In Zhoru's Command Center, Hannah Shepard was sitting at her station, watching Mindoir's defenders hold back the relentless Silent One advance.
Multiple holo screens flickered with chaotic scenes, showing Mindoir's defenders battling the invaders from the safety of the last defensive line's impenetrable battlements and bunkers.
With calculated precision, they would strike and retreat, utilizing the network of tunnels to launch another devastating hit-and-run attack in a never-ending cycle of destruction, choking the air with the stench of ozone and scorched flesh, slaughtering hordes of constructs without mercy or quarter. Meanwhile, the ground quaked beneath her feet as explosions rocked the battlefield, painting it in hues of fiery red and orange.
Amid the deafening cacophony of war, the nearby artillery towers relentlessly hammered enemy positions, their destructive might shattering buildings and shaking the very ground beneath them in blinding explosions.
But amidst the destruction and chaos, the towering figure of the Emperor Class Construct pushed forward with an unstoppable determination, each step sending tremors through the earth. The air was thick with the whirring of drones and the roar of automated drones and fighters as they desperately tried to hold off the massive machine.
Yet no matter how hard they tried, the drones and fighters could hardly scratch its shields, nor stop it from pounding the immense walls of the last defensive line with its main canon, with blinding spears of energy that obliterated whatever they touched.
She gritted her teeth. Goodness, it was a scene straight out of a nightmare, a symphony of destruction and defiance that echoed across the battlefield. Undoubtedly, they needed another orbital bombardment to destroy that thing. But…
She looked at a screen showing the last batch of refugees boarding the last evacuation ship, and then at the nearby holomap. Would it also incinerate them to ash as well?
Damn it, they had to do something!
She sighed, then looked back at the holoscreens. No matter where she looked, so much of the colony was a smoldering ruin, a wasteland teeming with ash, rubble, and the blackened remains of buildings. Undoubtedly, no human had ever witnessed or had fought in such a hellish environment since the darkest days of the Third World War, since the infamous Operation Gorgon itself.
Suddenly, a boy wailed in one of the vid feeds, and the sound pierced straight through the panicked chatter of the refugee columns boarding the last evac ship. She drew her attention to the holo screen the noise was coming from.
And it was from Anderson's helmet cam, showing him trying to hand off the boy he rescued to one of the colonial militia.
"NO! NOOO!" wailed the boy Anderson had rescued, struggling to break free of one of one of the militia soldier's grasp. Caked in dirt, soot, and ash, the boy was looking at Anderson with teary, begging eyes, and her heart ached. As if that boy was her precious John and Luke, she wanted only to hug him and take away his pain, especially after all he'd gone through. "Please! Don't leave me! Please!"
"It's dangerous here, kid," Anderson said firmly. "You'll be a lot safer if–"
"NO! NOOOOO!" the boy wailed, kicking and screaming.
"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down, kid!" Anderson shouted, as he lost his temper. And for a moment, the boy went silent, his cheeks wet with tears, his eyes red from crying and brimming with fear and desperation.
A cold, empty sensation sprouted in her chest, and she could hardly watch this any longer. Good grief, Anderson. The man was an incredible soldier and officer. And no doubt this campaign and the horrors he'd witnessed had been getting to him. But still, he was nothing like her husband when it came to dealing with children. She opened up a comm-link to Anderson.
Anderson answered. "Hey…any updates on the situation?"
"What's the boy's name?" she asked.
"His name?" Anderson asked, as if he hadn't been expecting that question.
"Anderson," she said. "The boy just lost his parents. So the last thing he needs is more shouting. He needs to feel safe right now, like he can trust you. Ask him his name."
Anderson sighed, then knelt to the boy's level and looked him in the eye. "What's your name, kid?"
"Kaidan," the boy said, meekly. "Kaidan Alenko."
"Great," she said. "Now acknowledge what he went through and then calmly explain the situation in a way Kaidan can understand."
"Kaidan…" Anderson said. He sighed, looking at the ground, and then into Kaidan's eyes. "I know you just lost your family, that you're in so much pain, and that you're terrified of being abandoned. But please understand…" Anderson gripped both of the boy's shoulders. "It is not safe here. You need to get onto the evac ship, right now. Or you are not going to make it out of here alive."
Kaidan sniffled, his gaze directed toward the floor. "Okay…"
Her maternal instincts kicked in, and she could hardly stand how defeated, life-drained, and broken the boy looked. It gnawed at her mind, and damn it, she had to do something! "See if you can find a family on the evac ship willing to take him in. It's the least we could do."
"Good idea," Anderson said, standing up.
"What's going on?" Kaidan asked. "What's happening?"
Anderson sighed, then looked at the nearby soldier. "What's your name?"
"Private Valerie Constasia, sir," she said.
"Well then, Private Valerie," Anderson said. "I want you to take Kaidan and see if you can find him a family willing to take him in on the evacuation ship."
She nodded. "Of course, sir. But…"
"But?"
"I have a strong feeling that Kaidan will not be the only orphan there."
A tense silence ensued, broken only by the surrounding chatter of refugees, and the distant rumble of battle raging in the distance. Amidst it, the weight of those words settled on her soul, and she did not want to imagine the consequences this campaign would have down the line.
Anderson sighed, looked right into Kaidan's eyes, then saluted. "Stay strong, kid."
With a limp arm, Kaidan saluted back, his eyes filled a glint of hope.
With that, Private Valerie took Kaidan by the hand, then led him toward the group of human and quarian soldiers manning the nearest checkpoint through which the refugees were passing. And Anderson seemed to watch them for a prolonged period, as though deep in thought.
"Something on your mind?" she asked.
For a moment, Anderson remained silent, and then he took a deep breath. "I'm just wondering about Kaidan. Damn it, after everything that boy went through, I don't want to imagine how he'll end up like as an adult."
She huffed through her nose. Deep down, she shared the same concern. Today, treatments like Neuro-Resonance Therapy and Hollistic Virtual Reality Healing Environments had done wonders for people like her husband.
But only because he had access to them.
Would orphans like Kaidan be so lucky?
"Time will tell," she said tersely. "You did a brave thing, Anderson. I'm sure he'll never forget you."
Anderson took a deep breath. "We'll see…We'll see…"
Without warning, an alert popped up on her interface, flashing a bright red. The entire command center seemed to buzz with anticipation, and without hesitation, she looked toward Zhoru, who's hands were dancing across a slew of holo-screens and holo-maps, sending out countless orders. On the holo map showing the battlefield situation, the Emperor Class Construct was dangerously close to the last defensive line, its eyes pulsing with malice.
As it drew nearer and nearer, spears of searing red light rained down from orbit and struck its shields in blinding explosions that turned the battlefield into a chaotic inferno. No doubt, the searing heat was suffocating, and the deafening blasts left the allied troops disoriented and dazed. Amidst the bombardment, they abandoned their positions and began a tactical retreat.
As they did so, the towering Emperor Class Construct bellowed a deafening roar as its main canon charged to maximum power. It shielded itself from the relentless onslaught raining down from above, withstanding wave after wave of attacks without faltering.
Around it, other massive siege constructs joined in, their powerful weapons aimed at the same target. Some were destroyed in the process, but others remained steadfast and unwavering.
Then, with a synchronized roar, they unleashed a cataclysmic blast of deadly energy that struck the wall with an earth-shattering explosion. The force was felt for kilometers around, sending tremors through the ground and rattling bones.
In the aftermath of the devastating blast lay a gaping breach, torn open like a wound on the fortifications. And through this opening poured thousands upon thousands of relentless Silent One Constructs, ready to wreak havoc and destruction upon everything in their path.
At that, an alarm blared throughout the command center, loud enough to ring her ears. And then every officer scrambled into action, as though prepared for this exact scenario.
Her heart pounded, and adrenaline surged through her veins. What's going on? Were they leaving? Abandoning this command center to head for extraction?
"Khanah! Goto!" Zhoru commanded, his voice cutting straight through the surrounding noise. "To me!"
Without hesitation, she and Goto complied and squeezed their way past the numerous quarian officers leaving the command center. Soon, they approached Zhoru and were standing before him.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"I take it we're retreating?" Goto asked.
"You presume correctly," Zhoru said. He gestured for both of them to follow. "Follow me."
Without hesitation, they did as he said. And soon, Khaen and Shaani joined them.
"I've relayed my final orders," Zhoru said. "The last of the refugees have all but boarded the last evacuation ship. And now, it is time for us to rendevous with Sergeant Nuro's platoon, then head for extraction. We have done all that we could."
"The rest is up to the Ancestors," Khaen said.
Soon, they left the command center, and above she marveled at the lights flashing in the smoldering, ash-choaked sky. It was as though she was watching suns appear and and disappear in flash after flash.
"Good heavens..." Goto muttered under his breath.
Good heavens indeed. Briefly, she looked back on her time commanding the SSV Centurion, hunting so many pirates, smugglers, and terrorists in the asteroid field. Yes, the Alliance was no stranger to naval warfare, but would soon face threats unlike anything they had seen before.
A heavy, constricting sensation gripped her chest, and she gulped. Never before had humanity engaged in space warfare on such a massive scale.
"That," Shaani said. "Is Captain Rael'Zorah and his fleet buying us time. Come. Let us hurry and ensure he lives to see how you will change the history of both of our peoples."
She nodded. Goodness, even now, she was struggling to come up with what she'd say to the Alliance about all that had happened so far. Still, it seemed so raw, so jumbled. "Yeah, of course."
Soon, they boarded one of the many armored hover vehicles waiting for them outside. And then it zoomed off toward its destination.
The armored vehicle jostled over the rubble-strewn streets, the tension almost tangible. Outside one of the viewports, rubble littered the streets, and smoke billowed from countless smoldering buildings.
Meanwhile, her mind raced. Sitting across from her, Goto looked no less tense. Sweating, he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.
"Are you alright?" she whispered.
"I'm just thinking of all those who didn't make it," he said, "of the generational trauma this accursed conflict will inflict upon my people."
Momentarily, she broke eye contact with him and sighed. She had a nasty feeling that humanity was in for quite a lot of that, and her mind drew a blank. Damn it, what do I say to that?
Meanwhile, Zhoru, Khaen, and Shaani looked so calm and in control, as though this kind of situation was as mundane as taking a shuttle ride to work every day.
But she knew better. Malukors had witnessed their hidden depth firsthand, when those assassin constructs had poked at their vulnerabilities. And she could feel a heaviness in the air, a weight that pressed down on their shoulders, even as they maintained their composed facade.
She sighed. It was something her father had always been so good at.
As the armored vehicle sped through the ruins of the city, she couldn't help but feel drained, as though this conflict had sapped a chunk of her life away. Goodness, throughout this conflict, how many lives had been lost? How many families were torn apart? She glanced at Goto again, seeing the anguish etched on his face. It was a pain she couldn't fully comprehend, but it resonated deep within her.
Outside, the sounds of distant explosions intensified, jarring her from her thoughts. The battle was intensifying, drawing closer with each passing moment. They were racing against time, trying to reach the rendezvous point before it was too late. But in the chaos and destruction surrounding them, she couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that they were running headfirst into another storm.
The vehicle came to a sudden, jarring halt. And the side door swung open and revealed a scene of organized chaos. Amidst a desolate, ruined square strewn with ash and rubble, squads of Malukors were manning the few shielded barricades remaining, holding back hordes of Silent One constructs, with storms of missiles and plasma bolts.
The acrid stench of ozone and scorched flesh choked the air. Periodically, the ground rumbled with each of the Emperor Class Construct's steps. And above, wings of drones and fighters whoosed overhead, unleashing obliterating their targets in devastating attack runs.
Zhoru leaped out of the vehicle first, his body moving with precision and purpose. Khaen and Shaani followed suit and followed him, as he approached Sergeant Nuro.
She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what lay ahead. Briefly, she looked at Goto, who looked just as nervous as she was. "Ready?"
"Let's do this," Goto said.
And then they both stepped out of the vehicle and made their way toward Zhoru, who clasped forearms with Sergeant Nuro.
"It is good to see you alive," Zhoru said.
"And you as well, Captain," Nuro said. "I never would had imagined that they would send those assassin constructs after you." Nuro let out an amused laugh. "But it seems the Ancestors are not yet finished with you."
Zhoru laughed, his voice tinged with weariness. "No they are not." Briefly, Zhoru looked over Nuro's shoulder, at the Malukors manning the barricades, then back at Nuro. "Our people still need us, and the legions of old will rise once again. So until our transport arrives, brother, we will hold the line here.
Nuro nodded. "Understood, Captain." Nuro drew his massive plasma rifle from the magnetic holster on his back. "Let us make the enemy bleed."
Zhoru drew his omni-blade and plasma pistol. "For the homeworld."
Khaen and Shaani did the same. "For the homeworld."
Her pulse climbed. Goodness, when would the troop transport arrive? In the meantime, what was she and Goto supposed to do?
Zhoru faced her. "Khanah, Goto. Until our transport arrives, it will not be safe here. Until then, stay with Khaen and Shaani and do as they say."
She nodded, her heart pounding, pumping adrenaline through her veins. She exchanged a glance at Goto, and silently, they acknowledged the weight of the situation in which they found themselves.
Khaen and Shaani stepped forward and flanked them.
"We will ensure your safety," Khaen said, his voice steady. "Follow our lead and we will all live to see the homeworld again."
"Understood," she said.
"We will follow your every command."
With that, Zhoru and Nuro made their way to the remaining barricades, where their brothers and sisters in arms were holding the line.
As Zhoru and Nuro joined the battle, she couldn't help but watch them in awe. The Malukors were fighting with the ferocity and determination of a force ten times their number, repelling every assault on their position with inhuman precision and skill.
Explosions erupted amidst the carnage, making the ground tremble. More and more, the air reeked of ozone, as plasma bolts speared through through the air.
Meanwhile, Khaen pointed toward a nearby defensible position in the ruins of what used to be a towering building. "We will take cover there," he said, his voice calm and commanding. "Stick close and stay low."
Without hesitation, she followed Khaen's lead, darting between the rubble and ruins, with Goto close behind. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, heightening her senses. The weight of the situation pressed upon her, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.
Reaching the shattered remains of the building, they found a secluded spot amidst the debris on the ground floor. Shaani positioned herself near a cracked armor-glass window, keeping watch over their surroundings. Khaen took up a defensive position, scanning the area for any signs of danger.
Taking a moment to catch her breath, she glanced at Goto. His face was etched with determination, his eyes reflecting a mix of fear and resolve. There was something about him that drew her in, something that made her feel a sense of shared purpose. They were both fighting for their survival and the future of their people.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, breaking the tense silence.
Goto nodded, though his voice wavered slightly. "I... I've never experienced anything like this before. It's overwhelming."
She reached out and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "You're not alone in this, Goto. We're in this together."
He gave her a faint smile, gratitude evident in his eyes.
Outside, the battle continued to rage on. Explosions shook the ground beneath them as Malukor warriors fought valiantly against the onrushing Silent One advance.
Amidst it, her thoughts invariably drifted to Mark and her boys, to the first time she and Mark had made love, to John and Luke's birthdays. She smiled. If she survived this, then goodness would she have a lot of stories to tell.
On their fortified barricade, Captain Zhoru'Larrik stood strong, his plasma pistol blazing with deadly precision as he picked off construct after construct. Each shot was a kill, and enemies fell in droves at his hand, reduced to scorched messes of sizzling gore and blackened machinery.
Nearby, squads Zel'Naga and Fel'Zara fought with equal ferocity, unleashing a storm of heavy plasma bolts and phase missiles that vaporized and shredded countless enemies. The air reeked of ozone and burning metal as the battlefield transformed into a maelstrom of death and destruction, into a killing field of ash and rubble, of smoldering craters and gouges in the earth, littered with the brutalized remains of their foes.
Amidst it, his lifemate laughed. If only I was fighting beside you. This looks like such fun!
He smiled. Briefly, he remembered how beautiful and graceful she was in battle, and a cold, empty sensation gripped his augmented heart and lungs. Keelah, it had been so long since they fought together, so long since his mind and body had been in perfect sync with hers. Fighting by her side, he had felt like war incarnate, unstoppable no matter the odds. But now...
He sighed. Even amidst this chaos and carnage, with the collective fury and zeal of his Company surging through him, he couldn't help but feel like only half the warrior he used to be. Keelah, was he truly the 'Sword of the Ancestors', or just an unfortunate survivor, haunted by the ghosts of the fallen?
Saera, focus! Nyla snapped. Now is not the time for doubt! You are the hope of our clan! The hope of the legions! And by the Ancestors, you will live to lead them into the next era!
Those words fueled his warrior spirit, and it burned as hot as a star. Suddenly, a fresh throng of shock-assault constructs came into view, charging forward, unleashing a storm of plasma and tungsten slugs that made the shields of the barricade flare in bright flashes.
And for a moment, he surrendered to the fury of Felz'Korath.
For the homeworld! he roared through the quantum neural link, and his Company joined him in a fierce battle cry.
As the enemy pressed on, charging through a field of nano-mines, undaunted, he and his company fought on, making them bleed and suffer for every inch of ground.
Amidst the relentless chaos, an urgent notification popped up on his HUD, coming from the pilot of their rescue transport, saying he would arrive just minutes from now. At the same time, another such notification popped up, stating that the final group of refugees had just barely made it onto the last evacuation ship, and that it was finally taking off.
Within seconds, he made the necessary calculations in his head, and he knew exactly how to proceed.
Caru'Vael, Yhasin'Zorah, he said. With a thought, he sent them a set of coordinates. Nano-assemble more turrets and plasma mortars at these coordinates.
He then sent a comm request to Rael'Zorah, and Rael answered.
Captain Rael'Zorah, he ordered. Intensify the orbital bombardment. Focus fire the Emperor Class Construct. And spare what air support you can at my current position.
As you command, Rael said before cutting the comm link.
With that done, they would finally have the covering fire they needed to extract.
All squads, he said. Execute retreat pattern Vash'Tor on my mark.
As affirmation runes flickered on his HUD, a deafening roar filled the air. The ground shook beneath his feet as the orbital bombardment rained down from orbit. Lance strikes and plasma warheads slammed into the Emperor Class Construct, its shields sparking and flaring, struggling to hold against the relentless assault.
Amidst the chaos, Caru and Yhasin sprang into action, nano-assembling automated turrets and mortars at the coordinates he had specified. And they added to the torrents of fire his platoon were unleashing upon the enemy. Just moments later, a squadron of sleek automated fighters whooshed overhead and strafed the enemy with a devastating attack run.
Now! he barked, and his platoon moved as one. With masterful precision, honed from centuries of practice, Squad Zel'Naga laid down covering fire while Squad Fel'Zara retreated from their positions at the barricade.
Amidst the retreat, a notification flashed on his HUD, informing him that their extraction vessel was just over a minute away.
Go, go, go! he barked, as his men retreated, leaving the barricade.
Suddenly, the ground shook beneath his feet, and a deafening roar sundered the air. In the distance, the Emperor Class Construct crashed straight through a building with ease. Finally, it's shields had burst, and it was tanking blast after blast from the orbital bombardment, pushing on, despite having taken heavy damage.
Suddenly, it glared at him, its red eyes burning with fathomless hate. And he met its gaze head-on. Are you suffering? If so, then good. I hope you die in agony.
As if in response to his insult, its central eye glowed a bright red, as it charged its main canon, ready to atomize him to cosmic dust.
An ear-splitting boom roared through the air, and Hannah Shepard jumped in fright. Again and again, the ground trembled beneath her feet, and for a moment she struggled to regain her bearings.
The sound had come from the barricade on which Zhoru and his Malukors were making their stand. Briefly, she looked out the nearby window, and there, she saw Malukors retreating.
Goodness, were they okay? Was extraction arriving soon?
Her thoughts were cut short when Khaen approached her.
"Khanah, Goto," Khaen said. "We need to move. Our transport will be here only seconds from now."
"No matter what," Shaani said. "Do not leave our side."
She stood up, along with Goto. "Lead the way."
Staying close to Khaen and Shaani, they left the building. Meanwhile, Khaen and Shaani were moving as one, their massive plasma rifles aimed at the chaos ahead, ready to fire a flurry of heavy plasma bolts.
Suddenly, a blinding red lance of energy struck the barricade, and it exploded in a colossal boom. Her pulse spiked, and for a moment, she struggled to breathe.
Goodness, had Zhoru been there?
"Where's Zhoru?" she asked.
The moment she said that, Khaen opened fire into the breach, gunning down scores of constructs with a flurry of heavy plasma bolts.
"He is fine," Shaani said. "Come. Stay close to me."
The Malukor took her by the arm, her strength terrifying, and dragged her toward an open area upon which the extraction vessel would land. Looking up, she spotted it descending from the clouds, and it unleashed a barrage of missiles from its weapon pods onto the onrushing horde behind them, covering the Malukors racing toward it for extraction.
As the extraction vessel touched down, a blissful, relieving sensation washed over her. Yes, soon, this nightmare would finally be over. Soon, she'd get to see Mark and the boys again.
But then the ground trembled beneath her feet again, and she nearly fell to the ground. Seconds later, a flurry of plasma bolts whooshed by. A thunderous explosion rocked the area, and the shockwave threw her onto the ground.
Her ears rang. Her head spun. Her HUD was flashing all manners of alerts, and apparently, her shields had absorbed the blast and the impact of some shrapnel and debris. Turning her head, she spotted Khaen and Shaani opening fire onto the onrushing constructs, slaying one after the other. Soon, some constructs closed into melee range and they surged forward, their omni-blades drawn, into a chaotic melee.
But nearby, she also spotted Goto sprawled out on the ground, bleeding out, with a piece of debris lodged in his chest.
Her pulse spiked.
Yet before she could get to her feet, the transport finally landed. And immediately, two squads of quarian marines rushed out and opened fire on the enemy.
Amidst the chaos, someone was standing over her, and it was Zhoru looking down at her, his armor caked in blood, soot, and ash. "Khanah? Are you well?" He offered her his hand, and without hesitation she took it and he pulled her to her feet.
"We...we have to help Goto," she managed to say. "He's hurt. He's going to die."
"Then there's no time to waste," he said. "Stay close to me."
With Zhoru covering her, she rushed toward Goto's side. As soon as she reached him, he groaned through clenched teeth, then coughed up some blood.
"Goto," she said, kneeling beside him. "Goto, stay with me."
She looked into Goto's eyes, and the pain and despair within them gripped her chest in an icy vice. Goto coughed up more blood, and she held his hand tight.
"Kas...Kasumi," he managed to say. "Tell...Tell her I'm sorry. P-Please, look...look after her and..."
Goto's grip loosened, his eyes dimming. In a haunting, silent moment, he slipped away.
Even with the chaos raging all around her, time seemed to slow to a standstill. I promise.
Yes, no matter what, she would honor Goto's last wishes.
"Khanah!" Zhoru shouted. With his plasma pistol, he blew the head off one shock-assault construct before decapitating another with his omni-blade. "We are out of time. Get to the transport!"
Reluctantly, she left Goto's corpse and rushed toward the open embarkation ramp, upon which several Malukors were boarding. A few of them were laying down covering fire, allowing their brothers and sisters in arms to escape the combat zone. And soon, Khaen and Shaani were right with her.
Ahead, she saw Zhoru rushing toward the ramp as well.
"Zhoru!" she called out. "Zhoru, come on!"
Behind Zhoru, a barrage of plasma bolts tore into a female Malukor, who had already sustained grievous wounds, and her lifemate let out a howl of animal rage, of primal fury and the blackest despair.
Without hesitation, that Malukor rushed into the enemy, slaughtering everything in his path in a berserker rampage. Every second, he tore and rent apart constructs with his omni-blade and bare hands, drenching himself in their blood and entrails.
The sight sent a chill racing through her insides. Her jaw dropped, and she gasped. Goodness, that Malukor was like violence incarnate. And she couldn't help but feel sorry for any construct he got his hands on.
Soon, Zhoru lept onto the embarkation ramp, just as it was about to close, and as the extraction vessel rose into the air. Finally, Zhoru rushed inside.
But meanwhile, just as the embarkation ramp was closing, she spotted the Emperor Class construct on its last legs. It glared directly at her, its eyes burning with acidic fury.
Her heart froze, as it charged its main canon, about to blow them out of the sky.
No...Mark, John, Luke...
It fired.
But then a titanic barrage of lance strikes and missiles struck it in a stupendous series of blinding explosions and threw off its aim. Its energy lance missed and carved a path of destruction across numerous ruined buildings instead. Meanwhile, the orbital bombardment intensified, scorching everything to ash, obliterating what remained of the colony to atomic dust.
And then finally the embarkation ramp closed, and the extraction vessel zoomed off into orbit, likely heading straight for the Az'khaelon's docking bay.
On the bridge of the Endaara, Captain Rael'Zorah slammed his fist on one of the arms of his command throne. "Raise power to shields! All ships but the Sadhan and the Caerakhis, focus fire on the enemy command ships!"
"Yes, Captain!" Kharo said.
Without hesitation, his bridge crew carried out his orders. The Sadhan and the Caerakhis maintained the orbital bombardment, annihilating enemy positions with flurries of lance strikes and plasma warheads. And the rest of his fleet continued to engage in a grueling last stand against the fast-approaching Silent One armada.
Already, they had lost two frigates and a light cruiser in the brutal slugging match they fought against their vanguard, and it was only a matter of time before his fleet would be reduced to a debris field of burned-out, shattered vessels and bloodied, brutalized corpses drifting aimlessly through the void.
His pulse climbed, and every second, he struggled to retain his air of command. Keelah, come on, Zhoru! We need to leave!
"Captain!" Valun called out, a few moments later. "Incoming transmission from the Azh'khaelon. Captain Zhoru and Khanah'Shepard have just boarded. And the last evacuation ship is finally in orbit and heading for the jump point."
He narrowed his eyes. What about the Governor of Mindoir? "And the Governor of Mindoir?"
"He did not survive, Captain..." Valun said solemnly. "He perished along the way to extraction."
Briefly, he looked at the deck. Ancestors, how many lives would this accursed conflict claim? He clenched his jaw. "Then let us ensure that his death will not be in vain."
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. With a heavy heart, he input the necessary commands on his tactical display. The message, broadcasted to every ship in his fleet, was one he dreaded giving.
"All ships," he began, "it is time to leave this system. Execute retreat pattern Rhas'Khai..." As he gave the order, a cold, biting sensation squeezed at his chest. He knew that at least two squadrons would have to stay behind as rear guard, sacrificing themselves for the rest of the fleet. It was a decision he wished he didn't have to make, but by the ancestors it had to be done.
There was no other way.
So Keelah, who would he send to their potential deaths? Perhaps he should at least allow those under his command to volunteer first. "Any volunteers for the rear guard?"
A thick, heavy silence lingered in the air and bore down on his shoulders. Every second that passed gnawed at his mind, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that he would have to make the decision himself. However, just as he was about to speak up, his chief communications officer shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Captain..." Valun said. "We are being hailed by the Fairana and the Khan'Shairos."
The Fairana? The Khan'Shairos? Keelah, those were the command ships of the remaining two squadrons Valo'Reegar had commanded. Ancestors, did they want to sacrifice themselves as well? "Patch them through. Put them on the forward viewscreen."
With those words, the forward viewscreen came to life with a sharp crack-shwoom, showing Captain Quro'Reegar of the Fairana and Captain Valin'Reegar of the Khan'Shairos from the shoulder up.
"Captain..." Qoru began. "We volunteer for rear guard duty. Our ships are best equipped for the task. And outside our duty to the quarian people..."
"We have nothing to live for," Valin said. Briefly, she looked at the ground. "And neither do our crews."
"They have lost too much," Quro said. "So with your permission, Captain. Let us honor our Clan. And may our names be-"
"Be remembered in the annals of your Clan's fallen heroes?" he asked.
Quro and Valin nodded. A brief, solemn silence filled the bridge. And he exhaled, as a draining, heavy sensation clouded his mind. Indeed, amongst the fleet, Clan Reegar had undoubtedly earned their reputation as the Shield of the Quarian People. Quro, Valin, and Valo were living proof of that, and he couldn't respect and admire Clan Reegar any more than he already did.
Undoubtedly, his kind would have gone extinct long ago without their courage and honor.
He leaned forward in his command throne, looking both in the eyes. "When this accursed campaign is finally over, you will not be forgotten. I promise you that."
"Thank you, Captain," Quro said.
Quro and Valin saluted. "Keelah Sel'ai," they said in unison.
He saluted back. "Keelah Sel'ai."
With that, he cut the connection. Leaning back into his command throne, he closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. And then he took another deep breath. Ancestors, help me. Please do not let their deaths be in vain.
Gripping the arms of his command throne, he fixed his attention back to his tactical display. His fleet was executing retreat pattern Rhas'Khai with masterful precision. The fleet's formations were like a perfectly choreographed dance, with Quro and Valin's squadrons taking up the rearguard in two offensive spiral formations.
They unleashed a devastating onslaught of fire - from nova missiles, to dark energy lances, and super-heavy rail gun slugs - towards their enemy. In return, the enemy fired back with equal ferocity.
And the space between them lit up with a blinding maelstrom of fire and destruction.
As the rest of his fleet retreated towards the system's jump point, Han's squadrons guarded the right flank of the last evacuation ship, whilst Shala's guarded the left. His own squadrons charged forth, then regrouped with Guardian Squadron Val'Khasu, before trailing behind the last evacuation ship and covering its rear, top, and bottom.
Meanwhile, on his tactical display, he watched one enemy marker vanish after the other, as Quro and Valin's squadrons stood against the enemy in a desperate last stand. Together, they were fighting with everything they had, standing firm, even as enemy fire picked them off one by one.
Every time a friendly marker vanished from his tactical display, an icy sensation pricked at his heart. Tears blurred his vision, and his heart surged with a mix of pride and sorrow.
Die well, my brothers and sisters. May you be honored amongst the Ancestors once you join them.
He huffed through his nose. On his tactical display, the last evac ship had finally reached the jump point, and it zoomed off out of the system at FTL.
"All ships," he announced, his hands dancing at across his tactical display as he relayed orders to Han and Shala, "chart a course for the Alfa Shentaari system, then prepare your drive cores to FTL jump out of the system. We do so in bounds."
At his words, Han's squadrons were the first to engage their drive cores and FTL jump out of the system. As they did so, he and Shala's took up convex defensive wall formations, ready to provide covering fire.
As they did so, the Silent One armada chased after them at full burn, and they barely had enough time until the enemy vanguard would be in weapons range.
When Han's squadrons had finally left the system, Shala's went next, with the remaining ships ready to cover their escape with suppressing fire.
As Shala's ships FTL jumped out of the system, his pulse climbed. He began to sweat beneath his suit. On his tactical display, the enemy vanguard was approaching closer...and closer...and closer...
Ancestors, they had to strike first!
"All ships in defensive formations," he announced, "fire at will!"
At his command, his ships fired a torrent of destructive power toward the enemy vanguard. And their firing solutions proved spot-on, bursting enemy shields and rending apart enemy hulls in storms of fire and carnage.
Soon, the last of Shala's ships FTL jumped out of the system, and all that remained were his.
"All ships," he commanded, "deploy all of your remaining mines and automated fighters, then leave the system immediately."
His ships deployed what void mines and automated fighters they had left, and as they harassed the enemy vanguard, they pivoted, then jumped out of the system, one by one.
Amidst the retreat, the Endaara's shields absorbed several missile and lance strikes, flashing and flaring. And an unfortunate frigate came apart in a blinding flash.
"Ready to FTL jump at your command, Captain!" Kharo said.
"Do it!" he commanded. "Let's leave this accursed system!"
At his command, the stars become a blur of blinding light on the forward viewscreen. In an instant, the Endaara surged forward and vanished in a white-hot flash as it jumped into FTL, leaving the pursuing Silent One armada in its wake.
On his tactical display, he shut off the forward viewscreen, then laid back in his command throne and let out a big sigh of relief. Keelah, they had just narrowly escaped. Finally, he could take some time to rest.
But not for too long.
This was not over. Once they reached the Sol System, they would face an entirely new set of problems, and he could only hope that Khanah'Shepard was up to the monumental task awaiting her.