CONTENT WARNING: brief allusions to child abuse, canon-typical violence
Bona Aetas
Miranda clung to the wall of the narrow tunnel, just outside the entrance to the girls quarters. She had exchanged her knee-high boots for a pair of nondescript trainers and had removed anything that would make so much as a clink; a resonant, underground mine was not the place to be running in heeled shoes. She needed to be fast about her work—she wouldn't have much time before Jok snuck in his usual ryncol break—and it would be her only opportunity to recover her amp from the contraband locker.
Leaning over, she peeped through the door's porthole with one eye. The far-reaching room was dark, lit only by two strips of yellow lights that ran down the center and towards the door. Miranda decrypted the the lock in less than thirty seconds; Corporal Kamau's upgrades had ensured she was able to do it without alerting the security system.
The door slid open. Miranda held a hand to her nose, struck by the cold stink of musty bedding and squalid, sweat-stained bodies. Sheets rustled as some of the girls shifted in their beds, but none of them appeared to be awake. She stepped through without a sound. Slinking through the rows of bunks, she carefully inspected each girl, standing on tiptoes to see the ones who slept up top. The haunted masks they wore in the daytime had been replaced by innocent, sleeping faces; they did not possess the quality of peace—Miranda believed there was nowhere these children found peace—but of temporary escape. She wondered where they had come from and who their loved ones were and what their names were. When she found the one who looked to be the oldest, she grasped her shoulder and began to shake gently.
The girl stirred, then drew her arm away and shrieked, "DON'T TOUCH ME!"
"Hey, hey, it's alright, I'm not here to hurt you," whispered Miranda. She held her hands in the air to show she meant to no harm.
"I thought you were Mr. Montrose…" The girl sat up. Her eyes were still angry and red.
For a moment, Miranda saw Jack's fierce self-protection—the vitriol she often unleashed when she was feeling vulnerable. Miranda's stomach turned at the thought of what this girl might be so afraid of. Some of the other girls began to stir. They remained in their beds, perhaps unsure of what was happening or who was in the room.
"I'm not going to let him hurt you anymore. Or anyone else for that matter," Miranda said as she swiveled her head about the room. She turned back to the oldest girl. "My name's Miranda. What's yours?"
"Yasmin."
"I need your help, Yasmin."
The girl swung her legs to the edge of the bed. "Help? What kind of help?"
"I need you to gather as many of the other children as you can. Get some of the older girls to help round up the younger ones. I'm going to rouse the boys and find any stragglers. I need everyone to gather at entrance to the mine. Can you do that for me, darling?"
Yasmin nodded. Some of the other girls had begun to rise from their beds, overhearing her conversation with Miranda.
"Good. Now quick, quick! We're leaving this retched place."
The message sounded loud and clear throughout the ship: "GENERAL QUARTERS. GENERAL QUARTERS. ALL GROUND PERSONNEL, PREPARE TO DEPLOY." A bevy of syncopated steps criss-crossed the CIC as the crew rushed to get the house in order, taken aback by the early hours call-to-rescue.
James lumbered up and down the action stations. His heavy stride bucked the metal grates, directing all his misgivings down through his heels. They hadn't heard from Miranda for over forty-five minutes. Her signal had been intermittent, and they weren't sure if she had successfully assembled the children at the extraction point. He hoped she was able to reprogram the turrets and shield generators in time; attracting attention could cost lives, and surprise would be their most valuable asset.
Still struggling to make sense of the code, Corporal Kamau worked at deactivating the control devices. She wrinkled her nose and let out a defeated snort. "I'm sorry, Commander. It is taking longer than expected to parse out this last section. I will work as quickly as I can."
"Damn it….we don't have long! Time's working against us here!" belted James. Fuck, chill man. She's doing her best. "Sorry, Corporal. Just do the best you can."
"Do you mind if I take a look?" asked Lieutenant Palmer, who was walking past on his way to the armory. "You're far cleverer than me, but it wouldn't hurt to have two pairs of eyes."
"Of course, Lieutenant."
Palmer slid into the station next to her and opened the file. "Which section?"
"Last page, two-three."
The commotion kept up around them—a cantata of chatter, soft beeping, and swishing doors that made James feel itchy. He couldn't say why. This was no different than the other urgent and critical missions they had undertaken in the last year. And the luxury of time was something they never had to begin with. He stopped pacing and stood between Kamau and Palmer, hands intertwined at the back of his head.
Fitzpatrick's voice crashed through the intercom. "Commander Vega, Mako's ready to go!"
"Understood, Fitzpatrick."
Kamau whipped her head toward James. "Sir, I think I have it!"
"Where?" Palmer rushed to her station and peered over her shoulder.
"This right here." Kamau pointed to the display. "I've run it through twice to be certain."
"Nice work." James nodded at her. "Once we get the signal from Ms. Lawson we're a go."
"Yes, sir."
As if his words had conjured the sound from the ether, a hiss and a crackle flickered through the commlink. Miranda's voice rose strong, "Aethon, this is Piper. Acknowledge."
A big relief. Spirits lifted once again, James answered, "Piper, this is Command—go ahead, Piper."
"All children accounted for and headed to extraction point. Ready to disable external security. On execute, you will have six-zero minutes before shields go down. This is the most I can give before the system detects the anomaly. Execute on your signal. Acknowledge."
A much bigger relief. "Piper, this is Command. Roger. Marking time. Prepare to execute in one-zero minutes."
"Roger. Piper out."
"That's it, we got 'er!" James instructed Specialist Lu to issue the warning.
The message over the ship-wide intercom changed abruptly: "ALL PERSONNEL, BATTLE STATIONS."
The bluster aboard the ship intensified as the crew rushed to take their places. The Normandy would need to be prepared to provide additional fire support or receive causalities if necessary.
"Come on, come on, come on!" said James, as he clapped boisterously. He darted for the elevator, his steps quick and light. "Let's hurry, people! Suit up and get out!"
With a panoply of armor and weapons secured, and helmet tucked tight under his arm, James boarded Kodiak One along with five soldiers under his command.
"Once we land, we need to be positioned and ready in twenty minutes. Palmer and Kodiak Two will have the east flank, we'll take the west. Fitzpatrick and Team Mako will come up from the south to complete the pincer," he said as the shuttle took off. "Any last minute questions, concerns?"
The team shook their heads, answering James with silence.
"Ok then. Good hunting, everyone."
The shuttle made its graceful fall through the darkness, bringing them to the drop point and close to a natural gully that ran half a kilometer up to the escarpment. Single file, James and his team scuttled along its narrow bottom, the loose, slippery rocks making it tough to go at a full clip.
Fitzapatrick's voice came through James' helmet. "Command, this is Mako. In position, over."
"Roger, Mako. Command out," he answered. He glanced back at his team, who had already slowed down too much for his liking. "Mako's already in position, everyone pick up the pace!"
As if swimming through a cloud, the soldiers' heads bobbed up and down through the dense mist that had settled in the gully. Private Santos, who was near the back of the line, lost his footing as he hurried to catch up to everyone ahead of him, slipping and falling into a puddle of mud.
"You alright there, Private?" asked de Luca, who had nearly run over him in the fog. He held his hand out to help him up.
Santos grunted as he thumped the outside of his boot with his fist. "Yeah, just tweaked it a little, I think. I'll be fine." Taking de Luca's hand, he got back to his feet, still a little wobbly as he hastened forward.
De Luca nodded and followed right behind Santos. When the team reached the mouth of the gully, James signaled for them to take positions. De Luca was the only one sat outside the pass. He had scrambled up the short, steep incline to perch behind a trio of broad boulders and set his rifle between them for maximum cover. Peering through his scope, he saw the lookout towers—east and west—three turrets, and an array of redundancy barriers placed throughout the rocky flats that fronted the escarpment. He conveyed this information to the team, and James set about readying them for attack.
"All units, this is Command. Kodiak One in position. Report status, over," he said in a hushed voice.
"Command, this is Kodiak Two. Kodiak Two taking positions, over."
"Roger, Kodiak Two."
"Command, this is Mako. Mako in position and ready, over."
"All units, prepare for shields down in one-zero minutes. Snipers ready, execute to follow. Out."
The team waited in silence as time passed in sluggish digits across their displays. Remaining alert, they scanned the landscape in all directions for any signs they may have been compromised or otherwise detected. James tilted his head up. There were only stars and the night sky, and the silhouettes of leaves from the sparse tree branches above. It felt like Earth, for a moment. The only thing missing was the sea.
James gave a visual cue to his team: one more minute. Tightening his grip on his assault rifle, he trained his eyes in the direction of the facility. Five, four, three, two… As Miranda had promised, the shields on the turrets, sniper nests, and main entrance shut down.
"All units, this is Command. Execute!"
Lieutenant de Luca, who had already lined up his first shot, put down the sniper in the west tower. The sound of another shot rang out from the east, and then two more as de Luca took out two snipers hidden at the top of the escarpment. Quick and easy kills meant less chance their presence would be reported.
"Command, this is Kodiak Two. Enemy snipers down, over."
"Roger, Kodiak Two. Mako, this is Command. Proceed forward, over."
"Roger, Command."
The familiar whir of the Mako's engines arose from the south. Stones crackled beneath its treads as it bore closer to the entrance, then stopped all together when the vehicle rolled to halt two hundred meters from the entrance. James waited for communication from the Mako team. But instead of Fitzpatrick's voice, a fulsome blast pierced the silence. The ground trembled. It was succeeded by the BOOM of a cannon, then the rapid stuttering of a heavy machine gun—tatatatatatatatatatatata!
"SHIT! Turrets are still live!" shouted James as the offending turret exploded. "Mako, this is Command. Repeat on remaining turrets, IMMEDIATE!"
James signaled for his team to be ready. While the mercenaries might not have noticed dead snipers right away, they would certainly notice their turrents being blown to pieces.
Just as the Mako had successfully dispatched the second turret, the heavy blast doors cracked opened, wide enough for a stream of mercenary soldiers to pour through two-by-two. With ballistic shields in hand, they stood in formation along the length of the entrance as more mercs filed through behind them. The last turret fired at the Mako, striking it head on. The vehicle's wheels spun to escape but it was backed onto a ridge.
"Sir, I can hack the turret!" yelled Kamau.
"Do it!" James yelled back.
Kamau clawed her way out of the gully, joining de Luca behind the boulders. She was already halfway done by the time James advised the Mako team to hold fire. Kamau returned to the safety of the gully as the lone turret made a one-hundred-eighty degree turn and pointed itself toward the mercenaries standing along the blast doors.
"All units, this is Command! Hold positions!"
The mercenaries had already begun to scatter, but it was too late for some as the turret open fired on them, rocking the blast doors. Others took cover behind redundancy barriers to escape danger. It wouldn't be long before the mercs retook control of the turret. James made the decision to move forward and instructed Kamau to shut the turret down. A shower of sparks sizzled in the dark as Kamau overloaded it, followed by a burst of flying metal as the Mako finished it with its mounted cannon.
"All units, forward!" commanded James.
The two foot-teams breached the edge of the expanse. They surged in the direction of the doors, their footfall swift and economical, their trajectory calculated. An elite soldier is in peak condition. He doesn't hesitate or stumble. James lead the way and took cover behind what remained of the turret. Shots fired past as the snipers concentrated on picking off the unguarded stragglers close to the entrance.
James peered around the corner for his next cover. A lanky merc, who had been laying low, caught sight of him and charged. James stumbled back. Unhoned and underpowered, the merc's biotics had barely touched his shields. James stood tall with assault rifle in hand and smirked. The merc shook his head in a daze. Amused at the merc's incompetence, James let a spray of fire loose into his wispy gut.
Lieutenant Palmer's voice piped in as James sprinted for a nearby barrier. "Command, this is Kodiak Two. Count seven to niner hostiles east of doors. We can take care of them. Over."
"Acknowledged, Kodiak Two! Continue east flank. Kodiak One will continue west flank—"
Before James could finish, Private Santos' shouted "Commander! Three o'clock!"
An offensive drone had floated in from high above and began to fire. James rolled out of the way, with the drone quickly dispatched by Santos' assault rifle.
"Good eye, Santos!" he shouted back. "I owe you!"
The team made their way through the rest of the scattered mercenaries, most of whom seemed oddly unskilled and inexperienced. It didn't take long before Kodiak One and Kodiak Two converged on either side of the blast doors.
"Well that part didn't go as planned, but nice work everyone," said James as the team approached each other.
"Have we heard from Ms. Lawson, sir?" asked Palmer.
"Nothing. Radio silence since we left the ship." James keyed into Miranda's encrypted channel.
"Piper, this is Command. Requesting location, acknowledge."
"Piper, this is Command. Do you read me? Over."
"Piper, do you read? Over."
Silence.
There it was again, that nagging feeling. James tried to reason with himself. Her signal was shit before. She's in an underground mine. What did you expect, genius?
"No answer. Ok, let's keep going," he said to the ground team. He spoke into his commlink. "Mako, this is Command. Mako Team One, disembark and proceed to the ventilation shaft. Mako Team Two, remain with the vehicle. Over."
"Roger, Command."
James gave the signal to proceed. The unit crept up to the threshold, snaking past the bodies of dead mercenaries, their shields and weapons cluttering the ground like common litter. De Luca narrowed his eyes as he edged around the body of an unusually petite merc. He toed the blood spattered helmet. The merc's head lolled to one side, revealing the other side of his face, which was slim and clean shaven. "Sir…some of these mercs—I don't think they're acutally mercs…"
Corporal Kamau stopped and squatted, studying the approximate height and weight of several bodies around her. "Young teens, if I am not mistaken," she said, her voice strangled.
The unit gazed about in stunned silence as a hitched breath forced the air from James' throat. "Fucking hell! I knew this was too easy!" He thumped his chest. The image of the lanky boy shaking his head replayed in his mind. He had almost laughed before he pelted the kid—before he killed him. "This asshole is using them to play army? Using them for fodder?"
Palmer picked up a loose Carnifex that had fallen from one of their hands. "And all this fancy gear. I wager these kids could barely run in this armor. It's grotesque," he added.
James took heavy breaths, trying to reassure himself that he had no way of knowing in the heat of the moment. "Alright folks. This shit just got darker. We're gonna end this—now."
Jean-Louis pounded on the door of Montrose's personal quarters. "Mr. Montrose…" He'd tried contacting Montrose via internal comms but he hadn't answered. "Mr. Montrose! Mr. Montrose, there's been a breach at the main facility doors!"
When Montrose still didn't answer, Jean-Louis set to opening the doors manually, but found they had already been opened. He pried the doors apart and sidled into the room. The velvet curtains surrounding Montrose's bed had been drawn back, revealing a muddle of bedding and rumpled pillows, with what appeared to be Montrose entirely covered with a sheet. A stubby hand adorned with two rings dangled from beneath. Mouth hanging open, Jean-Louis rushed to the bedside and tore the bedding away. Sebastian Montrose lay prone, his head turned to one side. His eyes were wide and flooded with blood, and purple petechiae peppered his skin like clusters of deathly stars, his face stony and blue. And around his neck, a thick, black belt was wound in a tight coil.
Jean-Louis lifted Montrose's head and unwound the belt, removing it to examine it carefully. This style, with its y-shaped strap and large metal ring, could only belong to one person. She was one of the few personnel with access to the area. As Jean-Louis brought his arm up to contact security, there was a sudden rush of air behind him. A shield of violent, biotic energy warped around his body, knocking him to the ground immediately.
Miranda slunk out from behind the wardrobe like a clever and wary cat. She knelt down to check the assistant's body for signs of life. Satisfied he was a goner, she pried her belt from his clenched fist.
She contacted James right away. "Command, this is Piper. Requesting evacuation of victims. What is your status? Advise, over."
James cut in abruptly. "This is Command! Contact with hostiles!" The roar of a biotic explosion resounded through the commlink. "Piper, proceed to evacuation point—"
"Command, this is Piper. Acknowledge..."
"Command, do you read?...Command?" Shit.
Securing her belt back around her waist, Miranda glared down at Montrose's bruised and bloated body. "Good riddance, asshole."
Author's note: WHEW! I am soooo relieved to have this posted. Believe it or not I started working on this chapter before finishing the last one. It just took me a long time to figure out what I wanted to focus on. The actual writing took a while since I'm a lot slower when it comes to action. Anyway, hopefully someone enjoys this molasses 😂 Thanks for reading!