*UNKNOWN*
Light began to seep into the tiniest sliver that had begun to form in an ocean of black. Eyes that had never been used stung in pain from the minuscule amount of glare that seared into their retinas. Ears that had never been heeded finally conveyed auditory information of the world around them to a brain that could comprehend it. Although, even tiny whispers sounded like blaring megaphones to them. Skin that was still gradually knitting together burned and itched uncontrollably. Lungs that had until recently needed mechanical assistance to function began to draw sterile air in through a parched throat.
With each passing moment, awareness grew ever closer as an unnatural fog started to lift. A low, growling voice off to one side made mention of something. Another, brighter and exotic, responded quickly with a sense of urgency. As a small measure of clarity took hold of a previously unused mind, instinct surged to the fore.
Eyes started to open wider despite the agonizing glare to witness medical instruments of every possible function. Ears could hear the repetitive beeping of equipment over the frantic arguing of the room's other occupants. Occupants the ears didn't recognize. Skin could feel the uncomfortable rigidness of an all-too-familiar style of bed that the healing body currently rested upon. Yet it could not detect the telltale brush of caring fingertips or warm tones of concerned well wishers. The combination of what all of these things implied caused the barely used lungs to start heaving in large gasps of air. In sympathy, a new heart started to rev dangerously as it threatened to burst from its protective rib cage.
Blood began to boil as the body responded to the mind's desperate orders to move, to flee the torture master's operating table. An unfamiliar, albeit not entirely unpleasant looking, face swam into view and gently captured an arm lifting off the table to push it back down. She advised against moving, but the berserker's fire that had begun to burn through the body's brain stubbornly ignored it. Every impulse told it that it was in danger, and needed to escape or die trying.
Its heart thundered in its chest as the rest of the body started to sluggishly respond to orders commanding it to move. The exotic voice barked something to the growling one. The growling one snapped something in return before exotic voice rushed out of view. Just as the body was rising from the table, a fresh shroud started to claw at its vision. Everything suddenly became unbearably heavy. The mind refused to succumb quietly, however.
With titanic effort, a fresh inferno of rage blazed through the failing body. Teeth clenched in unconscious defiance as the body struggled against the unimaginable weight holding it down. Growling voice worriedly bleated something before exotic voice irritably snarled something back. In an instant, the creeping gloom hovering just on the edge of the body's awareness came flooding forward to forcibly snuff out the fire burning in its brain. Peaceful oblivion once again took hold as consciousness slipped away into the ravenous dark. Just before drifting away, its eyes saw the woman's face again. Her exotic voice had a biting edge as it responded to growling voice's relieved remark. Then the inky blanket once again cut off all sensation from the outside world.
*UNKNOWN*
Jacob Taylor had never considered himself to be an unlucky person. He'd always needed to work hard for everything he got but, generally speaking, so did everyone else he knew. Yet the circumstances he found himself embroiled in seemed to throw his streak of neutral fortune straight out the window. At first he'd wondered if he'd stumbled into someone else's dream as chaos reigned across the station. Yet, as the minutes had ticked by with sheer insanity swirling around him, he'd firmly resolved that he was still grounded in reality.
It had all started some years ago after he'd become disenfranchised with the Human Alliance. His time serving as a Corsair wouldn't have been considered especially notable by anyone's standards, but he and his team had distinguished themselves to a degree by thwarting an attempted assassination on board the Citadel. For a while after, he'd enjoyed the luxuries that come along with being something of a hero. However, those accolades had been short lived as the mundane routine of everyday life once again set in.
As the daily grind gradually took its toll, he was also aware of certain issues affecting Council space that could have used a more heavy-handed approach from his superiors in the Alliance. He had tried to convince his immediate higher ups to take additional action, especially given the losses the Alliance had suffered in liberating the Citadel from Saren and his army of Geth. Instead, he'd been completely stonewalled and pushed back toward his old duties until a ray of brunette sunshine brought a small measure of color to his drab existence.
She'd come as a life line to rescue him from the monotony of a life as an unappreciated cog in an antiquated machine. She offered him the chance to do something that really mattered for the good of Humanity, which all sounded very good. Except to do that he would have to ditch the Alliance and join up with the known terrorist organization, Cerberus. On paper he would have refused outright, but the woman knew just what parts of her anatomy to use in order to force him to think with something besides his brain. He wasn't made of stone after all.
From there, his life had become a roller coaster of harrowing missions and dangerous operations. He'd begun to develop something of a personal relationship with the woman, Miranda Lawson, who had initially recruited him. For a little while, things had gone off swimmingly. That honeymoon phase quickly passed, however, as they didn't always see eye to eye and eventually lost the spark of romantic entanglement. Her constant need for perfection was just as grating to him as his desire for regular relaxation was to her. Despite their failed romance, both had remained close enough as friends so he'd agreed to join her team on a project called Lazarus. As bedlam currently swirled around him, he had begun to question that decision.
Security mechs, which had previously served to protect the inhabitants of Lazarus Station, had suddenly turned on their masters and were running amok shooting every living person in sight. Add to that there were periodic, booming tremors reverberating through the station's deck plates from what one crewman had described as a demon from hell before his transmission was abruptly cut short. Jacob had radioed to Miranda immediately after asking for clarification but was interrupted mid-syllable by the panicking Science Officer, Wilson.
His low growling voice was stained with sheer terror as he shrieked for help over the coms. "Shit, he's found me!"
"Wilson! Where are you?" Jacob quickly responded.
"Server room B! Hurry, he's out of control!" The frantic man cried.
"Stay right there, I'm on my way." Jacob tried to reassure his co-worker but hadn't even finished before Wilson's pleading scream echoed through his com.
"Shepard, no wait! *gagrhh*"
The transmission was swallowed by hissing static after Wilson's grisly end, which caused a tiny pang of indecision to flutter through Jacob's mind. Project Lazarus' only subject was apparently loose, and ripping the station apart. After hearing all of the stories about the Commander's famously bad temper, Jacob needed to seriously consider whether he wanted to get in the way. In the end, his sense of duty won out forcing him to head for the location Wilson had given him just moments before to see if he could subdue the Commander.
As he neared the server room, his trepidation grew exponentially. Sparking circuitry hung from gaping holes punched into the walls and ceiling. Doors hung haphazardly on warped tracks after being violently wrenched apart by biotic power. From what it seemed, the destruction appeared completely indiscriminate meaning the Commander probably wasn't even thinking clearly. Just tearing everything up around him like a wild animal in a desperate bid to escape.
At last the beleaguered security officer made it to the server room's mangled door, and could clearly see the remains of his counterpart splattered across the floor. As he gingerly worked his way inside, he spotted the prints of bare feet scattered through the gore that had once been Wilson. His eyes followed the trail of prints as the man who made them apparently stopped to stand in front of a bank of monitors. Dead center in the wall of screens was one that displayed the station's shuttle bay.
"Shit…" Jacob swore under his breath. Both his and Miranda's boss, the Illusive Man, would skin them alive if the Commander somehow made it off the station and back to the Alliance.
With as much haste as he could muster, he vaulted over the Wilson puddle hoping his knowledge of the station would let him get to the shuttles before Shepard. He also fervently hoped that he wouldn't run into the Commander along the way without any back up. He opened a channel to Miranda again trying to warn her of where Shepard was heading, but received only dead air in response. As he went, the sounds of fighting in the corridors around him slowly died down as the station's Human occupants either escaped, or were exterminated by rampaging mechs.
He started to breathe easier as the shuttle bay gangways came into view around the last corner he'd rounded. Thankfully, this sector appeared largely untouched by the destruction throughout the rest of the facility. With practiced movements, he quietly padded over to the last cluster of shuttle berths where a single craft was still docked. Without thinking, he hurried up to the portal separating him from freedom and set in the commands to open the door. His heart jumped into his throat as the muzzle of a weapon instantly whipped up into line with his face.
"M-Miranda?" He stammered as he stared down the barrel.
"Guh… Jacob." She snarled, before lowering her weapon. That was after keeping it pointed at his forehead for an uncomfortable amount of time. "Where have you been?"
He half-turned to point a thumb back the way he'd come. "Trying to save Wilson."
She eyed him for a moment. "Where is he?"
Jacob shook his head. "Splattered across the floor in server room B. Guess Shepard found him first."
She nodded, seeming almost satisfied. "Got what he deserved then." Even through her thick, and usually charming, Australian accent her contempt for the Science Officer was obvious.
Jacob was taken aback. "We've known Wilson for years. Why would you say that?"
She speared him with a look of pure venom. "Because it was Wilson that reprogrammed the mechs to attack." A wave of boiling hatred played across her beautiful features. "And kill Shepard."
"Do you really think he was capable of something like that?"
"Not anymore." She sniffed indignantly.
Before Jacob could respond, they heard shouting coming from the hallway he'd just come from. "We're almost to the shuttles. Go go go!"
Somewhere further behind the trio of fleeing Cerberus scientists, a blood curdling howl echoed off the walls. "GGGYYYAAAAAUUUUGGGHHHH!"
"Holy shit, run!" One of them yelled as they frantically tried to outrun the half-naked, biotic-wreathed crazy person bearing down on them.
Jacob attempted to run to help, but Miranda's hand on his shoulder stopped him cold. They both looked on as the whirling dervish of cobalt-blazing insanity thundered into their co-worker's midst. In seconds he'd bashed two of the three into unidentifiable paste before turning on the one that had used the accursed phrase. He'd violently snatched the terrified man by his collar to scream something into his face before rocketing a biotic push into his midsection. The hapless man soared across the entirety of the shuttle bay to messily wrap around a guard rail on the far side.
Without even slowing to observe his handiwork, Commander Kraven Matthew Shepard whirled to bring Jacob and Miranda into his sights. The blue corona surrounding his body flared as he vaulted down the steps leading from the gangway to the last remaining shuttle. Jacob instinctively raised his weapon to fend off the impending assault but a muffled cough from Miranda's pistol stalled his finger from tightening around the trigger. A flurry of perfectly aimed tranq darts spat from her gun to imbed themselves in the onrushing Commander. His muscles jerked from the impacts, but he didn't so much as slow. Round after round of tranquilizers were sent flying to pepper his bare torso, but seemingly did nothing to halt his advance. He recklessly surged toward them with his fist cocked back, ready to smash them into dust as a look of unadulterated malice twisted his broken visage. Angrily glowing cracks burned inside the scars crisscrossing his face and body and an unnatural, red light blazed within his eyes lending credence to the description of demon.
Just before Jacob's mind overrode his command to hold fire in the name of self preservation, the Commander's legs buckled underneath him. He stumbled to the deck and slid to stop a scant few feet from the Cerberus operatives. Both let out the breath they had unconsciously been holding as the whipping blue flames around Shepard's body sputtered and died. Both stowed their firearms as Miranda knelt next to the sweat-soaked Commander. Wisps of steam twirled and twisted from all over his body as his severely overworked biotic amps burned beneath his skin. His eyes, which were obviously struggling to stay open, stared balefully into hers.
A wicked grin barely curled one corner of her lips. "I think it's time we had a chat, Commander."