"This is Nihlus Kryik, recording everything I see for future archiving. Sensor logs confirmed authentic by my voice print, Palavan's Honor," he said the last and got the chirp as the voice print was stamped onto the sensor logs. The black box would record it over and over again on the logs, preventing tampering unless you were really good. It would prevent anyone from saying the logs were false, supposedly, and even if he fell, no one could deny what was going on here.
What was going on was disgusting. Some would, of course, probably say it was no less than the Terrans and those traitors who'd joined with them deserved, but Nihlus knew too much to really believe that to be the truth. Besides, even the worst pirates he'd ever known didn't deserve what was happening down there. He saw a few people, both micronian and micronized Terrans, being dragged out of their homes by geth platforms, already dead, or very close to it. Most found themselves impaled on those weird tripod things, which expanded into huge spikes. His sensors, far away as he was, couldn't give details one what those things were doing to the corpses, but he was sure it wasn't good.
For full sized Terrans, the procedure seemed different. Not surprising given the size difference between them and their neighbors. They were dragged outside as well, but then laid down in long rows of bodies. Helmets were then removed from those wearing them, and then one of the units would go down the line of bodies, and place some of the spikes, two to five depending on size and age of the Terran, on the back of their necks, upside down so the legs were in the air. As he watched, a few were deployed, the bodies jostling a little as the spikes penetrated their flesh, but then going completely still.
"Eden Prime, one of the largest Terran colonies, which has a population of almost one-hundred-thousand full sized Terrans, and about as many of various other races, is gone. I'm not getting an accurate count, since I'm giving the colony itself a wide berth on my way to the spaceport, but it looks like a total loss. The enemy who did it appear to be geth warframes, but while the design is correct, these are not normal units," as he spoke, a small display in front of him lit up with details on the units he could see.
"These contain little or no protoculture for one thing, which would seem to indicate that they couldn't transform, and yet, I've seen a few shift forms while I've been watching. The eezo signatures must be massive as well, given how large the mass effect fields these things use are. I have no idea how they're doing that, but it stands to reason that whatever that strange ship was had something to do with it," as he spoke, he watched as first two, then dozens of the warframes took to the skies, going over the horizon that he knew the team was at.
"It would seem, Garrus' Team has their full and undivided attention. Hopefully that will make this easier," he said, turning his veritech more directly towards the port. Within minutes, he was there, staring down at the place, and finding it odd to say the least. The colony itself was trashed, with huge piles of rubble, several still burning fires, and obvious signs of battle. The port had none of those signs. Instead, it looked almost normal, at least until he spotted something that actually got a rise from his stomach, that being the pile of desiccated bodies that had been piled up near the entrance.
"I can see a large mound of corpses now, that appear to have been drained of their internal fluids, given the tight skin and general darkening. Most of them appear to be asari in origin, but I'm seeing batarians, turians, some volus, and a few other races as well. This is, disturbing, and I hypothesize that this might be what those spikes are doing," he spoke into his unit, bringing himself down a bit away from the pile, and looking straight on it, focusing what sensors he could on the bodies.
"No Terrans on the pile at all, micronized or full sized. Could mean something, considering Terrans are the majority population," he said, and then pulled a lever in the cockpit, shifting from fighter to guardian mode easily. Slowing considerably, he quietly began to make his way towards the port, shifting every sensor to passive as he did so. No need to announce himself, after all the work Garrus and the others were putting in to keep him undetected after all, and besides, it didn't take his sensors long to pick up what he was looking for.
"No, we keep looking. If Sovereign finds it on that ship, so be it, but I won't wait in case it is here," said a familiar sounding voice, over speakers rather than a transmission, so it was safe to assume that person doing the speaking felt there was no one around to hear them talk. The response to his statement was a series of harsh electronic beeping that Nihlus' computer translated as geth complex, the language of the geth when they were still a bunch of runtimes, rather than single intelligences. The odd thing was his computer said the syntax was off, compared to what the geth spoke right now, including Legion back on the Normandy. As if the one speaking hadn't updated their language profile in some time.
"Well then, waste the effort! We have to find it, if it's here!" demanded the voice again, and then Nihlus overheard the sound of moving crates that were then tossed aside roughly, spilling their contents out onto the spaceport floor.
"Be careful you dim bit! We need the beacon intact!" shouted the voice, and Nihlus sighed. Obviously, these geth didn't enjoy being ordered about by the speaker, whose voice was familiar, but the turian just couldn't place it. Still, the response of the geth was to more gently move around, and Nihlus took advantage of their movements to get closer, hovering silently over the walls of the port, and getting a visual on his targets.
There were twelve of them in all, including eleven warframes and one wanzer of obvious Council make. Heck, the passive spectrograph spoke of the thing being some of the latest alloys, stuff designed to take a veritech on in hand to hand. Whoever was in there was either rich, powerful, or a SPECTRE, none of those being good options, all things considered. Still, the wanzer's back was to Nihlus, who watched as the group continued to open crates, taking about a minute with each one thanks to the locks on them, instead of ripping them open as the units could have done.
His veritech took in every sight before him, storing the data in its black box, that he prepared to burst transmit at the first sign of being spotted. This was important, and all told, he actually considered it more important than his own life at this point. Someone powerful from Council Space had been at the fore of this attack. Not one of the major powers had been willing to challenge the Terrans since the Titan War, and he needed to make certain of who this was, and what factions they represented, especially considering the geth with them.
Watching silently for several minutes, Nihlus kept trying to get a good angle on the wanzer's cockpit, without moving himself. Unfortunately, even when he was finally able to get an angle on the thing, the cockpit proved to be tinted with anti-scanner webbing. That made the cockpit a bit weaker than typical, but it did mean no one could identify you. Probably meant the voice over the speakers was being modulated too, so no voice print would match. That just made his job all the harder, but not impossible.
Before he could take that train of thought any farther, a series of explosions tore through the air. Shifting as quietly as he could, he kept his sensors scanning the scene before him, while still turning his unit's head. What he saw with the main cameras was quite interesting. The horizon was lit up like a festival back home, with a seeming strobe effect of flashing lights, though too distant for his passive sensors to tell him much about them. Luckily for the SPECTRE, his targets were more forthcoming with information, one of the geth below speaking in that electronic tone of his.
"What?!" demanded the wanzer pilot, stepping away from the crate they'd been trying to hack. The geth then repeated, probably tone for tone, what it had just said.
"I heard you, but I can't believe it. All of them? You're certain?" asked the pilot, and this time the geth's tone showed off its annoyance at being questioned.
"I have to be certain, it's a commander's prerogative. Alright then, all of them are down. That means we need to activate the contingency plan," as he spoke, the other geth gathered close, watching like some kind of crowd as the wanzer froze in place, the pilot's mutterings still coming through the external speakers as they went over some sort of data feed.
"Alright, we'll divide up. You four, handle the northern sector, that's where your brothers were putting most of the normal species. Obviously, if this group could take down eighty-four of your kind, they'll be little more than a distraction, but that's all they need to be. While they're doing that, I want the two of you to go around and activate the Terrans we left on the east side. You two do the same on the west. Hopefully, we can pin them in, while the four of us finish our search," ordered the pilot, and as one, the geth moved to follow the order.
All eight of those told to 'activate' whatever the pilot was talking about transformed. This close to them, his scanners picked up everything about said transformations. Rather than motors powered by the seemingly endless energy of protoculture, these transformations were done using ME fields, as he'd surmised. What he hadn't realized was how pure their cores were, as the spectrographs got a look at the things, which were at least at fifty percent, possibly more. That was purer than the Normandy's, and Nihlus knew how much work had gone in to make that hunk of rock. To have outfitted almost a hundred geth warframes, that was absurd.
The eight units streaked off into the skies as soon as they'd shifted to jet mode, allowing him to watch and get readings on their flight mechanics, which were mostly mass effect powered, as one might have surmised. Still, they seemed to have sacrificed something for all that. They were faster than your average wanzer, or even a veritech, but they had no missiles to speak of, at least from what he could see. That limited their options to shooting at targets with regular guns, thanix weapons sure, but still just guns that lacked the explosive punch a missile could bring to the table.
Turning his full attention back to the remaining four mechs on the ground below, Nihlus wished Garrus' team a silent bit of luck, wishing that his mission here wasn't as vital as it was. They had Legion for air cover, and that weird mech of Garrus' design, along with the gallants. That had to count for something. Besides, it sounded like they'd already given the geth a heck of a bloody nose when they were outnumbered more than ten to one. With odds like these, no matter what the geth were planning, he doubted it would be enough.
Still, the sight before him was odd, as the much lessened group seemed to be rushing, the wanzer even lashing out at a crate that was full of food stuffs, its armored hands reaching in and crushing large containers full of grain and wheat, most of it marked as dextr. The pilot's screams of frustration could be heard over the air, as he tossed everything aside and went to another crate, the geth ignoring his outburst as they worked through the still rather extensive backlog, going through more than a dozen crates each before one of them jerked suddenly, and then turned towards his fellows. The AI's faces were blank as ever, but something in they way they stood told Nihlus they were nervous, until finally one of them beeped out a statement towards the wanzer.
"Survivors? How?" said the pilot, his voice even, obviously considering the implications of the statement. The geth responded with beeps and chirps again, but this time Nihlus' computer actually provided him with a translation in one of his monitors.
'They appear to have come from a hidden lab of some sort. The North Team is requesting permission to engage,' it asked.
"No, no, we can't risk the activation not reaching everywhere. You three go. I'll keep searching. Once you're done, report back here," ordered the pilot simply, and the three remaining geth took off a moment later, streaking into the sky, obviously going towards the new targets. Survivors of all this was indeed a surprise to Nihlus, considering his view of the colony had shown the geth tearing it apart with ruthless efficiency. Still, as much as he would have liked helping those people, their flight gave him an opportunity that wouldn't likely come again.
Taking aim with with gunpod, he set it to charge to full, collecting protoculture energy in the weapon from his veritech's own engine. The whine of the thing was muffled by layers of sonic devices, giving him plenty of time to prepare his shot, while the wanzer, after watching the warframes fly off, went back to work, opening another of the crates with a hiss as the internal stasis field wore off. Looking over the unit's shoulder, Nihlus grumbled to the ancestors about luck and timing.
"At last," said the pilot, delicately taking the object of his search from the crate, the wanzer's hands barely touching it as he worked the fingers under the thing, and finally began to pull it out. As it had been described, it was a small monolith, about eight feet in height, with a large, wide base, and blue in color, like the relay's themselves. The thing was a common enough sight in various prothean digs around the galaxy, but Nihlus was actually slightly shocked to see how pristine the thing appeared, as most tended to be felled by the ravages of time. This fact alone held back his hand as he waited for the wanzer to place the thing down, and back away.
He received a short burst transmission from the unit before him, encoded, but probably breakable, so he filed it away, as he watched the wanzer slowly set the prothean beacon down on the ground beside the crate, and then began to open. Another hiss of escaping air could be heard, and the unit, to Nihlus fortune, was facing towards him, allowing him to watch as he cocoon like cockpit split down the middle, various metal bars sliding away from it, and finally allowing the pilot, in full armor interestingly enough, to exit the unit, grabbing onto a rip cord that hung from an outstretched arm of the cockpit, and then letting the line lower him towards the ground.
"Finally, the Conduit," said the pilot, a turian by the look of him, and male too. So that meant the voice wasn't being modulated. Odd, and it made Nihlus try to place it even harder, only to get an answer to who it was in a moment, as the pilot removed their helmet, exposing themselves to the air. Beneath the blue armor of the turian, was a face Nihlus recognized instantly, a face almost any SPECTRE would, considering the turian's record was the sort of thing legends were born from, with wins under his belt that put entire fleets to shame.
"Saren?" questioned Nihlus, only to pull the trigger in his cockpit, the gunpod blazing with yellow light as the thing discharged a shot. The powerful projectile penetrated the polymer protection of the mech, slamming into the exposed cockpit, and causing everything inside it to tear apart, even as it toppled backwards. Saren, surprised by this, dove forward, holding up his hand, and shockingly, creating a mass effect barrier between him and the exploding unit, with emphasis on protecting the beacon. Seeing he was being so generous with his protection, Nihlus decided to be even more generous with his destruction, and quickly pulled out a few more shots, blowing through the wanzer multiple times, before it finally fell backwards, a heaping pile of slag.
"Who dares!?" demanded Saren as soon as the attack was over, and Nihlus decided to be kind towards his fellow SPECTRE, revealing his unit, even as he took off, landing just in front of him, the night black sheen of his unit's finish blinding the tiny turian, as the massive stealth veritech landed before him lightly.
"I believe you know who this is, Saren. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what it is you're doing here, I'll tell you why you're not going to get away with it," said Nihlus, shifting his veritech into guardian mode, then lowering the front so that Saren could see who he was, and more importantly, that his finger was on the trigger for his gunpod, which was pointed right at the soon to be ex-SPECTRE.
"Nihlus? Heh, I suppose there wouldn't be any point in trying to play this off as some mission the Council gave me, would there?" he said, and Nihlus in answer, flipped a switch so the missile ports on the veritech's rear opened with dull thunk, followed by the beeps of multiple locks.
"I see. Still, this does put me in a rather awkward position. I had hoped to delay facing one of my own until we had secured our place amongst the chosen," he said, dropping his arms and letting the barrier die, so that he was completely unprotected. Nihlus had to fight his instincts not to fire. It was what some would have done, but Saren was someone he knew, and for all his flaws, Nihlus still respected the turian. He was one of the best, and that reputation made him worthy of a chance to explain himself.
"I will ask again, what are you doing here, Saren?" he said, pushing the gunpod forward, so it was hovering only a foot or two from his target, giving him no time to dodge if the trigger was pulled.
"Oh, many thing, Nihlus, many things. Taking my revenge on the Terrans who caused my brother's death. Seeing for myself the future of the galaxy. Finally, I'm finding the Conduit for my new partners. With it, they will bring perfection to the galaxy," as he said this, Nihlus' sensors suddenly screamed at him, and pulling the trigger, he flew backwards, flaring his jets and wings to put distance between him, even as he fired shot after shot towards the turian.
"GAH!" this shout was from Saren, but it was one of frustration than of pain, as the shots Nihlus fired were blocked by another barrier, this one far thicker than should have been possible for Saren, even if he had been a biotic. Worse, he was firing through the barrier, launching several shots of what appeared to be warp power, ones almost as strong as a disruptor torpedo according to his sensors. Nihlus wasn't a fool, of course, and instantly dodged among the crates, letting the blasts strike them, even as he opened a general comm channel.
"This is Nihlus Kryik to Normandy Ground Team. I've encountered a turian SPECTRE named Saren. He's assisting these geth, and has sent several of them to activate something he calls a contingency plan. More, there's at least two survivors in the colony, actively being hunted by some of the geth. Save them if you can," he ordered, trying to home in on the position of the team. Before he could get far, however, a droning sound could be heard in the air, and he turned towards it to find one of the geth floating in the air overhead.
Nihlus was a professional, and said nothing, as he shifted from guardian to jet mode, and shot into the sky. Pulling the trigger, he showered the geth with fire, watching as the thing activated harden barriers that tanked the shots. Not that Nihlus was trying to kill it, of course. He needed to escape. He had information, and as much as it pained him, that beacon was nowhere near as valuable as what he'd seen. Saren's guilt was not going to be easily accepted by the Council, but if they tried to defend him, it could lead to war with the Federation, a war they could ill afford if there was some third player in the game, as Saren's words, and the oddities of the geth, seemed to imply.
"This is Normandy Ground Team to Nihlus. We have the survivors. No geth in sight, however. Lock on to us, and we'll join up," came the reply from Ms. Zorah, and Nihlus didn't bother with a long flight path, instead aiming his nose straight towards where he detected the team. He was halfway across the colony, nearing their location, when a dull, droning noise echoed everywhere, causing the turian to grab his head in sharp pain, as it felt like his brain was being stabbed. Luckily, veritechs were designed with computers that helped keep him level.
Unluckily, while he recovered quickly, it was obvious the Terrans were down, with both Shepards, and a third armored form on the ground, clutching at their heads, while screams of pain echoed over the comms. Bringing his unit down as fast as he could, his only warning that something was wrong was the deep whine of biotic power, before his craft shattered around him, as a blast of raw kinetic force slammed into the armor, ripping it apart, and consuming his world in fire.