Chapter 31: Fire and Broken Things
It was a sight to see, really.
At this time of night, she was supposed to be in a luxurious suite with all of life's finest amenities, lying down on a large circular bed wrapped in divine silk and surrounded by her chosen erotic entertainment for the evening. Soft music would be playing and heady incense would fill the room, and she would gingerly sip spiced wine from a crystal cup as she lost herself in ecstasy.
Instead, Aria T'Loak, pirate queen of Omega, the most powerful gangster in the Terminus systems and quite possibly the civilized galaxy, lay broken on a cot in an overcrowded med bay, serenaded by the beeping of medical instruments and smelling of antiseptic and dried blood, surrounded by strangers.
She turned over gingerly to her side, her knees stiff from her wounds, trying to get more comfortable with little success. She couldn't sleep, and the pain was only the least of the reasons why. Aria T'Loak was angry; angrier than she had ever been in her entire life.
Oh goddess, she thought she had overcome her nightmares. But what Miller did to her brought back a lot of old memories. Terrible memories…
No, she wouldn't think about. She shouldn't think about it!
This wasn't supposed to be happening, least of all to her of all people. She was Aria T'Loak, supreme predator at the top of the food chain, and she had fought her way from nothing to get to the top of that food chain. It was a long and bloody journey, with a lot of gangsters meeting their end down the barrel of her gun. In the end, she had thought of herself as untouchable.
Apparently, she had thought wrong.
She should have been more aware of her situation, kept tighter reigns on the leashes of the mercs and both eyes and ears to the information grid. She should have seen this disaster coming miles away. But in the end, she still proved to be too complacent. Now the Afterlife, her ivory tower, was no more. What was left lay in a twisted, smoldering wreckage littered with the dead of a long and bloody night. She had been chased out of her home, her station, by a bunch of upstart mercs and a vengeful foe that she had long disgraced. She could make all the excuses she wanted, but deep down she knew what really happened. She had failed, plain and simple. The pain in her maimed hand served as a grim reminder of that. Not to mention her knees… It would be no small miracle if she could walk properly after this.
Not only did she fail herself, but also the men and women under her command. Right now, those who were still alive were fighting tooth and nail every minute to stay alive for just a little while longer. She had lost so much of them already. Grizz, Anto, Moklan… Everybody from her inner circle was dead, leaving only the lieutenants in charge of the various districts.
And while her men fought and bled and died in her name, she was stuck here, maimed and useless. Nobody was more aware of this humiliation than she was. After this tragedy, would they still follow her? She couldn't blame them if they didn't want to. It made her blood simmer just dwelling on the thought.
Wait, she reminded herself. Not everybody from her inner circle was dead.
There was still him.
The betrayer.
The Patriarch.
Her teeth clenched just from the thought of that old bastard looming smugly over her. She should have killed him when she had the chance, but she wanted to make an example out of him. Had she known back then that that one decision would have had such dire consequences then maybe…?
She sneered; hindsight was always 20:20, it was the here and now that was most important. It was a mistake on her part to let him live that night, one she was more than willing to correct.
Killing him won't undo everything that's happened or revive all the people that had been killed because of it. But damn would she feel better afterwards.
At least that's what she hoped for, anyway.
But in order to do that, she had to get better first. Looking down at her mauled hand, getting better was easier said than done. Any rational person would realize that she can't possibly go back into the field with the injuries she had suffered. Walking was one thing, but only being able to use one hand?
Grimacing with effort, she sat up on the cot and looked at her left hand.
No matter how she tried to deny it, Mordin was right. Her left hand wasn't going to heal up anymore. It was dead and the longer it stayed connected to her, the more damage it will do. The analgesics she was given only just barely dulled the excruciating pain that radiated from it. It was useless to her, but most of all it was in the way of her vengeance.
There was no other way around it; her left hand had to go.
"Doctor… Chakwas, wasn't it?" she suddenly spoke up, catching the attention of the Normandy's medical officer that was sitting down in front of a nearby terminal, looking like she was trying to fight off sleep in a losing battle.
"Ah?" Dr. Chakwas replied sleepily, rubbing the drowsiness from her eyes. Aria was quick to be insulted by such half-witted responses, but the human doctor did spend the majority of the last few hours treating dozens of critical injuries, hers included, so she decided to let it slide. "Oh, I'm sorry, is there anything the matter, madame T'Loak?"
Madame T'Loak? That was a first, Aria chuckled inwardly. If anything, at least she was respectful. "Call me Aria, please." She said out loud, doing her best to not let the pain show through her voice. "I have made a decision regarding my condition."
"Yes?" The doctor said expectantly.
Aria felt like she was almost forcing herself to utter the next few words. "I… accept Mordin's diagnosis. I am willing to undergo the amputation." Damn it. There. She said it out loud. There was no turning back now.
"Yes, of course." Chakwas replied curtly, ignorant of Aria's inner battle of wills, heaving a subtle sigh of relief as she got back on her terminal. "It's good that you finally agreed. We can begin the procedure within the hour. The sooner we can operate on you, the better."
"One thing, though." Aria said, her voice lowering to a near whisper, her eyes unable to meet the doctor's. She sighed, reluctantly continuing her line of thought. "I'm… uncomfortable with scalpels."
"Don't worry, we can have you sedated." Dr. Chakwas said assuringly. "You won't feel a thing."
"Well, about that…" Aria replied, her resolve slowly shaking. "I also have a problem about being… sedated."
It was true. It wasn't necessarily the surgery that she feared but the situation itself. It was one of her darker and more shameful secrets, but Aria T'Loak was afraid of being subjected to situations that did not leave her in control and left her vulnerable to the mercy of others. There was something about being so helpless that did not sit well with her. It all went back to when she was barely a century old, when her mother was killed and she was…
She was…
She stopped herself before the trauma could take hold. What Miller did to her brought up old scars that Aria thought she had left behind her. She made him pay for that. Never again, she told herself. Never again will she be dominated by anybody.
She was truly dredging through the shores of humiliation at this point, revealing a hint of this phobia to a doctor that was barely past a tenth of her age. The only thing that was holding her resolve was that her thirst for vengeance far overpowered the demon of fear. When she finally got the nerve to make eye contact with Dr. Chakwas, she looked for any kind of reaction of amusement in the doctor's eyes, but thankfully she found none.
"I understand." Dr. Chakwas said, making nothing of it much to Aria's relief. "We can use a local anesthetic for the procedure, but there will be a level pain that we cannot do anything about."
"Pain is good, it means I'm alive." Aria said, wincing as a particularly strong pang of pain radiated from her ailing hand. "It doesn't mean I want a constant reminder of it, though." She clenched her teeth, wrestling with the sea of primal emotions inside of her.
Rage.
Fear.
Both sides were fighting fiercely for domination of her actions. Rage was winning out at first, but then fear had somehow evened up the odds. But slowly and surely, her fear was turning into terror, and terror was quickly breaking her resolve.
She… She couldn't go through with it.
She was just a girl again, powerless, helpless…
She hated the feeling.
She… She was about to lose it.
She needed to act now, while her resolve was still steady and before she succumbed to a nervous breakdown.
Aria T'Loak was strong and indomitable; and that image needed to be kept.
"Tell me something, doc." She said suddenly, grasping her left wrist with her good hand. "How good are you in emergency situations?"
"Being on a military vessel my whole life has left me very capable in life or death situations." Dr. Chakwas replied confidently. "Why do you ask?"
Aria's right hand glowed with biotic energy, tightening her grip on her left wrist. "Time to see if there's merit to those words, doc. I'm an AB negative, by the way."
A look of realization suddenly crossed onto Dr. Chakwas' face as she stood up to try and stop Aria, but it was too late. There was a flash of blue energy followed by the crimson splatter of blood.
Aria did not scream as blood gushed from the stump of her wrist where she had cut her own hand off. The pain struck her like lightning, but she did not scream as the severed limb dropped lifelessly to the floor in a growing puddle of her own blood. She did not scream even as Chakwas rushed to her side, hastily trying to put pressure on her wound to stop her from bleeding out. She did not scream as more people came rushing to her side, stifling panic in order to perform a delicate emergency procedure. Fear had gripped her, far surpassing her rage that locked her in this semi-catatonic state, aware but detached from reality.
It was true, Aria T'Loak was afraid.
But she was not afraid of her fears, no, not anymore.
She was afraid for her enemies.
Because if she could do this to herself for the sake of vengeance, what violence was she willing to inflict against her enemies to satisfy her lust for it?
The Patriarch will die, along with everybody else that had had a hand in orchestrating this betrayal. They will die a slow and painful death, drawn out for as long as she could muster. She would make them suffer until death would seem like the greatest mercy there was in the galaxy.
And when she grants them that mercy, with the tears of gratitude welling in their eyes as they looked down the barrel of her gun, she would pull the trigger and the Galaxy would be reminded of something.
Don't fuck with Aria.
Unlike the medbay which was currently teeming with chaos, the tech lab was a place of order. But somehow, it still managed to hustle with the same air of activity as it did the former. That was par for the course when Professor Mordin Solus was working there. The scientist salarian was busy running diagnostics through several machines, working on many lines of thought at once.
"No, no, can't be right. Too clean. Much too clean." He mused to himself as he readjusted the parameters of the gene scan on the console. "Highly unlikely but must have overlooked something. No other explanation." He concluded, much to his annoyance. "Beginning new diagnostic scan, scrapping previous results."
The Eclipse attack had given Mordin plenty of new experiences, but the one that takes the highlight was encountering the asari known as Melina Sorris. As far as asari went, she was certainly a powerful biotic and capable commando, but that was not what caught Mordin's attention. The woman had displayed incredible regenerative capabilities, bringing her back from the brink of death on numerous occasions during the battle. She also underwent a drastic mutation into some kind of nightmarish horror that he had never encountered before in all his years of study in the field of xenobiology. And by Shepard's accounts, the commander of the Eclipse also demonstrated the same abilities but on a more advanced scale. To say that he was intrigued was an understatement.
Right now however, Mordin was more perplexed than anything as the new test results came in. These results just didn't make any sense to him. "Results of gene scan inconclusive. Curious…"
What was the cause of this phenomenon? Was this limited to the encountered asari or was it more widespread among the ranks of the Eclipse? Or did it go even beyond that into a larger scale than Mordin had originally anticipated? These were the questions that he was eager to find an answer to.
It was unfortunate that he could not get his hands on Melina's body for further study, but he was able to get ahold of the next best thing. On a nearby table lay the asari corpse that he had acquired from the shipyard, one of Melina's subordinates. Her torso was sliced open and pulled apart from the autopsy that he had just conducted. He hummed a wordless tune to himself as he went over his results for a third time, looking for any discrepancy from the norm which he may have missed.
"Curious… curious…" Mordin murmured to himself, unsatisfied by the results. "Mordin Solus, Log 3327-4." He said out loud, recording his voice on his omnitool. "Subject reveals normal asari anatomy upon dissection. No signs of cellular mutation or traces of foreign substances detected in tissue. No signs of tech augmentations or gene modifications. Subject is by all accounts clean. Express doubts in results, may redo all tests."
Mordin wasn't one to get frustrated easily, but he was missing something. Something very crucial and obvious that was mocking him right in his face. He was certain that this body held the answers he was looking for, but the asari had been in perfect health when she died, clean of any mods that may have been able to reproduce any of Melina's abilities. The other asari in Melina's Luna Eclipse may not have been on their leader's level, but they still displayed enhanced capabilities. His brow furrowed as he rubbed his chin in deep thought.
"Hmmm, may be looking too hard in wrong direction. Change in perspective may help." He said to himself, inspecting the corpse carefully. "Tech augmentations unlikely… A drug? One whose half-life accelerates upon the user's death to leave no trace? No. No, can't be drugs. Biotic enhancement drugs cause damage to user's tissue. Subject's tissues in perfect condition. Drugs would always leave traces, miniscule in amount, but detectable. Also does not explain mutations."
He activated his omnitool and brought up the previous results of all the tests in front of him in a mess of holographic interfaces that only he could decipher.
"Mutations more likely caused by genetic augmentations, but do not explain rapid production of cellular mass to accommodate the scale of transformation." He rubbed his chin again as he reviewed the results. "Such transformation would require massive amounts of energy and cellular turnover. Metabolic strain alone would be fatal!"
Loathe as he was to admit it, maybe what he was looking for could not be found in this corpse. "Impossible." He said to himself, shaking off his doubts. "Must be some clue, some trace of that ability somewhere in this woman's body." He just needed to know what to look for. A smirk crossed his wrinkled face. He couldn't remember the last time he had such an engaging challenge. The prospect excited him.
As he stood there and pondered the mystery of the corpse, his train of thought was interrupted when EDI's holographic avatar came to life on her terminal and addressed. "Dr. Solus, Dr. Chakwas is requesting your presence in the medbay. The situation is urgent."
"On my way." He said taking a step back from the operation table, a slight tinge of regret at being torn from his work, but duty called to him. Waving his hand over the table, a stasis field activated and wrapped the body. No point in taking risks. "Brief me on the situation, EDI." He said as he exited the tech lab, hurrying for the elevator on his way to the medbay.
The tech lab was left quiet save for the constant beeping of equipment. Had Mordin stayed for a half second longer, maybe he would've caught the slight twitch the corpse's eye lids made, even under the thrall of the stasis field.
The Eclipse base, in the heart of Omega's commercial district.
The station was still rife with gunfire and battle cries, but here, in the base's inner sanctum, there was sanctuary. The Eclipse were licking their wounds, riled by the losses they suffered against the crew of the Normandy. Never in the entire history of the Omega chapter had casualties piled up so quick. And while her officer's worked their way through the logistical nightmare, the Eclipse commander was indulging in pleasure.
Tarrana Ionet lounged in her luxurious private quarters, sitting quite comfortably on her throne like chair, a sly smirk of satisfaction on her beautiful face. "Entertain your lady, girls…" she whispered huskily. "Feed me…."
Asides from her, the massive room was filled by a dozen asari, their bare skin slick and gleaming with exotic oils, their squirming bodies lost in the throes of passion and ecstasy as they serenaded the lady of the Eclipse by their moans of pleasure. Tarrana took it all in as the orgy breathed a life of its own, each girl hand-picked for their skill and beauty.
This was what she lived for.
This decadence that made her blood burn with lust.
It confused her at first, when she was reborn as a daughter to the Father. In her old life, such acts were sacred, and the thought of doing it with just anybody appalled her. But soon, she came to accept that this too was part of her Aspect of the Father. Pleasure was the drive for most of creation's basic instincts and one of Father's greatest gifts. She could feed on it, like lapping into a pool of honey, so rich and sweet. It invigorated her and made her heart pound as the energy filled her.
This was her Aspect, Scorpio Nights, the aspect of pleasure and the search for pleasure.
One of the girls approached her, looking heady and confused, her face flushed with a tinge of a blush while her hands tried desperately to cover her exposed body. "My lady… My body feels… This isn't right." the girl urged herself to say. "What is happening to me?"
"Ahhh, you must be one of the new girls…" Tarrana grabbed her, pulling the girl gently onto her lap and giving her a deep and sensual kiss. "Shhh, don't fight it, little one…" she whispered in between bouts of kissing. Her hand ventured between the girls legs and towards her nether regions, plunging two fingers into the girl's womanhood and causing her to squeal in surprise and pleasure. "I can make you feel wonderful." she said, looking at the girl with sultry eyes.
"My lady...!" The girl tried to protest, "This is… we shouldn't!"
Instead of replying, Tarrana brought her head down to suckle on one of the girl's heaving breasts, at the same time quickening the pace of her thrusts. The girl just gasped a sharp breath of air as Tarrana ravaged her. Tarrana smiled as she watched her effect on the girl, before releasing her nipple from her lips and giggled. "Do you love me, child?" Tarrana finally spoke, catching the girl off guard.
"I… ah… I do, my lady!" the girl managed to say despite Tarrana's ministrations, bucking her hips against her hand. "I… I love you!"
"Of course you do, dear." Tarrana whispered into the girl's ear, giving it a slow lick. Her eyes glowed purple as the girl breathed in unseen pheromones. "Yes, you girls are very, very dear to me… I don't know how I'll be able to go on without you…"
"My lady…" the girl whimpered, squirming on her lap.
"I'll let you in on a little secret…" she whispered conspiratorially, plunging her fingers in and out of the girl. "Right now, one of your sisters has been taken by the enemy. They think she's dead, but I can feel the lingering embers of her life the same way I can feel your soft, tight insides. She may have failed me, but she has one more chance to make me proud…" she said. "I've touched her, much like how I'm touching you, and gave her a special gift. Would you like to receive my gift, dear?"
"Yes…! Yes…!" The girl panted, nearing her climax.
"So eager… Everyone is always so eager when I offer them my gifts…" Tarrana giggled. She started thrusting harder and deeper into the girl, who started to convulse on her hips, lost in the throes of a monstrous orgasm. "Oh my, so soon? I don't blame you though… Nobody lasts long against me. Now… are you ready to receive my gift?"
The girl just nodded weakly, eyes glazed over as she nuzzled into Tarrana's embrace.
"Good girl…" Tarrana said, raising the hand she had used to pleasure the girl towards the girl's mouth.
Out of instinct, the girl took the two fingers into her mouth and started sucking eagerly; lapping at her own juices that coated Tarrana's hand.
Tarrana's eyes glowed purple, her voice turning from sensuous into sinister. "Now… Bite." At her command, the girl's teeth started to sink into the flesh of Tarrana's fingers, blood dribbling down her plump lips. Tarrana cooed in pleasure as the girl bit down harder, teeth crunching against bone. "Yes… Harder… Harder…" With a snap, her two fingers were bit off of her hand and into the girl's mouth. "Swallow." She commanded. The wounds had already started to catch fire and her two lost fingers regenerated back, as if nothing had happened to her hand.
The girl grunted with effort, but she managed to swallow Tarrana's fingers. She felt the two digits slither down her throat, squirming its way to her stomach. "That was… amazing…" she managed to say, drunk from her orgasm, completely oblivious of what she had just consumed.
"Now we will always be together no matter how far apart we are, love." She cooed, brushing her lips against the girl's, licking her own blood off of hers. "We are now one… Just like all of your sisters here…" The girl suddenly felt a pulse of energy go through her body and threw her head back, eyes erupting into bright purple lights. Tarrana smiled coyly. "Welcome to the Luna Eclipse."
"I… serve at the pleasure of my lady." The girl replied weakly.
"Yes… that you do…" Tarrana whispered, an evil grin settling on her lips. The girl had slipped off of her lap, falling down to her knees in front of Tarrana. Her head was going between her legs and Tarrana bit her lip as the girl began praising her lady.
Her body was focused on the pleasure, but Tarrana's mind was thinking of her one agent, the last of the old Luna Eclipse who was currently aboard the Normandy. She did not have Zsasz's telepathy, but she could feel her wayward daughter, her life force slowly gathering energy for what was to come. The seed was planted deep into enemy territory, all by chance and good fortune of course. But no matter the outcome, all of it was to her benefit. The Normandy would be hers, one way or the other. "Make me proud, darling…" She whispered sinisterly.
Meanwhile, on the near opposite side of Omega, in the Blue Suns HQ.
The base was unusually quiet, left with only a single detachment as garrison while the majority of the Blue Suns' forces were scattered about the space station, engaging in battles against the remnants of Aria's loyalist forces. The Suns comprised roughly half of the Mercenary Coalition that Cerberus had hired to rise up in revolt against Aria T'Loak, drawing in members from every chapter in the galaxy with more still coming each day. The Commander-in-chief himself, Vido Santiago, was en route, bringing with him his personal company of elite soldiers to join the fray. This was by far the largest operation that the mercenary group has undertaken, netting billions of credits in expenses alone. But the paycheck that Cerberus had offered far outweighed any expense from operations. With that money, the Suns could become its own galactic entity. Whatever they accomplished here would go down in history for centuries to come, and the various commanders were dead set on making that a story of victory rather than defeat.
Suddenly, the dullness was broken with the thunderous whine of turbine engines from over a dozen gunships coming in from every direction in the distance. Crewmen started hustling to the landing pads with their glow sticks as they guided the gunships in for landing. Kicking up debris as they approached the ground, the gunships started to land one after another, discharging their load of passengers.
Each ship carried about six people, all decked out with flashiest armor and the best weapons money could buy through the black market. These were the commanders of the Blue Suns, fresh from the frontlines and each bringing with them their own personal retinue of body guards.
Commander Wallace from the Demeter chapter rolled his neck as he hopped off the gunship, followed by his men, brandishing their weapons vigilantly even among allies. "Bloody hell, it looks like they really did call back everybody from the front." He said, looking around at the number of gunships surrounding theirs and nodding at familiar faces. "Hold on, there's that bastard, Jerta…. Oi! Jerta!" He yelled over the din of the engines, just barely winning over as a batarian commander turned his head to meet his gaze.
"Wallace! You son of a bitch!" Commander Jerta said with a wry grin as he approached Wallace and clasped his hand in a firm handshake. "How's the front over at the Deshavik district?"
"Like smoking out a bunch of rodents!" Wallace said with amusement. "Urban operations always end up as a war of attrition. Hadn't seen this much action in years! You?"
"Tell me about it, almost got nailed by some sniper fire this morning. I had the building the shooter was in shelled, civilian bystanders be damned." Jerta replied with a chuckle. He looked around at the congregation of other commanders. "So, any idea why Santiago called all of us back so urgently? Man isn't due here 'til a couple more days."
"Haven't a clue, they just said that this came right down from Santiago himself." Wallace shrugged, "Said that he was going to brief us about some important change of plans or something or other."
"So long as we still get paid, am I right?"
"Damn right you are, pal. Come on, the others are moving, let's go." Wallace said. "The sooner we're done here, the sooner I can get back to the front with my men."
The group of commanders started to file into the base, jeering with old comrades as they made their way towards the command center for the briefing. This was a sight to see really; this was one of the few times that so much of them were congregated under one roof so frequently other than the Blue Suns annual summit every couple of years or so. This war was turning out to be quite the occasion.
Leaving their body guards in the hallways, the commanders stood in attention around a large holo platform. They were hardly a military organization in terms of discipline, but Vido Santiago was always given his due respect, mostly for being able to wrangle all the clashing egos among them under some semblance of control. The holo platform flickered to life, but the figure standing in the middle was most certainly not commander Vido Santiago. The grinning visor shined in the darkness, earning a round of indignation and surprise from those gathered. The man in the hologram just stood there nonchalantly as the commanders broke into curses and demands.
As the commotion died down, a turian commander crossed his arms, a look of annoyance in his face. "The hell is this?" he said, stepping up to the platform. "Miller? Last I heard you were little more than a vegetable."
The man in the hologram chuckled, speaking for the first time. "I got better."
"Damn shame." The turian replied. Commander Lucas Miller wasn't exactly held in high regard among the commanders, considering him a savage even by their thuggish standards. Even if Omega was Miller's territory, it did little to inspire any form of respect from the men and women gathered.
Wallace spoke up next, a look of disgust on his face as if talking to the man left a bad taste in his mouth. "I better not have left the front just for this pointless charade…" He said flatly. "Tell me you didn't just use Santiago's name to arrange this little meeting."
"Yeah!" Jerta chimed in. "What do you want, Miller?"
"I want a lot of things." Miller said, looking around at all of them. "Money, power, women… The simple things in life, really… But there is one thing that I don't want." The man in the hologram produced a small device in his hands. "Sharing. Goodbye, comrades." When the commanders registered the danger, it was already too late. Miller pushed the button on the device, and the base shook with a series of thunderous explosions that ripped right through it, tearing through flesh and steel with white hot force.
Miller watched from a distance in the safety of his own gunship as his base erupted into a huge ball of fire, sending debris scattering for miles around as he braced against the shockwave of the explosion. The stronghold was a small price to pay in exchange for killing all his targets in one fell swoop. "Eh, should have savored the moment longer." He said with a shrug, tossing the detonator aside. "Not like they could have out ran it."
Beside him stood an imposing krogan, impressed by the human's pragmatic cruelty. "And risk having them inform their men? No, this was the best scenario." The Patriarch rumbled, watching as the pillar of fire blazed from where the Blue suns HQ used to stand. "Now you're the highest ranking Blue Suns officer in Omega. Congratulations Miller, now the Blue Suns are yours to command."
"Up until Santiago gets here, anyway." Miller said.
"Plenty of time to accomplish our goals until then." The Patriarch dismissed.
"Your goals, you mean. I'm just along for the ride so long as you keep your end of the bargain."
"Spoken like a true soldier of fortune. Now, make the call."
Miller took a moment longer to savor the fiery explosion before patching in through the Blue Suns universal communications feed. He breathed in, getting into character and wiping off the smirk on his face lest it transfer to his voice. "Attention all units, this is Commander Lucas Miller of the Omega chapter! HQ has been attacked! I repeat, HQ has been attacked! Requesting immediate back up!"
The Patriarch smirked as he stood up and walked to the back of the gunship, slinging a rocket launcher over his shoulders. The comm crackled with multiple incoming transmissions, and Miller chose the one from the closest group.
"This is Lt. Corre, my team can be there in half an hour, what's the situation commander?"
"Shit! One of them has got a lock on me!" Miller said convincingly as he watched the Patriarch aim the rocket towards the far side of the cabin. "We need backup, quick!"
With a pull of the trigger, the rocket blasted with extreme prejudice, slamming into the rear of the cabin and erupting into a thunderous explosion. The Patriarch stood his ground as debris embedded into his flesh and flames licked his hide.
"I'm hit! Mayday, mayday! I'm going down!" He said as the gunship plummeted to the ground.
"Commander?!" Corre's voice said through the crackling comm.
Hook, line and sinker, Miller thought as they slammed into the ground violently. The best way to absolve him of any suspicion was to make the 'attack' look as real as he could. With a jagged piece of steel impaling his gut and the flames of the slowly burning wreckage engulfing the gunship, he concluded that this was real enough for anybody.
By this time tommorow, he'd be supreme commander of the entire operation. He'd deal with Santiago when that time came.
It was dark…
Sounds were muffled and his sense of touch felt numb, as if he had stepped into a black abyss, deprived of any form of sensation. Was this how it was like when he was dead, he wondered? It was so peaceful, serene. It made death look less macabre and more rewarding. It was a grim thought, one he usually didn't have.
His eyes were suddenly treated to a bright flash of light. Raising his arms in front of him to shield him from the glare, the light grew brighter, enveloping the area in a white haze.
When his eyes adjusted to the brightness, his other senses had come flooding back, but it was the smell that took him. The abyss was no more, and he found himself standing atop a mountain of corpses. Some were human marines, but most were batarian. Their dead faces were contorted into a look of pain and terror. Countless eyes stared back at him, begging for mercy, begging for a chance to live. He felt his stomach turn and his knees weaken, but he managed to keep his composure.
He was young, foolish… angry; all poor excuses trying to justify what he did on Torfan. They called him the butcher for his violent accomplishments on that planet.
The corpses were suddenly moving. Hundreds of hands dragging him down, deeper into the heart of the corpse pile. He laughed, a low and mirthful sound, laced with desperation rather than joy. This was hell, and for all the good that he has done in his life, he deserved to be here. He deserved to suffer for his sins.
There was a loud metallic shriek that echoed around them, and he felt his head suddenly swim with cryptic, muffled voices. As he was slowly being buried underneath the stinking, rotten bodies, a hand suddenly grabbed him by his neck from the surface, violently pulling him from the corpses' grasps and back out into the light.
He clawed at the hand and fought to keep breathing as it clutched tight around his throat. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the sinister gaze of a turian that had haunted his nightmares before.
Shepard bolted awake, panting and covered in sweat, immediately regretting the sudden motion as his injuries caused his body to ache. His throat felt dry, and his breathing started to normalize, so did the pace of his heartbeat.
He took a deep breath and checked his surroundings, finding himself in a crowded medbay that was bustling with activity. During the time he was unconscious, somebody took the liberty of stripping him of his armor and leaving him with just his pants on, much to his relief. His eyes moved to the clock on the wall, and it showed that the eight hours that Dr, Chakwas had bargained him for was nearly up anyway.
Speaking of which, the good doctor was busy fussing around Aria's bed, along with Mordin and several of Liara's, er… the Shadow Broker's medics. They obscured what they were doing to her, but Shepard knew enough that curiosity need not apply especially since he had no medical background to speak of past first aid that would contribute to their efforts. Bothering them might just do more harm or worse.
Running his hands through his hair, Shepard let out another deep breath, taking care to keep as quiet as possible as he got off the bed. It was a nightmare, he told himself as he slid off the bed and steadily found his footing. It was just a nightmare, nothing more. He'd been having nightmares recently, though he hadn't had that particular sort of nightmare in a good long while. The part near the end of it was new, too. All this stress and bullet wounds were probably starting to get to him he thought, chuckling to himself.
The past was done and dealt with whether he liked it or not. It was the here and now that mattered. And here and now was currently in Omega, where something terrible was lurking underneath the guise of this civil war.
There was time to figure things out later he thought as he slipped quietly past the working doctors and out of the medbay.
Right now, there was work to be done.
Saren's eyes opened from his deep slumber, getting up off of the bunk he had claimed and ran a hand through his hair. The nightmares were one thing, but at least he didn't need to deal with voices in his head anymore. He was reluctant to fall asleep in the company of Silence and Zsasz, but exhaustion got the better of him. It was a relief to see that neither one of them was looming over him, especially Silence. He was certain she was trying to make his skin crawl on purpose.
Still, the nightmare had disturbed him, not because of the imagery itself but because of the context. Seems as if he didn't just inherit Shepard's memories but his demons as well. This sense of guilt that had welled up in him for a moment was not of his own doing, although he was one to talk if he compared some of his more atrocious accomplishments to that of Shepard's.
These incidents weren't going so far as influencing who he was, but Saren still didn't like the implications. He laid back and took a deep breath, cracking his knuckles as he did so. Whatever it was that was happening to him, they would be in Omega's vicinity in just over 24 hours. It would be interesting, to say the least.