Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System
SSV-SR2 Normandy
Joker didn't like the bandit he was hunting one bit. He couldn't eyeball it himself through the cockpit windows. On the tracking display before him, it was a silhouette. A slippery silhouette he knew too well. It brought back memories, made old wounds ache in his very core. It made him want to fly to the galactic core and flush the remnants of a sorry group of roaches down the crapper but not before he made them feel sorry for themselves. How dare they pinched a ship that rightly belonged with the dead. How dare they removed the monument of his shipmates' sacrifice? How dare they defiled the ship and all that it represented? Now it would have to be destroyed utterly.
Damn you, damn you.
"Are you all right?" EDI asked with some concern, noting the tension in his stiff frame.
"Ask me later," he muttered, swallowing an expletive when the rogue frigate rolled away from a shot the Ain Jalut threw out.
He snarled inwardly when it flipped away at a tight turn to escape a shot from the Normandy. Twenty minutes and still no success in painting the hull. Whoever was piloting the Blackguard had to have taken several hard lessons in bat-turns, denying its pursuers any chance of a clear shot. Inhuman. That was what it was. The turns and maneuvers it carried out would have flipped the drive core systems inside out. Hell, didn't the pilot care? Unless they had some sort of advance gravitic upgrades or glued themselves to their seats and workstations, no way the crew within wasn't turned into dough. His crewmates and the captain, while appreciative of his piloting skills, were already antsy captive passengers of a wild ride. Shake them up too much and there would be hell to pay.
"Are you reading any life signs in that bucket?" He banked the frigate, again, to follow as his quarry cockscrew into a different vector.
"Like I said Jeff," EDI said patiently with a slight hint of pique for that was the ninth time he threw her the question. "It is using an unusual cyclonic barrier. It is throwing up a continuous line of firewalls. The onboard systems are pushed into the extreme, there is too much heat propagation for me to get a clear reading."
"Damn it, haven't you hacked into the thing yet?"
"I am working on it."
His jaw tightened as he refrained from saying something he would regret. She was trying her best, it wasn't fair to flail at her. Dancing his fingers over the controls, he slewed the Normandy into a port turn in anticipation of the bandit's intended course. The gunnery crew fired a shot. His frustration went up another notch when it missed the bow of the Blackguard by mere metres. Damn it, what would it take to nail it down? One fact he did know was that it wasn't going to leave. It could have easily made it to the heliopause of the system and go FTL but it didn't. It would not, not with its pal still in the system. Sooner or later, it would have to backtrack. His eyes flicked to the flowing data on a side display. The turian dreadnought was taking a pounding and so were the allied fighters.
There was no way the Normandy or the Ain Jalut would be able to nail the Blackguard at this rate. They were trying for half an hour chasing the ferret when they should be protecting the geth dreadnought and the flanks of the cruiser. It was time to change the scenario. Biting his lip, he hit the comm to CIC as he made another course change to keep the bandit in sight.
"Sir, permission to volte-face?"
A few seconds went by. He could picture the frown on Captain Votik's swarthy face as he absorbed that request. A mild query returned. "Bandit too slick?"
"The way I see it, sir, this gopher won't come to heel till we lay out some greens."
"Go ahead, lieutenant." A ship wide announcement from the captain came on immediately. "All decks, bag in, no tour available till the gophers are gone."
That made him grin. The skipper's got that right. Muttering under his breath, Joker sent a signal to the Ain Jalut and laid in another course. The Normandy peeled away, heading towards the battling dreadnoughts in the distance. Behind it, the Ain Jalut continued the chase. The Blackguard dodged another shot by its former sister ship and veered off on a tangent when it suddenly did a tight roll that brought it right behind the Normandy. Unable to duplicate the turn, the Ain Jalut did a high yo-yo and the space between them widened.
"He's on your six, Joker," Rambler, the pilot of the Ain Jalut, rasped. "Looks like he's going full burn."
"Got it."
So the rogue think it could swat the Normandy? Not a chance. If the rogue thought it was good, it was going to find out it was mistaken 'cause he could play the game better. Joker watched the span between the rogue and the Normandy narrowed slightly. Just enough to put his ship in the firing range of the rogue. His console flashed in warning but he was already breaking the Normandy's vector to dip away from the Blackguard's flight path, dodging the shots that were fired. He pulled back across, trying not to skew too far out. That would defeat the purpose of his abandoning his role as pursuer. He wanted the rogue to think it could gobble up the Normandy and forget about everything else.
Behind them, the Ain Jalut deliberately dumped some speed but kept the rogue in sight as they rapidly approached the hot zone. Joker could see the Glasgow coming up on his tracking plot. He hoped they were ready and fast. If they got it right, they would bag this bandit in one fell swoop. There were flashes of fire all around the cruiser as occulus and alliance fighters dueled furiously.
"Their firewalls are partially down," EDI announced. "They have an A.I. running defense."
No surprise there. "That's cutting it close. Give it a kick some when, babe." He opened up the comm to CIC. "Box Fox in five minutes, sir."
"Comm to Hawk is open, call it," Votik said.
Eyeing the chronometer and the tactical plot, Joker hit the comm link to Hawk on the mark, chanting, "Box Fox. Box Fox," as the Normandy crossed a few thousand meters at a high vector from the Glasgow. Three interceptors burst into view from where they were hiding, close to the hull of the cruiser. Like hounds on the track of prey, they latched onto the tail of the Blackguard as it flew past. The rogue went into a tight turn. Its engines flared, clearly intending to pull away quickly. The interceptor pilots however had acquired a lock and fired their disruptor torpedoes. EDI chose to strike at that moment, breaking through the final firewall barrier to send through an overwhelming stream of data that clogged the defense system.
The torpedoes struck the rogue's cyclonic barrier at close range, damaging high-frequency sensors and emitters and left scorched marks on the hull. In response, the barrier reverted back to the shield array. Instead of swinging away to get out of firing range, the rogue frigate seemed paralyzed, continuing on its course. The pilots fired off another spread of torpedoes as the Normandy barreled in, Thanix cannon active and slicing. The torpedoes punched through the kinetic shields. The rogue frigate staggered and broke into half, venting atmosphere and debris when the beam from the cannon cut through its hull.
Joker didn't cheer. Neither did the crew in CIC when he announced the Blackguard was down. He turned his attention to the hot zone as the gardian turrets on the Glasgow nailed the last occuili that was harassing it. There were still several dozens slashing away at the geth dreadnought. Evidently the enemy identified it as more threatening than the cruiser. The Glasgow could carry no more than 15 interceptors and fighters. An Alliance carrier could carry eight times that number, the geth dreadnought twelve times that but then, they were not organic and could squeeze in as many as they liked.
Two hundred and eighty-five mosquitoes had buzzed around the turian dreadnought in the opening attack. There were fewer now. Despite its size, it was dwarfed by its geth counterpart. Perhaps it was an overkill to throw that many fighters at it. To Joker, when it came to Cerberus, the more the better. There were 60 occulus, well fewer now, attempting to mimic their geth counterparts. There were surprisingly few enemy interceptors and fighters. Why there were so few was puzzling but the occulus more than made up for the missing numbers.
Joker wished the geth had managed a crippling shot when they came up behind the turian dreadnought. Although it was not the optimum broadside presentation, they were at a diagonal vector with a distance slightly less than ten thousand kilometers. With the enemy caught with its pants down, they fired their main gun, sending a volley that impacted above the stern of the dreadnought as it was turning to face the threat from behind. At that range, the kinetic barriers of the turian dreadnought absorbed less than a quarter of the force but did not receive any significant damage. If only the shot had inflicted greater damage, their own losses would have been greatly reduced.
If wishes could be horses, we'll be galloping off into the sunset now.
Joker shook himself mentally. Tango was showing signs of the onslaught from the fighters launched from Ranoch and the Glasgow. Half of its gardian turrets were out of action and their fighters were down to a quarter. The occulus were more stubborn and inflicted the most casualties among the pilots. Fortunately, none managed to slice through the hulls of either capital ship. Heavy defense turrets and the persistence of the pilots saw to that. The geth were doing well, preventing the swarm from overwhelming the Ranoch's defenses but they couldn't keep it up forever. With the Ain Jalut, he brought the Normandy into the fray. Time to finish off those pesky globes.
SSV Glasgow
The deck beneath Liara's feet seemed electrically charged. For a moment, she thought she could feel the force of the the mass accelerators onboard the cruiser at work as it fired on the enemy dreadnought. It was only the heightened tension of the moment, she knew. With everything happening all at once, her nerves were sharpened edges. So thick was the tense atmosphere that she fancied it could be cut with a knife.
"It is all right," she bent over her console to assure her bondmate, "according to Dorrin, the turian dreadnought cannot last much longer." She checked the readouts from the probes again. "The street is clear."
"Right." April kept all inflections of anxiety out of her voice. "Still no word on Aitser?"
"They moved from their last known position. It is a hotbed of shark feeding now," Liara said, watching the mass of mutants that had gathered to dine on the remains in the shops at the market sector. "Locating them will take a while longer."
"Let's hope they don't run into more problems." April's tone belied that notion though. "Sunstone out."
She scrutinised the empty street and waved to the squad to proceed. She ran an eye over the looming exterior of domiciles. In its heyday, they housed the workers that mined the eezo of the asteroid before they were taken over by a variety of denizens through the centuries. Now, they were a haven for lurking menaces. With most of the street lamps broken along this particular stretch, there was plenty of darkness to cloak the squad. Unfortunately, it also offered the same advantage to mutants who could hide themselves more easily than the humans. Especially husks that could climb and attach themselves anywhere. For this reason, April had the squad examined every inch of their surroundings before advancing every metre.
She examined the street lamp close to her. It was shot out. Deliberately? Collateral damage? The ubiquitous debris, hard materials and organic, offered not the slightest clue other than that the residents had fought. The same scenario would have played out all over the station. So far, there was no sign of adjutants. Aria said she destroyed the lab that produced them. That didn't mean she destroyed the data.
The Illusive Man could cook up another batch on Omega. The question was if he would risk it. The adjutants were a very contagious breed. One mistake and the whole station could be converted faster than it could be stopped. She suspect the adjutants were another one of his explorations into easy and fast production of expendable troops. If he thought it worthwhile, he would probably do it. If he was smart, he would have his researchers tone down the contagion factor.
A soft hiss from one of the scouts brought her to the alert as a warning flashed on her visor at the same time. The squad froze.
"Hostile, 15 metres, far window at 11," Hendrik, one of the lead scouts reported softly. "Husk perched on the wall." Glued to it was more like it as he stared at it, its eerie blue eyes gleaming in the dark. That was what had given it away.
"360, eye for chums," April said softly as she turned her head slowly, searching the opposite wall of the residential block before running her gaze along the street. Across from her, one of the marines did the same for her side.
"Sunstone 3, two holding at four," another marine reported.
"Sunstone 5, one at two, one at three. They are moving about, seems to be eye-balling us."
Five husks. The map on her visor now displayed their locations. Advance sniffers for a group? Or were they rovers? Had they spotted the squad? Were they maneuvering to attack?
"Stay frosty," she said softly. "Sunstone 3, 5, 6, bead on sighted targets. Fire at will if they advance and fall back to first position."
Silence fell. The marines lined up their weapons on their targets. Minutes ticked by as they crouched there. Muscles began to stiffen but they moved not an inch, nor did they take their eyes off the husks that remained as still as they. What were they waiting for? Hendriks stared until his eyes began to hurt but still, he kept them pinned on the husk above him. When it finally did move, he nearly sagged with relief.
It turned its head, looking down the street. A low guttural snarl was uttered and answered by the other three. With great dexterity, all four began to clamber across the facade of the buildings. The husk Hendriks was eyeing made a long leap across the street to join its companions, barely making it to the other opposite wall. Scrabbling furiously, it managed to grapple on firmly before it slide off. All five disappeared round the corner. April didn't release their stance until Liara flashed an all clear. Heartfelt unvoiced relief passed through the group though they didn't let down their guard. Were there only five?
As if reading her thoughts, Liara said over the comm, "There are insufficient probes to cover the entire block but the buildings in your vicinity is empty for now. Street is clear for a hundred meters."
"All right, move out." April waved to the squad.
The marines stood up slowly, shaking their legs to loosen stiff muscles before resuming their advance. Looking at the chrono display on her visor, she realised only thirty minutes had gone by. Only thirty? It had felt like hours, nerves stretched thin at the wait to see if a horde of husks would descend on them. Since there were only five, they could be scouts for a larger pack or surviving remnants from another group. Either way, they would have to avoid a get-together. The odds might not be in their favour.
Too grim, girl. If every corner you turn is that dark, you're never getting out.
April gave herself a little shake. Checking their progress on the map, she grimaced. There were three-quarters of the route to cover and no way of speeding it up. She hoped the dogs would stay quiet for a time and let them finished their jobs before trying to send more ships to acquire Omega. Surely they would think twice now that their 'rescue' ships were taken down by the Alliance. Such a premise was not reliable however. If they were successful, Cerberus might have second thoughts and write off Omega once they knew the station had been reclaimed.
Liara had said nothing of the mercenaries, presumably she was still searching. She wondered how Aria was doing.
Omega
Doru District, Omega Market Plaza
Was this the outskirts of the market or the plaza? Frowning, Aria scrutinised the area through the scope of her Raptor as she crouched behind the highest pile of debris she could find in the street. The amount of junk piled around was so high she couldn't see the other side. That was not the worst of it. There were huge black gaps where the dim lights could not reach. No matter what visual enhancement she tried, she couldn't get a clear image. The best possible places to run into lurking trouble. She checked for any link to the probes. Still no signal. That didn't make sense, there should be some in this area. Did something destroyed them?
They made it through the first quarter of the market sector with ease largely due to the fact that nearby mutants were drawn away to the source of the incidental firefight. It would not be so easy for the rest of the route. Without those probes, they were blind, isolated and vulnerable. It also meant they would lag behind their schedule. If something happened and they reached their objective to find the fight was over, she would be pissed in missing tearing a strip off someone she was looking forward to meet.
She made another attempt to link to the probes. Where were they?! Something small ran over her feet. She looked down in time to spot the ample hindquarters of a rat disappearing into a burrow hidden in the shadows of the debris. Lips curling, she looked once more into her scope before dropping off her perch. They might or might not be at the edge of the plaza. The only way to find out was to get to the other side. With plenty of darkness in between, that rat was a warning of what could happen if there was something lurking around. Having something grabbed her from nowhere was not on her itinerary. Going through the mountain of junk that obstructed and covered such a wide area was not feasible.
They would have to find the perimeter and proceed slowly. The men could only nod when she lined out what they were going to do. What else could they do otherwise? They followed cautiously as she skirted the piles of debris, looking in every corner and shadow. With one third of their number gone through the folly of Rufio, they had to make sure they didn't add more to it. Making it to the end was their ultimate goal. As they moved deeper among the junk, Aria knew she was right when she caught a glimpse of familiar pillars through the gaps among the junk.
The plaza was reminiscent of those found on Thessia; contouring designs cut into the flooring and pillars. Not unusual considering it was an asari mining station built to accommodate asari personnel. Since then, it was turned into a bazaar for the smarter set of retailers who dealt exclusive and special goods. The place to go to if one had the right sponsors, credits and negotiate with relative safety under the umbrella of merchantry creed that none would leave empty-handed from the tables. Other than that, it was like any other market in the other districts.
Testing her footing, making use of every cover she could find, she headed towards what should be the perimeter. From there, they would head for the entrances to the passages that connected with the main shafts of the original mines. To get into one of the main corridors leading to Omega Control, she had to get into one of those passages. Hopefully, there would be probes once they reached those corridors. The faster they linked up with Shepard, the better. A muttered expletive brought her head around to see one of her mercenaries, Aziz, shaking a foot in disgust. The bottom of his boot dripped with a semi-gluey substance he had stepped on. With a growl of disgust, he rubbed the dirtied sole against a broken crate to scrap it off.
At times like this, she wished her old guard had survived but most of them perished in the attempt to throw off Cerberus years ago. The remainder were lost when she was forced to leave. This sorry lot with her were of the lowest calibre with little to stamp their name on. The sort one threw away to take the brunt of an oncoming wave. Not something she cared to talk about with Shepard when they discussed the compositions of their groups for the operation. The human wouldn't have let her on the station if she knew. Worst, if she had known, Shepard would probably insist on making her part of a little Alliance clique. Aria could take care of herself, thank you.
Turning her attention back to her intended route, she picked her way over a mound of bones, noting in passing, the tiny gleams reflecting off what looked like cartilage on a few greasy bones. It took several seconds before it registered. Cartilage. Shiny cartilage? Greasy bones? Her eyes darted all around. Mound of oily bones with shiny cartilage next to a junk pile. Puddles of muck that looked fresh, next to another junk pile. It was adding up to something she didn't like. The hills of junk served an ominous purpose, she was certain. The sooner they get themselves out, the better. She stepped up her pace, foregoing any likely places that offered cover.
"We're behind schedule so pack it up," she injected icy annoyance over the comm, "the next person to fuss over his boots gets the clean up job."
There was no answer of course but she expected them to respond suitably. The scuff of boots over her helmet pickups was both gratifying and annoying. If they were commandos, she wouldn't have heard anything. This lot was getting more slipshod and noisy by the minute. She would have to try to find better replacements after this trip. Leaping lightly up a slight incline of debris, she spotted the interior wall of the space station. Finally, the perimeter. From here, it would be an easy march to the nearest lower passage entrance.
As she was about to step off, a loud clatter resounded behind her. On looking back, she saw one of the mercenaries, a batarian, picking up his rifle. The sight riled her. How clumsy could they possibly be? On any other day, he would be chewed out mercilessly, incompetence was intolerable. His luck that they were in a hazardous territory with no time for her to tear a strip off him. That thought fled within seconds when the human mercenary next to the batarian screamed when something snaked out of the shadows like a whiplash to latch on to his lower calf. By the time any of them could react, he had vanished noisily into the the shadows.
The terrified screams and tearing sounds galvanised the rest to snap out of their shock to start running. By then, she had leaped over the debris and heading towards the perimeter. It offered the only guide to the safer, she hoped, lower passages. No way was she going to stay around those piles of junk that spouted the mysterious creature that ate the mercenary. The rest could either keep up or die, there was hardly time to tell them what to do. Chills crept up her spine at the low growls filtering in through her helmet pickups. They sounded like the rolling gnarls of varren. Did Cerberus experiment on animals too?
She didn't see it coming but her internal sensors screamed a warning. She rolled, avoiding a leaping body that sprang through the space where she had been. She did not stop to look at what it was, she bounced to her feet and continued her run, using biotic leaps to jump over obstacles. The remaining mercenaries shouted to one another and began to shoot. Gunfire erupted behind her. Yowls and angry snarls rang out when the shots impacted. Sound of falling debris as the mercenaries stormed their way over the junk, not caring about stealth anymore. Several metres from the perimeter, she changed her direction towards a shadow that looked like an entrance. If it was, where would it lead? Was it locked or open?
To her immense relief, it was an entrance and it was open. Beyond was another dimly lit debris strewn corridor. Was it better to go in or stay out?
"In here!" she turned to shout before dashing in, pulling out her pistol. Halting several metres inside, she turned and crouched, aiming at the doors. One of the mercenaries ran in, then another, panting heavily when they reached her and turned to aim their rifles at the entrance. Another three ran in. The fourth screamed when he was overwhelmed at the doors. She threw a singularity that caught both victim and attackers, swirling them in the air, twisting that they formed a confusing jumble of bodies and limbs.
Four legged? Animals? Varren? All she could register of the attacker was splayed out limbs, snout and teeth that were latched to their victim who was screaming as those teeth chewed at him. To her horror and incredulity, more streamed in past the singularity. That's impossible!
"Fall back!" she ordered, rising to her feet. Needing no further encouragement, her men followed her down the corridor.
Grabbing a grenade from one of her munition pouches, she twisted her upper body and tossed it over the heads of the men. It exploded, inflicting injuries on several of the pursuers. The level of yowls and snarls went up another notch, fevered with rage. Another grenade exploded in their midst. Then another. Still, they came on. She risked a peek behind and regretted it. Was there no end to them? How many were there? Had she made an error in judgment in trying to escape through this passage?
The corridor curved. She took note of the signs on the walls. They were in one of the old hallways to the ancient mines. There used to be security check points and decontamination chambers. Beyond that were lifts going to the mining shafts. That was then. The security check points no longer existed but the entries were still there. The decontamination chambers were converted into a holding cum temporary warehouse for goods. What had they become now? If there were no obstructions, they might be able to make their getaway in one of the lifts.
Another explosion went off behind. One of the mercenaries had thrown a grenade. The volume of the howling mass behind them filled the entire passage. It infused her entire being with fear. Her men could not keep running indefinitely and neither could she. If their escape route was blocked, they would be done for. She held little illusions her biotics would be an advantage. The sight of those animals bypassing the singularity with ease meant Cerberus were tinkering with them. In a way, they were reminiscent of the predators on Thessia, especially the horka that could repel biotics. Horkas were solitary hunters, they did not band in packs. These animals did both and she was one lone asari.
A curse escaped her when the old security entries came into sight. No doors. Nothing but a long dark grey patch. A Goddess-forsaken wall of rubble! Angrily, she turned around, her body glowing as she gathered her biotics. She did not cast. Instead, she waited. Labouring for breath, the mercenaries turned and lifted trembling arms. Lobbing grenades and firing off their rockets, they poured everything they had into the charging mass. Bodies shattered, blood and pieces of flesh flew. The passage became a slaughter house. The floor turned marshy but still they kept coming, packed wall to wall.
One of the men shouted as somehow, two came through the barrage to leap on him, teeth flashing for his head and throat. She cast a throw to keep them off but it did not seem to affect them. Incredibly, his helmet cracked. Twisting, he fell with his finger still on the trigger of his rifle. The stream of slugs killed one of the mercenaries. Engrossed with the bombardment, the rest did not realise what had happened. Using her pull, she dragged the dead mercenary's rifle to her and shot the two animals ravaging the body. Only to find that it took several salvos to kill one. She knew then why there was so little reduction to the numbers despite the hail of bullets poured on the horde. They were augmented, making them more resistant to bullets. Some form of biotics? Or armour?
There was no other option. She had to keep fighting till she couldn't. Gathering her biotics, she sent out a massive shockwave that staggered the horde. Several went down. Was that wavering? Concentrating, she sent out another. Several more dropped in the continuous hail of fire. How long could she keep it up? Grimly, she sent out a third, fourth, fifth and sixth wave. The remaining pack went into a frenzy. Panting, she retreated when they pressed forward. How many were there? How many? Gritting her teeth, she prepared to continue until she had no strength any more.
Sorry, Tevos.
Something flashed by. Then another. A black mass suddenly fell in front of her. Where did it come from? Shaking her swimming head, she looked again. Krogans? No, vorchas. The scene before her swam, a wild dance of so many movements she could hardly make out what was what. Blinking rapidly to clear the mists from her eyes, she finally saw the mass were a mix of humans, krogan and vorcha. Her blood seemed to freeze. Had they run into another group of freaks?
She revised that assumption when she realised there was no strange protuberances on them. Their shapes were normal. Whoever they were, they were displaying equal viciousness the horde had displayed. Stabbing and clubbing the animals with a speed she had never envisioned. Unnatural speed. Was that a glow about their eyes? Before she could follow that train of thought, a hard wrenched her around and she found herself down on the floor, staring up at a familiar face. An asari face. Her heart dropped when she saw the cold glowing blue eyes and the dark streaks reaching up past the asari's jaw along her neck. Another kind of freak had found them. All too familiar. Truly, her journey had come to a close.