4 – Eden'

Kevin Gorman wasn't exactly standing in the darkness of his mind, it was more like he was 'being' there, if anything. This mental zone was deprived of any sense except thought. He felt at ease. That didn't last. From the recesses of his mind rushed blood-soaked red images and terrible, thought-consuming notions. Everyone he once knew, barring any remarkable longevity, was dead. It was one thing to witness his own team of agents give their lives willingly to see the mission through, but the concept of everyone else just being…gone filled the Commander with dread and regret. The infernal scenes given to him by the obelisk were growing in strength again. He needed a defense, and fast. He needed to try and shove the thoughts out of his head, but to stop thinking altogether is to stop living altogether. A replacement thought was therefore the key, and Gorman pushed himself to think of anything, literally anything else…

"I might be able to help," sprang a comforting, new yet familiar voice.

Gorman attempted to open his eyes. Instead of the ship, or the floor of the ship, he was gazing at a marvelous field of stars that wrapped overhead like in a planetarium. There were no seams to this display, and the dazzling array was accentuated by its reflection on the glossy floor he was now standing on. It was otherwise completely silent – serenity realized. Facing him, lit up by the starlight like an actor on a stage, was a short man with parted black hair and a dark sweater concealed by a brown suit jacket. His hands were in his pockets, and he was giving the Commander a warm smile.

"Carl Sagan?" exclaimed an incredulous Gorman.

"Actually, I'm a coping mechanism. But yes, that's also me."

"What are you doing here?"

"You needed to take it easy, take your mind off of all the immense stress you've been under recently," he explained in an almost jovial manner.

"Why you?"

"Why not? Besides, didn't you have a great time watching my documentary a few nights before the big mission began?"

"I was half asleep during that show."

"And you aren't now?"

Gorman was still taken aback. He was face to face with a famous astronomer of all people, who was somehow worried about his wellbeing. Compared with any of the other unbelievable sights and events of the last few days, this could almost be considered mundane. Could have been worse, he thought. He almost watched a WW2 documentary that night instead.

"I'm a wreck, Dr. Sagan. Everyone I knew, everything I knew, it's all gone. I've survived more than any one man should to get here – but I'm completely out of my depth. I just want to go home."

Dr. Sagan was listening attentively. He raised his arms as if presenting the display overhead.

"Take a moment to observe the majesty of our cosmos," he remarked. Gorman focused his attention on the shimmering constellations. "Imagine, if you will, that each star you see is a brilliant, burning ball of gas. Some stars are small and faint, like the flicker of a candle in the distance. Others are enormous, hundreds of times larger than the Sun we know, casting a glow that can be seen across the universe."

Gorman kept looking up. He could almost feel the stars' energy.

"Stars," Dr. Sagan continued, "are the cosmic factories that create the elements we find on every planet, Earth included. The gases and metals that propelled humanity to industrialization, and now, as we know, exploration and exploitation of space's bounty, all came from the fiery cores of stars like these." The astronomer redirected his focus towards Gorman himself. "But stars have a destiny. They cannot shine forever. When a star exhausts its nuclear fuel, it undergoes a transformation, sometimes with a burst of brilliance that outshines entire galaxies…a supernova. These spectacular explosions spread those elements forged within the star out into space, where they become the building blocks of new stars, new planets, and even new life."

"I don't understand."

"Like it or not, you've undergone a tremendous change. You too had a destiny, and from the destruction of your old life, a new one begins. It won't be easy, there will be a lot to learn and relearn, but you've been given the opportunity to burn even brighter than before. All you need to do is keep going."

"But what about everyone I left behind?"

"There's something bad coming, something really bad – you know it, I know it, even Kalu now knows it. I think everyone that cared for you would feel somewhat cheated if they stuck around for 170 years just to see you give up trying to stop it. You've got your mission – and a new crew to help you along."

"They all think I'm wicked stupid."

"They haven't seen you in action yet," Dr. Sagan smiled.

"I…I still don't get it."

"How could you?" Dr. Sagan laughed. "You're in the future! In a spaceship! Going so fast it likely invalidates decades of my work! Don't even get me started on your extraterrestrial encounter. There's a galaxy out there to explore – if you can find time between being a war hero and a savvy negotiator, be a pioneer." Dr. Sagan finally approached Gorman, and put his arm around his shoulder. This last message was to be his keynote.

"Find out everything you can. Help Kalu see his son. Find allies – I would love to think that not all aliens are spider-eyed killers. Don't be afraid. Get angry if you have to, avenge the fallen and all that. Boldy go where no 21st century human has gone before! Burn brighter!"

The demands of Dr. Sagan reverberated around the Commander's mind. That, and a new feeling, a tinge of pain on his cheek. The astronomer confidently walked away and faded into the stellar backdrop before it gradually started to get more and more intense, until…

"Hey! No need to get violent."

"The slap woke him up, no? Rise and shine, Commander!"

"Easy on him, he's still going through a lot right now."

"And we're not? On your feet soldier, we need you up and ready."

Gorman arose from where he had been laying – he had been moved at some point from the cold hard floor to the cold hard table. His head was starting to stop spinning, his vision was slowly clearing, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth of decontaminated coffee. The expressions of Kalu and White looking right at his came to his attention. They looked worried, and not just about him.

"Did we make it to the relay?" Gorman groaned, soothing his cheek.

White quickly put his hands behind his back with a cough.

"In good time," he replied. "Hit the relay in just twelve hours." Even with his current worries, the pilot found time to be proud. "Drift under 2500K."

"That's very uninteresting," Kalu said dryly, shooting White a cross look. "The point is, we made it to Eden Prime, but…"

"We can't land?" Gorman asked.

"The planet's under attack. Never seen anything like it."

The Commander slid off the table and stretched out his achy muscles. His vision was clear. Deep inside, he felt something he hadn't experienced since the fateful mission over a century and a half ago - a sense that propelled him and his team to get the job done and avenge Dublin. It was time to take command.

"Show me."

Kalu and White led Gorman up the stairs and towards the cockpit. White straddled into the chair and punched a few holographic buttons on his central display. It didn't take an image on a screen for him to see the planet of Eden Prime. It was directly facing the window, a teal orb suspended in space covered by swirling white clouds and darker patches of undeniable land. The planet was close enough to take up the whole width of the front viewport. Greenery, water, mountain ranges and ice caps – and even lights on its darker sliver. Gorman was staring at life on another world. Arguably the greatest astronomic question of his own age, answered effortlessly.

He squinted. Faint black specks were spotted ahead, over a particular sector of the planet's grassland that was right in the twilight zone between night and day. Gorman blinked. Did the specks just move?

"Are you seeing this?" White almost gasped. He was looking intently at a holographic monitor closer to his eye level. Gorman and Kalu peered over him to find a circular graphic with radiant lines coming from a white spot at its bottom. Some sort of future radar, thought the Commander. The top semicircle was filled with an amber color, with several little dots peeking over the halfway line.

"The orange dots are ships?" questioned Gorman.

"Doesn't match any Alliance signature I'm familiar with…or batarian, for that matter."

"And what's the big splotch above them? The planet?"

"…More ships. A lot more. And that's just what's within range."

"That's a whole damn fleet," breathed an incredulous Kalu. The three of them paused for a moment to take in the gravity of the situation. One would easily be forgiven for thinking a few fuzzy spots thousands of kilometers away hardly meant a threat to a planet that big – but size on this scale is deceiving. Comparing a spaceship to a planet is to compare an ant to the Antarctic. "Comms are out?" Kalu continued. White gave a somber nod.

"Take us down there," Gorman directed. Kalu almost jumped.

"With all due respect, Commander," Kalu began, pulling Gorman aside with a stern hand. "I get you're a bit overwhelmed at the moment, but I'm not letting you throw our lives away to deliver some contraband." He gestured to the stairs down to the second deck – home to the smuggling canisters.

"What? Of course not!" Gorman's suddenly renewed confidence caught Kalu off guard. "We're going down because those people need our help. I don't care what year it is."

"But…we should really get to Earth," Kalu attempted to protest.

"We will, but Earth will always be there. Lieutenant, how many live on this planet?"

"Millions."

This time Gorman was taken aback. The population of Tara IV could fit inside a double-decker bus, but this was a whole other league of human exploration. He wondered how many years ago a colony like this could have been founded for it to have so many residents. Did they have a separate government? Currency? Zip codes? It didn't matter – they were being assaulted from an unknown enemy. He'd already tackled a similar threat before, come to think of it, but that was just one ship.

"Take us in. Fast and low."

"I'll give it my best," said White. "I bet this ship handles in atmosphere like an two hundred year old Peugeot." With that, the pilot punched the buttons in front of him, removing the radar display and sending the ship swerving right as if to eventually outflank the armada.

Kalu gave a beaten sigh.

"I guess we're about to find out," he managed a smile.

The ship dove further towards the planet. Gorman thought about whether he should be holding on to something. Kalu made to grab a handle – Gorman followed suit. White-hot flames started to lick at the front window and were visible through the side slits. The descending vessel started to shake as White twisted a dial back. The finer details of the planet became much clearer as Gorman could make out fields upon fields of farmland and orchards. White grinded a lever forward and the craft banked up with an immense shudder as it pierced the cloud layer.

Eden Prime's sky was a dusky pink. The rolling hills were split by mighty rivers and intermittent forests, reminding Gorman of Earth in all but name. Opposed to Earth, there were hardly any signs of human pollution – no bustling cities but sparse prefab flats, no landfills, quarries or logging but landmasses covered with vegetation. There was no time, however, to give in to the urge to break out an easel and paint the idyllic landscape at the velocity they were travelling at. The batarian slaver careened over the dales until along the horizon were unnatural lights, magnificent silver spires, and smoke. Lots of smoke.

"God, look at that," Kalu whispered under his breath. Hovering menacingly over the towers were almost certainly the ships spotted from far orbit. They were long, bulbous crafts that cast long, bulbous shadows over the countryside and a set of lower man-made structures that were coming into view. They were a rich violet in color and uniform in their design. Gorman's first impression was that they were particularly low storm-clouds. Upon further inspection they looked something like massive metal insects, with a big 'head', rounded 'body', and narrow stinger 'tail'.

"Are they leaving?" White shouted over the rattling of their own ship. Gorman and Kalu gave the horde of alien ships another look, and sure enough, the purple hornets were elevating higher into the pink sky and beyond. Gorman felt a great deal of discomfort that even his relatively well-travelled crewmates were unsure of exactly who 'they' were. All of their attentions were all so focused on the fleeing fleet that not one of them noticed an incoming missile.

An almighty bang rocked the ship without mercy. Gorman and Kalu clutched whatever looked nailed down for dear life. An alarm sounded, and barely audible beneath it, the clattering around of tables, chairs and fuel canisters below.

"We're hit! Hold on!" yelled White. "Engine faltering! Kinetic barriers are history!"

"Can we land?" roared Kalu.

"It's happening whether we like it or not! Brace for impact!"

Commander Gorman's first touchdown on another planet, to add to his trailblazing list of accomplishments, would be a crash landing. The batarian slaving ship slammed into a concrete rooftop at the large set of square structures like a brick being thrown at the pavement. A metal pole inside was all that was keeping Gorman from being tossed about like a ragdoll – at least Kalu was wearing body armor.

The ship spun on its side, falling from the roof. Any inertia dampening was well and truly gone, and inside it suddenly felt as if they were in an elevator and its cables were just cut. Out the front viewport for a brief moment the last purple shapes could be seen drifting out of view. The craft impacted the ground bottom-first with a palpable thud, before rotating one last time onto its belly. Dirt and asphalt bounced up beyond the now-cracked front window. The eternal hum of the ship's engine, wherever it was, finally cut out with little fanfare. The starboard hatch swung gingerly open…and promptly snapped off.

The Commander felt battered and bruised, but not broken. His hands of all things were hurting the most from gripping the pole as tight as possible. All three men took a moment to catch their breath.

"Everyone alright?" White broke the silence. He undid his straps and stood up straight – before immediately stumbling over himself with dizziness.

"Still moving. What hit us?" Gorman racked back his shoulders and reflexively checked how much ammunition he was carrying for his sidearm.

"Didn't look like the big ships spotted us. That means…" Kalu theorized, before coming to the likely answer. "Must have come from somewhere groundside." He moved towards the ship's brand new window where the hatch once was. "But who?"

"Who? I'll tell you who: anyone who gets wary around batarian ships flying into an Alliance spaceport," White grumbled. "Can't say I'm awfully surprised. They'll give any trigger-happy Corporal a launcher these days."

"The Alliance sure has a wide reach out in space," said Gorman. He had spent a solid minute trying to think of something to say that masked his sheer ignorance about the organization he claimed to represent, and yet it was still as vague a statement as you could get. "They've put a lot of resources into humanity's colonies."

"The Alliance is humanity, Commander," White declared, leaning against the cockpit wall for support. "I for one agreed with you up there – we might be cut off from the chain of command but we can't just abandon a colony in need. Unlike someone…" he glanced towards Kalu, who was still eyeing the outside of the ship through the hatchway. "Hey! Still dizzy from the crash? Believe me, I've had worse." Kalu didn't flinch. White dismissed being ignored with a wave of his hand. "Reminds me of how I got captured by the batarians, anyway. We were patrolling in the Hades Gamma cluster, when all of a sudden-"

"Movement. Group of three. Armed. You're not going to believe this, but I think they're geth." Kalu had reached around for his arced rifle from his back. It unfolded itself like a telescope and allowed him to peer through a round sight built into its top half.

White's entire demeanor suddenly shifted.

"What?" he gasped. He rushed over to the porthole, snatched the rifle from Kalu's hands, and brought his eye up to the sight. Another gasp followed. Gorman could grasp that this was not what the Lieutenant was expecting, and it was not good news. He tried to muscle his way to the window.

They were at the foot of a concrete structure that seemed to demarcate the limits of Eden Prime's spaceport. Out the hatch was a drop down to ground level from the top deck, and a set of what looked like prefab flats, space-age white in color with rounded corners. Around the corner from the flats was a grassy knoll with familiar Earth-like trees. All the greenery was charred, however, with some sporadic burn marks. At the top of the hill, the spaceport proper and the source of the great smoke that was seen a great distance away. In that direction were the faintest of noises. Gunfire and screaming.

Gorman squinted. There, approaching down the hill, were three figures. Something was clearly awry the moment he focused in on them. They were marching rhythmically down at a brisk pace in a triangle formation, weapons unnaturally still and aimed in front of them at all times. Their 'armor' was dark grey in color with maybe a little lilac, and even from this distance Gorman could see that the proportions were slightly off from human standard. The giveaway that these were the 'geth', however, were three shining blue lights where their faces should be.

Kalu snapped into action. He forcefully reacquired his rifle and began to clamber out of the hatch. With a thump he let go from the ship and touched down on Eden Prime's soil. Gorman was quick to follow, as gracefully as he could throwing his legs over the side of the ship and hoisting himself down. The two looked up, awaiting White.

"I…I'm unarmed." White called below. The fact that he sounded more nervous now than when he was trapped in a batarian cage spoke volumes about the new enemy.

"Let's face it, you might as well be too, Commander," Kalu gave Gorman's handgun a point.

"It still works," Gorman tried to defend his weapon's pride. "But you're right, we need something…" He looked up to White. "Time to crack open those fuel canisters." White looked confused for a moment, then understood and disappeared into the ship.

Kalu and Gorman stacked up along the side of one of the nearby prefab buildings. Glancing around the corner, sure enough three flashlights were visible, but they had stopped in their tracks. Something had caught their attention. With a Walther in one hand and a waving hand signal for the other, Gorman led them creeping closer for a better look.

"What the hell is that?" Kalu couldn't help but whisper. Gorman popped his head above the overturned tree trunk he was using for cover. He spotted the three figures huddled around what appeared to be an oddly peach-colored balloon with stringy tendrils underneath. It was bobbing up and down in the air, and throbbing as if expanding and contracting with gas. Suddenly he realized that whatever this was, it was alive. It was hideous. It also seemed to fill its other onlookers with a sort of curiosity.

"Assume hostile?" Gorman cautiously asked.

"What, that…creature?"

"No, the three geths."

Both men stopped for a moment. In the distance, the triad of burning, screaming and guns firing. The geth certainly didn't look like they were helping.

"…Absolutely."

"Hold here, and wait for my signal."

Kalu gave a thumbs-up. He rested his rifle on the log, pointing it in the right direction and dialing in its sight with his free hand and dominant eye.

Gorman broke away from the grass and headed for the closest prefab. He gave a quick look back to make sure the foes were still distracted before tapping a green button at the side of its likely doorway. The door slid aside, allowing the Commander to see what exactly living conditions were like near Eden Prime's spaceport. Not a great time for such an inspection – it was a mess inside. Pots and pans, papers and digital screens, cutlery and gardening equipment, all strewn haphazardly around the interior. A calendar for 2183 and featuring a blue-tinted picture of a woman was lying on a shattered coffee table. Bloodstains were on the floor and leading towards a broken window at the far wall. Whoever was in here was long-gone…and didn't leave willingly. Taken into the leaving ships, perhaps?

Unperturbed, Gorman advanced through the building and hurdled the open window. Halfway through he twisted around to latch his arms onto the roof of the prefab, pulling himself up on top with whatever strength he had. Lucky for him up here he wasn't totally exposed – there was a chest-high block resembling an old air conditioning unit that protruded from the roof and made for Gorman's new cover. He took in the sights before locking his eyes on to the awaiting Kalu. One affirmative wave in his direction later and the Commander was ready. He slid his handgun into both his hands, pulled back the slide, and closed an eye. His job of picking a target was helped along by his enemies' choice in headgear – it was just a matter of which flashlight to aim for. He took one more deep breath, and pulled the trigger.

Even from atop the prefab Gorman could frustratingly tell that a faint blue aura suddenly enveloped the geth trooper. He could feel the flashlights start to hone in on his location, then in a mechanical motion all three of their strange-looking rifles followed suit. They didn't get the chance to return fire before another gun fired a burst in their direction – Kalu's gun. Gorman kept firing. The barrier around the first target faltered and broke with a sound resembling glass shattering. One lucky bullet from the Walther pierced its lightbulb for an eye, and it shone no more as the soldier collapsed to the grass. The others were more alert, ducking and weaving behind the trees. The balloon creature floated away.

One began to fight back, aiming its rifle towards the ship's direction and slamming lightning-fast bullets down range with robotic precision. Gorman could hear Kalu swear and hold his head down, not to mention the reverberation of his own blue shield. The Commander couldn't hope to be so careless – he swerved back behind his cover and shoved a new clip into his handgun. To his delight the geth forces weren't waiting for him when he peeked around again, instead slowly advancing towards Kalu's overturned trunk. Gorman pounced on the opportunity, firing several rounds to the remaining two. Once again they swung as if on a motor and attempted to find where he was shooting them from.

The shield of the one closest to Kalu cracked apart, allowing him to rejoin the fight by firing while their backs were once more turned. The exposed geth fell headfirst into the dirt – one more remained. It opened fire in wild bursts in both directions, as if it couldn't make a decision about which human to attack. Kalu took advantage, mounting the log and unloading the full contents of his rifle into the enemy. Sparks furiously flew out as it almost dissolved from bullet-holes. Kalu's rifle let out a small warning alarm as smoke flew out of its sides. Gorman's adrenaline-soaked mind still managed to stop a second for consideration. What organic being bleeds electricity?