Chapter 19: Power and Despair

Tarrana raised an eyebrow in interest at the report she just heard. "Filon wants access to the arc cannon?"

The asari commando in front of her fidgeted nervously. "Actually, it was more of a demand, my lady."

"O-hoh…" Tarrana mused, lips curling into an amused grin. "That gutless worm finally grew a pair, did he? Who knew this day would actually come?" She turned on her heel to regard the battle outside. The main office of the shipyard was fairly reinforced, for protection against conventional industrial hazards and the occasional pirate raid, situated in a far corner of the yard away from most of the action. It was a dark room, save for the lights coming from the many holoscreens depicting the chaos outside. It provided relative safety, but that wasn't a sure thing if this situation wasn't contained soon enough.

Tarrana was silent for a while, but the asari commando, Melina, knew better than to urge her commander to speak. The Omega Eclipse lived and died at the lady's convenience, and Tarrana has given ample examples of the latter using those foolish enough to cross her. Some may call her methods extreme or even eccentrically cruel, but Tarrana Ionet has long since proven herself to be a capable commander and peerless scientist and engineer. Her past prior to joining the Eclipse was unclear, but Tarrana had always said she was a noble lady of house Ionet, one of the exalted families in Thessia. Whether this was true or not, the asari of the Eclipse gave her their unwavering loyalty. She snapped back to attention as Tarrana's melodious voice spoke again.

"Yes, give him access to it; I am curious to see where this newfound determination will lead him. Should he fail, kill him." She said the last part as though it were a mere footnote.

"I shall send word, my lady."

Tarrana smiled in approval, which quickly disappeared as her eyes fell to another monitor depicting the scrapping of her Ymirs by three people.

Three people.

She sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose as another Ymir was scrapped and weighed her options. What was she paying these idiots for, anyway? Once they get the Kodiak downed, she could just send in wave after wave of her men 'til they eventually tire out and die. An excellent idea, she began to think, but then she's already lost so much, and she did need enough men for a crew after all.

The choice was clear to her now; she needed to send in her elite. "Oh, and dear Melina, once Filon has taken care of that dreadful Kodiak, gather your sisters and deal with that for me, would you?" She said, pointing at the screen. "I want you to beat some humility into them and snap their necks."

"As you command, my lady. I will take my leave and gather the Luna." Melina said with a bow, before turning sharply and heading towards the door.

"Wonderful." Tarrana replied, eyes still glued to the chaos depicted on the monitors. The entire situation has turned out to be a disaster, but she's invested too much into this foray to back out now. If it took that worthless Filon using one of her experimental prototypes to get the job done, so be it. When the dust from this settles, she would happily let the patriarch and the Suns fight over total control of Omega. This ship was her only goal. The Normandy was a masterpiece among space-faring vessels, and she longed for it since she saw the specs from Cerberus. She had since decided that by hook or by crook, it would be hers, and woe befall any who stood in her way.

Filon fidgeted nervously behind cover as the Kodiak's cannons rained devastation in the hangar, a chill of dread going down his spine. The shipyard was a wide open space, large enough to accommodate frigates and heavy cruisers, leaving the small ship with enough room to maneuver past the rockets and fire from the Eclipse troopers. Bodies went flying as the Kodiak swooped from overhead. They had tried choking the Kodiak into a corner, but when they seemingly had it pinned, it would slither its way out somehow and return fire with deadly effect. The improbability of it all was starting to give him a headache.

"Damn it!" He yelled in frustration as he stood up and blasted his assault rifle at the retreating form of the small troop transport. "I need some heavies here!" he barked to the trooper next to him.

"Heavy squadrons 7 and 9 are regrouping, sir! No response from the rest!"

Filon grabbed the trooper by the collar of the armor. "What do you mean no response?"

"They're either pinned down or dead sir!"

"Damnit!" Filon growled as he shoved the trooper away. "Get on the comm and get me some damn heavies!"

"Uh, I think we're getting something better sir." The trooper replied, pointing at something.

"What?" Filon turned to where the trooper was pointing and saw a group of troopers hauling a large-sized reinforced container bearing the Eclipse logo between them, hastily making their way through the battlefield before the Kodiak could swoop back on them. The container was long and narrow, like a coffin, and Filon didn't need to read the hazard warnings etched on it to know what it was carrying. Truth be told, he didn't think Tarrana would have granted his request to use this weapon, but the woman did seem to truly want the Normandy for herself. He frantically waved the troopers to hurry. "Double time! Come on!"

The troopers slid into cover along with their cargo, setting the container down in front of Filon, panting and collapsing against the side of the cover. Without so much as an acknowledgement to the troopers who had risked their necks to deliver it to him, the salarian waved his omnitool on top of the container. There was the whirring of pistons and the hissing of depressurization as the lid shifted and split open, revealing the device that lay within. "Excellent…" Filon mused as he inspected the contents for a moment, before turning towards the exhausted troopers and barking at them. "This is no time to rest you fools; Suit me up! Quickly!"

The Arc Cannon did not so much look like a gun as it did a massive gauntlet, complete with a gigantic robotic hand, fingers and all, meant to be worn around the user's arm. The name itself was merely its prototype designation, more for what it could do than what it looked like. The troopers had a cruder yet oddly more appropriate term for the device among themselves: The Iron Fist. Of course, the sheer size and weight of the weapon would prove to be too unwieldy for anyone to use. It had to be worn in tandem with a special armor that served not only as protection for the user, but as both a harness and power source for the massive gauntlet.

The troopers worked swiftly and methodically as they latched the armor plates onto Filon's Eclipse armor, giving the salarian a bulkier profile and silhouette. Each piece snapped into place readily and locked securely with a satisfying pressurized hiss. The helmet was a transparent, dome shaped piece that fit securely around the wide, rounded collar of the armor, flickering with many HUD interfaces as the armor linked with Filon's omnitool. The heavy greaves were wrapped around his legs, and the metal boot pieces slipped underneath his feet, the pieces linking together and humming with power. Finally, the Iron Fist was fitted around his right arm, locking the device into place with the rest of the armor. With the armor fully assembled, bright yellow tech panels began projecting across its surface, adding another layer of protection for the suit.

The salarian inspected the weapon and flexed the huge fingers experimentally, finding it fluid and dexterous, much to his satisfaction. He looked around and saw the Kodiak in the distance, doing a wide turn as missiles and bullets streamed past it, seemingly missing by mere inches. "Stand back, men." He said as he powered up the suit and the air started to smell of burning ozone. "It's going to get hot around me."

He raised the fist in the air and small arcs of electricity and a reverberating hum started to emanate from the weapon as it charged up. The weapon was called the Arc Cannon for a very simple reason; it could polarize most subatomic particles into electricity and project this effect around a wide area. The mechanics behind it was a bit boggling, and Filon could barely wrap his head around the basic science of it all. Tarrana was a genius, pure and simple. A homicidally unstable genius, sure; but a genius nonetheless. Her designs bordered on the brink of magic and enchantment. It was also probably the main reason why Eclipse corporate HQ tended to overlook most of her eccentricities. It didn't matter right now, what mattered was that the Kodiak was coming around for another pass, and the device was now fully charged.

"Let's see what this thing can do!" Filon said as he pointed the fist in the general direction of the ship. There was a loud snap in the air as tendrils of lightning blasted from Filon's very hand, crackling with power as it rushed towards the Kodiak.

Joker yoked the controls and performed a tight turn as he brought the Kodiak along for another pass. He wasn't a stranger to the dangers of war, but something about fighting in such a small ship, experiencing every jolt of turbulence and blast of weapon's fire, made him feel all that more mortal. The excitement was new, but so was the pit of dread in his stomach with each near miss from enemy fire. He was so sure they would've been shot down the moment he flew out of the Normandy's shuttle bay, but for some strange and twisted reason, they were still airborne. Beside him, Garrus was doing his magic on the weapons console, reducing everything that entered his crosshairs into ash. Whatever the pilot couldn't dodge, the turian made sure that he wouldn't have to. All in all, Joker had to admit that things were turning out better than he expected. That was when he noticed the sudden spiking in the atmospheric read outs.

"Hmm… That's strange." Joker mused as he spared the interface a glance.

"What is?" Garrus asked, his finger squeezing the trigger every now and again.

"Barometer's going crazy, something must be something shaken up under the hood." He said, "According to this, there's a lightning storm in the vicinity?"

"Well if it isn't operation-critical, then we can tough it out." Garrus said dismissively. "Can you run a full systems scan on the fly? Just in case…" His eyes were busy scanning through the reticule of the cannons, searching for a target as they turned around for another pass. It was hard to miss the huge armored figure bristling with electricity that suddenly entered his field of vision. "What the-?" Before Garrus could even pull the trigger, an arc of lightning shot up from the figure towards them.

The first thing that happened was the sound of a million birds chirping filling the cabin as the Kodiak rocked with turbulence. Before Joker or Garrus could react, their consoles fizzled out and exploded in a shower of sparks and smoke. The cabin went dark as the Kodiak OS shutdown, the engines going silent. Inertia was carrying them for a while, but the growing pit in their stomachs grimly confirmed that gravity was taking over.

"SHIT! SHIT!" Joker swore as he shielded his face from the sparks. "WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?"

"Forget that!" Garrus snapped back as he tried to activate the holo interface on his side to no avail. "Can you get this thing started again?"

"Can I get this thing started again?" Joker repeated incredulously, gesturing at the shot up consoles and interface. "Are you seeing the same things I'm seeing?"

"Damn it!" Garrus growled. "Brace for impact!"

"Ah, hell…" Brace for impact. Joker hated those three words. It usually meant something in his body was about to imminently crumble like a week old cracker.

Meanwhile, not too long ago.

Grunt tasted his own blood as it flowed from the massive gash beneath his eye, the wound slowly healing as his regeneration strained to keep up with the multitude of injuries he kept receiving. The Ymir had caught him unwary in his flank and had backhanded him a good twenty feet away, breaking several bones from the hit and more upon landing. The feeling had yet to return to his fingers when he raised his shot gun at the advancing heavy mech, firing a defiant shot that did nothing against the Ymir's fully charged shields and heavy armor.

Before it could descend upon him however, Jack crashed into the Ymir with a biotic charge from it's left, knocking the heavy mech off of it's feet. As it struggled to get up, Samara followed this up with a devastating slam, shaking the Ymir to it's core. Both women stood side by side as they focused their biotics together and sent a devastating shockwave towards the heavy mech, sending it flying back. It crashed into the ground, breaking into pieces as it skidded to a halt. They both stared at the wreckage for a few moments, glowing arms still pointed towards it as it started to catch fire, before they allowed themselves to ease up and let out a sigh of relief.

It had been one hell of a fight, but finally, they had taken out the last Ymir. They both shared a glance at each other, panting heavily and soaked in sweat and their own blood.

Jack rested her hands on her knees as she stopped herself from collapsing out of exhaustion. "Not bad…" She started to say to Samara in between gasps for precious air. "For an… An old lady…You still got it…"

Samara, who had somehow managed to stand perfectly straight despite her heaving chest, gave Jack her usual impassive look. "And for one so… So young… I'm surprised that… That you managed…" The mask of impassiveness broke and Samara let herself fall down to one knee, exhausted. "Managed to keep up with me…"

Jack burst into laughter at the sight, falling flat on her back with a big smile on her face. "Oh god, I feel woozy… Don't make me laugh anymore, please…"

The two were interrupted by a feral roar as Grunt slowly got back up to his feet, standing in a pool of his own blood. "Ugh… Thought that thing knocked my jaw off…" he said groggily, rubbing his leathery face gingerly. "Did we get 'em?" he asked to nobody in particular.

"Just about..." Jack replied, stretching on the ground. "How's your ugly mug doing?"

"Shove it…" Grunt replied weakly, his wounds slowly closing.

"Keep…" Samara began with a wheeze, picking herself up again. "Keep your guard up, we're still in the thick of enemy territory."

"Eh, don't worry about it… Garrus has us covered." She said, propping herself up on her elbows to turn her head and look at the Kodiak zooming by overhead.

Grunt sniffed the air, growling under his breath. "Anybody else smell that?"

"What?" Jack inquired. "If it stinks that bad, it's probably your upper lip."

"Shove it, Jack." Grunt shot back as Jack feigned being intimidated. "I'm serious. It smells like… Burning."

It was at this point that the sound of blaring static filled the air as what could only be described as a bolt of lightning shot up from across the shipyard and splashed against the hull of the Kodiak, wreathing it in arcs of barely contained electricity as it blew off part of the back thrusters and set something on fire.

"SHIT!" Jack yelled, getting back up on her feet, eyes trained on the crashing Kodiak. "Shit! They're going down! What the fuck was that!"

"Your guess is as good as mine…" Samara replied, quickly opening her omnitool and trying to raise either Joker or Garrus, but to no avail. She looked up at the Kodiak, trailing smoke as it streaked and tumbled downwards. "By the goddess!"

It crashed on the other side of the shipyard, the sound of twisting metal filling the air, obscured from view by the massive cargo trailers and crates that littered the hangar.

Samara's comm beeped, bringing her back to her senses as she saw it was from Garrus and opened the frequency. "Garrus?"

Silence.

Samara furrowed her brow. "Garrus! Come in, Garrus! Are you-?"

"We're alive," A raspy voice replied over the comm, "But just barely. Fire didn't spread, at least" Garrus said, coughing. "Joker's out cold but he's breathing. I don't want to move him, could cause more harm."

"Thank the goddess…" Samara whispered. "What was that?"

"The blast was too big to be an Arc Projector..." He replied, "Judging by the fact that they haven't shot us again means it takes a while to recharge. Be careful, I doubt cover is going to do any good against whatever it- ugh…"

"How bad are your injuries?"

Garrus hissed in pain over the comm before replying. "Legs are pinned underneath the console. I can still feel them though; Still 50:50 on how I feel about that." He said, his voice just barely covering his quiet hisses of pain. "Stopped the bleeding with some medi-gel, but I doubt that's going to do any good when the Eclipse converge on us."

"Not if we get to the Eclipse first." Samara replied, going back to her cool and calm demeanor. "We'll get you two out of there."

"Heh, I've softened them up enough for you guys, I guess." Garrus said, chuckling a little. "But you did just take on a dozen Ymirs. We're not in any immediate danger; don't take unnecessary risks."

Jack popped up over Samara's shoulder, butting in on the conversation. "Fuck that. That was just a warm up, Vakarian. Just get your crippled ass comfy, we're coming for you."

"Pardon me if I find that less than comforting."

Grunt limped over towards where the two women were standing, snapping his shoulder joint back into place as he did so. "Let's get this done." He said simply, spine cracking as he stood up straight, pulling out his shotgun, only to toss it to the side as he found out it was broken. "Fantastic. Anybody else got any guns left?"

Samara shook her head while Jack gave a resounding. "Nope."

"Hrrm, guess we'll have to pick some up along the way…" Grunt mused. Just as he said that, a blast of biotic force caught him in the chest, flinging him backwards and sending him crashing back to the ground.

"Grunt!" Jack yelled in surprise. Just before she could run to his fallen form, Samara grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close. "Hey!"

Samara ignored Jack's protests and instinctively set up a barrier, protecting both her and Jack, as another biotic wave smashed against them. The force of the blast was great, but the barrier held.

Several yards away from them, seven Asari commandoes were slowly walking up to them, each holding batons crackling with electricity and wreathed in biotic energies. All wore helmets, ecept for the one in the middle, who held up a fist and the group stopped in unison. She took several more steps forward to stand in front of the others. "My name is Melina Asharad, and these are my sisters." she said, giving the Justicar a small bow. "We are the Luna Eclipse, lady Ionet's personal warmaidens." She announced, eye's locked with Samara's "You are known to us, Justicar Samara, so I offer you these terms: Surrender, and your deaths will be quick and painless. Resist, and you and your team will die slowly and painfully."

Jack scoffed at her words as she stepped away from Samara. "Stop being so fucking prim and proper." She said, her annoyance evident on her scowl. "You're nothing but a fucking thug, so stop pretending otherwise and act like it, bitch."

Melina raised an eyebrow at this. "I wasn't talking to you, human."

"Well fuck, you remind of Miranda before we made nice." Jack glowered, knuckles cracking. "I'm gonna enjoy unprettying that face of yours…"

"You are talking to me as if we were equals…" Melina retorted with amusement. "I do not know who this Miranda is, but I'm insulted by the comparison. I'll beat some humility into you, and make you lick my boots clean."

As this went on, Samara looked at all of this with impassiveness, before sparing a glance back towards Grunt's unmoving form, laid out on the ground. As a Justicar, she held no social bonds, no family, no friends. She was the code given form; a tool to exact it's teachings. She had tried to make herself detached from Shepard and the rest of his motley crew. To her, they were only soldiers she was made to fight beside. A tool had no need for such trivial things as comrades. So why does seeing this young krogan, bloodied and broken, make her fume so much? "Actually, Melina…" She said, turning to face the asari in question and garnering the attention of those around her. "These are my terms for you and your sisters. Go to hell." A violent glow suddenly engulfed her body as she dashed forwards, catching Melina unawares as her fist connected with the mercenary's face, sending her flying backwards. The other members of the Luna could only look on, frozen in awe at the eerily calm expression on Samara's face. " And die."

Just as the other asari were about to converge on her, batons ready, Jack jumped up from behind Samara. Her fist was glowing with energy and she landed in front of the Justicar, punching the ground as a nova blast knocked the Luna backwards. "I always knew you had a soft spot for us." She said to the Justicar as she got up. "You really like us, don't you?"

"I know not what you speak of."

"Can I call you grandma?" Jack teased. "I never had a grandma."

"Focus on the task at hand, Jack…"

"Sure thing, granny."

Samara just looked at her. Both of them were at their limit, unarmed and outnumbered, but they couldn''t give up now. Jack seemed to get this too, and the human woman gave her one of her cocksure grins. It was an unspoken pact between the two of them; they can't die now, not to this. They nodded to each other in acknowledgement, before Samara dashed to the left and took on 3 of the asari who were knocked in that direction, while jack turned to the right.

Jack grinned towards the other remaining 3 asari, who were already getting back up on their feet. "I swear to god I hope your big sister is still alive, girls." She began, cracking her knuckles as they ran up to her. "I really want to kill her myself."

As the ladies proceeded to do battle, Grunt flipped onto his belly and pushed himself up on his knees and elbows. "Frakking biotics… I should get me some of those…" He mumbled as his omnitool rang. "Would tear them apart if we were on a level playing field…" he continued as he fumbled to open his comm. "Ugh… Grunt here. Bit busy at the moment, over."

"Grunt? Mordin here, hacking in progress, what's all the commotion we've been hearing?"

Grunt sighed as the feeling returned to his legs. "Well, doc, if you must know…"

It was dark, Miranda thought to herself, and silent, too. She couldn't exactly remember what was going on or where she was, all she knew was that the silence was slowly being broken by dull throbbing noises that crept into her head. She could make out the snap of gunfire, and the murmured voices around her. It was hot, but she clearly felt the cold metal floor under her back, and the warmth of someone kneeling beside her. She felt pain resonating from her midsection and decided that was one sensation she could've done without. The darkness melted away and she slowly regained her vision, blurred at first, but steadily coming into focus. The first thing she saw was Jacob's face, looking down at her with worry. "What…?" she tried to say, but only managed to mumble out. She tried to get up, but he gently pinned her down.

"Easy…" he replied, trying to stop her from getting up. "It ain't bad, but let the medi-gel do it's thing first."

She tilted her head in confusion and looked down at her torso. There was a red patch on her side around the otherwise white uniform where a bullet had broken her shields and tore into her flesh.

"Just a flesh wound." He said reassuringly.

The pain started to fade away as the medi-gel patched her up. She remembered now. They were leaving the Lower Afterlife when an explosion tore through it, engulfing the club in flames and sending them flying. Sure enough, when she turned her head, she saw that the hall that normally led to the lower entrance was a twisted, burning wreckage. Something clicked in her head, and she suddenly snapped into attention and sat up. "The pirates…!"

"That blast was huge…" Jacob only looked towards the fire and shook his head.

Miranda was not one to be attached or emotional, but the news made her feel sick. She had promised those men and women that she would get them out of there alive. She had failed them. She knew now was not the time to dwell on such things, in the middle of hostile territory, cut off from the Normandy. But it still panged at the back of her mind. Her reverie was broken when Jacob stood up and offered her his hand.

"Come on, we got to keep moving."

"Thanks." Miranda took his hand and let herself be pulled back up to her feet, the medi-gel having nearly patched up her side. That was when she remembered something else: Shepard and the others. "Any word from the commander?" She asked, a bit ashamed she hadn't thought of them first.

"Not since before the blast, I can't reach his comms." Jacob replied, pulling out his shotgun. "But don't worry about him. I'm starting to believe nothing can kill that man."

"You forget how we first met him…" Miranda said as she took out her pistol, checking the specs and ammo. "And not that I care much, but where's Zaeed?"

Before Jacob could answer, his comm buzzed. "Speak of the devil." He said as he opened the channel.

The grizzled veteran's voice was hushed as he spoke through the commlink. "Zaeed here, areas clear up until the plaza; there's a whole gaggle of these bastards congregated there."

"Copy that, we can just slip past them and-"

Zaeed cut him off. "They have Shepard, Thane and an asari who I believe to be Aria T'loak herself at gun point." He said grimly.

Jacob cursed under his breath while Miranda opened her own frequency to Zaeed, her brow furrowing in concentration. What started out as a simple 'meeting' with Aria had degenerated into one disaster after another. If they weren't fighting for their lives against insurmountable odds, they were being flung about like ragdolls in an explosion. All within the same week of coming out of the Omega relay alive, he might add. All in all, they were long overdue for some vacation time when all was said and done.

Miranda however was back to her no-nonsense, professional attitude as she spoke to Zaeed. "We're heading out to your location." She began, already starting to walk off. "What are the odds against us?"

Jacob said nothing as he walked alongside her, keeping an eye out as they listened to Zaeed's report.

"I'm counting 30… No, 32 troopers. Three Legionnaires and a centurion among them. They're in a pretty open area with little cover, and they made the mistake of not surrounding Shepard and company. Bastards are just menacing them at gunpoint." Zaeed said in a hushed tone. "Don't have my sniper rifle on me and I'm down to the one grenade. Unless you have a grenade launcher on your person, Miss Lawson, we'll be hard pressed for crowd control."

"What's Shepard's status?"

"Unfortunately, we can't count on them for support right now." He continued. "He looks right banged up, and so is Aria. Thane seems to be the only one who can even raise a gun right now, but the other two will weigh him down. They're sitting ducks out there."

Jacob calibrated the settings on his shot gun and set it to Inferno rounds. "Zaeed, is there a way we can get close in without being seen?" He asked through the comm. "We just have to strike them hard and fast and make off with the commander and the others before they knew what hit 'em."

"I like your spunk, but no. They're right smack dab in the middle of the open." Zaeed replied with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. "Besides, against 32 men in the open? Those are slim chances, Taylor."

"And here I thought you had a death-wish, Zaeed."

"Heh, there's a difference between dying and losing on purpose."

Miranda just shook her head and tried to make some sense of into the situation. "If they're still alive, it means they want to take them alive." Miranda mused. "They must be waiting for transport. We're almost at your position, keep an eye on them."

"Hold on." Zaeed suddenly blurted.

"What is it?"

"Shepard's keeping the goons distracted… and Thane's reaching for something in his jacket." He clicked his tongue. "Best get here sooner than later, things might get messy."

"Copy that." Miranda said, picking up the pace with Jacob keeping up beside her.

Shepard tried not to let the pain show on his face as the blue armored batarian in front of him, a Centurion, stared him down. Going by the smug look on the batarian's face, he was mildly successful. They had literally just gone through a series of deadly events and now here they were, stuck helpless in front of a large group of Blue Suns mercs, injured, unarmed and out in the open.

The adrenaline had long since faded, and he began to feel the pain of a very long day finally stack up. His body ached, his limbs refused to move, his fingertips were numb, and the coppery, stale taste of sweat and blood was bitter on his tongue. His face was black and blue on one side where the Patriarch gave him the mother of all sucker-punches, and a split lip adorned his mouth. Shepard grit his teeth as other, newer pains started to arise from all over his body. Even his tech implants were having a hard time doing literal damage control. No matter how he looked at it, he probably wouldn't be able to shoot that smug look off of the centurion's face. He chanced a quick glance beside him, were Thane was kneeling, clutching an unconscious, half-alive Aria, protectively close to him.

The drell still had the stoic mask on his face, but Shepard saw the hint of panic in Thane's eyes that betrayed his tension. Even now, the master assassin was probably going through dozens of scenarios of how to get out of this alive, with each one ending in a frustrating failure. If anybody could get them out of this situation though, it was Thane. Shepard just needed to buy him some time.

The centurion kneeled down to face Shepard eye to eye. "Hell of a day for you, too, huh?" he said casually before laughing into the commander's face, prompting his underlings to start laughing with him. "My, my… I don't know how you did it but you just killed off damn nearly all my rivals on the food chain to command." He started, flashing rotten teeth in a crooked smile. "And wouldn't you know it, just when you're 'bout to run out of gas, you fall right into good old Ulklan's hands… The great Commander Shepard." He chuckled, full of himself. "After the number you did on the boss, he'll give me a pretty penny and a promotion if I turn you in alive so that he could deal with you himself." He reached behind him and pulled out a heavy pistol. "But if you ask me really nice like, I can kill all 3 of you right here, right now, and save you a world of pain." He shoved the gun into Shepard's face. "What will it be, Shepard?"

The men behind him were laughing and joking as Ulklan the batarian centurion toyed with their captives. But Shepard kept his mouth shut, glaring daggers at the batarian.

Ulklan frowned, he didn't like having captives who weren't completely broken. It was the slaver inside of him. He drew the gun back and whipped it across Shepard's face, knocking the commander into the ground. "I asked you a question, damnit!" He roared, shoving the gun in his face again. "Answer me, worm!"

Shepard cough as blood filled his mouth again, murmuring something incoherent.

Ulklan grinned, thinking his prisoner was broken. "Speak up, prisoner." He urged him.

Shepard turned away to spit out blood and looked back right into the batarian's eye. "God are you ugly or what?"

A couple of snickers broke past the silence from his men, and Ulklan's face grew red with rage. He stood up and kicked Shepard across the head. "Fucking human bastard!" he turned to address his men, "Who the fuck snickered? Was it you, Klorr?"

Meanwhile, as the batarian beat the commander, Thane was busy going over many scenarios in his head. He was in a similar situation once when he was cornered, injured and unarmed, during one of his hits and instantly knew several ways to strike. However, the big difference here was that now he was also responsible for two incapacitated and fully grown people, and collateral damage was not an option. He had an ace up his sleeve however, or more appropriately, in his jacket. He had a single flash bang left from the arsenal he had brought to ensure Shepard's visit to Aria go unimpeded.

His eyes looked around at their captors. Not a single one of them was training their guns on them. They were laughing, carefree and their guard down. They were safe in their numbers they thought, taking comfort that they were the top of the food chain in this situation. They were wrong, however; None of them were safe, as they made the mistake of keeping Thane alive.

His hand slowly snuck inside his jacket and gripped the grenade while his eyes eyed the gun that was lying several feet away from him, his actions going entirely unnoticed. He could take this chance. By all means he should take this chance. The odds of them dying were high, but it was the best decision to make considering every other scenario led to certain death.

Just as his muscles tensed to strike, there was a series of blinks in the distance, in an open window from across the plaza that caught his attention. It took a moment to process what he was seeing to recognize it as a code known only to hanar-trained drell assassins.

DO YOU SEE ME? I HAVE A CLEAR VIEW OF YOUR FACE. BLINK IN RESPONSE.The message said, repeating itself over and over again.

Thane chanced a glance at the commotion going on around him. Shepard was now being kicked repeatedly and beaten down by a group of mercs with Ulklan orchestrating it all. They beat him savagely, but Shepard was still alive. He turned back to the blinking light and returned the code with a series of blinking with his eyes.

YES, I SEE YOU. Thane began, trying to keep the message clear as he blinked. ARE YOU FRIEND OR FOE?

A tense few moments passed by before the blinking light in the distance altered its patterns, coding a new message.

FRIEND.

Thane was still suspicious, but he couldn't deny the rush of relief coursing through him. He was about to reply, but his new 'friend' wasn't done sending him a message.

WHEN I GIVE YOU THE SIGNAL, LIE AS FLAT AGAINST THE GROUND AS YOU CAN.

Thane raised his eyebrow slightly, and blinked back. HOW CAN I TRUST YOU?

There was a pause before the reply came. LOOK TO YOUR NINE O'CLOCK. YOUR OTHER SQUADMATES ARE LYING THERE IN WAIT FOR AN OPPORTUNITY TO STRIKE. GIVE THEM A HEADS UP.

Sure enough, when Thane took a glance to his left, he saw a flash of orange armor that was undoubtedly Zaeed, lying prone along the ramp going up from the market district. Knowing that the old human was watching him, he started signaling the mercenary with human sign language, telling him to get ready to strike. He looked back towards the blinking lights and replied: ALRIGHT, I AM PUTTING MY FAITH IN YOU.

There was another long pause before the reply came back.

IT IS IN GOOD HANDS, BROTHER. NOW COUNT TO THREE.

Zaeed cursed as he saw the gestures Thane was making at him. "Shit, what does this guy have in mind…" He mumbled, as he lay prone on the ramp leading upwards towards the plaza, peeking over the edge, rifle at the ready. Beside him, Jacob and Miranda were also lying prone, brandishing their heavy pistols.

Miranda turned to face him. "What's wrong?" she whispered urgently.

"He just gave me the signal to get ready to fire."

Jacob did a spit-take, having been busy looking over the situation. "He what?"

Zaeed shook his head. "Well, if the man says so…"

Miranda was about to protest when a shot rang out in the plaza, and another, and another. Somebody was sniping the mercs from somewhere in the distance. No, she corrected herself, not just somebody. Judging by the rate of fire and number of targets hit, it was a lot of somebodies.

Before they could say anything else, the three of them rose up and began to open fire as well, catching the Suns in their flanks.

As the first shot rang out, Thane threw himself prone on the ground and he reached for the pistol lying forgotten beside him. He lay on his belly, his body covering Aria's as he line up a shot, blasting the jaws off of a Turian from below.

All around him, the mercs dropped like flies, completely unprepared for the slaughter that was unleashed upon them. Blood splattered everywhere as great vessels on their necks were penetrated and punctured. If not that, then it was the grey matter of brains from blown open skulls.

Some of the mercs had enough time to raise their guns, firing blindly everywhere as they screamed in terror. Ulklan seemed terrified above all, his voice rising in pitch, yelling shrill orders to his men about getting into formation and brandishing his shotgun meaninglessly. It was a beautiful moment, Thane thought, when a high-powered shot tore into the batarian's neck, nearly severing his head from his body. In almost the same instance, another shot blasted his skull like an overripe fruit, his head and neck turning into a gory fireworks display.

What lasted mere seconds seemed to take forever, but sure enough, it was finally over. Wach and every merc that had been standing around them now lay dead on the ground via a most gruesome and violent way. He looked beneath him and was relieved to see Aria safe from further harm. He heard the sound of heavy boots tapping on steel floor and he knew Zaeed, Jacob and Miranda were converging on him even before he turned his head.

Zaeed was approaching quick but cautiously, his rifle up as his eyes scanned through the bodies around them. If he would happened upon one that wasn't quite dead, he would be more than happy to send them on their way. Each and every body they came across however was dead as dead could be. "Bloody hell…"

Miranda knelt down beside Thane, who politely brushed her off.

"We're fine… Go look at Shepard." He said to her urgently.

They found him out-cold and buried underneath a mound of bodies. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of which not his, but still breathing.

Jacob and Miranda worked swiftly as they applied medi-gel onto the commander's many injuries. With Zaeed keeping watch.

The grizzled merc turned to Thane, confusion evident on his face. "What the hell was that, Krios?"

Thane merely looked up at him from where he was still lying down, looking tired and disheveled. "Friends."

"Friends?" Zaeed asked, still confused.

The voice that answered Zaeed from behind him was definitely not Thane's. "Friends."

Zaeed whipped around, rifle at the ready, but saw nobody there. "I swear I must be getting soft in the head in my old age…" He muttered, looking for something that clearly wasn't there.

Suddenly, the empty air in front of him crackled and shimmered, revealing several fully kitted-out commandoes, wielding huge Widow heavy sniper rifles in hand, and dressed in non-descript, but still oddly uniformed, black and white light armor. Their faces were all masked, their eyes hidden by red-tinted goggles.

Jacob and Miranda stopped whatever they were doing and drew out their guns, joining Zaeed in aiming at the soldiers who uncloaked in their midst.

Miranda got up and walked cautiously towards the new arrivals, who made no move to defend themselves. "Who are you?"

They heard someone clear his throat, and in front of the commandoes, another figure uncloaked, shimmering into existence. "We seem to have gotten off the wrong foot." The newly revealed drell began, dressed in a similar fashion to Thane. "My name is Feron. The Shadow Broker sends her regards…"

At this, Shepard stirred from where he was lying. "Liara…" He managed to weakly say.

Miranda looked at the drell in the eye, who still made no move to defend himself, and lowered her gun. At this, Zaeed and Jacob followed suit. "The Shadow Broker sent you?" she asked.

"Yes, there will be time to explain later, but things are not quite the way they seem here on Omega…" He looked past her and towards Shepard and Aria. "I have medics with me. Would you let them see to your injured? Once they are stable we can move to a safer location."

Miranda nodded her head and without further prompting, two of the commandoes set aside their guns and made towards Aria and Shepard respectively. "Thank you…" She replied, exhaustion slowly creeping up on her. "What do you mean things aren't as they seem here in Omega?"

"We are here to investigate the Patriarch."

Thane perked up as he heard this, kneeling beside Aria as the medic tended to her. "I can answer that." He began, catching everybody's attention. "The Patriarch seems to be the puppet master behind this chaos."

Feron whistled. "A pretty impressive feat, if I may add."

"Yes. From what I hear, nobody thought the Patriarch had it in him anymore."

"Oh no, I wasn't talking about that…" Feron dismissed.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just that the krogan warlord known as the Patriarch has been dead for weeks."