayo's command, meaning the captain had been killed.
"Yob... Wolf-packs, take evasive action and try to hit them from below. Keep spread out, and keep your distance to them. You out-range them, use it to your advantage." He cursed, then resumed his normal voice. (fuck)
"Affirmative"
"Red October. Status?" He asked through the communications.
"We've lost the Stalingrad, but we have one of them turned wreck as well. Be careful sir, they cut the Stalingrad open by latching on to her hull. We managed to blow them away like cockroaches in the process, but the crew was spaced from her. No survivors from what I can see." The more calm voice of Victor Tokev said. The Russian Colonel was more seasoned and cautious than his sister, but he still had the aggressive trait Oleg valued.
"Gunnery, how are we doing?" He asked across the bridge.
"Enemy closing. GARDIAN-systems are doing their best to finish off the first ship, but we are too far away to do real damage that way. Orders?" The specialist manning the main station answered.
"Keep shooting. Get the heaviest armaments to break down their shields. If we can take those down before they come into firing-range we, we can do this."
" да, we'll kill them!" The techs called back as new vibrations told Oleg that his ship had just fired a new volley. He thanked the God of mankind that they had well-functioning loading systems, or they would not get nearly as many shots away.
On his displays, Oleg could see how the meters established over his enemies showed a significant drain in their shields from when the entire barrage hit them at once. Of course, the barrage was sufficient to take down the SSV Fuji, so it should not have been a surprise that they could damage his enemies. Still, it was startling how little effect the main gun of his dreadnought had. By all rights, one slug should have pierced their barriers and hulls in one go, if not two at most.
Yet it took three slugs from the main gun, plus the entire load-out of his vessel's rockets and torpedoes to bring down the shields of a single enemy.
"Sir, shields are down at destroyer two, but they are almost within range of our gun-emplacements. Should we keep up the firing, or turn our side to them?" The gunnery stations called out.
"Give them a broadside, full power to shields and weapons. Disable all non-vital power if needed." He responded. As if to answer him, the ship's lights dimmed to a red color, making it easier to see should the power disappear completely.
"Just another day at the office people. Just another day at the office." He muttered, bringing up the display showing an animated version of his ships exterior as well as power-levels throughout the One-point-two kilometer dreadnought. With the grace of a stinging Camel-spider, the gun-emplacements swung to meet the enemy. As soon as they had locked on, they started pumping out chemically propelled shells from a dual-set of 120mm barrels. Each shot caused a tiny dip in the bars showing the amount of shells remaining in stock. While gun-powder might not have the punching power of a rail-gun, it did have one advantage.
It didn't give a shit about shields.
He counted the second it took from the shots to be fired, to the next volley being sent off.
Boom-boom!
One...
Boom-boom!
Two
Boom-boom!
Three.
In a way, the way the guns fired reminded him of a beating heart. Each beat was a salvo of SABOT-rounds being fired at those who would harm the people of the galaxy, his galaxy. It was his home by birth and right, and Devil take him if he allowed an army of genocidal fish-ships to steamroll them all. The Council might not take them seriously, instead focusing all efforts on fortifying their Citadel and protecting their Homeworlds, but he would not just sit back and wait like a sheep for the slaughter.
Each shell went straight through its intended target's shields, somehow even ignoring the golden barrier he had dreaded would stop them. They each caused an explosion of fire and shrapnel to take place where the SABOT-rounds cut their way into the heavily armored hulls of their enemies. While the effect was not impressive from a single barrage, the continued shooting caused the armor of the first destroyer to buckle inwards with each shot. Each shell caused its dark, shimmering metallic hull to cave in a little, like poking at a piece of cardboard with a stick.
And just as with a stick on cardboard, the surface finally split open, ripped apart by the explosive force of pre-spaceflight ammunition.
As the first enemy crumbled to their punishing fire, the three others soared past it, not even bothering to attempt a rescue of the crew. Cynical bastards, Petrovsky thought, but straight-minded.
"Computer, time until GARDIAN-systems are effective?" He asked.
"Estimated time: twelve seconds." The synthetic voice responded.
"Charge the lasers then. Fire when optimal."
"Warning, warning! Unknown source attempting breach of security protocols... breach successssssssffffffuuuuuu..." Petrovsky felt his blood run cold as the lights suddenly turned completely off in his ship, causing momentary panic and chaos before the crew switched on their chest-mounted flashlights.
"Get us back online! Someone shut down the blue-box for the VI and regain control. If need be we do it all by hand, but get power back on!" He yelled, causing the non-essential crewmembers to sprint for the emergency-ladders leading to the local VI-room.
Waiting, he knew, was the worst part of a battle. Especially if the waiting was because your ship was turned off while your enemy closed in on you.
"How's it going down there?" He demanded, turning on his Omni-tool, setting it to fleet-wide contact;
"This is Admiral Petrovsky. Our ship is crippled from a hacking of all systems. We need someone to draw the enemy's attention away while we restore all power." He said, knowing what he was asking of his men.
"Bloodhound here. We're moving to support you admiral. ETA, twenty seconds!" Bloodhound called. It was the call-sign for Wolf-pack 4, and ought to be fast enough to reach his ship. If they could help him though, was another matter entirely.
"Acknowledged Bloodhound." He said, then turned to the VI-room; "Status!" He demanded.
"Fuck sir, this thing is fried beyond shutting down. We need to cut it out completely. That or..." A gunshot rang out, causing him to pull out his own sidearm. The lights suddenly came back on again, leaving him with the realization that he was an inch from falling down the shaft to the VI-control room.
Not the best position to be in. Walking back to his seat in a brisk pace, he brought his Omni-tool back up.
"Bloodhound, this is Caucasus. We are back online and restoring power. Can you grant us ten seconds to get back on our feet?"
"Easy as Bosh, sir. Strafing the bastards!" The voice said. As the displays started up again, Petrovsky saw the signatures of six frigates sweeping in behind the crab-ships, firing their main guns at the moment they were right behind them. The result was that one of the ships, the one that had been left unshielded by concentrated fire, saw its carapace-like armor buckle outwards in an explosion of white and red fire before the entire insectoid ship seemed to simply drift apart with electrical fires trailing behind them.
The other destroyer seemed to be more annoyed than harmed by this, and turned around to face the frigates as they escaped again.
A common rule of naval combat, was never to be in front of the enemy's main guns. An even more important rule, was never to be in front of an enemy's main gun with your backside or underside exposed.
As the SSV Caucasus came back online, Petrovsky found his enemy to have done exactly that.
"Charge the main gun and fire when ready! Fire everything right into its belly!" He bellowed, pointing as hard as he could at the remaining ship. It was a foolish gesture, he knew it well, but all the same, it gave him a sense of having more of an impact than simply yelling orders. He felt it almost as if he could bring a spear through the ship's body, spearing and killing it with his bare hands.
"I should spend less time with Fisher..." He muttered to himself, then watched as all the restored weapons charged and fired away. The destroyer was caught in the rear, hammered with sufficient force to leave the continent of Asia barren.
At first, it seemed it could actually take it.
Then, a small crack appeared in the dark armor. Again, it looked insignificant at first, but the white light streaming from its insides showed the scale of it, and as the shells continued hammering it, the cracks grew. Even as it started turning to face the Caucasus, it was inevitably too late. The carapace cracked open completely, revealing spheres of energy raging amongst machinery, but no crew or life forms to be seen on the scanners.
It finally exploded, turning its core into a small star in the moment it lasted, before becoming yet another wreck floating in space. Petrovsky pressed his communicator again;
"Status?"
"Wolf-packs here. Most enemies eliminated. We are drawing them after one ship while the rest of the group fire away. Casualties are 1st, 2th and 5th pack. 3rd sustained damage but we blew the thing off before it could carve up the Verdun."
"Red October here. All enemy ships eliminated. Lost ships Stalingrad, Skt. Petersburg, Dresden and Saint Louis. Moving to assist Wolf-packs." Oleg was unsure whether to smile or curse.
They had survived the battle, but had lost thousands of men.
Damn that Saren, and whatever kind of ships he was throwing at them.
"Good work men. Have our damaged ships fly to closest friendly station for repairs. Someone radio the Normandy and tell them we're done cleaning up Saren's guard dogs." He ordered, sinking back in his chair.
It was going to be a long day.
Codex Entry: Dragunov Mk 9
Following the long line of effective sharpshooters produced and trained with anti-material rifles, the Alliance set about to produce a version of the Widow that would not break or injure a human's arm when fired.
The Dragunov Mark 9 was the result of that research.
Composed of lighter alloys of metal, graphene, plastic and titanium, the next-gen Dragunov is a lighter version of the Widow Anti-Material sniper rifle, though none the less lethal. A system of bolts, servomotors and an enhanced Eezo-core, makes it possible for the standard marine to fire this rifle witout the need for extensive shoulder- and arm paddings its predecessor requirred.
A new weapon to the field, there are less than a thousand Dragunov 9 rifles in service at the moment, though it is speculated the Black Market might have been introduced to this new weapon as well.
Codex Entry: Avatar, the Legend of Weyrloc Doorn
Initially an off-shot of the once-popular human show 'Avatar', the new movies 'the legend of Weyrloc Doorn', 'the legend of Matriarch Benali', 'the legend of John Sovie' and 'the legend of Primarch Tullius', quickly gained an impressive galactic audience for its new-thinking way of pondering the mysteries of the cosmos.
The first movie, 'the legend of Weyrloc Doorn', was the start-shot to the franchise, and by far the most popular movie since 'Return of the Primarch' and 'The Lord of the Relay' came out in 2111. Humans came up with the idea after having observed the Krogan people being able to lift and throw small rocks without the use of biotics or muscle. Attempted examinations of live Krogans were out of the question, and the ability was not able to be viewed in a dead body. Nevertheless, the interrest was sparked by this phenomenon, and old human fiction was rediscovered.
Though not officially, most would call what the Krogan did 'Earthbending' after the ability coming from the before-mentioned human show. It has not been possible to get solid facts from the Krogan themselves regarding this ability, and when approached, the Salarian Union who would be the second-most knowing race concerning the Krogans, reported that they knew nothing of this 'fictional' ability.
Despite lack of proper knowledge, the first movie gained a surprisingly big audience from Krogans, while the Salarian union, as well as a large number of Turian officials and military personnel, pressed the Council for cancelling the film. Sufficient support for this claim was not found, and the movie was soon followed by its three siblings.
In the film ' The legend of Weyloc Doorn', a young Krogan is found to possess not only the ability to throw around rocks without the use of biotics, but also a penchant for breathing fire, controlling fluid water and the violent storms of the planet. The audience follows his journey as he travels a Tuchanka not yet ruined by nuclear warfare, to learn the secrets of the four elements. He gains a loyal Krant of followers and sets out to defeat the opposing clanleaders, hence making his own clan large enough to maintain order in a time of pre-atomic civil war.
Codex Entry: Anti-Reaper naval warfare.
"Reapers... a strange term. A harvester of life as we know it. These machines are not ships, but mechanical gods. However, even gods can bleed." - Anna Fisher, Systems Alliance Admiral.
Entries made by Admiral Anna Fisher and Admiral Oleg Petrovsky
Not much is known about the Reapers, or if they are even the enigmatic hostiles guilty of killing thousands upon thousands of Alliance personnel in naval battles. The ships engaged and believed to be Reapers, posses shields unmatched by any known technology in the galaxy, maybe except for the illusive Geth. They often have the shape of organic animals, such as squids or crabfish. Current known classes are:
Destroyers - this class range from 100m across to 200m across from top to bottom. Each possess a single ocular weapon in the center of the ship. While first assumed to be a laser-weapon, or a pure energy-weapon, it was found out from studying damage to surviving ships as well as the fragments left in the wake of the battle above Valhalla, that these weapons are in reality some sort of mass accelerators firing an unknown composite of metals at high speeds. These ships have shields with the same strength as a regular Alliance Dreadnought before the introduction of Mithrill-shielding.
Valhalla-class Dreadnought - Currently the largest ships ever seen by mankind, the class of ships named for the planet where they were first fought, run the length of four kilometers, and posses armor and shielding strong enough to take on an entire fleet of Alliance Warships. This type of dreadnought bears a strange resemblance to Earth's squids, and have smaller versions of laser-weapons at the tip of each tentacle. Each laser has proven to be enough to carve through the shields and hull of an Alliance Cruiser in a single shot, while needing two shots to down a dreadnought. It also possess a main weapon of unheard of power. Where the lasers on a tentacle would carve a hole in a cruiser, the main weapon would simply evaporate the area of the ship where it hit, leading to instant wreckage of said ship. It is highly likely that it would be able to carve up even the Destiny Ascension with one well-placed beam of metals.
Strategy for encounter:
So far, encounters have shown the Alliance to have the greater range in weapons, meaning the most prudent strategy is simply to outmanouvre and out-gun the enemy. While the shields are powerful enough to withstand barrages of fire from the main guns of dreadnoughts, slower-than-sound weapons are capable of penetrating the shielding. The carapace-like armor covering the ships are harder than any metals previously discovered, and some scientists believe they may be made from the same materials as the Protheans's Mass Effect Relays.
The carapace only covers the front though, leaving the underside of the ships relatively unprotected to projectiles. A method of bringing down even the capital-ships in the Valhalla-class category is to get beneath it and pound it with all the firepower available to the commanding officer of the ship.
ARTICLE STILL BEING UPDATED - PLEASE HOLD - FURTHER DATA STILL REQUIRED TO FINISH REPORT
leave a review, we're about to begin on Virmire, although it will be different, as you have already guessed, I'm sure.
see ya :)
I am adding some extra codex in a few hours, so check up on this chapter again.