Mycerra wiped away the debris and struggled to her feet as the last of the husks evaporated into debris particles.
"You just saw that, right?" She demanded of the aliens surrounding her.
"I saw that." A bleeding turian confirmed for her.
She inhaled acrid smoke and coughed violently. Heaving up the meager scraps of a half ration onto the cracked pavement spouting water freely into the sky, the droplets cascaded back down in cleansing coldness. Wiping her mouth with her hand, she sat under the spray. Grime and dirt ran off her skin and clothing onto the pavement pooling in the pitted, broken areas.
A ringing in her ear gradually subsided.
One by one, the turians, asari, salarian and two surviving human biotics joined her.
She reached for the closest hand instinctively, finding the salarian's hand, and squeezing it. The tears mixed in with city water, grime and blood sliding away bit by bit to reveal baby fresh flesh beneath.
"It's over." Someone said in immense relief. "Please let it be over."
"It's not over until the fat lady sings." Balencia, former drug lord uprooted by the reapers, said matter of factly. "Damned reapers destroyed all my best cigars."
Mycerra started to laugh, her chest aching. The salarian joined her, the turians mystified.
The asari cleared her throat. "That reminds me of the bottle of wine on my ship I had been planning to save for when the war was over. Guess that's too late now."
"Don't worry. We'll find you a bottle." Balencia promised flippantly.
Mycerra looked across the rag tag group, instinctively counting heads and taking in account the present state of armor and weaponry. She leaned on the salarian's shoulder and the salarian leaned on her. Closing her eyes, she listened to the explosion in the distance as the reaper touched down and toppled a skyscraper.
"We did it." One of the turians whispered to her right. "By the spirits, we're still alive."
"Yes." Mycerra opened her eyes and took in the night sky for the first time knowing the reapers were dead. "How impolite of me. Mycerra Colton." She held out her fist to the turian.
The introductions began, going around the circle, the salarian introducing himself last.
"We should probably see if the caves survived intact. The kids are there." She said to Balencia and Mathers. "We promised we'd return for them. Have to keep our word- "
Her back streaked in pain when she tried to stand. Reluctantly sitting back down, she breathed through it. Her head throbbed, her bio amp likely damaged or nearly damaged. Shoving off the ground, she blinked away the water as it cascaded down her cheeks. The asari, Vasa R'ila, helped Balencia to her feet. One by one, the turians followed Mathers, last to rise with great protests as he babied his arm.
"Is it broken?" Balencia poked maliciously.
Mathers glared at the woman. "I can handle it myself. Just need some soap, water, medigel, and clean bandages."
"Good luck finding all that in this." Balencia needled and laughed.
Mycerra left them in her wake, dragging herself forward and over the scattered debris. She picked her way through gingerly, picking up a pistol as she went. She handed over weapons as she found them, retrieving dog tags from a badly beaten body. Everything hurt. Her feet throbbed. Her head throbbed. She barely grasped with her right hand. They moved as a unit in silence, 22 people 'strong', through the obliterated city toward the historic caves the biotic group hid the last encountered survivors before the final battle at Bullock Square.
What had been an hour detour before the destruction of the Prya Apartment building turned into a two hour detour through settling dust, absolute mayhem and oddly perfectly preserved areas contrasted sharply with total destruction butted against it.
"Mathers, you sling that up yet?" Mycerra finally demanded as they stopped at an old bathroom exposed to the ground level street littered with the remains of vehicles and dead defenders.
"I think we can take a quick break. Passed up some linens in the other room- "
She nodded and gave everyone the signal to take a rest, drink water, and try to find something to eat if they were feeling up to it. Balencia rooted through a wardrobe and tossed the clothes aside carelessly. The asari scooped up the cloth, tossing it in a pack. "Fresh clean bandages." She pointed out.
Mycerra retrieved the dog tags of the dead defenders on the street before returning to the group. She slid down the wall, took off her boots, socks, and let her bare feet air out.
"Once you start that, it's all over." Calun Dravis, the salarian, said.
"Feel free to join me. The air feels good." She replied breathily. "No more bombs, weird moans and groans, and screeching. Just silence."
"Don't become too comfortable. Don't know what's out there." General Titus Deltano said from the 'front door', an exposed gap messily 'sawed' open from a previous explosion.
She looked up at him. "Hey, Spikes, have a seat. We're all beaten and bruised. You don't need to put on the bravado for us. It's okay to need a rest." She flashed him the 'okay' gesture.
"No." He insisted. "I'll guard the front." He jerked his rifle toward the 'front door'.
"No one goes anywhere alone." Mycerra ordered without thought.
The general raised a hand, and in an instant, three flanked him.
Mycerra wished she had that kind of cooperation.
The salarian, Calun Dravis, joined her on the floor. "Turians have best military in Citadel Fleet."
"Good." She observed the four turians working seamlessly. "Maybe the turians can provide rations for their people then. And you. I don't think we have compatible biology."
"We do not." He confirmed quietly.
"Horns- "
"Dravis." The salarian corrected.
She grabbed his hand again and quickly kissed it before letting it go. "Your aim is impeccable. I owe you one."
"Will hold you to that." Dravis blinked before smiling. "Head okay?" He touched her head with one fingertip.
"Had better days." She laughed again and coughed. "Ow."
He put his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. She fell into the embrace. In a familiar wash of relief, Calun Dravis appreciated the moment as it was. His impeccable memory imprinted the details before burying it away under an emerging list of responsibilities.
"Look at that. Too bad my omni tool was damaged." Balencia invaded the comforting moment.
Mycerra reluctantly extricated herself and Calun Dravis noticed the fresh blood on his fingertips.
"Mathers is strung up for now. We can address it further when we make contact again."
"I think my omni tool isn't broken." Mycerra activated hers, receiving only static when she radioed the local world through the still standing archaic towers. "Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there? This is Mycerra Colton. We're 22 people…by the Prya Apartments. Need help. Supplies. Minor injuries. Is anyone out there?"
Static answered her.
"We'll keep trying." Mathers appeared behind Balencia, his new sling already stained. "I'll check the other channels. Someone has to be alive."
Desperation crept into his voice and into the souls of everyone there.
Dravis helped Mycerra with her socks and shoes before pulling her to her feet again. They resumed the trek toward the historic caves. The mountains shot above the city the closer to the edge of the northern limit they reached. With slight charring along the eastern side of the range, it appeared to survive the assault relatively unscathed. Burned foliage matted the ground, a sidewalk unveiled beneath after light investigation.
"Right there." Mathers pointed out.
In the darkness, the contrasting dim light of the kinetic shields exposed a once roped off entrance. A lone teenage boy sat off to the side in the entrance, tossing an earth themed stress ball hand to hand.
"Wei!" Mycerra shouted.
Several turians glared at her. She flipped them off and hobbled forward with renewed interest.
The teenager stopped tossing the stress ball and disabled the kinetic barrier. "You're alive."
"Teenagers. Never happy." Mathers almost smiled.
Balencia caught her breath. "Reminds me of you, Mathers."
The pair bickered lightly back and forth with one another.
Emboldened by the peaceful silence, she caught the teenager in brief embrace. "I told you the reapers couldn't kill me. I meant it." She whispered.
"We did it." Mathers abandoned bickering with his boss in favor of meeting up with the pair.
"No." A moment of clarity briefly quelled the shaking. She clenched her hands. "We didn't. Not until we can house, feed, and protect each other. We rest tonight. Tomorrow, we need to establish camp and find food and fresh water."
Wei pulled away from Mycerra. "Yu tried the radio all day. No one answered."
"Keep trying." She pat him on the back. "Wei, we have aliens with us. Don't be afraid of them. Could you please show them around the caves?"
"Seen them before." Wei assured her.
She smiled. "Be nice. They crash landed. The spiky ones, turians. The one with tendrils for hair is an asari. The other is a salarian."
Wei nodded and motioned to the tactically interspersed turians, asari, and salarian to enter. Mycerra lingered at the entrance until everyone passed through. The turians turned to their commanding officer once safely inside. They spoke in a tongue her translator roughly translated. She turned the translator off, activated the kinetic barrier, and sunk to the ground. Salarian and asari language mingled with turian to create a strangely soothing backdrop to the silence once desired now feared.
She flexed her injured hand, gripping impossible. She tried to pass the M-12 Locust from hand to hand. Turning her translator on at the salarian's greeting, she offered a smile.
All her military training and biotic training flew out the window in favor of panic, fear, and desperation. She visually clocked Mathers, Balencia and the asari making contact with the five year old girl that saved her a week prior.
"Children and elderly are unharmed." He confirmed for her.
She faced forward, everything in a mental haze.
"Will visit crash site for rations after."
Galaxy ran past Vasa, Mathers, and Balencia. "Cerra!"
She put the submachine gun flat on the ground next to her and held open her arms to the little red head. The child crawled into her lap and clung to her. She eyed up Calun Dravis with open curiosity.
"Dravis, this is Galaxy, Galaxy, Dravis." Mycerra teared up, her thoughts wandering to tomorrow and the day after that. When this war started, she estimated her survival to be a week tops. Years of training preserved and sustained the lifeline to present. "I didn't find your parents- "
"It's okay." The girl insisted.
"I'm sorry, Galaxy."
"It's okay." She parroted. "It's going to be okay."
Mycerra hugged her. "I'm sorry."
Two turians posted at the entrance. "Ma'am, if you move deeper inside the cavern system, you'll be safer."
Her head turned at the title. "Do I look that old?"
"Just being polite, Ma'am."
Mycerra caught her breath. "Galaxy, Sweets, lead Dravis further inside. I need a moment." She waited until Galaxy lead Dravis by the hand to the center of the caves. She tried once more to hold the submachine gun, her trigger finger failing to bend far enough to pressure the trigger. The turians pretended to not see her struggle and she pretended it didn't matter. She offered it up to them. "Since my hand is lame."
"Don't know what you mean, Ma'am."
"Just take it. I have my biotics regardless." She pressed.
They exchanged looks. "You're an ambidextrous shooter, Ma'am."
Her eyes narrowed on both of them. "As you wish." She carried it in her left hand
The curved path led to a large chamber with a noticeably missing chunk in the ceiling, now a center piece acting as a table. The elderly pair tucked in a corner with blankets, one awake one asleep.
"We're here until we make contact with our survivors." General Deltano approached Mycerra. "What do you need?"
Mycerra's world spun proverbially as she scanned the group size and how they crammed into the space uncomfortably. A headcount totaled thirty-eight individuals total crammed into the cavern system spread out as thinly as possible. At current capacity, she worried about the safety hazards. Small groups huddled together in groups no larger than five and no smaller than two. Mycerra's heart broke at the defensive maneuvering in effect.
From the outside she appeared calm and centered.
Shock wore down and the current situation rooted like weeds in a curated garden.
She placed her hand on his arm to root herself mentally and looked upward at his stiff bony face. "We need food and water. Mathers and other injured will need their wounds looked after to avoid infection. The weakest are the elderly, and the highest priority are the children. They are the future now."
"We can stay here." The general stated confidently.
"I want to help find food. I know the streets." Galaxy volunteered. She popped up between them silent as an assassin.
"No. You're five." The general denied.
"So?" Galaxy crossed her arms.
"If she knows where to find food, she can come with us." Mycerra decided for them. "I will ensure that a base plan is established. Everyone will establish a channel of communication on- "She turned on her omni-tool and picked a channel throwing up static. "-this one. No one goes anywhere without a partner, three or four per group preferrable. Always have an adult with you."
The words leaving her mouth – in her voice – felt foreign and disembodied. She had to hand it to reapers. They managed to trivialize her boarding school experience spanning twelve years.
"General Deltano is in charge of reconnaissance and gathering of supplies. To include themselves." She let go of his arm. "Be safe, Sir. Come back safe, with or without supplies. We can go without food for a while, with consequences, but we need clean water after seven days. I don't know your standards. Safety over retrieval. Always another day."
"Until there are no more days. We'll return with supplies." Vasa, the asari commando, assured her. "Galaxy, right? Don't worry about anything. We'll protect you."
Galaxy held out her hand. "We have to be quick about it. Before the scavengers crawl out of their bunkers."
"Not many bunkers left." A turian muttered.
Mycerra saw them off at the entrance, held back by Dravis. "You're bleeding." He touched her shoulder and showed her his blood covered finger tips. "We can clean up the wound."
"Let's hope it's not infected." She mumbled, her shoulder now adding to head, feet, and chest.
Dravis stitched her up with the meager medical supplies they did have after sterilizing the injury with drinking alcohol. "Unusually well trained."
"As is your aim."
"All salarians dabble in military training at young age." He replied and tied the thread. "This will scar."
"Just another scar on the mountain of scars." She brushed off.
"Human husks easy to take down, not so easy in large numbers."
"Asari husks are worse. Think I saw turian husks too. And some really bloated four eyed ones in the beginning."
"Batarian. Mass Relay destroyed to slow Reaper Invasion."
Her heart sunk.
"Slavers and pirates. No reason to mourn their loss." Dravis whispered.
She placed a hand on his knee, understanding the tone immediately.
He wiped the stitched up wound one last time before telling her to rest against the wall in just her bra while he cleaned the shirt. She watched him dunk and scrub with the bar of soap stubbornly. "Hey, Horns- "
"Dravis."
"I'll be okay."
"There is no 'okay'."
"Dravis?" She looked him in the eye. "We'll find you rations, alright? Sit over here. Forget about the shirt."
He dragged the bucket with him.
"Are you the sole survivor of your family?" She favored her good shoulder, her injured shoulder temporarily distracting from the myriad of other problems.
"Think so. Don't know."
She nodded slowly. "I don't know about you, but you look human enough to call a brother."
He didn't look up. "Thank you."
"So, your aim. Military lifer?"
"Formerly."
"My parents were lifers until retirement. My sister joined at 18. I rebelled. Military boarding school and one hell of a biotic tutor who didn't believe in depriving the body of excellent peak conditioning."
"You sole survivor?"
"Sister was stationed on a dreadnought up there. I imagine Mars was hit first." She shrugged. She felt bare without a shirt, but no one said a word. Everyone gathered in their groups, the kids played dice, and snoring from the elderly added peaceful ambience. "Where's home, Dravis?"
"It was Sur'Kesh. I volunteered to escort the crucible to the Citadel. Our ship was blasted out of orbit and fell onto your planet."
"We'll get you back to Sur'Kesh." She promised.
He reached for her hand. "Offer appreciated but not needed."
"When you have nothing, you cling to what you do have. The promise of tomorrow makes today worth the struggle. Head up, horns to the sky. We'll get you back to Sur'Kesh." She stubbornly promised.
"Thank you, Colton."
"Any time, Dravis. What I'm here for. The pessimist masquerading as the optimist." She joked. In the back of her mind, she worried that faking it till they made might do more damage than good. Right now, however, earned the psychological strategy.
They smiled at each other, and both looked to the moon shining down on them through the exposed roof that would most certainly ruin what was left of the cave paintings.
Galaxy led the group of six through the ruins, climbing over and under obstacles like a monkey much to the concern of the commando and turians. She led them to a downed frigate with enough quarian rations to last two weeks if stretched thin before exposing a secret cache of weapons she collected from the dead weeks prior. They returned with the payload, supplies, and several buckets full of water before sunrise.
A group of children wedged between Dravis and Mycerra, the two elderly in their designated sleeping area, and the Wei twins stubbornly fighting off sleep to keep watch. The Weis passed out in minutes after the party returned.
Mathers and Balencia sorted the supplies while the turians secured the weaponry and quarian rations.
With the sun peaking over the horizon, the cave fell silent as everyone but two turians stood guard at the entrance.
Everyone woke at different hours, the latest risers being Mathers, the commando, and the elderly.
Mycerra put on her shirt, semi cleaned or not, and plopped down next to General Deltano. "Find any other survivors?"
"More dead."
"Ours or yours?"
"Both." He placed dozens more dog tags in front of her. He opened a ration and split it with two others. "Your injury going to be infected?"
"I think Dravis got it cleaned out well enough. Sterilized the needle with fire." She explained. Her shoulder twinged in pain. "We can't support 50 people in this cave system."
"With that skylight?" He pointed to the reaper created hole.
Her eyes drifted upward toward the sunlight slanting down into the space. "Especially with that skylight. If we're going to be exposed, we may as well set up the refugee camp properly. Were you able to contact anyone?"
"No."
"I've tried all morning. Every channel that I can remember working before." She dragged her fingers through her messy hair. "We used to be a thriving city of millions."
"And you will be again, one day." He assured her calmly. "Today, we worry about today."
Her stomach gnawed and twisted. "We need to stake claim to an area, establish camp. Close enough to water- "
"There was an old restaurant. Mostly destroyed. Kitchen intact."
"That's a good start. Anything else going for it?"
"Intact plumbing."
She genuinely smiled. "Always a plus."
"Getting there is about two hours walk. Westbound. We can raid the fallen towers for supplies, furniture, and keep trying to contact our people."
"Agreed."
"I have faith in you." He assured her.
She cleared her throat, the sight of his rations making her hungrier. "I'm going to get everyone ready to move. The more light we have to claim and outfit the place, the better off we are."
"Right behind you." He hand signaled to every turian, the collective moment and seamless response sending shivers down her spine. They were on her side – for now.
The group of thirty-eight individuals marched across the city to the location marked on the holo map. True to his word, Deltano pointed out the intact plumbing, the intact kitchen, and an otherwise barren expanse punctured by scorch marks and loose debris. They started the long process of turning it into base camp.
Mathers worked the radio. Balencia fixed her omni tool with the Wei twins help. Galaxy shadowed the asari and salarian as they fortified the best they could. Hunkering down in the somewhat shield kitchen, Operation Refugee Camp undertook serious progress the next several days with furniture being reclaimed, debris walls constructed via biotics for safety, and crude tents constructed.
Four people joined them by day five.
Galaxy, the Wei twins, and four turians discovered an underground greenhouse two blocks away by accident at the end of the first week.
Mycerra posted around the clock shifts for the radio in an attempt to make contact.
Ten more people found them mid second week. They ran out of cots and spare beds at that point and resorted to sleeping on the ground.
They contacted the Alliance on week 2.
A drop supply reached their camp via fellow stranded turians and quarians week 3.
Mycerra assumed command, handing out orders left and right. In the middle of the night, Balencia and Mathers disappeared with a goodbye note wishing everyone well.
"They did not just – absolutely not – "
She held the farewell note in hand as Deltano and a quarian foot soldier conversed about supplies, command structure, and the Alliance establishing transport chains for supplies until the mass relays were repaired.
"Galaxy, Darling, not on my legs." Mycerra asked the little girl. Galaxy hid behind her to spy on the quarian in natural curiosity.
She lost five pounds since the beginning of the end of the war. Between lack of rations, constantly improving the camp, and implementing a plan, the weight shed itself in a blink. She barely noticed the weight loss except when Dravis cleaned her injury, or someone remarked on her ribs.
"Why do they hide in suits?" She asked Mycerra loudly.
"We do not have an immune system like yours." The male answered Galaxy directly.
She stopped hiding and moved closer to inspect. "I like your suit."
"Thank you, little human."
"Galaxy. My name is Galaxy." She smiled at him. "Can I have a mask like his, Cerra?" She pointed at the privacy tinted glass.
Mycerra shrugged in response to both Galaxy and the quarian. "Kids will be kids. Galaxy, go play in camp please. Check on the garden. Hopefully that soil fertilizing machine is working properly, and we can jumpstart a garden by next week." She crossed her fingers, praying to the god of gods something changed. Otherwise, a lot of people would starve to death.
Galaxy skipped off.
"I'm so- "
"Children will be children." The quarian repeated. "We need to see that, to cling onto in the dark hours to come."
She cleared her throat and nodded to Deltano. "Balencia and Mathers are gone. Decided to set off on their own." She held up the note and passed it over. "Heard back from one of the teenagers a group of women are headed this way. Six, one pregnant. I'll contact the Alliance and see if we can't get a shipment of rations or something. For fuck sake, the horrors never cease."
"And the miracles deliver." The quarian cut in. "You have unborn who will enter this world with love and kinship your generation was deprived of."
"I don't think I can live with knowing a pregnant woman starved to death in this camp." She wrung her hands. "I'll make it work. Figure it out. Adjust debris walls. Put up more tents. More cots. Don't even know where to start to look for more cots."
"You'll find it." They said at the same time.
She forced a smile. "Nothing in this world worse than knowing you can't save everyone. Are there many of your people on earth?" She asked the quarian.
"We are accounting for our dead."
"If you need help- "
"We'll manage." The quarian said and pointed to the mass of hanging dog tags and ID tags discovered among the ruins now relocated to a debris wall near the entrance. "I need to rest a half hour before setting back for Camp Tantrus."
"We'll escort you there when you're ready to leave." Mycerra insisted. "Least we could do for our new neighbors. Not quite an apple pie, but welcome to the neighborhood. Undergoing major renovation." She tried to make light.
Deltano and the quarian appeared comforted by it. "Remind me to bring the finest dextro-amino acid delicacy I can make." The quarian quipped back.
She flashed them a thumbs up, a pained smile, and too much desperation crawling along her skin to ease her worries. "Six more cots. Where do I find six more cots?" She asked herself as she wandered off.
"New charge, General?" Revan'Dun Vas Evral asked.
"Newly in charge." Deltano answered. "Fish to water. We're all bleeding right now."
"Six more people alive is six less dead to account for." Revan'Dun said in slight comfort. "Another refugee camp set up in the south of the city. Over two hundred people. Alliance dropped supplies for them. I'll give word to the Alliance a camp is set here too."
"Thank you, friend. These people wouldn't make the trek."
"Not with the bands of scavengers and mercs trying to carve their own mark in this hellscape. Best bunk here and make do." He shared his holo map with the army general. Numerous Xs marked each spot he encountered a group.
Deltano agreed. "We're calling it Haven."
"Haven 1 added to the map." Revan'Dun recorded it. "Stay in touch, General. Hate to lose another friend."
Deltano grasped his hand and pulled him into an embrace. "We will escort you half way."
"Gather your ammunition and use it wisely." The quarian warned before entering the thick of the fledgling camp. He sat down with the elderly giving educational lessons to the younger children with rudimentary teaching tools. He fell asleep without realizing it and woke to a child in his lap using him as a pillow. He fell back asleep, one arm around the human child.
He woke again at dusk to Mycerra standing over him in a large tent cluttered with cots and newly built bunkbeds.
He sat upright on a cot slowly.
"We have some food you can eat, the turians were willing to share. You're free to stay the night. I insist. Got reports of raiders hitting up smaller camps. We're going to invite them here and help them move if they accept."
"Good plan."
"Is the enviro suit required?" She pulled up a beat up stool to sit next to him.
"Yes."
"Is there anything that I can do to make you more comfortable?"
The concern on her face made him like her more than the other humans he'd met so far. "I'll work the comms and try to communicate with my people."
She chewed her lip. "I know it's a long shot, but if you hear word about Pacyra Colton, let me know?"
"I'll alert you." He promised.
"Thank you. Don't worry about setting an alarm. I'll wake you in the morning. The general already said he'd help you back to the other camp. By the way, Haven 1 sounds like the perfect name."
He paused.
"I like it. It promises safety and comfort. Better than that." She gestured outside the tent, a crude construction of metal poles and tarps strapped together by ties of various nature. "Like I said, I'll wake you."
"Human." He held out his hand.
She shook it awkwardly.
"Keelah se'lai."
"Well met." She squeezed and pumped once. "If you need to bathe, we have a medical tent set up, but I don't think it's a sterile unit if you need an enviro."
He held up his hand. "Smelled worse."
"Can't imagine living with my own BO that long."
"Racial hazard." He joked.
She laughed with him. "I've lost about ten pounds. Stopped weighing myself. We'll eventually come out the better end of this."
"We will."
"I hate the affirmative talk, you know? We're always spinning everything in a positive light, but nothing is positive except the next breath we take. City is destroyed. Millions just gone. How many survivors? A couple thousand? If we're lucky, ten thousand. That's not including the injured, too young to care for themselves, or the special needs. On top that, you have the scavengers and mercs out there." She dragged her hand through her hair. "We hope, we want, we need. We tell ourselves it'll get better. What if it doesn't?"
"Everything gets better." The quarian insisted a little too stubbornly.
"I like your positivity, Revan'Dun Vas Evral. Wish I could share in it."
"One day." He laughed again, this time more sincerely. "Ow."
She nodded sarcastically. "Know that feeling all too well too. I'm going to give you some privacy. If you need anything, Tabitha is my is second in command. She's not biotic but she can give directions as good as anyone else. Answer questions." She saluted him on the way out.
He returned the salute half heartedly before laying back down.