The air within the Eclipse mercenary space station was oppressive, laden with the scent of gun oil and the low hum of advanced electronics. In the dimly lit atrium, Raika, a fresh Eclipse recruit, strained to listen to the tense exchange between their leader, Mr. Solis, and the enigmatic businessman, Arius Farren. Rumours had swirled about this meeting – a high-stakes deal or a reckoning for past betrayals, some said, but no one knew for certain. The specifics mattered little - their orders were simple: eliminate Arius Farren.
Despite being fully armed and prepared, Raika couldn't shake off a persistent doubt as she and her fellow Eclipse soldiers awaited their orders. Lysa, brimming with youthful bravado, boasted, "There's one of him and a dozen of us. He's not even armed. How hard can it be?" Raika wanted to believe that, but something about this mission felt off. Unlike her comrades, she had joined the Solis' new Eclipse to protect, not to persecute. "Shouldn't we question why one unarmed man is considered such a threat?" she pondered silently, her resolve tinged with uncertainty. But even now, her thoughts punctuated the latest in a long line of questions: of the organization's manufacturing of arms and murky pharmaceuticals, of the hunts for those supposed evils that threatened their lives.
Valen, a grizzled former STG operative, hissed. "Stay focused. Solis wouldn't involve us if this were as simple as it appears."
Raika's ears strained to make out the muffled voices leaking from the meeting chamber, but she detected Solis's words laced with an edge. The tension peaked when Solis emerged, signalling the go-ahead for Valen and his squad to enter.
Solis paused at the door after the squad had filed in, casting a final glance back toward their target. "They have your name–," Raika heard the Eclipse leader say, followed by a word her translator could not decipher, "...They've seen your face. They know of your manipulations, twisting the course of humanity with your deceitful guidance. You are a corrupting force, a shadow that nips at our every step, leading us away from our destined path and onto your eternally doomed one. This is where your trail of shadows ends, 'Arius'. The time to purge your darkness is now, starting with your most deeply tainted pawns: Commander Shepard, the Normandy, and, if need be, with the downfall of every soul you've touched. Goodbye." The Eclipse leader then shut the door and departed, flanked by his personal guards.
Krys scanned the dimly lit corridor with sharp, calculating eyes. 'Is the area secured?' he demanded, his voice cutting through the tense silence, as he adjusted the grip on his weapon, ready for whatever lay ahead. Next to him, Reya nodded, her omni-tool glowing in the dim light. Raika observed their efficiency, feeling a dissonance between their precision and the righteousness of their cause. Dominic's orders echoed in her head, a mantra of destruction against a supposed enemy of humanity. Yet, Raika's conscience whispered doubts.
Lieutenant Krys glanced at the time on his omni-tool, waiting and listening for the sound of gunfire within the room to signal the end of the unfortunate Mr. Farren.
As they braced for action, the atrium they stood in suddenly plunged into darkness before the red glow of emergency lights automatically switched on. The waiting teams raised their heads in unison, unsettled by the untimely power failure, before gunfire echoed from inside the room, prolonged and chaotic, before ceasing.
"Status?" Krys commanded, tension in his voice.
Reya, frantic at her omni-tool, reported, "Localized EMP knocked out the lights. Comms are down, but the perimeter is intact."
"Personal lights on, now," Krys ordered.
Helmet lights flickered on, and the collective light beams were strong enough to illuminate the space around them. Krys called out to Valen, but only silence answered.
Raika's pulse hammered in her ears, a relentless drumbeat of fear and anticipation. She gripped her weapon tighter, feeling its cold, hard surface as a slight tremor ran through her hand—a tangible sign of the adrenaline flooding her system. Their straightforward task was veering off course.
Krys tried one of the boardroom doors but found it to be locked. Unease evident, he signalled team Bravo for a breach. Elara, the team leader, directed her squad – Grizz, the explosives expert; Kaelen, the sharpshooter; and Rell, a melee combatant. "Remember, standard breach procedure. Two at the front, two flanking."
With practiced movements, Grizz set a charge on the door and armed it. Elara nodded, and as the door blew open, the team disappeared through the smoke-filled air into the dark boardroom in a coordinated sweep.
Silence, then Kaelen's voice shouted out, "Alpha team is down! Where-" His words were cut short by a fresh bout of gunfire and heavy thuds.
Silence fell again.
Krys cursed under his breath; something was profoundly wrong. "Spread out," he ordered tersely. "Raya, once we have comms, call for…"
Krys' order was shattered as one of Grizz's explosive charges placed from inside the room detonated with a deafening roar. Shards of metal and insulation flew through the air toward the group as a boardroom wall blew apart, leaving shaded smoke and disorientation in its violent wake. A shadowy figure, swift and deadly, struck Krys with a long blade she recognized had belonged to Rell. Raya had her weapon knocked from her arms before she could react to the movements, and a well-placed strike materialized from the smoke and knocked her to the floor, unmoving.
Lysa, their team's sharpshooter, had backed up and aimed, squeezing off rounds that were impossible to miss at their range, but her shots seemed ineffective against the overshadowed assailant. As blood spurted from their target's limbs, Raika watched the fresh holes rapidly heal, the flesh knitting together before her eyes before the cloaked figure rushed towards its would-be murderer.
Lysa's screams jolted Raika from her stunned immobility, the feeling of imminent doom boring down on every inch of her skin, her instinct screeching at her to flee with her life. She scrambled for the exit, her hands shaking against her omni-tool as she rushed to unlock the exit doors, wondering if she would survive the moment, not daring to spend a heartbeat looking behind for the enemy that was undoubtedly turning towards her next. Yanking the door close again and slamming the manual override to lock, she gasped for breath, feeling a momentary sense of safety. But as the doors re-locked, a massive booming sounded from the other side of the door, shaking the portal's frame. Another followed it, and then another, each impact warping the door's structural frame.
Raika backed away and scrambled with fearful tears streaming from her eyes, realizing the door would hold at bay her untimely end for scarcely a minute more. She ran down the dark, labyrinthine corridors, her mind racing, doors passing her in a blur. To her right suddenly appeared illuminated faces, and she screamed despite herself. It was another team running towards her, having heard the alarms. She recognized their gear: they were a more specialized unit, trained specifically for high-threat targets.
"Alpha, Bravo and Charlie teams are down!" she shouted to them, her lungs gasping and voice shaking. "He.. it - they're coming this way!"
Without a moment's hesitation, the team's leader, a man named Jareth, immediately began barking orders. "Torch," he relayed to the heavy hoisting a large machine gun, "lay down suppressive fire once we have a visual. Specter, get yourself up to the second level and secure high ground. Wraith, with me. We'll choke him at this entrance. You," he ordered Raika, "stay behind me." Jareth positioned himself opposite Wraith and looked down his sights with a steely gaze, ready to face anything that emerged from the doorway. The lights from their headlights converged, lighting the entranceway well.
Under the alarm's steady blare, Raika's heart beat rapidly in her chest, waiting for the monster to burst into space and right into their crossfire, but as they waited and the clock ticked, nothing did. Jareth motioned to Wraith to open the door, and the mercenary cautiously moved to the portal, hit the control, and looked down the open corridor with their rifle.
"It's clear," Wraith reported.
"Then let's move up," Jareth ordered, gathering his team. "The boardrooms aren't far."
The team advanced block by block, silent in their maneuvering, the targeting lasers from their weapons and beams of light scanning each dark room, corridor and closet for their quarry. It was soon that a trail of bloody footprints appeared ahead of them.
"Blood, and lots of it," Waith reported, pointing his personal light source towards the ground, finding the trail of escaped bodily fluids leading away from the boardroom block into an adjacent direction. "It leads to the commons area. Couldn't have gone far with wounds like this."
The squad followed the tracks cautiously to the doors of the commons area. The alarms still blared, and the emergency lights still cast dim, eerie shadows along the corridors. A large, bloody handprint was on one of the double doors leading to the commons. Jareth gave the signal, and Torch and Wraith pushed open the doors into a darkened space.
Raika heard one of them swear darkly under their breath. What they found was beyond comprehension. A chaotic force had swept through the space: tables and chairs were overturned, their comrades scattered and broken, discarded like dolls, the evidence of the skirmish displayed through the burn marks and blood splatters.
Wraith turned over one of their kin lying facedown in a pool of their own blood and shook his head. "These were professionals. He took them out like they were nothing."
Specter crouched over a few more bodies, identifying them. "I don't see any bodies that match the description of our target. How is he still alive? Farren should have long collapsed from blood loss."
"The intel we got was wrong," Raika stammered out, feeling the walls of the station drawing oppressively close. "Our target isn't human. Lysa tagged him. He was bleeding, and then, he looked like he just… regenerated somehow."
"That's impossible. Our target isn't krogan."
"I know what I saw," she hissed back. "Farren had holes in him, and then he didn't."
"Listen, I get it. You were scared, and maybe you think you saw…"
"Oh, fuck you!"
"Save it, both of you!" Jareth ordered sternly. "We need a handle on the situation first. Wraith, Why haven't comms or lighting returned?"
"The comms should have returned by now. The lights, though, it's because of these cheap, pre-fab blocks they used for this portion of the station," Wraith explained, knocking one of the thin walls with his knuckles. "The junction blocks located in each section are vulnerable to localized EMPs. Once we cross over to the inner station, the security office there should be able to hit the breakers to restore power. They'll have a direct wired line to comms, too."
"Then that's where we'll head. We need to–"
The interruption came with a crash as Torch's giant machine gun fell from his hands. The heavy was clawing at his throat as he sank to his knees, his cries dying like the life being spilt onto the floor. The group saw the flash of the blade too late, and the darting of their light sources too erratic to properly see their enemy - they only glimpsed limbs covered in blood, perhaps purposefully - the red emergency lighting had uniformed their target's appearance to a two-dimensional, dark, muted maroon, blending well with the long shadows cast by their torches. It was a sudden, startling realization that they were being stalked while they stood in the dark commons room. While Raika's scream stuck in her throat, Jareth and Wraith began firing wildly into the darkness, their muzzle flashes strobing the interior in brief flashes of white.
"Go!" Jareth ordered Raika, roughly pushing her toward the exit to snap her out of her stupor. "Get the security office and call for backup!"
Raika stumbled through the dark alone as she heard behind her, "Specter, do you have eyes on him?"
"Got him on heat!" she heard the response, "He's lit up like a-", before the sound of gunfire and shouts drowned out any words as she carried herself through the exit doors and deeper down the pitch corridors.
Raika's rapid footsteps echoed in the deserted corridor, her breath coming in sharp gasps as the adrenaline surged through her veins. She had barely rounded the corner when the security office came into view. Her hopes sunk further: the office was dark, with no living soul in sight. Someone had emptied an entire clip at something and missed, judging from the horizontal line of holes in the wall, and the lifeless body slumped at the other end of it. A large hole had been blasted through one of the windows, striking an officer on the other side of the plexiglass. Still seated, the body was missing a portion of its torso; it was a gruesome and nauseating sight. The likely cause of the blast was at her feet, a damaged and blood-spattered red-accented rifle of a model she didn't recognize.
The doors to the inner station were still sealed, as was the door to the security office. Realizing hiding was her only option, she slammed the butt of her gun and then her shoulder into the weakened glass around the hole to expand it just enough for her to force her body through. Hurried, she tumbled through the enlarged void and onto the floor within the dark office, then scrambled to hide under the console counter. Almost forgetting that her torch was still on, she turned off the light and focused on quieting her loud breathing, listening for danger.
She didn't have to wait long. From her hiding place, she heard the sounds of a door sliding open but no following footsteps. She breathed as quietly as she could, shutting her eyes as she tried to make herself as small as possible, to fade from all perception.
A gritty voice pierced the silence from the shadow-drenched space just beyond the jagged edges of the broken glass, alarmingly close. "I know you're here," it announced, its timbre laced with a disquieting calm. Raika's heart thundered in her chest, her breath hitched. Instinctively, her hand clamped over her mouth, stifling the scream that threatened to betray her hiding spot.
The voice came again, a whisper in the darkness, yet it filled the room as if the speaker were right beside her. "Your sweat, I can smell it. Fear colours it," it remarked. There was a pause, a quiet so deafening it seemed to press against her eardrums. "And your heartbeat—it's loud in the silence. It tells me you're terrified."
The words felt invasive as if the monster wasn't just encroaching on her physical hiding place but also slipping into the recesses of her mind, reading her fears like an open book. Raika fought to control her breathing, to quiet the loud drumming of her heart that felt like it was echoing off the walls, betraying her presence with each thudding beat. But despite her efforts, her breaths came out ragged and uneven, each one a tremulous whisper in the oppressive silence of the room.
"I've noticed you're the only member who hasn't opted to eliminate me upon encounter immediately. I find that anomalous, especially given the moral proclivities of this organization's employees." The voice gave a dry, throaty chuckle. "There's no use in hiding any longer," the voice softened, a hint of empathy threading through the gritty timbre. "Please come out. I want to talk. I will not harm you while you adhere to the same principle."
Slowly, Raika lowered her hand from her mouth, her pulse still racing but curiosity piquing through the veil of her fear. The darkness remained impenetrable, a barrier between unseen observer and unwilling participant, yet the voice felt almost comforting, a paradox she couldn't quite understand.
She edged slightly, peering over the counter, yet saw nothing but the inky black shadows cast by the dim emergency lights. Raika edged slightly higher behind the counter, her whisper sharp with a mix of fear and defiance. "Why should I trust you?" The question hung in the air, laden with suspicion and the weight of her precarious position.
The voice sighed, a sound that seemed to carry a weight of sorrow and resignation. "Because, like you, I am caught in a web of deception and conflict. You have been thrown against a supposedly known enemy purposely ill-equipped, and I am being toyed with by the feeble attempts. We are both being played to some design. I seek an end to this madness, not to perpetuate it."
Inside Raika, a tumultuous battle raged between her ingrained skepticism and a gut instinct whispering that there might be truth in the creature's words. It was a war of belief against logic, played out in the silent space between her rapid heartbeats. His words resonated with her own doubts, her own fears about the path she had found herself on. "You speak of madness and deception. Are you saying Eclipse is... misled?"
"Not just Eclipse," The voice clarified, his voice closer now, as if he had moved just beyond the barrier of broken glass and darkness. "The galaxy teeters on the brink of ruin, manipulated by the Reapers' unseen hands, who treat lives as mere pawns in their cosmic game," The voice grew sombre, every word laced with the weight of unseen battles. "And Dominic, blinded by ambition, unknowingly plays into their scheme."
"How do you know all this?" she asked, her curiosity now fully alight, burning away the remnants of her initial terror.
"Because I've seen it," the creature replied, its voice tinged with a pain that seemed borne of personal loss and betrayal. "And I've fought against it, at great cost."
Perhaps it was her trusting nature or idealism, Raika felt a tug of empathy, an unexpected connection forming in the darkness between them. She realized then that the supposed enemy might be the only person who truly understood the shadowy precipice on which they all stood.
The voice continued, delving deeper into the heart of the matter. "Dominic is orchestrating the assassination of Council Spectres, which included the owner of this rifle I designed." She heard the scrape of an object against the floor on the other side. "Did you see it lying here?"
"Yes," Raika acknowledged, recalling the unfamiliar rifle.
"It belonged to Spectre Aracus, one of the finest in the Council's employ. Dominic has now targeted Spectre Shepard and her Normandy's crew, of which I am a member. You're aware of them, I presume? Of their work and reputation?"
"I am," she confirmed, her mind racing with the implications.
"Then you grasp the peril we face if Dominic's plans come to fruition. The Reapers' indoctrination has seeped deeper than we feared, twisting even the minds of those like Dominic who believe they're acting for the greater good."
The conversation paused, a moment of heavy silence settling between them as the gravity of the creature's claims took root. Was what it said true? Was it a lie? It could, without a doubt, end her life quickly - was she being kept alive because she was of use to it?
"And your name?" the voice asked, shifting the topic slightly, yet the question's significance lingered in the air, charged with the potential of newfound alliance.
"Raika."
"A pleasure, albeit under less than ideal circumstances, Raika. You can call me Arius."
Steeling herself, she made a decision that would have been unthinkable just moments before. She stood, stepping up, her posture one of cautious openness. "If the Reapers have indoctrinated Dominic, then what does that make you? How have you resisted their influence? What are you, Arius?"
Emerging from the obscurity beyond the fractured pane, two slender, luminous rings of green fixated upon her, unwavering. It was only after a heartbeat of unnerving silence that Raika understood—those were his eyes, piercing through the darkness, fixated intently upon her. The sight, so alien and unblinking, unsettled her deeply, a stark reminder of the otherworldly reality now confronting her.
"Fair questions," he acknowledged, his voice steady. "In so few words, I am a remnant from an era long since faded, belonging to a people once gifted with remarkable longevity, a glimpse of which you've seen. I have been locked in a struggle against the Reapers for more years than you can fathom, recently joining Spectre Shepard to accomplish this. Despite the odds, I've narrowly evaded their manipulation. However, Dominic's frequent interactions with the Reapers, as his words suggest, indicate he's likely succumbing to indoctrination. The Reapers wield their influence with a terrifying subtlety," Arius's tone dropped, tinged with reflection. "They warp minds, coerce allegiance, and pit kin against kin. Dominic might think he's championing humanity's cause, yet he's unwittingly become a pawn for our true adversaries. Given this reality, I fear we are all in grave danger aboard this station. Make no mistake, if the Reapers win, we all lose, and I will not have all my efforts undone by misplaced righteousness."
Raika, absorbing the gravity of his words, ventured one more question, "Why does Dominic want you dead?"
Arius's response was laced with sombre resignation. "He believes me to be the harbinger of humanity's downfall."
"...and are you?" she asked.
His admission came with a heavy silence. "I do not seek absolution or to rewrite the narratives that have taken hold. From a certain perspective, his claim is not devoid entirely of truth… but Dominic's concerns lack intention and the context of millennia. The truth is far more nuanced. My actions, flawed as they may have been and leading to unintended consequences, were driven by a desire to guide and protect - to prevent the kind of devastation wrought by the Reapers across countless cycles. Despite my actions here to survive, I am not the villain in this story, nor will my passing perform any miracles in stopping the Reaper harvest."
Arius's voice trailed off into the darkness, leaving Raika to grapple with the enormity of the situation. The shadows around them seemed to thicken, as if the very air was laden with the weight of his confession. Raika found herself at a crossroads, her duty to Eclipse clashing with the dawning realization that their mission might be fundamentally flawed, manipulated by unseen forces far beyond their comprehension. Her training and beliefs warred with the evidence of her own eyes and the testimony of a being who, until moments ago, she had been tasked to eliminate. "What can we do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "If Dominic is indoctrinated, if the Reapers are manipulating events to this extent, how do we fight back?"
"The first step is to survive," Arius said, his luminous eyes still fixed on her. "We must escape this station and warn Spectre Shepard. The Council must be made aware of the depth of the Reapers' infiltration. Due to their recent changes and the war, Eclipse holds an increasing number of protection contracts across the galaxy for high-value resources. They may all be at risk."
.
Dominic Solis stood with an imposing presence behind one of his lieutenants, their attention fixed on the array of advanced viewing screens arrayed before them. These screens streamed live feeds from surveillance cameras scattered throughout the station, each one a witness to the chaos Dominic had meticulously orchestrated.
"Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta teams appear down, Sir," the lieutenant reported, his voice betraying no emotion, "with the exception of one recruit - Raika Voss."
Dominic's lips curved into a slight, knowing smile. "Those losses were anticipated," he affirmed coolly, his gaze never leaving the screen that displayed the aftermath in the commons area. "An efficient method to cull the ranks of those unsuitable for the future I envision. And Raika Voss—her actions provide an interesting variable."
He paused, watching as the screens flickered with the movements. "Is the creature still contained?"
"Affirmative, Sir. The outer station remains sealed. However, containment is temporary without direct intervention. Shall we initiate a venting of that sector?"
Dominic shook his head slightly, his eyes reflecting a dark calculation. "No. I wish to observe its full capabilities. Besides, there's much to learn from how it interacts with Raika. Continue monitoring when possible and ensure every possible moment is documented for analysis."
The lieutenant nodded, executing the commands with a few swift keystrokes. "And the commanders? There are whispers of unrest, concerns about the methods we're employing."
A silent moment passed before Dominic spoke, his voice firm and authoritative. "Let them whisper. They'll soon see the fruits of our efforts."
As Dominic turned away from the screens, a small device in his hand vibrated discreetly. He glanced at the message displayed. "Phase two is ready. Call in Omega team."