Citadel
"Is this an exact duplicate?"
Liara looked over to where Shiala sat at a work console, eyes fixed on the schematic displayed on the screen. A design she was familiar with, having studied it numerous times during the last stages of her pregnancy. She understood why Shiala had doubts about them.
"No. There are some components that could not be manufactured to exact specifications. Some of the parts have to be approximated as the materials and application were rather unusual."
"Unusual?" Shiala looked away from the screen to stare at her in astonishment.
"The protheans were technologically more advanced. The components of the scrambler are nothing the salarians or anyone else has ever seen before. They surmised that it would take several decades before we could possibly reach the same level of development as the Protheans."
Privately, Liara thought it would take longer. "To get the duplicates to function on standard with the original device," she continued, "a list of materials was presented to the Ilos avatar and the best possible substitutes were picked for the prototype."
"Is that the reason the trials took so long?"
"Partly. There was concern the duplicates would not function the same way as the original. Attempts were also made to amend the directive of the device, for the TI to stay passive rather than to kill themselves, but they were not successful."
"The point of such an attempt?"
"The Council acknowledged that many hold to hope that the TI can be saved."
Shiala snorted derisively. "Such erroneous beliefs also fueled the inadequacy of Thessia's campaign."
"That is true," agreed Liara. "I was also one of those who held such hopes. I who have encountered the TI during the war, should have known better."
Shiala nodded in empathy and waved at the screen. "I presume the duplicates work or they would not have been implemented."
"According to my source, the salarians tried it on a small TI outpost on their homeworld and found all of them dead of self inflicted wounds or otherwise within two weeks."
"Otherwise?"
"The trial took place during winter. A number of the TI were found out in the open, frozen to death. It seems that their sense of self-preservation was affected."
"Two weeks." Shiala wondered if she dared to hope. Would they see some results on Thessia within two weeks? "Is that a confirmed duration of effect?"
"Not at all-," Liara shook her head, "it-," she paused when a beep from her omni-tool cut in. She tapped the answer key. "Yes?" she queried when Hilia appeared on the small screen.
"Admiral Hackett is on the line, my lady," said Hilia.
"Transfer his call through." Liara turned to her work console, shunting the forum pages she was reading to one side. She wondered why the admiral was calling her. It couldn't be about Shepard or he would have said something to Hilia.
"Admiral Hackett," she greeted when the screen lit up, gazing with a pang of worry at his tired face. There was more silver in his hair. He looked more careworn, seemingly to have aged decades since the last time she saw him.
"Dr T'Soni, I presume you are aware of the recent attack on Asteria?" he said.
"Yes. I understand there were loses in the Asteria fleet and the Cerberus forces were wiped out."
There was little else she could glean from her sources. Public reports was scanty. She could not find out if the Alliance fleet had suffered major losses. The clamp down on communications was so tight not even Aytheta was able to communicate with the asari fleet commander. If anything happened to Admiral Shepard, she was certain her bondmate would not have continued with the Omega mission. Surely the Alliance would not have kept it from her. Would they?
"The SSV Madrid was destroyed." He held up a hand as alarm leaped into her eyes, "Admiral Shepard escaped in a lifepod with most of the bridge crew. However, the pod suffered damage, causing some of the systems to short out. The crew sustained injuries, including Admiral Shepard. She is currently in a coma."
"Then-," Liara began anxiously as one thought came to mind; Shepard didn't know about this.
"Under normal circumstances, Admiral Shepard would be brought back to Earth but she is currently on the way to the Citadel onboard the frigate Arbela. Dr T'Soni," his tone changed slightly, "I'm aware that Shepard foiled a kidnap attempt on you on Thessia. We, I believe, her mother will be safer with you than a medical facility here."
She stared at him blankly for a moment before she realised what he was implying. "You mean-."
"Those who are closest to Shepard, her family especially, are under threat from a certain agency I will not discuss at this time. Until we have totally ensured that they are not present in our ranks, precautions must be taken."
A name leaped to Liara's mind at once. Chakwas. Whatever it was she had to discuss with Shepard, it had to be something whatever this agency Hackett wasn't naming was after. It had to be, but what was it? Did this agency also have connections to Cerberus? Terra Firma? Greenacres?
"Does Shepard know about this?" Liara asked, certain that Hackett had deliberately kept it from her bondmate.
"To avoid a conflict of interest, no, she was not informed."
He had taken it upon himself to decide for Shepard, Liara realised. While she believed and appreciated that he acted out of concern and in the best interest for Shepard, her bondmate might have a differing opinion.
"With Dr Chakwas's aid, I hope you would encourage a expeditious recovery," Hackett continued. "Her medical files have been transferred to Dr Chakwas. The Arbela will arrive at the Citadel in two hours."
"I understand Admiral. We will do our best and keep you appraise," she said and sat for a while in silence after he signed off, trying to calculate how long it would be before Shepard completed her current mission. If all went well, it would take at least a day or two for the task force to report and update their status.
"Should I be around when she gets the news?" Shiala asked half-jokingly.
Haven't forgotten momentarily that Shiala was there, Liara gave a start.
"Who..," she began before she realised Shiala was talking about Shepard. "With a double barrier, I may survive," she returned humourously before sobering. "We have to hope Hannah recover consciousness before she returns.
"That doesn't give you much time." Several days or more than a week, Shiala guessed, before Shepard returned.
"We will have to try."
Shutting down her work console, Liara began to plan, refusing to contemplate for one moment that Hannah Shepard's condition might preclude recovery. Until she knew for certain the seriousness of the injuries the human had sustained, she wasn't going to start thinking of the worst by guessing.
"Dad will have to be told and there are preparations to make. Will you continue to monitor Pubnews and the forums?"
Shiala nodded to the bobbing globe, hovering over another terminal next to her. "Glyph and I will maintain watch. I'll inform you the moment there're any new developments."
Avernus Station
Deck Six
Privately, Kirrahe thought it would be better if the boarding teams were geth. The search of the station would go much faster. No life would be risked, from a certain perspective. Such a viewpoint was however not unanimously upheld, not when the geth were displaying individuality. Even if it were, the wealth of information the station could offer was too attractive. Everyone wanted to get a piece of the rich pickings themselves. Not everyone trust that the geth would share openly. So he held his tongue. But would the pickings be rich? They would only find out after the mission.
Twelve hours had gone. By the luster of the egg, nothing had happened but he was getting bad vibes the moment he laid eyes on the deck six schematics. The layout of deck four was logical and familiar but deck six was anything but. The corridors were narrow, winding, cutting back and forth. Rooms were empty. Totally bare with not a single etching or rack or anything on the walls. It was as if they served no purpose other than to lead people astray or to entrap them. With no word from Shepard, he assumed the schematic for deck fourteen was different.
After the turn of the tenth corner, he called a halt. There were too many such turns in the last fifteen minutes for his liking. The corridors were distressingly narrow. So narrow that if three were to stand shoulder to shoulder, they would jam the corridor. His concern deepened when he saw on the developing map, how many more intersections and twists there were. The geth recon probes had not even covered a third of the fifth deck. He didn't like it. No, he didn't like it at all.
Toggling his comm, he tried to contact Shepard. A chill settled over him when his attempt failed. He tried again and checked his omni-tool. "Sit1 to Orb1," he tried to raise Orsinae.
Silence. He tried the other geth teams with no success. Scan showed nothing but he didn't doubt that comm was blocked. He had no idea if the geth specialists were cut off as well and wished there was one assigned to his team. He glanced up and down the corridor, then at the map.
"Comm is down. We'll try to link up with Orb at their last known position," he said to his team. "This way."
Deck Two
When the geth made another suggestion on avoiding yet another roomful of ramparts, Thax felt very hard done by. The first deck yielded only ships filled with dead bodies and nothing else. The second was a replica of the first; very much of nothing with many empty cubicles which could have been crew quarters on account of the small showers and kitchenettes.
They were here to finish off pesky Cerberus humans, not scratching claws across empty spaces. He wanted a good fight, spill blood and be given a hard run. The long period of indolence after the war was grating. Granted, he supported the grand plan of rebuilding Tuchanka. The resurgence required, no, demanded that they regained their lost glories. The endeavor encouraged many into turning their energies from fighting into restoring the infrastructure of Krogan society and revitalising Tuchanka. He himself returned home; his main concern to ensure he had the chance of passing on his blood now that the curse on his people was gone.
Perhaps he indulged more than he should for when his duty was done, he found that there were few roles suited for him. He was not interested in science, economics or government. He was more interested in maintaining and enhancing his mastery of battle and reputation. Every clan had thrown out their differences the moment the Reapers bit the dust and pitched in the rebuilding drive. There was little to no conflict he could participate in. So he had kicked his heels, doing grunt work for months on end and brunting his head in the annual champion competition instituted by the government to keep hot heads cool. It was not enough. Not for him.
Volunteering his services to the worlds still fighting off Reaper leftovers was an option but he knew such campaigns were more of waiting while those in charge sat on their tails, discussed and generally waste their time talking while everything fell down around them as they tried to make up their minds. The asari were one such example. The sands and winds were in their favor but they squandered it. Of all the major races, they accomplished the least in retaking their homeworld. How odd it was that their commandos and huntresses were considered the best warriors but then, they excel with small groups and individuals. Being small, accomplished little when it came to bigger prey. Harder to take down, harder to swallow. They should have followed the example of the humans. Now they were more of his ilk. In bulk, they were light as dust but they were quick, cunning fighters that merit their weight. They knew how to swarm.
When the military divisions were once more formally established, he joined hundreds of eager volunteers though much to his disgust, the visions of another campaign did not materialise. He spent most of his time kicking young recruits into shape. A somewhat enjoyable task. When he was chosen for the current mission, he was more than happy to take it. He didn't bother to ask why he was picked when there were other better qualified soldiers. The pile of black marks filed against him was too overwhelming not to warrant action. They likely hoped he would not return. If he did return, it would silence the critics.
He scowled once more at the geth, Vix was it called? It should have been called Vex with the way it was irritating him with its constant reminders. Maybe it thought he wasn't paying enough lip service to it like Shepard was so fond of doing. For a revered hero, he didn't see why she had to pay that much mind to the metal walkers.
"Ramparts, you say?" he growled, his patience at an end.
He knew the geth would not understand his tone but his squad did. They growled approvingly and hefted their weapons in a gesture of agreement. It pleased him that they were eager for action. All of them were picked for a reason.
"Let's make sure they are ramparts." He shoved past the geth, ignoring its protest.
Deck Fourteen, Ante-room to Central
When Shepard encountered the clone of herself on the Citadel during the last stages of the Reaper War, she and everyone else thought it was the only one. Inwardly though, she suspected there were more. Cerberus had total access to her tissue samples when they were working to bring her back, would they have settled for that one clone?
An angry displaced clone whose sole purpose was to provide spare parts. She would have remained dormant, discarded when Shepard was successfully reconstructed. Found and trained by the rogue Cerberus agent, Brooks, the clone declared herself superior to the original. Everything she said and did were diametrically opposite of Shepard; arrogant, malicious, bitter.
Now there were ten of them. Ten. Held frozen in cryo. During the debrief, Brooks said there was only the one clone. Was she lying? Shepard thought not. If she didn't know about these ten, then they were created much later. Who had done it? Lance? What was the purpose in creating them? As soldiers? Experimental material?
Revulsion and anger rose in her at the thought. They were not her but they were still part of her. Were they aware? Did they suffer? She forced herself to move closer to the cryo units. The clones were wearing skin suits. The one before her looked younger than she. In her twenties perhaps? She looked at the next one, also young but there was something odd about her. Shepard bent to take a closer look as Cy made a search for information on the work consoles.
"Shepard." Hiaras waved to her, standing at the console next to the cryo tank at the farthest end. "Subject F339," she pointed to the screen when Shepard reached her. "According to this file, she was under a extensive radiative regimen over a period of time."
Subject F339. No name. Conflicting feelings coursed through Shepard as she considered the implications. She was glad the clone was not created as an exact simulacrum of herself, brainwashed into thinking she was the real deal. But to be tagged as nothing more than a product, that was sickening. Shock held her for several seconds when she had a close view of F339. She was so thin. Her appearance was a startling contrast to the others for she looked older than sixty. Grey hair was sparse on the skull and there were mottled blotches on the skin.
"Is she sick? Her physical condition is terrible," said Shepard, drawing away but not before she noted that F339's countenance was blank. No sign of pain, distress.
Hiaras scrolled through the text, a chill running through her as she read. "It's not stated. I don't think it has anything to do with illness."
"Deliberate exposure?" Bile rose in Shepard at the thought. "Was..she aware? Did she know what was done to her?"
The Citadel clone's face flashed before Shepard. Despite the clone's actions and belligerence, she saw the desolation, the pain and despair in her eyes when they spoke at the edge of the landing ramp of the Normandy. In that moment, she felt kinship for what the clone felt was a mirror of her own darkness she looked into after Cerberus woke her up. She wanted the clone to live, to convince her there was a way, to give herself a chance. How she had hoped the clone would take the hand she offered but the clone chose to throw herself off. Though she did not say much to the others, she regretted the death. If these clones were as similarly conscious, would they accept a chance at life?
"This report only recorded the procedures, the number of exposures and the final determination. There is no notation as to whether they were awaken-," Hairas paused briefly before continuing. "Subject did not respond to prerequisite parameters. HebeF339 is a failure."
"HebeF339? What the heck is that? What the hell were they trying to do with her?" Shepard's eyes lifted to the rest of the cryo tanks. What else had been done to the other clones?
"Whatever it is, I don't think she'll survive if she's released from the tank," Hiaras said softly with a trace of grief and apology in her voice. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
Shepard watched the geth moved from one work console to another, syphoning data while Miona was going from one tank to another, peering with morbid curiosity at the contents. She wondered what the young asari was thinking.
"They had me at their mercy for two years. Why should they hold back?"
Hiaras lowered her voice. "If they particularly want military types, they have their own soldiers and likely, Alliance prisoners. Why you?"
Shepard shook her head, unwilling to give voice to her suspicions. It just wasn't the place or the time. "Just because we found these clones, it doesn't mean they didn't use other tissue samples. There has to be more."
"So why are there-," Hiaras's voice trailed away as realisation dawned on her.
"Only these ten cryo tanks containing my clones and no one else's?" Shepard finished the sentence for her. "This isn't exactly the right place to store them isn't it? If-," she turned to nod towards the other set of doors opposite the entrance, "that leads to the core of this station."
She could only hope it was the core. The engineering structures and devices that powered the station could be from deck seven up. That could explain why elevator access from the laboratory levels was sealed. If it was the control centre, the placements of the cryo tanks made no sense. Or did it? Lance knew what they would be looking for. It was the only logical tactical step any infiltrating group would take.
Hiaras regarded the tanks and work consoles as she considered everything they had seen on the station. "Where does he intend to lead you? If these are here, if there's another ante-room at Claw's side, what's over there?"
Shepard didn't answer. There were many explanations she could come up with but she'd far preferred to have Lance Greenacres provide them. He had not left with Terra Firma yet. They had unfinished business, he could not leave. Not yet. He could be waiting for them, a door away or he could be simply elsewhere, watching them. She could be wrong but she did not think she was. Miona stared into the last cryo tank when she reached them, face inscrutable. She did not look away when Cy stepped up beside her.
Mentally, Shepard tried to prepare herself. "What do you have, Cy?"
"The clones are listed under Project Hebe. As with the other projects, no specific objective is listed except for the type of procedures that were carried out. They have been exposed to a variety of combat hazards and virulent pathogens. The final analysis of project Hebe is marked a failure."
The flash of savage fury almost took Shepard. Her hands curled; she wanted to hammer something, someone, badly. With effort, she forced it down and took a deep breath. And another. She couldn't lose her head just yet. She needed to stay on the level to reach the end of this particular road. Popping off like a loose cannonball would only create more problems for everyone.
"There are interesting annotations to the word Hebe in the memory banks," Cy continued. "There're three classifications; plant, animal and mythology."
Shepard was certain the project name was related to the last. "What does the mythology say?"
"Hebe is the name of a Greek goddess, daughter of Zeus and Hera. She is said to have the power to bestow eternal youth."
"Eternal youth." Hiaras blinked and glanced at Shepard.
Was that what the project was about? Humans had a limited lifespan, far shorter than an asari though longer than a salarian. Was this research an attempt to find a way to prolong that lifespan? But how? Cerberus did the impossible with Shepard; bringing her back from death. Were they attempting to find a way to repeat the same thing? Bringing back the dead over and over again? If they succeeded, what kind of people would they be bringing back? Would the subjects be even the same after numerous cycles? She felt ill from the thought.
"Would any of them survive or could they possibly be revived at a later date?" Miona asked curiously, less interested in mythology or otherwise.
"If they deemed the project a failure, what do you think that means?" Hiaras said as she subtly 'tasted' Shepard's aura.
Ever since they left Thessia, there were upward spikes which she recognised as normal reactions to critical situations. However, there was a sharp flux just now, the strongest she felt from Shepard. It was equal to the simmering killing rage in Miona. It dropped back to a normal tinge. Most astonishing considering how fast the turmoil was brought under control. How much of it could she put it to Telienos's influence and how much to the human's?
Miona stared at Shepard as if she didn't hear Hiaras's reply, the glow of her eyes bright behind her helmet visor. "It cannot go unanswer."
"Whatever that answer is, it is mine to give," Shepard said tersely.
Miona's desire to be unleashed was a larger reflection of her own but she knew she could not indulge in it. Would not. She turned towards the other set of doors. It was time to find out what's behind them. She toggled comm. "Claw1, status?"
The burst of static was startling but not unexpected. No, not unexpected at all.
"We're...ante-room... several tanks with..."
"Claw1, you're breaking up. Be advised we're moving into the Red."
Shepard waited a beat but nothing further came over the comm. The few clear words sounded like Garrus came across another set of cryo tanks. With another set of her clones or some other people? Irregardless whether Garrus received her message, he would know what to do. They had after all, prepared for such a scenario.
"How's your line, Cy?" If the geth's tie to his counterpart was similarly blocked, the implications were extremely unpleasant.
The geth shook its head. "The line was severed five seconds ago. All teams are moving accordingly from the last update. Shall we proceed or fall back?"
The last question was deliberately misleading; they already knew they were on secondary fall back plans when comm was cut but if someone was listening and watching, they would not know that.
"We go on."
Shepard threw another glance at the cryo tanks. They were a problem that would be dealt with later, if they managed to secure the station. Until then, the dilemma of what to do with them could be put aside. She moved decisively to the inner doors. Time to find out what's behind them. The doors remained closed when she tapped the control panel. Stepping back, she nodded to Cy to carry out the hack as she readied her rifle, prepared to face whatever or whoever behind the door.
When the doors snapped open, she froze when she saw the floor. Instead of the dusty black mirror polish she saw on Cronos Station, hundreds of thousands of gleaming lines like electronic wires shone. They ran through a space big enough to park a freighter. Pillars were everywhere, unlike anything she had ever seen. They were like thick cords of tree branches, black and twisting with bright veins. In the middle of the room was a towering column. The ceiling was high, she estimated it stretched three storeys to the topmost deck. As she surveyed what she could see of the room, Miona eyed the floor suspiciously.
"What in the name of the goddess are these?" she muttered.
The geth crouched down, its hand reaching out to touch the lines. "They exude a form of energy akin to power lines."
"Do you see a power core in that column?" asked Shepard, her helmet visor scans were throwing up so much energy signatures she had to dampen the feed.
"I'll have to move closer." Cy looked at her, its query clear; were they going to move in?
Shepard looked askance at the floor, muttering inaudibly under her breath. C'mon girl, it's just a floor with funny lights. These are just some power transfers from and to the station. She took a step forward, half wondering if some kind of energy would jolt through the protective layers of her boot but nothing happened. She took another, then a few more steps.
"Fan out but don't drop out of sight."
Through visual inspection and running through every spectrum in her helmet visor, Shepard could not see any reaction to every step she took. The lines reminded her uncomfortably of veins. They seemed to pulsate to an unseen beat but remained firm and solid as any hard surface. Dismissing them temporarily, she looked at the nearest pillar. About three metres wide, more of the vines flowed along the cords. There was something odd on the black surface.
She peered closely and realised more of that strange script was on the cords. Tentatively, she reached out to touch the pillar, black as obsidian that she could see her reflection on it, and felt a faint thrum. A throbbing energy. Like there was a heart beating somewhere. It was unlike anything she had ever come across.
Keeping an eye out for any strange movements, she made her way to the tower, joining the geth which was already making its way there. It took her fifteen minutes to reach it, underlining the size of the room. The tower was astonishing. The girth was at least fifty metres. If it was the power core, it was unusually quiet. There was no heat signature. That was extremely unusual. Heat was always a by-product of any systems engineering but there was only that slight thrum when she placed her hand on it. Looking up, she saw several long spiky crystal-like formations hanging overhead.
"Anything, Cy?" She watched as the geth's head turned this way and that, its fingers tracing the lines and script on the surface.
"The readings I'm receiving are unusual, Shepard Captain. I can say with certainty that the composition, materials and potential of this power facility is unlike anything I have ever encountered."
"Unknown technology?"
She stared hard at the script, wondering if there was a record of it in the Cipher. Her vision swam; hands not her own, long and supple, outstretched to a golden pool that began to twist and solidify, turning into an odd shape. A voice whispered. I am the maker of my dreams. It vanished so quickly she wondered if she had truly seen it. Was the Cipher responding? She didn't know. She turned when Hiara walked past her.
"What about you, Hiaras?" she asked.
"Nothing I've seen before," said Hiaras. "We should have brought along a researcher," she added distractedly, her attention flitting restlessly all around her.
"What is it?" Shepard followed her gaze. What did she sense?
"A indistinct presence. I'm uncertain as to its location."
"I sense it too." Miona stared at the tower. "It might be within." She backed away a few steps and stared hard at every shadowy corner, sorely disappointed that yet again, there was nothing to fight.
"Could be a MME (mind-machine entity)," Shepard said. "If this power system is something they put together from an unknown source, we're in deep trouble. Do you see any control panel?"
"I've only seen this side."
Cy gestured that it would have to circle and began to move along the boundary of the tower, several paces behind the other two asari who began looking for any signs of an access point. Following behind, Shepard ran her hand along the surface. Unlike the black finish of the pillars, it was akin to granite grey with a shimmering lustre.
"Here." Miona waved to Cy. "These looked like keys?" She pointed to several indentations, like a keyboard, in the surface before her when it reached her.
"None of us know how to read the script," Hiaras said in warning when the young asari made as if to touch the keys.
"Think you can risk it?" Shepard looked at the geth, not willing to push if it wasn't certain.
"I will try."
Cy flexed its fingers as it poised them over the indentations. It fell silent, optics focused on the board before it. The familiar tiny flickering of energy sprang from its fingers as it initiated contact. The sudden bright explosive flash from the board threw everyone back. The geth stumbled back with an electronic squeal and fell flat to the floor while the other three staggered.
Shaking the black dots from her vision, Shepard went over to check the geth as it got to its feet. "You okay?"
"Shepard, duck!" Hiaras shouted when something flew past her, heading straight for Shepard.
Without thinking, Shepard grabbed Cy with her as she threw herself down. Something whizzed past. She rolled, rifle in hand, and fired without checking what it was. It shattered into pieces. Hiaras and Miona pulled the geth to its feet.
"There're more of them."
Miona fired shots at something in the air. Shepard saw them then, a swarm of globes hovering near the ceiling that looked like a smaller version of oculus. They reminded her of the Collector swarms except that they were bigger and each equipped with a red 'eye'.
"Where do they come from?" Shepard tried to estimate how many there were. At least a few hundred. None was advancing, they were spreading out.
"Does it matter?" asked Miona. She shot at the swarm but the mini oculus dodged so swiftly that the shots went wide. She threw a warp field in their direction but they simply retreated farther away. Angered, she held down the trigger of her rifle to shoot a continuous stream. A warning bleep. She ejected the thermal clip, shoved in another and continued to shoot.
Instead of stopping her, Shepard watched the reactions of the oculus and realised they would have to get some sort of heavy dispersal artillery or heavy armor troops to get rid of the swarm. The oculus were too quick. Even if they threw grenades, they wouldn't get many of them. There was too much space for the machines to move around in.
She grabbed Miona, "Don't waste your clips," she said when the asari resisted. "Fall back to the entrance. Now, Miona," she hissed when the young asari didn't move.
She wondered why the occulus didn't shoot. They couldn't or was it because they were too close to the tower? As if the oculus discerned their intentions when they began to move around the tower, a hail of fire rained down on them. Hiaras threw up a shield that reflected the shots. With Miona and Cy, Shepard fired back as she thought furiously. The oculus didn't want them to leave. Why?
"We'll have to use the pillars," she said, plucking a mine from her belt. She armed it and threw it at the occulus. When they dodged, she pulled at the asari. "Hiaras!"
Collapsing the shield, Hiaras ran with her to the nearest pillar.
"Shepard, there's another mass of them near the entrance," said Cy, having a clear line of sight of the doors from its position.
Shepard didn't doubt its statement. It had the better range of vision than any of them. She calculated the distance they had to cover before reaching the entrance. Samara had to maintain the shield bubble for long stretches and running battles for almost an hour on the Collector base, this should be easy for Hiaras.
"Hiaras, how long can you maintain a shield bubble?"
Hiaras knew what she was thinking of immediately. "Long enough." She clipped her rifle to her back.
"All right, this is what-," began Shepard when a deep voice suddenly rapped out something. Before the echoes of it died away, she grunted when a heart stopping force in the chest propelled her away from the cover of the pillar.
Stunned, Hiaras stared when Miona leaped after Shepard. The biotic blast came from her!
"Miona!" About to go after them, she found herself on the ground and realised Cy had knocked her flat. Not the geth too!
"No, we can't." Cy quickly pulled her to her feet gesturing to the swarm that surrounded them. Cutting them off from Miona and Shepard. "She's part of it."
"No, no." Desperately, Hiaras looked for a way out, to get to Shepard.
"Whatever comes next for Shepard, it is not ours." Cy held her arm. "We have to hold here until Shepard resolves the situation." It unclipped its rifle. "If all fails, you have to return. My targeting program can remove the swarm blocking the entrance."
Biting her lip, Hiaras looked in the direction where the other two had gone and could see no sign of them. Grimly, she readied her rifle. Despite what the geth said, she wasn't returning without Shepard.
Shepard hit the ground rolling and got to her feet, gasping at the pain in her chest. There was no time to stand around waiting for the pain to subside. She dodged the downward blow that would have struck her shoulder, grabbed Miona's outstretched arm before she could recover and flipped her over. The asari simply launched herself back up, feet first at Shepard. Having seen how fast the asari could move, especially this augmented asari, Shepard blocked the blow with her arms and staggered back from the impact. Dodging another strike, she ducked behind a pillar. Under no circumstances could she allow Miona to close in. She had seen how the asari killed with her bare hands on Omega.
I could try. She isn't trying to use her rifle or pistol, that could mean she's under command to herd.
On that thought, she dodged another strike and settled for blocking every one of the asari's attempts to knock her out. This way? She stepped to her right. Miona kicked out at her. No? This way then? Breathing hard, she steadily gave way, refusing to acknowledge the pain each time the asari's blows landed.
If there're more like her in future, we're going to need thicker and better buffered hardsuits.
Being on the receiving end was tiring, so much so she couldn't evade the foot to her middle and was kicked backwards. The deep voice spoke again as she landed on the floor. Panting, she watched Miona froze mid-step. Damn it. If the asari knew she's being used this way, she would go berserk. Shepard climbed painfully to her feet and rocked unsteadily, throwing a quick glance at her surroundings. Wherever she was, she was no longer at the central core. The room she was in reminded her of the Illusive Man's Inner Sanctum though there were no screens or control station. Instead there was only a figure in a skinsuit approaching her. He halted a feet from her. Her eyes narrowed when she saw who it was.
"You're not surprised," Lance observed.
"No, I'm not." Shepard punched him.