Normandy SR-2, 2185, Lazarus cell, Medical bay
"What Year is it?" Max inquired.
To Shepard it seemed quite the trivial question, but she answered all the same.
"2185. Why? You expecting something different?" The commander asked, chuckling
Max was in utter disbelief. 2185? That couldn't be right. In 2185, humanity had never encountered extraterrestrials, had few starships, and possessed no armor systems or weapons like the woman in front of him did. Yet, he could hear no hint of deception in her voice. He knew that despite how much he wanted to believe it, he had not been taken back to the past. Realizing he had not responded to the woman, he promptly did so.
"Yes..." Max said, the word tasting like copper on his tongue, it's entailments weighing heavily on his mind.
"May I ask what?" Shepard asked, the concept of a time traveler inflaming her inquisitive mind with possibilities.
Realizing the full gravity of the situation, the Spartan III let out a large sigh. The evidence was laid out in front of him, clear as day. He was no longer in his world, or at the very least, an extraordinarily vast distance from it. Not knowing why, he slowly answered her question.
"2557" The armored woman's jaw had practically hit the floor, along with the rest of those behind her. Max cared little if they believed him, he had told the genuine truth. There was really no point in lying, anyhow
"Max, are you sure that was the right call telling them that?" Kimbra asked her Spartan.
He ignored the trivial question, and resumed talking.
"If you wish to continue this conversation, I would prefer it in privacy" Max spoke affirmatively. The presence of these unknown beings did not help to put him at ease in the slightest.
"Umm, of course, follow me" Shepard replied. She turned to face her flabbergasted team, still tense from the hostile moments earlier.
"Alright everyone, dismissed" She said unevenly, the reason for her nervousness standing right behind her.
Atlanta Shepard was no soft woman, her life having had shaped her into the definition of hardened, rugged and strong. When she was no older than sixteen, Batarian slavers killed and enslaved her friends and family before her very eyes on Mindoir, her home-world. She enlisted in the Alliance at eighteen, desperate for a purpose, the sole survivor of the colony's attack.
Four years after she enlisted, she and her fellow marines saved the colony of Elysium from thousands of pirates and Batarian warlords. When she was the last one standing, she alone sealed off the breach to the city with nothing but a sniper rifle and her extensive knowledge of warfare for hours on end, buying time for the Alliance fleet to respond in kind.
She had been awarded the Star of Terra for her heroic actions that day, fully cementing her reputation as the best soldier in the alliance, and a survivor. She was Humanity's first specter, the woman who had stopped Saren and delayed the Reaper invasion, an unflinching savior of countless souls. Nothing could faze her.
Though this man just radiated pure danger and coldness. His aura screamed of a mythical lethality, coupled with unbridled skill and experience. For the first time in a long time, Shepard feared someone.
Her team quickly exited the room at Shepard's orders, all except Garrus.
"Hey, be careful Shepard, I don't like this guy" Her best friend whispered to her, the Turian's concern evident.
Shepard nodded in return, silently assuring him that she would be fine. He left, casting one last cautious glance at the man before he exited.
The commander looked back to him, and with a hesitant hand motion, she signaled the colossus to follow. He gathered his gear and weapons from the other table, and followed.
Shepard led him to the starboard observation deck, and sat down on the couch, signaling him to do the same.
He sighed
"That would be... Inadvisable." Max told her, he had little confidence that the furniture could hold his substantial weight.
"Actually it is built into the wall, it will hold" EDI's voice came up, monotone as ever.
Max did not seem surprised by the voice of EDI in the slightest, and sat down opposite of the woman. The padded seating groaned in response, but it held all the same.
"So, are you a time traveler?" Shepard asked bluntly. She had seen and done lots of crazy shit in the galaxy, arguably more than anyone else to have existed. She had the Prothean cipher in her mind, met and freed the last Rachni queen. She had seen through the eyes of an ancient nomadic Human on Eletania. She ventured to the legendary planet of Ilos, and talked to a Prothean V.I. She had spoke to and killed an actual goddamn Reaper.
And on top of that, She came back from the dead
This would be another addition to her long resume of insane things she had seen, if she were correct in her suspicions about the man in front of her.
"No, I am not." He responded curtly.
"Then how else were you expecting a year three hundred and seventy two years in the future?" Shepard asked, now severely confused.
Max did not answer her, not yet. He got up, swiftly walking over to the large window which was the main feature of the small room. He gazed at the serene, calm sight of endless stars lazily passing by, allowing himself a moment of respite from the conundrum he found himself in, however short it may be.
"Max, I've successfully hacked into the ships databases without being detected." Kimbra told the contemplating Spartan.
"Explain." He ordered in response.
"We're not in Kansas anymore to say the least. Damn near everything is different. While I'm not certain about where we are, I think we both know whats happened."
Max smothered the immense urge to shatter the window in front of him. Silent fury born of uncertainty was slowly welling up inside the super soldier.
He turned around, facing the woman who looked pretty perplexed, and rightly so.
"I doubt you would believe me if I told you." He uttered, not really in the mood to have to explain anything. The Spartan III was never one for conversation. He much preferred the solidarity of his own thoughts, rather than the words of others.
"I know that feeling, believe it or not. I won't judge you, no matter what you say." She said, a drop of sincerity in her voice
Max silently scoffed. Did she really believe that he was frightened of something so petty as misplaced judgmentalism? Perhaps she was more naive than she let on. But what did he have to lose at this point? He would... humor her, for now.
"Where I come from, Humanity was once an extremely prosperous race, with minimal warfare and conflict. At our civilizations height, we had colonized over eight hundred worlds. We believed ourselves the sole indomitable power in the universe, having never encountered any extraterrestrials, nor evidence of their potential existence. The cosmos belonged to us, and a promising path to success lay blazed ahead for all to follow."
Shepard was suddenly hypnotized, captivated by the short speech, and eager to hear more of it. To say the idea of humanity colonizing eight hundred worlds fascinated her was an understatement.
"What happened?" She asked, her curiosity completely unhidden.
"We had a rude awakening" He responded grimly.
Max was in no mood to tell her about the war which had been responsible for so much misery, atrocity and death. To Max, the end of the terribly malicious conflict was not a victory, but rather hard won survival. It was still all too fresh in his mind, and he had lost all but everyone close to him because of it. He was done with this pointless banter. He would much rather talk about the present than the past.
"You offered me a place on your team. May I ask why?" Max asked swiftly.
"Well, you did throw a Krogan over your shoulder, and possess weapons and armor systems like I've never seen. That armor you're wearing shouldn't be possible for any human being to even hope to wear. On top of that, you have an artificial intelligence somehow stored in your armor." Shepard answered bluntly.
She could tell when a person wanted or didn't want to talk, and it was painfully obvious what mood he was in. So, she cut right to the chase.
"I believe you would be an excellent addition to my crew, especially with the mission we're headed towards" Shepard told him, attempting to sway the man to join.
"What is this mission?" Max questioned, his curiosity peaked by her statement.
"A race known as the Collectors are abducting entire human colonies. We're gonna head to their base in the center of the galaxy, and blow it into a billion pieces" Shepard said confidently. While deep down she knew it was a suicide mission it there ever was one, there was no room for any doubt.
Max was shocked by the info dropped on him. Entire colonies being abducted, and a base in the center of the galaxy? He did not hear nor sense any deception in her voice. Perhaps she was was worthy of his respect after all. But he still needed more.
"And who are you?" Max asked. If he was to join this crew, he would need his commanding officers name.
"I'm commander Shepard, Alliance Navy. This is a Cerberus ship, however. Me and my crew are working with Cerberus to take down the Collectors." The way she said Cerberus made it seem as if she was dissatisfied with saying such things.
After a long minute of silence, filled with
"I know not of either faction, but you have proved yourself worthy of my trust so far, and your cause seems noble. I accept your offer... Commander. You have gained an ally." Max said to the now commanding officer he had willingly placed himself under.
He did not do so out of any true desire to join her outlandish team, but rather out of uncertainty. For the first time in his life, the decisions were his to make. While he had been in positions where there was no direct link to ONI or the UNSC, he still always had an objective to accomplish, and superiors to eventually report back to. But now... He was truly on his own. There was no ONI, no UNSC, no chain of command to answer to. It frightened him, in ways he had scarcely felt before.
While more than capable of being a leader, he usually preferred to follow rather than lead others. For the Spartan, it was easier on his hardened, yet traumatized soul. He was and would continue to be responsible for enough death, human and alien alike to last a hundred lifetimes. The thought of good men and women dying under his command weighed far too heavily on his scarred mind to allow it to ever become reality.
The augmented super soldier had fought across hundreds of battlefields, alone or accompanied by his human brethren. He ruthlessly killed with such prejudice and refined prowess it was legendary. And miraculously, he emerged out of each conflict alive
Though not always unscathed.
Every Spartan, II and III, had experienced and endured an ungodly amount of trauma throughout their realities, ever since they were mere children whose futures were heinously stripped from them. They're very existence was defined and molded by suffering, ruthless cruelty, loss so desolate and bleak that it was all but indescribable.
Their only solace was each other, all of them forming bonds of invulnerable camaraderie with one another.
Max was no exception to this, his calamitous past something that would follow him to the day he met his end. The soldier was truly scarred, and not just psychologically. His body held the forever steadfast reminders of his most savage battles. Plasma burns, bullet wounds, skin grafts, scars scattered across his torso. Like his mind, Max's physical being was an intricate web of wounds he had accumulated over his life as a Spartan.
And now it seemed that yet another perilous journey awaited his undetermined future.
'The fight never ends' Max sardonically told himself.
His only purpose in life was warfare, and so he excelled at it. There was nothing else for him in the universe, no other purpose to fulfill. He could not hold hope that fate held anything else besides strife in store for his future, he had surrendered the chance for a divergent path ever since he stepped foot on Onyx.
Every action he had taken, every life he took was for the greater collective good, to protect humanity, Earth, and all her colonies.
While his own humanity may be damaged, perhaps even gone, he could still protect that of others. Who was he to say that his duties should end now?
Shepard held out her hand, an offering of friendship.
Max accepted it, his much larger hand eclipsing her smaller one, and gave it a firm shake.
"I'll uphold that trust, you have my word." Shepard vowed candidly. She was beaming inwardly, knowing that a powerful ally had been gained.
"I never caught you're name earlier, by the way." Shepard politely mentioned.
"You may call me Six, or Noble Six ma'am." Max responded evenly. He believed it fitting that if he were to be a part of a team once more, he should go by the call sign he bore during his short but chaotic time with Noble team.
Few had ever known his real name, and most who did were now deceased. While he trusted this woman, he did not place that much faith in her to truly answer the inquiry. She would have to earn the real answer if she wished to know it.
Shepard was about to comment on the obscure nature of his answer, but a sudden voice over the intercom stopped her.
"Commander, the Illusive Man just sent over the last three dossiers." The Normandy's pilot said in an unnaturally urgent tone that was out of character for his usual cheery demeanor.
"What's the matter Joker? You sound concerned." Shepard inquired.
"Well, I have good news and bad news, Shepard. The good news is that Tali was one out of the three dossiers listed. The bad news is that her file say's she might be dead, as her known location was on Haestrom, an old Quarian colony deep in Geth space." Joker clarified speedily.
Max made a mental note of the fact that Shepard's eyes considerably widened at this 'Jokers' statement. Whomever this Tali was, she evidently meant a great deal to her.
"Plot a course to Haestrom Joker, and I want to be there yesterday." Shepard ordered promptly. Tali was a good friend, and she would do everything in her power to help the young engineer, just like Tali would do for her.
"Yes ma'am" Joker replied eagerly, and cut the link.
Shepard looked up to the large man once more, this time without a question, but more of a request.
"Well... Are you combat ready, Noble Six?" Shepard asked her mysterious, very recently inducted teammate.
"Affirmative, ma'am." Max answered stoutly. His MJOLNIR MKVII was reading green across all systems, and had an adequate supply of ammo for his weapons to last a couple operations, if he used it conservatively.
However dissimilar this new world he found himself in may be, it was not surprising that conflict was still prominent. In an odd, perhaps bizarre way it relieved the Spartan III. While he knew conflict bred catastrophe, Max couldn't help but feel reassured at the fact he still held purpose.
"Well, I'd say we have around an hour before we arrive in the Far Rim. Do you have any preferences for where you'll be staying on the ship?" Shepard asked Six.
"What is available?" He asked in return.
"Well, this observation deck is free, as well as life support. If you want, you could also take the shuttle bay, seeing as its mostly empty space."
While Max would have preferred an armory of some sort, he would make do. While the large window in the observation deck was quite pleasant, it was a structural weakness which Max did not desire to be near. The area was also somewhat small, so it wasn't ideal. He imagined the life support room was similar as well.
"I suppose the hangar bay will be adequate." Max told her, making his choice.
"Well you're free to make changes to the area, just don't do anything too drastic or anything that interferes with the shuttle. Get situated as best you can, and meet me in the briefing room in forty five minutes." Shepard ordered.
"Understood ma'am" With that, Max gave a firm salute, and quickly exited the room.
"Well that was interesting." Kimbra's voice came up in Max's helmet.
"Do you have any new info?" Max questioned as he entered the elevator.
"Every bit as I could get without scuffling with this Ship's A.I." Kimbra said, slight vexation protruding her tone.
This 'EDI' Kimbra had encountered was nothing like she had ever seen. While most definitely an Artificial Intelligence, it seemed to operate of a completely different set of rules and protocols. Like something or someone had flipped the book of all understanding about A.I. upside down and switched around every letter. It's behavioral patterns were unique, and showed evidence of a slowly developing personality. But what fascinated Kimbra most was it's code. It somehow showed signs of extreme age that shouldn't be possible, perhaps even eons ancient. Yet, it seemed all the same like it was created mere minutes ago. Like it was in some sort of ceaseless, infinite state of slow paced evolutionary change and improvement.
It truly perplexed Kimbra, and she would do anything to find out more about the fellow A.I.'s origin.
"Prepare multiple files for various topics, I want it organized well and sent to my TACPAD." Max ordered while descending down to the shuttle bay. He wished to learn as much as possible before arriving at Haestrom. An ignorant soldier was a doomed one, after all.
"Done. I highly suggest you read the info I compiled on the Geth first. Knowing that they'll be where we're headed, you should know what they are." Kimbra told Max.
"Of course" He responded, now walking into the shuttle bay. While it seemed the most logical choice, his mind was still far too blurry and unbalanced to be a hundred percent focused. He could still not fully comprehend what was going on, nor come to terms with what little he did.
And it irked the Spartan like nothing else had before.
He was simply not prepared for such a mental rollercoaster, and the ride was not even close to it's peak. It didn't matter how hardened he was throughout his life, there was simply no substitute for experience in his predicament.
He could only hope to drown out the feelings which threatened his very sanity. And the only way he knew he could was with raw, pure, absolute conflict. Something he expected would soon be his. Max did his best to allow the thought to give him a semblance of focus and reassurance. It was all that was keeping the soldier together at this point.
The shuttle bay was slightly smaller than he expected, and was mostly empty space as Shepard told him. It wold still suit his needs, and he already had a few ideas to better improve the area. If he was to stay here for an extended period of time, he should upgrade to his own requirements.
Max walked over to the table in of bottom right corner of the expansive area, and set down his weapons for inspection.
As it was, Max possessed one M395 DMR, one M45E shotgun, and one M6H magnum. He had an ample ammo supply for all three firearms, as well as the old Type-1 energy sword he carried with him ever since the Battle of Installation 04. for explosives he had four standard issue UNSC fragmentation grenades, and two Type-1 plasma grenades. While Max would have liked more options for his load-out, it would have to make do for now.
"Kimbra, this ship possesses an armory, yes?" The Spartan asked his A.I. after some reading on the 'Geth'.
They were a machine race built by the species known as Quarians, who rebelled against their creators after the Quarians attempted to eradicate them as they became self-aware. This backfired terribly for the Quarians, with horrific consequences. Drastically underestimated by their creators, the Geth retaliated with outright genocide, killing nearly a trillion of their makers in less than year, leaving only a meager few million left, less than one percent of their original population.
Driven off their home planet and colonies, the few survivors were forced to wander the galaxy as nomads, aimlessly in an ancient massive fleet, waiting for the day they could finally return home. And amazingly to Max, this happened a little over three hundred years ago. Whilst this worlds Humanity was reaching new heights in the industrial age, opposite the black, expansive void of galaxy, a brutally violent holocaust was occurring. It was quite disheartening, and even Max's hardened, desensitized soul felt a nudge of sympathy for them. After all, his species had suffered an all too similar fate.
"Yes, on deck two. Though you may need to get acquainted with these people's weapons. They are quite unique, to say the least." Kimbra answered, a tinge of excitement lacing her voice, and knocking Max out of his contemplating stupor.
"Elaborate." Max ordered as he grabbed his weapons off the table.
"I think you'll have to see it to believe it" She responded playfully.
This A.I. truly bewildered Max. How Kimbra seemed so utterly calm and collected that she could speak in such a mirth coated tone in spite of their predicament, was beyond the Spartan's realm of understanding.
He walked into the elevator once again, noting it's rather lethargic speed.
Once it arrived, he quickly walked over to the close by armory.
The door automatically opened, revealing an expansive room which surely held the promise of new weapons and information to explore.
The first thing Max noticed was a dark skinned man he recognized from earlier in the med bay. He was focused on a terminal, and if he noticed Max's entrance, he didn't show any signs of caring.
To the right were several tables, each one home to multiple odd looking rifles and sidearms.
Max approached them, decilately picking up one which had an M-8 boldly plastered on each side of its frame. After a short inspection, he found it had what seemed to be two integrated stacked barrels, a small inbuilt scope on top, and a relatively basic stock and pistol grip.
What was intriguing about the weapon was that upon first seeing it he theorized it be a bull-pup rifle, but there was no slot for an insertable magazine in the stock, nor anywhere else. It was perplexing and unique, just like Kimbra had told him it would be.
"Never seen a rifle like that before, huh?" A voice behind Max spoke curiously.
Max set the weapon down, and turned to face the man. It was the man he noticed moments earlier, and he had a small grin on his face.
"Jacob Taylor, Armory Officer and biotic operative." He introduced himself amiably, and extended his hand.
Max accepted it, and gave it a solid shake.
"Noble Six. I was just... trying to make sense of this weapon here. What is it's ammunition?" Max inquired awkwardly, not used to having to ask questions of such nature.
Jacob seemed happy to explain.
"The M-8 avenger, like nearly all weapons onboard and abroad is a micro-scaled mass accelerator. The gun shaves a sand grain sized projectile from a block of metal from inside the weapon, and via mass effect fields which decrease its mass, shoot the projectile at supersonic speeds." Jacob explained easily, firearms being one of his fortes.
"So for most engagements the ammo supply is virtually unlimited"? Max asked, with an equal amount of surprise and disbelief at the very concept.
"Well, it used to be like that, but it changed about a year or so back. See, the way to deal with the excess heat was with a heatsink, but that limited the maximum rounds per minute you could fire. It was also realized in the Geth crisis that one of the best ways one side could win a firefight was by getting as many shots down range as fast as possible, because the Geth used what is now known as a thermal clip system. After analyzing their weapons tech, we found that instead of using heatsinks, the geth used devices which would soak up the heat and then be discarded, allowing for another one to be inserted into the weapon. Shortly after this discovery, the Alliance implemented thermal clips in all weapon systems, and all other species and factions followed suit." Jacob clarified speedily.
"So the weapon has a function to prevent the requirement for a cooldown, but it no longer houses a heatsink?" Max asked, disappointed.
It seemed that these people had a found a true way for nearly limitless ammo, and discarded it for what was essentially limited ammunition. It truly was odd.
"Pretty much, but discarded thermal clips can be found scattered everywhere on most battlefields, and they are usually reusable. So it's a little more forgiving then you would think." Jacob said, attempting to ease the noticeable disappointment that oozed from the Spartan's tone.
"So, how well stocked is this armory?" Max asked, intent on becoming familiar with it's weapons.
"As present, we have many M-8 Avengers, M-15 Vindicators, M-96 Mattocks, and two M-76 Revenants, for the rifle section. For shotguns, we have several M-22 Eviscerators, M-23 Katanas, and M-27 Scimitars should you feel like getting up close and personal. For sniper rifles, we have a few M-29 Incisors, M-92 Mantis's, and M-97 Vipers. For pistols we're decently stocked, With multiple M-3 Predators, M-5 Phalanx's, and M-6 Carnifex's. For submachine guns we have several M-4 Shurikens, M-9 Tempests, and three M-12 Locusts. And lastly, there is the heavy weapons." Jacob finished, grinning at the latter category mentioned, and walked over to the two tables in the left corner of the room, both laden with large objects.
Of course, Max was not familiar with any of the items mentioned, but they sounded and looked adequate enough, he supposed.
"Here, we have the fun part." Jacob presented happily.
Max looked them over, noting their unique size and variety in design.
"They seem impressive" Max spoke seriously.
"They surely are. While Shepard is usually the only one who uses them, I think you could be the exception big guy. Any one of them pique you're interest?" Jacob asked.
Max inspected them, looking for any particular interesting ones to catch his eye.
In the middle was a lengthier one, with a green, black, and nickel color scheme, along with a wide cone shaped barrel.
The Spartan delicately picked the weapon up, the eyes behind his visor closely inspecting it.
"Good choice there. That's the ML-77 Missile launcher." Jacob told him, not seeming surprised by the Spartans interest in the weapon.
Before any more words could be exchanged, a calm, somewhat monotone voice seamlessly made it self known over the intercom.
"Noble Six, you're presence is requested in the briefing room." It spoke quietly, and cut out.
"Whelp, best not keep the commander waiting. But when you get back, we could pick up here if you wish." Jacob offered, sounding slightly annoyed by the interruption.
Max nodded, his answer, but he had one thing to ask before he left.
"May I take a sidearm with me?" He did not have a large supply of the 12.7x40mm explosive rounds which his M6H magnum used, and he wished to conserve it.
"Oh sure, we have plenty." Jacob said, and shortly after he handed a Max a standard issue M-6 Carnifex, along with a fistful of thermal clips.
Max took his magnum off the maglock on his right thigh, an set it down on the table, along with the five 8-round magazines he had for it. The carnifex was heavier, he noted as he set it to his maglock.
"I trust these will be safe here?" He asked firmly.
"Of course, it'll be right here. Good luck on whatever Shepards got in store for you." Jacob answered lightheartedly.
With that, Max left the armory and swiftly made his way to the briefing room.
Upon entering, he -saw Shepard, fully armored as before, along with two other individuals, all three gathered around a wide, square like oakwood table.
Next to Shepard was the slightly lanky, avian like creature he remembered from earlier. Its build, features and jaw reminded Max of the evolutionary link between birds and the ancient dinosaurs of Earth. It's armor's color scheme was blue and black, similar to his own. The armor in question was damaged, a portion on the right side of the upper collar seemed to have been blown off, black scorch surrounding the wound. The avians plated face was heavily scarred on the right side as well. In all probability this was most likely due to an explosion. It seemed to carry itself confidently, and eyed Max with a wary glare.
Across the table was a woman Max also recognized from earlier. She wore a skin tight ivory colored suit, contrasted by inky black hair, along with faintly pale, creamy white skin. Similarly to the avian, she held herself with a collected confidence, and peered at Max with what looked to be discontent.
Due to their training, past, and in the Spartan II's cases, augmentation, Spartans minded little for the sexual attractiveness of others, and even lesser on what such things entailed. Despite this, Max could appreciate that this woman was quite easy on the eyes, as he heard say marines say in reference to the fairer sex.
"Six, you get settled in?" Shepard questioned upon seeing his rather silent entrance.
He merely nodded in response.
"Well, good. This is Miranda Lawson, my second in command." She said, dipping her to head to the women opposite of the table.
This Miranda did not say anything, but the skeptical look she bore towards him did not change in the slightest.
"And this is Garrus Vakarian, the ships resident marksman along side me, and a good tech specialist. He's going to be joining us on the mission to Haestrom." Shepard said with a smile.
The avian gave the Spartan a small nod, a slight gesture of respect, which Max hesitantly returned.
"How long until we arrive?" Max asked the commander.
"We already have, but we've run into some problems." Miranda answered for Shepard, a light Australian accent seeping through her words.
"Yes, problem one is that the Geth have two frigates in orbit above Haestrom. In most scenarios this wouldn't be an issue due to the Normandy's stealth drive. But in order to get boots on the ground, we have to take the shuttle, and it has no such tech. Problem two, is that this systems sun is maturing into a red giant, and its magnetic eruptions, combined with highly increased solar output, overwhelm nearly any type of radio communications. The Geth have seemed to have overcome this, but it's unclear how they've compensated." Shepard explained in a calm manner.
"Do we have a solution for this?" Max inquired.
"Yes, but it's definitely risky. See, the Geth on the surface are doing their best to wipe out the Quarians who came there unannounced, to say the least. And so the frigates in orbit won't be expecting any type of retaliation, and are merely just sending in drop-ships to replenish whatever casualties they sustain on the ground. While they're preoccupied, we come in and hit them where it hurts with the thanix cannon. We'll only be able to destroy one in the first salvo, and hopefully take out the second before it can realize whats going on. But if it does, we're in for a lengthy dogfight, because the stealth drive's rendered null upon firing weapon systems. Assuming this all goes to plan, we take the shuttle down to the surface and rescue Tali and any other survivors." Shepard finished explaining.
After a short pause and some contemplation in Max's mind, he spoke up.
"May I propose a slightly different approach, commander?" He asked respectfully.
"I'm all ears, Six. Speak your mind." She answered.
"If this ship is able to hide itself from enemy detection then you would be able to position it right over the atmosphere, correct?" He asked quickly.
"Yes." Shepard answered.
"Then due to the advanced nature of my MJOLNIR Mark VII, I would be able to successfully conduct an atmospheric entry, and be on the ground quickly. The Geth frigates would most likely notice this, and perhaps attempt to eliminate or observe and scan me. This would give the ship ample time to rapidly destroy both vessels, and allow you to safely land." Max said, simplifying his proposition.
Shepard, along with the others, seemed flabbergasted.
"Let me get this straight, you're offering to fall from space?" Miranda asked, seemingly confounded
Max nonchalantly nodded in reply.
Shepard seemed at a loss for words
"Wow, they've really got no clue huh?" Kimbra voiced her thoughts with a small chuckle. While she might've known the true, astounding capabilities of a MJOLNIR clad Spartan III, the others in the room were entirely ignorant of such things.
"How would you survive?" Shepard finally questioned, just as confused as Miranda.
"I have done so in lesser armors before, commander. You have my word that I am telling the truth. I have no intention of unwittingly killing myself." Max spoke firmly, though understanding of her skepticism.
Max's new armor was created with un-assisted atmospheric entry in mind, with a superior titanium alloy outer shell which had an increased melting point, capable of withstanding temperatures up to four thousand degrees. This was mainly because of the advanced tungsten and ultra ceramic layering incorporated with the main titanium-a plating. Another useful feature was that the armor possessed a limited ability to manipulate the shape of it's energy shields, enabling the wearer to surround the front of their body, resisting the extreme heats to ensure the users increased survivability.
"Well, get down to the hangar bay, and I'll radio you when it's all ready to go. Oh, speaking of which, do you need our frequency?" Shepard asked.
"Kimbra" Max whispered simply.
"Done" She said instantly.
"No need ma'am, I already possess it" Max answered.
"Ok then. I hope you know what you're doing Six. I'm trusting you on this, so get it done. That's an order." Shepard commanded the Spartan. She seemed confident that his plan would work, which he appreciated.
Max once again went inside the lethargic elevator. It's lackluster speed was quite bothersome to the Spartan, but he just dealt with it.
Once arriving in the hangar, the super soldier instinctually did a basic weapons check, making sure his gear was secure and clean. He decided to leave the designated marksman's rifle behind, deeming the weapon too valuable to risk it's destruction from what was certain to be a violent landing.
"One basic M45E shotgun, and a pistol that you've never even fired before. This is bound to be interesting." Kimbra remarked upon the Spartan's odd choice of weapons.
"We'll make do. Do you have the coordinates for the LZ?" Max asked his A.I.
"Yes, when we jump, let me do the work with the thrusters, lock your armor when I tell you to, and we should land close to where this 'Tali' is." She said straightforwardly.
With that, Max and the A.I. diligently waited.
"He's going to do what?" Joker exclaimed upon hearing his commander's explanation of the new plan.
"You heard me Joker, It's simple enough on your part, and it should work out just fine." Shepard deadpanned.
"I know, but, atmospheric entry? In nothing but a suit of armor? Heh, guy sure is ballsy I'll give him that. Welp, ready when you are Shepard." The outspoken pilot said.
Upon hearing the pilot's confirmation, she activated her helmet's built in communicator.
"Noble Six, are you ready?" She questioned.
"Affirmative" Was his response.
"Remember Six, when those bay doors open and you're free falling, communications most likely will be too scrambled for any relative coherency. Until me and Garrus land, you're on your own." She explained firmly.
"Acknowledged" He answered. For a man about to free fall onto a planet, he sounded unnervingly calm. Perhaps he really had done this before.
"Bay door's opening in five, four, three, two, one, godspeed Six." Shepard said, her parting words to the soldier.
"Godspeed Six" Shepard's voice declared in the Spartan's ear.
The bay doors opened, and Max nimbly lept out of the ship, and soon after he felt Haestrom's gravitational pull tug him downwards. Whomever the pilot was, he admired their perfect positioning.
Haestrom was quite an unsightly planet, no oceans or seas to speak of, and a rough surface dotted with blackish crater like landmarks. The rest of the surface was colored with a mix of a sickly green and light brown crust. Whatever value the grotesque planet possibly held, Max could not devise.
Soon enough, he felt his shoulder and calf thrusters activate, controlled by the A.I. quite literally in his head. His suit started to warm, heat starting to encompass the Spartans armor, small flames slowly building.
"We've got two vessels closing in on us quickly, it's the frigates." Max's A.I. informed, and soon enough, they appeared on both flanks of his peripheral vision.
Their design structure was quite idiosyncratic for a space faring vessel, the shape looking identical to a hornet about to strike, though there were no corresponding wings, and it's color scheme was a simple light black. It wasn't too far off from the phantom drop-ships the Covenant once used in design, though much thinner and longer overall.
He felt a sudden blast of intensified heat, realizing he had to have been close to terminal velocity by now.
The vessels did not attack, though they kept pace with the Spartan's decent, slowly getting closer on each side, perhaps attempting to sandwich the Spartan as he fell.
Suddenly, a white and orange blur flew across his line of sight, gone as quick as it came. Whatever it was, it was ludicrously fast. Max assumed it to be the Normandy, but he could not truly tell.
For some reason, Kimbra deactivated the MJOLNIR'S shields upon his jump, perhaps wishing to save them for the final and most dangerous stretch of the short journey.
Then at that moment, something spectacular happened.
A brilliant blue beam of unknown energy and origin rapidly flew across the expanse of the sky, viciously colliding with the frigate on his right.
The very core of the enemy vessel was torn asunder, exploding with a scintillatingly blinding haze, chunks of the once structurally sound ship chaotically flung in all directions. Whatever weapon the frigate was hit with, it was deadly.
"Spartan, lock your armor, now!" Kimbra suddenly screamed as they broke through clouds. The surface was now clearly visible, and closing in far too fast for comfort.
Max promptly did so, feeling the suit constrict and tighten around him as a result. Immediately after, his shields activated, the bright yellow barrier of energized particles shifting to surround and protect his forefront.
The frigate on the Spartans left immediately broke it's course, undoubtedly searching for it's destroyed ally's assailant.
Turning his attention back to the rapidly incoming surface, his eyes beheld that which did not bode well.
His predetermined landing zone was not that of soft dirt and shrubbery or time-worn rock.
But stone
Upon landing, Shepard and Garrus fluently exited the Kodiak shuttle with ease. Experience and training guiding their motions, they raised their weapons, but there was no threat, no Geth anywhere in sight to warrant their caution.
No operational Geth anyway. About ten feet away from the shuttle lay a cragged shallow hole in the stone surface, broken slabs of the antiquated material encompassing the entire area around the small pit.
But that was not what really caught Shepard's eye.
Broken, mangled corpses of Geth bodies lay scattered across flat expanse of the once Quarian colony. All sorts of different wounds and punctures in every machines metal frame, once formidable and advanced A.I. platforms now lay broken, discarded by their destroyer.
"This must've been where he landed." Garrus said aloud as he kneeled down to inspect one the broken Geth combat platforms.
It's entire upper torso was blown wide open, the armor plating completely eviscerated, jaggedly mangled from whatever weapon it was shot by. Even though it was a machine, the sight was still quite repellent, the white hydraulic fluid that aided the machines movement was splattered across the stone surface like blood.
Shepard was awestruck, amazed by what lay before her eyes.
"How could one man do this?" She asked in disbelief.
It was then Shepard came to a frightening understanding.
When he awoke on the Normandy, he could very well have easily slayed her teammates, as well as herself, and she could have been absolutely powerless to stop it. It was a haunting realization, and it sent chills down her spine.
Suffice to say, she was relieved that he was on her side.
Before any more words could be said, thunderous gunfire raged out in distance, the sounds seemingly beckoning them towards it.
The battle-bonded duo exchanged a glance, steeling themselves for the conflict they would no doubt soon be a part of.
With that they set off, following the trail of mangled corpses left behind like bread crumbs, surely leading to the distant fighting they sought.
As you might be able to tell, I'm feeling completely out of words at this point, so I'll make it quick.
While by no means do I feel some type of need or craving for attention, reviews do boost my morale and motivation to continue this story, so whether it's just a couple of words, good or bad, I greatly appreciate them, so please consider leaving a review, it helps me update quicker.
Secondly, if anyone is interested/willing to become a beta for this story, PM me, and we'll discuss it.
Thirdly, since some other writers list some songs they listen to, I'll do the same. Here's some songs that I listened to whilst putting this chapter together.
1. Everyone Else, by London Grammar.
2. The Show Must Go On, by Queen.
3. Salvation, by Tash Sultana.
Have a good day, and thanks for reading!