Nos Astra, Illium, Tasale System, 2185
Max's rifle roared with each shot it fired, every round finding its mark as the Spartan squeezed the trigger.
The request of the Justicar had been simple. Find the name of the ship her quarry had fled on, and her code would permit her to join them. But as always, the devil was in the details. In order to gain the name of this vessel, violence was necessary.
Max couldn't complain.
The three comrades fought high above the clouds, fighting through waves and waves of the guns for hire that stood between them and what they needed. Atop the skyscraper, its complex floors ran blue with asari blood as trio cut their way through the mercenaries, giving no quarter nor mercy. Their objective was near, across the small cargo area and down a corridor which led the way to the mercenaries headquarters. The cargo bay was laden with crates, undoubtedly filled with illicit substances and other contraband. There were no windows and few walls, a wide and long bridge connecting two separate sky walks.
Once he understood their tactics and abilities, Max soon found it rather simple to fight these mercenaries. While well equipped and bolstered with the assistance of mechanical cannon fodder, they had little discipline and poor leadership. It was clear that their organization was centered around criminal activities, not large scale, drawn out battles of attrition.
Still, they fought as tenaciously as they could. Every inch gained was hard earned, the mercenaries desperately fighting to stave off their advance.
Shepard was forced under cover as a hail of gunfire was dumped overhead, their enemies clearly recognizing her as the leader. Her face being known across every corner of the galaxy made this unsurprising, but still irritating to the first human spectre. Tali and Max found themselves in a similar position behind a shipping crate. They were bombarded by waves of mechs, the white colored machines undeterred by how many of their kind fell, marching forwards.
Their seemingly unending supply of robots these mercenaries had was exhausting, the only reason their advance was slowed. As the Spartan reloaded his rifle, a black, cylinder like object rolled into the Spartans peripheral vision, trailing smoke in its wake. Immediately recognizing the danger, Max immediately grabbed the quarian to his side, shielding her body with his own as he bolted out from cover. The ensuing explosion was fierce, throwing the pair with considerable momentum as the Spartans shields were pierced, barely staving off deadly shrapnel. Their enemies took notice, and repositioned themselves to fire upon their disheveled adversaries.
Still grasping Tali close to himself to guard her, Max ran to the nearest crate as Shepard did her best to take the pressure off of her squad. As he sprinted Max felt a sharp pain in his side, right before taking refuge behind the container. He carefully let go of the quarian, looking over her to make sure she was uninjured. Max then hazarded a look at the source of his pain, blood trailing out from one of the gaps in his Mjolnirs plating. A lucky shot had landed, piercing the undersuit and digging deep into a rib.
Max let rage coat his senses, the desire to kill further flooding his mind as the familiar thirst for violence took over. Glancing at his motion sensor the Spartan made a mental note of the layout, seeing that Shepard had done an admirable job of thinning enemy numbers in the meantime.
Rifle in hand Max burst out from around the crate, instantly popping the heads of three security mechs before directing his aim towards the multiple asari who kept Shepard pinned across the other end of the bridge. Three shots to break the barriers, a fourth for the killing blow. Only one of the blue humanoids was able to avoid her comrades grisly fate, wisely fleeing into the nearby corridor as Max reloaded his now empty rifle.
"That was too close." Kimbra voiced in his ear, as if a mother was scolding her child. The way she talked to the Spartan left him both dumbfounded, and annoyed.
Tali and Shepard quickly took out the last of the scattered mechs around the area, building off of the Spartans rapid momentum as he stood at the foot of the bridge.
Shepard found herself being more and more impressed by Six with each passing moment. The way the warrior fought was second to none, as if trained by the gods of war themselves. He made killing look not like the grim business it was, but an art form perfected. She had seen no weaknesses, observed no flaws in the way he moved and engaged their enemies with such proficient ruthlessness.
That is, until Shepard noticed the blood that slowly poured out from his body.
"Damn, you alright Six?" Shepard exclaimed as she ran up to him, Tali close behind.
Max looked down at the wound and as if on cue, he felt the miniature bio foam injectors within the gel layer isolate the entry point. The coagulant foam polymer felt like a hundred burning needles digging into the hole as it expanded, before finally numbing and properly sealing. It was merely one of the many miracles his armor possessed, but an important one nonetheless.
His response was a mere tilt of the head. Sure enough the bleeding had stopped, and the small tear in the undersuit had properly mended.
Before Shepard could even think on his lack of words, a shadow appeared into existence, ominously lording above all of them.
Turning around, the Spartans eyes were greeted with the sight of a gunship, weapons centered on the triad with ill intentions as it hovered over the sky walks edge.
His two teammates bolted to cover at the sight, while to their absolute astonishment, he just stood there, staring it down as if he were a statue.
After Shepard dived behind the nearest shipping crate, she bellowed at the unfazed man to get his ass to cover.
He did not heed her words. Shepard watched with dread as a missile was fired, straight towards Six as he still just stood in place, still as stone.
In that singular moment he was the antithesis of fear, made flesh.
Both women witnessed as he burst into action so quick it might as well have not happened at all, and the missile was sent flying, careening into the depths below before detonating in a flash of smoke.
Without a single pause he fired upon the hovering ship, like nothing had happened.
Recovering from their stupor the two women joined him in attacking the gunship as it veered to the right, attempting to avoid the torrent of bullets that were quickly depleting its shields. It wrapped around the the side of the building, vanishing as quick as it arrived.
"That was unnecessarily reckless, Spartan." The chastising voice of Max's A.I. said. She had feared for both of their lives when the one responsible for them merely stared at such danger.
Kimbra found herself becoming increasingly worried, since the start of their mission he was starting to become more and more truculent, disregarding his own safety as a whole. While her presence within his mind did not enable her to read his thoughts, she could glean from it his mood, his overall disposition. His heart rate, blood pressure, and brain activity were like clues to the Spartans thoughts.
It was abundantly clear that the only thing on his mind at the moment, was anger. Since the second she was inserted in his neural lace, there was always an underlying rage, a kind of muted fury that he carried with him every waking moment. And now, it was exasperated to an unprecedented height.
Like the previous times he did not respond, merely continuing on like she had never spoke to begin with.
Before she could further voice her annoyance at his silence, the gunship came around the building, intending to avenge it's previous failure.
As if a soaring dragon it rained down fire, spitting out lead and missiles from above while it soared through the air.
They responded in kind, three weapons whittling down the ships barriers as it just barely failed to do the same to them. The pilot had been hasty, unsuccessful in their rushed strafing pass. It's pilot desperately tried to escape, barriers on the edge of collapsing.
"Finish it off, now." Shepard ordered with steel over the comms.
One final torrent of bullets and the right engine was ablaze, the gunship spinning out of control in the sky. It slammed into the lower floors of the skyscraper, imploding in a blaze of orange fire, the cragged husk of the ships tail sticking out like a fresh wound. No
Max watched in silent satisfaction as the flames spread, content, if only for a moment.
But his satisfaction was short lived, as the relentless, pestilent voice of an intelligence that would just not stop talking, prattled on yet again.
"What has gotten into you!" Kimbra asked, sounding like a naive child.
Except it wasn't her naivety that irked Max so much, nor her talent for saying such inane things. If only that was where it ended.
The ghosts that followed the Spartan would never leave, he knew that. They would forever be at the forefront of his thoughts, his waking moments and dreams alike. He had accepted that long ago. He just had never thought that one of those ghosts would come alive to torment him.
Max had not truly known Miranda Keyes in a close manner, but he had respected her bravery and fortitude. Max was saddened when her end had came. She was like her father, a courageous soul, unafraid. She had been fierce, and clever. All of which Max came to respect in time.
She was one of the countless people he had seen fall. More than once had her memory brought the Spartan sorrow and regret.
Now here that memory was, speaking to him. Each word that came from her was as confounding as it was irritating. Kimbra was created from the dead womans essence, and it showed. Her voice, the form she took, the way a grin would sneak into her words at a pleasing moment. Her very soul a near carbon copy. It was unsettling, to see her face on his HUD, a cyan reflection of her... predecessor, Max supposed she could be called.
The only true difference was what one could call experience, whereas another might reduce it to the simplicity of personality. Regardless, it was there, the one distinguishing variance that he had clearly seen.
It was the innocence she carried, the jovial nature all young creatures possessed. That bubbly tone she spoke in, the shocked disposition she had shown at the deaths of others. Max knew that in time, it would be slowly stripped from her. Piece, by piece, just as it was stripped from him.
Like countless times before Max shoved such thoughts aside.
The squad pushed on, stepping over the corpses of their dead foes and mechanical husks.
"Well, am I taking point here or would you rather do that yourself?" Shepard asked Six once they neared the final room. It would soon be a dead end of sorts. Whomsoever was left of the mercenaries lay in wait there, prepared to make their stand.
"Zorah and I could push forward to draw their fire while you maneuver behind them, using your cloak to gain position. If that is acceptable, ma'am." Six suggested quickly. With a lifetime of strife ingrained into his being, such words came from a place of measure and experience.
Shepard considered it for a moment, before speaking. "You know what? That'll do." She decided as they rounded into one of the final hallways to find a stumbling, fat suited creature standing with its back turned to them.
They walked forwards, the short statured alien turning around only to walk face first into Shepard's leg.
The clumsy volus stumbled backwards, looking up at Shepard, an amused look on her face. volus were such an odd looking species, their body proportions hilariously unorthodox. Short, stubby limbs, combined with such spherical torsos, resulted in a rather bizarre appearance. The enviro suits they wore only exasperated this even further.
Interestingly, the volus became encompassed in a weak blue haze, a pitiful biotic field summoned by the tubby creature.
"I... I am a biotic god! I think things, and they happen! Fear me, lesser beings! For I am biotics made flesh." Said the round creature, it's delusional ravings making little sense. Shepard smiled, gazing upon the stumbling volus with an endearing expression.
"You need help." She said, barely containing a laugh.
"You need help!" The Volus slurred, dead serious yet totally unthreatening. Max heard the faintest giggle escape the quarian next to him at that, and somehow he couldn't blame her.
A stumpy, idiotic methane breathing creature was in front of the Spartan, this... places, equivalent of an Unngoy. Albeit far more unthreatening and fatter. He wondered if their methane tanks detonated the same way.
Max's right hand hovered next to his pistol, silently hoping it would make a wrong move and give him a reason to use it.
"The asari injecting so many drugs into me was terrifying, at first. But then? Then, I began to smell my greatness!" The Volus said, blissfully unaware of the idiocy it radiated. Unfortunately it didn't stop talking. It rambled on some more, each word delusional as the next. After a moment it turned around, facing the entrance ahead.
"The leader of these mercenaries is in the next room. I shall toss Wasea about like a rag doll!" It declared assuredly.
Shepard took a few steps, and gave the a Volus a light shove, making it fall over.
After a few moments it slowly got back to its feet. "What... what was I saying?" The Volus asked out loud.
"You said you were gonna go take a nap." Shepard spoke softly as it turned around.
"Oh, ok I'll... I'll destroy the universe later, I think." The alien said, slowly but surely walking away after.
"Huh, so much for godhood." Tali quipped with a laugh.
"Alright, stoned aliens aside we've got a job to do. The Volus mentioned their leader, Wasea. We'll try to reason with her. Six, Tali, you'll take point like we planned. If they don't immediately open fire ask them the name of the ship once you're inside. I'll cloak right before we enter, if they don't play nice, they'll regret it." Shepard explained confidently.
Max hesitated to respond. Not once had he ever been ordered to negotiate with an enemy. This was to be a new experience for him.
The Spartan quickly placed his rifle on its maglock. "Affirmative." He said after a moment of thought. Max figured he'd had worse dilemmas in the past, and that he'd get through it like all others before.
They took their positions by the door. As soon as Shepard vanished from sight, Max hit the holographic button in the center and the circular doorway gave way with a soft hiss.
Stepping through he saw her, standing behind a desk of sorts. Heavily armored, orange war paint on a pissed off face. She stood some distance away in the spacious room, crates, packages, containers of various shapes and sizes everywhere. This was their nest, as the detective had put it before.
The asari behind the desk sipped a red liquid from a glass, before directing her gaze towards the duo across from her.
"Everything's gone to hell since we smuggled that filthy creature off world. First a justicar shows up, and now you." She spat out, her tone as venomous as her expression.
Max glanced at his motion sensor. Shepard slowly moved at its edge, invisible to the naked eye. She was in a perfect position, cloaked and ready to fire.
The Spartan felt strange. His instincts yearned to engage, to eliminate the enemy in front of him. Over a decade of war and never had Max talked to his foes.
"The name of the ship and you may yet live." Max declared sternly. It was a simple enough demand.
She did not care in the slightest.
"Well, at least I can enjoy turning your head into a pulpy mess!" Yelled the asari, biotically lifting a container and priming to throw. Max readied to move, reaching for his rifle.
A single thunderous boom filled the air.
A flash of light as bright as a star encompassed the aliens head and it vanished, a grotesque stump of a skull profusely bleeding from where there was once a jaw.
A pulpy mess.
The Spartan III was starting to like this new commander of his. The quarian slightly reeled at the gore, watching the disfigured corpse fall to the ground with revulsion.
Max quickly took notice of the mercenaries flooding the room from the back end doors.
More booms filled the air, a few eclipse meeting the same end as their leader as they all scrambled to cover.
Shepard's voice bellowed over the comms.
"Tali, I want a combat drone right behind them! Do not let them get organized!"
Tali did as ordered, the circular drone causing havoc in their ranks.
It was soon dispatched thereafter, the room becoming engulfed in a frenzy of gunfire. The Spartan and engineer did their best from behind cover, slowing the advance in conjunction with Shepard.
Their strategy worked for a time, but was not sustained.
Max slew many of the mercenaries from afar, but was soon down to the last of his ammunition. Too many of them kept coming, and he knew the room would soon be flooded with the enemy if they weren't halted.
The Spartan thought of what to do. As of the present moment they were inadequately equipped to counter, and the unpleasant thought of retreat slowly crept up in his mind.
An overzealous merc ventured too close and got their stomach turned into a bloody paste courtesy of Tali's shotgun.
The close quarters engagement was the first domino. A whisper of an idea in Max's head as he pieced it together.
"Kimbra."
"Yes?" She answered anxiously.
"When I say so, kill the lights."
Max activated his comms. "Commander, Zorah, when it goes dark, stay put." He quickly said.
Tali looked up at the Spartan with perplexity, confused by the statement.
Pitch black enveloped the room, followed by a crackling hiss which penetrated the air. The gunfire had stopped, deathly silence taking hold of the room.
Tali watched with unease as the Spartans figure was just barely visible up close, his form outlined by the glow of the nightmarish blade he held.
Without a sound Six turned the corner, quiet as the void.
"Six, what are you doing?" Shepard whispered over the comms, anxious at the rapid change of atmosphere.
Her answer was a scream of death throes across the room, trailed by another. Soon, shrieks of terror were the only noise she could hear.
Random scattered shots were fired in vain, more and more petrified screams ringing out in a cacophony of horror.
Singularities, grenades, warps and bullets were all fired in desperation, the demon amongst the mercenaries undeterred.
The cries of fear and pain were soon extinguished, and with one final cry of agony, silence reigned over the room.
The scent of burnt flesh filled Shepard's nostrils. A few moments later the lights turned back on, the smells source coming into view in the form of countless scattered corpses. Each and every one was sickeningly maimed, legs, hands, arms and heads cleaved off as if a creature from hell had had its way with them.
Then there was Six, gauntlets caked in blood, standing amidst the unsavory picture he had painted.
A monster, surrounded by victims.
Surrounded by death, as he had been, was and perhaps always would be.
Damn, writing at 3:00 AM hits different. Hope you enjoyed reading! Please consider leaving a review if you can, it's always super motivating. Have a great rest of you're day/night and thanks for reading!
P.S. hope the final sequence there read well/ was ok, haven't ever written any horror-esque things like that before.