Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: As you might guess from the title of episode, we are now going down the rabbit hole of my versions of actual game plot. I do plan to incorporate quite a bit of "canon plot", reworked, retooled, and redone, for my own cannon and planned overreaching arcs. Enjoy!
Episode 5: Eden Prime
As Shepard predicted, news of her promotion spread through the Normandy like a flash-fire. Subsequently none of the crew was surprised to see Nihlus getting the tour or fully settling into the XO's cabin on deck three. Kaidan and Ashley had been thorough; everyone on board was now set to help her in whatever way they could. About the only one who seemed openly uncomfortable was Matthews, and only because he never actually cooked for a dextro before. The issue being, as he confessed, nerves about whether or not he could do it right without tasting it. Levo taste buds would perceive dextro food to taste completely different, so he had no way of knowing if he was messing something up.
Shepard was even more impressed with just how much material she got via data package. Admiral Hackett had authorized additional forty eight hours of leave to iron out the technical problems of the situation. Mostly there were new supplies to take up, which included not only food, but also medical. The Normandy got a slight increase of operational budget as well, a humble one percent that was earmarked for Spectre Affairs. Coordinating with EDI made the process take less time and effort it would have taken normally. The AI could read the labels of what they had, ask relevant crew-members questions, and the like.
Introducing the Spectre to EDI had been a lot less painful than Shepard could have imagined, and it proved to be a formality. Nihlus admitted he figured out there was an AI aboard the moment he saw it hack through Eclipse's databases. What was surprising is that he did not seem to care that the Normandy was a flagrant violation of Council law. He had ample chance to blow the whistle, but he did not.
His underwhelmed reaction made Shepard suspect that he took that particular law to be more of a guideline, and what more the Normandy might not be the only violation he knew about. Shepard just did not know whether it was some Spectre prerogative, or a personal stand on the matter. She would not look that gift horse in the mouth.
All that took up the better part of that day. The next morning, with some supplies already coming in; Shepard formally introduced Nihlus to Doctor Chakwas. The doctor took to the added challenge in a stride. Perhaps it was petty on her part, but Shepard enjoyed that more than she should have. The good doctor all-but forced Nihlus to submit to a general medical so she could have his baselines on file, as it would make treating him easier should he require it at any point while he was on the Normandy. Shepard left him there, he was entitled to confidentiality, and she did not want him to realize she was enjoying his discomfort. She got the feeling that the doctor was enjoying herself as well, because Nihlus had dodged a physical previously.
The first dextro meal Matthews cooked had been an affair to remember as well. The ex-marine cook was reduced to nervousness uncharacteristic of a man normally all swagger and smiles. He watched the Spectre take the first bite of the stew-like meal, thick with alien meat. When it passed muster Matthews sighed as if he had dodged a firing squad. Shepard assumed the Spectre had not been lying either, because he did not leave anything in the bowl.
Effectively that the first day of their extended leave passed with Shepard buried in micromanaging the situation on the Normandy. She was proud to add that despite a little bit of wariness, the crew treated Nihlus with a polite professional respect at least, and in Jenkins' case, outright reverence. Her being merely a candidate did not seem to matter either, as far as Jenkins was concerned, she was a Spectre already.
Shepard ear-marked the second day for herself, and that morning she spent in the shuttle bay first ensuring her armor replacement parts fit, and then running her healed arm through its paces. The former task was easy enough, as armor manufacture was standardized; she just had to confirm that the system actually interlocked as it should. The latter was more involving, and scientific. She turned to the sensory in the punching bag, and the numbers were favorable, her right punches were as powerful as they had been before she took that bullet through the shoulder. There was still some tenderness, so she could not keep wailing freely, but that was entirely temporary. She left the gym glistening with an all-over sweat, happy with herself.
A shower and a change of clothing later and she packed Sin and Dex, keen on finding a holo-range to run some drills. Four hours after that she was back on the Normandy to drop off the twins at the armory before she grabbed some lunch in the mess and then went out to some well-deserved personal time.
Shepard was back on the Normandy with ten minutes of her leave to spare, feeling more refreshed. Having relieved Kaidan from temporary command, she ventured to the OD intending to check for any communication that may have arrived in her absence.
The OD's door barely closed behind her when she stopped cold. There was the Spectre lounging on the couch under the viewport, reading something off the datapad, still clad in full armor as if he expected to fend off an invasion any second now.
"Making yourself comfortable, I see." She said, pleasantly surprised with herself in that she sounded simply amused. Was this where he spent his whole day? The crew seemed more relaxed than yesterday, so maybe he had. If he was going to make a habit of haunting the OD then she needed to reconsider the term 'sanctuary' for it. She honestly wished he would ditch the armor too. Ceramic plates were hard on the upholstery.
He looked up from the pad, "We have an assignment."
Shepard did not react to the 'we' part, she did not need to ask from whom either, after all, the list of people who could give a Spectre an assignment was short. She reached her terminal and keyed in her password to access the secure communications. There was one urgent message in the inbox, an hour old, from Arcturus station, which actually meant Admiral Hackett's desk. It was also short; the Normandy was to proceed to Eden Prime. Further instructions would come from the Spectre Liaison on board. The message amounted to an authorization; she was to do whatever it was that the Spectre had been assigned.
Shepard almost snorted in laughter, so that was what they decided to call Nihlus? Well, at least now she knew what to introduce him as, and it sounded better than "bane of Shepard's existence", not that he would ever discover that that had been her thought.
"EDI has the crew returned from leave?" Shepard wondered.
"Yes, Commander. Everyone is present and accounted for."
Shepard glanced at the Spectre, if he was bothered by the fact that EDI knew this much about what was going on, he did not give himself away. "I suppose sooner is better than later. Right?" she wondered.
"You do not want to know the details?" he asked.
"Better get Joker going on those departure clearances first, they take a while." Shepard explained as she got up from her seat. She could have ordered Joker to do it over the intercom, but hell, she wanted to walk over there. Perhaps it would delay things for five minutes, but she would take those five minutes. As she stepped out of the OD she was surprised to hear footsteps follow her across the CIC. The evening shift glanced up from their consoles, but then went back to their duties.
"Joker." She called as soon as she cleared the final bulkhead.
"Hey, Commander." Joker replied. He had been watching something on his omni-tool when she approached, and shut it off hastily, but Shepard would not ask. What was a pilot to do in his off-time while the ship was docked? Joker seemed to love his leather chair over everything, including the rather soft couches in the observation rooms on deck three. "We're going already?" he asked.
"Afraid so," Shepard replied.
"Got it." He touched the interface, bringing up ship's systems, effectively rousing the Normandy from her three-day nap. A few keystrokes and red safety lights began to flash outside the main viewports, a warning for people who might still be on the gangways. Shepard merely stood back, let him work.
"Shuttle bay door raised and secured… cargo gangway retracting. Main airlock secured, gangway disengaged." He announced. "I suppose we got new orders, huh? Humor me, Commander; do these come from the Admiral or our new resident Spook? Because if it's the latter… I'd expect trouble. You know how it is; look up 'trouble' in a dictionary, pretty sure 'Council Spectre' will be listed as a synonym."
Shepard cleared her throat and her gaze flicked to Nihlus.
Joker's hands froze, "He's… behind me, isn't he?" he asked as he touched the controls to turn his chair around.
Shepard said nothing; she would not reprimand Joker with the Spectre in the room, doubly so since she partly agreed with him. Spectres were not sent places for soirees, when one turned up, trouble invariably followed. This one was already trouble just being in the same room.
"Spectre Kryik, sir, don't mind me, I think out loud."
"I noticed," Nihlus replied drily.
"Joker, just get the Normandy humming."
"Sure," he was happy to turn his chair right back around and get to work. "Where to?"
"Eden Prime." Shepard replied.
"Eden Prime, aye, aye, ma'am!" he brought up the communication system to call traffic control for clearances but paused short of placing the call, "Jenkins know we're bringing him home? He'd probably want you to meet his parents or something."
Shepard rolled her eyes, trust Joker to shift gears and go on 'thinking out loud' about someone else. She would not dignify that with a response, it would encourage him.
"I'll take that as a no…" He input another series of commands, "Traffic control, this is SSV Normandy, requesting departure clearances from Zakera Ward." Joker spoke up into his link. There was silence for a few moments as the dispatchers worked on their end.
"Normandy your request was received; you have been queued, priority two. Stand by for final clearance." The feminine voice of the dispatcher replied. The professional hauteur betrayed her as asari.
"Yea, this might take a while," Joker said, glancing over his shoulder at Shepard.
Shepard saw Nihlus bring up his omni-tool and input some commands, and then he leaned over Joker's seat to tap his finger on the communication console, causing Joker to practically leap out of his seat as he leaned as far away as he could with an outraged expression.
"Traffic control, this is SSV Normandy. Upgrade priority two to priority zero. Authorization codes sent." Nihlus straightened and tapped a few more keys on his tool.
There was more silence, longer than the previous one. Joker's eyebrows climbed so high his hat moved with them, Shepard knew what he was thinking. There was a priority level above the level one enjoyed by the passenger transports?
"Authorization codes verified, Normandy. The Normandy is now priority zero. Docking clamp controls released, you are clear to depart. My apologies Spectre Kryik. Proceed along departure lane twenty four; coordinates have been sent to your navigation system."
Shepard blinked, mystified; he got them immediate departure just because he was a Spectre? The Council sure spoiled their agents. How many passenger transports suddenly got a notice to hold? The Normandy was not a small ship like his Defiant; they would hold up the departure lane.
"Coordinates confirmed, control." Joker replied as his hands flew across the keys.
"Have a safe trip, Normandy."
Joker closed the link as the ship's hum increased in pitch as the engines came online in full earnest. "Docking clamps, released." There was a jolt as the magnetic locking arms detached from the ship's hull. Almost immediately the Normandy was moving backwards under her own power.
Nihlus spared her a grin, turned around, and walked off. She knew he would be waiting to go over the details of the mission in the OD.
Joker must have been listening to his footsteps fade, because he tipped his head to look over his shoulder ten seconds later. "Couple words and a fancy code and we're off on our merry way. I guess there had to be some benefit to having him around."
"Joker." Shepard murmured.
"No, I get it, he has no sense of humor, and you have to be nice to him."
"As long as you know."
"Don't worry; I'll make sure to have a rear view up next time. Now Council Sourpuss probably has trouble for us to get into to discuss. I have calculations to do, relay jumps are not point-and-click."
"Are you dismissing me?" Shepard wondered, vaguely amused.
"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am, I'm merely constituting facts." He replied with affected sweetness, laughter right in his tone.
Shepard shook her head, turned, and followed the Spectre. Joker was acutely aware of having opened mouth and inserted foot. She also knew that for all his commentary he was also on the Normandy's short-list of those who would do the most for her. His assurances, such as they were, were proof of that. She would leave him alone, no need to hammer in a point that he seemed to understand already. Of course with Joker, understanding did not necessarily mean he would stop doing it.
Shepard returned to the OD and was utterly unsurprised to see the Spectre lounging on the couch under the viewports again, as if that was his territory. The Normandy was now gliding along the length of Zakera Ward, toward its tip, and the relay hub beyond. The Widow system had a rather complex cluster of relays, the densest in the galaxy, ready to send and receive ships to and from all corners of the galaxy. All of them orbited the star at various points as if to keep it company.
She moved past her desk and stood over the Spectre. "So, Eden Prime?" she asked by way of breaching the topic. "Admiral Hackett sent me some fascinating if vague orders, I'm to help our… Spectre Liaison with something?"
He grinned and sat up, but his eyes remained on the datapad in his hands. "A week ago, an archeological team there unearthed some Prothean ruins."
Prothean ruins, well that was certainly interesting, Shepard mused. The Protheans were the builders of the Citadel and mass relays, a race so advanced that they had a pan-galactic empire at their height. Yet they vanished some time fifty thousand years before, and no one knew how or why. Little was known about them, most coming from accidents of preservation and ruins.
Remnants of their technology were responsible for advancing a number of races, including Humans. In 2148, a major cache of Prothean artifacts was found on Mars, and with it, the discovery of Mass Effect physics. The discovery made things hitherto thought impossible more than possible, including the fact that she was sitting here, talking to an extra-terrestrial being.
Ultimately, Prothean artifacts were deemed vital resources, with the Citadel Council in control of all discoveries made within Council Space. Shepard was beginning to see why a sojourn to Eden Prime dropped on her lap. Established in 2152, Eden Prime was one of the first extra-solar human colonies. The Council would want to send a Spectre to have a look. Nihlus probably got the job by virtue of his new position aboard an Alliance vessel. The Council had already devised a use for their new asset.
"Three days ago they dug up something even more interesting than that, an intact beacon." Nihlus continued.
"A beacon?" Shepard wondered.
"By what I read," he flicked the datapad in his hand, "They are parts of a Prothean communication network, akin to our comm buoys. Like our buoys they also have some storage capacity."
Shepard hummed, "Whatever might be lingering in that beacon's memory…"
"Precisely."
They found a proverbial time capsule. The beacon's memory could contain one thousand and one things, from top-secret research, weapon designs, blueprints, maps, scientific knowledge in a hundred different fields, or even something as mundane as Prothean recipes and vids. Any of it would be fascinating to the academics of some field, and could potentially lead to advancements or further discoveries. The Council sure moved quick to ensure that they knew what was on that thing.
"The archeologists do not have the skills to crack the layers of encryption and security. Furthermore, the beacon's technology itself is of interest. They requested assistance with shipping the beacon to a high security vault on the Citadel."
"And the Normandy is to be the armored truck."
"Yes. I am to oversee the process." Nihlus added.
Shepard hummed, "EDI, please tell Joker to rig us silent when we hit Utopia System."
"Right away, Commander," The AI replied.
"Are we expecting trouble?" Shepard wondered, turning back to the Spectre.
"I always expect trouble, but your understanding of the situation might differ. While the dig itself is public knowledge, the discovery of the beacon is not. As far as the galaxy is concerned, it is just another team of university-affiliated archeologists playing in the dirt."
She was going to ignore the cocky lilt in his voice. The more she conversed with Nihlus, the more certain she became that whatever qualities he had, humility was not one of them. "Ah, but Eden Prime has some fine dirt. I understand though, precaution certainly can't hurt."
"We agree then, good."
Shepard was not sure if she would expect trouble, but she knew that at the end of the day, she could not afford to be the one who botched this.
"As for Eden Prime. I heard it is quite beautiful. A paradise."
"Well, I can't say, but, they must have thought it was. Eden was a garden, a paradise, where the maker created humanity- well according to some old beliefs among my people." As far as Shepard was concerned it was an unoriginal naming scheme, but naming things was hard, so whatever. As his silence lingered, she idly wondered if she said too much. There was nothing to it if she had. "I imagine you'd want to go down there as soon as possible." Best shift the topic back to the matter at hand.
"The quicker we can get the beacon on the Normandy, the better."
"Good. We're still hours out, I can brief the marines later, for now I suggest we both get some shut-eye. It will be a long day." She got up from her seat.
"Yes, you are right."
Shepard nodded. "Have a good night, Nihlus."
"You too, Co- Shepard."
She spared him a small smile, turned, and left the OD.
Nine hours later Shepard was in the OD again, seated on the couch next to Nihlus, her marines on the extension. She laid down her datapad and picked up her coffee cup, draining the last of the cooling liquid, satisfied that she had timed things well enough. They were about half an hour out from making Eden Prime's orbit, and she had just finished briefing the marines.
"As you can see it's sensitive but not-"
There was a throat clearing over the intercom, Joker's familiar tone, "Sorry to interrupt Commander, but EDI just picked up something you'll want to hear."
Shepard set down her cup, "Put it through, EDI."
EDI did not reply, but suddenly the OD was filled with the sound of scratchy static and what sounded like an assault rifle at a distance from the recording equipment. "… It's connected… shit… okay." A voice murmured. "Mayday, mayday… this is the third platoon of the two-twelfth brigade, Eden Prime garrison. We are under attack and taking casualties. I repeat, we are under attack, taking casualties." There was another rapport of gunfire, followed by a scream. The speaker cursed so low that what he said was not picked up. "If anyone is picking this up, we need immediate support. They came out of nowhere… oh God." More gunshots, something exploded, the voice was barking indecipherable orders to others, yet more gunshots, and then the scratching and static resumed.
Shepard watched as the marines exchange glances. She turned to the Spectre whose eyebrow plates drew lower, hooding his eyes pensively.
The static cleared, replaced by the sound of heavy breathing. "There are only about twenty of us left, we won't hold them for long… please… please hurry." The voice was frantic now, terrified. Suddenly there was more gunfire, an explosion, and static, before the recording cut out.
"Joker, hustle. We need to get there. Now."
"She's going as fast as she can, Commander." Joker responded.
"EDI, as soon as we're in range, I need your best scans. I want a topographical layout with potential landing sites, and a confirmation on the identity of the attackers."
"Of course, Commander." The AI replied.
"Somehow I don't think it is mercenaries, or even batarians," Ashley noted.
"If not them, then who?" Jenkins asked, visibly unnerved.
Shepard would not blame Jenkins for what he must feel right now, this was his home colony. She sighed, a sound that caught the attention of everyone in the room. "Ashley is right. That marine sounded terrified, and needless to say they don't scare easy."
Ashley nodded mutely.
"What about the beacon?" Kaidan wondered.
"The beacon is still our objective, but we need to know what we're up against. The geeks unearth a beacon and the colony is attacked shortly after. I don't know about you, but I don't believe in coincidences. Someone knows about that thing, and they want it." Shepard replied. "EDI will get us the info we need. For now, suit up and bring extra ammo and Medi-gel. If a platoon of thirty marines was cornered, we are facing numbers."
"Yes ma'am," the marines replied in a single voice, getting up from their seats. She watched as they cleared out of the room, and then she was on her feet.
"Shepard," Nihlus spoke up. "I understand your desire to protect your fellow soldiers, but we have no proof the attack has anything to do with the beacon."
"We have no proof yet, Nihlus. That said, I have a gut feeling, and I've learned the hard way not to ignore my gut." Shepard spared him a chilled look before she breezed out of the OD and made her way toward the elevator. EDI would confirm her suspicions, and then she would be vindicated. Even if she was to be proven wrong, if Nihlus thought she would leave twenty marines to die over a piece of technology, he really did not understand her, and never would.
Shepard was in the shuttle bay, strapping optional modules to her webbing within fifteen minutes, just as the Normandy made orbit. She chose to take the extra container strapped behind her right shoulder full of thermal clips for Vincent and an explosives kit with six disk-like high-explosive grenades.
Kaidan, the field medic of her marines, was adjusting his first aid kit in the chest pockets of his webbing. Ashley, already in her armor and loaded to the limit with supplies, was checking the sights of all her weapons, including her sniper rifle, and Jenkins slipped on a whole bandoleer of thermal clips over his right shoulder.
"Commander, my scans are complete and I relayed the data to your omni-tools." EDI announced. "I triangulated the source of the distress call as well; it originated within a kilometer radius of the Prothean dig site."
Shepard tightened the last strap of her webbing as she moved over toward the Kodiak, catching the Spectre's gaze. She hoped he was abashed now, because she was right. She wished she was not, but wishful thinking was not a soldier's best friend. "What are we looking at, EDI?" She glanced back as she spoke. Kaidan, Ashley, and Jenkins had followed her mutely, but she could see the tension building in them.
"I detected what appears to be a ship five kilometers due west of the dig site. I deemed it inadvisable to use high resolution active scans, as that would give away our presence. Nevertheless, based on passive imaging I found a ninety percent match in my database of past and present ship designs." EDI explained.
"And?" Shepard wondered, watching her marines climb into the shuttle.
"My database indicates the ship to be Geth in origin."
"Geth?" Shepard repeated. She saw Nihlus' arms drop to his sides, Ashley stopped cold, Kaidan looked askance, and Jenkins suddenly flashed a look that betrayed his fear. Shepard could not fault him either.
"My database includes a number of Geth ship designs dating to the last sightings; they display a great deal of uniformity, varying only by size. This ship is consistent with a one-hundred-sixty-three meter vessel deemed frigate-class."
Shepard hummed; the situation had just gone from bad to worse. How were they supposed to secure the beacon like this? Waiting in ambush for the Geth ship to come up into weapon range was out of the question for many reasons. The Normandy could cripple the ship before it returned fire, but that would mean they would lose the beacon and a lot of marine lives in the meantime.
If losing the beacon was out of the question, losing Marine lives would be an unforgivable sin. They had no choice but to ante up and play the cards dealt, but Shepard was not above using the aces up her sleeves. "We have to do what we can. EDI, relay that distress call to Arcturus at the highest priority, use our QEC, make sure Admiral Hackett knows I need backup with bells on."
"Right away, Commander." EDI replied.
Shepard stepped onto the shuttle, followed by Nihlus. He had yet to say a word, but Shepard could feel his gaze on the back of her neck, it made all the hairs there stand on end more surely than the situation. Right now though, she could not care less if calling for backup was somehow a violation of secrecy or something. The Council wanted the beacon. This way they stood a chance of getting it. With no backup, the only thing they would get would be a view of a whole lot of caskets. The situation was bigger than the lot of them.
The descent through Eden Prime's atmosphere was a bumpy affair accelerated by necessity, as the shuttle did not have the stealth systems of the Normandy, so its thrusters would register on whatever sensors the Geth had. The landing itself was bumpier, the shuttle came in from the east, as far away from the Geth ship as it could, just in case. It seemed their luck held, as the Geth ignored them the whole way. The landing zone put them a couple hundred meters down a winding dirt track that led toward the spaceport where the dig team intended to secure the beacon for transport.
Shepard did not like to wear her helmet when fighting groundside on planets with a breathable atmosphere, but protocol was protocol. Nihlus was the only one there who left his in the Kodiak. She glanced up to take stock of the weather, this part of Eden Prime was close to mid-day, and the sky was mottled with wispy clouds that did nothing to block the sunlight. It was a rather pleasant day for very unpleasant business.
"No heroics, no rushes, we advance steadily, keep to cover, and shoot true." She ordered as they began to walk down the dirt path. "Spectre, I best see what that fancy new assault rifle of yours can do."
"Will I see the sniper rifle in action?" He replied.
"If you ever see a sniper, they're not doing it right." Shepard replied automatically. Perhaps now was the worst time for levity, but the situation was plenty serious enough without being morose about it. Shepard had no delusions; this could very well turn out to be their final hour. If so, then it would be their finest as well.
The dirt path wound, flanked on both sides by craggy rocks and robust trees. As they came around a final bend, the ground here dropped away sharply, leaving only a single thin dirt path down toward the shipping yard and space port, which stretched below them, set into a plateau on top of a hill. Shepard could see a line of dark green falling further away from the port, and beyond that, fields, fields, and nothing but fields. EDI chose a picture-perfect landing spot and approach, complete with tactical advantage for marksmen. Shepard stopped at the crest of the slope and raised a silent fist into the air, telling her group to stop as well.
The port was not terribly big; it served hopper craft only slightly bigger than their shuttles, not spaceships. The remains of a few hopper shuttles were littered about, all of them in various stages of destroyed, and some still burned. There were scorch marks on the ground, and even without binoculars she could see bodies. The Geth ship loomed a distance away, floating over the forest. It was shaped like a great big grey hornet with no wings. Why the Geth built something so organic-looking was beyond her, but right now was not the time to wonder, let alone ask.
Even from where they stopped she could see just how bad the marines had it. The whole open area between the yard and the port was crawling with geth, easily ten or fifteen units. The automatons had silvery vaguely humanoid shapes, each with light for a face, moving with obvious determination toward a single objective. All of them shining and shimmering in the sunlight like fine kitchenware. On the north side, one of the port's warehouses was partly open, its shutter-like door scorched and riddled with holes. Whenever one of the Geth got too close, tracer bullets erupted from within.
"The geth must have air-dropped units right on top of your marines, it is the only way they would have suffered rapid heavy losses," Nihlus mused.
Shepard hummed in assent. "Well, now they have a choke point; they're holding, so they couldn't have all been killed." She dropped to her left knee, reaching up over her shoulder for Vincent, fingers automatically ghosting over its controls, shifting it to disruptor ammo mode. "Gunny, we need to weed them out from here before we can do anything."
"Can definitely do, skipper." Ashley replied.
Shepard could hear the increase of optimism in the woman's voice, and for good reason. This situation suddenly did not seem that dire; the marines had cover and a choke point. She sat back on her left heel and braced her right foot into the dirt, lapsing into a comfortable, steady kneeling stance. Ashley mirrored her, except she was right handed and favored her right leg for balance.
"Start on the left, I'll go from the right…" Shepard ordered, raising Vincent to her eye.
"On your mark, Commander," Ashley replied.
Shepard took a deep, slow breath and let it out just as slowly. The climb up the path had accelerated her heartbeat, she had to force herself to calm down, because she could not afford to waste shots. Another deep breath, another slow exhale, her HUD was already ticking down her heart-rate. She peered down her rifle's scope, the crosshairs almost right on the back of a geth's neck, as if the rifle itself wanted to kill. She continued to breathe deeply. Range was not too tricky at two hundred meters. Her helmet HUD showed a steady, but slow summer breeze coming up the hill. Her free hand rose to the controls on the side of the scope, adjusting the crosshairs for Eden Prime's 1.04g at 1.45 atm. Another deep breath and she dropped her finger to the trigger. A quick adjustment her crosshairs, one last millimeter, she exhaled, and as her lungs emptied, slowly squeezed the trigger.
The shot's crack rolled like thunder along the rock walls around them. The geth's head exploded, sending some sort of white liquid splashing onto the ground as the machine collapsed. Shepard raked the receiver bolt to eject the spent thermal clip; her hand was over her right shoulder even before the hot cylinder hit the ground. Another crack echoed as Ashley took her shot, another geth went down. Shepard rolled a fresh clip in her fingers, turned its terminals to the muzzle and slammed it in, the receiver shut. She inhaled, turned the rifle, aligned the crosshairs, exhaled, and as her lungs emptied, squeezed. Another crack, more liquid spray, another geth went down.
"Wow," Jenkins breathed somewhere over her head.
One more crack echoed as Ashley took her second shot.
Shepard ejected the spent clip, reached for a fresh and slammed it in. Inhale, she turned the rifle, found her mark, exhale, empty, and squeezed the trigger. Another geth unit went down in a spray of white liquid. A familiar calm settled in her bones. Ashley's third shot barely registered in her mind, she was already reaching for another clip.
The geth finally became aware of the sharpshooters taking them out. Some turned, but they were armed with assault rifles, but Shepard had seized advantage of being out of effective range. Still, she noted a larger unit painted a slightly darker shade of grey had stuck its rifle behind its back and reached over its shoulder for another weapon.
She leveled Vincent's crosshairs right with its bright flashlight face, and as the machine drew its sniper rifle, she was already on her exhale and squeeze. Vincent gave another crack, the would-be counter-sniper went down; the disruptor bullet ripped through its cranium like a hot knife through butter.
After that Shepard allowed herself to slip into a familiar rhythm. Her fingers rolled each successive clip quicker, and by the time it went in she already had her target aligned. It was only a matter of timing her breaths, slipping her finger down to the trigger, making a final correction, and squeezing the trigger. Ashley fired her fifth shot when Shepard fired her eighth. As that final unit went down in a spray of synthetic fluids, her eye remained glued to scope, sweeping slowly, watching for anything that might be hiding, or just coming in.
"We got them all, skipper," Ashley announced.
Suddenly there was scratching over her communicator. Shepard dropped Vincent's scope from her eye and reached up to tap at her helmet; around her the marines did the same.
"Are we already dead, or did we just get a backup squad?" A familiar voice asked, one she could recognize off the distress call.
"If one could call us a squad," Ashley mumbled.
"I don't know who you are up there, but from the sixteen of us survivors of the two-twelfth brigade's third platoon, we thank you. Operations Chief Leon Adenauer, by the way, ma'am."
Shepard figured he heard Ashley. "I am Commander Shepard, SSV Normandy, in company with three marines and one Council Spectre. We were ordered to retrieve a package and we picked up your distress call."
There was silence over the link for a long moment and then Shepard heard a woop that sounded vaguely like a number of voices raised in celebration. "Wow. We assumed there was a squad with sharpshooters to spare… we did not expect the White Death of Elysium."
"What's your situation?" Shepard demanded, she would remind him that they were not out of the woods yet.
"Right. Sorry ma'am. We have the package in the hangar here along with the surviving archeologists and dock workers. We have ammo, and grain crates are adequate cover. The flashlight-heads stopped using explosives for now, and that was our biggest problem. I think they don't want to risk blowing up the package. We suffered casualties, of the twenty-eight of us this morning; we lost twelve since the initial attack along with three of the scientists and some of the dock workers. It was a mess ma'am, very sudden, but I'd say we can hold our position for a while longer, though not indefinitely."
"With luck, Chief, we'll have backup within the hour."
"I hope it is so, ma'am, for all our sakes."
"We need to move skipper, they know we're here and the next wave will probably come at us." Ashley voiced.
Shepard nodded, tucked her rifle behind her back, and got to her feet. "We're coming to join you Chief. As I said, we have a Council Spectre with us, a turian. Tell your men to hold their fire."
"Roger that, ma'am."
Shepard hated having to give up their elevated position in favor of the warehouse, but Ashley was right. The geth had a ship and their ground forces could cover the distance between it and the spaceport just fine. Elevation worked while they had the element of surprise, but that card had been played and discarded.
They would have to rely on the warehouse bottleneck, and if Adenauer was right in his supposition, and the Geth wanted the beacon for whatever reason, they would not just open fire with anything heavier than assault rifles. The lot of them would have to dig in and wait for reinforcements to arrive.
As the five of them stepped past the half open bay door, they were greeted by the tired cheering of a few marines. Shepard could see them scattered about, hiding behind a U-shaped barricade made up of cargo containers labeled as food. The floor in the center was littered with dead geth, or chunks of dead geth. Some of the crates had been riddled with bullets and then patched together with bits of wadding and whatever else would keep the grain from running out. There were scorched patches on the floor too, the Geth probably tried to get at the marines using grenades, but it looked like they did not get very far.
At the back, huddled up into opposite corners were two groups of civilians. The scientists were easy to discern, among them two humans dressed in the mostly-grey Alliance science officer uniforms, along with an asari and a salarian, both dressed in blue, with armbands that bore the insignia of the Citadel. A team sent by the Council to appraise the dig. The dock workers were a larger group. Shepard counted seven; all of them were in their work clothes, most dirtied, and some bloodied. Seated next to them were two marines, both also injured, but they were well enough to hold their rifles and provide some comfort for the civilians.
There in the center, also up against the back wall was a large rectangular shipping container, sealed shut and labeled with all manner of indicators, least of all a reminder that the contents were fragile, to be handled with extreme care. The science team had managed to package the beacon for transport before the attack started. Did the marines know what they were guarding? Going by Adenauer's choice of words, it did not look like they did. She was not going to inform them either.
A marine stepped out around the barricade, lowering his rifle. "Operations Chief Leon Adenauer, ma'am, we talked." He said with a smile. He was a tall man, with black hair, rough features, dark colored eyes, and the build of someone who ought to have been playing American Football.
"Indeed. This is my team, Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, Corporal Richard Jenkins, and Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik."
"Welcome to our slice of paradise. Wish we were meeting under better circumstances. As it is, we have maybe five minutes before the next wave of flashlights arrives. Make yourselves at home." He motioned to the barricades.
Adenauer still maintained a faint semblance of levity, it was a good sign. Marines were funny people; many developed an inappropriately-timed sense of humor, unless the situation was absolutely dire and all hope was lost. It helped cope with some of the harsh realities.
Shepard chose the highest stack of crates to hide behind, and she was not all that surprised to that Nihlus stuck to her. The other marines were not looking a gift horse in the mouth, but a Spectre was a Spectre, she could see wariness in the more tired, more injured marines. She raised her hand to her communicator and switched channels.
"Normandy come in."
"Commander. Boy, am I glad to hear you. What's going on down there?" Joker sounded audibly relieved.
"I'd say the situation is no longer dire. We made rendezvous with the two-twelfth and are holding decent position. The geth seem keen on our package, so they stopped throwing explosives. That said… anything on long range?"
"Ah… Afraid not, Commander, but EDI and I are monitoring. I'll update the second anything blips, you can bet on it."
"Thanks, Joker. Shepard out." She let her hand drop away from the communicator. If it was not for her helmet, she would be raking her hand through her hair right now. The waiting game was the worst part. As a sniper, she liked to be the danger the enemy never knew was there. She did not like waiting for something to surprise her.
"They are here," Nihlus suddenly called, drawing his assault rifle.
Shepard heard a whine as the weapon unfolded and powered up. She drew the twins and shifted them to disruptor ammo mode, "You heard him! Get ready to fight."
All around the marines raised their rifles and put their backs to their slices of barricade. A few moments later two rifles on the outer edge of the barricades came to life. There was a small explosion and the sound of something hitting the ground hard. Chattering followed and suddenly it was as if chaos descended all at once in the form of four very audacious geth. One of them was larger than the others by a fair bit.
"Big one's a command unit! Concentrate fire!" Adenauer called from his hiding spot.
The chattering rose in volume as the assault rifles pounded all around. Shepard glanced at her left; Nihlus kneeled behind a waist-high section of the barricade and raised his assault rifle over it. The black and red weapon was glowing with blue status lights; he had disruptor ammo on it. She ducked around to inspect the geth.
It was not hard to spot their weaknesses, they chattered, cluttered, and displayed the grace of beached whales. Two of the smaller units went down to sustained fire, and then a different tempo of assault rifle jointed the fray. The third unit's shields flared, and it chattered and whined. Shepard ducked out, raised both her guns, and pulled the triggers. The shields failed, and one of her bullets shattered the robot's face-light, causing it to go out. Simultaneously the Spectre's assault rifle riddled its torso with rounds and the Geth went down with a whine, splattering white fluids everywhere.
The assault rifles died for a split of a second and then came to life again, concentrated on the big command unit as Shepard ducked right behind her crate. The large unit returned fire with its pulse rifle, and a blast hit the crates somewhere. One of the marines shrieked and ducked low. Shepard whirled, catching sight of the young woman. She was holding her grazed shoulder. The unit whined as its shield finally failed, and then there was a crack, its head exploded, splattering white fluids everywhere as the rest collapsed.
"Bhatia, are you alright?" Adenauer called.
"Yes… yes, I think so… sir… Medi-gel's got it," the woman replied, still audibly rattled. "Give me a minute… I can still hold my gun."
"Any more of those big fuckers and we're in trouble," another of the marines grumbled. "Hope whatever's in that fancy box is good."
Shepard glanced at Nihlus; he was reloading his rifle with uncanny calmness.
"It's good," she replied. That was a lie. As far as Shepard was concerned, no beacon was worth all their lives, but she had to keep morale up. If the marines folded, they would be dead even sooner.
There was more chatter and a set of heavy footsteps as more geth arrived. Shepard peered around the barricade. There at right in front of the hangar door stood three units. Two she would call regular. The third, however, could have very well dwarfed even the big command unit by a dozen or more centimeters in both height and sheer bulk.
Its black coloration could rightly be described oil-slicked; it had a prismatic sheen that vanished when it stepped into the shadows, leaving just the base abyssal black. It had a large thick antenna behind each shoulder, and unlike all the geth so far, yellow lights. Two in the center, replacing the single of the others, and four much smaller ones embedded in angled pairs at temple level in the hood-like structure that formed its head. Most uniquely, it had mass accelerator canons for forearms, like a damned YMIR.
Its stepped into the warehouse with slow, lumbering, and heavy footsteps, uncaring that it had every gun in the place aimed right at it.
"Shit… they come even bigger than the command unit?" one of the marines mused.
"I think that's actually the real command unit," another replied.
"Surrender, Humans." A deep voice demanded, the sound resonating in the room, pressing on her eardrums like the subwoofer thrum of music in a nightclub. "We come for that which you call a beacon. Your resistance attempts, though valiant, are ultimately futile. It is only a matter of time until your bodies tire or you use up your ammunition. We will not be denied."
Whispers passed around the room as everyone seemed to ask the most obvious question.
"Funny, for being so damn sure of yourself, you're the one telling us to surrender. What's wrong? Running out of cannon fodder?" Shepard asked.
At that moment she noted the multiple looks of incredulity from the marines around her. Maybe it was not wise to bait at the geth, but her instinct told her that something made this tin-can come here to make pompous speeches. It wanted the beacon, but something was making it impatient. When the enemy became impatient, it meant something was pressing them.
"We have hundreds of platforms on our ship." The machine replied. "You are merely delaying the inevitable. Give us the beacon and you will all be spared." The machine announced.
More whispering, this time some of it came from the back.
"Give them the damn… beacon or whatever it is! I don't want to die!" someone shouted from the back.
Shepard glanced back at the panic-stricken dock-worker who had spoken. The civilians were actually half-way there to believing the tin-can. Suddenly it hit her; the thing had to be going for divide and conquer. It knew there were terrified civilians in here, those who would more easily buy into lies. "Don't be a fool, man. We give them the crate, and they will open fire on this warehouse with their ship!" she rebuffed. "The crate is the only thing that's stopping them from using explosives! The only reason it is here, talking big, is because something is up and it is in an awful rush to finish this. Think about it." She had a feeling exactly what was making the machines rush. There was only one thing it could be. The machines could have picked up incoming Alliance backup, and the only reason she was not hearing about it from Joker was because right now, he had to be busy coordinating things in orbit.
"She's right," Adenauer added. "No deal, robot."
"We gave you a choice." The machine stated as its MACs rose to waist-level firing position.
Shepard ducked behind her crate again as everyone around them hastened into their cover.
The black unit opened fire, spraying down the crates. The other two geth moved in. The marines returned fire as best they could.
"Shepard we have to bring that thing down. Now." Nihlus' said, suddenly very close right next to her ear.
Chattering sounded and an explosion followed as one of the smaller units collapsed. Then the black unit's MACs ceased cycling.
"It's gone into cool!" someone shouted.
The second of the smaller units gave a loud chatter before going down as well.
The assault rifles went dead for a split second, and then some came back, all aimed on the black robot. Shepard peeked around her stack of crates. She could see the automaton's shields flaring, a great big cocoon of periwinkle-colored energy. Then its MACs unfolded again and the machine opened fire.
For all its firepower, Shepard could not help but marvel at its lack of accuracy. It moved and shifted targets frequently, the spray restarting in erratic pulses. The thing was just spraying with the hope of hitting someone, but when it turned on any single marine, they would duck behind cover. The spray also seemed to lag; there was a noticeable delay in its responses to everything. Why was it so slow to process where it was being shot from? Shepard hummed; so far as she could see even the other geth were quicker than that.
The marines returned fire from angles where it was safe to poke out, yet the return fire was doing nothing at all, the black unit's kinetic barrier was not failing. Those shields were singularly the most impressive part; just how much power did it have to keep them up?
The unit turned again, both its MACs leveled on one of the tall vertical stacks in the barricade as it opened fire. The stack budged under the concentrated force, the crates began to shred, sending bits of material and then seed flying. Then, with a resounding crack, one of the emptying crates buckled under the weight of the one above it, and the full crate began to slide. Shepard saw it flare periwinkle, but it still slid, hit the ground with a heavy thud, and burst open, instantly spilling its contents and filling the air with grain dust. The MACs fell silent again.
"Jenkins!"
"Martinez!"
The sound of Kaidan's voice joining Adenauer's made Shepard freeze. The silence lingered.
"I'm fine… but my foot is stuck." Jenkins called back from somewhere in the pile of grain.
Shepard could see Kaidan now. He raised one hand as his whole body erupted in a periwinkle-colored biotic glow. The fallen crate lifted off the ground. With a turn of his arm Kaidan moved it aside and set it down, and the glow around him dimmed. A moment later it flared anew, even brighter, and with a flick of his hand Kaidan scattered the grain every which way.
There lay one of the two-twelfth marines and Jenkins. Now that he was free, Jenkins attempted to move, but as soon as he shifted his left foot, he yelped loudly and remained prone. The other marine was not moving at all, there was blood welling up from his mouth. It looked like he took the brunt of the crate's impact across his back. Kaidan kneeled by his side and pulled up his omni-tool, but a second later he looked up and shook his head.
Shepard turned to look at Jenkins. He had rolled onto his side; hand clinging to his shin, his left foot at an odd angle, ankle clearly broken. In an instant she could only see red.
"The first of many," the black unit announced, malicious and sneering.
Shepard had to contain the explosion of fury that threatened to erupt from her. Today would not go the way of Elysium. "Laugh while you're still able, tin can!" She hissed, as she reached behind her back to the pouch that had her grenades. Nihlus was right; they had to bring that thing down, now more than ever.
"We do not laugh," The robot replied after a heartbeat, body turning, left MAC unfolding. Shepard swung her arm in an arc and sent her grenade flying. It landed at the thing's feet and began to ping. The MAC opened fire, peppering her cover with rounds. The other marines opened fire as well, spraying the machine down. Shepard dropped into a low crouch and scooted sideways to the closest waist-high section as the tall stack of crates she had been hiding behind began to shred. Then the grenade exploded and the MAC went silent. The stack of crates she had been hiding behind toppled with a resounding thud, more crates bursting open on impact, sending even more grain dust into the air.
"Hold your fire!" Adenauer called.
Instantly the marines ceased firing.
Shepard chanced looking up, the robot was still mostly upright, but the blast had ripped its right leg off at the knee. Some of the bullets had peppered its form as well, causing it to leak that white fluid the geth seemed to have instead of blood. It was trying to balance using its MACs like crutches. She rose to her knees and brought up the twins, flicked her laser sights, and opened fire into the other knee. After four shots it gave way and detached, sending the black geth crashing to the ground. She was on her feet and over the barricade in an instant, emptying the rest of her shots into the tubing that connected its MACs to its body, severing the power lines, rendering the weapons useless.
The unit raised its head, yellow lights focused on her. "Your victory will be short-lived." It announced.
"Can the bravado, machine. You are done." The twins smoked now, clips at capacity, but she had the geth at her mercy. She pressed the releases and rolled her wrists, sending the smoking thermal clips to the floor before she holstered the guns.
"I will remember you, Human," the machine said.
Shepard reached for a fresh pair of clips from the pouch at the small of her back and slipped them into her guns. "Oh? You will?" she asked, kneeling as she drew Sin, to press the muzzle to the machine's head. "Everyone else I've ever shot can't remember much anymore… but, I suppose it makes sense you would." The idiot thing did not even know what it let slip with that one. "Well, remember this…" she hissed, not bothering to tamp down her anger. "Show yourself again, and I'll send you right back. In pieces." She pulled the trigger. The machine's head exploded, splattering yet more white liquid.
Shepard got to her feet and reached up to swipe the splatter off her face shield as she holstered Sin. She was acutely aware of the silence around her, but right now she was too angry to care. "Nihlus, are there any more of them?" She asked as she turned to face the Spectre. His expression was perfectly blank, but his eyes were intense. Shepard should have been worried about what he might think of her display, but right then she could not be bothered to care.
"Not at the moment," he replied after a moment.
"Good." She jumped back over the barricade and slumped into a seating position, back to the crates. Her eyes landed on the packaged beacon. She officially hated that thing with a passion. Too many had died fighting over that piece of technology. She sincerely hoped the Council would be happy. They could choke on it too.
Her communicator scratched, "Normandy to Shepard, come in Commander!" Joker's voice cut across.
Shepard raised her hand to her helmet, still glaring murder at the crate. "Shepard here, what's going on Joker?"
"Guess your reinforcements!" Joker said gleefully.
Shepard's took a deep breath to calm her fury, "Now's not the time Joker…"
"Fine," He sobered instantly, "The Kilimanjaro just arrived!"
Shepard froze, shocked.
"What is it?" Adenauer wondered, instantly worried.
She looked up, meeting the lieutenant's gaze, "My pilot called. The Kilimanjaro is here. Knowing her Captain as I do-"
"Commander! The Geth ship is moving!"
Shepard was on her feet and pacing in an instant, and the rest of what she would have said, she swallowed.
"What now?" Adenauer asked.
"The geth ship is moving." She was not in the habit of lying when it came to such things.
Everyone in the hangar froze, including the civilians.
"Captain Shepard wishes to know if you secured the objective," Joker asked, now completely professional.
"The package is secure." What was her mother up to?
"Roger. EDI do your thing," Joker replied.
"Engaging cybernetic warfare suite." EDI cut across the link.
Everyone around her seemed to hold their collective breath. Shepard glanced at Nihlus. His suit was synched to the channel they used with the Normandy, so he could hear everything, but his expression gave nothing away.
"The dropship is flying away from your position and climbing." Joker announced.
Shepard could hardly believe her ear. "The Kili got the geth running scared; they're not coming here!"
There was a moment of disbelieving silence which soon broke for cheering.
"We did it!" one of the marines shouted.
"Oorah!" a few others affirmed.
The civilians turned to hugging each other.
Shepard sought out her team, affirming that they were alright. Jenkins was still lying on the ground, and despite being in much pain, stuck up a thumb to say he was alright. Ashley looked tired, there was grain dust all over her armor, but she smiled and nodded. Kaidan was by Jenkins, likewise covered in dust. She saw him close his eyes, reach under his eye-shield, and pinch the bridge of his nose.
"They just hit the exosphere," Joker announced. "Wow look at them run. Like a bunch of scared… Oh shit!"
"What is it is Joker?" Shepard wondered.
The cheering and celebrations stopped cold, all eyes were suddenly on her again.
"The Kili fired her main gun! Core hit! Has to be! The Geth ship just exploded!"
Shepard blinked, stunned. Her mother had to be livid to order fire on a tiny frigate from the biggest mass accelerator cannon the Alliance could build a ship around. "The Kilimanjaro fired her main gun on the Geth. Core hit."
The cheering resumed, now even some of the marines joined the celebrations, thumping each other on the shoulders and back and clinging, arms slung over shoulders, with the sort of exuberance Shepard would not have thought them capable of given how harried they appeared just minutes before.
"First Elysium, now Eden Prime, I believe impossible odds are your specialty." Nihlus said.
Shepard jumped; his voice was practically right over her ear. "Don't praise me, Nihlus. This victory belongs to everyone here equally."
"Ah. Of course."
Shepard looked up at him, and it was like he had been waiting for that, because he grinned. Shepard returned the expression, but she did not feel it. This whole thing really did not feel like a win. Soon the cheering would abate, moods would go down, and people would realize what they had just gone through.
There would be fallout from this mess. The other shoe was yet to drop, and odds were, it would find a way to hit her over the head.
Author Notes: There you have it, my twist on Eden Prime, in a manner I consider more "realistic". As much as I love Mass Effect, in the actual game that mission was fraught with the liberal use of the idiot ball. Basically characters making basic mistakes that no one in their position and with their implied training ought to be making, just for the sake of plot direction. That or the writers were too civilian to think these things through.
General Notes:
Ship Sizes – I use a certain specific size comparison sheet for my ship sizes. Many sizes are not given in canon, and this way I have a consistent system to build up on. If you are interested, look up Euderion on DevArt. Shout-out to that person for helping me!
Mission Scope – I want to address this right now. When I think about Eden Prime in game, how it was staged there, compared to what the codex lists as it population numbers… Saren's attack on Eden Prime was small, and somewhat over-inflated. I'm treating it as what it is, a shocking, brazen attack by someone no one saw in 300 years, but not "they almost wiped out the colony!" event.
Chapter Notes:
QEC Communication – Quantum Entanglement Communication uses the principles of quantum mechanics, paired particles "entangled" together, when the quantum state of one is changed, the other reacts instantly, even across vast distances. Many pairs of such particles working in tandem can send things in binary. It is expensive and limited by the fact that particles can only entangle with each other. But it's good for secure ship-to-HQ communication.
Sharpshooters vs. Snipers – Ashley is a sharpshooter, Shepard is a sniper. There's a key difference. Sharpshooters have skill with precision shooting, but they do not have the field craft skills of snipers. Said field training entails picking spots, knowing how to use the terrain, how to disguise self, how to maintain one's hiding spot, etc. Sharpshooters are often part of a unit, helping with those tricky targets. Snipers are more lone-wolf, and sometimes even their allies don't know where they're hiding.
Gravity (g) – G is a standard unit denoting gravity, [1g = Earth's gravity] or [1g = 9.8 m/s^2].
Standard Atmosphere (atm) – ATM is a standard unit for atmosphere density, and thus pressure, where [1 atm = Earth's atmosphere]. Also measurable in bars as [1 atm = 1 bar], pascals [1 atm = 101,325 Pa], or kilopascals [1 atm = 101.325 kPa]. The latter is how it appears on weather reports.
Exosphere – This is the outer layer of a body's atmosphere, where gas atoms are trapped by gravity, but they do not have the density to behave as a gas. They're there, but too few and far in between. It is also quite universal, as even bodies with a "trace" atmosphere have a definable exosphere. Earth's moon is an example. This makes this layer an ill-defined transitional zone in between a proper "gaseous atmosphere" and "hard vacuum".
Ship Mass Accelerator Cannons – For the record, the Geth dropship is about 171m long. The Kilimanjaro-class is 1,000m long. A Dreadnought's main gun runs the length of the ship and accelerates slugs via magnetic rails. From ME2 where we overhear a gunny drilling people on dreadnought guns we know that when the Everest-class dreadnought (888 m) fires a 20kg slug, the slug reaches a velocity around 1 – 1.3% the speed of light (1% being 2,997,924 m/s – 1.3% being 3,897,301.95 m/s). For the Kilimanjaro, being newer, I benchmark it being able to accelerate such a slug to 2% of c, to hit harder, and they can modulate the acceleration at quarter increments.