ARNV ( Andromeda Republic Naval Vessel ) ' Tempest '
2788
August 9th
9:45am, shipboard clock
( SAMC= Systems Alliance Marine Corps )
" Attention all hands...attention all hands. Hear this: We've now exited FTL. Location...The Sephesa System..."
" And..On the approach corridor to Chophise. All ground team members, prepare to muster to hangar bay. "
Professional as always, Kallo
Still midway through the millennia-old Asari Commando Meditation routines that she'd been following with religious dedication for nearly a decade ( nothing to an actual Asari, but that was beside the point ) , Cora did at least spare a moment to ( mentally ) compliment the Salarian at the helm of their vessel. He did deserve it, after all- professionalism was one of the most deeply-held lesson she'd been taught at the hands of the Commandos over the many, many solar days she'd spent with them...along with the equally coveted lessons of mindfulness, discipline, and courage.
All mattered. For now, though...the first applied the most.
Seated cross-legged on the deckplates of her quarters, with the overhead lamps of it turned down to just half-strength to give off a soothing, gentle glow, the lifelong spacer went back then to her rituals. Though they were completely lacking when it came to anything you could touch, or wield as a weapon, or wear as protective armor...they still served as their own form of an arsenal. By sticking with them, and doing so exactly as she'd been taught, it ultimately helped her just as much as any suit of armor or gun. Purging her mind of doubts, negative thoughts, or at least giving her more focus to resist aforementioned negative thoughts if they came back later. Any Commando ( Asari, or otherwise ) worth her salt wouldn't enter a combat environment without having done so first, if at all possible.
And, it was, for sure. " On approach " might sound like it was something happening minutes away, but this was outer space distances at play here. " On approach " could take a few hours, at least.
Plenty of room to finish the Rituals, and finish them properly. The only way they deserved
...So, to that end...
Back to it, she went. Eyes remained closed, limbs tightly arranged as they were...breathing slowed. Reciting the mantras of the Commandos, down to the letter...
" Alone, a Commando is a grave threat..."
" But with her sisters, she becomes as lethal as a winter storm "
As the words were uttered, their effect came just as quickly. Like how the endless way ocean waves crashes and rolled over each other again, again, and again...the soothing, centering effect of the Manta began taking hold of her, from head to foot. A real sense of calm, rather than the mockery kind of if you'd get from wolfing down ice cream...or getting drunk.
Not that she was familiar with the latter thing, though. Partially because high-powered Biotics just couldn't seem to " get tanked ", so to speak, (for some reason ), and partially because she wasn't a drinker...despite many temptations from her Commando sisters to have a shot of Asari Brandy after an Op- or even a Training Op !
A rare display of lacking discipline for the likes of them. Thankfully...Cora had resisted the notorious peer pressure demon.
Rather, she had this: the best of their lifestyle, and teachings. The way they'd gained strength, and focus, and purged the mind of dangerous, contaminating, distracting thoughts long enough to see a mission through- or, at least give them a strong, robust headstart on any of them coming back soon enough to cause problems.
Though the Milky Way was 600 years worth of FTL travel away...during moments like this ?
Somehow...it seemed closer. As Cora sat here, eyes shut...soaking the sense of calm that was enveloping her like a cloak...
...It actually, genuinely seemed...as if she was still back there. Needless to say, the illusion would be smashed to pieces the moment she opened said eyes, but for the moment..
...For the moment, she could be there again.
And again...when she did this again.
Which she knew for a fact, would be soon.
" Lt. Harper ! Right on schedule, as always. You could be a Turian with that kind of punctuality. "
Turians might've lacked faces that were even remotely easy to read, but that double-toned voiced of theirs was nearly as good. Listen to enough of them for long enough, and you could get a pretty good sense of what they thought of you.
From the humming, lyrical vibrations of what Vetra had just said...Cora knew ( mostly, at least ) that the Turian Arms Master was only half-joking...probably. There was always some doubt with Turians, what with their voices as...unique, as they were. But, anyway...
Good enough.
" I'll take that as a compliment ", Cora replied, setting her bulging gear bag ( packed with several Cobra Multi-Munition Missile Launchers ) down on the deck of the Kodiak Gunship. " Even better...I'll give one back: You could be human with how creative you are, especially with high explosives. "
" Ha ! My turn to say that's a compliment. Guess that's the benefit of multispecies crew...though, some of my old Drill sergeants back on Palaven might've disagreed "
Cora raised a brow. " That so ? Why ? "
Vetra shrugged. " Hardcore old school, I think. They were the kind who didn't think we'd benefit from anyone's way but our own. We're kind of a rigidly minded species, if you haven't figured it out. "
She paused, then quickly added, "...Pretty sure you have, though. And everyone else. "
" Don't worry about it ", Cora assured her. " It has its uses..."
" Yeah...but we got to loosen. At least just a bit. "
Cora nodded, humming a bit to add strength to her point.
Truth be told...she'd secretly found the conversations she tended to have with Turians as arguably the most...unique she'd had among all the non-Human races- with the obvious exception of Pelessaria , who was an anomaly all on her own. Why ? Well...probably because of what Vetra had just said just now: most Turians all thought the same way, with that rock-solid, Civic-service first, Roman-Legion-Military-mindset that was all about following rules, putting others ahead of yourself nearly to the detriment of yourself, and generally not coloring outside the lines, so to speak. Humanity, on the other hand, had a reputation of pretty much just a mishmash of every Council race: The scientific curiosity of the Salarians, the tact and philosy of the Asari, and yes, the militarism of the Turains. Hardly a wonder, then, that their two races had been at odds for years.. and still had much to learn about one another even now.
600+ years later, as well. It was true after all, then, that the process of learning didn't stop.
For anyone. All of them-
" Ladies ! "
A male voice, with an North Yorkshire English accent heavily attached to it, come from somewhere off to the left, out and beyond the still-opened side door of the Kodiak.
Cora blinked, her train of thought momentarily stopped, and by pure reflex turned around to find-
" Specialist Costa ! "
The frizzy-haired man offered a grin and a wave, as he approached, also carrying a gear bag via one hand. Over the top of his right shoulder, the muzzle of an M5 Ghost Assault Rifle ( his weapon of choice ) was just barely visible.
" Lt ! You beat me here- I am ashamed. I'll pull kitchen duty for a week, ok ? "
It was the kind of self-deprecating humor that the former Crisis Response HUSTL member had become known for, and as per usual, it elicited a quick laugh from Vetra, as Liam Kosta reached them, and stepped through the gap. " Kosta...if you want me to marry you, stop beating around the bush and just say so already ! "
The ex-rescue specialist smirked, setting his bag down on an empty spot. " Hate to disappoint, but I still have plans for Sara Ryder. But, I am the chivalrous sort, so the offer stands. "
Un-shockingly, the mere mention of the name " Ryder " triggered what was now a familiar flash of all the feelings that Cora was still grappling with...
Like touching a hot pot, it was quick, and powerful...
But...after that morning meditation session, her sense of discipline and self-control was revamped quite a bit, so all that she showed outwardly was a slight hff of amusement, and a quick " Specialist, don't bite off what you can't chew. Get that load properly stowed- we need to get planetside before the hour's out. "
" Exactly, Lt...! "
...
...Again, a guy's voice caught her ( mostly ) off guard, and only her Huntress training let Cora hold onto any real amount of situational awareness. Again, already, she had to pivot around a bit to face who it was-
Scott.
It was Scott. Scott Ryder, the Pathfinder himself.
Headed right this way.
But...she knew that. Needless to say ( the highest level of needless to say )...she knew that.
Besides...there he was. Wearing that well-traveled suit of N7 Armor, with its unmistakable blood red and coal black colors, extra plating attached, and a bandolier of plasma grenades slipped around the chest. The suit's helmet was clamped under one arm , and his own preferred weapon-a Valkyrie, with an Omni-Bayonet fixed on- was clearly riding along via one of his armor's back mag-strips. From head to foot, he looked ready for action.
Except, that he'd proven he actually was, when he got like this. He'd proven himself as a fighter and a leader. Proven himself, like his dad had.
" We've got a plan to stick to, and an objective to accomplish, squad ! ", he continued, sounding a lot like his old man, as he boarded the Gunship with swift, purposeful strides.
" Everyone accounted for ? ", he called, glancing around to double check as he did.
Thank God for masking emotions...
Attraction, uncertainty...plus a touch of fear and even giddiness were all competing for Cora's consciousness' attention. She knew they were there, but the discipline came to her aid once more, and she replied calmly as ever:
" Yes, sir ! "
Having finished his visual sweep, and finding Cora was right, Scott nodded his satisfaction. " Then, let's get going. Sooner we get down there, the sooner that potential stash of Remnant Tech will belong to us. "
" Kinda seems like the sort of thing we should be bringing Pelasarria along for ", Liam remarked, as he moved to shut the Kodiak's door. " She lives and breahtes for this kind of stuff. "
Scott clicked his tongue with noticeable disapproval. " On my watch ? I don't think so. She'll stay where her loose-cannon antics aren't going to cause a wrench for the operation. We already know she's anything but a team player. "
" Yeah...I got the same reading off her myself ", Vetra agreed
Activating his Omni-Tool, he then addressed their pilot. " Stevens ! This is the Pathfinder. You copy ? "
" Loud and clear, sir. "
" All personnel on board. We're ready to deploy . "
" ...Checking ID signatures...and confirmed. All accounted for, 4 souls aboard. Beginning takeoff sequence ".
Moments later, the low-gear-heavy thrummm of the Gunship's thrusters began to pulsate through every surface of the craft, both outside and otherwise. " Find your chairs, and strap down ! ", came the order from the Pathfinder, and everyone quickly did. It wasn't a moment wasted, either, as just a few seconds later, the floaty-ness that an airborne craft always gave its passengers whenever it began taking flight soon began to grip Cora, and she knew they were about to leave.
It'd be at least 10 minutes till they reached the ground, and were boots on the deck, so to speak...which was basically code for one last set of chances to be alone with your thoughts before things got hot.
Literal millions of miles away from Earth...and some things just didn't change.
That was definitely one of them, she was acutely reminded, as the Gunship actually began to move forwards, slightly at an angle, on its way out through the hangar bay doors. It might be a brand new galaxy for them, yes, but this was still the calm before the storm- or, if you asked either of the Ryder twins...they were the storm !
A sentiment that was actually quite true, come to think of it. But, regardless, this was still when one could think clearly, before that chanced would be taken from them for at least the next few hours. How you spent it, though, was all your choice.
Or...
..Well, it was mostly all your choice...but-
"...Clear, sir. Clear of the Tempest. On course though the pipe, 5 by 5. "
" Copy that, Lt. "
Just across from her, Scott ended the brief transmission with the pilot, before closing his OT, and letting his armored forearms rest on this knees. Next to him, Liam still had his on, and seemed to busily be double-reading some set of documents ( or schematics ) or other, while on Cora's right, Veta seemed...that she was asleep ? Resting her eyes ? Something like that, more or less, from the look of it.
Basically...everyone else had something to occupy themselves with. Actually, everyone overall, quite frankly..
Cora among them.
Several, actually. All the usual things, like running weapons checks, and gear checks, and , as always, another ( albeit abbreviated ) meditation session. All of which would serve a purpose, of course, and all of which would be helpful, for sure.
But..
...
The thing was...
Well...she'd just been hit by another revelation. Another one this solar day, after the morning meditation session.
And that one was: She had to reconcile feelings, with duty.
And...love
Duty, and love. Scott was right there, right across from her, and he was about to lead her though a Combat Op, yet again. He was the CO here, and via the pull of duty and obligation, Cora would follow his lawful orders. That's how the chain of command went. You didn't question your superior when he said what to do, especially when the bullets ( and/or plasma , when it came to fighting Kett or Roekar ) were coming your way.
Otherwise, someone ( such as the aforementioned CO, or a squadmate, allies, civvies even ) could die. Or even yourself. You couldn't afford to let anything impact or impede that.
Anything...
...But...
Abruptly, Cora glanced over at him- at that exact moment. She found herself already studying his face, and found that he was composed and relaxed as she remembered Alec having done the same. Truly, he was his father's son.
She also was reminded that she definitely found him strikingly handsome. Plus, that aforementioned calm and decisiveness- that natural male leadership complex - was just as compelling, and joined with the whole looks department...and everything else about him that'd caused her to fall for him...
She was deeply attracted to him. And, with attraction, came a desire to protect. To mitigate risk...
And, just minutes from now...they'd all be at risk. From Remnant 'bots, from the Kett...possibly even the Roekar as well. Scott was the CO, and thus, he'd be leading the charge.
He'd be at the most risk...
Exactly where you'd want to protect him...
Even if he might say otherwise..
Cora exhaled, minutely, as the Gunship rocked and shuddered along its flight path through space. This...this was the rub, wasn't it. She was finally forced to confront the biggest hurdles of this entire " relationship " journey she'd found herself on- and calling it a relationship at all was a stretch, considering she hadn't said a word to Scott about this at all. Then again...if she couldn't clear the aforementioned hurdle, then the chance of this whole thing actually going to the next level probably wouldn't happen.
Said next step, needless to say...was actually sealing the deal. Somehow. Any way, at all...
But, first..
Combat, with someone she was harboring deep feelings for calling the shots.
Consciously, Cora didn't actually doubt that she'd have difficulty with doing what she was told by Scott that might put him where she couldn't cover him, or even ( God forbid )...leaving him behind for the sake of the mission- and even considering that was something that she refused to actively dwell on, if she didn't have to. But, the truth remained...that she still had to confront it.
You know what's expected of you...
You know yourself.
The doubts don't matter, because you know yourself.
You won't fail him. Or the team...or yourself.
She sighed again, as a mix of her old Huntress sisters' words, and her own mind, crossed paths. Either way, though...it was a reminder of what she was as sure of as she could be of anything:
It wasn't a matter of how strong her feelings for Scott were. She would still do what was needed, and maintain the chain.
...However hard it might be.
However hard. But, the doubts remained, and there were only minutes left till they'd get their shot to manifest fully.
Cora would have to shut them down. She was confident that she could, but...
Again...unknown territory.
Unknown, and dark.
She bit her lower lip, and stared at the deck beneath her boots, as the Gunship's pilot called out that they were nearing the final approach envelope. They were coming down to the wire, basically, and the clock for ruminating and dwelling was pretty much run out.
Had she spent it wisely ? Well...soon enough, she find out.
Soon...and that alone gave her strength.
" *****king tin cans ! "
For just a moment- a split moment, really- Kosta's relaxed demeanor went away, and he reeled off a burst of cusswords that would've shocked even a SAMC Drill Sergeant at the swarm of Remnant Assembler bots that was absolutely painting his position with bolts of energy fire.
There were at least half a dozen of them , and they were jerkily advancing his way with their twin gun barrels blazing . A dozen more-at least- of them more lay before them, all shot to ribbons, or slagged, or blown apart...but the Remnant bots weren't gifted with minds. They were just dumb automatons. They didn't know anything.
Stepping over their own dead to reach their enemy ? Sure- they'd do it. They were just slaves to their programming, after all.
Cold comfort, though, to the squad from the Tempest currently slugging it out with them.
" Keep it together, Kosta ! ".
Rising just high enough to get a view over the top of the Remnant barricade he was sheltering behind, Scott extended his arm, and after a millisecond, shot a bolt of superheated plasma of his own from his OT fabricator toward the murderous robots. He hit the sun-baked, gritty sand at the base of the barricade right afterwards, so he could get a view of the effect without exposing himself-
-to all that fire. The Assemblers were thinning out, yes, but the tin cans had been stubbornly programmed ( God alone knew how many thousands of years ago that was ), to go for the kill at all costs , and even though the Hypervelocity, armor-piercing rounds spat out from the Squad had scythed right through them...others just kept advancing, with the sun glinting of their ancient, but strangely clean metal plates.
Advancing, shot to smoking metal confetti...and yet, the rest didn't stop charging.
Braa-sshhha !
A loud, hissing roar rolled out over the desert, as the plasma bolt burst amid the lot of them. 14,000 degrees of heat slagged whole 'bots quicker than a flash, and more just had their limbs blown off like a LEGO toy getting dropped on the floor. There were still more of them, even after that...but they'd now been truly rocked back on their heels.
Cora saw the tail end of it, as she also briefly leaned from cover ( another random slab of Remnant metal sticking out of the ground, God alone knew what it was actually for ), to throw a Biotic Shockwave downrange. It didn't affect her focus ( she wasn't a rookie, after all ), but she did enjoy the split-moment of satisfaction anyway.
Eat it, toasters..., she mentally taunted them, as the searing blue flash ripples of her Shockwave barrelled away. A moment later, it crashed like a energy avalanche against a second knot of Assemblers marching toward the squad...and violently scattered them all over the place like so many bowling pins.
So many, homicidal, just-scrap-metal-now bowling pins. Just wrecked now. There were still more, needless to say...but they'd been rocked, and rocked badly.
Perhaps things are going our way...!
Yes...perhaps so. They'd certainly begun that way, anywhoo...
Landing , for one. The Gunship had set down without getting spotted ( let alone shot at ) amid a secluded box canyon , just a few clicks ( miles ) away from their objective: An entire Remnant naval shipbuilding yard, recently discovered by one of the Apex Scout Teams. From their assessment, it appeared to still have full operational capacity ! With that as the case, the Andromeda Republic Navy could drastically bolster their naval arsenal...and considering the rifts developing at the highest levels of the Republic political structure that could lead to the Humans forming an entirely separate nation, they'd need every advantage they could get.
Basically, they had plenty of reasons to get this done. Plenty of reasons to deal with a few ornery robots...
Well...more than a few ornery robots, that is. Something they'd learned pretty quick when the Tempest's scanner array had detected online Remnant fabrication facilities that the shipyard contained. They couldn't pinpoint any signatures of actual Remnant bots, though, so all the strike team could do was push on the objective , and just deal with however many bots that would get thrown at them.
Which...was actually quite a few, as they were now finding out.
But, then again-
" Thanks for the assist ! "
Now with ( some of ) the pressure eased off, Liam had more room to maneuver, which he promptly took advantage of. Cora was busy with supercharging another Biotic attack, when she saw a searing white contrail of missile exhaust go streaking out toward the enemy ranks- right alongside a yell of " Rocket out ! ". A moment later...there was a borderline volcanic eruption, as yet more Assemblers were outright vaporized via the heat of a Cobra launcher's direct hit at the head of them.
Perhaps the tide really was turning...
Perhaps...
Euphoria began to swell through the former SAMC Biotic, as she momentarily switched to her own weapon- an L95 Halberd, chambered with Warp rounds- , and readied to get set to engage with it. They were getting close, it seemed, to getting over the hill, and grabbing a major win...!
It was like electricity running through her veins. It was amazing to have...and the fact that they were all doing it millions of millions of miles away from the Milky Way only added to what could be such a milestone for Humanity.
But...
Two things, at this exact juncture, stopped her just as she neared that border.
Just as she was about to cross it...
One...
..Was that Asari Huntress lifestyle. The Matriarchs, who'd mentored her as much as any of the rest of the Daughters, had always reminded their disciples to hold back a bit during the heat of an active mission...because there was always the chance, however slight, that there may be another unpleasant twist awaiting you.
At any moment...
Any one at all. But, as they'd also cautioned, that could get dangerously close to pessimism...
"...Squad ! ", called Scott, pitching his voice above the roar and din of the dying off explosions, and echoes of the Shockwaves that'd so devastated the Assemblers " Now ! Now ! Push on the entrance..! "
" They're flagging ! Got to press 'em ! "
...He was right, Cora realized.
The aforementioned entrance- a soaring, razor-angled archway that was flanked on both sides by grapefruit-round domes that resembled a pair of bunkers- had always been pretty close, but all these pesky robots spawning like mosquitoes out of the deployment bays that'd been placed there God-knows-how long ago had been slowing them down quite a bit- but, that wasn't as much of a case any longer.
With the Shockwaves, and the Cobra missiles having decimated them, the Remnant 'bots' resistance was crumbling. If they pushed now...
Right now...then...
" Copy that, sir ! "
Rising to a low crouch, ready to explode to a full stance, Cora quickly double-checked her Halberd. Its ammo counter glowed bright Cyan under the dull orange sunlight of the morning-
-as did the flavor of ammo it was loaded with: Disruptor. Heavy-grade. Perfect for cleaving and scything though these annoying robots, which it had been. It'd done the same thing to Cerberus LOKI and RAMPART Mechs back home, so its punch against these tin cans wasn't a surprise. Clearly, it only emboldened the already-confident Scott more, as he began to surge ahead.
Or maybe it was his own X5 Ghost's spewing more death at the rest of the robots- " killing " several more ( " killing ", as they technically hadn't ever been alive ) as he began to lead them all forward. Cora automatically, and reflexively, moved to stay close by, as she was his 2nd ( just as she'd been for his dad ), with her own Halberd scrapping two more and crippling yet another.
On the left flank, Liam and Vetra were pushing forward as well, as a quick glance that way confirmed. The whole squad was on the roll now, pounding forward over the sand dunes..
Adrenaline continued to pulse through Cora's blood-and for all the right reasons. They were close to accomplishing their goal...
As it appeared, anyway. Few things were as tantalizing for a Huntress, than the sense of impending victory. Yet, as much as it was real...as much as she knew it was real...
" Pathfinder ! Pathfinder Team, this is Tempest bridge..! ", cried the ever-crisp, slightly-too-quick voice of Jallo over the Squad freq.
" How copy, Pathfinder Team Lead ?! "
Yeah. There it was.
Right as they were building momentum, as well ! A more cynical person might've complained ( out loud, or to themselves...or both ) that this kind of thing should've been expected...but even if Cora had been that kind of person ( and she wasn't ), they were well past that now.
And, it'd only been a few milliseconds, as well-
" Solid copy, Bridge..! ", responded Scott, as he ran past a fallen Assembler, double-tapping it through the head just for good measure as he did. " Send it..! "
" Something just appeared on our sensor net- huge signature...! ", reported the Salarian. " Its moving fast on your position as we speak...! "
A shadow ( for now ) of apprehension began to sweep over Cora, but it wasn't a problem on its own . She'd listened to those words before...over and over, on countless worlds across the Milky Way...
...Though, with all the mysteries of Andromeda that they still hadn't uncovered, it still hit differently, hearing it even yet again. And it wasn't the good kind of different, either...
" Southwest of your 20, Pathfinder ! "
Southwest...?!
Adrenaline surged automatically For the Biotic after hearing that. A big contact, on their tail...
And it was gaining on them ?! From the rear ? Things were changing fast, and for the worst.
Reflexes activated, and the former second for Alec Ryder spun partially, scanning the vectors behind her, Halberd raised. As she did, she observed Vetra and Liam also chaning their aim- everyone was on the freq, so they'd all know-
" Harper ! ", exclaimed the Pathfinder. " On me ! Vetra, Kosta...form a perimeter ! We can't push on the gate with something coming from our rear ! "
"...Roger that, sir ! ", came a chorus of shouts from the team.
They moved quickly, and with purpose. Cora ran forward, coming to a stop close by Scott on his right and dropping to a knee as he sent out another call over the comms: " Bridge, get a fix on that contact if you can ! I want it taken out from orbit...only way to be sure ! "
"...Roger that, Pathfinder ! ", came the response a few moments later. " Moving to acquire a lock...! "
There was still 0 sign of the actual contact, though...whatever the heck it was. The surrounding groves of towering, palm-esque plants that surrounded the main approach toward the Shipyard gates were still shrouded with shadows, without any real hint of oncoming movement through them. Even a glance at her helmet's HUD's motion tracker didn't show anything...and that thing had been calibrated ( it couldn't wait ) this morning !
...Couldn't be a technical issue , at least.
But, what then- ?
"..Pathfinder !? Bridge here ".
" Bad news ...!", reported Kallo, who still sounded professional, but with a detectable edge of urgency about it. " There's...some manner of jamming effect coming from that contact ! Its throwing our aim off pinpoint ! We're still locked, but..."
"...Send that again, Bridge ! ".
Scott sounded understandably surprised at the fresh bad news, but also rather annoyed...which was actually encouraging. If you were annoyed about something, after all, then you'd want to solve/address it, as soon and as thoroughly as possible.
Provided, of course, you had the mental discipline to keep your emotions from overcoming you.
" Its...jamming you ?! Do you still have a connection ?! Any at all ?! "
"...Roger that, Pathfinder, but if we launch, the margin for friendly fire is at least 45 percent ! Otherwise, I could narrow it to just 19...! "
" For God's sake...".
The son of the original Pathfinder huffed- an uncommon display of outward frustration from him. Cora didn't hold it against him, though- that just came with the territory of leading a unit. There would always be hiccups said unit would encounter as it did its thing outside the wire...and as the CO, that would be your job to deal with.
Perhaps serving as the 2nd wasn't so bad, all things considered...
Still, things were what they were, and all Cora could do was keep her Halberd pointed downrange, and await orders...and keep relying on her Huntress meditation and discipline to stave off the lingering shadow of apprehension that was hovering at the back of her mind. Something was coming for them, after all, something big, and they were having issues with taking it out from orbit, which was the only way to ensure-
"...Bridge..", Scott finally ended the silence. " Standby for new orders...copy ?! "
" Loud and clear, sir. Ready and able-"
" Launch. "
" I send again...launch on that contact ", the Pathfinder ordered, lacing the words with a new edge of authority. " Mass Drivers first, then follow with a missile salvo. How much do we need to move to be clear of the probable blast radius ? "
For a millisecond- no, a nanosecond- the Comms were silent.
Silent as the grave.
Until-
" God Almighty..."
Liam. He was barely whispering, and nearly sounded like he was just thinking out loud-oh, he actually was. Cora couldn't say she disagreed with him, either way.
Her own lower lip found itself getting bitten, despite everything. For ( another ) nanosecond, a memory shot across her conscious mind, of the day when the Asari cruiser Mythea had rained an orbital bombardment to annihilate a convoy of Batarian slaver APC's that'd been about to outflank Cora and her Huntress sisters during that Slave liberation mission on Logasiri . The naval gunners had pulled it off, but...
Some days, Cora could swear she could still feel the heat on her back from how close those detonations had come. It'd stuck with her, how close it'd come..
Friendly fire isn't friendly...
But, it wasn't her call now, just as it'd been then. Either way, she wasn't the one calling the shots...plus, both she and whoever was both knew the score: They were getting chased by something that was a high priority target.
An Architect, after all.
An Architect...! As major threats went, it only went one higher:
Abyssal...
An Abyssal...!
The mere hint of the thought of one of those behemoths was enough to send a truly nasty shiver down her spine, and suddenly...the rifle she was wielding didn't seem any more useful than a drinking straw. Against a Remnant Abyssal....that's about as useful as it'd be.
Assuming that's what was coming for them, that is...
"...From where we're scanning from, PT...you should relocate past the Shipyard's walls ", came the response from their ship. " With haste- that contact is less than a minute out from completely closing the distance ! Do you have a visual ?! "
Always talking over themselves, Salarians...
Some things don't change..
" Negative, Bridge ! ", Scott stood slightly taller then, seemingly considering whether or not to lead them against it...which was a thought that only lasted a millisecond for Cora ( assuming the Pathfinder had been considering it at all ), and one she was grateful didn't pan out.
Yet, though. There was still room on the clock for-
"...Alright...I'll 'em back to the Yard ! Launch the strike now, understand !? Send it...! "
...Or, not.
" Copy that, Pathfinder ! Orbital bombardment commencing ! "
No, seems he was doing the right thing...as per usual.
And, speaking of which...
" Acknowledged..."
" Hey...Team ! ", bellowed Scott, knife-handing the way they'd been going . " On ! Me ! Head for the Archway ! "
"..You heard him ! Keep it close, and move ! "
Pitching her voice loud, Cora automatically seconded the orders- and just as automatically, began to stand, turn, and move to keep pace with him, because he was already moving...as was the rest of the unit. The air itself seemed to be getting...charged, somehow, with electricity, as they all- her, Liam, Veta, and Scott as the one leading the way- began to beat feet like those who had a purpose...
Such as...avoiding getting vaporized by a friendly orbital strike. That sure counted, as much as the Biotic ( or the rest of them, frankly ) were concerned...
Onwards they went, covering ground as quickly as they could. Millions and billions of sand grains barely gave way beneath them, as they ran, and ran, and ran...
Over the dune ( spice ) that was the last natural obstacle between them and the gate...then down the other side of it onto the sweeping plain that led right to the gates themselves. The slope was steep, and just enough so that Cora spontaneously decided to go for a slide down it. It wasn't even remotely planned- just flopped over ( albeit tactically...more or less )...and just began to slide. Down, down , down...for at least 30 feet or so, leaving behind a rooster tail of dust and kicked away pebbles as she shot across the desert's surface.
It was an exhilarating right, honestly , but...it didn't last long. Didn't need to, though, because that was all it took to get to the bottom. Scrambling back to her feet, and glancing around to regain her bearing, Cora found the other members of the unit were already vertical as well...and still moving like they had a purpose...
Dang right we do...!
...And...still bolting along, still headed for the gates as a unit, when-
"...Impact ! Impact, Pathfinder ! "
...Out ran their clock.
Thooom !
Thooom !
Thooomm !
Thooomm !
...Well..
...Better overkill than underkill, as the SAMC had always said. Better you use more brute force than you might actually need, than don't use enough and fail to get the job done. Of course...even if you did use brute force, it still might fail, but that just showed you hadn't used enough !
A full scale orbital bombardment, using cruiser-grade mass drivers ? Yeah...that would qualify as such. Plus, the gaping, still-smoking, still-glowing-cherry-red-and-(literally)burnt-orange crater that'd been viciously carved out of the planet's surface own its own hammered that point home more than anything else ever could.
It was...even for a crater, it just looked mean. Like a manifestation of anger and raw rage itself, stitched across the surface of this world from the sky, and aggressively rewriting how it looked-
...Cora...
...You might've been more of an Asari than you ever realized, getting all philosophical like this...over a crater !
A crater ?!
...What ?
...The moment of clarity, and self reflection came out of nowhere-just as the previous one had, of Cora gazing down at the glassed pit that was before her, with the rest of the squad arranged on her left and right as they carried out a group BDA of what was clearly...just an absolute hellstorm that the Tempest had rained on the...on the...
"...I think I can say, with total confidence: We have one dead Architect ", remarked Nyreen, with that warbling, dual-toned voice all Turians possessed.
" Gutted like a...a...a salmon, I think. That the fish from your homeworld ? "
There was a light chuckle at that- from Liam. " That's the one, Kandros. You nailed it, don't worry. "
" Save it for the ride home, comedians..."
Authoritatively, but not harshly, Scott got a handle on the spot of comedy, as he methodically took a few steps down over the edge of the crater, and down its charred slope, Omni-Tool out and activated. " It might look dead, but we need to confirm..."
" Gonna send a drone out...Tempest bridge, you still online ? "
" 100 percent, Pathfinder. Out orbital dropped probe isn't getting any readings from that Architect, but our gun batteries are standing by. "
" Copy that, Kallo..."
Yet again...Scott was a mirror of his old man- well, minus the lack of that lantern jaw, grey streaks through his hair ( silver fox...rest well, Alec ), more or less. Both careful, and meticulous at reading a situation , and getting all the right details from it. More and more, Cora was getting the impression that the old man had been training him ( and possibly his sister, as well ) as potential future successors to his own position as Pathfinder on top of doing the same for Cora herself...
Maybe that was so, she reckoned, as the younger of the Ryder men swept his scanner's field over the still-warm remains of the Architect, double-checking that it was truly dead. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he was so competent- had this whole " command " thing finally nailed down, after a required patch of " learning the ropes ". After all...he hadn't planned to become the Pathfinder, not even close, but after Alec's tragic loss on Habitat 7, and the circumstances that'd forced SAM to get loaded to Scott's head, the role had been his regardless of whether he'd wanted it or otherwise.
Yet, he'd really stepped to the plate over the past year, and proved himself more and more of a man and a leader. Like a younger version of Alec, for sure.
Wait no-
Himself.
He's his own man, now. Always has been.
...And, pretty much the kind I've been looking for-
...Oh, God.
...There it was, yet again.
A flickering shudder ran through Cora's nerves, as Scott deactivated his scanner. She'd gone the whole fight-the whole fight, especially the addition of that wretched Progenitor, plus the revelation that they'd been stalked by an honest to God Architect...and he'd kept his cool. Kept it calm and rational, like a leader.
Mix that with his still-amassing aura of that natural male energy, and...yeah, there wasn't any point of denying it anymore.
Pointless. Completely pointless.
But, what wasn't-
" ...Still as the grave, Team ! ", remarked the Pathfinder, snapping Cora from her mental ruminations. " Getting 0 life signs from the Architect. It's well and truly dead. "
" Always check for a pulse, eh, sir..? ", noted Liam , with a wry grin.
" Yes Liam...as that ancient-but still good- movie said...along with basic common sense ", replied Scott, as he clambered back out of the pit, leaving a double-trail of bootprints behind him, sunk deep though the pillowy, adobe-colored sand. " Always double-check. "
" Sensible ". Vetra voiced her approval. " My old commanders from the Army would be impressed...and that's hard to do with Turian officers. "
" Sticks shoved where they shouldn't be, and all that ", she quickly added.
" Ah, you're familiar with the hard truth. " Scott smirked, mildly bemused, before pivoting to face the rest of the unit.
" Ok, Team...we're all clear out here ! Move to occupy the Yard ! Soon as we confirm its clear as well, we'll mark it for a Task Force from Eos to pull everything they can. Rally on me, and let's move out ! "
He gestured to drive the point- a lasso motion-, as he unslung his rifle, and moved back to his usual lead position. Mirroring it, Liam and Vetra set off as well, smoothly returning their weapons back to a ready stance.
Cora, of course, did the same...and just as before, she found herself right back where she'd begun this day ( it wasn't such a long way, though ): Right on Scott's right flank, and close by as well. Keeping step with him as he moved , as the sun overhead continued shining bright...
Lingering traces of adrenaline continued to flow through her vessels, and the rippling tension persisting through every muscle finally, at last, began to fade, but...that was just the psychical . Her mental arena, on the other hand, was still pretty active- and it'd only gotten more so now that the whole battle to secure the Shipyard was over. Finally, she had more room for her own private thoughts...more room to let them out from behind the locked gates of her mind that all that Huntress and SAMC Training had secured. Good thing as well...because before having to put them there, she'd begun to realize that...
...
She knew...
..She already knew.
But...this...this latest fight just now ? It'd been like a metallurgy furnace-burning away stuff that slowed down clear thinking and understanding...and leaving behind something clearer and purer. The whole picture still wasn't fully clear, but there'd been a big step taken toward getting there.
Specifically...
Don't know how to say it to him...and even to myself , it sounds unprofessional as as sin, but...
Ah...dang it, I can't pretend anymore. Even if I wanted to...which I don't. Haven't for a while.
...Man, its such a turn-on to watch him run a unit. Take command...issuing orders rationally under pressure...just that natural male energy..
A shiver-an honest-to-God shiver- ran from top to bottom though her spine, perfectly synced with that thought, and fully automatic. She recognized it as such, but by now , she was long past getting surprised at them...so...
...She did the only thing she could, which was accept them. Following Scott's lead, as he lead them along yet again, Cora privately embraced- at last...the truth.
Well...truths. One was more recent, and the other...well the other had been there for a while, slowly building and amassing. That was, specifically, that yes: she could follow him through battle, and though field ops, without losing control of her sense of discipline , focus, or self-awareness. Now that things had calmed, she knew that was absolutely true.
That, and something else: Finally...she understood the nucleus of the whole attraction she had for Scott. Finally, the whole tangled web of emotions she was dealing with ( which was saying something, given how driven by emotion women are compared to men ), was actually coming undone, even if just a tad.
But, just that slight amount was enough, because it showed her something new. Something she hadn't really considered , or at least understood...till just now.
...Got to let him know...
I've...got everything I need, don't I ? I know that I care, and that I want him. I know what's keeping it all going...
She breathed deep then, searching for a sense of center, as the squad finally finished trekking back the way they'd run. The Archways of the Yard's entrance loomed high above them, casting a shadow over them all...
Kind of how the shadow of what she had to do now, come to think of it.
But, she couldn't-and wouldn't- shy away from it. Even if she wanted to, which she didn't. From now on, going forward...she would look for, and wait for...the right opportunity.
Exactly what that looked like, though...well, that wasn't obvious yet. The right moment, that is, to let him know. Or...exactly how to say it even when/how that moment came along, or how she'd recognize it...
"...Definitely need to bring Pelesaria down here someday soon . She'd have a total ball with a place like this, chock-full of Remnant Tech.."
Great..
This is all getting me so nervous, I've stopped my own mental chess game...
Good Lord...keep it the heck together, Harper..!
" I would've actually...but, she needs to learn more of the ways of a Team Player first ", agreed Scott. " Too much of a loose cannon..."
" For sure..."
Smooth...
It was, though ! He doesn't know...
...Does he ?
The question lingered...and Cora knew for certain that it would keep coming back on its own...just like everything else that had to do with this " relationship that doesn't exist yet at all whatsoever " business. It would keep coming back , over and over and over ( with the only control Cora knew she had over it consisting her maintaining that discipline during combat and/or a crisis situation ) till it was fully taken care of.
Speaking of which...remember how you wondered if he's " onto you ", so to speak ? If he knows...
..Course he doesn't. How could he ? He just showed he doesn't know...so...
..Yeah. Ok. Its ok ! Men generally aren't wired for detecting social cues- its ok. That's why its on girls to let them know..
...Just gotta get the details nailed down...that's all..
Yeah...yeah, that's it .
Perfect-a plan...of sorts, anyway. Still it was better than nothing, and just for having it, Cora sensed a fresh dose of confidence joining with her.
After all...though she couldn't know how her eventual admission of " Hey...I think I love you " would be received-
...Love...
Most frightening word of the English language. Flip side, though, is someone you can share your life with, so...
Its the good kind of fear. If there is such a thing...
- she was certain- she knew- that she could do it. Eventually.
Soon enough.
But...there was one downside to all these new epinephrine...
Just one, though.
Just one, but had she noticed, it'd have changed the whole equation, and thrown it on its head. She hadn't, but...
...even so...
...Scott had still just glanced her way. Lingered on her for a moment..
...and then looked away. But, he had sent that glance.
Quick and short...but if Cora had spotted it...she'd have realized that:
It mirrored her own.