Chapter 30: Lines Drawn in Blood
Saren walked along the bloodied and dead-littered corridors of the space station with Zsasz and Silence in tow. The voices in his head were gone, along with the red hazed rage that fueled his most violent and bestial tendencies. Zsasz had said something about needing to pick something up at the armory. If what they were really going to Omega, they probably needed all the guns they could carry. Passing by the shredded remains of the men he had killed made him feel uneasy.
This uneasiness didn't stem from remorse, mind you. Saren couldn't give a damn if he had slaughtered each and every human on this damned station twice over. It was the fact that he had lost control over himself, giving in to something that was most certainly not him. Speaking of being not him, that described his current situation perfectly. He was acclimatizing to his new body pretty well, but it was who this body was that annoyed him. Not only was it a human body, but it was a clone of Shepard's body that he inhabited. To look in a mirror and see your most hated rival stare back wasn't something he was looking forward to everyday from now on. He even sounded like the man, much to his distaste.
Then there were the memories. They were hazy and some were missing context and entire events, but he remembered them as if he was there. These were Shepard's memories, artifacts from when his mind took control of this cloned body. It was jarring, seeing himself not just in Shepard's skin, but also being Shepard.
There was one memory in particular that stood out.
She was funny, intelligent. A woman he could be himself with.
Why couldn't he just say that he had feelings for her?
Was it too inconvenient for the both of them?
He… He loved her.
No, Saren thought, slightly shaking his head just from the thought of it. This wasn't him, this was Shepard. The man truly was a sentimental sap. Saren was only along for the ride, and the sooner he could get these memories out of his head, the better. Shepard should have known better; men like them couldn't afford to be tied down by things like love. They were destined for bigger, greater things, things that could shift the fate of the galaxy. Love only got in the way of results.
His eyes wandered subtly to look over his two new companions. Neither was paying any heed to the corpses all around them as they continued to walk. He would be lying if he said his uneasiness wasn't also due in part to these two.
Silence was walking quite daintily beside him, though her face was still very much blank. She was beautiful, but her eyes were dead, almost looking glazed over. Since that vision, or memory as she had called it, she didn't speak a single word again, true to her name. She turned to look at him and smiled almost sweetly. Saren merely scoffed and looked away, turning his attention to the other one. Silence was a lackey, he was sure of it, seeing as how she was very protective of the man walking in front of them. It was this man that held the answers he needed.
Zsasz had his hands clasped behind him, walking in front of the group and leading the way. He looked quite frail as an older human man, but this was merely a deceptive front. Beneath all of that lay an almost supernatural beast. Viciousness tempered with ruthless intelligence. Saren learned firsthand not to underestimate this annoying human. When he gets the chance, he would be sure to remember that. For now, he will play along with their plans.
There was a noise up ahead of metal on metal. The footsteps of men wearing heavy armor. Saren scoffed again; you would think these Cerberus Troopers would know better by now.
"Hmm, Saren." Zsasz said, stopping as the footsteps grew nearer, turning to look at him. "I believe now would be an excellent time to teach you about your Aspect abilities."
"Aspect?" Saren asked quizzically. "Is now really the best time?" he said, eyes looking at the corner where the troopers would undoubtedly come out from any second now.
"The Aspect is the piece of Father that we carry in all of us." Zsasz said, ignoring Saren's remarks. "Those that bear Father's blood are blessed with superior physiologies and other helpful abilities… Some of which we share among us, others are unique to each of our siblings."
For a moment, his eyes changed into that of a dead man's, white and milky. His spectacles glazed over from the light, and when they were revealed again his eyes looked normal. It was at this moment that the troopers rounded the corner, 14 in total, guns raised and taking up firing positions.
"This is Reynolds, we have visual on the clone- Is that Doctor Zsasz? Doctor!" the Centurion leading them called out. "Get away from him quickly!" He said, before his eyes focused on Silence. "A turian? Shit, are you responsible for this catastrophe, alien!?"
"That voice…" Zsasz said, turning around to face the troopers. "Could it be you, Security Chief Reynolds?" he said casually. "My, my, I have been thinking. Seeing the sad state of this place, I should have you all fired for not doing your jobs."
Reynolds was visibly taken aback by the statement. "Have you lost your mind, doc!?" he yelled out, "That psychopath is right beside you!"
Saren's muscles tensed, ready to strike out towards the troopers when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. He looked beside him to see Silence looking at him meaningfully, shaking her head slowly. His guard was still up, but he stood his ground instead of attacking, heeding her unspoken message.
"Psychopath?" Zsasz said, looking clueless as he slowly made his way towards them in an unassuming swagger, and then pointing at Saren. "Oh, you mean him? What an astute observation, Chief. But please, don't change the subject… I said that you are all fired." He said, waggling a finger at them.
"What are you-?" Before Reynolds could finish the statement, Zsasz suddenly bolted right up to his face, thrusting his finger through Reynolds' visor and plunging it deep into his right eye socket, rupturing the eyeball that lay there in a spurt of aqueous fluid and blood. As quick as it happened, Zsasz pulled his bloody finger out, just in time for Reynolds to register the pain. "EEYYYAAARGH!" he wailed, trying to clutch the hole through his head to no avail and dropping to a heap on the ground. With a twirl of his hand, Zsasz grabbed onto the rifle Reynolds was holding and took it for himself.
This prompted the troopers to step up to Zsasz, pulling Reynolds behind them with weapons drawn and aimed at the man that was supposed to be in charge of the Station. "Stand down, Doc!" one of the troopers barked at him. "Put down the gun or we will open fire!"
Saren suddenly heard an ear-piercing ringing in his head, making him wince a little. The doctor's voice suddenly boomed all around him, and he realized the man was speaking to him telepathically.
"The main thing you must have noticed is your enhanced physiology." Zsasz said in Saren's head, the man still in a stand-off with the troopers. "The Father's blood makes you stronger, faster and accelerates your regenerative capabilities. It also grants you powerful biotic abilities, so much more substantial than even some asari matriarchs." The man continued. "This is because the Father's blood imparts you with a portion of his divinity, putting you a step above normal beings." As if to prove his point, Zsasz lifted the gun and aimed down its sights, prompting the troopers to open fire.
Saren held his arms across his face, instinctively creating a barrier to shield Silence and himself, bullets splattering against it like rain drops. Zsasz however opted to just stand there, and was riddled with bullet holes as a result, weathering the storm of gunfire as bits and pieces of his flesh got punched out of his body in a bloody mess. The gun exploded in his grasp as it was shredded by bullets, leving his hand in bloody stumps. Whole chunks of the man were blown away by the barrage, but still he remained standing on both feet in a steadily growing pool of his own blood. Finally, the troopers' weapons clicked empty.
"Wounds that would kill the hardiest of men… Mean nothing to us." Zsasz said dismissively in Saren's head. "But these abilities were meant for a god. For us mortals to use it puts great strain on our bodies. The more we use it, the more we put ourselves in peril. You've noticed the blood lust when you woke up, haven't you? The need to kill?"
Meanwhile, the troopers shifted their attention from Zsasz's mangled body and focused on Saren and Silence, despite the fact that it was still standing. They hurried past Zsasz's form and reloaded their weapons, aiming it at the pair. "You two! On the ground!" One of the troopers commanded.
Saren was prepared to strike, when he heard a mirthful laugh from inside his head. "Mortals do not have the limitless well of power gods possess, so we starve for energy. The more we use the Father's abilities, our metabolisms accelerate, and we must meet our bodies needs to stay alive." Saren realized that the troopers were all standing in the puddle of Zsasz's blood, which was spreading out unnaturally at this point, practically creeping on the floor. "We starve. So we must consume."
Suddenly, over a dozen sickly looking, slender blue tinged arms burst from the puddle of blood as if it were a deep body of water hiding unseen bodies, grabbing the troopers by their legs with their clawed hands. The troopers panicked and opened fire at the puddle where the arms were sprouting from. At such close quarters, the bullets ricocheted and would result in friendly-fire, bouncing off the steel floor. "What the hell are these?!" more than one of the troopers said as more arms shot out from the blood, grabbing onto them as they tried to bat them away with their shock-batons in vain. Saren couldn't help but ask the same thing as the arms started to pull the troopers down to the ground, overpowering them as they reached for their necks.
In the middle of it all, Zsasz's mangled body stood like an imposing idol dedicated to the macabre. Zsasz clasped his hands behind his back once more, and turned to Saren, showing his shredded face that exposed a skeletal grin where the bullets blew his face away. "Our Aspects also grant us unique abilities that we do not share with each other. Mine is called 'Grieving Dead'. It allows me to communicate with all of you telepathically, no matter the distance between us. It also grants me this…" He explained as the arms started to snap the necks of the subdued troopers in a chorus of sickening crunches. Then, the owners of the arms started to rise from the blood. They were husks, dead eyes shining and mouths bristling with fangs. They started to bite into the troopers and feast on their flesh. It was worth to note that not all of them were dead at this point. "These husks are made from pieces of my body." Zsasz said, over the shrieks of the dying. "Not only do I feed on whatever they eat, but the more organic material they consume, the more their numbers become."
But Saren wasn't listening anymore, and had already assumed a fighting position. "You may like to keep me in the dark, but there is one thing that I do know." He said, backing away from Silence and Zsasz. "Only Reapers have husks."
Zsasz merely sighed, like an exasperated teacher who has gone over the same lecture hundreds of times. "During his war with the Reapers, Father utilized their own technology against them, turning legions of the otherwise noncombat ready population into willing soldiers. Knowing your… past experience, I wanted to show you first hand before telling you." Zsasz finished apologetically.
"That doesn't explain the… Feeding." Saren pointed out. These were only humans, but something inside him knew this was more barbaric than anything even he could come up with. And using his own people as husks? This Father was starting to sound less and less virtuous by the minute.
"It is… Gruesome, I know. But you must understand, Father did what he must. And like Him, we must do the Father's work, no matter the cost. We can feed on anything, but sentient life grants us the most energy." One of the husks handed him a severed hand which Zsasz took. "Here, try it. You haven't eaten anything after all those displays of your power, little brother. You must be hungry." He smirked, tossing the hand to Saren.
Saren caught the hand and inspected it. Blood was oozing from where it was severed, trickling like sweet honey into his own fingers. His mouth grew wet and his stomach growled quietly. The blood looked so soothing, inviting him to take a juicy bite. Something in his mind was clicking, trying to grasp onto his train of thought. He shrugged it off, but it was slowly trying to creep its way back. Something was wrong with this situation, he realized. "No thanks." He said, tossing the hand back which was snapped up by a couple of husks, both fighting over it. "I've lost my appetite."
He looked at the blood on his hands and resisted the urge to lick it clean. The more he was finding out about his companions, the less eager he was to help them achieve their plans.
Zsasz squinted what was left of his eyes as he looked over Saren. "I see. Perhaps later, then?" He said. His husks had all but finished consuming the troopers, leaving only bloody gristle on the floor that they were greedily picking through. Curious, he thought. Saren was somehow resisting the Father's blood. Impossible, he concluded, it only needs a little more time to set in. Still it would help to be cautious.
"Silence, my dear. Saren makes me worry." Zsasz said telepathically to the turian. "Do keep an eye on our brother, won't you? Though I'm sure I didn't need to tell you that."
Silence merely glanced in his direction and gave the slightest of nods before returning her sights towards Saren.
"Very well." He said out loud, "Let us make our way towards the armory, shall we?"
Shots rang out, blasting off the top of Zsasz's skull.
Chief Reynold's lay on the ground with his discarded helmet next to him, one hand clutching his bleeding eye socket and the other one holding a smoking carnifex heavy pistol. He fired of several more shots, blasting away at Zsasz's ruined body until he ran empty. "What have you done, Zsasz?" He demanded, panting heavily. "You've betrayed Cerberus!"
"Betrayed Cerberus? Why yes, I do believe I have. Is pointing out the obvious your only defining trait, chief?" Zsasz spoke, unperturbed by the assault. The husks dove back into the puddle of his blood, which slowly receded back towards his body. His wounds started to smoke and catch fire as he regenerated his maimed form. "Unfortunately, I have no need for someone like that." With a wave of his hand, the chief was surrounded by a biotic field and lifted off the ground.
"You won't get away with this! Once the Illusive Man gets wind of this treachery, you'll pay!"
"Let him hear about it. I'm done playing with his toys." Zsasz's head caught on fire as the gaping hole in his skull closed, hair growing to reform his white mane and beard. Even the holes in his clothing were mended as well as his spectacles. "Take solace in the fact that you never stood a chance."
"Go to hell!"
"You first." Zsasz replied as he smashed Reynolds into the wall, knocking the wind out of him and left him lying in a heap on the floor. With a snap of his fingers, two husks warped out of his arm like tumorous growths, rushing at the suffering security chief and ripping him apart limb from limb as they feasted on his flesh. "Hmm, what an annoying distraction." He said, then turning to face Saren as blood splattered on the walls. "As I was saying, shall we continue?"
Saren merely scoffed before replying. "Lead the way."
The rest of the way towards the armory was uneventful, encountering only the dead that littered the floor.
"Ah, here we are." Zsasz said as they stopped in front of a heavily reinforced door, accessing the system with his omnitool. After a few moments, there was a loud click and the doors slid apart, revealing a large room lined with arms and armor. "Well then, take anything you fancy, little brother. I just have to look for something…"
Saren instinctively wandered to the gun racks that littered the walls and started to go through the weapons there. He probably didn't need firearms anymore, but there was a soothing familiarity whenever he held a gun in his grip. He began taking out guns and setting them down on a table behind him, picking out choice pistols and rifles from the bunch.
As he did this, Silence stood nearby, watching his every move with seemingly passive interest. Saren looked over his shoulder to be met with her blank stare, much to his annoyance.
"Must you do that?" He asked, his patience running thin.
Silence merely tilted her head to one side as if in confusion.
Saren simply sighed and said, "Never mind." He chose to simply ignore her rather than attempt any semblance of a conversation with her, leaving Silence quite content in her observation of him. It was those eyes. She was beautiful, no doubt, but those eyes were unnerving. He played with the thought of gouging them out just to get it out of his system. She'd be fine afterwards of course, but he thought that she might not appreciate the act itself all too well.
He looked over his shoulder again and sure enough, she was still staring at him, but this time with the slightest bit of a self-satisfied grin of victory on her face. He rolled his eyes and chided himself for playing into her intentions. For a woman who said she did not like games, Silence was good at them, much to his annoyance.
He had gathered a good number of guns now, laying the assortment of guns neatly on the table. Some of this gear was unknown to him, no doubt Cerberus homebrewed their own unique weapons. The assault rifle he was holding however took the most of his interest as he aimed down its sights, checking its weight and balance. It took him a few tries, but in a matter of moments he was fluidly unloading and reloading the new weapon. The label on the rack said Cerberus Harrier. Turning the safety off, he unloaded unto the far wall, sending a steady stream of bullets pounding into the steel. If he ever had a good thing to say about humans, it would be that they at least knew enough to make a more than decent gun.
"There's a shooting range, you know?" Zsasz said as he reappeared from a panel on the wall.
"I'm quite aware." Saren said as he popped out the spent thermal clip and loaded in a fresh one.
"Hmm, well then." Zsasz replied, pulling the panel open wider. "Guns are one thing, but I do believe I have some armor to interest you with."
"Why bother with armor? It would seem like we don't need it."
"True, but the more you regenerate, then the more energy you spend. And the more energy you spend, the more likely it is that you will burn out." Zsasz explained. "We are more than mortals, but we are not immortal, little brother. Anyway, come; come take a look at this." He said, waving him over.
Saren filed that interesting bit of information in the back of his mind. So there was a way to kill these people. If they could still be called people, that is.
The panel revealed a second room, almost as big as the first, lined with armor of all kinds from heavy frontline infantry to lightweight scouting gear. But one set of armor caught Saren's eye more so than the rest. It was black lined with orange and gold trimmings, resting on a rack in the middle. Like most other things here, the design was not something he had encountered in his long, bloody, illustrious career as a Spectre. Unconsciously, he began to gravitate towards it.
"Hmm, you have good taste." Zsasz said, walking up beside him. "I meant to let you have this particular set of armor. My colleague designed it for use by experimental Cerberus biotics. Your aspect gives you a particular propensity for biotics, it is only right that you take this armor."
Saren merely grunted as he took the armor from the rack. It felt light, but solid at the same time, inlaid with a light hexagonal pattern that Cerberus seems to like so much.
A few minutes later, Saren fiddled with the last few clasps on his torso and gauntlet and slid the helmet around his head. There was a light hiss of pressurization as the armor sealed off its environment and lit up its HUD. The onboard computer booted up and began processing data, synching up with his omnitool. He clenched his fists and rolled his shoulders, finding the fit to be more than comfortable.
"Yes, it suits you quite nice." Zsasz said, reappearing with a new set of armor of his own. The old man looked out of place in combat gear. "Do take the time to look up the armor's features on the ride to Omega, you'll find it most helpful."
"Of course." Saren replied as if he didn't need Zsasz to tell him that. It was at this point that Silence reappeared as well, wearing a tight fitting light armor that hugged her body well. She turned to look at him and gave only the slightest of smiles with a quick wink. Saren was still a man, and found that his gaze lingered a bit too long before he caught himself. This woman annoyed him.
Back in the main room of the armory, Saren began loading up as much guns and ammo as he could carry, with Zsasz and Silence doing the same next to him. After packing enough firepower to compare with a small troop of soldiers, the trio left the armory and headed towards the shuttle bay without uttering another word.
The quiet was not something Saren was becoming fond of. It gave him time to think about his situation, and the more he thought about it, the more it soured his mood.
And here he was, diving head first into something he didn't entirely understand. He wasn't sure if he wanted to understand it, either. All he knew was that whatever they had planned, he was a crucial part of it. They say that it was to rid the galaxy of Reapers forever, but with each passing moment, he was growing more concerned of what they might replace it with. These two individuals walking alongside him called him sibling, and apparently there were more of them out there. What would his brother, Desolas, think of him if he were to catch him calling a human brother?
His train of thought was interrupted when they approached the shuttle bay and Zsasz motioning for them to halt.
"Oh dear…" The man grumbled, turning to Silence. "You told me you've sabotaged all of them?"
Silence merely tilted her head in a half shrug.
"Oh don't give me that." Zsasz chided. "Dear sister, is it too much to ask to keep your head out of the clouds and in the here and now? Bah, nevermind."
Saren didn't like not being part of the conversation, even if it was one-sided. "What's the matter?"
"Well, I asked a simple favor from our sometimes airheaded sister and she couldn't even follow through completely." Zsasz moaned. "Now we'll have to deal with an Atlas in there."
"Atlas?"
"Yes, we had a whole division of them stationed in this base." Zsasz explained. "A mere 5 units, but they are hardier than an entire platoon of soldiers. Apparently Silence missed one." His tone of voice wasn't fearful so much as it was annoyed that he had to go out of his way to do something about it.
It didn't answer his question of what an Atlas was, but if five counted for platoon strength then it must be a formidable beast. Saren set the case of guns down and rolled his neck, pulling out the harrier from his back. "Then I'll just take it out the good old fashioned way."
"Lead on then, brother." Zsasz said, pulling out his own weapon. Silence also did the same, but Saren raised a hand to stop them.
"I work alone."
"You'll have to learn to play nice, little brother, we are a family and family-" Zsasz was cut short when Saren brushed past him, nudging him aside with his shoulder.
"I said I work alone." Saren repeated, stepping up towards the shuttle bay.
Silence made to follow him but Zsasz held her back, a look of amusement on his face. "Let him go, sister. I sometimes forget what the name Saren Arterius evokes." He said, holding on to her for a little bit longer until she had settled down. "His guard is still too high. Maybe with this little exertion of force, it will break it down enough to let the Father's influence slowly trickle in."
Saren rounded the corner and he saw the doorway that led to the shuttle bay. It was quiet save for the inner machinations of the station, but he felt something. It was only a slight vibration, but his senses picked it up. There were Cerberus troopers past those doors lying in wait to ambush anybody who comes around. Had Saren not locked the system earlier, then these troops would have commandeered a shuttle for themselves and have left the station as soon as they could.
He looked around for any other entry point. The moment he'd step foot into their line of sight, he'd just be unloaded upon. That was when his comm crackled from a transmission on the open channel.
"Attention all units in the shuttle bay." Zsasz began. "This is Dr. Viktor Zsasz. Be advised that friendlies are en route to the shuttle bay. I repeat, friendlies are en route, check your fire."
"Copy that, doc, approach at your discretion."
Saren rolled his eyes from the unwanted help. Well, it was helpful enough, he conceded as he made his way to the doors. They split apart to open and revealed a number of troopers in fortified positions behind hastily moved crates, bristling with guns that were all trained on him. But what caught his attention was a humongous mech standing at the forefront of them all, larger than any Ymir he'd seen by far and probably rivaling some Geth colossi.
So that's an Atlas, he mused to himself as he calmly walked over to their position. That's going to be a good time, dealing with that thing.
"Not a step further!" One of the troopers barked at him, making him stop mid step. "Where's the doc?"
"He hung back to help the rest of the survivors." He said, thinking quickly. "I was sent ahead to unlock the systems, we're officially evacuating."
A number of hopeful whispers were heard from behind the barricade as the troopers discussed their imminent escape with barely contained excitement.
"That's great news!" The trooper replied out loud to him, assumedly the squad leader. "That's some fancy gear you got on you, though. What's your name and rank soldier?"
Saren fumbled for a common human name in his head. "Smith." He said, almost too loud and suddenly. "I'm with engineering. We got to the armory on the way here and figured why not get the good stuff."
"Never heard of you!" the commanding officer said, prompting the then relaxed guns to become vigilant again.
"I'm a new transfer." He shouted back unperturbed. "I'm here to override the lock-down, now if you could let me get to work, we'll be out of here before we all get ourselves killed."
A few tense moments passed by before the officer lowered his gun, prompting his men to do the same.
"Stow the gun and you can approach." The officer relented. "The sooner we can get out of this living nightmare, the better."
Saren broke into a brisk pace as he approached the defensive line, putting the gun on his back. "About time." He said as he casually strolled past their barricades and walking towards the Atlas. Better get rid of that thing first, he thought to himself. He walked around it, looking for any structural weak point he could use to his advantage. The pilot made it easy for him as he kept the mech vigilantly facing the entrance to the shuttle bay. Spotting an exhaust vent on its back brought an evil grin to Saren's face. A few grenades would do the trick just fine. As he reached for said grenades, he felt a hand clasp on his shoulder.
"Hey buddy, the console's that way." The trooper said, pointing the way with his thumb. "Get cracking, I don't want to die here."
"Sure, no problem." Saren said, straining to keep from punching the trooper in the gut just for touching him. "I just need you to hold onto something for me."
"Alright, what is it?" The trooper said, holding out a hand expectantly.
Instead of giving him anything however, Saren grabbed the hand, pulling the trooper in to punch the man in the gut and stick a couple of grenades to his suit. Flipping him over his shoulders, Saren then proceeded to throw the man towards the back of the Atlas, using a small biotic field to make the trooper stick on it. A moment later, the grenade exploded, shredding the trooper apart and making the Atlas stumble down to its knees. He had just pulled out his rifle when the other troopers took note of his apparent betrayal and started to open fire in his direction.
Sliding into the cover of a nearby crate, Saren felt the bullets fly past him as combat instinct took control. He didn't necessarily need to dodge, but his muscle memory just carried most of his actions. Also, Zsasz had mentioned the strain that using the Aspect put on the host body. So be it if it made him weaker, he won't play right into their hands.
At the end of a day, he was still Saren Arterius.
He needed to remind the galaxy why that name was feared.
Popping out of cover, he retaliated with several short bursts that ended with the death shriek of several troopers. The weapon clicked empty and he dipped back into cover, reloading the gun in one fluid motion as bullets zoomed pass overhead or ricocheted off of his cover.
There was yelling and the audible din of boots running on the floor as the troopers scrambled, no doubt trying to outflank him. Since they were coming in from two different directions, Saren pulled out his heavy pistol, now holding one gun in each hand. Breathing out, Saren leapt over cover as adrenaline took him and time seemed to slowdown, making his enemies look like they were moving in slow motion.
The enemy, seemingly surprised by his unexpected choice of actions paused for a brief moment, giving Saren enough time to line up his shots. Squeezing the triggers, Saren roared in savage glee as he savored each bullet hole punched into the bodies of his enemies. By the time the enemy was firing back, he had already taken out three of them.
Lunging towards the group closest to him, Saren ducked to a roll as bullets bounced off of his shield and singled out one of the troopers he was closing in on. Evil intentions must have been shining in his eyes as he closed in for melee because the trooper practically threw away his empty gun and desperately fumbled to pull out his shock-baton. Grappling with the man, Saren wrested the baton from his grasp and flipped him around, wrapping his arm around the trooper's neck, using him as a shield.
As expected, the others hesitated to fire upon their comrade, long enough for Saren to jam the barrel of his assault rifle into the troopers back. "You know how long it takes for bullets to chew through armor at point blank range?" He whispered into the man's ear.
"Huh?" The man grunted in terror.
"Me neither. Let's find out." Pulling the trigger, the man started to convulse and gurgle as bullets tore past the back of his torso armor and deep into his flesh. A couple of seconds later, the bullets erupted from the man's chest piece towards his companions, replacing the plume of muzzle flare with blood and entrails as the unprepared troopers succumbed to the gunfire.
The other group was quick to retreat behind the relative cover of the cargo crates, watching in horror as Saren mercilessly and efficiently killed several men in cold blood. Saren dropped the lifeless corpse, or at least the half that hadn't already fallen to pieces on the floor, and looked over their direction.
He was just standing there out in the open, but something was holding the men back from even raising their guns. It was fear, they realized. It was fear that made their sweat run cold and their bodies frozen in place. One of the men started to hyperventilate, before shouting in a mix of primal emotions, getting up from out of cover and unloading on Saren. Emboldened by their companion's display, the rest followed his lead, sending a storm of bullets in Saren's general direction.
Saren sighed in amusement as he lazily erected a barrier, deflecting the bullets that pitter pattered uselessly on its surface. Despite the ineffectiveness of their assault, the troopers still fired away haphazardly though, and he could practically smell the terror in the air. The troopers were probably all stressed from the hell that he had put them through these past couple of days. All of the dead bodies he left lying about or crucified on walls as well as broadcasting audio of people suffering a long and painful death across the station had probably broken their morale into tiny little pieces.
There was no mercy in his system, not like that bleeding-heart Shepard. This was good, he thought. This was a test that he put himself through, and he passed with flying colors. There were no flashbacks of Shepard's heart-warming memories or a disembodied Shepard voice in his head telling him what was right and what was not. He may not look like himself anymore, but he was still Saren Arterius.
It didn't take long for the Cerberus troopers' guns to click empty, and the men quickly panicked and fumbled to reload.
It was at this moment that Saren pointed at one of them. "You." He said dryly, causing the man to stare at him in terror. "Then you." Saren said, pointing to the man to his right. "Then you." He said again, pointing to a third man. "And then finally, you." He finished, lingering on the fourth and last man.
The men felt a lead weight drop in their stomachs when they realized he was pointing out the order in which he was going to kill them, causing them to panic and fumble with their thermal clips in their shaking hands.
With a grin of malice, Saren rushed to their position and closed the distance between them swiftly. Jumping over the crates, he landed a couple of meters to the right of the first man, who started shrieking in fear.
The man finally got his gun reloaded, but it was too late as Saren pounced on him, driving a balled fist violently into the man's helmet, catching the trooper cleanly in the face with an ear splitting crack. The man went limp, but before he could even start to fall, Saren brought his leg up and kicked the man full on the chin. The kick lifted the trooper a few inches off the ground, and Saren batted the corpse away with another kick, sending it flying into a heap several meters away.
The three other men had reloaded their guns, but Saren was quick to press the attack, pulling out his pistol and sending a bullet into the neck of the next trooper, rupturing a jugular vein and splattering blood everywhere.
The third man was squeezing the trigger of his gun and rushed at him, lost in the throes of fight or flight. Saren grabbed the bleeding trooper and threw him towards the third man, who inadvertently shot the man dead before he could bleed out. Horrified by what he had done, the third trooper dropped the gun, only to be reminded that Saren was still in front of him.
"Useless." Saren muttered as the trooper tried to reach for his shock baton with a shaking hand. Saren simply stepped right up to the trooper and grabbed him by the throat, cracking the cartilage in the man's windpipe and watched as the man started to choke and gurgle, dropping to his knees and clutching his throat.
The last man stood there with his gun shaking too much to be of any use. Saren glanced at him sideways, looking him over sinisterly. Apparently that was enough to send the last man over the edge as he turned his gun to his own head and pulled the trigger, blasting his own brains out.
"Heh, I still got it." Saren grinned with much satisfaction underneath his helmet. His victory was short-lived however as the loud noise of an engine revving up interrupted him, followed by the pressurized hisses of gigantic pistons moving along with the heavy thuds of metal on metal. Saren turned to see that the Atlas was getting up. Doctor Zsasz wasn't kidding when he said these things were tough, Saren noted to himself as the large mech suit turned to face him, weapons primed.
Before he could make any kind of quip, the mech raised an arm and fired a rocket at Saren, who was quick to jump to the side and erect a barrier. The hastily erected barrier shattered as it made contact with the explosion's shockwave, throwing Saren across the shuttle bay and into a crate, breaking it as he crashed.
His shields faltered but the armor proved formidable enough to handle this kind of direct contact. Saren got up and jumped out of the way just in time as the Atlas blasted his landing spot with cannon fire, sending debris flying everywhere. He made for his guns, only to find that he was grabbing at air. He must have been separated from them during the explosion. Taking this thing with his bare hands was out of the question, but maybe he could use his biotics to level the playing field.
Accumulating biotic energy in his fists, the armor seemed to detect the energy build up and the words 'Activating Biotic Lashes' appeared on his HUD. "Eh?" Suddenly, from out of his gauntlets erupted a pair of long, whip-like coils of pure biotic energy that crackled with raw power. The whips then disappeared the moment he stopped diverting biotic energy into his arms.
"That was interesting." Saren said, genuinely surprised by what just happened. There was a loud click in the air, reminding him that he was still in a fight and that the Atlas was about to fire upon him again. Instead of dodging this time, Saren focused on making a powerful barrier and stood his ground. The cannon blasted away with fury, slamming violently into the barrier. Unlike the last one, this one held its integrity, much to Saren's relief. The Atlas pilot seemed to be just as surprised as he was because the mech took a step back as it reloaded.
It was a long and arduous process, and it gave Saren the perfect opportunity to rush it.
Focusing his biotic field around himself, Saren did a biotic charge that sent him flying right into the Atlas, slamming against the mech and breaking its shields. The Atlas staggered, trying to regain its balance as Saren landed right next to it and dodging its flailing arms.
There was a crackle of electricity in the air as the biotic lashes came to life in Saren's hands. Drawing them back, he lashed out with the whips, striking the teetering Atlas with enough force to knock it down on its back.
Not giving it any time to recover, Saren jumped on top of its cockpit and cracked the whips menacingly as he stared at the pilot through the transparent canopy. Drawing his arms back, Saren started pounding against the canopy with wild abandon. It started to give on the first few strikes, then completely shattering and letting the pilot feel the blows of his whips first hand. Blood and gristle splattered everywhere as the whips mashed the man's flesh into a chunky paste, painting his black suit a dark shade of red. His heart was racing as he reduced the man into a meaty puddle, obliterating his body completely.
With one last lash, Saren stopped, panting as the whips disappeared. Blood was everywhere, and it made him feel alive. The sight of blood was exciting him, he realized much to his terror. What was scaring him even more was that he was starting not to care.
It looked so sweet, so filling. Taking his helmet off, he looked at his blood soaked hands and slowly moved one finger closer to his mouth. Realizing what his body was doing, Saren snapped out of it and hurriedly placed his helmet back on. Something told him that if he were to consume even a drop of blood, then he would enter into a contract with no exit clause.
The sound of clapping brought him back to his senses as Dr. Zsasz walked into the shuttle bay, Silence following obediently behind him, carrying all their gear without complaint. "Well done, little brother!" he said proudly. "I suppose that you're warmed up for the main event when we get to Omega then, yes?"
"No more cryptic clues or dodging my questions, old man." Saren sneered. "What's in Omega that's so bloody important?"
"Yes, I suppose it's time to stop teasing you." Zsasz conceded, walking down the row of ships and picking one seemingly at random. "As you know, Omega was once an asteroid, hollowed out and ravaged by mining corporations over the centuries. But element zero was not the only thing that they found there…"
"Out with it." Saren demanded when Zsasz started to trail off for effect. He hopped off of the Atlas and approached the other man, leaving bloody footprints in his wake. "What did they find?"
"A piece of our Father. Not a mote of dust, not a fragment, but a piece of our Father, larger than all the dust in our bloodstreams combined." Zsasz said somberly. "First it was taken as a souvenir by some mining big-wig, and then it was taken as part of a treasure hoard when the gangs took over. The hoard's location was lost in the bloody history of Omega, but we have narrowed down its location."
"And what do you hope to gain with this 'piece of the Father'?" Saren said, narrowing his eyes on Zsasz.
"It is not just my gain, Saren, but the entire galaxy's!" Zsasz said, a fire in his eyes. "A piece that large will be enough to commune with the Father and awaken him from his slumber across the galaxy. With his power, we can wipe out the Reaper threat in one fell swoop and spread His divine will across the cosmos! Praise be the Father!"
"But that didn't work during Father's time." Saren countered, unconsciously addressing the Father like Zsasz was. "What makes now different?"
"Now? Well, now we have you." Zsasz said, before turning towards the ship he had picked. Silence was already loading their gear into it. "Enough talk, we have a long journey ahead of us to Omega."
"Hey! I wasn't done asking you-!" Saren began to say before Zsasz glared at him from over his shoulder. Gone was the carefree and nonsensical expression, replaced instead by grim determination. Saren couldn't help the chills run up his spine.
"Enough." The doctor said, before ascending the ramp into the ship he had chosen. "Come now, little brother, we have a galaxy to save."
Saren clenched his fists as he eyed Zsasz's retreating form. This human- whatever he was, was not something to be taken likely, he thought to himself. He stood there long enough for Zsasz to look over his shoulder at him again.
"You play an important role, Saren Arterius." Zsaz said, dropping all pretense of his eccentricities. "You may not understand now, but you and you alone can change this galaxy for the good. You will be the one to carry the Father's shining light to the darkest reaches of the universe. To deliver his love to those who need it most, and his wrath to those that deserve it most."
"I'm no holy man, Zsasz."
"But you are Holy. you are the Messiah." Zsasz insisted fervently. "Now, let us go. Do not make me repeat myself."
Saren inhaled sharply as he tried to fight the rage inside of him. This human dared to talk down to him like that? As he was right now, he stood no chance against Zsasz. But there will be openings, times where he let his guard down. For now, he will follow him, and see what all the fuss about this Father character was really about.